❝ YES. ❞ it still leaves an … uncertain taste in his mouth, saying so. as much as he caused trouble, there were still attachments to asgard. less for what it stood for, and more for the memories which were still all too fresh in his mind. he’s at a rare loss of how to explain properly, though; of where to begin, of what to leave out, and what to flourish. instead he hums low in his throat, fingers brushing contently along her skin while he remains in place, admiring the suppleness of her cheek with a languid kind of gaze.
❝ ragnarok has come to pass, ❞ he speaks almost gently, in calm, even tones. the destruction flashes before his minds eye and he sees death and fire, bodies strewn about the courtyard, on the bifrost. all familiar in passing, some far too well known. this he keeps to himself, however, if only for the moment. ❝ as it was meant to. the people are safe; though many warriors lost their lives. we’ve come to earth, for refuge. ❞ he leans in then, now cupping her cheeks with both of his hands; there is, perhaps, the barest hint of a meaningful kiss before he murmurs against her lips, hopeful : ❝ do you understand? i’ve nothing left ; and yet, i still come to you in the wake of such loss. ❞
Darcy knows Ragnarok; knows Asgardian lore as well as any mortal can. It was Darcy who suggested Jane and Erik read it, after all, but for the scientists, the humanities and literature was too strange, too esoteric and poetic both. For Darcy, she ate it up eagerly, needing to match the tales that Asgardians passed down to the Nords, which then became inscribed not as an alien encounter, but a holy one. Maybe it’s for that reason still, that Darcy sees them so.
Loki’s lips are cool to the touch, like the rest of him, but even with all her warmth she can hardly stir against him. Warriors have lost their lives. Does that mean Sif, and Fandral, and the rest of them? Of the Asgardian she never met, Heimdall? And Thor?
And yet, it’s Loki’s grief that is knocking on her door, begging her to answer. She reaches up with one hand, nestling it against his arm, anchoring him as much as her. Her other arm reaches back further, weaving her fingers in his hair and holding it to his neck.
“I didn’t know, I’m sorry -- I -- But you could have called. Or ... sent a raven. Like hey, my planet’s blowing up, so... on Thursday, I’m going to stop by.” It’s a silly thing to say, but what else is there? Feel a little shame, she supposes. Darcy then whispers quietly, her fingers tightening. “Are you going to be okay? Loki?” She says his name again, this time, because she wants to, because she wants to keep it close. This is why he came here. Maybe to escape something terrible, but because he knew it wouldn’t take long to make her so undone. There would always be at least one person in the universe ready to forgive him.
tangentwithtanner
janainaart
jbbartram-illu
discoholicmusic
pixelskylines
ellievsbear
kianamaiart
