That Dread Touch
by Alara
Chapter 2
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Following an aggressive practice at sword work, Sif paced herself to coolness in the courtyard, leaning into the blue shadow against the cool stone, grateful for the moment of quiet. Here, she didn't have to be the tough, boyish warrior-girl; she didn't have to be the young lady her mother was always looking for; she could just be herself. Or at least, try to figure out who exactly that was.
As she sat peaceably looking out at the vista of Asgard falling into blue dimness, she heard her name, but not like someone was calling for her—no. They were talking about her again; they must be up over the wall, and not realize she stood on the other side, hearing their vitriol drip from rosy lips:
"Well, at least we don't have to deal with that ungainly Sif…creature. Could you imagine having that ugly, uncouth crow sitting in class with us?"
Unhappily, Sif eyed the ropes of black braids that looped over her shoulders. Crow, indeed; she couldn't argue the point, as her golden locks, formerly the envy of the other girls, were forever gone. Thanks to Loki.
"Yes—it's a blessing that Asgard's he-maiden is content swinging a sword in the warriors' school." Came the contemptuous response, and the speakers sniggered.
"Ugh, it's true. She's such a brute. I can't imagine what Thor sees in her." Came Amora's piercing voice.
Sometimes, I'm not sure either. She admitted to herself, and bit her lip, wondering if her fears were really that easy for all to see.
"Don't worry, he'll outgrow her soon, and be ready for an actual woman."
"Not to mention a woman who knows how to be a woman, instead of trying to be a more manly man than Thor. He's very proud, and can only stand a woman besting him at his own skills for so long before he tires of that."
But that's not true! He beats me often, or we come to a draw, and he never despises me when I best him in our bouts!
"I know," came the reply, "He is a true Asgardian man, with a man's pride; it can't last forever. Thor is as good an Asgardian man as Sif makes a poor Asgardian woman."
"What? Didn' t you know? Sif's a good Asgardian man, too!" This jeer was met with gales of laughter, which thankfully faded as the unseen speakers drifted off to other entertainments.
It was a subdued Sif who made her way home to fall disconsolately on her bed.
She looked around the room: armor, weapons, the things to tend them; some books, the tough cloth she used to bind her hair back in braids, study materials; practice clothes and clothes for doing chores in. They're right, she realized, a bit bleakly. There's nothing here to say this is a woman's room. I'd bet Amora's room has—has— She stopped, at a loss to describe what a 'womanly' girl's room would look like. Well, it probably doesn't have six kinds of bows hung on the walls, that's for sure.
Despite her usually positive outlook, her low spirits lowered even further. What does Thor see in me, anyhow? I'm not pretty; I'm too tall; I'm strong enough to wrestle him and beat him sometimes, and that's got to be humiliating. I'm not really the domestic type, and even though we're supposedly 'together' he's never asked me on a real date. Because I'm not the kind of girl men ask on dates. I'm the kind of girl men ask for help catching a gryphon, or mending a wall, or bodyguarding their petite, pretty, hearth-goddess wives.
At this, the tears overflowed despite her attempts to hold them in. I'm all alone in this, and I'll always be alone. Annoyed, she brushed the tears from her eyes, huffing out her breath in disgust at herself. Ugh, I always get like this near my moon-days… I bet Brunnhilda never gets like this…
That reminder, that this time of the month was usually more weepy than usual, shook her somewhat out of her mood, and the reminder that she was not the only girl-warrior, served to bring her back to something approaching her normal spirits, and she laughed a little at her self-pity.
Even if some of those self-pitying thoughts rang awfully true.
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A FEW DAYS LATER
"So," Loki said casually, falling into stride beside the mountainous warrior walking toward the warriors' school, "You must be this Maldunn everyone's talking about." He tossed a polished black disk from hand to hand.
"And if I am?" the man replied, not even glancing at Loki.
"I know the Allfather has requested you stay away from court while you're here, but… Oh, I'm just wondering if anyone gave you warning about what you'll encounter in the enclave here…"
"Warning?" This time the head moved toward him slightly.
"Of the young Lady Sif."
"A lady? What does a lady have to do with my teaching?"
"Why, there are warrior-maidens in the enclave here, didn't you know?"
That brought the man to a warily interested halt as he frowned at Loki. "Warrior-maidens?"
"Yes, the Lady Sif and one Brunnhilda. Brunnhilda was trained by the Valkyries, so it is unsurprising she is in the school. Sif has been here all her life, was raised a typical sheltered maid. But suddenly one day she declared she wished to be a warrior—and even more surprising, was admitted after a—private—interview with the warriors' training master."
"Hmm…" a rumble of interest as the man rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "It is obvious you know something of me... So why are you telling me this, magician? –Yes, I know who you are."
"I do not believe the lady Sif has truly earned the right to be in such exalted company, amongst Asgard's future warleaders and rulers. But if you were to offer her some private tutoring, and offer your estimation of her skills, I might be easier with her presence in the school. And of course if she does not… fulfill your expectations, your word as an independent judge would carry much weight as to whether she ought to continue in the school or not."
"This puts me at some risk; what do I gain from… hmm… assessing this Sif's prowess?"
"You say you know who I am; then you know I have a clever tongue, and a certain influence on Lord Odin. It may be that I can persuade him to remedy your need for companionship while visiting. If spending time with Sif isn't enough."
The stranger audibly sucked in a breath, held it, thought for a moment, glanced around, and muttered, "Is she worth the trouble?"
Loki shrugged, but inwardly cackled. "Some might think so; judge for yourself." He turned the stone toward Maldunn, and muttered a phrase. An image of Sif bathing in a waterfall appeared. But what Maldunn didn't know was that the image—and the spell—were crafted specifically for him. Well, for men like him, who were prey to their own baser instincts. He just was giving Maldunn's baser instincts a little… nudge. And an overwhelming focus. He heard Maldunn swallow as Sif's image flickered tantalizingly in and out of view in the waterfall. Ha. Gotcha.
"She might be worth the trouble," Maldunn allowed, just a shade too casually. "She won't be enough; one is never enough." He said meaningfully. "Very well. I accept your bargain, and expect you to hold up your part of it. My thanks for the… offer."
"It's one you won't regret accepting," Loki returned smoothly. He began to go, then turned back. "Oh, one final thing…"
"Yes?"
"She does have some martial skill, of course, or she'd never have been accepted into the school; this balm, however, will help make Sif more easily handled. Just be sure to get it into direct contact with her skin, as much as possible."
"Why give me this?" Maldunn said suspiciously, taking the small vial, unknowingly holding his own undoing—and Sif's.
"Consider it an act of goodwill to shore up our agreement," Loki said, and slid away, the better to watch his plans in motion, the spider watching the flies in his web die, slowly, all unknowing.
He just hoped the lust aspects Amora had added to his potion of weakness had the desired effect—Or, rather, the effect of desire, he smirked at his own pun. She'd assured him it would work even against Maldunn's own strong will. When she learned the potion was to put Sif in a bad situation, the witch had leapt at the chance, with a viciousness that surprised even him. He would see; if Amora came through on this one, he might have to recruit her on a more regular basis in his schemes…
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The day Maldunn came to take over the tutelage of the school was a thrilling, grueling one. The warrior put them through aggressive drills, and was wont to correct errant students with a tap or jab as well as a word. Nevertheless, the students' energy remained high: they were learning much, and some pain was worth it; anyway it was always thrilling to have new teachers rather than the same old boring ones.
Plus, the day before, the teachers had hinted that Maldunn might take a small group of deserving students on for extra training, if he thought they were worth it; they all wanted to be part of that select group. Their teachers seemed almost as excited at the prospect as the students.
Those selfsame boring teachers had observed intently throughout the first day, but gone ahead to an early dinner at the end of the day when it was apparent Maldunn had things well in hand.
As they all gathered their things to go, Maldunn spoke. "Sif."
All eyes turned curiously to her as she started in surprise, but approached the large man. "Yes, sir?" Everyone else pretended they weren't listening in.
"You show potential with pike-work, but have obviously never seriously studied that weapon. Yes?"
"Yes; my main studies have been of the bow and of the sword," she admitted. His next words took everyone by surprise—Maldunn's chauvinism had been much talked of before his arrival.
"I would like to provide you with additional training outside the time constraints of the main class; I have discussed this with your mentor and he approves… if you feel you're up to it." He paused.
"Oh, yes, sir!"
"Good. Meet me in the sparring room in fifteen minutes. Come alone." With that he abruptly exited, ignoring the buzz his words caused: "Lucky Sif…" "Poor Sif, I'm ready to drop now…" "Why didn't he ask anyone else?"
"Why wouldn't he have asked me?" And that was Thor, quietly, speaking to her, a puzzled look on his face.
"I don't know; you do well enough with the pike already?" She returned lightly.
A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Oh, yes, certainly. Verily, I am master of all these weapons in these rooms. Which is why I'm still in school."
"Well, now. Don't get carried away, friend," Balder interjected, grinning. "There are a few weapons (coughMjölnircough) you haven't bested yet. Anyway, he probably doesn't want it to seem like he's currying favor with Odin's son."
Thor's brow cleared. "That's probably it."
"Nevertheless, would you like some moral support?" Balder offered.
"I'll ask if you can come tomorrow, but Maldunn did say 'come alone,'" Sif replied reluctantly.
"Right, he did. And it wouldn't do to begin by ignoring his instructions. We'll see you at the dining hall later, then," Thor returned, obviously wishing he could go with her, anyway.
It made her smile.
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