Silent, like a fleeting and black shadow, he could be. His movements could be things of subtlety, quiet and clandestine when needs be. Generally a muttered word in a tongue long lost to the nine realms would suffice, or the snap of his fingers. He would kill in such a manner – silent, never seen, like an assassin. In all, he had ever been much too quiet for the hard-headed tastes of the Aesir.

But he could make the flagstones ring beneath his boots if he wanted. He could pull the banners from the walls, shatter the windows, crack the throne. He had caused a great deal of noise on Midgard, much more than his stint as king of Asgard. Oh, he could make sound if he wanted.

Not so much anymore. Even gods must need a rest now and again. And he hadn't seen the inside of his eyelids in what felt like a millennia. The scepter had been a boon, a crutch, a supplement to keep him going long after the rest of him had worn out. With that gone, he felt like a broken civ, contents spilled out on the floor and useless to anyone. The sound of his boot heels ringing off the walls seemed muffled through the fog of fatigue weighing on his eyelids.

Regardless, he was still a god. He strode tall and purposefully, shoulders back, and head held high. He looked beyond the guards flanking him and was unconscious to the light jingle of his chains. He knew not shame. This Asgardian court, the one belonging to his once-father, really held little sway over him. He had never been of their kind; he did not fear the All-Father's wrath.

Or at least that was what he told himself. The claws of adolescent fear tried to worm their way into the back of his mind, right next to the image of the one who had given him the scepter in the first place.

Ah.

Now that was something he would…anticipate, not with any excitement, of course. The Other had promised vengeance if he failed and would be able to seek any hole or crevasse in which he may hide.

But that little gee-whiz factor had depended on them possessing the Tesseract, which was now some meters away, in the All-Father's vault. Its power had created goosepimples over the skin of his arms. He had never given away any of his important secrets, his ways to and from the realms of the universe, but he did wonder if Thanos and his Chitauri minions had anything else up their sleeves.

Well. Time would tell. Being the inherent trickster he was, Loki did not doubt their ability. Undisciplined, yes, but there were those who showed promise beyond the typical blood-thirsty, chaos-driven alien. It made him almost thankful that Odin ordered him locked away into one of the more secure parts of the dungeon. The spell-shielded ones, the ones that imprisoned both outside and in. At least they had taken off that damnable muzzle.

Lost in his thoughts, Loki nearly missed the hallway opening up into the throne room. Oh yes. His mind descended from on high back into his body. He winced slightly at the rough hands of his guards as they shoved him towards his place, the circular standing point of justice before the throne of Odin. Had he been weaker, they might have forced him to his knees.

The Liesmith, the God of Chaos, kneels to no one.

The All-Father himself stood before his lofty throne, staff in hand, winged helmet adorning his head, and his one blue eye stared down at the relatively battered and scarred once-son standing before him on the dial. Loki's green ones met that pointed stare, but only just.

Near the stairs and to the side stood the real Odinson, who looked oddly out of place and uncomfortable. Other than that, the great room was decidedly void of others.

"What, no audience?" Loki resisted the urge to flinch when Odin brought the bottom of his staff to bear against the marble floor, forcibly dismissing his glib comment. Odin's voice snapped through the silent air.

"This being who stands before me is not the man who fell from the Asbru bridge when the Bifrost was destroyed. This one is…"

Odin paused, his one eye sweeping over the roughened albeit tapered individual on trial. Loki felt his skin try to crawl; he wondered if it would be appropriate to remove his Asgardian features. It would certainly reinforce his identity. Odin continued.

"This one is something different entirely. Something darker, though I am reminded that he is a prince and citizen of Asgard, under our protection and judgment."

Loki's teeth bared themselves in something of a feral grin, leering past the words of pleasantry. No, that was disappointment in Odin's voice. Weariness at the unwelcome behavior of his once-son. "Am I a prince or am I merely a thing?" His voice, while low, hummed through the room, chilling the air. "I find the latter to be terribly more appropriate, given my nature."

Odin's brow remained dreadfully unperturbed. Loki continued.

"I am curious, though. Are you saying this just for my benefit or for the benefit of hearing your own justifications for what may happen here?"

The All-Father waited a patient beat. Damn him. Odin was being frustratingly reserved. Apparently Loki's jibes were much less effective than the stupid insults that might pour from Thor's mouth. Loki smirked, emitting a humorous snort. "Do forgive me. My tongue seems to have lost its leash in my time away."

"Loki, you stand before me a criminal of the nine realms and those beyond. You openly attacked the peaceful realm of Midgard with aims to enslave them."

Oh, was that what he was doing?

"You have murdered in the name of Asgard against my wishes and intent and in the name of your own selfish desires and vengeance."

Something like that. Maybe he hadn't been entirely successful against the "Avengers," as Anthony Stark had dubbed them, but he did succeed in causing enough chaos and confusion amongst them to keep things troubled for some time. The swath of destruction in New York would be a hard stain to remove, too.

"Have you anything to say?"

Loki, mouth drawn up in a slim, wry smile that crinkled the skin around his eyes, glanced ostentatiously to his left and right. "What can I say?" he asked innocently, shrugging. "Guilty as charged, I'm afraid."

There really wasn't much point in trying to beg for freedom or feign innocence or asking for mercy. Freedom would only expose him to the Chitauri. He could easily claim to have been under some Chitauri spell, fabricate that he was merely a puppet in the hands of a stronger being; that was ridiculous, though. And mercy? He had seen with his own eyes the All-Father's particular brand of mercy, and it was something he did not want. He would rather spend some time in a cell on Asgard recuperating and taking a few years to unravel the spells around it than otherwise. They were admittedly made of rather potent magic.

Yet again, Odin proved to be unflappable. "Very well. That makes this process much speedier."

Loki's head reeled. The possibilities were endless; he certainly wasn't guaranteed imprisonment. Banishment was a potential punishment, but he knew that Odin knew that it wouldn't serve for long. He would eventually find a way out. The stripping of his powers? That wouldn't be unprecedented, but he wasn't sure how effective that sort of thing was against a Frost Giant. Perhaps a combination? Who knew. Odin could be terribly cruel, as was the nature of divine beings.

Was Odin divine? He was certainly powerful, yes, but he had weakness. Just like the rest of them. Something to ponder on later, perhaps.

Loki's idiotic, sentimental brother stepped in suddenly, interrupting the play of ideas running through his head.

Thor had seen better days. Clearly the whole business troubled him to no end – his armor, Mjolnir, cape, everything was more or less as splendid and princely as it usually was. It was the lines in his face, the grey of his eyes and the dark circles beneath them that gave it away. Loki really looked no better; the Hulk's tender …ministrations had been quite painful, even for him. But at least he managed to keep something of a fire in his gaze. Or ice, rather. Yes, that was more appropriate.

"Father, before you pass judgment, I would ask that you not forget that the accused is my brother and your son."

Now that was surprising. Or maybe not. Thor standing up again for his little brother. Loki's eyes narrowed, and he was caught somewhere between loathing and bewilderment. Sentiment. Compassion. Odin was barely capable of such things. Loki was far beyond them.

"You're a fool, Odinson."

Thor glanced over his shoulder at Loki, but turned back again to face Odin. "Regardless," he began, "I would see him treated as a son of Asgard."

"The All-Father is in the process of administering his justice, Thor. Kindly step aside so that he may continue," Loki spat. "I highly doubt your pleadings will change anything."

"You are my brother, Loki-!"

"Enough of this."

Odin's voice washed over them like a wave. Loki's gaze traveled lazily back up the golden figure at the throne. The one eye was narrowed, though Loki could not tell if it was in anger or something else. Maybe it was the fatigue or maybe he was going mad, but something inside him wanted to laugh. It bubbled in his chest and he had to fight against it rolling out. Why was he fighting it?

He wasn't entirely sure. By the roots of the tree, he needed some sleep. Let Odin make his punishment; he didn't even care anymore. He supposed that the sweeping, golden spires of Asgard should have been a sight for sore eyes. But it wasn't home anymore. It never would be, he imagined. Why Thor was so intent on making it so was beyond him. Looking up once more, he realized Odin had descended from his throne to push Thor aside and stand directly before Loki.

They could see eye to eye, the All-Father and the Trickster. Most likely where Thor got his impressive stature from. Some dark demon took hold of Loki's tongue. "You look tired, All-Father," he crooned, eyes crinkling in a smile that didn't quite translate through his mouth.

Odin surprised him by placing a large hand on his shoulder. "Loki, you are indeed far afield. I will never forget your place as my son before all else."

For the first time since …well, in rather a long time actually, Loki's over-active mind paused to take this in. There was a caveat coming, he could see it from eons away, but this talk was dredging up old, unbidden memories from where the fear in the back of his mind huddled like a forgotten child. In the debilitating wake of his body wanting to shut down, his mental defense must have begun to retreat.

"However, I cannot allow such crimes to go unpunished."

"Now there's the father I so dearly remember…I was beginning to think you'd grown soft." Loki's eyes flicked towards Thor, who frowned.

"Father…" Thor's voice hovered over Odin's shoulder.

"Death be not fitting, nor imprisonment."

"Banishment, then?"

"It did set your brother – " Loki gritted his teeth. "-to rights. I think that time amongst your would-be subjects, taken down to their level with their weaknesses and their wants and needs…that may be most fitting."

Loki laughed, a barking, strained laugh that sounded almost as painful as it was. "You realize that you send me off to my own death should you strand me on Earth, yes? The entire realm knows my face. Not only would Thor's precious SHIELD see me to an end, my former allies must also be out for my head after such a spectacular failure."

Finally, finally, Odin's brow tightened and his mouth formed a hard and resolute line. "The consequences do not escape me. What befalls you with this sentencing belongs to you and your actions."

Behind him, Thor's startled gaze lay not on Odin but on Loki. "Father, this won't help!"

"What, brother? Afraid that a little taste of my own medicine might 'send me over the edge?' Bah!" Thor seemed chastened enough by the sudden wrinkling of the skin between his eyebrows. Loki, letting his eyes linger on the thunder god, held out his chained wrists to his once-father. "By all means, do the honors, sire."

The chains fell off with a wave of Odin's hand. Loki's armor shattered beneath the All-Father's fingers. What little spark of magic that had been working at the slipped disk in his spine was snuffed out, leaving him breathless and dizzy. Something in the destruction sent a wave of adrenaline through his mind. The giddiness returned and this time he did not stop it.

Through the light-headedness and euphoria and the blue glow of the Tesseract now gleaming and sparking in Odin's hand, Loki laughed. He saw Thor look away. No doubt the prodigal son was having unpleasant flashbacks of his own banishment. Before the portal opened, Loki's eyes met Odin's one for the last time. There was something there, in that icy blue orb, but Loki could barely keep himself up much less try and read his once-father's expression.

The echoes of his laugh stayed in the throne room long after he had been thrust into the whirling oblivion of the between-worlds.

...

AN: H'ok, I've been reading fantastic Avengers fanfiction recently, which inspired me to get out the 'ol muse and write. The little plots I've been perusing have more or less been covered, though. Regardless, here's some creative outlet. Loki's a bit scattered and crazy and maybe OOC, Thor's kind of a push-over, and I'm terrible at dialogue between them and Odin, but hope you enjoyed. I suppose it's intended to be continued but constructive criticism is most welcome.