“Ah.” The syllable was almost inaudible, her eyes wide and unfocused. When Loki fell silent, she blinked, and a few tears rolled down her face. Her fingers flexed.
“Yes. I’ll carry that. He held your mind, didn’t he.” It wasn’t even a question; her voice was low and harsh, and something sharp edged it.
“He did,” Loki muttered simply. It was strange, opening up his most vulnerable secrets to a near stranger, and yet she felt very familiar to him. He felt lighter in her presence already, like she truly had lifted away his troubles.
“I am most certain now that the mind is capable of reaching far greater levels of pain than the body.”
Her hands curled into fists, and every trace of pleasure or happiness was wiped from her face. “Such a truth, from the god of lies.” A sharp, short breath, and she relaxed, all over. “Will you … let me look?”
He raised an eyebrow, turning to meet her eye to eye.
“Look?” He felt far too exposed at this point. There wasn’t enough wine on Asgard to make Loki Laufeyson feel comfortable exposing his secrets.
Her eyes were level. “Such things often leave behind … marks. Scars, where the hooks were set in. Places in your heart that ache, for reasons you cannot remember; things once you loved but cannot now. I can find them. Ease them.” A quick smile flickered over her lips. “Or I can just try to distract you.”