Loki and Ingrid #5

Thor and Sif are in this one. They're sparring and Loki and Sif get into a fight. Chaos ensues. 

A Prince in the Dark…by Sarah B. Priest

“One fourth of the area of the outer field should equal three times the back garden. 1,600 times two, equals—” I put down my work suddenly as I hear approaching footsteps. I look up to see Lady Sif staring down at me.

          “How long do you think you can dodge sparring?”

          “I want to be a teacher or a writer, not a warrior,” I mutter, turning back to my book slowly.

          “You should ask what we want,” Sif teases, “But really, it’s mandatory until you turn eighteen. You know the rules. Now, are you coming or not?”

          “Fine. But just for a little while,” I mutter picking up my bookbag and trudging across the great field.

---

“Hey, Ingrid! Over here! Be my partner!”

          “Calder…” I groan at my middle brother, but I don’t see anyone else to pair with.

          “Hey! Over here!” I can see Sif now, Loki trailing behind.

          “Ingrid! Is that your boyfriend?”

          “He’s not my boyfriend! He’s the prince of Asgard, and you should treat him as such!”

          “Prince of Asgard, my sister’s boyfriend, it doesn’t make any difference. It doesn’t matter anyway since he’s not first in line—”

          “I am in desperate need of a partner, Calder?”

          “Loki,” I groan looking behind me, “Don’t; you’ll cheat! I know you will because it’s the only way you can beat him up!”

          “Think about what you’re saying, Ingrid.”

          “Calder, we don’t talk about his status. He is a prince. No different from Thor.” At least I don’t think so.

          “Come on, Loki,” says Sif.

          “No. I’m not fighting her.” He looks at me desperately.

          “No magic. Come on, Calder,” I snap, “We’ll do doubles.”

          “Doubles, Ingrid, really?”

          “Yes. Calder and I versus you and Sif. To even it out.”

          Sif looks annoyed, but she accepts the idea anyway.

          “No weapons this time. We’ll work on hand combat then,” says Sif. Loki winces as he gets into position.

          “This is just a practice round,” Loki puts his hand out.

          “No sorcery!” screams Sif, dodging the blast. “All right, Calder!” She lunges at him, but he backs away with ease.

          “Loki?”

          “What are you doing outside, Ingrid?”

          “What are you doing?”

          “Sif dragged me out here.”

          “I was outside studying—nice weather, when Sif—ow!”

          “Sorry,” he loosens his grip as I get a threshold. Balance is a funny thing.

          Sif and Calder are still out it, throwing punches and kicks at each other rapidly.

          I begin throw off his balance, and Loki yields. “You’re letting me win,” I say, annoyed.

          “I like you,” says Loki promptly, “And besides, you’re a better fighter anyway.”

          “Done!” Sif is back now. “I knocked him out cold, too! If one of you can go slap him in the face since you don’t really seem busy,” she scowls, “then we’ll do a quick round of swordplay.”

          Loki smirks, then turns to look at Sif. “Can we bring Thor in for this one?”

          “No,” sighs Sif, “Thor is doing better things than getting stabbed by his brother. No wonder you won’t be king.”

          “Where’s this sword again? Sif?”

          “Right here!” She has it out and pointed at him quicker than I can blink. “And if you even think about stabbing the crown prince of Asgard—”

          It all goes by in a blur as he lunges at her, she dodges, swiftly keeping the sword away from him, in a rapid dance. Loki reaches for the sword as Sif lunges…I can vaguely feel a sense of shock before everything goes black.

---

“Oh my gosh, Thor, is she okay? Are you crazy?” I can hear Sif screaming as my head begins to pulse loudly.

          I sit up slowly, my head throbbing. “What in the name of Odin happened?” I can feel my own voice piercing though the intense ringing that I hear in my ears.

          Thor doesn’t answer. I can hear him pacing the room. Then he speaks. More accurately, yells back at Sif, raging.” My vision is still blurry, but I know that I’m in the healing ward, and that something horrible has happened. “Sif! You’re the crazy one!” I can hear Thor’s voice rising.

          “She has a headache!” shrieks Sif, loudly. Far too loudly.

          “YOU STABBED MY BROTHER!”

          “Accidents happen, Thor. He was planning to stab you anyways, and besides, you were the one who purposely hit your brother’s girlfriend over the head with that giant hammer of yours!”

          “I DID IT SO YOU WOULDN’T GO AND MURDER HER?”

          “You did what?” I ask frantically.

          No answer.

          Finally, I get the courage to ask the question on my mind. “Where’s Loki?”

---

“I’m an idiot!” groans Sif, hitting her head against the wall, “I’m such an idiot! What if I killed him?” This is the fourth time I’ve seen her crying hysterically all day.

          “You didn’t kill anyone, Sif, but your self-esteem,” Thor sighs. “We’ve waited long enough. Let’s get me back to your room.”

          “I’m not going anywhere! I killed him!”       

          “No, you didn’t. But they’ll get done quicker if you be quiet, Sif.”

          “You’re telling me to be quiet? You’re Thor!”

          “Unfortunately,” he sighs, “Thor has to comply with procedures.”

          “I’m going in there!”

          “No, SIF!” roars Thor, grabbing her cloak, “I don’t think you should be the first person he sees when he wakes up.”

          “You should get some ice on that, dear.”

          “Queen Frigga?” I turn around quickly, realizing how noticeable the Mjolnir-sized lump on my head is. “Have you—”

          “Yes. Heimdall saw everything. I’d advise against doing that again, Thor. Hitting people over the head isn’t a good solution.”

          “I wanted to get her out of battle—”

          “I’ll have to talk about this with your father,” she sighs, “He might have to revoke your hammer privileges. Thor pales as he slinks against the wall upon hearing that.

          I look up quickly, at Thor’s face, then at Frigga’s. Then I realize the problem. “Where’s Sif?”

---

“Loki, I’m so sorry! Maybe you’re right about not fighting me!”

          “I think, perhaps, you should consider I was the one to initiate the Thor-hatred.”

          Thor frowns, quickly looking away at the wall.

          Loki tries to sit up, clutching his side in pain and falling back on the bed.

          “Don’t sit,” says Frigga, rushing to the bedside.

          “What happened to your head, Ingrid?”

          “It’s a long story, really.” I can tell that Sif is still angry over the whole ordeal, but it’s best not to say anything.

          “I won’t fight you again, Loki.” Says Sif, turning to leave, “Come on, Thor.”

          “I’m family! I don’t see why I shan’t stay!”

          “Be quiet, all of you,” whispers Frigga, “he needs his rest.”

          Sif quietly grabs her things, a scowl still on her face as she silently storms out of the room. Thor sits against the wall examining the ancient text encrypted on his hammer. “Truly the gods’ weapon. Made from the heart of a dying star,” he says, suddenly. I close my eyes, finding that strangely poetic as I drift back into an uneasy sleep.

---

“Ingrid?”

          “Loki?” I whisper in the darkness.

          “Up here. Did I scare you?”

          “No.” I mutter, but I don’t know what’s going on in the dark.

          “You fell asleep on the floor,” whispers Loki, “Just like you.”

          “What? I didn’t—”

          “Come up here and talk to me.”

          I nod, getting up stiffly. I look out into the darkness as I see Frigga sitting in the corner, quietly pouring over an ancient spell-book. I know that she’d never let anything happen to me or Loki. Annoyed, I realize I’m still wearing sparring clothes. Oh, well. I’m honestly too tired to care.

          He’s leaning against the headboard of the bed, books cast away at his sides, wrapped in blankets. “You can take one of my blankets. But only the one. I get cold, you know.”

          “Thank you,” I whisper, “How is it?”

          “It still hurts, Ingrid.”

          “I’m sorry.”

          “It was my fault, really. I shouldn’t have grabbed for the sword.”

          “Don’t put this on yourself, Loki,” I say quietly.

          “What else should I do? A king should take responsibility for his actions.”

          “But you aren’t a king,” I can hear myself saying, “Not yet.” There’s a long silence.

          “I used to dream that I would be king,” he whispers, “It was wonderful at first, but then…”

          “Then what, Loki?”

          “Something would always happen. To Father. Or Mother. Or Thor. And I couldn’t stop it. I’m scared, Ingrid. I don’t know what I’m capable of.”

          “It’s okay,” I say, quietly running my hands through his jet-black hair, feeling his weight leaning against me. “It’s going to be okay. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

          “Are you sure?” he whispers, jerking away, “I’m not a little kid in Thor’s bedroom anymore.”

          “Yes. I’m positive. Go to sleep.”

          I can almost hear Loki’s thoughts of childhood and Thor, wishing he could go back, but I’m too groggy to seize them as I fall asleep against Loki’s headboard, still wearing battle clothes from just hours earlier. But it may has well have been an eternity.