You mumbled something incoherent and shrunk further beneath the covers when you felt the weight of the mattress shift.
"(y/n)?" Loki's voice started to pull you from the dredges of sleep.
"Mmm... Loki?" You opened one eye and stared up at him. "You're here? In my chambers?" You were bleary and barely thinking straight yet that thought sparked some awareness. Your face was flushed. Little Loki, who was sitting on the pillow next to you, twittered at the prince irritably.
"Yes, Little Swan. Although not for inappropriate reasons, I assure you. I came to bring you these." In his arms were your things from the woods. The cloak, your sketchbook, and the silver bracelet he'd given you.
"Oh, oh!" You beamed, and it seemed to light up the dark room. Loki was reminded once again how much he missed that smile of yours. You were still his beautiful secret.
But no longer quite a secret.
He would keep to himself though, as much as he could, even though you were surrounded again by the society you once fled from forever.
He placed the items on the bedside. You were falling asleep again, still with that content smile upon your face, missing wings momentarily forgotten.
"Please stay this time," you murmured into the pillow, voice muffled. "You keep leaving me with those palace people, stop it you." Then, you rolled over slightly, leaving a space. How could he refuse such an offer? He had no choice, he told himself, not if he wanted to keep you happy. So he climbed in, lying atop the covers. Little Loki flew off in disgust at his pillow being taken and perched on the windowsill, preening and glaring at the interloper.
You were still shorter than him, and as he made himself comfortable, you scooted backwards again, colliding with his chest. Your head fit perfectly beneath his chin, and his arm somehow found itself draped around your waist. Your wing was folded in and tucked between the pair of you, and he marveled yet again at the softness of the dark feathers. The sweet scent of the forest still clung to you even days later.
~~~
Conflicted wasn't even close to describing your thoughts when you woke. On one hand, you were very cozily snuggled up and it was wonderful, but he was a prince! This was improper. What would you say? What explanation could you offer for your sleep deprived requests?
Even putting Loki aside, you didn't know what to think of the entire situation. The thundering prince was to blame, yet you couldn't muster the energy to feel much anger towards him. He seemed all too eager to 'make it up' to you and be done with this fiasco.
The arm wrapped around your middle tightened, pulling your closer still to the prince.
"You're thinking too loudly, Little Swan," he murmured in your ear, his breath brushing lightly against your ear. You huffed and rolled over. Before he could voice his complaints at losing your presence, you were already up and walking around the bed to the balcony.
He sat up, watching your movements. He was still in dayclothes, while you wore a nightgown from the palace. He noticed the back was ripped, much like your dress from the forest had been, to make room for your wing.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"Just... admiring the view." He could hear something different in your voice, and he followed you. You stood at the edge of the balcony, gripping the railing tightly.
"Something is wrong." Not a question. His voice was soft, almost tentative. "(y/n)..."
You choked back a sob, and whirled to face him. Tears were streaming down your cheeks. "Will I ever fly again?"
It was a simple question, with a million different answers. He could lie, or promise you a thousand solutions. He could avert his eyes, he could turn away. He could sing of revenge and retribution in your name.
He, the liesmith, the silvertongue, the trickster, could do any of those.
Instead he spoke the truth.
"I don't know."
The look in your eyes was enough to break him. Pure loss, and realization. 'I will never truly be free again.'
You sunk to the floor, wracked with grief. You felt his arms around you, picking you up like you were made of glass, and carrying you to the bed again. He set you down, but didn't join you this time. Instead, he sent you one last fleeting glance and departed, leaving you to grieve in private.