I have thought the same.

[ Her hand moves in his hair again, a gentle stroke that pulls a little at the end. ]

It was so, [ she muses softly, ] with him. We were different then; heartless with the fear of having hearts, capable of so much cruelty to get our hands on power that we thought would make us safe from the wounds that pained us even as we would not admit we bled.

[ A smile, as soft as her voice. ]

Scared, when we loved.

We grew together, in step as the finest set of carriage horses.

[ A long inhale through her nose, the quiet sigh of its release through parted lips. ]

And then he was gone, and I changed alone. A great deal.

And now you are here, and somehow we have found ourselves in step.

[ She looks down at Loki and smiles again, a thing of curious wonder this time. ]

I do not know how or why, but I do not need to any more than I need to know how stars are made to think them beautiful.