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𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 :

gore and other disgusting things like references to rape

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The cell in which Loki found himself staying in reminded him of his childhood bed chambers that he was forced to share with his older brother. The smell, the taste of warriors, all of it. He dreaded it when he was younger, being near that feeling of his brother, but now he clung onto it for dear life, using it as a rope to pull himself back up when the Warden would bring to his mind nightmares in the middle of the night. By the request of his mother he got a decent bed, which was highly uncommon for prisoners, and it was greatly appreciated. At least he hadn't lost her. Even if he couldn't look her in the eye after everything his body did in New York, at least his mother still loved him enough to go through hoops for him. That meant everything to Loki.

And the longer he found himself staring at that rigid magical barrier the more he realized that he would have to atone for his sins in some way. While he was under someone else's control, he felt thoroughly responsible for the chaos. Had he not let himself fall off the rainbow bridge life would be as usual. The boring meetings his father had recently been bringing him to, the chaotic meal arguments with Thor and his friends (who for some reason are always invited for Friday night feasts); it all held a space in his heart that had been shattered when the Warden used his full power against him. There is no normal now, just those six months away. The space between Loki and his old morals feels miles long, like he can only reach them through more punishment. Torture is all he knows now. He finds some sick comfort in it.

Despite the recent magical withdrawals, Loki remained magically healthy, much to his delight. That was the one thing the Warden couldn't take from him completely; the true power of his magic.. His soul could be damaged, but his magic could roam free for the rest of time. It will always be here to guide you, he heard his mother's voice in his head, and it will never leave you alone. Magic is your friend that is hammered to your side with a sweet stickiness you can never expect from a physical friend you meet in your classes. It's true; bittersweet.

"Prince Loki," it was Sif. Loki didn't look her in the eye, those emerald pools glaring down at her fine boots. A gift from Thor, most likely. "The Allfather has requested that you join your family in the Courtroom. Now," her voice splintered off into disappointment in the man she'd known since childhood. Sif was closer in age to him than to Thor, oddly enough, and had spent time in one of the many royal classrooms with him. Because even when Thor would disregard Loki's judgement Sif was there to suggest it once more or just make the older brat do what needed to be done. Her tone sobered Loki, and the prince hated that it did.

"Of course, Lady Sif." He would stay cordial to her, just as he always did. Or rather, the Warden would play to how the actual Loki acts around his older brother's friend; mimic his behavior. "Am I expected to wear my usual attire?"

She paused for a minute as she looked her former ally up and down. Loki felt the inner parts of his mental cage being assessed, but he was sure that Sif could not read that he was in fact caged inside of himself, locked in chains built by a madman. The dark-haired woman let out a deep sigh before getting a sword from a nearby hanger. "Yes, but your mother has also made it very clear she wants no illusions from you. The Allmother wishes for her youngest son and prince to be honest with her." Loki frowned heavily at this. "Her words, not mine," Sif finished.

This would surely become an issue for the Warden. The prince rejoiced, but kept his thoughts to himself for as long as he could. His mother, the cleverest woman he'd ever met, may have saved his life when she made that request. The Warden, who made sure that the guise of Loki's pristine physical health, could not heal the bruises or feed his stomach with magic quick enough to keep up the act. But there was still the chance that the Warden would lash out at everyone for this, harm his mother for making such a damning request. The idea sent a shiver down Loki's spine that Sif noticed, but shrugged off as simple anxiety over the upcoming meeting. He was about to be tried as an adult citizen of Asgard and she believed that he deserved to be locked away for life for what he did to the people of Midgard.

Just like he feared, the next implanted thought from the Warden split his soul in two.

She won't get away with that, foolish boy.

Loki found during his months in that cruel man's clutches that he made no empty threats. When he said she wouldn't get away with it, it meant she would be undeniably hurt after he was done with her. He remembered that phrase from his own torture, when he was truly such a foolish man. When he fought back. You won't get away with such insolence, the Warden would breath down his neck before defiling him in a way where just the thought of it was enough to make him retreat into the inner corners of his mind and weep helplessly.

No time for thinking, the Warden let out a sharp chuckle before Sif released him from the prison cell, putting magical binds around his hands. They reminded Loki of the dim cellar he spent most of the last six months in. Although this magic radiated a purple color, perfect for a warrior like Sif. The Warden's were a mix between black and purple. How they managed to turn such dark shades, he did not know, only understanding that the darkness pooled from the edges of one side to another, enveloping oneself into an endless loop of torment.

Roaming down the halls were guards he hadn't seen in years, ladies in court he wished averted their eyes from him, and the old group of scholars that schooled him when he was a young boy. He hated it all. Their wandering glances and hard stares. Loki felt like an idiot in these chains. Once upon a time he'd had rule over them, been the prince of this palace. Now he would be but a prisoner for the rest of his life, if his father had any say in the matter. Did he, though? Or would his mother be able to tell that the Warden had a hold over his frozen form? Then there was his Pandora.

Well, she surely wasn't his anymore.

On the top of the stairwell stood his mother, clad in her usual formal attire, a bee pin right at her heart. He loved the way she looked. It felt like home to him, and she hadn't changed her wardrobe since before his older brother was born. Some things never change, the Allmother, his mother, being one of them.

His fingers unable to move in his bonds, Loki finally made his way into the Courtroom. A fine place for a prisoner, no place for a prince, and what would be Loki's doom. Endless nights he's spent wondering what the smell of freedom tastes like, wishing in all of his years as prince of Asgard he picked up on the scent and pushed it into his long-term memory. He did question if it was his own egotism that disallowed for such a thing in his youth. Even that was a hard thing to own up to nowadays, as his mind merely stood stagnant, slowly rotting away with each day that went by like this.

But Pandora wasn't there. When he glanced at his mother he couldn't find an inch of malice from her, but it... it wasn't her that he wanted here at his defense. Why had she not been allowed to come to this? Was Pandora not the one unravelling the trail of the millennia? Loki didn't trust the Allfather to be fair in his trial, to understand exactly what was going on between the Warden and his mind. While Odin was a spectacular magic user, he was not on Loki or Frigga's level. He specialized in warfare rather than magical studies, making it impossible for him to see the fucked-up cage Loki managed to get trapped inside.

All the color drained from his face as he looked up at the throne. One man, the center of his universe his whole life. The one who managed to rule over him as a dictator. The one who showed him around the castle (even when Loki was young he got lost in the winding corridors of the horrendously humongous palace). His world suddenly felt like it was falling down around him. Loki wanted to scream, he wanted to cry. To bang against the walls and defend himself against the wave of terror that came with a life sentence. The anxiety crept up his throat, forming a depressive lump.

He didn't say a word.

---

Pandora found the castle utterly boring as the day went on. She found herself spending more time with Klaus after her anxiety-provoking meal, but they said no words to each other. It was odd indeed. None of the Mikaelsons, save for Finn and sometimes Elijah, are quiet. You can find them barking orders to the young vampires and howling from the rooftops to show the power they have over people. They revel in the loud, boisterous crowds at their parties. Oh, they throw as many of those as they can get away with. So why was Klaus so damn quiet this afternoon? She supposed it could be the same reason why she held herself in silence. Anxiety is a common emotion found in Niklaus, no matter how much he likes to deny it.

However, who she was worried most about is Loki, of whom she hadn't seen all day. Knowing just how... cruel... the guards can be around here from his account, she was worried that he hadn't had a good meal or been able to change his clothes. Pandora knew that he wasn't well physically. When he walked he had a slight limp on his left foot, no matter how hard he wanted to cover it up. Nothing about him was entirely well, to be fair, and that sent shivers down the immortal's spine.

During the few years she spent with Loki while he was on Midgard she observed his every movement, desperate to know everything about her tutor. It was a small obsession that turned into a weakness now as she saw him so differently. Neither of them were young anymore, respectively. In the eyes of a Midgardian Pandora may have been considered an ancient goddess with fire for hair, but she knew that her young soul would move on to outlast the sun the planet thrived on. The vastness of her future worried her when she looked over at Loki, who may not survive an eon at this point, lest his magic lengthen his lifespan as it had his father. Pandora didn't like to think about what she would do when her Loki was gone. The idea of it made her shrink back into her perfectly crafted Asgardian gown.

The last thing she needed this century is to lose the only one who'd ever taught her much of anything.

Light glimmered in Pandora's eyes as she took a sharp left turn into the Courtroom the Queen invited her to this afternoon. Right after she'd taken her leave from the cafeteria she had her formal meeting with the ancient queen, who seemed happy to make her acquaintance. Her long hair was kept up in a traditional Asgardian style. No pesky strands of hair to get in the way of her beautiful face. Even in older age it was obvious she held the greatest beauty of the castle. Her magic flowed around her, keeping watchful eyes on everyone that came into her domain. Such power rivaled Pandora's own, almost startling in the way it made conversation with the magic situated around her body, which held firm in its insistence of not being a danger to the queen.

"You've done a good thing for my son," she'd said to her that afternoon, after pulling her to the side, "and I thank you dearly for it. While I may not know of you in the ways Loki does, I trust your character through his eyes, and you are always welcome here on Asgard.

Pandora would not argue her lack of certain morality with the queen at that time. Because now she had to debate Loki's, and that was enough for her this century. The walls that she wished to trace with her short, delicate fingers, were plated in the most stunning of gold. How the kingdom had managed to own this much of the expensive material she may never know, but she doesn't care much in the face of its glory. Her friend would be tried under his own father's throne made of the same substance, and that mattered more right now. The ability to get him out of harm's way, to protect the man she knew was hidden deep inside of himself right now outweighed the heaviness in her curiosities on the origin of gold in the castle.

The opening of the door came as a shock to many inside. Pandora's true form was not revealed then, and so she assumed that her presence at this trial was not confirmed with any of the guards beforehand. On the right hand wall she saw the guards from the cafeteria, and on the left she saw another door. This door, also plated in gold, revealed the Queen's face when she strolled in the room. A few guards and handmaidens walked behind her, never making a sound as she took her place beside her husband's throne. Odin looked exasperated by the presence of the immortal, from what Pandora could pick up. This didn't frighten her as it should have. A near-immortal didn't have power over her, in her eyes.

"She was invited by me," Frigga stated before any drama could arise.

"It shall make no difference," her husband combatted at once, not daring to look into the eyes of the redheaded goddess.

"It will make much difference, actually," the Queen said plainly, much to Odin's annoyance, "but that is not an issue, I assure you. The Great Laureldottir is here as somewhat of a lawyer for our son. It will be good for him to have someone at his defense, since nobody has taken the offer to help him through this trial." Stone cold faces all around as she spoke, "To keep things fair and just, of course, I have brought forth the best magic users in the realm for this trial. We are lucky that this was seen as top priority, my love, as it was quite a short notice." Frigga took in a deep breath. "Nevertheless, the trial can begin when you wish it to. I have all the notes from our first, but failed, attempt at it."

Now Pandora wished she went to law school when she had the chance in 1985.

---

Under the harsh feelings of this trial, Loki couldn't feel a thing. His whole sense of sight was blocked out by the Warden, who wanted full control. Or to torture him in public again, to humiliate him once more. Either way, he had no idea what was happening to him. Even his own grunts of pain felt like a dream, completely separate from his own experience. The magic washed over him in fiery hot waves, sending his head into a well-deserved migraine. He wanted to lash out as much as he wanted to curl up and sob in a corner. Not a good look for a prince, but a common occurrence these days from the prince of Asgard. He hated it with his whole heart, that weakness. It pained his very soul. But he was not separate from this moment, and that furthered his melodramatic mental terror.

It wasn't until the Warden began to scream at his friends, his family members, that Loki came back into himself. And under that pressure the dam finally broke, someone lifting up the hood of his cage enough for him to see back out into the real world. It was so much brighter than he remembered it all being. So much gold, silver, steel. Weight was in the comfort that he had in his former home. Was it former? Or had he just been gone for six months being tortured by a tyrant into believing nobody would let him back inside to consider it a home again?

"Now can you see?" Loki heard Pandora's sharp voice snapping at who he presumed was his father. "He's been in there the whole fucking time. His magic is so much different from whatever has been mimicking him. When he fell off your stupid rainbow bridge he must have been taken over by whatever that evil thing holding him is." Her rage sent a shiver down Loki's spine. It was so uncommon for her to swear at people in such a way. That was more Klaus' style. "Now that he's out we can care for him as he should have been in the first place. And...."

A great pause erupted in the room as Loki let out a loud cough. The glamour, He thought at once as everyone gasped at his exterior. Broken, skinny, but worst of all bruised on every inch of his body. And this wasn't even the aftermath of what the Hulk did to him. No, this was recent. Every night when the Warden found it fun to torture him in his sleep. He didn't feel it until he woke up, to make sure he didn't start screaming in the dungeons, but now he really felt it. A sound of pain erupted from him as he fell to the floor. Blood pooled in his mouth as a few old gashes from his previous torture sessions burst open. And as he coughed and coughed it up, he felt the disgust in his gut grow stronger.

"Oh my," a few gasped out in the crowd.

"How did this happen to the prince?"

"What in the name of Hel—?"

"QUIET!" The Allfather's voice boomed through the air as he made his way off the throne and to his son in a flurry. "Loki!" It was the first time the man had heard his father show any concern for him in centuries. "Loki what has happened to you, my boy?" Odin questioned him further, looking him up and down. If he were younger, the king was sure he would be able to pick him up. That was how small his son had become. It sent shivers down everyone's spine to see their formerly beloved prince in such a state. Loki was relieved to know that his brother had not come to this trial, or had at least decided that he would be extremely late. Although he didn't quite know how long it had taken to get to this point in time.

Oh, so now he cares, Loki thought bitterly as he was helped off the ground. Blood was now oozing from all over his body. Not a single tear could be shed, however, and this caught many off guard. Pandora was the first one to make the attempt to help him rise, one of her soft hands cupping his cheek as she did so. He leaned into her touch, but screamed in terror as another one of the guards tried to touch him. Flashes of what happened in the crypts of god-knows-where sent his mind into pure panic, his magic not doing much to calm him or his screams. They sent Pandora and Odin both back as he tried to run, but only fell over his injured foot back onto the ground.

But the cage wasn't completely open, and he found himself stuck between freedom and isolation. Loki didn't feel as if he deserved freedom at all, and so put himself between a rock and a hard place. Before he dreamed of escape, but they were just that, dreams. Now he didn't know how to be alive, to be himself in his own body. He didn't know himself anymore. There was no trust in himself at all. The what ifs  commanded more than the whys.

"Don't move, Loki," Pandora pleaded with him, not knowing if he could make more than a few steps on his own. Once the guard ran back to his station on the right wall, the wails stopped, much to everyone's relief. The immortal ran a hand down the side of Loki's face only to stop at his neck, where many healed and unhealed scars lined the once pale skin of his neck. Now it looked as if someone crushed his windpipe or took a knife to his flesh for fun. Like a child working on their grim art project. "Loki, I need for you to let us move you out of here, okay? Nobody here is going to hurt you, I promise."

"No...." Loki whined out at once, looking away from his former pupil's bright green eyes. He felt like a disgrace once more, humiliated in front of so many people. He looked disgusting, a vile monster broken. At least his skin remained light and his eyes green. His hair was disheveled and he was sure parts of it had been ripped out. His gaunt face haunted the room as he shook his head as quick as he could in his utter exhaustion. "Don't make me. Don't make me. Don't make me ple—" he was cut off by blood pouring from his mouth, making him choke, "Please."

"He needs a healer immediately," Frigga started, unwilling to show the panic deep inside of her. The Queen turned to one of the guards and to her husband and confirmed, "I order someone to get one of the healers and tell them to come to the throne room now."

Once Loki realized what was happening, he began to weep. "No, no, no, no..." he almost chanted, backing himself into a wall as tears mixed with blood ran down the sides of his face. In a weak attempt at getting the coming guards away from him he screamed and threw whatever he could as hard as possible in their direction, making loud noises that would startle the entire castle. He couldn't see through his teary eyes either, meaning he had no clue what weaponry he was throwing. No magic was used, however, as the magic users used their combined force to keep themselves safe from whatever wrath the traumatized Loki could release upon them.

As a brave guard took a leap of faith and came closer to him, Loki's voice broke out into a screaming cry. "GET AWAY FROM ME! GET AWAY! GET AWAY!" He shouted at them all, "DON'T TOUCH ME! DON'T TOUCH ME!" And from then on it was simple sobs that erupted from the back of his bruised throat, with blood coming from the sides of his mouth as he coughed and cried on the floor. It shocked himself and the people around him who tried to help the crying young prince, who seemed inconsolable even to his parents.

"Loki..." Pandora started, but trailed off as she sat herself on the floor near her former tutor. She hated to see him like this, so raw and hurt. He didn't look at her for a long time, crying to himself as a healer was ordered to look at him from afar and assess at a distance what they needed to do in order to help the prince. The immortal whispered to him, "I promise you, min stjerne, that I won't touch you until you let me. I won't let anyone else touch you either, okay?"

In that moment Pandora saw him in a state she'd never been able to see him before. He was small, and she thinks now that he's always seen himself as small. But to everyone else he was their prince, a master of magic. And to himself he's just a person, a very, very small person in a vast world of beings he'll never be able to overcome. This comes out now as she tries to make eye contact with him. The immortal hopes that he can hear her, that he's even listening to the words she says to him. She desperately wants her presence to be known to him. It's all she's ever really wanted. It's always been him that she comes back to time and time again.

During his darkest hour somehow he'd gotten back to her too.

Of course, someone had to ruin the little moment that they were having. Thor, to be exact, who had come in with a booming, "How is trial going today?" He really didn't want the real answer to that question, as his brother was broken and crying in the corner as he spoke. As his long blonde hair moved around and he looked at the scared maidens, he looked at where they were pointing. From his distance and slightly blinded eyesight from looking into the sun like an idiot that morning he could only see red hair and... blood? Yes, Thor saw that correctly, and it made him move to the scene with swift ease.

Pandora had to act fast in order to keep Thor away from his brother, who was going to start screaming bloody murder at any moment if he continued to be threatened with touch. Thor gave her a glare only a future king could give, but it didn't stop her from getting up and blocking the view of her former teacher. "You can't get any closer. He doesn't want to be touched at all," she explained quietly as Loki inched further and further away from the two of them. "You must promise him and me that you won't touch any part of his body under any circumstance. Can you do that?"

A snarl left the warrior's mouth, but he nodded, oddly enough. Pandora let out a deep sigh and looked back at Loki, who still hid his beautiful emerald green eyes from everyone. They must have gone back to their normal color, no longer under the control of whoever trapped him in that mental cage of his for months on end. His skinny hands gripped a pole that stuck out of the wall and used it as support for his failing body. He needed to get something to heal those wounds, lest he get an infection. With no other magic mingling with his own he had no chance at surviving in the long run. The person who hurt him in such a way had to be punished in court.

The one who did this deserved to be hung in front of the entire kingdom of Asgard.

Personal boundaries achieved, Loki looked to have calmed down, but only slightly. His teeth still clattered in terror and he still needed a pillar to hold onto. But he wasn't being touched, and that meant the world to him. The idea of someone putting hands on him made him want to vomit, to curl up into a ball and just die. He felt disgusting, like in some way he was shattered beyond repair. He had been defiled in ways he didn't want to talk about and touch only brought back that idea that he would be hurt in that intimate way again.

"What has happened to my brother?" Thor questioned as he got his thoughts in order. "Lady Pandora, I won't touch him, so let me see him!" He ordered. When she did as he asked, he was horrified to see Loki in such a state. On the floor, caked with blood and tears. His neck was bruised so badly he'd think he'd been choked to death, or had his neck snapped. It took everything in him to not cry in front of everyone, to keep to his word and not reach out for his little brother who he desperately wished to protect from the evils of the world. He'd been too late, his brother was hurt beyond repair. And Thor found guilt in thinking that the blue-eyed Loki could've been his own brother. It wasn't, and it would never be.

"How much can they heal without touching him?" Pandora asked the older prince.

"Not enough," he mumbled under his breath, looking out to the healers who patiently waited for the prince to be touchable. "Most of their training involves a machine that would be touching him, though. Like the modern inventions of humans, but powered by magic and far more effective." Thor glanced down at the ground and let out a worried sigh. "He'll feel it, and it does feel like touch from my experience. But he can't go on like... this," he pointed to him before having to suck in a breath to stop tears from falling down his face. "He'll die if he isn't treated for his wounds, lady Pandora. Soon."

That was true. The man couldn't even get off the floor to bring himself to the healer's room. Pandora's muscles tensed at the idea of his death. No, she wouldn't allow it to get that far, she would do something before then. All eyes were on her now, the one who he seemed to trust the most.

"Loki?" She breathed out before averting her eyes from Thor to the damaged prince. "Loki, we need you to—"

Before she could finish her sentence, a loud SNAP! rang through her ears.

His emerald eyes triggered something in their souls that was a thousand years coming.

---

Ahhh! The mating bond is finally triggered! I bet you all were wondering when that would happen to our pair of lovebirds. Well, here it is, and now they have to figure out how to help poor Loki.

Sorry for sporadic updates on this baby, it's a gem so I'm very perfectionistic about it... and I'm almost out of free room to roam with my outline and finished parts. Oopsie!

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