Grave Flowers, 2/2. Clint/Natasha and Loki/Natasha.
Title: Grave Flowers
(Sequel to In A Dead Land)
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: Hard R
Pairing: Loki/Natasha, Clint/Natasha
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Spoilers/Warnings: Follows the Marvel movieverse, so it mentions events from Avengers and IM3. For the avengerkink meme prompt in round 5: Clint and Natasha have an untraditional relationship. Neither of them will ever admit to being in love, but there's no denying that they make each other feel safe. Their time together exists in stolen moments of honesty between missions. It's not necessarily exciting, but it's always what they need.
Note: This directly follows the first story, so you will need to read that one first. I didn't think I'd be writing this one at first, but when phoenixrising06 asked if I was going to write a sequel, the first scene kind of sprang into my head fully formed.
Summary: Following orders, Natasha made Loki emotionally dependent on her. She was precious to Loki, and Clint was precious to her. It became an elaborate web of emotional ties, and she's right in the center of it all.
Prior chapter:
One - Moving Target
Two - Up In Flames
Clint enjoyed sitting on his perch along one of the rooftops of Avengers Tower. That high above midtown Manhattan, he could see for miles in every direction and feel as though he could protect those he cared about. Natasha had gone in to report to Fury, and Loki more or less had been told he wasn't allowed to leave the Tower without her permission. Clint hadn't wanted to cross paths with him, and his perch seemed like a good place to be.
Damn. There was Loki, in dark slacks and a soft green shirt, his hair loose and standing out against the pale skin of his face. He strode out onto the rooftop, eyes on the skyline. His footfalls didn't even falter when he saw Clint on the edge, and he changed direction slightly so that he could approach Clint.
Something white hot that wasn't exactly rage flared to life inside his chest. What could Loki possibly have to say to him? They'd already come to a truce of sorts, and that had already taken a lot out of him. Had he come to gloat? Laugh about how he slept on Natasha's floor of the Tower? Insinuate that Natasha didn't need him anymore?
"This afternoon is a calm one," Loki commented.
Small talk? Really?
"Yeah," Clint replied finally, not sure what else he could say.
"This is hardly the place to practice archery skills."
The bow in his hand was more for the comfort of holding it again. He didn't have his quiver and arrows, but the collapsible bow could still be used to pistol whip someone with fairly good force if he put his mind to it.
"I don't always practice with the bow."
It obviously puzzled Loki, and he stood there for a moment taking in the view. "Natasha cares for you," he began slowly. "You are her hawk, and she values you more than life itself."
The words made him uncomfortable, especially because they were true. Bristling at him, Clint shot up to his feet. Loki merely stared at him, as if he didn't know how much those words cut at him. Or maybe he knew and just didn't care. The bastard had been in his head six months ago, and he knew everything that Clint did. Remembering that feeling now made his blood run cold, sweat breaking out along his spine. He wanted to throw Loki off of the roof and watch him spatter across the concrete below. "Just because I won't kill you where you stand doesn't mean I like you. Don't think we're friends," Clint told Loki, an edge to his tone. "Don't think I've forgotten what you did to me."
Loki had a twitch in the corner of his mouth. "Your name is apt," he began slowly, looking past Clint toward the skyline. "Do you know of falconry?"
"What the hell does that have anything to do with-"
"Hawks are hooded, bound with jesses." Loki turned to look at Clint then, gaze sharp. "They're trained, not tamed. None could truly tame a hawk, or believe it won't take an opportunity to harm the falconer if mistreated. You were never tamed, Hawkeye. It was never the intent."
"Then what was it?" he asked tightly. "You unmade who I was-"
"I made you mine," Loki interrupted, his voice just as soft as before. "But it was only your loyalties that I changed."
Clint glared at him, jaw clenched. "You had me kill fellow agents."
"I claimed you from the start because of the heart you carry. You may have killed in my name, but I suspect anyone else I may have chosen would have been far more ruthless in the endeavor. You didn't shy from battle, Hawk, but neither did you seek it out." Loki turned and looked back over the skyline. His posture was stiff, fingers twitching as if he wanted to clench them into fists. "It would not pain you so if you did not have heart."
"What do you get out of being here?" Clint demanded. "You wouldn't willingly submit to a geas like the one they put on you."
"No, I did not," Loki agreed, voice clipped.
When no further answer seemed forthcoming, Clint nearly growled at him. "What do you get out of being here?"
Loki didn't move, didn't answer for the longest time. "Have you any idea what the passage of time is like on Asgard? They don't speak of it, the cells beneath the palace. They don't talk of the sages they bring in to wind their spells about the rooms. Not even in whispers. Those are the forgotten places, where the worst of the monsters are kept." There was an undercurrent of loathing in his voice, and he finally looked over at Clint. "Oh, yes, Hawk, I know myself to be the monster they name me. I know the loathing they heap upon my name, the lies they assign my name, even ones I never spoke. I know it all. They took great pleasure in recounting them as they took their spells and burned them into my skin, threaded their needles and drew it through resisting flesh."
"Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?" Clint asked when Loki stopped.
"You feel what you wish. That is what happened on Asgard. Can you imagine now why I would submit to your superiors?"
"Do you really submit?" Clint challenged.
Now Loki's lips stretched wide into a smile, mockery blatant to see. "They believe I do, and it's the appearance of the thing."
Clint understood that his loyalty would be to Natasha at this point, perhaps to him after a fashion because she clearly valued him. She is as precious to me as she is to you, Loki had said, as serious as he had ever seen him. "What happens if they think you're too dangerous?" Clint asked after a long, uncomfortable moment.
"They once believed you to be, from what I understand, and it was certainly what they thought of our little spider," Loki murmured. He took a half step toward Clint, not menacing enough to activate his geas, but enough to crowd into his personal space. "I remember what we once spoke of, Hawk. I remember a good many things, some better forgotten, but that I do remember. Your masters here were the safer option to take."
In other words, they weren't necessarily allies or friends, but they weren't enemies.
Refusing to back down, Clint set his jaw and stared down the fallen god. Loki looked away first, to his surprise.
"I won't kill you," Clint said, voice rough with frustration and a dozen tangled emotions he didn't know how to name. "But I don't like you and we're not friends."
"No, we are not," Loki agreed, shoulders slumping a bit. It reminded Clint of the vague, hazy memories he had when he was first taken over, the Tesseract sifting through his memories and changing them. Loki had seemed ill and exhausted, defeat in his stance if not his spirit. He had the same body language now.
Not knowing what to say, Clint left him on the rooftop.
***
Natasha found Loki sitting next to the window, staring out over the city skyline. "Clint said you've spoken," she began, coming into his room.
"After a fashion," he replied. His voice sounded listless to her ears, and Natasha held on tightly to her emotions. She was frustrated enough by this entire situation, she didn't need him pouting because she valued Clint above all else. "He made it clear what he believes of me."
"Which is?"
"I am a soulless monster. A murderer. A torturer." He remained looking out of the window, as if he couldn't bear to see her expression.
Walking up behind him, Natasha put a hand on his shoulder. He leaned into her touch, his eyes closing almost of their own accord. "As I am. As he is, also. You've said my ledger is dripping with red, that he's no more virtuous than myself."
"I was trying to hurt you. Wound you with words. Those were the only weapons I had left, my staff in your possession to twist your emotions."
Natasha let her fingers trail over the skin of his throat. "I know. But truth doesn't wound me in the way that you hoped."
"And now..." He lifted a hand to touch the back of hers. "I gladly hold you here, offer you my throat. Is this not what you wanted? Are you not pleased?"
Yes. No. Not like this.
His hand fell back into his lap when she remained silent. "You are not pleased."
"It's been an exhausting day."
Loki's eyes opened as he turned around in his chair to look at her. His hands snaked out to touch her. "And you are not with your Hawk."
"I was. I'm here now."
Something flashed across his features like jealousy, though he tamped down hard on it. Natasha approved of that, and gently stroked his face. He blinked, startled, nostrils flaring slightly as she leaned in and straddled his seated form. "What do you intend?"
"Nothing," she murmured. "Just being here."
Looping his arms around her, Loki rested his head against her chest. Natasha ran her fingers through his soft hair, stroking his scalp lightly. He made a soft contented noise, rather like a cat, and she smiled gently. She rather doubted that anyone would have thought him capable of this, that he could sit still and be at peace.
"Your heart is calm," Loki commented as she dropped her chin to the crown of his head. "Does this help with your day?"
"Yes," she murmured, continuing to stroke his hair. One hand slid down to his back, nails rubbing lightly along his spine. "I don't enjoy endless briefings and meetings. I prefer action."
"Will those meetings not result in further missions into the field?"
"Probably. They may not involve you," she reminded him.
"I would remain here until your return," Loki murmured with a sigh. One of his hands at her back tightened, as if he could hold her in place forever. "You haven't given leave for more."
"I suppose I don't want the others to try attacking you," Natasha said with a sigh, hearing the thread of discontent in his voice. "They say they'll accept you, but I don't trust it."
"Your trust does not come easily."
"No, it doesn't."
Loki turned his head just enough to press his lips to her skin. He didn't ask if he had her trust, which she appreciated. Natasha wasn't sure what she would answer, anyway. He lifted the back of her shirt from her jeans and touched her skin almost reverently. Looking up at her, he had an almost lost expression on his face. "I trust you," he said finally. "I trust that your hawk will not kill me, though he may fantasize of such things. But you... Even when you could have been, you were not cruel, not really. Harsh, distant perhaps, but you did not revel in my pain when I activated the geas. I've seen your compatriots, and they did enjoy the sight of my pain."
"There's no point to further torture. The dead are still dead, and you've been working on your own balance. You've paid for your crimes."
"Have I really?" he asked quietly, a hard edge to his tone that she hadn't heard in a very long time. It made her wonder what kinds of thoughts rolled about in his head when he was left alone throughout the day.
"Punishment was handed down by Odin, correct?" He nodded stiffly. "You still have the geas stitched into your skin. You're working with SHIELD." Natasha paused. "Perhaps it's more correct to say that you're paying for your crimes. When the term is done, Odin will lift the geas. That's my understanding of it."
His fingers traced a sigil on her skin, though she didn't know what it was. "Do you believe I can? Do you truly believe I can?"
"I have to. I'm working to balance my own ledger, after all." Her voice was dry, causing him to smile in acknowledgement. "It's dripping with red, as you've pointed out. There's no way to erase it, but a balance can be achieved if I try." She cupped his face in her hands. "If you try, you can balance your ledger as well. It's a matter of choice. You choose how to use your skills, and you choose where your loyalties lie."
"You make it sound simple."
"It can be. Just ignore the bullshit that doesn't apply to what you need to do."
He laughed, a bitter, ugly sound that grated on Natasha's nerves. Loki lowered his head back to her chest, mouthing the exposed skin above her shirt. "They've made it clear, I should do whatever it takes to please you."
"Is that what this is?" she asked carefully, voice neutral.
He raised his head again, and something fierce shone in his eyes. "No, little spider. They could not have forseen this, and I doubt they would allow such a thing. Let them think you appease me with your flesh. Let them think it is simple release. Part of you is mine, and I will not relinquish such a thing. I would not have them pry or question our connection and seek to destroy it."
She cupped his face in her hands again and kissed his nose gently. "I don't discuss the particulars, and I know Clint won't. He'd rather not even think of it."
Loki's expression was troubled. "And if it disturbs him too much, would you loosen your hold on me? Would you transfer my care to another?"
"No," Natasha said, voice firm. But she had said she would walk away. She had said she would leave it all behind. Clint had refused the offer three times now, mostly because he understood where her loyalties were and that she couldn't simply walk away. "He won't ask me for that."
"But he could..."
"He won't," she interrupted, her grip on his face tightening fractionally. He stilled beneath her hands, much as he had in the first cell. "He won't," she repeated, voice softer.
"What does this mean, then? The three of us in balance?"
Shit, she hadn't wanted to label this. She hadn't wanted to discuss it.
Knowing it was a chickenshit way to deal with the question, Natasha released Loki to pull off her shirt. "It means we're in balance. It means what we want it to," she said finally. There was no mistaking the hungry look in his eyes, even though he remained still. It means you're both mine, however much good that will do you, she thought, reaching behind her to unhook her bra. It was a simple scrap of fabric with lace trim, but Loki's expression made her feel as though she was deliberately trying to seduce him.
His mouth latched onto one breast as if she was a lifeline. Right now, she probably was. Other than interacting with her or Clint, he was still isolated. Her floor was simply a larger cage to be kept in, and she didn't kid herself on that point. Loki had to want more than that, but wasn't going to ask in case this limited freedom would be whisked away. She had done her job in his prior cells only too well.
Natasha threaded her fingers through his hair again, curling around him and holding him close. Her breath was growing harsh with want, and Loki let his fingers trail down her ribcage to her waist, tracing the skin just above the waistband of her jeans. Letting go of him, she slid off his lap and undid her jeans. She slid them down along with her panties, and Loki watched her avidly. This was no striptease, but he was clearly aroused. He undid the laces at his breeches as he stood, eyes dark with desire, and he grasped her about the waist. He lifted her up as he pulled her closer, and wound up pressing her back against the glass of the window. Kissing and nipping at her neck and mouth, Loki waited until she was slippery with need before thrusting into her. It was over too soon for her to find release, but she didn't mind. Natasha stroked his back and scratched his scalp lightly, waiting until he found his equilibrium again.
"I care for your welfare, little spider," he murmured into her temple. "I would not have harm come to you by my actions or inactions."
"I know," she replied, knowing it to be true.
"Using your hawk before... I know this pains him, so it pains you."
"It gets less intense with time," she said as deflection.
Loki gently helped her down to her feet, fingers tenderly stroking her skin. "You speak from experience," he observed.
"Yes."
"You don't forgive them."
"There's hardly anyone left to forgive. I've killed most of them or caused them to be killed. The ones that are left aren't worth the anger."
Eyes searching her face, Loki nodded slowly. "And so your hawk will not forgive me."
"There are many that won't."
He slid his hand along her waist, pulling her from the window and tucking her against his body. "And what of you, little spider? Would you be able to forgive me?"
She laid her hand on his chest, lip curling in the corner a little when he leaned into the touch, an intent expression on her face. "You're earning your redemption, Loki. That's the way toward forgiveness. There's no forgiveness for the Red Room because they didn't believe they were wrong, never sought forgiveness and wouldn't accept it even if I was able to give it."
"Then perhaps, there is hope that our balance may be maintained," he murmured before leaning in for another kiss.
***
Fury called in his top SHIELD agents as well as Tony Stark, though it looked as though he regretted that as soon as the billionaire arrived. He strolled in with a swagger as if he owned the place and already knew what everyone was going to discuss. Then again, given the information he regularly siphoned off of SHIELD servers, he likely did. Fury shot him a pinched look, lips compressed together, and glared. The glare slid right off of Tony like water off a duck's back, and he lounged in the seat he was offered.
Sitting at attention beside Clint and a newly promoted Level 8 agent, Natasha paid attention to the tick in Fury's jaw, knowing that the information presented wouldn't be good.
"We have word in the Ukraine that the Ten Rings are starting to move into the local mafia trade routes. Preliminary teams sent there haven't come back," he added, looking as though he had bitten into something foul.
"Preliminary teams?" Clint asked, his voice deceptively low and mild. Natasha suppressed the urge to reach over and touch his wrist.
Appearing visibly discomfited, Fury nodded. "Two disappeared without a trace. A third managed to send out a distress call." He tapped out a command on the virtual screen beside him, and the silence around them crackled with static. "...tracked the molfar down... shit, something trigg-I don't know... thing is, Henry-" Incoherent, panicked screaming filled the room before the signal was abruptly cut off.
One of the agents shuddered and nearly looked like he was going to be sick.
"Molfar?" Tony asked, eyebrows raised.
"Sorcerers," Natasha said, a thread of respect in her tone. "White or black magic, depending on the practitioner, and tales sometimes called them demigods because of their power. The old tales maintain that they know the secrets of the four elements, to raise storms or the dead, could shape shift, cure illnesses or drive men insane."
"Apparently, they're not just stories," one of the other agents commented. Natasha nodded slowly, a grave expression on her face. The agent turned away.
"So. In other words, the Ten Rings would be all over this, especially after that last debacle six months ago," Tony said, eyes flicking over to Clint.
"The amulet was their big gun," Clint said, a hard edge to his voice. "Taking it out destroyed the team and a twenty mile radius."
"So either the Ten Rings tracked someone down who can make another one, or they're looking to coerce a molfar into creating a new weapon."
"Considering the power they have," Natasha said dryly, "that would take a lot of coercion. There really isn't anyone who would want to try crossing a molfar if they can help it."
"No one said the Ten Rings had any sense," Tony cut in. "I mean, look at the weapon they had before. Horribly unstable as a power source, took out five times as many of their own guys as it did ours. And they want to do this again? They'll wipe themselves out for us."
"And possibly take out a continent or two along the way," Fury said, glaring at Tony. "You're here because last time your sensors caught a power surge ten minutes before the amulet exploded and killed our men. I want you to scan the Ukraine for a similar signature."
"I suppose this means the rest of us are team number four to go in and find out what happened?"
Fury nodded at Clint. "Yes."
His jaw was tighter than usual, and he stared at Fury for a long moment. "They fight with the intent to kill. Not maim, not disable. Kill. Their belief is absolute. There is no other way but their way."
"We've become aware of that," Fury said, not breaking eye contact with Clint. Natasha had told them how to handle the Ten Rings, but he had dismissed her concern. He had been sure a ten man team would have been good enough for the first cell they uncovered. Now this one had eliminated three other teams of unknown numbers and skill sets, and would be on the alert for more coming after them. "You will do whatever is necessary to contain them."
"Wait, what does that even-?" Tony began, picking up on the grave undertones in Fury's voice.
"Redline mission?" Natasha asked, eyebrow raised. SHEILD didn't usually authorize those.
"Whatever means necessary, agents. I want them contained and I want you back alive. The last two teams had similar orders, but they may not have thought it necessary to go that far."
"Wait," Tony interrupted again, looking perturbed. "You mean kill them?"
"What do you think they'll do to you?" Natasha asked him. "They're not going to invite you over to look at your tech."
Tony blinked and looked away; it reminded her that he had his own demons now, and she couldn't judge him on this. "Yeah, well. Sounds different from Boss Man Fury, you know? I didn't think he did kill orders."
"We're keeping people safe and protecting the planet from those that plan to destroy it," Fury said in a clipped tone. "Think you can track down that magic signature?"
"Sir," Natasha interrupted. "There's the obvious individual you haven't brought here."
Clint was very still, but didn't say a word in opposition. Fury looked from Natasha to Clint, then back at her. "You think that Loki's skills are necessary?"
"He's a magician," Natasha said flatly. "We won't be able to fight magic without magic of our own, and we don't have anyone else."
With a pinched expression, Fury nodded. "Then take him with you. I want the Ten Rings shut down by any means necessary."
Tony at least waited until the meeting was over before he rounded on Natasha. "Can he be trusted? You called him an unknown entity."
"He'll protect the team if I tell him to," she replied evenly. "He doesn't have to like you, and you don't have to like him."
He leveled an assessing gaze on her, then at Clint. "Is this a wise decision?"
"Magic can do anything. I wasn't exaggerating the tales of the molfar. Word had spread into Russia, and they're more than just tales. The Red Room couldn't eliminate them, so they simply stayed out of the Ukraine."
Clint let out a breath and looked over at the other three agents with them. They seemed to be discomfited by this, but would do what was asked of them. Any SHIELD agent would. He wondered how many had already died taking out the Ten Rings cell, and why Fury had waited so long on this. Possibly because he had nearly died at their hands, and even Fury sometimes took individuals' needs into consideration.
"We need a game plan. We'll let Tony figure out a way to track them, and in the meantime we need to know how to attack them and what to do to defend themselves." He turned to Natasha, expression determined. "Get Loki. We'll need him on this."
***
The magic signal was located high in the Carpathian mountains, right where the densest tales of the molfar were located. Tony had seen fit to point out the movie made about one, the band that took on the name and various newspaper articles about benevolent molfars who had healed locals of their illnesses. "Probably isn't our guy," he said, scrolling through the list of names he had collected as he worked on his sensor array. "'Cause you know, the whole not killing thing. Doesn't sound like killing so many agents is good for white magic karma."
"It generally would not be," Loki replied, voice bland. "Their magicks are dependent on the type of forces they wish to manipulate."
"So we're talking death mage now," Tony said, looking over from the list. At Loki's nod, he put the list away. "What kind of magnitude are we talking about, then?"
"The last amulet was charged with two adult deaths and one unborn child's. It killed nine agents, seventeen Ten Rings soldiers and I was able to feel a power displacement from my cell. Now we have the possibility of an item charged with the deaths of at least thirty people." Loki looked at him blandly. "You tell me what kind of magnitude that would be."
"Fuck," Tony muttered, then went back to the program with his calculations. He was going to stay on the Quinjet at Fury's request, and he was ready to comply in this case. "Magic tends to fry out delicate circuitry," he had said at the time.
Clint looked over at Loki. "Can you sense the thing now?"
Loki appeared calm, but Clint could see tension and fear beneath the façade. He didn't know if it was for the unknown magic device or because he was in this company. Prior outings had been just him and Natasha. Still, Clint was glad that Natasha was piloting the Quinjet rather than bearing witness to his disquiet. "There is a sense of unease, but I cannot locate the device for you. Perhaps I could disable it, but more than likely it would involve detonation."
Pale and still, Clint nodded. He looked over at the other three agents with him, all skilled in hand to hand and ranged combat weapons. His last team had been, too, but the amulet had gone off like a bomb. None of them could outpace that. They knew it, and were treating this more like a suicide mission. It could very well be, given the outcome for the last three teams.
Natasha landed the Quinjet at the closest facility that she could, but it was still a sixty mile trek through the mountains to the area that Tony outlined. He was supposed to remain behind on the Quinjet, but Clint wasn't exactly surprised to see him suiting up to follow them. "Just in case," Tony said, as if Fury hadn't forbidden it. Clint had thought he acquiesced too easily. "You never know when you might need a few repulsor blasts."
"Have a care what you destroy with it," Loki said quietly. "We do not know what they have poured this energy into. Until we know, treat everything delicately."
The trek through the mountains was largely silent. Everyone pushed themselves hard, hoping that they could reach the suspected location without too much warning to the Ten Rings flunkies. It was difficult terrain, so finally the team called a halt to the expedition and made a meager camp to rest. Loki put a protective circle around their campsite so that any spells or ranged equipment couldn't locate them. Clint saw how Loki's eyes tracked Natasha, but he made no untoward moves and didn't do or say anything to bring attention to himself. If anything, it was the drawn expression on his face when he looked at Clint or the rest of the team that made Clint wonder what had happened. It was worry, but what for? Did he think someone on the team would harm him if he wasn't useful? Or did he think Natasha would withhold her protection? He knew Natasha said Loki cared for her, but Clint didn't want to believe that. There was an ulterior motive. There had to be.
Because if there wasn't, then Clint would have to consider Loki a permanent fixture, and he wasn't ready to think about that. Right now, he could tell himself it was a job, just like Natasha had told him. He could tell himself it didn't matter what Loki felt, he was just playing SHIELD to be free of Asgard. He could tell himself that Loki was biding his time until he could raze his enemies to the ground. But if he had genuine feeling involved, if he was truly involved and motivated by that connection, it would make him all too human for comfort.
For all of their caution, the team was flushed out when they reached the perimeter of the complex they were approaching. The first clue was a bolt of fire that simply appeared out of nowhere, right on top of the agent in front of Tony. Loki whipped around from his lead position and sang out a spell that snatched the unfortunate agent from the fire, leaving her hair and clothing singed but thankfully nothing else. She stammered her thanks with wide eyes, and everyone else took out their guns. "On alert," Natasha said, voice sharp. Clint knew she hated group missions like this, and preferred working solo or in groups no larger than three. Infiltration was much harder with a larger group.
There was nothing to aim at, but fire burst intermittently out of the ground. Loki had his hands full yanking the agents out of the fires, hands raised and a soft glow beneath his skin. It wasn't the geas activating, so Clint could only assume it was the sheer force of magic trying to exit his body to save them. It was an uncomfortable thought, so he kept an arrow nocked and his eyes scouring the surrounding area to find a target. "I'm going to need to get up high," he called out to the others. "I can't see anything down here."
"Point where you wanna go, and I'll take you there. Stay safe, Legolas," Tony called out, flying over to pick him up.
It wasn't Clint's preferred way to travel, but it got the job done. He managed to shoot down two snipers and had Tony leave him in the second sniper's nest. As high up as it was, he couldn't see anything that might indicate a spell caster. He shot at whatever snipers he could find, but finally he growled into the comms "I can't see a fucking thing, even from up here. No one's casting a damn thing."
"I assure you," Loki replied, voice tight with strain, "someone is indeed on the field. Mortal magic depends largely on line of sight." An explosion went off, a blast of fire and debris that barely missed Tony. Loki cursed in what must have been colorful Asgardian, and Clint could see him whip around to try to take in the field surrounding the compound. "Look for a shimmer. These fools can't cast true invisibility."
It was hard to see, but he thought he could see a wavering edge to the air at the edge of the courtyard, right under an archway leading into the rest of the compound. Clint shot an explosive arrow there, and he saw some of the stone chips from the archway bounce off of nothing.
"Gotcha, you bastard," he muttered, letting loose another arrow.
A wall of flame flew up, intending to interfere and burn the arrow midflight. Loki roared in that same language he had been chanting in, and ice formed right over the wall. Steam hissed up, but Clint's arrow sliced cleanly through the steam without difficulty. The caster screamed when the arrow hit him.
And then Natasha was screaming in the courtyard, fire erupting everywhere at once. Loki bodily threw himself over her, shouting, one arm flung up over them as he tried to ward off the incoming flames. One of the other SHIELD agents began screaming as his clothes caught fire, but this fire couldn't be put out by rolling on the ground. Clint started to swing himself over the edge of his perch, the distance to the ground be damned, but saw Natasha darting away from the inferno. She was intact, thankfully, only part of her hair singed.
Loki, however, was on fire.
He was glowing from the inside, an unearthly blue glow suffusing his skin. He stalked forward as if the fire wasn't harming him, as if his clothes weren't turning to ash. A flick of his wrist sent ice hurtling toward the burning agent, and for a moment Clint wondered if this was where he turned and killed them all.
The agent quieted down to whimpers, ice suffocating the flames and putting them out. Clint could see Natasha darting back into the fray holding a submachine gun she must have liberated from a Ten Rings guard. She took point over the fallen man's body, crouched low to keep herself a smaller target. Clint frantically searched the rest of the courtyard, and he could see Tony blasting at least four Ten Rings guards, and the other two SHIELD agents in combat.
Loki held the spell caster up by the throat, Clint's arrow embedded in his side. He was wearing a gaudy amulet that looked exactly like the one that Clint had destroyed in Mongolia, ten rings of varying colors on all ten fingers of his hands. The geas was activated, and Loki was visibly fighting it to hold the caster in place with one hand and attempt to rip the amulet from his neck with the other. His limbs jerked and his head bobbed; Clint could imagine his greet teeth and manic gaze. That expression still haunted his dreams.
But when Loki turned in a spasm, there was only agony and distress on his face. He sought out Natasha as his hand closed around the amulet, as if she was the only thing that allowed him to stay upright. The spell lines and scars on his pale skin were livid, as if they were burning him from the inside out the way the blue glow had done.
Clint didn't question why seeing this made his gut churn and his chest ache. He let loose an arrow that hit the caster dead center in the forehead just as Loki tore the amulet off of his chest.
There was an explosion, but it was nowhere near the catastrophic damage that Clint barely survived in Mongolia. It was fire and bright light, magnified a thousand fold off of the glittering shards of ice that Loki had left all over the courtyard to put out the fires. The god in question lay on the ground, twitching and spasming as if in the middle of a seizure, the amulet clutched in his hand. It looked like a death grip, and the sight humbled Clint.
He descended carefully from his perch, shooting whoever he had to in order to approach the mayhem safely. By the time he reached Natasha and Loki, his quiver was empty and his pulse raced erratically. He wanted to say that Loki sacrificed himself to save Natasha, but that wasn't so. Loki had acted to save the other agents, and had charged ahead to stop the spell caster. If he had only cared for Natasha, he would have remained lying on top of her. Instead, he was having a grand mal seizure and at least half of his body was burnt to a crisp.
Natasha knelt at his side, a hand on his forehead as if she could stop him from seizing with only her touch. When she looked up at Clint, her eyes shone suspiciously. "It won't stop."
All that she didn't say was still conveyed in her tone. She worried about Loki, she worried about Clint, she still felt obligated to take out the remaining Ten Rings fighters in the courtyard and keep their fellow agents alive. "Go," Clint heard himself say. "Take the rings and the amulet, wrap them up or something. They'll need to be studied in a safe place. I'll stay with him."
She nodded and got up to take the objects and finish the mission. Clint knelt down by Loki's side. The intensity of the seizures hadn't lessened in the time it took to get to him, which had to be what worried Natasha. They did seem to be less intense after she took away the amulet and moved to get the rings. Reaching down, Clint forced Loki's jaws open to be sure he didn't bite off his tongue or choke on it, and he turned him sideways. "Don't die," Clint growled into his ear, holding Loki so he stopped thrashing and beating his head on the stone floor. "She'll never forgive you if you do."
There was nothing to give him for the seizures, so the most Clint could do was hang on until they finally stopped. Tony, Natasha and the two relatively unharmed agents rounded up or killed the Ten Rings fighters that simply refused to stop. The burned agent lay quietly, but his chest still moved. Loki had saved his life with the ice.
It was eerie to be holding onto a sickly looking Loki, his body limp from exertion and the seizure. The blinding geas light was gone, leaving angry red scar lines around his mouth. He looked weak and vulnerable, as broken as when he first arrived in SHIELD's custody. They took their spells and burned them into my skin, Loki had said to him on the rooftop weeks before. Clint hadn't wanted to listen then, had wanted to believe the worst still remained inside him. They threaded their needles and drew it through resisting flesh.
"I think we're done here," Natasha said finally, coming to his side. She laid a hand on Clint's shoulder, fingertips brushing against the side of his neck. Her eyes were on his face, and she only looked down at Loki when he nodded at her. "Let's go home."
***
Natasha had stayed in Clint's bed after their return from the Ukraine. The fallout was thankfully short but still painful. The molfar they had been looking for had been killed; the spell caster they had fought was not the molfar but one of the Ten Rings' inner circle. The molfar's energies had been funneled into the amulet along with the deaths of the prior agents sent to get him. It had been the catalyst to get the Ten Rings' caster up to a detectable power level for Tony's scanner, but also let him cast fire spells with impunity. The amulet and rings were considered dangerous and would need to be destroyed with Loki's guidance once he gained consciousness.
If he gained consciousness.
In the two weeks of debriefings, he lay silent and still in Medical. Natasha lay in Clint's arms as if he could keep her from sinking under a wave of regrets; he was sure that she considered Loki one of the red names in her ledger now. She had played him and gotten tangled in return, but he had only taken on the caster because of her. Clint tried to tell her in words and with his body that she wasn't at fault; he had to know what he was doing, had to know the risk involved in attacking the caster directly. Clint would have done the same thing to keep Natasha safe, just as she would do the same for him.
She burrowed into his side at night, clutching him close. He told her the truth, always the truth, and she knew he would do that for her. Still, she carried her ledger at all times.
He went with her on her visits to Loki's bedside, as uncomfortable as it made him. He was there for her, just as she was always there for him. His discomfort at this time wasn't necessarily that it was Loki. If he was completely honest with himself - which he would rather not be, thank you very much - it had been due to fear that Loki would be more important to her than he was. He had some kind of place in her affections, and no matter how often Natasha told him that their relationship wouldn't change, Clint was always afraid it would. Who was he in the grand scheme of things, after all? He was a human archer, an ex-carnie that fell into the military and SHIELD protocols. He brought her in instead of killing her. He valued her opinion far more than was probably healthy for either of them. Loki carried magic woven into his very being, and had more power than any mortal practitioner could ever dream of having. While he was clearly troubled, he was a meatier puzzle for Natasha to sink into, more of a challenge for her. What kind of hold could he possibly have over her?
But she held onto his arm tightly as they sat side by side in their vigil. Natasha never acted as if he wasn't important. She always looked him right in the eye when she said she trusted him, when she wanted his input. "You matter," she'd always said. They never lied to each other, not about that, and he had to trust her more than his own tortured gut.
When Loki finally opened his eyes and took in a pained breath, Natasha smiled. It wasn't the same kind of smile she had for him after his cognitive recalibration. It wasn't the same kind of secret smile the two of them shared. There was relief, and yes, affection. The intensity was different. And when Natasha looked at him, the smile softened further still. She looked at him the same as she always did, and some of the jealousy seemed to loosen its hold on Clint. "Look who's come back to us," Natasha said, lips quirking slightly.
Us. Because really, the two of them were a pair. Dealing with one inevitably meant dealing with the other.
"Yeah," Clint said, looking over at Loki's wan expression. He could afford to grin amiably at the trickster. He had risked his life for Natasha's, after all. Loki hadn't reneged on his deal with SHIELD. Clint could probably learn to live with him. Probably. "Welcome back to the land of the living, Loki. Good to have to you back."
Loki blinked, perhaps in surprise. "Good to be back, then," he said slowly, his voice a slow rasp.
Clint was sure it would be awkward for a while. But perhaps they could figure out this balancing act between the three of them after all.
The End.
(Sequel to In A Dead Land)
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: Hard R
Pairing: Loki/Natasha, Clint/Natasha
Disclaimer: Not mine.
Spoilers/Warnings: Follows the Marvel movieverse, so it mentions events from Avengers and IM3. For the avengerkink meme prompt in round 5: Clint and Natasha have an untraditional relationship. Neither of them will ever admit to being in love, but there's no denying that they make each other feel safe. Their time together exists in stolen moments of honesty between missions. It's not necessarily exciting, but it's always what they need.
Note: This directly follows the first story, so you will need to read that one first. I didn't think I'd be writing this one at first, but when phoenixrising06 asked if I was going to write a sequel, the first scene kind of sprang into my head fully formed.
Summary: Following orders, Natasha made Loki emotionally dependent on her. She was precious to Loki, and Clint was precious to her. It became an elaborate web of emotional ties, and she's right in the center of it all.
Prior chapter:
One - Moving Target
Two - Up In Flames
Clint enjoyed sitting on his perch along one of the rooftops of Avengers Tower. That high above midtown Manhattan, he could see for miles in every direction and feel as though he could protect those he cared about. Natasha had gone in to report to Fury, and Loki more or less had been told he wasn't allowed to leave the Tower without her permission. Clint hadn't wanted to cross paths with him, and his perch seemed like a good place to be.
Damn. There was Loki, in dark slacks and a soft green shirt, his hair loose and standing out against the pale skin of his face. He strode out onto the rooftop, eyes on the skyline. His footfalls didn't even falter when he saw Clint on the edge, and he changed direction slightly so that he could approach Clint.
Something white hot that wasn't exactly rage flared to life inside his chest. What could Loki possibly have to say to him? They'd already come to a truce of sorts, and that had already taken a lot out of him. Had he come to gloat? Laugh about how he slept on Natasha's floor of the Tower? Insinuate that Natasha didn't need him anymore?
"This afternoon is a calm one," Loki commented.
Small talk? Really?
"Yeah," Clint replied finally, not sure what else he could say.
"This is hardly the place to practice archery skills."
The bow in his hand was more for the comfort of holding it again. He didn't have his quiver and arrows, but the collapsible bow could still be used to pistol whip someone with fairly good force if he put his mind to it.
"I don't always practice with the bow."
It obviously puzzled Loki, and he stood there for a moment taking in the view. "Natasha cares for you," he began slowly. "You are her hawk, and she values you more than life itself."
The words made him uncomfortable, especially because they were true. Bristling at him, Clint shot up to his feet. Loki merely stared at him, as if he didn't know how much those words cut at him. Or maybe he knew and just didn't care. The bastard had been in his head six months ago, and he knew everything that Clint did. Remembering that feeling now made his blood run cold, sweat breaking out along his spine. He wanted to throw Loki off of the roof and watch him spatter across the concrete below. "Just because I won't kill you where you stand doesn't mean I like you. Don't think we're friends," Clint told Loki, an edge to his tone. "Don't think I've forgotten what you did to me."
Loki had a twitch in the corner of his mouth. "Your name is apt," he began slowly, looking past Clint toward the skyline. "Do you know of falconry?"
"What the hell does that have anything to do with-"
"Hawks are hooded, bound with jesses." Loki turned to look at Clint then, gaze sharp. "They're trained, not tamed. None could truly tame a hawk, or believe it won't take an opportunity to harm the falconer if mistreated. You were never tamed, Hawkeye. It was never the intent."
"Then what was it?" he asked tightly. "You unmade who I was-"
"I made you mine," Loki interrupted, his voice just as soft as before. "But it was only your loyalties that I changed."
Clint glared at him, jaw clenched. "You had me kill fellow agents."
"I claimed you from the start because of the heart you carry. You may have killed in my name, but I suspect anyone else I may have chosen would have been far more ruthless in the endeavor. You didn't shy from battle, Hawk, but neither did you seek it out." Loki turned and looked back over the skyline. His posture was stiff, fingers twitching as if he wanted to clench them into fists. "It would not pain you so if you did not have heart."
"What do you get out of being here?" Clint demanded. "You wouldn't willingly submit to a geas like the one they put on you."
"No, I did not," Loki agreed, voice clipped.
When no further answer seemed forthcoming, Clint nearly growled at him. "What do you get out of being here?"
Loki didn't move, didn't answer for the longest time. "Have you any idea what the passage of time is like on Asgard? They don't speak of it, the cells beneath the palace. They don't talk of the sages they bring in to wind their spells about the rooms. Not even in whispers. Those are the forgotten places, where the worst of the monsters are kept." There was an undercurrent of loathing in his voice, and he finally looked over at Clint. "Oh, yes, Hawk, I know myself to be the monster they name me. I know the loathing they heap upon my name, the lies they assign my name, even ones I never spoke. I know it all. They took great pleasure in recounting them as they took their spells and burned them into my skin, threaded their needles and drew it through resisting flesh."
"Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?" Clint asked when Loki stopped.
"You feel what you wish. That is what happened on Asgard. Can you imagine now why I would submit to your superiors?"
"Do you really submit?" Clint challenged.
Now Loki's lips stretched wide into a smile, mockery blatant to see. "They believe I do, and it's the appearance of the thing."
Clint understood that his loyalty would be to Natasha at this point, perhaps to him after a fashion because she clearly valued him. She is as precious to me as she is to you, Loki had said, as serious as he had ever seen him. "What happens if they think you're too dangerous?" Clint asked after a long, uncomfortable moment.
"They once believed you to be, from what I understand, and it was certainly what they thought of our little spider," Loki murmured. He took a half step toward Clint, not menacing enough to activate his geas, but enough to crowd into his personal space. "I remember what we once spoke of, Hawk. I remember a good many things, some better forgotten, but that I do remember. Your masters here were the safer option to take."
In other words, they weren't necessarily allies or friends, but they weren't enemies.
Refusing to back down, Clint set his jaw and stared down the fallen god. Loki looked away first, to his surprise.
"I won't kill you," Clint said, voice rough with frustration and a dozen tangled emotions he didn't know how to name. "But I don't like you and we're not friends."
"No, we are not," Loki agreed, shoulders slumping a bit. It reminded Clint of the vague, hazy memories he had when he was first taken over, the Tesseract sifting through his memories and changing them. Loki had seemed ill and exhausted, defeat in his stance if not his spirit. He had the same body language now.
Not knowing what to say, Clint left him on the rooftop.
***
Natasha found Loki sitting next to the window, staring out over the city skyline. "Clint said you've spoken," she began, coming into his room.
"After a fashion," he replied. His voice sounded listless to her ears, and Natasha held on tightly to her emotions. She was frustrated enough by this entire situation, she didn't need him pouting because she valued Clint above all else. "He made it clear what he believes of me."
"Which is?"
"I am a soulless monster. A murderer. A torturer." He remained looking out of the window, as if he couldn't bear to see her expression.
Walking up behind him, Natasha put a hand on his shoulder. He leaned into her touch, his eyes closing almost of their own accord. "As I am. As he is, also. You've said my ledger is dripping with red, that he's no more virtuous than myself."
"I was trying to hurt you. Wound you with words. Those were the only weapons I had left, my staff in your possession to twist your emotions."
Natasha let her fingers trail over the skin of his throat. "I know. But truth doesn't wound me in the way that you hoped."
"And now..." He lifted a hand to touch the back of hers. "I gladly hold you here, offer you my throat. Is this not what you wanted? Are you not pleased?"
Yes. No. Not like this.
His hand fell back into his lap when she remained silent. "You are not pleased."
"It's been an exhausting day."
Loki's eyes opened as he turned around in his chair to look at her. His hands snaked out to touch her. "And you are not with your Hawk."
"I was. I'm here now."
Something flashed across his features like jealousy, though he tamped down hard on it. Natasha approved of that, and gently stroked his face. He blinked, startled, nostrils flaring slightly as she leaned in and straddled his seated form. "What do you intend?"
"Nothing," she murmured. "Just being here."
Looping his arms around her, Loki rested his head against her chest. Natasha ran her fingers through his soft hair, stroking his scalp lightly. He made a soft contented noise, rather like a cat, and she smiled gently. She rather doubted that anyone would have thought him capable of this, that he could sit still and be at peace.
"Your heart is calm," Loki commented as she dropped her chin to the crown of his head. "Does this help with your day?"
"Yes," she murmured, continuing to stroke his hair. One hand slid down to his back, nails rubbing lightly along his spine. "I don't enjoy endless briefings and meetings. I prefer action."
"Will those meetings not result in further missions into the field?"
"Probably. They may not involve you," she reminded him.
"I would remain here until your return," Loki murmured with a sigh. One of his hands at her back tightened, as if he could hold her in place forever. "You haven't given leave for more."
"I suppose I don't want the others to try attacking you," Natasha said with a sigh, hearing the thread of discontent in his voice. "They say they'll accept you, but I don't trust it."
"Your trust does not come easily."
"No, it doesn't."
Loki turned his head just enough to press his lips to her skin. He didn't ask if he had her trust, which she appreciated. Natasha wasn't sure what she would answer, anyway. He lifted the back of her shirt from her jeans and touched her skin almost reverently. Looking up at her, he had an almost lost expression on his face. "I trust you," he said finally. "I trust that your hawk will not kill me, though he may fantasize of such things. But you... Even when you could have been, you were not cruel, not really. Harsh, distant perhaps, but you did not revel in my pain when I activated the geas. I've seen your compatriots, and they did enjoy the sight of my pain."
"There's no point to further torture. The dead are still dead, and you've been working on your own balance. You've paid for your crimes."
"Have I really?" he asked quietly, a hard edge to his tone that she hadn't heard in a very long time. It made her wonder what kinds of thoughts rolled about in his head when he was left alone throughout the day.
"Punishment was handed down by Odin, correct?" He nodded stiffly. "You still have the geas stitched into your skin. You're working with SHIELD." Natasha paused. "Perhaps it's more correct to say that you're paying for your crimes. When the term is done, Odin will lift the geas. That's my understanding of it."
His fingers traced a sigil on her skin, though she didn't know what it was. "Do you believe I can? Do you truly believe I can?"
"I have to. I'm working to balance my own ledger, after all." Her voice was dry, causing him to smile in acknowledgement. "It's dripping with red, as you've pointed out. There's no way to erase it, but a balance can be achieved if I try." She cupped his face in her hands. "If you try, you can balance your ledger as well. It's a matter of choice. You choose how to use your skills, and you choose where your loyalties lie."
"You make it sound simple."
"It can be. Just ignore the bullshit that doesn't apply to what you need to do."
He laughed, a bitter, ugly sound that grated on Natasha's nerves. Loki lowered his head back to her chest, mouthing the exposed skin above her shirt. "They've made it clear, I should do whatever it takes to please you."
"Is that what this is?" she asked carefully, voice neutral.
He raised his head again, and something fierce shone in his eyes. "No, little spider. They could not have forseen this, and I doubt they would allow such a thing. Let them think you appease me with your flesh. Let them think it is simple release. Part of you is mine, and I will not relinquish such a thing. I would not have them pry or question our connection and seek to destroy it."
She cupped his face in her hands again and kissed his nose gently. "I don't discuss the particulars, and I know Clint won't. He'd rather not even think of it."
Loki's expression was troubled. "And if it disturbs him too much, would you loosen your hold on me? Would you transfer my care to another?"
"No," Natasha said, voice firm. But she had said she would walk away. She had said she would leave it all behind. Clint had refused the offer three times now, mostly because he understood where her loyalties were and that she couldn't simply walk away. "He won't ask me for that."
"But he could..."
"He won't," she interrupted, her grip on his face tightening fractionally. He stilled beneath her hands, much as he had in the first cell. "He won't," she repeated, voice softer.
"What does this mean, then? The three of us in balance?"
Shit, she hadn't wanted to label this. She hadn't wanted to discuss it.
Knowing it was a chickenshit way to deal with the question, Natasha released Loki to pull off her shirt. "It means we're in balance. It means what we want it to," she said finally. There was no mistaking the hungry look in his eyes, even though he remained still. It means you're both mine, however much good that will do you, she thought, reaching behind her to unhook her bra. It was a simple scrap of fabric with lace trim, but Loki's expression made her feel as though she was deliberately trying to seduce him.
His mouth latched onto one breast as if she was a lifeline. Right now, she probably was. Other than interacting with her or Clint, he was still isolated. Her floor was simply a larger cage to be kept in, and she didn't kid herself on that point. Loki had to want more than that, but wasn't going to ask in case this limited freedom would be whisked away. She had done her job in his prior cells only too well.
Natasha threaded her fingers through his hair again, curling around him and holding him close. Her breath was growing harsh with want, and Loki let his fingers trail down her ribcage to her waist, tracing the skin just above the waistband of her jeans. Letting go of him, she slid off his lap and undid her jeans. She slid them down along with her panties, and Loki watched her avidly. This was no striptease, but he was clearly aroused. He undid the laces at his breeches as he stood, eyes dark with desire, and he grasped her about the waist. He lifted her up as he pulled her closer, and wound up pressing her back against the glass of the window. Kissing and nipping at her neck and mouth, Loki waited until she was slippery with need before thrusting into her. It was over too soon for her to find release, but she didn't mind. Natasha stroked his back and scratched his scalp lightly, waiting until he found his equilibrium again.
"I care for your welfare, little spider," he murmured into her temple. "I would not have harm come to you by my actions or inactions."
"I know," she replied, knowing it to be true.
"Using your hawk before... I know this pains him, so it pains you."
"It gets less intense with time," she said as deflection.
Loki gently helped her down to her feet, fingers tenderly stroking her skin. "You speak from experience," he observed.
"Yes."
"You don't forgive them."
"There's hardly anyone left to forgive. I've killed most of them or caused them to be killed. The ones that are left aren't worth the anger."
Eyes searching her face, Loki nodded slowly. "And so your hawk will not forgive me."
"There are many that won't."
He slid his hand along her waist, pulling her from the window and tucking her against his body. "And what of you, little spider? Would you be able to forgive me?"
She laid her hand on his chest, lip curling in the corner a little when he leaned into the touch, an intent expression on her face. "You're earning your redemption, Loki. That's the way toward forgiveness. There's no forgiveness for the Red Room because they didn't believe they were wrong, never sought forgiveness and wouldn't accept it even if I was able to give it."
"Then perhaps, there is hope that our balance may be maintained," he murmured before leaning in for another kiss.
***
Fury called in his top SHIELD agents as well as Tony Stark, though it looked as though he regretted that as soon as the billionaire arrived. He strolled in with a swagger as if he owned the place and already knew what everyone was going to discuss. Then again, given the information he regularly siphoned off of SHIELD servers, he likely did. Fury shot him a pinched look, lips compressed together, and glared. The glare slid right off of Tony like water off a duck's back, and he lounged in the seat he was offered.
Sitting at attention beside Clint and a newly promoted Level 8 agent, Natasha paid attention to the tick in Fury's jaw, knowing that the information presented wouldn't be good.
"We have word in the Ukraine that the Ten Rings are starting to move into the local mafia trade routes. Preliminary teams sent there haven't come back," he added, looking as though he had bitten into something foul.
"Preliminary teams?" Clint asked, his voice deceptively low and mild. Natasha suppressed the urge to reach over and touch his wrist.
Appearing visibly discomfited, Fury nodded. "Two disappeared without a trace. A third managed to send out a distress call." He tapped out a command on the virtual screen beside him, and the silence around them crackled with static. "...tracked the molfar down... shit, something trigg-I don't know... thing is, Henry-" Incoherent, panicked screaming filled the room before the signal was abruptly cut off.
One of the agents shuddered and nearly looked like he was going to be sick.
"Molfar?" Tony asked, eyebrows raised.
"Sorcerers," Natasha said, a thread of respect in her tone. "White or black magic, depending on the practitioner, and tales sometimes called them demigods because of their power. The old tales maintain that they know the secrets of the four elements, to raise storms or the dead, could shape shift, cure illnesses or drive men insane."
"Apparently, they're not just stories," one of the other agents commented. Natasha nodded slowly, a grave expression on her face. The agent turned away.
"So. In other words, the Ten Rings would be all over this, especially after that last debacle six months ago," Tony said, eyes flicking over to Clint.
"The amulet was their big gun," Clint said, a hard edge to his voice. "Taking it out destroyed the team and a twenty mile radius."
"So either the Ten Rings tracked someone down who can make another one, or they're looking to coerce a molfar into creating a new weapon."
"Considering the power they have," Natasha said dryly, "that would take a lot of coercion. There really isn't anyone who would want to try crossing a molfar if they can help it."
"No one said the Ten Rings had any sense," Tony cut in. "I mean, look at the weapon they had before. Horribly unstable as a power source, took out five times as many of their own guys as it did ours. And they want to do this again? They'll wipe themselves out for us."
"And possibly take out a continent or two along the way," Fury said, glaring at Tony. "You're here because last time your sensors caught a power surge ten minutes before the amulet exploded and killed our men. I want you to scan the Ukraine for a similar signature."
"I suppose this means the rest of us are team number four to go in and find out what happened?"
Fury nodded at Clint. "Yes."
His jaw was tighter than usual, and he stared at Fury for a long moment. "They fight with the intent to kill. Not maim, not disable. Kill. Their belief is absolute. There is no other way but their way."
"We've become aware of that," Fury said, not breaking eye contact with Clint. Natasha had told them how to handle the Ten Rings, but he had dismissed her concern. He had been sure a ten man team would have been good enough for the first cell they uncovered. Now this one had eliminated three other teams of unknown numbers and skill sets, and would be on the alert for more coming after them. "You will do whatever is necessary to contain them."
"Wait, what does that even-?" Tony began, picking up on the grave undertones in Fury's voice.
"Redline mission?" Natasha asked, eyebrow raised. SHEILD didn't usually authorize those.
"Whatever means necessary, agents. I want them contained and I want you back alive. The last two teams had similar orders, but they may not have thought it necessary to go that far."
"Wait," Tony interrupted again, looking perturbed. "You mean kill them?"
"What do you think they'll do to you?" Natasha asked him. "They're not going to invite you over to look at your tech."
Tony blinked and looked away; it reminded her that he had his own demons now, and she couldn't judge him on this. "Yeah, well. Sounds different from Boss Man Fury, you know? I didn't think he did kill orders."
"We're keeping people safe and protecting the planet from those that plan to destroy it," Fury said in a clipped tone. "Think you can track down that magic signature?"
"Sir," Natasha interrupted. "There's the obvious individual you haven't brought here."
Clint was very still, but didn't say a word in opposition. Fury looked from Natasha to Clint, then back at her. "You think that Loki's skills are necessary?"
"He's a magician," Natasha said flatly. "We won't be able to fight magic without magic of our own, and we don't have anyone else."
With a pinched expression, Fury nodded. "Then take him with you. I want the Ten Rings shut down by any means necessary."
Tony at least waited until the meeting was over before he rounded on Natasha. "Can he be trusted? You called him an unknown entity."
"He'll protect the team if I tell him to," she replied evenly. "He doesn't have to like you, and you don't have to like him."
He leveled an assessing gaze on her, then at Clint. "Is this a wise decision?"
"Magic can do anything. I wasn't exaggerating the tales of the molfar. Word had spread into Russia, and they're more than just tales. The Red Room couldn't eliminate them, so they simply stayed out of the Ukraine."
Clint let out a breath and looked over at the other three agents with them. They seemed to be discomfited by this, but would do what was asked of them. Any SHIELD agent would. He wondered how many had already died taking out the Ten Rings cell, and why Fury had waited so long on this. Possibly because he had nearly died at their hands, and even Fury sometimes took individuals' needs into consideration.
"We need a game plan. We'll let Tony figure out a way to track them, and in the meantime we need to know how to attack them and what to do to defend themselves." He turned to Natasha, expression determined. "Get Loki. We'll need him on this."
***
The magic signal was located high in the Carpathian mountains, right where the densest tales of the molfar were located. Tony had seen fit to point out the movie made about one, the band that took on the name and various newspaper articles about benevolent molfars who had healed locals of their illnesses. "Probably isn't our guy," he said, scrolling through the list of names he had collected as he worked on his sensor array. "'Cause you know, the whole not killing thing. Doesn't sound like killing so many agents is good for white magic karma."
"It generally would not be," Loki replied, voice bland. "Their magicks are dependent on the type of forces they wish to manipulate."
"So we're talking death mage now," Tony said, looking over from the list. At Loki's nod, he put the list away. "What kind of magnitude are we talking about, then?"
"The last amulet was charged with two adult deaths and one unborn child's. It killed nine agents, seventeen Ten Rings soldiers and I was able to feel a power displacement from my cell. Now we have the possibility of an item charged with the deaths of at least thirty people." Loki looked at him blandly. "You tell me what kind of magnitude that would be."
"Fuck," Tony muttered, then went back to the program with his calculations. He was going to stay on the Quinjet at Fury's request, and he was ready to comply in this case. "Magic tends to fry out delicate circuitry," he had said at the time.
Clint looked over at Loki. "Can you sense the thing now?"
Loki appeared calm, but Clint could see tension and fear beneath the façade. He didn't know if it was for the unknown magic device or because he was in this company. Prior outings had been just him and Natasha. Still, Clint was glad that Natasha was piloting the Quinjet rather than bearing witness to his disquiet. "There is a sense of unease, but I cannot locate the device for you. Perhaps I could disable it, but more than likely it would involve detonation."
Pale and still, Clint nodded. He looked over at the other three agents with him, all skilled in hand to hand and ranged combat weapons. His last team had been, too, but the amulet had gone off like a bomb. None of them could outpace that. They knew it, and were treating this more like a suicide mission. It could very well be, given the outcome for the last three teams.
Natasha landed the Quinjet at the closest facility that she could, but it was still a sixty mile trek through the mountains to the area that Tony outlined. He was supposed to remain behind on the Quinjet, but Clint wasn't exactly surprised to see him suiting up to follow them. "Just in case," Tony said, as if Fury hadn't forbidden it. Clint had thought he acquiesced too easily. "You never know when you might need a few repulsor blasts."
"Have a care what you destroy with it," Loki said quietly. "We do not know what they have poured this energy into. Until we know, treat everything delicately."
The trek through the mountains was largely silent. Everyone pushed themselves hard, hoping that they could reach the suspected location without too much warning to the Ten Rings flunkies. It was difficult terrain, so finally the team called a halt to the expedition and made a meager camp to rest. Loki put a protective circle around their campsite so that any spells or ranged equipment couldn't locate them. Clint saw how Loki's eyes tracked Natasha, but he made no untoward moves and didn't do or say anything to bring attention to himself. If anything, it was the drawn expression on his face when he looked at Clint or the rest of the team that made Clint wonder what had happened. It was worry, but what for? Did he think someone on the team would harm him if he wasn't useful? Or did he think Natasha would withhold her protection? He knew Natasha said Loki cared for her, but Clint didn't want to believe that. There was an ulterior motive. There had to be.
Because if there wasn't, then Clint would have to consider Loki a permanent fixture, and he wasn't ready to think about that. Right now, he could tell himself it was a job, just like Natasha had told him. He could tell himself it didn't matter what Loki felt, he was just playing SHIELD to be free of Asgard. He could tell himself that Loki was biding his time until he could raze his enemies to the ground. But if he had genuine feeling involved, if he was truly involved and motivated by that connection, it would make him all too human for comfort.
For all of their caution, the team was flushed out when they reached the perimeter of the complex they were approaching. The first clue was a bolt of fire that simply appeared out of nowhere, right on top of the agent in front of Tony. Loki whipped around from his lead position and sang out a spell that snatched the unfortunate agent from the fire, leaving her hair and clothing singed but thankfully nothing else. She stammered her thanks with wide eyes, and everyone else took out their guns. "On alert," Natasha said, voice sharp. Clint knew she hated group missions like this, and preferred working solo or in groups no larger than three. Infiltration was much harder with a larger group.
There was nothing to aim at, but fire burst intermittently out of the ground. Loki had his hands full yanking the agents out of the fires, hands raised and a soft glow beneath his skin. It wasn't the geas activating, so Clint could only assume it was the sheer force of magic trying to exit his body to save them. It was an uncomfortable thought, so he kept an arrow nocked and his eyes scouring the surrounding area to find a target. "I'm going to need to get up high," he called out to the others. "I can't see anything down here."
"Point where you wanna go, and I'll take you there. Stay safe, Legolas," Tony called out, flying over to pick him up.
It wasn't Clint's preferred way to travel, but it got the job done. He managed to shoot down two snipers and had Tony leave him in the second sniper's nest. As high up as it was, he couldn't see anything that might indicate a spell caster. He shot at whatever snipers he could find, but finally he growled into the comms "I can't see a fucking thing, even from up here. No one's casting a damn thing."
"I assure you," Loki replied, voice tight with strain, "someone is indeed on the field. Mortal magic depends largely on line of sight." An explosion went off, a blast of fire and debris that barely missed Tony. Loki cursed in what must have been colorful Asgardian, and Clint could see him whip around to try to take in the field surrounding the compound. "Look for a shimmer. These fools can't cast true invisibility."
It was hard to see, but he thought he could see a wavering edge to the air at the edge of the courtyard, right under an archway leading into the rest of the compound. Clint shot an explosive arrow there, and he saw some of the stone chips from the archway bounce off of nothing.
"Gotcha, you bastard," he muttered, letting loose another arrow.
A wall of flame flew up, intending to interfere and burn the arrow midflight. Loki roared in that same language he had been chanting in, and ice formed right over the wall. Steam hissed up, but Clint's arrow sliced cleanly through the steam without difficulty. The caster screamed when the arrow hit him.
And then Natasha was screaming in the courtyard, fire erupting everywhere at once. Loki bodily threw himself over her, shouting, one arm flung up over them as he tried to ward off the incoming flames. One of the other SHIELD agents began screaming as his clothes caught fire, but this fire couldn't be put out by rolling on the ground. Clint started to swing himself over the edge of his perch, the distance to the ground be damned, but saw Natasha darting away from the inferno. She was intact, thankfully, only part of her hair singed.
Loki, however, was on fire.
He was glowing from the inside, an unearthly blue glow suffusing his skin. He stalked forward as if the fire wasn't harming him, as if his clothes weren't turning to ash. A flick of his wrist sent ice hurtling toward the burning agent, and for a moment Clint wondered if this was where he turned and killed them all.
The agent quieted down to whimpers, ice suffocating the flames and putting them out. Clint could see Natasha darting back into the fray holding a submachine gun she must have liberated from a Ten Rings guard. She took point over the fallen man's body, crouched low to keep herself a smaller target. Clint frantically searched the rest of the courtyard, and he could see Tony blasting at least four Ten Rings guards, and the other two SHIELD agents in combat.
Loki held the spell caster up by the throat, Clint's arrow embedded in his side. He was wearing a gaudy amulet that looked exactly like the one that Clint had destroyed in Mongolia, ten rings of varying colors on all ten fingers of his hands. The geas was activated, and Loki was visibly fighting it to hold the caster in place with one hand and attempt to rip the amulet from his neck with the other. His limbs jerked and his head bobbed; Clint could imagine his greet teeth and manic gaze. That expression still haunted his dreams.
But when Loki turned in a spasm, there was only agony and distress on his face. He sought out Natasha as his hand closed around the amulet, as if she was the only thing that allowed him to stay upright. The spell lines and scars on his pale skin were livid, as if they were burning him from the inside out the way the blue glow had done.
Clint didn't question why seeing this made his gut churn and his chest ache. He let loose an arrow that hit the caster dead center in the forehead just as Loki tore the amulet off of his chest.
There was an explosion, but it was nowhere near the catastrophic damage that Clint barely survived in Mongolia. It was fire and bright light, magnified a thousand fold off of the glittering shards of ice that Loki had left all over the courtyard to put out the fires. The god in question lay on the ground, twitching and spasming as if in the middle of a seizure, the amulet clutched in his hand. It looked like a death grip, and the sight humbled Clint.
He descended carefully from his perch, shooting whoever he had to in order to approach the mayhem safely. By the time he reached Natasha and Loki, his quiver was empty and his pulse raced erratically. He wanted to say that Loki sacrificed himself to save Natasha, but that wasn't so. Loki had acted to save the other agents, and had charged ahead to stop the spell caster. If he had only cared for Natasha, he would have remained lying on top of her. Instead, he was having a grand mal seizure and at least half of his body was burnt to a crisp.
Natasha knelt at his side, a hand on his forehead as if she could stop him from seizing with only her touch. When she looked up at Clint, her eyes shone suspiciously. "It won't stop."
All that she didn't say was still conveyed in her tone. She worried about Loki, she worried about Clint, she still felt obligated to take out the remaining Ten Rings fighters in the courtyard and keep their fellow agents alive. "Go," Clint heard himself say. "Take the rings and the amulet, wrap them up or something. They'll need to be studied in a safe place. I'll stay with him."
She nodded and got up to take the objects and finish the mission. Clint knelt down by Loki's side. The intensity of the seizures hadn't lessened in the time it took to get to him, which had to be what worried Natasha. They did seem to be less intense after she took away the amulet and moved to get the rings. Reaching down, Clint forced Loki's jaws open to be sure he didn't bite off his tongue or choke on it, and he turned him sideways. "Don't die," Clint growled into his ear, holding Loki so he stopped thrashing and beating his head on the stone floor. "She'll never forgive you if you do."
There was nothing to give him for the seizures, so the most Clint could do was hang on until they finally stopped. Tony, Natasha and the two relatively unharmed agents rounded up or killed the Ten Rings fighters that simply refused to stop. The burned agent lay quietly, but his chest still moved. Loki had saved his life with the ice.
It was eerie to be holding onto a sickly looking Loki, his body limp from exertion and the seizure. The blinding geas light was gone, leaving angry red scar lines around his mouth. He looked weak and vulnerable, as broken as when he first arrived in SHIELD's custody. They took their spells and burned them into my skin, Loki had said to him on the rooftop weeks before. Clint hadn't wanted to listen then, had wanted to believe the worst still remained inside him. They threaded their needles and drew it through resisting flesh.
"I think we're done here," Natasha said finally, coming to his side. She laid a hand on Clint's shoulder, fingertips brushing against the side of his neck. Her eyes were on his face, and she only looked down at Loki when he nodded at her. "Let's go home."
***
Natasha had stayed in Clint's bed after their return from the Ukraine. The fallout was thankfully short but still painful. The molfar they had been looking for had been killed; the spell caster they had fought was not the molfar but one of the Ten Rings' inner circle. The molfar's energies had been funneled into the amulet along with the deaths of the prior agents sent to get him. It had been the catalyst to get the Ten Rings' caster up to a detectable power level for Tony's scanner, but also let him cast fire spells with impunity. The amulet and rings were considered dangerous and would need to be destroyed with Loki's guidance once he gained consciousness.
If he gained consciousness.
In the two weeks of debriefings, he lay silent and still in Medical. Natasha lay in Clint's arms as if he could keep her from sinking under a wave of regrets; he was sure that she considered Loki one of the red names in her ledger now. She had played him and gotten tangled in return, but he had only taken on the caster because of her. Clint tried to tell her in words and with his body that she wasn't at fault; he had to know what he was doing, had to know the risk involved in attacking the caster directly. Clint would have done the same thing to keep Natasha safe, just as she would do the same for him.
She burrowed into his side at night, clutching him close. He told her the truth, always the truth, and she knew he would do that for her. Still, she carried her ledger at all times.
He went with her on her visits to Loki's bedside, as uncomfortable as it made him. He was there for her, just as she was always there for him. His discomfort at this time wasn't necessarily that it was Loki. If he was completely honest with himself - which he would rather not be, thank you very much - it had been due to fear that Loki would be more important to her than he was. He had some kind of place in her affections, and no matter how often Natasha told him that their relationship wouldn't change, Clint was always afraid it would. Who was he in the grand scheme of things, after all? He was a human archer, an ex-carnie that fell into the military and SHIELD protocols. He brought her in instead of killing her. He valued her opinion far more than was probably healthy for either of them. Loki carried magic woven into his very being, and had more power than any mortal practitioner could ever dream of having. While he was clearly troubled, he was a meatier puzzle for Natasha to sink into, more of a challenge for her. What kind of hold could he possibly have over her?
But she held onto his arm tightly as they sat side by side in their vigil. Natasha never acted as if he wasn't important. She always looked him right in the eye when she said she trusted him, when she wanted his input. "You matter," she'd always said. They never lied to each other, not about that, and he had to trust her more than his own tortured gut.
When Loki finally opened his eyes and took in a pained breath, Natasha smiled. It wasn't the same kind of smile she had for him after his cognitive recalibration. It wasn't the same kind of secret smile the two of them shared. There was relief, and yes, affection. The intensity was different. And when Natasha looked at him, the smile softened further still. She looked at him the same as she always did, and some of the jealousy seemed to loosen its hold on Clint. "Look who's come back to us," Natasha said, lips quirking slightly.
Us. Because really, the two of them were a pair. Dealing with one inevitably meant dealing with the other.
"Yeah," Clint said, looking over at Loki's wan expression. He could afford to grin amiably at the trickster. He had risked his life for Natasha's, after all. Loki hadn't reneged on his deal with SHIELD. Clint could probably learn to live with him. Probably. "Welcome back to the land of the living, Loki. Good to have to you back."
Loki blinked, perhaps in surprise. "Good to be back, then," he said slowly, his voice a slow rasp.
Clint was sure it would be awkward for a while. But perhaps they could figure out this balancing act between the three of them after all.
The End.