Chapter 3 – The return to Asgard

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In the three months Loki was gone the Asgardians, along with Heimdall, were able to repair the Bifrost to its former glory. It became a great help on Thor's quest to find his troubled brother. When they landed in Asgard, Loki was unable to support himself as the Bifrost spat them out into the Bifrost room, and without Thors' support it left him tumbling forward to his knees and eventually his chest as his arms were too weak and unable to reach out and hold him. Thor and the warrior three let him lay there for a moment while Lady Sif summoned the guards. He tried not to make a sound as he was ripped to his feet by two strong guards. A grunt of pain left his lips as shackles were slapped on his sensitive, cut and bruised wrists while another pair were connected to his ankles. A chain was connected between them, not giving him much room to move at all. Thor was about to protest when Sif gave him a look of disproval.

Loki was dragged unceremoniously to the throne room, unable to keep up with the guard's relentless pace and unable to move his ankles too far apart he replied on the guards to lead him to their destination. When they reached the throne room he was thrown harshly down before the Allfather, again landing awkwardly on his front but still, he refused to make a noise of pain in front of anyone.

"Kneel." Odin's strong voice commanded and Loki did his best to rise to his knees, gritting his teeth at the pain. The guards stood either side of him still keeping a tight grip on the chains while Odin addressed him angrily. Loki was too weak to even keep his head up so he could only manage to look at the bottom of the throne where his adoptive father sat. Frigga looked concerned and her stomach turned as she went over to help him up.

"Enough. I will speak to the prisoner alone." Frigga looked up to her husband and King pleadingly before looking back at Loki. Reluctantly, she left them as Loki mustered enough strength to get on to his knees before Odin.

"Why is it wherever you go there is always war, ruin, destruction and death?" Loki could not reply, only stare up at his false father. Odin grew tired of Loki's lack of reply. "Well answer me, Boy!" He shouted banging Gungnir on the floor making a 'bang' echo through the room. Loki took in a deep breath before mustering his reply. "It' m-my birth r-right." Was all he could muster as he began to breath harder between gritted teeth.

"No," Odin said quickly. "Your birth right was death. To die a weak and pathetic infant. And now it is to live out the rest of your days in the dungeons. Take him." Odin's sentencing was short and sweet as he could not bear to look at Loki anymore. The man he thought he raised was gone, completely replaced with someone else.

Loki was hauled to his feet as guards gripped him under his arms to pull him away from the throne. He gave one last look to Odin before the throne was our of sight as they reached the corridor. Loki was relentlessly dragged to the dungeons.

He tripped as the guards guided him down the stairs and he now totally relied on the guards to keep him upright as all the energy he had was drained from his body. He groaned as he saw the cell he would be spending the rest of his life. He was thrown into the pre-prepared cell that was designed to keep him 'comfortable' while he rotted alone. He had only just managed to catch himself, as he hit the floor with a thud. Before he had the chance to move, the cuffs were removed and the guards just left him in a heap on the floor not even bothering to throw him onto the bed where he would be more than happy to rot in his state, so – alone and afraid – he just lay there on the floor, trying to regain his strength.

Loki didn't remember passing out but when he came to couldn't even think about moving as he ached all over. He was exhausted from using all his strength, which was a limited amount, to put on a facade in front of Odin. Even Frigga, the woman she thought of as his mother, couldn't help him as it would defy Odin's orders.

A single tear streaked his cheek as he let himself drift back into unconsciousness on the cold concrete floor.

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When Loki regained consciousness he could hear voiced out side of his well-lit cell. Without opening hi eyes, he honed in on the voices, identifying them as Thor, Safi and Fandral.

"He's got to be faking it." Fandral thought out loud turning to his good friend with his fingers tapping his chin. "Mustn't he?" Sif looked at Fandral with a look that simply said 'what are you doing?'. She had already told him not to bring this up to Thor.

"But the guards touched him. We touched him." Thor defended his brother." If it was magic, it would have faded by now." Thor looked over to Sif who tried to avoid eye contact. Don't bother brother, Loki thought sadly. They wont believe you.

"Besides," Thor continued trying to figure his brother out himself. "He wouldn't be able to hold an illusion like this for that long."

"Yes, but what if the Chitauri gave him better magic and illusion spells. He could be waiting until we are vulnerable." Lady Sif retorted back defensively before she could even think about what she was saying. "We need to be prepared for his games."

I'm not playing any! Loki pleaded painfully in his head.

"He's just like a child. Soon he will grow board if we just ignore him." Came Fandral voice as he retreated away from the cells. Sif followed quickly behind him but stopped when Thor didn't.

"Give it a few days and he will be back to his old trickster self." Sif reassured Thor as she carried on walking with Fandral. Thor gave one last unsure glance at his brother before walking off towards the exit.

Little did Thor know Loki was broken, crying and unable to move in his cell begging him to stay in his mind.

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Five days Loki had been in his cell trying desperately to rebuild his strengths. On the second night the cold was biting at his extremities and, even as a frost giant, it was enough to make him shiver uncontrollably. He mustered enough strength to haul himself up onto the soft bed. He relished in the soft mattress and began to wrap himself in the sheets for warmth. He still couldn't lay in a comfortable position because of the gashes on his back and his multiple suspected broken ribs so he lay half on his side curled into a protective ball to help stop his weak shivering. His breath was still shallow and laboured but it was improving day by day.

The guards would bring his food and drink but he couldn't bring himself to eat much of it. He still couldn't move much so he had to use what little magic he had to bring it over to him.

On day six he feared he had taken a turn for the worst. He was hot but also cold and his shivering had gotten worse which brought on a cold sweat that was drenching his body and the sheets he lay on. It hurt so bad. He was guessing one of his wounds had got infected and had gone septic but who was he to say, he could barely think straight. He just wished either Thor would realise his predicament or death would come and take him. He knew death would probably come first.

His magic still worked but his thoughts were too jumbled to make sense of what he was using his magic for. He wasn't even feeding himself anymore. All he could do was just lay there, shivering in and out of restless sleep filled with dreams of his torture.

It was when he heard the door to the dungeon open and quiet footsteps that his body finally took over and Loki blacked out.

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