Illusory peace lasted but a month.
Ever since Loki's fall, words spread as the balance of power shifted. Chaos like poisonous sap seeped throughout the branches of Yggdrasil and to the reaches beyond. With the Bifrost incomplete still and the reservoir of dark energy drained, the nine realms suffered on while Asgard could only watch and wait. The foregone duration to mend the bridge now measured in deaths and destruction.
Leaderless and their world torn asunder, the giants of Jotunheim withdraws further into themselves, spurning all communication even as buried strife renewed with their neighbors. For the troll kings long have coveted the Dwarven forges of Nidavellir and knows none will come to King Eitri's aide while the Badoon tribes mirrored their greed and bloodlust with their own civil war. The same can be said as the marauders amass near Vanaheim while at the outer rim, treaty breaks amongst the Kree and Nova Empire.
And yet, there are worst things.
Though Heimdall's sight can see far and wide, it was his ears that heard whispered rumors of the Dokkalfar remerging from the deepest shadows. If this be true, then eternal Darkness will surely follow.
Asgard was done waiting.
The procession of warriors led by the Crown Prince began from the barracks and marched down the wide thoroughfare of the busy streets. From all around, the citizens of Asgard lined their paths, their cheers deafening though the parade remain a somber one. Not one smile was returned by the warriors, their eyes remain resolute towards the Bifrost. For this day, they would protect and honor their oaths. For this day, all would fight and not all would live. For this day, Vahalla awaits.
All this was relayed to the second Prince, though he claims the title no more. This news fell on deaf ears as Loki sat in the corner of his cell block as in days past, observing all and seeing nothing.
Frigga has visited many times before, though in secret conjuring his image upon her cauldron of fire before boldness eventually sets in. Her projection flickers under the harsh light of the cell block. Even as she initially appeared before him, Loki gave no acknowledgement of her presence. His expression had drawn a blank and his gaze far off. Lost, mayhap be the word Frigga would have chosen if not for the irony of it. For how can one be lost if they are finally home?
Nevertheless, that is how she found him, day in and day out. Unkempt and inactive. Never changing, never moving unless necessity dictates his movements. At least, that was something. He fared well compare to the sunken-eyed sallow creature Thor brought back.
She had expected fire and venom to be spewed from his lips once they were release from his spellbinding manacles. None came. Even Odin was surprised by the lack of hostility, though her husband may not have shown it. Granting, if it were so, Loki's sentencing would have been far worse. Frigga knew Odin would have responded in kind. Harsh words once spoken in the heat of the moment would not be unheard and all love they once had for each other would be lost. The All-father would have no choice but to exact the severest of punishments for Loki's transgression. Death would have been the final forfeit. That course she would strive to alter for all the wealth in Asgard to prevent.
Yet, the Queen rather not have an automaton for a son. Nor for him to be behind bars for that matter.
"Before the dawn of winter,
Gather your mortal elements,
And the quest for chaos shall begin."
Oh, how those words haunted her. Frigga had argued countless hours with Odin in its interpretation. Regardless, the King in him would not and could not relent the double edge sword of the Norns' verses. His final argument: Loki's involvement could hurl the universe faster into Ragnorak. And his resolve hardened to a solution such as this: imprisonment for all eternity.
If that be so, the All-father has underestimated the power of a mother's love.
With one last lingering phantom caress of her hand on her son's cheek, Frigga's sitting projection from him flickered out. It was several moments more, before Loki's own refocused gaze lingered at where she sat and hissed in sudden disgust at the red orbs reflected back from the shiny surface.
Were he not deserving to suffer such self-loathing, the monster he saw would no longer plague this world or the next.