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[dothelokimotion]

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[thirtythird]

[The relief is immediate. The puff of his breath comes in an easy rush across the line.]

Everything's wonderful. [Comparatively.] A bit better today?

[dothelokimotion]

[ there's a little huff in response. ]

Yes. I heal fast but I had a fair amount of . . . bleeding to deal with.

[thirtythird]

Thank goodness you've put a stop to it. Bleeding out is terribly last season.

[And thank goodness there had been so many hands--Loki's included--to stop him doing the same.]

You are resting, darling?

[dothelokimotion]

I am. Thor was . . . insistent.

[ more than that, thor was concerned and panicked. loki can be dense, but he was somewhat cognizant of how difficult this was to thor. if the roles had been reversed, loki would have been an absolute nightmare to deal with. ]

How are you feeling?

[thirtythird]

[A soft, understanding hum. Of course Thor had been insistent. Of course Thor had been gripped by some version of the awful well of panic that had clung to William's own heart (hard to imagine, really, how painful those depths must be).

But they're still here, and in far better states of repair.]

Still a bit... disoriented, I suppose. [When the adrenaline had faded, the crash of registering everything properly had turned into a confused fog (easy to understand, really; like waking up after escaping with his life for the price of his arm).] Quite difficult to parse the truth from the fever.

[dothelokimotion]

[ loki chuckles wryly. ]

The waking up was always the most difficult, in my experience.

[thirtythird]

Far stranger than usual.

[Even now, after all, there were still days of waking up with the distinct impression this had all been a dream.]

This morning I could have sworn I remembered you dragging me through a fire with your face painted blue.

[dothelokimotion]

[ oh. the silence that follows stretches on for a little too long. loki finally clears his throat. ]

Not painted. You saw my . . . true form.

[thirtythird]

Oh?

[The faintest pause of consideration. This is a matter of delicacy, he knows, underlined by the long quiet from Loki.]

Do... you mind, darling?

[dothelokimotion]

No.

[ a beat, grudgingly. ]

Maybe. It's not something I'm terribly fond of. And I doubt anyone enjoys being subjected to it.

[thirtythird]

[Almost something worth leaving. Almost not something to dig at while they're both exhausted. Then again,]

It made me feel quite safe, you know.

[dothelokimotion]

[ a dry chuckle. ]

You were also suffering from blood loss and a woozy head. I think if you saw it with fresh eyes, it would not seem so . . . comely.

[thirtythird]

Any easy time to feel rather unsafe, I'd say.

[Still.]

Besides, I don't know that one really wants a protector to be less than fearsome.

[dothelokimotion]

Yes, nothing like a demonic blue creature with blue-red eyes and a touch that can wither gods to strike fear in the hearts of people.

[thirtythird]

It's what the Picts were after, hm? And... [A brief pause; the little absent quiet of consideration over which words to place in what order.] ...you're always you, in the end. Yes?

[dothelokimotion]

. . . I try to be.

[thirtythird]

You've shown it, love. Time and again.

[dothelokimotion]

[ he sighs. ]

Perhaps. I've gotten better at recognizing my true form and untangling the lies I was told but . . . I've never grown to love it.

Not even Thor has seen it.

[thirtythird]

[Another pause, where the impulse to reach out lives and has to be quashed by the distance between them.]

Would it help, do you think?

[dothelokimotion]

. . . I don't know. I don't know what I'll see in his eyes.

[thirtythird]

Something to ponder, perhaps.

When you're proper well. Not now.

[dothelokimotion]

Mmm. It's not important.

When we're properly recovered, I'll show you my spoils.

[thirtythird]

You're important, love.

[Always important to underline.]

Anything particularly fetching?

[dothelokimotion]

[ oh. that's . . . nice to hear. important. it's warming to the soul. ]

Plenty of gold and jewelry, some strange gemstones and a lot of alcohol.

[thirtythird]

[His laugh isn't quite right, too tired at the edges, but it's very much rattling its way down the line.]

Good man. [His voice is still warm as, at least.] Strange how?