The words had slipped from his tongue in an effort to keep her for longer and assure her quick return, and so when Loki had stated he wanted Sif's company every night, she had little perception of how genuine he had been behind the guise of this pseudo-jest. Whether he'd intended on it or not, their new pace had been set by this simple comment, and Sif remained as steadfast as she could in her attempts to keep it.

Weeks went by and she found herself at his window after setting of nearly every sun. She rarely enjoyed an uninterrupted night of sleep in the span of this time, and she was growing tired of the long journey and effort that was required for avoiding the eyes of those watching his door. Still, she found that his following remark had been equally true - he had risen to the challenge of this tempo, and she'd somehow managed to find the energy for him.

Her frequency was less drawn by a feeling of obligation to meet his request and more by her own selfish need for the silent compliments his physical attentions paid her. From her first step within the walls of his chambers, he would hardly allow her to catch her breath in a moment disconnected from his own skin. She'd prided herself in having many suitors in her youth that looked upon her with such thirst. Once they shared her bed, however, the desire in their eyes would gradually fade as they grew use to her and her offerings, but in Loki, it seemed unceasing. Every night he gazed at her as though he was seeing her for the first time and held her in apparent fear that she would suddenly slip through his fingers. This intensity in his desire for her acted as fuel upon her own.

In return for her frequency, he used care in seeking her enjoyment as urgently as he sought his own. He measured her reactions, studying the feedback she offered him as though he were still an inexperienced student. His touch had lost its blind desperation as they became more accustomed to one another, but it developed careful intent instead. The purple marks on her hips and waist faded and disappeared entirely as he remembered and practiced how to hold a woman with gentle security instead of with a selfishly-driven possessiveness. As a result, their time together burned more intensely and sweeter than it had when they were still new to each other.

Though this experience left her with little to regret physically, the threat in her own heart grew ever stronger. She thought less of Thor in private ways and the pain they shared regarding their past didn't burn her heart as the injury first had. Although she was still very aware of the time Jane spent within their realm, the mortal's relationship with their prince was no longer the primary keeper of her attention. Instead, she found herself distracted by the pale, thinner frame of the one who was nearly opposite of the man she had loved her entire life. She began preferring the sight of hair as dark as midnight over that as bright as the sun, and had developed a curiosity about the profound differences he held from everything she had once considered "important" in a man.

In many ways, they had grown to know each other in a far closer capacity than they ever shared before. Despite this new understanding, his thoughts and motivations were still a mystery to her; she guarded herself for the possibility that his sincerity and passion towards her was limited to the flesh and that he could throw her to the wolves in a moment, if he thought it to be to his advantage. His often disparate treatment of her on various nights did nothing to clear her perception or ease her concern. On some nights, he acted relieved when she left, as though he was eager to reclaim his own space. Other times, he acted possessive towards her, and would antagonize her with dry jests if she tried to leave too early for his tastes. Then there were nights when his displeasure at her parting grew beyond passive-aggressive sarcasm; it was on these nights that her confusion worsened and the pleasant illusions created by their fervent coupling grew thin.

She sighed as she watched the sky lighten through his window. She had fallen asleep, something she tried to avoid in his chambers for fear of being caught off guard should someone enter unannounced. He had followed shortly after her. His breath came steadily against the skin of her shoulder; he was pressed against her back, his knee resting between her legs as his arm circled around her waist and went up so his hand rested on her sternum. His entire form molded to hers, but there was no carnal desire in it, only a need for her presence she didn't entirely understand.

Fearing the day would grow older beyond her watch, she shook him lightly. He stirred and woke, but did not move. "Are you leaving?" he asked quietly. She could feel the vibration of his deep voice against the soft flesh of her shoulder.

"Yes," she said simply.

"It is early, still."

Sif smiled at the repetition of this argument and found it oddly charming. "No, it's late," she stated, withholding the humored tone from her voice. "We've slept away our time - and now the morning light threatens my concealment."

He groaned and opened his eyes; the pink sky of sunrise confirmed her words. "Damn the day," he said, his voice cracking as he began to wake. "If it weren't for the rising sun, I would have you again."

She chuckled softly. "And if I had any sense of feeling remaining in my lower body, I would let you."

He smiled in self-satisfaction and kissed her shoulder. His grip on her form did not loosen. Instead, he further wrapped his leg around hers. Normally, she would be intrigued enough by this almost playful mischievousness to stay, but as the shadows in his room faded, panic grew in her mind.

"I need to leave now," she said. "If I were to be seen…"

He seemed to ignore her, moving his hand about her body as though he could entice her to stay despite her protests.

"Loki…" she began again.

He interrupted her with a groan and rolled onto his back, releasing her from his tight grasp. She sat up and began to dress.

"Yes, I know," he started sardonically, "you would be ruined, your life would be forfeit, your very honor would be questioned by even the most decrepit of Yggdrasil's citizens." He sat up and moved behind her. "All of this because you dared to bed me."

His comments were meant to antagonize, perhaps for the purpose of driving her to feel guilt. His hyperbolic words caused the opposite; she laughed quietly as she pulled her shirt over her head.

This perplexed him, but he didn't express it. "Will you be back tonight?" he asked.

She sighed and answered hesitantly. "I am due in Jotunheim again soon and I'd rather not be falling from my post in exhaustion while I'm there."

He could infer her meaning. Though he didn't require as much sleep as she did, he'd found himself napping during the hours of the day, a definite sign that they were both having difficulty keeping up with the physical demands of their activities. "You wish for a night alone?"

"Yes," she answered impatiently. "We will both be better for it, I think."

He smiled wryly. "Fine, take your night - even two," he said. "If I might have you at full strength, it will be worth the trying of my patience - though my bed will lose much of its warmth because of it."

"I thought you liked it cold," she said in jest.

"Hmm…" He lightly traced his finger along her bare arm. "Perhaps I'm finally acclimating to the heat you bring me when you're here."

She smiled at his admiration of her, even though it was concealed in the slippery speech Loki often used to protect himself. In a moment driven by a force she did not know, she leaned towards him hesitantly and kissed him. It was soft and tentative, nearly chaste compared to what they had shared before, for it held no potential or desire to lead anywhere else. She felt only a small amount of tension in return and pulled away. As they parted, he stared at her lips in uncertainty, his pronounced brow furrowed deeply as he tried to ascertain why they had tasted so differently from before.

"We have both surpassed weariness," he said, excusing the odd measure and his subsequent confusion on fatigue.

She inhaled deeply and stood. "I suppose we have," she stated roughly, obviously discomforted by what had passed. The sign of her embarrassment rested on her cheeks and she was thankful it was concealed by twilight. She grabbed her coats and threw them over her arm without taking the time to wear them. Loki didn't respond, nor did she say another word before exiting his window into the morning light.


The sound of metal scraping metal and enthusiastic conversation filled the small hall in one of the palace's lower levels. The untrained, unfamiliar ear might have mistaken it as a friendly spar, if it were not for the sounds of slurping and belching mixed with the smell of freshly-charred meat. Fandral watched his friend with amazement; despite having known him for many years and witnessing his manner of gorging himself many times, it was still a source of continued astonishment for him.

With a crunch, Volstagg bit into an animal's leg the size of his own head. He chewed twice, then swallowed roughly to speak. "I fail to see the logic in it, but I'm not one to easily question the Allfather's wishes."

"I don't intend to question him either," Fandral said quickly. "I simply don't understand it. Why go to so much trouble to save a planet that has caused us such difficulty - one we've nearly destroyed on more than one occasion ourselves? And why risk the life of one our own in the slight hope they may accept a handful of supplies that cannot possibly make a measurable difference in the welfare of their realm?"

"Is your concern founded in the complexities of Asgard's history with Jotunheim, or are you worried more for Sif?" Volstagg asked. "Have you not yet buried your hopeless plan to turn her eyes from Thor?"

Fandral chuckled and leaned back in his chair. "I know not of what dangerous words you speak, Friend. I was only musing to myself before and meant nothing serious by it. But I am concerned for Sif. The wastes of Jotunheim are no place for one as fair as she - and that dying race is not worth her company."

"She is loyal to the Allfather," Volstagg said, remaining silent on his suspicion that Fandral was not speaking the entire truth of it. "She would swim the rivers of fire on Muspelheim if he so willed it. It is pointless to worry on her behalf for orders she would obey without hesitation."

Fandral was about to retort, but the sound of near footsteps stunted his thoughts on his argument. Garik the archer appeared at the door. His eyes were low; he had heard what they said. However, Volstagg's focus was on his food and Fandral was too lost in this dispute to notice how troubled the archer's expression appeared.

"Young Garik!" Volstagg greeted energetically. "Yours is a face I have not seen in awhile. How fares your family?"

"Very well, Sir. Thank you."

"And your wife? Isn't she due with your child soon?"

Garik smiled at his kindness and the memory he had of the important happenings in the life of a subordinate. "She delivered very recently. We have added a girl to the brood."

"Sit," Fandral said, motioning to an empty seat. "That is happy news, but I doubt it's what brought you here."

"I meant no intrusion." He took his chair, his confidence dropping as the subject changed.

"It's of no offense," Fandral assured him. "We weren't discussing anything of which you haven't already been informed."

The lesser warrior set his hands on the table and stared down at them as he considered his words carefully. "I felt as though I had acted irresponsibly towards Asgard and her king when I surrendered my duty as Loki's guard due to his threat on my family," he began.

"It was easily understandable. There were no ill feelings towards your decision," Volstagg spoke.

"I had hoped not. Still, I felt obligated to do my part to ensure Loki's security, as it was entrusted to me by Prince Thor himself. I have - been looking in on him, on occasion, from atop a roof roughly 200 hundred paces from his southern wall. It's unguarded, and though I know of the restraints on his quarters, I thought my eyes would be the most helpful from that point."

Fandral looked oddly at Volstagg. "Your diligence is appreciated, but he has been silenced to the point that we've removed his binding mask and have released his guard to the Einherjar. This may very well be a waste of your time."

Garik's eyes fell to the table. "I've had that thought as well. My vision is exceptional at night, but even I cannot see anything but blackness beyond the threshold of his window," he explained. "In my watch, however, I have witnessed something odd occur in more than one instance. I feel it's worth my report, though I'm not certain if it's my place." He paused for a moment to plan his words. What he was about to speak included a great accusation against one of high office. It didn't bear well with him to recklessly confess it.

Fandral chortled when the other man remained quiet for longer than expected. "Well - what is it that has stirred such great suspicion within you?"

"He has entertained a visitor - one who has purposefully circumvented the guards and under the cover of darkness, always enters through his southern window. She remains there for several hours, and leaves only when the threat of daylight begins its approach."

Fandral laughed suddenly, surprising both Garik and Volstagg with his humored reaction. "Are you certain it's a woman?"

"Quite certain," he said. He sighed deeply. He had not yet gotten to the crux of the issue and the real reason for his decision to report to Fandral and Volstagg specifically instead of going directly to Thor. He'd watched the same faceless shadow arrive and leave Loki's chambers a number of times. Originally, he hadn't cared enough to follow her or make an effort to learn her identity; one woman was less to worry about than ensuring Asgard's enemy was sufficiently caged. Since she brought no apparent threat against him or the guards that watched him, he only made note of it and took no action against her. On her most recent trip, however, she had made an error in judgment and had stayed until the first hints of morning had appeared over the horizon. In the dim light, he could just make out her features - enough to see her face.

"Do you know who she is?" Fandral asked.

Garik took a long breath, heavy-hearted over having to share this information with two of her closest friends. Still, due to her station and her close proximity to the throne, he felt pressed to reveal her. Just as his mouth opened, Volstagg cut him off, granting him a small reprieve. "What does it matter?" he asked. "There is nothing in Thor or Odin's orders that prohibits him from guests or visits of - a personal nature. What business is this of ours?"

"If she's helping him…"

"Fandral, outside of the royal family themselves, no one would have access to any resources that could lend him actual aid. The Allfather has given us his own word on this," Volstagg argued. "She would have to own a greater potential for magic than the palace magicians and Loki himself in order to threaten the barriers that hold him."

Fandral sighed, conceding to his point. "That is true, but I also wish to know what brand of woman would lower herself to him - and how much he must be paying for her," he said. There was a hint of bitterness to his tone, marked by Volstagg, who knew him well enough to tell the difference between this and his normal humor.

"And I simply want to avoid spoiling my appetite," Volstagg added. "I have never had less desire to know the details of someone else's love life."

Hearing these words gave Garik a better mind for what may have resulted from his report. His hesitancy to share this information doubled, and he began to reconsider his choice in this matter.

"The king could hardly be troubled by such trivialities and I doubt Thor would want to know either," Volstagg continued to argue. "Just tell us Garik, is there any chance this guest could be a threat to him or to Asgard?"

He paused before answering. "No," he said in truth, though he contentedly hid the unspoken issue.

Fandral sighed in disappointment, but Volstagg happily replied, "very good. Keep us informed if anything further should develop."

Garik stood and bowed respectfully, keeping Sif's secret in silence for the moment.


Jane's strange dreams continued to plague her while she slept. Images of a forgotten war and a long-dead hero-king filled her slumbering mind. The smell of steel and coppery blood filled the chilled air as his beast-like enemy swarmed him. Although the challenge seemed insurmountable, he vanquished them all in one mighty blow, as he had in her last visions.

Just as before, however, she found herself separated from the king and the relative safety of his strong arms. The beast with an eye for her blood had targeted her from a distance once again. The sharp chill of terror traversed her spine, into her arms and legs, freezing her where she stood. The beast lowered its horrible head and began running toward her, but she remembered the spear within her reach and found it on the same spot on the ground, beneath a fallen enemy. However, unlike her previous experiences, she didn't reach for it; she couldn't. Her body failed her as fear seized her mind and heart. The beast rushed her, but she could only hold her breath and await the blade of his weapon.

She opened her eyes with a start, thankful to find that her central fire, along with the light from the window, illuminated her surroundings enough for her to regain a sense of reality. A large, heavy arm suddenly enveloped her tightly, startling her again. She laughed audibly at her own nerves and turned on her side to meet his sleepy gaze.

"It is late. We should leave soon if you would like to see the sunrise," he said in the midst of a yawn.

She smiled. " I think I'll pass today."

"Is everything alright?" he asked in concern.

A soft smile spread across her lips. Even after these past weeks, he was still very concerned about making Asgard seem faultless to her. "Everything's perfect," she assured him, "but we stayed up late with your friends and I need more sleep. Plus, there are some things I wanted to do while I'm here - if you're okay with that."

He yawned again and turned on his back. "What sort of things?"

She hoped he wouldn't ask for too many details. "I want to get out of the palace. I'd like to see your marketplace again - and maybe buy a souvenir."

"Do you wish me to accompany you?"

She kissed his cheek. "No, I want to go alone. You attracted a lot of attention last time, and I kind of want a quiet afternoon. I don't want to take more of your time away from your duties here either."

He smiled in understanding. "Very well, but use the palace charge if you wish to purchase something. I will give you my seal as proof of my approval."

"Thanks, but that's not necessary," she said, misinterpreting the cause for his offer.

He chortled. "It is if you wish to purchase something - unless you've brought our currency with you. Considering the provisions you've given me, it hardly makes us even," he argued. He rose out of bed and began dressing so he could return to his quarters early and avoid prying eyes.

"Well, thank you," she said. "Is there anything I can get for you?"

"Not unless one of our people has discovered coffee," he joked.

She chuckled. "Asgard's one flaw."

He laughed warmly and leaned down, kissing her softly on the lips. "No one is perfect, Jane Foster," he said. She smiled widely against his mouth. "Take care to remain within the city walls, for Asgard's wildlife may be somewhat overwhelming for you, and call the Einherjar if you encounter any problems on the streets. Odin has worked to fulfill most of his people's needs, but we are imperfect, just as Midgard, and there are still those who wish to steal and cause others harm simply for their own amusement. Also, caution yourself against..."

"I get it," she said in an interruption. "I'll be careful."

He sighed and slipped his shirt over his head. "I know you will."

What Jane had told him was mostly true. She did sleep in a bit that morning and spent most of the day in the city among the realm's people in the marketplace, where she learned even more about this strange society. Their poor were either invisible or non-existent; even the tradesmen who would normally be considered less fortunate in other cultures were well-dressed and regal in their manner. Most seemed to be generally happy, but it struck her that they were a very closed culture. She overheard the same criticism of Odin, Thor, and the council that most Midgardians shared for their governments over trivial matters. It caused her to wonder how many of these people were aware of what threat was currently stealing the sleep of their prince, and the preparation of Asgard against an enemy they had never seen and did not know.

For the most part, her day was pleasant. Most Asgardians failed to notice she was any different than one of their own. The few merchants who saw the seal of Thor realized her identity, but reacted only with mild surprise and regarded her with respect. Once and awhile, her ear would tune in to a whisper or rumor about her presence in Thor's company, but she did her best to ignore it. She expected them to find her strange, and wonder about the reason for her visit to their land.

There was an errand Jane failed to disclose to Thor - one that would not be nearly as pleasant as an afternoon of shopping for trifles and small gifts. It had been weighing on her mind and she felt she couldn't continue to ignore it.


Sif normally would have gone to the palace to share updates with the Three over a drink or afternoon meal, but despite her nostalgia for the halls of the palace, it still denied her its welcome. Even though Thor had given her a warm reception after her return from Jotunheim, she was certain nothing in his mind had changed, as she knew nothing in hers had. Though the golden towers felt more like home than her own chambers, she believed her continued distance would be best. Instead of following the pull to walk upon the marble floors lining the Hall of Odin, she opted to return to her empty apartment.

Part of her was grateful for a quiet, early end to her night. She had already told a cantankerous Loki that he would not have her for company, and she was looking forward to taking a long bath, perhaps reading, and then getting the first full night of sleep she'd had in some time. Rest would serve her well, and it may also have improved her thoughts and mood surrounding the events in her life and the various players within.

As she rode up the pathway and around the curve to her quarters, she saw the Einherjar and his horse at the front of her property. "What's wrong?" she asked in some alarm, closing the distance in a gallop in worry.

"Nothing, My Lady. I'm simply here as transport for your guest," he said, pointing towards her front steps.

"Jane Foster," she said in surprise, jumping from her horse. She found she was actually somewhat disappointed that the Einherjar had not come to summon her to some dire and important matter. "What are you doing here?"

"Do you have a couple of minutes?" she asked uneasily. "I think we should talk."

"I do," Sif said with a nod. "Help yourself inside. Give me a moment to water and stable my horse."

Jane did what she asked and let herself in as Sif began to take the saddle and reins off and put them in her stable. Her horse huffed happily as she gave her food and water, but Sif regretted not being able to give her the full brush-down she was hoping to. Curiosity was burning in her mind, and she wanted desperately to know what it was Jane had to say to her. If it was a rebuke, she was a bit late, though Sif wondered if Midgardian customs were different for these sort of issues. She set out water for the Einherjar's horse as well and did her best to straighten her appearance before entering her house.

"Can I offer you something?" Sif asked courteously.

Jane sat down in her common room and removed her bag from her shoulder. "No - thanks," she said, nervously clearing her throat.

Sif sat across from her, somewhat relieved that the other woman openly showed some trepidation. She could empathize with her discomfort, and felt more at ease about her presence. "What is it you want from me?"

The harsh way in which Sif broke the ice caused Jane to nearly flinch. She sighed and dropped her eyes to the floor. "I - I'm sorry - about what happened with Thor on the day he brought me here." Sif shook her head and was about to say her piece, but Jane continued. "I tried to explain to him - that he overreacted and you were just being protective, but…"

"I appreciate your concern," Sif said firmly, interrupting her, "I mean no offense, but it would be better if you did not interfere. You can't possibly know or understand the context behind what has happened."

"But I do - a little," she argued. She reached into her bag and pulled out the book on Scandinavian mythology she had earlier shown Thor. "Our stories aren't exactly as thorough as yours, but they cover the basics. The myths say you were married to him - and Thor told me this isn't far from the truth."

Sif's face softened. "I was unaware he had revealed anything to you regarding our past. I didn't think he'd want to burden your with the mistakes we both made during that time."

"He didn't have to," she said with another sigh. She opened the book to the marked page and handed it to Sif, who looked down at it with confusion.

Sif's lips curved upward momentarily, but fell again. "But these runes... is that supposed to be me?" she asked, pointing to the image on the page of some frightfully large and unreasonably masculine woman.

"More or less," Jane answered dryly. "My guess is whoever shared your stories with Earth's ancient cultures wasn't aware that you hadn't gone through with it when they were recorded," she explained. "It doesn't really say anything in detail about your relationship - and what's there may not be right. Thor said our mythology is full of inaccuracies and creative liberties."

Sif flipped through some of the pages, vexed by the poorly-drawn, almost childish depictions of the respected people within her realm, but curious about what the humans believed about them. A woman who shared a small segment of a section regarding Loki caught her attention, but she quickly closed the book to avoid lingering too long. "May I borrow this?"

"Sure," Jane answered. "Some of the captions are in your language, but if you want to know what the rest of it says, l can read it for you. Some of the others have seen it too."

"You didn't come here simply to show this to me," she inferred.

Jane lowered her eyes once again. "No - I just wanted you to see where I was getting my information," she said. She crossed her arms and started again. "If this was Earth, I wouldn't even be here - but I've learned a lot about how you value your relationships in Asgard and - how long they last is evidence to that. Thor told me once that you've been friends since you were children. I don't want to be the one responsible for that ending."

"You want me to make amends with Thor," she observed. Jane nodded affirmatively. "Why?"

"Because I care about him," she answered firmly, "and I've seen the look in his eyes when he talks about you. He misses you."

"He told you this?" Sif asked quietly.

"No, but he and I have gotten to know each other since I've been here," she said with a soft smile. Sif's heart sank with these words, as she understood their unmentioned meaning. "I'd like to pretend I'm just good at reading him, but unlike any of the guys I've ever dated, he doesn't try to hide himself from me. He doesn't need to say it; it's written all over his face."

"I see," she said, clearing her throat as she attempted to will away the lump that had formed there. "You must realize this cannot be done by just one of a two-person party…"

"He did try - and you brushed him off. I think he would try again if it weren't for me, but - he must think I'd feel threatened, which I don't, by the way," she added quickly. She looked up and met Sif's eyes. "I care about his happiness - and having you as a friend again would make him very happy. I trust him enough to know that's where it would end."

"Your trust is well-kept," she said lowly.

"I thought so too."

Sif rested her elbow against the arm of her couch and considered Jane's argument. Her heart ached for the friendship she'd lost and the other relationships that had been affected by the drift between her and Thor. She felt almost foolish for allowing it to continue. Equally so, however, she wasn't sure she possessed the strength to idly watch him grow close with another. It was easier said than done to put one's pride away.

One positive Sif could not ignore was that the one who held his attention had proven herself kind-hearted. Thor had made the Midgardians sound rash and often abrasive, but her soft confrontation had required patience with one who had lost hers, consideration for someone other than herself, and thoughtfulness towards her words. More importantly, she had put Thor's needs ahead of her own, a sign that she finally understood the importance of his position, and the profound meaning behind the approval of her admittance to their realm.

"Regardless of my friendship with the prince, Jane Foster, I owe you an apology. That you would go to such lengths to protect his happiness proves your care for him. I should not put myself at odds with one who would treat him so well," she explained. "I sense you love him as I do - and though it may seem odd, I am relieved, for I know his heart will be in good hands." She looked down with these last words and hid the pain she knew was evident in her eyes.

Jane smiled softly, her brow arching in sympathy. She understood how it felt; even with the amicable dissolution of a relationship, it could be very difficult to watch the other move on.

"Thanks Sif," she said. "I know you may not believe it, but your approval means a lot to me."

"I misjudged you. I thought you reckless when you stated your desire to leave after such a short time, but you have stayed much longer - and have garnered the favor and love of my friends. You have paid Asgard respect in that manner; the least I may do is return it."

The warmth that Jane felt for Sif's words died as suddenly as it appeared when her mind was able to process exactly what she'd said beyond her kind intent. "What do you mean 'much longer?'" she asked, almost interrupting her.

"Upon your arrival, you had said a few weeks was all that you could spare for Thor, but that has passed, nearly twice over, and still, you remain."

Jane put her hand to her head in confusion. "I've been here for more than a month?"

"Easily," Sif answered. The trouble on her face was evident. Whatever this had meant to her was obviously profound. Sif wondered if she shouldn't have censored her words, though she still had no idea what had caused such a reaction. "Is there something wrong?"

She stood from her seat suddenly. "No, I just - I should go," she said.

Sif missed the double meaning behind what she'd said, assuming she was referring to the late hour. Before she left, Sif added, "I feel I owe you for this trouble. When you are ready to prepare for the tests, I will do what is in my power to aid you. I give you my word." It had been a difficult offer for her to make. Though she wouldn't have understood this, Jane's reply confused her.

"Tests?" she simply asked.

Sif's confusion doubled. Her expression fell. Had Thor failed to forewarn her of this great challenge that would surely lie ahead? The tests would be a nearly insurmountable trial for anyone, let alone a Midgardian woman. There was little sense in delaying Jane's ability to prepare by withholding this information from her. "Yes," she answered, "the tests to prove your worthiness to the Gift of Idunn - and to the throne."

"The Twelve Labors of Hercules?" Jane asked sarcastically, a wry smile twisting her lips, even though Sif's explanation had caused her more stress.

Sif's brow furrowed with complete puzzlement. "I'm not certain..."

Jane bit her lip, obvious discomfort rising to her features. "I'm sorry. It's nothing. He just - didn't tell me what the next step would be. This is catching me off guard." She ran a hand nervously through her hair. "Thanks for the offer. I'll let you know."

Sif leaned against her entryway as she watched Jane depart with the Einherjar. She was utterly at a loss for the reason why Thor would not have been forthcoming with Jane regarding Asgard's expectations of her. However, she did not fully understand Midgardians or their habits; it was possible she had merely misunderstood.

Despite the perplexing nature of Jane's visit, Sif's heart was lightened. The impact of her absence made it evident that she was missed. She could not disguise the nostalgic smile that formed on her lips as she thought about returning to Thor's right arm.


Jane's stomach had formed a hard and heavy knot the moment Sif had mentioned how long her visit on Asgard had been thus far. Panic was rising in her chest, stealing her breath as she walked swiftly through the long hallways of the palace. If Sif was roughly correct, then it meant she had already stayed much longer than what she had arranged for on Earth. Caught in a whirlwind of this surreal experience, she had made a mistake that could cost her the career for which she had worked her entire life.

Dazed, perplexed, and worried over the possibilities of what may be waiting for her when she returned, she walked into the dining hall completely prepared to ask him what she had to do to return that night. However, her words died on her lips the moment she saw him waiting for her.

Thor, the entity written about in Earth's poems and legends, had opened the entire galaxy to her, putting it at her fingertips. In doing so, he shunned custom, risked civil disruption, and opposed his nearly omnipotent father for the sake of bringing her there. Yet, as the warm smile spread across his lips, and light filled his eyes, she realized all he had ever wanted in return was the opportunity to know her better. The urgency of her demand cooled as sadness enveloped her. For the first time since her arrival, she felt completely torn in two; she had always assumed he would take her back to Earth at the time of her choosing, but now that seemed like an impossible choice.

"Did you enjoy yourself today?" he asked, greeting her with a kiss on her cheek.

She cleared her throat and nodded, hoping to hide the dissonance she felt. "The city is amazing."

He brushed her hair back; she realized how odd it was that her lips curved up involuntarily at his touch, despite her internal argument. "Is this new?" he asked, holding up her arm to inspect the gold band around her wrist.

"I know - it's huge. I thought it looked nice on the shelf, but…" she trailed off. "I hope you don't mind. It's the only thing I used your seal for besides lunch."

"It's a trifle matter compared to what you're worth," he said, kissing the top of her hand. He expected her to laugh or to move towards him to kiss his lips as she had done in the past. She only smiled, its brightness dulled by a source he did not know. "What's troubling you?"

She hesitated, searching for words. "How long have I been here?"

He shook his head as he counted back. "A month - perhaps half more."

She sighed deeply and took her hand from his. "I only planned for three weeks."

He chuckled, failing to understand her. "I assumed you were biding your time - delaying your return intentionally. I am delighted you've decided to remain here for longer."

"Then why does it feel like I just got here?" she asked. Her tone and volume climbed; Thor was beginning to finally understand the seriousness behind her question. "I feel like I'm off by a month."

"It is said that time flows differently in Asgard than it does in the mortal realm, though I have not experienced the sensation of it myself," he said. "Does a mere week or so really matter so much?"

"Yes - because I have a job and people who depend on me. I'll be lucky if my stuff isn't on the street corner when I get back," she argued intensely. Her voice quieted once again as she felt a shadow of guilt for aiming her frustration towards him. "I messed up, Thor."

"Are your employers really so merciless?"

She rubbed her temple with her fingers; he didn't understand her, but she couldn't place the entirety of the blame on his shoulders. He had no context around the way their culture worked, and his upbringing as a member of the highest class in his own world most likely added to his ignorance. "They're not employers - they're worse. They've paid me a lot of money to bring them the results of years worth of research. What results do you think I've harvested in the last month?"

He ran his fingers through her hair and rested his palm on her cheek. "You've travelled the galaxy and have lived among the people of another realm. Surely you can bring them something of value."

She rested her head against his chest, falling into his embrace. "You would think so," she said dryly, "but every inch of Asgard defies the very laws of physics. There's nothing here I can relate to Earth without years of study and all of my equipment."

Thor sighed, enjoying the warmth of her before asking the one question he didn't want to hear the answer to. "You want to return, is that why you're troubled?"

She nodded. "I'm sorry." Thor scoffed softly and she could tell there was an argument brewing in his mind that he would not allow himself to speak. She lifted her head from his chest and pulled away to look in his eyes, begging a response from him.

His mouth opened, but no words came. He looked out the window towards Asgard's star, his chest filling with jealousy towards the world that beckoned her away. "I had hoped to sway your decision by now," he indirectly answered. "Perhaps just another week or so…"

He looked at her hopefully, but mist began to gather in her eyes, washing down his optimism. "What difference would it make? I can't make the decision to leave everything in my life behind right now."

"It would make a difference, Jane. Every day you remain here, Asgard grows to know you better. As the will of my people change, so does that of my father's," he explained. "I have softened Odin's heart towards the idea of your presence here before and I may do so again. A little more time may help my efforts. Please, stay for a while longer. Permit me to prove to my father the worthiness I've seen in you this entire time, so we may not be so confined to the limitations of this one visit."

Her features softened. "But another week… my job…" she attempted to argue.

"If your benefactors abandon you so quickly, I will visit them with Mjolnir at my side and use all of my power to compel them to change their minds," he joked. She laughed, but at the same time, wondered if he would actually follow through on his jest.

"Thor…"

He interrupted her with a brief, sweet kiss. "If this is truly the beginning of our parting, I wish only to delay it as long as possible. Just a little longer, Jane…"

She smiled softly. "A little longer," she agreed.


"…and she was so hideous, the citizens actually petitioned to have her banished to Niflheim." The group chuckled at the conclusion of Volstagg's story. "Honestly, how could one man have so many children who are so - perverse? I know we're speaking of Loki, but…"

"I don't know if that's fair to say," Fandral started with a laugh he tried, but failed to repress, "Sleipnir turned out well."

Volstagg laughed and slapped him on the arm. "True! How could I forget him?"

Sif joined in their merriment, entertained by her friend's method of storytelling, even if the subject was particularly disturbing. "And this Midgardian book," she said, pointing to the volume laying on the table in front of her, "all of this is in here?"

"Yes, and you should have Jane translate it to you. What you've heard from us is only a small portion and the section on Loki alone is worth your time," Fandral answered. "It's very - enlightening."

"Do not place too much faith in a book of legends and myths," Thor said from the doorway of the smaller, corner room in which they often met. "It's full of falsities and exaggerations - and many of our relationships are - misrepresented."

"Yes, I think they are," Sif said knowingly.

He pulled out a chair to sit down. As he made himself comfortable, his eyes met hers for a moment, an air of sadness in his expression she had rarely seen. She dared not ask him about it, it wasn't her place, but she couldn't help her thought that it was her sudden reappearance in the palace after her adamant insistence on distance that had bothered him so. He was obviously surprised at her attendance, but his silent tongue implied he had no quarrel with her presence. Perhaps she was wrong.

"How did you come by the Midgardian book?" he asked, dropping his eyes to the table in front of him.

Her smile fell. She suddenly felt her boldness was foolish, though she had hoped it would allow her the opportunity to speak with him to mend their friendship. "Jane gave it to me. She thought I would be interested in some segments of it."

"When did you speak with her?"

"Just yesterday," she answered. "She came to me," she added quickly in her own defense.

He shook his head. "No… I - I was just curious, that's all."

Sif's brow wrinkled in confusion, but she didn't press the issue further. The heavy change in mood was noticed by the Three, but none said a word to disperse the thick silence for a long moment. Finally, Thor spoke.

"So regarding the events of this week," he started, clearing his throat. "Are there any reports?"

"Due the recent threat, the metalsmiths have increased production by ten percent in order to adequately gird our current forces and those coming out of the academy. They have also begun experimenting with other metals that can create stronger blends or are available in greater quantities. They hope to have something definitive within the year," Hogan stated.

"Good," Thor replied, "but tell them to reduce their efforts by half. There's no need to burn through our resources before we know what we may be facing." Hogan nodded in acknowledgement.

"Folkvar's family has sent a note of gratitude to you and the Allfather for sparing his life after his attempt to assassinate Loki," Fandral started. "He has graciously accepted his demotion and has been stripped of his title, as you've ordered. They await word on whether or not he will serve time in prison."

"I won't have him serve, but reveal it not to him or his family. It will serve him better to fear it as a possibility. Ensure his new post keeps him at the far side of the city at all times and tell the Einherjar to apprehend him if he is seen on palace grounds."

"Yes, Sir," Fandral said.

"Speaking of Folkvar," Volstagg said, "Garik has taken it upon himself to guard Loki's southern wall."

"Why? He resigned that post," Sif said, a feeling of sudden nervousness rising from the pit of her stomach. Garik often worked at night due to his keen vision in the dark and his ability to remain unseen and unheard if he wished. It was quite possible he had been on shift during one of the many nights she had visited Loki through his window.

"He feels it's his personal duty after his brother's treachery. I admire his initiative," he said.

"I feel it may not be worthy of his time, but if he so wishes…" Thor started.

"Actually, he already has something of worth to report - an interesting development that may cause you concern."

"Oh?" Thor asked with a light chuckle. "Loki has been severed from his magic, and he has taken up strange, new hobbies as entertainment to fill his time. What kind of trouble could he possibly be causing?"

"He has had a visitor to his chambers during the night hours - a woman," Volstagg said.

Sif's stomach sank suddenly as the air left her lungs and the color left her cheeks, but Thor was too stunned to notice the panic crossing her features. "What?" he asked in disbelief. "You jest!"

Volstagg chortled at Thor's strong reaction and shook his head. "It is no jest, My Lord. She enters his southern window and leaves before sunrise. She has avoided the guard's sight this way."

"Does Garik recognize her?" he asked.

"No," he answered. Sif had to stop herself from exhaling in relief. "There is, in fact, some argument regarding her identity. As you have not explicitly barred him from female company, I feel it's not worth our efforts or worry, provided he remains in his quarters. Fandral believes he may use her for nefarious purposes, and so feels we should investigate further."

Thor leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. "He hasn't openly taken a woman in some time. I had wondered if he was still interested in them. I hadn't entertained the possibility that he might have had someone," he said. He scratched his beard in thought. "I am curious about her."

"I agree with Volstagg's position," Sif said, breaking into the discussion suddenly as she tried to remain stoic in her appearance. "She might also prove to be a distraction from his normal mischief, in which case, we should let her be."

"Sif, I would think you'd want to know what kind of tart would betray her own honor," Fandral spoke with a wry chuckle.

Sif's eyes fell as heat rose to her face, but she abstained from reacting for fear of revealing herself.

"Harsh words," Thor spoke, "She is still a sister of Asgard and we know nothing of her motivation."

"She is a whore - and a cheap one at that if she's willing to couple with a traitor," Fandral stated, his words dripping with bitterness. "If she isn't, then we should arrest her. If she's not being compensated, I'd wager there is evil in her intentions."

Sif's hands shook in anger as they rested in her lap. Fandral was blind to who his words were really directed towards, but she was sick with the idea they would not change, even if he knew the truth.

"Enough," Volstagg interjected. "You're just concerned that Loki may have found the one woman in our realm you haven't had yourself."

His bitterness temporarily left him and he chortled. "Perhaps; I'd hate to tarnish my record."

"I can see the value in both of your arguments," Thor said. "I think we should look into it and question her if we're able. If not, it doesn't worry me. Sif, this is probably a job better suited for a woman. Would you investigate and find out what you can about her?"

"Certainly," she said. She could feel her heart rate slow and her blood cool. Thor had inadvertently saved her honor with this assignment. Still, she would need to speak with Garik and find out what he knew.

The Three finished their business with Thor and left. Sif was about to follow when Thor called her back. As the hour had grown later, his troubled expression hadn't improved. Her heart grew heavy with fear that he might send her further from him, or might express displeasure at her unexpected attendance to their meeting.

"Thor," she started, nervously rubbing her palms together, "I shouldn't have come without announcing myself. I've missed my friends and these gatherings - and I made a wide assumption that I would be welcomed here as I once was. I am sorry."

He rose from his chair and walked over to her, leaning down to her level so he could softly kiss her on the cheek. As his lips lingered there, she closed her eyes, savoring his scent and the bristles of his beard upon her skin. "Sif, you are always welcome here, even if I do a poor job of making that evident. We were all very happy to see you."

She opened her mouth to ask him why, then, he seemed so despondent, but she still did not feel it appropriate. Her soul warmed to hear these words. For now, this was pleasant enough to leave her content.

"So," she started, clearing her throat, "what is it you wish to discuss?"

"When could you be ready to return to Jotunheim?"

"A day or so is all I would need."

"Then do what you require."

"So soon?" she asked in surprise.

"My father believes they should not be left idle for too long. We should press them firmly to accept more and we'd ask that you would introduce the idea of relocating from their planet to another realm. The earlier we mention it, the more likely they may be to eventually accept these conditions when the time draws nearer."

"I will do what I can," she said. The Frost Giants would most likely laugh in her face when she brought up the issue. In fact, she wagered they would rather stand upon the crust of Jotunheim as it collapsed than relocate. However, she wouldn't voice her thoughts to Thor until she was sure they would decline.

"I realize we're asking what may be impossible," Thor said, echoing her unspoken thoughts. "But - I think they will listen to you. I also wanted to thank you for looking into my brother's friend."

Sif swallowed hard. "It will be a small matter to find her," she said, regretting her words after she'd spoken them; she wasn't sure how she was going to find a way around such a promise without exposing herself.

He chortled. "I cannot picture him with a woman, given his latest changes. His bitterness and hatred of me seems to consume him as of late. I thought he would not have room for anything else in his hardened heart - and for a woman of this realm to give herself to him after what he has done… I can only surmise they found each other before his fall."

"Perhaps he cares not for her as much as you think he does," she offered. The sick feeling in her stomach returned. Blood burned in her cheeks and she turned her back to him so he would not see.

"Possibly, but he is capable of strong attachments to others," he argued. "Did you know he had feelings for you when we were children?"

"I had an idea," she answered, trying her best to sound humored.

"Every woman he's ever been with has either been scared away or tossed aside after only a short time - and he has not had one in so long I thought he had given up." He sighed and looked out the window, scratching his head in thought. "I think you and Fandral are wrong. He is taking a risk with her and she with him. I doubt either would do so unless there was something there."

"You assume too much, considering the information at hand," she said, though his latter words caused her stomach to turn for reasons she couldn't identify. "We don't even know how long they've been seeing each other."

"You know nothing of Loki's history with women, do you?" he asked with a laugh.

"I've never paid attention before," she answered honestly.

"Well, it matters not," he said with a smile. "In any case, she will probably serve to distract him and raise his spirits, as you have said, so I am content to leave them be. It will be a comfort to know her identity though - and ensure she is cut off from offering him help of an unscrupulous nature."

"I will do my best with this task as well," she said.

He smiled. "I expect no less," he said. She turned to leave, but before she reached the door, he started again. "Sif - I have missed your voice and your smile at my table. Please don't let it be so long before you join us for another meal."

"Thank you, Thor," she answered sincerely, "I won't."


After her meeting with Thor, Sif went home and changed into unassuming, neutral-colored robes. Although she had every reason for visiting the home of a fellow warrior in the residential district, she wished to avoid attracting attention to herself for this particular mission. The garb of nobility, a common sight in that area, would be far less conspicuous than her full, easily-recognizable armor.

Her horse clopped slowly along the damp, stony streets as she searched for a familiar marker that would indicate where exactly she was within the matrix of the city. The sun was nearly set, casting long shadows across the doorways of the houses. She had forgotten which was his street, and as the night obscured the door numbers, she feared she would have to return on a later day. A long time had passed since she'd been in that area of the city, and the winding streets painted in strange shadows would easily confuse someone who wasn't entirely sure where they were going.

Just as she was about to relent for the evening, the soft cry of a newborn infant filled the air, directing her to the correct home. She tied her horse and knocked on the door; a lovely young woman answered, holding a baby in her arms. Sif smiled kindly, surmising it was his wife and his daughter, who had been born only a week or so before.

"Can I help you?" she asked, rocking her child gently and soothing its muted cries. She looked at the other woman skeptically, no doubt wondering why they had such a late caller.

Sif pulled down her hood so the other woman could see her face. "Is this the home of Garik?"

"Lady Sif!" she exclaimed in surprise, bowing as well as she could with her child in her arms. "Please - come in!"

Sif smiled in gratitude. "I apologize for my late intrusion. I must speak with him and it's a matter of some importance that I'm afraid cannot wait."

His wife quickly waved off the trouble and rushed into the other room to retrieve him as Sif stepped in and closed their door. "My Lady," he greeted, emerging from the back room of their home. "To what do I owe the honor of your presence here?"

"Are we alone?" she asked.

"Yes," he said uncertainly, obviously confused about the reason for her visit. "My wife has given us some time and is feeding our child in the other room. We have as much privacy as can be afforded."

She could not come to words right away, not the ones she needed to say. She bought herself a few moments as she thought of how to ask the right questions without garnering suspicion. "Your child is lovely," she said.

He smiled. "Thank you."

She bit her lip nervously, realizing that the quiet archer was not much for words, even when presented with the opportunity to boast over his daughter. "Your house is quite modest for someone of your skill. Have you thought about taking the position your brother formally held? The increase in benefits would grant you more room for your growing family." She knew she had been insensitive as she'd spoken and hoped he hadn't taken it as abuse against himself or his brother.

"I mean no offense, but I have never had a superior visit my home, and while I appreciate your attention to my daughter and my position, I highly doubt that this menial conversation was the reason you've come."

She took a deep breath and sat down on his couch, her eyes focused on the fire as she swallowed the nervousness that had claimed her tongue. "Forgive me," she started, "I hate the idea of interrupting your night with your family for official purposes, but there is something I must know."

He sat down across from her, his stare dropping to the floor. She'd hoped it was paranoia, but he already seemed to guess what she was about to ask. "Whatever you need."

"I - I have been charged with investigating the identity of an Asgardian who may have an -intimate relationship with Loki. Volstagg has cited your report as a source for this information, and as you have been the only person to witness his or her appearance at his window, I thought I would begin here. Is there anything you might be able to tell me?"

He swallowed and took some time in his response. "My Lady," he started in a whisper, "I know it is you."

Her complexion paled as her mouth opened for an argument that would not come. She turned her head from him, but in the firelight, he could see the reflection of the panic that filled her eyes. She made no move to deny his accusation. She had sensed from the onset that he had seen her somehow. His admission was only a confirmation of the truth that she had so feared. "Why did you deceive them? Why did you tell them you knew not who it was?" she asked, her voice quiet and strained.

He leaned forward, resting his arms on the top of his legs as his eyes searched some distant, invisible point for the answer. "I meant no deception," he explained truthfully, "but it is not my place to bear such news to them, nor will it ever be."

She looked sharply and questioningly up at him, willing back the wave of nausea that had abruptly hit her stomach. Now that someone knew, this entire endeavor seemed more real, forcing her to face the truth in a new, unflattering light. "It's an offense to your position to exclude such pertinent information from a report. Why would you risk such an omission?"

"They never pressed me for more information than what I volunteered - and what I left out was a small omission meant to save someone I respect from great humiliation," he explained. "Besides this purpose, however - though he has committed great harm, I feel I owe a debt to Prince Loki."

She scoffed, looking back towards the bedroom door to ensure his wife was still outside of hearing range. "A debt? How?" she asked in disbelief. "He has also done wrong against you and your family."

Once again, the archer fell silent as he planned his words carefully. Her patience waned, but she owed him at least this time in exchange for what he'd done. "I violated the confidence of my station. I witnessed a conversation between the prince and queen in which a great secret was discussed. Instead of holding my tongue as I should have, I shared this with my brother. He betrayed my trust - and the secret I spilled was one of the driving forces behind his attempt on Loki's life."

"Loki threatened your family…" she began.

"His threat held no weight - and didn't warrant my betrayal," he argued. He dropped his register again, his voice in barely a whisper so that even she had difficulty hearing what his next words were. "The Allfather kept this secret for a reason. I did myself and my king dishonor by sharing it so freely, even to my most trusted kin. I cannot make amends to the queen or Odin without placing my position at risk, but I can remain silent for the sake of the prince as recompense for my loose lips."

She sighed slowly; the knot in her stomach had begun to relax, but she felt a new one form in her throat. "For once, Loki's actions have benefited me, and yet I am not much eased by it," she remarked through her strained voice. "I trust I have your word then? You will keep this close to your chest?"

"Yes," he answered without hesitation. "For revealing one secret, I shall keep another."

She nodded uneasily. The feeling that she had narrowly avoided something horrible was not abated by his promise. "I will take my leave of you then, and allow you rest with your family."

She stood and walked to his door to leave, but he followed closely; he wasn't finished. "My Lady," he said hesitantly, "I may be overstepping my bounds - but this secret would much easier to keep if I could continue my watch without fear of seeing you there."

She looked at him sharply, her eyes suddenly stern and colder than he had ever seen before. "You do overstep your bounds," she said firmly. "Your guard over him is no longer official since you resigned the post. You have no authority in the situation - or in the choices he and I make outside of the welfare of Asgard. If you no longer wish to see me at his window, then I would suggest you stop watching it."

His eyes dropped submissively. "Yes, Lady Sif," he said with a bow.

Her features softened. "Thank you," she said in a gentler tone. "I owe you a debt I can't repay for fear of revealing myself."

He bowed again and showed her out. A weight had been lifted from her shoulders, though it did not affect the fear in her heart. Her actions, however, proved disparate from her thoughts once again. As she rode off, she found herself not on the road that would lead her back to her own home, but on the path that would return her to palace grounds.


The flicker of faint firelight from his small window could be seen from a distance. As she approached, she could see his form sitting on his floor in near darkness as he poured over a book. His brow wrinkled in concentration as he studied the diagrams and symbols on each page. She didn't understand what the text meant, but she guessed it had to do with his magic, and wagered he would gladly trade its presence on his lap for hers.

She gently knocked on the ledge, knowing he hadn't expected her that night. He looked up, a faint smile of surprise resting on his mouth for a small moment. It looked to be almost a difficult task for him, as his face had been frozen in pain for a long time with very few opportunities to break the mask of anger he built over his features.

He stood and helped her through the narrow opening, remaining careful not to grow too close to the outside wall, as the perimeter enchantments still caused him physical pain. "You've decided to knock for once?" he jested. "What honor is this?"

"What sweet welcome you bring," she retorted, matching his dry tone.

He wasted little time and pressed himself to her form as he brushed her hair from her shoulder and pulled her robe away to expose an area of her white skin. He kissed it gently, his warm breath stirring around her neck and causing chills down her spine as he pulled her even closer. "Strange clothing," he said into her ear, referring to the simple dress that would be more often found on a noble outside of the court. "I suppose if it's easy to take off, I have no complaint."

She sighed impatiently, wishing away the rush of blood his voice had caused to surge through her limbs. The shame she felt in Garik's quarters only an hour before had already faded with his simple touch. The disparate pull of her body and mind made her ache in discomfort. She quickly balanced and calculated her risks versus her rewards, reckoning she could tolerate one more night of this in his strange, warm company, though it would not fix her problems, or ameliorate the confusing, unpleasant feeling in her chest.

His lips met hers roughly as though it had been weeks since he'd tasted her. Conceding to her weaknesses, she reciprocated in kind, running her hand down the center of his chest to the belt of his pants. Her troubles from earlier began to fade to gray as his fingers moved systematically up her sides, searching for whatever it was keeping her dress on her body. The dark outer robe around her shoulders fell easily to the ground along with her satchel, but it would not be as simple as he'd hoped to remove the rest. "I have little patience. How important is this garment to you?"

She smiled softly and pulled away, his question begging back her sobriety. "There's something we need to discuss," she said.

He laughed lowly. "Communication has never been our strength. We should busy our mouths with better efforts." He moved in to kiss her again, but she pushed him away and sat down at the hearth of his fireplace. "What is wrong with you?" he asked darkly, unable to hide his impatience with her stubbornness.

She scoffed at his words and his sudden change in tone, but chose not to be baited into an argument. It had been easy to forget that the sole source of agreeability they had enjoyed since their childhood had little to do with words. "Is it so difficult for you to cool your blood and still your hands for one moment?"

A wicked smile spread over his lips. "I cannot help it if my body is now trained to respond to your arrival at my window." He kneeled in front of her and unfastened her boot, looking up at her with a devilish glint she knew meant trouble; this would only lead to her frustration with what would surely be her submission to his whims. The leather slowly slid from her slender leg. He ran his hand down the length of her calf, kneading it with his long fingers. Her blood reacted to his warm, light touch, the simple measure forcing heat to rise to her cheeks and a blush to darken her lips against her will. "Do I not yet elicit the same response in you?"

She sighed, attempting fruitlessly to control her breathing as he moved to repeat the act on her other leg. "No - not when there are more important issues at hand," she lied.

She lacked the skill of deception. He smiled in self-satisfaction as she bit her lip, and he continued the movements of his hands even when she gently tried to pull herself away. "What issue competes with me for your focus?" he asked. He leaned his head down, placing a feather light kiss on her shin. "Tell me so I can best it quickly and return to what's important."

"I have been seen - leaving these quarters," she said flatly, wishing it would cause him enough shock that he would stop.

Her blunt confession seemed to work. He paused his pleasing motions and looked up at her. "Who?"

"One who has been watching you without my knowledge and…"

"The archer."

"You knew?" she asked in astonishment. "How..?"

"He's not the only one with eyes suited for the dark," he said, resuming his affections. "I saw him a week ago or more."

"You know what this may cost me. Why didn't you say something?"

"I didn't tell you because I desired not to jeopardize these appointments," he answered honestly. "You have a penchant for overreacting. For a warrior renowned for her bravery, you've been quite timid regarding your appointments here."

He gently pushed the material of her gown further up her legs and kissed her knee, running his tongue over the contours in a teasing manner as he made his way to her thigh. She half-heartedly struggled from his grasp, but the mischievous spark in his eye indicated he would not easily relent this time.

"You aren't worried because you have little to lose," she argued, despite the roughness that had suddenly claimed her voice, "you've forgotten what I've wagered in this agreement."

A dry laugh escaped his throat. "Why are you so concerned? He will either tell someone or he won't. If he does admit it, you'll simply deny it - and they will believe you because you're their valiant, loyal Sif. If he is silent, your fear is unfounded."

She paused to consider his words, and he worked her silence to his advantage. His fingers slipped under the material of her gown and inched the garment to her waist at an antagonizing, slow pace, his moist lips and warm breath following as he tasted and kissed his way closer. Her breath caught in her throat and her impatience ebbed. There would be time for her temper later. "Loki…" she said in a half-gasp, unable to tell him to stop, as she didn't honestly want him to. She leaned back, gently pulling his hands further along to encourage faster exploration, but just as her breath quickened and she grew content to allow the argument to rest, he stopped.

"Why did he keep this between the two of you?" he asked. "He could have used this to some advantage."

She sighed as he stopped his progress, his warmth leaving as he withdrew away from her and sat back on his legs. "He didn't," she answered. "He reported an anonymous visitor to Fandral and Volstagg. He has only hidden her identity."

"Why would he take such risk? What favor does he owe you that would warrant a lie to his superiors?"

"Actually," she began with some hesitation, "it is you he feels he owes - for the betrayal of the queen's confidence and the attack on your life."

He chuckled, a reaction that perplexed Sif, though she had grown accustomed to his odd behavior. "Then we have nothing to be concerned about," he said. He kissed her knee softly again, looking up into her doubtful eyes. She wanted him to continue where he had left off, but instead of encouraging the kind of attentions he had been paying her, she slid off the slick, stone hearth and onto his lap. Slowly, almost tentatively, she pressed her lips to his.

He returned her motions, savoring the sweet taste of her mouth and the feeling of her fingertips as they caressed the line down the center of his chest. Her actions, welcomed as they were, lacked the hunger and heat they normally showed. The entire reason she had started this game was because he affirmed her desirability, stroking her ego and vanity as he loved her body and the sensation of it pressed against her own. She sought this affirmation desperately from him, her fervor proven in fingernail marks and twisted sheets. For her to use such slow, nearly chaste, care was strange. He had only tasted her in such a way once before, and though he knew her lips well, the change was confusing.

He pulled her hips close to his and twisted their bodies, laying her gently on the floor. She smiled softly as he hovered above her, brushing her hair away from her neck. "This is not the only reason for which you came, is it?"

Her gentle smile remained, but her brown eyes dimmed slightly. "You asked me to be forthcoming with you."

He slowed his attentions as his hands worked against the material still covering her skin. "You would end this so soon?" he asked.

"'So soon?'" she said. "How long did you expect this to endure?"

He smiled in his usual, wicked manner, but it faltered quickly, revealing his own doubt. His brow furrowed, but he hid his uncertainty with the same angered expression he'd recently worn as a mask to cover his real pain. "Long enough to leave a lasting impression," he said, kissing her neck and moving his lips along her collarbone as his hand slipped from her leg to her waist.

She frowned, somehow feeling worse towards the concealment of his true self than towards any harsh word he'd spoken since his return. He had no further interest in talking, however, and she doubted she could ever beg any authentic honesty from him. Content to end the conversation, she conceded to his touch.

At first, she wrapped her hand around the back of his neck to encourage his momentum so the part of her that wanted to continue their futile discussion would be effectively distracted. He lifted his head momentarily to meet her lips again, and as he did, she could see a total lack of confidence in his eyes that she had never before seen on his features. His brow locked even deeper, and before she could raise any question or concern, he kissed her roughly and tightened his grip on her hip.

"Loki…" she whispered a groan as she worked to pull his fingers loose. The sound of his name merely encouraged him and his grasp on her tightened further as he pushed against her with more force. "Stop…" she said again.

The sudden hiss from her throat alerted him to the severity of his actions and he abruptly took his hand from her. He looked down at her apologetically; his mouth opened, but no words came out. Though his adamancy had hurt her, she looked sympathetically towards him. At merely the suggestion of ending what was an empty facsimile of a real relationship, he had reverted to his old ways. In part, her vanity was pleased that he would take it so hard, though another large part of her was almost fearful of what it might mean when it was time for her to leave. Perhaps he would eventually learn how to express this differently, but for now, he was happy to continue hiding in the dark shadows he'd brought with him from the abyss.

"Well, we have tonight," he said uneasily, kissing her chin as though nothing had happened. "Let tomorrow bring what it may."

She agreed silently, realizing the moment of rare transparency was over. Her common sense fought against the will of her flesh, but she gave no objection as he found her mouth again. Her body fell into its familiar rhythm with his, and she remained in his company for the rest of the night.