Nobody-But-Yourself
Morning came too soon, and you awoke to Loki stirring beside you, the grip of sleep leaving you both. You’d managed to escape dreams that night, and you rolled over to thank Loki, only to find her staring at you, her long dark hair streaming across the pillow.
“Good morning, love,” she hummed, a smile playing at her lips as she watched you stretch.
“I’ve got a girlfriend today, I see,” you said sleepily, rubbing your eyes. Loki glanced down at herself, running a spare hand through her hair.
“I guess you do. I’m sorry, that must be a touch odd for you. Usually I am more masculine, but today…” she trailed off, waiting to see your reaction, wearing the same expression on her face as she’d had when she’d revealed her Frost Giant form to you.
“Today you’re my girl.” You leaned over to press a kiss to her lips, revelling in the way she tilted her head up to meet you. “Loki, a person’s soul is always more important to me than anything else. I like you for you, not because you’re a man or a woman or whatever.”
“Was that your first time kissing a woman?” Loki asked as you lay back down on your pillow, her grin stretching from ear to ear.
“A lady never kisses and tells,” you replied, a smug smile spreading across your face when you heard Loki make a sound of annoyance.
“Old-fashioned,” she snipped, getting up to admire her appearance in a mirror. “I’m just glad my beautiful neck art is still here.”
She was still shirtless, as she had been going to bed the night before, and you flushed when you realized the scratch marks you’d left were there too. You pointed this out to her and she preened happily, obviously elated with the way you’d marked her.
“I can’t believe you healed yours when my mother came by,” she complained, walking back over to the bed as you sat up, plopping herself down on your lap, draping her thighs over yours as she faced you.
“Loki, I didn’t particularly want your mother, the Queen of Asgard, knowing we’d fucked.”
“Please, as if she couldn’t tell.” She lowered her mouth to your neck, her breath hot against your skin. “Oh well, I suppose I could just leave more, so that everyone in this palace knows you’re mine.”
You attempted to protest, but it died in your throat as she pressed her tongue against your windpipe, always the tease.
“Tell me, little death,” Loki said, her voice husky with desire, “have you ever gone down on a girl?”
“N-no,” you managed in between pants, wide awake now.
“Well then.” She flicked her hair over her shoulder. “I’ll teach you.”
It was noon before you and Loki left her room, her fingers laced through yours as you strolled through the hallway, a loved-up grin on your face. If Loki wasn’t careful, you were going to fall irrevocably in love with her. Already she consumed most of your thoughts; her body was your temple and her words, your creed.
She was in a fiery mood today, far more excited than usual as she skipped through the hallway, dressed only in a massively oversized green shirt and black corset overtop. Her eyes flashed every time they landed on your neck, and although you were slightly embarrassed at the markings, it was worth it to see the way her tongue darted out to lick her lips.
“Sister! Y/n!” Thor found the two of you in an alcove where you ate your lunch while Loki did her best to teach you Asgardian. You were beginning to get it, having learned quite a few languages in your day, but Thor’s expression promised something slightly more pressing.
“What is it, you simpleton?” Loki asked, putting the book she’d been using to teach you away.
“Heimdall has sent a message to the palace, concerning the two of us.” He handed Loki a piece of parchment. It was written in Asgardian, and Loki passed the paper to you.
“Give it a go,” she said, and you looked at her inquisitorially, glancing down at the array of symbols when she gave you a nod.
“Thor Odinson, Loki Laufeydóttir, and y/n have…that’s all I got.” You handed the parchment back to her and she rolled her eyes.
“Have been requested to return to New York at the soonest possible convenience. Tony Stark has stated, and I quote, ‘how the hell do we get in contact with those Asgardian bitches? We need them back’.” Loki folded up the paper. “Ah, yes. Tony Stark really is one of his generation’s great orators.”
“We must return at once,” Thor declared. “Stark must have finished the new building.”
“In what, two days? That doesn’t seem likely.” You were sure Stark had plenty machines to assist him, but building a whole structure in two days?
“I presume he has purchased a pre-existing building,” Thor rationalized. “Either way, we must go.”
“Wait,” Loki said, raising a perfectly manicured nail. “Y/n, would you like to go back to Earth?”
“What?” You looked at her. You’d expected her to refuse to return, not this. “Yeah, I’d like to go back to Earth. Not that Asgard isn’t nice, but it’s not where I need to be right now.”
“Think this through very carefully.” She rested her hand on your thigh, leaning forwards to stare you in the eyes properly. You noticed Thor noticing Loki’s physical contact with you, but your paramour seemed entirely unconcerned.
You realized she was thinking about your safety, thinking about the man who had threatened you. It was sweet of her to be concerned, sweet of her to think it through when you’d entirely forgotten, and your heart fluttered slightly. Despite all her jabbing and teasing, Loki really did care.
“Yes, Loki, it’s fine. Let’s go back.”
The three of you appeared in a field back on Earth, staring up at a giant compound. It seemed like Stark really really loved big buildings with lots of windows. At first glance, it appeared to be divided into two main buildings, one that appeared to be a training facility with a Quinjet sitting out front, the other building slightly hidden by trees that surrounded it, looking more like a building suitable for living in.
Heimdall had placed you in front of the latter building, leaving your trio to stare at yourselves in the reflective windows, knowing full well the Avengers inside could probably see you, despite the fact you couldn’t see them.
Proving your point, Tony Stark opened up a door a few feet away from you, gesturing for you to come inside. “Speak of the devils! Or gods, I guess. We were just talking about you!”
“We know,” Thor said, the first to follow Tony into the new building. “That’s why we have returned.”
“You can hear people talking about you on Earth?” Bruce, lounging on a sleek black couch, asked as you walked inside.
“Of course not,” Loki snapped, ignoring the way Bruce flinched at her biting tone. “We may be gods but we’re not omniscient.”
“Yes, that’s Heimdall’s department,” Thor agreed, in much better spirits than his sister.
“Thor, ladies,” Cap nodded to each of you in turn. “Welcome back.”
“What was so pressing?” You asked. “Travelling through the Bifrost isn’t as easy breezy as these gods make it look.”
“Yeah, it looks like a real struggle,” Nat said sarcastically. “Going to and from a magic kingdom.”
“Thor’s email insinuated he would like to play a more active role in designing his room.” Tony adjusted the position of a chair, moving it over a few inches. “I got the impression that everyone wanted design input, so I’ll show you to your currently empty rooms, and you can submit things you want for them by the end of tomorrow.”
“Excellent.” Thor rubbed his hands together. “I can’t wait to get some turntables.” Whatever you’d been expecting him to say, it wasn’t that.
“Okay,” Tony waved Thor over. “I’ll show Point Break his room, Cap, can you show Loki his-”
“Her,” you, Thor, and Loki corrected him instantly.
“-her room? Y/n, yours is right next-door to hers, so you can just follow them. Also, y/n, good to have you back. Glad to see you’re doing well.”
“Thanks.” The others echoed Tony’s sentiments, and you thanked them all in turn, subconsciously rubbing the point on your sternum where the knife had penetrated, despite the fact there wasn’t so much as a discolouration of the skin to hint at the injury that had threatened your life.
You let Cap lead you and Loki to your rooms, pausing when you opened the door to yours. Tony hadn’t been kidding when he called the rooms empty. Windows along the far wall overlooked the rest of the compound, but other than that, the room was completely unfurnished and grey.
“Where have you been sleeping?” Loki asked, looking around the room with distaste etched in her expression.
“On the couches,” Cap answered. “There’s a den that’s kind of cozy. Also the couches are really big, so it’s not all that uncomfortable.”
“Y/n, tell this clown that I will not be sleeping on a couch, come hell or high water,” Loki hissed, flexing her hands.
“Do it yourself,” you said indignantly.
“I will not, under any circumstance, sleep on a couch,” Loki declared. “I am a god and a princess and I do not sleep on anything besides beds.”
You thought back to the night you’d had your nightmare, how Loki had slept on an armchair, respecting your boundaries but wanting to keep an eye on you. Maybe there were some circumstances under which her standards could be waived.
“Don’t you have magic powers? Can’t you just make yourself a bed?” Cap frowned at Loki, who rolled her eyes.
“I can’t just conjure something from nothing. Gods, you’re just like my brother.”
“You could just book a hotel room,” you suggested.
“A hotel room in New York? Perhaps if I threaten the owners they’ll give me their penthouse suites at such last minute.” Loki seemed to be considering it for a moment, until Cap cleared his throat pointedly.
“Maybe don’t do that, given that we’re attempting to clean up your image?”
“And how are you going to do that?” Loki’s knives appeared in her hands and you gently pressed your arm across her front, preventing her from raising her arms.
“Press tours, the works. We’ve got a few news outlets who are interested in interviewing you. Tony’s got a whole media team working on our behalf, so you’ll want to talk to him about it if you have any issues.”
“Oh, I got issues alright,” Loki said in that smooth accent, like she was ordering a chai tea latte rather than advertently threatening a member of the Avengers.
“Thanks, Cap. Loki and I will start planning our rooms right away.” You gave Steve an out and he took it, nodding at you before leaving the room.
“I have an idea,” Loki said the moment Cap was out of earshot, her features lighting up immediately. “You up to travel through the soul world?”
“Uh, sure?” Her demeanour had changed so quickly, you weren’t sure where she was going with it. Loki was many things, but predictable was not one of them.
“I’d like to take you on a proper date tonight, darling. Just as courtship should be, with all the lights and flowers and candles.”
“Okay? I guess if it keeps you from fighting with the other Avengers.”
She stepped close to you, running her finger over your bottom lip, tugging at it slightly, those dangerous and dark eyes turning your legs to jelly. As you sunk deeper into those eyes, her face changed in front of you, her hair growing shorter and her jawline becoming more pronounced as your princess turned into your prince. “Meet me outside the Louvre at four this evening. Wear something ravishing.”
Just like that, he turned and left, leaving you standing there in the empty room, wondering what on earth you were going to wear and mainly how you were going to manage to travel to such a precise location through the soul world. You had a little over two hours to prepare.
Two hours later, you were dressed in a midnight blue dress with a high neckline and a draped back, exposing skin right down to almost your tailbone. It was formal, yet gorgeous, and Nat, who had helped you pick it out, whistled appreciatively when you gave her a twirl.
“Am I allowed to ask what this is for?” She propped her chin up on one hand, watching you as you slid on a pair of silver kitten heels.
You gave her a tight-lipped smile. “Let’s just say I’m going on a date.”
“With a certain God of Mischief?” Nat’s spot-on guess made you blush and she laughed.
“Is it that obvious?”
“Come on, you basically only talk to each other, and Loki pretty much only listens to you ever. Although, I’d say this romantic aspect is a recent development. Asgard?”
“I don’t like how good you are at this.” You locked eyes with her in the mirror as you leaned forwards to apply a dark shade of lipstick to go with your dark dress and smoky eyeshadow.
“I’ve got to know: is Loki hung? One has to wonder, with the way he walks…and the fact that he’s a god…”
“Oh my god, Nat.”
“It’s not like I’m going to find out for myself!”
“Fine.” You tucked your chin against your shoulder, muffling your voice. “Yes.”
“Aha! I knew it!” She laughed, digging a spoon into a little tub of cherry and fudge ice cream she’d dug out of the freezer at the start of your little fashion show.
“So, where is he taking you tonight? He seems like he’d be a real respectful boyfriend.”
“Well, we’re meeting at the Louvre, which reminds me, I ought to start heading over there.”
“You’re meeting in Paris?” Nat’s jaw dropped slightly. “Are all Asgardians like this? Is Thor still single?”
“I think he’s seeing someone named Jane.” You spread your arms slightly, backing away from Nat so she wouldn’t accidentally get sucked along. “Hopefully this works.”
“Hopefully what works?” Nat asked, and then she vanished in front of your eyes.
Travelling via the soul world wasn’t something you’d tried since you’d come to Earth, despite the fact you’d visited the realm quite a few times. In a perpetual glowing sunset, you were standing on the steps of a ruined pantheon, one from a time long since passed, looking out at an endless glassy surface that reflected the sky. You knew if you turned and passed through the rubble, you’d find the rift between life and death, where the glowing phantoms would pass through, but you had a different method in mind. You’d gotten the idea from Heimdall.
One of your katanas grew in your hand and, chanting your desired location over and over again, you rammed the katana into the ground. Just as you’d hoped, a swirling portal opened up, showing you a birdseye view of the famous museum.
Grinning at your own genius, you leaped through, almost immediately having to turn into a ghost as you tumbled towards the ground. Saving yourself from a bone-shattering landing, you carefully touched down, turning solid as your sword disappeared and looking around for Loki.
It was night in Paris, around ten o’clock now, and so Loki emerged from the shadowy street, holding a bouquet of beautiful acacias, red gardenias, and orange roses. He was dressed in a dark green suit, the crisp white shirt making him look even taller, somehow. He’d forgone a tie, leaving the top few buttons open, reinforcing your opinion that he was naturally the most breathtaking being in the universe.
“Darling.” He bent down to press a kiss to the back of your hand before presenting you with the bouquet. “I’m so glad you made it.”
“Thank you for the flowers. They’re gorgeous.”
“Yet they are nothing compared to your beauty.” Loki watched with keen eyes as you inspected the flowers, smelling them and then putting them into your little magical storage for safekeeping.
“I’ll display them at the compound. I’ve been meaning to try out anti-aging powers for awhile now.”
“Do you just have a list of powers you ought to have that you’ve simply never tried out?” Loki slipped his arm through yours as he led you towards the lit-up glass pyramid.
“Not all of them are for practical use. None of them are, really, now that I think about it.”
The museum seemed to be closed as you approached it, but Loki strode forwards with such determination you had no choice but to follow him. A lone security guard stood at the entrance, scrolling through his phone, but he looked up when he saw the two of you approach.
“Laufeyson?” The guard asked.
“C’est moi,” Loki said, his French accent impeccable. Idly, you wondered how many languages he actually spoke, or if part of being a god was natural fluency in all languages.
“Avez-vous vos papiers?”
“Oui, bien-sûr.” Loki pulled out a holographic card with his photo in it, almost like a driver’s license. It was written entirely in Asgardian symbols. The guard took it, inspecting the card, squinting.
“Je peux pas lire ce document.”
“Ce document est mes papiers. Voulez-vous…je sais pas…un arc reactor de Iron Man? Le Tesseract? Je sais pas comment je peux prouver que je suis Loki de Asgard.” Loki looked at you for ideas and you shrugged at him.
“Faites la magie, peut-être?” You helpfully suggested.
“Ah! Bon idée!” Loki produced a dagger from thin air. “Voilà, monsieur. J’ai des doutes que tous les autres hommes à Paris peuvent faire la magie.”
The guard opened and closed his mouth as Loki thumbed the dagger, his eyes glinting with familiar mischief. Finally, he unlocked the doors, letting the two of you inside.
“Did you rent out the whole museum?” You glanced at Loki as the two of you strolled past the empty front desk area and directly into the famed exhibits.
“Darling, I wanted to court you properly, and this is the way to do it.”
“Loki, you ensnared my heart the first time you quoted Shakespeare. You don’t have to do all these grand gestures.”
“You and I both know I do.” He reached for your hand and you let him take it, intertwining your fingers. “Neither of us have had this sort of thing before. I want it to be special.”
He drew no further protest from you, leading you through the exhibits. Anything that post dated the First World War you explained, and anything that predated it, Loki talked about. He knew quite a great deal about art, although you’d long since ceased to be surprised by the breadth of his knowledge.
In all honesty, you could’ve stayed in the museum forever, simply listening to Loki talk about the art and the sculptures that interested him, promising you he’d take you to Italy and the Galleria dell’Accademia one day.
Eventually he seemed to snap out of his stupor, checking his gold-plated watch. “We’ve got dinner reservations we simply can’t miss. We’ll have to go now if we’re to make them.”
It was about midnight Parisian time as the two of you took a cab to an outdoor restaurant located along the bank of the Seine, looking out at the Eiffel Tower, lit up in all its glory. Along the way, Loki conjured up a warm shawl for you to wrap up in. Winter had come to Paris and it was starting to snow.
“I’m sorry, you can’t see the stars here,” Loki said softly as the two of you reached your seats.
“Somehow I think the Eiffel Tower makes up for it.” You smiled at him, your heart soaring when he returned the look, the warm candlelight that lit your table softening his features.
There weren’t many people in the restaurant on account of it being so late, so your food was ready quickly. Somehow, however, even as you were eating the delicious French meal, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from Loki.
“Calling you my boyfriend doesn’t seem adequate,” you said when he took the bottle of expensive wine from the server, insisting on pouring it for you himself.
“You could call me your god, if you so prefer,” Loki joked, taking a sip of the dark red liquid. “But, if I could inquire, what about the word ‘boyfriend’ is so inapplicable to our relationship as it stands?”
“‘Boyfriend’ feels too casual.” You wrinkled your nose. “I mean, think about it. You are a genderfluid prince of another realm and a Frost Giant and I am an immortal alien who was made by a random rock. Just…calling you my boyfriend feels too normal for us.”
“Every relationship has its own quirks,” Loki laughed openly. “As for labels, you cannot take from me anything that I will more willingly part withal. Designate onto us whichever one you choose, for whatever you choose shall become our truth.”
“You’re usually the one with the metaphors,” you said, nudging his foot lightly under the table, watching as the snow fell around your slightly covered seating area.
“Maybe this time I want to hear your thoughts.” You chewed your lip for a moment, thinking before speaking.
“Our relationship is like the eye of a hurricane. It’s the most dangerous place to be, because you’re entirely surrounded by the genuine force of the hurricane, and it’s terrifying; you know at any moment, the winds could change and easily destroy you, but for a moment, all is calm. You can look up at the sky and it’s green or purple or whatever, and you wonder how something so beautiful can come out of something so as horrid and as destructive as a hurricane. But when you’re in the eye of the hurricane, it’s where you want to stay.” You thought you’d managed to sell it, then you caught Loki’s eye and you lost composure entirely, the two of you descending into giggles.
“I almost sold it,” you said, clinking your wine glass against his.
“You did not, but I appreciate the effort.” Loki was allowing you to see a different side of him, one that was far more carefree with his emotions. You liked it. He noticed you looking at him weirdly and bristled slightly, giving you a distrustful look. “What?”
“Calm down, porcupine. I was just thinking about how, a year ago, when you pictured what you’d be doing right now, chances are you didn’t picture anything like this.”
“You’re right. I thought I’d still be alone.” His frankness caught you off guard.
“I meant more along the lines of you wanting to rule Midgard, but since you’re sharing…” You gave him an opening and Loki really seemed to take that in stride, fiddling with his hands before launching into a monologue.
“I never wanted a throne. All I ever wanted was to be Thor’s equal. I wanted my parents to somehow forget that I wasn’t really their child, forget that I didn’t have Mjolnir. Technically, Thor suffered his own unjust blows at the hands of our parents, but somehow I can’t help but feel as though he got the lesser of it. I spent my childhood thinking that if I simply did magic a little better, ran a little faster, learned a king’s duties quicker, stretched out my hand a little further, that someday I might be able to grasp the unattainable object which was my father’s love.
“And oh, he paraded it.” Loki’s natural cadence in speaking became slightly disjointed as he recounted his childhood. “His perfect sons – oh how he displayed us. His adopted son, because everyone knows Odin is just so charitable, with the eleemosynary Loki, whose birthright was to die and nothing more. But no, Odin gave him purpose. Odin made him another one of his relics, another prized object of his collection, but never did he realize that the love you give a cherished object is not the love you raise a child on.” Loki seethed slightly, having become so impassioned by the recollections. And you were right there with him, your own teeth clenching as you thought about how hard it must’ve been for Loki as a kid.
You’d had no one in what could have been considered your childhood. Sometimes you thought it might’ve been better than what Loki had gone through. At least you’d had no one to disappoint you and no one to disappoint.
“I’m sorry,” Loki said, shaking his head. “You really didn’t need me to go on a tirade against my father during what was supposed to be a romantic dinner.”
“No, Loki, I want to hear it. Trust me, I do. You need to talk about these things.”
“Y/n, you had it far worse than me.” Loki looked at you, eyes full of emotion. “I was a prince, and by all accounts I had a pretty comfortable lifestyle. You had it far rougher, and yet to my amazement you’ve come out so much kinder than that life should’ve made you.”
“We both had it bad in our own ways. I was nice to you because I saw myself within you, in the way you got sad when you’d finished all your books, because I knew how gnawing it felt to be bored up on that barren planet. And maybe I was nice to you because it’s what I’m supposed to do. As the soul stone or whatever.”
“It’s rarely so black and white as ‘supposed’.” Loki chewed his lip for a moment before continuing, as if the words he was about to say would vanish if he didn’t let them all out immediately. “I’m the God of Mischief, Lies, whatever else. That’s who I’m supposed to be, and for a long time, I thought that was all I was supposed to be. You said it yourself earlier; whoever you were born to be is just someone else’s interpretation of your own person. No one will ever know you like you know yourself, and no one can ever make the changes you can make within yourself. Your ties to the soul stone may grant you wisdom, but it is you who chooses to act on that wisdom, not the stone. You were nice to me because you made a choice, because you felt something. Everything you know, or you think you know, all of that is someone else, as all information and knowledge stems from sources outside one’s own person, but when you feel something, whether it be sympathy, friendship, love-” he paused slightly, an indecipherable expression flitting across his face, gone before you could interpret it “-when you feel those things, the only person you can be in that moment is yourself. No one else can tell you how to feel. Only you. Not the soul stone, not the universe, just you.”
Sighing, he looked out at the Eiffel Tower, taking in the way its golden glow lit up the night sky as his words settled around you. Finally, you could think of something to say.
“We’ve both been through some dark times, Loki. I’m glad I have you now, at whatever capacity that might be, even as the shadows of my past threaten to darken our doorstep once more.”
Your metaphor elicited a smile from him. “Blessed are we in the revelation that there are darker places than this.”
“I’m glad you agree.” You reached for your fork, waving it at him slightly. “Sleeping on a couch really doesn’t seem all that abominable now, does it?”
Loki’s mouth fell open and he levelled a glare at you. “Wow. Way to long-con me.”
You gave him a shocked expression, pretending to be insulted. “Moi? Con you into gaining a perspective? Never. I swear to you, I would never do such a thing.”
“The lady doth protest too much, methinks.”
Smiling, you looked out at the Seine and the world that lay beyond it. Night should have swallowed the city, and yet its lights lit the way, reflecting off the falling snow and brightening the world, the twinkling tower shining brightest of all. The wind off the Seine river should have been cold, yet you barely felt it as you committed the scene to memory. You wanted to remember this moment, sitting here with Loki, with his knee bumping into yours, without a care in the world.
Tomorrow, you knew, the world could go to pieces and drag you down with it, but tonight the future had never seemed so bright. Maybe this was why the Avengers took it upon themselves to defend Earth. Maybe they’d had a night like this, where the importance of life is suddenly realized in one sharp moment of clarity, where knowledge of one’s own mortality is unavoidable and yet suspended when a second seems to last forever despite knowing it must pass. Looking back at Loki, internalizing the way his eyes reflected the candlelight and softened it, you felt something in the air shift.
This was why you ought to fight; so that everyone else could have a hundred more moments like this, even if it meant you only got one.
“What are you thinking of?” Loki asked, rubbing one of his feet against your leg to bring you back to the present.
“The future,” you answered honestly, doing your best not to make your smile look so sad.
“Ah.” Loki dipped his head. “It’s difficult, isn’t it?”
“‘Even if I knew that the tomorrow the world would go to pieces, I would still plant my apple tree’.” You quoted Martin Luther, perhaps in attempt to help Loki realize what you just had, perhaps because you could think of no other thing to say. Perhaps because speaking the words of others always helped both of your thoughts become comprehensive.
“And what is your apple tree? What are the fruits you know not of whether you will get to taste?”
“I want to say it is the legacy I shall leave through everything we do with the Avengers, but I know in my heart it will never be as big as that.”
“No?”
“I know that the Avengers are bent on world protection, and that is not the potentially inconsequential act the planting of an apple tree alludes to. Rather, I’d say that my…affection for you is my apple tree.”
“And how do you figure that?” Loki watched you intently, the flame in his eyes not nearly as bright as the flame in his soul, the one you knew that would devour you if you did not exercise caution. Yet the warmth of the fire continued to draw you in, as though you were a moth with paper wings which so devoutly wished to be close to that source of light, irregardless of the risk it posed.
“I don’t know where this road ends, Loki. I don’t know whether it will end with you betraying me or if it will be the means of saving me, and yet here I remain, as my devotion to you is steadfast. It’s foolish and irresponsible, and I believe that’s why I think I’d be correct in calling it love.”
You’d seen the green curtain of his past actions, the grandiosity of his status, and yet you’d looked behind it, only to find a man with fears like your own, humanity like your own, and love like your own. You’d paid attention to the man behind the curtain, and you’d fallen in love.
He was indecipherable in that moment and he might as well have been a statue, but as you watched him, you noticed a singular tear drip down his cheek.