"Loki?" I ask quietly as I slip into the god's chambers. The thick curtains are drawn against the window so that not even the red-orange setting sun of Asgard can be seen in the room. The only source of light is a strange green glowing orb that hovers over the middle of the room, casting strange colours and shadows everywhere. Loki sits on the edge of his bed, leaning over as he rests his forearms on his knees. He doesn't even look up as I enter, closing the door lightly behind me. "I haven't seen you in a couple of days, what's going on? You haven't come down for meals, or anything…"

Slowly, I pad my way closer to him, my light shoes silent on the dark marble of Loki's floor. He yet again doesn't respond to me, only staring at the ground, hunched over. The tall man I knew was nowhere in sight as I gazed upon the shriveled version of him. He looked weak and damaged both physically and mentally, as if he were completely spent, exhausted. "You can tell me anything that happened, Loki. You know I'm always here for you."

I finally reach him, settling myself on the bed next to him, my hand light on his shoulder. His dark hair forms a curtain around his face and all I can really see of him is the slow rise and fall of his chest as he inhales and exhales without a sound. "If you don't want to tell me that's fine, I can leave if you like…" I start, trailing off slowly. This finally gets a reaction from him as Loki looks up at me. His eyes are haunted and empty, the green shine of mischief in them has disappeared, leaving them cold and unfeeling. There are deep shadows under his eyes that seem to make his face so much more sunken and pallid. His prominent cheekbones, a feature of him I had always admired, only made his face look even that more sick, but when I reached his lips is when I began to tremble.

The first thing I noticed was that his lips and the pale skin around them on his chin and under his nose were smeared with blood that looked a sickening black shade in the green light of the orb above us. But as I looked closer I could make out the thick and unruly criss-crossing lines that marred the flesh over his lips. In an instant the answer came to me as I mentally identified the zig-zagging lines. They were thread, thick, black, waxy thread that had been sewn into Loki's lips with heavy handed stitches that gave no attempt at being neat. I openly gasped at this, my eyes bulging at the sight of it. Could this be real?

Tentatively I reach out a hand and I know Loki suspects what I'm going to do, though he doesn't shy away. I cup my hand around his sunken face, letting my palm warm his skin for a few moments before lightly running my thumb along the stitches, trying to keep it from trembling as I do so. I watch as Loki winces but doesn't push me away, his empty green eyes never leaving my face. The stitches feel coarse and stiff under the flesh of my thumb, caked with blood and wiry with the strength of the string. Tears prickle in my eyes as I let my hand fall, instead grabbing onto Loki's with it.

"Who did this?" I whisper. A tear rolls its way down my cheek but I ignore it, my eyes trained on Loki.

Before me an image blurs into life, transparent, yet still visible, much like a coloured ghost, though I can instantly recognize who the person is, even before he starts to speak. I gasp in horror as the words I can't bear to hear tumble easily from the mirage's lips.

"This needed to be done, Loki," Thor tells his brother. The mirage moves as if holding Loki down. "And you know exactly why." I can't help it as I let out a strange and strangled yelp at the man's words. "You shall no longer tell lies…"

The image of Thor slowly dissipates into the air, leaving the room completely silent except for my shattered breathing that I can't seem to get under control. My entire body is shaking and the tears are coming down my face freely now. "H-how could he… Your brother… H-he did this to you…" My sentence fragments are evidence enough at my complete and utter disgust and terror at the situation. I don't even think of what I'm doing as I pull Loki into a tight hug.

"He is a monster," I whimper into Loki's ear. I'm surprised as I feel his arms curl around me, his fingers gripping tightly at the fabric of the back of my jacket. "And he shall never live this down, my Lord."

Its a few seconds before I realize Loki too is shuddering. It soon dawns on me that the shakes I feel coming from the god aren't shudders at all, they're sobs, silently wracking his body as fresh tears stream down his face as well. Loki is scared, probably just as scared as me. Because even though I could not even fathom this happening to me, just the thought of my lips being sewn shut makes me shake with fear, he has experienced it. Although I know that if I ask Loki if he is afraid, the answer will always be the same, lips sewn shut or not.

He will lie.

But I will accept it.