Jane had seen Tony Stark before, obviously. The man's face had been on the cover of pretty much every magazine out there at one point or another, whether for his wealth, his personal life, or for his advances in science and technology. Never one to be impressed by glossy visuals at the check-out line, Jane had assumed that the piercing gaze and general aura of fierceness was the product of Photoshop.
It isn't so.
Dramatic entrance complete, he levels that challenging stare that Jane recognizes from the magazines onto her, daring her to complete the sentence that she hadn't actually thought she'd need to complete. "Well?" he demands, "Are you going to finish that thought?"
On the spot, overwhelmed, and terrified, Jane can only stare at Stark like a deer caught in headlights. Luckily, she isn't completely alone.
"Excuse me," Embra cuts in, her eyes flashing dangerously as she steps up to Tony Stark, leveling her own dark eyes onto him, "I'm starting to feel like I'm not the centre of attention here, and that's a problem for me." Arms crossed in a way that accentuates the low-cut neckline of the bustier-cut, black mini dress she wore despite Jane's objections, the seemingly teenaged girl stands toe-to-toe with one of Earth's most powerful men. Jane supposes he must like the view, because his eyes drag slowly up and down Embra's figure before settling on her face, which has set into a discontented pout.
"And you are?" he prompts, his tone only fractionally less abrupt, though curiosity colours it.
"Second daughter of Surtur the Destroyer, First Emperor of Muspellheim and lord of darkness eternal; sister to Phyre the Wicked, Reigning Empress of Muspellheim," she rattles off the condensed list of titles with ease as she feigns a blistering smile, "But you may call me Embra, Princess of Muspell."
For a moment, Stark seems to stare through her. His eyes flash to the second young female, Bryn, who can barely meet his gaze and smiles only weakly. For a moment, a calculating expression crosses his features as his eyes slide over Jane. "So you're friends of Thor, then?" he says, addressing Embra even before his gaze falls fully back upon her.
"In a manner of speaking," she spits back. "Now aren't you going to offer me a drink?"
"Of course I am," he gestures into his office, "I hope you like scotch."
"No," Embra smirks, "You hope I like scotch."
"Oh brother," Jane hears herself mutter, earning her a sympathetic look from Rogers who rather gallantly offers a hand to help her up from the seat she's been occupying for the better part of the afternoon. Jane shakes her head, grateful for the gesture, but embarrassed by it nonetheless. She is already knee-deep in the process of deceiving these men, these heroes of Earth. She can't quite stomach pretending to be a lady on top of it.
He shrugs at her, turning to offer the hand to Bryn instead. Bright eyes gaze up into his as she accepts. In the fourteen or so hours that Jane has actually known the two fledgling goddess-types, she has come to realize that of the two, Bryn is the one who stirs up the least trouble. It doesn't make her harmless though. Most eyes are drawn to Embra. The fact that a handsome man like Steve Rogers sees Bryn at all is one that will likely lead to nothing good.
Which is, unfortunately for Jane, not an undesirable outcome. She has spent the past fourteen hours convincing the two girls that visiting the Avengers is an excellent idea and that pretending to have been brought by Thor, rather than Loki, is their ticket in. Into what exactly, Jane has been vague. But she has promised parties and handsome men and exciting adventures, gesturing vaguely to Internet articles and news reports about the group. The girls have seized onto it with all the infectious energy of sorority sisters, falling in line only upon seeing photos of these exact men and agreeing to the subterfuge only after torturous laughter over the fact that their so-called chaperone once failed to take over this very planet, having been defeated by the very people they were about to go befriend.
She's still in a tricky position. The girls need to stay somewhat happy to keep their cover going. Their fear of Loki is rather eroded at this point, after all. Jane sighs and willingly closes her eyes to the blatant moment of discovery that is happening in between the two pairs of blue eyes that are lingering for just a moment too long in the waiting room behind her. She feels vaguely nauseous. At least Captain America is rumoured to be single.
Whatever is happening in front of her, however, is hard to ignore. Embra is smirking, sharp teeth visible as her lips hover over the lip of a rocks glass filled with scotch, and Stark seems to be somewhat riveted to the scene. Her tail twitches impatiently, drawing his attention away from her dangerously red lips. "You have a tail," he remarks, sounding surprisingly stupid for a genius, in Jane's opinion.
"She's a fire demon," Jane hears herself say, irritation flooding her voice, "What exactly do you expect?"
She sounds harsh even in her own ears, and she isn't surprised that Embra gives her a dirty look or that Stark looks confused by her. His eyes don't focus on her, however, settling onto a space behind and above her.
"Thor didn't visit her after the thing with Loki," Rogers offers from behind her and Jane knows now just where Stark's eyes went.
She feels a swirl of rage rise up within her gut, bile-like and nasty. Accompanying the emotion is the reassuring swell of magic around her, drawn in by her own feelings. She pull it inwards like a warm blanket. "It really doesn't matter what Thor did," she retorts, an uncharacteristic wobble in her voice. She knows its her nerves. She hopes they assume its her broken heart.
"Doesn't it?" Stark challenges her, his eyes surprisingly kind despite the question. "I'm assuming that this current situation," he gestures around the room with a glass of scotch, "Is his doing, after all?"
Jane smiles weakly, feeling uncannily out of her depth. The whole thing is going just fine, from an objective view. It just feels like a disaster.
"Here, Doctor Foster," Rogers supplies, moving from behind her to pull out a chair for her.
"It's just Jane," she protests quietly, settling into the chair anyway, even as Stark seems to get comfortable half-perched on the edge of the massive wood desk that dominates the room. Embra stands her ground in front of the desk, her eyes sparking displeasure as the attention is dragged back to Jane.
Jane sighs, "Yesterday," she begins, "Thor showed up, with these two…"
"Really, Doctor Foster?" Stark interrupts, a disbelieving look on his features, "I am a scientist."
Jane really smiles at that, because she has prepared this. The official statement is written in her mind as surely as her journal kept track of the first time Asgardians had fallen into life.
"This instance was," Jane pauses for effect, "Strange. Unlike the previous times I've encountered Thor, there was no atmospheric disturbance, no spike in energy readings, nothing to suggest the use of an Einstein-Rosen Bridge. But," she raises her finger knowingly, "I've understood that none of those things accompanied his last appearance on Earth either."
Stark shares a knowing look with Rogers overtop of her head, and Jane already knows she is going to find this habit of Stark's annoying. "There was one thing," he says, a bit grandly, as if he's trying to catch out her lie.
Jane reminds herself that there's been nothing yet to give away the game. If she keeps it cool, this will all work. "A thunder storm," she finishes for him, eyes locked. "Not even that this time. But he seemed different. Rushed. And worried."
"Asgard is under attack," Embra adds airily, swirling the ice in her glass with nonchalance. "My sister and I were there at the time," she adds quietly, her eyes meeting Jane's. There's a sick feeling in the pit of Jane's stomach. She asked Embra to stay quiet during this part, and she isn't at all certain what she's intending to add to the conversation.
"Negotiating a marriage agreement," Embra finishes, taking a small sip from the glass. There's pity in her eyes, and Jane feels a roaring in her ears. There's something in Embra's expression that tells her that the girl isn't lying. Something sad that screams at Jane in warning. She swallows hard, her throat constricting against itself.
"You didn't know that," Stark concludes from her reaction. He rises slowly from the desk, "That's important then."
Embra nods. "My sister is seeking to unite kingdoms," she says quietly, in a tone that suggests disagreement, and apology.
"Well," Rogers says heavily from the space behind her, "That seems…" She can hear the pity in his voice and it grates on her nerves.
"Explains why Thor didn't drop by and visit, huh?" Stark adds with all the tact of a man who doesn't really care. Jane lifts her eyes to his and realizes that there's a hint of sympathy there, despite the words. It's as if the emotional life of this man has no connection to the things that leave his mouth.
"Right," she says weakly. There's something sitting wrong with all this, however, and its eating away at her. Because Phyre isn't some kindly empress trying to find a good husband, she's the evil bitch who seized Asgard while Thor was gone. And Thor is in a dungeon. It's the other brother who's running around free.
"So, basically," Stark takes control, ignoring the growingly distant look in Jane's expression, "Thor shows up, worried about these attacks on Asgard, leaves these two with you, to bring to us, so they're protected. Got that," he pauses, looking at Bryn. "Who are you?"
"Vanir princess," Bryn murmurs.
"Okay, so you're both leverage," Stark gestures at the two girls, still stolidly ignoring Jane and the emotional turmoil that must be written across her face, though in their minds its all for Thor. He paces now, the ice cubes in the glass tinkling as the scotch sloshes around. He turns on his heel very suddenly and leans down to stare Jane in the face, "I'm sorry, I know you're having one of those romcom crises where the heroine finds out her would-be boyfriend is engaged to an alien empress, but I really need you to focus right now. What exactly does Loki have to do with any of this? And think really hard, cause its kind of important."
Jane slaps Stark before she can fully process his words. She has a doctorate degree in astrophysics, and while she might not be a genius prodigy, she's not an idiot. She doesn't need Stark pretending that she is one.
There's a long moment where Stark's face hovers in her vision, his face turned from the shocked force of the hit. "Alright," he says quietly, "I probably deserved that. Still need you to focus."
"Loki didn't get locked up," she tells him with as little emotion in her voice as she can muster. "Wherever he is, it isn't Asgard."
"That's just great," Rogers mutters.
"And that's what we get for trusting in alien judgment," Stark finishes, a bitter smile on his lips. He looks at her, "Let me guess, he's the one heading the attacks?"
"In a manner of speaking," Jane replies, her eyes still glittering with fury and her tone choppy.
"And he just might be after these two," he concludes, pulling himself up and smiling at the two girls. "It's nice to meet you, ladies," he nods, "Welcome to Avengers Tower. Make yourselves comfortable."
Jane is too irritated to even groan when Embra winks shamelessly at Stark. This whole idea is just awful.
The rooms Stark gives them are nice. The nicest Jane's ever had, actually. The fact that there are condo-like suites built into several floors of the tower isn't new to her, she's seen bits and pieces of the entertainment reports about the building from back when it was just Stark's ego project. That this was the goal of her plan isn't beyond her either. She's just never taken the time to think about what a multi-billionaire's guest condos would look like.
The overarching theme is apparently open-concept. The kitchen, a work of art in steel and stone, flows seamlessly into a dining area and a living room larger than Jane's entire lab. She spends barely a moment lingering in the space, however, even as Embra begins raiding a tray of alcoholic beverages and Bryn settles onto a white leather chaise lounge with a sigh. "Why haven't we been anywhere like this before?" she asks Embra quietly, "This is so much more like what I was expecting."
Shaking her head, Jane steps into the first bedroom she finds, closing the door and claiming the space as her own. She leans back against the door, closing her eyes and whimpering slightly as she wraps her arms around herself. She feels for the presence of magic around her and pulls on it slightly, taking comfort from it as she had earlier in Stark's office. She opens her eyes and takes in the space. The queen size bed seems to be made up in Egyptian cotton and the furniture is sparse, but looks expensive.
"Miss Foster," a lightly-accented voice inquires, "Are you feeling quite well? I can arrange for the procurement of…"
"Who's there?" Jane demands, spinning on her feet as she tries to size up every dark corner in the room. She's at her limits and desperately wants only to sleep.
"Please do not be alarmed, Miss," the voice continues, "I am JARVIS, a full-automated…"
Jane breathes in slowly, letting the computer's voice wash over. "Right," she says suddenly, realizing that the computer is still talking at her, "JARVIS. I need you to just stop talking." The computer goes silent. "I'm exhausted," she admits, "I just found out that its entirely possible that my alien boyfriend is in marriage negotiations with an empress who wants to rule the known worlds, and I'm not at home. I'm very not happy right now." She pauses for a long moment, a dawning horror in her mind, "Can you see me?"
"No, Miss," JARVIS replies. "However, there are motion detectors present throughout the Avengers Tower, and security cameras are installed in all public areas."
"But no one's going to be watching me change, or anything?" Jane prompted, intensely unsettled.
"No, Miss, but I must also remind you that I am an artificial intelligence. I cannot see as you would understand it…"
Jane interrupted the computer again, "If I ask you not to pay attention to my room, can you ignore it?"
"Miss, I cannot ignore data input. You may request that I not process or analyze the data, but it is collected."
Jane rubbed her forehead. "My head hurts," she whispers quietly to what should be an empty room.
"Miss, I will repeat the offer. Medication can be made available…"
"No," Jane exclaims, frustration in her voice. If her movements are tracked, if data is collected, then there is no real privacy here. She can't use her magic. She can't talk out loud as she sometimes does to help think. She'll have to be as careful and as wary here as she is anywhere else in the Tower.
"I just need sleep," she repeats quietly to the computer, as she tries very hard to get ready for bed, ignoring the fact that the computer is recording and processing the sounds of her changing her clothes and brushing her teeth.
As she lies down to sleep, Jane swallows hard against the painful lump in her throat that has been lingering ever since Embra's quiet admission in Tony Stark's office. Embra's sister, the empress who has taken Asgard for her own, who threw Thor into the dungeon, and is apparently (if one can believe talking ravens) is spying on them, had been negotiating marriage. It makes no sense to Jane. Why negotiate marriage when you already have control, except to legitimize it? In which case, Thor would be the logical choice. Perhaps he had turned her down and that was what had landed him in the dungeons…
But there is a niggling sense of fearful disbelief behind the feeling. Jane fights against it, but she isn't really capable of lying to herself. Loki is the one who is free. And he is married. He'd never said to who. She had made the assumption that the myths held truth. And omission is just another type of lie.
For the first time in many months, Jane finds herself questioning Loki's story. She had made her peace with it, had chosen to trust him despite all the odds. It's far too late to second-guess things now, and she tells herself this repeatedly. But those are not words that offer any sort of comfort.