Frank Doesn't Like Beards
Loki would not say he thoroughly enjoyed sleeping next to Darcy. It would not have been so bad if Fenrir and Jörmungandr weren’t also curled up on top of the covers.
The Infinite Serpent had become a bit of a bed hog as of late, and Loki often found himself battling Jörmungandr in the night for his pillows.
Now, in Darcy’s bed, he endured Fenrir’s dreams, which must have involved lots of running, Jörmungandr’s use of Loki’s pillow, and Darcy’s wiggling habits. He had thought that perhaps she would stop moving after she went to sleep. Quite the contrary; she moved more.
At times, she would wrap herself so closely around him that he feared suffocation, and other times, she would kick and flail in an attempt to conquer the bed with her limbs. Needless to say, Loki slept restlessly that night and did not want to move when Darcy poked him awake at seven in the morning.
“Loki. Loki get up.”
“…no…”
“Loki, c’mon, my mom just left and my dad should be home at lunchtime. Darius is here, though. Do you want breakfast?” she asked, shaking his shoulder.
He groaned, snuggling further into the covers, unwilling to leave them for at least another hour. He could deal with hunger later. Darcy, obviously, could not. “Loki, you’re really boring in the morning. You had all night to sleep.”
He groaned louder.
A wet tongue lapped at his ear and he begrudgingly pulled himself from Darcy’s bed, staring at her irritably. Darcy only stared at him with a contemplative look on her face. “Huh.”
“What?” he asked her, rubbing his eyes and yawning.
She giggled, running her hand over his head. “Your hair is messy.”
“I do not think I care. Are we eating now, or would you also like me to go fight a war before breakfast?” He asked, nearly collapsing back on the pillows.
Darcy sighed. “Don’t be so dramatic, jeez. You slept seven hours, what more could you want? Come on Frank, my mom bought hot dogs yesterday.”
He and Fenrir were down the stairs before Loki could utter his next complaint. “You know, it is very hard to sleep when a small girl is using your body as, what do Midgardians call it? A hitting sack?”
“A punching bag.” Darcy clarified cheerily, leading them down the stairs
“Right. That.” He stopped talking once they were in the kitchen as Darcy opened the refrigerator to pull out a rather large pack of hot dogs, she opened the bag and set it on the counter.
“I’m just going to get a fork so I can put them on a plate and heat it…Frank!” she leapt in surprise to see their slithery friend swallow the entire pack of processed meat sticks.
Fenrir whined unhappily until Jörmungandr made a few hacking sounds, coughing and producing a couple bits of regurgitated hot dog. Fenrir ate the spit-up happily.
“Gross,” Darcy said. “Go do that somewhere else.”
Loki chuckled, opening the fridge and pulling out the jug of milk while Darcy got the bowls and spoons. He reached up to the high cupboard to retrieve the Fruit Loops and Darcy poured them their respective portions, Loki’s considerably larger than her own. They sat down together to eat, Darcy telling him about soccer. She complained about how pointless a game it was, but he could tell she had come to like the sport.
After Loki had woken up enough to eat properly, he remembered his plans for their day. “Darcy?”
“Yeah?”
“I do not celebrate this holiday of yours, Christmas, however, I believe it is customary to give friends gifts at this time, correct?”
Darcy nodded, slapping her palm to her forehead. “I got you something!”
“I have something for you as well. Though, it is more of a…well…I suppose I must ask you first.” Loki trailed off, waiting for her to give him an encouraging nod.
“Would you like to learn to fight?” he asked, setting down his spoon next to the empty bowl.
Darcy nearly fell off of her stool with how high her small form bounced into the air. “Would I?!”
“I’ll take that as a yes?”
She waved her spoon around, spots of milk flying into her hair. “You mean like swords and armor and that stuff you do?!”
“That is exactly what I mean.” Loki assured and this time, Darcy did fall off her stool.
He quickly leapt from his own seat to make sure she was okay. “Darcy?”
She jumped up, her smile overtaking her face. “Come on! Let’s go! This is going to be—“
Her exclamatory declaration was cut short by a boy’s voice and thundering footsteps coming down the stairs. “Darcy stop yelling all the time! How many times do I have to tell you to shut the hell up?”
Quickly, Loki cast a spell to turn himself invisible as a tall, lanky boy walked into the room. Loki’s first thought was that he should ask Thor to beat this boy until he was nothing but bloody pulp for what he said to Darcy. He then realized that this was Darius, Darcy’s older brother, whom he had never seen before.
Darius looked thoroughly irritated with his younger sister. “Look, Mom wanted me to babysit you until Dad gets home, which means you have to do what I say. So, shut. Up.”
Darcy lifted her chin defiantly, approaching her brother to poke him in the belly, “You shut up! I’m allowed to talk all I want! You’re only mad because Mom said you couldn’t go see your girlfriend!”
Both annoyed and angered, Darius pushed his sister away. “Shut up the fuck up, Darcy!”
Loki gasped at his language. Perhaps things were different on Midgard, but on Asgard, no one said that. It would be most improper, and to say it to a lady…? Unthinkable.
Darius must not have thought that because he proceeded to the refrigerator and pulled out what looked to be a tub of cold tomato sauce and a spoon.
“That’s gross.” Darcy commented.
“You’re gross.” He retorted.
“Your face is gross.” She replied and Loki did not think this was all true. Darius did not have the most appealing face, but he was not gross. Although, if he continued eating tomato sauce with a spoon, Loki would be tempted to agree with her.
He groaned. “Don’t you have something to do today? A room to play in? Something that doesn’t involve watching me eat breakfast?”
Darcy smirked. “That isn’t breakfast. It’s spaghetti sauce.”
“Get lost Darcy.” He grumbled and Loki almost wished he would try to make Darcy do something she didn’t want to do. She may be helpless against a Fire Giant, but something told him Darius Lewis was no match for his younger sister.
“Make me.” She teased, giggling as she went to the counter to retrieve their bowls and put them in a cleansing machine called a ‘dishwasher’.
Darius raised his brows at her and Loki saw the general aggravation he had against his sister dissolve. In the next second, he had a laughing Darcy against his chest and she was...screaming…no, she was laughing. His fingers moved over her ribcage and Darcy lifted her feet off the ground, face red. “Uncle! Uncle!”
Darius smiled, holding her still. “Are you sure?”
“Yes! Darius, come on!” she laughed breathlessly.
He let her down and Loki moved to follow Darcy as she began running upstairs when something caught his eye. Jörmungandr and Fenrir had their heads in the bowl of sauce. Unfortunately, Darius chose at that moment to turn around.
“OH MY GOD WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT AHHHH!” he screamed and, without wasting a second, Loki reached over to clamp his hands over Darius’ mouth, afraid he would wake up the entire neighborhood. Before Darius could know his silencer, Loki cast a spell to put him to sleep. He hated to set a trend with Darcy’s family, but giant snakes didn’t tend to go down well with those who did not spend their nights with one in their bed.
Darius immediately collapsed and Loki caught him under the arms, surprised at how light he was; heavier than Darcy but not by much. Loki had never been strong, but Midgardians all seemed so fragile.
He let Darius’ body slump onto the ground and Darcy sighed deeply. “Huh. Well, do you think he’ll remember it?”
Loki shrugged. “Perhaps he will think it’s a dream.”
“Yeah. Probably.” Darcy shook her head at her brother. “Anyways, I’m going to get dressed and then we can go! Oh, and I need to give you your Christmas present.”
Thirty minutes later, Darcy was showered, dressed, and sitting in front of Loki on her bed while he knotted her hair into a bun like Sif’s when she practiced. Darcy ran to the mirror and smiled; her light blue shirt sleeves were pushed up to her elbows. “Woah! I love it! Hold on, let me get your thing.”
He sat back on her pillows, watching as Darcy took out a few books from a lower shelf and uncovered from behind them, a small cellular device. “So, my family got new cell phones because apparently I need a cell phone too. But, I don’t know if phones work on other realms. They would probably have really bad signal or something. Anyways, I know you really like technology and you like taking apart my stuff. So I figured, you might like to take this apart.”
Loki accepted the phone, turning it in his hands. Darcy truly knew him well. A cellular phone device! As fascinating as the universe was, his interests were captured by the finer points of Midgardian technology. Their ability to view things on such a microscopic and technical scale was enchanting. Loki knew it was not as efficient to create things in such a mundane way, but he somehow felt as though having a broader understanding of it would help him breech some magical barrier.
“Darcy…I…you know me too well.”
“You like it?” she asked, kneeling next to him, her wide eyes looking even wider because of her tied back hair.
“Very much.” He assured, already trying to figure out how to get it open. He stopped himself, storing it in his coat pocket. “I shall look over it later then explain to you how it works. Thank you Darcy.”
She grinned, rubbing Fenrir behind his ears. “You’re welcome.” She bit her bottom lip, shifting from one foot to another, like there was something she’d really like to say. “So…about the fighting thing?”
Loki’s brow creased. What if she did not desire to learn? It would be a terrible present if she did not wish to learn. How would she defend herself if she did not? How would he defend them? “Darcy…”
“Will I get my own sword? Or am I going to fight with a hammer? Or daggers, like you? Or a mace, like Hogun? Or an axe? Do you think I could use an axe?” Darcy asked excitedly.
He relaxed, pulling himself off Darcy’s bed and straightening his armor. “I shall explain on Asgard, yes?”
“Awesome!” She agreed, roughly throwing herself under the bed. “Come on!” her muffled voice demanded of him.
Loki happily complied, he and Jörmungandr following her under. In no time, they were sitting in the cave, the light of a bright Asgardian morning pouring in.
Darcy ‘s mouth was going at a thousand words per minute, debating if she would be able to use her new skills at school. Hel was waiting in the field, her bones clicking together as she stood. Loki walked over to pet her mane. “You do not have to stay Hel. I will call you when I intend to go home.”
She whinnied, nuzzling the young prince’s hair with her nose. He watched her prance off into the forest, entranced as she turned around the side of a tree, disappearing into nothing. It was so mesmerizing that he had not noticed Darcy had stopped talking. “How does she do it?”
Loki shook his head. “I do not know. Hel is special.”
“Well, she is half skeleton.” Darcy pointed out obviously.
“Yes.” He agreed walking around to make sure their area was spacious enough. “But it is more than that. When I attempted to heal Hel, I killed her. She is, quite literally, half dead. She is bound to Helheim by death, yet she walks amongst the living.”
“Helheim is where all the dead people go, right?” Darcy asked, trailing closely behind him, her voice heavy with curiosity.
“It is.”
“Then I don’t get it,” Darcy countered, her tone edging along the lines of a potential challenge. “How can you know she goes to Helheim? What if she goes to, like, Hawaii or something?”
Loki drew a blank. What Darcy offered was most certainly worthy of consideration. He believed Hel traveled to Helheim because his mother told him. Why did his mother believe that? Did he ever ask Hel? His mother claimed Hel went to Nilfheim, the province of Helheim that held the dishonorable dead. But he had never asked, never checked.
Darcy kept asking questions he had no answers to. “How do you know she’s half dead? What if all her meat and guts just fell off and she has magic horse powers? How do you know that the dead people go to Helheim, anyways?”
Loki felt like his mind had been flattened and was working double time to regain its full shape. He answered her last question with another. “How do you mean?”
Darcy tapped her chin, thoughtfully kicking the dirt. “Well, has anyone ever been to Helheim?”
“There are times…well…legends, I suppose, of men that have taken the bifrost there. But none have returned.” Loki said carefully, quickly trying to remember everything he had ever been taught.
“I wanna go.” Darcy stated matter-of-factly.
Loki could not answer immediately.
Helheim, as far as he had been led to believe, was the land of the dead. Going there was suicide; no one considered it because the mere thought of traveling to Helheim was unheard of unless it was part of some story you told your children at night. But Darcy’s musings had caught him off guard. It would be easier if she had questioned life. He knew plenty about that.
Yet, she asked of death, and of that no one knew but the dead…the dead who he now queried the existence of.
“I…I do not know. I will do research. But Darcy…I have no idea if we can go.” He said slowly, trying to organize his thoughts. “I will look into it. But this is…this is what Asgardians have believed for…well since forever really.”
Darcy seemed to find this interesting, watching as Jörmungandr and Fenrir chased each other around small bushes and ferns. “Well, when my grandma makes me go to church, we learn about God and how people go to heaven when they die. Unless you’re bad, then you go to hell. But, I think they’re weird. None of them have ever been to heaven, so how do they know?”
Loki massaged his temples. “We must look further into this later. I am intrigued. But for now, you must learn to fight.”
The short Midgardian’s face split into a grin. “What am I going to fight with? Can I fight like you? You’re a great fighter!”
His heart thudded a little harder at those words and he had a strong desire to laugh. No one had ever called him an apt fighter before. Many had even claimed he would be incapable in a real battle. He feared that may be true. “Well, for now, let’s just say, I am a better fighter than you. I was thinking you could start with a sword. The form is easiest to wield for someone of little strength. Not saying that you are weak, Darcy…” he corrected himself quickly, “It’s only that you are small and Midgardians, I’ve noticed, do not have the endurance of Asgardians.”
She nodded. “Yeah. I’m the weakest person on my soccer team. I can’t kick as hard as everyone else. It kinda sucks.”
He empathized with that sentiment. “Yes. So, sword it is. A one handed short sword.” He said, carefully planning out the kind of weapon she would need. It could not be too heavy or too long. Darcy had not and would not have years to develop the dexterity that he had accomplished with daggers. She needed a light weapon with enough reach to attack when needed.
Focusing his energy, he thought through the series of words and magical rules that went into creating a spell to conjure Darcy a sword from his imagination. He was pleased to find it had not drained him of energy as it once would have. He handed the new sword to her and she stared in awe, holding it so light glinted off the flat of the blade.
The blade itself was silver but the pummel was gold, decorated with glowing ornate ivy leaves and vines. “Do I get a shield too?”
Loki examined Darcy’s arms. “I do not think that would be wise. Shields are heavy and require a certain amount of training if you are intending to use one as a proper shieldmaiden. I have never trained with a shield.”
“Why?” Darcy asked backing up and swishing her sword about in a fashion that had Loki more concerned for her safety than her enemies.
“Because,” he began, moving to stand behind her, guiding her fingers to their proper positions on the grip and adjusting her stance. “I like to move around. Shields make that difficult.”
“What if it’s a small shield? Like Sif’s?”
Loki shrugged, “Stand tall Darcy. You will tire easily if you slouch.” He instructed, pressing a hand to her lower back in order to straighten her posture. “They do not appeal to me. It is also quite difficult to fight around a shield. Blocking is almost purely defensive unless you have enough strength to bash someone with it. Fighting defensively with a sword would then be pointless. Besides, I would not feel comfortable teaching you shield etiquette since I have not trained with one myself.” He walked around her now gracefully poised body to lift her chin. “When engaged in combat, look at who you are fighting. Acknowledge how they move and what their weaknesses are. There is no better aid in battle than sight.”
She nodded once, her pouty lips determined. “What do I do with my other arm?”
“Use it for balance.” He suggested, correcting the position of her elbow and hand.
Darcy made a face and her shoulders slumped forwards minutely before Loki pushed them back. “I feel like I’m in ballet. My mom made me take ballet when I was little because she thought it would stop me from being clumsy.”
“Was it helpful?” Loki inquired, inspecting her posture once more.
Darcy shrugged, effectively breaking her stance. Thankfully, she recovered it. “I don’t know. I liked it but I wasn’t very good. And my mom said when I get older my boobs will be too big.”
Loki’s hands froze on Darcy’s shoulders. What a strange word. It couldn’t possibly mean…
“I think she’s wrong. Just because she has them and my grandma has them, doesn’t mean I have them. Plus, I’m not having babies. So I don’t need boobs anyways.”
…breasts. Women on Asgard would never, ever, speak so lightly of that to a man.
Then again, Darcy was not Asgardian. Even so, the more he thought about it, the less shocked he was. They were just a part of her, were they not? It was no different than if he were to speak of muscles he may grow or magic he may develop. Quickly, he began their conversation again, hoping she would not notice his initial discomfort. “Is that the only reason you stopped dancing?”
“I guess,” she said, changing positions as he instructed her. “Hey, can I fight with two swords?”
“Two swords?”
She flailed her arms in terrible imitation of actual fighting positions. “Yeah! That way I could defend and attack and all that other stuff you were talking about.”
He considered her proposition. It wasn’t a horrible idea. She was right in that two swords would allow her to attack and defend more smoothly. However, she would also have to build up her strength. One does not fight well for long if they cannot hold up their own blade. “Alright.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yes. I’m serious. But—“
“This is going to be amazing! I’m going to be like…like…Darth Maul! Well…not really, I don’t want my swords to be together like that…I don’t know…Somebody really awesome with two swords and –“
“Darcy.”
“Yeah?” she gave him her attention once more and soon she caught on to his serious attitude and snapped back into place.
He conjured another sword and handed it to her, hilt first, then moved to stand behind her as his instructor had done when he learned to fight. He held her hands around the swords, keeping the grip in check, their bodies lined up so she was forced to stand with her back straight. In this new alignment, her bun touched his cheek, a few stray hairs tickling his nose.
“Can you put my initials on them?”
“Your initials?”
“Yeah. D.L.” she said, holding out the weapons in the worst form he’d ever seen. “That way they can be my swords.”
Abiding by her wishes, Loki cast a spell to engrave her initials in cursive onto the respective handles; ‘D’ on the left and ‘L’ on the right. “Is that well suited for the Lady Darcy?” he asked teasingly.
“Very much, Prince Loki.” She snorted out in another creative imitation of his accent.
Smiling, he stiffened their pose, urging her back into place.
“What’s the first rule of wielding a sword Darcy?” he asked. It was a rhetorical question. He didn’t expect her to know.
“You’ve got to stick them with the pointy end?” she asked hopefully and he laughed, almost breaking their perfect posture.
“That’s the essence of it. The thing to remember about dual wielding is that you must never let your guard down. Two blades means double the strength and you must be prepared at all times to both block…” he pulled their right arms forward in a simple defensive move. At the same time, he nudged her knee into a bent angle to support the expected blow the blade would have taken if she were sparring.
“…and attack.” With his other hand, he quickly brought their arms forwards in one swift movement that, had their invisible opponent been weary, would have sliced his side.
Loki let go of her hands and backed away, magically bringing forth his own sword. Darcy watched with wide, awed eyes. “Woah. Hey, are we—“
He cut her off with a quick lash of his blade which she lifted her first sword to deflect, just in time. Secretly, Loki cast an enchantment to ensure the blades would not maim their opponents for the time being.
Darcy prepared herself for Loki’s next blow, managing to look both extremely nervous and hyper at the same time. He reminded himself that Darcy would not be able to take the brutal training process that his father had demanded he and Thor go through for years on end. He stuck to simple maneuvers, bringing his sword about to try and hit her legs or shoulder. Each time she blocked him, but did so quite weakly.
He noticed she was trying too hard to keep her posture intact and it was throwing off her fluidity. If he had been a master swordsman dueling her for his life, she would have died. This thought made Loki’s heart flutter uncomfortably and he hastily sought to encourage his friend.
“Shouldn’t I learn some things first? Like some awesome moves? Do Asgardians have weak spots? What if you stab me?” she squeaked, using both swords to counter his attack.
“Darcy, do you really think I could stab you?” He soothed, striking out again.
But her block was no different and one of her swords remained idle.
“Maybe.” She squeaked.
Instantly concerned, Loki thought of what he knew of Darcy Lewis. How did she learn? He thought to her bedroom. Whenever he explained something, she was moving. (Of course, she was Darcy. She didn’t stop moving.) She asked questions, she made sassy comments, and she always took the time to acknowledge what she was learning. She studied it.
“Darcy, look at me.” Loki demanded and her blue eyes found his. He could see her apprehension melt a bit. He spoke to her, raising his sword. “Notice how I move Darcy. There are no special attacks that will let you win instantly. Study me. Find what I cannot do and what I can do, discover my strengths and my weaknesses.”
With a certain tranquility in her eyes Loki usually only saw when she was reading, Darcy looked him up and down. “Okay.”
“What did you find?”
She grinned a bit. “Your hair is still messy.”
Loki smirked, quickly fixing his usually neat black locks. “Yours is always messy. What else besides the state of my hair?”
Her gaze studied him once again. “Well…you’re left handed...and your sword is longer than mine.”
He nodded approvingly, stepping forwards and flicking his sword at her ribs. She blocked it, not taking her eyes off him. “What else?” he encouraged.
“You don’t usually fight with a sword.” She pointed out.
“Yes.” He acknowledged, whipping around her so she had to spin to face him. “But you already know that.”
“Yeah.” She agreed, but he could see something stirring in her eyes. “But it means that you usually fight with a dagger. And you’re sneaky.”
“I am.” He said, aiming a quicker stab at her neck and this time, she sidestepped his attack.
“Which means if we fight…” she seemed to debate something before bringing her first sword forward to attack.
The swing was weak and rather slow, but her form was still in place. Without truly thinking, he dove under the blade, spinning on the toe of his boot to put his blade to the back of her neck. But Darcy’s blade was already there, shakily blocking his attack.
“…then you’ll try to be elusive.” She finished, their blades forming an ‘X’ between them. Their faces were so close that Loki could feel her tired breaths against his chin.
Something stronger than relief swept over him. “Very good.” He took note of her weakness. It was almost terrifying. She had hardly been fighting and she was already worn out. He made a decision to not use his full strength on her, for he did not want to harm her beyond repair. However, it was crucial that she learn to fight things stronger than herself.
She smiled, breaking away from their stance. “Really? You mean it?”
Loki quirked a smile. “No. I was lying.”
“Liar. I did fabulous!” she said, dropping her swords. “My arms hurt.”
Loki stowed his own blades, indicating for Darcy to do the same with two leather and silver sheaths he conjured for her. She did so while he spoke. “You did very well Darcy…”
She sat down in the grass, her skin dewed with sweat. “But…?”
He hesitated.
“Come on Loki. How am I supposed to get better if you don’t tell me what I did wrong?” she asked, plucking a few blades of grass and knotting them together.
Loki pressed his lips together, still pacing the field as he chose his words wisely. He no sooner wished to offend Darcy than he wished to be back on Muspelheim. “You are clever, Darcy. Yet, you are Midgardian and you do not possess the physical strength of other races. It will make fighting increasingly more difficult.”
Darcy cocked her head to the side. “Isn’t that racist?”
“No.” Loki said promptly, slightly hurt. Would Darcy really think it of him to feel that way about her? She, his friend? “I have nothing against Midgardians, least of all you. But it is like the magic. Aesir have abilities that Midgardians do not. Darcy, please do not think I meant any offense.”
Darcy smirked at him. “Loki, I was joking. I know you’re stronger than me. Besides, racism is different on Earth. People judge other people because of the color of their skin, or sometimes if you’re weird and mean and terrible...”
Loki was about to comment on the various historical facts he knew of Midgardian racism and how ridiculous it was that they should slaughter themselves by the thousands over something as little as skin color.
“…although, I guess Asgard is racist too.”
He turned to her, defensive. “We are not.”
“Yeah you are.” She insisted, plucking a few flowers from the earth and knotting them together.
“Darcy, I would think no lower of someone because of their color—“
“What about Jotunns?” she inquired curiously, a small smug smile on her lips and Loki thought quickly in order to keep his composure.
“That is different. Jotunns are monsters.” He argued calmly.
Both her eyebrows shot up, expression skeptical. “Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay.”
“What do you mean, ‘okay’?”
She added another flower to her rope of vegetation. “Well, have you ever met a Frost Giant?”
Loki finger combed his hair back, “Darcy, you may be able to say that about Fire Giants, or Elves, or even Dark Elves, but you cannot say that about Frost Giants. There are books, countless books, written of their monstrous lives. Surely you’ve read a few of them?”
She looked sadly at her flowers which she now began adding small purple buds to. “Yeah. I guess. It just…okay.”
Loki could tell she had more thoughts on the subject and perhaps she would bring it up later, but for now, he decided to leave it as it was. Darcy thought so progressively he almost feared her next meeting with anyone from the palace. She may be arrested for treason.
He lay down next to her on the grass, briefly thinking to his duties on Asgard and wondering if the Allfather was greatly disappointed in him. He could be bettering himself for the good of Asgard and what was he doing? Teaching a mortal girl to fight?
He was a terrible prince, putting his own desires before the good of the kingdom. Nevertheless, he did not care. Asgard was in no dire need of his attention right now and perhaps Darcy’s survival would be of some benefit to them.
Perhaps—
“Loki?”
“Yes Darcy?”
She sat up and gestured for him to do the same. Gingerly, she placed the ring of flowers she had bound together on his head while she talked. “I’ve been reading a lot of those books, right? To figure out what happened to you on Muspelheim. Have you found anything?”
“No,” he admitted glumly. “It is worrisome.”
“Yeah.” She replied, adjusting his crown of flowers. He smirked at her and she giggled. “Well, I did find some things.” She tapped her chin pensively, “You’re not secretly disguised as a Frost Giant, are you?”
Loki rolled his eyes, moving the flowers onto her head. “Yes. Of course. The Allfather stole me away from Jotunheim when I was a child to raise me as one of his own.”
She sniggered. “Okay, okay. I was just kidding.”
They sat in silence for a few moments, watching as Fenrir and Jörmungandr played. Although, their playing looked significantly similar to the training Darcy and Loki had just been through. Jörmungandr was swiveling circles around his doggy friend, and occasionally Fenrir would snap out and take Jörmungandr’s tail in his maw. The snake would respond in turn by putting his mouth on Fenrir’s tail and the two would run/slither around in circles till they couldn’t see straight any longer.
Darcy laughed at them, standing back up, “Can we try again? I want to get really good at this. That way, the next time I have to fight someone, I won’t have to forfeit.”
Loki nodded, getting to his feet and brandishing his sword. “Very well. I will teach you what I can. But you must promise me something. A few things actually.”
“Okay.” She agreed taking out one of her swords.
“Promise me you will work on building your strength. It will be helpful for you to have endurance.” He said in a very princely manor.
“You mean you actually want me to do the push ups in gym class?” she groaned.
“Yes.” Loki smiled, straightening her flower crown, thinking that she looked very much like a princess. “And another thing…” he began more seriously.
“Yeah?”
“Promise me you will never use your strength to hurt someone who is not threatening your life.” He commanded, placing his hands on her shoulders.
She nodded vigorously. “I promise. I don’t want to hurt anyone.”
“Thank you.” He said, backing away and holding up his sword. “Now, onto the swords-woman’s positioning…”
They trained for hours without sparring. Instead, Loki taught Darcy tricks he’d learned about balance and maximizing the force of a blow while minimizing the exertion to make the hit. She took well to the theory of the lessons and her mind was most adept in the concept of battle. However, her body was not and this worried him.
He hoped that if he taught her all he could about knowing your opponent and the style of their armor and the class of their weapon then she might be able to work against her weak mortal form in favoring intelligence. If only she had magic. It would make her situation so much easier.
Finally, when Darcy was drenched in sweat and her bun had finally come undone, he instructed her to lower her blade.
“I think that is all for today, Darcy.” He said and she dropped her arm from the position she had been standing in for the past ten minutes, repeating a countering technique that would both defend and injure if done properly.
“Oh good.” She said and collapsed in the grass. “Loki?”
He bent down next to her, fawning over her panting form. “Yes Darcy?”
“Can we do this again tomorrow?”
He laughed at her silliness. “Darcy, you will not be able to get out of bed tomorrow.”
She stuck her tongue out at him, not bothering to move her limbs as he lay down beside her, thinking of their discussion about Helheim. Could they travel there? Would it mean death? He was so curious, but he unsure if he could take such a chance… as the Midgardian saying went, ‘curiosity killed the cat’.
He sighed, watching Darcy pet a snoozing Fenrir and receive cheek licks from Jörmungandr.
No matter her evident mortality, Loki admired Darcy Lewis. Though born Midgardian, she bore the aptitude for the life of an Asgardian. If Darcy could begin the undoing of a thousand year old belief of Asgardians in five minutes…well…he could only imagine what she could do in five thousand years.
He cursed himself. How could he think that? She was to die before his life was half over! He needed to find some way…some means to make her impervious to Midgardian ailment and age. Someone of such intelligence, someone who could understand the world in so little time, someone who meant so much to him and made him feel…
Feel what? Like he belonged someplace? Like he was someone of importance?
He didn’t know. He only knew that of all things he desired to see, the corpse of his Midgardian friend was not one of them.
“I need to go back home soon.” She sighed, making no attempt to get up.
“Yes.” He agreed.
They both stayed laying in the grass as a light breeze drifted past.
“Hey Loki?”
“Yes Darcy?”
“Will you carry me? I don’t know if my legs work anymore.”
They laughed loudly, chortling over their own uncontrollable hysterias until Darcy was sure of her need to return home.
And Loki carried her there.
***
“Prince Loki, the Allfather requires your presence.”
Loki nearly groaned into his pillow.
When he returned from Darcy’s Loki found that he could hardly keep his eyes open and decided to take to his chambers for a short rest before getting on with his duties for the day.
Apparently the rest of Asgard had other plans for no sooner had he laid down than a messenger appeared at his door with a message.
Suppressing a yawn, Loki stood, smoothing back his hair. “Very well.” He said, Jörmungandr curling around his shoulders as he walked out into the hall. “Do you know what is it he requires of me?”
The messenger shook his head, “No, Your Highness.”
Loki pressed his lips together, suddenly concerned. “Thank you. You may go.”
“He awaits you in his study.” The messenger bowed rigidly then quickly walked away.
Anxiously, Loki hurried in the direction of the Allfather’s chambers. What had he done now? Was it the fighting? Had he neglected too many of his duties? It was most definitely the fighting. He had not been doing his duty to Asgard and his father was going to strip him of his crown.
He approached the majestic golden doors to Odin’s personal study with the posture of a prince. He had not been removed of his title yet. He would wear it with pride while it was still his to bear. The guards framing the entryway opened the doors for him and he stepped inside.
Of all the workspaces in the palace Loki admired, the Allfather’s study ranked the first. The walls gleamed gold and the windows behind lead out onto the loveliest view in all of Asgard save the one in his room. There were limitless shelves lining the walls and Loki could imagine them filled with books of his choosing, all at his fingertips exactly when he needed them.
Though, at the moment, he could not quite focus on the beauty of Odin’s workspace. He was far too distracted by the Allfather’s piercing gaze.
“Loki Odinson, Prince of Asgard, do you know why you are here?” he asked shortly and Loki could not avoid the scrutiny of his father’s glare. It was almost painful to meet his eye. But he did because he was a prince and princes did not shy away from intimidating looks.
Loki attempted to keep his expression detached. “Father, I will make plans with Thor to remedy my mistakes from yesterday. I swear—“
Odin rubbed his brow, face wrinkling in some flash of turmoil Loki had not seen before. “It was not your fighting, Loki.” His gaze sharpened and he sat up. “Do you truly not know?”
Loki shook his head uncertainly. What had his father found out about? Was it Darcy? Or…Muspelheim. Oh gods, Surtur had declared war on Asgard! No…there would be more immediate—
“Today, I received notification from King Surtur of Muspelheim that he wishes to create an alliance with Asgard.”
He had not been expecting that one. “An alliance?”
“Yes Loki, an alliance.” Odin repeated, standing up and moving to look out the window at the setting sun.
He forced himself to remain perfectly still. “What does this alliance entail?”
“That should either of our realms enter a war, the other will be there to support them.” Odin answered shortly. “Of course, you know what an alliance between Asgard and Muspelheim means.”
Indeed he did know. The treaty between Muspelheim and Nidavellir that had been grounded for centuries would not easily break. Nidavellir has recently made a pact with Vanaheim. And historically, the Vanir and the dwarves did not typically get along. So the chances of that bond were weak. If a war came, it seemed Asgard would have a greater number of supporters. Of course, it would be an absurd notion for Vanaheim to declare war on Asgard now.
Now their only concern was taming those from Nornheim.
“We may be able to evade war.” Loki said, just loudly enough for Odin to hear.
The Allfather nodded slowly, not turning away from his window. “Indeed,” he muttered. “Do you have any idea, Loki, why the Fire Giants would propose such an agreement?”
Loki thought through what would bring Surtur to that decision. The eldjötnar did not hold appreciation for Asgard in the past. In fact, tensions had been high. There must have been a deciding factor…something must have changed their minds. And he could only think of one little mortal girl.
“I have no idea.” He lied smoothly.
Odin sighed, retreating to his desk and lifting a piece of paper. “I had the scribes relay Surtur’s message. In it, he states, quite vaguely, that you have changed his mind. He claims he warned both you and your little friend that there would be ‘consequences’ to your actions.”
Consequences. Didn’t Darcy mention something about not hearing all of what the Fire King had said?
The Allfather was not quite finished. “He thanks you for you and your friend’s insurance in the survival of Muspelheim’s pride. He wanted you to know that the others have passed away.”
Loki felt as if something heavy had been dropped in his chest. Astrid had survived…it must have been the water…
Odin seemed passive and this terrified Loki. He could not have hoped to keep his entire life from the Allfather, could he? Of course not. “Surtur did not elaborate much further than that.”
“He did not seem to be one for elaboration when we met.” Loki recalled thinking of Muspelheim and that insufferable heat.
The Allfather only stared blankly. “Heimdall claims that he did not grant you passage to Muspelheim. Surtur did not mention as to how you got there. He did not mention who your friend was.”
After an agonizingly long silence, Loki spoke. “Perhaps he meant Jörmungandr?”
The snake responded to his name, slithering onto the Allfather’s desk and bringing himself nose to nose with the King. He seemed temporarily enamored with Odin’s white beard, putting his mouth on it for a curious cuddle before backing away in horror.
Loki resisted the temptation to jump out the window.
Thankfully, Odin did not smite him with Gungnir. Instead, he offered Jörmungandr a small stroke on his scaly spine. “You have made a pet of an Infinite Serpent and brought him to Muspelheim to ensure the survival of their pride?”
Loki inadvertently gulped, shrugging a teensy bit. “I suppose.”
The Allfather made a sound of gruff frustration. “I remember my Father had to scold me when I was your age for abandoning my responsibilities in favor of picking fights with those I could defeat and making, quite honestly, awful attempts at wooing your mother.”
Loki ducked his head so his slight grin could not be seen.
“And now,” Odin folded his hands, “I am thinking of a way to reprimand you for doing the impossible in evading a war.”
Loki relaxed his clenched fingers that had begun to shake at his sides. “I apologize, Father, for my elusive behavior.”
After a long moment, Odin spoke indifferently. “Do I wish to know how it happened?”
“I cannot say, Father.”
“No. I suppose, you cannot.” He sighed, standing up and brandishing Gungnir. “Go, Loki. Tonight there will be a feast commemorating this day. It shall be named in your honor.”
It was a clear dismissal, but Loki stayed a moment longer. “No.”
“No?”
Loki shook his head, thinking of the words he needed so he would not stumble over them like a child, “I believe it would be the best interest to Asgard if this feast celebrated an achievement of Asgard rather than honor an individual that helped to achieve it.”
“Is this modesty?”
The prince cursed the heat that crept up his neck. “There is a time and place for flaunting one’s own deeds. Mine, I do not think the court would take kindly to.”
Odin studied him for a moment longer, giving Jörmungandr one last stroke. “As you wish it.”
Bowing, Loki turned to leave, hardly believing his luck when Odin called back to him. “And Loki?”
“Yes?”
“I almost forgot,” he grinned a little, waving Surtur’s message at him. “King Surtur also wishes you and your friend to know that he is aware of the heat of a Midgardian summer and hopes that your friend found everything she desired from Muspelheim’s basements.”
Loki nearly toppled over from the blood that had suddenly rushed to his cheeks. Surely he had no excuse for this. “I—“
“Have a pleasant evening, Loki.” The Allfather said, returning to his paper, leaving the young Prince to bow and return his chambers in search of magic powerful enough to ward a mortal against the Allfather .