Chapter 55: Sif & Loki In Love?
Chapter 55: Sif & Loki In Love?
A few hours later, I managed to track down a cave that wasn't entirely filthy. It took a few targeted bursts of air magic to sweep out the centuries of dust and grime, making the stone hollow habitable. Since we were entirely without guards, I funneled my life magic into the earth outside, forcing a dense curtain of thick vegetation to sprout and block the entrance from any prying eyes. To guarantee total security, I laid down a multi-layered array of illusion talismans around the perimeter. No sound, light, or smell would escape into the night. We were magically off the grid.
Inside the sheltered cavern, I set up the pop-up tent, pulled out a portable magic grill, and laid down a spread of comfortable bedding. Only then did I carefully bring out Lana, who was still fast asleep.
Using a bucket of clean water and a fresh towel, I gently removed her tattered rags and began the meticulous process of cleaning her. Once the grime and dried blood were washed away, I searched for a change of clothes. I slid the first ring off her finger, expecting a storage artifact, but the moment it left her hand, the illusion dissolved.
The ring was a glamour charm used to disguise her as human.
Naturally, purely for scientific observation, I reached out and touched her ears. They were elegant, tapering to a point exactly half the length between a human's and a high elf's. Staring at her raw, half-elf beauty—and the undeniable fact that she was completely naked—I completely lost my train of thought. Dazed, I forgot which finger the disguise ring had originally been on. I ended up sliding it onto her left ring finger, completely forgetting that the world of Myst didn't share Earth's wedding traditions. (And completely forgetting that Owen and Leandra already knew the truth anyway.)
I turned my attention to her actual storage ring, navigating its ten-by-ten cubic foot pocket dimension. It was packed with clothes, jewelry, survival rations, a mountain of unnecessary cosmetics, gold, potions, academy uniforms, and random knickknacks. But tucked away in the corner was a stark surprise: a standalone picture of me.
Coughing to clear my throat, I pulled out a set of undergarments, a school uniform, and a high-grade healing potion, before slipping her storage ring back onto her right ring finger. The underwear I’d selected was a set of matching red and black silk panties and a bra. I told myself I absolutely did not enjoy the process of dressing her. Not one bit. If anyone ever asked, that was the story I was sticking to.
Just like a full-blooded elf, she had no body hair below the neck. Again, I verified this purely for the sake of rigorous scientific inquiry.
After combing and styling her hair into a neat braid, it was finally time to administer the healing potion. I carefully uncorked the vial and tipped the green, glowing liquid past her lips. She swallowed it down with a soft gulp. Laying her head back onto the bedding, I stepped away to prepare a meal, praying she would wake up completely normal.
Sizzle.
The magical fire grill hummed, searing the fresh fish I’d pulled from the nearby river. The meat practically hummed with pure life aura. To balance the meal, I sliced a medley of fruits and vegetables, tossing them onto the heat to fry.
Rustle.
Behind me, Lana stirred. She sat up, looked around the clean cave, and quietly inspected her new clothes. Instead of panicking, a warm smile spread across her face.
"My head feels so much better. Thanks, Loki," she said, her voice smooth. "But why are you cooking? That’s my job, silly."
Her tone was casual, entirely too familiar. A cold spike of unease hit my chest. "Lana... did you get your memory back?"
Before I could process her reaction, she lunged forward. Thud. She wrapped her arms tightly around my back, burying her face into my shoulder before reaching up to pinch my cheek hard.
"Every single time you call me by another woman's name, I’m going to pinch you, Loki," she pouted, her voice dripping with mock unhappiness. "You just love telling me lies, hmph!"
Despite the playful tone, I noticed her flinch slightly, her brow furrowing as if she were trying to grasp a thought slipping away in the deep. Panic set in.
I knew absolutely nothing about amnesia or how permanent brain trauma could be, and her head had been severely injured for a long time.
"I'm sorry," I said softly, trying to placate her. "Um... what did you want me to call you again?"
Mwah.
Lana beamed, leaning in to plant a soft kiss on my cheek. "Wife, or Sif Sky. Nothing else will do. I'm really hungry, Loki... I think I forgot to eat."
Sky? It was fascinating that she was claiming my adopted surname, especially since she had never used a family name before. Deciding to play along to jog her memory, I opted to pretend that I was the one suffering from a foggy mind.
"The food is just about done, Sif," I said, plating the fish. "I think I’ve been a bit confused lately, which is why I messed up your name. Do you... do you remember what our son's name is?"
She placed a soft, cool hand against my forehead, nodding sagely. My heart did a nervous flip at the contact. "Loki, you definitely have a slight fever. But how could you forget Ullr Sky? He’s got strawberry-blonde hair, just like a mix of mine and yours, hehe."
"Ullr, right..." I swallowed hard. "How old is he now?"
"Seven. And he's a troublemaker just like his father, sigh."
I turned off the magic circle, carrying the plates over to the bedding. We sat facing one another, but instead of eating her own portions, Lana kept cutting off pieces of her fish and holding them up to my mouth. She offered a radiant, warm smile every time I finally gave in and took a bite.
"Your cooking needs a little practice, Loki," she teased lightly. "But now that your wife is back around, you can just leave the kitchen to me."
"Sif... how long have we been married?"
"Hmm, it'll be twenty years soon. Don't you dare forget our anniversary, Loki."
I leaned forward, trying to ground the conversation in reality. "Do you remember how to use your Summoner magic, Sif? Can you still call your beasts?"
"Magic?" She tilted her head, looking entirely amused. "The only magic I have is the spell that made you fall in love with me. You used to tell me I was the most beautiful woman in all of Myst, and that you loved my golden hair. Oh, and that you loved my body, haha!"
I stared at her, internal alarms blaring. Why was I suddenly questioning my own reality? She believed this narrative with such absolute, unwavering conviction that a tiny, irrational part of my brain wondered if I was the one who was crazy.
"Sif," I muttered, leaning in closer to trap her in a lie. "When we... make love, what exactly do you like about me? And do you even know how big I get when I'm fully aroused by you?"
She was a virgin. She had only ever caught a fleeting glance of me after the fact. There was no physical way she could fabricate the details.
She smirked. Raising her hands, she held her two index fingers apart, perfectly mapping out my exact length down to the millimeter.
"Naturally, I love it most when you push in deep at your climax," she purred, her eyes locking onto mine. "And during our lovemaking, you always love to kiss my nipples, my collarbone, and my neck. You're always so gentle with me, Loki, and you always try to make sure we finish together."
Spew!
I choked violently, coughing as a piece of fish went down entirely the wrong pipe. Damn it! She knew my exact preferences in bed. Did she talk to my other wives? Did they write a manual?!
Lana—or Sif—gently wiped the stray spittle from my mouth, her expression shifting to one of tender concern. "Loki, I think you've been working way too hard. I'll ask my father to give you some time off, and we can take Ullr up north for a vacation."
"Sif... I'm not feeling very well," I wheezed, shifting to stand. "I think I need to sleep early."
Before I could slide away, her hand shot out, grabbing my collar. She pulled me down and slammed her lips against mine.
The moment she felt me try to pull back, her grip tightened. She deepened the kiss, forcing an inexperienced, clumsy french kiss that was so distinctly Lana it gave the game away entirely. But the warmth of her lips, the sheer desperation of the kiss, washed over my defenses. I forgot that she wasn't in her right mind. I forgot the rules. I leaned into it, kissing her back because it felt entirely too good, convincing myself that just a kiss wouldn't hurt.
When she finally broke the contact, her lips were swollen and her blue eyes eagerly searched my dazed, thoroughly confused face.
"Loki Sky..." she whispered, her voice trembling with sudden weight. "I... love... you."
Her thumb gently stroked my lower lip, waiting for the echo.
"Sif... I love you as well," I murmured.
A thrill danced across her features, bright and ecstatic. "Make sure you tell me those exact words when we wake up in the morning, Husband."
Loki, snap out of it, I screamed at myself. Don't give in to her charms. She's injured!
"Okay," I said aloud, my voice tight. "I will... Sif."
Lana finally let go of my collar. Seizing the opportunity, I scrambled backward, grabbing an outdoor sleeping roll and crawling into it to hide. I pointedly left the comfortable bedding inside the pop-up tent for her.
Rustle. Rustle.
The sound of rustling fabric echoed through the quiet cave. I expected her to slide into the tent, but instead, the fabric of my own sleeping bag peeled back. A soft, warm body slid in right beside me.
"L—Sif! What are you doing?" I stammered, freezing up. "I made your bed inside the tent!"
She wrapped herself around me like an octopus, locking her limbs over mine. She looked at me like I was a complete idiot. "We are husband and wife, Loki. Of course we sleep in the same bed. If you want me in the tent, then come inside with me. Otherwise, go to sleep. I thought you said you were tired? ...Unless you still want to make love?"
"I'm tired. Very tired. Good night, Sif!"
I closed my eyes, cursing my past self for dressing her in such skimpy silk underwear. I was perfectly decent in my sleeping pants and tunic, but Lana was essentially naked against my back, wearing nothing but a bra and panties.
Sniff.
She buried her nose in the crook of my neck, smelling my hair. I shut my eyes tighter, playing dead, while two imaginary figures materialized on my shoulders, screaming over the noise of my racing heart.
Angelic Odin: My baby has amnesia, you degenerate! Don't you dare hurt her!
Devil Milf Elf: This is the golden opportunity we’ve been waiting for! Give me a grandchild right now!
Angelic Odin: If you lay a single finger on her, I will personally throw you into the deepest dungeons of Albion Castle!
Devil Milf Elf: Please, I’ll bust him out in an hour, and Lana will help. Break the law!
Angelic Odin: Loki, think about it! We are otaku brothers from the exact same Earth. Don't do this to me!
Devil Milf Elf: Are you seriously going to pass up a hot Half-Elf Princess for your harem? Are you insane?
Angelic Odin: Loki... what would your brother Thorin think?!
Devil Milf Elf: Push her down, you coward! This is literally the only chance you’ll ever get to love her freely. Angelica is just going to find some high-society noble to force her to marry anyway. Don't disappoint me, Loki!
I knew, logically, that this ridiculous tribunal was just a stress-induced figment of my own imagination. But a heavy, suffocating knot tightened in my throat. I loved Lana. I loved her in a way that felt entirely too pure to tarnish with a lie. If she ever got her real memories back, if she woke up and realized what she had surrendered in a state of confusion... she would hate me. The thought of her regret was a physical ache.
A soft hand moved in the darkness, gently cupping my cheek.
"Husband?" Lana’s voice whispered, losing its playful edge. "Why are you crying? Are you hurting?"
I blinked, realizing my face was wet. Why was I crying?
"I'm sorry," I choked out, the words catching in my throat. "I’ve forgotten too much about us. I don't know how to face you like this."
A long, quiet sigh filled the space between us. "Sigh... Loki, this is exactly why I fell in love with you. My mother was completely right about your heart."
Before I could process her words, she rolled me onto my back. While I was still clumsily wiping the tears from my eyes, she shifted, climbing directly over my lap to look down at me.
"I'm sorry, Loki," she murmured softly. "The truth is... when I woke up in this cave and realized how beautifully you had taken care of me, my real memories came flooding back. But... I just wanted to act like your wife. Just for a little bit. I didn't mean to make you cry."
I froze, entirely stunned. Did my completely honest, no-lies Lana just pull a fast one on me?
Mwah.
While I sat there paralyzed, she leaned down and kissed me again. My hands automatically came up to push her shoulders away, to restore boundaries—but they stopped mid-air, hovering uselessly.
Lana broke the kiss, her breathing a bit shallow, a soft confidence radiating from her. "For tonight, let me just be your wife, Sif. Until the morning comes and we have to break the illusion, let me stay like this. Because I really do, deeply and truly, love you, Loki Sky."
I swallowed hard, trying to assemble one last line of defense before making a sequence of incredibly reckless life choices. "What about King Owen? Queen Breeze? Queen Angelica? Prince Vali, Thorin Sky... your entire reputation?"
In the dim moonlight filtering through the vines, I watched her reach up. She pulled her braid apart, letting her long, golden-blonde hair cascade down her shoulders in a wild, free wave. Then, she slid the glamour ring off her finger entirely, letting her exotic, ethereal elven features shine in the dark.
"If any of those people can find a way to stop us before tomorrow morning, then I will accept that our love was never meant to be, Loki," she whispered, her eyes burning with an absolute, terrifying certainty. "Now... say what I want to hear."
My defenses crumbled into dust. "Sif... I love you. Can I say it to you in the morning, too?"
Mwah.
This time, there was no hesitation, no playful trickery. Her kiss was heavy, passionate, and desperate—the absolute surrender of a young woman in love, ready to throw her entire world away for a magnificent, beautiful mistake.
It was a mistake she wanted to make more than anything.
And, God help me, so did I.
Angelic Odin: That's it. I am giving Loki my Ragnarok.
Devil Milf Elf: Shut up, old man, and hold Prince Ullr.
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