The sound of a door slamming echo through the house, shattering the amiable silence that they have been languishing in. Loki looked up from his book and out into the hall, though he didn't expect to see much. The sound had come from downstairs, too far to have naturally carried to where they were two floors up. Magic had to be involved and it was worrying sign that it was being used purely to carrying the warning of someone's irritation.

Lorelei closed her a book with a sigh, sitting up from where she was lounging on the floor. "She's angry."

"She's always angry," Loki answered, eyes drifting down to his book. "We should stop letting her go out."

Lorelei leaned back on her hands, legs crossed at the ankles. "It's going to be our problem." She said with heavy resignation.

"I am in no hurry for that to become true," he said.

It seemed that Lorelei was not either. She remained relaxed on the floor, but she didn't pick up her book again. She was resigned, waiting. She shouldn't be. It wasn't even like she had much to worry about. Whatever Amora's grievance was, she was most likely to come to Loki to deal with it.

The goddess of love was a complete hassle.

Amora waited a grand total of ten minutes before coming to them. During that time, Loki could only imagine she broke everything in the house based on the noise. He heard clunks and clatters, slamming doors, broken glass, and stomping feet. As expected, her eyes were blazing with anger when she arrived.

"What's wrong?" Lorelei asked because Loki wasn't going to.

"Mortals!" Amora hissed and Loki closed his book. Loki knew that this wouldn't be dismissed swiftly. It never was when she took issue with the mortals.

"What offense have they made now?" Lorelei asked with exasperation. Amora ignored her tone or else was too angry to noticed.

"They had the audacity to choose one of their own petty peons to worship in my stead!" Amora yelled. "To claim a mortal is more beautiful than myself!"

Ah, the most severe offense, Loki thought, a vanity blow. Well, no need to remind her that she wasn't the goddess of beauty. She had long convinced herself that she was just that.

"So what do you plan to do about it, Amora?" Loki finally asked.

Amora turned to face him with eyes blazing, glowing green with anger and magic. "Your mischief works best here, Loki. Make her fall in love with the most hideously appalling creature you can find."

"Why should I do your dirty work?" Loki questioned, already knowing that he would but wanting to be contrary about it.

"Because if I go, I may very well slaughter every mortal clustered around her in a ten mile radius." She clenched her fist, flames leaping up between her fingers.

"And," Lorelei added, "You actually have a modicum of self restraint. Unlike Amora."

Truth. All true. This was the reason that Loki was often sent to handle Amora's rages. It was a way of showing mercy to the mortals, an attempt to reign in Amora's vast amount of pettiness and easy to rouse fury.

Loki stood up. "Tell me who she is."

Darcy was exceedingly bored. She sat in front of her vanity mirror, staring into her own bored eyes as she suffered her mother tugging her hair. "Oh, Darcy, you could put the gods to shame." She said, for what was surely eight millionth time of Darcy's life. Darcy remained silent. She had long ago stopped responding to such statements. She tired of wasting her breath on them when the statements would come regardless.

Her sole indulgence to her mother was letting her braid flowers and gems into Darcy's hair. Flowers that were constantly delivered by men wanting win her favor and gems that she was gifted by boys hoping to court her. Her room had long since gotten crowded and this was an easy way to cycle the gifts out. Her mother always had a fit if she tried to simply throw them out.

Her indulgence to her father was keeping her manners, and more importantly her temper, in check when hordes of would-be suitors crowded her for attention. Her father wanted her to one day marry. She was in no way pressed for options, but it still wouldn't due to kill them all before that.

It was unbelievably tiresome having everyone around her saying the same things and behaving in the same way day in and day out. No matter what she did or where she went, very little praises flowed from people's lips as constant as a sun rise. Gifts appeared in her room more frequently than they did at the temples. Flowers had been laid at her feet as if she was too good to walk on the unadorned ground.

It was madness! No one but Darcy seemed to realize it though. Her father claimed that it was her due, no doubt too pleased by how the trinkets given to her could help fill the royal coffers. Her mother insisted it was her destiny and thrilled in the attention as if it were her own instead of her daughter's. Jane had informed her many a time that it was her burden to bear the weight of glory the kingdom was due.

It was all so tedious!

"All done, love." Her mother smiled as she brushed aside a few lose strands of hair, admiring and preening all at once. "Aren't you a lovely sight to behold." It should have been a question, but it wasn't. Not at all.

Darcy sighed. If she wasn't careful, this stage of admiration could last another hour. "May I go now, mother?"

Her mother cupped Darcy's cheek with one hand, eyes trailing over her appearance once more. "Whatever you like, dear."

Darcy slid away from her mother's touch quickly. "Thank you." She attempted to keep the exasperation out of her voice. She wasn't certain that she succeeded, but she fled before she could tell one way or the other. It was too much to be doted on every hour of ever day. Darcy was getting sick of it. Had gotten sick of it.

"I wish something exciting would happen," She muttered to herself as she walked out into the palace gardens. Surely that wasn't too much to ask for?

"Something exciting," Loki repeated with a grin. He was sitting above her in the trees, his bow resting across his lap and spinning one of his arrows in his left hand. "Well I have a surprise for you!"

As if beckoned by his voice, Darcy looked up. Loki was startled to find that the mortals had actually gotten something right. The girl was unaccountably beautiful. Loki tried to get a grip on his arrow, yelping in surprise when his hand closed around the arrowhead. Glancing back down at the princess, he could feel the magic in the arrow wrapping around his heart, pulling him toward her.

"Oh, no..." He muttered to himself.