Hello, hello, hello!

I'm back, babies! As promised, here's the sequel to "Trapped", my first Sifki fic.

Just to recap: Loki forced Sif into a marriage in exchange to spare her friends' lives, but it turned out he loved her since they were children and she unintentionally broke his heart when she started a relationship with Thor. As the days went by and Loki was the ever caring and loving husband, she was starting to warm up to him, but he overheard a conversation between her and Hogun and misinterpreted that she was faking it just to get Thor back to the throne of Asgard, so he sent her away.

So, we were back to the shenanigans of Thor (the last half), Avengers and The Dark World, and if you watched the latter, you know Loki faked his death and took Odin's form.

And this is where we are now :D

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters; I just play with them for while because I'm naughty :P

Warning: there's a reason is rated M, people. There'll be smut and foul language. Don't say I didn't warn you.

Apologies: please forgive any grammatical errors or misspells, because English isn't this author's first language, but she likes to think she excels at it :P

Chapter One

Sif was still in the palace when she found out he was dead. She overheard two guards talking to each other and it was different now. When he fell from Bifrost, somewhere inside her, she knew he was alive and well. It didn't matter what anybody said to her. She knew he was safe somewhere.

This time was different. They said there was a body. Odin announced it and even held a funeral service in honor of his last heroic deed. Unlike many citizens whispering around at the time of the announcement, Sif did believe he was capable of doing such a thing.

She didn't attend to the funeral. She didn't want to see his dead body on some drakkar to be set on fire. She sneaked into the palace instead. To the chambers they shared for such a short time, though when she thought back, seemed like it had been ages.

Turning the handlers on the large doors, she entered the room. It had been a while, but when she looked around she felt as if she had never left. Sitting on the impeccable made bed, she caressed the sheet. So many memories. So many sorrows. What hurt most was that she was certain if he had stayed with her and agreed to her plan of getting away from the throne, they would be together and most important, he would be alive.

"Idiot…" She whispered to herself as she lay down on the bed, finally letting herself cry. For him, for her, for what could have happened and now was lost for good.

She was startled from her sleep when a hand shook her arm gently. Focusing her eyes, she looked at the face of 'Odin'.

"Your Majesty!" She sat up, swinging her legs out of the bed, ready to get up, but he put a calming hand on her shoulder.

"There's no need to get rush away, Lady Sif."

"I… I…The door was open and I…"

"I understand." The smiling king sat at the foot of the bed and she could see how tired he looked. "You miss him… don't you?" He tried not to sound too eager, but even if he did, Sif was too distraught to notice.

She looked up at him, surprised at his question. "I… I just…" She felt the forming tears sting her eyes. "I am sorry…"

"It's all right, dear. "

Sif sniffed. "I'm sorry he died hating me because he misunderstood my intentions. And I'm sorry he died before he… before we could make things right."

"He died as a hero." 'Odin' pointed.

"It sounds like him alright. Having to sacrifice himself so something good comes out of him. That's as melodramatic as he gets." She added bitterly.

'Odin' frowned at her words, then chuckled soundly. "Maybe you're right. If you want to stay, Lady Sif, you're welcome."

She shook her head. "I'm grateful to your kindness, my King, but I don't think I can."

He comprehended her expression. Staying in that room alone would be too painful now. Nodding, he got up. "Stay as long as you need, then. If you'll excuse me, I'll retire to my chambers."

"I understand. You should rest, Your Majesty. I'll be leaving soon."

He patted a hand on her shoulder as a reassuring gesture, caressing a stray strand of her dark hair, the movement so subtle she didn't notice.

As she walked out of the palace, she heard Fandral called out to her. She rolled her eyes and kept walking. She knew her friend would be happy with the recent events, with reason, but she really didn't want to hear him list the reasons why the realm was better off without the Trickster. The blonde warrior didn't give up and ran after her, reaching his hands out.

"Come here."

"Fuck off, Fandral!"

He managed to grab her arm to keep her from walking further away, but she yanked her arm out of his grasp angrily and pushed him away.

"What is it with you? Shouldn't you be celebrating somewhere? Isn't that what you wanted?"

"Actually, no. He should be locked away and pay for his crimes, not dead. But it doesn't matter I think. You think I don't know?"

"Know what?"

"You're in love with him." Sif scoffed. "You can try to hide all you want but I know you too well. I saw the look on your face the day you learned he had fallen from Bifrost. That was when I was certain, because I suspected it since your 'marriage' to him was over. You weren't the same anymore."

She casted her eyes away from her friend, her lips trembling and her eyes brimming with unshed tears.

"You don't have to confirm or confess anything to me. It's not my place to judge. You said he was different to you, and I believe that. He couldn't be an asshole to everyone. Like I said, my opinion doesn't matter. Now let me be a good friend and hold you while you grieve for your lost love."

She didn't move, so he had to pull her to his arms to hug her. Sif sniffed, but was determined not to cry. She never liked crying in front of other people, not even her friends.

"If he had listened to me…" Her shaking voice sounded muffled in his shirt.

He pushed her at arm's length. "No point in torturing yourself with this now, Sif. You tried your best with him; if he elected to ignore that, it was his loss."

She shook her head. "We never had a chance to sort things out. He refused to see me when he was in prison. He still believed I lied to him. He hated me. He…"

"Hey. Hey. Hey! No. You're not doing this to yourself! It is not your fault. It's over. Either we will drink on it or you're going to suck it up like a good warrior."

Sif smiled and Fandral smiled back. "Thank you, Fandral. I'll pass the drink for tonight, but thank you."

"All right. Some other day then." She nodded. "Come on, let me walk you home." He embraced her shoulder as they walked the nearly empty streets of Asgard.

Lady Sif woke up feeling much better. Or at least she tried to assure herself and her family that she was. She would, anyway, once she resumed her sword practice. Beating conceited soldiers always made her feel better, especially when they acted in a condescending manner about fighting a woman, and their subsequently shame at being beaten by said woman. This made her smile genuinely for the first time in who knows how long.

She arrived at the arena and it was crowded. She searched around for her friends, but couldn't see any of them among so many soldiers. A hand tapped on her shoulder and she turned around to find a young man smiling.

"Looking for a partner of training?"

She eyed him up and down. He looked younger than her, but a little taller; he wasn't muscular, but had the proper body of a warrior in training. He had a scruffy beard, blonde, like his hair. She didn't remember having seen him before.

"And you are…?"

"Olaf!" He announced happily and reached out a hand at her. Sif merely raised a brow and he dropped his hand, an embarrassed smile on his face.

"Let me guess. You made a wager with a group of assholes you call friends, that you would knock down the Warrior Lady and shame her in front of everyone else, proving she is nothing but a woman like any other and should get herself a man."

He stared at her dumbfounded, before scratching his head and smiling sheepishly. "Uh… well, they didn't say with these words..."

She snorted and turned on her heels, walking away from him.

He followed her. "I'm sorry, I just… There are so many stories about you. I was really looking forward to train with you."

"Go away."

He stopped and watched her go. "Unless you're afraid."

That made her stop. A few men ceased their conversation to stare. The expressions on their faces denounced pity for the newbie. Turning around, she examined him. She had taken down men bigger than him. They were strong, but she had skills, speed and intelligence to defeat them. She used to say her secret weapon was their own macho smugness; at first, they held back because she was a woman, and when she looked tough enough to endure the fight, they got angry and made mistakes out of impatience. She only had fair fights with her friends, because they respected her as warrior, an equal. But this… kid, he challenged her in front of everyone.

She walked to him, in slow, menacing steps, her chin up and her eyes narrowing. "I hope you haven't bet all your money, wager boy."

A large amount of people gathered around to watch the fight. The ones who didn't were the people already accustomed to see Sif's challengers eating dust time after time, so they were more worried about their own challenges.

It was a balanced battle. The boy was fast and oozed enthusiasm, but Sif was a veteran, she knew how to use her skills and his mistakes to gain advantage. She finally broke his spear and cornered him, knocking him down with a precise kick to his stomach. He fell on the ground and she sat on his chest, sinking her short sword on the floor beside his head, making him flinch.

Olaf looked up at her wide-eyed, trying to catch his breath, a harder task with her weight on top of him. She smirked as thunderous clapping started around them and she got up, pulling her sword and walking away while he was a helped up by a group of sympathetic men.

Later, Sif was sitting in a dark corner of the tavern, drinking quietly alone. Usually, she was at the loudest table, with her friends, singing and joking around. But not today. Not for a long time, she thought.

"You're a remarkable woman, Lady Sif!" She froze hearing the familiar sentence yelled by a familiar voice.

Looking up, she spotted the obnoxious young man she had defeated earlier coming towards her. "What did you say?"

He held his hand up in defense. "Hey, calm down. It's just a compliment." Flopping onto a chair across her, he put a bottle of wine on the table.

Her surprised look turned into an annoyed one. "Who said you could sit?"

Olaf raised an eyebrow at her. "Really, Sif? Can I call you Sif?"

"No."

"Lady Sif, then. I hope there are no hard feelings between us." He winked at her and filled up his mug, gesturing the bottle to her inquisitively. After a moment of hesitation, she sighed impatiently and held her mug out to him. Smiling, he proceeded to fill it up. "You can really fight, it was a fair fight, and you deserved to win."

"Is it so hard to accept that you have to keep saying it aloud to assure yourself?" She remarked acidly before sipping her wine.

Olaf chuckled nervously. "I guess I should to stop now."

She nodded in a mocking enthusiastic manner. "You should."

He drank more of his wine and drummed his fingers on the table, looking around randomly. "You know…"

"Look, kid, thank you for the wine, but stop. Just stop right now. You think you're the first to try to beat me, lose, and then try to court me? This is getting really irritating. I'm not here for you to prove anything to you or to your stupid friends. Or getting beaten up makes you more attracted to me? Is that it? Well, keep you shitty perversions to yourselves. Understand?"

Sif got up hastily, knocking her chair down, and pulled a few coins from her pocket and threw it on the table, storming off the tavern.

Sif woke up shivering. She looked at the other side of her room, realizing the window was open and a cold wind was furiously blowing the curtains. She sat up, intending to close the curtains, but had to cover her mouth to muffle a surprise scream when she saw Loki sitting on the foot of the bed, smiling at her. For a moment, she just looked at him speechless from shock.

"Is this… is this a dream?"

Loki's smile widened and he crawled on the bed to her. Leaning in and brushed his icy lips on hers, kissing her softly. When she pulled away to examine his face, still not believing she was seeing him there, he pushed her gently to lay down, settling beside her, face to face.

It was so vivid. She thought she would have forgotten most of his features by now, it had been too long, but no. His green orbs, twinkling with mischief, the smile playing in his lips… It was all there. It was all him.

He caressed her face and pushed a lock of her hair from her forehead.

"Will you still be here when I wake up?" She whispered, yawning.

"Yes." He whispered as he pulled her to his chest, holding her tight as she started to drift off.

How do you like the intro? Tell me your thoughts, guys, I love to hear it.

See you next chapter ;)