Dungeons and Drinking

Thor had brought Loki home to Asgard, knowing that the Trickster would face serious punishment for his many transgressions. He kept his face a mask of indifference, just like a King should, and lead the Trickster to his cell under the palace. It would be Loki’s temporary place until after the trial. Guards followed them nervously, keeping an ever-watchful eye on Loki, who didn't even acknowledge their presence. Thor opened the cell, looking over the spartan room. A small chair, a curtained latrine, a wash basin, and a bed were all that resided in the room, the flickering lights of torches leaving the cell pleasantly dark for sleeping.

Loki observed his gilded cage, knowing it was prettied up because of Thor. The Thunderer was the only man foolish enough to make the guards fix up a cell just for him. Loki had been in worse, but it would still be a cage that held him fast and his world would become as small as the room. Loki huffed through the Half-Mask that prevented his speech, unable to fold his arms because of the stupid shackles. Thor sighed and removed the chain between the shackles, taking the mask off Loki and dismissing the guards so they could speak. The guards practically fled like frightened children, slamming doors behind them. The Trickster did his best to stifle the laugh that threatened to bubble up from his throat. Thor looked Loki over, mumbling, “Will you ever tell me why, without lies, Loki?” Loki worked his jaw around to relax the tense muscles, giving Thor a defiant stare. “Why? All-Mighty Thor, there is no why. Put the mask back on and go rest. My trial will be over before you know it. Don’t let me keep you from Sif and the other maidens who await your charm and presence.” The last sentence came out much harsher than Loki had intended, but he sat on the bed, pointedly not looking at Thor.

The Thunderer looked at Loki’s poison green eyes, shaking his head as he held the mask. “Look this way, brother-“, Thor jumped at the growl that left Loki’s lips, “I’m not your brother,” was the cold reply, but Loki looked at him nonetheless. Thor held up the mask, speaking softly. “I will ask Father for permission to leave this off. I will visit tomorrow, Loki.” The trickster snorted, shaking his head wearily as a few ebony strands fell out of place. The Golden God studied Loki’s face for a minute, taken aback by how the small misplaced strands made the trickster seem more open. Thor dropped slowly to one knee in front of the paler man, brushing the strands back into place while Loki forced down a blush from just the tenderness of the small, familiar action. Loki’s lips twitched up in the smallest of smiles before Thor had to place the mask back on, quickly mumbling in the Trickster’s ear. “Check under your bed,” he said, pressing a kiss to the stunned man’s brow, leaving and shutting the cell as tears threatened to spill from electric blue eyes. The Thunderer swept past the guards and went straight for his rooms, holding back until he was safely locked into his room, where he let them fall, covering his mouth with a hand as he felt guilt wash over him in great waves, threatening to drowned him with its sheer weight. Thor grabbed the gift Flask of mead from his bed, downing it swiftly in the hope of washing his guilt away along with the shameless tears that streaked his face.

Back within his cell, Loki felt the prickle of tears, forcing himself to hold them in and show no weakness. It seemed even Thor could only stand his presence for so long. He shouldn’t have been surprised, he didn’t really even deserve what he was given. His sins were his own, even if they were facilitated by Odin. It was only a shame that Thor was in the middle of it all. Once the tears were successfully prevented, Loki gathered himself to peek under his bed curiously. The discovery of many cloth wrapped bundles had the Trickster wary yet curious. He poked and prodded at the bundles for a few minutes, deciding they were safe before dragging one of the painstakingly carefully wrapped bundles from under his little bed. He gently unwrapped the bundle, tears coming unbidden and unstoppable this time, sliding down his pale face to drip onto an old leather cover. Loki used the cloth to soak up the tears, running his shaking fingers over his favorite book. It was worn with age and lovingly taken care of, no dust, ruined pages, or even a single new mark. It smelt faintly of ozone, like Thor, and as the pieces clicked together in his mind the Trickster nearly sobbed.

The Thunderer had saved the books when Loki had left. Odin would have had his things destroyed or trashed, but the golden oaf saved the books. Loki held the book tight to his chest, lying down on his little bed as if shielding the book from harm. Loki started to fall asleep, still holding the book as his tired mind decided that if Thor visited, maybe this gilded cage would seem a little less closed in. The trickster slept soundly for the first night in a long time, dreaming of Thor’s silly antics from when they were younger, the summer nights spent reading to the oaf when he wasn’t busy with The Warriors Three. The dreams were so vivid, and the trickster could smell the sweet breeze coming from the gardens, the scent of Thor, the childlike curiosity shining in Bright blue eyes.

Thor himself slept fitfully at first, holding onto the leather and fur long coat that was Loki’s. It smelt of forests, wild flowers, green apples, and a hint of something the Thunderer couldn’t name, but it lulled his mind into sleep, easing his guilt some. He dreamed of dark nights when Loki would sneak in to visit him, the young trickster didn’t like the total darkness. Thor would always move over, not saying a word as Loki got comfortable beside him. It was something only they knew. Loki was adamant about no one else knowing, and Thor was grateful for the extra time with his brother back then.