Hello my dear friends! First of all, thank you for following and supporting this story so far, you've been all so great! Keep it up please! And as a little reward for all the encouragement I've been receiving from you, I'm happy to inform you that there was a lot of incredible fanart linked to this story created. This includes graphics by stuff_0f_legend and allinye and also a trailer by stuff_0f_legend. Everything available at: payheravisit . livejournal . com (just remove the spaces)
Important note: I'm not sure how to put this... Well, those who have read "Stragazers" surely remember Loki acting Gollum. And surely you're waiting now for this to be explained. So, the moment has come and I tried to plot that in this very chapter. However, I realize that Loki had been introduced to Tolkien's works in the epic Lokane story "Fallen Star" by Alydia Rackham. So, hereby I attempt to pay an homage to that wonderful story; and I truly hope Alydia might read it once..? (Or maybe not... I'm so nervous about it!)
So, enough of the drivel, let's proceed! (oh, and disclaimer: I own nothing, as usual...)
Chapter 5: Alsatia
Alsatia in London, was the name given to an area lying north of the River Thames covered by the Whitefriars monastery, to the south of the west end of Fleet Street and adjacent to the Temple. Between the fifteenth and seventeenth centuries it had the privilege of a sanctuary (…) and as a result it was the refuge of the perpetrators of every grade of crime, debauchery, and offence against the laws.
(Wikipedia dot org/wiki/Alsatia)
Jane sighed quietly as she checked the temperature of the teapot.
It felt precisely as it should be. Not too hot and not cold, either. Just warm enough.
She wasn't used to drink tea too much but once she did, she liked it warm. Oh yes, one thing she truly hated was a cold, black tea; there's no deny. So she tapped the lid of the teapot impatiently, bit her lip and turned around. And kept staring at the door.
The entrance to her little mansion. Tiny, poor, but hers. Jane Foster's only.
Jane took a few tentative steps forward, held a breath for a second before pushing the door open and looking outside.
No one.
Just darkness and silence. Well, she used to like the silence. It always offered calm, peace and comfort.
But not anymore. Nowadays, silence meant nervousness and the constant feeling of something unknown gnawing at her very being.
Nevertheless… There was something else creeping behind it all. Jane refused to name it, but during each of the three nights she spent alone and wondering, she kept approaching the word.
Excitement.
Something new. Something worthy of her attention and study.
She hiccupped with a thoroughly unwelcomed and impudent chuckle.
Nah! Scientists are hopeless. All of them.
Digging her stare into the darkness, Jane hummed silently, softly, just to break the stillness for a second. After all, it had been her humming that attracted him here that night. But still, there was no living soul around. So she switched on the tiny lamp that hung outside, retreated back into her trailer, closed the door and sat on the floor, embracing her legs.
What time was it back then? Half past ten? Eleven?
She frowned. Oh, come on, it must have been around this time!
Jane cleared her throat and listened to the quickly fading echo of the sound. Then she stood up abruptly and walked to her bed, sat down crossing her legs and opened the laptop. For a short moment, her fingers lingered on the keyboard. But then, feeling too nervous to create something meaningful, she withdrew, annoyed.
No, no more work tonight.
Jane let her index finger tease the touchpad while falling in thoughts. Suddenly, she twisted her look to the tiny, thin box lying beside the laptop. She scowled at her cell phone as if it was a strange, unknown thing.
But then, Jane grabbed it and went through the received messages. 'Sincerely as only I can be, L.L.', she read for a fifteenth time. Her thumb was ready to type. But the letters and words whirling wildly in Jane's head just wouldn't stop and form into anything coherent.
Nonsense. She spat at herself, tossed the phone on the bed and rested her cheek in her palm. What does the second L mean, by the way?
Jane couldn't think of anything to do, so eventually, she just closed the text editor window and instead, she opened and searched the music folder. Honestly, this silence is killing me!
She paused for a while and then, as if an unexpected idea struck her, Jane started searching for something particular. There. The old record of her mother's concert. How long it had been since she had listened to it last? Ages.
Before clicking the play button, Jane tapped at her lower lip, her eyes roving around the room. Then she bent forward, reached out her arm and searched under the bed. Soon, her hand moving like a spider, she found the cable of the speakers, pulled it up and plugged in. Play.
Truth, some kind of white noise could be heard in the background, but the sound of the piano was still impressive. Satisfied, Jane stood up, poured herself a cup of the warm tea and sat cross-legged beside the entrance again.
One minute, two, five…
Jane let out a sigh and rested her head against the cabinet behind her. Her eyelids slid down slowly and she simply let the soft sound embrace her. And mindlessly, her fingers just followed the melody, pattering on her calf.
Beautiful.
What's the name of this piece? She searched her memories. Oh, Jane…
"Shame on me, I can't remember!" she complained aloud to herself, waving her hand and tilting her head back.
"Berceuse, Op. 57." A silent voice answered for her. The sound of it was so delicate and pleasing, fitting effortlessly to the music. It almost felt like the vocal chords that spoke those words were made just for this moment.
Jane, startled a little, bent forward and waited. Then she got up to her feet and opened the door fully. Observing the surroundings, Jane held onto the doorframe. She found no one, so she leaned the cup in her hand against her chest, bowed her head and looked down.
"Seems like you did some research." She tried.
Silence.
"You just can't stand being behind, am I right..?" Jane looked up, holding her breath not to miss any sound.
No answer.
"Very well." Jane smiled and nodded. "Then what about this one…" she planted virtual bait and turned around. Quickly, she reached the laptop and switched the song to Schubert's Impromptu.
And rising her brows and keeping the smile on her face, she slowly ambled back.
Two peridot irises welcomed her in the doorway. "And you, Jane Foster, seemingly can't stand being pushed out of the position of the ultimate know-it-all, am I right?" He asked, leaning forward a bit, his hands clasped behind his back.
A slight crease appeared between her brows as she tilted her head; but it vanished as quickly as it came. After all, she was still unsure how to react.
Patently awaiting some kind of witty remark, Loki "The-mysterious-second-L" arched one eyebrow. "Well, Miss Foster?"
She gave a faint, uncomprehending smile. "Well what?"
He looked straight into her eyes, but there was something playful in his expression. He checked briefly on his fingernails. "It's said that a lack of objection means a silent approval."
"Well, um…" Come on, Jane. It's your turn to say something clever. Go on!
"Eh… Want some tea?" Crap…
No matter how hard she tried, there were no words available in her blank mind.
"Sure." He sighed in reply.
Seems there's a long evening ahead.
Feeling extremely awkward, Jane turned around, stood her cup on the counter carefully and poured another one. She felt all alerted and stiff while waiting for any sign of a movement behind her. However, nothing happened, so she turned back to face him.
"Here you go." Jane uttered and looked elsewhere to avoid his eyes. "Come on, aren't you going to take it?"
He remained unmoving in the doorway. "I'm not your guest, Jane."
"Ah." Well, the excitement was a bit exaggerated term. If anything, this was perfectly tense.
See, Jane. I've told you. You've gotten yourself in a trouble. Enormous, gigantic trouble.
"Or at least… I don't remember being invited inside." He crossed his arms and leaned against the doorframe. And when Jane dared to look at him, it seemed the mysteriously playful attitude was almost there again.
"Yeah, um…" Quickly, she took both cups and handled one to him.
"You know…" Jane began, not too certain what she actually wanted to say; and paused right after.
"The tea's getting cold already. You're late." She blurted out to break the silence, just before she could reconsider her words. As a result, she bowed her head nervously and attempted to take a sip, as if nothing happened.
However, she failed to swallow. Her wrist shot up to press against the wet mouth and her body shook with a series of choked coughs.
"Miss Foster…" Loki shook his head. "This beverage has to be sipped, not inhaled." He purred mockingly, obviously enjoying the little show.
Standing her cup on the cabinet, Jane propped her arm against it, trying hard not to smile at this (again?) totally absurd situation. When she managed to gain some composure, she took a few shallow breaths and wiped her mouth with the long sleeve.
"I know, but thank you for the reminder." She managed in a hoarse voice.
"You're very welcome. However," A dark eyebrow went up again. "You should remember one thing, Jane." Dramatic pause. "Loki is never late." He stated silkily and sipped on his tea, calm through and through.
"I see." She cleared her throat, not knowing what else to add. But suddenly, a light sparkled in her mind. Still propped and looking down, she twirled her lips just a little.
"Nor is he early," Jane recalled aloud. "He arrives precisely when he means to." She looked up and waited, enjoying his half puzzled, half appreciative stare.
"Correct, Miss Foster." He shifted in his position to have a better view of her. "How did you know?"
"Just guessed." Jane smiled and straightened. "Apparently, all wizards are the same."
"Oh, are they?" Loki cocked his head, looking entertained. "And how many wizards do you know?"
"Just a few." She grinned and looked away. "Well," she cleared her throat lengthily, "I'd like to preserve some warmth here, so…" Be careful, Jane. You shouldn't invite him inside. "So, what about closing the door? We can sit outside for a while." She offered and walked to her bed to take the blanket with her.
When she returned, the blanket already wrapped around her tiny figure, she found him standing in the same position, wearing an unreadable expression. "Well?" She lifted her brows at him.
Oh dear, here it comes again. Me being brave.
"I believe…"she glanced outside, narrowing and focusing her eyes as if searching for something, "that just a few moments ago, someone mentioned that the lack of objection equals to a silent approval."
"You learn quickly, Miss Foster." He all but whispered.
Getting alerted again, Jane watched his hand move.
"Ladies first." he gestured.
"Yeah." Jane breathed. "Thanks." She obeyed his command, smiling faintly.
Jane observed the door closing by itself behind her enigmatic visitor and then she sat on the first doorstep. Loki sat down beside her, placing his right leg on the second step, the left on the ground below. The arm that was holding the cup by the rim rested on his knee; his back and the dark-haired head leaned against the closed door. His eyes slid shut.
Jane observed all that. Silently, attentively. She had to admit that there was no doubt that this man had been raised in a royal family. There was something noble, regal, elegant and absolutely effortless in his every move.
He's wearing the same clothes as before. She noticed. But…
"What have you done with your hair?" Jane implied as she watched the unruly, dark waves.
Loki opened his eyes and not lifting it from the door surface, turned his head slowly. He held her gaze for a moment, then caught one curl between his slender fingers and straightened it.
"Nothing, actually." He shrugged and watched the hair strand.
Then he looked at her again. "So tell me, Miss Foster. Who are those wizards you know?"
Jane let out a laugh and leaned back against the door as well. She looked up at the starry sky, glad that the dim light of the small lamp was directed away from her sight.
"They are no real people, I'm afraid." She sighed eventually.
"I guess that some time ago you wouldn't have considered me the real person either." He pointed out matter-of-factly.
"Yes, but…" she paused to think over her next statement. "I'm quite certain the wizard we're talking about is not a real person."
"How can you know?"
"He's a part of a fairytale. Product of a writer's imagination." Jane insisted, placing her confident stare upon her companion.
"And am I not?" he lifted a brow provocatively.
"N…" Jane tried but then let her head lean back again. "I'm not sure about anything anymore." She sighed at the flickering stars.
"Sounds familiar to me." He answered and took a sip of his, now certainly cold, black tea. "Nevertheless… Real or not, the one who said those words about wizards sounds like a wise person."
"Indeed." Jane smiled. "Good, old Gandalf." She added more or less to herself.
"You mean Gandalfr?" Loki frowned. "He's a wizard in your fairytales?"
"He is..." Jane's forehead furrowed as she trailed off. "Wait!" she beamed and straightened. "You're familiar with the name, aren't you?"
"Yes." He pointed out almost carefully, watching her. "Unluckily." He sighed then and shook the liquid in his cup. "Naughty little dwarf."
"Dwarf..?" Jane bent forward, ran her fingers through her hair and laughed. "Well, that's… of course, it's based on the Norse myths… Or at least inspired. Kind of." She muttered, smiling.
"I'm still here, Miss Foster." Loki reminded.
"Yeah, I know." She mumbled, letting go of her hair-strands.
"Perfect!" Loki chirped sarcastically. "Then would you please talk to me?"
"Ah… Yeah, of course." Jane returned from the land of her thoughts and entered the reality once again. "Sorry, I was just thinking about the basics of the story."
"The one which that Gandalfr is a part of?"
"Gandalf." Jane corrected him straight away.
"That's a wrong spelling."
"Stickler."
"Thank you." He answered calmly, looking satisfied.
Jane furrowed one brow. Her mouth, ready for the next round, froze. The air ready to voice another argument was just exhaled instead.
She narrowed her eyes at him. "Has anyone ever told you you're insufferable?"
"Watch your mouth, Jane." He stated quietly, looking away.
And the hidden menace his voice was holding had Jane's heart skipping a beat.
"And yes, I've been told too many times for even trying to count." His voice shifted like the direction of the wind; taking the sudden tension completely away.
Jane allowed herself a small sigh of relief.
"You've been referring to a story, Miss Foster. Please, continue." He spoke after a moment. "I've become quite interested."
"You have?" she smiled. "Well, then why don't you read yourself?"
"Oh, Jane… I don't think so." Both his smile and tone revealed a plain, rude scorn. "My time is too precious for another Midgardian rubbish."
"What?" Jane felt suddenly taken aback in a very unpleasant manner. He may have shown something like favor or interest, but at the end of the day, he seemed to hold the same disdain for everyone else except him.
Jane scowled, straightening her back, looking directly in his eyes. He seemed amused and expectant. And that had her getting angry.
"Then why are you here? Right now? Aren't you wasting your precious time with me as well?" Jane retorted, making sure to give an extra emphasis to the right words.
But all she got from him was a mere chuckle. He stood his cup between them and ran his fingertip around the rim. "Tell me, Jane, do you consider yourself clever?" he began quietly, observing the cup.
"What?" She spat, becoming furious. "What do you mean?"
"Clever, Jane." He suddenly leaned in, like a wolf hovering above its victim. "Shrewd, or intelligent in other words. You do understand English, right?" the words came out in a form of a hiss so cold it sent a chill down her spine.
And no, she couldn't stop her fury from transforming quickly into fear.
"Well, there are… There's certainly a bunch of people more intelligent than me, but… Why do you ask anyway?" Jane tried to keep her voice from trembling. In vain.
"Why?" he whispered, lifting his brows all but innocently, his eyes fully opened, piercing her soul. "Do you believe, Miss Foster, that I would come here if I had considered it a waste of time? Do you really think I would even bother with the thought?"
She breathed out, staring into his eyes that harbored both curiosity and insanity. What had happened to this being? A silent question sounded in a faraway place of her mind.
"Sounds logical…" she continued carefully, buying herself a few seconds more, "But you can never be sure, can you?"
His head, so close to her face, tilted in the tiniest angle. Her eyes slid to his thin lips.
"I mean, you cannot tell something is a waste of time unless you just give it a try." She muttered, lifting her stare back to his eyes.
"Continue." He commanded, his expression and voice blank and absentminded.
"Um…" But how should I continue? I said everything on that topic. It's clear. Jane complained internally. She blinked a few times and then let a victorious grin to appear – well, in her mind, at least. Oh, thank you Gandalf!
"You know… Even the very wise cannot see all ends." She smiled weakly, but defiantly.
For an endless moment, he just stared, his eyes still keeping that terrifying emptiness. But then, as if an unknown entity in his head managed to strike the fire of his mind back, he smiled, bowing his head.
Compared to spending time with him, rollercoaster would feel like riding an old, fat pony.
"Jane, dear Jane." He muttered. "What possibly would you do without your good old Gandalfr?" He looked up; a sort of affable mockery illuminating his eyes this time. "Am I right?"
"Gandalf." Jane whispered stubbornly, letting a small smile on her face as well.
Loki cleared his throat as his eyes closed for a moment. "Is there anything I can do to stop you saying that?"
"You…" Jane! Shut your mouth, for everything good in the world!
"You'll have to kill me, I'm afraid." Not listening to her inner voice, she stated firmly. Brown eyes pierced the green ones.
"Be careful what you wish for, Miss Foster." He warned, his voice stinging and sweet. Then he tilted his head again and gave Jane a long, inquisitive stare. "Do you not fear me?" he asked at last.
In reply, Jane just turned away silently, embraced her knees and looked away into the night. "First of all, I don't know you." She inhaled and paused to think.
"And it's said that it's the unknown that makes people afraid." She spoke then. "However, it's always been the unknown that I considered fascinating."
He chuckled mutedly. "Truly a diplomatic answer." He sighed in an appreciative manner. "Saying nothing and everything at the same time… That's a rare ability."
"Thanks." Jane turned to him with a wide smile, bringing one hand up to support her head. Her lips parted to say something more, but then joined again.
A peaceful silence encircled them. Just the delicate, muted sound of the old music was making its way through the air.
"Ah! The Raindrops." Loki noticed.
"Yes." Jane breathed, stretched her arms and laid her head on her knees. Slowly, her eyes closed.
"Are you tired?" Loki asked quietly, almost as if trying not to spoil the sound.
"No." Jane smiled and swayed a little. "I just have a weak spot for this particular piece of 'Midgardian rubbish'." She muttered in reply, giving him a quick, tentative glance.
"Don't you dare abuse my statements, Jane." He all but smiled, sneaking one finger in his now empty cup, overturning it.
Jane just grinned back, shrugging slightly, and let her eyes close again. She felt him stir in his spot when the song ended.
"What's the name of that book?" He asked, sounding as indifferent as possible, rocking the overturned cup from side to side.
"Ha!" Jane woke up. "Wait a sec." she promised merrily, shook off the blanket, jumped to her feet and retreated inside her trailer.
And with Jane temporarily gone, Loki sighed deeply, as if releasing the weight of the entire universe, and cradled his face in his hands. He could set this lonely, dismal place on fire. Let it burn to ashes. He could freeze it to the core.
I could… I…
The door creaked open and a hand holding a well-known pack of biscuits emerged first. Then the tiny figure of Jane Foster made its way out, her other hand wrapped around a book.
Giving the door a quick glance he silently commanded it to close.
"Want some?" she smiled, gesturing at the biscuits.
He nodded, displaying a playful face, but did nothing.
"Huh." She raised the hand with the pack and waited. But then she understood and shook her head, laughing quietly. "No, I'm not going to feed you this time. You have two hands now to do that yourself."
"Hm, true." He admitted and took one biscuit. "Ay," he frowned with an unpleasant surprise. "It's much harder than before!"
Jane chuckled and sat down, observing him curiously. "Can be. But I guess the real reason is that you just had a stronger mouth at that time."
"Whatever…" he muttered, still frowning. "Can I have a sip of your tea?"
"Of course." Jane answered and handed her cup to him.
"Hm…" he raised his index finger and waited until swallowing. "Can I see the book?"
"You must." Jane corrected and passed him her own, precious copy of the collector's edition of The Hobbit, bound in green leatherette with red and gold runic inscription around the periphery of the front cover. In the center of the inscription, there was a picture of a path leading through the forest in front of mountains.
"Runes! No way…" Loki murmured as he wrapped his fingers around the thing carefully. "I thought you mortals had forgotten about them."
"Well, they are just on the cover. And as the accompanying descriptions in the maps." Jane explained calmly, trying not to reveal too much of the enthusiasm and amusement she felt about the whole situation.
"I see." He let his long fingers trace the sign. "The Hobbit or There and Back Again, being the record of a year's journey of Bilbo Baggins; compiled from his memoirs." He read silently.
"Amazing!" Jane couldn't help a toothy grin, rubbing her toes mindlessly.
He darted an uncomprehending look at her. "You're complimenting me on the ability to read? Are you sure?"
She pressed her fingers to her temples. "Um… Sorry. Of course you can read." She managed with a muted chuckle before giving him an apologetic look. "You know, I'm just happy to meet another person who can read the runes, that's all."
"But I guess being familiar with the rune alphabet isn't a real advantage in this world?"
"Yes and no." She stated, sounding mysterious and observed his reaction sideways. She smiled and rested her small chin on her knees, pulling the edge of her nightgown over her toes.
"When I was a child, I had a very good friend in school. Right from the start, we were always sitting together… We loved to chat and laugh over… everything possible." She paused, licking her lips, her eyes fluttering as if trying to clear the view at her old memory.
"We were often reprimanded by the teachers for that." Her eyes shot in his direction as she heard something close to a compassionate snort. She could not stop her brow from rising slightly at that.
Here you go, Prince Loki. Seems you know what I'm speaking about. All children are the same, right?
"And one day we got separated. So we started to send messages on paper. And to avoid the teachers and others from reading our notes, we used to write them in runes." She explained, her sight lingering somewhere around the line where the illuminated ground was being swallowed by the darkness.
"Hm." He answered, seemingly deep in thought, and drummed his pale fingers on the book surface. "Isn't life just funny in a way." He sounded after a while.
"To be honest, I've been expecting you to tell me a very similar tale." Jane bit her lip, amused and curious.
"And when exactly I've become so predictable?" His eyes narrowed at her in a very impish manner.
"Ask yourself." Jane replied merrily and took one biscuit from the pack. "Ugh… Truly quite hard to bite. They must have dried up." She mumbled, frowning slightly.
"So?" Jane prompted eagerly after swallowing. "It's your turn."
"Depends on what you want to hear, Jane." He sighed, propping his elbow on the book cover and supporting his head with the hand. "My story is pretty much the same. With the minor change in the used code. We kept on using the same runes, except that I simply shifted the reading frame."
"How?" Jane's forehead creased.
"Very simply, actually. I just passed the pronunciation of one letter to another." He smiled slyly.
"So, applied on our alphabet, A would read like B, B like C…"
"Precisely, Miss Foster. The brightness of your intellect is just blinding me."
"Stop it!"
He just laughed in reply. Such a comforting, adorable sound.
She viewed him doubtfully. "Well, but it's actually very simple. How long did that work?"
"Hm. I guess the trick laid in the simplicity. I was quite surprised myself on how long we'd managed to keep the code secret." He continued, still wearing the sly expression.
"The simplest explanation is often the right one." Jane acknowledged. "However, it is quite unbelievable how many people just don't trust this rule."
"So true." He muttered.
Silence.
"And…"Jane began carefully, "who was that 'we'?" she asked eventually. And right after the words left her mouth, she was sure she should not ask this.
"Is this an interrogation or what?" The air got immediately colder around them as he turned away.
Jane clutched at her knees, wishing she hadn't voiced that question; wishing for the unpleasant intensity to ease again.
"I'm sorry." She whispered, closing her eyes firmly. And after a few tense moments, she dared to open one eye cautiously.
He was looking at the book again, studying the picture, chin cradled in his palm. "What's a Hobbit?" he muttered, his fingers attached to his lips whilst speaking.
"It's not 'what'; it's a 'who'." Jane began quietly, studying the texture of her blanket. "It's a living being." She placed her hand around her bent legs again and looked up, as if searching the words between the stars. "They look like us, but they're smaller. So they're also often called halflings."
"So… Perfectly 'Jane Foster-ish'?" He wondered in an indifferent voice, which greatly contrasted with his statement.
The cold subsided.
"No." Jane furrowed her forehead, but felt relieved inside. "No, I absolutely refuse the thought. I admit I actually…" she couldn't help a grin, "I secretly wished to be a hobbit. But that was long ago. When I was a little girl."
"Was?" his brows shot up as he turned to look her up and down. "Are you sure about the tense?"
"Yes!" she stirred, annoyed. And he seemed to enjoy it.
"And I can't be a hobbit. I mean - come on, they have hairy feet!" she protested.
"I'll be happy to give you those." He grinned. "Feel free to ask."
"No!" she yelped, dragging her feet instinctively closer to her body, watching him lean closer again.
"Are you sure?" he purred amusedly, hitching his finger at the edge of her nightgown. "You should know, Jane, that I'm usually not that generous all the time. This is a rare opportunity for your childhood dream to come true."
"No, Loki, please!" She managed through all the giggles. "I prefer being human after all."
He did not reply. Instead, his eyebrows raised a level as his eyes went slowly down to the place where she was hiding her feet under the cover of nightgown and blanket. "As you wish." He sighed unfathomably, and pulled back.
Jane watched him with horror. "What have you done?" she peeped eventually, grasping and squeezing as much of the textile as she could.
"Me?" he asked all but innocently.
"Is there any other person?" she waved her hands desperately, but placed them immediately back to clutch at the edge of her blanket, keeping her toes hidden.
"Who knows…" he speculated, faking a mysterious voice. "Maybe there's a dwarf mine under your trailer, and now they're listening to our every word!"
"Oh come on!" she whined, but nevertheless, unintentionally, looked around as well. "Can't you just tell me what you have done with my feet?" she insisted angrily.
"Nothing particular." He replied casually, browsing through the book. "Just fulfilled your wish."
"Oh no."
"Oh yes." He assured and glanced at her sideways. "And why don't you check my work? I'm quite eager to hear your opinion."
"No." she retorted. "You'll laugh at me to complete my humiliation."
"Nah!" he snapped playfully. "I promise I won't."
"You're laughing already!" she frowned, but her lips twisted up.
"Oh no, I'm not." He objected, not looking at her. "Miss Foster, please proceed. Sooner or later, you'll have to face the truth, anyway."
Jane sighed, resigned. "All right." she spat and began to drag her nightgown up, slowly, carefully. "Not a sound!" she commanded, darting an angry look at the half-smirking man next to her.
"Not a sound." He promised.
And as Jane looked back at her feet, she found out they remained perfectly unchanged. Except one little detail. Her nails were painted the sweetest, stickiest shade of pink.
She just stared, her brows knitting together, falling and raising again. "What..?" She breathed out and turned to the trickster, who was currently busy fighting back a sudden urge to cough.
"So. Satisfied, are we?" At last, he grinned toothily and stood up. "You've wished for remaining human, have you not?"
"Yes." She managed.
"Well, I believe your feet are perfectly human. Or…" he scratched on his temple theatrically. "Or, is it possible for me to make a mistake? Me?" he touched his chest, looking askance at the sky above.
"You…" Jane uttered, darting a piercing stare at him.
Disregarding her menacing voice, he shook his head and placed his free arm on his hip, "No, that's rather unlikely. Right, Miss Foster?" He asked, looking mockingly straight into her eyes, tapping the book at his lips.
"You…" She stood up this time and took a step forward.
Looking casually at the book he was holding he took a step back in response. "Well, Miss Foster, it's been a most enjoyable talk; however, I'm afraid the Time is an unmerciful lord and I should bid you farewell for tonight."
Taking another step back, Loki weighed the copy of The Hobbit in his hand. "Thank you for the book. I shall return it tomorrow."
Remaining silent, Jane just proceeded with walking towards him. But then she was forced to stop as he placed his intense gaze upon her.
"And one more thing. Since you refused to have fine fur on your feet, I would not recommend walking on the cold ground without proper shoes." He stated firmly, and left Jane marveling at how quickly he was able to change his tone from playful to adamant.
"I can decide on my own…" she protested weakly and checked briefly on her bare feet. She wanted to finish the objection while raising her head up again. However, she didn't, since she realized there was no one left to listen to it.
It's Alsatia
You just believe in the lie to forget the awful truth
You know the disturbance never ends
There is no reason to take this process
Resentment will change into sweet desire
You'll run for your life in this mystical world
Beware of the night…
Jane's eyes fluttered open when the first morning sunbeams tickled her eyelids. She rolled on her back and looked at the ceiling. What time it can be? The alarm hasn't ringed yet… so, 6am or 6:30, maybe? Oh please, I need to sleep at least an hour longer… She rolled back to the left side, grabbed the cellphone and checked the clock with a hope and a worry at the same time. However, it was something else that caught her attention in the first place.
A message.
Open!
Confused, she let her eyebrows collide a first. But then she realized the dream that had her tossing and turning the whole night hadn't been just a dream at all.
"And what would you do, if an uninvited dwarf came and hung his things up in your hall without a word of explanation?" – My fist clenched at that! Nevertheless, great first chapter. My word I like the Gandalf. Although, he clearly must be insane. L.L.
Jane covered her mouth to block the spluttered chuckle. Rolling on her back again, she read the message four times more, grinning in a silly manner. After placing the cell phone on her chest, the gears of her mind started to shift in order to think out an appropriate answer.
Finally, she rubbed one eye, stretched the other arm and folded it under her head. And as she did so, she caught a glimpse of her perfectly pink toenails.
I'll have to think about something particularly nasty. She decided.
Eternal vigilance is the price that you must pay to your desire
It's Alsatia
You just go against the law, fall into delusion
You know the disturbance never ends…
Tony squeezed through the slit in the door, sipped on his hot coffee and browsed the morning news on his phone.
Minor earthquake in L.A. last night… The very first headline made him stop right in front of the entrance to the restaurant he had just left. Truth, Tony himself hated when people stood in the doorways or at the top of a staircase, blocking it (and especially the kind that loved occupying the escalator exits), however, now he just did not care.
Well, nothing serious, as always… he discovered while skimming through the news. He breathed and set off.
Still, I should text Pepper. He made an internal note as he stood beside his car. Or… maybe not. He hesitated after realizing today's date. So, it's been two months already?
To be exact, two months since Pepper explained to him that it would be much wiser to put their relationship back into the business terms.
After all, it seems like you're no silly girl, Pep. Best wishes.
Tony tossed his cell phone onto the passenger seat and leaned against the opened door. For a while, he just observed the life around, biting his thumb mindlessly. Is it really worth the trouble today? He sighed at the vision of another grueling meeting with Nick. Last week we had an alert at least. But now everyone is serious like attending a UN Security Council session. Well, regardless all the boredom, time to take off. He managed to persuade himself eventually and tapped his fingers on the car surface. Furthermore, you'll need to think about something new that'll make Miss Perfect mad today.
He let out a long breath and for the last time, he looked around.
He would reproach himself for this later. However, after a few months, he would reconsider that, and some years later, he would have to admit it that this particular moment made him happy and grateful.
He sighed as he watched the town. Nothing extraordinary.
Everything as it should be. Unmoving, dry air, hot weather, boredom… His stare skipped from people to buildings, from buildings back to people…
Wait. What's that?
Everything could have been pretty normal, in its usual, dull fashion. But not today. Not this.
Tony's sight stopped at a mysterious figure sitting on the roof ledge of one of the houses with white facade across the street. It was a tall, lean man with long, black hair, dressed also in black. He wore boots and his coat reached to his knees. One of his legs was bent and his elbow was rested against the knee; the other leg hung over the ledge. And to Tony's surprise, the stranger seemed to be reading a book.
Tony blinked a few times and looked around in confusion. What's up, people? A fellow is sitting on the rooftop and is reading a book!
However, no one else apart from Tony seemed to be worried about the situation.
Nothing?
In fact, it rather looked like Tony was the only one to notice this bizzare situation. So he snorted disdainfully and stepped back from his car, viewing the others and waving his hands in a pleading gesture. Oh folks, come on!
He dared to look at the incriminated spot once again. And the unknown stranger was still there, almost like just to laugh at Tony. Which actually happened as the stranger tore his gaze from the book and looked roguishly straight at Tony. Truth, it could be hardly estimated how much roguishness the look was hiding from that distance, but somehow, Tony just knew.
And so he watched his surroundings for a moment, then removed the plastic lid and smelled his coffee carefully.
Coffee. Just coffee. But I guess I shouldn't finish it, anyway. He turned back to look at the restaurant, giving it a suspicious stare.
When he turned back, he realized the stranger kept sitting there, but was not looking at Tony anymore. Apparently, he returned to his book. Nevertheless, he seemed to sense he was being watched, and so he waved his hand slightly at Tony, possibly as a greeting.
So, Tony… Maybe the time has come to welch on everything and just go and have a good breakfast.
And determined to set his idea into motion, Tony bent forward and reached into his car to retrieve his cell phone again. He closed the door and as if appearing there in the middle of a summer Sunday morning, he walked slowly and calmly back to the restaurant.
Holding a plate of pancakes with blueberry coating and cream, Tony sat down at the lonesome table in a lonesome box by a wide window. First, he looked outside and then around the restaurant. Everything perfectly normal. All right. That's what it should be. He mumbled to himself and dug the fork into his food. At least I can read the news peacefully; he realized and took his cell phone to do so. He laid it on the table. But there was something else that caught his attention when he raised his eyes up a bit. Something that made him freeze and stop every movement, even breathing.
The stranger in black was not on the roof top anymore. No. He was in the restaurant now. Sitting right in front of Tony.
His legs were bent and rested on the bench; his back propped against the apron. And as before, he was reading a book. It wasn't in Tony's intention to study what kind of book it was, but he managed to notice it had a green leatherette hard cover. Well, nothing special.
Contrary, the stranger himself looked quite unusual. His skin was very pale, in contrast to his raven hair. And speaking of his hair, it looked like it was most probably meant to be slicked back, however, that might have been before one or two days. Now the hair-strands began to twirl and stick out. And as for the choice of clothes – well, Tony wouldn't mind to see this on a sci-fi or a fantasy con, but here..?
But disregarding that all, there was still something more, something unknown that made Tony disconcerted and nervous. What could it be?
However, Tony was not given any further time to think, as the stranger suddenly spoke, not lifting his stare from his book, his voice quiet, yet hiding a kind of enigmatic intensity.
„Have you forgotten how to greet a companion, Mr. Stark?"
Cloud in the mists of time
You must take aim and play your game
Emotional neglect is the price that you must pay to your desire
It's Alsatia
You just go against the law, fall into delusion
You know the disturbance never ends
(Galneryus; Alsatia)
Huh! Finished! Now, the question is - what do you think? Please, all "Fallen Star" fans, have mercy on me! And also - if you have spotted any mistakes in English, please, PLEASE do tell me. I am planning to take the FCE exam this term, so it would be really helpful for me! Thanks a lot and see you soon :)