Chapter One

Six months later…

It was still hard for her to be in a vehicle, understandably since the last time she'd driven had ended with the death of her husband. Yet, she was thoroughly convinced that being alone in the unknown countryside was vastly better than being surrounded by people with sympathizing looks that were probably thinking she was losing her mind. For nearly half a year she'd been in a psychiatric hospital with nurses and doctors monitoring her every move, with the occasional visit from Frigga or Darcy or Erik or (shockingly enough) even Odin. (Though the last merely stared at her with his stony eyes as his wife attempted to pretend everything was normal.) Then a few days ago, after she'd felt she'd suffered enough bruising to whatever was left of her dignity, Jane Foster –Odinson checked herself out against her doctor's wishes, and found a travel agency to book lodgings for an indefinite amount of time in the most rural, desolate place they could find.

"I'm in need of rest," she told the agent, "somewhere quiet where no one would think to look."

The next day the agency had called back, she'd packed, stopped by to pay the deposit and headed off towards the middle of nowhere. She'd had to stop a few times to fill up her cars tank, being overly cautious for fear she'd be stranded on the deserted country roadways. Then, after a day and a half's drive, she'd finally arrived at the cabin. It was quite big for just herself, at least from the outside, and she hurried on inside to investigate. (Did most homes here leave their doors unlocked?) A small smile pulled at her lips, she'd always been curious. Perhaps she was reclaiming a piece of herself already?

The heels of her boots clicked softly across the stone flooring as she slowly moved from one room to another, even up the wooden stairs and back down. The decor left much to be desired, what with stuffed birds scattered here and there like statures and random pelts affixed to the walls. It was obvious who ever had designed the place was attempting a homey-woodsy feel, and had failed terribly. Jane actually cringed when she saw a fox pelt on the living room wall, her brown eyes moving quickly towards a stuffed animal in the corner.

"Poor owl," she mumbled, turning to head downstairs and bring her bags in before the rain hit. Not that it was supposed to rain, but it was awfully cloudy, and she wasn't exactly the luckiest person around – at least not recently. Besides, though she found it ridiculous, Jane felt as though she were being watched by someone.

'Just nerves,' she mentally assured herself as she rushed out towards her car, only to freeze with fright upon exiting the house. One hand went to Jane's chest as she nervously laughed and apologized to the woman standing in the driveway. "So sorry, I didn't see you there."

The woman, though a little older than Jane, was still attractive, with golden hair and warm, brown eyes. "Not a problem, it's my fault really," she said with a smile. "Oh, forgive my manners, I'm Sif Vanir –"

"Vanir? The caretaker?"

"The very same," she replied, shaking Jane's hand cordially. "I just wanted to welcome you to Laufeyson Cottage and give you the front door key. I was going to leave it under the mat, but here you are."

"Here I am," Jane repeated as politely as she could. "I actually just arrived," she said, desperate to fill in the silence around this woman with something, as she made Jane decidedly uncomfortable, "and was coming out for my luggage."

"Let me help you," the elder offered.

"That's really very nice of you, but I've got it," Jane said, when actually thinking the woman was being nosy.

"I insist."

Okay, make that pushy and nosy.

"And I really can't let you," was her firm reply. Sif's jaw clenched, highlighting the few wrinkles that had begun to appear upon her otherwise youthful face, her eyes watching Jane's movements closely.

"Oh," she gasped out as Jane pulled her two instrument cases from the truck, "are you a musician?"

"Some think so," Jane answered evasively.

"Do you plan on playing all alone out here?"

Jane paused, half way to the front door, and turned to look at the woman. "Well, of course you do," she muttered to herself, as if suddenly realizing how odd her question was. Jane shook her head and continued on, placing her cases just inside the door, then turning back to get her suitcases. "There's a piano at the church," Sif spoke up again. "The women folk play cards there Friday nights if you want some company or… accompaniment."

"That's very kind of you," Jane said, trying to remain polite, "but I really just came here to be alone."

"Oh? Oh, well this is certainly the place for that," the blond answered. "Doesn't even have a phone line, so I hope you brought your own. Though you probably won't get a tower signal this far outside of town," she mumbled the last part seemingly to herself.

"It's alright," Jane reassured. "I really won't be needing one."

"Well, if you do, there's still a pay phone in town. Near the post office."

"Yes, thanks" Jane forced a smile as she dropped her suitcases just inside the cabin and then turned to stand in front of the door. "It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Vanir –"

"Sif," the woman insisted.

"Sif," Jane repeated, her smile slipping a bit. "I would invite you in, but as I said I just arrived."

The caretaker's owlish eyes looked at her blankly, her body stiff in posture.

"I was hoping to unpack," Jane explained, then inwardly frowned at her lack of reaction. "I am very tired after my drive, perhaps another time?"

Sif blinked a few times. "What? Oh, oh, of course! How rude of me! Of course you're tired. Well, take care dear. If you should need anything, my house is the first on the left on your way into town. You can't miss it!"

"Great," Jane said before shutting the door and looking down at her luggage. The two bedrooms were down a hallway, away from any other rooms – except a bathroom located in between them – in the cottage, and were (thankfully) on the first floor. Pulling her elbow-length chestnut hair into a messy bun, Jane set about moving her luggage and unpacking them into either the dresser or the wardrobe. Next, she moved her instruments, one an acoustic guitar and the other a violin, to the second floor, where the living room, kitchen, and a small half bathroom were found, and set them down by the barstools (located on the living room side of the kitchen counter). Releasing a deep sigh, Jane looked around the quaint little area. The living room was on one side, kitchen on the other, with space for a small hall leading to a half bathroom separating the kitchen table from the actually kitchen. Jane forced herself to take in a slow steady breath as she began to feel a bit Closter phobic. Grabbing her jacket, she headed outside for a long walk in the brisk, early spring air.

It was well after dark by the time Jane had stumbled back to the cottage. She was thankfully thoroughly exhausted and, after a quick shower, fell into a blissful sleep. At least for a little while on any account. Around one in the morning, Jane shot straight up in the bed, her eyes wide as she caught the sound of… Was that tapping or maybe mice? Getting up slowly, she strained her ears for the faintest noise as she walked down the hallway and up the wooden stairs, following the sound. Finding a flashlight on an old table next to the landing, Jane switched it on and looked about the kitchen and living room before heading up another small stairway – only three or so steps – to a door. A door that seemed to be locked, though Jane did try to force it open before sighing and heading back downstairs.

The next day, Jane walked into town, to the Vanir's house to be more specific. Knocking on the door, she was surprised when a slender man with fair hair and sky blue eyes answered the door instead of Sif. "Hi," she said with a forced smile as he glared at her curiously, "I was looking for Sif. I'm Jane Foster," she continued as he just stared, "I'm staying at Laufeyson Cottage."

"Of course," his face warmed a bit, though it didn't quite reach his eyes, "come in. Laufeyson Cottage, hm? Did Sif give you that name?"

"Yes," she said as she followed him into the living room, both of them remained standing as they looked at one another. "I saw her yesterday shortly after I'd arrived, she was the first to welcome me here."

"Was she now? Well, then, allow me to be the second," he smiled in a way that Jane was certain had been charming when he was younger. "I'm Fandral Vanir, general physician in these parts."

"Pleased to meet you, officially," Jane grinned as she shook his hand, her eyes flicking towards a movement over his shoulder. "Hello, Sif. I wanted to apologize if I was… abrupt yesterday. I must have been terribly rude and I'm sorry."

Sif laughed, her brown eyes flicking towards her husband in a way Jane found deeply unsettling. "Aren't you adorable? I just caught you at a bad time is all."

"Yes, well, I also wanted to ask you something about the cottage."

"The cottage?"

Jane frown softly, notice how uncomfortable the woman seemed to be getting, wringing her hands as she glanced from Jane to her husband. "I heard noises last night-"

"It is an old house," Fandral pointed out.

"Not those kinds of noises," she stated. "It seemed to be coming from the room off the little stairway. The door was locked."

"It's just an old storage room," Sif said with a forced shrug. "It's been locked up for around thirty years now. We don't give that key out."

"Besides, it was probably just mice or bats," her husband said calmly.

"Mice," Jane repeated.

"Or a raccoon."

"He's joking," the blond said, her eyes narrowing into slights. "There are no unwanted pests on the premises, I promise. I'm sorry I can't help you this time."

"Yes, well, thank you anyway," she nodded to the couple as she saw herself out. Jane headed back to the cottage, slightly confused and a little bit worried about Sif Vanir.