A/N- The reviews blew me away yet again, despite the stupidly long time it takes for me to update (my apologies… again.) First of all… Thanks to everyone who favourited/followed, and thanks to:

RhizOneill (I'd give him a hug… or get Darcy to!), icesong180 (truthfully, I have no idea where I'm going with this, but Loki will be happy, I promise!), Gyoro and Ururun (I know… I'm working on making them as miserable as possible!), Barefoot Beach Bum (Thank you! I'll try update asap, and I'd love to hear your ideas!You should write them!Msg me and we can obsess!), ShortieHeichou (I'm working on it! ), mnemosyne23 (Agh, I know. I feel bad for the torture!),fan-de-carlisle-cullen (Idunn is a bitch, but for good reason hah! Forseti will get his comeuppance.), Soupcan (Thank you so much!),BlueEarings (No problem! Just glad I have time to write!),Lady Astophyra (Thanks- I'll try!),jaquelinelittle (I know, but where would the angst be without Odin and Idunn being stupidly difficult!),LydiaLovegood (Thank you so much! I'm always worried she's OOC sometimes!), Guest (thank ya!), jlklai98 (Hope I satisfied your asdfkafsdfk feelings ha! Thanks!), Wineandwhiskey (Thanks and sorry for the wait!) and CamilleRomance (thanks- it's just the kick I needed to find some time to write!).

You're all fabulous (hope I haven't missed anyone!)

Whew. Anyways… onto the story...!

Chapter 11

Before Thor, Jane and Sif returned, Darcy cleaned herself up with the belongings brought to her.

She took a shower, feeling a lot better despite the huge weight on her shoulders. Whilst the hot water soothed her, she tried her best not to break down completely, knowing that when she saw the others again, they would notice her red eyes and unhappy demeanour. Instead, she wondered idly where Loki had wandered off to. Had he not even given a damn about her and left her alone? She sighed. Darcy took a deep breath and stepped out of the cascade of warm water.

She towelled herself dry and got into her clothes, wishing she had a pair of jeans. She'd have to settle with a dress for now, until the Asgardians sent her home, which she hoped would be sooner rather than later. It was a childish thought, but she was dreading a lifetime here in posh dresses and golden jewellery, and the delay would be welcomed.

She stopped beside a golden framed mirror, looking at herself for a long time. She hadn't changed a bit. She'd thought that the change to Aesir might have cleared up her skin or made her look stunning, but she was still plain old Darcy Lewis, just without the glasses. She was thankful of her improved eyesight, but she felt lost without the comforting plastic resting on her nose. Stuffing them in her bag, she sighed and pulled a childish face at her reflection.

"Stupid." She muttered at herself before walking away.

She headed back to her bedside, where, thankfully, they'd stripped and replaced her yellowing sheets for crisp white ones. She sat down on the side of the bed, dumping her bag on it ungraciously, waiting for them to return. Frigga had gone to consult with her husband, who were arranging her passage back to Midgard. Thor, Jane and Sif had disappeared with the promise they would return after she had freshened up.

She was close to having another breakdown as she looked up and down the empty hall, until something piqued her interest, and took her attention away from matters (although, she argued, it didn't take much). On the side was a dark, heavy looking book, with strange looking runes down the spine. It was old and tattered, lying cover up on her side-table. She didn't need the heartfelt tattered note inside to know whose it was. She read it with a sad smile, wondering vaguely what it was doing there.

To my dearest son,

Take comfort in the knowledge that lies in these pages. I have taught you everything I know, and still you continue to learn and surpass my own skills. I am so proud of you.

It was hard imagining Loki as innocent, whose mother dearly doted on him. Frigga must have been proud of him at one point. She had sat down with him, feeding him knowledge and magic, knowing he couldn't possess what Thor had now. Knowing that he wasn't her real son. She slammed the book shut, feeling a wave of emotion hit her. As she saw Jane, Thor and Sif return, and smiled as best she could, swallowing down the feeling of homesickness and general tiredness that had accompanied her since she had woken up. She noticed Fandral following behind them, a spring in his step and a smile on his face.

"You took your time." She was about to make a quip about dying of old age, but stopped herself, knowing it would make her emotional. "The showers here are awesome, I swear the water pressure-"

She paused as she saw Thor stride up to her, his face determined. She put the book down quickly, confusion in her features as Thor took her by the shoulders. His grip, she knew, was meant to be comforting, but it was too tight to be anything but a death-grip.

"What? What is it?"

"Darcy. I apologise, for what has happened here. You're our guest, our friend… We shouldn't have…" He looked pained, and Darcy stared at him with confusion, looking back at Jane, who wore the same expression. Sif just looked downright angry, and Fandral smirked.

"What? What do you mean?" Surely Frigga hadn't broken their promise and told them about the Apple business?

"I am sorry, Darcy. It's Loki; he has confessed to your poisoning."

"Loki?" She said in disbelief, standing up. "But…"

"I told you." Fandral interjected proudly. "He was not to be trusted. He has safely returned to his cell, Lady Darcy, never fear." He smiled charmingly at her, a smile which she did not return.

A dozen questions ran through her mind. How could he do this to her? She knew he wasn't exactly 'keep my darkest secrets' material, but she felt like they were making some sort of progress in his indifference. She had been surprised to notice that maybe the God did have a heart, but now she was downright pissed off. She shook her head.

"It still doesn't make any sense, Fandral." Sif frowned, pushing past. "He came here every day to sit by the mortal's side. Whilst I was charged with regularly checking her status, I found him sleeping by her side for days. He only left when he was taken to his cell. It doesn't make any sense."

"A show, Sif. He –" Fandral started to speak when Darcy butted in. She put her hand up.

"Hold up. Loki visited me?"

"A show." Fandral insisted.

"But he admitted it!" Sif shouted, obviously torn and frustrated, just as Darcy was. Fandral took a moment of silence as he comprehended this. Darcy glanced at Thor, who had stayed silent, clutching Mjolnir in his huge hands. Darcy sighed.

"Where's the Queen?" She asked, sick of their arguing.

"Likely arguing with the King," Sif said hesitantly. "She wishes a full investigation, whereas the Allfather does not desire such a thing."

"Why doesn't he want an investigation? Is Queen Frigga arguing that point? And her son's?" Darcy finished her frustrated rant with a clearing of her throat, watching the expectant face around her. They were quiet until Thor spoke up hesitantly.

"She is trying to call off the torture." Thor said quietly, twirling Mjolnir in his hands.

Darcy felt a stab of pain, as if someone had punched her. Loki had been tortured before, she tried to tell herself. For all of those people he murdered. But this time, she heard it confirmed by Thor, and worry made an uncomfortable home in her heart.

She knew what she was about to do now would get in her in huge trouble, and would likely confuse most Asgardians (and herself).

Sif saw Darcy's hand dash to the gem on her necklace, and drew her knife, slicing at the silver chain with frightful accuracy. Darcy flinched at the blade's proximity to her neck, and leant back in time for Sif to miss the chain by millimetres. In turn, Darcy went to grab the handle of Sif's blade, glinting against the Asgardian sunlight.

Her grip was tight, but Darcy managed to disarm her, clearly underestimating her in a non-battle environment. She saw the surprise in Sif's face when she disappeared with her weapon, reappearing in a darkened cell. Sif must have thought she was still recovering from her temporary sleep (no, she wouldn't admit to being in a coma) and underestimated her reflexes. In truth, she never felt better, despite her poisoning.

The last thing she saw was the surprised faces of Fandral, Thor and Jane, who'd all rushed forward and missed her by milliseconds. Sif looked furious.

"Ciao." She muttered, sighing at the close call and thanking those community defence classes she'd taken in college. She stopped in the dark corner of the cell, wondering why the hell she was even here. He could've poisoned her. And yet she tried to push that to the back of her mind. She damned her abilities to see the best in people, and she didn't even know what she saw in Loki. Damaged goods maybe? She gave up trying to find whatever it was.

She gripped Sif's weapon in her hand tightly, the worn leather handle feeling foreign against her skin. She wished she had her taser instead. Her feet felt disgusting against the dirty stone floor, and she shivered, trying to ignore the nauseating mouldy stench of the place.

"I don't want another conversation, Idunn." She heard Loki mutter in his sarcastic tone. Idunn? Darcy took a few steps forward, her eyes adjusting to the darkness and was about to answer when another voice beat her to it.

She stifled her gasp and stood as still as she could, undetected. Lucky it was so dark. Hiding in the shadows seemed too easy for her. Her eyes made out Loki's form in the corner, slouched against the wall. But he wasn't alone.

It was only then when he started talking. "If I were Idunn, I'd be offended. But I know you want to talk to me, Uncle Loki. There now seems to be a gaping hole in your security by the way… You're welcome, but I honestly wouldn't use this opportunity to escape. Especially when you're with me."

"Baldrson." Loki gave a name to the man stood beside him. She squinted in the darkness, seeing Loki stand up. She expected him to tower over Baldrson, but they were nearly equal in height. Darcy squinted through the darkness to make out something, anything. But he had his back to her, so all she could see was a tall, muscly man with golden hair. It could've been anyone. She shifted slightly, trying to get Loki's attention, but it seemed fixed on this Baldrson man.

"Did you miss me, Loki?" His voice was low and menacing. Darcy felt a chill go through her. She flinched when she saw Baldrson's fist make contact with Loki's cheek, his fingers gripping his collar, stretching the already baggy material. Loki grunted softly before looking back at Baldrson, his fist pulled back again, poised to strike him. She knew she should probably transport and call for help, but her feet were planted firmly on the cold floor, frozen.

"I come with good news. Your mortal is awake. Buuut, she doesn't seem mortal, does she? Do you want to tell me why or do I have to plant you in the middle of Jotunheim for my army of Frost Giants to tear you apart? Although," he stopped and shrugged, "that may happen anyway."

"No, I don't wish to tell you." Loki sneered, trying his hardest to be as cryptic as possible, through his reluctant but compulsory use of the truth. Forseti let another punch fly, striking him over and over until Loki struggled to breathe. "You may look like your father… but you are definitely not him… The brother…I knew was not …a petty imbecile-"

Forseti drew him closer, pulling the fabric tight about his neck.

"Don't you dare talk about my father." He exchanged his grip on his collar for a tighter one around his neck He tightened his grip visibly. "I should kill you right now, trickster. You don't deserve to breathe this air."

Loki clawed at his fingers frantically, feeling lost without the use of his magic, which he was unable to use in his cell. He tried to pry the fingers from his neck, but his strength had all but left him. He hated the thought of dying here, in the petty clutches of Forseti Baldrson, being beaten to a pulp.

He didn't see Darcy until she sank the blade into Forseti's shoulder. Forseti let go of him with a pained snarl, pulling the blade out and turning on Darcy, whose triumphant expression turned into one of terror as she recognised Loki's attacker. He flitted back to his other mask for a split second, smiling whilst doing so. He looked insane.

"Y-you?"

Forseti smiled, and pushed her forcefully with his free hand, her back colliding with the wall. She let out a yell when her head smashed against the cold stone, leaving her dizzy and disorientated. She hoped that the guards would come running with her yell (although she later realised Forseti would've disposed of them). He looked at Sif's blade in his hand and smiled menacingly, before throwing it away into the corner and advancing on her.

"The Midgardian. Great to see you again, Darcy. I see you've recognised me." His charming smile became malicious as he snarled at her. "Ohh, you don't deserve the air you breathe either. You're as bad as each other. Well… Maybe not." He looked at Loki, who was barely conscious, trying to claw his way toward them both.

His hands gripped her neck with urgency, as they did with Loki. Struggling to breathe, she managed to lift her arm enough to squeeze as hard as she could on Forseti's shoulder, where the knife had sunk into his skin. He cried out, as Loki mustered the strength to grab him from behind, pulling him away from Darcy. She fell to the floor in an instant, her fingers clawing at her sore neck, gasping for breath.

The heavy cell door crashed open. Darcy saw Sif burst in, knives at the ready. She took in what was happening quickly. Her hand went to her waist, producing a small blade. She moved quickly, but Forseti was quicker. With a snarl, he disappeared into thin air, the blade flying through where his head would've been. It fell to the floor with a clang.

Darcy caught her breath as Loki made his way over to her on his hands and knees. He examined the red finger marks on her throat with surprising tenderness and Darcy had to restrain herself as he half collapsed on her. She pushed him away, feeling the dead weight of him as his head rested on her shoulder.

"'M fine. Get away. Your hair is in my mouth. Eugh." She pushed him off and got up, dusting herself off. He did the same, but with less enthusiasm and fluid movement.

"What are you doing here, Darcy?!" Loki shouted at her, hunched over and holding the wall for support. "You could've been killed!"

Sif was about to interject when Darcy huffed. Sif raised her eyebrows and folded her arms, watching the two bicker.

"Well, I just saved your skin. You're welcome. Even though apparently you tried to kill me. What the hell are you spouting?" She looked everywhere except his way, and was torn between accusing him or defending him. She suddenly felt tired, worn out by bothering to care. "Well?"

Instead of answering, Loki stared at her, jaw set, until Darcy felt Sif's hand on her arm. Sif pulled her back gently. Darcy fought back though Sif's hand stayed on her shoulder, determined to talk sense into Loki.

"I thought…" Darcy trailed off, not knowing what to say next. That he had a heart?

"You thought?" He spat. "You thought, what? That I cared? I try my hardest not to, it's usually my downfall."

"Oh, and attempting to kill everyone is better?" She shook herself out of Sif's loose grip and clapped her hands sarcastically. "Yeah, sounds like a great plan."

"How would you know?" He stared at her as he had once stared at his prey. Darcy swallowed, feeling threatened by this version of Loki. She tried not to appear scared, and set her shoulders.

"Because stabbing that Forseti dude did not feel great." She rolled her eyes. "As much as I love a good fight and a bit of taser-ing, killing and maiming is actually overrated. I have no idea what makes you feel great about it."

"You think I kill people without purpose?"

"Oh, so it's purpose is it? What purpose? To be royal? To be King? You could just be content with what you have! Or had. Seeing as you've thrown it away. God, you should've known you had no chance, Loki. Why did you even bother?!"

"Shut up!" He screamed, his chest heaving under his tattered clothing. "You know nothing!"

Sif stood in the background, unsure whether to get between the argument, or go find help that had scattered around the castle, looking for Darcy's whereabouts. She was dumbfounded. No one had talked to Loki like this before, other than Odin, and even then, their arguments were short lived, but frequent.

"I could've helped." She said in a low voice.

She got a scoff in return.

"I know you didn't poison me." She said, still not entirely believing the words she said. "It was him, wasn't it? Forseti."

He felt the most human he had ever done in a while. Despite her insults and choice words, he wanted to throw his arms around this strange woman and claim her completely, savagely. But what came out of his mouth weren't words of love, or truth. They were manufactured lies. And he couldn't stop it.

"You believe that?" Loki sneered. "Why? You're an ant."

"This is bullshit!" Darcy fought back tears. They weren't of sadness, but of frustration. Part of her wanted to just leave him here, to leave Asgard and never think of this again. But then the other part wouldn't let her forget him. She didn't know why, but she knew something was wrong.

"I don't know why, but you're lying!" She screamed at him. "Why do you always lie?"

Loki blinked. He was no longer angry at her, or himself. He was surprised at her insistence. Her faith in him. Again, his kind words were pulverised into dirt.

"That's what I do. I lie, and murder." Loki looked at his nails nonchalantly, caked with dirt already. "Is that a shock to you?"

Sif decided that it was a good idea to get between them at this point, having been shocked into silence by their bickering.

"Darcy."

"What?!" She shouted irritably, before her face softened. "Sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you."

"We should-"

"Leave?" She glanced toward Loki, meeting his eyes before looking back at Sif. "Yeah, we should. But I need to see the King. I need to see Odin and make this mess right again. I know what I saw."