Chapter Text
Tattooed
©MischiefsLady
Loki was standing at the window when Darcy quietly slipped into his bedroom. She hardly made a sound but he heard her come in just the same. His shoulders stiffened as she came nearer to him, the rustle of her dressing gown giving away her movements. She stopped a step or two behind him, knowing he was aware of her and waiting for him to speak.
He thought about the fact that she was now inadvertently tied to him. How foolish had it been to let her tag along with him and Fandral for a tour of Asgard’s pub houses. They’d gotten steadily sloshed throughout the night and at one point had lost Fandral to a buxom blonde. Then it was just the two of them and they had weaved drunkenly through the streets, laughing over the most ridiculous things.
He was sure he had never been so carefree in his entire life. And to think it was a mortal who had brought it out of him.
Eventually they had ended up down a darkened alley, her hand in his, their bodies tight against each other as they waited for a door to open. She had asked repeatedly what Asgard’s version of a shaman was and when he told her about the known Mystics of his home she had begged to see one. He never should have agreed.
Now he had a tattoo on his back. It was ancient Asgardian in design and ran from shoulder to shoulder. The meaning had become clear once he was able to use a projection of himself to view it. Honor. Protection. Unity. All three directly related to the woman standing behind him.
Darcy too, had a tattoo though hers was located on her right side, covering her ribcage. Her tattoo was done in the form of a dream catcher with three feathers hanging from the bottom of it. Upon each feather were small matching designs of his tattoo. On the net of the dream catcher, etched within her skin were two additional designs. Acceptance and Love. Neither he nor she had known what to make of their tattoos when they had woken up this afternoon and found them.
He vaguely remembered leaving the Mystic’s alleyway shop and making their way back to the palace. What followed came back to him in flashes of breathy moans, sensual movements, caressing hands and pleasure that made all previous sexual encounters pale in comparison. They had gotten marked and then they had, for want of better terms, sealed the newly formed bond between them.
After what seemed like ages, he spoke.
“You shouldn’t be here, Darcy.”
His voice was like velvet in the dark but sharp as the blades she knew he always carried on his person. She took in what she could see of him in the moonlight. Pale shoulders and smooth expanse of naked back was her view. He wore black cotton pajama bottoms and his longish hair hung loose from his head.
Darcy sighed internally. If she had any sort of semblance of self-preservation she would absolutely turn tail and run. This was Loki. She knew the things he’d done, even if he spent much of his time now trying to atone for his anger. She actually liked the mercurial man. He was often times moody but last night, watching him interact with Fandral and herself away from Thor and Jane and Odin and Sif and the others had been illuminating for her.
She had no real recollection of how they ended up at the Mystic’s place. Only remembered that she had been asking repeatedly about what they did. Receiving the tattoos was still a giant black space in her memory, but after? She could still feel the way his skin moved over hers, the way his hips rolled into her, taking her as his lips claimed her breath.
The point of coming to him tonight was that she recognized what he still wanted to fight. They were bound, by magic, by need, by something she could not accurately describe. The tattoos, she figured, were only symbols of how their odd friendship had developed over the last few years. Darcy acknowledged that she’d been in love with him for a while now. And the way they had come together last night was proof he felt something more than mere friendship for her too.
“I don’t belong anywhere else.”
Five simple words and Loki felt the weight of them settle on his shoulders. Honor. Protection. Unity. The kind of magic within these tattoos could never be undone without killing them both. Darcy Lewis, plucky research assistant, amusing friend and beautiful woman was his now to honor and protect and share his life; the tattoos as binding as any spoken marriage vow.
“You deserve better,” he replied, body stiffening as he felt the touch of her hands slide around his waist from behind. Darcy pressed herself up against him, resting her cheek between his shoulder blades and inhaling the warm, masculine scent of him. His tattoo twitched at her touch and he wondered briefly if hers had done the same.
“Silly man,” she breathed out softly and hugged him tighter.
Loki’s hands fisted at his sides. Silly? He wasn’t silly, simply trying to do the right thing for a change.
“I know there is no way to undo the magic that’s bound us together, Loki. And at this point I’m not interested in trying.”
What nonsense was this? Any female caught in this situation with him would be pleading to have the bond severed.
“You know not what you ask for, mortal.” Darcy snorted.
“Drop the haughty ‘I’m-A-God-And-You’re-Not’ routine. And I know exactly what I’m signing up for. Maybe you don’t know all that’s involved when it comes to an eternity with me.” Loki’s eyes closed momentarily and he took a steadying breath. Then he eased her arms from his waist and turned to face Darcy.
“Be serious. This magic that binds us is no laughing matter. You don’t know what I am, what I could do to you.”
Darcy waivered slightly seeing the unfiltered desperation on his face. This rawness of emotion was something she wasn’t sure he was completely capable of. But it didn’t change her mind. She already knew his secret, even if he thought she didn’t.
“Tell me?” An answer, if he gave it, that Loki knew they had the power to change his fate.
“No.” His voice offered no room for argument. Darcy set aside any lingering doubts on whether or not this was the right course of action. They were bound, damn it! And he had to move past this or they’d both suffer needlessly.
“Yes, Loki.” Anger flashed on his face. How dare she demand this of him? To show his Jotun side would be to scar her for life. He carried enough scars for the both of them.
“Pay attention, mortal. I. Will. Not. Tell. You.” He leaned forward slightly as his green eyes locked on to her blue ones. His flared with a fierceness, hers with defiance.
Darcy stepped even closer to him, the heat from his body washing over hers and causing her tattoo to tingle in a pleasurable way. Loki’s own tattoo prickled at her nearness, the sensation not at all unpalatable.
“Tell me, Loki. Tell me what burdens you.” Her hands reached out to touch him but he whirled away from her, stalking across the room.
“You have no notion of what you ask! You are bound to a god now, is that not enough for you?” She watched as the veins in his neck popped as he yelled at her and was surprised that her tattoo seemed to throb with the force of his emotional outburst as well.
“You don’t even have the intelligence to be afraid of me. I could destroy you in a single, crushing blow!” Loki was breathing heavy with the force of his words.
She said nothing, not sure what she could do to alleviate his pain. Loki stayed on the other side of the room watching her, waiting for the moment she would realize how screwed up their situation really was and then walk out the door. But she didn’t do that.
Instead she slowly made her way to his bed and pulled back the covers. She untied the knot at her waist, letting her dressing gown fall to the floor. Loki swallowed roughly at the site of her in a short, thin nightgown. His body responded readily to the sensual image before him and his tattoo thrummed with need. With a scowl he fought back his desire for the woman before him.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Had she been anyone else, the tone of his voice and the glare he was giving her would have turned her to stone.
“I am going to bed.”
“You have your own bed. Go there.” Loki almost winced at how childish he sounded.
“I told you already, I don’t belong anywhere else.” Darcy slid beneath the covers and turned on her side away from him. Though her tattoo hummed along with her body in anticipation of Loki’s touch, she knew he would not take her this night. He was going to fight what happened between them before accepting what was. She was okay with that for she already had a plan to help him accept the connection between them.
With a soft sigh, Darcy snuggled a little deeper into the blankets. Moments later she was asleep. Loki quietly walked around to stand next to her side of the bed. Her dark hair was spread over his pillow and his fingers ached to touch her. He wanted to tease her awake with his mouth. He could do it, he knew she would not turn away, but he would not. He watched her sleep for a long time, contemplating what in the name of Hel he was supposed to do next.