Her pale skin, oddly akin to Loki's own, glowed in the moonlight pouring through the balcony archway, and her grey eyes glittered beneath the attention of the elaborate chandeliers hanging overhead, her dark hair held up by golden pins, with small, curling rivulets of ebony falling upon her bared shoulders, her crimson dress as dark as blood and flowing hypnotically from her hips with even the slightest movement. The golden earrings that Thor had given her as a birthday gift were bright and easily noticed, swaying when she threw her head back to laugh at one of Fandral's jests, the corners of her small mouth turned up with amusement.

He could tell that she wasn't wearing any makeup, and he smirked when the reason finally surfaced in his thoughts. Thor had, around a week ago, made a casual comment about how he favored women with clean, bare faces more than he favored the ones with powdered cheeks and stained lips, and Sif had been walking with the two of them on their way to the library to research new fighting strategies, aware of every word he said. He shook his head; she was always so eager to please him, to be noticed, that it was almost pathetic. He wondered what she would do next-looked forward to it, in fact.

It would give him something to throw back at her later when she felt the need to insult him.

Her eyes shifted from Fandral to where Thor was slowly twirling one of the main visitors, a young and widowed Duchess who had traveled all the way from Vanaheim to see the festivities in Asgard. She had pale silver hair, and her eyes were a very bright blue, her smile more intoxicated than genuine, feet stumbling over each other as she was lazily pulled back into Thor's arms. He was having fun, it seemed, if the glassy shine of his eyes was any indication.

Sif watched them and her jaw muscle tensed, almost imperceptibly, but Loki had excellent vision, and so he saw her shoulders stiffen, too. Politely excusing herself, she walked away from the crowd and Fandral was left alone in the midst of his joke, mouth opened in preparation for the pun, and he frowned, looking around him for another person to entertain. Her slender form disappeared through the archway leading to the balcony, and Loki pushed himself off of the wall he was leaning against, far too curious for his own good.

Sif rarely ever let her emotions get to her, and he desperately wanted to see her vulnerable, if it meant that he could remind her of the moment when she thought to criticize his magic or give him dirty looks for being near Thor. When he thought about it, she really was too jealous, and he could only hope that it would someday come back to haunt her. Blinking, he laughed at himself, silently amused, because the same could be said of him.

Shaking his head, he wormed his way through the milling and drunk crowd, shoving past commoners and royals alike, nose turned up, to climb up the golden staircase and pass beneath the arch. It wasn't hard to find her, hunched over the railing like she had a bad stomach ache, her arms around her middle and her head hanging low, chin resting against her collarbone.

Against the backdrop of the shadowed, glowing city, she seemed almost surreal, almost foreign. How could anything be so sad in a place like that? But he knew all too well just how such sorrow overcame a person in the glorious halls of Asgard, and he carefully stepped forward, wary of alerting her to his presence.

Sif couldn't bare it, the vision of Thor, wonderful, kind, thoughtful Thor, twirling that whore in his arms like she was his sun and moon and stars. She should be there, basking in his attention and cradling his heart in her palms. She should be the one in his bed tonight, his arms wrapped around her as they slept, the comforting warmth of his body keeping the cold away from her own. She should be any and all of the women he so often entertained, the ones he took to his chambers when the night was almost over, the ones he claimed to love for just a few hours.

Taking a deep, cleansing breath of the still night air, she let it all out with a heavy, burdened sigh, tears stinging her eyes. She would never be in his favor, no matter what she did. She'd always be the friend, the fighting partner, the maiden at his side for purely platonic reasons.

Even that position was taken, though- occupied by Loki.

The trickster was always around the blonde god, always somewhere in the near vicinity, always a lingering and irritating shadow. She'd never even have the time to win Thor over, for Loki was always in the way. The damned boy, constantly being a complete and utter nuisance. Hopeless, she glanced up to gaze longingly at the moon, its bright glow washing over her and coating the balcony in a milky white hue. Maybe if she was more beautiful, like that Duchess, then Thor would take notice of her. Maybe if she was more attractive, like the moon, then he would stare at her for hours. Maybe if she was simply more, then Thor would love her as she loved him, with every last piece of her shattering heart. She closed her eyes to the burn in them and a tear slipped out, sliding down her cheek and leaving a cold trail upon her skin, and she sniffled quietly, shaking her head.

Maybe and someday and hopefully and never.

Looking down at the palace gardens right below her, the thought of jumping to those colorful flowers came over her, and she couldn't find a reason to deny it further entrance into her mind. The fall would kill her. Thor wouldn't notice her absence; he didn't even notice her when she was alive and breathing and yearning for him right in front of his face. No one would miss her; the warriors could always find another companion, and their older age would certainly have earned them more friends by now to choose from. Stories would be told of the journeys they made in their young years; she would remain immortal in the text.
Her eyes widened, and she sighed shakily, her feet acting of their own accord as they climbed up the railing. She swung her bare legs over it, the action made difficult by her constrictive dress, and was chilled by the cold metal against her thighs, blinking away the tears that blurred her vision as the wind swept up around her and dried her face.

At the edge, her back against the railing, she felt almost afloat, as if she was watching herself from somewhere far away, as if she could sit and see her death play out from a different perspective than her own. Distantly, she thought she heard a sound, but she was past the point of caring. She stood on the tips of her toes, widening her arms out at her side, imagining that she could fly like the ravens always alert and watchful at Odin's bedside. Closing her eyes, she leaned away from the railing, letting her feet drop away from the concrete they were perched on, and plummeted to the intricate, maze-like gardens below, the pins blown loose from her hair as her locks tumbled past her, the air fresh and comforting on her skin as it flew against her, the silken fabric of her dress kissing her skin and flowing behind her legs while the wind whistled in her ears. She felt like it was the end, felt like it was her release, and she smiled-

-and landed directly onto the unforgiving concrete of the balcony, her hands planted out in front of her and thankfully able to spare her face from the impact, which knocked the breath out of her lungs as she remained upon the ground, gasping for air.

He'd thought it was quite enjoyable, quite entertaining, to see her so down in the dumps, so melancholy and depressed, all until she'd hopped over the railing and jumped off the edge. Stupid, stupid girl, for wanting to kill herself like that. Stupid, stupid girl, for wanting Thor so much that the idea of not getting him could turn her suicidal. Stupid, stupid girl. Leaning against the wall, he stared at her as she struggled for breath, shakily gaining her footing with a bewildered look in her eyes, her hair falling all around her shoulders and framing her marble skin in shadows. She stood on unsteady legs and looked up at him, eyes round and terrified, and stumbled away, confused. With one eyebrow raised, he looked her over, eyes roaming up her body and across the broad expanse of skin that was revealed to him. Her dress was tugged down a bit lower than it had been before, thanks to the wind that had assaulted her during her fall to certain death, and he let himself admire the view. For an annoying, self-centered, and spoiled brat of a girl, she certainly had the looks to make up for her inner flaws-there was no denying that. He found himself entertained by that thought, as well, until Sif rushed over to him, drew back her hand, and slapped him hard across the face, smacking the grin that was forming right off of his mouth.

"How dare you," Sif hissed, turning to stalk back over to the railing, tears burning her eyes. Loki blinked in shock, feeling the pain in his face just before his rage burned it all away, and his hands curled into fists. He had the sudden urge to punch her in the face, but he hesitated, if only because Frigga would be disappointed with him for striking a woman. For the first and last time in his life, Loki wished that Sif was a man for only a moment, just long enough for him to beat the tears out of her eyes, and he stepped forwardly stiffly, his heart pounding with anger.

"You're welcome, Sif, for saving your life!" Loki shouted, and she swiveled back around to slap a hand over his mouth roughly, fingernails digging into his skin, and he swatted it away, beyond irritated with the woman.

"Keep quiet," she whispered, aggravated, and he smirked, crossing his arms against his chest. He almost wanted to push her off that balcony and give her the death she'd wanted moments ago- so much for saving her.

"Thor should not have so much power over you, Lady," he murmured lowly, and her eyes widened as she realized that he'd been watching her.

"Devil," she all but growled, walking away to lean against the railing, to get away from him, "how do you know my thoughts?" Her hair flowed past her in the wind's embrace, dark strands tickling her back as they flowed in waves, and he sidled forward, casually curling his fingers around the railing, preparing to catch her if she managed to jump again. She refused to meet his eyes, but he could see the hatred lying in her gaze.

"I know most everything." He shrugged and sent her a sideways glance. "But perhaps I do not know your motives as well as I previously presumed." She turned to him, surprised, and her lips parted. It was the first time she'd ever heard him admit even the possibility that he could be wrong, and her brow drew together.

"Has Thor ever said anything about me to you?" Loki blinked at her and leaned more heavily against the railing, turning to face her with his elbow propped on its aged metal, snickering.

"Let me tell you something about Thor; he's an oaf. Don't waste your time wondering on him," he said seriously, and she stared at him, a sudden and completely unwelcome idea coming to her mind. She tried to rid herself of the thought, but it circled in a permanent motion within her mind, haunting her, and she finally sighed in defeat. He gave her a curious look, and she rolled her eyes with contempt.

"Perhaps…" He was looking at her like she'd grown a third head, and she shrugged beneath his attentive gaze.

"Perhaps you can put me in Thor's favor, mention me to him in a different light to make him see."

He leaned away from her, both assessing and calculating. She'd expected it.

"And what is there for me?" Loki asked slowly, just a bit interested in what she had to say.

"I'm on friendly terms with most of the women at these feasts; I could convince a few of your..."

She looked him up and down, frowning.

"Charm."

He had to admit, the prospect of having even one night of entertainment thrilled him; it was an unknown thing, an elusive thing, that had for so long and so often peaked his curiosity. He stared at her, unrelenting in his gaze, and she blinked with discomfort. Smiling, and apparently satisfied with her reaction, Loki offered his hand. Though seemingly disgusted, she grabbed his palm and shook it.

And so the deal was made, and the fact that Loki was always close to Thor could finally be advantageous.

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