10

[soldierly]

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ROUND TEN
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[FILL] Smile Smile Smile [Crossover] Sleipnir is Pinkie Pie. TW: torture, abuse. (4/8)

[anonymous]

The only light in the cell came from a tiny window directly above the door; the room was barely brighter than the darkness between worlds, and that was saying something. It was just enough to make out the walls hewn from solid rock and the crumpled figure of Loki on the floor. Pinkie set the basket down and took a deep breath before she dared to look at him. She was always so scared that one day she’d find him dead, and he wasn’t moving, and in the faint light she could see fresh blood on his back, sharp lines of torn skin. The air stank of copper. Pinkie stepped to his side and nuzzled the back of his neck, watching his back for the tiny up-and-down movements that indicated he was still breathing.

He was, and after a moment he opened one eye, the lid fluttering slightly as though it were a struggle for him even to do that much. He was looking at her but not focusing, pupils so wide and lost in a haze of pain, but he was alive, aware. That was a lot better than it could have been. ‘Hi, mom,’ she whispered, and reached for the basket again.

She took out the pain relief potion first, and pulled the cork out of the little bottle with her teeth, careful not to spill any. ‘Here,’ she said, setting it down by his head, hoping he could manage to drink it himself. Her shapeshifting had never been good enough to change to anything that wasn’t horse-shaped, so she couldn’t give herself hands and pour the stuff in his mouth for him, and doing it with hooves ended up with potion spilt everywhere even when he was lying on his back, let alone on his front like he was now. Loki’s gaze shifted to the bottle, still not properly focused, and he took hold of the bottle with one bruise-mottled hand. She had to steady it for him with a hoof, and then help him tip it all the way up once he got the bottle between his lips, but between them they managed to get Zecora’s potion down him without spilling more than a few drops.

And her potions worked fast. Even as he let go of the bottle, he was looking better - his shoulders relaxed, and his hands stopped shaking, and he managed to focus on her properly for the first time. Pinkie took out the healing potion and repeated the process. She didn’t say anything; they’d done this so many times that they didn’t need to.

His skin flushed as he swallowed that one, a little healthy pink coming back under the deathly paleness he’d had when she arrived, and after a few moments he managed to look up at her, eyes once again sharp and focused and aware. ‘Hello, Pinkie,’ he said, his voice rasping and weary, but even hearing him talk brought a smile to her face.

‘I’ve got water,’ she said, heart hitching a little at just how relieved he looked. ‘And food - celery soup, Mr Cake made it this morning, it’s really good.’ She busied herself getting everything out for him - uncorking the glass water bottle, opening the thermos full of soup and carefully pouring some into the lid. Loki managed to prop himself up on his elbows - it made Pinkie wince; some of the cuts on his back opened up again at the movement - but it meant he could eat and drink without too much difficulty. Even though he was still very obviously in a lot more pain than he wanted to admit, at least there was that.

Pinkie tucked herself against his side as he gulped down some water and started on the soup, taking it a single mouthful at a time. he was probably hungry enough to take the entire thermos without stopping, but he’d only be ill if he tried that. She was glad just to see him eating: last time she’d come he’d been unconscious, and she hadn’t dared leave anything for him in case the guards found it before he did.