Sifki Week, Day 4- Sleeping Habits
In which Loki learns Sif is a blanket hog and has little tolerance for cold.
There are many things Loki knew about Sif. She was a great warrior, the first to join a battle and the last to leave. She was a good teacher, whom he reluctantly had to give most of the credit for his skills with a dagger. She could hold her mead better than Fandral, which was always amusing. She could look like a fierce warrior one moment and the next put any other lady of the court to shame with her beauty and grace. She also had developed a habit of losing track of time pouring over battle histories in the royal library, to the point of having to be dragged away from them for meals, much to the amusement of Loki, who still remembered her teasing him for a similar practice with his spell books. Loki knew all of these things. But never before had he known that Lady Sif hogged the covers.
It was a particularly cold night on Vanaheim when he discovered this new thing about Sif; everyone had placed their bedrolls close to the fire for warmth, forming a circle around the flames. Exhaustion overtook them, the long day spent hunting through the forest catching up with them. Loki found himself between Thor and Sif, with the Warriors Three on either side of them, listening to Volstagg's snores echo through the small clearing they were camped in.
He rolled his eyes as he heard his brother's snores join Volstagg's, the two creating a symphony of deafening wheezes. Loki rolled over, inching his bedroll away from his brother, trying to escape the disruptive noise. Eventually he felt himself drift off despite the discommodious surroundings.
It was still very much dark when Loki woke, feeling significantly colder than he usually did. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and glanced around. The fire was still going, so he could not have been asleep for very long, unless someone else had woken before him to tend to it. Loki looked down and noticed the reason for his chill, and probably the reason he had been awakened: his covers were gone.
He looked first to Thor, wondering if his elder brother was playing some sort of prank, but the Thunderer was oblivious to the world, sprawled out, limbs askew as he continued to snore. Loki idly thought that he was glad he had moved away from his brother earlier, as he was pretty sure Thor's foot was now where Loki's head had been. But if Thor did not steal his blankets, then who?
The young prince was about to get up to investigate his three companions on the other side of the fire when movement at his side caught his attention. Looking down, Loki found Sif, who was currently curling closer to him, wrapped up in more than her fair share of blankets. Yes, there was his dark green covering, wrapped around the female warrior, as if it were her own.
Loki scowled and reached out to pull it back, the chill in the air beginning to seep into his bones. Unfortunately for him, however, Sif had managed to wrap herself completely in his blanket, and Loki could find no end of it in sight. Grumbling to himself, he tried to gently roll her over, then not so gently when that failed to budge her.
He was near yelling when his efforts yielded a soft groan from the sleeping woman, finally rousing her somewhat from her sleep.
"Mmph, what is it?" she murmured, still mostly asleep, face buried in the stolen blankets.
Loki gave a snort, "You have stolen my blanket, Sif, I would like it back."
"No," came the muffled reply, much to Loki's consternation. "Cold, need it…" she mumbled before seeming to fall back asleep.
"Of all the-" Loki muttered to himself, trying to calm down before he woke the whole camp up with his yelling, taking a deep breath. "I am well aware of the temperature, Sif, which is why I would also like some covers!" he hissed, waving his arms in annoyance even though no one could see.
The lump in the pile of blankets groaned, indicating she was still somewhat awake. Sif mumbled something incoherent and then raised her arm up, lifting the covers.
Loki looked at her curiously for a moment before he reached out and tried to pull his blanket back, only to have her rip it out of his grasp and murmur an annoyed "no!"
Loki sighed, "Sif, I do not understand, what-"
"Get in you moron!" she whisper-yelled, holding the blankets up again while she glared at him.
The prince hesitated a moment more before he slowly moved under the blankets, waiting for some sort of trick. But Sif was not him, she was not the God of Mischief, so once he was under the covers sufficiently, she dropped them and curled up against him, causing Loki to stiffen against her in surprise.
Sif only chuckled, wiggling until she found a position she was comfortable with, an arm draped across his chest. Loki slowly relaxed, laying his hands down on his chest on top of her own, causing her to hiss at the shock of the cold, slapping his hands away. He grinned and turned his head so he could look at her, head buried against his shoulder. "Why… why?" he tried, unable to complete the sentence, unsure what to say.
Sif understood however, smiling against his arm. "I told you: cold," she muttered, glancing up at him for a brief moment before closing her eyes again. "Now go to sleep before I kick you out," she threatened, causing him to chuckle as he too closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth of sharing a bedroll with Sif.