When they first met, both felt a connection that ran far deeper than mere small talk, one that felt almost life-changing, and they promised each other that they'd meet again, in a place more convenient and at a time better suited for them.
When they met again, both felt the connection branch out to encompass all around them, and Sif had never seen anything the same since. Loki had never listened to a song in the exact same way, had never seen others laughing in a coffee shop without hoping to see her walking through the door, had never been even remotely similar to how he'd been before seeing her eyes and never wanting to look away.
Then, they promised to always find a way to one another, to never be entirely alone. It was a promise they'd both kept for years, almost a decade, and in most ways, it had improved their lives beyond belief, beyond all of their hopes.
Secretly, by swearing fidelity, Loki had made a promise to himself to never let her go, to always protect her and ignore the cost, no matter its severity, and Sif, by sealing their deal with that sweet, graceful smile of hers, the shine of her eyes caught from underneath her wide-brimmed hat, had sworn to herself that she'd never abandon him, and both ignored the incredulous, scornful comments given by friends.
Each year after, Loki and Sif made new vows, and there came, at the end of the third year of knowing one another, a day that such vows became sacred murmurs upon the midday breeze, sealed with a kiss and surrounded by white and rose petals.
At the end of the fourth year, Loki bestowed her with a Christmas present and a fresh guarantee, professing his love all over again as he swore to her that he'd never, in all of his life, let her go, and Sif in return promised that she'd always support him.
It was a back and forth process, and in his arms Sif always felt that it had its own kind of reward.
On the day of his new job, she fixed his suit tie with a smile, reaching up on her tiptoes to press gentle, smiling lips to his cheek as he wrapped his arms around her slim waist, which had thick green ribbon tightened about it, the flowing, loose skirts of her pale dress swaying when she moved from him to grab his brief case, ushering him lovingly out the door as she waved, encouraging.
By the middle of the fifth year, his next promise was made, hugging her close to him as she sobbed with grief, her arms wrapped around her middle as tears dripped down her cheeks. He told her that he'd keep the sorrow away, and she could only hope that she never saw that look on his face again, the light of realization, the slow, reserved thought that a family could never be theirs, and promised him that she never wanted to hurt him.
He ignored the terrified, ominous feeling in his gut and hugged her tighter, and in the next month they moved, hopeful for a fresh start and a new life.
By the sixth year, Sif was adamant about going to see the new ship when it was built, but complained constantly about how slow the construction process was going. He told her that she'd get to see its departure, and she smiled at him, excited by the certainty in his green, intoxicating gaze.
In the next year, she made a special cake for his birthday, and he laughed when he blew out the candles and dipped a finger into the chocolate frosting, reaching out to dab it against her nose. She chased him around the house and proclaimed victory when she smeared a handful of icing across his forehead, and he ruined her dress by wiping it on her skirts, but she hardly minded, mockingly promising him that he would rue the day he ever met her once she got her hands on his favorite shoes.
He only grinned at her, teasing and all too ready for a challenge, brushing away with frosting-coated fingers the dark strands of her hair that stuck to her face.
In their eighth year, the ship was built, and the builders named it, proudly and with awe,the Titanic, and, secretly, Loki had collected just enough money in the past few years to get them both a room aboard it, and when he gave her the news on her birthday, she wrapped her arms so tightly about his neck that he could barely breathe, but it was the warmth of her body, the measure of her happiness, that kept him smiling.
When Sif clung to him with such excitement as they walked onto the ship's deck, the breeze cool on their faces, her smile was worth every penny of the money he'd spent, and her wide, amazed eyes during all the time after reminded him of that fact time and time again.
When she kissed him, happy and loving and lingering, he let himself enjoy it, eager to make her days spent on the ship the more memorable ones of her life.
And when she hugged close to him, cold and trembling in his arms, a lifejacket tightened securely around her, he broke his promise, tears staining his face as he urged her onto a lifeboat, deciding in that moment that he hadto let her go, deciding that never seeing her again was better than meeting her in death, and she cried out his name as the ship groaned, and he backed away, ignoring the freezing water at his feet as he watched the boat start to drift away against the backdrop of hundreds of glittering stars hanging in the midnight sky.
The pain on his face made her feel nauseous, and she couldn't bear the thought of being without him, watching the last half of the ship slowly sink into cold oblivion.
She couldn't stand to break her vow.
So, she leaped out of the boat, flooded with shock as the cold water met her skin with unforgiving malice, and he shouted to her as she swam with all the strength in her limbs, her dress soaked and sticking to her body as she climbed up the ropes hanging over the side, reaching his outstretched arms so that he could pull her back onto the deck, and the panicked, dying screams around them faded as she fell heavily into his arms, the tears on her face nearly frozen as she shivered in his embrace.
She glanced up at him, and noticed the tremble invading his own body, his dark hair flattened by the water in it. His eyes were dark with fear, and her own were reddened with tears as she rested her head on his chest, sniffling as she tried to even her heavy breathing.
"I promised," she started, and he tightened his hold around her, burying his face into the cold, wet strands of her hair, breathing her in for what he knew would be the last time.
"I know," he whispered, and the ship lurched, throwing the ones left standing off balance, and their bodies slid across the deck easily as Loki and Sif tried desperately to keep their hands intertwined.
The movement stopped long enough for them to slide harshly to a halt, scrambling to their feet as Sif slid in her soaked night slippers, her toes already aching from the cold, her fingers stiff.
"Loki," she wailed, holding tight to his hands as he put a palm to her cheek, tears in his eyes as he pulled her close, kissing her, feather-light and gentle and so reminiscent of their very first kiss.
"Together," he murmured into her ear, and pulled away far enough to gaze longingly into grey eyes he had for such a long time admired as she nodded, her chest heaving with fear.
He wrapped his arms around her, gentle, searching hands finding the sharp edge of her shoulder blades as he pressed to her, and she circled her own arms about him, clasping her hands together so that her hold wouldn't come undone, and she felt his name, so familiar and wonderful, heavy on her tongue, yearning to be spoken, yearning to be heard, and she closed her eyes as they jumped over the side of the ship, plummeting so far down and so far away, clinging to each other as the crisp, freezing air caressed their free-falling bodies.
Sif felt his heart race at his back, just perfectly in tune with the frantic beat of her own, and the fleeting, struggling warmth of his body was the last thing she knew.
Based off a prompt given over on Tumblr.
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