Silent and hungry.

Hungry and silent.

No one wished to hear the traitor to Asgard speak. No one cared.

Anything he had to say was worthless, probably lies, and absolutely unacceptable. Even whimpering through the stitches sent fierce, vicious glares his way.

Eight stitches across his lips, holding his mouth shut. Nothing could come in or out.

So Loki starved, and wasted away like a hungry ghost, prowling through the halls of Asgard, his wide, pain-filled eyes roving over anyone and anything, searching for hope, for light, for a new beginning.

But it would not come. Loki was a traitor, and it was a wonder the Aiser even allowed him to retain their place among them, instead of casting him into the dungeons.

Sometimes, he wished they had. Not that he could tell them that, though.

Dejectedly, the fallen prince sat on the side of his bed, thin hands trembling from exhaustion clasped in his lap. All his life, he'd clung to the hope that one day, one day he could be better. To be up to the standard, worthwhile, something someone could look upon and smile at, but that hope was dead.

It continued to die as the hunger pangs grew stronger, and his body, day by day, became weaker.

Loki was an optimist, and a tiny, teensy bit of his mind insisted that if Thor was here, now, if he saw how emaciated and miserable Loki had become in his absence, Thor would put an end to this, Thor would loose his tongue, would feed him, would pull him into his loving embrace, and it would be just like the old days, the golden days, when approval didn't matter so much.

But the overwhelming, crushing truth of the matter was that Thor didn't care, anymore.

"In the past, I fought you with the hope that my brother was still in there, somewhere." He had said as Loki had seen him off at the Bifrost. No one else was available, at that time, so Loki would have to do. "That hope no longer exists to protect you." Thor had informed. "One step out of line, and I'll return to Asgard and kill you."

"But I am still in here!" Loki had wanted to protest. "I do still love you! I'm sorry, Thor! I truly am sorry!" But all that had escaped his battered lips was a low, muffled moan that was unintelligible to Thor.

And then he'd left.

So Loki was alone.

Hopelessly, he tugged weakly at the dark cord that ran through his lips, but, like every other time, he only succeeded in hurting himself. As blood dripped down his chin from the newly opened old wound, Loki heaved a sigh, as tears began collecting in the corners of his eyes. Look how low Odin had brought him, that he was ready to weep over his excluded fate. He deserved this. He deserved to be cast out, just like Laufey had, when he was naught but a babe. He deserved this punishment, to starve to death without even given the dignity of speaking. It was his birthright.

Still… Loki supposed it would have been nice to be just a little worthwhile. To be something more than a waste of space. Brushing away a tear, he stood up, and began his shuffle through the halls, once more. If he stopped, he started thinking, and once he was thinking, he was hungrier, and he was already so empty, like a hollowed-out shell, that it burned. It burned merely to think.

He had learned to avoid children since the grotesqueness of his ruined, hollow face sent them screaming in fright. Yes, he was a monster. Yes, he did look horrifying. But it still stung. Loki loved children, and to see them so frightened of him made him sick. Vomiting in his current state was certainly something he wished to avoid, so it was better to stay away from them entirely.

The children were the worst kind of people to encounter, but everyone was just as bad. The women would stare, mouths agape in horror, and would whisper among themselves of whatever rumors they had heard about him. The men would outright scorn him, so Loki just didn't like people.

"Prince Loki?"

Well, with the exception of Sigyn. Apprentice healer to Lady Eir, Sigyn was the only one who still showed him a glimmer of kindness. She'd been assigned to care for him, to make sure his lips didn't get infected, to tend to any other wounds he got from more spiteful warriors who would trip the fallen prince up in his wanderings, throw things at his head, or just generally cause the hell that was his life to be even more miserable.

Sigyn was the only one who still used his title.

Over the past two months, she had been the one to keep him company, to show him every kindness she could. She was simply kind, like that – she felt bad for the game the warriors killed in their hunting excursions – but it was nice, wonderful, even, to still be treated as a person by someone.

In the past two months, Loki had come to love her. Not that he could ever tell her. He simply did. When she was stressed from her work in the healing halls, he would listen to her rant about impolite patients, about annoying servants who mixed up the vails, and things of that manner. When he was happy, he would smile with her at her excitement. Sure, it pulled his stitches, but when Sigyn smiled, it was almost impossible to not. She was the one good thing left in his life.

"Wait for me!" She called, her feet pattering as she ran to catch up with him. Obligingly, he turned and waited for her as she flew down the corridor, her long blond hair flying behind her. "I've got something for you!"

She skidded to a stop before him, and dropped a curtsey, her brown eyes twinkling. Eagerly, she fumbled in her knapsack, before pulling out a worn volume, and pushed it into his hands. "It's an Alfheimian novel." She explained cheerfully. "In Opportune Time." Loki eyes widened gleefully. She didn't know it, but he'd been searching for this book for ages. He sent her a grateful look, and nodded his thanks.

Sigyn's eyes landed on something on his face, and her eyes clouded sadly. "Prince Loki…" She sighed. "You've been fussing with your stitches, again, haven't you?"

Loki blinked in surprise, feigning innocence. "What? Me? No!" His eyes said, as Sigyn gently ran her thumb along the darkened stain of dried blood on his chin.

"Come here." She shook her head gently, and, taking his hand, he led her back to his chambers, where she wetted a cloth, and gently wiped away the blood. Her eyes shone with… something. Loki couldn't tell exactly what. Pity? He really hoped she didn't pity him.

"I'm just concerned about you, alright?" She tilted her head at him, as if reading his mind. She had a way of knowing what he was thinking, even when he couldn't say it. He nodded, quirking his lips up into a small smile.

"No." She commanded, pressing the cloth to his once-more bleeding lips. "You can't do that, Highness, or you're going to bleed out."

Loki's gaze dropped to the floor in misery. At least his end would come faster, that way. No more hunger… no more scorn from basically everyone is Asgard… no more of the constant rusty taste of blood on his tongue…

"We've got to get you out of here." Sigyn breathed sadly, as she washed out the cloth. Inquisitively, he lifted his defeated eyes up to her in confusion.

"I can't just stand by and do nothing as my… as my patient dies." Sigyn explained, seating herself next to him, as concern welled up in her features. "We need to get you out of here, and find a way to get those threads out."

Loki shook his head, casting his eyes to the rug.

"Hey." Sigyn gently turned his face back to hers. "No one deserves this. They would have been more merciful to ki…" Her voice broke, and, for some reason, she looked away. "I'm getting you out of here." She stated in a low voice, her eyes fixed on a spot on the wall. "I'll find a way."

The Trickster blinked in surprise. Sigyn cared about him?

"In the meantime," she turned back to him, a shy smile on her face. That was weird. Sigyn wasn't shy. That was when she pressed a tender kiss onto his cheek. Loki's eyes widened, and he blushed furiously, as Sigyn stood up. "…enjoy your book." Was all she said, as she gathered up her things and left, without sending him another glance.

Sigyn kissed him.

Sigyn cared about him.

Despite her orders to not, Loki couldn't stop his mouth from curving into a crooked, painful smile as he stared at the closed door she had left through, his heart pounding wildly in his chest.

Sigyn was amazing…

That night, sleep evaded him. His gut writhed within him, and he could only think of one thing: food. When had he eaten last? What did food even taste like? He didn't remember. All he knew was the constant, disgusting taste of blood. Clutching his sunken stomach, he turned over in his bed, hoping the new position would promise better chance of sleep. (It wouldn't. He'd been lying like this only five minutes ago)

"Your Highness?"

Loki released a muffled shriek of startled surprise, and sat bolt upright, his eyes searching the room for his intruder. Sigyn was standing at the foot of his bed, wrapped in a very dramatic cloak, a basket clutched in her hands.

It was just Sigyn… No warriors come to have their revenge by stabbing him in the middle of the night. Only Sigyn. Pressing a hand to his chest to quiet his frightened heart, he pushed his dark hair from his face.

Wait… what was Sigyn doing in his room in the middle of the night?

"Sorry to frighten you…" She giggled, (And if that wasn't the most beautiful sound he'd ever heard…) "But I've got a plan!"

Loki, on reflex, made a questioning noise, then clapped a hand over his mouth apologetically. His voice…

Sigyn sighed. "Prince Loki…" She shook her head. "How many times do I have to tell you that I don't mind if you make noises?"

Loki hung his head. No matter how many times she said it, it didn't change the facts. Loki was not worthy of his voice. He wasn't deserving of any of her kindness, and he ought not to take advantage of it.

"You know, I like the way your voice sounds…" She went on, her soft brown eyes sparkling softly.

Loki frowned in confusion. She… liked his voice? There was no way. She was just being kind, like she had been the time she mentioned she loved the color of his eyes, or the way he opened doors for her, or how he… She complimented him a lot, come to think of it.

Did she… Did she like him? As in like like? No. there was no way. He was a monster, and she was an angel. He was a worthless, bloodthirsty beast, and she was the kindest, most loving, compassionate creature ever to grace the nine realms. There was no way she could find him… But what if she did? Without his realizing it, a flush crept up to his cheeks as he stared moonily into her eyes.

"You're thinking about something…" She pointed out.

Oops. Could she tell? Did she know how hard he'd fallen for her? In embarrassment, he nodded, and kept his eyes on his fidgeting fingers.

"Anyway, I have a plan to get you out of here!" She rushed on, her eyes alight with mischief. Right. Plan. Focus.

"It's childishly simple, really." She clapped her hands in glee. "My father's schooner is just outside the back door, the one through the kitchens. We sneak down, unnoticed, and we'll be headed somewhere safe as soon as we can."

Loki hesitated, then pointed to the stitching on his lips. Was it worth mentioning? Did it matter? Or was she simply taking him somewhere to be comfortable as he starved? What was the part she thought unjust?

She nodded. "The only reason the enchantment holds is because you're on Asgard. Anywhere else, they'll be as easy to cut as any normal string."

Inside Loki's chest, a wild flare of hope leaped up in a way that it hadn't in as long as he could remember. Things were looking up. He didn't have to die. He didn't have to have this be his reality. He was being handed a second chance. With tears in his eyes, and without really knowing what he was doing, he threw his arms around Sigyn, and buried his face in her shoulder. Strangled, muffled, yet ecstatic sobs leaked out from his throat, as tears began pouring down his face. He wasn't even sure why he was crying, he simply… was.

Sigyn gently patted him on the back, and, once he'd calmed himself, offered him her handkerchief. Timidly, he wiped his eyes, and struggled to his feet. That was when he realized his fingers were intertwined with hers.

With a mortified blush, he pulled away, and pretended to busy himself with… well, there wasn't anything to busy himself with, so he simply stared at the floor.

With a smooth motion, Sigyn glided to her feet, and slipped her hand back into his. Loki looked up desperately, confusion swimming through his eyes, but Sigyn only smiled back. "You know..." She began, but then shook her head. "Let's just get you out of here, right?" She tenderly wiped the last traces of tears from the corner of his eye.

In silence, the two of them tiptoed through the halls, and Loki fought the inexplicable urge to giggle madly as they dodged the Einherjar, and slipped out of the back door. The schooner rested outside on the grass, and Loki stared at in awe and excitement as Sigyn pressed a button on her controller to open the doors.

"Your chariot awaits, Highness." She grinned cheekily, before skipping up the gangplank. Fighting the dizziness from his malnourishment, Loki stumbled in after her, and collapsed against the wall. "Hey, take it slowly, Prince Loki." Sigyn soothed, gently lowering him into one of the seats. "I've got food in the basket, and as soon as we're off Asgard, I'll cut the stitches."

Loki flashed her a grateful glance, before the black spots welling up before his eyes took over his vision, and he knew no more.

He was awakened by a sharp pain in his mouth, and the feel of someone cradling his jaw. His eyes fluttered open to see Sigyn leaning over him, focused very hard on his lips. His lips! They felt like they were on fire! He couldn't restrain a whimper, as another one of the threads was snipped through.

"Hold still, Highness." Sigyn commanded, in her voice she used on patients, one that was impossible to refuse. "I'm nearly done."

Clenching his teeth against the fiery pain, a tear rolled down his cheek as Sigyn cut the last few threads, then pulled them from the tattered remains of his lips. She then pressed a cloth to them, to stem the bleeding. Once she had finished, the Trickster stared up at her with the same grateful shine in his eyes that had occupied his features, basically every time was around. "Loki." He blurted, his voice hoarse from disuse.

"Hm?" Sigyn hummed, holding a glass of water to his mouth. "Small sips."

"You… can call me Loki."

Sigyn cracked a tiny smile, but only held the glass steady so he could drink.

Water…

Oh, norns above, it felt so good to have something washing away the irony taste of blood, and cool his parched throat. It was all he could do to not drain the entire glass in one go. "Sigyn…" He began, once she had set down the cup, and then noticed how lovely her name sounded. He finally had the chance to tell her how he felt, to tell her that her presence made his life complete, that he would do anything to make her smile. It was the perfect opportunity. How romantic she might think it to be, for one of the first sentences off his lips was his declaration of love. "Sigyn," He began, again, even though he already had her attention.

"Yes?" She turned her eyes up to him, and he was suddenly struck with a terrible case of Stomach Butterfly-itis. Maybe he would tell her later. "Where are we going?" He wondered instead, mentally kicking himself.

Ah, yes, Loki. Women are simply tripping over themselves to get to a man who can't even say what's been on his heart for months.

"I was thinking Midgard?" Sigyn offered, yanking Loki from his self-deprecating thoughts.

"They hate me, there." He stated gloomily, as she opened a thermos of warm broth, and began to spoon it into his mouth.

"They wouldn't have to know it's you." She pointed out cheerily. "After a haircut, and some Midgardian clothes, I think you'd be unrecognizable from before." She hesitated. "I… I could visit, sometimes."

She wasn't planning on staying. Loki had a moment of panic, as he realized he'd be on Midgard, alone, and more importantly, without her. "But, Sigyn…" He blurted, catching hold of her hand at the wrist.

Her big brown eyes turned to his in confusion. "What?"

His hand was shaking, and his eyes filled with tears, and only one word presented itself to his mind. "Stay." He pleaded.

"On Midgard?" She breathed in disbelief, but, unless it was his imagination, he saw glimmer of suppressed hope, as well. Hesitantly, he nodded.

Shaking herself, she glanced down. "I can't. I have my apprenticeship."

That was a very good point. How could he have expected her to abandon her future, her career, for him? He was worthless scum, not worth the dust on her feet, and he'd just demanded that she…

"Sigyn, I…" He stammered trying to apologize. "I…"

"Mm-hm?" She prompted.

"I love you." He whispered, unsure of why he had even said it, besides that he needed her to know.

There was a simple, frozen moment, as he stared up at her, his heart in his hands, wondering if he'd said the wrong thing, once more, half wishing his face was still sewn shut, so he couldn't have ruined everything, yet again. Her features were frozen, an expression akin to shock in her eyes.

The silence was heavy. Then: "Well, isn't that a coincidence?"

Loki blinked in confusion. "How do you mean?" He whispered hoarsely, a maelstrom of apprehension and terror and hopefulness and yearning raging through his heart.

Sigyn merely smiled softly, and leaned in a little closer, as if about to share a great secret. "Because," She replied. "Because I love you, too."

All the universe stopped for half a moment as the words sunk in, then Loki's heart leapt in his chest, and he began weeping with joy. A moment ago, he was worthless, nothing, trodden down, crushed, and crumpled, but now… now… Sigyn loved him. She would not waste her time on something so menial. He was worth something, in her eyes. She loved him. She loved him. She loved him. She loved him.

But a second ago, he was a traitor, a criminal, nothing. But her love proved that there was more. This was not the end for him. She saw something in him that Odin, Thor, Frigga, all of Asgard had not seen, and that was the potential to do right.

Her love was his second chance.

"Stay," He begged, once more, and she nodded, pressing her forehead to his.

"I will."

Please note that I've never been in love, so I have no idea. No. Clue. Sorry if this is corny.

TheOnlyHuman.