The Lady Sif (strandsofnaught) wrote in avengers_logs, @ 2018-03-04 00:30:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | -complete, loki odinson, sif |
Who: Lady Sif & Loki
What: Saying goodbye
When: Sometime after this
Rating/Warnings: Green
There were many ways of paying respects but Asgard had one long standing tradition and that was to honour their dead and aid them in their journey to Valhalla. Asgard may longer exist in place but it lived on in the hearts of its people and as such it would be remiss not to guide fallen warriors to its golden doors. Sif had known grief, more times than she cared to count, but with tradition came closure and the feeling of having done right by those who had come and gone.
For her it was not only Asgard she mourned but also Hogun, Volstagg and Fandral. They had been her friends, comrades in arms, the ones with whom she could be herself and trust implicitly in battle. She might be on Midgard but she could still procure items that would represent her friends and had done so in the form of weapons that would gift them with the chance of glorious battle in the great beyond as well as other trinkets.
These were items such as baked hams, Playboy magazines, beer, artwork and other things that she had been assured represented a culture that she felt if Hogun was still alive he would appreciate and connect with. In addition to these she had given from her own personal items a large amount of currency that she knew would gift them with revelry in the golden halls and around the table with their fellow warriors.
She had also spoken to another Midgardian about other things that might be a fitting way to celebrate the dead and had filled the boat with this. Her clothes might be dark but her armour was not, it was gold, silver and with a splash of red. It had been hers prior to her banishment and had not left her side even though she had needed to blend in and become one with her surroundings.
There was a bow to hand and the ability to light it on fire was readily available, but first Loki needed to add his tributes.
It wasn't long until Loki made his way to Sif's side, his steps silent as ever. In one hand he had a spear and in the other a scrying mirror. He wore his old armor, yet by the gleam of the golden accents, considerable time was spent cleaning it and mending any of the damage done when on the Dark World. It made a sick sort of sense to him, to wear such armor as he had when his worst deeds were done, while trying to settle his past with the present.
Not forgetting that once they thought of him as a friend, even if he still felt it wasn't so, Loki brought offerings for the Warriors Three in a large satchel. It was slung across his chest and looked as though it was packed to the brim. For Hogun, an austere black cloak. And for Volstagg five loaves of bread that would not doubt be inhaled in seconds, and a box of Pop-Tarts. For Fandral, an ornate silver hand mirror and what Midgardians called a blow up sex device in the shape of a sheep. Even at a moment like this, he couldn't resist a little jab, and he was certain that they would get the joke were they there. It was also retaliation for Fandral spreading those rumors about Sleipnir's parentage.
He nodded to Sif as he moved forward to reverently put the items in the boat, and backed away slowly until he stood by Sif's side.
Sif watched Loki closely as he laid all the items he had brought to offer and noted each thing that he laid them with care and could easily identify for whom they were for. She tried not to be touched too much by his efforts but she was, especially as she knew that his relationship with the Warriors Three had been complicated to say the least.
She glanced at him as he came to rest at her side and then without much further ado she spoke words that had long since been passed down, “Warriors Three, I bid you take your place in the halls of Valhalla. Where the brave shall live forever.Nor shall we mourn but rejoice for those that have died the glorious death.”
And at the end she pushed the boat out onto the water and watched as it slipped further and further away from the shore. Once content with the distance achieved Sif reached out to gather up the bow before she eased an arrow from the quiver, the tip was doused in liquid fire and all it would take was a strike to set it alight.
She granted Loki this honour.
Loki had murmured the words and names of those passed in time with Sif and watched with a somber expression as the boat made its way further out into the water. He let out a soft exhale and looked over to Sif, eyes widening when he noticed that she was waiting on him.
That was an honour indeed. One that did not go unnoticed.
He held out one hand beneath the tip of the arrow and a spark of magic set a flame upon the tip. He nodded to her once more, and spoke in a hushed voice, "May your aim ever be true, Lady Sif."
Sif caught his gaze and held it for a long moment before she raised the bow, drew back the string and aimed high. She inhaled and then as she breathed out the arrow was loosed, sent flying through the air and her aim was true as it ever was and it landed well.
The boat started out slow but immediately the flames consumed everything held within its confines and at first it seemed to be your a-typical burning boat but then as the fire hit the boxes held in the back things changed quite dramatically.
It was an explosion of light and colour as there was a distinct display of what the Midgardian had called “fireworks” as they might not be able to give them the send off they so deserved but they could at least celebrate them with as much fanfare as was possible.
Loki had been watching with a wistful expression until the first of the fireworks started. He blinked with wide eyes and glanced over at Sif, one corner of his lips twisting into a reluctant smirk of appreciation.
He turned his full attention back to the burning boat and the fireworks, clasping his hands together behind his back as he watched, his fingers clenched tight enough that his knuckles ached. There was much he still had to atone for, and even showing this measure of respect did not lighten that burden. It brought some semblance of peace. Temporarily, at least. He couldn't remember what peacefulness felt like anymore.
Perhaps only the dead knew.
"...a fitting tribute," Loki finally commented in a hushed undertone.
Sif eyes had not left the display of fireworks until it was coming to its end. Then and only then did she turn her head to rest her gaze on Loki. “I trust it will see them to Valhalla and into the embrace of lost friends and family.”
Her grief was no less palpable than it had been but she did feel as though she had done right by her fallen friends and had been able to pay them the tribute and honour that they deserved.
“I only wish it could have been done sooner.”
"You did not know until recently," he was saying as he watched it burn, his eyes alight with a sort of rapt fascination. It wasn't the same as it was in Asgard, but it was no less symbolic. "They would not blame you for it."
He said no more about his part in why she wasn't there to suffer the same fate. He had little doubt that she would have died bravely, defiant to the last against Hela. In a way, he was almost glad that he had banished her, if not for the fact that she was going to hold it as a grudge for a long while. Sif was denied a hero's death with her friends, out of his own manipulations.
Loki didn't turn his head, but he did glance over in Sif's direction, trying to gauge her mood and if it would turn even more foul against him.
Sif was well aware by now who was ultimately responsible for her banishment but she was also aware of how limited their kind was now. Some grudges were better not held for too long and maybe Thor was right, it would be better to keep Loki close than at arm’s reach. He may yet disappoint them both but only time would tell.
“I could do with a drink,” she announced. “You?”
That disappointment was coming, but even Loki didn't want to dwell on that for too long. His entire life ended up being a huge disappointment. One that he was trying not to dwell on either.
"Yes. I could do with more than one." He motioned with one hand for the lady warrior to go first. "Do you know of such a place where we might try to drown some of our sorrows?"
If only that would work with the weak Midgardian brews. It was the thought that counted most, though.
Sif gave the burning boat one last lingering look, longingly even, before she turned to make her exit with Loki not far behind. “I have found such a place.” Sif had needed to especially after the news had been broken to her by Thor and this bar as insufficient as its brew might be felt… familiar, homely even.
She paused and turned her attention to Loki.
“If I guided you would you be able to take us there?”
He abruptly stopped short, looking a little surprised.
"Using the Paths? Yes, I suppose I could." He tilted his head a little, studying her closely. "Would you trust me enough, to pluck the place from your mind's eye?"
Loki wouldn't fault her for saying no. In fact, if he was faced with his own self in a similar situation, then he would have said no, immediately.
Sif met his studious gaze equally and without hesitation. “Only with the understanding that if you attempt to do any more and you will find yourself at odds with the edge of my blade.” She did have the picture of the bar she had found in her mind’s eye so it would be easy for Loki to locate and draw upon for inspiration.
Besides the quicker they got there the more they could drink.
There was the faintest sound of Loki exhaling, a little exasperated despite everything he was trying to tell himself. With steady steps, he moved forward and took hold of her hand, his fingers cool against her warmth. There was the tingle of the spell being woven, moving through her, and he abruptly reached out with his other hand, tearing a way through the veil of things.
It wasn't without effort, for it was a brute force method without an already stable secret path, and not at all like teleporting. He could only do that for very short distances and if he could see where he was heading to. He nodded to Sif before they entered, and led her through a cold grey expanse that flickered and flashed with a myriad of colors that were vaguely reminiscent of the Bifrost.
By the time they came out the other side in front of the tavern, Loki was already feeling sluggish and in need of sustenance. He'd done that too many times this month, and had been in no mood to try to regain his strength again with food or rest afterward. He was so sluggish that he was standing there, still holding Sif's hand for support. It was better than leaning on her, which might have him meeting her blade should that happen.
He gave a wan smile and wavered on his feet, gesturing with his free hand toward the door.
As weak as he felt, his voice remained steady. "Your drink awaits, m'lady."
Sif felt the contrast between her skin and his and without meaning to she shivered a little in response and then she drew in a slow measured breath as the spell was woven and pulled from her the location of the bar. It was as they entered the space between that Sif felt a nostalgic pull on her heartstrings as there were colours of the Bifrost, the thing that carried them home and she knew that she would never know that feeling again.
As they emerged she noticed the way in which Loki swayed where he stood, indicative of the strain that bringing them had wrought on him. She also noted that his hand remained in her own though recognised it was more out of support than a desire to hold her hand and given that he had brought her to the place of her choosing she did no pull away the strength and support that the grip offered him.
"Food and drinks," she clarified as she pushed open the door and aided Loki inside to a familiar warmth and cheer that would not be out of place amongst the revelries on Asgard.
Loki would never want to admit to such weakness, so he tried to keep himself in step with her as she lead him inside. He was holding onto her hand even then, grateful for that solid grip, evidence of countless time training with her sword and shield.
He cast a look around the place and was surprised that the ambience of it did feel like home, akin to what he had once viewed as wasted hours sitting slightly away from the rest of them, as they regaled one another with what they had each done in battle. There would be no Fandral, with a tavern maid sitting in his lap, incessantly giggling at his flirtations. No Volstagg to eat everything put in front of him. No Hogun to rival his own self-imposed quietude, even though Hogun had seen fit to nod and grunt his assent as a means of commentary, far more than Loki ever deigned fit to do. Even Thor was missing from this, though he was no doubt dealing with his own internal conflicts now that the Asgardians were missing, and Loki had no want to intrude on a situation he had helped cause.
These were all distant memories, and equally unwelcome to him. He clasped on to Sif's hand for support as he looked to an empty table with a stare that was almost imploring. He began to lean that way before he even took a single step, and lured her along with him, until he could slump down into the seat with a sigh.
"If you order food and drink, then I shall pay," he offered, as it was the least he could do. He kept paying and paying in all sorts of other ways, as it was.
Sif said nothing as Loki hurried them in the direction of a nearby table and once he was seated Sif turned on her heel to make her way to the bar. It was busy but her presence was strong enough that it caused people to move and also pass admiring gazes in all the ways that had been absent in Asgard given that she had always been seen as a warrior first and a woman second.
Sif put in an order for beer and whatever meat was the finest and most filling which was apparently steak and it would then be followed by dessert which she had been assured was most tasty. With beers in hand Sif turned on her heel and made her way back to the table where Loki remained, thankfully. She had half expected to turn and find him gone as he had done that on more than one occasion in the past. Today was not one of those days.
“The food will be with us shortly,” she explained as she placed the beer in front of Loki and joined him at the table.
There was no ways or means in which Loki could skulk off on his own, even if he wanted to. He waited until Sif returned and gratefully took the beer. Normally he would have turned his nose up at the thought of drinking ale, but he appeared to have no qualms about it as he took a long drink.
It felt a bit off to not have the others around them, even as there was enough noise and chatter of others to make it seem like the days of yore. He set the glass down and appeared to be staring into the depths, in much the same way his mother would try to scry the future as she was weaving.
She never said if she ever saw anything there, which was troubling. Not even when he asked.
With a puffy cheeked exhale, Loki finally looked up to her, mustering up what inner fortitude he had left to strike up a conversation with the usually intimidating shield maiden.
"Sif," he started, chosing his words carefully as always, "we have not spoken at length about the banishment. I denied you the opportunity to defend Asgard, through my deceit. I do apologize."
Sif helped herself to a generous sip of ale and then turned her attention to Loki as he spoke, wondering where he was going as you never quite knew with Odin’s youngest son. What he said did surprise her especially as she didn’t think she would ever hear those words from Loki of all people. He had definitely not thought twice about banishing her. If he had not then she too would have died along with her friends and Sif knew that the battle would have been glorious and it was every warrior’s dream to die nobly in the defence of their homeland, but she found that she was grateful not to be dead. They had already lost so much that her death would have added very little value and would simply added to the grief felt by her fellow Asgardians.
“Apology accepted,” she said after a prolonged moment of silence during which she regarded him quite intensely. “I am unhappy to have missed that opportunity and I was not able to see Asgard one last time before Ragnarok however I do recognise that if not for my banishment I would not be here now.”
"No, you would not," was Loki's cautious reply, as he sat as straight backed as he could to appear as though he wasn't at all hindered, his hands lightly clasped around the pint of beer. "I knew that Odin would not have let undermining his wishes stand, when you helped us escape to destroy the Aether. And it was I that ordered you to take the Aether to the Collector, and sent you after Lorelei."
He was quiet for a long moment before drawing in a deep breath.
"I feared you would become suspicious of me, so ultimately...off you went to your bounties. I heard tales of you, and many spoke your praise, wondering at the reason you were exiled. As well they should have. All things considering."
His brows suddenly knit together as he frowned, and he raised the glass to take another much needed drink. His moods were so fickle these days, he didn't trust himself to keep talking for very long. It could either ruin things, or give away too much. And right then, he almost gave away too much.
Sif was silent as Loki spoke, taken aback by his praise, especially as it was given so freely and apparently honestly. It was not expected, it never was. “I did the only thing I knew to do,” Sif remarked before taking a drink from her glass. “And to my relief I was not only good at it but also quite successful.”
She sat back into her chair and crossed one leg over the other. “You are right, I would have become suspicious. Thor told me of the statue you had erected in your visage and the plays.”
More would have been said but then food arrived.
Loki had been taking a sip of the beer when she mentioned the statue and plays, and almost choked on it. He sputtered a little bit and tried to cover it up by taking a longer drink as the food was placed before them. He decided to focus on that, instead.
After a few bites of food, Loki finally decided to address that bilgesnipe in the room. Because he basically did everything that he only wished Odin would had done or said about him, before.
"It was a tastefully rendered statue, I assure you. I do have one of the smaller model commissioned by the artisan."
He summoned a smaller trophy-sized version and set it on the table between them. That done, Loki went back to primly and properly cutting into the steak, so he could take perfectly measured bites.
In actuality, he wanted nothing more than to just pick it up and eat it much like Volstagg would have. He never ate much before - his mind too preoccupied with potential schemes - but when he did reach the point that he needed fed? He felt like a bottomless pit that endless amounts of food needed to fall into.
Sif didn’t at all smirk by the fact she had caused the normally composed Loki to splutter and even if she had it was quickly covered up by the press of glass to her lips for a further drink to be had. At the summoning of the smaller version of the once large statue Sif tilted her head to regard it at which point her eyebrow lifted. “Are your horns bigger than they are in reality?”
She unlike Loki didn’t bother with unnecessary manners and she picked up something that Midgardians called a french fry and ate it with her fingers, the steak however was tackled with knife and fork.
It was good, tasty and went well with her mood.
Loki looked affronted, glancing over at the statuette and then glaring a little bit at Sif, like she was equating the size of his horns with some other shortcoming. He sawed into the steak with a little more force than was necessary. It caused the blade of the knife to squeak over the plate.
"I'll have you know, the size of the horns has always been the same," he said in a tight voice. "Impressive. That is the size they are. Impressive."
He stabbed the fork into that bite of steak and chewed it thoroughly, like he was trying to gnash his teeth into the cow it came from and rip off a piece.
Sif merely met that glare dead on with a thoroughly unaffected expression especially as how he chose to take her question was entirely up to him, she wasn’t about to apologise for whatever offence he had taken.
“I see,” she replied evenly.
Sif turned her head when the sound of music reached her ears and she tilted her head curiously as she noticed a young woman at a box where apparently the music was coming from. She had only ever known music created by bards and other such musicians and this was different, but then it was Midgard after all.
"You should see, as it is patently obvious," was Loki's indignant response, as he reached out one hand to grasp hold of the statuette. He made a little tossing motion and it instantly disappeared into that space between things.
He proceeded to saw into the remainder of the steak until it was in danger of becoming mince. At the sound of the music, before he could take a bite of that destroyed steak, Loki looked up and noticed Sif's attention focused on it.
"Midgardians have many contrivances for playing music. They are quite fond of their bards. I've grown quite fond of Florence and her Machine, whatsoever that is supposed to mean. They give themselves rather ridiculous names. She doesn't seem at all mechanically inclined."
Sif felt she would need to better embrace Midgard as returning home was no longer an option so if this was home then she needed to learn as much as she could. There was still much she didn’t know.
“Fandral was always fond of music,” she shared as she returned her attention. “In fact there was not one bard that he did not know the name of or could not convince to sing of his great achievements.”
She gave a rueful smile. “Not all of them true.”
"Fandral exaggerated his accomplishments in order to bed as many maidens as possible," Loki grumbled, his expression growing dark with the memory. It didn't take much for him to recall that Fandral was responsible for more than enough stupid rumors and quips aimed toward Loki, so he still had a grudge to nurse, even if he did miss that narcissistic fool. At the moment, Loki looked as though he should have a rain cloud hovering over his head, dumping buckets of rain down on him. He hmphed softly, holding his head up high. It was an indignant expression indeed, as he moved on from the steak to the fried potato sticks, which he ate by ruthlessly stabbing a fork into them, one after the other.
After a few of them were done away with, Loki's mood appeared to be heading more toward the partly cloudy side of the spectrum. So much so, that he decided to change the subject away from loss to future opportunities.
"What will you do to occupy your time, now that we are trapped in this substandard realm?"
“He did,” Sif agreed. “Too many at times.”
She ate a further fry and shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know, I’m not sure if this place has need of bounty hunters.” And she did not know if this world would appreciate the interference of beings from another world as it would seem they did not even appreciate the heroes of their own world.
A further piece of steak was eaten. “And you, what will you do?”
Loki didn't think much of this realm and it's incessant rules against those with powers being able to use them. It didn't make sense to him how this realm's heroes were treated like common criminals, and further added to concern that if certain entities made themselves known, that there would be little to stand in the way. It was rather stupid and shortsighted, in his humble opinion. Which was not humble at all.
He tilted his chin up higher and a mischievous smirk gradually worked its way over his lips.
"I have plans to ensure that the coffers are kept full," he said with great self assurance. "There are a great number of lost treasures in this realm, and plenty who would buy or display such trinkets. It would be rather easy for me to locate them."
He pierced the last fry on his plate and held it up, as though he was issuing a decree before the royal court.
"And," he said proudly, "it is without a shred of criminal or ill intent. Perhaps you might wish to join me, for adventure and profit."
Take that, Thor! Treasure and relic hunting was legitimate and quite honest work. And it was far better than his initial idea to have Thor sign autographs and pose for photos with oogling Midgardians all too willing to pay money to be in close proximity to the God of Thunder.
Sif watched Loki closely as that smirk took a hold of his lips and waited to see where that particular train of thought was headed. Loki was after all hard to predict at times given how mercurial his overall mood was, you never knew which Loki you would get. That in itself made it difficult to know where you stood with him. What you might think was solid ground would quickly become quicksand if you took your eyes off him for a second.
His idea did have promise as it would mean travel and adventure with what she assumed would involve new dangerous opportunities which in itself was exciting to think about.
Sif did not wish to linger if her company was not wanted or appreciated, she had done that long enough to know that she did not wish to repeat the past.
"Perhaps," she agreed with a considering look. "I do miss adventuring."
It was very true that Loki was quite the moody sort, but for the time being - despite his recent losses and sorrows - the footing was solid. Perhaps a little on the squishy side of the spectrum, like soil oversaturated by rain, so one might find themselves slipping in the muck now and then. It was better than quicksand.
"I am not opposed to aid in this venture," he said, still holding the fork upright and wagging it every so often, as though to illustrate a point. "So do take the time to consider it, and I shall continue to consult my lore books and the internet. It might interest the Valkyrie and Thor as well. I've only mentioned it the once to Lady Darcy, and she had no desire to stomp through jungles."
He popped the french fry into his mouth and chewed while smirking, very pleased with himself and his ingenuity. It would aid New Asgard as well,wherever that might be. If it ever got a chance to exist at all. He hoped it would, but he was also left a very ill foreboding feeling in the pit of his stomach. He expertlylied totold himself that he had prevented a catastrophe and all would be well.
After taking another last drink of the beer, he almost felt normal again. He was more steady than before, which was an improvement.
"I think it is one of the few avenues for adventure, given present circumstances. Unless you wish to pursue bounties. They do have those who do such things in this realm. Though the criminals are petty, and you would likely snap them like twigs."
“I’m told that’s frowned upon,” Sif offered as she finished her fries and did the same with her steak as like all Asgardians she had a very healthy appetite. She had not met the Lady Darcy that Loki referred to but knew that she had recently moved out which she suspected had something to do with whatever dalliance had occurred between her and Loki.
She was not about to pry however as it was not her business after all, and both were adult enough (she hoped) to be able to resolve it themselves.
Midgardians seemed to hold a power over the men from Asgard, Sif had yet to fully appreciate their appeal.
"They appear to be fond of their dungeons, if that is your meaning."
Loki shrugged a little bit, unsure why they didn't just have a nice flogging and get on with their lives. Especially if it was petty thievery involved. Instead they wasted time and money with what they called a prison system. It didn't seem very systematic at all to him. But nothing in this insufferable realm (filled with the occasional foul-mouthed, odd, sarcastic vixens) made much sense.
"I dare say," he added, "you would likely have to suffer through their registration in order to do anything at all. Or obtain falsified documents in order to find work."
Loki considered it a stroke of good fortune that Tony Stark and his paramour named after a spice had seen fit to bestow them a warehouse to live in and modify as they saw fit. He was quite fond of their home, already.
“I did spend time on Midgard during my banishment but I found it… I’m not sure of the word, but there was nothing here that kept my attention.” So she’d returned to the stars and to doing something worthwhile with her everlasting life.
She did not wish to linger or let her thoughts stray to unpleasantness so instead she finished her beer and signalled to a nearby waiting girl that they were ready to pay for their meal and leave.
“Shall we?”
Loki couldn't say he disagreed with Sif's assessment, nodding curtly in agreement. He set out more than enough money, as this particular part of this realm seemed so set on tipping the serving staff.
"I could not agree more," he said, waving it off when the tavern maid threw him a questioning look, like it was too much money. The food had been good and though he didn't often drink ales, it had served its purpose. "Though it is far more lackluster than we were once accustomed to, let us go home."