Chapter Text
A lot of the time, Sif didn’t mind being the only girl in their group when growing up. She could do things just as well as the boys could, if not better, and constantly set out to prove it. She could beat them at broom races and quidditch, even wrestling on a good day. She could run just as fast, climb trees just as high, and was smarter than all of those blockheads put together. Her parents were happy with her playing with the boys because she was ‘safe’ and ‘protected’ and she got to avoid having to play dolls and dress-up with all those other insipid little girls her father wished she’d associate with.
She just wished they weren’t so bloody overprotective all the time; hadn’t she shown she could handle herself? Even now they’d started Hogwarts — the boys a year older than her, to her annoyance; the year at home alone had been hell — the boys were ridiculously protective of her, never letting her walk without at least one of them by her side. Sif and the Warriors Three, they had been called since childhood, and the moniker was only growing more apt as they grew older. Thor, having Loki to deal with, wasn’t quite as much of a part of their tight-knit group as the other three boys, but he was just as protective of her as Fandral, Volstagg and Hogun. It was infuriating! The only thing she appreciated about it was that it meant most of the girls tended to leave her alone, intimidated by her friends. She’d never been very good at making friends with girls.
That all began to change when they got older and the other girls started to appreciate the boys’ looks rather than fear their height and build. Sif found herself the object of jealousy by several girls who had crushes on any of the four, and often had to stop people following their group while going about their business, girls trying to get the chance to talk to one of the boys — usually Thor or Fandral — or just stare at them longingly. Sif didn’t understand it; they were the same stubborn, idiot boys they had been a year or two ago, why the sudden fuss? They weren’t even that attractive, in her opinion. Sure, she could see the appeal of Thor and Fandral, but they were too… blonde for her. Volstagg, being a redhead, was equally fair, though a little too broad-shouldered for her tastes. He was built like a brick wall, even at the age of fourteen. Hogun was the only one she could really see as attractive, though in her mind he was still the eager little seven year-old who insisted he could beat her at a swimming race and nearly drowned in his determination to win.
She sighed to herself as she heard faint giggles from behind a bookshelf, knowing she had Fandral’s fan club on her tail. They usually hung out in the library, waiting for the blonde boy to arrive. “Look, Fandral, I think I’m going to go for a walk,” she declared, shutting her textbook. Her essay was almost finished anyway; she could do the conclusion back in the common room.
Fandral nodded, automatically closing his own books, despite only being halfway done. “Of course; I shall accompany you.” She rolled her eyes, flipping his book back open.
“No, you shan’t; you still have an essay to finish. I’ll be fine on my own. I’ll even stay inside the castle, I promise,” she added teasingly. He frowned, giving her an imploring look.
“But Sif, you know Volstagg will have my head if he finds out I let you wander about alone!” Sif resisted the urge to huff at his words; Volstagg could go hang.
“Then he doesn’t have to know, does he?” she replied sweetly. “Please, Fandral. I need some space for ten minutes. I’ll be back at Gryffindor before seven, I swear.” It was six forty-five, so a fifteen minute walk would be plenty. Fandral bit his lip, then sighed, nodding and picking up his quill.
“Fifteen minutes,” he told her. “Don’t go outside, and stay in lit corridors. Be careful.” She laughed, leaning down to peck his cheek mostly to annoy his fangirls hiding behind the shelves.
“Yes, Mother,” she teased, earning a swat to the shoulder. “I’ll see you later, good luck with the rest of your essay.” He gave her a wry smile as he looked at his open textbook with an expression of annoyance, and she packed away her things, shouldering her bag and leaving the library. Finally on her own, she walked aimlessly down the corridors, surprised at her own freedom. She had to admit, she could see where the boys were coming from; last time she’d walked around on her own, she’d been hexed by one of Hogun’s fangirls who was jealous of her after being turned down by Hogun several times, assuming Sif was the reason. Still, she was more alert now. She’d be prepared for an attack if it came at her.
Despite having promised to be back at the tower by seven, Sif headed downwards when she reached the staircase, not quite willing to return to the common room quite so soon. The rest of the boys would be there, as well as half of the house, and she was enjoying the rare solitude. Smiling to herself, she didn’t notice the other person in the corridor until he spoke. “Not trailing any shadows today, my lady?” She didn’t tense, knowing there was only one person who spoke to her in such a way.
“Not today, Loki. Not for now, at least; I managed to persuade Fandral to stay in the library, and the others are back in Gryffindor Tower,” she replied warmly. She didn’t think to tell Loki that Thor was at a tutoring session with Jane Foster; she knew how much Loki disliked the brown-haired Ravenclaw that held his brother’s affections. “What brings you out here, little serpent?” She hoped he wouldn’t take offence to the childhood nickname, though had it been anyone but her, she doubted he’d be so placid. She walked closer to him, stopping when they were only a few feet apart, and his lips quirked in a small smile.
“Nothing but my thoughts, I’m afraid. I wasn’t paying much attention to where I was walking. Not until I saw you, at least,” he told her, hands in the pockets of his robes. It always surprised Sif how little Loki had changed since there were small children; he had always seemed far older than his years. He was, secretly, her favourite of the boys she had grown up with. He’d never treated her like she was inferior or incapable because she was a girl, and had always been polite to her, even when he was making Thor’s life as miserable as he could. And she still hadn’t forgotten the day Loki had found out he was adopted, and she’d found him crying his heart out in Thor’s treehouse. He’d been eight, and she nine, and she hadn’t known how to deal with Loki so very out of sorts.
“Then I hope your thoughts are faring you well,” she replied, smiling. “I haven’t seen you since term began, and you were quiet as a mouse all summer. Are you well?” He shrugged, tucking a lock of hair back behind his ear.
“I am as well as I always am, Lady Sif,” he assured her wryly. It wasn’t comforting. “And yourself?”
“As well as I can be with every footstep trailed by the four musketeers,” she joked, making him chuckle. “I do love them, but they’re rather stifling at times. It’s nice to have the time to myself for a change.”
“If I’m imposing, I can leave,” Loki told her, already beginning to turn away, but she grabbed his shoulder gently to stop him, wishing he didn’t flinch.
“You’re never an imposition, little serpent. Though I fear the boys will go mad with worry if I’m not back to the tower soon. It will surely calm them if they were to know a valiant warrior walked me back, would it not?” she pointed out with a grin, offering an arm pointedly to the Slytherin. He hesitated, as he always did when she tried to joke around with him, but eventually looped his arm through hers, offering a tentative grin.
“I can’t promise a valiant warrior, but I’m sure I can escort you back home safely. Shall we?” Sif smiled, falling easily into step beside the dark-haired boy.
“Thor misses you, you know,” she told him conversationally. “He’s so dreadfully confused about what he’s done to offend you. He only wants you to love him as a brother.” Loki’s face hardened, and his lips curled into a sneer.
“Yes, well, we can’t always have what we want, can we?” he retorted. “Please, Lady Sif… can we not talk about Thor?” She sighed, but nodded.
“If you wish. Though I remind you, Loki, you cannot avoid him forever.” He chuckled, though there was no humour in the sound.
“That may be true, but I can at least try,” he pointed out, pausing before giving her a faintly amused look. “I’ll admit, I’ve never understood why you put up with him. He’s hardly stimulating company.” She shrugged, hitching her bag further up her shoulder.
“He’s stimulating company enough. Intelligence isn’t everything, and Thor can be fairly insightful when the mood strikes him. You just have to give him a chance and wait a little time for the thoughts to form,” she added playfully, drawing a laugh from her younger companion.
“Yes, well, patience is one thing I lack when it comes to Thor,” he replied dryly. Sif merely hummed, hiding her smile; she knew how much Loki truly loved Thor, he couldn’t hide it from her. She’d held him while he’d cried about the possibility of Thor not loving him because they weren’t blood related.
They stopped outside the portrait to Gryffindor Tower, and Loki slipped his arm from hers, offering a short bow. “I believe my escorting duties have been completed,” he told her, his tone reminding her of when they were younger and she’d been able to drag all of the boys into a make-believe game in which they were lords and ladies, and mighty warriors slaying beasts from far off lands to save their people.
“My thanks to you, little serpent,” she replied, leaning in to kiss his cheek, grinning when he didn’t push her away. She usually had to catch him in a very good mood for him to allow her to get so close. His cheeks were faintly pink, and his green eyes darted up and down the corridor to check if anyone had seen. “You’d better get back down to the dungeons before curfew,” she added, glancing at her watch. She didn’t want the Gryffindors to start coming back to the tower for the night and find a Slytherin in ‘their’ territory. While most would leave him alone, there were some who wouldn’t be quite so courteous.
“Indeed,” he agreed, stepping back. “Goodnight, my lady.”
“Goodnight, little serpent. May it not be such a long time before we next speak,” she added with a pointed look, drawing a sheepish expression to his face. “I understand not wanting to talk to the boys, but please stop avoiding me.”
“I… I shall try, Lady Sif, but when the boys are constantly by your side, it’s difficult,” he reasoned. She grinned impishly, smoothing down her cardigan.
“Then I shall have to endeavour to escape them more often,” she replied innocently, making him smirk faintly. She turned to the portrait, offering a smile to the Fat Lady. “Dignitas ab virtus,” she said clearly, not caring that Loki was close enough to hear her. She doubted he’d abuse the knowledge of the password. The Fat Lady swung open, and Sif turned back to give Loki a grin. He nodded in reply, already turning to leave, and she slipped inside the common room, wincing at Volstagg’s exclamation upon seeing her.
“There you are, Sif!” he cried, rushing over to her. Fandral was already there, an annoyed expression on his face. Guilt churned in her stomach when she imagined the yelling Volstagg must have done when Fandral had returned to Gryffindor alone. “Where on earth have you been? You shouldn’t have been wandering about on your own!” She rolled her eyes, huffing.
“I was perfectly fine, thank you, Volstagg. This is a school, not a battlefield or a marketplace. I’m hardly likely to get killed or kidnapped,” she pointed out shortly. “Besides, I wasn’t alone for most of my walk. I was with Loki, he escorted me back to the tower.” Volstagg’s eyebrows rose, and Thor gained an eager expression upon hearing her words as she moved to join them by the fireplace.
“You were with my brother? How is he?” he asked, and Sif held back her sad smile. Thor yearned for Loki’s love so much it was painful to watch sometimes.
“He is well, so he says. And he did seem fine; fairly cheerful by his standards, to be honest,” she assured, watching Thor’s smile brighten. She took the seat next to Fandral, who scowled at her.
“Back by seven, hmm?” he said pointedly, glancing at the clock which clearly read seven ten. She smiled sweetly, setting her bag down on the floor.
“Fandral, my dear, you should know better by now than to believe me about things like that,” she returned. He stared at her for several moments, then chuckled, shaking his head.
“I’ll let you off this time, as you were with Loki. But next time, when you say back by seven, I expect you to uphold your promise,” he added sternly, making her roll her eyes even as she agreed. It was the least she could do, really; they only meant well. Even if they were a little overbearing at times.