Loki: Storm of Swords

Chapter 60 - A Curse Lifted

Sif rode along behind Sandor as they scoured the Vale for Ragna. Obara Sand had been tasked with getting Rhaenar back to Kings Landing, while Ser Harrold Hardying marshalled his troops to its defense. The two bodyguards rode hard together, their heads bent down as they tried to read the ground in the fading light. Sif bit her lip relentlessly, tasting the hard tang of blood on her tongue. She was scared for Ragna, and scared of what might happen to Sandor should anything befall the child. The man had been snappish and waspish since the news had been brought to them. She knew he was not angry at her for anything, merely as terrified as she was that something could happen to Ragna. "Sandor... Sandor!" Sif called as he got ahead of her. "It's getting dark and we cannot see two feet in front of us."

"I cannot leave her out there in the dark and the cold to have gods knows what happen to her!" Sandor hissed angrily.

"Do you think I don't know that?!" Sif shouted back and Sandor turned in his saddle to glare at her. "Do you think I don't know what Loki would do for us if anything happened to her? To any of his babies..." Sif's voice trailed off. "It would be worse than the last time." She touched a strand of her dark hair. Sandor turned his horse and was soon beside her.

"It's not the punishment I'm afraid of. It never 'as been," he said to Sif. "No. I can take whatever Lord Loki can dish out. It's for her sake I'm worried. "She's a witty, pretty, cheeky, daredevil of a girl, and I-" but Sandor cut himself off.

"You love her because you love her mother," Sif guessed. Sandor nodded his head and Sif thought she could see his eyes glaze over in the starlight.

"Her mother was a sprat of a girl when I first met her. Real young. Actually, Loki and I met her around the same time. But, he made more of an impression on her. Then, her father was executed, and Loki snatched her away. I only saw her once before the end: at a riot in the city and he saved her from being raped. And then, when I caught sight of her and the closing of the war, she was already wed to him and pregnant with Rhaenar and Ragna. I swore an oath to her that day that I would give my life for her and her offspring. I swore to protect Rhaenar and Ragna from any and all harm, at the risk of my own life. And I would gladly give my life to keep them safe," Sandor said. Sif gave him a small smile.

"Do you think that Lady Frostborn knows your feelings about her?" Sif queried.

"I do not know for sure, but I know she's not stupid. I think she doesn't say anything because if Loki knew, that would be the end of me," Sandor stated. Sif gasped.

"You really think Loki would kill you outright for having an affection for his wife?!"

"Yes. He's not the type of man who wants rivals for his queen's throne; I don't think he would tolerate a rival for his wife's hand for an instant," Sandor answered. Sif knew that Loki was a possessive creature. In the short span they had been together, he had snarled and glared at every Asgardian who had dared to look upon her. This was a woman he was married to and had children with, and probably planned on having more with. Sandor would be dust if he got a whiff of interest. She sighed and reached out, lightly touching his scarred cheek.

"You and I both care about those children... about Ragna. But at this moment, we can't see the path before us. It's too dark. And if we keep pushing ourselves, we won't have the strength to continue the search. Let us bed down for the night and start afresh tomorrow," Sif advised. Sandor's dark eyes looked into hers and he finally nodded his head with a tired huff.

"Alright," he conceded. They rode their horses a little further until they found a narrow gulley beside a small stream. They tied their animals by a path of grass near the brook and began to bed down. Sif removed her leather armor coverings, but kept her chainmail on in case of an emergency. She was braiding her hair up when she saw Sandor move his pallet and blankets beside her.

"What-?" she started to ask before he plopped down next to her.

"It's cold and I ain't lighting a fire," he said as way of explanation. He turned his back on her and pulled his blanket and cloak close. Sif smiled a small smile and finished braiding her hair. She gathered her own blankets around her and closed her eyes as she rested her head on her saddle. The splashing of the brook and the soft sounds their horses made were all that could be heard in the deep dark of night.

There were stars out that pierced the dark veil like little pinpricks of light when a sharp pain in Sif's abdomen awoke her several hours later. She sprang up, shoving her knuckles into her mouth to stifle her gasp of agony. Tears pricked at her eyes and the burning pain continued to flair up in her lower abdomen until she felt a sticky warmth between her legs. "After all this time... and all these years... your curse is lifted. But, how?" Sif whispered as she slowly stood up and looked at her blood-soaked trousers. It was a growl/snore from her side that made her glance at Sandor. The giant of a man rolled over in his sleep so that he was facing her now. His hair had fallen away, revealing the full extent of his burn scar. "Him?!"

"Why?! Why have you done this?!" Sif screamed as she writhed in agony on the ground. Blood issued from between her legs, staining the white of her gown crimson. Loki looked down on her, the blade that had cut her hair in his hand.

"I lay a curse upon you, Lady Sif. I gave you my love and a child in your womb, and you slandered me and killed my babe ere it was but a few weeks old. And the curse is this: black was your heart and black is your hair. Barren was your will and barren shall be your womb. Until there comes a time a foolish man shall dare to love you and dare to hope that you love him," Loki had incanted, burning the wisps of blonde hair in his hand. Sif screamed her rage and sorrow as Loki walked away.

"What are you whining about, woman?" Sandor growled as he sat up. Sif gasped and stumbled backwards, toppling over a log into the brook. The splash startled the horses and Sandor started to curse under his breath.

"Nothing! Please turn away!" Sif begged as she allowed herself to crawl further into the water.

"You planning on freezing?" Sandor asked as he grabbed all the blankets. "If you wanted a fire that bad, you could have just asked," Sandor gruffly told her as he gripped her upper arm and yanked her out of the water. He glanced down and saw the staining on her trousers and he realized what her dilemma was. "Oh..." his voice trailed off and he quickly thrust the blankets at her. "I'll just... stand... over there," he stuttered as he quickly made off in the direction of the horses. Sif blushed as she took the blankets and tried to shield herself as she stripped off her boots and sopping trousers. Sif looked at the blood and winced. It had been so many years, almost four centuries, since she had bled, a sign that her womb was ready to receive a child. It hurt so much!

"You can come back," she said several minutes later, once she was dry and changed. Sandor stepped up slowly, clearly unsure how to proceed now that he knew what was going on.

"Do you... want that fire?" he asked as they faced each other. Sif looked at the armful of wood he now had and smiled.

"No, I'm alright. But..." Sif started to say. She stopped when Sandor's dark eyes focused on her. "Would you hold me? Body heat helps more than flames." Sandor nodded slowly and they lay back down on the blankets. Sif turned so that her back was toward the Hound and he scooted closer to her. His big arms wrapped around her, but she had to move his hands. She placed them both over her lower stomach and breathed a sigh of relief as the heat from his hands helped to ease her discomfort. Sandor stiffened as she melted against him. "Thank you, and goodnight, Ser Sandor of House Clegane."

"Huh! Goodnight, Lady Sif, Shieldmaiden of Asgard."