Loki's hands were clenched as he stared at the staircase that led down to the holding cells. Darcy was standing beside him, hands folded protectively over her stomach.

The god's seething and worrying was interrupted by a much warmer hand sliding into his. He looked up to find Darcy staring at him.

"We've got this, Mischief." She grinned halfheartedly. He nodded.

"If anything goes wrong, you run like Hel, do you understand?" he spoke lowly.

"Yes. But am I going to listen? Probably not." She sang, squeezing his hand and letting go before starting forward into the hallway of murderous monsters.

Loki nearly groaned out loud in frustration; his wife (yes, he was far too addicted to the sound of that), was incorrigible.

"Yo, Sigyn," he heard her bark just as he caught up to her.

"Darcy," he warned under his breath.

"Oh, Lady Lewis, wife of Loki, pleasure to meet you." Sigyn drawled. Darcy smiled sarcastically.

"I'd say the same…but lying's Loki's job." She shrugged indifferently. "Heyo, so first off I'd like to sincerely say," Loki almost flinched. Gods no. "Screw you. You aren't touching my kid." Her ironic smile never faltered. Sigyn arched an eyebrow at having been talked to like a mere commoner. "Secondly, what do you want from her?" she asked, sounding slightly more vulnerable as her fingers moved over the fabric of the dress covering her unborn baby…frost giant…whatever she was.

Loki clenched his jaw. Sigyn fed of vulnerability.

A menacing smile curled at Sigyn's lips and she stood off the gilded couch in the corner. Loki fought the urge to yank Darcy away from the magically enforced glass and watched as his wife squared her shoulders and tensed her arms around herself in another subconscious act of protection.

"Do you not recall the tales of the Vanir? Gods and goddesses with the gift of foresight? She who hath the eyes of gold shall seest Ragnarok's approach before the downfall it shall reap among the Aesir. Have you truly forgotten the prophecy? One who controls such a Vanir," Sigyn stressed excitedly. Loki moved nearer to his wife unconsciously who was growing more and more pale with every word. "Would possess the knowledge of Ragnarok's arrival. Such power would be…immeasurable. Your daughter is the Vanir." Sigyn concluded. "I intend to possess her power. Seest thou this keen bright sword, that I hold now in my hand? Before it's blade the giant bends." Sigyn laughed manically as a sword indeed materialized in her palms. "I strike thy daughter with my gambantein to tameth her to work my will."

Loki hissed in savage anger, all but shoving Darcy into the wall behind him to get her as far away from his ex wife as was possible.

"I swear by the gods that I will kill you before you touch my wife or child. Whilst I am still breathing, you will not live to see another sunrise shall any harm befall my family." He whispered with so much menacing conviction that Darcy was almost afraid of his wrath. Almost.

"She will be mine, my dear husband." She drawled, placing her palm on the magic enforced glass.

"Burn in Hel." He spat at her, taking a step back and whirling on his heel to check on Darcy, suddenly realizing the extent of how rough he was with her. "Are you alright, love?" he asked, still looking murderously angry. Darcy nodded. "We're leaving." He said sharply, leaving no room for argument.

"Do you not wish to know the way in which this child was conceived?" Sigyn whispered just as they were almost out of the corridor. Loki faltered in his steps while Darcy skidded to a full blown halt, spinning around fast enough to give Loki whiplash and stalking back to the cell of the woman who wanted to kidnap her baby. A brutal smile stretched across Sigyn's face at the look of anger and curiosity on the no longer mortal's face.

"How?" Darcy growled simply.

Sigyn addressed Loki without answering the girl.

"Nari was conceived in the same way all those centuries ago. It pains me to see that this too you have forgotten." She frowned.

"I am rumored to have many children Sigyn. None of which are true; not the serpent, nor the horse or dog, and certainly not any offspring of yours." He countered coldly.

"You are mistaken, my king. One of these so called rumors is in fact, true. The since deceased and notorious demon of the dead was, truly, our son." Darcy froze. "He was conceived in the same way that your daughter was." She gestured to Darcy through the glass. "Frjósa þreyja." She said quietly.

Darcy could almost hear Loki's teeth snap together and suddenly she was being forcefully dragged away and up the stairs, and through the hall to his green and gold bedroom. It wasn't until the door was slammed shut that Loki released her and began pacing.

The brunette goddess sat down on the edge of the bed and watched him silently as he paced back and forth, anger rolling off him in waves.

It wasn't until he overturned his beautiful wooden book shelf, cracking it into hundreds of wooden splinters and spilling a fraction of his books across the wooden floor that Darcy decided to intervene.

"Mind telling me why you're brooding all Beauty and the Beast style?" she asked, quirking an eyebrow. "All the pacing and scowling and growling, good god." She groaned, rolling her eyes. He smirked at her a little bit before his angered expression returned.

"If Sigyn tells the truth, and I believe she does, then this was in fact my fault." He spoke quietly. Darcy stood up and slowly made her way towards his stiff body.

"How?" she prompted when he showed no signs of explaining. "Because I'm pretty sure it takes two to tango if you know what I mean." She grumbled.

"Not on Jotunheim." He sighed, still facing away from her. "Jotun's have a unique ability to…ah…impregnate a partner without engaging in…" he cleared his throat awkwardly. "Well, certain activities." He turned to face her, eyes cast downwards towards his hands. "Frjósa þreyja." He murmured vacantly. "It allows a Frost Giant bring into existence a child if both parties do so desire." Darcy slid her hands over his and tilted her head to put herself in his line of sight. "That day, after Amora captured us," he started. "I allowed my Jotun blood to freeze the hands I used to soothe your broken bones." He remembered aloud.

Darcy sighed and stood on her toes to wrap her arms around his neck.

"What is this I hear about a horse?" she drawled evilly in his ear. Loki laughed loudly and shook his head, wrapping his arms around her waist and lifting her off the floor.

The God of Mischief dropped Darcy on the bed and smirked at her, holding his weight off as he kissed her.

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