Frank is a Mess
“Lewis! Good Work! Good Work!”
Darcy grinned widely as she retreated to centerfield after scoring her second goal this practice. She had been learning to fight with swords for five months now and every time she got just a little better. Loki said her main problem was that she wasn’t very strong. At first, Darcy had no issue with this. She continued sparring in a way that would not require much physical strength.
But it didn’t last long. The moment she backed down or believed she was beating him, Loki would use magic or perform a move that was simply impossible for her to counter. That’s when she decided she was going to get stronger.
Darcy asked her mom about gaining muscle and regretted it almost immediately. Mrs. Lewis was an expert, or so she said, on healthy eating. She advised her daughter to a high protein, high vegetable diet and encouraged her to try harder at soccer.
Caught between her dislike for vegetables and her desire to be a better swordswoman, Darcy made the choice to do as her mother said. Ever since, Darcy had tried her best at soccer and occasionally ate her broccoli. (Mostly just to get more dessert.) She played offense, which Loki claimed she needed to work at more since she wielded two swords, and her coordination was becoming increasingly better.
Coach blew her whistle, calling the end of practice.
Legs sore from her strenuous activity, Darcy still managed to run to the benches to collect her bag while Coach spoke to the team.
“Summer break begins next week those of you who signed up for the soccer over the summer, remember that practice starts at eight in the morning every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday.”
Darcy drank deeply from her water bottle, nonplussed. She had signed up for summer soccer practice, but the more time she spent at soccer, the less time she got to spend with Loki.
Loki. She was worried about him. The rebellion in Nornheim was threatening to be a bigger issue every day. The chances of a war with Vanaheim were quite low because of Asgard’s new alliance with Muspelheim. But if the Vanir got desperate and asked the Jotunns for help…
She was sure that Asgard was on the brink of a rebellion which, if not handled with absolute caution, could result in civil war. According to Loki, if there was a war of any sort, he was required to be in it because he was a Prince of Asgard and it was his duty to protect the Realm Eternal.
And there was no way that Darcy Lewis was letting Loki go off to war without her there to protect him. That’s why she had to get good with her swords. He needed her there.
She sighed as she thought about him, sitting down on the grass next to one of the girls on her team named Grace. She was nice, had curly black hair and played defense. They also sat next to each other at lunch. “Nice shot, Darcy.”
“Thanks.” Darcy said, taking another gulp from her water bottle. “Are you doing soccer over the summer?”
Grace nodded, sitting up on her knees. “Yeah. My mom is making me. She says it’s better than TV. Are you doing it? Or are you going to go somewhere?”
Television. Darcy didn’t have a whole lot of time for watching shows like her classmates. Not that she saw anything wrong with them, but if she and Loki were ever going to travel again, she needed to be sure it was safe. That required a lot of reading, studying, and formulating equations that may or may not function properly. Smiling, Darcy fell back on the grass. “I think I might go on vacation with my friend.”
“That sounds fun! I went to Disneyland last summer with Ashley. It was really awesome.” Grace said, waving over Ashley Nelson. She was funny and had long carrot orange hair.
“I’m going to die if we have to run anymore! My feet hurt like crazy!” she complained, slumping in the grass next to Darcy.
They hummed in agreement, Darcy taking another big swig of water when she saw him.
Nick Benedict. 7th grader, going on 8th grade. The boys’ soccer teams’ left midfielder.
Darcy had sat next to him for her last semester. Ms. Cutter had gotten tired of Darcy falling asleep in class, so she moved her up to the 7th grade math class so she would be challenged in her studies. This did not stop Darcy from falling asleep during her teacher’s lessons.
Consequently, and completely on accident, Darcy’s head sometimes lolled off onto Nick’s desk and he would have to tap her shoulder to wake her up. When she was awake, they would talk and pass notes in class and, if he asked, Darcy would help him with what they were supposed to be learning.
That’s how she acted when they were alone, in class, with the subject of math to keep her on track. But at times like these before her mom came to get her from practice, she always said the wrong thing. The problem wasn’t that she liked him. She didn’t like him. She especially didn’t like-like him. That would be gross.
She was Darcy Lewis and Darcy Lewis did NOT like boys. Ew. Gross. Boys.
However, she found that when there were other people around while they were together, she would end up the most awkward conversationalist in all of Yggdrasil. Really, it was all Nick’s fault.
“Hey Darcy! And Grace and…Amy?” Nick questioned politely, sitting down across from the girls.
“Ashley.” The red-head corrected.
Darcy looked up at him and found herself searching for the words to say. But she was distracted by his smile. Was he smiling at her?
Quickly, she swallowed the water she realized she’d been holding in her cheeks for an embarrassing amount of time. “Hi.”
Grace giggled next to her and Darcy had a strange urge to tackle her friend and shove her mouth full of grass.
Nick didn’t seem to care very much and flipped his bangs off his face. “Darcy can I get a ride home with you today? My mom is caught up at work.”
Darcy fought her tongue for words. “Uh, yeah. Sure.” She rapidly glanced between her two girlfriends, positively unsure of what to do. Grace was stifling giggles while Ashley was smiling openly at Nick.
“You’re a really great midfielder.” She commented with a flirty grin.
Darcy felt something inside her clench. She knew there were a lot of girls that wrote Nick’s name in their binders with little hearts around it. Ashley even said she had a crush on him. But Darcy was above fawning over boys. Boys. Nasty.
“Thanks. I’m going to do this over the summer. I love soccer.” He said cheerily and Darcy could help notice his charismatic nature. He really was a nice person.
“Me too. I love it.” Ashley said quickly and Darcy rolled her eyes.
Grace now couldn’t help but burst out into laughter and Ashley sent her friend a dirty look. Nick laughed a bit too, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah…anyways, Darcy what did you think of that last question on the math final? You probably got it right, but I’m pretty sure I failed it.”
Darcy shrugged, finally bringing her eyes to the boy in front of her. “Uh, yeah. It was okay. I mean, it’s just algebra. If you solved using the quadratic formula it should be okay. Really it’s all just preparation for working with projectile motion, and is one of the basic fundamentals for every arithmetic calculation past trigonometry….” Darcy trailed off, taking in the blank stares from her friends. “I mean…yeah, it was okay I guess.”
Nick gave her a funny look then smiled. “Darcy, how do you even know all that? You sleep half the class and talk to me the other half.”
She played with the grass at her feet, “Uh, my friend taught me.”
Grace looked like she wanted to say something but there was a loud honk from the parking lot. Darcy glanced over her shoulder, relieved to see it was her mother. “Well, bye guys. See you tomorrow. Last week of school!”
Nick stood too and Darcy noticed he was tall, but not as tall as Loki. Loki was really tall. And he didn’t look as strong as Loki either. Loki always said he was not as strong as most Aesir, but Darcy thought he was lying. He had muscles. “So, I can get a ride with you? I think my mom called your mom. They work together.”
“Okay, I guess.” Darcy agreed again, picking up her water bottle and gym bag. Her heart did a flippy thing and she was suddenly concerned about the state of her hair. Loki had braided it last night, but it was probably messy from soccer.
Loki.
Oh no, Nick couldn’t come over! Loki was supposed to be there when she got home from school so they could practice on Asgard! Okay, she would just quickly tell Nick he couldn’t come over and it would all be fine.
“Uh, Nick, I don’t know…”
“Nick!” her mother called from the car. “You’re coming back to our house, honey! Your mom is going to pick you up from there!”
Well, shoot.
***
Loki sat in his place at the conference table as someone announced the state of Asgard’s most recent domestic affairs and he silently scolded himself for wishing the man speaking would walk off the end of the Bifrost.
Every day for months he was either enduring meetings with the councils of Asgard, sparing with Thor, or studying and training with Darcy.
Ever so slowly, his skills in battle were becoming honed and he found that offensive fighting could be done if he focused his strength using a combination of both body and blade. If he could knock his opponent off his feet without stabbing them through first, he was at an advantage.
The council meetings had gotten increasingly more interesting since he was able to speak at them. Slowly, they were building up bonds with Yggdrasil, working hard to unite the Nine Realms and ensure foreign stability. However, there were still those (Thor) that held them back because of their (childish) insistence that they go to war.
Unfortunately, those efforts were not entirely futile and discussion of negotiation with Nornheim had somehow become less popular than rivaling them in battle. It was never good news to have tension within one’s own realm. Loki feared Asgard would not fare well from a rebellion.
Away from their opposing beliefs in strategy, Loki had found himself better acquainted with Thor than he’d ever been in the entirety of their lives. In all honesty, he still thought his brother lacked a great deal of common sense, but he had stopped being quite so rude to those around him. It was much easier for Loki to sit with him at meals without being chastised for his differences.
Of course, he did not say much, but perhaps that was because he did not have anything to say to Thor and his friends. Now, when he made an occasional interjection into their conversations, his comments were no longer taken with malice from Thor.
On the rare days that Loki spent in the library, doing research on whatever had sparked his fancy that day, he would receive a visit from Sigyn. Their conversations had become longer in length and somewhere along their line of brief communications, they had become friends. She would stop by and see him, or some days, she would be waiting for him at his table.
There, he would show her small bits of magic that made her eyes spark with awe and curiosity. Her face never revealed these emotions, but he enjoyed searching them out in her eyes like one would a long lost treasure.
In all this, his time with Darcy he treasured above all else.
They spent their time together looking for new mysteries to discover and researching the ones they already had. Their search for the tesseract was still a constant hobby. They had deduced that it was not on Muspelheim or Asgard. Loki had wanted to rule out Midgard as well, but Darcy insisted that they hadn’t checked anywhere on Midgard and they shouldn’t make that assumption yet. So, he considered Midgard lightly.
As for their suggested trip to Helheim, Loki continued to object strongly. Darcy argued they had no proof anything bad would happen. Loki argued they had no proof anything bad wouldn’t happen. They were at an impasse and they kept it that way.
Darcy very desperately wanted to see Jotunheim and Loki shared her curiosity, however, it was dangerous and forbidden by the Allfather for any Aesir to set foot on that realm until the rift between the Asgardians and the Jotunns was mended. Instead, they planned a trip to Nidavellir. If they were caught in the land of the dwarves, they would most likely be welcomed as guests rather than prisoners.
This excursion had taken a hundred translations, millions of books, and several trips to Asgard, but finally, they had a pretty good idea about which portals led to where. It was painstakingly torturous work, but there was an exact science to portal locations and within a few months, they were reasonably prepared.
Nevertheless, he worried about Darcy constantly and had only found one solution to her mortality.
Apples.
Golden ones to be precise. They were grown in the Asgardian wild lands where everyone but Odin and the orchard’s cultivator, Iðunn, were forbidden from entering. Those apples would grant immortality to their consumer and it was not uncommon for Asgardians nearing three thousand years of age to eat an apple. Loki did not know how exactly the fruit worked for he had never had the opportunity to study them.
No matter how they functioned, stealing one for Darcy was near impossible. He would either have to find the orchard and steal one, or beg the Allfather for permission to keep his friend alive. Neither option was appealing or completely possible. Which led him back to his first question: How would he keep Darcy alive?
It was a silly notion. Even the apples could not stop death. They could prevent aging, deterring fatigue and weakness, but they would not stop you from being killed.
Thor spoke loudly, bringing Loki’s attention back to the current situation.
“We cannot simply stand by while Nornheim threatens war on Vanaheim! We must act! Put them in their place!” he protested for the fourth time this meeting and Loki was tempted to steal Gungnir and smite his brother with it. Usually, he did not argue his brother directly; leaving the rest of the court to struggle with his arrogant sibling, but today was different. Today, he did not desire to watch them struggle. He only wished to leave and go see Darcy so they may continue their journey to Nidavellir.
Attacking Nornheim before they threatened the capital was a dangerous move and it would risk the lives of countless innocents.
He stood up from his chair to speak and everyone’s eyes came to him. That was one good thing about speaking rarely; everyone listened to you when you finally had something to say. He opened his mouth to state his point when a messenger burst into the room, his hair wild and messy. “My King, Odin Allfather, King of the Realm Eternal, there is a message from Nornheim.”
Odin glared at the boy grimly, gesturing for him to come forth and place the scroll into Odin’s hand. The Allfather opened it slowly, breaking the seal with ease and reading it as though it were a tax report. Sighing, he set it in front of him. “Nornheim has threatened the capital with war.”
Dead silence filled the conference hall.
And then…
“We will meet their demand!”
“What an outrage!”
“Perhaps we could still negotiate.”
Thor’s voice sounded above everyone else’s. “Nornheim must pay!”
Loki pursed his lips, letting his eyes fall upon the swarm of squabbling nobles and Lords. Finally, he set his gaze on the Allfather, who looked as though nothing had changed. He surely should have been expecting this. It was only a matter of days, but this timing was terrible for his plans with Darcy.
He grimaced at the table, waiting for them to realize that he was still standing to speak. Eventually, the rest of the council members noticed and the noise settled down. Loki gave a quick nod of thanks before speaking. “War with Nornheim is not guaranteed. We may be able to avoid a civil war with negotiation.” He could feel Thor’s anger radiate in waves along with the boiling refutes of a few lords. “However,” Loki continued solemnly, “I think that the matter would be more definite if settled by battle.”
The council was silent as Loki sat down, all of them awaited the Allfather’s word.
On cue, Odin stood, his regal gold robes glimmering in the afternoon sun. “We have not sought this skirmish, and it will not end with a simple treaty or contract. The Norns desire blood for their imagined grievances.” He paused to cast a wary eye over the table, gaze resting eerily on Thor. “This time tomorrow, troops will leave for Nornheim.”
The council was dismissed, but Loki and Thor remained, awaiting the Allfather’s words. He looked to them severely. “Thor, Loki?”
“Yes, Father?” they chimed in unison.
He reached out, grasping each of their shoulders. “On the morrow, you will both be off to fight in your first battle. Hopefully, it will not last longer than a fortnight to settle this ordeal. Be warned, you may take your first lives. It is not an easy burden to bear.”
Loki tilted his chin in a slight nod while Thor lifted his proudly. “I will not let any man of Asgard die without honor, Father.”
Odin looked like he had several things he’d like to say to his eldest son, but he refrained, releasing the boys. “Go. Rest. Prepare yourselves. Tomorrow is not a day you shall soon forget.”
With that, they were dismissed and the boys walked slowly out of the conference hall, waiting for the doors to shut before allowing their true emotions to show.
“YES!”
“By the gods…”
“Loki…this is what we—“
“—you—“
“—have been waiting for! To fight! To have honor!”
Loki nearly drew blood for how hard he was biting his tongue. Battle? It had been made quite clear to him by everyone on Asgard that he was not cut out for war. If he were to die, what would Darcy do?
Oh, by the Norns, Darcy!
If he died she would find a way to Helheim to kill him again! She was really angry the last time he almost died. He could not leave her. He had promises of adventures to keep and a life to live.
He was a Prince of Asgard, hence, he knew how to wield a blade and he would not let the fate of his realm rest with a few bitter High Lords.
Thor grinned, ear to ear, clapping his brother on the shoulder. “Come now, Loki! You have grown, have you not? I dare say you and I are even the same height now! What have you to fear?! Death? A bit of blood? We have nothing to lose!”
Loki was used to his brother’s desires for conflict, he’d been all but worshiping Mjolnir since the day he got it. But this…this was nothing but bloodlust. He wished to have the blood of men on his hands, and for what reason? To prove himself a man? To have honor? Glory?
He did not fear death. He did not desire it, but when his time came, he would accept it. Yet, taking the lives of men, many of whom are only farmers or merchants, fighting with outdated weapons and armor their fathers had worn before them…he was not thrilled. Not in the least.
Unable to hide his disgust, Loki straightened his posture. “I have nothing to fear. I have everything to lose.”
“Loki—“
“Rest well, Brother. I will meet you by the longships in the morning.” He said with definiteness, turning away from Thor, Jörmungandr at his heels.
Furiously, Loki stalked away, veering into the library and forcefully shoving books into a saddlebag he would be taking with him when he went to Darcy’s. She would help him devise a strategy to assist in the battle that would take place. The capital would need to win before too much Asgardian blood was shed.
He would not fail his duties as a prince. He would save Asgard and defend it all by himself if need be. But he would not kill anyone. He refused to kill anyone. He—
“Prince Loki?”
The dark haired prince froze midstride, just as he had magicked away his bag. “Lady Sigyn.”
She was beautiful. Of course, Loki thought she looked magnificent no matter the day. Her hair was pinned back from her face, the almost white tresses skirting over her shoulders. “I heard about the message from Nornheim.”
“Has word spread so quickly?” he asked politely, barely containing his nerves. He needed to go settle this matter. He needed to plan and devise a method to insure the survival of as many men possible and he could not do so without Darcy.
Sigyn shook her head, turning away. “No…I was listening for it. You mentioned before that you were expecting a declaration from Nornheim any day.”
“I was.”
There was a short silence that seemed to stretch for days before the young lady spoke again. “I wish you the best of luck.”
“I—“
“And…” Sigyn continued, her cheeks pink as she played with something in her hands. Warily, she approached him. “I would like you to carry a token. My token, that is.”
Loki imagined that, had he not been wearing his armor, his heart would have hammered straight from his chest. A token? It was a sure sign of courtship if a man were to wear a possession of his lady’s into combat. That way, if he were to die, those who found his body would know who his heart belonged to.
“Lady Sigyn, I would be honored.” He said with as much sincerity as he could muster. Out of all the time he spent with her, he never would have imagined that she would hold such feelings of affection towards him. Why would she want him when she could have Fandral or Thor? They often spoke of her beauty and poise. Sure he was a prince, but only the second one. Why have him when she could have the eldest?
Whatever the reason, he did not wish to question his good fortune much longer. Sigyn blushed and from her hands procured a silver chain with a small, delicate key hanging off it. She reached around his neck to clasp the necklace. “This is the key to a box that holds everything dear to me. I keep it under my bed and this is the only key. Come back, and it will not be lost to me.”
Loki could feel the heat in his cheeks, but it was overcome by the softness in his heart. Did she truly have such faith in him that he would return? Her hands had long since clasped the necklace, but they lingered on the back of his neck and for the first time, he noticed how close they were.
“I promise, Sigyn, I will return it to you. Personally.” He clarified, suddenly unsure of what to do with his hands. Should he embrace her, as he does Darcy? Carefully, he placed a hand on her back, aware that she was taller than Darcy, and her cheek brushed over his when she tightened her arms around him.
She whispered softly, as if afraid she may be too loud. “I’ve never had a friend like you Loki.”
“A sorcerer?” he inquired, throat thick.
She drew away from their hug and there was moisture in her eyes. “No. You…care for me. Not as someone to court or to show. You may be the Prince of Lies, but Loki, no one has ever been more honest with me than you.”
It was the most forward thing she had ever said to him and Loki nearly took an arrow in his knee before his first fray. “I do care for you, Sigyn.” He said softly, staring down into her sharp blue eyes, diluted from their usual intensity by her tears.
Until this moment, Loki had not realized the tenderness he held in him for Lady Sigyn. Her cheeks shone in the orangey glow of the sun off the books. In their close proximity, Loki had no question of what to do next. If Sigyn were to give him a parting gift, he would give her one as well.
With her fingers resting on his shoulder and one of his palms at the small of her back, he lifted a hand to her face, brushing a tear from one of her high cheekbones. With every means of delicacy imaginable, he tilted his head to brush Sigyn’s lips with his.
He backed away, looking down at her, checking to see if he had done something wrong or out of place. But there was only a pink hue to her cheeks and a warm glimmer in her eyes. “Return my Prince, or I shall miss that key.”
“Indeed.” He smiled, taking her hand and kissing that as well before turning on his heel and strutting away with new purpose. Now he truly did have everything to lose. Asgard needed him, and he would gladly do his part as prince. But now, he must also return for Sigyn. She needed him and he would not have her weep over his death.
Just as Loki reached the stables a thought occurred to him.
He had kissed a lady.
He brought a palm to his forehead, unbelieving. He frantically looked down at Jörmungandr. “I kissed a lady.” He said blatantly.
The snake looked up at him happily, the tip of his tail moving from side to side.
“Why do you look so enthused about this!? That was so very, very improper of me! How could I even…that was out of turn! We are not even courting! I am a mess, Jörmungandr! An absolute mess!”
“My dear, I do not believe you are well suited for war if it has not even started yet and you are going insane.” A light voice chided to him.
“Mother.” Loki turned on his heel, combing back his hair. “I…must admit I have done –“
“You have kissed the Lady Sigyn? After she gave you a token? Well, it only seems appropriate, does it not?” she said approaching her son with a grin on her pretty lips.
“You are not upset by my actions?” Loki inquired, brows coming together.
She chuckled, stroking the side of his face with a gentle hand. “No, Darling. I am not.”
“How did you find out so fast?”
Frigga gave a slight shrug. “She came to me this morning and asked if I thought it appropriate for her to grant you her token. I told her yes. And when my son is outside the palace, telling his pet snake about kissing a fair maiden he is not yet courting…well…forgive me for drawing conclusions.”
Loki quickly recovered from his initial shock. “There is nothing to forgive.”
She smiled easily, drawing him into a hug. “In case I do not see you tomorrow, I love you, Loki. You will do fine in battle.”
He returned her embrace, more tightly than he would have in the past. “I will return home Mother.”
“You will. I am sure of it.” She sighed. “Now, go on. You have matters that need tending to, do you not?”
Loki blinked blankly then remembered his purpose for being out by the stables. Darcy. “Right. Good day, Mother.”
With that, he strode away, Jörmungandr at his side and called for Hel.
They rode so fast, Loki feared he’d lost his hair to the wind by the time they reached the cave. “Hel, I will be back in the morning. It is essential that I plan tonight with Darcy. She will not be pleased we are missing out on her training, but we shall make do.” He assured his horse before wiggling into the cave and teleporting to Midgard.
There, he quickly climbed from under Darcy’s bed, dumping the books on her floor and rubbing an unphased Fenrir’s ears.
War.
There was a great deal to think about when planning for a war.
The general of the Asgardian’s elite army, the Einherjar, was typically assigned by the Allfather and accepted guidance from both the king and the princes. Loki was relying on the acceptance of his word to get them through this skirmish.
As horrific as it was, many of the men on Asgard were so anxious for a chance to prove themselves, the loss of men meant very little to them. They were willing to kill to have their name praised once during a toast at a celebratory feast.
The challenge of this war was not to win. The capital would strike out the Norns before the day was up. Of this he was sure.
However, winning and relenting was another thing.
Asgard had not fought a war since Odin’s feat with the Frost Giants. Because of this pitiful deprivation of violence, even after the generals will have forfeited and raised their flags, the men fighting will not be so eager to put down their weapons. Loki sought a strategy that would end the skirmish before the true heat of battle set in and more lives were lost. The greater the discrepancies in casualties between the provinces, the more difficult coming to terms on a peace treaty could be.
The solution to this, Loki hoped, would rest in the journals of famous war heroes. He should have thought better of that. Asgardian champions were always honored, not for their cunning in battle, but rather their strength and the collection of corpses at their feet.
Bitterly, Loki slammed shut a copy of his grandfather Bor’s journal. All it held was the best ways to defeat Dark Elves and a short guide on surviving the strength of the Kursed. It was interesting, and for a moment he was drawn to Bor’s musings on the Dark Elves’ weapons. Apparently, a stab from one could turn a man’s innards as dark as night, poisoning him from the inside out. Perhaps he should do more research on it.
Sighing, he buried his face in Fenrir’s shoulder, wishing Darcy was there to give him ideas.
No sooner had he wished it then Darcy slammed through her bedroom door, hair frazzled and knees stained green. Her eyes met his, and her frantic demeanor became downright panicked. “Loki! Hide! Quick!”
He turned him and Jörmungandr invisible just as a boy appeared in the doorway. He was taller than Darcy with a wide crooked smile and something that looked like mischief brewing in his eyes.
Loki would know, he was a Prince of such things. And because of this, he was positive there was only one male allowed to make mischief in Darcy’s room, and that was him.