"Really. Is it too much to ask for a little variety?" The guard's retreating back was his only answer. Loki stared at the tray of food he held in his hands. Brown, globular, and decidedly not steaming. He set the tray down on the table and eyed it with suspicion. In his new life, if one could call it that, this was a serious matter. The daily delivery of what one could tentatively call sustenance was the main event of the daily goings on in Asgard's prison system. He stalked back and forth, hands folded behind his back, eyes never leaving the tray. Deliberating whether he would eat another cold stew, or take his chances and hope tomorrow's dish was more palatable.
His stomach growled. Loki's lips twitched in an annoyed scowl. It seemed the stew would win this round.
Spooning the gelatinous fare reluctantly into his mouth, Loki stared moodily at the cells across from him, reflecting on his circumstance. He had impersonated Odin and released his brother to live a happy life of insignificance on Midgard, placed himself as ruling monarch in his father's absence. . .and been summarily caught. Now apparently the prison cook was angry with him. Nobody appreciated a little bit of wit in this barbaric hell hole, and ambition was downright frowned upon. Intelligence and cunning were regarded as inferior qualities relied upon by those who lacked strength and passion. Perhaps they were right to think so. It all made sense now. No true Aesir could be as reserved, as dispassionate, as cold as Loki Laufeyson. It wasn't in their nature.
"My decision is made," Odin had said. "Until called upon, you will return to prison to fulfil your sentence for crimes against the nine realms."
Loki's face twisted at the memory and he threw the now empty tray furiously across the room, before sliding elegantly to the ground, his head resting against the wall with a thud. There was nothing to do here but brood on the past, nothing else to think on, since he had no future. He was of no use and no significance, forgotten, trapped, damned to nothingness, all the while the greatest liar and murderer roamed free. Sat on the bloody throne. That conniving hypocrite who was father to all of Asgard except him.
The stab of this knowledge had faded with time, but still burned and boiled in his chest whenever he looked upon it. The injustice, the logical incongruity, the deceit of having one's entire life turn out to be nothing but a farce designed to bring about a political alliance. And somehow everyone was okay with this.
Loki calmed his breathing and directed his thoughts elsewhere, feeling his mood begin to shift in that practiced way he had cultivated over the years. Of course there were benefits to his circumstance. The peculiar blend of magic he possessed, the cunning, the knowledge. Now that Frigga was dead there was no being in the universe who considered his existence worthwhile, certainly none he considered worthwhile (a picture of Thor flashed through his mind but he squelched it easily). He still had his talents. All he needed was an opportunity. He needed out. If cold ambition somehow seemed bleak and lonely to him now that the rage was fading, he would just have to push that to the side. The fact of the matter was it was all he had, and he no longer courted the notion of suicide.
Loki closed his eyes, hoping that sleep would pass more than a few hours this time, regretting the nature of eternity. Hoping something would change.
Jane was legitimately irritated by anything that took her away from her work, but being angry at Thor was like being angry at a labrador puppy. Difficult, pointless. Even when she knew her irritation was entirely valid she always felt like a jerk for telling him so. Especially when they weren't at the lab and she really should have left her notebook at home. Her eyes softened as she looked up at the tall, beautiful warrior before her. They were different as night and day, but then that was part of what drew them together. She placed a hand on his forearm. "Thor, you can't just distract me every time I need to write something down. These thoughts are important to me. Let me get it out, then I promise I'll pay attention to you."
"It is the right of every man to distract the lady he loves, and even more so it is mine," he said, leaning close to her with hooded eyes. Unfortunately for him the allure of science was greater than the allure of bedroom eyes and Jane shook her head, using her free hand to push against his chest.
"I really want to get this down," she said, looking back down to her work. Her chin was lifted gently by a strong, calloused hand. Seeing the adorably pouty look on his face, her shoulders sagged in resignation. "Ah." She fought down her blush as he reached down and pulled her in for a kiss. Well, Darcy would be proud. Her biggest problem in life hadn't always been the distraction of a ridiculous gorgeous god who somehow fell in love with her and felt honor-bound to smother her in sultry kisses.
Then the pain returned.
It wasn't a complete surprise. She'd felt the hot, dark power simmering below the surface off and on over the past months, and more and more often it was accompanied by a feeling like razors sliding through her tendons. Jane let out a muffled cry and pushed Thor away. He backed up in alarm, his brow furrowing in tender concern. Jane clutched her hands to her chest and grit her teeth, trying not to scream.
"No, not again!" Thor said. A dark shadow passed over his features as she slowly began to double over, panting. "Jane, what is it? Jane. I know something has bothered you much of late. Do you require a healer? Tell me the truth."
Jane let out a startled cry as a thousand knives of smouldering heat assailed her. She fell to the ground, and screamed.
"Oh look, sleeping beauty awakes." The quick male voice seemed to come from a great distance to Jane, who blinked her eyes slowly. It was never good to wake up to a room with white walls and her first response was definitely panic.
"Jane!" Thor's head came into view, blocking out all else, his deep blue eyes swimming with concern. His hand cupped her cheek. "Jane, are you alright?" She stared up at him, trying to remember the last thing that had happened.
"Your Royal Pain-in-the-Highness? You're kind of obstructing my view." Annoyed, Thor straightened and levelled a glare at Tony Stark, who clapped his hands together. "Perfect," he said, and approached Jane with swift strides, pushing buttons on a machine next to her and swiftly glancing through various screens of data. It was Tony Stark. Tony Stark was standing next to her, like he was her own personal bedside nurse. Great God in heaven. "So, hot stuff, what's the weather like in there? Balmy, chilly? Volcanic, perhaps?"
Jane turned to Thor, who stood a short distance away. "What happened?" she asked.
Thor moved to speak, but Stark cut him off. "That's where I come in, you little fireball, you. You've been holding out on us! Kinda rude, saving all the fireworks action for after the party. Picked up a massive energy anomaly and had to check it out. Imagine my surprise to find you and thunder brain in an ash heap." A door slid open and Nick Fury walked in. "These guys were surprised too."
"Miss Foster," Fury said in calm, level tones. "I trust you are well."
The cycloptic dictator himself. She wanted nothing more than to keep herself, her friends, and her work off this man's radar and now he had her in a lab like a rat. Great. Perfect. Jane couldn't take any more of this. She pushed herself to a sitting position. "What is going on? What happened to me?"
"Jane," Thor said, "Your body is weak, showing signs of great stress from the aether you carried."
"Stress isn't how I'd put it," Stark said, waving a thin glass instrument a few inches over Jane's torso. He watched the monitors carefully.
"The aether?" she asked, eyes wide. That didn't sound good. Jane ran through a list of mental possibilities. She had hoped that the pain she'd been experiencing was nothing more than muscle spasms, but deep down she knew better. Ever since she'd left Asgard, the episodes of fiery, searing heat and pain got more and more frequent. For all her curiosity, she wasn't sure she wanted to know what it meant. Kinda figured she might be dying. She cleared her throat. Thor rushed to bring a straw to her lips. She took a sip, and smiled at him in thanks. It felt strained. "Whatever is going on with me, just. . .please tell me you aren't going to lock me up."
Fury raised his brow. "That depends entirely on you, Miss Foster." He began to pace around her bed. "Your little episode yesterday took out an entire cafe patio, three cars, and two trees."
Jane's heart stopped. "We were the only ones there, right?"
"It was not a busy day," Fury acknowledged. "Thankfully. We can not however allow that kind of power to roam around unchecked."
"Potentially worse than Banner," Stark added. "Impressive. Wanna give me some?"
"Don't keep me here," she said, sitting up in a panic. Tubes and needles pulled against the skin of her arm. She felt the room grow warm. "I've got a great project I'm working on, I'm happy, I have Thor here, everything is fine. I'm doing great. Whatever that was...just..." Jane's eyes met Stark's level stare, "...give it to him! It'll be great." She smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Take it away, Iron Man, it's all yours."
"I love this plan," Stark said, folding his arms over his chest. "Smart girl. What do you guys think?"
"Jane, calm down," Thor said, taking her hand in his. She looked up at him. "I am confident we can take care of this in Asgard."
Memories assailed her then, of tall towers, a sky full of galaxies, a bridge between worlds that glistened in the daylight, and of ships, dark elves, the death of Thor's mother that was entirely her fault, and his brother, cruel and cold and strangely protective, and also dead. She wiped a hand across her brow. It was really, really warm in here. A machine started beeping.
"Uh, better try another tactic Romeo."
"Jane," Thor said, cupping her cheek in his hand. "Jane, breathe. Push it down. Don't panic."
It was really, really hot. She didn't want to stay here. Did she want to go to Asgard? The beeping intensified. Sudden, searing heat ripped through her. Jane screamed.
"I think she feels threatened," Stark said. "We better get out of here."
"Jane."
"That means you too," Fury said. "We leave now."
"You do not give orders to a Prince of Asgard!"
Jane couldn't breathe.
"You do when he's being an idiot," Stark said, grabbing Thor's arm and pulling. Reluctantly, with one more look at Jane, Thor ran out the door with the others. It sealed shut, and they peered through the glass just in time to see red arcs of electricity shoot out and dance all around Jane. Her body shook like it was being electrocuted. Her mouth opened in a scream they could not hear, and then red light exploded in the room.
"Jane!" Thor yelled. "No!" He reached for his hammer. Stark and Fury wisely got out of his way as he began to pound against the door.
As quickly as it came, the red light subsided. Jane lay unconscious on top of a heap of ash and metal on the floor, tendrils of red slithering down her limbs.
"Well, damn. Time for an equipment upgrade."
Thor continued to hammer against the door. Stark walked over and pushed his hand against a small black pad. The door slid open easily.
"Jane!" Thor said, rushing to her side.
"I think," Nick Fury said, stepping deliberately over a pile of debris, "Asgard might be a wise idea. I think we can safely make this decision for her."
The room was silent as Thor gently brushed soot off her cheek. She was breathing. But he knew she would not survive many more attacks like this. Without responding, Thor put an arm beneath her, picked her up like she weighed nothing, and strode quickly out the door.
"It is a good thing you brought her to us when you did," Eir said, waving careful hands over Jane's prone figure. She looked up at Thor and strode by him to the bedside table, picking up a cloth which she then gently dabbed against Jane's forehead in a motherly gesture. "She would have caused much destruction on Midgard."
"What is wrong with her?" Thor asked "The aether is gone. I saw it leave her body."
"It has marked her. Changed her. She is still human but she is no longer as she was. This dark magic will not leave without taking her life with it. If she tries to hold it in without learning to control it, it will consume her. If she lets it loose and does not learn to control it, it will destroy everything around her."
"I do not understand," Thor said. "How much destruction can be done from a residue?"
"It is not a residue," came a deep, cultured voice. Thor looked up to see Odin standing in the door. The older man walked up to the bed. "The aether has intentionally multiplied, and deposited itself inside her, much like one would plant a seed."
Thor did not like the image that presented. "Why? How?"
Odin's expression was carefully neutral. "Just because it cannot be destroyed does not mean it cannot reproduce itself. Perhaps it found something that it liked."
Anger furrowed Thor's brow, and he took a step towards his father, raising a finger to point at him. "Jane is a good woman. There is no darkness in her heart."
"Perhaps not." Odin stroke around the bed and looked down at Jane's sleeping face. "Rather she is like a young, curious doe, eager for our world and all that it has to offer." Odin looked up. "Perhaps she found something she liked also." Thor couldn't understand. The aether was evil. Jane was not. Jane could not have an evil force reproducing itself inside her. "Think of it as a neutral force that can be used for good or evil, my son."
"How do we get rid of it? How do we keep her alive?"
"As I said, she must learn to control it."
"How? Who in Asgard can teach her such a thing?" There was one who could have helped, the most brilliant magic wielder in all the realms. The brother he had taken for granted, the brother he had lost.
"There is only one. Loki."
"Yes, and he is dead."
The All-Father remained silent. Suspicion rose up within Thor, knowing his brother's tricks, knowing but not wanting to hope.
"Father? Loki is dead."
Odin sighed wearily.
