Jane's POV

I can't say for certain how long I've been in this cell for. Due to the lack of windows, I have no access at all to the outside world; I have no idea whether it's day or night, when the sun rose or when it set. But then again, I'm assuming that the length of days on this planet is identical to that of Earth's. It's always possible that this planet takes a longer or shorter amount of time to rotate on its axis, which would mean that the number of days that have passed while I've been here would give me no clear indication of how many days have passed on Earth. I still wish I could look outside, though. I'm not claustrophobic, but being trapped in this dark, enclosed space is really starting to get to me.

I've been trying to calculate how much time has passed based on how often I've felt the need to sleep. I don't take naps during the daytime - I only sleep at night - and I've slept three times since Loki walked out of that doorway, so that would make it roughly three days. It's by no means the most accurate way to calculate the passage of time, but it's the best I can do. It certainly feels like several days have passed. When I've been awake, I've had to tolerate these long stretches of time – which are boring almost to the point of being unbearable – where I've literally had nothing else to do but stare through the bars into the corridor or pace up and down the cell like a caged animal. Those periods of time seem to last an eternity. Of course, it's equally possible that time just seems to be dragging simply because I don't have enough to do. Boredom always affects your perception of time. What's more, it may be the case that I'm sleeping more frequently than I usually do without realising it. I've had nothing to eat or drink since the feast, so the lack of food and water must be making me weaker, more easily exhausted...

As if on cue, my stomach rumbles loudly. Reaching down, I rest my hands on top of it, as if the act of me touching it will magically cause it to settle down. I brush my fingertips over the skin, shocked by how flat my belly has become. Its usual curve has vanished, leaving only an even plane of flesh in its place. It feels like I'm examining the small of someone's back. My stomach growls yet again and I glance over to the tray, which I've left in the light of the doorway. There is no doubt in my mind that the goblet contains poison – after all, if there were nothing wrong with it, why would Loki refuse to taste it? However, he did taste the bread, so perhaps that's safe to eat? Despite the fact that my stomach's rumbling, I don't actually feel terribly hungry – I'd kill for a glass of water, though. But if I do have something to eat, at least it'll provide me with a short distraction, something to help pass the time. And even though it's a tiny snack rather than a decent meal, at least it would help me gain a little more weight.

Stepping away from the wall which I've been leaning against, I stride over to the doorway and lift the bread off the tray. It's in a long, roll-like shape, similar in style to a baguette, but still not quite the same thing. I locate the end which Loki tore a piece off and decide to start there, just to be on the safe side. My mouth starts to water slightly as I lean in and take a bite. AH! Oh, YUK! I retch in disgust as the bread lands on my tongue, the taste of it filling my mouth. It's unbelievably salty – it tastes even worse than those fat-soaked French fries you get at low-budget diners. And in my current dehydrated state the last thing I need is the taste of salt on my tongue. I lurch forwards and spit it out, but even after the bread's left my mouth its salty aftertaste continues to linger. I grind my teeth over the surface of my tongue and then open my mouth wide and wipe the back of my hand over it, but it's no good. I can still taste it and its making me thirstier than ever.

Oh Loki, you clever, clever bastard. What better way to ensure that I drink the poison? Not content with depriving me of anything else to drink, you also attempt to feed me the saltiest food possible, just to add to my discomfort. Well, I hate to disappoint you, but it's not going to work. I've watched enough documentaries about espionage and suicide pills to know what happens to someone after they ingest poison: the pain that can last for hours on end, the sensation of your internal organs burning, the whole pretty picture. And there's no way I'm going to endure that. If my choices are restricted to drinking the poison or dying of thirst, I'll take the latter. You'll win either way, but I'd like to believe that if I choose the second option, I'll go more peacefully.

My eyes start to brim with tears as the realisation that I may soon be facing death finally starts to sink in. This wasn't the way I wanted to go: wasting away in the cold and the dark, separated from everyone I love. No, stop it, Jane, stop it! I can't think like this! I've got to be brave – that's what Thor would do if he were in my shoes. And he's going to find me in time, I know it. He won't let me down.

I brush the tears away from my eyes, slightly ashamed of myself for giving up hope so quickly. I should have more faith in Thor. He'll see through that doppelganger and he'll come looking for me. In fact, he probably already is. In the meantime, all I can do is wait for him and refuse to give in to Loki's demands. It's not the most dynamic plan of action, but it's a plan nonetheless.

I smile to myself, feeling a little more positive. Placing the bread back on the plate, I then push the tray off into the corner, freeing up some space so I can lie down and look out of the doorway. After settling down on my side and making myself as comfortable as I can on the worn stone floor, I stare through the bars of the door into the corridor outside and I think about all the wine and delicious meals I'll treat myself to as soon as I get out of this place. However, I must be more tired than I previously thought, because I can feel my eyelids beginning to grow heavy and slowly, as if by their own will, they start to close…

Loki's POV

I knew it was probable that someone at some point would discover my true identity and I had my suspicions as to who that person would be. Thor seemed the most likely candidate, as he is now the only surviving member of Odin's family (a category which I certainly don't include myself in) and is therefore familiar with the old man's moods, mannerisms and so on. Although I too was raised by Odin (and what a misfortune that was!) and am therefore equally knowledgeable about the nature of his character, I was conscious of the risk that I may one day make some sort of slip-up in front of Thor, some sort of mistake which would lead him to believe that something was amiss. Or perhaps it would be one of the warriors – Lady Sif, for instance, whose close relationship with my mother brought her into fairly regular contact with Odin. But Jane Foster? I must confess that was something I did not anticipate at all. After all, she barely knew Odin – if it had not been for that ill-fated visit to my new bedchambers we would not even be in this current situation.

On our first meeting I found her to be not entirely unlikable - she was courageous, attractive and reasonably intelligent for a Midgardian. I must admit I was rather impressed when she struck me with her fist; spirited women have always appealed to me and the fact that such a blow had been dealt not by an Asgardian but by a puny Midgardian made it all the more remarkable. However, now that this woman has interfered with my plans and demonstrated a singularly gifted ability in destroying my mother's possessions it is fair to say that my opinion of her has significantly lowered. Whatever may have happened between us in the past – namely, when I saved her life on the battlefield – will offer her no protection now. I will deal with her in exactly the same way as I would have dealt with anyone else.

As I descend the stairs into the dungeon in order to check on my prisoner's condition, I reflect on how effectively I have managed to contain this little mishap. So far all my arrangements have gone as smoothly as I had hoped; Thor clearly believes the doppelganger to be his real lover and it appears I have succeeded in convincing Jane that she is marooned on some distant planet. If only that gullible woman knew the truth! Fortunately, I have only encountered two obstacles in the execution of my plans, the first being Jane's belief that I have murdered Odin. She did not say as much, but I could tell by her general manner that she was not convinced by my story. Granted, that story wasn't true, but neither is it true that I killed him. However, that is of little consequence, as she won't be given the opportunity to share her impressions with anyone else. No, the most problematic obstacle of the two is undoubtedly the second, namely, Jane's ridiculous notion that I have poisoned her drink. Perhaps that's indicative of my brother's influence over her; during their time together he has probably done all he can to persuade her that I am some monstrous villain, no better than Malekith. Small wonder, then, that she always expects the worst of me. But I am confident that this little problem has already been resolved. After all, I have left her for several days with nothing else to quench her thirst; by now she must have succumbed to her need to drink.

When I finally reach her cell, I quickly conjure another illumination spell and send it flying through the bars before I unlock the door and step inside. Jane is curled up on the floor in front of me, facing the doorway and seemingly in the depths of sleep. The tray is lying in the far corner of the cell – I can see from where I am currently standing that she has hardly touched the bread, but the distance is still too great for me to determine whether or not she has consumed the contents of the goblet. I draw closer to the tray in order to inspect it and growl in disappointment when I see that the goblet is still filled to the brim. This woman has been left with nothing else to drink for three days. Three days! She truly is as stubborn as my brother – what a perfect match they are for one another!

Searching for some way to vent my frustration, I decide to give her a particularly rude awakening. I remove the goblet from the tray and set it down on the floor before lifting the tray from the ground and marching back over to Jane's side. I position the tray in such a way so that when I release it from my grasp, it will land a few feet away from her head. After raising it up as high as my arms will allow, I let the tray slip from my fingers and watch as it tumbles to the floor. The worn stone flooring of the cell causes the tray to clatter and the china plate to smash in two, resulting in a piercing CLANG which reverberates off the walls of the chamber. Jane launches herself off the floor as if she had just received an electric shock and I glare down at her as she sits up to look at me, her eyes blinking rapidly as they try to adjust to the light cast by my illumination charm.

"You are determined to make things difficult, aren't you?"

"Well, thanks for that. That's exactly how I like to be woken up in the morning," she grumbles, her voice still slightly thick with drowsiness, "Having said that, is it actually the morning? It's kinda difficult to tell in here."

"Do not try to change the subject; my patience is wearing thin as it is. Why is it that despite my assurances that the water wasn't poisoned, you have still failed to drink any of it?"

"What does it matter to you whether I drink it or not?"

Is this woman incapable of answering a straightforward question?! "It matters to me because I will be forced to return you to Thor at some point. The doppelganger cannot remain with him for years on end – an apparition cannot age, after all! And when that time comes I would much rather return you as a living being, rather than as a corpse – if Thor were to find your dead body lying around in your home one day it would naturally arouse his suspicions. As weak as you Midgardians are, it is not commonplace for you to drop dead for no apparent reason."

"So you're asking me to drink it because you don't want me to die of thirst?"

"Precisely."

"I'm touched," she replies sarcastically.

"Don't be. Your death would not be a cause of grief for me; it would just be an inconvenience. And you've already caused quite enough of those."

She hesitates and lowers her gaze, apparently reflecting on what I have just said. After a few moments she looks up at me again. Much to my irritation, I can see that her eyes are still filled with suspicion. "Okay, I can see how keeping me alive works in your favour. So I accept that the water isn't poisoned, but there must be something wrong with it, because you wouldn't taste any!"

"I refused to do that because there is no need to! Can't you see that this is all just a ridiculous fantasy dreamt up by your vivid imagination? You may be willing to be a part of all this nonsense, but I'm certainly not!"

"Look, will you just…" She trails off and sighs, sounding slightly defeated. I watch her, waiting for her to throw her next accusation at me. "Please," she utters eventually. I blink, genuinely surprised. Of all the things I was expecting her to do, resorting to politeness wasn't among them! "Please, will you just taste some of it for me? I'm a scientist, okay? I need to see indisputable proof before I draw my conclusions. If you drink some right now and nothing happens to you, I promise you I'll drink everything that's left in the goblet."

Finally, she appears to be giving in! It took her long enough. Obviously, this situation is not ideal; that potion was meant to be consumed by her alone. However, I think I can safely afford to drink a small amount of it. As long as I remain separate from her during the actual procedure the potion shouldn't have any major effect upon me. "Very well, Foster; I will humour you just this once. Fetch it for me, will you?"

She does as she is instructed and climbs to her feet to retrieve it. When she brings it over to me I immediately take it from her grasp and lift it to my lips, drinking roughly a quarter of the contents before lowering the goblet again. She watches me intently, waiting for some grotesque side-effect to manifest itself. She looks so ridiculous that I cannot resist the urge to mock her.

"How astonishing – nothing's happened to me! I don't believe my eyes!" I exclaim, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

She ignores my little jibe and simply nods her head, appearing convinced. "Yeah, okay," she murmurs, holding out her hands so I can return the goblet to her. I have scarcely placed it in her grip before she raises it up to her mouth and eagerly starts to drink from it. Rather than sipping from it in a ladylike fashion, she tilts her head back and gulps it all down in one go, making vulgar slurping noises as she does so. I stare at her in a mixture of disgust and amusement. It's difficult to believe she attended a royal feast in the polite company of countless noblemen only a few nights ago! Although I must admit that if she had behaved in this way at the feast it certainly would have made the occasion a lot more entertaining.

Having finally drained the whole goblet, she lowers it from her mouth and uses the back of her hand to wipe the moisture from her lips. "Thanks."

I smile pleasantly. "You are most welcome. Now hold still."

Jane's eyes widen in alarm and I click my fingers, causing the tray to fly off the floor and soar across the air, heading towards the back of her head. She glances behind her and attempts to jump out of the way, but I restrain her by grabbing on to her shoulders, holding her in place. A moment later the tray strikes her head with considerable force and she cries out in pain, her body going limp as she is knocked unconscious. Resting the weight of her body on one arm, I slide my spare hand underneath her legs and lift her upwards so that she is now lying horizontally on my outstretched arms. As I turn around and carry her out of the cell, I grin with satisfaction. At last I can start to make some progress...

Third person POV

"The roses are beautiful, are they not, Jane?" Reaching out, Thor plucked one of the flowers away from the rest of the bush and offered it to her. "Here, smell it; the scent is far sweeter than that of any flower you will come across on Earth."

The doppelganger took the flower and held it up to her nose, inhaling its fragrance. "Mmmm, that's gorgeous! What's the name of this rose?"

"The Bloodied Hand."

The doppelganger shot him an incredulous look. "You're kidding me?"

"No, I promise you that is their name. The royal groundskeepers laboured for decade after decade to produce a rose that was identical in colour to fresh blood. One day, many hundreds of years ago, the summer flowers were beginning to come into bud and one of the apprentice groundskeepers was going about his duties, watering the plants, providing them with nutrients and so on. When he came upon the roses he was shocked to discover that they had bloomed into the vibrant red colour that you see before you now. He instantly ran to fetch the chief groundskeeper and, when his mentor arrived, the older man was so intent on ascertaining whether or not he had succeeded in his goal that, without a moment's hesitation, he drew a dagger, slit the palm of his hand and held it against the rose to compare the two colours. To his delight, the petals were exactly the same hue as his own blood. He was filled with such joy that, according to the apprentice, he then leapt over the bushes, danced a jig across the lawn and jumped into the fountain!"

The doppelganger laughed. "That's one way to celebrate, I guess!" At that point she stopped in middle of the path and turned in a three-hundred-and-sixty degree circle, casting an admiring eye over the flowerbeds, fountains and lush green lawns that made up the Asgardian Royal Gardens. "This place is so incredible. I could stay here forever and never get bored of it."

Thor put his arm around her shoulders as they continued to stroll along the paved walkway. "If you think it is impressive now you should see how it looks at dusk. The lanterns come on shortly after sunset and they make it look very picturesque."

"Really? Can we come here tonight?"

Thor smiled fondly, amused and flattered by her fascination with his home realm. "We will not be able to return here tonight, Jane. We will not have the time."

"Why not?"

"Surely you haven't forgotten about our plans for this evening?" He waited for her to reply, but when his words were met with nothing but silence his brow furrowed and he turned his head to glance down at her. She was looking up at him with a baffled expression – she obviously had no idea what he was talking about.

"Jane?"

Realising that she had made an error, the doppelganger attempted to stall for time: "Oh wait, weren't we going to the…uh, the…"

"To the Astronomical Tower, to observe the constellations," Thor reminded her as he stopped in the middle of the path, frowning in suspicion.

"Oh yes, the Astronomical Tower, of course! How could I possibly have forgotten that?!" The doppelganger gave an embarrassed smile, trying to make light of the situation.

Thor, on the other hand, didn't find it amusing at all. In fact, he found it deeply worrying; in the days leading up to their departure from Earth, all Jane had been able to talk about was how much she was looking forward to visiting the tower. It would be "the highlight of the trip", she had said. This little incident only confirmed Thor's growing fear that there was something wrong with Jane. A few days ago, her lack of anger regarding how he had stayed out all night had come as a surprise to him, but he was feeling so terrible that he decided against questioning it – having been offered the opportunity to retreat into bed and sleep off his hangover, there was no way he was going to refuse that offer, no matter how strange it may have seemed. However, now that he had recuperated and he could safely ascend a staircase without wanting to keel over at the top, he realised that what had happened in their bedchambers wasn't an isolated occurrence – Jane had changed. She had always been a cheerful person – indeed, her ability to see the lighter side of life was one of the things that he found most attractive about her – but now she was cheerful all the time and nothing had the effect of darkening her mood. Even when an Asgardian nobleman made a snide remark about her the other day, she had merely smiled politely and walked past him. Thor had admonished the aristocrat for his rudeness, but he was surprised that Jane had not done so first. The Jane he knew would not allow anyone to insult her, not even his father.

And then there was the unexplained forgetfulness – she was often unable to recall conversations that they had had while they were still on Earth (for example, whether they should continue living with Eric and Darcy or whether they should find a place of their own, and so on). But the fact that she had now suddenly forgotten about their plans to visit the tower was by far the most damning piece of evidence. That would never have escaped Jane's memory; not if she was in her right mind, that is. It was now indisputable that there was something wrong with her and Thor was determined to find out what.

Having reasoned that it was best not to agitate her, Thor decided to broach the topic as calmly as he could. Removing his arm from her shoulders, he gently took her wrists into his hands, partly as an affectionate gesture, partly to indicate that he wanted her full attention. "Jane, what is the matter?" He asked softly.

The doppelganger's smile faltered. "Nothing's the matter," she replied evasively.

"No, something is troubling you, I can tell. I cannot believe that you would simply forget about our visit to the Astronomical Tower, not after you told me how exhilarating it would be for you to study the Asgardian night-sky, to record all the stars that are not visible from Midgard..."

"It just slipped my mind, that's all! I've got a lot to think about at the moment and…"

"But that is not the only thing you have forgotten about! There have been so many others, so many important discussions which you cannot seem to recall…And what of this sudden change in character? You no longer quarrel with anyone!"

The doppelganger raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying I should quarrel with people?"

"No, no, of course not! Well, not unless they are being unreasonable, but that's hardly the point!" He sighed. "Come, sit down." Leading her over to one of the arbours that dotted the garden path, Thor sat down and beckoned her to join him. The doppelganger hesitated for a moment before sitting down beside him. Now that they were both seated, Thor decided to get to the crux of the matter: "What I am trying to get across is that you are no longer yourself. Something has changed and I want to know why that is. I am not displeased or angry, I am only concerned. So please, tell me."

The doppelganger fidgeted uneasily. What was she supposed to say? "I...I, um..." In her nervousness, she absent-mindedly started to pick at the rose she was holding in her hands, running her fingers over the top of the flower, tugging at the petals. "I don't know," she replied weakly.

"You do not know why you are acting differently?"

"No."

"Do you feel different at all?"

The doppelganger remained silent.

"Jane?" Thor pressed her.

"Yes," the doppelganger answered somewhat uncertainly, hoping that if she said this, it might discourage Thor from asking her further questions. She was now so uncomfortable that she was willing to say practically anything to make the interrogation stop. Anything except the truth, that is.

Thor reflected on this new piece of information. Perhaps Jane was afflicted with some sort of illness. Or perhaps something else was to blame; maybe some sort of enchantment had been placed upon her? If either of those things were the cause for Jane's odd behaviour, he was confident that the healers would be able to detect it. There was no way he was going to waste time by sending Jane to one of those "doctors" on Midgard. The healers were far more knowledgeable about this sort of thing. Indeed, if it turned out that magic was responsible for all this, he highly doubted that a doctor would even notice that anything was out of the ordinary!

Jane needed to be examined by a healer – it was the only way. He couldn't care less if his father found out and accused him of wasting the healers' time. As far as Thor was concerned, Jane's wellbeing would always be his first priority.

"I want you to pay a visit to the healers this afternoon," he told her.

The doppelganger stiffened. "Why?"

"Because there is clearly something wrong with you! You may not know what it is, but I am confident that the healers will be able to tell us. Now, do not look so distressed…" he added soothingly, "…they are not going to dissect you! They will simply give you an examination, as they did when the Ether was trapped inside you."

"But I'm sure it's nothing serious! I think I'm just going through a phase, I'm sure it'll pass soon..."

"Jane, please, do this for my peace of mind. Maybe you are right, maybe this is not serious, but I still want to hear the healers' verdict. Now, as you know, my presence is required at a warriors' counsel this afternoon, meaning I will be unable to accompany you. So I want you to promise me that in my absence you will go to see the healers, yes?"

The doppelganger nodded reluctantly. Thor had left her with little choice but to agree. "Yes, I promise."

"Thank you. I know it must seem like I am being over-cautious, but I only have your best interests at heart..."

"I know, I know."

Noticing that the doppelganger seemed a little withdrawn, Thor added: "If you do not wish to go on your own I am sure one of my friends would be happy to escort you. Sif, perhaps, or Volstagg?"

"No!" The doppelganger exclaimed before she could stop herself. "I mean, um, no thanks. Although I think it's highly unlikely, if it does turn out that there's something wrong with me, I'd be so embarrassed if one of your friends was there. I'd rather go alone."

"Very well." Deciding to change the topic in order to brighten Jane's mood, he stood up and held out his hand to her: "Come along, we still have a short while before the counsel begins. And we have yet to complete our tour of the gardens."

"Okay." Taking hold of his hand, the doppelganger allowed Thor to pull her to her feet and as he led them away down the path, she contemplated her next move. Obviously she was not going to go to the healers – the fact that Thor would not be around that afternoon was indeed a blessing. But what should she do afterwards? He would want to know what the healers' diagnosis was. Would it be wiser to tell him that they had said there was nothing wrong with her, or would it be more advisable to say that they believed she was suffering from a minor illness? What if he was not convinced by either of those claims? What if he demanded that she have a re-examination and he accompanied her there, only for the healers to inform him that she had never visited in the first place?

As she ran through all these possible scenarios in her mind, the doppelganger grew tense and she clenched her hand tightly, causing the stem of the rose to snap. Having completely forgotten about the flower, the doppelganger glanced down in surprise. The rose was hanging limply in her hand, the top of it drooping to the side. It reminded the doppelganger of a prisoner's body lying by the executioner's block; a body that still had the head partially attached because the axe had fallen at a funny angle.

She couldn't allow Thor to see how she had mutilated the rose – he needed to believe that everything was fine, that there was nothing to be suspicious about. The fact that she had nearly snapped the head off the flower would clearly indicate how uneasy she was feeling! She had to dispose of it before he noticed. Waiting until the former prince was looking in the opposite direction, she surreptitiously tossed the mangled rose behind a bush and breathed a silent sigh of relief. When he realised it was missing, she would simply pretend that it had slipped from her grasp. She was sure he'd be more than happy to pick her another one.