And there she was again, taking everything entirely too seriously, misreading what he was saying, finding insult when there was fondness. At least that was something familiar in all of this, something that made sense. He smiled, faintly, even apologetically. "You're right. That was not my purpose at all," he said, not bothering to tell her that he had been teasing her. "Your silence has never appealed to me."

He had meant to simply kiss her on the cheek, with that usual shadow of mischief, and then all of this had happened. Perhaps that was just payback for all the trouble he had caused himself, all through simple, delicate actions. But he didn't prefer to think that way. He would just as soon believe that his past had simply gotten the better of him.

He leaned in, but this time instead of a kiss he went further as if to tell her a secret, angling his face so that his lips were almost brushing her ear. "What are you thinking of, Sif?" he asked, softly. He didn't honestly think she would tell him, but there was no harm in asking - and in taking advantage of their closeness, either.