A/N: Lots of thank yous to EvilConcubine, LilaC LioN, Guest, kakashidiot, ClintBarton-Loki'sButtWarmer, Guest, Aquarinus, Ariana Haldthin, angrbodagiantess and Guest for reviewing, and my Favers and Followers for Faving and Following :oD. Hope you enjoy.

He is still sitting there, leaning against the wall with his back to the door, lost in thought, when Thor finally extends the olive branch. Supper hasn't come yet, and when he realises it's late he experiences a brief moment of panic, wondering if he has been condemned to death by slow starvation, before it occurs to him that this is probably just some vindictive tactic meant to punish him for his insolence. The food will come eventually, of course, but not before Loki is allowed to experience hunger. However, this theory is discarded when Thor himself drops by, the scraping of bolts and grinding of stone heralding his arrival.

'I knew you couldn't stay away for long,' Loki says without looking around.

'Are you hungry, brother?'

'Nobody brought me anything.'

'I ordered them not to, because I wanted to bring it myself. Unfortunately I was delayed. Here. Eat,' says Thor. With a scornful retort ready in his mouth, Loki turns to behold his brother's work. There is buttered bread fresh from the oven, meat still sizzling from the roasting fire, stew seasoned with herbs and spices, bunches of grapes and a tankard of wine. Despite Loki's best effort to reject his appetite, it smells mouth-watering, and he can't help his gaze lingering on the tray for a second too long. Encouragingly, Thor picks up a spoon and pokes the stew about on the plate, then offers the spoon's handle to Loki, looking hopeful. Loki turns away. 'Don't you want it?'

'I presume this is your peace offering?'

'No, it's your supper.'

'And what is the prince's excuse for lavishing such privileges on a lowly prisoner?'

'Excuse? What excuse do I need? You are neither lowly nor undeserving of having a proper meal in your belly.'

'But I am undeserving of my freedom and my rightful throne?'

'Loki,' Thor cautions him in a low voice.

'Tell me. Why do you waste your time in this dank pit with me? Don't you have better things to do? Shouldn't you be off fighting more glorious wars and gracing the humans with your presence, taking your mind off your disgrace of a brother?'

'Would you rather I left you alone?' Thor growls. Knowing better than to push Thor's buttons again, Loki takes the tray without a word, placing it on his lap and starting to eat. The first bite of roast meat is almost overwhelming, and he realises this must have been taken straight from the crown-prince's own table. Thor stands there watching him eat, and says reproachfully, 'You should not have spoken of Jane in that way. Do not mention her again in my presence. Understood?'

'Yes,' Loki answers shortly. After what seems to be a long minute of internal struggling, he adds in a flat voice, 'I apologise.' His mouth cringes away from the phrase.

He can't see Thor's face, but Odinson's surprise is almost palpable.

'Well, then I forgive you.' Thor's spirits lift and he smiles; but the smile fades as he stoops and examines Loki's face. 'Are you unwell, brother? You look shaken and clammy.'

'I'm fine,' says Loki with just the right amount of sullen remorse to be convincing. He has to be careful – too much contrition and Thor will grow suspicious; too little and Thor will grow impatient.

'During our last encounter, did I…hurt you?'

Loki doesn't answer, as if he is unwilling to admit his pain. Thor looks ashamed.

'Is there something I can bring you to make you more comfortable? A blanket?'

A weapon? The key to this cursed prison? The Tesseract?

'A book or a bigger cell,' Loki scoffs.

'I'll have a servant deliver your book collection tomorrow,' Thor says solemnly, 'I doubt Father would be willing to have you transferred from this prison, but I'll try to persuade him to reconsider this arrangement.'

'It was a jest, Thor. I don't expect to see the outside of this prison any time in the next million years.'

'You mustn't give up hope.'

'Hope of what? What hope have I?'

Thor cannot reply to that.

'Is it good?' he gestures to the food, changing the subject. Loki beats down his natural inclination to sneer, and gives a single nod. Odinson looks pleased. 'I shall come again tomorrow. Farewell until then, brother.'

Thor turns to leave, and Loki plays his first card.

'Does the All-Father know you're here?'

'He doesn't need to know.'

'So you've gone behind his back. I thought so. He'll find out eventually, you know, and he won't be best pleased.'

Unexpectedly Thor crouches down, places his hands on Loki's shoulders and looks him in the eye.

'When it comes to your wellbeing, I care not for the opinions of others. I will visit you every day until you are freed – and you will be freed, even if it takes an age,' Thor hesitates, then adds, 'Brother. Your sentence may be long, but you need not spend it alone. All I want is to help you through this, if you will let me.'

With that, Thor departs, and Loki's plan is in motion.

It's subtle. It starts as a mild, ticklish rasp creeping around the edges of his speech, but after three weeks, it has deteriorated into a painful-sounding cough. Loki's throat becomes genuinely sore from the strain, and it's not difficult to feign an expression of discomfort. Naturally, he resists all of Thor's attempts to find out what ails him, but eventually permits Thor to feel his forehead and throat, checking for a fever.

'You are cold,' Thor delivers his verdict.

'How discerning of you.'

'Do your bones ache? Is your belly uneasy?'

'I'm fine.'

'But your coughing grows worse by the day.'

'Don't be a fool. I'm fine,' Loki repeats, though he must suppress the urge to laugh at the look on Thor's face. He can tell that Thor is restraining his emotions; outwardly he wears a concerned frown, but inwardly he must be beside himself with worry for his poor, neglected, suffering brother. 'As for my temperature, do you forget what I am? I am a Jötunn – a Frost Giant.'

He takes another bite of pastry. Lately Odinson has been spoiling him with pies filled with honey and the harvest's sweetest fruits and berries. In Thor's mind, progress is being made. Loki is becoming…well, not nicer, but less openly antagonistic, at least. While Loki munches, he considers his next move. Should he put on a show, and beg? Should he cling to Thor's hand, or possibly leg, and pretend the isolation and shame have broken him? He knows Thor would forgive him on the spot, and Frigga would soon follow suit. Of course she would. Ever the loving and nurturing mother, despite her disappointment in her adopted son, she cannot help but look at him with tender eyes. But Odin? Odin can be harsh. He has proved that in the past. The All-Father will be a problem.

By now, Thor has convinced himself that his brother is ill.

'This is unacceptable,' he declares, gesturing around at the dungeon. 'I will not allow my brother, a prince of Asgard, to languish in such squalor, unattended and un-cared-for. I will go to Father and demand that you be examined by a healer.'

'I do not need a healer. It is a trifling cough, nothing more. It'll pass.'

'Trifling it may be, but what if it heralds the onset of something worse? If you have an illness coming, it is best to nip it in the bud.'

'Believe whatever you want,' says Loki dismissively and wipes his hands clean of crumbs.

'How long are you going to keep me waiting?'

Loki stiffens, the wooden plate falling from his hands to clatter on the ground. Suddenly his head feels strangely light, as if it is separated from his body.

'Don't test my patience, Loki Laufeyson. I will uphold my end of the bargain only as long as you uphold yours.'

'Brother?' He dimly hears Thor's voice coming from somewhere overhead, and realises he is no longer sitting upright, but lying on his side; he becomes vaguely aware that he is shivering uncontrollably. 'Brother, can you hear me? Brother! Guards! Guards!'

Loki faints.