The Verdict

The sound of Loki's heavy boots and the clinking of his chains echoed through the throne room as he made his way to the front, where Odin sat wearing his golden armor, a look of disappointment on his wizened face.

"Loki." Frigga stood anxiously at the base of the dais.

"Hello, Mother." Loki looked to her, his thick iron collar around his neck, hands bound together in front of him, "Have I made you proud?"

"Please, don't make this worse." She spoke to him softly, wringing her hands.

"Define 'worse'." He bit back, anger and impatience in is tone.

"Enough!" Odin's booming voice echoed through the room. "I will speak to the prisoner alone."

Frigga gave Loki one last wistful look before turning and leaving the throne room through a side exit.

Loki looked up to Odin as he took two slow steps toward the throne before bringing his heels together with a loud clang. He stood up tall and proud before a burst of laughter escaped him.

"I really don't see what all the fuss is about." He splayed his hands out as best he could.

"Do you not truly feel the gravity of your crimes?" Odin looked down at him, "Wherever you go, there is war, ruin, and death."

Loki smirked, "I went down to Midgard to rule the people of Earth as a benevolent God. Just like you."

"We are not Gods. We are born, we live, we die. Just as humans do."

"Give or take five thousand years." He shrugged.

"All this because Loki desires a throne."

"It is my birthright!"

"Your birthright," Odin shouted, "was to die as a child!" Loki sneered at Odin as he leaned forward on his throne, "Cast out onto a frozen rock. If I had not taken you in, you would not be here now to hate me."

Loki impatiently took another step forward, the Einherjar tightened the chains in response, "If I am for the axe, then for mercy's sake, just swing it. It's not that I don't love our little talks, it's just... I don't love them." He looked to Odin.

"Frigga is the only reason you're still alive, and you will never see her again. You will spend the rest of your days in the dungeons."

The Einherjar pulled his chains, dragging him backwards as Loki stared up to Odin in shock and disbelief.

Blinking back tears, "And what of Thor? You will make that witless oaf king while I rot in chains."

"Thor must strive to undo the damage you have done. He will bring order to the Nine Realms and then, yes..." the guards grabbed Loki by his shoulders. "He will be king."

He felt like all the air had been forced from his body. This cannot be happening. Loki's mind was a jumble of thoughts as he was led deep beneath the palace to the dungeons below. As he was unchained and tossed into a cell, he felt the oppressive weight of tons of rock, stone, marble, and gold above him.

He could not breathe.

"No!" He yelled as the electric barrier went up. "No..." he sunk to his knees on the floor.

oOXOo

'If you fail, if the Tesseract is kept from us, there will be no Realm, no barren moon, no crevice where he cannot find you! You think you know pain? He will make you long for something as sweet as pain!'

Loki bolted upright out of bed, a sheen of sweat covering his body. He tried to catch his breath and banish the voice of The Other from his mind. Getting his bearings, he swung his legs over the small cot. His bare feet touched the cold floor and sent a chill through his body. His sheets were soaked with sweat despite the cool air in his cell and his one thin blanket.

He stood and poured himself a cup of water, drinking it down in hurried gulps. Frustration shot through him as he went to pour another cup, but only a thin dribble of water came out.

"Guard, I need more water." Loki shook his empty pitcher at one of the guards stationed at the end of his cell block.

"In the morning, inmate. You know the rules."

"This is absurd. It is just water."

"You will get a fresh one with breakfast. Back to bed, inmate."

Loki scoffed and slammed his empty metal pitcher to the hard floor with a loud clang that reverberated through the empty halls. Shouts of anger and annoyance came from the other prisoners as the clatter disturbed their sleep.

It had been over a year since Thor had dragged Loki back to Asgard. Over a year of the same meals day in and day out. Over a year with no visitors aside from Frigga, who could only project herself there, lest she defy Odin's command that she not set foot in the dungeon. Over a year since he has seen the sky, heard music, smelled the sweet perfume of a beautiful woman.

Over a year waking from the same nightmare night after night. Anger and frustration were driving him mad. Loki sat heavily on his cot as a long and primal scream erupted from deep within him.

Threats and insults flooded the halls as the other inmates made their displeasure of being awoken in the middle of the night known.

"Silence!" The main guard in charge of the night shift came down the hall brandishing his spear and pointing menacingly in Loki's direction. "Keep it down, inmate, or we might just forget to feed you for a few days."

"Please, do not do me any favors." Loki rolled his eyes and sat back on his bed. "The slop you pass off as food is most likely doing me more harm than good."

"It is more than you deserve. Not another word out of you, if you know what is good for you."

Loki scoffed but did not retort. He simply waved the guard away with a dismissive motion of his hand. He had it better than the rest of the prisoners. Frigga had seen to it that he had a few extra items in his cell that the others did not have, but it was still a miserable existence. He had no privacy; he had to wash and relieve himself in the same room he slept and ate in.

Odin was wise to suppress his magic, to fit him with the cuff on his ankle that absorbed his seidr, pulling it away from him, rendering him powerless. He may not have his tricks and illusions, but he still had his body. The meals he was served were scarcely nutritious, intended to keep the prisoners alive and little else, but Loki was determined to stay in fighting shape.

Every day, he would work on keeping up his physical strength. There was no room to run or spar, but he did push-ups, sit-ups, squats, lunges, shoulder dips, and ran in place to keep his heart and lungs in top form. He needed to be ready for a fight; he never knew what each day would bring.

Failing to bring Thanos the Tesseract and the infinity stone it held was a death sentence, a slow and painful, miserable death. Sitting in his cell did not make him feel safe, he felt like he was a sitting duck, waiting for the axe to fall. Once the Mad Titan obtained all six stones, he would have unlimited and unmatched power; there would be no place that was safe for him.

Loki was counting on Odin's merciless wrath once he returned to Asgard. He had come to terms with the fact that his life was over. He had played all his best cards but still held a losing hand. He was anticipating a death sentence, the chopping block, quick and painless; he was not prepared to serve a life sentence. If he were lucky, Thanos would find him and end him quickly. Imagining another four thousand years in this bleak Hel caused a lump to form in his throat. He blinked back his tears as he curled up under his blanket. If the opportunity ever arose for him to fight his way out of this place, he had to take it.

oOXOo

Frigga continued her biweekly virtual visits, bringing him news, and trying to understand what led him to do what he did. Over time, she convinced Loki to allow a mind healer to come for weekly sessions. He was reluctant, believing adamantly that the scenarios in his head were factual. Not wanting to believe that someone had corrupted his greatest defense, his mind. But as time went on, he started doubting himself and consented to therapy. It would be something to break up the monotony at the very least.

At first, he sat on the other side of the barrier and helped Loki to unpack everything that he had been through. Once enough trust was built between the two of them, the mind healer was permitted to enter the cell and lead Loki through trauma healing. He tapped into Loki's mind and slowly, piece by piece, untangled the facts from the lies that The Other had planted there like weeds, strangling the truth.

Years passed, before Loki could finally see the events as they truly were. He had tried to end his own life on the bridge that night, unable to live with the disappointment from his family, the guilt over what he had put in motion, and the self-loathing he felt after he learned he was born to and rejected by the Frost Giant King. The Other had mangled his memories, making him believe that he was thrown off the Bifrost by Thor. But now he remembered the truth. He remembered staring at the faces of the two men he once believed to be his father and brother as he let go of Gungir, his lifeline, hoping that the void of space would swallow him up.

But alas, he did not find a peaceful death that night as everyone had believed. When he awakened, he found that bad fortune had brought him to The Sanctuary, the home of the Mad Titan Thanos and the Chitauri.

The torture he had endured by The Other, Thano's minion, was beyond description. Loki, familiar with mind games and hostage tactics, was determined not to break, not to fall prey to the madman. But months passed and the torture became incomprehensible, the effects of the mind stone infiltrating his usually strong mind. He was eventually broken and brought over to their side. He was given his own Chitauri army to command. In exchange for the Tesseract, Loki could subjugate the people of Earth and finally become the king he believed he was destined to be.

There was only one rule: do not fail. And Loki had failed. The heroes of Earth had joined forces with his own brother and brought him down. It had taken several strong hits to the head by the bloated green monstrosity hiding inside the body of a brilliant scientist to do it, but the blows had overridden the control of the mind stone, leaving him with only his tampered memories to contend with.

The mind healer had helped Loki realize where all his anger and bitterness began. Odin treated him differently than Thor. He never acknowledged Loki's good deeds or made time to spend with him as he did Thor. The words and actions of the King only added to the off-putting feeling of being different than everyone around him. Not only did he not look like his family, but he also had to visit separate healers than everyone else. He grew at a significantly quicker rate than his classmates. Sometimes, he inadvertently hurt his playmates as a child because he did not realize his own strength. Lovers always commented on Loki's lower than average body heat during spooning, his touches oftentimes eliciting goosebumps to raise on their skin.

Looking back in hindsight, all the clues were there. How no one had ever put the pieces together was beyond him. Perhaps the idea of a Frost Giant being raised on Asgard, attending school with Asgardian children, making love to Asgardian women was too far-fetched and terrifying to even be considered.

oOXOo

Frigga visited Loki every other week without fail. She kept him abreast of news of the Nine Realms, dealings at court, as well as slipping in information about Thor and other family. He had restored peace, oversaw the reconstruction of the Bifrost portal, but he had also broken off his betrothal to Finna and moved to Midgard against Odin's wishes to live with a mortal. She and Thor shared a house together for four years before circumstances led to their separation.

He could not help but feel emotionally overwhelmed when Frigga told him of Thor's determination to stop the Mad Titan. All the heroes of Earth were resolute in their mission to stop Thanos for the good of all the people in the universe, but for Thor, it was personal. He was going to personally see to it that he paid for what he had put Loki through.

One day, during Loki's sixth year of imprisonment, Frigga came to dungeon in person. As happy as Loki was to see her in the flesh and to get a familiar hug from her, he knew something must be terribly wrong for her to come here after so many years and against Odin's wishes.

And he was right; three days prior, she explained through a tight jaw and clenched teeth, barely maintaining her composure, Thor's body was returned to Asgard by the Man of Iron along with the Tesseract and the decapitated head of Thanos.

Loki sat in disbelieving silence as his mother painfully retold the story of the Infinity War that took place on Midgard. Despite the best efforts of everyone involved, there were many casualties. Immediately after Thor separated Thanos' head from his neck, his enforcer, Ebony Maw, drove an iron girder straight through Thor's back, killing him instantly.

Because of Thor, half of all live in the universe had been saved. Thor died a hero, a protector. He was assuredly feasting in the halls of Valhalla with his ancestors.

Loki held her tightly for several minutes.

"I am truly sorry. If I could trade my life for his, I would do it without hesitation." And he meant it. He should have been there to have Thor's back in battle, just like he had done so many times before. But he was here. Because of his jealousy and hurt, a mother is now mourning a son, a kingdom is mourning a Prince, Earth is mourning a hero, and a man is mourning for his brother.

Thor's death affected him more than he ever thought possible. Guilt was eating him alive. Every time he closed his eyes, he recalled the day he sent The Destroyer to Midgard to stop him, their fight on the rainbow bridge, pushing the button to open the bottom of the Heli-carrier and dropping him thousands of feet to the ground below. He relived all the anger inside of himself as he remembered how badly he had wanted him dead. Now that he was, Loki could not live with himself.

It took many decades for him to come to terms with what he had done. He felt guilty for being relieved that Thanos would no longer be a problem for him. He felt hatred for himself for letting jealousy motivate his actions. He tried to make Thor pay for the actions of Odin. The anger for Odin and his own self-loathing are what started him on the path to where he sits now.

Lonely, miserable, heartbroken.

He longed for the opportunity to do it all over again, differently. He wanted to be a hero. He wanted to do good things for people. He wanted to love and be loved in return.

The alternate version of himself where he is happy, has a beautiful wife, handsome children, and a close-knit family taunt him in his dreams. Dreams of what life could have been like had he dealt with his resentment instead of letting it take root and fester inside him like a cancer, caused him even more pain.

What might have been.