A/N: Hellooooo everyone! Here is a short little thing I wrote for Sifki Week Fix It Day! It is meant to explain Sif being off on a mission during the whole of Ragnarok using SIFKI!
Anyway, hope you enjoy it!
This will not last, Sif reminded herself as she waited in Loki's chamber. This, like all things involving Loki, will end quickly, and in disaster.
But no matter how much she reminded herself of this, her mind never seemed to take heed.
No matter how many times she repeated the words, she still found herself waiting in The Allfather's chamber come sundown.
It was a large room, with massive windows that seemed to stretch into the ceiling, and heavy, velvet drapes to cover.
Green drapes.
She wondered if this color was a recent change.
The room had undergone several redos since the night she had ambushed the sleeping young man and announced that she knew who he was; the night he had smiled down the gleaming blade of her sword and whispered words of relief:
"Ah, Sif. I knew you would see through me soon enough. Though you may find it hard to believe, I do not enjoy lying to you."
That night, she had been weak. With each of his melodic words, nostalgia consumed her logic, and she found herself lowering her weapon. And it was only a matter of time before his hand gripped hers, his voice spoke desperately of remorse and loneliness, and his lips found their way to hers.
Since that fateful night, the drapes remained closed, the guards were forbidden to enter, and a second pillow found its way onto the bed.
And Sif's life became unexpectedly routine. Each morning, she would awaken in the arms of the prince, listen to him whisper his regret that the night was over already, before giving her an enchanted cloak to wear out of the room. Then, she would train in the courtyard, duel with her friends, and go about her day ever the same. And finally, after dinner, she would excuse herself to her chamber, slip on the cloak once more, and make her way to Loki's room.
There was no good reason for her to repeat this routine; Loki never asked her to, nor did he expect it. But he had a hold over her, despite herself. He was a magnet, an oasis in a desert, and she surrendered.
It wouldn't last.
But she was determined to enjoy it while it did.
Sighing, she let herself fall backwards into the soft sheets of Loki's bed, her eyes flickering to the clock.
It was later than usual.
She wondered what could have delayed him.
Turning her head, she let her cheek brush against the cool covers and closed her eyes. Despite her happiness that Loki was alive, alive and spending nights at her side, she still could not shake the unease in her chest. It was as though each moment they spent together was made of fragile glass, balancing on the rim of a table. She treaded carefully, trying not to think too deeply about her actions for fear of tipping it over the edge.
Was it wise to engage with Loki in this way once more?
Most certainly not.
But it was an indulgence, one which she would be damned if she denied herself.
And she had missed him.
More than she would care to admit, she had longed for his embrace.
The moment his cool lips had touched her skin, breathing apologies and telling her how pleased he was to see her, she had been lost.
At the sound of the chamber door opening, Sif's heart swelled with relief. Sitting up, she watched his shadow in the hall change shape in a flash of green light, before he appeared in the doorway.
As always, his eyes filled with a sort of satisfied disbelief upon seeing her.
"My lord." She nodded, rising from her seat. Seeing the way his gaze took her in, lingering on her lips, sent a shiver through her spine.
A smile turned up the corner of his mouth. "Good evening, Sif."
"I trust your day was productive?"
"Never before has The Allfather made so many logical decisions, nor given so much support to the fine arts. I do wonder what has caused the old fool to change his ways."
Sif pressed her lips together in a thin line, guilt suddenly gripping her stomach. Whenever he mentioned the king, she found herself quite conflicted. Thrice, she had attempted to question Loki about the location of his father, and thrice she had been silenced by his lips on hers.
Seeing her unease, the smile fell from Loki's face. With tender eyes, he took her hand and pressed it to his lips.
"Loki…" She sighed after a moment, lifting her hand to brush his cheek.
"Hm...yes?"
"I believe it would be wise for you to send me on a mission once more." She dropped her hand to her side.
Lifting his eyebrows, he strode across the room to the wardrobe. "Oh?"
"Indeed. It has been some time since I've left this realm. I-I believe people are growing suspicious." She took a step after him, biting her lip. "Fandral expressed some...confusion day before last when he and the others were sent to Niflheim and I was not."
"Hm...perhaps you are right." Thought clouding his gaze, he peeled off the massive robes he wore and let them drop to the floor.
Sif scolded herself for the way her eyes drew instantly to the lean muscles on his back. "And after all, it is my duty as a warrior to go on such missions. It is wrong for me to neglect them."
"Your duty as a warrior is to please the king." Glancing over his shoulder, his vivid green eyes met hers. "I am the king. And I dare say you have been fulfilling that duty marvelously."
"Loki," glared Sif, a faint smile at her lips.
Pulling a thin nightshirt over his head, he turned to face her, his voice dropping to a low murmur. "I simply do not know if I...if I could bare the loss of your company."
"You faired fine before I knew of your being here."
"I would hardly call it fine. Indeed, it was one of the worst tortures I have endured. Day after day, pretending to be indifferent to you. Being so near, yet unable to hold you as I wanted to..."
Sif's gaze fell to the floor, her stomach flipping in the dizzying way it always seemed to when he spoke like this.
After a moment, she felt a hand on her waist, pulling her close. Then, a pair of cool lips grazed her neck.
Her breath caught in her throat. "Loki…"
"Dearest Sif…"
"Loki, please." She sighed, reluctantly stepping out of his embrace. "I am not your queen. My lot in life is not to wait in your chamber come evening. I am a warrior. And I have a job to do."
For a moment, he looked hurt. Then, his gaze grew distant. "Yes...yes, I suppose you are right."
A silent moment passed as Loki fixed his jaw and took it a breath.
Lifting her hand to his chest, Sif's fingertips grazed the bit of skin above his collar. "That is not to say that I...have not enjoyed these past several nights. I only think it is wrong for me to neglect my duties."
Eyes falling to her lips, he breathed. "Why must I be cursed to care for such an honorable woman?"
With a wavering smile, she moved her hand up his chest to cup his face. "I dare say the fact that I am here with you makes me unworthy of that description."
Grinning, a breathy laugh escaped his lips.
"So, you shall find a mission for me?" She asked, her thumb brushing his cheekbone.
"You have my word. I shall speak to my council in the morning, and I will select the most dangerous, bloody exhibition I can find. Will that satisfy you?"
"Hm, I dare say it shall."
"Excellent." Turning his head, he placed a kiss on her palm. "Now, we have only eight hours together, my dearest Sif. I am happy to spend it negotiating your travel plans, but I gather you have other ideas for how to occupy ourselves?"
Grinning, she bridged the gap between them and kissed him soundly.
