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{Chapter: 65 - Running Away?}
The entire day passed with Aiden and Sif cocooned in the quiet sanctuary of their shared space—just the two of them. No battles, no court politics, no urgent calls to arms. Just one woman and man, learning one another not through combat, but through conversation, laughter, and subtle glances.
They sat on plush cushions near the open balcony, the golden light of Asgard's sun casting a soft glow across the room. Aiden talked endlessly about Earth—about its bustling cities, strange customs, and oddly fascinating foods like pizza and chocolate milkshakes. He described skyscrapers that pierced the clouds and movies that told stories in glowing images on giant screens.
Sif listened, captivated. Her warrior's heart softened at the lively sparkle in Aiden's eyes as he spoke of his home. In turn, she shared tales of her childhood in Asgard—stories of her first sparring match, the time she and the Warriors Three tried to steal Thor's hammer just for fun, Loki mischiefs, wars she fought in, and even the ancient festivals that honored the All-Father. Her voice carried the weight of experience, but also a hint of nostalgia, of freedom before responsibility.
Despite their vastly different worlds, they laughed together, teased one another, and simply... existed. And yet, it was never dull. Not even for a moment.
Aiden prepared a meal, but it did not turn out to be of high quality. What surprised him even more was that her cooking skills were equally lacking.
Aiden couldn't help but admire her—the way she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, the quiet strength in her posture, the fierce pride in her words. Her beauty wasn't just in her striking armor or noble bearing. It was in her passion, her fire, her face, her figure.
"You know," he said casually, brushing his fingers lightly against the back of her hand, "I used to think no one could match the stars when it came to beauty. But you make them look like dull candlelight."
Sif blinked, then rolled her eyes, though a faint blush crept across her cheeks. "You should save those words for a bard. They'd be thrilled to add them to a song."
He grinned. "But they're not meant for a song. Just for you."
Though she tried to suppress it, the corner of her lips curved upward. Sif wasn't used to this kind of praise—it was different from the battlefield accolades. It was personal, intimate. And oddly enough, she didn't dislike it.
Aiden leaned back, his fingers lacing more securely with hers. "It's strange, isn't it? Just holding your hand makes me feel like I've accomplished something incredible."
"You are incredible," she replied softly before she realized what she had said. "I mean—your feats were impressive. Kurse, Malekith… not many can say they survived those encounters."
Aiden chuckled. "And yet, your compliment just made me feel ten feet tall."
Their fingers remained intertwined as the skies darkened outside. Sif found herself glancing at his face more often than she'd care to admit. His features were sharp but kind—brown eyes filled with mischief, short black hair that fell just right. He wasn't flawless, but something about the confidence in his tone, the spark in his eyes—it pulled her in like a gravity well.
Although things hadn't started off on the best foot, the awkwardness between them had melted away like ice under sunlight. They weren't lovers—at least, not yet—but the closeness had grown undeniably intimate. They sat with shoulders brushing, hands held tightly, voices low. The air between them was charged with unspoken tension and growing affection.
But all good things, it seemed, were destined to be tested.
"I've been meaning to tell you," Aiden said, his voice dropping slightly. "I need to leave."
Sif froze. The words hit her like a blade slipping between ribs. "You... want to leave?"
He nodded slowly, regret flickering across his face. "Not want. Have to. There's still so much waiting for me on Earth. Responsibilities. Promises I've made. I can't stay in Asgard forever."
"But… can't you stay just a little longer?" Her voice was quieter than usual. Vulnerable, even. "Just a few more days?"
Aiden looked into her eyes and saw the sincerity, the barely hidden ache. "I wish I could. Believe me, I do. But Malekith isn't done yet. And the longer I stay here, the more time he has to regroup. Next time, he might not just attack Asgard. He could target Midgard too."
Sif's jaw clenched. "You're going after him?"
"Yes," Aiden confirmed with a solemn nod. "I know where he's hiding. I can end this before he rises again."
"Then I'm going with you."
Aiden stared at her, surprised by her unwavering tone. "Sif, no. It's too dangerous. Besides, you said yourself—as a guardian of Asgard, you're bound here."
"Duties change," she said, rising to her feet, a warrior's resolve in her eyes. "I don't want you to go alone. And I don't want to just sit here waiting, wondering if you'll return."
He stood beside her, conflicted. "You'd risk everything for me?"
Sif looked away briefly, then met his gaze again. "You've risked more for Asgard than many born here. If you're willing to stand for us, I'll stand with you."
There was silence between them, heavy and meaningful. Finally, Aiden sighed and nodded. "Alright. We go together."
A small, genuine smile blossomed across her face. "Good. But the Gates of Asgard are sealed. Getting out won't be easy."
"I know a way," Aiden said with a mysterious glint in his eyes.
Sif arched an eyebrow. "Unless you're Loki in disguise, I doubt that."
He only laughed. "Let's just say I have my methods."
With no time to waste, Sif moved with the swiftness of a seasoned warrior. Her bare feet padded silently across the stone floor as she reached for her armor—pristine, divine, and unmistakably Asgardian.
She stepped into her form-fitted crimson battle corset first, the deep maroon leather embossed with silver filigree, hugging her torso like a second skin. The silver-lined chestplate snapped into place over it, molded perfectly to her curves while still reinforcing her upper body with durability. Ornate pauldrons clicked onto her shoulders—angled and elegant, flaring just enough to evoke both nobility and intimidation.
Sliding her toned legs into the matching tight leather leggings, she strapped on armored greaves that gleamed under the torchlight, each curve etched with ancient Asgardian runes. Her gauntlets followed next—polished silver, kissed with red accents, encasing her forearms and hands with graceful strength. Around her waist, she fastened a slim leather utility belt with a silver buckle, her sword sheathed and resting perfectly against her hip.
Her shield was slung over her back in one fluid motion, and she moved to the mirror to tie her thick, raven-black hair into a regal half-crown braid—her signature style, battle-ready yet feminine, a symbol of both royalty and readiness.
When she emerged from the bathroom, Aiden's breath caught in his throat.
Her armor clung to her like a lover's embrace—every inch both a masterpiece of warcraft and a celebration of her lithe, athletic figure. The way the metal and leather wrapped her frame was both commanding and intoxicating. She stood tall, confident, and glorious—like a goddess sculpted from divine steel.
Aiden's gaze lingered too long, tracing the proud rise of her chestplate, the exposed slivers of thigh between her armored skirt and boots, the lethal beauty in her eyes. He swallowed hard.
Sif saw it. She felt it.
And instead of outrage, she smiled—proud, knowing, fierce. Had anyone else dared to stare, she'd have shattered their jaw without a word. But Aiden? From him, it was different. From him… it felt like worship… the attention made her feel powerful. Desired. Proud.
After what felt like a long pause—thirty seconds, maybe a full minute—Aiden stood there, silently staring, arms folded, expression unreadable.
Sif arched a brow, unable to hold back the smirk tugging at her lips. With a teasing glint in her eyes, she finally broke the silence.
"Well, unless you plan to turn to stone standing there… don't we have a Dark Elf King to slay?"
Aiden blinked, then cracked a grin. "Right. Murder now, emotional confusion later."
She laughed softly, tossing her hair over her shoulder as she walked past him. "Try to keep up, mortal. And maybe try not to look so lovestruck next time."
Aiden was already in his armor and Sif had admitted he does look good in it.
Sif also grabbed another sword, They didn't speak —only exchanged the occasional glance, heavy with unspoken understanding.
Together, the two stepped outside her home—battle-bound, and banter-ready.
When they were out, Sif turned toward the stables. "We'll need transport. I'll see if we can—"
"No need." Aiden grinned. Without warning, he swept her up into a princess carry. Before she could protest, flames burst from beneath his feet, and the two of them rocketed skyward, soaring past the gleaming towers of Asgard into the star-kissed horizon.
"Wh-what are you doing!?" she shouted, gripping his shoulders instinctively.
"Saving time," he called back, laughing. "And besides... I like holding you like this."
Sif tried to glare at him but couldn't hide the smile tugging at her lips. "Idiot…"
And yet, she didn't ask him to put her down.
Sif's shriek pierced the air as Aiden shot upward into the sky, flames crackling beneath his feet. Her arms clung tightly around his neck, her eyes wide with a mix of fear and astonishment. The wind rushed past them like a roaring river, carrying them higher and faster than she ever imagined possible.
"Whaa!~" she cried out, her grip tightening as their speed increased.
Aiden couldn't help but laugh. Her reaction was priceless.
"Relax, we're almost there," he said, his voice calm and reassuring, like a seasoned skyfarer who had done this a hundred times before.
Asgard shrank beneath them, the golden towers and glimmering bridges fading into the distance. They cut through the clouds, and in a matter of moments, they descended toward a rugged mountain range cloaked in fog. Hidden in the shadow of a craggy cliff was a narrow crevice—easily missed unless you knew exactly where to look or using telekinesis constantly.
They landed at the mouth of the hidden passage, nestled between jagged stones. Aiden gently lowered Sif to the ground. Her cheeks were flushed, and she still looked flustered from the ride.
"Is this what they call eloping?" Aiden teased with a mischievous grin.
"I-I-I-It's not!" Sif stammered, her face burning scarlet. She looked away, trying to compose herself but failing miserably.
Aiden chuckled and extended his hand. A small flame ignited at his fingertips, casting warm light into the dark passage ahead. The narrow tunnel stretched endlessly forward, carved by some ancient force that bent the laws of nature. The air was cool and damp, and the walls were lined with strange runes that pulsed faintly.
"Come on. We don't have much time," Aiden said, leading the way.
The deeper they ventured, the more otherworldly the surroundings became. Eventually, the oppressive darkness gave way to a strange twilight—a soft, unnatural light that glowed from a distant point ahead.
"We're here," Aiden said softly, stopping at the edge of an open cavern. The air had changed. It felt heavier, more hostile.
Sif looked around in amazement. A horizon of strange dark sky loomed above, and hovering nearby was an enormous spaceship, its hull cloaked in an illusion so perfect it was practically invisible. Only the subtle ripple in space betrayed its presence.
"Malekith's ship is nearby," Aiden said. "It's cloaked, but we're close. Stay close to me—there will be dark elves patrolling."
Sif nodded solemnly. Though she couldn't see the ship clearly, she trusted Aiden's senses.
They advanced with caution. Then, without warning, Aiden stopped and took a deep breath. He could feel his telekinesis can't move forward more then five metres and what is in front of him can't be lifted thus he knew what it was.
"Break!" he shouted.
He drew his fist back and smashed it forward into seemingly empty air. A tremendous shockwave rang out, and a section of the cloaking field shimmered before shattering like glass.
Boom! Boom! Boom!
The concealed wall of the spaceship buckled and collapsed with a thunderous roar. A gaping hole was left in its place, revealing the inner chamber of the ship. Bright blue lights flashed within, illuminating sleek silver platforms and floating elevator-like pods zipping up and down.
The alarm blared in the ship, loud and piercing.
"They know we're here. Hold on!" Aiden scooped Sif into his arms and launched upward through the breach.
Energy blasts suddenly rained down around them. Dozens of dark elves appeared from the shadows, wielding pulse rifles and advanced weaponry. The air shimmered as bullets and beams were deflected by Aiden's telekinesis shield.
With a flick of his hand, he hurled a ball of blue-hot flame that exploded mid-air, incinerating the nearest group of attackers.
They landed on one of the upper platforms and began sprinting. More enemies poured in from side corridors, but none could stop them. Aiden's eyes glowed with raw energy. His telekinesis crushed foes mid-run; his flames reduced armor and flesh to ash.
"You're not leaving some for me?" Sif pouted, keeping stride beside him.
"Since I'm here, how can I let you get hurt?" Aiden replied with a smirk.
They raced through the labyrinthine corridors of the ship until they reached the central command chamber.
There, surrounded by a ring of heavily armed dark elves, was Malekith—hooked up to a suspended medical pod. He lay inside a transparent pod filled with glowing liquid, groaning in pain. Half of his face was charred, a grotesque mess of burned tissue and blackened bone.
He looked up and gasped in horror.
"Stop them!" he shrieked, panic overtaking him. The dark elves surged forward to protect their master.
Sif roared and charged ahead. She bashed the first elf aside with her golden shield, the impact launching him across the chamber. Her sword flashed with graceful violence as she cut down another enemy. Blood splattered across her armor, but her expression was calm and fierce—a true warrior goddess of Asgard. Which was quite the opposite of her mythology counterpart She was the goddess of wheat, fertility and family.
Then again here all Asgardians are like that. Lady Sif just embodies the storied Asgardian ideals of valor, strength, and wisdom.
Aiden paused for a moment to admire her. This was a different Sif than the one who blushed during their conversations, or held his hand shyly earlier. This was the unrelenting warrior spoken of in legends. The wild flame that could never be fully tamed.
He wondered silently—if he hadn't been the one to reach out to her… would she still have burned this brightly beside someone else?
He already knew the answer—and it was a resounding No, bold and in all caps. In this chaotic world mashed together from comics, the MCU, and the X-Men, she was simply overshadowed—buried beneath the weight of too many things, just like many others.
But he didn't linger on the thought for long.
Dark elves closed in from every direction. With a deep breath, Aiden raised both hands and unleashed a wave of fire that swept across the chamber. The temperature soared, and the enemies screamed as they were caught in the blaze. The walls trembled from the heat.
Sif fought at his side, graceful and deadly. Their rhythm was perfect—each watching the other's back, each moving in harmony. It was like watching a dance of destruction.
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