Sif's arms tightened about the prince as he sagged against her but it was an automatic reaction as her attention was focused on the weapon that had dropped to the ground in front of them. Her mouth dropped open in bewilderment for a moment as she recognized it - how could she not? The mighty hammer was one of Asgard's greatest treasures. But what was Loki doing with it? And how...

Thor's babbled words, the explanation Odin had interrupted when the elder prince had tried to stop this, pieces suddenly clicking into place. It had made no sense to her before, why Loki would risk something so foolishly, not for a few gifts - even dwarven-forged ones. But if the stakes had been high enough...

Sif's fingers curled into the fabric of Loki's coat before she shook her head. She'd yell at them later for whatever stupid mischief they'd gotten themselves into. At the moment, Loki had already paid well beyond his share for it.

"Come on," she urged him, tearing her gaze away from the hammer and focusing her attention back on him fully once more. She didn't know the whole story, but she didn't need to. That could wait; he could not. Shifting, she made sure he was still supported against her before guiding them both over to his bed and easing him down on it, her hands careful, not wanting to cause him any more pain.