I'm so happy you're enjoying it so far! Thank you!
I wrote this in the midst of wind and darkness and blustering snow. It may have helped;)
For the FIRST section, I listened to the Hobbit soundtrack "Misty Mountains Cold." The quiet one, that the dwarves sing:)
For the SECOND SECTION I listened to A Christmas Carol soundtrack "Main Title" and "Touch My Robe." (The *new* Christmas Carol)
For the THIRD section, I listened to the Thor soundtrack "Science and Magic." (Which is, if you think about it, the definition of Lokane, isn't it…?;)
Enjoy!
VVVVV
TWO
"I don't care if the carpet's stained
We've got food upon our table
I don't care if it's gonna rain
Our little room is warm and stable."
-Love is Christmas
Jane's fingers closed around her wooden goblet, her subdued gaze drifting across the bright orange-and-yellow tongues of dancing fire in the center of the floor. The gray smoke wandered upward, toward the looming ceiling, toward a distant hole in the scarlet canvas—a hole through which she could see the black sky, and the glimmer of stars. Down at Jane's level, all the court and servants sat or reclined on thick stacks of furs and blankets and pillows. The warm air hung thick with the scent of the venison, turkey, boar and mince pies they had all just eaten, as well as the rich smell of burning cedar. She glanced over all the familiar faces, their forms and features half hidden in shadows, as they talked quietly, drank from their mugs, or dozed. Across from her, upon a pile of boxes, three minstrels were arranging themselves and their instruments. Jane knew that as soon as they started to play, she would fall asleep.
Someone stepped softly behind her, then sank down next to her. She turned a smile to Thor—he returned it, settling his broad frame, and took a sip from his own drink.
"Are you warm enough?" he asked, reaching up to tuck her fleece blanket more securely around her shoulders. She nodded.
"Yes, thank you," she said quietly. "Actually, the last few months I haven't minded the cold at all."
"Something to do with carrying a Frost Giant in your belly, I suppose," Thor chuckled, taking another drink. "Even a very, very small one at the moment."
"You know, that's what I love about you, Thor," Jane teased. "You're so delicate."
He snorted.
"Speaking of delicate," he looked around the room. "Where is my brother?"
Jane took a breath, then sighed.
"Over there."
"Where?"
"All the way over there," Jane nodded, indicating a lone corner all the way across from them. She could just see Loki's profile, backlit by a single lamp. He sat like the rest of them, but he leaned back against a large trunk, a book in his lap, its pages tilted toward the flame. He sat as motionless as a statue. Thor heaved an even bigger sigh.
"I am sorry," he shook his head. "I thought, with you here this year, he would relent in his usual practice." He set his mug down, and gazed solemnly across at Loki. "It seems I was wrong."
Jane frowned at Thor. The firelight ruddied his complexion, and deepened the luster of his hair. His eyebrows drew together as he continued to study the shadowy form of his brother.
"He does this every year?" Jane asked. "I thought it was just because you are king now."
"No," Thor shook his head. "It has been the practice in Asgard for countless years to give grand gifts to the king upon Christmas Day. The grandest you can muster, even at great cost. Loki has always striven harder than anyone in the entire household to impress…well, our father." Thor shrugged uncomfortably. He gave her a sideways glance. "I don't suppose he's been sleeping nights."
Jane shook her head, surprised.
"No—not for at least a month."
Thor nodded, resigned.
"Not eating well—and this year he has been spending more time than necessary at the Academy, has he not?"
"Yes," Jane said, her chest tightening. "I'm worried about him."
Thor smiled kindly.
"Do not worry too hard. As I said, this has been his habit ever since he came of age."
Jane, pained, gazed over the fire at her husband again.
"That makes me sad," she murmured.
"Truly?" Thor said, as if confused. She nodded, not taking her eyes from Loki.
"I've always had so much fun at Christmastime. I wish he could, too."
"What did you do?" Thor wondered. Jane turned back to him, her heart lifting a little. She allowed a smile.
"Well we…My parents and I would go to a tree farm and cut down a tree, and we'd set it up in our house and decorate it with all kinds of ornaments. Some from when Mom was little, some that I made in school. Just dinky little things, out of popsicle sticks…" Jane's memories drifted back, her eyes unfocused. "We'd give presents to everybody, not just important people. And they didn't have to be expensive, but sometimes they were." She abruptly laughed. "I'd always ask for expensive things, like telescopes and microscopes and huge astronomy books…" She wrapped her blanket tighter around herself. Suddenly, the back of her throat hurt. "When I was little, I was more concerned about what I would get for Christmas. Now I…I wish I could give my parents a few presents, you know?" She gave a watery look to Thor—who watched her intently. "Things that they'd like. Things they'd have fun with. Seeing them open something they'd enjoy would be…" She swallowed, unable to go on. Thor gazed at her, silent. She swallowed again, looking away.
"Sorry," she whispered.
"I hope you are not sorry, Jane Foster," Thor said quietly. "I am not sorry to have listened to you."
She looked up at him—his blue eyes softened. She smiled again, and he answered it. Then, he turned and gazed over the fire, at the minstrels.
The three men sat quite motionless, their instruments limp in their laps. And then, in a low, almost imperceptible tone, they began to hum.
A deep note, a meandering, grave melody. Haunting. And sharp with sadness.
Jane's thoughts melted, and she straightened, captivated.
The other men in the room silenced their conversations, and sat up, attending to the musicians. And they took breaths, and began to join. Thus, a quiet, chesty thrum pulled through the still air of the tent, even as the canvas peak was disturbed by an uneasy, restless wind.
The musicians opened their mouths. And in that same deep, slow melody, they began to sing.
"In days of old when fire burned
Upon the peak of Iron Fist
A king of ancient power ruled
His gold brow fair, his right hand just."
Jane felt a collective breath draw through the crowd, and the men, their eyes lowered—began to sing as well. Even Thor, his head bowed, his brow furrowed.
"And over all the realm there hung
A deep and settled peace forsooth
His watchful heart, his noble heart
Beat strong within a mighty breast.
Alas, these days of beauty failed
The light was destined to grow dim
A shadow fell across the hall
And bore away his dearest kin."
A slow ache started in Jane's heart as the music flowed through her—soft, ancient sorrow flooding every note. Absently, she blinked and looked across the flickering flames…
To see Loki gradually lift his head, raising his attention from the book. His profile, black and indistinct, settled like stone as he listened.
"A life for life—he must lay down
Lash for lash upon the back
Redeemed the sons of hallowed halls
At price of their own sire's blood."
The words ended. The steady, sad hum continued for another verse, slowly softening, until it faded to nothing.
Silence followed. No one spoke.
"That…" Jane finally managed, barely a whisper to Thor. "Why is that a Christmas song?"
Thor did not move. But he took a breath.
"An old story," he murmured. "And one that Loki should tell you."
Jane watched him for a moment, then nodded. And with that, Thor arose to find his pallet next to his father, leaving Jane to study the fire as it swayed, the words of the ageless song thrumming through her mind.
LJLJLJLJL
"Heave-ho! Heave -ho! Heave-ho!"
Jane clasped her hands together, an electric thrill racing through her body as she stood in the center of the great feasting hall. Midday sun streamed in from the high windows, catching the frost that shook loose of the tree.
The biggest, grandest Christmas tree Jane had ever seen in her life. On the last day of the Snow Festival—two days before Christmas Eve—the men had ventured out into the wilds to find the perfect specimen, and once they had found and felled it, they had summoned a special sledge from Asgard—the largest sledge in existence. It took thirty horses to pull it, and even they strained when the great tree was laid down on it.
Now, the mighty evergreen, bound up by ropes and pullies and placed at the end of the hall, slowly, steadily righted as the men of the court tugged and yanked. Its tip cut into the sunlight, nearly touching the ceiling—it had to be three stories tall, this magnificent tree. The earthy scent of it washed through the room—Jane took a deep breath, grinning like a little girl. Several men darted underneath the tree's lowest boughs, scrabbling through the needles to secure the stand.
Loki strode up beside Jane, dressed in long, flowing, dark green velvet embroidered with silver—some of his finest clothes. He cast a critical gaze up and down the tree, then took a breath.
"Do we have it?"
"Yes, your highness!" came the answering call, and a wide-eyed, tow-headed young man bustled out from beneath the tree, needles covering him. Loki nodded.
"Very well—let it go!"
The men swarmed across the tree, and untied it—and in a few minutes, it stood free.
"Oh, Loki, it's gorgeous," Jane murmured.
"It's not even decorated yet," Loki answered, preoccupied. He turned around, and motioned to someone at the other end of the room. Jane faced that way too, to see six young people nervously step forward across the brown marble floor. They all wore fine deep green as well, though the fabric was plainer. To Jane, they looked to be about sixteen years old—though she knew they were probably much older—older than she was! Three girls, three boys. One red-headed girl (her hair was a bushy mess) and one brunette boy. All the others had blonde curly hair, and every one of the kids had wide, sky-blue eyes and fair skin. Loki strode toward them, clasping his hands behind his back.
"You have been chosen for this honor because of your flawless performances in conjuring, tactile magic and inventiveness," he said, walking back and forth in front of them, intently watching their faces. "Your professors have praised your skills highly." He paused heavily. "I am sure you will make me proud."
"Yes, Master," they all answered, nodding quickly—and the red-headed girl blushed. Jane hid her smile.
"Asdis and Finnur," Loki pointed to a blonde girl and boy. "Color of any kind. Glass figures, ribbons, orbs, crystals. Brinya and Haraldur," he pointed to a blonde girl and the brunette boy. "Frost! Ice! But no cold, and no wet," he held up a warning finger. "Not a trace. Understand?"
"Yes!" they answered hurriedly. Loki turned and smiled at the last two—the remaining blonde boy and the messy red-haired girl. "Geir? Eydis?"
"Yes?" the girl, Eydis, looked at Loki eagerly. Loki's smile warmed.
"You may do the holly."
The girl's whole face lit up.
"Thank you, Master! You will not regret it, I promise!"
"Come on, Eydis," the blonde boy—a tall, good-looking one—tugged on her hand, trying to get her attention.
"Thank you, thank you!" Eydis said to Loki again, whilst being tugged away. The students dashed out into the hall, Jane covering her mouth. Loki saw it, and frowned at her.
"What are you laughing about?"
"You have an admirer," Jane crossed her arms and winked at him. His eyes flashed.
"What?"
"Eydis," Jane gestured to the red-head. "She has a major crush on you."
Loki was puzzled.
"A crush?"
"She likes you," Jane clarified. Loki sighed and shook his head.
"Yes, poor Geir."
"Why?"
"Oh, he's hopelessly in love with her," Loki folded his arms too, assessing the tree. "Someday she'll realize it."
Chuckling, Jane stepped up and wrapped her arms around Loki's left arm—which felt warm and very soft, for the velvet. Instantly Loki turned, bound her up in a tight sideways hug, nuzzled down and kissed her quickly on the neck. She giggled, and he released her, then strode out toward the tree. Jane wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly intrigued as she caught sight of Loki's students approaching various places in the hall, stopping and discussing. The rest of the court settled back to watch, too.
Then, Asdis and Finnur deliberately drew near the great tree. Narrowing her eyes, Jane watched as Asdis carefully rubbed her hands together. Red light flashed between her fingers. Then, keeping her hands clasped, she raised them to her lips and blew.
Long, sparkling red ribbons shot out from the other side of her hands, leaping up the side of the tree as if it were climbing. She snapped her fingers—the ribbon anchored in high boughs and its curling ends cascaded down, almost to the floor. On the other side, Finnur clapped his hands, then slapped the air—
And a blue glass ball shot out and up and danced into place amongst the highest branches. He did this again and again, rapid fire—and each time a different color bulb, glimmering perfectly as Venetian glass, darted up into the tree. Asdis kept up with him, her shimmering ribbons fluttering and tumbling, covering the tree with color.
Jane wouldn't have pulled her attention away from this for anything—except new movement caught her eye. She glanced to the left…
And saw Geir and Eydis, deep in concentration, rubbing their hands against each other's. Eydis' right hand earnestly rubbed his left, and her left rubbed his right. They met each other's eyes, drew their hands together to one place…
And they stepped back.
Jane gasped.
A thick garland of richly-colored, twinkling holly materialized between them—and stretched and grew the further they parted from each other. Eydis let out a ridiculous laugh, and Geir grinned. When it hung about twenty feet long. Eydis called, "One, two, three!" And they bent, and threw the holly up into the air—
It swung toward the golden wall, and hung itself in a wild-but-elegant manner, as if it had taken hours to arrange it just so. Jane gave a small squeal, bounced up and down on the soles of her feet and bit her lip—she couldn't contain herself.
The flurry of precise and wondrous movement continued. The tree was soon drenched in glass figures and waterfalls of ribbon. Holly decked every straight edge of the ceiling and wound up and around every pillar. Then, as Finnur and Asdis retreated from the tree, Brinya and Haraldur neared it. They looked at each other, stood on either side of the tree, raised their hands…
And began briskly dusting off their left palms, as if knocking flour onto the tree…
And it did look like flour, at first. White powder dashing off their hands and onto the green boughs…
Until it hit. And then it burst into clouds of snow, which gushed down over everything, freezing and sparkling and dripping into pointed icicles.
"Oh. My," Jane tried, but couldn't finish. From top to bottom, ice and snow lighted upon the whole tree, not concealing the decorations, but enhancing them with wintery majesty. Then, when Brinya and Haraldur were satisfied, they split off, and turned their attention to the holly. Both of them raised their left arms to rest the heel of their hands against their chins. Then, they took deep breaths and, once again, blew.
Frost clouded from their lips and caught upon the holly garlands, coating them with silvery sparkles that made the berries look even brighter.
Jane saw Loki watching them all—watching them with tenseness in his frame, his arms still folded. Then, he began to stride from couple to couple, speaking with them, pointing at various places in the hall. They nodded, and then hurried to make whatever amendments he had commanded. He looked intent, deliberate—but not happy. Jane resolutely turned away from him, and kept watching the frost burst in clouds through the upper air.
And then, the hall fell quiet and still. The students lowered their arms. With long, careful strides, Loki made three rounds of the hall, sweeping his emerald gaze across everything, his brow furrowed, his mouth set. He paused directly in front of the tree, looking up at it for an endless moment.
Then, he nodded.
The children started breathing again, and gave relieved smiles to each other.
And Loki swung around, and walked with grand purpose back toward Jane.
"What now?" she asked. He glanced at her.
"The hardest part," he murmured, stopped and faced the tree. "The light."
Jane opened her mouth.
Loki brought his hands together in a thunderous clap.
A million tiny golden lights burst into being, leaping across the boughs of the tree like countless fairies, then settling with shivering excitement upon the tip of every single needle. The student's eyes grew wide as saucers. Jane's heart stopped.
Loki took a deep breath, brought his hands together, swept them down, then back up…
A deep glow started at the center of the tree, shooting up from the trunk to the tip—
And the snow and ice began twinkling from within with reds and blues and yellows. Loki made a swift, broad backhanded motion with his right hand, then his left, and billions of flame-like tongues of orange and red leaped to life amongst the holly garlands, making the leaves appear as if they were tipped in liquid gold. Then, he brought both hands close to his face and cupped them around his mouth. He exhaled a low, fathomless breath—Jane saw the skin of his hands turn sapphire and gray—he blinked, and his eyes glowed scarlet for a moment. Then—
He lightly clapped his hands up toward the ceiling. A gray dart of cloud shot up, struck the alabaster…
And snow cascaded down from every beam, every rafter. Jane yelped, watching it shower down…
And it vanished into thin air, just ten feet above her head. She tried again to make some sort of awestruck exclamation, but her mind wouldn't work well enough. She turned toward Loki—
He wasn't finished.
His hands were clasped tightly together, pressed against his heart, his head bowed, his eyes closed.
Everyone stood utterly still, holding his breath, as Loki seemed to be gathering all the concentration and force in his being.
All at once, with a swift, powerful movement, Loki flung out his hands toward the tree, his eyes flying open—
And a light—a light grander, brighter, more piercing and more fantastic than Jane had ever seen—cracked into being like a firework at the very top of the tree.
Breathless, she stared at it.
No one moved.
It radiated white beams of sharp illumination, its very heart almost blinding, its presence quiet, still, solemn and captivating. Its light caught the falling snow, making each flake glitter like shavings of diamonds. They all gazed up at this star, suddenly serious, as if they were seeing something totally different from the other merry trimmings.
Thoughtfully, Jane turned, and studied her husband.
He gazed up at the star as well, as if he were alone in the room. Its light reflected off his eyes and gave color to his features. His features, which carried an odd expression—an expression of almost…familiarity.
Jane smiled, and stepped toward him. She kissed the back of his shoulder, and squeezed his upper arm.
"It all looks beautiful."
He didn't answer, but his warm fingers rested on hers.
LJLJLJLJL
Night had fallen a long time ago. Everyone had gone to bed, leaving the palace solemn and quiet. Any movement the watchmen made echoed through the empty, darkened halls.
Loki stood alone in the great feasting hall, his arms folded, gazing up at the tree once more. The conjured snow had ceased. All of the other lights had been put to sleep for the night, but the star at the very top never slept. It twinkled at him, casting pure, silvery light down upon everything around it. It almost seemed to be hanging in the night sky, for its beams caught the snow upon the boughs, and turned the marble floor to white.
Loki's whole frame felt sore, tired. He bit the inside of his lip, casting about for any more errors in his students' design. He couldn't see any, but the light in here was bad, now. Any adjustments would have to wait until tomorrow morning. Christmas Eve.
He took a low, tight breath, lowered his arms, turned and silently left the hall. He swept like a shadow through the corridors, passing the flicker of drowsy torches, keeping especially quiet when he passed people's chamber doors. After ascending several flights of stairs, passing curtained balconies, and skirting the library, he came to his own rooms.
The door hung slightly open. Soft firelight flickered within. Loki paused, then reached out with his right hand and gently pushed the door open. He slipped inside, his eyebrows drawing together. He'd thought she would be asleep by now…
Jane sat within, on a low-backed, cream armchair. She still wore her day dress—a long-sleeved, form-fitting evergreen-colored garment subtly embroidered with red poinsettias. The lengthy skirt of it tumbled down around her feet. She leaned her right elbow on the armrest, and her fingers pressed softly against her lips. Her long hair, gently curling, fell elegantly across her shoulders and down her back, a few strands gracefully crossing her fair brow. Her face—beautiful, flawless and soft—tilted toward the fire. Dark brown, long-lashed eyes graced by eloquent eyebrows absently gazed at the golden flames. Those same eyebrows were drawn together, sharpening her peaceful expression. And tears filled her eyes and trailed down her cheeks. Loki stopped.
For a long moment, all he could hear was his heart, which had picked up to beat heavily against his breastbone. Then, he eased inside, shut the door behind him, and ventured across the rug toward her. Cautiously, fearfully watching her every feature, he slipped out of the dark and into the light.
She saw him, blinked, and instantly gave him a bright, broken smile.
"Hello, sweetheart," she greeted him, reaching up to wipe away her tears. "How did everything turn out?"
Loki did not answer. The pain hidden in her voice filled his blood, and sent an ache through all his limbs.
"Why are you crying?" he asked, his tone low and careful.
"Oh, just…hormones," she waved it off, swiping at her eyes again and turning toward the fire. "And I'm kinda tired."
Loki waited. And he watched in anguish as her expression shattered again, and more tears spilled.
"I just…" Jane said shakily, trying to brush back her tears with both hands but not succeeding. "I was just…Just thinking about my…mom this evening. And my dad."
Loki stepped nearer, making no sound with his feet. He knelt down in front of her, his long coat draping out behind him, and he gathered her hands up in his and gently rubbed them. He tilted his face up toward hers and raised his eyebrows, to show he was listening. Jane's tears kept falling, and she struggled to control herself. But she, trembling, squeezed his hands back, and kept talking.
"I miss them a lot at Christmastime," she confessed, her voice quivering. "We were always together, just the three of us, around this time of year. Playing in the snow and…and decorating the tree and…and I'd go shopping with my mom." She stopped, and had to swallow hard.
"Mhm," Loki nodded, urging her to go on even as he scooted closer, resting his arms on her lap. He never took his eyes from her face. She smiled again, weakly.
"And we'd…We'd go to Grandma's, before she died. And I'd bake cookies with her, and help her put up the lights." She stopped again. Loki's grip on her tightened gently. A sob snagged in her throat, but she calmed, blinked her watery eyes open, and gave him a braver smile—then looked down.
"I'm so sorry," Loki whispered, his chest tight. "I wish there was something I could do to make you happier."
She immediately frowned.
"Oh, no. No, no," she shook her head, then leaned down and pressed her lips to his forehead, hurriedly kissing him there and then on his temple. Loki's eyes closed, and he leaned into her even as she wrapped her arms around his head. He laid the side of his head against her heart, enveloping her slender form in his arms. He felt her rest her cheek on his crown, then kiss his head, then nuzzle down against him. She stroked her fingers through his hair. Loki took a deep breath of her scent, his bones weary.
"I love you so much it hurts me," Jane murmured. "You're the happiest part of my life."
He lifted his head a moment and kissed her throat, then pressed his ear to her heartbeat again, and there they stayed, long into the night.
To be continued…
Review!