#loki x jane foster

[plainlo-inthemorning]

Shine a Light

Warnings: Angst

Rating: Mature

Words: 23 k (complete)

Summary:

All hell has broken loose at the TVA following the death of He Who Remains, and Loki is once more lost and utterly alone. But then a forgotten face from his past reappears, presenting the trickster god with a new, yet strangely familiar riddle to be solved.

Up on AO3 here

[calaroseeey]

Where Are You Christmas?

Loki x Jane Foster. 563 words. Warnings: None. Rating: All.

Summary: With Jane’s life changed by adventures, heartbreak and illness, this Christmas feels different.

· · ────── *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ────── · ·

It did not feel like Christmas. It hadn’t in a long time.

Jane sat at the empty table in her apartment, her friends and lover helping in the kitchen. Old piano music played from the living room.

She was sick, and side effects from medicines made her feel less like herself.

It did not help that there was no snow this year in New York City, and the chaos of the city made her dizzy.

The snow reminded her of adventures in distant realms, on winter worlds and grand kingdoms. The lack only reminded her of how much she was without.

“My dear, may I offer you a dance this evening?”

Well, she hadn’t lost everything. Jane turned to see Loki offering her out his hands. She took them as he led her in dance.

Magic lit up the air. She felt a shimmer on her skin, it felt like him. The music played from the old player, and they swayed out of tune. His hand was on hers, and another down around her waist. She could feel his hair prick the top of her head, and his cold aura surrounding her more pleasant than warmth.

She felt his magic when she was with him, it surrounded him like a flame that could not be put out. She thought it was some sort of scientific law, an equation, a fact that would be in textbooks in future centuries. Or it was a metaphysical explanation. Another material unable to be examined by physical instruments and observation, only felt with her heart and her hands on his.

“Did you ever meet Chopin?” she asked him.

“Chopin?” he looked down toward her. “The man who played this music?”

“Yes?”

“No, darling. I did not meet every ‘seemingly notable person’ in your peoples’ recent past. As you will not meet every person who will be remembered in a thousand years, despite living at the same time as them.”

Her legs began to feel heavy and light at the same time as cramping set in. Somehow he noticed, as he had a perk for noticing, and swept her off her feet, landing her into his arms and dragging laughter from her.

They lied down on the couch, and he soon began to gently rub her tensing muscles.

Erik and Darcy bustled in the kitchen, light banter bouncing around and dishes clinking.

They’d all had different handlings of recent events.

Darcy would use laughter and put in the extra effort for comedy when faced with the unpaved roads of life. Erik would retreat into himself, wouldn’t admit he was terrified. He loved people too deeply to be afraid with them.

Loki, somehow, managed to prove to Jane he was not only a friend, or a lover, or proof of her research, but a comfort and anchor in her own life.

She loved him for it, with a kind of yearn she’d thought was only reserved for the stars.

“Merry Christmas,” he whispered. “Tomorrow I’ll make it snow.”

She smiled at the thought, and she closed her eyes. The music played in the room, a familiar piece she remembered from her childhood. Noise from the city drowned out in the sounds of her home. The scents from the candles fragranced the air, his cold touch on her as her breath steadied. She began to doze into sleep safe beside him.

[rosalysaoirse]

If you're taking prompts, I've got a jealousy prompt for you (for Lokane): “name. i love you. only you. don’t forget that”

I wasn't accepting prompts, but then I thought, I haven't written for Lokane in over year, might as well give it a try. I actually had fun. Thank you so much for the prompt!! 💙💙

Based on a WIP. This would probably take place some time after the fic would have finished, maybe. Slight angst.

...

Laughter. The clinking of goblets and excited voices travelling around the large hall. A swirl of vivid colours decorate the centre; gleaming metal armours and shining silks, comingling in a dance of celebration. There’s music too; passionate beats and arousing notes. Everyone was enjoying themselves.

All but Loki. He too was attired the same, in his ceremonial armour at Thor’s behest. But he situated himself in a lone corner, staring into the crowd with a glower. More specifically at the dancing figures of his lover and the newly crowned king.

It’s loud, boisterous. It wasn’t as annoying earlier in the evening. Now it grates at him, bit by bit. The sounds, accompanied by the tapping of shoes on the polished floor, and Jane, smiling at Thor, laughing at something he said. He thinks his teeth might break with the force he’s clenching his jaw.

The song ends, and they part, Jane disappearing in the crowd with her small stature while Thor stands there an imposing figure. Loki glares at the back of his head.

It seems silly, being jealous of such a thing. They were just dancing. But a small part of him, that he never quite managed to subdue, reminds him that they used to be together. He thought that he was over it, but sometimes he fears his fancies and fantasies would remain just that and she’d leave him.

(You’re brooding, she’d say. He’d deflect with a quip.)

“I wondered where you were. What are you doing here?” Ah, there she is.

“I was counting how many goblets of mead Thor has drunk.” He doesn’t look at her yet, though he feels her come to hover at his left side. He folds his hands behind his back, repressing the urge to touch her.

Jane hums, clearly unbelieving, but Loki is a little angered. At her, himself… the doubts festering into a tight coil of despair. Why does he spiral into this misery?

“Loki.” That tone. Knowing. It vexes him. He can’t hide anything from her; the phantom specks of Aether still interwoven in her essence. “Would you tell me what’s bothering you?”

“Nothing. I just don’t want to deal with a drunken Thor.”

She moves to stand before him and he can’t avoid looking at her anymore. “And that’s why you’re brooding here?” She says with a little grin and he sighs. She grabs his hands, prying them apart and wraps them around her waist. “Why don’t you dance with me instead of sulking?”

“I’m not sulking.”

She tilts her head closer. “So you weren’t jealous?”

“No.”

He’s looking over her shoulder, but sees her frown in his peripheral. She cups his neck, her thumbs on his jawline, making him face her properly.

“Hey, what happened?”

His lips press into a thin line. He looks at her, ready to deny, but the worry in her eyes halts him. He steels himself, even as his ears turn hot.

“You were dancing with him.” She shakes her head imperceptibly, confused. “And talking to him. And laughing. You were together once.”

“And you think I could leave you for him?”

He stays silent, unwilling to lend actual words to his doubts.

“Damn, Loki. Look at me.” He looks. There’s a subtle flame in her eyes now. One that he could never sway from. It fuels her resolve, anchoring him. “I love you. Only you. Don’t forget that.”

And he breathes. It’s like… like he just needed to hear that. To brush away baseless worries and phantom fears.

(Sometimes celestial bodies encounter other objects. But orbits remain, gravity inevitable.)

She presses herself to him, face buried against his chest. His arms tighten around her; he finally lets himself feel her. They stand like that for a moment, hidden behind the golden pillars, ignoring the celebrations, the music, everything else.

Then she slowly pulls away, the smile returning to her face. “Now will you dance with me?” She asks, already tugging at his hands, dragging him with her. He follows, suddenly excited.

He takes her hands in his, the rhythm of the current song guiding him along. Bright eyes, hair half-up, flowing emerald green skirts and a radiant smile adorning her face – she is exactly how he’d imagined she’d be on his arm. She laughs as he spins her, her dress blooming around her figure like an exuberant flower. A matching smile appears on his face. He should’ve just done this from the start.

But no matter. He has all night with her.

[beheworthy]

"Human lives are fleeting. They are nothing. You'd be better served by what lies in front of you."

Thor: The Dark World (2013) // Thor: Love and Thunder (2022)

[karioke13]

A different girl now,

but there’s nothin’ new

I know you get

✨Deja vu✨

Thor Love and Thunder dir Taika Waiti (2022)

Loki season 2 dir Aaron Moorhead (2023)

The Marvels dir Nia de Costa (2023)

Deja vu Olivia Rodrigo

[indri-on-ao3]

After the god has left you.

[neottia-orchids]

Babes wake up, new Lokane Variant cover for Valkyrie: Jane Foster has dropped!!!

Kidding... Marvel would never. It's all me again. Whoopsie!

[lokiusmybeloveds]

pro tip: don't watch the first Thor movie when you are still heartbroken over the Loki finale because the Thor/Jane and Loki/Mobius parallels WILL make you feel like you're being physically torn apart <3

[odins-sonofmischief]

Thor (2011) | Loki 2x06

Requested by @tremendoushideoutfun

[pascaloverx]

Forbidden Romance

Summary: You are in love with Prince Thor. He will soon be King and is hosting a ball between Kingdoms so he can find his future bride. Unfortunately, the Kingdom of Asgard is not ready to accept the Chief of the Royal Guard as the new Queen.

Warnings: inappropriate language, use of violence and adult content in the future of fanfic. some characters belong to the Marvel universe and others were created by the author.

AO3 link chapter two

Chapter One

A calm morning awaits you as you don your attire of the Kingsguard. The duty calls to you. Guarding the safety of the great son of Asgard is an honor. The challenge is to leave your personal feelings aside. Damn was the moment you fell in love...

"Are you sure it won't be strange for you escorting your little boyfriend to a ball designed for him to find a future wife?" Loki quips as he strides into your room without any ceremony. You brandish your sword at the level of the rejected Prince Loki.

"It's conversations like these that make me know I should hit you every time you come to my room." You speak while holding the sword tightly. Loki walks away, smiling a little too much for those who seem afraid of you.

"I came in peace. Thor asked you to stop by his room before leaving to give instructions to the Kingsguard." Loki says, laying down under his bed and swinging his feet playfully. You roll your eyes reproaching him but I understand that it's good that he's helping you and Thor.

"You know if you tell anyone about this, I'll rip your tongue out of your head, right?" You say it knowing that he'll probably enjoy you hurting him but that he would feel humiliated for being hurt by a commoner like you.

"And miss the chance to watch you two fucking everything up when my precious father notices that his favorite son is the one who will bring ruin to his kingdom." Hearing these words coming out of Loki's mouth makes everything even more real. If you and Thor are caught, you will be sentenced to death. And he will be king anyway.

"Tell your brother, I'll see him at the opening ceremony to welcome the leaders of each kingdom and their children." You say finishing and getting ready to go. But to your surprise, before you could leave your room, Thor was waiting for you. Accompanied, obviously, by the guard responsible for his security. You straighten up and bow, paying homage to the future king.

"Lynox, you may withdraw. The chief of the Kingsguard and I have a private matter to discuss." Thor says, looking at you. He scans you from top to bottom, as if he could undress you with just one look. You would like to live in a world where you could reciprocate with him. But we're not in that world.

"With all due respect, Your Highness, Lynox can witness our conversation. After all, as the second-in-command of the Kingsguard, he should be informed about matters concerning your security." You say, looking seriously at Thor and Lynox, who is unsure whether to leave or stay to listen to the conversation.

"Lynox." Thor says, and that's all it takes for Lynox to leave us alone. In the kingdom, Thor's word is only second to that of his parents. Soon, you and he are staring at each other.

"Are you proud? Your word holds more weight than mine in every corner of the kingdom. Want to test that with someone else? Your brother is in my room right now. Want to try to get him out with just a command, Your Highness?" You're upset because when you and Thor started to see each other as more than just royal guard and royalty, he promised he wouldn't walk over you.

"Dove…" He speaks so softly. His eyes watch you as his arms draw near. Thor then pulls you close to him, embracing you tightly.

"You enjoy doing things that put both my position in the Royal Guard and my life at risk. And I'm a fool for accepting it without a fight." You say, lifting your face as Thor looks down to meet your gaze. As you lock eyes, you slowly lean in towards the future king's face, being kissed by him shortly after.

"I'll talk to my father. Try to delay having to choose a wife. Or you could…" He begins, but you already step back, knowing what he's going to suggest.

"Become your mistress?" — you are revolted by the possibility of becoming the King's mistress— "To be the woman who sleeps with the King when he's not with the Queen?" Thor looks regretful about what he was about to say. You, however, look at him determinedly.

"You will never be a mere mistress to me. We could have a family together while the queen and I can have a semblance of a wedding." You laughed at Thor's foolishness. In fact, you were even afraid that Asgard was in the hands of a foolish prince.

"My love...shut up before anyone can hear all this nonsense. I'd rather die in battle than be the woman you cheat on your wife with." You say leaving disappointed with reality. This reality makes you know that you will always be just that for Thor. A head of the Kingsguard or a mistress.

You are a little shaken when you hear a noise and go after it to find out what is happening. A man dressed as royalty stands in the middle of the kingdom's trophy room. He is not known to you, you find his presence strange but you know you need to be polite when questioning him.

"This room has restricted entry. Only Asgardian Royalty can enter here. How did you manage to get past the Royal Guard?" You question using the most serious tone of voice possible. You hold tight to the tip of your sword that is attached to your waist. The man looks at you as if enchanted.

"I think the Royal Guard is busy preparing for the arrival of great royal representatives from the main kingdoms allied to Asgard. Are you usually so straight-faced with everyone?"He asks turning towards you.

"One more step and I will be forced to attack you. Tell me who are you?" You ask, almost wielding your sword, as a way of threatening the man in front of you.

"I hope you can explain to the King how you treat visitors. But since you insist on knowing, I am Steve. Son of King Tristan, future King of Kyrax." He speaks with such petulant calm. It's like he knew you would regret being hostile towards him.

"Your Highness could have told me you were a prince from the beginning. I hope you know that my approach was just security protocol. I will leave you alone." You speak cordially, trying not to show how embarrassed you are.

"However, I prefer your company. " He says as he watches you walk away. You turn around almost abruptly, confused by his revelation.

"I don't know how things are in your kingdom, Your Highness, but here commoners and royalty don't usually keep each other company unless it's essential." You speak keeping a safe distance between you and Prince Steve. Something useless since he doesn't know personal space and quickly got too close to you

"The Commander of the Royal Guard is right, Believe me, she avoids spending time alone even with me if it's not necessary." Thor says, entering the trophy room and staying close, but in a professional manner. The tension between the two is palpable and you mentally prepare yourself for what's to come.

[plainlo-inthemorning]

Pairing: Loki x Jane Foster (post Dark World) Rating: 18+ Warnings: Smut, violence, shameless flirting.  Words: 29 k

Summary:

It has been a year since those horrid events on Svartalfheim – and 27 days since Loki showed up on Jane Foster’s doorstep in Tromsø with an elaborate tale of “intricate Asgardian politics” and “temporary exile”. Now, Jane is somehow housing the God of Mischief while Odin and Thor debate his fate. Says Loki ...

[calaroseeey]

Hold Me in the Rain

Loki x Jane Foster. 497 words. Warnings: None. Rating: All.

Summary: Loki's Aesir guise falls in front of Jane.

· · ────── *.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.* ────── · ·

She knew he was alien. That's one of the things that drew her to him, his connection to knowledge and realms beyond her imagination. His seidr was weak after Odin's death, as it was he who wrapped Loki in an Aesir guise.

It was a Saturday night and Jane had just finished her research for the day when Loki felt the strings of his illusion begin to loosen.

When it finally fell all the worst endings and fears and all that he dreaded felt so close and real. That all he had built with Jane would come crashing down in one swift motion, just like his childhood, and his identity, when he learned his heritage.

“Jane,” he forced out in a whisper in their dimly lit living room in London. “I’m- you don’t want- I’m not-“

“Loki,” she walked towards him. He stepped back, refusing to look at her. She wanted to run towards him and pull him into her arms, she wanted to kiss him and show him whatever shame he had was instilled by lies.

His breath was trembling and he was clenching his fists to keep them from shaking. In one swift motion, he turned towards the door and ran outside.

She followed him out, stopping on the stairs midway, not bothering to close the door from the rain.

Raindrops bounced into the puddles on the pavement, reflecting the warm light of the street lamps and the sideways light from inside the house.

He stopped on the pavement, then turned around to face her, still out of breath. She noticed he was shaking, but not from the cold.

She stood two steps up from the ground, face to face with him. He finally looked at her with all his focus.

“Jane!” he screamed, his voice ragged and resembling a sob. “Don’t you see me?!”

His illusion was fully shattered, she saw his arms shaking at his sides, saw his shoulders stiffen, his eyes wet with fear and terror. She saw his broken heart and the open wounds from his childhood still unhealed. She saw his desperation to trust again, his aching thirst to love again. She saw the hope that hummed silently in his heart. She wanted to give him the affirmation of everything he’s hoped for, that he can be loved, and is loved.

Fear flickered across his eyes, his position nudged slightly backward, as if ready to run.

He didn’t speak, though she saw his lips fight against saying whatever was begging to be spoken.

“It’s okay.” she said quickly - too quickly. She blinked against the rain falling across her face. “I’m not afraid, okay?” she said softer.

He nodded in the slighted movement.

She stepped down one step, then reached to put her hand on his shoulder. He shuddered under her touch.

“Let me kiss you,” her voice came out more broken than intended. She couldn’t tell between the tears or raindrops on his face, but she wiped them all away.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Sticking Point 3

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon, possible violence, illness, death, bullying, ableism, and other elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are sent in the place of your ailing sister to marry a stranger. (Regency AU)

Character: Loki

Note: Work is starting to get pretty busy again.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me &lt;3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

You are left undisturbed for near a day after the news arrives. You should be grateful for the reprieve but you cannot find respite among your unease. 

Edith is gone, your world is splintered, yet this marriage must proceed. Not for your own sake, but for your family's. You expect your father wouldn't be content to have you return to his household. The only benefit to your sister's tragedy is that he was able to rid himself of you.

Doreen informs you that you are to ready for another lunch. You choose a gown of faded peach and a bonnet with a narrow rim and white ribbon. She helps you dress before leaving to look in on your mother.

You look in the mirror and wonder if maybe you were prettier your voice wouldn't matter so much. You pin the brooch with the blue bird just below your neckline. You pretend Edith is there with you, talking you through this. I believe in you, sissy, remember when you stole my cap back from that angry hog?

You wait to be called. You hate to presume or wait around where others might be disturbed by your presence. It isn't Doreen who comes but another servant, a broad steely-haired woman. She bids you out and you follow meekly, gaze straying to the golden frames and painted canvas.

The meal is hosted in the dining hall. A long ebony table with matching chairs. Each seat is upholstered with emerald velvet and capped with curlicued posts. You are shown to yours by Parson to the one reserved for you. 

Your mother sits with her tears hidden behind her fan, not so much as looking in your direction. Doreen stands at her shoulder and offers a handkerchief. You can only hear the reprimand she would issue should you be blubbering so.

You rise as the duke enters, but not alone. Your mother leans heavily on the way, gathering herself with several flaps of her fan. She snaps it shut and tucks it away as she raises her chin, shooing away Doreen.

“Lady Thea,” Laufeyson begins before addressing you, “my parents, the Grand Duke Odin and the Grand Duchess, Frigga.”

He steps aside as an older couple stand regally in the archway. The man is burly but stout, with dark grey hair streaked with white. His jaw is set squarely and there is a familiar blue tint to his eyes. The woman is tall and blond and fair, her figure untouched by her age and her hair so golden that the grey strands only seem to make her shine.

You recognise them. The portraits in the main hall. Even with some decades since the artist’s work, they are beyond compare to their pigmented likenesses. They are as elegant and resplendent as their son. It sinks a rotten pit in your chest. Perhaps, they might not want you either.

“We’re acquainted, Thea and I,” Frigga declares, “I believe your father might recall her.”

“Yes, Lady Thea,” he bows, “I know your husband better, I’m afraid.”

The duke has a pinched look to his lip as he listens with his chin high. He moves stiffly, gesturing to the table, “mm, yes, let us be seated–”

“Loki,” Frigga says as she slowly wades forward, her skirts rippling like water, “what about your brother? He received an invitation, didn’t he?”

“Mother, certainly he did, but he is ever… unpredictable,” Loki offers. It is jarring to think of him as anything but the duke. To think he is anything but the master of Jade Park.

“Lady Jane is with child,” Frigga counters, “it might take them some time.”

“Lady Frigga, Lord Odin,” your mother begins, “I cannot remark upon your son’s hospitality enough. He’s been a wonderful host, especially…” she pauses and turns her head, touching her cheek with a gloved hand.

“Oh, we were distraught to hear of Lady Edith. Such a tragedy. So young and beautiful.”

You stare at the wall. You try not to think of the statement laced between her words. You are young too but not so beautiful.

“And your younger daughter is endearing, that is a rather charming brooch,” she turns her green irises on you.

“Thank you, Lady Fwigga,” you hold your head high as you cling to a thread of dignity.

Her cheeks bulb and there is a slight tremor in her chin before she can answer, “oh, that is a peculiar accent, dear.”

You don’t know if you should thank her. You can’t tell if she holds any derision but you’d prefer she not mention it. It’s obvious, it needn’t be emphasized.

Your eyes skitter over to Odin who watches you with quiet consideration. He does not hold the same disapproval as your father but you can’t read much in his face.

“She is all I have left,” your mother bemoans, “two daughters. That’s all I got. How I wanted to give my husband his heir but… it was not to be and now…”

“Oh, Thea,” Frigga drawls, “if you are to fraught to remain–”

“No, no,” your mother expands her fan and pushes air into her face, dabbing her tears with her knuckle, “no, I’m so happy for our families to come together.”

“As are we. It is only sensible–”

She is interrupted by some furor at the other end of the house. A smile curls her lips as a booming voice fills the corridor like thunder. As your eyes drift towards the doorway, they meet Loki’s. He looks at you with a furrow between his brows before he shifts his gaze towards the clamour.

The men rise first. You get to your feet as Parson rushes in to announce the new arrival. As he introduces Lord Thor and Lady Jane, he is almost breathless. The couple appears behind him, the towering duke clapping the groom’s shoulder so he staggers. The duchess gives a pretty smile to the grand duchess as her hand rests on her rounding stomach.

“Oh, Jane,” Frigga sweeps across the chamber to embrace her daughter-in-law without pretense, “you are immaculate,” she pulls back and cradles her cheeks, “you look well.”

“Do I? I’ve been struck sick for days.”

“But it shall pass,” Frigga avows and beckons the duchess with her to the table, “Lady Jane, my first son’s wife.”

You bow your head and your mother does the same, taking the lead as you remain silent, “Lady Jane, a delight to… meet you. Oh, my apologies,” your mother fans herself more rapidly, “your eyes, they have the same shape as my dear Edith’s.”

“Edith?” Jane utters and looks at Frigga. The grand duchess leans over to whisper gently. “Oh, my condolences, Lady Thea, oh and such timing as this?” She turns to you, “a betrothal is supposed to be a joyous affair, I cannot bear to think how you are doing.”

You don’t know what to say, as often you find yourself lacking. Your lips tremble but you do your best to keep your composure.

“I will miss my sista vewy much,” you try to speak slow and clear, but it just sounds clumsy, “I didn’t know…” you see the flicker in her eyes, the dimple in her cheek, the judgment casting a shadow over her, “I didn’t know you and yaw husband would attend.”

Jane’s lips part and her brows rise as she looks at her mother-in-law. Frigga tries not to acknowledge the almost taunting expression. You can’t. You feel it throttling you. Just be quiet.

“How fetching,” Thor intones, surprising you as he comes to stand behind his mother and wife, chewing a biscuit he snatched from the tray.

“Fetching?” Jane scoffs.

“The way she speaks, yes? I think it is… interesting.”

“That hardly matters,” Frigga insists, “it is what one says, not how they say it.”

You clamp your lips together. You want to crumple to the floor and sob. You don’t want to be stood here like some jester to entertain these people. You want to go home and see your sister’s casket. You want to be near her, even if she’s not really there.

Again, you find Loki’s distasteful glare. His throat bobs and his lips thin even further.

“Yes, yes, let us sit and eat. My staff has worked the morning to prepare us a fine lunch,” he chides, “I’d hate to see it wasted.”

🔹

You stare at your untouched plate of cold meats and cheese. You’re not very hungry. Perhaps it is grief, or more likely it is shame. You want to shrink down to a morsel of dust and disappear.

There is an odd sort of skill acquired by those who are quiet. Observation. The ability to see so much, to take in every gesture, every twitch, every look with meaning. And you do not miss those errant gazes in your direction. Some with anticipation, others with dread, each waiting for you to say another twisted syllable.

Your mother fills the silence you refuse to break. She regales the table with the story of how she met your father on the promenade, how he trod on her skirts, and she hit him with her reticule. A tale you’ve heard anon.

She hiccups suddenly and cups her hand over her mouth. You turn to look at her as her wrinkles deepen and her gulps become sobs. She shakes her hand and waves her other. Doreen appears at her shoulder.

“My lady,” the servant says.

“Oh, Lady Thea,” Frigga dismisses the maid with a subtle flick of her fingers, “let us get you some air. It is such a lovely day, and I believe we do have some matters to attend to.” She helps your mother to her feet, hanging on to her elbow, “Lord Odin, you will accompany, in case she faints.”

Odin grunts. He hasn’t said much of anything. He seems more enamoured of this plate. As he stands, he stuffs a roll of sliced ham into his mouth. Chairs scrape as you stand to see them off. Doreen follows the older trio through the archway as they set off.

You resume your seat and watch the tablecloth. Your mother was of little assistance while present but without her, you are defenseless. Loki sips from his tea as Jane spears a slice of pear with her fork and Thor cracks a hard-boiled egg in his hand.

“So, I’ve not seen you before. You haven’t debuted?” Jane asks.

Your eyes flit up to hers. You almost don’t believe she’s talking to her. You’d been praying they’d forget you were there.

“My sista was ill and she is older so I was waiting until she went fast.”

“Fast? Went fast?” Jane repeats as she pretends to think, “went fast where?”

Loki sighs and sets his cup on the saucer with a harsh clink, “first. She meant first.”

“Oh, my, apologies, I’m afraid I have a bit of trouble understanding you. I don’t think I’ve heard any sort of affectation,” he smiles falls to something more sinister, “it is rather… garish.”

“Jane,” Thor says through a mouthful of egg, stopping himself to swallow, “she speaks clearly enough.”

“I’ve heard of physicians who can tend to that. They can teach you how to pronounce your words properly. Through repetition.” She enunciates each word, making sure to move her lips deliberately.

You fight a grimace. You swallow and look at your plate. It isn't the first time someone's made those comments, she will doubtful be the last. Just like those boys who used to call you 'widiculous' or 'wavishing'.

“Please, this doesn’t need to be a whole point of conversation,” Loki reproaches.

“I am only offering advice.”

“You are the one who spoke to her. None of us wanted to hear her.”

“Loki,” Thor says appalled, “she is to be your wife.”

“I was supposed to marry her sister. The normal one. The dead one.”

You flinch and let your shoulders slump. You bring your hands up and cover the brooch on your dress, as if holding Edith tight. Your lip pokes out as you fight a tide of grief that threatens to erupt.

“Aw, look, she is going to cry,” Jane taunts.

“Jane,” Thor’s voice hardens, “no more.”

Jane snaps her lips shut and rolls her beautiful hazel eyes. She pops the slice of sugared pear into her mouth behind her cruel smirk. Loki sneers at his fork as he twirls it in his hand. Thor gives you a glum look but it lands like a slap. He cannot relate to you, he can only pity you, and that is worse than contempt.

“If you are cuwious, Lady Jane, I have been to many physicians. They cannot help me,” you shrug, “just like they could not help my sista.”

Thor clucks and lets out a breath through his nostrils. Jane doesn’t falter, smiling as she chews, and Loki pushes himself to his feet. His chair threatens to topple as he swivels on his heel.

“I would see to our parents, make certain they are well and that this… contract is still in effect,” he takes rigid steps along the table, “I should hate to squander any more time in uncertainty.”

[beheworthy]

#anger issues

[qswiper]

:)

[eddiewithcat]

i just think the thor/jane loki/mobius parallels are insane and need to be studied immediately

the one plaguing my thoughts currently:

thor turning down the throne, telling odin that he “would rather be a good man than a great king” “is this my son i hear, or the woman he loves?”

and then we have mobius literally telling loki “you could be whoever, whatever you wanna be. even someone good” (insinuating that mobius loves loki which— obviously)

and there are so many more that i do not have the time to list out but .

God.