Thor jogged into the private residence section of the great hall of Asgard, looking for his father. He could hardly believe that he might have discovered the method by which Maldunn had been able to see Sif.

Actually… at this point, he very really nearly couldn't believe it. At all. Usually it was Sif or Balder who came up with the brilliant ideas; Thor's nature seemed programmed to be a bit more… feckless. He didn't mean to be so—and he knew he was getting better, learning—but still… he was beginning to doubt his own discovery. It seemed too brilliant, and too obvious for everyone else, especially Lord Odin, to have missed.

But he had to present his idea to Lord Odin anyway, even if he was wrong—because what if his idea was right? He was so focused, he nearly ran over Frigga when he wheeled around a corner to find her coming his way.

"Oh! Mother…" he exclaimed, startled.

"Hello, my son. You are beginning to make meeting me like this a habit, you know. How is dear Sif doing?"

"Sif was doing much better when I—er, when I saw her last." He temporized, not wanting to say to his mother that he'd woken up with Sif. Even though it hadn't been 'like that,' he couldn't quickly think of a way to phrase it that didn't sound… awkward.

His mother smiled serenely and said, "Yes, I know she was fine this morning." At his instant blush, her smile gained a degree of teasing as she added, "Who do you think put a blanket over you both? When you did not come in last night, I came to find you, but you were so tired, I hated to wake you."

He reddened even further, his mouth opening and closing once, with no sound coming out. He tried again. "…Oh."

One elegant eyebrow lifted. "Did you not wonder, my son, why Heimdall did not take offense at your presence in Sif's room all night? He saw me watching over you both, and knew nothing… hmm, untoward had taken place."

She let him squirm in embarrassment for a moment—his mother had seen him and Sif all cuddled up together!—but then she relented. "So, Thor, what brought you here from Sif's side in such haste?"

He hesitated. Having to speak his idea aloud (which sounded more stupid to himself by the moment; of course his father would already have thought of this)… was difficult. But it was his mother, Lady Frigga, known for her understanding. If he couldn't voice his idea to her, how would he ever bring himself to say it to the Allfather? "Mother, I think I've—we've—Heimdall and I—I think we've struck upon why, or at least how, Maldunn was able to perceive Sif. I was coming to ask Lord Odin about it."

"Have you indeed? That very question has kept the Allfather up this past night, worrying over its answer and repercussions. Come, Thor; we will discuss it with him."

So instead of getting the practice run in presenting his idea that he'd hoped for, Thor found himself propelled in front of a surprised Allfather.

"Thor?" He exclaimed. "I would have thought you'd be with Sif and Balder…"

"No, Lord, I have something to tell… to suggest…" He faltered, fearing to sound like an idiot. Frigga's hand gripped his shoulder encouragingly.

It reminded him that not only was this for Sif, it was for any other lady around who might otherwise fall prey to Maldunn's madness. He had to say it.

He looked at his father as he presented the ridiculously simple loophole he and Heimdall thought they'd discovered in the Allfather's spell casting. The Allfather looked surprised, thoughtful, then galvanized as his son finished speaking.

To Thor's utter astonishment, Odin leapt from the chair he'd been slumped in and embraced his son. "Of course! Of course. I had forgotten that Sif, for all that we call her 'lady' at times, has never technically been presented as one, and (more fool I) did not take care to recall that magic can sometimes be irritatingly literal. It must be the answer."

"But…" Thor paused, then pressed on. "But what if it isn't?"

"Then we will at least have eliminated one possibility," His father told him briskly. "But I think you are correct in your thinking. I am proud of you, Thor Odinson, so proud that in the midst of seeing to a dear friend's needs you were still able to think through to a larger problem, and find a solution as well!"

Thor swallowed the sudden tightening of his throat at his father's words. He didn't say things like that to him often.

"Further," Odin continued, "If your idea is right, there is an easy remedy—and Sif ought to have been presented to the court long ago. We will take care of it tonight!" His expression became more serious as he continued, "I will see that Maldunn is well restrained, but… You will need to warn Sif; we do need him there to see that whether the geas is truly intact."

"I understand," Thor answered, though he felt uneasy at the thought of Maldunn anywhere near Sif—even a pathetic and crying Maldunn, as he'd last seen the weapons trainer.

"If it does not work," Odin mused, "We shall have to think of other possibilities. In any case, I still have to look for the other hand in all of this..." Pondering this possibility, his gaze went inward as he dismissed his son.

A sudden panic overtook Thor as he took his leave of Lord Odin, as he realized that he'd just signed Sif up for the sort of formal event she usually hated, and what's more she would be expected to be presented as a lady. Which meant court dress. Thor wasn't sure Sif even owned a dress.

And the ladies of the court always seemed to have elaborate hairdos and gowns and all; how would Sif, who'd never done any of it, manage? Her parents lived in a faraway town, so she wouldn't even have her mother to help her. She'd murder him for signing her up for all this…

Just as he was beginning to work himself up into a real panic, his mother stopped him. "If it will make it easier, I will collect Brunnhilda and she and I will ensure that Sif is properly ready to be presented tonight," she suggested.

Thor wrung his mother's hands gratefully. "Would you?"

"It would be my pleasure. And if I'm not mistaken, Brunnhilda has been dying to get Sif dressed up these many months; she will aid us, I'm sure. Just you be ready to escort Sif in, Thor."

"Escort—? Uh… me?"

"Yes, you. Of course, you." Frigga frowned at his obtuseness. "You are her closest friend, and her family does not live in this city anymore. Who else would escort Sif in?"

"Uh…"

"Actually," Odin put in from the doorway, amused, "Who else would Sif allow to escort her in?"

Thor had to admit, he had a point, and rapidly left. He reflected that while at times having parents so blasted powerful, influential, and multitalented could be irritating and intimidating and overwhelming for their much less-so son… well, at other times, it was certainly convenient to have brilliant parents.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Unseen in the shadows, Loki silently made his way back to his own rooms. He had to talk to Amora, fast. They had to be sure that no trace of their interference with Odin's geas remained. Otherwise…

"I still have to look for the other hand in all of this."

His adoptive father's words resounded in his head like a promise. Or a threat.

He and Amora had to make absolutely sure that nothing could be traced back to them.

He didn't want to think about the alternatives.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

"Are you certain nothing about that potion can be traced back to you? My father seemed to recognize something in it."

Amora waved off his concerns airily. "Loki, I'm certain there's nothing so unique in that potion that it could be laid at either of our feet. And with your magic mixed in to force Maldunn to focus only on that bitch Sif, that muddies the magical signatures even further."

"Even still…"

She huffed in annoyance. "Look, how often do you hear about magic-workers working together on a private project? Almost never. Besides, who would suspect you or me?"

"Oh, I don't know, perhaps Sif?" Loki returned sarcastically.

"Even she would not believe you would dare to do such a thing, especially not under the Allfather's nose." The blonde insisted, then changed the subject. "What I want to know, is why did it take so long to work? He should have had her by the morning of the second day. And then her ruined body would have no interest for Thor, and he'd finally come back to his senses—and come back to me."

He was only 'with' you because of your spell casting, idiot, Loki thought spitefully. And you can't cast spells on someone around the clock. But he'd already heard the screeching denials when he tried to suggest that his foster-brother had more tender feelings for Mjolnir than for the petty, pouting, sorceress.

As for her question as to why the spell, strongly-cast as it was with both of their rancor behind it, had taken so long to work… "I don't know," he replied, irritably. "She seemed resistant to the potion at first. Maybe Maldunn didn't use as much as we anticipated. Maybe you didn't make the Maidens' Woe strong enough." Curiously he added, "Where did you find such a potion recipe, anyway? Certainly it's not in the scrolls on standard potion-making."

At this she barked a derisive laugh. "That doddering old fool Drifa is easily led; she really should not be allowed to teach. I told her I was worried about accidentally creating a potion that could harm my friends, and gradually got her to tell me the entire thing without her realizing it."

He blinked, impressed despite himself. Tricking the teachers at the academies was a feat in itself: they were sharp. He allowed a cool smile to cross his face. "Well, then, if you bring knowledge like this, perhaps you would be interested in working with me again… should I have need of such assistance," he not-quite-asked.

She leaned forward eagerly, no subtlety in her body language at all. "Will it get me Thor?"

An irritated expression lent an edge to his reply. "I don't know; I am not in charge of my brother's feelings or his heart. What I still hope is to get rid of that interfering Sif."

An exhale and pursed lips twisted her expression momentarily. "Not that I don't wholeheartedly support that goal, but— Why do you dislike her so?"

"I have my reasons."

"Yes, but… why? What are they?"

He was silent a moment, his jaw tightening, and Amora's eyes widened as she comprehended that that was perhaps a question she ought not have pressed.

But he replied. "For all her other faults, and traits, and features that make me hate her, Sif is Heimdall's sister—she shares in his keenness of vision sometimes. And at times, she sees me… too clearly," he replied shortly, then swept out of the room, not interested in hearing any more of Amora's questions, nor in contemplating the answers that emerged in his mind. She sees me too clearly… and I don't like what Sif sees.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Later that morning, Sif woke, stretched, and promptly fell off of the narrow window seat. Blinking, she shoved down the blanket tangled around herself and looked around: No, she was in her own room, but why…

Ah. Memory returned, as she recalled sitting up with Thor long into the night, just talking. His arm had been warm around her, and soothing, and though they'd sat alone together before, last night had felt… different, somehow.

It was odd. She didn't feel different; perhaps it was something with Thor? But he'd been his own kind thoughtful self, too, so…

But… he had been different, telling her she was interesting—and attractive?—and that he liked that she wasn't like other girls. She wasn't entirely sure she believed him, but perhaps that accounted for the change.

A knock at the door brought her out of her musings, and she called a welcome. Brunnhilda's bright head poked round the door, her expression turning puzzled when she saw Sif on the floor.

"Good m—Are you all right?" She asked, coming towards her. "Why are you on the ground?"

"Apparently I fell asleep in the window seat and Thor didn't want to wake me."

"Oh. Why were you–wait—Thor didn't want to wake you?" She interrupted herself coyly. "And what was he doing here so late, hmm?"

"Oh, stop," Sif laughed, standing. "We were talking until late, that's all. He was being a good friend."

"Mmhmm."

"Really."

"Right. Anyway, are you feeling up to getting breakfast with me? I have something to…er… ask you."

"All right," Sif agreed, a bit puzzled at the blonde's sudden caginess. "Give me a moment to get ready."

"Sure," came the response. "Because of—of everything that happened, there aren't any classes today. You've got time."

"Well, that's nice. A day off." Sif replied, trying not to remember that this cancellation was likely on her account. Quickly she loosened and re-braided her hair, and ducked momentarily behind her dressing screen to change from the clothes she'd slept in.

As they left her room she asked her friend, "So what was it you wanted to ask?"

"Actually, it's more of a strong request," came a voice from behind them: Frigga.

Both turned, Sif automatically bowing as she did so. "My lady Frigga, good morning. Of course I will comply with any request you make of me."

"I am glad to hear you say so," Frigga smiled, as she and Brunnhilda exchanged a conspiratorial glance. "But before I tell our request to you, let us go and eat; your friend Balder is quite anxious to see how you fare."

A smile creased Sif's face. "Dear Balder. Of course. Let's eat, and then you can request away."

Later, Balder made fast tracks away from the dining hall, avoiding the coming eruption behind him. From the color that had risen in Sif's cheeks at Brunnhilda's suggestion, she was feeling much better today. Discretion is the better part of valor, right? He assured himself, as he put distance between himself and Sif's indignation.

"A what? I don't even own a dress!"

Much as he'd enjoy seeing how Brunnhilda and Frigga would get Sif to comply, he wasn't going to stick around to get hit with the fallout. He might be Balder the Brave, but that didn't mean he was stupid.

He left Brunnhilda and Frigga to their convincing of Sif; silently he wished them luck. They'd likely need it.

Some time later, the three women congregated in Brunnhilda's rooms. They'd finally found what Brunnhilda had begun to think was impossible: a dress that suited Sif, a dress that wouldn't trip her up, and one that she was willing to wear at all. Now she and Frigga eyed the dark-haired girl as she sat carefully still to avoid mussing the gown.

"Hmm…" Frigga mused. "Silver, I think, for her coloring…"

"Definitely. But as for the hair… up? Braided?"

"Perhaps a braided coronet?" Countered the queen.

The bemused Sif, who'd never been slathered in so much practical femininity in her life before, shook herself awake. She was willing to follow the others' lead on things like her dress and jewelry, but her hair was one thing she took a secret interest it.

"Do you think…" She started hesitantly. Brunnhilda and Frigga turned eyes to her face, interested expressions. Inwardly Brunnhilda leapt for joy: was Sif actually taking an interest? Brunnhilda would take whatever baby steps she could in her self-imposed quest to see Sif a bit less the would-be-boy warrior and more warrior-maid. If her sister Valkyries could pull off both being feminine and a warrior—why not Sif, too?

"Yes, Sif?" Frigga prompted gently, when she hesitated. "Is there a way you think you might like to wear your hair?"

"Could I—perhaps—just wear it down? I never get the chance to just let my hair fall free."

"Hmm…" Frigga's eyes narrowed as she considered the dress, Sif's shape, her overall impression. "It might be a bit plain…"

"Perhaps not, my lady; I have an idea." Brunnhilda said, and began unbraiding one of Sif's long plaits. "What do you think about…"

They combed and pinned, braided and unbraided, jeweled, took the jewels off, added others in their place, till all three were satisfied with the image that looked back from the long mirror.

Well, Frigga was satisfied, Brunnhilda looked like the cat that fell into the cream, and Sif…

Sif was surprised. She looked… like a lady, which she knew was the point, but she had never thought her work-toughened body could look softer; her generally utilitarian hairstyle hid the shining richness of her long hair; the lines of the gown she wore drew attention to her lean, elegant figure.

Frigga and Brunnhilda had done something arcane with some sorts of cosmetics which brought out unexpected golden and green glints in her suddenly larger-seeming eyes; and they'd made the planes of her face look striking rather than harsh; and they'd made her mouth look soft instead of stubborn.

But for all this—the person looking back at her was still her, still had that sarcastic wrinkle above her left eyebrow, still looked like the warrior-girl of Asgard. But for once, the 'girl' part was emphasized, and Sif finally started to get an inkling of what Brunnhilda was always going on about…

For the first time that day, the dread of being presented was muted somewhat by the dim excitement of wondering—what would everyone think?

This becoming a lady, officially, might not be such a terrible thing after all.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Odin, Allfather, King of the bright realm of Asgard, was focused. He was intent.

He sighed. He was frustrated, and not coming up with answers, a rare situation for a man of his powers.

The tiny vial of potion they'd recovered from Maldunn's keeping stolidly kept its answers. It was Maiden's Woe… but it was something else, too. That 'too,' he felt sure, was key to unlocking this whole unlikely scenario.

If only I had a coterie of friends to call upon, as does Thor, he mused. Amazing how Thor, Sif, Balder, and now Brunnhilda all moved together as a team, shoring up one another's weaknesses and encouraging the building of each other's strengths. Fortunate son—and lately, fortunate Sif, to have such stalwart defenders about her who rarely needed defending.

Wait…

Shoring up one another's weaknesses…

Something about the thought sparked the tiniest bit of inspiration. He drew his power, focused anew, and reached for the magic-thick vial—

"My Lord Odin?" His wife's polite query broke his concentration.

"Eh?" he looked up, surprised to see the red rays of sunset streaming in the windows. When had that happened?

"Will you be joining us at Court and actually welcome Sif tonight, or shall I leave you to your work?" There was the slightest edge to his queen's voice, and while she would understand if he said he had to concentrate on his magicking, she also would be long in letting him forget it if he did so.

"Bah, thank you, my lady; I have been at this onerous task too long this day. I shall come back to it tomorrow with fresher eyes." He rose and stretched, then started for his chambers to array himself in a way to befit the recognition of Sif as a member of the court—and hopefully, render Sif invisible to Maldunn's preying eyes.

His wife followed him. "You will want to have fresh eyes for Court tonight," she suggested, a smile dimpling her mouth.

"Oh?"

She chuckled a little to herself. "Let us say that after tonight, Thor will never understand how he managed to miss seeing Sif as a young woman all this time."

His bass chuckle echoed hers. "She dons the part of a lady well, then?"

"Well…" she looked at him wryly. He'd known Sif and her tomboyish ways as long as she had. "Sif is still Sif. But at that—she'll be a Lady like our Court has never seen."

"Ah. So for once, the court will provide its own entertainment?"

"I don't think they'll have a choice."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Sif, Sif, Sif, Loki groused to himself, as he slipped into the Allfather's workroom. All this fuss over one irritating lousy would-be shieldmaiden. Ugh. He moved quickly over to the table where the inimical vial sat, and as quickly as he had ever done anything, swapped it out for an identical vial in his pocket; the new vial, of course, lacked his distinct magical signature, but otherwise appeared to be the same magically-perplexing item.

He had conned several of his fellow students into creating it for him, claiming to wish to see how disparate magical signatures interacted, and as he was a star pupil (not to mention extremely persuasive when he wanted to be), they had happily made the attempt.

Now, if the Allfather ever did figure out there were multiple magicians involved with the making of the Maidens' Woe, nothing could be traced back to him.

He ducked out of the workroom—and nearly ran into a surprised Allfather.

"Loki?" he said. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh—Father—I was looking for Mother," he replied smoothly. "I thought she might still be in your workroom. I wanted to know when to arrive at court tonight."

"You are coming?" Odin asked in surprise. "Your feelings about Sif are well-known; it seems… strange… you would want to be there. Unless you were planning on giving objection…?" A clear note of warning rang in the Allfather's voice.

"No, Father, of course not." Loki made a face. "I may not get along with Sif, but I do care about my brother. And about you and Mother. So, for your sakes… For tonight, at least, I can give at least some tolerance toward Sif, so as to not dilute your enjoyment. Besides, it should be interesting to see how Sif looks as a lady." He sneered a little, then gained control of himself. "So…"

"Your mother is getting ready, but I believe halfway through the fifth watch should have you there in sufficient time." He started to move on, then turned back, stroking his beard. "I am glad to see this unexpected thoughtfulness in you, Loki; I hope it continues."

Thoughtfulness, bah, Loki thought, rebelliously. And now I can't even object to Sif's entry into the court, since I said I would not.

He stalked toward his rooms, now self-obligated to get ready—but he couldn't come up with a more plausible reason to be in his father's workroom. I swear, she will get what's coming to her… someday.

Someday…

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Brunnhilda had been tasked with seeing that Sif made it to the entry hall of the palace, where she would meet Thor. As they neared the great golden doors, the Valkyrie noted with satisfaction the nervously pacing form of their friend.

Thor was dressed as befit a young prince of Asgard, bright metal-chased festal clothing adding a noble air to his youthful demeanor. That nobility went right out the window, though, when he laid eyes on Sif.

Brunnhilda grinned, shoved Sif a few paces closer to Thor, then vanished into the great hall.

Sif started to move toward Thor, but paused, uncertain, as Thor's eyes widened and his jaw loosened when he turned to look at her.

Sif was wearing a blue gown of a deep shade that made her skin seem to glow and highlighted her athletic figure; the top portion crisscrossed around her neck and the upper part of her shoulders and torso, then cascaded in never-ending folds around her legs to her ankles, where wrapped sandals she couldn't possibly trip on completed the formal attire.

Her hair was like a dark halo falling around her and past her hips, coiling like a living thing, restrained only slightly by the tiniest of seed pearl ropes braided into the tiniest of braids, loosely wrapped around the mass, containing it.

He had never realized that her dark hair had chestnut tones to it, warm and beckoning. Her eyes dropped under his scrutiny and when he didn't say anything her head ducked too, and he saw the flame of embarrassment rush up her shoulders and neck and face (and her shoulders were mostly bare, he realized, but this was somehow a different sort of 'bare' than the skin her working outfits showed. How had he never realized how beautiful shoulders could be?).

"Sif," he said, wonderingly. "Sif, you look… you look…" he groped for words.

A low whistle broke through the night as Balder loped toward them, dressed in his own finery. "Stunning?" he suggested, smiling. "Because you certainly look stunned, Thor."

Startled, Sif raised her eyes to Thor's face for the first time, and felt her eyebrows hike in surprise. Balder was right, Thor looked like someone who had just taken a heavy blow to the temple.

"Yes. Stunning," the prince repeated, blinking, but not taking his gaze off Sif til she stepped toward him. The young man shook himself all over, and belatedly offered Sif his arm. "Sorry. You just—you look amazing, Sif, more than I could ever have imagined."

"I—" she said, and actually blushed. "Thanks. Both of you, my thanks."

Balder grinned, "I'll see you in there… soon-to-be-Lady Sif." And ran on ahead.

Thor placed his warm hand over the suddenly cold one tucked into the crook of his arm. "Are you ready?"

She eyed him. "No."

He smiled. "No one is. I certainly wasn't!"

She looked at him, surprised enough at the admission she didn't notice him towing her towards the doors. "What—you were nervous? But didn't you grow up attending Court functions?"

"Of course I was nervous; the son of the Allfather, being presented to everyone? Lots of pressure there to measure up." He laughed. "And though I'd attended Court functions—as you have—it was different being presented at one. But I survived. And Sif, they already know you, this is really a formality. It will be short. You already know most people in the court, anyway."

She still looked uncertain, realized how close they were to the doors, and started to slow down.

He played his trump card. "Even Loki managed to be presented without anything disastrous happening."

That did the trick. "Loki managed it?" she snorted, and her head came up proudly. "If he could manage it, surely I can muster up enough bravery, too." She spoke boldly, but her eyes still asked a question of him.

He smiled and answered it. "I, or Balder, or Brunnhilda, will be with you all night," he assured her. "You won't be alone."

A real smile nearly floored him. "My thanks, my prince."

"My pleasure, my Lady Sif. Shall we go in?"

A slight final hesitation, a breath, then a nod; they stepped forward as the great doors swept open and they crossed the threshold.

A cry went up as they entered the crowded hall; a path cleared from the doors to the base of the dais where the Allfather and Queen Frigga sat.

Off to the right, Maldunn lurked, guarded and wrapped in chains and glaring balefully at Sif: obviously, his time of both obsession and remorse had passed, and Thor was grateful for the bulk of the guards flanking the disgraced weapons master. He felt Sif stiffen slightly beside him as they passed, but she made no comment, instead concentrating on keeping her head up and her steps even.

Thor put the man out of his mind, and hoped Sif could, too. As they reached the dais, Thor swept a deep bow as Sif managed a quite decent curtsey (Brunnhilda and Frigga having drilled her in it mercilessly earlier that afternoon.)

"And who is it you bring before me, young Thor?" The Allfather rumbled formally, his voice rolling deep across the crowd.

"I present to you the Lady Sif, warrior and shieldmaiden of Asgard." Thor replied steadily. "Though long a friend to Asgard's finest, never has she been formally acclaimed as befits her status; I ask you and the court of Asgard to accept her among your number, a bargain you will not regret."

"I know of Sif, and would tend to agree," Odin stated, and looked at Sif. "Is it your wish to be presented as a Lady to this court, warrior-maiden Sif?"

Somewhere she found the voice she'd lost and replied. "It is, Lord King Odin."

He smiled at her, then lifted his voice further. "I say I know of her, and approve; but are there any here who would say her 'nay'?"

Sif resisted the urge to look toward Loki, who was pointedly not paying attention to the goings-on.

As for the rest of the crowd… they bore out what Thor had said earlier; she recognized a great many faces, and all of them seemed to be holding their breaths so as to not appear to wish Sif's dismissal.

The silence held for a count of five, and at last, Odin thudded his staff on the ground with a loud crack. "It is so," he declared. "Bid welcome, then, to our newest member: the Lady Sif."

There was a strangled, sobbing gasp from Maldunn, who jerked in place, looked around wildly, then dropped like a stone, but this excitement was drowned out in the crowd that surged toward Sif, strong hands and kind faces welcoming her, congratulating her, putting her at ease.

A great many of her peers from the warriors school had reactions similar to Thor's: they got closer to her, smiling, then stuttered and stopped and stared, amazed that their tough school-fellow had been transformed into a bewitching goddess.

"I told you that dress was perfect," Brunnhilda said smugly into Sif's ear, as they waited for Balder and Thor to bring them some food. "Did you see Snorri? He just walked into a pillar."

A blush traveled over Sif's face for the umpteenth time that night. "It's… different," she allowed. "Very strange, to be made much of for just looking different. But it is convenient that when you're dressed up, people do things like get your food for you!" she laughed, as she saw Balder and Thor balancing places as they made their way back.

"There are advantages," Brunnhilda confirmed, smiling. "And it's not so terrible, is it?"

"Not once I got to sit down. Now I don't feel like everyone is looking at me."

"They are though," the blonde returned. "Look at Yuri. I think if you smile at him, he might fall over and start frothing at the mouth."

"Oh, hush, he would not." Sif risked a peek at the selfsame Yuri, who was standing about ten feet away. "…Would he?" she wondered.

Brunnhilda suggested mischievously, "Try it and see."

Gamely, Sif sent a smile Yuri's way, and to her astonishment his ears turned red, his eyes crossed, and had Volstagg not absently backed into him, he would have collapsed. As it was, the great bulk of the great warrior shook him awake and he shot Sif one last look and disappeared into the crowd.

Brunnhilda started snickering. "Told you."

"Hush." Sif's face flamed again.

"Ladies," Balder intoned, grinning, as he placed plates down on the long table. "Your dinner is served. Half of it anyway; here comes Thor with the rest."

"Thanks, Balder!" Sif exclaimed, and Brunnhilda echoed her. "That was very kind of you."

"Only what you both deserve," Balder returned gallantly. "So, Lady Sif. How are you enjoying—"

He broke off as Amora, in a gleaming skintight poison-green dress, eeled her way up to the table. She tendered Sif a very sarcastic curtsey. "Welcome, Sif," she said insincerely. "I would not have known you; you almost appear female tonight."

Brunnhilda bristled, but Sif spoke before she could. She peered at Amora as though searching for something in the mass of teased, blonde curls. "Ah—Amora? Oh! It is you. I'd hardly know you, you seem… almost attractive. Well done! I do hope you didn't have to put too many hours of effort into it; to come so close, only to fail, would be a pity."

At the unexpected riposte, Amora jerked straight, her lips tightening into an unpleasant line. "Just remember, this doesn't make you one of us," she hissed in outrage, and flounced off. She paused a moment, to bat her eyes at Thor, who spared her one absent glance, then returned his attention to Sif as he navigated his way back to their table, laden with more food and drink.

He wore a slight frown as he glanced in Amora's direction. "What was she doing here? She is no friend to you, Sif."

"Oh," the girl said lightly, "she merely wanted to bid me welcome and compliment my attire. Though I should have let her know all credit really ought to go to Queen Frigga and my good friend Brunnhilda, here." She added genuinely.

"And I'm telling you, your beauty is always apparent; the queen and I merely polished it up a little to make it more obvious," Brunnhilda returned contentedly, sipping from her flagon. "You'll have trouble hiding it now."

"Hiding what?" Sif asked, puzzled.

Thor frowned, thinking at first she was fishing for compliments. That was definitely unlike Sif… Then he realized she was being sincere.

"Really, Sif!" he burst out. "I just don't believe you sometimes!"

She blinked. "What?"

"How can you have no idea of how you draw people in? It's not just for your skills that the other boys are jealous of the friendship we all share with you," he said, gesturing at their group. "It's that there's something about you that makes people want to be near you…"

"…even when you're soundly trouncing them in training," Balder put in, laughing.

"…or striking them with the sharp edge of your tongue," Brunnhilda added wryly.

"Oh, yes, wondrous traits!" Sif laughed, then sobered. "No doubt it was my mocking tongue that drew Maldunn in, yes?"

At that reminder of the ultimate reason for the evening's presentation, they all quieted.

Abruptly, Sif stood. "I have to see if the geas is still intact,"

As one, the others stood with her. Brunnhilda stated firmly, "We will come with you." Forestalling Sif's automatic protest that they should stay and enjoy themselves, she added, "if that madman attacks you again…"

"None of us would forgive ourselves." Thor said.

"Ever," Balder added.

Sif looked around. "Here is where my true good fortune lies: in having such wonderful friends! Come, let us seek out Lord King Odin and see if his magics are still working as they should."

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Odin withdrew with the group to a small antechamber. None noticed Loki lurking in the shadows. At a signal from the Allfather, Maldunn, sullen and tired-looking, was dragged in front of the group, still chained.

"Allfather, that dark-haired witch is gone from my sight; she can no longer be a foul source of temptation to me. Cannot I be loosed from these shackles?"

Thor nodded toward Sif, who bravely walked directly in front of Maldunn. He stared through her as though she weren't there. "Well, Lord King?"

"Very—" Odin began to say, but a swift curtsey from Sif (in that dress, there really was no other option) caught his attention. "Yes?"

"Lord King, in recompense of the injuries I have taken, and my friends on my behalf, I beg a boon of you."

"Surely you deserve it," Odin said gravely. Maldunn frowned, and shook his head, as though trying to determine who, or what, Odin was speaking to. "What is your request?"

"That you increase the geas on this Maldunn, that he shall not ever be able to perceive a woman, aside from the merest hint of sound to avoid a collision. And that this not merely apply to the women of your court, but that it apply to any woman, anywhere. While I cannot get too angry at him on my behalf—I still cannot remember anything that was done to me—I ask this for the protection of other women.

"And if you will ask Maldunn, I believe he would agree this is a solution he has been looking for, that if he cannot control himself, he will allow himself to be controlled in this one specific aspect of his life."

Odin blinked slowly, and turned his head to Thor. "Indeed, you have a thoughtful and wise friend here, son."

"I know it." Thor replied, gripping Sif's nearest shoulder supportively.

So Odin presented the proposition to Maldunn, whose expression betrayed anger and loneliness, and a strange sort of relief, all mixed together. But he agreed.

And it was done.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

And in the shadows, Loki echoed their sigh of relief, when he realized what a close shave he'd had. He considered that perhaps he should keep his tormenting of Sif to himself and not use others as tools in future.

He had come far too close to being found out by Odin or Thor or Balder; and Brunnhilda, he thought, might suspect him of some mischief in this whole affair still. He shuddered to think what that one would do to him if she ever discovered he was behind all of this…

His next plan would have to be subtler still. Definitely…

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Later, when they'd returned to the party and Fandral of all people claimed Sif for an energetic dance, Brunnhilda and Balder sat, talking.

"…The problem is, he doesn't see Sif as a woman, really. She's still his friend, and closer than a friend, but he doesn't see her as someone to woo."

"You think so? I think Thor feels more than that," Balder objected.

"You'll see. Someone will woo her and sweep her off her feet," Brunnhilda predicted, "If Thor doesn't watch out. Sif doesn't know what to look for to know he likes her, and Thor can't imagine that he might ever need to fight for her affections."

"I suppose we shall see." Balder said. "But I think Thor is smarter than that."

"Hmm…" was all her reply, as she watched Thor watch Sif dance with Fandral. "Well. I suppose we will see. For now, it's enough that the women here are safe, yes?"

Balder smiled at her. "Yes. I am glad you've come to be with us, Brunnhilda."

"As am I." she laughed. "You certainly keep it more interesting around here than at the Valkyrie enclave, that's for sure!"

"True. One always has to wonder what tomorrow will bring. With people like Sif and Thor around, it'll always be something!"

She could only laugh in agreement and he joined her, the happy sounds mixing with the tumult of the crowded hall of Asgardians.

Out near the gate to the Rainbow Bridge, Heimdall watched his sister spin and laugh and be made much of for once. He smiled to himself: for now, all was right with Asgard. Brunnhilda and Balder were right—it wouldn't last long—but for now, all was well. And that was enough.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-

FIN.

(for now.)

Thanks for hanging in there with me folks! A triple-length posting to finish this sucker off, and a sequel is in the works already.

For those of you wondering about my health—I'm much better now, thanks, but that crack on the head took a loooong time to get over. Basically I had to wait for the bruise on my brain to fade away, then wait for my brain to start repairing itself. Writing was nearly impossible for about 2 months as the story ideas just wouldn't stay in my head long enough to make sense of them. So, sorry!

I shall stay AWAY from things that send me to the ER in future. I promise!

—Alara