Author's note: Hans Zimmer time, guys. Or James Newton Howard. Really, any action music would work. I was listening to a combination of Inception, Batman Begins, and Pirates of the Caribbean when I wrote this chapter.
Anywayyyy….
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Loki clenched his fists subconsciously.
"I'm afraid I could not give her to you even if I wanted to," he said. "She is bound to another in heart and mind—even you must concede that her fate is out of my hands."
The General widened his eyes slightly, the cruel smile never leaving his face. "You are evading me, trickster. We know of the woman's bond to another. It is clear from her posture, the way she behaves around you. But the girl," he said with a leer, "is unattached to a mate. And she is so lovely," he said softly. He reached out and touched Darcy's cheek with the tips of his fingers, his filthy nails leaving faint pink tracks in their wake. Darcy looked as if she were about to vomit. "Such striking eyes," the General whispered. He turned to Loki, daring him to make a move. "Don't you agree," he asked silkily, "Laufeyson?" He spat on his boot disparagingly.
Loki felt a muscle working in his jaw as he fought against the impulse to strike the General dead. It was just what the bastard wanted him to do. He swallowed hard through the furious lump in his throat.
"Quite striking," he said blandly. He needed to see where the General was going with this. His stomach twinged pityingly for Darcy; her every feature was under scrutiny by a disgusting, cold frost giant who could crush her into dust with the slightest wrong move.
The General laughed at Loki's reply. "Yes," he said in a low voice. "I think the girl will do quite nicely. What do you say, Loki, son of Laufey?" The General extended a hand to him without spitting; he noticed with some disgust that the remnants of the General's last meal were still visible in between his teeth. "The girl to remain with me, in exchange for what you require and your return to Asgard unscathed?"
"I respectfully decline your offer," Loki replied coldly.
The General smiled once again. "Oh?" he said, feigning surprise. "And what is your objection? Do you indeed intend to die for your crimes? Are you so fond of this simple girl that you would not exchange her for your own life? Odd. I perceive that the two of you are not together in any sense of the term…"
Loki snapped. "Fondness has nothing to do with the matter," he hissed, stepping forward aggressively. "My objection is not personal. My objection is right and wrong. I have no right to give her to you. She is not a thing. She is a person."
"Loki…" Darcy's voice seemed very soft in the room filled with rumbling bass tones and male voices. He turned to survey her, trying to communicate with his eyes alone. Hush, Darcy, please, just this once, for your own sake. She looked as if she understood his intent, but she pressed on anyway. "You have no right to give me away," she said quietly, "but I may choose to do whatever I wish." She stared at Loki intensely, almost as if she were trying to say something silently.
He shook his head. "No. Absolutely not," he said firmly. There has to be another way. "We shall come to another agreement," he declared loudly to the room at large, trying frantically to make Darcy's voice seem small compared to his. Stupid girl, being too beautiful for her own good. Stupid, stupid Loki, bringing innocent mortals into this matter.
Darcy ignored Loki's pronouncement. "General," she said, her voice sounding fuller and more authoritative than it usually did. "If I stay here, will you and your people let my companions go without harming them, and give Loki what he requires to heal his injury?"
"No," Loki burst out.
"Yes." The General smirked at him. "Really, Laufeyson, I'm surprised. Your silver tongue is famed throughout the realms. Your talents as a wordsmith seem tarnished as of late." He turned to survey Darcy shrewdly. "Name your contract, mortal, and we shall shake upon it."
Darcy took a breath to steady herself. "You will give Loki a vial of jotun blood; he needs it to heal. You will let Loki and Jane return to Asgard unharmed and alive. In return, I promise on their behalf that they will not take a single hair from my head away from this realm."
The General nodded. "I agree to your terms," he growled. He held out a hand. "We bind our contract with a handshake."
Loki placed a restraining hand upon Darcy's wrist as she reached out to make her promise. "Darcy," he said warningly.
She turned to stare at him, her face expressionless. "Loki," she said. Her eyes flashed slightly—but this time, he had no idea what she was trying to say. They stared at each other for a second, waiting: for an epiphany, for their minds to suddenly become telepathically connected so they could understand what the other was playing at, for something to grasp at other than straws.
Darcy looked away first and turned to face the General directly. "I know what I'm doing," she muttered.
Loki's stomach twisted. Don't do it, don't do it…
He let go of her wrist.
Darcy shook the General's hand.
Loki closed his eyes, immediately regretting his decision. What had he done?
The General grinned at Darcy, but his eyes kept flitting to Loki wickedly. "We shall enjoy having such a lovely newcomer to entertain us."
Darcy, to her credit, did not shrink from the giant and his chuckling guards, but continued to stare straight ahead without blinking.
The General sat down in his chair heavily. "Hrodgæir," he shouted, "a vial and my silver dagger." A small frost giant with midnight blue skin hurried to the next room and returned moments later bearing a tiny crystal flask and a knife that, compared to the mortals, seemed more appropriate for butchering livestock than cutting a small vein. The General gruffly took the blade and laid it against one of his fingertips with a slight jab. Without so much as flinching, he let a small rivulet of his blood drip into the vial and set the 'dagger' on the arm of his throne.
Placing a small wooden stopper in the neck of the bottle, the General handed the flask to one of his guards, who dropped it into Loki's waiting palm. "Here is your blood, Laufeyson," the General growled, "and it is the only time you shall ever spill it." He spat upon the ground as an afterthought. "Now, mortal, you must uphold your end of the bargain."
"Might we have a moment to say our farewells?" Jane asked in a small voice.
The General bowed his head slightly. "You may."
Loki found himself being pushed aside as Jane rushed forward to throw her arms around Darcy. He looked away awkwardly as the elder woman began crying softly.
"You idiot, Darcy," she whispered, "why did you do that?"
"It was the only way," Darcy answered confidently.
Loki frowned. Why was she speaking so loudly? And then he heard the tiniest of whispers, something intended for Jane's ears only that even his godly hearing could scarcely detect. "It's all under control."
His heart stopped. Oh no.
Why didn't he realize it earlier? Darcy was up to something. How had he missed it—he, the god of mischief and trickery?
He swallowed the words that threatened to burst forth from his lips. It was too late to warn Darcy to be careful without giving her away. The only thing to do was to wait and see how her plan unfolded.
He tried not to watch her too closely as she broke away from Jane's embrace. He nodded slightly at her by way of farewell, but gave no other indication that he saw her. Her lip quivered slightly, as though she was having second thoughts about her choice. Loki couldn't tell if it was part of the act or if she was truly afraid her plan wouldn't work.
She turned to the General. "Here is my end of the bargain," she said flatly.
Loki waited anxiously to see her next move—would she turn and run? Was she playing along to buy him and Jane time to escape if the jotun went back on their deal?
But Darcy did not step forward or turn around. She reached to her head and plucked a hair from it. Her arm shaking, she held her chin high as she let the strand of hair fall to the ground.
A flood of images filled Loki's mind. The dream. He knew instantly that she was doomed. He watched the lock of hair tumbling in the breeze, and he knew exactly how this dream ended: in agony. Only this time, it wasn't a dream. It was too late.
The General and his guard fell silent as Darcy let her hand fall back to her side. "What is this?" he growled in a low voice.
Darcy folded her hands behind her back demurely. Loki could see her fingers shaking, not from cold but from terror. "We agreed that my companions would not take a single hair from my head away from this realm. They won't. There is your single hair, General, the one they shall not take with them to Asgard. I leave it here, as per our agreement." She bowed her head. "If you will excuse us, then, we must be leaving."
She turned to leave, but was stopped by a booming laugh. She closed her eyes. She realized too late that something was terribly wrong.
"Oho," the General bellowed, applauding sardonically. "Brava, mortal girl. Your tongue is as silvery as that of our slippery Asgardian friend. I daresay you would have made a remarkable team." He smirked, rising to his feet slowly. "A good attempt, mortal. But not nearly good enough."
He barked something in a harsh, guttural language, and his men sprang to action.
Loki reached for the sheath hidden on his upper arm instinctively, placing a hand on Darcy's shoulder to make her face him.
"Run," he said sharply.
"You think?" she deadpanned.
He smiled crookedly and gave her a little push in the right direction. She sprinted away as if her life depended on it, with Jane in close pursuit.
Loki turned to face the oncoming guards, twirling his dagger experimentally. He had no idea how much magic he had left before he became mortal in every sense of the word—he would have to fight this battle on wit and swordplay alone if he wanted to have enough magic and enough time to travel to Asgard safely.
The first guard came at him with no preamble, swinging his axe wildly. Loki ducked, laughing slightly. He had forgotten how much fun sparring with dimwitted, uncomplicated opponents could be. He feinted to the right with his dagger. The giant made to protect itself with a shield; Loki saw an opening on the left, and struck.
He wiped the blade absently on his coat as the next enemy blundered forward. One down, three to…
He hesitated. There had been six guards with the General. Where were the other two?
"Darcy!"
"Less talking, more running!"
"Hold on a minute…Darcy!"
She sighed and staggered to a stop. "What?" she panted. "What could possibly be more important than outrunning angry frost giants with medieval weapons?"
"Why are we running?" Jane pointed out breathlessly. "We need to be with Loki to get away—why didn't we just grab him and transport away?"
"He can't do magic instantly," Darcy said. "I saw some of the spells when I was looking up the Thrice Blood. When he does a transport spell, there's a few seconds of limbo where they could still hurt us—where he's done the spell, but we haven't quite vanished yet." Darcy started running again. "We need to get clear of the guards long enough to travel. Loki's buying us some time. I think he'll catch up."
"Darcy…" Jane said quietly.
"What?"
"Problem!"
Darcy spun on her heel. Two guards were coming towards them down the hall, wielding enormous metal clubs.
"Crap." Her eyes lit up. "Wait…I have an idea…"
Loki slashed the third giant in the leg, splattering jotun blood everywhere. He wrinkled his nose, passing over a possible kill shot. He never had liked that nasty sound effect knives made when they pierced flesh. He needed to cripple, not to kill.
He swiped at the last guard diagonally, aiming for its abdomen, when a piercing shriek filled the air. He stopped mid-swing. That was a Jane scream.
The giant took Loki's hesitation for weakness and stabbed at his jugular. Loki fended off the blow half-heartedly, pricking his ears up to hear signs of a battle elsewhere in the compound.
A thundering sound like two boulders striking each other crashed in the distance. Loki grimaced. This one would have to be inelegant; he had other matters to attend to.
He dispatched the guard efficiently and dashed madly out of the hall. He had to get to Darcy before she did anything reckless to protect Jane.
"Are you trying to cause a cave-in?"
"I'm trying not to die!" Darcy snapped, darting between the two guards clumsily. "Besides, this place is hideous. They should thank me. I'm helping remodel." She ducked a wild swing from one of the giant's clubs. "In a way." She turned off to one side seconds before hitting the wall she was running towards. One of the giants did not have such quick reflexes.
Jane blanched as the guard hit the icy wall with a sickening 'thump' and slid to the ground, unconscious. "The other one's smarter," she shouted. "What do we do with him?"
Darcy shrugged, hurtling over the fallen giant's legs. "I dunno! Improvise something!"
Jane spun around frantically, searching for a tool. Her eyes settled on a jagged icicle. She held it up for Darcy's examination. "What about this?" she yelled. "It's sharp; you could use it as a knife."
Darcy panted, growing tired of the running. "They're—made—of—ice!" she snapped.
Jane blinked rapidly, wringing her hands. She needed to buy some time.
"Darcy!"
Both women turned around at the sound of Loki's voice.
He stopped at the entrance of the hallway, holding his knife's blade by the tips of his fingers. "Duck!" he ordered.
Darcy responded reflexively and fell to her knees. Seconds later, she heard the sound of an object moving very quickly over her head. She glanced up—and dived out of the way just in time.
The sixth guard fell facedown in the space where Darcy had been kneeling moments before, the hilt of Loki's dagger protruding from its back.
Jane sighed, her adrenaline crashing from the battle. "Nice aim," she said mildly.
"I try," he muttered, recovering his knife. He stared at the other giant laying unconscious against the wall. "How'd you manage that one?" he asked in a tone of surprise.
Darcy's answer was cut off by the clamor of armor and footsteps down the hallway. She shook her head. "Later," she stammered. "Get us out of here."
Loki nodded, holding out his elbows as he had done the last time. "Don't let go," he reminded them as they linked arms.
He closed his eyes, trying to drown out the commotion of reinforcements approaching them and focus on the magic.
The General let out a furious roar. "Kill them all!" he bellowed. One of his soldiers notched an arrow in his bow.
Loki screwed his eyes shut tightly, pulling the mortals closer to him, his hand somehow finding the small of Darcy's back protectively.
The arrow whistled through the air…and hit the opposite wall.
The General growled an earsplitting note that made the walls quiver and rain dust upon the room.
"I WILL TASTE BLOOD, LAUFEYSON! THIS MEANS WAR!"