Of Golden Thread and Ivory Claws

• Four: Of Sneaks and Godly Patrons •

"Perhaps, are you..." He paused for a moment, seeming to become slightly more intrigued. "What is your name, girl?"

"How is that any of your concern?" She gave him a suspicious look, her stare only moments from turning into a glare.

A small, twisted smile played at his lips, "Anything that I decide is my concern is my concern. Trust me, I care not for mortals. But if I decide that I want to know something, I shall end up knowing it." He lifted his hands and straightened, laying his palms lightly into his lap, "It is that simple. I am sure you know of my reputation. Do they not cover it in those stories your people tell you as children?" He stared at her meaningfully, the smile gone and his eyes piercing.

Of course, she had heard the tales of Loki. Of his tricks and wicked ways. Of the plots he could twist and the people he could make suffer.

It was a slim chance, but her lips moved anyways. Her superstitious mind not willing press her luck, "My name is Sif."

Loki's lips frowned, obviously not receiving the answer he wanted. She hadn't given her father's name, as was custom within Midgard, and she wouldn't - not to imposters who used her people's gods as aliases. And, just as he went to speak, to demand her to give what she would not, Thor spoke softly instead.

"Sif..."

Still lightly warmed with alcohol, she felt herself warm further for whatever reason. It was not even her full name, but the way his voice said it. It made her feel.... conscious.

For the first time that night, she felt herself visibly squirm under his stare, but quickly tried to cover it up. "Yes, tis I." She grasped for a way to shift the subject off and away from her, "How's the drink?" She asked, even though she had heard 'Thor' complement its taste prior to her interruption.

Thor blinked, his gaze still rooted to her standing just before him. It took him a moment to answer and Loki looked away, his jaw shifting with annoyance as Thor spoke.

"Ah," his body turned slightly, moving to grasp his tankard. It seemed he had only just remembered that she was a bar maiden. "I've finished mine. It tis fine mead, Lass."

Now that she looked, his hand seemed almost too large for the handle. He gently handed it to her and she nodded at his augmented praise. Her eyes shifted back to Loki, of whom had lifted his cup at the handle with just two fingers, and said, "It was satisfactory, at best."

His voice was tinged with bitterness and growing disinterest, like the conversation had not went down the path he had wanted, but he didn't really care enough to pursue it further.

"Shall I bring you more?" Sifrina asked, holding both of their empty mugs.

"N-" Loki began, but Thor cut him off, "Certainly."

Loki glared at him with slight disdain, but Thor paid him no mind, "What do you suggest, Lass?"

His eyes met hers, and he seemed to become closer without actually moving. Something striking within those eyes of his, something that then jolted a deeper part within her. Her arms became wrought with goose flesh, her hair standing on end - like she was lit with some sort of charge. It was as if she was being pulled to him in that moment, her body pulsing with a heat or an energy - something akin to lightning. But she held herself still.

Her mind shook, as it finally considered the possibility that this man.. could he actually be..?

Mentally, she shook her head. No, just no. Outwardly, she gave him her best service smile, "I will have to recommend the wine just imported by the owner. I will warn ya though, it tis a bit stronger." She raised her brow sardonically, "As if a bunch of drunkards like you even need anymore drink."