1963-09-25 - A Quiet Arrangement
Summary: Fandral and Sif's private argument is interrupted by Loki. Plans are revealed and traveling to Midgard imminent. Fandral and Sif make a secret agreement regarding their future.
Related: If there are no related logs, put 'None', — please don't leave blank!
Theme Song: None
fandral sif louis 



The night of the revelry and the party is still in full swing in various parts of the palace. The Great Hall is still staggeringly busy with people drinking and eating. People roam the public areas, enjoying the time and laughing despite the fact that a war is so terribly close in the offing. Yet, then again, is it not true that Asgard is almost always dancing with fate and tempting threats eternal?

It's late in the hour, and for a period of time the royal family had made itself scarce. For those paying attention they would have noticed that all of them had made their excuses, departing under one pretense or another. But then, an hour later, they rejoined the festivities.

Loki, for his part, made only a token showing as he offered a few smiles here and there. He was quick with a greeting, open with a smile, and always seemed to remember the names of all those who approached him… even going so far as to recall some token anecdote or familial connection and asking after them.

But now, Loki finds himself walking down one of the perfectly carved stone hallways in the side of the mountain, still near to the festivities but most amongst the quarters of those who have a place at court. It's outside a particular door that the trickster god pauses to rap knuckles upon the partially open wooden door. Should it be answered his voice will lift, "Lady Sif. You do not partake of the festivities."


Hours long after the Court had ended, Lady Sif had taken to her quarters. Surely, food was brought to her door, promptly refused yet reluctantly taken, eaten, and remnants discarded soon after. Loki wasn't the first knock that came to her door. Spies of the court could have seen the the lovely Fandral knocking not once, but twice, a harsh word spoken and an unlawful entry with it slammed shut.

There were moments of quiet there after. Which was soon regaled with shouts and angry words to one another, and quite possibly a sweeping of a hand of a goblet crashing to the ground along with a silver platter. Either way, party goers favored the party save for the gossip of what centered around the quarters of Lady Sif.

"Nothing you can say at this very moment will convince me otherwise, Fandral! The mind is made and it was done so with clarity!"

The knock upon the door has her eyes cutting forthwith, her lips punching into what would turn into a scowl soon after until the voice upon the other end was heard. "Not another word." Yes. Don't tell Loki. Even though there was an inkling that he may already know. She approaches the door, her gripping the handle, her fingers oddly enough adjusting her hair as she tugs it open. "My apologies, Prince Loki. Privacy and peace is what I required for the night. But I am pleased to see you. Come in."


Fandral has been arguing with Sif, so his normal light flirtaous smile is replaced with a scowl that doesn't sit well on the normally light hearted man. His dress shirt is slightly in a disarray from him tugging at the clasps at his neck and finally he had dislodged a few so he could breath easier. His cheek has a woman's hand print on it, perhaps from Lady Sif. He has his arms folded, fighting to reign in his temper when she escapes their argument to open the door.

At the sight of Prince Loki, Fandral straightens and bows, doing his best to keep his tone even tempered as he speaks, "Prince Loki. Thank you for dropping by." He gives a look to Sif that partially warns her that he's going to open his big mouth, "Perhaps you can talk her out of this foolish endeavour." No, he doesn't tell Loki what foolishness that Sif has gotten herself into but he certainly has planted a seed, "You've always been better than I at getting someone to see the right side." Or Loki's side. One of the gifts of being a trickster.


The only hint one might have of Loki perceiving what might be the case underlying the current situation would be the momentary shift of his eyes between them. A glance to each, then returning to each in turn. Greetings offered, his answer to them is to lower his eyes slightly in acknowledgement, offering a hint of a smile to partner with it.

"Then please, do forgive my intrusion." The first to Sif. But then his attention is drawn to Fandral and he listens with that open and contemplative air he has affected so often in their company. He nods in answer to the warrior of the three, yet still hovers near the entrance as if not entirely committed to staying. "If she wishes to be talked out of some matter or another, Fandral, assuredly she will place it before me of her own accord."

Yet, despite his polite words, he does turn those green eyes back upon the warrior woman, quirking an eyebrow as if to ask her a silent question.


This.. could look bad. Fandral's current state of dress could have been the talk around town. Yet if one hadn't seen the smack upon his face, the handprint delivered from such a crass form of an insult to her ears, tongues would have wagged at the sight. Though his look causes her to subtly shake her head, her eyes widening with a threat that was ignored there after.

"Thank you. Fandral." She says through clenched teeth, releasing the handle of the door so that Loki would enter of his own free will. The invitation was extended from that act alone, though for womanly sake, she begins to pick up the overturned goblet and tray, and assort things that didn't need to be assorted just to keep her hands busy.

"You were not intruding, Loki." Formalities were dropped then, as hands rest and press against the dressing bureau, her eyes aside to Loki with the unasked question that has her own shoulders slumping. "I'm leaving the cadre. It was my assumption that we were to march upon Jotunheim, in which I would take my leave there after. But if I am correct, and that is not the case? I leave Asgard in the morrow."


Fandral isn't much concerned at the moment on how his state of dress or mark on his cheek makes him look in other's eyes. But he's going to try to tone down his temper now that Loki is in the room. He takes a step back as she starts to pick things off the floor and then murmurs, "Sif…let me help you." He bend down as if he wants to help her but then takes stops himself when he gauges her mood and takes a step back, sensing she doesn't want his help right now.

He looks back over at Loki, moving so that he's not crowding Sif, "And you don't have to leave immediately." Then he bites his tongue because he knows it's just going to start the argument back up again.


The smile that touches Loki's features is a gentle one as he steps further into the room. It takes up a place at the corner of his mouth and on those angular features might almost like a smirk, but the spirit is not behind it. Instead he gives them a moment to perhaps glare at each other before he moves closer still and lifts his voice, "Would Fandral's words carry further weight, Sif, if they were accompanied by the news I carry?"

The trickster rests a hand upon an end table, too casually picking up a small statuette that might have been in the room before it was granted Sif, or perhaps it was one of her own choice. Whichever, he sets it back down after he gains their attention. Looking between them he adds, "Odin has given his sons their tasks. The giant-kin are our main cause of concern and so we shall address it. Balder shall move against the Jotun, though how he shall do so is up to him."

The smile grows a bit as he adds, "Though it might alter his strategy to know one of his greatest warriors has chosen to break service."


Sif wasn't going to refuse the help, but she was going to accept it and possibly push Fandral upon his ass in a childish display of defiance. Since that was not to be, the glare that she gives Fandral slightly melts away to one of an apology and resignation. "I don't, Fandral? Tell me, why should I not?" She gestures around. "For this?"

Loki's cool tones have her turning ever so slightly, there was confusion there and now curiosity. "You have spoken with the All-Father after court?" She asks, finally straightening. And yet, his silence there after seemed deafening. T'was like she was waiting for an order to be cast down despite her wish and desire to leave. She wouldn't rightly approach the All-Father with her protests and a statement that she was not needed, for she lives for the fight. "What has he decreed?"

The news itself was a delight. There would be movement against the Jotun. It nearly causes her expression to brighten but yet falls almost immediately. "There will be no alteration of his stragey. Balder has my sword." Trapped, she couldn't help but ask. "And what of Thor?"


"Does All-Father want me at Thor's side or your own?" Fandral asks Loki with a questioning look. He tends to serve as Thor's guard as part of the Warrior's Three but there have been times he's worked with Loki. With Sif's statement that she's going to be serving with Balder, it's clear that Fandral is going to need a little space, especially since some words were said to Sif before Loki got there that can't be taken back, so he's not asking to also go on mission with Balder.

At Sif's statement on 'for this', he flushes and turns back to her, "It was enough before. Why isn't it enough now?" He gives her a pointed look and then looks back at Loki, "I'm sorry Your Highness." He looks back at Sif and that question is back on his face. The one that got him slapped before. The look leaves quickly and he shoves his hands behind his back so he doesn't smash something, "What can we do to help?"


The God in Green does, at times, a good job of pretending he does not perceive such matters before him that some might consider embarrassing. He just stands there with that same small smile in place, listening and holding his tongue til the moments when they ask aught of him. First he fields the query about Odin's decree, "Thor, Balder, and myself have been tasked with what efforts we can to head off this conflict before it can conflagrate. We are to Midgard shortly."

There's a beat as Sif asks her question of Thor and he nods in answer, "It would be best, Lady Sif, if you were to perhaps speak of such matters with the Thunderer yourself."

He turns to look upon Fandral and offers a broader smile, "I had presumed you would stand with Thor, Fandral. Though you are well to come with me should you so wish. Odin granted us separate tasks yet…" He tilts his head to the side as if seeking the right word, even as he touches the back of his neck with gloved fingertips. "We have decided that it would be best to combine our efforts and share what assets we have available. So we may, in truth, be operating from the same location at times."

But then he asks of what aid can be rendered, "I would recommend you both speak with Thor. We have discussed several options, yet when I left him he still had not decided on his course of action."


Lady Sif scoffs quietly. Glancing to the room as a whole then gives Fandral an insufferable look. "Do not compell me to answer this.." It was a silent plea. One for him to let it go for now before they discuss their positions, and an offering to speak about this once heads cool. Well, her own head. It was unclear if Fandral was angered first, but it was clear that Sif radiated that anger that was slowly lessening with the promise of a good battle and story to tell.

"Midgard." Sif finally murmurs, her head nodding. "I have already seen to it that a place has been acquired. The warriors are welcome there for respite and to swing their blade with privacy. There will be horses.." Sif seems proud at this fact. She enjoyed the animal and training a proper steed in battle. The offer, while quieted, was extended to Fandral with just a glance and a nod. Despite their argument, they were still friends.

"There will be no need to speak with The Thunderer. I shall direct my inquieries to The Brave One, as I shall ride with him to battle instead." She clears her throat. "When is my brother expecting us? Or shall I be the one to break the walls between the realms to send us to Midgard?" Surely Heimdall has seen that coming. And right now, he's possibly marching his way to her room. Sibling rivalry at its best.


"I would prefer to be assigned where my skills are most needed," Fandral tells Loki with a more relaxed smile as they get away from Sif's departure and start talking about the upcoming mission, "Without knowing what you or Thor are working on, I can't say where I'd be most help." He reaches up and starts to reattach his clasps to get more presentable, "But truth be told, I was meaning to speak to you about establishing an identity on Midgard for personal reasons so it might work best for me to serve you on this mission. Plus, it's been too long since we've spoken over a tankard of mead."

He glances over at Sif as she mentions that she already has a place and nods, giving her a look to let her know that her residency on Midgard is not prompting his decision to move forward with his plans to spend time there, "And it might make sense for some of us to remain once the giant-kin are taken care of in case this is just the first wave."


For some reason, Loki's brow furrows and he looks pensive. He rests his hands upon his hips and nods to both of them, apparently agreeing with their words or their decisions. He gestures to the side slightly, "I have a dwelling that we may choose to gather. If matters proceed in one particular course we may need a… consolidated location to operate from." For some reason he does not elaborate further on that.

But then he looks back to Balder and gives a nod, "Again, I would recommend you speak with him. I think he may find it a good thing to have his friends near him in this time." Yet another tendril of the conversation that is abandoned as he takes a step back.

"That is all I wished to impart, I must away to tend to matters before I depart Asgard again. I shall be off this next day in the eve."


"Agreed." In a sense. If one Odinson calls, knowing Sif, she would toss away all reservations and come running even though her preferences were made clear and known. Besides, Balder the Brave seems as if he'd head straight into battle quicker, and Sif has some untapped rage to get into touch with. The mention of Fandral needing an identity has Sif perplexed, it was then that her own questions towards his motives were made known. "An identity? What is wrong with Fandral of the Warriors Three? Does your name offend you? Is there fear to speak of such a name amongst the Midgardians? Why must this be private."

She reigns it back in, then glances towards Loki with a shake of her head. "I depart tonight. And thank you for the news of the upcoming battle. It lifts the spirits so."


"I am known as Freddie Moyer to those on Midgard that do not know me in my true seeming," Fandral advises Loki just in case they don't have a chance to touch base again before they are all in Midgard, "I haven't finalized the details but I have a driver's license and started to lay the groundwork for being an antiquities dealer that specializes in Norse items." He gives Loki a smile, "I figured it would give me an excuse to 'consult' with you and even create a source of income that would explain my wealth."

He then looks over at Sif with a patient look, "They have more rules now than before. People who track things, at least that was my impression from spending time at a pub in Midgard and talking to the locals. There are those that openly fear the mutants, their own kind, with special gifts so I can't imagine what they'd make of an Asgardian that's thousands of years old."


"Mr. Moyer, I'll be in touch then." Loki's lip twitches a bit then he steps back and gives a nod to each in turn. "Sif, you may wish to consult with Fandral and arrange for yourself such an identity. Or you could just embrace the madness others would proclaim for you." He gives a wry smile and a shrug, "As you like."

With that said he turns then and starts out of the room, back into the hallway. "I look forward to hearing from you both. Until then." He offers a wave over his shoulder even as he walks off.


Whaaaaaaat? Sif stares blankly towards Fandral as he begins to explain his identities. "You would sell us to the Midgardians?" Certainly, that is not what Fandral was getting at. But Sif herself did not know. This was all new territory. She planned to take Midgard by storm and let the details fall by the wayside. She didn't want attention given to her where it wasn't necessary. Or due. With that thought in mind, she strolls away from her dressing bureau to settle upon her bedding with a flop, her shoulders slumped, hand reaching up to idly rub at the back of her neck.

With a glance given towards Loki, she gives the slightest of frowns towards his back as he departs, not bothering to wish farewell, for she would see him soon. Now onto Fandral. It was clear that she was going into this with a great, great deal of ignorance. The Lady Sif was starting to rethink her leaving the cadre. "Don't start."


"No Sif, not sell you, but I would broker some of the items I acquired in my days as a god and it's a hell of a lot easier to sell them if I have an identity," Fandral tells his friend with a sigh and then takes a seat next to her, speaking in a calmer voice, "Midgard has changed so much…their government watches their people and even fears the ones that have more power than their own. They have created towns for those that show powers and tried to oust them from society. It is not pretty Lady Sif."

He glances where Loki left, "Loki has been with them for a while, is even a teacher at one of their schools. He has found ways to fit in. If you wish to live there then you must change as well." This wasn't a talk he was looking forward to having with her, "I plan to stay there for a bit after Thor's wedding to help his princess as well as look into some personal matters. I can help you…as much as it pains me to see you leave, I would not have you floundering in your new life."


"I.. hadn't realized." Sif confesses. Then a lift of her arm is given to hang over her head. The other hand shifts, unattaching the bucklets that keep her armor attached. "I will admit, in privacy, that I made the decision to remain upon Asgard long before.." Thor and Crystal. "To at least ease my own curiosities. To explore and enjoy the company of a man. To shed my godhood and live amongst them but.." The armor was pulled and tossed to the floor. "I did not believe that it would be so.. involved."

Hearing that Loki was a teacher was ironic, one that makes her smile for the sake of wanting to laugh, her head shaking at the mention of change. Though the wedding makes that smile drop three fold, she keeps her eyes planted upon the floor, then with a slow shift of her hips she looks towards him, redirecting everything back upon the speaker. "This wasn't temporary. I.. admittedly wanted him to hurt. Where I wanted to hurt less. But I do not matter in the grand scheme of things. Tell me. What personal matters? Is there anything I can help with?" She pauses, then looks towards his cheek. "And I apologize."


"I've been scouting there, since Thor expressed his interest in the Midgardian princess," Fandral admits and sighs running his fingers through his hair, "And I've seen some good changes, like their people are finally tapping into their own abilities…but bad, the ones that are blessed are shunned and feared." He leans his elbows on his knees and points to the mark on his cheek, "And I deserved this…" He looks away and admits to Sif, "I shouldn't have made the offer in the manner in which it was made."

"I just…I have gotten so used to you looking at Thor above all others, to see you leave, find someone…" Fandral pauses and then lowers his voice, "And not have that person be me." He flushes a little, "I just…I got angry and pushed things in ways I shouldn't have." He looks back at her, "Because to be honest Sif, if you looked at me in half the measure you look at him, I would give up all my trysts and try to be a man worthy of you." He holds up his hand, "I know…I am not that man for you but know that not all of the men in Asgard are blind and dumb to your worth." In some ways that was the point he was trying to make earlier, "You will find him…that I am certain." He points to himself, "And my business on Midgard is…is old business from the time I walked their lands and called myself a god."


"I have seen some." Sif murmurs. "Not only the people, but I hear tell the women are finding their voice. Which .. akin to us, is a blessing. But.. the anger I could feel.." She pats her hand slightly at her chest. "..I quietly wish I could aid their cause." But speaking of deserving, she does reach out a hand to lightly caress the quiet bruise that was growing, her fingers soon dropping into her lap as she takes on the same stance as he, though with the added touch of her black hair hanging like a curtain to shield his face.

It served its purpose well. For the shadow that looms over her face was the one that hit Thor when she revealed her own feelings, her own heart dropping at first, then raising to create a slight lump within her throat. "I.." She started, and yet, his hand held up gave her a reprieve. But she shakes it away with a shake of her head and an inhale of breath, sitting upright now to brush her hair away from her face. "Fandral." She states, her tone most serious, one knee cocked up upon the bed so that she could face him.

"This I know. That being with you would be an honor that is only bestowed upon one most treasured." She smiles faintly, though still knowing where her heart lies, though it falls away with every passing hour of the impending nuptuals. "Perhaps one day, when we've exhausted all that we can, we can seek solace within each other." But the matter of his past at hand, she decides to jump into the opportunity to dig and pry. "Tell me. What was it? Does Fandral the Dashing have offspring needing attended to? I am.. or I have been called the Den Mother to Hrimhari. I will ensure that your sons are worthy." She laughs a little, then leans in, allowing her chin to carefully rest upon his shoulder.


Fandral stiffened when she touched the bruise but then lets himself relax under her touch which is fleeting. He isn't surprised at her reaction to his admission. There are no hard feelings that her heart still lies with the Thunderer, "I've known where your heart lies Sif, which is why I do not attempt to be more than your friend." He places a arm around her as she lays her head on his shoulder, "And certainly, if there ever comes a time where you wish to have me…you need only say the words." His heart though isn't breaking, just a quiet acceptance there, "And no…no children." Fandral gives a deep breath and lets it out, "I've managed to avoid that to my knowledge despite my…proclivities." He gives her shoulder a squeeze, "No…I lost something very important to me on Midgard and recently got wind that it might be in a private collection. I need to establish my identity and reach out to see if it can be purchased by mortal means…" And stolen if it can't be bought.


"Why haven't you said anything before it festered within me?" She asks quietly. It would have saved her a lot of grief and pain. But the offer was met with the promise of future tidings if their plans hadn't come to pass. So she would not dwell upon it longer. But the arm around her waist was the most favored affection, years of not allowing anyone close to complete such a gesture was met with a closing of her eyes and sigh. Everyone needed a hug, half as it was.

"You have skill." Sif murmurs playfully, which extends to a light, very light jab into the side. Though there was a quiet bafflement at his issue. Despite what he had told her of Midgard and their changes, one thing still remained the same.

"Why purchase something that was already yours? Why not take it by force. As we want to do. Then do away with him there after and claim the bounty for the betterment of Asgard."


"Because Thor is the better man and if you had a chance at him then…" Fandral sighs and shakes his head, "Loki and Balder…all of the Odinsons are worthy of a warrior such as yourself." It's clear to some degree he's always placed Sif as someone unattainable, "I am only Fandral the Dashing." He holds up his hand before she can protest, "A skilled warrior in my own right but I am only myself. Not a prince." Sometimes not the best of men is left unspoken, "And I did not want to tie you to me in the early years because I wanted to try it all…see what there was to see. And after Geror betrayed me…I didn't want to put myself out there again."

Fandral lightly ruffles her hair, "And I do not take it by force because I do not want to be hunted the guardians of Midgard. There are more and more cropping up and Asgard needs to set the example rather than be villians who take what they want. It was my own foolishness that lead to me loosing Yngvi. If I must pay a toll to get it back then so be it."


Her hand lifts to bring his down in a fit of childishness. She was not about to protest his words. It would lead to further arguing, things being thrown, and a slim chance of them actually coming to blows. So she lets it be. But one more gem? "Title means nothing." And a light dig of her chin into his shoulder. Someone was being abusive!

Especially once he messes up her hair, her chin tilts downward so that she could latch her teeth into his shoulders, giving a mock bite and a growl, her own hands reaching up to sink into his golden locks to muss as well. Then with a quick lean back to defend herself if necessary, her hands soon smack against her thigh as she gives a nod in understanding. "But know this, Fandral. My blade, as proclaimed to the Odinsons three is yours as well. While not official under the guise of royalty, I care much of you as I would any of our brothers and sisters. So if you need my aid in requiring your treasured Yngvi. Then I am there. Understand?"


Fandral groans when she bites his shoulder and does his best to remind himself that they're just friends. He sits a little straighter, grinning as she messes his hair and keeping to topics that are just safer, "Thank you. My blade is yours as well. As long as it does not take me from my duties to the Odinsons three." He starts to move, because he needs to put a little space between them for now, "And that being said, I need to seek out Thor and see what his wishes are. If he wants me with Loki, I'll be there otherwise, I shall stay by his side." Neither option puts him with Balder, "Enjoy fighting the Jotuns for me. I expect some good stories to come from that." Yes, he must be going before his friend notices his reaction to her bite, "But do me one small favor. If you decide to part before me, just send a note and let me know."


"Good. I fear that we shall need you all soon, if our foray into Jotunheim is unsuccessful." Sif's smile was tight and almost weary, her own movements draw her to a stand as she approaches the bureau once again. The little effigy was picked up and studied, a little glance given back towards Fandral, though a slight tell, a twinkle of laughter within her eyes is seen immediately.

"I shall, Fandral. Give good tidings to the Prince for me."


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