Eventually Loki stopped keeping track of how many days the Jotunn girl had been here. She was here now, and it was clear she was determined to stay. Overall, Loki discovered she was a quiet, diligent creature, and if she hadn't been a savage he might have even found her presence acceptable. Loki didn't know how she managed it, but she seemed to always be doing something. She kept his chambers clean and ensured that his clothes were sent to be laundered. She brought him fresh water several times a day and drew him a warm bath every evening. She didn't talk much, but she read to him whenever he wanted and gave him healing salve to ease the pain his stitches caused. She was still careful to stay several feet away from him and never turn her back, often pacing around him in a wide half-circle when she needed to pass as if he were a dangerous animal. This annoyed Loki, but he could not tell her to stop. He couldn't tell her anything, and the torment having all his thoughts trapped in his head sent him into wild fits of rage sometimes. This usually resulted in him hurling things at her, which sent her running out of the room with her hands over her head, only to emerge from hiding several hours later to fix whatever destruction he had wrought. Sometimes these incidents resulted in him being chained to the bed for long periods, which was its own form of restless torture. During these times she inexplicably treated him like a sick child, arranging pillows to keep him comfortable and reading stories until he fell asleep. This sort of behavior stung Loki's pride, but it was better than being ignored like he was nothing.

In fact, the Jotunn girl displayed several habits that struck him as very odd. For one, she didn't seem to have a set time or place for sleeping. His chambers had a servant's bedroom adjoining the kitchen, but she seemed to regard it as just another room to clean. He regularly found her sleeping curled up in the windowsill, on the sofa, on top of the cupboards, and once, in the linen closet. She could stay up for several nights at a time and then, randomly, she would finish her chores and fall fast asleep in the middle of the day. She was very hard to wake up. Loki tried once, out of sheer boredom, and it took pushing her off the sofa and throwing a jug of water in her face to finally rouse her. Once she awakened, she was so cross that she growled at him and hid for the rest of the day.

Her ability to hide from him was another thing that unnerved Loki. He had dwelt in these chambers nearly all his life, knew every nook and cranny from floor to ceiling, and yet he still couldn't find her when she didn't want to be found. She moved so quietly that she could be in the next room and he wouldn't know it until she poked her head around the corner. It was like living with a semi-feral cat, one that cleaned instead of making messes.

Even so, she and Thor were his only links to the outside world, and he could not depend on Thor for everything. One day, after his brother had been absent for a week (leaving Loki feeling both depressed and in fierce denial of said depression,) the god of mischief decided to approach her with an important request. He thought long and hard on how to accomplish this without the ability to speak and no implements to help him write. Finally, he concluded that he would simply have to improvise and rang the silver bell he carried in his pocket. He didn't hear her approach, but a flash of blue alerted him that she was standing in the doorway behind him. Turning, he met her slate-grey eyes as she gazed up at him. "Yes, my prince? Do you need something?"

Loki nodded and tugged irritably at his stitches, cursing them inside his head. The girl took a small step into the room. "Don't do that. You'll hurt yourself."

Loki gestured toward the open window leading to the courtyard. The girl peered carefully over the sunlit grounds. "What is it? Something out there you want me to see?"

He shook his head and pointed to himself, then made a circling motion with his fingers above his head. The girl gazed upward in obvious confusion and Loki growled and pressed hard against his sealed mouth. "Mmmmnnnhhh hhhhh nnggggghhhh."

The Jotunn girl stared at him sympathetically, which was not what Loki wanted. She shook her head and told him gently, "I don't think trying to speak is going to help you much. Perhaps you could spell it into my palm, like you do with your brother sometimes….?" She offered her azure hand and Loki immediately smacked it aside with a grimace of disgust. Allowing her to tend his chambers was one thing, but actually touching her – he shuddered at the memory of the cold, bluish tinge that made his skin look so alien. The girl gave him a deadpan stare and crossed her arms. "Alright then, how do you propose to help me understand what you want?"

Loki groaned and pulled at his hair in frustration before glancing suddenly toward the kitchen and striding through the doorway. The Jotunn girl followed several steps behind and ducked instinctively when he picked up a leftover jar of flour from the counter. Instead of throwing it at her, he overturned it upon the unused table, causing a billowing cloud of white to envelop them. Ignoring her gasp of horror, he grabbed a ladle and used it to spread the flour evenly across the table. As the dust began to settle, he used his finger to write in small, elegant script: I want to see my mother.

The Jotunn girl stared at him in clear displeasure. "I just cleaned this kitchen."

Loki grunted and pointed insistently at the message. She read it and sighed, brushing flour dust from her tunic. "All right, I understand. How does that work?"

Underneath his first message, Loki wrote another. You have to tell her.

"Me?" The girl raised her silvery eyebrows. "You expect me to just walk up to your mother, the Queen of Asgard, and tell her – well, anything?"

Loki was well aware that Frigga's attendants were unlikely to allow a Jotunn savage anywhere near their Queen. Still, it was his only chance to get the message through to her. He wrote, My mother will not harm you if you come bearing a message from me.

"Why can't you ask your brother?" she inquired, causing Loki to growl lowly. He used his palm to smooth out the flour so he could write a new message atop the table. He will not do it for me.

"Why not?" she asked curiously.

Loki snarled and slammed his fists upon the table, causing a smaller cloud of dust to billow up. "Mmmmnnnhhhh!"

"All right, I understand. Calm down." Her voice took on a soothing cadence as she circled the table. "I will tell your mother you wish to see her."

Loki took several deep breaths and wrote, Go now.

"Yes, my prince." She bowed slightly and left through the main door, still wiping flour off her bluish skin.

Dusting off his hands, Loki crossed the room and sat down heavily by the counter. He was pleased with himself for finally finding a way to give commands, as inefficient as it was, but success was far from assured. Frigga's attendants would no doubt attempt to drive the Jotunn girl away on sight. Or she could simply claim to have passed the message on, knowing that he could not talk to anyone else to ascertain the truth. Even if she did get the message through, there was still the chance that his mother might not come to him. In the beginning months of his captivity, watching him tear himself and everything around him apart like a madman had been very hard on her. With a twinge of guilt, Loki recalled her tear-stained face the last time he had seen her, before Thor had wrapped his arms around her and led her away. He clenched his fists and bowed his head, resting his forehead against the cool countertop. He did not want to hurt his mother. She had been kind to him all his life. Kind, even though he struggled to please his father and lived perpetually in his brother's shadow. Generous, teaching him her magical abilities and comforting him when they were scorned by the court. Being apart from her was painful, especially when she was so near he could see her.

It should take only an hour at most to pass on a message, yet the Jotunn girl was absent for the rest of the day. Loki paced and stared out the window until the sun had left the sky and there was nothing to see. Then he sat in his bedchamber and stared at the door leading out into the palace. Around midnight there was a brief scuffle outside, followed by the door swinging open and allowing the Jotunn girl to practically fall into the room. She slammed it in the guards' perplexed faces and leaned against the wall, breathing raggedly. Her tunic was rumpled and torn, and her hair had gone from looking like a snowdrift to a blizzard. She straightened up when she spotted him, and gave a curt nod. "I have done as my prince has asked." Then she turned and stumbled wearily into the sitting room.

Loki stood and followed her, unsatisfied with this limited report. From the doorway, he watched her perform an ungainly faceplant into the sofa cushions, then lie still as someone fallen from a great height. He crossed the room and settled cautiously into the chair beside the sofa, expecting her to leap up and run away, but she did not move. He knew she could not have fallen asleep that quickly, but she made a good impression of it. He noticed a bruise blossoming on the ridge of her left shoulder, as if someone had grabbed her or struck her. Instead of flushing red or brown, it was quickly becoming a dark, swollen purple. Gingerly, he reached out to touch it and withdrew at the last second, curling his fingers away from her injured flesh. He set his hands solidly in his lap and leaned against the chair back, staring into the black void outside his window. Time passed in slow, steady breaths. Once he glanced toward her and caught her peeking up at him through a sliver of an open eye, before she closed it again and he looked away. He stayed in the chair beside her until they both fell asleep.

He realized only later that it was the first time she had allowed herself to be vulnerable around him.

The following morning Loki was awoken by the sound of heavy boots on the floor in front of him. He barely had time to open his eyes before he was seized by the arms and hauled upright into a cacophony of glinting armor and blaring voices.

"Keep his arms pinned, don't let him fight –"

"Give me the chain –"

"He's a feisty bastard, don't underestimate him. He can do a lot of damage –"

"Get his legs –"

A frightened cry rose in his throat and was smothered behind his sealed lips. Loki struggled and twisted about as his wrists were forced into shackles and a thick chain was slung around his waist and connected to them, leaving him defenseless. He was shoved against the sofa and forcibly bent at the waist while his legs were restrained in a similar fashion. His immediate reflex was to gasp for breath, but he couldn't get his mouth open and there were so many hands holding him and the terror was so sharp it hurt –

Loki felt his body go limp as he slid to the floor, the figures around him withdrawing and letting him drop. He tried desperately to curl into a defensive position, but the chains were so tight he could barely move. Gazing upward, he saw an unwelcome cloud of leering faces gathered above him. His eyes darted from one to the next, trying to figure out what they were going to do to him. A broad-faced man whom Loki recognized as the one who had dislocated his shoulder stepped forward and grinned. "Good news, my lord!" he exclaimed, his voice a mockery of reverence. "Our gracious Queen has commanded that you be brought to visit with her in her gardens this afternoon."

Loki blinked in surprise and tried to sit up, his worthless efforts eliciting sniggers from the guards. His mother….wanted to see him? But then why….?

"As you know," the swarthy guard continued, "your father the king has given orders that you are never allowed to leave these chambers without being securely restrained. So we thought we'd get that out of the way first and leave you to get comfortable until our Queen deigns to see you."

Loki glared indignantly, hating their condemning stares. Why were they doing this to him? Ah, yes, because they can. He squirmed and pulled at the stitches on his mouth until his silent struggles were interrupted by a loud, angry voice. "You didn't have to ambush him like that! You could have hurt him! You're supposed to –"

Loki turned his head to see the bluish figure of the Jotunn girl emerge from a shadowy corner, pointing accusingly at the guard's face. No sooner did she reach him than he drew his sword and slammed the hilt into her stomach, causing her to choke as her face contorted in pain. She hit the floor with a heavy thud and Loki snarled at the man, hating him, hating them all, wanting to rip them apart with the strongest spells he knew and mount their heads on pikes and gouge out their loathsome eyes for good measure –

The guard sheathed his sword while the others gave grunts of approval. "Savage filth like you shouldn't dare speak to true Aesir men. Be grateful I didn't use the sharp end this time, beast." Then he turned on his heel and strode from the room, followed by his fellows. Loki could hear them muttering and laughing amongst themselves before the heavy entrance door swung shut. He gritted his teeth and strained to pull himself off the floor, but he only managed to roll onto his side before he reached the limit of motion his chains allowed. Moaning softly, he let his head fall against the hard tiles and stared helplessly across the room.

"M – my prince…."

Loki heard a shuffle of movement behind him and turned his head enough to see the Jotunn girl crawling slowly over to him. She kept one hand pressed to her side and eased the other underneath his shoulders, guiding his upper body to rest in the surprising warmth of her lap. Long blue fingers gently smoothed his hair out of his eyes as she grimaced in pain and leaned heavily against the sofa's back. "It's….it's all right now….they're gone. They're gone now. Are you hurt?"

Loki shut his eyes and turned his face aside, thinking that he barely remembered a time when he had not been hurt in some form. He didn't realize his hands were shaking until he felt a pair of smaller, colder ones squeeze his fingers gently. Any other time, Loki would have pulled away in indignation, but right now his hands were chained and there was no one else to see and if he kept his eyes closed he didn't have to see it either. That frigid change which slowly overtook his body, travelling up his veins and past his elbows. Loki didn't know why, but he squeezed harder and the bitter cold felt good.