I really want to roleplay as a mentally unstable Loki. So naturally no one is online and even if they were, they wouldn’t want to roleplay that with me for one reason or another. So I wrote this bit of prompt instead. …Enjoy.
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   How was it that he ever thought he could win? He was never meant to rule over precious realm of Asgard. That was always meant to be Thor’s great achievement when Odin’s time would come to an end. Still, all those ancient promises haunted him each night as he rotted away in his stone prison. All the lies that accumulated over the years, everything the mighty Allfather had told him he could be, it all came crashing down like a floodgate giving way.

   Shoulders slumped down, Loki stared up at the ceiling with his gag still firmly clamped around his mouth. The metallic biting forced to remain between his upper and lower jaw in such a way that it caused his muscles to cramp off and on with nothing he could do but wait it out. Even with that minor discomfort, he was still bound but this time his arms had been moved behind his back so he could not even attempt to rid himself of the uncomfortable metal that threatened to slice through his tongue should he even try to speak. 

   With deafening silence echoing all around him, the captured prince continued to reflect on all his betrayals. The ones made against him and the ones he raised against others till those thoughts drifted into the maddening truth. He was here thanks to his own malice and disgust in himself. Still, the reflection of his own hatred, self loathing or not, did very little to aid him with an escape. 

   Footsteps came to disrupt the calm of inner madness but the prisoner of Asgard did not move. His blank stare borrowing into the plan stone ceiling as he knelt facing the far wall to the left of his keep. The position having been held exactly the same for almost a week and despite the goading of the guards, Loki could not bring himself to bring his focus off his own inner turmoil. That was until now.

   The footsteps were heavy with an imitation of confidence to them that to the untrained ear one would never had noticed. Still, the man drawing ever closer to his keep did not drag the mischief maker out of his kneeling position. The ceiling seeming to keep his interest even when the footsteps and come to a stop.

   He had no need to move to see who had come to pay him an unscheduled visit. Clearly it was the very soul who had brought him back to this wretched place that despised him, the one he once called brother, Thor. 

   Thor would place his hands upon the cold bars that held him captive but be unaffected by the magic sea that invisibly stood along side the bars set as an extra precaution to greatly weaken the sorcerer’s magic. Thor would then silently ask why he, Loki, had taken the path of resentment and destruction to which he could only answer with a grunt or an eyeroll but would instead just remain still just to hear the golden son’s heart crack.

   “Loki,” whispered a voice that caught the trickster off guard. No, it was not that it was unrecognizable but more that it was difficult because it sounded like two people talking. A man and a woman. The male one very much belonged to Thor but the woman was harder to place. “Do you not recognize me, Master?” At last, Loki closed his eyes and the name returned to him. The beautiful enchantress, Amora. How could he have forgotten her so easily? Still he made no other effort to show that he even acknowledged the other’s presence. 

   Something jingled and the tumble of a lock coming undone clinked in strangely lit up room. Perhaps it was another part of his containment, for on one wanted to give him even the satisfaction of hiding in a half shadow to conceal himself. Not that he would even want to since he knew there was no expense spared to keep him from freeing himself or to even allow him a scrap of dignity for that matter.

   “You must leave this place. A cell was never meant to hold someone like you for so long,” the mixed voices spoke in perfect unison. Metal gently glide across more steel as the door was forced open but the enchanted barrier held strong, leaching at the trickster’s strength and power that he refused to so any sign of awareness. “Have your time in adjunct solitude driven your mind into madness?” The mangled voice questioned.

   The other moved in but their steps slow, as if they were trudging through unseen snow. Perhaps the magic Amora was casting to disguise herself was weakening due to the unseen barrier. Either way she was violating the Allfather’s command with this act of treason by being there. 

   At last the steps went silent once more and Loki dared to open his eyes this time though he struggled with the simple act. His body desperately craving nourishment and sleep that he so stubbornly denied. 

   “What have those fools done to you?” Despite the tone of concern, Loki felt as if the words were cold and laced with disgusted pitty. “This is not how a king should be treated. Come, Loki. Let me help you.” The familiar form of his once known brother knelt before him though he saw no tall tale shimmer of the enchantress. Then it dawned on him. The strange tint of green that wrapped around Thor’s typically sky blue eyes gave away the tall tale that he was under a temporary form of control. 

   Slowly the trickster lowered his head as he struggled to rise to his feet. The act zapping him of what little strength he had, sending him tumbling into the elder prince’s chest with as much grace as a feline falling from a short drop, somewhat graceful but still humiliating, at least for the creature. 

   With the brief glimmer Loki had seen before he fell, he knew that his rescuer was losing her control on the blonde male’s mind. The jade glow around his iris’ flickering as his arms wrapped around the fallen man’s frame. 

   “I’m losing my hold on him,” Amora decided to state the obvious before forcing Thor back onto both feet to make their not so glamorous escape. Still, it was somewhat ingenious to enslave the mind of the very fool who had brought him to justice as a pawn to bring him back into society once more.

   Despite the humor intertwined in the less than cheerful reunion, Loki felt his vision swim as Thor helped him to his feet. His body wanting to subcom to exhostion and did so without any consideration for its own freedom. Loki landed against the other male once more, his eyes closed, body heavy, and mind slipping back into darkness where his thoughts were free to torment him with past endeavours yet again.

   “I must hurry,” the mingled voice hissed as the stolen form picked up the trickster in both arms and carried him free of the cell, through the magic draining seal, and down the hall with urgency. Despite being out from the unseen barrier, the charming enchantress was losing her hold on the thunderer’s mind. His will becoming too strong to hold back though she knew if she forced him to return quick enough, she just might have the upper hand at defeating him while his own strength was drained at the cost of revealing where her loyalties lied. Still, it was a small price to pay for the start of a great whole; the start of the great prophecy, Ragnarok.