"You're a talented little thing, aren't you?" He said with a smirk on his face
I sat kneeled in front of his highness, tending to a deep slice on the bottom of his foot.
"Quite talented, I am," I agreed sarcastically, "Perhaps, I could show you the full range of my talents if you stopped talking."
"Oh yes, I would like to see that," he said, chuckling.
I rolled my eyes, continuing to blot the wound. I found it hard to believe that the Prince of Asgard, no matter how murderous he was, was truly this uncouth. In my heart, I knew that this was all a facade. Loki was merely trying to get me scared, uncomfortable even. It's what he thrived on as the God of Mischief. But I knew better than to play into this act of his.
"Do you always talk to ladies like this?" I asked lightly, looking up at him as I prepared a needle and thread for his foot.
"Not always, just the ones I find particularly pleasing to the eye," he said.
"Oh, of course," I said sarcastically as I nodded, pricking his foot with an initial stitch.
He flinched and took a sharp inhale.
"Hold still," I said firmly, continuing to blot and stitch.
As I did my work, he studied me, being quiet since the first time I met him. Chills ran down my back as I felt his icy blue eyes examine my every mood. I wondered, was he simply curious about my work...or was it something more?
Cautiously I stitched his foot. Nine stitches in total. Gently, I bandaged it as well, dousing the fabric with potions to accelerate the healing.
"Now, you must try to not walk on your foot, it may open up again, and then I would-"
"Have to come back?" he entreated.
"Well, yes."
"So I suppose I must walk on it, to ensure you'll come and visit me again," he said matter-of-factly.
I just laughed and shook my head, "I suppose if that's your goal then yes, but I truly doubt the tantrum that caused this wound will be your last."
"I'm impressed, dove," he said with a chuckle, "you've already picked up on my....flare for the dramatics."
"Because it was so hard to miss," I said, raising an eyebrow at him, "Perhaps, Loki, they should change the conditions of your Godhood to include becoming the God of Drama as well."
Standing up, I continued, "Now, your highness, is there anything else I can do for you today?"
"I have nothing in mind that would require your healing, however, may you keep me company?" he asked, "you see, these guards...are quite silent and I'm afraid I've grown rather bored of re-reading the two books I have been granted."
"You desire my company?" I asked.
Immediately, I realized something at that moment. Perhaps I was in the presence of a God, even a murderer, but behind all this, I was simply standing in front of a man. A very lonely man at that.
He nodded simply, seeming too prideful to truly admit it out loud.
"Alright then," I said curtly, putting down my healing kit. I suppose I couldn't say no, prince or otherwise. I had not one apathetic bone in my body which caused me to not sympathize with Loki. Despite all he had done, I could understand his pain and the desire he had to not be alone as he dealt with it.
"So, my lady," he said, leaning forward and looking up at me with his crystal blue eyes, "tell me, what makes you, you?"
"Well, I'm the eldest of 8 daughters, my Father is Iwald-the man who retrieved you from Midgard, I work under Eidith as um a healer..." I trailed off, sinking to a kneel in front of him. I never spoke about myself, it felt strange trying to do so.
"You do realize, you spoke nothing of yourself, just your relations to others, darling," he stated with a cocked eyebrow, "I want to know about you, had I wished to speak to any of your sisters or your employer, even your Father, I would have asked them here myself."
Leaning forward, he hooking a long cold finger under my chin, making me look up at him.
"Now," he said, smiling softly, "I suppose we can try again, tell me about you."
I furrowed my brows, leaning away from his touch.
"I can tell you one thing, Loki," I said sharply, "I'm not your toy. One scream and every guard in the palace will be here within seconds to chain you up again. Treat me as a plaything and I can assure you, this will be your fate."
He merely laughed, "Oh I see, Lady Sigyn, we're much more alike than you think."
"How so?"
"You're no pacifist, darling. You're not fearful of me and you certainly are not fearful to make me angry," he said, leaning back in his seat, "And my dear, you certainly are a hothead."
I scoffed which only made him chuckle. I had only made his point stronger.
"Perhaps we are alike, however, there's one key difference," I said, "I don't have to be here. And I certainly am in no desperation to talk to you as you are to me."
I stood up swiftly, grabbing my medical kit.
"I'm sure I shall see you again, my prince," I said, raising a brow at him as I grabbed the door.
"Until next time, my dear," he said, smirking at me.
I rolled my eyes before swiftly exiting his cell.
Until next time, my prince.