Sif/Loki - It Takes Two To Tango, Chapter 4
It Takes Two To Tango
Chapter 4
Fandom - Thor (2011 Film), Sif/Loki
Rating - Teenage
Summary - Eighteen year old Sif is horrified when she discovers she has to attend the next Asgardian Ball. Not only will she have to wear a dress, but she’ll have to dance! Unable to face the embarrassment of proper dancing classes, she enlists Loki’s help.
Genre - Humour/Romance
Status - Work in Progress, Chapter 4 of 10?
Word Count - 2, 702 words
Previous Chapters - Chapter 1, Chapter 2 and Chapter 3.
This story is meant to be a bit of a silly, but I hope humourous and entertaining look at a younger Sif and Loki. There will be a good few chapters, so I hope you continue reading.
Written for the prompt on LJ's Norsekink - I'd like to see Loki teach Sif how to dance for a formal occasion at Asgard. (Full prompt here.)
Chapter 4
Weapons practice finished early that day, far too early for Sif’s liking, though Thor and Fandral looked relieved when it was over, as did Volstagg, who had disappeared immediately in search of food. Hogun was quietly cleaning his sword in the corner of the training ground and Sif began heading towards him, hoping he may agree to another round of combat. He looked up as she approached, muttered some unintelligible excuse and then quickly headed towards the others. They glanced up nervously as they saw Sif approaching them too and quickly turned in the direction Volstagg had taken, calling over their shoulders they were getting some food and would meet her later.
Sif scowled at their rapidly approaching backs. Cowards! They had hardly dared fight with her all day and as soon as the weapons trainer had issued orders for pairs, Sif had found herself with no partner. Usually they were six, but today, the odd number seemed to suit them all bar her. Still, it did mean she was partnered with the trainer, who did not flinch at her heavy blows the way the others did and offered her many compliments and tips for improving her form. Just wait until she had chance to try them out on those great buffoons!
Still, despite her annoyance, she longed to follow them, to join them in the feast they were sure to track down, to laugh at their silly jokes and their coarse manners. Even listening to their jibes about her bad mood would have been a preferable alternative, for now that training was over for the day, Sif knew where she should head, though her feet refused to move. She cursed her own nerves and quickly forced herself to walk forwards, holding her head high as she stomped in the direction of the forest where Loki had agreed to meet.
As she headed down the dirt road that led out of the main citadel, Sif could not help but wonder if this was how real warriors felt, heading out to war. With their stomachs twisted into knots and their hearts heavy with doubts, their breathing laboured and their feet slow and their stride short. Sif had never thought so, for whenever she’d sneaked behind the rocks and walls with the two princes as a child, watching the lines and lines of warriors march into the distance, they’d always seemed so euphoric, so full of pride and honour, of life and energy and optimism. And whenever Sif had faced any foes on the training grounds or on an adventure with her friends, her heart had only pounded with adrenaline, her fingers only clenching to hold her sword and her muscles only impatience to move, to fight. This nervous, heavy anxiety that had so plagued her since yesterday was entirely too new to Sif, and she did not like this apparent weakness one bit. She tried to keep her stride strong to push away the twisting doubts, but it proved as futile as the days fighting had been, and her apprehension only thickened the closer she got to the small clearing within the forest.
Loki was already there when Sif arrived, emerging from the thick trees of the dark forest into the bright light of the open clearing. It had been their haunt since they were children; the two princes and herself coming here to play, jumping into the water when the heady Asgardian summers’ came and skating across the thick ice when it froze in the bitter winters. As they had grown, they had come here less and less, and Sif knew only Loki frequented this place now, far as it was from the palace walls. But just like in their childhood, there Loki was sitting, on the bank by the pool with his feet dangling into the water, a pile of books beside him and one resting open on his lap.
Sif did not bother announcing her presence, for she knew that Loki had cast countless spells around the clearing and the forest, deterring unwelcome visitors and warning of any approach. Sif could remember well the day he had first cast them, the day he had shown them this clearing, his face full of excitement and pride as he had led her and Thor through the dark forest into the bright, dazzling sunlight. The fond memory from their childhood helped lessen her foul temper slightly, at least until Loki continued to ignore her, and her earlier contempt crept back. For she was not some lowly, courtly guest, seeking an audience with the prince and she would be damned if she would give Loki the satisfaction of acting like one. So she continued glaring at him until her impatience got the better of her and she marched forwards. She towered over his seated form, casting a shadow with her arms folded crossly and her stance wide, instinctively preparing for battle. “Are you going to leave me standing here all day, Loki, or are you going to uphold you promise?”
With a heavy sigh, Loki turned another page of the thick volume before him and answered slowly, wearily, “If you will just wait a minute, Sif, I need to finish this chapter.” Ignoring her completely, he reached down for his quill and drew a few black markings on the scroll by his side.
His tone reminded Sif all too much of the voice their old history scholar had used when her and Thor misbehaved. Just like then, the condescension laced within grated on Sif’s nerves and fuelled her rebellious streak, causing her to snap back, “Do not think you can take advantage, Loki. Any time you waste helping me, is time I will waste helping you.”
Loki let out another heavy sigh before he deigned to answer her, his eyes still focused on that darn book, “I am not wasting your time, Sif, this is part of your lesson.”
“And what lesson may this be, Loki?” Sif scoffed back.
“The most important one when it comes to dancing, Lady Sif.” He finally turned towards her then, at last acknowledging her presence, “Patience.”
Sif’s only answer was to glare further, but when Loki turned once more to the book in front of him and began to turn another page, Sif’s lack of patience got the better of her. She kicked out with her foot, aiming for the stupid book that was claiming Loki’s attention and the pool beyond.
Either Loki had pre-empted her movements, or his reactions were far quicker than she remembered, because before her foot could reach the blasted book, Loki’s hand shot out and caught hold of her ankle. He held it firmly in place, but Sif’s momentum carried her forward and, in her surprise, her balance was thrown off kilter. She reached out desperately in shock and grabbed the first steady object she could find, which just happened to be Loki’s shoulder. She managed to stop herself being thrown forwards, but her balance was still quite precarious, with her long frame tilting far too close to the edge of the pool.
“And what is the second lesson, then, Loki?” Sif asked curtly, her voice wavering as she tried to keep steady on one foot as Loki continued to hold the other at an awkward angle.
“Balance,” he announced, his voice a warning Sif did not heed quite fast enough. For a moment later, he suddenly let go of her ankle and moved his shoulder forwards slightly.
It knocked Sif off balance and propelled her forwards. Her feet and arms flailed fruitlessly about in the empty air and this time they found no supportive purchase. And so she continued forwards, tumbling over the bank and falling head first into the ice cold water below. The surprise of her fall, the force of hitting the water and the shock of the cold made Sif yelp, pushing the air from her lungs as she swallowed a mouthful of water. So great was her fall, it propelled her near enough to the very depths of the deep pool and she only just about managed to stop herself hitting the rocks and pebbles lining the base. Instinctively, her arms and legs pushed upwards and she broke the surface a few moments later, spluttering out the icy water as she tried to breathe in the fresh air.
When she looked up, she saw Loki standing now, a few feet away from the edge and a cruel, satisfied smile pulling at his lips. His distance meant Sif could exact no revenge and pull him in, though she did push forwards with her arm, sending a cascading wave of water over the bank. She was rewarded with a moment of smug satisfaction as he jumped back and his smirk slipped. But it was short lived, for the next moment he waved his arms and a protective barrier of green light flashed around him and pushed the water away.
His conceited magic trick further enraged Sif and she glared a few moments longer at the stupid boy before her, treading water to keep her head above the surface. She would have stayed in longer, glowering at Loki until she could think of a sharp retort, but the water was too cold from the melting snow high up on the mountains, which fed the cascading river nearby and then the pool itself. So instead she swam over to the far side of the pool where the bank was lower and hauled herself out of the freezing cold water.
She was dripping wet, cold and her teeth were beginning to chatter, so when she saw Loki’s smirk intensify, her temper got the better of her and she stomped towards him. Loki refused to back up a step and so enraged was Sif at the mocking challenge in his eyes, she suddenly lashed out when she reached him. Kicking out with her foot, she knocked Loki’s legs from under him. He was too surprised to counter in time and he lurched backwards and fell with a hard smack onto the soft grass of the clearing. Before Loki had chance to recover, she followed through on the move. Pulling out the dagger she kept hidden in her boot, she held it against Loki’s neck; her knees astride his waist and her elbow digging into his ribs preventing him from moving. It was no worse than the blows they had dealt each other in the training ground and Sif held no remorse for the flash of pain as Loki’s body connected with the ground and then with her elbow. It was only what he deserved for his foul trick and his earlier taunts at breakfast and she deliberately shook the ice cold water onto him.
Loki did not bother to struggle, he was much too proud and stubborn for that, and instead a smug expression all too quickly replaced the shock at the initial fall. It earned him a greater pressure on the sharp blade against his neck and a look of contempt from Sif, “Stop with these stupid games, Loki.”
“They are not games, Lady Sif, they are valuable lessons for you to learn.” His smirk was poorly masked as he continued, “Ones that will serve you well, both in the ballroom and on the battlefield.”
His obvious slight on her battle prowess earned him a sharper dig in the ribs and she pushed the knife deeper into his neck, almost drawing blood. She smiled as he flinched slightly, his maddening sneer faltering.
She leant closer towards him, letting the water drip from her face and hair and onto his. “And what, pray tell, is the next lesson, Loki?” She knew the question was akin to teasing a snake, taunting it and tempting it to bite. But his conceited attitude was overriding her patience and common sense and giving her a thirsty desire for revenge.
Loki certainly looked like a snake then, a dark mischievous glint to his expression as he regarded her, taunted her. He tilted upwards, pushing against the knife and causing Sif to pull away slightly to prevent piercing his skin. A strange darkness started to fill his eyes, a strange intimacy, a confidence, a knowing, as the mischief within took a different turn. Sif felt herself tremble slightly, something which must surely be just a result of the cold water seeping through into her armour. She could risk no further pressure upon the knife and instead dug her elbow deeper into his ribs in retaliation and something… else, something almost akin to fear.
It had no effect, for Loki continued to lean upwards towards her until their faces were nearly touching, heedless of the sharp dagger against his exposed neck. His eyes held hers in a taunting challenge and Sif refused to back down and pull away from him, though her battle trained senses were screaming at her to do so.
“The next lesson, my dear Lady Sif…” His voice dropped to a whisper, becoming deeper, darker, a distinct edge of danger within, and something… else. Something that made Sif want to fight, or run or… something she could not, would not define. His breath was hot against her cheek now and a shiver ran down her spine, her heart starting to pound in her ears and her senses seemed to coalesce, to focus in on him as if they were in the training rink, weighing each other up and preparing to fight.
Then, the snake bit and Loki’s voice, so low and quiet now, whispered into her ear, “…is submission.”
Sif bolted upright, coiling from the attack as she jumped firmly to her feet, her stance wide and her arm raised, holding out the dagger and ready for battle. The words… his voice… his closeness… His breath tickling her ear… It snapped something inside of Sif and she felt her pulse racing, her breathing shallow and her body trembling. Her muscles were tense, wanting to act, to do… something. It unnerved her and she cursed her reaction immediately, her weakness. When she saw Loki start to shift below her, his expression now his usual smug, condescending smirk, she found herself instinctively stepping towards him, pushing her foot down hard into his chest so he could not stand. It was as if all the nervous anxiety and irritation that had plagued her since their deal had first been struck was breaking forth and seeking revenge.
She folded her arms and towered over him, her glare filled with all the hatred and rage within her, though her voice was thankfully calm when she spoke, and her hands only trembled slightly as she twirled the dagger around in her fingers. “I grow tired of your games, Loki. Either you cease this trickery or the deal is off.” She cocked her head to one side as a sudden thought occurred to her, “Unless that is your game, Loki, in which case, the erroneous is on you.”
Loki just smiled up at her, his eyes as sharp as the dagger so recently held against his throat, “And you think that is the game I am playing?”
“I do not know what game you play, trickster, and I care not. Nor do I want any part in it.” She pushed down harder with her foot, forcing Loki deeper into the ground. “I am here to learn to dance, that is all.”
Loki shifted beneath her, raising his body mockingly and pushing her momentarily off balance, making her all too aware of how slight this power over him really was, how easy it would be for Loki to throw her off. “It is rather difficult to teach dancing whilst pinned to the floor, my Lady.”
“Then, do you promise to end this trickery and begin fulfilling your end of our bargain?” She eyed him shrewdly, not trusting him one bit.
Holding his arms out in mock surrender, Loki replied sardonically, “Whatever my Lady commands.”
Without dropping her contemptuous glare from his, she begrudgingly pulled her foot away and stepped back, allowing Loki to rise.
“And so, my Lady Sif,” Loki asked, his voice dripping with sarcasm and condescension, “Are you ready to learn how to dance?”
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I hope you enjoyed reading this chapter. I am afraid Sif and Loki still aren't getting on so well... Lets hope that changes soon, otherwise she may not learn to dance in time!
Thanks for reading and more chapters are on their way soon.