Discussions of: Genocide, violence, gore, Christian theology
Lady Sif receives a very strange visitor.
Rolling in her sleep was a habit of Sif's over the years, it started after Haldor...When her sleep became more restless than actual rest. It tended to happen more when she was sleeping alone and when she felt the warm sun rays hitting the slope of her back, she realized that this was not her room. On Midgard, she always made a habit of keeping her curtains closed. The tower wasn't as high as the palace was and cameras seemed to be around more often than not. And Sif didn't like the thought of people watching her while she slept. These weren't the sheets that she had grown accustom to on Midgard, they were thinner barely having any weight to them but still felt so warm. And these pillows were filled with feathers that occasionally poked out of the fabric holding them in but still managed to feel like a cloud. This bed, it felt so foreign and yet the more she laid in it, eyes closed but still very much awake the more familiar it felt. Was she...Was she home?
In the years since the Chitauri attack and the Destroyer's assault on New Mexico, alien abductions had been more widely reported. Most were false reports. Most. There were maybe a few that were real. A mistaken visit from an acanti, something more sinister from the Zn'rx (but that is a story for another day), but no, mostly they are dreams. Strange dreams that humans can't or won't explain. Perhaps the result of sleep paralysis or wishful thinking. But sometimes...sometimes that blue light in your window really is there. Sometimes it's an angel. But angels are not what you expect. Or rather, they are everything you expect and more. "SIF" a voice whispered to her, deafening. "SIF OF ASGARD. AWAKE. AWAKE." She was bathed in cold blue light that cast no shadow somehow.
Once was soft rays now was blinding light, a call of her name both soft and loud and a sinking feeling in her gut. Whatever this was...She wasn't sure she wanted any part in it. Sitting up, Sif stared at the light through the slots of her fingers an open palm facing the light while the other hand searched. For her sword. For a dagger. For anything. "Reveal yourself!" She demanded, fear lacking in her voice and determination taking it's place. If they thought that attacking her in bed was somehow going to lessen her will to survive, they thought wrong.
"THAT WOULD NOT BE WISE, DAUGHTER." The voice boomed, soothing yet staggeringly loud. Yet the room did not shake. If you had been sitting in the next room you would hear nothing. That is the trick with angels, you see, they speak to only those who need hear them. "MY TRUE FORM WOULD BE TOO MUCH FOR EVEN YOUR FORTITUDE. BUT BE NOT AFRAID. I BRING TIDINGS. NOT GLAD, BUT MOMENTOUS NEVERTHELESS." The voice was male and female, animal and man all at once. It purred and roared. It made the mind slip and hum.
"I am not afraid." She cut in, wanting to make that point clear. Startled maybe, confused definitely but not afraid. "I have looked upon the faces of gods. Who are you to think yourself too much for me?" Sif felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, what tidings had this creature brought to her? Inspite of herself, her long legs swung over the side of the bed and brought her to her feet. "I trust no tidings that come from something who can not talk to me face to face." But there was curiosity in her voice, in the way she stepped forward toward the light instead of seeing a burning bush and running. She felt the cool of the floor beneath her feet, each step forward bringing her further into the light. "What are you?"
"YOU THINK I HIDE. I DO NOT." The voice said. If a mountain could chuckle it would sound like this. "I I DO NOT THINK YOU LESS, LADY SIF, SHIELDMAIDEN OF ASGARD, PROTECTOR OF THOR ODINSON. I I I MERELY WISH YOUR ATOMS TO STAY BONDED IN THIS CORPOREAL FORM. MY COUNTENANCE IS.... DIFFICULT FOR THIS DIMENSION'S BEINGS TO COMPREHEND. YOUR PHYSICAL LAWS GET...FUSSY." The light seemed to change color. Blue to gold but still painfully, sweetly bright. "I I I I AM CALLED MANY THINGS. FIRE OF THE DIVINE. CHILD KILLER. RESCUER. WATCHER. HOLY ASSASSIN. SERAPH OF REPENTANCE. SHIELDLORD OF HEAVEN." If an ocean could lean closer to whisper a secret, that is what the voice did. "YOU MAY CALL ME URIEL. I I I I I AM YOUR ANGEL. IF YOU'LL HAVE ME." It was a strangely humble voice, despite all its titles.
Sif's voice hitched, swallowing hard as the word angel was spoken. She'd heard stories, tons of them about why the angels were cut off from the nine realms. They were said to be manipulators, twisted creatures that were once Asgards allies before Odin saw what treachery they were capable of. Child killer. Her jaw set itself as her stance shifted into something more defensive. "All my life I have been told not to trust angels. You'll say anything to get what you want." Or at least that's what she had been told. But it still left the question of what Uriel wanted up in the air, and why her? With every question she got answered it felt like two more appeared to replace it. "Blood thirsty, and violent. Do you claim that these things are untrue Holy Assassin?" She spoke like a warrior, like their was an army at her back instead of just a bed.
"I I I I I I THIRST FOR NOTHING BUT MY LORD'S LIGHT. GONE FROM THIS EXISTENCE MILLENIA AND MOMENTS AGO." Was it sadness in the light's voice? Or just the ebb and flow of tides? "IIIIIIIII AM NOT VIOLENT. I I I I I I I AM VIOLENCE. CLEANSING FIRE OF GOD. SAVIOR OF THE HEBREWS." That was definitely haughtiness. Funny to think a beam of light could be proud. "IIIIIIIIIIIIIIII DO NOT LIE. PERHAPS MY FELLOWS BUT NOT IIIIII. SMOOTH TONGUED GABRIEL. SENSITIVE RAPHAEL. SELF RIGHTEOUS MICHAEL. I I I I--" he stopped the repeated pronoun as best he could. Perhaps it was a stutter. "I LOVE MY FELLOWS AND DO AS IIIII AM BIDDEN. III BURN AS IIIII AM TOLD. I...I" It was almost as if it had bitten down on its tongue "-- ASK NOT FOR PRAISE OR UNDERSTANDING, ONLY THAT YOU WILL HEED MY WARNING THAT YOUR WORLD, YOUR REALMS ARE ALL IN GRAVE DANGER AND YOU DO NOT KNOW IT."
"Danger because of you?" Sif accused with the same fire he claimed himself to be. "Is that why we're here? You think I won't fight you unless I'm on a battlefield?" She sounded feral, like an animal backed into a corner with two choices. Sif didn't trust this, not when every fiber inside of her believed that angels were the enemy. "You threaten my world and I will find a way to end your life. That is what I am bidden. So choose your next words wisely."
"NOT ME. NOT NOW. IIIIII HAVE CLEANSED THIS WORLD BEFORE WITH FIRE AND WATER AND ICE BUT NO THERE IS SOMETHING WORSE. A CREATURE FROM BEYOND OUR WORLD, EQUAL IN POWER TO THE ONE WHO LEFT US. BUT LACKING THEIR KINDNESS. HE SEEKS ONLY PLEASURE, A CHILD IN A SANDBOX, BENDING REALITY AT WILL." The light went soft for a minute, saddened. "YOU ARE ALL SO FRAGILE. YOUR TIMELINES SO MALLEABLE. WE WILL NOT SUFFER YOU TO LOSE YOUR RIGHT TO CHOICE. CHOICE IS OUR LORD'S MANDATE AND WHAT WE CAN NEVER FULLY UNDERSTAND. HELP ME, GODDESS. WE MUST SAVE YOUR WORLD. WE MUST SAVE TIME ITSELF. PLEASE GODDESS. PLEASE."
Sif's face fell, her bias telling her not to do this. To think about it before or ask someone else's opinion first, but her gut said that if there was a danger strong enough to draw out angels...She needed to do all she could to stop it. "What will you have me do?" Her heart started racing in her chest, thinking of Haldor. Thinking of some sort of possession that might occur because of this and it frightened her. She would not be someone's play thing voluntarily.
"IIIIIII ONLY ASK YOU HEED ME. TAKE MY LIGHT TO USE AS YOU WILL. I AM A WATCHDOG. A SENTINEL. A FIRE BUILT TO BURN AND HEAT. MY WILL IS SPENT IN THE ASKING. YOU MUST FIND THIS CREATURE AND DESTROY HIM BEFORE HE RUINS EVERYTHING. EVERYTHING, GODDESS. I I I I I I I GIVE YOU NO ORDERS. I II IIIIIIIIIII BEND TO YOUR WILL. IIIIII AM YOUR SOLDIER. BUT ORDER ME AND I I I I WILL GO."
Sif thought about it only a moment longer, before she decided. "I accept." It was rash, bold and reckless but she did it all the same. Her desire to help, to fight, was carved into the pillar of her being it outweighed logic more often than she'd admit. All Sif could hope for was that this would prove to be the right choice.
The light beamed. "I I I I I AM VERY GRATEFUL. BUT CALL UPON ME AND IIIII WILL BE THERE. I I I AM ALWAYS WITH YOU, GODDESS. BUT CALL OUT MY NAME AND YOU WILL CONTROL THE CLEANSING, SMITING, SAVING FIRE OF MY LORD. WE WILL SEEK THE DARKNESS AND DESTROY IT. I I I I I I AM VERY EXCITED MY LADY." How young the eternal could seem at the right moments.
Sif caught herself smiling, stood in a dream world without her armor or her sword in what could only be described as a makeshift sheet dress. With an enemy turned necessary ally who seemed so...Giddy about the whole thing. Everything told her this was wrong, and still she was smiling. "How will you know when I'm calling you? Where will you be?" She asked, with a hand placed on her hip. "Your powers will be useless to me if I can't use them under pressure or with quick timing." Don't let yourself grow comfortable to quickly, she warned herself. Alliances can be broken in a moments notice. He seemed genuine, but so had Loki in times passed.
"IIIIIIIIIIIII AM EVERYWHERE, GODDESS. EVERYWHERE AND NOWHERE." The light flickered, as if unsure how to explain. "BUT A THOUGHT WILL BRING ME TO YOU. I LIVE FOR YOUR COMMAND. MY FIRE IS YOURS. REJOICE, IF YOU LIKE, FOR I AM."
"I will rejoice...After I see these power work." Sif announced like a child waiting for a toy to be opened for them, eager almost. Putting aside her suspicions for a moment to try and feel what Uriel seemed to be feeling. "Is there a way?"
The light flowed towards her like a river, engulfing her in what you might think of as a hug, if you were pressed to pick a word. "BUT TELL MEE WHAT TO DESTROY, GODDESS, AND HEAT WILL FLOW FROM YOU LIKE WATER."
Sif looked herself over, the glow warming her skin as she walked a couple of steps to the table. There she picked up a loose piece of parchment, looking at it for a moment before watching it go up in flames. Flames that never burned her skin even while completely destroying the paper. There was a surge of power running through her exactly like Uriel had described. Effortless destruction in the palm of her hand, she didn't know how to categorize this feeling. Is this what Ares felt when Troy was set aflame? She let the ashes slip through her fingers, this fire had found a home that would share with embers that already lurked inside her chest. In the morning, she awoke back in her room at the Tower and whispered his name just to feel if he was there.
No voice answered, but a light that seemed to come from nowhere warmed her face, like a celestial Rottweiler licking her nose.
In which two gods put on their detective hats and go solve a Midgardian mystery. And maybe build a snowman along the way.
Thor sat in the main kitchen slouched over the center island with only the glow of electronics and the moon to light the dark space. There was a dull ache in the back of his head that had nothing to do with staring at his tablet for hours. Well, mostly nothing. The product was confusing but he had gotten the basics down and the apps were satisfying even if the interface left much to be desired.
Anyway, the pain was inconsistent, lasting for hours as a dull throb or presenting as a sharp flash of pain then disappearing just as quickly. At fist he had assumed it was a symptom of his teams ill fated encounter with the Titian, but a meditative look at his person disproved that theory. This was coming from outside of himself.
Thor idly scrolled through videos about cephalopods, he was going to sneak in an octopus even if Natasha killed him, when the pain peaked.
He dropped the ipad onto the marble counter top before he could crush it as his muscles clenched in pain. It burned white hot but left him chilled to his core and his breath came out as a puff of ice crystals. He swallowed thickly, the crisp taste of ice filling his pallet.
"Ethereal One, temperature?" He managed to choke out past the lump in his throat.
"72 degrees fahrenheit, is there something wrong, Sir?" He could hear the concern in the synthesized waves of sound that emanated from who knows where.
"Nothing. Forgive me for disturbing you." Thor slid off his stool, patting down his pockets for his mobile. Ugh, where did he put that damn thing? With a little help from J.A.R.V.I.S. he found it on top of the fridge, he put it there so he wouldn't lose it, and searched through his small list of contacts.
Sif's number was near the bottom and he clicked it, smiling at the picture of his friends face stuffed with pizza. His finger hovered over the green phone, he desperately wanted to call her, but he was loathed to make her worry over him. She did enough of that already, and he could be growing crazy or manifesting ice powers! That could happen. Maybe. Okay, it was a ridiculous notion but the alternatives were less than desirable. Frost giants were invading Midgard or his brother was being an nuisance him from beyond the grave. A tiny part of him would not mind the second one....Or he could deal with it himself and Sif would never have to know.
Thor pressed the call button before he come up with something else ridiculous. Sif always found out.
It's Not As Bad As It Looks || Chatzy - Sif & Thor
In which Sif collects her wayward prince from the hospital and they go shopping.
Sif's pace was steady, walking down the halls of crowded people waiting to see if their loved one would recover from their injuries. She hardly noticed the stares, but when she did she offered them a kind smile and continued on her way. After all, she was waiting to see if someone she cared about would recover as well. "You're alive." She announced when her eyes finally caught glimpse of him. Her tone wasn't surprised, he had survived much worst but it was relieved.
Thor sat uncomfortably on the hospital bed, the plastic creaking under his weight. It was only because of Natasha's special brand of persuasion that he stayed put. These places made him so uncomfortable. He was readjusting the stupid gown they had thrust him into when an achingly familiar voice caught his attention. "Sif!" The god upon her faster than blinking, wrapping the warrior in fierce embrace. She was the most beautiful sight he had seen in ages, and he told her as much.
"Thor." Sif said the name as if it were a safety net, his embrace a comfort that she had longed for since she arrived. But it wasn't long before she was out of it, glancing him over with a chuckle. "I've seen you in many different states of dress, but this...Is a new one.
Thor chuckled and tugged again at the gown. "It is to embarrass the patients so much so that they do not try and run off. Not that it worked for me." All of his aches are forgotten in his joy and he can't keep his hands still. One grips her hand while another brushes across her cheek and tugs gently at her long hair. He had not realized how much he missed home, how much he missed her until this moment.
"Let them look you over, spent some more time in this...Robe." Sif's hand gave his a firm squeeze, and when her toys with her hair...A softness takes over her features. A vulnerability that few but he could summon up in her. "Now that I'm here, I doubt it will happen again. Asgard's future King needs to be alive in order to rule her." The last sentence acts as her shield, to make it sound like it was a duty even though they both knew better. He was her friend, they had seen each other through the worst of times and the best of times. Yet she still tried to distance herself from the fact that imagining him really hurt or worse terrified her.
"There is nothing they can do for me that time could not fix." Thor said, a warm smile spreading across his lips. He heads back to the hospital bed, tugging her along to sit next to him. "Are you here to be my minder, Sif? Keep me from egregious bodily harm? Unless it is by your hand of course." He teased her lightly. The roll of a protector was one Sif filled easily and it had always made him feel stronger knowing that she had his back. Thor leaned against her, trying to prove to himself that this was not some fevered dream, that his Lady Sif was actually here. "Does this mean you will be staying with me?"
"Minder, guardian, companion, sparing partner so you can keep yourself alert and ready for battle. Last time we spared together I had you on your back in mere moments. Let's try to see if you can last longer with me on Midgard." Sif's shoulder bumped into his playfully, her smile growing at his last question. "If you would have me." A response if overheard could take on many different meanings, this being one of the most innocent. "We've gotten into many adventures elsewhere, why should Midgard be any different?"
"That was only because I was distracted! My defeat would not come so easily now, I have learned many things over this last year." Thor must look like a fool, grinning as wide as he is. "How could I ever turn you away Sif? I wasn't able to when I was a child and my ability to refuse you anything has only waned as the years pressed on." Their conversation is cut short as a harassed looking doctor comes in to look over Thor's chart. The woman gives a put upon sigh before scribbling something on the papers and glaring at the pair. In a tone that does nothing to hide her displeasure, the doctor releases the god from her care, there are others who need this room more than him. She does order Thor to come back in a few days for a follow up, pressing her card into his hand before turning on her heel and stalking out.
"Congratulations." Sif glanced over to the doctor, watching her walk away in a huff. "It seems you've annoyed them into submission." She mused, teasing him as she stood and readied herself for wherever they were headed next. She was almost out the door before she realized it, the hospital gown still hanging on Thor's frame. "Shall I get your cape?"
"It is a skill you know all too well." Thor smoothed down his gown and plucked Mjolnir from her place on the lone dresser. "I have no idea where it is...I think the Lady Natasha took my clothes but I am not sure..." He checked under the bed, luckily his boots had not run off. "Perhaps we can purchase some on our way home."
"Lead the way." Sif instructed, following her gowned friend with curiosity. Did they accept gold pieces on Midgard? She wasn't sure, but still she was eager to find out. "I like her, the widow. Will I met the rest of your Midgard team while I am here?"
Thor takes her arm, leading the warrior through the crowded hospital halls and out into the sunlight. "I thought you would. You and her are kindred spirits, and you will meet the rest of my team soon enough." He assumes she will be staying with him. Thor excuses himself for a moment to catch a taxi. It takes some doing, but one driver is brave enough to take on the challenge. "Come Sif! I will show you the wonders of Midgards markets!"
Sif examined the taxi, tapping the roof of it suspiciously before joining him inside. Clearly uneasy she shifted around, looking out the window as they past all sorts of builds and people. She trusted Thor with her life, but her hand still lingered close to her blade...Just in case she needed to lay hers down for him.
Thor noticed her tenseness and slid his hand in hers, lacing their fingers together. "There is nothing for you to worry about, Sif." He offers her a comforting smile. She always worries about him and he loves her for it, but he wishes she would let him shoulder her burden for a while.
Markets normally have bandits, Sif wanted to say. But who would try to rob the armed maiden? Sif had that problem, relaxing didn't come as easy to her as most thought. Celebrations after battles were times she could unwind, but that was because she knew the enemy was dead or worse. Whatever hurt Thor...It was still out there. That made her a bit uneasy. "You're right." She said, leaning into him. "I'm just excited to explore."
"And I am excited to get out of this gown." It was lucky that Thor grabbed his compression shorts from the other day when he dressed for battle. The tiny pockets still held the plastic cards for money and identification. He fishes them out when the cab stops in front of a shopping centre and pays the fair. Thor ducks out of the cab and stretches, ignoring the looks he receives for his less that appropriately attired state. "Come Sif, You can pick something suitable for me."
"I doubt Midgard has such a thing." Sif muttered under her breathe, but still followed loyally on his heels. Once inside she glances around at all the colours, fabrics and styles. Nothing looked like the attire of home. And the store seemed to be cut into sections she didn't understand. "This is far more complicated than war."
"A number of things are more complicated than war. War is simple, kill the enemy and try not to die while doing it." Thor headed for the men's section, stopping along they way to admire a delicately woven sweater or poke at a puffy party dress. "The separation between genders is much more apparent here than it used to be. It's strange but you will get used to it with time."
"Midgard is strange." Sif thought aloud as she browsed the aisles of endless clothes, collecting whatever caught her attention and handing it to him while a very confused sales assistant watched with awe. "Is Midgard hot everywhere?" The two places she had been had both been so warm, and looking at the attire in the store prompted the question. Everything seemed short, or light, or see through. "Is it an eternal summer?"
Thor trailed after her like a lost puppy his arms laden with clothes. He was far to busy watching her to pay attention to what she put in his arms. "No there is no eternal summer, but we are close to the equator which is the reason for the temperatures. It is colder in the north, but no where near as cold as Jötunheimr."
"Thank the gods for that. Could you imagine surviving in Jötunheimr wearing this?" Sif asked lifting up a bandana they were passing off as a shirt. The pile in Thor's arms seemed to grow and grow by the moment, Sif didn't hold back for a moment and when she was finally finished, she turned on her heel to face him. "Now to call over a seamstress and get these fitted."
"I bet that I could survive just fine in that. I have been told my many people that I radiate heat like a furnace, yourself included." Thor shifted the pile in his arms, peering around it at her. "I am afraid that that is not how this works..." He really should have been paying attention to what she was picking up..."The clothing is made in different sizes, you try on many of the same thing until you find one that fits."
Sif glanced over her pile, she had every size from the biggest to smallest. "Well, among that selection I'm sure you will find something that fits your form. And between the fire of your passion and the size of your ego, you could survive any winter." Teasing him, Sif called to the very uneasy looking sales assistant who pointed them to the change rooms.
Thor couldn't hold back his laughter at that. "You tongue is as sharp as ever. One would think you would be kinder to me given the length of my absence." He would have clutched his poor broken heart, but the clothes prevented such dramatics. He shoots a charming grin at the poor associate who skitters off as soon as they are in front of the changing rooms. "Will you join me? Or would you rather wait out here?"
"One would think." Sif echoed, a smirk forming on her face. "But one who knows, would know that my tongue never dulls." Sif stepped forward choosing the change room door behind them. Standing out there would have been awkward, and it's not like she hadn't seen it before. "Come on, that gown can not be comfortable."
"I have seldom worn worse I must admit." Thor pulls it off, letting the blue and white excuse for a gown flutter to the floor. Next come his boots. "Do you ever miss the chance to poke at my poor ego Sif?" Thor riffles through the pile of clothes, tugging on a flower pattered shirt and doing his damndest to wriggle into a pair of jeans.
"Oh please." Rolling her eyes, Sif couldn't help but peak at the battle worn body of her companion. Each muscle formed from a fight or preparation for one, it was something she respected and admired. "Someone has to keep that poor ego of yours in check. Otherwise who knows what could happen." But they both did know, pride-among many others was one of Loki's biggest problems. Sif sorted through the large pile again, looking a the flannel in her hands she glanced back at Thor. "Is the mo-is Lady Jane staying at the tower aswell?"
Thor gives up on the jeans and trades the flowers for the flannel. He likes the plaid stripes better. "No. Jane has her own apartment, but she does come by to work on science with the others." And if he flexes a little under her gaze no one has to know. It's not wrong to show of assets that are hard won. "How is everyone back home? Hopefully they do not worry over much for my sake."
"They are well, Asgard is safe and protected. I left a note saying I would be here if they needed me." A short easy way of saying Sif came without telling anyone, other than her brother who hadn't exactly been supportive of the trip. "You said you were fine...Then I arrive and you're in a hospital. I think you need to reconsider the word fine." Sif's jaw set for a moment, she had aided Jane on Asgard but only for Thor. Her loyalty to him would make her do a great number of things, but it was clear to her that her loyalty was to him. Not to Midgard and she doubted it would ever be.
Thor personally felt that "fine" was a perfectly adequate descriptor of his state of being. The bruises were all but gone and ever since Sif arrived the ache in his bones receded to a mere memory. He may not have been in top form but it was a far cry from what he looked like after that farce of a battle. It warmed him to hear the worry in her voice, the amount of people that actually [i]worried[/i] about him was few and far between, and the number grew smaller with each passing year. He was so grateful to have her, to have someone who worried over him because he was Thor, not because he was The Crown Prince of Asgard. "I'm sorry to have worried you so. If I could help it I would, but danger can't seem to quit me."
"You can't seem to quit her either." Sif retorted, keeping him in line. That love affair was far from one sided, even if Thor didn't want to admit it. "You all but courted war once." Once...She felt a dull ache in her chest that she swallowed like a hard pill. "At least the battle is over for now. Although, I'm curious as to what enemy could walk away from battle with you and your team." She asked leaning against the locked door with her arms folded over her chest.
"I was foolish." And that is all Thor is going to say on the matter. Conversations such as these were not suited for public dressing rooms. "It was a enemy I pray we never have to face without preparation again. You've heard of the Mad Titian Thanos? It was him cloaked in death and wielding the Infinity Gauntlet. What is a god compared to that?
Sif's face dropped, worry flowed her features and so did a bit of anger. "Oh well, fine sums up that situation perfectly then." Sif shook her head, before handing him another thing from the pile. "You were lucky." She was thankful, under all her snark and fury, she was infinitely thankful.
"I was extremely lucky and my team mates more so." Thor tries on the next article with no complaint. The once large pile has split into three, untried clothes, rejects, and items he wants. "I was late to the battle as well. I'm glad no one seemed to notice."
A part of Sif wanted to ask why, but the part that didn't won out. She stepped forward buttoning up the jean shirt she had handed him, just to make herself feel a little more useful and to let her eyes rake over him once more. "I like this one. It brings out your eyes."
"And they are my best asset." Thor drew her into another bone crushing hug, unable to resist given her proximity. "I really am glad you're here." Midgard was making him emotional, it must be the air or the heat or something.
Sif felt herself sink into the embrace, surprised by it at first but his touch always had a way of soothing her. The hug however was interrupted by a very confused manager, who thought they'd be walking in on something much different than a hug. "I think we might be taken longer than they imagined we would." Sif whispered to Thor, perplexed by the stranger's look of shock.
"Did they not see the mountain of clothes you forced upon me?" Thor whispered back. He put a bit of space between them and gave the manager a politely confused smile. "Did you need something...Jeff?" The man stuttered something mostly unintelligible about separate rooms and family establishments before the man apologized for the interruption and went back to a group of giggling employees who where watching the whole thing. "I think we should wrap this adventure up." He suggested, a grin pulling at his lips.
"I think so too. I'll wait for you outside." A laugh escaped Sif's throat as she stepped out of the change room, and smiled over to the employees. "You must show me the palace you've been staying in, and the man of iron. Was he forged here on Midgard? Or does he come from Nidavellir?"
Thor fished out a pair of dark pants from the pile and finished getting dressed. "It is a mansion not a palace. They do not have royalty in America and very few of the lines survive in Europe." Thor put the rejected clothes back on hangers and went through the pile of untried things, picking out whatever was in his size. "The Man of Iron was forged here by his own hand. It is armour unlike any on Asgard, and it's powered by something with similar energies to the tesseract." He comes out with a bundle in each arm, handing the pile of rejects to a sales associate. "it is a genius piece of engineering."
"America." Sif repeats so she can remember the term, imagining the suit in her mind. "And what of the man inside the iron? If he forged it with his own hand, he must be remarkable."
"That he is. Anthony Stark is the closest thing to royalty they have here. He does not govern but is mater of the technology guilds. I have not met another like him" The two made their way to the checkout counter under the watchful eye of the manager.
"So you two get along then?" Sif followed on his heel trying to get as much information as she could before she met everyone.
"We do!" Thor grins as he hands over the tags for the clothes he's wearing and his credit card. "She acts as our minder, it's amusing. And she has this way about her that inspires fear..."
"So far, I haven't heard a name I should be weary off. But I don't blame them for enjoying your company." Sif watched the credit card, biting back the comment that it seemed like an odd form of currency. It could be easily stolen or tampered with, and what effect would heat have on it? It was all new, all strange, expect for the one thing that actually mattered. He was there.
"Such complements Sif! I might just swoon if you keep this up." Thor shoved the credit card back into his jean pocket and grabbed the bag of neatly folded items. He slid his free arm around Sif's waist as they head out of the store and into the shopping centre. The amount of people was low given the time of day but this was a good thing. The less people there were to stare at Sif the better.
"You? Swoon? I don't think I'd be able to recognize that even if I saw it." Sif chuckled, leaning into him as they walked. As she glanced around at the people their she noticed that the majority of Midgardian women were...Short. Well, at least shorter than she was and definitely shorter than Thor. She thought Jane might have been a one off, but being among them she felt a bit like a giant and wondered how wide they're eyes would expand if they actually witnessed a real one. "My brother sends his regards."
"I'll have you know that I can do a fantastic swoon. I learned it from the Greeks." Thor found the perfect pace for their mall stroll. Sedate enough to take in the sights, but never dropping to an approachable speed. He knew that he was easily recognizable, and most of the time he enjoyed the attention he got from the populous, but today his attentions were to be focused solely on Sif. Playful flirting with giggly Midgardians could wait. "How is he? I never realized how much I would miss our conversations until they turned one-sided." He was itching to ask about his father, but at the same time he was plagued with reluctance to do so.
"Heimdall is his normal, usual self. Careful what you say though, he might hear you." Sif teased, her relationship with her brother was fine. But she knew he cared for Thor almost as much as she did. She just wished he wasn't so aloof when it came to her. "Your father is well." She said as if reading his mind. "I saw him shortly before I left." She wouldn't tell him of her mission to Earth, she had a promise to keep and even though she hated not telling Thor...She knew there had to be a good reason for it.
"That...that is good." Thor cleared his throat as he struggled to keep the sheepish expression off of his face. How did Sif always know what questions he dare not ask? It was equal parts annoying and comforting that someone could know him so well. "He has sent me a staggering amount of paperwork but very little about his well being and I am not sure how to ask..." Thor tightened his hold on Sif's waist, drawing comfort from her familiar presence. Without his mother to act as a bridge, the delicate relationship he held with his father all but crumbled in his last weeks on Asgard and his attempts to mend it were ignored. "But let us talk of other things! Has anything caught your eye yet?" He had never been accused of being subtle.
"You can ask, Thor." Sif said in a soft voice that was meant to be comforting. "I understand." Thor's mother had meant a great deal to Sif. It was the first time she shed tears in public since the day she filled all of Asgard with the sound of her cries. Her tears weren't spent on anyone, but Frigga had been the exception. "What do you mean?" She asked with a false confusion, wanting to see his squirm just a little.
"Other than my lovely person of course." Thor's words are in jest but the warmth in his voice is very much real. He knows that he is not the best at vocalizing feelings that lay on the ah...tinder side of the emotional scale, but he hopes his actions make up for it. She is the only person (other than Loki) who had any idea how much his mother meant to him, and having her close brought a sense of peace he had not known he was missing. "I know I am a wondrous sight Sif, but you must have been looking around."
"The only person I have been looking for is you." Sif answered honestly. "But now that I've found you." She dramatically glanced around, stepping a little further from him to see what he'd do.
It took a great deal to make Thor lose his words, but Sif had the uncanny ability to leave him speechless with her carefully divulged honesty. His teasing inquiry had been turned back on him and he fought down the surge of possessiveness that clawed at his chest. "I never knew you to be the fickle sort." He invaded her personal space, threading his fingers through hers in an explicit claim of her person.
"Am I fickle?" Sif asked placing herself in front of him and walking backward with her hand still laced with his. "Or just bold?" Sif asked with a raised brow, and the same cheeky grin she had when she playfully mocked his grand entry into the palace what felt like a lifetime ago. She halted when the air filled with the smell of melting cheese and pepperoni. "What is that?"
"Bold. Definitely bold." Thor's attention was fixed solely on [s]his[/s] [s]the[/s] [s]raven haired goddess[/s] Sif. There was this fluttering in his chest that he had come to associate with the power of her smiles and the leasing lilt of her voice. She had always given as good as she got in there banters and her unwillingness to back down was what drew him to her in the first place. (Overhead there was a roll of thunder that was as soft as a sigh). It took him a long moment to actually process her second question and even longer to realize what she was talking about. "That would be pizza, one of Midgards finest achievements." His stomach growled. "You will love it!" He took lead this time, tugging her along after him like when they were children running off into the orchards behind the palace.
Sif kept his pace easily, years of chasing after him had prepared her for such things. Whether it was in the orchards, in the fields, or in battle...She was never to far behind. And although they had both had adventures of their own, the battles they fought together were countless. "Alright, alright, I will try it."
The credit card made a second appearance in the bright pizzeria when Thor ordered a large of every pizza he thought Sif would like, from pepperoni to artichoke heart and olive. It may have been a bit excessive in hindsight, but if Sif's fist pizza experience was to be in mall he would make sure it was the best mall pizza ever.
"Shall we take these back to the tour? Share them with your team?" Sif Asked
"I'm sure they would appreciate the gesture. Though I would try them before hand, pizza never lasts long enough to cool at the mansion." When their towering order arrived Thor carried carefully balanced the stack of pizza's to a taxiing cab and they headed to the manor with their bounty.
Natasha had given up on being a hero for the day. Stein surveillance was boring, her Osborn sting needed to lie low while she waited for the little prince to respond and Bucky was sulking in his room. It was the perfect time to make good on her offer to Thor's friend for a holiday. She slipped on a cutout one piece and coverup. No matter how much Steve teased her about her self consciousness, she hated the scar his best friend had given her and she'd never chance him seeing it, even in passing as she walked out and down Tony's strange modern stairs to the hidden beach below.
She entered the main media room to find the Lady Sif, knowing she would likely be there conversing with the television. Whatever instruction she'd be given in the Red Room about psychosis, the Asgardians always made her training obsolete. From Thor's penchant for exploding appliances and playing lightning tag with Pietro Maximoff to the look of wonderment that washed over Sif's face when any electronic whirred or beeped, Natasha couldn't help but smile watching them interact with what technically was a primitive world to them. (Though they certainly demonstrated a penchant for feudal customs that felt outdated to her Soviet raised heart. "We freed the serfs." she remembered her Papa saying, or at least she though she remembered. "There are no serfs any more. No kings or princes. The table has a seat for everyone.")
She wondered whether she should call Sif "Milady" or not. Opted for the easiest route. "Hi." She let her smile widen. "It's so nice out today. Did you want to try the beach?" She nodded out the windows to where the water could be scene. Though their home was still perched on the cliff that Aldrich Killian had decimated last Christmas, the surrounding views maintained the old elevation of Stark Mansion, giving the illusion the home was perched on the rocky outcropping instead of bolted to it out of Tony's paranoia. "It's down below. Just a bit of stair climbing to do. Do you have a suit?"
Nat sighed, noting Sif's armor. "Stupid question, sorry. Come on over to my suite we'll find you something that won't weigh you down in the water. So we can fight sharks." she added with a little wink. Sure she was the master behaviorist but the Asgardians were remarkably alien. Well at least, the good ones were. She'd met Loki before. A thousand times. She'd even had to sleep with him, or rather someone like him. He was just a much older version of the boogeyman she knew so well. She took Sif in one more time, remembered the compliment the goddess had paid her when she'd first arrived: that Loki refused to speak of her. The Asgardians had a way of making everything they did seem noble. Natasha had never really gotten to be a child so in some ways watching Thor and Sif interact felt like watching a fairy tale she didn't know. But how she fit into the legend she just couldn't say. "What's your favorite color?" she asked, turning for her apartments and hoping the warrior would follow.
