Chapter Text
Loki, second prince of Asgard, most powerful sorcerer in at least five realms, and god of mischief and fire, was being sold to a Jotun nobleman. Sold! As if her were a common whore that Odin and Thor could trade out in payment of goods.
Frigga had tried to comfort him, to explain the importance in regaining mjolnir from the Jotun lord Thrym. True, mjolnir was a powerful weapon, one that could destroy all of Asgard should it fall to the wrong hands. Loki however, saw only the fact that Thor had made yet another blunder, and that Loki was once again the one to pay the price. Frigga had left when it became obvious that her attempts to reason with her adopted son fell upon deaf ears. Loki tried not to let the twinge of pain bother him. He had wanted her to stop trying to defend Odin and Thor, but he had not wished for her to leave.
Loki was sitting on his bed, waiting to be summoned to the Bifrost. Thrym would soon be coming to claim his demanded ransom for Mjolnir, Loki’s hand in marriage. When the Jotun messenger had stood before the great throne and named Thrym’s price for the stolen hammer, Loki had thought that Odin would never accept. Loki had thought that, while Odin’s love for his second son had never been very strong and had waned his true heritage had been revealed during the incident, that he at least prized him above a weapon that would be useless in the hands of any but Thor. Loki had been wrong, Odin had agreed to give Thrym of Jotunhiem his adopted son to marry. He had taken no more than the time of a single breath to make this decision before sending the messenger away.
“See reason brother!” Thor’s loud, boorish voice still echoed in Loki’s thoughts, “If mjolnir is to remain in the hands of the Frost-giants, there is no telling what damage those beasts will wreak upon Asgard and the rest of the nine realms” Thor often forgot that Loki himself was a Jotun, and comments on the barbaric nature of the frost people were common. Loki only felt mild irritation at the mindless barb. The insinuation that Loki was the one in the wrong was what angered the young sorcerer, nay it infuriated him! He had been about to tell Thor just what he thought of this when Odin interrupted.
“You will do as you are told Liesmith.” The Allfalther’s voice was soft and cold, needing no force to show his strength. The harsh words cut deep in the trickster’s heart “You will do this, or you will be punished.” Loki’s thoughts at once turned to the memories of removing leather cords from his own lips; of Thor holding him down and sewing his mouth closed while all of the court looked on and laughed; of Frigga watching in perfect calm as her son was tortured. Loki rather felt that experiencing that again would be worth it if he did not have to leave the only home he had ever known to live among his worst enemies. Do your worst, you old fool!
“No Loki,” Odin’s voice cut through the bitter memories, “that was nothing compared to what will await you if you defy me now.” The old buzzard could read minds? Loki could already feel defeat looming over him. “Your penalty will not end this time, you will be made to suffer for all time. You will be imprisoned in the very bowls of our dungeons, never to see the light of day again. Your pain will never cease. You will writhe in screaming agony for all eternity.”
The speech was a bit longer than necessary, one would almost think that Odin had prepared it for when he would next need to threaten his son. Even Thor had seemed pale when the Allfather was through. He had even looked to be about to speak out against such an act, but seemed to remember himself and quickly assumed an agreeing expression. So typical of the Thunderer, throwing aside his precious honour so easily. Why bother fighting for justice and honour when the only victim is Loki Liesmith?
So Loki had relented, agreed to go to Jotunhiem as trade, and was taken from Odin’s throne room by armed guards and deposited in his chambers. As if he were some common criminal! No one had come to speak to him since Frigga had left, although one of his guards had attempted a kind word before being muffled by his partner. “It’ll be all right.” the man had said, moving to lay a hand on Loki’s shoulder before being all but dragged from the room by the other guard.
No, Loki thought. As he sat on his bed he could hear the crackle of the bifrost, announcing the arrival of his betrothed.. It will most certainly will not be all right.