Orb ; rebirth decline 8

[sorcerous]

Heroes; to me.

[ His skin is blue and his eyes aglow with red; he has disregarded his glamour entirely. He has learned, now, that his Role has changed overnight, and that he will have to relearn all he once knew, as far as his sorcery mixes with this place.

There is a tightness to his tone, a firmness, a dignity and an urgency. Not the sharp-tongued princeling, at the moment. ]

We face destruction, lest we act. To me. I am [ address of an apartment, rooms that he has rented from a recalcitrant landlord for a week or so ]; respond, or come to me if you are willing.

[ His urgency is a bit hypocritical; after all, he delayed because of his own problems. Nonetheless: he can delay no longer. The Hero of the Mountains is here, and she must be killed. ]

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[sorcerous]

His elbow bends, his hand drifting to his own chest.

"You remember Jotunnheim," he says. "A touch, alone, can burn."

[brosif]

"I remember that we met them as enemies. Perhaps it was intentional."

She steps forward.

"I am not afraid of your skin."

[sorcerous]

"There are other matters..." He slips a hand into his pocket and brings out a smoky grey gemstone held between his fingertips. "Carry this with you, today, tomorrow. Do not let it fall."

He holds it out to her, and he will allow her to touch him while she takes it. Provided that she takes it. He tries to hold his skin as warm as possible, though he doesn't know what he's doing -- he could just be making it colder, or having no effect at all.

[brosif]

"Your courtship gifts are strange."

A jest. She reaches out for the stone. She has no sense for magic, but assumes there is some laced within it. Best to assume as much, with any gift of Loki's. When she takes it from his hand, their fingers briefly interlace.

His hands are cold. It is like touching ice itself. But it does not burn.

She quirks an eyebrow.

"It would seem that--"

[thoreal]

If he must question his brother, he thinks, it is not best done on the orb. Loki is being frustratingly vague, perhaps deliberately, and Thor needs answers: who is "balance" and why have they chosen Loki as their messenger? After his recent experiences in Midgard, it seems like it could all too easily be a trap.

He's expecting an argument when he intrudes on Loki's address. "Loki--"

He's not expecting what he sees.

[sorcerous]

Sif's fingers burn with warmth. He can feel it; his fingers drain her life away, take her heat and greedily hoard it.

And then he snatches his hand away. This is her fault. She tricked him into touch, and thus has revealed them, before Thor.

"Thor," he says, neutrally. "You have questions. I am glad you've come, and I will answer."

[brosif]

"Thor!" She says, not nearly as neutrally. She moves her hand away as quickly as Loki, but has a much more difficult time maintaining an unaffected countenance.

She clears her throat. Looks at a spot on the wall directly behind her friend, rather than his eyes.

She has no talent for this.

[thoreal]

He looks from his brother to his friend and back again, his expression ranging from "baffled" to "astonished" without much other variation.

It will make sense, when he thinks about it, but it's a little difficult to think right now. "I have many questions," he agrees, brows rising high. "More than I knew I had."

[sorcerous]

"Then by all means, brother," returns Loki, dryly. "There will be others joining us, but not until dawn is closer." They will act in the morning, the next day. Or at least they'll act as fast as Loki can make them act. These aren't Asgard men he can order as he pleases.

[brosif]

Sif shifts where she stands. She nearly moves to take a seat on the bed, before thinking better of it. Instead, she leans against the fireplace. Knocks against a carriage of fire pokers as she does. The screech of iron on brick echos throughout the room.

Dawn is too far away.

[thoreal]

In which case, Thor decides to the betterment of no one, he can keep his questions about Loki's statement until dawn is closer, and tackle the ones that are both more private and currently very much on his mind.

It's Sif who gets the bulk of his attention, despite her clear reluctance. Thor winces at the crash and turns to his old friend. His expression makes it clear he's still trying to decide how he's supposed to feel about the current situation: happy for his loved ones? angry at the lie? deeply confused? Yes. "How long has this been going on, Sif?"

[brosif]

Though one can last eons in Asgard's court without tact, Sif does on occasion possess a mild ability to navigate social situations.

This is apparently not one of those occasions. Her expression remains much the same, eyebrows raised and mouth half open. She looks not at Thor, but on a spot at the top of his head. She reveals herself when she looks then to Loki, unsure how to give words to something that has essentially remained unspoken.

"I...believe that Loki was contacted by the avatar of balance a few days ago. During the mission to the old capital, if I were to guess. Loki?"

[sorcerous]

Loki rolls his eyes heavenward. What he would give, right now, to be among the ladies of Asgard -- the ones who speak swiftly and intelligently, who lie with batted eyelashes and deflect with more skill than any warrior with a sword.

"Warriors," he sighs. "Spare me."

When had it begun? -- Likely, when Loki had pleaded for death and she had refused. When the shadow of a memory (we were once companions) had defeated the blood stained into Loki's hands.

[thoreal]

"That is not what I am asking," he presses, ignoring Loki's exhortations. "As you well know, Sif."

Thor, too, has never been blessed with a fine sense of tact or diplomacy, and certainly not the kind of fine barbs that Loki likes to throw around. He is a hammer, not a scepter. But... so is Sif.

[sorcerous]

His glance turns to Sif. He is turned away from the both of them, and his eyebrows rise.

"Yes, Sif," he agrees. "Do tell us. How long has this been happening? When did it begin?" A beat, then: "Why did it begin?" A voice that's soft and sly, and too smooth.

[brosif]

Of all the matters for the sons of Odin to present a united front. Though Loki's query certainly has nothing to do with unity -- like many things with him, she suspects it is a test. She does not care to be tested.

She catches his eye, angry at being left unsupported. It is not for her benefit that she was holding her tongue.

Fine, then. She looks to Thor, hesitancy gone.

"Weeks. At my initiative."

[thoreal]

Weeks? "Yet you told me not," he replies instantly, and this is to the both of them. "Why was this kept hidden?" He might have celebrated, after the initial confusion... He might, still, but at the moment, it's clear the betrayal is overtaking.

He is a hammer, and so is Sif. So why is it Thor who bears the wounds of Loki's claws, when Sif is allowed so near?

And maybe there's a part of him that says, too: he is the hero, and the secret he is keeping on Loki's behalf is consuming and murderous. So why are they -- why is she -- keeping secrets from him, too?

[sorcerous]

He eyes Sif, still uncertain, still blank-faced. He does not know if he is satisfied.

"And when, in the hurried moments since your arrival, was there a chance for me to say?" asks Loki. He had not expected Thor to look so hurt. It is a thing that Loki himself has difficulty facing, fully, let alone speaking of -- and he supposes, evidently, that Sif did not want to speak of it, either.

He could say -- we were in a new place, and I suppose she took solace in the familiar, and I, in an ally where there should not have been one.

He moves, then, to defend her. With reluctance. But perhaps he has committed himself to it.

"Sif has no gift with words, not as I do," he coaxes Thor. "Nervous of your reaction, and preoccupied with the dangers here; is it any wonder there was no chance to say?"

[brosif]

She is not satisfied. She is well angry at the both of them.

That Loki defends her now doesn't negate that he put her in the positioned to be questioned, earlier. Just to see what her answers would be, she suspects.

That Thor is so clearly hurt fills Sif with a keen sense of guilt. But her anger -- his presumption -- splits the difference.

"Loki, you wished for me to answer. To test me. Did I pass?"

Eyes sharply, upon her lover, before turning to Thor.

"I told you not. My relationship, my heart, is not your business, Thor. I have sworn my fealty and friendship to you, gladly. I would do so a thousand times over. But you have no kingdom over that aspect of my life."

[thoreal]

In the hurried moments since your arrival. Were Thor more like his brother, he might sneer at that; as it is, he growls low in his throat. Does Loki mean all the hurried moments he spent avoiding Thor, perhaps?

Sif's anger, too, only aggravates his own. He moves closer to her, further from Loki, lowering his voice intently. "You know that is not why I ask," he mutters, a mountainous rumble, like thunder, like a coming storm. For all the pain he has put into trying to reach out to his brother, all the time and energy -- for all that she knew of this, and she did not say a word?

He looks at them both, and for the first time, for half a second, he thinks he understands what Loki must feel like, doubting, mistrustful. Then he gathers himself together and stalks away from them both, his back to them. "Tell me of the Hero of the Mountain," he says sharply. "Tell me of your war."

[sorcerous]

Loki's breath rushes in. Thor looks untrusting, cornered. He thinks -- this might be enough to make him understand. This might be enough to show Thor how it has always been for Loki.

"I will tell you everything," he says, a startling and frightening promise, "if you tell me what you have kept back, Thor." If only he knows what's happened in the gap between their times.

[brosif]

She and Thor have always quarreled poorly -- they are both quick of temper, and slow to civility. His anger incites her own, and she crosses her arms over her chest, intent on saying nothing until he makes some show of restitution (Her anger, now, is rooted in the fact that she knows she has hurt him).

But Loki's query breaks the cycle.

Shock, again, and she looks to both of them with concern. It has clearly been a burden on Thor, whatever knowledge he has. But the fact alone that he has decided to shoulder such a burden proves that it must be with good reason.

[thoreal]

That brings Thor up short as well, surprise as much as anger stiffening his posture. He glances sharply back over his shoulder, and this time, there are no shared looks with Sif, no silent exchanges. They have never spoken of what she does not know, not truly, and he has told her nothing, but he knows she knows there is a great deal there. Enough that she has not pressed him.

But now, he finds himself wondering why she has not pressed. Out of the same concern as he has... or because she does not want to know the truth?

One thing he still knows, though, is that he does not want Loki to know it. However hurt he is by this, that is more important. A king-- There is too much at risk if Loki's mind should fall that way again.

"Tell me about the Hero," he says again, flatly, finally, looking away.

[sorcerous]

"Get out," says Loki.

It is flat and unequivocal. And calm, too, much to his surprise. It seems calm is too often beyond his reach, these days.

But he will not tolerate this. Thor knows too much that he is not telling. He is acting not as Loki's brother, not as that long-distant beloved companion, but as that creature Loki detested -- the one who believed himself fit to be King, who thought himself better, who would discard Loki in an instant if it suited him. Who would run to his mortal whore rather than stay by the throne. Who believed that nobility raised him above his brother.

Now, there are those here who know more of Loki than Loki knows. They know a future of his, and regardless of that woman's minced words, he knows she is from his future, Thor's present. She must be. Loki cannot remain ignorant.

"You would have love bind us tighter than blood," he tells Thor, "and then you spurn me. Get out, and return with the rest of the heroes. I will give you no more."

Jumpin'~

[thoreal]

"No," he refuses, just as unequivocally, and now he is prepared to argue on this -- he knows the argument is coming.

He wants to turn, to let the heat rising in his blood take over, but he wills himself to take on some of Loki's coolness, going instead to the window. "I spurn you not, brother," he grinds out, takes a deep breath, tries to bring his voice to the same calm. "I never would; say what you will. But there are great and terrible things at stake now."

And one of them, he thinks, is you.

"If you do not want to tell me about this--" The word is charged with more than he would have it be-- "Then tell me why you wanted me here in the first place. Tell me of your battle."