Loki felt his heart lose its steady rhythm when the knock came at the door.

He wanted to chide himself for the knot of emotion rising within his chest that could only be described as giddy. He knew who awaited him beyond his door. He knew what awaited him tomorrow. And for the first time in years, he was looking forward to both.

The brilliant smile on his face fell when he did not find the object of his affection waiting on the other side as he expected, but another creature entirely. Two, in fact. His forehead smoothed back as his eyelids grew heavy with irritation.

"Thor. Dr. Foster," he greeted curtly. The pair of lovebirds who insisted on circling him more days than he preferred stood grinning like fools on his threshold. His brother stood holding a stack of pizzas in his arms with paper plates and utensils resting on top of it. Jane struggled to hold more bottles of soft drinks than he new existed in Midgard. As much as the two of them intruded on his solitude on a weekly basis, they unfortunately now would have even more cause to invade his apartment. Especially if Darcy spent more of her evenings there in the immediate future, which he fully intended that she did.

"Is she here?" Jane said, excitement threatening to bubble out of her eyes. "She wasn't at her place."

"She just got in this morning. She might have still been sleeping," Loki answered, moving aside to allow his brother and Jane entrance. The smile had not left the scientist's face as she numbered the variety of pizzas and drinks they bore, as well as the movie selections available on Stark Tower's network she thought they could enjoy.

"I'm just going to text everyone and let them know we'll be here." Loki frowned at the word everyone as his brother came out of the kitchen to turn his television on to whatever sporting event had his interest.

"Thor!" Jane chastised.

"Just until she gets here!" he said. Jane rolled her eyes as she began unpacking the paper dinnerware. Loki clenched his teeth. His brother had taken to using his apartment to indulge in Midgardian athletic competitions rather than the one he shared with Jane since the astrophysicist hated the sound of almost any sports channel. Loki was tolerant of it most evenings. He almost found his brother's easy company pleasant, on occasion. But not tonight. Clearly these two planned to watch some sort of film with their returning friend. If they started it as soon as she arrived, they could possibly be out by ten o'clock. Loki had many plans for Darcy's first night back in New York, and Thor and Jane's presence interfered with virtually all of them. The only thing that stopped him from evicting the pair was knowing that Darcy would be ecstatic at such a gathering of her friends for her first night home.

The next knock set his heart stuttering once again, but he was greeted by none other by Erik Selvig carrying a collection of craft beers. Apparently a reception was being thrown at his home without his knowledge.

"Dr. Selvig," Loki greeted, nodding politely and stepping to the side.

"Loki," Erik said, returning the nod as he stepped in. The physicist, along with Agent Barton, were some of the only mortals whom Loki never allowed himself to be anything but polite, given his transgressions against him. Agent Barton's demeanor was slightly more prickly than the doctor's, though he had not suffered the same side effects as Darcy and Selvig. Loki's work with Selvig to repair the damage he had caused him had also managed to mend their acquaintance, to an extent. The trickster doubted they'd ever become anything other than tolerant to one another, but Loki was satisfied with that. Selvig was one of the only people to know he visited Darcy at the start of the year. He had remained discreet, though Loki imagined it was mainly for Darcy's benefit to keep her out of SHIELD's interest. For all of Selvig's disapproval of Loki's affection for Darcy and their relationship once it had come to light, the man never tried to warn him away. Loki had even dared to asked Selvig why he never spoke against him visiting her once her treatment has been complete. The scientist had said trying to warn a God of Mischief away from anything would have the opposite effect he wanted, as would trying to warn away a young woman from the man she loved. They were both adults, and he trusted that one of them would come to their senses eventually. The direct and honest answer —however unsettling yet exhilarating he found the use of the term 'love'— had placed Selvig as one of the few mortals whose respect Loki decided he would prefer to have. He would probably not get it, given their past, but Loki had never backed down from a challenge.

"You have honeycakes from Asgard?" Thor asked excitedly from his kitchen, mouth already full of at least two of them.

Loki groaned. "Yes, please try to leave at least one for Darcy." The single, abrupt knock on the door he knew belonged to yet another uninvited guest, as it certainly didn't belong to Darcy. "Agent Romanoff," he said as he opened his door once more. "What a pleasant surprise."

"I bet," Natasha said, brushing past him with a large box of some sort of hot, pungent food. Chicken wings, from the smell of it. Loki let out a heavy breath, watching the four make themselves at home in his kitchen that was getting more cluttered by the minute.

"Well, I'm glad Jane texted me to let me know about impromptu pizza night," he heard whispered behind him. An impish grin on full lips greeted him as he turned to his still opened door. "I think me showing up here in nothing but a coat would have been a little more embarrassing." And there she stood, leaned against the door frame, hand casually resting on the supple curve of a hip that he been aching to taste.

"Say the word, and they are all hooded, bound, and gagged in my study," he said, leaning down to plant a brief but thorough kiss on her lips. Her small hands came up to gently grip his shoulders, and he could feel her smile in between their painfully chaste kisses. She brushed the tingling flesh of his lower lip with her thumb after she drew away.

"We've both been alone long enough," Darcy said, a hint of regret to her gentle tease. "Fresh start, remember? Besides, if they all stay too late, I might be too tired to walk back down to my place, and just might have to stay here." She pressed one more brief kiss to his mouth. The tip of her tongue teased his bottom lip for the beat of a heart before she brushed past him with a soft thank you and playful smirk. Loki felt his body shudder before he heard the small welcoming party grow loud and excited as Darcy ventured into his apartment. They offered their welcome and congratulations in an enthusiastic flurry of conversation. He closed the door, leaning back against it as he observed the group of friends so overwhelmingly comfortable in the Lair of Loki. That was what Jane called it when she and Thor came around and insisted on socializing with him.

He wanted to be annoyed at the intrusion of so many into his private space at once. But seeing the light in Darcy's eyes dance at the excitement of her favored comfort foods gathered by the people who loved her was enough to dampen his irritation. Maybe even endear the mortals to him. For they all cared for her, and had done so long before he had forced himself into her life. He knew that Darcy felt no small amount of guilt at shutting them out as best she could in the years after The Incident. She had tried to bury herself alive in her own exile, and not allowed anyone to save her. But she had returned to the land of the living, and they were all there to welcome her back, no questions asked. For that, he could allow much.

For several years, Loki had measured his life by several moments in terms of 'before' and 'after'. Before and after he discovered the blood that ran in his veins. Before and after Thanos captured him. Before and after he became a prisoner in the palace that had been his home. Before and after his mother had been murdered. The night Darcy had kissed him for the first time had become the new moment. And for once, that moment filled him with joy rather than dread.

A fresh start. That is what they had agreed upon. No hiding. No sneaking. Her skills set could take her anywhere. But she wasn't going to come to New York if they were going to be ashamed to be with one another. And so far, it had been a fresh start. Mostly. His neighbors at Stark Tower had been neither surprised nor pleased when the Widow let slip what she had seen a month ago. Just like the woman. She wouldn't oppose them directly. But she would allow everyone else to put the pressure on around them, hoping that his interest would dim with the appeal of secrecy gone.

But there had been no violent protest as he had expected. He had received a rather annoying 'talking to' by Stark and Jane Foster, on separate occasions. While he had little to say to the Man of Iron other than a few choice words detailing the comfort of Darcy's mattress and other such little uncomfortable barbs, he was as sincere as he could manage to be with Jane when she confronted him. She had managed not to slap him this time, to her credit. Perhaps his hands and magic being unbound cooled her bravery. But she had not been cross. Invasive, yes. But not cross. By the end, he must have answered her questions in a way she found pleasing, as she never fully objected to his intentions to court Darcy. She had even smiled at his use of the word. Thor had not only not objected, but congratulated him warmly on his newfound romance, calling her a fine match of spirit for him. Whatever peace that had begun to build in Svartalfheim between him and Thor completed itself when Loki had embraced his brother for his congratulations.

Agent Romanoff's appearance a month prior had pushed Darcy to finally confront her desire and fear of him that seemed perpetually intertwined. Then he had kissed her and she him until the sun threatened to rise before they slept and he thought he might dissolve into nothing there in her bed. Instead of their usual single night together for the week, he had stayed through Sunday, and the entire three other weekends in between the time it took her to move her life to New York. The temptation to teleport to her every night called to him, but he resisted for the sake of not overwhelming her. He had yet to make love to her the way he had wished for seven months. Or if he was being honest with himself as he almost never was, the way he had imagined for two years. She had made no move passed kissing him until he was in physical pain from the restraint, but he endured it happily. The past month of his life had given him more peace than the past century, and he refused to rush either of them.

But the air had changed between them in the past week.

Loki had always thought Darcy flirtatious by nature. Even during the period she was under his thrall, she had been effervescent with energy and kindness and her own odd sense of humor. More often than not, she had a smile playing at the corner of her mouth as if she knew something that he did not that he found rather charming. Even in the depths of his madness, he had found that odd charm more magnetic than he had wished at the time. That same woman had slowly returned as his magic had healed her mind, with the added sophistication that the few years and experience she had gained in that time could provide.

But that had apparently had not been flirtation. Not compared to the way she was now. As Darcy's final week before she moved came upon them, it seemed that she was actually trying to drive him mad, rather than doing so by accident. He was over a thousand years old, and he felt like a boy of two hundred around her. Every conversation ended with some innuendo or promise of things to come from her. When he met her at the airport, her tender kisses and gentle touches had been replaced with more bold and daring counterparts.

"Loki! Nat brought garlic parmesan wings!" Darcy called from the kitchen, interrupting his quiet reflection. "Your favorite! See! She doesn't hate your guts! Maybe just your lower intestine or something. You have intestines right?" He looked up to see Agent Romanoff tossing him a painfully indifferent look over Darcy's shoulder while the young woman appeared to be thumb-wrestling his brother over the last honeycake. She struggled for the advantage using both hands, and yelped when Thor lifted her off her feet as he raised the arm she clung to.

"You are the worst!" she said, her short legs kicking to maintain leverage over his brother's strength while Thor laughed at the wriggling creature hanging off of him. Loki shook his head, unable to keep his smile hidden from their antics as he joined them in the kitchen.


The God of Mischief finally bade goodnight to the last of their guests, Thor and Jane, Just after eleven o'clock. While he had enjoyed the evening marginally more than he had imagined, relief flooded his body when he turned to see Darcy breaking down the empty pizza boxes. Alone. The group had forgone any kind of film, thank the Norns, and instead spent several hours in conversation with one another. He would have thought that would have been even more unbearable. But the ease of companionship among them, as well as the bubbling joy and laughter from Darcy, Thor, and Jane had warmed something underneath his skin. Perhaps it was for Darcy's benefit, but Romanoff and even Selvig were civil toward him. Not quite friendly, but not hostile. And they had come willingly into his home.

He watched as Darcy tidied as much as she could. She smiled when she caught his stare as she leaned over his sink to wash her hands.

"See? Not so terrible," she said, patting her hands on a towel as he approached. He said nothing, but stood in the entrance of the kitchen. She tilted her head as she crossed her arms over her chest, that grin once again gracing her lips. "I know what you are thinking, but you might want to steer clear for while. I had a ton of those wings, and whoever made them was not shy on the garlic." He still said nothing as he allowed a small spell to wash over her. She frowned a moment, clicking her tongue experimentally before a quiet giggle escaped her lips. "Wintergreen, huh? I guess you have a trick for everything." Still, he remained silent, and the one-sidedness of her conversation finally seemed to strike her as odd. She narrowed her eyes slightly. He relished that his current game of silence did not make her uncomfortable. Rather, he could see the little wheels turning behind her large blue eyes as she debated with herself in how to respond.

She looked down for only a moment. "Oh no, my shirt got wet," she said flatly, eyes not leaving his. Her purple button up blouse was unbuttoned and tossed into the sink of soapy water before he could even point out that her shirt was perfectly dry. He clenched his jaw as she crossed her arms over her chest casually again, as if she was wearing something more than a dark green undergarment encasing her rather magnificent breasts that he had spent no small amount of their acquaintance admiring. The tantalizing arrangement of satin, lace and thin straps was clearly meant for display rather than any practical purpose. While he was unsure of exactly what his face looked like as the blood evacuated almost all parts of his body save for one, the girl seemed more than pleased with herself.

"Subtle, as always, darling," Loki said, his voice tighter than normal, as he slowly approached her, admitting his defeat in their impromptu contest of wills.

"Didn't you tell me to be crystal clear when I was ready? And besides: the man who tried to take over the world on top of this very building is complaining about a lack of subtlety? Interesting, to say the least." She rested her hands on the counter behind her, still as unconcerned as ever as his eyes took in every inch of exposed skin that was new to him. He was vaguely aware that staring was considered impolite, but she would surely forgive him this once.

"Must you remind me of my past misdeeds at such a moment?" he said, placing his hands on her hips and pulling her against him. He heard a light breath escape from her full, parted lips and felt himself twitch at the sound. "I would hate to spoil the mood. I have a feeling I'm going to enjoy it."

"Spoil the mood?" He was pleased her voice finally seemed to be cracking with a slight breathlessness. She parted her thighs slightly, allowing his knee to come between them. "If you think the fact that I'm planning on having my wicked way with an ex-supervillain is spoiling anything, you clearly don't read enough books. Not good ones, anyway."

Loki took a sudden step back, deftly lifting her into his arms, with one around her back and one hooked under her knees. The only thing more satisfying than her yelp of surprise was the warmth of her skin seeping through the thin layer of his Midgardian clothing. "Where have you been all my life?" he asked. His only answer was a smile and those lips meeting his again.

Loki was fully aware that, should he wish it, he could have had them in his bed and bare as the stars had made them with a flick of his wrist. But the God of Mischief had never been prone to rushing his delights. So much was lost to the convenience of sorcery, if one was not careful. The feel of Darcy's fingers unbuttoning his shirt as he carried her down the hall. The lavish kisses he placed on the tops of her breasts before finally releasing them from the scraps of fabric parading as a brassiere. The sudden quickening of her breath when she finally reached to unbuckle his belt. Her gentle snickering in between desperate kisses when she looked around at his room for the first time, calling him a spoiled princeling for making his room to resemble his chambers in Asgard. So many little gems could be lost with hurrying things along. But Loki slowly collected them, one by one, storing them deep within his vivid memory to be admired later.

Darcy seemed to appreciate his bare chest almost as he did hers, as she took great care to caress him in ways he couldn't remember having been caressed in decades. Perhaps longer. Perhaps ever. His lovers in Asgard had been appealing and satisfying, but true affection had been absent from their eyes often enough that he had long stopped looking for it. But Darcy never stopped touching him. Never stopped looking at him. Her hands found his hair. Her lips found his neck. Her teeth found his shoulders. Her rather lively hips sought out any contact they could, which happened to be the tops of his thighs. One admirable quality of his young mortal soon-to-be lover: she was not interested in letting him do all the work. Yet another contrast to his past dalliances as a Prince of Asgard. He had imagined for some time how he might kiss and touch her when presented such and opportunity, but had put little stock in her wanting to do the same to him. The stories had always gone that the fair maiden reluctantly resigned herself to surrendering to the monstrous villain. When he felt her teeth gently scrape across his nipple as she kissed his way across his chest, he was willing to concede that she was right, and he really was reading the wrong sort of books.

Darcy circled around behind him, fingers gently running over the scars left by the hospitality of Thanos. He froze, ashamed that he hadn't even thought to conceal them, so sudden had been her prelude to seduction that evening. They had long faded to thin lines and patterns, but were still far more visible than he wished. He squeezed his eyes together tightly as one of her hands slipped around to his front, splaying across his stomach as she pressed her lips gently across his back. Allowing himself to indulge in the devotion spoken with her hands and lips across his skin for a moment longer, he finally turned to take her kiss her once more.

Bending down slightly to get a firm but gentle grip on the back of her thighs, he lifted her up as her much shorter limbs immediately attempted to wrap around his waist. Darcy had never been a graceful creature, he couldn't help but acknowledge with a smile against her mouth. Given her level of distraction, the fact that she managed to get one leg hiked up around his waist and the other one hooked somewhere low on his thigh was impressive. In the end, her lack of symmetry did not matter as he laid her down on his bed easily. He paused, grinning when he noticed she wore only her dark blue jeans and spectacles. It did not take her long to nervously giggle when she realized what gave him pause. She reached up to pluck her glasses off of her face before turning on her side to gently toss them on his night table.

"Speaking of mood-killers, that's not the last time my bad eyesight is going to-" Her words ended in a gasp as he swiftly laid behind her, hands snaking forward to find her breasts as his mouth found the shell of her ear. A fully formed tremor started at her neck and radiated down her body as her back arched and her backside pressed back against his groin. He brought one hand down to make quick work of the button and zipper of her pants before swiftly dipping his middle finger underneath the silk of her panties. The slickness he found waiting for him tore a groan from his chest and another gasp from her lips. She pressed herself back against him once again with much more intent.

Finding the removal of pants the least interesting part of disrobing, he found no hardship in letting his magic wash over their legs, removing the last of their clothing as they appeared neatly folded on his dresser. Not that she knew where they went. Nor did she seem to care at the moment. She squirmed against him again when she realized what he had done. An enthusiastic moan fell from her as she ground her hips for more contact with his hand against her. He obliged gladly as he turned her over on her back, letting his mouth finally have access to her ample chest as he pumped his fingers with the rhythm she set. She threaded her fingers through his hair with one hand and reached down to stroke the rough skin of his back with the other as her hips sought the release he was promising.

Loki normally preferred to tease a lover to the edge of sanity before he finally granted the satisfaction they craved. But he found himself growing impatient for her approval of his touch. He curled his fingers and thumb in a way that proved quite effective through the centuries. It was not long before she clenched down him, nearly sobbing his name against his bedcovering as she came. A sudden rush of warmth on his hands left him little to wonder if she was enjoying herself. When Darcy opened her eyes again, her face had an unusual blush about it that was not just from the light exertion. He continued to press light kisses to her chest and stomach that rose and fell with her heavy breaths.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, though not worried enough to stop the attention he paid to her breasts as she tried to find words.

"No," she managed to say. "Not really."

"Not really?" He flicked his tongue over her right nipple, earning him a moan and thrust of her hips into the air.

"I'm just- It's just- not normally that easy for me to- I don't really- Um-" He watched as she bit her swollen lips as he kissed his way to her hips and thighs, just down to the inside of her knee. "Words. Saying them. I'm great at it."

"Watching you struggle for words, my pet, might have to be one of my new favorite pastimes."

Darcy smiled, her breath a little more even, and tugged up on his shoulders to return his mouth to hers. He obeyed gladly, covering her naked body with his own. The warmth of all of their parts entwining was a pleasure he had fantasized for so long, he worried if the night they were finally together could ever live up to his very colorful imagination. But the little mortal's eager hands and kisses, her unashamed enthusiasm for him, threatened to overwhelm with him emotion that had escaped even his more elaborate dreams. But he couldn't fall apart now. Not with her there. In his bed. Happy and whole. And looking at him like that.

I don't know what happened on Earth to make you so soft. Don't tell me it was that woman.

His own words of ridicule of his brother echoed in his mind as he felt her hand slip between them to take hold of him. He felt her smile when a groan escaped his mouth against hers. Darcy parted her legs further and guided him inside before bringing her arms up around his shoulders, holding him so closely to her, he wasn't sure he could get away, even if he wanted to. It was his turn to struggle for even breath.

"I have imagined this moment more ways that either of us can count," he said. "There is so much more I wished to do with you. But I can't bring myself to stop."

Darcy smiled a soft smile that warmed him to his very core. "We have all the time we need for tricks. But right now, I just want you."

Any remaining reservations fled him as she brought her hand to the side of his face. He found refuge in the curve of her neck as he hooked her leg over his hip. He kept it slow as he could for as long as he could manage, which was wasn't very. Every sigh of pleasure increased the tempo of his thrusts, which grew harder and harder as his whispered name turned into more shameless moans. It took far more of his strength to wait for her than he would have preferred. He hadn't taken a lover in years; and certainly not a woman like Darcy. He should have known he wouldn't last long.

"I'm close, Loki," she said, the soft pads of her fingers gripping the thinly scarred flesh of his back. "Very close."

"Darcy," was all he could say. She clenched around him once again, though the pressure was far more pleasing than when it had been around his fingers. Her breath caught in her throat as she fluttered around him, and another surge of warmth from within her beckoned his own release. It started in the exquisite center of him where his body joined with hers. Pleasure uncoiled in his belly, down his legs and arms, and within his chest as her small body wrapped around him at every angle. Her sighs and moans turned to a gentle whimpers as she came beneath him, pressing kisses to his neck and whatever exposed flesh she could find.

Loki rolled to the side before he could collapse on her. His body felt as boneless and languid as his lover appeared, a content grin on her attractively flushed face. The gentle blow of the climate control in his room cooled the perspiration from their bodies as she settled next to him, laying her head on his bare chest and one of her legs over his own. Her fingers gently played in the shallow crevices of his abdomen.

He would never tire of her little touches and caresses. Even when she had been under his thrall from the Scepter, he had longed to touch her and be touched so intimately. He had been almost ashamed of how weak he was watching her dance carelessly around his bunker, listening to her music and causing chaos at his instruction. She had been all sunshine to his long, lonely winter. He'd wanted to bathe in it. Lose himself in it until nothing could ever find him. But it could never have been. Not that way. Not with her will under his control. Not with his own mind in the depths of a madness he felt he would never escape. He couldn't have bathed in her sunshine. He would have consumed her until she hated him as much as he hated himself.

Letting her go had left him almost as hollow as his defeat from the Avengers. Even during his imprisonment as he waited for the reckoning from Thanos, he had wanted to see her again. Just an inkling at first until he could think of almost nothing else in the misery of his isolation. More than once, he'd wanted to tell his mother of her. For her to find some way to let him see her again. If Frigga had known some woman had moved his heart in Midgard, she would defied Odin himself to bring them together. He wished now more than ever, after her death, that he told her of Darcy. Perhaps his path could have been righted before his mother paid the price for his last evil trick. Perhaps Darcy would not have lost two years of her life in a prison of her own.

"Get out of your head, Mischief," Darcy said, breaking through his thoughts as she shifted against him. "Nothing but dangerous stuff in there. And let me under this blanket. I don't have frost-giantness to keep me comfortable. I'm freezing."


Soft morning light threatened to spill into Loki's room far earlier than he was ready. He had no curtains over the large windows to his bedroom overlooking the New York skyline. He felt it hard to breath with them closed. Their reflection on the outside gave him privacy, but no protection from the light, unless he called for it.

"JARVIS," he said lowly. "Dim the windows, please."

"At your wish, your highness," the computed being replied. Stark had programmed the electronic servant to call him his proper title out of mockery. But it gave a small amount of comfort to Loki. A reminder of what his life had once been, even if it was very different now. JARVIS was an efficient and cleverly designed creature. The Asgardian was strangely fond of him. The room dimmed slightly, leaving just enough of a glow of twilight to see the outline of the city. But they would be protected from the harshness of the sun as it continued to rise in the sky. Darcy still had two days before she started her position with Stark, and he did not want one moment of it wasted on unpleasantness.

He looked down at the mass of dark hair pillowed onto his chest as its bearer slept soundly. While he had possessed the luxury of waking up with her in his arms for many months, it was never with her naked skin pressed so intimately against his. Never after a night of enjoying each other in a handful of different ways.

"Thank you, JARVIS," Darcy said, not lifting her head from her muscled pillow.

"Your welcome, Miss Lewis. My apologies if I awoke you. I did try to keep my volume low."

"Don't sweat it." Darcy stretched underneath their cocoon of his quilt and sheets. Loki felt the muscles under her soft skin contract and then loosen against him as she pressed a kiss at the corner of his jaw.

"Good morning," she said softly, letting her head drop back down to his shoulder. "I guess having the 'morning after' isn't as awkward as it could be since we've technically been sleeping together for a while now." A gentle sleepiness still lingered in her words, and Loki wondered if she would drift back to slumber if he kept his responses simple enough. In truth, he had little to say. Contentment washed over him under the warmth of her skin and soft rumble of her chest as she spoke. Too often, he was the author of his own destruction, and he dared not do anything that would tempt him to lift the pen again. Not when his life was this right.

Darcy remained still for some time before raising up on her hand to look down at him. His coverlet pooled down at her waist, but she made no move to cover her naked chest from his sight. "Is everything all right?" she asked. He smiled, bringing a hand gentle to the side of her face.

"Everything is perfect," he said.

Her smile turned crooked and unsure. "Perfect? Really?"

"You doubt me?" he asked, keeping his tone soft as he sat up at her level.

She shrugged. "I knew this would make me happy. But I'm just a teeny, tiny mortal with a teeny, tiny life. I don't need a lot. It's just hard for me to imagine you'd be happy without some… I don't know. Glorious purpose. Part of me is waiting for you to wake up and realize you want more than this."

He dropped his forehead against hers, resting it gently as she breathed in and then out. "One day, I hope I will have more. But more with you." A pretty smile spread over her face, and he was relieved that his tongue of silver had not failed him. "I cannot promise that I will always make the best choices. I am far from perfect at putting others above myself. But whatever I sought in a throne, I found with you. I knew I would when I first touched your mind with mine. Wrong as it was for me to do that, I cannot say I regret it. I'm too selfish. I regret the pain I caused you. But it brought you closer to me. And I will take your teeny, tiny, mortal life over one of mine, if you offer it, and I'll never look back on it." The touch of her lips against his told him that the morning was about to go exceedingly well.

"On that unbearably romantic note, I'm going to go use your bathroom," she said with a light laugh. He watched her completely bare form disappear into his bathing chambers as she tended to her own self care. He flopped back on his back, scrubbing the skin of his face awake. Infuriating girl.

Of course, he had no intention for settling for her teeny, tiny, mortal life. Now that he had her, Hel itself would not rip her from him. He was loathed to let something as insignificant as her Midgardian heritage take her away. There were ways around that of course. His father had a very convenient orchard he hadn't stolen from in a while. Surely all this heroism he had indulged in with the Avengers would earn him a favor from the right person. Perhaps even Darcy's human blood held a mutation that would keep her from death. He had heard of such things occurring in Midgard, as of late. He would find something. He always did.

"You have a jacuzzi?" Darcy called from beyond the door. "What the hell? I don't have a jacuzzi. I didn't try to take over any planets. Why do you get a jacuzzi?" Loki grinned at the sound of her starting his bath.

But not just yet.


A/n: Here we end this short journey. There were two paragraphs in Chapter two from Loki's POV that didn't really fit the structure anymore. I removed them a kind of integrated them here in the last chapter. So, we have three from Darcy's POV getting a visit from Loki, and now the last one is Loki getting a visit from Darcy. I liked the way it ended up.