Carpe et Capere

It began almost inconspicuously: a mild jerk of his leg, a twitch on his face, a blank stare at his holding cell's walls—Loki didn't think much of it. It was harmless. It was needles to mention to anyone and certainly didn't warrant getting help from the healers. It would dissipate, Loki reasoned. Maybe it was just his nerves as he awaited his punishment from the Allfather after trying unsuccessfully to rule Midgard. Maybe it was just his lack of sleep—still, quiet and dark sleep without any dreams—something Loki just wasn't getting anymore. It could have been a number of things with a number of explanations.

What Loki didn't know, though, was that it was going to turn into something and a very large something at that. What Loki was never expecting happened right at the moment he was chained in front of the Allfather and the shackles around his neck and wrists clanked together as Loki went from standing to collapsing on the ground.

Loki never anticipated seeing that look of worry and concern flicker in Thor's and Frigga's faces.

It was all he could imagine before he was certain that the lights went out.

{***}

"Stress is a likely cause."

Loki heard the voice almost as a ringing in his ears.

He didn't appreciate it.

"But—but the jerking?" Thor stammered nervously.

If Loki had control over his vocal chords he would have laughed harshly.

As if you actually care, Thor, Loki thought. No one ever cared for Loki and when they did they were snatched away coldly and deliberately. Loki knew this for certain, now.

Your birthright was to die. The harsh words reverberated in his aching skull. He didn't bother opening his eyes because he had already decided in the last second that he didn't want to be here.

Did you mourn? The memory left a bad taste in his mouth.

Thor's surprise of all things was childlike and inconsistent, sentimental and foolish.

Why would they? No one cared about Loki. They never would.

Loki could have sworn he heard a whispered "Monster" in the darkness.

He mentally shook himself, ears tuning back into the slightly wavering remark.

"L-likely not related." A novice healer, then. No master healer would stammer like that about a royal family member.

Loki huffed internally—not family member was more like it.

"Your course of action?" Odin asked with the pompous air of authority. For the shit he just pulled, Loki was resentfully amazed he had bothered to show up.

"Bedrest."

"Then his cell in the dungeons will do."

"But, father—" Thor began and was cut off at once.

"Thor, you would do best to mind your tongue. Loki is a war criminal in both parts Asgard and Midgard. He has played a hand in many an atrocity and must be treated as such." Loki heard someone's feet shuffle nervously—probably the healer. "It would be foolish to trust in him so soon after these opened wounds have yet to bleed. Your brother has always been mischievous, do not forget that. It is merely another trick to get us to waver with our doubts. Do not feed into them. He has a bed in the dungeons, he can rest there. That is all."

Loki heard the swish of Odin's robes as he made, Loki was sure of it, a grand exit from the healing rooms.

"He will be all right, my son," Frigga whispered to her eldest.

Thor seemed unconvinced.

"This doesn't feel right, mother." Loki imagined those blue eyes looking up at mother pleadingly.

"I know."

"…Will it ever?"

"No, Thor."

Another flashback rattled in Loki's skull as his chest ached at the past trauma.

He couldn't help but wish to open his eyes, to gaze upon Frigga one last time but he remained stubbornly stoic. He would not give up his façade so quickly. Tricks and lies were second nature to Loki, they were his safety net and he would not give them up for the satisfaction of his not-family's grace.

Let them think what they want.

Loki didn't care.

And with that lie settling deeply onto his shoulders, he waited for slumber to overtake him and, when it did, he couldn't help but smile.

{***}

There was a swift, hard knock on the side of Loki's bed that met with a grumbled and irritable, "Get up."

Loki thrust his arms over his face in defiance.

"No."

The chains still around his wrists clanked together, halting his hands from reaching their intended target of which Loki then growled lowly to himself.

"It wasn't a question." The gruff voice deadpanned.

There was a pause in the conversation where Loki thought maybe he'd have the upper hand, before another guard came over to his bedside and grabbed forcefully at a clump of his long raven locks.

"Now, heathen!"

Loki couldn't stop a yelp from escaping his lips before his eyes thrust open and caught the guard in question's blue eyes reflecting glee at his dismay. Loki was risen a few inches off the bed from where their hand was capturing his hair.

The guard smiled, "Not so tough now, eh?"

"Make no mistake, guard, for I am still above you." Loki snarled back in contempt.

The guard laughed, releasing Loki's hair quickly before laughing again.

"And who do you think yourself to be?"

Loki opened his mouth to answer in haste, but found that he couldn't think of a witty reply.

Who was he, now? After all was said and done, what was he other than a monster?

The guard's lips quirked into a pleased smile. "You are nothing, trickster."

The taunt danced in the air to Loki, almost sparkling in white and blue as the reality of his situation finally began to sink in.

He huffed and shook his head, trying to pretend that he didn't care, but a hint of hurt mirrored in his green eyes.

The guard, for what it was worth, unfortunately picked up on this.

"Oh? You think you're still a prince of these realms? Well, you aren't, trickster. You are nothing to this realm and you are better off without it. You're lucky the Allfather still has a soft spot for you in his heart to not abide by executing your pathetic, pale ass. Instead he's keeping you imprisoned in the dungeons. Make no mistake now, trickster, for there is no asylum for you here. We will fuck with you, as we so please, and there is not anything you can do about it. You are our bitch, now. And I very, very much look forward to taking advantage of that fact." The guard clicked his tongue between his lips and shoved Loki forwards so that he stumbled and landed roughly on his knees.

"I like to play with my food before I eat it." The guard mentioned with a sparkle in his eyes. He picked up the back of Loki's shirt easily and shoved him forwards again.

This time, Loki caught himself and began the task of walking his way towards the dungeons, a settled resignation in his steps and a worry in his shoulders that his time spent in exile with Thanos and the Other might have been a lighter sentence than his time captured now in Asgard's dungeons.

{***}

The guard with a personal vendetta against Loki turned out to be Alastor. Alastor the Bastard, as Loki liked to think of him. They had had an altercation over a thousand years ago and Alastor had not appreciated a prank that Loki had pulled on him—even though it was hilarious and clearly showed Alastor's lack of humor in any given situation.

But now, Alastor was making his revenge on Loki's treatment within the dungeons as spiteful and turbulent as possible. Most of it was harmless and Loki likened Alastor's attempts at thwarting Loki's time there as equivalent in attempts to swat and kill a fly successfully. Alastor lacked cruelty in his physical attributes but the malice in his words were what cut through Loki like a swordfish.

And, Loki for what it was worth, did not appreciate this.

One evening, Alastor had brought a plate from dinner to Loki's cell.

Loki had stared at the empty plate with a few chicken bones still on it and gazed up slowly at Alastor licking his fingers and plopping a third bone onto the plate.

"Oh, I apologize, trickster. Were you hungry?" He laughed in that loud, boisterous sound that grated Loki's nerves.

"I must have forgotten you were my charge. I'd make it up to you, but, I just don't care. You're not worth that time, trickster." He leveled Loki with a practiced glare and dropped the plate to the stone floor so loudly that it made a few other prisoners in nearby cells jump.

Loki's jaw muscles tightened in an effort to not fuel the fire. He wisely bit back his remarks, even though they threatened to explode from his cheeks. He made it as far as Alastor reaching the farthest corner of his cell before he shouted back at him:

"I must say, Alastor, pink just wasn't your color."

Alastor's back tightened and he swiveled his face to the side over his shoulder, his muscles taunt.

"For that comment, you don't eat for the next two weeks."

"Oh, what a pleasure it's been doing service with you, Alastor." Loki muttered, rolling his eyes and turning back to his book.

Before he realized it, in what could only have been a millisecond, his book crashed to the floor of his cell when Alastor roared in hate and slammed his fists onto the golden impenetrable wall. Disoriented, Loki sat up from his spot no longer on his bed but the white marble, uncertain as to how he had gotten there.

Instead of hatred in Alastor's face there was a surprised pleasure.

"Looks like the trickster's no longer in good health. I wonder how the Allfather will repent his sins?"

Loki blinked, a silence following him as he tried to think of what just happened. His mind carrying a blank, he stared back at Alastor with shock on his features.

"I-I'm fine." He lied, almost easily.

"Don't worry, Loki, your secret is safe with me." Alastor smiled before trotting away and Loki had a feeling in his chest that that meant no guard would be on his side for alerting anyone, if he even did, about his health.

This eternity was looking a hell of a lot longer than Loki once assumed.

A/N: Heyyy everyone! I finally got this chapter of this NEW story done and it only took me a bunch of months without writing it to finally make it work, ahaha. I'm heading into finals week now but this is a new story that I'll be adding to every now and then.

The concept of this piece was requested by NineCrow on , so thanks for that, NineCrow! I hope this fic will turn out to be everything that you wished for and more! As of its conception it's a Loki centered Avengers fanfic wherein Loki deals with a sudden onset of seizures. So, like a little bit of ALU but with a different ailment. And different stuff in general, too.

The title is Latin for "Seize & Capture" and Alastor's a name I found online from names meaning demonic undertones. I'm probably still too nice for our dear Loki so if you have tips or tricks to make Alastor more of the bastard, let me know, ahaha! I hope that you all enjoy this story, let me know what you'd like to see next and hold tight for coming updates for my other stories! Thanks for reading, please leave a review if you can!

Written 4.25, 12.3, 12.11.18

Typed 12.11.18