The Heat of the Snow // A Loki Fanfiction

Chapter 20

It takes Sif three hours to find you. After scouring the palace, she'd still come up empty-handed. The wing where she knew your chambers were located resulted in nothing. The library too. In fact, every place she could think that a mortal girl might escape led to a dead end.

But you had to be somewhere. So, she'd continued.

And it'd only been once she left the palace and stepped out into the gardens that she'd had an idea of where you could be.

The gardens themselves are stunning as you'd expect—low walls and pathways draped in wild, rambling flowers of every colour of the Bifrost. They would take Sif's breath away no matter how often she found herself here. However, the gardens are often busy—full of Asgardians wishing to admire the colours for themselves. Especially on a day like today, with the palace full of visitors.

With the banquet now over and night descending, Thor's guests are found roaming the garden, strolling down mottled pathways and stopping here and there to inhale the floral evening scents. Sif weaves past them all, only pausing once to check her bearings. Yes, this is the right way.

The pathway leads around the side of the palace, the gardens tapering off into large stretches of dark flowing grasses that undulate into the starry horizon. They come up to her waist, just like Thor had told her they did.

She'd expected the first time she'd see them would be with him...maybe for a reason she'd dare not hope. And despite hoping it anyway, what was the point? He only sees me as his sparring partner...I don't know why I keep doing this to myself...

But seeing Loki...the way he was with you. Maybe there is hope for miracles yet.

Shaking her head, Sif continues on, pushing through the rippling grasses and deeper into darkness. And not long after, there up ahead, she spots you—sat alone on a jagged rock, staring up at all the sparkling branches of Yggdrasil.

"Y/N...?" Sif calls out, trying not to startle you. But you whip around regardless, falling from your spot. She comes up to your side. "I'm sorry..."

"For what?" you ask stiffly as you dust yourself off.

And suddenly, Sif isn't sure what she's apologising for. "Everything," she answers truthfully. "I can't imagine how strange this all must be for a mortal."

You don't even bother to look at her, choosing instead to fold your arms and perch back on the rock. "To be kidnapped by a Norse God and forced to live as a prisoner in his castle? Yeah, pretty strange."

The night air has a slight chill now, and you shiver from that and the unwelcome conversation. The last thing you want to do is sit here talking about your feelings—especially with someone that Loki probably sent.

"Are you a prisoner?" Sif asks gently, sitting down beside you.

"I might as well be."

Though unfamiliar with the way human bodies work, she notices the goosebumps spreading across your bare arms. The dress you'd selected to wear was probably not a good idea this far from the palace walls—it could get pretty unpleasant beyond Frigga's artificial heat. Though sometimes it was worth it to see sights such as these.

"You're cold," she says to you. "You should return to the palace walls for warmth. Even we dress in leathers and armour for the intemperate climate."

"I'm used to the cold," you say stubbornly, refusing to look at her. "It's the only thing here in this world that is familiar to me."

"Okay..."

Sif takes a deep breath, suddenly feeling unqualified herself. What did she think she'd be able to do? What did she think she'd say to convince this girl to see reason? I'm as clueless about mortals as Loki likely is.