Chapter Text
Loki twirled the dinner knife between his fingers, focusing on how the light hit the blade, the feel of the cool steel on his fingers. Trying to lose himself in a place away from thought.
"You need to eat," the kind voice startled him. He nearly lost the knife but grabbed it before it could fall. It wasn't sharp enough to break his skin or hurt him.
"I'm not hungry," Loki said. "And you shouldn't sneak up on people. I could have hurt myself."
"That's an awful thing to say to your mother," Frigga told him. "I never did like your obsession with knives. Why couldn't you choose a nice hammer or mace, like your brother? Something with less sharp edges?"
"A dagger is more elegant," Loki replied.
It's beautiful. Until it makes you bleed.
"And I was never going to out muscle Thor," he continued. "I prefer to be fast on my feet."
This was okay. Loki decided. He could do this. He could talk about trivial things like Thor.
"You won't be very fast if you don't eat," Frigga insisted, nodding towards the meal that was sitting in Loki's cell. "I hope you don't think starving yourself will get you out of here."
"I'm not starving myself," Loki insisted. "And I'm not trying to get out of here."
Was the admission too much? Had he crossed the line? Was that what he would say in this situation? It didn't sound like what he would say. Loki tried to think of what he was supposed to say. Trying to remember how to be a Loki, how to play his appointed role.
"What happened to you, my son?" Frigga asked sadly. "I've never seen you so defeated before."
Do you think that what makes a Loki a Loki is the fact that we're destined to lose?
"I've never been a prisoner before," he told her. It was a bald-faced lie, and he felt terrible. Lying to his mother was not something Loki did lightly.
He had been Thanos' prisoner, although Thanos was a cunning jailor, who tricked you into thinking you were free. He had been the Avenger's prisoner, although that had been part of his plan. And Loki had been a prisoner of the TVA. At least they had if they'd been real.
His thoughts began to spiral as he once again began to doubt his own sanity. The TVA, the void at the end of time, He Who Remains, and most of all, Sylvie. It was all so insane, so fantastical. Maybe he wasn't strong enough to wield the Tesseract after all. Maybe when he had tried to use it to escape in New York, it had broken his mind.
"What was I wearing?" he asked his mother frantically as he grasped for some hope that he wasn't mad. "When I was brought back to Asgard. What was I wearing?"
"You mean those awful drab things from Midgard?" Frigga asked.
"Yes, those," Loki nodded. "What happened to them?"
"I imagine they were burned. They were dirty and torn. Why?" Frigga asked. "Surely you like this better. I've never known you to want to blend in."
The Asgardian robes he'd been given were better. Loki hadn't liked the clothes given to him by the TVA, nor did he have any attachment to them. But they were proof, proof that something had happened.
As Thor had told it, Loki had vanished with the Tesseract in New York, only to reappear seconds later. For his part, Loki remembered being pushed through the time door, the taste of Sylvie still on his lips as he hit the ground hard. Before he could make sense of what had happened, he was hauled to his feet by Thor, bound, and taken to Asgard.
Heartbroken and confused, he'd been dragged before the family he'd thought he lost. Loki might not have fully processed what it meant to have been pulled out of his timeline. But he had come to some measure of acceptance that from his vantage outside of time, his parents had died. His actions had lead to their deaths, and he would never see them or his brother again.
He could still feel the phantom touch of Sylvie's hands on his chest as she pushed him away, as he stood before his father in all his splendor on the throne of Asgard with his mother pleading for him to not make things worse.
"Have you nothing to say for yourself?" Odin demanded.
"I..." Loki searched for the words. "I never thought I'd see you again. I'm-" Loki stopped himself before he could apologize. Before, he could say all the things he'd never gotten to speak to his father.
Was this a test? If he behaved contrary to how he was supposed to on the Sacred Timeline, would the TVA come for him? For a moment, he was tempted to do everything in his power to break the timeline. Let them come. Let them prune him and send him back to the void. That would only bring him closer to Sylvie.
But it wouldn't be just him, would it? If he told Odin the truth, he would have to be pruned as well. It wasn't just his fate; everyone around him would be reset, removed from the timeline, dumped in the void.
"Tell me, father, have I made you proud?" Loki said, trying to muster as much bravado as he could. Trying to remember how to play the part he was supposed to play.
He had played the part well enough to end up in the dungeon. It was, as dungeon's went, a comfortable one. He was still treated like a Prince of Asgard, but his punishment was more terrible than he suspected the All-Father could ever know.
Because Loki was burdened with terrible knowledge. Every day he wondered if this was the day. The day the dark elves would come. The day they would kill his mother. He didn't dare tell anyone. If he spoke up, he was potentially dooming whoever he told to pruning by the TVA, and not everyone could survive the void the way a Loki could.
But could he really say nothing and let his mother die? What was the point of even trying if the TVA would just reset everything anyway? Unless he was wrong about everything. Unless the TVA was a symptom of his sanity breaking. Maybe he had imagined the whole thing.
Or maybe the TVA was gone. Maybe no one was coming to prune anyone. Maybe Sylvie had killed He Who Remains. She had gambled and won. There were no worse variants of He Who Remains coming to destroy reality. Loki had been given back his life, and he could live it however he chose.
In some ways, that was the worst possibility of all. What if, no matter what Loki did, he couldn't be or do any better. What if all he could do was walk a path that caused his family pain until he finally met his end at Thanos' hands.
"Loki?" his mother asked with concern. "Please talk to me, tell me what happened to you."
The pain in her voice brought him out of his reverie. He wished he could ease her heart, but Loki knew he wasn't a good enough liar to convince her he was fine. And he couldn't tell her the truth. He couldn't risk the TVA coming for her. Not over something as trivial as wanting her comfort or advice.
"I wish you wouldn't come here," he told her, trying to make his voice harsh.
"Well, if you'd just eat something, I wouldn't have to," she said stubbornly.
"If I eat, will you leave?" he asked, almost desperate despite the fact he had no appetite.
She studied him for a few moments before saying, "Yes."
He got up and sat at the table, taking the knife with him to use it for its intended purpose. He took a bite and then looked up expectantly at his mother.
"Fine," she said as her duplicate disappeared, leaving him alone.
Loki sat back in his chair and swallowed. "I love you, mother," he whispered to the empty place she'd been.
There, alone in his cell, the loneliness took hold once more. The fear that he'd seen his mother for the last time and still not had the courage to say those simple words to her.
Frigga watched Loki's image disappear into the flames as she dropped the spell.
"You still see good in him, don't you," she heard Thor say behind her.
For a moment, she thought of deflecting, but she had been caught, and she was too worried to muster the strength to deny it.
"I see pain in him. He is not himself, and I worry what he might do."
"There should be pain," Thor countered. "He is paying for sins he committed. And he's not the boy you once knew."
"No," Frigga agreed, taking Thor's arm. "He is not a boy. I wish he were. Boy's have scraped knees that can be healed with a kiss. Men have wounds that run much deeper."
"You act as if he is the one who was wronged, not some mad tyrant."
"I hope he is not mad," Frigga said with some concern. Then she turned the conversation. "Tell me, on Midgard, was there anyone with him?"
"What do you mean?" Thor asked.
"Some handsome young lad or pretty girl that might have caught his eye?"
Thor laughed. "The only people Loki surrounded himself with were those whose wills he had subverted. They were nothing more than pawns to him. Do you really think he tried to conquer Midgard to impress a lover?" Thor asked incredulously.
"He would not be the first man to do something stupid to win a person's love," Frigga pointed out. "I don't know what drove him to Midgard, but I know my son has a broken heart."
Thor laughed. "Loki, a broken heart? Loki is the one who breaks hearts. I swear he's seduced half of Asgard at one time or another. Including all our friends. Well, except Sif, he at least knew she was smart enough to resist him."
Frigga laughed, "Is that what you think? That he never made a play for her affections because it might be a challenge and not out of love for you?"
"I don't know what you are talking about," Thor said uncomfortably. "Love of me has never prevented Loki from doing anything."
"Maybe," Frigga countered. "But perhaps there are some lines even your brother won't cross. Regardless, I have one son with a broken heart and another who pines for a mortal woman. So shall we check on your Jane?"