11 Burglar
"He sleeps." Loki entered the kitchen with a bucket of Ivan's slops, thrust open the back door, and hurled the contents into the thick grasses with an expression of extreme distaste.
"That was well done," Natasha commented mildly. She had just brought in a fresh satchel of herbs from the woods and was engaged in sorting them at the ancient table where she had eaten bread and milk long ago as a child. "Who would have thought Prince Loki could make such an excellent healer?"
He rinsed his hands in the fresh water she had fetched from the springhouse, using a lot of soap and drying them carefully on an old towel. Loki insisted on cleanliness throughout the hunting lodge if he was to save Ivan's life. "Natasha," he began.
"Mm?" Her lips moved as she counted the sprigs of Devil's Snare.
Loki sat opposite her at the table. "I was thinking of reforming the healers throughout Asgard when we win back the throne from that Hel's bitch. It seems the current system is to wave a wand over the patients, chant some mystical words, and charge a large sum for doing so."
Natasha looked up, surprised. "An excellent scheme!"
"You seem surprised."
She tilted her head on one side, considering him. "You were so reserved when I met you, so intent on your own pleasure and solitude." There were many layers to the prince, she now saw.
He seemed to read her mind. "Like a book, perhaps, with a stained cover – and yet a marvelous story waits within." Loki nudged her foot with his, and she smiled. They had no real time for flirts nor lovemaking over the days in the hunting lodge, since one of them had to watch Ivan's sleep in shifts. When her guardian awoke, they had to change his sheets and nightclothes, take care of the most basic physical functions – bathing, slops…it was foul work at times, with no end in sight and no kisses to make it any lighter.
Natasha was about to tell him some of her thoughts and give Loki a sprig of rare praise, when a crash was heard in the room above. Her heart froze, and she met his startled gaze with her own. "What was it?" she started.
Loki rose and pressed her shoulder. "Stay here," he cautioned.
"Nonsense! I can't just sit and…"
He stopped in the doorway and raised one finger. "Do as I say, Natasha, or I will throttle you. Do you understand?" Murder written on his face, Loki cursed and disappeared up the steps that were so old they bowed in the centers from centuries of use.
With a long grumble about the arrogance of princes, Natasha sat back at the table. She had lost her place in counting, and she spewed a few curses of her own as she swept the herbs together. Upstairs there was a series of thumps that had her reaching for her hunting knife; just as she was about to ignore his command and bound after him the sounds were succeeded by Loki's laughter and his rapid steps hurtling down the stairs.
He burst into the room, holding up a small tabby cat by the scruff of its neck. "Behold our intruder! I suppose it explains the lack of mice."
The cat twisted and snarled in his long fingers; Natasha hurried to fetch a pot of gravy she had cooling for dinner. "And it explains the missing rabbit leg yesterday! Well, Miss Thief, what have you got to say for yourself?" She poured out a saucer of the gravy and held it out for the cat.
Twitching its whiskers, the tabby slid out of Loki's hand towards the saucer. Its hunger overcame its wild nature, and with growls of satisfaction the cat began to eat. Loki knelt to watch the animal, rays of laughter around his eyes. When the cat finished the meal it seemed to consider him a friend; the tabby walked to the prince and began to polish its head against his tall boots.
"'Twould seem I have a rival!" Natasha snickered.
"What shall we call our new friend?"
"Hm. She is as light as a feather, but that is far too lovely a name for such a thief." Cautiously Natasha held out her hand; the tabby sniffed it several times before returning to Loki's boots.
"Indeed. She is a most accomplished burglar."
"Burglar. She is our own Burglar."
Loki stood and lifted Burglar into his arms; instantly the cat began to purr loudly. "Very well, but outside for your business. I've cleaned enough slops for one day."
Astrid had sent the best of supplies – dried fruits, a small store of spices, preserved eggs, more oats and barley, strings of onions, hard cheese, pemmican and ship's biscuits. She hadn't bothered with more luxurious fare such as weevil-prone flour or sugar. With Natasha's bow, the huntress was able to supplement the food and create an array of soups and stews as well as the eternal porridge, even though Loki complained about the dearth of bread and cakes when he had a moment to consider his belly in between tending to Ivan.
Natasha put some of her latest concoction into a bowl, added tea and ship's biscuit, and bore the tray to the sickroom. The sound of voices within made her pause on the threshold. "She was abused daily," Ivan was saying. "When I took her as my daughter, at first she was like your new cat – mistrustful, almost feral. We took to hunting as a way to work out her violence and righteous anger, and she was a natural from the start."
"I know you are there," Loki said in a louder voice.
She frowned and opened the door with her hip before placing the tray carefully on Ivan's bedside table. "Must you gossip about me like old church wardens?" she demanded.
Entirely at his ease, Loki stretched out his long legs and stroked Burglar, who had coiled into a round fur button on his lap. "Ivan has promised to teach me to hunt when he recovers."
"Wait until all of Asgard knows you are alive for that," she snapped.
Ivan chuckled before picking up the tea and sniffing it. "Why must it taste like winter drawers dunked in boiling water?"
"Drink it anyway while you complain. It'll do you good, and your sharp tongue will add spice," Loki said.
"Humph. Will you grant me a game of Knave's Ha'penny if I do?"
"Will you beat me hollow again?" Loki turned to Natasha with a wry grin. "I already owe your stepfather two chests of gold."
"How about some sleep first for our patient?" she asked.
"I'm tired of sleeping, and this bed is becoming a dungeon. I'm ready to get on my own two feet and go into the woods, feel a knife in my hands, the wind on my face…"
"Waxing poetic and complaints to boot," Loki commented. "It seems you continue to thrive, Ivan."
This proved correct. After a few more days, Ivan was able to get up and sit by the fire "like an old woman," he complained after Natasha loaded her stepfather with blankets over his knees. Next Loki permitted him to get up and walk, and at last Ivan was allowed outside to sit on the steps and drowse in the late summer sun. Burglar joined him there, and the old man stroked the cat on the stone step. Natasha, watching them through the wavy panes of glass in the kitchen window, imagined they both twitched their ears at sounds in the forest: two predators ready for the hunt.
Loki joined her at the glass, and carefully he spanned her waist from behind with his hands. "He does well, better than I ever expected."
"Thanks to you." Natasha twisted and pressed herself against the prince's chest. "You have been a real warrior in the fight for my father's life, and I will never forget it."
He hummed with pleasure and drew her close. "So sweet, little one, after weeks of prickly barbs! I thought I loved a hedgepig, not a beautiful huntress." She tipped back her head and they laughed together, luxuriating in one rare moment of peace. "It's nice in this house," Loki continued. "Quiet. Warm. I'd like to return one day."
"Best not tempt fate with wishes or promises now." Still, Natasha dared to go on tiptoe and press her lips to the deep dimples on either side of his mouth. So intent on him, she missed the flurry by the door until Ivan cleared his throat loudly.
Self-consciously Natasha and Loki broke apart. Something was wrong – she could see it in her guardian's face. "What has happened?" Loki asked in a deadly voice.
"A rider comes this way," Ivan replied.
Loki and Ivan were stowed upstairs along with a very grumpy Burglar. Natasha waited by the window, heart pounding under her stained shirt. Soon the sound of hoofbeats came closer, and she gripped her sharpened knife tightly, ready to defend the men she loved to the death. If anyone tries to take Loki or Ivan, she reasoned, I will have their eyes before they can …
Those bloodthirsty thoughts were stilled as a dark shape stopped and the rider jumped off his horse. A bolt of recognition shot through her, and she called out to Loki, "Your brother! It is only Prince Thor!"
Loki arrived in the kitchen the same moment Thor knocked, and when he opened the door his brother grasped him and drew him into a strong hug. "For the sake of the gods and my liver!" Loki protested. "Do not actually crush me…"
"What is it?" Natasha could see lines of desperation in Thor's face and the way he held Loki, so close as if he wanted to absorb his brother into his own body. "What has happened?"
Thor released Loki and smeared a silver trail of tears away with one fist. "Astrid," he said. "The guardswoman - do you remember her? I intended to meet her for another load of food and supplies – we were supposed to reunite in the place in the wall." He turned to Natasha. "You know the one."
A cold hand seized her heart. "No," she said. Natasha remembered the last time she had seen the guardswoman, standing in the shaft of early sunlight. For a moment it seemed Astrid was in the room, her hair shining like silver as she laughed over some memory of Loki.
"She was – she was there. Natasha, someone found her and slit her chin to belly. Astrid's body was hung up in the space where she waited with food for you and the prince, faithful to the last." Thor covered his face with both hands.
Loki cast around the room, picked up a jug, and threw it at the wall with a mighty smash. "I knew her since we were children!" he shouted. "Save my mother and Natasha, she was the one person who understood me!"
"You are not alone, Prince." Ivan touched Loki's shoulder. "We may be small in number and weakened, but you have friends."
"'Tis true." Thor nodded. "I shall ever stand by your side."
Natasha said nothing, but she linked her little finger through Loki's, and with a great groan he turned and pulled her into a tight embrace. "I will kill her for this," he vowed. No one had to ask whom he meant. Silence choked the green bubble of the house, punctuated by Loki's sobs and Thor's heavy breathing.
"We must leave this instant," Natasha said firmly. "If the queen knows about Astrid, the hunting lodge is next."
Loki raised his head and looked around the little kitchen. Burglar came forward with a loud Mrorrw and rose onto her back legs, looking for gravy and the remains of cold rabbit. "I hate to go," the prince said softly. "I was happier here than ever before – it seemed I had a place in the world, one of my own creation." He shook his head as if to cast off his own sorrow and addressed Ivan. "What of you?"
Ivan lifted his chin. "I am strong enough to ride."
"Take my horse," Thor added. "Along with the cart mount you have in the stable, Sleipnir will do for a short escape into the next kingdom. There we can start a diplomatic pledge for soldiers and weapons."
Natasha nodded. "Yes. I'll stow a light bag of supplies, and we will ride in one hour. Less if Ivan is prepared."
"Go to Vaneheim," Thor directed, "and I will meet you there as soon as I can. We have friends there, Loki. Do you remember the Lady Sif? She is pure of heart and has promised her help. If you can reach her estates, her brother will give us all the aid we need to start a campaign."
"You introduced me to her at Fandral's party," Natasha recalled. "She seemed like a straight-forward person."
"Can we really trust her?" Loki's elegant nostrils twitched with fury.
"Brother, I am as good as promised to her."
Natasha caught Loki's eye. "We have no time for anything else," she reminded him.
"Look." Quickly Thor seized one of Loki's plant sketches and smeared the delicate drawing with his palm to draw a quick map. "We are here in the forest. If you ride east and take this fork in the road, it will bring you straight to Heimdall's manse – one night's ride. I will meet you there in three days, with Lady Sif herself."
"But is she trustworthy? Yes, I see you are dizzied by her beauty, Thor, but can we depend on her? After all, our father chose the worst wife imaginable…" Loki's frown deepened.
Natasha started to speak, but Thor put both hands on Loki's shoulders. "Our father married sight unseen from duty instead of love. The Lady Sif is strong and utterly loyal to our mother the Queen Frigga, I can promise you this. No worries, Loki - your band of friends grows." It was a slender thread of hope he offered, slim as the reeds by Milkwood stream where she had bathed with Loki in a mirror of stars. Gods help us! she thought.
"Thor, if this endangers Natasha in any way I will punch you in the throat," Loki exploded.
"I can take care of myself, and we are wasting time in argument. Pick up that map while I pack, and prepare what medicines you can for Ivan. Thor, feed and water your horse. Ivan, the cart mounts are in the old stables." Natasha turned away, ready to leap into action, but Loki's firm hand stopped her.
"Huntress, in front of these assembled here, I pledge you my troth. When this nonsense is complete you will have my hand and heart. And by the way, I go nowhere without our Burglar."
