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Chelsea Grin (12)
Stars Collide

Loki didn't know how he got here. He didn't even know where he was. All he knew was that he was alone with Natasha. She seemed to look frail, feverish and unwell again. His heart went out for her. He pulled Natasha into his embrace and let his cool touch soothe her. He tugged open his shirt, exposing his bare chest. Natasha rested her cheek against him.

Then Loki did something unimaginable, almost unreasonable. With his fingers he tilted her chin upwards...and leaned down to kiss her.

He didn't know how. He didn't know why. And he didn't bother to sort it out. Only one thought ran dominant in his mind: she was his. All his, and no one else's. She gently broke the silence with sighs only he could hear. He muffled her moans by crushing his lips against hers.

Loki woke with a start. He lurched forward in his bed, breathing in deep, husky pants. A persistent, needy heat burned in the core of his body. When he pulled himself to sit up, he thought he felt a strange stir in his groin. Loki lifted the covers with a tentative tug. He blushed madly at the sight. He fell back into bed with a groan and put a hand over his face.

'Loki, you bloody idiot.'

He kept his eyes wide open and waited for his body to cool down. He dared not close his eyes again. Sleep couldn't come to him. Loki threw back the covers and sat up. Eventually he rose to pace around the room. The cramped space of his quarters made him feel anything but relaxed. He teleported to the temple instead. Open space and environmental beauty was what he needed to clear his head.

He took long, hasty strides down the gravel trail, with no specific destination in mind. He nearly ran into a duck, which took its time across the path. A pair of ducklings bobbed and waddled behind it. The smaller one struggled to catch up. Loki stopped by the lake-shore, standing on the smooth rocks and staring at the water.

'Where in the Nine Realms did that dream come from?'

Until now, this very night, he had never lusted after a woman. Many of them in Asgard were angelically attractive. That much was true. But Loki invested his time in magic and academic learning rather than courting maidens. As the second son of Odin, he never had to bear the pressure of taking in a wife and producing heirs. Unlike many men his age, Loki never had so much the slightest interest.

Even Freyja, the beautiful temptress from the royal house of Vanaheim, had no power over him.

She once attempted to seduce him, of all people. That baffled and irritated him. He figured she was just desperate for attention...very desperate. She could, after all, boast that she had won the heart of an Asgardian prince. But Loki had cruelly dashed her hopes that day. Freyja took her time approaching him...swaying stride, sultry grin and all. She moved closer to brush up against him. Then he conjured snakes that hissed and writhed in his arms. The horrified, ear-piercing shriek that followed became the object of laughter and amusement as Loki told the story to Thor, Sif and the Warriors Three.

Loki left the lake-shore and went to see if the main temple was vacant. No one was inside, so Loki took his place at the center. He sat there, deep in thought.

Sometimes there were monks occupying the temple. To pass the time, Loki would take a stroll through the gardens. That in itself was a peaceful and quiet. One time he observed a funeral from afar. The temple was flooded by attendants wearing white headbands and white robes. The air was heavy with incense and the monks' chanting dirge. He had seen old Ming among them. The whole thing reminded him of Mistress Death.

'Does Thanos refer to her as merely a metaphorical figure? Or a real woman?'

He assumed that if she existed somewhere in the Nine Realms, she had some sort of affiliation with Niflheim. It was unspoken knowledge that mention of the hidden underworld, the realm of the dead, was not something to be encouraged. No one liked to talk about it. As immortals, fear of death was natural. Fear of a glorious death, however, was something else entirely. Asgardians were always fond of valor, strength and glory. Honor in battle meant honor in Valhalla, the afterlife reserved only for the greatest heroes. Anyone who didn't live and die by the sword was doomed to dwell in Niflheim instead.

Naturally, Loki opposed this way of thinking. He felt that other people deserved a fair chance to enter Valhalla. Not that he suggested he had a shot at it. His crimes overwhelmed any glimmer of redemption, no matter how hard he tried.

Loki abruptly broke his train of thought. He was thinking too much; he should focus on slipping into what he called the "dead space" and eavesdrop on Salastarr. He closed his eyes and lapsed into a dream-like trance. He hoped Salastarr would show up this time. There were nights when he made a no-show, and Loki had to pull back into reality. He had no idea where Salastarr went whenever he wasn't with Thanos. It wasn't uncommon for Loki to return to his quarters with disappointment and unanswered questions.

This time he struck gold. His heart skipped with apprehension when he got a glimpse of the two figures. He performed the usual shape-shifting procedure and hid among the rocks as a little bug.

Like a wraith, Salastarr appeared from a cloud of dark smoke. His robes billowed as he knelt before Thanos. "My lord, I'm afraid I have bad news..."

"As you usually do. What is it this time?"

Salastarr's sigh of frustration rattled through his mouth-guard. "Finding the trickster is proving increasingly troublesome."

"Perhaps your efforts are...insufficient. Have you considered doubling the search and assistance from your fellow sorcerers?"

"That and more." Salastarr appeared stung by the first remark. "Though weak and incompetent, Loki's wit and cunning are not to be underestimated. He was, after all, responsible for the downfall of my people, the Orodruin."

Loki stiffened in alarm. Salastarr of the Orodruin. No wonder he seemed familiar. Many centuries ago in Asgard, practicing magic had been widely accepted and even respected. But a group of sorcerers, the Orodruin, got themselves too deep in dark magic. The founding members were rumored to be Dark Elves, who came to Asgard as foreign merchants. They offered their services to superstitious folk, eventually recruiting Asgardians in the process. Their rituals always involved fire and blood. Sacrifices would be dedicated to their namesake: a huge volcano in the Dark Elves' realm. They would use ashes to worship and contact the dead, giving the "Orodrunians" another name: the Black Hands. Loki heard a wild rumor that sometimes they drank the blood of their victims, forever staining their teeth red. Upon getting caught, only permanent exile awaited them. Loki would know...he had been the one to punish them, after all.

It had come to his attention that one of the head sorcerers condemned a Midgardian royal family with a curse, driving them to complete extinction. It was truly a terrible crime, one that would've given Asgard a bad name if Loki hadn't intervened.

He brought the case to the Asgardian court, deeming the Orodruin a disgrace to those who practiced magic for rightful purposes. He wasn't sure if his eloquent speech alone had convinced them. Some people had suspected that Loki himself was affiliated with the Orodruin. When the court brought this up, Loki had been quick to fiercely deny this. Thor's support for him led to a unanimous vote and a final sentence from the Allfather. Since then, Dark Elves were exiled from Asgard. They had retreated to their home world, Svaltafar. The two realms would forever be enemies. Anyone involved with the Orodruin also faced the penalty. Fortunately for Asgard, Dark Elves and their allies were not well versed in military power and strategies. Malekith, self-proclaimed King and Warlord of Svaltafar, ruled and negotiated through fear and tyranny. An alliance with him always involved blood in some way or another.

Just knowing Salastarr's identity alone told an awful lot. But whether Loki was one step closer to figuring out Thanos' plan, he did not know.

Thanos turned to face Salastarr. His eyes were as eerie and pale as the stars behind him. "Let your bitterness and hatred for the trickster fuel your desire to find him. I know how you Orodruin are also fond of serving Mistress Death. She too hates Loki." Thanos' voice lowered to almost a whisper. "Most of all, she fears him."

Salastarr's hiss was sharp with surprise. "How so? Death fears nothing."

Thanos' reply was tinged with disdain. "Much as you magicians adore her, I am closer to her than any of you would hope to be. She knows things, and tells me much. But I admit that even I do not know everything. There is something to that trickster...what he could do in the future. She has foreseen it, I think. As for exact answers, nothing is certain."

Loki could only eavesdrop for so long. He felt his energy running low the more he listened in on the conversation. He had no choice but to pull back. He was back in the temple, feeling fatigued yet elated from the amount of progress he made tonight.

He wished he had the endurance to prolong the trance, so he could follow Salastarr beyond the dead space. But hiding alone was already dangerous. Actively seeking the sorcerer would put Loki even more at risk. He decided to call it a day and get some rest.

But as he slept, the erotic dreams kept returning. Worse still, they grew stronger with almost every night. Should he feel ashamed that he...enjoyed them?

It came to a point when the kissing intensified, and Natasha was actually naked before him. Her body bore no trace of any wound or scar. Her face was whole, unmarked, almost glowing. She smiled at him, but not with the wounds that stretched across her lips. It was a real smile. She appeared to him an angel. Loki pressed his body against hers, savoring the physical contact between them. He went deeper and deeper...She threw back her head, her mouth open in silent ecstasy. He bowed his head and moaned as his seed spilled inside her. She felt good, so damn good. So soft and tight and wet and-

His eyes flew wide open, shattering the dream before it could go on even further. He trembled like a wet leaf. Cold sweat coated his neck, stomach and chest. At the same time, he felt as if he had been dipped in liquid heat. Most of all, his groin ached terribly. He felt both tired and exhilarated. Loki propped himself up against the pillows, trying his best to still his hammering heart. Suddenly, an unorthodox thought crossed his mind.

'What if...it's an involuntary line of defense against Salastarr?'

At first it seemed absurd. But the more he thought about it, the more it made sense. He knew that the Orodruin sorcerer was doubling the efforts to get under his skin. And each time he tried, manifestations of Natasha would get in the way. But why?

'I certainly didn't choose to have these dreams. The fact that they automatically fill my mind as I sleep confirms this.'

Loki concluded that it was a mixed blessing. They prevented the dark, terrible nightmares induced by Salastarr. On the other hand...Loki would never think of Natasha, let alone look at her, the same way ever again.

He couldn't get her out of his mind. She always appeared vivid, healthy and beautiful. Not that she wasn't beautiful now. But everything about her in the dreams was absolutely stunning. Her pale and smooth thighs...her eyes, though he couldn't tell whether they were blue or green...and her fiery red hair. She was snow, sea and fire all at once. He could never forget how vulnerable and accepting she was when she took him into her arms...between her legs...

Loki felt hot and brought a hand to his forehead. He didn't know what to do. Perhaps he should ask someone for help and counsel. Automatically he thought of Thor.

'No! No way in the Nine Realms. He's the last person I should consider. Knowing him, keeping secrets is beyond his capability.'

Then he thought of the monk and the temple. He sighed in relief. 'Of course. I could go to him for counsel. I wonder what he would have to say for my...problem.'

Loki teleported to the temple, keeping in mind that he was visiting during daylight hours. There were many isolated and secluded junctures of the garden. He had taken the time to know most of them. Reappearing amidst a tight cluster of bushes and ginkgo trees, Loki stepped out as naturally and nonchalantly as possible.

None of the bypassers took any notice of him. Loki made his way to the monastery, ignoring the tourists, nature enthusiasts and Buddhist acolytes who shared the gravel trails with him. The main temple was certainly occupied at this time. Fortunately he made no plans to be there. He needed Ming, not a chance to be alone.

When he arrived at the humble building, Loki stopped at the steps. He asked a young acolyte for the head monk. A minute later, Ming emerged with a friendly smile.

"Hello again, Loki. What can I do for you?"

"It's good to see you, Ming. There's a matter I must discuss with you urgently and privately."

"Of course. Please, come in with me."

Loki followed the monk inside. They took their places at a very low table. He followed Ming's example by kneeling on the pillows. He was used to Asgard's towering chairs and tables, so he found his current position slightly uncomfortable.

"Would you like tea?" Ming offered.

"No, thank you. I'm fine."

Even if he was offered strong and fiery mead, Loki would rather skip the formalities and get to the heart of the problem. He had no choice but to sit with quiet anxiety as Ming took his time pouring tea into a tiny cup.

"Are you sure, my friend? You look like a drink could calm you down."

"Very well..." Loki relented and accepted a second cup that Ming filled for him. As he blew and sipped, he tried to think of a logical explanation. Then again, his problem was anything but logical.

Memories of the dreams sprang unbidden to his mind. Remembering all the suggestive details made him feel ashamed. He shouldn't be thinking of such things at a holy place.

"Something on your mind?" the monk asked.

"Not something...someone."

Ming raised his eyebrows, but said nothing as he waited for Loki to continue. Loki stared at his cup pensively. The slow, ghostly trail of steam warmed his face.

"There's a young woman I know who has been grievously injured. I've been visiting her at the hospital...keeping her company and giving her solace."

"Is she not a friend of yours?"

"Not quite. To be honest, I don't know what to call her..."

"Why are you uncertain?" Ming asked. "If you have been seeing her, then you must care for her to some extent."

Loki furrowed his brow. He realized that this was the first time he was actually talking about his connection with Natasha to someone else. 'What is she to me?'

"It's more of sympathizing with her." Loki said. "I can't disclose details to you, but I had endured suffering similar to hers. It's through this that we have any kind of connection at all. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here in New York City."

'I wouldn't be here on this planet.'

Though he wasn't telling much, Loki spoke honestly. If it weren't for Natasha's plight, he would still be imprisoned and punished in Asgard. In a way, she saved him. But did he save her?

Ming folded his wrinkled hands sagely. "Suffering...the center of my way of life and its teachings. There is no escaping it, no matter how hard we try. But just because it exists does not mean we succumb to it. There's a way out of suffering. And as I had been taught, it's called the Noble Eightfold Path. Are you familiar with this?"

"I'm afraid not."

Ming brought forth a piece of paper and laid it flat on the table. With a pencil and a steady hand, he drew a wide circle. He divided it into eight even parts.

"We tend to think of paths as straight lines. However, this one is a wheel." Ming wrote in each part with strange letters Loki couldn't recognize.

"Right view, thought, speech, conduct, livelihood, effort, mindfulness and concentration. These are the spokes of the wheel. And every spoke is needed to keep the wheel turning." He pointed the pencil tip at the circle's center. "Here is the fixed point, when you've achieved all eight. The Nirvana."

"Nirvana..." Loki murmured. It sounded like Valhalla, and both seemed like heaven.

"Following the Noble Eightfold Path is like cultivating a garden." the monk went on. "In Buddhism, one cultivates wisdom. The mind is the ground and the thoughts are seeds. Following the Path is a way to care for the garden. Our faults are the weeds. Pulling them out is like weeding the garden. The harvest is real and lasting happiness."

Loki took another sip of tea to wet his throat. "I see. Could you explain more about this Nirvana?"

"Certainly. It is the state of everlasting peace and joy. We monks strive all our lives to reach this point. Ironically, we abandon material things to seek a higher way of living. Part of our mission is encouraging others to do the same. It is the end to all desires and suffering."

"Speaking of desires...I've been seeing this woman in my dreams, and they won't go away..." Loki wouldn't elaborate more on the matter, for fear of embarrassing himself in front of the chaste monk.

"Sexual desires, I assume?"

Loki stiffened. "Not out of choice," he quickly replied. "I am not one to actively and frequently lust over women. But could it be that our suffering brings us closer together, so much so that I'm...unconsciously yearning for something more?"

'Rambling about strange dreams and a woman whose name he doesn't even know...He must think I'm as mad as a loon.'

But there was no disdain or amusement present in the monk's eyes. He gave Loki his serious, undivided attention.

"Perhaps," the monk finally replied. "That's human nature. I must ask one last question."

"Yes...?"

"...Is she beautiful?"

That took Loki off guard. For all the wise things the monk could've asked, Loki didn't expect that. Suddenly he felt uncomfortable.

"Y-yes, I suppose. Very much so, actually."

The monk's eyes twinkled at that. For some reason, Loki started to get a bad feeling about that look. "What are you smiling about?"

"My friend...you are in love."

They were such simple words. But Loki felt as if he was hit by something far more powerful than any kind of weapon or magic.

"Th-that's ridiculous..." he stammered. "I would never..."

"Just because I am a monk with no spouse or family of my own does not make me a stranger to love. I've seen it many times in the eyes and confessions of young lovers. Your case is a bit unusual, but I know it when I see it."

Much as Loki denied it, there was no way around the truth. He looked up at the monk with an imploring gaze that almost looked shy. "Should I tell her?"

"The choice is up to you. I could give as much counsel as you'd like. But in the end, whatever you decide to do is always from your heart."

Ming returned to finishing his tea, leaving Loki deep in thought. Natasha Romanoff, of all people. The woman whom he had belittled, harassed and insulted...and called a mewling quim. Yet she was the same woman with whom they shared stories, conversations good times. And most of all, hardships. All his life, he had told countless lies. He used to take pride and joy in it, but this was different. Natasha deserved the truth.

Loki finished his cup and set it down resolutely. He flexed his aching legs and rose to leave. "Thank you so much, Ming. I appreciate it."

"Where are you going in such a hurry?" Even as the monk asked, Loki could tell he knew the answer. The God of Mischief returned a bright gaze and a grin.

"I'll do it. I'll tell her."


Clint was dead tired.

After flying in from Singapore, all he wanted to do was hit the bed and sleep the day away. He decided to order coffee so he could rejuvenate himself. After getting his drink, Clint happened to see Tony and Bruce seated in the shady patio. He figured they were talking about science, as usual. He went over to them, anyway.

"Do you mind if I sit in with you guys?" he asked.

Tony couldn't speak for a second, then he managed to say, "Uh...sure. Didn't know you were back home. How was China?"

"Vietnam. I'm just going to say that the commies won't be back to bite in a long time." Clint flexed his neck and rubbed it with a groan. "I flew in a couple of hours ago. Jet lag's still bogging me down a little."

"Well, by all means...grab a seat and start chugging down that coffee."

A minute later, Captain Rogers arrived. He had bought himself some Frappuccino, topped with copious amounts of whipped cream.

Tony beamed. "Oh good. Everyone's here for my secret meeting. Well, nearly everyone..."

"What's this about, Mr. Stark?" Steve asked.

"Who do you think? It's the God of Mischief who switched from genocidal megalomaniac to Buddhist convert!"

Bruce chuckled. "I know he's been going to the temple a lot, but it's not because he converted to Buddhism. I understand where he's coming from. Back in India, I used to visit Hindu temples so I could ease my mind."

"I was just kidding about that, buddy. Don't worry. But do you notice that Loki's been acting kind of weird lately?"

Steve shrugged. "Depends on your definition of weird. Getting his hair cut, growing a beard and going to the gym seems pretty normal to me."

"He's being weird by being normal. Don't you get it? I thought he despised everything about us and our world. Now he's actually trying to fit in."

"He had a blast at the library."

Everyone turned to see Darcy, who just walked out with a fresh cup of latte. "Sorry, couldn't help but overhear. Mind if I join the superhero gossip?"

Tony made a grand sweeping gesture. "Take a seat, girl. We were just getting started. Now...what about the library?"

Darcy took the offer and sipped at her coffee. "Well, I bumped into him a few days ago. He was knee deep in books. I caught him reading a lot of the classic Russian ones. I went out of my way and taught him how to check out his own books."

Tony stroked his goatee, pretending to look scholarly and deep in thought. "Oh yeah, I remember returning them. Russian books, huh? Interesting...Hey, remember what Fury had said that other night? Why did Loki make it his first priority to see Natasha?"

Clint's eyes narrowed. "He did what?"

"Loki had a raging fit when we had a party at the Stark tower," Steve quickly explained. "He had permission from Fury to try sorting things out. Then he visited Agent Romanoff to tell her before he would tell Fury."

Darcy frowned before sipping her latte. "Poor guy. I hope he's doing okay in S.H.I.E.L.D. detention."

Clint failed to suppress a smirk. "Oh, he's in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s custody now?"

"Fury can let you in on that later." Tony said.

Darcy glanced around. "Hey, where are Thor and Jane?"

"They don't know we're here," Tony simply replied. "I didn't invite them."

Steve frowned. "That's a little rude-"

"I have good reason not to tell them."

"So Tony...what's the verdict on your conspiracy theory?" Bruce asked.

The billionaire leaned forward with a gleeful smirk wide on his face. "Wanna know what I think? Loki...is in love...with Natasha!"

A dead, appalled silence reigned over the coffee table.

Then everyone jolted when Clint pounded the table with his fists. He said nothing. He abruptly rose, pushed back his chair and stormed off. His cup of coffee was left unattended. Tony scratched at his goatee.

"Huh, what's with him?"

Steve shook his head in despair. "I don't know. Maybe you hurt his feelings, genius."

Tony pretended to look impressed. "Wow Cap, I didn't know you were capable of sarcasm. Why is Legolas so upset?"

"Don't you know that Agent Barton and Agent Romanoff have been close partners for a long time? I'm surprised he didn't shoot you in the head after you said that."

"What would he shoot me with, anyway? His coffee stirrer?"

Steve put his face into his hands and said nothing more.

Tony pulled Clint's drink in and took a sip. "I guess he won't be coming back for this. Ooh, he likes it black and strong."

"You don't just take people's things." Steve said in exasperation. "How could you be so inconsiderate?"

"Quite the contrary, Captain. I am actually a very caring man. Leaving a cup of coffee cold is like leaving a puppy to die in the snow. You gotta bring it in and take care of it."

"That's hardly a plausible analogy-"

"I'm doing Cupid a favor."

"You made him leave in the first place."

"He throws a hissy fit at some speculation I made. The guy needs to grow a backbone. I didn't even invite him anyway! He just shows up, and it's his fault he's in on the secret."

Steve tightened his fingers in the air to make a fist. "Sometimes I just want to settle things the old-fashioned way and punch you in the face."

"You two argue like a married couple."

Everyone turned to Bruce, who looked slightly nervous after his sudden remark. He smiled meekly. "Is that a plausible analogy?"

The scene at the table quickly dissolved into laughter. Darcy had been typing furiously on her phone, taking record of the entire conversation so she could post it on Tumblr. Even Steve relaxed and managed to chuckle. Tony looked relieved that he wouldn't be punched in the face after all.

He rose and clapped his hands together. "Meeting adjourned! Oh, and by the way, do not tell Thor. That guy has a big mouth for more than just Pop Tarts."

Darcy nodded vigorously. "Note taken. I won't tell a soul."

Everyone left the coffee shop, mulling over Tony's wild revelation. They all had one thought running through their minds: 'Loki liking Natasha...That couldn't be true...could it?'


Natasha was starting to feel like sluggish and incompetent. She had been in bed for weeks and haven't had an ounce of decent exercise. It frustrated her to no end. The nurses kept insisting that she remained at rest. They knew that if they allowed her mobility and freedom, she would overexert herself regardless of the pain. Natasha obeyed orders, as always. But inwardly she fumed and rebelled. Back in the Soviet days, her superiors would've had her up and going in mere days. When Loki unexpectedly showed up in her room, she felt as if he was a godsend.

He looked a little flustered...perhaps even excited. He met her gaze, then the light in his eyes dimmed and he cleared his throat. She didn't miss the way he bit his lip.

'Is he nervous...?'

"Listen, Natasha...I've been wanting to tell you something..." He opened his mouth and closed it. One of his hands tightened to a fist and he muttered angrily to himself.

"I'm sorry, Loki...but could we talk somewhere else? I was wondering if you could take me to the gym."

Loki blinked. "You want to exercise?"

She made a small shrug. 'He's not acting like himself. I wonder what's up.'

He frowned as he glanced at her legs. "I don't think it's wise to put stress on your body. You need rest more than exercise."

But she insisted. "Just lifting weights. Ten minutes at most."

"As you wish...Here, let me carry you."

With gentle yet firm arms, Loki helped Natasha into the wheelchair. She felt almost weightless in his arms. He wheeled her down the hallway and up an elevator to reach the gym. Nostalgia glimmered in her eyes at the sight. Loki glanced at her.

"Which weights would you like?"

"The lightest ones. Might as well start out safe."

He gave her a pair, then he knelt down so he could be at her level. He watched her flex her arms with the weights in hand. They touched her shoulders down to her lap in smooth, repetitive arcs. Her hospitalization didn't drain as much of her strength as she had feared. She was well capable of lifting these weights, and she wasn't going to settle for anything less. Natasha handed the weights to Loki.

"I'm ready for the heavier ones, please. The ones that are up by two. What were you going to tell me before we moved here?"

Loki obliged and pulled out the pair that had been sitting two racks above the previous ones. As Natasha lifted the weights she studied Loki, waiting for him to continue on what he was going to say. His tongue darted out to lick his lips before he spoke.

"I have to be honest with you, Natasha...I didn't choose to come to Earth in the first place. After my defeat, I was taken to Asgard and sentenced to endure terrible punishment. I didn't know how many days or months had passed, since I was so blinded by pain and anger. Then Thor arrived to free me from my chains. He told me what had happened to you."

He made a little wry chuckle. "My suffering ended so that I could come in hopes of ending yours. Ironic, isn't it?" He fixated his stare on the slightly worn gym floor. "I feared coming here. I had paid the price of underestimating the power of the Avengers. I returned to this realm helpless and stripped of my magic. I had expected swift and violent retribution from your teammates as soon as they saw me. Most of all, I feared what you would think. After all the wrongs I had done to you...I feared that Thor's idea to bring me here would be a horrible mistake."

Loki lifted his eyes to meet Natasha's. Considering his reputation as the God of Mischief and Lies, she saw how hard it must be for him to show open sincerity for a change. She stopped moving the weights. They rested on her lap and she remained still in her wheelchair.

"You did the unexpected," he went on. "You've opened yourself to me, and in doing so I've opened myself to you. What I'm trying to say is that I'm glad of being right here, right now. If it weren't for you, I'd still be locked up in Asgard, tortured by snake venom and cursing the man I once called Father until...well, the end of days, for all I know. I would be doomed to a life with no family, friends, acceptance and a home. A life with no life."

Natasha had the urge to reply. Loki waited patiently as he read her response. "I know a little of how that feels. Russia, the United States...no matter where I went, or where I stayed, I could never call it a place of my own. For a long time I've accepted this. It was a part of my job...and part of who I am. Even my allegiance to SHIELD can't last forever. I wake up every day knowing it could be the last...for myself or my comrades. Lives and loyalties are finite."

"I lie and kill in the service of liars and killers...that much is true. An undeniable reality. When you had said that to me, you were talking about yourself too, weren't you?"

Loki's eyes became heavy. "Yes," he said in a low voice. "We are one and the same."

"That's what brings us closer. We've paid dearly for our crimes, and we've suffered together."

Loki leaned forward, his voice dipping into an uncertain whisper. "But have we pulled through it all alongside each other?"

"...I think so."

A small smile broke through his somber expression like a tiny ray of sunlight through clouds. "You've changed me, Natasha. For the better. I've been lost and wandering all my life, searching for a home, a place where I could belong and be happy. But I don't have to look any further. Home is..." he turned red. "Wherever you are."

He looked slightly sheepish. "You've appeared in my dreams. I'm no longer kept awake by those horrible nightmares, because you were my source of comfort. It's like coming home. I...I can't stop thinking about you. You're a part of my life now...a part I didn't know I need, yet I can't imagine it any other way."

Heat sprang unbidden to her cheeks. Her heart fluttered wildly against her chest. Truth be told, she hadn't felt this way since her pre-teen years. That was a long, long time ago. She vividly remembered her wedding with Alexei Shostakov. Both were barely eighteen at the time, yet she couldn't forget the passion that burned vigorously between their gazes. It had intensified when they leaned forward to seal the union.

This time it was Loki who closed the gap between them.

Their lips touched. It was barely a touch, just a light brush. But Natasha felt a thrill that jolted and spread throughout her body like little forks of lightning. Loki pulled back. He wound a hand around her neck and planted a firm yet gentle kiss on her lips. She wanted to return the notion. Her lips parted to welcome him, but a soft moan of pain escaped her throat.

"Don't," he whispered. "It's all right."

She stilled and let Loki spread feathery kisses across her face. Her heart skipped a beat as he kissed along the lengths of her scars. His fingers, cool and soothing, traced her jawline. A shiver ran down her spine. She knew how powerful and capable those hands were; she thought for a moment how he could easily grab hold of her by the head, dig his icy fingers into her skin and rip open her scars again. They had been the same hands that had pounded against the glass cage, as he snarled death threats to her. But Loki was different now. She trusted him enough to accept the new man he was, and he knew that. Simply letting him kiss her was the ultimate sign of trust. She didn't need words to express that.

'So this was what he wanted to say...He loves me.'

The thought invoked pure bliss she hadn't felt in days. Gently and quietly, they broke apart. His eyes were bright, green and close, just inches away from her.

"I'm certain we've gone over ten minutes," he murmured with a little smile. His fingers brushed through her curls. She never knew he could be this soft, tender...and loving. Then he whispered in her ear, "I think I've found Nirvana."

Natasha wasn't sure of what he meant. All she knew was that at this time, in this moment, the two of them couldn't be any happier together.


Clint stormed off to the S.H.I.E.L.D. base, making a beeline for the medical ward. All fatigue and weariness was lost on the archer. He felt foolish for letting Tony's gossip get to him. Still...he was curious. Like a cat. Like everyone in the English-speaking world, he knew that curiosity kills the cat. But there was no turning back now. He had to see for himself...even if what laid ahead of him would change his life forever. Clint was shocked to find her room empty.

'Where could she have gone?'

But the instant he asked himself, he knew the answer. He rushed to the gym, feeling suspicion and dread in his gut. He hammered in the access code. The double doors slid open.

Just in time for him to see Loki and Natasha parting from a slow, intimate and nevertheless passionate kiss.


Yup, it's official. They finally did it! Now Loki doesn't have to suffer from his sexual frustration. :3 But...what's Clint gonna do about it? 0-0

I felt like I've been leaving Natasha out. I tried to bring in her PoV more to balance out the recent Loki-centric plotline. It's BlackFrost, after all.

Orodruin means "fiery mountain." It's another name for Mount Doom in Lord of the Rings. They'll play a bigger role much later...and by later I mean the sequel. ;)

I'm so pumped for Thor 2! I love how they're filming in Iceland. It's such a beautiful country, and what better place to film a Norse movie than the home of the Vikings? I heard that tipping at an Icelandic restaurant is considered an insult. I hope Tom keeps that in mind! I'm pretty sure he does...he's such a gentleman. Aaaagh so perfect.