Chapter Six: Yield

"How could I have let this happen?"

"It is not your fault, Tony."

"Yes, it is."

"No-"

"Yes, it is," he shouted. "If I had been here when I said I would, I could have stopped her." He slumped down in his chair, the fight draining from him.

"You don't know that," Thor assured him, sitting on the couch adjacent to the chair. "What could you have done to make her stay?"

"Anything instead of sitting around, doing nothing," he muttered, propping his elbow on the armrest and leaning his face heavily into his hand. "Now she's in the hands of Reindeer Games." He sat up tiredly. "There must be a way to Asgard. What was she always saying? Can't we hop on that rainbow waterfall or something?"

"It's a bridge," Thor said flatly. "And no, Loki blocked that source of transportation. We'll find another way." Then he remembered something from earlier and perked up. "Wasn't Jane working on a device that could take her to Asgard?"

A long sigh emitted from Tony's mouth. "Yes, Jane was. I was following her instructions. It's almost complete, but without her help, I can only go so far. I would need a genius. Someone on par with, well, me." Tony's face suddenly lifted from its gloom as his eyes widened. He sat up straighter, hovering over his seat. "Wait. Wait. That's it."

"What's it?"

Tony paused, caught in thought. Then he sprung to life from his chair and fished out his phone from his pocket. He started muttering to himself. "I can call… I'll call him and then… then we'll put our brains together…" He started to grin, pressing the speed dial button. As he waited for him to pick up, he shrugged. "What the heck? Might as well make this a party."

Thor looked at him in concern, wondering what brought about this sudden mood swing. "Why do you think we should celebrate at a time like this?"

Tony rolled his eyes, waving his hand. "Not that kind of party." The phone clicked and a voice mumbled something from the other line. "Hey, Banner. Look, something's come up and I have a pet project for you." He paused. "Just come to Jane's." Another pause. "I'll explain when you get here. It's-" He made a face. "No, it is not like the time in Steve's kitchen. And I warned you. When you showed up, it was your fault. Now-" He rolled his eyes. In a firm tone, he said, "Jane has been kidnapped." He paused. "Un-huh. Yeah, you'll never guess." His eyebrows shot up. "How did you guess? Never mind. Just get over here. Bye." He hung up the phone.

"Was that Bruce?" Thor asked.

Tony nodded, not looking up, already beginning to dial the next number. "Un-huh. Calling in the green rage." He added, "And a few others."

Suddenly, the door to Jane's observatory banged open, a brunette woman standing in the entryway. In her hands, she juggled with two containers and a cup, closing the door behind her with her foot. "Hey, Boss Lady, sorry I'm late. Had a project I forgot about at college and all that. But, guess who brought your favorite Chinese take-" She halted, noticing the two men. "Out?" Pursing her lips, she looked from Thor to Tony, scrunching her brow. Smirking, she asked, "What is this? A party?"

"Not that kind of party," Thor informed her.

Darcy only looked on in confusion.

Tony finished dialing, letting the phone ring as he said, "Intern, right? You're not stealing this phone. The work we're about to do can't afford breaks."

Arching a brow, she strolled over to the counter, placing the boxes and cup down before turning back to the men in confusion. "Alright, someone start spilling because I'm more lost than when Jane is on a star rant."

Thor stood, crossing the space to her. Looking down at her softly, he said, "Lady Darcy, I apologize for having to tell you this terrible news."

"Wait." She held up her hand. "If there's going to be any bad news telling, at least, let me prepare myself." Hurrying, she pivoted to swipe one of the containers off the counter and then brushed past Thor and Tony to settle down on the couch comfortably. Taking off the chopsticks taped to her container, she placed them in her hand, flexed them once and then opened the box, revealing chicken and rice slathered in red sauce. "Alright, Thunder Boy. Hit me."

Thor widened his eyes at her. "Lady Darcy, no, I do not wish to strike you."

She rolled her eyes. "Thunder Boy, you have been on Earth, or, uh, Midgard long enough to know what I meant." She tried again, "Lay it on me."

"Lay what on you?"

"For Pete's sake, what is the bad news?"

"I know not this 'Pete', but I am afraid the news involves Jane."

Darcy, having already started stuffing pieces of chicken into her mouth, mumbled, "Yeah? Where is she anyway? Tinkering away on one of her devices, I assume. That lady never stops working." Smiling, she added, "If she did, she'd have a brick ton more dates." Then darting a glance at Thor, she said, "With you, of course." Shrugging as she chewed her rice, she swallowed and asked, "Well? What is it?"

/

/

The banquet hall was decorated top to bottom as it had always been, brightening the room, welcoming all those who entered. At dinner it would usually be full of Æsir, happily chattering and surrounding the long table in the middle. Now there was only silence. Only one at the end of the table.

Fandral hopped to where the prince sat, looking more miserable by the second. The candlestick took a slow breath. Then, plastering on his biggest grin, and speaking cheerfully, said, "Loki, I have grand news."

"I am in no mood for whatever you are up to," Loki told him, not looking up from his untouched soup.

"Up to something," he gasped. "Loki, I'm galled." Noticing that he wasn't getting much of a reaction, Fandral hurried to continue. "But, I can put that behind us and tell you the great opportunity that opened up."

"Unless you can lift this curse another way, then I do not want to hear it. Leave me in peace."

"It is about the mortal."

Loki didn't show a visible reaction, but Fandral thought his mood picked up somewhat. "Has she changed her mind?" Fandral thought he imagined hope in the words.

"No," he said bluntly, and then hastily added, "However, she left her room and is in the kitchen. She's eating the Midgardian delicacy, waffles."

Loki turned sharply towards him, glaring. "She's eating in the kitchen after I strictly told her that she wouldn't be allowed food unless she dined with me?"

"Now don't twist your cape in a knot," Fandral said. "Don't you see the opportunity here?"

"I can see no one abides to my rules."

"This is your chance. She left her room. Now she is eating alone. Make your move."

"Eat in the kitchen with a mortal." Loki frowned. "When have I fallen so far?" He knew the answer to that question, but felt like asking it aloud, regardless.

"I believe you mean, when have you fallen so far into such a lovely lady's awaiting arms?"

Loki shot him a detestable look. "There's no 'awaiting arms'. And if there were, I'm sure she'd have a knife."

"Or perhaps a sword." Fandral raised his brows. "Who knows what weapon she'd like to maim you with? You'll never learn until you talk to her. Come now, let's go. There's a lonely lady in the kitchen, waiting to be entertained."

"This won't go well."

"Not unless you try."

Loki stared at his cold soup and then across the variety of food on the table. Fandral held his breath. Loki rose from his seat. "Lead the way."

/

/

Jane held her fork from her face and examined it with intrigue. It looked like an Earth fork, but more eccentric. Swirls and tiny designs, unlike ones from home, were etched into the handle and the spokes were strangely curled at the end. She never wondered about the motif of forks before, but this was an Asgardian fork. A smile lit her face. She was in Asgard. The smile disappeared rapidly. She was in one of the most exclusive places not known to humans and she couldn't even enjoy it. Why did Loki have to become a Frost Giant and go loco? He was supposed to be locked up.

Placing the fork atop her stack of waffles, she looked up to see Sif and the spice shakers talking on the counter. She couldn't hear them, but she wasn't trying to. She wondered why they went through the trouble of making her something to eat. The thought couldn't be expanded on. The door opened. The one standing in the doorway caused her mind to seize up.

No one spoke a word. The room felt tight, suffocating. Red eyes, darker than blood, cut through the air. Sif made the first move.

"Loki, we have been waiting for you."

Jane stared at her. We have? She certainly wasn't waiting for him. She started thinking of ways to escape. She could make a mad dash for the door and try her luck in any of the unlocked rooms. Jane pushed those thoughts aside. No, she wouldn't run. Not from Loki. If she ran, then she'd be playing his game. He wanted to frighten her. That had to be his ploy. She'd show him. She'd sit right here on her flour sack and finish her waffles. He wasn't going to have control over her.

Loki turned to Sif who was sitting – or standing? – in front of a plate of what he surmised were 'waffles' and two spice shakers that stroke a familiar cord. He'd never understand the workings of the curse and its effect on everyone. "Lady Sif, your kindness has reached new bounds." He approached the counter. "I never knew you had the capability to tend for anyone, but yourself." Smiling in mock politeness, he picked up the plate and turned to where he had seen Jane sitting. He made a face. Why there of all places? He walked over to her, standing aside awkwardly as he tried to figure out where to sit. Jane was seated on a bag of flour, leaving his only options a sack of potatoes, another sack of flour or the floor. None of these were favorable, but opting to stand would make this more uncomfortable than it already was. Staring up from the floor at someone wasn't ideally romantic. "Wouldn't you rather sit in a chair?" he asked, half out of making conversation, half out of genuine curiosity. That didn't look comfortable at all.

Without looking up from her waffles, she mumbled, "No. I am content right here."

"Chairs are customarily what one sits on while consuming a meal."

"I wouldn't know what prisoners sit on." She looked up at him, but on seeing his red eyes and blue skin, she dropped her gaze. "What does it matter to you? You don't have to eat here."

The way she avoided looking at him didn't escape his notice. Swallowing back the bile in his throat, he said, "I choose to eat where I want and where I want is here." He lowered himself onto the sack of flour that was a few feet from Jane's, thinking it'd be more favorable than potatoes or the floor itself. "Rule two, or have you forgotten?"

"How can I forget?" she asked, lifting her head, keeping her gaze steady. "I don't know what you're planning, but you can forget your rules. I'm not playing."

Loki smirked bitterly. Then, remembering if he wanted out of this skin, he had to at least try to be hospitable, he said, "Lady Jane, is all this a game in your eye? Is it impossible to fathom that I merely wish the company?"

That was what Fandral said earlier, she recalled, when he was talking to her about Loki. Had the candlestick talked to him beforehand about this? If so, then why? What was all of this? She didn't know and she didn't care to find out. "The candlestick isn't enough for you?" Looking back at her plate, she took a bite of her waffle, trying to enjoy them, and ignored the shift in atmosphere.

He hadn't touched his waffles. His red gaze focused solely on her. "Objects do not compare to someone real." Then he added, slyly, "Or someone with your beauty." That had to be one of his most boldfaced lies yet. There had been an assortment of others whom he had in his company whose beauty outshone hers no question. It was to be expected. She was only mortal. An average mortal. The mortal who was his only chance. The thought made his stomach churn. He was not relying on a mortal for help. It was pathetic. He was manipulating one into helping him. That was better.

Jane coughed, bringing the back of her hand to her mouth to keep from spitting everywhere. She didn't hear that. No, she definitely heard that. Loki, kneel-for-me-Loki, used the word 'beauty' and he used it to refer to her. Placing her fork on her plate, she stared at him and realized he hadn't taken his blood red gaze from her the whole time. His waffles were untouched. "Don't… don't say things like that." Her head was shaking side-to-side before she finished the sentence.

"Why not? You are beautiful. I only speak the truth."

Fandral, standing next to Sif, grinned. "Aha! Look at him. He's a natural. He's doing wonderful."

"He's failing," she muttered.

Fandral looked at her in surprise. "Hold your tongue. He's doing excellent. The curse will be lifted by tonight."

"The truth coming from a liar's tongue is only a lie," Jane bit out, her unease evident on her face.

"Ahhhh…" Fandral winced. "Love is a mystery."

"There's no mystery. She hates him."

"Love blossoms from the flames of hatred."

"Or the fire burns everything."

"You take the fun out of this." Fandral pouted.

"I didn't realize there was fun to be had under this curse."

"You must admit, this is fun." He gestured towards the two sitting on flour sacks, one glaring openly while the other doing his best to hide his glare under a fake smile. "When have you ever seen Loki willingly sit on flour?"

"I'll give you that one."

"There are exceptions to the liar's mouth," Loki told Jane easily.

"I wouldn't know the difference between a lie and a truth," she shot back, popping another piece of waffle into her mouth.

"Not many do."

Jane clanked her fork against her plate. When she looked down, she realized she ate all of her waffles. Standing up, she said, "I think I'll go to bed now."

Loki stood, too, holding his plate of untouched waffles. "So, shall I." Placing the plate on the counter, he waited to the side as Jane followed suit, placing her plate next to his.

"Thank you," she said to the teapot and spice shakers.

"I'll escort you to your room," Loki said.

"That's fine. I'll find it on my own," Jane said in a rush.

"Let me come with you," Sif offered. "The palace can become confusing."

Glancing at Loki, Jane said, "See? She can take me. You don't have to worry."

He forced a smile. "So, be it."

As Sif led Jane down the corridor, Loki watched until their forms disappeared. Once gone, he began towards his own chambers.

"Well, I guess that was the first date."

Loki halted, rigidly. Turning to the candlestick at his side, he asked, flatly, "You're calling that a date?"

The candlestick shrugged. "I'm counting anything I can get. Now let's plan for the next one."

Loki sighed, heatedly. "What makes you think there's going to be a next one?"

Waving a candleholder dismissively, Fandral said, "No, no, Loki. Of course, there will be a next one. She can't hide in her room forever. And she let you sit with her. That's a start, isn't it?"

Shaking his head, Loki resumed walking down the hall.

Fandral hopped after him. They strode in silence for a while. Then he said, "I've been thinking-"

"Don't harm yourself," hissed Loki.

Ignoring the comment, he continued, "Jane seems more comfortable with you."

Loki rolled his eyes. "We sat on flour sacks, eating Midgardian food. She wouldn't let me escort her to her room."

"Exactly. Much more comfortable."

"She hasn't been here a day."

"Right. And you should speed things up. Maybe try to sort of kind of see that you think about the possibility of..." Getting quiet, he whispered, "kissing her."

Loki wavered in his stride, but regained composure before it became noticeable. "Is your brain melting from that lit wick?"

"I'm just saying. Experiment a little - see if she'll let you kiss her."

"She's not going to let me kiss her. Why would she when I look like this?"

"Maybe a Vanir kiss wouldn't do well in this situation, but..." He paused, thinking. "Actually, if you're a really good kisser, maybe she'll reconsider being romantic with you."

Loki abruptly turned, saying, "I'm not having this discussion with you."

Fandral frowned, shouting, "Your room is this way." He started hopping after him. "Alright. Alright. No kiss. How about you hold hands?"

"No."

"Stroke her hair."

"Creepy, old men do that."

"You're in luck." Fandral smirked. "You're well over 'old' in her sense." He stopped when he saw Loki's fierce glare. Hurried, he said, "Kidding! Kidding! What about-"

"Fandral, enough," Loki shouted, stopping sharply in front of the candlestick, staring down at him. "I'm doing this my way."

"I'm only lending an experienced hand."

"An experienced hand that only knows meaningless love. It's a curse, Fandral - I doubt I'll get away with petty infatuation."

"Tell me how you really feel."

Loki glared at him a moment longer before walking away, leaving the candlestick alone in the hallway.

Fandral scoffed, "Petty infatuation?" He shook his head. "I know that there have been many women in and out of my life, but surely not all were petty infatuation. Loki… he… he does not know what he talks about." He stood in the midst of the hallway, uncertainty plaguing his words.

/

/

Shuffling around the banquet hall, Fandral began wondering about what other 'dates' Loki could take Jane on. There could be flowers here. Oh, and dim lighting around this area. Now what he really needed was something flashy. But, what?

The sound of porcelain clinking tiles caught his attention. Sif approached him.

"Lady Sif," he greeted.

"How is Loki? What did he do after we left?"

"He seems set on ignoring my advice. I gave him gold and he threw it away."

She snorted derisively. "I can't say I'm surprised."

Fandral looked at her. "What does that mean?"

"You're not exactly one who forms long lasting relationships."

"That is untrue. I can. I choose not to."

She smiled. "I can believe that."

He eyed her slyly. "And there is one lady who I have had a substantially long relationship with."

Sif turned to him, confused, her brow furrowed. "Who? She must be the most enduring woman in Asgard to put up with you and how you chase after bar maids."

"Someone you're familiar with."

She scoffed in disbelief. "Now I know you're bluffing. I think I would notice if you always had a particular lady clinging to you."

Fandral smirked, continuing, "She is cunning and brave. She takes action. She doesn't sit around and let things pass her. She's also kind when times call for it, though she sometimes is too prideful to admit it."

"This lady sounds like she could do a lot better than you."

Fandral smiled. "That's certainly true. And yet there's more to this enchanting lady. She's the best sword fighter in all of Asgard, second to Thor."

"Impossible," Sif exclaimed. "I am the best..." She trailed off as she stared at him. "You're talking about me?"

Smiling, he nodded. "That's right. Our friendship. That's a relationship. And I must be doing something right to keep you from running away from me all these years."

A laugh slipped from her mouth in spite of herself. "Yes," she admitted. "You keep me by a thread. A very, very thin thread, but it keeps me from running away, screaming." She shook her head. "I'm going to check on, Jane." Beginning to turn down the hall towards the mortal's room, she added, "Good night."

"Good night."

It wasn't until Sif was gone and a few hours later that Fandral realized that his initial teasing comment about their friendship was the truth. He did find her as a special, particular lady in his life. One he could not win the affections of. One who fawned over another. In that moment, he realized the truth he had been hiding from all those years, all those times he noticed her smile, all those times he felt a small, insignificant pang when her lips spoke of Thor. Fandral had a small, teapot-shaped mark on his heart and no amount of other women could ever wipe it away.

/

TALE AS OLD AS TIME... no? Not yet? Not after that date.