"I would not think myself so clever if I were you."
Pausing his movements, Odin lays his open book upon his desk and looks at the dagger pressed against his neck, smirking.
"Is this the way to treat your King, Lady Sif?"
Looking at him, she glares and removes her dagger, but keeps it ready and at hand.
"You may fool the others, Loki, but I know you and your tricks too well..., Silvertongue."
As his smirk grows, Loki lets his disguise fall and leans towards Sif, grabbing his wrists as he whispers in her ear, bringing about pleasent shivers that runs down her spine.
"You would know, Lady Sif. I expect you know me so well you could single-handedly bring about my downfall." He pauses and looks at her, he is being honest for once and she can tell, "But tell me, how long did it take you to figure it out? Do entertain me, did you ever mourn."
Forcing him off of her, she pushes him and answers in disgust, "I have only ever mourned my parents and my Queen. A Trickster that defies death is not worth my sorrow."
Loki's upper lip curls, "Ah, but Thor is worth it, is he not?"
She has always preffered Golden Boy Thor, always loved him... He knew Thor had been her first and the thought made his blood boil.
"The matters of my heart are mine and mine alone, it matters not to you. Now tell me, what have you done with All-Father?" She grabs his lower arm to keep him from moving.
"Just his due, of course. He is to learn how it is to feel the way I have for so long."
Snarling, Sif answers, her mouth to his ear, "That again. Will you ever move on? You were lied to, yes. You feel betrayed, I comprehend that, but if All-Father is to be held account of his actions, why not you?"
The hurt and jealousy have driven him mad. She thinks they will drive her mad too.
Grabbing her wrist, he turns her, pushing her back against his chest, "Why, Sif, I did not know you cared. After all, you seem to wish justice for me in all respects."
He presses her against him, his arms to his waist as he moves to attack her throat. He begins to ravish her with urgent and passionate kisses. In his arm, Sif squirms until she overpowers him and turns. Her lips smack against him, matching his passion. The embrace is heated and urged, a flame fuelled by centuries of denial, jealousy, and rage.
"Whatever made you think I care," Sif whispers between kisses as they make their way to the bed, clothes and weapons littering the bedchamber's floor.
The passionate embrace continues, feral, instinctive, and animalistic. They make love to each other, they tore each other apart, body, mind, and soul. They beg mercy, forgiveness to the demons that so long haunt them. He apologizes for his tricks, his traitorous behaviour, he was always jealous. She apologizes for ignoring, for following Thor as a lost puppy in hopes of forgetting about the raven-haired prince. They recall their faults, they cry over Frigga's death, still so fresh in their mind, both hurt at the lost of their mother figure, seeking hope and forgiveness, an ease to the numbing pain in each others' arms.
Loki howlers and allows himself to cry for the first time in centuries. Sif lets him. And in the end it's all the same. She is the Goddess of War, he the God of Mischief, they can never be. The night ends all too fast and as they part, they whisper one last goodbye.
"Aren't the matters of your heart now mine as well?"
Sif pauses in her dressing and turns to Loki in shock. Although he hides it well, they had been intimate just moments before and she knows he hopes, hopes once more.
"Maybe."
She then finishes dressing and leaves. Things are back to how they were, and yet they will never be the same, but she got the information sought. She has what they need and know, although she must remain faithful to Asgard in person, she knows that her heart will never be faithful to the land of Gods anymore as another holds its place.
Watching her leave, Loki knows he was right, she will bring about his downfall, but for once, he cannot help but wish to surrender and let her.