Despite adapting fairly well to Midgard in most areas, Fandral still refused to submit to mortal trends and clothing. He enjoyed his Asgardian attire far too much for that. But this often led to strange and awkward run ins with the Manhattan natives when Fandral went on his regular outings into the city for this or that. He’d wised up enough to conceal his sword by use of a coat but his style would still be seen as incredibly eclectic and maybe even pretentious at best.
This night was no different as he proudly made his way down the busy sidewalks. Heads turned and eyes followed as he walked by and he brushed it off as mortals simply appreciating his excellent bone structure. Turning into one of the less than savory parts of town, Fandral made sure to keep on guard and his hand never strayed too far from the handle of his sword.
Is it customary of Midgardians to frequently label their relationships? I am not entirely knowledgeable of the… process.
It’s a Midgardian girl thing. We always need to know where we stand and blah blah blah. It’s also a possession thing. I’m just entertaining myself by pairing you with labels that obviously don’t fit you.
Ah, possessiveness is certainly not something I am unfamiliar with. I believe, were we in Asgard, we’d likely be referred to as lovers. Companions, perhaps. Are these not terms you regularly use here?
“Excellent.” Darcy smirked, shameless about enjoying the agony from women she didn’t know. They got him for the majority of his life, and now it was her turn.
She gave a halfhearted stir to the batter, looking at it with pursed lips. “I was going to eat the batter by itself, but if you’d prefer, I’ll bake it.”
Pouring the batter into a well oiled pan, she watched as it evened out. The oven beeped, its preheating had finished. She shoved the pan inside and shut the oven door. Then, washing her hands, she tossed some water on her face and patted dry with a hand towel.
“I had dinner with Thor last night.” Darcy began, working quickly to braid her hair in order to get it out of her way. “He looks like he got hit in the face with a truck.”
She smirked again, finishing the braid off with a rubber band. “And this time, it wasn’t Jane’s fault.”
Fandral immediately perked up at the mention of his dearest friend. Although word had reached him in Asgard of the good news that Thor had finally awoken and was on the road to recovery, Fandral wasn’t aware until now that he’d been released from the hospital’s care.
"So he’s well enough to be out and about? That’s wonderful news! I should pay him a visit within the coming days. He’ll be pleased with the news I have to share from Asgard."
After removing some of the more in-the-way layers of his outfit, he simply just leaned against the kitchen counter and watched Darcy move about the room. His eyes scanned her body appreciatively until they ultimately came to rest upon her face. He noticed the way a few loose strands of her hair had escaped the grasp of the braid and delicately framed her face.
It was the little details like this that Fandral had always noticed when gazing upon a woman. From a young age, he’d had the uncanny ability to find beauty where others might not or could not. But the woman before him could make beauty apparent to even the blindest of men, that he was sure of.
Losing himself in thought entirely, he rested his chin against his palm and fell silent.
Darcy shrugged, not even ashamed of her trouble-making. “A lot of things. Drinking…” Her lips curved upwards with a memory.
“My neighbor had me watch her child. I’m the world’s best babysitter.” The twinkle in her eye suggested the opposite.
“How about you, Westley? Breaking any hearts in Asgard, I hope?”
"There was much weeping as I departed," he said with a nod as he moved away a bit more to pull off his coat. "But this is nothing I am not used to."
When Fandral spoke like this… it was difficult to decide whether or not it was in jest or not. Although his sly smile never faded, there was always this hint of sincerity in his voice that made one believe he really meant it.
He tossed the fur lined coat on the back of a nearby chair and turned to her once more. “Do you plan to bake those or will you play with the batter all night?”
“Yeah, it’s good, huh?” Darcy agreed, and then blinked, eyes wide. The cold and sticky sensation of the batter across her lips surprised her. But none more-so than Fandral kissing her. She really should have guessed he’d do that.
She eagerly wrapped an arm around his neck, clamoring to press her body against his. Once the chocolate had disappeared off her lips, she leaned back somewhat and assessed his face. Darcy ran a finger over his lips and smiled. “You missed me that much, huh?”
Fandral smiled a crooked smile and then pulled away. But he kept a hand around her, resting on the small of her back as he gazed down at her face. “Perhaps…”
He lifted his free hand to tuck the hair that had fallen into her eyes behind her ear. “Tell me, fair maiden, what troubles have you managed to get yourself into while I was away? And do not attempt to cloak your mischief from me. I’m sure I’ll hear of it whether by your will or not.”
Her attention was brought to the silence where music had once played. Knowing that it was overwhelming to Fandral at times, she let it slide. Usually, she threw a fit when someone touched her music.
Waving her spoon, she pointed to the kitchen. “I’m making brownies.” Then she considered it. “Well, the batter anyways.”
She dipped the spoon into the batter and offered it to him afterwards. “Want some?”
Fandral made his way over to her and leaned up against the counter, an elbow propped against it to hold himself up. He eyed the spoon held out to him for a moment before leaning in and tasting the batter, almost hesitantly. It wasn’t bad…
"Very rich," he nodded as he pursed his lips a bit. He dipped his finger in the bowl and then in a swift movement, spread the batter he’d managed to scrape up across her lips. A hearty chuckle escaped him at her reaction and he immediately stood tall and cupped her face, pulling her close to kiss the chocolate away.
She pointed the spoon at him, not visibly impressed. “Does it look like I’m the type that’s wooed over for flowers?”
Snatching the bouquet from him, she leaned down to smell it. “Space flowers. Are they magical? Can they sing?” Darcy stared at them for a moment, waiting. When they turned out to be normal, she looked at him.
Of course she loved the flowers, what kind of girl didn’t? She scanned her apartment for a vase and improvised one out of an extra large glass she’d bought at six flags. She played with it a bit and then leaned back, nodded with approval.
Then, turning back towards him, she planted her fists on her hips and cocked an eyebrow. “So you thought you could win me over with flowers?”
While Darcy moved about to find a proper vase for the flowers, Fandral shut the door. He took this opportunity to turn off the music playing from that contraption Darcy hooked her ‘ipod’ up to. One night when he couldn’t sleep, he’d remained up the entire night trying to figure out how to work the device just for moments such as these when the sound emitting from its speakers seemed unbearable.
At her question, he turned on his heels quickly to catch her gaze. “But of course not, milady!” He brought a gloved hand up to hold over his heart. “I am fully prepared to humbly submit to whatever… punishment my beloved would see fit.” His eyebrow quirked up as he bowed his head to her.
Licking brownie batter off a spoon, Darcy sang along to the music playing. There was no one home and that meant sweatpants, no makeup and comfort food. Her neighbors hadn’t complained about the volume of the music yet and she planned on ignoring them if they did.
It took her a minute or two to figure out that the pounding sound was not part of the song and she looked at the door curiously. When it occurred again, Darcy blinked. She padded over to the door, still eating the chocolate batter as she swung the door open.
With chocolate smeared on her lips, a grin lit up her face and she gasped.
“Holy Toledo, Fandral. Where the hell have you been?”
Fandral grinned and stood a bit straighter, if that was at all possible. “Why, I was out scouring all of Asgard for the rarest and most beautiful flowers to gift to my beloved! Where else would I have ventured off to for so long?”
He stepped inside, not caring that he invaded her personal space as he did so. His gaze was playful as he held the bouquet out towards her. “Does this not please you?” he asked, leaning in towards her, his tone turning a bit deeper.
The familiar beams of light from the bifrost filled the sky and Fandral once again found his feet on Midgard soil. That seemingly impenetrable grin on his face as he inhaled a deep breath of fresh New York air was indeed something to behold. Dressed to the nines in his finest Asgardian robe, a large bouquet of flowers in hand, he began the short on-foot journey to Darcy’s.
Asgard had been his place of refuge for several days now. And although he’d forever call the realm eternal his home, there were things now that made leaving Midgard for long periods of time unbearable.
One of those things was blaring her eclectic music so loudly that he could hear it even now as the building just came into his view. He hurried up the steps, two at a time and stood tall as he found himself in front of the door. He curled his mustache and ran his fingers through his hair before knocking loudly.