Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Light returned to her senses, vision sliding back into proper use as she drew back into wakefulness. Pain was distant, under control, her body working out whether it was something that could regrow in part or in whole.

Laying there in the shadow of the great god Fallagor, Sif could make out a green blur opening and closing, a siloette visible as her eyesight focused. Loki? You're never unwelcome, though I'd have been happier to see you during the battle.

And then the siloette brought to mind a memory, something Loki had told her. For this was not Loki. This was far worse.

Raising her hands, Sif curled her fingers and raised her thumbs - not forwards into the poke-in-your-eyes position - no, into the elevated fighting pose. That of ibex. That of goats. That of Loki.

This antlered woman chuckled. "Nice to know someone talked about me. Its never as much fun to introduce myself - less suspence, I find. Still, I'm not here to fight you, I'm here to save you; it was suggested I tell you 'come with me if you want to live.'"

'She is Hela, firstborn daughter of Odin Allfather,' Loki had told her in that warning.

"I am happy to die," Sif stated.

"And thats why I knew the line would be useless. Still, you are coming with me."

"I am needed here. I shall not shi-"

"Shirk your duties?" Hela finished. "You are here so Thor can laugh at what you manage to do. No matter how hard you fight, he will chuckle and slap you on the back, and win without you. Has this not been the way of things?"

"Not always," Sif said. But certainly enough times that she is not lying. "My duty is my duty, no matter how amusing it may be to others."

"And that conviction in your duty, it pleases me more than you know, Sif You would have been a welcome warrior in my army. A shame that the best ones are always taken, or dead." When the Dark Elves broke into Asgard, I used the opportunity to step into the palace. I fought alongside my stepmother Frigga against Kurst...and then the TVA arrived.

Figuring that Sif would be no more inclined to get up right now than Hela herself would be, "I suppose we have time for this," Hela said, and taps a ridge on her cuff. In fast forward, she walked away and a bifrost brought Thor and three of his friends to this world. Thor then thunderclapped down to where Sif lay.

She could hear every word she told him, even though not a word passed her lips this time, not even her wish to enter Valhalla.

"In order to enter Valhalla, you have to have died in battle," Thor said. "Maybe your arm is in Valhalla."

Soon enough, Thor was gone, and Hela was there once more standing there. "You still want to stay here?" she asked Sif in the shadow of Fallagar. "There are other duties your oath permits."

Chapter Text

I have every confidence she'll agree, Hela thought to herself. Thats why I brought her here to this spare world, this place separate from The Void and the Sacred Timeline. I don't know which Kang made it, and until proven otherwise, it doesn't matter.

Sif said, "My oath is sworn to Asgard."

"And Asgard is...?" Hela asked.

With a sharp glare, "Presently?" making a face on top of that glare. "Ash." Sutur rules it for Surt.

"Does your oath have a Whom?"

"Bor and his heirs," Sif answered.

"Good, good. And who were the most recent of those heirs to rule?"

"...Ve, Odin, ...Loki."

"Your Loki was king?"

"Not mine. And his reign was briefest, for a short odinsleep."

"Fair," Hela said. "And after him?"

"Odin. And after him, Thor refused the throne, and Loki would become lost." Sif sighed. "According to Loki, you are Odin's eldest child."

"I was," she said, waiting patiently.

"What would you have me do?" Sif asked.

"Come to a place where you can grow."

"I don't care to be as big as Heimdall."

"A refugia, an escape from this 'sacred timeline' where you and I are constrained."

"I would have to kill in your name?"

"Disappointingly, no. You will have to cooperate and manage."

"Not dissimilar from what I do lately." My only escape from that was to pursue the god-butcher. Which ended with me here. "Very well, when do I start?"

"Now," Hela said. "Enjoy," as she stood up.

"No introductions, no directions?" Sif asked, herself rising to her feet.

"Its not difficult, and as you are a Branch Manager, your employees can correct you if they're brave, which they should be, given who they are." Hela shrugged, her antlers flowing into her scalp, "And I do try not to antagonize them with my presence: too many memories they associate with this face of mine. Be assured, should I want something, I take it." And then she was gone with a single step backwards through a brief doorway of green light.

"Oh, hey, welcome welcome. I'm Sif...though, yeah, we may need a little extra nomenthingy on my name to tell us apart. You ever been to a beach?"

"I'd wager you have," said Sif the warrior, looking at this other Sif whose skin was as pebbly as her stone ettin cousins, aunts, and uncles. Beach sand Sif, she thought, and said as much.

"I do take after my fairer kin, and I like that name. Beach Sif. Thank ya kindly. Now, now that that be outta the way, follow me and I'll show you around the place. Its a short tour, but its a tour."

++++++++++++++++++++

The employee room was laid out simply enough: two low tables, a fridge and two coffeemakers, a dozen cabinets, NARNIA posters for wallpaper, and a little backless sofa propped against a far wall.

+++++++

The restrooms were good and clean, two stalls in each, a toilet per stall. Plenty of quality soaps, and both tissues and toilet paper and paper towels.

++++++

Back door opened onto a verdantly green space shared with the neighbors. Vines, grasses, a shed.

+++++++++++

There had been little enough more than that, and Beach Sif said with a dramatic wave of her arms, "Aaand now we're back where we started," she said to Sif. "Oh, look who came in while we were out and about."

To Sif's eyes, it looked like some Loki dressed like he had just been asked to prep for a mission to the coldest depths of Jotunheim. This Loki was deep in discussion with some children who had brought papers to Loki's countertop.

"Loki?" Sif asked, and got a nod in reply.

Soon enough, Loki thanked the kids for something, they handed some sheets of paper to him with large-font writing and a lone photo on it, and the kids left.

Seeing the Sifs, Loki came over to stand by them, and without a word, he handed the papers over to Sif so she could look over it. She looked at what the pages said; it was a few copies of a single MISSING notice:

And just as Loki was about to reach for a key that had been left in the wall beside the Sifs, "Touch the thermostat and die, Professor," Beach Sif warned Loki.

"Considering you introduced me to the Whos," Loki said, "how do you keep confusing the umbrella-toting Seven with Four of good taste?" as he lifted and patted his own scarf.

"Because you targ4brains, I wasn't comparing you to a TARDIS-driver, but to Professor Aston."

"Apologies then. That whole team was well-dressed."

"Finally, a sane comment," Beach Sif said.

"Speaking of," Loki said, "you have family visiting?"

"Yuppers. This' our new boss: Sif!"

"Welcome," Loki said in his best John Hammond voice, "to Bor's Family Cafe."

"Thank you," Sif said. "Though, why isn't it 'Odins'?" I mean, I understand why it isn't Odinsons -- because Hela was his daughter, and she owns the chain.

Beach Sif said, "Theres an Amora in Deliveries and one in Accounting."

Loki clarified: "Amora's a distant relative, but she like I, am descended from Bor."

Sif looked at Beach Sif like the lone puzzle piece that refuses to go with the rest of the puzzle.

"Hm?" Beach Sif asked. "Oh! Oh, you want to know wh- Yes, I'm related, but by marriage."

"Oh. I'm sorry, I didn't realize - congratulations, both of you," Sif said.

Beach Sif looked at Loki and winced. "Him?" she asked Sif. "Barf me, no. No, MY Loki - Logi - was nine feet tall, arms like a glacier, and eyes just as piercing. He died when the Dark Elves invaded."

"I'm sorry; my condolences."

"Thank you. Now, I need to get back to work. Enjoy."

Chapter Text

The window between the kitchen and dining room was full of boxes full of coffee and presents and spices.  Mostly full, Beach Sif grinned as she looked through one of the cracks formed by the space between boxes.  Looked through into the dining room as the other Sif was chatting with Loki while they each set tables; the new Sif being faster than Loki, while also fewer-handed; Beach Sif took a measure of pleasure and pride from that:  I'd not wish to test myself with a life one-handed, but I like to think I'd ultimately be as good at it as she is.  We are, after all, Sifs.

"What did you say?" Loki asked his coworker and manager, taking an unspoken break from work to stand tall and stare at that Sif.

Uh-oh.

The Sif of that room, she made light of what she'd said, asking Loki if it hurt his feelings when it wasn't aimed remotely in the vicinity of him.

Back and forth, to and fro; getting closer, making a quip; and Beach Sif smiled.  A little scary sometimes, how much those two remind me of me and my Loki - and then there're times they do something that neither of us would have ever done.  A few times, they startle each other too.

From where she sat, Beach Sif continued with her workplace chores while she kept an eye on the newbies.   Other than the seasonal flavors, I could do this in my sleep.  Not allowed to do it in my sleep anymore, though, not after The Incident;  but really, that Hipster Loki was so over the top even this Loki wasn't sure if it was an ironic reaction.  I still had to at least stand there like I was apologizing, even if no words crossed my lips, she remembered while the newer Sif and Loki  took another step and another dry comment closer to one another.

And then Loki reached out, slow and making sure not to startle.

Sif grabbed him by his wrist and started to twist.

Loki spun around to make the twisting take place on her rather than on him.

Aand cue the foot sticking out to catch his leg between her ankle and calf - yup.  And then he retaliates with a skip that bumps his chest against her face...

Or it would if she hadn't just slammed her forehead into his chest.  Bad day to not be wearing armor.

"That," Loki said, one hand resting on where he'd been impacted, "was unwise.  Most very unwise, Sif."

"You never call me 'Lady Sif' or -"

"I never call you a great many things; would you like that to change?"

She glared at him, as though that both answered and explained everything.

"I see," Loki said.  "Then there is one thing I can do to right all the wrongs."

"Oh?" Sif asked.

Oh? Beach Sif wondered.

In answer, Loki stepped back up to where he had just been, and he reached up to the side of Sif's face, and she looked ready to accept her cheek to rest against his palm, when -

"Boop," Loki said, touching her nose.

Both Sifs were stock-still, one watching Loki with impossibly wide eyes, the other watching both coworkers for any hint of what they were going to do next.  Wha?

This must be what Layla means when she tells me about the antics Marc and Stephen get up to when she and her god least expect it.  And speaking of which, And now that I can't see them, I would do well to make a well-executed retreat.

Chapter Text

"I was never the fighting sort," Loki confessed.

"Loki -"

"I need to say this, Sif. Please."

She nodded.

"Whenever I was in danger, Thor would rescue me. All throughout my childhood and beyond, it never mattered what I was facing, he would end the danger. Frigga said it was because he took seriously the responsibilities of an older brother."

Sif knew, He may not be the Loki I long knew, but I know my Loki well enough to know there is a dangling qualifier.

"But," Loki said.

There it is, Sif thought, keeping a smile off her face.

"Rare was the time when I had not been brought to the danger. I was there so Thor could get better at fighting...at protecting."

Not sure what to say, Sif leaned slightly against him.

After a minute of that, silent but present, "Thank you, Sif."

"For what?"

"Listening."

"I'm happy to listen to you. Always."

Raising an eyebrow, "For all time?" Loki asked.

"Are we picking out matching doilies?"

"Sounds good to me."

"How about," Sif offered, "we each buy one, and save the matching for later?"

"Sounds like another of your excellent plans. I'm in!"

Chapter Text

"If you would, I'd like to hear about your Loki," said this Loki.

"First and foremore," Sif said, "is that he wasn't mine. I don't think he was anyone's, though not always for lack of trying on others' parts." I think even Amora would have tried her hand at catching him, if she could've taken her eyes off my brother.

___

Sif found him soundly sleeping on the sofa, head resting on the mature armor of a monarchy. With a smile, she sat beside him, shoulder against shoulder. And if her head should come to lay against his, that was fine -- ditto if his might rest against hers.

Chapter Text

"Lets get in and get out," Sif said, pulling out a pen to do what little paperwork there was at this pickup point.

With a pat to her shoulder, Loki nodded and walked past her and the reception window, to the table where the boxes of coffee packets and napkins were awaiting him. Loki whistled a little, a variant of a tune his mother had taught him long ago.

"You got the boxes?" Sif asked him as she set the final flourish on the last signature she needed to provide here. And then turned her head, a small faint glow catching her eye.

"Working on it," Loki said, stacking them in a way that would be best for carrying them to the cafe.

"I'm starting to wonder if Amora has an ulterior motive for calling in sick this afternoon."

"She does have everyone's schedule memorized," Loki offered. Though that would mean its deliberate that she only does it when I and this Sif are both on-duty. That couldn't be it...could it?

"Loki?" Sif asked.

"Yes?" he asked, focusing more than all his attention on the boxes he was picking up.

"Lo-ki," she enunciated.

Uh-oh. Slowly, he turned around. "Yes, Sif?" he asked as innocently as any Loki ever could; not commenting on how her absent arm was now exoskeletonal with a crab claw on the end.
With one eyebrow slightly raised, "A little hungry, are we?"

"Just a mite," he offered.

She nodded. "Lets get this done well, so we can go out to eat."

"Even after...?" he asked.

"Most people would've just nagged me for my measurements," Sif shrugged.

Loki turned very blue.

So he does want my measurements? If I had to give them to anyone...def him, as the other Sif here would say. "No need to be embarassed, L- wait, you're blue."

"I am." More and more retreating into the WAS.

"I thought jotuns didn't turn blue when -"

"Ah."

"Ah?"

"Yes, Sif, ah."

"And what, praytell, is this ah?"

"Unlike the majority of Lokis in this refugia, I am not an Asgard-fostered jotun who learned Vanir-based illusion magic. I was born an Asgardian, and I learned jotun-based illusion magic." My birth mother Frigga thought it best that I learn more than just her sorceries.

"Oh," Sif said. "I was not aware of that."

He observed that the claw was still there at the end of the sorcerous arm. She's not done away with it yet? A simple sharp gesture - a stab, a thrust, a wiggle of the wrist - and the claw would evaporate, leaving her be, and not haunting her with the reminder of a limb. She knows this; Sif's seen my illusions more than a few times by now over the course of our working together. "Does it change anything?"

"Never."

"Thats a relief."

Placing her good arm around him, Sif said softly, "And thank you, my Loki, for sharing that with me." Aaaand back to blue he goes, she thought pleasedly, as her own face turned the color associated with tenderness and affection.

Chapter Text

OUTSIDE THE CAFE:

"Its a curious name," said the newest-arrived Sif. "Still, work is work," and her and her Loki walked through the door on which was written

"Like welcome to Bor Fa-" Beach Sif started to say. Oh yays, more of me.

Warrior Sif, who had once battled in defence of Fallagar, "Welcome. You here for business, pleasure, or buttkicking?" knowing herselves as well as she liked to think she did.

"You repeating yourself, sweetie?" Loki asked, voice carrying from the kitchen.

The newly arrived Sif looked at her Loki beside her and mouthed 'sweetie?'

"I call you that," her Loki quietly protested.

"In gist, yes; in so many words, no."

Loki said to the workers here, "Excuse us, we're looking for -"

"The boss for a job," Beach Sif said. "Only other reason a Loki would be here, other than for an opportune job, would be to get blindingly drunk."

"And we don't sell drinks anymore," said Fallagar's defender. "How 'bout you?"

"I would make a good chef," offered the other Loki, whom would there-ever-after be Chef Loki.

New Sif said, "I've never sold drinks."

"You want free beer?" Beach Sif offered.

"Just a job."

"Need to see the Boss."

"Boss isn't you?"

Warrior Sif and her Loki snorted. "I'm closer to being in charge," said the Warrior.

"She only yells a little," Beach Sif said. "Nah, none of us do, really. Pointing a thumb back to where Loki was hard at work, "Boss is his sister."

Chef Loki went very very still. "Meili?" he guessed. "Thora?"

"Hela," said Sif. How did you get here if not by way of Hela's actions? Then shrugged. Tis a riddle for another day. "Consider yourselves hired. Welcome to the family."