This is not particularly strange or unusual by any means. There are plenty of daemons who rarely speak, especially to others. Tony's daemon named Apollo, a lanky spider monkey that tucks itself in the groove of his neck rarely says a word. Though he does take great delight in interrupting Tony in key moments which always makes Tony splutter or calm down. Daemons were always the other half, the space between. The great connector. There were tons of literature on daemons, ranging from religious texts to new scientific discussions. HYDRA had done experiments on daemons and Steve had never forgotten the empty-eyed creates in cages, simply waiting for their limbs to turn to gold dust.
Loki often has that look. A hunger for an end. Whether it means death or not, Steve doesn't know. Doesn't ask. It was the one weakness he does not mind as much as the others because it is a weakness no one else shares. No one asks about Loki.
( No one asks about Steve either. They care, but he can see the fringes of it in their eyes, overlaid with awe. He's made followers of his friends and it bites into his palms every time he picks up the shield. )
They lounge about in Steve's roof. Sabella seems to be sleeping on Loki's lap. She does not purr as Loki runs silent fingers over her fur. Both Steve and Marcus, his Tibetan Mastiff, watch this even though this is a normal sight. And yet, Steve finds himself pushing ahead
"Why doesn't Sabella say anything?" He asks suddenly. Marcas gives him a solemn look (which is really a dirty look, but Steve ignores it)
Loki's eyes, which were closed, the dark dusting of his eyelashes against his pale skin, open, half-lidded. The green is so striking. Steve has never felt as if he's lost Loki's attention, though sometimes he wonders if he can ever bear the full scrutiny of Loki's gaze. It could swallow up the world.
( sometimes, he wished it would )
"She can't," Loki replies when Steve had almost given up. He starts, automatically laying a hand on Marcus.
"Why not?"
Sabella does not move. She can still shift shapes (unnatural, someone had whispered. Steve whipped his head, almost wanting to lash out, but Loki merely raised his head and walked on) but the form of a grey fox was one she preferred to be in. If there was a reason for it, neither Loki or Sabella had the words to explain it. No one could adequately explain the nature of daemons, not even Gods.
Loki hums to chase away the coat of silence that slips and slides over the room, overcast, "When we fell, she screamed for me. Until she could scream no more. So I speak for both of us."
Oh.
Marcas growled softly as Steve rubbed behind his ears. Loki's lips twitch as he reaches out for Steve's hand. Without thinking, he reaches out, curling his fingers on Loki's. His hands seem so much larger.
"Steve," Loki says gently, the corner of his eyes crinkling, "I'm not screaming right now."
It's not enough, he finds, the restlessness building in his chest. It's not enough and it's not right. Marcus rests his head on Steve's knee as they sit there.
steve/loki
This is not particularly strange or unusual by any means. There are plenty of daemons who rarely speak, especially to others. Tony's daemon named Apollo, a lanky spider monkey that tucks itself in the groove of his neck rarely says a word. Though he does take great delight in interrupting Tony in key moments which always makes Tony splutter or calm down. Daemons were always the other half, the space between. The great connector. There were tons of literature on daemons, ranging from religious texts to new scientific discussions. HYDRA had done experiments on daemons and Steve had never forgotten the empty-eyed creates in cages, simply waiting for their limbs to turn to gold dust.
Loki often has that look. A hunger for an end. Whether it means death or not, Steve doesn't know. Doesn't ask. It was the one weakness he does not mind as much as the others because it is a weakness no one else shares. No one asks about Loki.
( No one asks about Steve either. They care, but he can see the fringes of it in their eyes, overlaid with awe. He's made followers of his friends and it bites into his palms every time he picks up the shield. )
They lounge about in Steve's roof. Sabella seems to be sleeping on Loki's lap. She does not purr as Loki runs silent fingers over her fur. Both Steve and Marcus, his Tibetan Mastiff, watch this even though this is a normal sight. And yet, Steve finds himself pushing ahead
"Why doesn't Sabella say anything?" He asks suddenly. Marcas gives him a solemn look (which is really a dirty look, but Steve ignores it)
Loki's eyes, which were closed, the dark dusting of his eyelashes against his pale skin, open, half-lidded. The green is so striking. Steve has never felt as if he's lost Loki's attention, though sometimes he wonders if he can ever bear the full scrutiny of Loki's gaze. It could swallow up the world.
( sometimes, he wished it would )
"She can't," Loki replies when Steve had almost given up. He starts, automatically laying a hand on Marcus.
"Why not?"
Sabella does not move. She can still shift shapes (unnatural, someone had whispered. Steve whipped his head, almost wanting to lash out, but Loki merely raised his head and walked on) but the form of a grey fox was one she preferred to be in. If there was a reason for it, neither Loki or Sabella had the words to explain it. No one could adequately explain the nature of daemons, not even Gods.
Loki hums to chase away the coat of silence that slips and slides over the room, overcast, "When we fell, she screamed for me. Until she could scream no more. So I speak for both of us."
Oh.
Marcas growled softly as Steve rubbed behind his ears. Loki's lips twitch as he reaches out for Steve's hand. Without thinking, he reaches out, curling his fingers on Loki's. His hands seem so much larger.
"Steve," Loki says gently, the corner of his eyes crinkling, "I'm not screaming right now."
It's not enough, he finds, the restlessness building in his chest. It's not enough and it's not right. Marcus rests his head on Steve's knee as they sit there.
I'm not screaming right now.