Loki tried to dodge the book, so it hit him in the shoulder instead of in the face. He scrabbled the book up from the floor as it fell, his face a picture of wounded dignity and outrage. "This is why warriors shouldn't be allowed in a library!" he shouted. "You're horrid! Look at what you did to my book!" A few of the pages were a bit bent. "It never did anything to you!"

And then she called him Prince, but in a tone that made it a slap in the face. After which she tried to storm out, which was just not going to do. Loki was the master of dramatic exits. He wasn't about to let Sif steal a march on him, not when he hadn't even done anything.

He stalked after her, able to catch up because his legs were just that much longer than hers. The book was still held in one arm like a shield. With his other hand he grabbed her by the arm. "Now look here--" he started.

And then he caught sight of her eyes. And tears. Which he could only presume he'd been the cause of, somehow, and that felt like being stabbed in the heart. Because he was used to needling Sif until she yelled at him and punched him, and that was alright. That's how he dealt with Thor as well. But tears meant that something was truly wrong, that wounds had gone from imaginary to real.

His face went pale, eyes wide. Lightning fast, he tried to work out what was wrong, but he didn't have enough information and he didn't know how her mind worked quite well enough. Though he could at least think of a few possibilities. "Your father is a fool," he said, voice gone quiet and intense. "And you'd be a fool to listen to him. And I know you're not a fool, at least not when it counts. And if I took your bloody hairpins - and I'm not saying that I did! - it would be because I know you don't really want to wear them at all and I think you are prettier without them."

His lips snapped shut. He really hadn't intended to say that last thing, it had just sort of escaped with all of the other words. He hastily released her arm.