A/N: Because shopping with Thor had to happen again. /fangirl

"What is the story with Fenrir? Sif asked, gazing thoughtfully at the large stock of meat in the butcher's inventory. She and Thor had decided to visit the Medina's open air market, something they always had enjoyed doing together when duty wasn't calling.

"That that came out of nowhere," said Thor, giving Sif an odd look as he ripped a bite from his jerky.

Sif dropped a few coins in the butcher's hand, smiling at the blood-stained man. She then turned to Thor, making only brief eye contact. Fenrir's condition was one of many thoughts weighing heavily on her.

"I've been wondering about this for a while now," she said as they moved on casually to the next vendor.

"Is this the reason your mind has been elsewhere since my return?" Thor strolled alongside of her. His extra-large jerky piece was already half eaten. "The reason I am able to pummel you repeatedly in the training grounds."

Sif's pride prickled at that. She narrowed her eyes at him and tore a vicious bite from her jerky. "The only reason you keep winning is because I have switched out my glaive for a sword." She spoke confidently while chewing the toughened meat. "I have a bet going with Fandral that I can outmatch his rapier with, what he calls, 'a clumsy cutlass,' but I need to practice before I can do that."

"Of course," Thor teased. "The old handicap excuse." Sif sneered at him but decided to let it go. The competition between her and Fandral wasn't news to Thor and he always put money down in Sif's favor. This time around wouldn't be any different. He smiled at her. "Be sure to let me know when you face off. I wouldn't want to miss that." The rest of the jerky disappeared into his mouth, a piece big enough for two or three bites reduced to one. "What was that you were asking about Fenrir?"

Sif understood 'asking' and 'Fenrir' from Thor's meat-muffled question. It was enough though. She swallowed the remainder of her bite before speaking. "I don't understand why he was exiled. What did he do wrong?"

Thor sucked the last flavors of jerky from his fingertips. "Fenrir was exiled for the same reason his siblings were. The prophesies claim they will become our enemies." His voice was lacking its usual conviction.

"You do not sound convinced," Sif pondered, gazing curiously at him. "Do you truly believe the prophecies?" She never put her faith fully in philosophical speculation. There just simply wasn't enough tangibility to it.

"I used to," Thor replied somberly. "Before Father banished me to Midgard."

"Yoohooo, your highness!" a nearby vendor sang out. It was the baker, a round, jolly man. His booth was always filled with bread baked into fancy shapes. "You must try a free sample," he beckoned, bustling out from behind his counter, curvy body gracefully weaving around his artful displays of edible sculptures. He presented Thor with a golden biscuit that resembled a ram. "Please, my King, I insist."

Thor brightened at the gesture. "You are too kind, good baker." He took the offering and immediately bit its head off, smiling stretching his now bulging cheeks. In Thor's mind, there was no gray area between food and art. If there was something edible in his grasp, especially something gifted to him, the obvious way to appreciate it was to stuff it in his mouth.

The baker didn't seem to mind. He was too enamored by Thor's presence to care about formalities. Too transfixed to even notice anything else around him, namely Sif. That was how it was everywhere lately, all eyes glued to their new king. Thor typically captured the bulk of attention from Asgard's population, but now that he was king, Sif may as well been invisible. Her social status had apparently been demoted to just another of Thor's warrior companions, plus it seemed the novelty of being the only woman in her ranking had worn off. It wasn't a lowly status by any means, but it wasn't what she was used to.

She couldn't help but wonder is this was the feeling Loki had been constantly burdened with when growing up.

"Your highness," the baker drawled. "Now that you are king, I expect you'll be throwing a feast or two in the near future? And if so, won't you need to hire a—"

"Thank you for the gift," Sif interrupted, subtly tugging Thor back onto the main thoroughfare. She was not about to let them be snared by the baker's lengthy catering proposals again. Thor gave the man a firm, grateful nod before rejoining Sif on the street.

"You were saying," Sif resumed their prior conversation, "about how you have lost faith in the prophecies."

"Yes," Thor replied through a mouthful of doughy ram body. "While on Midgard, I met many mortals who live without the weight of a prewritten destiny upon them. Most do not bind themselves to the teachings of their ancient prophets, at least not beyond the moral guidelines." He paused, swallowing one cheek full while chewing over a thought. "Steve was the exception there. He did not take kindly to my title of god. But Jane, Dr. Selvig, Tony, Dr. Banner, even Darcy. All of them see the future as a blank slate, something they have the power to influence." He swallowed the rest of the bread, nodding with conviction. "I respect that."

Sif was pleased to hear this confession, relieved to learn she wasn't the only one skeptical of the old beliefs. However, it also meant Thor was becoming more distanced from his father. "This...is not something the All-Father would be pleased to know."

"No, it is not," Thor said, giving her a brief glance of gratitude for her understanding. "He believes a king should base all of his decisions on the prophecies." Thor shook his head. "That is not something I can do. I refuse to believe Ragnarok is our ultimate demise. That is the same as conceding defeat."

Their conversation had made them pause in front of a cart draped in textiles of all colors and sizes, so sure enough, out popped the vendor from behind. She was a sweet, withered up old thing, draped liberally in her own wares.

Sif smiled at her but was not ready for their conversation to be interrupted again. "Then you believe we will survive Ragnarok?" she asked Thor.

"I don't believe Ragnarok has to happen at all," Thor said, smiling at the woman as she tried to tempt him with a regal green and gold cape. "Thank you elder, but green is not my color." She nodded, ordering Thor with a gesture to wait while she disappeared behind her cart again. Thor continued where he left off. "I think if we follow down a path assuming it will destroy us, then we will have crafted our own demise."

Sif absorbed his words with appreciation. It was nice to hear someone finally speak these concerns aloud. She was about to tell him this, but the old woman returned, this time with a bright blue piece of candy. Thor's eyes lit up.

"You always were a smart lad," said the woman, placing the candy in Thor's palm like it were a precious relic. She then pulled a red candy from her pocket and placed it in Sif's hand. When she spoke again, it was directed at Sif. "Ragnarok is just a bunch of superstitious hooey dreamt up by mead-drunken gods." Sif snorted, popping the candy in her mouth. This old commoner had some gall! Sif liked it. The woman turned back to Thor. "No disrespect to your father bless his sleepy little heart."

There was nothing but disrespect to Odin in her previous statement! But Thor was ever kind and gracious "No offense taken, elder," he said sweetly. "Your honesty is always appreciated."

Ouch. That statement caught Sif off guard. She still hadn't revealed any of the truths to Thor that she had been withholding, hoping for just the right moment.

"I'm sorry, Sif," Thor said as they journeyed further into the market. "You had asked about Fenrir and here I am pounding you with my philosophies."

"No, don't apologize," Sif said, meeting his eyes. "This is a side of you I rarely get to see." Her gaze then lowered to his mouth, which the candy had dyed a deep blue. Lips, teeth, tongue, the whole works, all blue. She snickered, knowing that meant her mouth was bright red, and that was the reason Thor was chuckling right back at her.

"Harlot Red lips are a side of you I don't often get to see."

"Shut up!" Sif slugged him in the arm. He shoved her in defense so she punched him again, even harder. They were quite the insufferable pair, forgetting in the moment that it was indeed Asgard's king behaving like a child in a busy public place. No one really seemed to care though. This was the ease of the Medina, Asgard's undercity, where the residents were the most hospitable and least judgmental Sif had ever met.

A comfortable enough environment to finally tell Thor her secrets, away from the eavesdropping gossips in the palace.

"My feelings toward the exiles of Loki's offspring has changed over the years," Thor continued as they approached a hatter's booth. It was filled with all manner of headwear from the silly to the downright ridiculous. "I did not question Father's decisions at the time, trusting he knew what he was doing. But I see now his judgment was poor, compromised by fear." Thor specifically picked out a helmet that sported a large, feather Mohawk, and shamelessly put it on. He then turned to Sif. "A king must not be a chicken."

Sif couldn't help but laugh. There never seemed to be a dull moment with Thor. She sought out a hat for herself, choosing one made of wiry black fur that had a pair of pointed ears on it. She pulled it off the rack but couldn't bring herself to put it on. She just looked at it thoughtfully. "Fenrir is prophesized to be the All-Father's slayer."

"Aye," Thor replied, swapping out his feathered helmet for very wide-brimmed hat. It looked like something Fandral would wear.

"But you don't believe that?" Sif was still clutching wolf hat.

"Not any more." Thor spoke with confidence, striking a pose for Sif. "Am I dashing?"

"Quite." Sif commented halfheartedly.

Thor huffed, disappointed at her divided attention. He disappeared behind another hat rack for moment, then popped out on the other side, plopping an oversized winged helmet upon Sif's head.

Sif drew her gaze up to the gaudy silver brim that was now sliding down over her eyes. She sighed, regretfully not feeling the playfulness. She couldn't keep putting off what needed to be said.

"Sif, you are most certainly vexed by something," Thor complained. "I expected you to be force feeding me that hat by now."

"Thor...," Sif began. Then her words failed her. Her mouth was open but nothing could come out.

Thor tilted her helmet up to fully see her eyes. He was giving her an odd look. Her heart sped up its pace. He was now suspicious, which meant there was no turning back. "Yes...?"

Sif cursed herself internally then turned away from the booth, desperate to collect her thoughts. Thor had to snatch the helmet from her head and toss it back on the rack to keep her from accidentally walking off with it.

"Sif!" Thor caught up to her, blocking her path. "Please tell me what is troubling you."

Just then, a petite old man came shuffling up to Thor, offering him a juicy and succulent sample of goat meat on a stick. It smelled divine. Sif was even tempted to take it.

Thor didn't even glance at it, just made a polite gesture of refusal, keeping his gaze fixed on Sif. The vendor shrugged then shuffled off.

Sif inhaled deeply. There wasn't going to be a more opportune time than this. "I have...something I need to tell you. A few things actually."

"You can tell me anything," Thor assured.

Her body went rigid. "Do you remember, back during the Elven Civil War, when you kept partnering me with Loki, sending us on the same assignments?"

"Of course I remember," Thor spoke with fondness. "I wanted the two of you to keep each other out of trouble."

"Yes, well..." Sif's eyes were everywhere but on Thor. "I think we got more into trouble than out of it." She felt her cheeks heat up.

Thor laughed, much to Sif's surprise. "I figured as much!" He then teasingly shoved her shoulder. "Did you think I was blind to it?"

"No, Thor..." Sif was starting to get exasperated. "I'm not talking about just that, but what happened afterward."

Thor's smile faded but he remained in good spirits. "Sif, please don't burden yourself with this. I know why he cut your hair. I do not begrudge you for breaking his heart. Loki was..." Thor paused, his shoulders dropping. "Not an easy soul to be close to."

"There's more to it than that." Sif was now impatient, desperate to get this truth out. "Loki and I had a ch—"

Sif's voice was overtaken by a sudden cracking of massive thunder. It shook the entire market, rattling dishes and knocking items off their shelves. Everyone was startled and a great wave of reactionary murmurs began filling the market air.

Sif beheld Thor incredulously then shoved him hard in the chest. "That's not funny!" she shouted. "I was trying to tell you something important."

"It wasn't me!" Thor blinked innocently at her. Another crash erupted in the sky, this time with lighting, a strange, alien lighting. Green in color and branching out across the entire sky.

Thor took it all in with awe and wonder, but not a trace of fear. Storm clouds moved in unnaturally fast, consuming the clear winter skies and bringing a torrent of rain with them. The vendors ducked under cover of their booths, some even diving under tables. This storm was not an ordinary occurrence. Sif had only seen clouds form that quickly one other time in her life. And it happened only a week ago, right before Loki's descent into the abyss.

"We need to be at the seashore," Sif ordered with urgency, eyes locked onto Thor. "Now! Get us there." It was a simple deduction. Loki traveled to Helheim via sea serpent, why not travel from Helheim in the same fashion?

Thor didn't stop to question why before he started swinging his hammer, trusting the intensity of Sif's gaze. He pulled her to his body before thrusting Mjolnir into the air and propelling them both upward. Sif held on tightly, her fingers hooking into the gaps in his armor. This wasn't the first time she had traveled this way but it happened so infrequently that she never got comfortable with it. She didn't like her lack of control in the situation.

But that was the least of her worries at the moment.

"Which shore are we going to exactly?" Thor shouted while rain pelted him hard in the face. He took them to the top of tall spire, one with barely enough flat space to stand on. Sif surveyed the expansive view, still holding onto Thor to keep balanced. The city was divided up by several bodies of water. There were a multitude of shores to choose from. Thor could only glance questionably between Sif and the stormy city.

Sif narrowed her focus onto the largest body of water, the shore they had held Frigga's funeral at. That one had the most direct connection to the great waterfall, the one that dropped into lower realms.

"Sif look!" Thor pointed at the same body of water, specifically the arches of a serpentine body poking above the surface. The sight made Sif's heart leap. Sometimes, she hated being right.

"Get us down there!" she hollered.

Thor spun up Mjolnir and they were quickly airborne again, aiming directly for the wide, crescent shaped shore. Sif squinted at the pelting rain, struggling to keep the serpent in her sight. He was moving toward the shore last she saw of him. As they drew closer, she could see the wake where the beast had been, but there was still no sign of him.

Thor began slowing their descent as the shore drew closer and it was then Sif spotted a body. She didn't wait for Thor to land and released her hold on him, dropping twenty feet or so down and tumbling into a controlled roll upon landing. The body was washing onto shore at that point. She recognized it instantly, the long limbs, the pale skin, slightly bluing from the chill of the water. She lunged for him, heart pounding frantically. He looked like a corpse...

"Sif!" Thor called out from a jog down the shore. A wind gust had carried him, putting distance between their landing points.

Sif was upon the body now. Upon Loki's body, on her hands and knees, unfazed by the chill of the wake splashing around them. She beheld the dark prince with horror, seeing all the wounds and scars that hadn't been there before. He was completely nude, seemingly stripped of everything, even life.

"Loki..." She turned his head to face her. Then she saw his chest rise, taking in breath. Her own chest collapsed with relief.

"Sif!" Thor called again, quickly closing the distance between them.

Loki moved his head on his own, coughing. He then slowly opened his eyes and immediately founds Sif's, which were looking upon him with a surge of emotion.

"What have you done to yourself?" she whispered, holding a shaking hand above his severe chest wound. "Your wounds...they're real. You reckless idiot!"

Thor finally caught up to them and approached slowly, becoming more stricken with each step. "It can't be..."

Loki tried to laugh but it degraded to a cough. "It's good to see you too, Sif." He still managed to hold his grin.

That was all the convincing Thor needed, for he dropped to his knees on the opposite side of Loki, his mouth gaping, his face draining of all its color. Sif's heart stung at the sight, at seeing Thor's eyes welling up in tears. She pulled back, sitting upright and allowing Thor access to his brother.

Loki looked up at Thor with an unreadable expression. He had lost his grin, but Sif could swear she saw a glint in his eyes, confessing a hint of joy in this reunion.

"Loki..." Thor grasped Loki's face with a firm yet loving grip, his eyes taking in the whole of the improbable sight. "By the grace of the Eternal, you've come back to us."

"More like..." Loki's eyes fluttered as a grew increasingly uncomfortable. He tried to hide his feelings with a smirk. "...the wrath of family."

Thor knelt over him and pulled him into a strong hug. "It is truly you, Brother."

Sif could see Loki's face wincing over Thor's shoulder, the Thunder God clearly not taking his brother's wounds into account. She caught Loki's gaze and smiled at him, expressing her relief to see him again. He responded to her with a forced expression of suffering.

"You smell as though you've eaten half the market again," Loki complained to Thor with a strained voice.

Thor finally broke the hug but still held Loki up at arm's length. "How is it possible that you are here?"

Sif could see that Loki was struggling to stay conscious at this point. There were also crowds of townspeople starting to gather, all reacting with various levels of shock and disbelief, probably much to Loki's unease given his bared and vulnerable condition. "Thor," Sif intervened, placing her hand on his shoulder. "We should get him to a healer."

"I second that," were the final words Loki forced out before fainting.

"Loki!" Thor eyes widened in worry. He then looked up to finally notice the encroaching crowds. The waves of gossip had already begun:

"Loki's alive!"
"Is it really him?"
"This could be trick of his."
"Could Valhalla have rejected him?"
"He died with honor, you know."
"Look at that scar on his chest!"
"Has he returned to break the Odinsleep?"
"He's so pale."
"Is Frigga coming back too?"

Sif stood up and moved toward the crowds, ordering them to keep their distance and assuring that Thor had everything under control. The people obliged but still strained to gape at every detail. She couldn't blame them, really. It was a miracle after all.

At least to those who didn't know any better...

Sif looked over her shoulder to see Thor detach his royal red cape and wrap it around Loki's battered body. He then gathered the long, limp form in his arms and lifted it out of the water. Sif's heart swelled at the sight. Thor was the absolute picture of protector as he carried his beloved kin up from the shore then into the crowds, parting the onlookers with his commanding presence and expressive, watery eyes.

The people grew quiet as they beheld the scene. No one dared break the impact of the moment with a careless word. Thor carried Loki all the way down the long, spanning bridge that led into the palace. He didn't use Mjolnir to fly, didn't demand a horse be brought to him. He just walked, and Sif could only follow behind, dutifully. She wanted to argue at first for a quicker means of transport, but decided against it, trusting that Thor knew what he was doing. She was painfully moved by his gesture to draw out what could possibly be the greatest and most unexpected joy of his life.

Damn you, Loki, Sif thought. And damn your brilliant performance. How was she supposed to tell Thor the truth now? That his brother's miraculous turn toward redemption...was all based on a lie.