Change Is Coming Soon. (Siege #5) Loki/Natasha.
Title: Change Is Coming Soon
Series: #5 in Ready For The Siege
(#1 - Look Over Your Shoulder, #2 - Armed Up To The Teeth, #3 - Misery Inspires, #4 - Broken Underneath)
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: References to Loki/Natasha
Disclaimer: Not mine! Some comic backstory is incorporated into characterizations, but this is still primarily movieverse.
Spoilers/Warnings: Post-movie.
Title and series title from "The Royal We" by Silversun Pickups
Summary: Natasha starts over, finding out she wasn't as alone as she thought she was.
Natasha approached Thor after making sure no one else was around. He was watching the digital version of Beowulf, fascinated by the tale. Thor looked up when she entered the common room at Avengers Tower, a wide smile on his face. "My Lady Natasha. Clint had said your director displayed faith in you."
She wouldn't have put it quite that way. But he had called her into his office on the helicarrier after Clint had let her out of her cell. For a time he had said nothing, just looked at her levelly. "This was not what we had in mind when we started this plan."
"No, it was not," Natasha replied in a level tone. This "we" business might have been his way of offering an apology, but she didn't want to accept it. It had been on his order that she had been brought this low, and they both knew it.
"I'll take care of the Council," Fury said when she didn't say anything further. "You were under orders. My orders."
"And now, sir?" she asked, voice flat.
"Are you interested in revenge?" he asked her directly.
"No." He clearly didn't believe her, but Natasha shrugged. "No point to that. He wanted me alone and bested."
"You're neither."
"Kind of you to say so," Natasha began.
"That's not kindness, that's fact," Fury interrupted bluntly. "When have you ever known me to be kind?"
Natasha couldn't help but laugh a little. "Point."
"Take what time you need," he said in a voice gentler than she was used to hearing. "Even if revenge isn't on your mind, it might be on someone's."
Meaning Clint, of course. Natasha had nodded briskly. "I'll take care of it, sir."
Once he dismissed her, she had come directly to find Thor. Clint would likely be putting a report together for Sitwell, so that would occupy him for a while. Natasha didn't need him thinking her mind was ruined by the time spent with Loki.
"You know some of the trouble I'm in," Natasha guessed, looking at Thor's expression.
It was troubled as he nodded. "But to believe such lies my brother tells is folly. I will defend your honor, Lady Natasha! You tried to help Loki, and he has repaid you with treachery."
"I understood the risk," Natasha began, then paused. "I thought I understood the risk." Thor nodded unhappily. "But it doesn't matter now." She held up a hand when he would have said something. "No, it really doesn't matter. I failed to bring him in for SHIELD. There will be other missions, other ways to show them where my loyalties lie."
"I understand," Thor replied. He impulsively reached out and grasped her hands in his. "I wish you had not suffered under his hands, Natasha. You would have been a boon companion, but he did not see this."
Natasha blinked, not sure she heard correctly. To be honest, she would have thought Thor would blame her for not pulling Loki into SHIELD's fold. It was rather heartening to realize she was wrong and still held his regard. "In that building with the dead accountants," Natasha began slowly, not entirely sure where to start with this. "I thought I saw someone. A woman, dead, with long black hair and looking almost like Loki. She disappeared through a portal, but I don't think anyone else saw her."
Thor didn't look terribly troubled. "The Lady Hel, perhaps? She reaps the souls of the dead for Helheim. Touched by the seidr as you've been, you likely were allowed to see her as she did her work."
"Is there a way to contact her?"
"Whatever for?" Thor asked, concerned.
"These people were not supposed to die. I'd bargain for their souls if I could." Natasha patted his arm when he would have spoken. "There might not be anything I can do, and I won't force it, but I should at least try. They were innocent."
"Ah," Thor said with a smile. "You see? Your heart will lead you true. I am sure of this."
Natasha smiled faintly. "So how may I speak with Hel?"
He didn't know, but thought perhaps Frigga would. By a rather complicated process, Thor contacted his mother on Natasha's behalf to explain what she wanted to do. Frigga approved, as she sent a bundle to Natasha's room with directions written on parchment in an elegant hand. Following the directions carefully, Natasha used kosher salt mixed with herbs to create a circle to sit in, as well as the runes to create a connection to Helheim. She recited the incantation as best as she could, and the salt began to burn. The herbs smoked, releasing a fragrant aroma. It was heady and made her dizzy, as if the room was spinning. Natasha lost her balance even though she was sitting, and fell to the side, coughing.
When the smoke cleared, she wasn't in her suite of rooms at Avengers Tower. The land around her seemed to be in perpetual twilight, no sun visible. Some of the trees had silvery leaves still on the branches. Others were bare, like skeletal hands reaching up into the sky. It looked like crows or ravens overhead, lazily flying toward a castle in the distance.
With nothing else in sight to walk toward, Natasha started for the castle. There were few creatures about, and it was a quiet, contemplative walk. Usually she enjoyed them, but not this one. She was tense, not sure what her reception would be or if Hel would simply claim her and be done with it. That wouldn't have given her pause years ago, but now she was part of something. Now she had ties, had earned respect and was in the process of wiping out some of the red in her ledger. If Hel wanted to keep her, Natasha wouldn't be able to stop her and couldn't settle her old debts.
There was no challenge at the gate, and Natasha walked right into the castle. This had the quality of a dream, where her actions seemed to make sense at the time, but not true logical sense.
The throne room ahead was empty save for the throne itself. It was carved ebony with inlaid silver and mother of pearl, colors mirroring its occupant. She was the same spindly, corpselike figure Natasha had seen before, her skin deathly pale and her long black tresses falling straight down her back. Her gown was silver with black runes, the weave so fine it seemed to be made of gossamer spider's silk. The woman smiled at her, sharp teeth visible and looking like Loki's mischievous best.
"Lady Hel, I presume?" Natasha asked as she approached.
"I am the Lady Hel, as my mother was before me and her mother was before her," Hel replied, her voice sounding like the whisper of dead leaves moving over the grave.
"There are tales that say Loki is your father."
"He might be, he might not be," Hel replied, unperturbed. "Inheritance is matrilineal here. Sires are unnecessary past a certain point."
Natasha couldn't help but smile at her wry tone. "Indeed. I hope there are not any alliances between your realm and Loki, because I have a favor to ask of you."
"Oh?" Hel asked, sounding interested.
"There was a mission I undertook, where Loki assured me no innocents would be harmed. But they were slaughtered... That's where I saw you."
"I remember it well."
"Would I be able to bargain for their return?"
Hel cocked her head to the side. "Why would you do this?"
"I've sent many souls to you, I'm sure."
"My ranks have indeed swelled greatly due to your talents." Her smile was razor sharp, reminding Natasha of a shark. "All foul creatures who died belong here."
Natasha nodded briefly. "Perhaps, but they wouldn't have come here then if not for my interventions. Those accountants shouldn't have died. They were innocent, and I need to save them if I can."
"Why?" Hel asked, curious.
"I've been trying to balance the death I've brought to this world, and those accountants shouldn't have died. I've tried to keep that balance, to take some of the red out of my ledger and make it mean something. I wasn't aware of the damage I did as a child, but I'm aware of it now. I'm responsible for it now."
"How are you responsible?"
"It was my op, my intel. Those lives are on my account."
Hel shook her head. "You are not versed in seidr, and you cannot see the patterns of fate. Those lives were doomed to arrive in my realm. They belong to me, as they were meant to. Your presence or absence would not have mattered. They would have come to rest here in final repose no matter your intervention."
Relief flooded through Natasha, washing away some of her guilt. "Oh," she murmured, exhaling. "I didn't cause their deaths."
"Indeed not."
Tension bled out of her. "So you won't let them go."
"No, darling Natasha. As many souls as you've given me, I will not give these to you."
"Because I haven't died?" she asked, curious.
"Oh, no," Hel replied, a genuine smile on her face. "I do not begrudge you the struggle to stay alive. You fought to remain alive and won. No, Natasha. I will not give them to you because they are mine. They were meant to be mine, so there is no bargain you can make for their lives."
Natasha sighed, feeling foolish. "Oh."
"I'm glad you don't wish for their lives as revenge against Loki. He is considered kin in this realm."
"There's no point in revenge. He was just a mission. I made a mistake and I'm trying to correct it." Natasha spoke plainly, seeing no need for subterfuge in this situation.
Hel seemed to appreciate that. "I see that." She smiled her genuine smile, relaxed and leaning back slightly in her throne. "His attack on your character was personal, you realize."
"He was just a job."
"You do realize that would make him terribly angry."
Natasha couldn't help but smile. "I suppose so."
"He's escaped my realm many times, but not through honest combat. By trickery he escaped here when he should have been mine."
There was steel in her voice, suppressed anger at his treachery. On that point, they seemed in complete agreement.
Contemplating Hel, Natasha looked at her. "Can you tell me why you appeared to me, then?"
Hel rose from her throne, an eerie smile on her face. "Natasha," she said in her ghostly, whispery voice. "You're mine. You don't belong to my realm, but you aid me, you feed me souls. Someday, when you die in due time, you will come to me and help rule the souls here." Her touch was cold, the touch of a long dead corpse against her skin. "I appeared to you because we are brethren. You may ask for a favor in my power to give you."
Natasha let out a breath slowly. "I'd like to wipe out some of the red in my ledger. I want to balance it out."
"And Loki?" Hel asked, head tilted to the side out of curiosity.
"I only care about him in the sense that if he destroyed my credibility with SHIELD, I can't bring any balance to my life. I don't want that."
Smiling widely at Natasha, Hel leaned in and kissed her forehead. "Child of my realm, you may have this. I give you my protection; the gifts of life and death are your own, and you don't need additional help there."
Her entire body felt warm and tingly. "So what does this mean on Midgard?"
Hel smiled. "None may kill you until I call you home. You might be injured or harmed, perhaps, but you will not die. Eventually you will heal from your wounds, likely faster than those not blessed by my protection."
"Like Steve Rogers? Captain America?"
"It was not a boon I granted him, but yes. It would work similar to the skill he possesses. This will allow you to balance the scales you tipped toward my realm."
"It doesn't trouble you that I won't die, then?"
"Natasha," Hel said merrily, looping an arm around her torso and pulling her close. "You will send many, many souls to me this way. Perhaps you may send my dissolute father home at last. Perhaps you will not. But in righting your perceived wrongs, my realm will grow. This pleases me, and I wish you greatness in this endeavor."
Before Natasha could say anything else, Hel kissed her on the mouth. The warm, tingly feeling flared to life, as if magic was burning its way through her from the inside out. The scars on her wrists and abdomen burned hotter, Hel's power destroying the hold Loki may have had on her. It grew even more intense, and Hel's arm around her was the only thing keeping Natasha on her feet. She couldn't breathe until the fire burned itself out, and dimly she realized Hel was breathing into her mouth as if performing some kind of magical CPR.
Cradling her like a child as the fire died out, Hel pressed her lips to Natasha's cheek. "Dear one. Go, with my blessings."
There was a flash of light, and Natasha was standing in her suite at Avengers Tower. The salt and herbs were gone, though their scent lingered. Checking her body, all of her myriad scars were gone, including those from Loki.
Well, now. Perhaps Natasha wasn't as bad off as she initially thought she was.
***
It was soothing to pilot the quinjet holding the assortment of SHIELD agents and Tony Stark in the back. He was showing off, as usual, but she could tune out his voice easily. The agents had requested his expertise in disabling the batch of AIM technology that they had secured, and he had insisted on Natasha flying them there. She appreciated the subtle vote of confidence from him. Steve Rogers hadn't been quite so subtle; he had simply taken her aside in the common room at Avengers Tower and held her in a tight hug. She had been able to respond to it, warmly returning the embrace and the sentiment he held for her. You're ours, his hug told her, and we never leave one of our own behind.
Clint had been right, of course. She hadn't been compromised the way she had feared she was. She may have been manipulated and duped, but her mind really was her own. With Loki's hold gone, Natasha's control over her actions was absolute once more.
"How long 'till we touch down?" Tony complained, leaning toward the cockpit. "I could've flown there faster on my own."
"Still can, if you feel like jumping out of the back," Natasha replied, a slight smile on her lips. "You know Steve does that all the time."
He snorted and rolled his eyes. "Yeah. And they call me a showboat."
"If the iron shoe fits..."
Tony laughed out loud. "It should. I made it myself." He turned to look past her, at the clouds and open expanse of sky. "It's peaceful up here."
"Yes, it is."
He took in her quiet appreciation for a moment, then stood up straight to head back to the other agents. "It's like meditation." Tony rolled his eyes again when Natasha actually jerked her head around to look at him incredulously. "Pepper makes me do it while she does her yoga. Hey, if I look at her getting bendy, it's meditation. Okay?"
"That sounds like you," Natasha replied with a smile, turning back around to look at where she was going.
"Sometimes the quiet is a good thing," Tony murmured after a few minutes of silence.
Natasha was startled by his hushed, honest tone. "Yes, it is. Too much noise all around, and it's hard to think. You can't process anything, and it all goes by too fast."
"You know, you surprise me."
She couldn't help but smile, even if she didn't turn around to look at him. "You surprise me, too, Stark. Who knew there was a philosophical side to you?"
Tony's chuckle was a little self deprecating. "Stick around long enough, I'm sure there will be all kinds of other things you discover."
The smile stayed on her face even after he went to sit down with the other agents in the back of the Quinjet. It was good to hear that she was still part of the Avengers team, too.
***
Natasha sat in her usual small office, breathing in the atmosphere. Her collections of files were still where she had left them, not even touched since her last visit there. She went through them, feeling as though she was staring at the dossiers with brand new eyes. Perhaps they were; she didn't know the extent of Hel's changes to her body, but her reflexes were still lightning fast and she could still ferret out the patterns of the opposition's spies.
Laying out all of the files on her desk, her eyes scanned the disparate data. Sometimes she was able to find new connections that way, letting her unconscious mind travel without clear direction. It sometimes was harder to substantiate to superiors without definitive proof, but usually she was able to find it once she knew what she should be looking for.
For months now, they had been looking for places where Clive Meissen had been, in order to try to plot out where he would go next.
What Natasha saw now was where he hadn't been, despite known AIM, Hydra or SHIELD activity. If he was an active player, he would have to be nearby to track their agents and respond in a timely manner.
"It's a question of knowing where to look," Natasha murmured, smiling gently.
Gathering up the files, she headed for Fury's office.
***
Geneva in summertime was warm and sunny, a gentle breeze blowing just enough to make it a pleasant day. Aside from the usual tourist attractions, financial district concerns and international organization headquarters, there was also a base of operations that SHIELD maintained with many experienced agents. Odds were good that some terrorist organization would target Geneva, after all, so it was generally held to be a good idea to maintain a presence, however low key, in order to fight the potential dangers.
In retrospect, Natasha was angry with herself for not thinking of Geneva sooner.
Hair dyed black, she arrived in Geneva Station with an assumed identity of a Level 6 agent. She worked her way through different areas of the building, not finding Meissen in the usual areas that a Level 6 agent would be permitted. While she hadn't really thought he would be hiding in plain sight that way, it would have been nice to have this go easy for a change.
Suppressing a sigh of irritation, Natasha took the false badge from the lapel of the suit jacket as she headed down a different corridor. Of course the guards attempted to stop her, but they were trained by the usual suspects. She didn't even break a sweat in taking them down, leaving them passed out for their superiors to find. Striding down the corridors, she headed to the sublevel that required at least Level 8 clearance.
Making a mental note to talk to the Station head about security measures, she bypassed the identifying panel and continued to check all of the hallways for Meissen. He had to be hiding here; it was too perfect a spot to pass up. He was playing all sides for fools, after all, and where else could he siphon off more data to sell to the highest bidder?
He looked up as she entered the office he was using, eyes wide. As Meissen rose, hand swinging up with a Walther PPK, Natasha pitched herself forward into a roll. The bullets whizzed over her head, and she was in front of him before he could correct his arm. Natasha hit him in the throat with a single sharp movement. As he struggled to breathe, his grip on the Walther was loosened and she easily took it from him as she shoved him back down in the chair. Pointing it at the center of his forehead, Natasha stared at him grimly. "The names of your clients, Meissen. Now."
"I tell you that, you kill me."
Natasha didn't break eye contact as she lowered the Walther enough to shoot him in the thigh. He cried out, jerking in the chair. "You would have had a full magazine. There are still four bullets left, and a number of nonvital organs. Your choice."
Meissen gulped, staring at her impassive face. For a moment, his face betrayed his fear and tension, but then it smoothed out. That was the only telegraphed warning she got before he tried to attack her.
It was close quarters combat and Meissen was desperate. He hadn't kept up his certifications the way he should have, so his moves were sloppy and easy for Natasha to counter. She shot him in the arm, taking no joy in his howl of pain as his bone splintered from the force of the bullet. Knocking him to the floor, she pushed her stiletto heel into his thigh wound, making him scream in pain. "Names, Meissen." Natasha turned her ankle slightly, twisting the heel into the wound a little farther.
Sobbing, Meissen started whispering some names. When he swore up and down that he was being honest, Natasha removed her foot and inclined her head sharply. Eyeing Meissen, she called Director Fury personally from the phone on the office desk. He closed his eyes and his entire body sagged against the floor as she spoke, reciting every name he had given her, as well as the probable source of his access codes to the Geneva Station.
"You've ruined everything," he said, defeated.
"Thank you for your cooperation," she intoned, keeping hold of the Walther. The corner of her lip quirked up into a smile. "There's a holding cell waiting for you. Director Fury would like to speak with you personally."
That was never a good sign, and Meissen shuddered.
***
It was inevitable that Natasha would see Loki again. He would want to see her and gloat over his presumed victory, his play rendering her role useless within SHIELD. He would want her to beg and grovel at his feet, pleading with him to allow her to get her job back.
If he really believed she would do any of that, he didn't know her as well as he presumed to.
Loki circled her on the observation deck of the helicarrier. "I did not expect to find you here," he began, a slight mocking twist to his lips. "And certainly not in that uniform."
Natasha lifted one eyebrow at him, and gestured with the file folder she was carrying. "Did you expect something different?"
"Shouldn't you be in a cell?"
"What for?" she asked, no inflection to her tone. "The deaths of those accountants occurred before we even arrived on the scene." She gestured to a nearby agent to take the folder from her and direct it to Sitwell. The agent looked at Loki, then hurried off in the opposite direction. "You saw to that, after all."
"Your precious innocents died. You didn't stop it."
"I didn't kill them. Agents here are fully aware of that and whose fault it truly was."
"They should not trust you!" Loki seethed, teeth grit and bared at her.
"The World Council doesn't, if that makes you feel better," Natasha told him mildly, her expression still serene and calm. That made Loki even angrier, and he clenched his fists at his sides. There was a slight halo around each fist, as if magic was building up. "Do you plan on hitting me?"
"You were beaten and cowed," Loki snarled. The flare around his fists grew a bit brighter, but Natasha stood her ground. That she didn't step back or flinch in the face of his wrath also made his temper flare.
"I appeared that way," she told him. For a while she did indeed feel beaten and used. Not cowed, exactly, because that wasn't her way. But he had seen through her far better than she had seen through him, and that had been humbling.
"You were!" he cried, swinging one of his fists toward her face.
Natasha caught his fist in her hands, and she could feel the scorching heat in her palms. Her flesh was burning, the smell acrid and nauseating. Still, she held her ground and could feel the skin healing even as it burned. She supposed it would look the way Steve's did as he fought.
Loki paused after a moment, the glow fading from his hands. "You are changed. You're something more than mortal now."
She shook her head. "I'm the same as I was before. You never understood. You were just a job, Loki." Natasha couldn't help but smile at his incredulous look. "What? I told you what I wanted in the beginning, just as you told me."
"You could not heal like this before."
"You never tried to burn me before."
Nonplused, he grasped her by the throat. "What would happen if I tried to choke you?"
Her reflexes had been fast before, enhanced by his magic. Now, it wasn't Loki's magic but her own, something Hel had given her as well as her healing ability. Natasha had one of Loki's own knives in her hand, and she sliced deeply into the wrist holding her. He hissed in pain and let go abruptly, his fingers dangling uselessly at his side.
"Hel would like to see you," Natasha said with a slight smile to her lips. "Shall we send you to her? I'm sure there's much the two of you need to discuss."
Loki's lips parted in something Natasha assumed was shock. "You can do no such thing."
"Oh, I couldn't conjure her on my own, no," she answered with that same slight smile. She shifted her grip on his knife and let her smile widen. "But there's always the old fashioned way, and she did ask me to send you home."
When she stabbed at his chest, the armor blocked the blade and caused it to shatter. Natasha opened her hand and shrugged, letting the hilt fall from her loose grasp to the floor. She hadn't brought any pistols with her, and she already knew the Widow's Bites and her custom blades wouldn't be able to harm him through his enchanted armor. "Oh well. I suppose that day is not today, then."
"You insignificant insect," Loki snarled, reaching for her. Natasha stepped gracefully out of the way, her smile wide and sure. "I had you at my mercy and begging for release."
She shrugged again, and then turned her back to Loki, as if he didn't matter. "Yeah, that was a good time. Still just a job. It didn't work out, but there will always be other missions." He howled in anger, but she stepped out of the way of his charge. He went sprawling when she spun away from his hasty lunge and kicked him away from her, and he glowered up at her from his undignified position. "You don't have anyone else to recognize you for what you are," she continued in the same careless tone. "Such a pity. There had been potential for more."
Natasha left without a backward glance. As far as she was concerned, her account with Loki was balanced, her ledger still creeping toward the black.
He would return, vicious and vengeful, plotting something convoluted. Perhaps she would be able to see through it, stopping him from whatever devastation he had planned. With her new healing ability, it was quite possible that Natasha's lifespan had just been exponentially lengthened. If that was so, hundreds of years could pass before Loki's ire calmed down. One day, there would be a reckoning. That day would not be today; he would likely retreat to his pocket universe and lick his wounds, plan what he could do to her in return for this.
Some days, everything worked out the way it needed to.
The End
Series: #5 in Ready For The Siege
(#1 - Look Over Your Shoulder, #2 - Armed Up To The Teeth, #3 - Misery Inspires, #4 - Broken Underneath)
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: References to Loki/Natasha
Disclaimer: Not mine! Some comic backstory is incorporated into characterizations, but this is still primarily movieverse.
Spoilers/Warnings: Post-movie.
Title and series title from "The Royal We" by Silversun Pickups
Summary: Natasha starts over, finding out she wasn't as alone as she thought she was.
Natasha approached Thor after making sure no one else was around. He was watching the digital version of Beowulf, fascinated by the tale. Thor looked up when she entered the common room at Avengers Tower, a wide smile on his face. "My Lady Natasha. Clint had said your director displayed faith in you."
She wouldn't have put it quite that way. But he had called her into his office on the helicarrier after Clint had let her out of her cell. For a time he had said nothing, just looked at her levelly. "This was not what we had in mind when we started this plan."
"No, it was not," Natasha replied in a level tone. This "we" business might have been his way of offering an apology, but she didn't want to accept it. It had been on his order that she had been brought this low, and they both knew it.
"I'll take care of the Council," Fury said when she didn't say anything further. "You were under orders. My orders."
"And now, sir?" she asked, voice flat.
"Are you interested in revenge?" he asked her directly.
"No." He clearly didn't believe her, but Natasha shrugged. "No point to that. He wanted me alone and bested."
"You're neither."
"Kind of you to say so," Natasha began.
"That's not kindness, that's fact," Fury interrupted bluntly. "When have you ever known me to be kind?"
Natasha couldn't help but laugh a little. "Point."
"Take what time you need," he said in a voice gentler than she was used to hearing. "Even if revenge isn't on your mind, it might be on someone's."
Meaning Clint, of course. Natasha had nodded briskly. "I'll take care of it, sir."
Once he dismissed her, she had come directly to find Thor. Clint would likely be putting a report together for Sitwell, so that would occupy him for a while. Natasha didn't need him thinking her mind was ruined by the time spent with Loki.
"You know some of the trouble I'm in," Natasha guessed, looking at Thor's expression.
It was troubled as he nodded. "But to believe such lies my brother tells is folly. I will defend your honor, Lady Natasha! You tried to help Loki, and he has repaid you with treachery."
"I understood the risk," Natasha began, then paused. "I thought I understood the risk." Thor nodded unhappily. "But it doesn't matter now." She held up a hand when he would have said something. "No, it really doesn't matter. I failed to bring him in for SHIELD. There will be other missions, other ways to show them where my loyalties lie."
"I understand," Thor replied. He impulsively reached out and grasped her hands in his. "I wish you had not suffered under his hands, Natasha. You would have been a boon companion, but he did not see this."
Natasha blinked, not sure she heard correctly. To be honest, she would have thought Thor would blame her for not pulling Loki into SHIELD's fold. It was rather heartening to realize she was wrong and still held his regard. "In that building with the dead accountants," Natasha began slowly, not entirely sure where to start with this. "I thought I saw someone. A woman, dead, with long black hair and looking almost like Loki. She disappeared through a portal, but I don't think anyone else saw her."
Thor didn't look terribly troubled. "The Lady Hel, perhaps? She reaps the souls of the dead for Helheim. Touched by the seidr as you've been, you likely were allowed to see her as she did her work."
"Is there a way to contact her?"
"Whatever for?" Thor asked, concerned.
"These people were not supposed to die. I'd bargain for their souls if I could." Natasha patted his arm when he would have spoken. "There might not be anything I can do, and I won't force it, but I should at least try. They were innocent."
"Ah," Thor said with a smile. "You see? Your heart will lead you true. I am sure of this."
Natasha smiled faintly. "So how may I speak with Hel?"
He didn't know, but thought perhaps Frigga would. By a rather complicated process, Thor contacted his mother on Natasha's behalf to explain what she wanted to do. Frigga approved, as she sent a bundle to Natasha's room with directions written on parchment in an elegant hand. Following the directions carefully, Natasha used kosher salt mixed with herbs to create a circle to sit in, as well as the runes to create a connection to Helheim. She recited the incantation as best as she could, and the salt began to burn. The herbs smoked, releasing a fragrant aroma. It was heady and made her dizzy, as if the room was spinning. Natasha lost her balance even though she was sitting, and fell to the side, coughing.
When the smoke cleared, she wasn't in her suite of rooms at Avengers Tower. The land around her seemed to be in perpetual twilight, no sun visible. Some of the trees had silvery leaves still on the branches. Others were bare, like skeletal hands reaching up into the sky. It looked like crows or ravens overhead, lazily flying toward a castle in the distance.
With nothing else in sight to walk toward, Natasha started for the castle. There were few creatures about, and it was a quiet, contemplative walk. Usually she enjoyed them, but not this one. She was tense, not sure what her reception would be or if Hel would simply claim her and be done with it. That wouldn't have given her pause years ago, but now she was part of something. Now she had ties, had earned respect and was in the process of wiping out some of the red in her ledger. If Hel wanted to keep her, Natasha wouldn't be able to stop her and couldn't settle her old debts.
There was no challenge at the gate, and Natasha walked right into the castle. This had the quality of a dream, where her actions seemed to make sense at the time, but not true logical sense.
The throne room ahead was empty save for the throne itself. It was carved ebony with inlaid silver and mother of pearl, colors mirroring its occupant. She was the same spindly, corpselike figure Natasha had seen before, her skin deathly pale and her long black tresses falling straight down her back. Her gown was silver with black runes, the weave so fine it seemed to be made of gossamer spider's silk. The woman smiled at her, sharp teeth visible and looking like Loki's mischievous best.
"Lady Hel, I presume?" Natasha asked as she approached.
"I am the Lady Hel, as my mother was before me and her mother was before her," Hel replied, her voice sounding like the whisper of dead leaves moving over the grave.
"There are tales that say Loki is your father."
"He might be, he might not be," Hel replied, unperturbed. "Inheritance is matrilineal here. Sires are unnecessary past a certain point."
Natasha couldn't help but smile at her wry tone. "Indeed. I hope there are not any alliances between your realm and Loki, because I have a favor to ask of you."
"Oh?" Hel asked, sounding interested.
"There was a mission I undertook, where Loki assured me no innocents would be harmed. But they were slaughtered... That's where I saw you."
"I remember it well."
"Would I be able to bargain for their return?"
Hel cocked her head to the side. "Why would you do this?"
"I've sent many souls to you, I'm sure."
"My ranks have indeed swelled greatly due to your talents." Her smile was razor sharp, reminding Natasha of a shark. "All foul creatures who died belong here."
Natasha nodded briefly. "Perhaps, but they wouldn't have come here then if not for my interventions. Those accountants shouldn't have died. They were innocent, and I need to save them if I can."
"Why?" Hel asked, curious.
"I've been trying to balance the death I've brought to this world, and those accountants shouldn't have died. I've tried to keep that balance, to take some of the red out of my ledger and make it mean something. I wasn't aware of the damage I did as a child, but I'm aware of it now. I'm responsible for it now."
"How are you responsible?"
"It was my op, my intel. Those lives are on my account."
Hel shook her head. "You are not versed in seidr, and you cannot see the patterns of fate. Those lives were doomed to arrive in my realm. They belong to me, as they were meant to. Your presence or absence would not have mattered. They would have come to rest here in final repose no matter your intervention."
Relief flooded through Natasha, washing away some of her guilt. "Oh," she murmured, exhaling. "I didn't cause their deaths."
"Indeed not."
Tension bled out of her. "So you won't let them go."
"No, darling Natasha. As many souls as you've given me, I will not give these to you."
"Because I haven't died?" she asked, curious.
"Oh, no," Hel replied, a genuine smile on her face. "I do not begrudge you the struggle to stay alive. You fought to remain alive and won. No, Natasha. I will not give them to you because they are mine. They were meant to be mine, so there is no bargain you can make for their lives."
Natasha sighed, feeling foolish. "Oh."
"I'm glad you don't wish for their lives as revenge against Loki. He is considered kin in this realm."
"There's no point in revenge. He was just a mission. I made a mistake and I'm trying to correct it." Natasha spoke plainly, seeing no need for subterfuge in this situation.
Hel seemed to appreciate that. "I see that." She smiled her genuine smile, relaxed and leaning back slightly in her throne. "His attack on your character was personal, you realize."
"He was just a job."
"You do realize that would make him terribly angry."
Natasha couldn't help but smile. "I suppose so."
"He's escaped my realm many times, but not through honest combat. By trickery he escaped here when he should have been mine."
There was steel in her voice, suppressed anger at his treachery. On that point, they seemed in complete agreement.
Contemplating Hel, Natasha looked at her. "Can you tell me why you appeared to me, then?"
Hel rose from her throne, an eerie smile on her face. "Natasha," she said in her ghostly, whispery voice. "You're mine. You don't belong to my realm, but you aid me, you feed me souls. Someday, when you die in due time, you will come to me and help rule the souls here." Her touch was cold, the touch of a long dead corpse against her skin. "I appeared to you because we are brethren. You may ask for a favor in my power to give you."
Natasha let out a breath slowly. "I'd like to wipe out some of the red in my ledger. I want to balance it out."
"And Loki?" Hel asked, head tilted to the side out of curiosity.
"I only care about him in the sense that if he destroyed my credibility with SHIELD, I can't bring any balance to my life. I don't want that."
Smiling widely at Natasha, Hel leaned in and kissed her forehead. "Child of my realm, you may have this. I give you my protection; the gifts of life and death are your own, and you don't need additional help there."
Her entire body felt warm and tingly. "So what does this mean on Midgard?"
Hel smiled. "None may kill you until I call you home. You might be injured or harmed, perhaps, but you will not die. Eventually you will heal from your wounds, likely faster than those not blessed by my protection."
"Like Steve Rogers? Captain America?"
"It was not a boon I granted him, but yes. It would work similar to the skill he possesses. This will allow you to balance the scales you tipped toward my realm."
"It doesn't trouble you that I won't die, then?"
"Natasha," Hel said merrily, looping an arm around her torso and pulling her close. "You will send many, many souls to me this way. Perhaps you may send my dissolute father home at last. Perhaps you will not. But in righting your perceived wrongs, my realm will grow. This pleases me, and I wish you greatness in this endeavor."
Before Natasha could say anything else, Hel kissed her on the mouth. The warm, tingly feeling flared to life, as if magic was burning its way through her from the inside out. The scars on her wrists and abdomen burned hotter, Hel's power destroying the hold Loki may have had on her. It grew even more intense, and Hel's arm around her was the only thing keeping Natasha on her feet. She couldn't breathe until the fire burned itself out, and dimly she realized Hel was breathing into her mouth as if performing some kind of magical CPR.
Cradling her like a child as the fire died out, Hel pressed her lips to Natasha's cheek. "Dear one. Go, with my blessings."
There was a flash of light, and Natasha was standing in her suite at Avengers Tower. The salt and herbs were gone, though their scent lingered. Checking her body, all of her myriad scars were gone, including those from Loki.
Well, now. Perhaps Natasha wasn't as bad off as she initially thought she was.
***
It was soothing to pilot the quinjet holding the assortment of SHIELD agents and Tony Stark in the back. He was showing off, as usual, but she could tune out his voice easily. The agents had requested his expertise in disabling the batch of AIM technology that they had secured, and he had insisted on Natasha flying them there. She appreciated the subtle vote of confidence from him. Steve Rogers hadn't been quite so subtle; he had simply taken her aside in the common room at Avengers Tower and held her in a tight hug. She had been able to respond to it, warmly returning the embrace and the sentiment he held for her. You're ours, his hug told her, and we never leave one of our own behind.
Clint had been right, of course. She hadn't been compromised the way she had feared she was. She may have been manipulated and duped, but her mind really was her own. With Loki's hold gone, Natasha's control over her actions was absolute once more.
"How long 'till we touch down?" Tony complained, leaning toward the cockpit. "I could've flown there faster on my own."
"Still can, if you feel like jumping out of the back," Natasha replied, a slight smile on her lips. "You know Steve does that all the time."
He snorted and rolled his eyes. "Yeah. And they call me a showboat."
"If the iron shoe fits..."
Tony laughed out loud. "It should. I made it myself." He turned to look past her, at the clouds and open expanse of sky. "It's peaceful up here."
"Yes, it is."
He took in her quiet appreciation for a moment, then stood up straight to head back to the other agents. "It's like meditation." Tony rolled his eyes again when Natasha actually jerked her head around to look at him incredulously. "Pepper makes me do it while she does her yoga. Hey, if I look at her getting bendy, it's meditation. Okay?"
"That sounds like you," Natasha replied with a smile, turning back around to look at where she was going.
"Sometimes the quiet is a good thing," Tony murmured after a few minutes of silence.
Natasha was startled by his hushed, honest tone. "Yes, it is. Too much noise all around, and it's hard to think. You can't process anything, and it all goes by too fast."
"You know, you surprise me."
She couldn't help but smile, even if she didn't turn around to look at him. "You surprise me, too, Stark. Who knew there was a philosophical side to you?"
Tony's chuckle was a little self deprecating. "Stick around long enough, I'm sure there will be all kinds of other things you discover."
The smile stayed on her face even after he went to sit down with the other agents in the back of the Quinjet. It was good to hear that she was still part of the Avengers team, too.
***
Natasha sat in her usual small office, breathing in the atmosphere. Her collections of files were still where she had left them, not even touched since her last visit there. She went through them, feeling as though she was staring at the dossiers with brand new eyes. Perhaps they were; she didn't know the extent of Hel's changes to her body, but her reflexes were still lightning fast and she could still ferret out the patterns of the opposition's spies.
Laying out all of the files on her desk, her eyes scanned the disparate data. Sometimes she was able to find new connections that way, letting her unconscious mind travel without clear direction. It sometimes was harder to substantiate to superiors without definitive proof, but usually she was able to find it once she knew what she should be looking for.
For months now, they had been looking for places where Clive Meissen had been, in order to try to plot out where he would go next.
What Natasha saw now was where he hadn't been, despite known AIM, Hydra or SHIELD activity. If he was an active player, he would have to be nearby to track their agents and respond in a timely manner.
"It's a question of knowing where to look," Natasha murmured, smiling gently.
Gathering up the files, she headed for Fury's office.
***
Geneva in summertime was warm and sunny, a gentle breeze blowing just enough to make it a pleasant day. Aside from the usual tourist attractions, financial district concerns and international organization headquarters, there was also a base of operations that SHIELD maintained with many experienced agents. Odds were good that some terrorist organization would target Geneva, after all, so it was generally held to be a good idea to maintain a presence, however low key, in order to fight the potential dangers.
In retrospect, Natasha was angry with herself for not thinking of Geneva sooner.
Hair dyed black, she arrived in Geneva Station with an assumed identity of a Level 6 agent. She worked her way through different areas of the building, not finding Meissen in the usual areas that a Level 6 agent would be permitted. While she hadn't really thought he would be hiding in plain sight that way, it would have been nice to have this go easy for a change.
Suppressing a sigh of irritation, Natasha took the false badge from the lapel of the suit jacket as she headed down a different corridor. Of course the guards attempted to stop her, but they were trained by the usual suspects. She didn't even break a sweat in taking them down, leaving them passed out for their superiors to find. Striding down the corridors, she headed to the sublevel that required at least Level 8 clearance.
Making a mental note to talk to the Station head about security measures, she bypassed the identifying panel and continued to check all of the hallways for Meissen. He had to be hiding here; it was too perfect a spot to pass up. He was playing all sides for fools, after all, and where else could he siphon off more data to sell to the highest bidder?
He looked up as she entered the office he was using, eyes wide. As Meissen rose, hand swinging up with a Walther PPK, Natasha pitched herself forward into a roll. The bullets whizzed over her head, and she was in front of him before he could correct his arm. Natasha hit him in the throat with a single sharp movement. As he struggled to breathe, his grip on the Walther was loosened and she easily took it from him as she shoved him back down in the chair. Pointing it at the center of his forehead, Natasha stared at him grimly. "The names of your clients, Meissen. Now."
"I tell you that, you kill me."
Natasha didn't break eye contact as she lowered the Walther enough to shoot him in the thigh. He cried out, jerking in the chair. "You would have had a full magazine. There are still four bullets left, and a number of nonvital organs. Your choice."
Meissen gulped, staring at her impassive face. For a moment, his face betrayed his fear and tension, but then it smoothed out. That was the only telegraphed warning she got before he tried to attack her.
It was close quarters combat and Meissen was desperate. He hadn't kept up his certifications the way he should have, so his moves were sloppy and easy for Natasha to counter. She shot him in the arm, taking no joy in his howl of pain as his bone splintered from the force of the bullet. Knocking him to the floor, she pushed her stiletto heel into his thigh wound, making him scream in pain. "Names, Meissen." Natasha turned her ankle slightly, twisting the heel into the wound a little farther.
Sobbing, Meissen started whispering some names. When he swore up and down that he was being honest, Natasha removed her foot and inclined her head sharply. Eyeing Meissen, she called Director Fury personally from the phone on the office desk. He closed his eyes and his entire body sagged against the floor as she spoke, reciting every name he had given her, as well as the probable source of his access codes to the Geneva Station.
"You've ruined everything," he said, defeated.
"Thank you for your cooperation," she intoned, keeping hold of the Walther. The corner of her lip quirked up into a smile. "There's a holding cell waiting for you. Director Fury would like to speak with you personally."
That was never a good sign, and Meissen shuddered.
***
It was inevitable that Natasha would see Loki again. He would want to see her and gloat over his presumed victory, his play rendering her role useless within SHIELD. He would want her to beg and grovel at his feet, pleading with him to allow her to get her job back.
If he really believed she would do any of that, he didn't know her as well as he presumed to.
Loki circled her on the observation deck of the helicarrier. "I did not expect to find you here," he began, a slight mocking twist to his lips. "And certainly not in that uniform."
Natasha lifted one eyebrow at him, and gestured with the file folder she was carrying. "Did you expect something different?"
"Shouldn't you be in a cell?"
"What for?" she asked, no inflection to her tone. "The deaths of those accountants occurred before we even arrived on the scene." She gestured to a nearby agent to take the folder from her and direct it to Sitwell. The agent looked at Loki, then hurried off in the opposite direction. "You saw to that, after all."
"Your precious innocents died. You didn't stop it."
"I didn't kill them. Agents here are fully aware of that and whose fault it truly was."
"They should not trust you!" Loki seethed, teeth grit and bared at her.
"The World Council doesn't, if that makes you feel better," Natasha told him mildly, her expression still serene and calm. That made Loki even angrier, and he clenched his fists at his sides. There was a slight halo around each fist, as if magic was building up. "Do you plan on hitting me?"
"You were beaten and cowed," Loki snarled. The flare around his fists grew a bit brighter, but Natasha stood her ground. That she didn't step back or flinch in the face of his wrath also made his temper flare.
"I appeared that way," she told him. For a while she did indeed feel beaten and used. Not cowed, exactly, because that wasn't her way. But he had seen through her far better than she had seen through him, and that had been humbling.
"You were!" he cried, swinging one of his fists toward her face.
Natasha caught his fist in her hands, and she could feel the scorching heat in her palms. Her flesh was burning, the smell acrid and nauseating. Still, she held her ground and could feel the skin healing even as it burned. She supposed it would look the way Steve's did as he fought.
Loki paused after a moment, the glow fading from his hands. "You are changed. You're something more than mortal now."
She shook her head. "I'm the same as I was before. You never understood. You were just a job, Loki." Natasha couldn't help but smile at his incredulous look. "What? I told you what I wanted in the beginning, just as you told me."
"You could not heal like this before."
"You never tried to burn me before."
Nonplused, he grasped her by the throat. "What would happen if I tried to choke you?"
Her reflexes had been fast before, enhanced by his magic. Now, it wasn't Loki's magic but her own, something Hel had given her as well as her healing ability. Natasha had one of Loki's own knives in her hand, and she sliced deeply into the wrist holding her. He hissed in pain and let go abruptly, his fingers dangling uselessly at his side.
"Hel would like to see you," Natasha said with a slight smile to her lips. "Shall we send you to her? I'm sure there's much the two of you need to discuss."
Loki's lips parted in something Natasha assumed was shock. "You can do no such thing."
"Oh, I couldn't conjure her on my own, no," she answered with that same slight smile. She shifted her grip on his knife and let her smile widen. "But there's always the old fashioned way, and she did ask me to send you home."
When she stabbed at his chest, the armor blocked the blade and caused it to shatter. Natasha opened her hand and shrugged, letting the hilt fall from her loose grasp to the floor. She hadn't brought any pistols with her, and she already knew the Widow's Bites and her custom blades wouldn't be able to harm him through his enchanted armor. "Oh well. I suppose that day is not today, then."
"You insignificant insect," Loki snarled, reaching for her. Natasha stepped gracefully out of the way, her smile wide and sure. "I had you at my mercy and begging for release."
She shrugged again, and then turned her back to Loki, as if he didn't matter. "Yeah, that was a good time. Still just a job. It didn't work out, but there will always be other missions." He howled in anger, but she stepped out of the way of his charge. He went sprawling when she spun away from his hasty lunge and kicked him away from her, and he glowered up at her from his undignified position. "You don't have anyone else to recognize you for what you are," she continued in the same careless tone. "Such a pity. There had been potential for more."
Natasha left without a backward glance. As far as she was concerned, her account with Loki was balanced, her ledger still creeping toward the black.
He would return, vicious and vengeful, plotting something convoluted. Perhaps she would be able to see through it, stopping him from whatever devastation he had planned. With her new healing ability, it was quite possible that Natasha's lifespan had just been exponentially lengthened. If that was so, hundreds of years could pass before Loki's ire calmed down. One day, there would be a reckoning. That day would not be today; he would likely retreat to his pocket universe and lick his wounds, plan what he could do to her in return for this.
Some days, everything worked out the way it needed to.
The End