Mini-series of Loki and Sigyn set after Dark Star.

Chapter One: Anchor

Falling. Shattered pieces of the Bifrost floated around him like the broken fragments of his heart. He slipped through the branches of Yggdrasil and into the fingers of darkness. Screams jarred the eerie silence. His mind had no time to wonder who was screaming, but Loki realized it was him. The disgusted look on Odin's face crossed his mind. No Loki. The shocking shame made him loosen his grip on Gungnir.

Thor, petrified in horror, reached to grab Loki's wrist. For a moment hope swelled in his chest that Thor, his adopted brother, his protector, would also be his savior. But he was not quick enough. For a moment Thor's calloused hand almost touched Loki's own soft one, but only managed to brush empty air. Tears streamed down Thor's face as he watched Loki fall.

Loki felt icy tears form in his own eyes when he realized no one would save him. Once again, he was abandoned. Left to die in the raging winter of Jotunheim And now abandoned to plummet to his death in the cosmos. Unloved. He could not even die with dignity.

For a while, Loki screamed his protest until his throat was raw and nothing more than a muted sob pushed its way past his lips. The very foundation of time melted into a sap that Loki would remain suspended in until Ragnarok. Loki's closed his eyes in defeat. He could not take the eternal blackness suffocating him. He prayed to any deity that would hear, and out of mad desperation, to Odin himself, for Death to release him. The darkness cocooned him like a thick, woolen blanket, and as Loki was pulled under the cloak of oblivion, his final thought was this was the only thing his "father" had done right.

As the fog smothered him, he heard a cruel voice taunting, "Your happiness can only las for so long, little prince. We will find her. Do you think you know suffering now? You thought it ended? The end is always the beginning..." Cold laughter cluttered his ears and bounced around his skull, and even as he faded, the echo of Death remained.

Loki woke to twin tears on his cheeks and an empty bed. Usually, her arm was wrapped securely around his waist, and he would be roused by a teasing smile gracing her lips. But this morning, there was no solid embrace to anchor him. Panic crept into Loki's heart, and for a moment he thought Thanos had fulfilled his promise to take Sigyn-his Sigyn from him. Loki's heart nearly ruptured, and panicked, shallow breaths forced their way through his nose. Dizziness gripped Loki as his sanity slipped. He tried to remember how to breathe, and his heart finally slowed down.

Loki stared around the empty chambers. The shadows writhed, and Loki shuddered as repressed memories danced in his skull. Yet a tiny crack of light emitting from the bottom of a doorway dispelled some of the darkness. Relief washing over him, he realized Sigyn was in the bathroom.

A frown settled on his lips. Every morning, Sigyn had slipped out of bed to go to the washroom and to return almost twenty minutes later, looking pale and bilious. Loki's suspicion was confirmed when he felt the vacant side of the bed. It was cold. Loki decided to confront Sigyn about her new habit. And though a part of him hated to admit it, he feared she would not be there until he saw her.

Striding to the door, Loki's hand reached for the knob only to find it was locked. The skin around his lips tightened. He knocked on the door, hoping she would relent. But being the strong-willed woman who valued her independence, Sigyn allowed the door to remain a barrier between them.

"Sigyn, älskling," he called, his voice husky from the nightmare, "are you alright?"

No reply. Loki sighed, part exasperation, and part fear. "Sigyn, back away from the door. I am coming in." Narrowing his eyes in concentration, Loki raised his arm, summoned magic, and directed his hand towards the lock. Green energy shimmered around his hand, and with a flick of his wrist, he cast it towards the doornail. One blast later, and the door gave way. Loki stepped into the cool bathroom, his bare feet slapping against the marble floor.

Sigyn slumped tiredly against the latrine, and even from a distance, Loki could see a sickly sheen of sweat coating her brow. Her hazel eyes widened when she noticed him approaching, and the woozy expression paining her face worsened. As Loki approached Sigyn, she opened her mouth, and he thought to speak, but a spasm wracked her body, and she gave a soft gasp before leaning over the side of the side of the tub to heave.

Crouching beside her, Loki stroked her back with one hand, while the other brushed stray tendrils of hair away from her face. He felt her spine grow rigid under his hand as she straightened and turned her head away in shame, refusing to look at him. Though Sigyn tried to scoot away from him, Loki seized her wrist. He could feel her rapid pulse drumming against his fingers. He laid his palm across Sigyn's forehead, expecting it to be warm, only to be surprised when her skin felt clammy.

Loki rose, and Sigyn tried to push herself up and follow him. When he noticed, he fixated Sigyn with a glare, sternly warning, "Stay."

Defeated, she sank to the floor, sagging against the side of the tub. Worry prickled at Loki's mind when his wife did not protest. She must truly ill not to protest. Eying her for a moment, he retreated to their antechambers to retrieve a glass of water. The mundane task helped soften the edges of concern piercing Loki's mind, if only for a moment.

When Loki returned, Sigyn was still slumped against the tub. Her tired eyes flashed up to meet his. Crouching beside her again, pressed the water glass into her hand. He watched as she drank greedily, finishing the drink in a few gulps.

"Better?" Loki asked, taking the cup from her grasp and setting it on the edge of the tub.

"Yes," Sigyn answered, her voice hoarse from illness. "Thank you." Now that the role of concerning husband was fulfilled, next came the interrogation.

"How long?" he simply asked, his green eyes dull with solemnity. His usual emerald green eyes that glinted with a secret jubilation when he looked upon Sigyn was hardened by shadows. Though he stared at her expectantly, awaiting an answer, Sigyn hesitated the more she scrutinized the sharp angles in the planes of his face, the tightness in the lines of his body, the downward pull of his lips, the slight anxious furrow to his brow...Sigyn was convinced it had more to do with than her. But she knew she would not get an answer until she gave one herself.

"A few days," Sigyn answered quietly, watching in resignation as the lines shaping his figure grew more rigid.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded. Under the thick layers of anger in his voice, Sigyn detected the hurt.

"Because you worry after me too much as it is," Sigyn gently responded.

"I am your husband, Sigyn; it is my duty! Especially when my own wife refuses to tell me when she is ill!" His jaw tightened, and his voice became more brittle. Sigyn winced but lifted her chin to meet his scorching gaze. Behind the shadows of his eyes, Sigyn saw panic.

"It only occurs in the mornings, and then it is gone. That was the worst of it," she assured him. She softened. "I did not tell you because you would neglect your health for mine."

"Clearly you need it," he retorted. He turned his head away.

"Loki," Sigyn breathed, her hands reaching to cup his chin. Her fingers stroked his prominent cheekbones, tracing soothing circles. She was surprised to find his cheekbones damp with two invisible droplets. Despite her fragile grasp, Loki did not retreat. He leaned his forehead against hers before brushing a kiss to temple. A sigh escaped his lips.

" I know you had a nightmare, Loki," she murmured, burrowing her face into his chest. The crown of her head nestled between his neck and the crook of his arm, and her cheek rested against the hollow of his throat. She could feel Loki's uneasy pulse thumping against hers. Sigyn frowned; either his skin usually cool skin was too warm or hers too cold.

"Loki," Sigyn gently sighed. He did not respond. His eyes had slipped closed. Sigyn pressed a kiss to his forehead. His eyelashes tickled her face as his eyes fluttered open. "Loki," she reiterated, her firm voice anchoring him. "Tell me what happened."

"Thanos," he whispered. "I was falling. I was slipping through darkness and time froze. There was nothing but darkness...no release. When I thought it was over...he whispered 'The end is always the beginning.' He promised to take you from me! Sigyn, when will it ever stop?" His brittle voice shattered like pieces of the Bifrost, embedding themselves into Sigyn's heart.

Loki's face contorted with pain, and a despair she had not seen in years. His glassy gaze was lost in the past, and once again, she would have to pull him back. Withdrawing Sigyn hand from his cheek, she placed her palm on his heart, and brought his hand from his side to rest on her breastbone, right underneath the steady drum of her heart. It was a familiar, natural gesture between them. A unspoken promise of fidelity. Safety. Security. And most importantly, love.

And as always, it was enough to bring her Loki back to her. The storm clouds from his eyes vanished, revealing clear green eyes. "I am still here. I will always be here. Nothing in the Nine Realms is strong enough change that," Sigyn assured him. "You know this, Loki," she added softly. "I promised myself to you, to love you to stay by your side, until every star burns and falls from the sky and Ragnarok descends upon us. And even that, cannot put us asunder."

"I know," Loki murmured. "But you weren't there. And you haven't been for the past few days." His voice gained a hollow quality that echoed in the spacious room and resonated in Sigyn's skull. "Do you know what is like to awaken every morning to find the person you love most gone and fearing that she is lost to you forever. And to continue experiencing that same terror everyday, as it slowly engulfs you, more and more? Do you, Sigyn?" Icicles crystallized in his voice before breaking into a thousand pieces of anger and pain, but not until they were hurled into Sigyn's heart.

She watched in horror as tears pooled in his eyes, and spilled over Loki's lashes, carving rivers down the slopes of his cheekbones. His arms encircled his middle as his chest rose and fell sporadically, like he had forgotten how to breathe. He looked like a lost child. Sigyn's eyes blurred with a veil of tears. I did this to him.

"I'm sorry, Loki!" She tried to blink the stinging tears away, but the stubborn droplets of remorse fell like rain. Her arms reached to grasp him, and she enfolded him in an embrace. It was Loki's turn to stare at her in remorse. The angles sharpening his face softened with regret and concern. He gently gathered her in his arms, pressing her head to his chest. The tautness of his body vanished when Sigyn laid her hand on his heart, and she felt his erratic pulse even.

"I am sorry," she murmured repeatedly.

"Hush, Sigyn," he he whispered, tenderly placing a kiss on her forehead. She suspected it was more than a display of affection; he was checking her skin for signs of fever. "Forgive me for yelling at you, especially when you are ill." She knew how hard apologies were for him, and her heart danced at the simple but earnest words. Her only response was to snuggle closer to him.

Loki scooped her up from the floor and made his way to their chambers, gently depositing her on the bed. She felt the mattress dip under his weight as he joined her. His arm snaked around her waist. For a while Sigyn was content to listen to his deep and even breathing. When they woke, he would insist on her visiting Eir. Until then, Sigyn settled into a peaceful sleep. Loki would be there to anchor Sigyn, and she, him.