29. Flight
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It had been a long night and a slow morning, and tired as she was, she still hadn't managed to sleep much. Knowing that Darcy was around to make her a nearly lethal cup of coffee was probably the only thing which had allowed her the strength to stagger out of her trailer before noon. The caffeine was definitely the only thing keeping her on task. To the extent that she was on task, that is.
When she found herself fussing with her hair and trying out more than one shade of lip gloss, she knew it was long past time to ask her intern to drop her off at the bifrost site. She didn't feel fit to drive, she was a danger to herself and others behind that wheel at the best of times, and taking this out there with no escape route probably gave her better odds on not chickening out.
The mid-morning sun glinted on the metal components in her machine, its tall bulk thrusting up out of the sand like a sentry tower, a mute witness.
Loki was sitting cross-legged on the ground nearby, his hands stretched out behind him and his face turned up as if he were sunbathing. Jane was fairly convinced it wasn't actually possible for him to tan- either that or sunscreen technology had come a long way on Asgard- or she'd think he was working on it. His shirt had changed from white to black, but he still wore the first few buttons unbuttoned and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. She wondered if he'd been doing something, working magic maybe, or if this was some new picture he was painting for her benefit. A careless and ordinary type of picture.
Jane chewed her lip a little as she walked up behind him, standing over him hesitantly. He knew she was there, his nose crinkling as she blocked his sun, but he didn't open his eyes. She bent down to put her hands on his shoulders, dropping to her knees in the sand at his back when he straightened up under the touch, and resting them there a moment while she breathed deeply and contemplated appropriate ice breakers. Then she slid her fingers into his hair. She swept it back from his face and gathered it at the base of his skull, on impulse tugging the elastic out of her own hair to secure a ponytail.
Loki allowed this without complaint, then he turned and raised an eyebrow at her over his shoulder, his mouth pursed in disapproval but a tell-tale dimple appearing in his right cheek.
"Keeps it out of your face when you're busy," she said quickly.
The eyebrow arched even more incredulously, his eyes flicking to her own nearly-always-loose and often-in-her-mouth hair. "Really? How interesting. And here was I, having somehow lived this long without ever having learnt that."
Well, it was actually still getting in his face even as he said so, the wind had tossed some wisps too short to be contained by the elastic across his forehead.
She smiled sheepishly. "Do you mind?"
He faltered, looking into the middle distance with a comic frown as he ran his hand over the unfamiliar style. "I suppose not."
"Good." She smoothed her fingers over his brow and tucked the loose hair behind his ear. "Because I like it on you."
His mouth twitched, his eyes sliding away from hers.
"Yes, really. Anyway, you guys wear braids at home, don't you? Thor was, I noticed."
"Most do," he said uneasily, clearly keen that she change the subject.
"You never have." She should change the subject, she certainly didn't come here to talk to him about fashion- but she still hadn't figured out what to say.
"It hasn't been long enough of late. I cut it off some time ago. Mother tutted over it, but I could hardly look less fitting for my part for that."
Jane pouted in thought, letting her gaze travel over him again. She tried to imagine his world, his context, to see in him some glimpse of the terrible consuming lack he saw so readily in himself. His clever hands were clasped over his raised knee, long and narrow with their graceful fingers she'd seen command wonders out of thin air and coax elegant cohesion from disparate components. To her, they were almost unbearably attractive, both inherently beautiful in their form and representative of the beauty of which he was capable.
Muscles shifted in his lithe arms and across his chest as he adjusted his grip and she wondered if he could possibly be looked down on quite as much as he thought. He was obviously fit, obviously strong, still huge and solidly built if not quite as gargantuan as Thor, and he fought hand-to-hand with a skill even her clueless eye could appreciate- wasn't that enough for his physical, warrior culture? How much more could you ask of a soldier? Even if he were only human, she was confident he would easily be able to take any person of her acquaintance with one hand tied behind his back.
And, honestly, his hair was glorious. The depth of the black against his fair skin, the perfect way it framed his face when he didn't shellac it down, the curl at the ends- what did he think was so terrible about that? Who'd told him it was?
"I like the way you look," was all she said, Queen of Understatement.
"Thor had been gone some time when I arrived here."
Jane rolled her eyes so hard she worried she'd pull something. "You dick. You really think…?"
He tipped his chin at her and she could have decked him.
"You are not sucking me into this petty rivalry bullshit if you insinuate until you're blue in the face. I'm a grown up. Seriously, what do you think is going on here, anyway?"
Loki opened his hands, not quite shrugging. "I have abandoned the hope of knowing. A madwoman was pawing at me unprovoked, then it was all riveting discussion of Asgardian coiffure."
She had to laugh, blushing a little that he was calling her on it, and he smiled.
His gaze fell along with his smile. "Jane, I… to recruit you against Thor as a weapon- you know the accusation was not without justice, and before you tell me of your decision, I want you to…. The only true power I have ever had, has been in the use of my intellect, to turn whatever force I could to my advantage without being seen or heard. Anyone can be a pawn. I did not wish to be any longer."
"I know." She sighed, leaning her head on her fist. She might have anticipated he wouldn't just let her stall forever. "I really wasn't… I mean, you know what that's like from the other side. Why perpetuate it?"
"The things I thought were important… it had always seemed a fair trade. At times I felt justified, at times I thought nothing of consequences. My father's words on the subject and his actions taught quite different lessons- I must warn you, the house of Odin is full of hypocrites."
Jane stewed a moment, not certain what she wanted to push. "Why didn't you ever include him- your father- when you were telling me stuff in… I guess, code, is a way of putting it. When you were translating your past to Africa?"
He sucked at the inside of his cheek and she knew it still wasn't at all a safe subject.
"I mean, you talked quite a bit about your mother."
His gaze flashed to her and away. "My mother-" he stopped, his heated retort cut short.
"You didn't have to prove yourself to her?" It was a guess, but she considered it a good one.
"Of course I did," he snapped, then winced and took a steadying breath. "But she, perhaps foolishly, also saw the use of me just as I was. She taught me magic as a child. If it is so distasteful, I don't see..."
"Well, what's supposed to be wrong with magic? According to Thor, it's in the same category as science at your place. I'm thinking that's because it actually is science, but let's not fight."
Loki indulged her with a wry look, but he was fidgety and breathing a bit too shallow for her to believe he was relaxed. "It occupies much of the same… shall we say utility? Discourse? It is a matter of careful, cloistered study to achieve understanding, but the mundane and ignorant use of it extends to the lowliest sectors of society. Our magical technology, as you would call it, is perfectly of a piece with ordinary weapons in the life of a warrior, for example. A SHIELD agent uses a gun, he does not design and build one. He likely has only the vaguest idea of how it works."
"With you so far," she encouraged.
"Thor uses Mjolnir, Mjolnir is made up of great power and channels magic, but Thor does not do magic- the hammer is a dumb tool, it responds without effort. Theory, musty books, misdirection, indirect engagement- that is the stuff of personal magic, living magic which challenges the will of the caster. I do personal magic. I take a dim view of berserker battles, I would prefer not to die senselessly, I am of the opinion that good tactics can be used to avoid fighting altogether. This isn't having slightly more cleverness than a rock, this is cowardice, trickery. Deception. Effeminate. So it goes."
"You don't have scholars? Engineers? Architects? Those people aren't respected?"
He squinted one eye and half-smiled at her, slightly amused and slightly mocking. "So quick, Jane Foster, but missing the obvious."
"What's obvious?" she protested, raising her eyebrows.
"You so often forget, perhaps I should be offended. I wasn't born free as some third son of a rich minor house, my life a leisurely stroll in whatever direction took my fancy, dutiful brothers carrying the burden of glory if I should skive off to ply a trade. I was a prince."
She did tend to block it out. It was one of those things she was still coming to terms with. "Princes can't be academics?"
"They can, so long as they don't show it too badly." He shot her a pained grin. "Certainly I was expected to learn and to act as Thor's advisor in the more boring matters of state, but I was also expected to be a proper son of Odin and it was there that I fell short. I don't find there is such a fine line between bravery and idiocy in my character, and that begets wiliness, which is tantamount to treachery. Magic of my kind on the field of battle is inherently dishonest, for women and elves. My mother liked to teach me, I had thought she was proud..."
Jane felt helpless, wanting to offer something but floundering to make sense of it all. "You know, not presuming to tell you your business or anything, but if she and your dad thought you could keep Thor in line, that seems like thinking an awful lot of you. I'm an only child, but I've had friends who were 'the responsible one' and sometimes… I mean, do you think it's possible she worried about you less because she was proud and she took you for granted?"
He looked at her hollowly, an echoing emptiness his only expression.
"That doesn't… not that that makes it better. Erik made me… I'm not saying it's okay for them to make you feel like you had to…."
His fingers clenched and unclenched around his wrist, the skin going red under the force of his grip. "I tried to do what he would have done, I tried to be the son he would have wanted. As always, it was my methods which were objectionable."
Something shifted in her chest, a cloak of heaviness, like pins and needles, settling itself invisibly around her shoulders. She folded her hands one around the other, hanging on to herself for dear life. "But you know that… you don't think…?"
He looked almost aged by his grimace, the pull of his frown making temporary lines crease his face. "Finally your misplaced confidence in me begins to erode?"
She narrowed her eyes at him, ready to come out swinging.
"I could never have a place there so long as Thor lived- I thought such thoughts often."
Soul-sick and angry, she shook her head. "Please don't do this now. Don't try to push me away."
His eyes widened, his voice was full of sincerity, "I'm not. I want you to understand. When I most tried to live up to the ideal which was expected of me, I became a horror- to myself more than to anyone else. I don't wish to be a monster, but it seems it cannot be avoided. Attempting to deny my blood only proved it to be true."
"No," she said, softly but insistently, "no, that isn't what happened."
"How can I trust myself?"
Jane rubbed her hands over her face, pulling the skin until the stretch was painful. She was here, she was in this, she couldn't do anything but move forward. "Okay, you asked me once about my dad and why I didn't do what he wanted me to do with my life, and I get what we were really talking about now. I get why you need to know. Because it's my life and he loved me- he'd want me to be happy, he'd be proud that... and… like, it doesn't matter that…. Let me try again; forget that, let me try again.
"Loki, it doesn't matter what people want for you or from you, if… you're the one who has to live with your decisions. You're the one who has to look yourself in the eye in the mirror. If you thought it was wrong, you shouldn't have done it."
Despair seemed to shrivel him, shrink him. "You do not understand."
"What? What is it that I don't understand? I want to!"
"I was trying to be good! What they wanted me to be! It was supposed to be right, the way it ended up would have been exactly-"
"But it felt wrong, you never agreed with-"
He hung his head between his raised knees, crossing his hands over the back of his neck. "I barely… I was in a fit. From my cradle, I heard the songs of his heroics, his conquests, and if I could use my talents to his ends, perhaps…! Perhaps there would have been a place for my talents at his side… my own people, my real people… they were never people to us. Do you see, Jane? Can you possibly see?"
She put her hand on his neck, too, pressing down in little soothing circles as his own fingers slowly unclenched and fell away.
"Your race is so soft, so complacent- yet primitive, base, warlike. Are you not confused?"
"Sometimes."
"What of honour? Humans value it?"
"It really doesn't require fighting."
His hand suddenly sprang up and seized her forearm. "Everything I have done, I did..." he stopped, his mouth working soundlessly.
Jane's gaze flicked to his fingers, then back to his face. Horror and devastating vulnerability broke over his expression like a fire catching light.
"In vanity. Selfishness."
She squinted, not following his sudden change of mood.
"What else was it to think winning his favour was so terribly important?" His hand fell away from her and he reached up to squeeze his temples, shielding his eyes from view. "Bor's blood, you should have listened to Thor. Whatever he told you, I'm sure it was nothing but the truth."
She tugged his sleeve until he looked at her. "I came out here to tell you I'll go with you to Asgard, if that's what you want. Nothing you've said about it changes the fact that I know you can get me home again."
He stared at her, his face slack with shock.
"Only if that's what you want. Or you could stay here."
"Stay?" he repeated, like he'd never heard the word before.
"With me," she said firmly, trying not to sound nervous. "You can stay here with me."
He glanced around as though he suspected an ambush, swallowing heavily as he refocussed on her. "What of your dreams?"
"I built the bridge, didn't I? That was actually more than my original dream." She fiddled with her cuff, the denim on her jacket worn almost to threads. "It was never about going there until..."
He smiled, his eyes too bright. "Until my brother."
The sinking feeling was there again, weighing her down like an anchor, pulling her into the sand. "Loki, none of this has been about Thor for a really long time. I worried about him, but I know he's okay now and… none of it is about him."
He raised an eyebrow again, miserable smile frozen in place.
"You know why I want to go." She nodded slightly, willing him to acknowledge what this was really about. He had known what he was asking her yesterday, and what her saying yes would mean. She was sure of that.
"Impetuous curiosity. It will doom you one day."
"Yeah," she admitted impatiently, her frustration mounting, "but there's something more important right now. I can live with not going. Easily! Gracefully, even. So I want you to know- I want you to fully understand that you absolutely do not have to take me for my sake, because I can absolutely live with not going. My question is: can you? Because for me, I don't have to, but I will. I trust you and I'll go with you, if you need to."
He licked his lips, she could see his chest rising and falling rapidly with his shallow breathing, the V of exposed skin at his collar like a chink in his armour.
"What do you think?" she prompted.
"I decided that it was my wish to take you," he announced crisply, his accent extra prim and his voice theatrically resonant, "so I will."
The eyes which met hers when he turned his head burned. Once again she'd failed to talk him into a corner right when it seemed like he was on the ropes, failed to get acceptance from him on the right terms. "I think," she started, having no idea how to reopen the issue from another direction. It was too important not to try, much too important that they be on the same page.
Loki held up a finger with sharp insistence, his head tilting as he listened to something she could not hear.
Jane glanced around, seeing nothing in any direction, not even the tell tale dust cloud which would give away any approaching car.
His raised index finger slowly curled back into his fist and he pressed his lips together in obvious displeasure. "Our friends again. They have been amassing in greater forces since the bifrost was activated. Nine land vehicles and two helicopters are hidden in the village. They have been given orders to proceed when ready now that Thor has gone. They expect I shall present less challenge in capture and have become confident that I was bluffing."
Like a movie on fast-forward, she vividly imagined about fourteen different ways this latest surprise party could end and every single one of those scenarios had something in it she wasn't prepared to accept. And just when she was learning to be cautious, too. Wasn't that always the way.
"Let's go, then," she said, standing up.
Loki's jaw moved as his gaze followed her rise from his place on the ground, then his teeth clicked as he shut it. "What?"
She stuck her hand out, as if to help him up, though she doubted she could actually handle so much as a stiff breeze at the moment, the way her knees were trembling. "I said let's go. Fire up the rainbow bridge, Mr Wizard. I can argue just as good in space as here. You'll protect me."
"What of Erik Selvig and Miss Lewis?" he protested, gesturing in the direction of the lab as he rose. "You don't expect SHIELD to give up while you are gone?"
"Erik threw his lot in with them already, and he can take care of himself from the inside, he knows what he's dealing with. Darcy doesn't know anything they don't know and she's not a scientist. You don't disappear someone who'll be missed when they can't even help you. They're not total idiots."
He looked sceptical on this point.
"Overload the bridge before it closes, make sure there's nothing left for them to use. They've got nothing."
"And when you return? They will still be here."
"I'll make a new deal with them. They'd have to catch me first before they could stop me going public. No working prototype, I encrypted all my notes after last time they raided me, Erik gave them everything he had- which wasn't much because he couldn't follow what we were doing. All the cards will be in my hands." She hoped she sounded confident about that, because she was flying by the seat of her pants.
He tapped his lips with his fingertips while she held her breath.
How did this keep getting turned around? How many times was one of them going to end up talking the other into or out of this? They were as bad as each other.
"Yes, I suppose so." He held out his arms as her equipment roared to life behind him, seemingly of its own accord.
Uncertain of what he wanted her to do, she stepped closer and stopped. He nodded very slightly, his hands beckoning, and she walked right up to him, hesitatingly placing her arms around his waist. His hand came up and pressed her head into his chest, shuffling her even closer until she could feel the hard lines of his body tight against hers from head to toe. His muscles were tense under her touch, his skin hot as he channelled magic. Well energy, anyway.
Was she really prepared to believe in magic?
There was a wrenching sensation and she shut her eyes tight, clinging to him for dear life. An explosion like ten million fireworks went off inside her eyelids and reality itself shifted to one side like a car skidding on ice before melting entirely away. The only tangible things in the universe were the death grip of Loki's arms around her and his frantic heartbeat fluttering against her cheek.