The Monster

by ManiacallyLoveable

His thoughts were still a mystery to her; she guarded herself for the possibility that his sincerity and passion towards her was limited to the flesh and that he could throw her to the wolves in a moment if he thought it to be to his advantage. Even then, he provided her with a cure she so desperately sought; treatment she could get from no other.

17. Lùka

Well beneath the bright star and colorful skies of Asgard, under the tall, shining towers of its palace and the stone floors of the Great Hall, and within the bowels of its warm core, rested the Vault of Odin. Most private citizens didn't know of its existence. Those who did were a trusted, rare few. Those who had seen the inside held little understanding of what it truly housed. Relics from Asgard's triumphs within the branches of Yggdrasil lined the walls, but these were not aesthetic trifles or simple trophies. These artifacts had power, and were capable of magics that the Allfather believed would be a dangerous in any hands but his own. It was for this reason that these objects were stored so deeply below the surface that only a small garrison of guards were needed at any given time. If an invading force knew their way, it would take an hour for them to make it down to the doors from the front gates of the palace, assuming the warriors of Asgard would grant them the time before they fought them back.

The defenses surrounding Odin's vault had been adequate for an entire age. Even when Jotunheim had managed to penetrate its guard with the aid of his fallen son, he made no effort to improve its structure. It wasn't until the newest addition had been placed there that further care was expended. A smaller room had been built within the vault, constructed with solid materials and supported with Odin's own power. The Jewel of Yggdrasil had been returned, and would be kept in Asgard's heart until their nameless threat had passed.

Two Einherjar entered the main room on their patrol. It was quiet within the depths, but they dutifully traversed the length of the room regardless of the peace, examining each corner carefully for any sign of intrusion or weakness. They stopped in front of the newer addition, looking through the solitary, small window. The cube was dormant, its gentle, steady glow dull and relatively lifeless compared to the bright heat of its full power. Satisfied, the sentries resumed their posts at the outside of the vault, closing the large, metal doors behind them with a resounding clang.

A thin, seemingly insignificant tendril of energy crackled from the cube. The hum coming from within became louder and higher pitched as more wisps escaped and crackled in the air around it.

Sif had fallen to sleep in front of the healing room's fire. The relief of warmth and her mended arm had lulled her to an unusual slumber, but her mind forbade her rest. As soon as she had closed her eyes, a large hand had emerged from the blackness of her subconscious, dragging her through light years of empty space against her adamant resistance. The barren wastes of a dead moon greeted her, and despite her confused and unfocused thoughts, she knew she'd been there before.

Her beliefs were confirmed when she looked down to see hands that were not hers. The ground seemed much further underneath her feet and the faint smell of leather filled her senses. The mystery of the situation was gone, for she knew this time what was happening, but still, there remained a shadow of terror, a sensation that was not originating from her own heart.

Unlike the last occurrence, the observations she made were disjointed and choppy. One moment, she felt fine dust beneath her feet, and the next, hard rock. The masked, hooded Chitauri underling flashed before her, but there was no discussion or threat as there was before, only the unintelligible murmurs and whispers that sounded in his scratchy, hissing voice. She tried to utter something in her disorientation, forgetting that her throat was not hers and would not work, regardless of her intentions. She was at the mercy of Loki's control.

The light grew brighter within its core, its energy soared and bathed the inner vault in a hot, white light. Its steady hum became a loud whine, its volume increasing steadily with every second that passed.

Though she didn't remember climbing them, she was at the top of the black stairs, at the precipice of a familiar ridge. The enormous "throne" she'd seen before was to her right, but the figure that had been sitting there was not visible. The dark seemed to shroud her sight. The blue lights of the platform and the view of the dead planet around which their moon revolved were the only elements of her surroundings she could see.

There was something suddenly unsettling about where she stood. She could sense him before she saw him, or rather, Loki could sense him. Loki knew the sensation of his presence well, for even he felt the chill of his icy grip when he was near.

"Odinson," he began in a horrible, deep, unnaturally loud voice. Loki remained stoic in posture and expression, but his head began pounding with an indescribable headache. She wanted desperately to hold her ears, but he would not move. "We will act soon," he spoke. "Fail me now and forfeit your life."

The energy exploded; it burned though the pillar on which it rested. Lightening and fog filled the room and spilled into the outer hall. The very foundation of this secret place seemed to rumble.

"I will burn away your flesh, dissolve your soul, and erase your very memory from time," the presence spoke. "Do not cross me."

For once, Loki had no retort. Even though his body remained strong and his face was set in determination, inside he felt as though he wanted to scream and hide like a child. She could sense everything he felt: terror, hopelessness, and complete despondency. Whether it was a promise or a threat, she wasn't certain, but the presence released a glimpse of his plan into Loki's mind's eye. She'd heard a name among the whispers in his head, and she knew beyond a doubt this was the identity of the being that held their threat.

As Loki looked out, he saw an endless army standing just below him in the valley of the moon which was surrounded by a large armada of strange, dark ships. A single target was held within their sights. It wasn't the plane of Asgard they were aiming for; it was Earth.

The power died suddenly. The cube cooled, the whine returning to a hum as the light in its center returned to deep blue. The vault quieted and cleared of the strange mist. The Tesseract slept, once again.

Sif woke with a start and a yell. The healing room was nearly empty, save for one attendant at the far end, but she still felt as though someone was watching her. Her hair stuck to her forehead and neck with sweat and her coats seemed suddenly smothering to her, but the chill remained in her core, defying the heat of her skin. She caught her breath and as her mind recognized and adjusted to her surroundings, she began to remember what had happened.

Ignoring the sick feeling in her stomach and her own exhaustion, she left the healing room and the palace, riding the rest of the way to his quarters. He owed her an explanation - and she wanted to entice it from him while the images of his ally's plan were still fresh and vibrant in her buzzing thoughts.

Without a moment's hesitation, she rode at top speed directly to his door. Despite her continued desire for discretion, she entered via his main entryway, passing two confused sentries as she did. Though she'd entered fiercely, his apartment remained dark, quiet, and perfectly still. He was sitting on the edge of his bed. He'd heard her loud entrance, but never looked up from his lap. He knew exactly who it was that had come - and he knew why.

"Loki," she started hesitantly. Her voice was steady and calm. She was not angry, but she was desperate. "Please - tell me what that was."

She expected him to fight; she expected his games or another denial and claim that the images she had seen were from her own mind. He never tried. His long, black hair covered his face from her eyes, but she could hear everything he had to say in the tone of his voice. "A message," he answered quietly. His normally smooth, seamless voice was rough and broken. Though it was as deep and rich as it normally was, it held a strained pitch, reminding her of his younger years. He did seem like child at that moment, one who had just gotten into trouble for a great trespass he couldn't even begin to deny committing.

She had difficulty finding her voice, having stumbled over his surprising confession. "I - I don't…" she started. "Explain it to me."

"What is there to understand?" he asked darkly.

He finally looked up at her. His green eyes remained filled with fear, but it was mixed with reproach - for her, it seemed - and sadness. He stood and walked around her, examining her own shocked, accusatory expression. Her eyes softened and fell. She had no idea as to why she suddenly felt a trace of guilt; it made her feel weak and exposed in his presence, something she hadn't felt since she had begun visiting him for other purposes.

"My ally gave me a specific objective in exchange for control of his army. I failed to meet it once on Midgard thanks to Thor's collaboration with a few troublesome humans - and now I'm about fail again, for I have no method to access the object he needs," he explained. "He has little mercy to grant to those who have repeatedly disappointed him. The message was a warning, but my last chance is already spent. I'm merely the walking dead until his arm reaches me."

He continued to step around her, but she didn't follow his examining eyes. He was at her back, and as he stared at her fierce, but delicate figure, he fought both the disparate temptation to persuade her back into his arms, and to lash out against her in anger.

"You must've known what would happen when you returned here. You couldn't have fooled yourself into thinking you'd succeed," she argued.

"Why?" he asked with a laugh, venom appearing in his tone as his words continued. "He granted me every tool and power I needed to succeed. Have you forgotten already? That little trick involving seizing the subconscious of a person with rare access to certain areas of Asgard?" He placed a hand on her shoulder, moving it slowly up the back of her neck. His breath stirred on her skin as he whispered in her ear. "It would've worked - had I not become so distracted."

She pulled away abruptly, her stomach turning at the unpleasantly familiar sensation and the ire in his voice. "You blame me?"

He chuckled wryly. "Yes, Sif. I have wanted you since I was too young to know what those stirrings within me meant, but you rarely paid me any of your valuable attention. You waited until the worst possible moment to turn your eye to me - when my eagerness made me a fool - and the game that ensued has weakened me. I've been vulnerable to the sentiments I've felt towards you," he said. He ran his fingers over her arm, the heat in his touch causing her skin to rise, despite the ice in his voice. "I've desired the sweet samplings of your lips over the feast of my victory and it has cost me dearly."

She turned her head, meeting his dark stare with her own fierceness. "What am I to you?" she asked abruptly. Her eyes narrowed, forming the same daggers that had once caused even the Frost Giants of Jotunheim pause. "From the beginning, I've known what the nature of this arrangement has been. The last time I stood in these quarters, you confirmed my belief that I am merely a piece of flesh to you - coveted only because I was once with Thor. Now you speak as though I've been the sole cause for your latest failure - something that you never would have allowed to happen if I were merely a vessel for your physical needs."

He scoffed and scowled, gritting his teeth in anger towards what he knew was coming. He turned away from her sight, but she drew him back with the gentle pull of his chin with her hand. "Would you be honest with me for once and for the benefit of us both, if I asked whether there is something else to this?" The words came from her throat before she could stop them, but the anger and despair she'd seen in his eyes in the palace, the blood trails down his hands and arms - all provided evidence to the fact that this question was not so farfetched as it seemed. He'd heard her with Thor and witnessed their close brush with reunion. Loki was a wonderful liar, but even he could not disguise the pain she had caused him.

She wouldn't allow his eyes to fall from hers, for she knew if they did, he would reply only in deceit. She could see a moment of confusion and thought flash within his green depths, but once again, his nature and tongue worked to cloak it. "Love?" he spat maliciously. He had more words which his anger pushed towards his lips - such as a condemnation for her willingness to so easily melt to Thor's whims after weeks of sharing his bed. As he spoke this one word, however, her face changed. She hid it quickly, but for a moment, her brow weakened, her eyes dimmed, and her lips angled downward.

"Yes," she answered simply, "if it is your wish to take my question to such an extreme." Her voice cracked as her eyes blurred; her face burned with shame, knowing already what his response would hold. Though her pride aided her in disguising her emotion, his normal jeering accompanied by his sarcastic smile or laugh would surely push her over the edge.

The mock never came. For once, he held his words. Unable or unwilling to meet her eyes any longer, he turned his back to her, hiding his face as he spoke again. "If you've been so aware of the nature of our coupling - why would you ask this of me?"

She had no answer for him, none that he would want to hear, and none that would taste right in her mouth. The silence stretched between them, and as the seconds turned to minutes, his frustration grew. He didn't want this to end; he had grown far too used to her body and flavor. His anger from the hall returned, though it was not directed towards her. He couldn't remember a time in his life when he was not jealous of Thor, but now he ached for just a sample of the influence he had over her. Yet, he could not grant her the words she wanted to hear. His heart had been wrapped in darkness and solitude for far too long. "Love" seemed like a distant, strange, and foreign thing - and in some strange sense, it seemed unworthy of her, as though she deserved more.

After long, silent moments, he asked, "are love and the craving you know I have for you really so different? I hunger for your skin when you aren't with me - and I've grown to enjoy your warm company within the walls of my house. As I understand it, you developed a taste for mine as well. Is this not enough for you? Or has Thor's latest offer increased the wager?"

It had been no surprise that he'd heard her and Thor out on the balcony; his expression had revealed enough to her. Still, she looked incredulously toward him. "Why would your answer depend on anything he's said or done? This isn't about him or my past with him." She continued cautiously, her voice lowering and calming with her next words. "I will beg you for one moment of honesty; is that what you want? I know your desire for me. I can feel it in your touch and see it in your eyes. I just want to hear it - not with the jealousy that inspired the hateful words that have since driven me from here, and not with dry sarcasm or your favored sort of jest you use to disguise your pain."

"What good would it accomplish for me to spill myself to you?"

"And what harm?" was her retort.

"You would never give of yourself any more than you already have. As you've taken care to remind me on several occasions, it would cost you far too much."

"I can't argue with you on this point," she answered, "but you must know it's the same risk that would keep me from ever using it to your shame."

He looked at her questioningly, a moment of brief hesitation passing as he appeared to either consider her point or attempt to understand her confusing demand. Her hope vanished quickly; he shook his head and scoffed. "Words are but trifle expressions between those who have shared as much as we have - and those which you seek are not easily given, especially since I know what you think of what I've become."

"How easily you seem to gift others with your speechcraft except when it's wanted. Perhaps I have my answer - since you so adamantly refuse to express anything else." She was relieved when he turned his sight from her again. The mist returned to her eyes against her will, but once again, her pride kept the water at bay. "You may not be willing to reveal yourself to me, but I'm not so ashamed," she said. "You were correct, I'm still very angry at what you've become - the monster that continually seeks injury to Asgard, Thor - and myself. Despite my better judgment, in the midst of these weeks, I've begun to care for you. I've allowed myself to become invested, and I mourn for the potential that will never be seen because the man you were has been restrained by the beast that now stands before me. Yet - I continue to hope for your redemption and that you would rise back to the left hand of Odin and find the care you had for us in the depths of your hardened heart. If you would only allow this to happen, we could…"

"We could what?" he challenged. She had no answer. He had been right; she would never give of herself any more than what she already had. "Why do you demand me to go beyond my very nature?" he asked. "I will never be subservient to Thor. Your hope is futile."

"I suppose it is," she said in defeat, though without surprise, "and yet, it seems to persevere. You have created a lovely illusion for me. Am I mad for wishing it may live on for a little longer?"

He looked at her in disbelief in preparation to ague, but once again, his words were stunted by the look on her face. She lowered her eyes, and in the dying light of his apartment, he could see the honest regret within the brown pools. His retort died on his lips as a pain appeared in his chest that he hadn't experienced in a very long time. He was sorry for what he'd said to her on the morning before she'd left for her mission - and if he possessed an ounce of honesty in his tall, thin form, he would admit to her that he already missed her.

A desire appeared in him to take her again, though not for his own selfish purposes. He only wanted to hear her gasps in his ear in the place of this pointless discussion, feel her warm flesh beneath his fingers instead of this cold distance, and replace the sadness in her eyes with the playful smile she often wore as she entered his apartment. It hadn't been long since they were first together, but she already carried a sense of nostalgia, and the first traces of the sentimentality of which he was so fearful. Still, he couldn't bring himself to ease her heart and mind by admitting this.

He moved towards her, his anger-knit brow relaxing and arching in an odd manner as he struggled with himself over what would next come from his mouth. He put his hand gently to her face, daring to run his thumb over his lower lip. She didn't recoil or turn away, but as her eyes darkened once again, it was obvious this motion had bothered or hurt her in some way he didn't understand.

"Come with me," he said suddenly. She looked up at him in shock, wondering if she misunderstood what he'd said. "Once I break free from this place, I will have all that I need to take you as well. You're strong and a close insider to Odin; my ally will count you an asset. We could - explore the nature of this game further without need for secrecy - and perhaps I will find the words you want to hear from me."

Sif stood in stunned silence. She didn't pull herself from his grasp, but he could feel the tension return to her form as she processed his offer. "Do you know me so poorly that you would believe this to be within the realm of possibility?"

Her indirect rejection had worsened the pain in his chest, though his demeanor remained stoic. "False hope abounds in both of us, it seems."

This was the apex of their differences. Their paths would split from here, regardless of what Loki felt, or of Thanos' plans. She'd heard his thoughts; the wayward son of Asgard largely recognized the fault he carried for allying himself with such a terrible being, but he was beyond the point of return. Thanos owned him, and even if he was granted asylum within the walls of the very home he betrayed, his pride would forbid his acceptance of such grace. His fate now rested in the outcome of Thor's impending struggle; there would be no hope of redemption until the victor was decided, but there would be much more to lose before the end.

"Loki…" she began, though she could not complete her broken thought. Her throat constricted, contrasting against the anger in her heart that burned her cheeks. This was harder than she thought it would be, and as her mind drifted back to the memories of what he'd done, her own feelings brought her shame. She dug the very hole beneath her feet - and had burrowed too deeply to escape from it.

A droplet of water finally broke through her stronghold, dripping from her lashes to her chin. She mumbled a curse for it and quickly wiped it away, but her childish vanity had brought a slight, nearly imperceptible smile to his lips. He slowly approached, and like it had on their first night together, the warmth of his form and the intensity of his deep and hungry stare eased the pain of her dissonance. She looked up at him hesitantly, willing herself to remain steadfast against the heat gathering in her abdomen, but as his hand lightly brushed her arm and slowly climbed to her neck, she found this increasingly difficult.

"Then this night marks the completion of our game," she started. "The next time we unite, I suppose it shall be with our blades, for you will have me as an adversary - if you will make no effort to keep me as anything more."

Her brow sank into a frown, but as soon as it appeared, it softened again. With this change in her expression, he pulled her chin upward and leaned down to her, his breath stirring against her skin in an invitation. "If it will not finish until the day closes - we should make the most of the few hours that remain."

She resisted his grasp, but he persevered. He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close. She could already feel the desire coursing through his body as he pressed his form to hers. She turned her face away, readying some dull words or reiteration of why she should leave at that moment, but his other hand grasped her chin and with more strength than she would've welcomed, forced her to face him once again.

She might have denied him for his overly-aggressive insistence, but the gentle warmth of his lips didn't match the harshness of his grasp. The flame he had ignited in her from the beginning had found its spark once more at his uncharacteristic tenderness. He'd rarely kissed her in such a manner, but she sensed a dispute poised within the motion that he couldn't express otherwise. The desperation of his hold combined with this wonderful argument weakened her resolve once again. She held no illusions about it going beyond this night, but her body was pleased with this small compromise. Her fingers slid slowly down the center of his stomach, grasping him by the belt to draw him even closer.

He smiled wickedly against her lips, satisfied he'd won this battle even it heralded the end of this pleasant experiment. His hand on her waist, he led her to his bed and sat down on its edge in front of her, preparing to liberate her from the numerous layers that separated his skin and hers. She smiled sadly and raked her nails along the back of his neck and through his long, ebony hair, causing his skin to rise, as she knew it would. He paused his actions and sighed, resting his head against her stomach in encouragement.

It was then that a faint, blue light caught his eyes from just beyond the curve of her hip beneath the folds of her coat. It took only a moment for him to realize what it was she had brought into his presence, and yet, she seemed to have forgotten she still possessed it. If she had, he was without doubt that she would've allowed it to cross the threshold of his apartment and come within his reach.

He was a good liar, and he quickly looked up to meet her stare once again to avoid granting her any indication he had been distracted by something. Without any hesitation or a moment for thought, he slipped the coat from her shoulder along with the device, folding it back so the material disguised the energy's glow before discarding it to the floor beyond the foot of his bed. He then returned his full attention to her body. If he would only have her once more, he wanted it to be worth the effort of his earlier persuasion.

---

Several hours passed before the air in his house began to cool again. She had been as desperate in this last union as he had, her fervency matching his intensity as she humored her vanity and his desire for her one more time. Though her flesh had brought him temporary comfort once again, he had no question that her desire to part ways coincided too conveniently with the end of her mission with Thor. She'd unpredictably denied the Prince's advances, but the damage from the proposition was already done. The mere act of his offer provided her with her cure - and she no longer required the treatment she'd originally sought from his rival. At least, this was Loki's thought, though his perception of what had transpired was limited, and therefore, flawed.

Loki had replayed the evening several times within his own mind as she slept soundly in his bed next to him. Her earlier sincerity had been believable, but the conditions were too extreme. Even she had to realize what it would take for him to bow his head to Odin or his son again. If there was a way for him to hold onto her, he would, but it could not happen at the expense of what he'd been working towards. She wouldn't likely be the only thing lost during this struggle, but perhaps he had a chance of bidding her return after he won his victory.

She sighed in her slumber and turned onto her side, the blanket he had given her slipping down her smooth, bare back. At first, he smiled, debating on whether he could muster the physical strength to wake her once again. However, the starlight illuminated more than her pale skin; amidst the porcelain, he could see the marks of his own hands marring her nearly perfect canvas. Once again, he had bruised her, but in his frantic efforts to keep her for the night, he had done more damage than ever before. She hadn't said anything, and made no noise or motion to indicate her own discomfort. Perhaps she'd been too focused on her own gratification to notice, or maybe she'd hidden her displeasure for his sake.

He would never know the answer. Using caution and moving slowly, he gently slipped out of his bed. She sighed softly, but made no other move; her slumber continued, even as he dressed. The device was still burning, though its light had dimmed, and he was glad he'd thought to hide it under her coat. If she'd seen it, she would've recognized the threat of its proximity.

He took the device from the floor, his heart rising to his throat in unmitigated joy over the very idea of being free from this place. The key to his prison lay undefended within the palm of his hand; even if he were to be challenged at that moment, there wasn't a thing in Odin or Thor's power that could be done to prevent his escape and the theft he had planned within the vault.

"Loki…" her firm, quiet voice interrupted his thoughts.

The moment he looked up at her, the crooked, wide smile he hadn't realized was on his lips faded. Her eyes were fixed on the object in his hand, her brow furrowed in deep worry. She was not stupid, but she had been very careless - and the expression of shame was unmistakable on her features. In the rush of their final battle on Jotunheim and the pain of her injured arm, she'd forgotten that Thor had given her the portal device. It was the one item that could win Loki his freedom, and she had handed it to him freely.

"Please…" she softly implored him.

His smile returned, but at the sound of her rare desperation, it held merely a shadow of what it did before. His eyes had darkened, and as he looked at her from under his deep, furrowed brow behind his raven hair, she saw the monster had regained its control.

"Begging doesn't become someone as fair as you, Sif," he started; his voice had changed as well, its deep, rough baritone causing an ache in her heart that the water in her eyes refused to allow her to ignore. "Not someone with blood of such rare value - someone who should, by all measure of quality, be queen."

"Loki," she said softly, her voice broken by the strain in her throat, "this will ruin me."

"There is no reason you should fear such a future - unless you reject my offer once more," he said. His voice lightened to a saccharine tone that sickened her stomach as much as the look in his eyes. All legitimacy was gone, and though his offer was serious, it was meant as much to patronize her. He knew he had her trapped; in his view, her decision should have been easy and simple to make. "Thor might have tossed you aside, but surely you now know that I would not let you go to such waste. I would give you the seat next to my throne, make you the mother to its heirs, and give you the glory and position you've worked so hard for ever since you were a child. The only thing I require in exchange is that you take my hand at this very moment. Come with me tonight, or face your fate at Odin's feet."

Her eyes fell to the blanket on her lap. Her features still held the confusion and shock caused by his betrayal as her pain refused to ebb. Her face furrowed and twisted in reflection, but her mind was not so turbulent. He smiled in belief that she was considering his offer, but as he examined her expression for traces of her answer, her hand slipped beneath his pillow to the dagger she knew he kept there. In one quick, subtle movement, she unclasped the blade from its holder, throwing it without doubt or hesitation towards the center of his chest.

As quickly as she moved, he did as well. She had barely pulled her arm back for the throw when he surmised her efforts and activated the device in his palm. Blue smoke and fire filled the air - and the dagger fell lifelessly to the ground as his figure disappeared.

Sif cursed and tore herself out from the covers of his bed, wasting no time in pulling on her clothing as fast as possible. She had barely returned to modesty when a loud, panicked knock resounded from his door. Even before she opened it, she knew who it was, though she wasn't sure if she had the strength to answer him.

"Lady Sif," Garik began carefully, "I don't mean to intrude, but I saw…"

"Wake Thor," she ordered, interrupting his words. She swallowed hard, attempting to gather her strength. "Tell him - tell him Loki has escaped."

The archer's mouth opened with a question, but the sharp edge to her eyes defeated his desire to press further. He nodded simply and pulled his bow over his neck and shoulder, running as fast as his legs could carry him towards the palace.

Sif tied her sword around her belt, leaving the coats she'd worn in piles on the floor. On her exit through the front door, she passed two confused guards. One of them called to her in an attempt to find the reason for this sudden clamor, but her ears were deafened by the inferno of rage she felt in her gut, the hot blood coursing through her veins, and the intense sting rising in the left side of her chest. Without response, she untied the nearest horse, and took off towards the palace at full gallop.

For a brief moment, she'd caught up to Garik, but her path quickly deviated from his. She was not riding to the upper levels of the palace as he was. She knew enough of Loki's plan to realize that he would not have left the realm of Asgard yet; there was something he needed within its heart. If she rode swiftly enough, perhaps she would catch him in time, before Thor or the Allfather were alerted to his escape. If she could, then there was a small chance for hope she could clean up some of the mess she'd made, and spare herself a small fraction of the shame this would yet cause her.

Through the darkness she drove her steed, into the entrance of the palace and then downward, towards its center. The horse reared and slowed down despite her prodding as the light of the realm disappeared into shadow, unsure about its footing on the slick, stone stairs. She regretted not having taken her own horse, who would have loyally followed her commands at the risk to its own welfare or fear of the unseen path ahead. Still, she took mercy on her borrowed beast, dismounting its back and continuing the rest of the way by foot.

Her worst fears were confirmed; as she approached the vault, she knew he had already made his move. The air within the large cavern was much too still and quiet. As she drew closer to the entrance, she could see two of the vault guards laying motionless on the ground. She knelt down to examine one for signs of life, and as his chest moved with breath, she sighed in relief. She could not have lived with herself if her grave mistake had resulted in a death, but Loki had merely knocked them unconscious with a spell of some sort.

The large door was slightly open, and though she knew he would have heard her, she preceded cautiously and quietly over its threshold. A rush of heat gathered and filled her body as her anger surged. He was still there, his green cape turned towards her as he gazed inside the small window of the room that had been built to protect the Tesseract. His iconic, golden helmet hid his face from her view, but the wry chortle from his throat alerted her to the fact that he was aware of her presence there. She pulled her sword before walking down the stairs and over two more sleeping Einherjar. She stopped just behind him, the tip of her blade aimed toward the vulnerable gap between the bottom of his helmet and the top of his armor.

"The Allfather made a good effort of protecting his treasures. The device was not strong enough to break his barrier on this place - and it took me quite a while to defeat the defensive enchantments on the door," he spoke, explaining why he was still there, despite how long it had taken her to catch up to him. "Of course, it was no matter anyway - since nothing I need is here."

With an unintelligible roar, he slammed his fists against the wall of the inner room. His voice echoed around the empty chamber. Without having to look, she knew he was telling the truth. Odin's Vault had been left barren and empty. Not even the Destroyer Armor was present and the gateway into the dimension in which it was stored had been temporarily sealed, as evidenced by the lack of its bright, white light at the end of the corridor. The room was dark, save for two torches near the stairs and by the entrance.

He finally turned to acknowledge her, his angry expression softening almost imperceptibly as his stare met hers; she hardened her stance, unwilling to fall for his games and false hopes any longer. "If anyone were to know the new location in which they've been stored, it would be you, Loyal Sif."

"Even if I did - why would I reveal this after what you've done to me?" she asked, trying desperately to make her voice as firm as her footing. She tightened her grasp around her sword, dismayed when the blade began to waver in the air despite the strength of her arm and posture.

"My eyes must deceive me - for I see one of Asgard's mightiest warriors trembling meekly before me."

She felt her throat constrict against her will as his words sliced through her. Despite her anger, his remarks still stung her to her center. She nearly flinched, and as her eyes drifted momentarily down to the tip of her blade, he took the opportunity of her distraction and acted upon it.

Using his metal gauntlet, he violently knocked her sword to her right and used the small window of vulnerability this granted him to throw his fist into her left cheek. She tripped and stumbled back in surprise, and in this short time, he was able to arm himself with the staff of one of the Einherjar that had fallen nearby. Her tenacity renewed, she swung her sword at his middle, but he blocked and parried, sending the blunt end of the staff into her gut before she could rebound. He was very strong, and though she hated to acknowledge it, the pain of his betrayal was affecting her ability to block or withstand his attacks; the impact threw her back, sending her to the hard ground.

Before she could recover, he threw the staff so that its double-forked end caught the fabric of her shirt, holding her in place for the moment. He knelt next to her, leaning his face close to hers as his features softened. "You have every reason to doubt me right now," he said, "but I don't wish for any harm to come to you."

A small trickle of blood fell from her broken lip. His brow arched in regret as he slowly brushed his thumb over her swollen, pink flesh to wipe it away. She turned her head away from him, despising the nostalgic sensation the simple motion caused. His expression grew cold again.

"Please - make this easier for both of us," he continued. "If you intend to still deny me despite my offer of Yggdrasil itself, at least allow me to leave this place so I might save my own life. Once I am gone, you can claim I used whatever means you wish to force you into submission so that I could steal the device. There will be none here to refute your claims and you can escape this unscathed. If you continue to stand in my path…"

She never gave him the chance to finish. She sent her knee into his side. Despite the strength of his armor, he gasped and held his ribs, backing away to recover his breath. As soon as he was distant enough for her to gain the advantage of angle, she swung her leg around, sending her heel into the back of his head. He fell to the stone beneath him, unable to push himself up for the pain in his ribs and the back of his neck.

Grasping her sword again, she stood to her feet. The bones in her knee ached and her lips stung, but this held nothing to the hollow, deep ache within her stomach. "You are a liar - to your very core!" she shouted in a broken voice. "Do you honestly expect me to believe this all is for the sake of your own survival? Or that you give a damn about what would happen to me once you left? You only seek to rule and you would destroy anyone and anything to achieve your desires, even Asgard itself!"

"Spare me your judgment," he said, chuckling wryly as he turned on his back and stared up at her. "You're so certain you know my mind, and yet you've misinterpreted everything. I have no intention of destroying Asgard, for I love it too much to see it come to harm. I only wish to ensure its prosperity and protect it as the rest of Yggdrasil falls under the power of my ally. My offer to you - intended the same."

She raised her sword to the soft center of his neck, pressing the point into his pale flesh until she saw a crimson bead form against the cold steel. He didn't move or flinch, his dark eyes remained fixed on hers intently. On any other person, she would count it as a sign of authenticity; on him, she saw it as nothing but evidence of the same slippery skill he'd used to get his way his entire life. Water gathered in her eyes again, blurring her vision. "How can I accept such an offer - when you've already destroyed me yourself?"

His brow furrowed in mock confusion, her desperate words falling on his deafened ears. "You put the device within my grasp. You brought it into my chambers, hanging from your belt as though it was one of Idunn's gifts ripe for harvest. You did nothing to keep me from stripping it from your person," he argued. "I am merely an opportunist; hardly to blame if your own thoughtlessness causes your end."

Her eyes fell from his, water still threatening to fall as the truth of the circumstances slowly sunk into her own mind. His words contained the strongest sort of venom, the convicting mirror that did nothing but reflect all guilt back to her. The worst of it was - he was right.

Her lips remained silent despite the continued adamancy of her blade. He sensed the weight of their struggle shifting, and so he spoke again. "We have labeled this a game - you cannot place blame for my desire to be the victor. But when all has passed - know that I had cared for you."

Once again, she met his stare, her eyes narrowing to the blades feared across the realms of the universe. Though his expression had softened, his own green depths lacked the warmth they had held for her just a short time ago, and those words had spilled far too easily from his tongue. She set her jaw and drew back her sword arm. For a moment, Loki's face furrowed in real fear, as he could see the will to strike ignite her features.

The memory of every hardship caused, every trespass he'd committed against her suddenly flashed before her; the discomfort he'd caused her with his stare in their adolescence, his "harmless" pranks he'd committed against her friends and respected teachers, the theft of her golden hair, and the recent violation of her subconscious. Her blood began to boil within her veins. She drew her blade back. His remark hadn't ameliorated her rage; it had only worsened it.

The strength she'd hoped to find would not come and her sword remained quiet. The door to the vault crashed open, stealing her focus and interrupting her intentions. She already knew who it was. Sense and reason began to return to her. By the time he took his place at her side, her blood had cooled to an uncomfortable burn.

"Sif…" he spoke. His deep, terse voice echoed throughout the silent, empty chamber.

Her temper calmed even more as she bet his azure eyes, but in its place, a sense of panic and dread refused to allow her peace. She dropped her sword, realizing Mjolnir would serve this purpose better and would provide a much more oppressive presence than her wavering blade.

Loki cursed and gritted his teeth. His chance was gone, though it had been obvious to him the moment he'd entered the empty vault. Once again, he felt like a helpless, caged animal. Despite the fact that Sif had retracted her sword, he stayed where he was. Thor's right arm twitched as though it itched to aim a strong toss of his hammer at his lost brother's head, and without a single artifact available to him, he could not withstand or meet Mjolnir's force.

"You underestimated Earth and quickly met your defeat. Though it shocks me to my core, you have made the same mistake within the walls of your own home," Thor started. "Do think so ill of the Allfather that you doubt his ability to sense the Tesseract's great power? He knew the moment it awoke - and likely heard its call even sooner than you."

Loki dropped his eyes, unwilling to concede Thor his point. "Had I moved sooner, I… " Regret enveloped him. Sif had once again distracted him, the fire born from what they both knew would be their last night together dulling his thoughts and instinct.

"It wouldn't have mattered," Thor argued. "Ever since the day you first betrayed us, you've argued sentimentality and love as weaknesses. For once, you were right. Your warning to Mother was cause for Odin's careful guard of the cube. It was by your own warning that we thought to move it when it was activated to Odin's own protection, for fear your ally might be drawn to it. I should thank you, Brother," he said, a soft, antagonizing chuckle escaping his throat which made him sound for a moment like the fallen man before him. "Your warning has spared us your escape - and has ensured us that whatever treasures you were after are safe from our enemy's hands."

For a moment, Loki remained quiet, the taste of this loss far too bitter to be cured by his normal venomous reply.

Thor sighed as the silence stretched between them, showing his minor surprise at the fact that Loki was not choosing to combat him with his harsh words. He uncharacteristically kept his anger under control, but Loki was too consumed by his circumstances to put this to mind. "Very well," he started, recognizing his brother's lack of will to fight. "I will present the offer once more - before rescinding it forever. If this relative freedom tastes sweet, I shall tempt you with more. Tell me why he called you this night and to where. Reveal what you know of his efforts, what he wanted from this vault - and I will release you from your chamber's walls."

Thor's voice held a firm confidence, but the offer itself stank of desperation. "Now this is strange, Brother," Loki began. "Why would you reiterate this bargain at the cusp of my greatest defeat? I think you are worried - about what is yet unknown to you." These thoughts brought the cold smile back to Loki's lips. He stood and met Thor's stare firmly. He spoke again, icy sarcasm dripping from every syllable, "I believe I'm the one who owes you gratitude, for moments ago, I was awash in my despair, having forgotten the secrets I still hold."

"Loki, your benefactor is not the friend he purports to be. To keep his confidence…"

Loki chuckled deeply. "I'm not stupid. I realized his motivations long ago. But merely for the joy of withholding them from you - I shall keep his secrets safe."

"Then keep them. I hope they keep you company in the midst of your solitude, for you will remain locked in your prison for a very long time."

Loki chortled and smiled broadly. Thor's threats did nothing. "It is sad irony - that Odin's heir to the seat he so carefully protected would be so weak. Strong arms are useless if their wielder has no spine."

The air grew thick as Thor's rage returned. His face became red, but his tongue remained still. The strength he could not muster when Loki first returned suddenly appeared, drawn out by the fool himself. He need only to draw the words from his gut and this burden would disappear, the question of his rebellious brother removed from his mind and heart permanently. His stark blue eyes met Loki's, dropping to a shade of darkness he had never seen before. He knew what words tempted his brother's tongue, yet still, they would not come.

"Do it," Loki urged, "do it! I am as good as dead anyway, so why not prove you own an ounce of fortitude in your large body for once and issue the order your sentimentality prevented you from upon my return? I grow weary of you and your games!"

Thor's intense expression melted to one of confusion. "What makes you so eager suddenly?" he asked. "It is surely not the circumstances in which I've placed you. Are you that terrified of him - this nameless enemy that draws ever closer to our door?"

Loki's desperation vanished, once again replaced by a crooked smile, a sign he was likely going to keep playing the game he confessed himself to having grown tired of. Whatever he was going to say next was stolen from his lungs, his thoughts interrupted by Sif's unusually quiet voice.

"He is - and he has every reason to be," she spoke, her voice broken with strain, though her eyes remained dry and sharpened daggers.

Loki turned towards her, his features covered in the same quiet desperation she had shown him only earlier that night. Though her brow softened as her stare met his, she did not relent. For weeks, her greatest fear was that she would be accused of being a traitor to Odin, Thor, and Asgard for the time she spent with Loki. If she kept his arsenal to herself, it would only confirm her guilt.

"Sif?" Thor said. He was surprised she would interrupt, as it wasn't her place to interject herself in this conversation.

Loki's eyes dropped to the floor as he came to the same conclusion Sif had. In reality, her position and loyalty to Thor left her little choice, but in his turbulent thoughts, he could only see betrayal. A look of pain and bitter anger crossed his features. It brought her only regret to realize that it might have caused her pause if she had seen it at any point before the events of that night - before he used her and stole from her.

"His name is Thanos," she said firmly, gathering her strength of will. Her gaze left Loki and focused on Thor; she ignored the quiet scoff of her former lover as she continued, pushing back her own feelings toward his dark, arched brow and the haze that appeared in his eyes. "He is every bit as powerful as Loki has said he is and perhaps even more. His army - is far greater than any my mind could've imagined."

"You've experienced another dream?" Thor surmised.

"In a sense," she answered. "It was more of a message - and I was witness to all of it."

"What did you see?" he asked. Although he outwardly showed no satisfaction in this information, Loki's unsettled thoughts projected a smug smile onto his lips. The fallen Odinson clenched his fists at his side, and Sif could hear the scraping of bone as he ground his teeth behind his scowl.

"Everything you described about your battle on Earth, the Chitauri, their technology, and weapons - multiplied beyond what I could even find words for."

"Try," Thor urged.

She sighed, and did her best. "Oceans of fighters, both real and synthetic, heavily armed and readily awaiting his orders; legions of magic users who are capable of even darker powers than Loki's; hundreds of black ships, visible even against a darkened sky," she said, "and their target - Earth."

With her last statement, Thor's eyes grew wide. "Earth?" he asked. "Then Jane was right…"

"Jane?"

"She predicted as much, but I dismissed her in belief they would seek to challenge us first. I've left them exposed," he said, the shade of his guilt unmistakable to her ears. Loki sighed through his nose, shaking his head in disbelief at Thor's continued show of sentimentality towards the mortal realm. "Are you still content with your stubbornness, Brother?" he asked. "It has won you nothing - and all your secrets have been spilled regardless."

Loki's lips curved upward and his gaze locked on Sif. She could feel the burn of his intense stare, but she would not meet it. She knew what was coming, but she could not yet find the words to defend herself against its impact.

"Not all of my secrets, Brother…" he said, mocking Thor's earlier words.

"It's enough; I will make of it what I can. In the meantime, I would enjoy every moment of free air you are granted, if I were in your position. It is unlikely you will see the skies of Asgard again for an age or longer."

Loki laughed wryly. "I should expect no less for my failed efforts," he conceded, "but show me one more act of grace before I am shelved and silenced for the remainder of this temporary peace in Asgard."

Thor's voice grew deep and broke as he asked, "What more does my enemy expect of me?"

Sif finally lifted her eyes to meet his cold expression. Though her features were filled with a quiet sadness, they lacked panic or a plea for his silence. She knew it would be fruitless. Any hope or her retaining her dignity, her honor, and Thor's favor and friendship would lie in her own ability to answer for the charge she knew would be coming from Loki's own mouth.

"Ask her how…" he started. "Ask your loyal friend and servant how I managed to procure the device that allowed me my escape. Ask her what she was doing in my quarters so late this night, and why she took the risk of trying to stop me herself, instead of waiting for Mjolnir's aid. Ask her these simple questions and I will complacently accept whatever humiliation you have planned for me."

"What is this new game?" Thor asked.

"It is no game," Loki answered, "but you would never believe the truth of her answers if they came from my lips. I need her to say them."

Thor shook his head, prepared to adamantly deny his strange request. He knew Loki - and the manipulation he intended from these questions was already apparent. As he opened his mouth, however, Loki's words had taken root. He couldn't deny the questions were valid, and his instincts were loudly arguing for the sake of Loki's still unclear point. He knew he might regret it, as he knew it might hurt her that he would even consider humoring Loki in his efforts against her, but he switched his stare to her.

"Sif?"

She struggled for her answer and it showed in her demeanor and expression. Thor became alarmed, the seed of thought growing in his mind that for once, Loki's malicious mischievousness might contain an element of truth.

"I fell asleep while the healers worked on my arm and saw into his dreams. Everything I witnessed I've already told you. I went to him to ask what it meant - to ascertain if what I saw contained the real threat, or if it was of his own mind." This part of the answer came easily, as it was honest. As she considered her next words, she paused again, and her throat constricted in pain and fear for what this continuation of her response might bring. "He overpowered me - and took the device from my belt."

Loki laughed coldly. "Well done; that was almost convincing," he said. "To think that I could overpower a great warrior without my magic... I am flattered."

Thor ignored his brother and his words. His stare remained focused on Sif intently, his expression revealing the doubt he felt towards her answer. She met his eyes momentarily, but she could not hold the lock of their azure depths and she quickly faltered.

"Sif…" he said again, his voice deeper than it had been a moment before. "I've had little reason to doubt you throughout our history together, for not only do I trust you, but you lack any skill at lying. I can plainly see the falsity on your lips. Tell me what remains unsaid."

She shifted her weight under his stare. She would still not look up at him, instead, focusing on Loki. His maniacal smile was still present, spread widely on his mouth. There was not a hint of regret or shadow of sorrow on his features. Instead, he hungrily awaited her answer. She wished she had killed him when she had the chance, though not for the sake of her honor - but for the pain she felt at his efforts.

"I had gone to interrogate him over the dream," she said, "but there was no such struggle over the device."

"Then - what..?" he halted his question before it left his tongue. A heavy stone appeared suddenly in his stomach. He somehow knew where this forced confession was leading, but his mind would not allow him to accept it until he heard the words in her own voice.

Her eyes betrayed her as they met his, water trailing treacherously down her cheeks. Barely a breath escaped her throat as she spoke, but it was enough. "I was so focused on the dream, I'd forgotten you'd given it back for my keeping after our return. He took it from my coat - while I slept."

"Why were you..?" he started. Once again, the question perished before he could complete it.

"I bedded him," she answered abruptly. "That is what he wants me to tell you - the point of this game." She continued, but as she did, her voice grew rough and began to break. "I have shared his bed on many nights as of late and have grown careless because of it. I pay the price with my shame. This is something I never wanted you to know."

Loki looked sharply over at Thor, savoring the downturn of his features and, to his own delight, the pain that was so suddenly evident in his eyes. The prince opened his mouth to speak, but nothing would come of it - and as he felt the stare of Loki burning through the back of his head, his words became even more difficult to push through.

"Guards," Thor called softly. The Einherjar had been waiting outside, so assured of their prince's victory against Loki in a fight that they opted to stay well out of his way; they rushed in at Thor's voice, confused for the lack of any apparent confrontation. "Return him to his quarters. Bind him, muzzle him, and take his daggers, his food, his books, everything he has used for pleasure away from him. Shut his windows from the light of Asgard and order the magicians to reinforce the boundary surrounding his house. We've made it too comfortable for him, but the prison will not hold him; this is our compromise."

Loki chortled. "Do away with my rare entertainment and I will think nothing of it. Seeing your face a moment ago will bring me joy enough to last for an age."

Thor ignored his quip as the guards began chaining Loki for his long walk up through the palace and back to his apartment. Sif had hoped he would wait for him to leave before beginning what she was sure would be the worst moments of her long life, but he was in no mood to sate her desire for privacy.

"It was you?" he asked. His brow furrowed intensely and his lips fell; she had never seen such a scowl on his face. She lowered her head, unable to answer immediately. "You were his consort? This entire time?"

She struggled to reply. "T-Thor," she started meekly. "I can explain…"

"That isn't what I want to hear," he said firmly.

More water fell freely down her cheeks, leaving streaks upon her pale complexion. "Then tell me what I can say…"

"Nothing," he said. He clenched his fist at his side and turned from her, but she could see the anger emanating from his entire form. "There is nothing you can say. Your shame is merely the beginning of the price you may pay for this." He breathed deeply, attempting to calm the rage and pain boiling within his chest. "If it weren't for the pull of my heart, my duty to Asgard would see you punished far more seriously. If you were any other woman within this realm, you would already be on your way to the scourger's stone," he said lowly.

She lifted her head slowly and timidly, meeting his eyes, though she found herself weak against his stare. "Then perhaps that is where you should put me."

"Do not tempt my anger or try to sway my mind," he said sharply. "I've been betrayed by one of my most trusted friends. I would have rather you sent a blade through my chest than bear me the news of your coupling with my enemy."

"I didn't…" she started in nearly a yell. She tried to calm herself and gather her strength, but once again, her body betrayed her. "I didn't intend any betrayal. I-it was merely physical…"

"Another deception," he interrupted. "Is he not the one you spoke so warmly of on Jotunheim? Your 'challenge?'"

She glanced towards Loki and the Einherjar. The guards were taking him out of the vault, but their pace was slowed by his chained ankles and shortened gait. They were not yet beyond the door. "Yes," she answered quietly, hoping to avoid his sensitive ears. He didn't look back, or give any indication that her efforts had failed. "But my loyalty to you was never impeded by the depth to which I was immersed in that illusion. Thor…" she started again, but her heart could not bear to push forward her feelings and true thoughts to her lips.

A long silence stretched between them, broken only by the gradually fading sounds of the chains binding Loki and the armor of the Einherjar. Neither would speak, for Thor still felt the fire of his anger on his tongue, and Sif possessed not the bravery to offer him another excuse or explanation he would not hear.

"What is it you wish me to do?" she finally asked, unable to tolerate the silence any longer.

"Go to your quarters," he answered without hesitation. "Remain there until I acquire the strength to speak with you further, or until I've decided what I'm to do with you." She simply nodded, but as she walked around him to leave, he spoke again. "Before you leave - lay down your sword."

Her eyes grew wide in surprise and her brow furrowed in worry. "Thor…" she started to argue, but was silenced once again. The cold scowl on his face and the ice in his eyes implied his desire to be left without such argument. Unceremoniously, she untied her sheath from her belt and threw her weapon on the ground before his feet.

---

The day had grown old and passed quietly. Hours slipped by without notice. She never bothered lighting a fire or torch, and so the darkness of night had swallowed her chambers, echoing the way she felt inside. She sat on her bed, her knees drawn to her chest as she stared at some vague, distant point. The air was chilled, but she could not feel it; either she had acclimated to it in her nights in his company, or the numbness she felt in her heart had spread to her arms and legs.

Everything she'd feared had come true. Her deepest nightmares had come to pass in her waking life. Loki had betrayed her secret because she'd spilled his, but the penalty hardly seemed equal. The very act of his treachery and theft had cut into her heart, and she hated herself for the pain she was allowing it to cause. Despite knowing the risk of what may happen if Thor ever learned of who had been cooling the sting of her injuries, she never expected it would be revealed at such a vulnerable moment.

Of all of the schemes Loki had pulled in his lifetime, this offense was of the worst sort. His previous tricks had resulted in grave consequences, but this one had cut her even deeper. He'd made her feel safe, warm, and comfortable with his slithering form. This time, the cost had come to more than just her body.

With this thought, the ice blue eyes of the prince, narrowed in anger and dismay, ran through her mind. She wasn't entirely sure how to read his reaction, despite the fact that she had relived the memory in her mind a thousand times since he'd sent her from his presence. She could see his desire to lash out at her, tempered only by the history they shared and the warm feelings he still felt for her, but she held nothing against him. If their positions had been switched, she wouldn't have resisted the urge to act.

Despite his steady hand, his command to leave her sword behind struck her particularly hard. What the simple order symbolized was worse than the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice, for it showed his lack of trust in her, and his doubt in her as his loyal follower, friend, and as someone who still owned a fraction of his heart. This said more regarding the jeopardy she had placed herself in than any of his other words.

A knock at the door finally pulled her from the pit of her thoughts. She held no wish whatsoever to see her friends, the queen, or any other citizen of Yggdrasil, but considering the hour, the chances of it being any but one man were slim. "Who is it?" she called, attempting to normalize her voice in the event her instincts were incorrect.

"Thor," she heard him softly answer.

She sighed and bit her lip. "Enter," she said, though her words were already hard to form in her throat.

He walked into her dark quarters slowly, evidently as reticent as she was regarding continuing their earlier talk. She remained on her bed, and failed to meet his eyes as he approached.

"I have given myself some time to cool, but I'm still very angry," he spoke.

His eyes shined with glass and the pain in her stomach reappeared. "I've spent these hours imagining everything you must be thinking and feeling. Perhaps your words are unnecessary."

"That we could both escape these circumstances so easily…"

"Then say what you will," she pleaded. "The silent wait thus far has been my own torture. Jotunheim has nothing on the cold loneliness and despair I've felt this night."

"If these yet minor consequences cause you such torment, then why did you…" he trailed off. The very idea of the following words caused the taste of bile to rise in his throat.

"My answer," she began, "is far too complicated to grant you, and I'm not certain I could find the words to begin."

"Try."

She shook her head, unable to find her voice. For a moment, she looked up at him, but his eyes contained the same unwelcoming steel they had within the vault; it stole her fortitude and left her choked. This had been hard enough with the queen, but he presented an insurmountable challenge beyond what she was expecting. She lowered her gaze again, and pushing back her pride, began. The current circumstances would never change if she remained silent for the sake of saving her the inevitable shame that would result from this. "I - found comfort with him; comfort I believed I needed, yet could find from no other. At the time, I thought it was worth the danger of you learning of this trespass - because of his desire for me and the way it made me feel."

"You speak in terms of the past, yet your last tryst with him was a mere turning of the star, by your own admission. How am I to believe your heart has changed in such a short time?"

"He stole from me," she said, her voice steady, though she had to fight very hard to keep it from wavering. "He waited until I was at my most defenseless, and then he traded me and everything that I was for only a chance of returning to his ally - a beast that will seek his death as much as ours once he learns that Loki has failed yet again. What else am I to feel?"

"I believe that," he said after some great stretch of thought, "and yet, this answer fails to ease my heart."

"I could reveal everything, tell you of every sordid rendezvous, and illuminate all of my thoughts and motivations, but there is nothing I could say that will alleviate the impact of my honesty," she argued. "I have been weak, and through this temporary vulnerability, I have also been careless. I can offer no excuse. I know this has caused great hardship for you and for Asgard - and so I will repeat my earlier offer. Give me to the scourger if the wish remains in your heart. If it will lend any sort of aid to your forgiveness, I will endure that deep, momentary pain, but please - don't send me from your side; that is a punishment I could not bear."

He crossed his arms as though she had created a great controversy within his own mind. He said nothing, allowing another long stretch of silence to fill the air between them. Her eyes dropped to her lap once again as she imagined what her life would be like after this day. Would he even want to see her again - let alone allow her to continue to serve both him and Asgard?

"Were you in love with him?"

She looked up towards Thor sharply, an incredulous expression on her face more intense than anything he'd ever seen, though there was a part of him that doubted the sincerity of her dismay. "What?" she asked in quiet disbelief that she had heard him correctly.

"Do not evade my question; I will only assume the worst," he said abruptly.

The words would not leave her tongue, though they paused for a reason she couldn't understand. Her desire to be completely honest with Thor seemed impeded by this strange challenge, though she refused to accept one possible reason for this. "I love you," she finally said. "Of this, you can be certain."

He audibly scoffed at her response, but this reaction quickly vanished. His stare fell to the ground as his eyes began to shine once again. "There has never been a time in the memory of my life when I would've doubted your words - until this day."

"Thor…" her argument crashed with the violent constricting of her throat. She could not continue. So many of her finest centuries had been spent within his company, following his orders while enjoying his companionship in one form or another. It was so easy for him to discard this long history for a few weeks of weakness; this answered the unasked question of how purely he valued her. In the period of only a few hours, both Odinsons had shown this quality in common - and she felt a useless fool for falling for such a sweet lie twice. "Do what you will, then - and leave me be. I can give you nothing else and I am finished with this discussion."

The finality of her words surprised him, as well as her dismissal. "This is not a wise choice if you are attempting to defend yourself," he warned, but she remained silent. "Sif…" He began to argue again, but the suddenly stoic look on her features attested to the truth of her unwillingness to continue. He wanted her to argue because he wanted to understand; at any other point, she would've been more than willing to fight to clarify whatever point these mystifying actions held. Her eyes would've happily alighted with the fires of Muspelheim if it would lead to his greater understanding. He knew nothing of what to do with this strange version of one of his oldest friends, and so he simply honored her wishes and left.

---

The day had brought so many challenges that Thor felt more weight and exhaustion upon his shoulders than ever before. The hour had grown late and the time felt right for sleep, but even as he sought the solace of his own bed, he knew it would not bring him rest. Jane's soft face filled his mind, her features fallen in the sadness he shared, knowing that their current circumstances would not favor the continuance of their relationship. He could still smell her hair, and feel her warmth beside him in his cold room. Yet even with those sensations, he felt completely alone.

His brother sank further and further from him and now seemed content to take others with him. Sif, the woman he'd trusted as one of his closest friends, had committed the greatest wrong she ever could have against him. Only the cold steel of her blade through his chest could've caused more harm. These thoughts would not leave him be, and despite his own haunting tiredness, he needed answers. There was something left unsaid in Sif's dark quarters, a missing piece that would have explained why she did what she did. She had inferred no further deception than what he already knew, but her motivations were still shrouded in such mystery that he knew there had to be something else - something she wouldn't say herself.

He knew it was a bad idea that he would shortly regret, but he was never one to ignore his screaming instincts. Rising from his bed against his body's protests, he clothed himself again. Loki would give him no clearer answers than what Sif had denied him already, but perhaps his lies would reveal something unintentionally.

Thor was pleased when he approached his brother's quarters to find the Einherjar were taking their positions much more seriously than they had been before. There were three pairs: one at a distance, one at his front door, and another at the previously unguarded rear window. The enchantments that had been placed around his quarters had been reinforced and even produced a translucent shine that hadn't been previously visible. Inside, it was much of the same. His windows had been blocked so effectively that the only light one could see in his apartment was that of a single, dying torch on the far wall. Loki had been chained to a support pillar; his only luxury was that of a single, thin cushion on which he sat. Glimmering in the faint light, was the metal of his muzzle, secured in place once again over his venomous mouth. However, Thor could still see the traces of his brilliant, crooked smile beyond the edges of the mask.

"And here I thought you'd finally gotten the point. What more do you think I will say? I have already failed and fallen even further. I have no intention of risking what few, meager advantages I still own," Loki said into the darkness.

"I'm not here to discuss your allies," Thor answered.

Loki's eyebrow twitched in light surprise. "What is it you want? To talk about Sif?" he asked. Thor remained silent, but his darkening expression revealed everything. "Oh, I see. Well, what is it you would like to know? How often I had her? What she liked? If she ever compared me to you?"

"Loki…"

"What pain this must have caused that you would focus on this issue before the man who threatens all the realms in Yggdrasil," Loki teased.

Thor hardened his jaw. "He is not forgotten, nor am I ignoring what you nearly did within the vault," he explained. "In truth, I am debating whether to give you what you seek and send you to your ally. You will surely do us more harm than any benefit you would grant him. You are less dangerous in his presence than with us."

Loki's wry laughter came deeply and roughly from his throat. "So the new, gentler Thor is merely a façade after all? You know he would only kill me for my failure."

"Perhaps, but I may be content to banish you anyway," he said. His eyes dropped and darkened yet again, a look of confused dismay crossing his features that Loki hadn't seen since he'd deceived him into thinking Odin had died. "I need only to determine if you would have company."

Despite the danger banishment posed, Loki's heart soared in excitement. The object he had wanted most was within reach of becoming his forever. She may have rejected his offer, but if Thor banished her, she would certainly be broken enough to change her allegiance. His allies could forget themselves. If Sif came with him, he would be leaving with a far more valuable treasure than the item in the vault he had been charged with procuring.

"Yes, send her," he said, his voice hitching upward as he barely contained himself. "Banish Sif with me for all she has done."

Thor's brow furrowed at the obvious wickedness in Loki's tone. "She has risked everything for your affair. I'm not certain she wouldn't, on some level, desire to be ostracized with you."

Loki's smile dropped as he remembered her words and the look upon her face within the vault. Thor's hyperbolic remark had a lovely cadence to it, but it held no sort of truth; it would be Hel for her, and nothing about his company could alleviate the pain of being sent from Asgard, or from its prince. A seed of a thought, unpleasant and uncharacteristic of his normal habits, began growing in his mind. Though he doubted Thor would allow his trickster brother to sway his decision so easily, he suddenly found himself faced with a choice.

"No," he spoke roughly, "she wouldn't."

Thor looked up at him in confusion. "Whatever you've given her in these past weeks, it has been enough for her to leave her honor and abandon her oath to me," he said, his frustration and anger finally showing with the rising of his voice. "How can you be so certain?"

"Because - the spell is wearing off."

He knelt down in front of Loki, locking his gaze with cold, hard eyes void of any of the mercy he'd shown thus far. "What spell? Give me your straight answer; I will have none of your games this night."

Loki chortled briefly and continued. "I may have planted a small suggestion in her mind - when I shared her dreams. It worked much better than expected. Only now is she beginning to realize the mysterious origins of her thirst for me." In a flash, the cold metal of Mjolnir was at his throat; it pressed deeply against his flesh, momentarily choking him. He gasped for breath violently and laughed maniacally when his lungs filled again. "I have desired her since our youth. What rights have you to her? You left her for a mortal."

"Why would you commit such evil?!" Thor shouted.

"To hurt you," he said simply. His brow arched. "Look at you - so outraged and incensed on behalf of your pet; it's delicious."

"It hurt her!" Thor said. "Don't you realize what you have done? I nearly…"

"Oh, I don't think she's any worse for wear," he said, sarcasm dripping from every syllable. "Judging by the way she would shout my name into the night air and dig her fingers into my flesh, I'd say she enjoyed herself, regardless of how legitimate the appearance of her desire was."

The grinding of Thor's teeth could be heard from where Loki sat. For a moment, the wayward prince wondered if he'd been too courageous with this admission. Thor held no reservations for staining Mjolnir's Uru surface with blood when the situation called for it. If there was anything Loki could do in his current circumstances to earn such a fate, he had just confessed to it.

Thor's arm twitched and Mjolnir once again pressed hard against Loki's throat. He smiled maliciously and defiantly as his larynx nearly collapsed and his lungs struggled for breath, but within his eyes, for just a moment, sparked something other than physical pain or his mad humor. For the briefest second, Thor saw something within he hadn't seen since the day of the Bifrost's destruction: sadness and loss.

Although this did not quench the fire in Thor's chest, it did cause him hesitation and just enough doubt to stay his hand once again. He desperately wanted to know the source of this reaction, so he might find just a shadow of legitimacy within the heart of the man in front of him, but the only thing he'd been able to learn from Loki in these weeks was simply that his hope was a foolish dream. He pulled the weapon back, and with a deep sigh, rose to his feet.

"Will you ever summon the strength to strike me down?" Loki asked, his humor suddenly gone and replaced with a weariness Thor did not expect.

"Perhaps not," he answered honestly. "But I have little problem leaving you behind to rot within this prison of yours. I would quickly forget what warmth you stole from her, if I were you. This lonely darkness may be your only company until the day of Ragnarok."

Loki said nothing in reaction to Thor's threat. Instead, he tilted his head, and under his deep brow, granted Thor a stare more intense than any he'd mustered in a long while. Thor met his brother's green eyes for just one moment before leaving his quarters, likely never to return. The speck of love that still existed in Thor's heart had saved Loki's life once again, but his actions had nearly cost Thor one of his greatest friends. Although he was content with allowing the dust of Asgard to bury the body of the man he loved and time to turn his mind to ash, it would take much more from him to repair the damage the destructive and deceptive Loki had done this time.

---

The next day dawned with a brighter sun than what Sif had ever thought she would see again. The air was pleasantly warm and smelled sweet like a field in spring; her heart barely felt the weight that had been so firmly in place for nearly the span of a season. The thick tension in her form was gone, replaced instead by a renewed energy. She felt like her life had been taken from her and then reclaimed, as though she'd been gifted with a second chance.

She had broken and allowed herself the freedom to weep freely once Thor had left her quarters earlier that night, a judgment on the tip of his tongue that would surely end her and everything she'd worked for. Her tears had lulled her to a restless sleep, and so she'd sensed his presence in the room with her nearly immediately when he had returned several hours later. She was barely able to utter some incensed question about his unannounced or granted return to her apartment before he'd grabbed her arms, lifting her from her mattress so he could embrace her.

The obvious question and any anger she'd felt melted when his strong frame enveloped her own, but when the apologies began to flow from his sweet, warm voice, she began to understand. Among his various requests for forgiveness was an explanation. Loki had used his linked dreams with her to cast some sort of spell, wooing her and tempting her to his bed. Thor felt he should've seen it, and so he blamed himself for her actions, and even more so for the punishments he nearly bestowed upon her in the midst of his shocked rage.

At first, Sif knew beyond a doubt that this wasn't true. She remembered the motivating pain and desire, and the process of thought that had led her to Loki's chambers night after night. The pleasure his body caused hers was surely as authentic as any other coupling she'd enjoyed. There was simply no possible way for him to have swayed her so severely; she was stronger than that. She tried to argue the truth, but Thor would not listen. Loki's scheme fell right within the realm of his devious character and his long-lasting lust for her, and it absolved her of any wrong on her part. Thor felt it was the truth and stubbornly refused to accept her confession that she had free will in her choice to share her body with him.

As the discussion continued, however, Sif's confidence in her own free will began to fade. Thor kissed her on the cheek, and as his soft lips caressed her skin, she began to doubt her own fortitude. The question of why she would risk so much for the Betrayer of Asgard reappeared in her mind, the same doubts that had often stolen her sleep on those nights making her wonder just how much of her free choice was an illusion. He might hold the power for such an illusion, and the window into her mind he'd opened might have provided an ideal weakness. By the end of the discussion, Thor's warmth and the pain of his regret that filled his eyes and voice was enough to convince her that this new revelation was the truth. She'd been merely a victim, this entire time.

After Thor had left, mumbling his apologies even as he walked out her door, she'd gone back to her bed at peace with the belief that she had merely been a pawn in a scheme. She didn't feel the anger she should have towards Loki's suspected manipulation; the relief of regaining her honor and dignity far outweighed her thoughts of the younger son of Odin and any sort of trick or spell he'd cast within her mind. Thor had given her back her sword, and with the return of her blade, her reputation in his eyes had been restored. His friendship was what was important to her. Everything else could be forgotten and abandoned to its place in the darker reaches of her memory.

With her honor restored, and the disaster of the previous day washed from her skin, Sif resumed her duties with renewed vigor and joy. She trained in the courtyard in the morning, besting her opponents quickly and effectively and serving a lesson to her subordinates and the younger guards who were in observance of her matches. Her lightened heart and clear mind allowed for an interesting afternoon meeting with her peers and the alignment of new strategies for defending the realm. Never once did her thoughts wander to the apartment just on the edge of the palace grounds, or to the green eyes that had held her so strongly in her recent weeks.

The sun set and the evening meal was consumed without mention of Loki or the events of the previous day. It was as though she had traveled back in time to the days before Thor found Earth or Jane – before Loki had revealed his wicked heart. The prince's regard of her was as close and as warm as it ever had been, and his smile, once again, seemed to contain an extra light meant just for her. She retired for the night from his table and from the seat next to his confident that she had retaken what was nearly lost. This security, however, would not last.

The dark halls of the palace had grown silent as she left in the late hour. Amidst the crackling of the torches, Sif heard a set of heeled boots following her own. The darkness of midnight shrouded her pursuer, but she already knew who it was, just by their steps and gait. Sif stopped and turned, meeting the one who sought her company in the secrecy of shadows.

"Your majesty," she greeted, bowing to Frigga in respect.

Sif should have been relieved to see the queen. Thor had certainly updated her regarding the truth behind her affair with Loki. If anything, Frigga was likely waiting to pay her what apology was due for her earlier confrontation. However, the warrior could feel nothing but continued tension and discomfort around the other woman, which caused her great confusion.

"Lady Sif," Frigga returned her greeting and subtly lowered her head. Her voice was slightly warmer and softer than when she'd last addressed her, but her posture remained straight and stiffened in Sif's presence.

The warrior swallowed roughly and continued, wondering why the weight from the previous day seemed to be slowly encroaching on her shoulders once again. "Has Thor had the opportunity to debrief you on Loki's..?"

"Yes," she said, though her interruption was softer than it could have been. "Thor entered Odin's throne room very early this morning, eager to tell us about this illusion under which Loki kept you for so many week. He feels quite responsible for not seeing the truth earlier, and has asked for our pardon and favor regarding any deception or abnormal behavior you might have displayed while being influenced by his magic."

Once again, this should've brought Sif relief, but she couldn't dispel the knot of tension on the back of her neck, neither could she meet the queen's intense stare. "I ask for none of this myself, for I should have seen it earlier as well. His spell caught me at my weakest point, and I am ashamed for how easily I was fooled."

A heavy sigh escaped Frigga's lips and she motioned to the side of the long hall, to a terrace away from the ears of the Einherjar that were on post nearby. Sif followed the queen, curiously dreading what was to follow from her lips, though she could not figure out why.

"Thor provided Odin with a rather thorough description of what Loki did to you – from the invasion of your dreams, to the continued desire you seemed to feel for his company," she started. She grew silent for a moment, and looked out to the stars as she prepared her next words. "There is none more familiar with Loki's magic than Odin; he knows more, perhaps, than the boy himself. Not all is what it seems, Sif."

"My Queen..." Sif started, though the words would not follow. She knew, somewhere inside of her, what the truth of the matter was, but she couldn't bring herself to accept it.

"There is no magic within Loki's reach that would allow him to control you as he allegedly did. The invasion of your dreams required exceptional focus and planning, and he was barely a whisper and shadow in your subconscious. By Odin's own tongue, Loki would not have had the power to beg you to his chambers night after night or to sway your mind to a significant enough degree to accomplish what he claimed."

Sif lowered her head to the ground. "Your Highness..." Her breath caught in her throat. She already knew this, but Thor's story and Loki's claim over the illusion sounded so sweet, it had blinded her and allowed her to nearly drown herself in beautiful denial.

"I have not come here to shame you," Frigga argued. Sif was surprised to feel her gentle hand upon her shoulder. "I have come here because I know what he has stirred within you that your lips so readily deny. For all the wrong my son has committed in this recent age, I would beg for someone to remember him for something different – something better. This is a side he has shown so very few; I only wish you to acknowledge it for what it was, and not for the lie he attempted to make of it for the sake of protecting you."

"Protecting me?" Sif asked incredulously. "He nearly ruined me – and found joy in revealing the truth to Thor. Such chivalry is beyond him."

"Is it?" Frigga asked. "Then why did he lie? Why did he take more of Thor's wrath upon himself for your sake?"

Sif crossed her arms. "Because he enjoys his brother's pain," she argued. "Because he is a snake who finds simple joy in sadistic games. Because he..." She trailed off suddenly; her thoughts contradicted the words coming from her mouth and her softening brow proved this.

Frigga scoffed quietly in the light breeze of the evening, reading the reaction of the other woman well. "I will leave you to your own theories," she said, "but know that I will keep mine – and that I know my son well."

The queen turned to walk away, but Sif stopped her. "My Queen – will you tell Thor of this? Does Odin – does my king think any ill of me? I could not bear..."

"My husband knows very little regarding the hearts of women and so he has listened to my counsel regarding this situation. I've told you before, you have great favor within our house. Odin would still prefer you over any woman of Midgard for his son and I have little doubt you will continue to prove your worth despite this transgression. As for Thor, there is no reason for him to know. I have seen his eyes lighten more in the last day than they have since he returned Jane to her home. He has one of his closest, most important friendships back; I have no desire to steal that from him again."

Sif nodded her thanks. There was little else she could do. Frigga left her to her thoughts, but they were a swirling haze that were making her feel odd things she very much wanted to suppress deep within her heart.

She turned to look out to the palace grounds from the terrace on which she stood. She could just barely see the faint glow of the fire of the guards standing outside of his door, and the unique outline of his oddly-shaped and angled apartment appeared dimly in the light of the stars. With great hesitation, she allowed her thoughts to drift back to the memories she had of her time with him. His body, his attentions to her, the rare moments of levity and warmth they occasionally shared when the circumstances were just right... Perhaps there was more to him than she believed. Perhaps this lie he constructed, whatever he'd told Thor, was the only thing he could do to convince her that she was more than a stepping stone or tool to use for his attempt at freedom. Perhaps those rare moments of clarity were as genuine as they seemed, revealing what were real feelings towards her.

The warrior sighed amidst her confusion as she leaned against the flowered rail of the terrace. The events of the last few weeks would never be discussed with any shade of honesty again. Both Loki and Sif would continue on with their lives, never acknowledging the past few weeks as anything but an illusion and cruel game, and would likely regard each other in no greater light than as enemies. Despite knowing the this truth, however, perhaps a small part of her still felt the same; as much as it shamed her – she missed him.

---

Just across the grounds, within his small, well-guarded chambers, Loki sat within a well of his thoughts. The magical enchantments that were binding his abilities were strong, leaving him to welter in a pool of his own increasing madness. The darkness was swallowing him, his anger and rage towards Thor and Odin were mixed with a strange sense of giddiness as he fantasized of strange scenarios for revenge.

Amidst these shadows, was a single light. A small, pinpoint of air that had suddenly appeared in this smothering apartment, and through it, he felt a faint sense of warmth and pleasant sanity that had been so very rare for him lately. He breathed deeply, focusing on it as much as he could despite the chains on his energy.

Porcelain curves, brown eyes, and a sultry smile flittered through his mind's eye. The vision was small, but it was something. A smile appeared on his thin lips, though none could see it from beyond his mask. Perhaps – not all was lost, after all.