A/N: So sorry for the late update! I've been meaning to write this for the longest time but I kept getting sidetracked- blame me for getting Netflix and getting addicted to Heroes- sue me.

Thank you so much for my wonderful reviewers: Invader Ivy, Green Raindrop, Winged Seraph, .Uchiha, DarkRulerKida, Steph the bat 11, and Sam0728. You guys are awesome. Especially when my phone wakes me up at 6 am with a new e-mail and I see an epic review and it totally makes my day- at that point I don't even care if it's 6 am.

Anyway, Disclaimer that I normally forget to do: I own nothing and nobody and nowhere unless I came up with them. Darn.

Aglaia's hair whipped out behind her as she rounded the last corner and she could hear Steve calling out to her a few strides behind, but her mind was made up, she would talk to the prisoner. She practically ripped open the door of the medical bay, startling a nurse, but Aglaia ignored her surprised expression. She ran to the far end of the bay where her Herb Room was and opened the door, but a little more gently. Her eyes scanned the room for a black backpack she knew would be there, and sure enough, there it lay under the desk.

She walked toward the bag with a quiet conviction and hoisted it off the floor and onto the table. It wasn't heavy- only bandages and other light medical supplies lay within it. Her eyes snapped to the jars that lined the walls as she rose to examine them.

"Chamomile," she said under her breath as her fingers ran over the labels. She heard Steve's heavy footfalls as he entered the room and halted a step behind her.

"You can't go to him alone, Aglaia," Steve said sternly but Aglaia didn't turn to look at him.

"Witch hazel and . . . Ah! There's the yarrow," she proceeded to take each of the salves off their shelves, "Your concern is heartwarming, Steve," she walked over to the bag and placed each jar within it, "but I'll be fine," She finally looked at him, a small smile on her face.

She could tell he was worried, the way his eyebrows knitted together and his eyes lost their playful spark, but this was her job. She took a few steps forward which brought her right in front of him. Her head tilted slightly up as to look at him and amber was met with blue.

"Please," he said quietly, "don't do this."

She brought her hand up to the side of his face gently, but hesitated. She searched his eyes, asking for permission to touch him. His eyes held steady with hers. Her hand rested softly on the side of his face.

"Steve, I have to," she replied equally as quiet, "That man is hurting, it's my job to fix that."

He closed his eyes and sighed. He leaned into her touch and brought his own hand up to cover hers. He was warm against her cool skin, and they stood like that for a moment, Steve caught up in internal turmoil. Finally, he opened his eyes slowly.

"The let me go with you."

A smile brightened her face, and he brought her hand down from his cheek, but kept it within his grasp.

"I would like that," she said.

Everything about the room was cold and uninviting; SHIELD couldn't have made the prison any more displeasing even if they tried. Aglaia and Steve entered the area quietly; the prisoner's back was turned. Aglaia held up her hand to Steve, signaling him to halt. His eyebrows scrunched in displeasure, but he stayed still. Aglaia kept walking until she was in front of the glass prison and she watched the man inside carefully. He turned.

Her eyes missed nothing in his movements, the high-held chin, the confidence of his stance, the way his fine clothing swayed as he turned. His green eyes looked piercingly into her warm amber ones and she stood firmly. He took a few steps closer, not enough to be near the glass, but enough to have a conversation.

"You . . . I do not know of," his voice low and formal, though Aglaia could sense an undertone of curiosity. His eyes scanned her frame and she waited under his scrutiny. When his eyes came back to hers, she spoke.

"I'm the medic," she began, and her right hand came up to grasp the shoulder strap of her backpack, "I heard you got into a disagreement with some of our boys. I came to help."

He turned his head slightly, as if judging her words and her worth.

"And why," he paused, glancing at Steve whose jaw was set, "would you wish to aid me? Warring parties do not aid each other," his eyes came back to hers.

"I am not here to discuss politics or morals, the only business I have is with your wounds," she replied and added in her thoughts, "Both internal and external."

He hesitated a moment before nodding, his eyes careful and calculating. She turned to Steve who was as rigid as a statue.

"Steve," she said gently, already knowing that the man was not entirely pleased with what she was about to do, and she knew that it would only get worse, "please open the door."

His eyes softened, begging her to rethink, but she waited, eyes steadily holding his. With a sigh, he walked over to the command board and opened the door to the cell.

The air locks released and the many security systems in place each opened, allowing Aglaia to enter the chamber. After she stepped inside, his jaw hardened and he pressed the button to close the door once more, sealing her inside with the enemy.

Aglaia crouched down to the floor where she laid her bag and began to take out different ointments and bandages. Without looking up, she spoke.

"Now, exactly where are you hurt?"

"The God of Thunder slammed me against solid stone, so I should think my back," he replied bitterly and she glanced up at him. She rose, having laid out her jars and bandages. She glanced to Steve quickly, an apology in her eyes that he most likely missed.

"Well then, please undress your torso, I need to be able to see what I need to fix."

She could practically feel Steve's unhappiness as the man in front of her was stripped of his long jacket and tunic.

His skin was smooth and pale, even paler than hers, but it was a sickly pale, the kind one gets from being confined in a place without light. He was the completely opposite of his brother, Thor, and even of Steve; his body was long and lean, the sinews clinging close to his bones. He turned so his back was facing her, and she was presented with his injury. Where pale and smooth should have been, purple, blue, and yellow marred the skin as the bruising marbled his skin and long jagged cuts ran up and down his back. Aglaia stood for a moment, analyzing the damage.

"Please sit," she commanded more than asked, and it was clear she had taken over the aura within the cell. He complied and folded his long legs beneath him.

Aglaia reached into her bag, grabbing a water bottle and a cloth. She unscrewed the top and dampened the rag before turning once again to her patient.

She placed a hand gently on his shoulder and felt him tense. In her other hand she brought up the rag and began to clean his wounds. The cloth glided gently over the angry gashes and her hands moved from place to place over his back, gently rubbing the muscles to soothe away some of the pain.

Aglaia watched his shoulders begin to lower and his breathing slow and deepen, and she hoped he was beginning to truly relax a little. She turned back to her bag to exchange the cloth for one of her numerous salves. She then went back to work on his wounds. The gentle and quiet work began to quiet her mind and she found a quiet song begin to ebb and flow from her lips.

"Feasgar ciùin an tùs a' Chèitein

Nuair bha 'n ialtag anns na speuran

Chualaim rìbhinn òg 's i deurach

'Seinn fo sgàil nan geugan uain'

Bha a' ghrian 'sa chuan gu sìoladh

'S reult cha d' èirich anns an iarmailt

Nuair a sheinn an òigh gu cianail

"Tha mo ghaol air àird a' chuain""

The quiet, haunting melody floated though the room and caught the ears of both the prisoner and Steve. The language was strange and the words were unfamiliar, but the quiet melody entranced both men, and they found they couldn't keep the music from filling their senses.

"Thòisich dealt na h-oidhch' ri tùirling

'S lùb am braon gu caoin na flùrain

Shèid a' ghaoth 'na h-oiteig chùbhraidh

Beatha 's ùrachd do gach cluan

Ghleus an nighneag fonn a h-òrain

Sèimh is ciùin mar dhriùchd an Òg-mhìos

'S bha an t-sèisd seo 'g èirigh 'n còmhnaidh

"Tha mo ghaol air àird a' chuain""

As Aglaia finished gently painting the last of the slaves upon the prisoner's wounds, her song ended. The silence was calm and meditative. She turned back to her bag, reaching for the sutures when the man in front of her broke the silence.

"What is it you sing of?" he asked softly with a gentleness that surprised Aglaia. She lowered her eyes and her hands stilled and dropped quietly into her lap, package of sutures in hand.

"It's a song my mother used to sing to me," she stated. Her eyes raised and found Steve who was leaning against one of the metal pillars outside the cell. He was watching her quietly, as if she was made of crystal.

"It is the story of a woman who awaits her love, for he had gone off to sea." Their eyes held and Aglaia's mouth titled upwards slightly in a small, sad smile.

"My mother, too, would sing to me when I was young," said the man in front of her, bringing her attention back to him. He turned around so that he was facing her. His green eyes held no malice and his face had relaxed. No longer did he look terrifying and full of hatred. Aglaia could see the child he spoke of behind his eyes.

"Of all of Asgard, she is the one I regret leaving. But," he paused, "I suppose she is not my mother after all."

"Who were your parents?" asked Aglaia quietly, knowing that this conversation could turn terrible if she said anything wrong. His face went stony and he looked past her into his memories.

"The Royal Family of Jotenheim. I was nothing but a stolen relic, cast aside when I was no longer useful to the All-Father," he spat the last name with such anger that it startled Aglaia.

"I was raised to be King- I should have been king, instead of the brash, arrogant, pompous man that was my brother. But that means nothing now," his eyes snapped back to her, "I have been cast out, hated, and feared. There is no home to return to, no loved ones to care for," he turned his back to her again, "Now, please. Finish what you came here for and leave me."

Aglaia sat for a moment, pondering her options. In the end, she sighed and opened the sutures that still lay within her grasp. She finished binding his wounds and stuffed all of her things back into her bag. She rose, but turned back to the man still seated at her feet.

"There's a thing about family that I've always found frustrating," she said, and he turned toward her once again, "no matter how stupid they are or how terrible things have been, there's always at least one person willing to sacrifice everything to save you, even if you don't want them to."

The air-locks of the door squealed and the bolts clicked out of place as she turned from him and walked out of the chamber door. The various sounds repeated as the door closed behind her and Loki was left alone once again.

A/N Part 2: The song. Before I get bombarded with questions about it, it is called "Tha Mo Ghaol Air Aird A' Chuain" and yes, it is from the Brave trailer (SO STOKED FOR THAT MOVIE. I finally get a princess that looks sorta like me that doesn't just sing and wish for her life to change, this one actually DOES something. *end rant*)

For the precious few who noticed this, there was a line in this chapter that was sort of an homage to one of my favorite movies, Captain Blood (1935) starring Errol Flynn (3). The line "The only business I have is with your wounds" is parallel to a line that Dr. Blood says. Long live old movies.

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