"The graves of Asgard are littered with men who underestimated Sif."
I am glad to hear this news— I would hope that this hunger quells o’er time… But as for your doubt, I will do what I can to ease it from your mind, if you would allow me to aid you in it. [ He smiles again, then looks her over with overwhelming pride. At least she’d come out of it— She wasn’t lost for good and that was something ]
It is not as terrible as you would think it. The hunger— ’Tis part of me as much as my sword or dark tresses. [I only hope I shall not lose myself to it again, as I once had, she thinks. That incident had marred her pride more than she would have liked. To have no control, no will, to be a slave blind r a g e … Tempting as it had been, it would solve nothing.] You aid me already, my love. [She gently brushes his cheek.] With your guidance. With your love.
He can instantly tell she’s not pleased to see him, a reaction he’s more than accustomed to, certainly when it comes to women. Peter swallows hard, attempting his most polite smile. “I’m a…a really good listener? He, uh, didn’t give a lot of details though so, it’d be nice if you stab me, because I can tell you’re considering it.”
“I have.” A pause. ”But I won’t.” Something told the shieldmaiden that this mortal is one of Thor’s many, many, m a n y allies, and she won’t not bring any of them to harm. No matter how annoying they are. Folding her arms, the lady observes him, her nonchalant expression not changing in the slightest. Finally she frowns and inquires, “And what business do you have with me?” She might as well ask that much before deciding it to be irrelevant.
"It’s Sif, right?" Peter smiles gently, glancing the woman over. Yeah, she had to be Asgardian, dressed like that. “Heard about you, uh, all good, of course. You’ve got a good guy rooting for you, you know.”
Oh, no, she thinks. Not you again. Sif is close to reaching for her sword when his f l i m s y attempts at flattery leave her vexed… and somewhat befuddled. ”I know." Thor. Obviously—though the implication that noble Thor is throwing her name every which way leaves her discontent.
”Though the question remains: how do you?”
[ He remains quiet a moment, then brushes her cheek with his thumb, them holds it as he presses his lips to hers. With her back, there was an ease he hadn’t felt in months. A relief that quelled the sorrow he felt when she had gone into her wild state ] If I may— How are you? Are there… lingering and plaguing thoughts still?
[Her eyes flutter ever so slightly as she relinquishes herself to this brief moment of respite. She had missed him, and Asgardia… Why, she had even missed Midgard, believe it or not. At the thunderer’s question, the goddess pauses thoughtfully, pressing her lips into a flat line.] ’Tis strange— My thoughts are lighter than I thought they would be. Doubt still clings to be, as does the hunger, but they are not as burdensome or troubling…