"Loki!"

Slipping a finger between the pages he leaned lazily over the side of the balcony railing to where he could see her, "I thought you were afraid of spiders."

She laughed, "Only when they're bigger than I. Get down here. I don't want to shout."

He smirked at her, "Well then why don't you climb up? You've done it before."

"You know very well why," she folded her arms, "I'm not about to trust myself to your vine-snakes again just for your amusement." After her last attempt on his person, he'd thought it expedient to establish some form of protection. Apparently, she was fonder of spiders than serpents.

"I though you liked me," he sulked.

"Thor sent me," she said, ignoring him. "We are to go to fetch some relic from the forest. He said that you know the place better than anyone."

He sighed, "And here I'd thought you'd missed me,"

"Are you coming or not?"

"Well," Loki laid aside the book, "since Thor calls,"

Sif laughed, "Hurry up. We're to leave as soon as we can."

~.~

It was two nights later when Loki jerked upright, his heart pounding dizzily somewhere in his throat. The ground was hard, and the fire had burned away to nothing hours ago.

"Easy,"

It was Sif.

"Sorry, I didn't know if I should wake you or not."

He realized that he had his knife in his hand and he put it down.

"Are you alright?"

He let out a breath through his nose, "Did I wake you?"

In the dark beside him she shook her head, "No," but there was something odd about her voice that he was only just noticing.

"What is it?"

She made a sound almost like a laugh and smeared her hand across her cheek, "It's nothing. I was just," she sighed, "Just thinking about things that I know better than to bother."

"Have you slept at all?"

He saw the lopsided way she smiled at him in the dark, "Dreams aren't kind to all of us, are they?"

"No, they're not."

All was silent a moment, when suddenly Sif asked, "What was it that you were dreaming of?" before he could contrive answer, she continued, "I'll tell if you will," then, just as quickly as before she countered herself, "Never mind. It was rude of me to ask."

She faced herself toward the fire, and Loki pushed up into a proper sitting position. He wasn't entirely sure he wasn't still dreaming.

She had her knees drawn up and was staring at the smoldering embers of the fire. "Do you know where I lived?" she asked at length, "I mean, before I came to the city,"

Loki shook his head, he had hardly taken any notice of her before she began training with the others. When he had joined them – as he occasionally did – he had marveled that his father had allowed a girl to begin training. After watching her, though, he had thought he could understand. His hand was still shaking from the force of the dream she'd waked him from, and he was glad for the dark.

"I lived to the south. In the Barrethorp, a day's ride out from Neppstun. My father raised sheep and cows, and he had great fields of grain. I and my father and his father and all of my brothers were born there…My mother passed on when I was still small. The sicknesses that year were especially bad. My father said that I had it too, and he was so afraid that I would follow after my mother. But I didn't. I made it and he brought me with him everywhere he went after that. I helped him with everything. The nearest farm was two miles away, as the raven flies. Sometimes we would go to help them with their harvest, and they would come for ours. Every winter there was a fair in Neppstun, and we would always go. Once I saw you there," the smile she threw him seemed forced, "You, and the rest of your family. My father leaned down and whispered, 'Now that, Sif, tha is your royal family.' You and Thor were still small, do you remember?"

He could have lied, but he didn't, "We went to many such things when I was a child – my mother loved them – I have a hard time telling one from another."

"It was grand and large and always so busy. Ours was the biggest fair in the Barrethorp. Skalds would troop in from all over the countryside, and they would shout so loud for their stories to be heard that it sounded like the tales were arguing amongst themselves."

"It sounds magnificent. I'm sure if I went back that way I'd remember it."

"Not if you expected the place to bring it back," her voice was toneless, "Two winters ago, the sickness returned, stronger than in anyone's memory. You wouldn't recognize it."

He felt he should say something, but had no notion of what.

"And the next winter was so hard, that we lost many of our animals. My father said, 'Tha's alright, we'll sell our grain this summer and buy them back.' But that summer was the worst,"

She was quiet for a long while. Finally, Loki asked, "Sickness, again?"

Sif shook her head, "Fire" she took a breath, "No one knew or no one would say how, but our fields caught fire and the barn burned. Everything burned to the ground."

She brushed her hair back behind her ear and Loki saw the glittering of tears on her face.

"Was anyone –"

"No. Hardly anyone was hurt, much less killed. We had been at the neighboring farm for the day. When we came back, everything was burning. Thranstein – my brother – he ran for the well. He ran but my father put a hand on his arm, 'It's no good.' Everything burned."

She shuddered at the memory. Loki wanted to do something for her, but hadn't the slightest idea what. He felt awkward and off-center. His mother would know exactly what to do, but unfortunately, he'd inherited only some of her gifts. And while magic was pretty, he really didn't think it could help him in any way here.

After a time she continued, "We went back and spent the night at Uran's farm. They were sorry for us and they offered us all a place while we figured out what to do next. A place to live while we built back our farm. But my father," she stopped, then started again, "My father wouldn't have it. We stayed with them for three nights. Then my father and brothers went away to the north, where there was good hunting. He said they would live with the Canoi. I wanted to go with them, but he sent Uller to bring me to the palace, with instructions to meet up with him later. My mother was a friend of the queen in their youth, and he hoped that on merit of that she would offer me sanctuary," her voice was thin, "She did," she took a breath, "And every night I dreamed of the fire. They come less often now, the dreams, but they still come," she hugged her knees closer, "And its damned nights like this when I remember hunting with my father. He would take me with them when I was small. I know how to hunt. I don't know why…" She shook herself, "I'm sorry," rubbed a hand across her face, "I shouldn't bother you with all my 'tales of woe',"

The laugh she offered was shaky. Loki wanted to tell her that it was alright. That he understood. That she could talk all night if she wanted, he wasn't likely to sleep anyway. But what came out when he opened his mouth was, "I dreamed I was freezing to death."

That was entirely the wrong thing to say. He flushed. He didn't want to talk about his dreams. If she did, well and fine for her.

"Do you always dream of freezing?"

Surprised, the words came out before he had time to prevent them, "No. No, but," he was saying all the wrong things. He didn't know what had come over him, he distinctly did not want to tell her anything more, "That just seems to be the Norns favorite."

"What is it like? Freezing, I mean,"

"Cold."

The answer was so immediate and so obvious that they both laughed. And the laughter loosened something in his chest that made it easier. A part of him knew that he'd regret it, but a larger part thought he would regret it more if he didn't.

"It's cold, and hard. There are rocks all around. I can hear something moving in the distance. Whatever it is, it's large. I'm always alone," he glanced over at her, she was watching the embers. He drew his knees in closer, "Sometimes I know how I get there, or where I'm supposed to be instead, but not always. It gets colder and colder, and there's no way out of the hole I'm in. Sometimes I can hear people calling me, but usually all I can hear is laughter – deep and rough that makes it hard to listen to anything else. It echoes off the rocks and sounds like a thousand voices all in one, and I can't think right. I'm still trying to get out, even though I know it's hopeless. I'm being hunted, if the…thing…doesn't find me first, the cold will take me. Then I noticed my hands…It didn't hurt…It should have hurt, but it didn't…they were blue, like freezing, and the color bleeds up my arms and into my chest. I know that that's not how a person freezes and I try and convince myself that it's not real, but it all slows down and I'm dying and it doesn't matter…"

"Are you afraid, or do you care at all while it is happening?"

There was silence a moment before he said, "I am always afraid."

She laughed, "I wish I could be. I just watch everything burn, and I don't care, and then I wake up and I wonder if it's true. If it ever mattered to me at all."

"Well then, in that case, let's trade."

This time she really laughed.

"Fire and ice," she murmured, "looks like we cancel each other out."

He noticed how close she was. He didn't remember her being that close to him.

What seemed like a long time passed slowly by. Sif was quiet, and Loki knew he'd regret saying anything, and he was trying not to think about it. Someone on the other side of the fire moaned and turned over in his sleep.

"I've never told anyone any of that before," Sif whispered.

"Nor have I."

She looked at him incredulously in the dark, "Really?"

He was troubled by that, "Surprised?"

She shrugged, turning back to the fire again, "I suppose not,"

Loki wasn't satisfied, "Whom would I have told?"

"I don't know, you're so close with your brother, I had just assumed – I don't know – I just assumed you told each other things like that. Or mayhap your mother or father, or some other friend,"

"Certainly not my father," he said it a little too fast, and she raised her brows, tuning to him again. He chose to ignore the implied question, "and I don't really have friends Sif, if you haven't noticed."

"You have me," she offered, then, "Why not tell your family? I'm sure they'd want to help."

Loki was fairly sure that he was not enjoying this conversation anymore, "I don't know, I just don't."

He saw her roll her eyes before she started again, quiet, "I used to tell my father everything, and if he wasn't around, I told one of my brothers. But they're not here anymore."

Loki was glad to have the conversation turn back to her, "Would you tell them if they were?"

She eyed him, "No, now that I'm thinking about it, I wouldn't. What about you? What has your family done that you can't tell them?"

"I just don't want to."

"I don't think that's the truth."

"I don't want to talk about it."

"Do you know what I think?"

Loki thought she was getting too much pleasure out of this. He glared sullenly at the ground, "No."

"I think you're afraid of your father's opinions."

He tossed the blade of grass he'd been worrying at into the embers, "Do you."

"And maybe even Thor's too, but I can't understand your mother. I never really knew mine, but if I had a mother like yours, I'd tell her everything."

"She worries enough," he muttered.

"Does that mean I got it right on the other two?"

"No," but he'd said it too fast again, and he knew she'd caught it.

"You know what else I think?"

"I think that you should stop thinking."

She laughed, "I think that you're jealous of Thor. Everyone can see the way that the AllFather treats him. It's not so obvious that he ignores you, but he does, doesn't he?"

Loki was watching what remained of the fire. He wasn't condoning this conversation any farther.

"I think I'd hate my father for that,"

Loki was startled out of his sulk and looked at her.

She didn't appear to have noticed. She shrugged, "I mean, I had three older brothers. If my father had only worked with them, leaving me to teach myself the woman's way, I think that I might have hated him. But as it was..."

"Maybe he sent you here to keep you safe."

"Maybe. But it's not as I would have it."

"He is your father, Sif."

"And you're not angry with yours?"

"I didn't say that. I'm just saying that he might have left you here because he loves you. Maybe it was hard for him. He did have your brother take you, didn't he? Mayhap it was – is – hard for him as it is for you."

"You didn't see the way he changed."

"Maybe that's proof."

She sighed, "I don't know Loki. Maybe we should just both go to sleep. We have a few hours yet,"

"What," he grinned at her, "this isn't fun when it's turned on you?"

She glared at him, "You know, sometimes you earn your reputation."

"That's your way of saying that I made a good point."

"I'm going to sleep Loki."

She moved away from the fire, then paused, and after a moment turned back, "Thank you,"

She sounded sincere. Puzzled, he turned to face her, "For?"

She shrugged, "You're a good listener."

"Ah," he nodded, "You're welcome, then."

"Aren't you going back to sleep?"
"Not just yet."

"Do you want…?"

"No. I'm fine. Go to sleep."

It seemed darker, somehow, with Sif asleep. He didn't mind, he could use some peace to try and puzzle out exactly what it was she had said to him. He was bothered by much of it, and confused by the rest. …you're afraid…I think I'd hate my father for that…you're jealous of Thor. Everyone can see…You have me…

It was all too much to think about. He lay down and closed his eyes.