Ten months, six days and twenty-seven minutes that was how long he had been residing inside of these alabaster walls. It was a large enough chamber filled with all the amenities that would befit the sitting room of a royal prince. It housed a comfortable chair, a book case packed with leather bound volumes, a small desk and even an easel if he ever wished to take up the hobby once again that he had so fancied in his youth. A chestnut table reposed in the adjacent corner with a pitcher of water and a porcelain bowl filled with the finest fruits that Asgard had to offer. There was a long lush couch that lined the far wall which, of course, was in fact where he slept since this was not a sitting room at all but the meticulously crafted cell that he was to spend out the rest of his days. Loki knew that all of this stately luxury was just a part of the personal taunt from Odin. A royal chamber fit for a king as his confinement complete with a glass wall to give the passerby's a perfect view of the fallen prince.
He would have preferred tortures in the darkened dungeons than this humiliation. He was nothing more than a spectacle for the Aesir to gawk at. He was truly no more than another old relic that the All-Father was stowing away for the moment that he might finally have a use for him after all. Odin never once came down to visit him since he had been sentenced and neither had Thor. His mother, on the other hand, would not be deterred. No matter how often he told her to leave him alone. She insisted on coming every day without fail to sit outside his cell. She would speak to him while he pretended to ignore her and read a book. It was a daily ritual. The woman was relentless. She would tell him about her day or reminisce about his youth. Insisting on continuing to play the part of the dutiful mother but he refused to cave in to sentiment. Too many things had happened in the years since he discovered the truth of his parentage. He had hardened his heart long ago. It was as frozen as the lands of his birth. There was no room in it anymore for anything but hatred and a longing for revenge.
Loki sneered at the soldiers as they passed by on their usual rounds before strutting back towards the serving table. He trailed his long, slender fingers along the fruit. The meals were replenished at timely intervals conjured by the magic of his most gracious host. His own powers were impeded by the walls around him. He could still conjure things himself albeit nothing that would aid him in escape or cause physical harm to him or others. No this cell was the perfect holding place for one such as he. The All-Father had thought of every contingency it seemed.
Loki tilted his head as he heard the soft sound of a woman's gate descending down the hallway. He exhaled audibly. Was it that time again already? He reclined against the couch; his legs crossed in front of him as he opened his palms and conjured a new book. He began to read although he knew that the moment that his mother's voice reached his ears that he would be unable to concentrate. Still he would not move his gaze from the pages in front of him. He would never again be the weak fool that had been so desperate for the approval of his faux family.
He could sense her appearance out of the corner of his eye as she stood in front of the glass wall. She remained standing. It was the first oddity that he discerned as he attempted to read the initial line of the volume that he held in front of him. A guard always brought a chair for her. She always sat. Sometimes she even did needle point as she carried on her one way conversation. Occasionally she even drew pictures to pass the time. A love of drawing and paints had been something that he and his mother had both shared. The silence began to grate on his nerves. What was she up to? Why wasn't she speaking or sitting down? Why was she simply standing there staring at him so quietly? His curiosity got the best of him as he finally turned away from his book and looked up at the figure in front of him. His dark green eyes widened in shock as he took in the sight of the woman before him.
Her hair was much longer than when he had seen her last. The long, red curls fell well past her shoulders as she stood there scrutinizing him with her cold, blue gaze. She was dressed in the fashion of an Asgardian warrior. She wore a pale lavender silk shift with long sleeves underneath a dark purple tunic that was cinched at the waist with a deep blue belt. It accentuated the natural curves of her figure in the most enticing of ways. Loki found himself licking his lips subconsciously as his gaze travelled down her body to the tight grey pants and knee high black boots that molded so sensuously against her legs. If it was possible she had grown even more beautiful than when he had seen her last. He immediately abraded himself internally for the thought. She was nothing but a lowly mortal not even worth a second glance. Yet, that did nothing to stop the myriad of lustful thoughts that had flooded him at her presence. He narrowed his eyes as he forced himself to concentrate on more pressing matters. Namely what was an Avenger doing in this realm? He couldn't imagine what in the world this mortal woman would be doing in Asgard at all. Let alone standing in front of him.
"Agent Romanoff to what do I owe the immense displeasure of your company?" Loki drawled in his silky accent as he rested the open book in his lap. Her lips upturned in the faintest of smiles as she took a step closer.
"As charming as ever," Natasha remarked coolly. "Is this what passes for a prison here? It looks more like the bedroom of a pampered prince to me."
"Would you like to switch places?" the trickster smiled evilly as he continued to recline along the soft cushion of the sofa. He remembered vividly their initial meeting upon the helicarrier. He had thought that he had beaten her, sliced open her fears and left her broken and bare but it had all been a ruse. It had been no more than a clever manipulation to retrieve information from him. She had won that battle but she wouldn't win the war, he thought ominously. The image of her standing above him with the rest of her cohorts while she held his scepter in her hands was forever burned in his brain. She had been a tiny thorn in his side all throughout his excursion on Midgard. He could still recall her whispering in the ear of the archer before Thor had taken him from that realm handcuffed and muzzled like a common criminal. She had probably been gloating no doubt, making some stupid Midgardian jest at his expense. He would be the one to have the last laugh. Not just in regards to this peddling mortal but for everyone who had crossed him. He was a patient man and his moment would come.
"Let's skip the small talk," the black widow stated in her emotionless tone. "I've come a long way and for a very specific reason. I need your help."
"Eh heh heh heh," the young god laughed mirthfully as he tossed the book onto the couch and rose to a sitting position. "You must be truly desperate to come to me for help."
"Yes, the situation is very dire or I wouldn't be here," Natasha admitted honestly, her fingertips grazing lightly over the glass. He couldn't help but wonder what they would feel like moving across his skin. "There was a battle with Hydra..."
"What is Hydra?" Loki interrupted, annoyed that he was allowing himself to be lured in by her appearance. He was above such carnal distractions.
"It is a criminal organization that we have been coming to blows with on and off for years." The black widow divulged. He could see the strength and determination in her sapphire eyes. For a woman who was so far away from her own universe she showed no sign of nervousness or trepidation. He couldn't help but be impressed by her demeanor albeit reluctantly. "In our latest confrontation they injected two of our men with a strange poison. We were able to stop the threat against our country and complete our mission but our scientists can't create a serum to fix what ails my comrades. They can soothe some of the symptoms and give them a few extra months but if we don't get the proper remedy then they will die. I need you to assist me in getting the cure."
"The death of two men? This is the reason that you've crossed realms and stand in front of the lion's den?" Loki smirked. "I'm sure you can find two suitable replacements to fill their positions."
"I'm willing to offer you a deal," Natasha continued ignoring his remark. "I need you to take me to Muspelheim. There is a blue flower called the flamedragon that is indigenous to that realm with it we can make the medicine that they need. Help me and you will have your freedom."
"Why do I find it so hard to believe that the All-Father would be willing to release me in exchange for the life of two petty humans?" the trickster rasped, indignantly. What kind of fool did she think he was? And what was the point of all this really?
"You're right. Odin doesn't believe that the need of so few is worth such a great risk but lucky for you Fury has different ideas." Natasha revealed as she raised her hands in the air slightly and turned around for a moment as if to draw attention to her appearance. "Why do you think I'm dressed like this? I didn't receive permission from Odin to be here. He already turned me down just as Fury figured he would. It is your mother that snuck me in to see you. She thinks you deserve the chance to prove you can change."
"You mean she wishes for me to change backwards, to regress into the shadows as the lowly second son." Loki hissed as he rose up and strutted toward the glass. "Well, no thank you. Besides, this exchange is pointless without Odin's consent this confinement of mine cannot be opened." He watched as she pulled a tiny pin from her belt and etched the shape of a small square along the clear partition. The glass evaporated on contact. Loki stuck his finger along the edge of the small hole that she had made in his cell as he quirked an eyebrow in disbelief. "Interesting trick but it is a little too small to be of much assistance to me."
"Give me your word that you will help me get the ingredients that I need and bring the cure back to Earth and I will open it completely." Natasha offered as she stared at him stonily.
"My word? You are going to open this door simply on my word?" the trickster inquired skeptically. "Tell me who these two men are that Shield could be so destitute to have you make such an offer?"
"Does it matter? Your freedom for your promise and a handshake," the black widow reiterated with a sideways smile as she put her hand through the small opening. "That's how we seal the deal on Earth. Your mother tells me that you are a man of your word or at least you used to be and since I'm low on options I'm willing to take the chance. Besides, you won't get past the corridor without my help. The wards on your magic are not just inside there or didn't you know that?" His emerald eyes scrutinized her hand as she dangled it in front of him waiting for him to grasp it. How far reaching were the binding spells that the All-Father had laid out against his use of magic? The moment that he felt his full strength returning to him, she could forget about him lifting a finger to help her or her sickly friends.
"It might not matter but I want to know," Loki contended. His voice as smooth as silk as he stared down at his right hand and debated his options.
"Steve Rogers and Clint Barton," Natasha answered her voice betraying the first hint of honest emotion that he had ever heard from her lips. "Now do we have a deal or not?"
"It is a deal. You have my word." He smiled with a devilish glint in his eyes as he enclosed his hand around hers. "When do we start?" A sudden pain shot through his arm as he released her hand abruptly and stared down at his palm. A strange ruin appeared like a dragon made out of fire. "What in the name of Hel is this?" he seethed.
"It's your promise. A gift from your mother," Natasha revealed in her usual stoic demeanor as she began to trace the remaining glass with the magical pin that she held in her hand. "You are tied to me now by your word. The moment you break our deal than you will be sent back here but if you help me and my friends live than I will give you your freedom just like I promised." Frigga had placed some sort of enchantment on the black widow's hand. Tied to her? What exactly did that mean? He stepped through the opening that she made and his blood began to boil with even greater umbrage the moment his feet touched down on the marbled surface.
"There were no wards outside of that prison." His voice near shaking in his anger and irritation at having fallen so easily for her little ruse. He could feel his full magic returned to him on the instant that he passed through her magical opening.
"No but I'd be careful what you do with your new found power, Loki," Natasha grinned. "Remember if you break your promise to me you will be right back inside there. Isn't magic fun? We should probably get going before the guards return. Follow me, Frigga showed me a hidden way out of here. You are no use to me if you get yourself caught so soon."
"Be careful, little spider," Loki snipped as he loomed over her. "There won't be anything stopping me from squashing you once we've cured your friends of their ailment."