[ Perhaps it's nonsensical for Loki to be taken aback by the depth of Sif's hostility, especially after goading her. And yet, it's still difficult for him to brush off the surprise. Loki finds vanity to be a weak, womanly trait — the Æsir wear their beauty with pride, but in so many other ways, Sif has shown herself to be above the petty grievances of the common sort about her.
It invokes disappointment in him, but even that disappointment is tempered. Loki has always liked Sif in his own way, and perhaps that regard for her is what made her the singular target of Thor's dearest companions. So he stills his silver tongue in the face of her flashing eyes, and keeps to the shadows.
It's only after one long, careful moment of the silence weaving itself into the air between them, that Loki deigns to speak. ] Those who seek to unravel the powers of seiðr across the Nine Realms have never quite unraveled the mysterious properties imbued in the hair of immortals, did you know? [ His tone is light, conversational, but he doesn't move to close the distance between them. He is brother to Thor, whose temper is legendary. Sif is a slavish follower of Thor. He knows better than the strike at the tinder of her rage. ] —strange, then, that one like me, a humble servant of the craft, should have answered so many questions that even the great minds of the past could not touch upon.
[ And then, before she can draw breath to reply, he steps from the shadows: a lateral step, placing him between the columns, maintaining the distance between them. ] If you would deign to accept my help, perhaps I could regrow yours.
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It invokes disappointment in him, but even that disappointment is tempered. Loki has always liked Sif in his own way, and perhaps that regard for her is what made her the singular target of Thor's dearest companions. So he stills his silver tongue in the face of her flashing eyes, and keeps to the shadows.
It's only after one long, careful moment of the silence weaving itself into the air between them, that Loki deigns to speak. ] Those who seek to unravel the powers of seiðr across the Nine Realms have never quite unraveled the mysterious properties imbued in the hair of immortals, did you know? [ His tone is light, conversational, but he doesn't move to close the distance between them. He is brother to Thor, whose temper is legendary. Sif is a slavish follower of Thor. He knows better than the strike at the tinder of her rage. ] —strange, then, that one like me, a humble servant of the craft, should have answered so many questions that even the great minds of the past could not touch upon.
[ And then, before she can draw breath to reply, he steps from the shadows: a lateral step, placing him between the columns, maintaining the distance between them. ] If you would deign to accept my help, perhaps I could regrow yours.