Stolen Stars:

Chapter Fifteen

The world is coming down on me

And I can't find a reason to be loved

I never want to leave you

But I can't make you bleed if I'm alone

(Arms – Christina Perri)

0o0o0o0o0o0

Her bed was organic. Odd; she hadn't been in the Bargam Hotel in years. But no, there it was. Cool and soft and breathing.

Rose did not move for wishing to stay in this subtle comfort. Her sleep-muddled brain registered only the bliss of early morning and no urgent need to wake. But something else was nagging her, a low buzz at the back of her head. And also…something about the night before, or perhaps it was a dream. In any case, the ringing in her head sharpened her awareness bit by bit until she shifted and inhaled deeply.

That's…skin. Skin. The Bargam sheep have wool, not skin…

Rose blinked and found her nose brushing against the hollow of a pale, humanoid throat.

Oh.

As her consciousness was brought to full force, Rose could feel one of Loki's arms loosely wrapped around her and his light breath moving through her hair. Her bare feet were resting on top of his boots, which he apparently neglected to take off.

She moved slowly, trying not to disturb the trickster as she pulled away to see his face. But he didn't even twitch.

But then again, Loki was good at pretending.

When he made no motion to indicate he was awake, she settled her head onto the pillow and enjoyed the grounding weight of his forearm on her waist. Rose took the opportunity to watch him sleep, a novelty that she never really took advantage of with the Doctor. Well, the Doctor always slept less than she—up in the morning at an unholy hour making coffee. Oh, she had seen the Doctor asleep of course, but this was different. Whereas the Doctor attacked sleep like he did with everything else (with enthusiasm and the occasional spasm or muttering), Loki was still as the grave. There was an innocence and vulnerability to his face that was not present in his waking hours.

Rose suddenly wished that she had known him before all this, before he fell through the Void, before he tried to conquer her Earth. Before his demons took over.

But she knew all too well that a person's demons were always there, and always will be. It was only a matter of when they reared their ugly heads…and how you deal with them.

Rose knew this was inevitable, and she knew it was going to be difficult. She had tried to keep this part of their relationship at bay while she helped Loki. Her feelings for him had to take the back seat, feelings that somehow were stoked even in those first few days where he didn't dare call her friend. Feelings that had survived decades of loving and living with another.

There had to be a barrier. It was too dangerous for both of them. Romance was an animal too complicated in a normal situation, how could she wisely pursue him (or vice versa) without risking horrible repercussions?

Then again, how long has it been since my life was marginally normal? Rose mocked, her eyes sweeping over the smooth plane of Loki's jaw to the mussed hair that she had haphazardly cut two weeks ago.

With a tenderness that went against her carefully taut leash on her emotions, Rose reached out and ran her fingers through the ends of those raven strands.

Yes, she did love him. Somehow. Impossibly. Ever since she left to bring back the stars. But Rose accepted that impossible part of her. She learned long ago how infinite the capacity for love can be. And as she became a mother and a grandmother, that conviction only grew. That did not mean there wasn't room for conflict and hurt. Rose smirked dryly at the memories of Alastair's thunderous rows with the Doctor. Her late son had the brains of a Time Lord and the Tyler temper, a volatile mix. But she loved them both, and always will. Even when they left her.

So where did that leave her now? In another universe and in the arms of a broken Norse god, was it in her best interest to let that budding love grow?

Rose sighed and rested her hand on Loki's chest. He seemed to have sensed her, because Rose saw his brow furrow in confusion. She kept still as Loki's eyes flickered open. The fleeting bafflement on his face was endearing, but when he tilted his head down to her his eyes widened slightly in surprise and he pulled away as if on instinct.

"Rose…I'm in your bed."

"Eloquent this morning, aren't we?" she grinned. Loki made a face at her in irritation, but the effect was deadened by his bedhead.

"I meant to leave in the night. I apologize," he said quickly. He levered himself up to sit.

"You were comfy," Rose complained, tugging his arm. She winced internally at how petulant she sounded—so much for mature interaction—but after the events of yesterday (and, frankly, the last few weeks) she craved the closeness Loki had offered to her. Loki cocked an eyebrow at her, and Rose watched as he visibly re-evaluated the situation.

"Is that supposed to be an invitation?" Loki finally asked.

"Yes, Guns. If you're afraid of the walk of shame, there's no point in rushin' it," she teased.

"You do have a point," Loki sighed. He inhaled deeply, and Rose felt heat rise to her face as Loki studied her.

Finally, purposefully, he slid back down and lay on his side next to Rose. The two of them were face-to-face with hardly half a foot between his body and hers, and the tension in the room grew ten-fold.

"How are you feelin' today?" Rose asked, attempting to break that tension.

"Better." He paused, and Rose thought he seemed startled by the fact. "A lot, actually. Did you do something while I was asleep?" he asked.

"No," Rose answered, confused. Loki hummed thoughtfully, and then fell back into silence. The awkwardness seemed to ease from the two as they both adjusted to each other's proximity. Rose caught Loki studying her hair for a bit, and an unexpected swell of pleasure went through her when he reached out to lightly run his fingers through it—not unlike what she had been doing a few minutes prior.

"Rose?" he asked after a while.

"Yeah?" she murmured, basking in the attention.

"Will you stay?"

Rose blinked and stared at him questioningly. Loki kept his eyes on his hand in her hair, a mask of indifference on his face. But his voice betrayed the hope that he was keeping behind it.

"You mean after the poison is gone?" Rose prompted. Loki swallowed and pulled his hand away.

"Yes," he said quietly. "You said you will not change me. I will respect that, but if you would stay a short while longer…maybe I can find a way to stand on my own."

Rose did not respond immediately. His request was unexpected, especially after his confession last night. What had changed?

"It is too much to ask. Forgive me." His jaw was tight, already accepting her rejection.

"I'm not sayin' no," Rose said quickly. "It is a lot to ask, but I wouldn't say it's too much."

"But you are not sure if you wish to stay," Loki stated. The dejected expression remained, and Rose rolled her eyes. Really, the man's mind was too bloody convoluted sometimes.

"We need to talk to Odin about this," Rose explained. "I can't extend my stay without his approval, right? And we still haven't established what is to become of you here in Asgard anyway. Maybe that conversation needs to happen sooner than later."

"Perhaps I can suggest you as our royal healer. You can have one of those human uniforms and everything."

"Don't start," Rose warned, smirking. If he was comfortable enough to tease her about nurse outfits now, perhaps this wouldn't be as hard as she thought.

"I'll take that as a maybe," Loki replied evenly, though his eyes glittered impishly.

"Loki."

"Roses?"

Rose kept her gaze on him steady, wishing she did not have to say it, but knowing that if she didn't he might abuse her limits once more.

"If you try anything," she stated, "if you lie to me…I'm gone." Might as well lay down the law now. Give him an inch—

"Your boundaries are clear as ever, Rose," Loki replied, serious now. She appreciated the sorrow in his eyes, and wanted to believe that the stakes were as high to him now as they were to her.

Rose relaxed and took his hand. Whatever she could not put into words, she put into a gentle squeeze as she locked her fingers between his.

"I'll speak with the All-Father. Hopefully he's not too busy for a little chat. As much as I do love a good loophole, you're right. You need to secure your place here if you are to be here longer," Loki said.

"Sounds good. I need to kick you outta here anyway."

"So soon?"

"Yeah, have human things to attend to," Rose said. "I don't know about you Asgardians but showers are a daily thing for me."

She could have sworn Loki's stare had a suggestive glint to it. Oh, how she would love to take him up on that unspoken question, but Rose needed time alone to think.

"See ya later?" Rose smiled. Loki's smile was genuine as he raised their clasped hands to kiss the top of hers.

"Looking forward to it."

He slipped out of the bed, and Rose followed him to the door. She spotted Hermod glance sideways at her after Loki passed. Rose only smiled at her guard before closing her door.

As she lounged in her bath, Rose felt anxiety grow in her stomach. This body was too much like the Doctor's—built to run, to explore. Her exchange with Loki did not change that restless need, even as her stubborn loyalty kept strong through the regeneration. If Odin All-Father approved of lengthening her stay, Rose knew she would not personally be willing to remain in Asgard indefinitely. Loki wouldn't want to be under her influence forever, anyway.

Then there was that buzzing, that irritation at the back of her mind that grew worse with her sessions with Loki. It was strangely animalistic, like a fly throwing itself at the back of her brain, or a wolf's low growl. At first she thought it was a product of the headaches she got when she took on too much of the Other's fog, but it would remain hours after the headaches left. She assumed it was the Vortex or T-Too calling to her in the widening of her cerebral connection with Loki's mind, but it was too faint to tell.

In any case, Rose was beginning to feel the effects of cabin fever.

0o0o0o0o0o0

"Did you bed her?"

"Fandral, I swear if I hear one more word I'm going to put Gorgr worms in your mead again."

"But did you bed her?"

Loki growled at his old friend half-heartedly. The group of them—Thor, the Warriors Three, and Sif—had cornered him after his short conference with the king. He was in too good a mood to have the swordsman to ruin it, anyway. Odin had agreed to meet with him and Rose on the morrow, and more importantly the king seemed open to the idea of the Midgardian continuing her time in Asgard.

Thor and Fandral seemed excited at the idea of Rose continuing her time on Asgard for a bit longer, and Loki had the impression that there had been a wager going around because Fandral harassed Volstagg and Hogun when Loki confirmed that he spent the night in Rose's quarters. It was a petty thing, but for some reason it warmed him to think that the group wished happiness for him and Rose, as ridiculous as the prospect was. He did try to kill them all at some point.

But again, Asgardians were a fickle race. Grudges were held and dropped at the hint of redemption. A particularly imprudent and naïve sentiment that Loki had exploited often throughout the years, but there you have it.

"Insufferable gossip," he muttered. "You are worse than the maids."

"I am interested in hearing the tale of what transpired last night as well," Thor included, grinning. Loki rolled his eyes. It was not as if he had lost his innocence or any such nonsense.

"I don't believe it concerns any of you," Loki said dryly, cocking his brow.

"But you did make things well with Rose?" Thor said, solemn this time. Loki examined his brother, who had been so eager to help him regain the Midgardian's favor. If anything, he was grateful that Thor was concerned with Rose's well-being.

Even when Loki himself neglected it.

"I believe so."

"I'm sure you did 'make things well'," Fandral crowed.

"You're such a pig," Sif scoffed. "How many more millennia will it take for you to become a gentleman for once?"

"I wouldn't hold my breath," Hogun muttered. Volstagg and Fandral laughed, but Thor only paid the jest a passing smile before turning his attention back to the trickster.

"I am glad that you have made an effort to fix things," the blond told him sincerely. "But do not break her heart, Loki."

"Thor—" Loki warned, not liking the accusation in his brother's tone.

"I have to agree with Thor," Sif added. "Can we not have another Sigyn on our hands?"

"Rose Tyler is no Sigyn." Fandral smirked. "Or Svadilfari for that matter. How is your son, by the way?"

It was an old jibe, but irritating nonetheless.

"I am going to go," Loki stated, having had enough blather for today.

"Give Rose a kiss for me, eh?" Fandral quipped after the black-haired prince.

"Oh, do leave him be, Fandral," Volstagg chided quickly, but the rest of the company froze, waiting for the backlash.

Loki was surprised that instead of the wave of vicious jealousy he conjured the last time the man had flirted with Rose, his emotions were well within his control. With a look Loki could see that Fandral's suggestion was harmless. The realization that he could once again read people without the sticky confusion of the fog was thrilling. A small accomplishment in the face of his other faults, but Loki savored it.

But he did pause on his way out, ever eager to have the last word among this assembly.

"And no, I did not bed her."

The collective moan of disappointment followed him out of the corridor, and Loki chuckled.

0o0o0o0o0o0

"Fenrir grows restless."

"Worry not, sister. The Wolf will not interfere against us. She knows the price, and Time must give way to Fate. It is written."

"We will not fail; there is no protection against the flow. Has our Eyes heeded our call?"

"Seidh comes to the temple now, expecting her cue to enter."

Eyes averted and hands clasped in front of her, Seidh rounded the corner and approached the dais, where the Well of Fates stood shrouded by the magic conjured by the Great Ones. Three crouched and hooded figures looked up to watch the Norn's silent trek through the temple.

"Welcome" the youngest Two called. "Sister," the Eldest heralded, Her voice quieter than the others but no less powerful.

"Great Ones," Seidh greeted, bowing deeply at the base of the Well. "You summoned me."

"Indeed, young one. The time draws neigh. Are the vessels ready?"

"The connection is strong," Seidh reported. "The Snake waits at the door. By the second morning light on the Aesir world He will awaken."

"You are troubled."

Seidh hesitated, shame flushing her cheeks at being caught in her doubt. Of course They would know.

"I am wary of the pain to come, for all who must suffer," she murmured, staring at her hands. She felt more than heard the Fates mutter amongst themselves.

"Keep faith, Seidh. Though Fate might not always be clear to your eyes, we can tell you that the strength of Nornheim will see through Ragnarok."

A thread of confusion seeped through Seidh's heart. The Great Ones did not know her mind? They could not see her sentiment for Rose and Loki and Thor growing like a thorn bush in her breast? Seidh had no doubt that she and the rest of her sisters would survive the oncoming Twilight of the Gods. The rebels in the other Realms would be equally rewarded for their loyalty. It had been written.

But the Great One was mistaken; she mourned for the brothers, and for the Defender of Earth. A dangerous thing in its own right—surely They must know that?

She almost corrected the error, but something kept her tongue still. She simply nodded. Two of them seemed satisfied with her motion of solidarity and turned towards the Well, but the Eldest kept Her black eyes fixed on the Norn robed in white. Seidh elected to ignore this along with the growing sense of foreboding as the other Two pulled and wove threads of Time into place within the Well.

Seidh brushed it off as the aftereffects of her nightmares of Ragnarok. Time was never merciful, and every Norn was trained to accept both the good and the bad, and the beyond. She was simply being weak.

"Your service shall not go unrewarded, Seidh," one of the figures rasped, a knarled finger curling a shining string from the Well's depths. "You will herald the Quickening of Jorgmandr on Our behalf."

"Yes," another agreed, smoothing the string and weaving it into place. "Let all know the might of Nornheim. As the Snake opens His maw and the Wolf devours the King, you will call on the fall of Asgard. And so it will be written."

"And so it will be written."

"And so it will be written," the final One whispered, waving a translucent hand over the glowing Well.

"And as such…it is written," Seidh answered automatically, all the while keeping her doubt at bay. She could see them, her charges, making their last day in merriment. In hope. Unaware that something was stirring in the dark, more choking than the Other's poison, more ghastly than Thanos or Davros, and more ancient than Gallifrey and its doomed Time Lords.

Nothing they cherished would be saved. Everything would end when the morning light brushed the cliffs of Asgard.