Loki had a very specific reputation in almost all of the realms, had made a certain name for himself on a great many occasions, so no one was ever surprised when that side of him surfaced.
There was, however, a particular side of him that Sif more often than not despised-his frustratingly innate talent of the tongue. Loki was a highly skilled liar, and could make an argument that could never, in all of the years after it, be refuted, could use words to his liking and manipulate them in the most dangerous of ways.
He was a master, and Sif was a mere apprentice attempting to best him at his own game. The warrior maiden, for all her efforts, simply could not argue against Loki. She could never win, and so she tried harder. Telling the god that he was wrong was one thing, but listing off reasons as to why was a very dangerous and different entity of its own. Loki, to put it simply, had anger issues, and said issues only worsened when someone told him that he was incorrect.
And he always, always had a response at his disposal.
Sif could remember an argument from the year before, a quarrel over something foolishly trivial that had torn a divide open between them for days. Those had been silent days, filled with endless awkward encounters and intentional seclusion. Never had she felt so lost in a place she'd for so long called home, and never with a person she'd for so long loved. He'd ignored her for the better part of two weeks, and she in turn had shut herself away in her chambers, reluctant to leave and run into him by accident.
That would have continued for an unbearably long amount of time if not for Thor. The thunder god had done his best to arrange it so that both Sif and Loki found themselves in the same room together, but they had sat in silence for hours, much to Thor's frustration.
He'd finally left, and the silence had stretched long and far, remaining deep into the man's wake.
The incident reminded Sif of another thing: Loki never apologized. He might hint around for days at how he regretted something, or lead you on a wild hunt to track down the true meaning beneath his words, but he never outright said he was sorry for anything, and she feared he never would.
And so it finally came to pass that Sif longed for an apology, when at last Loki made a mistake he could not at once remedy, when at last he hurt her feelings and was unable to make up for it, when at last Thor could not help the situation-nothing really could.
The weeks came and went and she, now his wife, laid down at night in a bed of pure silence, directly beside him so that she could feel the chill emanating from his still body but could not dare touch it, and they woke with stiff joints to an equally loveless morning.
After a month of the turmoil, Sif almost broke into tears after retiring to their chambers, thinking back on how in all of the realms Loki could have spoken to her so cruelly in his moment of anger, how he could have possibly treated her life goals and ambitions like they were merely a child's fantasy.
Sitting at the writing desk in the corner of their bedroom, face held in her hands, she didn't hear the door open and close softly, or the gentle, quiet footfalls behind her, and she sniffled as familiar arms wrapped around her middle. Her shoulders stiffened with surprise, but she was too afraid to move, wary of making Loki change his mind. If he was willing to breach the silence that had stretched between them, then she was all too unwilling to make him regret his decision.
His chin came to rest on her shoulder, and she looked up from her hands when his lips, cold but comforting, pressed tenderly against her cheek, the back of the chair the only object between them. She felt the tips of his fingers drag against the sensitive skin of her neck when he brushed ebony strands of her hair away, slowly and sensually, and she couldn't help but smirk.
The anger and indignation still lingered, though, and her smirk quickly faltered as his forehead came to rest against her temple, his breath warm against the tender shell of her ear.
"I shouldn't have said it. I do apologize, Lady," he murmured, and her grey eyes widened in shock. The word was a foreign weight on his tongue, and his breath hitched in his throat after it was said.
She swallowed thickly, blinking away the tears in her eyes, and turned her head just enough to see the shine of his eyes in the candlelight. His face was genuine, and she took a moment to savor the sight before letting out a shaky breath.
"Are you trying to seduce me?" Sif asked lowly, brow raised as his palm slid from her waist to press to the small of her back, and she saw the corners of his mouth quirk up.
"You have to admit-it's quite an effective tactic."
Laughter bubbled up in her throat and she grinned, turning away from him to smile at the wall, shaking her head in mock disbelief.
His tone was laced with amusement, and the ominous wave of silence had, spontaneously and miraculously, ended, as he brought his lips down to her neck, smiling against her skin while he kissed her.
Heat washed through her limbs and face, overwhelming her senses, and she sighed, laughing with a smirk as she stood from her chair, taking his hands in her own to lead him to their bed.
"Quite effective, indeed," she murmured huskily as she turned to give him a meaningful look, and his laughter, both excited and relieved, sent her heart racing.
Based on a prompt given by rodlox over on Tumblr.
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