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The All-Father and his Queen stood in the partially rebuilt Observatory, awaiting their sons' return to Asgard.
For days he had watched from Hliðskjálf as his estranged son, back from the dead and half mad with the horrors he had met in the void, had warred upon the mortals. Warred, and been ignominiously defeated. Now Loki would face Asgardian justice. Odin's justice.
Odin had always known his adopted son was dangerous. It had been clear when the boy was still a child and his mind had proven to be not only a quick one, but a devious one. Odin had hoped that holding Thor's straightforward nature up as an example might have inspired the younger to emulate it, but perhaps Loki's nature was too strongly wrought to be changed.
Centuries ago he had rejoiced to find that Loki had a knack for magic. He had been so disappointed that his own son had no aptitude for it, but the Norns had granted him a foster son to train in the ways of seiðr. But as he entered manhood, Loki's magic had increased swiftly, frighteningly. By the time the boy's first century was done, Odin knew that his original plan, to put Loki on the throne of Jotunheim to preserve the peace between the realms, could never be. Loki was too powerful and too devious to be trusted. To be controlled.
Now, as always, it fell to Odin to render Loki harmless. Throughout the days that he had watched his sons battle on Midgard he had pondered his strategy. He knew he could not bring himself to execute his own child, never mind that Loki was not the child of his blood. He could imprison him, but Loki would find a way out in time. And then what might he do, bursting with magic and anger, feeling himself betrayed, with no more stake in reining himself in?
Loki might do... anything.
Odin's efforts to carve out a place for Loki at Thor's side had seemed to succeed for a long time, because the brothers fortunately had great affection for each other - or at least, they had. But when everything had fallen apart, Loki was no longer willing to accept second place. Odin's efforts to teach Loki a code which would keep his slyness in the realm of mischief rather than mayhem had likewise appeared successful until Loki had learned the truth, whereupon he had furiously rejected every principle his false father had ever taught him.
And now, Odin's son by birth was bringing his foster brother home muzzled and chained and injured, and Odin had one chance, only one, to divert Loki from the path he was now walking. One chance to protect the Nine Realms from his depredations, from the consequences of Odin's errors.
Odin was not certain he could do it.
The moment was approaching. A shimmer appeared in the center of the room and resolved itself into his sons, both heavy-hearted and weary.
Frigga moved at once to embrace her younger son, as the elder watched sadly. She had always tried to make Odin show their younger son more favor than he did. He should have heeded her.
Odin studied Loki's face, trying to find some clue. Loki looked sorrowful as his mother's arms clasped him. But that meant nothing; Loki had always adored his mother. Even were he to become as evil as Laufey or Malekith or Thanos, Loki would still be sorry to grieve his mother.
But she could not stop him. She had loved him too well and he took her affection for granted. It was his father's love he had striven for, at last disastrously. When he had killed his own blood father and thousands of his fellow Jotnar, it was Odin's approval he had been seeking.
Frigga at last had to release Loki. She grasped Thor's arm and watched her husband and her adopted son with trepidation.
Loki kept his eyes stubbornly on the ground. He did not kneel or even bow his head. Even behind the muzzle, the sullen defiance was clear in every line of his body, in the stiffness of his neck and the rigidity of his face. He was still full of rage at his foster father for all the centuries in which he had been so obviously the less favored son, in which all his efforts had been futile, and for the desperate attempt he had at last made which Odin had not accepted.
Since learning that Loki was still alive Odin had done nothing but deliberate on how to contain him. After much pondering, he had formed a plan. He thought it was a wise plan. It might fail for all its wisdom. Yet it was his only real hope of stopping his adopted son's new career of villainy. He must make the attempt.
He stepped closer. He could see the tension in Loki's shoulders at the approach, but Loki did not give any more response than that. He did not need to; Odin knew his adopted son. The boy would not look at his foster father, would not risk his eyes showing apology or worse, a plea for mercy. For forgiveness. Loki was prepared to endure execution or torment with as much stoicism as he could, or to stew in a cell, harboring his resentment, until he found a way out and could strike back.
"Loki," Odin said very quietly. Still Loki refused to grant him any reaction.
Odin lifted a hand and the shackles fell from Loki's wrists. Before Loki could recover from his surprise, the muzzle likewise fell to the floor in pieces. That may have been the only thing Odin could possibly have done to startle Loki into looking at him.
Seizing that instant of surprise, Odin grasped Loki's shoulders, looked at him for the barest of seconds. "My son," he whispered, and then crushed him close. "I thank the Norns you are alive."
Loki began to tremble in his arms. Whatever he had expected, it was not this.
Odin moved back to look at his prodigal son. There was a too-familiar look on Loki's face, eyes wide and tearful, lips slightly parted in hope and anxious fear. And there was incredulity too, the belief that this could not at last be what he had so long wished for.
By the Nine, what had he done to the boy?
He had seen this look on Loki's face before. He had failed to say the right words at a precarious moment like this, and three realms had paid the price. Perhaps no words now could mend anything, but he would try. He had spent days considering what he was about to say, weighing each word.
Odin willed every bit of affection he had ever felt for his adopted son into his eyes.
"My son. Can you give me another chance?"
For an eternal instant Loki's soul and the tranquility of the Nine Realms hung in the balance. And then Loki dissolved into tears and allowed his foster father to pull him close to shed those tears on his shoulder.
And thus was Loki defeated.
There must still be penalties. Reparations. Lighter than were perhaps called for, and all the realms would curse Odin for it. But he would know as they did not what he had spared them.