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Chapter 4: Occasional Demons
Loki blinked a few times and sighed silently. He shifted himself in a more comfortable position and mindlessly, he ran his pale fingertips across his lips as the great concert hall below whirled into one blurred vision.
Why am I here?
His eyes squeezed shut for a moment. Now, admit it. Just because of that one, mocking question?
Maybe.
'You have no idea who Chopin was, right?' He recalled the sound of her voice asking. She was trying to hide it, but clearly, she was smiling back then.
He sighed and rubbed his eyes.
Yes. Just that one innocent question that happened to escape Jane Foster's lips brought Loki here, in said composer's homeland.
He folded one leg over the other, propped his elbow on the armrest and rested his chin on his hand as he began pinching the soft fabric of the suit he was wearing.
It couldn't be helped, he felt unkempt. Today he didn't feel like doing anything with his hair, so he just let it twirl freely in its usual waves and slight curls. As for the clothes, he gave it nearly his best, but still, it was incomparable to what he was used to wear in Asgard.
But at least, his current suit offered a certain degree of comfort, if anything.
Come on, what takes them so long? If I recall correctly, senseless drivel was not a part of the program.
Not that he did not understand the language spoken in this country. He just did not care. Loki stirred, cleared his throat in annoyance and straightened his jacket. All the musicians were already present at the stage, so what were they waiting for?
He scowled at the talking man who happened to be the host and considered the option to set the curtain aflame to stop the guy's monologue.
I give you three minutes, Loki declared silently, eyes narrowing. Then he pushed himself against the backrest and rocked in his chair, patting his knee and looking around the box he was a guest in.
It appeared it had been reserved for a family. In the opposite corner, there were sitting two women, one nearly middle-aged, the second significantly older. They were chattering vividly, maybe just a bit noisier than needed, Loki noted. The most distant seat was occupied by a man of approximately the same age as the younger woman. He looked tired and also something else…
Loki knew that expression very well. Bored to death, that was it. Although the chap in the corner had seemingly mastered the precise technique of hiding it, he couldn't deceive the Maker of mischief.
The trickster sighed almost compassionately and moved his stare to a being sitting nearest to him.
She was the youngest one. There's no doubt, the girl must be their daughter; Loki guessed. Counting in Midgard years, she should have been around fifteen. Her figure was slender and tall, her skin white, her dark hair bound in a bun. Loki commended her internally for wearing such a nice green dress. Her fingers were clean, long and thin. She wore a necklace with green and white stones that matched with the earrings. But there was nothing to adorn her hands, no bracelet, and no ring.
She appeared to be lost in thought and nervous as she was constantly rubbing and clasping her hands.
Loki cocked his head and rested it on his hand curiously after he let the chair legs land in their original position.
He didn't make himself invisible that day. He merely veiled his presence from the humans' notice. But now, as a result of an instant whim, he let those walls down. And immediately, he observed something he recognized as a slight shiver. He smirked to himself. You seem to be quite sensitive, little thing.
The girl slowly turned her head and looked at him. Loki felt a touch of amusement at her widening eyes and dilating pupils. Yet again, he had to compliment her ability to maintain composure. Not a single feature in her face revealed that her heart had sped up.
Well, humans wouldn't notice.
But I do.
He let out a breath almost audibly. This might have been considered cute; however, he was all but used to it. He realized his charms all too well. He could enchant anyone he pleased and he knew that. And most of the time it was so easy that it almost bored him.
Well, and this is no exception… Or is it?
Loki sensed her confusion and embarrassment as well as determination to look the other way. It bemused him. We're not finished; he objected and decided he certainly deserved more attention.
And so he let his lips curl into an innocent, charming smile No. 3.
And she stopped all her movements.
I've got you.
She was looking at him, this time with a blush on her cheeks. But her eyes were unsteady. Obviously, she was thinking what to say. And eventually, she spoke.
"I thought the box was reserved just for our family tonight..." Her gaze dropped to the ground. Seemingly, that wasn't the statement she intended to begin with.
He offered a reassuring smile. "That's true. However, I was offered a vip ticket and the only free seats were here." Sweet, sweet lie.
"Oh." She nodded, still looking down, entwining her fingers. Then she looked up at him again. "I haven't seen you before. Is it your first time here?"
"Yes." Annoying truth.
"And first time here in the concert hall, or in the town in general?" she tilted her head curiously.
Loki grinned. "The second option is correct."
"Is it? Then what exactly brings you here? Are you Chopin's fan?"
"I…" Loki waited for a suitable answer to appear on his tongue. "Don't know yet." Another truth.
What makes me be this sincere with the mortals? He scowled.
"I see." The girl spilled and her sight turned away as something else caught her attention. She straightened her back to have a better view on what was happening on the stage below.
The introductory speech seemed to be over and a man with grey hair came into view as he entered the stage and stopped in front of the orchestra. The girl clasped her hands again and held a breath. But then she smiled and waved at the old man who gave her a merry glance.
"You know him?" Loki asked.
"Yes!" She laughed and waved once again, still looking at the stage. "It's my grandpa. He'd been ill, but has recovered. It's actually his comeback tonight."
"Ah." Loki nodded, feeling a slight annoyance at the sudden shift of the girl's attention.
Loki! Are you going to lose to that pathetic old mortal? His alter ego shook his shoulders to wake him up.
Never! Loki claimed resolutely and cleared his throat. "Then it appears I've chosen the right day to decide whether I'm Chopin's fan or not." He rubbed his chin with the upper side of his index finger and lifted a brow tentatively.
"Yeah!" She flashed Loki a wide, enthusiastic smile and the major part of her nervousness seemed to fade away as she giggled.
Good girl. Contented, Loki purred a silent reply and smiled back.
Luckily, the old man turned out to be far less talkative than the host. He just told a few words of gratitude, and then turned to the orchestra. Just before the lights got dimmed, Loki caught a glimpse of the two cunning eyes and a curious smile spreading on the girl's face.
A moment of deafening silence.
And then, the sound so soft and yet so complete filled the room to the tiniest apertures.
What was that?
Conducted by the old man, the orchestra moved as a single living being, producing distinct sounds that joined and mixed together on their journey around the hall. And when the woman sitting at the piano joined them, the song turned into a dialogue. The notes were so pure, like pearls falling down a staircase. A conversation without words, where everything was clear, with no need of explanation. Loki found himself in the middle of that all, and he could understand every single emotion and feeling. Joy and sorrow, happiness and sadness, all the pleasure and suffering…
As the music slowed down a bit, he let out a breath he realized he had been holding. And there was something more he became aware of. He just experienced a moment of oblivion.
For this fleeting moment, his mind got still, the gears of his intellect calmed down and stopped and the memories retreated behind thick doors.
Loki furrowed his brows. He was unsure whether to feel comforted and pleased, or taken aback and offended. He turned his head a fraction to glance at the young girl. Her chest was rising and falling with the shallow breathing. She seemed to be lost in daydreaming. Loki smiled lightly.
I think I shall join you. Just this once.
And so he let his eyelids slide shut and breathed out as he sank in the land of freedom and dreams.
Hours later, Loki stood still and unmoving under the heavy rain. He did not mind it. In fact, he barely noticed. The flower blossoms were bent and soaked with water, but they still moved with the strokes of the fresh midnight wind. Along with the dim light coming from the tiny lanterns around, the flowers were meant to decorate a tombstone sculpted in the shape of a weeping woman.
Loki found himself now in another country; in a place called Cimetière du Père Lachaise, where Mr. Chopin's mortal body had found its last retreat.
You died too soon, even by the Midgardian standards. Loki scoffed. Your life was a blink of an eye to me.
Yet… your soul dwells amongst the stars, but your work still lives in the hearts of the humans.
He tilted his head back and let the raindrops wash and chill his face. I have to thank you. I learned one important thing about the mortals tonight.
Apart from their minds and broken will, I should demand their hearts.
And with this thought firmly settled in his mind, Loki disappeared.
Jane felt roused from her thoughts as Nick Fury's voice gained intensity. Well, but she was supposed to pay attention, and especially at today's meeting, where the new security measures and rules should be discussed. She sucked her bottom lip and looked away.
She had the whole weekend to decide what to draw from the unexpected visit in the middle of the Friday night. How many times she had been holding her cellphone, ready to dial the right number and tell everything she knew?
Too many times.
Even now she was getting ready, persuading herself to speak up.
Come on, Jane. You know what's right.
Yes, she knew. However, knowing what's right was clearly not enough.
Jane, you are hopeless. The more you procrastinate, the more you will regret it later. She drummed her fingers on the table, closed her eyes firmly and got ready.
But just before she could part her lips to form words she had in mind for two days, something happened.
The pocket of her pants vibrated. Well, her phone did, to be exact.
What? Jane frowned internally. She got already used to the fact that there was no signal in this particular building. She forced herself not to move her hands.
Well, but her curiosity had the high ground, as always.
She checked all the other people gathered around the table who were listening to Nick's speech. Her eyes stopped at Tony who appeared somewhat worn out and was looking down. There were two possible explanations. First, Tony was exhausted after another crazy weekend ride. Or second, he absolutely did not mind Fury's theories and enjoyed playing Tetris on his phone. Or a mixture of both.
Jane let out a contented breath. If he can, why shouldn't I? She stated stubbornly and slowly reached in her pocket to look at the message. She bowed her head just a little bit, just enough to read from the display.
The number of the message sender was hidden, she realized a second before she started to read.
Good morning, Ms. Foster. I hope you don't mind my little intervention. I only wanted to apologise for my rushed and rather rude departure from your residence on Friday night. You must forgive me, I somehow forgot about my good manners. That said, what about some mending? Tonight at the same time? Sincerely as only I can be, L.L.
Jane had to put up a fight against a gasp threatening her throat. All right… What..? …All right…
She took a deep breath and thought. But in the end, her mind couldn't come up with anything else apart from typing an answer. Screw you, Jane.
Tis ok. She stopped. And then smiled at that darn, stupid boldness forming in her chest again. Clearly I said something that upset you. She typed quickly. On that note-can you bring a list of such forbidden topics? So we can prevent similar incidents in the future. She hesitated just for a split of a second before touching the 'Send' button.
A few bites of her lip later, her cell vibrated with an incoming answer.
May I take it as an agreement? And I can assure you that after touching that particular topic, no lists are needed anymore. I shall be looking forward to meeting you again, Ms. Foster. Oh, and would you please prepare some tea? And if you still have those biscuits from Spain, bring them, too. They were truly delicious!
It took her several heart-stopping, thrilling moments filled with panic and consternation to fully realize the implication in those last two sentences. It can't be… It…
It was you? Her trembling finger proceeded with the answer. Send. She blushed at the memory of her hands wrapped around the horse's neck. The embarrassment couldn't get worse now.
:) Sorry for the plants.
Jane had to bit her lip again. This time to suppress the chuckle. She just received a smiley from Loki, the God of Mischief. Was there anything more absurd in this world?
Well, what can be done? But remember that we'll discuss it later. Send.
Then I guess I'll have to come up with a proper apology and explanation. Well, I shall see you tonight. Of course, unless Mr. Fury isn't going to bore you to death.
Jane's heart skipped a beat. Using minimum of necessary movement, she looked up and around the room.
You're here? She typed then.
Another awakening came as she heard Nick's voice sounding through the room. "…And should you notice anything, and I mean anything unusual, make sure to report immediately…."
A message came and made her look at her phone again. Well, Ms. Foster? Aren't you supposed to report this?
Her breath quickened. He was there. In the very room. She would have bet he was standing right behind her back. Her head moved automatically to peek over her shoulder, but she stopped the movement halfway as she felt warmth on her ear.
"Talk soon, Ms. Foster. " A whisper sounded and the warmth was gone.
Live out in sad shacks at the back of town.
Hold your breath while we do you down
'cos we're all kinds of animals coming here:
occasional demons too.
(Jethro Tull; Occasional Demons)