To Withstand the Force of Storms (A Loki Laufeyson Fanfic)

Chapter 4: A Broken Jar

"A society that gets rid of troublemakers goes downhill." –Robert A. Heinlein

*

2 months later

Clang!

"Bet you wish you could use your powers right now, eh?" Sif taunts as her and Annaka go head to head in a duel. 

"Not in the least," Annaka replies smugly, spinning and aiming for Sif's side. Sif blocks the blow with skill and lunges at Annaka, who jumps back, nearly falling into the fountain. She regains her balance by grabbing onto Sif's still outstretched sword and hoisting herself up. 

Their swords clang loudly and continuously around the platform and across it until they're both breathless.

"How about a draw?" Sif asks through heavy breaths, holding her hands up innocently.

Annaka begins to nod, but then darts forward and disarms Sif before she could blink.

"I don't do ties," she says. "Only victories or surrenders."

Sif grins and picks up her sword. "I should've known. Loki's fiancee would be all about that."

"I must be starting to rub off on you," Loki agrees, walking across the platform. "You get more sarcastic and sneaky every day."

"Maybe you should lay off a bit then," Sif inquires. "The last thing we need is someone else like you."

Loki frowns. Sif was still adequately upset about Frigga, despite how much time had passed, and even in a conversation where Frigga is simply implied makes Loki feel guilt and regret all over again. 

"Don't worry," Annaka assures her. "No one could ever be just like Loki."

"There are no men like me," Loki says, smirking again.

Sif rolls her eyes and stalks inside.

"I didn't mean to make her angry," Loki says before Annaka could scold him.

"I know you didn't," she admits, "but you should consider thinking before you talk. It's a good habit to get into."

Loki's eyes sparkle. "Is that what you do?"

"Depends on who I'm talking to."

Loki knows who she means. "How about a duel, just you and me, no swords, just magic."

"You're very keen on losing today, aren't you?" Annaka taunts, going to the other end of the platform after discarding her sword.

Loki laughs and shouts across the platform, "I know what you're worried about, but I would never hurt you. The most I would do is knock you off your feet."

"I'd much rather be swept off of my feet by you, but do as you please."

Loki's grin turns malicious, and he summons up a blast of green energy, shooting it at Annaka, who blocks it with a surge of her own. Annaka's blow annihilates Loki's magic and keeps going until it's swept aside by Loki. Annaka immediately scans her surroundings quickly, planning to use resources (something Loki doesn't like to rely on). She spots a small fire right outside the village and conjures up flying blue sparks from it, blasting them in Loki's direction and blocking his shot at the same time. The sparks narrowly miss him. Loki takes the sparks under his own control and whips them back at her full force, leaving Annaka a picayune amount of time to react.

"Watch it, I'm more flammable than you!" she yells. Loki just laughs.

Annaka sees the color dust they use to make paints and brings it to life, making an eddy in the air with it and sending it spiraling towards Loki. He jumps out of the way, but it's too wide, and he gets covered in purple dust. Annaka hears him mutter something incomprehensible, knowing she has it coming. She tries to manipulate the rest of the dust herself, but Loki beats her to it, sending a rainbow of dusted colors her way. She studies the colors on her: green, blue, purple, yellow, orange, and red. 

Scoffing, she sends another puff Loki's way, covering him in similar colors. Their battle becomes futile, more of an "I don't look as ridiculous as you do" competition. They run childishly around the platform, giggling madly at each other until there's no space for any more color on either of them. They soon ran out of dust, also. Instead of it being neatly stored in their jars, it's cascaded across the platform along with the broken glass form the jars.

"That went well," Loki says as they sit down in the middle of it all to admire their work. From a bird's point of view, it must've looked like a unicorn exploded. Annaka laughs and claps her hands together, a cloud of color making her cough. They hear a gasp behind them and turn around. Sif stands at the stairs, wide eyed and gaping at the mess they made.

"You idiots," she bellows, then looks disappointed. "I suggest you go inside and clean up before Odin sees this. I'll clean up out here, just leave, or we'll all be in trouble."

Annaka and Loki comply and walk inside to their rooms where they clean off and redress. They're both wondering why Sif decided to clean up their mess for them. Knowing her, she would've wanted to watch them clean it up and afterwards tattletale to Odin. With these thoughts scattered in his mind, Loki waits for Annaka outside her door.

"I like your dress," he tells her once she meets him in the hall. It's a green garment with gold lace trimming that flares out around her knees, with the long sleeves of it stopping exactly at her wrists.

"I debated wearing red, just to see what your reaction would be," she teases, weaving her fingers in between his.

"I probably would have let you wear it," he says honestly. "If it was what you wanted to wear then I would've allowed it; although, green does bring out your eyes more."  He leans in to kiss her softly, his free hand reaching up to trace the curves of her face delicately. Annoyingly, someone clears their throat, and they break apart.

"The evidence outside is gone," Sif confirms. "I'll keep this a secret as long as I feel necessary." She walks away.

"Does she think that she can blackmail us with something stupid like that?" Annaka asks, leaning her head on Loki's chest.

Loki strokes her hair. "Obviously. I wonder how long it will take her to realize that we don't care."

Annaka smiles at that. Over the two months that Loki had been free, he'd also been free from any Loki-ish schemes. He was behaving for once, and Annaka couldn't help but wonder if he had left his mischievous self in the past. She silently hopes he hadn't.