For JaninaM8

"I have little left in myself - I must have you. The world may laugh - may call me absurd, selfish - but it does not signify. My very soul demands you: it will be satisfied, or it will take deadly vengeance on its frame."

― Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre

There was little she had she desired. She was a girl of simple pleasures, and she preferred it that way.

The year was 1940. The world was at war, and Jane Foster was in London as Germany eyed the western power. There were rumors of a night bombing approaching…the early September heat sank in pearled humidity with long tendrils…odd for London. Jane was in the library, and the air was electric with dread and noiseless anticipation.

"They say Churchill doesn't give a damn…he will stand up to Hitler no matter what."

"I say bravo. We won't be pushed around by some great German bully. I don't care what happened twenty years ago…"

Jane slid out of her chair with her book, "A Passage to India," tucked under her arm. She didn't want to think about any impending war. It was bad enough that the world was collapsing around her, but to acknowledge it outright…well. It really was just too much to bear.

It did no good to dwell, anyway. Things would happen with or without her approval.

She smiled at the librarian as she checked out her book.

"Keep close to home, dear…they say that Hitler is on the move."

Jane nodded and left in a hurry. Her head was down as she made her way back to her flat.

She decided to stop by the bake shop for some bread; Jane was having soup that evening. Her mum had taught her how to make a nice potato soup, and she rather thought that the bread would be a nice addition to her meal. She went in to the sound of ding at the door.

"Afternoon, lovely. Heard about the bombers, then? They are on their way, I hear," and the baker's eyes went to the large shop windows, peering out into the street, as though the planes were already overhead, unheard.

"Yeah. It's all the talk," replied Jane.

"Well. What do you think of it? You seem awfully calm," and he looked at her with concern.

"I think that war is silly. I think that there are better ways to satisfy arguments. I think that if I were in charge of England, I'd tell Germany to piss off," and she handed the baker a crown for the bread.

The keep didn't respond, so Jane left.

Absurd war. And she looked about the street full of people slipping on the stones as their eyes looked worriedly at the sky.

It was incredible that people weren't running into one another.

Jane went to her flat to see to the soup.

She turned on the radio, when all she could hear were people talking about the bombings a few weeks previous in London, and the subsequent retaliation of Churchill.

Berlin would not be subdued.

Jane sighed and ladled the soup into a bowl, cut the bread, and sat at her table. The curtains needed mending…and she found herself thinking of her mum as she played with the tattered material hanging in front of her window. Her mum was a strong woman. Her mum was determined…

And Jane had forsaken her dream of university to care for an ill father who had passed just a few months previous. She should revisit her dream of a degree in science…though a female scientist was not something she thought that the world was quite ready for.

Jane shrugged, finished her soup, and went to read her Forester.

"Life never gives us what we want at the moment that we consider appropriate."

Her eyes fixed on that particular sentence for a good long while.

She sighed…

…and as she exhaled, the hum was heard approaching…the sound of the sirens issuing their warning…

But it was dark, they wouldn't dare…

Yet they did, and Jane's house holding her flat shook when the bomb hit.

She ran to her window draped by the flimsy curtain, and she looked out onto the street. People were everywhere…they were panicking…

"Get to the underground! To the underground!"

She grabbed some things she thought might be of use, and a sweater despite the warmth. Jane ran out of the flat as another bomb hit, and it pierced her ears and rattled her brain. Damn them. She couldn't believe that they would be so ruthless as this. But they were. They were, and the newly descended night held the horror of death in its wake.

Jane tripped a bit as she made her way down the stairs…

"Watch where you're going," said a male voice, smooth.

"Sorry," she replied…

And as she did so, the staircase fell in, and Jane felt a hand on her arm pulling her.

Dust was everywhere. She was coughing…where was that man…?

Jane looked around in a hurry. There…he was rising off the debris laden floor.

"Oh my god…are you alright?" she said, going over to him.

"I am," said the man.

He rose from the floor, brushing himself off. He was tall, with black hair and sharp features.

"No good in standing about," he observed. "Best…" but he never finished, for another bomb hit, probably only a couple of streets away. "We need to get to the basement!" he yelled. "We'll never get out in time!" she could barely hear him from the sound of the screaming sirens muffling his voice. He took her hand and led her downstairs.

The basement was dark, and it shook from the force of the Blitzkrieg above.

There were bits of light peeling through the smallish windows, illuminating the dust falling from the ceiling as the structure rocked from the assault.

Jane was breathing was labored. It was suffocating in the basement with the dust and the humidity affixing the dust to the air like glue. "Will we be safe here?" she managed.

"No idea," and he peered out of the window.

Jane sat on the floor, putting her belongings next to her. "Well. I suppose we are here for the night," and her head fell back onto the basement wall.

The man turned toward her. "I'm Loki."

"Jane."

"I know," and he smiled.

Her eyes squinted. "What do you mean, you know?"

"I live in the flat under you. I've watched you for a while now…"

"Ah…"

"Sorry," and he sat across from her. "That must sound rather…odd. I only meant that we are two of three people in this building, so of course I know who you are."

"Oh," Jane replied. She didn't mention that she had no idea who he was. "Have you lived here long?"

"About two months. You?"

"Erm…four, I think."

Loki nodded. He fiddled with the hem of his shirt.

…..

He had been watching her. He was transfixed and bewitched by her. He couldn't explain it. He had seen her walking one day a few months ago from the library, and decided to follow her. It was as though she held a secret for him, and only for him. He wanted so badly to talk to her, but the opportunity never presented itself.

And then he began dreaming of her.

It was at least three hundred years ago…in Ireland…and he was a Prince or something…and this woman, she was his love…

It made no sense, but there it was. Loki had never been to Ireland. It was preposterous that he should dream of it.

He swallowed and looked at Jane. She had a puzzled look on her countenance. "Are you alright?"

"Fine," he quickly supplied. My god, she was lovely. "Just…ah…warm in here."

"It is," and Jane began to take off her sweater and unbutton a few buttons of her blouse. "It's going to be a long night."

Loki looked away.

It certainly was.

….

"So that's pretty much it," Jane finished. She had spoken of her childhood, the deaths of her parents…Loki had barely said a word.

He was looking at her, though, and his gaze made her shift.

The bombing was their only companion…and then one hit hard, and she jumped. "Shit," she exclaimed, rubbing her face with her hands.

"It's alright, Jane," and he came closer to her.

"It isn't though! We are as good as dead."

He sighed, rubbing circles on her back.

Jane wasn't a virgin, but she had only had sex with one other man. Granted, they had had a lot of sex; she had dated him, and nearly married him when he went to France to see his grandmother. He never came back.

Jane guessed the war had taken him.

She looked at Loki.

He was handsome.

His gaze intense.

"Jane…" he whispered.

She swallowed…

And suddenly, nothing mattered. Nothing was real…the bombs outside suddenly ceased their incessant falling.

He kissed her, his hand wrapping around the back of her head…

And she returned it, placing her palm on his chest.

He deepened it quickly and pulled her on top of him. "Jane…" he whispered. "Can I…can we…?"

His hands were already on her breasts, and he was slipping his hands under her shirt.

Jane felt torn…but the bombs…the heat…his gaze…and she sat back, rocking a bit on his erection.

Loki moaned and tore her shirt off, ripped at her bra, and seized her nipple in his mouth…teeth, tongue, fingers…and Jane cried her pleasure, wanting more.

Loki's hands made their way down her, to her bottom, and wrapped around, he took both hands and massaged her hips, while his tongue traced up her neck. He was grateful for her skirt, for he only had her underwear to contend with…and off they went in a mad rush. Jane cried out as he found her sex, massaging her clitoris, inserting his long finger inside…"Loki…" she breathed. "I…"

"Don't say a word, Jane…" and he eased her onto the floor. "I will worship you…here, at the end of all things."

He extracted his finger and placed his hands on either side of her. His mouth made his way down until he reached her center. Jane's back arched as she cried…his tongue roving about in a mad dance of passion. Jane ground against it…the bombs shrieked…people could be heard screaming…but Jane felt only Loki as she reached her climax.

He rose up and slid inside of her. He moved slowly at first…but his rhythm quickened, pumping over and over…Jane could do anything but allow it…

And as he came close, she closed her eyes…she hadn't to this point, wanting to relish it all as she believed that they were about to die.

…she saw a green, lush meadow…and a forest along the periphery…she was standing next to a large oak…and he was next to her…she turned…"Loki," she said, smiling. He took her waist, and guided her to the tree, her back against it…Loki kissed her, and lifted her body into a wrap around him…Jane felt his arousal inside of her and she screamed…

…she screamed. "Loki!" as he came.

"Jane," and he collapsed on top of her. "Did you see it?"

Her eyes were wide…she didn't need to answer…

"We are one," he said. "You are mine."