Frank Got Bigger
“I’m going to kill him.” Sif growled, nudging Thor with the end of her blade, urging him to stand back up. They had been sparring for hours now and Thor was becoming increasingly less enthusiastic about losing against Sif’s wrathful sword. “Again.”
Thor grunted, calling his hammer. “Sif, I really do not see what the problem is. It’s just hair.”
“No…” Sif snarled, lashing out at him, “It was my hair. Thor, my hair is black! No one can change it back either. It’s stuck like this!” her shield bashed against Mjolnir.
“Sif…” Thor panted, deflecting her next blow and dropping his hammer. “Why should it matter?”
She kept her blade in the air, “What are you talking about?”
Thor pushed her sword away to grasp his friend’s shoulders, “You say it almost every day Sif. You are a warrior. Your power comes from the force of your blade, not the color of your hair! Killing Loki won’t fix that. And it will make my mother hate you forever.”
Finally, she relented, letting down her sword and slumping down in the grass. “I do not know if it is wise to say, ‘you are right’….”
Thor sat down as well, laughing. “I am right!” he bumped her shoulder with his. “Perhaps all of those aspiring suitors will stop asking you for dances.”
She chuckled as well, running a hand through her black locks. “Now there is a good side to this curse.” She sighed, “I suppose it would be rather useless to kill Loki. I mean, I would have to find him first, wouldn’t I?”
“Is he not in the library? You go there occasionally.” Thor commented, knowing Sif liked to go study books on blocking techniques.
“Some days he is there, speaking with his snake and practicing magic. Other times he is simply gone.”
They sat in silence for a while, letting the breeze cool their sweaty faces.
Sif spoke up. “Does it bother you?”
“Does what bother me?” Thor asked, tearing grass from the ground.
“Loki’s…I don’t know…his knowledge.” Sif said vaguely, letting light reflect off her blade.
Thor scoffed. “Loki’s knowledge?”
“You know what I mean.” Sif shot back. “He is different, and effeminate at times, but you would be lying to say that he was not clever.”
He sighed, “Why would this bother me? It’s his life.”
“Yes. But you are both Princes of Asgard. He was given a powerful title, Thor, and for good reason. Aren’t you the least bit worried that…”
Thor stood in a flash, Mjolnir in hand. “Worried that what? He’ll take the throne?”
Sif glowered, getting to her feet as well. “Yes! He scored higher than you at his ceremony! He has the favor of half the court, which you would know if you bothered paying attention during those council meetings you both sit through! Not to mention, he does not have such a reckless reputation!”
Thor scowled, “What are you suggesting? That I act more like Loki? Should I begin practicing magic now or later?”
“Don’t be so thick.” She retorted hotly. “You may be the eldest, but that alone cannot make you king and you know it. If your father sees Loki is better suited than you, he will make him king.”
Thor’s eyes flashed, “Yes. I am aware. But, dear Sif, I do not think you realize how difficult it is to make an impression when you cannot leave the palace grounds.”
She jabbed him in the chest with the pummel of her sword. “So, get permission. Loki spends his time out and about doing whatever he does. Odin knows, it probably isn’t doing anything to benefit Asgard. Do something for the good of the kingdom.”
Thor looked to her incredulously, blinking a few times. “How long have you been thinking about that?”
“Since you almost killed your brother with a bilgesnipe.”
“Ah.” He scratched the back of this neck, “I do not know if it is wise to say ‘you are right’….”
“Nonsense.” Sif smirked, raising her sword in an open challenge, “I am always right.”
***
Darcy groaned, throwing her backpack on the floor and kicking off her cleats. “I’m so bad at soccer.”
Loki looked up from his book he’d been reading, waiting for Darcy to get home. “You’ve said so before.”
She stumbled over to her bed, collapsing on the covers, her face next to Loki’s knee.
It had been a few months since Darcy’s trip to Asgard and things had been moving at an antagonizing slow pace. Darcy’s parents had become rather strict about the amount of time she was allowed to spend in her room and had signed her up for her school soccer team as well as therapy on Thursdays.
Darcy despised both. She said her therapist was always asking her ridiculous questions about her life at home and school. She told him about the mystical stories she told her therapist. Some included both magic toilets and flying snakes, while others only spoke of mind-controlling candy.
Apparently, word of her tall tales had reached her parents and they made sure Darcy would be going to therapy for another year.
Along with this, Darcy also held a deep seated abhorrence for ‘soccer’. She would come home from practice on school-day afternoons with dirty knees and exhaustion seeping from her being. Loki hated to see his friend in such misery and tried his best to make her feel better with their search for the tesseract.
It pleased him that all of her irritation dissipated when they worked together. He brought her various reading materials and maps for them to study. They took notes in his journal, exploring every realm from Nilfheim to Asgard in their readings. Darcy had grown a little in the last couple of months. She remained short, but with an added few inches and her face looked a little less childish and more adolescent.
Yet, her enthusiasm never left. No matter how upset she was when she got home, it never lasted longer than five minutes.
Fenrir and Jörmungandr had grown as well. Fenrir was more doggish, standing tall and guarding Darcy’s bed every night. However, he still seemed to think he was no bigger than the day they found him. Jörmungandr had also grown. He could no longer stay in Loki’s pocket or sit on Fenrir’s head. Rather, he draped himself across Loki’s shoulders or wrapped himself around Darcy’s arm.
The older their pets got, Loki noticed strange habits from the both of them. Occasionally, Fenrir would move around on his belly, swaying back and forth in an attempt to move like a snake. Jörmungandr would sometimes lay on the floor and follow his tail around in circles until he caught it in his mouth. Even then, he would continue his circular motion.
Usually he only did this when Loki was feeling especially tense about something. He attempted to research if Infinite Serpents could be stressed, but no information was available. Apparently, most people died upon encounter with Infinite Serpents, so there was limited knowledge on them.
Loki deduced that Jörmungandr could indeed feel stressed, for every time Thor came near he would either stare maliciously at him or retreat into his ouroboros state.
Darcy sighed, sitting up, a smile spreading across her face. “Guess what?”
“What?” he asked, ready for any news that would break Darcy’s pouting a full minute early.
“I said ‘guess’!” She insisted sitting up and shedding her shin guards and socks along with her light green jersey to reveal a purple tank top.
He grinned back, remembering the date they had been counting down for since October. “It is your winter holiday.”
She leapt up, pumping her fist in the air. “Yes! I’ve already got my bag ready and I’m borrowing this rope from my Dad but he doesn’t know it yet. This is going to be great! C’mon, let’s review what we know.”
Loki promptly took out his journal, flipping through the pages till he came to what he needed. “Magical anomaly build ups usually form--”
“--between places where, during the convergence, all nine realms open to each other. Which means—“
“—that most of these irregularities are set in mountainous regions because of the pressure created by shifting land mass—“
“—which ultimately creates inconsistent magical energy that links realms together. It makes—“
“—a portal. But sometimes—“
“—transportation between—“
“—certain realms—“
“—can only be activated—“
“—by heat or friction—“
“—and of course there are specific times because—“
“—the gravitational force of Asgard’s four moons—“
“can offset the balance of potential motion in the stones of the mountain’s higher altitudes.” They finished together.
Darcy tapped her chin, pushing on her glasses. “I still don’t get the convergence thing. I mean, why does it make these little weak spots in the realms?”
Loki turned a new page in his journal, “Well, think about it like this, the division of the nine realms is separated, not by dimension, but rather space and time. During the convergence, both of those are taken away. The portals between worlds are found and detectable because time, where it is very constant in specific realms, is dependent on space. And space is inconstant and can be broken at nearly every turn except for time.”
Darcy sat on the ground, deep in thought. “You mean like teleporting? It takes time to move through space. But the convergence…”
“The convergence is when space cancels out and the time, since it is reliant on space, is decreased between realms. And like any problem, we cannot simply create the variable of these links. They are already there.”
He drew out an equation, using his knowledge from the math book Darcy had found near the High School building when she was walking around the track at soccer practice. He rather liked this calculus. If Asgard thought this in depth about their sciences, they would be so much farther ahead than they are now. He already had so many ideas that could improve Asgardian life.
He even had ideas about changes to the bifrost…
Darcy crawled up on the bed, Jörmungandr slithering across her back as she leaned over Loki’s shoulder. She read the equation slowly, her fingers tapping out the math on his shoulder. “Oh. I get it. It’s like a coat and the portals are like the button holes.”
“Exactly.” Loki said, snapping his journal shut. He had become so accustomed to Darcy’s easy understanding that it was almost difficult to be back on Asgard with people who barely even touched on magical properties, let alone the Midgardian implications.
Now that he had his title, he was being introduced more strongly to his duties as a prince. He no longer spent every waking hour in his room or the library. There were meetings that he and Thor attended, public announcements, foreign affairs strategy meetings, domestic affairs meetings, formal dinners, and countless other time-consuming necessities.
Loki paid as much attention as he could, but on the days where it was debate after debate on the same topic for hours, his mind would wander to Darcy’s room; him sitting on her bed with a book, discussing the mysteries of the universe while the curiosity in her blue eyes burned brightly.
Still, he managed his time wisely. He still practiced magic in the library and trained in the fields with Thor. He was even able to start lessons with Eir who was more than happy to assist him in learning about healing. She was impressed by how quickly he mastered it and she told his mother how, in all her years, she had never seen someone catch on as quickly as Loki.
But he was not without motivation. If he was going on dangerous adventures with Darcy, he wanted to be sure she would not die while they explored.
And occasionally, in those few quiet hours in the library or contemplative walks in the gardens, he would see Sigyn. They didn’t talk like they had on his birthday, and he did not know quite what to think of her.
She had openly told him he should behave more like everyone else, yet she still seemed to desire conversation with him. No matter how brief. Perhaps what she had said was in his best interest. It is possible.
He spoke to Darcy about it and she told him that Sigyn most likely meant no harm. So, when she passed him in the library or in the halls, he would greet her and they would speak shortly. But it happened rarely. He found that even as he and Darcy had grown, Sigyn had as well.
Loki had always appreciated the comparison of women to flowers. He felt that different women were different breeds and shapes and ages. Take Sigyn, for example: she was beautiful, budding, and her touch pricked like a thorn. She was a rose, and he romanticized her as such.
His mother was more like a peony, layered with so many lovely petals that you never quite knew what was at the center.
But Darcy was not a flower. He couldn’t think of any that could totally embody his friend. She was amusing and witty and curious and nothing that could be described simply by a plant.
Darcy had started picking out fresh clothes and pulled a backpack from her closet. “I think I should go take a shower. I smell like grass and Rachel Durry’s armpit.”
Loki sniffed her jersey experimentally and crinkled his nose in mock disgust. “I think I have smelt bilgesnipe dung with a more agreeable aroma.”
She giggled and stuck out her tongue at him, sensing his jest. “I bet you smell really bad after training with Thor. When you’re all sweaty and stuff.”
“I don’t sweat.”
“Everybody sweats.”
He shook his head. “Well, Darcy, as you should know by now, I am not everybody.”
“Well, I’m not everybody and I still sweat. “ she replied, with a smile, peeling off her socks and tossing them at him.
Loki caught the socks before they reached his face “I noticed. It is most un-lady-like, Darcy. Perhaps you should refrain from—“
He was cut off by a stuffed dog hitting him square in the chest.
***
Darcy’s mother heard a peal of laughter from her daughter who was alone in her bedroom. Again.
She had tried desperately to get Darcy into a more social attitude. It seemed to be working. At her new school, there was no sign that she was suffering anymore. There were no calls from teachers and she didn’t come home with broken glasses or bruises. Sometimes, she even talked about people at soccer.
Not to mention, Darcy was doing very well in school. Her progress reports showed she only struggled with completing her homework and staying quiet in class.
Though despite everything, Darcy still liked to spend time in her room. In fact, given the opportunity to go out to the park or go play with other kids, she would always choose to stay by herself.
Emma Lewis had thought herself somewhat overprotective since October when she had come home and Darcy was nowhere to be found. Darius said he hadn’t seen her leave and the neighbors hadn’t seen her. But she, as a panicked mother, had gone off on a tangent as to where her lost daughter could’ve disappeared to.
She called the police, she searched around in the small woods behind her house, she even ran around outside screaming her daughter’s name.
Then, at about midnight, they had gone back to Darcy’s room to find any clues as to where she had gone, only to find Darcy curled up in bed sleeping with Fenrir snoozing protectively at her side.
She swore up and down she hadn’t seen her in her room before, really she hadn’t.
The paramedics claimed she was just over-worked and stressed. They recommended that she take the day off work.
Sighing as her motherly instincts took over, Mrs. Lewis walked up the stairs, turning down the hallways to Darcy’s room. The door was closed and down the hall she heard the shower running. She pushed open the door, not knowing what to expect when she entered her daughter’s room.
Fenrir was sitting on the bed next to a rather large stack of books, a mess of yellow and gold papers all filled with green writing.
The room felt odd.
Unnaturally still somehow.
She uneasily approached Fenrir who sat up and wagged his tail in anticipation. Emma sat down next to him, picking up one of the books. The title read Physics. It was the book Darcy had asked for in the store.
Quickly, she looked about the rest of the books, becoming increasingly more confused. Most were in some kind of runic script, the papers were maps covered in tiny writing that read things like: ‘magical anomaly’ or ‘acceleration of gravity, inconsistent’.
“What the…?” she trailed off, picking up a rather thick leather bound book with a squiggly lined title.
“I wouldn’t touch that.”
She dropped the book at the sound of those words.
It wasn’t either of her children’s voices, nor her husband’s. Emma Lewis turned to see a boy in the strangest clothing she’d ever seen. It seemed mainly black leather with bits of green scattered in. Under normal circumstances she would have said he was a cute kid. He had wide pretty green eyes, combed back black hair, and the start of fantastic cheekbones. He would be a looker once he was all grown up.
Though, at the moment, a strangely dressed boy in her daughter’s room with a snake draped artfully around his shoulders was enough to make her jump.
The snake left the boys’ arms to Emma Lewis’ side where it coiled around Fenrir…happily? The dog didn’t seem bothered at all…like this was normal.
She prepared to shout or scream, but the boy held up his hands in a calming gesture. “Forgive me for frightening you, it was not my intention.”
Mrs. Lewis’ mind drew a blank. How old was this kid? Kids didn’t talk like that. She opened her mouth to speak but no words came out. Who was he? What was he doing here?
“I simply meant to keep you from harming yourself. That book, when read by those who do not speak the language of the Dark Elves, will cause partial insanity.” He said, hands lowering as those green eyes swept over the room. She had never seen a child look so…intelligent. He didn’t seem anxious, but there was something off about him…like he was trying to solve a problem.
Mrs. Lewis found her voice. “Who…who are you?”
The boy let a small smile tilt his lips. “I am Loki, Prince of Asgard. Now, Mrs. Lewis, I’m very sorry for this. You appear to be a very kind woman.”
“Sorry for—“
She was cut off by Loki lifting his hands a concentrated look on his face.
In a flash of gold light, she fell unconscious.
***
Loki stared contemplatively down at Darcy’s sleeping mother.
He had not meant for her to see him, but he was engulfed in his reading when she entered. He thought only to turn himself and Jörmungandr invisible. She had poked around, which Loki understood and would not chastise. Perhaps she was simply worried for Darcy. But, it was dangerous for her to do so.
Reading some ancient texts could be…testing.
Some required magical passes to read, others were set in riddles or rhymes to keep their contents from being found out. The Dark Elven texts were always frustrating, mentally draining, and ever so informative. To open them was to bargain all your energy and half your wits. Even looking at the words without fully understanding them could be detrimental to one’s health.
Darcy rather liked those books. She thought they were interesting.
Loki considered waking her mother and explaining his and Darcy’s friendship, but it was a risk. He realized now how dangerous mortals finding out about Asgard would be.
They did not know anything about Asgard or the Nine Realms. They had only vague ideas about what happened outside of their own galaxy. Discovering all of Yggdrasil too fast would cause turmoil in their sciences and cultures.
Instead, he cast a spell over her mother that would replace her memories of coming up to Darcy’s room with going into her bedroom to take a nap. No sooner had he done this, when Darcy appeared in the doorway, her brown hair wet and dripping, a clump of conditioner stuck in the curls. Her gaze flicked to Loki with his glowing hands over her mother’s face. “Loki!”
He finished the spell. “Believe me, Darcy, this is not as it appears to be.”
“What is happening?!” she asked, flying to her mother’s side, hair dripping onto her light blue sweater.
Loki waved his hands over the older woman’s head and she was gone in a flash, hopefully sitting on her bed downstairs. “She was about to open the book of Dark Elves.” He explained.
“Ohhhh.” Darcy nodded in understanding. “Why didn’t you just say so?”
Loki smirked and sat back down on the bed, conjuring Darcy’s brush as she sat in front of him.
They talked over her escape plan as he worked at her tangles. Prince of Chaos he may be, but this mess was beyond even him. Darcy’s scheme was to tell her parents that she had a sleepover at a friend’s house across the street. She said a girl named Carla Dawson lived there and their parents didn’t like each other very much. So, if she went over there, the chances of her mother calling to check up on her were low. She would tell her she’d just be gone for a while.
“Are you sure that will work, Darcy? The last time….”
She waved him off, “Yeah, but this is a better plan! We’ll be fine!”
He pressed his lips together skeptically, beginning to braid Darcy’s hair. He’d gotten rather apt at it lately. Darcy squirmed as he tied the end of the braid with a bit of purple elastic. “Are we ready?”
Darcy leapt to her feet, opening her backpack and listing the contents. “Gloves; check, snack bars; check, rope; check, coat; check, water bottle; check, spare underwear; check, your screwdrivers; check, crayons, pens, and pencils; check, toothbrush; check, inhaler; check.” She zipped her bag back up. “Are you going to magic stuff on me?”
Loki nodded, taking in her size. She had grown since he last conjured clothes for her. There were only subtle differences like her shoulders had become less frail, her arms and legs were slightly longer, and her body had gained some muscle from playing soccer. “Should I do it when you get back?”
“Yeah, hold on.” Darcy said, running from her room and shouting down the stairs. “MOM, I’M GOING OVER TO CARLA’S HOUSE TO SPEND THE NIGHT! I’LL BE BACK TOMORROW! I’LL BE FINE! JUST ACROSS THE STREET! IF YOU NEED ME, YOU CAN WAIT PROBABLY!”
She walked back inside, “Alright. Now that’s taken care of…”
Loki chuckled wiggling his fingers as a flutter of energy sizzled through them. Since his adolescence, his magical capacity had grown. He found himself able to cast spells he had been unable to before. Everything was faster, more powerful, and without the side effects he’d been warned of. He kept waiting to suddenly feel bitter or angry like Thor, but it never came. It was uncommon, according to most texts that this should happen. But Loki reminded himself that there wasn’t much common about him.
He lifted his hands to cast the conjuring spell that would give Darcy clothes. She needed something she could climb in and was flexible. It would be cool in the mountains, but if they managed to find a portal, there was no telling where it could take them. He gave her leather pants with tough boots to match. They would not slip on the slopes they intended to hike.
He decided that it would be wise for her to keep her undershirt and instead gave her a short leather coat that mirrored Midgardian styles. She was not accustomed to walking around in long garments and this one would not get in her way. To put it all together, he also turned her puffy Midgardian gloves into firm leather ones that would withstand extreme weather conditions (both hot and cold) as well as griffins talons.
Darcy beamed at her attire. “Woah…I look so cool. I’m like Indiana Jones! But with more black.” She exclaimed, checking herself in the mirror and messing with the ties of her coat, the purple of her undergarment peeking through at the neck. “Thank you Loki!”
“I do not require thanks, Darcy.” He reminded, ignoring the heat on his cheeks.
“I don’t need new pants but I have them anyways.” She sassed, smiling at him.
That’s another thing. The more they spent time together and the more they learned, Darcy began to get more...saucy. Her wit was sharp and quick. It heightened their friendship and never ceased to crack them up in the late hours of the night after pouring over newly found books. Darcy was, as the Midgardians put it, rubbing off on him.
He smiled back, “Indeed. I suppose I am just especially generous. Is your bag ready?”
Darcy nodded in response, grabbing her backpack and buckling it across her chest and stomach so it stayed secured to her body.
Fenrir and Jörmungandr, sensing their upcoming departure began to move around excitedly. Jörmungandr found his way around to Darcy’s shoulders, flicking his tongue across the girl’s cheek. Fenrir wagged his tail in anticipation, waiting for their trip.
Loki slid under Darcy’s bed, his friend following him closely. He took her hand, “Are you ready?”
Darcy nearly shook with enthusiasm, squeezing his arm. “Yes! Come on!”
Unable tease her any longer due to his own fervor, Loki activated the portal with a surge of magic and, once again, they were transported to Asgard where they were sure to make new discoveries.
Preferably ones that wouldn’t get them killed. Unfortunately, safety wasn’t always guaranteed.