Potent Circumstance: A Prism of Delight and Pain
Chapter 4: Pursued
"…I think our little game ends here. So tell me, thief, how do you choose to die?"
-The Hobbit: The Desolation of Smaug
He never could see her face...which, he had to admit, was probably the most infuriating of all. A niggling voice in his mind told him he had seen her body somewhere...that it mattered more than any of his past lovers...but he didn't quite understand. He merely knew that no one else had better touch her, and no one would dare hurt her without suffering his...extreme displeasure. It made a lot to reflect on as he softly kissed the woman, gently caressing with butterfly soft flights of motion and delicate patterns.
Many thought him some sick, twisted, sadistic or masochistic lover, some animalistic brute...but, he reflected, as he carefully peppered her collarbone, that remained untrue. He rubbed his nose against her skin, smelling her...realizing that it, too, was familiar, that it screamed to be recognized. His grip on her was careful, as if he thought she might break in his grasp. 'You do break everything you touch', he thought bitterly, but didn't let it sour their moment. His lips whispered over her chest to each nipple at a time, enveloping them, his mouth warm and yielding to her flesh, his teeth just barely scraping along it.
She moaned, and it more than delighted him: It made his heart swell. His fingers seemed to remember the pale, smooth abdomen they slid down, and the curve of her hips and thighs. Her back was a tender friend from memory...his fingers skittered down and all but tickled her knees. She laughed into his neck, and he smiled, cradling her as he ghosted his hand between her legs. She gasped and bent into him, pressing her face into his shoulder.
Her voice trembled in his ear, but it was muffled somehow, muted, but again, familiar. He felt her hand dancing across his chest and down to his navel, and he knew even before her hand slipped between his legs what she intended to do. He hissed and tried shifting gently away because he couldn't think straight when she did that, but the voice, suddenly clear and distinct, whispered in his ear playfully. "Tease. After all of your flirting and stripping with your eyes, you can't open your knees?"
He yanked himself away. He knew that voice. Jane. She lay beside of him, her face suddenly as visible as the rest of her, which had quickly become less fuzzy as well. She sat up and draped her arms around his shoulders.
"I'm sorry if that was unfair."
She peeked at him from underneath her hair. "Well, Prince Loki?"
The dream world dissolved around him, and suddenly he awoke, clothed and on the floor of the cave he had shared with the real Jane for near a week and a half. A few days had passed since obtaining her wish. She lay against the opposite wall, sleeping peacefully.
He scowled. What a lovesick fool he felt like to have such a dream. He cursed himself. It was stupid, considering that even with the progress from where they had come from to where they stood, she still had a strong aversion to him. But perhaps...?
Had she not been watching him while they bathed, had she not let him hold her? Perhaps he should test her? He snuck over to her and sat quietly, watching her for some time before he hesitantly extended a hand and brushed her hair from her face. He flattened his palm against her forehead, and began weaving a dream into her slumber.
...xxx...
Jane was confused. Her dream had suddenly shifted violently from blissful calm to...well...something that felt very vivid and real. Someone was daintily drawing loops and designs on the exposed skin of her stomach and breasts. She started, and with a jolt conceived that she lay naked on some illusionary sort of feather bed with silken sheets. She felt as if she would have panicked had it been real, or under other circumstances, but felt an inexplicable sense of calm and safety. So she kept her eyes closed as the delicate and affectionate hand drew away, replaced by tender, smooth lips and a warm tongue darting out to lick at her flesh and flick at her nipples. She gasped involuntarily, without any warning whatsoever, and with perfect trust reached out blindly, looping her arms about someone's shoulders.
She didn't really want to open her eyes. Something told her she shouldn't, some cloying voice in her head. The mouth sought hers, all welcome greeting and fervent seeker of approval, gentle and patient. It left hers and took a detour across her jawline, and by the hollow of her throat; it skimmed her pulse point and pressed easy kisses to her ear and eyelids. The hands were affectionate and dainty once more, but more curious, running over her curves like a sculptor examining his or her work, over joints and bones and the last jutting vertebra of her spine, trailing tentatively through her hair.
Jane had never had someone handle her so delicately, so carefully, as if every fiber of their being adored her on some level. She felt loved, cherished even. With a pang tinged with regret and suddenly bitter nostalgia, she realized that even Thor had not done so. He was always so enthusiastic and heavy-handed, crashing through their intimacy.
But this...all of the feather-soft treatment enraptured her, made her stretch along the body she had yet to peek at, her knees brushing against other knees.
A sense of foreboding and dread settled in her stomach, but the toneless voice whispered reassurances while the man, for she knew it had to be a man, remained silent, showering her with more faint, if slightly more fervent, kisses, anywhere he could reach with them laying on their sides. She felt him rest his head in the crook of her neck, burying his face in her hair, his nose tickling her neck and his hair brushing against her cheek, tickling her. She felt him move away, and her knees part, both just before the same adoring mouth blew carefully over her more sensitive places. Jane arched forward before she had even been touched, unable to help herself.
The same warm tongue pressed gingerly against her outer lips, gliding through the valleys of her folds. Jane whimpered, her hands groping for his head to have something to hold onto. Her knees trembled, flowing to lock around his shoulders, mindful not to jab into his neck. He set to work etching a song out of her, and Jane complied without a second thought, ready to weep from a sort of ecstasy-driven high before he abruptly removed himself, replacing his mouth with his hands. Breathlessly, Jane attempted to break through the barrier and open her eyes.
Not long afterward, his hand paused in its administration of pleasure, gently pushing her thighs away from him while he once more drew away. Breathlessly, Jane cracked her eyes at last, but a hand descended over them.
'No cheating' was drawn onto her hip, and then he hovered near her, positioning her comfortably on her back without removing her makeshift blindfold, and shimmied between her knees, kneeling carefully.
She felt him, then, just shy of entering her, and a sudden fright took a hold of her. Who the hell was he? It was enough to make her open her eyes just as he had leaned over her, smoothly flowing inside of her with one precise motion.
And then her eyes flashed in anger as she hit him with all of her force, shouting shrilly and angrily, "LOKI!"
Her interjection seemed to break the spell, and Jane snapped awake still clawing at the air. She sat bolt upright and glared around into the dark. Loki sat a few feet away nursing his jaw. She noticed a long angry scratch on his throat, a small bruise forming on his jaw, and a distinct glare in his own eyes.
"Could you maybe explain why in the hell you just did that?!" Jane sibilated.
"I think you know why," he replied quietly. Red flashed across Jane's vision.
"Why? Because you want to play some stupid game of yours? I thought I made it clear I was not a piece on your damn chessboard."
"No." The retort was swift and short, clipped.
"A test, then?" Jane flashed, even more fervent. "A sick, twisted test to see how messed up you can make someone?"
He flinched harder than if she had hit him. Hurt and real anger flitted across his visage. He recoiled from her, and Jane almost felt bad for him; almost. That self-satisfied smirk never appeared, only a sort of grimace. He shifted away from her. Something twisted his features, and she perceived it to be bitterness.
"You wound me," he rejoined at last, and though his voice did not waver or break, Jane felt it by some intuition a forced strength.
"You fancy me," Jane guessed. He cringed somewhat.
"Why?" she inquired. No longer did anger completely fuel her inquiries, but a morbid yet ardent curiosity.
"Must you ask?" he snipped. Jane swallowed.
"Is that why you...why you deceived me? Why you saved my life? Why-"
"Why so many infernal queries?" he interrupted, sounding ruffled and irritated.
"Why so many slights of hand and illusions?" Jane shot back. She and Loki glared at each other, but with no heat put into it, or not really. Jane drew her blanket about herself, feeling naked even though she wasn't.
"When I say no touch-" her voice trembled, but she continued, managing to steady it -"I mean no touching. That means no contact, no bloody dreams, no fucking doubles, nothing." She sniffled, cleared her throat, and stared at him fiercely. He stared back intently, studying her, his face closed.
A noise outside shut them both up relatively quickly. She didn't protest when he moved closer, weapon drawn and eyes darting around. He might be a bastard, but he would protect her, and for that, at least, she could be grateful and give him her confidence. He reached her and drew her body behind his, and she saw a flash of green in his other hand, flaring softly against his palm.
"Do you trust me?" It came out just below a whisper, but she heard, and distinguished the words.
"Close enough," she mumbled, knowing his sharper ears would pick it up anyway. He made a noise in his throat that almost sounded approving.
Long shadows shifted and flowed just short of the cave entrance, which he had set protections around.
"Are we safe?"
"Possibly, unless-"
There echoed a sound like shattering, and he swore softly, magic curling around them. Jane figured that that had to be a bad sign.
Loki ushered her towards the back of the cave, searching for some other exit. Jane snatched up her pack on the way, and he shouldered his. They found a small opening, and after a brief pause, he pushed her into it, following just after her. Darkness enveloped them.
Jane heard someone conversing to someone else lowly in elvish by the cave mouth, and as soon as they had stumbled around two bends she hadn't known the cave contained, Loki opened his palm, a glowing stone lighting their way.
"A Witchlight," he explained shortly, not meeting her gaze.
"What did they say?" she wanted to know, speaking in a hushed undertone.
Very seriously, he replied, "They search for us."
Jane closed her eyes and swore colorfully.
She felt a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and felt glad for it despite their grievances. Her eyes opened, and she graced Loki with something close to a smile. They began picking their way through the cave, hoping it had an outing. Behind them, sounds of pursuit could be heard. Loki hurried Jane along, helping her when she needed it. After a while, squinting, Jane asked, "Is that light up ahead?"
"I believe it to be so," he remarked, squinting, too.
He slid around her as they crept closer, blade out front. They came upon the opening and peered out. They exited cautiously, snaking a path through the trees parallel to the river. Suddenly all of the woodland noises ceased, and the two of them paused cautiously. Cold rolled in, and frost crept over the ground.
"How-?" Jane whispered breathily. A drawn, determined air came over Loki. "Hide," he told her.
Jane narrowed her eyes at him. "Oh hell no; I don't ditch anyone," she snapped. He narrowed his eyes similarly. "There is no room for discussion."
She opened her mouth for a biting remark when she was violently seized from behind. Something sharp tickled her throat, and she swallowed, going very still. Glancing down, she saw blue.
"Surrender," her icy captor spat, "or the woman dies."
Her eyes widened and she met his fearfully. Did her life matter that much to him? Or would he let the Jotun bounty hunter slit her throat?
His eyes narrowed calculatingly, and Jane's heart sank and filled with dread. She screamed more from surprise than fright when he drew back and artfully flicked his wrist, watching a silver blur sail through the air; a moment later, the Frost Giant behind her slumped away, his arms falling limply and his own blade dropping somewhere to the side: the blade had hit home. Jane whirled just in time to see the life fade from him, a bright bloom of blood forming where the dagger had embedded itself in his heart. Without even thinking or realizing why, she scooped up his weapon, and by the time she had straightened up, Loki had retrieved his dagger.
And then they ran.
Jane shook, the killing fresh on her mind but her escape more important to her at that moment. Five minutes hadn't passed before a cry went up behind them. Jane nearly tripped, but Loki pulled her up just in time. The trees trembled violently in their wake, and Jane felt a blast of cold that nearly sent her off of her feet. He hissed encouragements in her ear constantly, holding back branches and helping her climb over any obstructions. They came to a clearing, with rolling hills between them and another stand of trees. "It's so open," she fretted softly, but a glance at him proved that she wasn't just paranoid. "We have to risk it anyway, don't we?" she asked, squaring her shoulders. She surprised him by taking his hand, and then they darted out to run.
They didn't get very far.
An odd sort of spear sailed out and came inches from impaling him. Jane yelped, yanking him away. Very suddenly, they were surrounded by elves and giants alike. Jane held her stolen new weapon in shaky hands, determined. The leader of each group stepped forward. The elf was the first to speak, and that time, Jane miraculously understood him.
"Loki Laufeyson," he called, "You are no longer welcome in our Realm, and as such, we have remanded custody of you to the first claim of inheritance of your traitor blood."
He stepped aside and let the Frost Giant to his right speak, "You will come with us to be duly questioned and judged for your crimes against your people."
Jane saw his jaw clenching and his teeth grinding together so hard that she feared he might injure himself. The pulse point was throbbing incredibly rapidly and noticeably on his temple. He glanced at her, then back around them.
"I suppose I have no choice—but surely you have no reason to withhold her."
Another Jotun laughed humorlessly. "No matter what smooth lies you come up with, she will come with us as well….Surely you understand what sort of risk we would be taking, do you not?"
He tried a different tactic.
"She is not involved in my other affairs. She is my hostage."
"Then she must come to stand witness against you," the same Jotun shrugged. If he could have, Loki would have had him murdered by his stare alone. An elf came up and rather viscously snatched away his dagger, handing it by the hilt to Jane, though his gaze stayed suspicious. "Although I am not sure you need be living, since we know you to be guilty."
"You have to keep him alive for the trial," Jane interrupted nervously, "he has the right to face his accuser."
"And is he not?" A female Jotun stepped forward. "We are from the collective of witnesses to his desolation of our lands."
Jane lifted her chin. "But that's hardly fair. Either way, I have a charge to present at court, so you can't kill him. Not just yet."
Mutters and grimaces went around before they finally bound him with shackles and chains, and and some sort of collar. Jane got a guard of four that gathered about her in a tight ring for transport. The elves stayed with them until they reached an archway deep within the wood.
"Here we part."
Jane, curious despite herself, stared up at the runes traversing the structure. "Is that a portal?" she gasped.
"Yes," someone replied brusquely. Swallowing, Jane stepped up onto the dais, hefting both her pack and Loki's and watching them drag him up beside of her. Even his hips were encircled in chains. 'He can't fight or fuck', she thought darkly, and almost laughed bitterly. She didn't have long to ponder it before they were underneath the arch and she was yanked forward with a lurch, falling through nothingness and feeling as if she were dunked in cold water.
They resurfaced underneath an identical arch in the middle of a ruined city covered in snow and ice. The temperature dropped considerably, and the lighting shifted...Jotunheim.
The escort of guards led them through the sad streets, where wretches young and old and little barefoot children stood watching with strange pets. Their gazes were accusing and triumphant, and thirsty for retribution. Jane didn't know that they noticed her beside of their prize amongst the blue bodies surrounding her...until a little girl child pointed, and suddenly everyone noticed her. Whispering started. After what seemed too long a time, they reached what once had been the royal palace and traipsed down a flight of stairs to the dungeons. Jane watched helplessly as they shackled Loki to a wall in one of the primitive cells that did not resemble those of Asgard in the slightest. Jane stood in the doorway, wide-eyed, until they pushed her unceremoniously back up the stairs. When she stumbled up into the open, she found that a crowd had gathered. A woman grabbed her roughly by the arm and led her towards a building that still stood intact. She knocked thrice and waited, not sparing Jane a glance.
The door opened and another woman appeared, patterned cloth covering her from head to foot and expressive designs spiraling out over her skin.
"Alfrún. We've someone that needs to stay with you. A witness." Her nose wrinkled as she eyed Jane out of the corner of her eye.
Alfrún stared at Jane long and hard before opening the door wide and letting her inside of her home. It closed faintly behind Jane, who waited for her to point to where she might be staying. Alfrún wordlessly set off town a short corridor and pushed a room door open. Jane set the two packs down, turning to thank her, but the Jotun woman had gone. Jane sat down on a small bed made up with warm fur from a creature she had never before seen and laid down, staring at the ceiling of her new sparse quarters.
An hour later, Alfrún returned. Unlike the others, her gaze seemed less distant and somewhat kind, perhaps even sympathetic.
"Would you like to visit him?" Jane almost dropped her book. "Excuse me?" she nearly squeaked. Alfrún smirked. "Have you not coupled? I see what others cannot. Do you wish to see him?"
"Are you asking if I want a conjugal visit?" Jane spluttered.
Alfrún shrugged. "It matters not to me what you do inside. I simply inquired if you wanted to visit him at all."
Blushing, Jane conceded, taking the warmer clothes from her host, who actually smiled sadly at her. Gently, she said, "It is not a secret that you wish to bear witness merely to save his life; however, I am afraid his execution date has already been set."
Jane's blood chilled and her fingers paused on the fastenings of her heavy cloak. "Execution? What of a trial?"
Alfrún bowed her head. "Jotunheim is not known for its trials or their length when they do occur. You should...say your goodbyes now."
Jane nodded numbly and finished covering herself, wondering if they would kill her, too, or make her watch. Alfrún led her outside and back to the dungeon. Jane's breath clouded around her, and she curled her fingers inside of her gloves. Her boots sent debris flying. Loki lifted his head as they drew near, and Jane saw that the collar from earlier was an iron band with runes inscribed on it, still clapped around his neck, and she figured it curbed his powers. Alfrún opened the door and held it for Jane. She was stoic once more, nodding at her, and the door clanged shut behind her.
Neither Jane nor Loki spoke at first, and then she blurted, "They never planned to have a trial. Actually, I'm pretty sure they already have someone sharpening an axe."
"I know." That surprised her. He grimaced. "I did not wish for you to see it."
Jane knelt beside of him, unconsciously brushing fine strands of hair out of his face. "I'm so sorry," she heard herself say, "You don't deserve that punishment."
He smirked bitterly. "You are perhaps one of the few that think so." He leaned into her touch as she caressed his face, conflicted, worrying her lip.
"Alfrún thinks that we...she mentioned a...conjugal visit."
He said nothing, but continued staring at her, the smirk vanishing. "And?" He whispered quietly. He searched her face. "Why have you come, Jane?"
Jane thought, then said, "I don't know myself. It's not just feeling sorry for you. It's more than that."
"And?" he interrupted sharply before she could say more. "What more? Pity? I do not need that, least of all from you."
"No I..." Jane trailed off uncertainly, bit the inside of her cheek, and then leaned in and kissed him, quickly pulling away and blushing. Tears pricked her eyes, but she leaned to kiss him again, breaking off and stumbling to her feet. She started to turn, but he caught at her wrist. She whirled and nearly glared at him. "But I hate you."
He studied her momentarily. "Not anymore," he murmured. Jane mused on it for almost five minutes, and he stood patiently waiting...And then she pushed him back against the wall violently, kissing him hard enough to bruise. He let her, as if he were a puppet whose strings she held. Her hands knotted in his hair, pulling at it and scratching his scalp, trailing them down the back of his neck as she pulled away and licked along his jawline, nipping at his pulse point. He made an odd purring sound that Jane noted as she reached down, fumbling with the clasps and holdings of his pants until she had freed him. She fondled him gently, massaging his tip and bits. His head curled down into the hollow of her throat, and with his face pressed down into her shoulder, he held her close, gasping when she managed to guide him into her around and underneath her many layers of clothing. His chains rattled, and he turned them so that he had her braced against the stone wall. Panting, knees trembling, she held her cheek over his heart while he thrust in and out of her, shielding her from view from anyone that might come by. His chilly hand found her clit, and Jane whimpered aloud. Tears were falling from her eyes.
He noticed and paused, and the genuine concern shocked Jane.
"Don't stop," she murmured, "Please don't stop."
He hesitated, but rolled his hips again, drawing her even closer and cradling her against his chest, whispering words of comfort and apologies in her ear, while his other hand stroked her hair consolingly. Jane buried her face into his shirt when she unraveled, her cries muffled. They faded into sobs. He continued to hold her even after they were both finished, kissing her hair. Jane peered up at him blearily from beneath her lashes. She swallowed down emotion and reached up to trace his cheekbone. "Tell me how to save you," she begged, "There has to be a way."
His eyes closed regretfully. "There is none. I would be out by now if there were and you know it."
Jane sniffled brokenly. "I'm not giving up. So find an answer and find it soon. What about...what about my wish? I could-"
"Keep your wish," he broke in gently.
He pulled free from her, eliciting a last gasp, and put himself away, and then they sat down on the cold floor. Jane leaned her head against his shoulder sleepily. She had almost dozed off when she snapped to attention and sat up. She fished around in her pocket and extricated his dagger and the weapon she had claimed, holding them out to him.
"Can we do...anything with these?" Her tears had begun drying on her cheeks.
"My Jane," he murmured, sweeping her hair behind her ear and wiping away the last remaining tears. "You do not even know what you have done. You gave me more than I could hope for."
Footsteps put them both on high alert, and Jane gripped the dagger tightly, handing him the other weapon. He concealed it with a flash of metal. A cold resolve settled in the pit of her stomach. Her eyes flashed a gray-reddish-black. A prison guard came to the door and opened it. Only one got assigned at once. Jotunheim didn't hold prisoners for very long.
"Your visit has ended," he leered down at them. Jane did her best to glare at him. She caught sight of a set of keys on his belt. He drug her up, and Jane struck out viciously without thinking, bunching her leg muscles underneath herself and punching upwards with her weight behind her thrust. She felt a sickening giving of skin as the dagger-Loki's dagger-sank deeply into the Jotun cage-keeper's heart. He seemed surprised, and she drew in a breath sharply, watching as the life left his eyes. He sagged toward her and she stumbled back into a pair of strong arms that eased the body off of her.
Numbly, she felt Loki take the keys from her trembling hands. She hadn't even realized she had filched them from the guard-no, the body. She had just killed a man. A moment later, Loki turned her face up to stare down into it. "We must hurry Jane. Our window of opportunity is limited."
"I killed him," she whispered dazedly. She focused on Loki. "I killed him. I killed him. I just..."
He shook her. It was then she noticed that he had gotten his restraints off, and that they lay at his feet with the keys. "No you did not. I did. Put your sins on me, Jane. Everyone else does. I did this. Now come on before they notice."
"I-wait," Jane pulled back on him, and he turned impatiently. Her eyes darted over his form. "You can't be seen..."
"We won't be," he assured her, and Jane felt an odd sensation come over her.
"Camouflage," she guessed. "And I suppose we're the only ones that can see us."
The two crept cautiously into the corridor, shutting to door of the cell and making their way to the surface. Jane shivered as soon as the open air hit her, and she felt his arm around her shoulder, moving her so that the wind whipping through the city hit him and not her. Jane pointed in the direction of the house of Alfrún. They at last made it there, and Jane held him back, staring at him. At last, she said, "Don't hurt her. She's been kind to me."
Her stomach knotted nervously, conflicted. Now that he might not die, she felt odd. She had just had a knee-trembler with him against the wall of a prison cell where he had been chained awaiting execution. Where did that leave her? She couldn't blame him that time, entirely.
He nodded, muttered "Duly noted," and hid as she knocked at the door. Alfrún answered, eyes unfathomable as they alighted on Jane.
"How was your-"
Loki stepped forward and touched two fingers to her forehead. She went unconscious immediately, and he caught her, sliding into her house and laying her out on the floor. Jane sidestepped them and closed the door behind her. "Our packs are in that back room."
Loki nodded wordlessly in acknowledgement and set about grabbing anything he found useful. Jane bit her tongue. She didn't approve of the stealing, but had nothing to leave in payment. She put a pillow under the unconscious woman's head and whispered an apology to her that she knew she wouldn't hear.
Soon Loki had a pack of supplies courtesy of Alfrún's home, and Jane had already grabbed their things from the back. "Ready?" she asked him, not looking directly at him. He frowned softly, reaching for, and dropped his arm when she shrank away. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw hurt and surprise momentarily surface in his eyes, but it was well hidden in the next second.
"Come, Jane," he instructed, striding towards the back entrance of the dwelling. Ashamed at herself, and reddening, she followed him through and out the back. Loki stopped in the wide, barren back yard, and Jane did the same. He turned, holding out the packs to her, and Jane took them, realizing he meant to transform. He took a minute to gaze at her longingly in a very non-physical contact induced way, and then he fell forward, rippling into his Bandersnatch form. Jane picked the packs up and tied them onto him, hoping she wouldn't fall off this time around.
She reasoned as she clambered into the dip that at least this time the harsh, unforgiving landscape had drifts of snow to cushion her if she did. She tied herself to him with a length of rope she had found looking around in the shed off to the side of the house, and then she leaned down, laying almost flat against his back.
"Situated?" She jumped. Loki had spoken inside of her head.
"Yes." His wings rose, and with one powerful beat, they shot into the air.
Jane fought down a scream and closed her eyes tightly. The wind stung her face, howling around them. His skin felt hot underneath, and Jane, grateful for the warmth, fell sleep without meaning to.
...xxx...
It was Little Frigga that found her. Darcy swore and stretched out a hand to pet her, finding that she couldn't be mad at her if she tried. Frigga wriggled her hips, tail wagging, and pounced into her lap. Darcy only hoped Thor hadn't followed her. She was not in the mood, not at all. She wondered how she could have kissed him. Not only did she feel guilty because of Jane, she felt guilty because of the entire mess. She had avoided him for nearly two weeks, not going to dinner or any outings. Only that day had she ventured out, and hidden herself in a far corner of the palace.
Darcy, petting her absentmindedly, didn't notice the man who slipped into the hidden garden until he sat down beside of her. "Darcy."
Darcy nearly fell off of the bench.
"Thor," she choked, coloring and shooting to her feet. He motioned for her to sit down. Frigga glowered at her, having been tossed to the ground, and huffed indignantly, turning her back on them. Thor chuckled fondly at her, then quieted.
"You know we must have words," he began lowly. Darcy dropped her head into her hands and groaned. "No."
"Yes," he said firmly, stretching out an arm and gently sitting her down. Darcy frowned, but said nothing.
"You never finished your dance lesson," he said softly, propping his elbows on his knees. Darcy cringed. "About that..."
"Darcy," Thor insisted loudly. He held up his hands. "Please...I must ask you many things-" Darcy groaned again- "such as why you...why you kissed me." He almost stuttered the last bit, and Darcy snuck a glance between her fingers. Thor was staring down intently at his hands. He spoke again, and what came out of his mouth just about made Darcy bite through her own tongue. "Darcy, do you hold...feelings...for me?" His eyes were squinched up oddly.
She helplessly opened and closed her mouth, jumping away from the bench for the second time in under a minute and a half. "I...I have stuff I forgot about, things to do. Maybe I can write you a letter later, or-"
"Darcy," Thor persisted. He stood in one fluid movement and caught her by the shoulders. Darcy shut her mouth quickly.
"There is nothing wrong with them, but..." confusion flickered over his features.
"Oh gods, why?" She moaned, trying to pull away. She didn't need this talk. She already felt pretty badly about it.
"We don't need this conversation, okay? I already feel pretty shitty and damn guilty. You think I wanted to like you...more than I should?"
She balked at his intense gaze. Thor let one eyebrow raise. "You did not answer the question. Your attempts to brush aside what happened-"
"I'm worried about Jane, and I just panicked. I do weird shit when I'm not in my right mind."
He paused, and she added, "Look, it was an accident. Just a random burst of affection. Now let's just find Jane, all right?"
He let his hands drop, but before either of them could say something else, footsteps suddenly rang out, fast approaching. Darcy scooted away from Thor and bent to examine a small Valkyrie statue just before Sif came into view. She felt the warrior woman's eyes boring into her back before she began speaking to Thor in an urgent tone. "Heimdall says that your brother had his powers dampened for quite some time, and that he felt and saw him on Jotunheim. The Warriors Three and I fear that he may be in their custody. What do you wish to do?"
Thor stiffened. Before his banishment and exile on Midgard, he might have rushed there, Mjölnir swinging furiously, to demand him back, but after all that had transpired and changed within him, he had learned to be more thoughtful and careful. He would get him back, or at least try, and he would likely visit, but he would not ride in roaring for a fight. They did not need another war. As for Darcy...their confusing interaction could wait. But something else prompted him to clap Sif on the shoulder: Jane. "Was he alone?"
"If you ask after Jane, Heimdall told me that she is hidden from all sight by some separate enchantment. She could be anywhere."
Thor bowed his head. "We shall see what I can arrange. Regardless of what he has done, we must try to save my brother. And we must continue our search. I doubt he has harmed her."
"You can hope he has not," Sif replied.
Thor did not comment on the soft scoff Sif used, or the cynical edge. He took his hand away, motioning for them to walk together and giving Darcy a last glance. Fandral appeared, then Volstagg and Hogun, and the group drifted off, discussing plans. Darcy watched them covertly, straightening up from where she had been kneeling by a strange flower, and met Little Frigga's eyes, a bit surprised that the pup hadn't followed Thor. "Just you and me, huh?" She got a yip in response, and bent to pick her up. "At least you can't trap me in an unnecessary and awkward conversation," she grumbled. Frigga growled and nipped her finger.
Darcy scowled. Of course the puppy had something to say, too, although she said it a bit differently. Darcy huffed and decided she needed a drink.
...xxx...
I meant to sit on this chapter until the next one was finished, but after not getting to publish this one with the last one despite its completion, I decided to release it instead...I don't think I'll make singles a regular habit, though, and all of the other chapters should be longer than the one before this (which is admittedly the shortest one and nine pages). I hope you continue to enjoy and that the conversion didn't mess up too much. Tell me if I missed many errors, typos, etc.
-L