Open Your Eyes, 1/5. NC-17
Title: Open Your Eyes
Series: #11 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, #6 - Lick Your Wounds, #7 - Bitter Sparks, #8 - Father's Will, #9 - To Feel Safe Again, #10 - Hit Your Prime)
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Loki/Natasha, Natasha/OFC mentioned, Natasha/Fandral/Loki
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 events in them. Additional warning for misogyny (internalized and society-driven) and references to torture.
Title and series title from "The Royal We" by Silversun Pickups
Special thanks to phoenixrising06/
romanovasledger for plotting and characterization discussion. :)
Summary: As Ambassador to Asgard, nobility didn't expect Natasha to be much more than a figurehead or diplomat. That very much was not her way, especially not when there was a mystery that needed to be solved.
One - Return To Asgard
Heimdall leveled his golden eyes at Natasha and Loki. Loki was dressed in Midgardian clothes, Natasha in Asgardian regalia. Their packed bags were at their side, though Loki thought that perhaps she hadn't needed to bring her books with her. "So this is your companion, Ambassador Romanoff," he intoned, a faint humorous edge to his voice. His eyes traveled across Loki's form, taking in the pale skin, long wavy black hair, green eyes and sharp features. She still carried Loki's height and sinewy grace, with very feminine curves beneath the loose clothing she wore. "I would not recommend using the name most familiar in this realm. Even a matronymic may not be enough to shield you from the outstanding warrant of execution."
Loki froze, staring at Heimdall. "I give no cause for you to aid me."
"No, you do not. Your crimes against my king and my realm have been great indeed. But if the Ambassador requested your presence, there is reason for such an action. It is my opinion that she rarely does things for no reason." He graced Natasha with a smile. "There is much unrest in this realm, Ambassador. I believe the small waves you have tried to create were not enough to stem the tides."
"That's unfortunate," Natasha replied with a sigh.
"It is," Heimdall told her gravely. "Lord Jogeirr was found murdered on his estate not long ago, and three karls were executed for the crime."
Natasha wasn't familiar with the name, but that hardly mattered. Whispers had progressed to strikes and shortages while she had been in Asgard. Now it had devolved into murder and execution as retribution. "Revolution is coming, then."
"Yes," Heimdall agreed. "Tread carefully. Even I cannot see who is trustworthy in a time like this." His hand went heavily to his large sword. "But we have our oaths and our duty, and we will protect the king and the realm from all harm."
"I will. Thank you for the warning, Heimdall."
He nodded respectfully at her before turning to Loki. "If you are not known as Loki Friggasdottir here, how shall you be addressed?"
She had used Laura and Laurel before, but neither felt comfortable or natural. She hadn't really thought of using a pseudonym on Asgard, but it was truly the wisest course of action. "I suppose I could use Lara while I'm here," Loki murmured.
Heimdall nodded. "I hope this second chance is not squandered, or friends to the realm betrayed as we have been before."
"It's not my intent at all," Loki replied honestly. That appeased the Gatekeeper, who sent them on their way to the palace.
It was odd to walk along the Rainbow Bridge with an escort. Loki remembered racing up and down as a boy, or walking along its length alone and with a deliberate swagger. "Things are dangerous indeed if there is an escort."
Natasha looked at him, corners of her mouth turned down. "There was an escort when I arrived the last time."
"It was not always so in the past." Loki swept her eyes across the golden gates, a stirring growing in her chest at the sight. "I remember many things, but they did not affect me in this way," she murmured softly.
"Because now you can't take it for granted."
"Perhaps."
After a beat, Natasha's lips quirked up in the corner. "Lara? As in Lara Croft, Tomb Raider?"
Loki blinked at her in confusion. "It's a Russian name, is it not?"
"It can be, yes," Natasha said with a nod. "Is that why you picked it?"
She had wanted to be close to Natasha. The distance between them had been great, showcasing how independent Natasha really was. Loki felt hollow and empty in comparison, for all that Steve had tried hard to fill the gaps in her monstrous soul. There were likely thousands of things she could have done or said, but she didn't know what it was.
"One of the reasons. I'm playing at Midgardian, am I not?"
Natasha's eyes flicked to the honor guards, but they weren't paying attention to the whispered conversation. "Did you want to see Frigga right away?"
Yes. No. Yes. Loki bit her bottom lip, worrying at it as the odd feeling in her chest expanded and threatened to choke her. Mother, she thought, longing filling her. It was fierce and sharp, as strong as the longing she'd had for Natasha. "Yes."
"Then I'll arrange for our things to be brought to my suite, and we'll put them away ourselves later. I don't think you want Bera going through your things." At Loki's startled expression, Natasha smiled a little. "They gave me a handmaiden. Royal trappings, and all that goes with it."
"You do deserve such fineries," Loki murmured, worrying at her lip again. She wanted to dig her nails into her arms or thighs, wanted to ground herself in something real as pain. But then again, she was with Natasha again. Natasha was a grounding force, someone stronger than she seemed to be at first glance, one who wasn't merely the sum of her past but someone actively working to create a different future.
"It's convenient, sure, but not important. Not in the ways that matter."
That wasn't a concept that Loki was entirely familiar with, and she pondered it on the way to the palace. It was what Steve was trying to impress upon her on Midgard, though Loki hadn't really wanted to understand it then. She had been a god, had been raised with power and the knowledge that she was better and more suited to rule than denizens of other realms. How could she accept suddenly being less than that? How could she accept herself as she was now? As Natasha sent the luggage to her suite and directed Loki to Frigga's suite, she decided that honor was possibly the closest thing she understood. Fineries were only the trappings of honor and rank, but didn't signify the importance of maintaining it. Of course, her own honor was gone as far as Asgardians were concerned.
Frigga's suite was as spacious and grand as Loki remembered it, overlooking one of her favorite gardens in the palace. There was a spiral staircase that led from the balcony down to the area near the fountain. Walls were done in gold and accented in reds and greens, everything meant to be tasteful and serene. Loki's heart constricted in her chest when she saw Frigga at her desk, reading a scroll. By the decorative knotwork around the edges, Loki knew it to be a work describing the spá that she once tried to teach. Loki hadn't been able to grasp its concepts, no matter how simply Frigga had described it.
Her politely inquisitive expression was painfully familiar and strange at once. Loki was tempted to call her Mother, rush forward and give her a tight hug. She wanted and needed that more than she was willing to ever admit, but Frigga wouldn't take that well from a stranger. And she couldn't kid herself, she was a stranger right now. The months she had spent living as a woman still didn't make her feel entirely whole or comfortable, so how could others feel that way with her? She hung back slightly, anxiety building.
"Has something happened?" Frigga asked Natasha, her gaze sliding over Loki without any recognition at all. That hurt more than it really should have.
"I'd like to introduce you to Lara. Though her real name is Loki Friggasdottir."
Frigga dropped the edge of the scroll, and she rose to her feet. "This is a cruel jest, Natasha."
"Speak with her for yourself."
Heart in her throat, Loki stepped forward. "I've layered spells throughout my body," she told Frigga in Allspeak. "The spells you and Odin placed are the foundation, so I do not resemble the Jotnar, but I am still Loki. Of a sort."
Reaching to touch Loki's face, Frigga concentrated as she stared at Loki's features. Black hair, green eyes, pale skin, sharp features... Any female could have such traits. But Frigga knew the magical signature that was Loki so very well, and her breath caught when she recognized it in the woman in front of her. "Loki?"
"I'm not hunted in this form," Loki replied, switching back to English for Natasha's benefit. "So I could return."
"Do you find solace here after all?" Frigga asked, lips tilting into a fond smile.
Oh. Of course. The last time Loki had been here, he hadn't been allowed to stay because of the execution order. Frigga had to seal all the hidden entrances to Asgard from Yggdrasil, and Loki had lied about never wanting to return.
"I thought to see the world with new eyes," Loki evaded.
Frigga's smile was knowing and kind at once. She gestured to the table and had Loki sit across from her. "Tell me of the transformation, then. It is quite complicated spellwork."
Natasha moved to the balcony, looking out over the garden in order to give them a modicum of privacy. Loki started describing the layering of the spells, carefully avoiding why she had done it in the first place. Her reasons were tangled things, confusing even to her, and she had realized in Natasha's absence that she had left herself even more vulnerable in this form. But she wasn't ready to leave it yet; it was easier to be a woman, easier to fall into emotion and sentimentality, easier to move about without the massive walls and defenses she had to maintain as a male. It seemed impossible that Natasha could be as strong as she was; as much as Natasha had wanted her to learn how to be stronger willed, Loki hadn't learned how to do it.
When Loki's eyes kept straying to Natasha's silhouette on the balcony, Frigga smiled knowingly. "You love her," she murmured in Allspeak.
Loki's attention snapped back to Frigga and her expression slid into a glower. "I'm a monster, remember?" she replied in Allspeak, pain evident to her own ears. "I'm incapable of love."
"Oh, Loki," Frigga sighed. "Of course you're capable."
"You don't deny I'm a monster," she said tightly. Though she still spoke in Allspeak, Natasha turned at the sound of her voice. There was no expression on her face, no hint of what she was feeling in her eyes. Loki could feel the gaping hole in her chest grow wider, and she almost feared falling into it whole.
Frigga reached across the table to touch Loki's arm, and she stiffened at the touch. "We never wanted you to feel different, Loki. You must understand that. You are part of our family. You are important to us."
"A bargaining chip. An artifact. Something to be used as you saw fit."
She withdrew her hand, and Loki's heart sank. No, she hadn't wanted that to be true, even though she knew it was. Loki had been counting on Frigga to lie, to give her comforting platitudes and boundless love, to chide her for being so very foolish, but there it was. Even Frigga couldn't lie about that any longer.
Her heart-or whatever passed for one in the emptiness inside of her-was breaking.
"You don't understand, Loki," Frigga began softly. Her eyes were downcast, and Loki stared at the intricate knotwork on the borders of the scroll so that she didn't have to see Frigga's expression any longer. It didn't even register immediately that she had switched to English. "I'd lost a child, and you lost your family. You became my son."
The Jotnar feared magic. Asgardians mistrusted it if it was too complicated. Most Midgardians thought it was simply a fairy tale. Who knew what other worlds thought?
"I am not your son," Loki said, though his voice sounded raw and pained.
Frigga looked up at her, lips quirking into a smile. "No. Now you are my daughter. All you feared regarding the seidr doesn't matter any longer."
But no, that wasn't right, was it? Was it?
"What of the people?" Loki asked. "Are the karls so fearsome that an honor guard must squire about royal guests? Has the Allfather lost control of Asgard?"
Something hardened in Frigga's expression. "Do not question your father."
"He is not, is he? He is simply the Allfather to me, ruler of Asgard, the one that put the order of execution on my head. There's no more use for me here other than as a cautionary tale, another reason why the seidr must be confined, must be controlled." Loki's lips pulled back into a snarl. "Isn't that true?" She thought of sneering Mother at her, but her heart was breaking too badly. If she said that, if there was any scorn in that title, she would collapse and cry, never to stop again.
"You are not a cautionary tale," Frigga hissed, rising to her feet. Loki shot to hers, and she caught a tremor in her hands. She clenched them into fists and tried to keep control over her restless body. "You have been gone from this realm, Loki. There are matters at work that you do not know, you cannot understand. Do not condemn Odin for the choices he must make." Frigga's voice dropped. "He is King, and there are more considerations that must be taken into account. It is not his desire alone that must be listened to."
"He desires me dead."
"He does not. But you committed high treason, Loki. Your crimes are innumerable and against multiple realms. It cannot be ignored."
Loki looked at Frigga with empty, lost eyes. "I am what you made me, Mother."
Frigga reacted as if slapped, stepping back from Loki. Loki wanted to cry, her eyes burning and hot, her throat constricting and her chest tight.
"And on that note," Natasha said firmly, coming in and taking Loki's arm roughly. "Time to go."
Natasha all but frog-marched Loki out of the room, Frigga looking after them with a lost expression. Loki wanted to scream or cry, wanted to curse her for what she had done when he had been a boy. She wanted her to deny it. She needed Frigga to deny it, to say that Loki wasn't a monster, hadn't been shaped to be such a horrible thing, it was all a misunderstanding. But Frigga couldn't, could she?
"I told her the same thing," Natasha said quietly a few hallways later. Loki was startled that she had lost her bearings in the palace, for all that she knew where everything was. Everything felt familiar and strange at once, perhaps because she was female now. "I told her she had shaped you into something different, that she couldn't simply wash her hands of guilt. Prejudice and blindness and magic and good intentions... There's a saying. 'The road to hell is paved with good intentions.' Trust me," Natasha said as she finally slowed down and let go of Loki's arm. "I've seen many roads like that."
"I trust you," Loki whispered hoarsely.
"She didn't take it too well then, either. And Odin liked it even less."
"You actually told them what you thought?" Loki asked, incredulous.
"Of course I did," Natasha replied, a haughty edge to her voice. "They needed to hear it, and they didn't invite me here to bat my eyelashes at them. They wanted information about you, and they wanted to think they could coerce me into controlling you."
Loki's breath caught. Hadn't that been what Natasha was doing?
She rolled her eyes, not noticing or not responding to Loki's response. "They really think they can control everyone. Arrogant and extremely misguided."
"They don't control you," Loki said in a broken whisper.
Now Natasha snorted outright. "Of course not." The corner of her lips quirked into a familiar and sensual smile. "Just like you have never really controlled me."
"I'd argue that point, little spider."
Giving Loki a hard shove that sent her stumbling, Natasha proceeded to walk down the hallway with her head held high. "You know the rule about that name, Lara."
"Do the rules even apply here?" Loki asked, brows knit as she hurried to keep up with Natasha.
"Of course they do. They always apply until we mutually decide that they don't any longer. Location doesn't matter."
Sweet relief poured through Loki, and she couldn't help but grin at Natasha's back. "I don't wish to relinquish the agreement."
"I didn't think so. We're heading to my suite," Natasha informed her. Her lips quirked into a smile. "I think you'll be pleasantly surprised by where it is."
Curious, Loki followed her through the halls in the section of the palace reserved for royalty and those held in extremely high esteem. Natasha pushed open a grand set of double doors and went inside, so Loki followed her. She looked around the suite that Natasha had been assigned and was duly impressed. "You did get a prized location. Quite the coup, Natasha."
She made sure to lock the doors before going to the desk in the bedroom. "It suits my needs."
"So modest," Loki said with a smile. She watched Natasha start to remove the throwing knives she had strapped to her forearms, then the dress. Reaching for her, Loki let her fingers trail down the rise of Natasha's breasts as the outer robe was removed. "So beautiful."
"There's no magic in this room," Natasha said, letting the outer layer fall to the floor around her in a whisper of heavy embroidered silk. "And even though the walls are stone, I'm sure there are ears listening at all times."
"Such is the nature of the palace."
"If you want to do more than look, I suggest silencing spells around the bed."
Grinning almost maniacally, Loki proceeded to do just that. The spells were layered one over the other, a thick weaving that would be nearly impossible to undo. It was so much easier than it used to be, something that made her almost want to giggle and show off. There was so much power caught inside of her, pulsing along with her heartbeat. If she could just become more like Natasha, if she could turn Natasha to her purpose, Loki could do anything.
Turning to preen for Natasha's benefit, instead her lips parted at the sight of Natasha standing in front of her wearing nothing but a sheer linen kirtle, her feet bare and hair falling in curls down to her shoulders. She looked ethereal, as if she was the goddess and not Loki.
Not even realizing she had stepped forward, Loki gathered her up in her arms and kissed her, mouth hot and open with need. "It had been too long," she growled against Natasha's lips, one hand cupped around a breast to fondle her through the fine fabric.
Natasha returned the kiss with equal fervor, making Loki's heart sing with wonder. Had she been missed as well? Oh, she would never say such a thing, the tough assassin domme, but Loki had occupied her thoughts far too often before. Why wouldn't Natasha miss Loki?
They stumbled backward toward the bed, falling into the enchanted space that would keep their secret. Loki let out a moan at the feel of Natasha in her arms, real and whole and touching her back, nails scratching through her clothing. The sensation of her was heady, making her breath catch and desire pool deep in her belly. Loki turned their bodies so that Natasha was trapped beneath her, moving to kiss her mouth and neck as she held Natasha's wrists down over her head. Loki's other hand continued to stroke her breast. After a while she shifted her position on the bed to suck on Natasha's breast through the fabric while keeping her wrists down. Natasha hooked one of her legs around Loki's waist, keeping her there, which made her hum happily.
Loki moved her hand to slide it down Natasha's thigh, pushing the kirtle out of the way. She shoved the fabric up and over Natasha's waist, then pulled back to kneel beside her on the bed. "I can use my magic on you here, yes?" Natasha nodded, her kiss swollen lips full and lush. "It's been too long," Loki nearly moaned, feeling herself grow wet as she looked over Natasha's body sprawled beneath her. "I want to taste you, and take you until you scream."
Natasha gave her a sultry smile. "Do your worst, Loki."
Challenge accepted.
Magic unspooled from Loki's body, catching hold of Natasha's and pinning her down spread-eagled in the center of the bed. Loki ripped the kirtle from her torso, the fine fabric parting easily and leaving her skin bare to Loki's gaze. She descended right away to lick at Natasha's folds and clit, using her magic to fill her quim with a full, thick cock pounding into her. It was wonderful to hear Natasha moan, a throaty low sound that told Loki that she was truly feeling the pleasure that she was giving her. Loki licked into her at intervals, then at her clit, the taste of her like wine. Her hands grasped Natasha's thighs or ass, pulling and pushing her in order to delve deeply into her body and make her cry out.
She could see Natasha straining against the magic, wanting to pull against it and run her fingers into Loki's hair, pushing her face right up into her clit. Loki laughed and sucked on Natasha's clit, making her magic push deeper into her quim. It was enough to make Natasha arch her back and groan loudly as she came. Loki thought it was interesting that she generally didn't have much of a filthy mouth during sex, and liked the idea that she did it purely for Loki's benefit. There was something flattering about the idea of Natasha going out of her way for Loki's enjoyment.
Loki didn't stop, wanting to hear Natasha mewl and whine when she was on the edge of oversensitivity, wanting to have her begging. But at the same time, she wanted to feel Natasha touching her, wanted Natasha's mouth on her, too. She took her mouth from Natasha's flesh and watched her chest heave as she struggled for breath. Moving swiftly, Loki positioned her own wet quim over Natasha's mouth and stretched her body out over hers so that she could still lick Natasha's clit. She ran her hands over Natasha's thighs, skimming her nails lightly over the sensitive skin. At this point, there were no words necessary, just the delve of tongue into slick folds and the heady scent of desire. Natasha knew how to pleasure her, even in this form, and Loki knew the touch that worked best for her.
Once the delightful shivers wracked her form, Loki let go of the magic bonds holding Natasha in place. She grasped Loki's ass and sucked hard on her clit, making her gasp and press her cheek against Natasha's thigh as she struggled for breath. "Natasha," she gasped, voice fracturing into a moan of pleasure. Natasha slid a finger into her quim, then two, and Loki shut her eyes as she let out a wail. "More, please, Norns, please, I missed you." Loki was this close to actually saying "my love," but managed to stop herself in time.
Natasha sucked harder on her, then slid another finger into her. Though the angle for her wrist had to be painfully awkward, Natasha started thrusting her fingers in and out. Loki clenched down hard around them, whimpering and moaning, clutching Natasha's thighs tightly. She had to cheat and use her magic to stroke Natasha's breasts and clit, pinching lightly and bringing the same pleasure to Natasha. Loki cried out when she came, her body convulsing slightly before collapsing down on top of Natasha. She didn't resist when she was pushed over onto her back, and Natasha straddled her waist, leaning over her. "Was that your worst?" she asked with a smirk, looking as though she could still continue to fuck Loki over the edge of sanity.
Loki couldn't help but laugh, and pulled her down for a filthy kiss. "Perhaps I'm out of practice."
"I'll say," Natasha replied against her mouth. "I expected more from you."
She rolled over on top of Natasha, arms and legs tangled together. "You don't like it when I use magic on you."
"Oh, I liked your use of it tonight just fine," Natasha purred, sliding one of her hands along Loki's spine until she caught her about the neck. She pulled Loki down for a kiss, then grinned up at her. "I didn't bring along any toys, after all. I figured there wasn't any need to risk awkward questions about them."
"But without your arsenal..."
"I get to use my imagination."
Oh. That sounded unbearably filthy, and Loki had to grin. "There are those that would consider you unnatural," she said as the grin slid from her face.
Natasha didn't seem concerned at all. "I know and I don't care. Let them talk." She pulled Loki down for another kiss, soothing her frazzled nerves. "I know the truth."
"And that is what?" Loki asked. She was almost afraid of the answer.
"That you're mine. Isn't that so?"
Loki's heart sang at her declaration, and she grinned at Natasha, feeling as if her soul would burst. Strange how she used to fear such ties, that she would mistrust them as bindings that would strangle and harm her. With Natasha, Loki felt comforted, protected from herself and her wild excesses. "Oh, yes," she said in a pleased purr. "Yes. And you're mine."
When Natasha didn't deny her claim, Loki grinned even wider, teeth flashing in the dim light of the room. "Are you so quick to publicly state that claim? Have them stare and point and whisper, call you unnatural or strange? Are you ready for the remarks, Natasha?"
She hooked a leg around Loki's waist and pulled her close. "The important question is, are you?" she asked seriously, hands running along her back. "I can handle just about anything. Can you?"
"You think me weak?" Loki asked, nearly snarling in anger. Never mind that she herself wondered if she was weak and sometimes thought she was. It was a different matter for Natasha to think such a thing. Loki couldn't bear that.
"I think you've grown comfortable on Midgard. You might see this as home, but you've changed too much, and this place never does. I don't think you fit in here even a little bit." No emotion in her voice, no inflection to tell Loki how she felt. "I think if you let it, Asgard will break your heart and you won't recover."
Loki thought of falling from the bridge, sinking into the abyss, shattering on impact. Oh yes, it would break her heart to be cast out again, to be relegated to the darkness. Natasha was as uncomfortably perceptive as always.
She bowed her head and let her forehead touch Natasha's. "If I have you, I could."
Natasha's hands traced the slope of her spine, making her shiver. "Then we'll see how it goes."
No promises, no easy consolation. No, that wasn't Natasha's way. But she would stay with Loki, and that was perhaps the most important fact of all.
***
He begged and begged, nearly screaming at the unbearable pain currently coursing through his body. He couldn't bear the thought of his beloved going through this, the terrible pain on the rack and the tools that disfigured her beauty. "I'll give you whatever you want," he promised, knowing it for the lie it was. "Money, food, anything..."
"Because you're so very trustworthy," his torturer sneered. "Because you've kept all of your promises to us before."
"I will this time. You've proven your point! You mean business now!"
The torturer laughed, a harsh and unforgiving sound. He held a red hot poker in hand, freshly pulled from the fireplace. It cast eerie lights and shadows across his face, highlighting the scars across his cheeks. "We've always meant business. You just never wanted to hear it. But now the rest of them will."
The rest of them? If ever he thought he might escape, that comment just dashed his hopes. He screamed and pulled at his restraints, but he had been half starved and tortured already. His mind was close to the breaking point; seeing his wife's battered and broken body had been too much to bear and had taken the fight out of him. She had always been the epitome of beauty and grace, the height of Asgardian ideals. He had done everything for her, everything, spared her nothing, given her every comfort in the Nine Realms.
And now she was dead. And soon enough, he would be, too.
The shadows behind his torturer seemed to part. A strange creature stood there, a golden staff in hand with a blue jewel in it radiating light. "Begin," the creature told his torturer. Only then did he notice that his torturer's eyes were the same blue as the jewel in the staff, and that there was almost an absent gaze behind the sneer.
"We all have a part to play," the karls had said when he was seized from his bedroom the night before. "Time to start singing a new tune."
When the poker met his flesh, it was almost a relief to scream, almost a relief to let loose the last fetters keeping his sanity in place.
***
***
To Chapter Two - The Investigation Begins
Series: #11 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, #6 - Lick Your Wounds, #7 - Bitter Sparks, #8 - Father's Will, #9 - To Feel Safe Again, #10 - Hit Your Prime)
Author: Eustacia Vye
Author's e-mail: eustacia_vye28@hotmail.com
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Loki/Natasha, Natasha/OFC mentioned, Natasha/Fandral/Loki
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 events in them. Additional warning for misogyny (internalized and society-driven) and references to torture.
Title and series title from "The Royal We" by Silversun Pickups
Special thanks to phoenixrising06/
romanovasledger for plotting and characterization discussion. :)
Summary: As Ambassador to Asgard, nobility didn't expect Natasha to be much more than a figurehead or diplomat. That very much was not her way, especially not when there was a mystery that needed to be solved.
One - Return To Asgard
Heimdall leveled his golden eyes at Natasha and Loki. Loki was dressed in Midgardian clothes, Natasha in Asgardian regalia. Their packed bags were at their side, though Loki thought that perhaps she hadn't needed to bring her books with her. "So this is your companion, Ambassador Romanoff," he intoned, a faint humorous edge to his voice. His eyes traveled across Loki's form, taking in the pale skin, long wavy black hair, green eyes and sharp features. She still carried Loki's height and sinewy grace, with very feminine curves beneath the loose clothing she wore. "I would not recommend using the name most familiar in this realm. Even a matronymic may not be enough to shield you from the outstanding warrant of execution."
Loki froze, staring at Heimdall. "I give no cause for you to aid me."
"No, you do not. Your crimes against my king and my realm have been great indeed. But if the Ambassador requested your presence, there is reason for such an action. It is my opinion that she rarely does things for no reason." He graced Natasha with a smile. "There is much unrest in this realm, Ambassador. I believe the small waves you have tried to create were not enough to stem the tides."
"That's unfortunate," Natasha replied with a sigh.
"It is," Heimdall told her gravely. "Lord Jogeirr was found murdered on his estate not long ago, and three karls were executed for the crime."
Natasha wasn't familiar with the name, but that hardly mattered. Whispers had progressed to strikes and shortages while she had been in Asgard. Now it had devolved into murder and execution as retribution. "Revolution is coming, then."
"Yes," Heimdall agreed. "Tread carefully. Even I cannot see who is trustworthy in a time like this." His hand went heavily to his large sword. "But we have our oaths and our duty, and we will protect the king and the realm from all harm."
"I will. Thank you for the warning, Heimdall."
He nodded respectfully at her before turning to Loki. "If you are not known as Loki Friggasdottir here, how shall you be addressed?"
She had used Laura and Laurel before, but neither felt comfortable or natural. She hadn't really thought of using a pseudonym on Asgard, but it was truly the wisest course of action. "I suppose I could use Lara while I'm here," Loki murmured.
Heimdall nodded. "I hope this second chance is not squandered, or friends to the realm betrayed as we have been before."
"It's not my intent at all," Loki replied honestly. That appeased the Gatekeeper, who sent them on their way to the palace.
It was odd to walk along the Rainbow Bridge with an escort. Loki remembered racing up and down as a boy, or walking along its length alone and with a deliberate swagger. "Things are dangerous indeed if there is an escort."
Natasha looked at him, corners of her mouth turned down. "There was an escort when I arrived the last time."
"It was not always so in the past." Loki swept her eyes across the golden gates, a stirring growing in her chest at the sight. "I remember many things, but they did not affect me in this way," she murmured softly.
"Because now you can't take it for granted."
"Perhaps."
After a beat, Natasha's lips quirked up in the corner. "Lara? As in Lara Croft, Tomb Raider?"
Loki blinked at her in confusion. "It's a Russian name, is it not?"
"It can be, yes," Natasha said with a nod. "Is that why you picked it?"
She had wanted to be close to Natasha. The distance between them had been great, showcasing how independent Natasha really was. Loki felt hollow and empty in comparison, for all that Steve had tried hard to fill the gaps in her monstrous soul. There were likely thousands of things she could have done or said, but she didn't know what it was.
"One of the reasons. I'm playing at Midgardian, am I not?"
Natasha's eyes flicked to the honor guards, but they weren't paying attention to the whispered conversation. "Did you want to see Frigga right away?"
Yes. No. Yes. Loki bit her bottom lip, worrying at it as the odd feeling in her chest expanded and threatened to choke her. Mother, she thought, longing filling her. It was fierce and sharp, as strong as the longing she'd had for Natasha. "Yes."
"Then I'll arrange for our things to be brought to my suite, and we'll put them away ourselves later. I don't think you want Bera going through your things." At Loki's startled expression, Natasha smiled a little. "They gave me a handmaiden. Royal trappings, and all that goes with it."
"You do deserve such fineries," Loki murmured, worrying at her lip again. She wanted to dig her nails into her arms or thighs, wanted to ground herself in something real as pain. But then again, she was with Natasha again. Natasha was a grounding force, someone stronger than she seemed to be at first glance, one who wasn't merely the sum of her past but someone actively working to create a different future.
"It's convenient, sure, but not important. Not in the ways that matter."
That wasn't a concept that Loki was entirely familiar with, and she pondered it on the way to the palace. It was what Steve was trying to impress upon her on Midgard, though Loki hadn't really wanted to understand it then. She had been a god, had been raised with power and the knowledge that she was better and more suited to rule than denizens of other realms. How could she accept suddenly being less than that? How could she accept herself as she was now? As Natasha sent the luggage to her suite and directed Loki to Frigga's suite, she decided that honor was possibly the closest thing she understood. Fineries were only the trappings of honor and rank, but didn't signify the importance of maintaining it. Of course, her own honor was gone as far as Asgardians were concerned.
Frigga's suite was as spacious and grand as Loki remembered it, overlooking one of her favorite gardens in the palace. There was a spiral staircase that led from the balcony down to the area near the fountain. Walls were done in gold and accented in reds and greens, everything meant to be tasteful and serene. Loki's heart constricted in her chest when she saw Frigga at her desk, reading a scroll. By the decorative knotwork around the edges, Loki knew it to be a work describing the spá that she once tried to teach. Loki hadn't been able to grasp its concepts, no matter how simply Frigga had described it.
Her politely inquisitive expression was painfully familiar and strange at once. Loki was tempted to call her Mother, rush forward and give her a tight hug. She wanted and needed that more than she was willing to ever admit, but Frigga wouldn't take that well from a stranger. And she couldn't kid herself, she was a stranger right now. The months she had spent living as a woman still didn't make her feel entirely whole or comfortable, so how could others feel that way with her? She hung back slightly, anxiety building.
"Has something happened?" Frigga asked Natasha, her gaze sliding over Loki without any recognition at all. That hurt more than it really should have.
"I'd like to introduce you to Lara. Though her real name is Loki Friggasdottir."
Frigga dropped the edge of the scroll, and she rose to her feet. "This is a cruel jest, Natasha."
"Speak with her for yourself."
Heart in her throat, Loki stepped forward. "I've layered spells throughout my body," she told Frigga in Allspeak. "The spells you and Odin placed are the foundation, so I do not resemble the Jotnar, but I am still Loki. Of a sort."
Reaching to touch Loki's face, Frigga concentrated as she stared at Loki's features. Black hair, green eyes, pale skin, sharp features... Any female could have such traits. But Frigga knew the magical signature that was Loki so very well, and her breath caught when she recognized it in the woman in front of her. "Loki?"
"I'm not hunted in this form," Loki replied, switching back to English for Natasha's benefit. "So I could return."
"Do you find solace here after all?" Frigga asked, lips tilting into a fond smile.
Oh. Of course. The last time Loki had been here, he hadn't been allowed to stay because of the execution order. Frigga had to seal all the hidden entrances to Asgard from Yggdrasil, and Loki had lied about never wanting to return.
"I thought to see the world with new eyes," Loki evaded.
Frigga's smile was knowing and kind at once. She gestured to the table and had Loki sit across from her. "Tell me of the transformation, then. It is quite complicated spellwork."
Natasha moved to the balcony, looking out over the garden in order to give them a modicum of privacy. Loki started describing the layering of the spells, carefully avoiding why she had done it in the first place. Her reasons were tangled things, confusing even to her, and she had realized in Natasha's absence that she had left herself even more vulnerable in this form. But she wasn't ready to leave it yet; it was easier to be a woman, easier to fall into emotion and sentimentality, easier to move about without the massive walls and defenses she had to maintain as a male. It seemed impossible that Natasha could be as strong as she was; as much as Natasha had wanted her to learn how to be stronger willed, Loki hadn't learned how to do it.
When Loki's eyes kept straying to Natasha's silhouette on the balcony, Frigga smiled knowingly. "You love her," she murmured in Allspeak.
Loki's attention snapped back to Frigga and her expression slid into a glower. "I'm a monster, remember?" she replied in Allspeak, pain evident to her own ears. "I'm incapable of love."
"Oh, Loki," Frigga sighed. "Of course you're capable."
"You don't deny I'm a monster," she said tightly. Though she still spoke in Allspeak, Natasha turned at the sound of her voice. There was no expression on her face, no hint of what she was feeling in her eyes. Loki could feel the gaping hole in her chest grow wider, and she almost feared falling into it whole.
Frigga reached across the table to touch Loki's arm, and she stiffened at the touch. "We never wanted you to feel different, Loki. You must understand that. You are part of our family. You are important to us."
"A bargaining chip. An artifact. Something to be used as you saw fit."
She withdrew her hand, and Loki's heart sank. No, she hadn't wanted that to be true, even though she knew it was. Loki had been counting on Frigga to lie, to give her comforting platitudes and boundless love, to chide her for being so very foolish, but there it was. Even Frigga couldn't lie about that any longer.
Her heart-or whatever passed for one in the emptiness inside of her-was breaking.
"You don't understand, Loki," Frigga began softly. Her eyes were downcast, and Loki stared at the intricate knotwork on the borders of the scroll so that she didn't have to see Frigga's expression any longer. It didn't even register immediately that she had switched to English. "I'd lost a child, and you lost your family. You became my son."
The Jotnar feared magic. Asgardians mistrusted it if it was too complicated. Most Midgardians thought it was simply a fairy tale. Who knew what other worlds thought?
"I am not your son," Loki said, though his voice sounded raw and pained.
Frigga looked up at her, lips quirking into a smile. "No. Now you are my daughter. All you feared regarding the seidr doesn't matter any longer."
But no, that wasn't right, was it? Was it?
"What of the people?" Loki asked. "Are the karls so fearsome that an honor guard must squire about royal guests? Has the Allfather lost control of Asgard?"
Something hardened in Frigga's expression. "Do not question your father."
"He is not, is he? He is simply the Allfather to me, ruler of Asgard, the one that put the order of execution on my head. There's no more use for me here other than as a cautionary tale, another reason why the seidr must be confined, must be controlled." Loki's lips pulled back into a snarl. "Isn't that true?" She thought of sneering Mother at her, but her heart was breaking too badly. If she said that, if there was any scorn in that title, she would collapse and cry, never to stop again.
"You are not a cautionary tale," Frigga hissed, rising to her feet. Loki shot to hers, and she caught a tremor in her hands. She clenched them into fists and tried to keep control over her restless body. "You have been gone from this realm, Loki. There are matters at work that you do not know, you cannot understand. Do not condemn Odin for the choices he must make." Frigga's voice dropped. "He is King, and there are more considerations that must be taken into account. It is not his desire alone that must be listened to."
"He desires me dead."
"He does not. But you committed high treason, Loki. Your crimes are innumerable and against multiple realms. It cannot be ignored."
Loki looked at Frigga with empty, lost eyes. "I am what you made me, Mother."
Frigga reacted as if slapped, stepping back from Loki. Loki wanted to cry, her eyes burning and hot, her throat constricting and her chest tight.
"And on that note," Natasha said firmly, coming in and taking Loki's arm roughly. "Time to go."
Natasha all but frog-marched Loki out of the room, Frigga looking after them with a lost expression. Loki wanted to scream or cry, wanted to curse her for what she had done when he had been a boy. She wanted her to deny it. She needed Frigga to deny it, to say that Loki wasn't a monster, hadn't been shaped to be such a horrible thing, it was all a misunderstanding. But Frigga couldn't, could she?
"I told her the same thing," Natasha said quietly a few hallways later. Loki was startled that she had lost her bearings in the palace, for all that she knew where everything was. Everything felt familiar and strange at once, perhaps because she was female now. "I told her she had shaped you into something different, that she couldn't simply wash her hands of guilt. Prejudice and blindness and magic and good intentions... There's a saying. 'The road to hell is paved with good intentions.' Trust me," Natasha said as she finally slowed down and let go of Loki's arm. "I've seen many roads like that."
"I trust you," Loki whispered hoarsely.
"She didn't take it too well then, either. And Odin liked it even less."
"You actually told them what you thought?" Loki asked, incredulous.
"Of course I did," Natasha replied, a haughty edge to her voice. "They needed to hear it, and they didn't invite me here to bat my eyelashes at them. They wanted information about you, and they wanted to think they could coerce me into controlling you."
Loki's breath caught. Hadn't that been what Natasha was doing?
She rolled her eyes, not noticing or not responding to Loki's response. "They really think they can control everyone. Arrogant and extremely misguided."
"They don't control you," Loki said in a broken whisper.
Now Natasha snorted outright. "Of course not." The corner of her lips quirked into a familiar and sensual smile. "Just like you have never really controlled me."
"I'd argue that point, little spider."
Giving Loki a hard shove that sent her stumbling, Natasha proceeded to walk down the hallway with her head held high. "You know the rule about that name, Lara."
"Do the rules even apply here?" Loki asked, brows knit as she hurried to keep up with Natasha.
"Of course they do. They always apply until we mutually decide that they don't any longer. Location doesn't matter."
Sweet relief poured through Loki, and she couldn't help but grin at Natasha's back. "I don't wish to relinquish the agreement."
"I didn't think so. We're heading to my suite," Natasha informed her. Her lips quirked into a smile. "I think you'll be pleasantly surprised by where it is."
Curious, Loki followed her through the halls in the section of the palace reserved for royalty and those held in extremely high esteem. Natasha pushed open a grand set of double doors and went inside, so Loki followed her. She looked around the suite that Natasha had been assigned and was duly impressed. "You did get a prized location. Quite the coup, Natasha."
She made sure to lock the doors before going to the desk in the bedroom. "It suits my needs."
"So modest," Loki said with a smile. She watched Natasha start to remove the throwing knives she had strapped to her forearms, then the dress. Reaching for her, Loki let her fingers trail down the rise of Natasha's breasts as the outer robe was removed. "So beautiful."
"There's no magic in this room," Natasha said, letting the outer layer fall to the floor around her in a whisper of heavy embroidered silk. "And even though the walls are stone, I'm sure there are ears listening at all times."
"Such is the nature of the palace."
"If you want to do more than look, I suggest silencing spells around the bed."
Grinning almost maniacally, Loki proceeded to do just that. The spells were layered one over the other, a thick weaving that would be nearly impossible to undo. It was so much easier than it used to be, something that made her almost want to giggle and show off. There was so much power caught inside of her, pulsing along with her heartbeat. If she could just become more like Natasha, if she could turn Natasha to her purpose, Loki could do anything.
Turning to preen for Natasha's benefit, instead her lips parted at the sight of Natasha standing in front of her wearing nothing but a sheer linen kirtle, her feet bare and hair falling in curls down to her shoulders. She looked ethereal, as if she was the goddess and not Loki.
Not even realizing she had stepped forward, Loki gathered her up in her arms and kissed her, mouth hot and open with need. "It had been too long," she growled against Natasha's lips, one hand cupped around a breast to fondle her through the fine fabric.
Natasha returned the kiss with equal fervor, making Loki's heart sing with wonder. Had she been missed as well? Oh, she would never say such a thing, the tough assassin domme, but Loki had occupied her thoughts far too often before. Why wouldn't Natasha miss Loki?
They stumbled backward toward the bed, falling into the enchanted space that would keep their secret. Loki let out a moan at the feel of Natasha in her arms, real and whole and touching her back, nails scratching through her clothing. The sensation of her was heady, making her breath catch and desire pool deep in her belly. Loki turned their bodies so that Natasha was trapped beneath her, moving to kiss her mouth and neck as she held Natasha's wrists down over her head. Loki's other hand continued to stroke her breast. After a while she shifted her position on the bed to suck on Natasha's breast through the fabric while keeping her wrists down. Natasha hooked one of her legs around Loki's waist, keeping her there, which made her hum happily.
Loki moved her hand to slide it down Natasha's thigh, pushing the kirtle out of the way. She shoved the fabric up and over Natasha's waist, then pulled back to kneel beside her on the bed. "I can use my magic on you here, yes?" Natasha nodded, her kiss swollen lips full and lush. "It's been too long," Loki nearly moaned, feeling herself grow wet as she looked over Natasha's body sprawled beneath her. "I want to taste you, and take you until you scream."
Natasha gave her a sultry smile. "Do your worst, Loki."
Challenge accepted.
Magic unspooled from Loki's body, catching hold of Natasha's and pinning her down spread-eagled in the center of the bed. Loki ripped the kirtle from her torso, the fine fabric parting easily and leaving her skin bare to Loki's gaze. She descended right away to lick at Natasha's folds and clit, using her magic to fill her quim with a full, thick cock pounding into her. It was wonderful to hear Natasha moan, a throaty low sound that told Loki that she was truly feeling the pleasure that she was giving her. Loki licked into her at intervals, then at her clit, the taste of her like wine. Her hands grasped Natasha's thighs or ass, pulling and pushing her in order to delve deeply into her body and make her cry out.
She could see Natasha straining against the magic, wanting to pull against it and run her fingers into Loki's hair, pushing her face right up into her clit. Loki laughed and sucked on Natasha's clit, making her magic push deeper into her quim. It was enough to make Natasha arch her back and groan loudly as she came. Loki thought it was interesting that she generally didn't have much of a filthy mouth during sex, and liked the idea that she did it purely for Loki's benefit. There was something flattering about the idea of Natasha going out of her way for Loki's enjoyment.
Loki didn't stop, wanting to hear Natasha mewl and whine when she was on the edge of oversensitivity, wanting to have her begging. But at the same time, she wanted to feel Natasha touching her, wanted Natasha's mouth on her, too. She took her mouth from Natasha's flesh and watched her chest heave as she struggled for breath. Moving swiftly, Loki positioned her own wet quim over Natasha's mouth and stretched her body out over hers so that she could still lick Natasha's clit. She ran her hands over Natasha's thighs, skimming her nails lightly over the sensitive skin. At this point, there were no words necessary, just the delve of tongue into slick folds and the heady scent of desire. Natasha knew how to pleasure her, even in this form, and Loki knew the touch that worked best for her.
Once the delightful shivers wracked her form, Loki let go of the magic bonds holding Natasha in place. She grasped Loki's ass and sucked hard on her clit, making her gasp and press her cheek against Natasha's thigh as she struggled for breath. "Natasha," she gasped, voice fracturing into a moan of pleasure. Natasha slid a finger into her quim, then two, and Loki shut her eyes as she let out a wail. "More, please, Norns, please, I missed you." Loki was this close to actually saying "my love," but managed to stop herself in time.
Natasha sucked harder on her, then slid another finger into her. Though the angle for her wrist had to be painfully awkward, Natasha started thrusting her fingers in and out. Loki clenched down hard around them, whimpering and moaning, clutching Natasha's thighs tightly. She had to cheat and use her magic to stroke Natasha's breasts and clit, pinching lightly and bringing the same pleasure to Natasha. Loki cried out when she came, her body convulsing slightly before collapsing down on top of Natasha. She didn't resist when she was pushed over onto her back, and Natasha straddled her waist, leaning over her. "Was that your worst?" she asked with a smirk, looking as though she could still continue to fuck Loki over the edge of sanity.
Loki couldn't help but laugh, and pulled her down for a filthy kiss. "Perhaps I'm out of practice."
"I'll say," Natasha replied against her mouth. "I expected more from you."
She rolled over on top of Natasha, arms and legs tangled together. "You don't like it when I use magic on you."
"Oh, I liked your use of it tonight just fine," Natasha purred, sliding one of her hands along Loki's spine until she caught her about the neck. She pulled Loki down for a kiss, then grinned up at her. "I didn't bring along any toys, after all. I figured there wasn't any need to risk awkward questions about them."
"But without your arsenal..."
"I get to use my imagination."
Oh. That sounded unbearably filthy, and Loki had to grin. "There are those that would consider you unnatural," she said as the grin slid from her face.
Natasha didn't seem concerned at all. "I know and I don't care. Let them talk." She pulled Loki down for another kiss, soothing her frazzled nerves. "I know the truth."
"And that is what?" Loki asked. She was almost afraid of the answer.
"That you're mine. Isn't that so?"
Loki's heart sang at her declaration, and she grinned at Natasha, feeling as if her soul would burst. Strange how she used to fear such ties, that she would mistrust them as bindings that would strangle and harm her. With Natasha, Loki felt comforted, protected from herself and her wild excesses. "Oh, yes," she said in a pleased purr. "Yes. And you're mine."
When Natasha didn't deny her claim, Loki grinned even wider, teeth flashing in the dim light of the room. "Are you so quick to publicly state that claim? Have them stare and point and whisper, call you unnatural or strange? Are you ready for the remarks, Natasha?"
She hooked a leg around Loki's waist and pulled her close. "The important question is, are you?" she asked seriously, hands running along her back. "I can handle just about anything. Can you?"
"You think me weak?" Loki asked, nearly snarling in anger. Never mind that she herself wondered if she was weak and sometimes thought she was. It was a different matter for Natasha to think such a thing. Loki couldn't bear that.
"I think you've grown comfortable on Midgard. You might see this as home, but you've changed too much, and this place never does. I don't think you fit in here even a little bit." No emotion in her voice, no inflection to tell Loki how she felt. "I think if you let it, Asgard will break your heart and you won't recover."
Loki thought of falling from the bridge, sinking into the abyss, shattering on impact. Oh yes, it would break her heart to be cast out again, to be relegated to the darkness. Natasha was as uncomfortably perceptive as always.
She bowed her head and let her forehead touch Natasha's. "If I have you, I could."
Natasha's hands traced the slope of her spine, making her shiver. "Then we'll see how it goes."
No promises, no easy consolation. No, that wasn't Natasha's way. But she would stay with Loki, and that was perhaps the most important fact of all.
***
He begged and begged, nearly screaming at the unbearable pain currently coursing through his body. He couldn't bear the thought of his beloved going through this, the terrible pain on the rack and the tools that disfigured her beauty. "I'll give you whatever you want," he promised, knowing it for the lie it was. "Money, food, anything..."
"Because you're so very trustworthy," his torturer sneered. "Because you've kept all of your promises to us before."
"I will this time. You've proven your point! You mean business now!"
The torturer laughed, a harsh and unforgiving sound. He held a red hot poker in hand, freshly pulled from the fireplace. It cast eerie lights and shadows across his face, highlighting the scars across his cheeks. "We've always meant business. You just never wanted to hear it. But now the rest of them will."
The rest of them? If ever he thought he might escape, that comment just dashed his hopes. He screamed and pulled at his restraints, but he had been half starved and tortured already. His mind was close to the breaking point; seeing his wife's battered and broken body had been too much to bear and had taken the fight out of him. She had always been the epitome of beauty and grace, the height of Asgardian ideals. He had done everything for her, everything, spared her nothing, given her every comfort in the Nine Realms.
And now she was dead. And soon enough, he would be, too.
The shadows behind his torturer seemed to part. A strange creature stood there, a golden staff in hand with a blue jewel in it radiating light. "Begin," the creature told his torturer. Only then did he notice that his torturer's eyes were the same blue as the jewel in the staff, and that there was almost an absent gaze behind the sneer.
"We all have a part to play," the karls had said when he was seized from his bedroom the night before. "Time to start singing a new tune."
When the poker met his flesh, it was almost a relief to scream, almost a relief to let loose the last fetters keeping his sanity in place.
***
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To Chapter Two - The Investigation Begins