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Loki was deep into his third cup of mead when Brunnhilde sat next to him, her own tankard full. She looked at Loki, giving him a knowing look, which soured his mood even more, but she stayed silent, drinking with a slight hum low in her throat. Loki found it annoying, but she was King and he had sworn loyalty to her. He didn’t want to piss her off when she obviously had something she wanted to say.
Besides, as good a fighter as he was, she had been a Valkyrie. She could and probably would kick his arse if he voiced his irritation.
Finally, she set her tankard down. “You’ve got a secret,” she said in a smug tone of voice. He cast a glance at Darcy, who was with Jane and Thor off to the side, and then he felt a not-so-gentle punch in the arm. “You have a thing for Jane’s friend.”
“Her name is Darcy,” Loki said, taking another sip of his mead.
“You like her,” Brunnhilde said matter-of-factly before turning back to her mead. “Don’t make my mistake.”
Loki looked at her, slightly intrigued. “And what mistake have you made, Your Highness?”
“Call me Brunnhilde,” she said. “After what you went through at Thanos’s hands and being brought back when things were reversed, and bringing our people to earth safely? You have my respect.” She sobered slightly. “I’ve been in love. Twice, actually. My first love sacrificed herself to save me from Hela’s attack that cost the lives of most of my sisters, before you or Thor were even specks in your fathers eyes. I never told her enough how I felt, and losing her sent me on the path of being the drunkard I was on Sakaar.”
Loki nodded. He had spent more time on Sakaar then his brother had, and he had studied Brunhilde far longer, trying to decide if she could be a pawn or a partner. “And your second love?”
Brunnhilde smiled softly. “Carol Danvers. I made sure once I knew how I felt about her and was assured she felt the same I told her how I felt as often as I could, even when we were apart. Now she’s on Earth again and we’re making up for lost time.”
“More information than I needed to know,” Loki murmured before taking a drink, earning him a hard punch in the arm and some spilled mead on his suit.
“We do more than just that,” Brunnhilde said. “But...Darcy is not an Asgardian. Thor will probably have a long time with Jane because she was touched by the Aether and that changed her, but you won’t have as much time with Darcy. Make the most of it.” Brunnhilde clapped him on the shoulder and stood up, and Loki watched her head over to Darcy, Jane and Thor before he turned back to his drink and finished it off, signaling for another tankard.
He...cared. Oh, who was he kidding? As he had spent time in New York with his brother and Jane he had grown to love Darcy. She was spunky and fierce. She wasn’t afraid of him, and she didn’t hate him for his past. She was a good friend.
But did she want more from him? Did she want his love, his affection? She probably deserved better than him, but...he loved her. And making any change to their friendship would probably just cause him to lose her faster, because there was no way she could love a man such as him, even with the changes and growth he had gone though.
He could never be that lucky.
---
He had forgotten how many tankards of mead he had gone through when he felt himself being lifted up from his seat and manhandled by two people to a standing position. He wasn’t so drunk he couldn’t walk, but he couldn’t walk well and he had the feeling the people manhandling him knew that and were taking him to his rooms in New Asgard. As King, Brunhilde had the best set of rooms, but his own set as a member of the Asgaridan royal family weren’t that bad, either. His mattress was soft, at least, and eventually he was being laid down on it.
“Go back to Jane, Big Guy. I’ll take care of him.”
“He does not deserve you, Darcy Lewis.”
“Yes he does. And whether he wants me or not, he’s got me.”
“You do indeed care greatly for him, don’t you?”
“I do. I just wish he’d notice that.”
“I do,” Loki said, and he heard a sharp intake of breath to one side and his brother’s familiar chuckle to the other.
“Oh my God, I thought he was passed out drunk!”
“My brother can hold his liquor better than most Asgardians. If he is awake enough to talk, I will leave the two of you to have this conversation in private. Good night, Darcy. Sleep well, brother.”
“Night, Big Guy.” There was the sound of a door opening and closing, and then silence for a moment before Darcy spoke. “How much did you hear?
“You think I deserve you, and whether or not I want you I’ve got you.” He cracked an eye open, seeing Darcy leaning over him, her hair falling around her. “I do want you, in point of fact. Platonically. Romantically. Even carnally.”
“Why are you waiting until you’re three sheets to the wind to tell me this?” she asked, a small smile etching itself at the corners of her lips.
“Because I never thought you could love me the way I love you,” he said simply.
“Hey. Just because you’ve got some self esteem and self worth issues to work on doesn’t mean you’re unlovable. I love you very much, dammit. I just was kinda hoping it might be more romantic when I admitted it to you or heard it in return.” She moved out of his line of sight and he frowned, but then he felt her curl up next to him, putting an arm around his waist, and he shut his eyes to relax. “Sleep off the booze and we’ll talk when you’re sober. And before you ask, I promise I’ll be here when you wake up, you moron.”
He chuckled slightly, then turned to his side to hold her properly She adjusted her position as he wrapped an arm around her this time, pulling her close. Once he was sober and had dealt with what he feared would be a hangover from Death herself, then they would talk. But for now? Sweet, blissful sleep with the woman he loved curled up by his side.