Thor stood at his balcony overlooking the arena he and Sif would spar in. He was reflecting on Jane Foster, and idly wondered if she, too, was thinking of him.

What was it that fascinated him about the mortal? She was quite intelligent, very beautiful, and she was always so transfixed by him and his antics. He smiled. She had changed him, but somehow, perhaps the thought of leaving Asgard, perhaps his father's press of his sitting on the throne...he had reverted to his old behavior which had always vexed his mother so.

His mother. He missed her deeply. Jane reminded him of Frigga a bit. She was strong, determined, intelligent, but also had a depth to her soul that recalled a softer side. Jane would relish their travels, he knew she would; she would find just as much joy navigating the cosmos as she did in studying them. He knew that they were kindred, her recent reluctance was a mere temporary setback, and she would soon see that they were meant to be.

Jane Foster awoke in her new home amongst the softest sheets and most comfortable bed she'd slept in since her trip to Asgard. She stretched, yawned, and thought about what Darcy would say when she saw all of this. Jane laughed to herself. She got out of the bed and went to the bathroom to wash her face and brush her teeth. The air seemed more pure, the light more soft...the house was magical, no two ways about it.

She thought about Thor, and immediately felt a bit guilty. Though he had changed since their initial meeting, the essentials were the same...did she want to spend her life waiting for a man who was many centuries old to grow up? He was fun, to be sure. Handsome. Ok, hot. But that wasn't what she wanted in her life for an infinite amount of time.

She made her way downstairs (DOWNSTAIRS!), and began to wonder about coffee...had Loki thought of that...probably not. She went through the refrigerator and procured the same drink from yesterday, curiously full despite it being nearly empty when she had went to bed.

It was then that she spotted it.

A rolled up piece of paper on the counter - rolled up, in an old fashioned way. Jane unrolled it, and began to read. Her eyebrows moved slowly up her forehead as her shock at what she was reading registered.

Dearest Jane,

I hope that this finds you well, and that you enjoyed a restful night in your new home.

I must apologize for my rash behavior, I am prone to a temper not easily controlled...something that I have every intention of attending to.

After I dined this evening, I adjourned to the gardens at the palace, and was immediately reminded of our time here. It was with a heavy, though understanding heart that I recalled those moments.

The sky above appeared less expansive...the blooms dulled...the lark whose song was always so precious to my ears seemed flat. It was all too clear why the many beauties which surrounded me were so wanting, for I was alone, unable to appreciate their unspeakable loveliness without you.

I am a fool, Jane Foster, as trite as it sounds. I ask not for your eyes whose depths I had only begun to marvel at to see me differently...for your gentle hand whose touch I've longed for since we have been separated...for your laugh to once more caress my ears. I only ask that you find some part of yourself to forgive me. Forgive my arrogance, forgive my presumption, my conceit, my hateful treatment of you and your home.

I will await your response. If you are so inclined, please will you call to Heimdall this day at the hour of noon. You may not enter Asgard as of yet, but if you respond by letter, I assure you, Heimdall will see that I receive it.

Please, dearest, forgive me.

Ever,

Thor

She sat with a thud at her wooden table. What was this. This didn't sound like him...and yet somehow, it did...

Jane was baffled. He sought her forgiveness...not her hand. He was humbled, he was...different. Quickly, Jane went to her bag to obtain a piece of paper and pen. She would write directly...it was 8:30. Plenty of time.

Three hours later...

Shit. It never sounded right! She tore at her hair. She ripped the letter to shreds, and began afresh.

Dear Thor,

You can imagine my shock at receiving your letter. It was lovely of you to think of me thus...and I thank you for your concern.

Your brother did a wonderful job, and I am enjoying the home very much.

While I believe I can forgive you in the foreseeable future, I rather think that my life might be better sans Aesir. I think that all of you are lovely, but I really shouldn't continue my relationship with you or yours.

I hope you can understand.

Best,

Jane

She threw her sweater on and ran out into the desert to call Heimdall, pausing only a moment to marvel at the grass which grew so green around her front door.

Loki made his way across the bridge to Heimdall. Jane would be sending a response, and he needed to obtain it immediately so he could send his brother to her directly and plan for Odin's passing.

He smiled at the watcher of the realms, receiving a curt nod as response. Within seconds, a white envelope appeared at Loki's feet. He picked it up, opened it, and sighed. His head was thrown back in frustration, and he crumpled the letter in his hands.

She wasn't ready to forgive him. Blast the mortal and her stubbornness! He turned on his heel and began to make his way back to the palace.

But no...perhaps he would pay her a friendly visit. See exactly how this feeble mind of hers worked.

A second later, he was gone.

Jane was absolutely thrilled with the garden full of blossoms she had never laid eyes on before. She decided to cut some and bring them into the house.

And that was where she was when she was startled by the imposing figure of Loki looming over her.

"I trust your sleep was restful," he said.

"Loki! What are you doing here?" Jane started and exclaimed.

He smiled. "Merely ensuring that my work was received well."

Jane stood, and rubbed the back of her hand across her forehead. "Yes, thank you." She paused. "Was there...anything else?" She rather dreaded the answer.

He looked up toward the Midgard sky, the glaring of the sun baring down on his black clothes. "Yes...actually. But would you mind terribly if we went indoors? Your star is relentless in its brutal heat."

"Sure," she had procured all of the flowers she had wanted anyway. She hoped that whatever it was he wanted to discuss it would be over soon. She had meant to go to the lab later on, and didn't really need the mental anguish of a murderer in her house tainting her day.

In they went, and Loki took his station at the dining table. Jane filled a vase, and put the flowers inside, then sitting opposite the Prince of Asgard.

Loki smiled. "Jane, I'm here because Thor is in turmoil. I cannot endure it any longer. He simpers in passageways, wringing his hands...he's in quite a state. With the All-Father so close to making his final journey to Valhalla, Thor is poised to sit on the throne. Asgard cannot have a love sick king...she requires a leader who has her attention, her best interests at heart."

Jane looked steadily at him. "I fail to see how this is my problem."

"Surely you do not mean that."

"Oh, but I do," her voice betrayed emotion. "I refused him, he needs to get over it. I cannot make myself love him, Loki. And I'm not about to attempt it."

"So you would have Asgard suffer because of the foolish whims of a mortal?" His voice now rising in feeling.

"This is no whim, Loki."

"A crowned Prince has proposed to you, and yet like a child who knows no better, you refuse. You seem very much like you are having a tantrum...not unlike Thor. Why do you make him suffer? He is willing to abandon everything for you. What greater love is there than that?" He was affected.

"I never asked that of him! I want him to be king..." She paused, looking at him crookedly. "Hang on...hang on...THAT'S why you're here. If Thor and I marry, he will relinquish the crown and you will be king. Oh god, Loki. Of course."

He shifted. "Though what you say is indeed true, you must know that I love my brother, and it pains me to see him thus."

"You are a murderer, a liar...and countless other things! How can I believe you?" She heaved a few breaths. "Look...I'm sorry. But I'm not about to sacrifice my happiness so that you can be king."

He stood.

Jane wrapped her arms around herself, bracing for whatever he was about to do.

He hadn't planned on her seeing through his scheme, she was better than he had thought. Now he needed to mend things...his mind raced. "Did you ever care...at all for Thor?"

"Well...yes."

"And what did you like about him?"

Jane really wished that this would end. "I...liked his enthusiasm...I...liked listening to him talk about the realms..." She stopped before she admitted to liking him sans his shirt.

He turned toward her. "And that's all? You are a passionate sort, Jane. Was there nothing else about him that enthralled your mind?" He sat back down.

"Look, Loki. I just decided that we are too different...he wants to run around killing things. Fighting in wars. I'd rather be in a library, or tending a garden...or...I dunno...laughing with friends..."

"Thor laughs with friends..." He muttered.

"Yeah. About killing things and war," she added, laughing herself. "We aren't right. End of story," she paused. "Was that why you saved my life, then? Because of Thor?" She had wondered about that, and was one of only a handful of reasons she wasn't scared to death of the psycho now.

He cleared his throat. "Of course."

"You really care for him?"

"Well...I'm not here speaking with you because your conversation is riveting," but he smirked, and Jane laughed. "Very well. I'll see if I can make him understand."

"You know, if you weren't such a vicious murderer, you'd make a good king."

He stopped as he made his way out the door. "And you, Jane Foster, would have made a good Queen, if you'd only allow yourself the gift of love."

"But I wouldn't have been Queen..."

He nodded. "I wouldn't have lasted long...and Thor would have been brought back to rule. Therefore, you would have been Queen."

The gift of love, indeed. Loki wondered how he had gotten himself in such a place. He may need to rethink all of this.

But it was too perfect! Everyone would get what they wanted! This damnable mortal being the fly in the ointment.

Perhaps he should try harder with a letter...perhaps he should send one more to her...and then see what comes of it.

She was, he admitted, formidable. There was something about her that made him see what it was that Thor was so enraptured by...a bit of Frigga...but more, too. He would sit and ruminate on her and compose such a letter that Freyja herself would swoon.

He sat in his chamber, having successfully avoided Thor all day...he was fatigued, for his spell conjuring Odin was taxing. He had researched Jane Foster...and what he saw was intriguing and sad. He had sent for her papers in her lab...his magic bringing copies to Asgard, needing to understand her more fully so that his letter to her would suit.

The firelight glowed dim. The windows were drawn open, and a cool breeze filled the space. He sighed, and went to his desk to write.

He read it aloud when he finished, and smiled a touch...

My Jane,

My brother came to me today to inform me of your steadfast resolve in refusing to accept my apology, as well as my heart. I can only say that though it pains me beyond measure, I cannot make you feel something that you do not.

It is a sad journey that I must then embark on without you...and always and forever your smile will haunt my mind.

I know you understand fully what it means to be alone...to have no one with whom to confide in...to have the darkness press fiercely upon your mind, and though you fight it, it never relents. I know that your goodness glows softly like embers, though beneath them a fire awaits to be woken from slumber. I know that you understand fear, and that is what holds my heart, dear Jane...fear of failing Asgard, fear of never having your laugh in my life. We are both so very alone, when we needn't be. We could, my heart, my all, be one...be joined in an eternity of blissful embrace...

But, alas. It is all for naught. Your mind made up, and I shall not endeavor to trouble you again.

I gave this to Loki to deliver, as I want him to report back to me...to have your words spoken from your own lips how you truly feel.

Yours ever,

Thor

Loki experienced a touch if disquiet, for as he reread the letter, he realized that he was more than not describing himself...