I saw you somewhere
Farther down
Did I expect it?
Now I'm overcome with fear

- Neon Trees, Farther Down

Jane's laughter echoed in the meadow, accompanied by a series of yips. For those who had visited her father's shop, they knew what led to the girl's sudden bouts of happiness. For those who hadn't, the wolf cub's barks were answer enough. Many worried that the cub – whom Jane had taken to call 'Faolan' – would menace their cattle and livestock, but since its paws had been wounded, it had been confined to the four walls of the Foster home.

It was two weeks after Jane and her father had found Faolan, and the cub was testing its paws on the soft soil. The rains had come and gone, making the ground not too muddy or too stiff. At first the pup had simply stood at the entrance, looking at her like she was mad, raising its paws on the soft rug. But with her insistent calls of his name, and the tempting promise of a juicy piece of leftover steak – which she'd taken without her father knowing about it – she was able to coax her furry companion away from the house and further into the meadow.

She didn't realize what she had been missing until the little pup had entered her life. While she and her father had many happy times and fond memories with each other, he also had his own responsibilities. And when he was cooking away new potions and studying alchemy, she was left to her own devices. Jane sketched alone, played with her spyglass (which she'd made by herself using a bamboo shoot and a crystal her father had given her), and studied the herbs in the woods.

Now, she had Faolan. She could imagine them doing things together, and even though he couldn't talk back, it was comforting to know that there was something listening to her. The trees and bushes weren't exactly happy company, though her father believed that the plants had a language all on their own.

"Faolan! Come here boy!" she called, turning in a flurry of skirts and holding out the final piece of the steak. They were in the middle of the meadow now, with the late afternoon sun shining above them. As soon as the pup had approached her, nose sniffing at the tasty morsel, she fell onto her back on the grass, laughing, holding the steak just out of reach until the pup was practically climbing over her stomach to get it.

Finally dropping the piece of steak on the ground, she let out a giggle when Faolan's tail brushed her nose, followed by the little snarls as it wrestled with the food. Licking its chops, Faolan looked at her expectantly, as if it thought that she was still hiding more food somewhere.

"That's all. I couldn't get too much because Father would have noticed," she told him, to which the pup let out a bark, as if demanding that she rectify the situation immediately. She shook her finger at this, before patting the space beside her. Rather than lie down, like what most puppies were wont to do when their mistresses called them over, Faolan sat down and scratched its ear, before trotting away like a spoiled prince. "Faolan!"

The pup ignored her, continuing on its way. Jane pouted, but stood up and followed her pet, afraid that it would get lost or one of the villagers would take an interest in it and take it away from her. She loved Faolan, despite its strange habits. John even commented that the wolf cub acted more human than a wolf – not that he knew how wolves acted exactly – but there were signs. Like the way it had jumped up on one of the chairs in front of the dining table during its third night at their home; the bandages were a nuisance, but the wolf cub seemed to ignore the pain and had jumped up nevertheless. Then there were those times when it had lain down on Jane's pillow, as if the cub had been used to sleeping on a bed since it had been born.

But despite all these eccentric behaviors, Jane couldn't help but like her new companion. Her father may think that she was just desperate for a playmate, but she knew better. Faolan had a rather sweet side; it didn't snap whenever she tried carrying it, nor did it growl when she petted it. That was something in its favor. She knew that the moment the pup showed just the tiniest bit of hostility, John would have returned it to the woods, and it would have certainly died.

No, the wolf cub just needed…persuasion. That was something she needed to correct – keeping a wolf cub that expected something in return for any of its actions wouldn't do at all.

Jane caught up with the pup in a few strides, picking it up and coddling it as she made her way back to the house. Her father was still in his shop, but surprisingly there were raised voices. This was the first time she'd heard her father shout before, and frankly, it was frightening.

Pressing Faolan close to her (the pup, which had been trying to squirm away from her grasp, had even become quite still), she inched closer to the window, stopping before her father could see her.

"…don't see why you allow her to play with that monster!"

"We'll tame the cub; I don't see why you can't understand that, Philip!"

"Because wolves are not meant to be pets! You'll regret it when the beast bites off your daughter's hand, and none of your potions can put it back right!"

"That's my decision. Now if you have nothing else to say, get out of my shop!"

Philip let out a hiss and stormed off, his boots thudding heavily on the wooden boards. Jane heard her father sigh and then the tinkle of glass bottles that meant he had gone back to arranging his shelves. "Papa?"

A sharp intake of breath, and then her father's footsteps on the floorboards. "Jane? Did you…?"

"Yes I did. Faolan did too. Papa we aren't going to let him go, are we?" Her voice was low, and she pressed her nose into the pup's fur. It smelled of earth and the steak, as well as of the sage growing near the house. "We can't let him go! He's so small...he might die!"

"Don't you listen to Philip, Jane. Don't. The man is a paranoid cattle farmer who likes to flap his jaws at every little thing; remember last year when you accidentally let loose the kite you'd made? He thought it was a bat from hell!" John's smile was so warm and reassuring that Jane just knew he would keep his word.

Faolan had stopped being the complacent pup and had wriggled out her grasp finally, but surprisingly stayed close to her, even rubbing its furry body against her lower leg. Her father saw this and smiled a little, knowing that to separate the two now would be cruel.

Well there was a reason why we found the pup, he told himself silently, turning back to his work. Whatever it is, I just hope it's for Jane's benefit.

10 years later

Living with Midgardians for ten long years should have felt like an eternity for a powerful Frost Giant/God of Mischief stuck in the body of a wolf (Amora had granted him the lifecycle of a wolf as well, it seemed). But Loki found himself enjoying his stay, mostly because of the new family he had found himself in.

John Foster was a kind man, and quite amusing at times. His alchemy knowledge was not as vast as those in Asgard, but it was still pretty impressive for a mere mortal. He was Loki's staunch defender, surpassed only by his own daughter, who had grown to be quite the village beauty. Women in the realm had already married at fourteen – some even giving birth to sons and daughters by twelve – but John had refused to let his daughter marry until she was old enough to actually survive childbirth.

"Your reproductive system is still small, and to give birth at that age…" He had clicked his tongue at the thought, and frankly, Loki agreed. Besides, he knew that Jane wouldn't like the idea of being married before she actually studied the stars and the planetary alignments, or prove that the world they were on revolves around the sun, and not vice versa.

Jane Foster was unlike the other women in the village in the sense that she cared more for expanding what she knew, rather than who she knew. Her days were spent keeping detailed records of the herbs that she encountered in her walks in the woods – always with Loki by her side – and her nights were passed studying the stars.

In his own way, Loki had grown attached to her, and was quick to defend her from the insipid and jealous girls who hurled hissed insults at her. Nothing gave him more satisfaction than to jump from behind Jane, teeth bared, fur erect, and snarling. It always sent the other girls shrieking and running in the opposite direction. Sometimes he allowed himself to act wolfish by howling at the moon – though this was more of a tactic to call for Heimdall's attention than anything else – and chasing his tail whenever he was bored.

On the whole, his exile in Midgard wasn't as bad as he feared it would be.

His only worry was the war with Muspelheim; time flowed faster in Asgard, which meant that the ten years he had here may have only been a week in the Eternal Realm at the very most. Amora must have given some excuse for his absence, and if she had cast that cloaking spell he'd taught her to shield Heimdall's eye from what she had been doing, then he may very well be trapped in this body. His magic was ineffective, as the form he was in did not have the required structure to cast spells. It was irritating.

Now wasn't the time for him to think about interdimensional matters or his lack of magic, however. Threat or no, there was something else looming over him, and he wasn't too keen for it to happen.

"Faolan, you know you need this!" Jane said, exasperated. He'd hidden himself under her bed, squeezing himself against the wall just to avoid her grip on his leather collar. "There are going to be visitors and you need to look your best!"

What for? They're not going to ask for my hand in marriage; they're going to ask for yours!

She strained for him again, but he was too far in. Jane made a little shriek of annoyance, but let it go. Loki relaxed, his spine lowering as he shifted into a more comfortable position.

"Got you!"

Startled at the sudden hand that had held his collar, he jerked up, banging his head on the underside of the bed. Jane tugged at his collar, and he grudgingly slunk out of his hiding place. He narrowed his eyes, to which Jane smiled a little, rubbing the sore spot on his head.

"I'm sorry Faolan, but Papa wants you to look nice as well. And smell nice…have you been rolling around in the compost pile?" Jane clicked her tongue and held his collar again, leading him to the already soapy tub. Another tug and he leapt in, splashing water everywhere, including on Jane's skirts. She sighed, and he gave her a goofy wolf grin, which turned into a wince as she started scrubbing his fur.

This was humiliating, and if Amora were watching, she most likely was laughing herself hoarse. In fact, most of the things he did were degrading for someone who was used to order armies and mighty Asgardians about, but he had no choice. He'd recognized the need to act as much as wolf as he possibly could, otherwise they would have driven him away.

The suds were nearly over his eyes, but she brushed these back with her hand, rinsing the soap on his head before washing his ears, and then the rest of his body.

"Well look who's finally getting clean," John commented, walking inside the room with a pile of freshly washed dresses. As always, he had a wide smile on his face as he looked at his daughter fondly. Loki sniffed to show his derision, and John laughed. "Apologies, but you've been dodging this for months."

To Jane, he said: "Have you chosen a dress?"

"Yes Papa," she stressed, forming bubble horns on Loki's head, which he shook off with much gusto. "I'm the one attending to the suitors, not you. Though I'd rather be watching the night sky." The last phrase she said under her breath, and Loki turned to look at her, silently agreeing, before averting his head again.

A few more fierce scrubs later (she'd even washed his tail) and he was shaking off the excess water, splattering everyone and everything in the room. He grinned inwardly at their reactions: John grumbling in annoyance, and Jane muttering to herself why she hadn't brought him out of the room and into the garden where he could dry himself. Satisfied that he was dry – or close to it – he sat down and waited.

John had finished putting Jane's dresses in her trunk and was now the one who reached for Loki's collar. He blinked once, finally letting the mortal lead him out of the room while Jane changed, giving her privacy. There were times when he stayed in the room when she changed into her nightclothes, and he had to admit that she had quite a nice figure. It was one of those times when Thor would have told him to 'wolf whistle', but since his mouth wasn't built for it, the only thing he could have done was howl.

But then that would be rather telling.

A dull hum greeted his ears when he and John walked into the hallway, the noise growing louder until they reached the receiving area. The moment Loki padded in, he stopped.

No less than ten men of different shapes, sizes, and ages were gathered there, all talking among themselves. The dull hum that he'd been hearing was their conversation, intermingling until it resembled the sound of a bee's wings. When they saw John, however, they all stopped. One by one, their eyes slid from their potential father-in-law to the wolf standing beside him, and one visibly swallowed.

"Is this the famous Faolan?" One of the suitors stood, setting the tankard of ale down. He was tall and muscular, with arms like logs, and a mop of dirty blonde hair. He reminded Loki of Thor, but the difference between the two men was that Thor had more manners. He didn't like the look of any of the men, and his fur slowly stood, and a low growl formed in his throat.

John's heavy hand on his head stilled his reaction, and he looked up, irritated at the sudden gesture. The man shook his head subtly, as if telling Loki to behave. Another sniff and Loki sat down, though he never took his eyes off the men.

"Blake Donaldson! It's such an honor to have you here." John walked over to the man who had just spoke, shaking the man's hand. Blake shrugged rakishly, a smug grin on his face.

"Your daughter is a known beauty, John. It would be an honor to be her husband."

A series of "ayes" echoed around the room, as the other suitors reminded Blake that he had other competitors. Blake regarded them coolly, as if he thought he had already won. Loki longed to sink his teeth into the man's flesh – the first time he felt so since becoming a wolf. Both his human and wolf instincts told him the man was dangerous, and that behind that cordial smile lay a heart of ice.

Was this the man John planned on handing Jane over to? Absolutely not.

The very idea made Loki furious; he hadn't realized that he had stood up again, still boring holes into Blake's back. The other suitors noticed Loki's stance and looked away, as if making eye contact with him would cause him to snap. For several seconds he just stood there, fur raised, teeth bared, and body lowered.

If I were still a man, I would have thrown you out of this house for simply existing, Loki thought viciously.

"Blake, the wolf's been lookin' at ya for a coupla minutes now," another of the suitors said, jerking his head towards Loki. It was then when man and beast stared at each other, both determined to win this slight battle of wills. Blake was the one who broke eye contact, as Jane stepped into view.

Loki turned towards the stairs, having smelled her scent the moment she had stepped out of her room. Wolf though he was, he still had enough of his 'normal self' to appreciate the way her dress accentuated her figure, the neckline not too low-cut, and her hair falling in soft brown waves down past her shoulders. Her father's birthday gift for her when she had turned sixteen – a pearl hair clip – helped pull several curls away from her face.

He trotted up the stairs and stopped beside her, earning him a smile and a gentle pat on the head. Together, Loki and Jane descended the steps, and whenever a suitor tried approaching, he growled. The other suitors shrank back, but not Blake. Nearly kicking Loki aside, he pressed a rather wet kiss on Jane's hand before bowing.

"My lady, I-"

"You just kicked my pet wolf, good Sir," Jane interrupted, sidestepping him and checking to see if Loki was alright. Glaring at Blake over her shoulder, Loki's gaze softened when she looked at him. "I know he is but an animal to some, but he has been my companion for many a year."

"I apologize," Blake answered quickly, and tried to make up for his error by patting Loki on the head. His fingers were but an inch away when Loki tried biting the appendages off.

"No, I should apologize," Jane began, and Loki looked at her in disbelief.

Was she really going to ask for forgiveness to that beast of a man?

Jane was quiet, as if she was thinking hard. Even Loki wondered what was going on in that head of hers. Finally she straightened, steeling herself for what she was about to say next.

"I cannot do this. All of you have come here tonight to ask for my hand in marriage. But how many of you truly know me? Have any of you ever bothered to meet me prior to this day? Can anyone of you say one thing you know about me?"

The room was silent. Even Blake, for all his previous boasts, couldn't find the words. Loki, however, admired her even more for her wisdom. She was right, after all. None of the men truly knew her, nor had they even bothered to see past her beauty. Loki, on the other hand…

What are you even thinking? She is your friend.

A friend who takes care of me, protects me…

And you do the same to her. Dare you even think that you've grown fond of her?

Even if I have, she likes me as a wolf. She doesn't know who I am. And if she does meet me, she might not even like me.

Well you can't really say, since you're stuck in this body.

The fact that Jane would never meet him, the real him, bothered him more than he cared to admit. Even the look on Blake's face when he realized that he had been rejected could do nothing to ease the pang he felt in his chest, and he snorted. The sound drew Blake's attention, and the man's eyes narrowed into slits. The way he looked at Loki should have chilled his blood, but the trickster had seen worse looks on fiercer warriors.

Once the suitors had all filed out, the soft clopping of the horses' hooves as they rode away from the Foster home, John approached his daughter. Loki, finding the events of the night tiring for his wolf body, went over to John's armchair and curled up, though his green eyes glittered in the firelight.

"Jane-"

"No, Papa. You saw them all, the way they looked at me? If I am going to marry, I want someone who'll love me the way you loved Mother. Not someone who wants me as a prize on his arm. Someone who doesn't care what I look like or what I do, but who accepts me whole-heartedly." She held her father's hands, as if she was trying to persuade him to see her point of view.

John sighed as he held her. "Oh Jane. I only want what's best for you. If you think none of them are going to make a suitable husband, then we'll find one who will."

"Thank you, Papa."

Loki shifted his head so that it rested between his paws.

What if you already found one?