Disclaimer: These characters are not my own and I do not seek profit from their use.
Notes: I am always looking for constructive criticism, please review.
Loki strode down the wide marble hallway, crossing through the undulating shadows cast by the regularly spaced sconces without a thought. His boots rang discordant notes against the marble floors in regular, quick rhythm until he reached the door he had been looking for and the palace fell silent as he paused there. Moments stretched into minutes as he debated the consequences of actually announcing his presence. He licked his lips nervously and closed one elegant hand into a fist to rap upon the heavy wooden door.
It seemed an eternity, though it was likely only moments, before the door opened, and he was face-to-face with the woman who had nearly sacrificed herself to save him; the woman he had betrayed. Dark hair as black as his own – a matter of his own devising – was loose, falling around her shoulders, and hazel eyes that did not hold the scorn he had expected, but, rather, looked tired and sad.
"Loki." She said simply. "What do you want?"
In his usual, indifferent way, he raised an eyebrow, and with a flash of teeth, replied. "What makes you believe that I want something?"
"You could be here for no other reason." She told him, but, against her better judgment, she stepped out of the way to grant him entrance to her quarters.
Loki took a moment to look around, he had not been in her rooms for many centuries, and he was surprised to see that it had remained largely unchanged. The one thing that was noticeably different was a wall across from her sitting area; riddled with neat, slashed, holes, it also featured a dagger, buried to the hilt in the heavy wooden paneling. Only Sif. He thought to himself.
"Make yourself comfortable." She told him with no little irony lacing her voice. Though she seemed to be moving with her normal warrior's grace, Sif sat carefully, sinking into the cushions of her armchair slowly. "If you do not want anything, why are you here?"
Running his fingers along the damaged wall, Loki circled back and stopped in front of her, noting that he was within kicking range. The only indication of his nervousness was the soft buzzing in his head, indicative of heightened adrenaline. "I came to pay my regrets." He told her smoothly.
Sif scoffed. "Have you any regrets? I did not think you believed in such emotions." She was wary, waiting for the punchline, the trick; wondering why he was really there, afraid that she knew the answer.
"It is possible that I have but one." He replied, words as arrogant as his expression.
"Get on with it then, relieve yourself of this regret so you can vacate my rooms." Sif attempted to sound indifferent, but the steel that laced her words was far too evident.
How did one apologize for leaving another to die? Especially, when that one was Loki; he did not apologize… ever. He cleared his throat softly. "I was not in my right mind Sif, had I not been delusional, I would have never left you like that." He slid his eyes from the peculiar marble pattern on the floor to his right to meet Sif's, and instantly regretted it; the pain he saw there, though fleeting, was deep, and quickly replaced by anger.
"Never have left me like what, Loki? If you are going to do it, I demand a proper apology. How did you leave me? Perhaps your regret is not that you left me, but that I live to remind you of that betrayal." It was amazing that someone could speak with so much venom without raising their voice, and Loki now understood how people felt when he unleashed his rancor on them. Sif's temper usually resulted in swift, brutal retaliation, she was not big on words when upset, and it was out of character.
"I did not truly leave you, I did get he-"
"HA! You did not get help! Thor found you, and you admitted to my state!" Her voice rose with each word and her hands closed into fists. "You left me to die in agony with a gut wound; I killed the rotten Chitari monster when he found that chink in my armor, and still you bolted. That is not running, that is simply leaving!"
"Do not presume to know my mind, Sif!" His own smooth, cultured accent reflecting the same quiet threat hers had earlier. "I feared more Chitari were on the way, but I had every intention of getting you help."
Sif got to her feet, the movement quick enough to pull at the freshly healed scar tissue, and were she less emotional, she would have grimaced. As it was, her face was already twisted in disbelieving anger as she closed the distance between herself and Loki, striking out with a vicious right hook that caught him under the eye. Immediately, she struck again with her left, but this time Loki was faster, and she was weakened from her injury and downtime from healing; he caught her fist, twisting it behind her and using the leverage he had gained, pushed her into the knife-damaged wall.
Growling in anger and pain, Sif tried to push back away from the roughly textured wall, but Loki held her there, forcing her hand higher up her back between her shoulder blades. With few options, she kicked backward, driving her boot heel into his shin and he hissed in pain. Sif smiled darkly against the discomfort, her satisfaction cut short when he spun her around, forcefully knocking her against the wall again. She gasped for breath as the impact knocked the air from her lungs, and looked up into Loki's downturned eyes with a hateful glare.
His shin throbbing from the impact, no doubt already bruising, his annoyance at her refusal to listen to him mixed with his true regret for the situation for which he had come, and he had reached a point where he had become unreasonable. Staring down into her eyes he felt another emotion, one he could not instantly identify, but the result was recognizable enough. He twisted his fingers into her raven locks, and crashing his mouth against hers in a punishing kiss; all teeth and domination, bruising, rough, and arousing.
Sif stilled in surprise at the kiss, her feelings for the dark prince as muddied as a quagmire and just as dangerous, despite herself, she responded, moving her lips against him, tasting blood, but whether it was hers or his, she could not determine, nor did she want to.
Loki's moan came unbidden against Sif's lips as she moved into his kiss, her body melding to his, and he broke away, moving his lips along her jaw, nipping at her ear as lust took over his mind and all he cared about was this, right now, with her. Sif placed her palms against his chest as if she hoped to push him away, but it was a half-hearted attempt at best. Roughly pulling at her tunic, he finally got his hand under the hem, long, elegant fingers against skin.
"Loki?" She breathed against his ear. "I hate y-" The rest drowned in a growl as he palmed her breast, rubbing the pad of his thumb across an erect nipple.
Leaning back away from her to stare into her hazel orbs, half lidded in desire, a sharp contrast to her previous anger. "I know." He told her with a mischievous grin, pulling the tunic over her head. "You will scream my name, regardless, Swordhand." He said, jade eyes flashing, before he bent to capture her mouth again, muffling her response.
Sif fumbled at the numerous buckles and straps that constituted Loki's attire, until he took pity on her and went to work on it himself, his amused smile unseen, but felt, against her lips. Her hands unoccupied, she impatiently removed what was left of her own clothing, stepping out of her boots and trousers and kicking them aside. Her breath caught when he pressed his body against hers once more, skin on skin, his manhood stiff against her abdomen.
Impatiently, Loki wrapped his hands around her bare ass, boosting her up and bracing her harder against the wall. Obediently she hooked her legs around his hips, ignoring the rough scrape of the gouged wall against her back. He bent, catching her left breast in his mouth, sucking hard and teasing her erect nub with his skilled tongue.
She gasped and arched against him, only to groan out loud when Loki moved a hand from her thigh back to her core, teasing against her wet folds, her nerves electrified. Removing his hand, he gripped her harder, shifting his hips to gain entry, he pushed his way inside of her in a single hard thrust.
Sif sank her teeth into his pale shoulder to choke back the cry that threatened to escape her, pain giving way to pleasure and she rocked her hips against him, begging him to move, but Loki held firm, despite the barely perceptible tremble that gave away his wavering control.
"Do you want me, Sif?" He asked her quietly, voice thick with desire. "Tell me you want me." He knew she would do no such think, she was much too stubborn.
She ground her hips against him, deepening their connecting, and weakening his control even farther. "I want you to finish this." she said lustily. "You start-" She was again cut off sharply, this time by Loki's teeth on her neck, simultaneous with his slow withdrawal, pulling out almost entirely, and plunging back into her. Sif's body responded, clamping around him, and his tenuous hold snapped.
Thrusting with abandon, Loki watched her head fall back against the wall, her neck exposed to him. A submissive gesture that did nothing except heighten his need to claim her, mark her as his. Sif met each punishing penetration with a roll of her hips, soft gasps and whining noises escaping her perfect lips, as she approached her release. He knew it was coming, by the urgency in her movements, the trembling of her legs that were wrapped so tightly around him. "Scream for me." He breathed against her ear.
"Gods… Loki…" The words were barely perceptible in the gasp from which they originated, but it was enough to encourage him to take her faster, harder; the coiled tension in his belly was spreading, shivering up his spine, and down his legs, clouding his thoughts.
"I… cannot… please…" Her strangled plea preceded a primal cry as she closed around him. Loki pounded into her, igniting her overstimulated body, and pushing himself over the edge, as the tidal wave of his orgasm crashed over him. With one final push, he released deep inside of her, his head falling forward to rest on her shoulder as they stood, melded together, trembling.
He pulled out of her and set her feet back upon the floor, turning away to snatch his clothes off the floor, suddenly feeling awkward. He heard Sif slide down the wall to settle on the floor, and as he pulled his trousers over his hips, yanking at the laces, he looked back at her. She wasn't even watching him, her head was leaned back against the wall, eyes on the ceiling. Her left knee pulled up to her naked chest, right leg extended, giving him a clear view of the angry, barely healed slash that ran under her ribs and ending barely an inch from her belly button.
To see it was like a physical blow, and he turned away, pulling his tunic over his head. "I really am sorry Sif." He muttered, so quietly he doubted she heard it at all, and he finished dressing. Turning back around he noted that she had not moved, except to level her gaze on him, a peculiar look in her eyes that bespoke sadness, and fear, and something… else.
"I know." She replied just as quietly.