When War and Lies Collide

History and Sleep

The Prince sat in his room, legs kicked up on top of a stack of books.  He rubbed his temples with his head leaning against the back of his chair.  The stress felt like such a weight on his shoulders, not to mention the weight of exhaustion on his eyelids.  His hopes had fallen as it had been days since Fandral's news.  Every passing second was agonizing and he practically felt himself losing Sif all over again.  The day would replay in his mind over and over, not giving him a moment of rest.  Whenever he closed his eyes, he could see the hurt shining from Sif's under his closed lids.  

It was torture, not even what Thanos or The Other had done to him could match this, and the pain they put him through was unbearable.  Scars could be found all over his body, but with help from his illusions they were easily hidden.  Nobody other than he knew about them or what had caused them.  The memories, however, were not so easily masked.

He didn't want to rule Earth, to lead an army and destroy what his brother had loved.  But he was selfish and wanted to stay alive, so he did whatever they had asked of him.  Of course, this took many sessions of harsh convincing, many times leaving him battered, bruised, and bloody.  He had clung to life for many months, starving, dehydrated and weak.

So many times he remembered refusing, not ever wanting to hurt his family no matter what they had done to him.  Every time the word 'no' escaped his mouth, the abuse would only get worse.  At first it was a little pain, more of an annoyance, really.  He would smirk at their attempts and laugh at their scowls.  Seeing that they were getting nowhere with their prisoner, the cruelty increased and he was stripped of his pride, his strength, and his will to go on.  He would do anything to get the pain to stop.

After a certain day that consisted of the worst kinds of torture imaginable - the memory caused him to shudder- he gave in.  Thus, his journey to Midgard had begun.

After failing his mission for them, the warning they had left him with haunted him.

"If you fail, if the Tesseract is kept from us, there will be no realm, no barren moon, no crevice where he can not find you.  You think you know pain?  He will make you long for something as sweet as pain."

He could only imagine what pain lay in store for him now, but he almost doubted it could be worse than the feeling of loss that plagued him now.  He could feel the stabbing in his heart from grief, he despised it with a passion.

He attempted sleep once more but found himself tossing and turning, unable to get comfortable.  He was also (shamefully) afraid of what nightmares would creep up on him if he did manage to fall asleep.

As he lay there, breathing in what was left of Sif's strawberry scent, there was a knock on his door.  He hadn't been expecting anyone but he could only assume it was Fandral to bare him with the news that would confirm his growing suspicion - that Sif hadn't wanted to See.

His voice was weak from the sobs that had overcome his body the last few days, but he spoke loud enough for the person who awaited outside the door.  "Come in!"

He heard the door crack open ever so slightly, and then fully open.  He heard someone step inside and then close the door behind them with a click.  He didn't bother to turn, he could care less if someone had arrived to slaughter him alive.

"Loki?"

It was that voice that brought him to his senses, that caused everything around him to become real once more.  He shot up, looking over at the door.  Sif was standing there, her face void of any anger at all.  What he did find was sorrow.

He slowly stood, as if any fast movement would spook her and cause her to dart away and out of his grasp once more.  "Sif?"  He spoke softly, eyebrows furrowed in confusion as she took another step forward.  She was now within arm's reach.

He must be dreaming.  She would not come here - to him - especially at this time of night.  She came closer yet, now within hugging distance.  Carefully, he outstretched a hand, gently stroking the side of her cheek.  She closed her eyes, holding his hand there with a small, sad smile.

Nothing else mattered except that she was here, and she was real.  He could feel her and see her, and before he knew it he could even smell her strawberry hair.

Sif's arms found themselves around his chest in a tight hug, wishing nothing more than to show him how sorry she was.  She had caused him so much pain, pain he hadn't deserved at all.  She could see how it affected him, there were bags under his emerald eyes, his hair wasn't kept as nicely as it usually was and he looked as if he hadn't slept in days.  

In Loki's eyes, her unhealthy appearance seemed to be a reflection of his own misery.  "Sif I can't tell yo-"  Before he could finish, she held a finger to his mouth, shushing him.  Her big, brown eyes stared up at him and they were clouded with guilt.  

"No.  You listen.  I can't express how sorry I am, I could sit here for ages and not be able to express the regret and shame that I am burdened with.  Never before have I hurt someone like this, and especially someone that I care for.  I am so, so sorry, Loki.  I will never be able to apologize for my mistake enough."  This time, it was Loki's turn to silence her as he sat her down on his bed.

"Hey, it's alright.  All that matters is that you are here now and that you are safe.  Oh, Sif, I can't tell you how worried I was about you.  I am sorry for what you had to go through, and I am sorry for ruining your night that day for I only wanted to make you happy."

Sif leaned against him and it seemed that a large amount of weight was lifted from their shoulders and replaced with relief to be in each other's company again.  The whole event had only proved how they could not be separated without severe consequences for both of them.

After many long minutes of more apologizing and heart felt hugs, Loki let out a yawn just then realising how tired he was.  Sif seemed to do the same, and slowly got up to leave but the God held her where she was.  "Stay here, please?"  It was not a command, but a request.  He wanted her to be with him, where he knew nothing could harm her.

She just nodded, giving him a sleepy smile.  He watched her go outisde the door, coming back with her bag in hand.  She pulled out a pair of sweat pants and a tank top, leaving him alone in his bedroom as she changed in his bathroom.

As she was brushing her teeth, he also got into more comfortable attire, then slipping under the covers with a satisfied sigh.  He could now notice the comfort, and it soothed him greatly.

She came out with her hair in a top knot and her pants hugging low at her waist, making her way to the couch.  He couldn't help but notice just how beautiful she was, even when she wasn't trying at all.  "You can sleep here, I won't try anything.  I promise."  He spoke, looking her in the eye.  There were no lies to be found so she accepted, crawling in beside him.  

"Thank you, Loki."  She murmered with a yawn as he held her close to him, her head reasting against his chest.  She was much too tired to protest, as was he to object anything.

"You're welcome."  His low voice comforted her and she found herself closing her eyes.  A few minutes passed and Loki's breathing had become even, his mouth slightly open. 

Thinking he was alseep, she gently kissed his cheek before drifting off herself, tucked into his embrace.  But, the God had been awake and found himself with a large grin plastered across his face as he continued to replay the feel of her lips against his skin, as brief as it was, at least a thousand times.

When the two had been held captive once again by dreams, they found that only the good ones arrived.  Never before had they slept so peacefully.

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Hopefully this chapter makes up for the last one!  If you enjoyed it, please vote and comment!  If you want to follow the story, add it to your library!  To keep up with other upcoming fanfictions, follow me!

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