Heaven help me heaven help for the way I've been

- Neon Trees, Farther Down

Dead.

The letter fell from her hands and settled on the floor, and she barely heard her aunt's demands to know why she had gone so pale.

Dead. He can't be dead. Papa…

Jane bowed her head, her brown hair serving as a curtain to shield her from the rest of the world. She didn't expect it to happen…she wasn't even there…why…

"Oh my dear," Lilith crooned, her thin fingers resting on Jane's shoulder. "I am truly sorry."

But what condolences her aunt doled out next were left unheard and unheeded, as the world around Jane faded into nothingness. There was nothing but the dull roar that slowly rose with each passing second, and before long she had collapsed into blackness.

Lilith had noticed her niece crumple to the floor, and with a brisk clicking of her tongue, had her son, Edward, bring the girl to her room. At first, she thought the visit was going to help her gain the recognition of the lords of the village; her niece was such a beauty. But now, she knew that the girl was going to be an imposition. Curious, intelligent, and utterly unconcerned with things that most girls her age were interested in, Jane wasn't what she'd expected.

Whenever a lord's son visited, the silly girl was nowhere to be found. Most of the time, Edward had to fetch her from the woods or even in the outlying fields, all because she wanted to study the stars. Lilith didn't know what to make of her, and had half a mind to send her home to that strange man her older sister had married. Lilith never thought of John Foster as family, only because he had snatched her older sister – who was the village beauty – from the clutches of a wealthier suitor who could have raised their family to a higher status.

Now Jane seemed to have inherited her mother's tendencies for choosing someone (or something) that would do her no good. And she would rather be damned than to take on another mouth to feed.

"How are we going to send her home if she has no home left, Mama?" Edward whispered as he set the table.

Lilith sighed in exasperation, ladling some mushroom and cabbage soup onto the bowls. Every time she thought about it, she felt like screaming. John's death couldn't have come at a bad time; the man never did get the hang of opportune moments. If he'd have died the next week, she wouldn't have minded, because that meant that Jane was already home.

To send her away now would make Lilith look heartless, and she didn't want to appear so in the eyes of the lords. Another irritated noise escaped her, and she walked back to the kitchen. Edward followed her, meek as a mouse, taking the utensils and the plate of roast pig. Every now and then they enjoyed luxuries like this; Lord Cathalow had given them a pig just yesterday in an attempt to persuade Jane to see his son.

Again it didn't work; Jane had preferred to see the anomaly she called a 'shooting star' rather than take a simple walk down to the glen with Merrick Cathalow. If only she had been born "normal"…

"See if she's up!" she nearly barked at her son, who nodded and headed to the room. "If she doesn't wake, she doesn't get any supper." The last statement was said in barely a whisper; she'd rather be damned than waste the roasted pig on a grieving girl.

Edward came back, shaking his head. Lilith sat down with a roll of her eyes, before helping herself to a few slices of roast pig. Her son sat across from her, silent. She thought he was going to go hungry – the boy seemed to like his strange little cousin – when he took a particularly juicy slice for himself. For several minutes they both sat in silence, until they heard the deep rumble of thunder in the sky.

"Looks like the rain is coming," Edward murmured, yet they both knew that the rains weren't due to come for another month. Another roll of thunder came, followed by quick flashes of lightning, and then the sudden and fierce downpour. Edward had no choice but to dart out in the rain and make sure the chickens were in the coop and that the nanny goat was inside its pen.

Suddenly a torrent of snow came, followed by another downpour. This sudden change in the weather frightened Edward, who ran pell-mell back inside the house, tracking mud and a bit of snow inside. "Mother! Mother the…the weather…it's…it's…"

"What is it now, Edward?" Lilith asked, bringing the plates to the sink. Seeing the mud and snow on the floor, she scowled. "Clean it."

"But-"

"No 'buts', just do it," she retorted, as she started washing the dishes. Glancing over at the dining table, he saw that there were only a few pieces of the roast pig left. He was about to take the remaining food to his cousin when Lilith came back, and he covered his movement by making his way over to the wooden cabinet where they kept the cleaning rags.

What brought the sudden weather changes? he thought, staring up at the ceiling, as if it held the answer. Now the rain was pouring, the drops making a dull hum against the roof. He just hoped the thatched roof could withstand the rain, otherwise his mother would be very cross indeed.

I wasn't there. They buried my father but I wasn't there.

Jane stared at her fingers, which seemed thinner than before. For the last two days she'd been there, she had lost weight, if only because she threw up every bite of food that she consumed. She couldn't eat, she couldn't sleep, and the only thing that plagued her thoughts was her father and Faolan. The latter hadn't been seen since, and it was believed that someone had taken the wolf and had killed it for fur and meat.

As much as she wanted to go back home and see if the rumors about her beloved pet were true, she couldn't. The rain continued, coming in quick, furious sheets. She'd refused Merrick's offers to take her to his castle where she'd be warm, dry, and well-fed, and had opted to help her cousin around the house. The chores helped her take her mind off things, and it was only when she lay in bed did the thoughts come flooding back.

Edward, sweet Edward, was there for silent support, handing her pieces of cloth with which to dry her eyes, but her aunt was acting rather strange. Prior to getting the news of her father's passing, Lilith was happy and willing to do things for her and introduce her to all the villagers. Now, Jane noticed that a sudden shadow had passed over her aunt's normally cheery attitude.

But she never dwelt on it for too long; she was determined to pull her own weight until she could go back. Yet the weather was a major deterrent, and many healers in the village believed it was the sign of an angry god. For the rains didn't just come, so did the snow, hail, and gusty winds. These built up steadily each hour, only to switch to a new weather pattern.

Travelers were dissuaded from using the roads, and any and all trade was stopped for the moment. This meant that Jane couldn't go back home, at least until the weather became stable. And even if she went back, what was left for her? Her father had left a mark as a talented healer, but as a woman with a fierce interest in the stars and other celestial bodies, she had next to no future, even if she kept her father's business running.

And knowing some of the characters in her village, she wouldn't be surprised to learn that some, if not all, of her father's belongings had gone missing. No, there was nothing left for her there. Her only alternative was to find a husband, which was something that she disliked above all else. She didn't like the idea of being bound to a man, a man who would most likely tell her to forget her dreams and to become the wife he wanted her to be.

She was much more than that. Jane knew there were other things to do, places to see, and knowledge to learn. If she married, she wouldn't have the chance to do everything she wanted. There was hardly a man in the surrounding towns who understood her; those who did were the older tutors who had wives or families of their own, or had even taken a vow of celibacy.

For what seemed like the millionth time, Jane wished she'd been born a man. It was a reckless desire, something that she wanted ever since she was a child. And all because society prevented her from doing what she wanted and being who she wanted to be.

Educated.

"Jane!"

Her aunt's singsong voice broke through her thoughts, and she slowly stood, brushing off some dust from her skirt. "I'm coming, Aunt!" she called, making her way out of her room. When she reached the living room, she was surprised to see Merrick leaning against the rafters, with her aunt standing a few feet away, looking pleased. "What…what's happening?"

"Lord Merrick wishes to ask you something, dear niece," Lilith said. "I'll give you two some privacy."

Before Jane could protest, the blonde woman hurried out, but not before she caught a wide smile on her aunt's face. Heart pounding, she turned to face Merrick, who had a rather sickly look about him. There were black bruise-like spots on his neck, and he seemed…delirious. The moment he saw her, he grinned toothily and made his way over to her, murmuring nonsensical words under his breath. His foot caught on the side of the bench, causing him to promptly stumble and crash to the floor.

"Lord Merrick!" Jane moved over to him, setting the back of her palm on his forehead. He was hot. Very hot. "Aunt Lilith!"

Lilith came back in, her eyes widening when she saw Merrick lying on the floor. "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing! Aunt, we must get him to a healer; he has a very high fever!" Jane could see her aunt processing the scene, and she had to repeat her second statement before the other woman was jolted back into action. Edward hurried through the rain to fetch the village healer, while Merrick's footman helped the two women lay him on the table.

Soon enough the healer arrived, and diagnosed him as having a mere fever.

"What about these black bruises?" Jane asked, pointing to the black dots on Merrick's neck, which looked like small swollen spots. "Fever isn't usually accompanied by those."

"He merely bumped on something on his way here," the healer replied smoothly, though a flash of irritation ame over his features. "Nothing to worry about."

"Forgive me, but do swollen spots appear all over the neck?" she persisted. Behind her Lilith covered her face with her hand, letting out an exasperated sigh.

The healer frowned at her over his bushy eyebrows, snapping his brown bag shut. "If you think you're so clever, you heal him then! But you'd best explain to his father what happened to his son!"

"But-"

But the healer threw her one last withering glare before sweeping out, pulling his hood over him as he slammed the door shut.

"Now look at what you've done," Lilith said. "He could have helped us!"

"But Aunt Lilith, I've seen people who've come down with fever, and those swollen bumps are not part of the normal symptoms!"

"Enough! I know your father allowed you free reign over your desires to prove yourself well-educated, Jane, but the world will not stand for it!" her aunt shot back. "Now go to your room! You've caused enough trouble! You're just a silly, delusional girl who will grow old a maid, all for the sake of knowledge!"

Tears sprang to Jane's eyes, but she wiped these away fiercely. Never had she expected her aunt to be like this. Yes, she knew her aunt was a vain woman, but to throw such words at her…it was as if she didn't know her aunt at all. She heeded her aunt's advice however, shutting herself up in her room.

Merrick seemed oblivious to all that was happening; his head turned this way and that, clearly in a state of delirium. Even as Lilith and the footman brought him into his carriage, the only sounds he made were strange murmurs. As the carriage pulled away, however, Lilith heard the hacking sounds of someone vomiting. Wrinkling her nose, she pulled her hood further over her face and slipped back inside.

Asgard

She was having fun.

Her jealousy over the perceived attraction Loki had towards this Jane Foster had reached its peak, and she was determined to put a stop to it. The first thing she did was to make a few needed changes to the weather patterns, so that Loki would be unable to reach the mortal woman in time. This also served to stop the Midgardian witch from leaving, trapping her in a village that was slowly being eaten inside out like a worm within an apple.

Amora smiled to herself as she continuously manipulated the weather around the location where the God of Mischief was, as well as the village where that homely mortal of his was staying. Rain, snow, fierce winds…these were just some of the erratic weather that she sent to plague both Jotun and Midgardian.

Distracted as she was to stop the two from ever meeting, she made certain to cloak her actions using Loki's shield spell. Again she marveled at how something he had taught her was now preventing anyone from helping him. The war had already erupted, and it was Laufey who led the Jotun forces in his son's stead. Farbauti had now traveled to Asgard to help with the search for her son.

Many thought that it was uncharacteristic of Loki to leave on the eve of an important conflict, and Amora exerted the usual amount of effort in the search. She had even traveled to Midgard herself, but only under the guise of prodding Jane's staunchest suitor into storming to the Foster home. It had proved to be a very fruitful visit, and now she was sowing the seeds of death and destruction in the area.

"The Black Death. Mm. Fitting," she murmured, watching as the lord's son slowly succumbed to the disease, unwittingly spreading it to the rest of the town. What were a few dead mortals to her, if that meant teaching Loki a lesson? What did she care if an entire town was wiped out because of the disease that had been born out of her spite?

All that mattered to her was bringing the God of Mischief back to her, and she certainly couldn't do that if a Midgardian woman stood in her way.

Just as she was about to send a downpour over the town, she heard two sets of footsteps outside her chamber. Waving her hands, the bowl of water she used to cast her magic disappeared, and when Thor Odinson and Fandral the Fair entered, they saw the Enchantress reclining in her loveseat, her eyes closed as if in deep sleep.

"Lady Amora," Thor greeted, and the green eyes – so reminiscent of Loki's own – fluttered open, focusing after a second or two. "We wish to speak to you."

"But of course, my lord," she stated. Gesturing to the chairs close to her, she rested her head back on the feathery pillow, knowing that she looked utterly ravishing at that moment. "What is your will?"

"They say Loki was seen in your company before he disappeared," Thor began, and a small swell of panic rose within her. She reminded herself that she had the same acerbic tongue as Loki, and could easily spin a web of lies that would raise her above suspicion.

"Indeed he was. I admit that I was…begging for him to come back to me," she murmured, her eyes dropping downward before resting on Thor's blue ones. "I still love him, my prince. I always will. But he didn't listen, and I had to watch him leave."

"So easily? Forgive me, my lady, but you aren't exactly known for letting men go," Fandral asked.

Oh he is getting smarter, she thought, though she bit back the smile that threatened to form. Thinking with your brain than with the thing between your legs, I see.

"I know what you all think of me. But I love him. I truly do. I couldn't…I can never stay mad at him for long." A tear slipped from the corner of her eye and she wiped it away. "I miss him, and I worry about him constantly. I just want him back, so he could play his role in the war."

Thor was looking at her thoughtfully, and she waited for his verdict, all while doing her best to look concerned, earnest, and sad all at the same time. Fandral studied her as well, though not as ardently as the thunderer. Amora knew the fair-haired warrior was admiring her beauty and the way her dress hugged her curves more than deciding if she was telling them the truth or not, but she kept up the pretense just to be safe.

Finally Thor nodded, leaning back with a sigh. "Laufey is threatening to pull his forces from the battlefield unless Loki returns. Why would he even leave? This isn't like him."

Amora didn't answer; she knew that to offer an alternative would make Thor wonder if she was trying to divert his attention onto other matters. Instead, she sighed softly as well and turned her head, as if she was drifting off into her own daydream.

Thor seemed to think that there was nothing left to ask or learn from her, for he bade her a good day and left her chambers, closing the door softly behind him. Before he left, he encouraged her to come to him if she thought of anything that might help, and she had promised him that she would.

Once alone, however, she waved her hand over the spot where her basin lay, which showed her the black wolf that was curled up behind a set of bushes.

On the road to Tromsø

The road was rough, and the route he'd taken even rougher still. Loki had opted to take the forest road rather than the main one that snaked through the lands and connected the towns, if only to avoid being followed by the hunting party.

His feet – or paws, rather – were getting tired from all the walking, and he'd given in to the limits of his current body by sleeping for five hours and hunting his food for another thirty minutes. The woodland rabbits of this realm were rather fast…

After leaving the Foster home, Loki had made a straight course to Tromsø. The forest road was clearly unused, and he could barely make out the path that snaked past the trees. But his determination to reach the village spurred him on. Jane was alone with that wench of an aunt of hers; he was the only family she had left.

Loki knew that Jane's true family was her aunt, but he had a feeling that the older woman did not have her niece's best interests at heart. Being a liar and a trickster had made him a connoisseur of like-minded people, and all he saw and heard from Lilith were lies.

Why he held on to the unspoken promise to John Foster to take care of Jane, he didn't know. All he knew was that the three of them had formed a home in Midgard, and if he was fated to die here, he wanted to do so in the company of familiar people. Not in some dark, isolated corner of the realm, for that meant that Amora had won.

The hours slipped past, and again his paws were aching. Even wolves like him needed to rest from all the running and walking, and with night fast approaching, he knew he needed to rest soon. It wouldn't do him any good to reach Tromsø completely exhausted, after all.

Finding a spot behind a cluster of bushes, he curled up and slept. His dreams were of Asgard and Jotunheim, of the bloody images that came with the sight of war and conflict. Interspersed with such images were of Amora, her evil laugh, and her oath that she would come back for him.

A growl formed in his throat at this, but he was too deep asleep to even hear it. He woke to the sun's rays streaming through the gaps of the trees, and he yawned and stretched, shaking his body as if to dispel the soil that had stuck to his fur as he lay there.

He began his trek once more, this time managing to steal a few bites of unattended roast meat on a spit, and scaring several squirrels just to keep himself from being bored. When the forest road gave way to the main road, he opted to stay further along the treeline to give him time to duck out of sight.

It was during the second day that the weather suddenly changed: furious sheets of rain poured down from the sky, soaking him in a matter of minutes. He'd pushed on despite the way the rain beat against his body, until finally he conceded defeat and sought shelter in a small 'cave' of rocks. What caught his attention the most was the erratic manner with which the weather changed.

After the third downpour, Loki realized that this pattern had a more celestial origin.

Amora, he growled, half-hoping she could hear him. Stop this madness at once!

But like all the other days where he called for aid, his mind remained silent. The sky, however, wasn't, and remained so for hours. Finally accepting that the weather wasn't going to cooperate – and he had a very good idea why – he slunk out of his shelter and continued on foot.

Author's Note: Thank you to those who pointed out that error in the last chapter; it's been fixed. :) Now I know the Black Death came from fleas that were carried by rats and other rodents, but for the purposes of this story I changed it a bit. I did base the symptoms on the actual symptoms of the Black Death, so there you go. Also, the next chapter will be a tad short, since it'll serve as a bridge between these events and the events that would come after it.