Owner	Pose
Balder	Elder Days. Before the days of galavanting across Midgard, before the days of fighting through dark gods and death cults and giant ouroborus snakes, Balder was simply one to indulge in the beauty of nature. Sure, he would fight and carry the Allfather's banner wherever he was sent...but that was not his chiefest desire like most other Asgardians. Instead, Balder preferred a good warm hearth where he could simply lie in the sun. Bask in the warmth he wished he received from others. Playing second fiddle to Thor AND Loki was a fate that one should not wish on anybody, and often times Balder found himself alone. Today is one of those days. His friends were off galavanting somewhere, and Balder remained on Asgard in the palace. He was reading a book. Happy, but missing his family and friends as anyone does when...well, they're left out. Perks of (not) being the favorite child.
Sif	The boots are what first give it away. Solid. Non-nonsense. Striking the floor tiles like hammers with the regularity of dwarven smiths forging a new axe. The beat didn't change, though the noise did when the boots started on the carpet. Soon the doorway was filled with an all-too-familiar shadow, skylighting against the brightness outdoors, leaving Sif looking like she belonged in puppet theatre as eyes adjusted to the light difference. That adjustment revealed her disapproving face. "Prince Balder," she says. "You're moping around the palace again. Why are you not out hunting? There's a boar culling in need and I would have expected you there." She steps inside the lounge Balder inhabited for the nonce, quickly scanning the room to ensure there were no witnesses. "What's wrong, Balder?" she asks, more informal than is proper given their difference in station, but much as it always had been in private with her royal friends for her life.
Balder	Balder looks upon Sif for a moment, apparently largely unprepared for her presence! He seems to look at his book, then back to Sif, then back to his book. His cheeks had flared a bright red, like a nerd who had his crush talk to him for the first time in awhile, but he stifles it down and manages to put his book aside. "Lady Sif." He greets her simply enough, though when she calls him mopey, Balder shakes his head. "Reading, Sif. Reading." Balder almost says in a way that's pleading with her, but as she asks him why he's not out hunting, Balder looks back to his book. "The boars have done nothing to us aside from be food, and we are not in need of more." Balder suggests to Sif, having a bit more care towards the animals...its hard to avoid caring when you can have a conversation with some of them. They're sparkling conversationalists! "So...so much." He shakes his head. He neglects to tell her exactly -what- is wrong. "I just wish I was more useful to my father."
Sif	"Forgive me the accusation, Highness, but you are lying to me." Sif, in her own way, has a technique for slicing straight through defenses to strike at the matter at hand. "And you are trying to misdirect." She gives a tight smile. "Your elder brother is better at that." Stepping further in she stands by a seat, waiting to be granted permission to sit. "Though if your reason for moping is anything at all like what you just said, it probably is best that you don't tell me. I might laugh." Then a ghost of a smile appears. "You bring light and joy to your father and mother both. It is not to your detriment that you are third. Your brothers accomplish more than you, that is true, of the things the Allfather values in the here and now, but this will not always be so. They have much time beyond yours. Of course they will accomplish more!" The savage arm gesture, reminiscent of the kind she would use to snap bone, dismisses the notion once and for all. "You are more sensitive and well-read than your eldest, and more honest and heartfelt than your elder brother. And you have not had the time to find your place in their shadow. It will happen. Trust in yourself." There's a slight pause. "You should come to the mess sometime, Balder. See how beloved you really are."
Balder	Sensitive, heartfelt, compassionate: qualities not found in most warriors. Asgardians are meant to be heroes in their owns stories, tales gathered throughout life to speak them in Valhalla. Balder has accomplished nothing compared to both of his brothers. Even Loki has told a silver-tongued lie or two to save the day, and Thor? Well...Thor had Mjolnir. That was all he needed. All Balder had was a heart. He gestures with his hand silently to her to grant permission to sit. He puts a simple raven's feather in his book and closes it. His eyes shift then more fully to Sif. "A liar I have never been...I don't have the confidence for it." Balder suggests. Sif attempts to encourage Balder by saying he's a light and a joy whose time has simply not yet come. "...my death brings Ragnarok. I'm a burden, Sif. Odin will not send me to where I feel as if I am needed because I might die...so he sends me on lesser quests." He frowns then. "I wish to speak with him about it but..he might not listen to me." Odin rarely listened to anybody but Odin. Occasionally Freyja/Frigg, but...well, even those moments were rare indeed. The talk of the mess makes Balder smirk. "You know...I was accused of treason for abandoning a battle? Frost giants. I saw a wounded animal in the field and left active combat to return it to it's home. As punishment, Odin granted warriors permission to throw their spears at me. I'm called brave because I didn't fear death or injury." He didn't flinch, the story is well known. "...yet I sit in a palace, across the one groomed to be a warrior of warriors...and all I do is help animals." He sighs. "I can go the distance. I just want the chance."
Sif	"I threw one of the spears." Sif's voice is deadpan, but her face is amused. "But the Allfather is not prone to taking the counsel of others, that is true. It is fortunate for Asgard that he rarely needs it." Walking that narrow tightrope between loyalty to friend and loyalty to sovereign. "You do not need to be Thor, Balder," she says, her voice warming. "You do not have to be me. You need to be comfortable with you. What the Norn decree is what you become, no matter how hard you fight it." What this says about Odin and his protection of Balder is left delicately unspoken. "Look on me. You say 'groomed to be warrior of warriors'. Do you forget so soon Sif of the Golden Tresses? Sif the future bride of Thor? Sif the courtly brat?" She snorts. "I was no more groomed to be a warrior than you were groomed to be a herdsman." A polite little dig there at rescuing animals. "I was fated to be one. I did not choose this life any more than I chose this hair. It was imposed upon me because I was a mewling brat whose vapidity her parents grew weary of." She stares into the distance: time and space both. She is as prone to this as Heimdal was in his youth. "It was hard work. Growing up. Learning. Being accepted. And it didn't happen until I embraced what the Norns wove for me." Her gaze snaps back to the here and now. "You have more than one fate. The Norns have woven an entire life with your thread. Let it unfold."
Balder	"I recall." Balder tells Sif then as he seems to rest his elbows on his knees, and a hand to prop up his chin. Balder needed a talk-tup and Sif, strangely, seems to be the one to do it. "Then why does it feel like I need to be?" He can't be Loki. Loki's something of the black sheep. Thor's the hero and the legend, the favorite and the 'first'. Odin needs something done, he asks Thor first...unless Thor's busy, then he asks Loki. If both of them are busy? He just asks Sif. Sif's busy? Warrior's Three. If the Warrior's three are busy?..you get the idea. He takes a deep breath then. "I remember your golden hairs, yes. You followed what the nornir wove for you in their tapestry, I understand, even from humble beginnings. Yet you had a bright future for you the moment you were born." Balder hums a bit as he looks at the floor. "I was born in a shadow...I don't want to be better than them. I just want to be their equal." Words echoed by others in their time. But he sighs ever so slightly. "I just need to find mine is all...even if it takes me a thousand years." Balder and Olympian Hercules would get along great. They just want to prove to everyone that they're not the burden, they're a hero like the rest. "..if it helps you feel any better, the black hair suits you better." Balder suggests to her. He sighs. "I will speak with my father."
Sif	"So I've been told many a time," Sif says with a chuckle, relaxing a little as it seems her message is getting through a little. "I've become used to it, I must confess. It is a uniquely black mane. None have this ... void-like feel as does mine. I've long since forgiven Loki his little ill-tempered jape." She closes her eyes. "He was but the instrument of the Norn, much as he would prefer not to know this." The blue eyes reopen and focus on Balder. "When you speak with the Allfather, use your diplomacy to ask in a tactful way if he genuinely believes that he can thwart the skein of the Norn by coddling. Because if the Norn decree, it happens and struggling against it is often what causes it to happen. I know not how to say this without sounding brusque and disrespectful, but your golden tongue and shining disposition will find the way." Then she adds, a hint of mercy in her stern demeanour?, "Remember too that I do not call you their lesser, and I have struck down those who said it in my presence. Not all of us, not even the so-called Goddess of War, judges solely by feats of conflict."
Balder	At least a little bit. No other woman than Sif has pure black hair like she does. Whether it is a creation or not, it's still quite the mane. "You are more patient and forgiving than most. Many would've made sure Loki paid in equal fashion." He suggests to her with a soft smile, one that is rarely seen by others. "I am a talker, it's true. I would rather hug someone, heal them of their pain than raise a sword against them. The Allfather is...a different beast altogether." Balder didn't fear Odin, but he loved his father and constantly sought his approval. "Fate is what it is...maybe I will be lucky. Maybe Odin, in all of his wisdom, will hear me." and pray that pride doesn't hold everybody back. A bit of mercy in Sif's demeanor earns a bit of a gaze from Balder, as if he were surprised. Especially from Sif, that's a tall observation. His cheeks turn a bit red, and he looks away from her. "I-I just..think sometimes talking will win us the day." He inherited wisdom from his father. Though maybe too much of his mother's compassion. Together, its a powerful spirit. "...thank you, Sif, for talking with me. I know you didn't have to."
Sif	"Of course I did," Sif says with her now-characteristic directness. "When a friend hurts, it takes a special breed of coward to eschew help." She puts on a mock-angered face, eyes dancing. "You call me a coward!?" Then she laughs and for a moment, just a moment, it's the laugh of the long-lost, golden-haired Sif. Sif, the Fairest of the Fair. Carefree Sif. Sif the Compassionate. So far removed from Sif the Unbeatable. Implacable Sif. The Goddess of War. "You have been my friend before I was a warrior, Balder. You remain this now. I will always be there when you need my strong arm helping."
Balder	Balder smiles warmly to Sif. He always appreciated how blunt and direct she was, never one to appreciate the 'poetry of conversation' as he likes to call it and just choose the quickest route to the point. When she seems to mock-angry at him, Balder couldn't help but chuckle. He didn't fear Sif, and he tended to laugh anyway when she was -genuinely- angry. It's because he thought she was cute the way she scrunched up her nose- She's Thor's betrothed Balder...that means hands off. For both of their sakes. Balder's laugh seems to slowly silence itself though, but hearing her laugh made his heart beat like it never did before. There was no one else in all Asgard. Despite her situation, the first and last thought he ever has when talking with Sif is just two words: 'See me.' But perhaps it's not meant to be. Balder smiles at her then. "Likewise, Sif. I'll always be there if you need encouragement, or an extra arm, or a torch." A pun on himself referring to his power over light.
Sif	And that, of course, is Sif's weakness. She can't show weakness. Balder knows from experience that she will never ask for help. Never admit that she is overwhelmed by circumstance. Never confess to weakness. She stands up, approaching Balder to give his shoulder a squeeze. "Of course I will," she lies. Though is it really a lie if only deep down in the thoughts you don't dare acknowledge is it known to be untrue? "That's what friends are for." She pauses, smiling down at Balder before, with that same precise gait, the same dug-in heels as she walks, departing the room for her own mysterious errands.