AUTHOR'S NOTE: It has been far too long and I am sorry, I hope you enjoy this update, a late Christmas (or holiday) gift to all of you who have reviewed, followed, and favs. I appreciate it all and hope you are all well; if not perhaps this will allow you a small escape from whatever plagues you. Wishing you all well and please remember to review!
As a child Loki had always been smaller than the other Asgardian children, meager in his own disposition and unnaturally predisposed to the art of magic's than that of melee. Even into early adolescence his body had refused to grow as his brother's widened and heightened, Loki's had stayed much the same. But somewhere between, what midgardians would consider fifteen to sixteen, in physical appearance and mental capacity, Loki shot up. It was as if magic had been the root cause, the sudden bean shoot of growth from a meager 5'4" to just an inch of 6' caused Odin some alarm. But in vain, it had simply just been odd nature of his own physiology, having been born unnaturally small for his kind; Odin never considered he'd ever get much taller than a basic mortal man. For many, many moons Loki shadowed Thor in his stance, but what Thor had lacked in height he has made up for in strength, the golden prince of Asgard was never to be overshadowed. Over time Thor had caught up and even grown taller, though only a mere handful of inches than Loki. Even now, though no mortal would ever notice, particularly because their time around him was generally limited, Loki was exceedingly ungraceful. Sure, when he moved slowly and his movements and actions were measured, planned, and executed with the precision on a bowman he seemed godlike enough. Fandral had always goaded him at his clumsiness and unbalanced he was at times, especially when he'd first shot up. It was as if he hadn't known what to do with the long limbs he'd inherited and had often under stepped stairs and tripped, and Fandral had never let Loki forget that.
x.
Jane sat on the opposite end of the beige couch from Loki, who now sat comfortably in the nook the corner of the couch provided. One arm laying across the back of the couch and the other on the arm rest, he let his left ankle rest atop his left knee. Loki sat in regal repose and Jane saw the posture and confidence of a prince centuries in the making before her and nothing of the graceless youth he'd once been before her.
"Look are we going to play a game or not?" Jane finally asked impatiently, as her large luminous brown eyes stared into the light blue of the fallen god before her.
The corner of his mouth spasmed a small smile, he then leaned forward slightly, "A game to test your cleverness then Jane Foster."
Jane raised an eyebrow, "um…okay?"
He seemed pleased with himself and he sat back against the couch, he drew a hand to his mouth and rubbed his index finger across his lips as he thought, his thumb pressed lightly against the bottom of his jaw as he considered how to play this game to benefit himself.
Living on Midgard had proved to be as boorish and lack luster as he'd always imagined it, Jane Foster was a means to an end and he needed the upper hand. This game was taking far too long, without the aid of magic or his own natural strength, she was his only revenge. He'd considered killing her in the beginning, but killing was not his style, he preferred a more elaborate form of revenge. Why kill the woman when he would make Thor loose her not in death but in love, killing his heart without ever having to stop hers. It was poetic and the type of villainous plot any antagonist in a Shakespearean play would plot, Shakespeare being one of the few impressive achievements of this world, Loki found it rather poetic in itself that he had chosen such a way to bring down Thor.
"Thirty white horses on a red hill first they stomp then they chomp then they stand still."
Jane stared at Loki momentarily, eyes unmoving from a undiscerning spot to the side of Loki as she thought, unconsciously biting her lower lip as she thought. Loki had considered giving her a time limit, but then he'd undoubtedly win, he wanted to at least give her the illusion that she had a chance. Jane continued her unconscious ritual, her lower lip becoming steadily redder as it slipped out from her teeth and she bit it again. Loki suddenly realized he'd been staring at her mouth and that he was no longer leaning against the couch but leaning ever so slightly, slowly towards her. He pulled his eyes away and stared at the coffee table to his right, he felt a small odd sensation for a moment, then pushed it to the back of his mind and looked back at her.
"Well?" he stated, sounding more impatient than he actually was.
"um..okay, I think I got it, but I just wanted to make sure, teeth. It's teeth, right?"
He nodded his head, "correct."
"Yes!" she exclaimed, she sat up straighter and crossed her legs turning to face him completely. "Okay, my turn!"
Loki just raised a bemused eyebrow, as if anything this mortal could asked could stump him.
"Ok!" Jane flashed a bright smile, and much to Loki's chagrin he could not look away from it, this infuriated him, so he pointedly turned his head and stared across the room at her work table.
"Alive without breathe, as cold as death, never thirsty ever drinking, all in mail never clinking." Jane was still smiling and seemed to have forgotten whose company she kept, her posture comfortable and gaming, she tucked a stray lock of brown hair behind her ear. "Well?"
Loki took only a mere moment then responded casually, as if the answer hung in the air above him only for him to pluck at his leisure.
"A fish, of course."
"Wow, yeah. A fish." At this he looked upon her, the strange sensation did not return, so he relaxed back into the couch, tilting his head ever so slightly as he stared up at the ceiling. He considered drawing the game out, but riddles were a passion of his and in his many centuries of life he'd made himself familiar with almost all Midgard had to offer. Jane's pool of riddle knowledge was most likely not spanning more than a handful and the previous had been childish and simple.
"A box without hinges, key, or lid, yet golden treasure inside it hid." Jane laughed immediately, and Loki narrowed his eyes at her, his fingers slowly crushing the couch beneath them as tempered irritation began to boil. She was laughing at him? This entire game thus far had been more of an annoyance than boredom and she was just a carefree as the wind, and it was wearing his patience thin.
"An egg?"
Loki's jaw tensed, he exhaled slowly attempting to rein in his control, "Alright my turn!" She started but he held up a hand, Jane's eyebrows furrowed and she stopped and waited to hear what he wanted to say.
"How about an all or nothing question, I'm beginning to feel tired," he wasn't. "If you win this last one you can ask me anything and as much as you like tomorrow, and if I win.."
"If you win?"
Loki smiled again, it was small, be he was up to something and it made Jane uneasy, but a full day of endless questions, she couldn't pass up the opportunity. The worst part was that she knew that's why he'd offered it, because he knew she wouldn't. So much for not playing into whatever game he was trying to spin around her.
"ok."
Loki seemed pleased; he leaned in towards her, sliding his left leg onto the couch cushion in front of him.
"Voiceless it cries, wingless flutters, toothless bites, mouth less mutters."
Jane's smile fell, she couldn't remember what it was. Was it wind or death? Her mind was drawing a blank and for some reason she could not discern for either.
As Jane lost her own smile, his began to make his lips creep upwards as he read the telltale signs of indecisiveness upon her features.
"Come now Jane, I have not all evening." His charming lilt muttered and recaptured her attention.
"Death?"
Loki leaned back into the nook of the couch and grinned widely, holding his arms out and raising his shoulders slightly he dropped both hands to his knees.
"Afraid not, Jane Foster, the answer which eludes you is the wind."
Jane slumped back into the couch, so not only had she lost but the game was over and she could not ask any questions. "Alright what do you want to know?"
"What indeed…"
Jane sat up and gave him a steady look, her mouth open slightly in question as she looked at him, the realization that there wasn't much Loki could ask her he didn't already know.
"Jane Foster, are you a woman of honor?" he implored. Loki was now incredibly close to her, Jane leaned back to widen the distance he only shortened. He was now sitting on the middle of three cushions, one arm across the back of the couch and his other hand was leaning against the arm rest behind Jane's back.
"What the hell are you doing?" Jane whispered, unsure why she was whispering but fully aware of the warmth flooding her face.
"I just want to…test something." Loki neared her, his nose inches from her own. Jane knew were this was going and she froze, her brain didn't seem to be working correctly as she attempting to accept the fact that he was this close and by choice.
On Asgard, despite his lack of gracefulness Loki had many a woman, fleeting as the relationships had been, he knew his way with women and how to manipulate them. The women on earth seemed to be no different, so easily flustered by his closeness and beguiling smile that toyed with his lips.
Loki's eyes looked into Jane's, and he stopped, his lips mere inches from her own and he froze, there it was again that…that sensation. His heart began to irrevocably speed up, pounding against his breast bone as a rabbit's evading a hound. Jane's breathe made the small strands of his black hair that had slipped from behind his ear tickle his cheek. She did not break his gaze, slowly his eyes drifted from hers to her mouth. Those supple red lips that had caught his gaze far too many times during the riddles..
Loki then leaned in and softly let his lips touch hers, hesitant at first, they touched then lost contact and then touched again. Then slowly he leaned in more and let the kiss last, far longer than he had planned.
Suddenly he pulled away, he felt on of Jane's hands fall from his chest and he got up quickly, clearing his throat he stood with his back to her. Jane looked at him stunned.
"Perhaps you should stick to star charts and the sky, Jane Foster."
He walked back to his room in precise steps, walking through the kitchen to the back hall and into his room. He then sat down onto his bed and ran a hand through his black hair and tensed his jaw, his blood boiling inexplicably, but not from rage…
"That woman…she.." he said to himself, sleep would evade him tonight. "…she has witchcraft in her lips." He was distraught, why had he hesitated?