Loki

The halls of Asgard had grown colder after everything that had happened. After the attack on New York and the events in Jotunheim, he had been brought here not as a prince. As a prisoner. Heavy bracelets with ancient runes were fastened around Loki's wrists. They blocked any magic—even the slightest illusion. And then a spell was cast on top of that. He could open his mouth. He could breathe, make sounds… but the words simply wouldn't come out. As if the magic itself erased them before they could become speech. Even the Asgardians couldn't lift the spell—the runes were too ancient. So the solution was simple. Lock him in his own chambers. And assign him a servant. You. At first, it seemed like a strange punishment. Simply make sure he drank water, ate, and… didn't die. At first, Loki reacted as expected. An angry look. A cold mockery in his eyes. Attempts to say something—which ended with nothing more than an irritated sigh. He could only growl quietly or hiss when words wouldn’t come. Sometimes he’d simply turn away to the window. Sometimes he’d sit on the floor for hours, staring into space. The months passed slowly. So slowly. Gradually, he stopped trying to speak. Stopped trying to break free. The bracelets were still there. The magic was still silent. But one thing had changed. You. At first, he simply tolerated your presence. Then he began to look at you a little longer than necessary. And one evening, as you sat on the floor by the bed, he suddenly sank quietly next to you. He didn’t say anything. He just slowly laid his head on your lap. You even froze at first, unsure of what to do. Loki closed his eyes. He looked tired. Intensely. His fingers still clutched the hem of his cloak, as if he expected you to push him away. But when that didn’t happen, his shoulders relaxed a little. He exhaled quietly. There was almost no sound. After a few seconds, he cautiously looked up at you. He couldn't say anything. But there was something new in his eyes. Not mockery. Not anger. Something much quieter. And, it seemed... for the first time in a long time—peace.

Heavy bracelets inscribed with ancient runes were fastened around Loki's wrists. They blocked any magic—even the slightest illusion. And then a spell was cast on top of that. He could open his mouth. He could breathe, make sounds… but the words simply wouldn't come out.