The dungeon.
Loki watched Thrór through a golden barrier, a meaningful look in his eyes.
Though he was imprisoned, he was clearly treated far better than the other prisoners. His clean, bright private cell had tables and chairs, fruit, a sofa, a bed, books—everything one could need. Anyone who did not know better might have thought he was there to work.
"Thrór, after all this time, you're only coming to see me now?
What are you here for? To gloat? To mock me?"
"I'm here to ask for your help."
"What?" Loki said sarcastically. "What did you say? Is there still something the great God of Thunder can't do in Asgard?"
"You should know what happened in Asgard," Thrór said calmly. "Mother specifically ordered that you be kept informed about the outside world."
"Yes! Thanks to Frigga.
The Dark Elves invaded, Asgard is under threat, the Bifrost has been shut down, and so on and so forth." Loki spoke lightly, then moved closer to the barrier and smiled at Thrór. "The Aether has parasitized that Earth woman you love. Her situation does not seem very good."
"So I need your help," Thrór said seriously. "And you will help me."
"Why would you say that?"
"Mother was attacked by the Dark Elf who infiltrated the dungeon. If Aaron hadn't arrived in time, Asgard would be preparing Frigga's funeral."
At those words, Loki's smile vanished instantly. "They didn't tell me that."
He regarded Odin with awe, Thrór with envy, jealousy, and hatred, and everyone else with lofty disdain.
If there was anyone in all of Asgard whom he respected and cared about, it was probably only Queen Frigga—the woman who had treated him as her own son.
"I don't think Mother would have wanted you to know either, unless she died."
"What