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Special thanks to my beta Notes from the Classroom. She's writing a terrific story called "Changelings". Check it out in my faves!

Dishonor in the House of Odin

Navigating to his contact list on his phone, Captain Steve Rogers, says, "Thanks for helping me figure this out, Darcy."

"No, problem," she says. Because helping him import contacts and set up speed dial numbers really wasn't a problem. Sitting so close she almost was touching him was reward enough.

"You're a swell girl," he says not looking up. He shifts his posture and Darcy can tell he's about to head into the conference room for the quarterly debriefing with Fury.

She leans in quick and nearly goes dizzy with the smell of soap and him. "And look, I even put my number in there..."

Steve looks up at her.

Swallowing, she steps back. "In case you ever need help with any other modern gadgetty stuff," she says. Pushing back her glasses, she averts her gaze.

A hand claps down on his shoulder and Tony Stark's voice echoes cheerily through the hall. "Yo, Cap, you got me for gadgetty stuff."

"Oh, hi, Tony," says Steve. He maybe nods in Darcy's direction as he and Tony walk away. He maybe doesn't.

Darcy sighs. "Bye."

From behind her she hears two more sets of footsteps. She rolls her eyes. Sure enough, in another moment, Loki is leaning over her shoulder and whispering in her ear. "You know, if you were wearing the sweater I bought for you instead of this...bear pelt..." He picks at the boxy acrylic sweater she's wearing...again. "He wouldn't walk away so fast."

Flushing, Darcy says, "I'm sending the sweater back, Loki."

From behind them comes Thor's voice. "Loki, you gave Darcy a sweater?"

"What do you mean you're sending it back?" says Loki, his words clipped.

Ignoring Thor, Darcy turns to Loki. "I can't accept gifts from you...it's...weird."

"Loki," Thor says. "What have you -"

"Weird?" says Loki leaning in until they're nearly nose to nose. "It is my right to -"

Thor claps a hand over Loki's mouth and Darcy's and Loki's eyes go wide. Loki must bite him or something because he pulls his hand back quickly. Shaking his fingers, Thor growls. "Brother..."

Loki's shoulders sink and he seems to deflate.

"It's your right?" says Darcy, to Loki.

Loki looks at Thor.

Scowling, Thor puts his arms over his chest.

Looking at the floor Loki says, "Of course. I was responsible for Thor's banishment. And for sending the Destroyer. If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have been exposed to sensitive information of intergalactic proportions, and SHIELD wouldn't have dissuaded any other potential employers; you might have a more fulfilling vocation."

"Wait, they dissuaded other potential employers?" Darcy says, voice rising.

Thors sighs, grabs Loki's arm and drags him into Fury's conference room.

Darcy stands just outside the door, confused and stunned by the whole exchange. She's about to turn around and head back to Jane's lab when Agent Maria Hill opens the door, and Fury shouts, "Lewis! Lewis! Get in here!"

"He wants you," says Maria, as though it wasn't perfectly obvious.

Blinking, Darcy walks into the conference room. All of the Avengers are sitting at a shiny black oval table. Loki is leaning on a hand, looking bored. Tony is rocking back in his chair staring at Loki. Bruce, Hawkeye, Natasha, Steve and Thor are looking expectantly at Fury. There is a large screen against the far wall, evidently plugged to the laptop Fury is hovering over because the screen has SHIELD's login page up and it says "Enter Password Director Fury"

Hitting tiny keys with too big hands, Fury says, "I think I forgot my password again, Lewis. Could you reset it for me?"

Darcy's eyes widen as his fingers keep moving. "Wait, are you on your third try?"

"Yes, but I don't think..." And then it happens. Suddenly the screen shows Darcy, larger than life. Screen Darcy has her glasses down low on her nose, is wearing all black, and is holding an old fashioned wooden pointer - well, actually, it was a pool cue. Darcy improvised.

Darcy's recorded voice echoes through the room. "You've forgotten your password for the 20th time Director Fury." She smacks the old fashioned pointer on her hand. "And this time you will not scream for me or anyone else in tech support to reset it for you!"

Everyone's eyes swing to Darcy.

"Oh, I won't, will I?" says Director Fury.

It had seemed like a harmless gag when she created this little video and tied it to his 20th failed attempt to login. In retrospect, it may have been an over reaction to his annoying inability to follow directions. Of course, she hadn't really thought the 20th failure would happen - let alone that it would happen in public. Real Darcy's hands go to her mouth.

Fortunately - or unfortunately, screen Darcy answers for her. "No, this time you will use the Reset Password link conveniently located right under the Submit button."

The screen shifts and the old fashioned pointer - well, pool cue, is aimed at the Reset Password link...that is right under the submit button. And seriously, why call tech support when the link is right there?

The pool cue fades away, but Darcy's voice is still coming over the speakers. "Come on, I know you can do it!"

Darcy swallows. Her whole body feels like it's turned to ice.

"Miss Lewis," Fury says, voice scarily inflectionless. "I'm very disappointed in you."

And that's when Darcy's had enough. "Well then, why don't you fire me? Oh, yeah...because I know too much. Well, I'm sick of this job and I'm going to find another and if I don't because someone dissuades people I'm spilling the beans on..." She blinks. Actually, she doesn't really want to spill the beans on too much...primarily because most of what she knows would be kind of bad if it got out. The secret identities of Steve, Bruce, Hawkeye and Natasha, for instance. The fact that Thor was responsible for a guy being permanently paralyzed before he got Mjolnir back. The fact that Asgard has the Bifrost and it can be used at as a weapon and it's frequently pointed in Earth's direction.

"...stuff..." Darcy finishes weakly.

For a moment there is nothing but ominous silence in the room.

And then Loki says, "I, on the other hand, have never been more proud of you."

"Brother!" snaps Thor.

Darcy turns to Thor's little brother. Sitting straight up in his chair, he's smiling. No, scratch that. He's beaming at her.

"Get out of here, Miss Lewis!" says Fury.

Smirking, Darcy gives a very poor imitation of a salute and leaves the room.

She's halfway to her desk when it hits her. Proud of her? Well...that's a little bit odd. She shakes her head. Whatever. She's obviously going to be fired, and she's not waiting around for Fury to go all pitbull on her - she's leaving without giving him the pleasure.

Darcy gathers all her personal belongings, sends an apologetic email to Jane, and picks up the sweater she got from Loki - it's all wrapped up in its original packaging. Heading out of the office, she drops the sweater off at the UPS store and heads home, a big smile on her face. She has hardly any money. She has no idea what she'll do...but she feels happy and free.

When Darcy gets back to the tiny basement 'studio' she's subletting from a friend who got a 'sweet deal' with rent control laws, she hears a dripping sound. She immediately knows that the studio's only sink is leaking again, and there is a puddle in the 3 foot by 3 foot area that passes as a kitchen. But she doesn't even look at that. Instead, her eyes go to the one piece of furniture in the room - a mattress on the floor. Her UPS package is there...and several tidy boxes of different colors that she knows without looking have clothing in them and scream expensive!

She blinks at them and then hears her buzzer sound. Peeking through her curtains and the bars over her windows, she sees two men and one woman. They're all dressed in black.

The buzzer sounds again. She sighs. Might as well get this over with.

x x x x

Back loaded with wood from the forest, Minokichi bows at the river's edge. Beside him is his mother. Crouching low by the water, she prods a spot of gray earth with a stick. "What about this clay?" she says. "It might be suitable for a tatara."

Minokichi nods. At the river's edge the clay is dense and pure. It would be suitable for a tatara, the furnace used for smelting iron and steel. Not that it matters. Even if he could build the furnace, it takes at least four men tending fires for a week to extract the steel from the ore. Not that he could afford the ore - or the coal to create a blaze hot enough. But he smiles at his mother and makes a non-committal, "Eh."

Shaking the stick at him, she says, "You must not give up."

Taking a deep breath, Minokichi bows a little more - in deference and because the wood on his back is very heavy. "Eh," he says.

"It will all work out somehow," his mother says, straightening and hoisting up her own burden of branches. "You'll see."

Minokichi does not see. They are nearly penniless. His late master's son had blamed him for his father's death - and though the charge had been dismissed, the implication had virtually assured that no other sword smith in Edo would take Minokichi on, even as a lowly assistant. He will be a poor woodcutter like his father and his grandfather. If he scrimps and saves he might be able to give a better life to his children - if any woman will have a wood merchant as poor as himself.

He has resigned himself. It can't be helped. The wood upon his back suddenly feels very heavy. And then from above Minokichi and his mother, a feminine voice calls out, "Minokichi, is that you?"

For a moment Minokichi thinks he may be dreaming...it has been nearly an entire year. But he looks up. Standing atop the river bank is Yuki, wearing a fine green yukata bound at the waist with yellow fabric. A large satchel is strapped to her back. In the light of the autumn sun she is even more beautiful than he remembered.

"Yuki-sama!" he says, not quite able to contain a smile, although perhaps he should be afraid. He'd spent most of their night together absolutely petrified with fear...but now, looking back at it, it was his last glimpse of a brighter, more beautiful world.

"Sama?" says his mother, and Minokichi blushes. He used an honorific - something reserved for a fine lady, but he attached it to her given name, not her family name as would be appropriate. And she used his given name as well; his mother will know something is amiss.

Walking down the bank, Yuki says, "Oh, it is a joke...you must be Minokichi's mother, Masada-san?"

"Yes," his mother says, bowing slightly at their family name. His mother doesn't look at the spirit girl's eyes, though. She is staring down at Yuki's pristine white socks and shiny green sandals peeking out beneath her yukata.

"Pleased to meet you," says Yuki with a mischievous smile and a bow in Minokichi's mother's direction.

Straightening, Yuki says, "Did Minokichi not tell you how we met on his journey to deliver his last sword?"

His mother's eyes slide to Minokichi. "No, he did not."

Minokichi looks down at the ground. "Eh, meeting Yuki - sa...san, was the only bright point of that journey." He meets Yuki's eyes. In the light they are a vibrant otherworldly shade of green. "But what brings you here, Yuki-san?"

Yuki frowns. "My parents have died."

Minokichi blinks. He doubts that very much.

"That's terrible!" says Minokichi's mother. If she is suspicious of Yuki's startling eye color, she shows no sign.

Tilting her head, Yuki says, "Yes, and I am journeying to Edo to obtain a position as a servant."

Minokichi smiles slightly to cover his discomfort. She's lying. His mother doesn't seem to catch on, though. Instead, she says, "Well, it is getting late. A young girl like you shouldn't spend it in the open. Come to our home, stay the night with us."

Minokichi's eyes widen, and he feels his skin heat from head to toe. It shocks him that just the thought of the beautiful woman before him sleeping in the next room...he bows his head. Yuki can turn herself into snow and create fire. To think that way of her is bound to bring him trouble.

"But I don't wish to give you trouble," Yuki says, as if hearing his thoughts.

"Oh, it's no trouble at all," says Minokichi's mother.

Minokichi is inclined to disagree. He imagines himself lying awake in his futon all night, listening to Yuki's breathing through the thin paper walls of their hut. It will be trouble, the most delicious kind.

"Make way for your elder," says Minokichi's mother, brushing by Yuki on her way up the bank.

"Follow me!" she calls as she makes her way down the muddy path along the river's edge, much too fast for Yuki and Minokichi to keep up. Minokichi, blinks and his face reddens. His mother is trying to give them privacy. As though he could be a worthy match for a spirit of the snow...

He hazards a glance at Yuki. If she is aware of his mother's intentions and the insult, she gives no sign. To be on the safe side, he tries to diffuse the situation with a bit of humor, "I think she likes you."

Yuki winks at him, "I noticed." Minokichi's face goes hot, and he looks away. Spirited spirit - she'll be the death of him, but before she is, perhaps they'll have one last night. And even if it is spent in only conversation, he will be satisfied. He remembers the last time she was here, how bright and curious she was, how intelligent her questions about sword making were, how interesting her stories of Isurando and Asugarado.

He tilts his head...surely she didn't come for conversation - he's much too dull. He puts his hands against the load he carries on his back. And surely she didn't come for other...personal...reasons. "Why have you returned, Yuki-sama?" he asks.

"I have come to have you make me a sword," Yuki says.

Minokichi's breath catches in his throat. He remembers her holding his blade, confident and regal. Her praise, then and now, makes his heart leap.

Smiling a little wickedly she says, "Between your skills and my enchantments it will become one of the most legendary weapons in all the realms."

Minokichi smiles, but not in happiness. "Though my skills are not up to the task..."

Yuki lifts an eyebrow. "You're lying again."

Minokichi tilts his head, pleased by her recognition, but uncomfortable, too. "...I would gladly forge one for you."

"But?" says Yuki.

Minokichi smiles at the ground, his stomach twisting. "But I have neither furnace nor forge, nor ore or coal, nor apprentices to stoke the flames."

Swinging her satchel forward, Yuki pulls out a small leather pouch tied with a single golden braid. "Perhaps I can help you get started." She pulls on the braid and the leather falls away. Golden coins fall onto the ground.

"Ooh..." says Yuki, as Minokichi scrambles to pick them out of the mud, carefully handing each one back to her. They have pictures on them, a tree on one-side, on the other a one eyed man with a full beard - her father the mountain king? The one-eyed man seems to be scowling at Minokichi. Minokichi imagines him saying, "Keep your hands off my daughter."

"Is it enough?" says Yuki.

Minokichi looks at the gold and up to her. "Yes - more than enough." Enough to build his own shop from the ground up. He shakes his head. "But it will take weeks, months even, and your family -"

"- know that I am visiting your realm for an extended period of time. It's done by us spirits all the time." She shrugs and gives a twisted smile. "They won't even miss me."

"I doubt that very much," Minokichi says, hearing the bitterness he'd heard so plainly in her voice that first night.

Her smile fades, and Minokichi bows his head so as not to gaze at her emotions so exposed; he doesn't want to embarrass her.

They start to walk along the path again. After a few moments she says, "Will you do it?" she says.

He nods. "Yes. But I don't know how I will explain it to my mother without telling her that you are from the spirit realm..."

Yuki smiles brightly. Her teeth are not blackened as the rich ladies do, nor are her eyebrows shaved and painted high upon her forehead...but her height, her beauty, they are signs that she is not a daughter of poverty. "Don't worry, between your knowledge of the local culture, and my silver tongue, we'll think of something."

Minokichi nods, his brain a bit foggy with hope...and maybe just her presence.

It is only when they are entering their humble home, and Yuki is slipping off her shoes and stepping onto their tatami mats with bright white socks, that it occurs to him...his mother hasn't asked a single question about her family.

x x x x

Loki opens the door of the Masada's home. The morning sun is shining, and the surprise early autumn snowfall is melting. She looks to the ancient building hastily rehabbed in the past month to house Minokichi's sword making shop. He is there, putting the finishing touches on the furnace he built.

Loki could create an imitation of the sword he beheld last time he was here - but it would be just that, an imitation. His magic might make it sharp, might make it gleam, but in a circumstance when magic was stripped away it would be just a dull blade, a prop, not a sword. He could go to the dwarves, but then the blade would have their magic wrapped with his. This way the blade's magic will be his and his alone.

Yuki - Loki - had come up with a brilliant story to hide the truth of the sword's commission from Minokichi's mother. A rich samurai from two provinces over had ordered a sword made by Minokichi and sent him an advance to build his shop. As tidy as the tale was, there was a snag...although Minokichi was able to build a proper furnace with the help of some villagers, he hadn't been able to find experienced apprentices to stoke the flames for the full seven days it was necessary to smelt the ore. So Yuki needed a pretense to stay, to help Minokichi manage the fires herself - with magic, of course.

Fortunately, the snow had fallen and Minokichi's mother had insisted she wait until it cleared.

From behind her, Loki hears the sound of soft footfalls. She turns to see the old woman approaching. "Good morning, Yuki"

"Good morning, Masada-san," says Loki.

"You may call me Masako," the old woman says, coming to stand by the door with her. Loki bows her head. In the past few weeks bowing has become second nature.

Gazing out at the mountains, Masako says, "It is still very cold."

Raising an eyebrow, Loki notes it is hardly cold at all.

Nodding her head, Masako continues, "Maybe you should stay until spring - it will be easier to travel then."

Loki smiles. In this society, misdirection isn't considered weak, it's courtesy. Masako is really saying 'stay with us...stay with my son, be his wife' but giving Loki wiggle room to say, 'I'm not interested' without hurting feelings. Whether Minokichi shares her feelings, Loki can't tell. He is either not interested, or terribly shy.

Why Masako would want her for a daughter-in-law, Loki cannot imagine. She has made little effort to help with chores, beyond covertly using magic to whisk stains from fabrics, blast dust bunnies into other dimensions, and heat water faster. Even if Loki was inclined to help she wouldn't know how. Masako has spent the last few weeks essentially as Loki's servant. As a princess - prince! Loki is used to such treatment, but even she is beginning to feel guilty.

Loki looks at the sun. "It is time for Minokichi's tea. Why don't I deliver it for you?"

Masako nods quickly, as though she was waiting to hear exactly that. "Yes, yes, I would appreciate that."

A few minutes later Loki is carrying a tray across the yard. The air is crisp and clear. The mountains rise behind her. She stops to turn and take it all in. It's been so peaceful here. She will miss it when she leaves. Her eyes fall to Masako and Minokichi's little hut. It's been a bit like being on a camping trip with Thor - sleeping on the floor, and drafty. But they have a bath. And the food is better. And every night she reads to Minokichi and Masako as they work - books ostensibly left to her by her parents. The Masadas enjoy it; they do not mock her for reading.

It is so easy to be quiet here...the Masadas would never put up with someone like Thor. Not that they'd tell him. They'd probably hide all their food and claim they couldn't feed him.

Bowing her head with a smirk, Loki, heads towards the workshop. As she enters she is hit by a wave of heat. She blinks in the darkness until her eyes adjust, and then she stifles a gasp. Minokichi is standing before the furnace, stripped to the waist.

At the sound of her, he says, "Mother..." and then turns around. Minokichi blinks. "Oh, Yuki-sama."

His skin has the slight sheen of moisture. Loki feels herself flush. He isn't as bulky as the typical Asgardian, but it strikes Loki that he is healthy and perfectly proportioned. Licking her lips, she composes herself. It isn't like a half naked man is a sight Loki hasn't seen before - in her own - his own - mirror. Once upon a time.

It seems a long time ago.

Taking a shaky step forward, she says, "I've brought you your tea."

"Yes, thank you," says Minokichi stepping forward quickly and holding out his hands to take the tray. "You shouldn't have, Yuki-sama."

There is the honorific again. The tray falls from Loki's hands and the rough earthenware dishes crack on the hard floor.

"Yuki, are you alright?" Minokichi says.

Falling to her knees - to pick up the pieces or to just get away from him - Loki says, "Your dishes, I am sorry." She picks up a few shards and closes her eyes. The shards rip from her hand, yanked by her own magic.

"Eh?" she hears Minokichi say, his voice very close.

Loki opens her eyes to find him kneeling beside her. Unable to meet his eyes, she stares at the cups and teapot she has reassembled. "I am sorry," she says shakily. "I've ruined your tea. I can't put it back in the pot, it's picked up the dirt that's on the floor and -"

Minokichi wraps his hands around hers. "Yuki, you've cut yourself," he says.

Loki looks down to where his warm golden fingers are wrapped around her pale skin, and her mouth goes dry. She sees the blood, the shallow cuts, but she is overwhelmed by the electricity that courses through her skin at his touch.

"It's nothing," she manages to murmur, and closing her eyes, she wills them to heal.

When she opens her eyes again, Minokichi is staring down at her healed fingers. "I am glad..." he whispers, and looking up he meets her gaze.

For the first time she notices how rapid his breathing is - probably echoing Loki's own. And with a flash she realizes, Minokichi is interested...and he is not shy. He is polite.

But now...He puts her hands together, so they are steepled palm to palm and then bowing, kisses the tops of her fingers. Heat spreads from where his lips touch to every part of Loki's body. A bridge has been crossed. She knows it instantly, but she doesn't want to turn back.

Minokichi lays his forehead against her hands, and his hands drift down her wrists. Heat spreads from his touch through her entire body. Loki doesn't remember a simple touch like that affecting her so much as a man. She takes a shuddering breath, and Minokichi pulls her close so their foreheads are touching but he does not kiss her, he just runs his hands, feather light, up her arms to her shoulders and down her back. Not as though he is experienced, as though he is cautious, curious...wanting.

And it feels...wonderful. Loki closes her eyes. It's like her whole body is an instrument of pleasure. She's been with many women in her male form - how did she not know this? Minokichi drops his head and nuzzles the space between her ear and her neck and Loki gasps.

If anyone in Asgard were to know about this...she swallows and drops her hands as Minokichi pulls her more tightly to her. She breathes in the scent of his skin and lays her hands against his bare chest.

It will just be an experiment. After her - his affair - in Asgard with Tyr's wife Vord, Vord's unplanned pregnancy, and the son Loki could never acknowledge as his own, Loki never trusted Eir's spells to control fertility. She was well acquainted with preventing accidents. No one need know about it. And when she's done...well, she'll be devastating with women in her male form, and she'll have a fine sword.

x x x x

Darcy's in the Stark Tower, popping her ears, when the elevator she's on draws to a stop at the 37th floor. WIth a ping the elevator doors open. And there's Loki. Darcy's grin is wide and genuine. It seems to startle him, because he blinks, and then without commenting on the fact that she isn't wearing any of the many things he's bought her, he smiles back.

Stepping onto the elevator, he walks sort of towards her, and then does this little swerve where he turns and stands at the complete opposite side. "I heard you got a promotion," he says.

Darcy is now an assistant web editor for the public relations department. She works on SHIELD's internet site and manages their social media properties. There's problem solving involved, design involved, and posting videos of the various Avengers butt's as they run down the hall on their way to missions involved - she's claiming she focused on their lower halves to preserve their secret identities. It's awesome. And it came with a hefty raise and tuition reimbursement if she chooses to go back to school.

As the door closes, she turns to him, still smiling wide. "Thanks to you."

Looking pleased, he tilts his head and looks at the floor. "You shouldn't discount your impressive presentation."

Is he deflecting her compliment? It's sweet, and she wants to hug him, even if his shellacked hair is really not her thing.

Raising his head he says, "So, it's the week before your feast of thanks giving. Are you going anywhere for the holiday?"

Darcy shakes her head. "Actually, no, I'm staying in town. My dad and his brother are coming up from New Mexico."

"Your mother?" asks Loki.

Darcy sags a little. "Oh, she...she passed away a few years ago." Right when Darcy had started college.

Loki's face falls. "I'm so sorry to hear that."

Darcy shrugs. "It's okay, really." Even if it isn't. Brightening, she says, "Actually, the reason they're coming here is because my brother is here and his wife just had a baby and no way will she get on a plane with a two week old."

Loki's eyes widen and his mouth quirks in a barely there smile, like she's just said the most wonderful thing in the world. "Another little Lewis!"

At that exact moment, the elevator stops, the door pings, and Thor gets on. By the way he's panting for breath, it sounds like he's been running. Nodding at Darcy, he glares at Loki and then stands right in-between them.

Ignoring the interruption, Loki leans around Thor's bulky frame and says, "Looking forward to being an aunt?"

Smiling in a way she knows makes her nose wrinkle, she says, "Yeah, actually, it's exciting."

"Yes, it always is," says Loki, still craning his neck to see around his brother.

And then all of a sudden, Darcy's staring at Thor's beefy back, and Thor is shouting at Loki in another language.

"I was just making polite conversation!" Loki says.

Thor reaches over and hits an elevator button. The elevator comes to a halt and Thor says, "Come, brother."

Looking livid, Loki barks something back, but he follows Thor down the hall.

"Bye," says Darcy. Thor doesn't turn around, just yells something at Loki. Loki does look back. He gives her a look that is all sorts of sad and sorrowful as the door closes.

It's too much. And too weird. But for once she's not thinking that it's Loki that's the weird one. Looking up at the ceiling, she says, "Hey, Jarvis, can you tell me what Thor just said?"

She's not allowed to waste Jarvis' time by asking him to run errands for her, but she can ask basic questions - and for translations. Stark Tower gets a lot of foreign visitors.

"That was Old Norse," Jarvis says. "And the closest translation would be, 'Loki, how dare you bring attention to the dishonor in the house of Odin!

"To which Loki replied, 'Compared to trying to take over their planet I'm sure this would be considered a small thing'.

"Thor's final words were, 'Remember your oath'."

"Huh." Shaking her head, she says to herself, "Seriously, is Thor having you keep tabs on me so he knows exactly when to interrupt?"

"Yes," says Jarvis.

Darcy hits the stop button on the elevator. "What?!"

"He has asked me to alert him whenever you are in Loki's vicinity."

Darcy blinks at the ceiling. "Does he have you do that for anyone else?"

"No," says Jarvis.

"Oh." Darcy swallows. How could talking about her family be in anyway related to dishonor in the house of Odin?

A/N:

Some Notes: Although the Art of War didn't make it to the West until the 1700s, it's been around since about 520 BC.

Loki says in the Lokasenna that he had an affair with Tyr's wife and that Tyr's son is actually his. Of course he may have been just talking shit. The weird thing about Loki in the myths, though, is that he doesn't actually lie very much - except when he's under oath to accomplish something.

If you like this, you'll LOVE my story, "I Bring the Fire", you can check out a free preview in My Stories.

As always, Reviews == Love