"If I know what love is, it is because of you." — Herman Hesse

Though Cupid is not such, in the traditional image, a cherub-like babe wielding a bow, he exists, and he does possess such a weapon. A weapon which can inflict deadly harm.

Harm, such as no man nor woman can resist. Nor god, apparently.

For Loki, god of mischief, lie-smith and silver tongue, had made a promise to himself after he fought Thor on the Rainbow Bridge; that is, that he would pay Jane Foster a visit.

Fortunately for him, his suicide wish was halted abruptly by Odin's hand.

This did not deter him in the least for seeking her out. Indeed, if anything, it heightened his resolve, made it potent.

He would ask Cupid, that insolent messenger of coitus, to pierce Jane Foster's heart…and then he would appear to her, she would love him, and he would have his revenge on his arrogant brother.

He marched along Asgard's palace with all its grand halls, his footfalls echoing in the chamber. Loki was muttering to himself, determined to find him out. That bald, fatuous, insipid…

"Well, Prince Loki. You are marching along with purpose."

And Loki whirled around to find said bald man smiling at him irritatingly. "I am, Cupid. I always have purpose," he replied. "In fact," he cooed, "I was looking for you."

"Is that so?" Cupid smiled brazenly.

"It is," and Loki looked him over. "Aren't you ever cold? You hardly wear any vestments at all."

"Love keeps me warm."

"Disgusting," and Loki rolled his eyes. "I require a service of you, my man."

Cupid raised his light brows in question.

"I need you to pierce a lady."

And he laughed. "My Prince, if you are unable to pierce a lady, you require more than my help."

"Cease your innuendo! You know what I speak of…your arrow…her heart."

And the bald deliverer of love looked at him crookedly. "You are known for your silver tongue, Prince. Surely you can…"

"She is mortal. And of Midgard. They take exceedingly long to find their heart. I do not posses time nor inclination to wait for her to bend…therefore, your arrow is desirable," and Loki raised his chin, expecting assent.

"Hmm," replied he, and he turned from him. "A mortal? They are most susceptible to my sting. I don't think that it is wise to interfere with their race. Best not, no."

Loki went to him and took his arm. "You will obey your Prince, or face the consequences of your insubordination."

But Cupid laughed mirthfully. "Midgard is a delightful place, Prince Loki. I think you will find it well to your liking."

"Excuse me?" Loki couldn't believe it.

"In fact, I'd venture to say that you will enjoy it more than even Thor."

"What in the name of Valhalla are you talking about?"

"Midgard…"

"Your point…?" he hissed.

"That mortals are unknowable, protean, and raw. They do not know themselves, nor do they like themselves. They seek out love, then run when they have it. Good luck, Loki. I do not envy you," and Cupid turned and left him there in the hall.

Fine. I'll do it myself, thought Loki.

And he prepared to leave for Midgard.

Valentine's Day was never something that Jane Foster paid much attention to. She thought it a silly holiday.

And she hated pink.

Red, well…that was nice. And chocolate…she loved chocolate…

But flowers were ill-suited for the desert heat, and so she readied herself for her day in the lab. She thought about Thor, and she smiled.

Yeah, she missed him. But she could get on fine without him, too. She didn't need anyone.

Jane left and walked to her lab, swinging her arms and smiling to herself. She would need to stop somewhere for lunch, she hadn't the inclination to pack any pop tarts (despite her affinity for chocolate).

"Are you always so cheerful whilst sauntering in this desert air?" came a voice behind her, British in accent.

Jane turned. "I am. I'm a happy person, generally," she squinted in the glare, but smiled at him.

He approached her, allowing her a better, more complete view. He was tall, he had raven hair, a bit long-ish, sharp features…

"I admire your jocund temperament, though I find it baffling nonetheless…this heat would surely melt any cheer."

Jane's smile grew. He was well-spoken, if not a touch archaic, and handsome. "Maybe if you weren't in all black, you wouldn't feel the heat so fiercely."

"Perhaps," he returned, and they walked together.

That night, Jane thought about the black-clad stranger, he called himself "Fenrir," and she wondered at him.

And was pleased that she wasn't taken with Valentine's Day idiocy.

And Loki was pleased in his chambers at his effort…she seemed well enough enticed.

"How can you say that?" Jane insisted, seated as she was two nights later by the fire outside of her trailer.

Fenrir was there, and they were discussing the universe. "Quite easily, Jane. Observe," and he pointed to the sky above. "Thor wasn't wrong. But he was limited in his scope," his hand fell and he turned toward her. "The cosmos contain multitudes…but Yggdrasil is only one tree in many many forms of life. How many she has, one can only speculate."

"He was convincing enough," muttered Jane.

"Of course he was," Fenrir returned.

"Are you a scientist?"

He smiled. "I am not…I am a traveller."

"A traveler," she smirked.

"Aye. Yes," he paused. "Why? Do you not believe me to be sincere?" he looked at her with a hurt expression, but it was playful nonetheless.

"Mmhmm. Just how far and wide do you travel?"

"Fair enough," and he tossed a stick into the fire. "And wide enough as well."

"Fenrir?"

"Yes?"

"Bullshit."

Loki laughed.

3 3 3 3

And Cupid lingered in the shadows of the Palace, watching Loki's stride…bit more uneven, bit more tense…

"How is your project, Prince?"

"What?" he spat; he had been gazing into the sky in the garden, hands folded behind him.

And Cupid smirked.

Jane was playing with her coffee cup. She played with it, and thought about Thor. And then, she thought about Fenrir…

Jane Foster wasn't a fool. She was quite bright.

She didn't like being played.

When Loki went back to Midgard a few days later, he found a sour Jane.

"Who are you, Fenrir?"

"Why do you ask me questions you already know the answer to? You mustn't be a very good scientist."

"You're from Asgard," she accused. "And I'm an excellent scientist."

Loki stopped and looked at her a moment. He nodded, but said nothing.

"How's Thor?" she whispered.

And though he internally scowled, he answered as well as he could without inflicting injury upon her for bringing his brother up.

"So, when you're not traveling the Tree, and you're not studying in the library in the palace, what are you doing?" Jane asked after dinner that night.

"I am living life Jane, much the way you do."

She laughed. "No…there's something to you. Something else."

"Whatever are you talking about?" he innocently asked.

She blushed a second, then looked away. "You are more complex than you let on. There's a lot going on behind your eyes."

"I cannot fathom what you mean," he sat back in the chair by the fire. He should conjure more comfortable chairs. These were dreadful.

She shrugged, and handed him a beer. "Dunno. I can't explain it…and that is something, coming from me. But there is definitely something else to you," she chugged the beer, and they talked almost until dawn.

"He won't come out, Odin. I am worried about him," Thor was speaking with the All-Father.

"Such is his way, son. Loki is taciturn. He often locks himself away for days on end."

"No…this is different," and the thunderer ran a massive hand through his hair. "I saw him just before he went into his chambers. He appeared to be…" Thor looked at Odin with purpose. "Sad."

"Sad, you say?" this he hadn't counted on.

"That's right. Perhaps mother should…"

"I'll speak with him," and he stood.

"Father, do you think that wise?"

"It'll be fine," Odin left the chamber, his great cloak brushing the floor impressively in his wake.

"Open the door, Loki!" The All-Father banged on the door to his adopted son's chambers.

No answer.

"I said…!"

"Excuse me, Odin?" came a voice.

He turned, and saw none other than Cupid with his bow at the ready. "What…?"

"I believe I know what is Loki's ailment," Cupid offered with a smile.

"Of course it is," he said. "But does the maid reciprocate?"

"I believe so…but it is Loki who needs convincing, Father. He refuses to admit to such a weakness as this."

"Mmmm…" Odin looked at the door. "When I call…" he raised his eyebrows at the balding, barely dressed man of love.

And Cupid nodding, disappeared.

Odin waved his hand, and the door disappeared.

He saw his son in front of his fire, slumped in a great chair, staring at nothing. "Generally speaking, when a door is shut, and the room's inhabitants do not answer a knock, it means that they do not wish to be disturbed," Loki said, not looking at Odin.

"Loki. What is this business about? Thor is worried about you," the great god entered the room.

"Damn Thor," he muttered.

"He is concerned. And what do you do…? You sit idly…"

"I sit!" Loki's eyes flashed his wrath. "Because I cannot find it in me to do anything else!"

"Is she beautiful?" Odin sat opposite his son.

Loki stared at him a moment, swallowed, then nodded.

"And is she wise?"

"If you mean does she know my heart, then no."

"Go to her," he simply said.

"I cannot," and his gaze fell to his hands.

"Why?"

"Because she…" Loki looked into the hearth. "…her heart belongs to someone else."

"Surely you, with your wit and your mind, your stature and such…" Odin was smiling.

He glared at his father…false though he was. "Nay, father. It matters not what pretty pictures you paint of me…for the maid loves your more worthy son," he sneered. "And now what have you to say?"

"The mortal…?" he asked, for he could not believe it.

"Aye. The mortal."

Odin sat disbelieving. "Loki. If you love her…"

"I never said that."

"No matter…if you care for this mortal, you should go to her," and he slyly looked to his side, nodding discreetly.

"You would have me take Thor's woman?"

"She is not Thor's woman," Odin said. "And he is…well. He is Thor, and you are you…and if there is someone whom you care for, you should not sit by an empty hearth and wait for it to burn."

He rose.

He turned.

And Loki cried out. "What…?!" and as Odin turned to look upon him, he was already asleep.

Odin left, and the door reappeared, along with the balding warrior.

"How long will he sleep?"

"A day or so," replied Cupid.

Odin nodded. "It's for the best. Thor can pursue Sif if need be. Loki…he is so much more difficult…" he paused. "Go watch Jane Foster, will you? Make certain that she reciprocates."

"And if she doesn't?"

He became thoughtful a moment. "Do nothing. The sting you just gave Loki should be enough to do the job."

And winged Cupid left for Midgard.

Two days she spent wondering where Fenrir was at.

Two nights she spent wondering if he was thinking about her.

And on the third night, he showed…

…in soft light, just outside her trailer.

"Good evening, Jane," he said.

"Hey," she replied.

Fenrir kicked at the sand with a massive black boot. He cleared his throat. And Jane thought that he appeared to be different…something more impressive about him, yet something else as well…"I suppose that I should first tell you that my name is Loki."

She was in front of him now. "Loki…" and then it hit her. The Destroyer…Thor's brother.

"I see the comprehension in your face."

Her eyes narrowed. "You…!"

"Me."

"What do you want with me?"

"Well…I thought I knew the answer to that, but now I'm not so certain."

"I still don't…"

"Jane," he took her hands in his.

She looked at their hands, then up at him.

"Do you care for me at all? or does your heart belong to Thor?"

"I…" did she? "But you aren't you!" and her hands were wrenched from his.

"I'm still me, Jane. Only my name is different."

"Only your name! But your name! That's everything…!" and then she felt it. A pinch in her side…a soft pierce. "Ow!" and her hand went to her side…

"Jane?"

But she collapsed into his arms.

And Loki carried her to her trailer…he laid her in her bed, touched her cheek. "If I know what love is, it is because of you," he said softly.

"Sometimes, my Lord, they only need a push," Cupid was watching with Odin at Heimdall's station.

"Aye. A bit, I suppose. Good thing for it, too. I couldn't bear another thousand years with a surly Loki."

Odin left the place, and Cupid looked at Heimdall. "You disapprove?"

"It matters not how I see things, only that I see."

"Well, I suppose that there is something to that. But I'll content myself with my bow. A bit of love in a sour world can yield only good," and Cupid smiled sweetly, and disappeared.