Sif looked helplessly into Loki's eyes, a thousand and one regrets spilling forth and consuming her, all the words she had longed to say for so long now choking her throat and making it hard to breathe. She tried to focus on what was happening, tried to force her mind through countless strategies, but each one proved more futile than the last. It was hopeless and she cursed herself for never telling Loki how she felt about him. Now, she never would have the chance…

Suddenly though, Sif saw Loki's eyes flicker momentarily towards her, his eyes narrowing in acknowledgement before glancing quickly out across the clearing. Instinctively, Sif followed his gaze and saw a flicker of green light, a flash of emeralds calling to her. It was gone in an instant, the attention of the caster drawn elsewhere, but it was enough. Without further thought, Sif lunged forwards, dropping down into a roll and ignoring the sharp pain the actions unleashed upon her burnt and battered flesh. Her hand now found the cool metal of the dagger and the enchanted emeralds were still warm to the touch. She clutched it tightly and an exuberant battle cry spilled from her lips. It called the dragon's attention, but before the heat of its flames could fall upon her, she finished her roll so she was now under the enormous bulk of the great dragon. She lifted her head, the dagger held tightly within her fingers. With every muscle tense within her body, she thrust her arm upwards, under the great belly of the beast and into the charred flesh Loki had wounded earlier.

The dragon shrieked in agony, a piercing sound that echoed around the great forest and chilled Sif to her very soul. Immediately the roaring, blistering heat of flames ceased and only the stench of burnt wood and flesh remained. The legs of the great beast collapsed and the giant mass of the dragon crashed to the floor, aiming to crush its attacker. But Sif was too quick; already she had rolled out from under the giant beast, clutching the precious dagger tightly within her fingers. As she jumped up onto her feet, she risked a fleeting glance at Loki. He was doubled over in exhaustion and pain, his head bent and his hands clutching his stomach, as if about to be sick. The sight of him in so much agony was like a knife in her heart and Sif wanted to cry out, to run to him and cradle him in her arms. Her need to go to him, to comfort and protect him was almost enough to override even the warrior's instinct forever simmering within her veins. As if sensing her intention, Loki lifted his head and caught her eye. The pain was clear within their emerald depths, but he had forced his lips into a small smirk, a faint echo of his usual mischievous grin. He nodded his head and Sif understood his intention perfectly. She nodded her own in acknowledgement and then forced her eyes back towards the great dragon in front of her.

Sif had its full attention now and as it pushed itself to its feet, the sickly yellow eyes were fixed on hers. They were ferocious, filled with pain and fury at being denied its prize. She reached up her arm, holding the dagger high, and tensed her muscles, preparing to strike. She expected the dragon to run towards her and attack, but it remained strangely motionless, as if watching her, weighing up its enemy. Then, it began to turn towards Loki, as if it knew Sif's greatest weakness. And perhaps it did, for dragons were no lumbering trolls or brainless bilchsteims. They were shapeshifters, sorcerers, intelligent beasts almost as old as time itself. And this one had already found Sif's weakness earlier, had used it to lead her into its trap, and only Loki had stopped it from succeeding.

And now it wanted revenge.

But this dragon had underestimated its prey, for Sif felt a hot, fierce fury fill her veins. This great beast had tricked her enough tonight and now it seemed determined to hurt what was most dear to her. And Sif was not about to let it. So as the great dragon started to lunge towards Loki, Sif let the fury take over and direct her battle trained instincts. She ran towards the dragon, hollering the battle cry of the Æsir in her rage. The dragon realised its mistake too late, for Sif did not run to protect Loki and instead brought her sharp dagger down in between the thick scales of the dragon's legs, causing it to cry in pain and stumble forwards. She quickly aimed at its wings, ripping the thinner, muscular flesh between the tendons. Its giant head swung round towards her, but before it had time to release any more flames, Sif brought her dagger up into its throat, using the dragon's own momentum to push it deep. In the corner of her eye she saw the flicker of movement as the dragon swung its arms towards her, the claws flashing in the eerie light. The dagger was lodged in too deep, Sif could not pull it free and had to release her hold as she threw her body backwards, avoiding the sharp claws which grazed against her neck, drawing blood. She righted herself quickly, reached up both arms to the hilt of the dagger and pulled. She could see the dragon's giant tail now swinging towards her, its thick scales sweeping along the ground and the large spike at the tip aimed at her head. She had less than seconds to move, but she could not afford to lose the dagger again. She pulled, harder this time, felt the dagger begin to move, saw the spike loom closer…

The dagger finally slipped free and Sif dropped down, the spike whistling past her ear a scant inch away. Once more she fell into a roll, moving underneath the belly of the great beast. The moment she was clear of its bulk, she jumped upwards, wielding the dagger in her hands as she spun towards the dragon, ready to strike once more.

But Loki beat her too it. The sound of his throwing knives whistled through the air and struck deep where they met yielding flesh. He watched as one found its target, disappearing into the exposed neck of the dragon and sliding between the scales with perfect precision. It sunk in deep and lodged itself in the dragon's throat, preventing it from breathing fire. The second fell short; a few inches from its target, glancing off the dragon's thick eyelids and only sinking shallowly into the flesh there. He cursed his foolish mistake and what it would cost them. He had only one knife left, which he shifted in his hands as he tried to deduce the next place to strike. His aim was not what it should be, his arms tired from the magic he had wielded this night. Usually it flowed within him, the magic sending the knife perfectly to its target. But he had no magic left now; it had all been used in fighting the dragon and then healing himself enough so he could fight on. And though his aim was excellent even without the use of magic, he could not afford to miss again. So he trained his eye on the fierce yellow ones of the dragon, which had turned towards him now. He pulled back his arm, quickly calculated the speed he could achieve with his weakened muscles, shifted his aim to compensate and threw the dagger. All three pairs of eyes watched as it raced towards its target, shining like a green torch as it reflected the strange, ethereal light still illuminating the clearing. It found its target and sunk in deep, blinding one eye of the dragon.

It threw its head backwards in agony and screamed loud and long, a shriek from the very depths of Hel itself. It pierced through Sif's ears and momentarily distracted her. But then Sif saw her opening, calculated her next move and acted automatically. Before the dragon had chance to retaliate against Loki, Sif ran towards it. As she approached, she pushed down with all her strength, building the power in her legs before launching herself upwards, towards the dragon's face. It swept out a clawed hand towards her, its aim sloppy in its pain, but Sif had already calculated the movement and swung her hand towards it, the sharp dagger slashing through the thin scales lining his wrists. She continued on in her jump, kicking out with her foot and aiming for the knife near its eyebrow. Her strike proved true and the knife was pushed downwards, digging into the sickly yellow flesh of its eye. As the dragon's shriek increased in agony and filled her ears, she completed her move with a somersault backwards and landed with a jarring thud on the forest ground. The force of the impact jolted her already injured body and the pain momentarily distracted her, causing her foot to slip on a pile of leaves and she stumbled backwards. She was quick to find her footing though and this time she did not lose the precious dagger. She held it high, flung her hair back from around her face and faced the dragon with a scowl. But the dragon was not rearing above her now, poised to strike. It was clutching the two knives embedded deep within its eyes. Its head tossed backwards and forwards in agony and confusion, its large spiked tail thrashing around the clearing as the giant beast spun around, trying to seek out its attackers in its blindness.

Sif watched for several moments, keeping her distance as the great beast withered in agony and its shrieks of pain turned Sif's stomach. She had fought many dangerous beasts in her adventures with the two princes and the Warriors Three, many a time had felt her sword sink into the flesh of her enemies. And this beast especially had earned her wrath, tricking her, luring her to her death disguised as Loki and now attacking them both. Yet a strange sense of pity for this helpless creature filled her thoughts then. Try as she might, she could not help but remember when it had held a different form, one so dear to her. The fleeting memory of its whispered words, its warm closeness and its gentle kisses echoed through her mind. And now, though in its hideous true form, the memories haunted her and its shrieks of agony pierced her heart, confusing her. A killing blow would be the kindest, but Sif did not know where to strike to end the beast's suffering.

Her concerns were short lived though, for a moment later the great beast caught hold of the small knives in its clumsy claws and wrenched them out. There was a flash of sickly yellow light and once more the dragon's eyes focused upon them, its sight now magically restored. It released a booming roar full of bloodthirsty rage, so powerful the earth began to quake beneath her feet, catching Sif off her guard. A moment later it threw the knives back at its attackers. It happened so quickly, was so unexpected, that it was only Sif's natural instincts and carefully honed reflexes that saved her life. As she jumped out of the way, the knife grazed her arm and the sharp pain from the wound made her cry out. She had little time to examine the damage, for a moment later the dragon's tail once more swung towards her and she had to quickly throw herself backwards to avoid impact. As she moved, she flung our her arm wielding the dagger, but it merely glanced off the thick scales of the dragon's great tail and continued to swing around the forest, seeking its next target.

"Loki!" Sif cried out, but even as he turned towards her and heeded her warning, they both knew it was too late.

Thanks for reading and I hope you're still enjoying the story. More chapters are on their way.

Oh and in case you're wondering what a bilchsteim is, it's what Thor talks to Agent Coulson about in the Avengers, and I couldn't resist mentioning it here!