NOTE - This is the final book in the Celestial Twins series, told in a series of chapters that alternate between Sif's and Natasha's points of view. I've written out of my comfort zone here, but throughout it all Loki and Natasha just can't stay away from each other. Promise.
1 Sif
"The entire suite of kitchens needs be scrubbed from top to bottom," Sif declared. "I have never seen such filth in all my days."
One boy sniggered and jerked a thumb over his back. "Might be as filthy as the AllFather's mind and heart…"
His voice was cut off when she grasped his collar and held him up against the wall with one arm; as usual, Sif couldn't help exulting in the strength bolting throughout her frame. "Another word about the king and I will slit your belly. Go and fetch the buckets, boy."
"We did already set the maids to scrubbing," a harassed cook at the ovens confessed, "but they said they could not remove the stains from the floors."
"Oh, did they?" Sif raised one eyebrow. "Inform them with the future Queen's compliments that I shall inspect the rooms later, and if I see a single spot I will take to the scrubbing brushes myself. And," she added, "if I am able to clean up what they leave behind they shall spend a night in the stocks."
The cook's eyes glinted with something like relief. "Aye, my Lady," she replied.
Sif, certain the kitchens would be gleaming by that evening, continued into the halls. One chore down, with many to follow… She eyed the crumbling pillars, the dusty tapestries, unswept stairs. Dirty plates were on the tables; a pile of books rested on one chair. The entire Palace had to be restored; she refused to rule over nothing less than a glorious realm.
Sweeping the books into her arms, she made several mental notes and marched on. In the main courtyard she came upon a very weary-looking Natasha trailing in after a group of guards. "We expected you yesterday!" Sif cried. "Come to my chambers, where we can talk at length." She dismissed the guards with a sharp order to inspect the garrisons and, balancing the dusty books in the crook of her elbow, put one arm around Natasha's waist. "It pleases me beyond telling to see you," she couldn't help whispering into the red curls.
In Sif's former rooms, Natasha seemed to relax somewhat. "This case with Karnilla and the asylum is so tangled you wouldn't believe it," she said as Sif gave her a tankard of ale. "I still can't figure out why I was taken into the hospital in the first place. Loki's term there makes some sense, though, if the one behind it all is who we suspect."
"Amora." Sif lifted her own tankard for a long draught, considering. "Perhaps she thought she could rid herself of you both in one blow?"
"But it sabotaged her own plan." Natasha shook her head. "If Loki had been there on his own, she could have kept him inside for a much longer time – entertained with pretty nurses and subdued by the drugs. Why throw a SHIELD agent into the mix? That's what I still don't understand."
"Perhaps she underestimated you," Sif mused. "Many consider mortals to be weak, insignificant creatures – myself included, before I met you." Idly she picked through the books she had found below in the palace and dusted them off with her sleeve.
Natasha nodded. "It is good to be here – and this ale is amazing! And strong. It's actually making me a little tipsy."
Sif's heart lurched at the lines of exhaustion around the agent's eyes. She set the little pile to one side and tugged Natasha's chair closer to her own so she could kiss the pale skin of the lovely Midgardian. "Stay here for longer this time. You always rush back so quickly."
"Did I hear someone mention ale and getting tipsy?" Loki, a mischievous grin on his face, entered the room. He strode up to Natasha, seized her shoulders, and pulled her out of her chair to embrace her closely. "And has Sif already asked you to stay?"
"I have." In truth Sif was worried by Natasha's appearance – never had the agent looked so pale, so drawn. Even her face seemed thinner. "Let us dine here, and you can rest this night in my bed if you wish."
"We cannot all fit in that plank!" Loki indicated Sif's maiden rooms with one contemptuous sweep of his arm. "And certainly I shall be by your side all night, Agent. That goes without saying."
"Food," Sif insisted before pulling a long bellrope.
She was glad to see some color come to Natasha's cheeks as they ate, but in the middle of a rambling theory about Sylvie Lushton the agent fell asleep suddenly, her head coming to rest on the arm of her chair. Sif caught her as she slid and Loki picked her up in his arms. "It looks as though it will be your bed after all," he acceded.
She caught the disappointment in his tone. "Come, get her between the sheets."
Once Natasha was settled, Sif drew up a pair of stools and smoothed a red curl off the agent's face. Loki took the other seat and held Natasha's hand in both of his. "You love her, do you not?" he asked.
"I…" Sif stopped and pressed her lips against Natasha's fingers where they lay in Loki's palm. "She is a friend – perhaps the first I have had since Thor left Asgard. I did not realize how alone I was until she came to us." Steadily she regarded him. "In truth I am grateful for the peace she has brokered between you and me, Loki. Our quarrel was long and bitter – I am glad to put it aside."
His quick grin appeared. "Loki!" he exclaimed. "Usually you call me Silvertongue. Natasha can work miracles if you see me as a rational being and not a filthy pest."
"You will always be a filthy pest." His grin widened at her quip. "But now you are like an annoying brother – one I can put up with since we do share some love together at last – love for another, 'tis true, but shared no less for that."
Loki raised one eyebrow. "I do not think brothers and sisters would share the things we do with Natasha." His gaze intensified. "And what if Thor returns to Asgard?"
Sif was annoyed to feel herself blush. "And what of it? He has chosen his new life, and our betrothal is already announced. That chapter of my life is ended."
"Is it?" Loki folded his arms and spread his legs. "And are you quite satisfied with this strange marriage?"
"I am happy to do what I can for Asgard, and well you know it." She claimed one of his hands where it lapped over Natasha's fingers. "I suppose I must admit this - I also enjoy our time together with this lovely mortal."
He nodded and studied Natasha's pale, still face. "This is good – not quite what I had once hoped, but better than ever I dared to imagine for myself." They sat and listened to the sounds of the Palace – a faraway lute accompanied by a bard's husky voice, and the stamp of boots from guards marching in a courtyard below. "May I ask you a question, Sif?"
Her eyes snapped open; she had nearly nodded off. "Yes, but make it quick before I climb under the blankets and go to sleep."
"How does my love for Natasha affect you? Are you angered? Jealous? Or simply exasperated?"
Sif couldn't keep her voice from trembling with laughter. "Those are all dreadful choices. In truth to see you with her gives me hope – it is the best of you, Loki. It makes me think you might have some measure of rational sense."
He gave her a smile, unusual in its tenderness. "Yes, this is good," he repeated. "If we continue thus, I foresee a sort of love between you and me – perhaps the type of affection that grows between those forced together by circumstance who fight for the same ends."
Surprised, Sif touched his hand again. "I can almost imagine it when you speak thus. We both love two things: the glory of Asgard and Natasha."
Loki gestured at the agent with his chin. "Crawl in the sheets with her, and I will watch over you both."
As she lay down and put her arms around Natasha to warm herself, Sif thought she had never heard such admirable words from so unlikely a source.
"Sylvie!" The name erupted as a shriek. Natasha sat up in the bed, her eyes wide with horror.
Dragged from a recurring dream of spitting a Jotunn with her spear, Sif blinked. "You are safe here with me. And Loki."
Natasha looked around the room, as though to reassure herself she was in a known place, not in the center of her own dream battle. "Thank goodness." She passed one hand over her face. "Sorry to wake you – I have violent nightmares sometimes. You might as well know it now rather than find out about it later."
"All of us do," Loki muttered, one long arm stretched lazily around Natasha's waist. Sif watched as the agent's face brightened before she forced her usual insouciance into her manner with him.
"You are going to have one hell of a sore back tomorrow."
"Let me come in with you in that case." He climbed on top of her, preparing to bite and tease her neck.
Sif thought she might give them some time alone together, but she refused to be kicked out of her room. "For the sake of an old soldier's liver, take yourselves off to Loki's chambers. I want to sleep for ten more hours at least."
Loki instantly murmured compliance, but Natasha felt for Sif's thigh and drew a line up to the place that made her shiver with pleasure. "Oh, no. I'm not leaving you behind – I've been fantasizing about you two all week."
"Well, then." Loki's voice was breathless with laughter and desire. "Perhaps there are some advantages to a small bed after all – we shall be pressed very close together by necessity."
"Tell us about Sylvie Lushton." Sif sat behind Natasha in Loki's huge bathtub with her legs wound around the girl's waist and applied oil of lemons to her red curls. Gods, was there anything more pleasurable than the sensation of that wet backside pressed against Sif's core? She couldn't help kissing her white flesh, smoothing perfumed soap over the firm breasts.
Loki lounged on the other end of the bath, his long arms spread out on its rim; under the bubbles he was probably tantalizing Natasha's delicious slit. At that thought Sif simply had to see; sure enough, his toes wriggled against those slippery folds. The sensation of his feet and her hands together on the woman they both loved was electric – Sif felt she as though she was stroking her own clit, as she had so many times in the past when time spent in Thor's company left her unfulfilled. For how many centuries had she been pleasuring herself, alone in her bed? Apart from some short affairs she had with a worthy guard or a dashing soldier, there was nothing. And now she was caught in a sinful, exciting game, one she had never imagined for herself: so strange it made her shudder as she and Loki grinned at each other over Natasha's wet ringlets.
Were his feet a zone marked for erotic play? Curious, Sif slid one finger under his heel; when Loki gasped and let his head fall back, eyes slitted with pleasure, she nodded. Yes, indeed they were.
"This feels wonderful." Natasha let her head fall back as well, pillowed on Sif's breasts. "I've been chasing Sylvie's trail across strip malls and trailer parks without much sleep – or food, for that matter."
"I thought you looked more slender than usual." Sif returned to stroking Natasha's breasts, circling the dark nipples with her thumbs. "You sleep with two people at once - we need to fatten you up so there is enough to go around."
With a shout of laughter Loki sat forward. "Agent, what have you done to our warrior maiden? Such jokes and tenderness all at once – I barely know you any longer, Sif."
"Simply recognized the bravery and beauty that was always there." Natasha turned her head to capture Sif's lips in a deep kiss; at that sight Loki got on all fours.
"I want a kiss too."
He pulled her chin; Sif could see his tongue slide into her mouth. Natasha broke the embrace and fixed him with her firm, green gaze. "Why do you never kiss each other, you two? No, don't glare at me like that – go on, give it a try. You're going to be married, after all."
Sif was about to exclaim with annoyance, get out of the bath and get dressed to leave them to it, when Loki sat up and took her face in both hands to capture her mouth. And there was his tongue – well named Silvertongue, she thought dazedly. A tiny whimper escaped her, and she pushed herself more firmly against Natasha's bottom. A pulse started between her legs, making her quiver throughout. When Loki released her she felt warmth spreading over her face and neck.
Natasha's eyes were filled with tears. "Sweetheart, you must not cry!" Sif caressed her slim waist under the water.
"No – I'm not sad." Natasha laughed and swiped her face with soapy fingers. "You look so beautiful together - actually, this is the happiest I've been in a long, long time. Sorry. I didn't mean to get all sentimental and shit."
Seeing that Loki was about to burst forth with a long series of fervent vows, Sif interrupted; she knew Natasha had reached her emotional limit. "Sylvie Lushton. Let us talk about her at length after we are all dressed. I cannot help thinking she is the crux of the affair. All ends lead to Amora and Asgard, but it appears nothing could have been done without the mortal."
With a disappointed sigh, Loki sat back. Under the water Sif felt him resume his caresses to Natasha's legs. "I have tried to banish the enchantress before," he began. "She is too powerful to sweep out of the realm, and too dangerous to suffer in our land. It is the thorniest conundrum I have as AllFather."
"Speaking of Amora, is the opiate cleaned out of Asgard?" Natasha asked.
"The powdered scourge? Loki took care of it."
"I did." A pleased smile settled on his lips. "And Sif has not been idle either – she cleaned the kitchens."
"Hold your tongue! Try and satisfy a host of important visitors without filling their bellies. The kitchens are the heart of any house or palace, if it comes to that."
Natasha chuckled and settled herself more comfortably on Sif's shoulder. "I just don't see why I was brought into the asylum in the first place."
"I am very glad you were." Loki winked at her.
"Yes, but…"
"Were you about to start another quest at the time? Perhaps whoever it was – let us say Amora, for the sake of brevity - wanted you off it and held safely until some foul purpose was accomplished?" Sif hazarded.
"That's a really good point!" Natasha sat up and pulled Sif in for another intimate caress. "You're so intelligent – why didn't I think of it? The thing is I don't remember, but …"
They were interrupted by a servant sidling in the door with an apologetic look in his eye. "I told you we were not to be disturbed!" Loki sat up with a murderous look in his eyes.
"Begging the Allfather's pardon, but I was sent with news that could not wait."
"Well? What is it?" Sif demanded.
"It is the AllFather's brother. Prince Thor has arrived, and he has requested an immediate audience with you and the future Queen." The man bowed and left quickly with his eyes fixed firmly on his feet.
Loki closed his eyes, shook his head. "Impeccable timing, as usual. Some things never do change." He stood up, his erection curling against one thigh and cascades of bubbly water coursing down his legs, but Sif held out one hand.
"Stay a moment. Why should we rush away at the prince's bidding? Let Thor bide his time while we finish what we have started here. I am tired of his attitude that anyone will rush to his side as soon as he crooks one finger."
Natasha turned, startled. "Are you certain? Don't do anything on my account…"
"I am not. It is on our account, all three. Loki, you are ready for her – that much is quite obvious."
He took in a long, unsteady breath. "This new side to you, Sif – it almost unmans me. And I am always ready." Water splashed on the floor as he surged forward, pressing lovebites on Natasha's neck, followed by kisses on Sif's shoulders.
"Fuck, this is so hot," Natasha gasped as he slid inside her and wrapped his arms around Sif's waist, holding them close.
She couldn't help shouting and thrusting up under the pair as they moved against her. Natasha's and Loki's hands reached down to move against Sif's moist center, growing wetter even underwater as the three of them twined in the steam. The words "I love this," were forced out of Sif's throat. Someone kissed her so sweetly tears pricked her eyelids; she had no idea who it was, nor did she care.
"I do too," Natasha moaned before her body shook in a jolting release.
"And I," Loki cried as he arched into her, into their arms, into both of them.
