The Dark World | Book 3

Eleven: Brothers

Cold and dark are the dungeons of Asgard. Half the prisoners keeping the Prince of Asgard company, are dead, or lesser than before. He was surrounded by nearly empty cells. Alone and cold all the way beneath the palace. It all seemed fine on the outside to passing guards. Behind the illusion he manifested was a grieving Loki. Cell torn up and destroyed in his anger, he had nothing and no one else to take out his anger on but himself. The last words he said to his mother replaying over and over in his head.

'You are not my mother.'

'Take the stairs to your left.' he told the creature. The creature he led to his mother. The creature who took her life. He hated himself. Wanting to take it all back. There was no other who raised and taught him like Frigga did, all his youth. He relied on her growing up. And then to suddenly have those memories ripped away was like gutting a dear. It's inside falling out all over the place, the blood of his guilt pouring out into the dirt.

Did she die with a broken heart? He pondered. Did she die because of his actions and he never even left this cursed prison. Something he had grown used to in his time away, you see? Tortured and locked up like an animal. Mentally fighting for his life and to keep all his memories locked away. He had to forget Sigyn in that time. To keep them all safe. He had to forget.

The image of Loki approached the barrier of his cell. Clean clothes and a tidy room. He smirked at his brother Thor who approached his cell. "After all this time, and now you come to visit?" he remarked. "Why?" he spits. "Have you come to gloat? To mock?"

"Loki, enough." sighed Thor. "No more illusions."

He was seen.

Loki's image bowed his head with a sigh and disappeared. The rest of the facade fell away too. The cell was destroyed. The furniture broken to pieces and all his books torn up to shreds. Loki slumped against the wall, red eyed and dishevelled hair. His clothes are messy too.

It was like he just gave up.

He pushed a smirk. "Now you see me, brother." Thor walked around the prison corner that he was in and sat by the barrier close to the wall. Yes, he see's his brother now for what he really was. Sad and alone, but the facade that is the god of mischief will always remain. "Did she suffer?" Loki asked. Did the creature he send her way kill her quickly or did he torture her to her death.

"I did not come here to share our grief." said Thor.

"I have been asking for my wife." he informed.

"I have come in her place." Thor replied. "I came here to offer you the chance of a far richer sacrament." Thor pitched, uninterested in hearing what Loki had to say. He was still mad at him for the attack on New York and his 'death'.

Loki tilted his head interested, "Go on." he was interested to hear what Thor had to say.

"I know you seek vengeance as much as I do." Thor explained. "You help me escape Asgard and I will grant it to you. Vengeance, and afterward, this cell."

Loki's eyes glanced around at the destruction he caused, before turning his gaze upon his brother and chuckled, "You must be truely desperate to come to me for help." he laughs. "What makes you think you can trust me?"

"I don't." Thor spat. "Mother did. Sigyn does. But you should know that when we fought each other in the past, I did so with a glimmer of hope that my brother was still in there somewhere. That hope no longer exits to protect you. You betray me, and I will kill you."

Slowly, a smirk crawled onto Loki's lips. Somehow, this just got more interesting. The golden Prince of Asgard wanting to escape.

"Hmm." he hummed. "When do we start?"