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Sif wipes a line of sweat from her brow with the padded base of her practice armor. She focuses on the dorm punching bag and lifts her sword with shaking arms. “One more time,” she mutters to herself.
She stabs at the bag, the slashes to the side, then twists with her wrist to-
The flat of her blade smacks the bag.
“Oskilgetinn! ” Sif curses. She takes a few deep breaths, then slowly returns to the ready position.
“You know, it works better with a spear.”
Sif spins around, nearly tripping over her exhausted feet. “Brunnhilde! I didn’t hear you approach.”
The last of the Valkyrie smiles at Sif as she leans against the wall of the dorm. “That was by design. Black Widow challenged me to a sneaking competition on the morrow, and I’ve been practicing. Can’t let these Midgardians show us up, can we?”
“Verily,” Sif agrees. Her sword has dipped until the tip is nearly pointed at the ground. It’s simply too much effort to keep it raised.
“You were trying to copy the attack I use on the mechanical opponents, were you not?” Brunnhilde asks.
“Yes,” Sif admits. “You make it look simple, but it is more difficult to put together than I perceived.”
“You honor me by trying.”
Sif’s cheeks burn and she shoves her sword in its sheath. “It’s time to sup,” she says briskly.
Brunnhilde catches Sif’s hand as she walks toward the stairwell. “Lady Sif. Lady Thor tells me you are one of few woman warriors in Asgard at this time.”
“‘Tis true,” Sif replies, glancing to the side. The dorm isn’t very far off the ground. She could make the leap and escape this embarrassing conversation. But would it be more humiliating to run away from her failure?
“In the days gone by, when I trained with my shield-sisters,” Brunnhilde begins, and Sif looks back to her in shock. It is known that the warrior never speaks of the other Valkyrie. “We helped each other. Thor tells me that you fight with him and with the Warriors Three, but you often train alone.”
“When one of them makes a mistake, it is because they are learning. When I make a mistake, it is because I am not good enough,” Sif says quietly. “So, I train alone, and I make no mistakes when others are watching.”
“I’m sorry that so much has changed since my sisters and I last fought. But… you don’t need to practice alone now. I have returned from Sakaar, and I am in need of a new partner. I think you and I would make a good match.” Brunnhilde tightens her hold on Sif’s hand so she cannot mistake the Valkyrie’s meaning.
Sif blushes again, but she tries to be realistic. “You’ve not come back to Asgard before. What’s to stop you from searching out a new world?”
“I left Asgard when my order was vanquished. But here, at this Academy, I have found Angela and America and Thor to bring the Valkyrie back to life. And you. Lady Sif, your spirit is as strong and bright as all the women I loved before the war. And now that I’ve found you… I don’t feel alone anymore.” She weaves their fingers together and Sif squeezes back. “Will you give me a chance to show you what it can be like, having a shield-sister?”
Sif realizes she’s been staring at the warrior’s long fingers, and instead looks into her startling blue eyes. “I think I’d like that,” she says.
Those blue eyes twinkle as Brunnhilde steps closer. “Tonight, will you allow me to make you a dish I picked up during the conquest of Vanaheim?”
“Where will you prepare it? There is no roasting pit on campus- I asked.”
“When I told the All-Mother of my intention to court you, she offered the use of the palace’s kitchens in Asgard so I could make you a proper feast,” Brunnhilde replies. She leans even closer, so Sif can smell the hint of Valkyrie magic that lingers around her, hints of old incense and war. She shivers.
“I can think of nothing better,” she accepts.
“Good,” Brunnhilde whispers. Then, she grins, wide and mischievous. “And tomorrow, we’ll take to the Gauntlet, and I can show you how to use that sword properly!”
Sif grabs the handle of her sword, intent on proving herself against that insult, but Brunnhilde takes a leap off the roof, flipping in the air, and lands in a dead sprint for the Bifrost.
Sif lets out a warcry and chases after her.