I have been encouraged to update, so update I shall! Enjoy the next chapter, guys. :)

When Loki awoke the next morning, he was pleased to find that for the first time in recent memory, he felt well-rested. He could not recall having any nightmares while he slept, just a strange dream about a frozen sea. Thinking back, no details came to mind. Loki stretched his arms toward the ceiling and tried to yawn before remembering why he needed to curb that particular reflex. His left shoulder felt much better, only a slight ache in the joint. He glanced around the room and found the water jug sitting on his bedside table again. Pouring a glass, he used the reed to take refreshment and attempted to shift his legs. He grunted in displeasure when he felt his ankles catch on the metal rings that bound them to the posts. Dammit. Still stuck in this bed. He looked hopefully for the silver key that would release him, but this time it was missing from the tray. He hadn't really expected the Jotunn girl to be foolish enough to leave it for him, anyway.

Several hours later found Loki lying flat on his back, tossing and catching the water cup repeatedly for want of anything else to do. Now that he was no longer in agonizing pain or afraid for his life, a far more banal emotion had taken over – he was bored. He'd seen no sign of the Jotunn girl all morning, although his ears had picked up a few rustles from the other rooms that suggested she was moving about, probably cleaning. She had left her book of creation myths on the chair by his bed, but his shackles wouldn't allow him to reach it. Not that he cared about primitive Midgardian stories anyway. He just wanted something, anything to take his mind away from this prison. Loki had tried asking Thor to bring him books from the palace library, but communicating which ones he wanted and where they could be found was incredibly difficult when one couldn't speak. Nor could he write, most of the time. The god of mischief clenched his teeth and thought of the quill Thor had taken from him yesterday. It was true that he could not be trusted with sharp objects, but couldn't his brother see that Loki was utterly lost without his words? There had to be something Thor could do to help him.

Finally, when the silence weighed too heavily on him, Loki gripped the water glass as though it were one of his daggers and threw it as hard as he could at the opposite wall. It hit with a satisfying crunch and shattered, pieces raining down like hail. For several moments afterward, his chambers were silent again and Loki squirmed restlessly, not sure exactly why he'd done that.

"My prince."

His eyes found the sitting room doorway, where he could barely see the Jotunn girl peeking her snowy head around the corner. She surveyed the destroyed water glass and sighed. "Is there something you need?"

Loki's mind flashed through all of the things he needed – a quill, food, his voice, more books, a way out of this prison, something to do – and he flinched and groaned softly. The Jotunn girl's eyes sharpened as she stepped into the room. "Are you in pain? Can you show me where?"

Loki glanced at her wearily before dropping his head. She stood there for a long moment before taking his silence as dismissal and retreating back around the corner. Loki made a muffled noise of protest and surprised himself by pointing at the Midgardian book on the chair. The girl's face softened imperceptibly. She crept across the room and retrieved the book, then inched carefully toward him, holding it out with one arm and blocking her face with the other, as if wary he might hurl it right back at her. Loki frowned and shook his head, pointing at her and then at the book. She blinked for a moment, then seemed to comprehend what he wanted. She settled back into the chair and flipped open to the table of contents. "Perhaps my prince would like to hear a story from a place called India? It tells of a great shelled creature called a turtle, vast enough to bear all of Midgard upon its carapace…."

This pattern continued for the next few days. On the second day, Thor finally showed up to free Loki of his chains, and the god of mischief was again permitted to roam his chambers. He didn't try any more overtly violent methods of getting rid of the Jotunn girl, aware that the resulting chaos would give the guards another excuse to bind and injure him. Indeed, she seemed determined to stay out of his sight, a task which she was very good at. She moved as quietly as an animal in the brush, her presence only discernible from the clean rooms and open windows she left behind her. She seemed to like the windows open, which did not bother Loki. What bothered him was the fact that he was bored. He languished in his chambers, staring at the walls, until he grew so irritated with the silence that he deliberately knocked over the nearest piece of furniture and waited. Without fail, the noise would bring the Jotunn girl prowling into the room, making sure not to get too close to him. She would right the furniture and give him a look as though he were a particularly stubborn cat before asking if he needed anything. This usually ended with her reading to him from the book of creation myths while Loki relaxed on the sofa. He was perfectly capable of reading to himself, of course, but since he'd been a child Loki had always loved being read to by someone with the proper voice and rhythm. His mother was his favorite reader, of course, but he also liked Thor's deep voice, which was probably why he found the Jotunn girl's reading acceptable. Her voice did not have the ringing bass of his brother; it was distinctly female, yet low and dark as if she were always speaking at midnight underneath a new moon. It made the stories she read sound primordial, as if they were just rolling off the lips of their first tellers back in the dawning age of humanity.

Sometimes she left his chambers and he honestly had no idea where she went. The guards did not seem to give her any trouble in regard to coming and going, (Thor's orders, no doubt,) but he couldn't imagine the people of Asgard were very welcoming to her. He was amazed when she returned one day and offered him a cask of ambrosia and a fine silver bell, which she had apparently bought at the market. "You may ring this when you wish to summon me, my prince." She placed the items in front of him and backed off, casting a dubious look around the battered room. "Now please stop knocking over the furniture."

The ambrosia was heavenly, and Loki suspected she had consulted with Thor to find out his favorite refreshment. What a strange thought, this little Jotunn savage going out of her way to please him. It was the first time in over a year that he had been able to taste anything besides water and blood. Loki refused to show that he was pleased, but he did make an effort to stop upending the furniture when he wanted to call her. It was more fitting for royalty to use a bell when summoning their servants, anyway.

Thor came to visit him and Loki tolerated his presence, so long as he did not talk about his stupid Midgardian friends, the Avengers. Loki was still convinced he could have taken the Earth easily had he not been crippled by the Chitauri's hive mind weakness. Unfortunately, the Jotunn girl was rather keen to hear stories of their "adventures" on earth, and Thor, much like Loki, could never resist a good audience. Since the younger god could not speak, however, she only got to hear Thor's side of things, which Loki punctuated occasionally with vehement shakes of his head and frustrated grunts. Having his lips sewn shut was a maddening ordeal, especially when he had to sit there and listen to Thor bumble his way through describing the events of the heli-carrier and SHIELD. Loki had meant to be captured by them, and Thor had not gone into the Hulk's containment unit on purpose; Loki had tricked him and dropped him from the sky because he was an idiot. At least they would never find out about Loki's humiliating encounter with the green beast; he would take that story to his grave.

"There must be something we can do for my prince to help him communicate more efficiently," the Jotunn girl observed one day after Thor had said something particularly idiotic and Loki was practically shaking with repressed insults. "I think he really wants to tell you off right now."

"My brother's sharp tongue is legendary." Thor gave him a fond but sad smile, and Loki glared back. "Being without the ability to speak is truly devastating for him. It was the most severe punishment Odin could think of as retribution for his crimes."

Loki pulled reflexively at his stitches and kicked the baseboard of his bed, which they were all sitting on. The Jotunn girl was folded on the headboard, and she surveyed him briefly with those slate-grey eyes. "He can still write, as long as his hands aren't bound."

"Not without the Allfather's permission," Thor explained, causing Loki to twitch and growl. "Odin has ordered all sharp and potentially dangerous objects to be kept from him, including writing implements and shears. You weren't here back when he would use them to slice at his face. It was horrifying." Thor shuddered, and Loki remembered endless days of being chained to this bed after each incident, seen by healers who erased the scars but did nothing to quell the agony inside his mind. Thor shook his head slowly. "I would worry for your safety if he were left unsupervised with something he could use to hurt you. He stabbed one of his servants in the eye with a wall ornament. He slashed another's arm open with a quill."

"Loki did not actually remember the first incident, and only recalled vague details of the second. He had been too lost in a haze of rage and terror to even register what he was doing.

The Jotunn girl glanced toward him. "He has broken a lot of things in the short time I've been here."

"Yes, you see, it is far too dangerous to –" Thor sputtered to a halt as Loki fixed him with a pleading gaze and leaned slightly toward him. He hated having to resort to these tactics, but Loki was not above leveraging his status as the little brother if it got him what he wanted. And now he wanted, no, needed a way to get these burning thoughts out of his head before the pressure cracked his skull.

Thor ran a hand through his golden hair and sighed. "Loki, you know you cannot –"

"Mmmmnnhhh!" Loki protested, gripping Thor's shoulders and shaking him as hard as he could, which was not very hard at all. Listen to me!

So then, a means of writing that does not involve sharp or potentially dangerous objects," the Jotunn girl mused aloud as Thor wrestled his distressed younger brother off him.

"Yes, that would be – Loki, stop it – ideal." Thor pinned Loki's arms to his sides and glanced up at her. "Do you know of anything like that?"

"I will look into it," she declared evasively, lowering her legs from the headboard. "May I offer my lords some refreshment?"

Loki did not like the idea of placing something so important to him in the hands of a stranger. He wanted Thor to do it, but his brother clearly couldn't see his way around the Allfather's restrictions. Loki padded sullenly after them into the kitchen and accepted a glass of ambrosia from the Jotunn girl. Thor started talking to her about the markets around Asgard while Loki watched silently, taken by the strangeness of the scene. This was the same creature whom his brother had once reveled in the thought of slaying, and now here he was happily recommending local shops to her. Didn't Thor remember their childhood, the stories, and his own ill-fated trip to Jotunheim which had resulted in his banishment to Midgard? Why was he pretending this little savage wasn't what she clearly was?

When Thor wasn't around, Loki spent a great deal of time pacing, brooding, and staring out the windows. He had tried climbing out on more than one occasion, but the sills were lined with ensnaring runes that afflicted his body with a painful paralysis if he crossed their threshold. From his rooms, Loki could look down over a small section of the main courtyard separated from him by several adjoining walls. On any given day, he saw lords and ladies strolling in the sunlight, servants hurrying about with parcels under their arms, and all manner of hounds and birds and winged horses and any other animals kept by the courtiers for amusement. Loki's only amusement was in glowering at them and imagining the havoc he'd wreak upon their pretty lives if he had his magic restored to him.

Sometimes, if he timed it just right, he could glimpse the distant figure of his mother as she walked toward her gardens, surrounded by her attendants and various noblewomen. It was considered a great honor to be invited to accompany Queen Frigga on one of her afternoon retreats, and many court ladies openly vied for the privilege. He would watch as she passed, accounting for all the faces within her circle of favor. It was an old habit; knowing who stood where on the complex and intrigue-laden social ladder of the court had served him well all his life. Not that it would do him any good now; Loki was quite certain he no longer had a place on that ladder from which to manipulate the other players. Still, his tired eyes always lingered on his mother's glossy hair and warm smile until she disappeared from view, leaving him empty and alone.

One day Loki was leaning against the sill, staring after her as a soft breeze brushed his face. Winter had given way to a sun-filled Spring and the flowering trees in her garden would be budding. He barely heard the rustle of footsteps behind him, followed by a low voice. "She's very beautiful."

Loki turned around to see the Jotunn girl standing by the sofa, holding a slim book with strange designs on the cover. "Your mother." She nodded toward the open window, but Loki glimpsed a spark of pain flash through her dark eyes like a meteor across the night sky. She broke eye contact and turned away, not expecting a response from the mute prince. As he watched her leave, Loki experienced a strange desire to call her back to him. He wanted to ask what her new book was about. He wanted to find out where she'd come from, and why she had left that place to come here. He wanted to know if she really intended to help him find some means of communication to replace his desperate need to speak. But of course, it was no use trying to say any of that. The words were sitting heavily on his tongue, pressing against the inside of his mouth, but he couldn't get them out. Loki ran his fingers over his tightly stitched lips and squeezed the sill with his other hand until he felt his bones grating against the wood. He stayed like this for a long time, hunched over the window with hands shaking as he felt the pressure inside his head build into a searing migraine. I need to scream.