Author's note: Thanks for the feedback. And minor apologies for my penchant for unusual Gaelic names. :) Grainne is pronounced "Gron-yuh" (probably the closest I can get without looking up the proper phonetics).
Disclaimer: Loki is, sadly, not mine. This incarnation of him sort of is, but also owes a lot to interviews I've seen with Tom Hiddleston talking about his thoughts on the depth of the character.
Grainne flopped onto one of the threadbare couches the hostel provided for guests and sighed. She'd organised a night's lodging for their new friend, which had been made easier by the fact that they were in a room with four bunks and the fourth was empty. Now she had some serious thinking to do.
Loki. She savoured the taste of the name in her mind. Why had she been so sure they should keep him with them? Well, there was the obvious fact that he was lost and alone and had looked so upset about the gaps in his memory. She never could resist reaching out to someone in distress. But it would have been enough to simply guide him back to town and turn him loose. Or turn him over to the police perhaps. Or a hospital. Her mouth twisted in distaste. None of those ideas sat well with her.
There was his name, of course. She'd always been interested in mythology and history, so the name was a familiar one. The Trickster God of the Norse pantheon. Always the most interesting part of any pantheon, she felt. So perhaps there was a certain predisposition on her part to like him. But there was something else, she was sure of it. Something had pulled at her...
"So, you've rescued your lost soul, and Greg's getting him cleaned up." Liz plopped down beside her, breaking her train of thought. She gave the taller woman a wry smile and received a grin in return. "You want to tell me what prompted this? I know you better than to assume it's just because he's hot."
Grainne laughed. "True, that's never been my style. And I've just been trying to figure the answer to that out myself. There's something about him... Something in the eyes, maybe? Not sure. It just felt like the right thing to do." She ran her hands through her hair distractedly. "And I want to know more about him. He intrigues me."
Liz shrugged. "Sounds like he wants to know more about him too. You might have your work cut out for you."
"Ah well. Life's no fun if it's too easy." She thought for a moment, then asked, "What were you saying before about speech memory and motor skills and all that?"
"The way I understand it, there's three types of memory." Liz held up one finger. "There's speech and vocabulary memory... language memory is probably a better way of describing it." She held up a second finger. "There's the memory of learned motor skills: walking, writing, swimming, eating with a knife and fork, all that sort of thing." She held up a third finger. "Lastly, there's memory of events and places and people. Personal memories. It's possible, in fact it's common, for amnesia not to affect all of them, and that last one is the most commonly lost."
"Thank you Doctor Liz."
Liz grinned at her conspiratorially. "Actually, I got that from an episode of Castle," she admitted.
They were still laughing when Greg and Loki returned. The latter was now dressed in borrowed jeans and T-shirt, and he looked... Grainne ran an appraising eye over him. He looked really, really good. Liz was right: he was hot. Her gaze lingered on his face. Shoulder-length dark hair swept back from a high forehead, curling slightly at the tips. A long face with hollow cheeks. Intense blue-green eyes. Deep creases around eyes and mouth that suggested an expressive face and a passionate nature. As she met his eyes, she realised two things.
The first was that he was, in fact, one of the most heart-stoppingly beautiful men she'd ever seen. The second was that, now that he didn't look so haunted, she recognised him. She'd seen his picture in the news not that long ago, when there was all of that mess in New York with the alien invasion. So when he said he was Loki... well, she was pretty sure he was more than just a man with an interesting name. But why was he here?
Hang on, hadn't he disappeared along with his brother and that energy cube after the battle? Since he'd lost, there was a fairly good chance he hadn't gone willingly. Could this be a form of punishment? It certainly made sense from a mythological point of view. That sort of thing happened all the time in the old stories. But in real life? It was the best explanation she could come up with for now, though. It was also something she intended to keep to herself. If Greg and Liz made the connection themselves, well and good, but she wasn't prepared to share her suspicions yet. If nothing else, she'd look like a fool if she turned out to be wrong.
Realising she was staring, she smiled at him and was rewarded with an answering smile. Oh gods, there was a smile that spelled trouble! It was also a smile that pushed all of the right buttons as far as she was concerned, which wasn't good. He needed help, not to be seduced!
As the two men sat on the opposite couch, she said, "You're cool to bunk in with us tonight, Loki. I'll even let you have the choice of top or bottom bunk." Greg and Liz both laughed, and Loki smiled uncertainly. Since Greg was also looking at her a little too knowingly, she hurried on, "And then tomorrow, you can run amok in a clothing store or two before we all head off. See if there are any styles that strike your fancy or bring back anything, that sort of thing."
"You're all being very kind to me," Loki said. His voice was soft, his eyes guarded. "Why?"
Beside him, Greg shrugged. "Because?" Receiving a flat glare in response, he grinned. "No, I'm serious. You could do with some help. We can help, so we will. Besides, we've been on the road for a while now. A change of pace keeps things fresh. Keeps us from getting bored."
"And you're cute," Liz added frankly. "That doesn't hurt either." Loki blinked in surprise and Grainne elbowed her friend in the ribs.
"Not exactly subtle, sis," she muttered. Shaking her head, she was relieved to see that Loki hadn't taken offence but was looking at the two of them with amusement, much like her dear brother. She could almost hear Greg's thoughts: I think I know what you two have been talking about while we were gone! Hoping she wasn't blushing, she asked, "You do want to come along with us, right Loki? I mean, we've all been assuming... but I don't think we actually asked you."
Giving her another one of those melting smiles, Loki replied, "I would like that, yes. Very much, I think. My thanks to all of you." He glanced around the group curiously. "You said you were 'on the road'? What is it that you do?"
"Sing for our supper," Greg replied promptly. "We're musicians, and we're bored, so we decided to take a couple of months and travel around playing in pubs and clubs and at festivals if we're lucky enough to catch any." He hesitated, then asked, "Do you... err... know where we are?" Loki shook his head, that troubled look back in his eyes. His couch-mate patted him on the shoulder. "Don't stress too much. You're in Northern England. Lake District, to be precise. We're looking at going up around the coast of Scotland and then across to Ireland. By then we'll probably be sick of travelling, so it's back to London, where we live."
Loki nodded slowly, but it was obvious from his expression that the place names weren't meaning much to him. She leaned forward and gave the hand resting on his knee a sympathetic squeeze. "It'll all make sense eventually," she assured him. "And until it does, just relax and go with the flow. You're among friends now."
