Actions

Work Header

Harsh World Unyielding

Summary:

Post-Avengers. Odin strips Loki of his power and immortality and sends him off to Midgard, where SHIELD decides to toss the former god into a human prison with human criminals.

Naturally this isn't very fun for Loki.

**On hiatus. Not sure when I'll get back to it.**

Notes:

This is my first multi-chapter fic. I noticed that I wasn't finding any fics about Loki being sent to a human prison as punishment for his crimes in Avengers, so I decided to write one myself. Hope you all like. Please comment with thoughts and suggestions - I have the story mapped out to a certain point, but beyond that, I would definitely appreciate pointers for which direction I might take things in.

Tags will be updated as I write, so please check those regularly to be sure you avoid triggers as needed.

I own nothing. Everything belongs to Marvel.

Updates will be pretty slow. I'm sorry :(
Hope you stick with me anyway.

Chapter 1: Return

Chapter Text

Winds swept around him as his feet impacted with the ground, making contact with the rainbow bridge for the first time in many months. Had it not been for the great ordeal he had undergone since falling from the Bifrost, Loki would hardly have known it had been such a long time since he’d last set foot on Asgard. Everything felt so familiar: the strange sensation of arriving in a new world, the sight of Heimdall and his omniscient eye watching over the entrance to the realm, the bright light of the city shimmering in the distance. These were all things he had commonly experienced growing up. Despite the horrendous cycle of fervent efforts and subsequent failures that had represented his childhood, there was still some comfort in observing these well-known images once again.

The comfort did not last long though, as the cold clank of the manacles binding his wrists forced him to snap back to a grim reality. He tried to growl in frustration and fury at his confined state, but this too reminded him of his restraints. The metal muzzle around his mouth not only immobilized his jaw, but its durable material also suppressed any sound he might have desired to make.

Unable to express his thoughts audibly, he settled for twisting his features into a scowl. Then at least the ridiculous inhabitants of this Nornsforsaken planet will not be able to accuse me of weakness, he thought to himself. It satisfied him to hold on to at least the smallest semblance of control. Especially given the fact that the tight grip of Thor’s hand around his bicep virtually eliminated any other opportunities for personal autonomy.

He stepped forward unwillingly as his brother (No, not my brother! Just Thor! he reminded himself vigorously) pulled him toward Asgard’s guardian.

“Greetings, My Prince,” said Heimdall, bowing respectfully before the future ruler of the realm. “It pleases me to see you have arrived home safely.”

“Thank you, Heimdall,” returned Thor, glancing over at his captive. “I must admit there were times when I feared the Chitauri would overpower us… but the competence of my team members is incontrovertible. With this victory I now have faith that we can meet the challenges for which S.H.I.E.L.D. will call upon us in the future.”

“Indeed,” agreed the gatekeeper, a flash of light gleaming off the metal of his golden helmet as he nodded his concurrence. “You have fought most valiantly. Had Midgard fallen, the humans would have faced an existence tantamount to enslavement.”

“Aye, I fear that’s what my brother aimed to achieve.” Thor responded. “Defeat was never an outcome we could accept.”

Loki cast a livid look at Thor, enraged at being referred to fraternally, but was met with a surprise when his eyes landed on the elder’s face. He would have expected Thor to be furious with him - such a sentiment would certainly be justified, given his past efforts to destroy everything that Thor held dear - but it was not ire that he saw the prince’s face. There was only sadness lining every corner of his pupils, continuing into the dark shadows beneath his eyes. Thor looked tired. But not in a physical manner - he appeared resigned, as though he had lost hope in something important to him, something in which he would rather have interminably maintained faith.

Surely it can’t be me, thought Loki bitterly. All hope was lost for me long ago, especially in the eyes of my family.

“Come, Loki,” said Thor, his fatigued countenance taking on an aura of determination befitting one who has a duty to fulfill. “Father is waiting.” (Loki’s anger flared once again at this reference to the Allfather.) “Heimdall.” Thor nodded toward Asgard’s protector.

“My prince,” said Heimdall, bowing once again.

I will never bow to Thor, Loki thought fiercely to himself. Neither to him nor to Odin, that miserable excuse for a King…

But as they moved swiftly toward the palace, Loki, despite his potent resolve to rebel, couldn’t quite quell the nagging feeling inside of him that he ultimately might not have a choice.

*****
There was a dull murmur of voices as they approached the palace, which grew steadily louder the closer they drew. By the time they reached the door of the throne room, which would serve as the hall of judgment, the noise had reached an unbearable level. Loki felt a strong desire to cover his ears that he might shut out the damnable annoyance of shouts, jeers, laughs, and whatever other detestable utterances were finding their way out of the mouths of the Aesir, but Loki would never give them that satisfaction.

He knew they would love nothing more than to see that their actions bothered the Frost Giant freak. The Jotun monster. The outcast prince who had never really fit in among them, despite his possession of what should have been a respected rank.

All his life they had hated him, but they couldn’t truly torment him due to his superior title.

Now he was a criminal.

And they had every right to taunt him.

He knew they wanted him broken, kneeling, begging for mercy. They wanted to see him submit not only to Odin and Thor, but to themselves, like a slobbering, sniveling dog.

No, he would never let them see his true feelings. He would maintain his mask of fury and rebellion and pride, no matter what insults and degradations they tried to throw at him. He may not have freedom of movement or control over the punishment Odin would soon give him, but he could at least maintain his composure. They would never take that from him.

Never.

*****
A short time later, he found himself in the middle of the throne room, with Sif at his left arm and Fandral at his right. Hogun and Volstagg stood on either side of the hall doors, as if to prevent an escape attempt should he manage to free himself from the slightly less formidable grasps of his current guards.

He’d expected Thor to remain at his side - the miserable fool undoubtedly fostered some ridiculously misguided belief that he could protect his brother from Odin’s wrath - but the crown prince of Asgard was instead standing atop the steps leading to the throne, upon which sat the Allfather, his face wearing a look that promised no mercy for the traitor before him. Loki felt a cold dread at this, but he masked it well, his own face betraying no emotion.

The same could not be said for Thor, who was trying but failing to hide the expression of sick worry that permeated his features, and Frigga, who was sitting beside Odin, looking as though she might cry at any minute.

Loki did experience a momentary pang of guilt over this; he’d always harbored a soft spot for Frigga that he had never felt for any of the other Aesir, not even for Thor when they’d both been young and the weight of Thor’s recognized superiority had not yet come crashing down on him. The sudden unwanted sense of sentimentality almost cracked the carefully crafted façade he had created, but he caught himself not a moment too soon and looked away. He heard Frigga call out to him, but it was barely audible amidst the excited din that filled the room, so he pretended not to hear. He couldn’t afford to break his composure right now.

And a moment later that decision proved to be a good one, as Odin raised his hand and the hall quieted.

The time for his trial had arrived.