Her breath hissed out between teeth at Loki's involuntary flinch, but Sif's hand was steady and sure as she moved on, taking care as she loosened each thread. She didn't pull out the remnants yet, leaving them there until she got them all cut, but in order to minimize the pain of pulling on sewn skin, she had to move a little slower than she wanted. It was an agonizing choice between efficiency and care, one that only was more evident by Loki's harsh breathing and pained reactions.

She hated hurting him more than anything.

A drop of sweat trickled its way down the side of her face, but she didn't pause in her task, focused on it with a single-minded determination that only eased somewhat as she snipped the last thread. Only then did she meet Loki's gaze, her own dark and impassive. She wasn't letting herself think or feel, not yet.

"They're cut," she murmured to the princes, her voice strained as she set the shears aside. "I just have to remove the thread."