Potent Circumstance: A Prism of Delight and Pain
Chapter 5: No Rest for The Wicked Or
The Weary
A/N: A long wait, I know. But I think y'all should be happy with both quality and quantity. This wasn't typed in five minutes. It was an absolute labor of love that I sincerly hope readers both new and old enjoy. Classes will be starting for me again, and I wanted to get these out in case it was a while between updates.
Love,
L.
Chapter 5: No Rest for The Wicked Or
The Weary
Carry on my wayward son
There'll be peace when you are done
Lay your weary head to rest
Don't you cry no more
-Kansas,"Carry On Wayward Son"
Jane never imagined being caught in a Jotunheim blizzard with a bandersnatch sheltering her by use of its magnificent wings. Well, she never figured bandersnatches were more than a figment of Alice's imagination, or maybe Carroll's, and yet she heard the even breathing of one beside of her. It surprised her that it felt nearly room temperature underneath the appendage (though her thick clothes likely helped that), and wondered why he had felt so warm, there in that obviously near or below zero weather, except that it had something to do with the makeup of the creature. Either way, the frumious Bandersnatch had killed some sort of frost creature that had chased them, and that had occurred just as the blizzard whipped up around them, forcing them to bear up against the storm by the lee side of the base of a rock formation.
"Comfortable, Jane?" She jumped. Would she ever get used to his speaking in her head when he transformed? She felt him shift to curl more securely around her.
"I'm fine, Loki," she replied, huddling against his flank and hugging herself. "It's not even chilly under here. Thank you. I'd probably have frozen to death on my own." She tilted her head back into his side. "How are you?"
She felt his surprise in her mind as if she could see it written in an expression of his. "I am well, considering," he answered dryly, and he added, "and it seems I owe you a drink. Perhaps I should get chained to a wall more often?"
There was no mistaking what hid behind the humor in his voice: he was a flirt even when he shifted out of his skin. Jane smacked herself on the forehead. She knew she would regret what happened in the prison as soon as she had ensured his escape because she knew, somehow, even dead, he would never let it go; surely he would haunt her dreams.
"Not even in your dreams," Jane retorted, rolling her eyes. In the next second, the memory began playing out the aforementioned scene in detail in Jane's mind unbidden, and she knew he had planted it, down to how she had felt. Even then she felt as if his finger still lingered over her clit, and she squeezed both her eyes and her legs together tightly.
"My dreams are quite lively sometimes...but my memories...those are priceless, my dear Lady."
"You're a right old bastard sometimes," Jane griped in frustration. He growled bitterly, "If only I could be so lucky. Unfortunately, my family is rather...unsavory."
"Explain," she choked, feeling as though he were still inside of her, pressing her against the wall. He shifted, and the ghost actions faded as he focused, withdrawing the memory-weaving. Jane whacked his side in what she was sure was a rather useless attempt at revenge with the hide he wore at the moment. He stayed silent for many long moments, and then said softly," I do not know the details. The letter Frigga left for me was very vague."
"Did she name anyone?" Jane asked curiously. "Or leave any instructions?"
"No," he replied sullenly, and Jane decided not to ask many more questions. She sat back with a sigh, surprised when she was not again plagued by the dredged up memory of the prison. "Through playing?" The grumble didn't come out quite as cross as she had intended it. She received no answer at first. Finally, as she drifted off to sleep, she heard a faint reply.
"Never."
…xxx...
The storm had settled when she awoke. Faint light filtered in through the membrane of Loki's wing. The fine bones arched high into the air above her head. His breathing was gentle and slow with sleep. Jane sat up carefully and reached out to touch the wing gingerly, tracing the membranous surface in fascination. She didn't notice the rumbling purr right off; it was almost indiscernible, but rose in volume steadily the longer she caressed the skin beneath her fingertips.
Startled, she pulled her touch away. The sound faded. Jane sat rather confusedly staring at her hand. Why had she done that? How could her mind have forgotten that the creature could turn back into a man, a man she had clear issues with? She didn't have long to ponder. Suddenly the wing moved-no, the entire beast moved, shaking off its covering of snow. Quite suddenly, Jane had a very large emerald green eye holding her in its gaze, trained on her so steadily that she almost balked despite knowing no harm would come to her. The great face bent down, all delicate lofty, arching cheekbones, just as when he had his usual form, and very gently nuzzled her side, breath huffing over her, touching her face tenderly. Blinking dazedly, Jane stood still as Loki rested his head against her. The movements had been calculated-Jane was much smaller and breakable than a Bandersnatch, and they both knew it.
A noise startled them. Loki's head snapped up, and Jane turned, stumbling backward against the Bandersnatch. A small blue boy stared, wide-eyed, a sleigh piled with game behind him attached to the leads on the same curious pets she had noted in the city. An old man sat at the head, a beard sprouting from his blue face and his vermilion eyes slightly clouded; he was probably half-blind.
"They're traders taking the family haul in to the city." Loki's quiet, informative statement caught Jane off guard. He growled low in his throat, and the boy, fearful, cried out to the old man.
"Don't hurt them," Jane mumbled.
"What do you take me for?" Loki actually sounded slightly offended. "I will only do that if they try to hurt us."
The two traders eyed them warily. Jane backed around Loki with their packs, hoisting herself up onto his back once more. His wings spread wide, and he took off. Jane watched the two Jotun travelers disappear far below them, hugging the wide back close.
"Where are we going?" she inquired.
"There should be another portal somewhere close by," he said, "I can feel it. Can you not?"
Jane shook her head, adding, "No...how-"
"How do you think?" He sounded short with her for once. Jane decided not to question Loki, and instead put her efforts into holding on since she hadn't got to tie herself down. It was easier to do, though, after she had started getting used to it.
Soon enough, they came across the other arch, standing alone amongst a sea of gray and white and dim blue. Loki plummeted, and Jane exclaimed using a few choice words, not comfortable until he landed, where she quickly scrabbled off and waited to hand him his pack. He withdrew back into his own form with a shimmer and ripple of green energy. He took the pack wordlessly, but paused, staring intently at Jane, who shifted uneasily. What he said surprised her. "I will release you."
Jane started and cocked her head to the side. She swallowed, the word she uttered faint. "When?"
Loki reached out and touched her cheek lightly, and she surprised them both by not flinching away from the contact.
"Whenever I can let you go."
Jane bit her lip and tried not to get too angry. "And what if you can't?" Some of the bite still made its way into the question. His eyes flashed and his hand dropped.
"Promise me," Jane insisted, "that you won't try and keep me with you."
An odd sort of bitter, twisted smile curved his lips upward. His head tilted sideways. "Rather foolish, to trust my word, is it not?"
Jane narrowed her eyes. Taking a chance, she replied, "If you love me, you will." She felt queasy as soon as the words left her mouth. He froze from head to toe, his features contorting and then smoothing over completely into a mask of unreadable calm. His hands flashed out to grab her and he brought her to him, locking his mouth onto hers, his tongue tracing her lips. He held her close, one hand cradling her head, the other snaked around her. Shocked, Jane went limp, her mouth unmoving. He pulled back and stared at her from underneath his lashes. Pain swam in the depths of his stare, and hints of self-loathing, self-mockery, and sorrow. All of it turned into the vicious defensive cruelty she was familiar with. "And why," he murmured, bending to kiss her throat, "might I love you? You simpering wad of insecurity and neediness? No. You're just a human, Jane. And not much of one, aside from being weak."
He drew her into another long kiss just as she struggled to grace him with her trademark frenzy attack. He caught her wrists, twisting them gently away, and trailed a hand down her back. Angry tears sprang into the corners of her eyes and she bit his bottom lip in a very non-loving, non-friendly, get-the-hell-off-me sort of way. He cut the kiss short and instead just held her. Jane trembled with fury. She knew him, which meant she knew he didn't mean it, or at least not exactly the way it sounded. He did have feelings for her, and he deflected violently when he felt vulnerable. Only half of her realized that, though. The other half felt a rush of new hurt and hatred, and righteous indignation, wanted to be just as cruel; moreover, the enlightened half couldn't stop her other half from crying frustratedly, or hissing into his ear as her eyes glinted, "I knew I hated you, and I should have let them kill you when I had the chance to be rid of you. You deserve what they want to do to you, and you deserve to die alone."
He went rigid almost instantly. He pushed her away and turned his back on her for a full minute before he faced her again. Jane saw the most imperceptible slump in his shoulders, and the look in his eyes then...And in the silence that settled between them, staring into his burning eyes, she understood the many ways a person could die but still live. She stepped forward, helpless, watching a wounded man watch her. "That is what you want, then, is it? To have me take you back to your precious Thor and your passionless love? He would make you weak!"
"And what do you make me?" Jane snapped. "Just because he wasn't perfect doesn't mean I didn't love him!"
Loki grabbed her again, but by the arms. He lost some of his fervency and instead sounded desperate. "Then tell me why you cannot love me, if it is so easy to love Thor."
Jane held his gaze. "Because he gives instead of always taking; because he is honest with me; he doesn't try to deceive me and he always asks."
Loki looked at her, really looked at her, and took his hands off of her. "You don't know how to stop, do you?" She whispered.
"You already know the answer to that."
Jane swallowed emotion and hugged herself. Neither one of them could look at each other for a long while. Jane wiped away half-frozen tears, shivering.
"Come on, unless you want to freeze to death," Loki snapped at her. She let her eyes drift upward onto him from the snow to her left.
"Well, you're no use to me dead," he said casually in answer to her unspoken question.
She marched past him and stood just shy of the arch.
"You're incorrigible," she sighed tiredly, defeated. Fingers twined with hers, and, glancing downward, she saw that Loki had taken her hand in his. Before she could curse at him, he stepped through the portal, taking her with him, and Jane fell through to the other side, only getting a brief moment to wonder where exactly it might be.
...xxx...
While Thor held a meeting with his council, Darcy was sitting in a garden playing with Little Frigga when a portal opened up beside of her. It startled her so much that she nearly fell leaping off of and away from the bench on which she had been sitting. The puppy gave a yip and sprang up curiously despite her protests. A woman had stepped through with a young man in his teens. Her eyes-which Darcy noted were brown and ringed-darted about quickly, landing on her and her small companion. The newcomer had long blonde hair pulled to the side in a ponytail with a blue ribbon, and wore boots, elbow-length cornflower blue gloves, a smart blue dress, and a silvery-gray cloak. The teen was tall and pale, with dark hair and startling electric blue eyes, and an innocent face. His cloak was blue, too, but darker and without hints of silver, and his clothes were plainer, though just as nice. He, too, stared at Darcy, his gaze eerily intense.
The woman lifted one pale eyebrow, tugging a glove off and extending her hand. Darcy blinked at it momentarily, then awkwardly took it when she realized it was an offer for help. She accepted, and got pulled to her feet. Looking down at the dainty hand as she released it, she saw how fair it was. Of course, her mouth had, as usual, sped ahead of the rest of her and her thought process as she blurted, "Who the fuck are you?"
"Who the fuck are you?" the woman retorted.
She seemed amused by the interaction while the teen seemed taken aback by it.
"Mordred," he supplied in a quiet voice. "And you are Darcy Lewis, and this is Naryu." Darcy blushed crimson. Was this someone she was supposed to know? She wracked her brain for any information whatsoever. Coming up empty, she hoped she didn't look as clueless as she felt. She was pretty sure just anyone wasn't allowed to make portals directly into Asgard unless they knew one of the Aesir or were jonesing for a world of pain.
"Do you know where Thor might be found?" The woman-Naryu-asked politely, still seemingly amused.
"He's in a meeting with his council," Darcy rejoined, still somewhat flustered. "I don't know about interrupting it-"
"He'll want to see me," Naryu said knowingly, serious, the amused spark gone. She and Mordred began walking off with Frigga trailing after them playfully. Darcy got up and followed them. The puppy trotting in front of her darted to the head of the party, jumping up at Naryu.
Naryu stopped. She stared down at the wriggling, excited little creature.
"What's her name?"
Darcy paused before answering. "Frigga."
"Mother must be amused," Naryu remarked. Darcy stiffened. Mother? So this was a daughter of hers. Didn't she know? How would she tell her that her mother was dead?
Naryu picked Little Frigga up and continued on to her destination. She seemed to know her way around very well, and Darcy grew more filled with dread. She had to have lived there and grown up there. That was the only explanation. They reached the council room and Naryu opened it and stepped inside without knocking. Mordred followed in her wake. Darcy, shocked, hovered at the threshold peeking in, apprehensive.
The discussion was so heated, with everyone speaking, and Thor didn't see her at first: no one did. But Darcy knew when he did. He glanced upward, and his eyes widened. He immediately broke off mid-sentence and stared at her in silence. "Sister." He sounded disbelieving. Naryu rushed forward the last few steps as everyone looked around and literally threw herself at Thor. He was quick to wrap her in an embrace and lift her up. Darcy wondered how she still managed to look so dignified as she did so and figured it was an Aesir thing.
Thor lowered her to the floor and held her out from him.
"I see you are well. How have your travels treated you?"
"Well," she replied, smiling. Her eyes darted about excitedly as she looked for someone. The expectancy coloring her features gave Darcy new curiosity. Who would she search for so? The next words spoken answered her questions and made her heart plummet into her stomach.
"Where are Mother and Loki? I must see them. We have much to discuss."
A heavy silence settled over the room, and a look of such sadness came over Thor that no one had to say anything. A half-strangled sob echoed. "Which one of them?" Naryu quavered, though it was audible throughout the room, "Which one of them has left us?" Her head turned to the side, and then she pulled away from him shakily, turning the rest of her body around so she could stare each person in the face. Tears shone in her eyes. "Both?" she whispered brokenly. Mordred stood helplessly for a moment, and then he tried to put an arm around her.
"No," Thor replied, swallowing. "Only Mother. Loki yet lives. For now, at least."
Naryu whirled. "What did he do now?" Her voice shook dangerously. "If he got her killed with a stupid prank I swear I'll wring his neck myself!"
"No, it was not his doing," Thor responded.
"Then how?" It came out as a harsh bark. "Who? Where is he? I leave for one bloody year, which is like what, a week to your kind, and then this?"
Thor began explaining hesitantly. He sighed, pausing, and continued, "...During the attack, many Asgardians were killed, including Mother."
"And?" Naryu snarled tensely.
"As you know, she was a fighter. A fierce swordsman that never backed down. She died protecting Jane." He swallowed. "I managed to strike him with my lightening, and burn half of his face, but Malekith and Algrim escaped."
Naryu had stilled. "She suggested that I go, that I take Mordred with me, that there was nothing I could do around here then, and I...I listened to her. She said her attendants would be enough. But they weren't, were they?"
"Actually, dear lady, they were salvaged. Weeping, bloody, ragged- but alive." Fandral had interrupted. The glance she gave him was withering and could have quelled anyone. Darcy just felt glad he bore the brunt of it.
"You impotent, incompetent buffoons!" she screeched. "She was your Queen, your Lady, your MOTHER...my mother."
Another sob escaped her, and Darcy noticed that some of the furniture had begun to tremble at the outburst, surrounded in a soft, silvery-blue haze. "And you lost her. You lost her and there's no one else like her, no one to take her place. She held everyone together. This family, nations."
Just as she had exploded with emotion, the furniture ceased its trembling and a strange, cold, composed calm came over her. She drew herself upright to her fullest and exhaled, saying almost serenely, "Now tell me, dear heart, where our beloved brother is?"
Thor glided towards her and clapped his large hand over her small shoulder.
"His custody has been remanded to Jotunheim."
Naryu straightened even more if possible, and spat venomously, "What else did you let happen?"
Thor cleared his throat uncomfortably. "He has Jane, my-"
"His consort," Sif inserted. Thor gave her a sharp glance. The warrior woman lifted her chin defiantly. "Is she not?" she asked softly.
Naryu whistled. "Cue the cleanup crew of Me, Myself, and I," she remarked bitterly.
Darcy shifted uncomfortably, forgotten by the door. She watched as Naryu stormed past her and away from the room, Mordred keeping pace with her. She turned just in time to see Thor nod his head in the same direction. "Follow her, one of you."
Sif detached herself from the others and started to do so. Thor held her back and whispered something to her. Her eyes flashed and hardened, but she nodded and gave him a half-bow, murmuring what sounded like a low apology.
And then she, too, was gone.
Little Frigga let off a soulful howl.
...xxx...
Gasping, tensed, and the tiniest amount of scared, Jane kept her eyes tightly shut even when nothing happened. She opened them hesitantly. A vibrant blue sky and tranquil sunlight, sparkling waters and green pastures, demure valleys, and rolling hills; she took it all in and felt an amazing sense of peace. Only then did she realize that Loki still had a hold on her hand. She let her eyes trail downward. The pad of his thumb rested just above her wrist.
"This...is Vanaheim. The kingdom Frigga came from before her marriage to Odin, where she dwelt before, and her birthplace."
Obviously it held special meaning. He sounded very solemn, and strained, but also sort of reverent, wistful, nostalgic, and full of unresolved longing. He cleared his throat and spoke again. "She brought me here in my youth with Naryu while Fa-Odin and Thor remained behind. We spent many happy days here."
Jane felt very sorry and kind of mortified. He sounded a touch strangled. The emotions attached to the place could only be genuine, and arriving had dredged them up with old memories. Then another thought hit her. There had been another name thrown into the mix that she had not failed to notice. "Wait, she and who?"
A flicker of something stole over his features as he stared down at her sidelong.
"The Queen's ward, raised as our sister."
"You were close," Jane surmised. He smiled briefly, genuinely, and nodded once, and Jane saw that much of the usual bitterness had left him for the moment. "Yes," he whispered. "I always had her."
"Where is she now?" Jane asked gently. Still, he held her hand, his thumb making small circles where it rested. His face darkened a bit. "She does not know that Mo-Frigga is dead."
Jane sucked in a breath and wished she hadn't asked. She also wished latently that she hadn't been so harsh with him as she had been only minutes before in Jotunheim. She fought down her own pride and forced her anger to reside, gently loosening his hold and turning in to him to give him a -if somewhat stiff and awkward-sincere hug. He straightened in surprise and very carefully returned the gesture. "You're not alone now," she mumbled, biting her lip. She meant it, but it would take all of her patience. Jane knew she couldn't continuously be unkind to him, though: it just was not a part of her nature. Even if he had done some terrible things. If she wasn't kind, who would be? It wasn't as if he had anyone else at the moment.
She resisted the urge to flinch when he rested his chin on the crown of head, kissing her hair. He held his hands cautiously by her shoulder blades, and gradually, Jane relaxed. It was when she tipped her head up to peek at him that he swooped in to kiss her. Typical Loki.
It was over before she could protest, quick and chaste, and apologetic. It said everything he didn't know how, couldn't. Her lips parted, but she closed them and decided not to mention it. She sighed and stepped away. His arms dropped from her.
Jane nibbled on the inside of her cheek but searched for the source of a faint mew that caught her attention. She tilted her head from side to side, eyebrow raised and expression questioning. Loki, too, seemed to have heard, and searched with her. He pointed, and together, she a pace behind him just in case, they advanced toward the lush shrubbery to their left. Before they even reached it, an undersized forest cat darted out and stood defensively, hissing at them, tail a waving warning flag and whiskers akimbo-fashion.
"Is it a normal cat?" Jane posed lightly. Loki chuckled bitterly.
"Unfortunately."
"Unfortunately?"
He gave her a rather amused expression. "Have you never owned a cat, Jane Foster?"
Jane smirked, catching on to what he meant. "Haven't had the pleasure. Why?"
The cat spat at them, ears flattened and lips drawn back in a snarl. "Because they are notoriously hard to tame, harder than bandersnatches or dragons at times."
"You lie," Jane said disbelievingly.
Loki quirked an eyebrow at her. "Not this time, I am afraid."
Just then, it lunged at them, caterwauling furiously. Loki bent and caught it dexterously, holding it out and away as claws swiped. With his other hand a glowing green, he touched it lightly on the nose. It went limp, dazed. He spoke to it quickly in some strange tongue, murmuring and growling in a low, silky, rumble, and then the cat calmed. It curled into his wrist, started purring. Carefully, he moved so that he held it out to Jane. It sniffed her and drug purple eyes over her from top to bottom. Loki told it something else, and then it reached for Jane in a friendly manner.
"Are you always this good with animals?" She knew she must seem terribly awed. Perhaps she had been a bit.
Loki snorted. "Apparently. Do you not hear gossip when you research?"
It took Jane a moment to get his gist, and then she colored horribly.
"I assure you, my Lady, I have never fucked a horse or a goat, or whatever else they say...mostly only you, in fact."
Jane's blush deepened, and again, unbidden, and this time without Loki's assistance, she felt the ghost movements of him, his body alive within and against hers, and then the dream he had given her rode in on the coattails of the physical memory.
"Good to know, I think," she choked embarrassedly.
He drew her close and held the cat between them. It glanced upward at them both and began cuddling against them. "He is yours to name."
Jane closed her eyes to think. "Silas," she whispered at last. "It means 'Of the forest.'"
The newly named Silas leaned his head against her breast and purred. Looking down, she didn't notice Loki leaning until he stole his third kiss, running his tongue over her lips. The temptation to bite him again arose and fell. After all, the kinky bastard might be hinky enough to like it. Jane took a small step back before he could attempt another and glared at a rock by her foot. "Where do we go from here?"
Silas clambered out of her arms and onto her shoulder, draping himself around her neck.
"He better not have ticks or flees," she muttered.
"He might," Loki quipped, "but I will be more than happy to search you later, just to make sure."
Jane leveled a warning scowl at him. He shrugged and continued, "In answer to your question, there should be a settlement near here. There we should be able to acquire horses and ride to the Capitol."
"Sounds legit." She readjusted her pack, mindful of their new companion, and started walking.
"I suppose you're trying to avoid drawing attention to us by not flying us there?"
"You assume correctly," he replied. They trudged onward in silence for some time. Eventually, they crested a rise and found themselves looking down on a small town.
"This is...quaint," Jane told him. It had a sort of charm to it, much different from Alfheim; no high rises or skyscrapers, but buildings that still soared elegantly alongside squat and cozy little houses and broad establishments. There was, of course, a longhouse, too, but many things were situated alongside and around it. She saw Loki smile softly. Well, at least they weren't fighting (again) for the moment. And for the moment she had grudgingly forgiven him, knowing that even if he didn't love her, he had not meant to be so cruel, apologizing in his own way.
Their pace quickened, and soon they stood across from a small inn.
"Does that say 'Same As It Never Was'? Jane inquired, squinting up at the sign. Loki glanced at her with his surprise not hidden. "Roughly. When did you learn to-"
"I've been practicing," Jane cut in just a touch smugly. A satisfied smirk superseded his surprise. "That's my Jane."
Jane scoffed. "I didn't do it for you, I assure you."
"Oh, I know," he responded airily, to which she rolled her eyes in consternation. Silas pressed his cheek to her neck and purred.
They entered the building and Loki went to the counter, speaking in hushed tones with the attendant. Jane crept up and stood a little behind him. Once again, to her surprise and amazement, she understood.
"I am sorry, sir, but the only available room has but one bed. The Day of Colors is in four and a half days' time and many have begun traveling to the Capitol, which has but a town between here and there. You must understand that this is a last stop for that many migrating in this direction. You are lucky to have a room at all here. I fear you will find not much difference at the other inns here, and I offer the same services for a lower cost."
Jane heard Loki curse under his breath, then bring out a few coins to drop into the owner's hands. An old woman came out from the back, wiping her hands on her apron, and led them up a flight of stairs to their lodgings. She produced a key and opened the door for them, handing the key to Jane, who took it and put it in her pocket. She left them to their own devices soon afterward, and Jane threw her pack down, inspecting the room: A plush rug covered most of the floor; there sat a double wardrobe against one wall, and a large, queen-sized bed took up the entire center of the room, a four-poster with privacy hangings; nice paintings adorned the walls, and a small bookshelf and a writing desk occupied corners opposite of each other. A door led off, likely to a bathroom. Silas leapt from her and slunk underneath the bed.
"You of course may bathe and do whatever necessary to make yourself comfortable," she heard Loki tell her. She nodded mutely, eyeing him. He ran a hand through his hair. Noticing her stare after a moment, he remarked, half-amused, "Did no one ever tell you how very improper staring is, Jane?"
Jane scoffed softly, "Pot meet kettle."
At that, he chuckled, and set his pack on a side table, rummaging around for something. "I advise you start before I become impatient and go in myself. I would hate to interrupt-"
"You better not," Jane chided, grabbing up her pack again, "or you will pay dearly."
Of course, being himself, he stepped forward boldly and proclaimed, "Ooh, I do so like the sound of that. Tell me, how would you punish me?"
Jane waggled an admonishing finger at him. "Not the way you're insinuating."
He backed her up right to the closed bathroom door, arms at either side of her on the doorframe, looking at her from underneath his long lashes.
"And what way could I mean?" He started to lean in for yet another kiss, but, thinking quickly, Jane ducked down and swung the door open, slipping inside and closing it firmly behind her. "You know exactly what I mean, you scoundrel!"
He laughed lightly from the other side, but moved away after a moment. Jane locked the door and drug a little table of perfumes and oils directly in front of it, even if she did deem it useless since she was pretty sure he could get in anyway if he chose to do so.
One month with Loki was an emotional roller coaster ride akin to a year, all ups and downs and hot and cold moments; one moment he could be so infuriating, the next a vulnerable mess, and in yet another a shameless flirt with a tongue made to spin lies and serve out lusty comments. You couldn't do anything with him. He almost grew on you, Jane mused, although sometimes he felt more like a tumor.
Pawing came from the other side of the door accompanied by a long scratch and a plaintive wail, all of which interrupted her pondering. Silas. She had forgotten about him. She crept to the door and cracked it just enough to let the creature inside. Cats could be creepy sometimes, but he couldn't be nearly as bad as his co-owner. She grabbed a small basin and drew water into it, then glanced down at him. He sat by her feet curiously. Perhaps she should let Loki bathe him? But to her surprise, the cat leapt up onto the counter and daintily stepped into the water, purring. Well. That was easy.
She got one of the soaps and sniffed. It smelled like lavender and sweet pea. She scrubbed a small bath brush over it to get it lathered and then began gently massaging it through Silas' fur. To her relief, she neither saw nor felt any flees or ticks and the creature seemed to enjoy being cleaned by someone else. When she was satisfied with his state of cleanliness, she rinsed him off and took him out, fluffing his fur and drying him. Silas curled up and tucked his head beneath his paws for a nap.
Jane took a relaxing bath of her own, and carefully stepped over Silas, opening the door. Loki was nowhere in sight, the room empty when she reentered it. She shrugged it off and pulled the covers of the bed back, snuggling into it. Ten minutes later, he returned, unlocking the door with a flare of green energy.
"Where were you?"
He arched one eyebrow sassily. "And you suddenly care so much? Do not ask if you do not want to know."
Jane threw a pillow at him that he caught in one dexterous flick of his wrist.
"Temper, temper," he tsked.
"I'll show you a temper," Jane mumbled. Changing the subject, she gestured toward the bathroom. "Our cat likes water. Oh, and don't step on him. He's napping in the bathroom."
Loki smirked teasingly, and his eyes glimmered. "Why Jane. How dare you let another male watch you bathe."
Jane colored despite herself and made a face. "Unlike you, he doesn't want to jump my bones and he isn't a shape-shifting pervert."
Loki scoffed in mock indignation. "You question my honor?"
"I question your everything," Jane retorted. She shifted away from the center of the large bed and glared warningly. "No border crossing."
He sashayed across the room to the bathroom, and she heard that insufferable grin in his voice as he said, "Too little, too late. I am unsure of how many we have left."
The door clicked closed and Jane watched it until he emerged, his hair sleek and wet and wearing casual clothes. Silas padded out groggily and shook, mostly dry, going over to the bed and jumping up beside of Jane, who moved over for him and pushed herself into a sitting position. Loki sat down on the opposite side, as far away from Jane as possible, and cradled his head in his hands, elbows to knees and shoulders slumped. He seemed so lonely then, and fragile, like a baby bird fallen out of a nest, and Jane got a glimpse, perhaps, of something she thought he hoped for, amongst all of his many charades-to be accepted and embraced unconditionally, to be comforted by someone, if only for a moment, and in her mind there rebounded images and echoed his fervent request from the prison when she had killed someone without meaning to:
"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."
How far would he go to keep someone he cared about from suffering his fate? A rush of confused, muddled emotions washed over her. He was so confounding. His actions didn't ever match his words, it seemed.
"You're a mess." She hadn't meant to utter it aloud. He twisted around and stared at her fiercely. "What did you say?"
"I just meant that...well, you're sort of falling apart."
"I am not."
"Ever since I've met you, you're one confusing flurry."
That seemed to set something off in him.
"Do not mock me. Do not mock a pain that you have not endured."
The outburst stunned Jane a little. Where had his playfulness gone? Or had that been a cover for how Vanaheim made him feel, for how she did?
"I'm not mocking you," she replied gently, startling herself. She gingerly stretched out a hand and let her fingertips trail over his cheek. He flinched as if he expected her to strike him, but hesitantly accepted the touch. Jane was sure she seemed confusing, too, but nothing she did was an act. Her conflicted feelings and their ups and downs had her as much at odds with herself as with Loki, and vice versa, she ventured. He had hurt her thoughtlessly before, but he had obviously not meant to; and though that neither made it any better nor redeemed him, it made her understand, and that, coupled with everything genuinely nice, caring, or partially good he had done invoked an openness in her, a wary half-trusting caring.
Damn her foolish spirit.
He tilted his head and kissed the inside of her wrist carefully. Jane had to fight down her instinct to yank it out of his reach. He twisted around the rest of the way and brought her into a hug. Jane tensed, but when he made no other move, relaxed. All he needed was comfort, and she need not worry about anything else. He let her go and dropped his gaze. "Please, let me hold you."
Jane had to wonder if it, too, were an act, but dismissed the thought. The pain saturating him couldn't have been faked: it was too real. So she acquiesced, and stared at the long, trailing hangings of the four-poster. Silas meowed at her and snuggled against her abdomen.
Between a wild-cat and a wildcard, she fell asleep.
...xxx...
There wasn't a damn thing Thor could do with his sister, especially when she was on the rampage.
"Jotunheim? Fucking Jotunheim-by the Nine, who let that happen? Who do they think they are?!"
He watched as she paced about impatiently, clearly not wanting to wait for her diplomatic escort into the other upper-though not high (this was a clearly made political distinction) - kingdom. Of any province, territory, kingdom, or principality, it had rivalries with just about everyone. She spun around and glared at nothing in particular as she had at intervals in between bouts of indignant ranting for the past hour and a half. Perhaps he should make her see reason?
"Naryu-"
"Don't even," she snapped. She shot him a dirty look that softened into resigned frustration. "Forgive my sharpness with you."
Naryu got across the room to him in three swift strides, brought him into a brief but full embrace, kissed his cheek, and then twirled, striding briskly out of the room. Mordred cast Thor a neutral glance, detaching himself from the wall where he had observed her coolly.
"Take care of her," Thor said firmly.
"I will," Mordred assured him, both confident and composed. He flitted out after her. Thor sighed heavily and sat down at the head of the council table, regarding the then empty chamber somberly. If he couldn't hold himself or his family together, what hope had he as king?
Someone at the still open door cleared their throat. Thor raised his head and leveled a countenance full of doubt and exhaustion towards the source of the sound. Darcy stood there, half-apologetic and half-anxious. She opened and closed her mouth several times, cleared her throat three, and then ended up throwing her hands up in defeat and turning to leave. Thor stood up abruptly, nearly sending his chair flying. "Wait."
Darcy froze. Thor approached her, pausing a foot away. "Darcy Lewis, I need your honesty."
Darcy faced him slowly. For once, she cast her eyes downward and spoke in a terribly formal and completely out of character manner. "My lord would not like my answers."
She knew that if she unleashed the magnificent wave that made up her ruthless honesty, Thor as he was at that moment might not be able to take it, and there was absolutely no taking it well. She was brutal and brash and blunt, but for the first time in her life, she remained silent when someone asked how she saw it. What would "telling it like it is" do to Thor? It didn't take a genius to see that his brother had daddy issues and his sister sort of held everyone together and lost it when she thought someone had messed with her own, her extraordinary temper erupting; it took someone who got to see more because they got left behind to realize that Thor hurt just as deeply, took things just as badly, even if he let his bravado and prowess shield him. His ability to not get shitfaced and his courageous battle attitude (and bloodlust) were infamous before he began changing. And perhaps it was witnessing that mask crumble that keyed Darcy in on his being just a teddy bear, and instead of breaking like his brother, he got torn asunder; but instead of taking it out on others, he kept it within himself. He looked to her like the loneliest, burning man in all the realms.
It made her heart hurt.
What could she say to him? What could she use to comfort him? How could she possibly offer anything that resembled strength? So Darcy Lewis made a decision. Darcy Lewis decided to lie through her teeth and hoped he wouldn't notice (much). At present, she dodged the request. "We never finished that dance lesson," she managed to choke out with relative collection.
She could tell it took him by surprise. He seemed at a loss, and then she felt incredibly stupid. Of all the idiotic things she could blurt out, she had to bring that up? Her lips tingled inconveniently as if remembering his. She cursed herself mentally, feeling heat flood her face. She had to get away before she screwed up more. Her heart practically slammed against her ribcage when he actually took those last few steps and took her up into her dancing posture. She licked her lips nervously as he drew her patiently into the step, and this time she didn't step on his feet once.
"Holy hell. I think I actually moved up to two left feet," she joked. She got rewarded by a rumbling chuckle by her ear, her cheek resting on Thor's broad shoulder.
"There's your tongue. I see it still works."
Darcy felt her face begin to tinge magenta.
"Not the way it's supposed to," she muttered. He chuckled again and held her closer. After a minute, he slowed a bit, thoughtful. "Do you know that you have grown dearer to me since you came, Darcy?"
Darcy swallowed. If only she didn't have those damn feelings; it made her wish he didn't mean merely friendship. If she were honest with herself the way she layered it on thick with everyone else, she knew she sort of had this thing that had grown from a stupid crush, sprouting into something she barely recognized. Of course she didn't love him; that would be silly. But still. It sort of happened to be intense.
If only it lacked the complexity it did, what with his family in disarray and Jane gone, and his duties. Even if it got pared down, would there be anything left of him for her? She shook her head, slightly angry with herself. She should focus on the dance and the movement of her body, and not those thoughts or his breathing, so very close and measured. Fuck it all, what had happened to the focus? Apparently it lacked a corporeal form. Grunting frustratedly, she didn't notice his pause until he tipped her chin up and stared down into her eyes, saying her name concernedly. That made her feel worse since it only gave him another worry.
"Darcy, are you well?"
Thor squinted uncertainly. Why did she look that way? It was strange to him, especially after their many varying encounters. She seemed more closed off from him and anxious, shyer than was normal. Something hid in her eyes, something he wanted to fish out and examine. It puzzled him to an extent. He knew she cared for him deeply, but sensed some indescribable shift, one that had made her kiss him. He hadn't really processed the fact until then. Darcy had kissed him, and not on his cheek as his sister had. She had kissed him the way...the way Jane had. Except not. Hers had a...a spark of sorts. This puzzled him further. He realized that he had been staring intensely while he mused those things, and that her eyes had become as round as saucers.
Her lips parted, drawing his attention, and he saw her tongue dart out nervously, a flash of pink on plump flesh, and this awoke another strange, and again puzzling, feeling. What was it she invoked in him? It sent a keen foreign tune through his mind, because not only did it differ from how he felt about Jane, it didn't compare to anything he felt about anyone else. It stayed peculiar and increased in peculiarity. His eyes met hers, her confused, intent, guarded expression, then back down to her mouth as she drew in a sharp breath.
She blinked and shook her head, moving away from him, and he felt an odd sense of loss of something he hadn't known had appeared.
"It's almost time for lunch. We should go."
He felt himself nod numbly, and start to step forward when he felt her hand on his chest through his tunic, holding him back.
"Thor?" She sounded both small and strangled.
"I need help...could you...nothing."
He caught her elbow and brought her back to him. "I cannot help you if you do not ask, Darcy," he explained gently. He watched her nibble her bottom lip and nod uncertainly.
"I want you to kiss me, and then be honest with me on whether or not you...feel...anything."
"Like what?" Thor asked curiously, pushing her hair behind her ear. Darcy swallowed. That simple action seemed to make speech difficult for her. He saw that tears had formed, and he used the pad of his thumb to wipe at them.
"Of course I will help you."
He bent his head and ever so softly pushed his lips against hers, molding them gingerly into their shape. Darcy whimpered in a very heartbreaking and confusion-inducing way for Thor, and he drew away as if he had hurt her. He had felt tears on his face from hers.
"You are upset."
"I'm not fucking upset," Darcy cried frustratedly. "Dammit," she sobbed. "You poor big, oblivious, man. You're clueless, aren't you? You don't get it, do you?"
She swallowed thickly. "I knew this was a bad idea," she sniffed.
Her sudden emotional state distressed him greatly. He thought perhaps another kiss might cheer her up, so he picked her up, wrapping her securely in his embrace, and tenderly started kissing her for the third time; he took his time, learned the contours of the outside of her mouth, and then, to his own surprise, the inside. His tongue withdrew and swiped at the corners of her mouth, the creases, the outline, and then slithered back inside, caressing her tongue. Darcy's breathing had quickly gone ragged in a way he recognized, which made him pull away. His brow scrunched and it dawned on him, with all of those lovely, jagged puzzle pieces. "You do have feelings for me."
"You think?" she panted breathlessly, chest heaving. More tears had fallen. A glimmer of hope shone in her eyes even as she straightened her jacket and backed away. "Obviously it isn't mutual, so-"
"Darcy-"
"No Thor. I can't do this anymore. I can't pretend. You know, and I know, and maybe the timing is abso-fucking-lutely horrible-actually, it's crystal fucking clear it is-but either you do something about it or walk away. Be honest."
She stared at him fiercely, and when he said nothing for almost five minutes, she said bitterly, "That's what I expected. It's probably for the best, anyway." Choking on emotion, she turned to leave when Thor once again prevented it. She started to curse at him when he picked her up and set her on the table so that they were the same height. He kept eye contact, and then said very quietly, "I mean to give you a real kiss this time."
...xxx...
Get ready for some pain and angst guys, and hurt/comfort. I apologise if I seem overly cruel. Toodles.