His voice sounded as worn thin as the look in his eyes, something Sif had only seen a handful of times in their combined long lives. In his embrace, she framed his face with her hands, her thumb hooked with a bit of his hair, softly tracing the line of his unshaven jaw.
"Fruitless," she confessed, but her attention was in his eyes, searching them for the exact reason for their lack of life. That truly terrified her. "My love... what's happened?"