Frank Wears Armor
Loki was appalled.
Typically, he was not quite so jarred by such things as people entering Darcy’s room. But this was different. This was A Boy.
“It’s cool,” the Boy said, glancing around Darcy’s room. “Wow, you have a lot of books. No wonder you’re so smart.”
Smart. Loki scoffed, crossing his invisible arms. Darcy was a great deal more than smart. This Boy should use accurate vocabulary if he was to describe Darcy. He was an idiot. An Idiot Boy. Yes, that would be his name from now on: Idiot Boy. It had a pleasant ring to it.
She shrugged a bit and Loki did not think he ever saw Darcy look so flustered.
Oh gods. Darcy favored him!
He would goad her about it later. He could taste the revenge. It was quite sweet.
“I guess I’m a genius sometimes.” Darcy sniffed, sitting down on her bed and pulling off her cleats, giving Fenrir a pat on the head.
“Is that Fen? You talk about him a lot,” said Idiot Boy and Loki rolled his eyes. Surely Darcy could choose someone who was not so thick. Really. She needed someone who was intelligent who could keep up with her quick tongue. And someone who had a lot of patience and could tolerate question after question after question…
“Yeah. This is Fenrir. He’s a weirdo sometimes.” Darcy commented as Idiot Boy paced the room, admiring the stacks of textbooks that littered the floor and surfaces of Darcy’s preferred living space.
“Calculus? Physics? Biology? The Study of Psychology? Have you read all these?” he asked, eyes skirting the room.
Darcy stood, tracing her finger over the different quadrants of the room. “This corner is full of stuff I’ve read. That one is the stuff I reference when I need prior knowledge that I don’t have yet. And that quadrant is the stuff I haven’t read. I need that other corner for stuff that isn’t books.”
“Do you—“
“I read a lot. I don’t want to talk about it. Do you want to watch a movie or something? Or do you want to go outside? Or play monopoly? I don’t really care, just let’s not talk about the books. And don’t read any of them! It’s dangerous.” She said, lifting her chin and Loki liked how her hair was flying free from her braid in places.
Obviously, this idiot boy Darcy fancied thought this was a joke. Really, he was not worthy of her. “Alright, Lewis, a movie is cool. Mind if I sit down?”
Darcy gestured to her bed. “Sure.”
He watched in bitter resentment as Idiot Boy sat on Loki’s side of the bed. Of course, it wasn’t really his side of the bed…it was Darcy’s bed…nonetheless, that was his side of Darcy’s bed and he did not appreciate some ridiculous mortal boy flirting with Darcy in that particular spot. He should flirt with her elsewhere. Somewhere more appropriate than her bed.
Loki could see it now as Darcy got out her DVD player and they began watching a movie called 300. The boy pet Fenrir and talked to her throughout the beginning of the film. Loki could hardly focus his attention on reading his books in the floor and Darcy kept sending nervous looks in his general direction.
“Nick, this is a terrible movie.” Darcy commented, “They’re all just killing each other.”
“Yeah. It’s a dude movie. People kill each other in dude movies. That’s how it goes.” He teased, elbowing her side.
Loki grimaced. He usually elbowed Darcy. Who was this Idiot Boy, to think that he could just…take his place? No! He would not!
Darcy shot a look at the closet and then back at the screen, a slight blush on her cheeks. “That’s stupid. It’s not just a boy movie. It’s a movie. You don’t have to put a gender on it.” She said, elbowing him back.
Idiot Boy grinned. “Well, do you want to do something else?”
“Like what? Your mom should be here any minute. We could…uh what are you doing?” she asked as the Idiot Boy took her hand.
He shut the DVD player, “I like you Darcy. I know you’re eleven and I’m twelve, but I still like you.”
“Oh…cool. You’re okay I guess.” She said, and Loki could sense her tease, but it was weak. Her discomfort was evident.
But Idiot Boy continued his terrible attempts at wooing her. “So…you wanna do something else?”
Darcy seemed to be in the midst of great indecision. Loki swore to himself, if Idiot Boy tried anything Darcy did not consent to, he would destroy him with every spell he knew.
“Yeah. We could—“
Loki swiftly looked away as Darcy’s words were cut off by Idiot Boy’s lips. Oh, By Odin’s Beard! This is impossible! Darcy was only eleven and she was kissing boys! And idiot boys at that! Should he attack him? Darcy didn’t look like she was enjoying it all that much. Or was she?
Loki sneaked a peek at the two and had the urge to laugh. Darcy’s eyes were wide open and glaring in his general direction with menace while Idiot Boy’s were squeezed shut. He cast a silencing spell on himself so he could release the hysterias that strained his chest as Darcy pushed the boy away.
“Dude what the heck?!” she exclaimed, standing up and dramatically making gagging noises. “You licked my mouth!”
“What’s wrong?” he asked, brushing his stupid blonde hair away from his face. Blonde hair? Did Darcy like blonde hair?
She made a face at the boy sitting on the edge of her bed. “You’re not just supposed to do that to people!”
“What?” Idiot Boy asked dully, “I thought you said you liked me too.”
“Yeah, but I don’t like you when you lick my tongue!” she emphasized, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
Loki feared falling to the ground for how hard he was laughing. Perhaps he should not find such amusement in Idiot Boy’s discomfort and embarrassment. He must truly be terrible at kissing if this was Darcy’s reaction. She tended to be fairly honest with her feelings unlike Sigyn.
Unlike Sigyn…
He stopped laughing, thinking back to his kiss with her. What if he had been a terrible kisser? What if she hated it? He had walked away rather fast…had he missed the disgust? He did not know any proper technique for kissing women! What if he was as awful as this idiot boy whose cheeks now held semblance to the color of Thor’s cape?
“That’s how you kiss people!” he defended and Loki was convinced that this boy had not the slightest idea or experience with kissing people. Just to make matters worse for the Idiot Boy, Loki cast a quick, harmless spell that provoked some rather unpleasant itches in some hilariously inconvenient places. Under normal circumstances he would not stretch so low as to mess with Idiot Midgardian Boys. But this one deserved it. His idiocy far exceeded the rest.
“Well, why would you want to kiss me anyways? I mean, there are probably a lot better kissers. And don’t people usually kiss before they interact coitally? We aren’t even old enough to procreate! Well, you are. Male sperm development begins when you hit puberty. I’m guessing you have because you’re tall. But, everyone’s taller than me. But I can’t make babies yet! I haven’t started menstruating! Why would you even want to kiss me!?”
Loki’s knees buckled and his ribs were beginning to ache from laughter. Darcy’s logic was so very…Darcy. Perhaps she had not read the part in the book he gave her about the pleasures of intimacy.
Idiot Boy was squirming like his pants were on fire and Loki applauded himself. Now what would Darcy think of him? Hm? Certainly not that he was a blonde handsome person that she should let kiss her…in her room. Idiot Boy held up his hands, sweat a light sheen on his face. “Darcy, I don’t want to...do...that.... God, I just want to kiss you.”
“Yeah, but why?” she asked again, stomping her foot and crossing her arms like she was demanding he confess to some major crime.
“I don’t know! Because I like you! You’re smart! I thought it would be fun! I don’t know.” He said, looking up at the ceiling, his ears red. Loki admired how Idiot boy had not done anything about the itching. Perhaps he should make it a little less bearable.“I thought you could…like…be my girlfriend.”
Girlfriend.
What?
Darcy was too young to be anyone’s girlfriend. She was his friend and this Idiot Boy needed to get his facts straight. Loki waved his hand aggressively and watched smugly as Idiot Boy struggled to keep from scratching his entire body.
“Oh,” Darcy said, tapping her chin. “I guess I didn’t think about that.”
They sat in silence for a few seconds, and Loki looked down at his book about the battle strategies of his Grandfather, Bor. In those days, he could have simply waved some magic on Midgard and he would be worshipped as a god. Alas, now it would cause civic unrest.
Idiot Boy’s hand twitched towards his most intense itch and Loki nearly sang with satisfaction.
“I guess we—“
“Nick! Your mother is here!” shouted Darcy’s mother from the main floor.
Immediately Darcy leapt up. “Oh, would you look at that. I’ll see you at practice, bye Benedict!” she said, pushing him from her room as quickly as possible, her cheeks flaming red.
Loki waited till Darcy slammed her door shut and pressed her back up against it to turn himself visible, a gloating look on his face. He decided to wait a few minutes to remove the spell from Idiot Boy.
“Don’t you dare say anything,” Darcy warned.
Too late.
“You love him.”
“Loki…”
“You are in love.”
“Loki…seriously, no. Gross. Stop.”
“Darcy and Idiot Boy, sitting in a tree…”
“Loki! His name is Nick!”
“First comes love, then comes marriage, then comes a baby in a baby carriage,” he mocked her, sitting down in his rightful place on her bed.
“Agh!” Darcy screamed, flopping into her pillows. “That was so awkward!”
“Do you like-like him?” Loki asked airily, knowing full well he had a war to discuss. Teasing her was just so much more fun.
“Shut up,” she grumbled and Loki saw the back of her neck turn bright pink.
“You do! How quaint. Shall I have my helmet polished for the wedding now or later?”
“Loki, I’m going to kill you,” she sighed, sitting up at last. “I don’t like him. He’s my friend.”
“He desires courtship with you,” Loki pointed out with a smirk. “Your children would be adorable.”
“I don’t want to be his girlfriend. Ashley can be his girlfriend and he can lick her mouth. But not mine,” she stated, sitting back against her headboard. “He’s bad at math.”
Loki laughed and Darcy punched his arm, picking up one of the books he’d brought with him. “Are we studying battle strategies for a reason? How’s Nornheim?”
Immediately, he ceased his hysterias. “I have grave news, Darcy.”
“What?” she asked, turning to the first page of a rather thick leather bound book. “This looks interesting. And it’s written in—“
“Darcy, I am going to war,” he blurted out, hoping she acknowledged the depth of his words.
She raised her brows. “Huh. I’m not surprised. When do we leave?”
“Tomorrow morn—“
He stopped speaking. Did she say ‘we’? As in, the two of them?
“Morning, huh? We had better get working if we’re going to beat the Norns without killing off an entire province. Defeating all of them would not make the Lords happy and there would be even more unrest in Asgard—“
“Darcy, you are not coming with me,” he declared in the most formal tone he could manage.
She turned the page, sighing nonchalantly. “Yeah I am.”
“No, you are not,” he said again, this time, with some venom.
Darcy looked up at him and he saw something flash in her blue eyes that he had never seen directed at him. “Yeah. I am,” she said again.
“No.” His voice was a whisper, but a princely one. Darcy would not die in a war if he could stop her.
She stood from her bed anger setting in her features. “If I don’t go, then you don’t go.”
“Darcy, that is absurd. I am a Prince of Asgard, it is my duty.”
“Oh yeah?” She snorted, sizing him up as he got to his feet, like she was getting ready to challenge him to a duel. “Well, I’m Darcy Lewis, your friend. It’s my duty to make sure you don’t die.”
Loki squared his shoulders, glaring down at the short mortal girl who returned his rage. “You. Will. Not. Go.” He commanded through gritted teeth. Did she not know the horrors of war? Of murder? Of killing?
“I’m going to protect you,” she said defiantly and Loki scoffed, not breaking away from their icy staring contest.
“You? Protect me? Darcy, you can hardly fight,” he growled, hoping to deter her from her dangerous notions.
Her eyes flashed again and she brought up her hand to poke him in the center of his chest. “Listen here, Horny. I dragged your half-dead butt through Muspelheim when you couldn’t even walk. If I hadn’t been there, you would have died. I am not letting you go without me.”
“Or what?” Loki challenged, trying not to take offense to her ‘Horny’ remark. “You cannot open the portal by yourself. You would not be able to follow me. What have I to fear?”
Darcy crossed her arms. “I’ll make you sleep on the floor.”
“A price I am willing to pay,” he sassed back, thinking that he may actually sleep better without her constant wriggling.
“You have to let me come with you!” she insisted, and her eyes became dewy with rising tears. “I have to be there! Otherwise I’ll be stuck here, wondering if you’re going to live or die or...whatever! What if you need help and there is no one there for you!? You can’t just…you can’t make me stay here, Loki!” She protested, punching him in the arm again.
He would admit, she had gotten stronger, but her punches were still weaker than an Asgardian’s. “No Darcy! If you go you will die!”
“You don’t know that!” she argued, the fateful tear slipping down her cheek.
“I know that it is a possibility,” he said as decisively and as softly as possible. He had not seen Darcy cry before and it worried him.
“Please, Loki? You’re my best friend.” She sniffed, looking up at him with open, pleading, watery eyes.
He frowned at her, hastily attempting to settle his inner turmoil. On one hand, he would not have Darcy die. If she went to war with him and they did not have a suitable enough plan, she would die. On the other hand, if she kept looking at him with those eyes accompanied by that voice…
“Darcy…”
“Please, Loki?” she said again tenderly, wrapping her arms around his middle while her shoulders gave a little tremble.
He had never truly denied her anything before and he was finding it extremely difficult. Sighing, he held her close, patting her back soothingly. “If I say yes, will you promise me you will not purposefully seek out danger?”
She nodded against his chest.
“Promise me.” He told her, gently pushing her shoulders back.
Darcy’s blue eyes were rimmed red, but she straightened her posture and quirked a smile up at him. “I promise.”
They linked pinkies in solemn agreement.
***
The remainder of that evening, after Darcy took a shower, ate dinner, and brought him up some pizza rolls, they studied battle strategy.
If he thought politics and meetings were tedious, this was torture. Asgardian generals all seemed to have strategies for killing off different races, but none for politically surviving a civil war. Darcy suggested they take hints from American History, but he didn’t like those ideas either. The Americans had done a terrible job of stabilizing their own government during their own Civil War.
About two hours of skimming and searching and reading, Darcy threw down an Asgardian book. “This is so stupid. We need to keep them alive, not start Total War!”
Loki sighed in agreement, picking up another book. “I think we should look somewhere other than Asgardian texts. Or Midgardian ones for that matter…”
Darcy shook her head, standing up to pace her floor, her toe occasionally bumping Jörmungandr’s tail. “No…there’s this book. I remember my History teacher was telling me about it because I was asking her questions about China.” She snapped her fingers, perking up and pointing at Fenrir. “The Art of War, by Sun Tzu.”
He grimaced and conjured a copy of the book she mentioned, cracking it open to the first page. He read bits of it, Darcy leering over his shoulder in attempt to soak up knowledge. Out of all the things they’d read that evening, it was proving to be the most informative as well as strategy went.
In fact, he’d venture to say it was almost helpful .
“’Supreme excellence consists of breaking the enemy's resistance without fighting.’” Darcy read the Chinese text aloud in English. “What do you think?”
Rubbing his eyes, Loki stood, thinking over what they had read. Sun Tzu was a well-seasoned warrior and he knew his way around the government as well as he did the battle field. His strategies for destructive domination were good, but his theoretical approaches on battle did more to strengthen Loki’s thoughts on Nornheim.
“I think,” he began, reaching into his coat and pulling out his notebook, “we should use that. We need to break their resistance without fighting.”
“Great.” Darcy agreed, flopping back onto the pillows. “How?”
With a quick pen, he began literally dissecting different spells, taking their roots and meanings, tossing around the phrases. “Magic, of course.”
***
He could not say he slept well that night.
Not only was Darcy especially squirmy, Jörmungandr and Fenrir were also restless. Just as he began to nod off, Darcy set out to suffocate him with her body. Irritated and tired, he first thought he could fight her back by spreading out his limbs and conquering the space as she sometimes did.
This failed. He could not pry himself out of her hold to move his arms. So, instead, he attempted to relax and ignore Fenrir’s dreaming whines and Jörmungandr’s insistent slithers over his back and eventually found rest.
Not an hour later, he felt Darcy get up and stretch. He expected her to poke him awake like she usually did, slowly and painfully bringing him from sweet slumber to the real world. But today, she didn’t. She sat up with her back against the headboard and yawned. Fenrir awoke as well, stepping on and over Loki’s body to sit on Darcy’s legs.
“I’ve never been to war, Fenrir.” She whispered to the dog. “What if…what if you and Frank get into trouble while we’re there? Or Frank eats all of the Norns and Asgard gets in bigger trouble?”
Loki nearly groaned. She wanted to bring the animals as well? Would he just set aside all his duties to defend the mortals? Was Jörmungandr mortal? He must find out. It would be devastating if all his friends died before him.
“Fenrir? What if our plan doesn’t work?” she was silent for another second. “Do you think Asgard will be okay? And Loki? What if everyone wants to kill him because he’s the prince?”
Loki cracked open his eyes just a bit to see Darcy softly rubbing Fenrir’s ears while he quietly whined and licked her nose. At this point, Loki was positive he had not made a wise decision by telling Darcy she could go. How dull could he be? She was mortal! If she went missing, the Midgardians would wonder where she had gone off to. And if she died…
He could not even think about it.
Snuggling into his pillow, he tried to abandon thought for just a few moments and enjoy the feel of Jörmungandr’s cool scales against his arm. Eventually, Darcy got up and began her morning rituals of opening the blinds and stretching her muscles. After a few moments, the sound of pages being turned filled the room.
Deciding, at last, it was time to begin the day, Loki sat up, rubbing his eyes.
“Good morning.” Darcy whispered, gently flipping through a book on herbs from Vanaheim.
“Morning.” He replied, sitting up and pulling his feet out of the bed. Sigyn’s key tapped his chest and dinged lightly in the peaceful morn.
Darcy glanced over at him, standing to curiously take the key in hand. “What’s this?”
He sighed, closing his eyes and falling back on the covers. “A key.”
“Is it Sigyn’s?” she asked, her tone teasing.
How could she guess that so fast? “Why would you even make that assumption?”
Darcy smirked at him, a hand on her hip, her hair a wild mess atop her head. “Her name is on the side of it.”
Loki examined the key, and sure enough, Sigyn’s name was engraved on the side. “Ah. So it is.”
“She gave you a token?” Darcy giggled, but it was early enough so she did not chide her silly little rhymes at him.
He rolled his eyes. “I’m going to war, Darcy. It is expected.”
“Oh, whatever. You’re totally happy about it,” she quipped, waking Jörmungandr with a kiss on his scaly head.
He smiled, his grogginess beginning to fade away. He would miss so much about Darcy if she were to die. Moments like these when they fell into easy pace with the other. When she sat in front of him without question for him to brush out the knots in her hair and they talked about interesting things they learned. Darcy would ask him questions about things she didn’t understand and Loki would ask her questions about Midgard. He felt more like himself when he was with Darcy. Freer. Like he didn’t have to be in competition with Thor or put up with politics. He only had to be sharp with his tongue to counter Darcy’s friendly snark.
Once her hair was combed and pulled back into a tight bun, she stood, rubbing her brow. “So, I was thinking. We’re going to go to war, right?”
“No. We’re going to go have tea with the Allfather after riding a griffin to Muspelheim,” he said, beginning to neaten his own black locks.
“Haha, very funny. You know what I mean,” she sighed. “I was just wondering if I should have armor? I don’t know. You have armor, and everyone else will have armor and stuff…”
Loki deadpanned. How could he not have thought of this? Something as simple as armor. “Of course. You will most certainly be needing it.” He assured, pushing back his hair one last time before standing up.
Darcy’s smile lit up the room. “Awesome! Alright. I was thinking I could have, like, some wicked awesome silver and purple colors and awesome metal and…or you know, you could decide.”
He gave her a small grin. “It will be your armor, Darcy. You should like how it looks. But, so far, you’ve only trained for quick combat. You should be able to move around. But, the material must also be strong enough to withstand the slice of a blade.”
Darcy waited patiently as he cast a few spells, carefully creating her armor. Not that he was biased, but he found that leather was extremely useful in protection if the wearer intended to be flexible in their attacks. So long as Darcy did not get hit often, it would keep her safe. However, her armor could not be entirely leather, that would not protect against flying arrows and unsuspected blades. He also conjured armored plates for her wrist guards, chest and head. A thin mail wove between the layers of her outfit as an added precaution.
The armor was mainly black, but there were strips of purple fabric peeking between. It was not a common color on Asgard so he would easily be able to identify her if need be. The pants and books were sturdy but they clung to her so she would not trip during battle. The collar of her short coat was stiff so if a blade came down against her neck, it would meet some resistance. Silver plates of armor wrapped around her wrists, secured her chest and adorned her head.
The helmet he debated for a while. No doubt she would need one, but deciding what symbol it should hold was another thing. Wings stood for power and boldness. He would never question Darcy’s boldness. Yet, it did not match her style of fighting. Also, they were on Thor’s helm and Darcy was his friend, not Thor’s. It just wouldn’t seem right to acquaint them like that.
She could have horns, like him, but they were his symbol. Honestly, he was confused by his own helm. Horns stood for offense and challenge. Yes, he was always looking for a challenge, but not competitively and most certainly not in combat. Perhaps the council’s decision was made based on the power he displayed on that day. He was a challenge to his opponents.
Either way, horns like his would be ill suited. She was not nearly elusive enough to share his symbol.
“What’s taking so long?” she pestered, poking him in the belly.
He batted her hand away. “I’m trying to decide what should go on your helm.”
“You mean animal stuff?” she asked, tapping the metal on her head.
He shook his head exasperatedly. Only Darcy would call it that… “Yes. Only, I can’t decide what yours should be. What do you think?”
“Cat ears.” She answered immediately.
“Cat ears?”
“Cat ears.”
“Darcy, I do not think that—“
She held up a hand, “Nope. I’ve decided, I want cat ears. You can’t change my mind.”
“But Darcy—“
“Bup bup bup, nope,” she said, pressing her pointer finger to his lips. “Cat ears.”
Relenting, Loki conjured her silver helmet with two pointed feline ears atop her head. She immediately ran to the mirror and touched the face guards. “Wow. This looks fabulous. Loki, you’re amazing.”
“I know. Many have said so before.” He yawned, gracelessly throwing his body back down on her bed. He had to admit, Darcy did look rather nice in her armor. Nonetheless, he feared for her.
“What should we do for breakfast?” Darcy asked as Loki conjured her swords. She belted them to her sides, pacing back and forth the room. “I mean, we’re going to war, so should we, like, eat a big breakfast?”
Loki shook his head, “I will pack snacks in Hel’s saddlebag for later. Most warriors do not eat before battle. Hunger makes them less lethargic and they fight better because of it.”
Darcy thought about that for a moment, then shrugged. “Well, I guess that makes sense. Let’s run over the plan one more time before we go. Then you can conjure armor for Fenrir and Frank and then you can put yours on. Do you think we can take any books with us? And…Loki! Get out of bed!”
***
About thirty minutes later, Loki had made armor for the two animals, both of which were biting at their shiny new outfits while Darcy told them how remarkable they looked. Loki was dressed in his black armor that he had made new for adventuring purposes. He preferred not to use his ceremonial armor for fighting as Thor did. Sure, it had more grandeur, but he could not move as freely in it.
Darcy rubbed her brow as they discussed the last details of their plan. “I don’t know, Loki. Isn’t that part a little…”
“What?” he challenged.
“Risky? We don’t know if we—“
“—I—“
“—we can actually get through.” She finished, ignoring his interference.
“Darcy, do you trust me?” he asked, placing his hands on her shoulders.
She smirked, “No.”
“I’m hurt.” He rolled his eyes, “You will have to trust me Darcy. It will take effort, but Sun Tzu is right. We must attack before the battle has even started.”
Darcy grimaced, shifting from foot to foot. She still did not like their agreement, yet he could see she was going to agree. “Fine. Just don’t do anything stupid.”
“Me? Really Darcy. I’ve never done anything that could be classified as stupid,” he said, attempting to move her thoughts away from that of their plans.
“One word, Loki: Microwave.”
He crossed his arms defiantly. “How was I supposed to know that would happen?”
“I don’t know. But it was pretty stupid,” she teased, a smile spreading across her face.
“I fixed it, didn’t I?”
“Quit stalling, Loki, and cast my double and let’s go already,” she reminded him, sliding under her bed, followed closely by Fenrir.
That was the first phase of their plan. Loki would cast Darcy a corporeal double that would stay in her room and speak with her parents if necessary. He had worked very hard on this particular spell. Casting doppelgangers wasn’t especially taxing anymore, but he could not keep his focus on her double when his attentions were needed elsewhere. With a very specifically worded spell, however, the copy of Darcy would do whatever necessary to insure Darcy was not found out whilst using very little of Loki’s magic.
Carefully he cast the spell and a projection of Darcy in her purple pajamas appeared, slowly turning into a solid form. The double smiled at him, then crawled under her covers.
The real Darcy peeked out from under the bed, “Awesome. Come on, Loki. We have a longship to catch.”
“Oh yes, we had best not be late for manslaughter,” he grumbled, moving under the bed to grip her hand and take them to Asgard.
***
Sif gave her freshly sharpened blade one last thorough once over with a whetstone before fitting it into the sheath on her hip. Yesterday, Thor had come to her, Fandral, Volstagg and Hogun with news of the war and asked that they accompany him. Immediately they agreed, eager to gain the title of warriors.
But Sif had to admit, the only one who was possibly anticipating the battle more than herself was Thor. Finally, this was the opportunity to prove her worth. To prove that she was not simply a lady playing with a knife. She was a warrior, as good as any man.
After tying her hair back into a tight bun and adjusting her armor, she left her chambers in search of Thor. Oddly enough, he was not in the dining hall, nor at the armory, training fields, or even his chambers. None of their friends had seen him on that morning either.
She was just about to go to the kitchens when a small, quiet voice of a lady chided to her. “Are you looking for Prince Thor, Lady Sif?”
She grimaced at the title, stopping in her tracks. She was not a lady and she would not speak like a lady either. “Yes,” she very nearly growled.
Soft footsteps echoes through the hall and Sif reluctantly turned to the little lady that had interrupted her search. “Lady Sigyn.”
The blonde haired girl was quickly becoming a suitor’s dream. She had a well-regarded family, a pretty face, and the truest behaviors of a lady. But unlike most, she was not gloating, or cruel, or conniving in any way. She had never flaunted her position or the power her looks and wealth gave her. Fandral often gloated about the kisses he was able to steal from her (though everyone was convinced he spoke lies), Thor would sometimes say she was quite beautiful, even Hogun was caught staring after her on occasion. The only reason Volstagg did not pine after her is because he fancied another for her skills in the kitchen rather than her looks.
But the lady was never anything but refined politeness. It made hating her quite difficult.
Sif was not jealous. Of course, she would never be jealous of a weak little girl, whom, without her beauty, would be nothing. No. It did not matter to her that she could win the favor of Thor with a simple flick of her blonde hair. Not at all.
Because Sif was clearly not envious of Sigyn, she could see the finer points of this lady.
Sigyn did not seem the least bit interested in the warriors. She did not take interest in Thor or even Fandral. Sif had seen her, more than once, walking a bit too excitedly for a lady’s standards into the library. And everyone knew who spent the majority of their time there….
“I saw Prince Thor this morning in the library. He wondered if you or the others may be in search of him.” Sigyn said in that even, steady toned voice that gave nothing away except, perhaps, maybe the barest trace of sweetness.
Sif restrained a snigger. “Thor? In the library? You surely jest?”
“I’m afraid not.” Sigyn smiled, folding her hands in front of her and continuing her easy walk forwards. When she passed, her near white-blonde hair left the smell of honey and flowers in the air.
Sif grit her teeth, sure that she smelled a little like sweat, leather, and metal. Annoyed, Sif grumbled a thanks turning to stomp in the most unlady-like fashion towards the library.
“And Sif?” Sigyn called, her voice ringing like bells.
“What?”
Sigyn offered a more sincere smile that seemed to mock Sif to the very bone. “Good luck today and may your blade win you victory.”
Sif felt blood in her cheeks, whether from anger or embarrassment she did not know. Most ladies chastised her, glared at her in disgust even. But here was Sigyn, the most esteemed lady of them all, wishing her good luck. Surely she could manage a thanks.
Bowing slightly, Sif muttered a quick ‘thank you’ and hurried away.
Once in the library she was greeted by a lady in a yellow dress, pouring over a book. She greeted Sif with kind eyes and a stiff smile. Walking along the shelves, Sif checked the sections she figured Thor would most likely be in like strategy, history of battle, war mastery and so on. But he wasn’t there.
After poking around a bit more, Sif, on mere whim, went to Loki’s usual spot.
Sif couldn’t say she spent much time keeping track of what Loki did. She wasn’t sure anyone would be cursed with that task. But she did know a few things about him. Like how he spent less time in the library than he used to and more time out of the palace. From what word was getting around, he was quite apt at politics and even managed to help the court in a number of domestic issues.
This corner of the library reserved the title of “Loki’s Corner” not because of how often he used it in the past, but rather the likeness it held to him. The curtains on the window were green and the reflection of the sun off the wood table was almost gold. The section was not especially easy to find for a newcomer entering the library and the books in that area held so many different types of magical spells and languages it made Sif dizzy.
It surprised her to see Thor there, a book propped up in his lap, staring out the window. He jumped at her presence. “Sif.”
“Thor.” She greeted, walking to sit in the chair across from him while he closed the book. It was in some runic language she identified as Dark Elven. “Reading about magic.”
He grimaced, shaking his head. “I cannot read it. There are tricks to divulging the secrets of the text that most Aesir with the allspeak do not attempt throughout their lives.”
Sif nodded, watching her friend from across the table, waiting for him to speak. “How did you know where I was?”
“I encountered Lady Sigyn in the corridor. She told me.” Sif shrugged, taking out her blade to be assured of its sharpness once more.
Thor adorned a look of distaste. “She seemed almost disappointed to find me here. I asked her why she would be looking in the sorcerer’s section and she said she thought Loki might be reading.”
Sigyn raised a brow. “Jealous of Loki?”
Thor snorted, “Never.” He watched something out the window, remaining silent for a long time. “She did not offer me a token. A few have, but I did not accept them.”
Sif stowed her sword with a clang. “You fancy her then?”
He shrugged. “I’m not sure. At first, yes. She is beautiful. But in the brief times we have spoken, she does not take interest in the same things I do. Her family is wealthy and no doubt she would make a fine princess, yet…”
Something deep inside Sif seemed to settle. Thor did not take that great of interest in the Lady Sigyn. Sif sought to change the subject. They were going to war, not looking to court women. Well, she wasn’t anyhow. “Why are you here anyways?”
Thor looked down, as if ashamed. “Well, I suppose I was looking for Loki.”
“Loki?”
“Yes, Loki,” he said sternly, head snapping up. “You know, tall, skinny, black haired, fights with magic, my brother?”
Sif’s brow crinkled at his defense. “I’ve heard of him. So?”
Thor stood, taking Mjolnir in hand. “Loki has not been here. He was not in his chambers last night and he was not there this morning. Everyone knows Loki hates to get out of bed in the morning. It is unlikely that he would arise even now.”
“Since when do you concern yourself with what Loki does? He spends many nights out of the palace, you know that as well as anyone.”
“Yes, but the night before our first war?” Thor queried, pacing between the shelves. “He…he would know what to do…He usually does…”
That’s when it struck her. Loki was the image of princely restraint and collectedness. He kept his head level even when being chased by bilgesnipe and griffins. The Mighty Thor was nervous and he needed his little brother to calm his worries. “You’re nervous.”
“I am not,” he protested, twirling his hammer.
“You are,” Sif insisted, standing as well to stop Mjolnir from hitting a stack of neatly piled tomes. “Why?”
Thor sighed, dropping his weapon and letting his eyes meet hers. “Father once told Loki and I that a good king fights the best when he has more to lose. He has his kingdom that relies on him to survive. Yesterday, after I heard there was to be a war, I did not feel as though I had anything to lose. I felt like I could face death a thousand times and I only had honor to gain from it.” He hesitated, drawing a hand through his hair.
“I did not act like a Prince of Asgard. Loki did. Loki said he had everything to lose.” Thor finished.
“Then he is a coward.” Sif said, clapping her friend on the arm.
“I thought that as well.” Thor said, leaning against the shelf nearest to him. “But the more I considered his words, I realized that he meant it for the good of Yggdrasil. He fights for a reason.”
“So do you.”
“I fight for my own honor, Sif. Is that what a prince is to do? Fight for himself?” he straightened his shoulders and Sif found, for the first time in their time together, that she had to look up to see directly into his eyes.
She thought about what she wanted to say for a few seconds before grasping her friend’s shoulders. “Then fight for the good of Asgard. You care about this kingdom, don’t you?”
“Yes, but—“
“And you realize the fault in what your beliefs were?”
“I suppose, but Sif—“
“Then fight for it. You are a prince. Your responsibilities exceed those of most men, but you still have their desires for honor. Asgard earns glory through its crown.” She encouraged strictly, giving his thick shoulders a strong shake. Honestly, Sif was impressed. Thor had matured some in the past few months. He no longer spat in disgust at the mere mention of his brother. Rather, he seemed to accept Loki and, though they did not share political views, defended him when others joked of his effeminate sorcery.
Thor blinked vacantly for a moment before quirking a small grin. “You are right, Sif. Truly, I thank you for your council.” He said, lifting his hand to affectionately squeeze where the back of her neck met her shoulders. “I will fight for Asgard and for her people.” His eyes twinkled with sincerity as his thumb touched the skin behind her ear. “And for my friends.”
“I’m always right.” She reminded him breathily, trying hard to ignore the blush that crept up her cheeks and her heartbeat that could be felt in each of her toes. For a brief second, she could imagine closing that distance between them and—
She retreated from his grasp, unsure of what insane thought had just passed through her mind. Kissing Thor? No. That notion was just…wrong. Very wrong indeed. “Come. Let us go to the longships lest we wish to remain in the capital training for another hundred years.”
***
“Must you?”
“Yes.”
“Darcy, I do not wish for you to—“
She crossed her arms and lifted her chin and Loki knew he would not win this argument. “We agreed that I would go with you. It doesn’t count if we don’t travel in the same longship.”
Loki sighed, kneading his brow and looking out over the expanse of sky before them. As it turns out, on Midgard, all of their ships traveled on water rather than in the sky. “Fine. But Thor and his friends will be with us.”
“Fine.” She said back with just as much attitude as he had reluctance.
Together, closely followed by Fenrir and Jörmungandr, Darcy and Loki boarded the ship reserved for royal passengers save the Allfather who had his own.
Darcy peered over the edge of the ship and Loki had a terrible vision of her falling from their ship into the low seated streets and rivers of Asgard. “Darcy, come away from the ledge.”
“You’re not my mom, Loki,” she said, standing on her toes to get a better view.
He felt as though a stone had been dropped into the pit of his stomach. “No. I’m sure I would remember giving birth to such a disobedient child. Now, please, by the name of Odin, get away from the ledge.”
Giggling, Darcy stepped away from the edge of the ship. “So, the plan?”
Loki quickly took count of his five daggers and made sure they were all safely secured in his coat. “I have no doubts that after we land, there will be an attack. The generals of the armies will meet to define the terms of the battle before we begin. The field on which we will most likely be fighting is broad and flat and has been used for many skirmishes throughout Asgardian history.”
“The Plane of Jarvskir.” Darcy added.
He nodded to her, continuing his breakdown of the territory. “We will land east of the field where, if need be, we shall make camp. On the west side of the field is an incline and a forest. The terrain gets woodier and rockier as you ascend.”
Darcy smirked, “We have to get to the top before everyone starts stabbing each other.”
Loki nodded. “It’s rocky, in some places, muddy in others. But atop the slope is a river. A wide one. It leads to a waterfall nearing the end of Nornheim civilization.”
“We have to get to that river and—“
“There you are brother! I was beginning to fear you had run off!” Boomed Thor’s boisterous voice as he climbed into the longship.
Loki smiled in greeting, inclining his head in a slight bow. It was not, generally speaking, easy to simply tilt his head when wearing his helm. The horns were not made for delicate encounters. “What silly fears you have then.” He said in return as Sif, Fandral, Hogun and Volstagg boarded as well.
Thor grinned as well, his gaze shifting to Darcy. He cocked his head to the side curiously, “Who is this?”
“Uhhh…” Darcy managed and Loki smirked. She had wished to ride with him. Did she not remember what her identity was the last time she was in Asgard? Lady Darcy of Nornheim.
Nornheim. Oh gods. Thank Odin they did not seem to remember—
“You!” shouted Sif.
Nevermind then.
“Is it too late to say sorry?” Darcy asked, holding up her hands in surrender. Sif made to pounce on Darcy but was restrained by both Fandral and Volstagg, each grasping one of her upper arms. “She’s…Loki’s…Nornheim…little…my hair!”
Fandral made a sound of recognition. “Lady Darcy of Nornheim! I do happen to remember your presence on Loki’s Ceremony.”
Thor looked to his brother, “Loki, what are you doing? You have brought our current enemy into our ship?! She will slit our throats before we reach Nornheim!”
Loki thought quickly, giving the golden prince an even glare. “Her loyalties lie with me. She believes the Norns’ demands are foolish, just as we do. She does not wish to see them warring with Vanaheim for she knows it will be the death of her province and a heavy blow to Asgard.”
Sif broke free of her friends’ hold. “Let her speak for herself, Loki. What does this wench have to say?” she spat through bared teeth.
Darcy removed her helm revealing her still perfectly coiled bun, and tucked it under her arm. When she stepped forwards, Fenrir did so as well. “If Asgard and Vanaheim engage in war, Jotunheim will join in as well. The last thing Asgard needs is to get into another war with the Frost Giants. Nornheim has a lot of land and stuff. If there’s a war, the cities and farms and homes will be destroyed. I don’t want that.”
Sif’s eyes narrowed as she looked Darcy up and down, scrutinizing her armor, weapons and helm. Loki dreaded she may ask about the cat ears. “The last time you were in the capital, you claimed you did not fight. You lied?”
Darcy shook her head. “I didn’t fight then. I do now. I’m not really good, but I probably won’t get stabbed. Maybe. Hopefully.”
The two girls stared at each other for a moment and Sif walked further onto the ship, obviously done with her interrogation. “Fine. But if you betray us, I will kill you.”
In return Darcy gave her a wide, gleaming smile while Fenrir glared at the warriors, daring them to take another step. She touched his head, urging him into his usual, less tense state. “So, you’re not still really angry about the hair thing? Or are you? Honestly, I think it looks really good on you. I mean, sometimes I wish I had black hair. But brown is okay too.”
Sif pressed her lips together so tightly they disappeared from her face, searching Darcy for any sign of malice. When she found none, a miniscule smile formed. “I suppose, it is not so awful after all.”
Thus, Sif and Darcy became friends. It was strange for Loki, to see his brother’s best friend and his best friend become acquainted so quickly. They talked about swords and armor and fighting techniques, then ventured onto war strategy, next to politics and Asgardian feminism.
Needless to say, it was an interesting ride. Loki stayed silent for most of it, reviewing the notes in his journal and occasionally looking up to make sure Darcy was getting along alright. Eventually, she and Sif integrated into conversation with the others. Loki made it his duty to man the ship and lead the capital’s fleets to Nornheim. He had learned to pilot a longship many years ago. It was one of the first freedoms he’d been allowed.
As happy as he was for Darcy making friends, he could not stifle the bit of jealousy that molded in his chest at her social behavior. His reputation with Thor and his friends did not make their conversations flow quite so smoothly.
The group laughed loudly at a joke Fandral had made and he looked up when they mentioned Sigyn’s name.
“Alas, I did not see her, lest she would have given me her token.” Fandral bragged and Loki rolled his eyes. Sigyn was not tasteless enough to be with Fandral.
Darcy spoke and Loki could hear the smirk in her voice. “Yeah right, Fandral. Sigyn totally likes Loki.”
Loki felt heat in his cheeks and he checked to make sure Sigyn’s key was still secure around his neck. Volstagg chucked, “Is it true, Loki? Have you truly won over Lady Sigyn?”
He faced the brightening Asgardian sky, not meeting their gazes. “A lady is not a prize to be won.”
“True.” Agreed Volstagg, “But you have captured her fancy?”
Loki let the smallest of grins escape him. He would not brag over earning Sigyn’s affection. She was beautiful, yes, but they did not know of her person. They did not know what her true laugh was like or the glint in her eyes when she learned something new. They didn’t know her favorite color was yellow and she liked it in the summer when she could wear lighter dresses. “I suppose so.”
A larger hand clapped him on the shoulder accompanied by a hearty laugh. “Well done, brother! ‘I suppose so’. Coming from you, Loki, that should mean you are to be wed in a number of days!”
“I had better survive war first.” Loki grimaced, elevating their ship only slightly to catch a drift of wind.
Everyone in the ship chuckled a bit, Darcy’s shameless peals sounding above them all.
“And what about you, Lady Darcy? Who is it you favor?” Fandral asked curiously. “A brave, noble lady like yourself going to war…you would not have left a token for anyone?”
“I guess not. Someone would have to give me a token, shouldn’t they? Since I’m the one going off to war?” she wondered, scratching under Fenrir’s chin where he had no armor.
Fandral made a face, “But you are a lady. You don’t want another lady giving you a token.”
Darcy crossed her arms, “I don’t think it matters as long as I come back. That’s what a token is supposed to mean. That you have someone to come home to. A reason to make it out of war alive. It’s not something to boast over.”
A surge of pride rocketed through Loki. That was his Darcy…or, rather his friend Darcy. She could make an honest man out of Fandral yet.
Thor clapped Darcy on the shoulder like he had known her a thousand years. “So, Darcy, you do not favor anyone then?”
She scoffed, “What? Of course I like someone!”
This surprised Loki. Surely it was not Idiot Boy? No, anyone but Idiot Boy….
“Really?” asked Fandral, his wispy blonde hair blowing in the wind. “Who?”
“Hogun. Who else?” she teased and the whole boat laughed, including Loki. Even Hogun blushed a little.
Conversation weakened from there as they approached Nornheim. Loki kept his eyes on the rest of the fleet, knowing the Allfather’s ship would be at the back. The ship to his right was the general’s ship and he would land before Loki to make sure there would be no violence as the first royals descended. He would then talk to the Norns’ general and they would head out to battle.
Darcy was intrigued by Hogun being Vanir and Loki had never seen him look less grim than when Darcy asked him about his heritage while they sat cross legged on the ship floor. “So, there’s no threat of Vanaheim getting involved even though you’re Vanir?”
Hogun shook his head once, making it look like he had a crick in his neck. “My family and I are sworn to Odin and his family. We agreed a while ago to fight for Asgard and be citizens of this realm.”
“Why?” she kept asking, eyes gleaming over as he explained how his life tied into the workings of Asgardian politics. She was enamored.
“We appreciated Asgard and my parents were good friends of Odin. They believed life would be less hazardous for us here. My father is a noble, but served in his youth as a Warrior. The tribe he ruled once was destroyed by Jotuns during the last Great War. He was the last alive to be trained by and fight with their styles.” Hogun told her, his dark eyes open as he spoke in clipped tones. “He was…until he taught me.”
Loki had never heard Hogun speak so much in all the time he had known him. But there he was, Darcy’s curiosity prying him open just like it had Loki. “Why did your parents wait so long to become Asgardian citizens?”
Hogun tapped his fingers on the ground before him. “We lived in Vanaheim, in the capital for a very long time. But, my father was not happy there. He believed he owed Odin for avenging his home against Laufey’s army. When the Vanir began seeking alliances with Jotunheim, none of which pulled through, he brought us to Asgard where we swore ourselves to Odin.”
Loki could taste the question Darcy was about to ask. He knew it was coming, and he anticipated Hogun’s response. “Do you hate the Jotunar?”
Hogun did not reply for a moment. “I have never met a Frost Giant. Most Vanir believe that they are just blue skinned people with murderous desires. Asgardians tell me they are monsters with a thirst for children’s blood. I met a Light Elf once who claimed he was friends with a Frost Giant named Hugnir who enjoyed looking after baby Frost Beasts and taming them to be house pets. I do not know if I hate anyone or not.” He ceased his tapping, looking back up to Darcy. “Of course, the Vanir also say that Aesir have more bloodlust than griffins and the dwarves say the same.”
Darcy tapped her chin pensively. “But would you feel any worse if you killed a Frost Giant than an Asgardian or one of the Vanir?”
He answered immediately. “No. On the battlefield, it does not matter what we are. I will kill whoever it is I am to kill, be it man or woman, Frost Giant or otherwise.”
Loki supposed that response is why they called him Hogun the Grim. Nevertheless, it was a respectable answer. He could tell Darcy was going to use it as a point against him later when they discussed the monstrosity of Frost Giants.
Jörmungandr wrapped his armored body along the prow of the ship, mouth wide open to accept the surge of gusting wind. Just on the horizon, Loki spotted the beginnings of cultivated farmland and the outskirts to Nornheim’s main city. “Prepare yourselves, we will be landing soon.”