I titled this chapter "Milestone." It's the first chapter that's named for me rather than for what's going on in the story. (Though with some stretching you could make it apply there, too.) This is because of Deep Thought I put into how this is Chapter 100 and thus a major milestone. (Albeit one I never intended - or particularly wanted, ha! - to reach.) It has nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that I couldn't come up with a title for this chapter and not wanting to further strain my brain over it.
If you've forgotten how the last one ended, you might want to take a quick look back at the end. And now onward!
/
Beneath
Chapter One Hundred – Milestone
Loki stared at Jane. And kept staring.
He'd tried to anticipate all of her possible objections, and to preempt them with the logic of his argument and his assurances. The need for defense he felt sure she could understand. Defense hadn't been his actual motivation for journeying to Alfheim – offense and the need for freedom and the general recovery of his lost abilities had – but as he'd thought it through to present it to Jane, he'd managed to convince himself as well. Most of what he'd told Jane was true. He did have enemies.
He could not accept imprisonment by SHIELD. Barton had told him what he might face there, during the short time he'd allowed himself to be placed in SHIELD custody. Among SHIELD's minions were those not afraid to dirty their hands. He'd been somewhat surprised that they'd never tried to prize his secrets from him by inflicting pain. Relieved, really, though he'd steeled himself for it – Thor's unexpected arrival had changed the calculus for him there. Loki had counted on the mortals not knowing what it would take to truly hurt him. Let them punch him a few times. He would wince and pretend to bear up under their pointless assault. With Thor involved they'd know not to bother with such things…unless the Hulk or Thor himself did it. No, instead they'd go directly to things that would cause him to suffer. He'd been prepared for that, too – he was no stranger to physical suffering – but that didn't mean he wouldn't rather avoid it. And avoid it he had, for they'd sent Natasha instead…
Then there were the other realms. Asgard's enemies. Asgard's own warriors, men he'd once fought alongside, who would now package him up and send him to Jotunheim if they had their way. He let out a shuddering breath. He would throw himself off a thousand broken bifrosts into whatever unknown abyss swirled beneath them and take his chances there before he would allow himself to be left to the mercy of Frost Giants, he thought. It wasn't, strictly speaking, true, though. His time spent in the void had been horrific and he would never willingly repeat it.
Evading his enemies, defeating them if he could not evade them, escaping them if he could neither evade nor defeat them…it would be difficult without the use of magic.
Of course, he could change it all with Pathfinder.
But first, he needed that curse off.
He blinked, and his unfocused eyes settled on Jane again. She was still watching him. Waiting. He had not anticipated her agreeing so quickly. And given her consistent criticism of time travel, he had certainly not anticipated her expecting to accompany him to Alfheim. In spending an entire day with her on Asgard, his lesson was again more successful than he'd intended. The thought made him wince. "You want to go with me. To Alfheim."
"I don't want to. I mean I do, because to see another realm…but I'd rather see it in the present when I don't have to worry about wrecking up the timeline. You know the possibility of changing things, even when you don't intend to, makes me nervous. And it doesn't seem to make you nervous at all. So I'm going with you."
"To keep an eye on me," he said with a curt nod of understanding. He'd thought at first – naively, he scoffed at himself – that it was out of simple curiosity, and as she said, to see another realm.
Jane gave a frustrated sigh. He was so quick to grow brittle, to cast things in the worst light and take offense. And it was true, sort of, she supposed, but more importantly, she suspected that he behaved better when she was around, especially after today. He'd played his little game with Jolgeir, but that was it. "To make sure you remember to be careful."
"No."
"It's non-negotiable," Jane said, the toughness in her words actually surprising her.
"Who controls your laptop, Jane?" Loki asked with a small, cool smile.
"Who knows where the axes and the ice picks are kept, and where the laptop and Pathfinder are?"
Loki gritted his teeth. "I can move them. Hide them. Make them invisible."
"I can call Tony."
Loki closed his eyes for a moment. "Don't make me angry, Jane. Don't spoil this day," he said, his voice growing ever tighter.
"I don't want to make you angry, and I don't want to spoil this day. It's been…amazing. I don't have the words for how amazing. But if you're making any more time travel trips, I have to know what they are, and I have to go with you. Loki…I understand how strong the temptation is to want to change things. It wouldn't be responsible of me to let you go off on your own like that. Not just you. Anybody. It's like…accountability or something. Besides…don't you want to show me Alfheim?" she asked with a lopsided smile, trying to appeal to what seemed to have been his enjoyment at showing her Asgard…though she got the sense that wasn't going to work even before he spoke.
"I'm not going to Alfheim for sightseeing, and I won't have time to be your tour guide. I have a purpose for going there. A serious one."
"I know. I get that. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to suggest otherwise." Jane let out a frustrated sigh. He didn't want her to spoil the day; he was the one who'd just spoken so disparagingly about being a "tour guide" to her today. She'd had fun. She'd thought maybe he'd had some fun, too.
"You think it would be less of a risk to the inviolability of history if you went with me? What if it's more of a risk? I would have to disguise you."
"You disguised me here."
"I'm not certain how the enchantment works with regard to time travel. I might be punished for it. Heeled shoes and a change of clothes is enough to make you look Asgardian. You're too pale and too short-eared to look like a Light Elf."
"Aren't there any Asgardians on Alfheim? And were you going to make yourself look like you're from Alfheim? Because, um, pot, meet kettle."
"I was going to wear this," Loki said, his voice growing louder in aggravation. She was speaking with an annoying degree of logic and his words sounded like childish excuses to his own ears. And he had no idea what a pot and a kettle had to do with anything.
Jane followed his arm to his finger which was pointing at the grass. She looked back up at him in confusion, then down again and realized he meant the cloak she was sitting on.
"I had another one on Svartalfheim. I shouldn't have lost it," he muttered. It was a little nicer than this ugly worn gray one, too.
Jane clamped her mouth shut before she could ask him, so does that mean I'm going? She had to stay firm. It wasn't a question. If he was going, she was going. "I'm sure we can figure something out."
Loki tried to picture this scenario just as he'd done a hundred times before, at least…only with Jane beside him now. He already knew she could fool the other Aesir, at least if she remained silent so no one heard her manner of speaking. Alfheim was celebrating its new king; there were indeed many from other realms visiting. He would have to explain her presence to Niskit…but in all honesty, explaining things to people so that they believed what he wished them to believe wasn't much of a challenge for him when he committed to it. "I have been planning this for nearly two months. My plans do not include you. I would have to prepare you for it."
"Okay," Jane readily agreed before her brain caught up with her mouth. "Um, what does that mean?"
"Well, Jane," he said, his tone quickly turning pedantic – you asked, my dear, you wanted this – "you see, when I went to Svartalfheim, I thought I would have a simple chat with someone, not unlike what I expect on Alfheim. It didn't go as planned. A fire needle was thrown in my face, my consciousness was transported against my will to another realm outside the Nine where pain was inflicted directly into my mind, I fought two Svartalf warriors and an old friend with daggers and knives and a sword, injuring one and killing the other, and later I nearly had to face down an angry mob, all because someone neglected to tell me that Svartalfheim and Asgard were at each other's throats."
Everything Loki was saying was far outside Jane's experience, and she struggled to truly grasp it all but by the end the words were sailing over her head in a haze. Several seconds passed before she realized what he'd said last. "I said I was sorry about that," she said with a slight frown. The things he'd told her were awful, some of it so awful she didn't want to dwell on it, not now, anyway – but the way he'd said it…he wasn't mad. It was almost like some weird Loki-version of teasing. Teasing with a small side of ego and provocation and I'm making a point here. So she decided not to react to it at all. "And by the way, you probably ought to choose your friends more carefully." Not the part he meant for her to, anyway.
Loki blinked heavily in surprise. No stream of questions about fire needles and realms beyond the Nine? No squeamishness about knives and swords and killing? No anger at blaming her for it all yet again? What she'd said instead was something he might have said. He gave a wry laugh and lifted his right leg from where it still lay over his left and straightened it out before him, at the same time leaning back and resting on his elbows. He angled his head back over to the side, to see Jane looking down and not-quite-smiling at him. "I use the term loosely." He let his eyes drift closed, enjoying the residual warmth of the setting sun. He remembered it with perfect clarity, creeping down the stairs of Brokk's home, seeing his expanded weapons collection and instinctively taking the daggers, approaching Brokk with dagger drawn. He thought of Jane sitting quietly beside him. Perhaps I use the word wrongly. He opened his eyes and there she was, just as before, knees tucked up to her chest. "Anyway, while I might not expect any problems on this visit to Alfheim, you can understand why I prefer to be prepared for them if they occur. And if I permit you to accompany me, you must be similarly prepared."
"For, um…fire needles? And knife fights? I don't know how to use any weapons, and I don't even know what a fire needle is."
"It's a needle that's on fire," Loki said helpfully, following it up with a smirk.
"Thanks, got it," Jane said, rolling her eyes. "So…do you want to teach me some kind of self-defense?"
Loki let himself fall completely onto his back against the gentle slope. His chest and shoulders began to shake, and soon he was audibly laughing.
"It's not that funny of an idea," Jane said when a minute later Loki was still shaking with laughter.
"Yes, it is," Loki said through the laughter.
"No, it isn't."
"Yes, it-" Loki shook his head and pushed himself back up onto his elbows as the laughter faded away, smile still on his face. "Jane. You weigh about as much as a ten-year-old Aesir – I exaggerate only slightly – you trip over your own two feet, and you nearly faint at the sight of blood."
"Lighter means more agile. I only trip when I'm walking on ice, thank you. Have you seen me trip once here in Asgard? Or before we got to the Pole? And I don't faint at the sight of blood, only gross disgusting wounds…or…lots of blood. Or swords sticking out of backs. Come on, Loki, it's not like that's something you see every day on Earth, you know? I can learn how to defend myself."
Loki gave another laugh, shorter this time, more at her determination than anything else. "I'm sure you can. But you're a mortal. One proper punch from an Aesir, maybe an especially strong one from a Light Elf, and your neck could snap. A Light Elf could lie down and let you hit him all day long and he might not even come away with a bruise. As for weapons, I have the sword I took from an Einherjar, and a dagger I fashioned from the blade that was buried in my back. That is all."
"There are axes here," Jane said. "And don't forget the ice picks."
"Made of mortals' materials. They wouldn't do much damage. Like blunted weapons on Asgard. I also have a number of knives repurposed from Midgardian metals. If I put all my strength into using them I would still probably only be able to wound." They hadn't been all that effective against the Vanir warriors Jane didn't know he'd fought, other than in the surprise factor. "In your hands they would be useless. Besides, do you really think you could look someone in the eye and thrust a blade into his heart?"
Jane turned her head, suddenly aware of the two sweet logs she'd eaten in an unpleasant new way. "I don't know. I've never been in a situation like that. I think…if survival instinct kicked in, I could do it if I had to."
"Better to ensure that you don't have to, I think," Loki said, picturing it then as he knew Jane must have. It sickened him almost as much as it appeared to have sickened her, which surprised him. "I'm unafraid of a challenge, but even I would not want to undertake trying to make you capable of defending yourself against the inhabitants of the other realms. No, your best defense is escape. I've made extensive drawings and diagrams of the location I'm going to, and reviewed all of the events I know of that were going on at the time on Alfheim. If you were to go with me, you'd need to know it, too. I know Alfheim well, but not as well as I know Asgard, or even Svartalfheim and Vanaheim. I won't be able to anticipate events and reactions as well as I can here. You may need to act on your own accord."
Jane nodded slowly, pondering it. I can do that, she thought. And it sounded a lot less daunting than Loki teaching her some Asgardian kung fu or something. She winced then. "That makes sense. Besides, the most important thing is to make sure nobody needs to use any weapons in the first place. That would really change the timeline. So let's get started, then."
"Not now. There's something else I wanted to show you first."
"What?"
Keeping his eyes on Jane, Loki lifted his forearm, angled it off to the right, and pointed.
Jane looked up and her mouth fell open in shock. She'd been so busy worrying about Loki's time travel plans on another realm that she'd forgotten about the one she was on now. The sun had set to their left, and in the growing twilight, the sky out in the direction of the bifrost, in the direction Loki pointed, had become a canvas where not just a few odd wisps of pink were visible, but many wisps of different shades of pink, blue, green, plus two crescent moons and brilliant stars with what had to be much greater visible electromagnetic radiation than stars seen from Earth, given how large and bright they appeared even before nighttime had fully fallen. Even more amazing – multiple nebulas, an elliptical galaxy, and two different types of spiral galaxy, all visible to the naked eye in the same portion of the same sky.
For a long time she couldn't speak. She felt like a child again, when the night sky was mysterious and enchanting and whispered of stories hidden behind each star. It was a feeling of innocent ignorance, humbling and awe-inspiring, that she couldn't easily recapture anymore, not on Earth anyway. She had once, not so long ago, on a Tromso hotel rooftop. It made her feel foolish now, in an odd way. She'd been so excited to show Thor that sky, and he'd seemed genuinely impressed by it. But she remembered also how he'd paged through her notebook and seen the Hubble Telescope images – it brought a smile to her lips to remember his mispronunciation of "Hubble" – of things that he'd seen all his life from his own backyard.
"Thor said you didn't have auroras on Asgard. But this is so much better," she said softly, still staring up at the sky.
Loki's lips curled into a scowl. He saw no reason why Thor had to be brought into this. But he'd seen those pictures on her computer, her and Thor virtually conjoined, staring up at the sky. Of course this would make her think of him. He turned from Jane to look up at it as well, pushed those images from his mind, and instead thought back to the auroras he'd seen on Midgard, first while north of Melfort, and then many times at the South Pole. "Not better," he said. "Different." The words were already out before he realized they might apply to more than just nighttime skies. Were the Aesir so much better than the mortals, as he'd been so convinced before? Or just different? The answer seemed obvious – the Aesir were better in every way – and at the same time frustratingly murky. Clarity had been so much more pleasant, so much more reassuring.
Jane nodded, though Loki wasn't looking her way to see it. Just different. She supposed that was so. If this was what you were used to seeing, maybe the blanker canvas of Earth's night skies, and the way an aurora could therefore take it over so much that it was impossible to look at anything else…maybe it was still something special, then.
She turned her attention back to the brilliantly shining stars, many of them so bright she would think they were novas if it seemed remotely possible to see so many novas at once. "I wish I could study their spectra," she said, more to herself really than to Loki. "Stellar spectroscopy studies here must be incredible. All astronomy here must be incredible."
"The Aesir are more likely to write poems about them than study their spectra. And everyone studies their positions to navigate by them in case other forms of navigation are unavailable. They are less inclined to heap numeric assessments on them than are your people."
The thought made Jane smile. What poet wouldn't be inspired by that view? "Do they have names? The stars? They must. I mean…if you don't give them numbers then you must give them names, right? And constellations? Do you make patterns with the stars, and tell stories about the shapes they make?"
"Yes, they have names. Some of them anyway. Perhaps all of them, I don't really know. Do you see that one? The bright one just beneath the hazy blue nebula?" he asked, sitting up so he could point more easily.
Jane followed the line of his arm, and found it easily. "I see it."
"That one is called the Ancestors' Star. It's said that it has always been visible, ever since Asgard's creation. It's one of the key navigational stars, but the stars are not in fixed relative positions in the sky so on its own it isn't enough. It's not part of any constellations itself. Instead it migrates through different constellations, changing the story of the constellation by its presence. The stories are constantly changed, you see. Any poet can try his or her hand at composing a new version when the Ancestors' Star or some other key star passes through it."
"That sounds like a beautiful tradition. I'd love to be able to hear one of the poems sometime."
Loki considered that. A few Bards' Corners were probably going on even tonight; he couldn't remember about this day for certain, but they usually did take place outdoors on festival days, and in the evenings those poems tended to be new or sometimes classic versions of the star tales. Loki wasn't so sure Jane would actually enjoy it, though. Perhaps it sounded romantic to her ears, but the poems were typically quite long and drew heavily on cultural and historical references that would mean nothing to Jane, and often even basic concepts were replaced with metaphorical kennings. And while some of the poetry was romantic, much of it was steeped in battle lore. He lifted an eyebrow. On the other hand, perhaps she would fare better listening to an hour's worth of feeding bluewings and spilling slaughter-dew or battle-sweat than killing enemies and spilling blood.
He was about to ask if she really wanted to hear one when he heard strange sounds coming from behind him. He stilled his breathing and listened. It was Jane's own breathing he'd heard, irregular and… Oh, no. Crying. She's crying. His face set into something hard. That was the last thing he needed. She'd started reminiscing about Thor, and then she'd started missing him and their saccharine-sweet embraces under the aurora borealis, and then she'd started crying, because her beloved was right over this hill, over in the city, walking distance away, but he was eleven years old. "I think that's kind of illegal," he thought, silently mocking her words to him earlier that day. He let out a sigh and tried to steel himself for this. He'd never known what to do with a crying woman, much less one who was crying over his false brother.
"Are you all right?" he asked as he turned, unsure what he was supposed to do about it if she wasn't.
"Yeah, sorry," she said, dabbing carefully at the corners of her eyes with her fingertips.
Loki watched her uncomfortably. Her head was angled up and she was blinking strangely – trying to keep her makeup from streaking down her face with her tears, he realized a moment later. Whatever exactly she'd done to her face, it brought out her eyes nicely, but it wouldn't look nearly so nice if she wound up with dark trails down her cheeks. "Use the cloak," he said. "It's old, but it's clean. Or, it was when I put it on this morning."
Jane took up the dark gray material at its edge and dabbed with greater success. "Sorry," she said again. "I was just…thinking about my father. He would've given just about anything to see this. And I would give just about anything to be able to share it with him."
The tension in Loki's face fell away immediately, and only then did he realize his entire body had tensed up before. That was something else entirely. Not that he knew any better how to deal with it. His instincts told him to turn away, to ignore her until she was done with this, but he couldn't quite bring himself to do it. "Quite all right," he finally got out, the words low and mumbled.
Jane gave him a quick smile, then sniffed a couple of times. Blowing her nose would have helped, but she didn't have anything she could use for a tissue…except maybe Loki's makeup-smudged cloak, and that definitely wasn't happening. He looked uncomfortable enough as it was. The moment of grief had passed, at least, and she gave him a steadier smile, though it was still somewhat forced. Her eyes flickered back up to the sky, while she felt Loki's remain on her. The sun's rays were completely gone now, and she sighed regretfully over its loss, wishing she'd gotten another glimpse of it. Stars sparkled all around, but it was only in that one direction that she felt like she was looking at computer-enhanced satellite imagery rather than the sky with her naked eye.
Loki waited, and thought perhaps he shouldn't ask, but curiosity was overwhelming him. "I would give just about anything to be able to share it with him." But you can, Jane. So why won't you? "You're thinking of him because of the opportunity I gave you?"
Startled that he wanted to talk about this now, she abandoned the sky for a moment to focus on the man sitting in front of it. "Not really. It's just…it's all closer to the surface now. The sense of loss." A breeze blew down the hill, a cool one, and Jane took the ends of the vine-covered shawl that was draped around her back and arms, and pulled it around her legs as well.
"I suppose I…I still don't understand. It doesn't have to be painful, or difficult. If there's some complication in it, in what it would take to prevent their deaths, I swear I'll help you. Why don't you want to do it?"
"I believe you," Jane said immediately. "I believe that you would, Loki." She looked away for a moment, trying to think, trying to figure out what she could say to him to finally make him understand. She'd tried to explain paradoxes, and theories of time travel, and the moral dilemma it posed, and the inevitable power plays that would result from disagreements over which version of history was best, and obviously nothing had gotten through, even though he'd claimed before they came here that it had. "It's not that I don't want to do it. I do want to do it, so badly. Every cell" – she grimaced, stopped, took a couple of deep breaths, commanded herself not to start crying again – "every cell in my body was screaming at me to do it, and a lot of them still are. But…there's so many reasons why changing the past is just a really, really bad idea. A dangerous idea. And you just…you can't always put yourself first. Sometimes you can't do what you want, because you have to think of what it would mean for everybody else. Maybe I would make my life better…and maybe I would make a dozen other people's lives worse. Maybe millions, if it leads to a time war. I don't have the right to do that, to make decisions like that for other people, no matter how much I wish my parents were still alive. And that's even assuming it would actually work."
Loki found himself nodding, understanding at last. She worried that her choice would hurt others. And that was why he hadn't understood it before. Loki felt no such concern. He couldn't let himself feel any such concern. "You can't always put yourself first," she'd said. He wondered if she'd meant the generic "you," or if that had been specifically aimed at him. Because he did always put himself first. He did now, anyway. He'd put others first – especially Thor – for most of his life, and where had that gotten him? If he didn't put himself first, no one else would. Mother did, that traitorous voice that sometimes whispered to him, seeking to break whatever resolve he had left. Yes, he answered to himself, she did. But even those days are now past.
"I understand your decision," he told her. "And I won't bring it up or question it again. It was never my intention to…to cause you any pain over it." You are a better person than I, Jane Foster. But then, that was never in any doubt, was it?
"I know," she said, taking care to meet his eyes steadily. "I know," she repeated. She hadn't forgotten his off-the-rails rant about evil. "It isn't evil to save a life," he'd said. Now, though, it suddenly took on new meaning. She hadn't known then what she knew now – he'd tried to save Baldur's life. And he'd thought she was calling him evil for it. She'd never meant the Pandora 's Box analogy the way he'd taken it in the first place, but now it seemed worse than ever. "It came out of a good place," she said, just as she had about Baldur. "It came out of love," she'd added then.
Loki, too, remembered what came next when she'd said that earlier, and turned his head away from her to look up at the sky again. Don't flatter yourself, he thought to her, in case she was thinking that phrase, or even worse, contemplating speaking it aloud.
Jane watched the back of his head, black hair grown out to his shoulders now, his long lean frame a dim silhouette against the night sky, and wondered what he was thinking. She felt drawn to him in that moment of quiet and dark, in a different way than she had before – not out of curiosity or a desire to help, but the simple need to be physically nearer to him. She wanted to sit right beside him. To put an arm around him again, and maybe have him return it this time. To lean a head against his shoulder. To hear him laugh and see him smile. And as she imagined it happening, just as she started to actually move closer, the smile in her mind changed. The mouth was broader, surrounded by blond hair, the eyes were a brighter blue, crinkled with light-hearted mirth. Jane looked away and reached a hand up to rub the back of her neck. It's late. It's been a long day. It's been a good day. And your sort-of-maybe-could-be boyfriend redefines "long-distance relationship." You just got all emotional and you miss having someone to hold. Someone to hold you back. It was a moment of weakness. It won't happen again. There is no "it." Nothing happened, so there's nothing to happen again.
She looked at Loki's profile again, chest and neck twisted around away from her, and found that the feeling had passed. Mostly. She looked back up at the sky, and soon lost herself in it again.
"Are those crickets?" Jane asked a few minutes later, noticing the low-pitched chirping sound that seemed to be coming from further down the hill, near the brook. "Do you have crickets on Asgard?"
Loki kept his back to Jane and let a smile spread across his face that he carefully kept from his voice. "Yes. Those are the Great Spiny River Crickets that you hear. They're about the size of your fist…well, about the size of my fist, with pincers as long as my fingers and as sharp as blades. When night falls, they begin to migrate away from the water to higher ground."
Jane's gaze snapped down to her feet in her boots and her hands wrapped around the top of them, where boot met leg. Her eyes then darted around Loki's cloak, but the material was so dark that in the dimly moonlit night she wasn't sure if she'd be able to see the crickets-on-steroids even if they were as big as Loki's fists. "Maybe we should get going," she said, quickly rising to her feet, the cloak clutched in her hand.
"So soon, Jane?" he asked, then turned to look up at her, grin widening.
"It's getting late and-" Jane noticed the grin then, and the little brushes against her legs that she was afraid might be giant cricket pincers suddenly stopped. "You just made that up, didn't you?" she asked with an irritated frown. Irritated mostly because she felt stupid for having fallen for it.
"Whatever gave you that idea?" Loki asked with wounded innocence. "Still, you're right, we should go. I don't think this was an all-night festival, and we'll blend in better if others are still out when we are." He pulled his socks and boots on, then took the cloak from Jane's hand and put it back on, pulling the hood up over his head though it would probably be a while before they encountered anyone.
A few minutes after they started up the hill, Jane muttered loudly enough that she knew Loki would hear, "Great Spiny River Crickets."
Loki glanced over at her, then ahead of him again. "Fearsome creatures. But you weren't in any danger. I would have protected you."
"Mm-hm. Remind me to get you signed up for a snipe hunt after the winter."
After the winter? What a strange thing to say. "What's a snipe? Similar to a bilgesnipe? I thought you didn't have them on Midgard." If they did, then he might indeed enjoy hunting one, or its Midgardian cousin, in some hypothetical reality where such a thing was possible for him.
"I've never heard of a bilgesnipe, but a snipe is a fearsome bird. Really hard to hunt. You'll love it."
Loki nodded skeptically. He knew there was a jest in it somewhere, he just wasn't sure which part. It wasn't like it mattered, though. There would be no "after the winter" for him and Jane.
"So how does it all work?" Jane asked when they crested the hill and the city came into full view again. "Why does it look like I'm seeing straight out into space…beyond the atmosphere, when I look out over there, and I see normal stars everywhere else?"
He'd started to try to tell her about this before, but she'd been too distracted adding and subtracting ages and dates and figuring out what happened here in Midgard's year 1000. As he began to tell her about it now, though, he realized how little he actually knew about it, when put into the terms and concepts of her science. Atmospheric differences were easy enough to explain, but Jane's constant "why" and "how" were not so easy to answer. He remembered something about a warping of space caused by the anchoring of Yggdrasil here at its crown, but he'd never thought too deeply about it before. He'd spent his younger childhood thinking the World Tree grew somewhere on Asgard and if he and Thor only looked hard enough they would find it. In his youth he'd assumed the World Tree to be mostly symbolic, for in his lessons it was steeped in metaphorical imagery and its symbolic role was evident throughout Asgard and to a lesser extent the other realms as well, save Midgard, and the rest of his years he'd hardly thought of it at all. Heimdall could perhaps answer more of Jane's questions – though he, too, had always spoken of Yggdrasil in metaphor – and Loki knew precisely where to find him since the bridge was still intact here, but that wasn't exactly an option.
"So the amount of energy the bifrost directs into Yggdrasil…it causes the spatial and atmospheric distortions?"
"I suspect so."
"And that's why…that's why you get those distortions here, but not on Earth, even though Earth is where the 'roots' are supposed to be. You'd think 'roots' would mean a stronger anchor point on Earth. Or I guess, somewhere in the space near Earth."
"You would think. I wish I could tell you more, but we simply didn't study it in that way. Roots – Midgard. Crown – Asgard."
"King of the hill."
"What?"
"Nothing. I just think I see where your superiority complex comes from."
"It's not a complex when it's true."
"Oh, that sounds familiar!" Jane said with a laugh. "What happened to 'not better, different?'"
"I was trying to be polite."
"Uh-huh."
"I was! I told you, I am always unfailingly polite."
"Always?"
"Usually. Sometimes," he said when Jane gave him a humorously skeptical look. "Hm. I haven't been very polite today at all," he said when he realized he was hungry. He hadn't eaten much for breakfast, and he knew exactly what Jane had had since then. "I should have gotten you something else to eat. Something more than sweet logs."
"That's okay. You've already ruined granola bars for me for life. I wouldn't want you to ruin the rest of it, too."
Loki smiled, and they walked on in silence, for they were approaching the first street now and a few people were in sight, their voices carrying in the quiet. It had been a good day, for the most part. Even the less-good parts of it hadn't really been that bad. He had to give a little laugh then – it was actually the best day he'd had in Asgard in quite a while, not that that was saying much. And already, as they skirted the edge of the city back toward the arena, it felt strange, surreal, that he'd been here at all, watched a parade arranged just for him, bought sweet logs for Jane, sat on his favorite hillside with her, told her things that just a month ago he would have sworn he would never speak of and certainly not to her, watched the night sky over the bifrost as he had thousands of times before…but this was possibly the last.
He would have to come to Asgard again, in order to reach Alfheim, but he wouldn't be sitting around staring at the sky then. And no matter what came next, no matter how he did or didn't change his past once the most problematic curse was lifted, he couldn't imagine coming back here to live. He could not undo being born a Frost Giant, the wolf raised in sheep's clothing. And even if no one else remembered the utter disobedience shown to him by those whose loyalty should not have been in question, the rejection he'd faced for his attempt, the farce that he'd orchestrated this war and that he'd tried to kill Thor from behind like a coward…he would remember it. He would remember that he didn't belong, that he was a useless relic, that he would never really be respected even by those who didn't know what lay beneath his outward appearance. And he didn't think he could ever go back to living that much of a lie. No. He was done with Asgard. Asgard could rot.
His thoughts turned inevitably back to Frigga, to whom he had unknowingly owed this day – twice now, in fact. Even if she'd fully given up on him this time, he knew now he could never fully turn his back on her. If Asgard fell, and her life were endangered, and assuming he somehow knew about it, he would do everything he could to protect her. She deserved no less. He wondered, though, what she'd thought would come of him, when she'd encouraged him to believe in himself, to succeed, to develop his talents, even the more meager ones such as the pipes. Didn't she know that someday it would come out? That no false skin could mask what I am forever? How much time and effort, how much love she wasted on me. If she'd known this would be the outcome, perhaps she wouldn't have bothered. He knew though that she couldn't have not bothered. She would have only redoubled her efforts and loved him all the more. Odin, on the other hand… Perhaps Odin wouldn't have bothered…perhaps he would have seen the blue runt and kept right on walking…
Loki shivered and cast off those dark thoughts. Odin had done what he'd done, and Frigga had done what she'd done, and Thor had played his role, and here they all were. It had been nice to get away from the endless night and bitter cold of the South Pole for a day, a nice visit to a dreamland, a short sojourn outside of reality. But that was all that it was. And this, he figured, was probably goodbye.
"I remembered something on the way here," Jane said once they'd slipped back into the tunnel that led to the arena grounds. She picked up her pace – it was creepy in here at night.
"What's that?" Loki asked, easily matching Jane's new pace.
"I left my laundry in the washing machine."
They emerged from the tunnel and paused, while Loki lowered his hood and looked around at this shadow-drenched structure that held so many memories for him, both good and bad. "Do you know how utterly incongruous that sounds here?" he said.
Jane smiled with a glint of mischief in her eyes and nodded.
"Well, I'm sure the washing machines haven't been in such high demand on a Tuesday. And I suspect that the air is too cool and dry at the South Pole for your clothing to have become mildewed in such a short time."
Jane's smile grew and turned to a laugh. He hadn't known much about laundry and mildew until recently; he was drawing on warnings she'd given him just five days ago about leaving his laundry in the machine.
Loki laughed, too. He'd said those words simply for the tiny childish thrill of saying them aloud here in Asgard's arena, over a thousand years in the past, when Midgard hadn't even imagined machines for washing clothes or people living at the South Pole. Probably they didn't know the South Pole existed. He thought he remembered studying that the Midgardians were relatively isolated and ignorant of the other parts of their world then, and that many of them thought it flat. "We should get your jacket," he said somewhat reluctantly.
"Yeah," Jane agreed, starting off toward the arched stone entryway they'd gone into before. "Oh! Let me do it," she said, then broke into a run.
Loki watched her with a smile and decided not to follow. He could indulge her in one more thing here. Their future interactions might not be so pleasant, if she continued to insist on going to Alfheim. You know she will, he thought.
A few minutes later Jane was back out beside Loki, ECW gear in place from the waist up, and very conscious of the cool evening air swirling about her legs, bare underneath the thin pale pink silk. Loki handed her the wrist devices which she slipped into place, then the RF switch that would allow Pathfinder to bring them home.
"So what's Alfheim like?" she asked as she checked that everything was secure.
"I haven't given you my decision yet, you know."
"Yes you have."
"No, I have not."
Jane inspected the bands on her wrists and put far more attention that necessary into getting Big Red sealed up. She figured if she didn't drop it he might put his food down – he might try – out of sheer stubbornness. Yes, you have, she thought. If he was going to Alfheim, then she was going to Alfheim.
"Ready?" Loki asked, finger over his own RF switch, satisfied that he'd gotten the last word. Looking back on it, he supposed maybe he had given in to her. Not that that meant he couldn't change his mind. Or lie, he thought, just as his eyes met hers. He looked away. Or not. She did well here today, did she not? He met her eyes again and gave her a somewhat awkward smile.
"Yeah," she answered with a grimace. She positioned her thumb over the switch. "This is really going to suck."
Loki broke into unrestrained laughter as they both flipped their switches. It took less than a minute this time before they were pulled back, then only seconds more before the cold slammed its jaws down around them and sank its teeth in and Loki's continued laughter accompanied Jane's muttered curses.
/
Two years, eight days, 100 chapters, and one prologue ago, I first started putting this story online. It wasn't my original intent, putting it online. As I've always said, I write this for me. But as I've also said, you are a large part of what keeps me going. I like to think it would be no different if this story had 10 readers and two reviews, but who really knows? Some of you have been there from the beginning, most of you joined in later somewhere along the way, as others have dropped out - some I'm sure just got too busy (free time is a commodity that ebbs and flows), others probably got tired of waiting in vain for some hot Loki-Jane action. ;-) I would get all mushy on how much I appreciate you all here, but I'll save that for when this thing draws to its close, lest I repeat myself.
Drop me a line for Ch. 100, won't you? I told you I'd only specifically request reviews once more, on the last chapter...but that was when I never dreamed this would hit Ch. 100! As Loki told Jane with his trademark sincerity...it's a nice round number!
On the chapter title: I almost named it "Proximity." In retrospect, maybe I should have. Eh, whatever, ha. Anyway, that gives you an idea of the lines I was thinking along.
On artwork: I meant to mention it on here a couple chapters ago and forgot (my memory = sieve), "MrsSwords" created some great art for the chapter titled "Prey," specifically the hunt. You can find it on her DeviantArt page or mine (both in the same name), and if you go via mine, look in my "favorites" to see all the art for this story and from there you can check out the artist's page. Also, if you've had problems with DeviantArt and haven't seen "Isabel M-Ameban"'s art for "Perception," you can also find it on her Tumblr. Use amebanworld .tumblr post /86633206203 /this-is-an-illustration-pic-based-on-the-wonderful, and take out the spaces.
On old Scandinavian literature: At last, in this chapter I got to make use of what my Scandinavian Lit PhD friend explained to me about "kennings." I was geekily happy about this.
In answer to "GoblinCityGirl"'s "where can I find more of your work": On this website, on my computer, in my notebooks, in my brain, and maybe, with some hard work and some luck, someday, a bookshelf near you. Thank you for asking. ;-)
On the projected slowed progress of this story: As I've mentioned, I'm moving (and not like across the street) next month, and will be drowning in stuff that has to get done before then. I hope to keep writing every day, but the quantity will probably be less, and there may be times when it has to fall by the wayside. Just know that this is temporary and does not reflect any waning commitment on my part. Hopefully I'll be set up in my new digs fairly quickly and by September the pace will resume to normal.
All this and we still haven't gotten to previews! OK. Thor is still figuring out this king thing; there's a confrontation that will leave Thor with some thinking to do; Loki and Jane have to adjust to being back on Earth (at least for the moment?); and somewhere in there is a little hint to one of the questions I've heard from a few of you.
Excerpt (after going back and forth on whether to give you an Asgard excerpt or a Midgard excerpt...):
No one had quite gotten around to how they would accomplish any of these things. First Thor would have to make a decision about which route he wished to pursue. He'd quickly come to wish he'd been more specific with what he was asking Tyr, but then, he'd almost as quickly come to realize he hadn't really known exactly what he was asking Tyr. He'd simply felt the necessity of going on the offensive.
He did know they could hardly tie Gullveig to a post and flog him without ceasing until he spoke whatever words would cease the attacks on Asgard. Anger and frustration led to such suggestions, an occasionally selective sense of honor led to them being shouted down, and the resulting sense of personal insult led to fists flying.
