The day before yesterday, Loki destroyed the Bifrost. Frigga saved him, yes, and Odin met him in Heimdall's control room with concern on his face. Safely out of view of his subjects, he was more father than king. It has always been this way. His only question was , "What were you thinking?" but he had not expected an answer and did not get one.
Today, Loki stands just outside the control room staring at what is left of the frozen, shattered Bifrost. He steps out onto it thinking about the days before, wondering what the answer to Odin's question would be. Frigga has been a comfort, giving her son the space to talk if he wants to. But he does not want to, and so she hovers, keeping an eye on him, afraid of what he might do. He has managed to slip away, but he knows he will soon be found.
One step closer, then two, then a third until his toes hang over the edge of the void. He sighs, wondering if maybe he ought just tip forward, end the questions and uncertainty, and let them all move on.
Footsteps approach and he does not turn around to see who makes them.
"Loki?"
Sif. He says nothing. Volstagg said he would explain everything to them. He does not know what was said on his behalf. He does not know what they said to Volstagg.
"Please, step back."
No answer.
"Volstagg told us everything. Not all at once. That first day, right after the Bifrost...he told us you were lied to most of your life. We didn't understand. But he said he would tell us no more until we'd slept on it. The second day, he told us you were adopted. We still did not understand. So he told us to sleep on it again and to come back on the third day to tell him if it made a difference to us that you were not Thor's brother by birth. It did not. And so today, he told us you were adopted from Jotunheim. It was a surprise, for certain. But he remided us that we said it did not matter when we did not know and asked why it would now. I admit, I struggled. I did not understand how one of the creatures we have been taught to fear could be my friend. But it was Hogun who said it best- we have known you for all these years as our brother, why should this undo any of those years? It doesn't."
"Thank you, Sif."
"Will you please step back from the edge? Just a step?"
He hesitates, then does as she asked. One single step.
"Now one more, so I can sit beside you without feeling like I will tumble off into the void."
He takes another step, still not facing her. She takes his hand and sits down. He glances down at her and she smiles a little. So he sits, still firmly looking out over the void, his body not turned toward her in the least.
"So why won't you face me?"
"I tried to have you killed."
"You are hurting. And when we are angry we all do incredibly rash things."
"Most people do not try to kill their friends."
"Most people do not discover they are something they have been trained to kill."
Loki sighs and inches to face her, "Is that better?"
"Yes." He realises she still is holding his hand when she squeezes it, "Yes it is, my friend."
"I have made a terrible mistake."
"And you will have to attone for it. But not alone."
"Father has said I have years of scholarship ahead of me on the people of Jotunheim and their history. He wants me to learn that they have a place in this universe as well."
"Perhaps we can help you, or you can teach us as you learn. It might help us on this journey."
"Are you angry with me?"
She shrugs, "A little. But not as much as when you cut my hair." She smiles and reaches for his cheek, resting her hand there, "Our clever Loki...of all the trouble you have gotten yourself into in all your long years, this is perhaps the most painful." Her thumb brushes his lips, "Excepting, possibly, having your lips stitched shut."
He leans into her hand, "No. That may have hurt my body, but this...this hurts my heart. My body healed quickly enough. This will take far longer. If ever." He wants to tell her how comforting throwing himself into the void sounds, but he does not want her to follow him around for days to make sure he does not.
"It will, with reassurance and time. The kindness of friends."
"And how many of those will I still have? You say you can deal with my parentage, but what of my actions?"
Sif does not like answering this and it shows on her face, "Fandral does not understand why. He is confused, angry, and he will take time to come around. Hogun is the same. Volstagg is forgiving- he is trying to see this as if it were one of his own sons who acted thus. And you know I am here."
"How? You have no children, you haven't a way to relate."
"But I do, at least a little. I have fought as a man does my entire life. I am an outsider, always having to proving myself worthy, as capable as the men. I have heard snide remarks, been preyed upon by older men, and curled up in a corner, my heart shattered, more times than I can count. And I have had years to get used to this, to build a shell, and to learn how to burn them to the ground with my fire as I rise. You have had not even three days. You will learn, too, how to rise from the ashes when they burn you and how to harness the flames." She embraces him and he welcomes the kindness.
"And what if I cannot? What if this kills me?"
"You mean, what if you wish to kill yourself?"
It is disarming to hear it said out-loud, "Yes."
"Then you will be no different than I when I was still building my walls. Come to me before you act and we will sit together. I will listen."
"Mother would not understand. Father even less."
"But they love you even so. Thor, too. We care deeply and will not leave you."
He snuggles a little closer, "Thank you, Sif."
"You are always welcome, Loki." She rests her cheek against his hair and looks out over the void. It is disorienting. She squeezes her eyes shut and takes a deep breath.
"Are you alright?"
"Yes. The void is dizzying in its expanse."
"It is even more-so when you are hanging in it."
He sits up and she takes his hands, "Come on, let's go someplace safe and warm." He glances over the emptiness and then agrees. As they walk toward the control room, she puts her arm around his shoulder and leans close, "I'm glad you didn't go. I'd miss you more than I can say."