One Stormy Night ☽

Without a doubt, this had to be the single most foolish thing Sif had ever done.
Second only perhaps, to having once been romantically entangled with Thor....

Yes they had courted briefly during their youth but thankfully they'd come to their senses before crossing any lines, and realised they were better suited as companions instead, much to Odin's disappointment....

However that was a very long time ago, and the faint sound of soft snoring suddenly snapped her attention back to the present, where she now stood....concealed in the darkness of a closet.
But not just any closet, it belonged to none other than the Allfather himself.

No one knew she was here, and she could just imagine the look of horror on her companions faces, or the disapproving voice of Hogun, chiding her for getting herself into such a situation.

But, she had been desperate....desperate to uncover the truth, no matter how sinister it may be.

She'd been watching the Allfather closely of late, something she'd never really done before. Her curiosity had been peaked by his recent behaviour.

One would expect him to be mourning the loss of Frigga after her tragic death, and Thor now that he'd left to make Midgard his new home.
But he seemed to have recovered from this blow all too quickly.
Of course it wasn't really for her to question the manner in which Odin grieved, but her close scrutiny uncovered distinct differences in his mannerisms that unsettled her also.

.....the mischievous glint that was suddenly present in his all-seeing eye, and the way in which it twinkled at her when she met his gaze.
The quirk of his lips, that familiar crooked grin which was not a trait of Odin's....but rather someone else's, someone whom it pained her to think of.......and then of course there was the way he sat.
As ridiculous as it sounded, she had noticed a marked difference in how the King of Asgard now sat upon his throne.
Although he had always had a commanding presence, his posture now exuded a confidence and dominance that she'd only ever seen in one other.

Yes, only Loki sat bolt-upright in that throne, with his long leather-clad legs splayed wide apart casually. She'd seen him sat in it like that before.....when he was King.

She knew she daren't speak to anyone of her concerns, because not only would they laugh at her suspicions, the greater fear was that they'd be curious as to how she knew Loki's mannerisms so well.....and no one must ever know.

The truth was she'd studied Loki for a very long time, silently and from afar.
She was well accustomed to his movements, traits and mannerisms, the way he moved; from his purposeful long strides, to his casual swagger.
His facial expressions; from his eyebrow quirks to his multitude of scowls, frowns and smiles.....smiles which ranged from devilish grins and evil smirks to a broad, angelic smile that had dazzled her and melted her heart.

But she would never admit it, not even to herself, and she had always strived to act indifferently around him. Even going as far as to openly look at him and speak of him with contempt whilst in public, in order to keep her true feelings well hidden.

Mourning his loss had been most difficult. And she'd had to do that twice now.
The first time being when he'd fell from the bifrost.
His 'death' had hit her far harder than she ever expected, and when she offered the late Queen her condolences, the sorrow she felt was clear enough for wise, gentle Frigga to see.....though they never spoke of it.

...Then he'd returned.
In chains as a treacherous, war criminal. So although her aching heart had almost leaped from her chest at the news of his return, it had sank once more when she'd learned of his actions.

Though he had redeemed himself by sacrificing his own life during the mission to destroy Malekith and his army of Dark Elves, his death had most certainly broken her heart. For despite her reasoning with herself that she felt nothing for him, when she'd threatened him against betraying Thor ~ he'd smiled lazily at her in a way that made her pulse quicken.