Chapter 1
The assumption that opposites should exist has always been accepted as an axiom. It's by this principle that a belief is formed that, when brought together or by existing in the same plane, these opposites should ascertain balance. But Frigga, the queen, baffled by the unlike alliance, believed it would bring nothing but more unruliness.
The door was opened ajar, offering her the chance to gaze at the odd pair through a small crack. Each one was everything the other was not. The girl was almost clumsy in her boldness; straightforward and quick-tongued, she strolled, too curious to stop herself from touching every object and voicing every thought. And Loki, her lost son, was then brooding, always cunning and plotting, an intrigue always the lone temptress of his spirit.
The trickster god and the mortal girl were to remain in the room until a decision was reached by the Allfather and the council. Even the queen thought it unfair to judge the girl by association instead of listening to her side of the story. She saw no malice in her, only recklessness and an upfront attitude, but she was innocent, her ways not of one that sought to conceal hidden intentions.
The queen nodded, and the guards pulled at the heavy doors, leaving the god and the mortal alone once more.
"Not yet on my bucket list, but if it was, I'll say it would pretty high: 'Not causing a freaking family feud between gods'," Darcy said, putting on a fake smile. "I would appreciate it, next time, if you just refrained from dragging my ass into another dimension only so I could get under divine arrest."
"And you would do good to remain silent in Odin's presence," he let her know casually.
"Jesus, Loki! Do you seriously not see what you did wrong?" she shouted, pressing her fingers on her temples. "You kidnapped me! You do know what that means, don't you? It's when you take someone against their will. There." At his lack of response, Darcy sighed, resigned, and went to sit on the stairs by his side.
Something else had caught her attention. Darcy noted they were in the same room that had served as location for her previous dream. Meaning: he had been part of it. She couldn't have dreamt - not with so many details – of something she hadn't seen before. She felt her face getting hot, and hoped that he wouldn't mention it like he did some times in the past; the sole mention of her blushing would result in the pink becoming a deep red. Well, that time she had been willing, she would not deny that.
And she kept amazing herself by forgetting he could actually read her mind like a book. And that was so not the right time for thinking about wet dreams. She didn't want to give off the wrong signals. Abduction was bad; she needed to be angry and/or sad, not horny.
"You are frightened," he said, mistaking the intention behind her widening eyes. He had stopped reading her mind; he found that guessing was, if anything, more entertaining.
Very aware that he could guess the real reason behind her fidgeting, she tensed, and looked straight ahead, not able to take off her eyes off the gigantic bed. "Right now? No, just really pissed."
And, even when Darcy was smiling, seemingly resigned and accepting, her words had angered him. "You are in no position to be angry," he said. "You confound me. You pled for your life, and now you refuse to pay the price."
"When you're facing eternal incarceration, life just doesn't sound so good anymore, Loki," she said, forcing an even huger grin. Truth to be told, his talking angry in her ear did nothing to lessen the flush.
Tired of her apparent display of indifference, he leaned forward, wanting to torment her, and whispered, "You wish me to undone my will then." His breath had but ruffled her hair, revealing a pale path on the back of her neck, but he smiled, triumphant, at the goose bumps that formed on her skin. She squirmed, stiffed and straightened in a poor spectacle of courage. "Are you asking me, a god, to revert my actions and end your life? You want to perish by my hands, is that what you wish for? Are you so bold to claim such a favor, mortal?" Darcy jerked at the mention of the label. "Your life, every breath you take, is but a gift I concede you, and I find offense in your desire to return it." He raised one hand, his index finger in a straight line, wanting to trace it down her spine.
"Still," she said, standing up, escaping his touch without planning it, "coming here wasn't my idea. You could have, I don't know, asked me first?" Despite being annoyed by his arrogance, she perfectly understood the meaning behind his words. He didn't mean it as a threat, just a reminder, as always, that she should be resigned to spend the rest of her life being grateful to him. And she was scared; the idea of being left alone to fight against an unknown darkness creeping inside her, making a house of her flesh, was very, very frightening. She wasn't sure of the intentions behind Loki's actions, but she internally sighed with relief when he decided to act rashly and take her.
"Are you aware?" he suddenly asked.
"Aware of what?"
"Aware of her power acting upon you," he concluded rather harshly.
"Oh, that. Yes," Darcy confessed, mildly conscious that he did take a peek that time to find out the reason behind her abstraction.
She walked to a desk positioned by the window. Every surface had gathered dust, and, when she moved a volume resting on the desk, the wood was revealed to be untarnished and shiny underneath. The room had remained untouched for a long time, inhabited and forgotten, perhaps a memorial to cherish or to avoid, the monument to a betrayer or just plain living history. She felt an overwhelming melancholy in knowing with what ease they could just cast Loki out. She could suffer for him, while he wanted nothing but dwell in the satisfaction of a well-executed revenge.
She sat by the desk, opening the heavy volume to stare at the strange inscriptions. She caught, in the corner of her eye, Loki standing up, making no sound as he walked to the bed and removed the heavy vest. He looked younger without the bulkiness; covered only in dark and emerald tones, his figure was long and elegant, almost catlike when he walked. And she wanted to turn around and look at him, not remember him from the fuzzy perspective of a dream; she wanted to focus on the reality of him.
"You guys would love Las Vegas," Darcy said to break the silence, wake herself from a daydream. "Lots of gold there, too, though, I think, you guys might've taken it a little bit overboard." She glanced around the huge chamber. "And," she added sheepishly, "somehow, it seems like the perfect place for someone like you: The God of Mischief in Sin City."
Darcy had her eyes gaze glued to the page, unmoving, when she noticed his approaching. She lowered her head, almost pressing her nose against the pages so, when he put a hand on her shoulder, he wouldn't notice how she closed her eyes and let out a soft sigh. And his palm was warm as if he had exposed it to a nice fire. She leaned to the touch, knowing what was to come, but too compelled to do anything to fight it. He didn't move his hand, letting the tips of the fingers press on her collarbone, but the warmth spread downwards and, like heavy molasses rolling down her skin, it slowly descended to envelop her. It started with her willingness, but she acknowledged the symptoms of his spell exacerbating the small spark that she ignited.
Loki pushed the book, sweeping a trail of dust with it, and threw it on the floor. He sat on the edge of the desk, and his hands came to encircle her waist to make her stand between his legs. Still with his sitting, she stood shorter by him.
He took in her manner of dress. She was clad in a light summer dress of empire silhouette; the curves of her hips and outlines of her thighs showed through the white fabric. And it was modest, by Midgardian standards, even when he could perfectly see the underline of her undergarments.
"I wish to prove a theory," he said, putting both hands on her upper arms.
Darcy shook her head, wanting to fight off the numbness of his spell. She wanted to escape, and so she leaned away, her back arching to grant her some space between them.
"No, no," he implored in a whisper, grasping her chin. He gave her a swift kiss, barely nibbling down on her bottom lip to erase her pout. "I want you to speak the truth, yes?" he said, backing away. He was satisfied to see her face relaxing, and gave her a quick peck on the lips this time as reward.
Angry and embarrassed, a flush crept up her neckline and reached her face. "Hurry up then, asshole," she said lowly, his tongue feeling like dead weight and her lips swollen like she had been drinking liquor for hours.
He chuckled, his tongue pressed between his teeth in a wicked smile. "It is rather a matter of a more intimate nature," he said with a childlike and mischievous confidence, pushing her forward to have her walk on legs that were handicapped by the heaviness of his spell.
She felt her limbs respond with clumsiness, moving as one of those characters from creepy stop motion movies, but his grin widened as she approached, until the front of her legs touched the inside of his thighs, and he had to hold her neck to avoid her head from flopping back.
There was a tingling warmth in the numbness, one that soothed her, and she wanted to tell him it was better to keep her that way, otherwise she would have done something. And then it clicked; she realized he did it to play with her. It was a way to torture her, to bind her because he knew she wanted this as bad – if not worse than him. She knew it had to do with his magic. It was not okay to feel the way she felt sometimes; it was no longer a need, but it would escalate to pain.
Also, there was that other matter. Darcy felt it was almost natural to stay hours and hours next to him, when she had always been the one who would tire of people and push them away. In each other's company, they were able to stand in perfect silence without feeling uncomfortable. And then, when they touched, even when they bodies happened to brush against each other, the air between them would turn into electricity and everything they had tried to tame would unleash.
It was then that they were interrupted by the door being opened.
"A word, brother," Thor said, standing in the frame.
Darcy had never seen someone's expression go from blissful to murderous so quickly. She wanted to laugh, but her tongue still felt like a dead slug inside her mouth.
"Your timing is most unfortunate," Loki said, staring into the girl's eyes, feeling as if something like magnetism stopped him from looking away.
"It is Darcy whom I wish to speak to, Loki," Thor clarified.
"Then do so, by all means."
"Alone."
Loki sighed, putting one palm against his forehead.
Darcy felt the weight of the spell leave her, but she remained still, feeling the frustration and anger return, fill her like water breaking through a dam. So still was she, in fact, she was quivering. He sensed her gathering her courage, pushing away reason to punch him in the chest. Loki even stepped back at the impact, granting her the satisfaction of a small victory. She punched him again, hating how he showed no signs of being in pain. He laughed at his stubborn efforts all the same.
"I doubt yours is half this spirited," Loki said as he walked outside, bumping his shoulder against Thor's.
"That's far enough," Thor said, signaling to the guards to keep an eye on his brother.
Loki raised both palms, and hung his head as he walked backwards, obeying the command of the God of Thunder.
"Has my brother mentioned the reason why he took you here, Darcy?" Thor stood at the side of the desk.
Darcy sat down again, shaking her head. "Nope," she lied out of impulse. Somehow, telling Thor he knew Loki had taken her because there was no other choice felt like giving him away. If he had left her behind, she would have lost her mind. It was that simple. "I was hoping he did it to help me, but this is Loki we are talking about. There's a big chance he only did it to screw with that head of yours."
"But he shared with you the existence of a bond?"
"No." She wanted to know, and how she wanted an explanation, but she didn't want to hear it from Thor. "Look, I know it must be really important, but let's just not, okay?" She pinched her nose for a second, closing her eyes, faking a headache. Thor scowled at her refusal. "Just, listen, I'm sure he did something strange to save me, like he probably had to jump-start my ass with Frankenstein juice and whatnot, but let's just leave it at that. We can't go back now, so why don't we do our best to work with what we have right now? Mainly, me being alive and not wanting to be tossed into the eternal flames of some shithole pit that belongs to the goddess of death."
"Uh, yes." Thor's scowl deepened, and he lost all eloquence for half a minute. "He attempted not only to… uh," he paused, wanting to rephrase her statement, "revive you by using magic. He used his own life force."
"There you have it, there you go. More hocus pocus shit. Oooh." She raised both palms, faking a panic attack. "What's your point, Goldilocks?" She wanted to end the conversation, but there was a small part of her that wanted to finally know, and it was really nagging at her.
"Loki is one of the most powerful masters of magic in all the nine realms, but he is incapable of reading minds, Darcy, and it has been long hence, since that day he was imprisoned in that glass cage, that I witnessed him able to read your thoughts." Even without his hammer, Thor gestured with his fist in the air like he was blandishing it.
Darcy grew serious. "Okay, see? That's exactly why I didn't want you telling me anything. Now I'm freaking out. Too many people inside me, and I'm not really okay with that." Lies. She was very okay with Loki being inside her, in any sense of the word. They belonged to one another, when neither of them belonged anywhere else.
"But you are able to be inside him as well, Darcy Lewis." She stifled a laugh at this. "You are also capable of entering his mind."
"Nope, I don't think I am." She crossed her arms, rather defiant; she wanted to piss off Thor for no good reason. "No, nevermind that. I don't think I want to."
Thor insisted, making even greater gestures, "But tis' truth, Darcy! Loki is a master in many things, the art of lying and disguising are his greatest talents. He has the ability to keep you out of his thoughts." Thor had sounded almost euphoric when voicing this truth, so it seemed he had come up with it all by himself; it was a shame Darcy didn't want to hear any of it. "There is a part of you that has merged and become one. That was the real price to pay for your life."
It gave her pause to finally hear it, but she raised her chin, proud and reluctant. "Well, what are you asking me to do? You want me to manipulate him into becoming one of the good guys?" She laughed mockingly. "Maybe we should start with trying to make him admit he was in the wrong when he attempted to conquer an entire planet. Baby steps, Thor, baby steps."
"I would be pleased to see a change in my brother, but you are not strong enough to guide him. And there is no time for you to muster that strength." Thor let his arms fall to his sides, calming himself. "You must have him break that bond," he said after a long pause.
And bleed inwardly, Darcy suddenly thought. She imagined that thread around her heart being tugged at until it snapped. The thread, as if made of fine gold, would cut her heart in two as if slicing butter. The memory of death came crashing down on her. Blood gushing out of gashes, red and red, so much red it was black, and black overtook her vision as she shakily exhaled dying breaths. She blinked, remembering Loki's blue eyes gazing upon her with disgust and irritation. She knew he was a hypocrite for still thinking her beneath him, but not denying himself the desire to kiss and hold her as if amazed by his good work. She had become his Pygmalion.
"Odin will act in your favor, Darcy," Thor continued, his words taking her back to reality, "but he won't tolerate scorn, tis' what Loki will try to embed in you. He will have you take his side and refuse the Allfather's help."
"Your dad has made it perfectly clear he doesn't want me here." Now Darcy was confused. "What makes you think he wants to help me?"
"You must renounce this alliance with my brother, and show the Allfather your motives are not against his wishes." Darcy said nothing, but Thor was bent on making her see the plain truth, one that was so glaringly obvious; he was made angry by looking at the girl's skeptical expression. "Loki won't renounce you."
"Oh, I see." Darcy stood up. She had had it with Thor and Loki reminding her of her own weakness and uselessness every single chance they got; she was done with their condescending attitude, and no one was telling her what to do, not even the mighty Thor. "So you just want me out of the picture. I know you think since I'm not strong enough to change him, then I'm definitely a bad influence. I'm sorry if I don't feel in the mood for one your speeches right now, Thor, but I'm pretty shaken myself. Everyone seems calm and okay, and don't you get it? I have no idea what's gonna happen to me. I don't know what your dad's going to decide, and it's not like I have a chance to appeal." She widened her eyes so much Thor actually took a step back, all too scared by her increasing anger. "I didn't ask for this. I'm terrified and the last thing on my mind right now is this bond or whatever I have with Loki. All I want is my old, boring life, and Loki, well, he's the only one who seems willing to help me get that. I know it must sound insane to you, but I have to trust him."
"I love my brother." Thor squared his shoulders, and leaned forward, trying to intimidate her as she had done so. "I believe in his redemption, and I rejoice in the hopes that the hour shall come when he sheds all the hate and becomes as he once was, but I would be a fool if I were to lay down my weapons and trust him blindly. You must, too, have a defense against his trickery, for he will use your innocence against you. Know this, he never acts without a purpose, and it would come a day when you are either prepared for deception or you become the victim."
Thor wasn't helping the situation. His little sermon was just making her angrier. She decided to hit low. "You must think us humans really helpless. Are you really planning on marrying Jane? What does daddy has to say?"
"Jane must complete an ordeal, one given to her by the Allfather." Thor scowled, letting his guard down, distracted by the sudden change of topic.
"A test by immortals," Darcy exclaimed, smiling. "That's just so doable. So you're saying you're putting Jane, the woman you supposedly love, through some holy hell so she can prove she is worthy to marry you. Why, Thor, tell me why should I turn my back on Loki and expect the help of someone who can't even overlook the fact that his son's future wife is a mortal? If your dad won't cut Jane some slack, then I don't think he'd be all that willing to help me, the other mortal girl who's banging his evil son."
"The Allfather's judgment is impeccable and impartial. Do not attempt to dishonor him with your presumptions and surmises."
"Why would she need to take a test, Thor?" She insisted, happy to see him as angry as she was. "She is a person, not some dog you're going to adopt."
"I see the seed of my brother's chaos has taken root in you, Darcy Lewis. You relish in sowing discord. Heed my words." He raised his index finger. "You must part with him. Sever the bond before it grows stronger."
"Why?" she breathed out, shaking her head. "He's the only one who has gone out of his way to keep me well and alive."
"He shouldn't have done so!" Thor roared, making Darcy jump. He sighed then, slouching. He continued in a more gentle voice, "Loki has tricked even those older than Odin himself, and you think yourself capable of seeing through his lies? You will fall prey to him."
"Maybe, but at least I'm pretty clear where I stand on this mess, so how about you drop the macho attitude and deal with the fact that Loki and I are on the same boat?"
"So be it," Thor said, and left the room.
"Well?" Frigga asked once she saw Thor leave the room.
Thor didn't stop, instead he stomped away. The queen quickly scampered to catch up with him. "She refuses to see reason, mother. Her loyalty to Loki is steadfast."
"But of course," the queen agreed, smiling. "It was you who told me Loki saved this girl's life. She should be loyal."
"Yes, but at what cost?" Thor stopped in his tracks, quickly pushing out a sigh. "Loki will use this, mother. He cares not for her, I know it. He will take advantage of her humanity and use her against me and Jane."
"Now, why would he care so much for an alliance that has not taken place yet? Loki is one to hold a grudge, I see that now, but it does not seem likely that he would recur to the same tactic twice. The plan to hurt the mortal failed. He will move onto other things." She put one hand on Thor's shoulder, but he quickly shook away from the touch.
"As you wish me to, mother?"
"Thor, it is not like that," she insisted, looking at him affectionately. "You must understand. She must be tested. This is unheard of, son. Surely, you can comprehend the gift of immortality and the burden of the throne of Asgard is not something anyone can bear. It is no easy task for a god. Just imagine we must accustom ourselves to the idea that a mortal woman should possess the strength required to lead and care for us all."
Thor's gaze fell. "What would happen if Loki decides to marry her? Would she also have to be tested?"
Frigga let out a laugh of skepticism, dismissing the whole thing as ridiculous. "Have faith in your father, Thor," she said in an encouraging tone. "He would never allow such a union. The bond will be broken and the girl shall return to Earth, her time with him forgotten. Loki will not weep over this, if you are right."
"No, but he is capable of so many just to oppose father. To marry a mortal just to defy him, I know him capable of going that far."
"Loki is to face punishment," she said, resigned. "All will be well, you will see."
Alone once more, Loki stood by the doors as they closed behind him. Darcy walked the great distance from the desk to the bed, and sat on the mattress. He did the same thing. They sat side by side, thighs touching in a parallel line. So they became accomplices again.
"That was one interesting talk," she said.
Loki snorted. "I doubt anything Thor may say can be considered remotely interesting."
"Don't act like it doesn't annoy you when he acts all, like, you know, high and mighty. High and mighty, my ass." She rolled her eyes.
"Certainly," said Loki, straining his neck to stare at her lower back.
"Stoppit," she complained, slapping him slightly on the arm. "How and why Jane ever fell for him, I'll never know." The mention of her once dear friend filled her with a strange and nostalgic feeling, almost a void in her chest. "So," she quickly steered the conversation to the next topic, "how about that test, huh? The one your dad is putting Jane through. Sounds like a lot of bureaucratic bull. Customs might learn one thing or two from your dad."
"He is not my father." Again, Loki felt Darcy's amnesia must be resurfacing; half their chats consisted in him repeating the same things once and again. "And, yes, it is not secret to anyone Odin is against the union of his precious heir to a mortal."
"Yes, thank you!" Darcy threw both hands in the air. "Even I could see it, and I've been around the guy for, like, half a minute. Thor is so blind. This is obviously snobby dad trying to avoid his son from marrying the girl from the wrong side of the tracks."
"You become more incomprehensible with each hour that passes. I wonder whether losing your memories was not a cure and we should strive to perpetuate this condition instead."
"You are such a d-bag, Loki. That's one thing I'll never forget," she said in a sweet tone, patting him on the shoulder. "What is this test about anyway?"
He smiled wickedly. "A test impossible for a mortal to complete, of course. Even if your pathetic friend does succeed, Odin will have her tried once and again. He won't give up Thor so easily. He won't give up Asgard to a mortal."
"Can you help her?" Darcy asked lowly, playing with the hem of her dress.
"Why would I?"
"She is my friend," she muttered, trying to subdue another fit of anger. "I don't want her to get hurt, or to die."
"She won't die," Loki said, squinting, confused at her stubborn attempts to nurture a relation for which Darcy cared so little anymore. Her affections had been erased along with her memory, and this show that she decided to put on, he knew it was because she didn't want to relinquish her humanity by ignoring a flame that was long gone ashes. To completely let go of her friends would mean Darcy cared for no one except for Loki, and what a disgrace that would mean to this insufferably sentimental girl. "She will fail," he continued, "and it will be as if nothing ever happened. Odin will show her some mercy yet."
"What do you mean?"
"I meant that," he said, already tired of explaining what for him was obvious, "when she fails, she will be tossed back to Midgard, her memories of her time spent with Thor erased."
Darcy felt a cold crept up her lungs. Her eyes fluttered as she tried to swallow the discomfort. She wouldn't wish that on anyone. "You can't let them do that."
"Oh, but I think I can." He lowered his voice to a murmur, that grin twitching the corner of his mouth. "And I shall enjoy it, watching Thor squirm and crawl."
"I don't care what happens to Thor," she cried, shaking her head. "I don't want Jane hurt. I want her out of this."
"You should really learn not to ask anything of me." He raised his hand to place it on her back, but stopped, letting the fingers curl inwards.
"You're the cruelest asshole I'll ever know, Loki," she said, straightening down the skirt of her dress with too much force.
"Oh, but I saved your life."
"Did you?" She closed her eyes, and clicked her tongue, as in trying really hard to remember. "It does sound like something you did, but I'm not so sure. Maybe you should remind me of it another eighty times."
Loki snarled, looking to the side.
Darcy decided it was as a good time as any to address this doubt that kept bouncing back, no matter how many times she tried to push it away. She found that every time she thought of it, having them fell in a silence, the echo of their words still throbbing in her mind, she felt small and disconnected in some way, like she was nothing, but a pest that needed to die.
"Am I myself?" Darcy asked in a whisper, choosing honesty when everything in her told her to shield her feelings from the God of Lies. "I know I must sound crazy, but I… how can I know if I'm myself if I don't remember the old me?"
"You ignore how lucky is that you have forgotten your past, that it won't influence any course of action that you decide to take from now on. Your decisions won't be truncated by any sense of belonging, except, perhaps, by your own humanity." He snorted with an almost expression of disgust. "I should speak of your foolishness instead."
"See? This is what I mean when I say you are an asshole."
Loki brushed both hands down his face as he raised his chin; the fingers came to a halt when they reached the jawline. The dark spots under his eyes were almost a deep purple. "But if it concerns you so much, know that I did nothing to alter your character, or what you humans refer to as 'personality'."
"How can you tell? You didn't know me before this whole mess."
Loki lifted his eyebrows, and blinked slowly, really struggling with the fatigue. "I think I can assess my own powers to do my exact bidding. Quite different from your ability – or lack of it - to shape your ideas into words, but have them pass through your lips as…" He stopped, raising his fingers to her mouth.
"Stop it." Darcy flinched away from the touch. "You stop it with your sexual seduction business, mister. I know what you're trying to do. You put your hands all over me and I feel all fuzzy and warm. I'm having you know I'm not giving them any excuse to kick my ass back to Hel." She crossed her arms, turning her back to him.
"They don't have to know." He had his hands hover above her shoulders. His gaze was fixed intently on the straps of her dress and bra; he wanted to hook his thumb around them and pull them down to her elbows, expose her back, and press his cheek against her skin, listen to her heartbeat raise. "I will take you slowly." He noticed her shoulders raise, her figure become still as her breath caught. He brought a hand forward, letting it land slowly on her thigh just above the knee. Her muscles tensed under the touch, and she tensed, grasping the sheets, just to avoid moving at all. "I won't make you repress it, this ache," he said with anger, his nose wrinkling, "this-this need that burns you from the inside out." And, as if he had invoked it, her blood pumped faster and her skin became unbearably hot. She took one bundle of the front of her dress, her fist closing tightly, and she pulled, letting the cool air in. It wouldn't take her long to give in.
"No," she said, but did nothing to remove his hand on her. "It's not us. It's this stupid bond." Her voice rose, high-pitched, and she swallowed, feeling her throat closing in. "It feels as if we have to be…" her mouth closed and opened several times, "one," she concluded, out of breath.
"I will tell you a secret." He moved his hand, slowly slipping his fingers between her closed legs, plunging them up to his knuckles. She looked to the side, mouth opening at his nerve; he looked at her profile, his eyes caught in the curves of her lips as he moved his hand upwards, slowly, sensing the flesh becoming hotter as he neared his goal. "This is no magic. Do not believe his words. He only tries to draw reason from something that is chaotic." The side of his index finger came in contact with her underwear, and Darcy let out a shuddering moan, and clutched at his wrist with both hands. She became rigid, but then let go, settling her own hands back on the bed. "They will deny it, because they do not think it possible. They fight for forbearance, and reject their impulses. They are incapable of simply letting go," he whispered in her ear, and pressed his finger against her mound, smiling, pleased to feel the moisture soak through the material.
"Stop it," Darcy snapped, standing, walking away, and brushing her hands up and down her arms. She paced incessantly, biting the tip of her thumb.
"So you continue to baffle me." Loki also stood up, but only made act of removing the metal of his attire, strip himself down to a long-sleeve shirt that clung tightly to his lean form. "Where is the advantage in resisting when you so obviously desire this? Would it gain you honor? Lying with a god could not be the worst of your mistakes."
"No, I guess you are right," she happily agreed, "but fucking the guy who declared war on my world is."
"It is not your world anymore," he snarled, and Darcy smiled, anticipating a good fight; it had been long since their last fight and she definitely needed to vent a little steam, and nothing worked better than to quarrel with the God of Lies. "You belong to Midgard no more. You lost your friends and family to one of Thor's many reckless acts. You do not belong here either. Your association with me will result, naturally, in every Asgardian casting you out. Death holds claim to you, and it was the mercy shown to you by me, the God of…"
"Spare me, Loki," Darcy interrupted him. "It's always the same with you. I seriously doubt you can know anything about pain and suffering when you were brought up as a privileged prince in a city made of gold, eating ambrosia and shitting diamonds. This is first-world problems at its finest." She put both fist in her hips, and puffed her chest, then, making her voice deeper, said: "Oh-oh, so Thor's my dad's favorite. I must go blow shit up then to prove myself above everyone else and they will proclaim me king of this universe. Logic fail. I thought you were supposed to be the brightest cookie in the bunch." She was aware that she was near screaming and the guards outside were having one hell of a field day.
Quickly, Loki marched towards her. Darcy ran to the desk, picking up the heavy book from the floor to hold it at arm's length, shielding herself with it. Loki saw her struggling with the weight of the volume, and his anger dissolved; he let out a sigh, turning around to sit on the bed.
Only when Loki collapsed, resting across the bed, she placed the book on the desk, but didn't move. He had his eyes closed, but she knew him too well to risk coming closer.
"I guess that was just uncalled for. I'm sorry," Darcy offered, showing her teeth in an apologetic grin. She leaned her weight from one foot to the other without moving from her spot next to the desk. "I know nothing about anything and you're probably right." She laughed, shrugging. "I don't have a home anymore. I lost all my friends and family, and the only chance I'll get to see them again is if your dad lets Thor marry Jane, but we both know that's impossible." She walked to the bed. Loki had his eyes open, looking at her. "All I'm asking you is not to piss off your dad so he can let me come back." He blinked in that artificial manner of his, and she grunted, knowing he was being apathetic to piss her off. "I don't want to spend the rest of my life rotting in some cell, alone, millions of miles away from everything."
Darcy put a knee on the mattress, and crawled to position herself by his side. She lay next to him, pressing her temple against his shoulder. Whenever they touched, he was always so warm, feverishly warm; his form was dense and solid, an immutable totem of safety. She marveled, having put a hand flat on his chest, at its rising and falling; somehow, she didn't think he needed to breathe at all.
"How long before we know?" she asked.
"I ignore it. The Allfather's punishments are meant to teach a lesson." His eyes fluttered closed as he spoke.
"So he's one of those. Can't believe you didn't try to act out and conquer stuff before." He laughed and her head bobbed with the movement.
"You should rest," he whispered, his lips barely moving.
"You are the one who can't even keep his eyes open."
"It has been what feels like centuries," he licked his lips, "since I last..." And, with that, Darcy felt his entire body become soft, his breathing slowing to an almost stop.
Darcy propped herself up in one arm to look at him, indignant that he could fall asleep in the middle of their very important conversation. His face, unmoving, it looked carved in wax. She pressed a finger to the tip of his nose, and pushed, flattening it as a pig's, and he didn't even stir. The Asgardian naps were the equivalent to a coma, apparently.
"Might as well." Darcy shrugged and, taking advantage of his state, rested her cheek on his chest. He didn't strike her as the kind of guy who would spoon in bed with anyone, but it wasn't as if he would mind; it didn't look as if he was breathing anymore. "I really hope you aren't turning into some kind of cocoon."
Knowing humans were in constant need of food - as Thor had confirmed when telling the tales of his days as a Midgardian - and in need of an excuse to talk to her son, the queen came by Loki's room again. She froze at the sight. The shock of seeing Loki lying with another, be it god or human, erased all thought from her mind. No, of course the girl's origins did put a weight on the impression. That was a human girl that was ruffling Loki's hair, chuckling as she did so.
Loki rested like he did in those days when he was no more than a child and would sleep on her lap, blissful and oblivious, peaceful, hate not twisting his fine features as it would gradually do each day that passed, as he became aware of the very reality: he was not to be crowned king. Oh, but he would always be her prince, the queen thought. She smiled, and the girl gasped in surprise, turning a pink that quite became her.
The mortal girl ignored, of course, and so did Thor, that Loki did communicate very little through his words. Though he was well known as having a 'silver tongue', he rarely spoke to express what he really felt or thought. His actions, silent and seemingly void of meaning to others, spoke volumes to her, being his mother. And the queen needed only gaze at the pieces of his armor scrambled on the floor. Loki slept at the complete mercy of this girl, unguarded and unprotected.
Darcy stopped immediately, hiding both hands behind her back. She forgot to breathe for a moment when she took notice of the queen; the room felt devoid of oxygen, actually. She couldn't find any words to describe the queen's graceful air and beauty; she was simply unreal.
"Your majesty," a guard whispered to her, wanting to get her attention, "a decision has been reached."
She hushed the guard, raising her finger to her lips. "Not now."
"It is imperative, my queen," the guard insisted.
"Isn't it always?" she asked, commanding for the doors to be closed once more.
Back from hell. Posting this as a shout-out for betas. I've written to several but they just don't answer. Y U NO WANT TO WORK WITH ME BETAS. As soon as I find one that wants to take on the job, hey, I'm posting the rest. I just really need an outside opinion. Really need it.
R&R~ Tell me what you think so far.