Author's note: Another not-much-happens chapter. Don't worry. More action in the next few chapters.

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Loki never had liked this tapestry much—but it did bring back memories: the time he almost set it on fire, the time he had actually set it on fire, the time when Frigga had just finished a replica to cover up the burned section of the wall only to have Thor immediately tear it with an errant nunchuck. Loki smiled wryly to himself. Nobody had been sad to see the end of Thor's exotic-weapons phase.

"Hey."

He glanced over his shoulder briefly at Darcy…and did a double take.

She looked stunning. He really couldn't think of another word that would encompass the way she looked: pretty, beautiful, gorgeous, breath-taking—none of them did her justice. He had never before seen her in a dress, nor in that color, for which he was silently thankful. If she had been waltzing around Jotunheim looking like she did now, it would have been thoroughly distracting.

He realized that he was staring, and turned back to the tapestry hurriedly. "Good evening," he muttered. Don't look at her. Don't give in. Resist. He studied the stitching in the drapery as though his life depended on it.

She came up beside him, a faint blur of purple and dark brown hair in his peripheral vision. She frowned slightly. "Why is the stitching across the unicorn's neck so much darker than the embroidery around it?"

Loki let his eyes wander towards her for a fleeting second; to not look at her at all would appear suspicious. "Thor tore a shred of the fabric off accidentally when we were younger, essentially decapitating the unicorn. Odin made Thor fix it himself as punishment because Frigga had already sewn it up once that week. Needless to say," he said, "needlepoint is not his forte."

She snorted. "There's a mental image."

He felt the corners of his mouth quirk up in spite of himself. "You have no idea," he said with a small laugh.

Darcy fell silent. She seemed to be thinking about something very intently, debating how to say something uncomfortable, the way she was swaying on the balls of her feet.

"I ran into Thor in the hall," she blurted finally. "He told me what happened." She bit her lip before she spoke again. "I'm really sorry," she said.

"I do not require sympathy," he muttered. "What Odin did was perfectly fair given the circumstances. It is an inconvenience to me, but…I will make do. This is hardly the first time I've gotten myself into serious trouble. I will come up with something," he said confidently. "I'll figure out a way to survive."

Darcy nodded. "Will you stay here?" she asked.

"I'm not quite sure," he sighed. "I need to determine if I'm still truly welcome here after everything I did; Odin and Thor may have forgiven me, but the other Aesir may not be so compassionate. Worst case scenario, I could always take up residence in the realm of my daughter, Hel."

"You'd go to hell? Literally?"

He smiled slightly. "Obviously, it would not be ideal."

Darcy shrugged. "Why not stay on Earth?"

"Midgard?" He gave her a skeptical look. "What would I possibly do there? And how would I settle in? I cannot rely on my magic to alter peoples' memories anymore. Who there would help me, a stranger?"

"I'd help you."

He froze. His ears were filled all at once with a strange rushing sound, as though the possibilities in her words were flooding into his head. But he couldn't have heard her properly. "What?" he asked in a low tone.

She shrugged. "I mean, if you were going to settle on Earth, I'd help you out the best I could. You could camp out in my dorm room for a few weeks while you took care of stuff. You're pretty smart; you could get a job if you wanted." Her eyes lit up. "Oh! Or I could talk to some of my computer science nerd-friends and get them to hack the computers to get you accepted to the school…or at least fake enough documents for you to apply to the school like a normal person."

Loki stared at her, not sure whether to be more bewildered by the unfamiliar things she was talking about or awestruck by the way her eyes were dancing with mischief as she schemed out a theoretical life for him on Earth.

"And you could get a degree, a-and get a job, and a house, and live like a normal person and—"

In retrospect, Loki wasn't sure what propelled him to action in that instant. He didn't consciously move his hands or his face towards Darcy, but there was nobody else in the hall that might have pushed him. It was as though something inside him, separate from his mind, from his rational thinking, was guiding him with invisible strings as though he were a puppet. He closed his eyes, his thoughts fell silent, and he took Darcy's face in his hands.

He kissed her.

He couldn't see her as his lips danced against hers, but he felt her freeze against him for an instant, a brief moment of instinctive terror in her mouth and arms. But then she seemed to melt, as though the shock of the moment fled all at once. He felt her eyelashes brush his cheekbone as she closed her eyes. Her arms wound around his neck. Her fingers made it into his hair, rumpling the usually sleek strands that hung around the nape of his neck.

She kissed him back.

They broke apart after what seemed like a day. Darcy gasped for air as she pulled away from him, the surprise catching up with her mortal lungs. Loki's breath was steady as always, but he was certain that his heart was thudding so hard in his chest that Darcy could feel it.

"Sorry," he stammered, uncharacteristically lost for words. "That was…forward."

Darcy gave a shaky laugh. "Forward? What century are you guys in?" she said teasingly.

Loki stared at her, frowning.

She rolled her eyes jokingly. "Relax, I'm kidding. I think it's cute." She pulled him to her again, kissing him. Normally, Loki would have objected to anyone calling him 'cute.' Yet somehow the furrows in his brow began slipping away.

Jane stormed into the room, her skirt fanning out behind her as the door opened. She stared at the man in armor with fire in her eyes, her hands curled into fists at her sides. "I wish to speak to the All-Father," she said briskly.

The guard blinked at her, apparently confused. "Er, what?"

"The All-Father," Jane snapped, "Odin. There is an important matter of which I must inform him."

The guard didn't respond. He may as well have scratched his head for the lack of understanding in his eyes. "You…want to see the All-Father?" he repeated dumbly.

Jane clucked her tongue irritably and pushed past the guard through the curtained doorway behind him. The sentry made a noise of protest, reaching out weakly as if to stop her, but she was already bursting through the curtain into Odin's meeting chamber.

The old man rose to his feet as Jane entered, his expression flitting within a second from stunned to angry to gentle. "Lady Jane," he said in a tone of surprise, "what brings you here, and in such a temperament?"

She straightened her back, drawing herself up to her fullest height—which was, admittedly, feeble by god standards. "You have denied Loki the Aesir blood he needs in order to heal," she said coldly.

"I did," he confirmed, puzzled. "Justifiably so. Do you question his sentence?"

"Of course I question it," she said. "You punish an innocent man for refusing to give in to a terrorist's demands?"

Odin raised his eyebrows. "Terrorist's demands?" he repeated. "What in the name of Yggdrasil are you talking about?" His one eye widened, suddenly gleaming with suspicion. "Unless…" His face became impassive. "Lady Jane, I think you had best recount exactly what happened on Jotunheim…from your perspective."

"We were taken to the hall of a frost giant general."

"I know of the General, my dear, but what of your negotiations? Did not Loki refuse to comply with the proposed treaty put forth by the jotun people?"

"Yes, he refused!" Jane said furiously. "I hardly think it fair to expect him to die for a treaty, much less use Darcy as a bargaining chip."

Odin stared at Jane. "Darcy?" he said in a hollow voice.

She nodded curtly.

He sank into his chair. "Valhalla," he said softly. "What have I done?" He rested his head in his hands for a long moment, and then turned to survey Jane once more. "So the jotun general gave my son a choice of two treaties, two sacrifices that he could make in exchange for the jotun blood he required and peace between our kingdoms: his own life, which would render the blood moot, or the young woman who accompanied you—Darcy, you say?—as a slave to remain with them for the rest of her days?"

Jane nodded.

"And then what?"

Jane sighed, relenting at the apparent softening of Odin's tone. "Loki refused to give up his life. He then refused to permit Darcy to remain as a slave…quite vehemently," she said. "The general was being an absolute pig. Loki got very angry with him. And then Darcy got her brilliant idea."

Odin's eye narrowed. "What was this 'brilliant idea?'"

Jane rolled her eyes. "She tried to trick the frost giants. She agreed to a very specific contract that she defined, with a loophole that she designed with her word choice. When she attempted to follow through on her loophole…well, it got ugly."

Odin laughed quietly. "Oh, that mortal girl," he said with a small smile. "I expect she could learn much from Loki if they were to spend enough time together." His eye turned downcast. "Unfortunately, she has made a grave error, for she attempted to use a trick that my son once used against the dwarves upon the frost giant race." He shook his head. "Their codes of honor, their ideals are entirely different. The dwarves are an honest race. Not compassionate, but trustworthy. They will keep their word to the letter, and to the intent. When they have been outsmarted, they admit defeat. The jotun on the other hand…" Odin seemed to stare off into space with his one eye, looking without seeing what was right in front of him. "They are a proud race, fearsome and aggressive. They are purely utilitarian. They have no notion of good, no notion of trustworthiness in its purest form. They merely behave in ways that further their own interests. Sometimes civilized behavior suits their purpose. But often it does not." He gave Jane a stern, one-eyed stare. "Your friend has made the mistake of insulting their pride. They do not take insult lightly. Nevertheless," he said gently, "a mistake it was, borne of ignorance, not of willful choice." His lips settled into a thin line, and he fell silent for several moments.

"I have erred," he said, his voice regaining the full, regal quality that it bore when he spoke in the Great Hall. "Go, Lady Jane, tell my son, your beloved: we prepare for war. At morning, we ride." He stood and strode towards the doorway.

Jane hesitated. "Would he not rather hear it from you, sir?"

Odin smiled slightly. "He may, but I have other matters to attend to. My son, Loki, has been wrongly punished…and we shall need all the wit we can procure. I must go. He must become a god once more."

Author's Note: Okay, I lied. A lot happened. But I couldn't have you expecting any of that.