The Long Road

5

Loki is thrown into the dungeons. The elders had quickly reallised his parentage and that his claim to the throne is more legitimate than Leif's. Even though he protested that he had no interest in the throne, there had been loud calls for his immediate execution and volunteers to do so.

Sitting in his cell, he wonders just why he is feeling grateful to have so narrowly escaped with his life when he had hoped to freeze to death on arrival. Perhaps because freezing to death seemed so simple while execution will likely be brutal, tortuous. They are still discussing his fate upstairs. He sees no one else in the dungeon and hears nothing to indicate there are any other prisoners. He settles onto the cold stone bench and stares at the wall, trying not to think about what his mother must be going through.

He occupies his time with his illusions, practicing his duplication and hiding himself so one of his duplicates can act in his stead. He cannot make any of these replicas look as he does now. He creates a mirror on the opposite wall and stares at his reflection, disgusted. But this is what he is, and this is where he is. He cannot force his skin back to the colour he is used to, but he can wear an illusion and he immediately begins working on his second skin.

Cor is sent to retrieve him and finds him concentrating. His hand appears Aesir. When Loki hears his footsteps, the illusion falls and it is once again blue.

"You are wanted upstairs."

"Will they kill me?"

"I do not know. But we will find out very soon." He unlocks the cell and Loki grimly follows, his hand resting on the sweater draped over his satchel, "Why do you seek to look like them?"

"For the entirety of my life, I have been clad in that skin. I do not know how. I have only known of this other appearance for but a few days and it still disturbs me."

"Though you are small, you are quite handsome. You ought not seek to change back. Their pale skin is ill suited to stealth. They can always be seen in the dark; their bodies cannot tolerate the cold. Why would you wish to be one of them?"

"It is all I have ever known."

Cor thinks as they ascend the stairs, "You were never told where you were brought from?"

"I was not told I was brought at all. Not until a few days ago."

"You believed you were the son of the king?"

"Yes. Every time he spoke of the future he gave me no reason to doubt."

"This must be disorienting."

"Very. As, I admit, is having this conversation. We are taught as children that those of Jotunheim are bitter, angry monsters set on destroying the Aesir. We are not taught you...we...are creatures of thought and compassion."

"Consider the years of abuse from Asgard. Would you, too, not be wary and untrusting?"

"It is likely how I shall be for the rest of my life."

Cor shakes his head, "If there is anyone left in Asgard who cares for you, do not let this destroy you."

They approach the throne and Loki is forced to his knees, "You will always kneel. While you appear one of us, you are not. You are their pet." Leif spits on him, "We do not take kindly to being thrown Asgard's trash."

Loki says nothing.

"But we will not kill you. That would be what Asgard wants. We will keep you. You will serve me; you will be closely watched." He gestures to his guards and the bag is torn from Loki's shoulder, the sweater falling at his knees. He watches as they dump the contents on the ground. They ignore the clothes, stuffing them back in the bag, and page through the book. His writing kit is partially ruined as they shove the pages beside his socks. They stare at the misshapen toy. One tosses it to another.

"Please. Stop. I know it is just a silly thing, but it reminds me of better times." The toy is thrown to Leif. He locks eyes with Loki and tugs on the creature's head. Loki feels a mixture of resigned sadness and panic, but he does not speak. He clutches the sweater to his chest and fights tears.

"My lord, he has little. What harm is the toy to him? He will likely serve you better if you allow him to keep these comforts." Cor's intervention works. Leif throws the toy to Loki and he holds it close. The bag is dropped beside him.

"You advise well, Cor. He will. Perhaps he will even gratefully follow unpleasant orders if he knows these things are at stake."

Loki knows this is a threat, "Of course, my liege. I will do the best I am capable."

"Good. The guards will show you to your cell."

With that, Loki is chained and roughly dragged to a tiny cell close to the king's chambers. His chains are removed when he is locked in. There is a chamber pot in one corner, a stone bench along one wall. He sits on the bench and carefully rearranges his bag, tucking the spare socks in the sweater as a makeshift pillow. He drops off into a fitful sleep.

A week passes and he finds his service to the king to be quite terrible. The guards tug at his chains and cause him to stumble, he is given a thin gruel once a day. He has trouble sleeping and the bench causes bruises where his joints rest. His tasks are often intentionally degrading and he tries not to think as he carries out orders. After two weeks, he decides that no one in Asgard is worried about him. He convinces himself by the third week that even his mother must have forgotten him.

He does not know when Thor arrives to negotiate for his release. Nor does he know that Thor is sent away with no promises that he is even alive.

He has just marked the start of the tenth week in his book when there is a commotion outside his cell door. It is unlocked and he stands, his arms outstretched, waiting for the chains. They do not come. Thor enters instead. Loki stares, his arms still in front of him, wrists up, expecting shackles.

"Brother? Do you know me?"

Loki slowly lowers his arms, "Yes," he whispers, "Of course I do."

"I have come to bring you home."

"I have no home."

Thor places a hand on Loki's shoulder, causing him to flinch, "You always have a home, Brother, wherever I am."

"No. He-."

"Mother said I was not to let you protest. Pack your bag. She is expecting us."

Loki does as he is told and, follows Thor from the cell. He thinks that possibly he should stand proud, as though this were a triumphal exit, a victory, but he cannot. Fear of Odin rules him and he thinks he would rather be Leif's slave than face the wrath of his adoptive father when he discovers that Thor has broken his exile.

When Thor calls for Heimdall to carry them home, Loki closes his eyes and hopes that Heimdall will possibly drop him somewhere else. He lags behind Thor as they walk from the bridge towards the palace. He does not look at Heimdall. Heimdall stares stonily at him. As soon as they are walking the streets between the bridge and the palace, Loki puts a hastily made plan into action.

Thor keeps talking, "Mother has set herself up in the east tower to remind herself that the sun always rises. She will find you a place there if you do not wish your childhood chambers. You will be safe from Father, she will not let him near you." He stops to listen, but Loki does not answer. He turns and Loki nods to him. He goes to clap his brother on the shoulder and his hand passes through the illusion. Thor looks around, frantic, but Loki is long gone and heading for a portal that will take him farther still.