A very gilded cage
As the sun rose, she searched the chambers for any secret escape route that might have been forgotten about when they gave her this room. The balcony was out of the question—it was a sheer drop down a cliff-side and even if she knotted the drapes and sheets together to use as a rope, they wouldn't be long enough. Besides which, a raven was perched on the handrail, seemingly ignoring her while it groomed itself, but she knew better. Loki had told her plenty of tales about Odin's avian spies.
The chambers themselves formed an L-shape, with the main door leading into a living room of sorts, opening onto the balcony through whatever the Asgardians called French doors. The bedroom was around the corner, and the bathroom beyond that. Sumptuous as it all was, the smooth walls gave no hint of doorways to secret passageways. The floors were tiled in marble with the occasional ornate rug added for warmth, but there were no hidden trapdoors under any of them. There was one door in, one way out, and she was pinned down here until someone came to get her. No well-aimed kick or jiggle of bra underwire was getting her through that door.
Nevertheless, she dressed—in her own clothes, rather than the pretty but impractical gowns on offer—and kept searching.
On her third circuit there was knock at the door, and the distinct sound of a key unlocking it. She froze, letting the section of rug she held fall back to the floor.
"Her majesty the Queen," came a muffled announcement in a male voice.
Fantastic. The one person she had no right to be angry with. The one person she really ought to be civil with.
"You can come in," she replied, uncertain if that was formal enough. Nobody had gone through the proper protocols with her.
The door swung in, revealing Frigga in what probably passed for casual morning attire in the palace: a simple ivory gown with full, loose sleeves, and her hair pulled back and caught in a twist that let it flow down her back. Behind Frigga a servant trotted obediently with a tray of food. Even she was better groomed than Alex, who wondered if she was lowering the standards of the entire realm.
In the corridor, three guards stood to attention, their positions against the walls making it clear they weren't accompanying the queen. They'd probably been out there all night.
"Good morning," Alex offered, unsure how she was supposed to address the queen. The servant left the tray on a little table by the door and departed, shutting the door behind her.
"Your countenance suggests you do not believe your own words." Frigga crossed to stand before Alex, gently placing a thumb below her eye, where she'd seen dark circles in the mirror when she woke. Up close, Alex could see the unhappy set to her mouth and the circles beneath her own eyes. The queen hadn't slept well, either.
"Bad dreams," Alex said by way of explanation.
"Not about whatever it was Loki did to you yesterday, I hope." She met Alex's eyes with a questioning stare. Alex realised she'd made a lot of noise in the throne room about Loki hurting her, and Frigga was obviously seeking an explanation.
"I dreamt about losing my original test, actually."
Frigga nodded. "The king told me what happened when you first came to Asgard. Come, you should eat. You and I have much to talk about."
To Alex's astonishment, she carried the tray over to a patch of sunlight just shy of the balcony, where a cafe-style table basked in the early morning warmth. She gestured for Alex to sit, so she did, helping herself to a selection from the tray. Food on Asgard, even in the palace, seemed to tend towards simple but good quality. Here, she had the option of fresh baked rolls, some kind of flaky pastry, fruits, and the sweetest jam made from berries she'd never seen on Earth, with a drink like a spicier version of tea that came in hot or cold forms.
She slathered the jam onto one of the rolls and waited for Frigga, who took no notice of the food, to say whatever was on her mind. Alex had a feeling she knew where this was going anyway.
"You should know," Frigga began, "that while Loki remains on Asgard, he is forbidden to come near you. I have made it clear that if he breaks that condition, I'll take you back to Midgard myself."
"When does he leave?" Alex asked quietly.
"He is working with the king to create a replicate of the Tesseract. Odin predicts it will be a few days work, and neither seem inclined to rest until it's complete. The king has also agreed that Loki may earn his way out of imprisonment entirely when he returns by helping the realm prepare for the war. Odin has made it very clear that you are only forced to remain immortal and on Asgard until Loki returns—then you shall be free to make your own decisions."
"But not now."
"No. Word has been sent to Idun, forbidding her from assisting you in any way. That term has been made especially clear to Thor, who has protested vociferously on your behalf."
What there was of Alex's appetite evaporated, and she dropped the rest of the bread to her plate. "And I'll be under guard if I leave these rooms?"
"For now, while Loki is still in the realm. That's for your benefit as much as his. When he leaves, you will be granted more freedom."
Alex stared out across the section of the realm she could—bright, gleaming buildings set on jagged pinnacles of rock, an ocean just visible beyond. It was beautiful, breathtaking even, but the view would lose its edge if it was all she could see.
"Despite your interactions with him, my husband is not a harsh man. He understands, as much as he can, why you are upset with his decision to keep you here. Above all, he is king, responsible for the lives of all his subjects. Often he has to put the safety of many above the wellbeing of a few. This is one of those times. Everything he does, there is a reason for, even if we can't always see it."
"I get it. I'm not happy about it, but I understand it. I blame Loki more than anything—he's the one who put the suggestion forward."
"There is one thing I wished to ask you," Frigga continued, and Alex steeled herself. "Yesterday you said that Loki had—had grabbed you by the throat. Is it true?" Alex glanced at the queen and away again, unable to meet her hopeful gaze. "No."
"He did it to stop me swallowing some of Idun's apple. And he healed me afterwards." She found herself trying to explain, trying to lessen what he'd done. Not for his sake, but for Frigga's.
"Don't. Don't make excuses for him." Frigga slid her hand across the table to grasp Alex's. "He was raised to know better. I'm his mother, but I'm not a fool. No facet of his behaviour should be kept secret from me. Has he ever laid a hand on you before?"
"No. I swear."
"Then I shall add it to the list of conditions on the bargain. If he ever hurts you again, whatever his purpose, any deal will be immediately revoked and the terms of his imprisonment reinstated."
"Thank you. I don't think you need to worry about it, but thank you."
Frigga rose to leave, planting a gentle kiss on Alex's forehead as she brushed by. "I'm needed elsewhere. The realm carries on, even as the king locks himself away. If you need anything, inform one of the guards in the passageway and they will relay a message directly to me. I will visit you when I have time."
In a sweep of fine linen, the queen was gone, leaving Alex with the best view in Asgard, locked in the finest prison cell in the nine realms.
She spent two days with that view taunting her. They ebbed slowly, as time often does without a distraction. She avoided sleep as it just led to more dances with Fear, or took her back to that claustrophobic room in Stark Tower, with Loki choking the apple out of her. Sometimes he didn't stop even after she'd spat the apple out.
She bathed in the Olympic swimming pool sized tub, forced into wearing the gowns in the closet since her own clothes definitely needed laundering. Frigga didn't return and the only person she ever saw was the servant girl who brought her meals. She was thankful Loki had taught her to read his native tongue as a child, since the only books here were written in it—she'd been left the Asgardian equivalent of fairy stories, which were packed with the deeds of brave warriors against the tricky, evil frost giants, or shadowy dark elves.
It didn't help that she was waiting for Loki to slip his captors and sneak into her rooms. No matter the potential cost, if someone had forbidden him to do something, they might as well have egged him on. She wasn't sure, if he did turn up, whether she'd cower or whether she'd try to throw him off the balcony.
When the lock clicked open on the third day and she wasn't due a meal, she stepped off the balcony, expecting Frigga to have made good on her promise to come visit. Instead, when the door opened, Thor stepped through.
"It is done," he said. "He's gone."