THREE

A falling star fell from your heart and landed in my eyes

I screamed aloud as it tore through them, and now it's left me blind

The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out

You left me in the dark

No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight

In the shadow of your heart

And in the dark, I can hear your heartbeat

I tried to find the sound

But then it stopped, and I was in the darkness,

So darkness I became

- "Cosmic Love," Florence + The Machine

Alana was dreaming.

Her dream was dark but felt completely real; lips on hers, soft and smooth, a hand in her hair, pulling her closer, a hand cupping her face, cool fingers stroking her cheek.

The small part of her mind that was aware that she was dreaming scoffed, telling her that there was no way she had ever been kissed like that, ever. It obviously had to be a dream.

But the dream still surrounded her, and – why was it so dark? Oh, her eyes were closed, that's why. She returned the kiss fiercely, not wanting to let it end, letting it sweep her away…

And then the phone rang. She opened her eyes and found Lucas smiling mischievously at her, inches from her face.

She gasped and sat bolt upright in her bed, fully awake.

She ran a hand through her hair. What the hell?

She wasn't the type of woman to lust after men she had just met. She had never had a lasting romantic relationship that she could remember. So why was she dreaming about kissing an alien after only knowing him for two days?

And he was in love with someone else. She felt disappointed, then angry with herself for being disappointed. She had just met him! He was an alien!

But there was something in his eyes that made her hurt, made her feel like she was constantly about to pass out, to faint.

He was handsome, she thought. Maybe not the stereotypical girl's dream, but she liked his sea-green eyes and dark hair. His intensity scared her, but she could not turn away.

She shook off her feelings and got out of her bed.

A small book lay by the window, bound in leather, tooled in silver. Beside it lay a small box, which she opened to find full of pencils, all different shades. She let out a small sigh as her fingers brushed over them. She loved to draw, had loved it since she was a small child, and had become quite proficient over the years. She opened the book and a small note slipped out.

To give you something to do while I'm away.

- L

She smiled a bit. He couldn't have possibly known that she liked drawing, but the gesture was thoughtful and she wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

She opened to a blank page and began to sketch the city of Asgard.

Loki was not having a good day.

He was scouring the royal library for books on memory loss, but to no avail. He had eventually been forced to take the guise of an old man and gone to ask the person who kept the library for help, an older woman he had known since he was a child.

When she told him that all the books on memory loss were kept in the private section of the library, he let out a small noise of exasperation. "And I suppose I couldn't get into the private section," he harrumphed creakily. "Unfortunately, sir. I apologize, but the Allfather does like his private stores."

He scowled and left, turning a corner as an old man and in a flash of light, he was himself again. He shook his fingers out. He hated being old, even acting it.

You are old, a voice whispered inside him. You are a thousand years older than her.

He shook it off and headed for the Allfather's private library.

A quick illusion of Odin and the doors opened, revealing the books that Odin thought too dangerous or too important for the lords and ladies of Asgard to see.

He began to comb the shelves, pulling out several thick tomes that seemed helpful and letting them float in an ever-increasing stack behind him.

After he was done, he had probably a hundred books floating behind him. He sighed and prepared for some heavy reading.

This day just keeps getting better.

When Loki returned after sunset, he found Alana fast asleep on the floor next to the window. The pencils he had given her were scattered around, the book open to a sketch, in great detail, of the view out of the window.

He smiled and moved a lock of hair out of her eyes, fingers lightly grazing her cheek. She mumbled a little bit in her sleep.

He knelt there for a long time beside her, watching her sleep, peaceful and content, and for a moment he could almost pretend that they were back at her house, in those good old days.

But instead he sighed and pulled a blanket off of the bed, covering her. He still had a lot of reading to do.

Alana woke up once in the middle of the night. Her cheek was smushed against the carpet. She yawned and sat up; a blanket fell off of her.

Lucas must have put it on her. She flushed a little, imagining him seeing her passed out on the floor.

A candle's light guttered in the next room, so she wrapped the blanket around her and went to take a look.

Lucas was sprawled out on the floor, piles and piles of thick leather books surrounding him. A floating image of a brain hovered nearby, and he was muttering words under his breath every so often, as he found something that looked promising. Flashes of green light surrounded the brain as he spoke. Most of them did nothing to the brain, on which a bright red section was marked. He tossed that book aside and reached for another.

This time, when he spoke and the green light appeared, the brain exploded.

He swore loudly and threw the book aside, standing up in one fluid motion, hands clenched in tight balls at his sides. He saw her in the doorway and froze.

"Sorry," she said quietly. "I just wanted to say thanks. For this." She held up a corner of the blanket.

A small smile twitched its way across his face. "You're welcome."

She turned to leave, but he said, "I saw your drawing. It was impressive."

She smiled, her back to him. "Thank you."

"Are you going back to sleep?" he asked. "If you aren't, I have something to show you."

He had picked up a book, ornate, majestic. She decided that she wasn't so tired after all and sat down next to him.

He opened it, and the swirling colors and gilt letters entranced her. "Oh," she whispered, and touched the face of a particularly fierce looking creature.

"These are some of the species in the universe," he whispered. "Would… would you like me to teach you about them?"

She flipped to another page, still in awe. "Are you kidding me? Of course!"

And so as the night waned on, he spoke to her of the Dark Elves and the Light Elves, the Vanir and the Jotunns and the Aesir. She paused him only once, to go and grab her sketchbook, where she drew feverishly, drinking in his words, his vivid descriptions of all the beings in the Nine Realms.

He began to speak about the Jotunns, and she immediately grabbed a blue pencil.

"Blue?" he asked questioningly. She looked a little confused. "Didn't you say that they were blue?" she said.

"No."

"Are they?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Well, then," she said, and was about to begin drawing when he reached for her hand. "Alana…" He hesitated, not sure what he wanted to say. I haven't been telling you the truth. I am Loki, and the one who I fell in love with was you, and please, please don't leave, you can't remember me, but your memory was wiped…

But what came out of his mouth was quite different. "Will you draw me as a Jotunn?"

She smiled a little, puzzled. "Why?"

He shrugged. "Curiosity."

Do you remember me?

Please remember something of me.

Please.