The Bet

She was going to lose the bet.

It didn't matter that every man in the realm seemed to vie for her affections, for Fandral had (quite purposely) picked the one man who did not. Never, in their many years of being acquainted, had Prince Loki shown any remote interest in her. While tolerant of her presence due to her friendship with his brother Thor, Loki was mostly cold and distant. She'd have an easier time seducing a bilgesnipe.

Still, Sif was never one to go down without a fight, and the stakes were high. She'd be damned if she was stuck doing Fandral's stable chores for two months, damned if she had to hear him boast from Asgard to Vanaheim about how the fair Lady Sif was mercilessly rejected, by the prince no less. It wasn't that Sif was vain and truly believed every man sought after her. But when challenged, there was only ever one choice for her - greet it and defeat it. When all was said and done, Fandral would be doing her stable chores and, most importantly, eating his words.

"How long do I have?" she whispered, peering over at the raven-haired prince who sat on a nearby bench in the palace gardens, his head in a book.

"A fortnight," Fandral smiled gleefully, taking an obnoxiously loud bite of his apple.

"A fortnight? " she exclaimed loudly, followed by the shushes of her friends. "No. One month. This will be no small feat."

"Three weeks," he continued, a little too proudly. "I think we'll know if he has any interest by then."

"I think we will know sooner," Hogun chimed in, grimly.

"And what will satisfy your terms?" she said, crossing her arms in annoyance. "For him to kneel before the entire kingdom and profess his love? Dearest Sif," she mocked, in her most arrogant, Loki-esque tone. "You are the most beautiful, most entrancing girl in all the nine realms. I've loved you since we were young. You've stolen my heart."

Fandral roared with laughter. "Can you fathom him saying such a thing?"

"No," Sif spat as she played with her glaive, thoroughly fed up with her friends. "I cannot."

"The ball is in three weeks time," Volstagg interjected, meticulously peeling the skin from an orange. "Perhaps if she secures him as an escort?"

"Ah, yes," Fandral continued, thoughtfully. "If Loki accompanies you to the ball, that will suffice."

"Easy enough," Sif said cockily, instantly regretting her choice and tone of words.

"And... a kiss. Only he must initiate, and we must bear witness to it."

"Fine," she said through clenched teeth. Why in the nine realms was she agreeing to such a daunting task? She had always found the prince attractive - incredibly attractive - but his arrogance and sour disposition usually ruined it.

"I do not have a good feeling about this," Hogun stated, shaking his head solemnly.

"Nor do I," Sif said, startled as she looked up to find Loki's eyes locked on hers.

He immediately looked away.

Sif's first attempt at having more than a ten second conversation with Loki was nothing short of pathetic. She found it curious that she knew where he was throughout the course of her day, most frequently passing him in the cloisters after her sparring practice. If she was going to attempt this, it had to look as organic as possible. She couldn't show up just anywhere he was and expect him to be anything less than suspicious of her. Loki was many things, but he was far from stupid.