What if?
New images were now unfolding in Sif's dream. She saw her young self standing in the doorway of Thor's chambers, pleading with him desperately.
He was pacing back and forth, his face contorted with rage.
"I am a Prince of Asgard!"
He was bellowing,
"One day I shall be King of this realm, and you the Queen who is to share my throne. And you dare bring disgrace upon my family by fraternising with my own kith and kin!"
Sif shook her head frantically,
"It is no betrayal Thor, I swear to you I feel nothing for Loki, it was merely a mistake...in honesty I do not know what came over me."
Thor strode over to her at this,
"Do you suspect Loki has weaved some form of spell upon you?"
Sif screwed her eyes tightly shut, her head ached. She was confused and couldn't make sense of these events, so how was she supposed to explain her actions to Thor?
"I..do not know for certain. It is difficult to describe the madness that came over me. Thor it will not happen again..but in fairness you yourself have.."
She paused whilst deciding how to word her next sentence,
"...you have other lovers. And whilst I do not know if you bed them you cannot deny you court them. I have seen you. Only yesterday you went out riding with Freya again!"
She could see his anger waning slightly now.
"Freya and I..well.."
He faltered slightly,
"...we..well the fact remains Sif that although you and I are betrothed to each other, it is.."
"Nothing more than a sham?"
She offered.
Thor looked shocked, as if she had just struck him,
"No..but we are not to be wed for many years yet, and if our hearts lie elsewhere then my father cannot expect us to remain celibate until the time of our marriage!"
Sif's jaw fell open in shock,
"So your heart lies with Freya at present does it? Whilst last week it lay with some other maiden and no doubt by next week it will be lying elsewhere again!"
Thor looked seriously disgruntled by her outburst, but did not dare interrupt her as she continued her rant.
"You are mistaking lust for love Thor! But whether it is your heart or just your loins that lay elsewhere, 'tis clear that your heart does not lie with me!"
Her words hung heavily in the air between them, Sif could sense the impact they had. For a while they merely stood silently glaring at each other, when finally Thor spoke;
"You mean to say that you actually have feelings for me Sif? Other than friendship?"
Sif's cheeks flushed and she could feel tears forming in her eyes, much to her disgust. She hated anyone seeing her vulnerable or emotional, especially Thor. She constantly challenged him during weapons training, she strived to be taken seriously some day as a warrior in her own right. So to crumble before the mighty Odinson; one of the realm's most formidable warriors, was the height of embarrassment for her.
Yet for some reason she could not stop the words that seemed to keep spilling from her mouth,
"Yes, clearly I must..being as I even turned to Loki in order to try and make you jealous!"
She made to leave the room but Thor reached out for her hand.
"You mean that whole scene in the gardens was merely a charade? Who put such a notion into your head, was it Loki's idea? He is a master of trickery!"
"No, it was my doing, he cannot be blamed. I was seeking a reaction from you, that is all it was!"
Thor's frowned deepened,
"So you do not harbour any feeling for Loki?"
Sif shook her head without hesitation,
"Of course not, how could I? That is a ridiculous notion, Loki and I are as different as night and day. Just as you are different to him also. You and I have many things in common, from our fair looks to our fighting abilities...Loki with his dark looks and interest in the arts of magic...."
She paused, briefly before adding,
"...he's just too different."
The image of her dream faded to be replaced by a scene of Sif stirring in her bed. She opened her eyes to see a shadowy figure leaning over her in the darkness. Her momentary panic eased as she suddenly, for some inexplicable reason, was able to sense who it was...
"Loki?"
Her mind was still clouded by sleep. Loki straightened and made as if to walk away but she reached out and caught hold of his hand. His touch though cold, was soft and his hand was clenched tightly into a fist.
"What is wrong?"
She asked, her fingers tracing his in the dark, and then she felt it...gripped within his hand she felt the cold, sharp steel.
She practically yelped as sudden terror seized her and she snatched her hand away as if scolded, leaving Loki to turn on his heel and disappear without a word.
Fumbling to light a candle that stood by her bedside, her hands were shaking uncontrollably.
And then from the candle light, through narrowed eyes, hindered by the sudden brightness, she saw the long locks of golden hair that lay strewn across the furs that covered her on the bed.
Once more panic hit her like cold water being thrown into her face. She reached up to touch her hair and all she could grasp was short, spikey clumps. Instantly she burst into tears and scrambled out of bed towards the mirror which stood in the corner. Her reflection confirmed her fears; her beautiful, long hair had been shorn, unevenly as some stuck up in tufts, other strands were too short to.
She stared back at her weeping form in the mirror and felt sure of one thing, whatever she thought she may have felt for Loki, now it was nothing more than pure contempt.
******************
Sif woke from the dream with a start, heart pounding. Her first reaction was to reach a hand up to her head. She almost sighed with relief as her fingers wound around her long, dark locks.
Yes, dark locks. She sat back and found herself remembering when she saw it for the first time. How Loki had come to her feigning remorse for his rash actions and brandishing length upon length of pure, spun gold; made especially for her by the dwarves at Loki's behest.
The way the gold shone dazzled her, and her hatred for Loki waned temporarily.
As he spoke the runes and twisted the precious locks into her own hair, she gaped in awe as it magically weaved around her own roots, until it was attached as firmly as if it were her own hair.
But then that night, as darkness fell and the moon rose high into the sky, the colour had changed. Starting at the ends, the yellow appeared as if to drain from it before her very eyes, and was replaced by grey which then transformed into a deeper shade...black.
She recalled how she had sought Loki out frantically, demanding to know what trickery he was playing on her now.
He stood before her, his emerald orbs drinking in the blackness of it as he held a few strands gingerly between his fingertips, examining it closely.
He did not know...he claimed...and seemed as genuinely perplexed as she. However his eyes gave him away. Sif was sure the twinkling she saw there was mischief dancing in them, an indication of his guilt. She was to never trust him again.
Yet now she possessed more wisdom in her adult years, she began to wonder if Loki's acts had been spawned from jealousy. What if somehow, he had known what she'd said to Thor that day in his chambers? Perhaps he'd been eavesdropping and acted in retaliation. But why? The mores she mulled it over in her mind, she started to feel as if his anger was almost justifiable. She had, after all practically seduced him into a kiss in the palace gardens, only to dismiss it as nothing more than a calculated act to make Thor jealous.
The most ironic thing was that Thor had been jealous, but not from any reciprocated feelings for her. His rage stemmed from nothing more than his bruised ego. It had injured his pride because she'd had the nerve to kiss his brother, even though he himself indulged in acts far more lewd than that with many girls...And there had been many more since.
It was these actions that had gradually caused any love she once felt for Thor to ebb slowly away. They were close friends but nothing more these days.
And even though Odin still wished for the pair to marry some day, Sif had long since realised that all she had been was infatuated with Thor. She admired him and respected his skills as a warrior, but his moral compass pointed in a different direction to her own. She was not a romantic fool but she knew now the love she felt for him was that of which you feel for one's own sibling. She loved him like a brother.
As she dressed quickly into her studded warrior skirt and bodice, her mind continued to wander. Prior to the incident all those years ago when she and Loki had shared that brief intimate moment, there had never been a second glance past between them. He was a loner, rarely ever choosing to socialise with others of his age.
She had laughed along with Thor and Balder as they jibed him for spending so many hours studying ancient scripts in the palace library.
They had only exchanged a few mumbled words when necessary, and these were just the minimum of pleasantries.
But then after Sif's gaffe with him in the gardens and the incident involving him cutting her hair off with a knife, there had always been a strained awkwardness between them. As they blossomed into adults, they managed to remain amicable with each other, mainly for appearances sake. Many sideways glances had been exchanged; going unnoticed to the untrained eye. She'd assumed this was due to their mutual resentment for each other..
Though now all these memories were flooding back to her, swamping her mind like a river that had burst its banks. She found herself questioning everything she had previously thought and felt.
There was no denying Loki was handsome. Not in a rugged way like Thor and Balder, or a foppish way like Fandral and many other Asgardian nobles. Loki stood out from the crowd. He'd grown into his long legs, his shoulders broadening and making him less gangly. His complexion was like ivory and clean-shaven; unlike the majority of the realm's male population, Loki chose not to sport facial hair. He had a penchant for black and dark green clothing and wore combined leather armour most of the time rather than just plate.
All in all, despite her reluctance she had to admit....he looked rather stunning.
But in spite of this, he never seemed to entertain women. There must have been plenty of girls in Asgard who would jump at the chance to court the youngest Prince. But as he matured his reputation began to precede him. He was seen as a mischief maker, sorcerer and an unconventional fighter. This no doubt, would strike fear into the heart of any average female.
It was this that made Sif realise that she herself was not actually intimidated by any of those attributes.
She knew Loki was different when she willingly shared that forbidden kiss with him. And as for her previous excuse that it had been to make Thor jealous; she was forced to face the fact now that was not entirely true.
She had felt an inexplicable pull towards Loki that day, it was overwhelming and she'd allowed herself to be swept along by it.
She shook her head hard as if to clear all such thoughts from her mind.
Surely Loki had to be responsible for causing these memories to resurface? She recalled what he had done to her in his cell.
But why? It was though he was trying to help her understand something. The things he had said to her, about betraying him...and running to Thor. As well as his accusation that she always sought to make him out as the villain. She could make no sense of it.
Could Loki still be harbouring a grudge against her for what happened centuries ago?
And if so, why?
Suddenly a possibility ran through her mind that seemed to make her heart skip a beat....Surely he had not once had feelings for her? Or even less likely, that he still did?
She almost laughed aloud at the sheer thought. Loki, having such feelings and emotions seemed impossible.
Wasn't it?