Loki sucked in a breath. He shook his hand, but at the same time he gripped his mother's hand, as if afraid she might fly away. It felt a concern indeed. Better to lance this particular festering wound. He'd already had to speak the words once, and broken the seal, so to speak. This was perhaps the last time he would confess, and then be free of it one way or the other.

"It was my fault, mother," he finally said. His shoulder hunched. "When that... thing looked at me and refused to release me." What monster had the Kursed seen, that it had feared to give him his freedom? Hah, perhaps it was right to fear, it had known he would destroy it in the end. "I... I told it how to leave the dungeon. The best means to do so, what would put it by the generator room." A vague thought that the destruction it wreaked would release him, though Odin had proved a more canny gaoler than that.

He shook his head again, no longer able to keep his voice so steady, the anger and hatred that always came so readily to him these days shaking his words, but for once it was directed primarily at himself. "It is because of me that the monster was able to reach you and Jane."

Hah, Jane, who he once might have loved. Not in Asgard, though. He'd never even met her until the deed had been done there. And probably for the best, that.