Beneath
Chapter Seventy – Relationships
"This is pure folly, is it not?" Loki whispered after John Hammond's video in Jurrasic Park explained how dinosaurs were recreated from sucking blood out from mosquitoes trapped in tree sap many millions of years ago. The viewing group was smaller than for Miracle, just six, and he'd wound up on a sofa next to Jane instead of the floor.
"Mostly, from what I understand. There's some conceptual basis for it, though," Jane whispered back, keeping her eyes on the screen.
He tried to keep his questions to a minimum, and managed to limit himself to just one other, about how the dinosaurs were depicted if they did not actually exist. He held off on asking until he'd seen enough of the various creatures and the little imperfections to know without doubt that they were not actually physically present with the actors, at least not always. To him they looked like the illusions he created – better than his early ones, not as good as what he was capable of now. Jane told him they were made with puppets, or separately with computers and added into the scene with the actors later. He was distracted from the movie for a few minutes afterward, considering what similarities there might be between this form of Midgardian technology and the magic he knew – physical manipulation via powerful machinery versus physical manipulation without intermediary. Then a velociraptor, quickly followed by a second, found the two children in the kitchen and he forgot his contemplations.
He'd found it strange, at earlier points in the movie, how helpless the mortals appeared when faced with these beasts. Had they no effective weapons with which to fight? No trained warriors at all among them, only scientists and children, wielders of law and monies? A bilgesnipe was not so unlike some of the dinosaurs depicted, and every Asgardian citizen knew the basics of how to defend him- or herself from one. But this was different; this was children. A young girl, a younger boy who was injured. An enclosed space, ladles and pots instead of swords or firestaffs or Midgard's advanced weaponry. He smiled his appreciation for the girl, banging a ladle on the floor to protect her younger brother who was too overcome with fear to move. His eyes widened when the girl couldn't get the door down on the kitchen cabinet she'd hidden herself in, he sucked in a breath when the raptor dove for her, let it out in relief when it smashed into the side of her hiding place and she escaped.
Once his breathing sufficiently slowed down, after the second raptor was locked away in a freezing chamber, he almost leaned over to remark that they really should have such entertainment on Asgard. Jane, he saw then, had balled up the material of her sweater in her fists, pressed into her lap, and was just now relaxing her grip. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, and he could hear her breathing. He turned his gaze back on the screen.
When the movie ended and the others began to reminisce about how well the movie stood up to time, how good the special affects still were, how scary certain scenes still were, Loki asked a few questions and explained that he'd travelled a lot in his youth and had somehow managed to miss Jurassic Park and many other cultural icons, though of course he'd heard about it. He began to embellish the lies further, but he could tell Jane was growing uncomfortable. "Be honest," she'd said. That, my dear, is difficult when one has never seen a movie that apparently everyone in your realm has seen more than once. He enjoyed spinning tales, crafting them to meet his needs – including enthralling an audience – but in light of Jane's reaction he cut his story short and asked another question of the group instead.
A few minutes later he accepted an invitation from Zeke, one of their fellow movie-watchers, to play horseshoes, and was surprised when Jane turned it down. The group filed out of the B-3 lounge, and Loki put a hand on Jane's elbow to get her to linger. "Who's going to whisper in my ear the rules for playing horseshoes?" he asked once the others were out of earshot.
"You'll be fine," Jane said. "I don't know what the rules for playing horseshoes are. I think you basically throw a horseshoe at…a big nail or a spike or something on the ground and try to catch it on the nail. Maybe there's some kind of complicated scoring rules or something, but otherwise it's pretty simple. I've never played it before, so just say you haven't either. There's nothing unusual about that."
He nodded and headed up the stairs to go back to his chambers and get his gear on, then trotted down the beercan stairs and over to the arched Vehicle Maintenance Facility building, also known as the "heavy shop" for the large vehicles stored in it, he presumed. His suspicion that this game was little different from one he and Thor had made up as children while playing in the stables was soon confirmed.
Observing the four men, Zeke, Brody, and Tristan from the movie and Ronny who'd wandered in a few minutes later and stayed, was interesting; he'd paid them little heed until recently. Whiskey and beer were brought out, but Zeke – whom Loki had helped prepare for the Mass Casualty Incident scenario –remembered that he didn't drink and got him a 7-Up. As children they'd taken the game more seriously than this group of Midgardians. More time was spent standing around or perched on vehicle seats and talking than actually playing, which was fine with Loki, who found the game boring. He listened, commented when he felt like it, but used most of his time not tossing a horseshoe to look at the engines and controls on the various vehicles.
"You ever had the chance to drive one of these babies, Lucas?" Zeke asked.
"I haven't had the pleasure," he said, sitting in the driver's seat of a black Ski-Doo snowmobile and testing out the feel of it. "Only the indescribable joy of bouncing around on a giant red mat behind one."
Zeke laughed. "That's the worst one. There's one that's got kind of ski-lift chairs, much easier ride. But they get busy in the summer. When's your flight out?"
That one required a few seconds of thought. "Tentatively November third."
"Yeah? That ought to give us time. We can try to get you the training at the end of the season, give you a chance to give 'er a go."
"I'll hold you to it," Loki said with a nod. He had no idea now if he would still be here then or not, but if he was, then he would enjoy driving the snowmobile. And perhaps forcing Selby to ride on the red mat.
"Lucas, your turn!"
Loki dutifully rose from the snowmobile and ambled over to the cleared central area of the building where the stake was set up.
The others, it turned out, had begun discussing the station's small female population. Loki smiled as he eyed the post. It was a natural topic of conversation, he supposed, though generally the women here were wearing more or less the same bulky unattractive clothing as the men, and he did not see that there was much to talk about. Asgard was certainly superior in this respect – women looked and behaved like women and men looked and behaved like men. For the most part, he thought with a grin, remembering the many times he'd sparred with Sif. He considered the precise positioning of his fingers, the amount of spin he should try to introduce to the oversized horseshoe's trajectory, and let it loose. A ringer, his first one.
"Good one, Lucas. Hey, do you go by Luke?" Brody asked. His job was "materials," and Loki had managed to so thoroughly ignore the bulk of the station's operations that he had little idea of what that job entailed.
"No," he said with a half-smile intended to communicate friendliness while reinforcing the "no." "Luke" was too close to "Loki," and too close to "Lucky," a nickname a few had tried to saddle him with at one point in his life before he managed to stamp it out. Luck had not often been a part of his life…other than the bad sort.
"Oh, okay. So, what about Jane?"
Cautiously he straightened from where he'd been eyeing the position of his horseshoe and devoting a portion of his attention to analyzing how exactly it had wound up centered around the stake. "What about her?"
"She's hot, man. You ever…you know…tested those waters?"
"We're colleagues. Nothing more," Loki said, smile gone.
"Yeah, but, come on, dude, there's only eleven chicks. Most of us are working with bearded guys all day, and you get to work with that. You can't tell me you've never thought about it."
"Yeah, Lucas, he's got a point there," Tristan the photographer and whatever job he did here said. Tristan who'd just been out taking pictures of Jane this morning.
Loki grimaced, but only on the inside. On the outside the smile came back. Jane, this is entirely your fault. It was you who insisted I spend time with the drunken peasants. And that I join in. "A man cannot be convicted for his thoughts, can he?"
Brody and Tristan lifted their hands and slapped them together. "Thank God, no," Brody said.
"Now that's what I'm talking about," Ronny said with a nod, while the others laughed. Ronny who he hardly ever saw, but who lived in the room between his and Jane's.
"I'd be wanted in at least seven states," Brody said. "And three continents. Wait, is New Zealand a continent? Or I mean like part of Australia? It's got to count as some continent, right?"
"Yeah, it's the continent of New Zealand, idiot," Tristan said, grabbing the whiskey bottle and offering refills to the group at large. "North America, South America, Europe, Africa, New Zealand…"
Loki joined the others in laughter, though they seemed to find it considerably funnier than he did, perhaps with the aid of the liquor. "And Antarctica. But Jane isn't that type of woman, so I would ask that you not speak of her that way." He didn't really know what "type of woman" Jane was away from this place, but he suspected that given her modesty here, she was indeed not the type to flaunt herself before men. He held back another smile. If he could master time, he could find out exactly what kind of woman she was. He'd told Thor he would pay her a visit; he hadn't specified where or when. Her future, her past, he could see anything he wanted.
"Neanderthal," Zeke said, throwing a mock punch at Brody. "Show a little respect."
Brody laughed. "I respect women. I love women. I just wish there were a lot more of them here to love. I mean to respect."
"New Zealand will be a paradise," Loki said, trying to turn the conversation away from Jane. He shouldn't care what they said about her, and he didn't, he supposed, but he didn't want to be brought into it. And he didn't particularly want to hear it.
"To New Zealand!" Tristan said, raising the near empty whiskey bottle. He tapped the others' bottles or glasses, and Loki retrieved his soda can to do the same.
/
/
"There you are. I was looking for you," Loki said, poking his head in the Greenhouse, then stepping fully inside and letting the door close behind him. It felt damp and muggy in here compared to everywhere else at the South Pole.
Jane looked up from the mystery novel she'd been reading while curled up on the couch and luxuriating in the 60% humidity and the aroma of live plants. She sat up and tucked a leg underneath her. "You found me. How was horseshoes?"
"Fine. You were right. It's not complicated. Especially not when half the players are borderline inebriated." He sat down in the cushioned arm chair squeezed into the corner of the other wall in the small room right outside the growth chamber itself.
"You must have done pretty good, then."
"I did all right. Though I'm not sure how strictly they were adhering to the rules. But I did something more interesting than play horseshoes."
"Like what?" Jane asked, little short of intrigued. Not only was she not having to pull teeth to get Loki to talk to her, she wasn't really having to ask at all. He wanted to tell her stuff.
"I arranged for snowmobile training at the end of winter."
"Okay. That sounds fun."
"Much better than the version of skiing done here, at least. And I did something else."
"Uh-huh?" she asked, her smile widening.
"Uh-huh? This isn't a question. Aren't you going to ask?"
Jane laughed. "Okay. What else did you do, Loki?"
"I defended your honor," he said with a smile of his own, watching her reaction carefully.
Jane let her eyes drift closed for a moment, completely at a loss as to where this was now going. "What does that mean?"
"One of the drunken peasants besmirched your honor, and I defended it."
She groaned, more at the self-satisfaction on Loki's face than at this "besmirching" of her honor. "Was this standard guy-talk or is there something I should know?"
"How should I know what is 'standard guy-talk' on your realm? It would be mild on Asgard, depending on the company. I believe you were described as…how did he put it precisely…'hot.'"
"Hot? Right. Yeah, that's the first adjective I think of when I look at Carhartts and hair that hasn't been washed for four days. I guess standards have to drop here. Was that all?"
"That was all."
"Okay."
"More or less."
"All right. Unless I'm about to start receiving some unwanted attention, I don't need to hear any more about it."
"Would it be unwanted?"
"What?"
"You could have your pick here. Admittedly the options aren't all that impressive, not compared to a god set to become king of the realm at the top of Yggdrasil. On the other hand, that position is perhaps tenuous at the moment."
Jane let her book drop to the floor and sat up. "What has gotten into you?" He never brought up Thor like this to her.
"Do you expect to marry him? You won't, you know. Odin would never allow his heir to marry a mortal."
"Okay, you can stop right there. Nobody's talking about marriage, Loki. Not even close. Have you been drinking?"
Loki laughed. "Yes. 7-Up. I'm in a very good mood, Jane. They don't happen very often, perhaps once a century. You should enjoy it while it lasts. Ask me anything. I'm feeling magnanimous. I may be willing to answer."
His "very good mood" still had a sting to it, but Jane could let that go; she'd let worse go. Instead she thought over his offer for a moment. The question she most wanted to ask was "why are you in such a good mood." She'd seen it all day today, and she wasn't naïve enough about him to think it was all because of a couple of days of being more social. Something had changed. It made her nervous, and she thought she really ought to find out just what had happened. But she didn't want to turn down the chance to ask him everything she'd wanted to know but been afraid to ask.
"Okay, then, tell me about Sif."
Loki drew his head back in surprise and confusion. He'd thought perhaps a question about Thor, or Asgard, or some other realm, more about the war, about his visits to Asgard via Pathfinder, about his millennium-ago visits to Midgard, a hundred other questions that would have seemed less random than Sif.
"Don't you know her?"
"Yes, of course I know her. She's insufferable. Has a problem with obedience."
"Okaaay, soooo, not a friend of yours, I guess?"
"Not particularly." He'd thought she was, at times. He'd even flirted with her during the early years of their acquaintance, but it had never gone anywhere. How naïve he'd been. How childish. But what did Jane care, he wondered, and asked her.
"I don't, not really. I just…she came to Earth looking for Thor, with three other friends of his, and hers was the only name I got. I just wondered about her. About them. That's all."
Loki stared at her, then let his gaze drift away, just enough to let her think he was no longer looking; he was. "She's a close friend of Thor's. Very close. You might say they're joined at the hip. In fact, I think they have been joined at the hip, many times."
Jane pictured Sif and her body-hugging leather and metal and her long legs that she didn't do much to cover – no baggy black Carhartt overalls and long johns and flannels for her, no sir! – and her hair that she got to wash every day and she was out there with Thor. An ex-girlfriend then? Everybody has exes, it's no big deal. But I'm not spending nine months down here with Don, now, am I? Oh, petty, Jane, that's petty. You don't have any claim on him. A couple of kisses, maybe it didn't mean much to him…
Jane's reaction, for Loki, was highly amusing. She was trying to hide her jealousy and worry, but Jane wasn't very good at hiding things. "So transparent," he said, the corners of his lips pulling up into a small smile – small only because he was holding back.
"What?"
"Aaaah, Jane. I told you, you should be grateful for my good mood. Sif and Thor are just friends. I would probably be in a fight for my life right now if she'd heard what I just said."
Jane's face hardened, instead of showing the relief he'd expected to see.
"You're really a jerk, you know that?"
He laughed again. "If you're trying to insult me, you'll have to try harder. That's hardly the worst thing I've been called."
"Can't say I'm surprised," Jane said, looking through the glass into the growth chamber and the beauty of the live plants inside it.
"I apologize for teasing you. I couldn't resist the opportunity. Now ask me something else."
"I don't think I want to."
"Oh, don't be petulant. Ask me something else."
"Why?" she asked, turning back to him. And what a strange universe is this where Loki is practically begging me to ask him questions?
Loki sighed and sat back again. Why, indeed. He didn't know why. He didn't know why he was in such a good mood, why he felt like being kind to her even if she thought he wasn't, why he'd genuinely enjoyed himself pitching horseshoes and inspecting engines, why he'd enjoyed that movie even though it wasn't helpful at all in thinking about time travel. Time travel. Of course. That was why. He'd begun to lose hope, and now he had it again. The future held promise. The future…or the past, he thought with a smile. But then he remembered yesterday evening with the little band. He'd enjoyed himself then, too, and that was before he'd re-read that passage on general relativity that opened his eyes. He didn't know why, but he'd felt free then. No matter. He also didn't care why.
With Jane it was different, though. With Jane he didn't have to pretend, not as much as with the others, anyway. And while playing the game was fun, not having to play the game was relaxing. He didn't have to wonder whether he should know how to play horseshoes or darts, he didn't have to think of reasons why he could only play instruments no one here had ever heard of. With her…she actually cares about the answers. More so than anyone else here. And she's the only one here that I…
He took another breath as he refocused his wandering attention on her; she still looked annoyed, and had gone back to apparently watching plants grow. "I like your curiosity," he told her. "Although it aggravates me to no end, I like that you always have more questions, that a simple answer is never enough. I like…that I can see you thinking. And when I see that moment when you understand something new for the first time, or have a new idea." He paused for a moment. Her eyes had drifted back to his, and now he felt like she was staring into his soul. That could not be a good thing. "But there's no guarantee I'll feel like putting up with the aggravation of your incessant questions tomorrow, so I highly recommend that you ask today."
Jane wasn't sure she believed him. She'd certainly seen the aggravation in him when she asked questions, and until recently she'd never been able to ask half of what she wanted to, because she'd learned that pushing him with more questions just made him angry, and making him angry was counter-productive. So now he likes it when I press for answers? She nodded, acquiescing, but felt skittish about what would follow. This Loki was unfamiliar to her, and therefore less predictable. But he apologized for teasing…two apologies in three days…maybe it's a good sign…?
"Okay," she finally said. "Are you married?"
Loki's eyebrows shot up. "No."
"Have you ever been married?"
"No."
"Have you ever been in love?"
Loki's mouth settled into a frown. You did ask for this, you know. "Yes," he said after a moment. "Next question."
"But who w-"
"Next. Question. Sometimes a simple answer must suffice."
Jane shook her head. She was curious, but not that curious. For as long as he'd lived, it would be hard to imagine he hadn't ever been in love. It was the next question she really wanted the answer to. "Do you have kids?"
Loki looked at her with a combination of bewilderment and disgust. "I tell you I'll answer anything – within reason – and you ask me about wives and children? Do I seem like the fatherly type to you, Jane?"
"No comment," she answered quickly. Although it seemed he was quite satisfied with not being "the fatherly type."
"Why are you so fixated on this? Oh, wait, you aren't volunteering to take care of my lack of wife and children, are you?" he asked, laughter bubbling up.
Jane shot him a look that said think again. "I'm asking because of something in Norse mythology."
"Really? What does it say about me? Only good things, I trust. Do I have a dutiful wife who bears me strong beautiful Aesir children?" he asked, his own curiosity genuinely piqued. So much had been accurate in the "myth" about Thor's stolen hammer, yet these mortals thought him married and a father? Loki wondered again how such stories had come to be.
"Well…," Jane began, and realized too late that she might have made a mistake in bringing this up. If anything could spoil a good mood, it was probably the one story she knew involving his supposed wife. "Have you ever heard the name Sigyn?"
"Sigyn…no. It doesn't sound familiar. She's my lovely wife, I presume?"
"Yeah. And you have two sons with her."
"Go on," Loki said after a moment. He cleared his throat. "What else do the myths say?"
"Lots of things that sound really crazy," Jane answered, glad to be able to move on.
"Like what?"
"The myths talk about an eight-legged horse named Sleipnir."
Loki nodded, relieved to not be discussing his supposed sons anymore. "Such a horse exists. Odin's horse. The strongest in all the realms."
"They say you gave birth to it."
Loki stared in silence, then gave a cough and rubbed at his throat. "Your myths…they say I gave birth to a horse? To Sleipnir?"
Jane nodded, watching him carefully. She hadn't thought it very likely before, but now she was certain it wasn't true. And she was almost certain she wasn't imagining Loki's cheeks turning a bit pinker than his usual pallor.
"Interesting," he said with a slow nod. "I did have something to do with the creation of that horse, but I most certainly did not give birth to it." He drew up his upper lip, and his gaze drifted blankly over toward the growth chamber. "However would such a thing even happen?" he wondered aloud.
Jane made a face. "I think I'd prefer not to think about that too much."
"Nor I." Still facing the plants, his eyes turned their attention in a slow sidelong glance back over to Jane, whose lips were just as slowly pulling up into a smile. She started to laugh, and rather against his will he started to as well, before he got hold of himself and the laughter faded, but the smile remained.
They sat there in silence for a minute or two, Jane watching Loki in profile. It was strange, this moment. She felt comfortable, relaxed with him, more so than ever before. They'd shared a joke. It felt like friendship. Jane drew in a quick breath and shifted her position on the couch; Loki glanced at her, then away again. May as well keep going…in for a penny, in for a pound. "They also say you're the father of a giant serpent wrapped around Earth, a wolf, and a girl named Hel whose body is half dead and half alive."
Loki listened, ready to laugh again until the girl Hel was mentioned. They think me the father of a personification of the realm of the dead? As preposterous as it was, it hurt, in a way that things really were no longer supposed to. But perhaps those mortals of long ago had known more truth than he gave them credit for. He hadn't thought of it before because children were hardly at the forefront of his thoughts, but he realized now that given what was hidden beneath his Aesir flesh, it was anyone's guess what monstrosities might result from what he implanted in a womb. He forced the thoughts – the images – away, for nothing had changed, he had no plans for children. "Where did I find the time?" he asked, forcing a smile to his lips and avoiding Jane's constant gaze.
"A thousand years is enough to accomplish just about anything, I guess. But at least you didn't give birth to those three."
At the last Loki couldn't help swinging his head back around toward Jane. She wore a strange expression, but she was smiling. He gave a short, breathy chuckle. "Enough about my monstrous progeny," he said, keeping his tone light.
"How about this? What was the happiest moment of your life?" Jane asked, hoping to continue to chip away at his anger, if indeed he was less consumed by it now, as he appeared to be.
Loki considered it, and found that his thoughts immediately jumped back to his childhood. Memories full of innocence and delight, of simple joys like frozen fruit sticks and grand celebrations and a brother like his other half and a mother who read him stories and a father he revered. Moments of happiness had hardly stopped with his childhood, but they'd become increasingly marred by self-doubt and resentment and envy, and now they were all corrupted. That was happiness Before. Happiness After had been pulling off the most brazen plan of his life with his slaying of Laufey just as the Frost Giant king was about to kill the Asgardian king. Putting Heimdall in his place. Watching a crowd of mortals scattering in panic, then kneeling at his command. He wished, for just a moment, for the innocence of Before. "I've lived far too long to name a single moment. What was the happiest moment of your life?"
Jane's eyebrows went up in surprise; she hadn't expected that question to be turned back on her. It was still uncharacteristic of him to ask about her life. She thought of standing on a hotel rooftop with a spellbound Thor, leading him out there with his hand over his eyes, then pressed comfortably to his side for warmth. Then she went back further, for it was a happy moment, an incredible moment, but probably not the happiest in her entire life…and more importantly not one Loki was likely to react well to. She'd been ecstatic when Don first asked her out. Then pretty happy, too, when she finally managed to break it off with him for good. Being hooded for her doctorate was pretty awesome, but more exciting in the lead-up than in the actual hurried anti-climactic moment during the commencement ceremony. Typing the last word of her dissertation was phenomenal, but followed by an adrenaline drop that weirdly felt more like depression. "I guess it's hard for me to name just one moment, too. But I think maybe some of the happiest times for me were the simplest, from before I lost my parents. Before I realized things like that could even happen. Like…when we went camping and my dad taught me the constellations. Or when my mom took me out for a mother-daughter day at a spa and we got our nails and make-up done together."
"When you were still innocent about life."
Jane regarded him for a moment. "Yeah. I guess that's one way to put it."
Loki nodded. Part of him wanted to tell her that he understood, that he felt the same, but a larger part of him was disturbed that he understood, that he felt the same. He did understand Jane, in some ways; he'd discovered that early on, in the rejection she'd experienced from her scientific peers. But intelligent, interesting mortal that she was, she was still a mortal, and the short life she'd lived was nothing like his own. "Fond memories of family from your childhood and youth were not the first thing you thought of."
"Uhhh, no. I guess not," Jane said, looking down at her abandoned book on the floor and wondering how he knew she'd been thinking about Thor; there was no doubt in her mind that he knew. "I thought maybe you wouldn't want to hear that one." She continued when Loki didn't respond. "Was I wrong?"
He stood. "No. I think I'll head to the galley and find something to eat."
"Okay. I'd join you, but I already ate."
"That's all right. I've learned to be sociable now, Jane. I can find someone else to share delectable leftovers with."
"Oh, yeah, that's right. I forgot," she said with a quick smirk.
"Shall we meet for breakfast, as we used to?"
"Sounds good. Oh, and Loki?"
"Yes?" he answered, hand already on the door.
"Thanks for, uh, how did you put it? Defending my honor."
"My pleasure, my lady," he said with a broad smirk, bringing a fist to his heart and dipping his head.
Jane gave him a half-smile and watched him go, then stared at the closed door. "Not exactly predictable, there, are you?" she said aloud, wondering again what had gotten into him and his "very good mood," and if she really wanted to know the answer.
/
/
Loki went not to the galley, but instead down the corridor, up the stairs with the brightly colored tiled walls, and out to the Observation Deck atop Destination Alpha, where he'd first entered this building nearly three months ago. He wasn't dressed properly for it, though he had left on the Carhartts from when he went out to the VMF. He could withstand these temperatures longer than the humans. He didn't know what would happen when he reached his limit, though he suspected his body would begin to shut down, going into a state not unlike hibernation. That, or perhaps that hidden part of him would assert itself, the part that was better suited to the cold. He didn't plan on staying out long enough to find out. He just wanted to breathe outside air, frigid though it may be.
You brought it on yourself, he reminded himself as he stared out over the Dark Sector buildings and the endless ice beyond, lit by natural moonlight and unnatural red, no aurora visible. You could have gone back to your chambers. You didn't have to talk to her at all. What did it gain you? It wasn't pleasant to hear, that Midgard's myths ascribed to him these monstrous children and named him father of the damned. He didn't know much about these myths, but he didn't think anyone from Asgard had been to Midgard in the last millennium until recently, so someone had formed such an opinion of him before he'd reached fifty years of age. Technically he'd been well into his adulthood at fifty, but still looking perhaps a Midgardian twenty with his aging drastically slowed, and in retrospect after all these years it was hard to see himself as anything other than a youth at that age. A youth already known on Midgard as the father of the damned. At least someone saw fit to give me a wife and two normal sons. Then he reminded himself that Jane had never said they were normal; he'd simply assumed so.
Unpleasant though it was, it was also better that he knew, Loki decided. So they thought me; so I am. Neither Jotun nor Aesir, certainly not Midgardian. Rejected by all. This little masquerade here is meaningless. It will end. You are still you.
But what if I were not? he thought just a few seconds later. What if I changed it? What if I went back, and never gave Thor the idea to defy Odin? If I hadn't gone to Jotunheim, I never would have learned the truth.
Loki's mood quickly darkened. I would have continued to live a lie. To not know that when I look at myself in a mirror I look at a mask. To never know why I could never measure up to Odin or his true son. How long would I have continued to fight that unwinnable battle?
Maintaining the lie was no better than having it revealed. It was worse. He would have remained invisible, struggling pathetically to prove himself a worthy son of Odin when from his first breath he'd been declared unworthy even of life.
A new idea sparked inside him. What if the lie…were the truth? That was a heady thought. He held out his reddened right hand and stared at it. What if this were my true flesh? What if I were born to Frigga and Odin, on Asgard, a red-blooded Aesir?
He laughed at his fanciful stupidity, grasping his left hand in his right and kneading the skin as best he could with numb unprotected fingers. Not even the most inventive use of a wormhole could change the womb he'd had the misfortune to emerge from.
/
/
Jane arrived at the galley first on Monday morning, and when she spotted Loki coming around the corner she excused herself from the table she'd been at and moved to one of the smaller round ones. She caught Loki's eye as she was doing it, and he nodded.
Loki sat down with bacon, eggs, toast, and coffee. The caffeine had little effect on him unless drunk in large quantities, but he'd slept poorly last night and not at all the night before, and he figured he could use every boost available in the busy day – and days – ahead.
"Good morning. How did you sleep?" Jane asked.
"Good morning. I slept well. And you?" he answered, buttering the toast. He would also slather it heavily with their version of jam. Neither the butter nor the jam compared to what was used to on Asgard.
"Pretty good. I guess I should stop asking you that, actually. Does the altitude bother you at all?"
Loki shook his head and bit into the toast.
"Okay, I'm officially jealous of that. Remember when I was having trouble in the beginning?"
"I remember," he said after a quick swallow, then set down his fork and gave his right hand a strong shake.
Jane looked at him and his hand with scrunched-up eyes before she realized what he was doing. "Ha, ha. Very funny. I couldn't help it, you know. It was the medicine. And anyway, it worked."
Loki cocked his head a bit, wondering whether to tell her the truth now. Why not? he decided in the end. "I presume the medicine would have worked eventually, but that's not what got you acclimated so quickly after the healer put restrictions on you."
Jane stopped the aimless swirling of her spoon in her bowl of mostly-eaten oatmeal gone cold. "Did you…do something? You did something to me?" She tried to keep out the accusing tone, but it chilled her to think Loki had somehow manipulated the very air she breathed. And maybe still was… "Are you doing something now?"
Loki frowned at her reaction. She'd been sleeping terribly, she wasn't allowed to walk out to the Dark Sector, and if her symptoms hadn't gotten under control she would have faced a return flight to McMurdo. She should be grateful. But he could show her patience; he was still feeling magnanimous. So he explained the thin flexible membrane he'd formed to regulate the atmosphere around her, and how he'd slowly lowered it over the next couple of weeks until it matched the surrounding air. "Now, do you seriously wish to complain to me?"
"It's just…I don't think you get how creepy that is. Because you did all that and I didn't know it. So, if you ever feel the urge to do something like that again, ask first, okay?"
"Should I have asked first when you were plummeting to your death in Asgard?" Loki asked, his breakfast now forgotten and his temper beginning to build.
"No, look, I'm-" No, you're not apologizing. "Those are two different things, and you know it. I'm glad you had your thousand-year-old net on hand. But you controlled my air, Lo-, Lucas."
"And how was Lucas Cane to ask your permission?"
"Lucas Cane should have told me from-" Jane shook her head and gave up. This argument wasn't worth pursuing, and it certainly wasn't worth losing her temper over his earlier deception at this point. "Never mind. What I actually wanted to talk to you about this morning was the movie. I meant to ask you about it yesterday and I forgot. You liked it though, huh?"
"It was all right."
"Just all right? I thought you were going to scream when those kids almost got eaten."
He shot her a disparaging look. "I could count on one hand the number of times I've screamed in my life." A slight exaggeration, perhaps, but she didn't need to know that. "And a movie with actors and puppets on a two-dimensional screen is hardly in league with those incidents."
"You keep telling yourself that," Jane teased. She'd seen him. He'd been thoroughly immersed in the moment and she'd heard the quiet gasp.
"I shall. Besides, why should I be frightened by an image on a screen, when I've experienced the real thing?" Loki asked with deliberate nonchalance, focusing back on his meal.
Jane sat back and looked at him through narrowed eyes. You're full of it, she thought in good humor, certain he was readying himself to spin her some tall tale. "You were hiding in a kitchen when a couple of velociraptors came looking for a snack."
"Hardly. We don't have velociraptors, and Aesir do not hide. We do have other creatures, some of them frightful, perhaps none more so than the bilgesnipe. Enormous creatures of destruction. Thor and I had begun sneaking away from our guards, and we found ourselves unexpectedly stuck in a barn without their protection when a bilgesnipe came tearing through the village we were in. I was ten, or perhaps eleven. When it came toward the barn, we lit torches and held it off until the warriors of the village could mobilize properly and dispatch it."
Jane tried to picture it. Even from the tiny glimpse of Asgard she'd had before Loki basically handcuffed her to the gate she knew that Asgard was hardly Scandinavia in the Middle Ages, but still she couldn't help conjuring an image that looked like a more rustic version of the pictures Erik had shown her than the gleaming city she'd seen. "I think I might have still thought there was a tiger under my bed waiting to eat me when I fell asleep when I was ten. I guess your world really is different. But did you scream?"
Loki smiled, stuck a bite of egg in his mouth, chewed, swallowed. "I might have," he then said with a smirk. He could allow her that easily. The bare bones story he'd told was the one Thor had said they would both tell when called to account for their actions. They were heroes. They'd protected themselves, a large barn, and dozens of animals belonging to two families. It was only half-true. Thor was a hero, Thor had done those things, and protected his petrified brother as well. Loki had panicked and been unable to move, just like the boy in the movie, other than to hide himself behind a thick wood post. Aesir do not hide. Stolen Frost Giants are apparently another thing entirely. "They're hiding, as cowards always do," Thor had said of the Frost Giants on Jotunheim. Loki had cried with shame when it was over and the bilgesnipe no longer a threat, and to console his cowardly little brother Thor had come up with a modified version of the truth that let them both play the hero. In the end, of course, no one else ever heard that version of the story. Not until this very moment.
I could change that, too. Shove the torch in my scrawny younger self's hands and force him forward. Lecture him about honor and courage and strength the day before. He shook his head. More foolish ideas. What difference would that make? It was a few minutes of one day. It did not determine the course of my life.
"Hey, you okay?" Jane asked when Loki grew distant and didn't respond to her comment.
"Yes, sorry. Just reminiscing. But we should get to work, shouldn't we? I thought perhaps I would alternate days. I'll work on my own today, and with you tomorrow."
"All right, that sounds fine."
"Good. Let's go, then. I've had my fill, and I'm eager to get to work."
/
If you're interested in how they drive vehicles at the South Pole…or in seeing a black Ski-Doo pulling that red mat Loki rode on, search "WINTER DRIVING WITH THE PROS: THE SOUTH POLE."
Thank you all for your kind reviews and comments! As we are counting down the days to TDW, I've thought several times how awesome it would be to meet up with you and book up a theater showing and all settle down for this experience together. I really can't wait. And yet with regard to this story, in some ways it will make me sad, because some of the ways I've conceptualized locations and societies will be made "wrong," in terms of canon. Characters will be in different emotional places and grow in different directions. Many of you know how important it has always been to me to be true to movie canon - definitely building on it and adding to it, but never violating it. And with TDW this story enters AU-land. Once you've seen TDW (and recovered!), if you come back to this story and still enjoy it, I'd appreciate you telling me so - it will probably cheer me up! (Assuming I've torn myself away from the theater yet myself.) And dear friends abroad, please, *please*, in your excitement over seeing the movie, please have pity on us poor Americans and Canadians who have to wait a week longer, and keep all those plot twists and surprises a secret.
Previews for Ch. 71: Volstagg tells Thor what he really thinks; mothers never stop being mothers; Jane has a phone call; Loki has a dream.
And teaser:
Imagination wasn't the problem. Something about time travel itself was the problem. He closed his eyes and repositioned his pillow. Of course, he thought. Power. It's always about power. Odin has it all. Or at least he likes to think he does. But he can't control time. He's never known all of Yggdrasil's secrets. I will. I will surpass him. I will upend his throne. I will leave Thor in my shadow…
You are weak, Odin, he thought as a moment's lucidity returned while sleep began to overtake him. Threatened by a youth's imagination…