Part Five: In Which There are Stars

Sigourney sat on her floor, leaning against the side of her bed, head in her hands. She couldn't understand why the dream was suddenly different. Why, after years and years of relentless sameness, had it decided to change? Anyone else would have shrugged it off as nothing but a quirk of dreaming. As something that was liable to happen given the fluid and unpredictable nature of dreams. While Sigourney's dreams were fluid, they were also always completely predictable. No matter what occurred at the beginning, they always lead to the gilded chamber and ended in blinding colour. For that colour to melt away into stars in a night sky... it made no sense. Sigourney shuttered and dug her fingers further into her mass of wavy hair. She didn't understand what this meant. What had she done differently? What had changed? She sat up straight and let her hands drop to her sides.

Loki.

Loki was different. Loki was the only significant change in her life. As if by cue, there was the sharp rap of knuckles across her front door. The sound made her jump and her eyes flew in the direction it had come from. Sigourney didn't know how she knew it was him. She just knew. She could feel his shape through the wall and door separating them. She could see him without seeing him at all. The fictional cord in her chest pulled tight again, extending out through the wall and the door. Sigourney shut her eyes and forced herself not to think about it. It was deeply unsettling. There was a second, less certain, knock at the door. She got up and answered it.

Loki stood there expectantly. He was still barefoot, his long hair still untidy, and his face still mildly scuffed. He was wearing a dark green sweater, though, with the sleeved pushed up to his elbows in a most attractive way. He smiled sweetly at Sigourney and the discomfort she'd felt only moments before melted away.

"I trust you slept well?" Loki asked as she stepped aside to let him in.

"I had an odd dream." She told him, shutting the door softly, "Something about an old library and a sky full of stars."

He smiled again, "By all means, regale me."

Sigourney looked at him for a moment, chewing her bottom lip. Should she? The dream felt connected to him in a way she couldn't explain. It had changed after she'd met him. He had even been in one a few nights ago. She remembered him being marched down the long corridor, bound in chains. Something nagged at her. There was a force inside her head clamoring to understand what was happening. This felt like a kind of start. Sigourney nodded, led him into the kitchen, and put the kettle on.

The story seemed to come out all at once. Sigourney told him everything about the dream in as much detail as she could remember. She leaned against the kitchen counter, speaking of antique libraries and her father dressed in strange clothes. When the kettle came to a boil she fixed the tea and the two migrated to the table. There she told Loki all about the dream she'd been having for as long as she could remember. His fingers clutched his teacup as though he were afraid it might run off. Sigourney tried not to think about it as she plunged on. She described things in as much detail as she possible could, explaining the parts she could remember clearly. When she finally came to the end, Loki looked almost as though he'd seen a ghost.

"What do you think it means?" She asked him, her voice filling the sudden silence that had settled around them.

Loki blinked a few times before drinking deeply from his cup, once again avoiding having to give an answer.

Sigourney frowned down at her own cup, "You always do this. I hate it."

"Do what?" He choked on his tea a little.

"You know perfectly well what I mean." She ran her fingers through her hair and sighed, frustrated with him, "You always go quiet when you don't want to give me an answer."

He shifted in his seat and rested his hands on the table, "I know."

Sigourney opened her mouth to tell him how much his silence hurt her when she was suddenly struck by a wave of deja vou. She stopped and stared at him as the sensation washed over her. They had been standing in a large room with polished marble floors, arguing this very thing, as people dressed similarly to one another worked at laying a massive golden table. She and Loki had spoken in harsh whispers in their attempt to not be overheard. His hair had been shorter then. When the sensation passed she shut her eyes tight.

"We've had this argument before." She mumbled half to herself, "Why do I remember... nevermind. I'm just being foolish. It must have been part of the dream."

"You aren't being foolish." Loki told her in a gentle voice, "I cannot lie to you, Siggy. That is... not always a blessing. I have little choice but to hold my tongue when I think a truthful answer would cause you grief. I know it irks you. Forgive me."

"Why can't you trust me to decide what will grieve me or not?" She asked, "Loki, I..."

I love you. Why must you hide these things from me? I would not have given you away, though I might have tried to talk you out of your foolishness.

That was what she had told him in the hall with the massive dining table. Sigourney shut her mouth to stop the words from escaping her lips. Loki's fingers lightly touched her arm. They were freezing. His brow was furrowed in concern as he looked at her. The dream had left her out of sorts. That was all. She shoved the scene in the large chamber aside and tried her best to focus on what was happening around her.

When she trusted herself to speak again, Sigourney said, "I feel strange. My mind is all muddled up and I don't know why."

The familiar scratching and pawing sound of Fiske at the fire escape window filled the apartment. Sigourney was grateful for the excuse to get up. So far things had not gone the way she had hoped they would. She was making a mess of things. Loki, unfortunately, followed her into the bedroom.

"It's just my neighbor's cat." She explained, unlatching the window and opening it.

Fiske slipped inside with a happy meow. He rubbed up against Loki's pant leg before darting off into the kitchen.

"He want's breakfast." She shrugged, standing.

"May I?" Loki gestured to the bookshelf.

"Sure." Sigourney smiled and went into the kitchen.

When she came back from serving Fiske canned tuna, Loki was perched on the edge of her bed tentatively leafing through a comic book about himself. He furrowed his brow at the brightly coloured pages of Loki: Agent of Asgard. Sigourney watched him for a moment, unable to keep herself from smiling.

"What do you think?" She asked.

"Well," He sighed and looked up at her, "It's rather encouraging to know that there are people in this realm who believe me deserving of redemption."

"When you said you can't lie to me..." Sigourney sat down beside him on the bed, "Is it like it is in this?"

She pointed to the pages Loki was holding between his hands.

"Like how it is with Verity, I mean?" She explained.

"No." He reached out, putting the comic back onto the bookshelf without needing to sand up, "From what I gather she can see through any lie that's told to her. With you it's different."

"How?" Sigourney hoped he wouldn't go quiet again.

Loki took her hands between his, staring at them rather than meeting her eye, "I physically cannot lie to you. I don't know why, but I can't. I look at you and it is as though I'm compelled to speak only the truth or else keep silent. It's not something I understand. I think it's part of why I..."

"Why you what?" She pressed gently.

"Of why I fell in love with you." He looked at her and smiled.

This again. Her stomach fluttered at the words and she wished it wouldn't.

"Can't you see how confusing this is for me?" She asked before she could stop herself, "I don't understand why you think you love me, why you say you can't lie to me. I don't understand why I dream of the things I do or even what they mean. But I do know that you are at the heart of it all."

Everything that had built up over the past few days was crashing down all around her. It poured out of her like a flood and made her cry. Sigourney hadn't realized just how badly she'd been fighting to keep from drowning in all that had happened. There was a wall in her mind threatening to give out at any moment.

"I look at you, Loki," She went on, "and I'm so certain of something it hurts. But I don't know what. I don't understand why I feel like this about you. I should be afraid of you. You should hate me. But I'm not and you don't. Why me? Of all the people on Earth, why did you choose me?"

Loki pressed Sigourney's hands to the center of his chest and touched his forehead to hers. He was quiet for a long time. She wasn't going to let him back out of giving her an answer this time. If he changed the subject or danced around the questions she would just ask him again and again until he relented. She could feel the beating of his heart against her palm. It eased her whirling feelings somehow, like a point of grounding.

"I want to tell you." He said so softly Sigourney had to strain to hear, "I want to tell you everything, but I have no way of knowing what will happen if I do. I don't know how to undo what's been done and I fear that the only person who did is dead. She would have known what to do. She always did."

Loki pulled her into a hug. His arms wrapped around Sigourney tightly, pressing her to him, her head against his shoulder. This was right. Like when he called her Siggy. It felt like it was how things should be. She closed her eyes, filled with the weight of his arms against her and the feel of his chest rising and falling steadily. She could hear his heartbeat through the fabric of his sweater. It's pounding was the rhythm of some long forgotten melody she had known all her life. How had she forgotten this sound? The invisible cord sprouting from her chest finally eased and Sigourney could no longer deny what it was tethered to.

It was a long while before either of them moved. For the first time since meeting Loki, Sigourney could think clearly. His embrace had somehow caused all her troubles and fears to melt away. She didn't understand it, but that no longer seemed important. It was just another thing to add to her long list. A list that could be dealt with later.

Sigourney shifted her thoughts to the things she did understand. She knew that, for whatever reason, Loki was here. She knew that he loved her. And she knew that she shared something with him that bound them together more tightly than anything she'd known before. Sigourney slowly pulled away from him in order to see his face.

The scrapes and bruises from just the other day were nearly healed. Sigourney wondered why Loki didn't hide them the way he did his scars. She could almost see the rough marks lingering just under the surface of the face he was wearing. He looked so tired. Sigourney touched her fingertips to where she knew the scars around his mouth were. His skin felt smooth under her touch. Another illusion.

"Do you truly think it best that you don't tell me what's going on?" She asked him gently.

He nodded, "Yes. It would be better if you came to it on your own. Safer, I think. You've already started."

Sigourney had no idea what he meant by that. She supposed, though, that it was something she would just have to accept. In order to talk to her about these sort of things Loki had to do it in a roundabout way. She would just have to work at deciphering what he meant by the things he said.

"Alright." Sigourney nodded, "I'll try."