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Chapter Ten

Loki hadn't expected Darcy's outburst at all. Come to think of it, almost everything Darcy did was unexpected to him. She did not follow the regular social patterns of other mortals he'd observed, and she most certainly did not follow the Asgardian social patterns to which he was accustomed.

So when she'd confronted him and challenged him about his behaviour, he was taken off guard. He didn't know how to respond or even how to think about her words. His brain just told him he should probably agree if he wanted to appear normal.

When he was eventually alone that night, lying in her bed gazing at the dim white ceiling, he tried to take stock of his situation.

Things were a little clearer now – probably due to the coffee. Since arriving on Midgard, he'd been taken by the strange caffeinated substance. It seemed to alert his brain and remove the usual haze of confusion which draped itself about him as of late – even if it was only marginally. Now, in the quiet of the night with the buzz of caffeine still whirring in his mind, he was able to think clearly for the first time in weeks.

The first thing he wanted to decipher was Darcy. He'd initially thought her infatuated, which was why he had distanced himself with his depressive tendencies. Her little speech to Fury and Jane had made him cautious – if she truly thought of herself as his… partner… then that would make things very difficult.

He could not allow her to become too attached. As useful as it may seem, if she were to learn of his true motives, not only would her heart be broken, but the repercussions may prove too troublesome.

For instance, Loki knew she was prone to irrational, spontaneous behaviour, which could mean an emotional outburst of infantile proportions. Most probably it would include a confession to S.H.I.E.L.D. as well, which was the last thing he wanted.

He was more than certain now, however, that her advances were innocent. After trying in vain to keep out of her mind, Loki had spent a lot of time there over the past few days. He'd taken a keen interest in reading her strange almost intangible thoughts. She thought about her family a lot, and her friends; particularly Jane. Her thoughts regarding Stark and Rogers were interesting too, and hot topics as of late.

She also thought of Loki.

During the past week especially, her thoughts were trained on him like a bloodhound. However, much to his confused dismay, she was more concerned than infatuated. She had a strange tendency to lock down whenever he grew too bitter or furious, and would either avoid him or hate him or do both at the same time. When this occurred she grew very passionate in her aggression towards him.

However her passionate thoughts weren't in the sexual vein – they were murderous.

And so, particularly after their café outing, he'd allowed his mind to settle. She did not care for him in the way he'd thought, she was simply concerned about him in a selfish way. His behavioural patterns as of late were aggravating to her, and so she wanted him to recover simply so that she wasn't annoyed by him any further.

The revelation should have comforted him.

Not for the first time, he found himself getting up in the middle of the night to spy on her. Silently he would creep to sit down on the floor and watch her face whilst she slept. He knew not why he did it, he simply knew he enjoyed it. It gave him a peace he could not explain.

Loki let his eyes trail the contours of her face, along the line of her jaw and across her high cheekbones. He rested on her full lips, then her neck, feeling a strange urge to touch the pale milky skin there…

He stopped himself, moving his eyes back to stare at her dusky eyelids. Her face was set in a pose of pure relaxation. Prior to today, she'd been fretful in her sleep and would often wake to find him there, meaning he'd have to hex her in order for her to fall back to sleep. Her dreams too were troubled, and she would often wake up more exhausted than when she fell asleep.

He wondered if her anxiety had anything to do with his mood, but shooed the thought away. It had nothing to do with him. She was probably just moody herself, like so many other Midgardian females.

Now he was relieved to find her peaceful. A mirage of a smile tugged at her mouth, and he was mesmerized by the way her full lips moved infinitesimally. She was a fascinating creature.

What he wished to know was why he felt the need to study her. He was almost paranoid in his ownership of her – he knew already that he felt protective and possessive of her. He reasoned it was because she was an asset. His outrage at Fury was founded on fear for his asset, not for her wellbeing as a person.

But he still could not find an answer for his reaction with Stark. He'd followed her on both occasions when she'd visited him, and both times he'd had to employ all of his self-discipline in order not to kill the Iron Man where he stood.

The lunch date was a true test. The way Stark had looked at her, and touched her hand, was maddening. He knew from her thoughts that she did not feel anything for him, and was certain Stark was more infatuated with Miss Potts for anyone else to be remotely interesting to him, but still he was furious. No one touched his Darcy without his permission.

He suddenly realised he'd been stroking her hair, and he flinched away. His fingers ached to touch her smooth skin, but he resisted.

What is happening to me?

He decided to do some research on enchantments. Loki was beyond certain there was something ephemeral tampering with his mind – something which caused him to feel a certain way towards her. There was nothing else to explain this pathetic affection he felt.

And he was certain it had something to do with Darcy's abilities. She had been honest when he'd confronted her about it – her mind was truthful and open. She had no ulterior motives, no need to bewitch him.

And yet she did.

He hadn't felt this way about anyone in all his long years of existence. Not one of the ladies of the Asgardian court had caught his fancy. Of course there were multitudes who had wanted his attention, but they were either too vain to have a real reason, or too obsessed with his brother for it to be genuine.

Darcy was the opposite in so many ways – she was uninterested, humble and true.

He sighed, standing up gracefully to gaze down at her. He felt a pang of guilt as he saw her scrunched up on the small couch whilst he was able to lounge on her comfortable bed built for two.

Maybe I should invite her to sleep with m—

No. Bad idea.

Deciding it would be best for her to have a more comfortable sleeping arrangement, he lifted her up with his magic, gently allowing her to float across to the bedroom, and then laid her out on the sheets softly. She mumbled something as the magic wore off and she settled into the fabric, but soon fell still, her hands curled up like a child's on the pillow beside her face.

Such a sweet girl.

He watched her as he stood in the shadows, the curtains making strange shapes on his pale, perfect features. As her chest rose and fell gently, he wondered how different things would have been if he and his brother had switched places. So many times throughout his life, he'd asked himself that question. 'What if I were the first born?' 'What if I were the good guy?' 'What if people adored me instead of hated me…'

He was certain that if he were in Thor's position, he would have swept Darcy up in his arms and taken her far away from everything. He would make a life with her – a good and pure life, just for them. With no trickery or deceit, just a radiating peace which he saw so clear on her face. He would make it his life goal to bring her joy and peace for the rest of her days.

He scowled from the darkness.

But he was not Thor. He was Loki. The God of Mischief and Lies. The Prince of Trickery and Chaos. Wherever he went, destruction was sure to follow.

And as he stared into Darcy's perfect face he felt a chilling fear – that if he wasn't careful, Darcy too would fall under his destructive power. Everything he touched turned to dust.

He would not allow that fate to befall her.