Author's Notes: So yeah...this is a first from this fandom from me (hope it doesn't completely suck). I just recently re-watched all the current movies (excluding Age of Ultron, Loki's not even in that one anyway) and I remembered that I really wished that Marvel Studios had done something with Loki and Darcy. This was supposed to be just a one-shot sort of thing, but then my muse decided to sprout wings and take off, so depending on how well this is received I'll be posting more chapters (I'll be writing it either way though). I'm happy to get constructive criticisms to help my writing improve, but please no nonsensical flames! I don't own Loki or Darcy (awesome as they are) or any other characters from any Marvel movie/comic universe.
Overture
Loki retired early from yet another dinner banquet held in the grand hall of Asgard's royal palace. Not because he was physically tired, but because his mind grew weary of his oaf of a brother's antics and how everyone seemed to find the stupidity endearing. Sure he loved Thor, just as much as—if not more than—anyone else in attendance, but there was only so much idiocy he could handle in one day. Then there was the added feeling of being so indescribably out of place. A feeling that's lingered with him since he was a boy and began learning magic.
Only their mother seemed to understand Loki's departure for as he made his way to pass her to leave the hall, she reached out to take his hand, silently asking if he was okay. Loki grasped her hand fondly and gave her the slightest inclination of his head to let her know not to fret before smoothly slipping his hand from hers, his departing gait never slowing.
True he wasn't tired, but he still found himself in his private chamber perusing his large bookcase for something to get his mind off of the unknown feelings that continued to rise more and more every time he noticed the growing distance between himself and his brother. He'd already read through his impressive library several times, he knew everything by heart by now. His hand immediately landed on one of his favorites, the book detailing Yggdrasil and all of the nine realms.
While Thor loved to boast loudly about victories in battle and rely on his strength and the power of his hammer, Mjolnir, Loki liked to observe and form strategies, using his cunning and magic to trick his enemies into submission. Thor's approach was often fool-hearty, but still everyone on Asgard loved the oaf and fell at his feet. Those same people scoffed and looked disdainfully at Loki for using magic, finding brute strength more honorable than intelligence. Even Lady Sif and the Warriors Three that were often in his presence only seemed to put up with him for Thor—though Fandral seemed to put up with him better than most. The only ones that seemed to accept him wholly, though they were as different as night and day, were his brother and their parents. It was especially his mother, Frigga that made him feel most at home.
So why was it that home didn't feel so natural to him and the Asgardians that he might one day rule, should be worthy of being Odin's successor to the throne, seem so suspicious of him?
Loki could practically feel his magic tingling at his fingertips as he tried to focus on the pages describing the secret passage of Niflheim into Helheim, but his thoughts from dinner were bleeding through, allowing his magic to feed from his restlessness and charge dangerously.
It had been centuries ago the last time Loki felt his magic fight build up to such unstable levels inside of him. When he was still learning all the ins and outs of his magic, his mother said that he might need to expel excess magic from time to time and then all would be fine. So he spent that excess magic on tricking as many people on Asgard as possible. When it was discovered that it was Loki who was the cause of all the chaos, the All-Father forbade him from using his magic for a week.
The magic built up in him again in that week, so Loki had to find another outlet to unleash his magical pranks upon. He read about astral projection and learned how to project his spirit to whole other realms without anyone on Asgard suspecting he was making trouble at all—of course he could only do tricks capable of the realm he visited. Should he do something otherworldly on another realm he'd surely raise some suspicion with the ever-vigilant Heimdall. He got to release pent up magic and get his kicks at the expense of whomever he was pulling the wool over on. Two birds with one stone was his way of thinking of it.
Loki put the ancient book on his bed next to him and relaxed onto his back. He took a soothing deep breath before calmly closing his eyes, emptying his mind of all distracting thoughts until there was nothing in his mind's eye but the vast branches of Yggdrasil.
Slowly he felt himself starting to float and stars and nebulas dotted the darkness behind his eyes.
Astral projection came naturally to him, but it was more difficult than a simple projection. Firstly it wasn't just a copy of him that would dematerialize the moment it made contact with something. It was his spirit that was being projected. He could remain invisible to anyone around him and perform magic. But he could also make his spirit as corporeal as his actual body. There were drawbacks to that. The more tangible he made his spirit or more elaborate his magic in another realm the more it drained his body of magic and energy. Secondly it took a lot of concentration for him to maintain his spiritual presence on another realm, much less just mere feet from his motionless body.
The process would drain him of a lot of magic, but he had plenty in his reserves, sparking and crackling at his fingertips to be released.
Loki looked about the nine realms, considering each one as they balanced on the branches of the mighty world tree. Which realm would be the lucky—or unlucky—one that he would visit tonight?
He remembered the fun he had on Vanaheim teasing Hogun's people into becoming untrusting of each other, but that incident had also resulted in Odin having to visit the very same realm to calm the sudden calamity among the normally peaceful nomadic people. Loki didn't want to raise more suspicion there.
Then there was Nidavellir, home of dwarves. They were a short, stout, busybody race that crafted many of the weapons for the warriors of Asgard, including Mjölnir and Odin's spear, Gungir. The last time he visited that realm for the sport of mischief he caused one dwarf to trip, which turned into one catastrophe after another inside the workshop until nearly everything was left in shambles. That one left him laughing heartily to himself for a long time as he watched invisible from perch in the rafters. Once again however, news traveled back to Asgard about the unfortunate accident and how the latest shipment of weapons from Nidavellir had to be delayed due to the destruction of many of the weapons.
Loki decided soon after that to stay away from realms that were closely tied with Asgard, lest he be found out that it was he that was causing all the trouble.
That left out Alfheim, because it was home to the Light Elves and they were also well connected with Asgard as well as were they highly skill sorcerers in their own right and might "sniff" him out. Niflheim was no fun because its only inhabitant was the dragon Nidhug. Lastly there were Jotunheim, Svartalfheim, and Muspellheim, and they were off his radar as well because he the Jotuns made him feel uneasy, the Dark Elves were almost as proficient in magic as their counterparts on Alfheim, and he simply just did not like being on the heated world that was Muspellheim.
Ah Midgard.
The newborn realm amongst the nine, but it was very low on Asgard's radar as Midgardians were frail, short-lived creatures that barely had any understanding of the other realms outside their own. The few times in the past when Aesir did visit Midgard, especially when the Jotun threatened it with another ice age, the foolish mortals thought them gods. They might as well have considered them gods given the strength and the longevity the weakest Aesir had over the strongest human.
When Loki made his first voyage to Midgard he looked on at the mortals with fascination. They were normally smaller than any being from any other realm and even the bearer of the fairest of their skin held imperfections. These creatures had yet to attain the time required to become anything close to a being of higher power, if they were ever meant to.
So it was quite easy for the Aesir to make grand impressions on the mortals, the infantile life forms they had spared from the Frost Giants. More than any other of the Asgardians, the humans gravitated their praise towards Odin and Thor, lavishing them with celebrations, temples, and even their finest maidens.
At first Loki merely observed the interactions of the mortals and Aesir from the shadows, gauging their reactions. Wondering if they would accept his presence as much as the other "Gods." Finally, long after all the other Asgardians made their way back to their home realm, he slinked out from his solitude and into the fray of the Midgardian celebration called Jul, allowing all to see him in his full Asgardian armor. The humans, having noticed him melt away from the shadows ceased their doings and stopped, eyes wide. Loki felt a surge of hope and let a pleased smile cross his face as this was the same reaction the people gave his father and brother.
"W-Who are you?" a man asked, seemingly the chieftain of this particular clan.
Walking forward, ignoring the tribe's staring gaze, Loki walked to the large table where a sacrificial boar had been placed upon it for the night's feast, inspecting it. The people continued to stare before backing away from him.
"Sons and daughters of Midgard, I mean no ill intent on this eve," he spoke gently, splaying a hand over his breastplate in a disarming gesture, "I am Loki, son of Odin and Frigga, and brother of Thor."
"Where is Freyr?" the Chieftain asked warily.
Loki felt his teeth grind together in mild annoyance at not being met with rejoicing as his kin had, but he kept his frustrations in check, letting his lips slip back into a charming smile.
"Freyr and the others have returned back to Asgard, celebrating with you Midgardians having thoroughly tired them out. But I still remain, vitally eager to join the festivities."
He sat at the long wooden table amongst the still silent mortals and plucked a piece of boar and popped the morsel into his mouth, chewing with consideration. Of course it was nothing like the succulent boar prepared on Asgard, but it still brought forth a pleased sound from his throat.
"A truly worthy boar of sacrifice," he said thoughtfully, then asked, "Did you spare the blood when it was slaughtered?"
When he received a nod, he beckoned the blood be brought to him. A maiden came to him, carrying a bowl containing the blood. It sloshed a little in her hands as she trembled before him. Loki rose from his seat and she seemed to shrink back from his towering height and she eyed his horns with trepidation. His arm moved slowly so as not to startle her further as it passed over the blood, it glowed in his signature color for a moment before returning to a deep maroon.
"Let this blood seep into the earth of your fields and there will be a bountiful harvest come spring," he instructed to the chieftain. His green eyes then flickered back to the maiden and he dipped his long fingers into the blood. She gasped audibly when he let his digits slowly run down her face from forehead to her collarbone, leaving crimson trails in their wake. "You too shall be blessed with bounty," he said to her and her alone.
After the celebration, Loki retreated back to the shadows to watch how his blessings played out, sure that once the mortals received their rewards that they would flock around him and worship him the next time he appeared. Maybe he could be an equal to Thor in this realm.
He should have known better.
The next morning that same maiden exited her dwelling, carrying the very bowl of blood he had blessed the night before. He watched from his perch with pride on his face, but it soon melted away as he saw her taking her travels outside the village and not to the farming fields. Confusion and anger stabbed at him at the mortals' blatant disregard of his instructions, but he stamped it down and followed the maiden, keeping his presence cloaked from her.
She didn't stop even as she shivered in the cold in her white slip of a gown, her face and clothes still stained with blood from his hand, her bare feet crunching in the snow. Despite her shivering, she kept on until she reached the precipice of a cliff overlooking a frozen fjord. With only a moment's hesitation, the maiden continued on her way as if the drop off were bridged. Loki was too shocked to react in any way that would save her from herself and he watched with rare expression of horror as the maiden's body fell in a flutter of white fabric, his blessed boars blood spilling out behind her like the tail of a comet.
He didn't know how long he stood there overlooking her body, but it was certainly long enough for the horror and brief grief to turn to bitterness.
When he returned to Midgard, he no longer came with goodwill and blessings, but instead darkness and curses. Being that Midgard was no longer under threat of the enemies of Asgard, Loki made many fond memories of doing whatever he pleased, of course within range of what was natural, lest his magic be found to be the culprit. He caused crops to wither and fail, cows to dry up, bewitched women out of the arms of their husbands, and whispered words of encouragement to men who had the seeds of evil already growing within them, starting wars. The Midgardians learned to fear him like never before and they prayed and made sacrifices to keep him away. Loki found their efforts strange, but amusing nonetheless. Such witless, pitiful creatures they were.
I wonder what Midgard is like now?
He focused on the lowly realm and his spirit projection drifted closer until he past through the threshold of the portal. The sight that met him was vastly different from his last visit. The twinkling lights of massive cities replaced the tiny villages of centuries ago.
Well at least there is some improvement, he mused as he hovered invisible in the sky. Time to have a bit of fun.
Loki vanished from the sky, reappearing moments later on the ground among the bustle of humans walking the busy city of Tokyo. He found himself looking up and around him for although it was daylight there, the towering buildings all around were lit up and flashing with visions and lights. Loki found the display to be an eyesore.
So they like flashy things?
Smirking, Loki twisted his wrist bending the lights to his will. They continued blinking in their regular patterns, but much faster than the human eye and brain could keep up with. Almost immediately several of the civilians began to stagger in their steps, throw up, or simply fall into convulsions.
He puffed out a silent snicker as he watched his handiwork before transporting himself to his next destination.
The next place he found himself was a desolate, frozen wasteland, reminding him of what he heard of Jotunheim. A frozen lake and a tiny dot sitting in the middle of it caught his sharp green eyes and he transported himself closer to get a better look. There sat a lone man in thick clothes, weathering the cold, a simple rod and line dipped in a hole in the ice.
Loki walked a circle around the man, studying his primitive way of procuring food. The line jerked in the water and the man grinned, "Finally a big one!"
Oh it will be a big one indeed.
As the man fought his catch up to the mouth of the hole in the ice, his excitement turned to comical horror as a giant serpent broke through the surface, a mouthful of sharp teeth ready to take a bite out of its would-be hunter.
The man screamed high and shrill as he backpedaled away from the creature Loki conjured, slipping and sliding on the ice as he went. The sorry fellow looked to be on the verge of cardiac arrest, but the scene brought much needed amusement to the sorcerer. He watched the man eventually disappear in his haste to escape, and finally let the visage of a serpent melt away into the harmless fish it had been all along.
Loki dashed from country to country; pulling mostly harmless yet humiliating pranks on the Midgardians that had the misfortune of being in his vicinity. He caused a strange beverage maker to malfunction and spray the operator with the bubbly liquid that humans apparently liked to drink. He ruined romantic moments between young lovers by momentarily influencing one of the pair to say something completely uncouth to their partner.
Upon seeing some scandalously dressed Midgard women walking down the sidewalk he wondered if they had no sense of modesty. He decided to test it and with just a small shift of his fingers, their already short skirts flew up as if by a gust of wind. The women shrieked and frantically pushed at their clothes to keep their under garments from prying eyes. Loki snorted to himself at the idea of the stupid humans dressing like harlots, yet acting suddenly too modest should they show just what they were blatantly trying to advertise.
It wasn't even beneath Loki to pick on children (though he never caused them any real harm), especially the annoying bratty ones—they reminded him of Thor. He'd cause a newly bought toy to drop "accidentally" and break or ice cream to fall from its cone to the ground. Their wailing cries were music to his ears.
The God of Mischief took a break from his troublemaking to sit on a lonely bench in the middle of a park. He leaned back in his seat, dipping his head back to look up at the night sky. He noticed that despite the darkness, the artificial lighting of Midgard muted most of the stars. Only a fraction of the stars he could view from Asgard were visible here. Although he lacked Heimdall's eagle sharp sight, from the Bifrost's observatory Loki could easily make out countless galaxies, nebulas, black holes, and super novas. Midgard's skies were hardly even worth calling a cheap imitation.
Being that he was alone, he allowed himself to mutter the feelings he got from the realm. "Pathetic."
His head shot up and his ears perked when they picked up a faint sound that was definitely human and not the ambient noise of the night. His face turned shrewd as he worked to discern just what sort of human sound it was and if the human in question had heard him speak. Sitting stock-still, not breathing, and slowing his heartbeat to a near standstill he was able to recognize that it was a child-like sobbing that he had heard.
Unlike the wailing tantrums of spoiled children he heard earlier, he sensed a deep wounded sorrow from this cry. It made him feel suddenly uneasy and he made to get up and leave Midgard altogether.
The crying sputtered to a sniffling before a tiny voice called out, "M-Mommy, w-where are you?"
Loki felt every fiber of his being freeze, those words tugging painfully at something inside of him. What that something was, it was familiar, but he could not place it.
Again he shrewdly contemplated what it was. When the lifespan of an Asgardian could last up to 5,000 years, one could forget the names of emotions that are not used frequently enough. He thought back through his own millennium of life, searching for a time he felt such a strong emotion.
There was the time when Thor had hurt himself during warrior training as a child. He was there to see his older brother break a bone for the first time, no small feat, even for an Asgardian child. Their father assured Thor that his arm would be healed by the end of the day, but offered no further comfort—a tactic to toughen young boys to become warriors. Loki found himself feeling something for his wounded brother, a feeling like he could imagine Thor's pain in his own arm and it brought tears to his own eyes. It took the combined effort of Loki and their mother to ease Thor enough to dry his tears.
What was this emotion? Compassion? Empathy?
The sobbing started again in earnest breaking Loki from his memories. Did he feel those things for a lost little mortal? Against better his judgments, curiosity won out—something else Loki had a penchant for other than mischief—and he stood to follow the simpering sniffling cries.
The walk took him deeper into the heart of the park, where the trees and shrubs grew thicker and more plentiful. The sidewalk lamps became less and less frequent allowing darkness to reign without much hindrance. Animals of the night fluttered about the trees and scuttled through the brush with near noiselessness, picking at the litter humans had left behind during the day. They didn't warrant much of his attention and he only paused to listen again when he heard the sobbing getting louder as it was also accompanied by much less careful footsteps. Definitely human.
Loki swiftly rounded a tree, eyes meeting the back of a little Midgard girl. She stopped walking to turn her head to and fro, frantically searching.
"Mommy!" she called louder, her voice reaching a desperate pitch.
Loki gripped the bark of the tree as that feeling from before clenched at his insides, tight enough to force out a shaky breath. The scene tossed him back into reverie of his past, when he was the size of the girl before him, calling for his own mother after having a horrible nightmare.
He at least felt just a smidge of empathy for the girl, begrudgingly, but he wasn't about to call it compassion.
The girl whipped around suddenly facing him now, fear obvious in the depths of her wide blue eyes. She looked right at him causing his muscles to pause rigidly under his skin.
"H-Hello," she called in apprehension.
She sees me? Impossible.
He was still by all means invisible.
Her breathing increased with her panic, clutching her hands at her chest in a feeble attempt to put something between her and the dangers of the night. "W-Who's t-there?" More tears gathered in her eyes and spilled down her heart shaped face as she shook in fear, yet her feet kept her rooted to the spot she currently occupied.
Loki's chest constricted painfully at the look she gave him. The will to trick and tease left his being replaced with the need to put the mortal at ease. There was something else he wanted, but he wasn't sure what. He slowly materialized before her with little thought behind it.
This isn't like you.
The girl blinked at him, startled at the revelation, then as if she'd forgotten her prior fear, her face changed to an expression of awe. "Whoa, cooool."
Though he remained outwardly neutral, a strange sense of pride filled him from impressing her and causing her tears to dry. But then confusion took over, making him wonder why his presence bothered his own people and the mere whisper of his name caused Midgardians of the past to quiver. Why was this girl so different from any of them?
He studied her as if looking at an insect under magnification trying to figure out just what made her unique from the other insects. She was fairly ordinary by Midgardian standards with long umber hair that fell in waves from underneath a knit hat. He thought she was too young to need glasses, but deduced she may have been born with eyes that needed correcting. The rest of her was dressed in a knit scarf, pants, and a peacoat. The whole ensemble made her seem even tinier.
Loki decided he wanted to find just what made her so different.
"Does my appearance cheer you up child?" he hedged in a gentle but imploring tone.
"Oh yes!" she said with a smile—showing off a recently lost baby tooth while bouncing on the balls of her feet as if that were the only thing that could keep her excitement from exploding forth. "How did you do that!?"
Loki allowed a smile of his own, again feeling pleased with the mortal's interest in him. "Magic of course."
"Wow," she breathed, her eyes widening in admiration, "are you like a fairy—wait," he quirked a brow as she paused in her thinking, "…you're too big to be a fairy. Are you an elf?"
He chuckled at her attempts to figure him out. "I'm not a fairy nor an elf," he answered, gracing her with a bow, "I am prince Loki of Asgard."
It was taking a chance revealing himself, even to a mortal so small, but he could not bring himself to care at the moment, the desire for her to acknowledge him for who he really was far too strong.
The girl seemed none the wiser to his former Midgardian title of Loki, God of lies and mischief. She returned his bow with a curtsey despite wearing pants and not a skirt. "I'm Darcy of Santa Rosa."
"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Lady Darcy," he inclined his head once more before stepping closer, "Now if I may ask…what seems to have troubled you little one?"
Darcy's face faltered and she looked down from him with a quivering lip. "I-I was walking through the park with my mom when I saw the fire flies lighting up and I chased after them. Mom called after me, but I just wanted to catch one…a-and then I did and I wanted to show her, but then I looked around and she w-was gone and I-I didn't know where I w-was…" she finished her story with a sniff, her eyes sparkling with unshed tears meeting his again, "W-What if I never see my m-mom again?"
The clenching of his chest started again. This girl was definitely pulling at all the right strings of his usually indifferent heart, bending him into feeling things he never cared to feel for a mortal before.
Loki knelt before her bringing her as close to eye level with his tall frame as he could, his hands reaching out to grasp both of her tiny shoulders in an act of reassurance. "You will see your mother again, she will find you."
"H-How d-do you know?" she whimpered.
"I just know," he smiled, "A good mother would never abandon her child. Do you have a good mother, Darcy?"
Her wave of locks bounced as she nodded vigorously.
"Then you have nothing to fear. If you wait right here for her, she will surely find you, and I will remain in your company while you wait." Loki released her, shifting smoothly so he sat cross-legged on the sweet smelling grass. He beckoned her to join him and she plopped down next to him without hesitation. "So you like my magic? Would you like to see more?"
"YES!" Darcy nodded again, bouncing up and down even though she was sitting.
Another mirthful chuckle escaped the prince and he obliged her by conjuring glowing apparitions of the beautiful native birds of Asgard. Darcy gazed up in wonder at their colorful and intricate plumage as they flitted and soared gracefully around her and Loki, leaving trails of light in their wake.
Loki flicked his wrist and the birds slowly morphed into equally stunning fish, elegantly long fins trailing them like veils. Another flick and the fish bloomed into flowers, one more flick and the flowers collapsed into spheres emitting a soft green glow. His hands silently called the orbs to him and he effortlessly juggled all ten of them as Darcy giggled and clapped her hands. It wasn't very often that he was this showy with his magic; he namely used it practically or for setting up the perfect prank. But yet here he was, Loki, prince of Asgard, God of Mischief, using his magic like parlor tricks for a mortal child's amusement.
At least this particular use of his magic dried the tears and silenced the sobs plaguing the girl, which in turn plagued him.
Deciding the scene around them was too drab the prince bumped one orb off his elbow and sent it flying into a tree. It exploded in a dusting of brilliant green sparks, enhancing the colors of the tree and illuminating it with shimmering lights. The mortal let out a shameless squeal of delight at his handiwork, bringing a prideful smirk to his face.
With simple yet swift gestures of his hand, the remaining orbs shot out around them, blasting everything in their surroundings with tiny, brilliant explosions of light. It wasn't until he had finished that Loki realized he'd transformed their little spot of the park into a vision of a lush Asgardian forest.
"This is awesome!" Darcy shouted with glee and jumped to her feet to investigate every inch of the new world unfurled before her.
Loki was simply content to watch her while his mind contemplated his feelings since meeting the girl. He decided that it was her personality—her inquisitiveness, enthusiasm, and her lack of filter that made her unique and interesting to him. Never had he met a being like her, someone who didn't view him with disdain or fear. In fact she embraced his magic. He admitted to himself, and only to himself, that he felt a sort of fondness growing in his heart for her. He thought her as kindred to him, sharing his free spirit.
Look at how far you've fallen Loki Odinson, he heard a voice say with contempt, the once feared God of lies and chaos…look at you now, pandering your magic to sooth a mere mortal child. Her acceptance of you matters not. The voice was his own conscience echoing within his head.
A second voice chimed in sounding more encouraging of his behavior compared to the seething of first voice. Just because she is mortal does not mean her company should be ignored. You do seek acceptance don't you? It does not matter if that acceptance comes from a being as great as you or from one as insignificant as a Midgardian. Friendship and acceptance is all that matters.
The girl is beneath you; this entire realm is beneath you! All it is good for is reminding you that you are vastly above them. A prince, a future king of Asgard!
A king who should be mindful of all under his rule, a worthy king respects all, from the highest race to the lowest of creatures. All branches are integral to the great Yggdrasil; don't forget that.
The warring voices overtook Loki's mind and he winced as their words ran together and became so indiscernible that he couldn't make sense of it anymore.
A scream finally hushed his thoughts and he shot up to his feet. When realized he was suddenly alone he cursed to himself for not keeping an eye on the mortal who's curiosity seemed to rival his own.
No wonder the girl got lost in the first place, he thought, letting frustration take over as he trudged through the forest in search of his young charge.
"Loki! Help!" she cried out seemingly just ahead of him.
The prince's chagrin melted away to be instantly replaced with gut-wrenching worry over the girl's safety. He called out her name in response, letting her know he was coming for her. After brushing some foliage out of his way he located her, his worry multiplying upon seeing what new trouble she got herself into.
A tree that he had enchanted with magic had grown limb-like branches and held her pinned against its trunk, but that was the least of the danger. His turning the area into a little piece of Asgard had gone a little out of his control and conjured another beast of his realm, the feared Bilgesnipe. The beast inched towards the screaming girl, snarling as it prepared to pounce.
Loki wasted not a moment in flicking a magically charged dagger at the creature and it fell dead instantly. With the Bilgesnipe no longer a threat, Loki turned his attention back to Darcy who still struggled against the tree holding her hostage. He waved one hand dismissively through the air and all his enchantment seeped away, returning the scene to that of the Midgardian park.
Loki had not felt such worry in a long, long time and it unsettled him, and when he felt unsettled, he usually let his anger override the situation.
"You shouldn't have run off," he growled, "do you not understand that you could have been hurt or killed? You silly Midgar—"
His rant was cut short when the object of his ire latched herself to his leg, leaving his silver tongue without anything more to say.
"I-I'm sorry…please don't be mad," Darcy whispered, clinging to his leg as if her very life depended on it—which it probably did.
All the anger seemed to leak from his very pores and his tense shoulders sagged in defeat. He gingerly pried her from his leg so he could kneel down, arms wrapping her up in his arms.
"I'm not mad, little one," the words just tumbled out as he stroked her head tenderly, "my magic just got out of hand and I was worried for your safety."
There it was, out in the open. The fact that even a mere thought of this little mortal in any kind of danger made him feel physically ill should be disconcerting to him, but he felt like he couldn't deny it to himself anymore. Darcy had him wrapped securely around her tiny little finger.
Oh yes…look at how far I have fallen, lowering myself for one so small.
"I'm okay, Loki, don't worry," she whispered, momentarily pulling away from his chest to give him an endearing smile. She then stood on the tips of her toes so her little arms could make a circle around his neck and fully return his embrace.
Loki knew at that moment that he would have fallen again and again just for another hug from her. Perhaps this was how Frigga felt when she gave into his and Thor's demands behind Odin's back when they were children. Maybe she still felt that way about them no matter how big the two of them have grown.
Being in Darcy's company eased his mind and made him stop questioning himself and just focus on the here and now. He felt like he could shed the mask he forced himself to wear around Thor and his friends and embrace his magic without fear. He honestly didn't know if he could let her go now and he silently debated with himself on whether or not to spirit her back with him to Asgard.
"Darcy!" came a distant feminine call.
The decision was taken out of his hands literally as the girl wiggled out of his arms, as if forgetting all him, and ran to the direction of the voice.
"Mommy!"
Loki watched Darcy's brunette hair bounce behind her as she ran, feeling the contentment and warmth get sucked right out of him. A woman appeared over the hill and happily scooped up the little girl, all the while letting out incoherent cries of relief upon finding her daughter.
The prince felt cold and alone from his spot in the shadows, but he couldn't bring himself to feel too bitter.
It wouldn't do for me to get to attached, her lifespan will be over in the blink of an eye. She belongs with her mother yet.
"Don't ever run off like that again," the woman scolded in a frantic voice, still too shaken up for it to sound truly threatening.
"I'll try not to," Darcy said mischievously—which caused Loki to chuckle to himself. Before her mother could protest to that, Darcy wiggled out of her grasp as well. "Mommy, come meet my new friend!" she exclaimed, taking her mother's hand and pulling her along.
"Friend? What friend, dear?" her mother asked pensively.
Friend?
Loki barely broke out of his thoughts in time to make sure he was invisible again.
"Loki!" Darcy called, looking for him in the spot he previously occupied, "Loki, where'd you go?"
"Who is Loki?" her mother asked again, blue eyes searching as well, but exercising more caution.
"My friend! He's a prince! A-And he can use magic! Oh and he stayed and protected me until you found me!"
"A prince AND magic?" her mother dropped her defenses slightly before muttering mostly to herself, "I wish I had an imaginary friend like that when I was your age."
"But he's not imaginary!" the child insisted.
Loki remained hidden, but his heart swelled with happiness as he eavesdropped on Darcy's praises of him.
"Okay, okay," said the mother, still clearly not believing her "but it's late so you'll have to wait until after school tomorrow to play with your friend again. It's way past your bed time." She gathered up her daughter again, holding her against her hip as they walked out of the park.
Meanwhile Loki could feel his spiritual connection to Midgard slipping, his magic was nearly drained and he'd have to return to Asgard soon. But he had one last thing he knew he must do before his departure.
"But mommy, I'm not tired yet. I can't sleep noow," Darcy pouted from her spot under the covers of her bed.
"You better or I'll give you chores tomorrow," her mother left no room for argument and kissed her daughter goodnight.
The bedroom light was switched off and the door shut, but Darcy resisted sleep.
"You should sleep, little one."
Darcy bolted up in bed upon hearing his voice and seeing his form illuminated by a lone green orb. "Loki!"
Loki shushed the girl with a slender finger to his lips.
"Show me more magic," she whispered.
He shook his head solemnly. "My magic is wearing thin, Darcy. I merely came to bid you goodnight." And goodbye.
Darcy looked disappointed—and it pulled at his heart a little, but she nodded concededly. "Then will you tell me story…please?"
Loki couldn't bring himself to say no, so he told Darcy of the story of when he cut off all of Lady Sif's once golden hair in retaliation for calling him a coward for using tricks during battle training. His punishment had been to find a way to replenish Sif's hair. He tricked the dwarves of Nidavellir to not only construct Sif's new hair—though to have a laugh he had them make her black hair instead of gold—but to also give him the spear Gungir which he presented to his father as a gift.
Darcy listened intently at first, asking questions here and there, but by the time he was halfway through the story the little Midgardian and reluctantly fallen fast asleep. Loki carefully tucked her further under her covers and brushed some wayward strands of hair from her face, a sad smile gracing his angular features.
"As much as I have grown fond for you, little one, I must take my leave back to Asgard," he whispered, "We probably won't cross paths again, but I hope you will understand that it is for the best, for the both of us."
Only a few threads of magic kept his astral projection tethered to Midgard now, so he said the last of his parting words hastily.
"Be good for your mother and don't run off so much. Try not to get into so much trouble, but live your life to the fullest." He leaned over and pressed his lips to lightly to her forehead, "Sweet dreams and farewell my dear Darcy."
With the very last ounce of his magic, he quickly whispered a charm upon her so that when she woke, she would remember her time with him more as a dream than reality.
Loki returned to his body on Asgard feeling absolutely drained, but light-hearted all the same. He too fell quickly into an easy slumber after throwing on his sleeping tunic and trousers and tumbling back onto his bed.
Despite not being able to use his magic again for a good two weeks, his uplifted mood continued. Not the idiocy of his brother, the taunting of Lady Sif and the Warriors Three, nor the disdainful looks of the people of Asgard could wrench the contented smile from his lips as he went about his days. He walked confidently with his head defiantly held high.
And for a short time, much to the relief of Odin, Asgard was free of any maliciously humiliating pranks from its trickster prince.
A.N: This originally spawned itself from a dream I had where Loki meets Darcy as a child, but the circumstances were drastically different. I drew some inspiration from watching videos on youtube of Loki/Tom Hiddleston interacting with children; if you've seen the ones I'm thinking of, you know what I mean about cuteness overload. I originally had this under a different title as well, but changed it. I like the Theory of Entanglement and how Adam describes it in Only Lovers Left Alive is perfect (Another good Tom Hiddleston movie btw). I wanted to include some Norse mythology in with this story a little, but changed some of it up to fit with the movie's universe as well. Also if I totally butchered the Viking ceremony, (which wouldn't surprise me) I'm incredibly sorry! It was a mix of stuff I researched and stuff I saw on the series Vikings.