Now Darcy had been to some snazzy hotels in her time, and she'd been to Stark Tower (now named the Avenger's Tower regardless of the name on the lease), a place that just screamed omg-I-have-money-and-love-toys, but all of that paled in comparison to how elegant, beautiful and well, gaudy—if she was being completely honest—Asgard was turning out to be. Everywhere she looked was gold, gold, gold, gleaming and glittering as the sun rose higher into the sky, the blue above accented by a couple of planets that definitely didn't seem to belong up there, but what the hell did she know about alien astronomy. Mountains that had rose in the distance disappeared as she and Gunnar—he'd corrected her when she called him Jack—moved into the city. It was all impressive and overwhelming, even when some less flashy structures started breaking through the splendor.
They passed through streets lined with stone houses all old-school medieval style, every sidewalk littered with people coming out to do whatever it was Asgardian's did during a normal work week. Did they even have work weeks; business hours? Darcy was having a hard time deciding where to throw her attention, the sensory overload starting to get to her now that the noise level was slowly but surely rising. This must be what culture shock feels like. She opted to stare down at the street as they walked instead, hugging herself to ward off the shivers, although they were thankfully growing less prominent as the day warmed. The street was paved with white stones, and Darcy started to count them as they went along to keep from gawking and wandering off. Five hundred give or take a few—so she got distracted once or twice. Sue me—stones later they stopped at the entrance of what could only be the huge castle-palace-building-place that she'd seen peeking out from somewhere in the center of the city. Looks like somebody's compensating…
Her eyes followed tall pillars as they reached up to soaring, golden, arched ceilings, the space between each pillar filled by human-shaped giants in armor. Each one was gilded and intimidating in a way that reminded Darcy of the metal-monster that nearly wiped Puente Antiguo off the map, only more stylish and ready for war. Trying to ignore the memory of fear she mumbled, "This place totally belongs in an episode of Cribs."
"Pardon?" Gunnar asked, looking down at her.
"Yeah I know it wasn't that great a show, but damn did some of those dudes have nice places and this, this place is rockin'."
"You say such strange things." He noted, staring at her curiously.
Darcy grinned and flashed him a wink, "Just wait 'til I get a few drinks in me, then I'll really start the verbal vomit."
"That sounds most unpleasant."
"Eh, Cap said the same thing. Maybe it's me." She pursed her lips in what was supposed to be thoughtful contemplation, but she knew full well it was her. People had told her so her whole damn life. Gunnar didn't have to know that though. He shook his head.
"Come, I shall take you to the guards and request an audience with the king."
Darcy had more than one preconceived notion of how royal bureaucracies worked, so she was a little dumbfounded when they were called into the throne room of Odin-holy-shit-it's-like-a-god-god-himself less than ten minutes after their arrival. Gunnar spit into his hand and smoothed the saliva back through his hair, but all Darcy could do was drip all over the floor, her sneakers squeaking with every step as they were ushered inside across the smooth floor.
At least she wasn't surprised at how overdone the throne room was. It was ginormous and—surprise, surprise—gold with more gold and gold filigree on the side. On the floor was some gnarly symbol that could have made an awesome tattoo, but as much as she wanted to ogle the rest of the chamber, Darcy couldn't resist the pull of the man sitting in front of them. Her eyes were glued to his face as they walked slowly up the middle of the room, despite the fact that it was fuzzy and didn't look like anything more than a peach splotch with white fuzz on top. But seriously, she wouldn't have even cracked a freaking smile if he'd a broken out with "I am the great and powerful OZ!" Dude was that impressive, and that was without even being able to see any of his facial expressions yet.
Odin, because obviously who else could it have been, sat on the throne like a man who was waiting for death to come knocking on his door. The closer they got the clearer Darcy's impression of him became, both in the literal sense that she could see him and the less literal sense that hung around his aura. It was a vibe, man. But vibes aside, his skin looked wane and sagging, as if he hadn't eaten right for some time, and there were dark circles under his eyes that suggested a severe lack of sleep. He looked wearier than she felt, and that was saying something since she hadn't had this much exertion since running for her life back in Greenwich thirty plus days ago. They stopped a few feet from the stairs leading up to his chair, and Gunnar cleared his throat, plainly nervous. She wanted to pat him on the shoulder or something and give a pep talk, but that probably wasn't entirely appropriate to do in front of a king.
"Speak Gunnar Sindrison. What news have you of my son?" Odin's voice, in spite of his appearance, was strong and firm as it echoed through the room. With acoustics this good it's a crime they don't have concerts in here. Maybe they do; Thor and the Sons of Odin could be a sweet band name.
"All-father," Gunnar started, and when Darcy looked back up at the throne she found Odin staring down at her, his eyes like hard flint and his expression unreadable. Killer poker face there, dude. "I come to you with strange tidings. Beside me stands Darcybeelewis of Midgard. She has knowledge of Thor and mentioned some portal linking her world to ours. I thought it best to bring her to you straight away."
There was a moment of heavy silence, something Darcy really wasn't a fan of because it just brought back memories of awkward family dinners, before Odin's voice boomed, "Is this true, mortal child of Midgard?"
Put on the spot, Darcy's nasty habit of being mouthier than normal flared up, a common side effect of being nervous or threatened. She couldn't help it, she really couldn't. It had led to many fights in her younger years, more detentions than she could count, and one arrest because damn it all if she was going to wait at a broken red light in non-existent 3AM traffic; the cop had disagreed and it had only escalated from there, but she still swore to anyone who would listen that her foot slipped onto the gas pedal by mistake. At least she'd been a minor at the time.
"Um, which part?" She asked before nodding her head and looking around the room, "And by the way, digging the bling, a little over the top but I get it; keeping up with the Joneses and all that."
Both Odin and Gunnar were staring at her the way her mother always did whenever they were in public and she'd say something particularly embarrassing. She blamed it all on her dad; he didn't have a great filter either. Gunnar at least, had enough shame to bow his head and stare at the floor, but Darcy, well, she was about as shameless as they came, so she only grinned up at Odin like they were old pals. Might as well make her first impression with the god of gods a lasting one, right?
"How did you arrive in Asgard?" Odin asked at last. He was taking the high road apparently, and Darcy was a little curious as to why he didn't ask about Thor first, at least until she connected the dots that he was like the president so it was politics first and personal later. Pfft, politicians really are all the same no matter where you go.
"Fell down the allegorical rabbit hole." She answered, having decided that without an actual rabbit it definitely could not be literal.
"Explain." Odin commanded, the edge of annoyance lining his tone not missed by the only two other people in the room.
Darcy felt one of her eyebrows arch upward, which was never a good sign for her tongue, "Okay well when Malik-what's-his-face attacked with his big ship and all that aether jazz it opened all these freaky portals to other worlds that shit—sorry—stuff or whatever kept popping in and out of. Too crazy, but anyway, after it was all over there were some anomaly traces left over and we—well I, since nobody else was willing to walk apparently—was trying to make sure none of those portal things were still open cause hello, super hazardous, amIright. Guess we missed one though cause boom, in I fall and splash," and yes, she made all the matching hand motions just to emphasize the insanity, "right into your pool 'til burley pirate here fished me out." Guess that makes me—wait for it—a carpy. She kept the laughter at her own genius internal of course, the only betrayal hidden in a twitch on the corner of her lip.
"And what of Thor?" The edge was still there.
This part felt a little trickier. Thor hadn't been exactly talkative about what had gone on the last time he'd seen his father, but she got the impression that his relationship with Jane was more than frowned on. Also, something about absconding from the throne or something, but he'd been talking into a whiskey glass so she may have misheard. All she knew in the end was that Thor was on earth and after a few nights of major drinking and celebrations he and Jane had snuck off to New York, leaving her and Erik to clean up the mess. She definitely couldn't tell Odin where Thor was staying, and she even considered lying about Jane altogether. Would he believe it if she said the scientist had died? Trying to buy some time to collect her thoughts she answered with a smile.
"What about him?"
Odin it seemed, had less patience than his son. His fist slammed down onto the arm of his throne, the boom ringing across the room as the king shouted. "Where is my son?"
This time both of Darcy's eyebrows crept upward after she'd jumped in surprise. She lifted both hands in defense, her heart pounding despite the calm across her face, "Chill out majesty; he's cool, he's safe okay? He's on Earth—Midgard—whatever. We're taking care of him."
After a deep pause, Darcy wondering all the while whether or not she'd be hauled off to the dungeons for mouthing the king, Odin turned his stare to the man who had brought her here. "Gunnar, son of Sindri; leave us."
Without another word, not even a goodbye or how's your mother, the man that Darcy had been sort of kind of depending on to get her home fell to one knee, put his hand to his chest, then rose and strode away all in the span of fifteen seconds. Odin's eyes moved to hers again, and they both kept silent as Gunnar's footsteps echoed into the distance until they disappeared altogether. Holy shit, Thor's dad is totally going to kill me. This is so not how I pictured my day ending…
"My son," Odin started again, his voice much softer than before, "he is well?"
"Yeah, totally." Darcy answered in a rush, eager to please the guy now that her meat shield had left her high and dry.
Some of the tension he'd been holding seemed to leak away and his shoulders sagged. He looked so much older now; so much sadder. Darcy frowned, feeling like she was missing some essential piece of the puzzle here. Weren't kings supposed to be in-your-face awesome and tall and regal and intimidating as hell? This guy didn't seem to have many more fights left in him. She resisted the urge to give him a pep talk too.
"Does he still court the mortal woman, Jane?"
Darcy bit her lip. What to say, what to say? "Yeah I don't know about all that, never really hang around his love den or anything. You know?"
"I feared…" Odin's voice trailed off, his eyes growing distant. Darcy recognized the look of somebody spacing out; hell, she could feel the look cause she did it all the damn time.
"He's doing good. You shouldn't worry about it too much. I'm sure he'll check in with ya soon enough."
Odin's eyes focused again, and Darcy could feel him weighing not only her, but her words. It felt like she was standing trial, but a second later the feeling passed and he gave a small nod of acceptance. "Tell me of this portal."
She was okay with the change of topic, at least she didn't have to lie—or rather omit—this portion; she only had to risk sounding stupid instead. That didn't bother her though. She wasn't really all that ashamed at her lack of scientific expertise; her talents were elsewhere. That in mind, she tried to explain it all as best she could using terms that Jane and Erik had tossed around the room like they were playing some smartass version of baseball, only with words, while Darcy played the slow ref who kept calling homeruns, fouls.
"So yeah," she finished with a deep breath, "temporal pockets of energy or something and I just fell through."
Odin's face was pensive as he'd listened to her ramble on, but when she finished he gave another nod. "Very well. We shall take measures to close this portal before more harm can come, and—"
"I can go home?" Darcy cut in, too hopeful to second guess at how stupid it might be to interrupt a god-king.
His eyes narrowed in a, should-I-kill-you-or-let-this-slide, kind of way, and Darcy held her breath until he answered, "Yes."
Without warning, Odin lifted the scepter he'd been holding in his right hand and brought it back down onto the floor, the clear ring of metal on stone resonating across the room like a wave. Darcy's head turned when the door behind them opened with a groan. A solitary figure strode inside, and as the door closed and she drew nearer—bitch was walking fast—Darcy could tell it was a woman, but not just any woman. She'd seen this lady before back in New Mexico, one of Thor's friends although she couldn't come up with a name. Long brown hair, strict eyes and an outfit straight out of Tolkien's brain; this was the chick willing to face down a metal monster.
"Lady Sif," Odin called out as the woman reached Darcy's side. The warrior-woman fell to a knee and put a fisted hand to her chest just as Gunnar had. "You will escort this mortal to Heimdall so that he may return her home."
"As you wish, All-father." She answered, rising up to her feet again before looking at Darcy. "Follow me."
Darcy sure was getting tired to being bossed around; she got enough of that with Jane and Erik, and now she could add aliens to the list of people who didn't seem to care about her opinion or thoughts. Still, she wasn't really in a position to argue, what with the offer to take her home extended already, so she nodded, following after the woman who started walking away not a second later. Darcy gave one last backward glance to the king who seemed so sad before they walked out of the throne room.
