More Than One Promise

For a.c. ryder …this was her idea, to have Fandral know something about the murders, and I forgot to credit her in the previous chapter. So, I thank you, Miss Ryder…and I hope I do this justice.

Too long too long too long…he was stalling…and Fandral's hand shook which held the blade. "I won't wait much longer, Wesley!" he yelled.

And then, his mother appeared, scared, unsure, and concerned. "Fandral?" she whispered. "What are you doing?" she was standing at the top of the stairs, clutching her dressing gown around her tightly.

"This doesn't concern you, mother. I need to speak with Wesley…"

"What have we here?" and the knave appeared, peering around his wife, then walking into the open. "Well well…little boy has come home."

"You," Fandral breathed. "You bastard. Get down here now so that I can talk to you face to face!"

Durlish was unfazed, and he sauntered down the stairs…"Have you come to kill me, Fandral?" he cooed.

Fandral ground his teeth and sneered. "You'd like to think so, wouldn't you? You think that you'd get away that easily? I know what you've done!"

Wesley stopped in front of him. "And what have I done?"

Fandral began to circle him, his knife to his side, at the ready. "You and your cronies sought out someone to do your dirty work. You sent someone out to gather organs for Stark!"

"Did I now?"

"Yes, you did. And you rape my mother."

"She is my wife," he spat.

"She loathes you! She hates everything about you! Do you think that she wants you to touch her?!"

"Fandral!" Lady Durlish screamed as she ran down the stairs…

"You…" he continued. "You don't know how to love…" Fandral breathed.

"And what do you know of it, boy?" he leered.

Fandral's mother reached her husband. "He's upset he's just upset don't listen to him…" she grabbed his arm, and he threw her to the floor.

That was all Fandral required. He took his knife, and grabbed Durlish's arm, twisted it so that he fell to his knees…"Touch her again…" he breathed. "And you'll lost something very very precious to you…" and the knife travelled from his throat down…he held his testicles by the rim of the knife. "I'll castrate you, you fucking cad. And I'll feed your balls to the dogs."

Durlish lost his smirk. "You wouldn't…"

"Oh no? I am desperate…and you murdered Mary…"

"Who?" and pearls of sweat began to trickle down his forehead.

"Mary Kelly."

"I swear…I've never heard of her…"

His grip tightened. "No? Well your scheme set this in motion, and whether or not you were the one who slit her throat, opened her up, tore apart her face, sliced off her skin or stole her heart, it is because you are a selfish, conniving, maniacal madman that she's dead," his grip slacked slightly. "And I loved her," he swallowed. "And you'll never tarnish anything that I love again." The knife brushed his genitalia…and Durlish whimpered…he looked to his wife.

"Get your son off of me," he hissed, his arm still bent ridiculously.

"No," and she stood, rubbing her face. "No, I don't think that I will. I've heard quite enough."

Fandral was momentarily paralyzed…had his mother really just told Wesley "No"…? "Mother?" he looked at her crookedly.

She swallowed. "Go Fandral…before this goes any further."

"Not without you," he said, kicking Durlish's feet out from under him, watching him fall to the floor, and pinning his arms while straddling him. "Tell me to kill him, and I will."

Wesley Durlish's countenance was panic-stricken. He squirmed…he cried out…

"You don't care about anyone but yourself…" Fandral began. "You have no regard for anyone…you think that those women were expendable…"

"What women?" Wesley cried.

"The women you killed…"

"I didn't…"

"You might as well have! You made it attractive to someone who's poor and ill to kill them! And you sent that person out there, and he killed…"

"Martha!" Durlish squealed, as Fandral pushed the blade into his testicles.

"…you took advantage of the poor. Allowing them to resort to murder to make money…someone unhinged thought that they could do it, get rich, perhaps…and who cares about the prostitutes? They are a blight on society…" he snarled. "You abuse my mother, you killed the woman I love…"

"Fandral," Lady Durlish whispered. "He didn't kill them. You cannot send him to jail."

"He may not have sliced them open, but he may as well have," and he lifted the knife to his stepfather's throat. "He encouraged it. Did nothing to stop it…he and Stark…I can send him to his grave."

"It's what he wants, dear. He wants to escape…and he would have the added bonus of you being imprisoned…hanged. Do not give him the satisfaction," she moved his hand away from her husband's throat.

Fandral glared at him, and taking his knife, slit the side of Wesley's face open…blood poured everywhere, and Fandral rose to his feet. "Stay away from us."

Fandral took his mother's hand and led her out of the house and into the night, now heavy with mist and moon.

Loki stretched and sighed. He opened his eyes and rolled onto his back.

And memories of the night previous flooded his mind.

He was engaged.

To Jane.

And he smiled…he would need to write to Frigga and Odin.

Loki swung his legs over the side of the bed and rubbed his face.

He wanted to see Jane…now.

Perhaps he could wake her….

and a devilish grin washed over his face…

Loki put on his dressing gown and went out of his room, closing the door behind him.

"Morning, Loki!" Dr Foster exclaimed.

"Oh!" he jumped, turned, and smiled. "Good…morning, Dr Foster…did you sleep well?'"

"Call me George. And yes. Slept wonderfully sound," he rocked on the balls of his feet, smiling.

"Excellent. Erm…" there went his plans. "I'll just go clean my teeth and then make some tea, hm?"

"Wonderful," and Dr Foster followed him into the kitchen. "Lovely house, Loki. You are very generous to open it up to Jane and I."

"Not at all," he put the kettle on in the hearth. Loki turned and spied Dr. Foster looking at him with the same face that Jane had when she knew he was going to help her find the killer…"Damn."

"What?"

"You know, don't you?"

"Know what?" false innocence seeping from his voice.

Loki folded his arms in front of him. "You know that I love your daughter."

"And I know that she loves you…" he smiled.

Loki's color changed. He nodded.

"…and I know that you are planning on asking me for permission for her hand, or, I daresay, you should be."

Loki's face fell, and he paled. "I…that is…of course I am…"

"Well, you have it, sir," and he went to Loki and shook his hand. "Take good care of her, son."

Loki swallowed, he paused, then he pulled Dr Foster into an embrace. "Of course I will."

"Now now," he laughed, pulling away. "Let's not get away from ourselves," and he patted Loki's arm.

"Apologies, Dr Foster. I simply…" he smiled, embarrassed. "I simply…I never had an ideal relationship with my own father."

"Well, you are to be my son. We can begin afresh," and he sat down.

Loki was positively beaming as Jane walked into the kitchen. "Good morning," she smiled.

"Jane!" said Loki. "Jane, I think that I ought to have your father move in permanently. He needs attention."

Jane smiled and looked from not to the other. "Erm…all right…but what about me?" she cocked a brow.

"Jane…dearest," began her father. "I know all about it," and he went over and hugged his daughter. "You will be very happy," he pecked her cheek. "And now, I believe I will go and have a look at your massive book collection. I always lamented my own paltry shelves."

Loki watched him go and turned to Jane. "He is a good man, Jane."

"That he is."

"He is unable to care for himself without help, is that not so?"

Jane poured tea for herself and Loki. "Well, I imagine it would be considerably more difficult, yes," she noted that her right hand was much, much better.

"Then he shall live with us," Loki proclaimed.

Jane snapped her eyes to him. "Truly, Loki?"

"Absolutely," and he went to her and wrapped his arms around her. "I will write to may family today," he nuzzled her ear. "And, if you like, retrieve some things from your house in Algate. Is there anything in particular you require?"

"My book."

He pulled away. "Your…?"

"The astronomy book you gave me. I should like it very much," she smiled.

He nodded and kissed her mouth. "You enjoyed it, then?" he went and obtained an apple. He would need to go to the market that day. Perhaps he could shop for a ring for Jane as well. Check on Fandral.

"It was the absolute best gift I've ever received," and she sat at the table in the adjacent dining room.

"How is your leg?" he sat next to her.

"Much better. Truly, only my left wrist hurts now."

Loki nodded. "I'll go out for a short while today, Jane. Would you like for me to stop at the apothecary? Put a sign in the window? Perhaps bring back some medicine for you?" he sipped his tea.

"Yes…" she began. She had hardly given the shop any thought at all…there was some money in there…she would need to think about going back to work. "When do you plan on returning to Asgard?"

"I hadn't given it much thought, Jane," and he hadn't. "My primary concern is you at the moment, and your safety. We must assume that the killer knows who you are."

"He does," she swallowed.

And Loki shifted uncomfortably. He hated this…"Quite. Therefore, I would like for you to be in constant company of someone…preferably myself…until he is caught."

"But what if he is never caught, Loki?"

"Well then. I suppose that I shall never let you out of my sight," he smiled.

"Never is a long time," and Jane rolled her eyes a touch.

"Oh I know. I lived 'forever' just a few nights ago, wandering the streets, convinced that you were…" he swallowed and looked away. He could not experience that again. He would not experience that again.

Jane took his hand and squeezed it. "I'm here," she smiled.

Loki returned her smile and nodded.

And she was. And she was safe…but the lingering doubt plagued his thoughts as he was unsure if he could adequately protect her. The villain was cunning. And he knew who she was…"Are you attached to the shop in any real sense, Jane?"

"Pardon?" her heart slowed…

"I mean to say…" and he leaned forward in his chair to better look at her. "Would you be averse to the idea of leaving London for the country? Odin, while he may not favor me, would certainly be happy to see to our comfort. He has long held the erroneous notion that I would never marry," he sat back and smiled to himself. "He will be pleased to learn of our engagement, and will want to ensure our safety, given the circumstances," Loki wasn't absolutely certain of these assertions, but he had, in recent weeks, began to view his father differently. Ever since Odin had pledged five hundred pounds toward the reward, he had come to think that he cared for his welfare in a very honest way.

"Do you mean it, Loki?" Jane breathed.

"Yes…" he looked crookedly at her. "Is that…something that you want, then?"

And she smiled broadly. "I could not love you more if I tried," she said. "You will take me from London's scents, have my father live with us…it's too much," her gaze dropped. "I'll be able to see the stars…"

"Well, I'm happy that you're pleased," and he stood. "Now, if you'll excuse me, Jane…I should like to be going. I have much to do, and need to be back before dark," he went to obtain his coat.

"So soon?" she stood.

"Now, love, the sooner I leave, the sooner I shall return," he went to her and kissed her mouth. "The sooner we can get to bed," he added softly in her ear.

Jane blushed and smacked his arm playfully. "You cad," she laughed.

He smiled and turned from her. "I'm heading for your house Dr Foster! Anything you require?" he flipped the collar up on his overcoat. He had abandoned his shorter jacket for the long one. The chill noticeably more potent.

"Not a thing, son," returned the doctor.

Loki smiled, winked at Jane and left.

Jane sighed and looked around. She should clean up a bit.

"He's a good fellow, that fiancee of yours," called in Dr Foster.

"I know," she replied softly. And she set about to clean the kitchen.

Loki strolled down towards Spitalfields with a bag full of things from the Foster's. Nothing had appeared to be out of sorts when he was there.

That was good.

He began to think in earnest about what to do with Jane.

She had agreed to move.

But Odin may require some time to find a suitable place.

Loki was deep in thought as he entered Asgard…

…and surprised to find Fandral there. "Fandral!" he exclaimed, and dropping the bags, went to him. "How are you?" he hugged him soundly.

"Awful," and he pulled away.

"Indeed. I am so very sorry. I've been seeing to Jane and her father."

Fandral shrugged. "It's deserted, Loki. The murder," he looked away. "Has shocked everyone beyond words…"

Loki nodded. He had noticed the lack of people around. "Is there anything that I can do?"

Fandral paused. "Well, if you are taking care of Jane, then perhaps you can give me more work…I can open and such. I need the money, as I have my mother living with me now," he folded his arms across his chest and sat on his stool behind the counter.

"Your mother? Isn't she married to that Durlish fellow?" he came back in with two cups of brew.

Fandral sneered. "In name, yes."

"What does that mean?" he sipped.

"Oh, Loki! What a mess…" Fandral sipped the hot brew and set it down. He supposed he should come clean. "My stepfather was the one who initiated the interest in human organs."

"Pardon?"

"He knows Anthony Stark. He began a search for someone who might be able to procure human organs for Stark in America. He isn't the killer…" he saw Loki's visage darken. "I don't think that he knows who it is. But he started this whole thing, I'm positive."

The coffee was pouring out of his cup while he stood there in shock.

His fault.

Wesley Durlish.

Sexual deviant.

Friends with Lusk.

His fault…

He threw his cup to the floor, shattering it. "Come, Fandral…we need to visit your stepfather."

"I…" Fandral began to issue a protest.

"Not a word. We go. Now."

And they left after Loki locked the door.

"Is he home?"

"No idea," Fandral wasn't keen on this idea at all. He had said everything that needed saying.

"How far?"

"Just under a mile…" Fandral struggled to keep up. "Loki…I have already threatened him…"

"Yes…and if he has any idea who the murderer is, then Jane is safe. You do realize that Jane is in mortal danger? That the killer knows who she is?"

Fandral's pace slowed. "I…" he hadn't, but yes…it made sense. "I'm sorry, Loki. Perhaps I should have said something earlier."

"Yes, you should have," they rounded a bend. "But there is no point on dwelling on it," besides, Fandral had lost infinitely more than Loki. And Loki was not about to suffer so great a loss. "When this meeting is concluded, Fandral, I'd like you to help me in the Market. We needn't open Asgard today…no one is about, anyway," he concluded softly.

They reached the home of Lord Durlish, and Loki pounded on the door.

"He might have a weapon," warned Fandral…"I was rather crazed last evening when I was here."

"Open up, Durlish! Open now, or I will have the whole of Scotland Yard here in moments!" Loki yelled.

The doorknob began to turn, and Loki seized his chance and pushed himself into the house.

Wesley Durlish was on the other side of the door, wide-eyed and breathing heavy. "Why are you here?"

Loki grabbed his shirt, pulled him up, and threw him against the wall. "Who is he?" he snarled, never letting go of his shirt.

Fandral was right behind him, making certain that Durlish wasn't concealing a weapon.

"Who is who?" he whimpered.

"The killer…the one you sent on this morbid mission," he pulled him away and threw him against the wall once more. "Tell me!"

"I don't know!" Durlish was shaking.

"Liar," he spat, and threw him to the floor like a rag. "You miserable excuse for a human being," he kicked him in the stomach. "You had better tell me whom you hired. I'm not a terribly patient man. Nor am I as skilled with a knife as I should like. Perhaps I'll have my fiancee here to open you up. She is quite adept with a knife…as an apothecary, she requires such expertise. And she would dearly love to exact some revenge after her ordeal at the hands of the murderer."

"I hired no one! I swear to you…I know nothing…"

"You know a great deal more than you are letting on," whispered Loki menacingly.

"No…no…I swear…" he backed away. "Fandral…tell him…"

Fandral was next to Loki, looking down on him. "He doesn't know, Loki. Allow him to rot here."

Loki stood more erect, staring at the mouse, cowering in the corner in a fetal position.

"You shall leave London, or I shall see to your death. Understand?"

He nodded.

"You are to stay away from Fandral and myself…if I see you, I shall end you."

Durlish nodded again.

"You have one week to vacate the city. In the meantime, you are to report to Scotland Yard everything that you know," Loki turned. "I shall be aware of noncompliance," he said with his back to him. "And will act accordingly," and he left.

Fandral left, following Loki. "Will you really kill him, Loki?"

No answer.

"Are you truly engaged to Jane…?"

At this he looked, he smiled, and nodded.

"Ah! Well. Congratulations."

"I was rather hoping that you could aid me today in the market, Fandral. I require some provisions…as well as a ring…and haven't enough food for five."

"Five? For dinner, you mean? Are you having guests?"

"Well," and they rounded onto Spitalfields. "There's myself and Jane. Dr Foster," he paused, and looked inside at the grocer's to see if they were opened, and then turned to him. "And yourself and your mother…I'll need to alert my cook," and he went inside.

And Fandral smiled, following him.