The Art of Lore: Chapter 4: Ever forgotten be men's former deeds
Author: starhawk2005
Fandom: Marvel's Avengers
Date: May 2016
Pairing: Loki/ Jane (Lokane)
Rating: Adult (18+).
Summary: More fun and games of various sorts on Alfheim. ;)
Disclaimer: Marvel owns it all, except for the occasional OC.
"W-well, uh, Loki and I met after he, uh, escaped from Asgard and came back to Earth," Jane explains after a long and uncomfortable (at least for her!) silence. She decides to just forge ahead so she can get this the hell over with, hoping nobody will notice in the torchlight how her blush is deepening even more at the memory of those early days.
"I was working on a…well, I guess you could call it a Bifröst of my own, since Ear- Midgard, doesn't have one. Well, didn't at the time, anyway," she corrects herself clumsily, fully aware that she's rambling.
"'Building a Bifröst'? By yourself? How remarkable! Small wonder you captured Prince Loki's heart so completely." The Queen grins broadly at Loki.
"Well, anyway," Jane continues, blushing even harder now, "Loki and I…fell in love." She can see him smirking from the corner of her eye as he raises his goblet to his mouth, but that's the least embarrassing way to categorize the early days of their 'arrangement'. And if he prefers a different label for it, then he should've kept on with the story-telling.
"Loki knew it was only a matter of time before Thanos made another try at getting the Tesseract, so he and I and SHIELD – that is, a government agency that protects Midgard – tried to come up with a plan to deal with that, but before we could," Jane pauses to take another anxious breath, "one of Thanos' goons found me."
"The Other," Loki supplies, his voice hardening, and his hand finds Jane's under the table again, pressing it comfortingly.
"Yes, we have heard tell of that beast," Ar'tora declares with a curl of her lip.
Everyone turns back expectantly to Jane, so she picks up the tale again. First she describes how Loki recruited help from Thor and Asgard to rescue her, (though she leaves out the part about Loki dumping her and then running to Asgard with his tail between his legs!). She chooses to skip ahead to how the defenders of Earth decided it would be necessary for Jane to finish her portal, so that both Earth and Asgard could ally against Thanos and his forces if necessary.
She's uncomfortably aware of how many things she's glossing over, if not outright lying about, but she doesn't feel she has much of a choice. Why the hell am I the one who has to do this? Why not Mr. God of Lies? I'm far more likely to jam my foot into my mouth!
Loki, however, is just sitting there and giving her absolutely no help, so Jane steels herself to tell the rest as vaguely as she feels she can get away with. She explains to her rapt audience of Queen, Consort and Council how Thanos had already been on Asgard, and how he had hijacked Jane's portal to yank her into his clutches.
But here the Queen interrupts, looking uncomfortably over at Loki. "I feel I must apologize, Prince Loki. We of Alfheim wanted to help, but by the time word of the attack on Asgard reached us, it was too late. Asgard was overrun, and we knew ourselves to be sorely outnumbered by the Chitauri. Not to mention the might of the Infinity Gauntlet." Her lip curls once more. "Still, given all Asgard has done for Alfheim, I urged the Council of Matrons to call an attack, but I was outvoted."
Be'lanu and several other Matrons look offended, while the remaining Matrons are nodding and expressing support for their Queen, but Loki holds up a hand and clears his throat loudly, before inclining his head respectfully to the Queen. "Asgard has and always will value its peaceful relationship with Alfheim," he says smoothly. "And rest assured that your reticence to engage with Thanos is entirely understandable. Sometimes difficult choices must be made in order to protect lives. Having seen and heard tell of how Thanos lay countless enemies low, I am the last person on Asgard who will fault your Council for their caution," he adds tactfully.
"We thank Asgard for its understanding," the Queen answers, though she looks dissatisfied still as she turns back to Jane with a sigh. "Do go on, Princess Jane. I eagerly await the conclusion of this tale."
It's easy enough for Jane to tell them about howAsgard and 'Earth's mightiest heroes' had attacked Thanos' forces. But once she gets to the part about Loki attacking Thanos, she has to think quickly what to tell them, without spilling Loki's secrets.
"Loki tried to get me away but Thanos blasted him with the Tesseract. Loki was trying to stab Thanos with his knives, or blast him with magic, but everything Loki tried just bounced off Thanos' energy shield. And two Chitauri soldiers were holding me, so I could do nothing but stand there and watch. But then-" Jane takes a deep breath and focuses on her lap, "Hawkeye – one of the Avengers, that is – shot both of the Chitauri dead, and in the meantime Thanos had been arrogant enough to drop the force-field so he could strangle Loki, and I, well..." Jane pauses again, hoping the Queen buys her fabrication, "I was so angry and frightened I just grabbed a dagger from the floor and shoved it into Thanos' back. They tell me I got lucky, that I happened to hit Thanos in just the right spot to get him in the heart." Jane can't help the note of apology creeping into her voice. Some 'warrior' I am.
But when Jane glances up from her hands she realizes everyone at the table, even Loki, are leaning forward in their chairs and hanging on every word.
"Uh, a-a-and so Thanos died, but not before one of the Chitauri stabbed me in retaliation. And if it hadn't been for Loki's magic, well, I, uh, I would've died." Her last words are quiet as her hand searches for his under the table again. Finding it, she squeezes his fingers tight, silently thanking him for the thousandth time.
"A truly remarkable tale," the Queen marvels, sitting back in her chair and twisting her goblet around and around thoughtfully in her hands. "You may not believe yourself a warrior – I can see it in your eyes – but you are wrong, Princess. It is not that a true warrior never feels fear; it is that a true warrior acts in spite of their fear."
"I have told Jane as much on more than one occasion," Loki agrees with a chuckle. "But perhaps the words of a Queen will carry more weight with her." Jane blushes all over again and elbows Loki in the side as she tries not to stammer her thanks to Ar'tora.
"Battles are not always won by the strongest or fastest," the Queen concurs. She gets up from her seat and, as if on cue, the other people at the table mirror her. Jane scrambles to mimic them. "But now the hour grows late. I thank you for the rousing tale, Prince Loki and Princess Jane, and I bid you both a good starshine."
Loki executes an elegant bow that Jane envies as she drops into an awkward curtsey. When he sweeps her off down the hallway and back towards their suite at last, Jane permits herself to sigh in relief. "Thank God that's over," she mutters out of the side of her mouth to Loki. "No thanks to you." She levels a sour glare at him.
He smirks, of course. "Sadly, as you are now a member of the royal family, there are certain functions you will always be expected to attend. I thought you acquitted yourself rather well, despite your low birth."
"Oh, shut up," Jane scowls. "And that's not what I mean, and you know it." He's close enough to let her take the opportunity to elbow him hard in the side. Again.
He pretends her pitiful jab has actually hurt him, gasping softly as he recoils, though he grins. "Would it help if I said I knew of something that would improve your present mood?" he deflects.
Jane raises a brow at him, debating if she should rake him over the coals now or later. This had better be good. "Oh really?"
"Oh yes," he assures her in low and lecherous tones. "Come, let me show you."
Loki manages to surprise her again; his 'something to improve her mood' has nothing at all to do with making love (or not yet, anyway). Which is good, because in her current state of annoyance with him over letting her twist in the wind in front of Queen and Council, she's pretty sure she'd tell him where to stick it…and that wouldn't be anywhere near her.
But instead he conjures a cloak of dark green lined with sable fur, wraps it around her shoulders, and guides her back through the enclosed glass walkway and massive dome once more. At last he leads her through one of the dome's side-doors and out onto the wide grassy plain Jane spotted earlier.
This time there are no horned horses or elves. There's only the silvered grasses exuding their perfume and the shadowy outline of the fence that encircles the field. Beyond those, puffs of clouds still stubbornly mark the city's edges.
Above them the stunning expanse of Alfheim's sky arches cloudlessly. The moon – Loki tells her the elves call it O'athe - shines down from the upper reaches of the heavens now, so large that even when Jane holds up a hand and stretches out her fingers as wide as she can, it only just covers the palely glowing celestial body.
No longer buried by the need to act sociable among strangers (and alien ones, at that), Jane's excitement rises again. This is really happening. I'm on an alien planet with an alien sun and moon. And this is only the beginning. I'm going to see the rest of the universe…well, at least 'the universe' according to Asgardian cosmology.
It's a far better outcome than she'd ever dared hope for, back in the bad old days when she'd been scrounging incessantly for funding, and for acceptance from her peers in academia. Back then, I would've given anything to just be able to create a portal that worked. Even if it went nowhere interesting, it would've been enough just to glimpse somewhere other than Earth, and to know that I was the one who got us there. Dad would've been so proud.
The stars above them blur as Jane dashes moisture out of her eyes. "Jane?" Loki asks, concern filtering into his voice, but Jane shakes her head. "I'm good," she assures him, clearing her throat. "No, I'm better than good."
She looks back up into the alien skyscape. The massive, pale yellow moon is not the only wonder. There's not a single constellation Jane recognizes, not to mention there's at least twelve stars in the sky that she's pretty sure can be classified as O-Type stars. Jane also counts eight nebulas of various sizes and colours.
And that's all just from this viewpoint on Alfheim.
Silently Loki spreads his cape on the scented grasses and conjures her satchel, handing her the telescope she brought with her, as well as a notebook and pen. "Thanks," she says, grinning down at him. He's turning into quite the lab assistant, though Jane decides it's best not to inflate his ego any further by telling him so. Besides, he still has to answer for what happened at dinner, though Jane figures a little 'science break' is more important than giving him hell right this second.
Jane's sure at least an hour passes as she scribbles a rough diagram of the Alfheim constellations in one of the new notebooks she brought with her, making sure to indicate all the main celestial features. She asks Loki the names of each star and nebula and he answers all her questions patiently. She takes measurements with the equipment she brought, and snaps the best still images she can manage with her SLR camera, as well as attempting to take a video of the night sky (the quality is not great, but it's better than nothing).
At last the cramping in Jane's writing hand becomes too much for her and she sighs, setting her gear aside and lying down next to Loki, cuddling into his side as he wraps an arm around her. "Is your thirst for knowledge sated for the moment?" he inquires, the corner of his mouth quirking.
"Uh, no?" Jane retorts, shaking out her sore hand. "I want to know where the Queen got that story about you. The one about you trying to destroy Jotunheim, I mean," she clarifies. She glances around anxiously, but they're still alone. No witnesses. "You and I both know why you really did it." Because you hate that part of yourself, she thinks but doesn't say.
Loki chuckles dryly. "Though I am reputed by your people to be the God of Lies, that particular set of lies did not come from me." She turns to face him but he's looking steadfastly up, the moonlight reflecting in his eyes. "It is the 'official' story that Odin had circulated among the populace, while they all thought me dead. Admitting that the throne of Asgard had been held, for however brief a time, by a Jotun savage is not something the All-Father would ever voluntarily divulge," he growls, his voice turning hard.
You don't know that for sure, Jane wants to say. But she can't be sure either, so she stays silent on that point, if not the next one: "Then maybe you should have, I don't know, told me the 'official' version? What if I had told the elves the wrong thing? And what about the battle with Thanos and how we beat him? I could've easily screwed that up, too!"
"I suppose regarding the first part of the tale, I thought it to be common knowledge – or perhaps more accurately, belief – among those Realms interested in such details. Therefore I could not have predicted Ar'tora's interest. Though I admit my attention has been rather….diverted from matters of court of late. What with all the kidnapping and rescuing of Midgardian scientists, and the battling of despots who threaten the very integrity of the universe, and such." Here he pauses and gives her a wink that can only be described as 'cheeky'.
"Don't think that just because you saved my life that I'm going to let you get away with putting me on the spot like that, mister." Jane growls. "I don't even know how you could have let me tell the story. In your place, I would've been terrified that I'd – me, I mean – would've made a gaffe."
Loki shrugs. "You know well Odin's antipathy for what I am. An intellect as keenly honed as yours would easily deduce that such a detail would have been kept from the official retelling. And that such should be omitted from our victory over Thanos as well."
Jane rolls her eyes as she sits up and turns to face him. "Your flattery won't work on me, Loki. I'm immune by now."
He grins unrepentantly up at her. "Oh? Would you credit my words more, if I claimed instead that any deviation in your recounting of the saga I would have explained away by the trauma of your near-death experience, and how it must have clouded your memory of the true events?"
Jane snorts and smacks him on the shoulder. "Always an answer for everything."
"Of course," he agrees loftily. "Have I not a reputation to uphold?"
Mentally, she throws up her hands. He is who he is, and there's little point wasting her energy trying to teach him any kind of lesson. She figures she's better off expanding her knowledge base on things that might actually be useful. "Whatever you say," Jane sighs in resignation, looking up into the skies again. "Why do the Elves call Thanos an 'Abomination'?" she asks after a moment.
"The Light Elves value life above all else. Why otherwise would they choose to live in the skies, and consume only plants as sustenance? But Thanos was desirous only of war and death. The destruction of all living things, as an offering to his Mistress. In that fashion, all he represented is inimical to them."
Jane nods. "I guessed as much. And that reminds me – Light Elves?" she prods him in the side with her toe. "Or are you going to keep leaving me in suspense?"
The moonlight gleams off his teeth as he grins. "Is their physical appearance not as you expected, my Jane?"
"Some of it, sure. The pointy ears? That's classic." Here Jane has to wonder too: How exactly do humans have tales of elves, complete with the pointed ears? Have the Elves ever visited Earth in the past? But one question at a time, she decides. "Everything else, not so much. Why would elves with black skins be called light elves? C'mon, spill." She prods him again, harder this time.
"Oh, there are several tales about that, and even I am not sure which I believe in most strongly. Shall I tell them all to you and allow you be the judge, favoured wife?"
"Why not?"
The first story he tells her is one Frigga told him as a child: how the Light Elves were born of light, and the Dark Elves of the darkness. "There is even a poem I found once in the Library, which describes how the Dark Elves were pale as milk, so that they could locate each other more easily in dimness, whereas the Light Elves were burned black by the brilliance that gave them life."
"Wait just a second, the Dark Elves are…white? White as snow?" Jane shakes her head. OK, that makes no sense either. Who's in charge of naming stuff around here?
"So the legends tell us. I myself have never seen a Dark Elf in the flesh. My fa- Odin's father Bor slaughtered all the Dark Elves many centuries past, fighting for possession of a weapon of unimaginable power. But the drawings and descriptions that we have of that extinct race all depict the Dark Elves as being 'frost-white of skin and hair'."
"Huh," Jane muses.
"I can, however, propose another reason for the seemingly counterintuitive naming," Loki continues. "Cut a Light Elf, and their blood is pale, and glows faintly in full darkness. This I did witness in my youth, during a minor skirmish where Alfheim and Asgard united against the hordes of Vanaheim. The blood of the Dark Elves, in contrast, has been described many times in the tales and poems as being black as pitch."
"I guess that's not so hard to buy," Jane concurs.
"But perhaps simplest of all – and thus perhaps truer than all other tales – is merely this: that the Light Elves adore the light, and Life. While the Dark Elves were named for their wish to extinguish the Universe, and return all back into Darkness."
"Wow, that's…ambitious," Jane replies, struggling to find the right word.
Loki nods. "Yet foolish. That was the cause of their war with Asgard, a battle which ultimately led to their end. The weapon that they sought, the Dark Elves intended to use it to empty all life from our Universe, to render it into the Void beyond Yggdrasil's branches."
A chill glides up Jane's spine and she shivers. "Something tells me Thanos and the Dark Elves would've gotten along just fine."
Loki sits up and pulls Jane into the circle of his arm, resting his chin on the top of her head. "Initially, perhaps. But I have no illusions that before long Thanos would have begun offering Dark Elves to his Mistress Death. Or that the Elves would have decided that, once his usefulness to them had expired, that he too deserved to be unmade. It is the nature of such unions."
She draws a shaky breath, realizing that she's growing very tired of thinking about anything related to Thanos.
As is so often the case, she finds her refuge in the scientific. "If you'll forgive me for changing the subject, how is it so, well, comfortable out here? It should be freezing and hard to breathe. Unless Alfheim has a very different atmosphere from Earth…"
Loki smiles down at her. "If I say it is due to magic, will you attempt to strike me again?"
Jane groans and pushes away from Loki, snagging her notebook from the folds of his cape. She flips it open, using the bright light of O'athe to scrawl a few notes. Floating city = 'magic'. Livable atmosphere outside the city = 'magic', she writes in her nearly incomprehensible chicken-scratches (or so Darcy has often complained). "Magic, magic, magic," she mutters gloomily to herself. "Is Earth the only damn planet in the universe where science reigns?"
"Considering how magic, and what you call 'science', are intertwined on Asgard, I fail to see how they can be so very different. Even as I admit that I seem to lack the vocabulary to express magic in terms you can understand at a rational level."
Jane chuckles. "Are you saying I can understand it at an irrational level?"
Loki raises a brow as he leans back onto his elbows, fixing her with an intense gaze. "Do you not? You are exquisitely sensitive to the presence of magic, if not to grasping the intricacies of harnessing it for your own purposes."
"Why, is that weird? Can't other humans sense magic?" Jane knows exactly what Loki is talking about. There'd been the prickle of the Light Elves' teleporter, the bizarre sensation she'd experienced just before The Other had grabbed her, and even the day long ago when Thor and Loki had fought each other behind her trailer. Not only had she detected something weird about the air, but she'd been able to pierce the veil of Loki's cloaking spell. Yeah, after nearly giving myself a splitting headache. Jane Foster, the next Hogwarts graduate? Hardly.
"While it is rare for your fellow Midgardians to be capable of wielding magic, it is not entirely unheard of. I find it strange then, that you yourself are so receptive to magical energy, and yet…understanding how to bend it to your will eludes your grasp so easily."
"Uh, thanks? I guess?" She frowns down at him. While she's pretty sure he's not trying to insult her or anything, it's hard not to bristle at the way he's saying it.
He smiles disarmingly, his voice turning low and coaxing. "Forgive my evidently poor choice of words, my love. I only meant that given your apparent sensitivity, I would have thought it would be easier for you to manipulate magic, or at least to learn to understand its shapes and forms as I do. Compared to those among your people without any such sensitivity, that is."
What he's saying seems logical, she'll give him that. "Maybe it's just my years of research training," Jane suggests, shrugging. "I'm observant, which is a necessary skill for a scientist. Heck, maybe our Earth 'science' is just a different kind of 'magic'. It's not like you understand how my portal works, right?"
"Yes and no. I can comprehend the flow of energies and of forces required." He holds up his hand and green fire spills from his palm, dripping onto his cape and pooling harmlessly in the hills and dunes of the fabric.
Transfixed, she watches the flames crawl towards her, not even realizing she's reaching out to them until they lick coolly against her fingertips. "One could say," Loki murmurs, his eyes intent on her hand as the fire plays around it, "that I – and other Asgardian magic users – feel and understand magic at an instinctual level. Perhaps that is what you possess, if in a lesser form. But to attempt to describe magic, to endeavor to capture its essence in mere words and numbers, as you do in your science…" He motions with his hand, and the tiny green tongues of light die out. "It seems to me to serve little purpose. Perhaps I would feel different, if I were more inclined to record my spells for future generations of mages to employ."
"So some magic-users have tried to describe magic in a written form?"
"Indeed. When next we visit Asgard I will show you the spell-books I have collected over the millennia. I myself can learn spells set down in written fashion, and twist them to my own ends. But to attempt to teach the basic workings of magic to another, as Moth- Frigga did with me, well…" He shakes his head slightly as he uproots a blade of grass, shredding it between dexterous fingers. "I never felt the need."
"You like your secrets," Jane blurts out, before she can think better of it.
His gaze flicks over at her, a smirk growing on his lips. "I have a reputation to uphold, do I not?"
Jane snorts. "Oh yeah? Which one? Loki, the Wizard? Loki, the Prince of Lies? Or maybe Loki, God of Kinky Sex?" She pokes him in the side with a toe, teasing this time.
His gaze darkens. "All of the above?" he suggests in a purr that causes goosebumps to bloom all along Jane's back and arms.
Then he pounces.
In a blur of green, black and gold Jane finds herself on her back in the grass, Loki's lips searing a trail down her throat. "Wha- Uh- Here?" She squeaks.
He raises his head just a little, the tips of his hair swinging against her cheeks in the breeze. "Why not?" he inquires. "We have consummated our desires in the outdoors before, as I recall."
He's not talking about- Her pulse speeds up as she remembers that particular encounter. A game of cruel master and defiant slave.
"Wait, that was real? I mean, really outdoors? I thought you said it was all an illusion." Funny how she'd never stopped to actually think about it before. Where exactly could they have been? In some other dimension, created temporarily by Loki's magic? An illusion that had, for all its realism, only taken place in her mind?
Or had he taken her to a real forest on Earth (or here!?) and used his powers to hide them from prying eyes?
A predatory smile stretches his lips. "Does it matter? As I recall, unless I am much mistaken, you enjoyed the experience immensely."
Jane swallows hard. "I did," she admits.
"Do you wish for something of a repeat performance, my love?"
"Uh," Jane stalls, glancing around nervously.
"Do not fear, there are many secluded spots on Alfheim. I searched them out while I visited in my youth." His hands close on her hips and without warning her vision whites out, a brief dizziness clouding her senses.
She has time to blink once, then twice, before her vision returns. They're back in the forest, in a clearing hemmed in by the golden trees. When Jane looks quickly around, even from her position under Loki she can tell there's no flat rock in the center, nor a pool of bird-fishes, so this must be a new place they haven't visited before.
Loki rolls nimbly off of her, coming to his feet, and Jane realizes he's back in his habitual armor. He circles her languidly in a way that makes her heart pick up the pace, pounding in her chest. "I will, of course, ensure that we are not discovered. Or disturbed." His grin flashes like a knife-blade.
Jane shifts up onto her hands and knees, not really startled to discover she's back in the jeans and shirt she wore when they first arrived on Alfheim. "I don't know," she argues, folding her arms across her chest and fixing him with a glare. "I'm not sure I've forgiven you yet for letting me take all that heat at dinner. Maybe I want to make you work for it." She raises a challenging brow at him.
He laughs huskily. "Do I not always, dearest wife?" He spreads his hands and sidles closer. Moonlight beaming down from above coaxes random gleams off his armour, and the trees whisper their secrets overhead.
"You like games, don't you?" Jane counters, choosing to ignore his last comment and the promise it carries. "I have a simple one for you, we'll make it like a game of tag. You play something like that on Asgard, right?" She grins right back at him, slowly coming to her feet and edging back towards the end of the clearing in response to every step he takes towards her.
Loki raises a brow. "Indeed, though we call it 'Hunt the Bilgesnipe'? Shall I assume you are to be the prey?" His teeth gleam at her.
Without answering, Jane turns and sprints into the woods behind her with a giggle. Or rather, she sprints for the first few seconds. Then she stumbles over a root, barely catching herself against a handy tree-trunk to prevent herself falling full-length into the leaves and dirt. Isn't this just typical, she thinks, rolling her eyes in exasperation.
Behind her, she can hear Loki counting. Let's hope he plans to stop on a big number, or this'll be over way too quick.
Jane starts off again, but it soon becomes evident that she can't actually run. There's no path, and the moonbeams coming through the canopy are too scattered to let her easily spot all the roots and rocks waiting to trip her up. Too easy to injure herself. I'll just have to find a way to slow him down, she decides, grinning to herself as she tries to shuffle along and shrug off her flannel shirt at the same time.
She stifles a giggle as she hangs the shirt from a convenient branch sticking out into her path. Behind her Loki shouts: "Your grace period has elapsed, little Jane! Here I come!"
Jane gasps and shifts into a trot, heart racing as she ducks past a collection of low bushes. She crouches down out of sight (she hopes), and quickly pulls her t-shirt up and over her head. Hanging it off the side of the nearest bush, she takes off in a new direction, perpendicular to her original path, squeezing carefully through the closely-spaced tree trunks.
Blood sings in her ears as she wonders how long she can keep Loki at bay (not long, most likely), and also what delicious things he'll do to her when he catches her.
She stops a minute or two later, listening hard, but there's no sound other than the leaves of the trees and the long grasses shushing together. She whirls, hearing a twig snap behind her, but a few seconds pass and nothing happens, so she decides now would be a good time to lose her jeans. Jane's glad there's nobody around to watch her – as far as she knows, anyway - as she tries to get them down and off over her sneakers as quickly as she can.
Tossing the jeans over a nearby rock leaves Jane in only a bra, a pair of panties, and her socks and shoes. I really really hope we're alone, because if anyone else finds me like this-!
She has to move much more slowly now so that she doesn't scrape her bare arms or legs against the rough tree trunks or branches. OK, maybe stripping down wasn't the best idea, she chides herself,though the exhilaration spinning inside her says otherwise.
A chuckle like warm caramel slips through the leaves, and Jane feels a strong hand grope at her shoulder. She twists away with a bark of laughter as she spins off in a new direction, Loki's amusement mirroring hers.
She manages to (because he lets her) avoid three more attempts by Loki to capture her, but at one point she catches the toe of her sneaker in a root and just as she begins to tumble forward, lean arms loop around her waist and pull her back against him. They're at the edge of another glade, or maybe it's even the same one, for all she knows. Jane's no expert at navigating forests, especially when she can't even see the stars above her to use as a guide.
Something falls at her feet with a soft plop, and Jane looks down to see it's a pile of her cast-off clothes. "Already half-disrobed for me? So thoughtful of you, my Jane," he whispers, heated breath caressing her ear.
Far bolder than she used to be, she slides a hand between them, palming the hard ridge of his cock beneath the leather of his pants. "But you're still fully clothed," she breathes back with a smirk. "Some things never change, do they, husband?"
"Oh that is easily remedied, never fear," he murmurs throatily, just before Jane registers the familiar tickle of magic between her bare skin and his armour. Then the cool skin of his chest is pressed against her.
His teeth scrape the side of her neck, and in a move so quick it leaves her reeling, she finds herself on her hands and knees in the grass in the middle of the glade. Loki is on his hands and knees as well, bent over her and bracing himself on one arm while the other remains firm around her waist.
Harsh breathing sounds in her ear as his hold on her loosens, his hand beginning to wander aimlessly over her skin. Jane digs her nails into the turf when his touch grazes across a peaked nipple still covered by rough lace. When he pinches it, applying just the right mixture of pleasure and pain, Jane arches up into him, making a sound that's just short of a squeal.
Then, inspired by a mischievous impulse of her own, she shoves his hand aside and attempts to crawl away from him, looking back over her shoulder with a teasing grin.
"Oh, there's no escape, little one," he hisses in threatening tones though he's smiling. A grip of iron encircles her ankle, preventing her very half-hearted getaway. "Minx," he accuses her with mirth in his voice. "You leave me no choice but to restrain you."
He pulls her back underneath him, his arm looping like an iron band around her waist once more, his other hand braced on the ground beneath them again. He exhales a cold breath against her back and somehow the catch of her bra gives, the cloth falling open and dropping into the grass. Then Loki pulls her hands behind her, trapping her wrists together between in his powerful fingers.
She tugs even though she knows how useless it is, just to enjoy the sensation of being at his mercy, and warmth pools between her legs. A breeze flits through the clearing, teasing at her newly-bared nipples, and Jane squirms happily, gooseflesh pebbling her skin.
"On the subject of magic, it is unwise to provoke a mage, wife of mine," he whispers into her ear. "There are so many ways I can employ it to bend you to my will. Observe."
Jane's heart jumps as something wriggles across her back from out of nowhere, though she then realizes Loki has conjured one of his little snakes. It interlaces itself around her wrists, its smooth scales caressing her, but for once it doesn't change into rope. She can feel it, warm and alive, shifting subtly against her skin, moving and breathing as she does.
Loki's hand closes on her shoulder, pulling her back tighter against him, keeping her rather precariously balanced on her knees. "In fact it just occurred to me," he croons, and his tongue darts out to toy wetly with her earlobe, "that as we are already revisiting some past delights, there are some other…tricks of mine of which you seemed fond. And myself as well." She can feel his wicked grin against the side of her neck.
Jane's breath hitches at his words. Oh. My. God. Does he mean-
A shiver travels up her back just as another small snake births itself somewhere between their bodies. Loki shifts back a fraction, and Jane is exquisitely aware of the path of the serpent as it slips up her spine, twining idly up her back. It slides around her throat, but then it changes, first stilling, and then cooling and hardening into another familiar sensation.
Jane wets her lips. "Is that-?"
"A twin to the torc that was broken, and to the ring you now bear as a token of my love? Yes. Though I swear an oath to you, my wife, that this trinket will come off your lovely throat whenever you will it to."
"You're always so thoughtful," Jane jokes, though she's deeply touched that he remembered. "And here I didn't get you anything," she adds laughingly, trying to distract herself before she ruins the moment by doing something corny like crying or something.
"Oh, you'll be gifting me with something shortly, I have little doubt of that," he growls. "Perhaps one of your delectable screams of pleasure?"
Jane giggles in answer, her amusement breaking off into a sharp inhale as another, larger snake now glides off Loki's body and onto hers. She freezes, all her attention focused on its path as it slides down over her hip, her core throbbing in anticipation.
It glides across the thin fabric of her panties, scales catching on the fabric and pulling it taut against the aching little bead of her clit. It chafes her in just the right way, a low groan spilling out of her throat as she twists back against Loki.
He laughs, shifting both his weight and hers back as the snake retreats so that his hand can come up off the ground. His nimble fingers find the front of her panties, pulling the garment into a thin band that slides between her folds.
"Loki!" she gasps, hips bucking helplessly as he works the lace against her most sensitive spot, tugging it back and forth. Sweat dews her skin, more gooseflesh rising as another breeze drifts through the clearing, teasing her in its own way.
She'd almost forgotten the snake, but it hasn't forgotten her. It's been coiled around her waist as Loki plays with her, but now it begins to move higher, rising up her body until its scales massage across her breasts. Her nipples throb, sending a jolt of pleasure down her body, and Jane can feel it now, the gathering heat inside her, ready to explode the moment Loki tugs the fabric across her clit at just the right moment. She arches back against him, wordlessly begging.
Suddenly his hand jerks hard outward, tearing her panties open effortlessly. Jane starts to protest but it turns to a squeal when Loki nips her neck above the necklace, his long fingers pressing into her skin as he molds her into a new position.
She finds herself trying to balance on wobbly knees, and Loki spread out on the grasses underneath her, long and lean and rampant. If only her hands were free she could reach in front of her and palm his length, frustrate him as much as he's frustrating her so deliciously, but the serpent around her wrists shows no signs of disappearing or loosening.
Jane looks down but the only part of Loki's face that she can see is his evil grin. And then not even that, as his hands grasp her hips and guide her down until his talented tongue can dig into the tender folds between her thighs.
She gasps his name again, hips rocking as he takes her clit delicately between his teeth, tongue darting and stroking. The snake around her chest loosens and tightens its coils, flicking its quick tongue across her nipple. She's at the edge again, the heat cresting from her center and starting to spill over, oh God she's so, so very close, almost there-
Loki sucks her clit into his mouth hard, swiping his tongue rhythmically across it, and Jane does indeed scream, toppling forward onto Loki's belly as she spasms.
The snakes around her wrists and chest disintegrate, and she can feel his satisfied chuckle against her inner thigh as she blinks sweat out of her eyes, breasts heaving as she attempts to slow her pulse. Strong fingers renew their grip on her hips, however, and even without the ability to read his expression, Jane can tell he's going to try to shove her back over the edge again.
To buy a few seconds Jane runs her palm over the gleaming head of his cock, feeling him emit a pleased rumble against her slick skin. He lifts her up a bare inch so he can hum: "Oh yes, honoured wife. Do feel free to have your way with me. If you can." There's an unspoken challenge there, confirmed when he lowers her back down, eager tongue targeting her clit again, and now one clever hand slides up her body, pulling and tugging on a nipple.
Jane grits her teeth against the distraction, licking her palm and curling it around the reddened shaft, stroking him with slow twisting motions of her hand. Beneath her his lungs stutter, which only encourages her to do it again, before she trails fingertips along the solid length of him, scratching lightly with her nails.
He's lapping at her now, scouring her most sensitive spot with abandon, but Jane is determined to try to give as good as she gets, concentrating on keeping her balance as she pumps him with one hand, reaching with the other to skim her nails now over the taut flesh of his sac.
She's going to lose this game, she realizes a moment later, because despite the moans Loki is trying to muffle, her own sounds are twice as loud and breathless. She makes a last ditch effort, stretching to take him into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the pulsing head, but it's too late. He pushes a finger deeply inside her, his tongue continuing to so sweetly torment her, and it's all over.
Blood thunders in her ears and she's pretty sure she screams again. Then the world turns sideways Jane finds herself face-down on her belly in the grass, Loki bend over her once more and pulling her back onto her hands and knees.
"This is what you reduce me to," he snarls in her ear before he nips the lobe, spurts of his breath heating her skin in erratic bursts, "little more than a rutting beast. A god, brought so low by a mortal." His hips press to hers, his shaft a searing brand against inner thigh as his teeth skate along her shoulder. "Though in truth I would not have it any other way."
I am so using that against him whenever he starts in on the 'I-am-a-God' crap, she thinks fleetingly. Then, sensing him teetering on the edge of control Jane reaches between her legs and guides him inside of her.
His first thrust is nearly violent enough to topple her forward, so she braces herself on her hands and pushes back, meeting him on every forward jab of his hips.
Everywhere their bodies touch he feels hard and taut as steel, the heat of his skin radiating into hers, and not for the first time she finds it impossible to believe that his origins lie on a frozen planet.
On every thrust his heavy balls whip against her clit, sending a thrill of pleasure through her, while his shaft caresses every inch of her depths, and it's not long before her head sags to the turf, her fingers white-knuckled as she holds on for dear life. He breathes raggedly into her neck, mouthing her name over and over against the side of it. "Come with me," he urges her hoarsely, the searing heat of his touch pressing to her mound to massage her little nub one last time.
His fingers dance over her in just the perfect way, and he pushes hard into her one final time, filling her to the brim. Feeling him pulsing inside her, Jane gasps out his name as she surrenders.
He stops, breathing unsteadily into the sweat-dampened hair at the base of her neck, shuddering. Then he uncoils from her, leaving her cold, but before she can mount more than a token protest he's prone beneath her again, cradling her to his soaked chest.
Her eyes are heavy, and it's amazingly difficult to raise her hand to stroke the sweat-drenched strands of raven hair back from his pale forehead. "There you go trying to kill me with multiple orgasms again," she mumbles.
His laugh is loud, reverberating through her entire body. "Poor little Jane Foster of Midgard, saddled with such a brute. What a horrid husband I am."
"Watch it, buddy," she growls back half-heartedly, though the next sentence is one-hundred-percent sincere. "I may have to tie you down and return the favour sometime."
His response is part snort, part chuckle. "Is that a threat, my love? Be assured that I tremble in fear and anticipation."
Jane's sole answer is a loud snore.
The next day in Cerrat dawns bright and clear, Jane bounding out of bed eager to examine more closely everything she only caught glimpses of the day before.
First Loki takes her on a tour of the Palace, which has several courtyards with more of those gorgeous crystal fountains. There's also a library that rivals the one Jane's seen in Asgard, with towering pillars and what has to be at least fifteen floors of shelved tomes, each level accessible through a miniature version of the Elvish teleporter. Much more efficient than climbing ladders, she thinks to herself.
The gardens behind the Palace, built on another of those expansive pasture-balconies (or so Jane soon comes to think of them) and nestled in cloud, is full of amazing new finds that Jane is quick to snap pictures of to show to Darcy and Erik (and hopefully the wider academic community!) later.
The trees growing among the little man(elf?)-made streams are identical to the forests below, but the flowers are marvels; one species that Loki calls her attention to has petals that are nearly colourless, like plastic wrap, but they have a wonderful green iridescent sheen to them, and a scent to rival any rose Jane has ever appreciated on Earth. Then there are the tiny red flowers whose petals grow in such a way that they look like little globes, as well as a dark blue flower the size of Jane's fist, which Loki tells her emits pale yellow light at night (he plucks a few so can they can observe the phenomenon in their bedroom later that evening).
Even this high in the sky, insects buzz about. Most seem to have either four legs or eight, their abdomens much larger in proportion to their bodies than anything Earth-bound, their wings thrumming like hummingbirds as they collect sap from the flowers. The bugs prudently avoid the true oddity of the whole garden: a carnivorous plant with an alluring perfume, but with razor-edged bumps and needle-like spikes on the inside of the bright yellow petals. Jane makes sure to give that one a wide berth too, especially since it's nearly as tall as she is, and the hungry flowers are as big as her head!
But that's nothing compared to what Loki shows her next. They return to the huge domed common area that they passed through the day before, this time taking a much more leisurely stroll. Loki lopes along beside her, hands clasped behind his back and an indulgent air about him while Jane talks and speculates excitedly about everything they stop to examine.
It is late morning by the time they return to the little cluster of merchants they passed yesterday. It's definitely some sort of bazaar, with one stall selling jewels, another intricately painted clay pots, and a third displaying musical instruments, some familiar to Jane from dinner with the Queen the night before. The merchant next to those is selling foodstuffs and beverages of various types, and behind that set is another rank of stalls, where there are weavers, leatherworkers, a blacksmith, a toymaker, and what Loki identifies to Jane as an alchemist.
There's even a small tent with tiny paintings small enough to fit into the palm of Jane's hand. They remind her of a Monet exhibit Donald once dragged her to, saying she was 'too uncultured for someone with a doctorate'.
Loki, predictably, urges her to acquire any item that suits her fancy, and the merchants are quick to make the Alfheim gesture of respect and fall over themselves to serve the Asgardian prince and princess. When did I become a member of an intergalactic power couple? Jane reflects, trying not to feel self-conscious about the attentions of the sellers as she considers which of the confections at the food stall sound most intriguing.
She finally selects one which reminds her of a pastry pocket, though it's filled with a sweet, slightly grainy paste that the merchant informs her is boiled-down bark from trees especially grown to provide food for the city populace. Loki himself selects a pitch-black sweet in the shape of a sphere, filled with a white cream that stretches like mozzarella when one takes a bite.
Jane also, once more with Loki's encouragement, buys a small version of the double flute she saw the musicians playing last night, as well as a pair of skillfully woven gloves that feel thin and fine as silk, but which the weaver promises her will keep her hands 'warm as the summer solstice, even in the coldest Jotunheim winter'.
Loki himself purchases a bottle of pale blue liqueur at another stall, claiming that it is Frigga's favourite Alfheim drink, and Jane finds it very encouraging that Loki is doing something, well, nice for a family member. Even if Jane is pretty convinced that out of all his family, Frigga was the one who was the least on his bad side.
What really fascinates Jane most about the bazaar is not the items themselves, but the method of payment. Or rather, the lack of it. The currency is apparently something called 'mir', as the merchants tell Loki that this item is 'five mir' or that the other item is 'eight-and-twenty mirren', and each time Loki nods and sends the item to his Interdimensional Closet...but Jane never sees him passing over any actual payment. But if the sellers are being stiffed, it doesn't bother them at all; each time the merchant makes a notation in glowing yellow ink on a pad of writing material hanging from a belt, which each merchant wears, and then they simply nod to Loki and Jane and wish them a 'fair day'.
"OK, what the heck just happened?" she grills Loki after they leave the bazaar. "Is 'mirren' the Alfheim version of credit or something?"
Loki flashes a grin at her, tucking a loose lock of his hair back behind his ear. "Of a sort. The floating cities of Alfheim do not general employ currency, unlike you humans. It is far more imperative to feed the Source."
Jane blinks at the vaguely ominous-sounding phrase, though Loki seems unconcerned. "'The Source'?"
"Of the city's power," he clarifies. "I am sure you can agree that it would be most disastrous should that power fail, and the city to fall from the sky?" He grins playfully at her shocked look.
"Please please tell me 'falling from the sky' doesn't happen often around here!" Jane blurts, her face reddening as a passing group of Elves look over at them and grin before continuing on their way.
Loki closes the distance between him and Jane and folds his hand around hers. "To my knowledge such has only happened once, and that centuries ago. You may rest quite easy on that score, my love." He squeezes her hand gently. "Should you wish to see The Source? I must go there to render payment, and sooner is no worse than later."
"Sure, OK," Jane agrees, curious to meet this person who is keeping the city afloat.
Loki guides Jane towards an alcove at one side of the dome, across from the bazaar. Inside the alcove is a platform with rails, and after standing there for a moment, the platform rises smoothly into the air as Jane gasps in surprise and clutches more tightly at Loki's hand. It's an Alfheim elevator, apparently.
It's soon evident that they're in another building, one adjacent to the dome, and they pass six floors before the platform comes to a stop. Loki sweeps Jane through an arched doorway and into a hallway of wood and smooth stones, and finally into a large room almost the size of the Asgardian Observatory.
That's when she discovers that The Source is not a person, but a thing. It's a giant ball of pale orange light, floating in the very center of the circular room. Every so often as they watch, a little bolt of energy shoots from the globe of light and into one of the holes set into the ceiling, the walls, or the floor around the globe, sizzling as it vanishes.
Elves move around the rim of the room, standing on platforms similar to the one she and Loki are standing on, and Jane observes some of them raising their arms and closing their eyes. After a moment, more pale orange light coalesces around their hands, and then it streams towards the ball of light, joining with it. Their task finished, the Elves leave, only to be replaced by more Elves, who then feed the glowing ball in the same way.
"Wow," Jane breathes, fumbling for her video camera as Loki explains: "There are mages whose sole task in Cerrat is to feed the Source, to ensure that there is always enough power to keep the city aloft. But as you might imagine, such an exercise can be very taxing. So those with any measure of magical ability, such as myself, recompense any services and purchases by providing our power to the Source as well."
He waits patiently until she's aiming her camera at him, and then he raises his hand, green light curling around his fingers. She watches closely, tracking the light as it leaves his fingers in a bright stream, arcing over to join the ball. For a handful of seconds the green light eddies around the circumference of the globe, giving it an appearance like the world's largest soap bubble, and then Loki's magic bleeds to orange like the rest of the ball.
Jane drops her video camera into her bag and pulls out her notebook, furiously scribbling notes in her scrawling shorthand. She taps the end of the pen against her lip as a thought occurs to her. "What about people without magic, though? I mean, it's not like I can do that. Are all the Elves able to feed The Source?"
"Fully a third of all Light Elves lack such basic magic," he explains. "In such cases, a system of barter is employed instead." He pauses as Jane takes more notes, folding his hands behind his back and humming something too quiet for Jane to identify, until she stows the camera and notebook away and holds her hand out to him.
"Where to next?" she asks eagerly.
