Okay, so this is a product of my brain on a mixture of exhaustion, law school, and too much... Red Bull. I remember reading a post apocalyptic Lokane fic a ways back, so if that's yours and this is too similar… well, you know what they say: good writers copy; great writers steal; and so-so writers make excuses. :-D Speaking of excuses, you should ignore anything from canon that I conveniently... forgot about.

Posted on Tumblr and AO3, as well.

Prologue. Sound of History.

History, despite its wrenching pain, cannot be unlived, but if faced with courage, need not be lived again.

- Maya Angelou

Onus [oh-nuh s]
Noun.
1. a difficult or disagreeable obligation, task, burden, etc.
2. burden of proof.

3. blame or responsibility.

Loki would have given anything to make her shut up when he first brought her back to Asgard.

Now, Loki would give anything to hear her again.

"Jane," he called, rapping on the heavy wooden door.

He paused, straining his senses as far as they would go, before opening the door.

She sat in a chair next to the window, staring blankly outside. If not for her gown, he might have been fooled into thinking she hadn't moved. As he made his way into the room, he took care not to silence his footfalls, and her head turned to acknowledge his presence.

"Thor has asked after you," he said, forcing an appropriate amount of cheer into his voice.

Jane Foster stared back at him with an empty gaze and dead eyes.

"I could escort you into the gardens tonight," he choked out. "I could finally show you Asgard's skies."

Silence.

Living as a god, Loki's patience far surpassed that of a mortal, but fell quite short of a standard Asgardian. How many days did they have to live on repeat before the life returned to this husk of a creature? 'Patience,' Eir told him every time he asked. 'You must be patient.'

His eyes narrowed and his lips thinned. He squared his shoulders and stared at Jane.

Patience be damned.

A Year Ago…

She'd been absurdly brave when the invasion started and the alien battleships had darkened the sky.

Silent and still, for weeks they'd remained hovering en mass above the largest of Midgard's cities. A week after their arrival, Thor had received word of the situation from his group of Merry Men on Midgard. He'd headed there, Asgardian Merry Men in tow, to fix the problem. Loki'd followed along for the entertainment.

She'd greeted Thor with a face full of determination and a mouth full of bravery.

"I'm not going to sit on the sidelines for this, Thor."

Loki had been sure that Jane Foster wouldn't survive the first battle, if it came to that.

He'd been slightly mistaken.

After allowing the populace of Midgard enough time to amass their forces and then descend into the black pit that panic creates, the alien force had made quick work of the power system that Midgardians so heavily relied upon. Rather than heed the counsel of the Asgardians, who made a living of war, the militaries of Midgard's most powerful countries went on the offensive, attempting to remove the invaders by force.

They'd failed.

The ships had let forth their own armies.

Loki had been knuckle deep in the gut of one of those aliens at the end of the first wave - a week long onslaught of invaders that Loki knew to be a mere test of Midgard's remaining defenses - when he'd noticed Jane Foster's presence.

She hadn't been glassy eyed and cold on the ground before him, as he'd anticipated. Her face held the same look of bravery and determination but had started to gain a hardness that was unsettling in its familiarity. It wasn't a bravery born of stupidity, such as Thor's, or due to her companions; while "the big guy" frequently kept his eye on her, her preferred companions, Darcy Lewis and Eric Selvig, were remarkably unremarkable.

He'd found himself once again in the process of gutting an enemy when he realized where he'd seen the look before. It was the same look Mother had prior to leaving for battle. He'd chuckled to himself, wrenching his dagger and hand free of the blue alien goop.

Jane Foster wore the face of a Valkyrie.

Okay, yeah, I know. It's short. It might not be entirely coherent. The timelines may change in the future. I was trying to get it all out while it was still in my head though. Thoughts? Remember, reviews make my Muse happy...