[quicklog: thor and loki, asgard's dungeon]
[It was the little things that made being king strangely satisfying, though his earlier doubts still clung like dirt to the ends of his cape. Watching the guards part in front of him and stand at the ready to protect his life. Walking freely into the prison that had once been intended to be his eternal home.
He came face to face with Thor wearing no crown, but still bedecked in the bright armor of state, as was his right. A simple wave of his hand dismissed the guards to posts at the end of the hall. He was smiling. Ear to ear, almost.]
I like standing out here better, I think. [He stood no more than a foot from the golden barrier that penned his brother in.] Are you very comfortable?