NOTE: This is a Canon Divergence AU, beginning pre-Thor (2011) and then AU to that film and the rest of the MCU. Written for Mischief and Mistletoe 2014. In seven chapters.

Loki/Sif with Frigga and Thor and a very small OC...

enjoy!

The hall of Hogun's family was raucous with music, laughter, and stories, as ale flowed easily. Hogun's family was happy to see him return to Vanaheim, and they knew how to throw a party. Volstagg, Thor, Hogun and Hogun's uncles got into a drinking match, and Fandral went off with Hogun's sister. Sif had danced with Hogun's relatives, surprised to see Loki with Hogun's aunt when she hadn't seen him for awhile and assumed he'd gone to bed someone. The dancing was enjoyable, but it left her the sober one in a crowd of drunks when she returned to the table. She was on her second horn, trying to decide whether she wanted to drain it and catch up with them, when Thor started to regale the party with heroic stories. Somehow he was the one who fought the giant, and he was the one who defeated the riders at Fornam, and he was the one who ran into the cave to save the rest of them from the dragon nest. When in fact, he had done none of those things - Sif had defeated the giant, Loki had tricked the riders onto the wrong trail, and Loki and Sif had run into the nest because Thor had been too drunk to wield Mjolnir.

She would have objected to this rewriting of history, except she caught sight of Loki in the shadows beneath the overhanging upper level balcony. She was irritated at Thor, but Loki seemed furious. He was glaring at Thor, hands clenched, until he whirled around and vanished through the side door.

In a matching mood, she swallowed the dregs of her ale and went after him. His clothes usually made him hard to spot in the dark, but the lean silhouette in the moonlight in the courtyard was enough clue as he stalked across it, toward the stables.

He flung open the door hard enough the wood rattled in the frame and let it slam behind him. More quietly she followed, cracking the door just enough to slip inside. At first it was too dark to see, but her eyes grew accustomed to the blue of his small sphere of magelight as it hovered above his head and cast a moon-like glow over the aisle. Horses huffed and snorted, stirred by the door and their scents, but she could barely see Loki as he climbed up to the hayloft. He didn't seem to notice he'd been followed, climbing with a sharp, angry precision, muttering under his breath.

She was quick to follow him as the blue light floated up with him. In the hayloft, which was mostly empty except for a pile of hay and one sleeping cat, he paced back and forth, hands fisted at his sides.

She called softly, "Loki?"

He startled violently, so caught up in his anger he'd heard nothing outside of it. He stumbled a step, only quick reflexes keeping him on his feet. He turned, schooling the anger out of his face, with a smile on his lips that didn't at all touch his eyes.

"Sif? What are you doing here?" he asked. "You should be carousing with the others."

So should he, but that had nothing to do with why they'd both left. She climbed up all the way, pulling herself up and standing before she answered, "It irritated me, too."

His pretense of not being angry dropped away instantly, once he knew she shared his anger, and his eyes narrowed. "He did all of that. on his own. Does he not even remember how it really happened?"

Ordinarily she might have come to Thor's defense, and remind Loki that Thor was drunk, and everyone knew that Thor was a braggart when he was drunk, but she was far too annoyed herself. "Maybe he doesn't."

"Making himself not just the hero, but all of us look useless," Loki spat in fury. "And Father intends to make him king."

"There's nothing we can do about it."

He shot her a look. There was something about him that stole her breath. His eyes incandescent and striking in the light of his own magelight, as if they glowed from within, and his skin pale against the frame of his black hair. Thor filled the room, by size and temperament, bright and blinding as the lightning, and usually Loki was lost somewhere behind him, but in that moment, she saw Loki on his own, as he was. He was the beauty of the stars above the snow, cold and crisp, or the silvery moonlight on the sea. She could only look at him, struck to silence by this revelation.

His lip curled. "So we give up? We can't fight the inevitable? There must be something we can do." He gestured, and the motion of his fingers caught her eyes. Big hands, long fingers, so graceful… Not the blunt clumsy hands of a warrior, but the adept, clever fingers of a sorcerer and scholar. Abruptly, she wondered what those fingers would feel like on her skin.

She swallowed, and had to lick her lips as they went dry. This was new. She'd never thought of Loki this way. Suddenly all she could remember was seeing him fight, and sure it was easy to say that he fought from a distance, magic and tricks keeping him out of the thick of it. But that wasn't true, not really, because when he engaged, it was close-quarters, with not a motion wasted, daggers swift and sure. He fought as he danced, quick and graceful.

Anger and upset was lighting his eyes, and she was so tired of always defending Thor's casual selfishness. Was it not time to share Loki's anger, and admit that he was right?

"No, we don't ever give up," she said, and she pushed him into the wall.

Shocked, he didn't try to resist, blurting in confusion, "Sif? What are-"

"Be quiet," she ordered and leaned into him to put her mouth on his. He tried to say her name again, but this time not an objection, as his hand clasped her bare arm and slid up to her shoulder. That simple touch made her shiver, as her hands slid into his hair to hold his head to hers.

He got over his surprise at what she was doing, kissing back with an intensity that rattled her. His lips melded against hers perfectly, and his hand was on her thigh, beneath her tunic, pulling her against him. But their armor prevented her from getting close enough to his body, except for nudging her leg between his. She was on her toes and pressing herself against his thigh before she realized what she was doing.

She started poking at his armor, trying to find the fasteners, but he laughed lowly, pulling his mouth off hers. "There's an easier way," he murmured. "If you want."

His smile was mischievous, and she knew it was a trick, but she nodded and pulled her hand back. "All right. Do it."

She felt a warmth chase across her skin, stirring the fine hair, and then Loki snapped his fingers and her clothes were gone. She was standing utterly nude, and though first he grinned, appreciating his own joke, the grin slipped away as he stared at her as if he couldn't believe his own eyes were seeing this. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, and there was something pure about his admiration, not a tawdry lust.

She'd always been accepting of her body, but it was the first time someone else's reaction to it made something in her heart feel warm. Because it wasn't a jest or a lie, she could feel the truth of it, how much he meant it. She smiled at him. "Your turn."

The rat had removed only her clothes, leaving himself in his fighting leathers. She thought it was just a joke, until he dropped his eyes.

"I- I don't think-" he said reluctantly and turned his head.

She frowned curiously. "What? Loki?"

"No, you don't want- we're both angry at Thor and this isn't a good time, for something we've never done before, or-" the words fell from him, anxiously tripping over themselves, as he threw a bunch of excuses between them.

She caught his hand before he'd gone more than a step toward the ladder. "Loki. You can't tell me you don't want me, I don't believe you."

His eyes slid back to hers and though he didn't say anything, there was nothing but want in his eyes. She had the unsettling idea that perhaps it wasn't that he didn't want her, but he didn't believe she wanted him.

She tugged him back to her and gripped his lapels of his coat with both hands and pushed it off his shoulders and off. "No, we've never done this before. But we should have." Feathering her lips across his, she whispered, "Take them off."

He hesitated then closing his eyes, he stood before her bare. He stood still, eyes still shut so he wouldn't see her reaction, while she let her eyes have their fill. It was a common jest that it would take two of Loki to make up one Thor, and it was true that he was thin, without either Thor's heavier bones or his muscles, but as she saw for herself as he stood gleaming in the light that he was still muscled.

As her eyes managed to pull themselves from that hollow beneath his hip bones, her eyebrows went up and she couldn't help a little laugh. "Well, if you're thinking that you compare unfavorably to Thor, I can tell you that you certainly don't, not where it counts."

His eyes popped open, frowning at her as if he thought she was mocking him. She certainly wasn't, though, because there was nothing to mock him for. She flicked her eyes deliberately down again to make her point. His brows flared, taking her meaning, and his lips curled up in a smirk. She took his hand and brought it to lay on her breast. She shuddered under the touch. "Let's have some fun."

This time when their mouths came together, there was nothing between them, only heated skin against skin. He was sleek and taut under her hands, and his hair unexpectedly soft to the touch when she shoved her fingers in it to hold his mouth on her, as his lips and tongue made trails down her neck and the swell of her breast. His hand swept down her flank and hip, and down her outer thigh as far as he could reach, then up the inside of her thigh with slow, teasing care. He lingered, fingers rubbing distracting patterns into her inner thigh and nowhere near where she wanted them.

"Loki," she complained, and he chuckled into her chest, low and amused.

"Have to make it last, to remember every inch of you," he murmured, and lifted his head to look her in the eye. "To watch your face as I do this." His touch was exactly as adept as she suspected it would be, teasing her flesh until she had to bite her lip on needy pleas for him to finish her. Her head smacked the wall as his fingers found her center, and she came apart, one hand clutching his shoulder and the other making claw marks into the wood at her back.

She gasped and shuddered, clamping her legs tight on his hand so he couldn't move it away. Still recovering her breath, she was loose-limbed and leaning against the wall, when his hands gripped her hips and lifted her. Her eyes flared with surprise, not expecting the more aggressive move, but she tucked a leg around him and helped steady them as he pushed up inside her hard enough to leave them both gasping.

"Oh, ancestors," she groaned, seizing his shoulders, and bit her lip when his mouth sucked hard kisses into her collarbone. His hands were almost painful in their grip, but that didn't matter either, as he shoved them both into the wall with every snap of his hips. It started as a small rill of pleasure, shooting out from where they came together, but wound tighter and tighter, until she was breathless and still urging him on.

He was starting to lose his grip as their skin grew slick with sweat, but it only made him go faster and harder, which was exactly what she needed. Seizing inside, she let out a cry, nearly jerking free of his grip with her uncontrolled reaction to the explosions in her nerves. He wasn't long to follow, pressing inside her and against her body, every muscle locking up, then he caught his panting breaths behind his teeth.

Gradually, he loosened against her. "Oh Sif," he whispered, into her neck, as if that was all he could find the strength to say. Peeling his fingers from her skin, he let her back down. But when he straightened as if to move away, she slung an arm around his back to keep him there.

"Don't," she murmured. "Stay here with me. Don't run off like a thief in the night."

"Wasn't going to," He let out a breathless laugh, "But I need to sit down." Once he mentioned it, she could feel the quiver in his legs and felt quite smug that she'd done that. She let him sit down, on her cape, and she climbed onto his lap, not nearly finished with her explorations of his mouth or his body. Though he surprised her both with the ease of his mouth on her body, and how quickly he was willing to go again. This time with her the one banging him into the wood, while he looked up at her with wonder a counter-point to his desire, as if this was all more than he'd ever dreamed.

They ended up on the floor, wrapped in her cape, and they were both a sticky mess, but she didn't care. Pleasantly worn out, she stretched, tucked against Loki's body and yawned into his shoulder. His fingers idly caressed her hair with a soothing repetitive motion at the side of her face.

"Sif?" he whispered. She answered with a soft wordless mutter, too tired to form an actual word. "Never mind," he said. "Go to sleep." She felt the whisper against her skin of his magic, coaxing her down into sleep.

But she wasn't quite asleep when she heard him murmur, "I wish we could stay here forever." In his voice and touch, so gentle against her face, she sensed something vast and deep, something she'd only ever glimpsed like a flash rising to the surface and quickly suppressed. But she felt it in its entirety, that he loved her. that maybe he'd always loved her, and for that moment, he was letting himself feel it.

She was too tired, her tongue too leaden to speak, and sleep pulled her under before she considered how to respond.

When she awoke, she was alone, with only the ache in her loins to tell her it had happened at all. It was a bit of a relief that he smiled at her later as if nothing had happened between them, and she could pretend she hadn't heard anything or felt anything. Nothing had changed for him apparently, and that gave her some time to pretend that was true for her, too.

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