Why the bloody realms were mostly ruled by men Natasha couldn't make out for the life of her as she pulled herself out of the bath. 'Weak-willed, arrogant, they only think with their bloody cocks. It's beyond ridiculous.' She had insisted on washing the feel of Oded off of her, but even as she'd worked to scrub half of her skin off it hadn't done anything to alleviate the irritation she felt at the turn of events. How many other men had to try and make passes at her before they realized that it never got them anywhere? She dressed herself with quick, nimble fingers that made short work tying the lacings up on her undershirt before she pulled on another. Without the extreme heat of Muspelheim the temperate climate of Asgard felt almost too cold, though she had managed to will herself to stop shivering. She needed to present herself as strong, unshaken. She was going to deal with Oded herself, whether or not Loki and Thor liked it.
Assuming there was anything left of the dumbass by the time they were done with him.
That thought drove her mad, teeth gritting. It was her right more so than theirs to take vengeance for what he'd tried to do to her, and she worked to shake off the doubt in the back of her head that told her she wasn't strong enough to handle it. Bullshit she wasn't. Hadn't it been her who'd withstood Thor in his Berserker form, who'd been clever enough to stop Loki before he could align the realms to Asgard's timeframe? Her, who'd managed to get Fenrir's approval and loyalty, who'd thought to have him seek out the truth behind Dra'ace's death? The reminder that she hadn't heard from him weighed heavy on her shoulders as it came to mind, but they already ached from the weight of the world so she would just have to trust that he was handling it as best he could. There was no reason to think otherwise.
The knock at the door had her fingers slipping around the hilt of her nearest dagger before she could wholly realize it.
"Come in."
One of the royal guards opened the tall door, though Nat's spine and mind alike didn't relax until he'd bowed his head and cast his gaze reverently just above her head, not looking directly in her eyes. "My lady, I come with a request for your presence from King Thor and King Loki, who wait for you within the King's antechamber."
Natasha slid the dagger into the sheath at her thigh and nodded, tugging a nearby wrap over her shoulders before she followed the guard out. This paranoia really had to stop. As she was led down the halls she could hear the shouts and training cries coming from out in the courtyard, glad that at least they'd kept up with the work that they'd been doing. She wondered whether or not anyone else knew what had happened in Muspelheim. For her part she hoped not. The less people who knew the better, though she could only assume that Katrik was made aware of what it was that his son had done. Well, she'd been looking for leverage, hadn't she? And if it got the fire demons on their side, well then at least she wasn't entirely useless.
No. She couldn't think like that. Her heart beat all the harder in her chest as she chewed on the inside of her cheek. Outside, thunder rumbled, and she felt the noise reverberating around in her chest cavity. Thor must not have been pleased with the turn of events, but with Loki at his side at least he would be temperate. For the time.
Temperate certainly wasn't the way she found Thor, wearing a hole in the rug in front of his bed, flipping Mjolnir in his right hand. The uru head crackled with energy, and she sighed as she stepped closer. Loki's eyes lit on her as soon as she walked in, and in three enormous strides he stood close enough to wrap his arms tight around her middle. He hadn't changed back to his Aesir skin and the chill of his body seeped through her extra layers. It was more of a comfort than the chilled air after her bath, however, a familiarity that she was grateful for as she buried her face into the crook of his neck.
"I'll chop that bastard's head off myself and put it on a pike," Loki growled, breath warm against her skin. Thor looked over at his words,a dn the boom of thunder echoed his support for his brother's words. Natasha pulled away, shaking her head even as she felt her runes heat up in response to Loki and Thor's own magic. That was curious.
"We need him alive," she murmured. "We cannot kill him. Did you send a message to his father?"
"Aye." Thor said. "Though there hasn't been a response."
"We'll send one again, demanding Katrik's troops. I would have them used to atone for Oded's attempt."
"His men are more likely to turn on us and join Thanos' cause. They won't take well to being tricked." Loki advised her, though he didn't push the matter too hard, words sounding more of a suggestion than anything else.
"If they do then we take Oded's head."
Thor's face lit up. Nat smiled, and took his hand in hers, twisting their fingers together even as Loki kept his arm cemented around her waist. "And once we lay waste to Thanos' forces we make Muspelheim pay in spades for it."
As she'd planned, Natasha was the first to visit with the fallen fire prince since his incarceration. She insisted on going alone though neither of her lovers were pleased with that. But she needed to, the back of her mind urging her to prove not only to herself but everyone else that she could do this. How was she supposed to lead her men and women into a fight if she ran away and skirted from the problem when it mattered like this did? But more than that this was personal. He'd made it so. He'd attacked her, not her country, and for that she'd see him head on without the assistance of anyone else. So she walked alone under the palace floor, taking the stone steps slowly, the heels of her shoes clacking soft against the hard surface as she descended deeper into the earth. The dungeons had been carved into the very foundation of the palace where the Aesir had conducted their affairs of state. Funny to think, she supposed, that they all lived on the backs of those who once sought to make enemies of Asgard. Amusing how their presence, or rather the necessity to house these villains-supported those who would uphold justice. It brought a wry smile to her face nonetheless.
The cavern was grand, she'd give it that. When she'd trained to be a guard she'd led batches of prisoners down those very steps, knew in the catacombs where the dangerous prisoners were housed, and where those who hardly posed a threat were set aside to think about their actions before the tribunal was called once a year to determine the remnants of their sentencing. There were a couple of guards that she recognized, none of whom bothered her as she took a sharp turn to the left, away from the main stretch of petty thieves and marauders. Once out of sight of those who knew her she pulled her shift around her tighter as the air grew dry and brought a chill zig-zagging up her spine. This was no place for a fire demon.
Loki had assured her that every precaution had been taken to ensure Oded remained powerless. She hoped so, because the shouts echoing from where he was being kept hardly inspired friendship or welcome. Some part of her, admittedly, took pleasure at knowing that, and at seeing him bound as he was. There was a thick grey torc around his very human neck and the metal was inscribed with runes that burned red everytime he so much as flexed, ensuring that even as he tried to use his magic it kept it trapped deep inside his body, refusing to even let him change forms. Once she'd witnessed the same device being placed around the throat of a mage they'd caught, and watched as it was tightened to permanently stay around his throat. The man had screamed as if his skin was being ripped off inch by inch, and after having seen the damage he'd done to his very children she'd found it fitting to say the least. Now, with Oded trapped in the same device, she found the justice was sound enough for her liking.
Oded calmed upon seeing her, and his eyes burned into hers. "I have nothing to say to you, wench." His voice filled the space between them, cracking from having been used too much,
"Good, then you'll listen instead." Her words were firmer than she'd thought, offering no alternative. He snarled and spit, fists tight at his side as the torc lit up once more. His whole body was shaking, though she couldn't be certain if it was due to the chill or her words. Was it too much to hope for both? "You and I both know that you deserve to be in here for what you did. An envoy was sent to your father with our terms Your safe return home after he commits his troops to our cause. You'll remain here until the end of the battle, under protection to see that no harm comes to you, should he accept."
Oded's laugh reverberated around his cell, dry as the snapping of firewood before it was sent to the flames. She could barely keep from jumping at the noise, goosebumps rising on her arms. "You don't know Katrik well then. Surely your husband or lover ought to have told you my father won't do anything of the sort. He has only ever believed in numbers and the truths they tell."
A part of Natasha wanted to call down the forcefield that separated them and slap the smile off of his face, drag her nails down the side of his cheek until she felt his flesh part and the bubble of his hot blood beneath her fingertips. Her stance straightened, her shoulders tightening, instead.
"So what will be believe, then, when I send him back one son without a head? What do those numbers say?"
"You'd risk open war-assuming Thanos doesn't kill you himself-with my people when your own forces will be lucky to survive the first?" Oded asked, a laugh in his eyes and voice. For half a moment she reconsidered letting Thor and Loki take a crack at him.
Instead she stepped closer, her lips twisting into a smirk that stopped his laugh dead on his tongue. "I don't know. Might be fun. Give my people something else to focus on. You see, Oded, the interesting thing about loss is that once everything else is gone-taken from you-you tend to stop giving much of a shit about the rest of it." Her face contorted into a snarl that cut her to the bone, exposing the pained nerve of Midgard, of the death of Kitty, of everything she'd thought permanent and fixed being ripped away. It'd been bubbling so close to the surface that to just let it go, let him see just what it had done to her, relaxed her shoulders and her stance considerably. "And believe me: we've known loss, Oded. Let's see what your father does under the same circumstance."
The prince took a step forward, placing his hand against the force field despite the sizzle of burning flesh that filled the air, the scent of it burning Natasha's nose. "I'll be sure to burn you last, then, so you know full and well you had so much more to lose than you ever thought."
"Not if I manage to gut you first, swine." She growled. His response was to shout and yell, fist slamming against the wall that kept them separated as she turned on her heel to walk out, head held high despite the obscenities shouted at her, his prophecies about standing over her corpse and bringing all Hel and more to her home. Her hands bled and shook from how hard she'd squeezed her nails into her palms to keep from showing the tremor of fear his threats inspired. If it came to it that they couldn't defeat Thanos, with her last breath she swore she'd find a way to get back into the castle and rip Oded limb from limb with her bare hands.
She met back up with Thor and Loki in the antechamber when she was finished, and by then her trembling had gotten so bad she could hardly wrap her fingers around the door handle to open it. Loki was gone, she thought to ensure that the message was received by King Katrik this time, and so it was Thor whose arms Natasha all but collapsed into. He held her even as she bit the inside of her cheek to try and hold it together, his fingers running through her hair.
"I hate him." She managed to bite out, and he murmured his agreement into her ear, kissing the shell of it as he crushed her body against his. The slight pain was a comfort of its own, grounding her, and the pulse of his heart that mirrored hers. For a moment she managed to close her eyes and focus on the steady sound, grateful for the way it silenced all her own thoughts.
"Do you think Katrik will agree to the terms?" She asked after allowing herself a couple more minutes of peace, of finding heat and comfort in his grip, before pulling away and staring at him. Oded had told her that Thor and Loki were supposed to have known better than to have attempted to make contact and barter with the king, but they hadn't stopped her when she'd insisted on the first attempt, nor the second.
Now Thor wouldn't meet her eyes and her stomach sank. If they'd known it was a bad idea why had they indulged her? She ought to have just sent the head of the man's son to him in a box, and open war with them be damned. There would be a battle one way or another, what did the enemy matter at that point? She swore Thanos was mere days away from launching another attack, though at which ally she couldn't be sure. With Alfheim and Vanaheim out of the question . . . well, it left them vulnerable.
As the thought entered her head she glanced out the window of Thor's room, expecting to see the titan's troops marching down the rainbow bridge.
"Thor, don't lie to me," she said, voice firm in the absence of his answer.
"He's not been known to broker many deals in the past." Thor finally admitted. "My father had a monstrous time trying to get him to join in an attempt against the Jotunar, and they're mortal enemies. Still, Katrik wouldn't budge, and so Odin leveled the city himself."
"And if he didn't bend to Odin, why would he do me the honors, son of his in captivity or not?" Natasha filled in the rest of what he hadn't said. Excellent. Good to know. She pulled away from Thor and ran a hand through her hair, all but ripping out the tangles that had set in since she hadn't taken the time to brush it through after her bath. "What of the dwarves that you went to visit?"
"They agreed to supply us with an even one-thousand of their warriors."
She nodded her head, gladdened by at least some progress. "Still nothing from Fenrir?"
"Not that I have heard."
She'd have to ask Loki, then, in case the man had gotten into touch with him. "I promised Oded that I'd send his father his head if Katrik didn't agree to fight with us." She didn't mean to murmur the words, had hoped that they'd be stronger, but they only came out deadened on her tongue.
"Then at least I have something to look forward to."
She squeezed Thor's hand as he took hers, shooting him the only smile she could manage, and small though it might've been he mirrored it. "God. Thor, what are we even doing?" She asked, looking up at him now that the words were finally out. She hadn't thought she'd ever figure out just how to word what it was that gnawed at her mind, but, well, there it was. His hand left hers, stretching upwards to cup the side of her face. She pressed her cheek against the warmth of his palm, her lips brushing against the calloused skin, the gesture as comfortable as a long breath after being underwater for too long.
"We're fighting for our homes. For those who've died. We're fighting because it's what needs to be done, and we cannot lose hope now. Natasha. We'll get through this."
She hoped so. But even if there was victory to be found, even if they managed to somehow pull out of it-all three of them managing to somehow survive-what would they leave in their wake? He bent down to kiss her. She hadn't realized that she'd been trembling until she felt his steady breathing and body pressed firmly against hers.
The first explosion wracked the city and forced the pair of them to part, eyes going wide, before they sprinted in turn out of the antechamber and down the hall, horns blaring through the city. Natasha closed her eyes to focus in on her dress, to will it to change into the catsuit she'd defeated Fenrir in and had worn when she'd gotten Odin's attention so many decades ago. Thor summoned Mjolnir, and with it came the chain and armor that he wore into battle, electricity crackling up his arm as he led the way, Natasha hot on his heels, her own weapons appearing in hand.
So it began