"Oh dear, is she dead?" says Loki, but his relaxed position and apathetic voice belie his otherwise concerned words.
Jane had indeed collapsed, lying curled upon the floor of the hovercraft. She looks sickly, exhausted.
"Jane? Jane, are you alright?" asks Thor, not daring to move his vigilant gaze from their encroaching pursuers.
"I'm hungry," she moans, eyebrows creased.
"I know, Jane Foster. I'm sure we'll locate proper sustenance on Svartalfheim," he reassures her. Loki rolls his eyes.
"You had to stoop low enough for a Midgardian woman, and you chose an insatiable hog. I'll admit that I'm unsurprised. Your standards have always been… questionable." Thor growls at his taunts.
"Jane has an appetite, brother. That's an admirable trait in a woman." Loki scoffs.
"She inhaled the entire banquet table."
Before Thor can make a retort to silence Loki's sassy mouth, he swerves to avoid hostile Asgardian fire. This jostles Jane and she utters a guttural, disturbed noise at the base of her throat.
"Still hungry, Thor," she snaps, with shocking fierceness for an Earthling with the munchies, cradling herself on the ground. He nods.
"Right then. Time for step three."
"Step three? What? We haven't even—AAH!" Loki is cut off as Thor pushes him from the aircraft. He plummets, body helplessly contorted in the gusty fall down. Loki clatters gracelessly on a small boat, soon joined by Thor, with Jane in his arms. Jane's gaze immediately settles on Fandral, the man steering the speedy, rocketing boat.
"Do you have any snacks, Fandral?" she asks. He coughs uneasily, shifting his weight.
"Erm, no," he mutters.
"Oh. I could've sworn I smelled a peach." Fandral blinks, shaking his head to clear it.
"Well, yes, I do harbor a peach. But that's for me, Jane, I'm very sorry."
Jane, completely unconcerned for the rapid pace at which they are cutting across the water, glares daggers at Fandral.
"Thor," she snarls. "I'm very hungry." Thor gives Fandral a pleading look.
"Please, Fandral? She is a lady…" Fandral sighs, withdrawing a fat, ripe peach from his cloak. Jane licks her lips, swallowing the accumulating saliva in her mouth.
"I could really use that delicious peach, Fandral," she says.
"Oh, very well," he concedes, offering out the desired fruit. Jane frowns, staring at the peach.
"I'm too weakened by hunger to lift my arms," she mutters.
The aircrafts above had begun to fire down at them, and it is all Fandral can do to keep steering with a single hand. Jane remains in Thor's arms, not wishing to sit on the floor. Thor stares at Loki, who vigorously shakes his head.
"No. Oh, no, no, definitely not."
"Brother, please. I would be in your debt."
"I never agreed to hand feed your revolting, salivating pet!"
"Loki, please, I would owe you something."
"Nothing you could give me could ever possibly atone for such a repugnant chore!"
"The crown," Thor says. For a moment, all voices are ceased, and the only sounds heard are the violent sloshing of the sea and the grumbling of Jane's tummy.
"You will surrender the crown if I feed the girl this peach?" Thor closes his eyes for a second, silently debating with himself.
"Yes, I will. When we get back from finding Jane enough food, and when I am offered the throne some day in the future, the position will be yours for the taking." Loki weighs his options, turning the situation over in his head.
"Fine. I'll do it." He takes the peach from Fandral, lip curling in disgust at the sight of Jane's slack jaw. She stares into his eyes, pupils enlarged with anticipation.
"I'm ready," she sings, growing impatient. Loki swallows his inhibitions and wills himself to reach his hand forward.
Jane hungrily nibbles at the fruit, but her teeth only scrape off strips of the fuzzy skin.
"No!" she cries. "Support my head, Loki. I need to be able to reach." Loki quells a surge of shame in his gut and slides a hand under Jane's head. He keeps his gaze locked on the sky as he feels her tear at the helpless peach. With a small moan of revulsion, Loki feels the peach's juice slide over his hand, making his fingers sticky. Jane halts in her rigorous chewing.
"Look at me. I want you to watch me devour this." Loki shakes his head.
"I don't want to." Jane looks up at Thor's beaming face.
"Thor, I need Loki to watch me do this."
"It's part of the deal, brother," he accedes.
"But this is so… so unorthodox! Be reasonable." Thor doesn't say anything, and Loki heaves a sigh. "Fine!" he snarls, turning his eyes to the hungry creature in Thor's hold.
Jane's pupils are black holes, endless voids of cruelty. Her lips retract to give her teeth unbridled access to the substantially diminished peach. Most of the pit is exposed, and the rest of the fruit is torn and clings to her lips. She is wild, ripping savagely at the peach until she is just slurping the stringy remains from the pit.
She licks her lips when she's finished and Loki snatches his hand out from under her head. He flings the pit into the restless water beneath the ship. Loki wipes his sticky hands on Thor's cape, unable to quiet the whimpers in his throat.
"That was good," Jane commends. He shivers, sitting down heavily on the floor of the boat.
"I'm never going on a mission with you again," Loki hisses at Thor.
"Oh, relax, brother! This day will be sung of in songs! The day Loki became successor to the throne!"
"Now on to Svartalfheim!" cries Jane.
"We have yet to sate my lady!" Thor bellows.
AN: I know it isn't difficult to type out a sentence, leaving me a review that'll have me on top of the moon for the rest of the week. Please?