Despite the early hour, Sif had nearly fallen asleep several times. The heat had left her body and she'd relaxed until she began experiencing the strange, nonsensical images of her first dreams. She shook herself awake. Staying until the morning after her last visit had been imbecilic and careless, especially considering the interest some of her friends had taken in Loki's latest secret, and it had nearly resulted in the queen's discovery of her identity.
Loki's earnest request in the midst of that day's confrontation and challenge had convinced her to risk everything at the moment he showed only the slightest indication of sentimentality. She felt pulled by him and the way his eyes and voice had conveyed a need for her that seemed to go beyond her body, a sensation that was only worsened by the strange and pleasant morning afterward. However, it didn't escape her how easily she'd catered to his whims. She dared not leave herself so vulnerable for his sake again.
She sighed quietly, realizing how hypocritical her thoughts were, even to her own mind. She had once again landed at his window and in his bed without any hesitation or moment of doubt. Her skin had sought pleasure from his caress, her eyes from his cold smile and hungry stare, but the rest of her had been left behind yet again, her feelings and thoughts disregarded. A danger existed that she might find herself compromising for whatever scraps he would throw her of that sort. He had been a soothing treatment for the burns Thor had left on her heart, but even as they healed, she still fought her temptation to release herself into his attentive hands, and resisted her curiosity regarding what else the fallen prince might have to offer.
His breath suddenly slowed and she realized he had likely fallen to sleep himself. She turned gently onto her side, facing him and confirming her thought. His eyes were shut as he laid on his back, his brow furrowed tightly and his jaw visibly clenched. His body shook once and his breath hitched as the muscles in his chest flexed in the midst of what was likely an intense dream. She wondered what could unnerve him to such a degree. A small hint of sympathy followed; though he had certainly brought everything upon himself, he would yet reap serious consequences for his choices. She wondered if he wasn't experiencing some of this already within the darkness of his own mind.
She turned on her back again and sighed, pulling the blanket over her arms and shoulders to warm herself in the cold air that seemed to consistently fill his chambers. She debated on leaving even though midnight had not yet passed. He had only taken her once, a rarity considering his endless appetite, but even from the moment she'd arrived, he had been distant with her, distracted as though his mind was in another realm from her entirely, despite his body's presence next to hers.
While part of her considered her own suspicion of this change and what it might mean for his future plans, another part of her entertained a vain worry that he might have begun to grow bored with her. After centuries of cold, lingering glances and strange attempts at winning her attention, the prize had been won and the mystery solved. It shouldn't surprise her if his excitement had cooled, especially with the certain pending movements of his allies and their constant threat. If the Midgardian myths had any merit and truth, this fading fervency would also make sense. The mortal legends had placed him with many partners, the most beautiful of which had not been able to keep his mind from his mischief for long. She likely held no greater a chance to do the same.
These thoughts and questions began to take root in her mind as she laid there, along with the image of this "Sigyn" in the Midgardian book and the question of whether the "wife of Loki" really existed somewhere within the realm. In the haze of her fatigue, this mystery woman's image gently faded to Jane's face and figure within Sif's thoughts. She thought of Thor and his relationship with the mortal, and whether or not she had rebuilt her trust and friendship with him enough to ask of his future plans and the fate of Jane's presence there, but before she could find any sort of answer within herself, Sif fell unintentionally into a deep sleep.
If ever there was a shade of darkness so deep that it could hurt one's eyes, she was staring towards an unending expanse of it. Nothing but empty blackness surrounded her; she couldn't tell if her eyes were opened or closed, nor could she see the hand she thought she had raised directly in front of her. The air around her felt cold and thin. Oddly, she had no trouble breathing, yet it caused a dull ache to form in her head, as though what she'd taken into her lungs was barely nourishing enough to keep her conscious and alive.
She thought she'd commanded her legs to step forward, but her body refused to move. Her stomach turned in the midst of her disorientation. She felt neither the sensation of levitation, nor the security of solid ground beneath her. For a moment, she entertained the question of whether her spirit had ventured from her flesh and was headed to the afterlife, but she held no recollection of feeling the pain of death.
Just as fear began to rise in her chest regarding her circumstances, a light appeared in the distance. Dim and blue, it offered little illumination, but it did serve as a point on which to focus, thereby curing some of her discomfort. The light suddenly became brighter and she could begin to see other faint images around her, such as the face of a jagged, stone wall before her, metal steps leading up over the ridge, and in the background, the haunting view of a broken, lifeless planet floating above them. The weak light of stars followed, revealing more of the sky. She searched for a familiar body or constellation to ground her to this location, realizing that the dark, dead heavens over her were not of Asgard, nor of any realm she had ever before seen.
Her feet began to move, but it was accompanied by a discomforting recognition that it was not of her own volition. Finally, she felt level ground beneath her, though instead of firm rock, it held the soft sensation of fine dust. As her eyes briefly fell, she saw that the imprints left in the powder were not from her own boots. In fact, the feet below her were also not her own - unless she had suddenly grown. The rest of her senses returned and the subtle smell of leather reached her nose. The armor she wore was also not hers, though it was distinctly familiar. Reason began to return in the midst of her remaining confusion, but just as she started to understand her environment and situation, a voice interrupted her thoughts.
"He does not idly accept new allies, Asgardian." A horrible voice reminiscent of a gasp and a rattle sounded behind her. She turned to meet a strange being she had never before seen, but who seemed to recognize her. Although his cloak and hood masked his face in shadow, she could discern features that appeared deeply scarred or wrinkled on skin of ashen grey.
The figure stepped slowly around her, analyzing her carefully. Its strange, wire mask glistened in the low light, but she could still not see its eyes. "You might have lived longer if you hadn't sought his aid."
"It isn't his aid I seek, but his partnership in a joint venture," she spoke. If she'd had control, her mouth would've opened in shock of the deep, rich voice that had smoothly escaped her own chest.
"Do not purport to be his equal," the figure warned lowly, "or he will send you to the next life as his manner of decline."
She chuckled, the cold, sarcastic laugh of Loki leaving her lips, despite the sense of fear that filled her entire being. "I may not be his equal, but he will not deny the value of my offer. I bring knowledge that is priceless and unique - knowledge of a power beyond his or the Allfather's. I doubt he will be pleased to know a pawn may have compromised his access to such an asset. Take me to him, or I will look elsewhere."
The figure stepped closer and raised its hand before her, spreading its six digits to nearly the width of her face. The dull ache returned, but doubled in its intensity. Her mind began to fog as conscious thought was restrained, its psychic attack draining her instantly of her energy while simultaneously filling her with pain she had never before experienced. She wanted to double-over and relent, despite the great strength of will the warrior had built within herself over the years. Loki was much more stubborn and well-practiced in his art of deception. As the pain reached its pinnacle, beyond that which she could bear, he gasped lightly and flinched, showing no other reaction despite the chill of terror that had travelled down his spine.
"Don't patronize me with your vacant threats," it spoke. "Even the least of us should not be underestimated."
Loki chuckled again, catching his breath. "I see we have a lot to learn from each other. Perhaps you might teach me some of your methods, as I'm quite adept at magic myself." Loki bowed slightly as a sign of humility, but the being seemed to wisely recognize his insincerity. "Let your master hear me, so you might utilize such rare talent against a better target."
It paused momentarily as it seemed to weigh Loki's words with his apparent tenacity against its deep, strong attack on his mind. After a moment, it nodded slightly in acquiescence. With a movement of its wrist, the floating stairs shifted, leading to another route beyond the protective stone wall.
Loki followed the being slowly, regardless of Sif's opposing wish and her attempt to pull his body back. As they walked up the stairs and over the ridge, she could sense an oppressive, powerful energy drawing ever closer. They finally reached stairs that lead to its precipice; their ascension slowly revealed the large throne to Loki's eyes and the figure that sat upon it. The form turned towards them, but just as the blue light of the platform began to illuminate his features and reveal the face of their chief enemy and Loki's benefactor, the scene faded and she was violently wrenched back.
Sif awoke with a start, sitting up as she gasped for the rich air of Asgard she had missed within her vision. Sweat stiffened the hair on her face and neck, but she couldn't alleviate the severe chill from which she still suffered. The pain brought by the experience ebbed, but even as the sensation faded, she could remember how real it felt in the clarity of the strange dream. Irrational fear still gripped her, as though she expected the creature to emerge from the shadows of these Asgardian chambers. Only when she saw the sleeping form of Loki next to her did a subtle and ironic semblance of safety return as she began to recognize her surroundings.
He turned towards her, his brow furrowing in a sense of confusion at her sudden reaction. "What's wrong?" he asked, though his voice retained its normal apathetic tone.
Initially, she had no answer for him. Reason stated that it had been a simple nightmare, but there were distinct similarities in the sensations between this night's experience and what had happened during her shared dreams with him. Additionally, the images that still burned her mind went beyond the realm of her own imagination in both their nature and detail. The pieces slowly fell together. As vivid as the vision had been, it couldn't have been anything but a glimpse into the depths of Loki's own mind.
She breathed deeply, hoping it would calm her shaking hands and her pounding heart. "What was that?" she asked, unable to disguise the fear that still made her voice go ragged.
His eyes remained fixed on hers, his expressed confusion remaining. "What was what?" he asked defensively.
"The dream - the vision of the cloaked figure upon the moon of the dead planet - and the terrible power there."
As he looked up at her, his expression changed. His lips twitched downward in a brief moment before recovering to a slippery smirk. His eyes seemed to darken their shade of green as he readied some excuse that would appease her ears. "A nightmare?"
She knew him well enough by now to be able to tell when his mannerisms changed to disguise a lie. The simple question he'd asked caused her skin to rise; his demeanor had confirmed enough. "Do not feign such ignorance with me," she said sharply. "You…"
"Brave Sif," he interrupted her, his casual, dismissive voice causing her anger to double, "why have you allowed a mere vision to unsettle you? Lie down; if you're too anxious to sleep, I'm sure we'll find something to keep you occupied."
It wasn't as though she hadn't heard such a tone from his throat before, and neither was she ignorant to his flippant suggestions that served to convey his desire in a voice as close to playfulness as he could usually muster. Though such efforts might have worked with her on the previous day, when she was content with the idea of becoming more to him than a means to his ends, she had no taste for it now. She pulled the sheet up to her chest.
He frowned at her sudden modesty; it was the opposite reaction of what he'd been aiming towards. There was an unpleasantness present within the air between them, but he knew it would only increase if he admitted she was right. It would be better for both their purposes if she remained unaware of the truth of her accusations and the connection between them. "It was a dream," he insisted again.
Her hands tightened around her cover. His treacherous offer to the hidden enemy came back to her thoughts, his willingness to betray Asgard sent her blood flowing violently through her veins. "It was not of my own mind!" she suddenly shouted. She stood and grabbed her clothing from the floor, putting it back on as fast as possible.
He leaned up and rested on his elbow, raising an eyebrow in a patronizing manner that served only to fuel her already flaring temper. "Then whose mind was it from?" he asked with a condescending laugh.
In his careless attempt to calm her wrath, he had let slip his tell once again. His eyes faltered slightly, and though his flinch was barely perceptible to her eyes, she could infer the rest. Her brow knit tightly together. "How long has this connection been intact beyond my knowledge?" she asked lowly. "And how have you managed it without your power?"
"I haven't managed anything. I'm completely isolated from…"
"You're lying," she interjected firmly.
"And you're acting like a paranoid child," he suddenly snapped. He swallowed hard, realizing his abrupt reaction had confirmed her suspicions. Still, his tongue spun more lies. He sighed, rose from his bed, and stood next to her, his crooked smile returning to his lips as he rubbed her arms in a manner he thought would be reassuring. "This was all within your own mind," he said lightly. "You've never been able to see into my thoughts before, so why should you begin now?"
Her frown deepened further; his deception had failed. "The silhouette at the top of the hill was that of your benefactor's, wasn't it?" she asked though she knew he would not answer. "The being with six fingers - was he of the Chitauri? Do all of them own his psychic abilities?"
His eyes fell. A single, wry laugh escaped softly from his lips, but though his expression revealed the truth, his mouth remained quiet.
She felt her throat constrict and cursed the emotion that was steadily rising within her chest. He was trying to play a game with her, to keep her satiated and content, but she knew enough to read through his attempt clearly, or so she believed. The rare moments of purity between them, the odd transparency he had shown towards her, it was all gone. The brief fantasy she'd allowed herself to entertain was quickly falling apart.
"I have to go to Thor with thi…" she started.
He looked up at her sharply and grabbed her wrist. She grimaced at the harsh feeling of his long fingers wrapped tightly around her as though he was afraid to let her go. "Sif…" he said, his tone light, though his eyes pleaded with her for something he would not say.
She spun her wrist around in his grasp, easily freeing herself from his grip via the weak point of his thumb joint. "I am a fool," she started, "for thinking you had changed somehow. How many times have you seen into my mind without my knowledge? What other goal could you be chasing if not to take over my body?"
"Sif, I didn't…" he began adamantly. "It was only a dream."
"No, it..." She began her response, but the words halted in her mouth as her mind worked slowly through the vague puzzle before her. "It was a message, wasn't it?"
Her eyes narrowed dangerously, turning to sharp points as she locked her gaze with his. The warmth in their brown depths all but disappeared, leaving only ice within her searching stare. Despite their weeks together, the fact that he had memorized the flavor and feel of her body, and she had tasted and touched his to the peak of contentment, he was suddenly very unnerved. He felt exposed for the first time since he had been an adolescent, terribly self-conscience about his thin, long form when he was in her presence. He wished she hadn't witnessed the scene he'd relived in the vision, for undoubtedly, she now realized how pitiful he was when compared to his ally. Thor's assessment was right; Loki was a useful tool for their enemy now, but it was unlikely he would ever live to see the glory and reward he'd been promised once he'd completed the bidding of this mysterious power.
Though Sif's stare contained enough fierceness and confidence to cut through him, there was something within those hazel depths which she was trying very hard to hide - a shaky uncertainty that surely shamed her and weakened her proud, brave ego. He tentatively ran his hand along her arm and over the swell of her left breast, his scowl deepening when he felt her heart beating wildly within her chest. Her evident fear should have made him feel satisfied regarding the strength of his plans, but his satisfaction would not come. In truth, his ally terrified him just as much, and he had felt the icy chill of their hands reaching into his mind while he slept, signaling their approach. Her assumption had been correct - though the vision was a memory, he had no doubt that it was the first of many messages that would follow. They were close enough now to reach him.
The hairs on his arms and the back of his neck rose with this thought, but he tried to eliminate it from his mind. He slid his hand up to her neck, to her cheek, lightly caressing her jaw line with his fingers as his thumb brushed over her bottom lip. He found a small desire within himself to tell her everything she wanted to hear, including his fear of them, and how aware he was of how deep a hole he'd dug for himself. She would, perhaps, offer him some comfort. However, he was incapable of showing any such trust; even if he could, he knew she would only betray his revelation, as his own mother had done.
"The connection that remains - it is not of my will," he admitted.
Her expression soured. "End it."
"I haven't the power to. It's an aftereffect, but it will fade with time."
She scoffed and pulled his hand from her face. "I don't believe you."
"Would I have allowed you to see that if I could control it?"
She sighed as she realized the truth of his point. "What exactly did I witness?"
He crossed his arms defensively, and though he delayed his response, she knew, at least, that what he said next would be the truth. "It was a memory - and it will do you absolutely no use. Everything you saw is already known by Thor and Odin," he argued, foreseeing her next move.
True to his prediction, she turned towards the front door, seemingly lacking any care for the Einherjar or being discovered. "I'm sure there lies something within what I saw that will be useful…"
"If you told them what you saw, will you tell the where you were when it was witnessed? Would you reveal to them this conversation - and answer their inevitable questions regarding why you were interrogating me in the middle of the night within my own quarters and why the guards never saw you enter?" he asked, his voice adopting the slithering tone he often used when he played with people. "I'm certain you could easily think of a clever enough lie to explain yourself, but I know you now, Sif. You would slip - and you would reveal everything to them - for the sake of information they don't need. Is that really worth it?"
The blades within her eyes had vanished, but they were filled with something different, something that looked startlingly similar to pain and confusion. A part of him ached when he recognized it and he quietly muttered a curse at his own weakness.
"I would surrender everything if it allowed me to protect this realm," she answered carefully.
"...so willing to play the heroic martyr," he whispered bitterly.
"If it would be of any help at all, it is worth it."
He laughed. "Then make your sacrifice," he started, the sound of venom rising on his tongue. She braced for what was coming, but she could not have completely guarded herself against what he said next. "Do me one favor. When the inevitable happens and Thor discovers this sordid truth, ensure my presence there. Allow me to witness his face when he learns his beloved pet has rolled onto her back for another master."
Her fists clenched and her jaw tightened. "Do not forget yourself," she warned.
"Forget myself?" he asked with a soft laugh. "Is it not you who has so quickly forgotten what has happened here? I will take delight in knowing that it has been revealed to Thor - that his enemy and rival has been the one to lick the wounds of his once-betrothed, and that the woman he has loved and trusted with his life was so weak as to wilt under my fingertips night after night in thirst for my body simply because her feelings and pride were injured. This is no threat to me; you will only hurt yourself - and him."
As the poison from his words sunk in, her lips parted, shock over what he'd said travelled down the nerves from her neck to her feet, followed quickly by shame over having been stupid enough to ignore her instinct. The implication of what his words was clear enough, but it was also suddenly apparent to her how long he must have been regarding her in this manner. Regardless of the levity they had earlier shared, their rare moments of honesty, and the kind thoughtfulness he'd shown towards her in their lovemaking and with the simple provisions he'd given her for her comfort - she was nothing to him.
The wound he'd caused was deep, but despite its sting, her eyes remained dry and her posture, stable. There was a weighted silence between them for quite some time. Loki was completely aware of the words he'd spoken and of how she'd received them, and though he knew the pain they caused, his own pride and anger worked to convince him they were justified.
"I have been comfortable," she said calmly, her quiet, deep voice filling the vacuum of silence within the room. "I have put everything at risk, but have not regretted my actions here in some time because of the way you were able to make me feel. It confused me to no end - the contentment I felt with you despite my anger at your latest actions - but I am blinded by the heat of my blood and my vanity no longer. Thank you - for making this easier for me."
His expression hardened to steel as she'd spoken, but he said nothing in reply. Though the cold rage burned in his eyes, there was no clever retort. Even when she second guessed her decision and left through his window instead of his door, he held no gloat over her lack of courage and its contrast to her earlier threat. He simply let her leave.
He threw a nearby statuette at his wall in a moment of rage. As its broken pieces fell to the floor, his anger peaked. He had no idea how she had managed to see through his own dreams, although the Chitauri's approach and the "open door" he had created himself between their consciousnesses were probably to blame. Perhaps the intensity of his ally's connection also caused this reversed experience.
To make matters worse for him, he knew beyond a doubt that this was only the first ripple of the wave. His ally would soon be after him for not having delivered what he promised - and his one comfort in this miserable time of strife and fear was likely gone forever.
Daylight had not yet broken, but he found no reason for the attempt at sleep he knew would never come. His mind was busy, filled with the "what ifs," the choices he could have made and directions he could've taken that would've resulted in a different ending. There had not been very many moments in his life when he could honestly admit that he had failed, but there was no other assessment for what had happened. He'd left her with the promise they would see each other again, but in his heart, he knew their chance had slipped by.
His body was antsy with an unpleasant energy and so his empty bed and quiet chambers were harshly unwelcoming to him. The rest of the realm slept and he would find no comfort in company, so he went to find something he could do that would occupy his thoughts and temporarily free them from what he had left behind on Earth. As he looked from the windows of the palace in thought for what this activity might be, a distant light caught his eye. Despite his troubled heart, a chuckle and a sense of nostalgia rose within him. He strapped Mjolnir to his belt and walked to the stables just outside of the golden towers of the king.
The stablehands and guards looked on in awe as the prince and heir to the high throne of Odin worked hard through the early hours, scooping oats and sweeping dung until his boots were covered in the stench of horses. They had made their protests, as such menial tasks were not worth his energy, but he dismissed them. Though his great strength wouldn't even allow him to break a sweat in his effort, he welcomed the work and the temporary liberty it granted him from the troubles of his heart.
"I knew your father would be displeased with you for traveling to Earth without consent," said the queen. He looked up at his mother and smiled, predicting what she would next say. "But I did not expect him to punish you as he did when you were a child. It's been a long time since I've seen you cleaning the stables. Shall I inspect them as I used to after you've finished?"
Thor chuckled. "This is of my own choice, Mother."
"Then you are punishing yourself?" she asked in jest, though there was a note of wisdom and insight to her words.
He delayed his response, considering the truth she'd stumbled upon. "I couldn't sleep," he spoke, choosing not to address what she had implied. "What are you doing awake so early?"
"Early? It is nearly dawn, and you know I'm not a late sleeper," she said, "but I've been awake for a few hours. Your father woke me after he returned from speaking with you. I suppose my thoughts have been too busy to return to any sort of peaceful slumber."
"I'm familiar with the feeling," he said simply.
She smiled softly, her dry humor leaving her tone as her eyes met his in maternal, sympathetic warmth. "He didn't say much, nor do I believe he asked it of you. I'm here, if you wish for an ear free of judgment."
He leaned against the handle of the pitchfork he was holding, pausing his work as he considered her offer. "There isn't much to say," he started, "Father has granted me more freedom in this wager to use my own judgment. She will be back - when the time is better and our world is safer for her."
His lips curved upward, though hers fell. His words were empty and the dimming of his eyes attested to his own disbelief in them. "You have not the skill in deception Loki owns," she said quietly. She stepped over to him and despite the mud around his feet and the stench on his clothes, she wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him tightly.
He sighed and resigned to her embrace. "Perhaps my gamble was premature," he spoke, burying his nose into her hair. "I should not have rushed this as I did."
"You allowed your heart to make rule over your actions. Though I know your father will disagree, I hope this quality is one you keep," she said. "Careful thought and deliberation has an important place within the throne room of your fathers, but passion and love cannot be left aside at all times."
He nodded and pulled out of her arms. "Thank you, Mother - for the support you have always shown me. I'm sorry it's been in vain as of late."
"Not in vain," she corrected, "you are too strong to have yet abandoned hope."
He smiled at her motherly compliment and the light returned to his eyes. She could tell he was through talking to her, as there was a limit to what a grown man would share with his mother, and so she was content to leave him to his thoughts and self-imposed chores.
She wished him well and turned to leave, but the sound of a horse huffing through its nose caught her attention. Though this should've been an expected, ordinary sound within a stable, the restless beast caused her to pause. The horse was white with faint spots around its neck and backside. It was certainly not one of Sleipnir's offspring, nor any of the court horses under him, but it was too well-bred to be any of the Einherjar's steeds. This particular mare struck a certain familiarity in her mind. For some strange reason, the image of a shadow came to the surface of her memory, along with the familiar cut of a feminine chin and a single black tendril of hair against alabaster skin.
"Who is this horse's master?" she asked.
Thor looked up at her curiously. "The Lady Sif, I believe," he answered. "She often stables her here when she stays in the palace."
Frigga nodded, releasing a relieved breath. "I see, and she stayed here last night? I haven't seen her in some time." As soon as the weight left her shoulders she noticed a look of confusion cross Thor's features. "What is it?"
"Nothing, I'm sure," he started dismissively. "I was with Jane in the guest wing just this morning. Every other room has been vacant for a while and yet - that horse has been here all night. I wonder where she's been staying."
The weight returned to her and her expression sunk. There were not many pieces to this puzzle, but they all seemed to fall into place and fit well. "If you see her - send her to me. I'll be upstairs for the remainder of the day."
Thor's confusion grew. It was an odd request that seemed strangely out of context, and considering the timing and the events of the previous night, he had some reason to be concerned. "Is there something I need to know?"
She shook her head, placing a mask of normality over her worried expression. "No," she said casually, "it's an issue for a woman's ear."
He chortled wryly, but his mother's face remained stoic and so he didn't inquire further. "Yes Mother," he simply replied, feeling a bit like a clueless boy once again.
After she left, his urge to continue in the stables diminished and his weariness from his sleepless night began to weigh on his eyes. He didn't admit much to his mother, but her presence and warmth brought with it a simple comfort. He felt as though he could face the challenges that day would bring - after bathing and eating a good meal.
He finished the stall he was cleaning and then left, heading for his own chambers and a warm bath, but he was not a single stride from his door when he heard the approach of footsteps behind him. He turned to greet a distraught-looking warrior, who appeared as tired as he felt.
"Sif - your timing is good. My mother asked for your presence when you're able," he started. The sun had barely begun to rise at that point, but the light of the young day illuminated her pale skin and an expression on her face akin to nervousness. He grew suddenly anxious as well, for he couldn't recall ever seeing such a look on her normally confident features before. "What is it?" he asked in a quieter tone, his lips falling in worry. "What matter has brought you to my door at such an hour?"
He eyes fell away from him as she carefully considered her words. Loki was right; she would not do well in an attempt to lie, but she would risk everything if she were to say too much. "I needed to speak with you - about Loki," she answered hesitantly.
"You have an urgency I have not often seen on your face," he observed. "Perhaps whatever you have to tell me would be better said indoors."
She nodded, thankful for the short reprieve as she considered how to continue. She followed him inside, allowing him a moment to light his fireplace for a little warmth in his cool apartment. She took a deep breath when his eyes met hers again, expecting her to continue, though she knew not how. Her lips would not function and her tongue failed her. As his azure depths continued their fixed stare, she faltered even more.
"I believe his allies have been trying to reestablish contact with him," she finally stated.
His brow furrowed. "How?"
She took a deep breath. "He experienced a vision of them, a night terror more real than any mere dream or illusion I have witnessed."
His frown deepened. "Than any you've 'witnessed?' Sif..?" he said with a pause, unsure of how to complete his question.
"The connection he formed between my mind and his still exists," she said without hesitation, anticipating the rest of his question. "He tried to deny it, but the details I was privy to could not have been from my own imagination."
"You've already spoken with him?" he asked in further confusion.
"Yes. I…" She knew this was a conversation that needed to take place, but though she hated the words and their taste in her mouth, she wanted to get it over with and face her future bravely. "I was there with him when it happened."
His expression remained unchanged, and in moments that felt as hours did, she held her breath. He ran his fingers along his beard as he considered what she'd said. He did not speak, and for every second that passed, a knot formed in her stomach larger than one she'd ever felt before. "You've been guarding him still?" he asked. "You were given leave of that duty when his mask was removed."
"N-no…" she started, but as the well-intended truth formed on her lips, his eyes brightened towards her, momentarily supplanting the sadness that had been on his heart for days.
"I should have anticipated your persistence in this. I know you better than to think you would've ended your watch simply for the sake of convenience."
"Thor…" she began. Her words perished from her tongue as a small smile appeared on his lips. His admiration of what he believed was an act of her tenacity was evident enough to quash her brief desire for disclosure and truth. She didn't want to disappoint him.
"This is troublesome for your sake and do not think I've forgotten your struggle or his intrusion into your dreams," he began again, taking her hand. "I will order his mask replaced and his guard reinstated, but for the safety of your own mind, don't take these duties upon yourself."
"He was well below the surface of Asgard the first time he invaded my dreams; I doubt distancing myself will help," she answered. Her disappointment in herself doubled, as did the weight within her gut.
He chuckled lightly, oblivious to the pain that was coursing through her. "If you are so determined to commit to your duties, then there are more important priorities on which to focus," he said. She looked up in confusion. "My father bids your return to Jotunheim."
"For what purpose?" she asked in surprise. "We have no accommodations for them yet."
"In all honesty, I'm not certain any will be needed, but we have located a vacant moon that may serve as a temporary hold until a better space can be found," he answered. "We are also to provide them our answer and deny them Loki's extradition. It's beyond a doubt that the steward will be disappointed enough to rescind the offer to his people, but Odin has no patience left, nor do we have the time to continue this argument and distract ourselves from the greater threat at hand." Her brow furrowed in concern, surprising him as he had never heard a complaint or doubt from her mouth despite what was now revealed in her visage. "Does this trouble you?"
She wouldn't answer outright, but he knew this already. "No, but I - I have already overstayed my welcome there - and I fear more than the steward's impatience when I deliver this answer to him," she explained. "They will not agree."
Thor paused as he seemed to consider her argument. Sif rarely voiced her concern, often opting to rush to obey and honor the Allfather's or prince's orders, nearly to the fault of brashness and self-endangerment. For her to consider such risk meant that they had most likely shown more threat against her than what she had bothered to divulge in her debriefs to him and his father. "If this so concerns you, I will accompany you," he said, taking only a short time to deliberate with this sudden decision.
She looked at him incredulously, inspiring a chuckle from his throat. He'd rarely been the target of such an expression from her. "Odin would have my head if I allowed this," she said. "Your face is not one that will find welcome there; you would only put me at a greater risk."
Though her words were strong, her voice had a lightness to it; he laughed again, but recognized her legitimate doubt considering the way he had acted during the last time he had set foot there. "I will disguise myself," he said, "and I will swear to you only to wield Mjolnir at the point of unavoidable danger."
"No," she said with an emphatic shake to her head. "I have fared well thus far, and I shall keep myself out of harm's path during this excursion as well."
He lowered his gaze, the sadness she had before witnessed returning, mixed with an odd, solemn smile. "I would beg you the favor of allowing my company, then. I could use some space from Asgard's halls, and the challenge and hardship of this task would do my heart and mind good."
Her lips parted as the question she wanted to ask returned to the forefront of her thoughts. If he was so comfortable coming with her, perhaps it meant he no longer had a guest to entertain. Still, she would not ask it, but dared only the shadow of hope and sense of guilt that came with it. "If this is the true wish of my prince, then I am nothing to deny it."
He smiled. "Good; permit me some hours to prepare before we leave. In the meantime, I suggest you meet with my mother. She seemed adamant in her desire to see you."
"I mean no offense to my queen, but did she say what it was regarding?" she asked with some trepidation. His mother often enjoyed her company and the feeling was mutual, but she had never been summoned by her without context.
"No; my mother is more mysterious to me than my father at times and these random discussions often make me nervous for reasons I cannot explain," he said with a chuckle.
She returned his soft laugh, her heart lightening from where it had been only moments before at the sign of what was possibly the end to his experiment with the mortal and her presence there.
She thought nothing more of the queen's odd request for her company and lost her nervousness. However, the relief she felt at having not lied to her prince during her admission was interfering with her judgment in this. Sif should have been nervous, for though the queen normally held a gentle, loving disposition and understood matters of the heart, it was not this woman whom she would meet at her appointment.
Odin's Hall was empty when Sif entered, despite the fact that the day was well underway by the time she arrived. She surmised from the absence of guards that Odin was away from his throne, most likely attending a meeting of some sort. The stillness in the room was nevertheless strange to her, as the queen had been the one to summon her there, but Sif aired no complaint and sat patiently to await her return. Long, quiet moments passed and she had little to think of but her conversation with Thor. She knew the risk was high that his presence on Jotunheim would only incite anger and stir trouble, but for foolish reasons, she looked forward to it. It had been a long time since they were granted an opportunity to speak with each other without the presence of others, and longer still since she had been on an errand with him alone.
Just as a small smile of nostalgia began to form on her lips, one of the queen's personal attendants approached her. Frigga would not hold this particular discussion in such a public place and beckoned her to her chambers. Utter perplexity and the first vestige of uneasiness swept through her as she followed the handmaid to the private quarters of the Allfather and his wife.
The attendant led her through, but stopped at the threshold herself, closing the large, ornate doors behind Sif and leaving her alone in a place that felt strangely forbidden. She saw the queen standing on the balcony on the other side beyond the enormous bed in the center of the room, but it did not serve to rid her of her discomfort. For some reason, she felt as though she should not be there, as though it was disrespectful to be in a place so private for the queen and king. Still, she continued to the back, through the gate and to the balcony, wondering the entire time what it was on the queen's mind that would make her summon her to such a place.
"My Queen," Sif greeted formally with a bow, crossing her arm over her heart in a symbol of her allegiance. Frigga did not return her welcome with a smile, as she normally did. Her back remained turned to the warrior, her eyes fixed outward towards the view of the city and the blue ocean beyond it. Sif walked up beside her, her puzzlement evident on her features as Frigga kept her silence. "Your Highness," she started again, "I apologize for my late appearance, but there were some matters that could not wait. Thor told me you wished to speak with me, but he didn't reveal what it was you sought from me."
Finally, Frigga turned towards her, and though her eyes held no anger, neither did they offer her their normal warmth. "Lady Sif," she started quietly, "you have been one of Thor's most trusted and respected colleagues. You've earned the admiration and love of those below you and the respect and favor of those above. You are truly regarded as one of Asgard's treasures, and I feel within my right to say the Allfather and I had at one time hoped to gain the benefit of your strength and lineage within the blood of our grandchildren."
Sif couldn't keep the smile from her lips; a hint of blood appeared on her cheeks and her chest swelled with pride, but the wonderful rush the queen's compliments had given her did not last long. "Your High…"
"It grieves me to think your latest choices may not have been so deserving of such honor, Sif - despite the long years you've spent earning your station and privileges."
Sif's smile fell instantly at the bite of Frigga's words. Her mouth fell open, but her lungs faltered. The argument that had formed on her tongue was never voiced; in her heart, she already knew the source of the queen's harsh and bitter appraisal. She couldn't bear the weight of the stone that had suddenly fallen to the bottom of her stomach, and as her mind searched for a denial or excuse that would not come, her face betrayed the truth they both already knew. "I-I am not certain…"
Although the lie died before it was spoken, Frigga's gaze became harsh against the warrior. "Did you think I could not tell? That as a woman, a lover, and a mother, I would remain blind to the evidence?" she asked sharply. "What do you have to say in your defense? Tell me, I beg of you, that this was some sort of misunderstanding - that it was some other woman I saw hiding behind Loki's door."
She opened her mouth again, blinking past the water that was quickly filling her eyes. She looked down, unable to meet the judgmental stare of the queen. "I have no defense," she spoke, "for it was me in his quarters that morning, and the circumstances speak for themselves regarding my guilt."
"How long?"
Sif hesitated, but answered, unwilling to lie and worsen the queen's wrath, "since the night Thor returned from Midgard with the mortal Jane Foster."
Frigga scoffed in surprise. She had honestly not expected an answer involving so much time. "And what are your feelings towards him?"
The question shouldn't have caught her off guard, but it did. She fought for an answer - and despite the fact that her response should've been easy, she found the words difficult to formulate. "He has committed treason of the highest regard and has sold his fealty to the highest bidder. I could never feel anything for him beyond confusion and disdain. Our relationship," she said, pausing in reaction to how strange her words sounded to her own ears, "has only ever been physical."
She thought her answer would bring the queen comfort and reassurance of her loyalty, but as she spoke, Frigga's disposition hardened even further, a heavy frown setting itself upon her lips that looked strange on her normally gentle visage. Sif had always respected her, but had not feared Frigga since she was a child - when she often found herself in trouble with the royal family for following Thor along on his foolish adventures. She took a reflexive step back, and suddenly wished she was beyond her sight.
"Do I really deserve such ire, My Queen?" she dared to ask. "That morning, you'd expressed hope and happiness at the thought that he had found a brief oasis in someone - and for my part, I have provided him no aid during this time that I did not disclose to Thor. I have only ever gone to him for release; in this basic simplicity, what betrayal have I committed with my actions?"
Sif already knew the answer as she spoke the question, as she had acknowledged it on her first nights with him. Loki was Thor's rival and the Betrayer of Asgard, but he was also his brother. As a queen, Frigga would be angry that the warrior would so easily set aside common sense and loyalty for a man who held secrets that could put every branch of Yggdrasil at risk. For the most part, this would be justified. The true dagger in her heart, however, would originate from her role as a mother. Sif was still important to Thor; their roots ran wide and deep throughout the years they had known each other. Because of their history and their current friendship, Sif and Frigga both knew how Thor would feel if he were to learn of this trespass. Although Sif had justified it to herself via the excuse of his focus on Earth, Frigga would not see it that way. In a manner of speaking, this made Sif a larger threat than Loki - for this would hurt him deeply, and he would never expect it from her.
"You have played his heart," the queen answered tersely, "and you've shown no level of care for his previous feelings for you or your history. What am I to think of a woman who would dismiss my son in such a manner?"
Justifiable frustration tightened her chest. Defensiveness rose after, but she kept her anger and unpleasant thoughts in check. "Thor has been too preoccupied by Midgard to even see…"
"It isn't Thor I speak of," Frigga argued, a hint of pain constraining her voice on her son's behalf, "it is Loki who will bear the consequences of your choices when you have finished with him. I was hopeful when I learned he found companionship, but I would rather him be alone than with a woman who would show him none of the help he needs. When he loses you, I fear it will only push him further from Asgard - and that would be unfortunate for us all."
Sif's eyes widened in surprise of the queen's plea. She knew her motherly love for him ran deep enough to veil the atrocities he'd committed from her sight, but Sif hadn't expected her to take such a stance. Her lips formed a hard line as she tried to disguise her true reaction. "You don't understand - he feels nothing for me," she said quietly. "Losing me will prove only to affect him as much as the loss of some minor convenience."
"Then you don't know him," she argued firmly, "or you are blind to what is as plain as the sun to my eyes."
"You are blind," she snapped. For a moment, she forgot who she was speaking with and she lowered her head and eyes immediately in apology. "My Queen - he sees me as nothing but a pleasant distraction and a trophy - something he's sought to win due to his rivalry with Thor."
"How can you be so certain?" she asked sharply. "He pined after you as a boy, long before these evil ambitions set themselves within his heart. Do you not see the faint hope for light that has appeared in his eyes since he has won you? I see the boy I loved hiding within him now, and I can only credit you, as no one else has done anything to ease his return - and his ties to me continue to dwindle."
"You have only seen him twice since his imprisonment and your hyperbolic…" Sif interrupted herself before she could dispense any further insult. She swallowed hard, searching for words that would not offend her, but could be poised in a way that would help her see the futility of her wishful thinking. "I know what it is you hope for," she started in a softer, more careful manner. "For a brief moment, I was swept away - and found a similar desire within my own heart. My Queen, your son, as he was, is lost - and what hope exists for his redemption vanishes more and more each day, regardless of my presence. There is no action on my part that can bring him salvation."
Frigga's frown deepened, yet her brow softened simultaneously, as though her anger had ebbed only to be replaced with disappointment. "If you believe you are so uncared for, then you should be content to end it now," she said firmly. "I believe there are higher stakes than what you recognize and it would be wise to take yourself from him - before his wound worsens and your carelessness drives him further from us."
Sif's thought drifted back to the argument they'd had in his quarters that morning and the sharp words he'd wielded against her. "It's already over," she responded in nearly a whisper.
The queen's expression softened slightly, for she did not miss the expression of sadness that crossed Sif's features when she said this - though it seemed the warrior had not noticed the change for herself. "Good," Frigga said, "this eases my heart."
The queen couldn't completely disguise the regret in her voice that contradicted these words. Sif wondered how fairly she was being judged in this situation and whether the queen had been holding unspoken expectations in her to soften a permanently hardened heart that stubbornly refused to be changed. The normal fears regarding her position and status that had been within her mind since this venture began were reawakened, but now they were mixed with the question of whether or not she would be judged more harshly for what the queen saw as a failure to change his mind than she would for coupling with a traitor in the first place.
"Your Highness," she began after a long period of weighted silence had stretched between them. "Will you inform the Allfather of this?"
Frigga took a deep, contemplative breath. "I have tried and failed, on occasion, to lie to my husband," she began. "If there has been any irreparable harm done by this, I will not be able to hide it. However, if not - and this foolishness is truly over - I supposed there would be nothing to gain from it."
Sif breathed a quiet sigh of relief.
"Don't misunderstand me," Frigga said, hearing her exhale. "I do so not to save your dignity. I know my husband enough to know how hot his anger still burns toward Loki; he would strip you of everything you've worked for as punishment for this, regardless of your intentions. His knowledge of your affair would only make things worse for both you and Loki," she explained. "Sif, I promised you my favor on the night the Midgardian arrived. Consider my silence the expense of it."
"I - I understand," she said, biting her lip before cautiously asking more. "What of Thor?"
Frigga grew silent again and the tension that had been temporarily released from Sif's shoulders returned. "I was hoping not to delve this deeply into the matter for your sake, but since you ask this favor of me, I no longer feel the need for discretion. Before I answer, tell me why," she softly demanded.
"My Queen?"
"Tell me what it was that caused a loyal servant of Asgard to bed its betrayer. Tell me what could make a woman who loves Thor as much as you do desire intimacy from his enemy. I thought I could grow to understand through this conversation, but even in my perspective as a woman, I cannot begin to surmise what your motivations were."
Sif crossed her arms guardedly. She thought carefully of her response, what words would save her dignity and which ones would make her look more like an innocent party who merely got in too deeply with the wrong person. Instead, the truth slipped, spilling from her heart before she could censor her words. "He wanted me," she answered. "I've known of his appreciation for my beauty for as long as he's felt it. Though he despises my loyalty to Odin and my love for Thor, it has not yet cooled his desire for me. The moment Thor slipped from my fingers for the sake of a mortal I - I defaulted to my vanity - and sought to validate myself through the eyes of one who would gladly feed into that weakness."
A semblance of her warmth and softness returned to the queen's features. "I see," she answered quietly. "Now it has become clearer to me."
Tears lined Sif's eyes, threatening to spill over her cheeks, regardless of how hard she fought them. "I am sorry, Your Highness, if I have caused harm to anyone - even him," she said, struggling through her strained voice. "I've been acting like a foolish child."
"Not unlike how he's behaved since his return. Perhaps within this mutual pride lies the crux of your attraction," she said, a slight smile returning to her lips. Despite her concern with the feeling of both of her sons, the sincerity of Sif's words had struck her heart. "I will not tell Thor unless it becomes unavoidable or poses a yet unforeseeable threat. Take care to hide this truth though - or it may reveal itself in time regardless of my sealed lips."
Sif bowed, "Thank you, My Gracious Queen."
"It may be better to hold your gratitude until this has blown over," Frigga started. "If I find that your actions have caused one or both of my sons more harm, my love for them will supersede any promise to you."
Sif nodded. "Yes, My Queen."