She'd noticed that the tea was sweeter. She was thankful for it too. She'd had vile stuff before, but that tea topped it all. It was worth it, though, to take the ache out of the wound that was still healing. The stone had worked wonders, but it still wasn't perfect. Natasha had a high threshold for pain, but there was no code to cling to now. No reason not to feel the pain she was given. There were no secrets to hide. None but her own.
Natasha had gotten sick of the healing quarters. She wanted fresh air, wanted sunlight, something other than the ghastly feeling of 'hospital' she got from the room she had been in, well-appointed though it was.
She was paging through a book that Alianora had given her, one whose subject was of great interest. It was a volume on the Princes of Asgard. In particular, Loki and Thor and their exploits when younger.
As Loki stepped onto the balcony and moved to her chaise, she shifted back and laid the book down, open-faced, onto her lap.
"Mm." She gave him an appraising look, a barely concealed smirk haunting her lips, amusement glittering in her eyes. "So, if we argue, you're not going to change my hair color in my sleep, are you? I'm sure Sif is fetching as a brunette, but I wonder what she might have looked like blonde."
Loki's brow furrowed a moment, then his face cleared and his eyes filled with horror all at once as he grabbed the book and looked at the cover. "Oh, no, how did you find this?" he groaned, setting it down again and scrubbing a hand through his hair.
"I still cannot believe Mother allowed that nosy, meddling scribe to set down our childish deeds," he muttered. "Though I am surprised you've not had that story from Sif herself. There was a time..." A time when she'd told the story to anyone who would listen, but it was no lighthearted tale the way the storyteller had written it down in that book.
Natasha watched Loki carefully, noting the horror that crossed his face. She resolved to set the book down, perhaps pick it up at a later date when he wasn't aware of it. No one liked their misdeeds splashed out on pages, but then, he knew her sins, didn't he? He'd asked Barton. He knew what she'd done. What she was capable of. But this was different. The work of a younger man.
Wasn't it?
"Would you rather I didn't read it? I figure it's intelligent for me to research the god I'm going to be marrying." She glanced back in the library. "Although a serving maid tried to tell me some licentious story about you she'd heard from the Lady Alianora's cousin..." She wondered how much of Loki's reputation was true.
"It isn't--no, of course you can read whatever you wish." Loki picked the book up again and his eyes skimmed over the words making his prank of Sif into what amounted to a fairy tale for children. "This is not the most historically accurate account," he added carefully as he set it aside again.
Loki hadn't really considered that as the Asgardians grew more comfortable with her, stories of the prince would be shared with her. Most of his reputation was true. The justifications never rode along in the telling of his deeds and misdeeds, but he couldn't deny that most of the stories themselves were true. "I think Thor may be the subject of that story, if it is indeed a licentious one," he rolled his eyes with a lighthearted laugh that didn't quite succeed. "I could tell you stories of that."
"Most things committed to paper aren't." Even her file wasn't entirely accurate. It had SHIELD's spin all over it. She didn't mind him putting the book aside. Though she'd spent most of her time alone, she didn't mind the company. Her stories were similar, though whatever Barton had revealed to him likely didn't need justification. She'd simply done and done well.
For no reason other than it was what she was made to do.
"Oh? No licentious stories about you? I doubt that. After all, you are the raven haired Prince. I doubt Thor dyed his hair for a night with a rather fetching noblewoman..." she felt her smirk growing. She didn't mind. Somehow, the stories made Loki seem a bit more human.
Loki had to resist the urge to reach up and tuck a lock of said raven-hair behind his ear. He needed to trim it, he thought irrelevantly, it was longer now that he'd ever worn it, almost longer than Thor had ever worn his. And no, in all their various exploits, Thor had never deviated from his usual bright gold by accident or design.
"A fetching--oh." It was possible that a spot of color appeared high on his cheekbones. "Rowena. The Lady Rowena, rather. That was long ago. And I did not begin that affair," he added, uncertain how far into the telling of the tale Natasha's informant had gotten. She'd been far older than he, and a widow, but he'd had to admire her subtlety. And her persistence.
The blush that painted itself on Loki's pale skin made her smirk widen. Such a subconscious gesture, uncontrolled and honest. She listened and nodded. She had her own history, of course, and she wouldn't divulge it unless asked, but while she was recovering, well...
It was fun to tease.
"Ah. So you were the prey. Not surprising. You are powerful. Handsome doesn't hurt, either." She said it in a matter of fact way that was straight and unabashed. She thought he was handsome, yes. The Asgardians were. They were all attractive here, it seemed, but they were the Gods of lore.
Rowena had shared Loki's natural proclivities toward secret-keeping, which in retrospect had likely been one of the reasons he'd eventually accepted her quiet but persistent advances. She'd certainly had no eye for the throne, nor did she collect young warriors as others were occasionally known to do. Eventually, Loki had come to the realization that Rowena had singled him out because he was different and he'd shunned her fairly quickly after that.
The frank comment was answered with a rather skeptical sidelong glance, but Loki only shrugged and reached out toward the small platter of delicacies the kitchens had provided for her. "She was bored. I was there," he answered nonchalantly. "But do let me know what other tales come to your ears from cousins. They will be entertaining, if nothing else."
The skeptical glance made Natasha purse her lips as she decided to drop it. It was apparent that he wasn't nearly so amused by her teasing. She leaned back in the chair and reached for one of the treats herself. She wasn't certain of what it was, but when she tasted it, she felt quite more enthusiastic about it.
"I'll make sure to do that. In the meantime, my apologies for keeping us holed up. I know you probably have things you need to be doing back home, since our mission here is completely." She had to wonder, though, if he liked it better here. He seemed calmer. Not so moody.
His was a different kind of beauty. It had been admired, but it had kept him separate. It would take more time before he could relax himself into the mindset that admiration was not misplaced, or worse, mockery in disguise. Though Natasha did not mock him. Needle, perhaps, and tease, but there was no mocking of the type that had dogged his heels throughout most of his childhood.
"I can think of nothing more enjoyable than an enforced extension of our holiday here," he answered honestly with a faintly apologetic smile. So much of their communication was through subtle expression, he thought. "I welcome it. In fact, I have elected to use the time to resolve once and for all the petty vendetta between these two families." Something which interested him quite a bit, it was apparent, even if he didn't realize it.
Natasha bit her tongue. Was this vendetta so petty to these people? No. There would always be war. Was his vendetta with Thor petty? To others, yes. To him, though... She gave him a thoughtful nod, her own eyes shrewd as she studied him for a moment before she took a deep breath, her brow flickering in pain for a moment. It pinched, hurt, but she wouldn't let it get the best of her.
"Good. It's peaceful here, relatively speaking." A wry smirk at that. She had been stabbed, after all. "None of the clamor of the castle." There was always someone wanting something at the keep in the Golden City. She liked being left to her own devices, though granted, it was due to her injury at the moment. The Ladies here had left her alone, though she could often see them hovering, wanting a chance to speak with her. She didn't have the patience for it yet.
"Petty" may be an unfair choice of word, but the two families had been in conflict for several hundred years, and neither of them had taken the step toward peace or toward open war, considered a more honorable concept in Asgard than halfhearted undirected hatred. The kidnapping attempt was the most drastic attack in over a century and Loki wanted to follow it up swiftly before it could be forgotten.
Loki's eyes flicked to her immediately at the sign of pain, but to his credit he didn't draw attention to it or ask if she was all right. He only nodded in agreement and reached for a pastry. "Recent events excepted, it has always been easy to find a peace in the country. I prefer it here. But of course, the palace was where we lived," he added quickly. It was what the people would expect from the unmarried princes.
She was glad when he didn't address her weakness. She'd recalled the look in his eyes when she'd been injured only half as well. She'd been in pain, and then drugged, and she couldn't be certain if she'd dreamed of him worrying over her or if it had been reality.
"Well, I was stabbed in both the city and the country, so I guess I can draw it even." One eyebrow quirked up with her lips, recalling the skirmish they'd had when she'd first arrived. "It's beautiful out here, in the country. I can see why you like it here. Would you want to stay here? If your father doesn't need you in the city?"
"That was a sparring accident," Loki protested, but without the heat of anger his words might have carried if she'd brought it up earlier. "If you are thinking of safety, clearly the city is better, judging from your own history."
He looked out over the forest he could see from the balcony, brow furrowed at the question. "I hadn't considered it," he answered after a few moments. "Not in any serious way. I had always assumed..." Assumed that when Thor was king, Loki would need to be very close by to prevent his missteps and errors in judgment. But a lot had changed.
Her eyebrows raised up as she leaned forward, ignoring the pain in her side. A sparring accident. She still wondered if he hadn't carried a grudge for prior incidences. "From my own history, I've never shied away from danger in any form. I think that might be the better aspect to consider."
Her eyes moved over his profile as he stared out at the countryside and she wondered. Had he really never considered it? Or had it been a wistful wish at some point? God knew she had them. She'd been a ballerina once. She would never be one again.
"You'd assumed that you'd need to stay on as an advisor. That your brother would be too bullheaded to see reason." Thor was different now, she'd heard that from many people. Responsible. He'd learned to be less foolhardy. "What about now?" she reached out, resting a palm on his forearm, lightly squeezing.
Well, they'd been sparring and it had been an accident. He should have been more mindful, but it had been far too early for them to attempt unarmed sparring together; the trust wasn't there yet. Loki paused for a moment as the realization sank in that there was simply no way such a mistake would happen now.
"Now..." He settled a hand over hers on his arm, frowning in thought. "Now I do not know," he finished with a sigh. "I cannot imagine Thor would wish me to be his advisor when he takes the throne, even if he were to need one. And I certainly have no duties now. Behave myself and attempt to avoid enslaving any realms." His smile only carried an edge of bitterness, easily shaken off by leaning into her.
Natasha had gotten sick of the healing quarters. She wanted fresh air, wanted sunlight, something other than the ghastly feeling of 'hospital' she got from the room she had been in, well-appointed though it was.
She was paging through a book that Alianora had given her, one whose subject was of great interest. It was a volume on the Princes of Asgard. In particular, Loki and Thor and their exploits when younger.
As Loki stepped onto the balcony and moved to her chaise, she shifted back and laid the book down, open-faced, onto her lap.
"Mm." She gave him an appraising look, a barely concealed smirk haunting her lips, amusement glittering in her eyes. "So, if we argue, you're not going to change my hair color in my sleep, are you? I'm sure Sif is fetching as a brunette, but I wonder what she might have looked like blonde."
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"I still cannot believe Mother allowed that nosy, meddling scribe to set down our childish deeds," he muttered. "Though I am surprised you've not had that story from Sif herself. There was a time..." A time when she'd told the story to anyone who would listen, but it was no lighthearted tale the way the storyteller had written it down in that book.
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Wasn't it?
"Would you rather I didn't read it? I figure it's intelligent for me to research the god I'm going to be marrying." She glanced back in the library. "Although a serving maid tried to tell me some licentious story about you she'd heard from the Lady Alianora's cousin..." She wondered how much of Loki's reputation was true.
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Loki hadn't really considered that as the Asgardians grew more comfortable with her, stories of the prince would be shared with her. Most of his reputation was true. The justifications never rode along in the telling of his deeds and misdeeds, but he couldn't deny that most of the stories themselves were true. "I think Thor may be the subject of that story, if it is indeed a licentious one," he rolled his eyes with a lighthearted laugh that didn't quite succeed. "I could tell you stories of that."
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For no reason other than it was what she was made to do.
"Oh? No licentious stories about you? I doubt that. After all, you are the raven haired Prince. I doubt Thor dyed his hair for a night with a rather fetching noblewoman..." she felt her smirk growing. She didn't mind. Somehow, the stories made Loki seem a bit more human.
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"A fetching--oh." It was possible that a spot of color appeared high on his cheekbones. "Rowena. The Lady Rowena, rather. That was long ago. And I did not begin that affair," he added, uncertain how far into the telling of the tale Natasha's informant had gotten. She'd been far older than he, and a widow, but he'd had to admire her subtlety. And her persistence.
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It was fun to tease.
"Ah. So you were the prey. Not surprising. You are powerful. Handsome doesn't hurt, either." She said it in a matter of fact way that was straight and unabashed. She thought he was handsome, yes. The Asgardians were. They were all attractive here, it seemed, but they were the Gods of lore.
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The frank comment was answered with a rather skeptical sidelong glance, but Loki only shrugged and reached out toward the small platter of delicacies the kitchens had provided for her. "She was bored. I was there," he answered nonchalantly. "But do let me know what other tales come to your ears from cousins. They will be entertaining, if nothing else."
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"I'll make sure to do that. In the meantime, my apologies for keeping us holed up. I know you probably have things you need to be doing back home, since our mission here is completely." She had to wonder, though, if he liked it better here. He seemed calmer. Not so moody.
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"I can think of nothing more enjoyable than an enforced extension of our holiday here," he answered honestly with a faintly apologetic smile. So much of their communication was through subtle expression, he thought. "I welcome it. In fact, I have elected to use the time to resolve once and for all the petty vendetta between these two families." Something which interested him quite a bit, it was apparent, even if he didn't realize it.
Reply
"Good. It's peaceful here, relatively speaking." A wry smirk at that. She had been stabbed, after all. "None of the clamor of the castle." There was always someone wanting something at the keep in the Golden City. She liked being left to her own devices, though granted, it was due to her injury at the moment. The Ladies here had left her alone, though she could often see them hovering, wanting a chance to speak with her. She didn't have the patience for it yet.
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Loki's eyes flicked to her immediately at the sign of pain, but to his credit he didn't draw attention to it or ask if she was all right. He only nodded in agreement and reached for a pastry. "Recent events excepted, it has always been easy to find a peace in the country. I prefer it here. But of course, the palace was where we lived," he added quickly. It was what the people would expect from the unmarried princes.
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"Well, I was stabbed in both the city and the country, so I guess I can draw it even." One eyebrow quirked up with her lips, recalling the skirmish they'd had when she'd first arrived. "It's beautiful out here, in the country. I can see why you like it here. Would you want to stay here? If your father doesn't need you in the city?"
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He looked out over the forest he could see from the balcony, brow furrowed at the question. "I hadn't considered it," he answered after a few moments. "Not in any serious way. I had always assumed..." Assumed that when Thor was king, Loki would need to be very close by to prevent his missteps and errors in judgment. But a lot had changed.
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Her eyes moved over his profile as he stared out at the countryside and she wondered. Had he really never considered it? Or had it been a wistful wish at some point? God knew she had them. She'd been a ballerina once. She would never be one again.
"You'd assumed that you'd need to stay on as an advisor. That your brother would be too bullheaded to see reason." Thor was different now, she'd heard that from many people. Responsible. He'd learned to be less foolhardy. "What about now?" she reached out, resting a palm on his forearm, lightly squeezing.
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"Now..." He settled a hand over hers on his arm, frowning in thought. "Now I do not know," he finished with a sigh. "I cannot imagine Thor would wish me to be his advisor when he takes the throne, even if he were to need one. And I certainly have no duties now. Behave myself and attempt to avoid enslaving any realms." His smile only carried an edge of bitterness, easily shaken off by leaning into her.
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