Loki dumped the pile of manuscripts on the floor, coughing at the billowing dust.

"What are you doing now?"

Sif came around the corner, finger holding her place in an ancient volume. The library was dim, with only the light from the windows, but it was enough for them to work by.

"Don't you think it would be easier to look at them when they were on the shelf?"

"These weren't," he dropped down beside the mound, glanced up at her, "And before you begin fretting at me – again – I'll put them all back."

She laughed, brushing back the thin gold that had slipped from her braids onto her forehead.

Loki was having a difficult time convincing himself that she was still here. It had been hours since they had begun, and she was still looking. With absolutely no reason to. They'd barely spoken before he'd toppled her in the hall, and here she was, brushing the dust off the curled paper. And she didn't know why. She crouched down next to him, a look of wonder in her grey eyes. Who knew Sif – the girl who wanted to be a warrior – liked to read?

"Where did you find these?" she asked, "I've never seen something so old in all my life."

"Well, then maybe we're heading in the right direction."

Loki picked one up and began to page through it. If Buri had written it down, there was no way for the paper to vanish. It would exist as long as the portal did.

Sif laid aside her tome, "What are we looking for anyway?"

She'd searched long enough without knowing why. "A book."

When she didn't question him further, he looked up and found her regarding him with a level look so like the one his mother gave him that he laughed, "A note actually, a note written in Buri's hand."

She cocked her head, "What is the significance?"

"It should tell how to find a secret passage."

Her grey eyes went wide and excited, "Really? To where?"

"The book didn't say."

Best to keep the rest to himself.

~.~

Sif looked up cautiously over the edge of her book. Loki had fallen silent after his last tirade, ranting about why on earth someone would think it necessary to record the particular height of each and every soldier in the Asgardian army, as well as his complete lineage before killing them all unceremoniously off in an attack during the Svartalfheim wars.

She'd asked him if he'd really read all that.

He'd said no, after the past three hours he'd begun to pick up one of Thor's less-appealing habits and scanned it.

Sif had laughed at the dry tone, and he'd just looked at her, perfectly exaggerated – as if he couldn't imagine how she could find anything he'd said funny in the slightest. But he'd only managed it a moment.

He was leaning over the book in his lap now, a quiet, concentrated look on his face.

She'd only known him a couple of weeks, but she'd never imagined him like this. He always seemed so sarcastic and cold, like nothing and nobody could touch him. The prince she'd met, was not the one searching through the library across from her.

Loki gave a snort of a laugh, snapping her back to the present, tossing the book he'd held into the growing pile beside him.

"What is it?" Sif straightened up to stretch her back. It had been a long time since she had last been standing.

Loki threw his arms up, "I give up! I swear Sif, I don't know why half of this was written."

"What now?"

He raised both hands, palms forward, like he thought she might strike him, wiping his face clear of expression, "A list – item by item, complete with portion sizes – of everything – everything – Vafthrudnir ate the day before he was questioned."

"You're serious?"

"Do you think that I would lie?"

She knew what the others said. The people in the palace said he was a liar and a sneak.

But I've seen none of that first hand.

She had paused just too long before she blurted out a negative, she saw it in his face, and scrambled to cover it, "I merely find it hard to believe that someone would really think to record that."

He shrugged, gesturing toward the book, "Anark Norfison, apparently thought it a splendid idea." But something about the gesture was forced. The easy, unstudied air he'd taken up was gone. He reached for a new book which fell to papers in his hand. He gave a sigh and began to gather them again.

Sif kicked herself mentally and tried, "Did they say what he ate before Buri showed up?"

Loki's mouth quirked, as he re-stacked the pages, "I gave up long before I got there."

"A son of Odin 'gave up'?"

He laughed then, "Don't get too surprised." He met her eyes for a split second, then opened up to the middle of the book.

Sif smiled to herself, looking back to her own pages.

Loki suddenly closed his book and laid it down. "That's it," he said, "If I have to read one more litany of heights and lineages I am going to go raving mad. You can't tell me you're still enjoying this?"

"It's lost much of its savor," she admitted.

"What were you reading before I brought all this useless mound out?"

Sif shrugged, "One of the volumes of the Volupsa, but it was past the date that we were looking for."

"Which one?"

She didn't remember and made a move toward the table she'd left it on, but Loki was closer. He rose, and in the breeze generated by his movement, Sif saw a slip of paper flutter loose from the book he'd set down only moments before.

"This one is rather recent,"

Sif picked up the loosely bundled sheets and laid them on the table, opening it to the loose page to work it back in.

"It must have been composed…" his eyes slid to her hands and snapped up to her, "Where did you find that?"

"Where you left it,"

Loki snatched the page from the book, scanning it over, face dark, "Norns," barely a whisper.

"What is it?"

He looked up, "Sif," he touched her arm, as if he needed steadying, or assurance that she really was listening, "Sif," he laughed, "you've found it."