Scorpio

THIRTY TWO - Sif Awakens

"Ovor enerhein mein."

A yawn. Scuffling.

"Whatcha doing t' her?"

A puff of warm air in her ear, a shift.

"Go back to sleep, halfworlder."

Snort.

"Fine, don't tell."

Flop. Snoring.

There was a hand on Sif's shoulder. She wanted to stir under its touch, to alleviate the strain of the familiar rumbling voice, but her limbs refused to respond – couldn't respond.

"Ovor enerhein mein."

There was a glow pulsing within her, soft warmth spreading from the calloused pads of Thor's hands and shining like the flicker of a candle attempting to persevere in a snowstorm. She could feel the tentative tickle of Thor's energy trying to enter her own reserves, and despite her knowledge that the king's spell had about as much impact on her as an ant's attempt to move a mountain, Sif could not find the energy to reprimand him.

She did not know how long they stayed like that, but it seemed like far too long – warrior and king, this massive oaf she developed a brotherhood with centuries ago, attempting the one thing he lacked in prowess in order to keep her breathing.

Far too painfully long.

"Allow me."

A new voice broke into her consciousness, and if she could, she would have startled. Cool hands closed over the warm one on Sif's shoulder, removing it.

"Sleep, brother. And forget I was ever here."

A thump. Sif suspected Thor had slumped over immediately, too exhausted to acknowledge that for some reason, Loki was on board. She wanted to recoil from the frost giant's touch as he settled onto the floor next to her, supporting her neck with one hand and taking her wrist with the other, but she had barely enough energy to breathe.

"Ovor enerhein mein," he whispered, his touch surprisingly gentle on her skin. It was as if a cool balm had been spread over her muscles, and she immediately felt herself relax, the constriction in her throat fading away.

"Ovor enerhein mein," he repeated. The foggy burn of her mind from old magic gave in to blissful peace, righted and focuses like a lens in the sun, but cool and soft as the ferns in Asgard's gardens.

She was fast asleep by the time Loki left her side.

"I do not see Wakandans among you, but you are in the capital of Wakanda. Who are you?"

Incredulous laugh.

"We're the Guardians of the Galaxy, man! Who're you?"

"That is classified information for the throne of Wakanda."

Shift. "I've taken on a kingdom before – Ow!"

"Not somethin' to brag about, Quill."

"We are here to ask for aid in healing our companions. Can you do that?"

Sif stirred slightly, trying to make a sound, but no sound came from her. She managed a feeble twitch of her jaw before she fell again into the silent abyss of sleep.

"...get the white man to my lab. You can take her to Maisoabre-"

"Can I go with you?"

"'Course, Stel. Alycs, you get the lady."

A teasing snicker, a huff.

"Do not dare to try anything, boy of stars."