It was extremely late at night. Sorrow would have been asleep hours ago, and Loki was counting on this. He had to wait only a few hours before his magic was replenished enough to heal himself. But as he limped into the room, blood blossoming from his armor, he felt a pang of lightheadedness. He groaned, clutching his throbbing side.

His back faired no better, several cuts from a sword on his back, a deep cut on his side, his ankle not broken… perhaps sprained. He was sure he had several bruises on his chest. There was a small cut on his neck, one on his cheek, and one on his shoulder. But besides this, he was fine.

Fine.

He didn't need to go to the healers. They would only laugh at him, and he couldn't allow anyone to see him like this, like a wounded dog. Thor had gone straight to the healers, having always been praised for his battle wounds. But for Loki, battle wounds were a sign of weakness. Injuries in battle meant he hadn't been skilled enough, quick enough, to take out his enemy.

Weakness.

So, he peered around corners as he made his way through his chambers in the dark, trying hard not to trip and fall as his ankle pulsed with pain, his joints aching with exhaustion. It only grew worse as he realized Sorrow was probably asleep in their bedchambers, and he wouldn't be able to change quietly in his current state, much less expose his injuries. He knew he should trust her. Trust her with keep his pain a secret. She had shared her pain with him many times, showing complete and absolute trust. Devotion. Baring her soul to him.

Yet he was just words. When it came to physical injuries, he couldn't bear for her to see him. See him weak. He had to be strong for her. Not he weak for her.

His efforts to remain quiet were shattered as he heard her voice. "Loki?"

Loki slowly turned to see that she had been sitting in his seat by the fireplace, a book had dropped to the floor by her side, most likely having slipped out of her hand when she fell asleep. Loki sighed, straightening, trying to look fine in the darkness that shrouded the room. "Yes, love?"

Loki watched Sorrow's shadow near him in the darkness of their chambers. He fidgeted, trying not to back away. "I was worried. Thor arrived hours ago, saying that you were around the palace somewhere."

"You needn't stay up for me, Sorrow. You are not my mother." Loki didn't mean to snap, but he did. She stopped in her tracks, Loki breathing silently in relief, willing her to leave him be.

"No… I'm your wife. I have a right to stay up for you. I didn't know where you had gone. I thought you had collapsed somewhere or gone off on another adventure without… without…" Sorrow stuttered to a stop, peering at her husband in the darkness. She took a step towards him, Loki snapping at her.

"For Bor's sake, calm down, woman!" Loki hissed at her. "Go to bed, get some rest. I am home now, you needn't stay up any longer."

Sorrow was too close. Loki felt like a trapped animal. She couldn't see him. She couldn't. But another wave of dizziness caused him to sway, and he knew that he would not reach morning, not without magic to heal himself. He would bleed to death, and the last time he had bandaged himself up was years ago at the hands of Thanos.

Sorrow saw him swaying. It could be from exhaustion, but he was acting too strange. She walked over to the fireplace, lighting it, the warm glow spreading through the room. She turned to Loki, gasping as she saw the blood that covered his hands and face, blood that was still running. "Loki!" She ran to him, helping steady him as his balance finally gave out and he tipped to the side, ready to fall. She heard Loki sigh as she helped him half stumble, half limp over to his chair.

She pushed the book off his chair and helped him sit down. Loki collapsed onto the chair with a pain-filled groan. "Loki? What happened? How can I help?"

Loki silenced her. "I am well, Sorrow. As soon as my magic returns, I'll heal myself. Go to bed. You have seen enough."

Sorrow took Loki's hand, holding it to her chest as she gazed deeply into his eyes. "You need help, Loki. You need to see the healers. Now. You will not live long enough to get your magic back."

Loki wrenched his bloodied hand from her grasp, snarling. "I am not seeing the healers! I will be fine until I get my magic back! Besides, you know nothing of injuries!"

Loki regretted his words as he saw a little bit of hurt creep into her beautiful blue eyes. She flushed red, standing up, rubbing her arm uncomfortably. "I do know of injuries… I've treated many lacerations and broken bones... on others too."

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting off the massive headache that was pounding in his skull. He was too weak to stand, else he would have wrapped his arms around her and asked for forgiveness. Just the thought of holding her in his arms made him look up at her, seeing her begin to walk away, face still flushed with embarrassment. He remembered a time when she wouldn't have reacted at all, would have taken the words and added them to a list of insults thrown at her.

"Sorrow…"

Sorrow halted in her tracks, glancing back at him.

"I apologize. That was uncalled for." Loki murmured.

Sorrow simply nodded, a thin smile on her face as she slipped out of the room. Loki face-palmed. Curse his pride! He tried to stand, but tripped, falling over, not able to get back up, his head pounding. He felt the sticky, crimson liquid leaking out of his side and back. He pushed himself against a wall, leaning his head back. His eyes started to drift closed, when he felt a freezing cold splash over his head, soaking his face. He gasped, eyes darting up to Sorrow, who held an empty cup.

"Sorry. You need to stay awake."

Loki groaned as she helped him stand, Loki leaning heavily on her. She helped him into the bathroom, assisted him in sitting inside the empty bath tub. Loki looked up at her, watching as she set down a basket of bandages and ointments. He thought, drearily, that's where she had gone off to. To get medical… stuff…

Sorrow began unclasping his armor, slowly slipping it off his person and casting it aside. Loki's eyes began to drift closed, and she smacked his cheek lightly, Loki shaking his head to try and clear his mind and wake up. He felt like a little child being bathed by his mother. But Sorrow didn't fill the tub with water. She filled a bucket with warm water, slowly patting at his chest to find the wound. His skin was so caked in blood that she couldn't immediately find it.

But once she did, she let out a small breath of surprise. It was deep. Almost as deep as a bull whip's strike. It was just above his hip on his right side. Her blue eyes filled with worry, seeing all the blood that had escaped. She felt his forehead, gasping at how his skin burned.

She worked quickly, cleaning his skin and wounds, carefully, gently, digging the dirt out of the wound. Loki hissed and gasped, groaning as his head lolled from side to side. Sorrow's small, deft hands stitched up his wounds. As time went on, Loki's strength began to come back, his godlike body rejuvenating itself, extremely slow, but still making progress. Sorrow could tell he was going to be in bed for a few days. Even if his magic was able to come back on time, he would kill himself exhausting it again.

She helped him out of the tub, Loki leaning heavily on the wall. He felt clean, Sorrow having gently soaped his body, working all the blood off his skin and hair. She had him sit on a stool, telling him that she had to bandage him up, apply pressure, that it might hurt. Loki nodded, watching as she picked up the bandages, wrapping them around his torso, skillfully securing them into place, exceptionally tight.

She worked as fast as a battlefield medic. She was done within the hour, having completely cleaned him and fixed up any major injury she could find. Loki's temperature was already going down, strength filling his limbs once more. He watched Sorrow, her face mere inches from his as she dabbed at the cut on his shoulder, disinfecting it. She moved to the cut on his neck, Loki hissing at the spreading pain the antibiotics caused. Sorrow smacked his shoulder lightly, telling him it didn't hurt that bad.

Loki couldn't help but feel amused at this. Himself, to full of pride to go to the healers, possibly almost killing himself. Sorrow, patching him up so that he wouldn't have to wound his ego.

Finally, she moved up to the cut on his cheekbone, brushing his still slightly damp hair out of his face. This close, he could see every detail of her face. The shadows under her eyes, the few strands of hair in her face, the crease of her brow as she focused on cleaning his cut, the way her eyes moved around his face, looking for another injury. The experience in her gaze. The fact that she had done this many times.

Sorrow pulled away, putting the dirty swabs and empty bottles of disinfectants in the trash. She packed up all the extra supplies, tucking them away in a cabinet.

Loki stood up, feeling the dull buzz of pain throughout his body. Sorrow took his hand, helping him to the bedroom, having him lay down on his stomach. Loki groaned as he carefully stretched out on his side of the bed, feeling the bed dip as Sorrow sat down next to him. She held his foot in her lap at the end of the bed and began working some sort of angelic magic on it, as the pain in his ankle disappeared, replaced by the most heavenly sensation that could only come from one of her massages.

Loki fell asleep.

When he woke next, it was high noon. The bed was empty next to him, Sorrow having most likely woken hours ago. He had always thought he had been an early riser. But even though Sorrow was no longer a slave, she got up at five in the morning every day, cleaning, sewing, cooking, doing anything to be moving. Sometimes she even went and worked with the slaves until higher classes began waking. She would help them scrub floors, bring them decent food that she had cooked herself, make sure that most of their medical needs were taken care of, giving them medical supplies if she herself couldn't immediately help them.

Loki remembered what had happened last night, slowly pushing himself out of bed. He felt almost no pain as he went to the bathing chambers, his limp having disappeared. He saw that his bandages had been changed. He wanted desperately to take his bandages off now, but thought better of it as Sorrow would have his hide for doing so without her permission.

He went into the kitchen, where delicious smells were emanating from. Sorrow was chopping some vegetables on a cutting board, a pot of boiling soup next to her on the stove. She looked over at him as he entered, smiling.

"Good afternoon, husband mine. How do you feel?"

Loki sighed, sitting at the table. "Almost like new. Are you sure you don't know magic?"

Sorrow laughed, scraping the vegetables off the cutting board and into the soup, mixing it. "Not unless you count practice as magic."

Loki grinned. "Well enough. Am I allowed to take these bandages off?"

Sorrow gave him an exasperated look. "Already? I know you heal fast, but I had assumed you would heal slower without your magic."

"I am a god. That must count for something."

Sorrow turned off the stove. "Fine. We'll take them off while we're waiting for lunch to cool."

Loki stood up, feeling no pain at all now. In the bathroom, Sorrow cut away the bandages, checking his tender skin. She wiped away dried blood and rubbed some sort of lotion into his skin, nodding in approval. But before she could go back to the kitchen, Loki wrapped his arms around her from behind, kissing her neck. "Thank you, Sorrow."

Sorrow smiled, craning her neck and kissing his bare shoulder. "You're welcome. I would say any time, but I'd prefer if you did not do this again."

Loki let go, spinning her around, her dress twirling after her. "But it was so fun." Loki teased.

Sorrow sighed, knowing that he was teasing her, but couldn't help feel her heart wrench. She blinked away tears, burying her face in his chest.

"What is the matter?" Loki asked.

Sorrow looked up at him. "You almost died… you wouldn't have made it until morning, no matter what you say. You would have bled to death on our chamber floor, and I wouldn't have been able to do anything about it."

Loki twisted his hand into her hair, tipping her chin up to meet his gaze. "I… I apologize. I did not want to go to the healers. That would mean I was too weak to outmaneuver my enemy. My pride has caused you pain yet again… I promise it will not happen in the future."

Sorrow nodded. "I have just one more question… Did you not trust me?"

Loki glanced away, ashamed. "I have never let anyone see me in such a weak state. And I knew that if you saw, I would not be able to play it off as nothing with a quick remark. I trusted you too much… I knew that you would help me until you strung yourself out on a limb, and I did not want to wake you with such a mess as myself."

Sorrow wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him briefly before walking away. "We better eat the soup before it gets cold."