Fic for lilacsigil: The Other Me | Maria/Natasha/Sif | PG-13
Title: The Other Me
Author: nightswhisper
Recipient: lilacsigil
Rating: PG-13
Universe: Mix, primarily movie
Pairing/Characters: Sif-centric. Natasha, Peggy, Maria, Frigga. Various others. Maria/Natasha, Natasha/Sif, Maria/Natasha/Sif, Peggy/Jane, brief mention of others
Word Count: 8500+
Disclaimer: I do not own, or take claim, to any character within! I'm simply borrowing them for a little while.
Summary: "How easily had this world forgotten me? Perhaps it was I who had forgotten it." After being framed for a crime against the throne, Queen Frigga offers her an alternative to exile. One that will change who she's been groomed to be and help save Asgard from the foe that has been working in the shadows. AU.
Warnings: alternative relationship structures- may be disagreeable by concept
Notes:: I didn’t have the time I would have liked to expand this universe to focus more directly on the requester’s individual likes and more character interactions. Sadly, time is my enemy. Though I will gladly expand if this does not suit the request. As it’s AU, I’ve done my best to adjust histories, professions, and personalities. I hope these directions are suitable for the reader.
It was just as she had remembered it. Walls of marble reflected back gold accents that spread like roots from the trim and the warm autumn sun that spilled in through arched windows. The breeze, a tad cold to be comfortable, drifted in and sent the curtains dancing. Trinkets of absurd value lined her dresser. Silk hung in a canopy above a bed with a mattress so soft it was like a blanket itself. It was a sharp contrast to the metal walls and slightly stagnant smell that accompanied the underground bunker that had served as her home for nearly the past three years. The theatrical life that filled the common areas of the dwelling just down the hall was nothing compared to the bustling streets that adjoined the common district to the market that the tunnels gave way to. The rigid simplistic furnishings of bare necessity made the luxury she had been accustomed to seem gluttonous.
The room had been preserved perfectly in her absence. Not even the lantern that Sif had sent splintering to the floor in a moment of panic as she had been awaken from her bedchamber and rushed before the King’s court had been collected. It was as if she had ceased to exist.
Tentatively she sat down on her mattress, gazing at the place that used to be her sanctuary. How hard had she fought to be back here,in this room. How had she longed for the favor of her King, her Queen, Betrothed, and Kingdom itself? Now that her birthright had been reestablished in the aftermath of the national tragedy, she found herself just as unsettled.
Had her world changed so much? Had she? It was true she was not the same little girl who had left the court screaming and in tears as she was accused of a crime she had not committed. Her parents barely recognized her-- not simply because of the alteration to her hair. Sif had become someone beyond the personae she had learned to adapt in training. She had seen things she had never dreamed of and done just as many. It was true that she was always strong willed, nearly stubborn, if not ambitious. She could out run a deal of the boys and had even shown some promise with a sword-had her father permitted it. But she had been content in the role that life had given to her.
There had been much she hadn’t known in her sheltered upbringing. She had always known Asgard to be one of the more liberal kingdoms of the Nine. She had thought the civilians and sorcerers were comfortable with the Gifted who governed their lands. Their rules were just, even flexible. Few other realms allowed the mixing of classes and genders. Sif’s mother often had marveled at the thought of a civilian chancellor to council or that women might too sit in power. Those of Th Gifted, and common blood, The Civilians, both found places in matter of political and domestic service. There were even some women with position in the guard. Much of the progress had been at the urging of Queen Frigga herself. So even if there was some disagreement between the three major factions, surely there should have been comfort in the promise of progress?
For the most part this was truth. What scandals Sif hadn’t imagined were the mixing of classes without designation of title. She hadn’t known of those civilians who dealt with science, something she learned to be more terrifying than magic, in a way that challenged all concept of power. Sif hadn’t known that there was such hate for people like her, or that she herself could be such an effective warrior. Sif hadn’t been prepared to come to know comradeship, that attitudes and habits that were dubbed savage to high society could mean life or death. They could even enhance a person. She hadn’t known hate and dependance nor that they weren’t necessarily exclusive in reality.
Sif did not miss her ignorance. And though the thought of her prior narrow ambitions made her flinch now, she did not regret who she had been. It took the collection of one's experiences to form a person. She would not deny that she held a fondness for parts of her old life. The ornate masquerades, the light hearten rides through the distant woods during summer retreats, the courtesy, drunken lords tales that were far more ridiculous than children’s stories, were blissful nostalgia. Her betrothed was another matter of complexity in her mind that she hadn’t the time to contemplate since her return.
By the same token, she was proud of who she had changed into. The thought alone made her laugh into a space that echoed as if to mock her confidence. If someone had projected that she'd feel this way that night so long ago she would have called them mad.
Heaving a sigh she flung herself back onto the pillows. She starred up at the ceiling through the drapes as she ran through the events that led her to this place. It had all been so incoherent in experience.
The night she was brought before King Odin and Queen Frigga several court guards reported that they had witnessed her within the royal treasury and that she had taken a now missing orb that was said to contain the type of magic only forged in ancient times. She had protested but when one of the king's closest advisers, as well as one of her father's friends, broken heartily confirmed her identity she had lost her battle. Nothing could convince the court otherwise.
She should have has suspicions when she heard others whisper of an epidemic. Not so long ago an accomplished member of the king's guard, Carol Danvers, had fled the kingdom after being prosecuted for the destruction of a central entry point to the palace. Clearly there was a growing fever among the Gifted women. Sif had been too distraught to notice it until she had been seen as a criminal herself. She had been so confused. Her state of mind hadn't improved when the Queen came to her that night in her cell.
Frigga had believed her, she affirmed in hushed tones. Just as she believed that Carol had been innocent. She knew both girls quite well, she insisted although Sif had never met the commander, that the accusations were entirely out of character for them both. There had been a brief hope for Sif that this were a pardon. Instead, the Queen implored her to take upon a quest. Frigga desired Sif to help unite the city and uncover the usurper amongst her kind. She could not refuse her Queen.
From the shadows Frigga had called out a name. A woman who Sif had never before laid eyes upon came as called, nonchalantly, appearing as if she had always been there. The Queen introduced her as Natasha. The girl automatically reported to Frigga on the positioning of the guards. They hadn't given her escape much meditation, clearly, as the woman with flaming hair suggested courses of action to Frigga in the moment. Sif didn't understand the logic, only that she was to go with Natasha and that she was not to be seen. Not here, or the streets. Which meant a disguise.
Frigga herself apologized after she nodded to Natasha. Sif nearly cried out when she felt the other woman behind her, hearing the song of the knife just moments before it sliced off a good length of her hair. Sif's instinct for silence was the only thing that kept her from crying out at the sight of the hair around her face as it shifted like flowing ink tainting her golden strands to ash.
Sif couldn't recall her passage to the headquarters. Now that she knew Natasha, she wasn't sure it was due to her hysteria at the time or the Spider's talents. If given the choice she'd pick the later. Either way, by dawn she had been introduced to a place that would become her home. Headquarters, known in code as the tunnels, was a network of bunkers buried beneath the capital of Asgard. It was home to a group of women hand selected by Frigga to preform tasks she could not, in good faith or safety, ask of courtly persons. Women, especially those not perceived to have a gift, could move about with greater ease than men. It was one advantage the current imbalance of equality had given them.
It seemed that while the Queen was content in her role as mother, confidant, and figurehead she was a protector and nurturer first. The complication was the network of children. The populous was hers to guide. Her husband may pass law, but it was her spirit that added the heart. When whispers became dangerous to those under her reign she had to act as any mother would. That meant this very team.
Where Sif had once been a centerpiece at court she now stood out for entirely different reasons. She had spent four days in her room, barely responsive. She overheard from her door a rough and frustrated voice she did not know. Sif recognized Natasha's voice as she said with brevity that the Queen had asked them to have patience with her. The independent spirit Sif prided herself kicked in. Straightening out skirt she went to the door.
That was her first encounter with her commanding officer. She was short and clad in breeches with short cropped hair. Maria Hill took every comment that was thrown at her in defense with an unimpressed neutral expression. Sif could have sworn Natasha was hiding a smile as the former courtly centerpiece lashed out.
“Are you done?” Maria asked in a tone that made it clear she wasn't accustomed to being passive when being spoken to in that manner. “Then report to the conference room in an hour.” It was the first command Sif had ever been given. It wasn't the last.
In the common room there was a small group. The essentials, as a woman she'd later know to call Darcy, had called them. Commander Hill had given the initial introduction of the group. It flowed into well kept woman briefing Sif about each member and their task ahead. In the meeting Sif took in names, gathered impressions, but it wasn't until later that she would learn about them personally.
Where Maria was in command of the tunnel's residents and general correspondence with the Queen, she was a pure civilian. She didn't have a drop of the Gift. Maria had worked in the service and was chosen for her clear organizational, strategical, and leadership skills. Sif would later discover that she had worked under Danvers at one point. Maria could be short tempered and couldn't tolerate foolishness. But she was fair and had a bigger heart than she'd ever let on.
The second command of the order who led the introductions was Margaret Carter. She was an observant woman with sharp eyes. Sif had the impression that she could be fierce if need be. Her stance gave her away as military as well. Sif recognized her accent vaguely as being a Midgarddian variation. One of the more distant realms, advocates from any of Midgardd's territories were rare. Too frequently they were busy settling their own disputes to pay attention to world politics. How such a small place could be fractured so, Sif would never know. She had always been told Midgardd was the example of allowing civilians to govern themselves.
Captain Carter was accompanied by a civilian out of uniform who eyed Sif with distrust. Jane Foster was an associate of the order. She didn't desire a position. From the report Sif gathered that Jane was a nurse at a civilian hospital. Her true form of relevance was that she saw to the connection of several safe houses for those who might fall under undue suspicion or prosecution.
Darcy's introduction was followed by a small half salute clearly mocking her environment. Of all those present she was the only one who seemed to be at ease nearly lounging in her chair. Sif recognized Darcy's last name, Lewis, immediately. Darcy's father was one of the privileged civilians who worked within the gifted's courts as a representative of the people. Darcy was following her father's footsteps in following political structure and communication at the university. It was an opportunity not available to most civilians who kept to their own trade education.
The last unfamiliar face in the room belong to Janet Van Dyne, who instantly insisted she be called Jan. Or, by her codename, or by her codename “Wasp”. Like Darcy she seemed a little more relaxed but maintained her posture and formality. Her family name rang a bell though the fallen Gifted could not place it. She was an associate to the group like Jane. She showed much more enthusiasm offering occasional operative support. Her primary function was a uniform and disguise designer. She also brought them into connection with Hank Pym, who was unavailable to attend but Sif was told was their primary researcher and technology developer. The thought sent shivers through Sif's spine.
Technology, science, was viewed as archaic to Sif's society. The Midgardians relied heavily on it. It was a practice that had lost its appeal after the gifted had been bestowed their strengths and magic had been reintroduced to the kingdoms. It was viewed within the capital as a serious threat. It didn't hold the same natural truths and limitations as magic. Even the greatest sorcerers were bound by their strength. Technology was constantly developing and even resistant to some barriers and safeguards designed by the paladins.
Commander Hill turned to Sif, explaining that the request for her involvement wasn't just a plea for sanctuary. She would be expected to assist in the organization. Being from within the courts gave them an advantage they hadn't had. Imitation on of identity and Intel were excellent. But Sif had been exposed to many key players on an extended basis. Knowledge of what Sif might see as basic, common even, places and things might prove invaluable. Her status and placement would be determined according to her training.
Sif was dismissed so that current matters could be discussed. She was sent off with Natasha, the woman who had rescued her. The redhead, who was considerably shorter than Sif, informed her that she'd be in charge of the first part of her training.
“A change of hair isn't going to fool anyone. If you want to help us, your Queen, and find the person who framed you, you're going to have to work at this.” She said flatly, though not unkind.
The traitor. The person who had sent her here. Sif hadn't thought of that crucial part of her predicament. Much to Sif's surprise anger rippled through her, stiffening her limbs. She had been lost in her bewilderment. Rage finally occurred to her. How could this happen? How could she let it happen? None of this could stand. She was innocent.
“There are people here who think we're babysitting you. From what you've shown them we are.” She stopped, gathering Sif's attention away from her anger. “Lets get this clear. You're stronger than a civilian. You have all the common strengths of your kind. But to them you are a spoiled princess who's pouting because she can't go to the ball.”
“I'm not--”
“Yes. You are.” Natasha ignored Sif's gasp. “You don't have to be. You can be one of us. You can learn to control your own life. To not let yourself be dragged away, and become an equal to those around you. Not just here, but up there.”
Sif contemplated the offer. She wasn't sure she liked this group of people. Civilian majority aside, as it really wasn't an issue, there was a structure here that was overly rigid. Then again this was their work. She had seen hints of another side, of family, in their sense of familiarity that lingered even in regiment. What was more, they had power. They had a way to reinstate her.
“What do I have to do?” Sid squared her shoulders attentively, even though her stomach flopped at the possibilities that laid before her.
Natasha, as it turned out, was a master of interception. She was able to mingle with any crowd and infiltrate the highest security areas-sometimes with a little support from the outside. Sif was astounded how she could change herself and become an entirely different person with the same features in a single blink of her eye. She had mastered many accents and vocal inflections. Natasha's mannerisms shifted seamlessly from one to the other. Sif knew from the start such falsehoods would never be her strong point without magic itself. She admired Natasha's skill.
In their time spent together, Sif came to consider her trainer to be her friend. She had learned, to her shock, that Natasha's father had been gifted. He mother was not. It was a forbidden union. The result had lengthened Sif's lifespan and increased her perceptions to a lesser degree. Most of her talent laid in training.
In addition to disguise, Natasha schooled her in linguistics and in different methods of thievery. She also made a point that being a female had a great many advantages. Men thought more often with their lower brain than their upper-an organ easily manipulated. The thought made Sif blush. That was one aspect Sif had been rigorously cautioned of. She was a woman of status. Such things were important. Her discomfort nearly made Natasha laugh.
“It's not just men you can use these tricks on.” Natasha insisted. “There are a number of women I've drawn information from. Vital information. It's also not just sex. Given time you can learn to tolerate and encourage any personality.”
“Is this how you are so comfortable with commander Hill?” Sif inquired casually as they finished their training one day. She had often noticed them together. Both were increasingly aware of the other's presence and thought. She had seen a brush of hand or a half nod bring great ease or concern. It was an intriguing connection. There were some stark differences between the two. Natasha's sly sense of humor hardly seemed in line with Maria's agenda. Likewise Maria's insistence of honesty seemed awkward with a woman who built her livelihood on lies. Yet their connection was clearly deep.
“I'm comfortable with Maria,” Natasha seemed to not be concerned with formalities, “ because I'm committed to her.”
“You've sworn your fealty to her cause, yes.” Sif started to nod in understanding. Loyalty was everything.
“I have, but that's not what I meant.” Natasha had always been patient with her for reasons Sif didn't understand. “She's my partner. My lover.”
Sif's toes squirmed in her shoes. She had heard of such things, of course. Times of war and separation of partners led to certain bonds being formed. In these whispered truths there was a certain romanticism that had always been endearing to Sif. While such relations were acknowledged, it was generally expected that such things should be forgotten at the end of conflict. True they had assignment, but Sif didn't sense this was the reason for her trainer and commander's affair.
“It's common knowledge. Our quarters are the same. It doesn't give us an excuse to be unprofessional.” Natasha made no apology or accommodation for the flush in Sif's cheeks.
“I didn't intend--”
“I know.” Natasha smiled as if she had known they were likely to have a conversation like this.
“Are...are there others? With, such tastes I mean. Here.” She mumbled over her words. Natasha looked like she had a new toy.
“Peggy and Jane have been involved as long as I've known them.” Sif simply nodded. Margerate, Peggy to her friends, was her secondary trainer and would be responsible for her later grooming.
“If this makes you uncomfortable we can avoid sending you on any particular mission that might require you to--”
“NO!” Sif's head shot up. She swallowed her words before stumbling on.“No. It's not a problem. If it's required of me, then I will do it.”
Natasha didn't push the issue that day. For her part, Sif was at ease with the information. Which was precisely what bothered her. Shouldn't the idea be slightly more upsetting, or at least foreign, to her? Instead she found herself to be curious.
After leaving Natasha's morning practice and obtaining lunch Sif's routine took her to the unit's second in the chain. Her initial evaluation of Peggy had been quite right. She was firm but a willing teacher to those who didn't underestimate or criticize her instincts. She was in charge of tactics and weaponry. Sif had watched enough battles and even played around in jest enough to know of traditional gifted weaponry. She had even shown a talent for them. Natasha was teaching her close combat. Peggy was in charge of less prominent forms. Guns, knives, gasses. Midgarddian tools. They felt blasphemous in her hands. But they weren't in the home battlefield or against other kingdoms. This armory was full of things for stealth, concealment, and a socking efficiency.
“You really don't like us, do you?” Peggy inquired when the look of resign crossed Sif's face at seeing the gun.
“I find you most agreeable.” Sif was confused. “Have I given you an unfavorable impression?”
“I mean, you don't like Midgard. Not with its people. But you're reluctant to take on anything from there.”
“I don't trust it.” Sif admitted. “I trust you. But all of this... this is...is....a terrifying art. It's an advantage--”
“And people of my corner of the world would call magic the same thing. Your court has its sorcerers. Your greatest defenders are protected by enchanted items. Most of which are an even greater danger than a firearm. Many of my people believe your magic suppresses our growth. They live in fear of it.”
“That's nonsense! The gifted don't assert--”
“But they don't know that. They don't see it.” Peggy spoke as she demonstrated how to clean the firearm. “ When I first came here I believed all the stories. That's not to say this system is perfect. I'm not sure there can be one that is. But there's more compassion, sensitivity, than Midgardians give Asgard credit for. Unless, of course, you cross them.”
Over their time together Sif had learned that Peggy had come to Asgard in exchange for Carol. She had been accepted at first by her recommendation from the former unit member. She earned it by saving Maria on a rather horrific accident transporting an artifact back to the Queen. For all her success there had been a hole to fill and Peggy had ambitions that couldn't be met in Midgard. She had studied philosophy and strategy in the central University before joining the order. It was where she had met Jane, another civilian whose parents had come to Asgard to make their own fortune.
Jane often showed up near the end of Sif's training sessions. She hadn't warmed up to Sif despite the former aristocrat's attempts to be civil. Peggy asked her not to take it personally. Jane hadn't been very warm towards gifted Asgardians for a long time. Her experience as a Midgardian descendant hadn't been pleasant though her partner refused to speak more on the subject. Sif didn't inquire further.
After a few months of training, Maria concluded Sif was advanced enough to run a few smaller missions. She partnered her with Darcy to run a few errands throughout the lower city. It was important for her to start forming bonds and connections. Due to the nature of their objectives they had to be discrete-but it also meant that their contacts had to be equally as cautious. They didn't have the luxury of royal sponsorship.
Darcy was the most talkative of the agents-when the mood struck-- and the most laid back. She was quick to make friends with the locals almost as easily as Jan. Though the later was more out of respect. That wasn't to say Jan wasn't likeable. It was more that there was an innocence in Darcy that was hard to deny. She had a dry humor that went well with many citizen’s tastes. Sif was appreciative of their choice to partner them initially. It was wise to have her face associated with the other.
When it was clear that Sif was picking up the trust of the general area she was sent on her own to retrieve messages. Gradually she was sent to deliver them to areas that were increasingly monitored as she gained experience. Then she was sent out of the city, into the surrounding villages and towards the woods. Though she knew her clearance was on a consistent rise, she couldn't help but feel somewhat frustrated. Hadn't she been meant for more than a courier?
“Patience.” Natasha tried to sooth her when she found Sif in the training room at an incredibly late -or early-- hour. Natasha had a fresh slash across her upper arm, visible by her elevated sleeve, and a bruise above her head. Sif's look of indignation made Natasha smile.
“It took me a year before they let me out of these rooms.” She confided. “Granted I was...procured..as an enemy.” It was well known that Natasha had once moved security information to those who would have unfavorable intentions for the crown. It was also known within headquarters and the court that it was she who stopped those she had sold the information to from executing their attack. It had earned Natasha her pardon and this secret position.
“It's just....every day I'm here, it feels like there's no progress! Every day the person who framed me is getting further and further away. There's nothing I can do about it. I don't even know if you know who it was! What I do know is little more than street gossip!”
Natasha contemplated Sif's grievances. “Maria would kill me if I told you anything. I can tell you that the rumors of arrests within the advisory council are true. That a new guard detail is being assigned before the king enters his time of rest. I can tell you that her majesty can confirm that one arrest is false and that we're now certain we're dealing with a person who can create illusions, delusions, or a rewrite memory.”
�ur contact was a bit sloppy in their research. The last person they framed was with the Queen at the time of the crime. As such they were pardoned.”
“Who was it?”
“Lady Amora. It seems that she came to the Queen's aide when she explored the sound of breaking glass at the time of the crime.” Natasha watched as a scowl formed across Sif's face. “I don't believe you'll like the rest of that story.”
“Tell me.” Sif ordered with conviction.
“According to one report, in order to thank her family for the service, Amora's younger sister Lorelei has taken your place as the Prince's betrothed.” Natasha watched Sif's back slump. It was an aspect of her old life she had never discussed.
Sif sat down to the bench wit a sigh. “It doesn't surprise me. The sisters have always gravitated towards the royal sons. It's a worthy ambition. Though I'm surprised Amora didn't seek the title herself. Then again, I doubt she could ever be settled with a man.”
“Maybe we should find her a woman, then.” Natasha sat beside her, nudging her with a shoulder in an attempt to lighten the mood. Instead she found Sif's head on the pesky shoulder as she mumbled a 'perhaps' under her breath.
Natasha turned her head, tucking Sif's hair out of her face and pulling her closer. It wasn't a gesture she'd encourage but it was something she felt Sif needed at the moment. She sympathized with her restless behavior. “You don't live that life anymore. Her ambitions are not yours. You can find a partner of your own choice now-not one that has been handed to you because you were born to a certain set of parents.”
“He was my friend, though I'm sure I irritated him to no end.” Sif said sadly. “I cared for him in spite of my circumstance. That's hardly the issue. Now I just wish I knew where I stood in this world. What's expected of me. Things were simpler then.”
“Boring.” Natasha corrected. Sif smiled and nodded in agreement.
For comfort or impulse, Natasha raised the other's chin to look at her directly. Sif had come to trust her. The gesture wasn't shocking. It had been a surprise when she found herself being kissed by her instructor. It wasn't totally foreign. There had been parts of her training that required her to prove certain basic seduction skills. The difference was that this was not training. Sif pulled away the moment she realized what was transpiring.
“You are spoken for.” Natasha, for all her talent, could not decipher what emotion fueled the observation.
“Don't concern yourself with that.”
“I certainly will!” Sif's back straightened instantly. Natasha smirked.
“My relationship with Maria is built on trust, on dependence, understanding, honesty, and the communication of all these things. Not on monogamy. At least, not in the strictest sense of the word. Maria is the partner I choose for my life. My job requires me to show affection to others. I will also outlive her should we see the end of our natural lives. It would take much more than a kiss to destroy us.”
“That...” Sif flushed her pulse not quite evened out. “Felt like more than a kiss.”
“It could be.” Natasha reached out to take the other's hand, raising it to her lips. Sif didn't pull away.
Her head was spinning. This certainly was not something she had been ever told was appropriate. A partner was a partner. But Sif had also seen her share of charmers. She had seen men flirt with others when away from their homes with the ladies in her social circles. Natasha's words held none of their poisonous lies that they fed her former friends.
“She might even approve of this.” Natasha led on, her voice cloudy. “She and I have welcomed others into our bed. On occasion.”
“M...May I consider this?” Natasha didn't respond verbally. She placed a chaste kiss on Sif's cheek and nodded before exiting. It was a tender gesture Sif hadn't registered before. She was more accustomed to the serious refined actions of Natasha in mission mode.
Sif didn't have time to think. The next afternoon she was called to a briefing in middle of her training session with Peggy. There was reportedly a trade set to happen. One of one of the missing items from the palace was said to be on the black market. Darcy would be posing at a patient at the clinic Jane volunteered at for strategic positioning. Sif would take the guise of a medical doctor from within the city visiting. Darcy would be monitoring and feeding them with instructions. Jane would get her close to the scene. Natasha would be standing by to trail if Sif gave them confirmation.
Excitement and anxiety rippled through Sif. It was her first chance to really prove herself. To test her skills. Her nerves were causing jitters to echo through her body. Jane was clearly less than impressed with being paired with the novice. She was sharp with her instructions and standoffish. her lip. She had dealt with the woman's cold demeanor on and off for about a year regardless of how kind she was to everyone else.
“Lady Fost--”
“Ms.”
“Ms. Foster,” Sif corrected herself. “I do not know what I have done to offend you, but I would like to be able to conduct business with you in a manner that does not make me me feel like I am the enemy.”
“Aren't you? “ Jane tilted her head. “Look, let's get this straight. I don't like you. I don't like people like you. Just because you happened to be born on the right side of a gate, and have some sort of extra strength and power, doesn't give you the right to shut out others. I was never allowed to pursue my passion-how could a commoner ever have the capabilities to understand such a concept? And despite my efforts I still have to work three times as hard and fight against the aristocracy crap where you can just smile a pretty little smile and slip by.”
For all her strength, Sif stepped back as Jane stepped into her space. She could feel the anger rolling off the other woman.
“Sure you work hard. But can you tell me that there's a single reason you're doing this other than to get back to your plush little world and forget all of us out here who are subjected to whatever whim you people up in some pretty little palace feel like following?” The comment made Sif pensive for a minute. She hadn't thought of anything beyond her revenge. She didn't have time to mule over it before Jane continued. “So no, you haven't offended me personally. But until you realize you can't just swoop in here and be entitled to something, I have no reason to respect you. Show me we're more than just another tool for you-then we can talk.”
“Until then I plan on doing what needs to be done. Nothing more. If that's unacceptable to you, you can walk right out that door.”
Sif stayed in place.
The mission seemed like a routine trail. Sif followed every protocol that was embedded into her brain, staying immersed in conversation with Jane, nodding to several medical explanations and asking appropriate questions as they walked towards the apothecary. They made their way past the target and into the building, working their way up to the floor to the storage attic. There was a window that gave them an ideal view of the drop site. Their height negated any side blocking that may have occurred from subtle gestures or a body passing by.
Thirteen minutes later, to Jane and Sif's surprise, two forms exited a portal in the alleyway, and approached the antsy recipient. Confirmation over the comm link-one invention from Midgard Sif could approve of-- that Darcy had two systems recording the exchange. One was from the diagonal from their location. The other was across the street. The collector was male, thin, and clearly nervous. The two forms had nondescript cloaks. But size of the wrist and hand that reached out Sif assumed they were female. The second pulled from her person a dagger with a hilt of gold. Sif almost yelled for Natasha to move until she caught the pattern of colors on the blade. They were too far to catch the detail of the shape. But Sif recognized the pattern of the decoration around the hilt as the royal sorcery's emblem. She informed her coworkers of her suspicion. They were given orders to pull out.
There was one problem with missions. They were not textbooks. They wasn't a set of ideal outcomes and written out possibilities.
While exiting the shop something caught Sif's eye. There was a glow coming from the alleyway even though she had watched the buyer pass her three paces ago. Working with the flow of the crowd she made her way over against Jame’s subtle protests. From around the corner she saw three things. First, the dagger still was in the hand of one of the woman. Sif's head whipped the other way she saw the man with a stick in his hand look up back towards the corner. Turning back Sif saw the portal-the cause of the glow they had seen from above. Thirdly was a strain of long blond hair falling in front of the hoods. One of the forms stepped through. The other stopped and started to turn. Sif drew back quickly only to find a first coming to her face.
She stumbled back a few steps out of surprise rather than action. The man was a common born, who even at full strength couldn't manage to hurt her to any real extent. Her skin was thicker. Her healing rate was faster. As someone skilled, he could hold his own for a little while. Especially with the help of weaponry. He also seemed to think she was in league with the pair that had just cheated him out a significant amount of money. He looked familiar, but it was something she pushed back into her mind as she evaded his attacks.
He hadn't come alone. The knife that nicked her leg made her aware of the other men. When at least the numbers had been revealed she managed to herd three of the four into a corner before Natasha arrived as back up and promptly knocked out the fourth. With help of their contacts the group was brought back to base.
“Are you okay?” Natasha took a hold of Sif's arm wiping the glassy look of routine focus from her eyes.
“I know who it is. The thieves.”
“You're positive it's them?” Maria looked skeptically across the table from Sif who nodded.
“I've been with them my entire life. There is no other with such power or ability to construct an alibi.” She replied.
“It would explain why the guards thought they saw her in an attempt.” Natasha offered.
“One stayed by her Majesty. The other was enchanted to be in her sister's likeness.” Peggy analyzed.
“Do you realize who we're implicating in this? I can't take this information to her majesty lightly. Not so soon after she's given them her blessing.” Maria laid the social issue out on the table.
“All the more reason to. It's a right of motive.” Darcy offered.
“It's more dangerous than that. The Enchantress and her sister are not fools. They have power. And the felt me. They didn't see me, but they will be cautious now. They know that someone has caught scent of them specifically.”
Sif's statement had been prophetic. Slip ups were harder to come by. When informants started disappearing that unease began to grow. The tension in the capital spread out from the palace into the streets. The royals had done well to conceal their problems. Once the news broke panic began to occur. Social anxieties arose causing those who were gifted to breech the good will they had broadcast and in some cases become more firm in the expression of their capabilities. There had been a rift between Jan and her father's old apprentice, Hank. The unit affiliate and scientist were known to be in a strained relationship. Their various views on current events didn't help. It left the organization in a shorter supply in their defense and armory as they were the chief designers.
It wasn't until Natasha was captured that they realized how deep they were in. The agent was missing for nearly three weeks before they received a tip off on her location. She had broken away from her captives but was being pursued. Maria joined Peggy and Sif moving in to the last reported location deep within the forests that lined the city. They arrived just in time. Amora and Lorelei hadn't send paid goons in alone this time. Tracking creatures that were three times as strong-a decent challenge for even Sif's natural strength-- and twice as persistent had their scent.
Natasha was running on empty, looking much worse for wear. She held her own as best she could. Anyone without her skill would have been dead long before that point. It took the remaining three women to destroy the creatures and secure the area. Maria quickly helped Natasha up to her feet calling to Sif as she felled the last of the beasts. “Take her.”
“I can do this. I don't need--”
“Romanov, shut it. You've been through hell and she can move faster than any of us, save you. If I help you we all fall behind. Those creatures are gone, but they won't be the last they send. If we want to make it back we can't do it as a unit.” She thought through as she equipped Natasha's leg with her spare firearm. “Give me your shirt. Sif.”
“This isn't exactly the time for that.” Natasha tried to crack weakly as she complied.
“You two will head West. Towards the river. Peggy will go south-west.” She took the shirt and sliced it in two handing another piece to her second in command. “We drag these and it might throw any scent trackers off. We'll meet at the Milton's safe house near the lower east gate in three days. Understood?”
“Understood.” A uniform response echoed back.
“Sif.” Maria watched as Natasha split a few supplies with Peggy before they separated. Her words were barely a whisper. “Keep her safe.”
“Ma'am, if history's to prove itself she'll be keeping me safe.” She tried to sooth the commander's mind. It wasn't every day Hill showed any emotion. She was good at playing her part. Sif's joking seemed to help at little. Sif and Peggy paid no heed to the brief kiss exchanged before the group split. Who could blame the lapse in professionalism? Last week they had believed Natasha to be dead. Sif had never seen their commander look so worn down in those to days.
Before she could protest, Sif lifted Natasha up and broke into a sprint. Natasha was clearly not happy with requiring assistance but kept to herself “Everyone has limits.” Sif whispered to her friend that they all required help sometimes.
They stopped running after they passed through some marshy terrain that Natasha led them to believe would provide enough cover. Sif had to agree. This was one area she didn't need as much consulting in. She had spent many days in the forest in her youth. She knew the best ways to avoid being found from her childhood games. It was an interest she maintained. When they were on solid ground Sif let Natasha walk on her own for about an hour before they camped.
Sif was quick to build a fire and bring fresh game in the form of fowl she targeted on her way back from gathering kindling. With the birds roasting Natasha finally let out a deep breath. Sif waited for her to say something but it never came. Natasha wasn't one to talk about her past. Sif would be a fool to expect this to be an exception. Wordlessly she took out her supply pack to find disinfectant to treat the smaller of Natasha's wounds. She would heal quickly, but Sif didn't wish to be idle.
“It was worth it.” She said suddenly, shaking Sif into the moment. “I heard them. You might get your vengeance yet.”
“There is nothing that can undo this.” Sif took patted one of the cuts on Natasha's neck adverting he gaze. Natasha caught her eyes.
“This is who I am. It's what I do. If not this enemy there will be another.”
“I know it's just... you're so strong. To see you like this...” The words choked Sif inexplicably.
“It will not be the last time I'm hurt.” Natasha said softly. “As you so pointed out I am not immortal. But I do have one advantage now that I haven't in the past. Sif looked up to her.
“You. The group. I ..I don't like relying on others. There is no pride in it. At the same time, it's a reason to fight back. Beyond survival. I know that if I don't give in you'll all be out there doing your own part to support me.”
“Of course.” Sif smiled grasping her shoulder. “We are of the same chain. We cannot do without such a vital link.”
The sound from Natasha's throat was one of amusement. Sif was a contradiction in her eyes. She had become a warrior in their midst even if she didn't see it. But occasionally she showed signs of the softer soul she used to be consumed by. “You're in that chain as well,” She still didn't know how to take a compliment that wasn't in the standard vocabulary of the court.
Natasha was taken aback when Sif pressed herself to the other. She buried her head into the other's shoulder. “I rejoice in your life.” She showed no sign of letting go. Natasha only pulled her back when she felt the turn of her neck become damp. She brushed away the few stray tears Sif had allowed herself. The woman hadn't cried, to the best of Natasha's knowledge, since she was first brought to the order. It wasn't profuse, but touching. The spy kissed the spots where tears had been. Sif held her breath. Natasha's eyes were quizzical. There may have been a nod.
This time Sif didn't pull away when Natasha embraced her. Nor did she shrink when the other pulled her closer in the night when the fire died down.
Meeting at the rendezvous, Natasha finally revealed what she had witnessed. The sisters were intentionally building power, harvesting it, so that they might control even the royal defenses. Their final plan was to be launched during the harvest festival. A double attack. One upon the mage's tower. The other on the great hall itself. The plan, as far as she could tell, was to create a new order. One based on power instead of ancestry and the budding equality that was being sought.
Natasha wasn't clear as to how they planned to execute the takeover. She only knew that they weren't alone. She had heard whispers of a third possible accomplice. It left a crawling sensation in the air. But they moved with the information as best as they could.
With the meeting adjourned for the evening, Maria called out to Sif. She noticed that Natasha lingered at the side. Sif swallowed nervously when the other didn't meet her gaze. Had Natasha told her of what had transpired? Surely the other hadn't been wrong about how her partner would react. Doubt was erased when Maria smiled at her-the first time she had ever seen the expression on the commander. Maria stepped closer, drawing one arm gently around the gifted's waist.
“You have my thanks.”
“I think you're welcome.” Natasha smirked coming behind Sif as she replied for her, whispering in their target's ear.
“Stay with us tonight?” Sif was confused as she looked between them. Surely this wasn't normal. The thudding in her chest seemed not to care. Maria's added 'please' put an end to whatever debate may have ensued.
It was a trap. The sisters had been waiting to stage an ambush. Sif found herself being dragged by her hair and tossed towards the floor of the great hall as Amora looked down at her entirely pleased with herself. The royal family and the court itself was held back. Fine ladies of rank screamed and feinted against arms. Odin demanded explanation. Through the ringing in her head she vaguely recognized the sound of Thor's voice. She saw him run towards her only to be suddenly held in place from a spell cast form behind him.
The look of confusion captured Sif's eye as she followed his line of vision to see Loki holding one of the stolen objects in his hand. The item's power was what held his brother in place. Loki took a moment to gloat about his plan. He and the Enchantress spewed words about being tied down by tradition. They proclaimed that true rulers should be those of not only physical strength but able mind. They demanded surrender. Lorelei decided to show off her own type of power by commanding hidden magi, enamored by her charm and potion work alike, to encase the witnesses with a deadly barrier.
Nothing should be assumed to be infallible. Just before the barrier's completion a bullet pierced the shield causing it to crack into splinters. Sif barely caught sight of Natasha as she appeared seemingly out of nowhere, disabling the use of Lorelei's hands and swiping her legs out from beneath her. Hitting her head on her way down, the temptress lost consciousness.
Amora was unable to fully focus in concern for her sister, allowing Sif the moment she needed to break the other's control. She was absently aware of the rest of the unit emerging. The room was chaos. It was a flood of magic and mortal weapons. Sif could see her fellow unit members targeting key sympathizers and separating them from the crowd. Maria rushed to Thor's side. The heir doesn't look overly pleased at needing help with his current situation. Sif barely picked up Maria's taunting that if that were the case, he shouldn't underestimate his sibling's power.
Sif concerned herself with her current target narrowly dodging her returned gestures of aggression. Together, with Peggy's assistance, Sif nearly cornered her. But Amora had one last tick up her sleeve. Loki was battered from his fight with his brother at the center of the room. Loki heaved to regain air until he burst into an insane laughter moments before the Enchantress disappeared with him. The grand hall was left cold with silence.
The following ceremony had been brief. Those who had sided with Loki and Amora were taken into custody. Frigga stepped in where Odin couldn't to explain that the unit had been working under her blessing and sponsorship. They were given royal thanks and pardons for previous crimes for their contribution. It was Thor who suggested they be included in the sentencing and pursuit of the remaining traitors. They had been swift, yet merciful. His suggestion was taken into consideration.
Now Sif sat here, in a room that was only an echo. How easily she had been erased from common memory? She had striven to be reinstated. It had seemed forever. Yet the final rush had been so brief. It left her entirely unbalanced.
A knock on her door drew her attention. In the doorway stood Jane looking completely uncomfortable as she approached. Sif waited as Jane explained that someone had mentioned she had some minor wounds that needed attending. Sif only nodded.
“I hear you've been named to a royal squadron.” Sif nodded. Jame’s faced tightened. “You'll be leaving us then.”
“I thought it didn't matter to you.” She hissed as a bandage was tightened unnecessarily.
“It matters that you don't care.”
“I haven't accepted their offer.” Sif clarified. Jane looked at her skeptically.
“I have a duty to my kingdom. I will fulfill that but...” she paused considering her words. “I think I shall do it among my family. At least, for now.”
For the first time that Sif could recall, Jane smiled at her. “Welcome to the unit, then.”
Author: nightswhisper
Recipient: lilacsigil
Rating: PG-13
Universe: Mix, primarily movie
Pairing/Characters: Sif-centric. Natasha, Peggy, Maria, Frigga. Various others. Maria/Natasha, Natasha/Sif, Maria/Natasha/Sif, Peggy/Jane, brief mention of others
Word Count: 8500+
Disclaimer: I do not own, or take claim, to any character within! I'm simply borrowing them for a little while.
Summary: "How easily had this world forgotten me? Perhaps it was I who had forgotten it." After being framed for a crime against the throne, Queen Frigga offers her an alternative to exile. One that will change who she's been groomed to be and help save Asgard from the foe that has been working in the shadows. AU.
Warnings: alternative relationship structures- may be disagreeable by concept
Notes:: I didn’t have the time I would have liked to expand this universe to focus more directly on the requester’s individual likes and more character interactions. Sadly, time is my enemy. Though I will gladly expand if this does not suit the request. As it’s AU, I’ve done my best to adjust histories, professions, and personalities. I hope these directions are suitable for the reader.
It was just as she had remembered it. Walls of marble reflected back gold accents that spread like roots from the trim and the warm autumn sun that spilled in through arched windows. The breeze, a tad cold to be comfortable, drifted in and sent the curtains dancing. Trinkets of absurd value lined her dresser. Silk hung in a canopy above a bed with a mattress so soft it was like a blanket itself. It was a sharp contrast to the metal walls and slightly stagnant smell that accompanied the underground bunker that had served as her home for nearly the past three years. The theatrical life that filled the common areas of the dwelling just down the hall was nothing compared to the bustling streets that adjoined the common district to the market that the tunnels gave way to. The rigid simplistic furnishings of bare necessity made the luxury she had been accustomed to seem gluttonous.
The room had been preserved perfectly in her absence. Not even the lantern that Sif had sent splintering to the floor in a moment of panic as she had been awaken from her bedchamber and rushed before the King’s court had been collected. It was as if she had ceased to exist.
Tentatively she sat down on her mattress, gazing at the place that used to be her sanctuary. How hard had she fought to be back here,in this room. How had she longed for the favor of her King, her Queen, Betrothed, and Kingdom itself? Now that her birthright had been reestablished in the aftermath of the national tragedy, she found herself just as unsettled.
Had her world changed so much? Had she? It was true she was not the same little girl who had left the court screaming and in tears as she was accused of a crime she had not committed. Her parents barely recognized her-- not simply because of the alteration to her hair. Sif had become someone beyond the personae she had learned to adapt in training. She had seen things she had never dreamed of and done just as many. It was true that she was always strong willed, nearly stubborn, if not ambitious. She could out run a deal of the boys and had even shown some promise with a sword-had her father permitted it. But she had been content in the role that life had given to her.
There had been much she hadn’t known in her sheltered upbringing. She had always known Asgard to be one of the more liberal kingdoms of the Nine. She had thought the civilians and sorcerers were comfortable with the Gifted who governed their lands. Their rules were just, even flexible. Few other realms allowed the mixing of classes and genders. Sif’s mother often had marveled at the thought of a civilian chancellor to council or that women might too sit in power. Those of Th Gifted, and common blood, The Civilians, both found places in matter of political and domestic service. There were even some women with position in the guard. Much of the progress had been at the urging of Queen Frigga herself. So even if there was some disagreement between the three major factions, surely there should have been comfort in the promise of progress?
For the most part this was truth. What scandals Sif hadn’t imagined were the mixing of classes without designation of title. She hadn’t known of those civilians who dealt with science, something she learned to be more terrifying than magic, in a way that challenged all concept of power. Sif hadn’t known that there was such hate for people like her, or that she herself could be such an effective warrior. Sif hadn’t been prepared to come to know comradeship, that attitudes and habits that were dubbed savage to high society could mean life or death. They could even enhance a person. She hadn’t known hate and dependance nor that they weren’t necessarily exclusive in reality.
Sif did not miss her ignorance. And though the thought of her prior narrow ambitions made her flinch now, she did not regret who she had been. It took the collection of one's experiences to form a person. She would not deny that she held a fondness for parts of her old life. The ornate masquerades, the light hearten rides through the distant woods during summer retreats, the courtesy, drunken lords tales that were far more ridiculous than children’s stories, were blissful nostalgia. Her betrothed was another matter of complexity in her mind that she hadn’t the time to contemplate since her return.
By the same token, she was proud of who she had changed into. The thought alone made her laugh into a space that echoed as if to mock her confidence. If someone had projected that she'd feel this way that night so long ago she would have called them mad.
Heaving a sigh she flung herself back onto the pillows. She starred up at the ceiling through the drapes as she ran through the events that led her to this place. It had all been so incoherent in experience.
The night she was brought before King Odin and Queen Frigga several court guards reported that they had witnessed her within the royal treasury and that she had taken a now missing orb that was said to contain the type of magic only forged in ancient times. She had protested but when one of the king's closest advisers, as well as one of her father's friends, broken heartily confirmed her identity she had lost her battle. Nothing could convince the court otherwise.
She should have has suspicions when she heard others whisper of an epidemic. Not so long ago an accomplished member of the king's guard, Carol Danvers, had fled the kingdom after being prosecuted for the destruction of a central entry point to the palace. Clearly there was a growing fever among the Gifted women. Sif had been too distraught to notice it until she had been seen as a criminal herself. She had been so confused. Her state of mind hadn't improved when the Queen came to her that night in her cell.
Frigga had believed her, she affirmed in hushed tones. Just as she believed that Carol had been innocent. She knew both girls quite well, she insisted although Sif had never met the commander, that the accusations were entirely out of character for them both. There had been a brief hope for Sif that this were a pardon. Instead, the Queen implored her to take upon a quest. Frigga desired Sif to help unite the city and uncover the usurper amongst her kind. She could not refuse her Queen.
From the shadows Frigga had called out a name. A woman who Sif had never before laid eyes upon came as called, nonchalantly, appearing as if she had always been there. The Queen introduced her as Natasha. The girl automatically reported to Frigga on the positioning of the guards. They hadn't given her escape much meditation, clearly, as the woman with flaming hair suggested courses of action to Frigga in the moment. Sif didn't understand the logic, only that she was to go with Natasha and that she was not to be seen. Not here, or the streets. Which meant a disguise.
Frigga herself apologized after she nodded to Natasha. Sif nearly cried out when she felt the other woman behind her, hearing the song of the knife just moments before it sliced off a good length of her hair. Sif's instinct for silence was the only thing that kept her from crying out at the sight of the hair around her face as it shifted like flowing ink tainting her golden strands to ash.
Sif couldn't recall her passage to the headquarters. Now that she knew Natasha, she wasn't sure it was due to her hysteria at the time or the Spider's talents. If given the choice she'd pick the later. Either way, by dawn she had been introduced to a place that would become her home. Headquarters, known in code as the tunnels, was a network of bunkers buried beneath the capital of Asgard. It was home to a group of women hand selected by Frigga to preform tasks she could not, in good faith or safety, ask of courtly persons. Women, especially those not perceived to have a gift, could move about with greater ease than men. It was one advantage the current imbalance of equality had given them.
It seemed that while the Queen was content in her role as mother, confidant, and figurehead she was a protector and nurturer first. The complication was the network of children. The populous was hers to guide. Her husband may pass law, but it was her spirit that added the heart. When whispers became dangerous to those under her reign she had to act as any mother would. That meant this very team.
Where Sif had once been a centerpiece at court she now stood out for entirely different reasons. She had spent four days in her room, barely responsive. She overheard from her door a rough and frustrated voice she did not know. Sif recognized Natasha's voice as she said with brevity that the Queen had asked them to have patience with her. The independent spirit Sif prided herself kicked in. Straightening out skirt she went to the door.
That was her first encounter with her commanding officer. She was short and clad in breeches with short cropped hair. Maria Hill took every comment that was thrown at her in defense with an unimpressed neutral expression. Sif could have sworn Natasha was hiding a smile as the former courtly centerpiece lashed out.
“Are you done?” Maria asked in a tone that made it clear she wasn't accustomed to being passive when being spoken to in that manner. “Then report to the conference room in an hour.” It was the first command Sif had ever been given. It wasn't the last.
In the common room there was a small group. The essentials, as a woman she'd later know to call Darcy, had called them. Commander Hill had given the initial introduction of the group. It flowed into well kept woman briefing Sif about each member and their task ahead. In the meeting Sif took in names, gathered impressions, but it wasn't until later that she would learn about them personally.
Where Maria was in command of the tunnel's residents and general correspondence with the Queen, she was a pure civilian. She didn't have a drop of the Gift. Maria had worked in the service and was chosen for her clear organizational, strategical, and leadership skills. Sif would later discover that she had worked under Danvers at one point. Maria could be short tempered and couldn't tolerate foolishness. But she was fair and had a bigger heart than she'd ever let on.
The second command of the order who led the introductions was Margaret Carter. She was an observant woman with sharp eyes. Sif had the impression that she could be fierce if need be. Her stance gave her away as military as well. Sif recognized her accent vaguely as being a Midgarddian variation. One of the more distant realms, advocates from any of Midgardd's territories were rare. Too frequently they were busy settling their own disputes to pay attention to world politics. How such a small place could be fractured so, Sif would never know. She had always been told Midgardd was the example of allowing civilians to govern themselves.
Captain Carter was accompanied by a civilian out of uniform who eyed Sif with distrust. Jane Foster was an associate of the order. She didn't desire a position. From the report Sif gathered that Jane was a nurse at a civilian hospital. Her true form of relevance was that she saw to the connection of several safe houses for those who might fall under undue suspicion or prosecution.
Darcy's introduction was followed by a small half salute clearly mocking her environment. Of all those present she was the only one who seemed to be at ease nearly lounging in her chair. Sif recognized Darcy's last name, Lewis, immediately. Darcy's father was one of the privileged civilians who worked within the gifted's courts as a representative of the people. Darcy was following her father's footsteps in following political structure and communication at the university. It was an opportunity not available to most civilians who kept to their own trade education.
The last unfamiliar face in the room belong to Janet Van Dyne, who instantly insisted she be called Jan. Or, by her codename, or by her codename “Wasp”. Like Darcy she seemed a little more relaxed but maintained her posture and formality. Her family name rang a bell though the fallen Gifted could not place it. She was an associate to the group like Jane. She showed much more enthusiasm offering occasional operative support. Her primary function was a uniform and disguise designer. She also brought them into connection with Hank Pym, who was unavailable to attend but Sif was told was their primary researcher and technology developer. The thought sent shivers through Sif's spine.
Technology, science, was viewed as archaic to Sif's society. The Midgardians relied heavily on it. It was a practice that had lost its appeal after the gifted had been bestowed their strengths and magic had been reintroduced to the kingdoms. It was viewed within the capital as a serious threat. It didn't hold the same natural truths and limitations as magic. Even the greatest sorcerers were bound by their strength. Technology was constantly developing and even resistant to some barriers and safeguards designed by the paladins.
Commander Hill turned to Sif, explaining that the request for her involvement wasn't just a plea for sanctuary. She would be expected to assist in the organization. Being from within the courts gave them an advantage they hadn't had. Imitation on of identity and Intel were excellent. But Sif had been exposed to many key players on an extended basis. Knowledge of what Sif might see as basic, common even, places and things might prove invaluable. Her status and placement would be determined according to her training.
Sif was dismissed so that current matters could be discussed. She was sent off with Natasha, the woman who had rescued her. The redhead, who was considerably shorter than Sif, informed her that she'd be in charge of the first part of her training.
“A change of hair isn't going to fool anyone. If you want to help us, your Queen, and find the person who framed you, you're going to have to work at this.” She said flatly, though not unkind.
The traitor. The person who had sent her here. Sif hadn't thought of that crucial part of her predicament. Much to Sif's surprise anger rippled through her, stiffening her limbs. She had been lost in her bewilderment. Rage finally occurred to her. How could this happen? How could she let it happen? None of this could stand. She was innocent.
“There are people here who think we're babysitting you. From what you've shown them we are.” She stopped, gathering Sif's attention away from her anger. “Lets get this clear. You're stronger than a civilian. You have all the common strengths of your kind. But to them you are a spoiled princess who's pouting because she can't go to the ball.”
“I'm not--”
“Yes. You are.” Natasha ignored Sif's gasp. “You don't have to be. You can be one of us. You can learn to control your own life. To not let yourself be dragged away, and become an equal to those around you. Not just here, but up there.”
Sif contemplated the offer. She wasn't sure she liked this group of people. Civilian majority aside, as it really wasn't an issue, there was a structure here that was overly rigid. Then again this was their work. She had seen hints of another side, of family, in their sense of familiarity that lingered even in regiment. What was more, they had power. They had a way to reinstate her.
“What do I have to do?” Sid squared her shoulders attentively, even though her stomach flopped at the possibilities that laid before her.
Natasha, as it turned out, was a master of interception. She was able to mingle with any crowd and infiltrate the highest security areas-sometimes with a little support from the outside. Sif was astounded how she could change herself and become an entirely different person with the same features in a single blink of her eye. She had mastered many accents and vocal inflections. Natasha's mannerisms shifted seamlessly from one to the other. Sif knew from the start such falsehoods would never be her strong point without magic itself. She admired Natasha's skill.
In their time spent together, Sif came to consider her trainer to be her friend. She had learned, to her shock, that Natasha's father had been gifted. He mother was not. It was a forbidden union. The result had lengthened Sif's lifespan and increased her perceptions to a lesser degree. Most of her talent laid in training.
In addition to disguise, Natasha schooled her in linguistics and in different methods of thievery. She also made a point that being a female had a great many advantages. Men thought more often with their lower brain than their upper-an organ easily manipulated. The thought made Sif blush. That was one aspect Sif had been rigorously cautioned of. She was a woman of status. Such things were important. Her discomfort nearly made Natasha laugh.
“It's not just men you can use these tricks on.” Natasha insisted. “There are a number of women I've drawn information from. Vital information. It's also not just sex. Given time you can learn to tolerate and encourage any personality.”
“Is this how you are so comfortable with commander Hill?” Sif inquired casually as they finished their training one day. She had often noticed them together. Both were increasingly aware of the other's presence and thought. She had seen a brush of hand or a half nod bring great ease or concern. It was an intriguing connection. There were some stark differences between the two. Natasha's sly sense of humor hardly seemed in line with Maria's agenda. Likewise Maria's insistence of honesty seemed awkward with a woman who built her livelihood on lies. Yet their connection was clearly deep.
“I'm comfortable with Maria,” Natasha seemed to not be concerned with formalities, “ because I'm committed to her.”
“You've sworn your fealty to her cause, yes.” Sif started to nod in understanding. Loyalty was everything.
“I have, but that's not what I meant.” Natasha had always been patient with her for reasons Sif didn't understand. “She's my partner. My lover.”
Sif's toes squirmed in her shoes. She had heard of such things, of course. Times of war and separation of partners led to certain bonds being formed. In these whispered truths there was a certain romanticism that had always been endearing to Sif. While such relations were acknowledged, it was generally expected that such things should be forgotten at the end of conflict. True they had assignment, but Sif didn't sense this was the reason for her trainer and commander's affair.
“It's common knowledge. Our quarters are the same. It doesn't give us an excuse to be unprofessional.” Natasha made no apology or accommodation for the flush in Sif's cheeks.
“I didn't intend--”
“I know.” Natasha smiled as if she had known they were likely to have a conversation like this.
“Are...are there others? With, such tastes I mean. Here.” She mumbled over her words. Natasha looked like she had a new toy.
“Peggy and Jane have been involved as long as I've known them.” Sif simply nodded. Margerate, Peggy to her friends, was her secondary trainer and would be responsible for her later grooming.
“If this makes you uncomfortable we can avoid sending you on any particular mission that might require you to--”
“NO!” Sif's head shot up. She swallowed her words before stumbling on.“No. It's not a problem. If it's required of me, then I will do it.”
Natasha didn't push the issue that day. For her part, Sif was at ease with the information. Which was precisely what bothered her. Shouldn't the idea be slightly more upsetting, or at least foreign, to her? Instead she found herself to be curious.
After leaving Natasha's morning practice and obtaining lunch Sif's routine took her to the unit's second in the chain. Her initial evaluation of Peggy had been quite right. She was firm but a willing teacher to those who didn't underestimate or criticize her instincts. She was in charge of tactics and weaponry. Sif had watched enough battles and even played around in jest enough to know of traditional gifted weaponry. She had even shown a talent for them. Natasha was teaching her close combat. Peggy was in charge of less prominent forms. Guns, knives, gasses. Midgarddian tools. They felt blasphemous in her hands. But they weren't in the home battlefield or against other kingdoms. This armory was full of things for stealth, concealment, and a socking efficiency.
“You really don't like us, do you?” Peggy inquired when the look of resign crossed Sif's face at seeing the gun.
“I find you most agreeable.” Sif was confused. “Have I given you an unfavorable impression?”
“I mean, you don't like Midgard. Not with its people. But you're reluctant to take on anything from there.”
“I don't trust it.” Sif admitted. “I trust you. But all of this... this is...is....a terrifying art. It's an advantage--”
“And people of my corner of the world would call magic the same thing. Your court has its sorcerers. Your greatest defenders are protected by enchanted items. Most of which are an even greater danger than a firearm. Many of my people believe your magic suppresses our growth. They live in fear of it.”
“That's nonsense! The gifted don't assert--”
“But they don't know that. They don't see it.” Peggy spoke as she demonstrated how to clean the firearm. “ When I first came here I believed all the stories. That's not to say this system is perfect. I'm not sure there can be one that is. But there's more compassion, sensitivity, than Midgardians give Asgard credit for. Unless, of course, you cross them.”
Over their time together Sif had learned that Peggy had come to Asgard in exchange for Carol. She had been accepted at first by her recommendation from the former unit member. She earned it by saving Maria on a rather horrific accident transporting an artifact back to the Queen. For all her success there had been a hole to fill and Peggy had ambitions that couldn't be met in Midgard. She had studied philosophy and strategy in the central University before joining the order. It was where she had met Jane, another civilian whose parents had come to Asgard to make their own fortune.
Jane often showed up near the end of Sif's training sessions. She hadn't warmed up to Sif despite the former aristocrat's attempts to be civil. Peggy asked her not to take it personally. Jane hadn't been very warm towards gifted Asgardians for a long time. Her experience as a Midgardian descendant hadn't been pleasant though her partner refused to speak more on the subject. Sif didn't inquire further.
After a few months of training, Maria concluded Sif was advanced enough to run a few smaller missions. She partnered her with Darcy to run a few errands throughout the lower city. It was important for her to start forming bonds and connections. Due to the nature of their objectives they had to be discrete-but it also meant that their contacts had to be equally as cautious. They didn't have the luxury of royal sponsorship.
Darcy was the most talkative of the agents-when the mood struck-- and the most laid back. She was quick to make friends with the locals almost as easily as Jan. Though the later was more out of respect. That wasn't to say Jan wasn't likeable. It was more that there was an innocence in Darcy that was hard to deny. She had a dry humor that went well with many citizen’s tastes. Sif was appreciative of their choice to partner them initially. It was wise to have her face associated with the other.
When it was clear that Sif was picking up the trust of the general area she was sent on her own to retrieve messages. Gradually she was sent to deliver them to areas that were increasingly monitored as she gained experience. Then she was sent out of the city, into the surrounding villages and towards the woods. Though she knew her clearance was on a consistent rise, she couldn't help but feel somewhat frustrated. Hadn't she been meant for more than a courier?
“Patience.” Natasha tried to sooth her when she found Sif in the training room at an incredibly late -or early-- hour. Natasha had a fresh slash across her upper arm, visible by her elevated sleeve, and a bruise above her head. Sif's look of indignation made Natasha smile.
“It took me a year before they let me out of these rooms.” She confided. “Granted I was...procured..as an enemy.” It was well known that Natasha had once moved security information to those who would have unfavorable intentions for the crown. It was also known within headquarters and the court that it was she who stopped those she had sold the information to from executing their attack. It had earned Natasha her pardon and this secret position.
“It's just....every day I'm here, it feels like there's no progress! Every day the person who framed me is getting further and further away. There's nothing I can do about it. I don't even know if you know who it was! What I do know is little more than street gossip!”
Natasha contemplated Sif's grievances. “Maria would kill me if I told you anything. I can tell you that the rumors of arrests within the advisory council are true. That a new guard detail is being assigned before the king enters his time of rest. I can tell you that her majesty can confirm that one arrest is false and that we're now certain we're dealing with a person who can create illusions, delusions, or a rewrite memory.”
�ur contact was a bit sloppy in their research. The last person they framed was with the Queen at the time of the crime. As such they were pardoned.”
“Who was it?”
“Lady Amora. It seems that she came to the Queen's aide when she explored the sound of breaking glass at the time of the crime.” Natasha watched as a scowl formed across Sif's face. “I don't believe you'll like the rest of that story.”
“Tell me.” Sif ordered with conviction.
“According to one report, in order to thank her family for the service, Amora's younger sister Lorelei has taken your place as the Prince's betrothed.” Natasha watched Sif's back slump. It was an aspect of her old life she had never discussed.
Sif sat down to the bench wit a sigh. “It doesn't surprise me. The sisters have always gravitated towards the royal sons. It's a worthy ambition. Though I'm surprised Amora didn't seek the title herself. Then again, I doubt she could ever be settled with a man.”
“Maybe we should find her a woman, then.” Natasha sat beside her, nudging her with a shoulder in an attempt to lighten the mood. Instead she found Sif's head on the pesky shoulder as she mumbled a 'perhaps' under her breath.
Natasha turned her head, tucking Sif's hair out of her face and pulling her closer. It wasn't a gesture she'd encourage but it was something she felt Sif needed at the moment. She sympathized with her restless behavior. “You don't live that life anymore. Her ambitions are not yours. You can find a partner of your own choice now-not one that has been handed to you because you were born to a certain set of parents.”
“He was my friend, though I'm sure I irritated him to no end.” Sif said sadly. “I cared for him in spite of my circumstance. That's hardly the issue. Now I just wish I knew where I stood in this world. What's expected of me. Things were simpler then.”
“Boring.” Natasha corrected. Sif smiled and nodded in agreement.
For comfort or impulse, Natasha raised the other's chin to look at her directly. Sif had come to trust her. The gesture wasn't shocking. It had been a surprise when she found herself being kissed by her instructor. It wasn't totally foreign. There had been parts of her training that required her to prove certain basic seduction skills. The difference was that this was not training. Sif pulled away the moment she realized what was transpiring.
“You are spoken for.” Natasha, for all her talent, could not decipher what emotion fueled the observation.
“Don't concern yourself with that.”
“I certainly will!” Sif's back straightened instantly. Natasha smirked.
“My relationship with Maria is built on trust, on dependence, understanding, honesty, and the communication of all these things. Not on monogamy. At least, not in the strictest sense of the word. Maria is the partner I choose for my life. My job requires me to show affection to others. I will also outlive her should we see the end of our natural lives. It would take much more than a kiss to destroy us.”
“That...” Sif flushed her pulse not quite evened out. “Felt like more than a kiss.”
“It could be.” Natasha reached out to take the other's hand, raising it to her lips. Sif didn't pull away.
Her head was spinning. This certainly was not something she had been ever told was appropriate. A partner was a partner. But Sif had also seen her share of charmers. She had seen men flirt with others when away from their homes with the ladies in her social circles. Natasha's words held none of their poisonous lies that they fed her former friends.
“She might even approve of this.” Natasha led on, her voice cloudy. “She and I have welcomed others into our bed. On occasion.”
“M...May I consider this?” Natasha didn't respond verbally. She placed a chaste kiss on Sif's cheek and nodded before exiting. It was a tender gesture Sif hadn't registered before. She was more accustomed to the serious refined actions of Natasha in mission mode.
Sif didn't have time to think. The next afternoon she was called to a briefing in middle of her training session with Peggy. There was reportedly a trade set to happen. One of one of the missing items from the palace was said to be on the black market. Darcy would be posing at a patient at the clinic Jane volunteered at for strategic positioning. Sif would take the guise of a medical doctor from within the city visiting. Darcy would be monitoring and feeding them with instructions. Jane would get her close to the scene. Natasha would be standing by to trail if Sif gave them confirmation.
Excitement and anxiety rippled through Sif. It was her first chance to really prove herself. To test her skills. Her nerves were causing jitters to echo through her body. Jane was clearly less than impressed with being paired with the novice. She was sharp with her instructions and standoffish. her lip. She had dealt with the woman's cold demeanor on and off for about a year regardless of how kind she was to everyone else.
“Lady Fost--”
“Ms.”
“Ms. Foster,” Sif corrected herself. “I do not know what I have done to offend you, but I would like to be able to conduct business with you in a manner that does not make me me feel like I am the enemy.”
“Aren't you? “ Jane tilted her head. “Look, let's get this straight. I don't like you. I don't like people like you. Just because you happened to be born on the right side of a gate, and have some sort of extra strength and power, doesn't give you the right to shut out others. I was never allowed to pursue my passion-how could a commoner ever have the capabilities to understand such a concept? And despite my efforts I still have to work three times as hard and fight against the aristocracy crap where you can just smile a pretty little smile and slip by.”
For all her strength, Sif stepped back as Jane stepped into her space. She could feel the anger rolling off the other woman.
“Sure you work hard. But can you tell me that there's a single reason you're doing this other than to get back to your plush little world and forget all of us out here who are subjected to whatever whim you people up in some pretty little palace feel like following?” The comment made Sif pensive for a minute. She hadn't thought of anything beyond her revenge. She didn't have time to mule over it before Jane continued. “So no, you haven't offended me personally. But until you realize you can't just swoop in here and be entitled to something, I have no reason to respect you. Show me we're more than just another tool for you-then we can talk.”
“Until then I plan on doing what needs to be done. Nothing more. If that's unacceptable to you, you can walk right out that door.”
Sif stayed in place.
The mission seemed like a routine trail. Sif followed every protocol that was embedded into her brain, staying immersed in conversation with Jane, nodding to several medical explanations and asking appropriate questions as they walked towards the apothecary. They made their way past the target and into the building, working their way up to the floor to the storage attic. There was a window that gave them an ideal view of the drop site. Their height negated any side blocking that may have occurred from subtle gestures or a body passing by.
Thirteen minutes later, to Jane and Sif's surprise, two forms exited a portal in the alleyway, and approached the antsy recipient. Confirmation over the comm link-one invention from Midgard Sif could approve of-- that Darcy had two systems recording the exchange. One was from the diagonal from their location. The other was across the street. The collector was male, thin, and clearly nervous. The two forms had nondescript cloaks. But size of the wrist and hand that reached out Sif assumed they were female. The second pulled from her person a dagger with a hilt of gold. Sif almost yelled for Natasha to move until she caught the pattern of colors on the blade. They were too far to catch the detail of the shape. But Sif recognized the pattern of the decoration around the hilt as the royal sorcery's emblem. She informed her coworkers of her suspicion. They were given orders to pull out.
There was one problem with missions. They were not textbooks. They wasn't a set of ideal outcomes and written out possibilities.
While exiting the shop something caught Sif's eye. There was a glow coming from the alleyway even though she had watched the buyer pass her three paces ago. Working with the flow of the crowd she made her way over against Jame’s subtle protests. From around the corner she saw three things. First, the dagger still was in the hand of one of the woman. Sif's head whipped the other way she saw the man with a stick in his hand look up back towards the corner. Turning back Sif saw the portal-the cause of the glow they had seen from above. Thirdly was a strain of long blond hair falling in front of the hoods. One of the forms stepped through. The other stopped and started to turn. Sif drew back quickly only to find a first coming to her face.
She stumbled back a few steps out of surprise rather than action. The man was a common born, who even at full strength couldn't manage to hurt her to any real extent. Her skin was thicker. Her healing rate was faster. As someone skilled, he could hold his own for a little while. Especially with the help of weaponry. He also seemed to think she was in league with the pair that had just cheated him out a significant amount of money. He looked familiar, but it was something she pushed back into her mind as she evaded his attacks.
He hadn't come alone. The knife that nicked her leg made her aware of the other men. When at least the numbers had been revealed she managed to herd three of the four into a corner before Natasha arrived as back up and promptly knocked out the fourth. With help of their contacts the group was brought back to base.
“Are you okay?” Natasha took a hold of Sif's arm wiping the glassy look of routine focus from her eyes.
“I know who it is. The thieves.”
“You're positive it's them?” Maria looked skeptically across the table from Sif who nodded.
“I've been with them my entire life. There is no other with such power or ability to construct an alibi.” She replied.
“It would explain why the guards thought they saw her in an attempt.” Natasha offered.
“One stayed by her Majesty. The other was enchanted to be in her sister's likeness.” Peggy analyzed.
“Do you realize who we're implicating in this? I can't take this information to her majesty lightly. Not so soon after she's given them her blessing.” Maria laid the social issue out on the table.
“All the more reason to. It's a right of motive.” Darcy offered.
“It's more dangerous than that. The Enchantress and her sister are not fools. They have power. And the felt me. They didn't see me, but they will be cautious now. They know that someone has caught scent of them specifically.”
Sif's statement had been prophetic. Slip ups were harder to come by. When informants started disappearing that unease began to grow. The tension in the capital spread out from the palace into the streets. The royals had done well to conceal their problems. Once the news broke panic began to occur. Social anxieties arose causing those who were gifted to breech the good will they had broadcast and in some cases become more firm in the expression of their capabilities. There had been a rift between Jan and her father's old apprentice, Hank. The unit affiliate and scientist were known to be in a strained relationship. Their various views on current events didn't help. It left the organization in a shorter supply in their defense and armory as they were the chief designers.
It wasn't until Natasha was captured that they realized how deep they were in. The agent was missing for nearly three weeks before they received a tip off on her location. She had broken away from her captives but was being pursued. Maria joined Peggy and Sif moving in to the last reported location deep within the forests that lined the city. They arrived just in time. Amora and Lorelei hadn't send paid goons in alone this time. Tracking creatures that were three times as strong-a decent challenge for even Sif's natural strength-- and twice as persistent had their scent.
Natasha was running on empty, looking much worse for wear. She held her own as best she could. Anyone without her skill would have been dead long before that point. It took the remaining three women to destroy the creatures and secure the area. Maria quickly helped Natasha up to her feet calling to Sif as she felled the last of the beasts. “Take her.”
“I can do this. I don't need--”
“Romanov, shut it. You've been through hell and she can move faster than any of us, save you. If I help you we all fall behind. Those creatures are gone, but they won't be the last they send. If we want to make it back we can't do it as a unit.” She thought through as she equipped Natasha's leg with her spare firearm. “Give me your shirt. Sif.”
“This isn't exactly the time for that.” Natasha tried to crack weakly as she complied.
“You two will head West. Towards the river. Peggy will go south-west.” She took the shirt and sliced it in two handing another piece to her second in command. “We drag these and it might throw any scent trackers off. We'll meet at the Milton's safe house near the lower east gate in three days. Understood?”
“Understood.” A uniform response echoed back.
“Sif.” Maria watched as Natasha split a few supplies with Peggy before they separated. Her words were barely a whisper. “Keep her safe.”
“Ma'am, if history's to prove itself she'll be keeping me safe.” She tried to sooth the commander's mind. It wasn't every day Hill showed any emotion. She was good at playing her part. Sif's joking seemed to help at little. Sif and Peggy paid no heed to the brief kiss exchanged before the group split. Who could blame the lapse in professionalism? Last week they had believed Natasha to be dead. Sif had never seen their commander look so worn down in those to days.
Before she could protest, Sif lifted Natasha up and broke into a sprint. Natasha was clearly not happy with requiring assistance but kept to herself “Everyone has limits.” Sif whispered to her friend that they all required help sometimes.
They stopped running after they passed through some marshy terrain that Natasha led them to believe would provide enough cover. Sif had to agree. This was one area she didn't need as much consulting in. She had spent many days in the forest in her youth. She knew the best ways to avoid being found from her childhood games. It was an interest she maintained. When they were on solid ground Sif let Natasha walk on her own for about an hour before they camped.
Sif was quick to build a fire and bring fresh game in the form of fowl she targeted on her way back from gathering kindling. With the birds roasting Natasha finally let out a deep breath. Sif waited for her to say something but it never came. Natasha wasn't one to talk about her past. Sif would be a fool to expect this to be an exception. Wordlessly she took out her supply pack to find disinfectant to treat the smaller of Natasha's wounds. She would heal quickly, but Sif didn't wish to be idle.
“It was worth it.” She said suddenly, shaking Sif into the moment. “I heard them. You might get your vengeance yet.”
“There is nothing that can undo this.” Sif took patted one of the cuts on Natasha's neck adverting he gaze. Natasha caught her eyes.
“This is who I am. It's what I do. If not this enemy there will be another.”
“I know it's just... you're so strong. To see you like this...” The words choked Sif inexplicably.
“It will not be the last time I'm hurt.” Natasha said softly. “As you so pointed out I am not immortal. But I do have one advantage now that I haven't in the past. Sif looked up to her.
“You. The group. I ..I don't like relying on others. There is no pride in it. At the same time, it's a reason to fight back. Beyond survival. I know that if I don't give in you'll all be out there doing your own part to support me.”
“Of course.” Sif smiled grasping her shoulder. “We are of the same chain. We cannot do without such a vital link.”
The sound from Natasha's throat was one of amusement. Sif was a contradiction in her eyes. She had become a warrior in their midst even if she didn't see it. But occasionally she showed signs of the softer soul she used to be consumed by. “You're in that chain as well,” She still didn't know how to take a compliment that wasn't in the standard vocabulary of the court.
Natasha was taken aback when Sif pressed herself to the other. She buried her head into the other's shoulder. “I rejoice in your life.” She showed no sign of letting go. Natasha only pulled her back when she felt the turn of her neck become damp. She brushed away the few stray tears Sif had allowed herself. The woman hadn't cried, to the best of Natasha's knowledge, since she was first brought to the order. It wasn't profuse, but touching. The spy kissed the spots where tears had been. Sif held her breath. Natasha's eyes were quizzical. There may have been a nod.
This time Sif didn't pull away when Natasha embraced her. Nor did she shrink when the other pulled her closer in the night when the fire died down.
Meeting at the rendezvous, Natasha finally revealed what she had witnessed. The sisters were intentionally building power, harvesting it, so that they might control even the royal defenses. Their final plan was to be launched during the harvest festival. A double attack. One upon the mage's tower. The other on the great hall itself. The plan, as far as she could tell, was to create a new order. One based on power instead of ancestry and the budding equality that was being sought.
Natasha wasn't clear as to how they planned to execute the takeover. She only knew that they weren't alone. She had heard whispers of a third possible accomplice. It left a crawling sensation in the air. But they moved with the information as best as they could.
With the meeting adjourned for the evening, Maria called out to Sif. She noticed that Natasha lingered at the side. Sif swallowed nervously when the other didn't meet her gaze. Had Natasha told her of what had transpired? Surely the other hadn't been wrong about how her partner would react. Doubt was erased when Maria smiled at her-the first time she had ever seen the expression on the commander. Maria stepped closer, drawing one arm gently around the gifted's waist.
“You have my thanks.”
“I think you're welcome.” Natasha smirked coming behind Sif as she replied for her, whispering in their target's ear.
“Stay with us tonight?” Sif was confused as she looked between them. Surely this wasn't normal. The thudding in her chest seemed not to care. Maria's added 'please' put an end to whatever debate may have ensued.
It was a trap. The sisters had been waiting to stage an ambush. Sif found herself being dragged by her hair and tossed towards the floor of the great hall as Amora looked down at her entirely pleased with herself. The royal family and the court itself was held back. Fine ladies of rank screamed and feinted against arms. Odin demanded explanation. Through the ringing in her head she vaguely recognized the sound of Thor's voice. She saw him run towards her only to be suddenly held in place from a spell cast form behind him.
The look of confusion captured Sif's eye as she followed his line of vision to see Loki holding one of the stolen objects in his hand. The item's power was what held his brother in place. Loki took a moment to gloat about his plan. He and the Enchantress spewed words about being tied down by tradition. They proclaimed that true rulers should be those of not only physical strength but able mind. They demanded surrender. Lorelei decided to show off her own type of power by commanding hidden magi, enamored by her charm and potion work alike, to encase the witnesses with a deadly barrier.
Nothing should be assumed to be infallible. Just before the barrier's completion a bullet pierced the shield causing it to crack into splinters. Sif barely caught sight of Natasha as she appeared seemingly out of nowhere, disabling the use of Lorelei's hands and swiping her legs out from beneath her. Hitting her head on her way down, the temptress lost consciousness.
Amora was unable to fully focus in concern for her sister, allowing Sif the moment she needed to break the other's control. She was absently aware of the rest of the unit emerging. The room was chaos. It was a flood of magic and mortal weapons. Sif could see her fellow unit members targeting key sympathizers and separating them from the crowd. Maria rushed to Thor's side. The heir doesn't look overly pleased at needing help with his current situation. Sif barely picked up Maria's taunting that if that were the case, he shouldn't underestimate his sibling's power.
Sif concerned herself with her current target narrowly dodging her returned gestures of aggression. Together, with Peggy's assistance, Sif nearly cornered her. But Amora had one last tick up her sleeve. Loki was battered from his fight with his brother at the center of the room. Loki heaved to regain air until he burst into an insane laughter moments before the Enchantress disappeared with him. The grand hall was left cold with silence.
The following ceremony had been brief. Those who had sided with Loki and Amora were taken into custody. Frigga stepped in where Odin couldn't to explain that the unit had been working under her blessing and sponsorship. They were given royal thanks and pardons for previous crimes for their contribution. It was Thor who suggested they be included in the sentencing and pursuit of the remaining traitors. They had been swift, yet merciful. His suggestion was taken into consideration.
Now Sif sat here, in a room that was only an echo. How easily she had been erased from common memory? She had striven to be reinstated. It had seemed forever. Yet the final rush had been so brief. It left her entirely unbalanced.
A knock on her door drew her attention. In the doorway stood Jane looking completely uncomfortable as she approached. Sif waited as Jane explained that someone had mentioned she had some minor wounds that needed attending. Sif only nodded.
“I hear you've been named to a royal squadron.” Sif nodded. Jame’s faced tightened. “You'll be leaving us then.”
“I thought it didn't matter to you.” She hissed as a bandage was tightened unnecessarily.
“It matters that you don't care.”
“I haven't accepted their offer.” Sif clarified. Jane looked at her skeptically.
“I have a duty to my kingdom. I will fulfill that but...” she paused considering her words. “I think I shall do it among my family. At least, for now.”
For the first time that Sif could recall, Jane smiled at her. “Welcome to the unit, then.”