Beneath
Chapter Eighty-One – Smoke
By the time Loki got back to the South Pole, it was early evening. He could go straight back to Asgard, to some other time before the trap was laid on the bridge, but he needed to come up with a plan first. And he could do that now, and then go back to Asgard as soon as the plan was hashed out, no matter how late it might be when he was ready – the only difference between day and night here was that most people were up and about during the "day" and most people were in bed asleep during the "night" – but he wanted a break. Walking through the palace again, seeing Thor's chambers, gazing out over the city much as he used to when he was its prince and then its king – it had been difficult. Listening to that florist and walking through the streets of Manhattan the day before had been difficult. His progress was sufficient; he could afford to step back from it, give Jane his time tomorrow per their agreed-upon schedule, and return to Asgard on Wednesday.
He closed up the laptop and started pulling on ECW gear right over the seersucker suit and transforming his hat and shoes out of visible existence. He paused for a moment, noting that somewhere along the way he'd learned how to most quickly and efficiently get on all the layers, including all the things he wore on his head now when in the beginning anything but a helmet or a loose hood had felt quite alien and uncomfortable. He didn't even mind the rough Carhartts anymore – mostly because they worked, keeping his chest and legs warm even in these plummeting temperatures.
He continued back to the Station and his chambers, shed the layers, and changed into a pair of dark-gray slacks and a midnight blue long-sleeved silk shirt. Next he turned to what he'd never dealt with from the day before – the sunglasses, two bottles of Johnnie Walker Blue Label, two gold bracelets in one of the otherwise empty storage drawers under his bed. Less useful than fruit, really, these items were, but far, far more entertaining. If he had the ability to properly secure this chamber without raising suspicion, he would arrange these items for display on his desk, to brighten his day a bit every time he saw them. That wasn't an option, though.
Odin wouldn't approve of how he'd obtained these items, and Loki stared at them for a while trying to determine if he'd be punished for sending them into his own brand of storage. He had no ill intent behind doing so, only a desire to avoid them being seen – especially by Jane – so in the end he decided he should be safe. After all, he'd hidden away the white plastic bag with the receipt for the book he'd bought in this way without repercussion. He knew he needed to be judicious in his flaunting of Odin's rules now, though, after all the punishment he'd taken in recent days, and he shuddered to think what he would see if he tried to change any more of his appearance than his face. Even invisibility – a not-so-dissimilar complex manipulation of what would on Midgard be called electromagnetic radiation, and one he'd first learned in his thirties – was becoming difficult. As for later retrieving the objects he'd liberated from Tony Stark…what malevolent action could he possibly take with two bottles of alcohol? With those two bracelets, though…he wondered if he could use the bracelets to call the Iron Man suit to himself, even at this distance, or if the AI was a necessary intermediary. The protection of the suit did not so much interest him as the ability to fly – basic levitation hardly compared; wrist-mounted missiles, a grenade launcher on his arm, a missile launcher on one shoulder, and a high-powered laser on the other also had the distinct possibility of proving beneficial someday, and being some of the best fun he'd had in ages. That would surely cost him more points in Odin's little game and worsen his constant footache.
In the end he sent the bottles and the sunglasses away, but retrieved from his suitcase in the bureau the knife made from an Einherjar's blade, pulled the sheets off his mattress and propped it up on his shoulder, cut a small slit into the bottom, and maneuvered the bracelets inside. He remade his bed, and now there was no sign he'd ever been to Tony Stark's tower or New York at all, much less eight days ago when he should have been here in Antarctica.
That was the easy part. Now he had to decide what to do with the rest of the day.
His first thought was to simply stay in his room, for he did not wish to put on an act for these Midgardians tonight. His second thought was that another movie would be a welcome alternative, though he wasn't sure about any more of those Indiana Jones ones. The helpless shrieking blond of the second one still left an especially bad taste, along with really the entire story. Then he remembered that Jane had a story for him. More oxen, he thought. No, goats. He wasn't in the mood for some warped version of events from his life in Asgard, but then he wasn't in the mood for much of anything else, either. Though as he thought about it, the bottles of liquid smoke and peat he'd just put away…those he was in the mood for. But he would not be that weak.
You will not be weak at all, he told himself. If Jane has a story, let her tell it. He abruptly stopped his restless pacing. He would let Jane have her fun with her goat story, but he would get something useful from their interaction as well.
/
/
Chicken marsala with crinkle-cut carrots and rice mostly eaten, Jane had moved on to dessert. Centered in front of her was a small bowl with a fresh salad of bibb lettuce, cucumber, and pea pods. The flavors, the textures, the crunch of it was heavenly, and Jane didn't even like pea pods all that much.
"Good?" Macy asked with a laugh. The two were sitting at a round table in the galley enjoying the results of their harvesting yesterday.
"It might just be the best salad I've ever had in my life."
"Wait 'til Mid-winter Day. They'll do something fancy then, and I'll have a lot of good freshies stocked up from the Greenhouse."
"I can't wait," Jane said, mouth full.
"Barely over a month away now."
"Lucas will be happy. He complains about all the frozen stuff."
"He's at the South Pole. Everything is frozen."
"Yeah, I know. He was a really last minute addition. I don't think he knew exactly what he was in for." Jane wondered then if he'd given the environment any consideration at all before following her down here. She'd mentioned it once before, but she wasn't sure she'd gotten a serious answer. "Jane Foster's going where? Maybe my dastardly plans don't really need to involve her after all."
"Hey, speak of the devil."
"Hm?" Jane looked up and followed Macy's eyeline. "Oh," she said, turning back to her meal. Loki had just entered the galley.
"Man."
"What?" Jane asked. Macy was still watching Loki. Or Lucas, she reminded herself she needed to say.
"He's just so hot."
Jane's eyes went wide for a second and she choked on the bite of cucumber she'd just been swallowing. She found Loki again – he was just reaching the food service area and noticed them both looking and nodded before taking a plate. He was, as usual, the best-dressed person in the galley by a long mile, and he wore his clothes well. The vibrant blue of his shirt combined with the black of his hair, in loose waves that reached his shoulders now, created a dramatic contrast with his pale skin tone and framed his face nicely, combining to produce a striking image that, Jane had to admit, probably wouldn't look bad on a magazine cover. But "hot," that was a bridge she couldn't quite cross. In her mind, what Loki looked like was inextricably tied up with what Loki had done. "Physically attractive" was more objective, more neutral, that she could easily agree to.
"Is he, uh…do you know if he's got someone back home?"
"Uhhh," Jane began before quickly popping the next bite of salad into her mouth. Is that why she invited him to come to the Greenhouse yesterday? Red flashing alarms went off in Jane's head. Accompanied by a complete inability to think of an appropriate answer.
"Wait, he's not…you're not…"
"Nooo, no," Jane said, perhaps a little too quickly, then cleared her throat and swallowed the rest of her food. "He's, umm, he's got a lot of issues, Macy. I wouldn't, uh-" Out of the corner of her eye she spotted him approaching. "Hi, Lucas," she said, hoping the little she'd said would be enough to dissuade Macy, who was a really nice person, from taking a romantic interest in the guy last seen on Earth trying to destroy New York and install himself as a dictator.
"Hi, Lucas," Macy said at almost the same time. When Jane glanced her way, she saw her smoothing her hair down – she had light brown shoulder-length hair that went from curly to flat with a layer of frizz, as Macy complained, in the dry air here – and Jane figured that no, "he's got a lot of issues" might not quite be enough. She tried to remember if she'd seen any other signs that Macy was interested in Loki, and couldn't think of anything. Maybe it was just a spur-of-the-moment interest and nothing serious.
"Good evening. May I join you?"
"Sure," Macy said, and Loki thanked her and sat, and Jane cringed. Through Macy's eyes, she could see why someone would be drawn to him. Good-looking, well-dressed, polite. What's not to like? Oh, just some world domination and homicide and a scary amount of rage and then there was that whole trying-to-obliterate-Jotunheim thing… "Issues" really didn't begin to cover it. Jane at least knew what she was dealing with.
"How's your day been?" Jane asked. She hadn't seen him since the morning.
"Interesting," Loki said after a short pause. "And yours?" he asked, glancing at both women before beginning his meal. The salad with fresh vegetables was a nice addition; they did not eat vegetables in quite this fashion on Asgard, but it was far from the worst thing he'd eaten on Midgard.
"Nothing exciting for me today," Macy said. "Yesterday was a little exciting. Sorry you couldn't make it."
"Oh, right. The grand harvest. Did you enjoy yourselves?"
"Yeah, it was fun. You should have come. And my skin feels better, after spending some time in there. My nose, too. I'm really tired of the whole dry nose thing," Jane said. When she blew it, it sometimes even bled a little. It wasn't unusual here, but that didn't make it any more pleasant.
"Speaking of noses," Macy began, and Jane noticed she was really staring at Loki, "yours looks a little pink. Your cheeks, too." Jane leaned over a bit, and sure enough, there was a slight hint of color on the tip of his nose and along the top of his cheeks. It was an unusual sight here now that the sun was long gone and everyone was a shade or two paler than whatever they'd been when they arrived.
"Do they? I was in the Weight Room a little earlier. I suppose that did it," he said, keeping his tone and expression nonchalant. He'd learned long, long ago to keep his impromptu lies as vague as reasonably possible so no one could dispute them; "a little earlier" could be just now or hours ago. It hadn't occurred to him that the sun he'd gotten over the last two days would show after a couple of months in the dark. He'd been susceptible to sunburn as a child – a thought which now gave him pause – but not since he'd come of age. This wasn't a burn, though, he supposed, since he didn't feel anything, just a bit of color he hadn't had before.
"I think I just look paler and wheezier when I leave the gym," Jane said, and Macy voiced her agreement.
"So what was interesting about your day, Lucas?" Macy asked.
"Jane's research yields interesting results every day," Loki said with a glance toward Jane. He proceeded to relate to them both some of the highlights of those results, which Jane would recognize as results from when they'd worked together on Saturday, and which no one outside Jane's line of work would find remotely interesting. Macy tried to follow, though, he could tell, and he wasn't terribly surprised; most of the non-scientists of this group here seemed more interested than he would expect in the minutiae of the scientists' work. It was reciprocal, he supposed; he had been at least mildly interested, at various times, to learn how Macy managed the Greenhouse here, and how Zeke did his electrical work, and how Gary did his machining. "Actually, Jane," he continued when he figured he'd mentioned enough "interesting" things, "I was hoping to discuss the latest group of neutrino collisions we identified, if you have time later this evening."
"Yeah, sure."
"Actually, why don't you guys go ahead? I'm meeting Brody and Nathan for some Xbox. You guys are welcome to come play when you're done, if you want."
"Thanks, but I'm terrible at those games. You all have fun," Jane said, stopping herself before she could tack on what would be her normal "but Lucas, you should go," because she didn't want to encourage Macy. If Loki wanted to discover the joys of Xbox, he could do so without any pushing from her.
"What is Xbox?" Loki asked once Macy excused herself. "I've heard it mentioned several times."
"Video games you play over the television. A lot of them are pretty violent. I was never really into it. I don't know, I guess I spend so much time hunched over computers and data that when I step away from it I'd rather do something outdoors."
"There's not much to do outdoors here," Loki said, thinking Xbox was something he should try out.
"Good point," Jane acknowledged with a nod. "I miss it."
Loki took another bite of chicken and remembered what it was like to have the sun shining down on him in Christchurch and New York. It had felt good, but Jane saying she missed what he'd just had in secret the last two days – the sun, at least, if not the hiking or swimming or whatever else she had in mind – made him uncomfortable.
"Anyway, when you're done, maybe we can go somewhere with a little more privacy, and I'll tell you the story I mentioned this morning."
Loki nodded. Could it really have been only this morning? It seemed much longer ago than that. "I'm done. I've had enough." He'd eaten the salad first, had some kind of fresh thin round bread that wasn't bad, and then just picked at the chicken, the only other thing on his plate.
"Okay, well…," Jane began, thinking through the rooms that might be empty and stay that way. "We could try the Arts and Crafts Room. I don't know about anything going on there." The only other option inside the station was the admin offices, but they felt every bit the offices they were, not the most conducive atmosphere for the relaxed conversation she hoped this would be.
A few minutes later they reached the Arts and Crafts Room, and it was indeed empty. One table was covered with brightly colored tissue paper and chenille pipe cleaners; it awoke a memory of making tissue paper flowers in elementary school, and she thought it might be a great idea for further decorating her room.
"So what was really interesting about your day today, Loki?" Jane asked as soon as the door was closed behind them. She walked over to the tissue paper and brushed her fingers over the thin sheets before turning to Loki, who'd followed her over.
"Astrophysics is always interesting," Loki said. "Now, I thought you had a story to tell me. I've been looking forward to it all day." He pulled out two chairs from the table.
"Not so fast. You told Macy about stuff we worked on two days ago. What happened today?"
"I was going through more of the Pathfinder data. Would you prefer I explained to her what Pathfinder is?"
Jane sighed. Continuing with "I demand you tell me exactly what you were working on right this instant" would sound pretty childish, and it wasn't likely to get any better results. "I guess not," she said in the end. "Story time, then?"
"I'm waiting with baited breath," Loki answered, and sat down once Jane did.
"It's not as good as Thor wearing a wedding dress, but it's still pretty good. So here we go. Not so long ago, you and Thor were riding in his chariot which was pulled by two goats, and you were on a journey and needed to rest for the night, so you pulled over at a farmer's house. To help out the family that was putting you up, Thor slaughtered the goats, but the farmer's son sucked the marrow out of one of the bones, and when Thor got up the next morning, he found-"
"One of the goats was lame?" Loki interrupted.
Jane stared for a moment. "Wait, so this story is true?"
"I'm not sure yet. Keep going." Oh, it's true, Jane. In a way. But Loki wanted to find out what she knew of it before he confirmed it.
"Okay. Well, Thor was upset that the goat was lame, so the farmer gave him his two kids to make up for it. Which is…I really hope that part's not true."
"It's not," Loki said. "The farmer didn't have any children. His wife sucked out the marrow. Continue."
So that means the eating-the-goats-and-resurrecting-them thing is true? Jane scrunched up her nose and gave a shiver, then picked up the story. "You and Thor and the kids continued on to Jotunheim, and you spent the next night being shaken by earthquakes, and you realized the next morning that you'd been sleeping in the glove of a giant named…Skrymir, who was snoring, causing the earthquakes."
"I'm insulted. I thought you said I caused earthquakes. And the shape of a salmon."
Jane smiled uncomfortably. "Different story," Jane said. And not one she planned on telling him anytime soon. Also known as never.
"I've heard enough. Did I try to eat a trough full of meat, and I was defeated by fire?"
"Loki, you've got to be kidding me. This is real? And Thor drank up the oceans, and fought with old age, all that? That really happened? How do you actually fight with old age?"
"Don't be foolish. Of course it didn't happen. It's a poem. A man named Bragi wrote it, one of our most acclaimed poets. They used to sing it around the table when everyone was drinking mead." Loki had found it funny at the time. It hadn't been sung in over a thousand years, though, not to his knowledge, and for good reason.
Jane sat back in her chair as a grin spread over her face. This was a glimpse of Asgard she'd never had before. Thor had told her that poetry was something done for fun and relaxation in Asgard, but somehow she'd pictured something more formal, like the handful of poetry readings a college friend had dragged her to, with lecterns and a silent audience basking in its sophistication and intellectual superiority. The image of Thor and Loki and their friends singing the poetry while raising glasses of mead, that was something she wished she could see with her own eyes. And then she thought, maybe she couldn't quite do that, but she could come close. "Will you sing it for me?"
Loki was speechless for a moment, and marveled at Jane's continued ability to do and say things that left him stunned. "Jane, sometimes I think you're quite competent, even impressively so, and other times I'm convinced you've indeed gone mad. I will not be singing anything for you. Ever. Please keep that in mind for future reference."
"Why not? Come on, it's just a song. I'll sing you a song in return if you want, you can't possibly be any worse than me."
"I didn't say I was bad at it. I said I wouldn't do it." Loki's serious expression morphed into a grin.
"Oh, I get it, you're better than everyone else at singing, too, right?"
"Not everyone. Though apparently I'm better than you."
Jane rolled her eyes and laughed. If she would joke with Thor forever about the unfortunate role of her van in their meeting, apparently she would joke with Loki forever about him being better than her. Then it struck her that she'd put "Loki" and "forever" into the same thought, and that was kind of a strange feeling. "Please? Just a verse? Or stanza or chorus or whatever it's called?"
"When I say something, Jane, I tend to mean it. The answer is no. But tell me, how much of the poem was recorded? Which contests were included?"
"Fire and drinking the oceans and old age," Jane said, knowing Loki was just trying to distract her and letting him do it, though she desperately wanted to hear this story sung. "And Thor tried to lift a cat that was really that serpent encircling Earth, the one that's supposed to be one of your kids." Jane paused to get Loki's reaction, but he only gave a slight frown. "And the farmer's son raced against thought. That's all that's recorded in mythology. Was that all of them?"
"Yes, that was all," Loki said, his chest tightening.
"Wait, if the farmer didn't have a son, who raced against thought?"
"I did," Loki said quickly.
"That makes sense. I wondered why you kind of disappeared from the story after the eating contest. So somebody along the way just thought it would be more interesting to put a couple of kids into the story?"
"I have no idea how any of these stories reached your realm in the first place, much less how or why details were changed. But Thor was always the key figure in such poems on Asgard; anyone else was an afterthought." Loki looked down at the thin colored paper on the table, rubbed the corner of it between his thumb and forefinger. The same type of paper that had been wrapped around the bouquet another customer had been purchasing in New York.
"Oh," Jane said, shifting in her chair. Saying anything else was difficult. She didn't know if it was even true, or just some kind of warped perception Loki had, or his attempt to make the rest of Asgard look bad. But it was hardly the first hint she'd gotten of something like this, and the best thing she could do, she supposed, was just to accept it. "I'm sure it wasn't easy for him to always have the limelight," she said.
"At the time, I didn't mind." At the time, he'd sung along and hoped that something he especially liked was on his plate, for he had little choice but to shovel it in his mouth when his part came, while Thor never minded guzzling from the ceremonial drinking horn and Baldur never ceased to delight in racing around the table as fast as he could trying to outrun thought, at least until he reached thirteen or fourteen and decided it was embarrassing, at which point he just sang along with everyone else and Thor and Loki no longer had to enact their parts either. Except for the drinking horn – Thor had never tired of enacting that one.
"But you do mind now." What changed? Jane wanted to ask. But she'd asked that before, and never gotten a response that gave her any better understanding.
"Wouldn't you?" Loki asked, keeping his face and tone carefully neutral.
Jane met his eyes steadily, and it was one of those moments where he seemed so open before her, and yet he remained so very closed off. He knew she was asking a question, and he was answering it with another question, as he so often did. "I guess I would," she finally answered.
Having expected an argument of some sort, Loki was disarmed by Jane's response. Who in all of Asgard would have said that? Understanding from a mortal. She'd said she wanted to understand; he'd as good as told her not to bother. She didn't know what she was saying, though. She still knew far too little for any true understanding. If she knew it all, understanding wouldn't be much of a priority for her anymore. "I do apologize for ruining your story," he said a minute later with a crooked grin.
"That's okay," she said with a shrug. "This was more fun. But I still just wish you would sing it. One line!"
"Not even one word. Feel free to keep asking, though, since you seem to enjoy it so much."
"Oh, shut up," Jane said, then quickly busied herself looking at the tissue paper. She'd just told Loki to shut up. She stole a quick glance back at him; he didn't look angry, but rather, if anything, amused. She gave him a small smile and looked down at the table again. While she'd never had much of a leash on her mouth, she'd gotten a lot better about it around Loki. Still, strange though it was, even after the video, she felt comfortable with him, culminating in telling a prince – a king? – who'd been trying to take over her planet a few months ago to shut up. Maybe, in the end, it was a good thing, that video, she thought. It was a part of Loki she'd always known was there, in some sense, but she hadn't really dealt with it, and the video forced that card on the table, and forced her to confront it. And she'd learned something new from the whole thing – she hadn't known that he liked "pandemonium," as he put it, but she'd realized it was true, at least what he'd said about that making him smile, and not the suffering of the innocent man he was hurting. It didn't absolve him of what he'd done, but she wasn't sure she'd be able to voluntarily sit in the same room with someone who took pleasure in inflicting suffering on others. "I'm not a torturer," he'd said, looking somewhat offended. She liked to think that maybe, like when he'd choked her in a fit of anger so irrational he didn't even realize that it would have been impossible for her to choke him back, maybe he hadn't fully realized the kind of pain he was inflicting, and what the consequences of it could be. Maybe he realized it now. Maybe he cared now. He'd certainly wanted her to know that he hadn't meant to kill him.
"Are you giving up, then? How unlike you, Dr. Foster." Loki had watched her carefully, how she'd looked a little nervous for a moment, but he wasn't offended in the slightest. She was probably the only person in the entire Nine Realms who could say that to him without offending him. She'd said worse to him and he'd said worse to her and they were still…"friends" came to mind, but that was hardly the case. They tolerated each other, because neither had a choice. And Jane "cared," whatever exactly that meant, but that was before she'd seen that video. He preferred not to concern himself with it. Whatever she thought of him now, things were comfortable between them again, and that was sufficient. Besides, there was something he needed to ask her. Unfortunately, she spoke before he could.
"I'll ask again. When you're in one of those good moods that makes you talkative again."
"There is no mood so good that would make me sing that poem or any other for you. But as I said, do feel free to try."
"Forget the poem. For now. I wanted to ask you something about that story. It never says you and Thor are brothers. Actually, there's nothing in Norse mythology that says you're brothers."
Loki narrowed his eyes slightly. "Go on."
"I can't figure out who's your family and who isn't. There's a family tree in the book I have. It lists a lot of other brothers of Thor, but a lot of them have footnotes, you know, one old writing says that guy's Odin's son, and the next old writing says he's somebody else's son. So it's not like it's even all that internally consistent, but it's kind of weird. I mean, you told me you were adopted when you were a baby, right?"
"Who does it say are Thor's brothers? You already mentioned Hodur. I told you, he's not Thor's brother."
"Oh, I can't remember them all now. But Bragi, I guess it's the same Bragi, the one who wrote the poem with the contests, he's in there, with a footnote."
"Bragi is not Thor's brother," Loki said, relaxing further. These Midgardians from his younger years had an incredibly spotty record with their facts. They'd left him out for some reason without knowing they were correct to do so, but they'd included someone like Bragi, who was about the same age as Odin. "Who else?"
"Ummm," Jane began, hesitating. "There was one called Vidar, and Baldur, and another one starting with 'H,' I can't remember it. Maybe a couple more." She looked up as she said the names, as though trying hard to think of them, but mostly hoping she wasn't going to make Loki mad. If he wanted to bring up Baldur, fine, but she already knew Loki had killed him because Thor had confirmed it, and she couldn't imagine anything good coming of her bringing it up.
"I know a Vidar, but he isn't Thor's brother. Thor only ever had one other brother, Baldur – that one is correct. But he is long dead. I do wonder where those people got their information."
Wow. Pretty blasé. Well, he did kill him. I guess he wouldn't exactly get all worked up about it. Jane bit back the knee-jerk offer of sympathy. She couldn't extend sympathies under those circumstances. But neither did she particularly want him to know that she already knew about that. If Loki could keep a million or so secrets, she figured she was entitled to one or two. "Was he older or younger?"
"Younger. Am I given any brothers in these stories?" Loki didn't actually particularly care what these myths had recorded of him, but he'd rather hear that the mortals thought Tyr or Vafri or whoever else was his brother than discuss Baldur. He suspected, actually, that he was simply cast aside in most of these stories, while everyone else became Thor's brother, because everyone else wanted to be Thor's brother.
"Yes, two. But that's weird, too. The mythology says you're from Jotunheim."
Loki's face froze like the ice that had once been his birthright. "That wasn't the only thing you took that day." "No." But his emotions had run wild then; they would not do so again. "Really," he said as soon as he was able to do so without any shakiness in his voice.
Jane slowly nodded. She'd heard Loki shout, she'd seen rage play out plainly on his features, but now he seemed to be fighting for control of his anger. She'd expected he wouldn't react well to hearing this, given his abject hatred of Jotunheim, but watching something pulling at the muscles in his cheeks and his posture going so rigid and taut she thought he might snap made her wish she hadn't brought it up at all. It did lend credibility to what she'd been thinking about earlier, though. And Loki wasn't snapping, so she decided to press forward. "Yeah, according to those stories your mother is Laufey or Nal, and-"
Loki's mouth had fallen open, but he quickly closed it. "Bring me this book," he said, interrupting her.
"And your father is Farbauti, and there's nothing about you being adopted," Jane continued, ignoring the interruption. "But isn't Laufey the one you said was king of Jotunheim, when I told you the wedding dress story?"
"Jane, bring me this book. Now," Loki said, in the voice he reserved for incompetent servants. He didn't see how it could be possible. He'd come to the conclusion that no else knew the circumstances of his birth except Eir, and probably Heimdall, who'd almost certainly seen Odin's theft from the wastes of Jotunheim. How could the Midgardians have known even some twisted version of the truth?
"Loki-"
"You're still sitting. Bring me the book or I'll go get it myself," he said, his voice growing sharper as he spoke.
"Will you just listen to me for a second? Don't take it so seriously, all right? I know you can't stand those guys, but this is the same book that made half of Asgard Thor's brothers, and says Thor and Sif are married, and so are you, and you gave birth to a horse, and... It's mythology, Loki, not history. They probably changed it all up to make some point, or just to make it a more interesting story. I mean…they would have adapted it to their own culture and beliefs, and then I'm sure some things just got changed over time. So don't go…freaking out over it, okay? Not everything's worth freaking out over."
Loki found himself nodding as his temper began to cool. She's right. Their mythology is riddled with errors. Thrym is the king of Jotunheim; Heimdall is particularly pale. But the things they'd said about him…it couldn't be simply coincidence. He came to a new conclusion: it wasn't. "Whoever related these stories to the people of your realm must have wished to defame me, and so told the most malicious lies he could think of," Loki said. It just so happens that in one case, it was true. "And even here there are errors. Yes, Laufey was the king, and Farbauti the queen. Nal…that is a name I haven't heard since my history lessons. He was Laufey's father, and the king of Jotunheim prior to Laufey. Perhaps the one who made this statement saw it as a further defamation, to say the queen was my father and the king my mother."
Jane nodded because it was the simplest – and safest – response, but she wasn't sure she agreed. She'd wondered the same thing at some point, that maybe someone had just wanted to make Loki look bad, but hearing it from Loki's lips, it sounded more like a persecution complex. And as for the gender switch, she suspected that was just a telephone-game garble. But Loki seemed calmer, and it wasn't like it made much difference, so Jane saw no point in disagreeing. "So, uh, do you still want me to get the book?"
"No. Upon further consideration, I may be better off not looking at that book. And you may be better off not telling me further stories from it." "Not everything is worth freaking out over." Basely put, but not bad advice, Loki thought.
"Okay, forget the book. Although it does have some good stories. So what about real life? Do you know anything about your birth parents?"
Loki stiffened again, but the rage that had burned inside him now merely smoldered; he had no trouble keeping it under control. And he knew Jane wasn't asking these things to press fresh blades into his wounds, even if that was what it felt like. He was closer to dark laughter than an angry outburst, and almost ready to burst into song just to distract her from her questions. "Not much," he said, enunciating the words slowly, at a low pitch that gave them an air of finality. Jane, of course, either did not recognize the tone, or chose to ignore it.
"Were they killed in the Ice War?"
Loki started to open his mouth, to ask what would possibly make her think that, but in that fraction of a second realized that, given the timing of his birth, which he'd already told her, it wasn't such an unexpected supposition. A loyal Einherjar, fighting bravely for the honor of Asgard and felled by a vicious monster on foreign soil. A devoted wife, dying of a broken heart upon learning she would never see her beloved again. An innocent infant left behind by two parents who had loved him, a father who'd never even seen him and a mother whose dying thoughts were for the child who would soon be bereft of a family. And a triumphant Odin, striding home in glory, hearing the lonely, hungry cries of a baby, and doing what that most righteous of rulers must of needs do: take that child under his own arm, to raise him as a prince of the realm his parents had died for.
It was beautiful.
It was so beautiful that, for a moment, Loki found himself lost in it. Would it have been so awful not to be the true son of Odin and Frigga if that were how it had come about? He could have been proud of his heritage. He could have mourned the parents he would never know while holding his head high because of his father's sacrifice. Such a past wouldn't have been kept secret from him, for Jane was wrong – there was nothing shameful about being adopted in Asgard. It was uncommon, and might make you something of a curiosity, but it wasn't an embarrassment. With honorable Aesir blood running through his veins, his whole life would have been different. He would have been different. More like Thor. He might have even been Thor's equal, despite being second born, despite being born from a different womb.
It was beautiful, but it was pure fantasy. He'd lived with lies and fantasies for enough of his life. Jane was still watching him, waiting patiently for an answer. "They did not. I can only tell you what became of my 'birth father,' as you put it. Would you like to know, Jane? You love to ask questions so much, go ahead, ask me. I'll tell you the truth."
Jane frowned. She had no idea what Loki might say, but she knew she wouldn't like it, and oh, wasn't that a familiar path! Turning back and not seeing something through wasn't in her nature, though. "What happened to your birth father?" she asked, her voice full of the trepidation she felt.
Loki leaned forward and whispered, "I killed him."
Jane drew in a deep breath, her shoulders rising and hunching inward with it. She wrapped her arms around herself at her waist. She'd expected something bad…but she hadn't expected that. His birth father, his adoptive brother, over a thousand on Earth, Jotunheim… "Is that" – she paused to take another quick breath – "is that supposed to scare me?"
He considered it for a moment – perhaps, in part, it was. Mostly it was supposed to put an end to this conversation. And if he could accomplish that by frightening her, then… "Yes," he said.
"It's working."
"He deserved it," Loki said, then tightened his jaw in annoyance. He should have left it at that, and shifted the topic of conversation. But he'd felt compelled to say it. Laufey had deserved it, a hundred-fold. Though if he had it to do over again – and he supposed he did now, if he so chose – his final words to that creature would be very different.
"What did he do?" Jane asked, keeping her voice quiet. It was always at least in the back of her mind to avoid saying the wrong thing around Loki, but now it was very much at the forefront.
Loki stared at her and that dark laughter that had been just below the surface earlier finally came forth. He tried to make your entire planet look like Antarctica for starters, Jane, is that enough? You should be grateful. "He breathed. I preferred for him not to."
Jane nodded and couldn't bring herself to say another word. Some things even she couldn't push. The intensity of his emotion regarding his birth father was deathly obvious, quite literally, as was the fact that his birth father hadn't been killed in some simple argument gone too far, but rather in some profoundly personal fashion. Deeply-held secrets remained, secrets that Jane was beginning to believe she'd never learn, and that she was beginning to think that maybe she didn't actually want to know. She no longer feared for herself around Loki, but the darkness in him ran so deep that she was beginning to wonder how much more of it she could take. How many more of these revelations would she have to find a way past?
Still watching Jane's reactions carefully, Loki further calmed himself. Some distance between them was appropriate. But there was a point past which he knew he could not push her, not if he wished to remain in safety here and in Jane's relative good graces. He knew he might have crossed it tonight. "I don't wish to speak of it further, Jane," he finally said. "Is that all right?" He didn't need her permission not to speak of it; he did need to allow her a sense of control.
"Yeah," she said with a jerky nod.
"Good. Then may I change the subject?"
"Um…sure." Please do, she thought, wishing she could think of something else to say herself, but she was having a hard time thinking of anything other than the look of hatred on Loki's face when he said "I killed him."
"I've been meaning to ask about your call to Tony Stark this past weekend. You did speak to him, did you not?"
Jane blinked heavily a few times, surprised by the abrupt shift in topic. She pulled herself together quickly, though. A conversation with Loki was the biggest roller coaster ever made. "I did. On Saturday, right on schedule. We didn't really talk much. He was busy. I would have told you about it if anything…anything you would be concerned about came up."
"You seemed to have plenty to talk about last weekend."
"Last weekend was…he was a lot more worried. He's still worried, but he's calmed down now. And he's got other stuff to worry about."
"Such as?" Loki asked, deliberately narrowing his eyes to show suspicion rather than intense curiosity.
"I don't know, some electrical problems, problem with his AI…he's got some of it straightened out now but it looks like something went wrong with the arc reactor powering his building. It fried almost all of the circuitry and affected a lot of other stuff, too. He thinks somebody sabotaged it."
"Hmph. Serves him right," he said with a hint of condescension that in no way betrayed his glee. If he had successfully caused this, could he not also go back and win the battle in New York in the first place? He pictured Tony Stark walking so smugly over to his bar, to pour his drink while he made play at "threatening" him, all the while going for his little gold bracelets…which Loki would make sure weren't there.
"Maybe," Jane said half-heartedly. She'd thought of it as cosmic justice when Tony first told her about it, but that was before she realized how bad it really was, and how many people other than Tony it had affected.
Neither of them said anything for a long moment, and it was Loki who finally spoke up again. "I should be on my way. I think I'll turn in early tonight. You know, Jane, it would have been a much more pleasant evening had I pretended ignorance and simply let you tell me your version of The Journey and Challenges of the Valiant Odinsons."
Loki stood, but Jane stayed where she was. "Probably so. But that's okay. Life isn't always pleasant." And I'll always try to listen, Jane added silently, hoping he might get the message, hoping she'd be able to follow through if he did take her up on it.
"No," he said, "it isn't."
"Loki?" Jane said, turning in her chair, for he'd already started toward the door. He stopped and looked back at her. "I still want you to sing it to me. The Journey and Challenges of the Valiant Odinsons."
He gave a short surprised laugh out his nose, and a similarly small smile. "You're nothing if not persistent, Dr. Foster." And courageous. Why do you even continue to speak to me? He continued on, but then called over his shoulder from the door, "And the answer is no."
Not until she heard the door close did Jane allow herself to fully relax and slump in her chair. You wanted to ask, Jane, she reminded herself. Now she almost wished she hadn't. Almost. Like the cat, if anything would be the early end of her, it would be her curiosity. She thought back to the different sides she'd seen of Loki in just an hour or so of being with him. Hateful and angry; teasing and serious and clever. Who is the real Loki? Even the writers of the mythology hadn't been sure. She remembered Tony's offhand comment about an apeirogon, a degenerate polygon whose ends can never be reached because of its infinite number of sides. Jane couldn't accept that. She didn't like puzzles that could not be solved. Loki, however, was a person, not a puzzle, and not a mathematical equation. Maybe he couldn't really be "solved," or his ends fully reached. That didn't mean she would stop trying. She'd once joked with Thor that he wasn't a quitter. Neither was she.
Colorful tissue paper lay spread out on the table next to her. Jane wasn't particularly tired, and definitely didn't want to go to bed with these heavy thoughts playing on her mind. Now, she decided, was as good a time to test her memory of how to make tissue paper flowers as any.
/
For Loki in a midnight blue shirt (oh, yes) check out ffnet "blackdewinthemorning" / Deviant Art "jadejadelove" 's art. You can also get to it through my DA page my same ffnet name. Loki should totally drop green and go with this for his color.
Some teasers for Ch. 82 "Kings": We catch up with what's going on on Asgard; Thor's thrown for a bit of a loop; Loki figures out a plan; Jane asks Loki a simple off-hand question and it leads to more answers than she ever expected.
Excerpt:
He arrived, per the summons on the ram's horn, in the expansive Assembly Chamber of the palace, making little effort to hide his foul mood. He was halfway to the long table in the center of the room when he stopped short, realizing to his surprise that the table he'd expected to see no more than a handful of people at was actually full. Only his father's seat, his seat, and one other were empty; Chief Palace Einherjar Hergils was the only advisor missing, and the likely occupant of the other empty chair, according to his quick inventory. Even Heimdall was there, helmet still on, sitting stiffly and looking ill at ease, no doubt anxious about leaving the Tesseract under another's watch.
