"...My lady?"
The servant's voice brought Sif back to the present.
"I... uh, tell them to go on without me. I'm sure they'll be fine."
The servant looked shocked, and Sif would comment on it, except she was a little shocked herself at her own decision. She had, after all, never backed away from a fight before now. She continued.
"The child... I can't risk it. They will understand, Thor will certainly understand. Now go on, and close your mouth before you start catching flies."
The servant gave a quick bow and hurried off. Once Sif had the privacy of only her own company, she sighed and cradled the small bump that was starting to form. She wasn't showing much, but she knew it wouldn't stay that way for long, after all, only a couple of weeks ago, she wasn't showing at all – the child was growing fast. And now she could feel that and see that, after all, the proof of that child was there beneath her hand, well... there was no way she could risk going into a warzone.
She would never risk any harm coming to her child. She gently rubbed the bump as she let her mind wander. What would the child be like? She knew he or she would be big and strong, that much was evident already. Would they have golden hair? Sif hoped so: She had always valued her golden hair when she had it, although it seemed so much less important now... but if the child did have golden hair, it would look more like Thor: something that is certainly not a bad thing.
Sif suddenly felt a little queasy and went to lie down. She sighed, but in the end she had known that she would be weaker for a time when she and Thor decided to have a child. But, she was lending her strength to the child growing inside her, and in her mind, there was no better or nobler cause, so she could hardly complain about that.
She closed her eyes and allowed herself to drift off.
Knock, knock.
Sif groaned... maybe if she ignored the sound for long enough, it would go away. She tried hard to fall back into her dream again. She and Thor together, her large rounded belly pressed between them when suddenly, she felt a kick! She looked at Thor and knew he had to, for his eyes had light up-
Knock, knock, knock.
This time, Sif huffed out loud. She had really wanted to continue that dream.
Instead, she got up, and wrapped a gown around her. She pulled the door open with what was probably unnecessary force – so much so, that the servant who had been going to knock again stumbled forward.
"What?" She growled, glaring darkly.
"Uh... ma'am, you said to... uh... interrupt whatever you were doing when we... uh..."
"Just spit it out, already."
"News from Vanaheim! Letter from Thor! For you!" The servant thrust it into her hand and scurried off.
Okay, maybe she had been a little harsh on the poor servant.
She went back to sit on the bed, and gently caressed the bump while unfolding the small note.
"Hey, baby, look: we have a letter from your daddy! Shall we read it?" Sif decided to read the letter out loud, after all, if her baby couldn't hear its father's voice then at least it should be able to hear his words.
"My Dearest Lady,
Sorry for this short note, but I know you like to be updated, and I'd rather give you the truth than the official statement. I am fine, and as are Hogun and Fandral, but Volstagg has been severely wounded. As soon as we can find a safe location to open the Bifrost, he will be given over to the healers at the Palace.
The war is not going well: The Vanir's forces are decimated, and Asgard cannot bring more reinforcements without a war council, which could take weeks to set up. Fandral, Hogun and I will be leading the charge tomorrow,"
At that, Sif's voice broke – she should be there, by the Aesir, she should be there, she should have Thor's back... She stopped thinking about that and went on reading.
"...We are vastly outnumbered, but do not worry: We have fought worse odds.
I will return to you, and give my love to our unborn child,
Yours,
Thor."
Do not worry!? How could Sif not worry? The only time she did not worry about a fight was when she was there, and could do something about it! No... she was not sour that she was not there, after all, she was protecting the life of the child in her womb, and she would do so much more than simply sit back from a fight to that end, but why must Thor always go?
She held the parchment so tightly that deep, finger-shaped creases appeared in it.
What if Thor did die out there? What would she do without him? Who would take Asgard's throne? Loki? Her? Perhaps her unborn child would be thrust into kingship straight away, and there would be a regent for the first 16 years of it's life...
Sif shook her head, and looked down at her belly.
"Don't worry sweetheart: Your father will return to us. Do you know why? Because he has more motivation than ever before. He won't be fighting his way like a hurricane through those rebels for Asgard, or for me. No... He'll be fighting so he can come home to you."