A/N- Whew. We're finally here...

Chapter 16

When Darcy finally mustered up the courage to open her eyes she was in a dim cavern, surrounded by moss covered walls that seemed to close in on her with every glance their way. She blinked, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. Move, Darcy, she screamed at herself, her feet cemented to the floor in fear.

She glanced to the cascade of water that ran down one side of the cavern. It was like the hidden caves in the books she'd read as a child, situated underneath a noisy waterfall. But instead of marvelling in its beauty, she looked around quickly, urgently. How the hell was she meant to get to Jotunheim from here?

"Think."

Her feet finally found feeling and she stepped cautiously toward the middle of the cavern. In the centre there stood a platform not unlike the Bifrost's, with a rusted sword cast into a moss-strewn rock. She carefully lifted the sword in shaking hands, her arms barely able to lift the heavy iron. It was times like these when she wished she'd checked out Heimdallr's muscles. It must've taken a lot to lift that golden sword of his.

With a silent promise to herself that she'd do all the checking out there was to be done when she got back, she struck the sword back into the slot, feeling the vibrations of it underneath her fingertips. The cave around her began to move, spinning in a slow circle that had her clutching for something in support. Her grasping fingers found sharp, moss covered rock as the gravelly sound of rocks crashing together grew louder.

"Holy shit." She whispered under her breath, before she felt the jolt of her body move through the branches of Yggdrasil to Jotunheim. Thankfully, she didn't faint this time, taking in the colours of the journey, the stars whizzing past her. It was beautiful… until she touched down on Jotunheim.

Not that it wasn't beautiful, per se. But when the first thing her mind registered was the cold, she wasn't exactly delighted. Asgard had this sort of temperate climate about it, not too hot or cold at once. But this place was sub-zero. She drew her furs around herself, thankful that Frigga had thought of the temperature. Darcy half wondered whether the shake of her body was related to the cold or just sheer fear.

After stepping out of the small crevice of the snow covered rocks behind her, she looked about her with a sense of desolation.

So this was where Loki was born.

To her far right, she could make out ruins, or what looked like ruins, sharp rocks jutting up in the distance. She was unlikely to get to them even if she had wanted to, as there was a deep ravine that way, separating herself from what she presumed a Jotun civilisation. Although she had set off in the beautiful midday sunshine of Asgard, Jotunheim was depressingly dark, the sky covered in grey cloud spanning as far as she could see.

It was not as welcoming as Asgard had been, that was for sure.

It was only then she heard the voices. Listening hard, she made out a cry of pain coming from behind a hill that looked as if it was made purely of ice covered granite and sharp juts of black rock.

As she scrambled up the hill, she prayed to any god listening, be it Odin or even Vishnu, she wasn't bothered. As long as she could get out of this alive. Darcy Lewis wasn't afraid to say she was well over her head. But, much like her college finals, she pushed through, pushing down exhaustion and despair.

She reached the peak of the hill, lying on her stomach and peering down the slope of rocks to the two figures below. Usually, she'd have to squint to see the scene below her, but being Aesir came with its perks- like HD quality eyesight, something that Darcy was delighted to realise. She instantly recognised Loki- her fluttering heart froze. He had collapsed in the snow like a wounded animal, his long limbs curled up into a foetal position. She had never seen him so vulnerable, even in the cell he had once called home, curled into the corner like a pitiful animal.

But pity and worry turned to confusion as she saw Forseti clutch at his chest, circling Loki and holding in the scarlet blood that dripped and dyed the snow underneath Forseti's feet.

She frowned to herself, half wondering if Forseti's army was close. Darcy's eyes scanned the wasteland and saw nothing. No army. Nada. Zilch. There was even no evil sidekick beside Forseti. What the hell? Was this the reason the Queen thought she had a chance? Because he was alone? If that was the case, Darcy wondered how Loki hadn't taken him down already.

Despite Forseti's obvious wound, he smiled and eyed his prey.

"… and to think, I made this pyre for you, uncle." He gestured to the neatly stacked pile of logs to the side and smiled.

Instead of continuing his animalistic circling, he stepped forward, his face almost feral with the feeling of a successful hunt. Forseti brushed the golden hair from his eyes before lifting Loki by the scruff of his neck, dragging him across the ice. She saw Forseti wince as he went to clutch at his chest, his wound bleeding heavily as he dragged Loki to the pyre. Darcy held back a whimper when she saw the scarlet trail Loki left in the snow. Loki didn't even bother to fight back, his limbs lifeless and limp.

"…And you can use it to warm yourself. You seem cold-though abominations like you rarely feel it-"

"No!"

It wasn't one of Darcy's most thought-out plans, skidding down the snow covered, pebbled hill with only her armour and a small blade at her waist. As she realised this, she gulped visibly, feeling the ground slip away beneath her feet, sending her tumbling down to her knees at the bottom.

"Shit."

Forseti rolled his eyes in exasperation as she got to her feet and dusted herself off.

"The Midgardian. Nice of you to join us."

Darcy didn't respond, her fingers busy tracing the handle of her blade around her waist. Her bright eyes flicked to Loki.

"You came through the Jordkula?!" Loki shouted at her, pain dripping from his tone. She saw him attempt to stand up and was promptly knocked down by Forseti with a swift backhand. He wiped at his mouth and looked at her, almost pleading for her to go back. Images of his dreams flashed before his eyes, and he clenched his jaw, his eyes burning with desperation.

"Go back, Darcy! This is over!"

Her mouth dropped open and she laughed hollowly. "I didn't ask you to bail on me. We were meant to come here together!" She stumbled toward him.

"One more step…" Forseti warned.

Darcy clenched her teeth, and stepped forward.

"Or what? You'll burn him?" She supressed the quiver in her tone, the fearful shake that overtook her limbs. This wasn't a friendly talk in the safety of Asgard. Here she could die with a slash of Forseti's sword. "You'd do that if I stayed where I was to begin with. Don't think I'm stupid."

"So you hope to take a chance? To gamble his life?" Forseti chuckled.

"Nope." Darcy took another step forward.

"It looks as though you are."

Darcy stopped and rolled her eyes. "There must be something you want more than Loki dead. I can… trade… something. Anything."

"Your world in the balance and you bargain for one man? There is nothing more that I want than my uncle dead. The reason I would burn Asgard to the ground..." He spat, his blood tinged saliva dying the snow. His lips lifted up in a gross attempt at a smile. "However… I do not need to burn Asgard. I have my kindling here at my feet, an effigy to sit atop the flames as I wreak my vengeance. I am sick of playing games."

Whilst he spoke, Darcy slowly made her way toward Loki, and snaked an arm around his shoulders, kneeling on the ground with him. He winced as she moved him, but leant back on her with a sigh of what she thought was relief. His words were quick, watching Forseti head over to the pyre.

"Don't go anywhere." Forseti smiled, turning his back on them both as he faced the pile of logs on the ground.

"Why did you come here, Darcy?" Loki reached up and cupped her face, letting his fingertips trace her lips. She shivered and her fingers returned his fond touch, running slowly through his long black hair.

"Your mom sent me. Usually I'd ignore the whole prophecy thing she spouted, but she's hella convincing."

"Are you alone?" He whispered.

"Yeah, yeah I am." She leant forward so that her forehead bumped gently against his and closed her eyes. "I'm gonna get you out of this somehow," she said uncertainly, turning to watch Forseti mumble words over his pyre, his face screwed up in concentration.

"No." Loki was adamant. "Go back to Asgard, to Midgard. Please."

Darcy frowned. Loki never said please. "This is our chance, Loki. Don't tell me you want us to die?"

She fumbled for the blade at her side, but a hand covered hers. She looked down at Loki, his cool hand over hers. He shook his head. "Don't."

"You said you wouldn't tell me what to do." She leant toward him, and with a light brush of her lips against his, she pulled out of his grasp and bolted toward Forseti, her knife ready.

It was stupid, she thought, as Forseti turned to face her and rolled his eyes at her advance. He batted her away like he would a fly, and she skidded back into the snow, away from Loki. She let out a groan of pain as she sat up, her eyes wide as she took in the scene in front of her.

"I tried making this fun. A game. But now I'm bored of it all. Especially you two." He sighed.

At this, Forseti pulled Loki up with a pained grunt so that he kneeled in the centre of the pyre. With a flash of green, Loki appeared frozen, forced into paralysis by Forseti as he began to laugh almost manically. Loki's eyes stayed fixed on Darcy, despite the heavy bleeding from the deep cut running across his chest.

"Loki…" Darcy met his stare and shook her head in confusion. "Are you actually kidding me? Do something!"

"He came here with plans to destroy me. It is only fair I do the same." Forseti cut in.

"He came here to end this stupid-ass war you proposed. Where's your army, Forseti?"

Forseti grinned and shrugged, a schoolboy caught breaking the rules. "There was no army. Just a threat. It was enough to prompt my dear uncle to visit me here. The right rumours, the right… disposable henchmen. Now, if you'd excuse us, Midgardian."

"No, Darcy, don't-!" Loki saw Darcy shift forward when Forseti lit the pyre with a click of his fingers. The logs burnt unusually fast as Darcy raced to Loki's paralysed body. She felt her feet slip on the ice with every stride. Faster, she urged herself. Come ON. It was gym class all over again.

"I swear to God, Loki, if you die I'll kill you!" She screamed at him through the fire.

It was then Loki began to scream. Horrible, gut-wrenching screams that echoed across the wasteland. Darcy raced toward the pyre, only to be knocked down by Forseti's weight. He pinned her down and smiled maliciously from above her.

"Get… Off!" She wriggled from under his grasp, casting a desperate glance over to Loki. Why wasn't he doing anything to save himself? He had some magic, right?

She could hear the screams subsiding in strength, and with a last ditch effort, she managed to move enough to unsheathe the blade at her waist. She used his chest wound as a weak spot to wriggle free, his arm strength almost deteriorated. He relieved a tiny bit of pressure on her arms, and she acted with lightning speed.

With a roar of both anger and desperation, she gripped the handle tightly and felt it sink into Forseti's abdomen. She pushed the blade in until it could go no further and watched the smug look of Forseti transform into one of surprise and panic. She hadn't realised fully what she had done until she felt warm blood gush over her arms and torso.

Darcy pushed him away in revulsion, gasping for air between retches. She pulled the blade out gingerly, ready for retaliation, but Forseti lay on the ground, clutching both wounds feebly as he bled out.

"Go save the murdering bastard, whore. Though he would gladly exchange places with you in the fire, remember that." He spat blood. Within seconds, she scrambled up wildly, heading toward the pyre. She had no retort to his words anyway, her efforts and attention all on Loki. Darcy swallowed, feeling the blazing heat of the fire as she approached it.

"Loki!"

Loki continued to scream, his paralysis still in place. The fire licked his clothes and tore apart his skin as she watched. The only things that were able to move were his eyes, darting side to side before resting on Darcy's helpless face. Darcy tried to break through the wall of flames, but he lay out of her reach no matter what she did. She could hear his coughing and spluttering dying out, and she tried to dive into the fire, to pull him out, but she retreated with a hiss when the fire licked her skin.

"What do I do?!" She wrapped her arms around herself, trembling as she lost sight of Loki in the billowing flames. "Loki!" She screamed one last time, before falling to her knees, her body weak and trembling.

The fire still burned on, and she could smell burning flesh and singed hair and clothes. She could do nothing but freeze, her eyes fixed on the dancing flames in front of her until she heard a yell from behind her.

"No!" Sif skidded down the hill and ran toward Forseti, who had been ready to launch herself at Darcy, knife in hand. Sif threw her blade, disarming him swiftly, as Darcy got up and launched herself at Forseti, picking up the blade he had dropped. She pushed the blonde into the snow, straddling his waist.

"You…" Her chest heaved, her throat ruined. She looked at Forseti with wild desperation, until her madness kicked in and she sank her blade into his body over and over until he stopped his spluttering laughter.

"You asshole! Motherfucker!" She swore as she jabbed his body repeatedly, his last breath long since exhaled. She could feel the spatter on her skin, the snow in her hair as she struggled to calm herself.

A steady hand came to rest on her wrist, and she looked up to see Sif's grave face staring back at her. Her eyes widened. What the hell had she just done…?

"Darcy…" Sif's voice was softer than she'd ever heard it.

She froze, realising her outburst and dropping her blade on the ice beside Forseti's now mangled body. She stepped back, horrified, whilst the fire still raged on behind her, the man inside it now still and lifeless.

Fuck. On one hand, she'd murdered a guy. On the other… She'd watched a man burn to death. A man she had… loved? No, she corrected herself, she hadn't loved him. Had she? She'd hardly had time to decide.

"I didn't mean to..." She muttered to herself, feeling the tears freeze on her cheeks. All of a sudden she felt so stupid. The armour, the weapon, the plan that she was going to swoop in and save everyone...? She wasn't a warrior. Even without Forseti's army it was stupid to think she could save him. Her knees trembled at this realisation, and she cursed Frigga for ever getting her involved in this shit. She collapsed in the snow, suddenly exhausted.

"Can you… put the fire out?" Darcy asked.

Sif cast her an apologetic look, and she glanced over to the roaring fire and the remains within it.

"Lady Darcy… I do not think it would help. He is gone. I was too late to save him, but thank Odin I was here to save you."

"Why weren't you here earlier?"

Sif was taken aback by Darcy's tone. She always seemed fun, and full of life. Her monotone mumbles were now devoid of feeling. "I… I eavesdropped on your conversation with the Queen. I thought I could help you, somehow. Heimdallr refused me passage through the Bifrost until I insisted. I came here as quickly as I could."

Darcy sat in the snow, head in her hands. "Decent excuse." She got up, out of the snow, and pulled her furs around her. "I'm freezing. Can we get out of here before we have to cut open a Tauntaun to keep us alive?"

"Pardon?"

Her attempt at a smile faded. "It's in a film… doesn't matter. Just get us back. Please." She sighed heavily, her sorrow quickly turning to resignation.

She heard Sif shout Heimdallr's name, and before she knew it, she was engulfed in colourful light, spinning toward Asgard.

"I could not see them. Why?" A low voice declared as Darcy dropped to her knees beside Sif in the golden Bifrost. Darcy shrugged, and saw Heimdallr tilt his head in confusion. Sif muttered something to him quickly, and a look of understanding coloured his features. "Ah."

"And Loki?"

"He's dead. So's Forseti." Darcy supplied in another monotone drawl. Sif looked long and hard at her before pulling Darcy's arm around her shoulders and lifting her to her feet.

"Come on, Darcy." Sif said softly, before turning and speaking to Heimdallr in hushed tones. "Send guards to Jotunheim to retrieve the bodies. Alert the King."

Heimdallr nodded gravely, looking at Darcy with concern.

"He's dead." She muttered the phrase over and over. It made even less sense the sixteenth time.

A/N-

I'm so sorry sorry sorry sorry sorry. Please don't hate me! The next chapter will be uploaded very soon- I'll try not to leave you waiting in suspense too long! :)

Thank you to everyone who continues to support me by reviewing, following and favouriting this fic despite the inconsistent updates - also -even though I don't reply to reviews personally, I just want to let you know that you're all fantastic, and I read every single one of them with a huge smile on my face... You're amazing!

Til next time!