Lady Sif (
fiercestwarrior) wrote in
riverviewlogs2017-12-26 10:56 pm
Entry tags:
You and I are too wise to woo peaceably (closed)
who: Lady Sif and Ragnar Lothbrok
what: Some sparring gets out of hand because Sif is having a really bad day
when: Soon after Angela's departure
where: Training area
warnings: Violence, will update if necessary
It quickly became a habit for Sif to spar with Ragnar. She enjoyed his company (more than she probably should) and while he was fragile compared to her she knew that if ever she misjudged her strength when they fought, he would only laugh it off if she accidentally hurt him more than what could be called reasonable for a sparring match.
It was a good way to practice her speed and technique, and usually they had much to talk about once they were done with their training. It was easy to be with him, and often it lifted some of the weight she seemed to carry around on her shoulders almost constantly.
On this day, however, there was murder in Sif's eyes when she readied herself to fight. What Ragnar faced once they begun was still not the full force of her fury, but there was definitely a far sharper edge to the way she fell upon him with a ferocious series of strikes that were powerful enough to send a rattle through his bones whenever she blocked.
Eventually she got a good hit in on his arm, and the moment his weapon fell to the ground would usually have been where she at least paused to let him pick it up.
Not this time. This time she kept at it, driving him back further and further until she shoved him so forcefully that he flew a short distance. She followed with a roar that would not have been amiss on a bloody field, but certainly did not fit the current situation, and the next blow she struck split his shield right in two.
With another scream, her sword splintered as well as she smashed it into the ground next to his head.
what: Some sparring gets out of hand because Sif is having a really bad day
when: Soon after Angela's departure
where: Training area
warnings: Violence, will update if necessary
It quickly became a habit for Sif to spar with Ragnar. She enjoyed his company (more than she probably should) and while he was fragile compared to her she knew that if ever she misjudged her strength when they fought, he would only laugh it off if she accidentally hurt him more than what could be called reasonable for a sparring match.
It was a good way to practice her speed and technique, and usually they had much to talk about once they were done with their training. It was easy to be with him, and often it lifted some of the weight she seemed to carry around on her shoulders almost constantly.
On this day, however, there was murder in Sif's eyes when she readied herself to fight. What Ragnar faced once they begun was still not the full force of her fury, but there was definitely a far sharper edge to the way she fell upon him with a ferocious series of strikes that were powerful enough to send a rattle through his bones whenever she blocked.
Eventually she got a good hit in on his arm, and the moment his weapon fell to the ground would usually have been where she at least paused to let him pick it up.
Not this time. This time she kept at it, driving him back further and further until she shoved him so forcefully that he flew a short distance. She followed with a roar that would not have been amiss on a bloody field, but certainly did not fit the current situation, and the next blow she struck split his shield right in two.
With another scream, her sword splintered as well as she smashed it into the ground next to his head.

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Today, before they'd even begun, the atmosphere felt different. She was more quiet than usual. Too focused. But he'd offered to spar with her as he always did.
Within the first few strikes it was obvious he'd made a mistake. Even before her sparring sword connected with his forearm, he'd stopped attempting to get in strikes, all of his focus on fending off her flurry of attacks. The sparring swords were only wood, but she drove the strike down through his arm like she meant to cut it off. It was all over after that. He stayed behind his shield, deflecting blows that splintered the wood until not he, but the shield, finally gave out at the same time as he as flung backward. He was still trying to toss aside the debris of his sword when he caught the incoming blow and at the last second rolled to the side to avoid it connecting with his head.
Instead of getting up after the roll, he stayed kneeling, hands in the air as he panted to catch his breath.
"I yield," He called out to her and then exhaled a quieter 'what the fuck?' in old Norse.
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"Shit."
She threw the hilt of her sword at the nearest wall, and it connected with a sharp crack. She was breathing heavily, and her hands were starting to shake a little as it began to sink in how badly she had just lost control.
She sank down on her knees in front of Ragnar, her face full of concern though she didn't try to touch him, figuring he might take it the wrong way at the moment.
"Did I hurt you?"
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When she sank down in front of him, he immediately looked past her at the six or seven other guards and cadets who were still watching with raised eyebrows.
"Up. Come on. Up -no, I'm fine- let's walk. Come on," He got to his feet and ushered her to her's. He knew her well enough to know that something was wrong and that she would likely not want to be dealing with it in front of an audience.
Once they started walking, he put an arm around her shoulders to pull her in a little closer, only wincing slightly when his body complained.
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Sif leveled a threatening glare on the onlookers, as if daring them to say something. No one seemed inclined to test what would happen if they did.
It was something of a relief to feel Ragnar pull her close, if nothing else because it made it very clear that he wasn't worried that she was going to harm him. Perhaps that was why he did it.
"I am sorry."
It was spoken quietly, but sincerely.
"That should not have happened."
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He squeezed her shoulders, tugging her closer, as he leaned over to press a kiss into her hair when she apologized.
"It's fine," He let the silence stretch a bit assuming that if she actually wanted to talk about whatever was wrong that she'd bring it up, "You may have scared away a few potential sparring partners though."
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"Perhaps that is for the best."
If she couldn't control herself she had no business sparring with people who were not equipped to handle her strength.
"Have I scared you away?"
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He straightened, still smirking to himself.
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"I suppose I shall have to put up with you then."
She was silent for a bit, looking down at the ground while her steps fell in with his to match their paces.
"I hate this place."
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He was content to simply walk in comfortable silence. The scenery was not quite as impressive or inspiring as it was back home but walking, or being alone, had always helped him focus his thoughts and work through things.
He's quiet a moment after she speaks, thinking she might elaborate.
"Why do you say that?" The question is asked softly, more of a verbal reassurance that he's there and willing to listen to whatever was on her mind.
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She was quiet for a moment longer, unsure what to say, but when at last she began to speak it was as if the words were running out of her like blood from a wound. She couldn't seem to stop the torrent.
"I say it because since I came here, I have been told that my home no longer exists. I have had to face a man who has betrayed and manipulated me, and I would dearly love to kill him for it but I cannot because he is the brother of Thor, and Thor needs him. I say it because I have to make nice with Thor's lover because she makes him happy even though I would much rather pretend that she does not exist. I say it because a woman I kissed on Yule has left this place and her parting words to me involved saying that what passed between us should not have happened because her heart belongs to another."
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"...I can see why you would want to hit me for that," He said with a soft smile.
"As you well know, I can do nothing about any of those things. Except, perhaps, offering to kill Thor's brother," It was another quiet attempt to lighten the mood while remaining serious, "Do you feel better for saying it all out loud? Or worse?
Mm. Have you tried drinking until you forget?"
The last suggestion may or may not have been a joke, it was impossible to tell.
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"Better and worse."
Better because it released a bit of the pressure inside her, and worse because she hated to show so much weakness, and she hated that all these things were getting to her as much as they were.
"And if you tried to kill Loki, you would end up dead and I would have to mourn you too."
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"Loki? Right, right. I forget he is Thor's brother in your world. It is such a strange difference.
Can you not kill him?" He asked, more curious about the answer and less suggesting she actually do it.
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She sighed and leaned into him a little, winding an arm around his waist.
"Could I kick in his door and run him through with my sword? Yes. Probably. But all it would do is hurt people I love, and so I swallow my rage."
She gave him an almost apologetic little smile.
"For the most part."
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It was obvious that he wanted to smirk at her plan, but was trying very hard to stifle it.
"Well. Sometimes these things must be done... regardless of who it might hurt," The smirk finally slips through, "But. That is your choice to make."
"You did not give me an answer about the drink, though."
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Granted said annoying man was now a good sparring partner and friend who seemed to genuinely care about her so... it could have gone way worse, really.
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"So... It sounds like it ended very well?" He gave her a sly smile. "It does not have to be with me. Perhaps your underwear friend will drink with you?"
By underwear friend, he definitely meant Val.
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She may as well admit as much, since silence had served her rather poorly as of late.
"And Val will undoubtedly drink with me."
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"Val. Yes. I do not think she likes me," The shit eating grin had nothing to do with it. He swears.
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There was of course not a shred of jealousy involved in that somewhat grumpy response.
Not that it wouldn't be a valid point regardless.
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He was already loosely guarding his junk against an attack he was pretty sure was incoming, though maybe Sif wouldn't go straight for the groin hit.
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"Val probably threw them away, and speaking of undwerwear is not the same as offering to show them off you boar."
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"Well, how would one know if they looked and felt bad if they did not even try them? I was not convinced," He smirked.
Smile widening, he raked his eyes over her, top to bottom, "Did you get any others? Not the ones with the metal in the middle. Others. Good ones. I like these underwears. They're interesting."
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"No, I did not get any others."
She gave him a shove, torn between laughing and scowling.
"But why do you not go ask some other woman you have never met before to show her underwear to you."
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"Not her underwear. The underwear she claimed was somehow terrible," He corrected, eyes glinting with amusement, "I also do not think I specifically asked her to model them, just that they should be modeled before they could be properly judged by the rest of us. And she simply told me I was to buy her a drink first, so I offered. Naturally."
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