A Dragon Moves Amongst Us, Chapter 2 - A Sif/Loki Fanfiction
A Dragon Moves Amongst Us
Chapter 2
Fandom - Thor (2011 Film), Sif/Loki
Rating - Teenage
Summary - During one of their many adventures, Sif runs into a dragon who looks and acts just like Loki. She doesn't realise it's only a trick and finds herself in a lot of trouble, in more ways than one...
Genre - Romance/Fantasy
Status - Work in Progress, Chapter 2 of 10?
Word Count - 1,417 words
Previous Chapters - Chapter 1.
So, I was set a drabble challange by mechelune to write a Sif/Loki story where Sif meets a dragon who looks and acts like Loki. I'm not very good at sticking to drabble length, so here's the second chapter in what will probably end up being a longish story. I hope you enjoy reading and more is definitely on its way!
Chapter 2
Sif felt herself stumble as she clambered through the thick undergrowth of leaves, twisted roots and fallen branches, heading in what she hoped was the direction of the camp. She had only planned on stepping a short distance into the forest, just far enough to take care of business without risk of being seen. She had been careful to keep the distant light of the dying fire within sight, to guide her back to camp. Yet when she had turned around, all she could see was darkness, a thick, dense darkness that even the moonlight was unable to penetrate. Sif had never been one for superstitions and speculation, never one to let small fears and forebodings hamper her confidence. But there was something in the air tonight, something that made her skin crawl, and something that had been growing progressively worse since she’d first begun her short trip into the woods. She quickened her pace, anxious to return to camp.
A hidden tree root caught her off guard and Sif felt herself thrown forwards. In her surprise and the almost complete blackness, she was unable to regain her balance or prepare for the fall, and she hit the ground hard. Her arms took most of the impact as they collided with the firm earth buried beneath the leaves and her leg banged into another twisted root. It was a few moments before Sif’s awareness caught up with her and she was just about to push herself upwards on painful arms, when she heard a very familiar voice above her.
“My Lady Sif. I hope you are not hurt.”
Sif glared up at Loki’s concerned face; she was not fooled and she felt a combination of annoyance and embarrassment wash over her. Trust it to be the trickster around when she fell. “I am quite alright, Loki,” Sif retorted, her wounded pride leaking into her voice as she looked down again, away from the feigned sympathy in the trickster’s eyes.
A hand appeared before her vision and Sif glared at it a moment, before she swallowed her pride and took it, allowing Loki to pull her to her feet. It was only when she was standing, facing Loki, that she had the first inkling that something was not quite right. Despite the blackness around them, Sif could see him perfectly, though he held no light. She wondered for a moment what new magic this was, but then the smirk on his face pulled her attention and she glared at him further. He still held her hand and she quickly pulled it away, ignoring the warmth of his fingertips.
Thankfully, he made no comment about her fall and instead cocked his head to one side, considering her. His scrutinising gaze was unnerving and she fought hard to resist the urge to fidget. There was something odd about his gaze, the confident lilt in his expression as he watched her and the arrogant turn of his posture. It was the Loki she saw at court, when he was mocking the sheep who would fawn at his father’s thrown, or planning his latest trick to create calamity within the palace halls. It was many a century now that Loki had learnt better than to toy with her like this, many a broken jaw and a bruised rib, so what on earth was he playing at now?
She felt her hands start to clench in her effort to remain still and she quickly turned on her heel before he could notice and began walking away from him. She was in no mood to engage in whatever game Loki had planned.
“Am I not to be thanked for my assistance, my Lady?” Loki called after her, his words mocking but his tone held something else, something Sif could not quite put her finger on. Something that made the blood within her veins start to simmer, her heartbeat to quicken and every muscle within her body tensed, poised to run.
“Thank you, my Prince,” she called mockingly back, ignoring the effect of his words and refusing to turn to look at him. She needed to concentrate on the twisted roots beneath her and did not want to see the smirk that she knew would be pulling at his lips.
As she stepped further away from him, the light fell quickly, until the blackness was all consuming again and she had to carefully feel the way with her feet. She could feel Loki’s gaze following her, watching her, and she did her best to ignore the way it made her heart pound and her skin prickle. There was something strange in the air now, some unnatural magic she could not identify and it was creeping along her skin, making her battle senses rage and putting her teeth on edge.
She had longed since learnt to identify Loki’s magic, long since recognised the sound, the shape, the sight, the feel of it when it rose in the air around him. It took on many different forms, sometimes comforting or protective, sometimes teasing or playful, sometimes frightening or dangerous, but it was always distinctly Loki’s. Always it would seep into her skin and pulse like music, a perfect harmony within her very soul. This was different, unfamiliar, unnerving and Sif had to fight hard to push her apprehensions away.
She had not gone too many steps when she heard Loki call after her, his voice filled with an unsettling merriment and mischief. “You are going the wrong way, my Lady.”
Sif stilled, but that was all the acknowledgement she would give to Loki’s words. They grated on her patience, mixed with the suspicions and anxieties plaguing her thoughts, the tension filling her body. Already she was sick and tired of Loki’s games and she was determined to not give him any more satisfaction.
When she did turn around to face him, after a few moments of stubbornness and pride, she was taken aback to find him leaning confidently against a tree, his arms folded arrogantly and his smirk dancing with a mischief that was reflected in his eyes. His cocky disposition annoyed Sif further, especially as she knew full well it was at her expense, and without a word she marched towards him, about to brush past and head towards the camp. Just as she reached his side though, he suddenly shot out his hand and grabbed hold of her arm. His grip was strong, but surprisingly gentle, and she stopped instantly in her tracks. She could feel the coolness of his fingertips through her sleeves and she felt a shiver run through her.
“Where are you going in such a hurry, my Lady?” Loki asked. His voice was deep, heavy, tempting, and Sif felt another shiver run through her. She refused to meet his gaze though, staring resolutely ahead, more in fear of what he may see in her eyes than anything else. The air was growing heavy around them, intense, charged, reminding Sif of the stillness in the air before a thunderstorm struck. Her heart was not helping either, it was racing now and her skin was burning where his cool fingertips lay.
She tried to laugh, to relieve some of the tension. “I’m going back to camp, Loki, it is freezing cold out here.”
Sif tired to move again, but his grip tightened on her arm and though his words were teasing, his voice was heavy when he replied, “There are many things one can do to keep warm, my Lady.”
Her senses were screaming at her now, her mind telling her to run, warning of danger. It was in the very air around them, in the heat of Loki’s body so close and in the intensity of his gaze upon her. It took all her effort to remain still, to stand strong and force herself to turn towards him, to meet the challenge she knew she would see in his eyes. When she caught his gaze though, she felt her breath catch in her throat. There was no challenge in them, instead they were dark, intense, hungry and Sif suddenly felt very small, vulnerable, like the prey caught in the predators glare. There could be no doubt of his intentions and she felt herself shiver, half in anticipation and half in fear. Her voice was sticking in her throat, but she managed to choke out a few words, tried to lace it with pride and dignity, “What do you want from me, Loki?”
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I hoped you enjoyed this second chapter. More is definitely on it's way!