Chapter 34 - Consequences
Nothing was as unnerving as facing three cloaked, faceless figures who were about to measure the worth of your soul.
Darcy couldn't help the way she was sweating into her patent pumps, not while she was stood awaiting whatever it was the Norns were going to do. All she'd heard was that ambiguous statement about her soul, and then been shoved up onto the podium in front of them. It was like an entire panel made from Mistress Death's equally creepy cousins—even their voices had that eerie bone-across-rock effect. The chamber itself didn't help, a dark courtroom at the base of the palace which appeared to have been carved directly out of bedrock and furnished very simply with benches for the witnesses
"Darcy of Midgard," they intoned as one, and Darcy bit her lip to control her shudder while she nodded in agreement that, yes, that's who she was. "You stand before us to today to speak your truth about Loki, prince of this realm, on the matter of treason and invasion. First we must judge the worth of your words."
Darcy nodded again, aware that her eyes were probably wide enough to show the whites all the way around.
"Then we will begin."
Nothing happened at first. Darcy stood there for a full minute, wondering if it was impolite to step out of the shoes which were already making her calves ache, before she registered the low buzz. She turned her head to find the source of it and noticed the air shimmering around the podium, warping out of focus like she had streaks of dirt on her glasses—except she was wearing contacts. Bands of light writhed around her and she yipped, searching the chamber for the reassuring gaze of Frigga.
Frigga was sat in the front row of those witnessing the trial and she gave Darcy an encouraging smile, though it didn't make Darcy feel anymore calm. This probably wasn't meant to hurt, but what if the average Asgardian could cope with was vastly different to what Darcy had the tolerance for?
The bands contracted, whipping across her skin, and she yelped again. Later she'd be ashamed, especially since the only effect was a faint tingling that might have been pleasant if she'd been expecting it. Then they constricted further, biting into her, and though she kept silent out of shock, it definitely earned a cry or two. Was this what being electrocuted felt like? But the lights had already passed through her and now emerged on the other side, massing beside the podium to create a Darcy-shaped illusion in the air of flickering orbs. They flashed orange, then evaporated.
She had no idea what that meant, and when she twisted to look at Frigga again didn't get much of a reading from her either. Was orange good? Bad? Was that the testing even done, or was there more weirdness to come?
It turned out that was the testing over, and the Norns didn't seem bothered about elaborating on the result of the test. Instead, they got right down to it.
"Tell us of your dealings with Loki."
"All of them?" she asked. "I thought there would be specific questions—"
"Tell us all of it, and we will determine what is relevant and what we must discard."
"O-okay." She glanced around the chamber, aware of the number of witnesses, and began her story in halting, rambling detail. Some parts she skipped over and others she felt she needed to elaborate on, those shadowed voids under the hoods not giving her much of a response to gauge how well she was doing. Did they want more detail, or were they getting bored? Water was brought for her to sip as she spoke, and the hours passed as she spun her tale. She got to the point of kicking of her shoes early on, bad manners or not, and only really faltered when it came to explaining what she'd seen in Loki's head when they were in Death's realm.
At the end of it, the Norns spoke as one again. "Thank you, Darcy of Midgard. Your testimony will be considered when the time comes."
It was a dismissal if she'd ever heard one. She slipped her shoes back on and hobbled down in the direction of Frigga.
The dowager queen was the only face she recognized in the Norns' chamber—Thor couldn't attend, too busy with his new duties, and everyone from Earth had already gone home, taking the borrowed horses with them. Even Jane had returned to make sure the new portal was calibrated and functioning stably.
"Was that alright?" Darcy asked as Frigga took her arm and led her out of the chamber.
"I don't see why not. I think the orange is a good signal and that means your words will carry some weight with them."
"You think? You mean you don't know?"
"The Norns are, quite literally, a law unto themselves. We don't question their ways and trust that they will get to the truth. They always do. But to my ears it seemed you told the full story, good and bad, and that is likely to mean more to them than if you had only tried to focus on the good."
"Except I'm sure everyone is going to focus on the bad," Darcy grumbled.
"Perhaps they will. Perhaps the Norns will look at their souls and discount their words. We can only wait and see."
The trial was expected to take weeks, if not months. Anyone who wanted to say their piece on Loki could stand in front of the Norns, and that fact had been advertised across the realms, so there were prospective witnesses from both Asgard and Earth, and likely further afield. Even Fury had been…was subpoenaed the right word? He'd definitely been summoned as a key representative of Earth. Thor would speak later, though Frigga had opted not to testify on Loki's behalf, since to do so was in conflict with her position of trust within the realm. Thor would speak the good and the bad of it like Darcy had, but Frigga was too driven by maternal instinct to say a bad word against her youngest, and that would sour her subject's opinion of her.
Loki himself would go last. After hearing everyone's accusations and recollections, he would be able to spend several days justifying what he'd done. Darcy wondered what color his lights would be.
Darcy was glad her part was over, if nothing else. She wouldn't be recalled, and there was no cross-examination, so she could wait for the judgment. In the meantime she'd be accompanying Fury home after he'd delivered his own testimony the next day. She could have stuck around to watch the whole thing, but what would she really learn from that? She needed to get back to her old life and start rebuilding it.
"Has Director Fury arrived?" Darcy asked Frigga as they reached the upper levels of the palace, where the living quarters were.
"Yes, some hours ago. He declined a tour of the kingdom or to dine with us."
"Don't take it personally," said Darcy. "He's a suspicious guy. He'll want to test all the food for poison."
"Such is the spy's lot."
They swept into the room Frigga preferred to dine in, with its vastly smaller table than the banqueting hall, and sweeping vistas over the city.
"Do I hear Fury is in Asgard?" said Loki from behind them, and for the third or fourth time that day Darcy yelped.
"Loki!" Frigga admonished. "You are meant to be in your quarters until the judgment is delivered."
"These are the royal quarters, are they not, mother?" Loki took a place at the table. "And if I am confined any longer I fear I will be compelled to break out just for the entertainment of it. Ah, roast swine! My favorite—although have you considered that Darcy cannot eat it?"
That made Darcy falter in taking her own seat, and Frigga to raise a questioning eyebrow in her direction.
"He's right," she conceded. "I don't know how he's right, but he's right."
"That and shellfish," Loki agreed with a nod. "I'll draw up a full list."
"But I can eat all this other stuff, it's fine," Darcy said, grabbing a plate and beginning to fill it. She was still thrown that Loki somehow knew that pig wasn't kosher, when this had never come up in all their time on Plum Island. Then again—had there ever been problems with the food there? She cast her mind back but couldn't remember him ever serving anything she wouldn't eat.
He watched her puzzle over this, and the smile he wore was less self-satisfied than she might have expected. But it meant that he really had paid attention to the details of her life, all those months ago.
"But back to the subject of the suspicious old director," he continued, "I was wondering if perhaps we should offer him father's collection of eyepatches. They're rather more decorative than his own."
Darcy couldn't help it. Between Frigga's exasperated tut and Loki's butter-wouldn't-melt expression at the suggestion, she snorted. And that snort became giggles. Later she'd blame relief at her part in the trial being over, rather than Loki's joke actually being worthy of so much laughter, but it felt good to let loose and giggle all the same.
If she expected self-satisfaction from Loki this time, she was further disappointed at the soft, awed look on his face instead. When she caught his eye, she looked away, amazed to find herself blushing.
"As if I needed any incentive to make you laugh as often as possible," he murmured, "I have certainly found it."
Frigga cleared her throat and the conversation moved along while Darcy scarfed her food down as politely as she could manage. It had been a stressful day and the palace cooks were phenomenal at their jobs.
Only at the end did Loki's side of the conversation turn more sober.
"I know Fury speaks tomorrow," he said, "and I'm sure this will be seen as influencing him unduly—but politics are politics and if any man understands that, he does. I would speak with him tonight. I have information of value to him."
Frigga and Darcy exchanged curious looks. "What kind of information?" Frigga asked cautiously.
"The kind I know he will want to hear."
"Very well." Frigga considered this for a moment. "I will arrange an audience in your brother's presence within the hour."
Darcy was torn between wanting to know what the information was, and leaving Asgard behind in blissful ignorance. Frigga decided for her, keeping her talking after dinner until it was time to meet in the antechamber near the throne room that Thor liked to use for these sort of meetings.
If Fury was surprised when Loki showed his face, he was better at concealing his feelings than even Loki was. Instead, he rolled his eye when Thor gestured for Loki to come forth, and his stance didn't change, though Darcy was sure the way he grasped his hands behind his back was to make it easier to get to any weapons he had on him.
"I should've known," he groused.
Loki raised his hands in fake surrender. "I am not here to continue our hostilities. I merely wish to crystallize something I'm sure you already have your suspicions about."
Fury's eye narrowed. "I'm interested. What's the catch?"
"No catch. It is not within my power or yours to prevent you from speaking before the Norns. But perhaps this will niggle at my conscience if I do not disclose it, and that would not aid me at all when I have to stand before them."
"Go on."
"Do not trust Pierce or his pet project. The rot goes deeper than you fear—right to the core of SHIELD, and beyond. It's been there from the beginning. The many headed beast infiltrated at the very start."
The first part seemed to be where Fury's suspicions already lay, whoever Pierce was. But the second part—that had him shaken. "You can't mean—"
"I have no idea how embracing Zola was meant to be a wise choice, but there we are. You invited the snakes inside and they made themselves at home."
Fury considered this. "And here I was hoping to announce my retirement. In that case, I have my own gambit to offer which ought to please one of you more than the other: I don't think Ms Lewis should return to Earth."
"What?" Darcy sat bolt upright, though Loki didn't speak, cocking his head to one side instead.
"I can't guarantee your safety," Fury said to her. "Things have shifted while you've been in Asgard—it's going to take some time to smooth them over."
"I don't get it—what things?" She was a nobody. Who could be after her now Loki was gone?
"Have you heard of Eva Braun?"
Darcy's stomach dropped at the comparison. "Of course. But that's—I'm nothing like her!"
Fury shrugged. "SHIELD aren't in control of the narrative around you. There's too much of the story that's classified for us to clarify what's out there in the press. The interest in Loki's trial is intense. People have gone digging and found enough leads to spin their own yarns, whether it's the truth or not. Nobody knows about what you did to protect Earth, but they will hear that you went first and spoke in Loki's defense. We're getting your family into protective custody but if you come home with me tomorrow, I'll have to put you in witness protection."
"What does that mean?" Loki asked, his voice low enough to sound dangerous.
"She'll get a whole new identity and have to make a fresh start. No contact with anyone she knows."
"What about Jane?" asked Darcy.
"Especially not Doctor Foster. She's under a lot of scrutiny right now and nothing would give you away faster."
"So those are my options? I stay here, or I go home and into hiding?"
"For now. But given enough time, we can take back control of the narrative. When it's safe you can come back. That's why I think you should stay here. Less strain on my resources, more chance of you actually staying under the radar."
"I—shit, okay, I'll think about it. Tomorrow."
"Give it a couple of days," Fury advised. "I'm used to debriefings, and I've got a lot to say about Loki—I'm going to be talking for some time."
What Darcy did was closer to wallowing than thinking. She remained in her allocated quarters, even taking her meals there, enjoying the view from the balcony but refusing to step further outside. She didn't want anybody influencing her decision making, and had a yearning for complete solitude. How long had it been since she'd had that? Months and months—probably since that day she left her little studio apartment in New York behind. Even when she'd been in Loki's captivity there had been people around, or his own presence lurking to emerge at any moment. Now she had peace and quiet, and as many minutes as she wanted to turn the entire mess over in her head.
She'd assumed, naively, that Sif's change in attitude to her would be mirrored by anybody else who knew her role in everything that had gone down. Mostly, she'd expected to be overlooked, with the Avengers taking the glory for saving the world again, allowing her to slip back into her old life with minimal fuss. Now that illusion was completely shattered, and it was only just dawning on her that she couldn't go back. Her life would never be the same. She had to carve a new one, one way or the other.
On the second morning of her wallowing, one of the palace attendants delivered a note from Earth. Darcy recognized Jane's handwriting straight away—she must have tossed it through the portal while working on it, ready to be plucked out of the air by Heimdall. She smiled as she imagined his expression at being made to play messenger like that.
She took the note to her balcony to read it, tipping her face into the sunshine to absorb some of it before she smoothed the paper out and hunched over to read.
Darcy — Fury was supposed to bring this but somehow "forgot" it. Anyway, I know he's given you a choice. It's a bullshit choice and you shouldn't have to face it. Don't forget you have all of the Avengers on your side. They know the truth and will speak out for you. Come home and we'll fight it together.
Her friend's words should have had a greater impact on Darcy. Sure, she could go back to Earth and face the world. With Stark Industries' resources on her side, and Stark Tower as her shelter once more, she could weather the storm.
But she was tired. So tired of it all.
If her options were vitriol on Earth, or the peace and glory of Asgard, she'd happily choose the latter. For now, at least.
She'd made that decision before Loki decided to break into her chambers. She'd been expecting him since she slipped away after Fury's news, ignoring the pleas of the Asgardian royal family to discuss the issue with them. That it had taken him over a day to actually do it showed a measure of restraint she'd not thought him capable of.
"I come with an offer of my own," he announced, and instead of being jolted at his presence, she rolled her head back and sighed.
"I already decided to stay here, you don't need to try and bribe me."
"You misunderstand." He crossed the floor to join her at the table in the sunshine. If anyone saw him on the balcony it would cause alarm, but Darcy suspected this was going to look a lot like she was talking to herself. "My offer is not an enticement to keep you here on Asgard."
"Oh?" It seemed he did still have the ability to surprise her. "This I gotta hear."
"You have chosen Asgard because it is the easier path, correct?" She nodded. "Not because you have any great desire to stay here, despite its pretty spires and ample attractions. It is not your home. But to return to Midgard represents too great a battle while you wait for your own kind to turn on you."
"That about sums it up."
"I can make them forget your part in all of this."
"By 'them', you mean—"
"Everyone on Midgard, or close enough. I cannot rewrite history, but there are illusions powerful enough to make them forget why they're interested in Darcy Lewis. You would be able to return home, and you would be safe. Nobody would want to harm you—they'd have no reason to."
"You could do that?"
"I would have to call in some favors, but yes, I could do it."
That sounded ominous. She wondered if he meant the kind of favors that led to him walking into Death's kingdom. "What would it cost you?"
He hesitated. Their gazes locked, his brow furrowing as he considered his answer, and for a moment she was sure he was going to say "you". She could almost see it forming on his tongue, that one word, that deep slice of honesty. But instead he changed tack, answering the question she'd actually asked. "Nothing that it isn't worth paying."
"Loki—"
"I would survive. And with mother's help, creating the illusion might not even be that bad." His lightness of tone suggested it was unlikely. It was a big illusion—Darcy might not understand how they worked but she could imagine it would take a lot of power and skill.
"Why would you even do that?" she asked. "I've already spoken in front of the Norns."
His mouth twisted into the closest thing he'd worn to a smirk in a while, but not a true one. This was a distant echo of the real thing, a tired and stilted imitation. "Not everything should be done to curry favor with them. No—guilt is probably the simplest answer. Guilt, and love."
"You love me so you're willing to let me go?" She regretted the question as soon as she asked it—she'd felt the weight of his feelings for her, so she had no room to doubt them.
"Yes." He was so quiet as he undercut her barbed question. "Precisely."
"Why—do you think that I'll be so thankful that one day I come back to you?" She kept her own words quiet now. It wasn't an accusation, or way of throwing the offer back in his face, but a genuine need to dig into his motivations.
"No, Darcy, I don't expect that at all. I may be a monster, and I may be as addled as they like to paint me, but I'm not a fool. If I did this and you returned to Midgard I would not expect to see you again. Rather, that's the point. You are better off without me and you cannot be happy with me, it's as simple as that. It's time I accepted that truth and let you go where you can find happiness. That is what I want for you, Darcy Lewis. Happiness. With me or without me."
"Wow." She sat back in her chair, turning to stare a the city below them again, away from the intensity of his stare. "That's definitely not what I was expecting."
He spread his hands elegantly. "I live to surprise."
"Tell me about it." She was lost, her original decision now muddied. "I don't know what to do," she admitted.
"Take my offer," he urged, though he rose as he did so. "It's the only one which makes any kind of sense—let's bring an end to this. Fury will return to depart at sunset. I trust you will be ready to leave with him."
When she glanced up, Loki was already gone.
Sunsets on Asgard tended to put the ones on Earth to shame. Their sun wasn't a distant smudge that disappeared over the horizon, but instead a giant fiery ball which painted the sky in streaks of candle-flame colors. The veil of night, its rich indigo studded with myriad, glittering stars, chased it down over the edge of the water until only starlight remained. It always drew Darcy's attention to the Bifrost stretching out into that water, ending in the golden orb which would ferry her home.
This sunset, she went down to meet Fury as he made his preparations to leave, in a private stable which opened out onto the Bifrost. A horse—a big chestnut stallion—was saddled up and ready for him, with a smaller mare being brushed down by the grooms. For her, Darcy presumed.
Fury acknowledged her presence with a terse nod but didn't let his opinion about it known. "Guess you need that horse saddling."
"Actually, no." She reached into the deep pocket of the gown she was wearing and retrieved the scrolls she'd brought with her, handing it over. "Can you take these with you?"
They were labeled with the names of the various people she'd set down words for: Jane, Natasha, her parents, her friends… By the end of it she'd almost been proficient with a quill and inkwell.
"Is this a permanent thing?" Fury inquired, tucking the scrolls discreetly into one of his bags.
"Probably not. But like you said, it'll be easier if I wait until things have been smoothed over."
Fury eyeballed her for a moment, then broke into a grin. "Allow me to savor this moment. Someone's actually taking my advice! You have no idea how rare that is."
"Savor it as much as you want. You won't be seeing me for a while."
"No offense, but I'm happy about that."
Darcy left him to return to the royal quarters, but instead of going to her own rooms, she sought out another set. Ones she'd not been in yet.
They weren't hard to find: the only doors with guards posted outside. They were doing that thing the soldiers in the fuzzy hats did at Buckingham Palace, standing to attention and refusing to be distracted by the world around them. It made it easy for Darcy to slip up to the door and, when she wasn't challenged, knock on it with a shrug.
The occupant wasn't expecting visitors, but then, why would he be? Loki's scowl when he opened the door, obviously expecting an unpleasant summons, melted into soft surprise.
"Is this goodbye?"
"I'm not going anywhere. I'm staying right here on Asgard for the time being."
His eyes widened. "I don't understand."
"Pretty sure that's my usual line," she teased. "You need to get your own." When he didn't respond beyond blinking at her, she gestured. "Can I come inside? We have an audience."
He stepped aside to let her through, and the guards didn't challenge her as she crossed the threshold—they only seemed concerned with keeping Loki inside. Shame they were doing such a poor job of it overall.
Loki closed the door as Darcy took in her surroundings, which seemed to consist of a large, gloomy chamber, lit only by one solitary candle on a desk on the opposite wall. Heavy drapes covered the window and looked like they hadn't been opened in a long time. Towering doors opened onto other rooms, with this appearing to be a living room and study, lined with bookshelves, and the main furniture in the center being enormous, overstuffed sofas. It wasn't as neat as she'd expected it to be, with parchment spilling from the desk onto the floor and one chair overturned onto its side.
As if following her gaze, Loki hurried to the chair and righted it. "I wasn't expecting visitors," he muttered sheepishly.
She waved it off. "I didn't give you any warning. Pretty sure you saw my old apartment at its worst."
"Not at all. It was quite charming, from what I recall. There was so much of your personality in such a small space—it was easy to imagine what kind of person you were."
That had her curious. "Did I match up to what you'd imagined?" She'd never put much thought into what Loki had been looking for in a partner, but she doubted it was anything like her. Short, clumsy human girl with a tendency to flap her gums before thinking? Probably not his type. Definitely not queen material.
"You surprised me at every turn," he admitted. "Though the little quirks I thought I would need to polish out of you turned out to be some of your most endearing qualities."
The line on his forehead—the crease that said he was confused about her presence—hadn't smoothed out since she'd entered the room.
"Don't worry, I'm sure I can find something to annoy you with, given enough time."
"So you are staying?" She'd never heard so much hope crammed into so few words, and his frown deepened as if quelling the hope he felt was physically painful.
"I am. Not permanently, probably, but for now."
Loki let out a sharp breath, his face smoothing out from his frown and into the cusp of a smile. "Why?"
Darcy was getting restless, hovering on the periphery of the chamber and having this conversation with him from across the room. She crossed to the nearest sofa and plonked herself down on it, gesturing for Loki to sit on the chair he still gripped the back of. He wordlessly obeyed.
"You gave me a lot to think about earlier. I thought I was already pretty solid in my decision, but then you made me change my mind about a half dozen times. In the end, I just thought: what kind of life do I want?"
She paused and forced herself to make eye contact with Loki, who was now hanging on her every word like they were the first sustenance he'd had in days.
"It's pretty obvious I can't go back to the life I had before, and that's not a bad thing. I didn't really have a plan—I had vague goals which constantly got blindsided by the universe throwing me for a loop. So the best thing for me to do is evaluate what I do want and figure out how to get there. That's easier here, where I'm disconnected from everything and I'm safe. Hard to make good plans when you're paranoid."
She smoothed her hand over the pile on the sofa cushion, a soothing motion that grounded her before she kept going.
"I'm still not sure what kind of career I want, other than I want to make a difference to the world. Working with Jane seems a good bet to make that a reality. Beyond that, I want to be happy. That's not an easy thing to plan for, but you said something earlier which made me think about that. You told me you can't make me happy, but we both know that's not true. We've seen it."
It took him a moment to catch on. "The mirror?"
She nodded. "In that vision, I was happy. You made me happy. So I'd be an idiot to turn my back on that and hope I'll find that elsewhere."
"What are you saying?" he asked gently.
"That I'm not just staying here to protect myself. I'm giving you a chance. You asked me twice if you could court me, but I've never answered you before. The answer's yes."
His smile unfurled like the glow of a sunrise, hope melting into delight and the shining warmth of his unguarded happiness. "You mean that? You will allow me to earn your love?"
She nodded, a little breathless at his open expression. It brought with it the memory of delving into his emotions, staggering under the intensity of his feelings for her.
"I can only repeat my earlier warnings: I will not play fairly. If I have the opportunity to woo you and win your heart I'll do whatever I must—and I have a millennium of princely manners behind me."
"I was kind of afraid you were going to say something like that, but you don't have to try too hard, okay? Just show me why I should like you, why I should trust you—why I might think of you as a good man."
"That sounds reasonable to me." His smile didn't diminish at all. "When can we begin?"
"Now's as good a time as any. Have you eaten?"
He rose and held his hand out to her. "I shall arrange for a meal to be brought to us at once." She placed her hand in his and he brought it to his mouth, pressing a chaste kiss to her knuckles, following it up with a swipe of his thumb. A foreshadowing of those princely manners. "I may not be able to convince you I am a good man yet, but I can spin a good yarn."
Loki's trial continued with a long list of witnesses to be called. People came and went from Earth and Darcy mostly hid from them, her continuing presence on Asgard a secret. She learned through Thor, who got his information from Heimdall, that Fury had intimated Darcy had returned to Earth with him and gone into hiding. He threw resources into "keeping her hidden" which were actually a smokescreen from his real focus: rooting out the rot within SHIELD.
Darcy didn't spend all her time with Loki. She didn't think it would be healthy, and she also thought Frigga might latch on too hard if she spent more time with her, so instead Darcy looked for other companions to spread her time among. Thor was too busy with his new duties but his old friends were happy to entertain her, at least while they remained oblivious to her tentative thing with Loki.
Sif's main interests were fighting and war, and Darcy had no interest in getting her ass handed to her by sparring, but the Warriors Three had a more varied regimen of hobbies which included feasting and regaling anyone who would listen with stories of their exploits. Since those stories involved Thor and, by extension, Loki, Darcy was happy to listen. Turned out Loki had got them out of a sticky situation on a regular basis during their younger years.
When they did spend time together, he put his full imagination and power of illusion to entertaining her as best he could within his quarters or hers. She explained the concepts of dates to him: dinner and a movie, watching a show, going out dancing, bowling… He got the concept and went completely over the top, transforming his chamber into an empty theater or a meadow for them to sit and have a picnic in. Half the fun was turning up to see what the illusion was going to be this time.
Though she wouldn't admit it, she preferred it when there was no illusion at all and they slouched on the sofas, the room drenched in candlelight as she picked through his books and they drifted from random topic to random topic. He tried to teach her to read the runic alphabet so she didn't have to rely on the illustrations, while she decided it was easier to make up her own narrative from those illustrations.
"Is that a goat? What's the goat doing? There are so many goats, I don't get it—is that the only animal your artists know how to draw?"
This evening he'd plied her with incredible pastries, which she ate on a blanket on the floor with her back to the fancy so she wouldn't get crumbs all over it. Somehow she'd ended between his legs so he could see the book she had spread on her lap, though he held his body stiffly enough that the only place they actually touched was his tentative fingers in her hair. She hummed at the first touch and encouraged him to keep doing it while she tried sounding out the letters.
They'd come a long way from when she was terrified of his presence.
"Hey, that's Jotunheim," she said after turning the page. The drawing took up a full page and was an extremely stylized snapshot of the main plateau, looking across it to the temple and the palace. Only, unlike when Darcy had been, both buildings were complete, and the town sprawling in front of them filled the plateau.
"Indeed," Loki confirmed. "It is a history book, so that likely dates to before the war."
She studied the drawing. "Is that what you're trying to return it to?"
"Something like that, yes."
She twisted and craned her neck to look up at him. "What will happen in your absence?" she asked. "Will there be an uprising—will they know if you've been captured or will they—" She stopped abruptly at the glint in Loki's eyes. "You've been visiting, haven't you?"
He gave a sheepish shrug. "It's in a fragile state and needs a firm hand to stop it sliding back into the mess it was before."
He almost had her convinced by his earnestness. "Okay, so someone's been sneaking out even though they promised not to. Hope you don't intend to lie to the Norns about that." She patted the blanket beside her. "It hurts my neck to talk to you like this, you need to come down here."
If he had any urge to protest he swallowed it, shifting his legs and sliding until he was on the floor beside her, though he kept a respectful few inches between them still. In turn, she resisted her own urge to lean into his body heat, too aware of the importance of not building up his hopes unless she was sure she wasn't going to smash them later.
"So what's all this, then?" She pointed at the next illustration.
"Jotun crafts. They always had a good reputation for metalwork and masonry, which allowed them to trade for food with other realms. If you wanted fine jewelry or a well-balanced axe, you commissioned a jotun smith. They also knew their way around leather and furs."
"Knew? You think that's been lost?"
Loki sighed. "Laufey was too interested in war—he turned most of the craftspeople towards creating weapons and becoming warriors. Then when he was defeated he had little reason to encourage them to preserve their culture. It rotted for a long time and so much of their population died that I do fear many skills have been forgotten. The one boon is that jotun are so long lived, so there are those around from before the war who remember their old professions."
"You know," said Darcy, "if you can rebuild their culture, you've actually got a shot at going down in the history books as a good king."
"Perhaps." Loki shifted uncomfortably. "Once that's all I wanted—the chance for a throne of my own—yet the more I've thought on the subject, the more I've realized I'm happy to cede it."
Darcy's head snapped up to study him. "You mean that?"
He nodded. "It's very different to what one perceives from the outside. I don't envy Thor at all anymore—and he's doing a far better job than I ever could. Though I beg you not to tell him that."
"I think you just handed me some excellent blackmail material," she grinned. "But seriously, this shows real personal growth. I'm just worried that if you abandon Jotunheim it'll lose its only chance of getting back to this." She pointed to the illustration, which featured a heavy torc and studded shield, among other items she couldn't identify.
"I don't plan to—though I hope to find a worthy replacement. Someone who will see the throne not as a burden, but as an opportunity, and not one from which to wage war."
Darcy turned another page and squinted at the next picture. "What is that?" It looked like a metal barrel with a concave end.
Loki examined the picture. "Malmurstromma. I haven't seen one of those in eons."
"That doesn't tell me what it is."
"It's an instrument. You beat it with various implements and it plays a melody as well as a rhythm."
"Huh. Like a steel drum."
"If you say so. I have a recording of one somewhere."
That was something Darcy was still getting used to on Asgard—despite its pseudo-Dark Ages trappings, the technology was actually centuries ahead of that on Earth, so there was a way of listening back to recorded music. Loki had a console which allowed him to summon music—and that really was the best way she could describe it—that filled the room. Now he rose to replace the book on its shelf and did whatever mojo he needed to.
He was right about the melody and the rhythm, and she was right about the steel drum, though the range of sounds were much broader—some deeper, some tinnier, almost like the bell-like overtone of a guitar harmonic. The first piece he played was brief and only had one drum in it, but the second piece had at least three, the lines overlapping. She went from tapping her toes to rocking up onto her feet, raising her arms to Loki.
"We gotta dance to this. I don't know how, but we do."
She expected him to shrink from her command, but instead he unfurled one of those wolfish grins. The room shifted around her, the chamber melting into an open, empty ballroom. She knew this was an illusion and they hadn't actually moved because her ears weren't ringing. She grinned at the change and took his hand.
Darcy didn't know how to dance but Loki did. She learned the Asgardian equivalent of the salsa, or it might have been a waltz. Something that kept them close without being pressed up against each other, and left Darcy giggling every time she stepped on his feet while he gazed down at her fondly. Concentrating on foot placement had her admiring his long legs and the assured movement of his hips, and his cool hands reminded her of the other time she'd felt them on her skin.
If he knew where her mind had drifted to, he said nothing. No matter how much he might yearn for her, he was the ultimate gentleman, throughout out of all their dates. Even if Loki was fond of kissing the back of her hand, he remained respectful of her boundaries in every other way, pressing his suit with his infamous silvertongue instead, dropping compliments until she blushed and stammered. More than anything, she welcomed him opening up to her.
Still more people came and went from Earth. Jane accompanied Erik when it was his turn to speak in front of the Norns, though Jane herself didn't have anything to say about Loki, since all her injustices were second hand. It was a glorified excuse to see Darcy and Thor again, and now Thor's coronation was approaching it was important that Jane understood her part in the process. She was going to be his consort, rather than his queen, but she would still have a role in the ceremony.
Thor had begun flexing his muscles as king, making a few changes to the running of the kingdom. He'd assembled his own council of advisers, with some of his father's allies encouraged into retirement. Frigga had been invited to join the council, for her experience as dowager queen, but she'd opted to retire to her home realm of Vanaheim after the coronation.
Darcy didn't understand most of the changes Thor introduced, since they were about taxation and obscure laws within Asgard, but others seemed designed to prove that he was a wise king. That included a contribution to the rebuilding of Jotunheim, on the condition that it was disarmed and had no standing army with which to attacked other realms.
Thor's biggest decision was the most surprising: after Asgard had finished helping rebuilding the fractured cities of Earth—a concession made in recognition of Loki's part in it all—they would cease diplomatic contact, rather than attempting to build a rapport between the two realms. Thor and Frigga agreed they'd done enough damage to the more fragile world.
"You're invoking the prime directive?" was Darcy's response. "Sure, that makes sense."
Thor was wise enough not to ask her what she was talking about. Loki ended up getting an in depth lecture about Star Trek, then Star Wars, and then an overview of other beloved sci-fi properties.
Two months after the hearings began, the last witness had spoken: Loki, in his own favor. Darcy didn't go to witness it, since she'd seen the best and worst in his own head. Though she was curious what color his soul was, she decided she preferred to learn that her own way. He'd spoken for nearly a week, and in the evenings had been withdrawn and restless—he refused company and skulked in his chambers.
Darcy wasn't sure if the Norns would take some time to deliberate, but that turned out to be a "no"—they were summoned straight down to the verdict the morning after the hearings ended.
Loki took his place on the podium, where he regarded the Norns with the kind of sullen defiance which would make any teenage rebel proud. If this had been his attitude over the last week, it probably hadn't done him any favors. But the Norns had that same detached air as when Darcy had spoken, unfazed or uncaring.
"Loki, prince of this realm," they began, "we have over these many hours heard the words of those who would vouch for you, and those you have harmed. Some speakers have been both. We measured the souls of all and distilled the truth from their testimony. We did the same with you, and now, we have reached our decision. It is binding—none may challenge or undermine it. Do you understand?"
"Yes." He seemed a little less nonchalant now, the way his fingers drummed on the podium belying his nerves.
"You spoke mostly the truth to us. You have done great harm to many and your disregard for the lives of others has tarnished your soul to an alarming degree. Nevertheless—you have suffered great harm of your own. By the time you reached this chamber, your own life force had been diminished to a fraction of its original capacity. We have considered the truth and the balance of what has happened, and decided the following."
You could have heard a pin drop in the chamber as everyone leaned forwards, holding their breath to await whatever the Norns were going to do say next.
"For the damage you caused to Midgard, you are forever forbidden from returning to that realm." This was an anticipated proclamation, but one which stung Darcy, though she wasn't sure why. The Norns continued, "For your treason, you are exiled from Asgard for the duration of your remaining life. You have forfeited your title as prince and all of its privileges. You must be gone by sunset and never return."
Surprised whispers started around the chamber. Loki didn't acknowledge any of them. He remained on the podium facing the Norns, perfectly still.
"We would recommend you return to the realm of your birth which is in need of as much repair as your soul. The Casket of Ancient Winters must be returned to your possession, as its rightful owner, as Asgard has no right to it and its removal from that realm has caused much hardship. That is our decision and that is the end of this matter."
It was a clear dismissal, with the Norns turning their backs on the chamber. People began filing out, the whispers growing louder, while Loki did not move at all.
"Is that better than we hoped?" Darcy murmured to Frigga.
"Yes, and no," Frigga replied. "He will face no further imprisonment, but exile does seems harsh."
"Where will he go? To Jotunheim?"
"Perhaps. He may just come to Vanaheim with me."
"So long as he does not attempt to sneak back into Asgard," Thor muttered. "To do so would mean his death."
"I can't believe you have to give him back the casket," said Darcy. "They must believe something has changed to decide it's safe for him to have it."
"I agree," said Frigga. "He will not be tempted to use it for ill now."
Loki seemed cheerful about the decision and Darcy couldn't decide whether his mood was real or not. She hoped he felt able to be honest with her about things like this now, but old habits died hard.
"I'm not being locked up and left to rot," he said airily. "Anything's better than that. Well—almost anything. But since Thanos is firmly in Mistress Death's grasp, certain things were off the cards."
Arrangements were made for his immediate departure to Frigga's palace on Vanaheim, and Darcy was left behind on Asgard until Frigga could send for her. Instead, Darcy went for a stroll down to the Bifrost and spoke to Heimdall, who assured her the coast was clear on Earth.
She went home.
Sure, things weren't exactly peachy on Earth. Darcy was getting the figurative side-eye from a lot of people, but she wasn't in danger anymore. Somehow her name had been linked to helping unmask the Hydra faction lurking with SHIELD, which had been uncovered in her absence. It had swung the tide of public opinion away from viewing her as a traitor, and she was able to resume working with Jane.
Coming home had been the right decision. There was so much about Earth she'd come to miss, the people most of all. She spent a few weeks with her family, booked in with a therapist, and ate all the chocolate she could get her hands on.
Life was great. Life was peaceful. And working by Jane's side gave her the sense of fulfillment she'd been looking for. It was amazing the kind of equipment a Nobel Prize win could buy you, and the grants it attracted.
If only her apartment was a little less empty in the evenings.
She didn't realize she missed Loki's presence at first—she was too busy to miss anyone, but then when she did have quiet time, she found herself talking out loud to her empty living room. She explained what she'd being doing all day, any articles she'd read, various pieces of pop culture that came up as she went about her evening.
There was a Loki shaped hole in her life. He'd slowly created it, as he'd promised he would, and while she might not be in love yet—nowhere close to the way he felt about her—she could admit she missed him and wanted him around.
Maybe that's what coming home had been about. It was a test, to see if it was worth continuing on this path towards some vague future with Loki, or whether she was content to forge her happiness in other ways. Despite the obstacles on that path, her heart wanted to keep exploring it.
This time, she had to coordinates for Vanaheim, so she and Jane were able to create a new gate that connected with the existing portal on that realm, one masked from the powers that be by some clever theoretical tweaking by Jane. Nearly three months after Darcy returned to Earth, she stepped onto Vanaheim for the first time.
Loki wasn't there, in this realm of endless pastures and gentle spring days, but Frigga was. She sent for her son in Jotunheim and welcomed Darcy to her home, walking with her in the elegant, manicured grounds of the palace.
"He has missed you. He thought—" Frigga paused. "He's been working very hard," she continued brightly.
"He thought I'd gone for good," Darcy finished the thought for her. "I didn't. I just needed to get home for a while. But we have the portal so I can come here as much as I like."
Frigga could hardly contain her delight. "That sounds promising indeed. You'll be pleased to hear that he hasn't sulked about your absence too much—he's thrown himself into revitalizing Jotunheim. Treaties are in the works for trade between the two realms and he's searching for an heir who has the strength to hold power and the skill to raise Jotunheim back to glory."
Loki's arrival was announced with a loud crash, the gate to the garden almost knocked off its hinges as he barreled through in search of Darcy. Frigga rolled her eyes fondly and walked away, leaving Darcy alone under the branches of a blossoming cherry tree.
He looked ravenous: hair wild, longer than it had ever been, and his breath coming in deep pants as he crossed the lawn towards Darcy. Snowflakes still lingered on his cloak and his eyes were wide, unblinking, as if he was unsure she was even there.
"The messenger said—" he rasped.
"That I'm here? I'm here." She smiled up at him, suddenly nervous. He was so big up close, looming over her with all his usual intensity.
"Are you staying?"
She made an uncommitted noise. "There are some practical issues we need to work out, what with you being exiled from where I live and all, but I figure the portal will help with that immensely. They can wait. We've got other things to take care of first."
His eyebrows rose. "Such as?"
"Such as this." She propped herself up on tiptoe, snaking her hands up his chest for balance, and raising her lips to his.
Loki didn't need it spelling out.
That is pretty much it. There's an epilogue which is ready to post, but I'll probably give it a couple of days. Maybe I'll have more words then :P.