Prince of Lies (MCU Loki short story)

1: Tedium

A/N: For those of you who didn't read the description, this is just a short story I started writing because I wanted to try my hand at some Loki stuff. Dunno if it's any good, tbh... so hopefully you enjoy it! This takes place during Thor: the Dark World, after his imprisonment but before the other events of the movie... if that makes sense... Anyway yeah, lol. Here goes nothing!

Footfalls sounded at a consistent beat, a metallic clink pattering periodically with every jostling step. A soft sigh passed across his parted lips; the young Asgardian with the tired brown eyes. He walked with purpose, yet seemed to have no real destination. Slow step after slow step, steady paced and deliberate. He watched nothing in particular as he made his rounds, focus drifting from golden barrier to golden barrier with a sense of bored commitment. The importance of his responsibilities didn't go unaccounted for in the wandering mind of the young sentinel, yet he still found himself longing for the open air, the training grounds, the throne room... at this point, even the stables would do.

"Hey!" the young Asgardian suddenly barked, hand shooting to the hilt of his sword as he turned his attention to one of the golden encased cells. "Cut that out," he growled, glaring at the quarreling inmates, one of which had the other pinned to the ground by the throat. The guard made no effort to identify the individuals and only spared them a glance more long enough to ensure his words were heeded. Grudgingly, the two moved apart, muttering slanderous things at each other and the bored prison guard. As he turned back to his path, movement caught the sentinel's eye once more and he frowned ever so slightly.

He was up and about again...

The young Asgardian continued forward with more reluctance than before, his eyes returning periodically to his feet in an attempt to rid the last cell on the right from his mind. His spine burned, the hair on the back of his neck raising. The guard resisted the urge to squirm, knuckles turning white with the vigor in which he clutched the hilt of his sword. Was he watching him? Or was he thumbing through the pages of that infernal book once more...? Perhaps he was pacing? Or was he sitting again on the edge of his bed? Or perhaps he had not moved from his seat in the chair. Perhaps the guard had simply imagined the movement. Perhaps he was being paranoid... over-reacting.

But how could he not?

Was this not the one they told stories about? The one of whom servants gossiped and warned? Chalices and rope, snakes and hidden daggers... was this not the brother of the heir to the throne? Surely he had a right to be so concerned, so paranoid, so, dare he say it... obsessed with his every movement? Was this not the prince of Asgard? Whom all thought dead 'till he was returned to them in chains? Was he not exactly the person of whom the young Asgardian should be wary?

"What has this world come to," the voice sent shudders down the sentinel's spine, smooth as silk, sweet in his ears, stirring up a burning cold within his chest, "that we are letting children into the Asgardian Royal Guard." The sentinel stiffened his shoulders and turned around coldly. He felt a biting retort dance along his tongue, something that was sure to shut the pompous prince up for at least the time being, but his voice died in his throat, his jaw clenching closed.

He was sitting calmly in his chair, one leg crossed over the other. He propped his chin upon a closed fist, watching the guard with a passive expression. When the young Asgardian did not respond at once, the imprisoned prince raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching as his head tilted ever so slightly.

The sentinel pulled his gaze away and adjusted his chest plate, breathing in and preparing a scathing remark. However, just as he began to speak, the entity within the cell stood from his chair, and the guard's words fell apart.

"Shut it..." were the words that tumbled from his mouth, almost in the tone of a question as his gaze returned to the prince. He cringed at his own idiocy. He looked a fool, no doubt. But he couldn't help it... He didn't know the proper procedure in these types of situations! The Asgardian within the cell was still his prince, was he not? Or did his imprisonment nullify such a status? The sentinel scowled and turned away with the intention of beginning his rounds again. This was why he hated prison guard duty... he much preferred when he got to roam the halls of the castle or even the streets of Asgard. Again, he thought to himself that the stables would be more enjoyable than this awkward prowling display of power he was tasked with.