Beneath

Chapter Two Hundred Twelve – Throne

"I'm to judge them," Loki said, quietly, returning to Jane and Finnulfur at length. From the behavior of Thor's friends clustered further away – the distinct lack of outraged shouting – they had no idea what was about to happen.

Jane turned to look at the others again; this time no one noticed her attention. "You?" she asked in surprise. She'd thought Thor might take some kind of action – he'd obviously been contemplating how to handle it – but she hadn't thought he would delegate that to Loki.

Loki nodded.

"Like Geirmund?"

"No. Not exactly. Finnulfur…Thor tells me that you advised him that because the order they defied was mine, this matter rests in my hands, with full authority as though I was again King of Asgard."

"That is correct, my prince."

"I'm very glad I convinced Thor to keep you."

"I beg your pardon, my prince, but my words to His Majesty were based in Asgardian law, not in prejudice either toward or against you."

"Was that supposed to change my mind?"

Finnulfur hesitated a moment. "I suppose not," he said with a dip of his head.

"Jane?"

"Hm?" Jane said, startled, head whipping around from where it had turned as her gaze strayed again.

"Finnulfur, allow me to speak with the Lady Jane for a minute." When they had gained relative privacy, Loki continued. "You're troubled," he said. Again. He didn't say it, wouldn't say it, not here at least, but the plain flash of guilt on her face told him that she'd heard it regardless.

"I…yes. I'm sorry about before, about sending Geirmund to Earth. I didn't mean to come off so…I don't know. Strident. And I…I should have mentioned it to you in private, or you and Thor. Odin just rubs me the wrong way sometimes and I just—"

"There's nothing to forgive, but if there was, I would have instantly forgiven you right now," Loki said with a grin muted by the circumstances. "It's a legitimate concern, one Asgard should not take as lightly as it has. And the fact that you stand up for yourself, and for what you believe, no matter where you are or who you're with…it's part of what I respect about you."

"I…um…thanks." Loki was a mile taller than her with that helmet on, and she was suddenly conscious of it in a way she hadn't before. Dressed like that, tall, regal, composed, the throne not far behind him, he did seem like a king, a king who'd just told her he respected her. Not just her work, but her. He'd said so before, but she wasn't sure she believed him that time, when he could have just as well been trying to manipulate her. Now she believed him.

"Your current concern, then?" Loki asked, ignoring how flustered she'd unexpectedly become.

"Um, yeah, the current…yeah." She tried to picture him in his Carhartts and bunny boots. Just Loki. "I don't know if it's exactly a concern, it's…this is different. I spoke to Geirmund once. I never knew him. And okay, I don't really know them either, but…oh my God, this is so awkward." She rubbed her bare arms and resisted the urge to dig her fingernails in as she went.

"You wish to come to their defense."

"No," she said firmly, then couldn't help backtracking. "Not for ignoring your orders when you were king, not for the way they treated you. It's just…"

"It's how you met. They defended Puente Antiguo. They defended you. From me." It hadn't occurred to him before, but other than brief encounters last night, Jane knew the Warriors Three and Sif only as the heroes to his villain.

"Yeah."

"The good acts do not negate the bad acts."

"I know."

"I would never have sent the Destroyer to Puente Antiguo in the first place if they hadn't defied my orders and gone there."

Jane nodded, taking that in. It was true, but it didn't sit right. "That thing practically destroyed an entire town. You weren't exactly going for precision strikes against them."

"Destroy everything," he'd instructed, without a hint of concern for whatever else might be in the Destroyer's path. Even worse, perhaps…he'd craved the wreckage that would come with the chaos. Destruction had boiled in his veins. "You know I understand your realm differently now than I did then. And I was angry, to put it mildly. Some of my choices, in retrospect…were not the wisest. But," he said, pausing for emphasis, "I was Asgard's king, and sending the Destroyer to stop four Asgardians who so brazenly defied the orders I had given them directly just moments earlier was well within my rights."

She nodded again. He was right. She knew he was right, and at the same time he was wrong, at least in the way he'd gone about it – it was clear that that thing had targeted more than just Thor's friends – and although no one had said it, she also understood that the way the monarchy worked here, Loki could dole out whatever kind of punishment he felt like if he had the full authority of an Asgardian king, anything from a small fine to the ax that Geirmund had escaped, probably right up to bringing that serpent back if he wanted.

And then something clicked, as sudden as a light being turned on. He wouldn't. He wasn't the same person he'd been then. What they'd done had infuriated him, she knew that, she'd seen the raw anger and sense of betrayal in him when he'd spoken about it in veiled terms at the Pole. How could it not have infuriated him? But he was calm, and not in some scary calm-before-I-rip-your-throat-out way. He was just…calm. "Okay," she said, not to anything he'd said specifically.

"Okay?"

"Yeah. It doesn't matter what I think anyway, not about this, but I understand."

"My decisions are my own…but it's not entirely true that it doesn't matter what you think, Jane. You appear to be less…uncomfortable than you were before."

"I guess I just realized…I wasn't worried when I thought it was Thor who was going to charge them with a crime, or whatever you call it here, so I—"

"Thor told you about this?" Loki as soon as the implication sank in.

"Yes. Not about all this, but he told me he was thinking about it. Trying to figure out what to do. Yesterday morning when we went hiking."

"Jane…," Loki began, then hesitated. The thought of Jane and Thor talking about him was deeply unsettling, but he knew he needed to take care not to react too strongly. "Anything I've told you, it was in confidence, between the two of us."

"I know," Jane said, nodding well before he finished speaking. She hadn't wanted to interrupt him on this, but holding back had taken effort. "I didn't tell him anything you wouldn't have wanted me to. I didn't tell him anything, really. He just needed to talk, and I think I was the only one he could talk to about it. He did the talking and I listened."

Loki considered that, and decided he could live with it. Not that he had a choice. He couldn't control what Jane and Thor talked about. And he trusted Jane, that she would continue to keep his confidence. And Thor…who else could he have talked to about this situation, who knew the full truth? The list was short. At least Thor hadn't talked to Odin. Or Heimdall, Loki thought with a scowl. He noticed Heimdall wasn't present in the little cluster of Thor's friends, in view over Jane's shoulder, clearly intentional. Then he noticed that their smiles had faded and they were looking his way.

"He's told them," Loki said, still keeping his voice quiet. "You'll be all right?"

Jane nodded, fighting the instinct to turn around and look. A little of the awkwardness was returning, but yes, she would be all right. And it was kind of Loki to care about how all this affected her, when she was so far away on the periphery of it. "I don't like thinking about you doing those things. The Destroyer. It was a different you."

"Perhaps," Loki said, without much thought into whether he agreed or not. He knew he wouldn't do it again, not like that. If he had it to do over again, he'd be more specific in his instructions to the Destroyer. "But it's not going to be about me. It's going to be about them."

/


/

While Thor stood at the foot of the throne and explained, Loki strode slowly up the first set of seven steps to the throne, steps upon which those with permission could stand. Back still to the rest of the throne room, he paused, listening to the protests – loud and full of outrage at first, quickly cut off with a firm word from Thor, then quieter, though angry and no less outraged. He looked up at the throne he'd occupied for mere days, physically occupied for mere hours. Hours marked by wildly vacillating panic and fear and rage and planning, so much planning. And then they had shown up. Permitted in, because they always had been before. No one bothered to ask who Loki would permit in without invitation. He let out a slow calming breath. It had only been a day or two, of course, a day or two surrounded by chaos. Questions of protocol had barely begun to be addressed.

"We would ask you to end Thor's banishment." Though still quite recent, those words seemed long ago. Sif never had let a little word like "no" stop her. If any of them had egged the others on in going after Thor despite his refusal, it had been her. If any of them had resisted the idea…surely none of them, but if any had, perhaps Volstagg. Older, a father, a little more likely to take the time to think things through. If any of them was going to do that, of course, it was going to be Hogun, but he'd always felt as though Hogun was watching him, and though Hogun had never said so, Loki knew that Hogun's level of distrust of him rivalled Sif's.

"He's already called it treason! You were there, Thor, you heard him!" Loki heard behind him. Volstagg. Then silence. Thor probably had forgotten about that. Loki had, though he remembered now. Before they'd been summoned to discuss the plan for capturing Gullveig. Loki had wanted all the cards on the table, so to speak.

"He sent the Destroyer to kill us on Midgard." Quieter. Calmer. Hogun. Loki angled his head as he considered it. True. Hogun was perhaps exaggerating a touch. Loki hadn't precisely commanded it to destroy Thor and his friends, though they were indeed part of "everything."

"Loki was not himself, then, my friends." Thor, obviously. Voice ever so strained. Loki almost felt bad for him. Almost. He pondered that, though, more so than when Jane had said something similar. Had he not been himself? He'd felt very much himself. The truest, most honest version of himself he'd ever been. What had changed was his recognition that Midgardian lives had value. A thought for another day, because someone else was speaking: Sif.

"Thor, do you have any idea what you've agreed to? You're giving him the power of life and death over us. We did what we did for you. What did he say to you to convince you to do this?" Loki smiled. Whatever misgivings they all had about him, it was always Sif who cared the least about whether Loki knew it.

"He said that you violated his direct order as Asgard's king, and that his order was merely to keep Odin's order in place." Thor's voice rumbled lower now, tightly controlled. Angry. And with surprise Loki recognized that yes, that was exactly what he'd said. Not only had Thor remembered it, he'd remembered it well, with precision. "And he didn't ask me to do this. He didn't ask me to do anything about it at all. Had anyone else done what you did, had he not been on the throne such a short time, had we not thought him dead so soon after…this would have been addressed a long time ago."

"He would have destroyed the entire realm of Jotunheim, my friend." Fandral. Soft. Reasonable. Surely a warm engaging smile on his lips. The smile that won men to his side and women to his bed.

"Possibly." A pause. "But you did not know that when you sought to bring me back."

The silence that followed was longer. Loki looked up. Ten more steps. On the first of them, a pair of Einherjar usually stood at ceremonial guard. The final nine, according to custom and protocol, only Asgard's ruler could climb.

"Thor…." The name was spoken as a frustrated plea. From the lack of response, Loki imagined that Thor's soft spot for Sif, for each of his friends but especially for Sif, to whom Thor had been a mentor of sorts, wasn't quite as soft as she hoped, not right now.

The negotiations, it seemed, were over. Thor had held firm.

Loki fixed his eyes on the throne and climbed, shifting the appearance of his attire as he went. From the supple leather of boots not armored for fighting, to the slimmer, smoother, more elegant horns on his helmet, he was now back to essentially what he'd worn for the treaty-signing yesterday, and entirely what he'd worn the day they'd come to the throne room and found him instead of Odin. When he reached the throne itself, he turned, green cape flowing around and behind him. He looked down at Thor's friends and a thrill of cruelty raced up his spine. He remembered this feeling. The power of life and death, Sif had put it. The power to obliterate Jotunheim and look like the greatest hero king in the history of Asgard for doing so. An evolution in the order of the realms. Thor's friends kneeling before him.

They weren't kneeling now. That was fine. Thor started up the steps toward him, but for the moment, for this one narrow purpose, even though he was no longer even in the line of succession, that throne was his. He took a small step backward, put his hands on the arms of the throne, and sat.

He caught Jane's eye, and some of the fire instantly went out of him, not a single conscious thought involved. A rebounding flash of resentment died out as soon as it flared. Jane wasn't robbing him of anything with her presence here. "You were a different person." "Loki was not himself." The words held more truth than he'd initially thought. He had not been himself. He had not at all been himself. Yes, he'd plotted to keep Thor off the throne, but because he'd genuinely believed it would have been a disaster waiting to happen. He had only meant to delay Thor's ascension to the throne, not to keep him off it forever and install himself upon it instead. Yes, he'd envied Thor – had always envied him, in one way or another – and if asked at the right time, he may well have said he hated Thor. But it was nothing like after he found out he was a Frost Giant. Everything had changed then. That was when he'd decided the throne not just could be his but should be his, when he'd decided that Thor could live and die on Midgard, rejected and alone.

He'd come back from Jotunheim more injured than either Fandral or Volstagg and he'd stitched up his wounds with hatred and rage.

Jane wasn't robbing him of anything. She was reminding him of who he was.

Not his name, not his title, not his family, not the Aesir and not the Frost Giants. Him. The person who'd begun to emerge at the South Pole, apart from every single one of those other things. The person who'd told Jane he wasn't a torturer; the person Jane said wasn't a monster.

Thor stood just a couple of steps below him now, as high as could without blocking the throne, perhaps wanting to assert on whose throne Loki sat, perhaps readying himself to step in if he didn't like what Loki said. Loki didn't concern himself with it. He felt calm, alert…alive. Himself. Himself with more power than he'd ever had when his mind was this clear. Whether he chose to be lenient or severe, his decision would be a sober one, not from behind a haze of anger and a thousand years of resentments large and small. Just as a king should be, he thought as a shrewd smile spread, a smile he knew they would interpret as a harsh one that foretold cruelty. Let them. His truest moment as king would come when he no longer was.

"How would you like to proceed, Loki?" Thor prompted when tense minutes had passed in silence without any signal from Loki.

Loki now carefully kept his expression neutral. Just once. Just once I would have liked to have heard it from his lips. "Your Majesty." But the title did not belong to him anymore. It was remarkable enough that Thor had made no move to prevent him from reaching the throne; Loki had certainly given him plenty of time to do so if he chose to.

"I have a few simple questions," Loki said, settling back, shifting and spreading his legs, physically filling the space as much as possible with his slender frame. Volstagg and Fandral looked nervous and eager to placate; Hogun looked as stoic and unemotional as ever; Sif looked delightfully angry.

He heard Thor take an unsteady breath and looked beyond the offenders before him to see a figure approaching from the far end of the throne room: Heimdall.

Loki was momentarily stunned. Thor clearly wanted Heimdall kept out of this, yet Heimdall, who had not been present for the earlier pronouncement, must have been watching and had chosen to come, knowing full well what was taking place. This is going to get interesting, Loki thought. Heimdall's role in Thor's friends' crime could not now be ignored despite Thor's wishes, and his presence added new layers to the choice before Loki, as well as to the impact of that choice. A simple decision had just become anything but. The gears in his mind gained speed, sparking and crackling with all the possibilities and combinations. Before him stood not just four of Asgard's greatest warriors and Asgard's king's closest friends, but Asgard's uniquely powerful gatekeeper.

Loki couldn't entirely hold back the giddy shiver that swept over him. Thor's blood sang for battle. Loki's blood sang for this.

Heimdall came to a stop without joining the row the Warriors Three and Sif had made – he had not been called there, after all – but stood only a few feet away, closer to them than to Jane and Finnulfur, the only others left after even the Einherjar and servants were dismissed from the entrances and shadowed alcoves.

Loki decided to get the easiest decision out of the way. "First, though, let me be clear. Your crimes were against the throne, thus their consequences will be decided not by a magistrate but by the throne." The smile that slid over his face was the opposite of friendly. "By me."

Holding onto the malevolent expression became a trial in itself as nervous eyes – even Hogun's – sought Thor's. Only Heimdall did not react; of course, only Heimdall stood there by choice. The deliberation and pronouncement over Geirmund had been more of a source of anxiety and unease than he'd realized; this, by comparison, was a source of delight. Thor, he remembered, had sent Odin and Frigga away for it, which surely helped.

"When last you came before my throne, you expected to find Odin here. Yes?"

The four glanced among themselves, before silently agreeing Volstagg would speak. "We did, ah, my, ah, my prince."

Volstagg's stumbling and discomfort over how to address him – a prince seated on a throne – was amusing.

"It was dark," Volstagg continued. "We didn't expect to find anyone else."

"It was dark out of respect for the All-Father's plight," Loki said somberly. It had been dark because he'd told the advisors he wouldn't be conducting any official duties. And because it suited Loki's mood. And because it allowed him to think and plan while soaking in the greatest symbol of power in all the Nine Realms. "And you did find someone else. At which point you were forced to abandon your original purpose in coming before the throne. I'm curious, my friends, what was your original purpose?"

Fandral's eyes fell shut as his shoulders sagged, while Sif's anger flared unabated and Hogun watched Loki unflinchingly. Volstagg swallowed and began trying to get an answer out. "We were talking, you see, and, ah, after you left the Healing Room, and, well, you were there. You know how it was. Everything seemed out of control. And you were all…moody. Ah, that is, we were all moody after that, I suppose, and—"

"Laufey said there were traitors in the House of Odin. And you have always envied Thor," Hogun said. "We worried that you had been plotting something. And we were right."

Loki very deliberately did not breathe for ten seconds, and when he did, he was careful to keep the breath slow and steady. He hadn't expected any of them to be quite so aggressively blunt; none of them had ever dared speak to him that way before. He should have expected it, though. This was a new kind of brinksmanship with them. But they would not force any reaction from him that he did not choose. Thor was looking up at him with nervous guilt. Loki ignored him, and took care not to glance Jane's way for even an instant. "I don't recall Laufey mentioning my name. And each of you has always envied Thor. What I did, I did not do out of envy."

"No? Your heart was pure, was it?" Sif said, voice full of venom, while Volstagg seemed to be struggling with whether to try to stop her. "You did it for Asgard's sake? That line you gave us about why you wouldn't go to the All-Father to plead on Thor's behalf? That Thor was reckless? Arrogant? Dangerous? Not what Asgard needed in a king? Your own words were all but treasonous that day!"

"And which of you disagreed with them?" Loki shot back. He waited. He couldn't resist angling his head to be able to better see Thor. His once-brother stood tall, but Loki could see the discomfort in Thor's fidgeting hands, and in the way his eyes seemed to flicker about everywhere except where Jane stood. Loki sympathized with the latter, at least. Before him, Thor's friends wore variations on a scowl. "Hm? The silence is deafening. Thor was not yet king. There was no treason. Not until you went to Midgard."

"Sneaking off to Jotunheim and making deals to let Frost Giants into the Weapons Vault, Loki? That wasn't treason?" Sif demanded.

"We could consult with Finnulfur, I suppose," Loki said, extending a hand in Finnulfur's direction, "but no, I don't believe it was. My intent was to forestall a change in rule, not to overthrow. Regardless, I am not under trial today. Let's go back to your actions, shall we? Hogun, you said that when you came to the throne room you thought I'd been 'plotting something.' Plotting to let Frost Giants into the Weapons Vault, Sif, is that right?"

"Yes."

Loki looked at the others and got a crisp nod from Hogun, a reluctant shrug from Volstagg, and no more than a troubled look from Fandral. Varying levels of guilt over their actions. "Based on no more than conjecture. Yet when you found me on the throne, your beliefs evolved, didn't they? Not just plotting to let in a few Frost Giants who did not manage to breathe even one minute of Asgardian air before their lives were forfeit. You were—"

"Two Einherjar died, Loki," Fandral said.

"Unintended. Regrettable. Is that why you raced off to Midgard to bring Thor back in violation of the orders of two kings? Or was it because you took one look at me on the throne and couldn't bear to see me there instead of your friend. Let's not mince words. You went to get him to force me from the throne and install him on it instead. That is, by definition, treason."

Loki let the word hang for as long as he could – not nearly long enough – then continued before more than a word or two escaped those before him. "A king is not required to explain his edicts to you. And yet I did. I spoke of the need for continuity. Stability amid troubled times."

"With all due respect, when you said that, you couldn't have looked more ominous had you tried," Fandral said.

Loki smiled, and when he spoke, he matched Fandral's tone of reasonableness, that voice and expression that said "You can't help but agree, how could you not? I'm Fandral." "I understand now. You committed treason because I looked ominous. Forgive me, I must have looked quite ominous just now. You must have been contemplating all sorts of treason in response. Don't worry," he said, extending a placating hand. "Now that I understand the fault is mine, for compelling you to it, I pardon you for it in advance."

"Loki," Thor warned, quietly, from a few steps below.

Loki's expression immediately returned to something considerably more natural to him. He was surprised how demanding, even tiring, that little imitation had actually been. "I apologize. Sincerely." He looked to Thor. I am capable of it. Whether Thor believed him or not couldn't be helped. "This matter is no jest."

"No, it is not," Volstagg said. "And this word you toss around…there was no treason. We thought you had made a grab for the throne when no one else was around to object, just as Fandral told you earlier."

"Please try to understand," Fandral said. "You say you did what you did for Asgard's sake. We did the same. We thought some kind of madness had gotten into your head and Asgard was under dire threat."

"You are fools, asking me to understand when you still understand nothing. You made a series of assumptions based not on facts but on your feelings toward me. How did you think I came to be sitting here? Did you trip over the dead bodies of Einherjar on your way into the throne room? Did you hear of a hasty meeting of the Assembly to decide how to handle my seizure of the throne? Did it occur to you to ask anyone? Finnulfur here? Bragi? Jolgeir? Hergils, who placed Gungnir in my hands in the presence of my mother, with her blessing, by her command? And what did you think you were defying me to bring back? Thor had the strength of a mortal. You would have fought to overthrow me and install someone who not only couldn't lift Mjolnir, but couldn't have fought off a single attacker from any of the other realms? Someone whose father had just banished him because at the plucking of a feather he ran off to another realm and started a war? It was not only treason, it was stupidity!"

This time he didn't care to give them time to react. Didn't care to see their reactions. He turned instead to Heimdall. "And you. I gave you an explicit simple order. Open the bifrost to no one. How many hours had passed before you opened it for these four?"

"I did not open it for them, or for anyone," Heimdall said. "I did, however, see what they wished to do and sent for them. When they arrived, I powered the bifrost…then left to attend to nature's call."

"Mm. One can hardly ignore nature, can one?" Loki said with a thin-lipped smile. He hoped Heimdall was remembering just as clearly as he was the moment when Loki had withdrawn the Ice Casket and held it up with hands that turned blue, the moment right before Heimdall was encased in solid ice.

"I disobeyed your command in spirit, and I accept responsibility for my actions. We were, each of us, fundamentally mistaken."

Ah. So that's why you came. Heimdall didn't want to join the others for judgement. He hoped to apply pressure to free them from it. They'd spoken, he and Heimdall, more so than he had with the Warriors Three and Sif. Come to a loose understanding. Heimdall had already admitted he'd made a mistake – more than any of the other four had done – even if in doing so he blamed Loki for it. Loki had considered the matter more or less resolved, and in a way that was advantageous to him. If he brought his fist down on Heimdall here, he was probably throwing away that advantage. Then there was Heimdall's advantage. As Odin had pointed out, when someone knew your secret, that person held a bit of power over you. Although Heimdall had never given the slightest hint that he would reveal Loki's secret or otherwise use it against him, might not the Gatekeeper make the ultimate power play if pushed too hard? And if Loki pressed Heimdall about the motivations and beliefs that had underpinned his decision to enable the departure of the Warriors and Sif, might he not give answers that Loki wouldn't want spoken before anyone who remained in ignorance?

He would not give Heimdall what he wanted. He would not risk himself and his secret, he would not give up his arrangement with the Gatekeeper, and he would not relinquish these four from his grasp. Another time, he might have pushed harder, closer to the line. Heimdall had drawn a sword on him, after all. But not tonight. And this way, the understanding between them should remain.

"You saw things you misinterpreted, and you acted upon them foolishly. I should show you no more mercy than them, but because you have already acknowledged your error to me in private and now before others by coming here of your own free will, because we have discussed latitude and discretion in your role, I will not seek to chain your mistakes to theirs."

Heimdall gave a slow deep nod, a man looking less pleased than he ought to for a man who had just evaded all punishment for abetting treason, but not terribly surprised. Heimdall, Loki was certain, had known that his gambit had little chance of success. Still, it was heartwarming to see how much everyone cared about this particular group of traitors.

"Have you regained Asgardian citizenship, by the way?"

Heimdall's head snapped back up.

"I take it you failed to mention to anyone that when I was lawfully King of Asgard, I stripped you of it."

Heimdall's jaw worked, the response coming after a short delay. "I had forgotten about it, my prince. Given the circumstances under which you revoked it."

Thor was looking back and forth from Heimdall to Loki; Loki merely smiled. "What an embarrassing oversight." It was embarrassing. Humiliating. And also unsurprising. It was as though everyone had simply ignored that fact that he was king. His orders had held no weight at all. They would now. "In that case, you'll need to consult with…Finnulfur, does the process for obtaining Asgardian citizenship fall under your office?"

Finnulfur's eyes had gone wide, but his answer was prompt. "It does, Your Ma—ah, my prince, in part. Partly under Oblaudur as well."

Loki allowed himself a brief smile. Finnulfur, he thought, would have followed his orders. Or at least asked someone before immediately assuming that he occupied the throne improperly. "I suggest you begin that process immediately, Heimdall. Imagine, Asgard fighting an entire war with a Gatekeeper who isn't even a citizen of the realm."

Heimdall lowered his head as though in meekness, but Loki could all but feel the tension and anger rolling off him in waves. It would have to be enough.

Loki turned back to the four before him; Volstagg took a halting step forward as soon as he did so.

"Loki, ah, my prince…would it help if we apologized? Sincerely?" he asked.

Loki considered it. A theoretical exercise of course, because no, a crime as egregious as theirs, now that he had the chance to address it as such, could not be let go with an "I'm sorry." Any apology, though, would need to be earnest. None of them were capable of that, not truly, not even Volstagg, the first to offer it. But the fact that Volstagg could offer it, and at least believe himself capable of complete sincerity in doing so…Loki could not immediately dismiss that. He might detest them now, but it hadn't always been so. They had once been friends. Of a sort. They'd always been Thor's friends first, and not only chronologically. That was never in doubt, and yes, he'd been envious of that, too, at one point in his life. But he'd enjoyed their company at times. Even Sif, hard as that was to admit to himself. Volstagg had been kind to him, after his and Maeva's explosive breakup. Fandral, too, even if Fandral's idea of how to react to the end of a serious romantic relationship was not one Loki shared. Hogun, too, and even Sif had at least been less scornful than usual. During the war he'd listened to Vigdis telling Brokk that Volstagg said he wished Loki was there to fight with them. Much of the laughter had once been genuine, the fighting invigorating, the adventures a pleasurable challenge. They'd defended each other countless times from countless foes. They'd defended him from Thor that time Thor had snapped and might have otherwise killed him. Sif had physically put herself between him and Thor while the others tried to hold him back. That, of course, was a long time ago.

He wasn't going to order their deaths. He'd never wanted that. "Never" was, upon second thought, overstating things. But no, it would not be execution. He didn't know if Thor remembered, but he'd even once off-handedly mentioned that he thought they belonged in prison. Asgardian law placed limits on length of imprisonment, too, but acting in a king's capacity, Loki could ignore them. A king ignored the law at his own peril, of course, and in turn, the peril of his realm. But there was no need to do so.

"No, Volstagg. An apology will not suffice. You paid my commands no heed when I was king, as though they held no more weight than suggestions. You have no choice but to do so now that I am that no longer. You will spend three months confined in prison." He paused just long enough to wait for their reactions. Volstagg and Fandral looked surprised and relieved in quick succession. Hogun, unsurprisingly, did not betray a reaction. Sif glared, but held her tongue – a sure enough indication that she, too, was relieved. It really was such fun to lead people to expect one thing and then deliver another. To do it twice in quick succession…sublime. "When three months have passed, you will each submit a written statement to Finnulfur stating the crime that you committed, and acknowledging the fact that I was at the time the rightful, legitimate King of Asgard. I do not insist that you use the word 'treason,' but I do insist on honesty and accuracy."

Hogun's eyes had narrowed; Fandral looked restless; Volstagg's face looked drawn; Sif looked like she was about to explode. It was difficult to contain his glee.

"You will submit this statement to Finnulfur for approval, to confirm that what you have written meets my specifications and does not seek to shift blame or cast any aspersions on me as an excuse for your crime. Finnulfur, I trust you can carry out this duty?"

Abruptly put on the spot for a more complex question than bureaucratic organization, this time Finnulfur didn't answer immediately.

Next to him, though Loki never met her eyes, Jane was watching transfixed…watching him as king. Loki breathed in and felt his chest expand beyond the simple inflation of his lungs.

"I can, my prince," Finnulfur finally answered. A remarkably fast response for the notoriously meticulous First Magistrate.

"Good." He turned then to Thor, deciding on the spur of the moment that he had to include him. Thor looked tense – even more so when their eyes met – but not in the slightest as though he meant to intervene. "I would have you evaluate their statements for final approval, as my proxy. Are you willing?" Loki swallowed. The question had come out a little more deferential than intended. He was giving Thor an out, an easy means of extracting himself from this form of judgement over his friends if Thor so wished; Thor could easily say that it would not be appropriate, that he was not impartial, that someone else would be a better choice, and Loki would not force the issue. His defenses had lowered, perhaps more than he would have liked, but he could not find it in himself at the moment to raise them again.

"I am."

For all the tension, the voice was certain, the visage regal. Thor still looked like a king even with someone else sitting on his throne. The observation neither enraged him nor deflated him as much as he would have thought. It just…was. Loki nodded his acknowledgement.

"Once your statements have been duly approved, you will be escorted before the Assembly to read them aloud in open session. Your—"

"Thor! You must put a stop to this. He's making a mockery of us, and of the throne!" Sif cried.

"Four months," Loki said.

"This has gone far enough. You can't—"

"Six months, Sif. For each of you."

"Sif!" Volstagg clamped a hand on her arm. "I would like to be able to watch my children grow. This is not a tavern brawl. Let it not be said that we have made a mockery of the throne."

Sif's jaw had fallen open, and she threw one last pleading look to Thor. Watching it all from the height of the throne – and perfectly prepared to continue increasing the entirely arbitrary period of imprisonment – Loki saw Thor slowly turn away from them and toward him. Almost as good as "Your Majesty." Not quite, but probably as close as he would ever get.

Sif then looked up at Loki, too, steely determination settling over her.

"As I was saying, your statement will be accompanied by an oath that it is honest and accurate. If you find yourself unable to write this statement, or to speak this oath in attestation, then you will remain in prison beyond the six months, until you can do so. After you've read the statement before open Assembly, you will be released, and your statement will be published to the register. You will no longer be under judgement. But," he said, pausing for emphasis, "should you ever be heard denying your statement, meaning you have given a false oath before Asgard's Assembly and Asgard's king, I trust your punishment will be every bit as heavy as this one is light. There will never be any turning back from these statements. If you have an ounce of the honor you each believe you do, six months and one statement with accompanying oath each will suffice. Do you have any questions?"

Sif was about to say something, but Volstagg jumped in first, surely for the best. "Are we permitted visitors?"

"Yes," Loki said evenly, despite his surprise at the question. Six months without any visitors? Did they think him that cruel? He couldn't decide if he found it humorous or offensive that apparently they, or at least Volstagg, did. "The regular visitation rules will apply."

"We were unprepared for this," Fandral said, an uncharacteristic flash of genuine anger in his eyes as they briefly looked Thor's way. "It's all come as a great shock. Once we have calmed, I'm certain we'll remember to be grateful for your leniency, my prince."

A sly grin pulled Loki's lips upward. For all Fandral's seeming shallowness and simple-mindedness, there was a well of shrewd wit within him as well. Fandral may have been addressing Loki, but his words were aimed at first Thor, then Sif. And, probably, he spoke true. Sif had a temper to rival Thor's – or Thor's before he seemingly learned to control it – and was far more stubborn, but when her temper faded she wasn't entirely unreasonable. She would choose to accept the facts and write the statement. Or she wouldn't, and she'd remain in prison indefinitely as the price for her pride. It was her choice. He counted it as victory either way. "Any more questions?"

Loki waited until the silence grew uncomfortable. They could not say they hadn't been given the opportunity. "Very well. One final thought. I'm certain you're convinced that this punishment is meant to humiliate you. This is not about humiliation." It wasn't only about humiliation, at least. "It's about ensuring that you understand and acknowledge your grievous error in judgement. And ensuring that it's clear to you and to all of Asgard that obedience to the king is not optional, nor is it conditional upon whether you happen to like the king. It is lenient in part because the ranks of Asgardian warriors have been thinned. As Asgard's champions you are needed, both as warriors in your own right and in training those who will grow to refill the ranks." He gave a dry smile. "And I'm confident that even if you somehow manage to avoid learning the lesson you should from all this, you won't repeat your mistake, since your friend now holds the throne instead of me."

"You were our friend, too, Loki," Fandral said.

"Is that so? You might have tried speaking to me as one, then, instead of simply racing for the bifrost to disobey me and bring Thor back."

"In all fairness," Volstagg said, "you didn't seem to be in the mood for a friendly discussion."

Loki pretended to mull it over. "Mmm. I'll grant you that point. I probably wasn't," he said after a moment. "You know where the prison is. Given that you were unaware you would be standing under judgement this night, you have two hours to make whatever arrangements you need to make, and then I expect you to be there ready to begin your six months. As far as I'm concerned, you're dismissed. Finnulfur, see that the arrangements are made."

Finnulfur nodded, bade a quick farewell to Jane, and departed.

Thor hurried down the steps before the others, still stunned, could depart. "I will remain your friend."

Uneasy looks and forced smiles followed, the latter only from Fandral and Volstagg. Loki gripped the arms of the throne and embraced the flush of vindictive glee. He refused to feel guilty for it. Thor would survive a few moments of supposed friends not slapping his back and falling over themselves to agree with every word he said.

With the occasional look cast over their shoulders, Sif and the Warriors Three trudged through the throne room toward the exit. Loki gripped the arms even harder. Here he occupied the seat of Asgard's power, the greatest power in the Nine Realms, its thrum channeled through the golden throne and suffusing him. His chest rose and fell heavily with it. Now removed from the line of succession, once he stood from it, he would never sit upon it again.

His fingers ached when he abruptly released his hold. Remaining on the throne like a petulant child wouldn't make it any more his. And as for never sitting on it again…well, who really knew what the future held? Not in his wildest imagination could he have guessed anything that had happened in the last couple of years.

He rose in a smooth graceful motion and trotted down to the foot of the stairs. No sense lingering. He came to a stop beside Thor, who looked a little unsettled, a little lost. He couldn't blame Thor. He'd just sent Thor's closest friends to prison and Thor had stood there and allowed it. Thor had arranged it. Loki still could hardly believe it. He would have bet everything that Thor would not have acted on his complaint, would not have accepted it as valid, would not have even remembered it. The blond oaf had changed; there was no denying that. Loki had seen the evidence of it time and time again.

What more do you want from him? whispered a quiet voice at the back of his mind as Thor looked at him, then quickly away. His stomach gave an unpleasant twist. He knew what it was like to be faced with standards impossibly high, shifting, unclear – standards he could never meet no matter how hard he strove, how much he sacrificed. And he wondered now if that was what he'd done to Thor. It wasn't the same, though, of course. Loki needed to keep Thor at arm's length; anything else was far too dangerous.

"Do you still intend to depart tonight?" Thor asked as Jane slowly approached.

So Thor had decided that not commenting on what had just taken place was the safest course of action. Probably a wise decision. What was done was done; commentary was unlikely to improve the tension between them. "Yes."

"You could stay, you know. You don't have to go."

"I know." Loki drew in a slow deep breath, and let it out just as slowly, his next words already in his mind. He could keep Thor at arm's length with just an arm. An wall without end, covered in protruding shards of glass and pressure-activated incendiaries and patrolled by jaw-snapping predators for good measure was, possibly, overkill. "Thor," he said, then waited until Thor's eyes were unwaveringly on his. "You said it was nothing." He gestured toward the exit Thor's friends had just used. "It's not nothing."

/


Thanks a bunch to the couple of you who helped with a continuity check in this chapter...the longer this thing gets the more those are the bane of my existence (writing-wise), and over the years quite a few of you have helped out with that one way or another. I appreciate it so much.

Preview for 213, possibly titled "Catharsis": It's been a *really* long and emotional day.

Excerpt:

"Hey," Jane said, slipping an arm around Thor's. "You both look like you have the weight of the world on you."

"Nine of them," Thor said with a weary smile, pulled from his drifting thoughts.

"Personally, I feel as light as a cloud," Loki said, brushing past Thor and Jane, turning back to them once past, ignoring the intertwined arms. "You'll need to gather your things, I presume, Jane?"