Loki (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
throneenvy) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
fossilised2016-02-12 05:26 pm
throneenvy) wrote in fossilised2016-02-12 05:26 pm
Entry tags:
For Darcy
No, Loki.
Those words still rang in his ears even hours after they had been said, as though a bell tolling for his execution. He saw Odin's face with every blink of his eyes, disappointed and dispassionate, as though he cared nothing for the suffering of his younger son. No-- No, not son. He had made that mistake too many times, he was no Odinson, and to believe otherwise was to perpetuate the lie told to him his entire life. He would not be so foolish as to pin hope on those words said before the sleep took the All-Father, where he said he still saw Loki as his son, where the lies had been designed to protect him.
His actions since proved those false. Lies worthy of being told by the Silver-tongue himself.
Despite all Loki had done. Despite upholding his decision regarding Thor, despite proving the elder son had no right to the throne in his arrogance and stupidity, despite saving the sleeping king's life from a mortal enemy and slaughtering his own birth father for his sake, despite acting as a true ruler to destroy a realm that had declared war... still he was seen as wanting. His actions deemed as unworthy, even criminal. And Thor returned to the fold as worthy heir.
He had thought to die when he fell to the Void. He had hoped for once brief, brilliant moment that Odin or Thor would catch him. But they did not. They watched him fall as though they had tossed him to the abyss himself. But he had not died, he had somehow fallen through the gaps in shadow and landed in another realm. He knew at once that it was Midgard. It stank of the mortals, the air had that distinct sharpness that was only found here.
This was where Thor had become worthy once more.
Perhaps that was a sign. Perhaps he could reforge himself once more here on Midgard, perhaps-- or perhaps those were false hopes brought out by a shattered mind. He no longer knew himself if he were insane, and he found he did not care. He only wished to be alone and hidden until he thought through what he should do, until he found a place for himself once more. It was a matter of instinct to cloak himself from Heimdall's gaze, though he had little energy left and exhaustion tugged at his bones even with that small use of his magic.
He did not even have the energy to find one of the cities the mortals had built, scarce enough to even find one of their roads and sit beside him. He used the last of his magic to change his clothing into garb less likely to draw attention, simple black trousers and a neat shirt, before he sat in the dust and dirt and waited for one of their vehicles to pass by.
Loki required transportation, food, and rest. Then perhaps he could begin to make sense of what had happened and plan his next moves.
Those words still rang in his ears even hours after they had been said, as though a bell tolling for his execution. He saw Odin's face with every blink of his eyes, disappointed and dispassionate, as though he cared nothing for the suffering of his younger son. No-- No, not son. He had made that mistake too many times, he was no Odinson, and to believe otherwise was to perpetuate the lie told to him his entire life. He would not be so foolish as to pin hope on those words said before the sleep took the All-Father, where he said he still saw Loki as his son, where the lies had been designed to protect him.
His actions since proved those false. Lies worthy of being told by the Silver-tongue himself.
Despite all Loki had done. Despite upholding his decision regarding Thor, despite proving the elder son had no right to the throne in his arrogance and stupidity, despite saving the sleeping king's life from a mortal enemy and slaughtering his own birth father for his sake, despite acting as a true ruler to destroy a realm that had declared war... still he was seen as wanting. His actions deemed as unworthy, even criminal. And Thor returned to the fold as worthy heir.
He had thought to die when he fell to the Void. He had hoped for once brief, brilliant moment that Odin or Thor would catch him. But they did not. They watched him fall as though they had tossed him to the abyss himself. But he had not died, he had somehow fallen through the gaps in shadow and landed in another realm. He knew at once that it was Midgard. It stank of the mortals, the air had that distinct sharpness that was only found here.
This was where Thor had become worthy once more.
Perhaps that was a sign. Perhaps he could reforge himself once more here on Midgard, perhaps-- or perhaps those were false hopes brought out by a shattered mind. He no longer knew himself if he were insane, and he found he did not care. He only wished to be alone and hidden until he thought through what he should do, until he found a place for himself once more. It was a matter of instinct to cloak himself from Heimdall's gaze, though he had little energy left and exhaustion tugged at his bones even with that small use of his magic.
He did not even have the energy to find one of the cities the mortals had built, scarce enough to even find one of their roads and sit beside him. He used the last of his magic to change his clothing into garb less likely to draw attention, simple black trousers and a neat shirt, before he sat in the dust and dirt and waited for one of their vehicles to pass by.
Loki required transportation, food, and rest. Then perhaps he could begin to make sense of what had happened and plan his next moves.
no subject
He felt as though he had been sprinting at full speed since the moment his feet had touched down on Jotunheim, and each reaction and plan he had made had only led him further into ruin. He had only intended initially to make Odin see that Thor was not ready for rule, and to give his golden brother just a brief taste of the disappointments that Loki must stomach daily. He had never meant for it to go so far, they should never have even made it to that frozen wasteland of a realm.
And then his other actions... had they not been that of a King? He had upheld the banishment, the last decree of Odin before he fell into the Odinsleep. He had attempted to pre-emptively strike at an ancient enemy who had declared war upon Asgard once more, a stroke of brilliance in his tactics that would have had that war won without a single drop of Aesir blood spilled. Yet still he had been found wanting. Still he had--
No, Loki.
He felt a sick numbness settle over him all over again, the same hopelessness that had led to him voluntarily falling to the void. Whatever providence had seen to save his life and bring him to Midgard was a cruel one, for he had no path to walk. No way ahead that was clear. No home to return to. Why did he think to deceive these mortals and travel with them? Just because they were a link to Thor? What did he plan to do while in their company? If he did assist in repairing the Bifrost, what then? His mind, usually ever so ready to supply answers, had none.
And then they were back in front of him once more and Thor's mortal was speaking to him. It took him precious seconds to pull from his reverie and parse the offer she made, and to summon the appropriately grateful smile to his lips.
"I should be honoured to assist in your research, and I offer you both my sincere gratitude for your help."
This path may be a dead end. These women may be a mere tenuous link to Asgard, with their presence in his life no more than a coincidence. But he had no answers, and this was the only path ahead he saw for now. He could continue attempting to retrieve his answers along the way. But for now, he must pursue this.
"I am--" He swallowed suddenly, and felt his words stick in his throat. Who was he? He was Loki Odinson no more, had never been that in truth. He would never stomach himself to be Loki Laufeyson. He was Loki Nobodyson. He could not claim Asgard, could not be anything other than mortal to these women. It twisted his heart to lie here, for all the other lies he told with no shame, for it felt as though a renunciation of who he had always been. "--Leita, it is my pleasure to make your acquaintance."
no subject
She considered leaving town for a few days, taking a little trip to visit friends, but leaving Jane alone with this stranger was not an option, nor was leaving him alone in their home.
"We're going to wind up murdered and stuffed in a dumpster one day," Darcy muttered as she headed back to the car, only belatedly registering the guy's equally bizarre name. It suited him somehow, even if it sounded feminine to her. The British were weird folk.
She was fiddling with the radio by the time the others joined her, Jane chatting animatedly about her work, giving Leita a crash course in everything that had happened. Well, almost everything; she skirted around meeting an alien from outer space who happened to be built like a truck. Just because Leita was aware of the 'artifact' didn't mean he knew anything beyond that.
Unable to find anything decent on the radio, she shut it off and instead butted into the conversation. "What exactly did you do with the hammer again?:
no subject
But he did not, and so he felt safe with the pseudonym he has chosen. It seemed fitting to him, for Leita meant to seek, and that was exactly what he did now. He sought his place, he sought answers, and he sought a return to his rightful station in life.
The radio was white noise to him, the music strangely composed and played upon unfamiliar sounding instruments. He chose instead to listen to Jane Foster's explanations of her research with a sharp interest in his eyes. It was not hard to grasp her figures, they were different in some ways to the principles of how the Bifrost was actually constructed, but he recognised the base similarities.
"Very little." He turned his attention back to the smaller one - Darcy, he believed it was, from observing the muttered back and forth between the two women. His smile twisted into wryness. "The hammer would not yield to my hand, nor any instrument I chose to use upon it, and I did not have chance to conduct further experimentation before we were forcibly parted."
He still felt the sting of that. Mjolnir should have ceded to him. He was rightful King at the time, with Gungnir in his possession, placed there by the guard and witnessed by the All-Mother. Why should he not have held the hammer, and the power that went with it?
"What do you know of it?"
no subject
After all, how the hell would she know the hammer's name unless someone told her? And that someone happened to be Thor? Had she just let the cat out of the bag?
Instead of shutting up, she added, "And it can fly."
Jane sighed, undoubtedly anticipating Leita's upcoming line of questioning before it could assault her.
"Whole lotta classified information in here."
God, why couldn't someone just gag her?
Darcy felt grumpy and out of sorts. Buying a brand new iPod and filling it with music promised to be a massive pain in the ass, especially since they still had to put together some of Jane's dismantled equipment and put everything where it belonged. At least now they'd have some help.
Jane headed off his questions with a simple explanation: "It is an extraterrestrial object." That was putting it mildly. She paused at a four-way stop, then turned left, driving past empty desert and a few demolished buildings before pulling into the parking lot and killing the engine. Then she sat back, eyes on Leita in the rear view mirror.
Darcy just sulked.
no subject
That Jane Foster took the lead was already evident. She had fondness for Darcy, but did not respect her opinion or thoughts, and was easily irritated by her thoughtless commentary. She was a creature of intelligence and tact, whereas the smaller woman seemed to be driven by emotion and impulse. A little like order and chaos, working well together and yet causing friction too. It was interesting, and a suitable distraction from his own current issues.
"I understand the need for privacy and for information to remain confidential." He waved a hand with a deliberately disarming smile, aimed mostly at Darcy for she seemed to still harbour the most suspicion towards him. "You may lay your fears to rest, I shall not intrude upon your secrets."
That, naturally, was a lie.
He did not need them to tell him in order to discover any secrets, though, he could obtain what he wished through his own guile and particular tricks. He wished their good will currently, for he truly had no place to go other than here yet.
"I apologise, but I find myself weary from the day's trials, if I may request the night to rest and I shall begin to assist on the morrow."
no subject
His speech pattern would take getting used to. He sounded like an Oxford professor, which made Darcy feel as if she hadn't even graduated middle school. Then again, she was terribly grumpy about this whole thing.
She saw an opportunity to bolt, and took it.
"I'll prepare the guest room," she offered, grabbing her stuff and hauling ass into the flat. It was spacious and bright, with plenty of natural lighting, and it helped that Jane spent most nights in her trailer and Erik often left to do science things. Darcy honestly loved having the place to herself most of the time, and inwardly loathed having a brand new roommate.
Hopefully this wouldn't result in SHIELD beating down their door again and absconding with everything.
Darcy hummed to herself as she put fresh linens on the bed, turned on the air conditioning, and quickly scanned the bathroom and rest of the flat to ensure there wasn't anything potentially embarrassing laying around. Though it would serve him right if he headed to the bathroom in the middle of the night, half-asleep, and came face-to-face with a collection of bras drying on the shower rod.
well this got long whoops
He once fought beside Thor for a solid week with no sleep and little time to eat or even catch his breath, he expended all his magic and danced with the enemy until his legs near collapsed from underneath him, but he had never felt exhaustion such as he does now. This goes beyond his body, far deeper. It is in his bones, in his very soul. He has not slept now since before he sent the Destroyer to Midgard, to this little town, and the toll is great.
Loki is barely aware of Jane Foster as she follows him up the stairs and then bids him a good night outside the airy chambers they have set aside for him. She tells him not to allow Darcy to talk his ear off, she looks at him with sympathetic eyes, and she retreats to the main living space. He had not known what to expect of these two mortal women, though it had been little for humans were petty creatures beneath his notice, but it had not been kindness. They have taken him to their home, they have prepared these chambers with fresh sheets and soft pillows, and they have offered him their hospitality.
He does not recall the murmured thanks that leave his lips for the efforts of Darcy Lewis in her preparations for his comfort, and he does not remember crossing the room when the door closed to leave him in solitude. All he recalls is the sight out of the window. Broken vehicles and rubble, blocked from being accessed by bright yellow strips that stretch between buildings. The evidence of the Destroyer writ plain in front of him.
What he truly does not expect is the sudden wave of guilt.
Despite the exhaustion, he does not find it within himself to tear his eyes from the visible scarring his actions have left on this town. And he does not sleep. Not that evening when he hears the door open and close and the low murmur of conversation, of the two women and an additional male voice. Not when the arguing finally ceases and all goes quiet. Not when the sky turns from velvet blue into the brilliant reds and golds of dawn.
Loki still cannot sort his feelings for his family in his mind. Even just touching on the tangle of his true heritage, all that had happened, and the lies that had been told to him for his whole life make him recoil at once. He hears the echo of Odin's voice in his mind and hears the roar of the void, and he does not know whether he still feels a desperate need to be accepted, to prove himself an Odinson, or whether he feels a bitter anger that will need release lest it eat him from within like the blackest of poisons.
The only decision he has made when daylight finally breaks over his little room is that he wishes to make reparation to the mortals. They have shown him kindness when his heart was sorely in need of it, and all he has gifted them in return is destruction. It may be a small thing, but he will assist in the construction of a new Bifrost from this end to wipe out that debt. That requires his disguise to be more than a whim and one of his more poorly constructed lies, it requires him to be perfect and to know more of Midgard than he currently does.
That is what brings him out of his chambers in the early morning and into the communal living space. There is a rectangular device on the seat with which he begins his exploration. It has 'Property of Darcy Lewis. Hands off. Mine." written on the top in little strips of white tape, but he paid that no heed for he did not intend to do it any damage. Brief investigation showed him that it opened like a book, and one half held keys that corresponded to their alphabet.
A few buttons pressed later, and Loki had managed to turn the laptop on. Fifteen minutes later and he had figured out how to work the most basic of functions. Two hours later and he was engrossed in an internet article regarding application of science in modern astrophysics. So engrossed that he would not notice the owner of said laptop if she happened to come upon him.
i looooove it
In spite of her own reservations, Darcy found herself coming to Jane’s defense, the immediacy of any potential threats gradually giving way to an increasing sense of excitement. Just like Thor plummeting from the skies, this was abnormal, unusual, a break in their normally dull routine that carried the promise of scientific breakthroughs.
Assuming the stranger spoke truth.
In a way, Darcy was impressed. This was the Jane who believed Thor’s outrageous stories and drove him out into the middle of the desert to fetch his hammer. This was the Jane who believed vehemently that her theories were valid and would pursue them no matter what barriers she had to climb.
Darcy went to bed weary, her circling thoughts keeping her awake late into the night. What little sleep she grabbed was fitful, plagued by dreams she could not recall upon waking. Finally, she dragged herself out of bed to make coffee, figuring she might feel a bit closer to human once she had some caffeine in her system. She shuffled into the kitchen with mussed hair and bare feet, forgetting momentarily that anyone aside from Jane and Erik were in the flat. Her thin t-shirt was worn, a faded blue-gray that had been stunning in its heyday, and her pajama pants had frolicking monkeys on them.
As the coffee percolated, she studied the newcomer as he hunched over her laptop. How had he guessed her password? If he had skill with computers, they would at least have something in common. She only felt mild annoyance over her eloquent warning being ignored, which had much to do with the scent of coffee filling the air. She poured herself a mug full of coffee, doctored it, and carried it into the living room, eyes still bleary.
“That’s mine,” she said good-naturedly as she collapsed into the recliner, yawning. He had nothing but the clothes on his back, which was why Darcy did not protest quite as vociferously as she otherwise might have, combined with a lingering weariness and a general sense of satisfaction at having her coffee. Belatedly, she realized she was being rude. “Want coffee?”
She wasn’t his maid, but whatever.
no subject
He could have stayed for days with this knowledge at his fingertips, weeks even. Loki was a scholar at heart, he always had been, and had spent many happy months of his life within the palace libraries on a relentless pursuit of information. He preferred books, they had a weight and history to them which filled the senses as much as the words within. But this internet was a wondrous creation, and it thrilled him to be able to follow a line of inquiry with the mere flick of his fingertips.
A voice pulled him from his studies, reminded him that he existed within the home of another currently and must be more conscientious if he wished for this to continue. And, he had decided the night prior, he did. For he required this small company in order to assist in his reparation to Midgard.
"I should, thank you." He looked up at Darcy, his eyes a brilliant green with the fire of enthusiasm that made him almost the man he had been before all of this, especially when coupled with the smile on his face.
He gestured down at the laptop, the name of which he still did not know despite all the other information he had managed to glean so far. "I must purchase one of these for my own, there are many items I must obtain now that I have nothing." Clothing, an identity. All things easily possible with the use of his magic.
He had never tried 'coffee' before, it was not a beverage they had in Asgard, and the aroma was both heady and bitter. However, his throat was parched and he would gladly drink even warm mead if that were all that should be offered to slake his thirst. He should eat also, and actually get rest, but somehow he found it hard to think beyond one need at a time currently.
"I heard argument during the night. I hope that my presence has not caused friction within your company, for I assure you that I mean you no harm."
no subject
His story didn't add up, something Erik had pointed out as well, but Jane was blinded by this opportunity to boost her research and reach Thor that much more quickly. Darcy had learned over the past year to just go along and pick up the debris as best she could.
This was a bit extreme, even for her, but for Jane's sake she rolled with it. She still gave him a bizarre look as she rose and headed into the kitchen to pour him a mug of coffee, carrying it over with some cream just in case he preferred it that way. She never judged how someone took their coffee.
Unless they were snobby about it. Then she made faces behind their back.
After she settled back into her chair, she mulled over his choice of wording. Another oddly shaped piece of the puzzle, one she couldn't figure out, so it was tossed in with all the others for later examination. It was too early in the morning for her to figure out even the simplest mystery, though she believed she'd make a pretty decent Sherlock Holmes. Especially if she owned that hat and a badass trench coat.
"No worries," she reassured him, clearly still waking up. She sipped her coffee, sighing softly. "Jane should be up soon. If she's even still here. Sometimes she heads out to the lab and doesn't come back. Bad habit of hers."
no subject
He wrapped his fingers tight around the ceramic and relished in the warmth that seeped through to his skin. It bordered on the uncomfortable, hot enough to threaten to burn, but he did not release his grip at all. He feared the cold now, feared what it revealed about him, and so the heat was a welcome pain.
"You have both already shown me such kindness." So unexpected, so desperately needed in his time of flux, for that he already owed them a great debt. "I shall do all that I can to repay that through my work in your laboratory, perhaps you would be so kind as to show it to me when you have finished breaking your fast?"
Loki finally took a sip of the coffee and his eyes widened in surprise. He had never tasted anything quite like this brew before, bitter and stimulating. It was pleasant in ways he had never experienced and he could see why it was a popular beverage here upon Midgard. He may have liked it less if he knew Thor had also taken a liking to it.
"This coffee is most excellent, Darcy Lewis."
no subject
There were other ways she would prefer to spend her Saturday, but it seemed that with Erik's departure and Jane's possible disappearing act, it was up to her to play hostess. Hopefully Jane was already pouring over recent data in an attempt to piece together how Thor had come to Earth, and their newfound partner in science could just jump right in.
"Sure. I just need a shower." She shrugged her shoulders, a bit uncomfortable with the overly formal mode of address, not the least of which because it was so reminiscent of their Asgardian visitors. Suspicion again itched across her shoulders.
There had been no meteorological anomaly to herald the stranger's appearance, so he couldn't be from Asgard. If nothing else, it should have been Thor who appeared on Earth, not some bedraggled young man supposedly cast off by SHIELD in the middle of the desert with nothing more than the clothes on his back.
Yeah. She could see why Erik was pissed.
Excusing herself, she finished her coffee and left the mug in the sink as she went to shower and prepare for the day. She would grab breakfast after introducing him to the cobbled together wonders of Jane's lab, maybe even bring something back for everyone else if she was feeling magnanimous. Pulling damp hair back with a tie, she casually knocked on Jane's door, then poked her head inside after offering loud and ample warning.
Nothing. Unsurprising, given the recent developments.
Sighing, she began herding the stranger into her car.
no subject
He had not had that time.
He had thought to die when he let go of Gungnir. It had been a helplessness and a defeat that had seemed so overwhelming, still did if he let himself think on it too hard. Had it been any wonder that he wished to fall into the Void and never surface? How could he have known he would slip through the spaces between Yggdrasil's roots and end up here? And so his disguise remained imperfect, and his knowledge of Midgard too fledgling to be without mistakes.
The time Darcy spent in her ablutions was given over to finishing the report on her mechanical device and then sending it back into its sleeping mode. He had no other clothes and a spell to change them would rouse suspicion, so he contented himself with allowing magic to soothe out the creases and ease the tangles from his hair to make himself presentable.
The silence within the car was a little stilted. He had not naturally made conversation since before he found his secrets, and even then not with those outside his own circle.
"Tell me, Miss Lewis, are you a physicist as well? What is the nature of your particular field of research?"
no subject
This stranger made her feel awkward. Too aware of herself, even while she fretfully studied him, hoping he would slip up and offer some clue as to his purpose here. Given time, her suspicion would be put to rest, but she remained hyper aware of him. It was exhausting, quite frankly.
Restless, she turned on the radio, fiddled with it until she reached her favorite alt rock station. Breaking Benjamin crooned through her car's admittedly sub-par speakers.
His question was greeted by laughter. "Me? I'm not a scientist. I'm going to school for political science. That's all...well, politics. No hard science involved." She braked to allow a roadrunner to dart across before punching the gas again. "I'm just an intern. Last six credits I need before I graduate. I figured this would be easier than lectures."
More laughter, this time a little bit more bitter. Yeah, this was totally a walk in the park. Who didn't spend the end of their college career dodging giant mechanical monstrosities and gawking at gods?
"Honestly, I don't understand half of what comes out of Jane's mouth, but she's brilliant." She pulled into a parking spot and cut the engine, stretching briefly.
no subject
But it seemed that the culture here had only evolved and bastardised itself to such an extent that there were new concepts and ideas that had no parallel in his experience. Political science, that sounded nonsense. As to what an intern was exactly, or why she should be credited six times for such an achievement, he had no idea. He could not, however, reveal his ignorance, and so he settled for a sagely nod as if that had all made perfect sense.
He had parsed one thing. She would be of no real help in restoring the Bifrost.
It mattered not, she had still extended kindness to him and still been present during the destruction, he owed her reparation as much as he owed Jane Foster. He smiled at her, his most charming lop-sided smile, one that he used to use in order to wind the palace servants around his fingers before they had become suspicious and distrusting of him in general.
"I am certain you understand more than you think and hold value within this enterprise, or I should not imagine your presence would be tolerated within the laboratory."
no subject
No, no, he very well might be a SHIELD spy, though why they would go through this much effort just to keep tabs on them was beyond her. They could do the exact same thing legitimately without jumping through hoops of subterfuge. Was the theory she’d concocted too elaborate for a shady governmental organization?
She wasn’t living in a Tom Clancy novel. Especially considering she hadn’t read anything of his since she was young and stupid enough to waste her time on his writing. Still, after assisting a Norse god who had fallen from the sky, few things seemed too impossible.
Hopefully, she would get over that soon.
“Uh, thanks,” she said awkwardly, uncertain how else to respond. A sarcastic quip might have done her well, but she didn’t want Leita to think she didn’t actually appreciate his positive words. She heard such things – spoken or unspoken – infrequently enough. “Maybe the little things, but when it comes to the actual science? Jane’s your girl.”
She was saved from further disastrous conversation by pulling into a parking spot and cutting the engine. The building used to be a car showroom, but Jane had acquired it for a ridiculously low price and repurposed it beautifully. They had yet to make proper use of the various little rooms in the building except as storage closets for junk, a tiny office Jane rarely used, and a kitchen area Darcy tried to maintain and add to as she could. It worked well enough for them, and thus far, neither Erik nor Jane had discovered the large closet Darcy had repurposed as an impromptu nap area complete with pillows and blankets for those late nights she was forced to spend sometimes with Jane, staring at equipment readings and waiting for something to happen.
Part of her which Jane would both discover and make use of it.
“This is it,” she said as she nudged open the door with her hip and waved a hand dramatically. Jane was already there, hair pulled back in a ponytail as she frantically sorted through a pile of massively-sized paperwork. “Our home away from home. Hey, Jane, what’s up?”
Jane glanced up, obviously distracted. There was a look of frustration on her face. “SHIELD returned everything,” she said, gesturing with her chin, “but it’s an absolute mess. I’m trying to find all the data from…”
She broke off, glancing at Leita, and then continued.
“…the disturbance the other day.” She brightened, but only briefly. “I did find something I’d been looking for for, like, three months. Remember, Darcy?” She rattled off a bunch of nonsense, then eventually the words died down as she continued sifting through the paperwork, tossing some of it onto the floor.
no subject
He slipped out of the car with unconsciously graceful movements. Where Thor had always been intimidating and mighty in every motion, whether that be the boisterous embrace of a friend or the melee of battle. Loki was not. He had always been more graceful and dexterous, with a fighting style that lent itself more to sharp precise movements and elegance, something that also bled into his other activities.
What was inside was not what he expected.
Any equipment and paperwork were scattered in disorganised piles - though that was explained by Jane's opening comments - and there seemed a worrying lack of books. How did they do any research worth anything without a library of books to refer to? True, that device he had played with through the night had held a surprising stock of information, but it was still no good book.
"Disturbance?" His smile was easy and welcoming as he came to stand between the two women and look from one to the other. "I understand you may have reservations about trusting me, but I cannot assist with research I am not privy to."
Bright green eyes scanned the laboratory again, almost as if subconsciously searching out any clue that Thor had been here. Thinking of his brother made an uncomfortable swell of contradictory emotions spread through his chest, love and hate, envy and guilt.
no subject
The two girls exchanged another look, then Jane began speaking. “This is going to sound insane…”
“He worked for SHIELD. I’m sure nothing registers on his radar as insane anymore,” Darcy interjected.
Jane kept talking. “…but the artifact that you were studying is actually the mythical hammer of a Norse deity who, uh…fell to Earth.”
Darcy twirled a finger around next to her head in the universal signal for lunatic.
“He’s from a realm called Asgard, and our realms are connected using some sort of Einstein-Rosen Bridge.” Jane’s voice picked up in both strength and excitement. “They apparently use this technology to travel between all these different realms. He couldn’t explain it properly – I don’t think he understands how it works – but he gave me enough information to go off of.”
“Jane here has been trying to build her own Rosey Bridge for a while now.” Darcy smoothly nudged Jane aside and began sorting through documentation, carefully organizing them into different piles. Jane watched for a few moments, pointing at things now and then to redirect, before remembering that she’d been talking.
Darcy zoned out, having heard Jane discuss her theories so often that she could recite some of it by heart, even if the words had little meaning to her. She was glad that Jane had her work to focus on, and a more distinct goal, since given the intensity of that kiss she’d shared with Thor, Darcy suspected there was just a touch of heartbreak fueling her.
She glanced over at Leita to see if he was following any of this.
“…and that’s…pretty much that,” Jane concluded lamely, absently snatching a small scrap of paper from one of the piles and squinting at it. “Insane, isn’t it?”
no subject
He had not expected the sharp ache to his chest when Thor was mentioned, even if not specifically by name. Guilt clawed through him like a living thing the longer that Jane spoke, with interjections from Darcy. Though her story focused more on the theories of the Bifrost and the way it was used to connect the realms, some bleed of the other circumstances surrounding the last few days could not be helped. And to hear of the destruction caused from this perspective, from the people who had now shown him such kindness and trust, it made him feel as if he had ashes on his tongue.
"Unusual, I shall grant you."
Only long practise in keeping his emotion hidden allowed him to answer smoothly, allowed him to keep the facade going. Revealing himself would do no good, for they would have every right to hate and persecute him. Something he may well deserve, but that he had no intention of subjecting himself to. He may feel guilty and wish to pay recompense, but he was also still a selfish creature at heart.
"My research prior to our meeting was also primarily based in replicating this mode of transportation, and I believe that I will be able to assist you with your calculations."
Her particular research was alien to him, nor had he heard of an Einstein-Rosen bridge, but he did understand the Bifrost. He had to in order to make his own secret ways between realms. He just had to figure out how to present his magic as their brand of science.
"Unfortunately it was all lost during my-- termination from the organisation." From what he had seen of SHIELD, he could imagine they would do this. "It may take some time to replicate. I should not like to take you from your personal notes, however, so perhaps Miss Lewis could assist me?"
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Hadn't she just recently told him all about how stupid she was at anything science?
"I need more coffee first," she said before stamping away, absently turning on two computer terminals on her way to the kitchen area. She'd assumed he would be mesmerized by Jane's beauty and intelligence, as everyone was, and since he spoke the same language, fall into her theories smooth as butter. She couldn't think of any reason an attractive guy would choose her company over Jane's.
Well. She glanced down, noting that she wasn't showing any cleavage.
Perhaps he was simply more comfortable around her, since they'd shared more time together. Her paranoia really was beginning to get the best of her. She huffed at the slow coffee maker, not feeling any better until she had another steaming mug in her hands.
"Coffee?" she called out.
Jane knew this song and dance. "Not right now!"
"How about food? Did you eat?"
The conversation still took place with each girl shouting. "Not hungry!"
"Liar," she muttered. Filling another mug, simply assuming Leita would want one, she tucked a few packages of granola bars into one hand as well and carefully carried everything back, pausing to set the two mugs down by the computers. She tossed the granola bars, save for two, at Jane, winging them violently and missing by a few inches.
She pointed at Leita, then at one of the computers.
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To look at her was to risk madness.
Not that he admitted as much even to himself. He fell back on the other reasons, all perfectly valid, in order to justify his decisions. Darcy was less competent in the sciences, such she had already told him, and thus would be less likely to notice when his equations strayed closer to magic than astrophysics. It was a simple matter of maintaining his disguise, and that would be easier with her observing his work than Jane Foster.
Loki listened to the exchange and watched the flying packages with interest and bemusement. Was this a morning ritual? It had the well-rehearsed manner of something done every day.
"Thank you, I assume this is to be my work space?" He slipped gracefully into the seat before the lit up screen. It was of a different shape than the device he had investigated last night, but it seemed to be of a similar function.
He began to move a pile of papers away from the mechanised writing tray so that he could begin. A book slid out from the middle, well worn and battered. It was open on a stylised depiction of a man holding a hammer aloft and the name writ clear at the top was THOR: GOD OF THUNDER. A library book borrowed to research the Norse deities and forgotten, swept up by SHIELD along with their work and returned the same way.
Loki dropped it as if he had touched a live snake, face paling beyond his control to hide.
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Due to her proximity, she couldn’t miss his reaction to the book. However, she assumed he’d gotten a papercut, the same way she sometimes ended the day covered in band-aids of varying sizes and colors and shapes because she happened to reach for a pile of papers wrong. She saw no immediate welling of blood, but that didn’t mean much.
“Are you all right?” she asked, quickly kneeling down to scoop up the book and set it aside. “Did you cut yourself? Papercuts are the worst. I have no idea how something so small can hurt so damn bad, but trust me, we have tons of band-aids. Hell, I think we even have some liquid bandage stuff somewhere. I tried that once. It was cool as hell, but dear god did it sting.”
During her monologue, she sat down in her own chair and stretched out her legs, logging into her own system. Her Windows background was an image of a beautiful snowy backdrop, on regular rotation with other similar images. It helped her feel slightly less prone to melting on the days when their air conditioning unit went on vacation and the temperature outside soared above 100 degrees Fahrenheit. One of the many things she despised about being in the desert, but six credits was six credits, and if she decided that politics wasn’t for her, she could probably make a killing by becoming an author and writing a creative account of everything she’d just experienced.
Assuming SHIELD didn’t find out about it first and have her assassinated. How dramatic.
She immediately loaded up her music playlist, keeping the volume low. Usually she’d just use headphones, but since she’d need to assist Leita, she doubted he would appreciate her ignoring all of his questions.
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Loki's heart beat an unsteady rhythm in his chest and his eyes seemed locked on the fallen book until it was effectively spirited away by Darcy Lewis. The pages closed to him once more, obscuring the stylised drawing of his brother in shining helm with hammer held high.
He could picture the day so clearly, the exact one where the Midgardians must have seen this image of him to capture so well. They had been so young, Loki young enough not to have even earned his own helm, and Thor had just been gifted Mjolnir to carry by his side. He had been so boisterously excited and determined to find a fight at once, 'worthy' of being killed by his new toy. The more dangerous realms were still closed to them, but Heimdall agreed to let them go to Midgard. They had searched (Thor had searched while Loki demanded they return home) for fierce beasts for a month before Thor had lost his temper at finding none. A roar of frustration, the hammer held to the sky to summon the clouds, and all mortals in the surrounding villages had seen.
Though the book was closed to him now, and such was a relief, Loki half wanted to open it once more and trace the lines with his fingers. To remember a happier time before he knew that he had no right to call Thor brother, before he knew his life had been a lie.
"Ah--" It was a small noise as he was pulled from his reverie to find Darcy already at her computer and babbling about being cut by papers. How was that possible? Was mortal flesh so very fragile that even the soft edge of paper could tear into their skin?
Apparently so. Pathetic.
It was a ready-made explanation for his reaction, however, so he nodded his head at once. He spread his fingers up in her direction, long and elegant, as if to display the non-existent damage done. "There is no need for aid or bandages, the wound has already closed and the pain has passed."
With that, he turned to his personal monitor and began to work. Slowly at first, for the technology was still new to him and he did not know precisely how their primitive science worked, but with increasing speed.
And so it continued for the next five weeks.
Loki settled into his role as Leita and threw himself bodily into the attempt at reparation. For the longer he spent with these mortals, so plucky and determined even in the face of all their failings and weaknesses, the more the guilt for his actions took hold and the madness at learning the truth of his origins faded. To think of Asgard was still to feel pain. Pain of loss, of sorrow, and the tinge of betrayed anger that could not quite disappear.
But that was not his home now, had never really been his home in truth, so he tried to think of it little.
He spent most of his time with Darcy Lewis. Though he passed polite conversation with Jane Foster, for she was indeed brilliant and amenable company, she reminded him too much of Thor. Erik was one he tried to avoid completely, for the tang of his accent was too bittersweet, and he feared being discovered by one who knew the old stories much better than most now living on this realm. And so Miss Lewis became his companion in work and leisure, and she proved surprisingly interesting company.
Through long practise at observing others and finding their weaknesses and vulnerabilities, it was not difficult for Loki to watch the occasional moment where she would look saddened at not understanding, or cover up her inadequacies with jest. He noted all of those moments and filed them. She was an able assistant, and he did make an effort to explain some of his calculations to her in careful language, to test if she would notice they were not science as Midgard knew it.
He remained unfailingly polite to all of them, though he remained evasive and vague on his history. He still did not sleep well. Nor did he eat, for the food tasted of ashes on his tongue and rest was plagued with memories of falling to the Void and all the preceded it. He grew thinner and paler, but his smile remained wide, and his dressed impeccably. He made a show of going out to buy new outfits, but really his closet remained bare and he dressed himself each morning in magic. Tailored suits and smart shirts, clothes that befit the prince he no longer was.
Loki avoided that book of Norse tales since that first morning, right up until this morning near six weeks later. Jane had gone to the lab and Erik was with her, and Darcy had developed a Midgardian infection they rather bizarrely referred to as a 'cold'. Believing that she would remain in her rooms to continue the sneezing and coughing that had come over her, he finally gave in once more to curiosity and dug the book out from where he had hidden it after the first day had been over.
Thus if any mortal should happen to stumble out wrapped in a blanket and in search of comfort food, she would find Loki staring at an open book with rare tears trickling down his face.
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Any and all attempts to coax him into casual wear had been met with a flat stare and no success. She’d even taken to leaving little gifts in his room – a dark green Henley, a sweatshirt bearing the name of her favorite NFL team, even a plain t-shirt with the words ‘Mad Science’ emblazoned across the chest – but as far as she knew, he could have been tossing them in the trash. She never ventured into his room for longer than it took to drop the shopping bag on his bed and leave.
With the bulk of his time, both personal and professional, spent in her company, Darcy suspected briefly that he had developed a crush on her. Paying slightly closer attention to him for the following week proved that she was imagining things, but also allowed her to track his weight loss, note his lack of appetite. Amusement and a developing mutual interest were replaced by concern, and her presents came in the form of various snacks and treats. PopTarts, to see if he enjoyed them as much as Thor; chocolate covered caramels to determine if he shared her passion for them. Leita was slim to begin with; he could ill afford to lose additional weight.
It continued long enough that she vowed she’d confront him, though she wasn’t entirely sure how to go about it. Eating disorders were common enough in women, and Jane herself often forgot to eat if Darcy didn’t follow her around shoving food under her nose, but she had no idea how prevalent it was in men, or what the cause might be. He was attractive, even with the weight loss, so it was possible there was a medical issue he had yet to reveal.
Or there was something else going on. Regardless, she was determined to solve the mystery and keep him from turning sideways and disappearing. Her nerves would be unable to handle it.
If she ever sat down and examined her feelings, she’d note that she was swiftly growing attached to Leita. He took her far more seriously than either Jane or Erik, patiently explaining the methodology behind his calculations, and even passing a few of the simpler ones over to her to puzzle out. He went about it a vastly different way than Jane, one that seemed somehow more intuitive even to one with no scientific background. Beyond being flattered to receive attention from an attractive guy, Darcy was thrilled to be offered the chance to learn, to prove herself.
None of that was at the forefront of her mind, aside from how she’d run into Leita, fresh from the shower, the prior morning. The image of him with wet hair was engraved in her mind in a way that embarrassed her no matter how she’d gossiped about it to Jane. The man could have been a model. Regardless, her focus was on a week’s worth of mail piled on her bed, a couple of papercuts already stinging her fingers. One letter in particular with SHIELD’s letterhead and logo had her attention.
“Holy shit,” she breathed, scrambling off the bed and flinging her door open. She called out, “Jane! Oh my god, come here, you need to see this. Jane?”
Silence. She knocked on Jane’s door, then opened it to peer inside. Nothing. Had Jane returned home last night, or had she retreated to her trailer for privacy? Uncertain, Darcy padded into the living room, eyes bright with excitement. “Hey, Leita, have you seen Jane? You’re not going to…” Her words trailed off as she noticed the expression on his face, tears glistening, familiar concern returning. She took a few extra steps towards the couch, hesitant, rarely having been faced with a guy crying and finding herself at a total loss.
“…are you all right?”
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Really?
Mortals would believe anything.
But some parts of it were more accurate, bits that tugged at everything inside him and filled him with a bittersweet longing, with flares of anger that burned white hot and then dimmed into loss. He had turned the page unsuspecting and been hit with tales of Frigga, Odin's wife, and just the sight of her name brought forth all the worst of what had happened. He missed her so dearly, and he detested himself for missing her. She had known the lie also, she had perpetuated it, why then did he miss her so?
"I believe I may be sickening with your cold." He had noticed streaming eyes were a symptom sometimes, perhaps she would believe such a lie. "It is nothing."
Loki shifted on the couch to make room for her to take a seat if she wanted to. He took the opportunity of his own movement to subtly wipe his eyes and take fierce control of himself, so that his expression could be managed into something more acceptable to be seen.
"What is it you have received? Good news, I trust?"
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