First Roll of Thunder That Brings the Storm Ch 3

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"Lose your companions?" Loki's smile was friendlier than Steve had ever seen it. Standing in the middle of a swarm of people dressed in scarves and thick jackets, Loki looked out of place in his thin armor and billowing green cape.

"Not really," Steve responded. "Tony went to get another drink, Thor's talking with strangers, Clint and Bruce are God knows where, and Natasha's showing that kid over there the proper way to hold a pistol, which probably isn't a really good idea, but she's having a good time, so I'm not going to stop her."

Together, Loki and Steve wandered through the crowd, enjoying the sounds of conversation and air of joy around them.

The cold air didn't bother them. Steve shivered once, but his suit was thermal and warm. Loki, as Thor explained long ago, was a Frost Giant and knew nothing of cold. He practically glowed like a sun, looking happier than Steve could ever recall seeing him before. He was smiling, but it wasn't mocking or wicked in any way. And he thought that Loki looked really handsome when he smiled; it made him blush a bit. Steve imagined Tony finding out that he'd been thinking Loki looked good; he chuckled.

"Do you find something entertaining?" Loki asked.

"Not really."

Loki tilted his head to the side. "Keeping secrets is not a wise habit to adopt, Captain Rogers. You had best remember that."

"I'll try," Steve said.

Their wanderings eventually took them near the dance floor, wide and empty. Loki glanced at it, a glimmer of mischief leaking into his expression. "Do you know how to dance, Captain?" he asked.

The question was a low blow, but Steve was aware that Loki knew nothing of it, so he forced a tiny grin and answered, "Not really."

His eyes widened when Loki suddenly seized his wrist and dragged him onto the dance floor; he tried to yank his arm free, but Loki laughed at his attempts to escape. "Calm yourself, Rogers. On Asgard, I was one of the best dancers there was. Now, watch carefully, and try to keep up." And with a sparkling white grin, Loki twirled around, encouraged by the loud cheers coming from the crowd.



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Lorelei was not happy in the least.

She watched them, the prince of Asgard and the human, from a safe distance. They were deep in conversation with each other, far too preoccupied to notice her staring.

She recognized the human instantly. Captain America, Steven Rogers, the leader of the Avengers and one of the good friends of the man who held her heart in his palm without ever being aware of it.

But the presence of Captain Rogers wasn't the worst of it. The most aching part was seeing Loki beside him, smiling as he seized the mortal's wrist and dragged him to the dance floor amongst the crowd of mortals.

Lorelei felt something she hadn't felt in a long while.

Jealousy.

Her insides felt as if they'd been hollowed out by the claws of some Frost Giant. Detached from her body, she watched the mortal and Loki dance together.

Captain Rogers was no dancer, but Loki knew how to move. He knew how to position his body at all the right angles, and he managed to maintain an air of elegance even among the throng of tiny mortals that hopped onto the dance floor the very same moment Captain Rogers and Loki came into view.

"Disgusting," Lorelei muttered, her gaze drifting to Captain Rogers.

Her heart seized in her chest, painfully. Every hope of happiness inside her vanished. She had known all along that Loki would never belong to her—that he desired no one except his brother—but she had always dreamed.

Looking down at him now, she realized that he would never be hers. His happiness was here in a world of mortals, in a world where his brother was. His joy came from a world where there were creatures much more powerful than she was.

Not for long.

Lorelei turned, unnoticed, and pushed her way viciously into the crowd of pathetic mortals, who by now had noticed Loki and Captain Rogers dancing in the center of the Square. Their attention was on them—not on her. Never on her.


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Lorelei was not just another mortal. She had surrendered her status as a minor goddess centuries ago and settled for being a mere sorceress, but she knew her way around a trick or two. And this would be no different.

Thor wasn't paying attention at all to her. She appeared as just another mortal woman, trudging in a puffy coat and a thick, scratchy scarf. He wouldn't recognize her, wouldn't notice her.

It was a simple trick, one she used many times in the past. At night, in a crowd filled with people, it was as good as being invisible.

None of the mortals noticed her either. The mumbling of voices and the buzz of noise from music players drowned out the crackle of magic on her fingertips.

She saw it. Resting around Thor's neck was the Norn Stone—a large blue gem set in a tiny marble base, hanging from his throat like a medallion. It winked at Lorelei mockingly, daring her to try and snatch it away.

But what would have been a challenge for most was child's play for Lorelei. She closed her eyes and concentrated. How simple it would be to swap the Norn Stone for another object and disguise it to look like the Stone.

She already had the perfect item in mind—Captain America's dog tag. It was such a small and insignificant object, no one would ever think of it.

The spell took her less than a moment. Between one eye blink and the next, the Norn Stone was in her hand, and the dog tag was around Thor's throat, illusioned to look like the Stone.

The trick might fool most, but probably not Loki, and Lorelei couldn't take that chance. She probed the real Stone in her hand with her magical senses.

It felt heavy. Far heavier than it should. Even though she knew its mass and could carry it around without difficulty, it gave the impression of immense weight, of creations mortals could never and would never comprehend.

That was unsettling, but her illusions were up to the task. She laid another spell on the false Stone around Thor's throat, carefully twisting it to manipulate the impressions of the true item. When she finished, she was certain that it could withstand anything but the deepest inspection by Loki, and she wondered, Would he really take the time to check it? No, I have nothing to worry about. No one will notice.

Her prize firmly in her grasp, she turned to leave the crowd. She paused for only a moment before she ran away, pushing through people who grumbled but didn't otherwise pursue. One single thought permeated her mind. I'm sorry, Loki.

Less than an hour later Lorelei was on her way out of New York City, as far away as she could get on foot. She tried convincing herself that she was elated, thrilled with her theft and the untold power the Norn Stone in her pocket promised.

A powerful artifact, Loki had called it long ago in his years as a villain, perhaps one of the most powerful in all the Nine Realms.

And it was hers.

She tried to imagine the glory and adulation she would soon win, with the power of the Stone augmenting her own magic. Who knew how great she might become? Who knew what heights she could conquer with its aid?

But for some reason her thoughts always returned to a single point: a smiling, pale face against the starless nights of New York City. Someone she used to know.

She did her best to push those thoughts out of her head. It was late, and she imagined she would need her strength in hours to come, so she closed her eyes and tried to sleep somewhere remote, out of the way. The area she chose was an empty park far from the city, so her restless dreaming disturbed no one.


To Be Continued...