"Loki," her eyes were enormous as she stared up at him, her mouth wide and her expression shocked. Awe-stuck, even, as the jewelry in her hands shifted with the rest of her, catching the last rays of sun, casting rainbows in her hands. "These are lovely. I can't accept them."

He waved a hand at the gesture, as though obtaining them was nothing. Truth be told the jeweler who sold them would probably be missing them soon enough, but he had little care for that. Sif had been distraught when she'd lost her mother's earrings just two days prior, the studs having fallen out when she and Thor were training earlier in the morning. Her brown eyes had flooded with tears and not even Loki's magic had been able to find them, the searching teenagers unsure whether she'd dropped them while training or before. Loki had never seen Sif back down from anything, not since she began her training to be a warrior for Asgard, a path determined to kick her to the ground and force her back to her feet, but as she left the training field that day to face her mother, the earrings lost to goodness knew where, he'd watched her shiver and shake with her fear of what her mother would say.

Now, with the new earrings in hand, she'd be able to repay her mother for the ones lost. She'd sported the look of one who'd gone through Helheim and back the day before, but now? Now she looked unsure, as though expecting the diamonds to fall from her fingertips at any moment, adding further injury to the truth that she'd lost her mother's belongings.

"Of course you can," he said and his lips spread into a wide, toothy grin, his hand moving to close hers around the earrings. She was trembling again. "Give them to your mother. Tell them you're sorry and that you worked to get these back to repay her for the ones that you lost. They're worth far more than the others, she'll accept them."

"Yes but I can't. I didn't do anything for them," she said. "It wouldn't be right."

"Since when has that mattered?" He asked, trying not to snort. That had never stopped him before and he couldn't see why it would stop her now. It got her out of trouble, didn't it? "Take them, Sif. They're yours. I can't give them back."

No sooner had the words left his lips than her own had moved to press to his cheek, Sif having to stand on tip toe in order to make it. "Thank you, Loki," she said after she pulled away, and her eyes sparkled like the dark amber Loki had seen the dwarves peddle in the streets of Asgard, before she turned to run back home.

"You're welcome. Happy birthday," he whispered, the words leaving him after she'd disappeared, his mouth too dry to make them any louder.


It became a sort of unspoken ritual between the pair of them. He never offered them to her directly as he had the first time, and instead the small boxes would show up, wrapped in green bows, in her room for every birthday. He never confronted her about them, and she never thanked him personally. They were far beyond that, adults now, sparring with words and weapons, and each going their own separate ways, Loki as the second son of the king, Sif as a warrior in Odin's guard. There was little frivolity expected of them, and besides as Thor grew with them Loki became increasingly aware of how fond his big brother was of the warrior maiden. Not that Loki could blame him.

But no matter how many chalices or swords or knives that his brother heaped upon Sif every year for her name day, she wore Loki's earrings first, and he would let her catch his eye and share a smile with her, just the two of them. It was enough, he promised himself. It would have to be.


She didn't allow herself to mourn with the others when he fell, choosing to partake in little of the food laid out for his ceremonial mourning feast, her heart too heavy to consider eating. How could food console her when he had gone, had left her in such a way? She'd heard from Thor about how he fell, proclaiming to Odin that all he'd done had been for the good of the family, and she understood his desire, his want to prove himself. Hadn't she always seen the shadow of doubt and of desire flit across his face whenever he stood beside his brother? She'd said it herself, he'd been jealous of Thor and what the man had done, could do, and didn't she feel the same, bitter twinges when she was compared to one of the warriors three, or even her own brother?

Why hadn't she reached out to him when she'd gotten the chance?

The remorse dug deep into her heart, and after she'd stayed as long as was expected of her at the feast, had done what she could to help the grieving queen, she excused herself, returning to her chambers. She needed her space, needed to grieve alone, and though she might've gone to the training grounds to release her emotions as she best knew how it wouldn't serve to remember Loki in that way.

She hadn't even realized it was her birthday yet again until the familiar green hue of Loki's magic danced out of the corner of her eye, the earring box materializing on her bed as though it had been waiting until she arrived to appear.


A/N: Wow, I haven't written for these two in a long, long time. I hope it came off alright! Thanks so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed it!