Little stories of love and joy.

Loki

Title: Shadows of the Trickster

Chapter 1: Concealed Wounds

Loki sat atop Mobius' cluttered desk, his lean frame pressed against it as he absentmindedly shuffled through a stack of papers. The previous day's mission had left him with a deep gash on his side, but he had chosen to keep it hidden, not wanting to burden his companions with his own weakness. Silvy, ever observant, polished a dagger nearby, her eyes flickering between Loki and Mobius as they sorted through files.

As Loki ran a hand through his disheveled hair, his mind preoccupied with the weight of his secrets, Mobius glanced up from his own paperwork. His gaze fell upon the bloodstain that marred Loki's shirt, and the pieces of the puzzle began to fall into place. Concern etched across his face, he spoke up, breaking the silence.

"Loki, you should tend to your wound," Mobius suggested gently, his voice laced with worry.

Loki's emerald eyes flickered down to the stain, his mind racing to come up with a plausible explanation. "Yes, I suppose I should," he replied absentmindedly, his voice betraying his distraction.

Suddenly, realization dawned upon him. "How do you know?" Loki's voice trailed off as he looked down at the bloodstain, his heart pounding in his chest.

"Loki, I can stitch it for you," Mobius offered, a small smile playing on his lips, his eyes filled with genuine concern.

Loki's eyes glowed with a hint of mischief, and in an instant, the bloodstain vanished, leaving no trace of the wound. "No need, but thank you, Mobius," he replied, his tone casual as if discussing the weather. The trickster's magic had healed the wound, but he knew that without concentration, the pain could resurface.

Morbius furrowed his brow, his gaze lingering on Loki. Silvy, sensing the tension, had stopped polishing her dagger and was now watching Loki with suspicion as his eyes faded back to their usual green hue. "It doesn't take away the pain, does it, Loki?" she asked, her voice laced with skepticism.

Morbius' head snapped back to Loki, his concern deepening. Loki's cheeks flushed slightly, betraying his discomfort. "Well, yes, it doesn't take away the pain entirely. It's more like phantom pain," Loki admitted, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

Morbius reached out, placing his hand gently on Loki's stomach where the wound had been. Loki flinched at the touch, his eyes briefly reflecting the pain he had concealed. "This hurts?" Morbius asked softly, his voice filled with a mix of worry and compassion.

"That's obvious, Morbius. Look at him," Silvy interjected, her voice cutting through the tension. Loki gently removed Morbius' hand, offering a small smile. "The pain will subside soon, my friend. Besides, we have this paperwork to finish," he reassured them, attempting to divert their attention.

They nodded, Morbius still furrowing his brow, and Silvy feigning nonchalance. As they settled back into the monotonous task of sorting through files, the weight of Loki's concealed pain lingered in the air, threatening to unravel the fragile balance they had established.