Thor Fic: "Kill all the pretty lies" (Darcy, Loki, PG-13), 7/10
LINK TO PART SIX
Title: Kill all the pretty lies (Part 7: Broken)
Characters/Pairings: Darcy, Loki, Thor, Jane, Erik, original characters including those based on Norse mythology, mention of Odin, Frigga, Sif, Warriors Three; Thor/Jane
Rating: PG-13 for adult situations, implied violence, mild language, angst and darkness
Length: 8,270 words
Summary: Darcy only wanted to get away for awhile. Loki only wanted to indulge his curiosity. But fate has set their paths to crossing, with each other and with something more; something that will prove to be very, very dangerous to the both of them.
Notes: For full notes and more information, see part one. Illustration by talented artist and close personal friend machi_neko whose other work can be seen on her deviantART page and personal site.
And remember, creative folk thrive on feedback - so if you like the story or the artwork, please please leave a comment and let us know! Thanks!
Part 7: Broken
Darcy was staring at Thor. Jane was staring at Thor. Erik was staring at Thor.
Thor, however, was staring at Lethia.
But instead of something similar to the three wide-eyed looks of utter bafflement he was unknowingly on the receiving end of, Thor was doing his staring in a completely different way.
He was shocked…but that shock was slowly giving way to unanticipated joy.
“Brother,” Thor repeated. He gave a faint laugh that sounded oddly broken. “I…I can’t believe it! When you fell from the Bifrost, I thought it for certain that you had died!”
He took a step forward, and then another more quickly as awoke from his overcome state. Reaching toward Lethia with those mighty forearms of his, clearly intending to embrace her.
“Why, this is wonderful-”
Lethia froze, at first, and then very swiftly wrenched herself back from his reach.
Thor stopped, his face falling. “What is the matter?” The big lump that was his adam’s apple visibly worked as his voice softened. “Are you still angry with me?”
“Who are you?” Lethia demanded, staring up at him in alarm and intimidation - a pretty understandable reaction to some giant stranger trying to hug you and seeming to think you had the completely wrong genitalia, Darcy figured.
Thor blinked, catching on. “Then it is true, after all, that you have lost your memories?” he questioned. “It is not some trick?”
“Of course it’s true,” Jane exclaimed, getting up from her chair at the kitchen table. “What an awful thing to say!” She walked towards Thor, gawking at him. “Why would somebody lie about something like that?”
Thor gave a strained chuckle, trying to placate her. “If you but knew my brother…”
Okay. Darcy had had about enough of the wacky bullshit, and she couldn’t go being quiet any longer.
“Thor,” she said, in what she suspected was going to end up being her ‘talking sense to the crazy Viking alien’ tone, “Lethia can’t possibly be your brother. Because in case you’ve somehow failed to notice, she’s a woman.”
Thor opted to make the situation even more bizarre by giving a dismissive sound. Like, ‘Oh, you mortals and your quaint notions of things like proper gender’.
“My brother Loki is a master of magic,” he explained. “He has changed his shape many times before. Including to that of a more feminine guise.” He looked sideways at Lethia again, offering her a cordial smile. “Hence why I recognize it now. I have seen this one before.”
Darcy couldn’t help herself from muttering, wooden, “You’ve gotta be freaking kidding me.”
Jane frowned at Thor in puzzlement. “But, you said you thought your brother was dead. Why? What happened to him?”
“Did you say Loki?” Erik’s face had gone an entire shade paler than usual.
“There was…an incident,” Thor said, evasively. “But it doesn’t matter now. Everything can be made right again.”
Jane shook her head, irritated. “But-”
“I still can’t believe-” Darcy started.
Erik opened his mouth as well, but he never got out more than a syllable.
“No. You’re wrong.”
At the sound of Lethia’s voice, curt and a bit louder than usual, everyone turned to look at her in surprise.
She was gazing at Thor intently, face screwed into an affronted mask, shoulders rigid and hands worked into fists.
“I don’t know you,” she snapped at him. “I am not who you think I am.” She repeated, “You’re wrong.”
And then without another word she spun around and hurried from the room.
Thor started to go after her, distressed, but Jane quickly put herself in his way stopping him.
“Thor, wait. It’s pretty obvious she doesn’t want to talk to you, at least not right now.” Gingerly she reached out to place a hand on his arm. Her voice was patient but insistent as she continued, “But in the meantime, there are still a few things that need to be explained.”
“What needs explaining?” Thor demanded. There was an almost desperate undercurrent to his tone. “Loki is my younger brother. He was lost to us all this time past, at the destruction of the Bifrost. Now he is found again. Whether or not he remembers who and what he is at present, does not change that!”
“Well I still have some questions,” Jane stated.
Thor made that one expression of his that always reminded Darcy of a puppy that was being scolded and had no idea what it’d done wrong.
Unfortunately for Thor, while Jane had a weakness for just about all of his faces, the puppy-dog one she was strangely immune to.
With very little effort she was able to steer Thor back into one of the empty kitchen chairs, and got him to sit down.
“All right,” she began. “For starters, if I’m remembering this right, wasn’t your brother the one that sent that huge suit of armor thing that tried to kill everyone?”
“The one that shot fire from its face hole?” Darcy put in.
“The one that almost killed you?” Jane stressed, apparently needing to have the last word.
Thor looked uncomfortable. “Yes,” he admitted. “But that was-”
“Was what? A misunderstanding? Light-hearted family fun?” Jane scowled at him. “Please, tell me, Thor, because I’m really not getting it. Why would your own brother be trying to murder you?”
Thor shot to his feet, muscles taut and teeth clenched with indignation. The energy behind his sudden motion caused his plastic chair to fall over and skitter a bit along the floor.
Erik grabbed at Darcy’s wrist but he didn’t need to - she was already reflexively moving back, along with him.
Only Jane remained exactly where she was, arms folded, unblinking.
At the reserve in her expression, something in Thor’s crumbled.
“It is…complicated,” he told her, pleadingly. “And I am sorry I cannot tell you more than that. Truly I am.” He swallowed. “My brother…did an awful thing. But I am loathe to try and explain it to you, because I…I am not gifted in words. They have never been my strength.”
Thor hung his head, looking more defeated than Darcy thought she’d ever seen him. “And there is no good way for me to truthfully relate my brother’s actions without coloring him as something he is not.” He sighed. “The only person who has any right to explain, I think, is Loki himself. Because he alone knows his motivations for how he acted. I certainly do not, though I have tried time and time again to understand, since it happened.”
Jane’s face softened, distressed. “Thor…”
When she placed a hand on his cheek he reached to grasp it in his, meeting her eyes.
“I knew Loki all of my life,” he said. “We grew up together. But in the wake of what happened I am starting to think…maybe I never truly understood him.”
It sounded like a painful thing for him to admit.
There was a poignant silence that stretched on for long enough it started to get awkward. Jane cleared her throat.
“So,” she managed, trying to compose herself again, “your relationship with your brother is…complex. Good to know. But what happened to him?”
“When the Bifrost was destroyed, there was a void created,” Thor said. “I believe it resembled something you once described to me as a ‘dark hole’.”
“Black hole,” Jane corrected automatically. And then she looked horrified. “He fell into a black hole?”
“Yes.” Thor hesitated long enough that there was clearly more to that part, but no one really wanted to press him just then. “I’ve no idea how he survived, or ended up on your world. Or what could’ve happened to him since then.”
The entire time they’d been speaking, Erik was massaging the bridge of his nose and his forehead with one hand. “I’m sorry,” he interjected at last. “Did you say that your brother’s name was Loki?”
“Let me guess.” Darcy looked at him, weary. “You know that one from the myths, too?”
“From the stories of my childhood, yes.” Erik gave Thor a very wan grin. “Your brother has quite the reputation.”
“Loki has always been a player of mischief, a spinner of falsehoods, all in the name of his amusement,” Thor stated. “He never meant any harm by it.”
“Among the Norsemen he was known as the god of deceit and lies,” Erik stressed, far from convinced. “About half of the stories’ problems have him as the cause of it. If I recall correctly, he was even said to play a part in bringing about the destruction of the world.”
“Your ‘stories’ are just that,” Thor thundered, offended, and Darcy finally realized where she recognized this type of bluster from - the big brother standing up for his younger sibling. “How dare you imply that some tall tale spoken by mere mortals, by old men thousands of years ago, could capture the truth of what we are!”
“Thor, calm down.” Jane put herself between the two of them. “Erik’s just trying to figure this out. The same as the rest of us.”
Erik had his hands raised defensively, eyes nervous, but he nodded in agreement. “I mean you…and your family, no offense.” Thor backed off at that though he was still visibly on-edge. “You have to understand, it’s a little difficult to transition from treating beings you’ve always thought of as half-forgotten lore to real, living people.”
Thor nodded, but it looked like he barely listened to what Erik said. He’d started pacing restlessly across one end of the room by the sink.
“I only wish I knew what has happened to Loki,” he said aloud. “Why he is hiding in that form, and why he cannot remember me or anything else.”
“Are we sure he isn’t lying?” Jane asked the question as delicately as she could. “I mean, both you and Erik did mention he kind of has a thing for doing that.”
“You’re the one who thought he wasn’t faking,” Thor pointed out. Jane sighed, eyes briefly going heavenward.
“Well, yeah, but that was before I knew…everything,” she explained. “Besides, if what you say is true, then he’s an Asgardian right? I’ve seen the kind of damage you and your other friends could take. What could he have gone through that could possibly cause him to lose his memories?”
“Falling through a wormhole to another dimension, and god only knows where else, for a start,” Erik offered. “I don’t know the limits of your people, Thor, but I’m willing to bet even for one of you, that’d be pretty rough.”
“Perhaps,” Thor responded, forehead wrinkled in thought.
Darcy was pretty sure the others had forgotten she was there, judging from the surprised expressions on all three of them when she spoke. “Does your brother have a birthmark? Or like, a tattoo? On the back of his neck?”
“A…no.” Thor gave her a perplexed look. “He has no mark of any sort there that I have ever seen. Why do you ask?”
“Well,” Darcy pulled out her iPhone, bringing up the picture she had taken that very first day, “because Lethia does.” She handed her phone to Thor. “See?”
Thor squinted at the device’s screen at first, as if he wasn’t sure how to look at it. But as it came together for him he slowly sat down, leaning his body against the countertop behind him. He looked at the picture of the round reddish mark with deep scrutiny.
“One of the people they had working at the dig, her specialty is linguistics,” Darcy said, mainly to fill up the silence. “When I showed that to her she said it seemed to resemble a Nordic rune, but it wasn’t any actual symbol she’d ever seen before.”
“It is a rune. But not one belonging to any mortal nation,” Thor replied, slowly. “I recognize this pattern now - it’s a type of magic, practiced on Asgard by those they call rune mages.”
Jane ducked over to stare at the image herself, and Erik attempted to crane his head around her for a look as well.
“Are you telling us that that’s some sort of magic spell?” Jane asked Thor, aghast.
“Yes. I read very few runes myself, but this one I do know. It’s the sign once used for one of my father’s messenger ravens.”
“Odin’s ravens,” Erik said, evidently recognizing that story as well. “Their names were Huginn and Munnin. Thought, and-”
“Memory,” Thor finished. He turned the screen of Darcy’s iPhone towards them and tapped it with his thumb. “This is the rune of munnin.”
Darcy quickly took her phone back from Thor, because his expression suggested that if he held onto it much longer he was going to crush it without thinking.
“Someone,” Thor intoned, grimly, “has used sorcery to block my brother’s memory.”
*
The better part of a day had passed, and Jane had come to realize she was completely off her schedule.
For the past few months, ever since the series of events that’d started her working with SHIELD, she’d as good as lived for her research. Even more so than she had before which, given the pattern of her life, was saying something. Every day was devoted to reviewing data and coming up with new ideas and progress.
And then Thor had returned. Unexpected, unplanned, but far from unwanted.
Suddenly research didn’t matter quite as much anymore. Work was far less important.
Thor was here, and this time he seemed to intend to stay. Jane found herself spontaneously making a new schedule for her life, one with room for him.
There were still plenty of ‘mortal’ things he needed to be introduced to. Earth things that she wanted to show him. And at some point of course they’d have to let SHIELD know he was around, Jane expected there would be questions to answer and forms to fill out or something; Agent Coulson would want to finally debrief him. And, it occurred to her she really needed to find herself an apartment - living in an RV wouldn’t cut it anymore, not if she was constantly going to be having a ‘guest’ around.
Jane hadn’t exactly sat down and made a list. In her head, though, there was a list.
But then, when things hadn’t even begun to get settled, Darcy had brought her new friend home with her, and everything was shaken up again.
Jane couldn’t help but wonder if this was a preview. Things had been turbulent enough during Thor’s first visit to their world, after all.
Was this what life would always be like, having someone like him around?
Jane sighed. And then, shaking her head, she poured two mugs of coffee and went to find Thor.
She found him sitting outside on the ground next to where they’d parked the van, his back against the side of it. Long legs half stretched out before him, he was gazing upward at the building. Jane followed his eyes and found herself looking at Darcy’s room: the curtain was drawn but she could see two figures moving behind it.
Presumably, Darcy and Lethia…or was it Loki? What should she even call her? Or, was she supposed to think of ‘her’ as a ‘him’?
Jane gave another jerk of her head to clear it. “Here.” She crouched to hand Thor one of the mugs, and he took it without comment. “It’s hot, so, when you take a sip be careful not to burn your tongue-”
Thor took a deep drink from the coffee and didn’t seem the least bit bothered.
“…Of course,” Jane finished, lamely. She’d forgotten now that he had his full powers back, Thor’s limitations were even less than they’d been before.
She held her cup in both hands, absorbing the warmth, and let the air lapse into silence.
After a minute, Thor said, quietly, “He still won’t speak to me. In fact, he’s hiding from me. I suppose it’s strange I should even be surprised - our parting was not on the best of terms.”
Jane carefully slid down against the van, lowering herself until she was sitting beside Thor.
“You really missed him,” she observed softly, “didn’t you?”
“Yes. In the time since my return home, I have found my thoughts dwelling on him constantly.”
Thor ducked his head to look at the ground a moment, pensive, and then he met her eyes. “On him, and…on you.”
Jane smiled, and there it was - that fluttering in her stomach, that happened whenever her eyes and Thor’s locked. The one that made her suddenly a twelve year old schoolgirl again, giggling and daydreaming of a boy whose locker was four down from hers, the one she’d never spoken to yet somehow her whole world revolved around. She bit her lip, and could feel herself flush.
Thor was still looking at her, and now he was smiling as well. Gentle. His eyes seemed a completely different shade of intoxicating blue.
“Jane,” he said, and nothing else. As if that one word, her name, was more than enough.
For some reason Jane could feel her eyes misting. Her face crinkled up as she tried to fight the stupid, pointless, completely misplaced tears.
“I thought about you all the time too,” she told him, and it was true. She’d thought about him as she worked, as she went about her day, even as she slept. Her dreams were all about the shape of his body in both her ex’s clothes and the armor she’d glimpsed him in, the feel of his hand around hers, little flashes of blond hair, golden skin and storm cloud colored eyes.
She’d thought about him so much in fact, that she’d tried to convince herself she was being ridiculous. They had known each other a grand total of three days. That wasn’t long enough to have fallen in love.
But it was long enough, to get a feel for things. To know that there was something there.
“I was so afraid,” Thor confessed, all in a rush, “that you would’ve chosen to forget about me. That you’d mistakenly think when I failed to return it was because I didn’t wish to, not because I could not.”
“I was scared of that, at first.” Jane forced a weak laugh; “It crossed my mind more than a few times. But, you’d promised me, that you were going to come back. And I…believed you. The way you said it, it sounded like I could trust you at your word. And so when you didn’t show up again,” Jane gave a twitchy shrug, “I guess I just realized something must’ve happened.”
“I am so glad that you didn’t give up searching,” Thor told her. “That you didn’t stop trying.” His face broke out in a wide grin and Jane found herself giggling as she automatically mirrored him. “It’s because of you now that we’re together again.”
“Eventually I’ll perfect my method,” Jane said, hurried. “It might take some more time, but we’ll be able to create an Einstein-Rosen bridge whenever we want to, not just during pre-existing climate events, and it’ll be much more stable. You won’t have to stay stranded on Earth. You’ll be able to come and go as you please.”
But even as she was speaking Thor already started fiercely shaking his head.
“It doesn’t matter. Jane, listen to me.” Reaching out he cupped her chin in his fingertips. “None of that matters right now. As long as I am with you. That’s the decision I made, when I came through the portal, and I intend to stand by it.”
“…Oh,” Jane breathed, a giddy laugh falling from her lips before she could stop herself.
Hadn’t she told herself she was too old for romantic daydreams, the day she’d set aside her dolls in favor of her first science kit? Hadn’t that been what she thought it meant to be an adult?
So why did Thor’s sweeping gestures of chivalry always turn her to mush?
Oh well, Jane thought to herself, as Thor pulled her in for a kiss. She was just going to have to get used to it.
After all, practice made perfect.
*
Darcy hadn’t really spoken much to Lethia all day, outside of practical things like “Do you want lunch?”, “Have you seen my iPod?”, or “That top looks really good on you.”
The way she figured it, she was still in a state of shock and confusion over the whole thing.
By evening however she decided she’d avoided the issue long enough.
Of course it only figured at that time, she couldn’t find Lethia anywhere.
There was no sign of her in the kitchen, the bathroom, or Darcy’s own room, and she wasn’t taking a nap on the couch. Erik was in the lab and hadn’t seen her, Thor and Jane had gone ‘for a walk’ (she was so sure), and it seemed unlikely she’d decided to hide herself inside the van.
Darcy was on the point of giving up when she remembered the roof.
Stealthily climbing up there, which for her meant creeping along with an exaggerated slowness of motion like she was in a cartoon, she found Lethia standing close by the edge.
Her hair drifted a bit in the wind behind her as she hugged herself lightly, staring up at the rapidly darkening night sky.
Geeze, even when she brooded she looked picturesque. Maybe she really was an Asgardian pseudo-god.
“Taking in the view, huh,” Darcy remarked, coming over to join her.
Lethia came out of her daze just enough to spare her a glance, then nodded absently before returning to her thoughts. Darcy sighed.
“Look. I think we need to talk.”
“I am not going to have anything to do with that man.” Lethia pressed her mouth into a line, her lips going white. “You cannot make me.”
Darcy examined her face for a moment before asking, slowly, “Do you really not remember anything?”
That got Lethia’s attention. She twisted her body completely to face Darcy, eyes wide and face wrought with angry hurt at the implied accusation.
“Of course I don’t! I have no reason to lie about that, do I?” she demanded. “Why would you say that to me? I thought you were my friend.”
“Calm down,” Darcy ordered her, evenly. “You’re right, I am your friend. Which is why I can’t ignore what’s going on here. There’s something you’re not telling me, and as your friend I can’t just let that go.”
Lethia blinked a few times, rapidly, and started guiltily to turn her head. Darcy moved a few steps closer so that Lethia couldn’t ignore her; short of turning her back completely or shutting her eyes, there was no way to remove Darcy from her line of sight.
“Ever since I met you, you’ve wanted nothing more than to figure out who you are, where you came from,” Darcy reminded her. “You’ve been totally desperate for information. Now, someone comes along who claims to know everything about you, and you won’t even talk to him? All of a sudden you know just enough to be sure that Thor’s wrong and anything he has to say is a waste of time? Do you really expect me to buy that?”
“Darcy…” Lethia all but whimpered. Darcy reached out to put a hand on her arm, gentle but firm.
“Tell me what’s going on,” she asked her. “Please.”
Lethia closed her eyes, exhaling. When she opened them again she lifted her head towards the stars, even though she didn’t appear to really see them, before meeting Darcy’s gaze.
“I don’t remember anything more than I did three days ago. Really.” She paused. “It’s just that, ever since I set eyes on him-”
“You mean Thor?”
“Yes. Thor.” Lethia pronounced his name carefully, tasting it on her tongue. “Now whenever I try looking toward my past…I find myself not wanting to dwell on it any more.”
She pulled away from Darcy and went back to looking outward off the roof, wrapping her arms around herself more tightly. Darcy couldn’t help noticing her nails were still perfect. How unfair. It just figured; Darcy’s polish was already halfway chipped off.
“When I look back, I feel such…guilt, and shame,” Lethia murmured. “I think I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to remember who I am after all. Maybe I really am better off this way.”
“Are you sure?” Darcy questioned, trying to understand but having an admittedly hard time of it. “You think it’s best, you not knowing any of your own life? Having to start from a total blank slate?”
“The way things are now…I admit, I feel lost, but I have faith that I can be happy,” Lethia told her frantically. “When I think about my other life, what sense I get from that…” She swallowed, and shook her head. “I’m not sure if the same is true.”
“You really think that it could be that bad?” Darcy was skeptical.
Lethia’s head shook some more before she could get out the words. “Darcy, what if I-” But then she stopped.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Lethia said. Her voice was soft but closed off. “Never mind.”
Darcy looked at her own shoes for about thirty seconds while she tried to think of what to say next. What she could possibly say in response to any of it.
Finally she went, “You’re really not the least bit curious, if whether or not what Thor had to say down there is true? You’re not maybe…weirded out by any of it?”
Lethia gave her a confused frown. “What do you mean?”
“Well, for starters,” Darcy pointed out, “if it’s the truth, then that means you’re really a guy.”
Lethia laughed shortly, a mixture of amused and endeared. “Oh, Darcy. Only you would fixate on that first, out of everything else.”
“So it…seriously doesn’t bother you,” Darcy insisted.
Lethia tilted her head, considering it, and then shrugged carelessly. “No. It doesn’t.”
“Huh. Interesting.” Darcy wondered if it was an Asgardian thing. Or maybe, what with the way Thor went on about his brother being a shape-shifter, it was more inherent than that: maybe, deep down, some part of Lethia already knew she was supposed to be male and had decided the point was moot.
It was still utterly bizarre to think about, far as Darcy was concerned.
The two of them stood there for a moment, side by side, in companionable silence. Darcy watched the stars looking for any comets or satellites. Half hoping she didn’t see any, because that was the sort of thing Jane always griped at her about needing to write down. She was close enough to Lethia that their shoulders were practically touching.
Lethia looked at her from the side. “What’s going to happen to me now?” The question was almost timid. Darcy blinked.
“The same thing that was going to happen before, I guess,” she replied. “We talk to SHIELD, maybe. See if there isn’t anything they can do. But I guess if you’re really not into finding out where you’re from anymore, now it’s more about like, getting you settled.”
“Settled?” Lethia repeated.
“Getting you legal documentation and stuff so you can find a job, a place to live, sign up for email and Facebook.” Darcy smiled at her, shrugging. “That sort of thing.”
“Ah yes, this Facebook device of yours,” Lethia said slowly, recalling. “The source of near-infinite knowledge about anyone else.”
“Well not if they’re using their security features correctly. But uh, yeah, that’s pretty close.”
“You’ll have to teach me how it works.”
“Sure. Of course.” Darcy placed an arm around her shoulder, and Lethia gave in automatically, letting her pull her body closer. “I’ll show you the ropes.”
*
The afternoon’s sun was high when Brynhild left the village, claiming that she was going out to hunt.
At the edge of the tree line was a concealed indent behind a rock that served her well in the past as a hiding place. There she left her weapons and pack for safekeeping, to be retrieved later.
It was considered respectful, to approach the home of the shaman unarmed.
Brynhild was somewhat surprised to find Selinde alone, outside, for she’d not seen Ve around since much earlier that same morning.
“Hail Brynhild, leader among many, slayer of all who oppose her,” Selinde greeted her loftily. She did not rise from whatever task she was about; tossing ashes upon the remains of a fire’s embers, her arms hidden in all but brief glimpses by the thick pelt of her cloak.
“Hail Selinde of the People, Selene of the Aesir, shaman of the generation of my mother and her mother before her, and,” Brynhild grinned, “as of this day, a bride soon-to-be. Though may she not tarry as one for long, but pass on into becoming wife.”
“Have you come all this way then, to deliver me congratulations?” Selinde asked her. There was something shrewd about her tone. “I am receiving today so many visitors.”
“I can only imagine. But where is your betrothed? I confess I did expect him to be also here to greet me.”
“Oh, he rides over the hills, at present.” Selinde smiled. “He is with his brother Vili.”
“Attending to some rite of preparation, then,” Brynhild gathered. Glancing about her she could see that Selinde must’ve already been planning to add to or remake her hut as Ve was joined to her household. Most of the usual adornments had been removed from the outer walls and through the door Brynhild could see some sacks packed. “Or who knows, perhaps merely engaging in some sentimental fest, before their friendship is severed by marriage.”
“Why, they have all the time in the world together, Brynhild,” Selinde said sweetly. “I would not dream of parting them.”
“You are in high spirit today,” Brynhild observed. Tilting her head she looked at Selinde more closely. “There is very clearly something different about you.”
Indeed the shaman seemed to possess a greater energy than ever been before. She all but visibly glowed with this strange new vitality.
Selinde went entirely still. Lifting her head she met Brynhild’s eyes carefully.
“Is there?”
Brynhild smiled, nodding. “It must be the anticipation,” she guessed, teasing her. “The blush of the waiting bride.”
Selinde chuckled, her mouth twisting with amusement. “Ah yes, of course. What else could it be?”
Bending down she scooped one last handful of ashes onto the dead fire. “But I will waste no more words with you, warrior Brynhild. I know your mind and your nature, and you did not come all this way during your good hunting time to bless me only.”
Brynhild bowed her head in concession. “I would speak on a matter with you. One most secret and dear to my heart,” she confessed in a rush. “Your impending marriage, though time of great happiness for us all, has made it impossible to bear my own desires in silence any longer.”
“Ah,” Selinde noted, “you speak of love. Your infatuation with Sigurd Reginsward.”
Brynhild felt her cheeks color. “Am I so obvious?”
“Depends on who you ask.” Selinde considered it. “Perhaps not to Sigurd.”
“That is my very problem,” Brynhild groused. She carried herself to a nearby rock and sat on it, melancholic. “Sigurd admires me as a warrior I know, but what does he think of me as a woman?”
“Presuming that he has eyes and the full use of them, that you are striking to look upon, and without equal in battle,” Selinde responded, flatly.
“But…” Brynhild wrung her hands together. “It is said that among his people, women are not fighters or hunters. They are…timid, dainty things. What if that is what he prefers? What if I am not at all to his liking?” When Selinde did not speak at first, Brynhild added, “I have seen him often look with favor on my sister, Gudrun.”
Selinde’s expression was calculating, her clever mind at work as she took in all that Brynhild was saying to her.
“Maybe he does love Gudrun and not you, Brynhild,” Selinde spoke to her, with soft intensity. “Maybe she has already caught his eye. Such a shame, since you both have the same beauty. But if that’s the case, what is to be done?”
Brynhild pressed her mouth shut tightly before she risked speaking again. “Surely there must be something. Something, that with your power…?”
“A charm of some kind?” Selinde offered helpfully. “A spell, to help you win over his heart?”
“I would not have you…enslave him to me,” Brynhild told her, hesitant.
“Not at all,” Selinde was swift to assure her. Stepping closer to the warrior, she gestured. “I can brew a potion that will enhance your natural attraction, the desire you arouse, in Sigurd’s eyes. It won’t overwhelm his senses but rather help him to realize what he should already feel. For surely, yours was a union destined to be.”
“You will do this for me?” Brynhild demanded, excited. She shot to her feet. “You’ll intercede on my behalf?”
“I’ll need some help, from you.”
“Anything. Name it.”
“A lock of your hair, for one,” Selinde mused. “It will have to go in the potion.”
There was a small knife on her belt that Brynhild had not removed with her other weapons, for it was more suited to eating than killing. In a flash she drew it and cut the end from one of her unbound tresses. She pressed it into Selinde’s hand.
“There. Done. What else?”
Selinde’s fingers closed tightly around the flaxen bit of hair. “Oh, just that I will need to see Sigurd alone,” she added. “In order for it to work best, when I weave my magic nothing can interrupt us.”
“I can easily come up with some excuse to send him to you,” Brynhild said with great eagerness. “Oh, Selinde. Truly you are my friend, for this!”
“Why not at all, Brynhild. Think nothing of it.” Selinde lowered her eyes and bowed, a thin smile splitting the length of her face. “It would only be too wonderful, if all who lived could be as happy as I am on this day.”
*
Thor woke early the next day, quick to find everyone else was still abed but unable to fall back to sleep. He made his way to the kitchen in search of sustenance.
As soon as he stepped into the room however he realized he was not alone. Loki stood with his back to him, pulling something from the cupboard.
Thor froze, uncertain what to do or say. It turned out he didn’t need to do anything: Loki sensed he was no longer by himself almost instantly. Turning he saw Thor and he flinched back, caging himself by the countertops, eyes wide and frightened as he looked around for an escape.
Thor let a slow, reassuring smile form across his face, sickened by the fact he had to treat his own brother like some wild animal ready to bolt.
“Good morning,” Thor greeted in an even cordial tone. He made a gesture to indicate the foil-wrapped poptart still in Loki’s hand. “You know, they’re even better if you warm them up first,” he said helpfully - a discovery he’d made far into his first visit to Midgard, which had both surprised and delighted him.
Loki’s responding tone was far from cordial, or reassured. “Stay away from me,” he snapped.
This wasn’t going to work. Thor dropped the pretense and let his disappointment show.
“Why do you hide from me?” he demanded, unhappily. “I have done nothing to harm you that you know of.”
“That I know of,” Loki repeated, with meaningful emphasis. “Interesting choice of words.”
Careful, Thor told himself. Despite not remembering who he was, Loki was still clearly very much Loki. Perhaps worst of all, a Loki without the context to trust him. If Thor wanted to persuade him of anything he’d have to speak with care.
“I am not the cause for your loss of memory,” Thor insisted. “I want only to help you.”
“I don’t need your ‘help’. I don’t want it,” Loki said, in almost the exact same thin, vicious tone he’d used during their fight at the Bifrost. Thor’s heart ached at the recollection: ‘I’m not your brother. I never was.’
It wasn’t true. Thor would never let it be.
“You do not know what you’re saying,” he said hoarsely, voice rough as he forced it to action past the clenching of his throat. Loki glanced past him, contemplating whether or not he could run by Thor and get out. Thor felt compelled to reach out beseechingly. “Brother, please!”
“Why do you keep calling me ‘brother’?” Loki cried, exasperated. He gesticulated with both hands wildly near his head. “Do you not have eyes? Are you insane?”
Automatically Thor followed Loki’s indications, taking in the female body within which he currently resided. Truly it was a masterful illusion. If he hadn’t already known it was possible, if he hadn’t seen it before, Thor might have not realized. But there was still something of Loki about the proportions if not the general shape, and there was familiarity lurking in the angles of her face, somewhere in the nose and the cheeks and the chin. The hair, though longer, was still Loki’s, and the eyes were undoubtedly his.
He could distantly remember the first time Loki had ever changed into a woman. They’d been well into their period as youths, their paths already diverging as Thor excelled ever more as a warrior while Loki had all but given up on the martial arts in favor of books and tomes of sorcery.
It had been, it’d seemed, an odd time for it: the gender line, the difference between boys and girls was becoming ever clearer, more meaningful by the day. The desire to know what one was, to feel secure it in was pressing; to begin experimenting with making changes to one’s self, even temporary ones brought about by magic, seemed problematic at best. Looking back Thor honestly doubted he himself would’ve had the courage.
But not only had Loki done it, he’d gone about it in as showy a manner as possible. A late entrant to dinner, the entire hall had gone silent at the distantly recognizable figure that had strode in and seated herself at the second prince’s spot at the table, calmly asking Thor to pour her a glass of mead.
Frigga had, unsurprisingly, stopped blinking the fastest of any of them. “Thor, your brother has made you a request,” she chided him, mildly.
And considering some of the other things Loki had already done by then with his magic, it was probably one of the least outlandish and definitely the least literally explosive.
But the room had filled with a muted cacophony of mutters, sniggers, and some more lewd remarks. The outrage was one thing, but the slander was another: most of the worst catcalls halted the instant the All-Father ‘accidentally’ slammed his goblet down too hard. But even he could not silent every mouth in the hall. It would’ve been impossible.
“It has to be a glamour,” Fandral muttered. He was giving Loki such close scrutiny that would’ve made Thor incensed were it actually his sister. “You can’t have truly…Sif, pinch him. See if it’s real.”
“Do it yourself,” she returned, annoyed.
Loki leaned back in a way that presented certain parts of ‘her’ anatomy that almost seemed accidental. Almost. “By all means, good sir Fandral,” he said to him, smooth. “Would you like to examine me more fully?”
Fandral stammered and then, as Hogun and Volstagg fell to mocking him instead, turned beet red and actually tried to sink under the table.
Loki had sat through it all with a composed expression, acting as though he heard not a word of any of it.
Afterward on the way back to their rooms, Thor had accosted him, and almost sighed in relief as Loki released the spell the instant Thor grabbed his arm, reverting to his male self.
“I was almost afraid you’d gotten yourself stuck that way,” Thor said, jokingly.
“You have such little faith in my ability?” Loki asked in response, mild. He glanced at the hand on his forearm. “Thor, you’re squeezing. Let go.”
“Sorry.” Thor shook himself off, sheepish. “I just don’t understand. Why do it? Why would you wish to learn such a thing?”
“Why not?” Loki returned. He shrugged beneath his cloak. “I can think of a few ways where it might come in useful.” His eyes were bright as they met Thor’s carefully. “Besides. Maybe I only wanted to prove to myself that I could.”
And Thor could see it now, with the clarity of hindsight. For all Loki’s careless nonchalance that had been as good as an invitation, an opening to praise him for his cleverness and skill. It would only have been fair: a small compliment on his progress, like the ones he paid to Thor constantly whenever he did well at his own lessons, even though Loki cared about as much for Thor’s feats of brute strength as Thor did for sorcery. A reassurance after the names he’d been called at dinner, to make it all worthwhile.
But Thor hadn’t said anything of the kind. Instead he’d laughed, patting Loki on the shoulder and telling him again that he didn’t understand him, but he was free to do whatever he liked.
In his memory, it was hard to see Loki’s responding smile as anything but forced.
In the present, Thor managed to keep his voice relatively calm. “I have already explained the reason for that.”
“Oh yes, of course. How could I have forgotten?” Loki’s eyes rolled upward. “Not only am I from some different world entirely, but I’m also a powerful sorcerer, able to take on other shapes at a whim. Not at all an outlandish tale in the slightest.”
He gave Thor a flabbergasted look of incredulity. “I mean, are you entirely serious; you actually believe that? Do you have any idea how crazed that sounds?”
Thor felt the urge to smile, despite how saddened he felt. He recognized this trick: it wasn’t that Loki had any doubts himself. He was only pretending, the better to push the emotion off onto Thor. He wanted Thor to doubt it could actually be true, and therefore leave him in peace.
“Why do you want nothing to do with me?” Thor said, honestly, “I don’t understand.”
Loki stopped. His free hand curled into a fist, digging into his chest near his heart. The action was so emotive it had to be unconscious.
“I don’t know what happened, or how it has anything to do with you,” he whispered, “but every time I look at you I feel like a darkness is about to swallow me whole. There is so much despair - if that’s what I am to gain by an association with you, then I don’t want it.”
Thor was stilled to his very core. “That’s all that you can see, when you try to remember? That’s all you that you feel: despair?”
What about the entire life they’d shared together, when they were children? All the adventures they’d had as young men? Had all that happiness been erased in Loki’s heart entirely in those final moments, eaten up by the pain and rage Thor had been too blind, too stupid to see building?
“What, isn’t that enough?” Loki said, with strained casualness. He scoffed. “Can you blame me for choosing not to remember, if the past is so terrible? Can you fault me for not wanting to go back?”
An awful thought occurred to Thor: could Loki have cast the rune magic on himself, to erase his own memories?
Surely the last time he’d seen him, his brother had been in an unhinged state. He had already proved himself capable of things Thor would’ve previously never thought.
But no, he reassured himself: Loki prized his control, his self-reliance too much. He would never have willingly put himself in such a vulnerable condition.
The knowledge was very little comfort, though, after having mourned and longed for his brother so long, to have him right in front of him and yet still denied him.
“It isn’t fair,” Thor said, knowing he was reverting to childlike selfishness but unable to stop himself. “You have no idea how much this hurts me. I want my brother back.”
“And what would happen to me, then, when he returns?” Loki asked coolly.
Thor stomped a foot, exasperated. “You are already him!” he cried.
Loki only blinked at the outburst instead of fleeing or shying back. “Maybe that’s the part that worries me,” he admitted.
Thor’s anger vanished instantly in his confusion. “What do you mean?”
Loki opened his mouth and the quickly shut it again, wordless. The silence stretched on for what seemed a tense eternity before finally he spoke.
“What did he do, anyway?” he asked quietly. “Your brother?”
Thor’s heart leapt to his throat. “I don’t understand the question,” he lied.
Loki shook his head ruefully, clearly knowing that wasn’t the case. He hesitated yet again before meeting Thor’s eyes with unblinking intensity.
“He was a terrible person,” he said slowly, his voice filled with fear, “wasn’t he?”
Thor was struck dumb at first, but at last he pried his mouth open. He tried to ignore the phantom pain he felt gripping his chest, the dread that churned in his stomach.
“No,” he insisted. “No…it is true, he made a mistake. He did terrible things.” Thor’s voice had become a plea. “But my brother was not a bad man. There was no true evil in his soul.”
Loki’s face had hardened.
“I don’t believe you,” he said. Without another word he left the room, leaving Thor staring after him, devastated.
Thor sank heavily into one of the plastic chairs, face dropping into his hands.
So that was the truth of who Loki was, without his thoughts twisted around inside his head and the knowledge of how to deceive himself.
He didn’t only hate Thor. He despised himself, as well.
*
The situation was a tense one, to say the least. Darcy had gotten pretty sick of that whole ‘walking on eggshells’ feeling, but what could they do about it?
Lethia resolutely still didn’t want anything to do with Thor. Thor still maintained Lethia was really his brother, but now he was avoiding her as well.
There was a lot of ducking out of rooms constantly in their mutual hurry to stay the hell away from one another. At times it almost seemed like they were chasing one another in a giant circle through the house. Darcy kind of wanted to start playing the Benny Hill theme - or start screaming at them to knock it off and start acting like grownups.
Jane just wanted to be alone with Thor a lot, talking science at him or asking questions about Asgard and the Bifrost or cuddling up with him on the couch.
Erik called Agent Coulson to apprise him of the situation, had left his Norse mythology book sitting on one of the tables in the lab open to ‘L’, and announced he was going to the bar.
He hadn’t come back since.
Darcy, out of lack of anything better to do, was stuck marking star chart data and muttering to herself without even her iPod to keep her company, since she was pretty sure Lethia had borrowed it.
When her cell phone rang, she practically dove on it with relief.
“Hello?”
“Darcy? It’s me.”
Ruth’s voice was at first somewhat unrecognizable, not just because of the static of occasional interference but also the trembling note to her tone. It sounded like she’d been crying.
“Ruth? What…what’s wrong?’ Darcy sat up straighter. “What’s happening?”
She was the opposite of reassured when Ruth bit back a sob. “Oh god, Darcy. It’s awful. I can’t…I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know what to do.”
“Take a breath and try to calm down. Talk to me.”
“There was an accident.” Ruth’s voice was breaking. “Professor Fournier is dead, so is Kevin, and Lindsey’s in the hospital.”
“Oh my god, what,” Darcy exclaimed, jaw dropping. “What the hell happened?”
“I don’t know,” Ruth wailed. “I wasn’t there. They were off on their own at the burial site. The cops said that the big runestone just fell over on them, but…Darcy, you saw that thing, same as I did. How does that even make sense? That stone was in the ground pretty deep.”
“What are you trying to say?” Darcy’s heart was pounding in her chest. “You think something’s out there? That somebody…did this to them?”
Somebody: like a sorcerer that was potent enough to beat up an Asgardian and give them amnesia while they were at it.
“I have no idea. Ugh, I’m not even sure what I’m saying right now. The whole thing is a mess. The dig’s been shut down but we’re not allowed to go anywhere, and it’s just the sheriff and his deputy and five cadets. Two of whom are missing!”
There was a pause before Ruth added, “Darcy, I’m scared.”
“I don’t blame you,” Darcy had to say, honestly. “Just sit tight. I’m coming back, and I’m bringing some friends to help.”
“What? But what can they do?”
Darcy craned her head to look into the next room, where she had a clear view of Thor eating his way through an entire box of Chex Mix.
“Trust me. I’ve got some pretty potent friends.”
CONTINUE TO PART EIGHT
Title: Kill all the pretty lies (Part 7: Broken)
Characters/Pairings: Darcy, Loki, Thor, Jane, Erik, original characters including those based on Norse mythology, mention of Odin, Frigga, Sif, Warriors Three; Thor/Jane
Rating: PG-13 for adult situations, implied violence, mild language, angst and darkness
Length: 8,270 words
Summary: Darcy only wanted to get away for awhile. Loki only wanted to indulge his curiosity. But fate has set their paths to crossing, with each other and with something more; something that will prove to be very, very dangerous to the both of them.
Notes: For full notes and more information, see part one. Illustration by talented artist and close personal friend machi_neko whose other work can be seen on her deviantART page and personal site.
And remember, creative folk thrive on feedback - so if you like the story or the artwork, please please leave a comment and let us know! Thanks!
Part 7: Broken
Darcy was staring at Thor. Jane was staring at Thor. Erik was staring at Thor.
Thor, however, was staring at Lethia.
But instead of something similar to the three wide-eyed looks of utter bafflement he was unknowingly on the receiving end of, Thor was doing his staring in a completely different way.
He was shocked…but that shock was slowly giving way to unanticipated joy.
“Brother,” Thor repeated. He gave a faint laugh that sounded oddly broken. “I…I can’t believe it! When you fell from the Bifrost, I thought it for certain that you had died!”
He took a step forward, and then another more quickly as awoke from his overcome state. Reaching toward Lethia with those mighty forearms of his, clearly intending to embrace her.
“Why, this is wonderful-”
Lethia froze, at first, and then very swiftly wrenched herself back from his reach.
Thor stopped, his face falling. “What is the matter?” The big lump that was his adam’s apple visibly worked as his voice softened. “Are you still angry with me?”
“Who are you?” Lethia demanded, staring up at him in alarm and intimidation - a pretty understandable reaction to some giant stranger trying to hug you and seeming to think you had the completely wrong genitalia, Darcy figured.
Thor blinked, catching on. “Then it is true, after all, that you have lost your memories?” he questioned. “It is not some trick?”
“Of course it’s true,” Jane exclaimed, getting up from her chair at the kitchen table. “What an awful thing to say!” She walked towards Thor, gawking at him. “Why would somebody lie about something like that?”
Thor gave a strained chuckle, trying to placate her. “If you but knew my brother…”
Okay. Darcy had had about enough of the wacky bullshit, and she couldn’t go being quiet any longer.
“Thor,” she said, in what she suspected was going to end up being her ‘talking sense to the crazy Viking alien’ tone, “Lethia can’t possibly be your brother. Because in case you’ve somehow failed to notice, she’s a woman.”
Thor opted to make the situation even more bizarre by giving a dismissive sound. Like, ‘Oh, you mortals and your quaint notions of things like proper gender’.
“My brother Loki is a master of magic,” he explained. “He has changed his shape many times before. Including to that of a more feminine guise.” He looked sideways at Lethia again, offering her a cordial smile. “Hence why I recognize it now. I have seen this one before.”
Darcy couldn’t help herself from muttering, wooden, “You’ve gotta be freaking kidding me.”
Jane frowned at Thor in puzzlement. “But, you said you thought your brother was dead. Why? What happened to him?”
“Did you say Loki?” Erik’s face had gone an entire shade paler than usual.
“There was…an incident,” Thor said, evasively. “But it doesn’t matter now. Everything can be made right again.”
Jane shook her head, irritated. “But-”
“I still can’t believe-” Darcy started.
Erik opened his mouth as well, but he never got out more than a syllable.
“No. You’re wrong.”
At the sound of Lethia’s voice, curt and a bit louder than usual, everyone turned to look at her in surprise.
She was gazing at Thor intently, face screwed into an affronted mask, shoulders rigid and hands worked into fists.
“I don’t know you,” she snapped at him. “I am not who you think I am.” She repeated, “You’re wrong.”
And then without another word she spun around and hurried from the room.
Thor started to go after her, distressed, but Jane quickly put herself in his way stopping him.
“Thor, wait. It’s pretty obvious she doesn’t want to talk to you, at least not right now.” Gingerly she reached out to place a hand on his arm. Her voice was patient but insistent as she continued, “But in the meantime, there are still a few things that need to be explained.”
“What needs explaining?” Thor demanded. There was an almost desperate undercurrent to his tone. “Loki is my younger brother. He was lost to us all this time past, at the destruction of the Bifrost. Now he is found again. Whether or not he remembers who and what he is at present, does not change that!”
“Well I still have some questions,” Jane stated.
Thor made that one expression of his that always reminded Darcy of a puppy that was being scolded and had no idea what it’d done wrong.
Unfortunately for Thor, while Jane had a weakness for just about all of his faces, the puppy-dog one she was strangely immune to.
With very little effort she was able to steer Thor back into one of the empty kitchen chairs, and got him to sit down.
“All right,” she began. “For starters, if I’m remembering this right, wasn’t your brother the one that sent that huge suit of armor thing that tried to kill everyone?”
“The one that shot fire from its face hole?” Darcy put in.
“The one that almost killed you?” Jane stressed, apparently needing to have the last word.
Thor looked uncomfortable. “Yes,” he admitted. “But that was-”
“Was what? A misunderstanding? Light-hearted family fun?” Jane scowled at him. “Please, tell me, Thor, because I’m really not getting it. Why would your own brother be trying to murder you?”
Thor shot to his feet, muscles taut and teeth clenched with indignation. The energy behind his sudden motion caused his plastic chair to fall over and skitter a bit along the floor.
Erik grabbed at Darcy’s wrist but he didn’t need to - she was already reflexively moving back, along with him.
Only Jane remained exactly where she was, arms folded, unblinking.
At the reserve in her expression, something in Thor’s crumbled.
“It is…complicated,” he told her, pleadingly. “And I am sorry I cannot tell you more than that. Truly I am.” He swallowed. “My brother…did an awful thing. But I am loathe to try and explain it to you, because I…I am not gifted in words. They have never been my strength.”
Thor hung his head, looking more defeated than Darcy thought she’d ever seen him. “And there is no good way for me to truthfully relate my brother’s actions without coloring him as something he is not.” He sighed. “The only person who has any right to explain, I think, is Loki himself. Because he alone knows his motivations for how he acted. I certainly do not, though I have tried time and time again to understand, since it happened.”
Jane’s face softened, distressed. “Thor…”
When she placed a hand on his cheek he reached to grasp it in his, meeting her eyes.
“I knew Loki all of my life,” he said. “We grew up together. But in the wake of what happened I am starting to think…maybe I never truly understood him.”
It sounded like a painful thing for him to admit.
There was a poignant silence that stretched on for long enough it started to get awkward. Jane cleared her throat.
“So,” she managed, trying to compose herself again, “your relationship with your brother is…complex. Good to know. But what happened to him?”
“When the Bifrost was destroyed, there was a void created,” Thor said. “I believe it resembled something you once described to me as a ‘dark hole’.”
“Black hole,” Jane corrected automatically. And then she looked horrified. “He fell into a black hole?”
“Yes.” Thor hesitated long enough that there was clearly more to that part, but no one really wanted to press him just then. “I’ve no idea how he survived, or ended up on your world. Or what could’ve happened to him since then.”
The entire time they’d been speaking, Erik was massaging the bridge of his nose and his forehead with one hand. “I’m sorry,” he interjected at last. “Did you say that your brother’s name was Loki?”
“Let me guess.” Darcy looked at him, weary. “You know that one from the myths, too?”
“From the stories of my childhood, yes.” Erik gave Thor a very wan grin. “Your brother has quite the reputation.”
“Loki has always been a player of mischief, a spinner of falsehoods, all in the name of his amusement,” Thor stated. “He never meant any harm by it.”
“Among the Norsemen he was known as the god of deceit and lies,” Erik stressed, far from convinced. “About half of the stories’ problems have him as the cause of it. If I recall correctly, he was even said to play a part in bringing about the destruction of the world.”
“Your ‘stories’ are just that,” Thor thundered, offended, and Darcy finally realized where she recognized this type of bluster from - the big brother standing up for his younger sibling. “How dare you imply that some tall tale spoken by mere mortals, by old men thousands of years ago, could capture the truth of what we are!”
“Thor, calm down.” Jane put herself between the two of them. “Erik’s just trying to figure this out. The same as the rest of us.”
Erik had his hands raised defensively, eyes nervous, but he nodded in agreement. “I mean you…and your family, no offense.” Thor backed off at that though he was still visibly on-edge. “You have to understand, it’s a little difficult to transition from treating beings you’ve always thought of as half-forgotten lore to real, living people.”
Thor nodded, but it looked like he barely listened to what Erik said. He’d started pacing restlessly across one end of the room by the sink.
“I only wish I knew what has happened to Loki,” he said aloud. “Why he is hiding in that form, and why he cannot remember me or anything else.”
“Are we sure he isn’t lying?” Jane asked the question as delicately as she could. “I mean, both you and Erik did mention he kind of has a thing for doing that.”
“You’re the one who thought he wasn’t faking,” Thor pointed out. Jane sighed, eyes briefly going heavenward.
“Well, yeah, but that was before I knew…everything,” she explained. “Besides, if what you say is true, then he’s an Asgardian right? I’ve seen the kind of damage you and your other friends could take. What could he have gone through that could possibly cause him to lose his memories?”
“Falling through a wormhole to another dimension, and god only knows where else, for a start,” Erik offered. “I don’t know the limits of your people, Thor, but I’m willing to bet even for one of you, that’d be pretty rough.”
“Perhaps,” Thor responded, forehead wrinkled in thought.
Darcy was pretty sure the others had forgotten she was there, judging from the surprised expressions on all three of them when she spoke. “Does your brother have a birthmark? Or like, a tattoo? On the back of his neck?”
“A…no.” Thor gave her a perplexed look. “He has no mark of any sort there that I have ever seen. Why do you ask?”
“Well,” Darcy pulled out her iPhone, bringing up the picture she had taken that very first day, “because Lethia does.” She handed her phone to Thor. “See?”
Thor squinted at the device’s screen at first, as if he wasn’t sure how to look at it. But as it came together for him he slowly sat down, leaning his body against the countertop behind him. He looked at the picture of the round reddish mark with deep scrutiny.
“One of the people they had working at the dig, her specialty is linguistics,” Darcy said, mainly to fill up the silence. “When I showed that to her she said it seemed to resemble a Nordic rune, but it wasn’t any actual symbol she’d ever seen before.”
“It is a rune. But not one belonging to any mortal nation,” Thor replied, slowly. “I recognize this pattern now - it’s a type of magic, practiced on Asgard by those they call rune mages.”
Jane ducked over to stare at the image herself, and Erik attempted to crane his head around her for a look as well.
“Are you telling us that that’s some sort of magic spell?” Jane asked Thor, aghast.
“Yes. I read very few runes myself, but this one I do know. It’s the sign once used for one of my father’s messenger ravens.”
“Odin’s ravens,” Erik said, evidently recognizing that story as well. “Their names were Huginn and Munnin. Thought, and-”
“Memory,” Thor finished. He turned the screen of Darcy’s iPhone towards them and tapped it with his thumb. “This is the rune of munnin.”
Darcy quickly took her phone back from Thor, because his expression suggested that if he held onto it much longer he was going to crush it without thinking.
“Someone,” Thor intoned, grimly, “has used sorcery to block my brother’s memory.”
*
The better part of a day had passed, and Jane had come to realize she was completely off her schedule.
For the past few months, ever since the series of events that’d started her working with SHIELD, she’d as good as lived for her research. Even more so than she had before which, given the pattern of her life, was saying something. Every day was devoted to reviewing data and coming up with new ideas and progress.
And then Thor had returned. Unexpected, unplanned, but far from unwanted.
Suddenly research didn’t matter quite as much anymore. Work was far less important.
Thor was here, and this time he seemed to intend to stay. Jane found herself spontaneously making a new schedule for her life, one with room for him.
There were still plenty of ‘mortal’ things he needed to be introduced to. Earth things that she wanted to show him. And at some point of course they’d have to let SHIELD know he was around, Jane expected there would be questions to answer and forms to fill out or something; Agent Coulson would want to finally debrief him. And, it occurred to her she really needed to find herself an apartment - living in an RV wouldn’t cut it anymore, not if she was constantly going to be having a ‘guest’ around.
Jane hadn’t exactly sat down and made a list. In her head, though, there was a list.
But then, when things hadn’t even begun to get settled, Darcy had brought her new friend home with her, and everything was shaken up again.
Jane couldn’t help but wonder if this was a preview. Things had been turbulent enough during Thor’s first visit to their world, after all.
Was this what life would always be like, having someone like him around?
Jane sighed. And then, shaking her head, she poured two mugs of coffee and went to find Thor.
She found him sitting outside on the ground next to where they’d parked the van, his back against the side of it. Long legs half stretched out before him, he was gazing upward at the building. Jane followed his eyes and found herself looking at Darcy’s room: the curtain was drawn but she could see two figures moving behind it.
Presumably, Darcy and Lethia…or was it Loki? What should she even call her? Or, was she supposed to think of ‘her’ as a ‘him’?
Jane gave another jerk of her head to clear it. “Here.” She crouched to hand Thor one of the mugs, and he took it without comment. “It’s hot, so, when you take a sip be careful not to burn your tongue-”
Thor took a deep drink from the coffee and didn’t seem the least bit bothered.
“…Of course,” Jane finished, lamely. She’d forgotten now that he had his full powers back, Thor’s limitations were even less than they’d been before.
She held her cup in both hands, absorbing the warmth, and let the air lapse into silence.
After a minute, Thor said, quietly, “He still won’t speak to me. In fact, he’s hiding from me. I suppose it’s strange I should even be surprised - our parting was not on the best of terms.”
Jane carefully slid down against the van, lowering herself until she was sitting beside Thor.
“You really missed him,” she observed softly, “didn’t you?”
“Yes. In the time since my return home, I have found my thoughts dwelling on him constantly.”
Thor ducked his head to look at the ground a moment, pensive, and then he met her eyes. “On him, and…on you.”
Jane smiled, and there it was - that fluttering in her stomach, that happened whenever her eyes and Thor’s locked. The one that made her suddenly a twelve year old schoolgirl again, giggling and daydreaming of a boy whose locker was four down from hers, the one she’d never spoken to yet somehow her whole world revolved around. She bit her lip, and could feel herself flush.
Thor was still looking at her, and now he was smiling as well. Gentle. His eyes seemed a completely different shade of intoxicating blue.
“Jane,” he said, and nothing else. As if that one word, her name, was more than enough.
For some reason Jane could feel her eyes misting. Her face crinkled up as she tried to fight the stupid, pointless, completely misplaced tears.
“I thought about you all the time too,” she told him, and it was true. She’d thought about him as she worked, as she went about her day, even as she slept. Her dreams were all about the shape of his body in both her ex’s clothes and the armor she’d glimpsed him in, the feel of his hand around hers, little flashes of blond hair, golden skin and storm cloud colored eyes.
She’d thought about him so much in fact, that she’d tried to convince herself she was being ridiculous. They had known each other a grand total of three days. That wasn’t long enough to have fallen in love.
But it was long enough, to get a feel for things. To know that there was something there.
“I was so afraid,” Thor confessed, all in a rush, “that you would’ve chosen to forget about me. That you’d mistakenly think when I failed to return it was because I didn’t wish to, not because I could not.”
“I was scared of that, at first.” Jane forced a weak laugh; “It crossed my mind more than a few times. But, you’d promised me, that you were going to come back. And I…believed you. The way you said it, it sounded like I could trust you at your word. And so when you didn’t show up again,” Jane gave a twitchy shrug, “I guess I just realized something must’ve happened.”
“I am so glad that you didn’t give up searching,” Thor told her. “That you didn’t stop trying.” His face broke out in a wide grin and Jane found herself giggling as she automatically mirrored him. “It’s because of you now that we’re together again.”
“Eventually I’ll perfect my method,” Jane said, hurried. “It might take some more time, but we’ll be able to create an Einstein-Rosen bridge whenever we want to, not just during pre-existing climate events, and it’ll be much more stable. You won’t have to stay stranded on Earth. You’ll be able to come and go as you please.”
But even as she was speaking Thor already started fiercely shaking his head.
“It doesn’t matter. Jane, listen to me.” Reaching out he cupped her chin in his fingertips. “None of that matters right now. As long as I am with you. That’s the decision I made, when I came through the portal, and I intend to stand by it.”
“…Oh,” Jane breathed, a giddy laugh falling from her lips before she could stop herself.
Hadn’t she told herself she was too old for romantic daydreams, the day she’d set aside her dolls in favor of her first science kit? Hadn’t that been what she thought it meant to be an adult?
So why did Thor’s sweeping gestures of chivalry always turn her to mush?
Oh well, Jane thought to herself, as Thor pulled her in for a kiss. She was just going to have to get used to it.
After all, practice made perfect.
*
Darcy hadn’t really spoken much to Lethia all day, outside of practical things like “Do you want lunch?”, “Have you seen my iPod?”, or “That top looks really good on you.”
The way she figured it, she was still in a state of shock and confusion over the whole thing.
By evening however she decided she’d avoided the issue long enough.
Of course it only figured at that time, she couldn’t find Lethia anywhere.
There was no sign of her in the kitchen, the bathroom, or Darcy’s own room, and she wasn’t taking a nap on the couch. Erik was in the lab and hadn’t seen her, Thor and Jane had gone ‘for a walk’ (she was so sure), and it seemed unlikely she’d decided to hide herself inside the van.
Darcy was on the point of giving up when she remembered the roof.
Stealthily climbing up there, which for her meant creeping along with an exaggerated slowness of motion like she was in a cartoon, she found Lethia standing close by the edge.
Her hair drifted a bit in the wind behind her as she hugged herself lightly, staring up at the rapidly darkening night sky.
Geeze, even when she brooded she looked picturesque. Maybe she really was an Asgardian pseudo-god.
“Taking in the view, huh,” Darcy remarked, coming over to join her.
Lethia came out of her daze just enough to spare her a glance, then nodded absently before returning to her thoughts. Darcy sighed.
“Look. I think we need to talk.”
“I am not going to have anything to do with that man.” Lethia pressed her mouth into a line, her lips going white. “You cannot make me.”
Darcy examined her face for a moment before asking, slowly, “Do you really not remember anything?”
That got Lethia’s attention. She twisted her body completely to face Darcy, eyes wide and face wrought with angry hurt at the implied accusation.
“Of course I don’t! I have no reason to lie about that, do I?” she demanded. “Why would you say that to me? I thought you were my friend.”
“Calm down,” Darcy ordered her, evenly. “You’re right, I am your friend. Which is why I can’t ignore what’s going on here. There’s something you’re not telling me, and as your friend I can’t just let that go.”
Lethia blinked a few times, rapidly, and started guiltily to turn her head. Darcy moved a few steps closer so that Lethia couldn’t ignore her; short of turning her back completely or shutting her eyes, there was no way to remove Darcy from her line of sight.
“Ever since I met you, you’ve wanted nothing more than to figure out who you are, where you came from,” Darcy reminded her. “You’ve been totally desperate for information. Now, someone comes along who claims to know everything about you, and you won’t even talk to him? All of a sudden you know just enough to be sure that Thor’s wrong and anything he has to say is a waste of time? Do you really expect me to buy that?”
“Darcy…” Lethia all but whimpered. Darcy reached out to put a hand on her arm, gentle but firm.
“Tell me what’s going on,” she asked her. “Please.”
Lethia closed her eyes, exhaling. When she opened them again she lifted her head towards the stars, even though she didn’t appear to really see them, before meeting Darcy’s gaze.
“I don’t remember anything more than I did three days ago. Really.” She paused. “It’s just that, ever since I set eyes on him-”
“You mean Thor?”
“Yes. Thor.” Lethia pronounced his name carefully, tasting it on her tongue. “Now whenever I try looking toward my past…I find myself not wanting to dwell on it any more.”
She pulled away from Darcy and went back to looking outward off the roof, wrapping her arms around herself more tightly. Darcy couldn’t help noticing her nails were still perfect. How unfair. It just figured; Darcy’s polish was already halfway chipped off.
“When I look back, I feel such…guilt, and shame,” Lethia murmured. “I think I’ve changed my mind. I don’t want to remember who I am after all. Maybe I really am better off this way.”
“Are you sure?” Darcy questioned, trying to understand but having an admittedly hard time of it. “You think it’s best, you not knowing any of your own life? Having to start from a total blank slate?”
“The way things are now…I admit, I feel lost, but I have faith that I can be happy,” Lethia told her frantically. “When I think about my other life, what sense I get from that…” She swallowed, and shook her head. “I’m not sure if the same is true.”
“You really think that it could be that bad?” Darcy was skeptical.
Lethia’s head shook some more before she could get out the words. “Darcy, what if I-” But then she stopped.
“What?”
“Nothing,” Lethia said. Her voice was soft but closed off. “Never mind.”
Darcy looked at her own shoes for about thirty seconds while she tried to think of what to say next. What she could possibly say in response to any of it.
Finally she went, “You’re really not the least bit curious, if whether or not what Thor had to say down there is true? You’re not maybe…weirded out by any of it?”
Lethia gave her a confused frown. “What do you mean?”
“Well, for starters,” Darcy pointed out, “if it’s the truth, then that means you’re really a guy.”
Lethia laughed shortly, a mixture of amused and endeared. “Oh, Darcy. Only you would fixate on that first, out of everything else.”
“So it…seriously doesn’t bother you,” Darcy insisted.
Lethia tilted her head, considering it, and then shrugged carelessly. “No. It doesn’t.”
“Huh. Interesting.” Darcy wondered if it was an Asgardian thing. Or maybe, what with the way Thor went on about his brother being a shape-shifter, it was more inherent than that: maybe, deep down, some part of Lethia already knew she was supposed to be male and had decided the point was moot.
It was still utterly bizarre to think about, far as Darcy was concerned.
The two of them stood there for a moment, side by side, in companionable silence. Darcy watched the stars looking for any comets or satellites. Half hoping she didn’t see any, because that was the sort of thing Jane always griped at her about needing to write down. She was close enough to Lethia that their shoulders were practically touching.
Lethia looked at her from the side. “What’s going to happen to me now?” The question was almost timid. Darcy blinked.
“The same thing that was going to happen before, I guess,” she replied. “We talk to SHIELD, maybe. See if there isn’t anything they can do. But I guess if you’re really not into finding out where you’re from anymore, now it’s more about like, getting you settled.”
“Settled?” Lethia repeated.
“Getting you legal documentation and stuff so you can find a job, a place to live, sign up for email and Facebook.” Darcy smiled at her, shrugging. “That sort of thing.”
“Ah yes, this Facebook device of yours,” Lethia said slowly, recalling. “The source of near-infinite knowledge about anyone else.”
“Well not if they’re using their security features correctly. But uh, yeah, that’s pretty close.”
“You’ll have to teach me how it works.”
“Sure. Of course.” Darcy placed an arm around her shoulder, and Lethia gave in automatically, letting her pull her body closer. “I’ll show you the ropes.”
*
The afternoon’s sun was high when Brynhild left the village, claiming that she was going out to hunt.
At the edge of the tree line was a concealed indent behind a rock that served her well in the past as a hiding place. There she left her weapons and pack for safekeeping, to be retrieved later.
It was considered respectful, to approach the home of the shaman unarmed.
Brynhild was somewhat surprised to find Selinde alone, outside, for she’d not seen Ve around since much earlier that same morning.
“Hail Brynhild, leader among many, slayer of all who oppose her,” Selinde greeted her loftily. She did not rise from whatever task she was about; tossing ashes upon the remains of a fire’s embers, her arms hidden in all but brief glimpses by the thick pelt of her cloak.
“Hail Selinde of the People, Selene of the Aesir, shaman of the generation of my mother and her mother before her, and,” Brynhild grinned, “as of this day, a bride soon-to-be. Though may she not tarry as one for long, but pass on into becoming wife.”
“Have you come all this way then, to deliver me congratulations?” Selinde asked her. There was something shrewd about her tone. “I am receiving today so many visitors.”
“I can only imagine. But where is your betrothed? I confess I did expect him to be also here to greet me.”
“Oh, he rides over the hills, at present.” Selinde smiled. “He is with his brother Vili.”
“Attending to some rite of preparation, then,” Brynhild gathered. Glancing about her she could see that Selinde must’ve already been planning to add to or remake her hut as Ve was joined to her household. Most of the usual adornments had been removed from the outer walls and through the door Brynhild could see some sacks packed. “Or who knows, perhaps merely engaging in some sentimental fest, before their friendship is severed by marriage.”
“Why, they have all the time in the world together, Brynhild,” Selinde said sweetly. “I would not dream of parting them.”
“You are in high spirit today,” Brynhild observed. Tilting her head she looked at Selinde more closely. “There is very clearly something different about you.”
Indeed the shaman seemed to possess a greater energy than ever been before. She all but visibly glowed with this strange new vitality.
Selinde went entirely still. Lifting her head she met Brynhild’s eyes carefully.
“Is there?”
Brynhild smiled, nodding. “It must be the anticipation,” she guessed, teasing her. “The blush of the waiting bride.”
Selinde chuckled, her mouth twisting with amusement. “Ah yes, of course. What else could it be?”
Bending down she scooped one last handful of ashes onto the dead fire. “But I will waste no more words with you, warrior Brynhild. I know your mind and your nature, and you did not come all this way during your good hunting time to bless me only.”
Brynhild bowed her head in concession. “I would speak on a matter with you. One most secret and dear to my heart,” she confessed in a rush. “Your impending marriage, though time of great happiness for us all, has made it impossible to bear my own desires in silence any longer.”
“Ah,” Selinde noted, “you speak of love. Your infatuation with Sigurd Reginsward.”
Brynhild felt her cheeks color. “Am I so obvious?”
“Depends on who you ask.” Selinde considered it. “Perhaps not to Sigurd.”
“That is my very problem,” Brynhild groused. She carried herself to a nearby rock and sat on it, melancholic. “Sigurd admires me as a warrior I know, but what does he think of me as a woman?”
“Presuming that he has eyes and the full use of them, that you are striking to look upon, and without equal in battle,” Selinde responded, flatly.
“But…” Brynhild wrung her hands together. “It is said that among his people, women are not fighters or hunters. They are…timid, dainty things. What if that is what he prefers? What if I am not at all to his liking?” When Selinde did not speak at first, Brynhild added, “I have seen him often look with favor on my sister, Gudrun.”
Selinde’s expression was calculating, her clever mind at work as she took in all that Brynhild was saying to her.
“Maybe he does love Gudrun and not you, Brynhild,” Selinde spoke to her, with soft intensity. “Maybe she has already caught his eye. Such a shame, since you both have the same beauty. But if that’s the case, what is to be done?”
Brynhild pressed her mouth shut tightly before she risked speaking again. “Surely there must be something. Something, that with your power…?”
“A charm of some kind?” Selinde offered helpfully. “A spell, to help you win over his heart?”
“I would not have you…enslave him to me,” Brynhild told her, hesitant.
“Not at all,” Selinde was swift to assure her. Stepping closer to the warrior, she gestured. “I can brew a potion that will enhance your natural attraction, the desire you arouse, in Sigurd’s eyes. It won’t overwhelm his senses but rather help him to realize what he should already feel. For surely, yours was a union destined to be.”
“You will do this for me?” Brynhild demanded, excited. She shot to her feet. “You’ll intercede on my behalf?”
“I’ll need some help, from you.”
“Anything. Name it.”
“A lock of your hair, for one,” Selinde mused. “It will have to go in the potion.”
There was a small knife on her belt that Brynhild had not removed with her other weapons, for it was more suited to eating than killing. In a flash she drew it and cut the end from one of her unbound tresses. She pressed it into Selinde’s hand.
“There. Done. What else?”
Selinde’s fingers closed tightly around the flaxen bit of hair. “Oh, just that I will need to see Sigurd alone,” she added. “In order for it to work best, when I weave my magic nothing can interrupt us.”
“I can easily come up with some excuse to send him to you,” Brynhild said with great eagerness. “Oh, Selinde. Truly you are my friend, for this!”
“Why not at all, Brynhild. Think nothing of it.” Selinde lowered her eyes and bowed, a thin smile splitting the length of her face. “It would only be too wonderful, if all who lived could be as happy as I am on this day.”
*
Thor woke early the next day, quick to find everyone else was still abed but unable to fall back to sleep. He made his way to the kitchen in search of sustenance.
As soon as he stepped into the room however he realized he was not alone. Loki stood with his back to him, pulling something from the cupboard.
Thor froze, uncertain what to do or say. It turned out he didn’t need to do anything: Loki sensed he was no longer by himself almost instantly. Turning he saw Thor and he flinched back, caging himself by the countertops, eyes wide and frightened as he looked around for an escape.
Thor let a slow, reassuring smile form across his face, sickened by the fact he had to treat his own brother like some wild animal ready to bolt.
“Good morning,” Thor greeted in an even cordial tone. He made a gesture to indicate the foil-wrapped poptart still in Loki’s hand. “You know, they’re even better if you warm them up first,” he said helpfully - a discovery he’d made far into his first visit to Midgard, which had both surprised and delighted him.
Loki’s responding tone was far from cordial, or reassured. “Stay away from me,” he snapped.
This wasn’t going to work. Thor dropped the pretense and let his disappointment show.
“Why do you hide from me?” he demanded, unhappily. “I have done nothing to harm you that you know of.”
“That I know of,” Loki repeated, with meaningful emphasis. “Interesting choice of words.”
Careful, Thor told himself. Despite not remembering who he was, Loki was still clearly very much Loki. Perhaps worst of all, a Loki without the context to trust him. If Thor wanted to persuade him of anything he’d have to speak with care.
“I am not the cause for your loss of memory,” Thor insisted. “I want only to help you.”
“I don’t need your ‘help’. I don’t want it,” Loki said, in almost the exact same thin, vicious tone he’d used during their fight at the Bifrost. Thor’s heart ached at the recollection: ‘I’m not your brother. I never was.’
It wasn’t true. Thor would never let it be.
“You do not know what you’re saying,” he said hoarsely, voice rough as he forced it to action past the clenching of his throat. Loki glanced past him, contemplating whether or not he could run by Thor and get out. Thor felt compelled to reach out beseechingly. “Brother, please!”
“Why do you keep calling me ‘brother’?” Loki cried, exasperated. He gesticulated with both hands wildly near his head. “Do you not have eyes? Are you insane?”
Automatically Thor followed Loki’s indications, taking in the female body within which he currently resided. Truly it was a masterful illusion. If he hadn’t already known it was possible, if he hadn’t seen it before, Thor might have not realized. But there was still something of Loki about the proportions if not the general shape, and there was familiarity lurking in the angles of her face, somewhere in the nose and the cheeks and the chin. The hair, though longer, was still Loki’s, and the eyes were undoubtedly his.
He could distantly remember the first time Loki had ever changed into a woman. They’d been well into their period as youths, their paths already diverging as Thor excelled ever more as a warrior while Loki had all but given up on the martial arts in favor of books and tomes of sorcery.
It had been, it’d seemed, an odd time for it: the gender line, the difference between boys and girls was becoming ever clearer, more meaningful by the day. The desire to know what one was, to feel secure it in was pressing; to begin experimenting with making changes to one’s self, even temporary ones brought about by magic, seemed problematic at best. Looking back Thor honestly doubted he himself would’ve had the courage.
But not only had Loki done it, he’d gone about it in as showy a manner as possible. A late entrant to dinner, the entire hall had gone silent at the distantly recognizable figure that had strode in and seated herself at the second prince’s spot at the table, calmly asking Thor to pour her a glass of mead.
Frigga had, unsurprisingly, stopped blinking the fastest of any of them. “Thor, your brother has made you a request,” she chided him, mildly.
And considering some of the other things Loki had already done by then with his magic, it was probably one of the least outlandish and definitely the least literally explosive.
But the room had filled with a muted cacophony of mutters, sniggers, and some more lewd remarks. The outrage was one thing, but the slander was another: most of the worst catcalls halted the instant the All-Father ‘accidentally’ slammed his goblet down too hard. But even he could not silent every mouth in the hall. It would’ve been impossible.
“It has to be a glamour,” Fandral muttered. He was giving Loki such close scrutiny that would’ve made Thor incensed were it actually his sister. “You can’t have truly…Sif, pinch him. See if it’s real.”
“Do it yourself,” she returned, annoyed.
Loki leaned back in a way that presented certain parts of ‘her’ anatomy that almost seemed accidental. Almost. “By all means, good sir Fandral,” he said to him, smooth. “Would you like to examine me more fully?”
Fandral stammered and then, as Hogun and Volstagg fell to mocking him instead, turned beet red and actually tried to sink under the table.
Loki had sat through it all with a composed expression, acting as though he heard not a word of any of it.
Afterward on the way back to their rooms, Thor had accosted him, and almost sighed in relief as Loki released the spell the instant Thor grabbed his arm, reverting to his male self.
“I was almost afraid you’d gotten yourself stuck that way,” Thor said, jokingly.
“You have such little faith in my ability?” Loki asked in response, mild. He glanced at the hand on his forearm. “Thor, you’re squeezing. Let go.”
“Sorry.” Thor shook himself off, sheepish. “I just don’t understand. Why do it? Why would you wish to learn such a thing?”
“Why not?” Loki returned. He shrugged beneath his cloak. “I can think of a few ways where it might come in useful.” His eyes were bright as they met Thor’s carefully. “Besides. Maybe I only wanted to prove to myself that I could.”
And Thor could see it now, with the clarity of hindsight. For all Loki’s careless nonchalance that had been as good as an invitation, an opening to praise him for his cleverness and skill. It would only have been fair: a small compliment on his progress, like the ones he paid to Thor constantly whenever he did well at his own lessons, even though Loki cared about as much for Thor’s feats of brute strength as Thor did for sorcery. A reassurance after the names he’d been called at dinner, to make it all worthwhile.
But Thor hadn’t said anything of the kind. Instead he’d laughed, patting Loki on the shoulder and telling him again that he didn’t understand him, but he was free to do whatever he liked.
In his memory, it was hard to see Loki’s responding smile as anything but forced.
In the present, Thor managed to keep his voice relatively calm. “I have already explained the reason for that.”
“Oh yes, of course. How could I have forgotten?” Loki’s eyes rolled upward. “Not only am I from some different world entirely, but I’m also a powerful sorcerer, able to take on other shapes at a whim. Not at all an outlandish tale in the slightest.”
He gave Thor a flabbergasted look of incredulity. “I mean, are you entirely serious; you actually believe that? Do you have any idea how crazed that sounds?”
Thor felt the urge to smile, despite how saddened he felt. He recognized this trick: it wasn’t that Loki had any doubts himself. He was only pretending, the better to push the emotion off onto Thor. He wanted Thor to doubt it could actually be true, and therefore leave him in peace.
“Why do you want nothing to do with me?” Thor said, honestly, “I don’t understand.”
Loki stopped. His free hand curled into a fist, digging into his chest near his heart. The action was so emotive it had to be unconscious.
“I don’t know what happened, or how it has anything to do with you,” he whispered, “but every time I look at you I feel like a darkness is about to swallow me whole. There is so much despair - if that’s what I am to gain by an association with you, then I don’t want it.”
Thor was stilled to his very core. “That’s all that you can see, when you try to remember? That’s all you that you feel: despair?”
What about the entire life they’d shared together, when they were children? All the adventures they’d had as young men? Had all that happiness been erased in Loki’s heart entirely in those final moments, eaten up by the pain and rage Thor had been too blind, too stupid to see building?
“What, isn’t that enough?” Loki said, with strained casualness. He scoffed. “Can you blame me for choosing not to remember, if the past is so terrible? Can you fault me for not wanting to go back?”
An awful thought occurred to Thor: could Loki have cast the rune magic on himself, to erase his own memories?
Surely the last time he’d seen him, his brother had been in an unhinged state. He had already proved himself capable of things Thor would’ve previously never thought.
But no, he reassured himself: Loki prized his control, his self-reliance too much. He would never have willingly put himself in such a vulnerable condition.
The knowledge was very little comfort, though, after having mourned and longed for his brother so long, to have him right in front of him and yet still denied him.
“It isn’t fair,” Thor said, knowing he was reverting to childlike selfishness but unable to stop himself. “You have no idea how much this hurts me. I want my brother back.”
“And what would happen to me, then, when he returns?” Loki asked coolly.
Thor stomped a foot, exasperated. “You are already him!” he cried.
Loki only blinked at the outburst instead of fleeing or shying back. “Maybe that’s the part that worries me,” he admitted.
Thor’s anger vanished instantly in his confusion. “What do you mean?”
Loki opened his mouth and the quickly shut it again, wordless. The silence stretched on for what seemed a tense eternity before finally he spoke.
“What did he do, anyway?” he asked quietly. “Your brother?”
Thor’s heart leapt to his throat. “I don’t understand the question,” he lied.
Loki shook his head ruefully, clearly knowing that wasn’t the case. He hesitated yet again before meeting Thor’s eyes with unblinking intensity.
“He was a terrible person,” he said slowly, his voice filled with fear, “wasn’t he?”
Thor was struck dumb at first, but at last he pried his mouth open. He tried to ignore the phantom pain he felt gripping his chest, the dread that churned in his stomach.
“No,” he insisted. “No…it is true, he made a mistake. He did terrible things.” Thor’s voice had become a plea. “But my brother was not a bad man. There was no true evil in his soul.”
Loki’s face had hardened.
“I don’t believe you,” he said. Without another word he left the room, leaving Thor staring after him, devastated.
Thor sank heavily into one of the plastic chairs, face dropping into his hands.
So that was the truth of who Loki was, without his thoughts twisted around inside his head and the knowledge of how to deceive himself.
He didn’t only hate Thor. He despised himself, as well.
*
The situation was a tense one, to say the least. Darcy had gotten pretty sick of that whole ‘walking on eggshells’ feeling, but what could they do about it?
Lethia resolutely still didn’t want anything to do with Thor. Thor still maintained Lethia was really his brother, but now he was avoiding her as well.
There was a lot of ducking out of rooms constantly in their mutual hurry to stay the hell away from one another. At times it almost seemed like they were chasing one another in a giant circle through the house. Darcy kind of wanted to start playing the Benny Hill theme - or start screaming at them to knock it off and start acting like grownups.
Jane just wanted to be alone with Thor a lot, talking science at him or asking questions about Asgard and the Bifrost or cuddling up with him on the couch.
Erik called Agent Coulson to apprise him of the situation, had left his Norse mythology book sitting on one of the tables in the lab open to ‘L’, and announced he was going to the bar.
He hadn’t come back since.
Darcy, out of lack of anything better to do, was stuck marking star chart data and muttering to herself without even her iPod to keep her company, since she was pretty sure Lethia had borrowed it.
When her cell phone rang, she practically dove on it with relief.
“Hello?”
“Darcy? It’s me.”
Ruth’s voice was at first somewhat unrecognizable, not just because of the static of occasional interference but also the trembling note to her tone. It sounded like she’d been crying.
“Ruth? What…what’s wrong?’ Darcy sat up straighter. “What’s happening?”
She was the opposite of reassured when Ruth bit back a sob. “Oh god, Darcy. It’s awful. I can’t…I don’t know what’s going on. I don’t know what to do.”
“Take a breath and try to calm down. Talk to me.”
“There was an accident.” Ruth’s voice was breaking. “Professor Fournier is dead, so is Kevin, and Lindsey’s in the hospital.”
“Oh my god, what,” Darcy exclaimed, jaw dropping. “What the hell happened?”
“I don’t know,” Ruth wailed. “I wasn’t there. They were off on their own at the burial site. The cops said that the big runestone just fell over on them, but…Darcy, you saw that thing, same as I did. How does that even make sense? That stone was in the ground pretty deep.”
“What are you trying to say?” Darcy’s heart was pounding in her chest. “You think something’s out there? That somebody…did this to them?”
Somebody: like a sorcerer that was potent enough to beat up an Asgardian and give them amnesia while they were at it.
“I have no idea. Ugh, I’m not even sure what I’m saying right now. The whole thing is a mess. The dig’s been shut down but we’re not allowed to go anywhere, and it’s just the sheriff and his deputy and five cadets. Two of whom are missing!”
There was a pause before Ruth added, “Darcy, I’m scared.”
“I don’t blame you,” Darcy had to say, honestly. “Just sit tight. I’m coming back, and I’m bringing some friends to help.”
“What? But what can they do?”
Darcy craned her head to look into the next room, where she had a clear view of Thor eating his way through an entire box of Chex Mix.
“Trust me. I’ve got some pretty potent friends.”
CONTINUE TO PART EIGHT