Chapter Text
Much like the first night that Loki pointedly called out Darcy on her powers, once more they were seated across from each other on the old sofa, his eager apprentice cross legged and exuding excitement.
“So how are we going to do this, dude?” She asked, rubbing her hands together in anticipation.
Taking Darcy’s hands he guided them to rest on her bare knees. Then he placed his atop, palm to palm. “I suspect your abilities are presenting instinctually so first we must ascertain if you can access your seidr at will.”
Darcy frowned. “Sounds complicated.”
“Incredibly. It will require you to cease talking and focus,” he teased.
“Rude! I’ll have you know I can be quiet, thank you very much. A church mouse ain't got nothin’ on me. Hell, I could write a book on giving the silent treatment. I’m freakishly good at it. It's like I’ve got shutting up down to an art form-”
Darcy’s rambling came to an abrupt stop when Loki placed his index finger against her lips. Her eyes widened a fraction as she stilled, a faint touch of pink spreading across her cheeks as her eyes locked on his. Her lips were soft and warm beneath his touch and just when he realized that he could lose himself in the blue of her eyes if he wasn’t careful, she went cross eyed to give his finger a cheeky glare.
Grinning devilishly, he tapped her lips. “Shhh.”
Though Darcy didn’t utter a word, her narrowed eyes spoke volumes. Loki couldn’t hold back his laugh. Truly, the more he grew to know Darcy the more delightful he found her to be. It was certainly worth the tongue lashing he was bound to receive.
Replacing his hand on top of hers, he pushed his amusement aside and returned his focus to the task at hand. “Close your eyes and calm your mind. Find that point within you from which your abilities well forth.”
Darcy did as requested and Loki watched the expressions slipping across her features. After several long moments, determination gave way to frustration and finally Darcy’s eyes snapped open. “It's not working.”
“You are likely overthinking it. Try again.”
Darcy's second attempt ended much like the first. So did her third. And her forth.
Practically growling in frustration, Darcy ripped off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. "I don't know what the hell you're talking about because I don't feel anything.”
Patience was a virtue Darcy did not readily possess, not that Loki could fault her. It was a hard won commodity at the best of times. Taking pity on her, he decided to try another method.
Confiscating her glasses, he set the delicate contraption aside and took her hands once more, cradling them lightly between his larger ones. “I’ve a better idea. I shall do the focusing and you simply breathe, steady breaths in and out. Can you do that for me?”
“Sure thing, boss.” She wriggled a little, getting comfortable and then grinned. “Breathing is easy peasy.”
Loki waited until Darcy’s eyes closed and her soft exhalations found a steady rhythm before turning his focus inward. It took little effort to find his seidr. He had only to follow the beating of his heart and hone in on the gentle thrum that lingered like a pale echo. Despite its weakness, it was there. Fractals of emerald, jade and gold filled his mind’s eye, ever changing and shifting. Such was the essence of him; mercurial and tempestuous, the only constant being his inability to remain the same.
There were very few things aside from sheer discipline that grounded him. Here in this moment he sought the warmth of Darcy’s skin, tampering down the mischievous desire to instigate more than their innocent touch of palms and instead faced the desire at its source.
Surely Darcy’s allure was something tangible and foreign to his person. Acting on that assumption, Loki strained to gather what seidr he could. Yet Lorelei’s curse was flawless and damned difficult to circumvent. As a result it took every ounce of his mental and physical strength just to gather a single drop from the vast ocean of his seidr. A sheen of sweat broke out on his brow as he drew it down to where their hands touched, simply hoping to highlight where the tendrils of Darcy’s power seeped into him and how best to remove them. And, by extension, allow easier access for her as well.
At least, that was Loki’s intention. But intentions had a bad habit of going awry, or as in this instance, setting off a chain reaction of engulfing proportions.
The moment his seidr came in contact with Darcy’s skin her essence sparked and then flared. Her eyes snapped open, their familiar blue washed away as her irises began to glitter like amethysts. Violet energy engulfed her body, rising like a fine mist from her skin and swirling in a chaotic eddy strong enough to rustle the loose tendrils of her hair. Panicked, she grabbed his hands in a death grip.
He wanted to soothe her. It had to be terrifying to have such a power unleashed so clumsily and with no warning. He wanted to tell her to breathe and that it would pass.
But there were no words forthcoming. In truth, Loki could barely acknowledge his own thoughts. There was nothing but Darcy and the primal lust that was thrilling through him with brutal ferocity.
He wanted. Oh how he wanted.
Every lascivious thought that had ever entered his mind since the moment they had met paled in comparison to this need. It made a mockery of his lies with painful irony, a compounded torture of every time he’d shied away from the temptation she’d presented. Those little lies were his armor, they came as easily as breathing and yet were utterly useless now. She was in his blood, sending his heart racing and his seidr rushing forward.
Seidr!
The curse was broken? By the Norns how had Darcy managed it?
“Loki…”
The simple whisper of his name was his undoing.
He lunged forward, claiming Darcy's lips in a demanding kiss. Reason tried to penetrate the purple haze that spurred him on, urging him to slow down and be gentle. She was divinity in the flesh, she deserved to be worshiped. But then Darcy’s hands were carding through his hair and her warm, lush body was arching into him and gentle was a distant memory.
The heat of her was delicious.
Inviting.
He wanted more.
Trailing kisses down her throat, he nipped at her pulse relishing the rapid flutter against his lips. A soft gasp escaped her and that sound was everything. He had to have more. He’d steal them from her with his mouth, his hands, as man or woman, however she wanted him, whatever she wanted from him, it was hers.
Still, he wanted more.
He wanted to be inside of her. He needed to be inside of her. Needed it more desperately than his next breath-
“Stop. Loki stop!”
The breathless quality to Darcy’s voice did nothing to quell his ardor but he obeyed her wishes all the same. While many unsavory things could be said about his honor, forcing himself on his lovers had never been one of them.
With incredible discipline he put distance between himself and magnetic pull of her, taking in her flushed cheeks and ragged breathing. The rise and fall of her cleavage, so prettily on display in the low cut top she wore, caught and held his attention and he fisted the sofa cushions to keep from nuzzling her tantalizing skin.
He very nearly lost the battle when Darcy heaved a deep breath, but the words that followed managed to cut through him in an entirely different fashion. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how to make it stop.”
Of course she was referring to her powers of seduction, newly heightened and running wild.
He could tell her that with his seidr restored her powers were only amplifying desire that was already there. He could use his own powers of persuasion to bend her…
But past experience reminded Loki that such complications were disastrous when they were reliant solely on each other for the time being. And besides, giving voice to the hold she had on him was juvenile at best. Centuries of courtly intrigue had taught him to keep such damning admissions to himself.
“You are overwhelmed and it’s become a physical manifestation. If I vow to keep myself in check, may I?” he asked, lifting his hands and allowing green and gold to dance about his fingertips.
Darcy’s eyes widened, the distraction working as intended. “Your mojo? It’s back!”
“It is,” he said, unable to keep his relieved smile from spreading. “Will you allow me to help?”
Darcy nodded and Loki lifted his hands, gently touching his fingertips to her temples. He didn’t dare touch his seidr to hers for fear of causing another surge in her abilities. Instead he focused on her overall being and sent a soothing spell into her skin, letting his own seidr guide the spell gently.
“Breathe in and out,” he instructed. “Focus on a steady rhythm and let it spread through you. Don’t think. Don’t feel. Simply breathe. In slowly. Out slowly.”
Closing his eyes, Loki focused on Darcy’s even breaths, slowing his breathing to match hers. With each exhale he could feel his heart rate begin to normalize. The passion that was heating his blood began to cool, reason once again taking hold over his chaotic emotions. The overwhelming allure that had enveloped her and stripped away every bit of discipline he possessed finally receded until the attraction was once more manageable, though no less present.
With clarity prevalent, the full impact of their situation hit Loki as if he’d taken Mjolnir to the chest. A sense of horror settled in his gut as he dared open his eyes, only to find Darcy watching him warily. Snatching his hands back he placed a respectable distance between himself and the poor girl, half expecting her to slap his face at any second. At the very least he deserved a verbal lashing from her for such unforgivable treatment.
An uncontrived apology hovered on the tip of his tongue but Darcy spoke first.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to… to…” She waved her hand in his direction in a vague gesture, her eyes becoming more panicked by the second. “I swear I wasn’t trying to make you do anything. It’s never done that before. I’m not going to lie, that kinda scared me a little.”
There was no lie to detect in her admission, not that Loki expected there to be. Darcy’s state of agitation was true enough and the overwhelming of her seidr, he suspected, was due to the dissolving Lorelei’s curse. The proverbial damn breaking on his seidr had caused a similar reaction within Darcy. Though it was odd as the melding of seidr between two willing participants shouldn’t have had such a volatile effect. He could only surmise that the unexpected intensity was also a result of the curse gone awry.
“No, Darcy, it is I who must apologize,” Loki was quick to amend. With gingerly movements as to not come across as threatening in any way, he retreated until the arm of the couch prevented him from going further. Satisfied that there was sufficient space between them, he said, “If there is fault to be taken then it is mine. I should have considered that the curse could potentially affect you. That was negligent on my part.”
“Did you know it would do that?”
There was a surprising lack of accusation in her tone but Loki felt it nonetheless. “I did not.”
“Well, then it’s not really your fault either.” Darcy took another deep breath, a definite hint of pink beginning to infuse her pale skin. Not meeting his gaze, she let out an awkward chuckle. “So maybe we can pretend I didn’t just try to magically roofie you and you don’t plot my death while I’m asleep.”
“You assume I will wait? I am planning your murder as we speak.” Loki deadpanned. His companion froze and he rolled his eyes. “Don’t be absurd, Darcy. I didn’t go through the trouble of saving your life only to end it myself.”
“Okay. I know. It's just… I feel terrible,” she said miserably, the transparent honesty of her admission catching Loki off guard.
Darcy was truly an enigma. Had it been anyone else he would have been at their mercy, lucky to escape with only his pride intact. That kind of desire could easily be twisted and shaped into its own kind of madness, obsessive and destructive.
Everything about Darcy was a bemusing juxtaposition. To be blessed with the power of persuasion, an ability which most- himself included- would not hesitate to exploit and yet she remained beholden to moral boundaries. Her irreverence suggested she should have little care for the wants and needs of others and still she exhibited an artless desire to see those around her taken care of properly.
In that respect she reminded him of Frigga. They shared a similar nurturing presence. Perhaps that is why he found himself so fond of Darcy. Despite her sharp wit, she was ever genuine where it mattered most.
“You have nothing to feel terrible about. I shall come up with a nuanced strategy keeping your particular skills in mind and all further attempts we make we will proceed with utmost caution.” Invested in the mystery of one Darcy Lewis, he offered, “It will be alright. No irreparable harm was caused, of that I can promise you.”
“So you still want to help me?”
Loki didn’t particularly care for how small her voice sounded but the hopefulness in her expression was welcome. “Of course. Though I fear we have tempted the Norns enough for one night.”
“Fair. Totally fair. Actually I need to unpack the laptop.. and… and stuff so, I’m just gonna go do that, um… yeah,” she muttered awkwardly, vacating the sofa as if Fenris were nipping at her heels.
Deciding the best course of action was to let the situation be, Loki situated himself more comfortably and summoned the book he’d begun to read the evening before.
The next morning Loki found the awkwardness of the night before had faded away with strong coffee under a bright, cloudless sky.
The cafe that Darcy had chosen was situated right in the heart of the market place which happened to be in the center of the village. There was an old feel to the place and Loki wondered if its origins predated even his birth. It was quite possible and it piqued his interest further as he took in his surroundings from the cafe’s streetside seating area.
What came to mind first was that the architecture was uniquely Midgardian. Each of the two-story buildings along the cobblestoned street seemed to be connected with no alleys or gaps between the different establishments, the only thing distinguishable about them being their different exterior facades. The narrow street was carved into the hillside winding out of sight in both directions, the limited space made even more so by the makeshift stalls that were in place up and down the thoroughfare.
Idly he watched the variety of mortals going about their business along the bustling street, particularly intrigued by the motorized contraption that looked similar to a bicycle as it weaved in and out of the crowd. Midgard’s technology was certainly in need of advancements. It would be much more convenient if such a vehicle could hover above the throng of pedestrians.
Although considering the merry chaos surrounding him, perhaps not.
A soft “Ah hah!” from across the table had Loki returning his attention to Darcy curiously.
“Was this attempt successful?” he inquired.
“Yep,” she beamed. “I’m in like flint.”
Into what, Loki didn’t ask. The intricacies of antiquated technology held a cursory interest but with Darcy present to do the “heavy lifting" as she called it, he found that there was no real motivation to advance his knowledge beyond mere curiosity. Sipping his coffee, he observed his pretty companion instead.
As her fingers flew over the keys he noted that Darcy's focus was as much on the screen before her as it was on their surroundings. Her furtive glances held a cunning edge as she eyed those that passed by, alert despite her appearance attesting to the contrary.
A harried voice rising slightly above the din of the crowd caught Loki’s attention. Across the street a young mother apologized profusely to an apple vendor, her eldest child at her side as she balanced a bag of produce on one arm and a toddler in the other. The boy, perhaps seven or eight, looked sheepish as the vendor- none other than the old letch Mr. Doulis, Loki realized sourly- cut off his mother’s attempts at soothing the situation and took to berating them both simply because the boy had dislodged an apple from the overladen pile and it had fallen to the ground. Inspired with mischief, Loki waited until the mother led her son away before flexing his fingers and sending another apple tumbling from the pile.
The old letch leaned over to pick up the apple. Two more rolled off the top. He again picked up the newest escapees and yet another apple toppled down. Loki had to bite back a laugh when the man started scolding the apples to stay in place. In an act of great defiance, the entire top layer of apples parted ranks and cascaded to the cobblestones below, much to the old man’s fury.
“Tormenting the natives, are we?”
Glancing at Darcy, he found her watching him with a raised brows and an impish smile. His response was to tilt his head and blink sweetly in a look of pure innocence. “I know nothing of that to which you refer.”
“Uh huh,” she quipped, quite dubiously.
“Were you able to find the information you seek?” Loki asked, neatly changing the subject.
Reverting her attention to the laptop, Darcy said, “Looks like you're not on SHEILD's radar yet. I can't find anything on file about you. There are a few reports that detail our little troll problem and it seems they believe that only Thor remained here on Earth after the fight. So this is good. One less axe hanging over our heads.”
Such an apt analogy, as much as he hated to admit it. Knowing that shying away from the dangers they faced did neither of them any favors, Loki sighed, “I wish I could say there is no more danger to fear but Odin is relentless. He will bide his time until he feels he once more has the upper hand and then he will strike.”
“What about those stone thingies your mom gave us? Is there a way he can work around their cloaking abilities?”
“They will hinder Heimdall's vision well enough. While the runestones are not infallible, it would be near impossible to meddle with the spell they contain without having physical possession of them. The spell erases traces of bio-electrical signatures and the range of the spell only works within 50 or so yards of the stone containing it. By nature the cloaking will repress every living thing within its radius. In a rural area such as this, a small gap among the gathered life-forces is far less noticeable than it would be in a more populated area. For now, we have the advantage.”
“Crap!” Darcy hissed, looking panicked. “Thor is in New York. That's the biggest, most densely populated city in America. He and Jane are going to stick out like a sore thumb to Himdoll and his laser vision. Do you think Thunder Boy is aware of this? Should I email Janey?”
Darcy’s concern was valid and Loki weighed what options Odin would currently have at his disposal. It would not be in Asgard’s best interest to start a war and Odin would avoid that outcome if at all possible. The once fearsome warmonger would never risk inciting a war he was too old and feeble to take part in. If the glory could not be his then it would belong to no one else.
Then there was the matter of Thor being Odin’s golden child. He would never seek to end Thor’s life or put him in a position where his life would be demanded as a form for retribution and to wage an attack on Midgard’s largest city could lead to exactly that.
No, Odin would not be so careless, assuming Heimdall could indeed locate Thor.
“Too many energy signatures could be equally as distorting to Heimdall's vision as too few and that will likely work in their favor. As for Odin, he may believe Midgard to be pitiable but he would not so quickly rush into an armed conflict. There is nothing he desires from Midgard aside from his wayward sons and in this case the cost of war would far outweigh the gains.”
“And what happened back in New Mexico was a play date?” Darcy snapped. “Come on, if the Pompous Eyepatch thought he could get away with it, he totally would. Fucking bastard!”
Pleased with her disdain, Loki chuckled, “I suppose Odin’s concept of subtlety and yours differ greatly.”
“Ya think?” Rolling her eyes, Darcy relented. “Sorry, it just pisses me off that he calls himself the Allfather and yet he can't even be a decent father to his kids. Shitty parenting is like my biggest pet peeve. So, anyway, should we check in with them?”
“If doing so will not reveal our position then I don’t see the harm. I will defer to your expertise in this matter,” Loki said, before downing the rest of his coffee.
“Don’t worry, we’re golden. Stark's tech is top notch. Smoother than butter. Better than sex-” Darcy’s words cut off, a flush staining her cheeks as if she'd only just realized what she'd said. Then she started laughing. “Okay, maybe a close second. But you get my point.”
Well, had things proceeded last night she would have gotten his point… alas the Norns were cruel mistresses when they were so inclined.
“Indeed,” he agreed, joining in her mirth.
At least they could laugh about the awkwardness now.
And laugh Darcy did, loud and bright. She was enchanting, holding nothing back when something incited her humor. There was beauty in that, an attractiveness that stirred his more playful impulses and urged him to mischief just to be rewarded with more of her laughter.
Disarming a god with her smile. A dangerous woman for sure.
“Alright I'm gonna email Janey,” she declared, her residual chuckles trickling away.
Wanting to hold onto this moment and the gentle chaos of the world outside the stillness of the cottage, Loki asked, “After that are you done?”
“Yeah, that's about all I can do for now. Unless you have any ideas?”
“I would enjoy experiencing more of the market,” he said, “though you appear on edge. If you would rather not, I understand.”
“No, we totally can. That sounds great. Sorry if I’m buggin’, it's just that I keep expecting someone to recognize us but it's nothing. I'm just paranoid. Usually it's only me that I have to worry about,” she assured.
“The glamor I have applied to our appearances will withhold until I release them. You need not worry.”
Reaching across the table, Darcy placed her hand over his and gave it a squeeze. “It's not that. Really. I trust your mojo. I'm just used to being on my own. I mean, before Janey and Eric I'd never settled anywhere for like more than a year.” Something wounded flitted across her expression, there and then gone as she retracted her hand, but her infectious smile never wavered. “I worry about my friends. You might as well get used to it.”
With the implication clear, an unexpected rush of warmth filled Loki's chest and he reveled in the feeling despite his better judgment. “I am honored to have made my way onto such a distinguished list.”
“You better be,” Darcy sassed with a flirty wink.
As the warmth in his chest spread to other less appropriate parts of his anatomy, Loki could only berate himself, though to no avail. She was dangerous and surrounded in a web of her own complications, none of which he needed added to the shambles his life had become. To form any kind of attachment to her was folly and he would be all the more a fool to do so.
Yet, in spite of his sound logic, she may as well be a flame and he the moth that would happily burn.