Legacy

Calculated Risk

The target dummies never stood a chance at remaining vertical and intact. Sif's glaive made certain of that. Each one's demise was designated for each matter pressing on her mind: each regret, each fear, each victory. Unfortunately, there weren't enough dummies. Not counting herself.

Sif fell back against the wall next to the weapons rack, out of targets, out of breath. She then slid down to sit among the spilled dirt and strewn hay of her victims. She was alone. She made certain of that. It was one of the smaller practice areas, the one she typically claimed as hers alone in times like these. The lower ranking soldiers knew when to give her space, unless they sought instruction in humility.

That was a lesson Sif could have afforded before barging in on Thor yesterday with her very haphazard confessions. Confidence and courage were no substitutes for strategy. She should have taken Loki up on his offer to accompany her. At least that way she would have been somewhat prepared for what happened between the brothers.

As much as anyone can prepare for Loki's tactics...

"I thought I would find you here," came a deep feminine timbre. Sif glanced up to see Eir closing the distance between them with unseen steps, her long flowing skirt collecting the debris in her path. Her presence was welcome, unlike that very constant and chaotic presence in her heart.

"Good morning, Elder." Sif watched as Eir moved a crate next to her and took a proper seat. She would never sit in the dirt.

"Volstagg has informed me about what happened," Eir said, her softest tone still stiff in nature, a stark difference to the nurturing manner Frigga had always approached Sif with. "Would you like to talk about it?"

She met her elder's eyes, their warm brown flecked with green in the morning sun, a lovely complement to the rich auburn curls she kept pinned in a neat bun. It appeared she may have neglected a few strands this morning, that or the breeze pulled them loose. Regardless of the cause, it was nice to see even a little of her hair dance freely for a change.

Sif released some tension in her shoulders. "Neither brother will talk to me." She began absently drawing patterns in the dirt with her glaive. "Thor is upset that I didn't tell him about Loki sooner. And Loki is mad because I took it upon myself to tell Thor everything."

"You made the right decision," Eir said, sweeping off the hair stuck to Sif's sweaty forehead. "Your timing has allowed even more truths to be revealed than we expected."

"One very ugly truth," Sif said lowly. They were both referring to Thor's unspoken confession.

"They come in all varieties." Eir always had her follow-up wisdom. "Does it bother you to learn of Thor's...intentions?"

"Of course it does," Sif said. "But it doesn't surprise me. Loki's past crimes wounded Thor very deeply, scarred his heart in a way...that only love can." Sif paused while her own heart sank. "Their battle in, what was it called...New York. It changed Thor, hardened him. It wasn't his brother he brought home in shackles. I believe he saw only an animated corpse."

Eir was silent, contemplating. She looked upon Sif with a rare intrigue, like she does with anyone whose offering her new insight.

"Thor's heart merely seeks closure," Sif continued, speculatively. "I think mourning Loki had become a simpler, easier solution than living with him. Where we once shared hope in Loki's redemption, I see now that I am alone in that."

"You know your friend well," Eir said thoughtfully. "He will not stay angry with you. He is lucky to have you. They both are."

"Are they?" Sif wasn't feeling it. "What if my hope for Loki is nothing but detrimental to us all? Putting my heart on the line is one thing, but when it comes to Thor's and Ollie's...is it a risk worth taking?"

Eir met her eyes again with a look that made Sif tense up. She was going to ask one of those questions, the kind that would spill out Sif's guts the way a blade could.

"What does your heart tell you?"

Did Sif ever call that one! And sure enough, here came the twisting in her gut and a flutter in her chest.

"I know you want what is best for Ollerus," Eir continued, "but what about you? What does bringing Loki back into your life do for you?"

"It ignites me." Sif's quick response surprised even her. She blinked, wondering what exactly she just confessed.

Eir cocked her head, her lips parting. She looked like she wanted to speak but held back, choosing instead to fix an expectant gaze upon Sif.

"Right. You want an explanation." Sif sighed. "But I don't have one for you, Elder. How does one explain it? It has no anatomical charts, or tactical guidelines. There's no rule book. It just happens, and I feel it," she tapped her fingers on her breastplate, "right here."

Eir smiled something sweet, and then it shifted to something tragic. "That is explanation enough." She then placed her hand on Sif's and squeezed. "Love never said it was rational."