For Asgard!

Promises from Loki often had the substance of ash; holding perfect form, but easily swept away. Still, while he was a liar he was not wholly dishonourable. In his desperation it was easy to ignore honour, that was true; but with so many people bombarding him with stories and feelings and lives it was easy to see, as well, how emotional he was, and how his emotions manipulated his mind. He was not a cold and calculated person, as he wished to be, and as was the image he often projected. He was burning with feeling, and it was a fire that he could often succumb to. The revelation of his birth had knocked him farther from control than he would have expected.

So when he told Sif he would think of her arguments - and thus, everyone else's - he did mean it. He didn't know what the future held and how it would sway him, but perhaps he would still be able to hold onto that. He gave Sif's hand a final squeeze and then let his fingers slip from hers, but slowly. If he left the Nexus, he would certainly return to it, if it was in his power. He could only hope that when he did so, his companions would still be there, waiting for him. Or they might have moved on. Time was so fickle and he had yet to discover the intricacies of its flow in the hotel.

He tipped his head to the side. "The pain?" he asked. That was certainly not something anyone had mentioned before. "You're doing it again, Sif. Feeding me bits and pieces." Still his voice was mild, thoughtful. "You may wait if you wish. But I daresay, don't let your concern of my future distract you from your own. I'm sure you have much more ahead of you, just like the rest of us. Maybe I can be a part of it in a way that doesn't upset you."