Hey there everyone, I hope you are all doing well!
This will be my first try at a multi-chapter story since I usually tend to only write drabbles and short cuts. And a drabble is in fact what really made me write this whole thing.

A couple of months ago I posted a piece called 'Waiting for you' which was set in an AU, where Loki was forced to marry Sif and has to let go of Darcy - and many of the reviewers found it quite unfair that Darcy has to watch Loki be married. Anyway, I desperately wanted to write a sequel to this and do Darcy justice but I ended up having like a hundred ideas of what I wanted to turn into a written piece. So, instead of leaving out some ideas in favour of two drabbles, I decided to write them all down, put them together and post it as a whole story as is.

The outline of this story is completely finished, all I need to do is write it down. I have eight chapters planned and since it is WIP, I can't promise regular updates - but I will try!

This prologue is pretty much 'Waiting For You' and I added a little bit of extra to make it the first chapter for all those, who haven't read the original piece.


Don't want to let you down
But I am hell bound
Though this is all for you
Don't want to hide the truth
Imagine Dragons - Demons

The grand hall is crowded, much more filled than any other day of the year. The realm eternal celebrates the wedding of the youngest offspring of Odin and offers all its glory and glamour to those invited. Accompanied by the applaud of the guests, the newlywed couple finishes its first dance and they part for a short moment, only to find themselves new partners to dance and to chat.

She knows he's walking straight towards her. Her eyes glide down her silken dress, in the shade of freshly cut fir needles, inappropriately low-cut on her back, slits up to her thighs, yet it is long enough for the hem to touch the marble floor. Many have complimented her on it, the colour suited her, they said. But only he knows who she is wearing it for.

"May I ask the lady to do me the honour of a dance?", Loki asks gallantly, one hand behind his back, the other stretched out towards her.

"You may, my Prince.", Darcy replies and as their hands touch, a searing heat sinks into her skin.

He takes her into his arms, his grip firm on her back, holding her by the hand as they spin to the sweet music of the orchestra.

"I was not entirely sure you would come.", he says, his voice oddly detached.

Darcy looks over his shoulder, ignoring the way his eyes try to drill into her gaze. "How could I miss such a splendid celebration? After all, two of my closest friends are now happily married." She sounds far more bitter than she allows herself as she answers his glance. "I congratulate you and Sif on your happy union."

His Adam's apple dances in his throat and his arched brows furrow. His eyes dart to the left and to the right and he lowers his voice as he says: "You know I did not choose this. Nor did she."

Darcy swallows and her steps change from light to heavy. "But you did not oppose, either. And why would you, after all? Sif longs for the one brother who happens to be taken and instead gets the other who, too, is going to be a king one day. And you have found yourself a strong, beautiful queen.", she hisses.

Her words aim to hurt and do not miss their target. His temples twitch at her words and his hand clutches hers tightly. Without a warning he draws her closer to his chest and the hand on her back secures her in his arms. "You know neither Sif nor I wanted this. And you out of all should know where my heart truly lies."

They are now dancing closer to the slowing rhythm of the music and Darcy has to stretch her neck to look into his eyes. But she wouldn't want to look any other way.

"And now?", she whispers brokenly. "What am I supposed to do now? Am I supposed to find comfort in your avowal of love? To be relieved because I know you are trapped in a political marriage with someone who doesn't want you? To know you are lost to me for all eternity?" Tears find their way out of her eyes and she angrily lowers her gaze. She doesn't want him to see her cry, to see her weep for him.

He presses his head against hers, his cheek resting against her temple and his lips streak the shell of her ear and for one moment, there is no-one else in the room but them. "Don't you ever again think that I am lost to you. Do you hear me?" His tone is full of wrath and Darcy knows he is not angry with her but with his fate that he has to accept. "I am yours as much as you are mine, no matter who might be by my side. I will always want you." His words are delicious, soothing the bitter sting of jealousy and rejection she has felt.

But it is not enough. "I don't want to be your mistress, your affair, whatever. I don't want stolen looks, hidden kisses. Holding your hand should not be forbidden nor should I have to hide how much I burn for you." She pulls back her head and her sad eyes lock with his.

Loki shakes his head. "I know you don't. And I would never ask you to." But in his look, she can see he desperately wants to.

"I would wait for you until the end of days, to be your beloved. I want you fully, truly, utterly. And I know I cannot have it that way." With a heavy heart, she lets go of his hands and frees herself from his grasp. His hands follow her like a magnet follows another and sorrow deeply sinks into his traits. "There will never be anyone else for me until the very day of my death. But as long as you are bound to her, we cannot be."

With these words, Darcy turns around and rushes to the door of the hall, the sound of the rustling fabric of her gown her only company.

The next day a present is sent to her, no sender is noted on the package. With wonder, Darcy takes it out of the hand of the messenger and inside the safe walls of her home, she unwraps the paper the box is folded in. Because of the shimmering golden light the gift emits, she knows exactly what has been sent to her. One of Iðunn's apples, the gift of immortality, gently placed on an emerald cushion, in the same shade of her dress of last night. A little note is placed inside the box, next to the shimmery fruit and her heart skips a beat when she recognizes the elegant handwriting.

To make sure you will still be there when the end of days has come.
One day, your waiting shall be over.

No signature is needed for Darcy knows who has sent her this. She presses the note to her heart and takes a deep breath. One day, your waiting shall be over. She can hardly wait for this day to come.

"So, you basically have no idea who might have send this? No message, no-one signed it?"

It is hard to avoid Jane's glare as Darcy packs another book into the moving box at her feet.

Nervously, she gnaws at her bottom lip. "Nope, no signature." She chirps with false honesty. As good as Jane may be at astrophysics, she is even better at spotting a lie which forces Darcy to stick to the truth as closely as possible – and there had been no signature, indeed.

Jane lets out a huff and proceed to close another box with a long stripe of tape.

"Did you eat it already?"

Darcy replies with a shake of her head and points to an elegantly wrapped box that is still sitting on the shelf atop her bed where the precious fruit still waits. She lifts her head to answer Jane's gaze. "I was kind of wondering whether, well, I mean, since I won't be the only one to join the immortality club soon..." This is way harder than planned, she thinks and looks at her friend, hoping for her to finish the sentence.

A kind smiles tugs at Jane's lips. "You want us to partake the fruit together?"

Again, Darcy's teeth tend to her lip. "Well... yeah. I mean, I never ate an alien power fruit and I don't even know what is going to happen and I just don't want to freak out all by myself..."

Jane's smile widens at Darcy's clumsy words. "I guess that will be possible." She winks at her and again it seems to Darcy like Jane is somehow the older sister she never had – annoying as hell sometimes but always the only one to go that far with her, even if it includes becoming immortal.

With a sigh, Jane starts to empty Darcy's vast collection of shelves chuck full of books.

"And you are sure you want to take all that with you? It's not like there are no books in Asgard!"

Darcy nods. "Yeah, I can't leave them." A little grin spreads across her face. "And I need something to kill time while are going to be occupied and doing a Kate Middleton job in the everlasting realm!"

"Eternal. Eternal realm." Jane corrects with a frown.


"And even though my 'job' may be very stressing and fulfilling, I will still find time for you." The astrophysicist adds with a tender smile. "Promise!"

Darcy chuckles. "Yeah, there might be something else that will be quite 'fulfilling' after your wedding, if you get my drift."

The cherry colour that spreads across Jane's face is enough of a response.

To Darcy's great surprise, Jane doesn't change the subject as she is wont to do whenever Darcy teases her about her upcoming marriage.

She gently places the collection of poems by Emily Dickinson in the already stuffed box and sighs. "I really miss him." There is a sadness in Jane's voice that makes Darcy want to shut her big trap and take back what she had said before.

"You'll see him soon. And then you're going to have a whole eternity to be annoyed by him."

Jane nods thoughtfully. "I know. And I also know how silly it sounds, given that it is only days until I will see him again. But still... It has only been weeks and – I just miss him, you know?"

A knot forms in Darcy's throat that makes it hard to swallow. Yeah, I know, she thinks and for a tiny second, her mind drifts off to light green eyes, elegant hands and a pair of thin lips parting to reveal a grin that would always render her silent.

Luckily, Jane doesn't seem to notice. She sighs and a silly laugh escapes her mouth. "Oh god, I can't believe I'm turning into one of those women!"

Her voice pulls Darcy out of her musing and she manages to produce a half-hearted chiding smile. "You are forgiven."

Notes: The songs I take the quotes from are usually the ones I listen to while writing. Thank you to the wonderful Goddess Of Art for introducing me to 'Imagine Dragons'. And for all of you who have never heard of The Goddess Of Art - go and read her amazing piece 'Ink and Parchment'. There is not enough space here to give her work enough praise.

The title of this piece is inspired by a quote from Salman Rushdie's 'The Moor's Last Sigh'.

Feel free to leave a review telling me whether you liked the idea, whether you liked the chapter - or not!