(author's note: takes place after Thor 1… a pay her a visit, if the reader likes...it's been done many times over. Here is my small contribution to the library. A three shot. Probably.)
White fell upon Asgard in soft overlay.
The atmosphere was thick with color, the air full of fragrant sweetness.
Spring kissed her cheek, the most lovely of the seasons in the Realm.
…and Jane Foster was in her chambers, utterly bemused at her current position. She was standing on the high balcony, watching small insects sip the honey of the resplendent blooms low beneath her. She smiled.
How had she arrived thus?
A strange tale, to be sure…
Ten months previous…
New Mexico, one would never think, could be a place of desolation. But there it was, and Jane was such. She had gone through the various stages of loss…
Denial, when she wouldn't accept that he wasn't coming back, and she insisted on finding him herself.
Anger, when she nearly destroyed her lab in passion.
Bargaining, when she pleaded with S.H.E.I.L.D. to return her things, for they were the key to finding him.
Depression, when she refused to leave first her lab, and then her trailer, not really eating, barely sleeping…
Acceptance, and that is where we join her now, on the precipice of accepting that Thor Odinson would not be coming back to Earth.
She had a poor color about her as she shielded her eyes from the oppressive sun. Where were her sunglasses, anyway?
She turned to go back inside to obtain the slippery things, when a dark figure caught her eye. She squinted against the ball of fire insisting its presence in the sky, her temples threatening a headache, and she wondered if she had any Advil in her medicine cabinet.
The figure was tiny in the distance.
It seemed to be moving slowly toward her.
Fear overtook her, for she had been in such a state for so long, that no other emotion was really acceptable to her fragile mind. She went back into the trailer and found her glasses, poured some water, and rummaged for the medicine.
When was the last time she ate?
That was not a promising thought, so she found some stale pretzels to make the water less wretched (perhaps a coke at Isabel's later would do her right), and stuffed them in her mouth.
Jane sat down, deciding not to think about the figure, and opened a newspaper which was over two weeks old.
News. Though all of it was old now, it was news to her.
New.
She needed new.
And the door swung open, smashing against the other chair at the table.
Jane jumped from the table, knocking her own chair over, panting, eyes wide. "What the hell?" she screamed. In her doorway stood a tall, dark, and as she looked a bit closer, injured, man. "Who are you?" she whispered, for he was wearing armor…
The man regarded her for a moment, then took hold of the table, shaking a bit. "Water," he muttered.
Jane swallowed, but went to obtain some refreshment for the pale stranger. She handed him the glass, and he gulped down hungrily. "Who are you?" she repeated.
His eyes slowly rose to meet hers; he appeared to be considering her. "I am called Loki."
Realization fell upon her, and she backed away. "Thor's brother?"
He stood erect now, and nodded, though a shadow passed across his visage.
Jane's hand flew to her chest, and looked around to determine the best escape route.
"Do not fear, Jane Foster. I mean you no harm. In fact, I couldn't inflict injury even if I desired it," and he stumbled into the chair clumsily.
"What's wrong with you?" a hint of indignation peppering her inquiry.
"I fell," he returned.
"Fell?"
"Aye. Not unlike…Thor did."
Jane's face softened a touch. He didn't appear to be malicious…at least, not at present. He seemed broken.
He destroyed her town, her mind insisted.
But, he might be able to take her to Thor…
Her hand fell to her side. Well. This was a quandary. Just how ethical was she…? "Are you hurt?"
He looked at her, anger brimming. "What do you think, my lady? I fell from the highest Realm to this wretched place. Though I am immortal, I am not able to escape injury."
Jane sighed and nodded. Two Asgardian Princes to have literally fallen into her presence in the past two months. Crazy. "So…what hurts?"
"I could sooner extrapolate on the virtues of this Realm," he spat.
Jane rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "If you're gonna be a big baby…"
He glared at her.
She swallowed and stopped. It's better, probably, to not irritate the injured, dangerous god of mischief.
"Come on. I'll get you a place to lay down," she sighed and went to the back of the trailer, obtaining extra bedding.
She made her bed up, and when she looked up once more, Loki was standing in her doorway. He didn't say anything, but kept his gaze locked on her face.
It was unsettling.
Jane looked away, brushed aside him and went outside.
She wanted Loki to leave…it was creepy having him here. She started a fire and wondered how long she would need to play nursemaid to the fallen god.
Three days he remained in bed; three days, and Jane hadn't slept much herself.
On the fourth day, he rose and joined her at the fire. "Thank you," he muttered, standing, not sitting by the fire pit.
"It's fine," she replied. She looked at him. "Are you gonna sit?"
He shrugged, and sat. "I won't be here much longer, Jane Foster."
"Can you just call me Jane? I'm not that formal."
He looked at her crookedly, and nodded. "Well, Jane. You have seen me at a most unfortunate time. I am certainly not myself."
"Neither am I."
"No?"
"No…I haven't been since your brother left," and her gaze fell to the fire.
"My brother," he said to no one.
Jane wrapped her arms around her. "Yeah. Did he…did he mention me? Did you see him?"
"He did."
That lightened her a bit. "Why did you send that robot thing?"
"Why?" he smirked. "Why, indeed. Well…" he sat back now, looking at her fully. "Many reasons, I imagine."
"Such as?"
"I'm not in the habit of answering the demands of mortals."
"And I'm not in the habit of playing nurse to random gods who try to destroy my home."
"Touche, Jane," he laughed.
She smiled.
Why wasn't she more upset at this?
Because, she thought, because she had suffered independent of any horror and destruction the robot had caused, and she saw Loki as the ticket to her reprieve. "So…why did you fall?"
Why, not how. Why, not who…she wanted to know why. "Well…I fell because…" because I let go…no. Because Odin lied. "Because I was no longer wanted in Asgard."
"No? Can't imagine why," she smirked.
He cocked a brow. "Tread lightly, Jane Foster."
She shrugged. "Hungry?"
"Not especially. I have internal injuries my magic is still working on healing properly."
"Wow."
"Is that shocking to you?"
Jane laughed. "Well, around here, we don't usually have people talking about internal injuries being healed with magic."
"How benighted of your race."
"Benighted?" Jane repeated.
"Indeed, yes…"
"I mean…I'm as smart as the next person, but what does benighted mean?"
Loki looked at her, and conjured a dictionary, then handed it to her.
"Asshole," she muttered, as she turned to the "B's."