The greater the distance put between Lady Sif and The Collector's museum, the more she questioned Odin's reasoning for trusting that time-old eccentric with a power so great and valuable. Were the walls of Asgard and its formidable warriors not protection enough for the Aether? Her surroundings were a contrary answer to her question as she navigated around endless debris and ducked under half-toppled columns that littered the corridor to Odin's Hall. She also recalled the condition the Kursed had left the prison cells in. Perhaps Asgard wasn't best suited at the moment to harbor a second cataclysmic power source, but it wouldn't be long before the shining city was restored to its impeccable glory. The ravages of war never hindered it before and she would be damned if she allowed some unsightly rubble to tarnish that reputation on her watch.

Upon returning to Asgard via the Bifrost, Sif had asked Heimdall to send a raven ahead of her informing Odin that she was on her way to see him. She never sought the All-Father's company without a direct summons from him, but too many questions and suspicions were burdening her thoughts. With Thor back on Midgard with his...beloved mortal, Sif felt there was none other fit for this duty than her.

Her footsteps echoed as she entered the royal hall and she felt the twist in her gut tighten. The massive room was so much more daunting when not filled with her brethren warriors and with Thor's booming voice.

"All-Father?" She took a deep breath as she beheld the illustrious throne, but immediately noticed something wasn't right with Odin's posture. He slouched to the side, his face half hidden behind the fist he leaned into. Sif hesitated briefly before she knelt on one knee and placed her arm across her heart. "Thank you for seeing me on such short notice."

The king smiled then shifted to lean in the other direction. "I assure you, the pleasure is all mine." When he spoke, it was in a familiar tone that was not Odin's. It dripped of insincerity, even mocking. "What matter might stir thee to come without the company of your warrior kinsmen?"

"A couple of matters, my Lord. The first being the task which Volstagg and I have just completed."

"How did that go?" Odin asked. "Was The Collector cooperative?"

"Yes," said Sif. "Very cooperative. And suspiciously eager."

"What is suspicious? I would be eager too if presented with a relic of that caliber." Sif made to speak but was cut off as Odin continued. "What other matters vex your thoughts, my dear?"

Sif was still brimming with questions regarding The Collector and found Odin's dismissal of the topic very, un-kingly of him. By right he shouldn't have to explain himself but he rarely had in the past dismissed the concerns of his highest ranking warriors. He usually let Sif or the other warriors speak freely on issues that bothered them. This behavior further convinced her that something wasn't right.

The first sign had been a couple days ago, when Sif had encountered Odin in the stables. She was tending to her Pegasus when he came to retrieve Sleipnir, and she couldn't help notice a difference in how the eight-legged steed responded to its master. Where the beast was normally very rigid in its subordination, this time he was relaxed, almost affectionate.

The second sign had been during the last few feasts when Sif saw Odin eating Idunn's apples. She could have sworn he had vowed to abstain from them during his time of mourning. Not only that, but Odin looked just the same here and now as he did before eating the youth-granting fruit, bearing all the weathered creases in his face that he did at Frigga's funeral. None of it made any sense, and Sif was going to unveil whatever evils may be lurking beneath Asgard's royal surface.

"I haven't got all day, Sif," said the imposter. "Have you other matters to discuss or not?"

"Why aren't Idunn's apples having any affect on you?" Sif blurted.

Odin was aghast. "I beg your pardon?"

"I have watched you on multiple occasions partake in the apples yet your face remains haggard."

Odin narrowed his single eye and studied her. Sif held her ground despite the rush of fear chilling her veins.

"You dare come to me like this in my time of mourning?" Odin was incredulous, his words injured. "To discuss apples? To insult me!"

"I have even watched how you eat them, my liege, and your mannerisms are not of yourself." Her voice was starting to waver, her accusations weakening as she saw the fury blaze in her king's eye.

"And how exactly would you expect me to eat them? How should a king who has just lost his queen, his son, and nearly his entire kingdom, go about his routine? Unchanged, as if nothing has happened? Should I worry myself with something as petty as my appearance? Is that what you are doing to dull the pain of Asgard's loss?"

Sif's logic was just completely upturned. She opened her mouth to speak but could only gape, dumbfounded and speechless. She hadn't even considered how Odin's grief might be playing a role in the changes she had witnessed. Oh, why hadn't she sought the advice from the Warriors Three before barging in here? And why had she been so set on believing evil had compromised him anyway? Was it because she never saw the bodies of either Malekith or Loki? Surely she wasn't the only one who questioned their deaths. Their kind are not easy to kill.

Still that didn't justify her impulsive and disrespectful accusations here and now. "My King, please." She bowed her head low, touching it to the floor. "My intentions were-"

"Hold your tongue!"

Sif shrank as she heard Odin rise from the throne, shuddered as his leathers creaked with each unseen movement. She fought back her tears, assuring herself she had faced more brutal confrontations than this on the battlefield, that she didn't wish for the blow of giant's bludgeon or piercing of an elf's arrow over this. But Odin's silence was excruciating and the longer he waited to deliver a sentence on her, the more painful she knew it would be.

Odin had been nothing but good to her since she was a child. Never deeming her an unworthy companion to Thor, never criticizing her for choosing the life of a soldier over a maiden. She was even hearing rumors that she was his preference for Frigga's successor. But if Thor's Midgardian fancies didn't destroy that fantasy, this encounter was surely destined to.

The coldness of the marble floor spread across her forehead. She felt the chamber grow colder by each stretched second and she tucked further in on herself, her armor gouging her gut in a way that should be painful.

Odin began pacing and she held her breath. He never paced. She had truly upset him. A millennium of loyal service, all for nothing. She breathed again when the pacing continued longer than her lungs could bear, and she awaited her sentence. The pacing stopped. The room went eerily quiet save her breathing, so she held it again. Then out of nowhere came the sound of a crunching apple followed by the unmistakable crackling of a magic spell.

Sif's eyes shot up to see Loki, smirking with a cheek full of fruit, traces of green magic dispelling the noble facade. She was on her feet in an instant, sword drawn.

"I knew it," she cried.

Loki spun the apple atop his fingers as he stepped down from the throne, closing the safe distance between them. "Is this the mannerism in which you speak?" He now made a show of it, spinning the apple in ways only magic could. "How keen your eye is, Sif. Odin would never play with his food."

One slice of her sword sent the apple flying in two pieces. "What have you done with the All-Father?"

"Wow!" Loki laughed, shaking juice from his hand. "Is this anyway to treat a fallen hero?"

"Treacherous devil, you are no martyr. You may have fooled your doting brother but your tricks do not fool me."

"They don't?" Loki cocked his head. "That was you cowering on the floor a moment a go was it not?"

Sif's nostrils flared. "Where is Odin?"

"Asleep. Again."

"Lies. He would not sleep again so soon. What have you done to him?"

Loki casually licked the apple juice from his fingers, taking his time in explaining his case. "You seem to forget our wise All-Father had awoken early from his last Odinsleep in order to rescue Thor from a crumbling Bifrost, and to cast me into a pit of despair. And then I heard he stayed awake to rebuild the Bifrost and sent you lot off to war. And once that was done he then sentenced me, upon my return, into another living hell. Then you factor in the...deaths in the family, and you know what? I'd be rather tuckered out too. All that hypocrisy and guilt."

"You disrespect our King."

Loki's eyes flashed red. "No less than he deserves."

"And what of the Aether? What deception have you forced Volstagg and I to participate in?"

"My intentions..." The change of subject restored Loki's composure. "Are nothing more than what is best for Asgard."

"Do not mock my intelligence. Your actions will only hurt us. They always have."

"It would appear that way to the short-sighted barbarians that populate our warrior class."

"I'm willing to bet your actions played a hand in Frigga's death." Sif didn't entirely believe that but if Loki was going to push buttons, she would push right back.

And pushing was exactly where her words got her, sword to dagger as she parried Loki's sudden attack.

"You will be wise to leave my mother out of this," Loki snarled.

Sif shoved him back and fell easily into a comfortable battle stance, wielding her sword with both hands. She didn't regret leaving her shield behind, not in a duel with Loki. Her sword could deflect anything from that minuscule dagger, and Loki's physical attacks were always predictable. It was the magic she feared most. No shield she ever owned could deflect it and she never knew how it would come at her. The best she could do was keep a sharp focus, and to be prepared when that telling green aura reared its head.

He came at her with multiple jabs of his blade, all futile and only serving to warm her up and sharpen her wits. Her heart was racing, her veins heating with each swing, duck and block. She wasn't aware of the smile stretching her own cheeks until she saw Loki bear his teeth with that grin. She didn't like what that meant. His magic was gearing up for its grand entrance. No more games, she thought. She had to step it up.

Sif barely broke a sweat before she had him in a hold, sword at his throat, ready to slice at the first hint of swirling green dust. Both remained still save their pumping chests, each using the moment to catch their breath.

Loki laughed. "That is the closest your blade will ever come to hurting me."

Sif pulled his arms tighter behind his back and pushed the blade harder on his throat. "You think I won't do it."

"I know you won't do it." Loki's taunting smile flattened into something softer. He relaxed his back and turned his head toward her, getting comfortable in her hold. "You would never take the life of your son's father."

Sif's heart leaped and her gut wrenched as if pierced with Loki's dagger. She released his arms and withdrew her sword, backing off. "How did you..."

"You believed you had hid him from me all this time." Loki righted himself to a satisfied and seemingly towering stance, twisting his bracers back to their proper place on his arms. "But I am no maiden's fool. I smelled your lies before they even escaped your treacherous lips."

Sif was speechless, paralyzed by dread. She no longer heard Loki's words, her thoughts possessed only by what damage he might have already done, and how she wasn't there to stop it.

Loki continued, losing the smile. "You accuse me of treachery and betrayal but fail to see the hypocrisy of your actions. One more Asgardian denying me of what is rightfully mine, keeping me in the dark on matters entwined in my destiny. And why? Shame."

With a burst of magic, Loki knocked the sword from Sif's hand. She saw the green bolt, smelled the scorched skin on her hand but could pay it no mind. Loki's presence in the room was no longer in Sif's scope as she shoved past him and fled, running not for her safety but for her son's.