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A Fall to Grace chp. 1Chapter 1: Unexpected Revival
Sif had never considered herself a vain woman. Proud, yes. She was a fearsome warrior, proving through hard work and determination that she could be just as strong as any man. She was goddess of the harvest, providing fruitful times to the humans and giving them food that they needed to survive. And she knew she was beautiful, able to take off her armor for a dress at times and the look suited her just as well as her sword did.
But she was not vain. She knew that there were stronger than she. She knew she would same day meet her match and die honorably in combat. She knew there were others who were just as beautiful, even more so than she. Let it never be said that Sif, as proud as she was, did not know her limitations.
And yet, to see she had lost Thor to a human woman, it was a strike to her.
Sif had never loved Thor, not in that way. But she did care for him, saw him as a good man despite his attitude at times. He loved his friends and would never inten
Loki x Reader: Unwanted Endeavors Part 11 Part 2You managed to find the Val'ister's tent easily. You could see it towering over the shops for quite a distance away. It never ceased to surprise you how it large it was. The top of the tent was at least 3 stories high, with a bright purple flag flying over it.
As you got closer to the tent, you stopped occasionally to admire what the vendors had to offer. Necklaces made from strange stones, candles that had foreign scents, cloths with textures you had never felt before, all of it was so strange and so wonderful at the same time.
You noticed however, that many, no- most of the elves you talked with looked at you with a hint of sadness in their eyes. You didn't notice at first. It was probably because they felt sorry for you, or at least so you thought.
You hesitantly pushed open the covering to the entrance of the large tent. The room seemed to be completely transformed from what it had been last night. There were almost no people in there, the lanterns were gone, and so was the joyful
Five Kisses 18A Loki Story (Pre-Thor/Avengers).
A book and a bargain are just the beginning of Loki and Sigyn's relationship... LokixSigyn.
Chapter Eighteen: Finding Happiness
Sigyn stared into the full-length mirror in the room of the palace that she'd been given to prepare herself. She took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she looked at herself and thought about what she was doing. This is really happening. I'm getting married.
If she was truly honest with herself, she'd never seen this day coming. She was so different. And so... particular. Sigyn had never thought that anyone would accept her and she wasn't planning to compromise just to please someone else. But with Loki she didn't feel like she was compromising, and only after meeting him could she see the possibility of marriage being in her future.
Fili-Kili: Calm After the StormThe brothers were close. Anyone with half an eye could see that, and among the Company of Thorin Oakenshield, it was taken as a given fact. Fili and Kili had been inseparable for as long as anyone had known them, and even Thorin, who had practically raised his nephews, freely admitted that he had rarely seen them apart. The pair did everything together; along the road, from sparring to standing watch, Fili and Kili faced every moment by each other's sides.
Kili had, of course, known his brother since the moment he was born. Fili's was the first face he had seen when he opened his eyes, and since he had first learned to walk and talk, Kili had followed Fili wherever he went. For his part, Fili could barely remember a time when he had not had his brother attached to his side as a second shadow. Though he had been the leader of the pair in their early years, the balance of power had shifted out when Kili learned to fight and fend for himself. Since their tweens, the young dwarves had thou
Genghis Whenever we were bad my mother used to take us to the mall to see Genghis Kahn. They kept him in a dusty diorama of a Mongolian steppe, all tall grass and yurts. He sat on a throne of bone (well, plastic shaped like bone), scowling in incomprehension at the American kids who flocked around him like startled lemmings. My mother would usually push us toward him, saying things like “Tell him what you did to your father’s stamp collection.” Genghis would give a grunt, spit a wad of phlegm onto the tall grass, and give us a wizened, wrinkled grimace, as if he had to go to the bathroom.
He terrified me.
My brother couldn’t get enough of him.
When my brother got caught in my mother’s evening dress, my mother grabbed us both and dragged us to Genghis. It was a slow day, and we were the only kids crowding him. “Tell him what you did,” my mother hissed a
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