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Jane Foster poked her barely touched whole grain, multicolored, alphabet cereal with her fork that looked as though it would start to bend with a few more light yet mechanical repeated blows. The blunt metal came in contact with the white scraped plastic bottom, charging through the cold, condensed layer of milk and the completely soaked O-shaped cereal bites that were beginning to sink, having gained weight from absorbing the cool dairy beverage. Jane sighed deeply, still pounding the inside of the bowl like a butcher would a lamb leg, except much softer. She tried focusing on the cereal that sank to the bottom when the fork touched them, then popped right back up to the surface again seconds later. Jane found this boring and she felt like an idiot.
All the other people around her were occupied with things to do. Meaningful things to do. Professor Selvig was looking through his microscope, trying to see if the skeletal remains of some sort of Asgardian insect possessed any healing organisms. Rough sketches and painted diagrams of the nine realms overlapping were strewn all over the table top. He comes from Asgard. Jane shook her head to get the wicked lingering thoughts out of her head, but she knew it never worked. She tried concentrating on something else.
Darcy and her intern Ian were cleaning the utensils and plastic plates at the sink, whispering spontaneous nothings in each others ears as they kept 'accidentally' brushing their hands against one another's. Darcy was constantly blushing and Ian was talking to her, but Jane didn't care what he said. She was staring longingly at the obvious couple, thinking. Of him. As happy as she felt for her goofy friend, Jane couldn't help but start tearing up as Darcy and Ian made out in front of the sink, almost toppling over when Darcy realized that she had left the tap on. Water spilled out of the sink, right onto their clothes. Darcy cursed aloud and stormed upstairs to change, leaving Ian to his duty. He shrugged cluelessly and continued washing the dishes. Jane let her tears fall in a fountain into the disgusting breakfast bowl still sitting on the table in front of her. She realized how ridiculous she must have looked, so she quickly wiped them away with her sleeve.
"Jane, are you alright?" Ian asked the crying scientist, laying a comforting hand on her right shoulder. Aware that she was too late to hide her surging emotions, she gave in, sobbing uncontrollably into the cradle of her hands. Ian awkwardly pulled a chair out from underneath the table and sat next to her, clumsily scrambling his jean pockets for a packet of tissue. He seemed to inwardly celebrate his victory, having found the last remaining paper napkin, its corner protruding out from the navy blue Tempo packet. He hastily shook it to spread the small square sheet out and handed it to her, proud of his completed task.
"Thanks." she sobbed, dabbing her glistening eyes with the napkin. She couldn't stop crying. She didn't want to stop herself from freeing her balled up feelings in her aching heart. Heck, Jane had never cried this hard ever since her pet goldfish died. Just then, Darcy came back down the stairs. She ran over to her best friend, pulling her into a warm bear hug, making Selvig glance up from the microscope in concern.
"God, why am I crying?" Jane asked herself, feeling silly. She tried to force a smile on her aching, dry lips, but she couldn't. She just kept leaning into the warmth of her friend's body for comfort. "He'll come back. He promised me. After all, it's only been, uh, six months." she sounded as if she was talking to herself, trying to calm herself down.
"I dunno, 'coz last time, wasn't he gone for, like, two years?" Ian asked, gaining a violent punch in the stomach and a furious glare from Darcy. She scoffed as he rubbed his sore stomach, his face crumpling in pain.
"You earned it, douchebag."
"You're right. Maybe I should stop. Might as well. I mean, what kind of gorgeous, handsome, awesome, immortal Norse God would come back to Earth to be with some stupid, whiny, annoying, useless girl like me." Jane's words sounded snappier than she had wanted it to, but she was too focused on blaming herself for being worthless and illogical.
"I swear, when that Thunder Thug does come back, I'll bash him up with his Meow-meow hammer thingy!" shouted Darcy, swinging her arms ferociously in the air. Ian and Jane stifled a laugh as Dr. Selvig chuckled behind his microscope. Darcy grinned a toothy grin. Their laughter was drowned out by the sudden grumble in the ground.
The house moved. Everything in the house wobbled and a vase toppled over. Ian dived under the cheap flower pot and caught it just in time, sacrificing the framed photo of all four of them in Disneyland which now lay on the floor in pieces. Table glasses spilled their contents onto papers and objects. A strong breeze rustled the velvet curtains and Darcy spotted a mini tornado that led from a blue portal high up in the sky through the clouds down to their small porch.
"Look!!" she pointed at the spinning column of air that emitted a rainbow glow, slowly decreasing the speed and energy and revealing the being standing in the center of the eye. Jane smiled and covered her mouth with her hand in pure joy as she ran out of the door and stood in front of the fading vortex. Cold air ran down her spine like ice, but she didn't care. There standing there with his broad shoulders, his muscular build, his metal armor, his iconic cape and his hammer, was the man, or rather, God she had been waiting for.
Thor smiled widely, walking close to her. He stared lovingly into her eyes with his beautiful blue ones and cupped her face with his hands. Before he had time to drink in the feel of the sculpture of her face, Jane stood on her toes, put wrapped her hands round the base of his neck and kissed him roughly, all that sorrow and depression in her heart slowly melting away. He smiled against her moving lips and did not hesitate for a seconds to snake his arms over her slender waist. After a few moments, Jane pulled away to breathe, hearing Thor smirk in satisfaction.
"I see you did not enjoy my absence, Jane Foster."
She just slapped him as hard as she could. No. No, she did not enjoy the time when he was away. Suddenly, a wave of anger washed over her and she slapped him again, hurting her hand. She huffed angrily when he did not budge.
"Where the hell were you?! Don't you know I've been crying for you? I even tried to start drinking, for god's sake!! And it was even worse for me this time, because I couldn't help thinking that, that you might not come back - for another two years. Maybe even forever, I don't know!" she yelled, pacing back and forth, her hands clasped tightly behind her back. "Maybe you shouldn't have come back. I don't think I'm worth it."
Jane turned to walk away when she felt a hand firmly grip her arm and spin her around. She gasped slightly as Thor pulled her close to him, his forehead pressed against hers and his right hand playing with the tiny hairs at the nape of her neck. The other hand was placed protectively around her waist. "Jane." he whispered, putting his finger under her chin to make her look at him. "Jane, look at me."
"You are the most beautiful, kind-hearted, talented, most clever maiden I have ever encountered. These are the qualities which I see in no other Asgardian goddess. You are special. You are the angel in my dreams, as well as the light in my darkness. Jane Foster, to me, you are irresistible." he said softly, his voice full of promise and truthfulness.
"Not even that Sif girl?"
"Better." he simply said, lightly caressing her smooth, blushing cheek. "Much better."
"Are you going to go back?"
"I have given up the throne of Asgard because I know that I will never understand rule as much as my deceased brother Loki did." he sighed sadly at the memory. "My father has granted me the freedom to forever stay in Midgard, where my heart truly belongs."
"I love you, Thor."
"I love you too, Jane Foster. I will protect and adore you for the rest of my Asgardian days, and to the last of my Asgardian breath. This I swear to you. I am a man who keeps his word."
He kissed her knuckles which were now tense with glee and excitement. She desperately pulled him into yet another passionate kiss, each one taking turns at smiling against each other's lips. Jane wanted this moment to last forever. When she at last broke away, she saw Darcy giving her a thumbs up and a grin through the window. She rolled her eyes, smiling as she stood on her toes again to kiss the tall God's forehead before slowly walking back into the house, Thor right behind her, just as she hoped he would be for the rest of their lives.
She burst out laughing when she saw Darcy and Ian working up a heated make out session right in front of the working Dr. Selvig, who scowled, muttered something about the dangers of teenage pregnancy and moved to another smaller wooden table with his beloved microscope.
Loki admired the golden, almighty chair he at last was free to sit on. How he had fought so long and hard for this moment, to see everyone in Asgard bow down to him, kneeling before their new king until their weak little kneecaps bled and turned into stone. It was his birthright. He deserved to be their new successor. He was the rightful ruler of the universe. No matter what, Loki intended to avenge the Frost Giants - his own species. The previous king, his father Odin, decided to keep this terrible secret from him, only to fall into the Odinsleep once Loki chose to confront him about his true origin. No matter what Loki did, no matter how hard he tried to impress him, Odin always seemed to favor that ape of a son who only cared about fame and violence, because Odin couldn't have a some lowly Frost Giant sitting on the throne.
Loki chuckled evilly. Yet now here he was, sitting on this beautiful chair. He now had that so-called 'weight of responsibility' on his shoulders, or rather, his weight on responsibility's shoulders. He smirked. Dressed in fine metallic armor of green and gold, golden antlers sprouting upwards proudly from his helmet and his scepter in hand, he looked the part of every science fiction writers' portrayal of a sinister ruler. Loki now had every advantage, and he intended to keep it that way. Thor now believed that he was dead, and so did everyone in Asgard and Midgard who knew about his existence. He intended to surprise them all, disguised as Odin while gathering everyone before him, only to reveal himself as the God of Mischief.
He sat deeper into the chair and immediately reverted into his shape-shift disguise chair when the guard came over and announced the arrival of his prisoner. He laughed a low, single laugh, leaning forward, his firm back arching like a vertical bridge.
"The prisoner seeks an audience with you, My Lord."
"Send him in."
The guard gave him an abrupt nod before hurriedly walking back out of the large golden gates, giving orders to the other guards standing outside the throne room. They followed suit. Moments later, they came back in with a prisoner in unbreakable chains.
Malekith.
He had pale, powdered skin on the left side of his face and dark, dried, cracked skin on the other. It was like a broken stone slab cursed with all the sins of the earth. His elven ears protruded greatly from his smaller, bald skull. A tight fitting helmet covered the rest of his head and attached his black armor to his crippled body. His once grandly braided, white, single bundle of hair now draped loosely and untidily over his hulking shoulders. Barefooted, he made his way to Odin (or rather, Loki) and fell onto his aching knees before him. Loki signaled the guards to leave, then used his forces to seal all the windows and doors. He then leaned back comfortably into the throne.
"Odin." Malekith snarled with all his inborn ferocity and hatred. He lifted his head and looked directly at the King, boring his eyes into his. That ice and anger visible in his crystal orbs made Loki envious of Malekith's ability to make others fear himself so greatly. Loki smiled playfully at the furious fallen villain while revealing his true identity.
"Malekith. It's good to see you again, my dear prisoner."
"No, that's not possible!" Malekith cried, thrashing at his chains to no avail. "You are the traitor that died before my very eyes!"
"Yes, well, I do have my ways."
"Why have you brought me here, foolish Asgardian?"
"Enough with that horrible tone, Malekith! I saved you from that ship!"
"Yet I saw you stab one of my warriors before you were stabbed to death yourself!"
Loki chuckled. "That was an illusion forged by my brother's desperation and grief. But that is not the matter I saved your life to talk to you about." he said, glancing sarcastically at his fingernails.
"What do you want with me?!"
"I'm going to give you a present," he paused, his back facing furious but hopeless Malekith. "but only if you give me something in return."
There was a long silence in between the fallen Dark Elf and the sinister new successor. Malekith hesitated for only a second before lunging at him, despite himself being bound in chains. Loki smirked and placed the glowing center of his scepter to the prisoner's chest.
"Careful there, my friend! Do you not want to see your beloved daughter again?"
Malekith stopped thrashing, a confused expression on his face. He let go of Loki, falling back onto his knees and hanging his head. Loki smiled, took hold of the chains and pulled, lightly suffocating the elf. Oh yes, he had tasted torture and it was delicious.
"My daughter was slain by that pathetic brother of yours twenty six years ago." he spat menacingly.
"You're wrong there, my friend."
"What? You have her? Tell me where she is!!"
"She is yours, but only if you promise me one thing. Just a little favor."
"She's alive? But how?! I saw her fall through the ground when Thor Odinson made the earth break with his hammer of invincibility!"
"Then you don't know a thing about your own child. You are her enemy. She is an Asgardian warrior. Part of the Warrior's Three. I'm sure you've heard of it. It's their ridiculous little Asgardian clan."
Malekith snarled and pounded the marble floor, denting it deeply. He was now standing in a spreading hole in the floor with cracks spreading outwards like thin, twisting trees scrambling for sunlight. His expression remained ferocious as he hissed at Loki, showing his untidy yellowing teeth. Loki only laughed and pulled harder on the chains, nearly snapping Malekith's neck in half. He put his hand to his throat, gasping for air. A faint metallic sound echoed across the room when Loki once again placed the tip of his scepter to Malekith's heaving chest.
"I have a plan, but you must bring my father and the entire planet of Jotunheim back to life."
"You speak of madness, Frost Giant!! There is no way such a realm as destroyed as Jotunheim can ever be resurrected! I do not lie, I have tried as many ways possible to bring back my people of Svartalfheim, but alas! I could not do so without the Aether. Now that it is no longer within my reach, there is no hope."
Once again, an odd silence occurred. Loki leisurely paced back and forth while watching his prisoner glare at him, never focusing on anything else. The tension was so thick, it could be sliced apart with a blade.
"Ah, but you are well aware of the Gryle."
"It is but a myth!!"
"It is not. I have traveled to Northern Midgard and I have sensed a very strong magnetic energy. It is real. With it, I shall conquer all nine realms, while you can revive your people - and see your daughter again."
"That... seems like an appealing preposition."
"Oh, it's not a preposition, dear friend, it is an order." Loki bellowed, using his powers to pin Malekith against the wall. He landed with a thud and he squinted in pain. Loki then pulled on his chains even harder, making Malekith's eyes bulge and his adrenaline surge faster.
"Yes, yes I will assist you!! Now let me see my daughter!" Malekith gasped.
"After we find the Gryle."
"You have my promise."
"Fantastic! We shall set off tomorrow!"
Loki let Malekith go and ordered the guards to come and take him away. Before he was thrown back into the cold, dark, hidden dungeon, Malekith had one small request.
"Please, Your Majesty, let me know her name." the Dark Elf pleaded mournfully. Loki smiled, hugging his scepter closer to him as if it was his most prized possession.
"Her name is Sif."