Lady Sif (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
shield_maiden) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
marvelbox2011-12-04 12:46 am
shield_maiden) wrote in marvelbox2011-12-04 12:46 am
Entry tags:
Flashbacks
Sif slammed the lid of her small jewelry box shut with a decisive click, a scowl crossing her reddened lips as she started sorting through the mess cluttering the surface of her vanity, looking for her favorite pair of hairpins. She’d been certain she’d left them in her small box before heading out to her morning training, but now they were nowhere to be found and it was one more annoyance to add to her lengthening list of the day.
“Blast,” she hissed out, slamming a fist against the surface of her vanity as she sank down on the bench, frustration welling up within her with a suddenness and a force that for a moment, she couldn’t think. It was such a little thing, but the little things had been adding up over the past few days and this was almost the straw that was her breaking. Struggling with her emotions, she gritted her teeth, rubbing angrily at her eyes before she caught sight of the door across the room in her mirror’s reflection. It was cracked open, just as it had been when she’d returned to her room after training, something she’d taken no notice of at the time but now made her suspicious.
Her gaze narrowed as it turned on her jewel box once more, her lips twisting downwards for a moment in speculation. “Dammit, Loki,” she hissed after a moment, pushing herself to her feet and stalking out of her room once more. She knew she’d put those pins in her box, she could remember it clearly. If they were not there now, it was through no fault of her own.
Her strides were determined, almost angry as she left her own home and crossed the square, returning to the palace she’d left a short time before. She was still dressed in her training gear – a simple bound corset adorned with bronzed mail and soft leather breeches with a belted sash of deep scarlet, the colors of her father’s house. Her pale blond hair was drawn back in a braid to keep it out of her face while she practiced. She’d had no more plans for the rest of the morning beyond taking a long soak to ease her sore muscles – training had been especially brutal this morning. It always was when she was partnered against Brull. The older boy was a brute, and a strong one. What he lacked in wits and speed, he made up for in sheer strength and he’d managed to get the best of her today. She’d been distracted and slower than her usual self and she was going to sport several vibrant bruises on her ribs and arms before the day was out.
The fact that she had to postpone her bath to search out her own missing possessions was not improving her mood any.
No one was foolish enough to interrupt her – Sif within the palace walls was as common a sight as one of the royal family. Not to mention that most people were wise enough to get out of her way when they caught sight of the expression on her face. She stalked through familiar halls with a purpose, only pausing when she came to the entrance of the library that the younger son of Odin had been haunting recently. The doors banged against the walls when she stormed in, but she didn’t care as she started off down the shelves, searching for the source of her ire.
“Blast,” she hissed out, slamming a fist against the surface of her vanity as she sank down on the bench, frustration welling up within her with a suddenness and a force that for a moment, she couldn’t think. It was such a little thing, but the little things had been adding up over the past few days and this was almost the straw that was her breaking. Struggling with her emotions, she gritted her teeth, rubbing angrily at her eyes before she caught sight of the door across the room in her mirror’s reflection. It was cracked open, just as it had been when she’d returned to her room after training, something she’d taken no notice of at the time but now made her suspicious.
Her gaze narrowed as it turned on her jewel box once more, her lips twisting downwards for a moment in speculation. “Dammit, Loki,” she hissed after a moment, pushing herself to her feet and stalking out of her room once more. She knew she’d put those pins in her box, she could remember it clearly. If they were not there now, it was through no fault of her own.
Her strides were determined, almost angry as she left her own home and crossed the square, returning to the palace she’d left a short time before. She was still dressed in her training gear – a simple bound corset adorned with bronzed mail and soft leather breeches with a belted sash of deep scarlet, the colors of her father’s house. Her pale blond hair was drawn back in a braid to keep it out of her face while she practiced. She’d had no more plans for the rest of the morning beyond taking a long soak to ease her sore muscles – training had been especially brutal this morning. It always was when she was partnered against Brull. The older boy was a brute, and a strong one. What he lacked in wits and speed, he made up for in sheer strength and he’d managed to get the best of her today. She’d been distracted and slower than her usual self and she was going to sport several vibrant bruises on her ribs and arms before the day was out.
The fact that she had to postpone her bath to search out her own missing possessions was not improving her mood any.
No one was foolish enough to interrupt her – Sif within the palace walls was as common a sight as one of the royal family. Not to mention that most people were wise enough to get out of her way when they caught sight of the expression on her face. She stalked through familiar halls with a purpose, only pausing when she came to the entrance of the library that the younger son of Odin had been haunting recently. The doors banged against the walls when she stormed in, but she didn’t care as she started off down the shelves, searching for the source of her ire.
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He should let go of her hand, he thought. Before things went strange and awkward. He wasn't really in the mood for strange and awkward; he couldn't really enjoy it with his head pounding. And besides, he oddly didn't want there to be strange and awkward at the moment between him and Sif, because it wouldn't work right as a game. Not right now at least. Not as something to play with.
And yet, he didn't want to let go, either.
He split the difference and raised her hand to his lips, brushing a soft kiss over her knuckles before letting her hand go. He folded his own hands over his stomach again as if nothing at all had happened.
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"All of them," she finally managed to answer, tugging lightly on a lock of his hair again. "Concise or not. Concise has nothing to do with the fact that you talk circles around everyone. 'Tis most exasperating. Although mostly when I'm one of them."
Like now. Although this time had nothing to do with his words.
"How is your head?" she asked, deciding a change of subject was probably the wisest course of action if they didn't want to end up bickering like five year olds again. "Is there anything I can do to help?"
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He looked at her for a long time, considering the possibilities. He opened his mouth to ask a question, then thought better of it.
But she hadn't reacted badly, just then. And Loki had never been one to leave well enough alone. Carefully, as if he expected to get punched or worse, he took her hand again, but this time he brought it to rest against his cheek. He looked up at her, no mockery in his expression, just a hint of puzzlement and curiosity, like he was trying to ask a question he couldn't quite put into words.
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Sif's tone was dry, but there was nothing but truth in her words as her lips quirked in amusement at the very idea. That everyone around him probably bored him to tears most days was also probably a fact, but that was hardly a fault of his own. Still, a day when he did not leave her sputtering or speechless was a rare one indeed. She wondered how Thor managed most days, but she suspected even worse. Then again, he always seemed to handle it better than she.
She was drawn out of her thoughts when Loki moved her hand, and she watched him, gaze narrowed and slightly confused at the movement. Her fingers brushed against his cheek, finding his skin still cool to the touch beneath her hand. She wondered at the move, and what she saw in his face, because it wasn't one she was used to seeing there. She couldn't even begin to guess at what it meant.
"What is it, Loki?" she asked him softly, her dark gaze searching his face. She felt as if she should know the answer to that already, but he'd asked nothing of her and she hadn't quite caught up to him enough yet to guess it.
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His stomach seemed to be ready to tie itself in knots in a way that had nothing to do with the headache. He searched her face for any indication that he wasn't the only one feeling entirely odd, but there was no sign. Which shouldn't surprise him, he thought with a hint of bitterness, since whatever this feeling was, it was probably something every female and half the males felt around his brother and thus it would never be directed at him. Or perhaps it really was just some strange illness that went with his headache and he'd feel entirely normal again in the morning.
Though even he had to admit to himself that was silly, considering... no, it wasn't a good idea to think about that considering Sif was right there and within easy punching distance.
But too late.
Loki let out a faintly exasperated sigh, though he wasn't certain who he was actually annoyed with more. A light blush suddenly coloring his cheeks, he closed his eyes because it was simply easier to not look at her. He released Sif's hand and then sat up, cradling his head carefully in his hands like he expected it to fall off if it got jostled too much. "You probably ought to go home," he said. "Unless you really are planning to murder me."
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She reached out, her fingers at his brow, worried that he might have brought on a fever. Was he really alright?
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He covered her hand with his for a moment. "You needn't concern yourself on my behalf, lady, since I've no doubt arrived at this state by engaging in deeds both dastardly and rude." He brought her hand to his lips, pressing another kiss on the back of it. "Now if you please, I should like to succumb to the sweet embrace of death in peace."
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"Normally I might believe that, but for the moment my suspicions lie elsewhere," she answered him, her fingers squeezing his own for a moment. "Get some rest, Loki. If you die, I shall be most upset with you. Don't think you'll escape that easily. I will come looking for you."
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