So, this is my first tentative official foray into fan fiction. I hope some fellow Thor and Loki fans will enjoy it. I would appreciate comments and be glad to respond.

In this chapter, Loki learns what his punishment is to be.


Beneath

Chapter One – Prison

Loki swung his legs over the cot and sat up. His body ached literally from the top of his head to the soles of his feet from the thrashing he'd taken from that mindless green monster, who'd apparently managed to gain more control of himself than Loki had anticipated. Humiliating.

A small multi-legged creature scurried across the stone floor near his feet, and he lifted one soft-soled foot and slammed it down hard, immediately sucking in a breath at the pain. This abominable little creature had a series of razor sharp spines running along its back as a defense mechanism, and Loki was not wearing the thick-soled heavy boots he normally sported. And his feet already hurt anyway. He pulled off the ridiculous shoe and one by one plucked the spines from the ball of his foot, looking with disgust at the tiny drops of blood that were left behind. The spines were poisonous, but were meant to harm predator creatures tempted to have a meal, not full-grown Aesir. He would have little more than annoying muscle aches to contend with, muscle aches which he would likely not even notice given all of his other injuries.

Suddenly it occurred to him – it almost always still occurred to him "suddenly" – to ask why this creature's spines should have the same effect on him as on everyone else around him. They were of this realm, and he was not. He was full-grown, but he was not an Aesir. What would happen to a Frost Giant into whom one of these bugs released its spines? A nasty smile played at the corner of his lips. Its little razors would probably shatter under the force of the Frost Giant's own icy defenses before they could penetrate the blue skin.

Loki put his slipper-shoe back on, studying his foot carefully as he did so. There was blue in the flesh now, to be sure, but this was from severe bruising and burst capillaries caused by repeatedly being slammed into a concrete slab. Even an Aesir did not recover from such a thing overnight. But why wasn't he blue? Why did he look the way he did? He didn't look anything like that gullible wretch Laufey, but he didn't look anything like Odin either. If Odin had used magic to make him look like an Asgardian, why hadn't he used that same magic to make him look like he was Odinson, instead of No One's Son?

Loki's whole body burned with hatred for Odin, a hatred that burned so intensely it consumed all else and coherent thought ceased.

"Loki, it's Thor. May I enter?"

The voice sounded as though it came from within the room, and indeed it did, through Odin's elaborately concocted security system. A heavy cloak of magic surrounded the entirety of his small stone prison cell, on all four sides, floor and ceiling, holding equally strongly in centers and corners – Loki knew, because he'd tested it almost immediately upon being deposited here. Nothing could come or go without Odin's, Thor's, or the chief jailor's say; not even his mother had been granted the ability to pass through the cloak unaided for fear her heart would be too soft toward her wayward son. Odin's system also somehow prevented Loki from using any form of magic himself. He could have healed all his wounds had Odin not taken that particular measure…and he also would have devised a plan for escape by now. He had no magic. He had no weapon. He still had his cunning, and had spent hours devising ways to get the upper hand during those brief moments of an open door, when the chief jailer brought his meals, but as he'd gone through the permutations of cause and effect he'd realized the best possible outcome would be him killing the chief jailer and a new chief jailer delivering his meals. He'd thought about doing this anyway, simply to make a statement that he should not be underestimated or thought weak, but in the end decided it was too pointless to be worth the effort.

"Loki?"

"No," Loki answered. He wasn't in the mood for a chat, particularly not with Thor, but neither did he actually care much if he entered. Thor had tried to engage him in conversation frequently during the first week of his imprisonment, less so in this, the second, after he found Loki unwilling to respond to him or even acknowledge his presence. For the last two days he hadn't tried at all.

"Loki…" The voice was both chiding and pleading. Loki knew that Thor was full of conflicted emotions toward him – he missed the shadow that Loki had been, and would gladly kill the man he had become.

Looking up at the magically-sealed door, Loki wondered how long it would take before Thor ignored him and strode through anyway. He found the situation mildly interesting – and far more interesting than anything else since he'd been led to this cell and finally had his chains and gag removed. Thor wasn't used to being told "no." Certainly Loki hadn't, not until recently, not for most of his one thousand years of life. Thor had said, "Let's go," and Loki had followed him without asking where or why.

This was the first time Thor had asked permission to enter the cell instead of just announcing his intent to do so; on the first day he'd simply barged in and begun yelling. Since then there'd been yelling, pleading, forced remembrances of happier times, and at least once Loki was certain Thor had shed tears, but he refused to turn his head to confirm it, curious though he was to see tears where they so seldom appeared.

"Loki, please, Brother, we must discuss your situation."

Loki rolled his eyes. His situation. Such an innocuous, empty word. "Well, by all means, then, enter," he said, figuring otherwise he would have to listen to that disembodied voice begging with him all day. "Mildly interesting" wasn't sufficient to make him willing to endure that.

He listened as Thor commanded the heavy stone door to open and magical locks tumbled. The sound of his own voice had sounded vaguely odd; until today he hadn't heard it for nearly two weeks. Not since his mother's first visit, when he'd made the calculated decision to address her as "Mother," to let her know with the tiniest bit of speech possible who she was, who she remained, to him. She had sat beside him, sobbed, and held him to her, alternating between patting and rubbing his back. Loki allowed it but made no attempt to comfort her or return her embrace.

The memory shook him. He cleared his throat in the last instant before the door swung open and Thor stepped inside. He was dressed casually, in a simple light blue shirt and unadorned dark brown long leather jacket and pants. His beard was a little fuller, making him look even more like his father. Loki's eyes drifted closed. He strongly suspected that even had Thor been wearing the standard prisoners' long gray cotton tunic and matching pants that Loki wore, he would still have looked like a king.

You look like a king. Loki vividly remembered telling Thor that. He'd meant it, that and everything else he'd said then. At least he'd mostly meant it. He had looked forward to Thor's coronation. He just preferred to continue looking forward, rather than slam his face right into it on that particular day.

A simple desk and chair stood on the opposite side of the cell; Loki heard the chair scraping the floor as Thor pulled it out and took a seat.

"I have been having words with our father and his advisors."

Retorts popped into Loki's mind but he held his tongue.

"This cannot continue."

You can release me any time you like, he thought.

"Loki, will you say nothing? Not a word, for the rest of your life? I can't bear it now any more than I could when we were younger."

Thor, Loki thought, had indeed never had the patience for silence. Loki had once given him the silent treatment for an entire year, and Thor had nearly driven himself mad over it. Those memories almost – almost – made him smile, but in an instant they were pushed away by a terrible gripping pain in his gut. He hunched over and grunted.

"What is the matter, are you all right?" Thor asked, but remained seated, wary. "I know you want to, Thor, but you mustn't trust him," Odin had warned him.

Loki straightened himself up and forced the pain out of his expression.

"Tell me right now, Loki, or I'll-"

"Or you'll what?" Loki asked, finally meeting his brother's eyes.

Thor took a deep breath and consciously pushed himself back in his chair. "If you are ill, tell me, and I will send for a healer."

Loki pursed his lips. He'd already spoken, and he realized he had grown tired of maintaining his silence. He may have once given Thor the silent treatment for a full year, but during that year he hadn't been a prisoner locked in a cell; he could escape Thor's incessant entreaties any time he wanted and there were plenty of other people he could talk to instead. "I stepped on a firegrub."

Thor lifted his head, then frowned but nevertheless relaxed, relieved that there was neither a real emergency nor a feigned one. "That was foolish, brother," he said softly.

"Return my boots to me and the problem will not recur." This time it was Thor who remained silent, so Loki continued. "Regardless, the vermin will not be bothering me again, and this will pass." He shifted his position on the cot as a spasm shot up his back. He felt the poison more than he expected to, but the pain was still little more than an annoyance. "But you didn't bother me again to inquire about a firegrub."

Thor shook his head. "Our father is in a quandary. You have placed him in a difficult situation."

That word again. "Yes, I'm sure it must be incredibly difficult for him. My heart goes out to him. In fact, it bleeds for him."

"Why must you speak in jest about everyone? About everything? Are you no longer capable of compassion? He's your father, Loki. Don't try to say he's not. He's been your father almost since your first breath. How can you not see that he loves you?"

"Does he? Even now?" Loki asked immediately. But the words were a challenge, another taunt, not some desperate childish plea.

"Yes, even now. But…he's very angry. And disappointed."

"Well, then, don't delay," Loki said, jerking up from the bed, startling Thor. "Tell me, what is my punishment? I'm guessing it will have to be something quite imaginative. It'll have to top chaining me up to let that giant serpent drip its venom down over my face, I've been much naughtier than in that other incident."

Thor's jaw tightened at the indirect mention of their younger brother who had gone unmentioned for so long. It angered him, that Loki would so casually reference Baldur's death, and in equal measure shocked him that Loki would bring it up at all. The exact truth of those events was not known and probably never would be. But Loki's actions on Midgard had been much worse, at least in scale.

"Did you learn anything from that?"

Loki considered that question. "Why yes," he answered after a moment, "yes, I did. But perhaps not what the All-Father intended for me to learn." He set himself back down on the cot.

He didn't elaborate, and Thor was unwilling to pursue it. There was only one reason for this visit, and he needed to get to the point. "He is having difficulty determining your punishment. His advisors are themselves not of one mind. They're afraid of you, Loki."

"They've always been afraid of me," Loki cut in.

"Will you listen to me, brother? This is serious." Thor stood and pulled his chair closer to the cot. When he sat again, his knees nearly touched Loki's. Loki pushed himself back further until his back touched the cool solid stone of the wall and he could feel the magic humming silent vibrations over it. "They're very afraid of you. Some of them are insisting that Father put you in a version of the Odinsleep, a fully suspended existence, and keep you there for eternity."

Loki pulled his legs up onto the cot and crossed them in front of him. He massaged the aching right calf as he pondered this possibility. Deciding the thought did not appeal to him in the slightest and in fact unsettled him greatly, he sat up straight again and clasped his hands in his lap, ready to participate more seriously in this conversation. "Why do they not just execute me then? What is the difference?"

Thor glanced away for a moment. "A few of them prefer that option. But one involves killing, and one does not. You know well the injunction against Aesir killing Aesir."

"Now that you mention it, yes, I do. But execution is allowed in certain circumstances." He paused, then added, "And I am not Aesir."

"Yes, you are." Thor paused. He narrowed his eyes at his brother. "Do you wish to be executed?"

"Of course not. But I believe I prefer dead while technically dead to dead while technically alive. Of course, if you're asking, my top preference would be to hear, 'Now, Loki, you've been a bad boy, no more attempts to rule any of the Nine Realms anymore, promise not to do it again and off you go.' And I would duly promise and be on my way," Loki said, putting his fist over his heart in mock salute.

Thor shook his head. "No one trusts you. You can't sit in this cell forever. It would violate the rules for treatment of prisoners, and it's feared you would devise some sly means of escape regardless. And if you gained your freedom, there's no reason to believe you wouldn't continue down exactly the same dark path and put Asgard and all the other realms in danger. The majority opinion right now is that we should send you to Jotunheim as a peace offering, to be their prisoner."

Loki felt the skin around his face tightening, and this had nothing to do with the tiny bit of poison in his body. The first genuine emotion he'd expressed since being dragged back to Asgard was plainly evident on his face. Loki knew that Thor saw it, but he wasn't sure he could have hidden it if he'd tried. Fear.

"Thor…if you still think of me as a brother as you say you do, and if I could ask you for only one thing for the rest of my life…however long or short it may be…please don't let them send me to Jotunheim." The words were costly, robbing him of dignity already in short supply. But he kept his head high and locked unblinking eyes on Thor's, instinctively trying to exert his will even with the powers he was now cut off from.

Thor regarded Loki carefully, hunting out any hint of joking, or mischief, or manipulation. Finding none, he leaned forward and put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "I swear to you, Loki Odinson, I will never allow you to be sent as a prisoner to Jotunheim."

Loki let out a deep breath, suddenly exhausted. Though Thor knew no special magic, in those seconds it had felt as though his brother had looked straight into his brain and sifted his brawny hands through its contents. Perhaps it was just the firegrub getting its revenge on him.

"What, then?" he finally asked. "You've only said what his advisors want. What does he want? In the end his voice is all that matters. And what will you do if he says I am to be sent to Jotunheim?"

"Whatever I must, Brother. I have sworn," Thor answered, astounded and hurt yet again at the extent to which their relationship had been severed and love replaced with hatred cooling only occasionally to indifference. It seemed there was no limit to his brother's ability to hurt him, and no callus that could sufficiently toughen him against it. "I would lift Mjolnir. I would go in your place if there was no other way."

Loki's expression slowly changed, eventually turning into one of his scathing smiles. "You're a fool," he said softly. "You always have been."

Ignoring that comment, for it was hardly the first time Loki had made it, Thor turned back to the topic at hand. "Father doesn't want to punish you. He wants to teach you."

"No," Odin said, standing in front of the cell door that had silently opened, unnoticed, and was now silently closing, standing there as if he'd been there the whole time. "Thor wants to teach you. I want to punish you. I want to roar at you loudly enough that you snap out of this infantile rebellion that has cost so many lives and- But Thor doesn't think this will change you. And I'm beginning to believe he is correct."

"Perhaps you can simply work some magic over me, turn me into another Thor. Would that change me into what you wish me to be? You are apparently adept at such magic. You were largely successful in turning me into this," Loki said, swiping a hand down his face and body. "Just a few hiccups here and there, really."

"I haven't turned you into anything, Loki. Physically, yes, I made you Asgardian, and you responded well to this magic, it was clear even then that you had special talents in that regard. But what is on the inside…you and you alone are responsible for that."

Loki looked away. He disagreed and disagreed vehemently but saw no point in saying so. His rage was balled up into something small and manageable now and letting it expand and explode was always exhilarating in the moment and tiring once the moment passed. And he was already very, very tired.

Thor stood to offer Odin his chair, but Odin waved him back.

"I understand you were injured by a firegrub."

Surprised, Loki turned back to Odin, then frowned. He shouldn't have been surprised that Odin was keeping an eye on him. "It was nothing."

"Still, give me your foot," Odin said, handing Gungnir to Thor, crossing the cell to stand before Loki with two great strides, then settling to his knees while Loki stared in confusion. He reached for Loki's ankle and pulled the bruised and swelling foot gently toward him, removing the shoe.

"What are you doing?" Loki asked darkly.

"I brought a healing stone. I know it's a minor wound, but you're weakened from your battles on Midgard."

Loki jerked away, wresting his foot from Odin's loose grasp. "Don't touch me." He pushed himself off the cot and quickly crossed to the corner of the room farthest from Odin, near the entrance to the small bathroom. "You haven't come to see me for two weeks, and now you want to break a stone over my foot, for a few tiny cuts? What sort of game are you playing, old man?"

"I'm not playing games, Loki," he said, using the cot to help push himself back to a standing position.

Passing Gungnir back to him, Thor noticed the deep sadness in him, and the weariness in the way he let the staff bear some of his weight. His father would soon need to go back into the Odinsleep. For years now he had needed that deep, regenerating sleep more often than any other time in Thor's life, and the conflict with Loki had sapped even more of his energy reserves, more than he could restore through sustenance and regular nightly sleep, what little of that he was able to get. His mother had confided in him that Odin spent much of the night pacing.

"I didn't want to see you. Not here. Not like this. I surrendered to weakness. But no more. Your actions must be dealt with."

"Well, then, let's hear it! The suspense is killing me," he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Your brother learned a great deal during his short time on Midgard, when I banished him."

Loki's eyebrows dropped and the sarcasm faded slowly from his face. He watched Odin closely. There was no sign of humor in his face, nor had there been in his voice. "You would send me to Midgard?" Loki asked in as neutral a tone as possible. Adept as he was at concealing his true feelings, this little announcement was so astounding he wasn't sure he was entirely succeeding. He hoped at least the sudden giddiness that expanded his chest was not betraying him. From Midgard he could do anything. His face was known there, true, but he was nothing if not a master of disguise. He wouldn't have access to an army to take control of all of Earth or a tesseract-powered scepter to supplant men's wills with his own, but he still had his magic, his superior strength, his intellect…he could find a way to a more inviting location, or stay and take over a business empire and live in at least minimal comfort, grand comfort by Midgardian standards. But why only a business, perhaps a town, perhaps a small country, perhaps with time even-

"Do you think I am that foolish?" Odin asked, interrupting his thoughts. "Oh, no, Loki, you gave nothing away. You never do. But your eyes…those eyes…they speak a language that I now understand well. You are scheming. Your defeat, your imprisonment, your humiliation…it hasn't changed you. Perhaps Midgard can. But Midgard has suffered enough from your attempts to change it. I will not risk its further suffering at your hands."

Odin abruptly drew himself up to his full height, all traces of fatigue gone from him in an instant. Despite his extreme age he cut an imposing figure, and Thor found himself straightening up as well. The All-Father had come to a decision. A bright, clear image burst into his mind. A memory. Him standing in shock in the observatory at the end of the bifrost as his father denounced him for the actions he'd been convinced were correct; the sharp words had bitten into him deeply once they'd penetrated his bravado and anger. While his brother stood there, to his left, watching. Thinking. What had Loki been thinking then? He found himself glancing back and forth between Loki and Odin.

"Loki Odinson-"

"Loki Laufeyson," Loki sneered, his contempt almost palpable.

"Loki Odinson," Odin repeated with crisp enunciation, "you are to be sent to Midgard for a period to be determined by your actions and intentions, and not by the passage of time. You will be sent there with two enchantments, both signified by a mark, lest you forget them." He grabbed Loki's left hand and pushed up the sleeve a bit to clearly expose the wrist. "I place upon you the mark of your heritage." He pressed his right palm over the inside of the wrist and Loki gasped in pain, reflexively trying – and failing – to wrench his arm away.

From the wisps of smoke that rose from the spot, Thor could tell that something had been seared into Loki's flesh.

"This will remind you of who you are, and that power must not be used solely for destruction. If you do harm to any mortal, that same harm will be meted out to you, in equal measure."

"And if I harm one of their dogs? Or horses? Or cats or birds or-" His howl of pain as Odin again pressed his palm over the reddened, tender flesh brought his words to an abrupt end. He clamped his jaw shut, having learned a lesson. Odin hadn't thought of everything; perhaps he'd determined the parameters of this punishment in haste and left open gaps which could be exploited. There was no sense in pointing out those gaps so that Odin could fill them.

"The same holds for their domesticated creatures. Do not kill, or your life will be forfeit."

"And the second curse?" he asked through clenched teeth.

"An injunction against injuring and killing is hardly a curse. It is no more than a measure of protection for those around you."

"Your second…'measure,' then?"

"You already bear the mark," Odin said quietly.

"What are you talking about?"

"You took it on yourself. You deliberately crushed something smaller than yourself, with no regard for anything, not even for yourself."

Loki shook his head in annoyed confusion. "What…" But as soon as the word was out, he felt a tingling in his bare right foot. He glanced down at it, swollen if anything worse than before. He looked back up at Odin with incredulity.

"The firegrub? I crushed a firegrub, yes! So what! Are you telling me now that I may not even slap at an insect that tries to sting me? Perhaps you should put me in your Odinsleep after all. Your rules are impossible to keep!"

"Be silent, boy. You may slap at stinging insects all you like. But I have listened to the reports from Midgard. You compared the people there to ants underneath your boot. Have you learned nothing from me, from all your schooling, your training? Did you ignore your history lessons, the ones I myself shared with you? How Asgard has been a friend to Midgard, and defended her when she could not do so herself? How could you have so very little regard for life?"

"You didn't care about defending Midgard, you cared about defeating the Frost Giants. That's all you ever cared about in those days," Loki spat back.

"I can't stop you from twisting everything I say, so think what you will," Odin said sorrowfully, reigning in his anger. He took a steadying breath before continuing. "This second mark is a wound which will not heal. You will be reminded of it with every step you take. It will teach you the appropriate use of magic. Each time you use magic to create mischief, it will grow worse. But the poison that courses through your veins is not simply causing you to ache, it is bonding with every particle of your being. It will cause you pain, but it will also separate some of those particles from their bondage to your will. Magic will gradually be lost to you, and if you do not learn from your mistakes, all magic will be lost to you."

Loki turned to Thor, to his right. "He should have told me all this when he first arrived. I think I may have let him use the healing stone," he said, the barest of wry smiles pulling at the corner of his lips. Thor stared back at him, looking vaguely sad, with no hint of a smile at all, not that Loki genuinely expected otherwise. Still, he felt a mild pang, a sudden irrational longing for the chance to laugh with Thor again. Laughing was always a pleasure, but there was no laughter like laughter with Thor. When Thor released a hearty laugh and threw an arm around your shoulders, you felt there was no peak you could not climb, no foe you could not vanquish. Of course, that was also irrational.

He turned back to Odin. "How am I to defend myself? Or do you expect them to accept me with open arms?"

"That is not my concern. You have heard the enchantments. But the Midgardians believe you to be on Asgard. No one is expecting you to appear in that realm. You are not hunted."

"So I will drop out of the sky, hope that no one recognizes me or is at all curious about who I am and where I've come from, and any magic I work to extricate myself from the situation will make me unable to work magic in the future. And will give me a footache. Do I understand you properly, All-Father?"

"You have heard the enchantments."

"Father…he's right," Thor said, with some hesitation. He understood now how lucky he'd been, to first encounter Jane, and Erik and Darcy. His arrival could have met with far different reactions than theirs, and now Midgardians would surely fear anything that crossed into their realm. "Midgard is different now."

Odin's head swiveled toward him; Thor recognized the look, but swallowed and continued anyway. "At least a driver's license. My friends gave me one. It's what allowed me to avoid interrogation in that facility in the desert. It had an image of my face on it, and another man's name and residence. It is a useful document."

"These are trivialities," Odin said, turning back to Loki. "You may create such documents if you need them, so long as they are not designed to cause chaos. You may not, for example, create documents with the name 'Thor Odinson.' Now, no more stalling. You leave in an hour, a little less. Get ready. The chief jailer will bring you to the temporary observatory."

With his first step toward the door it opened, and he strode out without a backwards glance. The jailer entered with a slight bow of his head, placed a pile of clothing and a black leather bag on the cot and a pair of leather boots on the floor, then left, still with a slight bow. The door closed behind him and the locks tumbled closed.

"Well, at least my wardrobe is to improve, hm, Brother?" He gave a short laugh. He'd slipped and referred to Thor as "brother" out of habit, and not out of sarcasm and disdain.

"It will be an improvement over this, yes," he said, gesturing toward Loki's clothes and approaching the cot alongside his brother. "But none of this will be appropriate for Midgard. You'll need jeans, and a…one of those shirts they call…"

"No, thank you. I tried those once, 'jeans.' Dreadful. I prefer Asgardian attire. Although I did find a few items on Midgard that were acceptable," he continued in mindless prattle while he reviewed his father's words and what they would actually mean for him.

"Just remember, Brother, you must try to fit in. Do not try to put yourself above them. Midgardians do not appreciate that."

"Reality is often difficult to accept."

Thor sighed. "I pray you learn quickly, Loki. I know you will not learn easily." He almost threw an arm around his brother's shoulders, but in the end thought better of it and called for the guard to open the door for him.


Next up, more Thor and Loki...and a change in setting.