9 Heart
In very rare instances lithium can cause Brugada syndrome, a potentially fatal abnormality in the electrical activity of the heart.
"They are out among the trees, searching for us." Loki stood against the dark glass, looking out into the forest.
"Who are 'they'?" Natasha put down the slim, leather notebook he had conjured for her and marked her place with her pen. "I know at least one of them must be from Asgard, because you're here. So it can't be a Midgard op, unless someone figured out how to access the Bifrost…"
His face lit with laughter as he turned away from the window. "Midgard op – Bifrost – you speak like an Aesir already. And I am not certain of their identities, but I am certain you will discover the truth eventually."
Natasha tilted her head to one side, observing him. "Will they find us or does your magic still hold? Are we protected?"
"It still holds. And we are protected." Loki bent and kissed her, dragging her head back with one fist in her hair to bite her throat. "Tomorrow we will be able to return to our lives, but for now we must spend one last night together."
"Oh, of course we do." She freed herself, stood, and crossed the room restlessly. "And if we stepped outside we would be instantly set upon by a marauding horde, I suppose? My, how convenient for you."
"Of course. Much as I would like to escort you to a fine tavern, ply you with priceless wines and buy you diamonds, we must hide out for the next few hours. However, Agent, I will make it worth your time."
"That's fine – I don't need any diamonds." She returned to face him, fisted his collar, and pulled him to the seat running along the window. "Tell me something, Loki. Will you give me the files you stole from the hospital before you return to Asgard?"
"Before we return to Asgard," he corrected her.
Natasha stared at him for a moment. "I can't go with you. My life is SHIELD – I am an agent before anything else."
Loki spread long fingers over her thigh. Under his thumb she felt the slight sting of the runic mark he had left there; it made her heart and clit flutter, both at once. "And my life is to rule Asgard. Are you so certain you want to let me return alone?" His gaze darkened with intensity.
"Listen. Last night was - it was good. Unexpectedly so. I want to ... the thing is ... as a SHIELD agent my work comes first." She leaned forward and touched her lips to his. "Any chance you and I could have that date without leaving the safe house?"
When Natasha emerged from a long bath she found a white dress lying across the bed, cut to plunge between her breasts and bare her back. Loki insisted on toweling her dry and dressing her in the gown, his touch lingering on the rune mark. He was already dressed in a white shirt and slim dark tie, hair clean and soft against his neck.
"Come here." Loki drew Natasha's hand through his arm and pulled her to a long mirror on the wall where she saw their reflections side by side – a slender couple in black and white. "Our eyes are the same color," he pointed out, "and we wear the same expression. Except for the hair, we could be twins."
She didn't want to admit it, but she saw what he meant; they both bore the same wary, searching look as though they were exhausted from pain and Fate's betrayal. To tell him so would reveal too much of her past, so she turned it into a breezy joke. "Twins, huh? That explains a lot. No wonder you're so attracted to me."
Loki created a table filled with steaming plates, chilled oysters and the fine wine he had promised: red, molten with age and luxury, poured into crystal goblets. The glass was heavy in her palm as she measured the vintage on her tongue. "Tell me what really happened in Asgard," Natasha insisted.
Loki picked up an oyster shell, cupped her chin, and slid the contents into her mouth. "Thor thinks I am dead, as you discovered. The rest of the realm believes Odin sits on the throne."
Natasha swallowed, drank more wine. "And neither of those things are true." She clasped her hands and leaned her chin on them, knowing the movement would allow him to watch her breasts against the white silk. "Why is it so important to you to become the AllFather?"
"I had to sit by and watch the realms be mismanaged since I was a youth, Asgard above all." Loki's nostrils flared as he cut his steak with simmering violence. "It is time someone put it to rights, and I have been given the chance at last."
"I find it difficult to imagine you turning away from trickery to the serious business of running the nine realms - but I'll let that go for now. What of the person – or Aesir, or whatever – who imprisoned us in that hospital?"
He lifted his shoulders. "What of it? I have a few suspicions. Perhaps it was Amora – an enchantress in my world. Her magic would be strong enough to reach Midgard, contact the insane doctor, and set up the hospital."
"But why? That's a lot of work to put me and you into a dreary asylum." Natasha sliced her own steak and ate a small bite, nearly moaning at how tender it was.
"Maybe she has an idea of what truly happened to me and wants to get the object of her affections onto the throne instead."
"The object of her affections," Natasha mused. "Thor?"
"Yes, Thor." He pushed his plate away and lifted his glass to touch the rim of hers. "They are all in love with him in Asgard, you know."
"Oh." Natasha didn't give a shit about Thor's love life. "That makes sense, I suppose – but why were Maria and I dragged in as well? If someone wanted to bury you undercover so they could place Thor – or even their own puppet king – on the throne, my presence would confuse the entire operation."
"Maybe Amora, or whomever it was, decided to make certain you wouldn't be called in on the case."
"No." She shook her head. "That's not logical. If no one knew you were alive except this one mythical being – okay, I'll say Amora for now – it would be perfect. Get you into the hospital, take away your own powers, drug you up, tempt you with pretty nurses – it could have gone on for years. Your supposed death would be the perfect cover. And if you did escape, who would ever believe anything a refugee from the mental institution said?"
Loki nodded. "It is a conundrum, I must admit." His face dimpled with his charming smile, and he added, "Always the special agent. Natasha, come to Asgard and rule with me. I saw you in that place wearing a hospital gown as though it were silk and velvet robes. You are born to be a queen – my queen."
She clinked her glass with his but shook her head. "I was born to be an agent. I'm damn good at it – and I won't give it up. I want to untangle our little conundrum, to use your word. I'm gonna find the enhanced lithium and destroy the entire cache while making certain all the prisoners in that place are safe, especially those in the solitary rooms on the top floor where I was held. Besides, I'm really doing you a favor if you think about it. You'd get bored of me eventually, just as you did with Rebecca…"
"No. Stop – do not even say such a thing." Loki threw down his fork and sat back, his legs splayed on the chair. "Did you ever look up at the stars?"
"Well, yes, as a matter of fact I have."
"And did you ever consider their beauty, their infinite majesty?"
"Yes," she replied slowly. "Once, in Russia, I stole out and spent the night on a hill watching the planets and constellations wheel overhead. It was cold, and the dew soaked through my skirt and stockings. Still, I felt I soared above the ground, as though I was falling into a well of stars – got in a lot of trouble for it, later," she concluded.
"Natasha, that is what I see when I talk to you. Each thing you say is filled with possibility, a starting point with thousands of directions. And just as the sky you watched in Russia was a mere slice of the universe, I know the short time we spend together reveals just a tiny portion of the masterpiece that you are inside. Truth be told, I knew it right away. Why do you think I admitted to you I held the throne of Asgard as soon as we spoke inside that hospital? You were the first – and only – being I told."
She put her wineglass down and sat back, winded by what he said. Loki was right – in his case, at least, she had seen only the tiniest fraction of the amazing, complex mind inside his head. Together they could explore worlds, concepts, art, poetry, music, possibilities beyond counting.
"Yes," he breathed, as though he knew what orbited through her mind. "Furthermore…" Loki curled his fingers around the back of her neck, drew her in for a long kiss. He tasted like wine with the added flavor of male tongue. The promise was implicit – while they explored their personalities, they would spend her lifetime learning each other's bodies as well.
"No." She released herself, sighed, and sat back. "I can't. Above all else I work for SHIELD. It's what I am – it defines me."
"Little idiot." He shook her slightly, his hand still on her neck. "Don't you see that as Queen of the Nine Realms of Yggdrasil you could fight crime and evil more completely than you or anyone inside that organization ever dreamed?" Suddenly he pulled her chair next to his so he could kiss her eyelids. "I do not ask you to stop being an agent. I only ask you to become my partner on top of it. Natasha, do you know how many goddesses – and gods as well – would kill to have this offered to them? I am handing you the cosmos on a plate."
"I…"
"Be quiet. Do not answer me now." He spanned her waist, touched her breasts through the neckline of the dress, slid his thumb over the rune on her thigh. At that, her entire body shivered; obviously he had left some sort of enchantment there as well as the mark.
She managed to break away from his kiss. "That's not fair, using erotic magic like that. What does that rune mean, anyway?"
"Most importantly, that you are mine. Beyond that, Kenaz denotes fire, energy, and passion."
"Yeah. Passion, huh? So, I'm hosed, pretty much. Whenever you touch my little tattoo there, I'm going to turn to jelly and fall into your arms, right? You set me up, didn't you?"
His tug yanked her dress up to her hips and lifted her so Natasha sat astride him on the chair. "Yes, but you will enjoy it." Loki laughed, his breath warm on her face.
Natasha tilted her hips forward to feel Loki harden beneath her and showed him the steak knife she had secreted from the table in her wrist. "You said we were twins," she purred. "It's time for me to leave my mark on you. Tell me, Loki, if I had a rune – which would it be?"
He gasped and pushed up between her thighs; she could feel his erection grow next to the white silk lapping her legs. "Perhaps Eihwaz, for endurance, protection. Someone who can be trusted. Or Perthro, for secret matters. A mystery."
"A mystery." Natasha liked that. "Show me how to draw it."
Reaching around her, he dipped his finger in the wine and drew a spiked symbol on the tablecloth; it looked like a cup balanced on its side. "Do you claim this rune as yours, Agent?"
"I do." Natasha undid his tie to pull his shirt open, licked the knife, and placed it flat against his skin. "Perthro – it's mine. I claim it. Now, make this blade sharper with your magic - it will be easier for you."
"Natasha." His voice was a whimper; he would break down soon if she didn't hurry. The steak knife shimmered and became a dagger engraved with strange symbols, glinting in the candlelight.
She slid the point over his heart; the white skin trembled and dimpled with goosebumps. The first incision made Loki curse in the same unknown language he used earlier. He managed to hold still as she wiped the blood with her napkin and added the flourishes on each end. As she sliced his flesh, she whispered in English and Russian how proud she was of him, how well he was doing, what a perfect canvas his body made for her blade.
When she finished and threw down the dagger down to land, quivering, on its point in the wood of the floor, Loki rose with her legs wound around his waist and pushed the dishes and glasses onto the floor with one sweep of his arm. Natasha meant to fetch him a bandage or at least wipe off the blood streaming down his chest, but there was no time. His wide eyes and panting breath betrayed his desperation. Balancing her hips on the table, he ripped her dress up over her cleft and fumbled at his breeches with one shaking hand.
"Let me," she demanded. Natasha undid the buckle, pulled his belt out and looped it in one smooth motion. Using the thick leather, she tilted his chin up to kiss him, and as he entered her she felt his blood smear over the white dress like the tracks of a fox escaped from a trap, running through the snow.
"Mine," he said against her lips. "You are mine, whether you come with me or not."
"Leave the scar," Natasha ordered. She lay on her stomach in the bed, playing with Loki's hair. "I mean it – don't touch it with your magic. I want it to stay on your skin."
"I was not going to." His voice was unusually soft. "It is far too nice a gift, and your debt to me is completely paid. Although while the wound is still open I want to add something to enhance it. Agent, give me your hand."
Curious, Natasha held out one arm. He caught her fingers and held it over the rune she had cut; a red and green haze swirled from their interlaced fingers and seeped into the wounded skin before the smoke disappeared. "What was that?" she asked.
"Now your little work of art will have the same effect on me as my rune on your thigh does to you." At that thought Natasha couldn't help grinning; the flesh between her legs swelled as she bent forward to lick the knife marks on his chest. She could taste a buzz on her lips – perhaps the last flicker of the enchantment.
"But I have a demand for you too," Loki insisted. "I do not want you to let anyone see the mark I gave you. No one. It is for us only." He turned her on her back and covered the Kenaz rune with his palm, causing her to shudder with desire.
"I wasn't going to," Natasha declared. "This is for us only, as you say."
His eyes closed for a moment. "We speak as though we already know what is going to happen tomorrow. Can you really watch me leave for Asgard? Feel the silence and isolation surge back in my absence? No more kisses or conversation between us?"
She wrapped her arms around him and dug her nails into his back. "I don't have another choice."
"Yes, you do."
"No. I have made up my mind."
His lips drew back in a snarl. "I should call you a fool, except you are not. By all the moons in the realms! Will you not reconsider? Do you not want to be with me?"
"I do, very much, but I have a job. And I'm good at it."
"And you can turn away from me so easily?"
"Not easily, no."
Loki kissed her earlobe, licked her neck, blew on it. "Much as I dislike to admit it, you are far stronger than I am, Agent."
His cold breath on her throat caused little shivers to run up her legs and make her stomach tremble. "I do have one question," she managed to say.
"Well?"
"Who entered the safe house first?"
That made his lips curve in a wicked smile. "We came in together since I carried you. I suppose we both won the bet."
"And do I get to demand something from you?"
Again that wary look in his eyes. "What is it?" he asked cautiously.
"I would ask you to leave my realm alone," Natasha mused. "No more invasions, no more wars between Asgard and Midgard. But I also want that memory stick with the files."
"Which do you want more?"
"I want both." She held his gaze.
He nodded. "I agree to your first request. As long as your realm does not attack mine, you can say you have brokered peace between us. But, Natasha, I have my demand as well."
"Okay, what is it?"
"You will come and visit me in Asgard. I want to fuck you in my realm and on my terms, show you what it is to ride a king."
The crude word Loki used coupled with his delicate bone structure and feminine beauty made her mad with lust. The rune on her thigh burned under his demanding fingers as he stroked her skin of her legs and between her lips down there. "I – I don't care about kings. But I agree…" The words were forced out of her as she interrupted herself to kiss him deeply.
Although they had just finished, he entered her again with a single thrust, and she moaned as she felt his thick head hit that delicious spot inside, the one only he seemed able to find. The sensation made her ache with pleasure. "And you already know I will find you if you try to escape. I do what I want." His whisper was breathless, blanketed with desire.
She pushed him up so she could drag her nails across his wound, her gift, making him shiver violently. "There's no need for any threats. You can rely on my word, Loki." His only response was to groan and kiss her more sweetly, almost as though his thoughts were too intense for mere speech.
The morning would bring a cold journey back to Stark Tower, the long debriefing, an endless series of strategies and legal complications as she worked to bring the hospital down and free the patients. But for a few final, stolen hours she could fly in his arms, soar in the endless, starry sky that was Loki's mind.
Something nudged her hand, and Loki folded her fingers over the object – a small, plastic rectangle. A rush of unknown emotion, hot and sweet, filled her throat. "You can rely on me," she repeated.
Loki brought his forehead to hers so their green eyes could stare into the other half: the mysterious twin, the alien lover. "'Rely on you'," he repeated. "Yes, I know I can. Natasha, my Agent, my queen."
END
NOTE - Not a traditionally happy ending, but with these two original beings it just seemed natural for things to flow this way. And I have written a sequel... but more on that later.