For the Love of a Princess -- Chapter 4/5
One chapter to go! Enjoy :)
Note: the second half of this chapter was the first part that popped into my head, while I was listening to this track from the Braveheart soundtrack:
Four
“I don’t care if he’s sleeping. Wake him up.”
Thor grins at the guard and hefts Mjolnir, wondering briefly if Jane has any Valkyrie ancestry.
The guard exits the room at a run and the sight makes Thor laugh, a rumble beginning deep in his chest. He doubts it’s Mjolnir the guard is so afraid of and feels a strange sense of optimism for the first time since Loki was brought back. Jane Foster is a remarkable woman.
Minutes pass and Jane paces faster and faster. “What’s taking him so long?” she mutters. “And how can he even sleep-”
Odin looks irritable (more so than usual) when he finally arrives, like one who hasn’t slept in days and who would like nothing more than to do just that. He opens his mouth-
“You let him out,” Jane says, suddenly right in front of him, chin raised. “You let him out now, you stubborn bastard.”
Odin looks old. Very old. “Why should I do that?” he asks, sounding weary.
“Because he’s your son and I love him and you’re not the only one who’s hurting.”
Odin stares down at her with narrowed eyes, then up over her head at Thor. “You love him,” he repeats. “I thought…”
Jane flushes, not realizing she’d spoken the words out loud. And that she’d also called the All-father a stubborn bastard to his face. I’m sorry, Thor.
“You thought wrong, Father.” Thor’s voice is grave but peaceful in a way she hadn’t been expecting.
Odin returns his attention to Jane. “And does he-my-Loki love you?”
I don’t know. Maybe. I think so? “That’s not the point,” she snaps. “He’s your son-”
“He tried to conquer your world and kill his brother-”
“And then he tried to save both of them - doesn’t that count for anything?”
They’re glaring at each other, neither willing to move, and Jane doesn’t care that he’s the All-father and a demi-god. All she cares about is the slight, almost imperceptible, glisten in his icy blue eyes. Please…
“And if I don’t?”
Jane feels herself deflate at the words. What had she been thinking? That one puny mortal - a puny mortal Odin doesn’t even like - could change the All-father’s mind? Idiot. She makes herself as tall as she can and raises her chin even higher. This is her last card, and it’s not much of one, but she’s willing to play it even if it blows up in her face. “Then you’ll have to put me in there with him.”
~
She stands on the ledge with one hand against the glass, Loki’s palm pressed on the other side. He is staring at her, eyes wide, face blank and white. The muscles in his neck are taut, straining, as though he is holding himself together by force of will alone. The glass shimmers and then-
The warmth of flesh on flesh, so sudden it makes her jump. Oh. Tears sting her eyes. Oh.
Loki stares at their hands and for a moment he looks like a little boy just awakened from a nightmare. Slowly, so slowly, as though he cannot believe it and is afraid it will all fade, his fingers move, sliding between her own. Her breath catches - he fits - and she tightens her grip. He responds and she feels comfort in the strength of his slender fingers.
“Jane.” It’s barely a whisper but she can hear it, can see the red rimming his eyes. He is holding himself so carefully it makes her heart ache.
“Loki.” She reaches up to touch his face, to move a matted lock of hair behind his ear. He ducks, leaning into her hand and she cradles him, the tips of her fingers running slowly along the side of his head, buried in his hair.
“Jane, I-”
Neither is sure who moves first but they are in each other’s arms and those watching cannot tell where one ends and the other begins, tangled as they are, holding on for dear life.
Thor looks on, smiling as tears stream down his face. At last he sees something good. Frigga had been right. Thank you, Mother.
Note: the second half of this chapter was the first part that popped into my head, while I was listening to this track from the Braveheart soundtrack:
Click to viewFour
“I don’t care if he’s sleeping. Wake him up.”
Thor grins at the guard and hefts Mjolnir, wondering briefly if Jane has any Valkyrie ancestry.
The guard exits the room at a run and the sight makes Thor laugh, a rumble beginning deep in his chest. He doubts it’s Mjolnir the guard is so afraid of and feels a strange sense of optimism for the first time since Loki was brought back. Jane Foster is a remarkable woman.
Minutes pass and Jane paces faster and faster. “What’s taking him so long?” she mutters. “And how can he even sleep-”
Odin looks irritable (more so than usual) when he finally arrives, like one who hasn’t slept in days and who would like nothing more than to do just that. He opens his mouth-
“You let him out,” Jane says, suddenly right in front of him, chin raised. “You let him out now, you stubborn bastard.”
Odin looks old. Very old. “Why should I do that?” he asks, sounding weary.
“Because he’s your son and I love him and you’re not the only one who’s hurting.”
Odin stares down at her with narrowed eyes, then up over her head at Thor. “You love him,” he repeats. “I thought…”
Jane flushes, not realizing she’d spoken the words out loud. And that she’d also called the All-father a stubborn bastard to his face. I’m sorry, Thor.
“You thought wrong, Father.” Thor’s voice is grave but peaceful in a way she hadn’t been expecting.
Odin returns his attention to Jane. “And does he-my-Loki love you?”
I don’t know. Maybe. I think so? “That’s not the point,” she snaps. “He’s your son-”
“He tried to conquer your world and kill his brother-”
“And then he tried to save both of them - doesn’t that count for anything?”
They’re glaring at each other, neither willing to move, and Jane doesn’t care that he’s the All-father and a demi-god. All she cares about is the slight, almost imperceptible, glisten in his icy blue eyes. Please…
“And if I don’t?”
Jane feels herself deflate at the words. What had she been thinking? That one puny mortal - a puny mortal Odin doesn’t even like - could change the All-father’s mind? Idiot. She makes herself as tall as she can and raises her chin even higher. This is her last card, and it’s not much of one, but she’s willing to play it even if it blows up in her face. “Then you’ll have to put me in there with him.”
~
She stands on the ledge with one hand against the glass, Loki’s palm pressed on the other side. He is staring at her, eyes wide, face blank and white. The muscles in his neck are taut, straining, as though he is holding himself together by force of will alone. The glass shimmers and then-
The warmth of flesh on flesh, so sudden it makes her jump. Oh. Tears sting her eyes. Oh.
Loki stares at their hands and for a moment he looks like a little boy just awakened from a nightmare. Slowly, so slowly, as though he cannot believe it and is afraid it will all fade, his fingers move, sliding between her own. Her breath catches - he fits - and she tightens her grip. He responds and she feels comfort in the strength of his slender fingers.
“Jane.” It’s barely a whisper but she can hear it, can see the red rimming his eyes. He is holding himself so carefully it makes her heart ache.
“Loki.” She reaches up to touch his face, to move a matted lock of hair behind his ear. He ducks, leaning into her hand and she cradles him, the tips of her fingers running slowly along the side of his head, buried in his hair.
“Jane, I-”
Neither is sure who moves first but they are in each other’s arms and those watching cannot tell where one ends and the other begins, tangled as they are, holding on for dear life.
Thor looks on, smiling as tears stream down his face. At last he sees something good. Frigga had been right. Thank you, Mother.