Potent Circumstance: A Prism of Delight and Pain
Chapter 6: Alchemy
"When some elements come together they create a reaction that can't be reversed. They transcend chemistry."
-Dexter
When Jane woke up and opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was Loki, asleep and not causing any trouble whatsoever. She had rolled over in her sleep, the likely reason Silas had disappeared and in her ending up with an arm curled underneath her with her body pulled partially over Loki. All she could do was stare. His hair had dried, all silky fine and everywhere, and his lips were pursed. His side and chest rose and fell with each breath, and he had purple shadows cast underneath his lashes, darker against his pale skin. His face was open, and a yellowing splotch of discoloration showed where she had socked him for the dream, the accompanying scratches evidence, too. She could feel an odd warmth emanating from him, and a soft smell came off of him, a gentle, familiar scent. She thought about going back to sleep, and had just fluttered her eyes closed when she felt a sharp squeeze on her breast, nails digging in slightly.
Her eyes flew back open and she gasped. He jumped and muttered but failed to awaken. Of course. Who else but Loki would end up dragging someone down into a situation? Jane tried wriggling away, and got the hand moved off of her breast only to have the entire arm draped over her, pulling her flat against him. His heart drummed just beneath her ear. It wouldn't have been quite so bad if he hadn't rolled over himself, which pretty much set him at least partially on top of her. Damn him. Of course he was a wild sleeper. And then, of bloody course, right, he purred. Well then. The odds were certainly never in her favor, or at least not recently.
She inched her hand out until it was free, and then she used it to shake his shoulder.
"Get off of me," she hissed into his ear. He didn't seem to stir in the least. Frustrated, Jane pushed at him again, and her squirming movements brushed against him, their thighs rubbing. He made a soft sleep noise of contentment and snuggled into her. Just damn him. Damn him and everything about him. Jane huffed and tried again, and ended up jabbing him in the throat. He grunted grumpily and moved his head, ending up laying it across her chest.
She knew if he wasn't awake before that that had to have done the job, and that he was either a very deep sleeper or an ass for not moving. Figuring more on the latter as being more likely, she wondered how she could ever pay him in kind. She raised her hand to slap him when his darted out to grab her wrist, one eye creaking open blearily.
"Is this the 'assault the royalty morning'?" he inquired sourly. Jane eyed him balefully.
"It might end up being that if you don't drag your royal ass off of me instead of draping over me like a couch cover and groping me in your sleep."
His eyes sparkled and a rather wicked if groggy grin spread across his features.
"Oh? And what all did I do to you?"
Jane smacked her own forehead. "What you always do. Complicate things more than necessary."
"Is that so?" he said quietly. He propped himself up on his elbows and knees over her, his stare tracing her upper body. He reached out and plucked up a delicate strand of her brown hair, twirling it between his fingers. He eyed her almost broodingly.
"Jane," he began haltingly, trailing off with his brow scrunched. She had been staring up at him, watching the almost petulant and certainly conflicted way emotions welled up to the surface. He seemed to master himself a bit, and leaned down, pressuring her down into the bed with a kiss, his knee sliding between her legs. Jane protested instantly, and, to her surprise, he pulled back immediately, though with hurt flashing into his eyes.
"You can't keep doing that," she said angrily, eyes sparking indignantly.
"Doing what?" He sounded genuinely confused, sitting all of the way back.
"You can't keep throwing me away and tricking me and using me, or making me feel like absolute crap, and then crawl back to me and expect me to just open my legs for you like it's some arrangement between us."
He flinched and looked down at his hand on the comforter. "Jane, I-"
"You can't keep hurting me and expect me not to feel the pain."
Jane sat up and drew in on herself, knees pressing into her chest and arms holding herself together. Loki seemed at a loss. He stretched a hand out to her shoulder, but she shrugged it off of her. "What gives you the right?" Her voice shook with pain. She was tired of going back and forth, of being angry and then feeling sorry for him. She was tired of him sometimes. He gave her emotional whiplash. Only the night before he had yelled at her before showing his own brokenness. His hand tightened on the material beneath it, his jaw clenched, and his nose wrinkled.
"I apologize if I am not the best at good permanent relationships," he replied sharply, "but in case you failed to notice, I have had scant practice."
Jane felt her chest constrict, her heart clenching. "Well, kidnapping was never the best way to start one." The bitterness came out unbidden, accidentally, and she saw him cringe. "I suppose not."
They sat in silence for a few minutes until Jane, who had been staring very hard at the chest of drawers, felt him lay his hand very gently, very carefully, and very deliberately on top of hers. "I do not normally ask for forgiveness...but I do seek yours."
Jane changed her focus to the lamp, but not to him. She heard him sigh, and felt him squeeze her hand tentatively. She knew he wouldn't beg for her clemency. He hadn't even in the prison. But faced with his death, had she not went to him because he was a so called monster, because he had no one else?
"Can you not look at me?" he whispered. Jane hesitated, but did. His eyes seemed so pleading, but unexpectant. He didn't seem dangerous at all right then, just lonely and a world of other swirling feelings and emotions, and he evoked utter chaos within her. One thing she never felt with or for him was pity, and she knew he was glad for it. She leaned forward and gave him a very soft, very light kiss on the corner of his mouth, but lingered before drawing away completely, a finger tracing the bridge of his nose. His eyes closed, and he relaxed beneath the touch.
"Baby steps," she murmured. "I cannot and will not promise you of all people anything."
He started to speak, but an insistent knocking started at the door. "I came to ask if ye wanted breakfast," the old woman that had been their guide called from the other side.
"Hungry?" He didn't seem as if he cared much about breakfast, but Jane nodded and said, "You had better eat something, too."
"Why? Going to slap me again?"
"I might," she retorted. She pushed off of the bed and shuffled over to her bag for a book.
"I'm not averse to hitting, as you know," she added, half-amused. She heard him chuckle.
"I know; you've shown that aversion on multiple occasions."
Jane had to stifle a laugh and ended up snorting, which resulted in making them both laugh.
"Oh, do shut up," she snapped half-heartedly.
She straightened as he opened the door. The old woman came in bearing a tray that she set on the table.
"Will that be all?"
"Yes," they both replied at once. The woman bowed at the waist and left them. They ate in almost companionable silence, Jane eating far more. She frowned at him as he pushed food around his plate. "Lose your appetite?" She was only half teasing. He scowled softly, nibbling his lip, but did not deign to designate a response. Jane sighed, and once they had both eaten what they were going to, they both started preparing themselves for the day.
"Where are we even going now?" Jane blurted, yanking on her boots. "Will we leave and travel for the Capitol today, or will we rest?"
"I believe it best to acquire transportation and leave as soon as possible if we are to make it to the Capitol for the festival," Loki mused. Jane had a silly thought pop into her head that made her giggle. "You could just turn into my horse, you know," she teased, "I'm sure you wouldn't mind if I rode you, but you might be worn out..." She snorted and had to cover her mouth to stifle her laughter. He eyed her, half amused and playful and half genuinely indignant. He covered the confusion in how to feel by plastering on a mischievous smirk and saying, "You already did, and we both fared quite well, I would say."
Jane flushed and threw the nearest object at hand at him-it just happened to be the book she had finished a bit earlier. He ducked just as it neared his head, sailing over him and knocking against the wall.
"Prone to violence, my dear?" he chuckled, seeming to decide on being amused and playful.
"Only when you're concerned," she retorted, huffing. "You usually deserve it though, and you know it."
"Usually? Deserving?" He mock-pouted. "How unflattering. What an uncouth thing to say against me."
"But true." She shook her head wearily, finding affection that surprised her. "Incorrigible man," she muttered, combing a hand through her hair, and grinning despite herself. She saw warmth spark in his eyes, conceiving that in spite of their many calamity-filled moments, of both survival and conflict as well as strife, either between them or directed at them, they had grown closer, at least a bit. They sort of had a natural symphony when paired; it made her curious, wondering what things could have been like had they met under different circumstances. It all boiled down to a give and take, good and bad, minute-by-minute basis, fraught with their jangled emotions-he was someone you could switch between loving and hating by the day, someone that made you pay attention, open your eyes.
Jane blinked her own, having processed that all very quickly as she stopped, checking to make sure nothing had fallen or been knocked down or forgotten. She straightened and almost stumbled-Silas had darted about, under her feet and in the way-falling back into something solid and realizing that Loki must have caught her again. He steadied her with an arm around her waist, not removing it immediately, and she struggled internally, sick with herself for wanting to both pull as far away from the unexpected touch as she could and lean into it as much as was possible. As usual, she reverted to her gruff self, her emotions concerning him much too complex and overwhelming for her at that moment. Mercifully, he removed himself from her close proximity, seeming to sense her discomfort and shift in mood from her accommodation to his brokenness during the night. As usual for him, he grew pensive and closed himself off from her, silence pervading. How mercurial they both could be!
Packed, they collected what little they had, waiting as Silas jumped onto Jane's shoulders, Loki closing the room door. "Could you transfigure Silas into something?" The question fell from her lips as she thought it. Loki quirked a brow at her as they descended the stairs leisurely.
"I suppose. However, he would have to be more than an ordinary horse."
Jane cackled at her own queer train of thought. "Maybe a Jubjub bird? It would be relatively fast, moderately comfortable, certainly large enough, and reasonable protection."
Not expecting him to take her seriously, it floored her when he nodded seriously, all traces of play vanishing. "It would work and be less conspicuous than having me cart you around and transform at your whim."
Jane bit her tongue frustratedly to stem a reproachful retort, deciding to listen.
He shot her a glance, lip curling upward. "What, expect me to tell you it was a ridiculous idea? It wasn't half bad, actually, even if you were jesting." Jane scowled at Loki darkly, feeling childishly like sticking her tongue out at him. Silas hissed, apparently irritated with their squabbling.
"You'll hate us a lot more in a minute, I venture to say," Jane remarked.
"A safe venture," Loki commented.
They exited the building, strolling down the street and through the town with Jane watching the inhabitants. They came across a small market, weaving their way through stalled pathways and narrow alleys, dodging carts and children. The outskirts of the settlement came into view, and soon they had gotten through those, too, once more hitting rolling hills and scattered woodlands like the ones they first encountered at the portal. Despite having discussed transfiguring Silas, they walked quietly together, side-by-side, arms nearly brushing, Jane finding that she found it easier and easier not to flinch at every accidental point of contact. Both of them were in deep thought, heavily preoccupied within their own musings, although Loki had a part of him that stayed alert, watching out for them.
Glancing at the sky, Jane said, "Does that look like rain to you?"
Tilting his head back, Loki opened his mouth to reply just as the sky seemingly split open to spill over them. Jane screeched, covering her head uselessly. Silas wailed and sprang away, dashing into the underbrush. Jane darted after him instantly, not thinking, slipping over leaves and through muddied tracks of those that had gone before them, person and creature alike, branches snatching at her. Loki sprinted off in pursuit. The damn cat could get her killed-she could fall and break her damn neck or get impaled; she could hit her head and drown in an inch of water-and Loki would not have that. He snarled at the sentiment she had for the little beast, an unreasonable hatred suddenly flaring. If anything, and he meant anything, happened to her chasing it, he would skin it alive before he tortured it.
He could hear it mewling in the distance, pelted by the sudden downpour, and through the water dripping from his lashes, he glimpsed Jane, who, when he caught up to her, not having heard him approach, spun and collided with him, the force and momentum added to the slippery footing knocking her over. She fell with a gasp, wincing, and he knelt to assist her, proffering a hand. Jane chewed her lip and stared at it, then up at him, and he stared back. Her clothes clung to her body, her nipples visible through the soaked material of her dress, and her hair curled around her shoulders and breasts. His hair had done the same thing, curling around his neck. She took the hand, merely holding it, and seemingly started to rise up...just before the type of mischievous glimmer that usually appeared on him got displayed on her, and she yanked at him, catching him off guard and off balance, and brought him down into the mud with her. Out of nowhere, the startled Silas hurled himself into her arms. She scrutinized the three of them, mouth twitching with the slightest upturn. "We look like three drowned rats," she snickered, rain running over her chin.
Seeing the perplexed expression Loki wore, she seemed to sober, and blurted, "I...I love the rain. My mother could never keep me inside when I was a child. I always played in it, found the biggest puddles and the messiest mud, and sort of rejoiced in it. Watching...it's peaceful."
Loki's forehead wrinkled. "I do not see how...you do not seem like that would please you."
Jane scoffed. "Why?"
Loki shrugged petulantly, unsure why he thought it if he were honest about it. He glanced down at the mud splattering his robes and grimaced. "We shall have to change when this is over."
"Not that you mind taking you clothes off," Jane baited. It made him chuckle.
"Regrettably, I must say, you do."
Jane pushed him and accidentally sent him sprawling in the mud. She gasped, hand flying to her mouth, and setting down Silas, crawled over to Loki, peering at him from underneath her lashes.
"Did I hurt-" she cut off abruptly and screeched as he pulled her off balance, landing her on top of him. Jane scrabbled upwards quickly, trying to find footing but failing, and repeatedly flopped or slid onto him. Finally able to straddle him, Jane blushed furiously. She cleared her throat and met his eyes hesitantly.
"Why did you do that?" Jane whispered. He regarded her intensely. "Must I have to justify my every action?"
Jane shifted the tiniest bit, and he closed his eyes, swallowing.
He was thankful Jane was oblivious to exactly how she made him feel inside...and of course that she hadn't noticed she was making him hard quickly, her heat pressing him to his body.
"It would be nice to have reasons," Jane snipped. Her head tilted. He realized that she had been watching his lips move. Did that mean...?
"You're so difficult to handle," she sighed, looking away. Her eyes strayed back to him. "We should find somewhere to wait out the storm where we can change and wash."
Heat coiled in his stomach. How oblivious indeed...or indifferent. He had essentially called her worthless after her sacrifice for him. He did not deserve her. He could not touch her without exacting some price. He was surprised he could touch her at all.
"Reasons hardly matter," he responded quietly, garnering her attention, "After all, would any reason I have make you forgive me, or not make you think about my taking you under pretense of being another?"
Jane whimpered, and he realized that some of the new droplets on her cheeks came from her eyes and not the heavens. "Do you want me to hate you?" The words came out in a rushed harsh hiss.
"Foolish woman," he growled, sliding an arm around her waist and flipping them so that her back was the one pressed into the mud. Jane flinched away from his hovering form. He sighed, kissing her forehead, and backed away. "I would rather you loved me," he muttered.
Her eyes snapped open. "What? You're joking, aren't you? You practically ripped my heart out when I said..."
His jaw clenched, and he glared steadily away as she managed to sit upright.
"But that's why you did it. You're not joking," she whispered. Her eyes widened considerably as she considered. "The prison...last night...they meant something else to you, didn't they?"
He hated to admit that they had given him hope. "I did not mean to draw you into my plans against Thor."
"Yes you did," she said ardently, "And you know it. You saw your chance to be with me and you took it when you knew he was away."
Loki flinched. "I am not proud of everything I have done, Jane, especially anything that hurt you of all people."
Jane heard the ache in his voice...the pain was so fine, the blade of a knife, so exquisite...it cut at her heart until nothing of who she had been certain she was remained. She trembled, suddenly very cold, and noticing, he drew her into his arms carefully, not holding her too closely, but enough to help warm her. He fought down his desire and let his caring take over, his protectiveness, glad it started making him soft again. He stood with her in his arms, a bit surprised that she didn't struggle, and carried her until he found a stand of tightly grown trees, their topmost branches interwoven, offering shelter. There he dropped to his knees and set her down momentarily, swinging the pack around to find a blanket. Jane sat back against a tree, knees to her chest, watching him.
"Take off your clothes."
"W-What?!" Jane jumped. Had she heard correctly? He rolled his eyes and smiled bitterly. "There is a small cave just there." He pointed. "You will need to be kept warm."
Jane's mouth set in a firm line, and, chagrined, she rose to her feet using the tree for support, stumbling and ducking into the cave mouth, which Loki quickly inspected and deemed safe. Silas sniffed around, mewling approval, trotting off into the darkness and returning lazily.
Jane turned her back on Loki while she stripped, peeling off her wet clothes and shucking them onto the floor. She would have been self-conscious if not for his many times having had to bathe in the same stream, and therefore seeing her naked, though she could not help being inherently conscious of his eyes on her once more, tracing over her curves and edges. She sighed, turning.
"Must you do that?" Guilt flashed across him before he buried it, shrugging.
"Your underwear is wet as well. You will have to remove it."
Jane blushed heavily, fists clenching against her legs where her hands had hung limply. "No," she bit out through teeth clamped closed with emotion. Loki scoffed. "I would have harmed you by how if I wished it, and I would not commit any violence against you anyway. You know this."
"It's not that sort of violence I'm worried about," Jane muttered, arms belted about her chest. He drew in a breath sharply. Softly, sounding crushed and strangled, he spat, "You think so lowly of me that you believe I would rape you?"
Jane hesitated, thoughtful, and then finally said, "...No, I suppose not. You would ask as you usually do. And when I say no, you leave me alone."
Jane stared down at her feet. She heard him approach, saw the toes of his boots when he did, felt his breath stirring the air-and then she felt his hands very tentatively, gingerly, almost as if he were afraid to do so, settle on her hips by the waistband of her underwear, his thumbs resting on her skin. "You do not have to fear me," he whispered. "You of all people will never have to fear me."
Jane swallowed thickly, knowing he meant it, and that he regretted her pain. She felt a fat tear well up and drip down her cheek, and his left hand rise to swipe it away with the tip of his thumb. He hugged her then, cautiously, then broke away to strip himself, laying out two blankets on the floor with a pillow he had stolen, and transfiguring a small pebble by his foot into another thick, quilted one. He gestured at the makeshift nest and sat cross-legged amongst the mess, beckoning Jane forward. He tossed her a towel, patting himself dry.
Shivering, Jane decided to just rip off the metaphorical Band-Aid and shimmied out of her underwear, putting them with the rest of their clothing laid out to dry. Lowering herself once she had dried her skin, she gripped the thick top blanket protectively around her, swallowing and not speaking. She heard Loki stir, and then he said pleadingly, the concern evident, "Come here, Jane. My body heat will stop your tremors."
Jane laughed bitterly at that. "Heat?"
She met his suddenly closed off expression. "I do have some in this form," he added quietly, playing with a loose thread by his waist. Jane puffed her cheeks and exhaled, reclining fully and rolling towards him, hesitant to relax fully in his arms in her current state. His needing someone the other night had been one thing, but cuddling and snuggling her during a storm to keep her warm? That was quite another.
Stiffly, holding very still, she let him cradle her against him, finding the touch astoundingly comforting as much as it was muddling and disconcerting. But perhaps what disconcerted her more than it being Loki was that a tiny, soft-spoken part of her knew she had started growing some sort of feelings for him-not love, but confusing and painful all the same, feelings that could perhaps be love if she could ever get past what lay between them. And if she did? She shuddered physically at the thought, and Loki, thinking her chilled, pressed her closer, stroking her hair and rubbing soothing patterns on her back and shoulders, her skin seeming to warm with every time around.
"Why do you care so much sometimes?" Jane blurted, and she felt his soothing movements jerk to a halt.
Amused again, he snickered and rejoined, "Well, it is rather difficult. You like hitting me far too much for my liking."
Jane snorted, temporarily forgetting about her predicament. "I could say the same with that first bit. You don't know how conflicted I am sometimes about whether or not to strangle you or hug you."
"And now?" She felt him carelessly pick up a strand of hair and rub it between his long fingers. She leaned her head into his chest, defeated, and peered up at the shadows underneath his chin and jawline. Her throat went dry, her tongue darting out to lick her lips. "I-I don't know, Loki. I don't know."
She felt his hand carefully trail her spine from the nape of her neck to just below where her bra line would run and pause.
"Try," he murmured by her ear, holding completely still.
"I can't," she replied honestly. "Don't ask me about...anything about us."
"Us?" Loki inquired curiously, hushed, and Jane groaned in consternation, mentally slapping herself.
"You know what I mean," she mumbled. She heard him make some sort of noise in his throat, and then he rested his chin on the crown of her head. She didn't even realize until her eyes drooped that she had become a little sleepy from the warmth, and drowsily and rather unconsciously, she snuggled even closer, sighing. "I just know," she whispered, thinking him asleep with his light and even breathing, "that on a good day, you make me feel safe. Safe because I know that even though you hurt me, although you didn't mean to, you would never let anyone else do anything to me, and for that I'm both grateful and less surprised by as time passes."
She dozed off, and Loki watched her side rise and fall thoughtfully, thinking of every mistake he had made with her and hating them all.
...xxx...
Thor had just held her after the kiss, his long arms hanging loosely about her, his forehead resting against hers, and it gave Darcy a sort of peace. His breathing, even and gentle, fluttered past her shoulder and throat.
"So we both have feelings."
"I believe so," Thor replied.
Darcy leaned back a bit and stared up at him, dazed, her kissed lips a bright, flushed pink and pursed as she scrutinized him. "What the hell do we do?" Her whisper was barely audible. "What can we do?"
"I do not know," Thor sighed helplessly. "Under normal circumstance, we would..."
He leaned to kiss her again, his hand cupping her cheek, and Darcy met him half-way.
They both broke off, of course, when a surprised gasp came from the door, jerking back from each other. Luckily for Darcy, Thor sort of shielded her from view, and she dared not try to peek and see who had caught them kissing.
Sif's voice rang out angrily.
"You have me look for Jane but take up affections behind her back?"
Darcy rolled her eyes. How rich. It was quite obvious Sif had no love for Jane.
"It is not what you think," Thor rumbled, staring into Darcy's eyes sadly. "I did not plan to have any feelings."
"You did not have to let them consume and rule you," she hissed. Thor stiffened, his eyes hardened, and he removed his arms from around Darcy, turning carefully to keep from revealing her. "Do not speak to me of things you neither know nothing about nor try to. You are no friend of Jane's, though if you want to prove your loyalty to me, you will leave without another word and speak of this to no one."
Darcy heard Sif gasp. "That is much to ask of me."
"You can offer your life to me in battle but not your silence in our home?"
"Never ask it of me again," Sif snapped at last, sweeping from the room. Quickly swinging from the table as soon as the warrior had gone, Darcy ducked her head, blushing. "She's right, you know," she said softly after a moment, wiping away a stray tear. "It isn't right...at least not until we find Jane. And then it still wouldn't be right. How could we ever hope to sort this out? You can't find her and have me. It would be cruel to all of us. So we have to stop it now and make it a clean break."
"Darcy-"
"No, Thor," she interrupted quietly, shaking her head. "It was a mistake. We let our feelings get in the way of our sense."
He drew her closer, though she refused to look at him. "You love her, not me," she whispered, tears falling freely. "And maybe if we're lucky, we can be good friends. But we can't have this. It's not for us."
"How would we know it is not if we never tried?" Thor murmured, uncertain himself, thumb rubbing a soothing circle on her upper arm. Darcy glanced down at it. "Thor-" she warned, the rest muffled by a desperate kiss. Yes, he loved Jane dearly...but chemistry, as he had been told by Tony when he asked if he had someone, was chemistry.
"Chemistry," he began waveringly, and she met his gaze, "I have heard some people have it. An attraction that cannot be qualified or explained. Is that the reason behind this? Loss of control?"
"But we do have control," she pressed, "Chemistry or no." She worried her lip. "Besides"...Sometimes, when two chemicals mix, they combust and explode."
"But not always," Thor argued. "I fear Jane may never love me or see me the same after what transpired."
"So your choice is to ditch out now?" Darcy growled, suddenly very angry for Jane.
"That was not my intent!" he thundered, and Darcy started and stared at him wide-eyed, startled. Thor stretched a hand out to caress her cheek with the back of his hand, then dropped it.
"So, what?" Darcy hissed harshly. "You give it a go and have some mistakenly impassioned one-night-stand or one-time shag and then what? I can't be with you. What if Jane's fine? Then you go back to what you were and leave me alone. And what if she isn't? What if she's damaged? I wouldn't want you if you left her after that. I'd hate you myself."
Thor recoiled, stung by her remarks, but proud of her, and appreciative of the fact that he would hate himself as well. But that meant only hardship for him and Darcy.
Thor smiled at her, a bittersweet smile, hugged her close, and then prepared to leave the room.
"Wait," Darcy said quietly, though he seemed not to hear. Louder, just as he reached the door, Darcy pleaded, "Thor, wait. Please, Thor."
He turned to her and their eyes met. He reached out, his hand on the latch. "Why?" He sounded broken, torn. Defeated.
"Because I'm sorry," Darcy sighed. "If I wasn't so stupid and impulsive..."
Thor sighed as well, gripping the latch a bit tighter. "It is not your fault, Darcy. I merely wish that I could have kept you from the pain you now feel. In fact, it is because of it that I vow to you that I will protect you from suffering any further."
Darcy put her hand to her mouth, sniffing as if to keep her composure. "What does that mean?"
"It means you are right. We need a clean break, for I cannot bear to break your heart a thousand more times, every second of every day trying to make you share me or complicit in my loss of control. It will not happen again."
"Thor." His name came out a whimper. A tear slid down his cheek, and Darcy gasped, clutching her chest as if it ailed her. "Thank you."
Thor nodded, and then he had gone. Darcy stood staring down at her hands, studying them, and then a good deal longer at the door and the empty room.
"Thank you," she murmured again, and then left herself.
...xxx...
Sif stopped Thor in the hallway. Her hand had shot out, catching his arm. Thor automatically protested, thinking she meant to hound him about his slip.
"Sif, I thought we had an understanding that-"
She waved his rebuttal away impatiently. "You have my silence, Thor, though I expected better of you."
Thor gave her the closest thing he could to a dirty look, as he was not accustomed to giving them, and gestured impatiently. "Well, then, Lady Sif?"
"Your brother has fled his captivity on Jotunheim."
Thor went rigid, breathless. "And...And Jane?" he inquired hopefully without even delving into how his beloved brother might have gotten away. Knowing Loki, there was a consequence, and he knew not if he was ready to hear of it. Sif's face twisted with mockery, malicious spite, and a sort of disbelief. "Well, after the guard was killed going to retrieve her from her visit with Loki in prison, and her host's house robbed, it is unclear how they left, but certain that he took her with him."
Thor closed his eyes slowly. A death-no, a murder- and a robbery. And he still had Jane, of course.
"No one spoke with Naryu or Mordred before their departure?"
"No," Sif replied, eyeing him darkly. "She has no idea. She should be there, though. I am sure she will track him and find him."
Thor turned and leaned against the wall, resting his arm above his head on the stone. "Knowing my sister's temper, we will likely need to send a diplomat after her. I trust you or one of the Warriors Three to do so."
"Of course," she replied. She hesitated, then extended a consoling hand, the anger leaving her.
"You are still my friend. I still care for you. I know these to be difficult times for you."
Thor stiffened further but relaxed, bit by bit, until he could see her face, and then he did what he had not been able to do in a very long time-he hugged Sif, though very haltingly, because she had grown terribly bitter, cold, and closed off from him, and it saddened him greatly. Sif, shocked, adjusted her arms to return the embrace.
"I have missed you," he said gruffly.
"I know. I am not the easiest person to speak to," Sif replied quietly. Thor gave her one last squeeze and released her, straightening. Their eyes met in understanding, and then they parted-Sif to do as he asked because it was necessary and Thor to do what Thor did best: Grieve and try to make the best decision at that time...or what he thought it to be.
...xxx...
Naryu and Mordred arrived on Jotunheim right in the center of the main square, though not in the usual flash from the Bifrost and nearly on the dais of the arch. Instead, Naryu stepped boldly through a jagged window of her own creation, with Mordred at her heel. Naturally, she had rushed ahead of any escort to rescue her brother. No one messed with her loved ones.
She strode furiously towards what remained of the royal grounds, snow alighting on her pale hair, her ringed eyes flashing in fury, and everything about her, from the rage rolling off of her in waves to the set of her thin lips made her resemble an avenging angel. One of the women, wearing brightly patterned cloth, came out to meet her.
"Alfrún," she acknowledged her curtly. "Where are they? I know you had them. And do not lie to me."
Alfrún both cringed and flinched, wetting her lips nervously. Naryu was renowned for her excellent diplomatic skills and strategic alliance making as much as for her magnificent temper. Loki raging was one thing-a monstrous thing, and so was Thor's righteous anger. But a wrathful Naryu was quite another, and she more than anyone got what she wanted more often than not. She stared at Alfrún dead in the eye and demanded, not requested, oh-so-softly, the danger palpable, "Where."
Alfrún swallowed and lowered her gaze, pointing toward the hallway leading to the dungeon. Lowly, she supplied, "He was there, your brother. His woman I kept with me in my home."
"His woman?" Naryu barked softly before the woman could add anything else to her explanation. Alfrún, usually much different, merely nodded mutely, dazed.
"I have the Grace of Knowing...I could tell that they had coupled."
Naryu snorted. "And is that all? Hardly relationship grounds. It was a mistake, a misunderstanding in communications as far as my understanding of it goes."
Alfrún's eyes lit up in sudden fervor. "And how deep is that understanding?"
"I-" But despite being initially intimidated, the Jotun woman barreled on with her ardent ranting, caught up in it.
"Such as, perchance, do you know that he loves her?"
Blindsided, Naryu lost some of her ferocious demeanor, quickly becoming bewildered.
"He-he what?" Alfrún grabbed her hand and clasped it tightly between both of her chilly ones. "He is in love with her," she insisted.
"And-and does she return the sentiment?" Naryu asked, thrown off-kilter and feeling the beginnings of dread. Jane was engaged to Thor the last time she checked. Alfrún paused, frowning. "She is deeply troubled and conflicted. I do not think so-but she could. They have a sort of...natural cohesion. It would not take much, if the circumstance allowed."
Naryu swore. If Thor's fiancée fell in love with their brother, what sort of ruin would their family be in then? It was too much. Just because she could handle something didn't mean either of them could. Of course, it didn't necessarily mean they couldn't, either. But it was not a game they were playing, and the stakes were high as it was without silly didn't mind it, his being in love, if only he hadn't been connected to someone that was not his to steal away. Her glare when she lifted her head was fierce. She straightened her shoulders. "Show me everything," she commanded. "And I mean, everything.
...xxx...