Avengers 1. Return to Asgard

**Hey guys,**

**I'm new to fan . I've been on ficwad for a while, but there are no marvel fans there! D; So I've decided to jump ship and place my new story here :)**

**This story takes place after the Avengers. It is about what happens to Loki as a consequence to his actions. It's a romance, angst, slightly horror fix that will have elements of fantasy/mythological elements in it. Inspired by Snow White.**

**NOTE: There will be smut. You don't like? Then don't read!**

**Otherwise, Enjoy!**

CHAPTER 1

New York city was bathed in a yellow glow. The sun was shining brilliantly, holding out against the chaotic mess it's earth has become. Despite the toppled buildings and masses of alien carcasses piled high in the streets, the mood of the people living on the planet was joyous. As Loki Laufeyson looked around him, all he could see was the race of humans smiling, hugging, laughing. Their mortal faces were full of happiness - delight at being alive and free. Their renewed enthusiasm for life sent thrills of annoyance through him.

That annoyance was doubled as his brother thrust the tesseract towards his bound hands. Loki glanced at the members of the Avengers, loosely ringed around him. Their expressions were hard, unforgiving. The one called Stark even came across as being smug. Sensing no chance of reprieve at the hands of the mortals, the demigod reluctantly reached out and grasped the glowing cube with trembling fingers.

Whatever fate awaited him in Asgard, he was sure the punishments on earth couldn't even begin to compare. He would honestly rather be handed over to SHEILD.

* * *

Thor felt the familiar tug of the portal hauling him and his prisoner across the realms. In the blur of azure light he caught glimpses of his brother's face.

Loki's skin was awash with the blue glow of the tesseract, his eyes focused on the power source hungrily. He had seen that possessive expression on the Silvertongue many times - when he spoke of his children, when he obtained a new spell book, in the more passionate moments of sex. Loki coveting something was not unusual, considering the manner in which they grew up. However the Trickster's lust for this power was something Thor had never seen before. Loki coveted the cube. He was obsessed with it.

For a split second Thor thought he saw a crease in the younger man's smooth forehead, a tiny line betraying his fear, but the light once more blurred Loki's face from his view, so he couldn't be sure.

Then, as suddenly as they were swept from Earth's surface they landed in Asgard. Thor stood straight as the nausea faded, but his brother stumbled by his side. He reached out to steady the bound captive, but Loki shot him a glare so venomous it squeezed at his heart. Beneath the muzzle he could hear the animalistic hiss that was forced through the demigod's teeth.

Thor could almost hear Loki's voice.

_Don't touch me_.

* * *

The short walk through the city to the palace was perhaps one of Loki's most humiliating moments. People in the streets stopped to watch their heir and the traitor prince walk by. After a few mumbled insults, the Aesir began to gather motivation and shout out their anger. A small crowd trailed after the two demigods, gaining in size the closer they got to Odin's palace.

Thor's hand grasping Loki's manacles tightened. The Liesmith ducked his eyes, looking down at his feet shuffling forward step by step. His brother's shadow hung over him like a disappointed presence. It felt as though even the sun could not bear to shine over him; the outcast, the trickster.

Loki's heart thudded loud in his ears, blending with the outraged roar of the city. He could feel the cold stares of the people, boring into his back. A small child entered his lowered vision; the boy's innocent face was twisted into a grimace of disgust. Loki flinched away from the youth's hatred, pressing back into the broadset chest of his captor.

Thor looked down at Loki, seeing the trickster's upturned, haunted face look back at him. The younger sibling looked skittish, eyes darting about him nervously like a cornered animal. The golden man took pity on the naked fear gleaming in the prisoner's eyes, and placed what he hoped was a comforting hand on his trembling shoulder.

Loki felt Thor's heavy hand clamp down on him. The weight of it only added to the heaviness he felt in his stomach. He glanced up at the palace steps with undisguised dread. His reunion with the king and queen could be nothing but grim. They may be his adopted parents, and they may have loved him once, but who could love the monster that he had become? There was no room in his heart for hope, but neither was there the room for penance. Though regret rose up inside him battling with his conflicting emotions, he couldn't imagine himself getting down on his knees and begging forgiveness. It just wasn't in him.

Loki knew that the court hated him by now. He knew that they would only see his return as an opportunity to exact punishment upon the interstellar criminal.

What he didn't expect though was the resounding silence he was met with the moment he entered the throne room. After the shrieks and jeers of the public outside, stepping foot inside the palace was like being submerged in water. Each breath was an effort. It felt like someone had kicked him hard in the chest so that each intake of air dragged painfully through his rib cage. Suddenly his heart was loud in his ears and his movements grew sluggish. After a sweeping assessment of the excessive space he kept his eyes focused on his boots, pretending to be fascinated by them as they shuffled forward, step by step. Thor all but dragged him the final few feet to the dais, and with a firm shove as an afterthought, pushed the chained man to his knees. Thor then knelt by Loki and unlatched the muzzle from his face. The trickster didn't let them see how much of a small comfort this was. Instead he schooled his expressions into an indifferent mask, shrouding his feelings from sight.

There was a pronounced silence, thick and heavy with apprehension. Loki's eyes darted everywhere but up, refusing to acknowledge who he was bowed before. He was so sure that in the face of testament he would hold his head high, stand proud when confronted with his actions and acknowledge that he was a formidable foe to any realm. But now that he was here Loki was struck with an acute feeling of being a little boy once more, scolded for disobedience. He couldn't shake the inkling that every eye trained on him was looking down on the God of Mischief as naught but a deranged fool who had leapt too high for one born so low. This notion was only reinforced when the AllFather finally spoke.

"Loki Odinson, also known as Laufeyson, you have been brought before the Asgardian court to face judgement for the crimes that you have committed against the realm, as well as against the innocent lives of those that extend beyond our border."

It was an impressive start to a long speech. Loki shifted slightly on his knees, wishing that he could be positioned more amiably. No doubt by the end of Odin's address his legs would be ready to give out against the rock hard floor.

The King of Asgard continued by listing Loki' numerous and varied crimes. As the list lengthened, growing progressively worse in terms of content, there were murmurs among the court. Loki felt a faint rise of blood to his cheeks at some of the insults and he had to fight the urge to stand up and demand that the pleasantry leave. It was one thing to have your wrongs listed in front of family, but having the entire noble population listen in as well was another. In his mind, the Silvertongue was already thinking up an assortment of horrendous things he would do the court to exact his revenge upon them for this. As far as he was concerned they were idle gossip mongers, with little more use than human lap dogs - kept around only for looks and to fill a space.

By the time the AllFather finished his deliverance, Loki was seething with annoyance. He flinched when the King addressed him directly, forgetting momentarily that the attention was on him for once, not his brother, and he was expected to speak.

"I don't see the point in pleading innocent." he snapped, finally gathering the courage to look up at the throne. The weathered face that stared down at him was expectedly impassive. "After all, there's enough evidence I'm sure to hang me a dozen times over."

Odin didn't blink at the demigod's bitter words, but a horrified gasp turned his gaze to the left, where the Queen sat. Frigga's face was alarmingly pale and Loki could see that she was holding herself back. The AllFather gave her a pointed look when she made to stand, and the distressed woman slumped back into her seat, anxiety painted across her features. Loki contemplated her grief cooly, before turning back to his adopted father.

"You would be correct in assuming that the evidence is stacked high against you." Odin acknowledged, "Weather or not it is enough to warrant execution depends on the manner of your disposition." The ancient man's face slackened slightly, poorly concealing how much he had aged in the past months. "You may have done wrong, but you are still a son of Asgard, and this is still your home."

Loki's mouth twisted into a cruel sneer. "You're sentiment is touching, but you are neither my father, nor this is my home. I don't belong here, or to any other race of unintelligible dolts." he hissed, voice dripping with hostility. He let out a short bark of laughter. "If you were expecting me to return, begging forgiveness, sincere to my little black heart, then you are a fool AllFather. I have seen things that you in all you're infinite knowledge couldn't dream of, and I have grown in my exile more than I ever could under the hands of fake parents." He shrugged Thor's hand off his shoulder and forced his knees not to buckle as he stood. "I have exulted in my freedom of this place and know that talents such as mine could never be appreciated amongst such oafs." he paused, ever dramatic, "For all your spite and all the taunts I have endured, know that none of you could ever hold me back. I'm above you all, and it's only your ignorance that prevents you from bowing to me; your rightful king."

"Enough!" Odin cried, leaping from the throne in fury. But Loki's words had already taken hold. The outraged voices of the court echoed loudly in the large space, strained now with undisguised fear. Loki could taste it on the air, and he grinned up at the AllFather in triumph. His adopted father looked down at him from the dais, neutral expression now twisted into a combination of fury and frustration. With a wave of his hand the guards lining the walls began to close in on Loki. "Take him away. The grey room, then solitary."

At the mentioning of solitary confinement Loki felt a thrill of fear run through him. But the worry was quickly banished as he surveyed the uproar around him. Even as the guards roughly grabbed him and shoved him through the chaotic mess of people, Loki couldn't help but let out a malicious laugh that echoed above the sound.

Behind him, Loki could hear Thor sigh in dismay.

* * *

Loki didn't struggle as the guards led him towards the holding cell. He forced the panic bubbling up in his stomach to settle. He breathed deeply, feeling the weight of heavy hands clamped down on his shoulders. It would do him no good to fight back now; the cuffs of enchanted metal fastened to his wrists dampened his powers and he had no chance of overpowering the Aesir garrison. Not to mention the solid tread of Thor's footsteps behind him was an ominous reminder of an added level of security. Even if Loki was able to slip loose of the guards, he had no hope of getting past his former brother.

After an uncomfortable length of silent walking, they finally stopped in front of a foreboding looking door. The black wood was varnished to a high shine, making the surface slick and without handholds. There wasn't even a latch. The only indentation into the glossy surface was a shallow engraving. It simply read "_Grey Room_." Those two unsettling words only added to the hysteria that Loki was trying to force down. He struggled to keep his features blank as one of the guards rapped on the disquieting door in a short pattern. A code, evidently.

"So much security, just for me. You'd think I killed someone." The demigod grinned, watching the Asgardians' expressions turn from uneasy to disgusted in a few short seconds.

Behind him he could hear Thor's disappointed sigh. "Hush Loki."

The despair in his tone startled the liesmith. He didn't think the golden man was that unsettled by Loki's imprisonment. However he didn't have long to ponder that thought before the black door slid open and he was shoved roughly into the space beyond.

The _grey room_ as it were, was completely white. The slick floor was rock hard beneath Loki's feet and each footstep echoed in the stark space. A group of uniformed men were assembled in a line against the opposite wall. He was being propelled towards them, and the moment of confusion clouding his mind was unpleasantly wiped clear when his eyes spotted the manacles bolted to the white wall. That, and the long length of leather coiled in a burly guard's hand destroyed the calm facade he had managed to achieve. Loki's heels dug uselessly against the rock hard floor and he began to twist and turn in the grip of the guards.

"No!" the strangled cry tore free of his lips. "There must be some mistake, Odin never gave this order!"

His horrified protests went unanswered. The guards at his side's only tightened their grip on him. In a panicked daze he vaguely noticed his body being stripped of armour and clothing, until he was only left with his slim fitted pants. A man with no mercy in his eyes then lifted the demigod's arms forcefully and locked them into the metal restraints. Loki immediately tried pulling back, but the manacles didn't even budge. Around him was the low murmur of a heated discussion, but his mind was too clouded with dread to distinguish what they were saying.

After a tense pause he felt a warm hand on the bare skin on his back.

"Brother?"

Loki focused on the wall in front of his face, refusing to turn to Thor, lest the mighty warrior see his fear. His tongue was too thick and dry at first to answer.

"Loki, I'm sorry for this… We didn't tell you because we knew you'd struggle and I-" Thor's voice cracked and he took a moment to regain his composure. "I couldn't bare the thought of you hurting yourself any more than-"

"Don't." Loki said coldly. "Just don't bother acting like you care."

Thor let out a harsh breath that tickled the back of Loki's neck.

Loki then felt a soft bundle being pressed against his lips by two large fingers. He squirmed backwards for a moment, but Thor managed to get his thumb in between the trickster's teeth and prised his jaw wide enough to wedge a roll of thick fabric between his back molars.

"Don't fight me Loki," Thor commanded when Loki tried to spilt the gag out. "it is necessary. The fabric won't stop the pain, but at least you won't bite your tongue off."

The dark haired demigod sighed heavily, accepting Thor's words. He let his head fall forward against the cold wall and chewed on the material experimentally.

Thor hesitated, seeming to want to say something more, but Loki shrugged the hand on his shoulder off.

The blonde demigod stepped back from the prisoner, heart constricting at the sight of his beloved brother restrained so. A guard cleared his throat, words coming out awkwardly.

"Uh, my lord? You may want to leave. It would be best if you didn't have to see this."

Thor wanted to stay. He wanted to be here for Loki, feel each crack of the whip with him. He wanted to be there when it was over so that he could hold his baby brother tight and protect him from the long, dark isolation sentence that would follow.

But he couldn't. If he stayed he wasn't sure he'd have the restraint not to act out against the guards. It wasn't their fault they were assigned this duty.

The demigod turned and took six long strides without looking back, until he was outside the grey room and the door slid closed behind him. Only then did he lean against the wall, waiting for the first crack, tears making tracks down his stricken face. With each swing of the whip he flinched, gasped, let out the cry that he knew Loki would keep between his lips. He wept, because he knew his brother wouldn't.

_- To be continued…._

**Thanks for reading! Reviews are always appreciated.**

_**- Rabbit**_


	2. Out of his Control

**I decided to upload two chapters to start off with. If it looks like anyone is reading/enjoying it I might upload a third today **

**Anyway, here you go! **

**NOTE: This chapter contains violence. Just in case anyone out here is sensitive. **

**Hope you enjoy!**

* * *

CHAPTER 2

Loki thought that the anticipation would be the worst part - not knowing when the pain would come, having no control over it. His stomach churned with dread as he waited. It was impossible for the actual duration of the punishment to be worse than this horrendous forestalling. Surely, nothing could compare to this degrading expanse of time.

He believed that thought, right up until the point where the leather strap made first contact with his skin.

The sound was bad enough. The high pitched whistle of the whip slicing through air and then the dull slap as it stroked his flesh. The grunt of exertion from the guard, coupled with the chink of the manacles as Loki's fists clenched harder.

However, as bad as the sound was, it couldn't even begin to compete with the pain.

The first few strokes were hot, like fire. It felt as though someone had doused a metal rod in hot coals then struck him with it, letting the boiling steel press against his skin for an immeasurable count of time. Each stroke landed slightly slower, leaving a crisscross trail of burning marks against his fragile skin. Then, as the whip passed the small of his back, it began to inch upwards. The strokes that overlay previous marks made Loki bite down harder on the fabric roll. After two dozen lashes he heard his jaw crack, bones complaining at the unrelenting pressure. However he couldn't open his mouth, couldn't cry out and give the Asgardians the pleasure of his pain. It became harder with each stroke not to howl. A primal scream was working it's way slowly up the clenched muscles of his throat. He felt that any second now his resolve would give in and he would shriek like the wounded animal he was.

The guards watched, some recoiling at the sight, other's relishing it.

"I knew it; the bloody trickster can't be a sentiment being. He doesn't cry out, doesn't scream. It's unnatural." one man said, nudging the brunette to his left.

The second guard nodded. "I've seen men with four times the bravery than this worm fall to pieces beneath the lash. If he had a scrap of humanity left in him the demigod would but make a sound."

Over the rushing in his hears Loki heard the Asgardian's words, but instead of making him cry out it only resolved his desire to keep his silence.

_Let them think I'm inhuman_, he thought bitterly, _because they're right._

As the count reached thirty Loki felt a dark cloud begin to encompass his mind. It pressed down on his thoughts, blurring the edges of his sight. He welcomed the blackness, finding solace in it's depths. As he sunk into unconsciousness he found reprieve from the burning pain. Sleep would numb his body from the abuse it was being inflicted.

Sadly though, the escape didn't last. Not long after he drifted away Loki was awoken by the icy sensation of cold water splashing across his face. He spluttered, wincing as reality washed back over him. By now it felt as though every inch of his back had been branded.

"Wake up! Order's are to keep you conscious." someone muttered roughly in his ear.

Loki didn't bother to reply.

As the strokes continued he began to notice a difference. Instead of a smack, the whip was contacting his body with a wet thud. The warmth that began to run down his legs alerted the demigod to the new damage. His skin, too fine to hold out against such beatings, began to split under the pressure of the leather coil. Just when he felt like the pain couldn't get any worse, it had. He couldn't find words in his mind to express the agony. Sweat ran down his forehead, mingling with the red liquid that pulsed from each new wound. He could almost feel the delicate strips of skin folding back like shreds of ribbon. The thwack of blood splattering against the white walls echoed in his ears.

But then, right as he thought he could endure no more, the torture stopped. He waited, expecting any second to feel another flare of pain, but it never came.

"Fifty strokes, as the AllFather commanded." a guard announced.

Loki felt the darkness beginning flicker across his vision again, and once more he encouraged it. Just before he slipped into the depths of oblivion his wrists were freed from their bindings. Unable to control himself, the demigod gave out a single, pained whimper, then fell into familiar arms.

* * *

Loki woke in a cold cell. Beneath him was a thin blanket made of some fabric that felt unpleasant against his skin. He opened his eyes, looking warily at the space around him.

He was in a stone room. Three of the four walls were solid rock. The floor and ceiling were made out of the same grey, slightly marbled material. The wall opposite him though was made out of what appeared to be very thick glass. The dark figures beyond the glass wavered, the light warping as it passed through the translucent barrier.

Loki began to sit up, but immediately cried out at the movement. He had almost forgotten his abused back, which now flared up angrily as his skin shifted. Instead of trying to move again the demigod slumped back onto his stomach, fisting the blanket in between his clenched fingers. A single tear ran down his cheek, but was quickly absorbed by the rough fabric.

A grating sound filled the space and three sets of footsteps entered his cell. Two were relatively light - he didn't know them. The other was heavy, somewhat hesitant. He recognised it immediately.

"Loki?" Thor sounded apprehensive.

The Trickster rolled is eyes. "I'm alive, if that's what you want to know." His voice was hoarse, mouth dry from prolonged time without water.

One of the strangers knelt by his shoulders. Out of the corner of his eye he identified her as a medic of some sort. The woman's lined face was devoid of emotion.

Thor hovered nearby while the two nurses tended to his back. The thick cream they applied stank, but he could already feel the pain receding. He was somewhat grateful he was assigned medical treatment, as the enchanted bands of steel around his wrists were still in place. Without his magic he was as vulnerable as a mortal.

The nurses mumbled something and then he felt himself being lifted and turned around so that he was sitting upright. He winced and glowered at the medics.

The older woman ignored his sour expression and spoke quickly. "Sleep on your stomach. And don't touch you back." Her voice was bland, but Loki could see the revulsion and hatred in her eyes. He doubted the medics would show him any kindness while he healed.

With that, the two women stood and left the cell, passing through the thick, stone door that swung out gratingly.

Loki let his shoulders slump a little as they passed out of sight. He avoided Thor's kicked puppy expression, instead letting his eyes wander around the room, assessing it for weaknesses. As far as he could see, there were none. This cell was designed so that even the most cunning prisoner couldn't wheedle their way out. He sighed. They obviously weren't underestimating him.

"This isn't your cell… Not really." Thor gestured around them. "They're holding you here until you've healed enough to be placed in isolation. Father is trying to convince the council to spare your life."

Loki rolled his eyes. "Brilliant." He wasn't in the mood to talk to his beloved sibling and wished that the golden man would just leave him alone.

"I bought you some food." Thor produced a small box, containing an apple and some wedges of cheese. "They're supposed to feed you soon, but I know how much you love apples so…" he blushed when Loki didn't reach out to accept the package, and decided to sit it on the floor.

Loki's mind wasn't paying any attention to his brother. Instead he was quickly doing calculations in his mind. The more he ate, the better his body would be and faster he would heal. Even though this cell wasn't exactly homey, he preferred it indefinitely to the pitch black isolation boxes. It would be in his best interests to prolong his stay in the holding cell.

"Brother, are you listening to me?" Thor's louder voice cut through his thoughts. Up until that point he had been blocking out the demigod's chatter.

"Don't call me that." Loki snapped.

Thor's mouth pulled down at the corners. "I know that you're in pain Loki. You don't have to pretend to be so strong - you don't have to pretend for me."

Infuriated, icy eyes fixated on Thor's face and Loki's voice grew deadly. "You don't know anything. You've never felt the cold sting of rejection. You've never experienced what it's like not to have a home, not to have a family. You've never been alone."

Thor's fists clenched and his calm voice grew resentful. "You forget, brother, that I have felt all those things. Father may have knocked you down a peg, but he abandoned me is Misguard. Forget not that I was cast out of our home too, and only through sincere regret and setting aside my pride was I able to return." Thor's brows drew down into a frown. "You were never cast aside. You chose to leave and you chose to wreak chaos on innocents."

Loki couldn't help feeling that Thor had backed him into a corner with that one. The energy immediately went out of him at the thought of fighting a loosing battle, and drew his knees up to his naked chest, feeling chilled. "Leave me." he said flatly.

"I should never have come." Thor returned snidely and stalked from the cell.

* * *

Days passed, morphing into weeks, and then, after an immeasurable amount of time, Loki was sure that a month had passed. It was impossible to measure the advancement of time in his windowless box. If he asked the sour faced nurse, she ignore him. No matter what time it was, there was always a guard stationed outside the glass wall. The healers appeared randomly, and though he was bought food regularly, it didn't help him keep track of the days.

The food, Loki ignored. Though his empty stomach clawed at his insides, his fear of the isolation cell outranked his hunger. That wasn't to say that it was easy to push aside the trays laden with sustenance. In fact with each new instalment of food he found it harder and harder to resist. The first few days of confinement they offered him what looked like a mash made out of some type of grain. No doubt full of healing vitamins, it probably tasted as bland as it looked and he had no trouble turning up his nose at it. Then they began bringing him cold cuts of meat and wedges of cheese. These too he refused. After a week (he estimated) the tray held a proper dinner, steam rising gently off the warm food. That was harder to resist. The aroma of roasted meat and seasoned vegetables made him grit his teeth and he had to push the tray to the opposite side of his cell, where he couldn't be tempted.

After a while, the warden must have thought to go to Thor and ask the demigod's advice, because one day the tray was filled with his favourite foods - foods only his brother could know. A bowl of green apple, diced into cubes, drizzled with honey. A jar of citrus sweets. Sweet pastries filled with nut paste. Berries and cream. Soft, white bread laden with tender white meat and roasted vegetables. Peppermints.

This drove Loki insane.

The first time they bought him this assortment he stared at the tray, salivating like an animal. His long fingers delicately plucked a piece of apple out of the bowl and he bought it to his nose, inhaling the scent. The tangy, fruity fragrance of the apple, mingled with saccharine honey nearly sent him over the edge. Only with a gargantuan amount of willpower was he able to return the morsel back to the bowl and place his hands firmly in his lap. On the other side of the glass he could see the warden watching him. The burly man was no doubt frustrated with Loki's astounding self control. The demigod shot the Asgardian a triumphant smirk. Even in his prison, Loki refused to bow down.

However, it seemed that the warden wasn't above trying new methods.

After weeks of refusing food, his keepers must have decided to take drastic action and force the sustenance down his throat. He struggled to twist out of their unrelenting hands, clenching his jaw and kicking out wildly. After much cajoling, threatening and only with the strength of an Aesir soldier, they were able to prise his mouth open and trickle the porridge-like substance down his throat.

Loki breathed hard through his nose as they held his jaw firmly shut. He thrashed at first, trying to stop his reflexes from swallowing the mash. But, after a small eternity of fighting his captors, the demigod gave in. He slumped in their arms and swallowed the food with a grimace. After weeks of starvation his stomach twisted as the slimy mash entered it, and he immediately felt queasy.

The burly guard holding his head let go and Loki shrank back into the wall, casting them all a spiteful glare. He rubbed his jaw absently, feeling his delicate skin already bruising in the shape of hand prints.

"That's enough for today." A nurse announced and they headed for the door.

As the group passed out of his cell, Loki heard a final insult spat. "Fucking wildcat."

Loki narrowed his eyes at the shut door, then glanced over at the window of his cage. His heart stuttered to see the mournful eyes of Sif staring back. Her doleful expression wavered when she met his gaze.

The black haired trickster twisted his face into a menacing leer, before abruptly sticking his fingers down his throat and heaving the small amount of food they managed to force down, back up and into the basin.

Sif watched, horrified. When she left she went straight to Frigga, reporting what she had seen.

_To be continued…._

**Thanks for reading! Reviews are always appreciated – I'd love to know what anyone reading this thinks!**

_**- Rabbit**_


	3. Time Drag

**I literally got SO excited getting a review that I HAD to post another chapter (is that sad? XD )**

**I was only going to post two chapters today, but I seem to have been taken over by an updating frenzy. **

**Please though, I'd love to hear what people think so far. Am I shitty writer? Is it okay? I'm freaking out here a tad people!**

**Regardless though, I hope you enjoy this chapter! (Sorry, it's kinda short)**

CHAPTER 3

Loki was pacing his cage when Frigga came to see him. She stood on the other side of the glass and watched her adopted son stalk the small space like an imprisoned predator. His long legs ate up the short distance quickly and with every turn she saw the lines between his brow grow deeper. There was an unpleasant twist to his thin lips that had appeared sometime in the past month. Loki didn't know it, but the queen came to his cell often to watch him sleep. In those few quiet moments she could pretend he was her sweet tempered child again, curled up on the grass beneath the orchard branches.

However with this waking Loki, there could be no illusion. His features, once softened with youth were now the hard characteristics of a man, made pronounced by his starved form. Her heart ached to see dark shadows clinging to his collar bones, tracing the lines of his rib cage. The wrap around shirt that hung off his bony shoulders was untied, and as the fabric moved she was able to see glimpses of his sides where the skin was mauled. His wounds must still be severe, because the blanket in the corner appeared unusable; stiff with dried blood. She made a note to ask the warden to replace it.

"Loki?" she voiced, after a long silence.

At first Frigga thought the demigod didn't hear her. His stride never faltered and he didn't once glance her way. She opened her mouth to call out his name again, but was cut off by his sharp tone.

"I wondered when you would visit." His voice was creaky with disuse, but it still held a thread of the smoothness he was known for. Even down and beaten the Silvertongue wasn't below impudence.

The queen reached out and ran her fingers along the glass dividing them. She wanted to embrace him, squeeze the darkness out of his heart. "I meant to come sooner, my son. And then I heard about what you're doing to yourself… I couldn't believe you were still fighting so hard."

Loki paused for a moment in his pacing. Confusion flickered across his face. "What makes you think I would ever stop fighting you?" he sent a dark looked her way, then returned to his march. "Just because you catch the wolf doesn't mean you can tame it."

Frigga sighed inwardly. "We aren't trying to tame you Loki, we just want you to understand the value of life. We've tried to teach you, but you constantly defy us."

Loki grinned, his teeth appearing sharp and white in the dim cage. "Teaching me? Was that what that beating was for? I never knew the education system in Asgard ranked whips as a reinforcement method."

"We didn't know what to do with you!" she exclaimed. "Criminals have been hung for far less than what you did."

Loki appeared thoughtful at that. His voice was wistful as he spoke. "I would rather you _had_ hung me. Death would be less painful than waking up every morning to peel strips of skin the length of ribbons off my back."

She winced at his bluntness, feeling something churn inside her.

Loki sniggered, sensing her discomfort. "So, the golden heir doesn't wish to see me now." He stopped pacing and sank gracefully to the ground, crossing his long legs beneath him. "It seems Ive finally frightened him away."

Frigga shook her head. "Thor loves you Loki. You're more than a brother to him, you're like his other half. He mourns what you are."

"What I am?" Loki sneered, "What I've become? Oh how horrid for him to have to be associated with me!"

"Loki!" Frigga cried, "I don't mean it like that!"

The demigod snarled back that she meant every word, then stood and returned to his pacing. "I have no desire to speak with you."

Frigga's face crumpled. She placed both her hands on the glass wall, trying to reach out to him. "Loki, please I can't bear to see you so aggrieved. I won't leave you like this!"

But her adopted son ignored her. It was like he had thrown up a mental barrier between them and her pleas went unanswered.

Finally, after an hour of begging the unresponsive prisoner to acknowledge her, a guard stepped in and asked her to leave. She cast one final, teary glance at Loki's stony face before hurrying back up to the golden halls of the palace.

* * *

More time passed. Excruciating time. Endless time. Immeasurable.

His visitors ground to a halt until the only faces he saw were the warden, his guards and the wrinkled, disapproving expression of the nurse. Her diagnosis never changed; "underweight, unresponsive and border anaemic. Not suited for solitary."

His wounds scabbed over, but the demigod scratched at them relentlessly until they bled again. If they reopened, they wouldn't heal. He didn't heal - he wouldn't be sealed away in some lightless casket, awaiting his inevitable execution.

Dread was constantly lodged in the back of his throat - terror of the isolation box. Being locked in a small, dark, soundless space kept him borderline psychotic. Loki sometimes felt like he was watching himself from a distance, seeing the paranoid figure crouched in the corner become a mere shadow of who he was. As his anxiety grew, his ability to sleep dwindled. Insomnia took over, colouring the loose skin beneath his eyes and sending tremors incessantly through his hands.

His body shrunk, any fat reserves diminished until his muscle tone started wasting away. The metal bands clamped to his wrists grew loose, rattling and chafing against the bone. However no matter how much he clawed at them, trying to prise them over his skeletal hands, the charmed steel wouldn't budge.

Eventually Loki began to consider death as a long lost friend that would soon be in contact. His demise appeared inevitable. Whether by rope, axe or slow decline, the trickster would die. He didn't particularly want to starve in his cell until his last breath grew too painful, but neither did he want some stagy, public execution at the hands of the Aesir Order.

Either way though, being locked away in an isolation chamber until everyone's memories of him dulled was not an option.

_- To be continued….._

**_EDIT: I have ANOTHER chapter waiting to be uploaded, BUT if you want it soon you have to TELL me, or I will think no one is interested_**

**Thanks again for reading! PLEASE send me a review though, I'm desperate to know what people think. **

**Thankyou! xx**

_**- Rabbit**_


	4. Loosing Grip

**Thankyou so much for the people who have sent me reviews!**

_**Morgan, yaoifanfake, amy,**__**bigomon, Guest, Achlys, talk-ape, MEMESDOTCOM, Guest and Applecore**_** you are all brilliant! (Hope I haven't missed anyone)**

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**It means the world to me :)**

CHAPTER 4

* * *

_*Three months later*_

* * *

Thor wasn't paying attention to Nick Fury.

The demigod made a point of returning to Misgard every fortnight for their regular briefing, if he wasn't already there participating in the Avenger's initiative. Since his brother's all out war on the people of New York, other alien forces felt it their right to test their strength against Earth's protectors. In the past six months they had defended the world from a staggering thirteen formidable invasions, plus a few smaller assaults. To say that the six of them were beginning to feel the strain was an understatement. It was taking all their strength to fend off the attacks and Thor knew that it would only get worse in the coming years.

However, that night, the Asgardian's thoughts drifted from his duty and were circling a more pressing issue. His pointer finger circled around the rim of his empty pint, making a faint hum. The discussion around him was background noise, the important words only registering to him as a murmur of sound.

His mind, rather than being focused on the challenges before him, was straying home. The prince's heart felt like a dreadful weight in his chest when it came to contemplating his brother's situation. Loki was imprisoned, yes, and he could hardly cause any trickery whilst contained in that cell. However, from the reports he gained from both Sif, his mother and the warden, the God of Mischief was fading fast. His refusal to eat had prolonged his healing and any attempts to remedy Loki's anorexia were met with extreme defiance. Frigga was so distraught regarding her visit to her adopted son's cell she had slipped into a state of depression.

As heir to the throne, Thor knew it was his duty to assist his father rule Asgard, not only in the city and lands, but inside the palace as well. Loki's sickly state, while pleasing the court and the people, was placing unwanted strain on his family. Odin refused to show extra leniency towards the criminal, struggling as it was to justify sparing his life. Meanwhile Frigga was adamant that Loki had been punished enough, and would respond better to kind words and forgiveness. Sif was even beginning to agree with the Queen - a feat considering the female warrior had once spoken in favour of his incarceration.

And then there was Thor.

He didn't know what to think. As a brother, and as something perhaps more than that, Thor ached for Loki's release. He slept little, thoughts plaguing him concerning his sibling's state. He grieved for Loki's pain like it was his own, sometimes having to muffle a groan at the memory of the lashing. There was nothing he wouldn't do to spare the demigod such suffering.

However, while his heart yearned for Loki's freedom and health, his sense of responsibility was constantly there, reminding him of the danger the Silvertongue posed. Any extra rope, any little give on their end could result in catastrophe. If he slipped out of his confinements - no worse; if he broke free of his bindings and his magic returned, who knew what horror he could choose to rain down on the people of Asgard and the nine realms?

It was no secret that Loki Laufeyson was the most powerful sorcerer known to all life. His prowess for necromancy was unparalleled, only enhanced by such tools as the tesseract. Being of humble, Frost Giant birth meant that Loki was not bestowed with a great capacity of magic within him, however with a power source large enough he could just about achieve anything.

On that thought Thor felt a wave of relief. It was by chance that the Avengers were able to take down his brother - Loki's unhinged mind was what gave them the edge over him. His insanity alone was his weakness, blinding him in battle. They were fortunate Loki was too deranged to count them in as a factor when he chose to take over the Earth.

"Thor?"

His name broke the son of Odin out of his train of thought. He looked up from the empty glass gripped in his hands to see a crowd of faces staring at him with matching expressions of concern… Except for Tony Stark, who looked perpetually amused.

"My friends," he announced, voice lacking in it's usual cheerfulness, "I apologise for my distant behaviour. I must admit, my mind has strayed to other matters." He ran a large hand through his hair sheepishly. "Have I missed anything of pressing importance?"

Director Fury raised an eyebrow, mouth turning down in one corner. "Not particularly. However I had hope you were more invested in the matter of protecting the Earth."

Thor had the grace to blush. He stammered out another apology. "My heart is truly in this cause. I must confess though that there are more issues than this alone for me to solve at the current time. Forgive me if I seem easily distracted; the protection of multiple realms is not something that affords me much space to think."

It was an eloquent explanation for the Asgardian and his confession was met with a few nods and some smiles of encouragement. Fury, though still slightly miffed that Thor has all but ignored the entirety of his briefing, was appeased and let it slide. The golden man was glad, for the director was one of the few mortals he felt threatened by. Something about the eye patch reminded him of his father.

"Well, on that note I need a drink." Tony announced, pushing back his chair and standing quickly before anyone could protest.

Steve Rodgers rolled his eyes, but followed the billionaire to the kitchen anyway.

The rest of the team broke off on their own or merged into groups, falling easily into idle conversation. Since the Avengers Mansion had been built, the unlikely squad had progressed to become unlikely friends. Though there were still a few toes trodden on, and disagreements were frequent and sometimes messy, they were quickly becoming a family.

Thor marvelled at the comradeship forged so quickly between the humans. It took many years in his home for people to establish such solid bonds. But then he suspected that it had something to do with their fleeting lives. Time was a commodity here that people savoured. They used it wisely, knowing that for them, one day, in a few short decades, it would run out. Friendships had to be made quickly, lest they were never made at all.

Thor smiled as he watched his group of newly acquired friends. Their faces were so familiar now. It tore at his heart to think that they would die while he should live on for eternity. Unlike Lady Sif and the Warriors Three, who would no doubt be companions for eternity, his time with the Avenger's would only occupy a short moment in his lifespan. Their existence would be but a brief blip, barely discernible on his timeline.

But then again, the impact that they had made on him, as a person, was so strong he had no doubt they would live on in his memories forever.

Natasha, seeing the demigod's far away expression, nudged him gently on the shoulder. "You okay there thunder boy?" she asked, a small smile playing across her lips.

Thor grinned in reply, nodding. "Never better my lady. Luckier it seems, to be part of this company."

"Amen to that!" Tony Stark cried, handing out an array of drinks. He slapped a fresh glass of beer down in front of Thor. "Now, let's see if we can repeat last Thursday's drink off, eh?"

The Aesir smiled widely, white teeth flashing. "Metal man, I think you should know by now that you've met your match!"

* * *

Loki gripped his head in his hands, hard. His fingers were twisted between locks of unwashed hair, digging into his skull like a vice. He felt as though if he pressed hard enough he could almost squeeze the unwanted information out of his cranium.

_No no no no NO!_ his thoughts swirled viscously through his mind, _This is NOT how it was meant to go!_

He just received news that Odin had decreed Asgard's most dangerous criminal to be transferred into isolation. Despite the reports on his waning health and regardless of his relatively placid behaviour, the God of Lies was to be shifted into solitary by the end of the week.

Loki had been purposefully calm, persistently quiet in order to avoid the attention of the king. After weeks with no communication he was so sure that his adopted father was beginning to forget about him. Loki had been naive enough to lull himself into a sense of security. The Silvertongue had resigned himself to die in this cell, not some black crate buried beneath the palace.

A choked sob wrung it's way out of his throat. He began hyperventilating, pressing himself harder into the corner of his chamber. He wished the stone walls would swallow him so that the warden couldn't find him.

Not for the first time since the message, Loki's fingers scrabbled against the smooth surface of his bonds. The metal cuffs encasing his wrists clanged dully, but resisted his efforts to pry them off.

"Oh god, oh god what do I do?" he whimpered to the empty room.

He could already feel his mind sinking into that abysmal pit of insanity. Once he was engulfed again in the claws of madness it would take more energy than he had to escape them.

His thoughts were erratic, flickering like a Misgard television with poor reception. They jerked between wordless dread, burning anger and cunning contemplation. Even though right now he was paralysed with fear, the demigod was still shuffling through all his playing cards in his head. There had to be a way out. Surely this wouldn't be it? There had to be something he could do?

But no matter how he arranged his play, Loki couldn't conjure a solid plan.

Hysteria began eating away inside him. His foot began to tap incessantly against the concrete floor, fingers trembling, one eye twitching. His heart rate rose until he could hear it quickening in his ears. The wet thudding provoked images of madly galloping horses. His breathing increased to keep up with the flying pulse, pumping copious amount of oxygen through his frozen body.

An animalistic snarl was lingering on his tongue.

The sensation of loosing coherent thought was like a thick wave of blackness was rising inside of him, threatening to drown his sanity. He groped the knees of his pants, twisting the fabric harshly so that his knuckles blanched white. Instead of scrabbling in his head for an answer Loki let the sheer panic of the situation engulf him.

He screwed his eyes shut, preferring the blank canvas of the back of his eyelids to the stark room. The relentless pain of his ruined body kept him partially anchored, however that didn't stop his thoughts from taking flight.

He relived all of his worst memories in the short amount of time, letting them wash over him like a soothing balm. They fanned the flames of his hatred, justifying his actions for him. The seeds of regret and guilt that had been planted by his brother, by the Queen, were squashed in a matter of minutes.

In the face of long, dark isolation Loki felt nothing but contempt for his people and loathing for the universe in general.

After an unmeasured length of time, Loki began to tear himself away from his closed off thoughts. His fingers, so long without moving, loosened their grip on his trousers slowly. The aching tendons cried out at the movement.

He opened his eyes, squinting at the seemingly bright light of the room. Though his pulse had settled, the darkness coiled within him like a snake was still present. He wanted to strike out at something, _anything_. Instead of thinking clearly, the demigod was already forming deranged plans.

He wasn't going to be dragged under the earth, not yet anyway. Before they sealed him away in some box he was going to get a visit from his brother. He needed to speak to the God of Thunder, one last time.

Loki placed his hands against the stone walls. The surface was cool beneath his fingertips. He leant against the solid structure, forcing his weakened legs beneath him not to buckle. He rose slowly, wobbling slightly.

By the time he was at his full height, Loki felt dizzy from the sensation. It had been days, perhaps even weeks since he stood. The unused muscles in his calves contorted and he had to shuffle forward, foot by foot to reach the glass wall at the opposite side of the cell.

As he went he picked up his daily tray, flinging the uneaten food across the floor. Peppermints rolled along the smooth ground, like tiny beads. With the metal panel in one hand, the other clutching at the stone for support, Loki managed to stumble his way across the room.

He paused, breathing heavily through his nose, before gripping the tray a little tighter and smashing it against the glass.

Loki had to give the architect credit; the glass didn't even chip. However the demigod wasn't so easily dissuaded and continued to bash the metal piece against the clear wall. His arm throbbed with each impact, the muscles screaming at him to stop. His fingers felt numb from the vibrations and his ears were ringing from the loud sound.

Just as he was about to pause and catch his breath, the guard on duty came barging along the corridor, stopping in front of the prisoner.

"What is your problem,_ Frost Giant_!" the muscled man shouted, putting an emphasis on his lineage.

Loki ignored the guard's slight, dropping the tray and placing his full weight on the wall. He looked up at the Asgardian, forcing his features into the best expression of penance that he could muster.

"I wish to speak to the warden." he annunciated clearly through his uneven, cracked voice. "It is some matter of urgency."

The guard raised an eyebrow, contemplating the prisoner's request for a moment. Seeing that there was little harm in asking, he shrugged, and headed off, back down the hallway.

Loki watched the man go, a shark-like grin splitting his face.

There wasn't anything sharp in the room. They had seen to that…

Or at least they thought they had.

_To be continued…._

**Please, reviews would be lovely! I can see that a lot of people are reading this, so I'm kind of desperate to know what you think.**

Also, I've had a few people interested in the book cover image. It's a digital artwork of my own. You can find it here: art/Roses-of-Ash-for-the-Trickster-311344988

**Thankyou for reading! xxx**

_**- Rabbit**_


	5. I'll Never Let Them Hurt You

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**Anyway, as promised here is the next chapter. It's a bit more emotional than the last ones, **

**Enjoy!**

CHAPTER 5

*flashback*

_"Brother, what in Odin's beard are you doing?"_

_Loki looked up from where he sat at the window to see Thor striding towards him. The older sibling was wrapped in a scarlet dressing gown that didn't hide his muscled, fifteen year old body. Even as a teenager he was an impressive specimen and Loki felt a jolt of jealousy go through him. His own lanky form fitted comfortably on the slim window sill, pale skin obscenely white in the moonlight. _

_"Nothing Thor." Loki sighed, turning away from the magnificent boy. "I'm just… Well I couldn't sleep."_

_Thor perched next to the melancholy insomniac, who's hands were clutching a new spell book. His usually immaculate hair fell in disarray across his face, casting dark shadows over his features. Thor wasn't sure, but he thought he saw a shiver go down the lithe teenager's spine. _

_"It's cold out here though, wouldn't you be better staying in your room?"_

_The sleep deprived boy didn't answer. He sighed, trailing his spindly fingers up the fogged window. On the other side of the barrier tears from the sky rolled down the glass. The distant pitter patter of rain was faint, soothing. Where Loki's fingers touched the mist gathered thickly, turning the clear surface opaque. His fingers must have been very cold. _

_Thor watched, entranced, as a dozen or so water droplets scurried across the window to ball beneath the touch. As he caressed his way to the side the droplets followed the pads of his fingers, collecting more specks of liquid, growing larger. Eventually a full cup of water shimmered beyond the fogged glass, undulating gently._

_Loki abruptly grew bored of his trick and froze the the glob of water into a block of ice. His face darkened, lips curling downwards, and his elder brother watched, completely entranced, as he shattered the cube with a flick of his wrist. Fragments of white ice fluttered down like snowflakes to the garden bed below. _

_It was a small display of the boy's powers, but anyone watching could see how much potential he showed. It was as though his magic was a part of him - the opposite side to the same coin. _

_Thor shook himself out of his stupor, focusing instead on his sibling's morose expression. "Bad dreams again?" he asked, falling smoothly into the role of the caring elder brother. "I know how much your nightmare's scare you."_

_Loki curled tighter in on himself. "They do not. I'm not scared of anything." his voice was but a thread in the satin silence. _

_Thor grinned encouragingly and placed a gentle punch on his sibling's shoulder. "I know you're not. Loki the Fearless - Loki the Brave! That's what they'll shout when we come triumphantly home from battle!"_

_Beneath his concealing locks Loki's mouth twisted down in the corners. "I don't want to go into battle. I don't want to fight people - it's wrong. It would be far more economical for people just to coexist in peace, no?" his soft voice took on a firm tone. "The realms shouldn't even be given the choice to wage war against each other. For what do they compete? Power? Respect? No! I have read about our father's all-important crusades, and in every case the loss of men far outweighed any gain. It is such a waste of life!"_

_Thor pondered that, then deciding that he disagreed, opted to change the subject rather than start a fight. "Do you want some mulled wine? I was just going to the kitchens to warm up a mug."_

_Loki huffed, filaments of hair rippling in the wake of his breath. "You're fifteen Thor. Alcohol isn't appropriate unless it's at festivals or if Father offers you a drink." Even though he couldn't see the boy's eyes, Thor knew that Loki was rolling them. _

_Thor shrugged, standing. "You're such a hypocrite. Every day I hear people complaining about the mischief you get up too. Don't speak to me like _I'm_ irresponsible."_

_Loki's jaw clenched. "It's different. I don't try to be a grown up. I know my age and I act like it."_

_The older demigod's mood turned sour. He hated it when Loki reasoned everything out, using his intelligence against him. The petty side of Thor took over. "Well no wonder you're out here all on your own, not able to sleep. Frightened of a stupid nightmare - bah! You're such a baby Loki!"_

_The dark haired youth looked up at that, hurt and anger twisting his features. His messy hair swept clear of his face and only then was Thor able to see the purple bruises marring Loki's porcelain skin. No one could mistake the dark, oval marks staining the boy's cheekbones for anything but the remanents of violence. _

_"Maybe I am still a child, but at least I don't talk about things I know nothing of!" Loki cried, standing up and pushing Thor back a step, surprisingly strong for his delicate frame. "It's easy for you to say that nightmares are nothing to fear when you don't have them, but for people like me they are horrible!" his voice wavered with unshed tears. "I am scared Thor, Im scared of going to sleep because I know that as soon as I close my eyes bad things start to happen!" _

_Thor reached out for the small boy, heart constricting. He was barely listening to Loki's words, eyes glued on the purple skin painted beneath those green eyes. "Brother, who did this to you?"_

_Loki shrank back out of Thor's reach, bottom lip sticking out stubbornly. "No one."_

_The golden brother clenched his fists. "Tell me who hurt you!"_

_The smaller boy folded his arms across his chest, letting his hair drape once more in a waterfall of black across his face. When he spoke his voice was laced with anguish . "Ask the people who you call your friends." _

_Loki then tried to walk past his elder brother, but Thor grabbed him and roughly pulled him into a tight embrace. One arm slipped tightly around the teenagers slim waist, the other hand resting gently on the back of his head, pressing it against his chest. The sixteen year old hugged his sibling close, overwhelming love and the desire to protect washing over him. _

_"I'm so sorry my brother. I knew they taunted you, but I never thought… The use of words and the use of fists are two very different things." his voice was strangled with guilt. _

_Loki rested against Thor's chest, feeling the soft, warm skin beneath his cool cheek. The feeling of being crushed against the taller boy was slightly painful, but so familiar and comforting he only wanted to press against him tighter. The hatred that had overcome him faded, soothed away by his beloved friend and brother. There was nothing he craved more than Thor's affection, except for perhaps the approval of their father. Regardless, when he was upset, the only place he found solace was in these tanned arms. _

_"It's okay Thor." Loki sighed, no longer worried about the bruises. "They don't know what they're doing. It's just… The way of children our age."_

_Thor shook his head. "But you're not like that. I've never seen you hurt anyone. Even when you play tricks on us, no one has ever been seriously injured."_

_Loki frowned at that, insecurities scrabbling in his stomach. "But I'm different brother. It's not the same." _

_"No you're not. You're the same as the rest of us - only better." Thor assured him, pressing a chaste kiss on the crown of his shorter sibling's head. "You've always been the special one, the smarter one." he squeezed Loki a fraction tighter. "I'll won't let them touch you." _

_Loki sniffed once, feeling utterly small and weak, but at the same time comforted. "You promise?"_

_Thor nodded, looking down into wide emerald eyes. "I promise. No one will ever hurt you again."_

*end flashback*

Thor reflected on that night as he ran towards the prison wing. He felt remorse knowing that his promise had been empty. Not only did the taunting and bullying continue, regardless of attempts to stop it, but as they grew older the spite people had towards his sibling only intensified. It was like the sable haired boy was a magnet for hatred and jealousy. He was fiercely loved by his friends and family, but even then Thor knew that it didn't make up for the sideways glances and hushed whispers.

_If only I had known that it affected him,_ the thunderer agonised, _He was always so calm, so strong in the face of hostility. Nothing ever seemed to faze him or get under his skin. He just brushed insults off like they were naught but petty words. He should have told me, should have told someone that it bothered him…. Or maybe I should have been a better brother and seen it without him needing to tell me…._ a small voice in his mind plagued him with guilt. _No, I should have known. He would never admit to being hurt, especially not to me once I was named heir. _

The demigod pushed his unpleasant thoughts aside, focusing instead on the task at hand. A messenger had woken him, alerting him that something bad had happened in Loki's holding cell. If the panicked tone didn't convince Thor, the blood soaking the guard's hands did.

Thor jogged into the prison quarter, nodding briefly at the man behind the security desk. Four guards stood at attention outside Loki's cell. Their faces were pale against their armour, and Thor could see their eyes flickering to the blood seeping beneath the door. He swallowed thickly before pushing open the door and stepping into the cell beyond.

Immediately Thor's eyes went to the thickset guards pinning his brother to the wall. He waved a hand at the men and they left without a word. His gaze flickered to the lifeless figure sprawled on the floor. Thor stared down at the mauled warden. The man's face was a mess of red pulp; skin shredded across the cheekbones, one eye hanging limp from it's socket. He drew in a sharp gasp, stomach twisting unpleasantly.

Loki's harsh breathing echoed through the small space, punctuated by a sharp laugh. "They took away everything sharp in my room, but you didn't think to gag me, did you brother? Didn't realise how much damage I could do with my mouth alone."

Thor looked up at his sibling, throat constricting slightly. Loki's chin was slick with blood, the thick liquid trickling between his grinning teeth. There was a crazed glint to the man's eyes, a psychotic sheen that hadn't been there a few months ago.

This was not the way that Thor envisioned seeing his brother again. He had been building up the courage to speak to the criminal for some time and he had promised himself to act calmly toward the younger man. However, seeing the psychotic actions of the deranged demigod, he began to wish he had arranged a visit sooner.

"No Loki, I know how much damage you can do with your mouth." he returned flatly, "You've been spreading lies with your silver tongue since the moment you learnt to speak."

The dark haired man's grin only grew wider at this. "When you're being physically bested at every turn by your perfect older brother, you learn to rely on the power of words over muscle."

Thor stabbed a finger in the direction of the dead man. "Words, really? That's what killed this man?"

Loki shrugged, slim shoulders curving upwards delicately. "Collateral damage." he sniffed. "Sometimes words aren't enough to get someone's attention." his pale eyes settled on Thor poignantly.

"If you wanted to see me, brother, all you had to do was ask." he growled, "Killing people doesn't help you achieve anything!"

Once again Loki shrugged. "I'll keep that in mind next time." his smirk faded slightly. "So, how long?"

Thor leant against the wall of the cell, running a hand through his thick hair. "How long until what?" he mumbled.

Loki rolled his eyes. "You know what." his voice dropped in strength. "How long do I have until Odin hands me over to the Order, so they can tear me to pieces?"

Thor turned his head away, throat too tight to answer.

There was an uncomfortable silence.

"I see." Loki murmured. "You don't know yet." he pondered this for a moment before continuing. "They're locking me away in solitary sometime this week you know - perhaps the second you leave this room. If I'm blankly honest the thought of being confined in the dark like an animal doesn't sit well with me."

Thor let out a snort. "It's a good thing you're never honest then, or I might even pity you."

Loki elected to ignore his comment and continued regardless. "Odin can't keep me in there forever. _You_ can't keep me in there forever. I will find a way out, indefinitely. I don't care if I have to die to achieve that."

Thor turned and fixed his brother with a hard look. "So what, we should just hand you over to the Order now?"

Loki's lips twitched. "Well, yes." he looked away with an air of indifference. "That's what I would do if I were you."

"How can you say that!" Thor cried, taking two huge steps and pushing Loki's body against the wall with his own. His large hands reached up to cradle Loki's bloodied head in his palms, fingers slipping through the dark locks of hair. His eyes bore down into the shorter man's gaze, searching for answers in those glassy orbs. "How can you say that," he repeated, "after all that we've been through?" His thumb traced the line of Loki's cheekbone down to his bottom lip where it settled. "I can't bear to hear you talk like that - wanting to throw your life away. You mean so much to me." his voice wavered with emotion. "_I love you_."

Loki held his gaze firmly, eyes unblinking.

Cold.

Snakelike.

When he spoke his voice was laced with venom. "Well then I guess you can love me all on your own."

Thor choked back a sob, pushing away from the wall. After so long without seeing the Silvertongue it was like being an addict, exposed to the drug once more. His thighs tingled where they had been pressed against the other man and he ached to gather Loki in his arms like he had all those years ago. But his brother's bitter voice held him at bay.

"You don't love me Thor, not really. If you loved me you would have set me free before we entered Asgard." his back slid down the wall until his skeletal figure was slumped on the floor. "I will die. But it won't be at the hand of Odin, or the Order, or even the Avengers." he barked a short laugh, "No. The one who bought me to justice was the one closest to my heart."

Thor swung back around, staring with wide eyes at the slumped figure in the corner. "You really think this is my fault? I didn't ask you to destroy the Frost Giants. Nor did I force you to turn your back on our people!"

"Our people?" Loki looked up at that, eyes narrowing on the golden demigod.

"Yes!" Thor roared, "Our people! You pretend to be so different from us but you're not. Who cares where you came from, when you grew up here with me!"

Loki struggled to his feet. His knees trembled unsteadily but anger and determination drove him to stand. "Like you! You are a fool if you think that Thor. I grew up in your shadow, and your parents did nothing to stop it!"

"They love you!" Thor countered, hands clenching into fists. He was horrified by how Loki had lost sight of that. "They adored you brother, and they will again if you would just cast aside your stubborn pride and ask forgiveness!"

"_Beg forgiveness_ you mean!" Loki's face twisted into a mocking snarl. "So that I can what? Be confined to my rooms for the rest of my life? Be allowed the privilege of sitting at the royal table to dine? Watch you ascend the throne in the height of all your glory while the people stand by and remark how compassionate you are for letting your worthless traitor of a sibling live?"

Thor shook his head, turning away from the dark haired man's spiteful expression. When he spoke his voice was laden with sorrow. "Why brother do you wound me so with words? Is this really how you see me? Am I so cruel in your eyes?"

Loki flinched at the pain in Thor's voice. His anger wavered for a moment, warping into guilt and anguish at what he had become. He took a small step forward, hand beginning to reach out towards the golden man, intending to quench his siblings woe. But in lifting his arm the torn skin of his back was tugged and a fiery sting worked it's way up Loki's spine. The darkness inside him rose up to claim his heart once more, and the moment of softness was stamped out. He recoiled back to his corner.

"Cruel doesn't begin to cover how I see you." Loki cackled, hysteria rising inside him. "I hate you, Thor Odinson! I loathe you for loving me, then letting them hurt me. I detest you for allowing them to lock me up in here, then again for not caring that they are about to silence me in a box!" His voice gave out with a gasp and he recoiled from the hand that reached towards him. "Don't touch me," he whimpered hoarsely, "I can't bear your sympathy."

"Loki?" Thor croaked, unable to comprehend the growing hurt inside him. His heart twisted painfully, looking toward the resentful man. "Are you sure I can do nothing to earn your pardon? Do you really not want my forgiveness? Do you hate me that much?"

The dark haired demigod stuck out his jaw stubbornly. "No." he sniffed in a resolutely kind of way. "You can go now."

Thor gave a jerky nod, throat tightening. With one last mournful glance at his brother, he turned on his heel and left the prison cell, feet tracking the blood of the warden all the way to his room.

* * *

Exhaustion claimed Loki once Thor left. He felt the fight go out of him, draining away with the last of his stored energy. It was like being a puppet who's strings had been cut, left slumped on the floor like an unloved doll.

Though the crazed bite in his thoughts were still present, he began to contemplate what exactly he had screamed at his brother. He knew he had claimed to hate the prince, but was that too strong a word to use too soon?

_Do I hate Thor? Really? I suppose I feel somewhat betrayed by him. But while I despise his actions, I don't know if I loathe him. Is there a difference, or are they the same thing? Hating him, hating his actions? _

He lucidly turned that thought over and over in his head, prodding at it with weak curiosity. The whole point of getting Thor to visit him was to claim the golden man's attention one last time and test the waters for his release. He couldn't bear going into isolation without knowing if there was any chance of coming out the other side.

However, his situation was pretty grim. He idly stroke the icy floor with a bloody finger, pondering the value of his life. Before, the price for his freedom had been a sincere apology. But he guessed, after the nature of his chat with his sibling, the cost had just gone up. In fact, he had very little hope of wheedling his way out this time. It seemed, for the first time, he had no ace in the hole.

It didn't surprise Loki that after an hour or so, a regiment of guards came to his cell to collect him. He ignored their orders to stand, knowing that if he was able to get to his feet (unlikely) he certainly didn't have the energy to walk anywhere.

After a few shouted demands and the odd curse, the guards seemed to finally interpret Loki's silence as dumb refusal. An argument broke out as to who would carry the disgraced prince, and in the end they all took turns with him slumped over their shoulder. They hefted him gracelessly out of his cell and into the familiar, vaulting corridor's of the Aesir Palace.

Loki glanced around him, half heartedly absorbing the sight of the golden world, for perhaps the last time. He felt a flicker of sadness, but that was quickly stamped out and replaced with his neutral, uninterested pessimism. There was so little energy left in him for emotion, Loki only felt the briefest stab of fear as the guards passed through into the dungeons. He supposed, wearily, from some private corner of his mind, that it was for the best. Being dragged kicking and screaming into the depths of the earth was not the way he wanted to be last seen. Even if his plight of starvation hadn't saved him from the clutches of solitary, at least it awarded him to keep this small sliver of his pride intact.

As they descended further and further into the cold, wet darkness below, Loki looked up from the shoulder of the guard carrying him, and was able to catch one final eyeful of sunlight before they dropped into the black.

- To be continued...

**So, thoughts?**

**Please tell me what you guys think – I am totally worried that this chapter isn't as well written as the others.**

**Thanks for reading!**

_**- Rabbit xx**_


	6. Falling Fruit in the Orchard

**Hey everyone,**

**Just letting you know that I may not be able to update as promptly tomorrow so this chapter is a bit longer, hopefully to make up for it **

**Thankyou so much for the continued reviews and favs – I have so much love for those people!**

**Enjoy!**

CHAPTER 6

"_I love you_."

Those were the three words that Loki clung to in his isolation. For eighteen months he was faced with black walls, relentless cold and suffocating silence. In the long dark of his imprisonment the demigod found himself holding on to every small, happy memory that he could recall. It was too hard to be angry when there was no one there to see it. It was too hard to feign hurt or act damaged when in reality he ached for the warmth of friendship and love.

For the first week of his confinement Loki was difficult. He annoyed the guards incessantly, tapping on the metal door and whispering frightful things to them through the only slat. He quickly grew bored of this though and insanity took over again.

For a month he railed against his confinement, screaming bloody murder until his voice gave out. He flung himself against the metal walls of his box and more than once woke up from his unconscious state to see the vaguely concerned face of his nurse looking down at him. Once awake though, the trickster was immediately locked back in his cell.

This awful cycle of screaming and self harm continued until he ran out of anger. One morning he woke up feeling nothing but unbearable hurt.

This was when he started crying.

Loki prided himself for being unbreakable. However, the hostile silence pressing in around him eventually became too much for his fragile mind to take and the liesmith crumbled into a hysterical mess. Tears tracked down his face for he knew not how long. He was so lonely it ached and the only way he knew how to express that feeling and find some amount relief was to weep.

Once, during his state of sadness, he could have sworn he heard Thor's voice. The demigod sounded pained, perhaps even concerned, but all too soon the hallucination ended and Loki tried to go back to his silent vigil. From then on though, he was plagued by voices in his head, whispering things. Sometimes they took on the tone of his family, his previous friends. Other times they were the plaintive cries of his victims. Regardless, the hushed murmuring in his ears only increased his distress. Their words revolved around the horrible things he had done and Loki found his tears dripping faster down his face, fuel by guilt.

Then, after what he assumed was a few months, Loki ran out of tears as well.

Like his anger, the hurt and loneliness in him dissipated. Only this time he was left with nothing. His time in solitary then became a bleak, drawn out interval of stillness and quiet. No sound was issued in his box, save for the occasional scrape of a food tray as it slid through the slat under the door. Loki found himself becoming one with the silence. He already felt like an empty husk, so it was easy to fill that shell with a sense of abandonment. However, instead of igniting hurt or anger at the thought of being forgotten, he found peace in the notion. He willed himself to believe that if he were forgotten, no one could hate him. If he were forgotten, no one would confront him about his crimes. It became easier still to even pretend that nothing had _ever_ happened, that perhaps he wasn't even born.

Such drastic thinking worried him. From a private corner of his mind Loki watched his sanity unravel further with a sinking sense of despair.

_If they ever drag me out of here,_ he mused to himself, _they will think they fished out the wrong convict. I don't think I would even recognise myself in this state_.

The order never came for his execution, and so Loki went on, almost paralysed with sinister calm, believing that this was all his future held. Though it distressed him somewhat to know that he could never reach his full potential; never show the universe just how great he could be, he pushed that aside and made peace with his confinement.

It was finding this balance that saw him through the next year and a half.

* * *

_- Eighteen Months Later -  
_

* * *

Thor reached out, folding Odin's limp hand in his own. He forcefully swallowed the lump in his throat, but found the tears still catching in his eyelashes. Seeing his father in this state never got easier. It was a constant struggle not to break down and cry like the little boy he still felt he was. In the face of Odin's reign, Thor's existence was miniscule. The AllFather had ruled since the beginning, and the knowledge that he would soon take over hung over his head like a black cloud.

Once, Thor was ecstatic at the thought of being King. Once he relished the promise of commanding his people. But since Loki's reign of terror and being faced again and again with the challenge of defending Misgard, the golden man was beginning to doubt himself. The strain of protecting millions of lives wore away at him, like water beating against rocks.

It may take time, but Thor knew that he was loosing it.

For two years he had been sinking into depression.

That sting of exhaustion, instead of being soothed by his brother, his companion, now pressed deeply inside him. Where there used to be a calming presence, there was emptiness. This left his nerves exposed, raw beneath the harsh expectations of his people. There was so much pressure to succeed, to make up for the damage Loki had caused, and Thor knew in his heart that he could never meet those requirements. There was only so much he could take onto his shoulders before the weight grew too much to bear.

And now, his father, his mentor, his king had fallen into the Odinsleep. Dogged by the Order for hiding Loki away, faced with the constant threat of new war, Thor wasn't surprised that the AllFather had fallen unconscious. The strain of rule combined with the ache of becoming a disillusioned parent was a load no man should have to carry, immortal or not.

Thor tightened his grip on the deathly still fingers, a surge of guilt washing over him.

"I'm sorry father." Thor choked. "I should have put a stop to this madness before it ever started. I should have taken note when Loki's mind began to unravel. How did I not see such a strong mind falling prey to jealousy and hatred?" He rubbed a thumb over the slack bundle of skin and bones in his hand. "You have carried this burden so well for so long, but after two years I fear that this woe has eaten away at your heart. I only wish that I had been stronger and helped you share the load before you slipped away from us."

Frigga, standing outside in the hallway, heard her son's despair and padded softly into Odin's chambers.

"Thor?" she whispered, reaching a hand out to her son.

The prince let his mother caress his head, taking small comfort in the familiar gesture. He leant into her embrace, unabashed to be seen needing the unconditional love and support of a parent.

"My Queen, I don't know where to go from here. I fear that father is fading fast, and the responsibility of the crown looms in my future. If I am honest, I don't know if I have the strength to step up and meet the expectations of the people." He glanced towards Odin's prone form. "I used to be so confident in my abilities, but after two years of fighting for Misgard and our home I now recognise the significant strain of ruling. How can I fill his shoes when I have so much yet to learn?"

Frigga shook her head, eyes glistening with unshed tears. "We never expected you to be fully ready to take on your Father's throne." her voice was brittle, like dry leaves. "You weren't supposed to rule alone."

Thor looked up at her, brows knitted in confusion.

The queen continued, looking unwaveringly at her comatose husband.

"We knew that you had the heart to rule, the passion and vigour to inspire the people's trust. However at the same time you have never showed the restraint that is part of the title as well. Your father and I knew that although Loki would never wear the crown, he would be a crutch for you when things were hard. His wit and intelligence would have bolstered you in negotiations and his advice would have been invaluable."

She glanced at Thor's shocked expression.

"Don't take that the wrong way my son; Loki could never possess the qualities that entitle you to the crown. He doesn't always display the selfless courage or the passion for our people needed to command them. He doesn't inspire trust, and nor is he liked by the court." she sighed heavily, "It is a shame really, to know that you both could have become great rulers. Perhaps greater than even your father. Fate it seems though, changed his path in life. We can only hope that some day he will return to us, as the Loki we know and love."

Thor shook his head. "He is still the Loki that I know and love. Even in his darkest moments I've seen flashes of the brother I grew up with. He's there, beneath the layers of bitterness and spite, and I'm sure with the right treatment he would shed his mask and be my sibling again."

The queen nodded thoughtfully. "Isolation won't help him do that."

Thor's mouth twisted into a grimace. "Solitary was never the answer. The only thing is does is sap his energy and drain his emotions. I barely recognised him in those first few months." He sagged, leaning the weight of his head against his palms. "I can't even find the heart to visit him now, for fear of how far he has slipped away."

Frigga agreed with her son, her heart going out to the demigod buried hundred of meters below them.

"Did you hear? The AllFather's slipped under again."

Loki jerked out of his sleep at the sound of voices beyond his cell. The guards rarely spoke, and even though their conversations generally revolved around foolish nonsense, he still savoured the simple joy of human conversation. However, this time the topic was far more provoking.

"Really?" a rougher voice responded, "I suppose it's inevitable. With the heir burning so brightly beside the ageing king it's no wonder the old man decided to go into the Odinsleep again. Im sure the prince has everything under control."

The first guard replied dubiously. "I don't know about that. Any talk of a coronation has been nipped in the bud. It seems like they're hesitant to crown the next in line."

"Well it was only a few years back that the AllFather had to put his son in his place. I don't blame them for being cautious."

The first guard laughed. "Seems like they might even put Laufyson back into the running then, eh?"

"Ugh, that's not even funny! I'd rather face a bilge snipe armed with a pillow than bow down to that would-be-king."

There was a sudden, uncomfortable pause.

"You think he's listening to us?"

"Nah, the Frostie's a loon. Hasn't spoken a word since last year, and even then he was just rambling nonsense. His brain's probably melted from all that dark magic he's used. Nasty shit that stuff."

"Hey! You two be quiet!" another guard shouted angrily. "You want to chat? Then go upstairs!"

Loki heard the two men outside his cell grumble something insolent before falling back into silence. The trickster contemplated their conversation, turning the information over in his head. The AllFather was dormant and they hadn't crowned Thor yet. Loki knew it wasn't for the reasons the guards suspected - his brother's dedication to the realm was unparalleled. If he hadn't stepped up to the bar and taken on the throne, it would be is own choice.

As for Odin being unconscious, that posed an array of threats to the imprisoned Liesmith.

While the AllFather was asleep, who was there to stop the Order hacking his head from his shoulders? Loki mused over that, surprised by how appealing the notion seemed. While he had come to terms with his isolation, it was really an unpleasant occupation. He would rather just get it over with and die now while he still had some flicker's of emotion left within him. There was no point in decapitating a shell.

Then again, if he died he would never see Slepnir, Fenrir or Jörmungandr again. The thought of being eternally separated from his children sent a thrill of genuine remorse through the trickster. Loki often thought about them in his solitude. He knew that Slepnir would be well treated - after all the horse technically belonged to Odin. However Fenrir was untameable, the wolf refusing to answer to anyone but his father, and while Jörmungandr had a relatively peaceful nature, people were quick to look down on snakes.

Loki sighed, shifting slightly against the hard surface of the floor. He let his head rest against the metal wall and allowed sleep to overcome him once more; banishing thoughts of Odin, Thor and his three offspring. His dreams though, when he slipped into them, were hardly more comforting.

* * *

_*Flashback*_

_"Loki! Loki Odinson where have you gotten to?" Thor's voice boomed through the Aesir Palace. His loud footsteps echoed in the vaulting hallways, following him as he hastened to the orchard. _

_"Brother if I find you reading another one of your damn books I'll-"_

_"You'll what?" Loki spoke quietly, tucked away high in the branches of a tree. A thick spell book lay open on his lap. _

_Thor chuckled, craning his neck to catch glimpses of the mischievous demigod between the undulating leaves. "Brother, why dost though climb so high?"_

_He glimpsed a flash of teeth between the greenery as Loki smirked. "To get away from great buffoons who dare interrupt my studies." his words were insulting, but there was a joyous lilt to his tone. "Speaking of buffoons, what does my eldest sibling want?"_

_Thor grinned. "I'm your only sibling! And as such I think I am entitled to some of your time, especially if there is merry news to spread!" _

_Loki hummed softly. "Is that a command to come down, or a request? Because depending upon the urgency of your news I may decide to remain where I am. I'm rather comfortable you know." He flicked to the next page, as if to illustrate his point. _

_The thunderer grumbled something about insolence then kicked the bottom of the tree trunk. An armful of peaches rained from the leaves, bouncing against the spongy grass like golden balls. Loki cried out at the movement, latching onto a thick branch to steady himself. _

_"What in Odin's name was that for!" he shouted angrily, "I could have fallen!" _

_Thor smiled cheekily, "Oh but I would have caught you." behind his jesting air there was a thread of something more, something passionate. _

_"Hmph," Loki snorted, ignoring his brother's jovial manner, "I doubt it. For all your strength you're not very agile brother. That strength will do naught for you if you don't pick up your feet!" _

_"Oh I am agile, brother!" Thor declared, "It's only in the face of your light feet that I appear cumbersome. I am quite sure that you slip away from most battles that you initiate, oh elusive-one!" _

_Loki smoothed back a strand of loose hair. "That is because I do not wish to mar this perfect skin. All those bruises take their toll over time. Just look at father."_

_The Thunderer roared with laughter, "Oh you are such a woman Loki!"_

_Emerald eyes fastened on the taller man below, sparking with annoyance. "I am not! All women are vain and petty. They don't even begin to compare with me!"_

_Thor snorted, trying to contain his amusement. "Oh ho! Such pride and arrogance on display. But perchance you are too quick to judge, foolish Silvertongue, for what about Lady Sif? Is she not strong of character and brave of heart? _

_"Hmmm…" Loki pondered that, "Yes, I suppose you are right. I have made a slight error in lumping all females together." his tone implied that he wasn't apologetic at all. "However, I persist that I am right for the most part. The court woman are beyond help in terms of personality. How they can waste so much time primping and preening is beyond me, so don't you dare insinuate that I participate in such vain, feminine activities!"_

_Thor broke once more into peals of deep laughter, "I must agree with you there brother. The noble women here often fall prey to the insecurities of appearances."_

_Loki sniffed in a resolute kind of way. "The female gender is far more practical in other realms. At least there they tend to display the same intelligence and capacity for learning as men." _

_Thor nodded, leaning against a tree trunk. "I hear that in Misgard there are even women demanding equal rights. Revolutionary kind of place, is it not?"_

_The dark haired demigod up in the tree yawned. "Yes, I suppose so." _

_There was a loud thump as Loki's spell book landed on the ground, muffled somewhat by the soft grass. Thor looked up to see his lithe brother dangling from one of the topmost branches by his fingertips. _

_"Thor you great oaf!" Loki shouted, eyebrows knitted together in a familiar expression of frustration. "Will you please move so I can let go!" _

_The golden man grinned good naturally. "I thought I was going to catch you - no bruises, remember?" _

_Loki huffed, cheeks tinged with red from the exhaustion of holding his body weight. "Brother this is no time for cheekiness, I am about to let go!" _

_Thor nodded. "Aye, I know you are. So do it!" _

_The raven haired demigod donned a plaintive expression. "I really would rather not hurt myself, especially after last week-"_

_"Just let go Loki! I won't let you fall, trust me!" _

_Loki glanced below seeing his brother's upturned, tanned face. The Thunderer was wearing a smile, but his younger sibling recognised it as an honest one. Taking a deep breath the God of Mischief let go and felt the sickening swoop as gravity took hold and he plummeted down. A breathless gasp escaped him when he thought that Thor had truly let him drop to the ground, but suddenly warm arms were gripping him, absorbing the energy of his fall. Loki opened his clenched eyes and looked up to see a beloved face beaming down at him. _

_"I told you I wouldn't let you fall." Thor said, voice husky. _

_Loki felt the man's chest vibrate as he spoke and something stirred within the Trickster. His heart did a little flip flop as Thor's breath caressed his neck and he tightened his hold on the mountainous demigod's shirt. _

_"I know, I trusted you." Loki returned with a smooth smile, which turned cheeky. "I just didn't trust your coordination!" _

_Thor chuckled, the sound resonating along Loki's fingers, and once again he felt his throat tighten with an alien feeling. He wasn't used to being so breathless for no reason. _

_"Well I guess I'll just have to find a way to inspire more confidence in you." Thor rumbled, finally letting the smaller demigod's feet touch the ground. _

_Loki leant back against the solid trunk of the tree, not trusting his knees as the golden man before him leant forward. His heart was stuttering, jolted as he looked up into glowing eyes. _

I've never noticed how blue they are_, he thought becoming irrational, _it's like every colour of the sea collaged together_. _

_"What are you thinking?" Thor probed, noticing Loki's far away look. He was always curios whenever the younger man drifted off into his own head. Thor wished he could follow him, to whatever world his mind was whisked away to. _

_"I… Uh," Loki had to clear his throat, finding his voice croaky for no apparent reason. "I was just thinking…" he tore his eyes away from those sapphire depths and glanced at a yellow ball, resting at his feet. "I was just thinking how much I love peaches!" he announced lamely, bending down to pick up the soft-skinned fruit. He didn't miss the way Thor's eyelids fluttered when he bent over. _

What could that possibly mean?_ Loki mused, hand closing over the peach. _

_In recent months his relationship with Thor had become confusing, not as predictable as it had been for the past millennia. Things that were once simple now made him blush, like watching Thor eat. He didn't understand why seeing the carefree man tear his food apart gracelessly sent pangs through his lower stomach. Especially when he drank that god awful ale, throwing his head back to gulp the brew, the apple on his throat bobbing with each swallow. _

_"Hmm," Thor hummed, plucking the peach from Loki's fingers as he straightened. "Peaches _are_ pretty good." _

_Loki watched, enraptured as the older man sank his perfectly white teeth into the apricot coloured flesh. The pink skin of the fruit bowed down again the pressure, before splitting and releasing a few drops of saccharine liquid. As Thor bit further into the yellow flesh more juice sprang forth, rolling onto his cheeks, down his lips to collect in droplets below the cleft of his chin. _

_Loki felt himself swallow dryly and absently wondered what it would be like to lean forward, it would only be a few inches, to lick that droplet of juice from Thor's chin. _

_Thor must have noticed Loki's hungry expression because he offered the peach to the ravenous man. The round fruit had a perfect chunk taken out of it's side, the golden flesh shining wetly in the midday sun. In the palm of Thor's colossal hand the stone fruit looked rather small and when his strong fingers gripped it another line of syrupy liquid was squeezed from the sweet pulp. The droplet ran along the underside of Thor's hand and he frowned, twisting his arm so that he could lick the moisture. _

_"Oops," he chuckled, "careful, it's juicy." _

_Loki felt a sudden wave of panic. He edged around his brother and stumbled over to his book, still lying in the grass. He grabbed the comforting hardcover and hugged it to his chest, hastening away from the orchard. _

_"Loki!" Thor cried, obviously confused. "Brother, wait!"_

_The liesmith didn't respond, nor did he slow. His long legs powered him away from the garden, almost breaking into a run when he heard heavy footfalls coming up behind him. When a firm hand gripped his shoulder and turned him around forcefully he whimpered, caught out by the sudden movement. _

_"Brother," Thor said, voice loud and bordering on angry, "I asked you to wait." _

_Loki avoided those azure eyes, knowing how easily he could get lost in them. "I am sorry Thor," he snapped, "but I have study to do. I cannot get so… Distracted by peaches and jumping out of trees." _

_Those blue eyes narrowed and even though he was only a few inches shorter than the Thunderer, he suddenly felt tiny. _

_"You're lying." Thor growled, gabbing Loki by the shoulders and leaning down until they were nose to nose. "I don't know what about, but I'm not the fool you take me for. I can tell when you're not being honest with me."_

_"Oh, really?" Loki sneered, defensive. _

_"Yes." Thor's voice grew softer, more distressed. "You clench you're jaw and there's a slight wrinkle above you're eyebrows." He reached up with one hand, tracing the line with one finger. _

_Loki shuddered at the contact, feeling his legs tremble dangerously. "I guess I'll just have to try harder then." his voice tight. "After all, the God of Lies can't be so easy to read." _

_Thor sighed, leaning back slightly. "You take that title so seriously, like it's the only thing that defines you. Yes, you're the God of Lies, but you're also the God of Mischief, and Chaos and Fire." He cupped Loki's jaw, rubbing a thumb across the cool skin. "You burn so brightly," he mused, "and yet your skin is so cool." _

_Loki shrugged, knowing he was loosing the argument. Recently he couldn't seem to stay angry at his brother. "I guess I'm just cold blooded." _

_Thor gave a shy smile, sensing that the tension between them was fading. "Perhaps, but you have a warm heart." _

_Emerald eyes rolled. "What is that? Some clumsy pick up line you use on your whores?" _

_Thor laughed heartily. "Nay brother, when they charge you need not bother with charm." _

_Loki huffed, reluctantly leaning into the warm hand. "I always knew you paid for it."_

_The Thunder God blushed slightly, expression turning bashful. "I don't always need to. You on the other hand, never get laid with or without help from the royal treasury. The way you walk all but announces that you're a virgin!" _

_Loki whacked the taller man, annoyed. "I am not!" _

_Thor leered, pointing to Loki's forehead. "Look, there's a wrinkle. You're lying again!" _

_Loki resisted the urge to kick the larger man in the shins. It would be too childish, despite how much it would serve to slake his indignation. "Thor you really seem to have a short memory, practically non-existent. Does the name Slepnir ring any bells? Perhaps Jörmungandr, Fenrir? Are you completely ignorant?"_

_The older man only shrugged. "Aye, I know them. But there's a subtle difference between bedding a horse and sleeping with a woman."_

_"Oh you are irritable!" Loki cried, landing an inexcusably pathetic slap on Thor's heavily armoured shoulder. _

_The thunderer waggled his eyebrows, blue eyes sparkling with amusement. _

_The liesmith only managed a strangled sound of vexation in response, knocking Thor's hand away from his head. He straightened and instinctively brushed his hair back, regaining composure. "So, you announced some time ago that you had news to share." he sniffed, feigning indifference. _

_Thor, still grinning, nodded. "Aye, good news too. Father agreed to let me tell you when I found out. He could not keep it a secret from you much longer anyway. Half the court is already buzzing with it!" _

_Loki raised an eyebrow, wondering what it could possibly have to do with him. "Well? Are you going to tell me?"_

_Thor resembled a child, simply vibrating with excitement. His blue eyes gleamed and he grinned, relishing in knowing something that his wiseacre brother didn't. _

_"Thor," Loki said, clearly frustrated, "spit it out already!" _

_"Father'smakingyouheadmage!" Thor blurted in a rush, clapping the slight man on the shoulder. _

_Loki was jostled by the friendly gesture, but he didn't register it. Instead his mind was picking over the blur of words. "Father is what?" he asked, not comprehending the announcement. _

_"Father is making you the head mage." Thor enunciated, speaking to Loki like he was stupid. "Of Asgard. You know, the ruler of the magic group or whatever?"_

_Loki felt something cold settle inside him. He took a step back from his brother, turning away and looking out over the tranquil garden. A cloud passed over the sun, casting a cold patch of shade over the demigod, and he felt chilled to the bone. _

_"Oh." he mumbled. "Fabulous."_

_Thor picked up on Loki's sullen attitude, not understanding the negative response. "Brother, it is the second highest ranking in the realm! You will have access to every spell book or apparatus that you've been begging father for for years. This is a great opportunity!" _

_Loki shrugged. "I know what it means Thor. I'm not ignorant of what the role entitles." his voice was dead, devoid of emotion. _

_The thunderer cocked his head. "I'm sorry Loki, but I do not follow. I thought this would be good news, great even. It's everything you ever wanted-"_

_"No." Loki interrupted him. "It isn't everything. Just drop the matter."_

_Thor huffed, clearly not willing to let it go that easily. "No. Tell me what is the problem? What could be so bad about becoming one of the most powerful people in the nine realms? How could there possibly be a disadvantage?"_

_Loki looked up at the taller man, mouth twisted unhappily. "Don't you get it? Are you really so thick?"_

_The golden man recoiled, visibly upset. "You are cruel brother, to expect everyone to keep up with the pace of your thoughts. I am no mind reader." _

_The Silvertongue rolled his eyes. "Obviously." he gripped his spell book tightly, averting his eyes again. "Why did Odin give me this title? And more importantly, why now? He hasn't the nature to do something on a whim. No, everything the AllFather does has a purpose, an advantage of some sort." He ran a hand over his head, again checking for any loose strands of hair. "So why would he give a title of such magnitude to his youngest son, who clearly doesn't have the skill yet to make use of it."_

_"Loki, you have many skill-"_

_"I'm not finished yet!" he snapped, ploughing on despite the cold hand gripping his heart. "Why would he, unless he was trying to make the youngest prince feel self important, placated, in the face of the next announcement." He turned his seething emerald eyes on the taller man. "Do you understand yet, brother?" _

_Thor blushed, clearly not following. _

_Loki turned and began to walk away, calling sharply over his shoulder as he went. "It means that any day now you will be declared as next in lime to the throne. Odin will name you his heir, and no doubt your coronation will follow sometime in the next few decades." _

_He paused, turning back to see his beautiful older brother, his adored older brother, face lighting up as realisation dawned. _

_"Congratulations Thor." he said shortly, "It seems after all these years that you have won. You are the favourite." _

*End Flashback*

_To be continued…_

**Well, what do you think! Tell me in a review **_**please**_** because I have **_**no**_** idea if I'm even at all good at writing romance/leading up to romance!**

**Thanks for reading!**

_**- Rabbit xx**_


	7. Hidden in Golden Flesh

Yes, I am an unspeakably horrible person.

3…. 4 weeks (?) since I last updated?

Wow… So much fail on my part! What can I say – I had no internet access for two of those weeks and the last few days have been eaten up with the beginning of a new semester of university. Busy doesn't even begin to cover it.

But that's no excuse! I should have updated. In fact this chapter has been mostly finished for a while – I was just having a writer's block linking up a few paragraphs.

I am SO sorry.

I hope that to make up for my unforgivable negligence this chapter brings you some sort of drought relief!

CHAPTER 7

Loki jolted awake at the unpleasant scrape of metal on rough stone. His opened his eyes blearily to see, from the faint light that shone beneath the door, his next food instalment had arrived. Since starving himself hadn't gotten the trickster anywhere, he had resumed eating sometime during solitary. However he never had much of an appetite, especially for the new menu.

The trays were usually laden with a bowl of clear, lukewarm soup, a few pieces of bland tasting meat settled at the bottom. Often to accompany that was a piece of bread - not stale like one might expect from a prison, but neither very appealing. The dough's gritty texture made him ache for something soft and white. Two long tubes of some kind of raw vegetable were included every other meal. He still hadn't identified the plant species, assuming it was packed with vitamins essential to keep his heart pumping. A tin mug of water always accompanied his food, unpleasantly just above room temperature.

However, this time when Loki dragged the tray closer his nose quivered, detecting an abnormality.

There, perched next to his water, in between the soup and the bread, was a peach. He rubbed his eyes, sure that it was a trick somehow. Surely it was another hallucination. When the fruit didn't disappear Loki mustered the courage to reach out and pluck the orange-pink globe from the tray, holding it reverently.

_This must be some kind of trick._ Loki thought sadly, _Any second now the guards will realise their mistake and barge in here to take it back._

But, after a tense span of time, the liesmith noticed that there was no angry shout, and despite his fears, the door didn't open.

_Curious._

Loki turned the peach slowly in his stiff hands, becoming aware that with each rotation his fingers were becoming increasingly sticky.

_Even more curious._

The prisoner rolled the fruit over in his palm and saw that on the bottom there was an incision to the pink skin. In the dull light he could make out the wet shine of a trail of juice that had dribbled out of the hole.

_Funny. Whoever was thoughtful enough to send me this peach wasn't all that gentle with it._ Loki mused, finding it all very contradictory. His thoughts turned dark. _Perhaps it's poisoned. Maybe someone couldn't wait until the Order decided to lop my head off, and decided to be rid of me while I was vulnerable_. He continued to turn the peach over in his hands, enjoying the sensation of it's soft fuzz against his skin._ Reminds me of a Misgard fairytale. _

Loki heaved an exasperated sigh. He didn't have the heart to ponder over this latest revelation. The piece of fruit, so seemingly innocent resting in his palm, was quite possibly a mouth-watering death sentence. What better to tempt a lonely prisoner that the sweetest of fruits Asgard could provide? The mortals on Misgard named a similar fruit "_peach"_, but their species really couldn't be compared.

_Perhaps I should just leave it on the tray. _He contemplated. _Death has always seemed a better alternative to this meaningless existence, but really, perhaps I exaggerate in my frail state. Now that I hold it in my hands, the idea of ending my life seems rather repugnant… But still, for all my suspicions this sweet offering may be as harmless as it appears. If only I knew who desired to bestow this gift upon me._

Curiosity overruled his common sense and Loki called out to the guard that he knew was stationed on the other side of the cell door.

"Who sent me the peach?" he all but choked out, trying to form words after over a year of silence. "It would mean a lot if you were able to tell me."

There was an uncomfortable absence of sound. Loki bowed his head, fending off the pain of rejection.

"Please," he gasped, all but wheezing with the effort to speak, "please answer."

His appeal was met with a reluctant sigh. "I ain't supposed to talk to you." The guards voice was gruff, but it was still a small happiness for the convict.

"I know," Loki replied hastily, "and I promise I'll never try to speak to you again if you would only answer me this one question." He was utterly sincere, all too aware of how thin the ice was that he tread.

There was another weighted pause before the guard responded. "Didn't give a name when they delivered the tray, but it's from one of the royal family." the guard stopped, and Loki thought for a moment he had finished, but the voice continued. "I can't say if it were from your brother, the AllFather or from the Queen. But it _was _one of them."

"Undoubtedly?" Loki pressed, knowing he might be going a step too far.

The guard outside mumbled something unintelligible before responding. "Yes. Without a doubt. Had a letter of approval and everything to go with it."

Loki slumped back against the wall, aware that he was squeezing the peach perhaps a little too hard. That short conversation, though stilted and unwelcome, made him feel more alive than he had in months. His head, which for the past year had felt like it was stuffed with wool, cleared a little. His thoughts were more coherent, hope inside him shining a little more brightly, knowing that one of them had cared enough to send him this small comfort.

He felt a tear roll down his dry cheek, the moisture a sign of elation, rather than despair.

It took him a moment to find his voice again, but when he did Loki spoke with complete honesty.

"Thankyou."

This time he didn't get an answer, but the God of Lies didn't expect one.

He pondered this latest revelation, opened his mouth and sank his teeth into secretive, golden flesh.

* * *

*Flashback*

_Loki ran his hands through the long, rich grass. The sun hung high above him, vibrant blue sky curving over Asgard like a bowl. Tendrils of golden heat licked his milky skin, tracing faint lines of pink across his high cheekbones. The gentle sting was a comforting reminder of how alive he was. Each breath that filled his lungs with glorious air felt deeper and more satisfying than the last. The warm breeze that rolled across the fields ruffled his hair, but the sweet smell of Asgard clover tied over any annoyance. The demigod didn't even mind that his elegant boots were smeared with mud and that some species of butterfly seemed determined to perch itself on his spindly fingers._

_No, for once the trickster's heart was at ease. _

_He glanced up over the tall heads of the grass to see the top of two creamy ears flicker. There was a gentle rusting coming closer, accompanied by the wet breathing of an animal. A dark nose poked through the greenery in front of the demigod, nostrils dilated._

_"Hmmm, find me did you?" Loki chuckled, reaching forward to tap the twitching nose. _

_There was an indignant sort of snort and then a fuzzy face followed the nose out of the tall grass. Glistening green eyes widened and the young animal whinnied happily. _

_Loki suddenly found himself with an arm full of foal as the creature leapt out onto him. For a disorientating moment his vision was full of trampled grass and writhing horse. He felt the distinct pang in his side that could only be caused by a sharp little hoof and the pleasant smell of baby animal filled his nose. _

_"Oof, Slepnir!" the Silvertongue cried, finally twisting out from underneath the very young, but very heavy foal. "That is hardly polite!"_

_The eight legged baby stubbled to his feet, trying to coordinate four sets of ungainly limbs. He whinnied, bounding around his Aesir father cheekily, nipping at Loki's raven hair. _

_"Oh you are truly mischievous!" the man declared, but there was a heartfelt smile on his face. He reached out and caught the foal's neck in his arms, cradling Slepnir against his chest. "You obviously take after me."_

_It had only been a few short days since the prince had returned from his little adventure. It was not unusual for Loki to take off without telling anyone, to go exploring the nine realms, but he got the distinct impression upon his arrival home that a year without any word was pushing it. However any anger at his careless vanishing trick was squashed by the mingled surprise and horror when they saw the eight legged foal at his side. _

_Odin, ever the diplomat, had hastened to claim the foal as a project of his own. He declared that the strange animal was to be trained into a royal charger. It was all a ploy to stop the malicious gossip that would no doubt have followed. Loki was, after all, the "mother" so to speak, and the God of Mischief was disliked enough by the court without more incentive. _

_Loki didn't really care that his father denounced him as the progenitor. Slepnir was his, regardless of what Odin decreed. The unusual creature was obviously not as comfortable around the AllFather as he was with his true parent. If anyone looked close enough at the relationship between the prince and the bizarre foal they would undoubtedly notice that it was something more than simple affection._

_In the time since they had returned to Asgard, Loki had barely left the Royal Stables. His heart swelled with pride and unconditional love every time he thought about the young animal. It was a sensation that he had never experienced. People spoke of the bond between parent and child, but until now he had never fully grasped what that implied. It was a connection so strong it filled the demigod with light. The foal's happiness was his happiness, like they were joined by invisible strands. When he returned to the palace at night the ties stretched uncomfortably, heart tugging in his chest, wanting to sprint as fast as his legs could carry him back to the child. And in the morning, every step he took towards the stables lifted a pound of weight from his shoulders, until he was as light as the birds that soared overhead. _

_In all his life, Loki had never felt so needed. It was unbelievably fulfilling, in a way that defied his very nature. And he exulted in it. _

_"Mother thinks you're going to build you're own stable down here and join the child." _

_Loki stood quickly, placing a protective hand on Slepnir's flank. But the foal ignored the protective touch and bounded away from him, towards the familiar, hulking figure. _

_Thor lumbered awkwardly through the thick grass, laughing when he saw the eight legged foal leaping towards him. "Greetings young one!" he rumbled, ruffling Slepnir's fluffy mane. The foal wriggled with delight, then twisted away and sprinted back to his father. _

_"So, how's being a mother going?" Thor asked, grinning at his brother. _

_Loki sighed, straightening his jacket and running a hand through his untidy hair self-consciously. "Satisfying. Caring for a child is not as strenuous as women would have us believe."_

_Thor chuckled, standing beside the trickster. Their eyes followed Slepnir as he continued to explore the paddock. "I think you really got off lightly my brother. Caring for a foal is hardly as difficult as a fussy Aesir bairn! Slepnir looks positively healthy. I don't think he needs all that much attention from an overbearing parent."_

_Loki gave the taller demigod a sharp look, picking up on the carefully chosen sentence structure. It was obviously rehearsed. "Father told you to come here, didn't he?"_

_The thunderer flushed, caught out. "Well," he cleared his throat, "he is concerned about you. You have become very preoccupied with Slepnir, and while the AllFather encourages you to have a good relationship with your… Offspring, you do need to spend some time reestablishing yourself at court." He turned his vibrant blue eyes on the younger sibling. "You've been gone for a year Loki. Valhalla knows I was so relieved to see you home in one piece, but I've barely spoken to you since your return! Every waking hour you're down here, far from your family who loves you and wants to hear from you." _

_Loki shrugged dismissively. "I am with family down here though. Slepnir is part of our family now, as much as you, or our parents would like to pretend that isn't so." His emerald eyes got a misty look to them. "I know you miss me Thor, but I've spent millennia in your presence. Slepnir and I, though I have carried him for nine months, we are still only newly acquainted." he chuckled fondly, watching his inquisitive child blunder curiously after a small bird, "I want to spend every moment with him that I can. He is still so small, so young in this world of immortals."_

_Thor's brow furrowed. "I am frustrated to admit that I do not understand your connection." he raised an eyebrow at his brother. "You have never been overly affectionate, Loki. So forgive me if it takes me a while to accept this sudden, deep attraction. Especially to an unintelligible being."_

_Loki jerked at that, glaring venomously at the golden Prince. "An _animal_, you mean?" his voice was low, dangerously so. "Of course you wouldn't understand. You aren't a father. You can't even begin to comprehend what it is like to love someone more than yourself; to place their needs above your own."_

_Thor immediately adopted a kicked puppy expression. Guilt slumped his shoulders. "You are right to be annoyed with me Loki. I perhaps spoke too carelessly." He scratched the back of his head, one eyebrow crinkled, "I apologise."_

_The younger prince rolled his eyes. "Yes, perhaps you did judge Slepnir harshly." he sniffed, eyebrows raised arrogantly. "I suppose I can accept your expression of regret, but guard your tongue in the future."_

_The Thunderer clapped Loki on his back, giving the slight man a jolt. "My thanks, brother."_

_Across the field Slepnir whinnied to his two companions, carefree in the Asgard sun. _

*End Flashback*

* * *

Loki gripped a small, metal object tightly in his hand. His heart hammered uncomfortably in his chest, feeling like any second it was going to stutter to a stop. The muscle was in overdrive, and after months of tranquility it physically ached having it beat so hard. He breathed in deeply through his nose, forcing his body to calm. Suffering a heart attack at this specific point of time would be completely anti productive.

He looked down, unfurling his skeletal fingers to look again, with complete confusion at the key in his palm. The pronged stick was innocent enough, but wielded such power that Loki felt reverent of it. After all, it was the key to his cell door. With one simple twist it would grant him the freedom denied him for two excruciating years.

The forbidden item had been inserted into the peach. He didn't even notice until he bit into the golden flesh. Someone had been desperate enough to release him that they had bypassed all formalities. And that someone, according to the guard outside his cell, was a member of his adopted family. That trio was made smaller again by the slumber that had taken over the AllFather. The Odinsleep all but ruled out the Aesir king.

That left his overprotective brother and the anguished queen.

Loki knew immediately who it was. Thor, for all the love he claimed over the Silvertongue, wasn't desperate enough to defy their father. All the golden prince wanted was to unite their family, and sneaking the criminal his key to freedom was hardly going to help in that endeavour.

So it must have been Frigga.

Loki felt wretched, knowing that the last time he had seen the gentle hearted woman he had spat so much vile hatred at her. He had all but thrown her kindness back in her face, tainting it with bitter rage. And yet, despite his slights and his hurtful words, she was once again exposing herself to her monstrous son's revenge, willingly. The gift she offered him was more than forgiveness, it was pure, unconditional love.

_Why do you love me so?_ Loki directed his thoughts to his adoptive mother. _I would fight my way to the ends of the universe in the name of my own children - for they are my blood. But you, who are not bound by such ties, still battle against my hatred with unrelenting forgiveness. Every stab I inflict merely becomes more fuel for your adoration. Such selflessness, such…. Sentiment. _

Loki scrubbed at the dirt on his eyelids, tired and nonplussed. Dealing with such an unappealing ball of guilt and confusion wasn't productive, and so he shoved the unwelcome feelings deep inside him, to be sorted through later. Right now making use of this unanticipated gift was far more important.

He struggled into a kneeling position, leaning against the heavy metal door holding him hostage. Outside he could hear the bored pacing of the guards. They traversed the hallway in turn, crossing over then presumably trekking back the way they came. And Loki was sure, due to this pattern, that there was a blind spot for him to pass through.

Back at the initial stages of his isolation, the security measures placed around his cell were practically impenetrable. But as the months passed and he made no threat to escape Odin had lessened the watch to two guards. After all, without his powers how was Loki supposed to breach through several inches of steel?

_I only need to count their steps, and time this right. With any luck…. Not that the Goddess of Fortune has ever favoured me… But with even a small amount of serendipity I should be able to slip between the patrol._

He waited, ears pricked for the rise and fall in footsteps. It would have to be a split second thing. He couldn't break too fast, but even the slightest hesitation could be a pause too long.

Finally, after half a dozen rounds, Loki was sure that he had the timing right.

He breathed deeply, trying to control his breathing. His heart beat stuttered, picking up traces of long absent adrenaline in his system. Shaking, spindly fingers gently coaxed the point of his key into the lock.

The heavy clomp of footfalls grew loud outside his door, then began to fade as the guard passed by.

Loki grit his teeth and twisted the key, keenly aware of the sound of grating metal on metal. The heavy cell door swung open an inch with a rusty squeak. He froze, skin prickled, waiting for the inevitable shout of the guard and the heavy thump as they slammed the cage door shut again.

But it never came.

Loki tightened his fists in determination, shoved open the door the full way and bolted out into the gloomy hallway. He had the foresight to close the cell door behind him before slipping along the stone corridor into a patch of concealing shadow.

The trickster shuddered in a grove in the wall, flattening himself against the cold surface. His teeth were chattering from nerves and his abandoned body flared with pain from standing upright. Neglected joints shrieked from having moved so quickly.

_No time to stop. Ignore the pain. Run!_ his thoughts screamed in his mind.

The suffering demigod scampered through the maze of hallways, ears straining for the sound of pursuit. The labyrinth of the dungeons wound in a complex pattern, but after years of exploring the palace as a child he felt glimmerings of recognition. A door that stood out, a rusted hook on the wall, a broken stone in the patchwork on the floor - these all sparked his watered down memories.

In the end it was the promise of fresh air that lead him to the exit. The atmosphere in the prison ward was thick, heavy with wretchedness. The very oxygen particles seemed stained with foul despair. As he neared the end of the tunnels it felt physically easier to breathe; like every desperate gulp of air drew more energy inside him, so that he wasn't quite as light headed.

Then, he found it. A nondescript door that sent hope washing through him. Loki could never remember seeing this door - which looked exactly like every other he had passed, and there was no sign to indicate that his was the exit - but still the silver tongue knew.

His shaking hands fumbled with the handle, wringing it with sweat slick fingers. Finally the heavy bolt gave way and he flung himself up the flight of stairs beyond. By the time he reached the top of the significantly long ascent, Loki had forgotten all measures of caution. Without pause he flung himself out into the golden, light saturated space of the palace ground floor and breathed deeply the sweetest air that every graced his lungs. Sun deprived eyes winced at the sheer vibrance, but his pained pupils could not diminish the exhilaration that was now pumping through his veins.

That was until an ugly, angry voice shattered his triumph.

"Hey, you! Stop!"

Loki jumped at the voice, spinning around to see a massive shadow hurtling towards him. The demigod only had time to gasp, twisting to the side a fraction as metal flashed through the air. The sword bit into his side, sinking deep into the mass of tissue between the two bottom ribs. The pain was terrible, burning, cold. He could hear someone screaming, and vaguely Loki registered on some level that the loud cry was his own.

The guard made some horrified exclamation when he tugged the blade from the demigod's flesh. Scarlet blood sprayed across them both, bright against his ashen skin. The wet sucking sound the extracted weapon made was something akin to the squelch of splattered fruit. There was a hollow thud as Loki sank to his knees, doubling over, eyes glimmering with unshed tears. Despite his high tolerance to pain, the open wound rendered him momentarily paralysed.

"Oh god," he whispered, feeling his life pouring from his side in a constant stream of wetness. The front of his thin shirt quickly dampened, absorbing the freely running liquid greedily. He held one sopping hand up to his face, entranced by his red, saturated arm. "So much blood…" he whimpered, tasting iron on the back of his tongue.

The demigod curled against the wall, oblivious to the guard that now hovered anxiously by his side. There was a dull clang as the offending weapon was dropped to the ground, gleaming with ruby smears of the younger prince's blood.

"Here," the guard commanded, shoving his jacket at the wounded criminal, "apply pressure."

Loki grasped the thick fabric, wadding it against the gaping maw on his side. He sobbed once, wincing as he clamped it firmly to his side. The guard was clearly panicked. Even though Loki was an escaping prisoner, he was still the adopted son of the king. Hacking into such a high ranking person was probably not the protocol for such situations. Odin may not look favourably upon his captor, despite his noble intentions.

"How…" he drew in a sharp breath, trying to ignore the flare of pain, "How far away from the healers…"

The guard caught on and quickly responded. "Not to far… Can you walk?"

Loki grimaced. Standing was daunting, let alone walking. But it was either drag himself to the healing wing or die here from blood loss, watching his life force spill across the uneven paving stones. "I will try." he announced, mentally preparing himself for such an ordeal.

The guard reached down to help the demigod up, holding his body as far away from the slight man as possible. He may be worried about Loki, but the hatred of the condemned prince still ran deep. They shuffled awkwardly along the corridor, ruby liquid dripping between them.

Loki found once he stood that the wound wasn't as dire as he had first thought. Yes, he was loosing a dreadful amount of blood, but the incision itself would only need a few stitches to hold it together. The only muscle that had been severed was relatively superficial. By some small miracle no vital organs had been punctured.

_I have sown worse wounds back together before on my own body._ He thought numbly. _Perhaps then I'll get a chance to do it again. After all, if Odin ever taught me anything, it was not to waste a good opportunity._

It really was too easy for him to slump further against the guard, letting his arm slip lower until the handle of the man's dagger grazed his palm. One quick yank and he freed the small blade from his captor's belt, then sank it deftly through bulky armour into living flesh. The guard shouted out, perhaps more in surprise than pain, stumbling back from his attacker.

Loki only spared a brief glance at the wounded man before skittering down a narrow hallway as fast as his injuries would allow. He felt another surge of guilt at having harmed an innocent, but the warmth dribbling from his severed skin soon extinguished any inkling of regret. That small dagger only made it a few inches into muscle, and any pain the guard felt would fade within the week. Loki's impediment, on the other hand, may be the grain of rice that tipped the scales. Who knew how he was going to escape the palace with so much blood loss - let alone survive beyond that.

All he could do now was run blindly through these golden halls, until either exhaustion or escape found him. He knew not which would come first.

To be continued…

_Favourites are adored but reviews are CHERISHED! If I could make it to 100 reviews I'd be ecstatic! Your feedback honestly inspires me to write._

_- Rabbit xxx_


	8. Into the Wild

Hey all,

Sorry, since starting the new uni semester finding time to write has been next to impossible! I hope you can all forgive me.

This chapter is a bit of a filler… Kind of….

Regardless though I hope you like it! :D

* * *

CHAPTER 8

Loki stumbled through the hallways, toes catching on the marble floor. His hands reached out vainly for the support of the walls, bony fingers scrabbling on the slick, gold surface. The wound across his side gaped open as he ran and he could feel sluggish liquid oozing along his torso and down his legs. Small splatters of red followed him down the long corridors, smearing out a trail for those in pursuit. He felt his vulnerability like a presence beside him, mocking his helplessness in these echoing aisles. There was nowhere he could hide in this castle where they wouldn't find him.

The very thought of being dragged back to his cell sent a terror so acute through him that the demigod doubled over, hunching against a smooth wall. His panicked breathing sounded loud in his ears and he tried to slow his pants. The reflective floor shone Loki's face back at himself and he winced at the sight. His eyes were wide in their shadowed sockets and his hair, once so smooth and controlled now lay in warped strands over his prominent cheekbones. He looked feral, like a savage from the _wilds_.

A flicker of an idea warmed Loki's heart and he straightened up.

"Wilds… the Black Mountains… Perhaps?" his voice was thin in the cavernous hallways, frail but hopeful. His weakened heart began to beat a little stronger and the despair that weighed him down fell away. The glimmer of a plan began to form in his cunning mind and he took a purposeful step away from the wall. After another halting step forward Loki found that he was pelting once more through the palace. His unbound feet skimmed the floor, and in the mirrored surfaces of the building he could see his pale form flash by like lightning. Now that he had direction, nothing was going to get in his way.

The stables were still darkened by the gloom of early morning. The lithe form of the demigod flickered between the shadows, starling the horses out of their sleep. A few snorted in fear, catching the rusty scent of his blood in the air, but one leant forward and whickered in greeting.

"Slepnir," Loki cooed, reaching out to caress the stallion's quivering muzzle, "my son we have a long journey ahead."

The horse's black eyes blinked steadily, watching Loki as he fumbled with the big animal's saddle. He had managed to sneak back into his room and hastily pack a handful of clothes into a pouch, along with a book for casting spells, an assortment of food he pilfered from the kitchen and a thick blanket. A knife was already tied to his ankle and a bow slung across his ravaged shoulders. He had even managed to coax Jörmungandr from beneath his bed, and the serpent now lay curled at the bottom of his bag. His heart ached at the thought of leaving Fenrir behind, but the wolf was too hard to get to, and daybreak was upon them.

Finally the tricker's shaking fingers were able to secure the pack to Slepnir's saddle, and he hurled it onto the horse's back hastily. The buckles to secure it were stiff with disuse and he cursed the tough leather through gritted teeth. Outside the stable block he could hear people already walking about.

With a final tug the saddle was secured and he swung into it with a muffled grunt of pain. Slepnir shifted uneasily beneath him, the horse sensing his rider's agony. Loki placed a calming hand on the animal's massive shoulder, before directing him at the barred stable doors. The horse, trained to battle frost giants and raging monsters charged at the flimsy wooden barrier without hesitation and burst through into the courtyard beyond with ease.

People looked up as the gargantuan stallion reared, pawing at the guards already rushing towards the escaped convict. Loki clung to Slepnir's mane as the stallion leapt over a group of armed men and shot between two buildings. He leant forward, head ducking low to avoid signs and lampposts that rushed by. The clattering sound of Slepnir's hooves rang out loudly in the almost deserted streets and Loki wished fervently that he had magic to muffle the sound.

With only a few squeezes from his legs to guide his mount, both horse and rider quickly found themselves on the edge of the city, facing a great river that poured in from the sea. Whatever guards were in pursuit obviously hadn't been counting on his getting hold of a steed and were probably far behind them already.

Slepnir slowed from his mad gallop as they came up to the bridge, snorting nervously at the surging water below. He took a great step forward, and the thud of each hoof rang out hollowly beneath them. The great animal shied away from the sound and Loki cursed under his breath. The bridge itself was rarely used, and the pillars holding it together were eroded to the point that even the demigod felt nauseous. No wonder his mount was hesitant to step foot on the bridge.

Loki began to feel doubt creeping up on him. If they couldn't even make it over the western bridge out of the city, what chance did they have in the Black Mountains? Those forested ranges were impassable. Every child grew up hearing the stories of misfortunate travellers and hot headed heroes that were foolish enough to venture into it's green depths, never to return.

Heart heavy, Loki turned in the saddle and looked back at Asgard. The golden city glowed, spires of the palace arching up towards the lightening sky. The burnished surfaces shone brightly in the first rays of morning, chasing back the shadows of night. His heart was filled with a sudden flood of love for the city.

He grew up here. It was his home.

But then his gaze passed over the topmost windows of the palace and a cold hand squeezed his chest tightly. Thor's rooms were illuminated brightly, his brother's chambers sitting at the highest point in the area. The very thought of the golden man sent thrills of scarlet fury through the trickster. Rage mingled with an aching sadness tightened his throat and he turned away from the sight with a sharp jerk.

The bridge before him was a challenge yes, but one he had to get over. Loki swung out of the saddle and took a firm hold of Slepnir's reins. He looked into the dewy eyes of the horse, challenging the stallion to disobey him, before stepping out confidently onto the bridge. There was only a slight amount of resistance from the animal before he followed the demigod onto the unpredictable surface.

With every step across the unstable structure Loki's eyes prickled more and more with hot, unshed tears. By the time they made it to the other side, safe, great fat drops of salty liquid was running unchecked down his cheeks.

* * *

"My Lord!' a guard shouted, bursting into his rooms.

Thor looked up blearily, startled out of his sleep. The shape of the messenger wavered before him, sharpening as he focused on the distressed man.

"What is it? What news do you bring?" his command had a worried edge to it.

The guard panted slightly before gasping "The prisoner sir, he has escaped. You're br - I mean Loki Laufeyson. He's gone."

Thor was out of bed by the second word. As he dressed the messenger continued to describe the circumstances of the demigod's disappearance. When he had heard enough, the Asgardian Prince strode to the glass doors of his chambers, flinging them open and stepping out onto the balcony. His keen eyes scanned the city far below, but he knew the chances of spotting Loki were slim. From the sound of it the guards had no idea where the trickster was either.

_Where would he go? As long as his powers are repressed he can't teleport out of the realm._ Thor sighed heavily, slumping against the golden railing. _Brother why did you do this?_

Something made him look up to the horizon, along the city limits. Light bounced off the sea, sending rays dazzling along the water's surface. The river circling the city writhed through the land, glowing in the early morning sun. Thor looked beyond the ribbon of water, eyes falling on the black mountain ridges in the far distance.

His heart lurched slightly.

"No, Loki you wouldn't…" the demigod spun around to face the anxious messenger. "Send a patrol out immediately to the western paths. They are to keep their eyes on the ground, looking for signs of Slepnir. If Loki has passed across the border bridge into the wild lands, he will have left tracks."

The messenger nodded once then sprinted from his chambers.

Thor turned back to the view of the Asgardian landscape below. A weight had settled in his chest; the knowledge that his brother had fled pressing heavy against his heart. The idea that the demigod had chosen to take flight into the Dire Mountains was unsettling, not only because he had to chase him, but because the trickster obviously felt safer in such lost lands than under Thor's own protection inside the palace walls.

The prince wasn't stupid. He knew that Loki chose the forested wilderness because of it's reputation. He would have the advantage there, knowing it's mysterious nature better than any other being. In those shadowed valleys the liesmith would be able to conceal himself easily, merging into the landscape, as at home between those trees as the long horned deer. It was still a perilous hiding place, especially accompanied by the cumbersome Slepnir, but Thor had no doubts the Silvertongue could carve out a niche in some secret glade.

Immediately the thunderer knew that he couldn't do this on his own. Such an exercise was fraught with dangers he couldn't contend with single handedly. It was a treacherous task, and he wasn't ashamed to admit he needed help.

And he knew just where to find it.

* * *

Loki pushed Slepnir on, watchful for any signs of the animal tiring. In the past six hours they had made good progress, putting a good few leagues between themselves and the city.

The trickster guided his mount along a pathway he knew would avoid any dangers. It wasn't a straight line by any means. Instead of cutting directly across the forest towards the first ridge that made up the Dire Mountains, they wound through the landscape almost erratically. Loki veered slightly south, avoiding any water sources that attracted predators and keeping out of the foggy, low lying basins. He followed the local animal tracks, hoping to give Slepnir an easier path through the undergrowth. More than once they had to backtrack when the vegetation grew too dense to pass through. It had been years since he scouted the area and many of his old haunts were warped with new growth.

As they travelled Loki kept one hand firmly pressed to his lacerated side. Every step Slepnir took sent a shockwave of pain up his spine, until after an hour the demigod acclimatised to the pangs. They continued on; Loki half delirious with blood loss and unpleasantly aware of the numbness creeping across the lower half of his body. He only buckled under the strain once the sun had moved passed it's zenith.

The exhausted demigod slumped forward, sprawling across Slepnir's neck. The great horse glided to a stop, moving off the track to rest beneath an ancient tree. Loki murmured incoherent praise to his mount before slipping off, having to grab onto the saddle to keep him from completely collapsing. He fumbled with the saddlebags, eyes half shut. It was an immense relief when the fastenings came free easily and he felt around blindly inside for the small medical kit.

Loki flopped onto the ground, wedged between two thick roots. He breathed deeply for a few minutes, trying to muster back some of his dissipated energy. The bark of the tree was rough, but it still felt like heaven to lean back against something solid.

As he undressed, Slepnir remained alert, scanning their surroundings for any sign of danger. Loki was flooded with pride for his son. The Asgardians could prattle on all they wanted about the limited thought capacity of animals, but he knew their true potential. His own offspring was a prime example of just how intelligent speechless creatures could be.

The demigod turned his attention away from his vigilant companion and looked down at his naked torso. Streams of blood had dried in intricate patterns across his chalky skin. They looked like veins in the dampened light. Loki winced when he inspected the mass of congealed red clamped to his lower rib cage. The wound wasn't too big, but he had bled enough to be toeing the line of insensate. A small trail of blood still spilt sluggishly from the laceration, fat droplets splattering onto the green grass. Because of the location of the incision the skin had curled back, taught against the bones beneath. The sensitive flesh was mottled purple with bruising that would only grow more pronounced in the days to come.

Loki sighed, daunted at the task before him. He opened the medical kit and rummaged around in it for a spool of woollen thread and a fine needle. His trembling fingers calmed, ever steady when he most needed it. They were sorcerers hands, used to the intricate precision that came with the occupation. Loki wet the soft thread with his tongue and slipped the end through the eye of the needle. It passed through easily, and he ran a decent length out from the spool before cutting it deftly.

Holding the flaps of his ruined skin together, the demigod took a deep breath and lined up the needle accordingly. He knew that when he finished stitching, there would be no time to rest. They had to keep moving, lest they were found. It would be heartbreaking to be dragged back to that metal box so soon after he had tasted freedom.

* * *

Thor shifted from foot to foot, looking nervously around him at the shocked expressions of his friends. The Avengers, who had doubled in members over the past eighteen months, were scattered over the living room. Each had paused in their ministrations when Thor appeared suddenly and declared that he had something important to say. During his speech though, the group of superheroes turned grim when the full impact of the situation hit them.

The demigod gave them a brief run down of Loki's imprisonment, censoring the worst aspects of it, but emphasised the fact that Asgard hadn't been light when dolling out the punishments. He didn't want the Avenger's to think that his brother had gotten away lightly with anything. However, upon mentioning the God of Mischief's escape, there was a distinct feeling of despair and frustration among the original team.

"He got away?" Hawkeye blurted, loosing the calm facade he normally retained. "How could they let him escape!?"

Thor sighed, running a hand through his hair. "My brother is… Well he is skilled at slipping out of tight spots. However I truly have no idea how he was able to break out of Asgard's most secure prison facility. Other than a single, unconscious guard there was no sign of a struggle. The latch on his cell door wasn't forced either."

"Aren't we forgetting that Loki is a magical mastermind? Surely his powers assisted him in this escape somehow." Black Widow spoke up.

Thor shook his head. "He has been all but stripped of his magic. A set of enchanted bands have been cuffed to his wrists, damping his powers so much that he can't even perform the most basic of spells."

"Maybe he was trying to fool you." Falcon, a new member of the team spoke up, "If he is the God of Lies then surely it isn't beyond his capacity to act beaten. Perhaps he was waiting for the right moment to escape, when the AllFather was unaware."

Thor shook his head. "No, it hasn't been a trick. Loki was… He has been wounded for some time now. And though he is spirited enough to endure pain, I doubt even he could put up with so much agony for so long." he paused, then continued. "Many of you have not met my brother, but those who have understand that his pride is his greatest asset. Even defeated he refuses to show any weakness."

"That's true." Steve Rodgers agreed, nodding. "I thought that if Loki were to crack at any time it would be when he realised the Chitauri had been destroyed. But even when he had no where to run, he kept his cool."

The demigod sighed. "Yes, Loki is a master at controlling his emotions. Even as a child he was so wary about letting people get near him." Thor took a deep breath and tried to repress the heartache radiating through his chest. "So you have to understand that when I say my brother broke down and cried for months when he was locked away in solitary, that is a testament in itself. If he had a shred of power left he would have used that to escape, rather than be seen in such a state. Before they took him away, he all but begged me to hand him over to the Order to be executed, rather than be sealed away in silence."

He saw some of the Avenger's baulk at that. The notion that Loki was capable of fear hadn't occurred to many of them.

"So why do you need us to help you find him?" Banner asked, voice perpetually calm. "Because I dunno about the rest of you, but chasing after a powerless, wounded demigod bordering on psychotic doesn't sound very challenging."

Thor shook his head. "Even without access to his powers Loki is still a threat. Retrieving him before he finds a way to break those cuffs is crucial. The moment he is able to portal out of Asgard we will have lost him, and next time he decides to mount a full scale attack on a realm, he won't underestimate us. We scraped through last time, but if he comes in for round two I'm not sure if we will be so lucky."

The group of humans glanced at each other nervously. Even those who didn't face Loki in the battle against the Chitauri knew that the demigod was a formidable foe.

Thor continued, pennant in his appeal. "I need help from you because he knows how I think. If I try to track him by myself, Loki will no doubt lead me on a never ending goose chase. He is sly, being wounded and weakened won't change that. If I have even a small group on his tail of people he doesn't know inside out, the chances of finding him will be a lot higher."

"Stark," Thor turned to the up until now, quiet genius, "what are your thoughts?" The thunder god knew that if Iron Man approved this mission, others would follow.

Tony raised a single eyebrow. "My thoughts? On travelling to an unknown land chasing wildly after a man who singlehandedly destroyed Manhattan and is responsible for the murder of thousands of people?" he huffed slightly, rolling his eyes, "Point Break you had me at 'Loki's gone missing,' but seriously, nothing is getting in my way if I get to portal to another galaxy entirely." he leant forward, fingers splayed together, "My only question is when do we start?"

Thor shrugged. "Now. I plan on going back to Asgard tomorrow with or without you. I can't risk Loki getting too far ahead."

"Great, uh Jarvis install the solar panels onto my suit." Tony said, standing abruptly. He paused, lips quirked, "You do have a sun where you come from Thunder head?"

Thor grinned "Yes, Son of Stark, we have a sun."

"That's a relief," Tony mused, already walking towards him room, "because I doubt I have a power adaptor for where we're going."

To be continued….

* * *

Thanks for reading! Favouites and Reviews are always appreciated :)

- Rabbit xxx


	9. Roses in the Dark

Wow…. I honestly didn't realize how long it had been since my last update. I am SUCH a bad person! I'm so so so sorry to all of those who are enjoying this story, awaiting and update.

Uni work has piled up suddenly and I'm flailing/drowning in it. Curse animation for being so time consuming!

Anyway, I hope this chapter finds you all well and I'm sure that the gap between the next update wont be so lengthy.

Enjoy!

* * *

CHAPTER 9

"And you're sure we won't spontaneously combust? Our atoms won't be scrambled into mortal smoothie?" Tony questioned, shivering in the cold, pre-dawn air.

Thor scratched his head, one eyebrow crinkled in thought. "I do not think so Son of Stark." he shrugged nonchalantly. "Loki really was far more informed about the effects of the bifrost." The thunderer held out his hands to Steve on his left and Natasha on his right. "It is improbable that any significant damage should happen to you. I'm sure Heimdall would have mentioned it otherwise."

The group of humans glanced at each other nervously, not at all comforted by the demigod's words. They reluctantly joined hands, forming a connected circle.

"Are you sure you got a lid on it?" Steve asked, looking directly at Banner.

The scientist nodded, taking deliberate, even breaths. "I gave myself a shot to regulate my pulse, and I'm as mentally prepared for this as I could ever be."

Thor smiled encouragingly. "Hold on to each other tightly. I am told that beings unused to space travel may find it a bit jarring. I would rather not loose any of you along the way."

"Great." Hawkeye muttered, gripping tighter to Black Widow and Bruce. "If either of you lets go of me I will personally plant an arrow in your eye socket."

"I doubt it." Stark muttered, his calm mask slipping in anticipation. "You'd be dead."

And with that last, unsettling remark, the five mortals and the demigod were sucked up in a blur of rainbow light and hurtled away, past the far reaches of their galaxy.

As they travelled Steve had to remind himself that this wasn't some bizarre dream. The saturated light around him was so intense he felt cheated by the colours on earth. Whole constellations he knew flashed by in seconds and in the blink of an eye they had already left their humble Milky Way. Time seemed almost suspended as they travelled, each second slowing down just enough for him to appreciate what he was looking at. The sights before his humble eyes were places never seen before by humans, beyond even the feeble reach of their most advanced telescope. The sheer size of space was daunting, overwhelming in it's magnificence.

He idly contemplated how unfair it was that humans were gifted with such a short life time - it would take thousands of years to explore such a vast dimension. He couldn't even begin to imagine all the phenomenal worlds unexplored by their people, worlds they would probably never have the chance to set foot on. If the Asguardians, who had thousands of years beneath their belts, still hadn't discovered all the life forms in this universe, then what chance did a human who only had a good sixty years before old age slammed down?

Across from the Captain, Bruce Banner was thinking the same thing. As a scientist his natural curiosity drowned out any fear he felt while being flung across Yggdrasil.

Stark, ever the mathematician was similarly contemplating how to reproduce the vacuum they were being sucked through, unparalleled intellect struggling to determine the amount of energy needed to perform such a feat.

Clint and Natasha, on the other hand, were more focused on holding tight to the people next to them and keeping their heads despite the insanity of their mission.

Then, suddenly they were in Asgard.

The five mortals felt as though they had been slammed down by a giant fist, hurled without warning onto a hard, multicoloured platform. None of them landed on their feet, but lay sprawled on the strange piece of architecture, breathing heavily.

After a panicked pause, Clint, Tony and Bruce promptly coughed up whatever was in their stomachs. Retching may have been unpleasant, but all of them were relieved to be otherwise in one piece. Black Widow slumped back, gripping her stomach and trying to breathe deeply through pangs of nausea. Steve, more immune to the disorientating travel, checked on each of them in turn.

Thor grinned sheepishly as his companions slowly struggled to their feet.

"I told you it would be fine." he announced cheerfully. "A little ale and you'll all be back in good spirits!"

Tony, still looking a little green around the edges hiccuped at the thought of putting anything in his churning stomach. "I'm gonna have to call a rain check on that one big fella." he groaned, then belched in an ungentlemanly manner. "I never thought I'd say this, but no alcohol. Not until I can look at you without seeing two heads."

The others murmured in agreement.

Thor only roared with laughter at their pale faces, then gestured grandly at the city before them. "I am sorry for your discomfort, but regardless, welcome, my friends to Asgard."

The five human, who until then had been preoccupied, looked in unison towards the great towers of gold in the distance. It was a surreal moment, a life changing experience, looking upon the exotic city for the first time. Despite Thor's proud boasts, no words could have prepared them for the intense beauty before their eyes.

* * *

Loki shuddered in the shadow of a fallen tree. He pressed his body into the comforting side of Slepnir, who curled around him protectively. Warmth from the great horse permitted the air, but still the demigod shivered. His fingers grew steadily stiff with cold, making it difficult to grip the mane of his child. Slepnir nudged him gently beneath the arm, a small whicker working up his throat. Loki managed a smile, leaning his head against the horse's neck. Slepnir's breath tickled his cheek, caressing the cold skin with the warm, sweet, air.

The sun finally slipped behind the mountains and the three companions immediately felt the clutch of night around them. Wrapped around Loki's stomach, Jörmungandr recoiled at the temperature drop. The cold blooded snake didn't thrive well in the chilled air and sought out the warmth of his father's body. Loki felt the reptile's discomfort and stroked him beneath the cloak reassuringly.

"We'll find somewhere to settle soon my children." his breath puffed from his lips in pale wisps. "I promise this won't be all we have."

As of yet it was too risky to light a fire. The trickster doubted the Aesir troops would even know where to start looking, but there was still the chance of campfire smoke being spotted.

Loki was sure that he was safe in the Black Mountains. No one ventured here, not even his brother. Only the God of Mischief had ventured into the gloomy forests, and it wasn't out of curiosity, but for refuge.

As a child Loki and Thor were chalk and cheese. Thor exulted in warrior coaching, spending all his waking hours training for the wars he knew he would one day fight. For the thunderer's eight birthday he was gifted with a sword, then a mace, and eventually, on his sixteenth, Mjölnir. Conversely, each year Loki was given another spell book, or a selection of herbs from another realm. The Yuletide that someone finally thought to gift the skinny, dark haired boy with a weapon, it was a bow, which until now had sat lay under a thick layer of dust beneath his bed. Loki didn't try to pretend to fit in.

Needless to say, while Thor was praised by his peers for being brave and showing great skill in battle, Loki was shunned for being small and timid. His elder brother was vigilant in his duty to protect the younger sibling, but Thor couldn't be with him all the time. The other court children loathed the boy for being different, which was only bolstered by their jealousy. Loki may have been sickly in appearance, but his prowess with magic surpassed people his own age and older. That made him a firm target for bullies.

Loki endured taunts and beatings from the children enough to leave him with a bruised ego, but more often than not he was able to dodge their attacks, hiding in the fringes of the Dire Mountain forest. The other children baulked at the idea of stepping foot between the twisted trees, childhood stories sending them reeling back from the dark depths. Loki, however, had no qualms with the eery place.

He felt at home in the shadowed glades. The creeping, glaucous moss that carpeted the floor was akin to a spongy blanket. The crystal clear streams of water that trickled along smooth stones was only water to wet his parched throat. Any animals, though timid, had grown accustomed to his presence and didn't flee at his approach. The sorcerer child was smart enough not to eat the red berries, looking out instead the smaller, yellow fruits.

He knew to hold his breath when a blue mist slunk across the ground, all too aware of it's hallucinogenic effects. He avoided the trees with the silver trunks, identifying them not as plants, but predators. Their snake like roots squirmed through the soft clay, seeking, always seeking warm flesh to harvest. And when the danger lilies closed their petals or the green throated larks went silent, Loki knew to keep low and become one with the landscape, lest he be devoured by a Star Wolf.

However, even though this area of the forest was as familiar as the back of his hand, the demigod knew that the wilderness changed drastically as soon as he hit the foot of the mountains. The gentle, undulating hills he was camped in now were relatively tame. People didn't venture into them, but anyone who knew the dangers could get by without much hassle.

And yet, the plant species altered drastically as the altitude climbed and the animals he had grown up around merged into new breeds that possessed a different array of threats. Over the span of Loki's life he had made numerous trips deeper into the unexplored land, mapping out ridges and valleys where no intelligent soul had set foot. Each foray into the unknown had been a new experience, the trickster stumbling across ancient, undisturbed ecosystems that tested his survival skills. Though Loki rose to meet the challenges and continued to return home, triumphant and made wiser by his journey, he was also burdened with the scars of many close encounters.

It never ceased to surprise him that he had managed to escape the clutches of the mountain, but at the same time the rush that came with it drove him back again and again over the centuries.

This time though, was completely different.

For one, he was totally unprepared. The meagre supplies he had scrounged for in his haste to escape the city limits would last him a week at best. On top of that he has physically unfit. Two years of being undernourished and allowed little exercise had left him vulnerable. He knew that if it came down to a brute strength battle with a predator, he was going to loose.

But worst of all, he was cut off from his magic. It was the simple things like being able to snap his fingers and make fire, or turn invisible in the presence of danger that had given him the edge he needed. Being able to store things away in a virtual bank meant he could travel without carrying baggage. Sensing water, luring prey into his traps, having blades that never dulled, those were the essentials the demigod needed to survive. And his magic was the key to unlocking them all.

It would have been unbelievably simpler to remain where he was. Here he could scrape together a living, possibly even without his powers. But Loki knew he couldn't dwell inn these outer fringes. The relatively placid foothills were no protection for an interstellar criminal. With a decent tracking spell and a mediocre rag tag team of guards the Aesir prince would find him, undoubtedly. The tricksters only hope was to forge ahead deeper into the perilous landscape, and pray to whatever Gods still favoured him that his brother wasn't brave, or foolish enough to venture after such a loose end.

* * *

"Oh, mmmmm, I've died and gone to heaven!" Tony cried, taking another swing of the sugar-spice wine. "Thor, if we somehow manage to survive the wrath of your brother a third time, I'm emptying your cellars of this brew and taking it home to Earth!"

Thor laughed along with the engineer, clinking their glasses jovially. "Aye, it is a marvellous is it not!?"

Natasha rolled her eyes, nibbling hesitantly on a piece of unleavened honey bread. It was so soft against her lips she was reminded of being a child, at a fair, a fist full of fairy floss and sweetness melting on her tongue.

Steve, opposite her, was picking at a bowl of diced fruit. The vibrant coloured flesh glowed in the golden bowl, glistening in the brightly lit room. The captain marvelled with each mouthful. It seemed that modern day fruits were descended somehow from Aesir species, perhaps the gods had planted their crops on Earth to share with primitive humans? However he was pleasantly surprised to discover that the harvest in foreign realm provided a far greater range of complexities on the palette.

Steve speared a particularly delicious hunk of peach and pressed it into his mouth eagerly. A small line of juice ran down his chin and he flushed, embarrassed.

"Oops! This peach is so juicy, it's unbelievable!" he remarked happily, but was puzzled to see a dark expression shadow Thor's face at the mention of the fruit. He was immediately curious as to what had upset the demigod so, but let it slide rather than risk upsetting the emotional man.

"So, when do we get a tour of the city?" Tony asked, enthusiastic to learn more about this new world.

But Hawkeye shook his head. "We don't have time for a tour. Every second we waste in this palace Loki's trail grows colder."

"I have to agree with our archer," Thor joined, waving a meaty bone with one hand, "my brother is probably nearing the foothills of the Dire Mountains as we speak."

Bruce, very quiet since they arrived spoke up, "I'd rather think first about what we are going to need for this little excursion."

Thor raised one eyebrow, chewing thoughtfully. "Hmmm… Usually I'd suggest a map."

"What do you mean _usually_?" Natasha probed, plucking a grape delicately from her plate.

Thor shrugged good naturally. "Well, because there are no maps of the wild lands, only stories and rhymes about the perils we may face. The only person known to venture into such unchartered territory and return in one piece, his wits intact was my brother."

"_Wits intact_? Might want to rethink that Thunder Boy." Tony teased.

Thor brushed off the slight towards his sibling. "Well regardless, if anyone were to have a map of the Dire Mountains it would have been Loki. Presently then such a document is not available to us."

"What do you mean? Surely we could search his room, perhaps he has a diary that would help. We're bound to find something!" Steve countered stubbornly.

Thor's expression turned sad. "Nay my friends. Since the day my brother faked his death and fled our realm his chambers have been impenetrable to all but him. The doors, now sealed, will open for no one. Not even me."

There was a tense pause in which each of the Avengers glanced around the table at each other.

"So we're on our own then?" Barton denounced.

"Aye." Thor confirmed, voice heavy, "That we are."

* * *

_"Thor? Thor I'm lost! Please brother, find me!"_

_The Thunderer flinched at the panicked sound of his siblings cries, whirling around in the dense forest, trying to spot the source. _

_"Loki! Little brother!"_

_He saw a thin track leading through a thicket of dense brambles and stumbled towards it. The spindly plants grew over his head like a roof, dampening the thin moonlight. Beams of watery light illuminated small patches of the track ahead, twisting like a ribbon through the thorny mass. _

_"Thor! Save me!" the anguished shriek sent thrills of horror through the Aesir prince. He pushed along the tunnel-like pathway, which shrunk in size with every step. Roses began to bloom beside him, silvery in the starlight. Their soft centres released a gentle scent._

_"They're coming to get me!" Loki screamed, "I can see them!" _

_Thor sprinted along the winding track, feeling the clutch of clawed twigs snatching at his clothes. Brittle branches snapped as he swung his blade, severed petals falling like snow. The crushed flowers smelt strong, but not enough to hide the tang of blood permeating the air. The perfume of it was enough to make the Thunderer gag. _

_"Where are you!?" Loki's voice continued to cry, "You promised me you'd never let them hurt me!"_

_"No!" Thor bellowed, struggling through the claustrophobic tunnel. Soft, blue mist seeped around his feet, slithering up his legs in tendrils. "Loki hang on! I'm almost there!" _

_The mist was all around him now, blurring the spiderweb lacing of thorns, masking the wilting roses. It cloyed up his nose, making it hard to breathe. The sound of Loki's screams were loud in his ears, clashing with the thudding of his heart. He gasped once, trying to draw oxygen in through the thick air. Limbs heavy with muscle suddenly turned weak and his strong legs gave out. _

_"Brother," Thor croaked, clawing at the dirt, twisting his fingers through lifeless petals, "I'm sorry…"_

_Far away Loki's wails were abruptly cut off._

* * *

"No!" Thor screamed, wrenching himself out of sleep. He clawed at the sheets twisted around him, ripping the damp fabric in a frantic bid to escape it's grip. "No I promised! I said I'd never… I'd never…" he broke off into sobs, clutching his head in his hands. Each ragged breath was loud in his room, echoing in the dark.

The dream had been too real. The panic that has entrapped the Prince within his mind was still sending jolts of adrenaline through him now. Thor felt as though he could still feel the sharp scratch of thorns across his skin, hear the desperate cries of his brother.

"It's just a nightmare…" he whispered to himself. "Loki is safe, he is in Asgard. He knows those forests better than anyone. No harm could come to him. And once I find him, I will be able to return him home. And I'll keep my promise. I'll keep him safe."

The demigod breathed deeply, trying to quell the anguish tearing at his heart. His sobs quietened until he was still once more.

But still there was the faint scent of roses, lingering in the air.

* * *

_To be continued….._

_Favs and Reviews are ALWAYS appreciated. Thanks for reading!_


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