Baldur Odinson:The light of Asgard

Chapter 7: A Warrior's Night

The halls of Asgard echoed with laughter and the clinking of metal as Baldur followed his brother into the armory, where Sif and the Warriors Three were already gathered.

"Finally, you're here," Sif said, rolling her eyes as she tightened the leather straps of her gauntlets. "I was beginning to think you were going to let Thor go into battle without you."

Baldur smirked. "And miss the chance to show off? Never."

Thor clapped him on the back, nearly knocking the wind out of him. "That is the spirit, brother! Tonight, we ride for adventure!"

Volstagg grinned, his broad form nearly blocking the doorway. "And a great feast when we return!"

"Only if we survive," Fandral added, sheathing his rapier with a dramatic flourish. "But since I'm here, that is guaranteed."

"Do you ever stop talking?" Hogun muttered, arms crossed.

Baldur chuckled, adjusting the golden bracers on his forearms. "Alright, what exactly are we dealing with?"

"A band of frost trolls," Sif explained, her gaze sharp. "They've been attacking settlements at the edge of Vanaheim. Odin wants them dealt with before they become a real problem."

Thor grinned, spinning Mjolnir in his hand. "Then let us deal with them swiftly!"

Baldur arched an eyebrow at Sif. "Are we sure this isn't just Thor making up an excuse to hit something?"

Sif smirked. "Probably. But at least we get to have some fun."

Baldur returned her smirk, his gaze lingering for a moment longer than necessary. "Ah, so you do have a fun side."

Sif scoffed but didn't look away. "Keep up, Baldur, and maybe you'll see just how much fun I can be."

Baldur felt a stir of interest at the challenge in her tone, but before he could respond, Thor grabbed him by the arm.

"Enough talk! To battle!"

And with that, they stepped through the Bifrost, the rainbow light swallowing them whole.

The battle was fierce but exhilarating.

The frost trolls were massive, standing nearly twice the height of an Asgardian, their bodies covered in thick, icy hide. They roared as the warriors of Asgard descended upon them, their breath freezing the air itself.

Baldur moved like a streak of golden lightning, his hard-light weapons forming in his hands as he danced between the creatures. He dodged a massive clawed hand, pivoted mid-air, and drove a glowing spear into the troll's shoulder.

Beside him, Sif fought with deadly precision, her sword carving through frost and flesh alike. She moved with the fluid grace of a true warrior, each strike efficient, calculated, lethal.

At one point, she and Baldur ended up back-to-back, surrounded by two trolls that towered over them.

"Fancy meeting you here," Baldur teased, summoning two golden daggers into his hands.

Sif snorted. "Less talking, more fighting."

The first troll swung a massive arm at them. Sif ducked, and Baldur blinked into light, reappearing above the creature's head. He drove his daggers into its skull, flipping off as it collapsed to the ground.

Sif, meanwhile, lunged low, slicing her sword through the legs of the second troll before finishing it with a clean upward strike.

As the creature fell, Baldur landed beside her, panting slightly. "Alright, that was impressive."

Sif smirked, wiping sweat from her brow. "I could say the same."

Baldur grinned, stepping closer. "Are you finally admitting that I'm more than just a pretty face?"

Sif gave him a once-over, her gaze lingering for just a moment before she scoffed. "We'll see."

The battle ended shortly after, with Thor delivering the final blow, Mjolnir crashing down like the wrath of the gods.

As the dust settled, the Warriors Three gathered, Volstagg already talking about the feast awaiting them back in Asgard.

But Baldur wasn't thinking about the feast.

He was thinking about Sif.

Later that night, after the celebrations, Baldur found himself wandering through the palace, his body still thrumming with the energy of battle.

He had always loved this feeling—the aftermath of a fight, the rush still lingering in his veins. But tonight, something felt… different.

Or rather, someone.

"Couldn't sleep?"

He turned to see Sif standing in the hallway, still in her armor, her hair slightly disheveled from the night's festivities.

Baldur smirked. "Didn't feel like celebrating?"

Sif leaned against the wall, her expression unreadable. "Sometimes, after a battle, I need something quieter than a feast."

Baldur stepped closer, his voice lowering slightly. "I know what you mean."

There was a pause, a quiet tension between them that hadn't been there before.

Sif's eyes flickered over him, assessing, considering. Then, with the smallest hint of a smirk, she tilted her head toward her chamber door.

"Are you coming in, or are you just going to stand there?"

Baldur's grin widened. "You don't have to ask twice."

He followed her inside, the door closing behind them.

The moment they were alone, the air between them shifted.

There was no hesitation when Sif pulled him toward her, no second-guessing when their lips met in a slow, heated kiss.

Baldur slid his hands to her waist, pulling her flush against him, the warmth of her body a sharp contrast to the cold of the battle they had fought earlier.

Sif was not gentle.

She kissed him like she fought—with fierce determination, her hands gripping his shoulders as she pushed him toward the bed.

Baldur let her, grinning against her lips. "You always this aggressive?"

"Shut up," she muttered before kissing him again.

He laughed but complied, lifting her effortlessly, laying her down against the soft sheets.

Her armor had already been loosened, and it was easy to undo the rest. He ran his hands along her bare skin, marveling at the contrast between her strength and softness.

Sif pulled him down, their bodies molding together, heat coiling between them like a slow-burning fire.

They moved together, the night stretching on, until exhaustion finally claimed them both.

As Baldur lay beside her, her body pressed against his, the scent of battle and warmth still lingering, he couldn't help but grin.

"Well," he murmured, trailing his fingers down her spine. "That was definitely more fun than a feast."

Sif scoffed but didn't move away. "You talk too much."

Baldur chuckled, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. "You like it."

She didn't reply, but when she relaxed against him, he knew he was right.

Tomorrow, they would go back to training, to fighting, to their roles as warriors of Asgard.

But for tonight?

Tonight, Baldur had no complaints.