(This was a fic I wrote for the 2014 Mischief & Mistletoe exchange on Ao3 - enjoy!)
There was a time, however brief, when Laufey and Odin were at peace; a time when Asgardians could safely travel between the two realms without fear of consequence. Every mid-winter, up until the Frost Giants violated the treaty, Thor and Loki would set off to Jotunheim with Sif and the Warriors Three. Each year, Odin requested they take the hunt as both an opportunity for holiday and to present the fruits of their labor at the annual Yule Feast.
Jotunheim was not the frozen tundra everyone who hadn’t traveled there believed it to be; not entirely, anyway. On the outskirts of the realm, far from Laufey’s keep, the land was lush with greenery and heavy with forestation. Vast rivers that bled into smaller creaks snaked their way throughout the terrain. It snowed almost always, but the ground was warmer than it was inland and therefore there were times the flakes simply would not stick. Game was also plentiful in this part of the realm, and the warriors agreed it was a most exceptional place to hunt.
On the first night of the journey, after setting up camp deep within one of the many forest clearings, the friends gathered around a fire to share a meal together and discuss their expedition thus far. Sif had hastily prepared a rabbit stew for her incredibly grateful (and incredibly hungry) companions. It wasn’t that they expected Sif to cook because she was a woman; no one would dare suggest that. It was simply that she was the only one that knew how to cook something without burning or under-cooking it. The two princes were useless in that department, growing up having everything made for them while their best friends took full advantage of that. No, if there was anything they would suggest about Sif, it was that she was the most resourceful warrior when it came to food and the most likely to survive in any given terrain.
“Excellent stew, I do say,” Volstagg commended as he scarfed down his third bowl. “Needs more meat.”
“We’ll have plenty of that when we return for the feast, my rotund friend,” Thor jested, slapping him heartily on the back.
“Not like you need it,” Loki muttered under his breath. He was highly irritated by the fact that Volstagg would dare insult Sif’s dinner when he had already eaten most of it.
Sif smiled into her bowl when she heard Loki’s comment, certain she was the only one that did. Since they were young, Loki was always the first to defend her, even when she was very much in the wrong about something. He was an ill-tempered git to the rest of them, but was always sweet when it came to her. Until recently.
“Here’s hoping the hunt goes well tomorrow so we can soon make our way off this wretched realm!” Volstagg said, raising his flask.
“I’ll drink to that,” Fandral agreed.
“You will drink to anything,” Hogun retorted, sparking laughter from the rest of them.
“Oh, come now Volstagg, we have only just arrived!” Thor said, ever the optimist. “Besides, it’s not so unfortunate out here.”
“I agree,” Sif said, finishing her stew to look up at the sky as the snow fell down around them. “There has always been something enchanting about Jotunheim.”
“Enchanting?” Fandral laughed into his drink. “You do mean dark, dangerous and ridiculously bitter?”
“I don’t know. It’s peaceful out here,” Sif replied, her eyes briefly catching Loki’s gaze. “Besides, I’ve always had a certain fondness for the cold.”
Loki’s jaw clenched as he looked up to meet her gaze. It had been nearly a month since the two made it known that there were feelings between them; one long, frustrating month of stolen glances and only brief kisses behind closed doors. They had kept their secret hidden from the others, unsure of when and how to come out with it. Loki rationalized that it would be best to wait (due to his own insecurities having nothing to do with her), but Sif took that as a sign that his heart wasn’t certain of her. She realized not long after making her affections known to him that she wanted more; so much more. She wanted all of him, wanted the whole of the nine realms to know that she belonged to him. In the past week, she had been avoiding him. As miserable as it made her (and it did), she reasoned with herself that if she couldn’t have what she wanted, what she so very much needed, she had no choice but to stay away. Of course, Loki took this as her regretting her decision to be involved with him in the first place and he had barely slept since she decided to brush him off. Every waking hour he wasn't touching her lips simply wasn't worth being awake for. Their lack of communication was in a word, abysmal.
