It Takes Two To Tango, Chapter 2 - A Sif/Loki Fanfiction
It Takes Two To Tango
Chapter 2
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 2 of 10?
Word Count - 2, 591 words
Previous Chapters - Chapter 1.
Hi! 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 2
It was not often that Loki was surprised and caught unawares, and certainly not by someone usually so incredibly predictable as Sif. He always prided himself on being the one to trick others, of predicting them enough to know their actions before even they did. Yet in less than a minute, Sif had not only left him sputtering as she had dragged him away, but now she had him speechless. It did not help matters when he found himself remembering when he had last been dragged around here by a fine maiden. It took only a mere heartbeat to know that was far from Sif’s intention and he quickly pushed that fleeting thought aside. It never did do any good to let thoughts like that linger; everyone knew Sif was meant for his brother. Even that seemed less incredulous than this request though and he struggled to maintain his composure. Teach her to dance? What in all the nine realms was she asking that of him for?
He just about managed to stop his smirk from slipping. He was proud of his smirk, enjoyed how it got on people’s nerves, especially Sif’s, and he did so take pleasure in annoying her. It helped make it easier to push down those inappropriate emotions that all too often invaded his heart. Judging by her deepening scowl, this time was no exception and she jabbed her finger harder into his chest. Just to infuriate her further, he waited a few moments to respond, widening his smirk as his mind quickly thought through the possibilities. It was not easy, trying to think with Sif this close and so, maintaining as little actual contact with her as possible, he gently rested only the tips of his fingers on her shoulders and pushed backwards. The movement had little force, but it caught Sif unawares and she stepped back suddenly, her surprise only deepening Loki’s devious smile. “And why, my Lady Sif, do you ask this of me?”
The first response from Sif was to glare at him further. She could tell from his sly expression he was going to enjoy watching her suffer and for a fleeting moment she was tempted to just turn around and walk away. Surely the trauma and embarrassment of dancing lessons could not surpass the indignity of suffering under Loki’s favour. As her irritation grew though, so did her determination and she dug her heels into the ground, clenching her fists to resist the urge to punch him. She was a warrior, or training to be, who had already faced all manner of foe and she would not see her courage wane now under the mocking and mischievous eyes of the trickster. Instead, after she felt she had glared at him long enough, she spoke, her voice full of contempt to ensure Loki understood how much she disliked having to ask him for anything. “And I thought you were meant to be clever! Why do you think? I need to know how to dance and you seem like the logical choice.”
When Loki raised his eyebrow at her, his smugness increasing, Sif decided to continue, though she was careful not to flatter him. “Well, I can hardly ask Thor can I! Neither Fandral or Volstagg can keep a secret and Hogun would no doubt find it far too eccentric to even consider!” She narrowed her eyes at him further, “That leaves me no choice but to ask you, Loki.” Obviously, Sif did not add that, out of them all, she expected Loki to be the best dancer, for whenever they fought, he always had a strange grace about him, fighting with skill and precision and not the brute force of so many warriors.
“Oh how you flatter me, Lady Sif. I do not think I can take such fine compliments from you.”
Sif rolled her eyes at Loki’s mocking tone, before glaring once more. “You do know how to dance? I assumed as a Prince of Asgard, who has attended balls before, you would at least have a vague idea?”
“And the flattery turns to mockery, Lady Sif. Oh how you wound me.” At this, he held his hands over his heart in feigned injury. “You have so little faith in me; I am surprised you trust me to keep this secret.”
“I do not, Loki!” Sif snapped, scowling as she took a threatening step towards him. “I merely assume you would dislike for people to know as much as I would.” She was already tired of his games, but she was not going to back out now. “Are you going to help me, or not?”
A thoughtful expression replaced Loki’s smirk for a moment, but Sif was not fooled. She knew full well he had decided his decision as soon as it was asked. Eventually, when he obviously felt he had toyed with her enough, he deigned to say, “My Lady, I feel so common for asking this, but, what is in it for me?”
Whilst Sif would call Loki a friend, if pressed, she knew full well the trickster was not known for his kindness and charitable behaviour. His reply then was no surprise, expected even, yet it was the final straw for Sif and her anger and irritation flared to life. Before she even realised what she was doing, she stepped forwards, grabbed Loki by the collar, lifted him up and pushed him back against the wall. She only felt a small measure of guilt when she heard the bang of his skull hitting the wall. It served him right after all and she had dealt him worse blows than that in the training grounds. Her guilt eased completely when Loki’s only reaction was to look down at her haughtily and she pushed him harder, annoyed at herself for displaying her anger so blatantly. “I could threaten you, Loki, or challenge you to a fight.”
At Loki’s condescending smirk, Sif shoved him backwards once more in frustration, before suddenly releasing her hold so he fell to the ground. Sadly for her, he found his footing immediately and merely rolled his eyes in pretend exasperation, brushing down his tunic and straightening his collar with far too much superiority. “I would have thought even someone like you would realise that threatening me is not the best way to acquire my… full cooperation.”
Sif glared at him, but she could see the sense in his words. She crossed her arms in anger, though in part it was to resist the urge to push him back against the wall. “Fine! What do you want?”
Loki smirked and looked thoughtful simultaneously, not an easy trick, but Loki had done his best to perfect that expression; it came in particularly helpful with Thor. The possibilities of Sif being in his debt were delicious, to the say the least, and he did not want to miss making her squirm. He liked the idea of having power over her, of seeing her suffer somewhat. It was a strange sort of satisfying irony, a revenge for the way she had always treated him as inferior and the knowledge that she would always favour his brother…
He came to his answer quickly, but he waited a good few moments before he shared it with Sif. “Two things.” He paused and waited for Sif to react, only continuing when her glare intensified. “Firstly, I need someone tolerably intelligent to help write up my study notes. As the ball is less than a fortnight away, and…” Here he paused and made a point of looking Sif up and down contemptuously, his smirk turning into a distasteful frown. “As I can see we clearly have our work cut out, it would require a large amount of my time.”
Sif did her best to not squirm under his penetrating and mocking gaze, though she could not help but bristle under Loki’s barely concealed insults. The fact that her skin seemed to tingle slightly, and her heartbeat quicken, merely added to her irritation.
Loki’s smirk returned and he continued mischievously, “I would therefore require four weeks of your time to compensate.”
“Four weeks!” Sif cried indignantly. That was more than returning the favour, that was blatantly taking advantage of her misfortune! “That is completely ridiculous, two weeks, at most!”
Loki merely shrugged his shoulders and held out his hands in mock surrender, causing Sif to jab her finger in his chest once more, unable to quite contain her irritation. “Fine, three weeks!”
At Loki’s exaggerated sigh, Sif glared at him ferociously, but she knew she had no choice, he had her pretty much at his mercy and they both knew it. Beside, she was loathed to give Loki the satisfaction of backing out now, if that was his aim. “Okay, fine, four weeks, after the ball, when I know you have fulfilled your end of the bargain
“But of course. Though your lack of trust in me is quite hurtful, my dear Lady.”
“And you always give me good reason, Loki Odinson! And your second request?”
Her question made Loki’s smirk falter momentarily and a fleeting, unreadable expression crossed his face, before the mischief returned to his eyes. “I would like you to save the last dance for me.”
Sif blinked in surprise, ignoring the way her heart seemed to jump at the thought. What an odd thing to ask, though it did not seem too important and no doubt she would have been expected to dance with the second prince anyway. “Alright!” She nodded and was about to spit into her hand, when Loki suddenly reached out and grabbed it.
The movement surprised Sif and she quickly pulled her hand away, her skin suddenly burning at his touch. She looked up, her breath catching in her throat as she met Loki’s gaze; he looked almost as surprised and unsettled by his reaction as she had. His smirk had fallen and a strange intensity seemed to flicker within his eyes for the briefest of moments. His voice, when he spoke, was thick, heavy, “I think we are old enough now to not require such silly, childish behaviour.”
Sif nodded, shrugging her shoulders in false nonchalance, pushing down the sudden, inexplicable tightness within her. She quickly held out her hand to him, before she lost her nerve. He looked at it warily, as if afraid it would strike, then reached over and shook it, hastily, letting go of it almost immediately.
Still feeling distinctly uncomfortable and unsettled, she quickly turned on her heel and stormed off, feeling a strange, overriding need to be away from Loki’s presence. It was almost a fear, a caution, creeping through her veins, heightened by the feel of his eyes boring intensely into her back. Just as she was about to pass out of his sight, she heard him call her name, his tone back to its usual mocking playfulness and she was thoroughly tempted to ignore it. She stopped, but did not give him the satisfaction of turning around.
“Meet me in the forest, after your weapons training, tomorrow.”
A brief pause from Sif, then she continued to march away, trying to outpace the odd, fluttering in her heart and the gnawing feeling in her mind that this was not such a good idea, after all…
The banqueting hall was Sif’s destination and she did not slow her pace until she reached it. Even then she quickly marched over to her friends, already tucking into the finest foods Asgard had to other. They looked up warily as she approached and drew back from her slightly, anxious looks passing between them. They could clearly see her mood had little improved and they were ever cautious. Even away from the training grounds, an angry Sif was not to be trifled with. It was, of course, poor Hogun yet again who got pushed, this time to the side so that the spare space was next to him and Sif slumped into her seat, banging her arms down in irritation.
Fandral, quick to react, called over a serving maid and motioned for her to bring food over, immediately. The maid rushed off in a hurry and Fandral was distracted for a moment, watching her.
“Where have you been, Lady Sif?” It was Volstagg who first risked speaking a good few moments later, swiftly picking up a chicken thigh to hide behind as Sif scowled at him.
“You left without me!”
Even the courageous Warriors Three flinched at her tone and Hogun offered carefully, “We thought you were behind us, Sif. What delayed you?”
At that moment, the nervous maid returned and a plate piled high with food appeared before Sif. She dug in quickly, the sight making her stomach rumble and anxious, even in her frustration, to avoid answering the question. She would have to think of some excuse, and soon, for why she was going to be disappearing rather more frequently lately. The food helped calm her irritation and gradually her friends relaxed around her. Whenever someone entered the hall though, Sif’s eyes would seek them out and when she realised it was not Loki, she felt an odd combination of relief and disappointment…
Loki did not appear that evening and Sif felt the apprehension in her heart and mind increase as she thought upon what the next few weeks held for her. Even laughing and joking with her friends could not displace this gnawing trepidation and if she joined in with Thor and Volstagg’s exuberant story telling with more than her usual enthusiasm, she hoped her friends would merely put it down to her vexation over the dance.
The anxiety only continued to grow as the evening wore on and followed Sif when she eventually returned home, having run out of conversations and excuses to keep her friends from retiring. It was only a short walk, but Sif always longed for the day when she would become a fully fledged warrior of Asgard and given her own chambers in the palace.
So lost was Sif in her contradicting thoughts and doubts, she was rather taken aback when she found her mother waiting for her, arms crossed and a thunderous look on her face.
“Where in nine realms have you been?”
Sif was used to her mother being angry whenever she returned home with ripped dresses and bruised knees, but this time her mother’s voice could hardly contain her fury and Sif stalled slightly in her march. She just about managed to keep her voice flippant as she responded, “I have been dining, at the palace.”
“You were meant to be back by six, Sif.”
“And I told you I was not going.” She turned and faced her mother, her annoyance overcoming her slight fear at her mother’s fierce expression.
“And how then, Sif, are you planning to learn to dance?”
Sif could not help but smirk, a smug expression she oddly thought even Loki would approve of. “Loki is going to teach me.” Then, before her mother could rein in her shock at this unexpected development, Sif turned on her heel and marched to her room, rather savouring the look of complete astonishment on her mother’s face.
She just about made it to the door of her room when her mother’s words followed her, “I hope you know what you are doing, Sif.”
“Of course, mother!” Sif called over her shoulder, though, as she shut the door behind her, she found herself wishing she could be sure of her own words.
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Anyway, thanks so much for reading and I hope you enjoyed it. More chapters will be on their way soon!