Sunday, Erik visits the Hall of Science once more before lunch, spending a little time in the library with Odin while Kit and Jane excitedly diagram their newest revelation on holographic screens. It is only because Odin gently urges Jane out the door that they make it to lunch at all. They are a few minutes late and the others have already assembled when they arrive. Loki sits at the far end of the table, diagonal from Thor, and as far away from him as he can possibly be. Jane tugs Erik to the end and sits across from her husband.
Darcy nudges Loki's elbow, "See what I told you? The Science Sisters have no regard for the perfect timing of lunch."
"Discovery doesn't wait for food, Darce."
"Yeah, well food waited for discovery...this time. Ursa said she was making pizza for us today and if it's cold, I will hurt you."
"I thought it was my job to threaten people about food? Me and Sif."
"When it comes to pizza, I've got you beat, Sister."
Fandral pats Darcy's arm, "They haven't even brought it out, my dear. I am sure it will be served satisfyingly hot."
As if on cue, Ursa walks through the large, narrow servant's door leading a train of carts that stop along one side of the room, "Your Highness, my lords and ladies, honoured guests. Lunch is served." Six different large pizzas are presented at the table, "Would you like us to stay on hand to serve you slices, my king?"
"No, there will be no need. I have had this dish and, in Midgard, it is customary that those dining take their own pieces. We will do things in their fashion."
Ursa bows, "Then I hope you find your meal satisfactory." She gestures for her staff to follow and they leave, brisk as soldiers.
Before she is out the door, Sif has already placed three large slices, each from a different pizza, on her plate; Fandral, seated across from her, opens his mouth to chide her, but she glares, "Say anything and I will slice you into triangles."
Jane snorts, her plate also full, "Second that."
Darcy grabs a piece from one stacked with meat, "I have no idea what I'm eating, but this smells better than just about anything I've ever eaten. And I know there's bacon on here somewhere."
Loki chooses cheese only, "Well, not being pregnant, I think I can pick something a bit simpler. You will forgive me if I start a bit more plainly."
Erik picks a slice from the same pie, "Have you ever had pizza before?" It is far harder to ask such a simple question than he thinks it should be, but he decides food is likely a safe subject.
"No. But it smells delightful."
"It is a food fit for any king!" booms Thor from the other end of the table.
Darcy rolls her eyes, "Duh, I told you that when I first got here. Pizza is the food of the motherfucking gods. But did you folks believe me? Nope. But I was right again. Just like ice-cream."
"Ice-cream?" Erik asks.
"Yeah," Jane answers, "They didn't do ice-cream here before us. Really good cheese, but no ice-cream. Now we do ice-cream."
"And very good ice-cream, at that. Ours is as good as your Ben&Jerry's," Fandral adds.
"Huh. Well congratulations to Asgard on the coming of the age of ice-cream."
Darcy taps a bit of crust against her lip, "Huh. Age of ice-cream. Nice one, Erik. I like that."
"Thought you might."
"You should visit more often. Come back, see the Science Sisters again. Do sciencey things. Make sciencey stuff. Eat pizza."
"Maybe another weekend here and there, Darcy, but I've got work back home to keep up on, too. And college kids to terrorise."
"Did you get your selfie with Thor?"
"Yep. I'm going to have a blast with that one." He turns to Loki, "I'm teaching a class on Norse mythology. I taught it last term, too. Kids had a blast. I only let on that I've met any of you guys during exam week."
"Ah. Do your students find this subject interesting?"
"The ones who bother to take Norse myth generally aren't taking it because they have to."
"I have read some of the stories told about us in Midgard. They are interesting. Most have at least a grain of truth to them."
Erik shakes his head, "You guys sure lead interesting lives. Not sure I want to know which parts of which stories are true."
Loki smiles, "Likely not."
They make small talk,of the weather, of politics, until Thor once again retells of their fight against Vithar, extolling the bravery of his table-mates. Once he finishes, Thor calls for ice-cream.
Once it arrives, Darcy raises her dish of ice-cream and proposes a toast, "So here's to being nice to each other even when pretty much everybody at this table has a good reason to be pissed at at least one other person here. Y'all make me proud. Until you make me want to stab you."
Jane laughs, snorting vanilla ice-cream. Loki raises his dish and clinks it with Darcy's. He extends it then to Erik. Erik smiles. Clink.
The meal winds down. Fandral excuses himself with Sif and Thor to address concerns with the peace treaty from Jotunheim. Odin asks Darcy to take a walk in the gardens with him.
Jane looks between the two men left, "So...do you guys want to head back to the rooms and talk for a few minutes before we have to get Erik back to Earth?"
Loki nods, "I would, actually."
Erik shrugs, "Might as well. You can open the box."
"Oooo, yeah! I want to see what you brought."
They head to Loki and Jane's rooms; the dress bag and box have been delivered. Loki invites Erik to sit. Jane makes coffee.
"Thank you, Doctor Selvig, for accepting Jane's invitation. I imagine my presence isn't exactly comfortable for you."
"You're right about that."
"I...I'm sorry. For how I used you. It has been made painfully clear to me just how terrible it is to be considered a non-being for the benefit of others. And I deeply regret having done so to you and to Agent Barton." Jane serves coffee and curls up on the couch.
"But?"
"But what?"
"Where's the catch? Where's the moment you decide you weren't responsible for any of it or something? For the greater good, ends justify the means, or whatnot? You seem to forget how it worked- you were in my head, acting through me...and some of you leaked. I know you were working for someone else. I know you wanted a throne of your own. I know you thought we deserved a king like you. And I know you're the lie-smith."
Loki sighs, "I remember. I have no excuses. Explanations? Those I may have. But no excuses. I have tired of them. I have been fed too many these past years." He takes a sip of his coffee, "I understand that you will never likely see me as your friend. I cannot ask that of you. Not after what I have done. Forgiveness is not something I have any right to demand or even beg of you. All I ask is a tentative peace so that when you choose to visit Jane to see her work, or when she chooses to take her child to visit you, there is no tension that cannot be overcome. I do not want her to feel as though she cannot mention me or this and future children to feel as though they are unable to share news of their father freely."
"This really isn't about you, is it?"
"No. It isn't. Were it up to me, I would leave that entire part of my life behind and seek to never remember it."
Erik watches him intently, "What of the stories are true?"
"My acidic nature. A love of argument. And when I was younger, I did delight in weaving stories, lies, to see of what I could convince others. I brought trouble, but it also brought great amusement. I caused no end of worry to my family."
Erik nods, "I'll accept that you've got your regrets. But you're right. I'm not going to forgive you. I ended up in a mental hospital because of you. My reputation's gone to hell. I can't just undo that. That's not the family's fault, though. If your kids want to tell me all about the gardens or magic or whatever crazy story you made up for bedtime, I'm not going to dampen their spirits."
"Thank you, Doctor."
"Now...let's open the box, shall we?"
Jane slips off the couch, "I take it Mom's suit is in the bag?"
"And your christening gown." She peeks at the lace, then zips the bag back up, whisking it off to the dressing room. She returns quickly, sitting on the floor by the box.
"What else did you bring me?"
He kneels next to her, "Open it up and take a look."
She lifts the flaps slowly, eager to see what is inside, but relishing the surprise. Loki peers over the table.
Erik gestures to him, "Come on down, Dad. You'll use them, too." He sits behind Jane, watching over her shoulder.
Jane lifts a quilt from the top, "Your Mom made that for you when you were little. There's a note pinned to it on the inside. She had them tucked in most of her stuff. Instructions on what to do with things she'd packed away. I followed them to the letter."
Below the quilt, there is a small box nestled in a layer of wooden pull toys, blocks, and rag dolls. She opens it to find two tiny pairs of shoes, one made of leather, one of white satin. Under the toys, which she sets around her, dozens of slim DVD cases make one row while dozens of Little Golden Books form another. A thin, flat box is wedged along one side.
"Congratulations, Jane. The DVDs were yours. The books and box are my gift to your family." There are happy tears in her eyes as she opens the package. She can't help but laugh as she pulls out a set of Avengers onesies, "Kid's got to know about Earth's Mightiest and where you came from."
She hugs him, "This is awesome. Thank you so much. I'm so glad you came."
"I am, too. It's been a good visit. But I do have to get back so I can get ready for classes tomorrow."
They stand and Jane offers him an arm, "Well let me walk you back to Fandral's place so we can get your bag."
He turns to Loki and extends a hand; Loki accepts and shakes it, "I'm glad you two are happy. Even if I don't get how you got to this point. You've been good to her. Keep that up."
"Jane is a delightful woman, Doctor Selvig. I endeavour only to honour her."
"When she first told me she was married to you, let's just say I didn't think you'd even come close...but seeing her here, talking to her friends, to the rest of the family...even Thor thinks highly of your relationship. Let's just say it's a load off my back to know she's safe and in good hands."
He and Jane leave, arms linked. Loki drops back to the floor and tucks the box's contents back in it. He takes it to the inner room and sets it beside his desk. They will figure out where it goes later. He considers the toys. They will need a trunk. He summons Hadrian.
"Ask the Queen if she might have my toy chest delivered from the nursery."
"Of course, sir," Hadrian bows low.
"Thank you. You are dismissed." He closes the door and retreats to the harp sitting in the sunlight. It has been years since he played, but there is a baby on the way that will inevitably need soothing music in the evenings. He settles the instrument against his shoulder and closes his eyes, letting his fingers remember each string. When they seem to know their way around, he lets himself play.
