Oh, make me fly for something more
You've been asleep for days now
Living inside your dreams

- Neon Trees, Farther Down

The news of Jane refusing all her suitors was the only thing the rest of the village talked about for the next couple of days. There were those who thought she was a silly girl who had given up a chance at a happy life, and then there were those girls who were relieved that she had left them potential husbands.

Whatever the rest of the village thought, it didn't stop the Fosters from continuing their everyday lives like nothing happened. John's shop continued to flourish, and Jane added new star maps and explored the woods behind their home with her pet wolf. The only change that came was in the form of a letter a week later, which contained an invitation – Loki thought it was worded more like a summons – to have Jane visit her aunt.

John seemed eager to have his daughter get a change of scenery, but Jane and Loki weren't. Jane didn't like the idea of leaving her projects behind, while Loki didn't like the idea of being left behind.

He didn't trust any of the mortals fully – so far, Jane and her father were the only ones accorded such a luxury – and after meeting Lilith during several of her visits for the past few years, he decided that he didn't like her.

Blonde, giggly, and the epitome of a flirty wench, she reminded him too much of Amora. Her dislike of wolves only added to this animosity he had towards her, and he knew he would rather be damned than have Jane visit the woman alone.

So there they were, wolf and mistress, engaged in another war of wills that only one of them was determined to win.

"Faolan, come on."

No.

"Please?"

I am not letting you go on some whimsical trip on your own. I'm coming with you.

"Papa, are you certain I must do this?"

"Your aunt misses you. It would do you good to-"

"No, Papa. I meant leaving Faolan behind. He looks so...so...well, look at him!"

Loki blinked back at both Midgardians slowly, showing them that they would have to use massive oxen to drag him away from the plush seat on the carriage. The moment he'd heard that John was sending his daughter away for a few weeks to visit her aunt in the town twenty-five miles away, he was determined to come along. Not only was he wary of letting Jane go on a long trip by herself, but also he knew he would miss her.

And if there was one thing the God of Mischief was, whether he was human or wolf, it was being rather clingy.

John sighed, scratching the back of his head as he looked at the massive black wolf. "Your aunt cannot stand animals. It would be an imposition if you bring him along. Think of it this way: you'll be back with him after a week. I'll take good care of him, I swear it."

No, you'll force feed me rubbery meat and use me as your guinea pig for your healing potions. I am not going to be subjected to that once more.

Jane wasn't convinced, yet she tugged at Loki's collar again, pulling him an inch towards the edge of the seat. Finally she climbed into the carriage, sitting down beside the wolf. Her hands scratched at the back of Loki's ears, and he leaned forward so that she could access the spot better. He allowed himself to let out a short bark, and she smiled. "You're welcome."

"Jane, you need to leave now," John reminded her gently.

"Alright. Faolan, you need to stay here with Papa. Please? For me?"

Loki stared back at her, torn between going with her and doing her a favor by watching her lovable oaf of a father. But he remained firm, turning his head away from her, resting it between his paws. He heard her sigh, and then the carriage shake a bit as she stepped down.

He expected the Fosters to insist that he come down, but was surprised when they had the driver go home and set the carriage close to the side of the house. Jane entered the house, and Loki's ears perked up when she called for him. Convinced that they had decided not to push through with their foolish plan, he jumped out of the carriage and nearly skidded inside the living room, his furry body bumping against Jane's legs.

She giggled then, and he looked up at her to give her a brief, wolfy grin. Satisfied that they'd abandoned their little game of having Jane travel a long way to visit an undoubtedly now-pockmarked old woman whose only desire is to feel young again by having her attractive niece visit, he curled up on the rug near the fireplace. John busied himself with the newest batch of cough medicines, and every time glass clinked in the shop, his ears pricked up. Everything was back to normal, and that was the way he liked it.

Come dinnertime, Loki consumed what meats Jane had prepared for him on his own plate – they'd long given up trying to feed him on a bowl on the floor – and eavesdropped on their conversation. While most of the topics centered on the possibility of them creating a new store in the next village, every now and then John tried steering the talk towards the visit. When he did so, Loki stopped chewing and let out a low growl.

"Papa, I'm not going. Not unless Faolan is with me," Jane repeated, until finally John gave up the matter entirely.

The food was delicious as always, and he found himself wanting a second helping. Halfway through the meal, however, Loki felt his vision swimming. He blinked fast as if that could help him see better, but he could still feel his eyes drooping.

No. They…wouldn't…I should have known…

Just before his eyes closed, he felt a soft hand on his head and heard Jane's apologetic murmur. "I'm sorry, Faolan. But this was the only way."

He managed to let out a soft woof before darkness claimed him, and he grew still.

Jane eased herself into the carriage, biting her lip as she pulled her hood over her head. She hated having to deceive her own pet like that, but it was necessary. Yes, she didn't like the idea of having to visit her aunt so suddenly, but her father was right. A change of scenery would do her good, and frankly, she was tired of having to hear the countless hisses that the females and several of her jilted suitors had made whenever she visited the main market.

Normally such things didn't bother her, but these had become too frequent over the past week. Her solace was improved by Faolan's presence, which she was entirely grateful for. Time and again she nearly changed her mind, especially after she'd laid the wolf on her bed. He'd appreciate that, at the very least.

"Papa, I don't think I should-"

"Jane. You saw how he reacted when he learned you were going off alone. If you plan to leave, you must do it now. I suspect he won't be too trusting of me when he wakes," John interrupted. His expression softened at that, and he lay a comforting hand on her shoulder. "I know how much Faolan means to you, my darling. I promise you that I won't let anything happen to him while you're gone. He'll be just as you left him."

She'd sighed, but finally agreed. Aunt Lilith was her mother's younger sister, and as a girl she had been a frequent visitor in the Foster home. Now, with a grandchild to take care of, such visits had become fewer and far between. Since the incident with her suitors, it seemed prudent that Jane accept such an invitation.

John gave her one last hug, and then whispered a few last minute instructions to the driver. They were to stop at the inn in the next village – a mere ten minute ride away – to wait for morning. As soon as dawn came, they would then head on to Lilith's home. By then, they would be far away for even Faolan to follow, and John would make sure the wolf wouldn't escape.

As the carriage ambled down the worn path, she turned around in her seat and glanced back at her home and her father, waving at the latter. The soft glow of the candle in the upstairs room told her that her pet was lying on the unseen bed, and she lowered her gaze.

Being apart from Faolan was new to her, and she felt…hollow. It was as if an essential part of her was missing.

Finally she decided to dismiss such thoughts, and sat down properly. The driver was silent throughout the ride, and Jane was grateful for it. Lost in her own mind, she knew she wouldn't make articulate conversation.

The inn was nearly empty, and the innkeeper quickly showed Jane to a room. It had a single bed, a wash bowl, and a trunk at the foot of the bed, but otherwise was empty. After giving the man payment for room and the space for the carriage and horses in the stables, she closed the door and barred it, sinking onto the rather hard mattress.

I'm sorry Faolan, she thought for what seemed like the hundredth time that night. I'll make it up to you when I return.

She rolled onto her back, the ceiling strange and unfamiliar. She half-expected a furry body to press against hers, and a series of heavy sniffs that usually told her the wolf had curled up beside her. The lack of such a sensation was proof that she had, indeed, left her pet behind.

What was strange about this whole affair was that she felt so completely attached to the animal. Most of those who owned pets in the village didn't feel as strongly as she did, and didn't find it difficult to leave their dogs at home whenever they made merry during celebrations in the next village, or even further than that. But she, an educated woman, was nearly falling to pieces at the thought of having to be apart from her pet for a few weeks (two, her aunt had specified in her letter).

It was a puzzle.

Then again, this was the first time she'd been apart from Faolan – perhaps she just needed some time to get used to the idea. Yes, that was the most logical explanation. And her father had promised her that he would take care of the wolf, and her father had never broken his promises to her yet.

Everything would be fine.

Yes, they most certainly would be.

One week later

The scratch of quill on parchment was irritatingly loud in his ear.

Everything was irritating.

After waking up on Jane's bed, it didn't take him long to know that they had slipped a sleeping agent into his food – liquid form, most likely, since he didn't bite on anything strange while eating – and Jane had left while he was unconscious. Part of him wondered why she'd allowed her father to do something like that to him, and he'd stewed in his own resentment towards both Fosters for a few days.

Admittedly he'd forgiven Jane in a heartbeat, but John…not entirely.

The scratching of the quill stopped, and the soft whoosh of flame being ignited followed, telling Loki that John had lighted another candle. It was shortly after dinner on the seventh day since Jane's departure, and both man and beast were full with the venison John had roasted.

Loki had stolen one half of the venison from the spit, and he knew it was out of guilt that John didn't pursue the matter further. Indeed, he'd watched the mortal while tearing off hunks of the steamy meat, and the man seemed to be unable to meet his eyes. Either that, or John Foster was more aloof than he let on.

"How can this be?" John murmured, and the vicious sound of a quill point against parchment was heard as he crossed out several items about whatever he was writing. Loki guessed that the man was listing profits for the week, but right now he didn't care. Shifting in place, he knew his green eyes were glittering in the firelight, and when John glanced over his way, Loki narrowed his eyes. "Faolan, stop sulking. She'll be back in five days – she said so herself."

Oh yes, gloat about how you can still read and I cannot. I've learned to read long before you were conceived, mortal!

"And don't give me that look. I miss her too."

The sadness in John's voice was hard to miss, but Loki sniffed and continued watching the man. Finally John groaned, slapping the quill down on the table and turning to face the wolf. "Very well. How about we come to a deal?"

I'm listening.

"If you stop misbehaving-"

Oh do stop blowing things out of proportion. I barely touched your spare stocks of medicine. And your leather boots. And your food.

"-we'll go fetch her ourselves in three days."

Two.

At the sound of the two barks, John scratched his head. "By the gods, I sometimes wonder if you're human. Alright. Two days. Do we have a deal?"

Loki paused, increasing the tension present between them. He liked seeing the man sweat a little – it was a small price to pay for tricking a trickster. Finally he sniffed and made a small wolfish nod, which John caught.

"We have a deal then. No more antics, and we leave in two days." Hands clapping on his knees, he smiled and turned back to his work, while Loki lessened the ferocity in his eyes and decided to nap. After what felt like mere seconds – though the low height of the candle on the table told him otherwise – he smelled a new presence. It was very familiar, and a low growl formed on the back of his throat as he slowly stood on his haunches.

"Faolan? What is it?" John continued scribbling a few more figures on the parchment before setting the quill back in the inkwell. He turned his head towards the direction the wolf was growling at, finally going to his feet. "Who's there?"

"Blake Donaldson, good sir," came the rough, drunken tone of one of Jane's former suitors. A short knock, and then two. "I only wish to speak to you."

With a sigh, John got to his feet, holding a hand out as if to tell the wolf to stay. Loki, who barely obeyed anyone – including Jane – paid no heed and followed. The moment the door opened, Blake stumbled in, the tankard in his hand falling to the floor with a dull clunk. "I…only wish…to…to…you!" Blake had seen the black wolf, and anger flared within him faster than the flame John had lighted a few hours ago.

The last word was said in a snarl, which Loki returned with one of his own. His fangs were bared, and his hairs were all standing on end. John glanced from the drunkard to the wolf, before stepping in between them. "If there is something you wish to tell me, please do so now. There are many things I must do-"

"To the seven hells with you, old man! Stand aside!" Blake shoved John away, causing the latter to stumble. He'd managed to grab onto the side of the table, although his ribs collided painfully with the wooden edge. Paying the man no heed, Blake advanced towards Loki, unsheathing a dagger.

Loki was about to launch himself at Blake – any and all qualms for mortal diplomacy be damned to Helheim – when a flash of white appeared before him, followed by a grunt of pain.

"Stupid old man," Blake swore, and Loki's eyes widened as he saw John slump to the floor, the dagger embedded in his chest. A dark red pool of blood was slowly spreading from the open wound. Man and wolf looked at each other, and even though Loki never felt a close of an affinity towards John than he did with Jane, he reacted almost instantaneously.

Leaping at Blake, his fangs sank deep into the mortal's throat. Blood gushed from the wound and past Loki's lips. Blake's screams and Loki's growls mixed into one horrible cacophony, and whenever the former tried to reach for the knife still embedded in John's chest, the wolf tugged the unfortunate suitor further away. Pulling, tearing, biting…the attack seemed to stretch on for hours.

Whatever blow Blake managed to land on him, Loki returned with a fiercer, deeper bite. Soon, Blake was but a shivering mass on the ground. His throat had been completely torn open, with the neck bone exposed. Blood streaked Loki's entire snout, yet only the adrenaline pounded through his veins.

His breath came in a series of brief pants, and he turned towards John. A soft whimper, and then a whine came from him as he saw the glassy-eyed stare of the man who had died for him.

The inhabitants of this realm and of Jotunheim were very different, but they both recognized and respected sacrifice. Even now, staring at the brilliant John Foster, Loki found it difficult to believe that he was gone, killed by a jilted and jealous suitor. Throwing his head back, he let out a long, mournful howl that was answered by another, though it came from a mile or so away. It had not been a gesture of kinship, but rather of mourning, regret, and gratitude.

If I could, John Foster, I would make it so you have a proper burial. Your sacrifice will not be in vain.

For a moment Loki considered his options. He could stay, be discovered, and possibly killed for murdering a human. Or he could leave and go to Jane, who would most likely receive news of her father's death before he even arrived in her horrid aunt's home.

There was only one option he wanted to take.

There is nothing left for me here. The only person I can call sanctuary is her. Jane.

With one final look at John, Loki turned from the dead man and walked out into the night.

He didn't know where Jane was, and what scent she might have had on the trail was long gone. But he did glimpse the address on the letter Jane had sent: a small town in Tromsø. Twenty-five miles. More or less forty kilometers away.

The distance didn't deter him one bit and, keeping close to the shadows, he slunk past the village borders, not feeling a hint of sadness at the thought of leaving the place he'd called home behind. That place was with Jane – and John, in a way – and since she was in Tromsø, that was where he was going to go.

Home.

Asgard

Amora shifted in place, the spinning orb in front of her showing the black wolf leave the pigsty of a home. For some time she'd watched as Loki endured a new life – complete with the lifespan of the animal she'd cursed him to – waiting for him to plead with her to take him back.

But he never did.

He is a stubborn, manipulative little shit.

And to think that once, I called him mine.

The Enchantress shook her head, her blonde hair fanning out around her as she did so. No. He is still mine. Whatever fondness he might have for the father, surely it cannot be extended to the shrimp of a daughter?

Doubt was setting in. She didn't think of watching him every moment of his exile, since the war was coming to a head. Add to that the fact that Laufey and Farbauti were on the lookout for their son, and to show anything but concern – however faked it might have been – would have cast suspicion on her immediately. She wasn't known for her goodness, and it was only because of the shield spell Loki had taught her had she gone undetected when she'd cast the curse on him.

But for how long she could keep this a secret, she didn't know.

With a pursing of lips, she swirled her hand around the orb once more, this time showing the face of the mortal woman who had taken Loki in when she was but a child.

He is mine. I will not have his affections taken from me by a mere mortal. Your father's death will be but the first of your many sufferings, and the wolf you prize above all else will be powerless to help you.

A/N: To all those who reviewed, thank you very much! I'm sorry I haven't replied to each and every one of you, but I just want you to know that I appreciate all the things that you guys have said. Hopefully I continue meeting your expectations with this fan fic! :D