*min kjæreste means 'my dearest'

Kjære means 'dear', similar to 'darling'

"I have a box of things that she left, including the letters. Most of them have some weird kind of, I don't know, ancient language on the front though. I can't tell what they say." Darcy called out from her bedroom, where she was getting the said box. Loki scoffed and rolled his eyes, some of his strength returning.

"Of course not." He muttered

"Hey!" Ian started, clearly offended. "Be nice, you hear me?"

Loki sighed and rolled his head to look at the man, a presumptuous look on his face.

"Of course I can hear you. Despite being of a different realm and higher civilization, as well as what I would imagine you might call 'alien', I do so happen to have ears that function, mortal." He smirked as Ian floundered for words, but came up with nothing and he turned back to face the wall he was staring at previously.

"My meaning, before you so rudely interrupted me, was that she could not possibly read it. Especially if she bore no training in the field of historical languages, specifically in Nordic."

"And Jane did, then?" Darcy asked, walking out of her room his the box propped up in front of her. She slid it onto the counter that Loki leaned on, making him move away and stand up properly. She refused to look at him, ever since he had announced his true connection to Jane.

He froze, though no one would have noticed, being rolled up in their own worlds, the way they are. But he did, and if anyone cared to pay attention would see how much the mention of Jane hurt him. He inhaled sharply, straightening up again.

"Yes. She did. I taught her." He told them, only intriguing them further, not that they cared much. No one truly did. No one cared to listen, to understand. But if they did, truly care, like no one did, they would see the snapping, breaking, and cracking that laid within him, how much it ached Loki: he had lost so much. They would be touched by the searing fire that tore through his veins, and the pitch ocean that crazed through his mind in fits of sorrow if they even dared to care. He would never dare show himself to anyone, ever.

And they were asking about Jane now, and what had happened to her, but they didn't truly care.

But if they did, they would be able to see that what they asked brought on memories, vivid, beautiful and perfect. And painful.

"No, no. You're still doing it wrong." Loki scolded, his eyes twinkling as Jane huffed irately.

"How? I'm doing exactly what you're telling me to do! How is it wrong?!" she shot back, outraged as she sat there, shaking angrily.

He smiled to himself, loving how passionate she was about the lesson. He loved her fury, how it sparked in her eyes and radiated from her skin, exuding from her pores. He loved to see her this way. It reminded him of himself; the burning enthusiasm to learn, to achieve, to know. He chuckled and pointed to the line they were working on.

"You're mixing up the vowels. It puts a completely different meaning on it."

"How the hell do you mix up vowels?! That's… I..." she sputtered, trying to grasp her words. He laughed openly and she turned on him, eyes burning.

"What?!" she snapped, making his laughter die down. He pursed his lips and cleared his throat, looking her straight in the eyes.

"Jane." He started, seriously.

"Yes?" she said sharply, eyes narrowing. Loki reached across to her hand, grasping it under his large hand. Drawing his eyes brows up, he took in a breath.

"You are right." Jane stood up abruptly, lips parted and Loki was almost distracted by it, but he pulled himself together, amused by her stunned silence as she looked down at him. He smirked at her before saying "You've been doing it right along, min kjæreste. You're perfect at it."

Jane gasped, infuriated. Snatching her hand away she grabbed a book that laid close on the table and reached over, hitting him with it while he laughed breathlessly.

"You bastard! How could you?!" she roared adorably. Loki could feel his heart jump with elation and he grabbed the book from her easily, putting it back down quickly and seizing her wrists before she had a chance to assault him further. She shook and glared at him, lips pursed.

She was beautiful. He loved it, incredibly so.

"Easily." He said. And with that, he pulled the standing woman down towards him and kissed her. He could feel her fighting the urge to stay mad at him, but she melted against his touch and gave in, leaning into it, kissing him back.

He pulled away subtly and let go of her hands, making her lose her balance slightly. She looked at him questioningly until he spoke.
"We had better get back to work. Wouldn't want Thor to think I'm not teaching you anything." He told her, winking.

Jane blushed and put her hands to backs of her thighs, tucking her skirts back up so she could sit down again.

"Yes, of course. Don't want him to think there is anything strange going on, do we?" she joined in, leaning towards him cheekily.

"Precisely." He replied, tapping the tip of her nose with a long finger. They grinned at each other childishly before Jane cleared her throat and directed her attention back to the book in front of her, pointing to a line and writing it down, looking to Loki for his approval before reciting it out loud. Except this was a book that Loki had written.

"And do you know what you have just recited, kjære?" he asked expectantly.

"Why, of course I do, my Prince." she replied with an air of danger.

"And just what did you say?"

" 'My King,' " she recited. " 'I have waited for you, longed for you. And now, I beg for you.' "

His eyes gleamed and he leaned towards her.

"And?"

"And," she said standing up again and closing the space between them. She stood in front of him where he sat now, two feet away. He turned to face her, a dangerous smirk on his face as she parted her lips again, leaned down and balancing herself with a hand on the table, a foot from his face. " 'I am yours.' "

His hands were around her waist and pulling her down onto his lap, his lips capturing hers passionately, meshing perfectly and beautifully together. Every touch sent a shock through Loki, making him crave more, making him want to tell her

"No." he said abruptly, stopping Jane, her hand snaking up his tunic.

"What?" she gasped quietly, pulling away and looking him in his bright emerald eyes.

"No." he repeated. "I am yours, min kjæreste."

"Hey, man… Um. Are you okay?" It was Ian, breaking through. Loki started, gasping slightly, noticing his eyes were watery.

He stuttered, not quite able to find words. This was incredibly strange for him; that his façade was breaking. He swallowed, finally finding something of his voice.
"I… I don't know." He told Ian.

Darcy was still at the box, unpacking it, refusing to look at Loki, or really even acknowledge him at the moment. So Loki walked up to her and put his hand on her arm. She flinched away, her gaze following up from the hand on her skin to, at last for the first time since Loki had mentioned him and Jane, she looked at him straight on. Her gaze was steely and guarded, as though he had killed a friend. Well, he supposed, he had. That caught in his throat, making him choke on it.

"Darcy." He managed to get out.

"What?" she snapped. That bit at Loki, as he made the connection, realizing where Jane got that from.

"Darcy, I want you to know that I…" It was getting difficult for Loki. He had not truly let himself go in a long while, and it was building up now in his chest. And that made him mad. That he was going to let go in the midst of Midgardians who had no appreciation or respect for him whatsoever. It made him mad that he was so weak. And it made him mad that Jane was dead, and that they hated him for it.

"Darcy, I loved Jane. I could have loved no one more than I did that woman. Not my brother, not even Frigga."

"I don't see how that makes a difference. You never treated any of them like you did." Darcy chewed out.

His grip tightened and she winced under the pressure, making Ian step forward.

"I loved her more than I love life itself. I would have given my last breath for her." His voice was heated and escalating as he found ground to push off of. "I would have died for her to live, and be happy. I didn't want her to die, Darcy! I didn't want her to leave!"

His breath was coming short now, and his speech came untangled and casual as is possible the midst of sorrowful anger, and words he had heard Jane speak in times of frustration came through and he was speaking through nothing but the strings of his heart now.

"But she walked through that door, and she told me to not follow, to let her go, if I loved her, that I would let her go. She may as well have asked me to stop breathing, for all it has done to me. And I would have, if she had.

"I screamed when she left. I wept for days when Heimdall told me she no longer blessed the air with her breath. I have never found a day where I have not mourned for the woman I loved more than the stars above me. There is nothing I crave like the touch of her skin, the gaze of her eyes, the sound of her laughter. And there is nothing I would not have given to make her comfortable, to be there with her, and raised our son. I wish-" his voice broke, and the tears he feared were bounding down his face. "I wish I could have made her warm while our child- the child of my frozen blood- made her so cold.

"I long for the knowledge that this was what she wanted, but I know that is not true! She told me so one day, long before any of this had happened. She left knowing she would die, and I did not! She told me fuck all, she made me promise to leave her be, because she was afraid that our love would tear apart that of mine and Thor's.

"Darcy, I loved her! I love nothing more than her existence, so don't you dare fucking tell me that none of what I feel makes no difference! Because it tears me apart every day, and I have to live with it, all of it. I have live without my other half. And nothing hurts more than that! Nothing hurts like that."