Thor.
The God of Thunder stood before her in the doorway to Loki's chambers. Sif could feel his scrutinous gaze travelling across her body, and her cheeks heated. The haphazardly plaited hair, sunken eyes, silken robe loosely tied around her waist- he was clearly interrupting something.
While his initial expression was one of shock, his handsome features were now somber and unreadable. "I'm sorry, I will- I'll come back later," Thor muttered, his wavering voice giving way to the embarrassment he clearly felt. Giving a quick nod to a very smug Loki still in bed, the god quickly turned and headed down the corridor.
Sif stared wordlessly, a hand on the door frame and a thousand confessions on her lips. Squeezing her eyes shut, she choked down a sob. What had she done? Sif wanted to scream back at him, tell him everything-
Please help me, I've messed up. Messed up everything-
"I usually like a strong black tea in the mornings."
At the interruption, the goddess stilled, narrowing her eyes and turning towards the figure lazily stretched out on the bed.
"What did you say?" Sif asked, tilting her head.
Loki sighed, and motioned towards the tea set displayed next to the bed. Giving a disbelieving scoff at the gall her betrothed possessed, Sif shook her head. He expected her to serve him? She, the Goddess of War, serving him? It was laughable.
But she didn't laugh.
"I'm waiting." Loki's words interrupted her once more. Looking back at him, a plan took form in her mind and she smiled bitterly. Taking deliberate steps, she watched as Loki's expression shifted to one of uncertainty. With raised eyebrows, the god watched as Sif began to actually prepare the tea. Waiting for the water to boil, Sif could feel her blood begin to do the same, though she gave no sign.
Just a smile.
Pouring the water over the tea infuser, the water slowly turned a dark brown color, and she stirring it to help it along. When she was sure it was ready, Sif placed the cup on a saucer and smiled back at Loki. Returning the smile, Loki nodded approvingly and sat up in anticipation.
"Looks like we'll train you yet," Loki purred, and Sif bent down in front of the man, kissing his forehead.
"Well, anything my beloved wants," a wicked smile spread across her face, "He gets!" With that, Sif flung the scalding tea into the God of Mischief's face, ignoring his screams as she ran out the doors.
"Wench!"
Heart pounding, Sif's head was clouded with the adrenalin rushing through her veins. Standing in front of her chamber doors, the realization of what she had done hit her, and she bent at the waist and heaved.
The guard stationed at her door took a cautious step forward. "My lady, a-are you alright?"
"Quite." Wiping her mouth with her forearm, Sif stumbled into her chambers, not bothering to shut the door after her.
What had she done?
Loki would be okay, physically, but she had assaulted him. He could have her beat, or locked up...
...leave her in a damp cell after her son was born and ripped away from her.
Standing in front of the vanity, Sif carefully untied the silk robe she still wore and placed a hand on her womb. She was about ten weeks along, the slight bump probably only noticeable due to her usually extremely flat and toned stomach. This whole experience- her consequences no longer affected just her. This little bump had made her a pawn, and she couldn't do anything about it.
A chill passed through her. Sif was cold. Colder than she had ever been. Wrapping the robe back around her, she searched frantically for something to warm herself.
Crawling onto her bed, she settled for the fur draped across her headboard. Lying there, it wasn't enough.
Her very soul was chilled, her body numbed.
Sif turned to the hearth. Careful to keep herself covered with the fur, she lit the fire and lay in front of it.
Cold. Cold. Cold. Cold. Cold.
Inching closer, it still wasn't enough.
"Sif? Sif, what did you do, O Valhalla, please,"
Opening her eyes, Sif found herself staring into the golden face of Thor. His bright blonde hair hung down in his face, concern etched across his features. Taking a moment to find her bearings, she tore herself from the beautiful sight and looked around. Still in her room, she laid on the edge of her bed, where Thor looked on sitting from a chair. Frowning, she started to sit up before wincing in pain, a hot stinging sensation prickling her skin.
"Don't," Thor murmured, "You will recover faster if you lie still."
Cringing, Sif slowly began to remember what had happened. She had behaved so foolishly. Squeezing her eyes shut, she asked quietly, "How long was I in front of the fire?"
"Too long," came the firm reply. Was he angry with her?
"Okay..." Sif turned her head to face him. "Why are you here?"
Two fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, and he sighed. "The guard came for me after you burned my brother to deal with him."
"You're mad at me for Loki?" Narrowing her eyes, she huffed out an annoyed breath. "I won't apologize. At least not to him."
Thor raised blonde eyebrows, the rest of his stony expression unchanging, "I wouldn't expect you to."
"So...that is not the problem?"
"There is no problem."
Stubborn.
"Fine. How did I get here?"
"After the guard fetched, we searched for you- first in the weapons vault and sparring arena, for obvious reasons. If I had just come here first..." Thor's voice trailed off, his clear blue eyes examining her red skin.
Sif simply shook her head and reached her hand out, placing it over his. He did nothing. "So I found you in front of the hearth, right up next to it, and moved you to the bed. Your skin was hot to the touch, I was so worried...The guard went to fetch Eir, and I've been here since." With a sigh, his eyes met Sif's. "She said you'll be fine as long as we keep rubbing this cream in," he motioned to the jar sitting on the nightstand. "She also said that..." Thor cast his eyes down, "your child is still in good health, by some miracle."
Tears immediately poured out of hazel eyes, and she reached out to cup Thor's unshaven face, ignoring the stinging. Gently, Thor took Sif's hand and placed it back down. Still the tears flowed.
Silence.
"Say something," she whispered.
He laughed humorlessly, "About what? You are starting a family with my brother. You have my congratulations."
"I don't want to wed Loki," Sif stated in a monotone voice. Thor scoffed. "Then why did you do it? Why did you bed him?"
"What, was I suppose to wait for you? Save myself for you, on the thin hope that one day you would see me as I see you?" Her voice was rising, and this time it was Thor's turn to tear up. "You know that's not fair," Thor retorted bitterly.
"Not fair? Years I have served you, been loyal to a fault, watched as you pined after every girl except me. "
Shaking his head, blonde locks swishing from side to side, Thor pressed his lips into a hard line. "I have always admired you. Your fierceness, your heart, your loyalty- but I never knew you felt this way." Regret marked his chiseled features.
"Why? Because I did not throw myself at you, like those other...other concubines? Because I did not give you endless praise?" She could tell she was striking a chord now, "Because you are too obtuse to recognize the feelings of oth-"
"-That's enough."
"Because you command it? Because everything else comes and goes as you please?" She took in a hitched breath, realizing she was going too far, "Because now you can't have me as I...belong," she cringed, "to another?"
Sif regretted the words as soon as they passed her lips. Staring straight ahead and willing the tears to not flow, she waited for Thor's response. Instead, all she got was an injured air.
Unable to continue in silence, Sif sighed. "I am having a son."
Turning her head back to face the thunderer, she saw he wore a weathered expression.
"What will you name him?"
"Does it matter? All he will be is another pawn for Loki's never ending quest for the throne."
Suddenly sitting upright, Thor's feature changed to incredulous fury. "You mean to tell me...you and Loki..."
"...Do not love each other," Sif finished. "The child will be part Aesir, suitable to rule. As you have no heirs, this will apparently put Loki and I on the throne. I do not want it, I was such a fool..."
Reaching forward, Thor intertwined his fingers with Sif's, stroking her hand with his thumb in a reassuring manner. Startled at this gesture, Sif raised her eyebrow inquisitively. Thor shrugged, "I would never lay a hand on you if you were truly with another." I am, Thor. I'm betrothed. Not everything is yours for the taking. Squeezing her eyes shut, Sif slowly removed her hand from his grasp. Feeling as though her heart was shattering, Sif struggled to sit up and face Thor. Wincing as she did so, she put on a brave face.
As always.
"I will marry Loki. It is the honorable thing for us both, and if I don't, I will surely be exiled from Asgard as a whore."
Desperation written across his features, Thor leaned forward, "I will marry you." Sif's body went numb at the proposal, knowing she could not accept. Determined, Thor continued, "I will claim the child as mine, it would b-"
"It would be impossible," Sif whispered. "The child is half Jotun, and neither of possess the magic to conceal his heritage. This is my only option."
Thor's jaw hung open, wordlessly saying all he needed to. Sif chewed the inside of her cheek before taking a deep breath, "I don't think you should be here when my betrothed comes. I do not want to further drive a wedge between you."
Stunned by Sif's sudden coldness, Thor stood up. But before turning away, he gently tucked a wisp of her behind Sif's ear. "He does not love you...I do."
"You are too late."
Remaining still as a statue, Sif wore her cool demeanor until she was sure she was alone.
When she was, she wept.