Bad-Girl Blogfest

So, the Bad-Girl Blogfest.

Sif is the closest to bad that I come, and up until recently, I hadn't really understood exactly how twisted she was capable of being. I mean, I always knew she was jealous and vain, conceited and self-entitled. But are these the things from which bad-girls are made? Also I had never written anything, anything at all, from her PoV. I gotta admit, it was kind of fun. Be sure to follow the link above to check out the other participants of today's blogfest, hosted by Andrew at The WriteRunner!

Some Set-Up:
It's about 1910. The Norse gods have lost much of their influence. Many of them have left the world altogether, giving it up for a lost cause. Sif, unfortunately for everyone, is not one of those who decided to leave, and she's also got a massive grudge against Eve for a number of reasons, none of which are Eve's fault at all. Is this Canon for the rest of my books? I'm undecided. But I like it. 

Disclaimer: I have done no research on the 1900s as far as dress, manners and etc. go, for this blogfest.

"Mr. Newcastle?" Sif smiled and extended a gloved hand to the gentleman. If one could call him that. "It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, sir."

Frank Newcastle gave her a long look, his eyes sweeping from her face to her toes and back again. The dress of the times hid most of her body, but Sif had done everything she could to expose herself in the most attractive manner. As a result, Frank's gaze lingered on her breasts as he took her hand and raised it to his lips. 

"I'm sorry Miss, but I don't believe I've had the honor."

She let her face flush and ducked her head with false modesty. "Oh, of course, excuse my manners. My husband, Mr. Macnia speaks of you so often I felt as if we had already met."

"Of course, of course." Frank's smile was more leer than anything else, and Sif wondered for a moment what Lugh had told him about his supposed wife.

Not that it mattered. Sleeping with the man would bind him that much more tightly to her, and she was not as powerful as she had once been. If she'd had her old strength, she never would have needed Lugh's help for any of this, and Eve would have been driven to insanity years ago, if not dead. 

Poor Eve, she wouldn't know what she was getting into, marrying this man. Not until it was much too late. There had been a time, once, when Sif had not condoned physical abuse of any lesser creature outside of combat, but after millenia with Loki, and a few hundred years with Lugh, she was more than willing to make an exception for Eve. And dear Mr. Newcastle would be the perfect tool.

"I did so want to see you myself," Sif said, pretending innocence as she removed her gloves. "My cousin is very dear to me, you see, and I would not dream of letting her marry until I was sure that the man would treat her well." 

Sif raised her hand to her chest, toying with the gold chain that fell between her breasts. She looked up at him from beneath lowered eyelashes, letting her smile show a hint of suggestion. 

"You see, I want my cousin to be as fortunate as I have been," she dropped her voice, and Frank, fool man that he was, leaned forward. Sif traced a finger along his jaw and her eyes glowed golden, inserting the desired response in the man's mind. "In every way."

His gaze traveled up from her breasts to her face and he grinned, his hands dropping to his belt. It didn't take all that much encouragement. "I'd be happy to reassure you of my worth, Mrs. Macnia. In any way you desire."

She stepped closer, making him look her in the eyes for a moment longer, even while her hand went to the waist of his pants. His eyes were glazed with lust, and beneath it a certain violence that suited her purposes just perfectly. Some things about men would never change, no matter what year it was. The more civilized men thought themselves, the more brutality they were capable of.  

Sif could feel the roar of war, waiting to break against the shore of humanity. Lugh had promised her it would begin with that insufferable Archduke of Austria just as soon as they placed Eve into Mr. Newcastle's capable hands. Because if there was one thing that would drive Eve further into despair, it was war, and what better way to ensure war than to place her into a position where love was lost to her. If she could not love, humanity would be that much more easily swayed into action by the old gods. Perhaps some of mankind might even turn from Christianity, if the right pressures were applied and they believed themselves forsaken.

It was enough to make Sif tremble with anticipation for the power that might course through her once more. But first things first. Mr. Newcastle, dear Frank, must be made amenable.

Sif raised an eyebrow, biting her lower lip and assuming the most provocative expression in her repertoire. "I think I'll just need a demonstration, if you don't mind. For my cousin's sake, of course."

And there you have it. My bad-girl. I might be out of my element, but I'm not sure that Sif ever is.