Broken Underneath, 1/5. Loki/Natasha. NC-17.
Title: Broken Underneath
Series: #4 in Ready For The Siege
(#1 - Look Over Your Shoulder, #2 - Armed Up To The Teeth, #3 - Misery Inspires)
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Loki/Natasha
Disclaimer: Not mine! Some comic backstory is incorporated into characterizations, but this is still primarily movieverse. Incoprorates a prompt from avengerkink round 7: I'd love to see Loki bring someone right to the edge again and again, but never letting them come. Not even when they're a quivering, whimpering mess, begging him for release. and also a prompt from round 4: Loki knows all of Natasha's secrets, and uses them to break her down completely. I want pyschological torture and Loki being relentless and cruel.
Spoilers/Warnings: Post-movie. Screwed up people doing screwed up things to and with each other, though that might be a draw. ;)
Title and series title from "The Royal We" by Silversun Pickups
Summary: Loki might have had some plans for Natasha, but that didn't mean he didn't intend to have a little fun with her first. It was only too bad that she didn't figure that out until it was far too late.
One - Glittering Shards Of Ice
Loki had contrived to approach Thor, Jane Foster, Sif and the Warriors Three until glamour, and Natasha had revealed the truth. He had grabbed her and moved her through reality to some kind of hideaway. It was chilly, the walls made of solid ice, and no apparent vents or exits other than the interdimensional portal that Loki had used to bring them both there. Natasha looked slowly at the room, noting the elaborate silver furniture, furs and throw rugs. Silver candelabra held white taper candles, and there was a roaring fire in the icy hearth. On either side of the fireplace were massive ice shelves with leather bound books, scrolls and ornate boxes. A table to the side was weighted down with numerous ink pots and quills, rolled scrolls and parchment, more stacks of books. It was cozy and old fashioned in appearance, reminding Natasha of films taking place in Victorian drawing rooms or libraries.
Clint had been right about Loki isolating her from the rest of SHIELD operatives. He's isolating you. Why?
"This is your home," Natasha murmured, looking at Loki's manic grin. His eyes glittered as his lips stretched wide, revealing his teeth. The shadows playing over his face made him look almost sickly, as if it had cost him far too much to bring her here.
He didn't need the Tesseract for travel, that was clear. The cost in magic wasn't nearly as much as Thor had assumed it to be, but it was not as simple as Loki had wanted her to think. Natasha could see the strain in him, the weary set to his shoulders now that he didn't have to put on a show for the Asgardians.
"I did say 'welcome home,' did I not?" Loki asked, stepping closer.
Natasha didn't back down, though there was a slight frisson of fear rolling down her spine. "Yes, but it's different if this is your home, or if it's a place where you intend to keep me locked away."
"Why would I do that?" he asked, an edge to his voice. Loki reached out and ran his fingers along the curve of her cheek. Natasha remained very still, her gaze level as he touched her. "Why would I want you locked away? It's a terrible thing to do to someone, isn't it?"
He had been magically gagged and bound after the Battle of New York. Thor would never speak of his imprisonment on Asgard, and neither would the other Asgardians. They hadn't been terribly surprised when he began showing up on Earth, when agents of Hydra began using his name as a recruiting tactic. Perhaps they never thought Loki could stay in captivity. Either way, Natasha didn't think that Loki departed from Asgard on good terms. She wouldn't be surprised if they had tried isolating him.
"Depends on whether or not they like solitude, isn't it?" Natasha asked in a neutral tone, mimicking the cadence of his speech slightly. It was just enough to appear as though she understood him, but not enough to be mocking.
Loki's touch firmed on her skin slightly, and his fingers traced the curve of her jaw. "Quiet doesn't bother you," he murmured, as if musing aloud. "You're content with stillness. But solitude is different. Alone is altogether a different creature."
"Did they plan to leave you in isolation in Asgard?" Natasha asked quietly, eyes locked to his.
He stayed very still, but there was a slight twitch of displeasure in the corner of his mouth after a moment. "What they planned for me and what I plan to do rarely coincide."
"I didn't ask you what happened with that," Natasha said slowly.
His hand fell from her jaw to her shoulder, and there was a hard look in his eyes. He didn't make any other move, but Natasha still saw it as a warning that his mercurial moods were about to shift rather violently. "No, you did not."
"Is this going to be an additional problem for you?"
Loki had apparently expected her to follow up with a question about how he escaped Asgardian justice, so this threw him a little. "Is what going to be an additional problem?"
"You disappeared then, and now you've disappeared with me in tow. Is this something else that they're going to count against you?"
He laughed and backed away a little, arms at his sides. He sounded amused, at least, and started to unbuckle his vambraces. If he was making himself at home, he had to be comfortable. This line of inquiry was making him feel clever and strong. That would help her survive this, for certain, but it didn't necessarily make him want to set her free. Still, she had her mental profile of what she knew of him. In certain things, he still behaved in a very painfully human way. She just had to factor in magic, godlike strength and technology that was beyond current capabilities. In time, she could probably figure that out, just as she had figured out the Chitauri energy staves. It was only a matter of time.
Moving slowly and methodically, Loki removed the vambraces and carefully put them on a shelf near other armor pieces. "Everything counts against me, little spider," he said finally, voice low and a little rough.
Natasha strode forward as he reached up to undo a buckle at his shoulder. "It's caught," she said when their fingers tangled together. He watched her with narrowed eyes as she pulled the leather through the buckle, but she made no untoward moves.
"Do you think you can change me?" Loki asked, lips curling into a sardonic smile.
"If it hasn't happened yet in thousands of years, I doubt my lifetime could do it."
He laughed, moving away to remove the rest of his armor. "Oh, yes, this is better."
"What is?" Natasha asked, getting the feeling she was missing a large piece of the puzzle.
"I was going to leave you elsewhere on Yggdrasil, have you match wits with the creatures in between the branches." Now there was an edge to his expression that seemed to hint at darkness and madness, both of which had liberally touched Loki. "But you altered my course as we traveled, and the safest thing to do was to bring you here."
Natasha made a mental note to try to avoid changing his destinations as they traveled via portal. For all she knew, they could have landed somewhere with no air.
"What will you do now? I'm sure Thor and the others will have reported on my absence."
Loki grinned at her, manic menace in his posture. "I'm counting on it, little spider. Let them try to find me. They can't."
"Did you mean to keep me here forever?" she asked mildly, as if his answer didn't matter.
That gave him pause; he clearly hadn't thought this far ahead.
After a moment, he pointed to a pile of furs in the corner of the room. "If you're in need of rest, you may lie there."
"Clothing? Food? Bathroom?" she asked, an eyebrow raised. "Unlike you, I can't rely on magic to take care of those kinds of necessities."
Loki clenched his jaw a little. "Those will be attended to as necessary."
Natasha shrugged, then started to strip. "It's necessary. I had been heading to the Tower because I have rooms there, and was intending on taking a bath."
He watched her, lips pressed together tightly. She stood before him when naked, her clothes scattered on the floor around her. Chin tilted up, she gave him a level look. "Are you simply going to stare? Or do I get a bath?"
Coming to a decision, Loki nodded and let his breath out in a slow, controlled breath. He was in front of her in four strides, the rest of his armor disappearing between steps. "You don't fear me," he said in a low voice as he grasped her arms. "Why don't you fear me?"
Because this isn't the first time I've dealt with dangerous men with adoption issues would not be received very well, so Natasha merely leaned in slightly, lips an inch from his. "There's still something you want from me."
"If I want to kill you?" he challenged.
Natasha shook her head sharply. "If you planned to kill me, it wouldn't be here. Not in your home, not like this."
Loki abruptly let go of her and moved to the side of the room, pulling aside a tapestry that she didn't get a chance to really look at before. "You may bathe here. I have no clothes for you, but perhaps simple robes may do."
The bathing room was large and as exquisitely done as the sitting room. She might have been captured, but at least it was in style this time. "Thank you," she said politely with a smile. He watched her move around the space, figuring out how to draw a scented bath, not making any move to help her. When she sank beneath the surface of the warm water, Loki turned away. She caught sight of a troubled expression, and thought perhaps that he was trying to rearrange plans that he had already made.
She still had to entice him to work with SHIELD. Hopefully she could get his plans to coincide with the directives Fury had given her.
If she couldn't, she was in deep trouble.
***
Natasha had worn Loki's dark green silk robe and bundled up beneath the furs once she had finished with her bath. The trickster himself was nowhere to be seen, and there was little to glean from looking at the shelves. Most of the writing was runic, and she had never learned those languages. The furs were warm and soft, comforting. It occurred to her that he reveled in sensory input, different textures and temperatures. She remembered a similar experience when she first escaped the Red Room, though she had been trying to figure out what she liked rather than what a construct's memory had liked. It was a sign of sensory deprivation at some point for Loki, she was sure. Perhaps that time in Asgard he didn't want to talk about.
She dozed off, and when she woke, Loki was in the room. He was at the desk, reading a scroll with a frown pulling at his features. When he noticed she was stirring, he put the scroll down and came to sit beside her. Without saying anything, Loki merely stroked her hair gently, his gaze fixed on the fireplace.
"You disturbed nothing here but my bed," he said slowly.
"Did you want me to?" Natasha asked, shifting slightly to stretch.
Loki turned his head and watched the movement avidly. He stopped stroking her hair and pulled at the tie holding the robe together. "Perhaps I thought you might try something underhanded, thinking it would hurt me."
He was testing her, much in the same way that she might have done in his place. Natasha shrugged, watching his eyes track the movement of her breasts. "Would that really harm you?"
Something shifted in his features, the barest of tightening in his jaw. Oh yes, it would have hurt him. This was his home, after all. These were his things, his secrets that he jealously hoarded away from Thor and his friends. This was a place where Loki could hide and lick his wounds, salvage his tattered pride and plan grandiose plots to feel self important. It would have hurt him greatly to see evidence that she had pawed through his things, upset his order, invading his sense of space.
She didn't have to go through his things to see how he felt. She was still missing the why of it, why he was doing these things now. He was playing some kind of long game, and she couldn't see all of the desires that drove him to such lengths.
"You're mortal," Loki said finally, moving to rest his hand in the valley between her breasts. He could probably feel her heartbeat, still steady in her chest.
He was lonely and proud, not above using others for his own ends. She could see that clearly, though she wasn't sure which ends he was planning to use her for.
There was the sensation of fullness as a ghostly cock slid into her, then more pressure at her clit in a rhythmic motion. Loki grinned at Natasha's attempt to hide her surprise, then bent down to take a breast into his mouth. She grabbed a fistful of his dark hair in her hand, hissing in pleasure. "That's cheating."
"Certainly not," he replied, affronted, as he lifted his head to stare at her. "Magic is simply an extension of my will. It's my presence, my essence of spirit." He let his lower lip rub against her peaked nipple. "Doesn't it feel like me, still?"
Natasha gasped and jerked as the rhythm inside her changed, becoming more forceful. It did, sort of, but there was too much to take in at once. She let out a soft moan and tugged on his hair, bringing his mouth up to hers. His lips were soft and unhurried against hers, while the magic pressed into her harder and faster. Her hips jerked and she could feel her own slick wetness from the contact. Loki grasped a breast and rolled the nipple between his fingers, adding another facet of pleasure. It sent her over the edge, and she came apart in his hands. Only then did the magic seem to dissipate, leaving behind a throbbing ache.
Loki simply knelt there beside her, looking over her naked body. After a while she felt the chill from the icy room, and there was a hint of a smile on his lips at the sight of gooseflesh rising. "You are so fragile, yet you don't seem to realize it."
"Everyone has a weakness."
"Yes, they do," he replied easily. She wondered what he was thinking of, staring down at her in that way. It looked as though he was trying to puzzle her out, that he couldn't quite figure out what to do with her.
She understood the feeling, being on the receiving end of that look so often.
He was no stranger to silence, and saw no need to fill it the way stupid politicos often did. It didn't bother him that the conversation petered out, no explanation forthcoming. Natasha wondered if she was giving anything away, if anything she was learning about him was even valid. Fury didn't seem to care one way or another, as long as she brought back results. It had always been about getting results.
Reaching out, Natasha pulled him down to the furs. "You need to keep me warm."
"Oh, I need to?"
"You're the one that brought me here."
"You can't work the seidr on your own, of course I did."
Natasha merely lofted an eyebrow at him. "You're responsible."
He gave a soft huff of annoyance. "Oh, very well."
Loki was good at cuddling, she had to give him that. He wasn't terribly warm, but he definitely kept the chill from her skin as he wrapped himself around her. The fabric of his loose clothing was soft, almost like fine silk, and was like a gentle caress against her. He stroked her hair, curling strands of it around his long fingers. Natasha watched his expression, never for a moment thinking he was as unguarded as he looked. She was something like a pet to him, something to explore and play with, then cast aside. But at the same time, the way he held onto her solidified the observation that he was lonely. He was playing at being a god, a ruler of multiple realms, but he hid here in a pocket dimension with her. There weren't adoring masses waiting for him, just more enemies scattered in the cosmos calling for his blood.
He obviously liked the challenge of besting them, of proving himself clever with his machinations. A puppeteer of sorts, though every puppeteer needed an audience to play for. Thor was obviously a poor choice, since Loki often pulled his strings as well. Natasha doubted that she was his chosen audience either.
"What is it that you want?" she asked him finally. Allusions wouldn't work, so she might as well flatter his ego and cave in.
Lips curled slightly in amusement. "Loyal subjects, power, fame, knowledge... The usual sorts of things a crazed tyrant would like."
He remembered the words she had thrown at him. Oh, that must have hurt his ego then. She would have to remember that.
"What if you could get that without resorting to destroying entire worlds?"
"But where is the fun in that?"
"Just suppose," Natasha insisted.
Loki laughed. "Your masters pull your strings, little spider. I think you've forgotten that."
"Everyone has some. Who pulls your strings?"
He froze for a fraction of a second, a movement she would have missed if she wasn't so thoroughly wrapped up in his arms. Someone indeed had been pulling his strings, perhaps one of the many intergalactic enemies calling for his blood. Clint had alluded to that, which had enraged him weeks ago.
She risked a touch to his chin with her fingertips. "It's not always necessary to fight them alone. Sometimes you can ask for help."
"That always comes with a heavy price."
"You have to decide if it's worth paying."
Loki turned slightly, his interest in this conversation already waning. She shut her lips and let herself settle into his embrace. His heart still beat erratically near her ear. It was impossible to tell if it was anxiety, anticipation or desire. There was possibly no distinction for him, just the thrill of movement and violence, action and reaction, push and pull, utter chaos shattering through order.
Natasha would have to wait and see what happened.
***
"Do you need to visit your keepers?" Loki asked abruptly. Natasha had no idea how much time had passed in this little hideaway. Food simply appeared when she was hungry, and there were no external cues indicating the passage of time.
"How long have we been here?" she asked in return, eyebrow raised. She stretched, seeing him track her movement out of the corner of her eye. With the chill of the room, her nipples were taut points easily visible through the green silk robe. "I had a day off before I had to check in."
Loki's lips twitched into a smile as she turned to face him. "Only a day?"
"Why?"
He was lounging at the desk, reading through one of the thick volumes piled onto it and occasionally taking notes on a piece of parchment with a quill. This was his form of relaxing, so he was more simply dressed in loose fitting black trousers and a gray shirt that laced up at the throat. Natasha knew better than to think he wasn't dangerous, even though he looked rather tranquil. The charming smile on his face would fool anyone unfamiliar with him.
"Time passes differently here. Its ebb and flow would be difficult for your mortal mind to fathom properly," he added, an unctuous note to his voice.
Natasha repressed the urge to roll her eyes at him. "So how much time had passed?"
"Close to a week."
A week. Thor and the others had witnessed her abduction and likely thought she was dead. Clint might be trying to light into Fury for this. Clint wouldn't want to believe that Loki had killed her, if only for personal reasons. They needed each other far too much for death to be a viable ending for either of them. No, he would be looking everywhere and probably begging Thor to contact any Asgardian mages to try to find her.
Fury might actually think she was dead. He might not appear dismayed at that development, but he played his cards close to his vest. Natasha was fairly certain that he appreciated her work. He trusted her, and he was one of the few that she trusted implicitly. His opinion was one of the few that mattered to her, and she would never betray that trust. It had been too hard won to throw away, and she didn't belong anywhere else anymore.
"A week," Natasha echoed, when Loki clearly expected an answer from her. He was watching her too avidly, likely wanting to see her upset. Her features were neutral, not giving him the response that he was looking for.
"They will think the worst of you, poor child. You proved me false, and I ran off with you."
Natasha rolled her shoulders and neck in an easy stretch, hiding the shudder that threatened to roll down her spine. There was still a simmering anger present, and she didn't know if it was directed at her deliberately or simply because she was there. "Then they think the worst of me," she said in a careless tone. "It's happened before."
Loki was watching her intently, and not just for the play of her body as she moved. "Has it?"
"Yes," she said simply, not feeling the need to elaborate.
He stared at her, quill clutched tightly in his hand. "And?"
"And what?" she asked innocently, turning to face him with her head cocked to the side.
"You are not a simpering idiot. How did they stop believing the worst of you?"
"Some never stopped," Natasha said simply, shrugging. "It happens in my line of work."
They stared at each other, and Loki carefully put his quill down before he could break it. "It happens," he echoed slowly. "Does it truly not matter what others think of you?"
"Why should it? I know the truth."
It wasn't a complete lie. There were simply very few people that she actually cared about, but Loki didn't need to know the details. Her apparent indifference seemed to be a troubling enough concept for him to grasp.
Loki stood and approached her, movements stiff and jerky. "What is your truth, then, little spider?" he asked, reaching between them to pull the robe's tie free. "What convenient lie would you tell me, thinking me a fool?"
"You are many things, Loki, but you are not a fool."
His smile was an aggressive baring of teeth as the robe slipped from her shoulders. Pushing it down, Loki didn't bother to track the movement of the silk. "Are you certain?"
"I would wager my life on that."
"And that is one of the few things you truly value, isn't it?"
"It's mine," she murmured softly, letting her hand slide down the soft fabric of his shirt. She didn't want to talk about how the Red Room created personality templates for her to become prior to missions. When she first left them, she had been empty and unsure of who she was. By now, she had built up a life that was Natasha Romanoff, and it was completely hers. No one else created that personality, and she liked it that way.
"You only value what is truly yours," Loki observed.
Natasha nodded, somewhat uncomfortable with how much of her he could see. "I belong to no one else."
"Are you certain of that, little spider? Your keepers think they control you. You dance to their tune, follow their bidding."
"I follow the rules that suit me."
Loki pulled her body against his, fingers pressed tightly to her lower back. "And what are those?" he purred. "You were chasing at shadows. You were meant to lure me in."
"They have resources in their realm," she replied evenly. "How else do you plan to get what you want? You'll need to use the opportunities presented to you."
"Oh, I see many opportunities," he murmured, just before he bent his head down to kiss her roughly. Natasha softened against him, molding her body to his and opening her lips. Loki's tongue darted into her mouth immediately, probing at the recesses of her mouth and licking at her teeth. He started walking backward, toward his desk, and Natasha stumbled forward on the tips of her toes.
Without a word, he broke the kiss to bend Natasha over the writing desk, her bare torso and cheek pressed against the cold material. "I think you enjoy this particular opportunity," Loki murmured before licking his fingers. He slid them through her folds, then inside of her. He growled, a low contented sound, and worked his fingers in and out of her. Natasha sighed, tilting her hips back toward him. "Yes, you do," Loki growled. "A pretty little pet, a plaything all my own," he continued. She wished he would shut his mouth and get on with it already.
She scrabbled for purchase against the sides of the desk as Loki slammed into her repeatedly, filling her with every delicious thrust. Piles of books and parchment slid off the desk as it moved, and a bottle of ink on the other side toppled over, spilling its contents across the edge of the desk and onto the floor. The ink glittered a little in the wan light, as if there had been magic contained within it, as if writing magic spells involved more than simply taking a quill to parchment.
It was easy to focus on those things, on the cold seeping into her skin or the feel of his clothing when it touched her backside. That allowed her to divorce her mind from the sensations flooding through her. Seeing her like this was important to Loki, and she played up her gasps and moans for his sake. Oh, it certainly felt good, and he knew how to pleasure a woman if he put his mind to it. But he wanted to possess her, body and soul, and needed to feel in control. She could see the signs of it; in that, he was just like every other man she'd had to manipulate over the years. Loki called himself a god and he needed to feel as if he was.
Fingers rough against her skin, Loki pulled at her hips with each thrust. He needed to mark her, needed to show dominance in this moment.
She let him, but once he sagged against her body with his release, she moved. Startled, Loki couldn't stop her from twisting around him and flipping him onto his back. Natasha straddled his body and slid onto his cock. When he reached up for her, she shook her head and smirked. "Do I need to tie you down?" she taunted, a sultry look in her eye.
Loki laughed. "Do your worst, little spider."
Laughing, Natasha moved over him, practically using him like a toy. His amusement with her was obvious, and he fondled her breasts as she bounced on his cock and made little gasping sighs of pleasure. When she came, she slowed and leaned forward, her hands against his shoulders for balance. "I'm done now," she announced unnecessarily.
"That was hardly torturous," he scoffed.
"It wasn't meant to be. I never said I'd actually do my worst, you just assumed I would."
As Loki laughed, Natasha smiled. Let him think he was in control. Let him think he had her bound to him through sex and pleasure.
It didn't have to be the truth. She never operated well in the open anyway.
After cleaning them off with magic, Loki presented Natasha with a crystal pendant as well as her clothes. The pendant was a clear stone with a while milky cloud in the center of it. "If you need to return before I come for you, break this. The mist will transport you back here."
"Will you miss me, then?" she asked softly.
His smile was distant, and he hung the chain around her neck. The pendant hung between her breasts and felt as cold as the walls of the hideaway or the desk she had just been pressed up against. "You do not possess any trace of the seidr. You won't find me otherwise."
She cupped his cheek with a hand. "You'll miss me," she murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips. "I'll think of you."
Loki grasped her by the throat and pulled her back in for a desperate, possessive kiss. "Do so," he said, then let her go abruptly. His expression shifted to one of his prideful masks. "We'll meet again, dear spider."
Before she could reply, he pushed her away from him. She stumbled backward through a portal she hadn't seen him open.
Natasha fell through space, thinking she was about to die. She didn't, but it felt like infinity spinning all around her, her mind unable to fathom the vastness of the universe around her.
Clint, she thought, shutting her eyes tightly. Perhaps a thought of him could anchor her, direct her to the proper place and time. She wouldn't put it past Loki to send her forward or backward in time, just to fuck with her.
She landed roughly, the breath knocked out of her. Her head hit the floor, hard enough that she blacked out.
Still, she had a flash of Clint's concerned expression before the darkness took her. I'm home was her last fragment of coherent thought.
***
***
To Chapter Two - Out Of Time
Series: #4 in Ready For The Siege
(#1 - Look Over Your Shoulder, #2 - Armed Up To The Teeth, #3 - Misery Inspires)
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Loki/Natasha
Disclaimer: Not mine! Some comic backstory is incorporated into characterizations, but this is still primarily movieverse. Incoprorates a prompt from avengerkink round 7: I'd love to see Loki bring someone right to the edge again and again, but never letting them come. Not even when they're a quivering, whimpering mess, begging him for release. and also a prompt from round 4: Loki knows all of Natasha's secrets, and uses them to break her down completely. I want pyschological torture and Loki being relentless and cruel.
Spoilers/Warnings: Post-movie. Screwed up people doing screwed up things to and with each other, though that might be a draw. ;)
Title and series title from "The Royal We" by Silversun Pickups
Summary: Loki might have had some plans for Natasha, but that didn't mean he didn't intend to have a little fun with her first. It was only too bad that she didn't figure that out until it was far too late.
One - Glittering Shards Of Ice
Loki had contrived to approach Thor, Jane Foster, Sif and the Warriors Three until glamour, and Natasha had revealed the truth. He had grabbed her and moved her through reality to some kind of hideaway. It was chilly, the walls made of solid ice, and no apparent vents or exits other than the interdimensional portal that Loki had used to bring them both there. Natasha looked slowly at the room, noting the elaborate silver furniture, furs and throw rugs. Silver candelabra held white taper candles, and there was a roaring fire in the icy hearth. On either side of the fireplace were massive ice shelves with leather bound books, scrolls and ornate boxes. A table to the side was weighted down with numerous ink pots and quills, rolled scrolls and parchment, more stacks of books. It was cozy and old fashioned in appearance, reminding Natasha of films taking place in Victorian drawing rooms or libraries.
Clint had been right about Loki isolating her from the rest of SHIELD operatives. He's isolating you. Why?
"This is your home," Natasha murmured, looking at Loki's manic grin. His eyes glittered as his lips stretched wide, revealing his teeth. The shadows playing over his face made him look almost sickly, as if it had cost him far too much to bring her here.
He didn't need the Tesseract for travel, that was clear. The cost in magic wasn't nearly as much as Thor had assumed it to be, but it was not as simple as Loki had wanted her to think. Natasha could see the strain in him, the weary set to his shoulders now that he didn't have to put on a show for the Asgardians.
"I did say 'welcome home,' did I not?" Loki asked, stepping closer.
Natasha didn't back down, though there was a slight frisson of fear rolling down her spine. "Yes, but it's different if this is your home, or if it's a place where you intend to keep me locked away."
"Why would I do that?" he asked, an edge to his voice. Loki reached out and ran his fingers along the curve of her cheek. Natasha remained very still, her gaze level as he touched her. "Why would I want you locked away? It's a terrible thing to do to someone, isn't it?"
He had been magically gagged and bound after the Battle of New York. Thor would never speak of his imprisonment on Asgard, and neither would the other Asgardians. They hadn't been terribly surprised when he began showing up on Earth, when agents of Hydra began using his name as a recruiting tactic. Perhaps they never thought Loki could stay in captivity. Either way, Natasha didn't think that Loki departed from Asgard on good terms. She wouldn't be surprised if they had tried isolating him.
"Depends on whether or not they like solitude, isn't it?" Natasha asked in a neutral tone, mimicking the cadence of his speech slightly. It was just enough to appear as though she understood him, but not enough to be mocking.
Loki's touch firmed on her skin slightly, and his fingers traced the curve of her jaw. "Quiet doesn't bother you," he murmured, as if musing aloud. "You're content with stillness. But solitude is different. Alone is altogether a different creature."
"Did they plan to leave you in isolation in Asgard?" Natasha asked quietly, eyes locked to his.
He stayed very still, but there was a slight twitch of displeasure in the corner of his mouth after a moment. "What they planned for me and what I plan to do rarely coincide."
"I didn't ask you what happened with that," Natasha said slowly.
His hand fell from her jaw to her shoulder, and there was a hard look in his eyes. He didn't make any other move, but Natasha still saw it as a warning that his mercurial moods were about to shift rather violently. "No, you did not."
"Is this going to be an additional problem for you?"
Loki had apparently expected her to follow up with a question about how he escaped Asgardian justice, so this threw him a little. "Is what going to be an additional problem?"
"You disappeared then, and now you've disappeared with me in tow. Is this something else that they're going to count against you?"
He laughed and backed away a little, arms at his sides. He sounded amused, at least, and started to unbuckle his vambraces. If he was making himself at home, he had to be comfortable. This line of inquiry was making him feel clever and strong. That would help her survive this, for certain, but it didn't necessarily make him want to set her free. Still, she had her mental profile of what she knew of him. In certain things, he still behaved in a very painfully human way. She just had to factor in magic, godlike strength and technology that was beyond current capabilities. In time, she could probably figure that out, just as she had figured out the Chitauri energy staves. It was only a matter of time.
Moving slowly and methodically, Loki removed the vambraces and carefully put them on a shelf near other armor pieces. "Everything counts against me, little spider," he said finally, voice low and a little rough.
Natasha strode forward as he reached up to undo a buckle at his shoulder. "It's caught," she said when their fingers tangled together. He watched her with narrowed eyes as she pulled the leather through the buckle, but she made no untoward moves.
"Do you think you can change me?" Loki asked, lips curling into a sardonic smile.
"If it hasn't happened yet in thousands of years, I doubt my lifetime could do it."
He laughed, moving away to remove the rest of his armor. "Oh, yes, this is better."
"What is?" Natasha asked, getting the feeling she was missing a large piece of the puzzle.
"I was going to leave you elsewhere on Yggdrasil, have you match wits with the creatures in between the branches." Now there was an edge to his expression that seemed to hint at darkness and madness, both of which had liberally touched Loki. "But you altered my course as we traveled, and the safest thing to do was to bring you here."
Natasha made a mental note to try to avoid changing his destinations as they traveled via portal. For all she knew, they could have landed somewhere with no air.
"What will you do now? I'm sure Thor and the others will have reported on my absence."
Loki grinned at her, manic menace in his posture. "I'm counting on it, little spider. Let them try to find me. They can't."
"Did you mean to keep me here forever?" she asked mildly, as if his answer didn't matter.
That gave him pause; he clearly hadn't thought this far ahead.
After a moment, he pointed to a pile of furs in the corner of the room. "If you're in need of rest, you may lie there."
"Clothing? Food? Bathroom?" she asked, an eyebrow raised. "Unlike you, I can't rely on magic to take care of those kinds of necessities."
Loki clenched his jaw a little. "Those will be attended to as necessary."
Natasha shrugged, then started to strip. "It's necessary. I had been heading to the Tower because I have rooms there, and was intending on taking a bath."
He watched her, lips pressed together tightly. She stood before him when naked, her clothes scattered on the floor around her. Chin tilted up, she gave him a level look. "Are you simply going to stare? Or do I get a bath?"
Coming to a decision, Loki nodded and let his breath out in a slow, controlled breath. He was in front of her in four strides, the rest of his armor disappearing between steps. "You don't fear me," he said in a low voice as he grasped her arms. "Why don't you fear me?"
Because this isn't the first time I've dealt with dangerous men with adoption issues would not be received very well, so Natasha merely leaned in slightly, lips an inch from his. "There's still something you want from me."
"If I want to kill you?" he challenged.
Natasha shook her head sharply. "If you planned to kill me, it wouldn't be here. Not in your home, not like this."
Loki abruptly let go of her and moved to the side of the room, pulling aside a tapestry that she didn't get a chance to really look at before. "You may bathe here. I have no clothes for you, but perhaps simple robes may do."
The bathing room was large and as exquisitely done as the sitting room. She might have been captured, but at least it was in style this time. "Thank you," she said politely with a smile. He watched her move around the space, figuring out how to draw a scented bath, not making any move to help her. When she sank beneath the surface of the warm water, Loki turned away. She caught sight of a troubled expression, and thought perhaps that he was trying to rearrange plans that he had already made.
She still had to entice him to work with SHIELD. Hopefully she could get his plans to coincide with the directives Fury had given her.
If she couldn't, she was in deep trouble.
***
Natasha had worn Loki's dark green silk robe and bundled up beneath the furs once she had finished with her bath. The trickster himself was nowhere to be seen, and there was little to glean from looking at the shelves. Most of the writing was runic, and she had never learned those languages. The furs were warm and soft, comforting. It occurred to her that he reveled in sensory input, different textures and temperatures. She remembered a similar experience when she first escaped the Red Room, though she had been trying to figure out what she liked rather than what a construct's memory had liked. It was a sign of sensory deprivation at some point for Loki, she was sure. Perhaps that time in Asgard he didn't want to talk about.
She dozed off, and when she woke, Loki was in the room. He was at the desk, reading a scroll with a frown pulling at his features. When he noticed she was stirring, he put the scroll down and came to sit beside her. Without saying anything, Loki merely stroked her hair gently, his gaze fixed on the fireplace.
"You disturbed nothing here but my bed," he said slowly.
"Did you want me to?" Natasha asked, shifting slightly to stretch.
Loki turned his head and watched the movement avidly. He stopped stroking her hair and pulled at the tie holding the robe together. "Perhaps I thought you might try something underhanded, thinking it would hurt me."
He was testing her, much in the same way that she might have done in his place. Natasha shrugged, watching his eyes track the movement of her breasts. "Would that really harm you?"
Something shifted in his features, the barest of tightening in his jaw. Oh yes, it would have hurt him. This was his home, after all. These were his things, his secrets that he jealously hoarded away from Thor and his friends. This was a place where Loki could hide and lick his wounds, salvage his tattered pride and plan grandiose plots to feel self important. It would have hurt him greatly to see evidence that she had pawed through his things, upset his order, invading his sense of space.
She didn't have to go through his things to see how he felt. She was still missing the why of it, why he was doing these things now. He was playing some kind of long game, and she couldn't see all of the desires that drove him to such lengths.
"You're mortal," Loki said finally, moving to rest his hand in the valley between her breasts. He could probably feel her heartbeat, still steady in her chest.
He was lonely and proud, not above using others for his own ends. She could see that clearly, though she wasn't sure which ends he was planning to use her for.
There was the sensation of fullness as a ghostly cock slid into her, then more pressure at her clit in a rhythmic motion. Loki grinned at Natasha's attempt to hide her surprise, then bent down to take a breast into his mouth. She grabbed a fistful of his dark hair in her hand, hissing in pleasure. "That's cheating."
"Certainly not," he replied, affronted, as he lifted his head to stare at her. "Magic is simply an extension of my will. It's my presence, my essence of spirit." He let his lower lip rub against her peaked nipple. "Doesn't it feel like me, still?"
Natasha gasped and jerked as the rhythm inside her changed, becoming more forceful. It did, sort of, but there was too much to take in at once. She let out a soft moan and tugged on his hair, bringing his mouth up to hers. His lips were soft and unhurried against hers, while the magic pressed into her harder and faster. Her hips jerked and she could feel her own slick wetness from the contact. Loki grasped a breast and rolled the nipple between his fingers, adding another facet of pleasure. It sent her over the edge, and she came apart in his hands. Only then did the magic seem to dissipate, leaving behind a throbbing ache.
Loki simply knelt there beside her, looking over her naked body. After a while she felt the chill from the icy room, and there was a hint of a smile on his lips at the sight of gooseflesh rising. "You are so fragile, yet you don't seem to realize it."
"Everyone has a weakness."
"Yes, they do," he replied easily. She wondered what he was thinking of, staring down at her in that way. It looked as though he was trying to puzzle her out, that he couldn't quite figure out what to do with her.
She understood the feeling, being on the receiving end of that look so often.
He was no stranger to silence, and saw no need to fill it the way stupid politicos often did. It didn't bother him that the conversation petered out, no explanation forthcoming. Natasha wondered if she was giving anything away, if anything she was learning about him was even valid. Fury didn't seem to care one way or another, as long as she brought back results. It had always been about getting results.
Reaching out, Natasha pulled him down to the furs. "You need to keep me warm."
"Oh, I need to?"
"You're the one that brought me here."
"You can't work the seidr on your own, of course I did."
Natasha merely lofted an eyebrow at him. "You're responsible."
He gave a soft huff of annoyance. "Oh, very well."
Loki was good at cuddling, she had to give him that. He wasn't terribly warm, but he definitely kept the chill from her skin as he wrapped himself around her. The fabric of his loose clothing was soft, almost like fine silk, and was like a gentle caress against her. He stroked her hair, curling strands of it around his long fingers. Natasha watched his expression, never for a moment thinking he was as unguarded as he looked. She was something like a pet to him, something to explore and play with, then cast aside. But at the same time, the way he held onto her solidified the observation that he was lonely. He was playing at being a god, a ruler of multiple realms, but he hid here in a pocket dimension with her. There weren't adoring masses waiting for him, just more enemies scattered in the cosmos calling for his blood.
He obviously liked the challenge of besting them, of proving himself clever with his machinations. A puppeteer of sorts, though every puppeteer needed an audience to play for. Thor was obviously a poor choice, since Loki often pulled his strings as well. Natasha doubted that she was his chosen audience either.
"What is it that you want?" she asked him finally. Allusions wouldn't work, so she might as well flatter his ego and cave in.
Lips curled slightly in amusement. "Loyal subjects, power, fame, knowledge... The usual sorts of things a crazed tyrant would like."
He remembered the words she had thrown at him. Oh, that must have hurt his ego then. She would have to remember that.
"What if you could get that without resorting to destroying entire worlds?"
"But where is the fun in that?"
"Just suppose," Natasha insisted.
Loki laughed. "Your masters pull your strings, little spider. I think you've forgotten that."
"Everyone has some. Who pulls your strings?"
He froze for a fraction of a second, a movement she would have missed if she wasn't so thoroughly wrapped up in his arms. Someone indeed had been pulling his strings, perhaps one of the many intergalactic enemies calling for his blood. Clint had alluded to that, which had enraged him weeks ago.
She risked a touch to his chin with her fingertips. "It's not always necessary to fight them alone. Sometimes you can ask for help."
"That always comes with a heavy price."
"You have to decide if it's worth paying."
Loki turned slightly, his interest in this conversation already waning. She shut her lips and let herself settle into his embrace. His heart still beat erratically near her ear. It was impossible to tell if it was anxiety, anticipation or desire. There was possibly no distinction for him, just the thrill of movement and violence, action and reaction, push and pull, utter chaos shattering through order.
Natasha would have to wait and see what happened.
***
"Do you need to visit your keepers?" Loki asked abruptly. Natasha had no idea how much time had passed in this little hideaway. Food simply appeared when she was hungry, and there were no external cues indicating the passage of time.
"How long have we been here?" she asked in return, eyebrow raised. She stretched, seeing him track her movement out of the corner of her eye. With the chill of the room, her nipples were taut points easily visible through the green silk robe. "I had a day off before I had to check in."
Loki's lips twitched into a smile as she turned to face him. "Only a day?"
"Why?"
He was lounging at the desk, reading through one of the thick volumes piled onto it and occasionally taking notes on a piece of parchment with a quill. This was his form of relaxing, so he was more simply dressed in loose fitting black trousers and a gray shirt that laced up at the throat. Natasha knew better than to think he wasn't dangerous, even though he looked rather tranquil. The charming smile on his face would fool anyone unfamiliar with him.
"Time passes differently here. Its ebb and flow would be difficult for your mortal mind to fathom properly," he added, an unctuous note to his voice.
Natasha repressed the urge to roll her eyes at him. "So how much time had passed?"
"Close to a week."
A week. Thor and the others had witnessed her abduction and likely thought she was dead. Clint might be trying to light into Fury for this. Clint wouldn't want to believe that Loki had killed her, if only for personal reasons. They needed each other far too much for death to be a viable ending for either of them. No, he would be looking everywhere and probably begging Thor to contact any Asgardian mages to try to find her.
Fury might actually think she was dead. He might not appear dismayed at that development, but he played his cards close to his vest. Natasha was fairly certain that he appreciated her work. He trusted her, and he was one of the few that she trusted implicitly. His opinion was one of the few that mattered to her, and she would never betray that trust. It had been too hard won to throw away, and she didn't belong anywhere else anymore.
"A week," Natasha echoed, when Loki clearly expected an answer from her. He was watching her too avidly, likely wanting to see her upset. Her features were neutral, not giving him the response that he was looking for.
"They will think the worst of you, poor child. You proved me false, and I ran off with you."
Natasha rolled her shoulders and neck in an easy stretch, hiding the shudder that threatened to roll down her spine. There was still a simmering anger present, and she didn't know if it was directed at her deliberately or simply because she was there. "Then they think the worst of me," she said in a careless tone. "It's happened before."
Loki was watching her intently, and not just for the play of her body as she moved. "Has it?"
"Yes," she said simply, not feeling the need to elaborate.
He stared at her, quill clutched tightly in his hand. "And?"
"And what?" she asked innocently, turning to face him with her head cocked to the side.
"You are not a simpering idiot. How did they stop believing the worst of you?"
"Some never stopped," Natasha said simply, shrugging. "It happens in my line of work."
They stared at each other, and Loki carefully put his quill down before he could break it. "It happens," he echoed slowly. "Does it truly not matter what others think of you?"
"Why should it? I know the truth."
It wasn't a complete lie. There were simply very few people that she actually cared about, but Loki didn't need to know the details. Her apparent indifference seemed to be a troubling enough concept for him to grasp.
Loki stood and approached her, movements stiff and jerky. "What is your truth, then, little spider?" he asked, reaching between them to pull the robe's tie free. "What convenient lie would you tell me, thinking me a fool?"
"You are many things, Loki, but you are not a fool."
His smile was an aggressive baring of teeth as the robe slipped from her shoulders. Pushing it down, Loki didn't bother to track the movement of the silk. "Are you certain?"
"I would wager my life on that."
"And that is one of the few things you truly value, isn't it?"
"It's mine," she murmured softly, letting her hand slide down the soft fabric of his shirt. She didn't want to talk about how the Red Room created personality templates for her to become prior to missions. When she first left them, she had been empty and unsure of who she was. By now, she had built up a life that was Natasha Romanoff, and it was completely hers. No one else created that personality, and she liked it that way.
"You only value what is truly yours," Loki observed.
Natasha nodded, somewhat uncomfortable with how much of her he could see. "I belong to no one else."
"Are you certain of that, little spider? Your keepers think they control you. You dance to their tune, follow their bidding."
"I follow the rules that suit me."
Loki pulled her body against his, fingers pressed tightly to her lower back. "And what are those?" he purred. "You were chasing at shadows. You were meant to lure me in."
"They have resources in their realm," she replied evenly. "How else do you plan to get what you want? You'll need to use the opportunities presented to you."
"Oh, I see many opportunities," he murmured, just before he bent his head down to kiss her roughly. Natasha softened against him, molding her body to his and opening her lips. Loki's tongue darted into her mouth immediately, probing at the recesses of her mouth and licking at her teeth. He started walking backward, toward his desk, and Natasha stumbled forward on the tips of her toes.
Without a word, he broke the kiss to bend Natasha over the writing desk, her bare torso and cheek pressed against the cold material. "I think you enjoy this particular opportunity," Loki murmured before licking his fingers. He slid them through her folds, then inside of her. He growled, a low contented sound, and worked his fingers in and out of her. Natasha sighed, tilting her hips back toward him. "Yes, you do," Loki growled. "A pretty little pet, a plaything all my own," he continued. She wished he would shut his mouth and get on with it already.
She scrabbled for purchase against the sides of the desk as Loki slammed into her repeatedly, filling her with every delicious thrust. Piles of books and parchment slid off the desk as it moved, and a bottle of ink on the other side toppled over, spilling its contents across the edge of the desk and onto the floor. The ink glittered a little in the wan light, as if there had been magic contained within it, as if writing magic spells involved more than simply taking a quill to parchment.
It was easy to focus on those things, on the cold seeping into her skin or the feel of his clothing when it touched her backside. That allowed her to divorce her mind from the sensations flooding through her. Seeing her like this was important to Loki, and she played up her gasps and moans for his sake. Oh, it certainly felt good, and he knew how to pleasure a woman if he put his mind to it. But he wanted to possess her, body and soul, and needed to feel in control. She could see the signs of it; in that, he was just like every other man she'd had to manipulate over the years. Loki called himself a god and he needed to feel as if he was.
Fingers rough against her skin, Loki pulled at her hips with each thrust. He needed to mark her, needed to show dominance in this moment.
She let him, but once he sagged against her body with his release, she moved. Startled, Loki couldn't stop her from twisting around him and flipping him onto his back. Natasha straddled his body and slid onto his cock. When he reached up for her, she shook her head and smirked. "Do I need to tie you down?" she taunted, a sultry look in her eye.
Loki laughed. "Do your worst, little spider."
Laughing, Natasha moved over him, practically using him like a toy. His amusement with her was obvious, and he fondled her breasts as she bounced on his cock and made little gasping sighs of pleasure. When she came, she slowed and leaned forward, her hands against his shoulders for balance. "I'm done now," she announced unnecessarily.
"That was hardly torturous," he scoffed.
"It wasn't meant to be. I never said I'd actually do my worst, you just assumed I would."
As Loki laughed, Natasha smiled. Let him think he was in control. Let him think he had her bound to him through sex and pleasure.
It didn't have to be the truth. She never operated well in the open anyway.
After cleaning them off with magic, Loki presented Natasha with a crystal pendant as well as her clothes. The pendant was a clear stone with a while milky cloud in the center of it. "If you need to return before I come for you, break this. The mist will transport you back here."
"Will you miss me, then?" she asked softly.
His smile was distant, and he hung the chain around her neck. The pendant hung between her breasts and felt as cold as the walls of the hideaway or the desk she had just been pressed up against. "You do not possess any trace of the seidr. You won't find me otherwise."
She cupped his cheek with a hand. "You'll miss me," she murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to his lips. "I'll think of you."
Loki grasped her by the throat and pulled her back in for a desperate, possessive kiss. "Do so," he said, then let her go abruptly. His expression shifted to one of his prideful masks. "We'll meet again, dear spider."
Before she could reply, he pushed her away from him. She stumbled backward through a portal she hadn't seen him open.
Natasha fell through space, thinking she was about to die. She didn't, but it felt like infinity spinning all around her, her mind unable to fathom the vastness of the universe around her.
Clint, she thought, shutting her eyes tightly. Perhaps a thought of him could anchor her, direct her to the proper place and time. She wouldn't put it past Loki to send her forward or backward in time, just to fuck with her.
She landed roughly, the breath knocked out of her. Her head hit the floor, hard enough that she blacked out.
Still, she had a flash of Clint's concerned expression before the darkness took her. I'm home was her last fragment of coherent thought.
***
***
To Chapter Two - Out Of Time