Another Chance

Knives

He didn't hear her enter until he heard her applause. He had just thrown the last three knives, and he was taking a second to catch his breath.

He whirled around to see Sigyn standing in the doorway, surprised, clapping her hands and... smiling. Loki tensed and hid his hands behind his back. They had been stable and steady and sure just a second ago, and now they were trembling. His half healed palm began to itch.

The anger he had felt upon entering the shooting room had long since faded, and only the resentment that always accompanied him remained. That, and a physical and mental exhaustion. Even so, seeing her all vanished, and only the panic of a child who has been caught doing something he should not be doing remained.

"Sigyn. I didn't expect to see you here," he said, managing to keep his voice from trembling.

"Yeah," she smiled. "Me neither, but maybe I should have. You've always liked knives. But I didn't know you could use them... like that."

Loki looked around him. The targets showed the marks of his hits. More, much more, than the knives they had stuck in them at the time. And all so close to the center that he wasn't sure some of the targets would ever be useful again.

In Asgard it hadn't been uncommon to find him in the shooting ranges or the training arenas. Harder than the library or his chambers, but he was a warrior after all. In Midgard... Why would the second son of a millionaire train with knives? There were few reasons, and many included some kind of mental problem.

It was not the kind of image he wanted to give Sigyn.

"I've always wondered if it's hard. You know, throw one and hit."

Loki blinked, not sure if he had heard her correctly.

"Hmm, it's pretty simple. You just need practice."

Sigyn looked at him for a second before looking back at the targets.

"Could you... Could you teach me?"

Loki, who was thinking of excuses for having learned, and reasons why it had been necessary, anything so that Sigyn wouldn't consider him a psychopath or something, froze. Every rational thought disappeared from his mind, and for long seconds he was only able to stare at her in silence.

"Yeah, that's a bad idea, right?" Sigyn laughed a little, blushing. "It will be better that..."

"No," Loki said suddenly, taking a step toward her. "I mean, I'd love to teach you. Let me... Let me pick them up."

Loki, even with his back to her, was fully aware of her gaze on him for the entire time it took for him to pull out the knives. Some were nailed to the hilt, the result of the rage that had brought him here, and it took him a while to get them out. In addition, he had taken off his jacket at some point, and had rolled up his shirt sleeves and undone a couple of buttons at the collar. At least he had left his dagger, the one he carried on his back, wrapped in his jacket, and he didn't look like an armed madman. Just a madman.

He was too self-aware, and for once, that made him feel...strange. He would say nervous, if that were possible. But that was ridiculous. Why would he be nervous? It wasn't the first time someone had watched him too carefully.

But it's the first time she looks at you like this, said an insidious voice in his mind.

He missed putting the knife in its sheath and came within a millimeter of shredding his pants, and maybe his leg. He got it right on the second try and finally moved back to the center.

-Come here, please.

Sigyn hesitated a second before stepping into the target circle. She stopped half a meter from him. Loki swallowed hard and closed the distance between them. He retrieved one of the knives and held it out to her. Sigyn met his eyes for a second before looking down at his hand.