"Jane," he replied.

"What…?"

"I…" he interrupted her, but then realized that he had no idea what he was going to say. Think quickly…"You left so suddenly and I wanted to be certain that you were all right."

"Oh," she looked at him quizzically. This was odd…"I am fine, thank you."

He nodded. This wasn't going at all to plan…and then he realized that he really had no plan. "Well, in that case…"

"Why don't you come in?" she had an idea to set matters straight with him. She wanted to attempt to understand just what it was that he was doing. What were his intentions… If he had any romantic intentions, for she did not. She was in love with Thor.

She almost had herself convinced of that fact…

He swallowed. Perhaps he could summon the letter while her back was turned, or while she was otherwise engaged with something. "If it isn't too much trouble," he smiled. By the gods he tired of these pleasantries. He wondered for a moment whether he needed to take the letter…but he then thought that yes, he should. It was an act of desperation, and he wasn't there. Not yet.

Jane went inside and put the kettle on. "It's strange having lived so close to the palace my entire life, and yet never really having been inside. Not until recently," she sat opposite him. "And now, I am preparing tea for a Prince."

He smiled in response, for he did not know where this was coming from.

"It must be very curious for some who work there to see me, a common worker's daughter become close with both of Asgard's Princes."

"To what do these observations tend, Jane?"

The kettle screamed. She rose to pour the tea, and Loki waved his hand…and there was the letter, materialized on the table…he quickly placed it in his pocket.

"I was speaking to the seamstress today," and she handed him a cup. "And she made it sound as though I am being…how to put it…slutty? with the Princes?"

Loki coughed on his tea. "I beg your pardon?"

"I'm sorry I wasn't more delicate, but the lady was rather indelicate herself."

He thought that he might need to thin out the seamstress room a bit. "If you are asking if I know of these insidious rumors, then the answer is no. I have heard nothing to that effect."

She paused at his defensive tone. "I meant no offense, Loki…"

(and he smiled a touch at her saying his name)

"…but you must understand that I have a reputation to consider. It matters very little what people think about you. But for me, well…"

This wasn't a place Loki wanted to take this conversation. He had retrieved the letter, and he needed to get back on track. He felt as though he had been steadily losing control over the situation for a while now. "I can speak with the seamstresses. You are a Lady, and shall be treated as such."

"I'm not, though. And I understand why they are saying what they are," she sighed, sipped, and rubbed her face.

"You are a Lady, Jane, if I say that you are."

She stared at him. "What do you take me for?"

"A Lady," he smirked.

"No…I mean, what makes you think that I want you to just…allow you to call me something that I'm not? Something I'm not comfortable with."

"Why, in the name of Odin, wouldn't you be comfortable with calling yourself a lady, but you're perfectly fine with being called a whore?"

"I didn't say that I wanted to be called a whore. I said that I didn't want to be called a Lady," she whispered. But then she regained herself. "Look, I just want to set things straight between us."

Loki's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean?"

"I mean…" she played with the hem of her apron. "I mean that I'm wary of how things have been progressing. I don't understand your intentions."

And now his mind raced. "Walk with me, Jane," he thought that the movement might inspire an answer.

"Why?" she didn't understand quite her hesitation and unease, but there it was.

Swallowing his pride, he said, "Please."

Her eyes held his, and she rubbed her palms on her apron. Jane nodded, and she stood…but in the back of her mind she promised herself she would not kiss him again. "Very well. Let's go."

He stood and went to the door ahead of her and opened it, allowing her to pass. He was thinking very fast. He had just stolen back the letter…the letter she had obviously forgotten about…the letter professing his false love. She wants to understand him…Thor would be back in just a few days…Loki would never have her full attention while he was here…he needed to get out of Asgard…"When you think of me, what is it that springs to mind?"

"That's an odd question to ask," she led him away from the palace, out toward the gates proper. She felt vulnerable on the grounds, and wanted to eliminate that factor from his advantage.

"Is it?"

"Yes. But I'm not opposed to answering it. Let's see…when I think of you…I think of magic," she smiled. "And green."

Loki nodded. "That's not terribly illuminating, Jane. I expected more of you," and he opened the gate for her.

"Oh all right," and she put some thought into it. "I think…of dancing with you…of…" kissing you. No…that won't do…"…your humor…grace. Forthright way of stating things."

"Much better," and they walked down a cobblestone path. "Though I have been quite blunt and have shared many things with you. I cannot help but be slightly disappointed in your observations."

She sighed and rolled her eyes. "What would you like for me to say?"

And now he stopped, and went over to a tree rooted to the path on the immediate periphery. He shoved his hands in his pockets, and without looking at her, began, "When I see you in my mind, you are much like an ethereal goddess, but when you speak to me, you are a wizened lady, seeing me as no one else does…you are my confidant…my stronghold on my very thoughts…nothing is cloudy save your physical image, for your body is too perfect to fully recreate in my imagination."

Her mouth hung open.

Loki looked at her. "What are you thinking now, Jane?"

"Loki…" she shook her head. "What is happening?"

She had asked that once before, and did not receive a sufficient answer. He wasn't certain that repeating the letter's contents would behoove him at present. "I am dreading my brother's return," he smiled.

"That's what's happening?"

"That is what I can explain."

She nodded. She felt as though she had been slapped across her face. "Explain more."

"I fear that when he returns," and now he approached her. "That we will never have this time again."

"We shouldn't be having this time now, Loki," she breathed. "I'm so confused…" she added, more to herself than to him.

"As am I."

"What should I do?"

And he could feel it. He was at a critical point in this endeavor. He could tell her everything, kiss her once more, or something else…"You should follow your heart."

Jane looked up at him, he was very close. "But I always listen to my mind."

"Then that is what you should do," and he tucked a strand of hair around her ear. "If you think your mind will give you the best answer."

She swallowed. "What do you want, Loki?"

Time for it, but not everything. "I want you, Jane. Even though I know I cannot hope to have you."

"In what way?"

"Are you so young that you do not understand my meaning?"

"No," she stepped back. "But you speak of friendship usually. I'm happy to call you my friend."

She wasn't ready. He sighed inwardly. Jane Foster took more time than sculpting a bust of Odin…who was notoriously particular about how he appeared in sculpture. Vain man. He was frustrated now, for he had grown impatient with her constant two steps forward, one step back, pace of this romance. She was eager enough with Thor.

Perhaps she wouldn't be won.

Or perhaps he needed to make her miss him…he studied her face for a moment. Thor had never paid her attention, and she fell in love with him. "I'm sorry that you are unable to see my perspective. Let's walk back, Jane. I need to tend to things at the palace," he turned without her, and began to walk.

"I do not require a chaperone," she called after him.

"Very well," he looked at her, for they hadn't gone very far. "Then I shall take my leave now, as I likely should have some time ago. I cannot keep doing this to myself, Jane. And I shan't. When you are ready, you may come to me," and he paused, swallowed. "And if that time never comes, I'm certain I shall see you with my brother upon his return."

And he left her there.

Had she hurt him? She thought that it would be nearly impossible to do so, for he was a Prince. How could a common girl truly harm a Prince?

Jane picked up a stick and began to walk home. This was better. She needed to clear her head.

She walked down toward the stream which played in the sun softly, and she sat on the bank. She began to think about how she would see Thor here with ladies, many ladies, and how she had wished that she could hear his whispers…that he was surely saying lovely things.

And then she thought about Loki here, just a couple of nights ago, showing her how the seior worked, allowing her to feel it…

…and that was likely the most erotic thing that ever happened to her.

She blushed.

How foolish she felt!

She needed to check herself…and she stood, swinging the stick. She would need to return to the palace to obtain her gown.

And she couldn't decide if she was terrified of seeing Loki. Or looking forward to the possibility.

"No, that's not what I asked you. He is coming back in less than two days time. I expect that all of the diplomats will be ready to receive him," Loki looked at the young messenger with a stern eye. Politics could be so tiresome. "You are dismissed," and he turned away.

He had expected to feel nothing at all when he left Jane there.

He was wrong.

He had felt a mix of excitement and nerves at her being so hurt that she would run after him, and when she didn't, he thought that she might seek him out later.

But why he should be nervous, he knew not. Nor could he account for his being excited.

He decided to dismiss it. Probably just excitement over the prospect of being done with this business. It had been such an incredibly long journey.

He sat at the desk in the map room and glanced at the art that was Yggdrasil. He traced his finger along the branches, and thought of the first time he had spoken to Jane…

He had showed her the Tree in the stream by her home, and told her he would not forget her.

These were the only truths he had ever told her.

Loki sat back and thought about that for a moment…

No. That was not entirely true.

But true enough.

"Your Majesty?"

Loki looked up from his reverie.

"You told me to tell you if the Lady Foster arrived. She is come to obtain her gown," he bowed.

"Thank you," and as the messenger left, he stood.

Loki left to go and spy on Jane Foster.

"Oh, it is lovely, thank you," she gushed. "I've never seen such a dress before," Jane held it to her.

"It was my pleasure," and Clara folded some material.

She nodded. "Have you made many fine gowns here?"

"Mm, not really. Seeing as there is no Princess," she paused. "Yet."

Jane blushed, then cleared her throat. "I apologize for my behavior earlier. I am not accustomed to there being talk about me," she looked down at her feet.

"Most would be thrilled to be in your position. But, then I suppose you aren't most, which is why you are in that position to begin with."

"What position is that?'

"Having the eye of both of Asgard's Princes."

Jane backed away. She turned, and left the palace.

And this was why she was so abrupt:

Because no one had stated this fact so plainly to her. She held the attention of both Thor and Loki, and she felt like a …a whore.

She shook. She was not fine with this, not fine with perpetually doubting Loki's intentions, being made to feel so utterly confused, and then guilty for feeling that way.

Why must women always be made to feel badly about these types of things? Men are encouraged to behave wantonly and erratically when it comes to the heart.

Perhaps she should mind her father and forget about them both.

He watched her as she left, and followed her stealthily. He could see that she was upset, and almost called out to her.

But even if he was acting, he had some pride.

At one point she stopped, and the setting sun's light filtered through the trees, caressing her frame softly so that the light seemed to emanate from her…

…and he thought it was beautiful.

He would leave her to her thoughts. There were some things that he could not steer her toward, and he thought that, whatever this was, it had to do with him. And talking to her, suggesting things to her, likely wouldn't help.

It was Friday.

Thor was returning Sunday.

If Jane did not seek him out tomorrow, he would pay her a visit tomorrow night, and prove himself to her.

He turned, his heart beating quickly, a slight sneer on his face.