The Lady Sif (
bornagoddess) wrote2014-05-10 03:12 am
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I've got my gym shorts and my flippy floppies
It was a beautiful day. A beautiful, outdoors-worthy kind of day. And it was completely due to the fact that Sif was once again a woman. She hadn't gone to find one of her new female friends for clothes yet, or gone back home to get her own gear, and so Sif was sporting the same diminutive training garb Natasha had lent her weeks ago. However, this time she had paired the clothes with some peculiar shoewear, platforms that held onto the feet by a simple strap between your big toe and the rest - the lady at the shop had called them 'flip flops'. Egged on by her so casual attire, Sif had gone outside instead of heading for the training room, to walk the grounds and catch some sunlight.
With this wonderful day it was even fitting that her clothes exposed some of her midriff and calves. Her hair was flowing uncharacteristically lose behind her back and Sif more glided than walked through the grass. Really it was all relief. While she had enjoyed herself as a man Sif had began to wonder if she would never go back to who she really was, who she felt like. Even despite the embarrassment of having had her pants drop in front of strangers, and her top cover very little of her breasts, Sif had not felt so good in weeks. And, apparently, it was a feeling meant to last.
With this wonderful day it was even fitting that her clothes exposed some of her midriff and calves. Her hair was flowing uncharacteristically lose behind her back and Sif more glided than walked through the grass. Really it was all relief. While she had enjoyed herself as a man Sif had began to wonder if she would never go back to who she really was, who she felt like. Even despite the embarrassment of having had her pants drop in front of strangers, and her top cover very little of her breasts, Sif had not felt so good in weeks. And, apparently, it was a feeling meant to last.
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Seeing Loki laugh at long gone times forced a smile into Sif's face, albeit a tight one. "What if he hadn't, then? What if I had succumbed to his advances like many do?" She asked, amused by the scenario. It wasn't that Fandral was not a pleasant sort to look at, it was that him and his admirers did a great job to never, ever let you forget it. And while Sif appreciated straightforwardness she did not like things to be shoved down her throat at every chance. Nevermind the fact that she viewed the Three as her equals and had worked very hard to have them view her as such, and so she had never entertained any such thoughts about any of them. They were her comrades, brothers in arms. When you spent so much time with someone as they did with each other certain charms tended to get lost forever. "I know. I left his nose bleeding and he would not speak to me for a week on account of the shame and for ruining his doublet. I told him if he had stopped when I first stated he should none of that would have happened."
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"What do you mean, what if he hadn't?" Loki asked. "Some battles are lost before they are ever fought, and it is a fool's journey to start them. In no way would you have fallen for his advances, and I had an inkling of that then, and knowledge of that now. So I don't see the point in entertaining some impossible fantasy situation where you suddenly transform from Lady Sif into someone else entirely." He tipped his head to the side, expression teasing. "If he didn't know how to get blood out of his more expensive clothes before then, he certainly does now. I don't think he had the courage to give it to a washerwoman."
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Not as if there was anything else she expected him to do with it. Sif couldn't even think of anything else. "Oh I'm sure he did and added a completely fabricated sob story about how he saved a child from being eaten by a bilgesnipe, or some such." Sif shrugged. "In any case, we have been friends ever since. I think I left it quite clear what our relationship could and could not be."
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About the laundry, he laughed. "That is true. I confess to having done something like that myself, once or twice, where my own blood in my clothing was concerned. I'm under the impression there was a royal edict going out not to break a prince's nose, though," he added. "I was pummelled practically everywhere else when it came to sparring. It's just as well." As Sif was utterly aware, of course. She landed a good number of those blows in training.
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"Right. Of course that's what it was." She replied, attempting not to sound too bitter. Sif was not sure that she was a woman of more elegant tastes or simply more pragmatic than most, and thus not susceptible to the elaborate (yet transparent) way Fandral did things. Not to mention the fact that she had never been the least bit attracted to the man, of course. And while Loki was right in his assumptions as to how to reach her heart, Sif could not come up with firm ways in which to achieve it. "I don't think there are any clear keys to my heart." Sif blurted out, more as a musing than a clear reply to what Loki had said. Now she wondered, and in wondering she was again confronted by how different the men whom she had given her heart - or part of it - to were. With ease she could list honour among the things she treasured, but then Loki wasn't that known for being honourable and yet... This was an exercise in frustration, Sif concluded with an eyeroll and a deep sigh.
The subject had turned a bit lighter again, and Sif found her smile creeping back into her features. It was eerie how conversations about bloodying someone's clothes got her in good spirits, but that was something better left unexamined. "Unlike certain other soldiers I never felt the obligation to go easy on either of Odin's sons. You would learn nothing if I had." She replied with a smirk.