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Shield
"I do not understand." Sif banged Steve's weapon with her fist. "You hold a shield, and yet you wield no sword. What use is that? I could dispatch you with one thrust!"
"Begging your pardon, but I would like to see you try." Steve nodded at her with respect, but his lips were firm with grim purpose.
A sparkle appeared in her eyes. "Very well! At last – I was completely bored of maps and plans."
On the field they sparred for an hour before Sif declared, "But this is all defense on your part! How would you attack me?"
"Actually, I wouldn't attack you at all. Others, however…" Steve's gaze never left her face as he flung his shield at the nearby Volstagg, who managed to save himself at the last minute by casting his vast body on the ground while the disc whistled overhead.
Sif put her hands on her hips and indulged in a long bout of hearty laughter. "Not bad at all!" She touched the shield after Steve caught it. "What is this made of?"
"Adamantium, Vibranium, and I don't know the other component. No one does. It's been remade several times, but I always go back to the original casting - it just works best for me."
"Hm." Sif nudged his shoulder with hers. "What say you to a jug of mead in the tavern with me and the Warriors?"
"I don't drink, ma'am."
She snorted. "Of course not. Come on, perhaps they have milk there as well. And by the roots of Yggdrasil, call me Sif."