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“All I know is...I don’t want to hurt you.
And I don’t want a throne.
I just...I just want you to be okay.”
The sword in her hand fell to the ground of its own accord with a loud clatter, no longer endangering the man standing in front of her.
Letting her guard down for the first time in centuries, Sylvie shut her eyes, traitorous tears slipping out. These tears were something she previously associated with weakness, but not this time. Not when they were clearing her mind like this.
She slowly understood that they were both fragile, yet already broken. Both of them had tears running down their faces, the difference being that she was making an effort to hide them, stop them from coming out and revealing the guilt, disbelief, and hatred clouding her senses. But he was making no such effort. It was almost like he wasn’t giving them a second thought.
Embracing the fact that someone like, well, her cared about her this much was nearly impossible. A voice in her head, the same one that had fed into her mistrust of people all this time, warned her that he might be lying. Feigning concern to achieve what he wanted.
But for once in her life, she didn’t listen to it.
His entire attention was on her, his beautiful eyes piercing her soul. She couldn’t bring herself to believe that he was feigning anymore. Even the darkest part of herself had to admit that his tears were real, which wasn’t much reassurance.
Both of the strong demeanors were a façade, that much she knew. She wanted to comfort him, but she didn’t know how to. She finally realized that the care he showed her wasn’t one-sided, and she couldn’t bear to see him in pain either.
All her rational thinking left her, and her body took over her mind. Before she knew what was happening, her lips found his.
It was a feeling similar to finally finding the last missing piece of a puzzle, making her feel complete in ways she didn’t even know of.
The world seemed to have stopped rotating, and resorted instead to spinning at an alarmingly fast speed. She never wanted this moment to end; she was afraid of living it.
She was afraid he would pull away, recoil, and confess that he didn’t care about her as much as she did for him. But no such thing happened, and even after she pulled away tentatively, he didn’t. His warm lips encased hers again with the same desire she’d felt coursing through herself.
When they both finally pulled away, she could still feel a tingle on her lips, as though they were still kissing. She kept her eyes shut though, to savor the moment before it ended, and before she opened them again to face her reality, she felt herself being pulled into an embrace. One that she had craved ever since they’d shared a blanket despite not needing it.
Loki was hugging her, tightly, gently. Telling her, without words, that he wasn’t going to let go. Her mind was foggy, her senses dull, but the one thing she registered was the feeling of safety . Comfort. Home . Something she hadn’t felt for years.
It was reassuring yet terrifying at the same time, and forcing herself not to break down in the sanctuary of his arms, she could hear him whispering words of comfort that were traveling to her brain at a snail’s pace.
“You’re alright, Sylvie. I’m here.”
That was the one thing he said that made her feel better in an instant. Just him being there . Not abandoning her, not treating her like an outsider.
He kept repeating the same words over and over for what felt like an eternity until she started believing him. You’re alright .
He pulled away all too soon, not letting go entirely, his hands on her shoulders keeping her steady. She was grateful for that, because her body and mind both felt like collapsing.
He studied her face for a while, and she did the same, looking at him in an entirely different light. She searched his expression for any regret or anger he might feel after what had just happened, but she found none.
All she saw was concern, and perhaps, the same anxious expression she had on her face. His lips curved and he gave her a small, almost undetectable smile. She returned it slowly, a sense of alleviation engulfing her and clearing her mind.
Almost unwillingly, she tore her gaze away from the intensity of his gaze to look at the chair on the other side of the table, occupied, as she had forgotten in lieu of what had just happened. He seemed to be vaguely invested in her actions. It was irritating, the way he was so… relaxed. Not caring about the fact that he could be dead in a matter of minutes, which, of course, made Sylvie hate him even more.
He simply smiled and leaned forward, waiting for her to make a move. An animalistic growl rose up in her throat, and she felt nothing but hatred for him, even if he was offering her a somewhat enticing deal. It took every ounce of her self-restraint not to pounce on him and do something she would most likely regret.
Her hand wandered to her scabbard out of habit, only to find it empty, recalling that it was lying on the floor. Her gaze averted to the floor to see if the sword was close enough for her to pick surreptitiously. Her movements were, however, being closely watched.
She looked up at Loki’s face to see that his eyes had never left her face. She tried to keep her face as neutral as possible; he was just as adept at reading emotions as she was.
Crouching down slowly and hopefully unnoticeably, she bent to pick her sword up. Loki’s eyebrows shot up, and before she could even think of deceiving him, his hand had twisted around the air, and her sword appeared between his fingers. He waved his fingers again, and she could no longer see her sword.
She glared at him, and he held her gaze without a word. It unspokenly turned into a staring match, with neither of them ready to back down. Ultimately, she blinked, her eyes watering and her mind reeling.
“Sylvie,” he said softly, “I can’t let you-”
“He ruined my life!” she yelled, her strong façade back on, “Worse! He took it away from me. I-” her voice broke “-I won’t- I can’t let him go.”
“I know,” was all he said. “But what makes you think it’ll make you feel better if you kill him?”
She hesitated for a second before replying, “I don’t know. But it might. ”
He smiled. “It won’t,” he said simply, looking away, his mind elsewhere.
His gaze turned back on her, not smiling anymore. “Do you want to risk the safety of multiple universes, just to get revenge? Even when you’re not sure whether it’ll make you feel better? Killing people doesn’t make you feel better, Sylvie. I know all too much about it.” He scoffed bitterly.
“What do you mean?” she asked, genuinely wanting to know.
“It’s...nothing,” he said hesitantly. “Regret is not a very desirable emotion,” he said after a pause.
“I would regret it if I didn’t do anything either,” she said quietly. He shut his eyes and didn’t say anything.
“This conversation is getting pretty chilling, huh? Perhaps you’d like to have some tea as you talk?” the voice behind the table suggested. Still standing close to Loki, she gave a jump and turned around to look at him.
It was so hard to believe that a man this friendly and impassive could’ve been responsible for everything that had happened to her. But after all her years running, she knew that the politest people usually turned out to be the cruelest.
“We don’t trust you enough to know it won’t be poisoned,” Loki said in a cutting voice.
“It’s hurtful that you think I would resort to that," he said in a distinctly unaffected voice.
“But is it not expected?” Sylvie shot back.
“It might be. I wouldn’t know,” he said in a light tone, “Now are you going somewhere with this?” She raised her eyebrows.
“Take up my offer. Kill me,” he prompted, “You’re supposed to do either one of these.”
"We’re well aware of that,” Loki rebutted. She saw his arm discreetly snaking around hers, and the next thing she knew, they were standing on the other side of the room.
Before she could express her discomfort at this, he had started talking. “We’re at a stalemate here,” he said in an undertone. She noticed that his lips were barely moving, something she hadn’t thought necessary till now.
She sighed in response to his comment, not agreeing or disagreeing entirely. “I know you wish to take revenge and kill him,” he said in an even softer tone. “But as I said, I don’t think we should be taking that risk.”
“I wouldn’t fret,” a vaguely familiar voice called out, “Neither of you has ever really worried about taking a risk and destroying everyone else in the process.”
Loki’s face was in a state of badly disguised shock as he stared over her shoulder. Knitting her eyebrows together, Sylvie whirled around to see a slowly fading golden portal right behind her. Standing right next to it was a woman she hated almost as much as the man behind the table.
The one who had taken her away from her life and didn’t care about it in the slightest. The one who had pushed her to become who she was today. The one who she wanted to kill just as much as the other. The one who was standing right there, defenseless.