Hello Readers! Thank you so much for your reviews, favorites and follows. They are always appreciated and I look forward to them. This is a longer chapter so brace yourself and enjoy.

She kicked off her brown boots and removed her armor as she entered her chamber with in the palace. The young noble woman slipped out of her garments. Her short tunic skirt and tights. She didn't bother folding them. She roughly untied her hair from the pony tail it was end. She was still sweaty from head to toe but she was too exhausted to bother with a good bath. She was simply ready for bed. She had come from her weekly round with Thor. It had become a game between them. They'd spar together once a week to keep themselves sharp and on their toes. It was a way to prove to each other the gender superiority which was a constant and merry dispute between them. The game was always good fun the winner got the bragging rights for the week and the loser had to treat the winner to a nights worth of ale at their tavern of choice… even if that Tavern was as far as Alfheim. The warrior woman always looked forward to practicing with Thor. He was one of few who could actually give her a run for her money. Besides that it offered her a few rare moments alone with him. She had been ready for a good battle. She got it. Her sparring match with Prince Thor had been challenging and draining. Not in the right way. Not in the way that left her brow dripping or left her muscles begging for her to quit (Not that she ever conceded victory. She'd sooner live as a servant in Odin's household than surrender her title as the most fearsome female warrior in all of Asgard without being truly bested.) It had not challenged her in the sense that got her blood pumping from head to toe and left her invigorated and thirsty for the next bout.

Once they started sparring it didn't take her long to find the wide open areas in his defense. He kept his legs too far apart making his stance shaky. His foot work was clumsy and amateurish. He was relying solely on strength and not all on technique. Thor was much too skilled a warrior to truly believe that sheer size was enough to win a battle, especially with a soldier as versed in war as she. His mistakes throughout the sparring session were careless mistakes. They were blaring and she easily exploited them. She knocked him flat on his back with in only an hour of the first round. She laughed and taunted him before offering a hand to help him up. "What have you grown weary?" she asked jovially as his massive hand wrapped around her slender, yet calloused palm. She pushed her straggly, fly-a-way brunette hairs from her face and flashed a smile in his direction. He grumbled and dusted off his tunics. "I'll count that as a practice round," she went on reached to the side of her belt and pulling the wineskin from one of the leather belt straps and taking along drink of water. "Come on, best 4 out of 5," she urged She wiped the back of her hand removing the access moisture from her lips. She tossed the wineskin aside after she plugged the cork back in. She flung it and it hit the silver wall of Prince Thor private chamber. She immediately pulled back out her double-bladed staff and got in fighting position. She showed her teeth in a playful growl ready to continue. The golden son of the great king gave a lackluster grin, but picked up a sword and continued in the bout. He seemed to have a little more concentration. He seemed to put a little more effort in, but still he was distracted. His eyes weren't watching the flash of her lance. They seemed somehow far off. She took a jab at his middle and he doubled over grabbing his gut. A foolish move. She shook her head almost pityingly at how he would leave his defenses so vulnerable. Nonetheless she could never allow herself anything less than a victory. She jumped up using her staff as a pole and swung around kicking his face up and landing him on his back again. Normally, their matches could go for several hours and still end in a tie. He hated losing, same as she, but he merely accepted the defeat and asked for his attending male servant to fill his wine goblet as he sauntered over to lift some barbells. Each weight 15 tons, but it was meager work-out for the thunderer,

"Six- pence for your thoughts," she said as she followed him to the area of the gymnasium where he could press weights. She watched as his glistening biceps pressed up on the barbells before she fetched the coin from her money purse and tossed it at his massive chest.

He chuckled as he felt the small copper coin bounce off one of his bulging pecks. "What do you mean?" he asked Sif as he lowered the weights to the ground.

"What's on your mind?" she inquired further she took a step closer. "It obviously not on our sparring session tonight," She shrugged. "So what is it?" she pressed,

"It's nothing," Thor attempted. His big hand flapped as he flagged away her friendly concern.

"You're a terrible liar," the shield maiden declared. She rolled her eyes and smiled and folded her sculpted arms across the gleaming silver breastplate on her chest. "Just say it!" she nearly ordered as she punched him in the shoulder. "You can talk to me," she offered hopefully.

He sighed heavily. He rested his elbow on his knees as blew exasperated breath from his lips as he buried his handsome face in the palm of his sturdy bronzed hands. " I've just been thinking about...Loki," he confessed.

"Loki?" Sif couldn't control the way her lips snarled when she said his name. It was as if it were almost taboo, a foul word that no one had business uttering. She curled her lip as if such guttural terms should not be uttered in front of the Golden Prince. It had been almost two months since the disgraced prince's sentencing and after the first week no one had broached the subject with Thor. Sif thought perhaps Thor was finally seeing how this was for the good of all Asgard and possibly all the realms in general as the king had stated.

"Father has been unyielding about his decision of punishment," The blonde son of Odin elaborated.

"As he should be," she replied.

Thor looked up at her his sapphire eyes seemed to be baffled and hurt by her staunch retort. His blonde hairs bobbled as he shook his head rejecting her words. "What?" He asked in disbelief

"There is a reason why he is being kept in solitary, you saw what he did at the sentencing," the brown-eyed warrior reminded him sharply. "He's dangerous!" she hissed.

"His magic is weak now... he's not that much of a threat," Thor shrugged."Isolation for that long of a time, though," The burly royal felt a shudder crawl up his spine as he thought about centuries passing with Loki having such little contact with anyone." Loki will not be sane by the end of it," Thor sighed his blue eyes gazed with horror thinking about what centuries alone could do to someone. Someone like Loki. Loki had always been a bit of a loner, but he was still a person in need of some contact. And not just contact from a jailers iron rod beating him on the back.

"You speak as if he is sane now," Sif scoffed boredly.

"Loki is beyond reason, but he's not a raving lunatic," Thor tried to express to her. "Not yet at least," he stated and looked up at her. Her face didn't show much emotion, but she stepped closer to him placing her palm on his sweaty shoulder. "That's what he'll be by the end of all this Sif...if he even survives," Thor urged."The punishment is too severe!" the older son of Odin stated firmly, "It is a fate worse than death," Thor expressed he was halfway vehement.

"Then it is justice," the dark-haired warrior responded without any remorse.

The prince stood up enraged. "How can you say that?" he demanded of her.

"How can you say otherwise?" she questioned back with boldness her temper flaring at the thought

"He's my brother! Because he's my friend." Thor yelled back at her. His voice was a rumble of thunder to be heard across the land. It was so powerful and gigantic that it would send anyone running and ducking for cover, not her though she stood flat footed in her boots the resolve of a warrior of the highest medal never faltering with in her.

She threw her head back and laughed. "He's your brother! He's your friend?" She scoffed. "Is he? He tried to wipe out an entire race. Frost giants or not… he would have committed genocide had the Bifrost not been destroyed."

"He just…"

"He had you banished and stole the throne," she insisted.

"My own actions led to that and Loki was lawfully the next in line," Thor reasoned quickly.

"He tried to enslave an entire realm! You claim that as a brother?" she asked her lip snarling with repulsion at the thought.

"Yes," Thor answered resolutely.

"How?" Sif shouted back.

"Because deep down inside I know that the real Loki's still there!" The future king insisted. "A Loki that's kind and wise, and humorous…that's loyal…and"

Sif rolled her dark-colored eyes to the back of her head. "The real Loki," Sif chuckled humorlessly tossing her head back. "What if the qualities you mentioned were never really there, what if it was all just a lie and a sham?" She questioned furious as she stared into Thor's blinking blue orbs. She saw the hurt flicker there and the mist form beneath the lids. She almost stopped almost stifled herself but she couldn't. The truth had to be shed. "Perhaps this is who he really is," She expressed almost breathlessly with the confession. Perhaps he is no more than a destructive creature of chaos!" she protested pointing her hand toward the ground.

"You Know that's not true," Thor thundered at her.

"I know that he's a liar. I know that he's always been cruel and deceitful and I know you always turned a blind eye to it!" she growled. "What I don't know is why?" he voice rippled angrily and she glared up at him demanding an answer. Her deep set brown eyes nearly jumped from their sockets. "Why? Why?' she demanded with all indignation. "Why would you want to see him after all the terrible atrocities he's caused?" she threw her hands up in the air and paced around the muscular blonde. "You saw how he acted during his sentencing. Shameless! He would have killed that poor guard!" she pointed out.

"He didn't kill him," Thor defended Loki quickly.

"Only because Odin stopped him he was choking the life out of him in front of our very lives. He slaughtered hundreds of innocent mortals! He's a monster," she finally blurted out grabbing Thor by his strong sweating shoulders and shaking him as if trying to shake some sense into his thick skull. . It happened quickly. So quickly that she hadn't even processed her tongue forming the words. She gasped after the words escaped her lips. Her calloused, manicured fingers faltered in their hold on the prince. She looked up at Thor. Shock plan as day in his crystal blue eyes. Before she could suck her lips back in and regret the harsh name she felt Thor solid hands wrap around her forearms. He spun her around and pinned her against the wall. Her armor protected her from much of the impact that his brute strength would have caused. The hold was hard and rough. Her breath hitched as she watched his face burn red with a fearsome rage.

"Don't call him that!" He shouted in her face. "Don't call him that!" he roared all the more. She never flinched. Thor's booming voice was enough to make the sky seem as though it was going to split but it didn't make her quiver. "Don't you dare call him that!" he ranted. His tone became softer. His tightly hold loosened. The clasp on her forearms became tender and he moved his strong hands up and down the smooth skin of her limb. It was that touch. That light and oh so desperate touch that made the mighty female warrior feel like a puddle. How she had longed to feel that caress from him. Of course she hadn't pictured it coming like this. She had pictured it one night when they had made camp and she'd been wounded. He's carefully changer her bandaged and them his rough and rugged fingertips would brush against her hardened calf muscle and… She was called from her own runaway thoughts as she her him suck in a sharp breath. He mashed his handsome lips together holding something in. He looked up at her. His eyes were an endless sapphire sea of turmoil. The warrior maiden shook her head pityingly and raised her war hardened palm to brush against his thick blonde beard and cheek. She had always loved him. She loved him for his might and strength and skill. She loved him for his bravery. Nothing scared him no foe or enemy was too great for him to face. There was no giant he couldn't slay. But in that moment when he was so broken and weak and so frail with anguish over Loki's fate she felt she loved him even more. She longed to wrap her arms around him and comfort him as if he was no more than a child. She wanted to tell him that it was alright that she was there, she'd always be there.

"Thor," her voice was delicate breath as she watched his face lean in closer to hers.

"If everyone calls him that…if everyone says that is all he is…what choice has he but to become that?" he asked seriously.

"He's a threat Thor, he's too dangerous to be around people now, can't you see that," her tone wasn't scolding or biting like it had been before. It was now sensitive and gentle. She almost didn't recognize the tenderness that escaped her throat.

"If it was your own brother?" Thor exclaimed furious shoving his finger in her face. "If it was Leif…would you want to see him locked away in some miserable dungeon for the rest of his days? Would you truly wish to never see him again…to never see him restored and normal…and…"

Sif raised her hand and wrapped it around his thick finger. She cleared her throat taking the loving tone away. "If Leif had done those monstrous things if he'd committed the vile deeds that Loki had…I'd finish him myself," she swore. The words came out hot a fresh. They were horrible things to say. She hardly knew if she meant them or not. Then in her heart she knew she did she would do anything to protect Asgard, to protect her King, to protect Thor.

Thor pulled away from her. His eyelids batted heavily over watering stormy sea eyes. She shook his head in disbelief, "You'd kill your own brother, Sif?" Thor asked hesitantly.

"I couldn't let him hurt you Thor," she implored him reaching out in earnest.

"There's good in him, Sif," Thor retorted, "There's still good…"

"No there isn't!" she declared with a shout that bounced off the gymnasiums high ceilings and gold walls. "No there isn't" she repeated softly with composure now, but she dropped her head as the words fell off her tongue. "There hasn't been in a long time!" she went on. "Maybe there never was," she finally confessed.

Thor pulled back away from her. His great hands detached from her skin as if she had burned him. He shook his head looking at her as if she cut him. He started to exit the chamber. He gathered his few weapons and marched passed her. He turned and looked sorrowfully. "Loki was a good brother Sif and a good friend."

She was ready for bed. She was angry with Thor for his foolishness. He was an idiot at times and it infuriated Sif to no end. It was his naïve tendencies that always had enabled Loki to trick and deceive him for all those years. And even now, even after Thor had witnessed firsthand all the horror Loki had inflicted on the innocent. He still defended him. He still thought that deep down inside Loki possessed the smidgen of humanity. He was like a shepherd boy who finds a wolf pup and thinks that he can raise the creature as a faithful dog. He takes the wild animal end and ignores the feral glint in its eyes. He dismisses the way the animal licks its chops as it watched the lambs frolic in the pasture. He disregarded how it howls at the moon, its savage instincts barely under control. He pretends a predator is mans' best friend. Then even after the vicious wolf takes the life of a few sheep, he merely scolds the wild animal and then releases the wolf amongst his flock once more, convinced that the savage beast was no more than a playful puppy. He just doesn't see that a wolf cannot be trusted. His blindness maddens her to know end. Still she knows she will defend him from his own good-natured heart.

The more Lady Sif thought about it the more livid she became. Why? Why? Why would he want him back after all the pain and suffering he'd caused? How could he defend his after how he had tried to kill him tried to destroy the peace after how he had just brutally attacked the innocent? He wasn't worth defending. Loki wasn't even worthy of being kept in a cell with in the palace strongholds if Sif had her say about it. He was a monster. Monsters didn't get pity… monsters didn't get sympathy or second chances, no one reasoned with a beast. Monsters were simply slain. That was what he deserved. Sif confirmed to herself as she slipped her body under the cool silk comforters of her royal bed. She was ready for bed and thought to rest well.

The female member of Prince Thor's war party gritted her teeth and clenched her fist tight at her sides as she rested under the plush burgundy and plum colored quilts. She twisted back and forth. She turned the right and the left search for a comfortable position. She tossed one pillow aside and reached for another. She picked different sizes and textures. She positioned them around her body at different angles, under her head behind her back, under her slim belly, but still she felt restless. Her eyes flung open only to gaze up at the dark. She never had any trouble sleeping before. She slept in this chamber just as much as she slept at the domicile within her father's household. What was the matter with her? She scooted from one edge of the bed to the next, trying to find a cool spot to no avail. The room somehow became stifling. Irritably she thrust the thick quilts off of her body. Sif curled her body up into a tight ball and slammed her eyelids close. She even resorted to counting sleep as the wee hours of the morning started to creep up on her. She lied there counting endlessly. The dark-haired maiden counted so high that she lost count. Finally, she flopped over on her back, breathless with frustration. She raked her calloused yet freshly polished fingers through her brunette hair as she let out a grunt as she felt unable to escape the feeling that started to encircle her. She tried to suppress it. Sif strained and fought with all her might, but despite her best efforts it stuck. She heard Thor's baritone voice mutter, "Loki was a good brother and good friend.

"No he wasn't!" she defiantly shouted into the darkness. "No he wasn't!" she protested aloud to no one save herself. "He was always a sneaky little weasel." She explained. "Lying and tricking, scamming and scheming. He always had a mean streak!" she told someone as if she was in a court of law. "And he was never my friend," she insisted. "He was horrible too me! Always insulting trying to make people feel small with his high and mighty intellect. Sometimes I wanted to rip out his little silver-tongued. Perhaps we could have been friends were he a mute," she reasoned her voice falling soft until her mouth was no longer moving and she merely was left with thoughts in the night

The Summer Solstice Cotillion was right around the corner and Sif hadn't attended one single dance lesson that her parents had arranged for her. The Cotillion was always one of the highlights of the summer. It was a rite of passage for young noblewomen. It was a night of glitz and glamour. A night for a young maiden to establish herself as a pursuable woman of court. They were to enter the age of courtship with a bang. Young Aesir girls were expected to festoon themselves in the most lavished of apparel, show charm and poise and refinement, play the blushing in coy damsel in hopes that some young son of a Viking lord or noble or even a farmers teenaged heir would ask them to dance. Sometimes father's would negotiate betrothals and make biddings on the bride price for those who would choose to court their lovely female children.

The very thought repulsed Sif to her core. Parading in some gown in order to have some Einherjar's son kiss her hand and make her curtsy. She thought not. She sought to court no young man. Well perhaps there was one. Only one who she could think of as so worthy, There was one who she longed to have his admiration and love. He was loved by all. Girls far fairer than she. Sif was 560 years old, making her roughly 15 by human years. She should have been well into the bloom of her adolescence, but alas she was a bit gawky for her age. She was bow legged and her limbs were muscular and taunt. She wasn't extremely curvy like some of the other young ladies were starting to become. She wasn't buxom, like Freya or Britta who all the young warriors fawned over. She didn't wear her hair in elaborate styles with braids and ornaments in her tresses a simple ponytails was all she needed. It was quick and easy. She never sought to paint her face. It was such a ridiculous notion. When one was in the heat of combat the paints would run off your face from sweat. Besides, to her it seemed like wearing a mask.

The thought of going to the dance lessons made her stomach turn. She told her parents she was going, but secretly she'd snuck off to the Temple of The Valkyrie. As a part of the summer games the Einherjar and Valkyrie would face each other in different competitions. She loved watching the proud female warriors train. It was sure to be a great match this season. She got lost in watching their sparring sessions. Time drifted away from her and she just forgot about those silly debutant dance lessons.

Students of the Royal Academy were expected to the most cultured and well educated young people Asgard had to offer. Naturally, the young maidens that meant that at the Cotillion they would be expected to be the most elegant of dancers. With that notion being firmly planted in the mind of the professors of the academy, the week before the Cotillion time was taken each day for the young ladies of the academy to practice their social graces in the form of dance. They were dismissed from the first half of their regularly scheduled scholastic studies in order that they may study dance with Mistress Melena. Mistress Melena was one of the richest and most renowned matchmakers in all the nine realms.

Sif was horrified as she and the other young ladies of the academy who were about her age marched through the crystal halls and made their way to the alabaster ballroom. She kept trying to push herself to the back of the giggling pack. Most of the other daughters of nobles were giddy. Having a whole morning off from studies to simply dance about was a dream come true for them, but it was a nightmare for Sif. She knew not how to dance. Soon the whole student body would see she had two left feet. She watched as the other maidens went up and displayed several formal dances. They made their moves perfectly. They were like graceful doves. Their delicate arms were like dainty wings flittering and fluttering with the rhythm of the orchestra. Their sandaled feet moved in time with the melody and they never missed a step. If only they would have been practicing for a formation in the heat of battle. If only these positions were posed for strike and kill then she would have bested them all.

Still, she had never been a cowardly sort. Boldly she joined a group of girls as they formed a circle to begin a routine for a classic waltz. The music began to play. The melody was slow and graceful. She tripped and stumbled over her own two feet. She felt like a clumsy ostrich as her limbs seemed to fly out of sync with the rest of the girls who were in her circle. Everyone twirled left and she twirled right. When everyone curtsied and dipped she was standing straight up. She was so terribly off beat that it was unbearable. She kept bumping her shoulders and hips with the other girls as she tried to master the movements to the more lively tunes. They were so fast she couldn't keep up her feet got tangled with another and she ended up tripping that poor girl. Who shrieked in horror that Sif caused her tunic to tear. The dance instructor had the girls practice as each other's partners for a little while when they did a playful polka, just so that they could get the feel for dancing with a partner and she couldn't get the steps right. She stepped on the toes of the other young ladies who she'd been partnered with in preparation for actually being partnered with a male the night of the Cotillion. She at one point was supposed to do some kind of dip, but she couldn't hold her balance bending back on one foot and so she ended up falling into the noblewoman in front of her and a domino effect spiraled at that point until all twenty young ladies in the studio had fallen flat on their faces.

The lesson ended. It had only been a few hours but the time she spent tripping and bumbling felt like an eternity. She gathered her belongings and quickly started to dash from the ballroom as the other young women stood around gossiping and casting glances at her before covering their mouths daintily with their hands. "Sif," Freya called. "You weren't that bad," She began and she came and wrapped a consoling arm around the slender girl's shoulders. Sif turned and looked at the young Viking girl to her side. Freya was pretty. She was pretty enough to catch Prince Thor's sapphire eye. After the Cotillion she'd be eligible to take on suitors and Sif could only hope that Thor wouldn't be beguiled by her alluring façade. She was long curly platinum blonde locks, sharp features and a flawless complexion her eyes were an entrancing blue. Her pouty lips formed an almost trust worthy smile. Beautiful faces didn't fool Sif though. Her eyes narrowed as she glared up at the girl. She was tempted to punch her in the face. Freya wouldn't be so charming if her narrow little nose were made crooked. "Honest," Freya added and flashed stunning smile at Sif. She knew Freya had a crush Prince Thor. Perhaps she thought if she'd cozy up to Sif, she would put in a good word with her for Thor and he'd ask her escort the night of the Cotillion. "I went to the circus just last week, I saw a bear dance and the brute was much worse than you," she laughed turning to the girls who were following behind. The group of teenagers broke out into a symphony of chuckled.

Sif was about to retort by flipping flighty Freya over her shoulder and landing the girl flat on her back but soon Freya wasn't the only one making sport of her inept dancing capabilities. Other girls joined in calling her and awkward goose. They jeered at her saying she'd be lucky if an old drunken swine hoarder asked her to dance with her lack of graces.

She fled. She fled the taunting laughter of the other young ladies. Normally at this hour of the day shed make her way to the mess hall to have lunch with Thor, Frandal, Hogun and Volstagg. The mess hall would simply be a swarm of torture by now. She needed somewhere to go. It came to her as she quickened her pace and hurried down the hallway to get away from the jeers and jests. The library in the East Wing. Nobody would look for her there.

The East Wing of the Academy was where the most scholarly of students studied. They had specialized classes in alchemy and physics and linguistics. The library in the East Wing was hardly ever used. Even the young scholars who took most of their classes in that sector of the school hardly ever used that library. It was more of a show piece for the academy. It was lovely little doom shaped room. It was compendium of ancient knowledge, but it wasn't a true place of study. It went unutilized unless one was instructed to go there for a research assignment or detention. It was remote and quiet. Sif doubted there was even a librarian on duty.

Sif opened the stained glass door. She looked around wide eyed as she stepped inside the old room. The cost seemed clear. She let out a sigh of relief. She tossed her belonging aside as hurried passed the mounds of books and scrolls and ran to the back of the room, there she lodged herself between the wedge that separated the shelves. She sat down and looked around anxiously. Just to make sure the coast was perfectly clear. Her eyes scanned the empty area for a long while before she pulled her knobby knees up to her chest. She pulled her face toward her knees and softly started to cry. The Cotillion was in less than a week. She could not show up and be unable to dance in front of all the nobles of the realm. There would be dignitaries from every province in Asgard. There would be royals from other realms looking to take brides amongst the Aesir nobility. Her father would be a disgrace. She couldn't bring such dishonor and shame upon her house. She could not show up. It was the high point of the summer. People would question it. Her mother would never allow her to not go without a due process, which would mean she'd have to give her parents a reason.

"Sif?" a cool voice inquire curiously of her. Reflexively, she lifted her head from her knees to look up at the voice addressing her. Her deep brown eyes still held pools of water as she quickly tried to wipe the tears that kept sliding down her face away. She took in the form before her. The emerald and gold tunics pressed and pristine, the well shined black boos that she could see her own reflection in. The person was slim, ebony-coifed with pointed features and piercing jade eyes.

"Loki!" she barked his name irritably, "What are you doing here?" she demanded.

"Nice to see you too," the young magician replied cheekily.

"What are you doing here!?" she yelled.

"Isn't it I who should be asking you that," the prince pointed out. "You most assuredly do not take classes in this part of the school. I'm surprised you even knew how to locate this library," his eye arched up.

"Did Thor send you to find me?" she inquired and the question almost held an air of happiness.

"No, I was looking for a particular scroll for a research assignment given to me…. Beside I come here often enough to know this is not usually one of your haunts,"

"Yeah, well get out!" she ordered as she picked up a book on the ground and chucked it at Odin's youngest.

"You can't kick me out of the library." Loki reminded her. "You can't banish me from any place…peasant," he spat angrily as he dodge the line of fire of the thick leather bounds she was hurling at him. He only missed them with a few teleporting spell. Finally Sif ran out of ammunition. "If anything I should make you leave," he responded actually chuckling at the thought of Sif trying to give him commands. She never showed him any respect as a prince of Asgard and there were times when he loathed her for the contempt she showed for him in front of their peers.

"How about I physically throw you out of here then, huh?" The Viking tomboy offered roughly. Her lips curling into a snarl like an angry hound. "Hmm?" she prodded further as she began to push herself up from her crouched position amidst the bookshelves. She stalked over toward Loki with her hand balled up in a tight fist. She drew her hand back ready to strike him in the eye. She had contained herself long enough. She thought that the dark haired prince would flinch if she got close enough to his smooth little face, but before she could land the first punch Loki quickly caught her hurling fist in his nimble hand. Sif growled noting that her attack had been blocked. Furiously, she raised the other hand. It was open palm and she was ready to slap him across the face. As her hand glided through the air Loki managed to catch her by the wrist ceasing the no doubt heavy handed slap from contacting his skin. "Let go of me!" Sif railed trying to pull herself free of his hold. She tugged and tugged and finally Loki released her and sent her sailing back into a cabinet full of manuscripts. She staged backward bumping into the cabinet and the loose-leaf papers flew all around. They fluttered in the still library like freshly fallen snow. Loki laughed a bit as he watched Sif pull herself up from the pile of parchments.

"Why are you in here Sif?' he asked somewhat seriously as he waved his hands and caused the room to return as to how it had been before Sif flew against the cabinet. He stooped down slightly and offered the dark-haired girl a hand.

"That's none of your concern!" Sif spat and slapped Loki's pale fingers out of her face. She got to her feet quite quickly on her own.

At first Odin's younger child pursed his lips with annoyance. Then he noted how flushed and red her cheeks were. Her nose was read too as well as her eyes. He smirked. "Why were you crying then?" he asked that sick little grin never leaving his thin lips.

Sif looked aghast. Her mouth dropped open and her hand immediately strayed to her flushed damp cheek. "I wasn't crying!" she shouted.

"Of course you weren't, raindrops must simply be falling on only you," he stated with a nod and started to walk away. He had a book in his hand that he opened up and continued to read.

Loki crossed to the other side of the room. He had moved pass the bookshelves and was going by the tables that held atlases of all the nine realms. He was practically out of sight before Sif called, 'Loki wait!"
In an instant, the young magician was back in front of her face. His gem-colored eyes were large as if taking her all in, an impish smile started tugging at his mouth. "Yes," he replied and arched his two black snakelike eyebrows.

The female student looked down, she fiddled with the hem of her tunic before smoothing it so that it rested flatly on her thighs and covered her black leggings. "It's…it's…It's about the Cotillion," she confessed with a deep breath. She could scarcely believe she was telling him. She sucked her lips back in after the words had staggered off her tongue. Why would she tell Loki? She couldn't stand Loki half the time. Still, she needed to tell someone. Loki's eyebrows shifted all though his facial features hardly altered. One jet black brow arched up even higher. While the other almost went flat. It was a quizzical stare. The look alone prompted her to say more. That was one of the things she didn't like about Loki at times. He was a liar, but somehow he could get truth out of people. It simply wasn't fair. "It's in only a few days," she began again. "I just… I just came from the rehearsal dance with all the other maids," she sputtered. Her breath catching as she replayed the scene. Her eyes dropped. "It was a disaster," she blurted out. "I can't get the steps down…even the most basic dances…I…I told my mother I had been going to the lessons she and my father signed me up for, but I had not been going. I went to the Valkyrie Temple," she went on shaking her head. "Now…now it's spreading around like wildfire how I dance like an ox in the mire. I will disgrace myself come the Cotillion," she erupted. Loki's face remained in the same position for a minute or so, then he tossed his head back and laughed. He laughed so hard he snorted. Sif's fist wasted no time in flying to meet his face as her other hand yanked him by his green collar and brought his face closer to her. "Breathe a word and I'll wring your scrawny neck!" she threatened. Her knuckles shoved under his pointy nose forcefully pushing the skin of the tip of his nose up.

Loki tried to stifle his laughter best he could. Sif finally relaxed her hand and loosened her grip on the prince silky threads. He did his best to control his laughter but a few giggles still bubbled up in his throat. Immediately, the female in his group of friends returned her tight clasp around his collar. Sif was strong and nearly lifted Loki off the ground. "It is rather laughable," Loki admitted pushing the young lady's short, bitten-nailed fingers from around his neck. He took a step back and straightened his attire. "You being so athletic and all," he went on as he massaged his nose, "But not being able to catch the rhythm of a simple beat," he shrugged.

"It's not so simple," she retorted testily. She crossed her arms over her chest and turned away from the emerald eyed prince. "I hate dancing," she grumbled.

"You only hate it because you do poorly at it," Loki told her.

"I hate it because it frivolous,"

"Ooh that was a big word," Loki teased.

"Shut up!" Sif barked.

"Dancing is an art, Sif," Loki expressed as he gestured his hands flamboyantly toward one of the beautiful pictures that aligned the walls of the room they were in. "The elves believe that skillful dancing equates to skill on the battlefield," the prince pointed out.

"What do Elves know of battle, they sit up and play their flutes throughout the forest all day and at the first sign of trouble the call upon warriors of Asgard to help defend their kingdoms." She insisted. "I don't even want to go," Sif finally stated.

"Because you can't dance?"

"I'm not going to become a mockery for Freya and her band of dolls," Sif explained in a small voice.

"I could teach you how to dance, Sif," Loki offered with a light heart and smile. Usually Loki was smirking or snickering behind someone's back. She had a tendency not to trust him when he smiled, but this smile. Was broad and earnest, happy and boyish…kind.

Sif's eyes narrowed, "You?" she scoffed. "You know how to dance?"

"I'm a prince of Asgard you think I know not how to function in a formal setting?"

Sif still wasn't convinced of Loki's sincerity, "I don't want to dance with you, Loki," she rebuffed the offer.

Loki's warm smile instantly collapsed into a sharp grimace, "And who said I wanted to dance with you," he snarled. "I was merely offering to help you save face," he explained. He turned sharply on his heels and started to leave . His fist clenched tight by his sides as he skulked away. Sif never showed him any respect. She always acted as if he repulsed her and it was truly starting to annoy him. It wasn't as if he found her company so enjoyable. He merely endured her presence for Thor's sake.

"And what do you want in return, hmm?" she asked condemningly as she chased behind. She beat him to the old stained glass door and stood in front of it, blocking his exit. " I know you're not simply offering out of the kindness of your heart, my prince" the dark-haired girl sneered. She jutted out her chin and pumped out her chest emphasizing a challenge.

Loki's brows slightly furrowed. He honestly hadn't wanted any payment for the service. It was just supposed to be an act of kindness between friends. Not that Sif ever showed him much kindness. Still he had never seen Sif so distraught before. He actually didn't like to see maidens cry. If one could even consider Sif a maiden. He shrugged. No he hadn't been trying to barter one service for another, but since she brought up the subject, he could bargain with her if that was what she wanted. A mischievous smirk appeared on Prince Loki's quirky young face. "If I teach you how to dance," He started slowly, he paced methodically back and forth across the marble floor with his boots making a calculating clicking sound. He tapped his slender and polished white fingertip across his smirking lips, "You have to lose to me in an arena competition week after next,"

"What?" Sif balked outraged that Loki would even suggest she concede a victory. Not in a thousand years would she willfully let any boy show her up in a display of warfare. Especially not a sneaky brat like Loki. "Never!" she hissed back.

"Fine," the raven-coifed trickster uttered calmly. He simply rolled his forest colored eyes at her refusal. "It's only the social event of our young lives," he expounded. "Only the day our mothers have been dreaming about since they held us in their arms," he continued. "I suggest you don't show up," he added. "Seeing you bumble around the dance floor certainly won't bring your family honor," he went on. "Still, if you don't come you'll have to tell your parents that you squandered the money on those very expensive private lessons," Loki confirmed. "Pity," he shook his head and placed his hand to his heart. 'Whatever will your mother think," he shrugged smirking ever so indirectly as he managed to push Sif from blocking the doorway. Sif's mind was flooded with the thought of his words and she scooted to the side absently her lips ajar as she pictured the disappointed faces of her parents.

Loki left the library. Leaving Sif with her back pressed against the door after she slammed it behind the skinny dark-haired prince. She gritted her teeth chiding herself for even giving credence to consider Loki's underhanded offer. The only way Loki could ever beat her or anyone for that matter was because of his magic. In a fair fight the little snake wouldn't have a chance against her prowess with a blade and everyone knew that. She weighed the cost. She knew that the free hour had nearly come to an end. Her lessons would be resuming in a matter of minutes. She slammed her fist against the wall angrily as she seethed. With a resolute deep breath she flung the stained glass windowed door open.

"Loki wait!" she hollered. Her voice echoed and reverberated off the walls in the isolated halls of the East Wing. She slapped her hand over her mouth quieting herself before she immerged from the abandoned library.

"You called?"" Loki asked slowly turning around, a devilish and winsome smile danced across his visage.

The practicing shield maiden marched forward angrily. She sulked as she came with in arm length of the prince clad in his green tunics. She puffed out air and fidgeted. "Alright," she breathed hesitantly.

"Alright what?" Loki prompted his smugness never failed to make her want to pop him.

"Alright if you can," she paused emphasizing the word, "teach me to dance in time for the cotillion, I'll do it." She stated quickly.

"You'll do what?" the dark-haired Asgardian prince questioned torturously.

"I'll do what you suggested in the library," Sif whispered testily in any moment the hallways would flood with the populace of the student body once more.

"I can't seem to recall, all that I said," he taunted her.

"You little worm!" she railed. "You know what…"

"I can't make an agreement unless the terms are fully laid out Lady Sif," he explained.

"Fine," Sif grumbled. "If you teach me how to dance…I'll …I'll….I will…L-l-let…you…w-win," she forced the words off her tongue.

Loki beamed devilishly, "Agreed," he replied and stuck out his pale hand. Sif reluctantly made the shake. "We will have to practice much," Loki pointed out. "We can meet at the palace at dawn each morning and after supper at night," he explained.

"Before dawn! At the palace? "

"Yes," Loki stated simply. "We can use the music room." He expressed as he examined his nails with boredom over such trivial details.

"Won't Thor be there?" Sif asked and Loki detected an unnecessary hint of nervousness in her tone.

"Yes I suppose, he only lives there," he replied sarcastically.

"Look, I don't want him to know!" Sif scolded and turned sharply and pointed her hand in Loki's face.

"What difference does it make," Loki shrugged. "Thor can be your dance partner… he's actually pretty good" Loki went on.

"No!" Sif nearly shouted. The raven haired prince quirked his features. Sif bit her lip before looking in to Loki's questioning green eyes. "I don't want anyone to know…especially not Thor," she added quickly.

"Why?"

"Because," Sif answered.

"Because?" Loki asked rolling his hand ushering an answer from the brazen young girl.
"I just don't!" the warrior girl barked. "Tell him and no deal."

"You can't do that," Loki warned her. "We already shook on it," he protested.

"I said," She growled as her left hand reached to grab Loki by his collar once more and her right hand drew back into a fist. "Tell him and no deal," she breathed threateningly into the son of Odin's face.

Loki brushed her hands aside. "Thor won't be up at that hour anyway," the green eyed prince explained. Thor and father usually spar after dinner…we can practice in the old chapel," the prince explained… "No one ever goes there."

Over the days Loki and Sif made good of their deal. Both young teenagers rose up from their beds in the wee hours of the morning to begin the sessions and returned to finish the lesson at the end of the night. The first day Loki conjured up some images to show Sif how the dance was supposed to look. She actually found she enjoyed watching Loki's little illusions dance. They seemed so graceful and poised and she found that there truly was beauty to dance as he had said. She attempted to copy after the figures, but her attempts proved futile. She twirled about wildly, she at one point spun out of control Loki watched with amusement and horror as she knocked into the pews and candelabras. He hopped up from his seat in an attempt to grab her, but it ended with her accidently smacking him across the face leaving a big red mark across his left eye. Suffice to say the session ended abruptly after that.

The next day Prince Loki tried a different approach. Perhaps the illusions were too advanced for Sif. It was obvious now that she needed very rudimentary tutoring. So Loki took to showing her the moves himself. He couldn't believe he was actually attempting to dance with Sif. " Sif let me lead!" Loki demanded as the Viking girl roughly pulled and yanked his body all across their makeshift dance floor. She stomped on his toe before actually stopping. Loki yelped and hopped on one foot.

"Why should you lead?" she asked her lip curled.

"The gentleman is supposed to lead," He explained still hopping up and down.

"Well you most certainly aren't that," She stated with disgust as she looked Loki up and down the way he was hopping in his green tunics he looked like frog.

"And you're no lady," Loki spat. "More like a bilgescnhipe heifer," he muttered under his breath. "But for the moment let's pretend you actually are one and follow courtly manners," Loki proposed bitterly. He finally got over the pain in his foot and returned to being Sif's partner. "Don't stomp on my feet," He warned her as he slid his hand around her waist.

"I'm trying to figure out where you're going," the Viking girl explained.

"Well stop looking at the floor," Loki chided her

"Watch your hands," Sif declared eyes his fingers as the slowly moved down her back.

"Sif this is the proper positioning for a tango, you'll have to dance in close proximity to your partner in order to have the right balance," Loki explained. He wrapped his bony fingers around her slender back and held to her. Loki inched closer to her and tightened his grip around her waist. Sif pulled back as he bridged the space between them. In a moment of panic Sif's bony knee landed its way to the young prince's groin.

The green eyed lads' eyes grew wide as he doubled over in pain. Sif jumped back and he staggered catching himself of a bench as the other hand instinctively went to the offended area. "Sif," He squeaked out as he shut his eyes. He fell to his knees. "What in Asgard did you do that for?" He asked breathlessly biting his lip as her curled up in a ball on the cobble stone steps of the chapel.

"I told you to watch your hands!" the feisty brunette protested.

"I was just trying to get you in the right position, gosh," he groaned. "Ugh, you're such a shrew!" he spat as he curled up a fought back a tear.

"I'm not a shrew! Just because I don't let boys touch all over me," she corrected him. "Goodness you don't have to be such a baby," she teased. She smiled and started to stoop down to offer him a hand up. Loki shook his head and slapped her palm away.

"Get out," he growled from the fetal position.

"Loki here, let me help you," the brunette warrior girl insisted trying to stifle her chuckles. She didn't know why she took such glee in humbling boys so. It was a naughty little pleasure she just couldn't seem to shirk from childhood.

"No…no…you've done enough…just… go," he breathed and shooed her away.

The following day Loki tried a new approach. There was no way he was risking life and limb again to tutor that miserable little wench in social graces. He painted feet across the floor for Sif to follow. He painted different foot prints showing the steps for the different dances. She finally managed to have some success. "I'm doing it! I'm doing it!" she called out with glee as she watched herself maneuver her body in graceful patterns. Loki gave an approving nod, but offered few words of praise.

"Again," he told her. So she did it again. And again. And again and then several more times. He kept her going at one point she refused and she watched as he wiggled his fingers about. All of a sudden her feet were no longer under her jurisdiction. They were under the influence of some incantation that forced them to obey Loki's commands. Her feet slid in and out of position. Loki watched as her upper body flopped along trying to catch up to her swiftly moving legs as he drove the spell harder and faster. Loki merely chuckled.

"Loki stop!" she protested furiously as her feet followed the steps without end. She let out groans of protest as she tried to fight but it was useless. "Loki you're dead when this spell breaks!" she hurled threats, but it didn't keep Loki from drilling her. She was forced to dance for hours. By the end Sif was sobbing. Her feet ached, her legs protested and burned. When Loki finally stopped his torment she could not even feel her legs. They were numb and sore all at once. They gave out beneath her.

"Sif!" Loki called out as he noticed the brunette warrior girl slowly starting to sink to the ground. He leapt from the chair where he had been watching with great amusement, he rushed toward her his slim arms held out as Sif crumbled into his skinny, but suddenly very sturdy seeming limbs.

'Loki Odinson, I hate you," the young warrior uttered tiredly as he held her up.

Loki sighed and slightly laughed, "You should thank me, now you will actually be able to remember the steps for the Cotillion," he informed her good naturedly. She slugged him clear across his face. Loki's head turned sharply to the side from the impact of her blow. She had blatantly punched him in his narrow jaw. He growled. Loki had a good mind to drop the weak kneed young woman onto the rough cobble stone floor. He thought to but then he looked down at her. Her knees limp and buckled unable to support her. Her body loose in his arms. Her head pressed against his emerald and gold vest as her mouth hung open. Best he could he carried her over to the resting couch. He gently pushed her limbs up so that they didn't dangle over the edge of the regal red day bed. She muttered something as he tried to position her comfortably. Her legs kicked and bucked a bit, now so used to unceasing movement. He whispered a gentle series of mysterious words and her dancing feet stilled. He slipped his cloak off and bundled her in it and she snuggled into the folds.

The night of the Summer Solstice Cotillion arrived and it was crowded as ever. The debutants decked themselves in all their finery. The Grand Ballroom of the academy glistened like a radiant new moon. The crystal floors sparkled like a star and the buffet tables were filled with a wide ray of assorted scrumptious goods for the feasting. Proud parents sat on the outskirts at the banquet tables watching with due interest as their young ladies and gents took on the manners of the court. Young girls from noble families that lived outside of the Imperial City of Asgard made their way to be introduced to the realms king, queen and princes. When formalities were finished with dinner was served. Slowly, once the dinner ended the sons of generals and court officials started to maneuver from their seats and began to ask young noble daughters to dance. One by one the young women were escorted away from the tables where their families sat and on to the floor to dance. There were always a few wallflowers. Sif was of their league. They stood by the wall waiting eagerly be asked to take a spin that night.

Sif refused to stand with the other maidens who seemed to be condemned to the wall. She went over to talk to her friends, Frandal, Hogun, and Volstagg…Thor. Thor had been at the center of the attention of most of the young women that evening. All the young ladies looked so lovely, their eyes painted and faces powdered, their hair flounced in bouffants, they were so eye catching. Frandal busied himself with the young women taking sometimes three or four out on the floor at one time. Volstagg chased a few beauties around aimlessly trying to get someone to dance with him. Hogun was most assuredly not interested in a romp around the room. And Thor, had his pick of the litter. He could dance with any woman in Asgard that he pleased. He danced with Freya, Liv, and Britta. He danced with Britta the most he never batted a golden eyelash in Sif's direction the whole night. She had thought…perhaps…he'd see her as more than just a chum on tonight, but no. Even in her elegant black gown and in her glistening silver. Even though her mother and aunts and sister in law had scrubbed and tubbed her like a baby and spritzed and sprayed her with perfumes and oils. Even with her hair made neat and sleek and her face painted up like a porcelain doll. Thor still didn't seem to notice her any more than usual.

The free dance time was coming to a close. The chamberlain rose up and gave a speech about what a grand cotillion it was tonight about how all the young ladies looked so lovely and the young gents looked so handsome. He said the single partner dances would begin. He begin to call the names of the young ladies to take center floor and usually within a few minutes a young man would come up and offer his hand to dance with the girl. Sif began to feel nervous she threw back glasses of punch as if she we were taking shots at a tavern. Her palms sweated. Would she have to stand before all with no one to dance with? Her mother and father would feel such shame.

"Why don't you ask Sif to dance Thor," Loki asked his brother now that young people had been separated by gender on to opposite sides of the room. He and Thor sat next to each other and Thor's lips were smudged with pink after an interlude with Freya on the terrace. Thor Looked drunk and giddy after the kiss he'd shared with the forward daughter of one of their father's advisors. He smirked and snickered with Fandral, the pair of them throwing punches at each other and counting how many they'd danced with that night.

"Huh? What?' the handsome blonde prince turned around and questioned his younger sibling.

The younger prince refrained from slapping his forehead with annoyance at the goofy grin plastered on Thor's face between his developing mustache and beard. "Sif, she hasn't danced all night, why don't you ask her," the raven haired boy pointed out.

"Really hasn't she?" Thor asked with some concern.

"She'll need a partner for the solo partner dance," Loki explained. He felt conflicted as the words flipped off his silver tongue being as though they were oxymoronic.

"Volstagg, dance with Sif!" Thor ordered looking over at his pudgy redheaded friend.

"What? I can't" Volstagg insisted. "My mother says I must dance with my cousin Great, her father fears no one else will," He explained.

"Frandal?" Thor looked over at the other pretty faced blonde Viking.

"Who me?" he pointed at himself. "Oh No!" he waved his hands in front of his face. "I have already promised delectable Ida, splendid Oletha and sweet Bridgita, I would escort them and there may be another fine young filly or two who may yet need a partner," He expressed. Frandal wet his thumb and slicked it over his golden eyebrow as he eyed the maidens giggling at him. They flirted with their eyes behind their dainty fans.

"Hogun?" The other three boys turned to the almond eyed young warrior and asked his position.

Hog cleared his throat and shook his head in one long stride. "I. Don't. Dance." He stated.

"Guess that leaves you brother," Loki nudged Thor's massive arms with his narrow elbow.

"I couldn't possibly," the bulky teenage prince explained.

"Why?" Loki asked almost indignantly. "You're always saying how Sif is your best friend," he reminded his brother.

"Exactly," Thor began.

"Exactly what?"

"That is exactly why I can't dance with her."
"Thor that makes no sense!" Loki protested.

"It makes absolute sense," Thor protested. Loki started boredly at his regally dressed brother. "It would feel like dancing with you," He laughed. "Yuck!" he declared and palmed Loki in the face, nearly knocking him out the seat. Loki was pensive for a moment. Someone had to dance he had worked too hard to actually teach her how to dance properly. It was a miracle that he had been able to do it. Transform a bilgeschnipe into a doe. No, his handiwork could not go unseen. He'd suffered in that teaching, his face had been slapped and his feet and been stomped his groin assaulted, no he'd endured too much agony in showing that girl what to do for it to just be for naught. Besides if Sif didn't dance with anyone she might not honor the compact that they'd made. He snapped from his musings as he heard the Chamberlain announce Sif's name to come and take the center of the ballroom.

Sif stood proudly as the lights turned to her. She stood on the polished marble floor by herself for 1 minute… then 5…the 7…soon 10. She felt water forming in the back of her eyes. She looked to her friends her best friends. Not one in the group even seemed to notice how she stood alone waiting for some young man to simply perform a simple tango with her. They were too busy chatting with ditsy maidens. She felt like fleeing. She was about to leave about to dash from the scene and never return. She looked at her mother. The noblewoman stood frantically biting her nails. Her father hung his head. She started to run, but soon a pale cold hand caught her. "Lady Sif, might I have this dance," a young silver tongued tone asked. She turned to see a raven haired boy kneeling before her.

"Loki?" she gasped and started to pull her hand away.

The youngest prince of the realm held her painted fingers type. "Might I have this dance, my lady?" he asked once more and he looked up at her and smiled. He didn't sneer or smirk. He smiled it was genuine and kind.

"I'd be honored, my prince," the shield maiden in training replied and as Loki rose she curtsied. The brisk tango music started to play and the two of them got information.

"Sif do not kick me or I swear I'll turn you into a frog," He warned her with a rough kind of playfulness as he pulled her body next to his and stretched her arm out long.

"As if you could," Sif responded back her tone just a jovial.

"Don't test me," Loki scolded.

"Just watch your hands," she reminded him and her brows knitted together. The music continued and as she was still forming words Loki started the dance pulling her always in a straight line. They twirled in and out. He twisted her and dipped her and Sif's once clumsy feet never missed a beat. At first she thought that maybe Loki was using some enchantment to keep her in rhythm. It wasn't until the end of the song as they had their smooth cheeks rubbed against each other that she heard the magic producing prince tell her that she looked nice that night. She froze at the compliment and caused them to falter at their steps for just a moment. Before she could respond she felt Loki spin her out. She spun out gracefully her plain black dress sweeping over the floor elegantly. Then he gave her hand a swift and light tug causing her to turn back in. She twirled into his arms and landed against his thin chest. She was a bit out of breath as he dipped her. She managed to throw her leg up effortlessly as she had seen the characters in Loki's illusion do. She missed him by a mile. The proud warrior girl nearly cried when she heard the cloud exclaim with hoots and whistles clapping wildly for them in a standing ovation. She thought she did feel a quick dab of water roll from her eye. "Thank you Loki," She uttered gracefully still having her back supported in his thin arm as they came from the dip pose. "For…for everything," she breathed. "You're a good friend," she confessed planting a kiss on his frigid cheek. Prince Loki's eye grew large, his mouth hung open. She smiled at him, probably one of the most demure smiles she'd ever given to anyone in her life. The young magician nodded, his posture relaxing as he pulled her back to standing up right. He beamed back at her and his smile was pleasant and friendly and warm. As the night continued she ended up dancing with several noble sons. She couldn't admit it to herself then, to this day she couldn't admit such things aloud, but it felt good not to be just one of the lads. It felt good to be seen as every other girl who attended the Cotillion. It felt good to be treated not as a warrior or a sparring partner, not a rival gladiator, but as a lady. That was all made possible because of Loki.

She shook herself from the dream almost with a start. She felt something wet and damp on her face. . Her left hand flung up and pressed against her cheek as she caught the singular tear that trickled from her brown pupils. She wiped the tear away sharply, it smeared her remaining eye paints being as though she hadn't bothered to wash her face before heading to bed. Immediately, the tough woman stifled a gasp that was ready to come from her mouth. She heard the handsome blonde's final words before they parted company that evening replay in her mind "Loki was a good brother and a good friend" Sif was furious. She was furious with herself because deep down inside she actually missed Loki. She had missed his smart mouthed commentary when they'd sparred in the arena. She had missed him being able to calm Thor down and talk some sense into him when he was getting out of hand. She had missed his silver-tongued getting them out of the jams they'd get themselves in during battle. She'd missed his illusions and spells coming in handy in the heat of a skirmish. She had shed tears for him when she'd thought he'd passed. She'd felt guilty. After the initial moment they'd encountered Loki sitting on the throne, she hadn't tried to talk with him. Perhaps if he wouldn't have felt so attacked perhaps he wouldn't have killed himself. She hadn't wanted him dead…He was the prince of the realm after all…He was her dearest friend's brother…. he was her friend too. She had to see him.

The shield maiden slipped the key into the latch-hole on the iron door. The door was 3 feet thick and almost impossible to budge. It was a work out pushing the iron against the slate and stone to get it to move. She panted after she managed to get the door to open just a crack or so wide enough for her to slip her body through.

Once behind the door the warrior maiden was immediately assaulted by the sweltering heat in the room. It was stifling so much show even she felt like she could barely breathe. Her eyes searched but she found no window. The room was void of ventilation. The air was musky, stale and thick with the smell of bile and refuse. She nearly gagged. The chamber was dark aside from the two torches that lined the entrance. She took one of them as she trudged through the dank cellar.

The brunette swordswoman had expected for Loki to be being contained right behind the door, but he wasn't she had to walk pass several empty holdings. This dungeon often known as the Pit of Despair was where some of Asgards most despicable creatures had been contained. She had brought a few of them to such a holding place. Some had been executed, but she knew that many were still a live serving their sentences meaning that they had simply been relocated to another facility so that Loki could be kept completely isolated.

Her boot sloshed through the wet floor. Until she came to the back of the dungeon. There she saw the monsters cage. A glowing green force field sealed him off from escape. She stepped closer the torch held high in her left hand while her right hand reached for her sword as she peered in. Chains dangled from the slime slick ceiling. Loki's arms were pulled above his head hanging from the shackles. The shackles were not the normal iron binds. They glowed with a faint blue light. They sizzled and cracked as they gave off electrical discharge. It made Loki's limply hanging body jump and made his dirty fingers twitch desperately. He was no longer wearing his princely attire. Now his was dressed in simple prison garbs. The tunic was gray and patchy, prisoners didn't get custom fitted clothing the tunic hung baggy on his thin form. His arms and chest were exposed being that he had on only one layer. The pants looked just as pitiful the were tattered and soiled

Lady Sif swallowed down the feeling of pity at looking at this wretched sight. "Loki," she spoke his name and it echoed and bounced off the wall for the place was completely void of all save them.

"Lady Sif," Loki's voice croaked in a chilly whisper. He didn't raise his head though. "What an unpleasant surprise," he sneered. He gave a humorless smile beneath his dripping locks. "Are you to be my tormentor today?" he asked the inquiry was almost jovial. The feisty female's deep colored eyes raised the torch a little higher and she got a look at Loki's pale, gaunt arms. She noted how burn marks and scabs lined his once unblemished flesh. She winced taking in how some of the injuries festered and oozed. She thought of the times when he'd healed her worse wounds after a particularly horrific battle. He'd run his smooth chilly fingers along her bleeding side and chant some secret words and her skin would once again come back together. More and more she realized the good that had once been in him. She regretted telling Thor it never existed. It seemed as though no one treated the Loki after he was no doubt beat and whipped and poked and prodded mercilessly. "Speak up Sif," Loki teased. "You never held your tongue before me in times past." He urged. "I must be quite a sight to leave such a hardened warrior as you speechless," he chuckled. "So sorry I didn't tidy up before you came, but I'm all tied up at the moment," he laughed and then coughed. She listened to his twisted laughter and hacking coughing. Finally he composed his fit. He rolled his eyes up and looked at her through his sloppy tangled hair. His head still hung low and he wriggled his shoulders in a half-hearted effort to get comfortable.

"Do they charge admission for curious eyes such as yours to come and stare at the creature?" he asked a devilish smirk playing on his lips underneath his jet black strands of hair. "Is there a sign?" he asked trying to wriggle his shoulders, but his movement was limited. He gasped as the electrical binds got tight on his thin wrist. The snapped and sizzled, Loki twitched and jolted. His fingers moved jerkily above his head. "Be warned…" he started out of breath. "Don't tap on this animal's cage, Sif, I bite," he warned her testily "Does my misery give you your money's worth or do you want more of a show for the cooper coin you greased the guards palm with?"

"No one would pay to see a monster like you," Sif snarled stepping closer.

"Then why are you here?" he asked once more. "No one is to see me. "You know this well. Naughty girl." He teased. "What will Odin say when faithful warrior Sif has disobeyed his strictest commands. I would so love to see you do three days' time in the stocks for defying your king as a sworn warrior of Asgard," he went on. "Course, it should come as no surprise. You defied me," he growled low in his throat. "Your king."

"You were never my king Loki, and you never will be."

"When I get out of here Sif I will see you choke upon those words," the prisoner explained.

"You are in no position to make threats."

"I don't threaten." Loki explained. "I promise," he whispered in a seething tone. "But you have not yet answered my question, Sif…why have you come, if not to make spectacle of me?" he inquired genuinely curious.

"Because I needed to see you," she retorted.

"You have seen," Loki answered back smugly, he panted as the electricity surged into his body. Like clockwork.

"And I have something to promise you…you heartless worm," she raged nearly pressing her face toward the shield.

"Do tell, dearie," the shackled man replied.

"Thor intercedes on your behalf to your father every day," she told him.

"And look where that has gotten me," Loki scoffed. "These fine accommodations," Loki attempted to stretch his arms out.

"You ungrateful snake!" Sif spat. "It is only Thor's insistence that has kept you alive all wanted you dead!" Sif yelled. "Thor thinks there is still good in you." She began collecting herself.

"Thor is a fool." Loki responded. His shoulders wriggled with a small chuckle. "But you are as foolish as he no doubt. For you have actually come to see if there is good left in me yourself have you not?" He asked knowingly.

"I had thought… I had hoped…maybe you…" Sif began taking a deep breath. "For a moment I had imagined Thor was right…perhaps you were not just some savage…perhaps there was some spark of the old you," She explained shaking her head. "Is there?"

"Look in my eyes and tell me what you see," Loki said as he raised his head for the first time since their conversation began. He lifted it slow. He rolled it back onto his shoulder managing to fling the nasty hairs from his face. His face was wet with perspiration from this hot prison. His eyes had deep black bags and circles under them. He looked haggard and warn, sickly and tired. He hadn't slept in several days. Sleep avoided him with the knew electro shackles that kept up his torture when the guards left. He knew not when it was day or night so he had no rhythming cycle to help him rest. His breathing was ragged and labored from the movement in the stifling cell. He lethargically rolled his silver tongue over his cracked, ashy lips moistening them for the first time in a while. His brittle lips felt rough on his tongue and he tasted the metallic flavor of the coagulated blood on them. He smiled more fully showing his straight teeth. His cell was a desert and he was parched. He smiled. It was a twisted, jaded nasty sneer, not like the mischievous little smirks and impish little grins that used to cut across his face as a boy. It was not the sweet, friendly smile he'd shared with her the night of the Cotillion when he's helped her so. It was a sinister beam and it made her skin crawl. His eyes were wild and furious. Nothing point poisoned green gems. Sif Bit her lips and turned away sharply from the horrific stare of the dragon who glared at her from behind the glassy shield

"You thought wrong," Loki hissed pulling against his restraints. "You and Odin's naïve boy, have both made great folly! I am no longer that weak playmate that you had in your childhood!" he declared with a violent cackle. "I am no longer Thor's dog or Odin's beast of burden," He snarled.

"And you are no prince of Asgard!" Sif explained slamming her fist on the magical shield.

"I am Asgards true king ," Loki breathed to her countering her ferocity with a smirk. "When I am free of this temporary abode… you will know that…you will say it to me every day and Thor…will kneel before me as my slave," Loki spat pulling violently against the chains that kept him in place. They didn't give slack rather feeling the movement they emitted their electric shock and Loki winced and writhed.

"I promise you if you somehow manage to escape this wretched place," she began strongly. Her tone was resolute and unflinching. "If you rise up against him…if you try to hurt him again. I'll do what you're your father and Thor won't do," she declared.

"What would that be?" he asked turning his head ever so slightly so that his ear faced her.

"I'll end your miserable life!" She whispered harshly back.

"Always the charmer Sif," Loki replied unfazed by her threat.

"I mourned for you Loki!" Sif stated her voice quivering as she stared him in his crazed emerald pupils. "I mourned your death. I even missed you. I missed your wicked sense of humor, I missed your tricks I missed, your silver tongue weaving stories that got us out of scrapes. I blamed myself thinking that perhaps if I would have tried to talk with you rather than just defying you wouldn't have died so. I did miss you," Sif stated sadly, he eyes stinging with tears as she remembered the green eyed prince who spun her around the ballroom for her first dance. She swallowed before glaringly looking into Loki's twisted emerald gaze. "But I promise you this…you shall never be missed again," she pledged before him. She would miss that boy who she teased and mocked. She would miss her mystical companion in battle, but she wouldn't miss this tyrannical monster that lied in the depths below the palace. If this was all he was now, he would not be missed at all. "I mean it Loki!" she shouted indignantly. "I won't let you hurt him. I will do what needs to be done and I won't think twice. "

"Oh, won't you? How brave. How noble. How virtuous. So when you save Thor from the snarling dragon, when you slay the beast think you that he'll come bounding to your arms? Imagine you that he shall run from the tower the villain has kept him and shower you with kisses? Shall he call you his hero and proclaim his one true love for all time? That is quite a tale. Tell me how shall it end? Think you that the two of you shall ride off into the sunset, that you will be his bride?" Loki demanded of her cruelly. "You know what he feels for you… the same he feels for me… he looks at you as his brother!" he spat. "He'd rather spend fifty years with some mortal wench! He'd rather love her when she is old and gray than have you young and vibrant for 1000 years!" Loki roared with laughter. He cackled wildly in his binds like a madman.

"You talk only to hear yourself prattle!" Sif shot. Sif started to turn on her heels to leave she had nothing left to say to Loki. She'd said her peace. She'd seen what she needed to. She knew what he was. It hurt. Her stomach was in knots as she started to flee the animal's cage. Her body felt tingly with goose bumps. She started to let a tear fall. One for Loki or the old Loki another for Thor and the love she had for him. The emotions swirled about and she went to let out a sob as she quickened her steps trying to reach the end of the hall that led away from the prison. She started to let out a sob, but what escaped was a ribbit. She looked down. She was no longer walking through the sludge of the cell. She was on all fours, stubby green legs poked out around her slimy belly.

Had she had the ability to scream it would have rang out through Asgard and then into Vanaheim. Had she been able to draw her sword she would have chopped Loki's legs from beneath. She hopped back toward the chained and sinister young magician with fury, croaking her protest and her swearing. Only to be met back by Loki's endless cackling, she flung out her sticky tongue allowing it to hit against the force field door in the only effort she knew how to break it down. She thought of strangling him with her sticky tongue. "I thought I'd help you out with that little fairytale romance of yours, lady Sif," Loki jeered. "I've always preferred more classic romance, where the prince rescues fair damsel," Loki explained a sick large smile playing on his thin face. "This is one of my favorites of folklore. Now only true love's kiss can break your spell." He instructed her. "Better go find dear Thor," he laughed wildly as Sif bounced away from him

Loki laughed for a long while to himself. Odin hadn't bested him of his magic. Two months later it was returning. Oh he would make great mischief for those who imprisoned him like a slave. He laughed only until he thought on Sif words. He had been missed. He thought that his death would be a slight thing. No one would care if he lived or died. He had been missed. Which meant that he was worth something in someone eyes? No one missed that which was worthless. He felt something kindle deep inside. It was something warm and squishy. It was vulnerable that it sickened him as he thought to extinguish the tiny glow of comfort in his heart. He pressed it down, but not before it made its way to prick his eyes and splash down in the form of a hot wet tear. "I missed you too," he confessed in to know one in that stifling hot, dark, lonely prison.