Beyla - Loki

To Her, He is Dead

The golden light of Asgard's sun poured over the palace grounds as Thor, Loki, and Beyla stepped onto the gleaming bridge. The air was clearer here than anywhere on Midgard, sharper, more unrelenting. The realm felt alive with judgment.

"Can we at least let him speak, Thor?" Beyla asked as she saw the muzzle digging into her lovers cheeks.

Loki lifted his bound hands as much as the chains would allow, his expression caught somewhere between mockery and plea. His emerald eyes flicked to Beyla as if searching for one last ally.

Thor's voice was low, heavy with restrained disappointment. "No."

The guards moved in, wrapping iron around Loki's wrists and ankles, securing him until the smallest movement was a struggle. The muzzle still pressed his lips into silence, a reminder of his crimes.

The massive doors of the throne room loomed ahead, taller and darker than Beyla remembered. She could feel her pulse climb with every step.

"Release his mouth," Thor ordered at last. Beyla hesitated only a heartbeat before reaching up and unfastening the muzzle. Loki immediately leaned toward her, his chains rattling as he pinched her cheek like some cruel parody of tenderness.

"Don't be sad, Beyla," he murmured, his smile sharp as glass.

The doors groaned open, revealing the brilliance of the hall. Thor strode forward with Beyla at his side.

"Darlings," Frigga said warmly, rising with her arms outstretched. Thor embraced his mother, and Beyla followed, grateful for her presence, for the steady warmth in the queen's hands.

"We will get through this too," Frigga assured her gently, drawing Beyla close.

Loki approached next, his smile unfaltering.

"Loki," Frigga greeted, love straining against sorrow.

"Hello, Mother," Loki replied smoothly, tilting his head like a child craving attention. "Have I made you proud?"

Beyla scoffed. What a time for him to test patience.

"Please, don't make this worse," Frigga begged.

"Define worse," Loki countered with a smirk, but his words died as Odin's voice thundered through the chamber.

"Enough! I will speak to the prisoner alone."

"Allfather, I thought-" Beyla began, stepping forward.

"Alone, Beyla," Odin said firmly.

Frigga touched her arm, guiding her gently away though her eyes betrayed her unease.

⸻

Odin's gaze was cold as ice as he towered above Loki.

"I really don't see what all the fuss is about," Loki drawled, his tone carefully casual.

"Do you not truly feel the gravity of your crimes?" Odin's words carried weight that pressed into the air. "Wherever you go, there is war. Ruin. Death."

"I went down to Midgard to rule the people of Earth as a benevolent god," Loki argued. His voice sharpened when he added, "Just as you once did. Just as Beyla was meant to do."

Odin's eye narrowed. "Her duty is to let the world grow, not to enslave it. She brings life. You bring destruction. We are not gods, Loki. We are born, we live, we die-just as they do."

"Give or take five thousand years," Loki sneered.

"This is all because you desire a throne," Odin declared.

"It is my birthright!" Loki roared, chains clinking with the sudden violent motion.

"Your birthright was to die as a child. Cast out onto a frozen rock. If I had not taken you in, you would not be here now to hate me."

"If I am for the axe," Loki said with a dangerous calm, "then for mercy's sake, just swing it. It's not that I don't love our little talks, Father-it's just that I don't love them."

Odin's voice boomed: "Frigga and Beyla are the only reasons you still draw breath. And you will never see them again. You will spend the rest of your days in the dungeons."

The words struck like a blade. Loki's lips parted, trembling with fury and desperation. "And what of Thor? You'll make that witless oaf king while I rot in chains? Shall my wife be his queen as well?"

Beyla's name on his tongue tore from him like a wound. His voice cracked, filled with something dangerously close to grief.

"Thor and Beyla must strive to undo the damage you have done," Odin decreed. "He will bring order to the Nine Realms, and yes-he will be king, with Beyla at his side."

Loki's composure shattered. "She will refuse!" he spat. His teeth ground together until his jaw ached.

"She will be queen. You shall stay a prisoner."

Loki surged forward against the chains, his eyes burning with fire. "And you think you can keep her from me? She will come. She will find me."

"Not when she believes you are dead," Odin said coldly.

The words tore through Loki's chest.

"Beyla!" he screamed, his voice breaking as guards forced the muzzle back over his face. "Beyla, never believe them! My love, I live!"

The clatter of chains and his muffled cries echoed as he was dragged from the chamber into the endless dark of the dungeons.

⸻

Thor and Frigga stood before Odin in silence until Thor spoke, his voice rough with restrained rage.

"The dungeons. He is to be left alone," Odin pronounced.

Frigga lowered her head. "Where is Lady Beyla? She should be here. He is her husband."

"To her," Odin said, his tone immovable, "he is dead. She would only weaken his punishment."

Thor's chest heaved. "Father, Beyla is the only tether that keeps him from madness. You cannot believe this is right."

The golden staff struck marble with a thunderous crack. "To her, he is dead."

⸻

Thor left to deliver the sentence. When he reached Beyla's chambers, she was pacing like a caged thing, her hands trembling.

"Thor," she whispered, rushing to him. "Have they sentenced him?" Her eyes begged for hope.

Thor swallowed hard. "Beyla... Loki was sentenced to the axe. He was taken below for a private execution. I... I'm sorry."

Her face broke. Her smile vanished as if torn from her. "What?" she gasped, clutching her chest as though struck by a spear. Tears spilled hot and unrelenting.

"No!" she screamed, the cry tearing through the halls. Her anguish called forth her bees in a violent swarm, filling the chamber with stings and chaos.

"Beyla!" Thor pushed through, enduring the sharp pricks as he tried to hold her. "You must stop!"

Her sobs raked through the palace, loud enough for every Asgardian to hear-loud enough for Loki to hear, far below in the dark. His muffled cries answered hers, though no one above could know.

Frigga appeared, her face stricken, and rushed to Beyla's side. The bees circled chaotically, but the queen knelt anyway, wrapping her arms around the broken woman.

Thor held her too, steadying her as she screamed and sobbed into Frigga's shoulder. The sound was unbearable-raw grief that shook the very foundations of the palace.

And below, in chains, Loki pressed his head against the stone and listened to his wife's mourning, his own heart breaking in silence.