In the center of a large, yet empty chamber was a young man.

He was bound on his knees, his arms stretched up behind his head.

His cries of pain nearly silenced by a silver muzzle.

His green eyes full of unshed tears.

His head fell forward and his face was obscured by long raven locks.

A man stood behind him, a cruel looking whip in his hands.

In the blink of an eye the whip cut through the air with a loud crack.

A muffled scream and a arched back.

Another crack and another.

He lost count after the sixty-fifth or so lashing.

He whimpered and thrashed.

His lithe frame trying to get away from the pain.

Then everything stopped.

His green eyes darted around the room, unsure.

The lights in the room were brighter suddenly.

He blinked twice.

A hand on his cheek, warm, soft and gentle.

"Hush little brother, it's okay."

Golden hair and sea blue eyes swam in and out of his vision.

His wrists were unchained and he collapsed into strong, awaiting arms.

Kisses pressed to the top of his head.

Hair stroked.

The muzzle was removed but he remained silent.

"Brother, say something, please," was whispered into his hair.

But he couldn't.

He couldn't get his mouth to form the words,

His throat raw.

He could feel tears running down his cheeks.

His back was sticky and wet with what could only be his own blood.

Every breath and sob sent a shock of pain through his lithe frame.

But he didn't care.

Couldn't care.

All he knew was his brothers arms and the sobs he couldn't stop.

Hands on both sides of his face, raising his eyes to the others face.

"Loki, you are my brother, nothing changes that."

Another whimper passed his lips and his eyes darted about the room.

"Look at me brother."

Green eyes found blue.

"Brother?"