Light Bringer

Thor/Avengers Fanfiction. Set post Avengers Assemble.

Loki was imprisoned upon his return to Asgaard. Thor stands a daily vigil by his brother’s cage, only to leave heartbroken each evening when the God of Mischief elects to remain silent.
The people of Asgaard cry out for Loki’s punishment and Heimdall tells Odin that the people of Midgaard do the same.
The Allfather seeks the help of Synneva, an Asgaardian who was stranded on Midgaard when the Bifrost was destroyed.

Rated Yellow for safety.


6. All Too Familiar

Synneva emerged from the prison to find an anxious thunder god awaiting her. She watched bewilderment settle on his countenance as she requested the guards close the gateway behind her. 

“What happened? Did Loki speak with you?” Thor interrogated. 
Synneva met his questions with a barely-there smile in self-satisfaction.
“Sort of.” she replied, not having to look at Thor to know the presence of a bewildered frown. Instead, she set her sights on her horse and crossed to the guard she had secured him with. Taking the reigns from the sentinel with a grateful nod, she mounted her steed and turned to face the perplexed prince before her.
“I need to speak with your father, Thor, and I must request that you accompany me.”
The thunder god twisted to look upon the portal behind him briefly, knowing now why Synneva had requested the entrance be sealed. 
“But, my brother…” He began, gazing up at the woman, with eyes full of disappointment. 
“I understand your sentiment, but, if you want me to help Loki, you are going to have to trust my judgement.” Synneva coaxed. 
She watched with satisfaction at the thunder god’s solemn yet, understanding nod. 


Loki had awoken to the sound of a multitude of determined footsteps echoing through the chamber. He rose to his feet unhurriedly, not wishing to give the newcomers the satisfaction of having taken him by surprise.
He had not expected a visit at this hour and he was ashamed to say he had been asleep when they came for him. He should have been ready; he should not have slept. The appearance of the strange woman earlier that day had set him on edge. Then the absence of Thor had unnerved him more so. 
The trickster god had felt it in his bones; the stranger had brought change with her. She had signalled a disturbance in what had become his equilibrium. 
Angling his head upwards, Loki beheld the outcrop. Even in the dim light afforded him, he could still distinguish the forms of Thor and the Allfather. 
Loki waited with eyes narrowed, breath baited and teeth gritted in anticipation. 
A familiar metallic clang rang out against the cavern walls, followed by a single, heart-stopping crack, which seemed to come from behind him. He fought back a wince at the sound. 
A low rumbling ensued as the trickster god’s cell crumbled away, piece by piece, into the rapids below. 
The next few moments passed much as they had on the day Loki was imprisoned, with Thor being the one to remove him from the island of stone and place him on the outcrop before an assembly of asgaardians. The thunder god took a place to the right of the king of Asgaard.
Silence hung thick in the air as Loki righted himself before the Allfather. The god of mischief found himself turning away from Odin’s dutiful and resolved gaze and pivoted slowly on his heel to survey the others gathered on the platform. He took in the form of Frigga, looking on with eyes damp from tears. An uneasy feeling overcame Loki, wondering what the Allfather had decided as his punishment to make her cry so. Raising an eyebrow, he continued his scrutiny of the group, noticing Heimdall brandishing the all too familiar transportation device with the Tessaract pulsing at its centre. The temptation was almost too delicious and, for a moment, Loki found himself formulating a plan to claim the device for his own. However, upon completion of his survey, the trickster god thought better of it, noting the presence of nearly an entire company of guards. 
No. He decided, turning his gaze back to Odin. Let us see how this unfolds, first. 
Then, as if on cue, the Allfather spoke. 
“Loki.” He began, pausing for a moment as the god of mischief raised his eyebrows in mock uncertainty and pointed to his chest as if to say ‘Who? Me?’.
Odin continued, seemingly unabashed.
“Your actions, both on Midgaard and here on Asgaard, have wrought misfortune and chaos. You have been responsible for the deaths of numerous innocent people. People who could not have hoped to protect themselves against you. You have exercised unspeakable cruelty, chasing a foolish dream. You have betrayed the love of your family-”
A flash of rage consumed seething emerald eyes.
“-and, as such, you are unworthy of this realm.”
Fragments of a similar scene flashed through the trickster god’s mind; The Bifrost, Thor, Odin and a banishment, subsequent of a foolish venture into Jotunheim. Loki rolled his eyes, knowing what was to follow.
“I hereby strip you of your powers…” 
Anger and impulse had tainted the Allfather’s words before. Resignation did so now. The trickster god distantly wondered why, before he found his eyes widening involuntarily at Odin’s outstretched hand. 
A slow burn spread through Loki’s frame, steadily growing in intensity and ferocity. It forced him to the ground. He could feel tears at his eyes and he struggled for breath beneath the muzzle he still wore. He half-registered the whimper of a woman nearby and assumed it had come from Frigga. Self-pity claimed him and he inwardly chided himself for bothering to read so many books and learn so much magic. 
The attack relented after what seemed like an age and the searing pain passed. Loki made a half-hearted attempt at wiping away the tears at his eyes, but remained on the ground for a further moment. He drew in a succession of ragged breaths, suddenly wishing for the use of his mouth, before struggling into a kneeling position.
Loki recognised the feeling almost instantly. It was weakness. He was no stranger to it; years of living in Thor’s shadow had seen him become well acquainted with the sensation. 
“In the name of my father…”
Heimdall marched dutifully towards the god of mischief, bidding him stand with a heavy-handed grip on his nearest arm and a rough upwards tug. Loki swayed a little, wondering if he would be able to remain standing for much longer.
“…And his father before…”
Heimdall forced one of the cylinder’s handles into Loki’s palm, taking the other firmly in his own.
“…I, Odin Allfather, cast you out.” 
Loki bid heavy eyelids remain open and he cast one last glance around the chamber. Thor had moved to Frigga’s side, letting her lean into his shoulder. Loki read twin expressions of hope and desperation in their eyes. 
There was a sudden wrenching sensation from the opposite end of the cylinder and Loki tightened his grip on the bar beneath his palm, lest he fall to his knees again. 
Then, his world exploded into a jagged spectrum of light. 


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