The sky is darkening outside; Darcy sits next to Loki on the bed in the Avengers' Mansion. Her knees are pulled up to her chest, her digital tablet perched there. After Loki 'awoke' and recognized her and Thor, they'd gotten him to sit up and drink some milk. And then Loki had promptly fallen asleep. When he'd rolled over on his own power and curled into semi-fetal position next to Darcy, Thor had been ecstatic.

Thor's left now to go see Jane.

There is some weird electrolyte vitamin drink by the bed, and a thermos of soup - just in case Loki awakes. He is absolutely not supposed to eat any solids yet.

Darcy's too keyed up to sleep. Blinking at the screen, she's looking at her email inbox. The page is literally a wall of requests for interviews. She opens a few, gets overwhelmed, and decides maybe she should seek out the Avengers' publicist.

She flips to the New York Times online. There's another article on Jotunheim - of course. This one mentions Darcy by name, and how she is too biased to be offer reliable reports, because among other reasons, she isn't trained as a journalist.

"What a..." The next words out of her mouth are in jotunn. "Steaming heap of polar bear shit," she mutters. Beside her she hears a soft laugh, and then a whisper. "Will your capacity to surprise me never end?"

With a happy yelp, Darcy sets the tablet on the bedside table and slides down so she's lying next to Loki. He presses his face to her cheek, his eyes closed. Very slowly, as though expecting resistance, he lifts a hand underneath the covers. And then he drags it out and reaches to take hers. His fingers slip between her own and her skin heats.

She knows what that simple gesture means now, and she wants it to be true...but it was easy before, when it was just a two week stand. Now there are so many other issues.

Closing her eyes she shakes her head. Those are thoughts for later.

Loki brings their hands to his lips and kisses her knuckles. The touch courses through her body like an electric shock, even though he's pale, pasty, and gaunt. His eyelids flicker open. He looks at their hands and his eyes widen. "I'm not blue."

"Yeah," Darcy says. "I was wondering about that. Last time you didn't have your magic, you reverted to your true form."

Loki sighs. His grip on her hand loosens, but he doesn't let go. He closes his eyes for a moment. His skin doesn't change color, but when he opens his eyes they're glowing orange-red. It's familiar yet still sexy. Darcy smiles, but Loki scowls. "Odin. He turned me back to my Asgardian appearance before I faced the Diar. Out of kindness or because he didn't want to rub the fact that he'd shown mercy to a monster, I still don't know."

Darcy's brow furrows. "So this is like the elf queen giving you frog legs?"

Loki nods. "Yes, someone else's magic. It will take some effort to undo. I have my magic. I'm just too tired to access it at the moment." He brings a hand to his temple. "This form explains the low grade headache. Funny, I didn't really notice it when..." Rubbing the bridge of his nose, he doesn't finish.

Darcy swallows. She can see how a headache wouldn't be your first concern while being chained to rocks as a weird robot bird thing ate your liver. Her chest tightens and she says, "I'm supposed to get you to drink some soup, or some of the green stuff..."

He grumbles something about knowing the routine. From the time he spent chained in a cave with the snake? Or maybe the myth of him being captured by a giant and starved for 30 days is true? Darcy doesn't feel like asking. She helps him sit up and drink the soup - he won't touch the green concoction. She follows him when he slides back down into the bed and puts her head on the pillow beside him. She's on her back. He's lying on his side.

Not meeting her eyes, he picks at her shirt. "Why are you wearing clothes?"

"Because no one knocks when they walk in," she says.

Loki lets out a low harumf and finds her hand. As his fingers slide against hers she reminds herself she's not questioning this. Instead she says, "I know what that means, you know."

"Then you know why you should take off your clothes," Loki whispers in her ear. Bringing their hands up to her chest, he gives a soft sigh.

"How is this a good idea?" Darcy asks, shifting her legs.

"It's very life affirming," says Loki, slipping his hand from hers and cupping a breast.

Smiling despite herself, she arches her back and murmurs. "Maybe we should affirm life when you can sit up unassisted?"

"The time to affirm life is always the present," Loki says. Rubbing his thumb against her nipple he groans and Darcy bites her lips.

"You are so soft and so warm," he says.

He stills for a moment. "So warm."

Darcy's eyes go to the door. It doesn't seem like a good idea...but maybe if they're careful.

She hears a long intake of breath by her ear. Loki's entire body shudders. It takes her a moment but then she realizes he's asleep.

The bed's too small. A beautiful man has just gone to sleep on her, leaving her inconveniently aroused. And her jeans really aren't that comfortable for sleeping in.

The moment is oddly perfect. Darcy closes her eyes and soon joins Loki in dreams.

Loki's arm is draped over a warm soft pillow. His leg is also draped over said pillow. He has a slight headache, his skin feels too tight, and he's hungry, but otherwise he's comfortable. And he's on his side. That is important. On the rocks he always lay on his back. Yesterday, last night - maybe they weren't dreams?

Thor is speaking some place far away. "I will watch him. Go now and get some refreshment."

The pillow shifts and slips away. And Loki's eyes open to see Darcy stepping away from the bed. If this was a dream, she wouldn't be walking away.

Behind him the bed sinks.

Thor. Suddenly, questions shoot through his lethargy, and his muscles tighten. As soon as he's sure Darcy is gone, Loki puts a hand to his face.

"Thor..."

"Brother!" shouts Thor far too loudly. The bed springs creak and suddenly Thor is up and around the bed, kneeling down and facing Loki with the happy expectancy of a golden retriever puppy.

"You're awake!"

"Thor," Loki says, not bothering to answer the obvious. "How much was a dream?"

Thor's smile drops. "What do you remember?" he asks quietly.

"Fighting," says Loki.

"Yes," says Thor. He gets up and moves wearily to a chair by the bed. Loki meets his eyes.

Looking away, Thor says, "The Einherjar."

"Some escaped back to Asgard," says Loki.

"Yes," says Thor.

Loki swallows. "Are you banished now?"

Thor raises an eyebrow. "Yes. Along with Fandral and Sif. Though we haven't been stripped of our magic, so it isn't as dire as last time."

Loki takes a deep breath and his chest tightens. Frost giants age very slowly, and Loki is so powerful that death, at least by aging, is many centuries away.

Thor, Fandral and Sif are magical; they will live for a long time. Still, to be banished is a death sentence. He closes his eyes. Thor especially is strong in healing; aging will progress slowly in him, perhaps at half the rate as a human. But by the time Darcy and Jane pass, Thor will...

Lokis's chest tightens further and his body constricts into a fetal position. They'll die before him. All of them.

And then a sudden thought chills him. Can he die at all? He tried so hard to die in the last few decades and failed miserably. Maybe he can't die. The idea is heavy, unsettling, and unwelcome. He closes his eyes and puts his head in his hands. He sees the bodies of the guards, killed during his little scheme during Thor's coronation ceremony. He imagines the Jotunn he killed with the Bifrost. He sees the human and Chitauri bodies after the first attack - because the Chitauri were slaves of Thanos, too, weren't they? These are all weights he would love dearly to leave behind. If he cannot die, then there is no way to drop them. Unless maybe he were to transform himself into a form without the intellectual capacity to hold onto those memories for a prolonged period of time. His magic wouldn't let him stay in the body of an animal for more than a day or so, he'd automatically revert...but a baby, maybe...and if everyone he loved was gone...

"Do not let it trouble you," says Thor. "We knew the risks. And anyway, I knew that the Norns would most likely take the apples of Idunn from me..." Shrugging casually, Thor says, "It was part of the deal I made with them."

Loki tilts his head and feels his blood go cold. The Norns are famous for extracting excruciating bargains.

Thor puts his hands together. Not meeting Loki's gaze, he cracks his knuckles. "I wanted to plead insanity on your behalf when we faced the Diar after the first Chitauri invasion. Heimdall would not tell me what befell you at their hands. So I went to the Norns. They see everything that happens, though the the future, you know, is only probabilities..."

Loki's mouth falls. "You pledged them your immortality, Thor, to gather evidence?"

Turning a little red, Thor says, "Not exactly."

Loki's eyes narrow. "What did you pledge?"

Thor turns completely red now. "I told them I would give them anything they wanted."

Taking a short breath, Loki tries to calm himself. He means to just give Thor a mild reproof. "You what? You idiot!" The words come out of Loki's mouth so loudly the windows reverberate.

Thor only laughs. "It is is so good to have you back, brother!"

"How could you be so stupid?" Loki shouts. "You promised them anything-and they took your immortality!"

Thor snorts a laugh. "Actually, they said I would lose my right to the apples of Idunn."

And then the big, honest, selfless oaf nearly doubles over laughing. "But it wasn't just that, Loki! They told me they would take my kingship as well!"

"Why is this so funny to you?" Loki says, suddenly finding the energy to sit up. If he had anymore energy he'd probably set the room on fire.

"Because, Brother..." Thor says, wiping an eye. "They took nothing! Don't you see? As soon as I testified on your behalf, the Diar started talking about the crown skipping my head. They said Earth had made me soft. And as for Idunn's apples...had I not gone to the Norns I still would have lost my right to them. I still would have rescued you."

Thor sobers up. "The truth is, I got off easy. I think because they rather like you. They are weavers, you know...like the three fates in Grecian myths."

Loki raises an eyebrow. He did not know this.

"They weave beautiful tapestries of everything that happens in the universe," Thor says quietly. "They said when you're weakened and father gets overzealous, the patterns aren't as dynamic."

He narrows his eyes at Loki. "And when you get overzealous the threads tangle into hopeless knots."

Loki sits back against his pillow and scowls. "Riddles don't suit you, Brother."

Raising his eyebrows, Thor gazes down and scratches behind his ear. "When I first went to them they didn't understand me when I called you brother...they thought I was speaking of Baldur." He favors Loki with a smirk. Smirking doesn't suit Thor's open face. "I think...I think...you may actually be my uncle."

Loki remembers Odin's face when he called him brother. He feels his heart rate quicken. It still doesn't explain some things. "Thor, did they tell you what I am...what Odin is..."

Thor's gaze grows distant. "No. And I didn't ask." He smiles. "But I know what you are."

Loki looks at him expectantly.

Thor's smile widens. "You are trouble!" he says and Loki's eyes narrow.

Looking down, Thor says softly, "And mischief, chaos, transformation and change."

Loki looks away, wondering if he's stumbled into a dream again.

And then Thor says, "If you don't mind, I would like to still call you Brother."

Looking back, Loki finds Thor giving him a twisted half smile. "Really, I am fine with dwelling in your shadow and being your side-kick, Loki. But calling you uncle..." He winces comically.

Loki feels far too heavy, and it is too hard to breathe. The galaxy is obviously spinning in the wrong direction, the universe is constricting instead of expanding, and Earth's poles must be in the process of reversing. "Of course," he manages to say.

Darcy chooses that moment to re-enter the room. Tension leaves Loki's body, and Thor visibly relaxes as well. Her arrival is a welcome distraction for both of them. This conversation has been too heady.

"Ah, Lady Darcy," says Thor, standing from his seat and giving her a wink. "I'll leave you two alone."

Darcy looks like she might protest, but then she looks to Loki and he nods at her. She looks at Thor and smiles. "I bet Jane misses you - or at the very least needs you to remind her to eat."

Thor chuckles and heads for the door. Loki's throat constricts for some reason. He calls out. "Brother!"

Thor stops and turns. "Yes?"

Heaving a breath, Loki manages a difficult smirk. "The Norns...did they appear to you as beautiful maidens or old crones?" They are known to take either form depending on their whims.

Thor tilts his head. "Crones."

Shaking his head, Loki widens his smirk. "You were robbed."

Thor laughs. "I know!" And then he turns around again and vanishes down the hall.

Loki turns to Darcy. She's very close to the bed now. Her eyes are on him, her smile gone. She looks sad.

"You are a beautiful sight for sore eyes," he says, his arm a little lower than might be appropriate if their relationship were different.

He pulls her close; her pensive expression doesn't change.

x x x x

Handing her winter coat to a robot butler, Darcy steps into the Avengers' mansion.

Someone must have a television on somewhere, because Darcy hears her own voice in the distance over a speaker. "The Jotuns are victims of progress? Do you realize how condescending that sounds?"

Laura Osborne's voice filters through the hallway. "I don't think you were in a position to look at it objectively. My training as a reporter allows me to -"

"Spare me the ad hominems," Darcy snaps. "I think the frost giants and I are being objective. They've weighed the reality of their children starving and freezing to death today against the threat of environmental degradation in the future and they're picking their children. Environmental degradation which wealth and prosperity may mitigate, I might add."

The male host's voice chimes in next. "Well, I think we know which political party you belong to."

Darcy hears her voice crack through the hallways. "No, actually you don't. What you can probably tell is that I'm a parent who can only imagine what it is like to watch her children starve."

She clenches her fist anticipating Laura's response and closes her eyes when it comes.

"The frost giants themselves sacrifice their children if they are weak. I think it's safe to say you're anthropomorphizing them if you think they value their offspring the way we value ours. Socially, and probably genetically, it's likely they just...don't."

There is a moment of silence in the mansion. There had been silence in the studio when Laura had said that, too.

Darcy had wanted to say something intelligent and logical. But all she could think of was Eisa, and her parents' hope for Eisa's little injured brother, and Loki defying Asgardian traditions to keep his handicapped daughter; it was all she could do not to spontaneously combust. Instead she'd exploded. "Are you crazy?"

She closes her eyes. She hadn't liked that response at the time. But the audience had loved it. She'd gotten a standing ovation.

She sighs as the sound of clapping comes over the TV. Her phone rings. The caller ID says Jon Hartman & Associates. Grateful for the distraction she answers.

"Hello, Darcy Lewis."

"Ms. Lewis, this is Jon Hartman calling on behalf of Mr. Lothur Farbautison. First, let me tell you how sorry I am for your loss. I am certain you must be still grieving, but Mr. Farbautison has you mentioned in his will, and I was to contact you if and when..."

Blinking, Darcy says, "Wait, Lothur Farbautison?" And then she closes her eyes. Farbauti was the name most commonly given to Loki's father. And Lothur was one of Loki's many names.

"Ah, perhaps you have not heard the news. He said that might occur. I'm sorry to say, Mr. Farbautison is dead."

Eyes widening, blood going cold, Darcy runs down the hallway. "No! Wait, that can't be true!" She'd just seen him this morning.

"I am sorry, it is. It may not be much of a comfort, but you are set to come into a sizeable inheritance, along with his sons and ex-wife -"

Darcy does a Thor and slams through the door of Loki's room without knocking. His bed is empty and neatly made. Her heart stops.

And then from the opposite corner of the room comes a familiar voice. "Look! I'm blue, and sitting up, too. You know what that means?"

Darcy turns to see Loki sitting on a chair. He is waggling his eyebrows and smirking.

The ice cold worry in her veins turns to hot anger. Holding up the phone, Darcy huffs. "Why is there a lawyer on the phone telling me you're dead?"

Loki blinks. "Oh, yes, that. I told him to contact you if he hadn't heard from me in three months time." He smiles. "But at least now you know I care."

Darcy hurls the phone at him.

Nonplussed, Loki plucks the phone from the air just before it hits his face and sets it to his ear. "Hello, Jon? Yes, yes, I'm fine. Mmmm-hmmmmm...give my regards to the wife and kids. Yes, yes, I certainly will."

Closing the phone, he smirks back at Darcy. "Now, where were we? Oh, yes, I was pointing out that I am upright and blue."

Walking over to the chair, Darcy restrains the urge to strangle him. Instead she slips into his lap and wraps her arms around him tight. "Don't ever do that again."

Gently kissing the soft skin just in front of her ear, Loki says, "Forget to get in touch with my lawyer? I will try to remember." He grinds his hips against hers and Darcy pulls back a little.

His pupils are dilated, the ring of fire of his iris just a very visible band. Aside from being thin, he hasn't changed at all since before he left her all those months ago. He's beautiful, with high cheekbones and taut, ageless storm cloud blue skin. Black hair. She's changed. After 45 years she got her first streaks of gray hair - probably on his account. The scare just now is probably going to cost her some more.

His hands tighten on her hips, and she feels his arousal beneath her. After the first realization that yes, he found her sexually attractive, she has been able to be unselfconscious about it. She has known a few younger men, handsome, vital, successful men, who have had affairs with women her age; it almost seems like a right of passage. But the affairs never last. And it is always the women who have to end it.

Darcy and Loki should talk about this. They really should.

Leaning forward, Loki whispers in her ear. "I saw your interview on television." His voice is thick with want and need and his hips grind against hers. "Darcy Lewis, I have never wanted to pound you into the mattress as much as I do now."

His lips connect with hers and Darcy decides 'The Talk' can wait.

x x x x

Loki sits with his legs stretched out on a plush chair in a hidden nook of a large "department" store's men's section. He is in his Asgardian form, just for convenience. Darcy is somewhere buying clothes for Franz and Max who are due home in two days time for their Yuletide break.

Loki is far from completely better. He gets exhausted easily. He had a brief moment this morning he when he thought he was back on the rocks; it had terrified Darcy. And magically he is too weak to teleport, or really do much more than change from his Asgardian form to his Jotunn form.

He is well enough to have spent the last few nights at Darcy's flat. He's followed her here - by subway no less, for the exercise. Also, just because he enjoys her company.

The trip has worn him out, though. When his Stark phone rang with a text from Nari in Asgard, he'd been grateful for the excuse to sit down, leaving Darcy to go off and run her errands.

Stark had given phones to his sons when they helped free Loki. There was also one that Nari and Valli are trying to get to Frigga, but whenever they speak to their grandmother, they are always under guard.

Now Loki scowls down at Nari's latest text. "They are grooming Ullr to rule as regent next time Odin goes into Odin's Sleep."

The acknowledgement that if anyone else takes the throne it will be to rule as regent only makes Loki blink. He'd suspected as much. But why Ullr? He suddenly feels very uncomfortable.

Ullr is Sif's son and Thor's adoptive son. Sif never revealed Ullr's father. Ullr looks so much like Thor...Most people just think that the two young lovers had had a happy accident before they were officially betrothed.

Ullr is strong in magic, but a cunning warrior, too. He loves Thor by all accounts - and looks so much like him. Like a son. Loki sighs. Or a brother. Loki rubs his eyes and blinks at Nari's next text. "They are changing his name to Odinson. Grandmother loves Ullr but is furious."

Loki feels a headache coming on that has nothing to do with his present form. Asgardians have open marriages, or have marriage contracts that last a set amount of time, typically a century. Frigga's and Odin's marriage has always been 'open,' but only Frigga's sons were supposed to be in line for the throne.

Nari's next text says, "Ullr is sympathetic to the cause of reform. I am optimistic. Though I fear he will expend too much energy trying to end Sif's exile."

Loki sighs and texts back. "Are you keeping Valli in line?"

"Always," Nari responds and Loki's brows furrow. Nari is the only one who can keep Valli in line.

They text a little more, and then Valli joins in. Loki loves Valli. He can be ruthless, quick to anger, and violent, but he can also be noble, self-sacrificing, and brave in a way Nari or Loki is not. He would give his life to anyone close to him, or even out of principle.

….He also tends to bring the intelligence of any conversation down a few notches. Sometimes it is welcome. Other times, not so much.

"Are you still with She of the Divine Bosom?" Valli texts.

Considering it is Valli and how rude he can be, it's rather an innocuous comment. It still makes Loki's stomach churn. Loki tilts his head and texts back. "Be respectful, and Yes. I understood she was in cold weather gear when you met. What makes you think -"

Nari responds. "We both noticed. It must be genetic, FATHER."

Well...that is uncomfortable.

"You intend to keep her, then?" Valli texts.

And then Loki's stomach tumbles. Keep her. Like a pet. It's so Asgardian. He wouldn't have thought much of it even twenty years ago, but now it rankles. He wants to say something, somehow explain that just because their time together will most likely be brief, Darcy is not less to him for it. But then Nari texts, "The servant just announced Hogun...don't worry, apparently unarmed."

Suddenly, Loki finds himself staring at a blank screen.

And then he hears Darcy's voice. "Hey, there, good chat?"

Loki tilts his head and manages a smile.

Grinning, she holds up a shopping bag triumphantly. "Lots o' underwear and socks. They'll wear stuff with holes in it if I don't get the basics for them."

Loki makes a mental note to buy Franz and Max some gifts that are actually fun, but smiles at Darcy - for real. She looks stunning. She's cut her hair again. It's a bob with shorter bangs across her forehead. There is a prominent streak of gray to one side she wanted to dye, but Loki convinced her not to. Loki thinks it's very exotic. The style looks very sleek and smart, and it's easy to manage. She's been called to so many radio and television shows in the last few weeks and it's a difficult style for show stylists to mangle.

Loki watches all Darcy's interviews. It amuses him how the shy girl with all the cogent observations is now not shy at all - but her observations have not lost their sharpness.

Standing with effort from the chair, he loops his arm with hers.

"Is that Fandral?" she says.

Loki looks up and sees Fandral about 70 paces away.

Darcy's nose wrinkles. "He did make a rather pathetic pass at me a long time ago - but he saved your life. I think we should say hi."

"Definitely," says Loki. He still hasn't discovered why Fandral rescued him.

Loki always believed Fandral to be a not particularly intelligent, shallow, would-be-ladies man, and altogether uninteresting. Yet when it counted, for whatever reason, Fandral had come to Loki's aid. He owes Fandral at least respect, and so, arm-in-arm he walks with Darcy towards Fandral and a display of shirts.

They're nearly there, but Fandral's back is to them and it's too crowded to call out. A large shopper steps in front of them obstructing their view. As said shopper walks away, Loki blinks. There is a man next to Fandral, dragging a hand down Fandral's back in a gesture that cannot be misconstrued for anything but intimate. Fandral turns his head to the side and smiles at his companion, and the look of adoration in his eyes is impossible to ignore.

Suddenly a lot of things make sense. In Asgard Fandral was always in the company of women but never was very successful at wooing them. It's a great joke about court. But Fandral never meant to be successful, had he?

"Oh," says Darcy, making no move to stop.

Loki spins them in the other direction.

"What?" Darcy says. And then she lowers her voice to a whisper. "Please don't tell me you're homophobic. I've read what Asgardians think but..."

"That's not it," Loki hisses.

Darcy draws to a halt. "We should go say hi."

"No. We will embarrass him," says Loki. "If he wanted us to know, he would tell us." Rubbing his temple, Loki says, "This sort of thing is not done in Asgard." Some homosexual acts are tolerated - and if a warrior feels the urge to rape a man or woman he's bested in battle, he is considered within his rights. But a romantic relationship, that is taboo.

"Don't tell me homosexuality doesn't exist there," says Darcy, her brows drawing together.

"Of course it exists," says Loki. "But it only happens behind closed doors...it isn't acknowledged." To do so would be dangerous.

"This isn't Asgard. We should say hi," says Darcy, her voice carrying. Loki looks to the side and sees Fandral stiffen. Fandral turns and sees Loki. He doesn't even acknowledge the man standing next to him. He just turns on his heel and walks quickly away, head bowed, breathing too heavily - because facing death is one thing, but being exposed as a man who loves other men? That is real fear.

"Fandral!" calls the man who'd been standing beside him.

"Please tell him I won't use it against him," says Loki. Once he would have.

The man's jaw drops, and then he races off after Fandral.

"Oh, no," says Darcy. "I didn't mean..."

"Of course you didn't," says Loki. "And it would have happened sooner or later."

Darcy stands stock still.

Pulling her gently, Loki says, "Come on, let's go home."

He tilts his head. Home. He likes the sound of that. But he's quiet for most of the trip.

x x x x

A little later, back at Darcy's flat, Loki looks over at Darcy wrapping Franz's and Max's gifts. "Your sons will not be happy that I'm here."

Franz and Max will be coming home soon. Darcy says that Loki's welcome to stay for the holiday and share her bed while her sons are in the house. Another thing that just wouldn't be done in Asgard. You were either married or you kept your sexual relationships completely under wraps.

Loki didn't just go to the cave for Baldur's death-in fact, his part in that was never proven. He went there for exposing all of Asgard's dirty laundry.

"I'm a grown up," says Darcy, not looking up from where she is pulling a pair of scissors along a ribbon. She releases it and the ribbon springs into a curl. "They can deal with it."

Picking up a piece of paper ribbon, he concentrates on the tip until it begins to smolder. He doesn't like the answer. Franz and Max will worry that he is using her - that Loki doesn't respect her because she is a human, younger, mortal-at least for the moment-and unmagical. He is troubled by his sons' perception of his relationship with Darcy. And bothered by Fandral's embarrassment and shame over his own relationship.

He looks at Darcy. She is staring busy, measuring out paper for a pair of socks she is about to wrap in a box that is far too large for them. She says it's to throw her boys off when they inspect the package. Her face is too pensive for the task. Every now and then he catches that pensive expression on her when she thinks he's not looking. Maybe she is more disturbed by the ambiguity of their relationship than she lets on.

He frowns at the ribbon curling in his hand. In his life he's had women he's used simply for physical pleasure, and he's had wives. He knows his feelings and which group Darcy belongs to.

"Let's get married," he says. As soon as he says it, he feels lighter. He loved Sigyn and Aggie, and he loves Darcy. And he likes being married. He does tend to attract chaos, and he likes having something that is emotionally steadying.

He tilts his head and looks at Darcy. Her eyes are wide, her mouth slightly parted in a way that makes her looks very young, and very innocent.

Asgardians will think he's absolutely insane; well they already think that, but more so now. He doesn't even have the excuse of pregnancy like Thor did. Although...He lifts an eyebrow. A baby, with Darcy.

He has a plan, a very tentative, probably unworkable plan to reclaim immortality for Thor and Fandral and grant it to Darcy and Jane. He cannot tell anyone about it now, not even Darcy. If word gets around, it will destroy every hope. As it is, hope for it to succeed is so small. And if it fails, which it most likely will...

A baby. A child. A being that he could look to and be reminded of her.

And to have Darcy now and know that she is his and no one else's, he wants that.

Darcy looks like she's gone into shock. But she always wanted commitment; her answer should be easy.

He smiles. "Well?"