Loki sits in his tent, documents strewn all over, and he holds his sword in one hand while the other cleans the blood off. The peace lulls him in a sweet sense of security. His eyes narrow and he sakes his head to make the feeling go away. War is raging outside; he can’t afford to dream of safety. In his mind, Loki fervently curses the new Æsir king; damn that foolish and conceited boy for starting this. Of course, as the Jötunn well knows, Thor is no boy; and while he is indeed thoughtless he may prove to be a fierce opponent.
Two warriors enter the tend disrupting the stillness. They drag a person along, despite the clear struggle put up. Loki takes a moment to analyze the woman, It was not uncommon for his soldiers to bring him entertainment. It was a custom among his people that warriors brave in battle could meet the king. The purpose wasn’t to bed her; there were courtesans enough for that. Loki simply wanted a partner to converse with. And who better than somebody with wit and courage? He is about to dismiss them when he recognizes the person they bring. How could he not?
She is Darcy. Loki would know here anywhere. When he and she, and Thor among others, were younger, attending Odin’s feasts together had been something of a habit for them. Since taking his father’s throne Loki rarely had the time for ball and feasts. His people need him, always. It is in that moment that he vaguely remembers hearing that Darcy had been promised to Thor, some weeks ago. She was en-route to Asgard’s golden halls when she was caught in the fight, if her once lavish dress is anything to go by. But why would she pass through Jötunheim. She should have known it wasn’t safe.
There is recognition in her eyes and for a brief moment Loki’s heart strains against his ribcage. Loki has always been fond of her. Darcy wastes no time in pulling away from the retreating guards and runs to wrap her arms around him. He wonders if she knows what she’s doing. She seems all too aware for a moment later she pulls back as if remembering something. Calmly she tells him that she travels to Asgard, which he knows, to wed Thor, another fact he already knows. It’s not that her voice holds anything other than accuracy, or her eyes speak of sadness; Loki knows her, and this is not something she wants. He offers to keep her with him. She agrees all too easily. Somewhere Thor screams in rage at the loss of his bride-to-be.
Days are long during wartime. Swords clash and clatter; bodies fall and warriors rise. Nights are even longer and Loki has been through countless of them on his own. Darcy had been keeping him company lately, or maybe it’s not so novel when speaking of a decade. The main point is that she is there with him all the time and whispers to him of forever. Forever is not long at all. There are times when Loki senses she wants a deeper bond; Darcy doesn’t voice it but she hopes he can understand it. He does and it takes all he has not to indulge her. And himself. He could lose all he is so easily with her. He can’t do that, not when Asgard’s armies loom closer.
But one may not hold out for an eternity. And Darcy knows exactly is adamant. She makes him fall in love and Loki is helpless to refuse her anything. Forgetting the world for a moment he builds something bigger than them with her. Had anybody told them that years from this point they’d be apart both would believe it to be nonsense. After all, Darcy knows Thor is no match for Loki’s genius no matter how much more brute force the Asgardian holds. Her heart gets caught on his sleeve every time he goes out in the fray; she’d have to blind to not see Thor’s seal on a letter demanding she be given back. She wishes she didn’t know; ignorance is bliss. She still has ten blissful years ahead of her.
It takes Thor a decade more to breach all the defences. The blonde god is a storm cutting through the enemy lines. Darcy wants to scream because soon enough Loki is rises up to the challenge. The fight is nothing if not brutal. What makes her crack is that Loki is knocked to the ground, Thor one step away from killing him. Think fast. She jumps from her hiding place, going against what Loki had told her, and runs to Thor. This is the only way she can save the one she loves. Thor is momentarily distracted and the bloodlust dissipates. Darcy can’t look away as they bind Loki in chains; her heart cries out and her lips stay shut. Ruby eyes look at her in understanding and something like sorrow. She can’t look away, not even as Thor pulls her from the scene.
What she doesn’t see is the smile that’s on his face. Loki knows something she doesn’t; she will figure it out soon. His love is not the only thing he has given her. The Jötunn King knows that Thor is prideful more than anything. He won’t take Darcy if she already belongs to another. The ancient laws claimed that a female belonged to her mate only after she has given him a child. Proof of their union. Loki has been very careful in case Thor happened to succeed in shipping Darcy to Asgard. The chains rattle. It won’t be long until Thor knows just why Loki has refused to give him Darcy.
Companion to Tread.
Loki just isn’t one to be easily defeated. Thinking about making a continuation.
Angrboða paced the frozen floor of the castle. Since the King had perished, at the hands of his own son, she had actively sought a way to stabilize the kingdom left with no ruler. Jötunheim needed someone to step on the throne. It matter not if he was a Frost Giant or an Elf. They would even accept Loki. Perhaps Loki was the most reasonable choice, he was the son of Laufey but he was also the son of Odin. That would strengthen the bond with Asgard, maybe even prove useful.
So, as the faithful servant of her realm the sorceress had contacted Odin’s Queen and laid out the plan before her. The blonde goddess had been ecstatic. She had solemnly promised to talk her husband into letting her younger son ascend to the throne of his blood father. “I swear to you Angrboða, on my blood I swear, that Loki will take this responsibility as his.”
The door slammed, momentarily distracting Darcy from the autopsy report she had been reading and was previously so engrossed in. It was hard enough to decipher Jane’s handwriting on a good day; disruptions weren’t needed. She saw Loki enter the room sans his jacket and shoes but decided against speaking. Darcy was, after all, still a bit mad at him for taking off like he had.
Leaning in, he placed a soft kiss on her cheek. Darcy resisted the urge to pull away quite admirably but Loki still felt her hesitance. He pulled back, regarding her strangely for a few moments. “What’s wrong, darling?” His brows furrowed as she regarded him coldly.
“It’s nothing.” Darcy replied, her eyes falling back to the report in her lap. “I’m just busy.” It was a lame excuse, she knew that, but it would have to do. Avoidance was the perfect solution as she had no intention of speaking to Loki at that moment, or any other moment soon. Focusing her attention back to Jane’s appalling writing, she willed him away; she wanted some space.
A shift of the couch’s material alerted her that Loki sat down. “I’m serious.” He said, pulling the information away from her. He gazed at the words scribbled on paper with little interest before he tossed it on the table.
Darcy turned to glare at him. “So am I. I have work to do.” she hissed and reached for the papers. Loki’s hands caught hers just as she was about to make contact. “Loki!”
“You’re mad.” It wasn’t an accusation, just a statement. “I can’t believe you’re still mad about earlier.” Green eyes searched hers and he added somewhat cautiously, moving his stare off of her, “I already told you why I had to go. Odin’s health is faltering, he had another seizure today. ” Weariness clung to the words like glue; Loki closed his eyes for a moment and leaned his head back.
From her place at his side Darcy grasped, worry slipping in her response, “I am so sorry. How is he?” She had been too harsh on him. Logically, Darcy knew that Loki couldn’t avoid Sigyn forever; it had been stupid of her to get so worked up over that when clearly he had other things on his mind. Putting a hand on his shoulder, she pulled him closer. “Is he okay now?”
Loki sighed dejectedly, wrapping an arm around her. “He’s not; not really.” Darcy leaned closer to him. “I’m worried,” he admitted, “that he’ll go too. It was worse than usual, darling.”
Anger forgotten, shoved somewhere in the far back of her mind, Darcy chided herself for having been so stupid. Loki would never deliberately do something to hurt her. “What about the surgery? Couldn’t he have one of those?” The chances were slim not only because the surgery was dangerously invasive but Odin wasn’t all that young anymore. She knew that.
“Not likely, love.” he replied after a brief period of silence. “Thor is trying to convince his though.” They sat in silence.
When Loki had been fifteen both his parents, Laufey and Farbauti, were caught in a terrible accident. His father died instantly while Farbauti lived a while longer in a state of coma. Odin had taken Loki in, as he had promised to do should something happen to his parents. Unfortunately, that meant adopting him thus ruining the planned marriage between the boy and Odin’s daughter, Sigyn. Thor, who had been older by a year only, bonded easily with Loki, considering him a brother from the start. The daughter, however, had been an entirely different story. Sigyn was infatuated with him and sought him out even though he wasn’t interested and they were legally brother and sister and were supposed to act like it.
Two years later, Darcy met him when she fell rather gracelessly, spilling cranberry juice all over her white shirt. She had been mortified, but a kind stranger with black slicked-back hair and a pair of gorgeous, if a bit haunted, green eyes helped her up and offered her a pack of tissues to dry off. The young girl had been attracted to him right away. Before she could even introduce herself properly, or perhaps get his name, he was called away by a tall, broad blond male, who was Thor as Darcy came to know later, and a beautiful fair maiden, Sigyn. At that time Darcy had just reached her fifteenth birthday and was perhaps a bit too young but she knew what she wanted from life, and it definitely involved that dark, mesmerizing stranger.
Sadly she wouldn’t see him for another couple of years, the first three months of which she had bemoaned his absence to the point where Jane had to confiscate her iPod, filled with melancholic songs, and drag her forcibly to the world of the living. Darcy hadn’t appreciated it at that time. Then she met her first boyfriend soon after but it hadn’t lasted. Apparently she hadn’t been interested enough in him from that boy’s opinion. And she hadn’t. The only thing he ever received from her after a short period of dating was a kiss, which she regretted giving. Jane had been her shoulder to cry on.
Six months later, her second boyfriend rolled into her life. He had been sweet and kind and Darcy had almost forgotten about her dark prince during those seven months with him. Until it all came crashing down. Hell, she caught him cheating and the worst part was that it wasn’t even with another girl. Turns out, he wasn’t really interested in girls despite being a fantastic kisser. Darcy couldn’t really blame him; she should’ve seen it coming as he never wanted to do anything but kiss. The break up had been awkward. Jane came to her house later armed with ice-cream and movies even though she had her own thing to worry about.
The only long-distance relationship Darcy had ever been in was with her third boyfriend, when she was sixteen. She met him at a party where she had gone with a few classmates, including Jane, and after a few good jokes he managed to convince her to give him a chance. They danced and talked all through the party. At the end, Darcy had been slightly tipsy, having been convinced to partake in the jumping juice, and kissed him goodbye, a bit too enthusiastically, as Jane called her to the car. The following day she was surprised to find out he wasn’t going to stick around. They had exchanged e-mail addresses and thus began the relationship that lasted about two months, to her amazement, in spit of there not being any physical contact involved. He broke up with her in the ninth week, saying he had found someone else.
Her fourth dating experience was a shy guy, younger than her by a year. She hadn’t been looking for anything more than casual flirting when they stumbled upon each other. This had been the shortest relationship ever. Two weeks was what it took for Darcy to figure out they would never work. The boy had surprisingly agreed and faded quietly out of her life. They had only shared a kisses and awkward caresses, so he hadn’t been much missed.
Perhaps the one she regretted the most was her fifth relationship. At first that college student had been great, attentive, everything a girl could want in a boyfriend; that went on for about a week in which he got her to fall fort his charm. Another week later he was making progress rather rapidly. By the third week they were in her room, sprawled on the back in a heavy make-out session. Then he did something she wasn’t ready for. Darcy tried to back away or tell him to back off, it didn’t work, and he kept pulling at her clothes wanting something she wasn’t willing or ready to give. At some point she must have started yelling because her father barged through the door and pulled the boy off. After whispering something in her boyfriend’s ear, her father sent him away. Darcy never saw or heard him again. Jane was the one she turned to for comfort.
And some months later, when she was finally ready to be involved with someone again, Loki strode right back into her life. She had been waiting for Jane to come out from a training course to catch a movie when the door opened and there he was. Tall, dark and handsome as she remembered him; Darcy was sure it was a dream until those emeralds he called eyes settled on her. A brief look of surprise flashed across his face and Darcy went red. Figures, when she actually wanted a guy to be impressed by her he could only remember her as the klutz covered in cranberry juice. Or maybe he didn’t remember her at all. That one actually hurt.
But he did, in fact, remember her. How that was possible she would never know but she would be eternally grateful. Just as he was approaching her, Jane came through the door and seeing the hopeless look on her friend’s face she fitted the pieces of the puzzle together. Resisting a facepalm, she introduced them only to tell Darcy later that she had known him for about six months and he was the one teaching the course she attended. Thankfully, Jane was agile enough to avoid being throttled in a hug by her overly grateful friend.
So, every day Jane had her courses Darcy would be there, each time getting closer and closer to her real target, until she wasn’t there for her friend anymore but for Loki. He was in his second year of University, planning to major in criminal justice. Why he was teaching physics was beyond her. But in a short while they were inseparable. It was actually Loki that got her interested in becoming a homicide detective.
Her parents had been thrilled when they finally met him. Her father found that he had a lot in common with the young man who had his daughter’s heart from their way of thinking down to that odd sense of humour that enthralled both Darcy and her mother. Sometimes she though Loki was more related to her father than she was. But it was easily the best relationship she had had so far and the one she wanted to keep.
Meeting his family had been something that ate away at her. She was nervous only the first few minutes though. Odin had been cordial and even joked a little, Frigga smiled at her every chance she got and Thor had been friendly and showed interest in his brother’s happiness. Sigyn had been the only one to treat her with cool indifference. Darcy chalked it up to shyness but the girl’s behaviour never changed much to her irritation.
Not long after, kisses were not the only thing they shared. Darcy had blushed from the roots of her hair down at her mother’s advice to be safe she finally spent her first night at Loki’s apartment. This time she had been prepared and willing, if a bit fidgety. But Loki had been patient with her and showed her a good time. And what a good time it was.
Jane was the first person she called in the morning. Loki had been asleep when she sneaked out of bed, diving for her phone and dialling her friend. Her exuberance woke him up and Darcy half expected him to be annoyed. He had simply kissed her good morning and headed to the bathroom for a shower inviting her along.
If it was possible, Sigyn had been even colder to her when they announced they were moving in together, just after Darcy began her first year of University. In consequence her distaste for the girl grew. It even doubled when she saw her trying to flirt with Loki who was either not aware or ignoring it.
Seven years down the road, they were still together, sharing an apartment. Still together. And sure, they fought and yelled at times until one of them would leave slamming the door, only to come back later so they could make up. Sometimes the noise was replaced by cold, silent fury and they’d ignore each other until one or the other admitted their mistake. Those were the hard times. But generally they were happy. Loki wasn’t all that princely, he got annoyed fast and tended be stubborn and Darcy didn’t try to make it easy for him, not when she insisted on having her way and contradicting him, speaking her mind no matter what.
Living together tended to put things into perspective. But together they were happier. At the end of the day all that really mattered was having each other.
Joanna Karg looked up with horror filled eyes as the sharp object the man held got closer and closer to her. She wondered bitterly what she had done to deserve such a fate. Joanna was by all accounts an ordinary girl. A college student still living with her parents was not exactly what should attract criminals. Better yet, nobody should attract criminals. But here she was, hands and legs tied securely, in the hands of a man who looked like he would happily carve her innards out and have a good time doing it. The gag on her mouth prevented any screams from leaving.
A prickling sensation stabbed her thigh and she closer her eyes. Determined to not give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry, Joanna gritted her teeth against the pain that was growing steadily, but surely where she had been pierced. Blood flowed freely down her leg, but she kept her eyes closer. Knowing she wouldn’t be able to take it if she saw the blood; it was the only choice. It was her only comfort in this bleak, cruel situation. The girl was well aware that even prayers couldn’t help her now, but she couldn’t ignore that small seed of hope when she felt her captor withdrawing.
“Open your eyes!” a rough voice commanded her as her body was forced to change its position. A squeeze to her wounded leg made Joanna snap and she directed a fierce glare to the monster standing in front of her.
“Now, now, is that any way to look at me?” Another stab to her leg made her shudder but she didn’t relent. “You could make this so much easier on yourself. Haven’t I been nice to enough to you? I’ve brought you to this quiet, lovely place, given you nice clothing and a comfortable bed.”
She wanted to rebel against him, yell that he made her sick, punch him, stab him, anything. But her bonds were too strong; the rope was cutting through her skin, leaving raw wounds along her arms. This guy, whoever he was, needed to have his head checked; badly, might she add. Of course, this was not the time to be sarcastic. But between tears and the cool act, Joanna would always choose to appear brave. Might as well go in a fabulous way, if she had no chance of being saved; which she knew she didn’t. This wasn’t a movie where the good guys always won.
He snorted. “You’re awfully uncooperative.” Joanna hardened her glare and cursed him in her mind. Being a fan of crime series and cop movies, she knew that victims never had it easy. And this guy was already torturing her, and enjoying it by the way his eyes shined with ill concealed glee. He smiled oddly at her, almost sweetly and Joanna felt her stomach roll.
Thoughts and wishes crammed in her head. The girl thought about her mother and step-father, regretting that she hadn’t been able to say her goodbyes. She would never get to hear her mother’s encouragements, or her step-dad’s bad jokes. A wave of pity wracked her body, thinking about her poor mother who had single-handedly raised Joanna until she was thirteen. Then her mother met the man who would later become her husband. She had been instantly taken with the soft-spoken man who would take the role of father-figure in her life and who dotted on her mother. It was regrettable that she wouldn’t get to thank him for that.
But Joanna had always considered herself though as nails. With a determined look in her eyes she stared at her subjugator. If only she’d have her bow and arrows with her. Her mother’s husband had taught her to use it a few years back and since then it had become a hobby of hers. The though of a well placed arrow in the monster’s skull, right between his beady eyes, seemed more appealing by the moment.
“Ah, don’t worry, little girl, I plan to make us famous.” the menacing man, if she could even call him that, said while pulling out a long butcher’s knife. He grabbed one of her hand, the right one, and cut off her third digit. Blood sprung forward and the appendage fell to the ground. “You won’t be able to see it but trust me when I say everyone will be paying attention to us, my lovely doll.”
Bile rose in Joanna’s throat as the pain and blood made her see stars. Thick scarlet substance coated her whole hand at it just wouldn’t slow down. She couldn’t even think. Searing sting ripped her apart, clogging her mind.
“Any last words before we get down to business?” he asked mocking. “Oh, my bad, I almost forgot; you can’t speak.”
Yes, her life was definitely no movie, or maybe it was a horror. So she expected no hero to ne there for her and end the nightmare. To her great surprise, she was very calm when faced with her imminent doom. Must have come from her mother’s side, all that level-headedness.
Darcy stepped in Mrs. Tompkins’s office, closing the door gently after herself. Jane was a step ahead of her, with an unreadable expression. It was time for her consult and although she didn’t seem nervous she wasn’t exactly relaxed either.
The consult was fairly routine. The doctor asked a few questioned to which Jane answered stiffly, then checked her pulse and suggested a blood test. Darcy urged Jane to agree. Since she was a fellow employee of the hospital things moved along fast enough and forty-five minutes later Dr. Tompkins had the results in her hand.
“Congratulations, Ms Foster, you are pregnant. About eight weeks along.” It wasn’t really a shock but Darcy hadn’t expected it. Jane nodded and thanked the doctor, pulling Darcy along as they made their way out of the hospital.
“Do you want me to stay over at your place tonight?” the dark haired girl asked cautiously. She didn’t really know what to make of the situation but she’s support Jane anyway she needed.
The pathologist sighed loudly. “If it’s not asking too much.”
‘It’s not.” Darcy assured her. “I’ll call from your phone when we get there. Mine’s dead.” Jane nodded absently. “So, who’s the father?”
The question seemed to startle her blonde friend. “This guy I slept with after having too much to drink.” She shrugged her shoulders helplessly. “I think his name started with ‘T’.”
“Are you keeping the child?” It was a curious situation Jane had landed herself in. Darcy saw her nod and inclined her head in understanding. “Do you want to find the father?”
“Darce, really! The only thing I remember is that he was tall, blonde and had one heck of a sculptured body. Like some sort of god. I don’t even know his name.”
“From the description you gave me, I totally understand why you took that one-night stand. But what happened to keeping it safe?”
“Too much alcohol.” Jane replied dryly.
“If you do remember anything just let me know. Whoever this guy is, shrinking his responsibilities is not something I’ll let him get away with.”
“You’re my best friend, you know.” Jane said with a small smile, clutching to Darcy’s arm as they walked to her apartment.
A smirk lit her friend’s face. “It’s the least I can do. You’ve put up with my messes far too many times.” Darcy offered, holding onto Jane just as tightly.
The rest of the walk was comfortably silent, each woman lost in her won little world. They had something to think about and a little quietness helped the process along most formidably.
“How’s Jane?” Loki asked his partner the next day.
“Surprised, but fine.” Darcy replied with ease, arranging the reports on her desk. “I’ve been meaning to ask you…”
“Yes?” prompted the male.
“Do you think you could give me the apartment this Saturday? I want to have Jane over, because honestly, she needs the company.”
Always the politer one, Loki nodded his head adding an “I don’t mind.” after. “I’ll just go and visit Odin in hospital. Maybe try to convince him to have that surgery.”
Darcy was about to reply that she was very grateful when the door was tore off its hinges, and Thor rushed in. He was red in the face, breathing heavily, clearly tired. Loki scowled at the intruder. “What happened, Thor? Is it Odin?”
“No.” said the blonde breathlessly. A moment later he added, a bit more clearly, “No, he’s stable for now. This is about you case actually.”
“Do tell.” Darcy urged, apprehension spilling over her features. “What news do you bring?”
“The girl you found, her name was Catherin Margery Dyne. Parents reported her missing when she failed to come home, three days ago.”
“Any chance we can talk to them?” Loki asked, keeping his eyes glued to Thor.
“Yes, actually, they wanted to talk to you too. They want to identify the body.”
Loki rose from his seat and signed Darcy along. “Yes. Of course.”
On her part, Darcy was nervous. Parents were the hardest to deal with, not because they made it so, but because she had the tendency of feeling their agony too keenly. She couldn’t help but think of all the things that might go wrong when faced with parents mourning their child. Secretly, Darcy had always wanted children of her own but to bring them in a world such as the one she lived in wasn’t exactly thrilling.
Besides, she hadn’t discussed it with Loki yet. She could bring a child up on her own but she’d rather not. A child would be best raised in a fully functional family. This made her think of Jane. In the back of her mind, Darcy wondered if everything would turn out fine. She certainly hoped it did.
So, we have a bit of info of character;s history for your viewing pleasure and to clear a few things up. Another possible strike from out mysterious murderer, some drama (or maybe a lot) and glorious friendship between Darcy and Jane.
The whole crime thing is totally new to me. Hope I did well.
I believe all views of Darcy Lewis are valid. She is a fictional character therefore she may be formed to suit the taste of one person or another. Don’t take offence, then, when I express my belief as I don’t when you express yours.I assume that it is safe for us to coexist peacefully.
That being said, if anybody has felt violated by my way of saying what I think, I am sorry. It wasn’t meant as an attack, just a rant. Do keep that in mind to discourage further misunderstandings.
The person behind this blog
I will start by warning you that this is my own personal view on the subject I’m about to broach and I may rant. If you have to disagree then please, do it in a sensible way and try to offer some arguments.
Now, Darcy Lewis is, as we know, Jane’s assistant-of-sorts and a beloved character from Marvel’s ‘Thor’. Fans feel drawn to her because she is easy to identify with. In other words, she is normal.
Among her qualities we find wit, an unusual but appealing sense of humour and, not to forget, a pleasant appearance (courtesy of Kat Dennings, of course). This is the image painted by the movie she graces the screen of..
Darcy studies political science, so we can safely assume that her head is on her shoulders for another reason than to just be pretty. In addition she is working with Jane, an astrophysicist, and while she might not understand the finer points of Jane’s research, I believe she has proven capable of grasping the basics. Another instance in which Darcy’s intellect shines through comes as the scene of Erik’s argument with Jane where our young university student plays mediator.
The famous sense of humour Darcy exhibits is clear throughout the whole movie. But if you want me to name some scenes: Darcy vs. Thor – Darcy wins; the Thor-on-Facebook affair; the bow and her many dry remarks that never fail to amuse. Our girl deserves a round of applause for the way she handles everything.
This being said, I cannot help but wonder why people feel the need to trivialise her merits the way they do. I find it unfair, and dare I say it, shameful.
I am referring to the tendency of some to make Darcy some dimwit overly fond of partying, alcohol, drugs and sex. She is supposed to represent us; if normal people were like that this world would have fallen apart long ago. That is not to say that going to a party is wrong; it’s not. However, going to a party and getting drunk to the point of incoherence is by no means something to be prized. Nor is the usage of narcotics for that matter. And I won’t even mention the fact that drugs are illegal; they are harmful and destructive. Another thing that tends to vex me is the way Darcy’s charms are used against her. Fanfiction often portrays her as being loose, if I may use this term. I have encountered, and not only once, pieces of work in which our favourite taser-wielding student had lost her virginity at a party whilst inebriated. That shows lack of respect on the fans’ part. Does it not seem pointless to give her first time away to somebody who doesn’t acre for her? I am not saying that she should be a virgin until the day she marries, but I want to point out that she should have that much self-respect as to know that she deserves better than a quickie in the back of someone’s car. That fans choose to write her as unaware of her worth is just sad.
Language is also something I wish to discuss. Most often when I read fiction with Darcy in it, she uses a compilation of vulgar terms with the occasional appearance of ‘dude’. Can someone remind me when Darcy used ‘dude’ in the movie, please? I am curious as to those less than proper words too. I understand that some find it appealing, but I don’t. Of course, curse words are unavoidable, but they are hardly necessary in every single line of Darcy’s dialogues. Keep in mind that she is someone with a higher education.
If you want to make Darcy Lewis special then give her the respect she deserves. Do not let yourselves be confused by the thin line separating normal, genuine women from the image offered by the media. Most try to make Darcy unique, so they exaggerate both the good and the bad. But remember she is normal, average. Don’t try to make her out as something else.
I apologise if I came on too strongly but this topic has been on my mind for a while. Also, everybody is entitled to their own opinion. Feel free to contradict me or to simply disagree.
All the best,
The person behind this blog
Darcy dips the rag in clean water as Loki enters the massive tent, flaps swaying in his wake. She barely looks up before her vision is bathed in violent red over dark blue. Everything is painted in blood. Scarlet drips from the tips of his hair while other strands stick to his face; scarlet also stains his armours and stretches over his skin. A grimace settles on Darcy’s lips at the fearsome image Loki exhibits. He doesn’t seem hurt, but she can’t really tell with the protective coverings obstructing her view and the way he keeps himself tall and proud.
She beckons him over with a crook of her finger. His helmet meets the ground, followed by the chest plate and various other pieces of his armour. Darcy puts them away after cleansing the proof of Loki’s victory off. Then she turns back to him, throwing the piece of cloth in the lukewarm water. Her attention is solely on him now as he sits down and lets her divest him of his blood-soaked tunic. The garment is flung away with little concern and the wet rag is retrieved in a span of five seconds. She is not hasty, just swift.
With feathery movements, the woman brushes water to his face, removing all the red, leaving behind clear, dark blue. The delicate ridges adorning his face are visible now and Darcy traces them with the tips of her fingers. Loki leans into her touch, a content growl quaking through him and seeping into her frame. The warrior is at peace now that the fight is over. She smiles and goes on with the washing. She sweeps and scrubs until all the blood is gone and the naturally blue skin takes its place. Satisfied with her work, Darcy puts the instruments away.
Two strong hands grip both of her sides and pull her into his lap. Loki’s face breaks out in a grin, which is contagious as Darcy can’t help mirroring it. There is something in his fiery eyes that makes her melt against him despite his customary coldness. One movement later, she’s underneath him, dainty fingers tangling in sleeked back, raven hair. She can almost feel her pulse thrumming beneath his lips but the loud beating of her heart distracts her. Frosty lips brush against her own and she can’t stop the mewl leaving her. The sound in swallowed by him.
Her hands move, as does his. At the end of the day, Loki is a man who, despite being a strong warrior, needs to get and give what everyone else does: love. If it means that she can hold him as she does now and burn together with him as one, she had no qualms with it. The world be damned, at Loki’s side she can neither wish, nor care for nothing else for anything else. He seems to be of a mind with her when he whispers, “Stop thinking, just feel.” And he’s back to stealing her breath away.
Because, tasertricks all the way!
When goddess Darcy sets eyes on Loki at the feast, spark fly. Can an insignificant deity like her make a difference in the life of the Prince of Asgard? There’s more to him than meets the eye and she wants to know everything. One-shot. AU. T for language.
For those of you who feel that drabbles are not nearly enough to satisfy your loki/darcy craving here’s a lengthier fic of mine.
Darcy Lewis would have never expected herself to be in such a situation as her current one. It was crazy even to her, and she wasn’t exactly conventionally sane. But despite the oddity of it, it was happening, and it was happening to her. Had she been slightly more inclined towards normal behaviour she would’ve fretted or probably cried; she would’ve been greatly distressed.
However, Darcy was not your typical girl. Hell, she had seen gods falling from the sky, tased then befriended them and not to mention she worked at S.H.I.E.L.D. And despite all that she managed to remain sane, as sane as she was before anyway. As it was, her current predicament made her feel excited. Sure she was a wee bit scared but generally happy for herself, even if the rest of the world regarded her as a lunatic at the moment. Well, everyone except Thor that was.
For the sake of making things clear, Darcy was pregnant. That in and of itself wasn’t a big deal. Women got pregnant all the time after all. No, the amazing thing was the paternity of the child in question. Who would have believed that Loki, the God of Mischief, would go and get little, plain Darcy with child? It was unbelievable.[…]
Hope you like it.