It was a stormy day when the kingdom took notice of Loki and Sif's friendship. The two had been inseparable for some time before, sometimes running behind Thor as younger children were prone to do and sometimes being so wild that Thor had to run after them. The two were rarely separated, only parting on the condition that Loki was left with his other favored companion, Thor.
It was a matter of timing that lead to the commotion. Usually, when the two princes were carried off to their lessons, Loki didn't complain due to his brother's presence and Thor's many loud complaints were typically ignored. What Sif did during this time or where she went never entered entered into the princes' mind. It was, therefore, with some surprise and the despair only the very young can manage, that the one day Sif was to be taken to her lessons before the princes, neither reacted well.
Thor's immense and disproportionate sadness was felt by the entire kingdom. Storm clouds gathered and heavy rains began his sulk in earnest, though it was some time before anyone would realize the first prince to be the catalyst.
Loki's feelings were shown in stages. First came complete and utter shock that they were to be separated, followed by devastating sadness, only to later be amended with desperate determination. Both boys tried to talk their way into their companion's company or bargain her back to theirs. When that continued to fall on deaf ears, Loki took a stand before the tutor that meant to lead their friend away.
"I am a prince!" Loki pronounced with all the authority he had seen his father use. He puffed out his cheeks and chest in an adorable imitation of his father, refusing to let the issue go with the tenacity possessed by the very young. Thor could be bribed and bargained with, but Loki had never been one to relent and it was simply easier to allow the young prince what he wanted.
The Queen thought it cute and saw no issue with encouraging the behavior. The All Father thought it the product of a young infatuation, fated to fade, and ultimately harmless. The people brushed it off as youthful indiscretion. Nonetheless, the palace, at least, had a much harder time ignoring the friendship after that.
It was much more frowned upon when, in the interest of refusing separation as long as possible, Loki tried to bring Sif to his own lessons.
"These are just for royalty, my prince," the tutor tried to explain carefully.
Loki took only moments to come up his response. "It's okay. She's a princess."
The tutor gave him a long side look. "I don't recall the queen having a daughter," they said temperately.
"She's my bride," Loki said. "That makes her a princess."
It was precocious and sneaky, but youth buys credit in abundance and so they were allowed to stay together.
From that point forward they regularly renewed the lie until it became truth.
The first few times this happened, Loki and Sif were giddy and giggly at their triumph. Neither of their full attentions on the lessons, more interested in play than knowledge, but it soon became apparent that they could not keep that up if they wanted to continue their success.
"History sucks!" Sif yelled out once, tossing all her book onto the ground in her rage at her inability to understand. The tutors were halfway through beginning a lecture when Loki picked up one of the book and held it up to her.
"I can explain it," He told them and then preceded to aid Sif in her understanding of the lesson. Despite her impatience remaining clear, she seemed more reluctant to spend her anger on her friend and within half an hour Loki had regained her calm and her focus. "You go on," He told them. It was decided then that Loki's presence during her lessons were worth the impropriety of it.
The friendship was in no way one sided. Where Loki was clever with words and made companions of literary tales, Sif understood people. It was she that had the job of explaining to the prince why and when he had caused some offense, often while siting beside him at the healer's table or while watching Thor insist on fighting his battle for him.
"I don't understand why he should be so mad," Loki groused, pouting at he poked at purpling bruise.
"Because!" Sif said loudly, grabbing both his cheeks and stretching them as she dragged out the word. "It was mean," She told him when she let go. "People don't like being told they are wrong that way."
"But he was wrong!" Loki replied insistently.
"But he didn't want you to tell him that!"
"That's stupid!"
"People are stupid." Loki's pout lessened with her agreement and he slowly smiled at her. She smiled back before she poked him in his sore cheek. "Don't do it again."
"Magic is dumb," Sif grumbled during lessons one day. She was old enough to no longer consider herself a child, but not so old that anyone else saw it that way. She was trying, and failing, to ignite a fire between her palms. Most of her magic lessons up to this point had been instruction and theory and meditation. This was the first practical application she'd had to do and she was quickly learning that she had no talent for it.
"No, it's not." Loki said from where he was sitting on the ground behind her. He'd long ago made a habit of being near her during lessons and not missing a single one, not wanting to take the chance that they would finally succeed in separating them. "You're just doing it wrong."
"Then you do it!" Sif yelled.
Sif always got temperamental when she couldn't do something. Loki was used to it by now. Having to deal with Thor all the time, no girl's anger could phase him. Girls, at least, couldn't hit as hard if he pushed them too far.
Smirking, Loki held up his hands and easily ignited a flame between them. Sif gasped and a fair amount of students near them did, too.
"How did you do that?" She asked.
Loki rolled his eyes. "I've been paying attention."
"But... boys can't do magic!" One of the others yelled out.
"Yes they can," Loki replied, giving the girl a look that insulted her intelligence far more harshly than was warranted. Usually that was when Sif would step in, but she was still staring in amazment at the blaze held in her friend's palm. "The All-father does magic."
"That's different."
"Why would it be different?" Loki argued. "I'm his son! If he can do it, why wouldn't I be able to do it?"
"Thor can't do magic," The girl pressed.
"Maybe I'm better than Thor!"
"No one is better than Thor," The girl said firmly.
Fire leapt out of Loki's palm and landed next to the girl, causing her to scream and jump away from the unruly element. "Oops," Loki said remorselessly.
"You must be careful, prince!" The tutor scolded. "It is clear that you have a talent for the arts, but we must keep control of it."
"Yes, of course," Loki replied contritely. "I'll practice more."
Sif was still staring at the fire in Loki's hands with wide, eyes. "Loki," She said softly. "Teach me?"
That was all it took to lift Loki's mood and make him forget all about the girl.
"Sure!"
Magic made Sif miserable. She had no patience for it, not enough stamina, and too few successes to inspire her to put more effort into her work. Loki was able to inspire her for brief periods of time, through mischief and tricks and reckless feats that got them both in trouble, but left them laughing endlessly. It was never enough, though.
He could never get her to like magic. Not for more than a moment and not enough for her to want to do it herself. Her eyes would fill with awe at the feats Loki preformed, then darken with disdain at her own attempts.
"I have an idea," Loki told her when they were alone. "I'm better at magic than you are."
Sif frowned, looking slightly hurt. "You don't have to rub it in," She told him.
"No, no!" Loki assured her quickly. "That's not what I mean! I mean, I could take your place during lessons."
Sif's expression morphed into one of confusion. "How?"
"I can use an illusion to make you look like me," Loki explained. "And I can shapeshift to look like you. Then I can do the magic lessons in your place."
"Really?" She asked, excited and cheerful, the hurt from earlier completely gone.
"Yes. We have to practice, though. Pretending to act like each other so that no one suspects."
"I can act like you!" Sif told him. "I'm your best friend."
Loki smiled and shapeshifted into Sif. "Then teach me how to act like you."
Sif grinned widely, already a fan of his idea. "Deal!"
Loki loved magic. He loved being able to able to conjure fire at his fingertips, to shape illusions from light, to mold reality into what he wished it to be. He enjoyed going to lessons, even if he had to do so in disguise. That wasn't the best part. No matter how much he enjoyed learning magic, no matter the kick he got from fooling everyone, his favorite part was that he got to watch to Sif having fun.
She brightened considerably since Loki had to take her place in her magic lessons. No one expected Loki to learn magic, so she wasn't scolded if she slacked off. Rarely, she would make a few attempts to join in, though she never excelled at it. He would worry over the expectation her failures created in his name, but he liked that he could surprise everyone later with his unexpected proficiency. Unlike before, she smiled during lessons. She could laugh and have fun.
Loki loved nothing more than watching Sif have fun.
It wasn't until he had begun his weapon lessons that Loki saw her come to life. As they watched their tutor demonstrate swordplay and stances, a spark came to Sif's eyes that he had not seen before.
"I want to wield a sword!" She whispered excitedly to him.
Loki quickly decided that he was going to do all that he could to help her with that goal.
No matter his desire, he was not able to keep the trick of them switching places up indefinitely. Between practicing during lessons and maintaining the illusion upon her and keeping his own shape shifted, Loki could only switch their places half of the time. He would get better. He would train everyday if he had to. Not just so that he could practice magic, and not just so that Sif would not have to. Loki wanted to help Sif with her own dream. He could teach her what he learned with a sword, but his instruction would never be as good as that of a real tutor. He needed to allow Sif to take his place, to learn first hand, until he could arrange for her to learn on her own.
Loki first fell in love with Sif when she first had a sword in her hand. It was not the first time he had seen her happy. Loki had made her smile a million times before that point, had seen her happy over tiny things like sweets to large things like their first trip outside of Asgard. It was the first time he had seen her truly passionate, though. Magic had been a trial of disdain for her, but place a blade in her hand and she lit up stunningly.
It had been a terrible, terrible tragedy giving her a sword the first time he'd done so. It was much too heavy for her and her play with it had quickly turned bloody, and they'd both panicked over what to do and how to hide his injury.
Eventually, Sif had gone to fetch Frigga to heal him. The queen had thoroughly berated them both, but kept their secret. If there was one person that Loki had learned he could rely on unconditionally, it was his mother.
She was the only one that knew of their lie. They had considered telling Thor, but everyone knew he couldn't keep a secret to save his life.
Loki was just the opposite. He couldn't tell the truth to save his heart.
"This is rather unorthodox, prince," Tyr said as he gave Loki a reluctant stare.
"I am aware," Loki replied. His gaze was unwavering as he locked eyes with the god of war. He wasn't going to let himself be talked down from something so important. Tyr was his senior by a significant amount, but Loki was old enough that his word carried weight and had for some time now.
"There are rules-"
"There's no rule against this," Loki countered immediately.
"And traditions!" Tyr continued. "Even if she were training to become a Valkyrie, she should be a student under Freya, training her magic alongside her swordplay."
"She does not wish to be a Valkyrie," Loki pressed.
"Which is more to the point. I am in royal employ-"
"And she is my betrothed," Loki said with a tone of finality. "That makes her entitled to your services, by your own admission. If you would rather take this up with the queen, you may."
"And if I were to ask the king?" Tyr questioned.
"He would probably wonder why you were bothering to question something the kingdom has known for years." Loki told him.
Tyr's look remained unconvinced for a while longer, trying to sense either a lie to Loki's words or a flaw in his argument, of which their were neither. The only possible flaws would have been Odin, but he had long ago become tired of having to address the issue of Loki and Sif's betrothal and typically dismissed the topics all together.
"If it is your desire, my prince," Tyr agreed with heavy reluctance.
Loki smirked and nodded. He did not thank Tyr. He had learned long ago not to thank anyone he had to force to do their duties. It left a bad taste in Loki's mouth and most often made whoever he thanked feel condescended to. Loki still didn't understand the why of these feelings, but he knew that it was what people felt and that was enough to manipulate and control them when needed.
"He agreed," Loki said as soon as he walked into his room.
"Really?" Sif asked excitedly, jumping off his bed and standing before him, bouncing on her heels.
"He did not relent as easily as I would have liked, but I've no doubt that he will serve you well."
"Loki!" Sif cheered as she launched herself at him, tossing her arms around his neck. Loki responded immediately, smiling widely as he watched her. "You are astounding!"
"I am, aren't I?" Loki mused.
Sif pulled back and slapped his arm playfully. "Don't ruin this for me."
"Never," He answered. His sincerity was at odds with the smirk that stretched across his face."You'll have an advantage against him when you start. You've been training for years now, he doesn't know that. He'll underestimate you and that will give you the opportunity to impress him right off the bat. You're no master, but you've learned well from Thor and I."
Sif's gaze was distant as she replied. "Now that I won't have to hide, Thor will be able to spend more time teaching me."
Loki's smile began to fall, but he locked it in place artificially as he asked, "Do you want him to?"
Sif turned to him with a longing gaze. "Who wouldn't?"
"Indeed," Loki echoed. "Who wouldn't?"
Not for the first time, Loki swallowed back his jealousy for his older brother. It was unbecoming of him to so envy Thor. It was distasteful as his brother and disrespectful to Sif to begrudge her choice.
So Loki locked his smile in place and listened to her excitement until he her good spirits brought him back to good humor.
Sif crashed onto the floor of Thor's room two steps after entering. She was bone tired and sore everywhere. She had not worked as hard as she had today since Loki and Thor had first began teaching her swordplay in earnest.
Thor laughed as he stepped over her to move further into his rooms, returning shortly with a goblet of water and kneeling at her side to present it to her. Sif groaned loudly as she pushed herself up so that she could accept it.
"Still wanting to be a shieldmaden after the beating Tyr gave you?" Thor asked.
She glared at him, resenting his ability to smile when she was in this much pain. "Of course I still want to," She told him. "I'm not going to let a little pain stop me."
Thor laughed mightily. "Good to hear it!" He said. "Do you still want me to train with you tonight?"
"Yes."
"Will you even be able to stand?" He asked.
"I'll manage," She told him. "I don't have any room to slack off. Not if I want to get better than Loki."
"Your swordplay is already better than Loki's." Thor said.
"I may be more skillful, but I still cannot beat him in a fight," Sif said.
Thor laughed again. "You will need more than merely skill to beat Loki!"
Sif may have been used to her friend's good cheer, but it still aggravated her when Thor laughed in her face. She knew that he didn't mean anything by it, had consoled Loki with the same sentiment on numerous occasions, but it still felt just a bit like a lash against her skin.
"Thor," She said in a sweet voice. "Stop talking."
Sif was well aware that she was nowhere near strong enough, fast enough, or skilled enough to defeat Loki in battle. He'd had much more formal training than she had. Recieving Loki's and Thor's second hand instruction had been nice, it had certainly helped her catch up and keep up with other warriors, but it was nowhere near perfect. Trying to master a weapon while juggling instructions from two very different novices was no easy task. It probably set her back a great deal more than it helped her, at first.
She had stood in on a fair amount of Loki's lessons in the beginning, but he could not keep that up. There was an ever widening gape between Loki's prowress and Thor's, and it hurt her to see how much it hurt him. It couldn't be easy to have the expectation that one day he fill the king's shoes. Unlike Thor, Loki held himself to two different standards; being as strong with weapons as Odin and being as clever with magic as Frigga.
It would have been selfish for her to keep taking Loki's place.
Sif found that she was much more selfish than she had ever known herself to be. She never stopped taking lessons in Loki's place, though she did so less often. She never stopped bugging Loki to teach her, though she could tell that he got very little joy in it himself.
In fact, she had watched his excitement dwindle more and more each time he was made to practice. Each time he was berated for his weapon choice, or overshadowed by Thor, some spark of his enthusiasm seemed to die out. It was heartbreaking for Sif to watch. He still smiled at her, though. He still found some happiness in her own joy and enthusiasm for weapons. And, though he would not say as much, she knew that he found his refuge in taking her magic lessons.
By now, people had caught on that he was much better than he ought to be with the craft, though not how. Loki had also spent a long time trying to pave the way for her to do what she always wanted, as well. The whole kingdom had been made to believe that they were betrothed in the name of giving her what she wanted. What they both wanted. Sif refused to let his efforts go to waste.
She owed it to him to get all that she could out of this arrangement. She owed it to him to set him free. Once she could prove that she was stronger than Loki, that his efforts were worth it, that she had cherished all that he had done for her and that she no longer had to rely on him, she could finally set him free.
Or if not that, because Sif had learned that she was selfish, after all, then maybe she could at least prove herself worthy of his lie. Worthy of the truth, maybe, if she could convince him that the lie could become truth.
Only one person ever beat Loki, though, and that was Thor. That meant, for the time being, she needed to learn to fight like Thor.
"Do you plan to lay upon my floor all night?" Thor asked her.
Sif heaved a deep sigh, sent a cross look at Thor, and then proceeded to heave herself up off of the floor.
Loki was bored. It had been years since he had spent so much unwanted time alone. Since he and Sif became friends, seeing one of them without the other was almost unheard of, and Loki couldn't get rid of Thor if he paid him. It stung more than Loki wanted to admit, knowing that the two people most important to him were spending time with each other without Loki.
Perhaps he could have been fine with this, were it not for the gossip that ran through the kingdom like wildfire. Rumors that Thor had stolen Loki's intended, that Sif was trading one prince for another, throwing off her mirror for her ideal. That one hurt the most, since it had the potential to be true. Sif was not his to steal, would not be Thor's simply for choosing him. Thor was her ideal, however.
Sif wanted to be a warrior and Thor was the exact image of one. He was larger than life, powerful, laughed in the face of melee. Loki was the exact opposite to him. He moved around a battle field like shadow, unseen when possible, as evasive as the wind, and small. Loki looked like he could be snapped like a twig, nowhere as weak as a damsel, but close enough that he would understand if Sif desired to distance herself from that image.
Loki and Sif were similar in the way that they were opposite. Loki had no taste for battle. He had learned to weave his magic into his combat because it made sense. It was logical for him. Loki liked magic, he was good at it, so he wanted to use it whenever possible.
"It is not like you to mope, Loki."
Loki sat up quickly from his bed, the image of his mother standing before him. She had a knowing smile on her face, as she so often wore around him and Thor both. He let out a sigh as he turned to faced her properly, sitting cross legged on the bed.
"I was not expecting you, mother."
"But I have been expecting you," She told him. "Over a fortnight it's been, and I have not seen you partake in any meals."
"I had then sent to my room," He said.
"I know."
"I've been busy."
"Busy avoiding Thor?"
Loki looked at her with wide eyes and her projection sat on the bed beside him.
"I have ears, Loki. I am not blind to the rumors anymore than you are."
Loki let out a deep breath and looked away from her. "It's a small matter, truly," Loki said. "Her favor is her own to give or to take."
"The people do not see it that way," Frigga said.
"The people always want to believe the worst," He spat.
"You believe that she has made a choice, too."
"I believe what I see," He said. "That she has chosen to spend time with Thor and is content without me."
"How would you know, when you spend all your time hiding away from her?"
"She knows where I hide!" He yelled. "She has always known where my secrets lie. She has had access to the palace since she was a girl. She could come to my rooms if she wished it, wait me out! She has done it before when she wated me. Why not now?" He turned to face Frigga, but looked away again before he could find an answer. "It must be that she does not want to find me. It can only be that."
"I do not agree, my son." She gave him a gentle look, reaching as if she would touch Loki, but stopping just short. Her illusions were not as strong as Loki's, touch would cause them to dispell. She smiled a him instead and he felt all the warmth that her touch would have given him. "It is not fair to condemn her before you know her feelings on the matter."
"Yes, well, Sif was always better at understanding than I was."
"And I'm hear to tell you that you cannot use Sif as an excuse to hide away here forever. If this goes on much longer they will think her an oath breaker, Loki. You need to decide if that is what you want to do." She reached out to him then, ghosting her hand over his cheek and slowly vanishing shortly there after.
In another world, Loki may have decided to let his hurt get the better of him. He would have continued to avoid his brother and his friend, let the rumors spread, let Sif be known as an oath breaker. In another world, he may have decided that even if he could not have her, she would still bear his mark. He would have dipped her golden hair with coal black so that no one would ever be able to look at her and not think of him.
In another world, maybe she would not have forgiven him for this offense.
Loki considered it, and many other things, late into the night. Ways he could hurt them, ways to scorn them as he felt scorned.
In this world, however, Loki took the spirit of his mother's advice and sought out Sif to speak.
She was at the training grounds when he saw her, polishing her sword with practiced diligence. Even that blade was receiving more of her attention than he was lately and he could admit that it burned.
"Lady Sif."
She jumped at his voice, but smiled at him once she registered who had startled her. "Loki!" She carefully lowered her sword and went to him, surprising him by throwing her arms around him.
"I must admit, I was not expecting such a reception from you."
She pulled back enough to give him a confused look. "What were you expecting?"
Loki avoided her eyes as he answered. "I was not certain what to expect. Rejection, perhaps..."
"What?"
Loki looked at her, taking a few steps back and out of her embrace. "You have spent the better part of your time with Thor, from what I hear. I could not help but wonder if you had chosen to replace me."
"Replace you?" Sif repeated, hurt quickly filling her eyes. She glanced around, taking note of the warriors that stood near. Loki wasn't speaking very loudly, he rarely did, but that did not mean that no one could hear them. She stepped closer to him, lowered her voice as she spoke. "Loki, you are my intended." Her gaze was pleading him to understand what she meant, but Loki was still avoiding his gaze.
"You know the truth of that as well as I," He answered quietly. "What's one prince for another?" He shrugged.
"Don't you dare!" Sif yelled, punching him hard in the shoulder and making him stumble back a step. "You know that I would never-"
"Do I?" Loki asked as he finally met her gaze. His eyes were reflecting the hurt and pain that she felt, but his voice was as steady as ever. "What am I to know when you have not spoken to me in over a month, Sif?"
"You're misunderstanding," She said quietly. Her words would have carried more weight if not for the guilt on her face. Guilt that Loki could have taken as a realization of just how long they had been apart or an admission that his fears were true.
"Well," Loki said, swallowing a lump in his throat. "You are free to do as you wish, of course. It is not as if... as if I have any... any claim to you..."
"Loki, stop!" Sif insisted, moving forward to grab hold of him. "Whatever you're thinking, just stop it." She paused, waiting for his eyes to meet her own. "It's not what you're thinking."
"Then what is it?"
Sif closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I was having Thor teach me how to beat you in combat."
"What?" His hurt turned to confusion, which Sif was counting as a win for the moment.
"I wanted to prove that... that I was worth everything you had given me. I wanted to prove that I didn't need you to keep... doing this for me." Her hands tightened on his arms as he tried to pull away and she continued on. "So that I could ask you to keep doing it anyway!"
Loki paused, assessing her a long moment before saying, "I don't understand."
"Of course you don't," Sif cried. "You don't get people. That's my job." She blinked quickly, trying to dispel her tears without the use of her hands. "I wanted to show you that I wanted to be with you even if I didn't need you for this. I wanted to show you that I wasn't using you. That I want you for you."
"...oh..." Loki whispered.
"Maybe I could have planned this out better," Sif admitted.
Loki was quiet again. "I almost turned your hair black."
"What?"
"I'm glad that I did not."
Sif hauled back and punched him again. Loki smiled as he rubbed his arm. "You would have looked fetching."
Sif laughed, tears in the corners of her eyes. "I'm sorry," She whispered once she had calmed down.
"Do not worry about it," Loki told her, reaching out to catch a strand of her hair. "You do not hit that hard."
She pushed him, but Loki grabbed her arms and pulled her close enough to embrace. "Sif, will you be my betrothed? Truly?"
"Yes, Loki, I will." She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him. It wasn't the first kiss they had shared together. One could not pretend an engagement as long as they had without at least a little public affection, but this kiss was different. It was real, filled with longing and promise and utter joy.