Author's Note: Thank you all for reading and reviewing my story, and a special thanks to lycanus1 – you give me such great and in-depth feedback, so thank you very, very much!

And I want to use that opportunity to point out one thing that is rummaging through my mind in a while now: I know that this fanfic is getting longer and longer (though I hope that you didn't grow tired of it yet). So for those who feel like it goes on for too long now... I can only suggest that you take the last chapter as a conclusion, I think that actually works, but honestly? When I started writing this fanfic, I wanted to develop those characters – and this relationship. I just had the feeling that they had to come a long way before they finally get down to talk feelings, be honest to each other and admit it to themselves... I often felt like I could have brought them together already, during the ball or when the children-incident came about, but I decided against it... because it was too easy, at least to me. And now I could have ended it also, but... I decided against it, again. To me, it shouldn't just end with a promise made, but that they live by it – and work it. So, if you want to stick with me and what I breed out inside my fanfiction-ridden mind, I'd gladly invite you a bit further on that journey ;)

That being said, I hope I won't deceive your hopes and that you stick with my story.

Read, review, enjoy ;)

In the aftermath of the battle against Gorr – and the revelations that came with it, Thor is still recovering from his injury in the sickbay, just as is Loki, though she is allowed to move around more freely than he is. After all, she makes him lie down in bed, if not by force.

Currently, he is lying in bed, glancing at the ceiling, while she is reading a book, calmly sitting in the chair next to him. Loki's wounds are fading slowly as her magic returns to her, but much to her dismay, it takes longer than she had estimated. Truly, if only she still had all her powers, Loki wouldn't be bound to wait for her magic to return to her that long. But the curses directed at Odin for taking her magic die on her lips before they ever travel past them once her eyes fall upon Thor's. After all, he is still here, he is actually here, and that means that enough power was within her to make that miracle, truly, happen. So where is the point in dreading over the old man's decision?

"By the Gods, Loki, I'm feeling fine. You're the only one who seeks to keep me here," Thor breaks out. He is a man of action after all. And to stare at the ceiling, in the silence of the day... it's torture to him.

"Doctor Banner confirmed that your wounds aren't fully healed yet," Loki argues, not looking up from her book for just a second. "Some traits just never die, do they? You already acted like that as a child."

"And the same is true for you. How many times do I have to tell you that your eyes will become rectangular one day if you keep up that constant reading?" Thor huffs, though a smirk tugs at his lips now. It feels good that they can finally... talk... again. Before, even the trivial conversations always felt like heavy air that made it hard to breathe, hard to talk.

"I live for eons now – and my eyes did not change in shape, ever, unless I wanted them to. It's just something Mother used to say to make me stop," Loki snorts. "Just as she told you that your arm would fall off if you ever dared to make the girl you woo unhappy... or impregnate her before marrying her. You did make the Ladies unhappy numerous times and didn't lose your arm, so I think I will be good reading, hm?"

"Did I make you unhappy?" Thor blinks at her.

"Do you seriously ask me that?" Loki snickers – and yes, it feels actually good to say it, mean it by not meaning it. They can laugh about such things now again, something they couldn't do in a long time.

"Not really," Thor smiles back.

"Good," Loki smiles, before her eyes drift off to her book again.

"What are you reading, then?" Thor asks instead.

"You are sincere?" she blinks at him again. "You hate reading, or rather... books entirely."

"Well, since you make me lie down and stare at the ceiling, I have no better to do," Thor shrugs, grimacing at the pull against his still healing skin. Loki tilts her head before she says, "A story book from Vanaheimr. They have beautiful stories there."

"But only Aesir stories tell about the huge battles," Thor argues.

"And those from Vanaheimr do not, which make them ever so attractive in my eyes," Loki smiles at him. Thor pouts to himself. She knows that he loves the hero's tales of battle and glory of Asgard. Even if it's no longer her home, it's still Thor's. Loki accepted that by now. Especially after they admitted to each other what they felt inside their hearts in eons of time. Even if Thor is more than the Prince of Asgard, he is it, too, it's part of his being, his soul. He feels ties to this realm. This is his home, this is his place, it contains the people he considers family other than Loki and the Avengers. May it be that it's not Thor's blood calling, but it's still his home calling, his family. And Loki won't deny him that. Just because she failed to make Asgard her home doesn't mean that he has to suffer them same kind of destiny. No, she doesn't want him to. She doesn't want him to hurt anymore.

"I will go down if I have to stay here for much longer," he sighs. Loki can't help but smile, though she hides it behind the pages of her book.

"You will not. You are just being overly dramatic, Thor," she sighs, rolling her emerald eyes at him. Though she can't deny that she enjoys it, personally. Not necessarily that Thor is struggling that much, the least because he is hurt, but because it feels normal again, to be around each other, be close. And she loves this silence. Except for occasional visits, they are on their own. After the revelations that came with the end of this battle, they are still in that blissful state of in-between, not yet exposed to the world, like a newborn that didn't see the outside of the nursery yet. For once, there are no expectations other than their own. There is just them – and Loki likes it, because there was no "them" for so long now.

"Well... then what do you wish to happen other than that I let you go to take your mind out of its misery?" Loki asks with a huff. Thor turns his face to her, "I don't know. We could talk, just... do something."

"Well, right now is not the best of times, since I want to read this book," Loki smirks.

"Read it out to me, then," Thor suggests.

"You are kidding me, right? Thor, how old are you?" she snorts. Even with their souls connected now, that man keeps on surprising her.

"There is nothing childish about hearing great stories. Now that I am on earth so much... I rarely get to hear the tall tales of our homes," Thor argues.

"Vanaheimr is not our home," Loki narrows her eyes at him.

"But we spent a lot of time there – and undertook many adventures and quests," Thor debates.

"But those are not the ones I read," Loki snorts. "I don't see the sense in reading a story about myself. I find it odd to see how others may see my character, for they usually do it wrongly, so... no."

"I don't mind," Thor shrugs. "Those are stories to my liking."

"You don't even know the stories, Thor," Loki chuckles.

"It doesn't matter for as long as it's you reading them. No one can tell tall tales the way you do. I always loved to hear them from you," Thor smiles at her, now much more honestly. It's truth told. Of course Thor took great pleasure in boasting about his adventures in front of people and friends, but it was Loki who could tell the great tales of the different realms, painting them in colors with just his intonation and voice. It was a subtle way, with small gestures, in contrast to his own. Loki did not need the strengths of the gestures to convey the meaning, his voice was enough to carry across, bring color to the canvas of imagination. And Thor always loved that. He can still recall how much he loved it when they were both still lads, and long since too old for their mother to read out to them. He and Loki were on either one's bed, Thor playing around with some ball while Loki read out the stories to him. Just as it is now, Thor insisted that Loki read them out to him while he listened to his gentle voice. They spent hours like this, as though the world was gone for a few moments, hidden behind the tall tales slipping from the younger prince's lips.

"Ugh, you're such a big stupid oaf, Thor," Loki rolls her emerald eyes at him.

"Read it out," Thor insists. He knows it's foolish, but it feels nice to be foolish without truly being foolish for once, foolish in the sense that they fail to say what all know, fail to be what both want to be, simply fail.

"I'm not a dog you can command," Loki snorts.

"Read it to me, please?" Thor smiles at her. Another thing he always loved about Loki was this defiance – that the trickster still had to deflect, even though both long since knew that Loki would give in eventually. So Thor is not the only one who did not yet manage to get rid of all childish mannerisms and kinks.

"I wanted to read, not read out," Loki corrects him.

"Please," Thor tries again. She looks at him sternly.

"Please," he says another time.

"You are a lousy patient, you know that, right?" she huffs.

"If I were a good patient, I wouldn't ever leave the sickbay. I think the less you like it, the more likely you are to stay away from it," Thor smirks at her.

"Och, you spent more time in the sickbay than any of the Warrior Three or the Lady Sif, even," Loki snorts dismissively.

"And yet, even as a lousy patient I always was, you used to read out to me," Thor snickers. She smiles, rolling her eyes. In fact, Loki did, but back then it was to annoy him, at least when they were still young lads. It was during a time in which they were still required to learn the stories of Asgard, the customs, the rules... and Loki had taken it upon himself to make sure Thor "kept up with his studies", which meant that he came to the sickbay everyday to read the assignment out to him, against Thor's pleading and whining to just stop.

"And yet, you used to hate it," Loki returns, cocking an eyebrow at him. Even if they reached a kind of peace, that doesn't mean she will no longer fight him for the smaller things.

"Well, we are no longer children, so it is no longer studies that you force upon me," Thor chuckles.

"Oh, you should know, everything is studies, Thor. Books are knowledge. And by reading it, you study it," Loki argues. Thor smirks at her, waits. She narrows her eyes, but then lets out a sigh and glances down at her book, "... There once was, a long time ago, a man who sought an adventure, having grown tired of the duties of the peasantry. And so he set out for his voyage that changed his life entirely..."

And so she starts to tell the story in front of her, her voice as soothing as a lullaby. Thor smirks, happy about the small battle he won, and eases back down, allowing himself to close his eyes and drift, enchanted by her voice. Time passes with only them in the intimacy of their little haven. Lost in the stories of different cultures, lost in time, their in-between.

Eventually, Loki finishes the story in a soft voice, hearing the not-so-soft snores coming from the thunderer. She chuckles to herself as she closes the book and gets up from her chair. Loki makes her way over to the door and closes it silently behind her.

"Oh, hey there," rings a voice behind her as she walks down the hallways. Loki whips her head around to come face-to-face with Tony, who flashes his trademark smirk at her.

"You are aware that it does not befit to sneak up behind people," she hisses sarcastically.

"You do that all the time," he snorts.

"Because it befits my character," she grins back at him. "So... what brings you here?"

"I actually own that place, first of all," Tony scolds playfully. "And second, I wanted to see how you guys are doing. We barely got to see you ever since... Gorr tried to make earth his personal butchery."

"Well, if you wish to see Thor, I suggest you go in some time later the day. He is asleep now. And only the Gods know how much it takes for that dull oaf to actually lie still for more than a few hours," she rolls her eyes. Tony tilts his head at the book still tugged under arm, before a huge smile spreads over his face, "Seriously? So that's what you're doing there all day long? Reading bedtime stories to Thor?"

"Are you jealous because I didn't read one to you?" Loki smirks, narrowing her eyes.

"Oh, yeah, totally," Tony snickers.

"Thought so," she huffs. "I shall come to you tonight to tuck you in and read it to you, Master Stark."

"I will take you up on that," Tony winks at her.

"I bet Lady Potts will be delighted," Loki snorts.

"So... Thor's sleeping it off. Then... how are you?" Tony asks, now actually with a hint of concern in his voice, especially once his eyes fall upon her still bruised throat.

"By far better than he is, though he likes to claim the opposite," she shrugs. "I just have to wait for my magic to return to me."

"But it does, right? I mean... from the sound of it...," Tony grimaces.

"I feel it coming back to me, there is no need to worry," she assures him. "I will be ready to battle soon again to earn my living."

"Hey, I don't mean it like that. I just know that you and magic belong together. It'd suck if you lost that because of... whatever it was that you did out on that battlefield," Tony puckers his lips. Loki glances at him, seeing the true care of a friend radiating within his eyes. Is Thor really right? Did she actually win? At moments such as these, it seems easy to believe, Loki has to admit. She won friends, even if they are all curious cases, but perhaps that is why she likes them. They are like her in that regard: not like any other, different, against all odds, yet... caring.

"It will return soon," she smiles at him.

"Good," he smiles back at her.

"Good," she nods.

"So, what are your plans now? If you don't do reading hours with Thor?" Tony smirks.

"I'm in dear need of some fresh air," she smiles softly.

"Alright, well, then I won't disturb you further. Just make sure you pass by some time. It's getting kinda boring without your tricks and morbid humor," he pats her on the shoulder gently.

"I will remember that," she winks back at him. "I will see you later."

Tony nods before he heads his ways, as does she. Loki maneuvers to the next-best elevator and makes it to the roof, a place she bypassed ever since the day she tried to jump off, end her life, end this existence, the pain inside her chest, so hard, so cold, so dreading that it suffocated her. Loki didn't necessarily fear the height or the memories flooding back to her. It was more of a security net. To keep herself from doing what she started that very day, but failed to complete because of a friend's words, because of hope she dared to hold on to.

Loki closes the door behind her, a strong breeze catching her hair and blowing it in all directions of the wind at the same time. She blinks against the sunlight evading her eyes, dip-painting her emeralds a shade of gold. She steps over to the edge, to the spot where she once stood, absently running a hand across the rough surface, the coldness of the stone, the moist of yesterday's rain. The trickster takes a moment to close her eyes and concentrate on the sensation and what feelings it sparks within her. Loki is searching for dread and despair, of lightning striking behind her eyes to make her draw away from the surface, to break off contact and hence the hurtful memory of the life she almost ended that very day.

However, the dread won't come. So Loki climbs upon the edge and sits down, allowing her legs to dangle over the rim, dancing in the air. She glances down on the little spheres of color roaming along the busy streets. Loki smirks that she is high enough for the noises of the streets not to reach her ears. She just loves silence, which is probably one of the best explanations for her fancy of books and libraries. She loves the silent places, the words left unspoken, and that despite her title as the Silvertongue.

Loki tests the waters one last time and scoots a bit closer to the edge, not because she actually wants to jump, but because she wants to make sure – that she pulls back. And she does. Her body, once the fleeting feeling surges her that she is too close, that there is no ground beneath her to catch her, she moves back again, holds on firmly to the stone, and doesn't let go. It's a sensation Loki knows she lacked in a long time, even before she stood on that roof to jump. Already at an early age, Loki lost this certain boundary, or rather, never had it. The trickster can still remember one incident when she was a boy and stood out on the balconies of Asgard's palace to glance down, much like she does at this very moment. Without hesitation, without even thinking, Loki had gotten atop the railing, sat down on the edge and leaned over as far as his arms allowed him to – and further. Not for a second, not for the briefest of moments did he fear to lose balance, fall down, die. No, he was actually more concerned that he didn't get to see what was below him as Frigga had caught sight of him and yanked him back over the rim with all her might. Loki just tilted his head curiously and asked what the fuss was about and why his mother cried – because, honestly, he didn't understand back then. And it continued to be that way. Falling was a sensation Loki never feared, actually welcomed. Once he grew older, the God of Mischief concealed it behind the mask of trick and scheme, though. One time, the group was on its way to a mission and had stopped halfway on the Bifröst – because of a heated argument between Volstagg and Fandral that almost escalated. The trickster just grew so incredibly tired of everyone trying to mediate when in truth all just joined the argument that he simply took a few well-measured steps back and jumped off the Bifröst, spread-eagle, with a smile on his face as he disappeared below the Rainbow Bridge. The expression on Thor's face had been priceless to the younger man back then. Once Loki came back up on one of his energy shields, he laughed so hard that tears involuntarily sprung to his eyes. Even if by the time he understood that people actually should feel afraid of height or the fall, to him... it never made sense. That moment always had something magical to Loki. It's just one moment in the entire fall, this very verge between standing and falling, once you know that the inevitable comes and that the abyss will claim you – and that is when you just let go. To Loki, that was the first and for a long time only taste of freedom he ever felt within him. And it was that kind of freedom he felt when the Bifröst collapsed after his scheme and he just... let go, again. That was a moment in which he heard the deep bell, and then... nothing. Silence. And that was perhaps what fascinated him the most about falling all along.

A fall is silent, if you let it happen. Everything around you just blurs into stripes of color, threads that extend into eternity to mesh into white and black. Sound is so far distorted that your breath rings above it. You don't think. You dare to exhale. Everything just leaves you, hits the ground long before you do.

Yet, Loki sees it differently now. In the retrospective, this feeling of freedom was a wrong sensation, for ultimately, the fall never brought her the freedom she sought. When the God of Mischief was on that balcony and Frigga pulled him back, he was caught up in his mother's tears and had from this day on for the longest time people watching him, Thor and Odin included, to make sure he doesn't do such a reckless thing again, after all... Loki really wanted to. When he did that to scare Thor and the others out of their minds at an older age, out on the Bifröst, he was caught up in the anger and forced silence that Thor treated him with as his only way to punish him for the scare he gave the older brother. It took Thor almost a month until he came to Loki's room and admitted that he was just so angry at the trickster because Thor had been so utterly afraid that Loki fell... and wouldn't resurface. And that Loki's laughter had made it ever the harder for him – because Thor didn't find it funny in the least, no, he had been in terror, or so he told Loki. And that was when actually dread started to pull at the God of Mischief – and dread cannot be freedom, can it? And then, much later, when Loki fell into the abyss beneath the Bifröst, he ended up with the Chitauri. And to say the least... it was just another prison, stuck in another realm, to the feet of those awful monsters in the hope that they bring him his ticket out of this place. So truly, when Loki fell, it never brought about anything good, and never meant freedom. Now she knows that the lie behind this surge of freedom was that Loki completely ignored that there was something worth holding on to, just those people who held their hands out to the trickster – and didn't want Loki to fall.

And now? Now, for the first time since Loki can recall, she finds herself finally, finally pulling back, pulling away from the edge. Not out of fear, but simply because there is more pulling her towards solid ground than to the unknown abyss. And isn't that actually proof for what Thor promised her? That there is now something she may dare to hold on to – because it is hers now? Loki silently smiles to herself, allowing the strong breeze to embrace her and the stone wall beneath her to claim her, make her stay – and keep her from falling.

A while later, she hears her pager buzz. Loki quickly takes it out to glance at the screen, a message generated by JARVIS: Mr. Thor wants to see you, immediately. Loki grimaces as she quickly gets up and makes her way to the elevator. If it were something medical, Bruce would have informed her, not Thor himself. This is simply making no sense to her, which only makes her worry rise... worry, still sounding ironic coming from her at some point, so Loki can't help but think for a second.

Once the door of the elevator opens, Loki strides over to the sickbay to where Thor's room is. She gets inside, just to find the thunderer pacing, nervously shaking and pulling at the hair close to his scalp. Loki barely saw him that distressed, if ever.

As he hears the door open, Thor turns around, his eyes are immediately on hers, "Loki."

"... what's the matter here?" Loki grimaces, staying in her spot close to the door, unsure what to make of it.

"I woke up and then you were... I couldn't find you. I didn't know where you were," he blinks, starting to pace again.

"... you were asleep, so I took off for a while," she grimaces, daring come a bit closer.

"To where?" he demands, his blue eyes suddenly shimmering with a hint of anger, but that fury falters as soon as it travels past his eyes. He bows his head and holds on to his scalp more painfully.

"Where were you?" he asks again, softer now.

"I was outside. I needed some fresh air," Loki says. "I was out on the roof."

"What?!" he turns to her, now dread in his eyes. "Please don't tell me that you..."

"No, no, no. I just wanted some fresh air. I didn't want to jump," she assures him quickly, noting that it sounds much odder once you spell it out.

"Then why didn't you just go for a walk?" he demands once again.

"... because my wounds aren't healed yet and I look like a victim of violence who got choked out?" Loki grimaces uncertainly.

"I couldn't find you," Thor growls again. Loki blinks at him as he continues to pace. She tilts her head as she dares to move closer by a few feet – and that is when realization dawns on her.

"Oh... I have to apologize," Loki sighs.

"For what?" he frowns at her.

"I'm the one who causes your... bad disposition," Loki shrugs.

"What? Why?" Thor grimaces at her. "I don't even know what that is. Now you are here and I shouldn't be upset, yet I am. My entire body, it's..."

"Sit back down, then I explain it all to you, c'mon," Loki ushers him. Thor goes with it, the confusion still winning over him. Loki takes the chair and pulls it up close to his bed.

"So what now?" Thor demands nervously.

"You tell me, you're calmer now, aren't you?" Loki flashes a soft smile at him. Thor takes a moment to focus, and in fact the crawling of his skin subsided a bit.

"Yes," Thor frowns. "But how so? What is this?"

"It is my bad. I didn't think that this might be a side-effect," Loki bites her lower lip.

"Side-effect?" he blinks at her. "From the spell?"

"Yes. The thing is that... your soul is still restoring itself. You were far gone, Thor," Loki says, her voice dying out towards the end. The thought still didn't leave her. Even if Loki is actually more open about the end of her own life, at least it was for the longest of times, it's dreading her that Thor was that far away, stood on that very cliff.

"It took a lot of energy out of your soul to crawl back over that edge. The hole inside your soul was deep and gaping... I lent you the energy needed to fill this space, so that you may have enough to manage the jump back, but... your soul is seemingly still seeking my soul, to rejuvenate," she explains, her voice almost humming.

"... does that mean that you have to stay within my close periphery from this day on?" he grimaces.

"No, it is only until you are healed again. That will be in a few days time, I assure you. Or else I would have to kill you anyway... I wouldn't want you to cling at my coat-tails for all eternities. That would be too humiliating for the both of us," she snorts playfully.

"I wouldn't fancy that either," Thor admits with a smirk. "It would become increasingly difficult in battle."

Loki smiles at him with a bit uncertainty tainting her features as she stretches out her hand and takes his palm into hers. Thor blinks at her. Even if they are now clearer about their feelings, Loki actually kept a slight distance, other than staying in the room with him for most of the time. As Thor figures, it's Loki's way of keeping up a bit of control – over him. Yet, that is not really new to the thunderer. Loki has been like that since early childhood. Somehow, the trickster always seeks power, even for the little things in life. Yet, to suddenly have her clutching his hand comes as a surprise to him.

"It gets easier with physical contact," she shrugs, and in fact, Thor can feel the tension fleeting from his body with every breath he takes. It gets easier. His mind starts to focus again.

"I don't even know what this is. I was fine before," Thor grimaces, feeling utterly ridiculous.

"Because I spent most of my time here with you, if not next door to sleep. I suppose that the roof was a bit too far away, and that is why you suffer such a... strong reaction now," she explains, before she adds almost apologetically, "I honestly didn't know that, though. I read in that old book that there might be some side-effects, but I never thought that they'd be... like this."

"Perhaps that is why Mother also forbade you this spell. As children we were inseparable anyways. Now just imagine if we had been bound like this thanks to a chant," Thor chuckles softly.

"She would have gone insane, that much is for certain," she agrees.

"My hands just won't stop shaking," Thor winces. He never had that, never felt like this before. Generally, his hands never shook. Thor was always certain of every move he made. His body never failed him. His mind, his heart – more often than he'd like to admit, but his body, no. If everything else wavered, his hands were still steady as they gripped Mjölnir. But now? Now his hands are shaking – and it just won't stop.

"Just calm down. Call it to your mind, I'm not gone. I'm here, focus on that," Loki says in a soothing voice, and Thor honestly tries to concentrate on Loki's voice in his ears and the fleeting warmth creeping through her fingertips. The thunderer feels utterly ridiculous. To be that much in need of proximity is even new to him. Of course Thor always felt a strong urge to be around Loki. After what they admitted to each other, it is obvious why that is so, but it's different now. His skin feels as though it's on fire, and that fire is made of ice. So cold that it burns hot again. His muscles move on their own. Thor feels detached of his body, while at the same time caught up within it.

Loki glances at Thor's hands which still involuntarily flex. Mother did well at warning them of that chant – it has more side-effects than Loki had estimated, to be perfectly honest. She doesn't want him hurting – and Thor looks like he is hurting at this, even if not physically, feeling real pain, but she can feel this dread within him, the insecurity, two emotions that are all too familiar to her, but maybe not so familiar to Thor altogether. After all, the God of Thunder was practically born without insecurities about himself.

"Lie down," she instructs him after a few moments of silent contemplation. Thor grimaces at her, but then goes with it anyway. At this time, he finds his thoughts flee to unknown grounds anyway. His body took over, or rather, his needy soul – and it seeks its soulmate, as it seems, and that is Loki after all.

"And now scoot over," she says, keeping her face a straight line. Thor frowns even more at this, but Loki doesn't waver, so the thunderer moves over, fighting any urge not to yelp as she suddenly lets go of his hand. But that is when the trickster gets up from her chair, sits down on the rim of the bed and lies down next to him. She draws close enough for their lower legs to touch and her breath to meet his throat.

"Is it better now?" she asks in a mixture of annoyance and softness. Thor can't help but smile as he replies, "Oh, by far better."

"You shouldn't get too used to it. I only do that because I take my responsibility as a sorceress very seriously," she smirks.

"Responsibility as a sorceress, how do I understand that?" Thor chuckles softly.

"If you cast a spell, you have to live and deal with its consequences. I cast the spell... I deal with it," Loki shrugs, which makes a few of her raven curls fall over her shoulders.

"So you are merely taking responsibility of a chant gone wrong," Thor grins. "That is... depressing."

"You know what they say... you have to take what you get, Thor," Loki scolds playfully, though her voice grows softer with every word traveling past her lips, her breath evening out. Perhaps it's still the aftermath of the fight, her tiredness, or the exhaustion of the spell, but to Loki, the reason is actually embedded into faint childhood memories of shared beds when either one just crept into the other one's room after a nightmare, or simply not to be alone... and then the memory of the night she spent as Maya, where they lied in bed just like this after the act, on the verge of falling asleep, held hands and looked each other in the eye, so that they may be the last thing they see before the blissful silence of the night claimed them.

And as if Thor actually sensed what went through her mind – or felt the same, he grabs her hand, just the way they did that night. Though it's not night, but sunset and it's not dark, but a warm shade of orange, this kind of orange that creeps all the way beneath your skin, leaving nothing but warmth behind. The same kind of silence, tranquility, the same kind of intimacy. This room without walls that allows no sound to come inside, engulfing them, stealing time for them. Yet, it's not the same - because it's not Maya, it's her, Loki. Thor is holding her hand, and she is holding his, and there is nothing between them. For a moment, it's just them as they allow to drift off into sleep, getting lost in the feeling of being found within the other.

And their hands don't let go.