Lick Your Wounds, 1/5. NC-17. Loki/Natasha.
Title: Lick Your Wounds
Series: #6 in Ready For The Siege
(#1 - Look Over Your Shoulder, #2 - Armed Up To The Teeth, #3 - Misery Inspires, #4 - Broken Underneath, #5 - Change Is Coming Soon)
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Loki/Natasha
Disclaimer: Not mine! Some comic backstory is incorporated into characterizations, but this is still primarily movieverse.
Spoilers/Warnings: Post-movie. Read the other stories before this one, because it does refer back to some events in them, especially #4 and #5.
Title and series title from "The Royal We" by Silversun Pickups
Summary: Loki is angry. However, he doesn't react in quite the way that anyone else had thought he would, least of all himself.
One - Unexpected Return
Loki burned with helpless rage, and his hideaway wasn't helping him anymore. He had held Natasha helpless in his hands in this very place, bound her with magic and fucked her senseless. Even so, she had held onto her core sense of self so tightly, and he hadn't truly dominated her soul the way he thought he had. Yet when she had held him at her mercy, he had melted into her whims. He had lost himself utterly, had wanted to please her so desperately, and gratefully accepted her care for him afterward. Loki had wanted to believe her touch meant something, that she didn't see him as an assignment from her superiors but could actually come to care for him. But it still burned him that he had lost control to a mortal, and with that realization had come a fiery rage that had startled even him. He hadn't meant to harm that pathetic human male, but he hadn't been in control of himself. Unsettled and full of aimless anger, Loki had lashed out at him instead of at Natasha. He hadn't wanted to harm her, however angry he had been with her, so he had picked up the threads of his discarded plan to humiliate and isolate her.
And still, he had failed. She wasn't alone. She wasn't afraid. She wasn't cowed and ready to call him master. If anything, she was stronger than before.
His hideaway carried too many memories of her, of when he had pressed himself into her supple body, when he had allowed himself, however short a time, to want and feel.
Loki cried out in rage, a burst of magic spreading from around him in a destructive sphere. His furs caught fire, but he had long ago spelled his books and scrolls safe from his temper. He howled, fists caught at his sides, and another burst of magic rolled out from his body.
Yet he could see her everywhere, still imagine her scent lingering in his domain.
The destruction only made Loki even more enraged. A mortal woman reduced him to this, and he was a god. She should fear him, not smile and call him a job. Loki might not be Aesir, but he was powerful and well versed in seidr. He had might and power like the mortals would never wield, and Natasha refused to see it.
Without meaning to, he appeared in her suite in Avengers Tower. His presence triggered an alarm, and the blaring sound disoriented him. He didn't know how he had arrived there, especially if the spells he had worked into Natasha's body were gone.
"I'll find you, Natasha," he had murmured long ago. It had been a quiet, intimate moment, a time he had tender thoughts toward her. "Wherever you are, I will find you. Perhaps I will help you save your innocent souls, perhaps not."
Which meant it wasn't a spell that bound them now, and that made Loki even angrier. It wasn't something he could control, a bond that he could limit or change at will. It was a loose thing between them, and while Natasha couldn't work the seidr, she had strength of will enough to affect it.
She was asleep in her bed when he arrived, a blanket tucked around her, red hair spilling across her pillow in a cascade of curls. As soon as the alarm sounded, her eyes snapped open and she rolled across the bed, away from the door. Her hand slid beneath the mattress in a practiced motion before she was even fully awake. She had her Glock 19 aimed at his chest by the time she was awake, and Loki had to admire that in spite of himself. He knew she was good at what she did, and he only held her off balance because of his inherent instability. Only the insane could predict him accurately, and that was one quality she certainly did not have. He didn't want to admire her, even if he did; that would only acknowledge that she could be a worthy adversary, and she was mortal. She should have been beneath him.
But that only made him recall having her beneath him, writhing and panting, his magic binding her, feeling her, winding her up to rapture. He wanted her fiercely, his mouth nearly watering at the sight of her, even though her sleepwear was a simple cotton T shirt and pants.
She didn't say anything, but her jaw wasn't clenched. It possibly was some time since he had burned her in his rage, losing control of his magic. He didn't know when or where in her timeline he had found her, and it pleased him that she was sleeping alone. Loki knew she was close to the Hawk, and he would have killed the archer if he had been sharing her bed.
"You don't seem surprised to see me," he observed.
"You said you'd be back. Of course you'd choose an inconvenient time."
Loki flexed his magic, locking her room against any intruders. He didn't know what he was going to do, but he didn't want to be interrupted while he figured it out.
"How is it inconvenient?" he purred, stepping forward.
There was no other safety on a Glock than the pressure on the trigger, so Loki had no clue she was going to shoot him until she did. The bullet lodged itself into his armor, and Loki was thrown back a few steps. He looked up at her smirk incredulously.
"This is very inconvenient," Natasha told him, voice neutral. "You can leave now."
"This isn't finished between us," Loki snarled, striding forward. Expecting it now, the other bullets were magically deflected before hitting him. He twitched his fingers, pulling the gun from her hands and tossing it aside negligently.
"Your plan didn't end the way you wanted it to. Don't pout, it isn't a very good look on you."
She didn't move when he vaulted over her bed and caught her in his arms. "I had you broken, little spider. You tried so hard, but still I bested you!"
"Why does it matter to you so much?" she asked, voice level. "I told you that you won. You simply didn't break me."
"Why didn't it?"
Loki managed not to cringe at the desperation lacing his voice, and he didn't shake her until her teeth rattled as much as he wanted to. Her expression didn't change, and he wanted so badly to make her feel something.
"You'd have to matter for it to affect me," she said, voice flat and emotionless. Loki reeled, fingers digging into her arms painfully enough to make her flinch. She was still mortal, after all, for all of Hel's gifts to her. "Loki," Natasha said in a warning tone.
His mouth crashed down over hers, tongue plundering her mouth viciously. She bit him, and her fisted hands struck his solar plexus sharply. Loki gasped in pain and staggered backward, stunned. "You hurt me!"
"What do you think you were doing to me?"
Loki wanted to shoot back that she was his, that he had molded and shaped her. He had bested her in combat, admittedly with magic, and he had woven spells into her body. But those spells were gone now, and he hadn't shaped her much, had he? She had broken him, and she didn't need him. This much was clear.
"You don't know what you're doing, do you?" she asked, and his face contorted in rage again. She didn't back down, which only made him even angrier.
He knocked her down to the bed, howling at her in anger, his magic creating a whirlwind around them. Loki held her arms down and pinned her legs with his own, wordlessly shouting at her. She had unmanned him, he burned with rage from it, and he was utterly lost.
Natasha squirmed beneath him, but Loki held her fast. "What will you do now, then?"
The whirlwind died down slightly. "You should fear me," Loki snapped, eyes flashing. "I could kill you for your insolence."
"There's no challenge in that for you."
Loki found himself grinding against her, remembering the feel of her wet heat around his cock. He burned with both shame and desire for her, the memory of her soft hands and voice making his blood boil. "You're so sure of yourself," he snarled, baring his teeth at her.
"You invaded my bedroom to shout at me," she pointed out.
Taking a breath, Loki calmed himself enough to ask "When did you last see me?"
"Four and a half months ago."
It had been only four hours for him. "Far less than that for me."
"So you're still angry that I'm not as alone as you are."
"You've said we're the same," he said through grit teeth.
"I made different choices along the way."
Her voice was neutral, as if it didn't matter what he thought of her at all. Loki raised one hand from hers, intending to draw back and strike her. In that moment, her hand snaked down to palm his erect cock through his breeches. Loki hissed at the contact, his fist faltering as a bolt of pleasure shot through him. He narrowed his eyes at her, but Natasha was unfazed by it, too busy watching him for minute expression changes.
"This means nothing to you, does it?" he asked, ashamed to hear the strain in his voice.
"Do you need it to?" she asked evenly.
Loki bared his teeth in a grimace, and she shimmied beneath him, loosening her other wrist from his grasp. He allowed it, curious to see what she would do. Natasha unlaced his breeches, and then the hand rubbing at his crotch slid inside. His breath froze as her hand closed over him, and he almost didn't care how closely she watched his expressions.
"Or is it just disappointment?" she asked quietly. "You wanted me alone, dependent on your good will, at your mercy. You could feel like a god, as if you held me at your whims. You could dominate me, own me, make me do whatever you wanted."
Loki's lips parted almost of their own volition as he stared down at her. Yes, he had wanted that. He had craved it, had thought it possible. But she had shattered that illusion with the easy way she bent him to her whim, breaking him down to nothing.
And the most terrible part of it was, he had thoroughly enjoyed it at the time, wanting even more from her. What kind of god did that?
"It is, isn't it?" Natasha asked, her palm sliding over the head of his cock, precome making the motion easy. He made a harsh, noncommittal grunt in reply, but her lip twitched as if he had spoken. "I've had time to think on this."
Some distant part of him sang at the admission. He preoccupied her thoughts, and she had to apply her reasoning skills to understanding him. She spent time thinking about him; she wasn't as unaffected by him as she wanted him to think.
Shifting his weight to one hand, Loki let his other skim over her clothed torso. He palmed her breast, watching her reaction to his touch. He knew enough of her body by now to catch the slight hitch in her breathing and the dilation of her pupils. She did enjoy her time in his bed, and had never denied that. Natasha only denied any dependence on him, any truth to his wish that he had shattered her.
Her self had been hard won, he recalled. Of course she would guard it so carefully.
He shifted his hips toward her hand slightly, rubbing his thumb over her peaked nipple. They stared at each other intently as he teased her breast and she stroked his cock. Loki's breathing was ragged as he watched her, not sure what his motives were for allowing this to happen. He wasn't sure what her motives were for doing it, either. There was nothing in her expression to give him a clue, but he was sure the pleasure he took in her ministrations was obvious. She made no comforting noises, no nonsense sayings meant to soothe. He wanted to hear her whisper that she had him, she would keep him safe, she would watch over him; it made no sense, none, but he wanted it as much as he wanted her will bent to his.
Almost without warning, he spilled over her fist, spurts of his seed falling to her sleep shirt and the opened edges of his breeches. Loki let out a hiss of breath when he came, hips jerking slightly against her hand. He stared at her intently in that moment, knowing he had her aroused but nowhere near completion.
"And what of your wants, dear spider?" he purred, pleased that he sounded something like his usual self.
"Would you let me kill you so easily?" she asked, eyebrow raised.
Loki leaned in so that her hands were trapped between their bodies, his lips hovering just above hers. "You won't kill me, Natasha. Not when I'm the only one that can occupy your thoughts this way. No one else presents quite the challenge for you."
He shifted off her and off the bed, but she didn't move other than to turn her head to watch him. It amused him that she didn't deny his statement. "Another time, perhaps," he said, inclining his head politely. As if he hadn't spilled his seed on top of her, as if he wasn't still undone and open to her view, as if her comrades weren't likely trying to break through his wards. Loki allowed a ghost of a smile to grace his lips. He had no plan in place, but she didn't know that. Let her worry and wonder, her mind spinning uselessly as she tried to puzzle him out. Cold comfort for him, but comfort nonetheless. He needed to collect his thoughts.
Stepping back, he opened a portal behind him. Natasha rose to a sitting position, watching his expression closely. Loki resisted the urge to throw out another parting shot, and disappeared back into his hiding place. Somehow, it didn't seem to be as oppressive and hollow any longer. Now it seemed like home again, a place where he could try to plan something.
Natasha was expecting it, and he didn't want to disappoint.
***
Natasha changed into a new sleep shirt and washed her hands before moving toward the door, wondering why no one had entered despite JARVIS' alert. As soon as she touched her doorknob, she felt the tingly static of Loki's magic, and it all made sense. Her door crashed inward, and there was Clint and Steve, and behind them was Bruce and Tony, arguing over the schematics loaded on the Starkpad in Tony's hand. The noise stopped abruptly when her door opened, and they all gaped at her. "You're alive," Clint said, obviously relieved. "JARVIS sounded the alert when Loki showed up, but all sensors and access points were blocked. I assume it was a spell of some kind?"
"Yes," she affirmed with a nod. "He was still angry that I wasn't a broken wreck." She certainly wasn't about to tell them that jerking him off seemed to take the edge off his anger; that was private, and seemed to confirm the thoughts that Loki had no idea how to approach others if not in a dominant position.
"Is he still on that?" Steve asked, frowning. "Does that mean we have to brace ourselves for some kind of magic war?"
About to ask what he meant by that, Natasha followed Steve's gaze. Her room was a wreck, bullet holes and items strewn all around the room. She hadn't really paid attention when she changed shirts and washed her hands, but it did look terrible. "At least I don't have too many things to break," she said, meaning to be flip enough to put their minds at ease.
It didn't work. Bruce looked even more concerned, possibly because he understood the implication after traveling for so long. People who did that traveled light, and possessions carried that much more value. He understood that the items in her suite were incredibly personal and valuable to her. "So he knew how to get to you."
"Actually, it was completely accidental. He created a whirlwind in the room," Natasha informed them, voice neutral.
"A whirlwind?" Tony echoed, eyes getting large. "As much as I can pat myself on the back for the structural integrity of my tower, how the fuck did JARVIS not pick that up?"
"Sir," the AI said, a vaguely disapproving tone to its voice, "all sensory data was blocked soon after Loki's arrival."
"Magic," Clint echoed, voice carefully blank. Natasha knew it meant he was upset, frightened for her safety and what Loki's interest might mean.
"As much as it might surprise you, I think he was just having a temper tantrum." All of the men around her looked to her for clarification, which just made her sigh and repress an eye roll. They were all fairly intelligent, though emotionally constipated. "When he made his portal to leave, I saw his hideaway. It had just as much damage as my room does. So he was angry, broke his things, came here and broke mine."
Steve blinked a little, digesting that. "Then what made him leave?"
Clint watched Natasha's expression carefully as she replied "I told him it was a bad time."
"And he listened to you?" Tony scoffed before looking back at his Starkpad. "No residual magic traces that JARVIS can pick up. Thanks, buddy."
"You're welcome, sir," the AI said, sounding much less huffy.
That almost made Natasha smile. "He hasn't figured me out yet."
Tony snorted. "As if he ever could. You're like, the ultimate super spy over there."
"He likes you," Bruce said suddenly. That made Natasha's estimation of his emotional recognition rise a few notches. "He's acting the way a third grader does," he clarified for Tony, whose brows had furrowed in confusion. "You know, the whole pigtail pulling thing that boys do to girls that they like. If he ignored her, it would mean he hated her or was indifferent." He looked back at Natasha and made an apologetic shrug.
"Makes sense," Clint said slowly. He definitely didn't look happy with that assessment, so Natasha knew she would have to do some kind of damage control.
"Or he just wants to make it seem that way," Steve said. He looked to Natasha apologetically. "No offense, but I can't believe we'd be able to tell what he wants that easily."
Natasha smiled fondly at him so that Steve would know she wasn't offended by the remark. "It's likely something all of the above. Why not have some kind of affection and a dozen different half baked plots going on?"
"He's arrogant," Tony agreed. "He wants to be seen as a God. I mean, that was the whole reason why Pirate Fury wanted you to reel him in, before he does any more damage. I'm glad Thor's not here, he'd see this and it would break his puppy dog heart."
Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation and Steve turned to Tony with an incredulous look on his face. "Are you trying to be that insensitive?"
Sighing loudly and pointedly, Natasha gave each a level look in turn. "Thank you for coming, but I've got some cleaning to do and then some rest to get. I'm sure Tony will look into configuring some kind of magic radar or firewall or something to that effect." He visibly brightened at the idea and started poking at his Starkpad. Really, he was too easy to manipulate. Bruce nodded at her and started heading toward his own living space. Steve needed a little more reassurance before he left the area as well.
Clint was leaning against her wall, arms crossed over his chest. "So. Godly shit fit of epic proportions, huh?"
"He wasn't exactly pleased to see me when he arrived. He still wants to know why I'm not broken and alone."
"Like him."
"Yes."
Shaking his head, Clint headed into her room to help sort through her belongings and put them in the right place. "Bruce has a point."
"I'm not disagreeing with you," Natasha replied, working with him to upright the armchair that usually sat in the corner of her bedroom.
"So what are you going to do about it?" Clint asked quietly, not meeting her eyes as he picked up the clothes on the floor and dumped them back into her hamper. "He wanted to isolate you and has feelings for you. In anyone else," he said, looking back up at her, "that would be a goldmine."
"Still is, potentially."
"Fury isn't pushing for having him join SHIELD."
"I'm still his Loki expert, for better or for worse." Natasha shrugged at his intent look in her direction. "Loki's vulnerable. Lost. He has no idea what the hell he's doing. Isn't it better for him to focus on me and have me potentially turn his purpose, than to let him loose upon the universe?"
"You are not Loki's babysitter."
Natasha thought of the way he had tensed when she palmed him, the look on his face that was at once desire and shame. He wanted her, certainly, but there was his pride to consider. He was the very epitome of the phrase "cut your nose off to spite your face," as he had done so many times with his family. Loki would never come to her unless he thought a manipulation was involved somehow, or he could gain something from the connection. She just had to find the right hook that would keep him coming back and keep his violent streak curbed.
"I know," she told Clint softly. "Just as you're not mine."
Clint bristled. "Tasha…"
"It's not an unkindness, Clint, you know that. What was I like when you first brought me in? Do you even remember?" He pressed his lips tightly together, refusing to answer her. "He's the same way, you know. At loose ends, ready to self destruct."
"You're too fucking calm about this."
"I see him for what he is now. No illusions left to shatter."
"You don't think there are," Clint challenged.
"Could be," she acknowledged. "But I saw him here for what he was, and what he wanted."
"Which is?"
"Me, any way he can get me." Before Clint could protest, she placed a calming hand on his chest. "You know I fucked him."
Uncomfortable, Clint nodded. "You mentioned that, yeah."
"I fucked him, and I fucked him. And I fucked with him. He'd said, from the very beginning, that no one else had ever been able to sneak past him. No one else had been able to get the drop on him, manipulate him."
"And so he got his revenge."
"Except he didn't," Natasha told him. "I'm not alone. I'm not an outcast. I'm still trusted." Her lips quirked in amusement. "Not by the Council, but we're not counting them."
"Hell no," Clint returned with an answering smile.
"So he has no idea what the hell to do now. I was his plan all along, and it didn't work." She could see the understanding dawn in Clint's eyes. "He doesn't know what he wants, but he knows that somehow, I'm key to it. All I have to do is guide him in the right direction."
"And if he won't let you?"
Natasha gave him a sensual, secretive smile. "I know how to get to him. He'll let me."
Clint sighed. "Your op, then?" She nodded. "All right. Call me in if you need to."
She gave him a hug, which drained the tension from him. She did such moves so rarely, and they counted for so much. "Why do you think I'm telling you this? No flying in there without backup if I can help it."
She just hoped she was telling him the truth.
***
Natasha stopped short when she left her bedroom for the sitting area of her suite. Hel stood there, staring at the rather bland landscape Tony had put into the room soon after she moved in. He had declared her space too empty and impersonal, and thought a massive landscape photo would give the room more character. Determined not to let anything go to waste, she hid two blades in the frame and rearranged her furniture so that it was a focal point of the room. Clint knew the blades were there, and had given her a lopsided smile and eye roll at her unrelenting need to be prepared for all contingencies. He likely wasn't laughing now that Loki had arrived.
"Lady Hel," Natasha said, aware she was still in her sleep clothes. The goddess was standing tall and regal, her hair loose and falling down in cascade down her back. The gown was as black as her hair, shot with silver runes that seemed to shift and shimmer with every breath. It had long sleeves, falling to her wrists, the neckline was a wide scoop across the front and an impossibly low dip to the small of her back. It skimmed her figure closely, and Natasha thought it rather resembled one of the evening gowns she had worn on an op months ago.
Hel turned, smiling warmly at her. "Natasha," she said, turning to look at her casual attire. Her voice was the whisper of dust across grave stones, yet it carried across the distance between them. "I see you are well. My gift agrees with you."
"It seems to, yes. Painful, but you hadn't promised me anything about that."
Inclining her head slightly, Hel approached. "No, I had not. Should I have?"
Natasha paused. "Is it time to collect me?" she asked quietly. The idea discomfited her; while she wasn't opposed to the idea of death, she wasn't ready now.
The surprise on her face was nothing more than a slow blink of her eyes, as if she wasn't entirely sure how to respond. "No," Hel said finally. "I had wished to speak to you of other things."
"Other things," Natasha echoed. The only things they had in common were death and Loki, and either one was likely to be a topic she would not want to discuss.
"Loki," Hel said with a nod. She gestured widely for the sofa. "Sit beside me, dear. We have much to speak of."
"He was here," Natasha said, moving to sit beside her.
"Yes. And he will be again." Hel said primly, her back effortlessly straight. She was out of place in this suite, but carried her same regal air as if they were in Helheim. When Natasha sat, Hel handed over a crystalline bottle inscribed with a number of runes. It was filled with some kind of clear yellow liquid, just viscous enough not to slosh when it appeared out of nowhere. "You should have this. Work it into his blood, then he will truly be able to see."
"What is it?"
"You spoke to me of balance. Ledgers and accounting, yes?" Natasha nodded, and Hel's lips stretched into a smile. "Loki cannot conceive of such a notion as you have. He balances slights with elaborate plots for revenge."
"I've noticed," Natasha replied dryly.
"This will allow him to see as you do. To be able to comprehend the ledger system you speak of. No more, no less. Then he may choose to do as he sees fit."
"What kind of harm would this do to him?" Natasha asked suspiciously, picking up the bottle to inspect its contents. At Hel's nod of encouragement, she lifted the stopper and inhaled the aromatic scent of essential oils she could not name.
"What harm does your ledger give you?" Hel asked in return, eyebrow raised.
Point. Natasha nodded slightly, and put the stopper back on. "There is still no guarantee he'll even be back," she said, though she knew the words were hollow. She had felt his anger and desperation mixed together. He wanted to know why he hadn't been able to break her, why his plan hadn't worked the way he wanted it to.
Hel laughed. "Oh, I know Loki enough to know that he cannot resist a puzzle he shouldn't pull apart. You are fascinating for him. He doesn't understand you. He cannot, and it drives him mad. Such things draw him closer in spite of himself."
"You know him very well."
"I've seen the images that the dead see," Hel replied with a smile. "So I've seen many things."
"You haven't met him," Natasha guessed. She doubted Hel would be so calm if she had seen Loki's wrath up close and personal.
"I've never met him in his world, and he seeks to avoid mine. It was a bargain struck long ago with my mother, and the magic of my mother and his mother allowed me to live. I was born dead, truly dead, and their intervention was necessary to assume rule. In other words, I am magic, and on some level, like calls to like." She reached out and touched Natasha's arm fondly. "You are strong in ways he cannot be. He doesn't comprehend this, but you do. Your world does not revolve around him, as mine does not. It drives him mad."
"And you want me to make him even more insane?"
Hel shook her head. "No need for that. His own flaws do the work for you. No, Natasha, I don't ask for that. Be yourself. You will either change him or break him. Either way, he cannot continue as he is, or he will drive himself to my realm after all."
"What was the bargain he struck with your mother?" Natasha asked, frowning. It suddenly seemed important. Why would Hel at once want him in her realm and not want him there?
"To learn the secret ways of Yggdrasil. It allows him to move through realms according to his whim. He might arrive at my realm, but he wouldn't stay there for long. The ways to leave it are dangerous, and the rage he would visit on other realms would be great." She patted Natasha's arm. "I may appreciate the entrants to my realm, but it doesn't mean I wish other realms be decimated to populate it."
That made sense, so Natasha nodded. "I can see that. Uncontrolled population growth leads to chaos and destruction."
"You are practical," Hel commented, rising.
"I suppose. No point in weeping for things that cannot be changed."
"That's what I mean," Hel said with a smile.
"Is this helpful?"
"For this endeavor? Of course. It's only by being practical that you can have any headway at all. For someone who claims to be so superior to the rest of us, he is largely ruled by emotion. He's not very rational at all."
"That makes him unpredictable."
"Perhaps," Hel replied with a slight shrug of her elegant shoulders. A shimmering portal into Helheim opened behind her. "But behind the unpredictability lies a very predictable and dare I say very human response pattern. You can deal with him. I've been looking into your history with the seers since you left my realm." Her eyes glittered like faraway stars. "You are more than a match for Loki, Natasha. And better yet, I think you'll win this battle of wills. After all, you've had more practice at control and practicality."
Natasha stayed seated as Hel left. She closed her hand around the crystal vial of essential oils and pondered Hel's confidence in her skills. She had come a long way since her initial uncertainty around Loki. She used to fear instability. Now it seemed as though she was capable of finding the predictable within the unpredictable.
Hm. Something to think about, then.
***
***
To Chapter Two - Striking A Bargain
Series: #6 in Ready For The Siege
(#1 - Look Over Your Shoulder, #2 - Armed Up To The Teeth, #3 - Misery Inspires, #4 - Broken Underneath, #5 - Change Is Coming Soon)
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Loki/Natasha
Disclaimer: Not mine! Some comic backstory is incorporated into characterizations, but this is still primarily movieverse.
Spoilers/Warnings: Post-movie. Read the other stories before this one, because it does refer back to some events in them, especially #4 and #5.
Title and series title from "The Royal We" by Silversun Pickups
Summary: Loki is angry. However, he doesn't react in quite the way that anyone else had thought he would, least of all himself.
One - Unexpected Return
Loki burned with helpless rage, and his hideaway wasn't helping him anymore. He had held Natasha helpless in his hands in this very place, bound her with magic and fucked her senseless. Even so, she had held onto her core sense of self so tightly, and he hadn't truly dominated her soul the way he thought he had. Yet when she had held him at her mercy, he had melted into her whims. He had lost himself utterly, had wanted to please her so desperately, and gratefully accepted her care for him afterward. Loki had wanted to believe her touch meant something, that she didn't see him as an assignment from her superiors but could actually come to care for him. But it still burned him that he had lost control to a mortal, and with that realization had come a fiery rage that had startled even him. He hadn't meant to harm that pathetic human male, but he hadn't been in control of himself. Unsettled and full of aimless anger, Loki had lashed out at him instead of at Natasha. He hadn't wanted to harm her, however angry he had been with her, so he had picked up the threads of his discarded plan to humiliate and isolate her.
And still, he had failed. She wasn't alone. She wasn't afraid. She wasn't cowed and ready to call him master. If anything, she was stronger than before.
His hideaway carried too many memories of her, of when he had pressed himself into her supple body, when he had allowed himself, however short a time, to want and feel.
Loki cried out in rage, a burst of magic spreading from around him in a destructive sphere. His furs caught fire, but he had long ago spelled his books and scrolls safe from his temper. He howled, fists caught at his sides, and another burst of magic rolled out from his body.
Yet he could see her everywhere, still imagine her scent lingering in his domain.
The destruction only made Loki even more enraged. A mortal woman reduced him to this, and he was a god. She should fear him, not smile and call him a job. Loki might not be Aesir, but he was powerful and well versed in seidr. He had might and power like the mortals would never wield, and Natasha refused to see it.
Without meaning to, he appeared in her suite in Avengers Tower. His presence triggered an alarm, and the blaring sound disoriented him. He didn't know how he had arrived there, especially if the spells he had worked into Natasha's body were gone.
"I'll find you, Natasha," he had murmured long ago. It had been a quiet, intimate moment, a time he had tender thoughts toward her. "Wherever you are, I will find you. Perhaps I will help you save your innocent souls, perhaps not."
Which meant it wasn't a spell that bound them now, and that made Loki even angrier. It wasn't something he could control, a bond that he could limit or change at will. It was a loose thing between them, and while Natasha couldn't work the seidr, she had strength of will enough to affect it.
She was asleep in her bed when he arrived, a blanket tucked around her, red hair spilling across her pillow in a cascade of curls. As soon as the alarm sounded, her eyes snapped open and she rolled across the bed, away from the door. Her hand slid beneath the mattress in a practiced motion before she was even fully awake. She had her Glock 19 aimed at his chest by the time she was awake, and Loki had to admire that in spite of himself. He knew she was good at what she did, and he only held her off balance because of his inherent instability. Only the insane could predict him accurately, and that was one quality she certainly did not have. He didn't want to admire her, even if he did; that would only acknowledge that she could be a worthy adversary, and she was mortal. She should have been beneath him.
But that only made him recall having her beneath him, writhing and panting, his magic binding her, feeling her, winding her up to rapture. He wanted her fiercely, his mouth nearly watering at the sight of her, even though her sleepwear was a simple cotton T shirt and pants.
She didn't say anything, but her jaw wasn't clenched. It possibly was some time since he had burned her in his rage, losing control of his magic. He didn't know when or where in her timeline he had found her, and it pleased him that she was sleeping alone. Loki knew she was close to the Hawk, and he would have killed the archer if he had been sharing her bed.
"You don't seem surprised to see me," he observed.
"You said you'd be back. Of course you'd choose an inconvenient time."
Loki flexed his magic, locking her room against any intruders. He didn't know what he was going to do, but he didn't want to be interrupted while he figured it out.
"How is it inconvenient?" he purred, stepping forward.
There was no other safety on a Glock than the pressure on the trigger, so Loki had no clue she was going to shoot him until she did. The bullet lodged itself into his armor, and Loki was thrown back a few steps. He looked up at her smirk incredulously.
"This is very inconvenient," Natasha told him, voice neutral. "You can leave now."
"This isn't finished between us," Loki snarled, striding forward. Expecting it now, the other bullets were magically deflected before hitting him. He twitched his fingers, pulling the gun from her hands and tossing it aside negligently.
"Your plan didn't end the way you wanted it to. Don't pout, it isn't a very good look on you."
She didn't move when he vaulted over her bed and caught her in his arms. "I had you broken, little spider. You tried so hard, but still I bested you!"
"Why does it matter to you so much?" she asked, voice level. "I told you that you won. You simply didn't break me."
"Why didn't it?"
Loki managed not to cringe at the desperation lacing his voice, and he didn't shake her until her teeth rattled as much as he wanted to. Her expression didn't change, and he wanted so badly to make her feel something.
"You'd have to matter for it to affect me," she said, voice flat and emotionless. Loki reeled, fingers digging into her arms painfully enough to make her flinch. She was still mortal, after all, for all of Hel's gifts to her. "Loki," Natasha said in a warning tone.
His mouth crashed down over hers, tongue plundering her mouth viciously. She bit him, and her fisted hands struck his solar plexus sharply. Loki gasped in pain and staggered backward, stunned. "You hurt me!"
"What do you think you were doing to me?"
Loki wanted to shoot back that she was his, that he had molded and shaped her. He had bested her in combat, admittedly with magic, and he had woven spells into her body. But those spells were gone now, and he hadn't shaped her much, had he? She had broken him, and she didn't need him. This much was clear.
"You don't know what you're doing, do you?" she asked, and his face contorted in rage again. She didn't back down, which only made him even angrier.
He knocked her down to the bed, howling at her in anger, his magic creating a whirlwind around them. Loki held her arms down and pinned her legs with his own, wordlessly shouting at her. She had unmanned him, he burned with rage from it, and he was utterly lost.
Natasha squirmed beneath him, but Loki held her fast. "What will you do now, then?"
The whirlwind died down slightly. "You should fear me," Loki snapped, eyes flashing. "I could kill you for your insolence."
"There's no challenge in that for you."
Loki found himself grinding against her, remembering the feel of her wet heat around his cock. He burned with both shame and desire for her, the memory of her soft hands and voice making his blood boil. "You're so sure of yourself," he snarled, baring his teeth at her.
"You invaded my bedroom to shout at me," she pointed out.
Taking a breath, Loki calmed himself enough to ask "When did you last see me?"
"Four and a half months ago."
It had been only four hours for him. "Far less than that for me."
"So you're still angry that I'm not as alone as you are."
"You've said we're the same," he said through grit teeth.
"I made different choices along the way."
Her voice was neutral, as if it didn't matter what he thought of her at all. Loki raised one hand from hers, intending to draw back and strike her. In that moment, her hand snaked down to palm his erect cock through his breeches. Loki hissed at the contact, his fist faltering as a bolt of pleasure shot through him. He narrowed his eyes at her, but Natasha was unfazed by it, too busy watching him for minute expression changes.
"This means nothing to you, does it?" he asked, ashamed to hear the strain in his voice.
"Do you need it to?" she asked evenly.
Loki bared his teeth in a grimace, and she shimmied beneath him, loosening her other wrist from his grasp. He allowed it, curious to see what she would do. Natasha unlaced his breeches, and then the hand rubbing at his crotch slid inside. His breath froze as her hand closed over him, and he almost didn't care how closely she watched his expressions.
"Or is it just disappointment?" she asked quietly. "You wanted me alone, dependent on your good will, at your mercy. You could feel like a god, as if you held me at your whims. You could dominate me, own me, make me do whatever you wanted."
Loki's lips parted almost of their own volition as he stared down at her. Yes, he had wanted that. He had craved it, had thought it possible. But she had shattered that illusion with the easy way she bent him to her whim, breaking him down to nothing.
And the most terrible part of it was, he had thoroughly enjoyed it at the time, wanting even more from her. What kind of god did that?
"It is, isn't it?" Natasha asked, her palm sliding over the head of his cock, precome making the motion easy. He made a harsh, noncommittal grunt in reply, but her lip twitched as if he had spoken. "I've had time to think on this."
Some distant part of him sang at the admission. He preoccupied her thoughts, and she had to apply her reasoning skills to understanding him. She spent time thinking about him; she wasn't as unaffected by him as she wanted him to think.
Shifting his weight to one hand, Loki let his other skim over her clothed torso. He palmed her breast, watching her reaction to his touch. He knew enough of her body by now to catch the slight hitch in her breathing and the dilation of her pupils. She did enjoy her time in his bed, and had never denied that. Natasha only denied any dependence on him, any truth to his wish that he had shattered her.
Her self had been hard won, he recalled. Of course she would guard it so carefully.
He shifted his hips toward her hand slightly, rubbing his thumb over her peaked nipple. They stared at each other intently as he teased her breast and she stroked his cock. Loki's breathing was ragged as he watched her, not sure what his motives were for allowing this to happen. He wasn't sure what her motives were for doing it, either. There was nothing in her expression to give him a clue, but he was sure the pleasure he took in her ministrations was obvious. She made no comforting noises, no nonsense sayings meant to soothe. He wanted to hear her whisper that she had him, she would keep him safe, she would watch over him; it made no sense, none, but he wanted it as much as he wanted her will bent to his.
Almost without warning, he spilled over her fist, spurts of his seed falling to her sleep shirt and the opened edges of his breeches. Loki let out a hiss of breath when he came, hips jerking slightly against her hand. He stared at her intently in that moment, knowing he had her aroused but nowhere near completion.
"And what of your wants, dear spider?" he purred, pleased that he sounded something like his usual self.
"Would you let me kill you so easily?" she asked, eyebrow raised.
Loki leaned in so that her hands were trapped between their bodies, his lips hovering just above hers. "You won't kill me, Natasha. Not when I'm the only one that can occupy your thoughts this way. No one else presents quite the challenge for you."
He shifted off her and off the bed, but she didn't move other than to turn her head to watch him. It amused him that she didn't deny his statement. "Another time, perhaps," he said, inclining his head politely. As if he hadn't spilled his seed on top of her, as if he wasn't still undone and open to her view, as if her comrades weren't likely trying to break through his wards. Loki allowed a ghost of a smile to grace his lips. He had no plan in place, but she didn't know that. Let her worry and wonder, her mind spinning uselessly as she tried to puzzle him out. Cold comfort for him, but comfort nonetheless. He needed to collect his thoughts.
Stepping back, he opened a portal behind him. Natasha rose to a sitting position, watching his expression closely. Loki resisted the urge to throw out another parting shot, and disappeared back into his hiding place. Somehow, it didn't seem to be as oppressive and hollow any longer. Now it seemed like home again, a place where he could try to plan something.
Natasha was expecting it, and he didn't want to disappoint.
***
Natasha changed into a new sleep shirt and washed her hands before moving toward the door, wondering why no one had entered despite JARVIS' alert. As soon as she touched her doorknob, she felt the tingly static of Loki's magic, and it all made sense. Her door crashed inward, and there was Clint and Steve, and behind them was Bruce and Tony, arguing over the schematics loaded on the Starkpad in Tony's hand. The noise stopped abruptly when her door opened, and they all gaped at her. "You're alive," Clint said, obviously relieved. "JARVIS sounded the alert when Loki showed up, but all sensors and access points were blocked. I assume it was a spell of some kind?"
"Yes," she affirmed with a nod. "He was still angry that I wasn't a broken wreck." She certainly wasn't about to tell them that jerking him off seemed to take the edge off his anger; that was private, and seemed to confirm the thoughts that Loki had no idea how to approach others if not in a dominant position.
"Is he still on that?" Steve asked, frowning. "Does that mean we have to brace ourselves for some kind of magic war?"
About to ask what he meant by that, Natasha followed Steve's gaze. Her room was a wreck, bullet holes and items strewn all around the room. She hadn't really paid attention when she changed shirts and washed her hands, but it did look terrible. "At least I don't have too many things to break," she said, meaning to be flip enough to put their minds at ease.
It didn't work. Bruce looked even more concerned, possibly because he understood the implication after traveling for so long. People who did that traveled light, and possessions carried that much more value. He understood that the items in her suite were incredibly personal and valuable to her. "So he knew how to get to you."
"Actually, it was completely accidental. He created a whirlwind in the room," Natasha informed them, voice neutral.
"A whirlwind?" Tony echoed, eyes getting large. "As much as I can pat myself on the back for the structural integrity of my tower, how the fuck did JARVIS not pick that up?"
"Sir," the AI said, a vaguely disapproving tone to its voice, "all sensory data was blocked soon after Loki's arrival."
"Magic," Clint echoed, voice carefully blank. Natasha knew it meant he was upset, frightened for her safety and what Loki's interest might mean.
"As much as it might surprise you, I think he was just having a temper tantrum." All of the men around her looked to her for clarification, which just made her sigh and repress an eye roll. They were all fairly intelligent, though emotionally constipated. "When he made his portal to leave, I saw his hideaway. It had just as much damage as my room does. So he was angry, broke his things, came here and broke mine."
Steve blinked a little, digesting that. "Then what made him leave?"
Clint watched Natasha's expression carefully as she replied "I told him it was a bad time."
"And he listened to you?" Tony scoffed before looking back at his Starkpad. "No residual magic traces that JARVIS can pick up. Thanks, buddy."
"You're welcome, sir," the AI said, sounding much less huffy.
That almost made Natasha smile. "He hasn't figured me out yet."
Tony snorted. "As if he ever could. You're like, the ultimate super spy over there."
"He likes you," Bruce said suddenly. That made Natasha's estimation of his emotional recognition rise a few notches. "He's acting the way a third grader does," he clarified for Tony, whose brows had furrowed in confusion. "You know, the whole pigtail pulling thing that boys do to girls that they like. If he ignored her, it would mean he hated her or was indifferent." He looked back at Natasha and made an apologetic shrug.
"Makes sense," Clint said slowly. He definitely didn't look happy with that assessment, so Natasha knew she would have to do some kind of damage control.
"Or he just wants to make it seem that way," Steve said. He looked to Natasha apologetically. "No offense, but I can't believe we'd be able to tell what he wants that easily."
Natasha smiled fondly at him so that Steve would know she wasn't offended by the remark. "It's likely something all of the above. Why not have some kind of affection and a dozen different half baked plots going on?"
"He's arrogant," Tony agreed. "He wants to be seen as a God. I mean, that was the whole reason why Pirate Fury wanted you to reel him in, before he does any more damage. I'm glad Thor's not here, he'd see this and it would break his puppy dog heart."
Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation and Steve turned to Tony with an incredulous look on his face. "Are you trying to be that insensitive?"
Sighing loudly and pointedly, Natasha gave each a level look in turn. "Thank you for coming, but I've got some cleaning to do and then some rest to get. I'm sure Tony will look into configuring some kind of magic radar or firewall or something to that effect." He visibly brightened at the idea and started poking at his Starkpad. Really, he was too easy to manipulate. Bruce nodded at her and started heading toward his own living space. Steve needed a little more reassurance before he left the area as well.
Clint was leaning against her wall, arms crossed over his chest. "So. Godly shit fit of epic proportions, huh?"
"He wasn't exactly pleased to see me when he arrived. He still wants to know why I'm not broken and alone."
"Like him."
"Yes."
Shaking his head, Clint headed into her room to help sort through her belongings and put them in the right place. "Bruce has a point."
"I'm not disagreeing with you," Natasha replied, working with him to upright the armchair that usually sat in the corner of her bedroom.
"So what are you going to do about it?" Clint asked quietly, not meeting her eyes as he picked up the clothes on the floor and dumped them back into her hamper. "He wanted to isolate you and has feelings for you. In anyone else," he said, looking back up at her, "that would be a goldmine."
"Still is, potentially."
"Fury isn't pushing for having him join SHIELD."
"I'm still his Loki expert, for better or for worse." Natasha shrugged at his intent look in her direction. "Loki's vulnerable. Lost. He has no idea what the hell he's doing. Isn't it better for him to focus on me and have me potentially turn his purpose, than to let him loose upon the universe?"
"You are not Loki's babysitter."
Natasha thought of the way he had tensed when she palmed him, the look on his face that was at once desire and shame. He wanted her, certainly, but there was his pride to consider. He was the very epitome of the phrase "cut your nose off to spite your face," as he had done so many times with his family. Loki would never come to her unless he thought a manipulation was involved somehow, or he could gain something from the connection. She just had to find the right hook that would keep him coming back and keep his violent streak curbed.
"I know," she told Clint softly. "Just as you're not mine."
Clint bristled. "Tasha…"
"It's not an unkindness, Clint, you know that. What was I like when you first brought me in? Do you even remember?" He pressed his lips tightly together, refusing to answer her. "He's the same way, you know. At loose ends, ready to self destruct."
"You're too fucking calm about this."
"I see him for what he is now. No illusions left to shatter."
"You don't think there are," Clint challenged.
"Could be," she acknowledged. "But I saw him here for what he was, and what he wanted."
"Which is?"
"Me, any way he can get me." Before Clint could protest, she placed a calming hand on his chest. "You know I fucked him."
Uncomfortable, Clint nodded. "You mentioned that, yeah."
"I fucked him, and I fucked him. And I fucked with him. He'd said, from the very beginning, that no one else had ever been able to sneak past him. No one else had been able to get the drop on him, manipulate him."
"And so he got his revenge."
"Except he didn't," Natasha told him. "I'm not alone. I'm not an outcast. I'm still trusted." Her lips quirked in amusement. "Not by the Council, but we're not counting them."
"Hell no," Clint returned with an answering smile.
"So he has no idea what the hell to do now. I was his plan all along, and it didn't work." She could see the understanding dawn in Clint's eyes. "He doesn't know what he wants, but he knows that somehow, I'm key to it. All I have to do is guide him in the right direction."
"And if he won't let you?"
Natasha gave him a sensual, secretive smile. "I know how to get to him. He'll let me."
Clint sighed. "Your op, then?" She nodded. "All right. Call me in if you need to."
She gave him a hug, which drained the tension from him. She did such moves so rarely, and they counted for so much. "Why do you think I'm telling you this? No flying in there without backup if I can help it."
She just hoped she was telling him the truth.
***
Natasha stopped short when she left her bedroom for the sitting area of her suite. Hel stood there, staring at the rather bland landscape Tony had put into the room soon after she moved in. He had declared her space too empty and impersonal, and thought a massive landscape photo would give the room more character. Determined not to let anything go to waste, she hid two blades in the frame and rearranged her furniture so that it was a focal point of the room. Clint knew the blades were there, and had given her a lopsided smile and eye roll at her unrelenting need to be prepared for all contingencies. He likely wasn't laughing now that Loki had arrived.
"Lady Hel," Natasha said, aware she was still in her sleep clothes. The goddess was standing tall and regal, her hair loose and falling down in cascade down her back. The gown was as black as her hair, shot with silver runes that seemed to shift and shimmer with every breath. It had long sleeves, falling to her wrists, the neckline was a wide scoop across the front and an impossibly low dip to the small of her back. It skimmed her figure closely, and Natasha thought it rather resembled one of the evening gowns she had worn on an op months ago.
Hel turned, smiling warmly at her. "Natasha," she said, turning to look at her casual attire. Her voice was the whisper of dust across grave stones, yet it carried across the distance between them. "I see you are well. My gift agrees with you."
"It seems to, yes. Painful, but you hadn't promised me anything about that."
Inclining her head slightly, Hel approached. "No, I had not. Should I have?"
Natasha paused. "Is it time to collect me?" she asked quietly. The idea discomfited her; while she wasn't opposed to the idea of death, she wasn't ready now.
The surprise on her face was nothing more than a slow blink of her eyes, as if she wasn't entirely sure how to respond. "No," Hel said finally. "I had wished to speak to you of other things."
"Other things," Natasha echoed. The only things they had in common were death and Loki, and either one was likely to be a topic she would not want to discuss.
"Loki," Hel said with a nod. She gestured widely for the sofa. "Sit beside me, dear. We have much to speak of."
"He was here," Natasha said, moving to sit beside her.
"Yes. And he will be again." Hel said primly, her back effortlessly straight. She was out of place in this suite, but carried her same regal air as if they were in Helheim. When Natasha sat, Hel handed over a crystalline bottle inscribed with a number of runes. It was filled with some kind of clear yellow liquid, just viscous enough not to slosh when it appeared out of nowhere. "You should have this. Work it into his blood, then he will truly be able to see."
"What is it?"
"You spoke to me of balance. Ledgers and accounting, yes?" Natasha nodded, and Hel's lips stretched into a smile. "Loki cannot conceive of such a notion as you have. He balances slights with elaborate plots for revenge."
"I've noticed," Natasha replied dryly.
"This will allow him to see as you do. To be able to comprehend the ledger system you speak of. No more, no less. Then he may choose to do as he sees fit."
"What kind of harm would this do to him?" Natasha asked suspiciously, picking up the bottle to inspect its contents. At Hel's nod of encouragement, she lifted the stopper and inhaled the aromatic scent of essential oils she could not name.
"What harm does your ledger give you?" Hel asked in return, eyebrow raised.
Point. Natasha nodded slightly, and put the stopper back on. "There is still no guarantee he'll even be back," she said, though she knew the words were hollow. She had felt his anger and desperation mixed together. He wanted to know why he hadn't been able to break her, why his plan hadn't worked the way he wanted it to.
Hel laughed. "Oh, I know Loki enough to know that he cannot resist a puzzle he shouldn't pull apart. You are fascinating for him. He doesn't understand you. He cannot, and it drives him mad. Such things draw him closer in spite of himself."
"You know him very well."
"I've seen the images that the dead see," Hel replied with a smile. "So I've seen many things."
"You haven't met him," Natasha guessed. She doubted Hel would be so calm if she had seen Loki's wrath up close and personal.
"I've never met him in his world, and he seeks to avoid mine. It was a bargain struck long ago with my mother, and the magic of my mother and his mother allowed me to live. I was born dead, truly dead, and their intervention was necessary to assume rule. In other words, I am magic, and on some level, like calls to like." She reached out and touched Natasha's arm fondly. "You are strong in ways he cannot be. He doesn't comprehend this, but you do. Your world does not revolve around him, as mine does not. It drives him mad."
"And you want me to make him even more insane?"
Hel shook her head. "No need for that. His own flaws do the work for you. No, Natasha, I don't ask for that. Be yourself. You will either change him or break him. Either way, he cannot continue as he is, or he will drive himself to my realm after all."
"What was the bargain he struck with your mother?" Natasha asked, frowning. It suddenly seemed important. Why would Hel at once want him in her realm and not want him there?
"To learn the secret ways of Yggdrasil. It allows him to move through realms according to his whim. He might arrive at my realm, but he wouldn't stay there for long. The ways to leave it are dangerous, and the rage he would visit on other realms would be great." She patted Natasha's arm. "I may appreciate the entrants to my realm, but it doesn't mean I wish other realms be decimated to populate it."
That made sense, so Natasha nodded. "I can see that. Uncontrolled population growth leads to chaos and destruction."
"You are practical," Hel commented, rising.
"I suppose. No point in weeping for things that cannot be changed."
"That's what I mean," Hel said with a smile.
"Is this helpful?"
"For this endeavor? Of course. It's only by being practical that you can have any headway at all. For someone who claims to be so superior to the rest of us, he is largely ruled by emotion. He's not very rational at all."
"That makes him unpredictable."
"Perhaps," Hel replied with a slight shrug of her elegant shoulders. A shimmering portal into Helheim opened behind her. "But behind the unpredictability lies a very predictable and dare I say very human response pattern. You can deal with him. I've been looking into your history with the seers since you left my realm." Her eyes glittered like faraway stars. "You are more than a match for Loki, Natasha. And better yet, I think you'll win this battle of wills. After all, you've had more practice at control and practicality."
Natasha stayed seated as Hel left. She closed her hand around the crystal vial of essential oils and pondered Hel's confidence in her skills. She had come a long way since her initial uncertainty around Loki. She used to fear instability. Now it seemed as though she was capable of finding the predictable within the unpredictable.
Hm. Something to think about, then.
***
***
To Chapter Two - Striking A Bargain