End of Days, 2/3. NC-17.
Title: End of Days
Series: #11 in Walking Yggdrasil
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17
Author's Notes: Not mine! Characters you recognize belong to Marvel, and I've incoporated some comic back story and mythology into the movieverse.
Summary: It's the end of the world as they know it, and Loki feels terrible.
chapter 1 on LJ | chapter 1 on DW | On AO3
Two - Unspeakable Magic
Days of tearing through scrolls and texts and devouring Wanda's notes brought Loki no closer to a solution. He didn't know how to find an entry to the dimension where Those Who Sit Above In Shadows lived, let alone how to defeat him. There were the rune scars, but how to trigger them volitionally still escaped him.
There were some references to unspeakable magicks, which were frustrating in the extreme. By their very nature, they weren't referenced, described or alluded to in further detail. He had done blood magic before, so that couldn't be it. Of course, the spells he had cast with blood were small and rather crude compared to dimension ripping, but it wasn't so taboo and able to be discussed in texts.
Natasha directed him to her sitting room handed him a mug of green tea. The warmth of the tea was a bit calming, but didn't otherwise help him think. She sat down next to him with a mug of her own, sipping at it delicately. Loki watched the way her lips moved as she blew off the steam and sipped, the way her throat moved. A spike of want moved through him, and he thought perhaps he understood what the unspeakable magic might be.
"Would you..." He licked his lips almost nervously. "Even amongst the practitioners on Asgard, there are some magicks not well accepted."
"Blood magic?" She grinned at his start of surprise. "For a culture so steeped in war and battle, they're amazingly squeamish about magic and blood and touch."
"Sex magic," Loki said quietly. "I wish to try a casting I have not done before. I don't know if any Asgardians have ever attempted such a thing, either."
"Does it matter that I don't have magic?"
Loki supposed he shouldn't have been surprised that she would approach this with a blasé attitude, but he was anyway. And maybe a little irritated, truth be told. If the woman had to have magic as well, did that mean she would cheerfully push him at Wanda?
Natasha didn't seem to notice that he was put off by the question, and simply looked at him expectantly, waiting for answer. "Would I ruin your spell?" she asked.
"I've never done that kind of magic before."
She looked at him in surprise. "Never?"
"It was not a topic for polite conversation."
"But somehow blood, murder and genocide are?"
"You've never been to Asgard," Loki replied blandly.
"Point," Natasha allowed with a nod. "So you don't know if my assistance would help or not."
Though he pained him to admit it, he nodded slowly. "It is not exactly a common practice."
Her faint smile was amused as she took his hand in hers. "I suppose we'll find out, then."
"You don't mind?"
Natasha snorted. "Loki, we've had sex before for all sorts of reasons. We're going to have sex again. So why not to try magic?"
The answer bothered him, and he frowned at her as he pulled his hand away. "I see."
She gave him a long look, lips pressed together. "You wanted me to be shocked, didn't you? Or fall all over myself with a declaration of love?"
"It might help," he said, standing and trying not to sulk. "This is a difficult request."
Holding herself very still, Natasha simply stared at him. "Do you want me to act terrified of you? Of what magic can do? Do you want me to say that I'm scared out of my mind?"
"I want something!" he hissed, surprising himself with how much emotion bled through. "I know what I feel is more than you do, but it doesn't make it any easier to keep seeing it thrown in my face."
Closing her eyes, she let out a slow breath. "I don't know magic. I don't know what you did to me when you sent me back. I don't know how to help you with this." She opened her eyes and looked at him evenly, no trace of fear in her eyes. "I don't know what else you want from me. I never made promises I couldn't keep, Loki. I never lied to you. I trust you."
He wanted her to love him. He wanted her to need him. He wanted to be the center of her universe as she had become the center of his.
It was inherently selfish and awful, but no less true.
"I will help you however I can," Natasha continued. "But I don't know how I can. You expect me to know the same things you do, but I don't."
"Do you value what we have so little? Or do I value it too much?"
"Or maybe, I just have a different view of sex than you do. For a long time," she said slowly, holding his gaze, "my body was nothing more than a tool. For the most part, it still is. Sex is a function. It doesn't have to have meaning. It can, and it does when I choose to do it for my own reasons, and not for a job."
Loki frowned at her, not quite comprehending what she was saying. "It is a sacred act of union on Asgard, not some petty trinket to throw away."
"So that's what this is about," Natasha murmured. "I accept that you need the energy for a spell, and it bothers you that I do. I should be protesting that what we have is special, that we can't use sex that way."
He pressed his lips together unhappily, but jerked his chin in an awkward nod. "This is so."
"I'm different than that, Loki," Natasha said quietly. "I never had that luxury growing up. I had nothing special like that." She tapped her temple. "Not even my memories."
That bothered him more than he wanted to admit. Oh, he had considered her little more than a tool when he had first met her, when he had first yanked her to walk Yggdrasil with him. But to hear her consider herself that way? To hear that she had no concept of herself as truly sacred? She had her sense of worth in a way that he never did, but this was... horrible, in a way. She knew her value as a measure of skill and usefulness, as accounting and ledgers that had to be balanced. It made sense now why she would offer herself to him, why she understood the emptiness inside of him.
She had one of her own, but wasn't bothered by it.
Natasha tugged him closer to her. "We're just different, Loki. I can be what you need, but not magical," she said quietly. It must have hurt to admit this limitation, but he felt no triumph at hearing the plainspoken words. "If I can help you with this, I will."
He caught her head and turned her face to his, so that only an inch of space was between them. It would be easy to lean in and kiss her, but he felt something akin to pity. She would never accept it, just as he would never accept hers. The realization of how alike and dissimilar they were was humbling. She might never be able to say words of abject devotion to him, but she was giving him everything she was capable of, just as he gave her everything that he was capable of.
"Then we'll find out together if you can."
***
Natasha looked at Loki with an amused smile as he set out a number of blankets on the floor of his bedroom. The corners were to be weighted down with elaborately carved silver goblets, which he had further inscribed with various runes around the rim. Each were filled with spiced mead, and he was intending to create a rough circle inside the square with the herbs he spiced the mead with. "You know," she began, eyes dancing, "I didn't think you wanted me in a more submissive role."
He glanced at her, jaw set. "That was an entirely different situation. I didn't enjoy the fact that you were on display for others to see. Or that I had to hand you over to a cruel madman."
She grinned openly at that statement, sitting crosslegged on the floor while completely naked. "I see. So madmen are okay as long as they're not cruel."
"Why do you test me so?" he snapped.
"Because if we're going to do sex magic, I'm pretty sure you shouldn't be tense or angry."
Loki blew out a breath and then sat back on his haunches. At her raised eyebrow, he took another deep breath, then let it out. "There is no protocol for this."
"I gathered."
"What I am doing makes sense, yet..."
"I trust you, Loki," she said quietly. "You know spellcraft. You can create a spell that will give you the energy you need."
"If I had the same confidence you did," Loki muttered, then bit his lip. His gaze flicked up to hers. "If I err, even the slightest, and you are harmed-"
"Stop," she commanded. Her tone brooked no argument. "Set up the circle, do the spell, then do me."
He blinked, then shook his head ruefully. "Not exactly a romantic proposal."
"Describes most of our relationship, doesn't it?" Natasha teased.
In spite of himself, Loki laughed. "I suppose it does."
Natasha stretched out in the center of the circle once Loki set it up. He brushed the ashes of yew branches and ash leaves onto her skin and into her hair, and then cleared out a circle in the center of her torso, right beneath her breasts. In that circle, he placed a large oval chrysoberyl that had what looked like a starburst of silver caught in its center. It was a bright canary yellow around the silver starburst, turning almost greenish-yellow at the edges. He carefully stepped outside of the circle, then removed his clothing, one piece at a time, folding them precisely. She didn't tease him for the fastidiousness, somehow knowing it was his way of alleviating his nervousness. Or perhaps it was all part of the spell.
Back inside the circle, Loki opened his hands, palms up to the ceiling. Green fire leapt up from his palms, and the mead in turn caught fire. He closed his fingers into his palm, murmuring something in that sing-song meter that he had been teaching Wanda, his eyes locked on the chrysoberyl at the center of Natasha's chest.
With an eerie grace, Loki knelt beside Natasha and brought his hand between her legs. He looked at her then, his expression one of longing and desperate fear. She couldn't move during this ritual, not without risking shifting the ashes on her skin and hair, so all she could do was smile encouragingly and slightly shift her thighs a little wider apart. He nodded, the corner of his mouth ticking up, and then slid his fingers right up against her exposed flesh. She remained very still as he traced the folds and rubbed her clit, gradually drawing her desire. Smirking a bit, he brought his other hand to her breasts, and rubbed her nipple gently. He was sure not to disturb the ash layer, and the gentle motion still made her breath catch.
Every touch was reverent and careful, accompanied by the galdr. Natasha could feel the chrysoberyl on her chest grow warm as her pulse picked up. Loki's fingers kept a steady rhythm, and she gradually widened her legs so he could have better access. His mouth quirked as he chanted, not missing a single syllable. Natasha gasped as he slid two fingers into her, thumb hitting her clit with ever deep stroke inside of her. She kept still, breath shallow and body tense, and he was soon outright grinning at her.
The chrysoberyl started to glow when she came without a twitch or shiver. She could see the pride in his eyes, both at making her come and for the fact that she remembered the importance in keeping still for this part of his ritual. The ash didn't fall off her body, at least, and the warmth on her chest seemed almost comfortable, rather like a warm bath. Natasha closed her eyes, letting the sensation flow through her, feeling as though her bones were melting.
Just when the chrysoberyl's heat turned uncomfortable, Loki withdrew his fingers. Natasha's eyes shot open, and she frowned at him in confusion. She wasn't so uncomfortable that she would risk ruining the spell, but she was fairly sure that Loki wasn't done with her yet. He was rather pompous about the fact that he could coax multiple orgasms from her, and she chose not to tell him that she could also fake it rather convincingly. That would be a devastating blow to his ego, even if she had never had to fake an orgasm with him.
He repositioned himself and lifted her legs up. The ash was caked onto her skin now, not flaky and dry but almost like a white plaster. His gaze was dark and needy, desire and worry warring with each other. That didn't stop him from fucking into her, hard and deep, the galdr slipping into outright guttural moans. Natasha bit her lip to keep from uttering any sounds, even a delighted moan, and kept her gaze locked on him. She tightened her inner muscles, liking the feel of his cock slick and sliding inside her.
Loki howled, and the scar on his palm and forearm suddenly burst into brilliant white light, blindingly bright. The chrysoberyl on her chest in that same instant flared to life, now bright and brilliant green, the silver star now golden yellow. Its heat was too much to bear, and Natasha was close to screaming in pain.
She opened her mouth, and Loki's expression was one of terror.
I have to scream, she thought, the fire burning through her sternum. I have to-
***
Natasha looked around her, aware that she was dressed in something like a Victorian nightgown. She couldn't feel anything underneath the thick silk of the gown, and she wasn't even wearing socks or boots. Under her feet was the rough texture of bark, and all around her was a vast black nothingness; not even distant stars peppered the sky. Beside her was Loki, naked and blue, red eyes looking at her in fear and misery.
Taking hold of his hand, she quirked a smile. "So. I get clothes and you don't? Interesting."
Loki scowled at her and curled his fingers. The seidr didn't work quite right, and fizzled even as he tried to craft a piece of clothing. His scowl deepened at her laughter, but he allowed her to drag him forward. At least, in the direction they were facing; with no visible walkway, no directions or indication of others there, it was impossible to tell which way was correct. Natasha didn't know why she felt that it was the right path, but she didn't feel lost walking it.
"Why are we going this way?" he asked after a moment, sounding put out and irritated.
"Feels like the right way to go," she replied with a shrug. "Can't you tell?"
"No," he replied shortly.
Natasha stopped and turned to look at Loki. "What? What is it?"
"If I'm the one to save Yggdrasil," he said in clipped tones, "why are you the one in questor's robes?" His eyes narrowed. "You don't have magic, and you didn't guide us here. Why do you have the means to find the path?"
She let out a slow breath. "I didn't think of this as questor's robes. Looked like a nightgown to me. The high neck, long length, long sleeves, poof and frills..." Her voice trailed off. "That's not what you see."
"That is what I see," Loki said, turning away from her uneasily. "But those who wear such things are at the beginning of learning magic. They have a sacred trust, and will be tested."
"I don't have magic."
"I know."
The slight slump of his shoulders, the heavy tone of voice... It spoke of grief.
Reaching for him, Natasha rested her hand on his arm. "I'm a sacrifice, aren't I?"
"I already sacrificed you," Loki said, not turning around. "I sent you home. I didn't change your fate. I left you as you were, untouched by my hands." She could hear his swallow, could feel the tension in the muscle beneath her fingertips.
"And you can't do it again."
"But you would," Loki said, turning to face her, red eyes blazing. "With no thought of yourself, because it would be the right thing to do."
"The math-"
"There is no math!" Loki shouted, grasping her arms. "There is no accounting! One life, a hundred, a thousand, a million, it doesn't matter! Your life means more to me than all the realms of Yggdrasil! Without you here there is no point!"
"And this is why you both had to be here," came a voice behind them. It drifted through the blank and empty Void around them, a resonant trio of voices overlaid into a single one. "Loki, who holds magic and the sheer perverse will to change the shape of fate and time. And Natasha, the mortal woman who somehow took hold of his heart and serves as his moral yardstick." The voice sounded fond and affectionate, and Natasha thought she could feel fingers combing through her hair, the way a mother might unsnarl a tangle.
"There would be a battle at the end of life and time-" Loki began, eyes and teeth flashing.
"No," the voice said simply.
As if merely stepping out of shadows, a woman came forward. Her features were blurred, shifting in and out, hair looking white or white-blonde or even golden as it danced around her head, drifting on a breeze that didn't exist. Her skin was bone white, nearly translucent, eyes more like gaping black holes. There was no tracery of veins, and her body was swathed in a dress-robe-nightgown like Natasha's. It was the same pure white of her skin, the folds casting no shadows, and there was no indication of feet. Her hands had impossibly long fingers to seem human, and the fingertips of both hands were touching, clasped in front of her stomach.
Natasha tilted her head as she contemplated the woman in front of her. "The Norns?" she guessed, thinking back to what Wanda and Loki had said in the past.
She smiled, lips stretching sideways. It gave her face a hinged look, as if the top could be tipped backward and Natasha could then look inside.
"Come closer, Natasha."
She was drawn forward against her will, even as Loki shouted in despair and reached to hold her still. She was floating, her entire body held rigid. In spite of this, she held no fear.
The woman smiled even wider, and the hinged mouth seemed to be full of small, needle-like teeth. Natasha could almost make out the shimmer of stars in the backs of her eyes. She didn't say anything, not sure if there was anything to say. This didn't seem to be like the Norns that Wanda and Loki had described, and she certainly didn't respond to the question. Her attitude was far more malevolent, though Natasha felt stuck, unable to move from the track that the woman's magic had set her on. As Natasha got within arm's length, the woman's elongated fingers reached up, unerringly touching the place where the chrysoberyl had been on her chest during the ritual sex.
"Thank you for the gift," the woman said. Her voice was the rasp of a file over metal, grating and soft, threatening to set her teeth on edge.
Though Natasha was unable to turn her head, she heard Loki's choking sound. He must have been livid with rage as he watched helplessly. The woman drew the chrysoberyl out of Natasha's sternum, and it glowed with a bright gold-green color.
"You're welcome," Natasha said, managing to spit the syllables out.
The woman's fingers closed around the gem, and she blinked owlishly at her. "You are speaking." The smile drew inward, lips pulling in from the sides of her face to about the size of a dime. She didn't seem pleased at all. "You are to be the heart and the morality, not the will. You are not what had been planned."
Natasha couldn't help but laugh, which seemed to irritate the woman and make Loki mewl in despair. "I get that a lot."
"You don't fear me."
"Are you death?"
"One iteration of it."
"Ah. Well, in that case, no, I don't fear you," Natasha said. She found that she could shrug, which made the woman in front of her frown more deeply.
"Most fear me. Loki does."
"He doesn't understand you, does he?"
The woman backed up a step, and her voice lost its trio of cadences. Now she had a single voice as she told Natasha "No, he doesn't."
"That stone," Natasha began in a gentle tone. "What does it do?"
The brilliant light of the gem was caught in the woman's hands, and she delicately opened her spindly fingers. "It can do many things, depending on the wishes of the owners. You can use it as a beacon, to draw others to you. Or as a replacement soul."
"A replacement soul," Natasha echoed, feeling a chill run through her spine.
Now the woman smiled at her, faintly. "I am related to the Norns. Their forgotten sister. For someone must lead the souls to Helheim, or give shape to the weavings that they create. The shadow between the threads."
"Not one of Those Who Sit Above, or whatever their names are?"
Blinking, the woman's head tilted to the side. "Those Who Sit Above In Shadows. Not of my ilk, not my crafting. Outside of these realms, outside the reach of Yggdrasil. My power lies within these nine realms alone." She brought the stone up to her lips and let her tongue slip out and taste it. The move reminded Natasha of a cat lapping at a saucer of milk.
"What does that taste like?" she asked curiously.
"A replacement soul, you mean?" At Natasha's nod, she pondered that. "It nourishes. There is no taste. There is only being."
"It's magic, then."
"Different magicks. From different worlds. Unfamiliar, too. It is most peculiar." She turned and looked at Loki, and let one hand rise up to draw Loki forward against his will. "You. Frost Giant and Asgardian, on Midgard. You've traveled beyond Yggdrasil and through it, and this stone carries the essence of all of it and none."
Loki glared at her, teeth grit inside of his mouth, jaw set so tight that Natasha could see the muscles jumping in his neck.
"Give me Those Who Sit Above In Shadows," the woman demanded, the stars in the black pools of her eyes flaring as bright as his scars did. Her voice seemed to split into the trio again. "They long escaped our grasp, and are such that we cannot attack directly."
"You are the dark of the Norns," Loki said finally. "The reverse image of their power. Tales don't often speak of you."
"Bright boy," the woman said, lips stretching sideways into that eerie smile again. "As you are the inverse of your brother, I am the inverse of the Norns. I carry no name, only function. I have no whispers, no prayers, no song."
"Keep the stone," Natasha found herself saying. It was an impulse she didn't understand, but seemed to make sense. "It was made out of magic, power, song and love."
Loki turned to gape at Natasha, but she was staring at the strange woman.
The woman began to laugh, and then shoved the stone back into Natasha's chest. "I will accept your gift when you are done with it."
"But-"
"No," the woman said, voice gentle yet demanding at the same time. Natasha couldn't help but gasp as the stone burned and burrowed its way into her sternum. "You have need of this right now. I appreciate the gesture, Natalia Alianovna Romanova. You truly are his heart. You understand more than you think you do."
She leaned forward and kissed Natasha's forehead, then turned to kiss Loki's. "Care for her, little giant. If you don't, you will be truly lost."
And then they both woke inside the herb circle, the fires burned out of the chalices.
Natasha gasped, feeling a sharp pain in her chest, right where the stone had been lying. It was missing, but there was a mark on her skin not unlike the star shape that had been in the center of the stone. Unlike Loki's scar, it wasn't raised like a welt, but simply a discoloration. Touching it gently with her fingertip, she could feel warmth pulse beneath it.
She started a little when Loki's hand came to cover hers; his skin was still blue and his eyes were red. The raised swirls in his skin seemed to be almost like runes themselves. "Is this how we face Those Who Sit Above In Shadow? Is this how we stop Ragnarok?"
In a mournful tone of voice, Loki whispered "You have magic now. You'll come to their notice."
Wrapping her arms around him, Natasha let out a breath. "Then you and Wanda better teach me how to use this before it's too late."
***
If Wanda was startled by Loki in his frost giant form, she kept her thoughts to herself. He was unable to return to the Asgardian appearance, and that set him on edge. "What if you gave it up in your spell?" Natasha pointed out. "Your magic was a greenish gold. Wanda's is red." She lifted her fingers and a golden light seemed to curl around her fingers. "But now you have pure green magic, and mine is gold."
The rest of the Avengers may have gaped, but they said nothing at first. Thor openly gaped, but didn't say a word. After one too many challenging glares Loki sent them, Sam finally threw up his hands. "Man, you want to pick a fight about this? C'mon, you're an alien. So what? You're blue. Want me to call you a giant Smurf or something?"
Clint and his children sputtered with laughter, nearly making Loki apoplectic with rage. Laura simply shook her head. "Of course not, Sam," she said. It was the same tone she often took with Cooper. "Smurfs are little and go berry picking."
Lila had no fear at all, even with Loki's glower, and came over to touch the raised skin patterns on Loki's face and arms. "They're like vines," she said, grinning at him. "You know, that climb up a trellis. Is that where you keep your magic?"
Loki blinked and seemed to unwind a bit. "It doesn't trouble you?"
"Well, I'm not used to you being blue. But there's mutants in New York City, and some of 'em have blue skin, too. But Dad and Sam said you're an alien. So it makes sense you'd look different," she said with the same patient tone Laura had. "Now you're comfy with us here and you don't have to put on a human face, right?"
"Uh. It wasn't quite like that..."
"But is that where you keep your magic?"
"I don't believe anyone studied Jotnar to see where their magic rested. Most believed it to be evil." His voice was tight, and the adults were a bit wary of his response.
"Oh. It's like all the fairy tales, then?" At his blank look, she shrugged. "Well, they say there's good magic and bad magic in fairy tales, but it's really how it gets used, if you think about it. I mean, yes, Sleeping Beauty had to sleep for a hundred years, but she didn't die and she met her true love. So it's not all bad."
Cooper made gagging noises and Nathaniel poked him with his foot. "Finish reading the story!" the boy hissed, pointing at the large book in Cooper's lap. It was a book of fairy tales, which was likely why it had come to Lila's mind so quickly.
"I think it might be similar to that," Natasha agreed with Lila. "Magic is just magic. It's what you choose to do with it that matters."
Lila had the same smile on her face and went back to where her brothers were sitting in the common room. She snatched up the book from Cooper and stuck her tongue out at him. "I'll read to you, Nate," she told her younger brother. "He's being a doofus."
"Hey!" Cooper cried, reaching for the book. Lila leaned away from him, crowding into Nathaniel, who started shoving back.
With a practiced sigh, Laura got up and took the book from Lila. "My turn to read," she said simply. Nathaniel happily got out from under Lila and went to his mother's side. "You two," she said sternly to her older children, "do your reading in the den. Separate desks."
Clint only chuckled at Loki's bewildered expression. "Man, you never had a normal experience if you think that's weird." He only laughed harder when Natasha and Laura both reached over to smack his shoulder.
"So if there's three of you able to do magic," Steve said, firmly steering them back to topic. "Maybe more if you can find any other practitioners that can work these spells. Will we be able to stop Ragnarok?"
Loki had almost expected them to ask how he had gotten Natasha the ability to cast spells, but apparently it didn't matter to them. That was a surprise he wasn't entirely sure how to deal with. How did it not matter to these mortals how a being acquired magic? Didn't they care about what arcane thing he had to do? Didn't they guess it would have to be unspeakable, and some kind of depraved act?
But he would never put Natasha at risk, even for the sake of all nine realms, and they all knew that. Perhaps that was why it didn't matter about the how. They all knew the why, and accepted without question that he would help them without eventually turning on them.
He was trusted. He was worthy.
The fear and indecision eased a little, and he actually smiled at Steve. "Wanda will tear apart the fabric of time and space. The rest of us will do battle."
Thor lifted Mjolnir with an eager grin. "Finally!"
***
***
Series: #11 in Walking Yggdrasil
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17
Author's Notes: Not mine! Characters you recognize belong to Marvel, and I've incoporated some comic back story and mythology into the movieverse.
Summary: It's the end of the world as they know it, and Loki feels terrible.
chapter 1 on LJ | chapter 1 on DW | On AO3
Two - Unspeakable Magic
Days of tearing through scrolls and texts and devouring Wanda's notes brought Loki no closer to a solution. He didn't know how to find an entry to the dimension where Those Who Sit Above In Shadows lived, let alone how to defeat him. There were the rune scars, but how to trigger them volitionally still escaped him.
There were some references to unspeakable magicks, which were frustrating in the extreme. By their very nature, they weren't referenced, described or alluded to in further detail. He had done blood magic before, so that couldn't be it. Of course, the spells he had cast with blood were small and rather crude compared to dimension ripping, but it wasn't so taboo and able to be discussed in texts.
Natasha directed him to her sitting room handed him a mug of green tea. The warmth of the tea was a bit calming, but didn't otherwise help him think. She sat down next to him with a mug of her own, sipping at it delicately. Loki watched the way her lips moved as she blew off the steam and sipped, the way her throat moved. A spike of want moved through him, and he thought perhaps he understood what the unspeakable magic might be.
"Would you..." He licked his lips almost nervously. "Even amongst the practitioners on Asgard, there are some magicks not well accepted."
"Blood magic?" She grinned at his start of surprise. "For a culture so steeped in war and battle, they're amazingly squeamish about magic and blood and touch."
"Sex magic," Loki said quietly. "I wish to try a casting I have not done before. I don't know if any Asgardians have ever attempted such a thing, either."
"Does it matter that I don't have magic?"
Loki supposed he shouldn't have been surprised that she would approach this with a blasé attitude, but he was anyway. And maybe a little irritated, truth be told. If the woman had to have magic as well, did that mean she would cheerfully push him at Wanda?
Natasha didn't seem to notice that he was put off by the question, and simply looked at him expectantly, waiting for answer. "Would I ruin your spell?" she asked.
"I've never done that kind of magic before."
She looked at him in surprise. "Never?"
"It was not a topic for polite conversation."
"But somehow blood, murder and genocide are?"
"You've never been to Asgard," Loki replied blandly.
"Point," Natasha allowed with a nod. "So you don't know if my assistance would help or not."
Though he pained him to admit it, he nodded slowly. "It is not exactly a common practice."
Her faint smile was amused as she took his hand in hers. "I suppose we'll find out, then."
"You don't mind?"
Natasha snorted. "Loki, we've had sex before for all sorts of reasons. We're going to have sex again. So why not to try magic?"
The answer bothered him, and he frowned at her as he pulled his hand away. "I see."
She gave him a long look, lips pressed together. "You wanted me to be shocked, didn't you? Or fall all over myself with a declaration of love?"
"It might help," he said, standing and trying not to sulk. "This is a difficult request."
Holding herself very still, Natasha simply stared at him. "Do you want me to act terrified of you? Of what magic can do? Do you want me to say that I'm scared out of my mind?"
"I want something!" he hissed, surprising himself with how much emotion bled through. "I know what I feel is more than you do, but it doesn't make it any easier to keep seeing it thrown in my face."
Closing her eyes, she let out a slow breath. "I don't know magic. I don't know what you did to me when you sent me back. I don't know how to help you with this." She opened her eyes and looked at him evenly, no trace of fear in her eyes. "I don't know what else you want from me. I never made promises I couldn't keep, Loki. I never lied to you. I trust you."
He wanted her to love him. He wanted her to need him. He wanted to be the center of her universe as she had become the center of his.
It was inherently selfish and awful, but no less true.
"I will help you however I can," Natasha continued. "But I don't know how I can. You expect me to know the same things you do, but I don't."
"Do you value what we have so little? Or do I value it too much?"
"Or maybe, I just have a different view of sex than you do. For a long time," she said slowly, holding his gaze, "my body was nothing more than a tool. For the most part, it still is. Sex is a function. It doesn't have to have meaning. It can, and it does when I choose to do it for my own reasons, and not for a job."
Loki frowned at her, not quite comprehending what she was saying. "It is a sacred act of union on Asgard, not some petty trinket to throw away."
"So that's what this is about," Natasha murmured. "I accept that you need the energy for a spell, and it bothers you that I do. I should be protesting that what we have is special, that we can't use sex that way."
He pressed his lips together unhappily, but jerked his chin in an awkward nod. "This is so."
"I'm different than that, Loki," Natasha said quietly. "I never had that luxury growing up. I had nothing special like that." She tapped her temple. "Not even my memories."
That bothered him more than he wanted to admit. Oh, he had considered her little more than a tool when he had first met her, when he had first yanked her to walk Yggdrasil with him. But to hear her consider herself that way? To hear that she had no concept of herself as truly sacred? She had her sense of worth in a way that he never did, but this was... horrible, in a way. She knew her value as a measure of skill and usefulness, as accounting and ledgers that had to be balanced. It made sense now why she would offer herself to him, why she understood the emptiness inside of him.
She had one of her own, but wasn't bothered by it.
Natasha tugged him closer to her. "We're just different, Loki. I can be what you need, but not magical," she said quietly. It must have hurt to admit this limitation, but he felt no triumph at hearing the plainspoken words. "If I can help you with this, I will."
He caught her head and turned her face to his, so that only an inch of space was between them. It would be easy to lean in and kiss her, but he felt something akin to pity. She would never accept it, just as he would never accept hers. The realization of how alike and dissimilar they were was humbling. She might never be able to say words of abject devotion to him, but she was giving him everything she was capable of, just as he gave her everything that he was capable of.
"Then we'll find out together if you can."
***
Natasha looked at Loki with an amused smile as he set out a number of blankets on the floor of his bedroom. The corners were to be weighted down with elaborately carved silver goblets, which he had further inscribed with various runes around the rim. Each were filled with spiced mead, and he was intending to create a rough circle inside the square with the herbs he spiced the mead with. "You know," she began, eyes dancing, "I didn't think you wanted me in a more submissive role."
He glanced at her, jaw set. "That was an entirely different situation. I didn't enjoy the fact that you were on display for others to see. Or that I had to hand you over to a cruel madman."
She grinned openly at that statement, sitting crosslegged on the floor while completely naked. "I see. So madmen are okay as long as they're not cruel."
"Why do you test me so?" he snapped.
"Because if we're going to do sex magic, I'm pretty sure you shouldn't be tense or angry."
Loki blew out a breath and then sat back on his haunches. At her raised eyebrow, he took another deep breath, then let it out. "There is no protocol for this."
"I gathered."
"What I am doing makes sense, yet..."
"I trust you, Loki," she said quietly. "You know spellcraft. You can create a spell that will give you the energy you need."
"If I had the same confidence you did," Loki muttered, then bit his lip. His gaze flicked up to hers. "If I err, even the slightest, and you are harmed-"
"Stop," she commanded. Her tone brooked no argument. "Set up the circle, do the spell, then do me."
He blinked, then shook his head ruefully. "Not exactly a romantic proposal."
"Describes most of our relationship, doesn't it?" Natasha teased.
In spite of himself, Loki laughed. "I suppose it does."
Natasha stretched out in the center of the circle once Loki set it up. He brushed the ashes of yew branches and ash leaves onto her skin and into her hair, and then cleared out a circle in the center of her torso, right beneath her breasts. In that circle, he placed a large oval chrysoberyl that had what looked like a starburst of silver caught in its center. It was a bright canary yellow around the silver starburst, turning almost greenish-yellow at the edges. He carefully stepped outside of the circle, then removed his clothing, one piece at a time, folding them precisely. She didn't tease him for the fastidiousness, somehow knowing it was his way of alleviating his nervousness. Or perhaps it was all part of the spell.
Back inside the circle, Loki opened his hands, palms up to the ceiling. Green fire leapt up from his palms, and the mead in turn caught fire. He closed his fingers into his palm, murmuring something in that sing-song meter that he had been teaching Wanda, his eyes locked on the chrysoberyl at the center of Natasha's chest.
With an eerie grace, Loki knelt beside Natasha and brought his hand between her legs. He looked at her then, his expression one of longing and desperate fear. She couldn't move during this ritual, not without risking shifting the ashes on her skin and hair, so all she could do was smile encouragingly and slightly shift her thighs a little wider apart. He nodded, the corner of his mouth ticking up, and then slid his fingers right up against her exposed flesh. She remained very still as he traced the folds and rubbed her clit, gradually drawing her desire. Smirking a bit, he brought his other hand to her breasts, and rubbed her nipple gently. He was sure not to disturb the ash layer, and the gentle motion still made her breath catch.
Every touch was reverent and careful, accompanied by the galdr. Natasha could feel the chrysoberyl on her chest grow warm as her pulse picked up. Loki's fingers kept a steady rhythm, and she gradually widened her legs so he could have better access. His mouth quirked as he chanted, not missing a single syllable. Natasha gasped as he slid two fingers into her, thumb hitting her clit with ever deep stroke inside of her. She kept still, breath shallow and body tense, and he was soon outright grinning at her.
The chrysoberyl started to glow when she came without a twitch or shiver. She could see the pride in his eyes, both at making her come and for the fact that she remembered the importance in keeping still for this part of his ritual. The ash didn't fall off her body, at least, and the warmth on her chest seemed almost comfortable, rather like a warm bath. Natasha closed her eyes, letting the sensation flow through her, feeling as though her bones were melting.
Just when the chrysoberyl's heat turned uncomfortable, Loki withdrew his fingers. Natasha's eyes shot open, and she frowned at him in confusion. She wasn't so uncomfortable that she would risk ruining the spell, but she was fairly sure that Loki wasn't done with her yet. He was rather pompous about the fact that he could coax multiple orgasms from her, and she chose not to tell him that she could also fake it rather convincingly. That would be a devastating blow to his ego, even if she had never had to fake an orgasm with him.
He repositioned himself and lifted her legs up. The ash was caked onto her skin now, not flaky and dry but almost like a white plaster. His gaze was dark and needy, desire and worry warring with each other. That didn't stop him from fucking into her, hard and deep, the galdr slipping into outright guttural moans. Natasha bit her lip to keep from uttering any sounds, even a delighted moan, and kept her gaze locked on him. She tightened her inner muscles, liking the feel of his cock slick and sliding inside her.
Loki howled, and the scar on his palm and forearm suddenly burst into brilliant white light, blindingly bright. The chrysoberyl on her chest in that same instant flared to life, now bright and brilliant green, the silver star now golden yellow. Its heat was too much to bear, and Natasha was close to screaming in pain.
She opened her mouth, and Loki's expression was one of terror.
I have to scream, she thought, the fire burning through her sternum. I have to-
***
Natasha looked around her, aware that she was dressed in something like a Victorian nightgown. She couldn't feel anything underneath the thick silk of the gown, and she wasn't even wearing socks or boots. Under her feet was the rough texture of bark, and all around her was a vast black nothingness; not even distant stars peppered the sky. Beside her was Loki, naked and blue, red eyes looking at her in fear and misery.
Taking hold of his hand, she quirked a smile. "So. I get clothes and you don't? Interesting."
Loki scowled at her and curled his fingers. The seidr didn't work quite right, and fizzled even as he tried to craft a piece of clothing. His scowl deepened at her laughter, but he allowed her to drag him forward. At least, in the direction they were facing; with no visible walkway, no directions or indication of others there, it was impossible to tell which way was correct. Natasha didn't know why she felt that it was the right path, but she didn't feel lost walking it.
"Why are we going this way?" he asked after a moment, sounding put out and irritated.
"Feels like the right way to go," she replied with a shrug. "Can't you tell?"
"No," he replied shortly.
Natasha stopped and turned to look at Loki. "What? What is it?"
"If I'm the one to save Yggdrasil," he said in clipped tones, "why are you the one in questor's robes?" His eyes narrowed. "You don't have magic, and you didn't guide us here. Why do you have the means to find the path?"
She let out a slow breath. "I didn't think of this as questor's robes. Looked like a nightgown to me. The high neck, long length, long sleeves, poof and frills..." Her voice trailed off. "That's not what you see."
"That is what I see," Loki said, turning away from her uneasily. "But those who wear such things are at the beginning of learning magic. They have a sacred trust, and will be tested."
"I don't have magic."
"I know."
The slight slump of his shoulders, the heavy tone of voice... It spoke of grief.
Reaching for him, Natasha rested her hand on his arm. "I'm a sacrifice, aren't I?"
"I already sacrificed you," Loki said, not turning around. "I sent you home. I didn't change your fate. I left you as you were, untouched by my hands." She could hear his swallow, could feel the tension in the muscle beneath her fingertips.
"And you can't do it again."
"But you would," Loki said, turning to face her, red eyes blazing. "With no thought of yourself, because it would be the right thing to do."
"The math-"
"There is no math!" Loki shouted, grasping her arms. "There is no accounting! One life, a hundred, a thousand, a million, it doesn't matter! Your life means more to me than all the realms of Yggdrasil! Without you here there is no point!"
"And this is why you both had to be here," came a voice behind them. It drifted through the blank and empty Void around them, a resonant trio of voices overlaid into a single one. "Loki, who holds magic and the sheer perverse will to change the shape of fate and time. And Natasha, the mortal woman who somehow took hold of his heart and serves as his moral yardstick." The voice sounded fond and affectionate, and Natasha thought she could feel fingers combing through her hair, the way a mother might unsnarl a tangle.
"There would be a battle at the end of life and time-" Loki began, eyes and teeth flashing.
"No," the voice said simply.
As if merely stepping out of shadows, a woman came forward. Her features were blurred, shifting in and out, hair looking white or white-blonde or even golden as it danced around her head, drifting on a breeze that didn't exist. Her skin was bone white, nearly translucent, eyes more like gaping black holes. There was no tracery of veins, and her body was swathed in a dress-robe-nightgown like Natasha's. It was the same pure white of her skin, the folds casting no shadows, and there was no indication of feet. Her hands had impossibly long fingers to seem human, and the fingertips of both hands were touching, clasped in front of her stomach.
Natasha tilted her head as she contemplated the woman in front of her. "The Norns?" she guessed, thinking back to what Wanda and Loki had said in the past.
She smiled, lips stretching sideways. It gave her face a hinged look, as if the top could be tipped backward and Natasha could then look inside.
"Come closer, Natasha."
She was drawn forward against her will, even as Loki shouted in despair and reached to hold her still. She was floating, her entire body held rigid. In spite of this, she held no fear.
The woman smiled even wider, and the hinged mouth seemed to be full of small, needle-like teeth. Natasha could almost make out the shimmer of stars in the backs of her eyes. She didn't say anything, not sure if there was anything to say. This didn't seem to be like the Norns that Wanda and Loki had described, and she certainly didn't respond to the question. Her attitude was far more malevolent, though Natasha felt stuck, unable to move from the track that the woman's magic had set her on. As Natasha got within arm's length, the woman's elongated fingers reached up, unerringly touching the place where the chrysoberyl had been on her chest during the ritual sex.
"Thank you for the gift," the woman said. Her voice was the rasp of a file over metal, grating and soft, threatening to set her teeth on edge.
Though Natasha was unable to turn her head, she heard Loki's choking sound. He must have been livid with rage as he watched helplessly. The woman drew the chrysoberyl out of Natasha's sternum, and it glowed with a bright gold-green color.
"You're welcome," Natasha said, managing to spit the syllables out.
The woman's fingers closed around the gem, and she blinked owlishly at her. "You are speaking." The smile drew inward, lips pulling in from the sides of her face to about the size of a dime. She didn't seem pleased at all. "You are to be the heart and the morality, not the will. You are not what had been planned."
Natasha couldn't help but laugh, which seemed to irritate the woman and make Loki mewl in despair. "I get that a lot."
"You don't fear me."
"Are you death?"
"One iteration of it."
"Ah. Well, in that case, no, I don't fear you," Natasha said. She found that she could shrug, which made the woman in front of her frown more deeply.
"Most fear me. Loki does."
"He doesn't understand you, does he?"
The woman backed up a step, and her voice lost its trio of cadences. Now she had a single voice as she told Natasha "No, he doesn't."
"That stone," Natasha began in a gentle tone. "What does it do?"
The brilliant light of the gem was caught in the woman's hands, and she delicately opened her spindly fingers. "It can do many things, depending on the wishes of the owners. You can use it as a beacon, to draw others to you. Or as a replacement soul."
"A replacement soul," Natasha echoed, feeling a chill run through her spine.
Now the woman smiled at her, faintly. "I am related to the Norns. Their forgotten sister. For someone must lead the souls to Helheim, or give shape to the weavings that they create. The shadow between the threads."
"Not one of Those Who Sit Above, or whatever their names are?"
Blinking, the woman's head tilted to the side. "Those Who Sit Above In Shadows. Not of my ilk, not my crafting. Outside of these realms, outside the reach of Yggdrasil. My power lies within these nine realms alone." She brought the stone up to her lips and let her tongue slip out and taste it. The move reminded Natasha of a cat lapping at a saucer of milk.
"What does that taste like?" she asked curiously.
"A replacement soul, you mean?" At Natasha's nod, she pondered that. "It nourishes. There is no taste. There is only being."
"It's magic, then."
"Different magicks. From different worlds. Unfamiliar, too. It is most peculiar." She turned and looked at Loki, and let one hand rise up to draw Loki forward against his will. "You. Frost Giant and Asgardian, on Midgard. You've traveled beyond Yggdrasil and through it, and this stone carries the essence of all of it and none."
Loki glared at her, teeth grit inside of his mouth, jaw set so tight that Natasha could see the muscles jumping in his neck.
"Give me Those Who Sit Above In Shadows," the woman demanded, the stars in the black pools of her eyes flaring as bright as his scars did. Her voice seemed to split into the trio again. "They long escaped our grasp, and are such that we cannot attack directly."
"You are the dark of the Norns," Loki said finally. "The reverse image of their power. Tales don't often speak of you."
"Bright boy," the woman said, lips stretching sideways into that eerie smile again. "As you are the inverse of your brother, I am the inverse of the Norns. I carry no name, only function. I have no whispers, no prayers, no song."
"Keep the stone," Natasha found herself saying. It was an impulse she didn't understand, but seemed to make sense. "It was made out of magic, power, song and love."
Loki turned to gape at Natasha, but she was staring at the strange woman.
The woman began to laugh, and then shoved the stone back into Natasha's chest. "I will accept your gift when you are done with it."
"But-"
"No," the woman said, voice gentle yet demanding at the same time. Natasha couldn't help but gasp as the stone burned and burrowed its way into her sternum. "You have need of this right now. I appreciate the gesture, Natalia Alianovna Romanova. You truly are his heart. You understand more than you think you do."
She leaned forward and kissed Natasha's forehead, then turned to kiss Loki's. "Care for her, little giant. If you don't, you will be truly lost."
And then they both woke inside the herb circle, the fires burned out of the chalices.
Natasha gasped, feeling a sharp pain in her chest, right where the stone had been lying. It was missing, but there was a mark on her skin not unlike the star shape that had been in the center of the stone. Unlike Loki's scar, it wasn't raised like a welt, but simply a discoloration. Touching it gently with her fingertip, she could feel warmth pulse beneath it.
She started a little when Loki's hand came to cover hers; his skin was still blue and his eyes were red. The raised swirls in his skin seemed to be almost like runes themselves. "Is this how we face Those Who Sit Above In Shadow? Is this how we stop Ragnarok?"
In a mournful tone of voice, Loki whispered "You have magic now. You'll come to their notice."
Wrapping her arms around him, Natasha let out a breath. "Then you and Wanda better teach me how to use this before it's too late."
***
If Wanda was startled by Loki in his frost giant form, she kept her thoughts to herself. He was unable to return to the Asgardian appearance, and that set him on edge. "What if you gave it up in your spell?" Natasha pointed out. "Your magic was a greenish gold. Wanda's is red." She lifted her fingers and a golden light seemed to curl around her fingers. "But now you have pure green magic, and mine is gold."
The rest of the Avengers may have gaped, but they said nothing at first. Thor openly gaped, but didn't say a word. After one too many challenging glares Loki sent them, Sam finally threw up his hands. "Man, you want to pick a fight about this? C'mon, you're an alien. So what? You're blue. Want me to call you a giant Smurf or something?"
Clint and his children sputtered with laughter, nearly making Loki apoplectic with rage. Laura simply shook her head. "Of course not, Sam," she said. It was the same tone she often took with Cooper. "Smurfs are little and go berry picking."
Lila had no fear at all, even with Loki's glower, and came over to touch the raised skin patterns on Loki's face and arms. "They're like vines," she said, grinning at him. "You know, that climb up a trellis. Is that where you keep your magic?"
Loki blinked and seemed to unwind a bit. "It doesn't trouble you?"
"Well, I'm not used to you being blue. But there's mutants in New York City, and some of 'em have blue skin, too. But Dad and Sam said you're an alien. So it makes sense you'd look different," she said with the same patient tone Laura had. "Now you're comfy with us here and you don't have to put on a human face, right?"
"Uh. It wasn't quite like that..."
"But is that where you keep your magic?"
"I don't believe anyone studied Jotnar to see where their magic rested. Most believed it to be evil." His voice was tight, and the adults were a bit wary of his response.
"Oh. It's like all the fairy tales, then?" At his blank look, she shrugged. "Well, they say there's good magic and bad magic in fairy tales, but it's really how it gets used, if you think about it. I mean, yes, Sleeping Beauty had to sleep for a hundred years, but she didn't die and she met her true love. So it's not all bad."
Cooper made gagging noises and Nathaniel poked him with his foot. "Finish reading the story!" the boy hissed, pointing at the large book in Cooper's lap. It was a book of fairy tales, which was likely why it had come to Lila's mind so quickly.
"I think it might be similar to that," Natasha agreed with Lila. "Magic is just magic. It's what you choose to do with it that matters."
Lila had the same smile on her face and went back to where her brothers were sitting in the common room. She snatched up the book from Cooper and stuck her tongue out at him. "I'll read to you, Nate," she told her younger brother. "He's being a doofus."
"Hey!" Cooper cried, reaching for the book. Lila leaned away from him, crowding into Nathaniel, who started shoving back.
With a practiced sigh, Laura got up and took the book from Lila. "My turn to read," she said simply. Nathaniel happily got out from under Lila and went to his mother's side. "You two," she said sternly to her older children, "do your reading in the den. Separate desks."
Clint only chuckled at Loki's bewildered expression. "Man, you never had a normal experience if you think that's weird." He only laughed harder when Natasha and Laura both reached over to smack his shoulder.
"So if there's three of you able to do magic," Steve said, firmly steering them back to topic. "Maybe more if you can find any other practitioners that can work these spells. Will we be able to stop Ragnarok?"
Loki had almost expected them to ask how he had gotten Natasha the ability to cast spells, but apparently it didn't matter to them. That was a surprise he wasn't entirely sure how to deal with. How did it not matter to these mortals how a being acquired magic? Didn't they care about what arcane thing he had to do? Didn't they guess it would have to be unspeakable, and some kind of depraved act?
But he would never put Natasha at risk, even for the sake of all nine realms, and they all knew that. Perhaps that was why it didn't matter about the how. They all knew the why, and accepted without question that he would help them without eventually turning on them.
He was trusted. He was worthy.
The fear and indecision eased a little, and he actually smiled at Steve. "Wanda will tear apart the fabric of time and space. The rest of us will do battle."
Thor lifted Mjolnir with an eager grin. "Finally!"
***
***