R E T U R N
Ellisif had been gone for a very, very long time. However, just because she had been gone didn't mean that she didn't still know what was going on - most of the time, anyways. Living in Guangzhou made it difficult to keep up with current events where her brother was concerned, especially given his military activities and how hard they had been for her to access. She had to accept that some things she couldn't know about from the distance. So, of course, imagine her surprise when she got word that her brother had been
blinded. She could get no details, only that it had occurred, and that he was currently living in New York somewhere.
Needless to say, Sif packed her bags and vacated the tiny apartment she lived in within a few days of that notification. She resisted the urge to reach out to Odin as she traveled, hesitant almost. The work she did wasn't
good by any means, and of course, he'd ask her what she'd been doing. How could she tell him that she used her ability to blackmail people into ensuring she had a comfortable lifestyle
away from Iceland?
At least he can't see my hair, she thought to herself on the plane, accepting a cocktail that was offered to her in the dark of the cabin. She'd bleached her natural dark hair only a year or so ago, and she'd decided to keep it that way for a while. It gave a sort of trashy look that she enjoyed, and it often meant that people underestimated how smart she was.
And Sif was
very smart.
So smart, in fact, that she'd managed to find out where Odin was staying. Not the exact apartment, but the building - and that was good enough. She got a hotel room for the night, not wanting to appear on his doorstep jetlagged and still on China time. She needed to sleep - and prior to that, a nightcap. Once her bags had been sent to her room and she'd changed from her sensible business attire to slightly more relaxed clothing, she went down to the bar area in the hotel, surprised to see that it was fairly populated for late evening on a Wednesday night.
She sat down towards the middle, finding it cliche to take an end - and besides, each end had already been occupied by some breed of brooding man, looking pensively down at a glass of dark liquor and simply
begging for someone to ask them what their problem was so they could sell some sob story.
Man, America hasn't changed at all, she mused, stirring the ice in her Midori sour. She took a small sip, sucking the sweet melon flavor off of an ice cube she'd caught in her mouth, and tried to observe more around her without looking too obvious.
A blonde was seated at a table with an older man, and Sif could tell just by the energy around him that he was
something special. They talked, about what she didn't know, but she could see the woman grow frustrated more and more by what he said. She looked back to her glass as a slim man came to escort her out, with the old man shrugging and finishing his drink as though this was a daily occurrence.
After about twenty minutes, most of the bar had emptied out finally, leaving her alone in the center of the bar still, and couple off to her left speaking quietly. The man seemed familiar somehow; had she seen him in Asia? He had dark hair, and an even
darker feel to him, despite his polite mannerisms, and almost flirtatious glances at the woman he was with. Was it a rule that everyone in the bar had to be stunning, somehow? Sif took that as her cue and drank the rest of her drink, setting it on the mat at the well on her path out. Weird place.
The next day, she decided not to check out, instead extending for another day - there was a chance, of course, that Odin wouldn't want to see her, but she doubted it. As mad as he'd be, he'd get over it.
Sif was the grudge-bearer in their family, not him. As she walked through the apartment building, she removed a glove, brushing this or that, attempting to "find" him with her power. She got off on the wrong floor a few times, surprised finally to follow the little hints she got to the top floor. There were only a few penthouse apartments up here - had he come into money? She had sent him money when he was younger; wired it into a bank account their parents didn't know about so that he would have money to escape, but when he joined the military she hadn't considered what he'd done with it. Maybe he'd saved up a nice little nest egg. She couldn't even guess how much she'd sent; she always sent a large cut of what she'd made for her jobs - and she charged far above market value. Sif knew her worth, and she was well versed in public relations and international laws, what with all the time she had on her hands to read and take online courses.
She walked down the hall slowly, arm extended, two fingers brushing over the doors as she passed, trying to figure out which one was his. One door in particular gave her a
jolt and she drew her arm back quickly, fingers curling into a fist.
Fucking fae, she thought, rolling her eyes. Still, she could see the image of Odin walking into the door, a girl at his side.
So he likes redheads, huh?. She smirked a little. Odin was all grown up, of course - she'd have to accept that he was and had been independent of their family for just under as long as she had. Still, it would be a little surprising if he was shacked up with said redhead, seeing as how she was a fae. Sif had done enough work to develop
opinions about them and their strange blue and orange morality.
She continued walking, and finally found the apartment she was fairly certain was his. She knocked on the door, taking a moment to smooth her shirt down and push her hair behind her ear. She fully expected Odin to answer it, of course, so when someone else did, she couldn't help but look a little stunned.
"Hi," he said. He was
tall, and large -
wolf, she wagered. Still, his face was kind, and his eyes had a warmth to them that reminded Sif of her brother.
"I'm sorry," she said, her voice clear and with no discernible accent. "I think I have the wrong door. I was looking for Odin?" She gave him her best smile, which lit up her pretty face quite nicely.
That's it, she urged.
Just tell me where I need to go, Chewy.
The man raised his brows, tilting his head. "Oh - Odin?" he repeated, sounding genuinely surprised. "No you're in the right place, he just didn't tell me he was expecting anyone. Please, though, come in," he offered, opening the door wider for her. As she entered, he turned his head, calling Odin from somewhere in the large apartment that Sif couldn't see.
She shrugged her coat off absently, almost automatically, handing it to the man who held a hand out for it, and ignoring him as he went to put it somewhere. This place was
huge. Perhaps she'd grown too used to her tiny apartments in various cities in Asia to really appreciate the space that could be had with good real estate - it almost seemed
too big. Still, he'd done well with decorating. It appeared lived in, at least - a few touches to the kitchen counter, the kitchen table, and then the back of the couch told her that this apartment was frequented by friends, and the energy among them was good - and strong.
"Hey, Shaun - you said someone was here for me?" Odin asked, coming from the darkness of a hallway. He had his hand on the edge of the wall, preparing to count steps in his head to where the couch was. "Can I help you?" he asked. It was still apparent he had no idea who she was.
Sif smiled. "Hæ, litli bróðir," she said, switching quickly to their mother tongue. "Saknaðir þú mÃn?"
Hey, little brother. Did you miss me? Hopefully he still knew how to speak it.