Chapter Text
Chapter #1 – Homecoming
There were guards waiting for them, six of them. Of course, there would be, Heimdall would have alerted them as they approached that park in Midgard. Six guards and seven horses.
Thor and Heimdall walked off to one side and spoke quietly to each other, too quietly to be overheard alas.
Despite being exhausted, Loki stood holding his head high, looking disdainfully at the guards as they sorted themselves out for the trip down the BiFrost. He quirked an inquiring eyebrow at a few of the guards that gawked at him. If those dullards were hoping that he would froth and fret, they were going to be sorely disappointed. Of course they most likely smirked too when their backs were turned towards him. It was to be expected, he supposed, after all it wasn’t every day that you got to escort a fallen prince to his punishment.
His last act, before the chains and this Norns-be-damned muzzle had been forced onto him, had been to order and sort his clothes and hair. Would that he could have worked a stronger charm and escaped, but given the scrutiny he was under, a gradual freshening of his appearance was as much as he could do without adverse notice. He wasn’t going to be paraded into Asgard looking like a filthy beaten cur.
Loki of Asgard... No. He sighed to himself, not Asgard, just plain Loki now. Not that he had ever truly been of Asgard. That had all been nothing but a lifelong lie. He needed to forget that. He supposed that he would have been feeling furious, if only he wasn’t so damn sick of the whole thing. Now his whole focus was to get through the next several hours without collapsing and finish this farce with as much dignity as he could retain.
He tried to keep all of these thoughts and several much darker ones, from flitting across his face. After all, there was no sense providing entertainment for the guards surrounding him. Stoicism was difficult, however when Thor, his self-professed ‘loving brother’, mounted his horse and started the procession down the BiFrost without so much as a glance in his direction. Bile rose in Loki’s throat as he was instructed to walk behind Thor, with the guards slightly back, flanking him. Of course he fumed, hiding the prisoner from view would not produce the proper amount of humiliation and we can’t have that can we? It was a long, slow, tiring walk to the palace. Once in the city proper passers-by stopped to watch, he could hear their murmuring and derisive laughter grow louder and feel their eyes following him as he passed in front of them. He hated all of them, especially that blonde buffoon that claimed to be his brother.
That wave of anger caused Loki’s heart to speed up even as he stiffened his spine. His thoughts raced in a thousand different directions, making him almost light-headed. Trying to take deep breaths to slow his heart rate down was difficult, when breathing only through his nose. They could have taken the damn muzzle off; it isn’t like he could have gone anywhere with Thor, the guards, Heimdall and of course the All Father so close at hand. Not to mention chained. They would have, he thought, or at least Thor should have, but doubtless this was part and parcel of the instructions that Heimdall has shared with to Thor. He expected that even this display formation with the guards was part of Odin’s plan. Odin seldom left such details to chance.
His tired indifference warred with something a bit more heated.
Trying another deep breath to steady his heartbeat, he did notice the fragrance on the breeze, it smelled of home. How many weary months had he endured the nothingness of the void, many, many more months on that accursed rock populated by the Chitauri, that reeked of smoke and cinder and blood, then damp cellars, sterile metal rooms and finally the burnt oil and stench of exploded concrete that was Midgard. Nothing fresh, nothing green, nothing… here. Weary, angry and sore he walked, until at last they escorted him into the palace.
His temples pounding so loud it was almost deafening, he was taken to the throne room. Golden columns, gilt edged marble stairs, rows of advisors, and of course the overly gilded All Father on his massive gold throne. Frigga was also there, standing on the step, right above where he and Thor were won't to stand, in of course better days than this. She tried to catch his eye, but he avoided her and fixed his gaze over the back of the throne, on the other side of course.
He knew as soon as he walked into the hall, seeing Odin’s council arrayed on either side of the throne, that he could not expect any leniency. Well, he really hadn’t expected any, so it wasn’t a shock. Well, at least not much of a shock. Thor mounted the stairs, taking his accustomed, and now solitary place as he, Loki, the fallen Prince of Asgard, was brought to a halt in front of the throne. The guards expertly knocking his knees out from under him, forced him to kneel on the hard gleaming floor. Still he looked rebelliously over Odin’s shoulder. He was aware, from the edge of his vision that Odin had leaned forward to study his show of sullen defiance intently.
Long minutes passed. Apparently Odin liked not what he saw.
“Bow your head you insufferable creature!” Odin roared. The sound of Gungnir’s handle being slammed to the floor rang out. “I will suffer no more of your insolence in my presence!”
A hand instantly buried itself in his hair, the guard roughly forcing and holding his head down, muzzle digging into his chest and face. He was held there, heart pounding for several minutes, listening to the shuffling of assemblage. Then he heard Odin rise and descend from the dais, a ringing, like a bell echoed throughout the hall as Gungnir’s handle struck every step. Loki saw gold accented boots stop before him. The hand holding his head down was removed, but immediately replaced by a different hand, a hard fist twisting his hair tight, tearing it, yanking his head back painfully. As their eyes met, a small voice in the back of his mind noticed wryly that the All Father appeared, for some reason, to be upset. Small voice notwithstanding, the rest of him, as witnessed by his heart trying to beat its way out of his chest, the rest of him, was much more concerned.
Never in his life had Odin looked upon him with such wrath. Thor being banished was a mild upset compared to the All Father’s current anger. Loki wondered in a detached way, if opposing war hosts have seen this level of Odin’s fury. Wrenching his wayward thoughts back to the problem at hand, he desperately marshaled his arguments, so as to be ready when the muzzle was removed. He wasn’t going to have much of a chance to be heard, so he needed to make sure he didn’t waste a second of it. Nothing he said was going to get him out of this, but perhaps he could try, try to explain some of the reasons behind his actions. Having been plucked from the void, he couldn’t face that again, something else his thoughts begged. If he could just talk to Odin, he could convince him to do something else, something he could face with a shred of dignity, something quick perhaps, preferably something... sharp.
Something in his eyes must have changed or perhaps Odin had reached the end of his patience for his Jotun pawn; Odin grimaced in disgust and flung him backwards.
“Take off the gag!” He thundered as he mounted the first step to his throne, “I would hear from Loki’s own lips how he came to be so debased. How he came to bring destruction to other lands, dishonor his parents, dishonor my house, dishonor our realm!”
Thor stepped down and quickly moved to fetch up behind him; grabbing the back of his coat collar and hauling him back up on his knees. Thor fumbled a moment unlocking the muzzle, releasing the pressure and then stepping back several paces.
Just as Loki reached up his hands to remove the muzzle, Odin wheeled about on the steps, locked his gaze on Loki and his voice rang out again.
“Hear me well, Loki! I have had enough of your lies and trickery. I know much of what has occurred and will know if you lie. I want to hear nothing but the truth from your lips.” His face twisted in revulsion and after an eternity his voice lowered to a rasping hiss, “If indeed, you are capable of remembering what truth is.”
The truth. Loki couldn’t remember ever feeling sicker. His hands, which had been steady all this while, trembled slightly as he removed the muzzle and dropped it on the floor. It wasn’t even worth flinging the damn thing. Still meeting Odin’s stare, his thoughts exploded. Panic and rage billowed up inside him; his lungs stopped producing air, agony pounded in his chest, in his head, waves of pain, receding and then redoubling.
Odin. All Father. Wanted... the truth.
Oh this was rich. This was... ironic actually.
This was never going to happen. He was not a child to be stood up in front of his tutor to beg forgiveness for his bad behavior. He snarled inwardly, glaring at Odin from lowered brows. He certainly had no chance or desire to recapture the All Father’s good opinion with his version of the truth. In fact the only grace he wanted was for this to end quickly, and that was not even likely to happen. Then he felt hysteria bubble up within him. So funny, in the end he wanted so little from them all, and he wasn’t even going to get that.
He laughed helplessly for a moment and then stopped abruptly.
Rising gracefully to his feet, Loki sneered at the man he had once called father. Lips curling in disdain, he ignored gasps from the crowd, he ignored Thor whispering his name imploringly, he ignored the soft cry from his mother. Long moments interrupted by low sounds from the crowd around the throne, but never did his attention waver; never did his eyes leave Odin’s face.
And then he cocked his head to one side... and smiled.
His biggest, widest, most endearing smile.
Gungnir slammed out, striking him on the left temple, the force of the blow almost lifting him off his feet. Loki stumbled sideways, knocking over two of the guards. Their tangled limbs tripped at his feet, the chains on his wrists prevented him from catching his balance, so he fell on top of them.
Thor lurched forward, but was driven back by Odin’s wordless howl.
The guards scrambled to get away from him.
Loki sat there alone for a moment, he looked around the room, finally now making eye contact with everyone within his line of sight that did not avert eyes, his lips twitched up at the corners and he winked at his mother.
Then he licked his lips, licked away some of the blood welling up from where Gungnir’s blow had torn them. He swiped his face across his shoulder to wipe the rest of the blood away as best he could.
He then rose to his feet, stood a moment, fastidiously reordering his hair and his coat. And then, when all was arranged to his satisfaction, only then did he step back over to his original position and look up to meet the glare of the All Father.
And of course smile.
Pandemonium erupted. The council cried out to each other, Loki’s insolence was intolerable and an insult to the king, to the realm. Thor roared for them to be silent, telling them they had no voice here. Frigga moved to clasp Odin’s right arm, whispering imploringly to him. The guards shuffled and whispered and sorted themselves out.
Loki continued to smile and after a minute or so, even quirked an eyebrow at Odin, as if to clue him in on the joke.
“SILENCE!” Odin roared, shrugging away from Frigga’s hold on him. “I will have silence do you hear!”
Minutes passed as Odin huffed through clenched teeth. Face purple with rage, he leaned forward.
“Insolent whelp!” Odin shouted.
He paused glaring at Loki, who promptly raised both eyebrows in courteous inquiry, face bland and polite. Possibly, this action was not helping, as Odin began breathing heavily through clenched teeth.
Odin struggled for several moments before the words burst from his lips. “You are no son of mine! You are not worthy of the... You have no honor! You. Are. Not. Worthy!
The phrases reverberated through the hall like claps of thunder.
“Captain! This one will be taken to the dungeons and put in the traitor’s cage. No one is to be admitted to his cell without my personal, express permission do you understand. No one. No matter how high.” Odin growled, looking pointedly at Thor and then Frigga.
He whirled back and looked down at the mocking dark haired stranger in front of him, taking in the small smirking smile and the politely questioning widening of those bright green eyes. He then paused, breathing heavily a few seconds before continuing.
“But before you lock this nameless one away... I charge you to flog him... One hundred and eighty two lashes, one for each year his presence has defiled this realm.”
Gungnir flashed out. A heavy black iron collar exploded in the air, encircling Loki’s neck, knocking him back a few steps towards the waiting guards.
Odin took a deep breath before he spat on the floor. “I have no son named Loki.”
Mother gasped, while Thor muffled an oath. Loki straightened, grinned cheerily and wrinkled his eyes in glinting green amusement at Odin’s darkening complexion.
OoooO
Loki had been dragged swiftly out of the hall, guards desperate to put distance between themselves and the All Father’s fury.
With a growl and an impatient wave of his hand, Odin released the council, who wasted no time when leaving. Now in the near empty hall, Odin slumped down to sit on the step behind him, breathing raggedly.
Thor sank hesitantly down on one knee before his father, anxiously searching his face.
“Father, are you all right? Are you... ill?“ He asked hesitantly.
Nothing. Alarmed he looked up at his mother imploringly. But she didn’t see him, she was staring at the hall entrance, hands pressed tightly to her chest and eyes bright with unshed tears.
So Thor slowly reached out to touch his father’s arm, but before he could, Odin spoke in a hollow, exhausted voice. “Leave me. Both of you. Leave me now; we will not speak of this again.”
“But father...”
“Leave me,” he roared
Thor again looked to his mother. She nodded slowly and held out her hand to him as she stepped down off the dais.
They both made their duty to the unseeing king before silently leaving the great hall.