Frank is Surprised
Darcy’s messy-haired head was slumped onto her desk as she slept through another boring math lesson.
“Darcy Lewis!”
Her eyes shot wide open and she sat up, frantically looking around till her gaze rest upon a stern Ms. Cutter, the sixth grade pre-algebra teacher. “Darcy, would you please tell us the value of x?”
Rubbing her eyes, Darcy shoved on her glasses, none too gently, and glanced at the board. It was so simple. It seemed redundant to even answer. She let her head collapse back on her desk in exhaustion. She’d stayed up all the previous night reading texts from Muspelheim about their atmosphere. It had almost killed Loki and she wanted to know why. She wouldn’t let it happen again. Loki’s health was a concern to her, mainly because she hadn’t seen him since Muspelheim. Her winter break had ended, she was back at school, and Loki had not visited her for a few weeks. She even had a Christmas present for him!
But there had been nothing in any books about Aesir having an aversion to flame. It was stated that Frost Giants had fatal problems on Muspelheim, but Loki was not a Frost Giant. “Darcy Lewis!”
Darcy shook her head to clear her thoughts. “What?”
“Would you please give us the answer to the question on the board?”
Darcy crossed her arms bitterly. She was so frustrated. Maybe if her teachers taught her something she didn’t already know, she could figure out why Loki almost died. She could be halfway to Vanaheim by now if she didn’t have to do their worksheets and answer dumb questions to find the stupid value of x. “Why? I don’t want to.”
Ms. Cutter grimaced in annoyance, the class giggling a bit at their silly schoolmate. “You don’t want to? Do you know the answer? It’s okay if you do not understand, but I am just asking you to try it.”
“I don’t want to try it. I already know all this! You’ve been teaching the same thing for the past three weeks!” Darcy protested, standing up.
“Darcy, if you don’t stop this, I’m going to send you to the principal’s office.” Her teacher said sternly.
Darcy only got more irritated. “What?! I just want to learn more!”
“Darcy, please wait out in the hallway. I will be there in a second, and we will call your mother if need be.” Ms. Cutter demanded with finality.
Angrily, Darcy stomped out into the hall where she slumped against the wall, crossing her arms. She would much rather be on Asgard. Or on Alfheim. Even soccer practice was better than this. Maybe she would go run away and live with Loki so they could spend all their time learning together. That sounded much more fun than the lecture she was going to get from Ms. Cutter.
Her mom didn’t make anything better either. Darcy was going to have to start carrying around a cell phone because apparently her parents worried about her. Little did they know that cell phones don’t have reception on Asgard. So it wasn’t going to be much use to them, was it?
Sighing, Darcy picked at a scab on the back of her hand and went back to thinking about Loki and the universe.
***
Loki exhaled deeply, pushing yet another book aside, bringing his attention back to the court meeting taking place.
He had been researching Asgardian aversions to fire for nearly two hours and he had found nothing.
There were no stories, no accounts or warnings of Aesir ever being burned as he had on Muspelheim. He even had Eir and her healers look over him but they found nothing wrong with his current state. Even now, as he moved on to creating spells to check up on his health, he found not a hair out of place.
Jörmungandr coiled into his ouroboros state, the end of his tail in his mouth, sliding around in circles as he did when his Asgardian friend was perturbed.
Loki sat back in his chair, petting Jörmungandr’s head.
It had been weeks since he and Darcy had gone to Muspelheim and he had not been to see her since. His duties on Asgard had spiked and he found himself sitting through countless meetings, his fingers sore from taking notes and his jaw hurting from clenching it so hard to avoid speaking.
As far as Asgardian custom went, he was too young to offer input in any of the conferences. He was only supposed to stand by and listen.
It was quite irritating.
Loki had never doubted anyone of the court before, but seeing them discuss Asgard’s future, he began to question their credibility. Most were decent and sought to keep the peace in Yggdrasil. Others courted power in the most devious of ways, suggesting that they ‘liberate’ certain ethnic groups on Vanaheim that were conveniently inhabiting very fertile land and a great deposit of gold nearby.
Of course, no one bothered to inquire about this and discussed only whether Asgard’s army should be used for other things. It surprised Loki how no one talked about the people of the the city they intended to murder. According to the books he had read about the remaining and illustrious indigenous civilizations of Vanaheim, they were quite happy and prospered as much, if not more, than Asgard. A few of the villages were smaller and they were not quite as fond of golden palaces, but they made brilliant technology and trinkets that Loki had only read about.
Yet, he was forced to hold his tongue.
And through all of that tongue holding, his one true solace was Odin Allfather; otherwise known as the only person in the council with half their wits about them.
His father understood the Nine Realms better than any member of the court. Loki found it almost hysterical how Odin went about making decisions. He would sit in his chair at the head of the table with his scrutinizing glare washing over all the nobles, allowing them to discuss everything they wished. Once they neared a consensus, he would stand and declare whether he liked the idea or not and why.
Loki found it quite admirable how no one argued with the Allfather.
Well, almost.
There was still his brother, who was actually allowed to give input during the conferences. And he was also the dullest buffoon there. He talked like a child, grasping at any opportunity to go into battle, to break the peace and start a war to supposedly ‘bring glory to Asgard.’
It was very annoying.
Loki wasn’t entirely one sided on the matter. He could admit that war had benefits. The crown held a great supply of wealth that would be put to use should a war occur. They would require steel and armor, and blacksmiths would eat like kings for as long as the battle went on. The people of Asgard would reaffirm their pride in their realm and they would be a stronger kingdom because of it. They had enough men to win any battle and the land, if dealt with properly, could be beneficial to the capital city’s beginnings of a skirmish with Nornheim.
The Asgardian province had been less than enthused with the attention it was receiving from the capital as it was. Their reasons were truly petty, using their lack of glorified Lords as an excuse for the royals not hosting any celebratory banquets in their halls.
So, they had gone off to provoke the people of Vanaheim’s provinces over money they apparently owed one of the high-lords due to a marriage several generations ago.
It was a pointless conflict and it was not worth the war.
Angering Vanaheim would cause unrest in Alfheim. The elves were well divided. Unlike Asgard, they held multiple parties in their council. This system allegedly allowed them to discuss and come to more wholesome conclusions. Loki believed this to be quite inventive. Though, the various opinions made things more confusing. It was indefinite; if a war did start between Asgard and Vanaheim, whose side they would take?
Then there was Jotunheim.
Laufey, King of the Frost Giants, would seize the opportunity to partake in any war against Odin. And no one, not a soul, wanted to go to war with the Jotunar. Except for Thor. It seemed Thor wanted to go to war with everyone by how he was talking.
Loki frantically took notes, writing his ideas in the margins. Darcy may be a quick learner of math, science and magic, but it was politics that had captured her heart. To be honest with himself, Loki found it all a bit dry and full of tactless limits. But Darcy saw it as a challenge. She spoke of Asgardian politics like she had sat through every meeting with him and expressed her input with the voice of a leader. He truly hoped she would be president one day.
The meeting was adjourned and Loki stood, relieved to be at the end of their tiresome speeches. He snapped his journal shut, magically retying the leather straps, and preparing to leave when his father called out. “Thor, Loki.”
The two brothers turned to him, “Yes Father?”
His face was weary from the meeting, yet his eyes twinkled nonetheless. “Walk with me, my sons.”
Strolling by either side of the Allfather, Loki and Thor cast each other nervous glances as the three walked to the gardens. Odin spoke at last when they came to an especially tall fountain. He sighed contentedly. “As a King and a father it is my duty to educate the future rulers of Asgard in how to deal with such matters as war.” He paused to turn to them, his gaze sharp, Gungnir standing tall in his grasp, “And I know that you both are capable of learning.”
He pointed Gungnir at Thor, slowly, as if not to catch him off guard. “Thor, this dispute with Nornheim, how do you believe it should be settled?”
Thor stood proudly, his gaze steady on the Allfather. “I believe we should charge Vanaheim now while they’re not expecting it. And we must conquer that spot of land before anyone from surrounding cities gets used to Asgard being idle during a threat. We shall bring pride to the Realm Eternal.”
Loki fought rolling his eyes at this. It was as if his brother heard of war and nothing else.
“Loki,” his father began, pointing Gungnir in his direction, “Why do you think this is a terrible idea?”
His eyes widened, gaze shifting to Thor then back to his father, “I never said it was a terrible idea.”
“My son, you sit through discussions of war like someone has put spikes on your chair.” He smiled, bringing Gungnir back to his side. “Enlighten us.”
Lifting his chin, Loki focused his attention on the Allfather, not daring to meet Thor’s eyes. “I believe that it would not be well suited for Asgard to fight Vanaheim.”
Odin stared down blankly, as if unpleased with Loki’s response. “I asked you why. Give me one answer. There are several reasons, I want to know the most important.”
Loki almost hesitated. But princes should not hesitate when questioned. “Jotunheim.” He said steadily.
“Explain.” It was one word and it showed no mercy.
“If any war breaks out, Laufey will not miss an opportunity to engage Asgard in battle. We are prepared to fight Vanaheim, or the Dwarves, we are even prepared to beat Muspelheim…on the…erm…off-chance that instance may occur…however, fighting Frost Giants requires specific training that has not been taught for nearly two thousand years and equipment that needs updating. More than that, most Asgardians are not familiar with Jotunheim’s terrain. We would be at a disadvantage.” Loki finished, no longer fearful of his father’s scrutiny. He was caught up in his explanation.
Odin glanced between his sons for a long while; Loki feared he might smite them given the chance. Finally, he spoke. “Loki, I grant you permission to speak at any council meeting you desire. It is far too painful to watch you bite your tongue the entire time. Thor, fighting Vanaheim would be an advantage to Asgard if not for the other forces in Yggdrasil. Broaden your strategies.”
Loki’s elation may have overpowered Thor’s exasperation. “So we will not be fighting them?”
“No.” Odin said shortly and turned on his heel, gesturing for the boys to follow him. They went after their father, unsure. They walked through the gardens and back into the palace, where they continued following him down the halls. “Loki does bring up an excellent point. Thor, did you catch it? I’m sure you would.”
“…we lack…training?” he answered slowly.
“Precisely.” Odin confirmed firmly, leading them out of the palace, through the courtyards and into the guard training grounds. Loki and Thor and warriors in training were not allowed to use it. “Frost Giants fight unlike any other group we’ve ever challenged in battle. We lost many warriors on the field to them before Asgardians were well enough trained to defeat them.” He sighed heavily, stopping near the edge to watch the men practice. “They have not been taught this technique, which is unwise due to the constant threat of Jotunheim. It is a possibility, especially with Nornheim’s petty ‘rebellion’, that we may go to war again. But we will try our best to avoid it.” He eyed Thor, “A good king does not seek out war.”
The golden prince scowled. “So why are we out here then? If we aren’t going to war?”
Odin raised his white brows skeptically, walking around the field of fighters to a separate arena typically used for captains and high position officers. “The Princes of Asgard should know how to defeat Frost Giants. And you will learn from the greatest Jotunn slayer there ever was.”
Excitement gathered in Thor’s sparkling blue eyes, “Who is it?”
Odin rolled his shoulders, a slight smile on his lips, “Why me, of course.”
Loki felt like a weight had dropped heavy on his chest. If he was to be fighting his father…he was doomed.
“Arm yourselves.” Odin demanded, pacing before them, his armor shining brightly in the Asgardian midday sun.
Thor raised Mjolnir with delight, shooting his brother a smug look and Loki paled. He may have the upper hand in a strategy meeting, but he was hardly a match in learning fighting styles that didn’t involve magic. Slowly, he took out his dagger.
He’d decided that after two of them had been either lost or destroyed in the past couple of months, it was time he forge himself a more reliable weapon. Yesterday, he had spent his time crafting his new blade to be easier for throwing, return to him when he needed it, and enchanted it with several spells to keep it from melting or freezing or getting dull. He would make himself a set of them when he had time.
Odin positioned Gungnir defensively so it barred the front of his body. “The Jötnar fight without order or mercy. They are unruly and monstrous. To defeat them, is to fight in their likeness.”
Thor grinned wickedly, his grip on Mjolnir tightening. “Can you show us, Father?”
“No.” Odin said shortly. In one frighteningly fast move, he swung Gungnir low, hitting the boys behind their knees, effectively knocking them both to the ground.
Thor was up in an instant, swinging Mjolnir at his father who blocked, kicked and attacked with blinding grace. Thor would have died a hundred times in the first ten minutes. They fought ruthlessly, all the while, Odin shouted words of cruel encouragement. “You cannot kill a Frost Giant like that. Again!” Thor blocked. Odin hit. A cape twirled. Gungnir jabbed.
It didn’t take Thor long to catch on. In fact, when fighting, Thor was most proficient. He adapted to Odin’s moves and was soon swinging and grunting with the strapping valor of a true warrior. Still, Odin pushed him further, taunting with scrutiny that only drove Thor to do better. “Harder! You are fighting a giant beast, you cannot kill them by lightly tapping their knees with your hammer!”
Thor bloomed to the challenge, attacking more violently, his skills and movements ruthless, unplanned, and ever so destructive. He chucked up patches of the earth and sweat with a passion for battle Loki had never seen in anyone before. Fighting their father in his silver winged helm and armor, Thor Odinson looked like a king.
Finally, Odin ended the fight by whacking him down to the ground and aiming Gungnir at his eldest son’s chest. Thor was angered, but the Allfather smiled. “Very well done, Thor.”
Grinning, Thor jumped up, not even bothering to brush the dirt from his proud shoulders. Loki tried to keep his breathing steady as Odin called him forwards. He could not fight like Thor. He could fight when he had magic and tricks, but he was not strong enough to match his father, nor was he skilled enough with an offensive weapon.
Odin brandished Gungnir, telling Loki that he was about to attack. Mentally, Loki ran through all the things he remembered about using a dagger to duel. One must use their blade as an extension of the arm, keep it close, and keep movements—
His musings were cut short as a blast of light whizzed by where his body would have been had he not moved. He looked up, and just like that, Odin was coming at him again, striking with Gungnir in a style that was so fluid, Loki feared he may drown.
“Fight! You cannot kill a Frost Giant by dodging their blows!” Odin taunted, successfully bashing Loki in the shoulder. He managed to keep standing, bringing up his dagger to meet the next blow of Gungnir. The force made his arm shake and his body jolt with effort. So he retreated, spinning around his father to a position where he could throw his dagger at his back if need be.
But this wasn’t that type of fight. In this battle, Loki needed to get his father into a position where he could not fight back, or disarm him.
When Odin turned on him again, Loki made the rash decision to meet his strikes with both his dagger and arm, aiming to keep his face from being impaled. As their bout progressed, Loki tried several times to match Thor’s brute force, but he was simply not strong enough and his weapon was not made for it. Odin moved too fast and Loki’s growing frustration was only heightened by the Allfather’s increasing strength.
Loki had never seen the Allfather in the heat of battle, but the stories of his might were legendary. The bitter clench of his jaw and unforgiving knot of his silver brow intimidated him to the point that Odin’s next jab had him flat on his back, Gungnir to his throat.
Yet, unlike his spar with Thor, Odin did not withdraw. He only glared down at Loki with unquestionable contempt. His eyes glinted with fury and Loki feared for his life. His father had never looked at him with such hatred and aggressiveness before. Gungnir moved to his face, the point imbedding in the arch of his cheek.
Loki held up his hands in surrender, his breathing rapid, and his confusion battling with his fear in earnest.
Suddenly, Odin’s expression changed, his shaking ferocity morphing into shocked realization…like he just remembered where he was and what he was doing. Immediately he withdrew Gungnir, and Loki felt a sharp stab of pain and a trickle of blood from the fresh cut in his face. He stood slowly, carefully stowing his dagger in its sheath.
“Father…?”
“Thor, we shall meet tomorrow. Loki, you will practice with Thor separately. You cannot fight a war with tricks and magic.” He said plainly, back straight and one-eyed gaze fixated on his eldest son, purposefully avoiding Loki’s eyes.
On that word, he turned and left, his golden cape swishing behind him as he stormed away.
Thor clapped his brother on the shoulder, laughing. “Father must have been truly upset by your fighting, brother!”
Loki touched the bleeding wound on his face, drawing his hand away to see the fingertips coated in blood. Because he was Aesir, injuries tended to heal faster for him. The bruises that coated his body would be gone within an hour and the gravel burn on his palms would disappear in the next ten minutes. However, a cut from Gungnir would not heal so easily. He would need to magically cleanse it then perform a healing spell before it could get infected.
But Loki could not think of that. His confidence was being torn apart as he ignored Thor’s commentary, making his way to the library. He was met in the hall by Jörmungandr who had taken to exploring places he shouldn’t when he wasn’t frightening the members of the court. Loki tended to only be present at meetings with his friend draped around his shoulders.
Jörmungandr coiled himself around Loki’s waist, stretching his body up to his shoulder. Loki sighed, comforted only slightly by the no longer small snake mouthing his jaw. It was a good thing he did not have teeth, otherwise it would be a very painful cuddle.
Nodding to Lady Asta, Loki rushed back to his table in the library, resting his head in his hand. What had he done wrong? Was it his technique? It was most certainly his technique. He would have to work on it. His father was right, he could not be a king, or even a good prince if he could not even fight in a war! How daft could he be?! No, he must work harder. Asgard needed more than this from its Prince. He was not meeting the Allfather’s expectations, perhaps he should not even be a prince! He would have to practice more spells, perhaps work on inventing more spells. But he would take time out of reading for pleasure for practicing with Thor.
Even as he reflected on his options, Loki’s thoughts were driven to Darcy. How could he protect her on their adventures if he could not even protect himself!? How could he do anything right if he did not start expanding his knowledge?!
Shaking with rage, Loki tore a few books from the shelves and tossed them onto the table. He needed to…he had to…
“Prince Loki?”
Just like that, Loki composed himself. He straightened his back and suppressed his temper, letting it seep down to his toes. “Lady Sigyn, how may I help you?”
She looked beautiful today. Her hair was pinned back from her face and the blonde hairs hung to the waist of her silver and blue dress. But concern was etched onto her face. “I…I saw you walking down the hall…” she trailed off shyly, then found herself again. “…are you…are you hurt very badly, my prince?”
Remembering his injury, Loki touched the mix of drying and wet blood on his cheek. He cleared his throat, looking down at his book. “Tis but a scratch.”
Timidly, Sigyn approached him and for the first time, he noticed a small jar in her hand. She sat in the chair next to him, looking slightly fearful of Jörmungandr’s ouroboric spin. She shook her head, elegant jaw firm.
Loki watched her with wide eyes as she opened the jar and dipped her fingers into the thick yellow paste. It was an herbal concoction used for cuts made by weapons from Baldor’s Forge. Baldor was Odin’s favored smith and it was said that his steel could burn gods. Only this paste, Essence of Fray, and a spell could properly heal the wounds his weapons made without causing a scar.
With two of her fingertips coated in the substance, she lifted her hand, stopping only inches from Loki’s face, as if asking permission. He nodded in consent, allowing her fingers to smooth over the cut. Only now as the herbs were worked over his face did he realize how deeply Odin had sliced him.
This revelation seemed insignificant as his mind was completely taken over by the touch of Sigyn’s fingers still on his cheek, their eyes locked. Her palm touched the hollow of his cheek, the heat of her warming him to the bone. With hesitant movements, Sigyn leaned in closer so Loki could see every one of her blonde eyelashes glow in the afternoon sun.
At first, he feared at what she may have planned. Would she bite him, or perhaps she wanted to whisper some taunt that she worried may be heard by a ghost amongst the shelves? But she only leaned in a bit more to cautiously press her lips to Loki’s unharmed cheek.
He felt the blood rush to his face and before he could compose himself, Sigyn had stood, curtsied, and was breezing away. Jörmungandr stopped slithering in a circle to look up at his friend, slack jawed.
Loki could only stare at where Sigyn’s silver dress had disappeared around the corner of a shelf. It was not proper for a lady to show such familiar affection, yet he was glad she had.
His rage had subsided and in its place brushed a fresh wave of inspiration. His previous anxiety had not gone away, but it had changed from anger into something softer. He knew now what he needed to do. “Jörmungandr, we need to go see Darcy.” He searched the shelves for books they would need. “If I cannot defend us and I die, she will not live. I will teach her to defend herself.”
That night, Loki decided he would abandon any responsibilities he had. He had not seen Darcy in far too long and he missed her dearly. He had not been out of the palace since their excursion to Muspelheim. He was sure Hel had returned to Nilfheim.
Jörmungandr, sensing he was going to see Darcy and Fenrir, made a sound of excitement.
Quickly, Loki gathered his books and dagger, making his way to the stables where he called for Hel. As he guessed, she was not there. He waited a few moments after calling her name and soon she was trotting up the stairs, looking excited to see him. He walked to her, rubbing her neck and touching his forehead to her nose. “I’m sorry, Hel. I have been quite busy.”
She whinnied, nudging him to get onto her back. He did so, Jörmungandr slithering behind him on her saddle. Adjusting the saddlebag and stirrups, Loki urged her to trot on in the direction of the setting suns. As he reached the gate exiting the palace grounds, he looked back over his shoulder.
He had not told his mother he was going, nor anyone for that matter. Perhaps it would seem like cowardice to run after being defeated. Though, at the moment, he could hardly care. Darcy was more important than any pride he might still have.
***
“Odin, what were you thinking?” Frigga sighed, leaning into her palm.
The Allfather paced the room, still in his armor and in clear distress that no one outside his bedchamber had ever seen. “That I was back on Jotunheim and I had just won a war.” He muttered, mostly to himself.
“Odin…”
He turned to his wife, face red and boiling with rage, “Can you truly pretend not to see it Frigga?”
She stood as well, face stern. “See what?! That he is an intelligent, thoughtful young prince that only wants the best for Asgard?”
“You know what I mean….” He growled. “I could hardly fight him without seeing it. He looks exactly like—“
“He is our son, Odin. I beg you to remember that.”
“Our son…” he murmured, grunting softly. “You truly believe that?”
Frigga’s brow knitted. “Of course. What has brought this about? You have never questioned him before. Why now? What has happened?”
Odin shook his head, resuming his pacing. “Loki has never been strong. He does not have the strength of a full grown Aesir, let alone one of them…”
“Odin…”
“…but he is somehow a skilled fighter because of it. He does not learn other styles of fighting because he cannot use them. And today…”
There was a stretch of silence as Odin stopped moving, staring at the wall before him. Frigga waited patiently for him to continue, her hands folded over her knee.
“Today I disarmed him exactly as I did Laufey.” He finished, kneading his brow. “I have no doubt in my mind that Thor would be a fine king once he learns. He is truly an Asgardian fighter and will be none less than the best when he comes of age.”
“But?” Frigga questioned, knowing her husband all too well.
“But I fear Loki would make a far better ruler.”
Frigga smiled kindly. “He was born to be a King as well.”
“Yes…but not of Asgard.” He reminded.
She frowned, turning away contemplatively. “No…not of Asgard.”
They were silent for a long while, both fighting their own internal battles. They finally spoke at the same time.
“—I think we should tell him of his heritage—“
“—I think you should take away his magic—“
They looked at each other, expressions of upheaval apparent on their faces. Frigga answered first. “No. I will not do that to him! You cannot take away a sorcerer’s magic, Odin! If I took away Gungnir, you would hardly be able to walk straight you’ve been holding it up for so many years! Magic is a part of Loki and I would no sooner take Mjolnir from Thor.”
He held a firm stance. “Well we most certainly cannot tell him of his heritage! That would mean revealing him to the entire court! There will be an outrage! There will be a time and a place where, in a few years, we can reveal him and—“
“And what?” Frigga asked, a hint of aggressiveness sinking in.
Odin raised his chin defiantly. “—and mend the bond between Asgard and Jotunheim. Loki will marry a Jotunn princess and peace will once again be restored to Yggdrasil.”
Frigga raised a brow. “That is a terrible plan. Odin, any princess on Jotunheim would be his sister by blood.”
Odin pursed his lips in embarrassment. “Ah…I…did not think of that. It is no matter! Any noble of Jotunheim will do.”
The Queen approached him, blonde hair whipping around her face. “Odin, tell me this has not always been your reason for taking him…”
He said nothing.
“…Odin, he is my son. He is your son.”
“I know.” He sighed, striding to a window to watch the night sky. “He is a boy. But he will not be for much longer.” He turned back to his wife. “Soon, he will be a Frost Giant.”
***
Loki gently shook Darcy’s shoulder. “Darcy,” he whispered.
She grumbled in her sleep, shoving her head under her pillow. “I don’t wanna go to school.”
“I will not make you go to school. Perhaps instead, we can run away to Jotunheim. I hear the snow is lovely this time of year.”
Darcy gasped, sitting up. “Loki!”
He embraced her before she could finish her rambled greeting. He had truly missed Darcy. Two weeks without her friendship was equivalent to torture of sorts. Her hair was messy and it tickled his nose, but he hugged her anyways, unable to shake the thought that she would not always be there.
“Where have you been? I thought you were dead! We aren’t ever going to Muspelheim again! I’ve reread all the books on everything from politics to herbs and I don’t have anyth—what happened to your face?”
Loki released her, pushing his hair back into place. “I lost a duel with the Allfather.”
Gently, Darcy raised a finger to brush over the crusted paste that Sigyn had rubbed on his wound. His neck heated at the memory. “Is this Essence of Fray?” she inquired thoughtfully.
“I believe so.”
She cocked her head to the side. “Why didn’t you use magic? I was looking at the book on healing…couldn’t you use a cleansing spell and then a healing one? You got poked by Gungnir, right?”
Loki’s could feel the blood rushing to his cheeks. “Well...I didn’t...someone else tended to my wounds.”
“Oh. That makes more sense.” She was about to brush it off when she noticed her friend’s discomfort. “What happened?”
He scratched the back of his neck. “Nothing really…”
Should he tell her? Would she think it was improper of him? Would she think it was improper of Sigyn? Of course not, she was Darcy. She would only tease him.
“Loki, who? What happened?”
He cleared his throat, “Ah, Sigyn…”
Darcy wiggled her eyebrows. “Oh yeah? Sigyn, huh?”
He nodded once. “Ah...yes.”
Darcy giggled, “What else happened? Huh? Huh? Eh?”
“Um…she..well…” he straightened his posture. “She granted me a sign of her affection.”
This seemed to excite Darcy to the point of silliness. “She kissed you, didn’t she?” she took his silence as a yes. “Ooooh! Loki and Sigyn sitting in a tree K-I-S-S-I-N-G!”
Loki folded his arms across his chest, “That is childish.”
Darcy didn’t seem to care. “You loooooove her!”
“Darcy…”
“Looooove is in the aiiiiir!”
“Darcy!”
“Ooo, I’m Loki, and I’m in looooove with Sigyn!”
“I do not sound like that.”
Amused by her own jests, Darcy was reduced to a ball of repressed laughter on the bed, kicking her legs in happiness. “Did she kiss you on the lips?”
Loki turned away so she would not see his embarrassment. “No. It was on the cheek.”
She seemed disappointed. “Aw, that’s no fun. I was going to make more jokes.” She sighed, and then a smile stretched on her face. “You still loooove her!”
“Agh!”
“First comes love, then comes marriage, then come a baby in a baby carriage!” Darcy sang, standing on her bed.
Loki nearly fainted. “Darcy, you are being absurd. I believe it was only a simple sign of sympathy.”
She laughed, Jörmungandr mouthing her chin. She pet his head. “You guys would have the cutest kids.”
“Oh gods…”
“They would all be really pretty and tall. One would have blue eyes and black hair and another could have green eyes and blonde hair and you could name one of them after me!” Darcy sighed. “I think I’ll name my kids Astrid and Surtur. But I have to be married and then I have to kiss someone and then I’ll get pregnant.”
Loki just stared at her. Would she truly name one of her children after the King that had nearly had her killed? And did she truly believe that kissing would impregnate her? “I do not think that is how it works Darcy.”
“Of course it is! That’s how it happens in all the movies! People kiss and then sometimes they take their clothes off. I don’t know why though. I mean, I guess some people like to sleep naked. I tried it once, but I didn’t like it.” Darcy rambled, pausing to tap her chin in consideration of sleeping in the nude.
Loki could not believe he was having this conversation. “Darcy…that is not how it happens.”
She smirked, “Loki, I’m eleven. I know how babies are made.”
He swallowed dryly, slowly sitting next to Darcy on the side of her bed. “Darcy, I’m going to explain something to you. Alright?”
Five minutes later, Darcy had the most disgusted look on her face. “Ew! That can’t be how it works!”
“I assure you, that is how.”
“But…but…no!”
“Yes.”
“Eugh!” she wrung out her hands, “I’m never having kids! Ever! I’m going to get married to a girl; that way I never have to do that!” Darcy complained into her pillow.
Loki looked down at her incredulously. “Darcy…” he considered telling her of what he had learned from an…interesting (yes that’s the word for it, interesting)…book Fandral had showed him once. The gift had been a joke of sorts. Loki had no doubt Fandral had read it himself and only given it to Loki to make him uncomfortable. It did not embarrass him, Fandral failed in that regard. Yet the book lacked any kind of plot or storyline, so he did not finish reading it. However, he did learn a great deal from what he did read. “Never mind.”
Darcy sat up, as if coming to a sudden realization. “Wait, I was a baby once!”
“Obviously.”
“That means my mom and dad…eugh!” she collapsed into her sheets again, burying her face in Fenrir’s side. “My life is a lie.”
Loki found her reaction rather endearing. He had not gone through such theatrics when he read about it. In fact, he remembered it being no different to him than reading about common plants on Asgard. It was handy information, possibly to be used later. Darcy seemed to be having a much harder time.
“Wait, my parents had two kids! Oh no…they did it twice!”
Loki let his head fall into his hands as the truth dawned on Darcy. She went through every type of animal she knew, then through most of the people she knew, before calming down. “That is weird.”
“Darcy, it is the way of life.”
“It’s still weird.”
“If you say so.”
She tapped her chin. “I don’t get it.”
Loki had taken out his journal and was now reading through his notes today. “What’s not to get?”
“Some animals lay eggs! But human babies are born live.” She explained her confusion.
Loki snapped his journal shut, “I will get you a book. I cannot explain all this to you.”
“Why?”
“Because I do not want to explain it to you.”
“Okay, fine.” She agreed, falling back onto her bed, making a space for him between her and a now playing Jörmungandr and Fenrir. “Tell me about what you’ve been doing! I’ve only been getting detentions and Christmas happened and I had to go to church with my grandma. I got you a Christmas present though! You can see it tomorrow. But come on! Tell me.”
Loki waved a hand to magic himself into his nightwear, telling Darcy about the new political happenings in Yggdrasil. She read his journal at the same time, catching up on what she’d missed. “So you haven’t found anything on why you got burnt on Muspelheim?”
“No. It is most confusing.” He said, rubbing his eyes.
Darcy shut the book, rolling onto her belly, yawning widely. “Well, I’m really tired. My mom has to work tomorrow because she got a promotion at work, so they pay her more money and she has to go on planes and stuff.” She sighed, snuggling into her pillow. “We can do something tomorrow.”
“Do you have school?”
“No…it’s a Saturday.”
“Then I have a surprise for you tomorrow.”
Her small shoulders shook with a tired giggle. “I can’t wait.”
“Good night, Darcy.”
“G’night Loki.”