Broken Things
~~~
The door slammed open and crashed forcefully into the wall, hinges rattling and the scattered objects on the shelf rattled discontedly. Sigyn jumped sharply and banged her elbow with a yelp of surprise. She had been reading, utterly absorbed in her thoughts until Loki crashed into the room, the air humming around him, furious emotion clinging to the hollow of his throat. For a moment Sigyn thought she could see something writhing under his skin, as though possessed by some ungodly wraith, twisting his soul into darkness. His eyes were dark and swirling as he gritted his teeth, barely containing himself. The objects on the shelf rattled again and the door slammed shut with an ominous thud.
Sigyn took a deep breath, “Loki.”
He clenched his fists. The window rattled in its frame and Sigyn felt the currents streaming through the air, hot, angry tendrils of fire and energy seeking an outlet. She saw the tendons of his neck straining and the bones of his shoulders creasing against his skin as though trying to break free, as though his body was a breath away from disjointing entirely and falling to pieces on the floor. He sought her eyes desperately, a drowning man. Sigyn allowed his eyes to drill into hers, a heavy, weighted gaze that communicated more than Loki would ever need to say. Scattered objects and possessions in the room were beginning to lose their shape, twisting and writhing and warping as though pulled apart by a curious child, eager to spill their contents.
Something shattered.
Loki’s jaw was firmly clamped shut, and Sigyn could swear that the grating of his teeth was audible enough to be heard in the hall. Blue into green, his eyes stared through hers, until they finally lapsed shut, and he let out a quick burst of air, before gasping harshly, his lungs convulsing.
“Loki. Look at me. It is alright.”
Her voice was gentle, a calm, collected barricade to his panicked fury. She rose, placed her hand on his chest, and felt him quivering under her palm. She pushed, as carefully as she could, and coursed her seidr through his, draining his energy through her body and releasing it harmlessly as light that glimmered off the walls and winked out peacefully. She heard someone’s-Thor’s-mocking laughter echo in her head, and bit down on the wave of nausea that followed. He began to calm infinitesimally, his energy bleeding through her, stabilized by her own magyck. The shattered trinket began to shiver on the ground, pieces slowly working themselves back together and rising gently back to its place on the shelf.
At once, his body loosened and he softened under touch, muscles retreating back to the confines of his body and flesh rising again, supple and soft against hers. He reached his hands up, still shaking, and placed them on either side of her face, cupping her head and resting his forehead against hers, pressing slightly. His breath mingled with hers and she wrapped her arms around his waist, twisting like a vine until indistinguishable from one another.
“Let’s go.” She breathed.
“Where?”
~~~
“If you could change a single moment, which would you choose?”
Eyes glittering, the question poured from his lips like wine. Or blood.
A breath passed. Another.
“I never would have let them in.”
The drop of his smile was a fraction of satisfaction. The downpouring of his features, the drain of his face, it was almost a remembered dream.
“It was you!”
~~~
“Run back home, little princess!”
Ice cracked under Sigyn’s feet.
“Damn.”
Pulse thundering, Sigyn clawed her way into consciousness. Sweating and panting, she rolled over to sit up, frantically pawing at the insufferable tangle of bedclothes. Breath eluded her for a moment, until Sigyn found again that air began to creep back into her lungs. Quivering, she laid down, burrowing back under the blankets against the sudden chill of the incessant cracking of ice and the howling of winter winds.
~~~