.-.

Beneath

Chapter One Hundred Ninety-Six – Entrance

"Where is everyone?" Jane whispered to Jolgeir. It seemed like a whispering kind of place. They stood in a widened area of a corridor, right outside the Feasting Hall. Other Einherjar lined the corridor, except for at the end, where two stood at either side of the double doors. The guards had saluted them as they passed – Jolgeir, Jane knew by now, and not her – two by two, right fists pounding into left shoulders. The little waiting area dripped silk rather than gold. Four rich red silk-covered divans stood against the walls, each with its dark wooden legs shaped into different animals; Jane guessed raven, dog or maybe wolf, deer, and some kind of fish. She wondered if it was random, or held some significance for Asgard, or for Thor's and Loki's family in particular. After all, if she hadn't met Hugin and Munin, she would've simply guessed "bird" for the one she was fairly sure did indeed have ravens for legs.

"They'll be along," Jolgeir said in a normal voice, quiet but not whispered. "Everyone else will begin entering shortly. The family will enter last, and they don't tend to arrive any earlier than necessary."

"So these don't get used much?" Jane said, gesturing to the closest divan, the one with the deer-like creature with branching horns.

"I don't believe so, no," Jolgeir said with a smile. "But perhaps they should. Would you like to have a seat?"

/


/

Loki watched as Jane sat and Jolgeir joined her, listening without actually listening to a report he'd asked from the Einherjar at the edge of the corridor he'd almost emerged from before stepping back. From his position, he could still easily see her out of the corner of his eye. He hadn't intended to stop. But Jane had made his breath catch in his throat, and he'd had the sudden fear that if he continued on his path without pause, he would have been unable to put two words together coherently.

"Thank you," he murmured to the guard, giving a sharp nod and continuing on, heart still trying to settle in his chest.

She's so tiny, he thought as he approached. Jane had not yet noticed, and though Jolgeir had not yet reacted, Loki was certain he had noticed. Her frame is dwarfed by every Aesir. Yet any who think her fragile – woe unto them! The thought brought a smile to his lips and clearer thought to his head. "Lady Jane," he said when he'd nearly reached her and her head finally turned his way. She stood and turned and in her skirt he caught a glimpse of shimmering silver. Sapphires dangled from her ears, and another dipped perilously close to where he dared not let his gaze fall. He'd barely noticed what she was wearing at the signing, but it couldn't have topped this for turning her into an exquisite work of art. A work of art he could look at, appreciate, but not touch. The perfection of her beauty made it easier, in a sense. This was Thor's Jane. His Jane wore black Carhartts and plaid flannel shirts and old sweaters and only gathered her hair up when she hadn't washed it in a couple of days. Her only makeup, most days, was the Chapstick she swore by to prevent her lips from cracking in the desert-dry air.

"I hardly recognize you," he said, now face-to-face. "Not a red jacket or ponytail in sight."

"Or black overalls or white bunny boots," Jane said with a laugh and a bright smile as she took in Loki's look for the evening. He wore black leather pants, and on top crisscrossing layers of different materials – leather, silk, and something that looked like velvet, all black except for bands of dark green silk that came down from his shoulders and met other bands of material in a long cinched belt of some sort at his waist. Silver chainmail spiraled his shoulders, biceps, and thighs, while black leather bracers went halfway up his forearms and over the back of his hands to his knuckles. Some part of it all, not the outermost layer, again with multiple materials, hung to about mid-thigh like an odd kind of coat, also lined in chainmail along the front flaps, where Jane couldn't imagine it served much purpose other than decoration. Men's clothing here remained a mystery to her, but whatever exactly it was, a dozen items of clothing or just a couple, the dark shades and angular symmetrical cuts suited Loki; he looked dashing, and his smile only added to the image. "You look great."

"Thank you. As do you, my lady. I must say, I do greatly prefer Asgardian fashion to the…'fashion' seems an inappropriate word…the wardrobe of the South Pole."

"Depends on your plans. Soldering in this would be a terrible idea."

"A fair point," Loki allowed. And when it came to spending time outside in temperatures nearing -100 degrees Fahrenheit, he'd grown to appreciate – if not actually like – Big Red and the Carhartts and all those ridiculous things that kept his head and hands and feet warm.

"But do you know the best thing about Asgard versus the South Pole?"

"Bathing for as long as you like?"

Jane nodded over her laughter. "That is exactly what I was going to say."

"I never appreciated my bath as much as I do now. I never imagined it was possible to appreciate a bath that much."

"Hot water seems like such a luxury now."

"Jolgeir," Loki said, turning to the former Einherjar he'd not yet acknowledged. "Thank you for escorting Lady Jane tonight."

"Of course, my prince. It's a duty so pleasant it's no duty at all."

"Jolgeir's been great. Um…could you give us a few minutes?"

"Certainly," Jolgeir said.

Jane watched as he turned back the way they'd come, and somehow signaled the guards, who fell in line behind him and soon disappeared from view.

"Is everything all right?"

"You're asking me? That's my question for you," Jane said, back to whispering now. "I was so worried for you, and I had to just stand there. What did she say to you?"

"Nothing of consequence," Loki said, then hastily threw up a sound barrier, tied to the doors behind Jane and the walls to their left and right. "I promised her a document when I was on Jotunheim. One in which I officially foreswear any claim to the illustrious Jotun throne. She wants the document. She wants it so badly she left without it."

"I don't get it," Jane said when Loki didn't explain.

"I have underestimated her at every turn. She didn't come here to disrupt the ceremony, or to try to convince everyone that Jotunheim has embraced peace, or to start a war. She came here to observe and to learn. And she accomplished her objectives. She says she wants that document, and she does, but she's in no rush to get it. She has time. It's evidence, you see. Evidence of who I am. Useful for that blackmail Odin mentioned. She wants it for insurance, when 750 years have passed and our little agreement comes due. I didn't sign or swear anything about that agreement."

"You…weren't planning on keeping up your end of it?"

"Of course not. I'm not going to permit Frost Giants to go traipsing across the cosmos leaving frozen wastelands in their path. Three quarters of a millennium is plenty of time for something to change, to find some way around the agreement."

That sounded like a dangerous game to play, a game that might invite another war, but Loki could wrestle with that another day. Another century, she thought with a quick shake of her head. "Do you have to give her the document?"

"I've been thinking about that. But she was standing right there, making insinuations in front of everyone. I saw her speaking with Thor; I'm sure she did the same with him. 'They're protective of you,' she said. My mother, perhaps. But otherwise? Less protectiveness toward me, more desire to avoid trouble at the ceremony. Trouble in the realm, if the Aesir found out who used to be second in line to their throne. She bought a very tired lie. Ultimately, it doesn't matter what precisely they wanted to protect. Their behavior only gives her more power regardless. If she doesn't get what she wants, her insinuations will grow bolder. She doesn't even really need that document. She just wants something physical, and perhaps she was even telling the truth when she said her sons wanted it. She need only accuse. The timing is all in her favor. I was born ten months after Thor. Aesir pregnancies are ten months. It's exceedingly rare for two to be born so close together. Perhaps impossible, even, now that I know Thor and I were not counterexamples. And at a time when Odin was away fighting the Ice War most of the time…and I don't know how they convinced everyone that Frigga had given birth to me. She would have been seen earlier that same day, the day I was supposedly born, looking decidedly not ten months pregnant."

His gaze grew distant as he thought back. "She always said they hid me, before I was born. Because I was special. Because she was ruling at the time. Magic, to disguise her belly. I suppose that's how. People used to tell me I was Asgard's biggest surprise. My mother had to spin a tail for them, and later for me, to explain why I surprised them. And she told me I was born early because I wanted to be here to celebrate the victory with everyone else. Lie upon lie upon lie.

"Even without the document, all she has to do is accuse, and the oddities of the timing are sufficient to raise difficult questions," Loki said, dragging himself back to the present. "I have no doubt she'll cause trouble if I don't give it to her. There will be other, more important battles later. This one isn't worth fighting."

"Okay…can I say something?"

Loki made a face. "I'm not sure I want to hear it, if you feel you must ask first, but go ahead."

"I talked to Thor after the ceremony. He was worried about you. Not Asgard. You."

He huffed a breath. "Then his priorities need some adjustment."

Jane closed her eyes for a few seconds. Sometimes Loki really made her want to scream. "So he's wrong if he's not concerned about you, and he's also wrong if he is concerned about you?"

Loki frowned, narrowed his eyes, and bit off a harsh response. In truth, he realized, he had given that impression. More than given that impression, he'd said that, more or less. But he didn't care to think about it. "Yes," he said with an impudent smile, as though there was nothing in the Nine Realms wrong with it. He twisted his hand and the sound blanket fell away. "Jolgeir!" he called, now smiling serenely at Jane.

Jane gave him a pained smile back, but the discussion was over now, and she wasn't sure what more she would have said had he not dropped his sound barrier anyway.

"How much time do we have?"

"Huskol's arrived. The new Chief Palace Einherjar. I'd say five minutes, ten at the most, assuming no unexpected delays."

"Perfect. Just enough time to address a question Jane had earlier."

"Ummm," Jane said, trying to think back on what she'd asked that Jolgeir, not Loki, would have the answer to.

"How fleeting your memory is. Jolgeir, Lady Jane once asked me a question about the Einherjar, and while I attempted to answer, I believe I even said at the time that it would be better to ask an actual Einherjar, such as yourself, since you can answer from personal experience."

Jane looked at Loki with undisguised confusion, then caught the mischievous spark in his eyes, with his otherwise politely neutral smile, and knew. "That's okay, actually, I think you answered well enough. We should probably head on in."

"Don't be shy, Jane. Now is your opportunity. Jolgeir will be happy to answer your question."

"Yes, of course," Jolgeir added. "What can I tell you? If, ah…if it's about my arms, you needn't worry. As I said there's no shame in it, and I don't mind questions."

"No, that's not it," Jane said quickly. And now she had no choice, because her response had sounded like one of those 'the lady doth protest too much' reactions. "It's silly. A lot of stories about your people were recorded on Earth a long time ago as part of a mythology. From your perspective, not that long ago, I guess. The stories were passed on orally for a while before they were written down, and I assume the details got muddled over time. So they get some things right, but they get a lot of things wrong, too. And they…well, they say a few things about the Einherjar."

"I'm proud to know it. I'd love to hear those stories. And I see, you wish to know whether they're accurate, what they say of the Einherjar? I've served the throne as an Einherjar since several centuries before the princes…now the prince and the king, before they were born. I'm certain I can answer your questions."

Jane slid a sidelong glance over to Loki, smiling innocently at her side. This was embarrassing. Jolgeir probably thought the story in question was about the brave, heroic exploits of Asgard's soldiers. Jolgeir, she thought, would probably be a good sport about it, but still! "Well…according to mythology, the Einherjar are actually dead."

Jolgeir looked confused. "It says that we all died in some great battle?"

"No. Not that you died. Just that you're…dead."

Another moment of silence passed. "Before we fight?"

Jane nodded, grimacing.

"That one's easy enough, then. No, we're not dead. I am not dead, I assure you, and my wife and daughter are grateful for it. Perhaps there's meant to be a kind of…what do they call that…a metaphor in it? We are prepared to die for Asgard if needed, for its king and its royal family, but we do our best to ensure the enemy dies instead."

"Yeah. I know now that you're not actually dead. Loki did tell me that. Well, he told me that he thought being dead would disqualify you from becoming an Einherjar."

"He's probably right," Jolgeir answered with a chuckle. "What else?"

"Okay," Jane said, feeling better about all this now. Of course Jolgeir was being a good sport about it, and unlike Loki, he answered her seriously. "The stories also say that you drink mead."

Next to Jane, Loki couldn't help grinning. She was setting it up just as he would.

"Now that is an accurate statement. We drink mead and we drink it copiously. When we aren't on duty, of course. A sweet fire that emboldens and inspires."

And lowers one's intelligence considerably, Loki thought, suppressing an eyeroll.

"The stories say that you drink it from a goat."

Jolgeir was looking stymied again, so Loki held up a hand and mimed milking a goat.

Jolgeir's eyes grew wide, and Jane saw a blush blooming over his ears and cheeks, disappearing into his beard, as he glanced between them. "I find myself wondering if it's truly the grown Prince Loki before me or his thirteen-year-old shadow. I can't imagine what this poor woman has had to put up with," he said, eyes fixed on Loki, before his mouth pulled into an almost rakish smile. "From a goat? Really? Directly?"

Jane gave a little shrug and nodded when he looked her way again.

"You know, if such a story were true…that goat would be the most prized of his kin in all of Asgard!" By the time he'd finished speaking he was laughing hard. He craned his neck before turning back. "May I?"

"Sure," Jane said.

"Huskol!" he called, swiveling around again. "Come, you have to hear this."

A head stuck out around the corner down the corridor. "They're coming."

The other Einherjar, who'd withdrawn earlier when Jolgeir stepped away, reemerged and took up their positions across from each other along the corridor again, including the two at the doors.

"Another time. Lady Jane? Shall we go?"

"See you inside," Jane said, flashing Loki a smile. She and Jolgeir approached the doors, and the guards opened them in perfect unison.

/


/

"They" were not coming, Loki quickly learned. Only Thor. Awkward. If he'd thought of it half a second sooner, he would have ignored the protocol he'd agreed to and left right on Jane's heels. It was going to be awkward regardless of who showed up first before his entrance, though, and it would continue to be so throughout the evening. The feast had been his idea, so there was little point in being overly aggrieved.

"Loki! You're looking well. Ready to finally relax and enjoy yourself a little?"

"I don't know about that, but I am curious to see what the cooks have managed to put together."

"I'm sure they'll make our mouths water. Geirmund made sure our supplies were carefully managed. Loki…we don't have much time now, but…sometime tonight, there's something I want to talk to you about."

"You sound serious. Tonight is not the time for a serious talk. And actually, I thought I made it clear that I was done listening to you talk."

"It's not about that. It is, I suppose, but not really. It's…let's just try to find a moment alone," Thor said, finishing up quickly for he could already hear footsteps approaching, and they were approaching rapidly.

Thor was obviously waiting for a response, hoping for a positive one and readying an argument in case of a negative one, but Loki ignored him and waited for Odin and Frigga to round the bend. They both looked tense, when as far as Loki knew, they had no reason to be. He tensed in response.

Odin caught the eye of the nearest Einherjar and with a slight motion of his head – the Palace Einherjar knew his gestures well by now – they began peeling off.

A pity, Loki thought. They should have just stayed away the first time. "What's wrong?" he asked as Odin turned to verify that they were alone in the corridor.

"Unfinished business. I'm told Vafri intends to investigate the earthquakes. He spoke with the Dark Elves at the signing ceremony and confirmed that they, too, had unusual earthquake activity."

"But we haven't had any more earthquakes here, not since…the…"

"Do continue, Thor," Loki said sourly.

"And we only had the one that was felt," Thor said, casting a frown Loki's way.

"There was another while we were all on Midgard," Odin corrected. "Perhaps even at the same time as the one there. But none since then. Have you met with Vafri yet?"

"Yes, about other topics. Food supply. Restoration of the land. Not individually, and not about earthquakes."

Odin nodded. "It hasn't been his priority, and it won't be until food supply is on track again. But when he raises the issue, you need to be prepared to discourage him from pursuing it."

"How? I can't tell him why."

"I was under the impression that you had thought the earthquakes were caused by all the portals the Dark Elves were opening," Loki said.

"That's true, but now we know that wasn't the case," Thor said.

Loki rubbed a hand briefly across his mouth. "We know that. Vafri doesn't. None of the rest of them do. No need to investigate, Vafri, we've got it all figured out," he said in the voice of a cheerful, self-assured – if somewhat patronizing – leader.

"Do you understand what you're suggesting, Loki?" Odin asked.

"I believe I do. It isn't that complicated. I know you've done it a time or two." His gaze slid to his mother, whose arm was wrapped around Odin's. "So have you," he added. "It's called lying."

"That isn't what I meant."

Loki's gaze this time followed Odin's to Thor, who was looking extremely uncomfortable. Oh, Loki thought behind a heavy blink. It wasn't Odin who would have to speak this lie, and not just speak it but sell it; it was Thor. And Thor was only good at lying when he didn't know he was doing it, or had at least convinced himself somehow that it wasn't a lie.

"It's just as your father said," Frigga said to Thor. "There are other priorities right now. Tell Vafri that you and Odin have discussed this, and you feel confident that the earthquakes were tied to the excessive use of the Svartalf portals. Tell him to wait and see if there are more tremors, and if not, then there's no need to invest precious resources into such an investigation. It's a simple misdirection."

"The best kind of lie," Loki said, looking at his mother in a new light. "And all for the greater good." Her mild look of chagrin didn't even bother him. She was right; she could handle his anger, and whatever else he might be feeling, too. It didn't mean he didn't love her, and she knew that, even if what he felt right at that moment wasn't love. The realization made him feel oddly distant, an unpleasant needling sensation of both belonging nowhere but here, and belonging anywhere but here.

"You were the first to suggest it, Loki," Frigga said. "If you have another idea…we welcome it."

"I suppose there's always the truth."

"Knowledge of that truth once nearly destroyed Asgard and all the Nine Realms with it," Odin said.

"Well then…good luck," Loki said, clapping Thor hard on the back and turning to go. It was Thor's problem, not his, and Odin and Frigga had been hurrying to catch Thor, not him. With any luck, he could liven up the evening – his version of livening it up – by ensuring that Thor got to deal with it tonight, instead of at some later meeting that Loki wouldn't be there to observe and laugh at.

/


/

Thor watched Loki go with a sinking stomach. He wondered if he'd said something wrong, but he thought he hadn't said much at all. Perhaps he could have said something more. It had probably been a millennium, though, since he'd understood much of what went through Loki's head. Somehow he was going to have to find a way to show Loki he could be a better brother. Somehow he was going to have to find a way to be a better brother. How Loki responded was up to Loki. Thor could only be responsible for himself. But he clung to the memory of the two of them laughing over the idea of Loki birthing Sleipnir, the reminder that those familial bonds were still there, whether Loki persisted in denying it or not.

He looked up to find his mother and father watching him expectantly, and felt guilty because he'd been rehashing old thoughts about his disaster of a relationship with his brother instead of the even worse thought of standing up before his people, looking them in the eye, and lying to them. His eyes drifted closed and he let out a long, deep breath.

"The throne can be a lonely place, Son. Because of it you will have knowledge that cannot be shared, sometimes not with anyone. Recall that when I learned this secret we now speak of, I did not share it even with my wife, who I trust above all others. And you cannot simply say, 'I know something you do not. You must simply trust me.' The people will wonder, and they will worry, and they will whisper among themselves. The king is a voice of strength, and reassurance. You must reassure them. Allay their concerns. Loki's sarcasm aside, sometimes a lie is for the greater good."

Thor nodded, if reluctantly. It was true, at least, that there was no more cause for concern from earthquakes. If he could think of it that way, perhaps he could manage it without looking like a fool and feeling like a fraud. As for the lie Loki was referring to, Thor wasn't about to let himself get drawn down that path right now; he'd had nothing to do with that one, thankfully, other than being lied to right along with Loki.

His parents moved past him, then, Frigga with an encouraging smile and a quick squeeze of his arm, and he noticed something he hadn't before. "Father? You aren't carrying Gungnir?"

Odin paused, cocked his head. "It's a feast. War is over. And you are king. I thought I might lean on my wife tonight, should I need any support."

Thor nodded again and was left alone in the waiting area. His father hadn't brought Gungnir, which meant most likely he'd left it with Hergils for safekeeping. Because his father also hadn't given it to him, despite the continued affirmation that he was king. He wasn't even sure he wanted Gungnir now, but still it felt like a snub not to be given it. A lack of confidence in him, or a lack of approval.

The beginnings of anger rose in him, but not at Odin. If Loki hadn't said what he'd said – hinting that Thor wasn't really king without Gungnir, that Odin would reclaim the throne at the first serious disagreement – then he wouldn't be twisting himself up inside with all these doubts, wondering if his father truly found him worthy of the throne, and of the name Odinson. He remembered Loki berating him for saying how alone he'd felt, left in charge without his father or his brother to turn to. But he had felt alone, constantly questioning himself and whether his decisions were right. And now he still didn't know. Odin had been silent on so many things; what did he really think of Thor's rule during the war? Loki's tongue dripped poison sometimes. Thor wondered again if Loki had been trying to turn him against their father. Odin hadn't been a perfect father, Thor know that now, but…

But he knew that now. That noxious little ball of uncertainty and insecurity…it was something new for him. Something he'd only really experienced since becoming king, especially after Jormik's death, a couple of months ago. A handful of times since his father woke and turned a critical eye on him when his confidence was not the unflagging thing it had been all his life. A handfulof times…

"Do you hold Loki in less regard than you do me?" It wasn't an easy question, not with everything Loki had done since he'd found out his true parentage, Thor understood that. But regardless of how hard or easy it was, looking back, Odin had never quite answered it. And what did that mean? "With you I have a tendency to see the best." His father had immediately denied that he'd meant to imply the opposite of Loki. Even if he hadn't intended the opposite, though, he'd clearly intended a contrast.

This feeling he had, this gnawing feeling he'd had a handful of times…had Loki felt it his whole life? Thor hadn't seen it. But there was so much he hadn't seen. He remembered that confrontation on the bifrost, his life turning upside down yet again. Loki snarling about wanting to be his equal. About proving he was a worthy son.

He dropped his head, rubbed at his forehead. Loki blamed him for it. Of course he did. One of the many pieces of kindling that had fueled Loki's rage against him. And Thor couldn't even honestly say it wasn't his fault, not when he'd so blindly – happily – enjoyed a confidence in his place that Loki hadn't felt in his own. If Loki ever had tried to confide in him about this, Thor had no memory of it. He probably would have punched Loki in the shoulder, rolled his eyes. Made a jest at his expense, about his imagined slights.

His head snapped up again. Perhaps…perhaps, if Loki was willing to listen, perhaps he could confide in Loki about his own feelings, his self-doubt in the face of Odin's judgement. Loki would probably roll his eyes and make a jest. But maybe, if he could say it the right way, maybe they could come to a place of understanding. Maybe Loki would speak to him sincerely, as he had in a couple of too-brief bursts now. Maybe it would be a step back toward brotherhood, and to the days when they confided in and supported one another.

"What are the odds that I will say it in the right way?" Thor mumbled to himself, shaking his head. And the timing was awful. Tonight was for celebrating and making merry, not for serious conversations that he feared were doomed to failure. After tonight, he wasn't sure how much time he had left before Loki disappeared again.

"Huskol!" he called. The king was never really late, but the plan had been for him to enter shortly after his parents, and by now curious eyes were surely pinned on the doors.

"Ready, Your Majesty?" Huskol asked once he reached the doors.

Thor nodded. Merry-making. Revelry. Celebration. Peace. Jane. Thinking of Jane helped lighten his mood. On the other side of the doors, the trumpeters responded to Huskol's signal and began their fanfare.

/


/

On the other side of the doors, it was loud. The first thing Jane noticed. The second, it was crowded. Much more crowded than anywhere else she'd been on Asgard, if you didn't count the Harvest Festival, and that had been outdoors. Since early February she'd been living in a place that was home to just 49 other people, who were almost never all in the same place at the same time. Here there had to be over 500 guests –some already seated and some still milling about – plus the trumpeters, guards, and servants. She was a little taken aback by the cacophony; clearly when Jolgeir had walked her through here earlier, the tables hadn't all been set up yet.

The moment of surprise passed, though, and her faltering steps picked up to stay at Jolgeir's side. Above her, hundreds of candles flickered on each of the chandeliers of tiered concentric metal rings, and actual torches burned from the wall behind her. Red sheers – Thor's red, she thought – fluttered in the breeze from the balconies on the opposite wall. All around her was a steady indistinguishable roar, until to her left she made out two clear words.

"Found you!"

Jane turned to find a heavily bearded face split by an enormous smile, and two arms open wide. She laughed and let Volstagg draw her into a bear hug.

"I thought you might remember that. I'm so happy to see you, Lady Jane! We'd heard you were here, but we never even managed to catch a glimpse of you until now. I suppose Thor wanted to keep you all to himself."

"Not quite," Jane said, pulling back to see Hogun and Fandral at Volstagg's side. "But I have stayed busy, which has kept Jolgeir busy, too. But please, all of you, just Jane, okay?"

"Of course! And I'm sure Jolgeir isn't complaining, to have such an extraordinary guest to escort on Thor's behalf."

"Not at all," Jolgeir agreed with an easy smile.

"It's good to see you again, Jane. You look well," Hogun said.

"Thanks. It's good to be here," Jane said as Fandral was taking her hand.

"Well?" Fandral repeated. "Don't listen to him, Jane. You don't look well. You look radiant. You look, dare I say, delectable." He drew her hand up and kissed it.

"I wouldn't when Thor's around," Volstagg murmured, with a wink at Jane when she looked his way.

"Jane, I trust you know I speak without intent, not even to flatter. When a woman arrives looking especially beautiful, it simply must be acknowledged."

"And when she's especially smart?" Jane challenged.

"That, too, of course!" Fandral said, not missing a beat. "Thor regaled us often with tales of brilliant Lady Jane who studies the stars far beyond her own, builds wondrous machines of her own ingenious design, and stands fearless before her intellectual enemies."

Jane couldn't help it; she was impressed. Even Hogun, who hadn't said much back when they'd first met in Puente Antiguo, was cracking the beginnings of a smile.

"Welcome to Asgard, Jane Foster," Sif said, approaching from behind the Warriors Three who parted for her. She wore a gown of peach and gold, with gold seashell-shaped clips in the long black hair she wore down, and gold bracers on her arms. Jane wondered if hers were ceremonial or functional and thought if she had to bet, she'd lay her money on functional.

"Thanks. I've been looking forward to this evening."

"As have we all," Fandral said.

"Oh! Just one, ah…Gudda! Join me for a moment, won't you?" Volstagg called; a plump blond-haired woman looked up from the little girl she'd been bent over. He waved her over with his hand. "Lady Jane Foster, this is my beautiful and long-suffering wife Lady Guddrid Vidfasturdottir. And three of those little scoundrels running around over there are ours. Two of them are old enough to behave like civilized Aesir, and ah, no offense meant, Jane, like civilized people, I should say."

"Ignore him, Lady Jane, it usually works for me. The youngest is at home with my sister. Six in all. On Asgard we're famous for it."

"I'm sorry, dear Jane, I was confused in my introductions. I am the long-suffering one."

Guddrid gave Volstagg a good-natured shove, followed shortly by Fandral, who gave him a shove from the other side. "It's such a delight to meet someone from Midgard," she said. "I never imagined I would. I have so many questions! I know your realm is large and you can't speak for all your people, but, do you mind?"

"Go ahead," Jane said, just trying to keep up now, because she'd barely gotten the words out before the first question came.

"How old are you, approximately?"

"Oh, yes!" Volstagg said, eyebrows rising. "We asked Thor, but he said he didn't know."

"Um…thirty-one. And ten months. Approximately." She knew where the question came from, but it was still weird, and generally not the first question someone asked you once you were past childhood. The silence that followed, though, was weirder. Until she realized they were waiting for her to tack on some more numbers. More years. "No, really. Thirty-one. Years." She had mixed feelings about crossing the big three-oh, but she'd never felt younger than she did right now.

"But you…you look so much older!" Volstagg exclaimed, despite what looked like a heavy smack in the arm from his wife on the last word.

"What my friend meant to say," Fandral said with a dip of his head, "is that you appear a flower bloomed into its prime, petals unfurled and eager to embrace the fullness of all life has to offer."

Jane laughed; she was going to try to remember that one, when her next birthday came around. A flower bloomed into its prime. "It's okay. I know we have different lifespans. I know thirty-one sounds like practically a child to you. All grown up on my world."

"Not a child," Sif corrected. "But barely legal. You look to be near my age, but I'm…around a thousand and forty now."

"Legal in all fifty states," Jane said with an awkward laugh, to various looks of confusion.

"Fifty countries?" Guddrid asked a moment later; the confused looks of the others turned to ones of surprise and understanding.

"I thought you had more than that," Sif said. "They must have consolidated since I had my studies."

"Hundreds," Hogun said with a nod.

"Thousands," Fandral said.

"Just hundreds these days," Jane said, a little embarrassed that she had no idea what the actual number might be. "I meant my own country. Fifty states in…uh…"

Jane turned, following everyone else's eyes, to see Loki emerging from the same doors she'd come through earlier. His expression was stern, his strides long, determined. He made it to the head table, but not to his seat, before someone approached him and drew him into conversation.

"You were really trapped with him, for months?"

Jane turned back to Sif. "Um. I guess some of the time it was like being trapped, but-"

"You poor dear!" Guddrid said.

"You must have been under such a strain," Fandral said. "Loki can be quite fearsome when he's in a poor mood. So can Thor, of course…but Loki is different. And he's been in a very poor mood for a while now, ever since we went to Jotunheim."

"Thor said you became friends, you and Loki," Hogun said.

Jane nodded before she could get any words out, grateful for what seemed a lifeline. She didn't think she was imagining Jolgeir's discomfort beside her, and wished he would speak up, too. Maybe he didn't think it was his place. It was her place, but she wouldn't have cared if it wasn't. If only she could tell them why he'd been in a "poor mood" ever since Jotunheim. "We did. He's become a good friend."

"You know that he was behind what happened in Puente Antiguo, don't you? The Destroyer?" Sif said, her voice dropping to a near-whisper.

"And the later attack, after we thought he'd died," Fandral added just as quietly.

"Yeah, I know. He made mistakes. Big mistakes. From what I've heard, he's not the only one." Jane caught a couple of nods, but no obvious guilty looks; she wondered if any of them realized their own mistake, and whether they felt any regret over it. "But once I understood that it wasn't my job to try to rub his face in his mistakes…and of course by that time I'd gotten to know him and I knew he wasn't going to do anything like that again…that's when things started to change. It wasn't overnight, but we became friends despite everything that happened before." She was conflating the timeline – she hadn't been so sure he wasn't going to attack again back when she'd first tried to change her approach to him – but their friendship had developed so gradually, intertwined with so many events she couldn't tell them about, that it seemed the easiest way to put it.

"How can you be so certain of his intentions?" Fandral asked. "I myself…I'm not sure what to believe anymore. I want to believe the best, but after everything that's happened…that's not easy. Loki doesn't make that easy."

"You must be wary of him, Jane," Sif said. "Thor told us that he tracked you down, tricked you into believing he was your assistant. He's very good at convincing people of things without anyone realizing that he had any influence at all."

"I know," Jane said, bristling at all the mistrust of Loki, questioning her friendship with Loki just like Thor had. But it wasn't like they were wrong. Not about Loki making it hard to trust him sometimes, not about Loki having an almost scary level of talent for hidden influence. They didn't know the whole story. And they didn't know Loki like she did, she was certain of that. "And he did convince me he was my assistant, just a regular guy, in the beginning. But he didn't convince me to be his friend, or even to like him. He didn't want friends, including me. He explicitly told me that, and a lot of the time let's just say he wasn't going out of his way to make me like him. I think I just wore him down over time." Like acid, she added to herself, but that particular Loki-ism she figured could stay between the two of them. "Don't you think it's possible to be Loki's friend without being manipulated into it?"

Sif, Jane thought, looked skeptical, and a little like she recognized the question for the rebuke it was. Guddrid looked curious. Volstagg looked thoughtful, and also like he was about to say something, but before he could – and before Jane could get a sense of quiet Hogun's and politely-smiling Fandral's reactions, trumpets started playing from the vicinity of the private entrance.

"We need to get to our seats," Jolgeir leaned down to say.

"Let's go round up those ruffians, Gudda!"

"A dance later, Lady Jane?"

"If I can. And I mean that literally," Jane said to Fandral, exchanging quick good-byes with the rest of the group before hurrying over to the table with Jolgeir. She'd missed Odin and Frigga's entrance somehow, and knew that the trumpets – really loud, definitely meant to discourage you from rudely continuing your conversation – signaled Thor's imminent arrival.

They made it there before the doors opened. Loki, standing at his place opposite her gave her a polite but distant smile, his typical public behavior toward her, she supposed. The chair with the padded armrests, the king's chair, was to her left. Eir and then a man she assumed was Eir's husband was to her right, followed by Jolgeir and his wife and daughter. Next to Loki was an older woman she didn't recognize, possibly Bragi's wife since beside her Bragi was pushing himself up from his seat.

There was no time to say hello, though, for Thor was now entering, and the Feasting Hall came alive again with applause quickly followed by cheers. Jane clapped politely, uncertain how much she should join in as the only person here, as far as she knew, who was not an Asgardian citizen. The response was unexpected; Jolgeir had told her that typically everyone simply stood in respect for the king's arrival, but she supposed the circumstances weren't actually typical. Loki's back was to her, but she could tell from the position of his arms that he was almost certainly clapping.

Motion somewhere in front of her and to the right, at another table, caught her eye: a disappearing head. She squinted in that direction, and saw another head lowering, and dropping out of view. People were starting to go to a knee. To bow. Jane had been around the royal family enough now, and asked Jolgeir enough questions, to have at least a vague sense of how bowing worked here. It wasn't done just because the king walked into a room. This was spontaneous, done by a people who were gratefully acknowledging loyalty to a king who had led them to victory in a war they'd been on a path toward losing.

And now Jane really wasn't sure what she should do, and Jolgeir wasn't right next to her to whisper a question to. Thor wasn't her king, but how would it look if she was the only one not to go down on one knee? At that thought, her eyes snapped up and focused on Loki's back. Her own uncertainty suddenly seemed insignificant.

/


Responses to guest reviewers: Guest (Jan. 5): I've got to try to end it before I go senile, you know, ha. Nah, it has its ending, and it'll be so long you'll have forgotten most of what came before, good for rereading then, I hope, ha. / "a reader": Thanks, I did try out your suggestion BTW! / "Snafflefang": Thanks! Here's to lots more amazing Loki, here, elsewhere, and (grrrr, it better be) in A4! / "Lwolf": Thanks. One of those things I wish I could zap an image from my mind into an image file, ha. Yeah, Oscars night red carpet stuff! / Guest (Jan. 20) (if I understood right, "ladymouse2"? apologies if I misunderstood!): YEEESSSS, that's a very intentional inclusion, Finnulfur is indeed worried about Loki, and Loki really can't conceive of it. (Some slights are imagined, some are not, neither negates the other; Thor was blind to the ones that weren't imagined & Loki is blind to those that were.) Really-really, you have been here that long? That is *amazing*. And thank you! That was a *mess* to try to keep track of, not just the actual time travel, but the semi-false versions of it Loki tells first to Jane and then to everyone else. He is *not* interested in dredging up the Baldur history with anyone (a slight exception for Jane), and that particular bit of time travel is horribly painful for him, full of emotional vulnerability. He'll spin whatever tales are necessary to get around having to divulge that one. / "ladymouse2": I think "practical" is a good word for the FGs, their environment probably requires that for them to thrive, as you suggest. As for demonstrative affection, who knows? We've only seen little glimpses of a handful of lives, and that only in front of "guests." Farbauti is indeed full of conflicting emotions and overlapping motivations. Loki doesn't really think she *has* feelings, at least not in the same way that "regular people" have, but he's very wrong. And he genuinely did hurt her - sparking anger and playing also into the guilt she tells herself she doesn't/shouldn't feel - when he said, so coldly, so bluntly, "I owe you nothing." / "Polka-Dot-Sally" (& "PerkyBird via PM) - thanks so much. (Everyone else should thank you, too, since you both saved me from a continuity error, ha.

Preview for Ch. 197, probably titled either "Feast" or "Revels": Hit that classic by Kool & the Gang, come on, you know the one, and let's celebrate! This being a fanfic, and in particular one starring Loki, do leave room for some angst and perhaps even some mischief. And strap in, because it's a long one with a twist or two.

Excerpt:

"There's room for compassion in the law, Jane. She's expressed her remorse, and she showed courage in meeting with Brokk again despite her fear, to aid in Asgard's defense. I and the others present at these meetings can give statements to that effect. I'm certain that Finnulfur's decision will indeed reflect compassion."

Jane nodded, but felt an unease prickling at her. Loki, meanwhile, was standing to stretch for something on another platter, and seemed not to be paying attention anymore.