Jane woke the next morning in her room, in her bed. Her eyes strained to fully open, and when they did, she saw Loki. He was sitting on one of her chairs, watching her.
"Good morning, my elf," he said, though there seemed to be something amiss.
Jane stretched and sat up. "Morning, Loki. What's going on? How long have you been here staring at me?" she smirked.
He cleared his throat and looked away. "Only a few minutes...I need to leave."
Her eyes went wide and her mouth fell open. "Leave?"
"For a day or so...I am needed on Jutenheim. The fighting has stopped, Asgard has won, and Odin requires my presence for diplomatic reasons."
Jane got up. "I'll be right back," and she went to clean her face and teeth. She reemerged and went to him, sitting just opposite, and pulling the chair a bit closer. "Can't Thor do that?"
Loki laughed. "Thor? Engage in diplomacy? He cannot see beyond his hammer..." and Loki slid from the chair, onto his knees, in front of Jane. His hands were on her knees. "He lacks delicacy," and his finger traced her thigh. "No soft manner of linguistic delivery," and his hands went to the exposed skin on her arm. "That which he cannot pummel, he cannot understand," and he forced her legs to part for him, situating his torso between them, and pulled her close against his chest. "His mind is untrained, his tongue virgin to those particular and subtle arts of persuasion," and his lips graced her neck, sliding softly along, as he spoke in low tones which rattled her spine. "It is I, Jane, who possess these attributes, and I'd dearly love to make you more intimate with my acumen..." and he kissed her soundly and with purpose.
He had reduced her to a quaking mess, and of course her response was passionate. His touched leveled her senses. His voice melted her brain. She couldn't think...she could only feel him and his touch, and Jane was drunk with it.
His hands rubbed along her sides, always avoiding any part of her which might elicit a more sensual response, but Jane was so far gone, it hardly mattered. "Loki," she breathed.
He pulled away with a shadow of a smile on his lips. "That is the most harmonious of sounds, elf...to hear you whisper my name in desire..."
Jane swallowed. Her eyes refocused. She cleared her throat. "Yes...well...I suppose you are accustomed to that..." she hadn't meant to sound accusatory, but it came out that way.
His face registered confusion. "What do you mean?" and he sat back on his haunches.
"I only mean..." Fix this, Jane Foster. "Well...I mean that your ministrations are effective. And that any woman would melt at your attempts at seduction, so I'm certain that you've heard your name whispered heavy with desire many times."
He sat back in his chair. "I feel as though I should be insulted...that your statement is a veiled attempt to mock me, or that you were trying to get me to stop...but it could equally be considered a compliment, so you've rendered me bewildered. Bravo, Jane. That doesn't happen often," and he smiled a bit.
Shit. Jane rubbed her face. "No...it's about me, Loki. I'm being silly..."
"Is this your embarrassment concerning your inexperience?"
She nodded and blushed. "I guess that...I mean...you've had...how old are you?" She stammered.
He cocked an eyebrow. "1,020...or so," he finished.
"Holy fuck," she responded indelicately. "Um...right. So, I suppose it'd be even more ridiculous for you not to have had a ton of lovers...and I know that to most it really doesn't matter how much experience you have or not..." At this she looked at him directly in the eye. "But...you've been with goddesses, Loki...and I can't help but feel as though I'll not...measure up, I guess. It's so silly..."
"You're right. It is silly, Jane. I wouldn't be here if I didn't want to be here. You'll learn, I hardly ever do anything I do not want to do...well, save Odin's commands..." He smiled at her reassuringly. His gaze fell. "Tell me, how many lovers have you had?"
Jane looked away. "Three."
"I was thinking that perhaps you were...ah...completely inexperienced...although..." and he pressed his forefinger alongside his cheek. "That would've been a prospect most delicious..."
Jane laughed.
"Truly, it matters not, elf...experience, no experience...I wish I could convince you...but then, I imagine it's merely something your own mind will need to reconcile." He paused. "If you'd allow it, I could truly and completely demonstrate my adoration..." he swallowed, his voice fell, and a wisp of worry passed his visage. "It could see us through until my return tomorrow..."
She noted the dubiety in his face. "Not yet, Loki...I'm sorry...I..."
He nodded, knelt in front of her again, and placed his fingers to her lips. "I have been too forward. You had made your wishes perfectly plain, and in my playfulness I have caused you disquiet. I want nothing more than to love you...utterly...but I can wait...as I had promised you."
"Thank you," she meekly replied.
"Well," and he stood. "I should be going, then."
Jane stood as well. "Now?"
"Yes...I need to get to Jutenheim...the sooner I arrive, the sooner the arrangements can be finalized, the more expeditious my return..."
"Oh, alright."
"Do not be so downtrodden, love...our reunion I'm certain, will make up for any absence, and that is what I shall dwell on. Constantly," and he gently kissed her mouth.
Jane nodded, and he disappeared.
Jane turned about the room. It suddenly felt completely and utterly empty.
She went downstairs to find Frigga at the table.
She smiled at Jane. "So...you are in love with Loki."
Jane realized that this was the first time she had seen her since the day previous, early in the morning, when all of those hideous things had happened...her mind marveled at how much had occurred in such a short span of time. "I am, yes."
"Good."
"I'm sorry?" and she sat.
"He needs you, Jane...I had foreseen it."
"You did?"
"Yes...well. I saw it as a possibility, and likely the only one in which Loki would be happy, so in that, I am grateful and pleased. I love him, very much, Jane. His happiness means a great deal to me, for he has been miserable for so very long..."
Jane nodded.
They passed their breakfast in a leisurely manner, and then Jane rose from the table to see to the children.
"Jane..." Frigga breathed.
"What?" The Queen sounded fearful.
"Be on your guard today..."
"My guard?"
But Frigga didn't continue, her face holding a faraway look.
Jane turned and went to meet the children.
Torben was well enough to attend lessons, and he received them with excitement. They were discussing literature, having spent a good deal of time on maths.
"It's all pretty girlie, if you ask me," said Seth.
"It's great!" replied Adriel.
They had just finished "A Midsummer Night's Dream" and were moving onto "Faust." Jane thought she'd give Adriel something else to read.
Jane laughed. "What do you think, Torben?"
"I think..." he paused. "I think Oberon was terrible...he made Titiana believe she was in love with an ass! To play with her like that...it was horrible. Worse than deceitful."
Jane laughed once more. "It was just a bit of fun..."
"Oberon is a trickster...and he only wanted Titiana for himself."
"Puck is the trickster..." Jane corrected.
"Puck is a pawn," and Torben's eyes grew dark with something akin to understanding, he swallowed, but said no more.
The day passed without event, and Jane went for a walk in the garden after dinner.
The air was clean, it brushed her face with a hint of fragrance. Her soul sang with the birds in flight in the atmosphere, her corporeal self drawn to the bend of the tress along the edge of the path. Their limbs hung in embrace, and she leaned against one. The rigid trunk bade her close, and she felt beholden to its charm.
Her hand softly touched its bark, and then left it, her fingers tracing along her hip, upward, gaining access to her breast. She closed her eyes, and imagined long digits instead of her own small hands, caressing her body... Her head went back, she breathed in deeply...she should allow it...
What idle convention demanded that she be a whore if she loved a married man so completely? Especially considering he was hardly married in any conventional manner? Had he ever loved his wife? He claimed that he had wanted to, but he couldn't. Did that mean that he shouldn't be allowed to love anyone? That he should be held accountable and as if a vagrant in his own life?
And what of Jane? Must she suffer also? Must she deny that which her body, mind, and soul longs for?
Perhaps she was rationalizing. Making excuses. She wanted him so badly, so utterly and completely. And it wasn't merely the attentions he had given her in the past twenty four hours or so...it was everything that he was...she saw the beauty in his manner, in his speech, his understanding. He was a good man, despite his label of miscreant. She rather fancied he had adopted it as an excuse for his isolation.
Her hand had drifted to her neck, and she felt his fingers on it...she sighed heavily at the thought and opened her eyes.
She was alone in the garden, and Loki would be home tomorrow.
Back, not home.
His home, not hers...
She began to make way back to the palace...the sooner she got there, the sooner she would go to sleep, the sooner tomorrow would come...
Did she have a home? Jane didn't know. She didn't know, and she felt its hollow truth singe her bowels.
She had never really had a proper home.
And that was a terrible opiate to suffer...the infallibility of it marred her mind.
She made her way to her room, slightly sad at the lack of Loki's transport...and up the stairs to her quarters she went.
It felt close, more close than she was accustomed to, in the palace...and quiet...the silence rang her hearing with a blaze.
Jane went inside her room, it was very dark all of a sudden.
"You love him, don't you?"
Her hand flew to her chest. "What? Torben?"
"You love the Prince."
"I..." and she went to obtain a candle... "What are you doing here?"
"You love him!" he repeated, and he sounded distraught.
Jane began to go near him. "Torben, what's wrong?"
He had begun to cry. "He's terrible, Lady Jane! And he's married! And he doesn't even love his own wife! He cannot love...I can love you..."
"Oh...oh...Torben..." she said soothingly..."Please, dearest..."
"I'll take you away. We can go anywhere via the Bifrost...I can take you...and we..."
"I can't, sweet. I am, as you said, in love with the Prince."
And a sob escaped his lips.
And then she saw it.
Her gun.
"Torben..."
"I've spoken with her. With his wife. And she told me she'd rather be dead than have what's happened to her occur..."
Jane swallowed. "Yes...but you must understand...she isn't well..."
"Would you?! Would you be well if you've lived most of your life in a cell?" He was mad with rage. "And what makes you think that he won't do the same to you?"
"Torben, listen..."
"I won't!" he screeched. "I won't listen to you defend him!" He lifted the gun. "You're better off dead, my Lady, than loving him..."
...If Jane could describe what it felt like to be shot in the abdomen, she would have said it felt like a hot poker had suddenly exploded in her stomach and its shards were scraping her insides with their rapier ends. If she could have described what her mind had registered in the seconds before the blackness descended, she would have said that she had longed to tell Loki that she loved him once more. That she could've seen Darcy again. That she could've forgiven her uncle and smacked her aunt.
But Loki...to have her kiss his mouth and whisper that she loved him...that was the last glimmer of light before her eyes fell...