Loki had been brought into the palace in chains and a muzzle thanks to Thor. His anger on Midgard had boiled to a raging fury. He had expected to have the chains and muzzle removed after arriving via Bifrost, he had turned to Thor, in expectation of it. However, he had been rudely grabbed and drug out to waiting horses, not even his mount but a simple royal nag. His humiliation at being paraded through the streets had burned his cheeks like a fever, the people had been shocked. Thor had yanked him through the halls, not even allowing him the courtesy of bathing and changing out of his filthy clothes before forcing him to enter in before Odin. Other than a troop of guards there was no one else in the massive throne room. Loki refused to bow or show a shred of respect to this man who had dared to lead him to believe there had ever been blood bonds between them. It was Thor's hand on a shoulder and knee pressing into the back of a thigh that forced him to his knees.

Finally, Odin turned an eye to Thor. "Did he fight against returning with you?" Thor shook his head, "He returned willingly. With no struggle."Loki twisted his shoulder and head to dislodge Thor's hand from its resting place on the back of his neck. He tried to rise to his feet and Thor stepped on his pant leg to prevent him. Odin turned his attention back to Loki. He stared while several expressions quickly crossed his face. Finally, he spoke. "Loki, your punishment has already been decided. You will be removed to the dungeons until I see fit to decide otherwise." Odin motioned the guards forward.

Thor stepped forward, his confusion obvious on his face. "Father? How long will -"

Loki was no under no such confusion. He had already spent time in Odin's dungeons for various reasons over his youth. He knew that this time it would not be on the first level where maids would be slipped into his private cell in exchange for coin. He knew what the lower levels were like even if Thor didn't. They had been one of the first forbidden places he had gone when he had perfected his invisibility spells. Loki rose to his feet in one, long, graceful move. Despite his hands being chained and contained in the binding cuffs, his legs and feet were free. It was a mistake. Loki was swift and moved with cunning ease that the larger guards simply couldn't match. He used it to his favor for as long as he could. He had no false belief that he would win. He simply wanted to strikeout. To let his rage and violence-free. To pummel something. Someone. To vent his frustration at once more being voiceless. Powerless to be heard in a world where everyone else was listened to. At being weak in a world of Thor's. He heard Odin's voice, loud, commanding. The power echoing. "Loki! Control yourself!" But if he did not get to speak, then he would not listen either.

He held his own, by the time he was overpowered there were more guards on the floor than standing. Of course, it was Thor who finally brought him down with a massive arm wrapped around his throat from behind and choked him until he saw through a dark tunnel. He couldn't pull enough oxygen in through his nose, the muzzle did more than block his words. His mind flashed to other times he had struggled to breathe, the times he had been held under fluids until he had been forced to gasp, taking often burning liquids into his lungs. The times the Other had crushed his chest until he no longer had the strength to force it to rise and he slowly suffocated. His fingers desperately scratched at Thor's forearms, he didn't have the strength. Again. Too weak. Finally, he gave the signal from their youth when they had wrestled, a tap on the shoulder, and acceptance of defeat. The pressure wavered for just a moment then continued and Loki felt himself slip away into the darkness.

Thor had seen Loki's hand rise and weakly signal surrender. For just a breath he had thought of releasing his brother then thought of all the times he had fallen for Loki's tricks and decided that it was better to continue. Better to be safe than a fool. Once he felt all the fight go out of his brother's body he unclasped his arm and gently let Loki slide to the floor. He watched for and was relieved when he saw the first ragged breath Loki pulled in. There had been the slightest worry that he had gone too far but he should have known better, this was Loki. The remaining guards came over and roughly grabbed Loki under the arms and pulled him to his knees, prepared to drag him from the room. They were rough men, chosen for their ability to work daily in the confines of the darkness among those that the King chose to punish himself.

"Have care." Thor's voice was low yet commanding. "That's still a Prince of Asgard you have in your common hands."

There was a hesitation then the hands slowly lifted Loki and draped lank arms over their shoulders. They moved carefully across the floor and out the door. Once beyond the golden doors, they moved with purpose down the palace halls. Servants and nobles alike moved aside for them, the sight of an unconscious Prince, muzzled and being carried by known guards of the dungeon caused eyes to go wid. The Prince's actions on Midgard was well known, however so was the contempt that the AllFather held for the mortals. Midgard had been left to grow wild and uncivilized so no one had thought anything of Loki's actions. If he wished to carve out a place for himself then as a younger son it was best he chose some faraway realm rather than attempting to take over one of the other Nine. Perhaps this punishment was for not having asked the AllFather's permission first...

Entering the dungeons the Captain of the guard sauntered forward. He looked at the bloodied faces of his men then reached forward and grabbed a handful of Loki's back hair and wrenched his head back. There wasn't a mark on him though there was slight bruising around his throat from Thor's hold. Captain Reapt glared at his men who didn't meet his eyes. Loki's eyes fluttered, he had been becoming aware of being moved. Now he tried to focus on the blurry face in front of him. He recognized it slowly. Captain Reapt. They had sparred in the lists occasionally. Loki found the man slow and lumbering but a man of stamina. Loki could toy with the man for hours before becoming bored.

"Welcome to my training ground, your Highness." Reapt smiled cruelly, he already had his orders. The Prince would learn of them soon enough and then his lessons would begin. Letting Loki's head flop back down Reapt grabbed a cloth bag and gave an abrupt motion to move on. They continued down the hallways, twisting and turning. Through first one then another locked door. Down one set of steps, another doorway, another hall. The lights getting farther and farther apart, the cells getting smaller and less controlled by technology. More stairs, these turning, growing narrower, older, damper. Finally, they arrived in a short, empty hallway that was stone, lit by the flames of torches, the doors controlled by a key.

The door was opened. Reapt opened the bag and pulled out a thin collar, it was several strands of what appeared to be dark metal, twisted in intricate patterns. Placed along the inside were several cleverly hidden barbs. A binding spell had been cast into it as it had been forged. There was no escaping this magic suppressor, it had been crafted years ago for Loki when he had been sent to the dungeon for his first punishment. The AllFather had no intention of Loki using his magic to pass the time and make his punishment pleasant. The collar was roughly shoved around Loki's neck, it moved then the strands seamlessly came together. At first glance it looked like a serpent, one would think the head out of view at the back of Loki's neck. However, there was no head, just an endless body. The crude in comparison cuffs around his hands were removed as were all his chains. With a sharp motion of his hand, Reapt ordered, "Strip 'em." The guards grabbed his arms and legs, pulling his boots off while unbuckling and pulling at his leathers. Loki roused himself enough to fight them, getting kicks and punches for his troubles. There was one guard who in the fight swiftly slammed Loki's head into the stone wall, it stunned him enough that he was rapidly down to his thin under tunic and leather pants.

As Loki was carelessly tossed into the cell to land on the damp stone floor one of the guards asked, "Sir? Should he be unchained? You must expect him to fight when we come back to fetch him. Reapt again grinned, "Oh, I'm hoping for it, lad."Once the door slammed shut Loki rolled over, allowing himself a faint groan. He pushed his hair back, wiping at the blood that ran down into his left eye from the gash on his head from where he hit the wall. He hissed in pain, he hated head wounds, they disturbed his thoughts. He tugged on the muzzle, still firmly locked. It was then he felt the collar around his neck and growled. He knew it was there but feeling it always gave him a jolt of memories. He shoved them away, especially the first ones that were of a child's terror, and staggered to his feet. He was no child. Catching himself against the wall he looked around, letting his anger rise.

The cell was one he had never been in, in truth he had never been this far down in the dungeon. Probably not even on the last several levels. There was a burning torch directly across from his door but little light filtered in. Thankfully his eyes were able to see in the darkness, he grunted at the knowledge of why he had always been able to see better in the dark than anyone else. It had been another oddity that had set him apart in his youth, always attributed to his gift of magic. Now he knew better. Looking around he saw that the cell contained a stone bench, meant for both sitting and sleeping it appeared since there was no actual bed. With his height being closer to seven feet, he would hang nearly half-way off. A crude seat in a corner served as a toilet, there was no washing basin. There was nothing else in the cell. Loki spent hours searching, block by block. Every slight weakness was noted and filed away. It was nearly ten hours later when he heard the far door open and the sound of booted feet coming closer. Loki stood, he had spent the last hours of his time sitting on the stone bench, leaning against the damp wall. Letting his anger keep him warm. Now he faced the door, rising on his toes. He could fight just as well barefooted as in boots. The pain would feed his fight.

Once the door opened it was clear that the guards were prepared. They came in carrying practice shields from the lists. Loki raised an eyebrow, his disdain clear. It made no difference to him, the shields would only become weapons in his hands. In the small cell, he used the guard's numbers against them. They couldn't attack freely without endangering their fellow guards while Loki had no such concern. Everyone he touched was his enemy. He struck without regard for the damage, all sharp elbows and crushing knees. Long fingers that poked out eyes and arms that snapped necks. Shields that were meant to protect turned into wooden splinters that speared. By the time he leaped through the open door, the far door was being slammed shut and locked. Bodies were left behind and Loki dragged them out of his cell into the hallway. He piled them in front of the door because he knew they would be back.

Two days went by with no return of anyone. The torches had burned out. The bodies had begun to turn, the smell didn't bother Loki, he was used to much worse that was found on battlefields. Odin had made sure no son of his would be a disgrace and had both Thor and Loki hardened against all sorts of smells before ever setting foot on a field of death. Hardened against sights and sounds as well. Even the constant vigilance wasn't more than what Loki was able to cope with. What was wearing at him was all of it at once. The anger and rage had burned through him. He could go without sleep for long periods of time but he had already gone without for so very long. He couldn't even remember the last time he had actually slept rather than been rendered unconscious. Without access to his magic his wounds were not healing properly, he struggled to breathe from wounds suffered from Midgard. The lack of water, he could do without food, but the muzzle had a tongue depressor in it that was constantly slicing his mouth. It was never meant to be left on for long periods of time. The constant flow of blood in his mouth and down his throat was making him burn with thirst. His mind was the worst torment. He had too much time to think. To remember. To know that even as deeply buried as he was it was but a little thing for the Titan to find him. Loki had failed and failed in a spectacularly obvious way. He had not only failed to get the stone he had been sent to retrieve but had lost the one he had been entrusted with. It was only a matter of time now.

He heard the scratching of a key in the lock and pulled himself to his full height. But first, before the Titan, there was this business to attend to. He watched from the dark as the door was unlocked and an attempt was made to push it open. There were bodies piled in front of it so it took several hard shoves to clear the door enough to pass a torch through and allow a guard to crouch down enough to attempt to peer inside. Loki heard quiet voices then saw more shoulders work at shoving the door open. As it slowly inched open the bodies were pushed back with long wooden staffs until finally, the door was fully able to open. After a moment Reapt stepped in, he took a torch and threw it down the length of the short hall. The torch landed near Loki, his eyes had had time to adjust slightly to the light though he still squinted after several days in the dark. He knew what was coming. It had always been coming. Reapt spoke. "Well, your highness. Ready to go and face your king's punishment?" Loki grunted. He waved a dismissive hand in a come hither motion. Come and get me, whoreson.

Reapt motioned and guardsmen poured in the hallway. They kept coming past Reapt. A half dozen, a dozen, more and more. And they continued to fill the small space. Loki prepared himself. Arms held out he moved first. He flowed, graceful, filling the smallest of spaces that no other could fill. Grunts and groans, the sounds of wet crunches and bodies slumping slightly, held up by the crush of other bodies only to slip down as more guards were felled. But even Loki couldn't make too great of an inroad simply because there was no room. He couldn't swing because he was crushed under the weight of the bodies. His breath was pressed out of him. Again his vision narrowed except this time he couldn't tell, the hall was already so dark. All he knew was that he couldn't breathe and the torchlight faded. Finally, he became aware of heavy chains binding his arms and legs and being dragged to Reapt.

"Looks like I have fetched the Prince quite nicely." He gave a twisted sneer. "Let's get started, you've two days to make up."

By the time Loki was brought back to the cell it only took two guards. He was dragged down the newly cleaned hall though the blood had simply been washed down drains with buckets of filthy water. Once tossed onto the floor of his cell, the door was locked and he was left in the dark. It took a long time but Loki was able to crawl to the stone bench then pull himself onto it. He laid on his side, raising his knees to his chest as he carefully settled into counting his breaths. He had long ago learned that counting the same pace, over and over helped him slip away while letting him know if the pain was coming faster or slowing. The pain of the beating he took had dulled but occasionally it would flare. He would focus on counting through it, not changing his pace in the slightest. Breaths becoming so shallow that he would see a tiny burst of lights behind his eyelids. Like being in a little Bifrost. He didn't panic when he couldn't get enough air in his lungs, he let himself slip into welcome darkness. By the next day when they came to unlock his cell door, he was once more standing. Waiting for the rush of guards. Once more guards went down before Loki did. They still had his voice but he refused to let them take his violence. It was all he had left.

Eight months late

Reapt stood before Odin in the king's private office, eyes resting to the side of the AllFather as he waited for his king to finish reading the latest reports on the Prince. It read as all the previous reports except in the number of guards maimed. The number was down slightly but there were also fewer guards eager to face the duty. Odin looked up and Reapt's eyes snapped to him. Finally, the king spoke. "The prisoner has shown no sign of repentance?"

"Repentance, Sire?" The Captain scoffed. "Hardly. He's worse on this day than the first. I would describe him as having gone mad." At the king's raised eyebrow Reapt swallowed hard. "Or at the very least, feral, Sire. No matter how hard the whip is laid on he eventually recovers enough to fight. Sometimes it's in his cell when he's being taken out. Other times it's when he's being transferred. Or even while being disciplined. He's a crafty one."

"He is still muzzled?" Odin's voice is sharp.

"As you so ordered, Sire. It hasn't been touched." Odin sat thoughtfully, his one eye staring into sight only he could see. It made Reapt uncomfortable and he again looked away so he was rather startled when Odin abruptly stood. Taking Gungnir in hand the king moved forward. The Captain moved aside then moved to follow his king out of the room and through the palace walls. He quickly understood they were going to the dungeons and he felt his interest peak as his heart leaped. The King had never been in the dungeons during Reapt's tenure and he was proud of what he had accomplished over the years. Guards snapped to attention in disbelief, many never having been this close to their King before. As they began their descent to the lower levels Odin changed from robes to his more sturdy leathers, no need to soil his golden robes in the prison filth. The magic drew gasps of amazement from guards and prisoners alike as they watched the transformation.

When Reapt finally led the AllFather by torchlight to Loki's door there were several additional guards following. The door was unlocked and Reapt went to push it open however Odin stopped him with a handheld out. Using magic Odin pushed the door back into the dark cell. There was the quietest whisper of movement from inside the cell when Odin flung his hand out with a burst of light and lit up the interior. Startled, Reapt and the guards took a step back then peered over Odin's shoulder. What they saw left them with mouths hanging slightly open. An orb of light hung inside the cell above the door, lighting the scene. Loki was held in the center of the cell, several feet off the ground, arms out, back painfully arched. Over the months his undertunic had been shredded off him, leaving him only in leathers that were caked in blood and filth. They hung low off bony hips. His hair and body were covered in layers of blood and grime, the paleness of what little skin showing made it even more startling. Ribs and bones protruded but it was his eyes that held Odin's gaze. The light was blinding Loki after being in the dark, tears streamed from them as he fought to see. He struggled to understand what was happening, how he was being restrained. He felt something familiar. He had been once more prepared to attack as soon as the door opened. A reflex. He could move today, he would take advantage of it even if all he could do was use his long nails to scratch.

"Loki?" Odin's voice was quiet. He allowed Loki to gently settle on the floor, releasing him. Loki felt the floor under himself. He heard the voice but couldn't believe it. Odin? Odin had come to his cell? For him? Was he going to finally allow Loki to speak? To explain? Loki had no pride left, he would tell all. He would tell everything. He had to be heard. His own thoughts were driving him mad. He thought fighting back would force his captors to remove the muzzle. That they would want to hear his screams to gain satisfaction in revenge for the death and injury of their comrades. However, they had their orders. The muzzle was to remain on. Odin watched as Loki slowly crouched then raised a hand as though blocking the light. He moved forward on bent legs until with his other hand he felt Odin's boots. Slowly he raised his hand until they both were in the air as he looked upwards. Odin stared down at the man on his knees below him. He looked in the eyes, they begged for forgiveness. For one more chance to speak. The eyes of the Trickster. The God of Lies.

Slowly Odin leaned down while placing a firm hand on Loki's head. Loki's hand came up to rest on the hand as the head bowed. Odin whispered into Loki's ear then stood. It seemed to take a moment for whatever to have been said to register then Loki reacted. He tried to stand and pull Odin's hand from his head at the same time. He moved to twist and turn, to escape the hold that the AllFather hand him literally under with that one hand. Desperate pleading sounds came from his broken throat. Odin whispered under his breath. He stared down at Loki while the words came out and a deep white began to swirl from his hand around Loki's head. It grew in size and strength, turning faster and more violent. Finally, Reapt and the guards could no longer stand the brightness and had to look away then completely turn away and shield their eyes from the blinding light. Loki's voice had gone from deep muffled sounds of agonizing pain to what seemed to end in high pitched screams and wails of pure agony. It was on these notes that Odin brought Gungnir down to violently strike the stone floor and as the sound vibrated away the swirling light also faded. He turned and left behind a dark cell. He took several steps into the hall then turned his head slightly to speak over his shoulder. "I expect no more reports that you were unable to manage the prisoner's discipline."

Reapt watched as the AllFather walked down the hall and then out the far door. He snatched a torch from the hand of a trembling guard and turned to the cell. He thrust the torch inside and looked around, Loki was nowhere to be seen. He swung the light around, what had the AllFather done with him? He took a step in then sucked in a breath as his foot kicked something that seemed to let out a frightened squeak. Reapt snapped the torch downward and he couldn't stop the words, "Faith of the Norns be damned." Looking back up at him was a child. Filthy black hair, a body soiled in dirt and blood and covered in months of beatings and torture. Bright green eyes blinked owlishly at him, blinded from both too much darkness and too much light. The boy sat in leather pants too large for his painfully thin frame.

"Loki?" Reapt asked in a near reverent whisper. He passed the torch back to a guard then reached out a hand to carefully pull the now too large muzzle from the boy's mouth and face. It easily slipped over his head while red blood poured from the boy's mouth as he took shuddering gasps. Reapt reached out and poked the metal collar that still fit perfectly around the now slender throat. A bark of disbelieving laughter came from the Captain as Loki whimpered and leaned back. The boy had to be no more than 3 or 4 years old, he still had that baby softness of Reapt's own son who was not yet five. Reaching out he grabbed the boy despite the cry of fright and turning he tossed Loki to the nearest guard. "Here! I think even you can handle our most feared Prince now!" There was laughter that filled the hall, the guards taking turns hefting the now naked Prince to test his slight weight. Holding him by an ankle seemed to be the favored way as they swung him about while they moved to the rooms designed for discipline.

"After several months there came no more reports of violence from the Prince. And then there came no more reports at all.