A/N: Based on a prompt on norsekink.

What Thor could have ever seen in a Midgardian, Loki would never understand.

Especially this Midgardian. Jane Foster had to be the most insufferable woman he had ever met in his life. All things considered, it was astonishing to him. They'd only just met a few days ago, and there were people he'd known for centuries that didn't fill him with the rage and frustration that she did. The fact that the feeling was clearly mutual was the only saving grace. Really, he couldn't think of one time, from the time he first laid eyes on her to now, that she wasn't completely closed off from him in a stony silence. Around Thor, she was an open book, all bright smiles and endless questions about this new world they were exploring. Her child-like glee had mostly dissipated after the first ambush. He could only imagine that what remained of it had, with this second attack, finally died an ignoble death. Getting your arm broken and a sword slash to the stomach would do that to anyone. As he finished repairing the snapped bones in her arm and moved on to the gash in her side, she was quieter than she'd ever been. For that, Loki was grateful.

He placed a hand on the wound, and she flinched. He would've liked to tell her to suck it up. As seasoned warriors, he and his comrades received worse wounds than this on a daily basis. He had to remind himself that this was not a soldier he was talking to. She was a Midgardian, she barely even knew how to fight, let alone handle an injury with grace. To her credit, she hadn't screamed yet. She hadn't made a sound at all. It seemed as long as Thor was busy guarding them out of earshot, she was determined to stay mum.

Fine by him.

Loki conjured up a clean cloth and dipped it in the bucket of water at his side. Thanks to a handy spell, it stayed warm as the temperatures dipped below zero. Not a hint of frost lined the rim.

"This will sting," he said a split second before applying it to the edges of the wound. She could never say he hadn't warned her.

She fidgeted again and let out a tiny hiss. It wasn't a scream, but it would do for now. The pain would get to her soon enough.

"You think that's bad," he said with a silky smile. "We haven't even gotten to the salves yet."

She scrunched up her brow. If she thought that was intimidating, she was sorely mistaken.

"Why don't you just sew it back up?"

Loki paused. That was the longest string of words she'd ever directed at him. Before now, 'hello,' 'goodnight,' and 'Thor needs you,' was all she'd ever said to him. It really stood to reason that her first real words to him would be so foolish.

"You're saying you'd rather I just sew up your skin and leave you to bleed internally?"

Her cheeks went red, but she didn't look away with humiliation at her own idiocy like he thought she would.

"I just thought you could heal it all with magic like you did my arm, instead of this herb stuff you're using," she said, nodding at the salves and aloes he'd neatly arranged alongside the water bucket. He felt a rush of indignation. He'd grown and cultivated the plants himself over many passing seasons, thank you very much.

"One is not as simple as the other, Jane Foster," he explained, though he wasn't sure why he bothered. He should just glare her into submission and then finish this inane job in silence so he could go to bed already. He had aches and pains of his own that needed attention.

She snorted. "And here I thought you were so powerful."

Loki frowned deeply. He finished drying the used cloth and dropped it next to the largest medicine jar. He checked the wound to make sure the bleeding had stopped, willing himself not to give in to these obvious provocations. He was fighting a losing battle.

"I could heal nothing and leave you as you are," he muttered.

Jane smirked in the most irritating way. "No you can't. Thor would kill you."

"You really think you're worth that much to him?"

"You think you are? After everything you've done?"

This came out harsher than her previous questions had. Loki hid a smile. Finally, her true feelings were starting to come out.

Loki shook his head, placing the first of many healing salves on her wound. She seemed too engrossed in her loathing of him to acknowledge the burning sensation.

"Jane Foster, you cannot possibly hope to understand the reasons behind my actions."

"You attacked my hometown and tried to take over the earth, and thousands of people died because of you. I'd say that's all pretty easy to understand."

Well of course you would, Loki thought to himself. That's what any Midgardian would say, fragile of mind as they were. Any hope Loki had had for their capability of a higher understanding of the universe had been wiped away with his most recent visit. Why he had even wanted to rule them in the first place, he hadn't the faintest.

"What if I told you that my rule would have been in your realm's best interests?" he asked, looking her right in the eye. She looked back without fear. "What if I said that I could have brought your people infinite knowledge, expanded your minds to levels unheard of by even your greatest thinkers, if you would have only submitted yourselves to me?"

"What if I told you that you're full of shit?"

The conversation ended there, but they maintained that eye contact. Anytime Loki thought she might crack, she held strong. They were left at a stalemate. He was not going to be the one to back down, so it was lucky for Jane Foster that he'd treated wounds like this hundreds of times before. He could do it blindfolded if he wanted.

In another half hour, all that remained of the fist-sized gaping hole was a patch of pale white skin and some faint scar lines, most of which would fade away on their own given enough time. Their eyes had never moved, and his felt dry and prickly. He badly needed to blink, but he wouldn't allow himself to. Neither would she. She touched the healed over skin and pursed her lips, then nodded and stood up, still watching him intently.

"Thank you," she said.

She took three steps before turning her back to him, but Loki didn't feel victorious. He packed away his supplies, glancing up every now and then to see her diminishing form as she returned to her tent, her stride strong and purposeful.

He was beginning to understand what Thor saw in her.