And, yet another prompt done. Yes, this one is extremely long by comparison to the others and I apologize for that. Anyway, hope you guys enjoy this.

Illusinia

Prompt: in the past

From: avengers-tables .livejournal under 50-word prompt (yes, I do intent to use all 50 words)

Pairings: Clint/Darcy

It was the shock that woke Clint. The strike of fictional pain across the back of his head that sent him shooting up in the bed panting. That and the battle he had just witnessed. Somewhere in his mind, he knew the whole thing was a dream but that didn't stop him from panicking.

Beside him, Darcy stirred slightly, then opened her eyes and turned onto her back so she could look at him. Beneath the sheet, he could see the bump where their child rested. Six months pregnant, and Clint felt like Darcy grew more beautiful each day. Somehow, her presence soothed him and right now was no exception. One of his hands came to rest on her stomach, rubbing her bump. Beneath his hand, their child kicked restlessly as if to complain at being awoken by his dream.

"Clint?" Darcy's sleepy voice brought his attention back to her. "Is everything okay?"

He nodded and leaned over to press his face into her neck. "Yeah Darce, everything's fine. Just a bad dream."

She hummed softly and nodded. "Ah, one of those."

Softly, Clint shook his head. "I still don't get how it is you've never had a nightmare."

"I have, remember?" reminded Darcy. "Its dreams I don't have."

"Right," chuckled Clint. "Because you have to be an abnormality in every way."

She responded by smacking his shoulder. "Are you going to come back to sleep?"

For a moment he considered it, but the memory of those images that just awoke him flashed before his eyes. "Probably not. Its," he paused to glance at the clock, "almost 5:30 anyway." With a smile, he leaned down to drop a kiss on her forehead. "You should get some more sleep though."

Darcy nodded with a yawn and rolled over again. "Sounds like a plan."

Smiling, Clint ran a hand through her hair before he got up and padded towards the door, pulling on a pair of pants and a shirt as he went. Rules concerning clothing were pretty liberal at the Mansion given it was owned by Stark, but he still liked to maintain some kind of decency. Plus, when he went without a shirt Natasha, Pepper, and Jane tended to stare without meaning to and it made him uneasy.

Walking downstairs, he was surprised to see the lights in the kitchen on so early. He was even more surprised to find the rest of the household awake. Even if they all looked like hell frozen over. Tony's head was down in his arms, Pepper soothingly stroking his back. Jane was curled against Thor, who looked as upset as she did. Loki was sitting at the counter, rubbing his eyes and looking pale like everyone else, which disturbed Clint more than his dream. Natasha was standing beside Steve, trying to look unaffected even though her own hands were shaking slightly. For his part, Steve was leaning back against the counter with one hand stroking over her back softly. For a moment, Clint wondered if Dr. Banner had been woken as well, but he realized that even if the man was awake, the reinforced room that he slept in would contain his hulked-out form.

He paused in the doorway, examining everyone calmly. "You know, most people have parties during decent hours."

Tony looked up, a weariness painted across his fact that Clint had only seen after a particularly harrowing fight. "The 'Nightmare Club' meets every morning at an ungodly hour. Didn't you get the club memo? Its for everyone who has nightmares."

"So, everyone in the house but Darcy is welcome?" asked Clint as he came to lean against the counter.

Pepper, who was standing beside Tony and looking just a shaken, groaned. "Is it wrong that I envy her right now?"

Clint shrugged. "Not really, I do."

"How is she doing?" asked Jane, slight concern vibrating through her body. "No nightmares herself?"

"If she had one, it wasn't enough to keep her awake," replied Clint with a shrug. "She rolled over and went back to sleep. Well, she's trying to. We'll see if the baby lets her get back to sleep."

The strain on Pepper's face eased a little at the mention of the anticipated new member to their strange household. "Did the baby wake up too?"

"Or was already awake," confirmed Clint with a sigh. "Though I think I woke them both. When I laid my hand on her stomach, the baby kicked me."

"Awe!" cooed Pepper and Jane.

Even Natasha looked interested. "She kicked?"

Clint felt the grin crossing his face. Somehow, it never got old, the feeling he got when thinking about his little child. "Yeah, the baby's been kicking for awhile. And we don't know the sex yet Tasha, so what makes you think its a girl?"

Natasha shrugged. "Call it female instinct."

Sighing, he grabbed a cup and poured some of the coffee in the machine. "Figures."

Thor chuckled slightly. "Listen well to her Clinton. Women know these things far better than us men."

"Hey, she has a fifty percent chance of being right so it could just be a lucky guess too." Darcy's voice echoed from the doorway.

Turning, Clint smiled softly at the dark-haired woman. "Hey Darce, couldn't get back to sleep?"

Darcy shook her head. "You're kid doesn't want to stop doing cartwheels. They're going to be as agile as you are Mr. Gymnastics."

"The baby's moving?" asked Steve, perking up at the sight of Darcy. "Could I, uh, well, would you let me, I mean, er-"

Darcy shook her head as she grabbed Steve's hand and pressed it against her swollen belly. For a second, the super-soldier looked like he was going to blush but Clint guessed the baby chose that moment to kick because his face fell to the wide-eyed look of amazement that Clint was pretty sure he wore every time he saw Darcy. "You don't have to ask Cap, just give me a heads up. I really don't care so long as I know the person wanting to feel the baby."

Smile still plastered on his face, Clint pulled out the small coffee maker Stark had bought for Darcy to make decaf coffee in. As the beans began to brew, Darcy let out a content sigh and moved to sit at the counter beside Loki. The Mischief God gave her a strained smile.

"So, what's everyone doing up anyway?" asked Darcy as she stroked a hand unconsciously over her belly.

"Meeting of the Nightmare Club," replied Tony. "Sorry you weren't invited, but its really only for people who have nightmares."

Darcy just shrugged, then looked around the kitchen with a furrowed brow. "Did all of you have nightmares?"

"Yeah," replied Pepper with a sigh. "It must have been a bad night for sleeping."

Brow still furrowed, Darcy turned towards Clint. "What was your nightmare about?"

Clint shuttered a little at the memory. "Darce..."

"Clint, this is important," cut in Darcy. Everyone was looking at her now, but her eyes were focused on him. "I need to know what your nightmare was about."

He looked at her for a moment but sighed and gave in. Bringing over her coffee, Clint leaned against the counter beside her. "It was weird, my nightmares usually have some tie to reality. But this one, this one didn't relate to anything I've done before.

"It started in this village. An old village. Firewood and drawing water old. The houses and buildings were all flat stone and the roofs were thatched with straw or hay or something like that. Anyway, it started in this old village and everyone was just wondering around like it was a normal day. Then, the horns started up. Suddenly, everyone stopped what they were doing and started running towards where I was except some men who were pulling on armor and grabbing weapons. They started running towards the noise.

"Except suddenly these guys were flooding the village on horseback and foot with circular shields carrying swords, spears, you name it. All kinds of weapons. It was like something out of the medieval era.

"These men just descended on the town and the people defending it. I remember I started running towards the attackers, a spear in hand. My eyes kept darting to this one archer, watching him with fear for some reason. But, instead of joining the attack, I started rushing people out of the town, helping them escape with some women dressed in armor and similarly armed. Some of the men fell back to help us too. That archer was one of them. The village was burning by that point, everything that could. And the men on horseback were charging through, killing people or grabbing them. Women, children, it didn't matter. I remember the last of the people were almost out of the town but there were some that were still being threatened. I saw this one mother with her child clutched against her chest being chased and just reacted. Suddenly I was driving my spear into the mans chest between the plates of his armor and throwing him from his horse. Then I was fighting and the attackers were dieing. And then something hit me on the back of the head and I just, fell. That's about when I woke up."

Darcy reached out to take Clint's hand in support, silent. Loki was rubbing his eyes with one hand, looking upset and across the counter, Thor was looking at the ground uneasily. Everyone else was just looking at him strangely.

"That's the same dream I had," commented Jane uneasily. "Exactly the same."

"Me too," muttered Tony. "How the hell is that possible?"

Darcy sighed unhappily. "That's my fault."

Everyone looked at Darcy, most with raised or furrowed brows. Loki was staring at her with wide eyes and Thor's own looked just as horror stricken.

"By Odin," muttered Loki. "That was your memory."

"Yeah," confirmed Darcy, shifting uneasily. "I see it sometimes when I'm asleep. I didn't realize that I could project it like that though. Sorry guys, I'll try to make sure that doesn't happen again."

"Memory," whispered Jane, who looked shaky again. "T-that was a memory?"

Darcy nodded. "From about 900 or so years ago. For some reason, I can remember pieces of my previous lives. That particular memory is one of a set from that life."

"There's more?" asked Steve uneasily.

She nodded.

"So what happened?" asked Tony, wide-eyed with curiosity. "Seriously, the whole thing just blacked out right there."

"Yeah, getting struck in the back of the head will do that," grumbled Darcy, one hand coming up to subconsciously rub at her head.

Natasha leaned forward curiously. "But you survived."

"Mhm," confirmed Darcy as she stood to put her coffee cup in the sink.

Clint leaned forward as well, brows furrowed. "So what happened next?"

For a moment, Darcy was silent, though she glanced at both Thor and Loki. Thor, for his part, looked more than a little horrified about something and Loki was scowling at his brother. "I don't think that's an appropriate story to tell."

Both of Stark's eyebrows went up. "Now we know the story's good. Spill."

"Why wouldn't it be a good idea?" asked Steve. "Its just a story, right? Its not like it involves anyone here. Well, besides you."

Darcy pressed her lips together and shook her head. "No. Its a bad idea."

Clint took one of her hands carefully. "Darcy?"

"You may tell them if you wish Lady Darcy," offered Thor suddenly. Everyone turned to look at him. He gulped uneasily but continued none the less. "I have learned my errors since that time. What I did then, I am not proud of it and I know now that it was wrong."

"It wasn't wrong Thor," corrected Darcy. "Back then? That was pretty standard. Hell, I'm lucky things went down like they did. If anyone else had taken me, well, things would have gone very differently."

Beside her, Clint stiffened and glared at Thor. "'If anyone else had taken me'? What the hell does that mean?"

"Clint," started Darcy, but Loki cut her off.

"I will tell the story," offered Loki with a scowl. "If Darcy will not."

Darcy looked wide-eyed at Loki, but slumped less than a moment later. She understood his message. "Alright, I'll tell it. But," carefully, she met each person in the room's eyes, "keep in mind that this whole thing happened a long time ago and different things were expected of warriors. What happened then isn't a reflection on anyone now. Got it?"

Slowly, heads around the room started to nod until everyone agreed.

"Good," sighed Darcy. "One thing you all have to understand before I start telling this story is that warriors were expected to take trophies back then. Sometimes that meant objects, sometimes it was prisoners. A warrior who didn't was considered a failure."

Loki scowled some. "The taking of slaves always seemed barbaric to me."

"Which is why things happened the way they did," reminded Darcy gently. One of her hands came to rest on Loki's. "Otherwise you probably wouldn't have stood up for me."

Thor shook his head. "No, Loki would have spoken for you regardless. In our world, when one owes a debt of life to another, it is a serious matter. One that is always honored in whatever way is possible." A slight smirk spread over Thor's face. "Of course, that my brother was smitten with you did not hurt matters."

"Thor," groaned Loki as he dropped his head onto his arms.

Darcy chuckled slightly and rubbed his back. Beside her, Clint wrapped an arm carefully around her waist. She didn't respond except to take his hand and squeeze it gently. "Anyway, just keep in mind that practices like that were common. So, you all saw what happened up until Thor knocked me out-"

"Thor knocked you out?" exclaimed Jane.

"Duh," sighed Darcy. "I was kinda fighting against him. Its not that surprising. Anyway. After Thor knocked me out..."

She groaned softly, head pounding out a beat which could match any war drum in existence. Beneath her, soft fur was spread, but the area underneath was hard a stone. The class of materials made no sense to her confused brain for a moment, but the scent of stone and metal filled her senses. So she was in a prison cell. It was the only space she could think of that smelled as this one did.

Slowly, her head rose and she blinked blurry vision into focus. Around her, walls, ceiling, and floor of smooth stone filled her sight except where a heavy wooden door latched with metal stood. But, the space was clean. Far too clean for a prison cell. Yet, she lay in a prison cell none the less.

Reaching down, she ran a hand over her body, ensuring none of her clothing was displaced or missing. Aside from her weapons, all articles were accounted for. At least that was something. Far worse things could have happened. One hand traced down her body and stroked over her torso carefully. Her hand came into contact with the area where her muscles were gradually softening. Hopefully where ever she was, escape was possible. If not, death would be her path.

Outside the door, a voice boomed down the hallway, one she recognized all too well. It was the voice of one of the attackers. Distinct and loud, the sound had risen above the battle field like a harsh cry. So she had been taken prisoner. Odd that any man would take a woman in armor prisoner, but stranger things had happened.

As his voice and foot-steps grew closer, she stood and drew herself to full height. Whatever abuse they had come to reign upon her, she would fight them every step of the way. Battle was the way of her kind, and she would not give up no matter what they threatened. Death was better than slavery.

The door to her cell was thrown open with a flourish and three armored men stepped into the cell, followed by the man with the booming voice. She would recognize his posture anywhere. Three other men stood behind him, two of whom she recognized as other warriors from the same battle. However, instead of advancing upon her, her captor grinned.

"The Midgardian warrior woman is awake! Excellent!" exclaimed the man. "Do you not believe she will make a fine gift to Lady Sif?"

One of the men, a dower looking man with dark hair, examined her with a critical eye. "She is strong willed and of great prowess with a weapon. Never will her spirit allow her to be made into a servant Thor."

"I agree," spoke up a short, heavy-set man with a long beard. "She will never be broken Thor."

Her captor, the man they called Thor, snorted derisively. "Hardly. She is a mortal woman. Surely she will bow before us as all Midgardians do."

"Never," her voice spit the words as if they were acid. "You are not one of my gods, not the Goddess I am a priestess of. I will never bow before you."

All four men froze, the three behind Thor looking horrified.

Thor just looked livid. "You would dare speak to me in such a way, mortal! I could have your head for your words."

"Then do so," she shot back without fear. "Death is a better fate than being bound to slavery!"

For a moment, Thor raised his hand as if he would strike her, but the third man behind him, a blond man, grasped Thor's arm. "Thor, we must take her before your father. You know the rules concerning prisoners."

"Aie," insisted the heavy-set man. "Leave her be, Thor. Odin will know what to do."

The blond man released Thor, who swept from the room, calling over his shoulder to the guards. "Bring her to the throne room. Immediately!"

While the blond and heavy-set men left the room to follow the man named Thor, the dark-haired one remained behind. He halted the guards as they reached for her, but his eyes never left her own. "Will you come willingly?"

She blinked at him, eyes searching his face for any signs that this was a trick. All she saw was the honor of a warrior and his respect for a fellow warrior. "So long as I am not harassed or assaulted. I reserve the right to defend myself should the need arise."

"No harm will come to you," assured the dark-haired man. Then, much to her surprise, he bowed. "As an extension of peace, allow me to offer my name. I am Hogun."

"The name given when I ascended the priestess-hood was Fionuir," she explained, bowing to Hogun in return. Mutual respect. "It is as much my name as any other I could give."

Hogun nodded, smiled faintly. "It is as much of a name as I could ask for. Please, walk with me."

One of her eyebrows rose, even as she stepped from the cell to stand beside him. "With you?"

"Yes," confirmed Hogun. "I do not agree with Thor taking you as a prisoner. You fought bravely to save those you care for from harm. Such actions deserve respect."

Her head shook slightly, back and forth. "We are trained to fight until the end. Taught that death is better than captivity. It is our way. Help others and defeat your enemy or die trying."

"A good code to live by," confirmed Hogun as he motioned down the hall. His steps were long, but she easily kept pace. "Your people are warriors."

The floor on which they walked was smooth and polished, much as the walls were. Ornate. So different from home. Foreign in a way she did not wish to contemplate. Especially with the names which had been spoken that day. Distraction, she required one if she didn't wish for panic to set in. Focus on the man and his words. "My people were not warriors. We were fishers, farmers, and tenders of livestock. We survived on the land, and allowed it to lead our lives. Very few of us knew how to fight, which is why I learned the art of battle."

Hogun nodded. "An honorable reason."

Silence descended between them as they walked. All that should be said had been. As they rose through the passages, the surrounding area became more ornate and foreign until she felt there was more than enough evidence to confirm her worst fears. Their attackers had been Vikings, she had known this from the start. Further more, she knew of their gods. The names of those who were worshiped in the villages across the sea. Gods such as Thor, Loki, and Odin. She also knew the stories of their world, an ornate and golden world that sat in the heavens. If it was true that she was a prisoner on the world of their gods, a knife would be her fate.

"Warrior Hogun, may I ask a question?" Her query was met with a nod, a motion to continue. "Where are we?"

"Asgard, home of our people," replied Hogun. "Well, I suppose it is my people."

Her eyes dropped to the ground and she felt all hope of escape fade away. "I see."

Their journey continued in silence until at last they stood before a pair of massive doors, gilded with gold and polished smooth. Those doors were pulled open before either individual had actually reached the doorway.

Beyond the doors lay a massive chamber focused around a tall, stepped dais. An ornate chair stood at the top. A throne. Tables were scattered around the room and the high ceiling above caused all who spoke to echo within the space. Numerous people filled the hall, chattering about one thing or another. All were wrapped in silken garments, embroidered with gems and golden thread alike. For less than a second, she felt under-dressed in her armor and heavy, rough-spun clothing meant for function rather than appearance. Those same thoughts were forgotten as quickly as they came.

Neither her nor Hogun had taken a step into the hall that all eyes were turned upon her and her guard. He said nothing, simply motioned for her to step forward, which she did with all the pride that her position and abilities lent to her. She was a warrior, and had been taken by an enemy she would not bow before.

Hogun's heavy footfalls echoed behind her own soft ones as they proceeded towards the throne where an older man with only one eye sat, perched on the throne with the dignity of a ruler. Whispers started as she walked by the gathered audience. Members of the court no doubt. It was only when she stood before the one-eyed man whom she believed to be Odin that those whispers fell silent. The whole hall barely breathed.

For a moment, the man on the throne did little but look at her, eyes tracing over her form and armor. She stood tall, refusing to show any signs of self-consciousness. It was only when his eyes met her own that she realized his actions had been a test.

With the agility of a seasoned warrior, the man stood and descended the steps before his throne to stand before her. "I am Odin Allfather. Speak your name."

"Priestess Fionuir," she offered, though she did not bow or cower. The whispers started again, but a hand from Odin silenced those voices.

Again, he examined her visually. "You show me no respect I see."

"I have no respect for murders, rapists, or selfish men who seek to conquer simply because they can," she replied. "It is for those exact reasons that I came to be here, by the hand of your own son. Showing respect where respect is not felt is a falsehood, something which I am bound not to speak."

For a moment, Odin narrowed his eye at her but seemed to accept her answer none the less. A cry of outrage came from behind the one-eyed ruler, but it was ignored. "You are brave to speak such words."

She shook her head. "I do not wish to be a slave, a fate which I have already been assigned. Death is preferable to such, and is a fate I do not fear. Thus, I feel no need to pacify another, simply because death could be the punishment for not doing so."

Odin nodded. "You know of the reason you were brought here then."

"As a gift," the words were spat, "for a woman named Sif."

Again, a nod from the Allfather. "This is the story my son has told me as well. Thor." Behind the one-eyed man, her captor from earlier appeared. "You intend to present this woman to Lady Sif, correct?"

"Aie father," confirmed Thor, eyes gleaming with threat. "Though it appears she will need to be properly broken first."

For the first time since her arrival, a scowl broke across her face. "Do your worst. I have nothing to fear from you. Your knives can cut and your hands can break, but there is nothing in this world that I have to live for and thus have no concern for such torment."

"Would you fight for your freedom then?" The voice which spoke was smooth, calm and reassuring. The man named Thor raised his eyes towards that voice, as did Odin. She did not turn or remove her eyes from those before her. Instead, she reached out towards the man with her other sight, the more powerful one than her eyes. What she felt was impossible.

"Well?" the voice was closer now as the man finally stepped into view, examining her with the careless eye she had expected from this man. He was thin, not built as the others within the room were though she did not believe that made him any less of a threat. His hair was slicked away from his face, black and gleaming the light tossed from the scattered fires within the room. Green eyes which resembled jewels in their color met her own.

There was no hesitation in her voice. "I would prefer to fight for my freedom. Death is preferable to slavery."

The man nodded and turned towards Odin carefully. "This seems fair, does it not?"

"I do not follow you brother," growled Thor uneasily. "She is my captive, I may do with her as I please."

The pale man nodded. "Of course you may Thor, do not misunderstand me. However, if I understand the story correct, she is only in your possession because you struck her over the head. An unfair tactic in battle if I recall. Your words, not mine."

Thor sputtered a bit and looked to Odin who was looking back at his son with eyes that conveyed his displeasure at hearing how she had come to be a captive. That same eye then returned to his other son. "What do you propose, Loki?"

The black-haired man, Loki, smiled faintly. "A fight for her freedom. Allow her and Thor to enter into combat. If she can disarm or disable him, grant her the freedom she might rightfully deserve. However, if Thor is able to disarm or disable her, clearly she does not deserve freedom." His eyes fell to her again. "Do these terms suit you?"

It was a tricky proposition. She knew there was a chance that she might loose to Thor, but that threat was worth it. Otherwise, her fate was sealed. "I agree."

Loki grinned. "Very well, father? I would ask Thor but his answer is already known."

"You cannot know such a thing, brother!" exclaimed Thor angrily.

The other man scoffed. "Please Thor, you would rather not risk loosing your new toy if you can avoid it. Hence my asking Father rather than you what should be done."

All eyes fell to Odin then, waiting on his answer. He merely nodded. "Loki's proposal is a fair one. Rendering an individual unconscious by striking them in the back of the head with the intention of taking them as a prisoner is unbefitting behavior for a warrior. A rematch will be held."

"Excellent," confirmed Loki as he spun to face her. "Fionuir, was it?" She nodded. "Right then, lets get you fed, bandaged, and find a weapon for your use."

Thor looked as if he wanted to object, but a hand motion from Odin halted the mans tongue. "I am placing her in your care Loki."

"Of course Father," assured Loki as he led her from the room. It was only when they were out of the hall, behind the closed doors of another chamber, that Loki spoke again. "I'm sorry for all of this Fi."

Her eyes examined him calmly, even as he placed a plate of fruit, meat, and bread before her on a table. "You are the man from the woods."

"The one you saved," confirmed Loki. "And I swear, my presence in your village had nothing to do with the attack. Unfortunately, this is all a horrible coincidence."

She nodded quietly, picking up a piece of fruit and biting carefully into it. "None the less, I must thank you for standing up for me today, though I do not know why. I am a prisoner of your people, regardless of how I was brought here. Correct?"

"No," replied Loki with a shake of his head. "Father long ago spoke against the taking of prisoners if they were not taken in a fair fight. Women notably and the conductors of religious ceremony especially."

"I see." Her eyes were glued to the plate before her, uncertain what to think. This man had sat before her on many occasions, partaking of a meal with her and the archer Cumhai. Cumhai, she hoped he lived. Without thought, her hand came to rest against her lower belly.

From across the table, Loki watched the motion and swore. "You are with child."

"Yes," she sighed, looking up at him with the same calm eyes he had looked into when injured. "By almost two months."

Again, he swore. "I should have noticed." In that instant, he was on his feet and pacing again. "I will have to speak to father, cancel this whole mess. There is no way I can allow you to enter into battle knowing you carry Cumhai's child."

One of her hands came to rest on his arm as he passed, drawing his attention to her. "Lopt, I must do this. Freedom is not attainable otherwise and I would take my own life before allowing my child to be born into slavery."

Loki sighed heavily. "It is Cumhai's child, correct?"

"Yes."

He chuckled slightly and retook his seat. "Then I feel the need to inform you that the child would never have remained in slavery. I would have taken the child before allowing such a thing and even if I could not, the child will be a skilled warrior which would have allow them to win their freedom."

Her eyes rose to his, wide with surprise. "You would do such a thing?"

"Would have," corrected Loki. "I do not foresee you loosing this particular battle."

She refocused on the food before her, picking at the bread. "You sound so confident in my abilities."

"There is something about you that I have been unable to place but can recognize as a form of power," explained Loki. "You are strong and wise, as skilled with a spear as with a pestle. Somehow, I feel you will win regardless of what you believe."

Sighing, she finally bit into the bread and chewed, considering his words as she did so. Swallowing, she feel the need to point one thing out. "You cannot know any of this."

Loki smiled gently. "No, I cannot know per say, but it feels like the truth none the less."

Returning his smile with one of her own, she nodded. "Did your brother take my weapon from the field or will I need to handle an unfamiliar one?"

"You can't stop there!" exclaimed Tony as Darcy paused from her long-winded explanation.

One of her eyebrows rose in response. "Uh, what?"

Steve coughed uneasily. "Um, I think Tony means that he doesn't want you to stop. Telling the story that is."

"I'm not," replied Darcy with a slight grin. "I'm just grabbing some water." Her eyes slid to Tony, then across every face in the room. Short of Loki and Thor, everyone appeared riveted. Loki looked supportive, if not a little pissed, and Thor looked like a child being lectured. For a moment, her heart went out to him. Then she remembered the crap he'd pulled that had gotten her into that mess to begin with. "Well, I promise, I'll continue. Just give me a minute."

"Good," muttered Tony. "Cause I wanna know if you got free."

Clint nodded. "And I need to know if I need to kick Thor's ass or not."

"As if you could," muttered Thor, but Darcy shot him a look that had him sulking again.

"Easy there boys," soothed Darcy. "Remember, this shit happened a long ass time ago and doesn't relate to anything here and now." Raising her glass, she took several gulps and sighed happily. "Now, lets see if I can finish this story before Clint's acrobatic kid decides to sit on my bladder again. So, as I was saying..."

The hall was loud with the clatter of spectators. Men and women alike crowded about to watch the bloodshed that they felt was sure to take place, or at least watch as a slave and woman who had chosen to so blatantly insult their king was turned to her place. Her eyes moved over all as they stared on at her.

Of course, she was aware of her appearance, had seen it before stepping into the training room. Scraggly hair hanging about, deep blue eyes rimmed with dark circles from a lack of true rest. Her body was far smaller than Thor's, arms thinner and frame shorter. What could not be seen though was the magic inside her that had allowed her to obtain priestess-hood. The power that thrummed through her veins and sang with the echo of power which vibrated throughout this place.

Both of her hands gripped the spear which Loki had presented her with just outside the battle room. Her armor had been returned as well, worn though it was. Loki had offered new armor, nearly begged her to take something other than the beaten leather she wore. But there was more to the strips of leather than met the eye, which was exactly why she needed her armor specifically. It was bad enough the weapon she held was foreign to her...

Applause and shouts filled the room as Thor strode into the room, waving about his hands and his hammer. Marks of the victor and a show of arrogance that allowed her to see, just for a moment, why Loki had encouraged this fight. His brother needed to be taught a lesson in humility. Too bad she wasn't certain in her abilities to teach that specific lesson.

Behind Thor, Odin entered as well with two women beside him. One was a blond woman, older, who's hand he held with reverence. His wife most likely. The other was a dark-haired female, the only dark-haired female that she had seen since arriving. This second woman was wrapped in a beautiful gown of red and would have looked like a perfect woman were it not for the sword which hung at her side. Thor greeted this second woman with a bow.

"Lady Sif, my friend," spoke Thor as he took the dark-haired woman's hand. Silently, she watched as Sif raised her eyes momentarily to glance at Loki.

Beside her, she felt Loki shift as he caught Sif's eyes as well. It was hard to keep the smile from her face. "Ah, so this is not solely because I saved you then."

Loki glanced her way with a raised eyebrow. "How do you mean Fi?"

"You are enchanted by this Sif as much as your brother."

He chuckled. "Correct except in one regard: Sif has already made her choice. She simply has not voiced it yet."

"I see." Sif was eying her strangely, as if she did not appreciate Loki's apparent attention towards another female. "She doesn't seem to care much for me."

Loki shrugged faintly. "I may have mentioned you a few times. Apparently doing so equates to admitting attraction."

One of her own eyebrows rose much as Loki's had. "You have odd traditions then."

"Indeed," muttered Loki just as Odin raised his hand for silence.

"My fellow Aesir," began Odin, "we stand now in this room to observe a battle staked upon an injustice done on the battlefield. The terms are as follows: should Priestess Fionuir disarm or disable my son, she shale be granted her freedom! However, should Thor do the same to her, then she will remain his slave to do with as he pleases. These are the terms, are there any objections?"

Loki shifted uneasily but a glare from her halted his movements. When a moment had passed without a single individual voicing an issue, the Allfather motioned for both her and Thor to step into the middle of the floor. Thor did so with the flourish of a man certain of his victory. Her own steps were sound, though without the assured nature of Thor's.

Odin glanced between both of them before stepping back and dropping his hand in the space between them. "Begin!"

Thor did not wait for a second before he attacked, moving so rapidly forward she barely had time to shift and dodge. His hammer struck the ground where she had been seconds before. Speed would be one of his advantages, but she had fought faster. It was the strength he wielded which would prove the true test. With a growl of rage, he pulled his hammer from the ground and charged at her again, except this time she was ready.

Spear held forward, she took a stance that was as deceptive as it was accurate. Spear extended outwards, it appeared that one would attempt to skewer their opponent on the end. Which was a way to handle such things, but not the one she took. However, Thor would be forced to deal with the spear head before he could get to her, which would put him in a position she wanted.

As predicted, he swung at the end of her spear, sending it pointing away. Without hesitation she released the weapon and rolled forward, dropping to the ground in a motion that had her under and behind Thor in a matter of seconds. Before he could turn, one of her hands touched the back of his neck. A scream of agony flew from his mouth and the giant of a man fell to his knees. And in that second, the battle was over. She had won.

Cries of outrage and anger rose from the crowd. Voices denouncing her victory and the way she had obtained it. Still, when she raised her eyes from the twitching blond man on the ground, Odin looked pleased and Sif had allowed both eyebrows to climb nearly into her hair.

Without any fanfare, Odin rose and waved his hand to indicate an end to the fight. "Victor: Fionuir!"

An angry sort of sound seemed to come from Thor, but it was hard to say. He still lay twitching on the ground. Loki pulled her into a hug, showing his support in a way she hadn't intended.

"Brilliant Fi, simply brilliant," muttered Loki as he pulled away. "You have done something no other has."

A faint smile crossed her lips as one of her hands came to rest on her stomach. "I had something to attempt to fight for."

Loki nodded and turned to Odin. "Her victory was clear Father. Thus, I ask permission to return Priestess Fionuir to Midgard."

"Permission granted," agreed Odin with a wave of his hand.

Grinning, Loki motioned for Sif to come as well and led both women towards the Bifrost.

"...and that's what happened," sighed Darcy before she gulped down another glass of water.

Jaws were definitely hanging around the room, save Thor and Loki of course. Loki appeared to be lost in memory, probably recalling some meeting with Sif that no one was supposed to know about, and Thor looked more than a little ashamed. Jane wouldn't even look at him.

"I can't believe this," muttered Jane as she shook her head angrily. "Thor, how could you! Taking a pregnant woman as a slave! Taking any woman as a slave!" The ranting continued from there, but Darcy ignored it in favor a leaning over to speak with Loki.

"You know, it's probably a good thing I didn't mention the part about how I was pretty damn sure Thor would have considered raping me had he won," muttered Darcy to Loki.

Loki snorted. "Considered?"

The two exchanged glances and shook their heads in unison.

"I'm so glad those days are gone," sighed Darcy.

"As am I," agreed Loki. "Some things were appealing though."

"Being close to nature," agreed Darcy.

"The fine craftsmanship of jewelery and weapons," pointed out Loki.

"The simple nature of life."

"The simplicity of society."

"Horseback riding."

"Magic."

"You know, I think this wins 'weirdest conversation of the year'," commented Tony as he looked between the Norse God of Mischief and the very pregnant mortal girl of many lives.

Both Darcy and Loki looked at Tony, then shook their heads. Simultaneously. Though he'd never admit it, even Clint was freaked out. And he lived with Darcy.

"No where near weirdest conversation," assured Darcy.

Loki nodded. "There was a stranger one, though again it was a conversation between myself and Darcy."

Darcy made a bit of a 'eh' sound but nodded none the less. "Yeah, the weirdest conversation was probably the one about phrases."

"And their origin," agreed Loki. "As well as the one about Norse Mythology on your planet."

"I still think the bit where they compared Baldu with Jesus and thus demonized you is just messed up," pointed out Darcy.

Loki nodded. "You and my immortal daughter alike. Though our discussion about multiple dimensions was rather entertaining as well."

Tony's eyes jumped between the two, attempting to follow their conversation but eventually giving up. Instead, he opted to go drag Pepper back to bed. Steve left as well, deciding that the conversation between Jane and Thor didn't need to be over-heard by others. A particularly nasty snippet of conversation from Jane flew through the room in a not-so-quiet manner, catching Darcy and Loki's attention. Both turned back towards the astrophysicist who appeared to be verbally beating up the God of Thunder.

"Should we intervene?" asked Darcy uncertainly.

"No," replied Loki calmly. "Let Thor handle this on his own. He needs to be capable of admitting to his past mistakes, otherwise their relationship will not hold true."

Darcy nodded and slid from her stool, grabbing Clint's hand as she did. "Come on Clint, lets get back to our room. Your little gymnast finally settled down and I want to either have sex or sleep during the lull. Take your pick."

Clint chuckled and moved so his arm was around Darcy. "I like option B."

"Option B it is then!"

And long chapter. Woot. Sorry this took so long to write, but I kept getting interrupted by life and people needing me to edit/proof papers among other things. Anyway, let me know what you guys think. Sorry if there was anything over the top in this or that didn't make sense.