It was on the evening of Thor’s coronation, after fending off the Frost Giants and deciding to go against Odin’s order, that Sif found herself in Loki’s arms. She did not understand quite how it happened, the whole thing a blur in her mind. Perhaps it was the fact that they would all go to Jotunheim and fight the next day or the fact she was so tired of being alone. She didn’t know her reasons, and she definitely didn’t know his.

The two did not get along, mostly due to her loyalty to the older prince and Loki’s trickery. Regardless, she did find him attractive; she slept with him, after all, but she never dwelled on that. Because of the nature of their relationship, she left the next morning without a word or a note, fully intending to forget that this even happened.

When she saw him later that same day, it appeared that he had resolved to do the same. Neither broached the subject, and while a small part of her was disappointed, the majority of her mind was content with the way things were. Anything more between her and the God of Mischief would be foolish.

But there was to be more.

In the weeks following their little tryst, Sif had not been feeling well. She woke up most mornings a bit nauseous and light-headed. By late afternoon, she felt better, but found that certain smells and the taste of certain foods made her sick again. 

Sif hadn’t thought much of it until it started to disrupt her ability to train and spar. When Frandal made a snarky comment about being victorious in one match, she decided it was time she see a healer.

She hadn’t even thought of it, didn’t even try to link the two events together, but the healer revealed that her current condition was because of her one-night stand. Wanting to protect both herself and Loki, she simply told the healer that the father had died in battle. Of course, she was unmarried, so her child would be born a bastard no matter what she said or did; she would not marry for that reason alone.

She broke the news to Thor first, lying about the father and explaining that she would need some time away from fighting. Thor went to Odin about it, and luckily, Frigga, her queen, stepped in and defended her against his disappointment. It saved her from banishment, which she was grateful for; Asgard, she believed, would be the safest place for her child to be raised.

The pregnancy was tough, especially when it started to show. Rumors went around, as she expected they would, and she had to be careful about keeping Loki from finding out. Fortunately, he was too busy with his own agenda to be worried about her. 

She had the baby late spring, with the healer and, surprisingly, Frigga. He was a boy with Loki’s black hair and striking green eyes. She named him Nafi, and she was completely smitten with him. She never knew becoming a mother would change so much, but it did. And she loved it.

After a lengthy recovery period, Sif was back to training, and, eventually, participating in battle. The Warriors Three and Thor were good to her and her son, becoming the four best uncles a growing boy could have. So when she lost three of them during Ragnorok, she was beyond heartbroken. In a short period of time, she had loss her best friends and her home, and explaining everything, as well as why they were on a spaceship, to two-and-a-half-year-old Nafi was taxing.