Caligo: Latin for darkness
"Are we made of stars?"
He felt the galaxies shift and tremble, just as her lips did, as the words fell like comets. No one had ever asked him such a question. At least, not without giggling and snorting afterward. Especially not her.
Lady Sif. Warrior Goddess, protector of the weak, and his once-lover.
He narrowed green eyes at her, staring at her through a curtain of black hair, dark as night. She was shivering, shaking, her eyes as feverishly hot as a burning-out sun. Her hair was in a strange disarray. He found himself staring at it, fixated on it. Her hair used to be the color of sunshine: gold, beautiful. Just like everybody else. And then he had taken it away, changed it, made it as dark and empty like his. But there was still a shine to hers, almost like starshine in the dark pathways of space. A gift from the dwarves no doubt, for the future queen of Asgard.
Or so everyone believed.
Loki lifted his chin, taking in the trembling goddess before him. He watched her through the veils of his eyelashes, pondering on her state of being. On their state of being.
Were they made of stars?
His pale lips parted in a slow breath and he leaned toward her, shackles clinking like bells.
"Would you like to find out?"
Her whole body quaked and heaved like a planet about to explode. Her breathe rattled in her chest, and her eyes flickered across his face, taking in his expression and words.
"How?"
He held up his bound hands, silver cuffs shining in the candlelight.
She reared back as if struck, her teeth clanging together like a steel trap. He watched carefully as she blinked back tears, muscles going taut and tense.
"You dare-?" She choked, her throat convulsing as she tried to swallow past her desires and disappointments.
"Yes, I dare," he whispered hoarsely. "I dare to show you what no other being has had the privilege to see. Not even your brother, with his golden eyes and far sight. But to show you here? In this room?" He threw his hands out to indicate the dark stone room they were in, with its gasping candlelight and wooden table. "I will show you what you desire to know," his voice sibilantly soft.
Sif was silent. He could feel galaxies shift with each shaky inhale she took, stars imploding and planets emerging. But he didn't tell her this. He didn't tell her that he could sense her thoughts colliding and converging in a confusing chaos of life. For what did it matter? He knew the outcome. All that lived must die…
"What did you have in mind?"
And all life finds its way.
He suppressed a grin as the planets fell in and out of alignment in a far-flung galaxy.
He held out his hands. "Allow me to show you, my goddess."
Her touch was hesitant but firm nonetheless. And he would have been lying if he said he hadn't trembled at her touch. If he said he hadn't missed her scent, like a young star blooming. But as the manacles fell from his pale wrists, he looked into her eyes and hid that nebula of thought away. He was the god of mischief and lies after all.
"Do you remember the tales of Yggdrasil?"
The darkness shivered between them, stars shining like jewels.