Beneath
Chapter One Hundred Ten – Wonders
"Hey, Jane, how goes it?" Rodrigo said, stopping at her two-seater table in the galley. "Can I join you?"
"Sure, have a seat," she said, torn on the inside. Loki had already been sitting at one of the large tables when she arrived, and she had deliberately chosen to sit apart from him, and from everyone else, to have some time to collect her thoughts, and to review for the millionth time everything that she knew awaited her today. On the other hand, she hardly ever saw Rodrigo anymore – his schedule followed their main satellite and his meal schedule had fallen completely out of synch with hers – and she missed him. He had been her first friend here.
They exchanged pleasantries and soon wound up talking about the planning for Mid-Winter, now less than two weeks away. Jane was looking forward to the day, but at the moment her heart really wasn't in it. She would next see sunshine – on two different planets – in a matter of hours, not months.
"You seem a little distracted," Rodrigo said when Jane fumbled a response for the third time.
"Really? Oh, no, I'm just…maybe a little tired. I mean- Still waking up, I guess. So how are the satellites holding up?" It was a little abrupt, not nearly as smoothly as Loki did it, but it was just what Loki had taught her.
"Well, they haven't fallen entirely out of orbit and burned to bits yet, so pretty good, I'd say," he answered with a laugh, then proceeded to tell her more about their status.
It works, Jane thought, at the same time trying to keep her attention on what Rodrigo was telling her. It was the first time she'd tried it on an actual human being. She felt a twinge of guilt, but not as much as she thought she would. Rodrigo was a friend, and the question she'd asked was one she would genuinely ask and be interested in – in fact, she'd already asked it a couple of times before, and his initial answer was always pretty much the same. I can do this, she thought, smile growing. And I can do it my way.
With that conversation came a boost in confidence, and a transformation of her nervousness into excitement. She was ready; Loki had said so. I can do this, she thought again as she said goodbye to Rodrigo and made her way out of the galley to braid her hair, gather the clothing that Loki had adapted, and get into her gear.
We're going to Alfheim.
/
/
Loki was looking over the programming for Pathfinder on the laptop in the jamesway when Jane got there, though she'd left the galley before him. He doesn't have to braid his hair, she thought, carefully pulling off the balaclava and hoping the braid was still in good shape.
"Are you ready?" Loki asked, sparing her only a glance as he checked his work for the fourth time.
"Just have to change, Your Highness."
Loki straightened up at that. "Oooh, Jane, I like the sound of that."
"I bet you do. Don't get used to it," she said, hurrying back to one of the little bedrooms to get changed.
Loki watched her go, then turned his attention to his own attire. He didn't think he would be punished, not after all the illusions he'd made for Jane, but he'd never figured out how this curse was reacting to his use of magic related to time travel, and now he was actually going, not just planning for going. He reached into his hidden storage, found what he was looking for, and pulled…and pulled and pulled. A moment later he released the breath he'd been holding, hands and arms full. He began wrapping around and fastening and securing the bundle over the shrunken black sleeping tunic and black leather pants he already wore – "the old-fashioned way," as Jane would put it. The thought reminded him of his morning cleaning bathrooms with Zeke. It hadn't, in the end, been as tortuous as he'd imagined, or as he'd remembered from the one time he'd had to do before, when he'd used magic instead of his hands. Zeke had a good sense of humor and was easy to talk to, and Loki appreciated the additional maturity and life experience that both he and Gary had, at least relative to the other mortals here. But that didn't mean he wanted to do it again.
He pulled on the surcoat – an older scuffed version of the thigh-length one he was so fond of and that he'd forgotten he had until he started poring over his memories to make a thorough inventory of everything he'd stored away over the years – then switched out white bunny boots for the black Asgardian boots he'd brought out here in his satchel. Finally, he slipped his hands into the leather gloves, flexing and contracting his fists a few times in them. He gave a satisfied sigh at their familiar feel – soft and supple and warm and perfectly molded to him, with just the right amount of flexibility. He really didn't need to wear them, for they were meant for riding, or any type of adventuring that required heavy use of his hands – this pair bore a few scratches from such activities – but he thought they might help him remember that today he would be the Loki of ninety years ago, not the Loki of today who had recently replaced him. It was also true that part of it, he didn't mind admitting to himself, was really just because he wanted to wear them.
It wouldn't be easy, carrying out this role. He'd been very different then.
"Hey," Jane said, paused at the beginning of the little hallway. She hadn't seen him dressed like this before. Not as fancy as the armor and heavy green cape he'd donned as an illusion about two weeks ago, not as worn and damaged – and bloody – as the armor he'd come back in from Asgard. Layers of green velvet and black leather crisscrossed his chest and upper arms, and burnished gold bracers, more solid and heavy-looking than the ones she wore, reached nearly to his elbows, the lower part of them covered by leather gloves. The colors complemented his pale face and black hair in a striking way. "You look nice. Kind of…princely, I guess. Dashing."
"Thank you. I think." I've been a prince all my life. I'd better look at least "kind of princely." "Dashing" redeemed the earlier comment, though. He should look dashing. He shouldn't look menacing or angry. Not as angry as he'd become, anyway.
"The coat's pretty cool."
"The style is my favorite. Or was, I suppose."
"You have good taste," Jane said, then recalled what he'd worn in Stuttgart inside the museum, illusion-worn, she understood now. He may have been acting like a crazed maniac, but he knew his way around clothes.
Jane's gaze on Loki turned reflective. She'd thought of him in Stuttgart, inside that museum, and it hadn't upset her or made her even the slightest bit uncomfortable. And that said nothing about Loki, she thought. It says something about me. Her gaze remained on Loki, who'd gone back to inspecting his layers of cloth, but her reflection had now turned inward. Have I forgiven him? Can you forgive someone who hasn't even asked for forgiveness? Who isn't even sorry? Jane thought hard about it, and couldn't come to an answer. Then she remembered that when she'd asked him whether he would still do to Dr. Schäfer now what he'd done then, she may have filled in that he didn't regret it, but in reality he'd never actually answered. Maybe, she thought, questions about regret are as hard for him to answer as questions about forgiveness are for me.
"What?" Loki asked, noticing Jane staring at him oddly. She looked beautiful in the pale pink gown, the scarf now over her braided hair, just as much so as she had the first time he'd seen her in that attire, but he'd known what to expect this time, and had avoided any reaction.
"Nothing," Jane said, snapping out of her introspection. "Quit your preening. Let's go."
Preening? Loki thought, though he did no more than shake his head. He had been teased for preening before, but it had been a while. It usually annoyed him – making sure one was well-groomed and properly attired was hardly "preening" – but from Jane, at least on this day, somehow it didn't. "Come and collect your 'jewelry,' then," he said, picking up the electronic devices they needed for their travel and holding Jane's out to her.
Jane slipped them on over the bracers on her wrists – Loki had said she didn't need to wear them, that they were more an Aesir custom than a Vanir one, but she'd decided she wanted to. They fit well, they protected her wrists…and they were really pretty and she didn't know when she'd be able to wear them again.
"Here," he said, handing over the dark gray cloak he would wear on Asgard. "Wrap yourself in this for the walk out. It's hardly ECW gear, but it's better than what you've got on now."
Jane took it with gratitude and bundled up. This – the walk out to Pathfinder – was the only part of the trip she dreaded.
"Ready?" Loki asked, hand on the doorknob he'd once broken off in anger.
She nodded and Loki opened up the door. The cold was vicious, dressed as she was, but she pressed forward and out into the dark morning. Each painful step took her one step closer to Asgard, where it would be sunny and warm. They got into position, Loki pressed the go-button, and Jane blinked at four seconds, then forced her eyes to stay open when the pull at her stomach came at five seconds. Loki, she remembered, had said he'd seen tunnels, and she had not entirely believed him at the time. She didn't see tunnels; just blurred shades of smeared black and gray, and the gray she wasn't sure was real or a trick of the eye.
Her knees buckled a bit when the ground reappeared beneath her feet, and her stomach gave the same lurch it always did, but she was prepared for it and recovered quickly. Still, something wasn't right.
It wasn't sunny, and it wasn't particularly warm. It was gray and foggy. And wet. She pulled the hood of the cloak down and looked up to find her face splattered with heavy raindrops. They were in the right place, though; she recognized it easily. "I guess it rains even in Asgard," she said in a lowered voice, turning to Loki just in time to catch him giving her a disdainful look.
"Give me the cloak," he said.
"So much for chivalry," Jane answered, unwrapping herself from it and handing it over, the electronic devices from her wrists carefully covered by the bundle of cloth. Loki taking the cloak back had nothing to do with chivalry or lack thereof, of course, and everything to do with Loki not wanting to be recognized. "Is it waterproof?" she asked as he tucked both of their devices into his satchel.
"It is."
Of course it is, Jane thought. Expands to the size you need, waterproof…probably turns into a life jacket if you need it to. She looked around and silently shook her head. It was just as Loki had drawn it. "Tables and chairs. Half of them knocked over from the drunken revelries the night before," she muttered.
"Indeed. So watch your step," Loki said, starting forward, toward the back entrance of the tavern.
Jane followed his path, picking her way around the occasional overturned chair, shards of broken mugs, an upside-down-helmet, and a boot, the latter two full of rainwater. Inside, there was less disarray, and they made their way quickly to the front door. Other than a real Old World vibe, it didn't seem much different from a restaurant-slash-bar on Earth.
The tavern opened up almost right onto the street, which was completely deserted. They stepped onto it and Jane hurried to keep up with Loki's brisk pace, then looked down curiously at her boots, which were not making the customary little splashes from walking over a rainy surface. There were no puddles anywhere, no gutters… "Where does the water go?" she finally asked, still keeping her voice quiet though there was no one around to hear.
"Through the street. The water's recovered and redistributed through a piping system underneath," Loki said, head tilted down but eyes swinging left and right constantly.
"How does the water go through and my feet don't?" Jane asked. Microscopic holes would allow microscopic bits of water through…not the buckets that were raining down on them.
"It recognizes water and only permits water through."
It "recognizes" water? The street is magic? The street is computer-controlled, and programmed to absorb only H2O? The street is constructed from some kind of Asgardian material that lets water through and nothing else? Jane filed it away in her mental list of questions. Loki was answering, but his answers were brief and his attention was clearly – and understandably – divided; the type of explanation she wanted was going to take more than a sentence or two.
Even once they reached the busier commercial district where the portal was, Asgard was deserted. Jane thought it was creepy. "Why's it so quiet?" she whispered.
"Haven't you noticed it's raining?" Loki whispered back.
"So, what? Asgard shuts down when it rains?"
"Of course."
"Of course? Loki, Midgard- I mean Earth doesn't shut down when it rains."
"I suppose that makes sense. You can't afford the lost time. All right, no more talking. We're just a block away."
Jane nodded; she knew exactly how far away they were. It was surreal, really. Like walking through one of Loki's illusions. She knew this was real, yet she was separate from it, a part of neither this place nor this time, and if all went well, in just a few minutes she would be leaving it behind for a third planet.
The first sign of actual life in Asgard came just before they made the turn to the portal, in a small corner courtyard, where a little girl around five years old was running around and jumping into puddles while the woman with her laughed and tried to shield herself from the splashes. Dirt and grass, apparently, absorbed water away from the surface the same slow way it did on Earth, and kids still loved puddles and had energy they needed to get out of their systems.
Jane, meanwhile, was sopping wet, silk scarf plastered to her head, silk gown plastered to her body. An umbrella would have been awesome. She pulled at the scarf a bit to make it cover more of her face, they made the turn, and there it was, the portal to Alfheim. The gold of the enormous arch over the illusion of a door gleamed brightly even in the overcast rainy morning, but Jane wasn't surprised, since the whole thing was some kind of magic or really advanced technology anyway. Beyond the door was another of the seemingly countless parks large and small somehow squeezed into the city, but today it was empty.
They stepped through one of the openings between the waist-high hedge ringing the park and followed a sidewalk of gold – Jane had asked when Loki told her this detail, it was actually made of gold – around to the "active" side of the door. She stared at it in surprise. Not even an attendant was there, much less a contingent of eagle-eyed Einherjar or one of Loki's old bodyguards. Jane couldn't help a delighted – and slightly delirious – laugh.
They stepped up to the door and Loki pressed a palm against it. A soft thrumming sound was followed by the door turning translucent. Jane looked up at him with an impish grin; he looked down at her with a look of mild reproach. She gave a shrug and shooed him forward with her hand. He looked confused, but a second later cocked his head and walked through the door. Jane took a deep breath and followed.
Her skin prickled as though she were walking through a mild electrostatic field, and though she braced herself for the twisting of her stomach it didn't come. It was dark, like she'd just entered a room with no lights, but then she realized she couldn't feel her body. Loki hadn't mentioned anything about that, and it scared her, but before she had time to worry about it the foot she'd stepped through the door with hit ground and a sudden blur of brightly-colored light quickly resolved into arches and cupolas and lattice and vines. A light floral scent wafted on a breeze. Jane sucked in her lips in an effort to hold back the ridiculously giddy smile that threatened to overtake her entire face.
"Welcome to Alfheim!" a long-eared attendant called, hurrying over. "Oh, Hira, towels," the man said, turning back to the small white-painted hut he was approaching from, the one thing that hadn't been in the drawing Loki had shown her, or in the illusion he'd made. A woman came out from the hut, carrying what to Jane looked more like washcloths than towels. "So this is why we haven't had anyone from Asgard today."
"Please, dry yourselves off, and allow us to make you comfortable," the woman said, Hina, Jane presumed.
She took the white washcloth handed to her – it was luxuriously soft but definitely not towel-sized. Am I supposed to just dry my face with it? she wondered, then glanced over at Loki to try to follow his lead. He was just lowering the soaked hood of his cloak, and his expression was cold and dispassionate – so different from what she was used to seeing from him that she froze for a moment, staring.
The moment the attendants recognized him was obvious. Both gasped and stood up a little straighter, the man adjusting the long orange sleeveless coat he wore over the rest of his colorful clothes.
"Your Highness," the man said, inclining his head respectfully. "Welcome back. Come to join your brother for more of our celebrations?"
Loki pressed the travel towel to his sleeve and watched it do its work for a moment while he took in what the attendant had just said. "I'm not here in any official capacity, I merely wish to enjoy the festivities. I would appreciate your discretion."
"Certainly, Prince Loki, I understand," he said with a pointed glance at Jane.
Jane's mind swam as she did as Loki did, pressing the soft white cloth to her sleeve. The silk over her arm began to dry and, glancing over at Loki again, she held it out to the side and twisted it, wringing out the water. Almost absently, she continued pressing the cloth to different areas of her gown and even her scarf until they were dry, too consumed by a single question to wonder much about how this miniature towel worked: Thor's here?
She would never know it from looking at Loki, whose face was as though carved from stone, but she was certain he'd had no idea Thor was here. It was part of his whole rationale for choosing this particular day. Thor was supposed to be at home recuperating from all the partying, just like Loki was. The other Loki. The Loki who actually belonged here.
They dropped the little towels on a silver tray the male attendant held out, while the woman beckoned them to follow her into the center of the welcome area, under the largest cupola, where the smooth white stone benches were that she'd asked Loki about earlier. He'd dismissed it, saying it was part of some old tradition or something. It seemed he was wrong. The reddish-brown tiles squished slightly beneath her feet as she followed. From the little hut emerged two more elves, these younger and looking rather nervous as they hurried to get ahead of Loki and Jane, cloth-covered blue glass bowls in their hands. Jane kept her head down and hoped the others didn't notice how often she looked to Loki to take her cues on what to do.
"Please, have a seat," Hira said. "What can we get you to drink? Juice? Water? Ale? Mead?"
"Nothing for either of us, thank you," Loki said, sitting down on the bench to Jane's right and removing the stolen cloak, which he then put in his satchel. He allowed himself to glance her way just once. He kept a mask in place, finding it not so difficult to do – he was a bit out of practice but he'd worn that mask for centuries, after all. Where is Thor? he wondered. He wanted to ask, but he knew Jane wouldn't want him to. As long as Thor wasn't here, it wouldn't really matter. He wouldn't be there. He'd met Niskit once, but he barely knew her, and didn't know where she lived. Even if he'd somehow found out, there would be no reason for him to call on her. He had no interest in her, and had even made fun of Loki for the time he spent with "that strange old lady." They simply needed to endure this revived ancient custom and then get on the road and out of here as quickly as possible without attracting any unwanted attention.
One of the younger attendants crouched down in front of Loki and started working one of his boots off; Jane was so fixated on it that she let out a little "oh!" when she felt her own foot being lifted.
"Left foot only," Loki said. "The right is recovering from an injury. And be gentle with my friend. I don't believe she's ever experienced your greeting ritual."
"No?" Hira asked from behind the two, where she and the first attendant who'd greeted them had headed. "It's true we don't do it often anymore. But it's a special occasion." Meanwhile, both of Jane's boots had come off, the white ankle-socks that now rather embarrassed her quickly joining them. Embarrassment turned to nervousness then, as she recalled Marty McFly's mom and the Calvin Klein underwear, but if the young woman at her feet noticed that neither the socks nor the boots were from Vanaheim or Asgard, she didn't say anything.
Jane was slightly bent over to see the cloth coming off the bowl, which was then slid forward, when she realized what was about to happen: foot-washing. Loki's foot was lifted first, then hers – she figured that was probably deliberate, princes before goat-herders. She jerked, startled, when she felt hands on her shoulders.
"Relax, my lady," Hira said from behind her, hands pressing into her shoulders. "You'll enjoy your time in our beautiful realm more if you begin your travels here comfortable and refreshed. Are you sure we can't get you something to drink?"
"No, thank you," Jane answered in an uncharacteristically subdued voice; she wanted to say yes. She hadn't had fresh juice in months, and she had no doubt that whatever juice they were serving here, it would be fresh. Cool water was poured over her feet; Hira's fingers dug in hard and she fought off a wince. A massage, then. Foot-washing and a massage. And a foot-massage, too, she realized a moment later when fingers similarly dug into the arch of her foot. She tried hard to hold back the occasional grunt. It felt good, but she was grateful Loki had told them to be gentle. The non-gentle version, meant for the hardier inhabitants of the realms other than Earth, she feared would have been downright painful.
"We're all a mite envious, you know, of you and everyone else who was able to attend His Majesty's ceremony in person," said the Light Elf working on Loki's shoulders.
"It was a fine ceremony," Loki said, struggling to balance how he thought he might have reacted ninety years ago – duty and diplomacy marking him on the outside, perhaps a desire to have a little fun at the man's expense flickering through him on the inside, out of boredom and chafing under all that duty and diplomacy – with how he ought to react now to avoid drawing Jane's ire for too much interaction in the past. "Were you able to watch the projection?" he asked, nodding politely once the elf began his response.
Loki didn't care, of course. He wouldn't have cared then, and he cared even less now. The elf continued on – that was part of the hospitality of this welcome, conveniently enough, light pleasant conversation that the visitor did not need to do anything to keep up if he or she did not feel like it.
Loki nodded, and ignored the elf.
Instead, he thought back to the hours-long ceremony that had seen the man he'd known all his life as "Prince Nadrith" proclaimed "King Nadrith." His memories of the ceremony itself were vague; for most of it he'd been preoccupied with other things. Surreptitious glances at Laufey and his sons and their army leader, as he'd wondered who that monster was, whom Odin had defeated, and who had taken Odin's eye. Surreptitious glances at the man he'd thought was his father, as he'd wondered how Odin felt about seeing Laufey here, and how he felt about watching his fellow king turn his throne over to his son. Surreptitious glances at Thor, who before much longer would have a day of his own much like this one. And he was so far from being ready for it. He'd become arrogant. Thoughtless. Chasing his own enjoyment and unable to see beyond his bulging biceps. Loki knew how to glance surreptitiously. Thor whispered to him during the ceremony. Kicked at his legs when Loki ignored him. When Loki turned the floor beneath his feet to ice – a rather ironic moment, looking back on it – Thor caught himself on the rail and thought it was funny, failing entirely to get the message. Odin noticed, and didn't think it was funny, instead fixing Loki with that stare that could make the strongest of men cower. Thor never noticed that.
"He'll be a good king," Hira said.
Startled out of his thoughts, Loki turned for a moment. Nadrith. She means Nadrith. "I'm sure he will," Loki responded smoothly, straightening his neck again. "May he continue the reign of prosperity and peace that became his father's legacy." He kept his face carefully blank and eyes locked forward, over the shoulders of the young man working on his left foot, but he didn't need to look Jane's way to know she would be shooting him a warning look. Let her glare, he thought. It wasn't as though any of these elves were going to gain an audience with Nadrith, tell him Prince Loki of Asgard wished him a peaceful reign, and 90 years later that little exchange would soften his heart and make him refuse to join the alliance against Asgard.
"May it be as you say, Your Highness," the man said, giving Loki's shoulders one last squeeze before stepping around in front of him. His shoe and sock went back on, and the older man extended a hand to help him up. Loki didn't need a hand to get up, of course, but it was tradition, and in these days Loki did what was expected of him, generally speaking, publicly at least. He accepted the hand and rose, while Jane did the same next to him. She echoed his thanks for their kind welcome, and fell in at his side as they finally walked away.
"We need to talk," Jane said as soon as they were out of hearing distance. Her feet and shoulders and neck felt warm and tingly and good, though she wouldn't be surprised if her shoulders in particular might have been bruised a bit. The massage had definitely been at the upper limits of what she could take, and it had been hard to relax and try to enjoy it when she had not anticipated getting her feet washed and rubbed in the past, much less Thor being here. If she wound up meeting him here, ninety years ago, that would definitely change the future…or the present…or the past. She was confident Thor had never met her before when he woke up in the New Mexico desert and blinked up at her dazedly with those bright blue eyes.
They were, of course, not out of hearing distance, Loki knew, though he understood that Jane would think they were. "We still have an errand to take care of. We'll have plenty of time to talk once we're underway." He kept his eyes ahead of him, but he could practically hear Jane frowning. "There's no need for concern," he added.
Jane didn't respond. Loki sounded confident…but Loki was good at sounding like whatever he wanted to sound like. They kept going along the red tiled path, and Jane tried to let the worry melt away for the time being; it wasn't like there was anything she could do about it right now. The tiles, she thought, looking down at them curiously, were really awesome. Her feet felt cushioned with every step. Loki had said that people did a lot more walking in the other realms than in the developed areas of Earth, and she thought she wouldn't mind that at all if she could walk on this material.
Suddenly her head snapped up. What are you doing staring at the ground, Jane? She'd been so caught off guard by the tradition that supposedly wasn't practiced anymore and the mention of Thor that she'd completely forgotten what she'd been most eager to see here.
It looked like one sun, she thought as she squinted up at it. But it was a little oblong, and very bright. Two suns. Jane closed her eyes and turned her head to the side, then blinked a few times. Staring at the sun for a couple of seconds wouldn't actually blind you, but the UV light did cause what was essentially a sunburn on the cornea, and longer exposure damaged the retina, potentially permanently. Jane had no way to know what a couple seconds of looking at Alfheim's binary suns might do to her eyes, so she decided she was going to have to resist temptation to look at it them any further…other than maybe a few half-second glances now and then.
She would be back. She knew she would. Someday. In the proper time. And she would bring a good pair of UV-rated sunglasses. And a telescope with a solar filter; Young-Soo could advise her on the best filter to get for maximal protection. The thought made her grin so hard she felt it all over her face, and then a little laugh escaped. Loki looked down at her and met her eyes for really the first time since they'd arrived, and his face looked so cold and hard that she quickly sobered up and the grin fell away.
She'd seen many sides of Loki since first meeting him by Sydney Cove. She wasn't sure she'd ever seen this one. He didn't look angry. She couldn't put her finger on what that expression was. Maybe it was the absence of expression, except that his eyes were keen and alert, he seemed tense rather than relaxed, and it made her uneasy. His face was an opaque window that you somehow just had a feeling there was something tumultuous and unpleasant going on behind it.
They emerged from the garden they'd been walking through into a clearing with a cluster of quaint-looking thatched-roof wooden huts. Jane was again struck by how strange this all was; here she was walking around on an alien planet like she belonged here, and it all seemed familiar from Loki relentlessly drilling her on it. He'd wanted her to learn all this for her safety's sake, and in turn for his, but he'd also wanted her to "not stand there gaping at it," as he'd told her several times, and really it had worked. It was still amazing to see it for real, in person, but nothing she'd seen thus far had left her in the kind of awe she would have felt had she never seen it before. Except the suns, but then she'd never seen those before.
From what Loki had said, the huts housed shops that were a lot like the stores in airports, selling things you'd forgotten to bring with you on your trip, or things they tried to convince you that you needed now that you were here. Jane knew the way as well as Loki did, and they went directly to the one that sold basic clothing items. Here her eyes flitted around with greater curiosity; Loki hadn't shown her the interior of the shop. There was no particular reason she should be expected to know precisely where the cloaks were within the store, and besides, Loki had only been in here a couple of times himself. "A prince has no need of such trinkets," he'd frostily told her when she'd asked.
"Good morning, Your Highness," a middle-aged elf woman said as she approached them. Middle-aged, of course, was relative. Jane figured that here middle-aged meant a few thousand years old. "Welcome to Alfheim. I assume you've just arrived? What can I show you?" The woman's eyes slid to Jane just once, otherwise keeping all her attention on Loki. She supposed she couldn't blame her; princes, apparently, didn't often wander into her store.
"A cloak for the lady, if you please," Loki said, meeting the Light Elf's eyes in passing, but otherwise glancing around the shop with studied disinterest.
All the other woman's attention was then on Jane. "Yes, of course. What kind of cloak interests you, my lady? We're a small shop, but we have many styles and colors. Come right over here, if you would."
Jane followed her over to the wall on their right, where cloaks hung on top of each other running up the wall toward the ceiling. The shopkeeper pulled at the edge of one of them, and the bar they hung on lowered from vertical to horizontal , extending the rack of cloaks out toward the center of the store. Jane understood now why the store had seemed kind of bare when they'd first arrived. Two more racks followed the first down the wall; the woman said that the cloaks on the other racks would probably be too long.
It was a little overwhelming. Jane had never been much of a shopper; forget Asgard and Alfheim, it wasn't that easy finding things on Midgard that fit her petite frame, looked good on her, and were affordable on her tight budget. The cloaks came in every color of the rainbow, many adorned with metal or leather or embroidery, with and without pockets and hoods and buttons and ties, and the shopkeeper was going on about this and that, using words to describe the cloaks that Jane didn't know, and Jane finally interrupted her. "Just something simple, please. Something plain."
"Plain?" the woman echoed, with a glance over at Loki, who was standing a couple of arms' lengths away and looked bored. "Of course. When you have natural beauty, there's no need to adorn yourself so heavily, is there? How about this one?" she said, pulling out a light kelly green cloak with gold scrolling along the edges and gold clasps running down the front. "The color complements your gown nicely, and it's simple but beautiful, from Samit Hove."
Jane fingered the material, soft and light, and thought perhaps she should just take this one and be done with it. "Yeah, that's a good brand," she said, looking up at the woman with a nod.
"Ah…pardon?"
"She's from Vanaheim's Vestmarr Mountains," Loki put in before Jane could react.
"I see," the shopkeeper said, eyebrows going up. "Yes, I see," she continued, giving Jane a quick once-over. "Yes, my lady," she continued, speaking a little more loudly now, "a very good brand. Would you like this one, then?"
"Yes, thank you," Jane said, forcing a smile to her face. The shopkeeper gave her a big smile back, then took the cloak from the rack and sent each of the three racks back up to the wall. Jane followed her over to her desk, shooting daggers at Loki with her eyes once the woman's back was turned; Loki just smiled back at her coolly, but this time there was a glint in his eyes. Where once that glint might have frankly given her the creeps, now it reassured her. His stony exterior was a mask, and one she figured he must have had a lot of experience wearing, because she couldn't believe that had ever been the real him.
"Oh, I'm sorry, Your Highness, what else may I assist you with?" the shopkeeper asked, moving away from the desk again, cloak carefully draped over her arm.
Jane turned to see Loki had not followed them to the desk. Instead, he was running his hand over a row of hanging shirts he'd pulled down from the wall. What, you're going shopping now? Jane thought, getting annoyed. They were already behind schedule from the whole massage thing – not that she could really complain about it – and now he was trying to replenish his wardrobe.
"I'll take these two," Loki said, pulling two Asgardian-style tunics from the rack, a dark blue one and a dark green one, both with black edging. They were hardly the quality he was used to, but at least they had never been torn or bled onto. He ignored Jane, whose mouth was set into a thin line. He was pushing it with her, he knew, but he also knew she wouldn't object, not here, not in front of the Ljosalf woman.
The woman made the expected prattling small talk about how good his selection was and so forth, then told him the total cost. "Relay the bill to my account on Asgard." The woman nodded and noted it down in her register, and Loki couldn't resist a glance over at Jane. She looked like her eyes might pop out of her head, and he barely managed to hold back a laugh.
Loki tucked the tunics into his satchel and handed the cloak to Jane. He nodded his goodbye to the shopkeeper, while Jane clearly struggled to give her a smile that wound up as more of a grimace. He put a hand out toward the door and at least in his mind's eye, Jane practically ran toward it.
"What were you thinking?" Jane whisper-shouted at him once they were around the bend again in the garden and the huts were out of sight. "Relay the bill to your account? Loki, you need to go back there and pay her. I don't even care if it's counterfeit money or magic money or whatever."
"I'll do no such thing."
"Are you crazy?" Jane said, stepping in front of Loki and forcing him to stop. "What are you going to do when you get that bill from Alfheim and you know you weren't there?"
"Jane, think. I've never carried money. Do you think your kings and presidents and emperors carry money? Of course I would relay it to my account. Do you think I pay my own bills? I've never even seen my account more than a handful of times in a millennium. This is a tiny sum. It will never be questioned by anyone. The bill will simply be paid by some clerk whose name I don't know. I gave you my word I would not try to change history, and I won't go back on it."
Jane frowned at him. He was so annoying when he was right. She didn't want him to be right, not when he managed to look so smug about it. But she didn't imagine the President of the United States went out shopping and whipped out his wallet to pay. She didn't imagine he even carried a wallet. And somebody else surely did his accounting for him, too. "All right. But don't think I don't know you did that on purpose."
"Did what on purpose? Pay for my purchases as I always did?" Loki asked innocently, though she was of course correct. He could have paid in counterfeit currency, but he'd thought charging it to his past self and seeing Jane's reaction would be considerably more fun. He was tense; he needed a bit of fun. Once they reached Niskit's home, there would be no room for fun. "Now will you put that thing on? You're already starting to look pink. Besides, I paid for it ninety years ago. It's about time you used it."
Jane immediately looked down at her arms. They didn't look pink to her, but when she touched the skin it did feel a little warm. She glanced up at the sun – suns, plural – and quickly unfolded it and wrapped it around her shoulders, then worked the clasps that looked like they were made of solid gold.
"Good. Can we go now?" Loki asked, since Jane was still standing in front of him.
"No."
"Jane-"
"No. What was that back there, with the 'she's from the Vestmarr Mountains,' and the way that lady reacted? You set me up to treat me like I'm stupid?"
Loki sighed. He'd already forgotten that one. "It's just a stereotype, Jane. One that makes it easier to explain away any strange things you say."
"Because people from those mountains are stupid? Really? More evidence in favor of your 'the Aesir aren't prejudiced' shtick, huh? Or are you going to tell me that the Vestmarr Mountains people really are illiterate country bumpkins?"
"Of course that's not true. Well, I assume it's not true. Vanaheim has strict guidelines on education, just as Asgard does," he answered with a snicker he couldn't quite help.
"That is so condescending."
"Is it now? Why don't we talk about your prejudice against people from the countryside? I don't know what a 'bumpkin' is, but it doesn't quite sound like a compliment. Would you care to explain the term?"
"I am not prejudiced against people from the country," Jane said, caught off guard that Loki had turned the tables on her.
"Oh? So 'bumpkin' is a positive term? And 'illiterate' I suppose must also have a more positive connotation on your realm. Or perhaps you meant it ironically, somehow?"
Jane let her head fall back on her neck, then shut her eyes against the brightness of the suns. "Okay, I give up." She looked back up at Loki, who was watching her with annoying patience. "Maybe I shouldn't have said that. But I don't think people from the country are stupid. My dad was from the country. That lady, though, she… You just should have told me."
"Now you know. But you should have known already that some people in the capital city of a realm will think a probable goat-herder from another realm less savvy, and yes, perhaps even less intelligent, than they."
"Fine, whatever," Jane said, shaking her head. In a field dominated by men, it wasn't as though she'd never had people look at her and make assumptions.
"Now can we go? We wouldn't want to take the last carriage." Loki was certain that would get them on their way again, but he was wrong.
"Not yet. What about what that man said, when we first got here. About you-know-who?"
"It won't be a problem. You-know-who has most likely gone to some tavern to start drinking his way through Alfheim again. He's not going where we're going. He doesn't even know where she lives. The best way to ensure we avoid seeing him is to leave this area. How about it then, hm?" He could have simply walked around her, of course, and he knew she would follow, but playing these little games with her, butting heads with her, really, was so much more fun.
"All right, fine, let's go," she said, abruptly turning and setting off.
Loki watched her with narrowed eyes and the hint of a smile. She was making him follow, the insufferable woman. He followed.
"But no more of this stuff, Loki. Don't ask. You know exactly what I mean."
"I do know what you mean. But I am going to have to relay the bill for the carriage to my account."
Jane almost stopped again but instead grit her teeth and kept going, Loki easily falling into step beside her. She was glad the stone-faced Loki was gone, at least for the moment, even if in his place was the Loki who teased and tested and nearly drove her out of her mind. If the last twenty minutes or so were anything to go by, this was going to be one of the longest days of her life.
Loki focused his attention on schooling his features back to the look of aloof confidence he'd worn before, trying to rid himself of the last vestiges of his smile. He might change his mind later – he almost certainly would change his mind later – but for now, for this particular moment at least, he could not bring himself to regret Jane's presence.
/
Well, they're finally underway! This chapter takes place on Tuesday, June 8.
"usttiger" - there are some wacky stories in Norse mythology! And some really good ones. And kudos to Marvel (Stan Lee?) for recognizing that there are some interesting and colorful characters there to build on - those comics and then the movies are just another form of fan fiction!
"Guest" (ch. 93/94) - If the more chapters the better, then this must be one of the best stories known to man! Ha. ;-) But I'm glad you're enjoying it, and thanks for the compliments!
"ShadowDragonPhoenix" (ch. 58/59) - Penguins in Antarctica yes, at the South Pole no - it's way too far inland, they're only in the coastal areas. Literally nothing lives at the Pole but the few humans. I do think Loki would still say that "even his dead body would rise up" to prevent that shirt from going on him if it had a smiling polar bear on it! ;-)
"Guest" (Nov. 25) - No, Coulson isn't alive in this story. The rumors he was alive (and then later SHIELD TV show) came after I started writing this, so I never conceived of it with him as part of the story. I *could* retrofit that, nothing in here "proves" he's dead, but there's so much plot and so many moving pieces it would be too hard to do, and serve no purpose in the story. But yes, it's ripe for good drama! You'll just have to imagine your own version of that discovery (or write it!).
"Alphabetizingsin" - Mum's the word! There *is* a reason. Thank *you* for letting me know you're enjoying it!
"Guest" (Ch. 7/8) - When you catch up...don't we all feel Loki's pain! That is all Tom Hiddleston, IMO.
"Guest" (Nov. 18) - Thank you so much! Characterization and especially of Loki is so important to me. And I am honored to be the first to motivate you to write a review. Thanks for the compliments!
"Guest" (Nov. 17) - Thanks! And sorry the wait has been so long. Yeah, Loki's take on Back to the Future...I feel Jane on it, he's so aggravating...but he's so right!
No more comments from me, then, except to say a big general thank you to all my readers and followers and favers and reviewers. You mean so much to me! I do hope to get back to what was a 7-day average between chapters before this move business started, fingers crossed!
Previews from Ch. 111: Everything seems to be going Loki's and Jane's way, but come on, this is fanfiction, you know that's not going to last forever; Loki gets testy; Loki and Jane get personal.
Excerpt:
"You always think I have the answers for everything."
Jane's laughter grew. "Me?" she asked when it subsided. "You're the one who always thinks you have the answers for everything."
"Hardly," Loki said, looking toward his window for a moment, though it was covered. But now was not the time to dwell on all the answers he did not have.