The Edge
"Our ragnarok has started, we will be made and unmade, we will both perish, yet I hope it takes me first"
Harsh words, harsh but true.
Words you expect to hear on battlefields.
Words you expect to hear from an enemy.
Voice, tender and husky, almost a whisper.
Words he said the first time they kissed.
Words he said in her chambers
Words he said to his beloved
Words that mischief said to war.
He is fetched back to Asgard after his stint on Midgard.
She is all dubious towards him.
She is all dubious after his lies, his treason.
She wonders how monstrous he had become,
How atrocious he had become,
She wonders what he is capable of now.
She is furious at him.
She is furious at herself, because he still lives in her soul, because she feels lost, she feels herself ripped apart between him and her loyalties and she isn't the one for compromises.
She wants to forget all the things that tied them together, the fights they fought hand in hand, the nights they shared, their everything.
She should hate him, she must hate him whatever it takes.
She cast him out.
She cast him out long ago, when he needed her most.
She promised not to leave him out.
Yet, she didn't keep her promise.
When it came to choice, to loyalty, she chose Thor.
His mind races with possibilities of what might have happened in his absence; after all she seemed more at ease beside Thor than should be.
She is clenching hard on his hands,
She steals glances at him.
His rage is uncontainable, uncontrollable.
His rage at her is the most, because his love for her is the most.
The all father sentenced him to repair the Bifrost, after which he'd see what he can do to reform his delinquent son.
A task he can execute with relative ease compared to others.
He is magic and knowledge after all.
She keeps a close eye on him during his work, one of paranoia and doubt, incessant and unrelenting.
She doesn't trust him.
She is insanely suspicious.
He isn't oblivious to her keen eyes.
For he watches with ones as sharp as hers.
He watches from the shadows, every gesture between her and Thor, every nod, every exchange of looks or speech, every interaction.
He is insanely Jealous.
Tumult arises as the chituries shift their gaze from Midgard to Asgard.
They prepare for war.
She notices his frequent absence.
She thinks he is brewing something unsettling.
He notices her lengthy midnight sessions with Thor.
He doesn't want to think what is going on in there.
He can't sneak in to know, they have put protective barriers against his magical intrusion.
She trails him once, she finds him with Thanos.
She can't make out what they are saying.
She can't get close without being noticed.
She knows what has to be done.
Their voices don't rise above whispers, extra discretion about war schemes.
She is all tense during her war planning sessions with Thor.
Thor tries to entertain her during sessions, various light hearted tales about the realm of Midgard, various reminiscences from the past, stories and memories that cause her to Laugh and sigh.
They are all sleepy and yawning, yet they must keep going.
They must go on.
They call out for each other whenever one loses his focus to the seductive slumber.
He manages to break the spells around Thor's chambers enough to listen to hues of voices,
2 people laughing and whispering
2 people sighing
2 people moaning and calling for each other.
2 people snatching at his heart.
He is resolved about what has to be done
Strange how everything comes crashing down at the very end of things, how we come to confess to every thing we have thoroughly denied.
She loved to brawl with him, more than anyone, more than Thor, more than the warrior three.
She loved to because sometimes he'd give her allowances, others he will grind her, pitilessly.
Long time ago, it wasn't always that insane,
There was a time when he was so easy, when he wasn't that twisted, when treason wasn't that mingled with his blood.
There were times when there were issues and stuff that they both believed in, cherished and loved.
She wishes she could go back to these times.
She even contemplated making amends with him.
Yet she can't, not after what she saw.
It is beyond her forte,
It is beyond her strategies, her expertise.
She can't bear to live a life with shattered morality,
She would go insane.
How had she grown to hate her existence because of him, because of his love.
She knew him better than anyone in the whole nine realms.
She could effortlessly see through his lies, his musk face.
sometimes she'll let him get away with it.
others she will unleash her blade of a tongue on him.
It wasn't always that way.
He remembers a time when he used to live for her and only her.
Rekindling is out of question.
They are both done, even far beyond done.
She has done the one thing that he can't forego.
She betrayed him, she threw herself in the arms of Thor.
She has Thor now.
He heard them together all bent on each other, all affections and laughter.
This is the one thing that he wouldn't lose to Thor.
She seeks out his chamber.
He knows she will come.
Everything in the chamber is laced with poison;venom, bitter, strong and lethal: the drinks, the dagger, the love, the loathe, everything.
It is passion in its purest form.
It is hatred in its purest form.
It is sadness in its purest form.
"Thor asked me to inform you, we ride for battle tomorrow, he expects you to join though I don't see a reason for his misguided faith for a traitor ,your liking ,will never ride with us"
"A traitor, am I?"
"No doubt you are Loki"
"You could have swayed his mind against taking me, or has your power over his mighty faltered?"
"Nobody has power over Thor"
"Really, not even his mewling ….."
He doesn't continue the word.
Her hand grazes his cheek, rough and stingy.
"Don't you dare imagine it, Loki"
"I apologise my lady, for the crude remark" he seemed to recompose himself and regain his poise.
"Wine?" he offers, sign for an impending unspoken apology.
She needs all her mettle for what she is about to do, she needs to lose herself so she can bring herself to do the deed.
She accepts the Ale.
"Tell me, Sif, do you think I am oblivious to all your trails at tailing me?"
"I assume not since you asked"
"Am I a fool, Sif?"
A cue of a smile graces her face
"A mighty one, Loki"
"Do you think I don't know what is happening behind the closed door of Thor's Chambers?"
"You are implying the same thing over again, Loki. I guess I made myself clear prior. Anyway, I am not entitled by any mean to answer to you" she answered dignified.
"Of course not, my lady"
She pretends to rise for her leave.
"Goodbye, Loki"
"Farewell, Sif"
They stand in awkwardness, neither moving, only staring longingly at one another
She notices the ever present hue of sadness in his eyes, how deep it has become.
He moves to catch her in an embrace, fully aware of what she was about to do.
"I no traitor, Sif" he manages to whisper as she plunges the dagger into his back.
She had done it.
Her vision blurs and she falls beside him.
She is now aware what he had done.
"And I am neither, Loki"
He lies bleeding beside her, as every breath she draws becomes more of a burden.
"We were preparing for battle, in there" she manages to choke.
"And I was sent to Thanos, by orders from the all father, war strategy".
They don't know should they weep or chuckle.
Pain becomes more tangible, more real, so invincible.
"When did we reach such an edge, Loki?"
"Nothing matters anymore, Sif"
"Right"
"We were bleak, from the very beginning"
"You never wondered how different it might have been, had we never fell apart?"
"You did?" he asked incredulously
"Sometimes, wild fantasies even for me"
"Tell" his breathing starting to fail
"We might have gotten married"
"Odin and Frigga giving worn out speeches about how complementary we are"
"Dark, light" lamenting tears falling from her eyes
"Dusk and dawn looping around each other" he resumes
"Imagine, Heimdall smiling" a bare tint of humour in his voice
"Fandral, Volstagg crying"
"And Thor, stumbling over, trying to give a speech in our honour, a sight to behold" he said as he drew his last breath
"Indeed, a sight to behold" as she drew hers.