Chapter Text
The noise of the feast carries down the hall like an unwelcome wind, making Loki wince. Every hundred years they do this, and every hundred years it’s the same exercise in humiliation. He hates this night, hates this feast, hates this tradition. They are never there, the soulmate he is supposed to find. Each time he sits by himself, despising every second as fortune favors everyone but him. He has to watch the couples come together. Some are bold, some shy, but they come together regardless, sharing whispers, laughter, and a spot alongside each other at the massive trestle tables that line the room. Soulmates. He almost spits the word aloud.
He hates all of it.
It occurs to him that he can just turn around and walk back to his suite of rooms in the palace. His father won’t be best pleased, nor his mother, but escaping is so much more preferable than staying to hear the jeers and taunts of Thor’s friends. Loki sighs. Disappointing Odin is nothing, but disappointing his mother is something else entirely. She still has hope despite a thousand years passing without Loki finding the one creature in the nine realms he is meant to be with. For her he will do this, but he vows this is the last time. A weary, trying headache begins behind his eyes as he walks into the room.
Failure yet again, he thinks to himself as he glances about the great hall and doesn’t see the telltale glow of a waiting soulmate. Perhaps now he can convince his mother that it is futile and leave the party early. Except Thor is waving him over with his hammer, the weapon held aloft in one of his hands. There is no chance of quietly slipping away now. With a grimace and a sigh Loki picks his way across the room to where his brother and the warriors three sit at one of the long tables. It’s fine for them, they found their soulmates years ago. Fandral has two. It does give Loki some satisfaction that Thor had to go all the way to Midgard to find Jane Foster.
Very odd, Jane isn’t seated next to Thor as she usually does. Her chair is empty, but as Loki approaches he can see a half-eaten plate of food and full glass of wine sitting at her place. She’s obviously here, probably boring some poor person with a scientific theory at another table. He can’t be bothered to look.
“Loki!” Thor shouts as he nears the table. “Welcome brother! Perhaps this will be your year!”
Frowning as he takes a seat across from Thor, Loki wishes once again he was anywhere else. He wishes it even more when he can see the teasing light in Volstagg’s eyes.
“Thor,” he says with a brusque nod of greeting.
Fandral wraps an arm around each of his soulmates, eyeing Loki from his position at the table. “Yes, Loki. Perhaps this year the unfortunate man or woman will make an appearance.”
Volstagg snorts into his silver tankard, and Loki can hear the wheels turning in the larger man’s head, gathering up steam for an insult. Loki’s tempted to magick the mead to vinegar. Before that can happen Jane reappears, looking flustered. She lays a hand on Thor’s shoulder and he looks up at her expectantly.
“I can’t find her anywhere,” she tells him with a concerned frown. “I checked her rooms, the great hall, the solarium, even the kitchens. She’s nowhere.”
It’s then that Loki notices another chair sitting empty next to Jane’s. “Who is nowhere?” he asks. Not that he particularly cares, but the question switches the Idiots Three onto another track and off of his lack of a soulmate.
It’s Thor who answers, brow furrowed. “Darcy Lewis. Jane’s friend.” Turning back to Jane, he lays a hand on top of hers on his shoulder. “Have you tried the gardens?”
She stands up a bit straighter. “No. That’s a good idea though. I’ll go right now.”
To everyone’s surprise, even his own, Loki speaks up. “Stay. I’ll look for her.”
“But you don’t know what she looks like.” Jane eyes him dubiously. “I should go, really. She’s my friend.”
“He’s perfectly capable of finding her. You should sit down, enjoy the party,” Fandral suggests. “Thor has been moping without you. Just show Loki a picture of her and be done with it.”
Jane pauses, then turns to Loki. “Are you sure?”
She’s the one who looks unsure, Loki notices, and after the reputation he’s gained in the past ten years it’s no wonder. He’s not exactly a model citizen. However, it’s an opportunity to get away from this ridiculous feast, and he intends to take it.
“Allow me. I will find her and return her unharmed. You have my word.”
“There,” Volstagg says in a voice that conveys the problem is solved. “We all know he’s going. He’d be a fool to do anything to the girl. Just show him the picture and we can all get back to the food.”
“I…” Jane looks at Thor, his friends, and finally Loki. “Fine. Let me get my phone out of my bag.”
It’s the work of a moment, and there in front of him is the image of a laughing girl on the screen of Jane’s phone. She’s attractive, he notes, with thick chestnut hair and striking blue eyes. That’s not what catches his attention, though. There is something about her. Something he can’t put his finger on, but feels…important.
“I won’t be long. Having doubles is useful in more ways than one.” Loki wishes he could have sent a double to this wretched gathering, but Frigga would have known immediately. She taught him that particular trick. This Darcy person has given him a perfectly good excuse to leave. He’ll have to thank her when he finds her.
Jane sighs, still looking dubious, but acquiesces. “Tell her Volstagg is drinking all the good mead. That will get her moving.”
Loki nods and leaves. The moment he’s in the hall and the noise is behind him he relaxes. It’s a short walk to the gardens. He makes his way out of the palace and past a line of perfectly trimmed hedges, then creates several doubles and sends them in all directions to look. It takes less than five minutes to spot the woman sitting on a marble bench under a willow tree.
She’s not doing anything particularly remarkable, just enjoying the evening air, but Loki’s entire world tilts on its axis. Blue eyes meet his, lush lips part in surprise, and a small gasp lingers in the air as they stare at each other. Loki can’t believe what he’s seeing. A golden glow surrounds her from head to toe, illuminating her skin and turning her hair into a halo. Judging by her reaction she can’t believe what she’s seeing either.
Loki’s soulmate, for that is absolutely what she is, manages to regain her composure first. “You’re glowing violet,” she says in a voice barely above a whisper.
He swallows, and his own voice is slightly hoarse when he speaks. “Am I?”
Darcy nods. “Yes.” His soulmate appears to be once again at a loss for words. Thank the gods he manages to find some.
“Yellow,” he states, waving a hand at her person. Eloquent, he thinks sarcastically. He’s certainly earning that silver tongued reputation today. “Well, more of a golden, actually. It’s rather lovely.”
More than lovely, if he’s being fully honest with himself. The pull to be near her is almost unbearable and he steps closer gauging her reaction. She tilts her head, looking him over carefully.
“You’re Loki,” she finally says. “You nearly killed me in New Mexico, you know.”
“I’m very sorry,” he replies lamely. “New Mexico was…regrettable.”
“That’s a very interesting way to describe trying to murder your brother and the rest of us with a fire breathing robot.”
She has him at a disadvantage. Due to his past actions she knows far more about him than he does about her. Loki doesn’t like being at a disadvantage. He needs to tip the scales in his favor, quickly. But how?
“You didn’t care for the party?” he inquires, changing the subject.
Darcy presses her lips together. “You mean the party where ten different Asgardian men tried to get all up in my skirt? No I did not. Hence hiding in a dark garden. What’s your excuse?”
“I was looking for you,” Loki replies. “Jane Foster seemed quite concerned by your absence.”
“So she sent the God of Mischief to find me?” the girl asks incredulously. “That feels very un-Jane.”
“Nevertheless, it’s what happened, and here I am.” Loki takes another step closer, he can’t help it. Everything about her is drawing him in. He hopes to the Nine that she is feeling something similar despite everything she knows about him.
For a moment Darcy says nothing, then she stands. “So are we supposed to be getting back then, or?”
“Or?” There’s something like hope in those two small letters.
“Not,” she finishes. “I’d prefer option number two if possible. That place was not my scene at all.”
A smile flits across his face. “What a coincidence. It wasn’t mine either. Shall we walk? There’s a charming folly not that far from here. It has its own private gardens.”
“Charming follies in private gardens, eh? Do I look like a private garden type of girl?”
She looks like the first possibility of a happy future he’s ever seen, but it would never do to say that. Yet, anyway. Best to ease into it. “Maybe it’s me who prefers the private garden to the public one. Have you considered that?”
“I can see it. You definitely look like a private garden kind of guy,” she says, lips turning up into a smile. “Okay. Lead on, God of Mischief. Let’s see this garden. And the folly.” They walk in silence for a few heartbeats and then she says, “So this is all crazy and unexpected. Are you kind of reeling in shock right now? Please say yes. I’d hate to be alone on that.”
He laughs, the sound coming out more like a huff. “Indeed. Reeling in shock is a very apt way of putting it, and unexpected to say the very least.”
Darcy cocks her head, looking up at him. The golden glow bathes her every movement in its light. “Are you sorry you came to find me?”
“Are you?” he counters.
“No.” She bites on her full bottom lip in a way that is quite intriguing. He’d like to explore it further…perhaps in the folly. “This is so weird, though. Out of all the men in all the realms, somehow it’s the guy who tried to take over New York City.”
Loki shrugs with his best show of nonchalance. “That was also regrettable. Although give credit where credit is due. It was the world I was after, not just one meager Misgardian city.”
She laughs at this, hair bouncing as she shakes her head. “I should probably find that alarming.”
“And do you?”
“Absolutely. I’m about to run screaming. Can’t you tell?”
“Shall I point the way to the bifrost?” Loki asks dryly.
Darcy grins at that. “I don’t know. Let’s see how fancy this folly is, and I’ll tell you.”
They walk on for a bit, gravel crunching under their feet as the pathway widens before them. The folly was still a few minutes away, and they pass a myriad of flower beds and the hedge maze before Loki speaks again.
“Have you been to Asgard before?”
“Once. You were imprisoned in the dungeons.”
“Ah.” Of course he was in the dungeons. His luck is truly tragic. “What do you think of it?”
Now it was her turn to shrug. “Ostentatious beyond belief.”
His lips twitch. “My father’s taste in architecture is…”
“Hideous?” she offers and Loki laughs in a way that surprises even him. Oh he likes her.
“I was going to say questionable, but hideous is far more accurate.”
“Hopefully your mother designed the folly, or I really might run screaming.”
“As it happens, I did. And the garden as well,” he replies. “So any architectural recriminations shall fall squarely at my feet.”
“Wait.” She stops walking. “You design gardens? Really? World domination and gardening? Who are you, Martha Stewart? Can you bake a brioche too?”
“Alas. I must admit I cannot. My talents rest elsewhere.” Speaking of talents, Loki remembers he has doubles wandering around and recalls them. He has no idea how she’d react to multiples of himself suddenly appearing around a garden path, best to be safe.
They begin walking again. It’s getting darker and darker the further they go. The braziers here are unlit. He waves his hand and the ones nearest to them light.
“Neat trick,” she says. “What else can you do?”
Loki flicks his fingers and a sudden wind blows her hair back off her shoulders and whips at the skirt of her dress. She just glances up at him with an expression that says that’s it? Clearly she’s not easy to impress. With another flick of his fingers green magic surrounds her, causing her blue gown to turn deep forest green.
“How’s that?” he asks. “Or shall I do more?”
“If you’re considering turning my underwear green I have to warn you that they already are. So it would be a total waste of good magic.”
“They’re black at the moment,” he replies and she stares at him, mouth open in disbelief.
“No they aren’t.”
“Oh yes. I assure you, they are.”
“That’s not…” Darcy’s sentence halts as she shakes her head finally asking, “Are you normally like this?”
“No, I’m normally far worse,” he answers and she laughs. He’s starting to recover from the shock and his brain is ticking away, working out just what would appeal to her most. She has a quick sense of humor; this he can work with. “We already discussed my penchant for world domination.”
“And fire breathing robots,” she adds. “Don’t forget those.”
“You make it sound as if I sent a fleet of them.”
“Sorry.” Darcy rolls her eyes. “Wouldn’t want to accuse a man wearing an elaborate leather tunic with gold trim of overkill.”
Loki glances down at her with one eyebrow quirked slyly. “Shall I take it off?”
Another peal of laughter rings out as she looks up into his smirk with a brilliant smile. “What, on the first date? Who knew the God of Mischief was so easy.”
“Easy,” he scoffs, “is hardly something I’ve been accused of before.”
“What a coincidence. Me either.”
“How unfortunate for me,” he replies.
“I’ve heard patience is a virtue.” Her tone is prim, but her eyes are dancing behind a fringe of dark lashes.
“Ah yes, and I’m terribly virtuous as my past actions have more than proven.” He runs his gaze over her slowly, lingering on her lips. She licks them, and he knows he’s winning. “I suspect your patience will wear thin before mine does.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Care to wager on it?”
She lifts her chin, eyes locked on his. “What’s the prize?”
“Hadn’t you rather ask about the odds? Betting against the God of Mischief seems inadvisable.”
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Darcy can’t believe this is happening. She’s flirting with Thor’s slightly reformed, probably also still slightly homicidal, brother. Her soulmate no less. It feels like playing with fire, but she can’t help herself. The way he’s looking at her has her far more hot and bothered than she’d admit. And there’s no way she’s taking this bet. The odds are definitely not in her favor if he keeps looking at her like that.
God. Soulmates with Loki. Could her night get any weirder? Darcy thinks not. He’s still waiting for a response, and she can’t think of one that won’t get her into trouble. Trouble sounds so good though. Exactly how far away is this folly? Close, she hopes.
“Cat got your tongue?” he asks teasingly.
“My tongue is just fine, thank you.” And she has plans for it later, but she’s not telling him that.
He stops, and gestures towards a small path leading off of the main one. “We’re here. You’ll have to let me know if I measure up to your expectations.”
“With the gardens, the folly, or something else?” Yep, she’s definitely playing with fire and she doesn’t care.
“Something else? And just what would that be?”
“Oh I’m sure you’ll figure it out, God of Mischief,” she responds breezily. “I have no doubt of that.”
The gardens are gorgeous. Darcy can see that even with them cloaked in the veil of night. Loki waves his hand and small metal sconces light from hidden spots in the flower beds illuminating the white night-blooming flowers. Jasmine, moonflower, and nocturnum orchids spill out onto the gravel pathways and climb the trellises. It’s magical, and she turns around in a small circle taking it all in. The folly is at the far end of the garden, constructed of glowing alabaster and lit up in the same way.
“Loki, this is incredible,” she tells him. “I’ve never seen anything like it. It’s beautiful beyond belief. The flowers, the structures, just wow.”
“Thank you. It’s been…cathartic.”
“I bet. If it’s any consolation I’m way more impressed by this than I would have been by world domination.” Darcy meets his gaze and sees something there that makes her heart ache for him. “Show me the folly?”
“It would be my pleasure.” He offers her his arm in a princely gesture that might have looked ridiculous had anyone else done it. Not him, though. Darcy feels like she’s fallen into a fairytale or a romance novel as she takes it and he leads her into the lovely little building.
It’s even prettier inside, candles everywhere flickering and showing off the elegant carvings on the pillars. She's stock still with awe. “You really designed this?”
“Well it certainly wasn’t Thor,” he says, and she smiles.
“Or Odin,” she adds. “We’ve already seen what that looks like. So, God of Mischief, you got me all the way out here in your private garden. What now?”
If the look he gives her is any indication his ‘what now’ involves something positively wicked. Darcy finds she’s not opposed. The soulmate draw is strong, but that’s not all of it. He’s gorgeous, black hair flowing down to his shoulders, and lithe frame lit up by the violet soul-glow shining around him. She would have been attracted to him regardless of their bond. Granted she never would have acted on it because Jane would have killed her, but she still would have wanted him. Now Jane can’t kill her. Darcy has a perfectly reasonable excuse for her attraction.
“I’m almost afraid to ask what’s going through your head right now,” he says, folding his arms across his chest.
“Jane killing me,” she replies. He blinks in surprise. Whatever he thought it might be, it wasn’t that.
“Jane Foster? Why should she kill you?”
“Oh you know, because of all the fairly disreputable things I’m thinking about you right now. I’m pretty sure she wouldn't approve. Not that it matters. There’s nothing she can do about it since you're my soulmate.”
She can actually see him working through her words and trying to decide which thing to comment on first. Finally he raises an eyebrow and asks, “How disreputable?”
Darcy steps closer to him, the bond humming in satisfaction. “A lady never tells, Loki. I would think a prince would know that.” Her gaze flits over his face, getting snagged on his lips for far too long.
His green eyes blaze with a hectic light as he leans in towards her. “You enjoy walking into danger, don’t you?”
“Danger, schmanger,” she responds. “I didn’t come to Asgard for the architecture, as we’ve already covered.”
“And what then, did you come here for?”
Darcy gives him a siren’s smile. ”Clearly trysts in a folly with the God of Mischief. As long as he’s also into that. Are you?”
He’s on her in an instant, capturing her mouth with his. Darcy’s well aware the first skin-on-skin contact between soulmates is supposed to be something special, but she’s wholly unprepared for the actuality. Need floods her body, crackling like electricity, every synapse firing off at once as his lips move over hers. Their bond thrums, gold and violet light flowing into one another and coating the pale stone walls in a wash of color. Loki’s hand is pressed firmly against the small of her back holding her flush against his body. He nips her bottom lip and she moans.
Then they’re moving. He walks her backwards until her back is up against a wall and slides one of his legs between hers. She parts her lips and his tongue slips in her mouth, flicking over hers in a way that makes her lungs stutter in her chest.
He’s hers. Hers. And she is his. She always has been his, Darcy realizes with wonder.
He must be feeling something similar, because he whispers against her lips, “I have waited centuries for you. Lifetimes.”
“I’m here now, and I’m all yours,” she says and he growls. The sounds ricochets through her body like lightning, burning away everything but the thought of him. God she wants him everywhere. Her heartbeat sounds in her ears, pure need urging her to pull him closer, hold him tighter.
When he pulls back instead she almost cries out with the loss. He bows his head so it’s touching hers, and makes a sound of utter impatience. “What? What could you possibly want?”
Darcy’s brow wrinkles in confusion. “You? I thought that was pretty clear.”
“No,” he replies, each word dripping with annoyance. “Not you, them.”
She manages to pull herself together enough to lean around his shoulder only to find the faces of Jane, Thor, and the assembled group of Thor’s friends staring at them in blatant shock. Fandral’s jaw is on the floor, Jane looks like she’s wavering between stunned silence and having far too much to say, and Thor…well Thor actually looks sort of pleased and hopeful under his surprise.
“This,” Darcy says, addressing Jane directly, “is not what it looks like.”
“Really? Because it looks like you’re out here with your tongue halfway down the throat of Thor’s criminal brother,” Jane snaps back. “Darcy, what are you thinking? Remember New Mexico??? And you!” Her eyes move to Loki. “I sent you out here to find her, not impregnate her. Have you both lost your minds?”
“He’s my soulmate,” Darcy says simply. “My soulmate, Jane. Why are you even out here?”
“Because you didn’t come back. I thought maybe he murdered you for fun.”
“Well as you can see, I am not murdered.”
“No, clearly not.” Jane shakes her head. “Soulmates? Really?”
“By the nine,” Volstagg breathes, staring at the pair with open amazement. “After all this time.”
“Loki, is this true?” Thor demands. “Darcy is your soulmate?”
Loki sighs in exasperation. “Yes, Thor, she is my soulmate. Unlike Fandral, I don’t make a habit of bedding strange mortals six minutes after we meet.”
“Wait, you were bedding me? In what bed exactly?” Darcy asks. She looks pointedly around the folly which contains exactly zero beds, just a whole lot of alabaster wall.
“Mine, preferably.” He glances over at the assembled company and hisses, “Clearly that isn’t happening now.”
“How exactly?” Darcy tilts her head quizzically. “Were you going to magick it here?”
“No, I was going to magick us there.”
She is still processing this information when a new voice arrives on the scene.
“Loki?” Darcy’s eyes widen in surprise as Frigga pushes past Volstagg to enter the folly. “Ah.” Understanding paints her tone.
“Mother,” he says stiffly.
She merely smiles. “Come back to the feast, Thor. There is nothing to keep any of you here. Darcy Lewis is safe, and it’s not every day that my son finds his soulmate.”
Thor looks as if he’s about to protest, but Jane shakes her head at him. “As much as I think leaving the two of them alone is a terrible idea that will result in ponies, we should probably listen to your mother.”
They all shuffle out, chastised, and Darcy watches them go. “Well,” she says, wondering how much time in the dungeons she’ll get if she poisons all of them except Frigga for the interruption. “That happened.”
“Lamentably,” Loki replies, and she drops her head against his chest.
“What now? Because that thing you said about not bedding mortals six minutes after you meet them is making me wonder if maybe we’re um…”
“Moving too fast?” he finishes.
She nods, head still leaned against him, the scent of leather and nocturnum orchids filling her senses. “Not that I was opposed. I was very, very not opposed. I’m sure that was obvious.”
“Quite,” he replies succinctly, and Darcy giggles.
“I’d be embarrassed but we both know I wasn’t the only one, Mr. Magicking-Us-to-Your-Bed. Exactly how does that work?”
He hooks a finger under her chin and tips her face up so she’s trapped in his gaze. “If you hadn’t just pointed out we should wait before I take you to bed, I’d show you. However, I suspect taking you there now would end in you screaming my name until the entire population of Asgard knows you’re mine.”
Darcy licks her lips, well aware that he’s tracking the tiny movement intently. “That um, that is actually kind of an incentive. How do you get away with saying this stuff and not sounding ridiculous?”
He smirks. “A thousand years of practice.”
She thinks of how many lovers a person might have in a thousand years and fights back a wince. She might just poison all of them too. “That sounds like a lot of practice. Should I be worried?”
“They ceased to exist the moment I saw you,” Loki says in a voice that sends a shiver through her body.
A change of subject might be smart. Darcy clears her throat and asks, “So, since we’re both trying to be on our best behavior right now, what would you suggest we do?”
“You might want to decide as best behavior is something I barely have a passing acquaintance with.”
“Well, I haven’t eaten yet. Have you? And I think the feast would be a lot less aggravating with my soulmate next to me.” He purses his lips, and she stretches up on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “You could show me off victoriously. You know you want to do that.”
There’s a pause as he considers. The next thing Darcy knows she’s pulled tight against his body and the world goes blurry. She’s barely had time to gasp before they appear directly in the middle of the great hall, Loki’s arms still locked around her. Her head swivels, taking in the room full of people as her stunned brain tries to catch up.
“Was that quite alright?” he asks. “I thought perhaps this would be quicker than walking.”
“No you didn’t,” she surmises. “You thought this would be the least subtle way to tell everyone that I’m taken.”
He doesn’t answer but she can tell by his smug expression that her guess is correct. He steers her across the room and to the table Jane is seated at with Thor, taking their own seats next to each other. The group greets them, still looking gobsmacked at the revelation that Loki has a soulmate and that it’s Jane’s mortal best friend. Hogun looks like he actually wants to say something for once, but can’t decide what that thing is. Fandral doesn’t seem to have that problem, unfortunately.
“Well, well, if it isn’t Loki and his long-awaited soulmate gracing us with their presence. That was certainly fast, Loki. Hopefully Ms. Lewis isn’t disappointed with your performance.”
Darcy turns to face him, wondering just how much trouble she’d get in if she strangles him in the middle of dinner, and decides it would probably be worth it regardless. Before she can answer Loki handles it by neatly tipping Fandral’s tankard of mead directly into his lap using magic. Fandral jumps up with an exclamation of disgust and begins mopping himself off with a voluminous linen napkin. Darcy just catches the flash of amused satisfaction on Loki’s face before he raises a glass of wine and toasts Fandral.
“It must be such a trial to be so clumsy,” he says. “However do you cope, Fandral?”
She barely smothers a laugh. “Yes, Fandral. Have you considered seeing a healer to get help for the issue? Maybe there’s something that can be done about it. Anyway, it’s not our fault a gaggle of fools with horrendous timing decided to show up just when things were getting good. I fully intend to remedy the situation. Trust me.”
“The two of you look happy,” Volstagg remarks between mouthfuls of food. “It’s good to see. We began to despair that Loki would never find the right one.”
“I’m lucky he was patient,” Darcy tells him. “In fact, I think I’m kind of lucky in general.”
A warm hand covers her knee under the table, and she gives Loki a sidelong glance. He meets it with a smile she suspects not many people see.
“I owe you a debt of thanks,” he says to Jane. “I may have been waiting far longer had you not brought Darcy to Asgard for the occasion.”
Jane looks caught between saying ‘your welcome’ and dragging Darcy back to Earth with her. Darcy makes a face at her that lets her know the second option is a no-go.
“I’m…glad…you found each other,” Jane finally says. “Although if you hurt her, Loki, I will ruin your life in ways even you aren’t imaginative enough to comprehend.”
“Your soulmate certainly is bloodthirsty,” Loki says to Thor. “I’m impressed.”
“Is Thor going to threaten me now?” Darcy asks, and Thor nearly chokes on his food.
“Of course not, Darcy. I’m only relieved you are here to keep my brother in check in the future.”
She lifts her wine glass and takes a sip. “Who said I had any intention of keeping him in check? I might just have a penchant for bad boys.”
Jane groans. “She does. Which is why I was trying to prevent her from meeting your brother. Of course, I didn’t know they were soulmates.”
“Oh well.” Darcy shrugs. “Too late now. I found him and I’m keeping him.”
“Are you?” Loki asks. “How very fortuitous for me.”
“Me too,” she says. The hand on her knee squeezes, and she moves her leg so it’s brushing his.
Hogun finally seems to find his tongue. “Congratulations. It would seem the match is a good one. I, for one, am happy for you, Loki. You as well, Darcy.”
Loki nods at him. “Thank you.”
Darcy smiles at Hogun in appreciation. Finally. Someone being nice and not dumbfounded or rude. She turns to Loki with a brilliant smile. “How many minutes has it been?”
“Thirty-two,” he replies, answering her smile with a roguish grin that says he knows exactly where she’s going with this, but he plays along anyway. “Why do you ask?”
“So we can finish what got interrupted earlier,” she says, and Volstagg’s fork hits his plate with a clatter. “I think thirty-two minutes is more than enough time for soulmates before doing the whole bedding thing, don’t you?”
The hand on her knee moves higher, Loki’s thumb now making distracting circles on the skin of her inner thigh. “Stairs or magic?” he asks smoothly, ignoring the looks they’re getting from everyone at the table.
Oh they are going to be so much trouble together. So much. Darcy can’t wait.