Thor 1. Day 01- Holding Hands

"Stubborn."

"I am not, Sif. I simply do not despise the cold as you do."

Sif allowed the corners of her mouth the turn up at Loki's bull-headedness. It was a rare weekend, being that the two had no pressing matters to attend, and thus took the opportunity to camp together at a beautiful lake far enough from the city as to truly be alone.

At the moment, the couple was lying by the fire they had set up. It was nighttime, the Asgardian stars shining brightly above them. The air was sharp with the scent of the pines that surrounded them, the rush of the lakes' waters providing a soothing backdrop.

"Just because you do not hate the cold does not mean it feels the same. The cold will make you sick as easily as anyone else."

Loki snorted, turning his face so he could view Sif. Both were settled under the same brightly woven quilt, bodies barely touching. The flamed reflected light off of Loki's pale face, making the angles of his face appear sharp enough to cut. As Sif was positioned with her back the fire, to Loki she seemed to be glowing with an orange radiance, her brawny and constantly sun-burnt skin softened.

Her brows furrowed together as she reached a hand forward to trace the outline of Loki's face, Sif drew in a sharp breath. "Your skin is like ice." Raising an eyebrow, the mischief god quipped, "That might be my heart, actually."

"Very funny."

As consolation, Loki took Sifs' hand in his, sliding long thin fingers in between Sifs. Silently the two looked into the others' eyes, the air between them heavy with unspoken vows of love. Sif allowed her thumb to softly rub back and forth on Loki's hand, his eyes closing with the comfort of her presence. Quickly he grew drowsy from the warmth of Sif's body and fell asleep, she not long after.

The lovers awoke in the same way, hands lazily attatched.


	2. Day 02- Cuddling

Sif found him lying curled into a ball amidst the piles of fur they had on their bed. Clutching his left arm strangely, his green eyes stared unblinking at nothing, obviously deep in thought. Kicking off her boots, Sif crawled onto the bed next to him and cuddled to his backside. For several long moments they stayed like this, air thick with the stress of the days' events...

_...Thor's banishment after Jotunheim._

"He will be back, Loki." Sif felt his back muscles tense as she spoke. "And in the meantime, Thor is very capable. You need not worry about him being in Midgard-"

"-of course you sing _his_ praises." Loki regretted the words as soon as they left his tongue. "Ah," Sif breathed, "is that what troubles you? That the woman who has shared your bed, has cared for you after your temper tantrums," she spat the words, "secretly pines for your brother? Have you no faith?"

"Enough, Sif." The words came out deflated.

Sighing, Sif pulled on Loki's tensed arm, "Come, love. Tell me what is really troubling you." Flipping over, Loki wrapped himself around Sif's waist, head rested against her chest. He listened only to her steady heartbeat, a reminder that she was the one constant in his life. The warrior pressed soft kisses on his forehead, gently tucking short raven locks behind his ears. Eventually she felt his muscles give, and he completely melted into her, their soft breathing in sync until Loki's breath hitched.

"Hey," she whispered, nudging him with her knee. "Speak."

Loki smiled a bit at her bluntness. One of the many reasons he loved her.

"On Jotunheim today..." he flexed the muscles of his left arm, the vivid memory of it turning blue still fresh in his mind, "something happened." Sif's eyebrows furrowed together,

"Continue..."

Loki's lips parted and eyes squeezed shut. Pressing his forehead into Sif, he held her tighter. "Just...assure me of something."

"Yes?"

"That you will love me even if I am not what you think I am."

"And what exactly would that be?"

"...A monster."

"Oh, Loki..." Sif shifted so she was face to face with Loki. Pressing soft lips onto anywhere she could, his forehead, cheeks, lips, Loki laid silent and soaked it all in, unbelieving of Sif's seemingly unconditional love. "You are a son of Odin, you are no monster..."

And with that, Loki let out a quiet sob that Sif did not understand, and perhaps never would.

In the morning, the mischief god found his muscles aching from clutching Sif so tightly.


	3. Day 03- Watching a Movie

"Turn it up."

"You had the remote control last."

"No, Jane has it. She needed the batteries from it." Sif raised an eyebrow. "I know you can turn up the volume without the remote."

Loki rolled his eyes, but complied. Waving his hand, a short flash of green light appeared, and the movie playing on the television in front of them was suddenly audible. Satistfied, Sif offered a smile as thank you, leaning back into his arms. Currently they were staying with Thor and Jane at a little log cabin in Tromsø, Norway, gifted to the astrophysicist by S.H.I.E.L.D. Settled deep in the middle of a forest, the ground outside was covered in fresh snow and the air sharp. The cabin inside, however, was just the opposite. A hot fire maintained by Loki's magic burned in the hearth, effectively heating the whole house and giving it a quaint smell, along with the various array of strongly-scented candles Jane kept lit to help keep her stimulated during long nights of working.

The two were settled on the couch in front of the television, _The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey_ playing out before them. Thor had whisked Jane off to go Christmas shopping in the nearby villages, offering for Loki and Sif to join them, but the couple declined. Loki felt quite uneasy on Midgard, even though it had been several years since his "incident" in New York. Here, however, he felt more at home- almost moreso than on Asgard, considering there were no guards keeping a steady eye on him, nor bitter reminders of Frigga. Loki and Sif stayed here frequently, actually, ever since Thor and Jane eloped.

Sif allowed a small smile to play on her lips with the memory.

"I'm not sure this part is supposed to be amusing," Loki chuckled.

"Oh," Sif shook her head, "I was thinking of something else." Focusing on what was happening onscreen, she frowned. A man all in brown was frantically trying to heal a hedgehog. "Is it going to die?"

His eyebrows knitted together, "I doubt it. I believe Radagast is going to revive him."

The couple silently watched as the wizard chanted a bit before removing the witchcraft from the animal.

Sif prodded Loki in the ribs, perhaps a bit more harshly than intended, causing him to wince. "You have seen this before, have you not?"

Huffing a stream of air past his lips, Loki shook his head. "No, but Midgardian tales are easy to predict."

"How so?"

HIs shoulders moved up and down. "The good men always win, and the evil pay for their deeds." Sif tensed slightly, and Loki felt it. Both knew what the other was thinking. Memories flashed before their eyes, memories of dark years Loki lost his way, years of silence and hostility and coldness. Sif felt her eyelashes grow wet, but blinked rapidly to shun the approaching tears. It was not often this past was revisited, as in the grand scheme of their lives it was but a fraction.

Turning her face up at Loki, she squeezed his hand with hers. "_You_ are a good man."

Loki gave pause, painful thoughts still apparent in his eyes. Hesitantly he craned his neck towards Sif, planting a soft kiss on her hairline. "You believe so?"

Sif nodded her head firmly. "Now, yes," she stated, with heavy emphasis on the _now_.

The corners of Loki's mouth turned up slightly, and he nodded back to the screen, indicating clearly he didn't wish to speak of it further. Sif obeyed his wishes, allowing herself to become immersed in the movie before her.

"Love?"

"Yes," he sighed.

"I will be requiring a sled pulled by a team of Rhosgobel rabbits this Christmas."

"Mmhmm, of course, darling."

Sif grinned, while Loki's stomach growled as visions of rabbit stew danced in his head.


	4. Day 04- On A Date

**Sorry about that, guys! I've re uploaded it now :)**

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Sif sat sprawled on the tiled floor of her bathroom, a full-length mirror carefully propped up in front of her against the porcelein sink. Loki and Sif were currently staying in a small studio apartment in New York City, desperate to reinvent themselves. Or at least, Loki was. Sif had come along with her lover for the sole purpose of supporting him as he searched for new meaning, away from Asgard and everything familiar, instead choosing to get to know the very city he had once terrorized. He still slipped, but Sif knew he was trying, for her and his brother, and so she was proud of him.

Sif gazed at her reflection, gingerly running her hands through her now-blonde hair, still damp from rinsing out the bleach. Her new sports bra was littered with stains from the messy process. She drew a ragged breath and tried to convince herself that her locks possessed the same sun-kissed beauty they had a millenia ago.

Tears filled to the brim as she realized her attempts had been futile. The ends of her hair were now brittle and breaking off, the texture dry and straw-like. With a sigh, Sif pulled herself up and scrounged around for the dagger Loki kept in the medicine cabinet. Stubbornly, he refused to use Midgardian razors as she now did, insisting instead to use this hand-length blade that he had enchanted to never cut him. At first she had believed no such enchantment existed, but alas, never had she seen his smooth complexion marred with a nick.

"Umph," she grunted as boxes and bottles carefully balanced on the shelves scattered across the small space, one tube of ointment landing with a plop in the toilet. Digging through the mass of products, her hands finally found the knife. Turning it over in her palm, she could feel a humming, a sort of energy coming from it, the same tell-tale energy that marked all the objects Loki enchanted. With a huff she sat back down in front of her mirror, boxes of bleaching kits scattered around her. Carefully, she gathered her waist-length hair into a low ponytail at the nape of her neck, and then gripped Loki's knife tightly in her fist. Holding her hair firmly in one hand, she hacked off the length in one fluid motion and let the ponytail drop to the floor. Setting Loki's dagger back where she found it, she shook her head, letting her now chin-length blonde hair swing freely. The damage was all gone, and Sif breathed a sigh of relief that her spur-of-the-moment decision wasn't a complete tragedy. The feeling of was oddly satisfying, she decided, and would be much easier to manage during sparring times.

Should I ever return to Asgard.

Sighing, she shrugged out of her ruined garments and slipped on leggings and a thick knitted maroon sweater, something she had picked out for this very occasion. Tonight, the two were going to go ice skating in Central Park, upon her insistence. She had wanted Loki to take a boxing class with her, but decided against it before even asking him, instead going by herself while he did who-knows-what gallivanting about the city. She knew he visited counselors, something Thor had suggested, but what else Loki never disclosed to her.

Damn, I'm late. Quickly, she pulled on her boots and grabbed her phone, shooting Loki a message she would late to meet him at the rink. Hesitantly she gave one last look at her reflection, hoping he would like her new look.  
...

Easily moving through the crowds, the tall warrior ignored the stares of those surrounding her and focused instead of finding her date for the evening. She knew why they stared; Even in Midgardian garb, her beauty was still almost a tangible thing, despite the fact she was a goddess of war. Choosing to ignore them, Sif searched over their heads. Finally, her eyes settled on the beautiful man who towered above those he stood by. Clad in black, he wore a simple green scarf, his long wavy hair brushed backwards into a small ponytail, with a few rebel pieces falling out around his face. He was standing at the edge of the rink, skates on already, and in his hands he had a pair in what Sif knew were her size. Quickly, Sif darted through the crowds and approached him from behind, tapping him on the shoulder.

He threw a quick glance her way, ready to dismiss her before he did a double take.

"Oh, Sif, I-I almost did not recognize you."

She felt a small pang in her stomach but offered a small smile anyways.

"I hardly recognize myself."

Reaching forward, Loki tucked one side of her hair behind her ears, studying it carefully. Sif set her jaw, slightly uncomfortable under such scrutinization.

"It isn't the same shade as before," he whispered softly.

"On the box, it-it looked the same. I followed all the instructions, I don't know why it did not work."

Loki frowned, eyes squinting as he examined her. "Why the cut though?"

Sif shrugged her shoulders, tongue leaden as she remembered she forgot to rid the bathroom of her mess.

"Why? Does it look bad?" Sif demanded, eyebrows pushing together.

He simply shaked his head in reply. Sif scowled.

Internally cursing herself, and Loki for his reaction, she snatched the skates from his hands and yanked them off, tossing her other shoes under a bush instead of taking the time to put them away properly.

Awkwardly, Sif walked on the skates to the entrance, watching as Loki elegantly glided over to her, his coat blowing in the wind, and offered his hand. Grasping it reluctantly, Sif stepped onto the ice and pushed off with a single stroke of her muscular thighs, still holding onto Loki. She nearly dragged him behind her, refusing to allow him to catch up.

After a couple of strokes, Sif glanced at Loki, miffed to see he was beautiful even when struggling to skate beside her. Grinding her teeth, she did not stop, skating her disappointment away. The couple made a few rounds of the rink this way, New Yorkers staring at the odd angry woman pulling the familiar man.

Finally, Loki wrenched his hand free, veering off to the side. Sif turned around in one smooth motion, coming to a stop right in front of him. His mouth was set in a thin line, and Sif felt heat color her cheeks in shame.

"This was your idea, not mine, and I do not know what your problem is, but-"

Any regret she had vanished. "Oh really? You have no idea?"

He threw up his hands in defeat. "Really, Sif. I haven't the faintest. You drag me here, you insist on it, and then give me the cold shoulder, acting like a child."

"You are the cold one. I come here, you don't even greet me, you just," Sif felt her throat tighten, "ridicule me and stare as if you had lost all affection for me, as if I am now a stranger to you because of my physical appearance, you-" She stopped suddenly, hearing her own words. The two were quiet a moment, listening to the happy cries of children around them and friends chattering. Looking up at him through thick eyelashes, she found him staring at her with a far-off look.

"I- It just...it reminds me of when we were young, before I cut your hair, before it all, I never-I never even apologized, did I?"

Her mouth hung open, and she shook her head softly. "No, I suppose you didn't."

Silently the two held eye contact. Finally Loki stepped forward and pulled Sif into his embrace. Pressing a soft kiss into her hair, she closed her eyes and breathed in the woodsy smell of his cologne.

"You are still beautiful to me," he whispered, "but the color on you- all is I see is the Sif I knew before I betrayed you. Before all this mess."

Shaking her head in agreement, Sif smiled sadly. "I know. I don't know what I was thinking, I suppose I just grew bored," her breath grew hesitant, as that admittance got Loki's attention, "I feel like I'm at a standstill, being in Midgard so long."

She felt his muscle tense against her, his breathing grow sharper. He pushed her out to arms length, looking her in the eyes. "Sif, this is my journey. I do not want my growth to hinder yours, if Asgard is what you need-"

"It is," Sif interrupted, tears filling her eyes. "But I also need you."

Loki's eyes filled with despair as he struggled to find a solution.

"I suppose we have some things to work through," She whispered.

"I suppose so."


End file.

Thor, Fantasy, Romance