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[ Loki's skin is pale; he, once again, looks human, his eyes green, his hair dark. His fingers are restless, tapping. ] Shall we have a tale?

Here, I believe the appropriate beginning is, let's see... Once upon a time.

Once upon a time, there was a little world. It had no boundaries, but it was small enough that it needed no boundaries. More on that later, I certainly expect. This world was made by balance between order and chaos. Order created and arranged, and chaos introduced an element of randomness. Evolution. Each required the other to innovate.

But, then, Order isn't so very good at innovation, is it? Perhaps inevitable that one day Chaos would begin to dominate. The balance reels, and the world changes -- or perhaps it's that the world changes, and the balance tips. Either way, each avatar, one of order, one of chaos, are locked in eternal battle. Thorns began to spread, and so Order had to try, again, to reach beyond itself. Literally, this time.

As we stand: order reached to heroes, but could not cope with the element of instability the heroes produced. Thus, it boxed them into confined roles, shaved off the bits of them that would not fit.

Take care, heroes, for chaos would destroy everything -- but order would destroy you from within.

This is, as it stands, all I know. Let you ignorants be satisfied with that.

[ OOC: Thread between Sif and Loki below includes NSFW content. Be thyself warned. ]

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[ She is so oddly affectionate. He doesn't know what he expected; perhaps that she would withdraw, preserve her dignity as a warrior. That she would be cool to him, after she had taken her pleasure. ]

I thought you liked my words formal, and lovely.

[ He sweeps his fingers through her hair, pushes it back from her forehead. ]

When you wish them to be. Other times, they are evasive things. Your words.

[He is not wrong to have been unsure. Sif can be mercurial, as a lover. She has certainly been distant to her partners in Asgard, when necessary.

They are not in Asgard, now. She leans into his touch, places a hand over his and remembers when they tinged blue.]

I like the moments that find you without speech. I like the parts of you that I can hold onto.

My words are as real as any other.

[ Any other part of him.

Or just as real as any other man's words, perhaps. ]

I never said otherwise. Did you know that I envied your way with words, when we were children?

[Her fingers grow restless. They idle across his cheek, down his neck and collarbone.]

You seemed to know what combination of words would make all things seem right. Sorcery of a kind, but so much more powerful. And there was a point, on the cusp of leaving my house, where I was hesitant to say anything at all. No skill at lying, and a truth I was told was an ugly thing. I thought, if only I could speak like Loki.

[She traces a map across his skin. From gilded halls to quiet corners, and worlds without names. A pathway that's brought her here, to his bed.]

And I cannot. So, more plainly, I have something I must tell you.

Edited 2012-09-10 02:23 (UTC)

[ So she has an ugly truth. Perhaps it is what Thor would not tell him. Perhaps it is that she has turned against him.

He moves to pull away, but the motion is arrested by her hand.

Perhaps four weeks ago, Loki would have shrugged away her hand, refused her gesture. But now he settles back, cautious and guarded. ]

Tell, then.

[She sits up in bed, hand resting on top of his chest. She doesn't want to break contact -- desires to make clear that the knowledge she carries is neither a weapon nor a wedge.

A fact they must discuss, yes. But she is not turned away.]

There was an...incident, while you were out of contact. [She barrels on, before he paints any number of scenes for himself.]

The Seer and I switched minds. She was granted sanity and I her visions. In that state, Thor came upon me.

I saw the future with which he did not wish to burden us.

[ He has gone still, apart from breathing, and his eyes tracking her face, assessing her and her words. ]

And?

[She can feel him watching her -- analyzing every rise of her brow, every tick of her cheek. As surely as she feels the heat of the fires, the sounds of strange stone on foreign streets.

The sharp, swift cut of the knife at Thor's side.]

You amassed an army, somehow. Not the Loki that lies in my arms, now. Not precisely. I'm given to understand that this was well over a year after your fall. After all in Asgard thought you dead. After you fell and were alone, save for the Chitauri. Of all races.

[Not him, no. Not as he is now. But Sif would be blind and stupid to believe it all something of which he would be incapable. If the circumstances were just so, if he felt it justified. She barrels onwards in her explanation, unable to hide her grief at the images.

She would not want that ability, anyway.]

You were defeated. But not before enslaving many Midgardians and killing thousands more. It wasn't a war. Not truly. There were no songs. No disputes. No lines drawn.

It was a massacre, by your -- by his command. That is the truth which burdened Thor so.

[ Her worry makes him cross, and irritable. If he had decided revenge -- perhaps he would have, if Thor had been here to avenge himself upon.

Chitauri. Dark, scuttling creatures. But if he could have ruled them... ]

I saw no battle lines drawn when we took ourselves to Jotunnheim.

[Does he truly mean to compare...]

We took ourselves to Jotunnheim under false assumptions, which you well know.

Ah. I see. So Thor was wrong... and that makes his crime the lesser.

[ He pulls fully away from her now, reaching for his clothes. He shouldn't listen to this. ]

You compare the crimes. I do not.

[She slides off of the bed, standing before him. His anger only fuels her own.]

You lash out at Thor for withholding the truth. And now you are cross with me for revealing it. Why, Loki?

Edited 2012-09-14 21:27 (UTC)

Because I do wrong and it is the height of horror; Thor does wrong, and you run to the ends of Asgard and beyond to save him!

[ The words are snarled, defensive. He does not bother for his clothes, now; he has the illusion of them wrap around him, magically. ]

What is so terrible about invading Midgard? Crushing mortals like the ants they are?

We all did wrong, that day. I do not absolve myself of what happened on Jotunnheim, any more than I absolve you.

[He would approach a conflict clothed where Sif is naked. She doesn't move to gather her own things. Doesn't break eye contact.]

Crush mortals to what end? They are a lesser species, and we have long since pledged them our protection.

Edited 2012-09-14 21:44 (UTC)

Would we not rule them better than they rule themselves?

Meanwhile, their lives are nothing -- thousands? Worth one of the gods, if that.

They are not ours to rule. Their lives are not ours to take. How you defend so ardently a crime that is not even yours!

You did not see as I saw, Loki. If you had, I believe you would not be so quick to speak. A city of millions. Children, all of them. Confused, frightened, and defenseless. No -- no god is worth that price.

Edited 2012-09-14 21:57 (UTC)

Vengeance is in my heart, Sif, no matter how deep it is buried. My crimes on Jotunnheim were more terrible. You know of those -- but Thor, Thor saw this and he said it beyond redemption, and how you fall into line behind him. Ever-so-loyal.

[ He would have killed every Jotunn, every Frost Giant there ever was for a true place in Asgard. But to strike a single city -- this is unforgivable? ]

I saw this, Loki! This is no hearsay. The visions -- it was as if I were there. Yes, they were terrible. This is a conclusion I reach on my own.

But at no point did Thor deem you beyond redemption. He would never. Nor would I -- [this is maddening]

For what reason do we quarrel? These crimes have not taken place. There is nothing laid at your feet to forgive or redeem. And we have put Jotunnheim behind us, have we not?

If he didn't think it beyond redemption, then why wouldn't he tell me?

[ His voice has become quiet, and tight, tense, full of emotion. Why wouldn't Thor say? Why was Thor so certain that the news of this would strike him so? ]

What drives any action Thor takes? I imagine he thought to protect you.

[She moves in closer, mindful that Loki is like to strike out at any moment.]

No cruelty was intended. You must know that.

And I wonder --

{ -- his tone so bitter -- ]

I wonder why he did not think I had been protected enough.

[ If only he had known the truth of his heritage earlier... if only they had not lied to him. ]

Because he is your older brother. I do not suspect he will ever think that you have been protected enough.

[In this, the royal family is not so different from any other. That is what is most maddening -- how common so many of Thor and Loki's conflicts are, and how neither of them can admit that.]

He is an ignorant lout, as usual.

[ In this moment, Loki hates him. He hates him, and that hate roils and twists in his belly. ]

And you see slight were none is meant. As usual.

[She know. She knows. Loki wears his hate as plainly as Sif wears her anger. She cannot fix what is broken between the two brothers. But she will not indulge his hate -- it is an ugly thing, that seeps in and distorts the best parts of him.]

In Thor, it was meant.

[ He is sure of it.

But he drifts a step or two closer to her. A reluctant ceding of his personal space. ]