Dear lovely readers,

The timeline of this story falls after the end of the Avengers, except here the battle is lost and evil must prevail. Loki has made good on his promise that one day he will come for Jane Foster, determined as he is to break every last thing that his brother loves and savours. But can he really continue to hate her when she intrigues him so?

Of course, the obligatory: I do not own the preceding story, general Marvel universe or any of the characters, although I will be taking them out of the toy box to play some. Anything you recognise is not mine.

Rated M for mature content, theme and language in later chapters.

THE ONLY EXCEPTION

Chapter 1. Fading Runes

She had thought that she might have felt something - a shiver in the earth, a hole ripped through the fabric of the mantle; something as small as the beating heart of a sparrow, something as colossal as time itself, but as it fell, she felt - nothing, nothing but the celestial bodies moving around her, nothing but the fire of a thousand suns extinguishing in unison, fading to black.

.

.

"Jane!"

The sound was familiar, but like the bombs dropping from the sky and the incessant drone of aircrafts, it did not register with her. It was all merely background noise to something greater. Far greater.

"Jane!"

Did blood always run that thick? That red? It seeped into the scarlet material, only recognisable by the metallic sting of rust which choked her eyes, and when it, when that cloak, could absorb no more, it spilled outwards, running in rivets to where it lay. Where it had fallen.

Mjolnir.

"Jane! Can you hear me?" The voice was in her ear, hands clutching at her arms, but everything seemed strangely - detached. "Jane... God Jane, I'm so sorry". They were pulling her backwards, away from the stained sand, away from the scales of armor which littered the ground, once bright with starlight, now tarnished, dull.

No. No! What were they doing? Why were they trying to move her away? He was only sleeping, only sleeping. The battle, it had taken its toll on him, he was resting, that was all. Why couldn't they see that? She ignored his open eyes staring lacklustre into the purple dusk, ignored everything but him.

A mortar shell exploded close by, showering her with dirt, shrapnel grazing her already bruised cheeks. It may as well not have. She remained silent, still, gazing, staring at the broken husk of her heart. Hands moved and dark eyes came into view, blocking the sight from her vision.

"Jane we have to go. We'll...we'll come back for, for his...body. I promise you Jane, but right now, we have to move".

The eyes searched her face once more for some hint of recognition, understanding. They were sad eyes Jane thought. So sad. With a frown and a nod to someone over her shoulder, she felt herself being lifted and forcibly removed from the scene. Now that she could see past the sad eyes, she saw him again, broken and splintered, and something snapped suddenly deep within her.

With an anguished wail she yelled out, lashing out with all her strength, desperately trying to run to him. She could change it, this wasn't real. If only they would let her show them then they would see too.

Why couldn't they just see?

The impossibly strong hands clamped down harder on her shoulders, dragging her still further away from him. She screamed again, struggling with every ounce of strength against her captor, tears blinding her vision so all she could see was a haze of dust and the fading sunlight.

She blinked and the brown eyes were back.

"I'm sorry" it told her softly. Something pricked at the soft skin of her elbow, the fading runes on the ancient hammer the last thing she saw as the world fell to darkness.

.

.

For a split second, the blinding light hurt more than the pain in her chest, until she remembered. She closed her eyes, squeezing them tightly shut, willing on the darkness. There, at least, she couldn't feel the pain that crushed her heart in an iron vice.

"I think she's waking up" came a voice to her right and then somebody was taking her hands, fingers intwining through her own. "Jane, can you hear me? It's Pepper". Her hair was brushed back from her forehead, and for a split second she thought perhaps she was home, back with her mother, that perhaps the last fourteen years had all been a dream; but then her mother was dead. They all were.

She squeezed her eyes tighter shut still, balling her face, willing the voice to go away. "I know it hurts now" she heard Pepper saying, "but this feeling won't last forever, it will get better".

"She's right you know honey" came a voice on her other side. Tony. That was Tony.

Reluctantly Jane opened her eyes. "You don't know that", she whispered hoarsely, looking from the disheveled and bleeding Tony on one side of her to the perfectly manicured woman on the other. Shifting in the bed she pulled herself up, feeling every aching muscle beneath the sheets. "Besides, he's fine. He's a god, god's don't die. He's just, he'll be, he's -".

A shudder ran through her, sobs racking her body. Letting her head fall into her hands she wept, knowing the truth deep inside of her, feeling it like a hated visitor that would, could, never leave. The bed beside her dipped and then Tony's arm was around her shoulder, pulling her closer to him. Even in the depths of her misery, she knew that this was supposed to make her feel better, but if anything, it made it so much worse. It wasn't Thor's chest, those weren't Thor's arms. She would never feel those around her again. He would never hold her again. He would never kiss her again. He would never love her again. Never.

It was then that the truth came crashing to the surface and Jane's sobs subsided into hysterics, her body shaking with a force so violent she thought that maybe her heart was so broken, so mangled, that this might just be it stuttering its final beats before stopping altogether.

"I'll get some tea", Pepper said quietly to her side. Jane felt rather than saw Tony's head shake next to her, some silent communication passing between them. "Okay" said Pepper quietly, her voice retreating from Jane's side.

Tony said nothing, only continued to hold her tight against him. When Pepper returned he loosened his grip only momentarily as he reached out to her. He sounded despondent when he next spoke again, although Jane could barely hear him over the blood thundering through her ears.

"I'm sorry for doing this again honey, but it's for the best".

He pulled her into him closer, this time the stinging in her thigh as he reached around her. It's a bigger dose, the rational part of her brain told her, somehow still working behind the fog of misery. Perhaps, she thought, perhaps I'll go to sleep forever, never to be awoken by my Prince.

.

.

Even through the enforced doors, the pounding still echoed around the living space.

"Stark!" came a muffled voice from the other side. "Stark! Open up now."

Pepper entered the entrance hall to find Tony looking towards the door, his head cocked to one side. She too looked towards the source of the noise, then back to Tony.

"Are you going to get that?" she asked, coming to stand by his side.

"Stark! I know you're there, open this door right this second!"

"Doesn't sound too happy with me does he?" Tony said to Pepper, "I'll leave it to you" he said jovially, uncrossing his arms and pushing Pepper towards the door.

She stared back at him in disbelief as he rounded the corner to the sitting room. With a sigh she straightened her skirt and pulled open the door.

"Sta- ah - Miss Potts" said a bleeding and bruised, and now slightly embarrassed Erik Selvig, his hand still raised to beat against the door.

"Mr Selvig" she smiled politely, "please do come in". He dipped his head to her slightly and shuffled forward. Closing the door she directed him to the sitting room, where Tony sat languidly on the sofa, his head whipping around as if this visitor to his home was a complete surprise.

"Erik" he said, standing up with a smile on his face, "well, you are looking a little bit worse for wear aren't you, and how-"

"Where is she?" Erik interrupted, his eyes cold, back straight. "Where is Jane?"

Tony sighed, the smile falling from his face. "Resting. She's safe, although..." He ran a hand through his hair and fell back on to the sofa, closing his eyes.

"It's true then? The rumours? Thor really is - gone?" said Erik quietly, moving to sit on the edge of the sofa across from Tony.

"I'll make us some drinks" Pepper said softly and left the room.

"Well, I mean, what do I know about Asgardian Gods? Maybe they have nine lives like a bloody cat, but, fuck." He passed his hand across his eyes, as if he were trying to wash away the memory from his head. "He looked, well, you know, to me".

Erik nodded silently, his fingers twisting the dirty hat in his hands.

"I mean, fuck, he killed all those Mr Frostys, whatever the hell he calls them, single handedly, him and that ghastly looking hammer of his. Didn't think anything could ever hurt him. He is...he was - infallible - or so we thought".

"What happened? Tell me" said Erik quietly as Pepper placed a teapot wordlessly on the table in front of him and passed him a mug.

"I can't even, just, it's so impossible" Tony stuttered.

"It's not impossible - the Asgardians, they're not actually immortal, not completely anyhow. From what I know of Norse mythology, if even we can still call it myth, is that they are sustained by the golden Apples of Idunn. Their lifespans are therefore impossible for us to comprehend, but there will come a time when they can and will die. It is not impossible for Thor to have perished" said Erik, looking at Tony over the rim of his teacup.

"No, no, that's not what I mean. It was the sight of it that was so impossible, so magnificent, yet so chaotic".

"The sight of what?"

"That bridge of yours. The one you and Jane are always talking about".

Erik was staring at Tony, his expression confused and sincere. "You saw the bifrost? You saw the bridge reaching in the sky?"

Tony shook his head and let it fall to his chest, not able to meet Erik's eyes any longer. Pepper silently took his hand in her own. "No Erik. I saw it falling. I saw the very heavens themselves falling".

"What?!" Erik cried, jumping to his feet. "That's not possible".

"I can assure you it is Erik. It is because I saw it."

"Well you're obviously mistaken then Stark, the bifrost would not fall. It cannot fall, it is against-"

"Are you calling me a liar Selvig?" said Tony, rising angrily.

"Enough. That's enough" said Pepper suddenly, walking between the two men and placing a hand on Erik's arm, looking at him earnestly in the eyes. "I, I saw it myself Mr Selvig. It came from nowhere, a kaleidoscope of light that burst from behind the clouds, far brighter, far more real and solid than any rainbow I have ever seen before. But then, it was just like crystal breaking, it, it just seemed to snap, as if it collapsed upon its own weight. And, and it fell - it seemed to take a lifetime to fall you know, and in that time it was as if I saw the whole world and the worlds beyond that and beyond that still, and I saw myself, but it wasn't myself. But it still fell. It was tragic, but beautiful, beautiful and tragic all at once."

Pepper stopped, brushing away the tears that she hadn't realised had slid down her cheeks. "It fell onto Thor, My Selvig. This bridge, this bifrost as you call it, it fell. That's how it happened, that's how Thor died.

He was crushed. Crushed by the falling stars".

.

.

When Jane next awoke the room was in darkness. Her mouth was dry and she wondered how long she'd been out for. Judging from the pounding in her head it must have been a while. She didn't even know if it was the middle of the day or night.

Her head spun as she placed her bare feet on the floor and made her way to the door of the room. Gently, she pressed her ear against the wood, and not being able to make out any sound, pushed it open.

The living spaces of the flat were in darkness, huge metal shutters drawn over the glass windows which surrounded it. A clock on the counter illuminated the time as 3.00, and judging by a lack of both Tony and Pepper, that meant three in the morning.

Jane tiptoed across to the kitchen area and ran herself a glass of water. She wondered what they would do if they found her out here - send her back to bed? Drug her again if she refused to comply? The darkness, it was not entirely unwelcome, and she knew that they only cared for her, but pain was all she had left of Thor now; they couldn't just keep taking that away.

Setting the empty glass down she moved back to the room, her mind made up: she couldn't stay here, not any longer. She would not be babied, treated like fragile china, when all she wanted to do was scream until her lungs gave out. She needed time alone, away from everything and everyone.

Fearful to turn on the lights she navigated the room in near total darkness, managing to find a duffel in the wardrobe, shoving whatever else she could find into the bag.

Someone, most likely Pepper, had changed her clothes whilst she had been sedated, and although the silk of the pyjamas was delicate against her beaten skin, she hastily took it off and struggled on a pair of jeans which were much too long in the leg, and a jumper whose arms fell way past her wrists. She quickly pushed them up and managed to find her dirt encrusted shoes which miraculously hadn't been taken away with the rest of her belongings.

She stepped in only her socks to the living room, heading to the door with shoes and bag in hand, her heart beating a little faster. A movement to her right caused her to jump and she pressed a hand quickly over her mouth to still the scream that had threatened to escape.

Jane watched as something turned in its sleep on the sofa, and could have cried when she recognised the fatherly face of Erik. She longed to reach out to him, to brush away those perpetual worried creases from his forehead. It did not even cross her mind why he was here. She knew he was here for her.

Guilt stopped her in her tracks as she looked at the sleeping figure of the man that had been more of a father figure towards her than anyone else. Was it fair of her to leave them? Was it right? If she stayed, she would be well cared for, surrounded by her friends, now her family. But it smothered her. She longed to be alone with her own thoughts, alone to wallow in her own misery. They could not protect her forever.

With one last look she moved past Erik, quietly opening the front door and only slipping on her shoes once she had safely made it outside. She wondered if perhaps Tony had some advanced software on the door which let him know when it had been opened, and quickened her pace when she realised that, knowing Tony, he most likely did.

A futile jab at the lift banks controls proved that the lift was no longer working, and so Jane took the stairs. Despite the downwards descent she still felt the weakness in her body like a poison, slowing her every step. After five minutes she had to stop, waiting for the black spots dancing before her vision to disappear.

Finally though she emerged into the night, but this was not the New York which she had left only three days ago. No. This was - carnage. The air was thick with smoke and the acrid taste of metal and burnt rubber. Cars were strewn over the roads, rubble at every turn, fires dancing in the corners of her eyes.

But what struck Jane most was the silence. It was like a blanket laid over the city, stifling it, suffocating it. She shuddered and forced herself to move forwards. He had won then, after everything that they had tried to do to stop him, he had still won. It had all been a waste. Thor had died in vain.

Few cars looked as though they were still drivable, but those that were Jane tried, letting out a grunt of frustration when not one opened. Tears were clouding up her vision again but she pressed forward, finally happening upon an abandoned taxi whose doors opened to her, the driver obviously keen to leave in a hurry, the keys glinting in the ignition. With a sigh of relief Jane clambered in, throwing the duffel on to the seat next to her and wiping her eyes.

With a start she thought she saw something move in the blackened building next to her, but as her eyes searched desperately from window to window she found nothing. Gulping down her fear she turned the keys and steadied her shaking hands against the steering wheel. The purr of the engine felt abnormally loud in the silence, but she blocked it out as she wound her way through broken buildings and overturned cars.

Finally she made it on to the freeway, thankful that the previous owner had thought it fit to fill up the tank before the whole world was plunged into armageddon. Here too was silent, cars littered on the sides of the road, hers now the only vehicle moving steadily been the abandoned husks of metal. She had already made up her mind that she could not go to anywhere where she might be recognised. It was too dangerous to even attempt to contact any of her friends, if even they were still alive. No, she would have to go somewhere no one would expect her to be, somewhere where she could be truly alone.

Pulling over she opened the glovebox of the taxi, an assortment of receipts and empty wrappers falling out as she did so. With a quick rummage though she pulled out a worn map of the area, her eyes scanning and quickly located an area which she decided to head for. Placing the map on her lap she moved off again.

Steadily the night sky turned from black to purple to red, and as the sun began to rise, Jane turned into a near empty car park, the sign above it proclaiming that this was the southern entrance to the Ramapo Valley Reservation. Shutting off the ignition she climbed out of the car, and with a frightened look around, set off into the reserve itself.

Here, hopefully, there would be no people, no skrulls, just herself. Alone. She climbed up the rocky paths, marked by years of constant footfall, before turning off into the forest, devoid of any of its usual sounds. At a waterfall she stopped for a drink and to massage her aching shoulder as the duffel became heavier, seemingly with each step.

Not only once did she wonder why she had come here, why she had neglected her friends and a warm and safe environment to come to the reserve by herself, to stay gods knew where. But she had to do this, she had to remember Thor in all his glory, she had to be alone with her memories. And so despite her reservations she continued to push on, eventually finding herself at the entrance to a natural cave in a small hillside.

"Hello?" she called out unsteadily, fearful to step inside lest anything - unpleasant, be hiding within. Receiving no response she stepped nervously forward, letting her eyes adjust to the darkness inside. As she had hoped, it was empty and she explored it quickly, glad to find that it stretched relatively far back into the hillside. The rain began to patter down outside and she pulled her jacket closer around her, thankful that Pepper owned clothes that weren't all only Prada and Gucci.

Feeling the tired weariness in her bones, she dragged her bag further away from the entrance to the cave, curling up on the floor around it, hidden in the darkness.

She wept, even as she fell asleep.

.

.

That night a storm hit. Jane cried, not just with fright, but with remembrance. The storms belonged to Thor, they were his to control. But now as the rain slashed in heavy forks outside the mouth of the cave and the thunder rumbled viciously in the sky, she wondered whether that mantle had already been passed on to another, or was just this work of nature, unbidden, defiant, wayward now that it's master had gone?

Jane sobbed and curled tighter into herself, hugging desperately at her knees. "I miss you" she whispered into the night, choking suddenly, "oh god, I miss you so much".

The thunder rumbled again, and the preceding sheets of lightening lit up the night sky. Once, twice, the sky flashed blindingly white, and then suddenly, on the third, the whiteness framed a horrific silhouette standing in the mouth of the cave, tall and ghastly horns sharp as blades reaching towards the heavens.

Jane screamed, her panic desperate as the sky faded to black once more and the dark silhouette merged into the night. She knew it was still there, she could feel it, as if the very air was shifting before it as it moved forward, coming closer to where she lay frozen on the ground.

"Please, please" she sobbed, not knowing if she were speaking to the creature, or to the gods themselves. "Please, don't, just please -".

"I make good on my promises, Jane Foster" came a smooth but deadly voice directly in front of her. She jumped at the proximity of the cold sound.

"Who are you?" she whispered into the darkness. "How did you know I was here?"

The thing seemed to laugh softly to itself and when it next spoke she could swear it was smiling. "I always know, Jane Foster. I know everything". The voice suddenly turned malicious, spitting out the last word so that she cringed away from it.

She screamed again as something gripped the back of her head, preventing her from moving away. Despite the darkness, she shut her eyes, willing the thing to go away, to leave her alone. What did he even mean, how could he know everything? And, - oh.

Oh God.

"Loki?" she whispered into the night, hoping beyond hope that he would answer in the negative. Surely this was just one of his minions, a frightening one, but at least that would be better than the God of Mischief himself. Instead he merely laughed again, his emotions changing with every heartbeat and Jane felt her skin grow cold.

"My reputation precedes me I see" he said, his fingers twisting in her hair painfully.

"What do you want with me? Thor, he's - he's-"

"-dead, yes I know".

Jane once again cringed away from him, from that word. It was so cold, so hard. Once more though the fingers stilled her, their touch causing lances of pain through her skull.

"Then why are you here?"

"Like I said, I keep my promises," his voice rolled smoothly, and she could feel, rather than see, his eyes bearing down on her. "You will come with me now".

"What? No!" she cried out suddenly, fighting against the hand that was holding her in place. Her arms caught at heavy plate as she lashed forward, the force of her own impact reaching through her bones.

"Stop with this incessant squirming, it's pathetic" he said coldly, pinning down her ankles with his other hand, preempting the kick that she had planned to land on him. She made a move to grab at his hand whilst was still entwined painfully in her hair, and not being able to move it in the slightest dug her nails into his flesh instead.

"Enough!" he hissed. "You are tiring my patience Miss Foster."

How, she wanted to ask, how can I know even now in the darkness that you hate me so much that it radiates from you in waves, know that his eyes still staring down at her from where he was obviously crouched before her. His hand suddenly moved to her neck, his fingers locating the base of her skull.

"Sleep now, and sleep well, for I have much in store for you little one".

Her last recollection was of falling forward into the man whose face she still had not seen, before she lost consciousness entirely.

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A/N

The fruits of one's labours are likely to shrivel up without a good watering of reviews and knowledge that one's readers do care. Therefore, any comments are gratefully received.

On a side note, not much Loki in this chapter (for which I apologise), but much more Loki goodness (or badness *rubs hands together*) to follow!