“Sure…” The word left tired as she reclined her head. He had a good point. In their state, overtalking didn’t look like a good idea. Still, it was something that she seemed to be insisting on. Sif had heard that she talked a lot, before. But it never stopped her from doing anything else at the same time. And she wasn’t doing anything but feeling the pain in a lot of places of her body. And perhaps, talking was her way of keeping her mind a bit occupied so maybe she wouldn’t focus much in what she was physically feeling.
Why exactly he could not heal himself was a mystery to her. All the magic in her was what she was born with, as vanir. But she had never been studious. Sure, she could teleport herself and mayhap others. But that was all and it took a lot of herself already. The goddess would rather travel through the bifrost her brother guarded than her own magic.
Of course, she had friends and a brother that would miss her. And for them, she should keep herself alive. But that didn’t mean she wouldn’t die for Asgard if necessary. That was DUTY and she would not run away from it. “I’d miss you.” That was not the time to be sentimental, but there she was. “Thor isn’t as fun to bet with. He always loses, especially when drunk. It is not as entertaining as it was in the first century.”
The battlefield went quiet. That meant it was over. Perhaps it was finally the time to go home, but his reaction could not mean a good thing. “What are you talking ab–?”. She stopped as she glanced at where there was a battle not long ago. “Fuck.” What about T h o r? There was an abrupt panic in her, one that she put aside so she could think clearly. He shouldn’t be dead, he needed to be alive. But if he wasn’t, she needed keep the other heir ALIVE. “We need to go.” Her good arm held his shoulder. “Heimdall bring us back. Now.” Please. Don’t make me do that myself.
“No, I have an illusion cast over us, you-“ But it was too late. The light engulfed the and, moments later, Loki tumbled out into the golden chamber of the Bifrost. “Idiot,“ he finished. “Goddess of War!” Loki gestured grandly at Sif, from where he’d fallen, glowering up at her. Heimdall said nothing in reply, not until Loki turned his cold gaze to the gatekeeper.
“Did you intend to fight them alone?“ Heimdall said, with reason that was nothing if not condescending.
Loki pushed himself to his feet, a hand against his side. “No, I had a plan that less resembled suicide.“ He wavered, glancing over to Sif and seeing past his anger to the stain on her armor, “You’re bleeding again. You’re useless until it’s tended to properly. Go. Heimdall, prepare the Bifrost for another trip, we won’t be staying long. And send word to my father that I’ll be arriving shortly to select soldiers from the palace guard."
He strode towards the opening of the chamber, each step firmly placed before the last in a firm determination not to... not to waver. Fingers gripped against the wall. The rainbow bridge stretched out before him, closing to a point in the distance. The colors shifting. Moving. He hit the floor, hard, on his hands and knees.
A cough sent drops of red against the golden tiles.
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