Author's Note: Sorry for the delay on this chapter. Hospital…nothing seriously wrong…pain…Long story short, I'm fine, but let's just say that emergency rooms don't have great internet access.
CHAPTER NINE
When Loki awoke, he found himself staring at a wall of rock overhead: solid, uneven stone so hard that even the wind's banshee cry had an echo.
He frowned slightly as he forced himself to sit up. Why could he hear the wind howling? More importantly—where was he?
He turned to the left as an audible shiver resonated through the cave. Jane was curled up in a little ball next to a damp pile of twigs and logs in the center of the cave, her eyes gazing without seeing into space.
Loki reached his hands towards the low ceiling, arching his back in a stretch. "It works better when it's lit, you know."
Jane jerked as though abruptly leaving a daydream. She rubbed her eyes with a yawn as she turned to him.
"Sorry. I started dozing." She grimaced, glancing between Loki and the pile of twigs apologetically. "I, uh, tried starting the fire. The snow got it all wet."
"Ah. I take it we landed safely in Jotunheim, then?"
"More or less. I have no idea where we are, but…We're in one piece. I'm not complaining." She gave him the sort of look he imagined was usually reserved for a specimen under a microscope. "What happened in travel? You weren't supposed to black out."
"It seems I underestimated how much damage the shard did to my magic. I was unable to anesthetize myself and travel simultaneously."
His answer satisfied Jane. She squinted at him hesitantly. "Do you have enough magic to light the fire?"
Loki flicked his wrist lazily in the direction of the tinder. Tangerine tongues of flame promptly burst out of the woodpile, casting wild shadows across the cave walls.
Jane smiled politely. "Thank you," she said stiffly.
They listened to the fire crackle for a moment without speaking, savoring the warm haven from the cold. Jane got up after a minute.
"I should wake Darcy. She has next watch."
"Don't bother," Loki muttered. "She's resting. I don't want to have to carry her tomorrow. I've slept enough. You mortals are the ones in need of a respite."
Jane stared at him for a second, and then shrugged. "Your call," she said. "I don't care as long as someone keeps watch while I'm asleep." She yawned. "Goodnight."
"I shall wake you both shortly after sunrise."
She babbled something that might have been a reply. Loki started to ask her to repeat herself, but she was already falling asleep.
He studied her body language carefully. Here was an opportunity he could not afford to miss: the opportunity to study his companions in an unguarded, completely vulnerable state. Jane's face lacked any surprises. Even in sleep she had a shrewd, intelligent, decidedly scientific look about her. Something in her eyes, her pursed lips, suggested perpetual hypothesis, as if she went through life like an experiment. Her posture, on the other hand, was fragile, childlike. She seemed to be reaching out for something, her arms restlessly seeking a someone to hold on to in the night.
Loki grimaced. Jane really did seem to miss him. As arrogant, as foolhardy, as idiotically careless as Thor may have been, something about him must have been attractive to her…not just his stereotypical pretty-boy looks or his physique. Jane had loved Thor.
His stomach turned. Thor and love in the same sentence together…it was so wrong. How could anyone love him? He had been a monster, a raging animal, so blind to his own faults that he didn't even strive to change them. Yet somehow, everyone adored him, worshipped the ground he walked upon.
Even Jane: astute, scientific Jane.
Perhaps Thor was not the monster he had seemed to Loki. Maybe he had his reasons…just as Loki had possessed a rationale for his crimes.
He shook the thought away as if it were an errant fly. It was not himself or Thor he was studying right now. It was the women he was traveling with he needed to scrutinize.
He forced himself to look away from Jane, to turn away from his roiling thoughts. He stared at Darcy, forcing himself to detach his emotions, his hate. He needed to think with thought alone, not his impulses or emotional whims.
He looked intently at Darcy's face as he had Jane's, analyzing it. His thoughts seemed to come to a standstill, all at once dedicated solely to what he was seeing.
Darcy was smiling in her sleep. Not the benign, angelic, idiotic smile that most people had when they dreamed. It was not even a true smile upon her lips—they merely quirked to one side as if she were debating whether to laugh at something or not. She was...Loki wasn't quite sure what the correct word was. Not smirking; it was too good-natured for that. But it was not grinning either. She didn't look euphoric; she merely seemed amused by something.
The only comparison that came to mind was a picture of Midgard he had once seen, a portrait of an Italian woman in their Renaissance Era. The Mona Lisa, mortals called it. He had never understood their love for that picture. There really was nothing remarkable about the woman's face…come to think of it, she was rather homely.
Looking at Darcy's face, he began to understand the appeal. It was faintly magnetic, a snake hypnotizing its prey, begging the viewer to tilt their head this way and that in a vain effort to divine what the bloody woman was smiling at.
It was maddening. He couldn't look away.
Really, he mused, Darcy wasn't that much prettier than the Italian woman. She had nice cheekbones…and her skin was even…and her lips were full…and her hair was dark and shiny, and it looked soft to the touch. She had lashes that Freya would envy. And her eyes were the most intriguing shade of…
Her teeth, the little voice in his mind nagged. Her smile is crooked. And she is no Amazon. She lacks muscle. She is not thin or tall or athletic like the woman you usually find beautiful. She is weak and soft and…
Soft didn't sound unappealing at all. At the present, it sounded quite nice, actually. Who wanted to have something thin and bony bumping up against you when you're trying to have…
Loki closed his eyes. The medicine the mortals had given him was doing very strange things to his head. Irrational, counterproductive things.
He looked into the fire when he opened his eyes and stared into the heart of the blaze. He watched the flames fly erratically from the tinder, dancing without rhyme or reason, fracturing as they hit the sky. Amidst the golden hues, a shot of blue shone out from the heart of the inferno, shifting restlessly between near-white and the color of an ocean at night faster than the blink of an eye.
With a sigh, Loki rose to his feet and strode to the mouth of the cave. It was going to be a long night. He might as well calculate how far they had to travel.
"Darcy."
She smiled vacantly at the voice. It was all smooth and British and serious. "Five more minutes," she murmured.
"The sun rose half an hour ago. At least, it should have. I think there's a sun in Jotunheim's planetary system."
Darcy opened her eyes. She realized all at once how cold it was.
"There has to be," Jane said from across the room. Darcy gave her a confused look. "A sun," she clarified. "No star, no planets. It must be very cold, though. Maybe dead, a brown dwarf. Couldn't be much warmer than a red giant."
"Reasonable possibilities to be certain," Loki said, "but irrelevant. It seems that the clouds are too thick for its sun to fully penetrate. We cannot rely on any warmth while we are here."
"How can we breathe?" Darcy muttered. Her brain was beginning to operate for the day. "I thought planets with clouds like that were toxic and crap."
"Planets that Midgard's scientists know of," Loki reminded her. "Obviously, your people were missing some key facts."
"What I would give for some astronomical equipment right now," Jane sighed.
"I'm sure you'll have plenty of time for science on Asgard," he said dryly. "Right now, our priority is to move efficiently and safely. Gather your things. We shall depart shortly."
The two women looked at each other, equally wistful for the science they were missing and eager to be on the move.
"He's right," Jane said. "I can do science later."
"I'm starting to think he was a Boy Scout in a past life."
Jane stared at Darcy for a second and moved away to pack her things. Darcy looked defensive.
"Oh, come on! Can't you see him in the little khaki shirt and shorts? With, like, knee socks and a neckerchief and fifty million merit badges all over the place?"
"No, I can't. And I don't think you can either. I'm guessing your mental images of Loki don't usually involve quite that much clothing."
Darcy shrugged. "You got me there." She paused, smiling. "Hey, what about Thor as a Boy Scout? But, like, without a shirt. Just the sash and…"
"Darcy!"
"Right," she said sheepishly.
Jeg har hatten drøm, forbi viddavmannen åsi hvadrømmendetvar:mannen er, men et esel, hvis hangår omå utlegge dennedrømmen.Jeg syntesjegvar -det er ingenmannkan fortellehva.Jeg syntesjegvar. Ogjeg syntesjeghadde. Men mennesketer, men en oppdatertdum,hvis hanvil tilbyå si hvajeg syntesjeg hadde...
"How much farther do we have to walk?"
Loki turned to squint at the women trailing behind him, their voices faint in the wailing wind.
"Not long. We shall search for a cave after we have walked another half mile."
He faced into the gale again, screwing his eyes up against the ice pounding against his face.
Øyetav mennesketharikke hørt, øretav mennesketharikke sett, er mennesketshånd ikkei stand til åsmake, tungenå unnfange...
"God, this is boring. I wish I had my iPod."
Loki rolled his eyes. "Try translating a poem," he yelled. "It passes the time."
...eller hanshjerteå rapportere, hva drømmen minvar...
"I only speak English. And I don't have any poems memorized."
"It's not my job to entertain you, mortal," he snapped. "Make up a poem if you're so bored."
Damn. I lost my place. Now I have to start from the top of the monologue. Loki racked his memory, searching for the opening line of the speech to begin anew his translation.
"Roses are red…violets are blue…"
"What are you babbling about now?"
"I remembered a poem! I'm reciting it!"
"I said you should think of a poem, not say it out loud! Unless your goal was to make me die of horror at the state Midgardian literature has sunk to since my last visit, please, be quiet!"
Darcy fell silent. Loki was once again free to listen to the wind crying and translate his literature in peace to pass the time until they reached their destination.
"Snow is white…Loki's eyes are green…He's kind of an asshole…and definitely mean."
He groaned. Last time I give a mortal something to do, he thought to himself.