Chapter Text
Slowly, so very slowly but inevitably, Thor's eyes fill with tears which spill over in silence. He doesn't move a muscle as they trickle gracelessly down his face and wet his whiskers, doesn't attempt to wipe them away or hide them. As he has done every night except the very first night, Thor weeps.
As he has done every night, including that very first night, Loki watches his brother, dry-eyed, as the lash bites into his skin again and again, leaving long ugly welts on top of the welts from the previous nights. As he has wondered every night, Loki again wonders why Thor, safe on the other side of the room, is weeping. He will not ask, has not asked, but he wonders all the same. It gives his mind something to do as his body absorbs the assault in shuddering silence.
There have been many such nights before. Many more will surely follow, as the All-Father has decreed.
Loki wonders.
***
Returning to Asgard was easier than Loki anticipated; all it took was trying to take over a world, allying himself with a being so dangerous and alien that he was more frightening than Odin had ever been, and as if by magic, in swooped Thor to take him home.
Home. The word is bitter on his lips now. Was Asgard ever home, really? Better than the Void, by far; better also than the barren rock where the Other had taken him, and better than Midgard- marginally. Midgard had been such fun, toying with their shiny new heroes. But at the end, his plan, convoluted and near-derailed as it had been, succeeded. Thor took him back. The muzzle and cuffs Loki tolerated as necessary concessions to the humans' ire with him. As if their puny, too-young city was something they couldn't rebuild even inside their own brief lifetimes! Truly, they'd over-reacted.
Asgard is as it ever was, spires and forts, wide-eyed warriors watching them as they entered the city, carrying the Tesseract between them. So much trouble stemmed from that miserable box and the power it contained. Loki considered regretting having used it, but what good would regret be, now? As if anybody would believe him. He was brought before Odin and Frigga, and found he couldn't look at the woman he'd thought of as 'mother'. He didn't want to see the disgust on her face- or any
other emotion. Instead, he looked up at the All-Father from his position on the floor, and put every ounce of anger, resentment and bitterness he felt into that look.
Odin's returned look was terrible to behold. He said only this- "Loki. Sleep."
When Loki awoke three days later, the muzzle and cuffs were still on him, and his sentence had been decided. Again, he was dragged in front of the throne and pushed to the floor. He didn't look around, but knew that the hall was near-empty- only the Elders, the King and Queen, and Thor. Not nearly as public as this sort of audience generally was. Odin wasted no time.
"Loki Odinson. For your rash, foolish and murderous actions, for your attacks on your brother Thor-" Something in Loki's gut unfurled, half in longing, half in disgust, until he remembered that his parentage wasn't common knowledge in Asgard. Of course the All-Father wanted to keep his own treachery secret, and so had to keep up the pretence as he had before, "-for the sabotage of Asgard's relations with two neighbouring worlds, there can be only one punishment."
Loki held his breath and waited for the word that would end him- or for Thor to call for mercy. He was rather counting on that call, really. However, Odin's next words completely blindsided him.
"Loki, you are too dangerous to banish, to be allowed to walk freely between worlds. And…you are too precious to me to be slain as a common criminal." He allowed a moment for that to sink in, as Loki's world froze along with the blood in his veins. "To take away your magic would, eventually, kill you. This, too, I will not do. Your crimes are not against me- they are against the people of Jotunnheim and Midgard, against the reputation of the warriors of Asgard as fair and honest warriors. Thus, it is the people of these three realms who would be avenged in your punishment. I sentence you to be locked up, chained and gagged as you are now, for a year and a day, or until every warrior in Asgard who feels they are owed their due from you has satisfaction. Such vengeance as they choose, to be exacted from you by one warrior every night, from sunset until the third hour after midnight." Odin paused, apparently thoughtful despite the fact that every word had been considered, weighed and decided in advance.
"They will have a choice of implements set by me, and Thor will observe every such punishment session to be sure that they do not exceed the limits I have set. They may not remove limbs, eyes or other organs, nor maim you permanently. They may not violate you. The muzzle should leave you access enough to your own magic to heal yourself, at least a little, during the day. You will be fed, and your servants will all be deaf and mute, that they may not hear your honeyed words, nor yet repeat them to others. No other will be there, unless you are safely gagged."
It is a lot to take in- nothing at all like Loki'd expected; cruel in its way, and yet- it was only pain. He could take pain, and had endless patience and plenty of experience at being used as punching bag for the warriors of Asgard. The All-Father was being…merciful. Very much so. Loki had no idea what to think. Thor opened his mouth, got out all of one syllable before Odin stopped him.
"No, Thor. The decision has been made. You will supervise your brother's punishment." Loki would have bared his teeth at that, had the muzzle allowed it. The thought of Thor watching his punishment made him sick, but he could hardly protest it now. The hall was full of muttering, the Elders quietly furious, Thor's companions puzzled, angry- not Loki's concern, fortunately. As he had Thor, Odin silenced them all with a gesture.
"Enough. I will be the first to punish my son, tonight. And you-" he turned to Thor, "Prince of Asgard, heir to my throne, you will be the last. When all others have taken their revenge, you will take yours and all guilt, all wrongs, will be atoned for. Take him away." He turned away, cold and imperial.