Forbidden Temptation
Sif's mind was reeling more than ever as she and the troubled Prince carefully picked their way across the terrain of Vanaheim.
There were many things she longed to ask him, but in spite of her growing curiosity and need for answers she somehow managed to remain patient...for the time being.
The silence between them made her feel awkward to say the least, but Loki appeared to be nonchalant and lost in his own thoughts.
The only time he spoke was to voice his opinion on her inappropriate attire, specifically her footwear. Sif responded accordingly by shooting him a fierce glare and reminded him that her clothing had been intended for a wedding, not an impromptu expedition across an unfamiliar realm.
Wisely, Loki did not pass any further comment.
After crossing numerous meadows they headed towards some nearby wood land as the light was beginning to fade.
Sif questioned Loki's judgement and challenged his decision on setting up camp in the woods,
"Surely there will be wolves.....would it not be wiser to remain out in the open?"
Loki waved his hand in a dismissive gesture,
"I feel safer when surrounded by the trees, in the open you're exposed and vulnerable....there's nowhere to run and no place to hide...."
Sif could understand the logic in his reasoning, but then he added with a crooked smile,
"..and why should I fear wolves? You're aware of the legends. Am I not father to one?!"
She stopped abruptly at this whilst Loki continued, chuckling heartily as though thoroughly amused by her reaction.
They headed deep into the woods, much to Sif's dismay. Her lack of armour made the situation worse; her bare arms were scratched by stray branches, her gown repeatedly got caught up; snagging on gorse bushes and thorns and her feet were stung by nettles and prickled by sharp twigs.
Upon entering a clearing Loki halted at last. He peered around, his emerald orbs scanning the area intently.
"This will have to do.."
He proclaimed,
".....as much as I have no wish for a dew bed, we have little choice. We've gone as far as we can today, so we must rest here."
Being tired and sore, Sif no longer had any patience and felt the need to vent her frustration on him,
"But you'd rather a dew bed than a marital bed."
She quipped scathingly,
Loki, who had already begun busying himself with the task of gathering up wood in order to make a fire, replied curtly,
"Sleeping out in the elements is just as cold as sharing a bed with someone whom you do not wish to. And marriage is for life.....I have no desire to spend the next few hundred years out in the cold, whether that be a forest or a bedchamber."
With that he dumped the few branches he'd collected and wandered off into the trees.
Sitting down on a nearby felled tree trunk, Sif pondered over the Trickster's words.
He clearly felt strongly about not wanting to marry Sigyn. Which confused her because after all, this was Loki. Was he even capable of such an emotion as love?
Heimdall claimed that he wasn't, and that he had a heart of stone. There was no way she could make any sense of it all.
She felt almost regretful for scorning Loki, perhaps it was possible to have misjudged him once again. But how would she ever know? His thoughts and feelings were kept hidden, so how would she ever discover the truth?
Returning with armfuls of fallen branches from a grove of stunted oaks, he now set about making a fire. Kneeling, he began ferociously rubbing two sticks together in order to kindle a flame. He did this with such vigour she began to fear he might dislocate a shoulder.
Even on his knees in the dirt he cut a dashing figure, and the fact that he was still in full regalia, save for his helm, made the scene all the more surreal.
She did not bother to hide her admiration when the smoking sticks sparked, igniting a flame in next to no time at all. She sat watching in wonder as the fire began to grow and before long it was blazing nicely.
Loki never moved despite the heat, he stared transfixed at the leaping flames. It was almost dark and the fire illuminated his pale face; the flickering reflecting in his eyes.
"That is a good fire Loki"
She commented at last, eager to break the silence and to show that she was capable of paying him a compliment.
His lips parted slightly and twisted into a crooked smile,
"It is beautiful isn't it?...Not one of my greatest, granted. But still beautiful nonetheless"
Her brow furrowed slightly and his gleaming eyes shot to her briefly; registering her look of confusion,
"I was once hailed as the God of Fire, remember? Before my gift was outshone by my penchant for causing mischief. Which led to the loss of my original title long ago."
Their was a distinctive sad tone in his voice.
"I remember hearing stories, when we were young of your journeys into Midgard and Utgard. The ancient mortals honoured you as such."
Sif recalled.
Loki snorted, poking at the embers with a long stick that he seemed to have conjured from nowhere,
"The mortals and their myths, that is all we're known as to them. They once worshipped our race as gods, now they worship their technological devices, celebrities and media. Falling out of favour with their kind troubles me not, as we were no longer popular once the religion of the cross came. But their tall tales which demonised me as an unworthy, effeminate Satan of the North with a weakness for bestiality, both vexes and offends me."
Sif could not resist letting out a burst of laughter.
His smile broadened and then he too chuckled,
"I would however, rather be referred to as the harbinger of destruction than some fool in a jester's costume."
Lowering her gaze to the floor, Sif responded hesitantly,
"You are destructive by nature though Loki. You are no fool, you're intelligent....but perhaps it is better to be known as a playful prankster than a demon...."
She raised her eyes and looked across to gauge his reaction,
"....if you've no desire to spend the rest of your life out in the cold, as you said, then perhaps you ought to be a little less self-destructive. A prankster is far more...lovable."
His eyes snapped to her's and she held his gaze until she felt her face flush hot.
She tried to convince herself it was the heat from the fire, but hoped he had not noticed.
Thankfully to her relief he spoke again, shattering whatever it was that seemed to silently pass between them,
"Lovable prankster I am not.."
He mused, his jaw setting hard,
"..I'm a destroyer, who spawns monstrous children."
Sif rolled her eyes at him,
"Surely you pay little attention to the tales the mortals told of you. Everyone knows that you aren't really father to some brood of monsters-"
"Perhaps not, but that is only due to all in Asgard knowing that I've never disappeared into the wilderness for several months and come back pregnant!"
He pointed out, interrupting her mid-sentence,
"If it wasn't for the fact that it's a physical impossibility the Aesir would probably believe it. I've always been rejected by the people, they have never accepted me so they will always think ill of me."
Slowly she rose from her position on the tree trunk and headed closer to the fire, where she sat down,
"It matters not what the people may think Loki, it's those closest to you that matter and they know the truth."
Following her lead, he now moved from his kneeling position and sat; elbows resting on his knees, his face cupped in his hands,
"There is no one close to me. And although I never coupled with the mistress of the Iron Wood and fathered her offspring, Heimdall would be more than happy to have people believe that I did. He sought to blacken my name from the start because he sensed I didn't belong among the Aesir. He knew I was different, that I am a monster myself, but as he was sworn to secrecy by Odin he isolated me by fabricating wild tales about me instead!"
Sif gaped at him, eyes wide in disbelief.
Could it be possible that he was actually opening up to her and for once and speaking honestly with no ulterior motive?
"The Mistress of the Ironwood?"
she repeated quizzically, hoping he would elaborate further without her having to ask. She did not want to push him for explanations in case he clammed up again.
"I did not know she was a Priestess of the Ironwood when I pursued her.."
He continued quietly,
"..llI courted her for some time until I discovered the truth, although I'd heard tales of Gulveig the hag who ruled that place, my Angrboda was fair in looks and character, so I never had reason to suspect they were one and the same."
Angrboda. The name resounded in her ears.
Her memory flitted back to the Gatekeeper's words;
"Loki has had lovers.."
She swallowed hard.
"So you were not lovers then?"
She ventured somewhat apprehensively.
Loki's nostrils flared in indignation and he visibly shuddered, which looked rather comical,
"Thank the Norns it never went as far as that and I discovered the truth in time.."
His expression suddenly softened, and he tilted his head to one side as though recalling something in his memory,
"...although as a result of her dark sorcery she created several formidable creatures. One of which I became very fond of, his name was Fenrir."
"The-the Fenris wolf?"
She stammered incredulously, the shock plainly visible in her voice and expression.
He nodded slowly, his face and eyes filled with pure sorrow, which created an ache deep within the cavity of her chest.
"He was just a pup when I found him and he became loyal to me. I was much younger then myself so I was naïve. It mattered little to me that he was already the size of a pony at just three months old.."
He let out a small laugh, though his eyes now shimmered with tears that threatened to spill at any moment,
"....despite his size he was harmless, but others feared him because he was different....much like myself. Anyhow, this eventually led to him being bound and he remains in those fetters to this day, though I know not where."
Forcing down the lump that had formed in her throat, Sif struggled to find any words of comfort.
Once more her natural instinct was to embrace him, but a conflict was raging inside her. A battle between her head and heart. She longed to believe his words, but couldn't help being wary. She was still struggling to accept his openness and sudden willingness to spill his innermost thoughts and....feelings.
"So this is also why I am a force of chaos and why I remain close to no one.."
He was saying now, his voice sounding strained, dangerously close to breaking with emotion,
"....I am a monster, no one would ever love me unless they were a monster themselves and even then I would only end up bringing harm to them. It is in my nature. So I am best left alone-"
"That is not true Loki!"
She burst out, startling him into silence,
"You need to stop thinking this way, you are not a monster and you have the right to be loved just as anyone else!"
He turned and looked at her dejectedly,
"I've become accustomed to standing alone...love is a lie, borne from childish need-"
"Your words are bitter Loki.."
She interrupted again,
"..and bitterness will grow and fester within you, it is a wasted emotion, love is not."
"To love a fickle woman is like trying to sail a ship without a rudder in a storm.."
He mused, pondering a moment before adding with a smirk,
"...or hunting reindeer over slippery rocks with a pulled hamstring!"
But Sif would not be deterred. She continued to plough on relentlessly whilst she had the chance. An opportunity to converse so intimately with him would probably never arise again. She had to try and appeal to his brittle heart.
"Not all women are fickle Loki. You speak so knowingly of love yet you cannot have been truly loved otherwise you wouldn't speak so."
"If I have been loved, then it has been unrequited..."
He quipped,
"...but I do know what it is to be fettered and ache with love-longing for another."
With that he abruptly rose, turning his face away.
For a moment she thought that perhaps he had heard something in the forest, but after standing still as stone for several minutes he finally broke from his silent stance. In one swift motion he removed his olive green cape and strode to where she sat. Her eyes blinked in surprise as he draped it loosely around her shoulders and she found herself briefly wondering if he was actively trying to avoid making contact with her skin.
"Perhaps you can use that as a blanket or fold it under your head as a pillow..."
He suggested, never once looking her in the face,
"...you ought to sleep, there are still many miles to cover tomorrow."
That was it. His heavy-handed hint, that was less than subtle. He no longer wished to talk.
But she wasn't about to give in just yet. She never had been one for following orders when her instincts pulled her in the opposite direction,
"You no longer have to stand alone Loki, am I not here with you now?"
Loki slumped back down onto the ground, pulling his knees up to his chest in a child-like manner,
"You did not intend to come here with me-"
"But I could have left yet I chose to remain here, with you.."
Her tone was desperate, though she wasn't sure why.
Perhaps she was hoping that he'd realise that she had faith in him and believed that he was worthy of being cared for and loved.
But in classic Loki fashion, he responded negatively,
"It is generous of you to keep your future brother-in-law company in his exile, though no doubt your husband-to-be will arrive promptly to rescue you from my wicked clutches.."
He smiled playfully, but she detected a slight scornful tone in his voice,
"...Heimdall can tell all that I kidnapped you, and that will be believed...it is befitting enough to my character."
Sighing heavily, she lay down defeated. The barrier had come up. He was no longer willing to divulge any of his secrets or thoughts. There was no point in persisting once he started with his dark humour.
The ground was uncomfortable but the fire kept her warm. It burnt all night long due to Loki remaining awake.
She awoke several times to hear the sound of the crackling embers, and peered across to see him sat stoking the flames, keeping vigil.
She pulled his cloak around her tightly, inhaling his sweet, musky scent. She closed her eyes tightly and imagined that it was him holding her.
********************
Morning came and as soon as daylight broke the darkness she awoke, Loki urging her on as they still had far to travel.
Her mind continuously replayed the previous night's conversation and although Sif was frustrated at not having asked him about his relationship with Amora, she was feeling increasingly pleased with the way he must have felt comfortable enough to divulge his innermost thoughts to her.
He'd shown a gentler side when speaking of Fenrir, and confessed to having loved someone.
Though in typical Loki style he hadn't spoken very clearly; implying that someone loved him but he did not return their feelings, and that he seemed to have once loved another, who did not love him.
However somewhat bizarre the situation had been the night before, she could not have predicted how surreal the events that lay ahead were to be.
After crossing a jigsaw of fields, yellow, brown and green in colour, they found themselves in a deep valley. A stream flowed out towards the coast that lay beyond, but upon hearing the sound of crashing water they followed it towards the mountains.
The stream became a shallow river, which led to a pool of water at the base of a waterfall.
Loki practically threw himself down at the edge, and cupping his hands, began to scoop the clear, crisp water into his mouth.
Without hesitation Sif readily joined him, gratefully swallowing down the cool liquid.
It was midday and the sun was at its highest point in the sky; blazing down upon them mercilessly.
Not satisfied with splashing water upon his face, Loki began removing layers of his armour. Sif could not fault him, the metal and leather were decidedly heavy at the best of times, without having to bear its weight in the stifling heat.
But as he removed one item after another she began to feel a familiar heat rising in her face that was not due to the weather.
She averted her eyes and concentrated on swilling her flushed face with water, but she couldn't resist slipping a sideways glance in his direction.
He stood on the river bank, clad in just the thin under-breeches that were popular amongst most Asgardian men, for wearing under thick leather trousers.
Streaks of water glistened in the sunlight upon his bare chest, and she could barely tear her eyes away from the sight.
Thankfully, he was oblivious to her longing gaze, as he was still fiddling with the numerous buttons and buckle on his breeches...
...And then the realisation hit her....he seemed intent on removing the very last item of clothing he was wearing.
With classic timing he suddenly looked up, his eyes meeting her gaze,
"What?"
He demanded innocently, pointing towards the frothing pool,
"I'm going to bathe whilst I have chance..."
He enunciated slowly as if explaining his actions to a dim-witted child,
"....this damned heat, it's as hot as Muspelheim. Are you not bathing?"
Hurriedly she returned to dowsing herself with water,
"I have no need to..."
She mumbled hastily,
"..I can wash here...there's no need to..."
Her words trailed off as he suddenly began laughing. He laughed so hard his shoulders shook.
Her brow knitted together,
"Why are you laughing? Do not mock me Loki."
He laughed harder still, so much so he was having to wipe tears from his eyes.
She jumped to her feet, kicked off her sandals and lifting the hem of her gown to her knees, and stepped into the river,
"I'm not afraid of a little water!"
She snapped, defensively.
His laughter gradually subsided enough for him to respond,
"It is not the water you're afraid of though is it?"
He rasped, smiling wickedly,
"You are afraid of bathing because I am here!"
His tone was filled with amusement, mischief dancing in his emerald eyes,
"Oh dear, the legendary warrior maiden is afraid of bearing a little flesh in order to wash.."
He taunted, stifling yet another chuckle,
"..after all you've achieved, battling in the face of adversity and even controversy to prove all those who doubted your ability to become a real warrior...yet now you fear something so trivial."
In spite of not wanting to give him the satisfaction of knowing his words riled her, she could not stop herself from glowering at him.
Much to her irritation he'd succeeded in wrangling her with his mockery, but she refused to react in the way he probably anticipated.
Her usually keen instincts and sharp, tactical mind had been hampered of late, but she hadn't completely changed in character. If the sly one intended to trick her into making a fool of herself, he would not succeed; she would not rise to the bait and enter into an exchange of words regarding her apparent bashfulness.
Being a warrior meant having to be bold....
Forcing her doubts aside, she stepped back onto the riverbank and walked towards the pool, passing by Loki on the opposite side. Halting abruptly, she threw him a long withering look over her shoulder, and before she lost her nerve reached up with trembling fingers to unclasp her gown.
His sniggering instantly ceased and the look of pure astonishment on his face due to her actions made the immense embarrassment she felt worthwhile.
He baulked at the sight as her gown slid from her body and down to the ground.
Focusing her eyes ahead, she stepped from the bank of the pool and into the water in a swift motion, feigning confidence she did not feel.
Wading in further, she did not dare turn back to face him again until she was submerged up to her shoulders.
She did not have the courage to look him in the eye, but witnessing the usually calm and collected Prince openly gaping at her made her smile with satisfaction.
As she trod water, she distracted herself with the task of washing her tangled hair.
The spray from the fall hitting the cliffside, made the air around the pool misty and the noise prevented her from hearing clearly....thus enabling the ever stealthy Trickster God to join her in the waters without her realising, until she turned to see him almost beside her.
She started in surprise, but for once he didn't even seem to notice.
Clearing his throat, he leaned towards her in order to be heard,
"Well, should Heimdall turn his gaze upon us now I'm sure this sight would cause his heart to fail."
He laughed, almost nervously.
"Yes, I have debased myself..."
She retorted,
"..you are a negative influence."
And she splashed him playfully with the water, in an attempt to dispel the tension.
Wiping his dripping face, he shot her a mischievous smile and returned the gesture, making them both burst into laughter.
She made to repeat the motion a second time, but he made a grab for her.
Swerving, she managed to escape him but he was moving towards her rapidly now.
Still laughing like carefree youngsters, she hurriedly swam away as he gave chase until finally he caught up and wrapped an arm around her waist from behind.
Their laughter dispersed as the moment of childish play-fighting suddenly began to feel far more intimate. He hesitantly released her from his hold, and when she turned to face him his eyes were filled with ravishment, which caused her pulse to quicken.
The atmosphere was heady and for a moment she thought she might actually swoon, which raged against every warrior trait she had.
But she was a woman first and he was intoxicating. Whatever she had hoped to prove by her bold act of bathing naked, seemed ridiculous now. She was not naïve enough to believe that this potent situation was going to end innocently.
He flashed a leering smile which made her almost dizzy with desire, and in that moment she made the decision to give in to his kiss, as he inclined his head towards her.
The sound of her heart hammering filled her ears, muting even the sound of the waterfall. His face was mere inches away from her own now, so she closed her eyes in anticipation...but the kiss never came...
Instead he jerked abruptly away, cursing angrily which startled her into opening her eyes.
And the sight that greeted her filled her with panic rather than embarrassment.
A group of armed soldiers, wearing armour, lined the water's edge; swords drawn in their direction.