A/N: Thank you to the 13 readers who have made it this far! I love each and every one of you! Most of this chapter is in the past BUT it's from our boys POV so there's a bit of a treat! Please comment/review and share, those things give me life.
Warnings: Forced pill feeding, mild cussing, slight graphic descriptions of minor surgery
Song Suggestion: Deep Blue Sea-Miso
With the moon leaving the sky, so too do the drugs in her system, their grip on her mind starts to fade and she becomes more aware of her surroundings. She rubs the grit from her eyes and decides with a solemn finality that yesterday was her last dose of medication. She has no clue what day or month it is, and it scares her, but she cements herself to her new path. Footsteps seem to appear out thin air stopping in front of her door, still heavy and sluggish from the last dose she tries to mentally prepare for the momentous task ahead. An unfamiliar face approaches her bed with a small paper cup, easily acting the part she sits up in bed ready to receive her pills. Thick fingers grab her wrist, placing the cup delicately in her palm he stares at her expectantly. Taking a fraction too long he grabs both her jaw and the cup, upending the latter then clamping the former shut. Keep calm, you gotta be convincing. Hannah mimics swallowing but he seems to be aware of her ploy and plugs her nose, with no other choice she allows them to slide down her throat with a weak glare at the orderly. Satisfied with his job well done he leaves securing the door behind him.
As soon as the heavy clunk of the lock sliding into place is heard she comes partially to life, body sluggishly moving away from her bed, attempts are made to rid herself of the medicine. Hannah is aware that if she doesn't...bad things will happen, she isn't clear on what, the drugs have been in her system too long for clear memories to form. Gagging around her fingers procures no results, only massive volumes of drool and snot; tears prick at the corner of her eyes and she prays. To who or what she does not know. Please, please, help... and suddenly, she feels a foreign weight in her mind
Loki had been defeated, utterly and the humiliation still burned in his veins, it was at the forefront of his mind as he was led bound and gagged by his "brother". As if the defeat wasn't punishment enough, he was to return to Asgard and stand trial in front of the man who claimed to love him as his own. Like a fool, he had gotten too eager in his quest to prove Odin wrong that he made mistakes that ended up proving grievous.
"Loki!' Thor's voice loud and booming as ever pulled his attention outward. Hiding his disgust for the gathered Miguardians he calmly turned his gaze slightly upward; unable to speak or use magic, he attempted to make his feelings felt through his burning emerald eyes. A boyish smile stretched the face in front of him and he couldn't help rolling his eyes in agitation. Nothing, save intergalactic war, seemed to phase Thor, as children Loki used this to his advantage daily, now...it seemed to irk him more than anything. Although if he thought about it, the irritation was most likely caused by the gag in his mouth, the disgusting tasting metal made it impossible to speak, breath even. Once again Thor's voice interrupts his thoughts.
"Brother! Can you not focus? Do not tell me the Hulk injured you far more grievously than we thought?" Behind Thor, Banner could be seen taking a sudden interest in the conversation. Loki shook his head, not wanting to give anyone the satisfaction of knowing his exact condition. "Too bad..." Stark snickered from the right and Loki's hands clenched in an effort to not lash out As if I could in these shackles he thought being led further towards the one called Fury. There, the greatest insult of all, the Tesseract waited to take them home. His steps felt heavy as he approached the device that started it all, so close yet so far...if only... If only what? I could grab it and teleport? Even it were possible to break the death-hold the oaf has on my arm, these enchanted shackles can only be removed by Odin, damned blood-magic. for a third time, his thoughts are interrupted by Thor.
"Are you ready, Brother?", as if to answer him Loki grunted and Thor grasped the Tesseract sending them hurtling towards Asgard. It was a rough trip, nothing like the smooth travel provided by the Rainbow Bridge. Loki fought nausea as their feet touched unceremoniously down in Himedalls observatory, its reconstruction nearly complete and the Golden-eyed God turned from his post to greet the Prince. "Hello Prince Thor..." his deep voice was quiet but seemed to reverberate through the room. Thor smiled and waited for him to greet Loki, who in turn knew the snub was intentional and he rolled his eyes. A small frown appeared but quickly disappeared with a glance at his crown prince. "...Hello Loki." Thor's grin faltered but quickly recovered when their transport arrived.
"The bridge has not yet repaired itself from your last encounter, Brother" he explained almost nonchalantly, but Loki noticed the smile doesn't reach his eyes. Please as if it was me who broke the bridge! He must have taken one hit to the head too many. Loki stepped on to the golden ship and braced himself as they piloted their way toward the Grand Hall where Odin awaits with his Old World judgment. When they arrived at the castle murmurs could be heard from outside yet the guards kept the crowd far from view. "I apologize for the roundabout route, Brother...we thought it best until Odin has a chance to speak," Thor explained shame written on his face. Loki scoffs, he cared little about what the common folk who arrived to gawk at the fallen prince thought. They were the easily swayed, the mob mentality sort, the lowest of Asgardians.
They entered the Grand Hall and Thor removed the gag from his mouth, working his jaw he grinned wolfishly at the Warriors Three coming to escort them to the throne. Their glares almost hurt, in his youth he had genuinely tried to make friends with them, only to realize they, like the rest of Asgard, only cared for physical prowess. Nonetheless, their betrayal after he had taken the throne had cut him deeply. He didn't expect their love but he expected their loyalty to the throne, but it seemed that it was specifically because of him that they would finally break years of blindly following a king and think for themselves. A disappointing reality, no matter it is in the past, Loki's smile faded as everyone in the room stood to attention as Odin and Frigga enter the room. At the sight of his mother, his heart clenched; it nearly broke when her eyes met his. They were full of pain and worry for, he could only assume, him. As much as he was loath to admit any wrongdoing, that single look from the one person, he felt understood him, nearly ended him.
His self-loathing was immediately halted at when Odin began to speak. "Loki Odinson, yo-"
"Laufeyson" he interjected with a snarl, ignoring his mothers hurt intake of breath. He was simply fed up with Odin's narcissistic insistence on claiming him as his son after everything he had put him through.
"Odinson," Odin continued forcefully, "you stand before your king for crimes against not only your home of Asgard but also the realm of Midgard." Loki's eyes rolled at the use of the word "crime", he had read the ancient texts, he knew Odin and his forefathers had done the same, if not worse in their days of conquest. Why should he, a Prince, feel bad for continuing the tradition of not only conquering a lesser people but also attempting to better them by becoming their King?
Thor's elbow in his side brought him back from his tangent, to see Odin's singular eye glaring at him. "Loki, I feel you have no idea about the consequences of your actions. Had it been anyone else, it would end in death. However, both your mother and brother have begged for mercy on your behalf."
"Mercy I didn't ask for father. How can you sit there like a hypocrite and lecture me about war and conquest?!" Loki started, ignoring the pleading look of his mother and the sudden pressure of Thor's hand on his elbow. "You yourself have murdered thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, in the name of Asgardian glory. Is it only wrong when I do it? I do not recall such punishment for Thor when he went to Jotunheim and provoked war! He was not labeled a war criminal, nor placed in chains! He was not gagged and made to stand trial for destroying their temples and homes! Were the people allowed to gather and gawk at him for nearly starting a war on our own soil?" his rage was rising only to be matched by the fury in Odin's face. "No, he was not, was he father. He was merely sent away on a leisure trip to Midgard until he could lift his damned hammer once more!"
A sudden pressure filled the room as the All-father's magic flared, some of the guards flinched at the show of power from the old God.
"ENOUGH!" Odin's voice boomed through the spacious hall, seeming to shake the very foundations, "You are a Prince of Asgard, as much as you refuse to acknowledge it! You will act as such! That being said your actions not only reflected badly upon you but all of us as a whole! I will hear no more from you until you are able to fully recognize your mistakes! My sentence is this 200 years in the royal cells, and your lips will be bound henceforth until such a time as I decide!"
Frigga's eyes widen with shock and Thor attempted to interject but a swift gesture from his father silenced the usually loud God. Loki seemed to pale even more than usual at the venom in Odin's voice along with the proclamation of his punishment. Without further words Odin strode from the room, Frigga taking one last glance at her sons before following her husband.
"B-brother..." Thor started but armed guards approached.
"Pardon, Prince Thor, your father ordered Loki's binding to happen immediately." they came between them, grabbing Loki's arms roughly before leading him out of the room.
"I can walk just fine," Loki growled, wrenching from their grasps and straightening his clothes. I will have dignity if nothing else. As he was lead past the Warriors Three, he saw the satisfaction in Sifs eyes, the glee in Fandrals eyes, genuine sadness in Volstagg's eyes and the stoic nothingness in Hogun's eyes. Thor approached them and suddenly they were all sad smiles to see their chosen Prince.
Through countless halls Loki walked, passing many servants, some bold enough to look into his eyes, a well-timed glare seemed to remind them of their place. as they neared the infirmary Loki's steps slowed and almost faltered but his accompanying guards made sure he had no room to slow, let alone stop. "In here, Prince Loki." the guard to the left motioned with a mocking bow. A tiny snarl escaped his lips as his feet entered the stone doorway of the infirmary.
It was familiar to him, in his youth he spent many days learning all he could from the skilled healers such as his mother and her students, yet on this day it held a sinister quality. Gone were the many young students of medicine going about their daily tasks of making tonics, hanging herbs and enthusiastic note-taking at lecture; instead the large windows funneled the sunlight onto a single bed, restraints gleaming with ill-promises.
Now it had finally sunk in, the sight of the restraints rousing dark memories to surface and old wounds to twinge. A cold sweat broke out on his brow as the guards had to forcefully put him into the bed, Loki unknowingly started to resist. Tremors started in his hands and feet as the guards grin and step back to attention, from a doorway further in the infirmary an elderly Asir approaches Loki, the head healer Frode, a man Loki had grudgingly decided to respect. However, at this moment there was no respect in Loki's eyes just fear and loathing for what was about to occur.
Frode was calm, as always and approached the prone Prince with a large needle and enchanted thread. With a heavy sigh he threads the needle and turned to Loki, "I have been instructed to keep you awake and lucid." he delivered it with logical detachment but Loki could see he didn't agree with it himself. For whatever reason, it snapped Loki out of his fear.
A smirk appeared and he snarled "Do your best work Healer, this face is far too perfect to ruin with shoddy work." it was the last bit of sass he delivered before Frode began. At first, he screamed, tears formed but never fell and he strained against the leather at his wrists. If not for the enchanted quality of the thread he would have choked on his own blood, it was a small mercy given by Frode.
Then it was over, his wrists were released and the guards had to physically hold him as they escorted him to the Royal Cells. Up several flights of stairs he was dragged, half-conscious, to a gilded cage at the top of a tower. They set the exhausted Prince upon his four-poster bed and left, shutting the heavy rune encrusted door behind them, its magical lock momentarily glowed.
Several hours later he woke and immediately frowned, which was a regretful decision to say the least as pain shot from the tender holes enchanted thread was weaved through. Blasted Odin, this is just another example of his favoritism. Feather light touches to his mouth confirmed the completeness of Frode's work. After a long exhale, he decided to explore his surroundings. Rounded walls half covered in towering floor to ceiling bookcases, a large bed farthest from the door, and beside that a small bathroom with a deep tub and minuscule sink. There were two barred windows high above his reach that followed the path of the sun allowing for natural light, several lamps for nocturnal reading were placed throughout the room, along with basic furnishings for meals and leisure. A loud growl stopped his exploration, with a deep groan he wondered how he was to eat anything in his current state.
As if on cue a guard pounded on the door and announced the arrival of his evening meal. A plain servant girl entered, a quick fearful glance around the room ended with a startled squeal at the sight of the glowering Prince. She hurried across plush, woven carpets and cobbled floors to the beautifully carved table the Prince stood by. On the tray she hastily placed down was a large chalice containing what could only be a blended meal, next to it a smaller cup and an ewer of water, two straws were to be his mode of feeding. Fearfully she bowed and bolted for the door seemingly shaking with terrified sobs. The door once again slammed shut and he was alone again. The rumors must have already started to fly. He shook his head in disgust as he contemplated his meal, steeling himself he reaches for the blended monstrosity but before he could bring it fully to his lips his vision blurred.