Chapter 12:
Jane never would have thought to call Loki, Norse god of Mischief and Lies, a clothes whore.
But that's about the only term she can think up as she sits here, watching him come out of the dressing room, decked out in what must be his tenth outfit, turning with his arms spread wide and asking her what she thinks.
What she thinks is that this is insane, and unreal, and all kinds of dangerous that she just doesn't want anything to do with, at all.
Loki, after asking her what they should do that day, hadn't even given her a chance to answer before his face had lit up in a ridiculously wide grin and he'd announced that they should "go to market".
Jane, using logic, had told him that was an unspeakably bad idea, and proceeded to list about a million and one reasons for why, chief among them being he would be recognized, and when that happened, they'd both be screwed.
And he had simply shaken his head, smile never fading, and then he'd… he'd…
Well, he'd shape-shifted, for lack of a better term.
Jane had stood, watching in paralyzed astonishment, as his entire face and form had changed into an entirely different person.
He had lost about three inches off his height. His hair had shortened even further, and had faded from an impossibly pitch black to a raspberry blonde, from straight and slicked back to curly and messy.
His lips had grown fuller, and his jaw had squared, face shifting from long and lean to wider and harder, brow ridge growing more pronounced, and nose more crooked. His vivid green eyes had changed to a light blue, and a goatee the same shade as his hair had sprouted along his face. And he was left standing in a pair of worn out looking jeans and a t-shirt, covering a frame decidedly more stocky and thick than his true build.
The entire process had taken less then a few seconds, and Jane had been left, standing across from a complete stranger.
Except for the eyes.
It was in Loki's eyes, you could see it was still him. Still with that disconcerting intelligence, shining brilliantly, bright and alive, in a way Jane still couldn't quite understand, or believe.
He had smirked at her, and reached out an arm, offering "shall we", spoken in a voice as utterly changed as his appearance. A common, Brooklyn accent coming through, and Jane, still to her embarrassment, had actually jerked in startlement, and Loki had laughed.
And now here they were, and Jane is growing twitchy.
She swears, Loki is like a woman in how much he loves to shop for clothes.
He's switched back to his normal form in the privacy of the dressing rooms.
"Well?" He asks, standing there in a beautifully cut designer suit. They're in Sacks Fifth Avenue, and everything he's tried on thus far has been Armani, or Valentino or some other insanely overpriced fashion giant label.
"You look great." She answers blandly, and Loki frowns.
"You've hardly taken note." He says, sounding… disappointed?
Jane blinks.
And then she sighs, running her hands over her face. Jesus, how long have they been here?
"Loki," she begins, unable to keep the edge of annoyance out of her tone. "what is that, like, the twentieth suit you've tried on?"
"Seventh." He says.
"Whatever." She snaps back. "Look, you'd look good in a plastic bag. Seriously. Why are you even asking me what I think?"
"The critical eye of a woman is invaluable in judging one's appearance." He replies, as though the answer is obvious. "I would value your opinion."
Jane throws her hands up.
"Loki, look, you're gorgeous! Okay?! You look fucking beautiful! Like you've looked beautiful in everything you've tried on for the past hour and a half or whatever it's been. Can we just get out of here now?"
And like a blanket being thrown across his face, the god's expression goes blank, and then there is the briefest flash of what Jane thinks is rage, glittering in his eyes, and for an instant, her heart hammers painfully in her chest.
"Do not mock me, Jane Foster." He says, voice icily calm and cold.
"… What?" Jane blinks, confused.
And Loki is standing stiffly now, rigid. Almost… guarded.
"I know my own appearance, Jane Foster. You need not antagonize me for it. I have had well enough of that for centuries."
Jane's brow furrows, confusion only deepening.
"Loki, what are you even tal…"
"I know I am not Thor." He cuts her off, voice sharp and angry.
And suddenly it dawns on her, and she feels her heart sink, and her stomach twist in sickened knots.
"Loki…" she breaths quietly, looking at him seriously. Her head shakes. "I wasn't making fun of you."
He's glaring back at her, eyes narrowed in obvious mistrust, and she feels her heart sink further, her throat tighten.
What happened to him, she wonders, to have made him like this? To have made him so defensive, so suspicious?
To believe when someone pays him a compliment, that they can only be playing some cruel joke?
She recalls, suddenly, some of the things said by both brothers on their journey before. Thor telling her with regret thick in his voice that he wasn't a good brother. Loki accusing him and his friends with ragged resignation of purposefully causing him humiliation for their own glorification.
Loki doesn't believe her.
She can see it in his eyes.
Usually so impossible to read, to see anything but a blank nothing in.
She can see so much, so plainly now.
And without thinking, she stands from her chair, stepping forward and reaching out. Her hand finds his, thin fingers curling round the cool, pale skin of his palm as she looks directly up at him.
She feels him stiffen further, and a flash of confusion rushes across his expression, before he schools it into that familiar blankness.
"Loki," she says softly. "I'm not making fun of you. Okay? I swear. You really, really look beautiful. You look amazing."
He's looking at her like he doesn't understand the words coming out of her mouth. Like she's speaking some language he doesn't know, and she feels a horrible urgency to make him believe.
"Loki, how can you not see what you look like?" She asks in nearly a whisper. "You're so handsome."
And then he's gently shaking her grip loose from him, and stepping back, shaking his head.
He smiles, but the expression is frail, false.
"Of course." He says, and the usual, impossible confidence of his voice seems utterly vanished. Jane thinks she hears a tremor run beneath, and she reaches a hand up again, watching as Loki takes another step away. "I shall…" he pauses. "I shall gather my selections and we may depart, as you wish."
And then he turns, and disappears back into the dressing room, closing the door behind him.
Jane's arms falls, limp at her side, and she wonders what the hell she did wrong.
/
They make it back to Jane's apartment a short while later, several bags in tow, Loki carrying them all.
Jane's eyes had gradually grown wide in alarm as the cashier had wrung them up, and she'd eventually turned to Loki and told him that there was no way she was paying for any of it, and she hoped he realized that.
Loki had only laughed softly and proceeded to produce a wad of hundred dollar bills from his pocket.
Jane is almost afraid to ask where he got the money from, because she knows he doesn't have a job.
Standing outside her apartment door as she fumbles for her keys, she glances sideways at him, noticing he's rummaging through his acquired lot of new clothes, and faint smile on his face.
"So," she begins. "where, uh… where'd you get all that cash?"
Loki stops, looking up at her a moment with a clear expression of incomprehension.
Jane stares back, blinking.
"You know," she says. "the money you bought your clothes with."
And his eyes light with understanding, smiling wide.
"Ah." he says. And she watches as he waves his hand, another stack of hundreds appearing in his palm, seemingly out of thin air.
Jane gazes a moment, bemused, before her eyes flit up to his face, and she stammers…
"Wais a second. You didn't just… did you magic that money? I mean… what the hell do you call it? Conjure?"
His widening grin tells her all she needs to know, and she begins shaking her head.
"Loki, no, you… you can't do that! Are you serious? You can't just make money! Do you know how illegal that is?"
He looks at her as though he doesn't know at all, smile slipping slightly from his face, and Jane growls in frustration, returning to digging through her bag, muttering about how much trouble she's going to get in with him around.
"Indeed," she hears him say. "god of mischief, and all of that."
She looks up at him, mouth agape, the smile firmly back in place upon his lips.
"Oh my God," she breathes, finally finding her keys and pulling them out, focusing on undoing the doors lock.
"Precisely." Loki says, and Jane grits her teeth.
"By the way," he continues as she turns the lock and begins to push the door open. "it would appear we have company."
"What?" Jane asks, stopping partway through opening the door, and Loki nods his head towards it.
"There is someone in your apartment." He explains, and Jane's entire frame goes rigid, stomach dropping in fear.
"What do you mean?" She asks, voice edging on frantic. "You mean, like, somebody from SHIELD, or…"
Loki shakes his head.
"The decidedly non-hostile, though aggravating presence from yesterday." He says. "But I know her not. You perhaps would be better qualified in determining her level of threat."
Jane blinks, trying to remember, and then her eyes go wide.
"Darcy!?" She asks, and Loki only looks at her in confusion.
And at that moment, she hears her friend's voice, drifting towards them from the other side.
"Jane!?" She calls.
"Oh, Jesus." Jane breathes, hand tightening on the doors knob. "What are we going to do?"
"Jane?" Darcy's voice is suddenly closer, and at once, the door is being tugged from the other side, and Jane feels an irrational need to pull it back shut.
But she lets it go, bracing for the reaction. Loki stands beside her, seemingly utterly unconcerned.
And then Darcy is standing there, her eyes on Jane only an instant before she's staring up at the god, eyes round and wide in shock, mouth hung open.
Loki smiles at her, and she starts, gaze shifting back to Jane.
"Uh, okay…" she says. "what the effing hell?"
/
Loki sits on the couch, staring back as Jane's odd little friend sits crouched in front of him, staring in return. His hands are placed, relaxed along his thighs, expression a mask of nothing as Darcy's eyes narrow in scrutiny, as though that will somehow allow her to see past it and through him.
Jane is somewhere in the background, pacing restlessly with her cell cradled against her ear, gesticulating wildly as she talks to someone on the other end, voice edged in agitation.
They'd all stared at each other for long seconds out in the hallway, before Jane had abruptly grabbed him by the hand and unceremoniously dragged him into the apartment, pushing Darcy in with them and slamming the door closed.
Loki wonders idly if this will be a common sort of occurrence. Jane dragging him around like some stuffed child's toy. For some reason he can't fathom, it doesn't bother him.
Loki is motionless, and he can see Darcy beginning to fidget.
He's never lost a staring contest, and there have been many he's stared off against.
Finally, she blinks, and stands.
"Sooooo…" she begins. "You're, like, Thor's brother, aren't you?"
Loki's lips pull into a thin line, and Jane chooses that moment to hang up.
"Darcy!" She chides.
"I am Loki of Asgard." Loki replies, voice tight and controlled and thick with warning. "Prince and once King of the Realm Eternal. I am a god and a sorcerer of great power. A scholar and a trickster and a liar. I am many things. I once was related to Thor the Thunderer if not by blood, then in bond, but no longer either. I do not associate with him any longer."
Darcy blinks again, staring back at him for long moments, before finally, she lets out a long whistle, as though impressed.
"Wow, so… sibling rivalry, huh?"
Loki frowns, and Jane grabs Darcy's hand, tugging her back a step, hissing her name sharply.
"What!?" Darcy says, confused.
"Your friend is without proper etiquette." Loki says, eyes moving to Jane.
"I know, I'm sorry." Jane replies, clearly embarrassed. "Darcy, you're being rude."
"What, just cause I ask the guy a few questions?" Darcy protests, pulling her hand free from Jane's grip. "The same guy who almost blew up New York!"
"Oh my God, Darcy!"
And like that, the direction of conversation switches.
Loki's brow furrows, head cocking curiously to the side.
"Why do you swear to a singular god?" He asks, seemingly totally unfazed by Darcy's accusation.
"What?" Jane asks, Darcy turning to look at Loki with her.
"You use the phrase often, 'oh my god'. But you know very well there is more than one of us. There are many. Why do you not then use the plural, 'oh my gods'?"
"Is this guy for real?" Darcy asks.
It takes a moment for Jane's brain to process everything that was just said.
"Uh," she starts, head shaking. "just… it… it's an expression. Most, um… most of the Western world believes in a single Christian God, and it's… it's become a common expression to… to swear to him when you're surprised or angry or… anything."
She trails off, unable to believe she's telling all of this to Loki.
"Christian god?" The trickster questions, brow furrowing.
"Yeah, you know, Jesus Christ." Darcy interrupts. "The actual God. I mean, if you believe and all."
"Pardon?" Loki asks. "Actual god?"
"Well, everyone knows you aren't really gods." Darcy says. "Right? You're just, like, super advanced alien beings or something."
Jane's eyes close and she cradles her head in her hands, feeling a headache coming on.
"We are gods." Loki says, firmly but oddly without defensiveness. "I assure you."
Darcy crosses her arms.
"But you're not all powerful." She argues.
Loki regards her silently a moment, smiling softly.
"You assume humanity's modern conception of what a god is to be absolute. You are wrong. There are many gods, of many things. Each of us holds dominion over a particular arena."
Darcy frowns, crossing her arms over her chest.
"Oh yeah?" She argues. "Then why is it if I pray to you, you don't answer? Shouldn't a god be able to hear a human's prayer?"
"You do not pray to any among us." Loki answers with a shrug. "If you did, and one who received such a prayer was feeling particularly generous, you would receive an answer. Though I must admit, none among the Aesir have opened themselves to hear prayers in many centuries. I suppose I was the last holdout. But then, I was always the only one who held any sort of strong interest in the affairs of mortals. When your people ceased to worship us and allowed us to fall into your myths and legends, those prayers became fewer and fewer, until even I saw little point in continuing. It has been perhaps three centuries since last I answered a human's beseeching cry."
Silence falls over the room then, Darcy and Jane staring bemused at Loki, Loki staring back at Darcy, expression implacable.
And then Darcy's eyes go wide, as though some sudden revelation has just befallen her, and she says…
"Get out of here! For real!? You can answer prayers? So, like, if I asked you for a boatload of money or something, you could give it to me?"
Jane feels her insides twist uncomfortably as what can only be described as a menacing grin spreads across the mischief god's face, and he answers…
"I have been known to grant the wishes of many a mortal, in bargains of fair exchange."
He holds out a hand to her, as though beckoning her forward.
"Would you care for a trade, Ms. Lewis?"
"Oooookaaaaay…" Jane intercedes, stepping between the two of them. "I think that's enough of that."
"What?" Darcy asks. "What! He wants to give me a whole bunch of money and solve my college tuition problems, I don't have a problem with that!"
Jane gives Darcy a death glare, and that shuts the political science major right up.
And then she sighs, and says in exasperation…
"Look, nobody's even supposed to know he's here."
"Well I'm nobody." Darcy answers, and Loki actually laughs.
Jane turns to look at him disapprovingly, and the god raises his hands in a gesture of innocence.
"'Twas well played Jane, even you must admit." He smiles at her.
And Jane can only growl in frustration, rolling her eyes to the heavens.
/
She tried to get Darcy to leave.
She really did.
But Darcy, bless her sentimental, sisterly, and completely idiot heart, insisted on staying. She told Jane it was because she was worried about her, and didn't trust her safety to a "crazy space Viking", as she so eloquently put it.
But in the several hours since she and Loki arrived back to her flat, and they'd all gotten over the initial issues of Darcy finding them out, the younger girl has done little but spend time with Loki. And Loki, to Jane's never ending confusion, seems almost to enjoy Darcy's company.
He certainly hasn't made any complaints yet.
Jane would have thought Darcy's often grating, intrusive, and loud behavior would be a huge turn off to the quiet, reserved and soft spoken god.
Currently, however, Jane is watching them from her kitchen table, the two of them sat on the floor in the center of her living room, across from one another, as Darcy shows and explains to Loki the wonder of her IPod, and its many amazing uses. The top of her head barely comes up to his shoulder, and they make the most odd pairing the physicist is sure she's ever seen.
Loki, beyond all reason, seems utterly fascinated.
"I just downloaded, like, a thousand songs onto it from my computer." Darcy's voice carries across the space loudly. "So much work, but so worth it." She goes on.
She's holding the device in the palm of her hand, scrolling through the list of artists, angling so that Loki can see what she's doing.
"See, its touch screen." She says, picking some random selection.
Loki's eyes light up as the tinny music begins to filter weakly out of the IPod's pathetic little speakers.
And then he's snatching the thing out of Darcy's hand and bringing it closer to his face, examining it as he turns it this way and that.
"Hey!" Darcy protests, trying to swipe it back, but Loki moves away.
"What manner of sorcery is this?" He asks. "I have never seen its like before." His eyes narrow suspiciously.
Darcy blinks.
"Huh… Duran Duran." She says.
Loki just looks at her a moment, clearly lost, before returning his attention to the device.
He begins playing with the screen.
"You better not break it bozo, or I'll make you buy me a new one, and replace all the songs."
If Loki hears her, he gives no indication.
Somehow, he manages to select a different track, and Jane thinks she can hear Madonna's "Like a Virgin" playing from it.
"Here…" Darcy says, pulling out her ear buds from her pants pocket. She reaches over, slipping the jack into place while Loki still holds the mp3 player, and then proceeds to lift one of the buds up to his ear, shoving it in without permission.
Jane would laugh at what happens next, if Loki didn't look so monumentally freaked out.
His eyes go wide in a startled expression, and he actually staggers back, falling onto his haunches before reaching up and ripping the bud almost violently from his ear.
Darcy is staring at him with her own look of astonishment, before suddenly, she bursts into laughter.
Loki looks anything but amused.
"Dude, you're worse than Thor!" She says, slapping her knee. "I didn't think it was possible! But you're, like, totally technology stupid, aren't you?"
"You call me dimwitted?" He returns, voice edged in warning. "Me? Loki, god of mischief and lies? I who is considered cleverest of the gods? I who is magic and fire and wit?"
Jane groans, letting her head fall to her hands on the table. She should be more concerned, she knows. But… really? This is her life?
Darcy is still giggling, shaking her head.
"Dude, no. It's just… it's hilarious to see you guys with our technology. You really don't have anything like this back on Asgard?"
Loki regards her for a moment silently, as though trying to determine the sincerity of her claim. And then, finally, slowly, he shakes his head.
"Dude, that's just sad." She answers. "You don't have music even?"
Loki blinks.
"We have music." He replies plainly.
"Well, what kind?" She presses.
Loki takes a moment to think.
"It is, perhaps, akin to what you mortals might call 'orchestral'. There are many fine musicians amongst the gods."
He pauses a moment, and Jane lifts her head, and she swears, for an instant, there is a brief hesitation in Loki's expression before he says, voice quiet and nearly shy.
"I play some myself." He says. "I have even…" that hesitation again, and Jane is convinced now Loki is actually embarrassed by what he's saying. "I have even featured in quartets to entertain the court, or celebratory feasts. Though… thought such is forbidden practice to one of my rank."
"What, you mean, like, you weren't allowed?" Darcy asks, astonished.
Loki shakes his head.
"I was forced to disguise myself if I wished to partake, I'm afraid."
Silence settles over the group for a long instant, Darcy and Jane both staring at the mischief god uncertainly.
And a familiar pang suddenly clutches inside Jane's chest, remembering back to the banquet, after the dark Elves had been defeated… the glaring omissions among the gathered warriors… how no one had made mention… no one had spoken of their disgraced Prince…
Even though it had been him… it had been him who'd saved them all…
Suddenly Loki is standing, smiling vaguely.
"The words this woman sings are uncouth." He says.
Darcy grins lopsided.
"Well, yeah." She says. "It's Madonna! That's not even her worst song!"
Loki nods, as if he has any idea of what Darcy is talking about, and then he says, utterly serious…
"I rather enjoy this music."
And without another word, he turns, walking off and disappearing into Jane's bedroom, Darcy's Ipod and ear buds still in his possession.
"Hey!" Darcy yells after him. "Hey, that's mine!"
But Loki pays her no mind at all.
/
AN: As always, thank you to everyone who's read and reviewed. I appreciate you beyond words. Hope you enjoyed this chapter, and if you get a chance, let me know your thoughts.
