10. Symkaria

It seemed Zorba was content to have Loki as his chosen consort over the next few weeks; the prince continued to ask for his services each evening. It was a way to slake some of his lust, Loki thought, and Zorba's firm, muscled flesh was pleasing enough. As well, the man's submissive nature allowed Loki to work out his anger during their sessions; he beat the prince's shoulders, back, and tight ass with a riding crop until Zorba sobbed his release word: Symkaria. Loki had no idea what it meant; he only knew it meant he had to stop the punishment and thrust brutally until Zorba cried in release.

And after each scene Loki climbed down to Natasha's room, where she lay covered with a tattered quilt. "I stole something," she whispered as he collapsed onto her bed and nuzzled her neck. "Do you want to see?"

Nose quivering with interest, Loki nodded. The Aesir were so serious and concerned with their courtly reputations; to find someone who would engage in mischief was exquisite. He frowned as she produced a battered book with a plain brown paper cover, reflecting it didn't seem worth the trouble. "What is it?" he asked.

"The tech manual for Mistress von Bardas. It explains each aspect of her physiognomy – I'm going to learn how to pleasure her so thoroughly she literally loses consciousness when I'm done with her."

Loki paged through a few sections. "Literally studying how to fuck your lover? Sounds unbearably tedious. I would not waste the time on Zorba."

Natasha moved closer and whispered in Loki's ear. "She'll want me even more than she does now. Lucia will become so desperate for my touch she will do anything, tell me all her secrets."

Her voice tickled his neck, and Loki shuddered with the sensation. "What will you do then?"

"Do you really have to ask?"

Their faces were so close, a hair's breadth away from a kiss. "No, I suppose I don't."

"You could do the same to Zorba."

"Zorba is already in thrall to me," Loki declared. "Besides, that fool is good for nothing more than slaking some of my lust so I can lie this close to you without losing my sanity." Natasha tried to turn away, but with one sharp movement he got her chin and forced her to look at him. "Don't you see how sweet this agony is? I've wanted you for so long – nearly all my life. But that youthful passion was nothing compared to…"

"Enough." Apparently Natasha wanted nothing of silver words. "I told you not now."

"Which is the exact reason Zorba has his uses, and the only thing compelling me to submit to this ridiculous servitude. And as I was saying, what I once thought was mere desire has grown. Your intelligence and trickery have slain me more thoroughly than any beautiful vision in the water." Loki stopped, thrust her away, and rose from the bed.

"Where are you going?" Natasha propped herself up on her elbows.

With a short, harsh laugh he strode to the window. "I see now I was wrong about slaking my lust. If I stay here any longer I'll have you one way or another." He thrust up the window, swung out onto the ivy, and climbed up to his room.

Loki refused to clean, cook, or serve during the day. He spent the morning and afternoon avoiding the orders from Lucia and Zorba, heart soaring as he escaped one task after another. In his mind he considered what he did for the one-eyed prince enough of a job.

He had just stolen fresh bread from the kitchen when he heard Lucia's sharp voice and the taps of her high heels on the paving stones; with a wicked grin he slunk out onto a balcony and emerged in the large room running through the center of the palace. The place shivered with the lonely sensation of an ancient room in shafts of dusty light; one gleaming arrow of sun picked out the tiny, faceless statue hidden near a wall. Loki touched the thing gently with the pad of his thumb; it seemed something waited within and called to him. Pure fancy? Or actual spirit? He had learned not to ignore his feelings when it came to hidden spirits; his experiences with trees and rocks had taught him that much. Thus, perhaps…

A stream of breath on his neck. Loki jumped and saw Natasha behind him. "Not many people can do that," he said with a shaky laugh.

"Sneak up on you? No one can do it to me." Her eyes glinted with smug mischief.

"Now that is a challenge."

His imagination was caught; Loki forgot the stone until Natasha covered his hand with hers. "Looking at the little statue? It's the only thing that seems real in here, if you know what I mean. Everything else is… inauthentic. Implausible."

"Yes." Loki caressed the place where the thing's face had worn away. "I was just thinking it feels like something waits within."

"Hey, you two." Beaming with triumph, Hundred bore down on them and wound his arms around their waists. "Admiring Sif's Colossus?"

Loki froze. "What did you call it?"

Hundred shrugged. "It's kind of a cruel joke, since the thing is so tiny. Always been called that, though."

"Sif's Colossus," Natasha repeated. She gave Loki one penetrating glance. "How old is it?"

"I dunno. Before my time and a lot older than that, I'd bet. Anyway, how about drinks later?"

Natasha twisted and gave the boy a warm hug. "Sounds great. I'll see if I can get bath tokens from Lucia for the three of us."

"Really?" Hundred's eyes sparkled. "That would be – really? You want me there too?"

"Yes." Her voice was firm. "We want you there too."

At the dance in Prince Zorba's arms, Loki permitted the man to whisper in his ear. "I've been so naughty," the prince hissed. "You'll need to tie me up, work me over for hours."

Across the room, Loki watched Natasha break away from Lucia's kiss and smooth the woman's hair with her hands. Her eyes locked with Loki's, and he felt a strange sense of security, as though he had found a warm place to stay during a torrential downpour. Other couples swam in and out of his vision, but they were shadows; only Natasha's blue-green gaze and red curls had any meaning.

Zorba pushed his erection against Loki's hip. Lucia tilted her head and kissed Natasha full on her mouth, in front of everyone. It was the rule of the castle, Loki began to realize – if visitors had enough money anything was possible. Over Lucia's shoulder Natasha caught his glance and held it – steady, intent, overwhelmingly true.

As soon as he left Zorba's rooms, Natasha appeared in a dark corner of the hallway, beckoning to him. "Hundred is waiting for us in the baths," she whispered. "I thought we could talk on the way."

Loki groaned. "Do we really have to bathe with the boy? I want to sleep on your shoulder until dawn."

"Did Zorba tax your energies?"

"No, indeed. In truth I have never found a lover who can outlast me – they always grow tired before I do."

Natasha nodded. "It's the same for me."

"Is that so?" Loki reached for her, but she avoided him.

"Don't get all excited right before our bath. Hundred will get the wrong ideas. In any case, I wanted to ask you about the Colossus. You snapped to attention when Hundred said the name, like a dog catching the scent of a racoon."

"What is 'racoon?' And Dog is not very complimentary."

"Like a wolf on the prowl, then. That sexy enough for you?" Natasha grinned at him, unperturbed. She had a flight of tiny, golden freckles misting under her eyes like a dancer's veil, and despite the lengthy session with Zorba Loki suddenly felt weak with desire.

"Much better. And it was the name I found intriguing – Sif. She was Thor's lover and the reason he came here in the first place, to search for her when she went missing." He snuck his arm around her waist, and this time she allowed it.

"Sif." Natasha rolled the word on her tongue. "A beautiful name. But the statue has been here for decades, maybe centuries. Did you see its face? All weathered away, as though countless people touched it or it was sandblasted. If your brother's girlfriend just disappeared, it couldn't be a connection."

"I think time works differently here." Cautiously Loki got one thumb under her breast and stroked; Natasha didn't seem to notice. "When did I first appear in your water bowl?"

"Huh. Maybe a few weeks ago?" She wrinkled her nose, considering, making the freckles dance.

"Natasha, that was centuries ago for me."

She stopped and gripped his robe to look up into his face. "Just how old are you?"

Loki tilted back his head. "Nearly seven centuries." Her mouth fell open, and he added, "Now you think my story is the work of insanity? Are you convinced my mind has crumpled under my evil deeds?"

"Get over yourself." Natasha bumped his side in a friendly fashion. "First of all, I noticed you were growing older pretty quickly, so that backs up your story. Second, you're not that evil. Third, if you tell me a faceless statue holds the spirit of your friend, I've seen stranger things in my time. Now, what do you need me to do?"

Stopping suddenly, Loki pulled her into his arms. "Be you." His voice was muffled in her ridiculous, tattered robe. She should have been wearing the finest furs and velvet Asgard could offer, and instead she shivered in cheap silks and threadbare slippers. "Just be you."

A struggle set her free. "Seriously. How will you free Sif's spirit from that pile of granite?"

"In truth, I cannot. My magic is gone…"

There was a whoop at the other end of the hall and Hundred ran to tackle them. The boy cast himself into Natasha's arms, then Loki's, then Natasha's again. "You are like a spaniel," Loki grumbled.

"A spaniel with bubbles. I stole a bottle of champagne for us – it's piss-warm, but it'll get us happy." Hundred pushed a bottle into Loki's hand, thrust his arms through theirs and dragged them to the lift, singing some tune about Lions and Tigers and Bears.

And as he accompanied the boy into the baths and reclined next to him with Natasha on the other side, Loki regarded them both with half-closed eyes. In the middle of the knottiest problem he had ever come across, below floors filled with shoddy whores and grasping heads of state as he and Natasha lay in an underground bath drinking lukewarm wine, somehow it seemed he had found something.

Hundred tilted his head back and started in on a long story about his client. Under the cover of half-hearted bubbles in the bath, Loki stretched his legs and caressed Natasha's ankle with his toes. She extended one arm around the kid, careless of her soapy breasts pressing against him, and fondled Loki's wet curls with her elegant fingers. Lulled by the heat of the water, the wine, and her touch he allowed his aching heart to uncurl out of the hard knot it had been tied into for so long.

in the middle of a long ramble about blowjobs and how he had the best mouth in town, the boy fell asleep. Natasha slipped out of the bath and wound her robe around her wet flesh. Loki picked up the boy in his arms and lifted him out of the water and bore Hundred to the door with all the gentleness he once showed Fenrir as a cub; Natasha stopped him there to trace the outline of his lips with her thumb. As he whispered quick words of love, unable to hold back any longer, Loki realized he had found a strange little family.