A.N.1: I based Sigyn on Eve from Only Lovers Left Alive.
A.N.2: Thanks to my mum for looking over this for me.
Disclaimer: Don't own Thor
The third floorboard from the door creaked. It always had. Yet while he had got better at avoiding it over the decades, she had only got better at listening for the other tell-tale signs signalling his return.
She kept her face passive, her eyes closed, her limbs unmoving, as she listened to the soft sounds of movement a few feet away from where she was lying: the soft crumple of heavy material as it fell ungracefully to the ground, the soft pads of footsteps coming ever closer, and the ruffle of material as the covers around her began to shift.
A draft brushed against her, though the brief moment of coldness ended when a weight pressed into the other side of the bed. She could feel the waves of weariness rolling off of her companion as his head hit the pillow.
She sensed a set of eyes on her, watching her, not knowing that she was aware of their gaze. She could keep up the pretence no longer, happy in the knowledge that she had tricked the trickster.
"What did your father say?"
She peeled her eyes open, smirking at the surprised look on his face. He sighed, his expression warming.
"I should have known you wouldn't be sleeping."
He reached out to her, his long fingers brushing against her platinum blonde hair and the top of her ear, tapered to a delicate point just below her hairline. Pursing her lips slightly, she took hold of his wrist, moving his hand away from her face. She took pause to press a feather-light kiss to his palm before curling her fingers around his hand and holding it between them.
"You're dodging the question."
He looked away, his eyes darting to the pillow, if only for a second, and her heart sank.
"He refused," he told her, his voice drained of emotion. He squeezed his eyes shut and increased the pressure on her hand. "I'm sorry."
An exasperated sigh escaped from her lips, the air brushing against his face drawing his attention. He opened his eyes once more, looking at her as though afraid that she would take her anger out on him.
"Did he say why?"
A shadow fell over his face, and he settled his head further into the pillow.
"It is as it always is: you are not Æsir. He claims any children we have would be… abominations."
She fought back a wince, her lips quirking into a frown.
"But we wouldn't have-"
"He does not understand that."
She untangled her hand from his, reaching forward to lay her palm against his cheek, rubbing her thumb gently against his cheekbone.
"Oh, my love," she breathed. She shifted forward, pressing her lips against his before settling back into her own pillow.
His eyes drifted away from hers, glazing over as he disappeared into his own mind. She felt a twinge of fear at the prospect – his mind was not the safest place to be, even at the best of times.
"If it were Thor asking-"
"Hush, my sweet," she interrupted, drawing his attention once more and ignoring how his eyes were glistening in a way that they hadn't been a moment before. "Don't do that to yourself."
"He would approve," he mumbled darkly. "He always does. For Thor."
"Please. Don't."
He took in a ragged breath, the bitterness leaving him instantly, replaced with a deep-set exhaustion.
"We will find our own way," she promised. "Without his approval."
A.N.3: I have a sequel planned, but I need to flesh out the details a bit more. It will be set during The Dark World.
UPDATE 02/06/15: The sequel to this fic, To Mix Such Blood, has now been posted.