Blue On Blue

Loki/Nebula

Lobula? Noki? Lokibula? They all sound so dumb. Or like a fashionable Japanese restaurant - wait, no, that's Nobu...

I think I'll go with Nebuloki; sounds like the best of a bad lot!

Theme song:

Eiffel 65 - Blue (I had to do it!)

Inspired by poet Shel Silverstein:

"She had blue skin.

And so did he.

He kept it hid,

And so did she.

They searched for blue

Their whole life through,

Then passed right by -

And never knew."

Loki attempted to disguise his sigh of boredom as yet another delegate stood to address the assembled crowd of Important Notables from this quadrant of the galaxy. The seating arrangements had been bad enough; Sif had suggested just seating everyone in alphabetical order. Even Fandral had snorted with laughter at that one, pointing out that would mean Yandos and Yandira would be seated next to each other. Considering the ceasefire both sides were itching for an excuse to break, that would be one of the worse ideas in recent diplomatic history.

No, it had fallen to Loki to arrange seating, with subtlety and guile; Asgard was hosting this event and it was Asgard's place to decide who took precedence. Frigga had taught him well, he thought with sorrow-tinged pride as Odin gave him an approving nod on looking over the arrangements. This had once been a task of Frigga's, one which she had performed with the grace and brilliance that had characterised her reign as Odin's queen.

Loki knew Odin was thinking of Frigga too as his face turned sorrowful for a moment, but then he touched Loki on the shoulder and passed on by, smiling in welcoming greeting to Nova Prime.

How did you hide your boredom at these interminable speeches, Mother? Loki thought, fighting to stay upright and keep a faint, interested smile on his face as the delegate from Seti IV waffled on and on. More importantly, how shall I? He debated slapping on an illusion, but… no, best not. There were at least some races present who were immune to magic.

And then his attention was caught, as a slender form slipped between the seats, bent to whisper in the ear of a delegate, and darted gracefully out again a moment later.

She's blue. He blinked, thinking it was a trick of the light, because the being was too humanoid to be Kree, Jotunn - not that Jotunns were invited - Interdite, Pheragot, Sark - too small to be Centaurian - she could be Levian but they were usually more turquoise… he craned his neck to get a glimpse of her as she passed into the brighter-lit hallway outside. Definitely blue, maybe even a bit on the purple side. How intriguing.

He looked for the blue girl again at the dinner that followed the interminable greeting ceremony, but didn't see her anywhere. It wasn't until he returned to his own quarters that he realised she must be an aide to a delegate rather than a delegate herself, and as such wouldn't be officially invited to the dinner. Frustrated, Loki decided to watch out for her in the coming days.

He caught a glimpse of her two days later, disappearing around a corner in the distance. Pursuing, unfortunately, was not an option as he was locked in the middle of a tricky negotiation with the Praxian delegate.

Early the following morning, he was sure he spotted her on the roof. Since he was in the courtyard at the time and lacked the ability to fly (thank you, Thor, for the regular reminders) there was little point in trying to reach her.

Three days later, the event was almost over, and Loki almost despairing at ever catching more than a fleeting glimpse of the elusive blue woman, when Fandral dropped into the chair beside him at the midday meal.

"You've been looking decidedly glum the last few days, my friend; decided that politics is not to your taste after all?" Fandral asked cheerfully.

"It's been very interesting, actually," Loki said truthfully, and then it occurred to him that the man sitting beside him seemed to be a magnet for females of any race. "Fandral - there's a woman here I am curious about. She's blue, and humanoid…"

Fandral shuddered dramatically. "Nebula! Odin's eye, Loki, steer clear of that one!"

"Why?" because suddenly he saw her, standing in the doorway. Never taking his eyes off her, Loki stood, fully intending to go over and speak to her.

"She's a Galaxy-class assassin, it's the worst-kept secret at the conference… Loki!"

Fandral stared at his friend's rapidly retreating back. "Well," he shrugged after a moment. "I suppose, if you like that sort of thing…"

She'd seen him watching her, of course. Nebula was aware of everything that went on around her, and Loki, Prince of Asgard, was hard to miss. The way everyone quieted when he was near, looked at him respectfully and listened when he spoke; that alone would have been enough, but he had a physical presence too. While his height was not excessive when compared with many races, he had a commanding mien and his green eyes were absolutely piercing, his face expressionate when he wanted it to be. To be the target of the Prince's displeasure was a formidable deterrent to bad behaviour, she thought.

Nebula grimaced when she saw him striding towards her. Her presence here was technically a breach of several interstellar diplomatic treaties, but she wasn't here to kill anyone. She was trying to give up that sort of thing. Play it straight, for the first time in her life. She certainly wasn't going to race back to Thanos' side now that Gamora and her odd bunch of friends had rid her of Ronan's leash.

"Lady Nebula," Loki's voice said not far behind her, and she sighed inwardly.

Dammit. I knew telling Fandral my name was a mistake.

Slowly, Nebula turned around, saw Loki just a few steps away. He wasn't all that much taller than she, only three or four inches, but he'd caught up with her easily, his strides long and swift.

"Your Highness." She offered him a courteous bow. "May I help you?"

He seemed strangely lost for words, just staring at her. Self-conscious about the scars on her face, about her cybernetic arm, Nebula began to feel defensive. When he had not spoken for a full two minutes, she snapped.

"What are you staring at?"

"The most beautiful woman I've ever seen." His response was quick - and sincere.

For days she'd been watching him lie and double-talk, spin unpalatable truths and mouth insincere platitudes; the language of diplomacy, smooth and practised. The words he'd just said to her, though - they'd come from his heart. Shocked to the core, Nebula stared back at him.

"I'm…" she couldn't think of what to say. Nobody, in the whole of her life that she could remember, had ever called her beautiful. Not before her scars and not after.

"You're Luphomoid, aren't you?" Loki said when she stopped and seemed lost for words. "I haven't seen one of your kind in - three, four hundred years?"

"There are none of us left, save me. Galactus destroyed our homeworld. My father, my mother and my uncle were away on a diplomatic mission. Thanos killed them and took me for his adopted daughter." She'd said it enough times that the words no longer hurt. They were just words. If she kept telling herself that, she thought, one day it might be true.

"Ahhh," he nodded slowly. "That Nebula. I've heard of you, and your sister Gamora. Nobody told me, though, how beautiful you are."

"You're being ridiculous," she snapped, certain now that he was mocking her. "Gamora's the beauty in the family."

"I prefer blue to green." He looked down at his green robes, then, and grinned, as though realising how ridiculous he'd just made himself sound. "Would you honour me with your presence this evening, at dinner?"

She had absolutely no idea what mad impulse drove her to say yes.

That evening, a polite servant arrived at her quarters and indicated that she should follow him; biting on her lower lip uncertainly, Nebula followed. She felt even more uncertain when she realised she was being led into a restricted section of the palace. The royal family's private suites.

The servant knocked at a door and backed away, bowing politely again before departing silently. Nebula debated just running for it - she who'd never run from a fight in her life - until the door opened slightly and she saw Loki standing there.

He was less formally clad than the state robes she'd seen him in all week, a white shirt with a black and silver waistcoat over it, plain black trews and boots. His silky dark hair fell smoothly to his shoulders, framing his pale face. Self-conscious about her own bald, burned scalp, Nebula looked a little enviously at that hair.

"Your Highness," she said politely.

"Lady Nebula. Please." He stepped back and gestured to her to step inside; closing the door behind her when she did so.

The room was simply set; an elegant wooden table with two chairs, some covered plates on the table. Soft lighting and fresh blooms in vases, releasing a potent, sensual scent into the air.

"I took the liberty of selecting a few dishes," Loki said pleasantly, "I hope that you may find something to tempt your appetite."

She was the temptation, he thought, wearing a dress in a blue-violet fabric just a few shades darker than her amazing skin, softly clinging to her sinuous, lean body. Her long, slim throat was bared, but long sleeves clung to her arms and ended in thin gloves - of course, he remembered, one of them was cybernetic. Obviously she preferred to conceal it whenever she could, though she couldn't conceal her cybernetic eye.

"Why am I here?" she turned on him suddenly, huge black eyes flashing. "Do you think I am here on Asgard to kill someone? Is that what this is about? I'm not. I don't do that any more."

"Indeed?" he looked at her with raised eyebrows. "That's interesting, but no, my lady, that's not why I invited you here." Taking a deep breath, Loki tried to relax himself - and slowly let go of his illusions, the illusions he wore so constantly that he felt curiously naked without them.

Nebula's jaw dropped as the colour slowly flooded into his skin, as the ridges appeared on his brow and nose. As his eyes burned red.

"Jotunn," she whispered, utterly shocked. "How - when…"

"A thousand years ago, and more, in the last war that Asgard fought with the Frost Giants, Odin found a child. A baby, abandoned to die in a temple. He chose to save the child, to bring him home, and Queen Frigga, may she ever rest in peace, raised me as her own, alongside Thor. My lady mother gifted me with her magic so that I might walk freely among Asgardians without being reviled for my appearance."

Nebula nodded slowly, never taking her eyes from his face. "You - you're magnificent," she breathed in awe. She'd never seen a Jotunn for herself, only pictures, and she thought that Loki looked very short to be a Frost Giant, but still - he was glorious.

"As are you, my lady," Loki's mouth quirked in a smile. "Perhaps you understand, now, why you intrigue me so. You walk proudly in your skin, uncaring that any who see you will know you for what you are. I am the only member of my race free to walk among the wider galactic population, as are you - and yet I am not free."

"You're wrong," she said fiercely. "Do you know how it is to have everyone look at you and see only the scars? See only the last survivor of a dead race, one who has outlived her time and now is considered nothing more than a tool for those more powerful? You do not know how lucky you are, Your Highness. Your magic enables you to walk wherever you wish, without being stared at like a carnival freak!"

"And yet, here I am, constrained to Asgard," he gestured.

Nebula laughed. "What would I not give, to have such as my home!"

"It could be," he said quietly, and he reached for her hand, obviously intending to lift it to his lips.

Arrested, they stared at each other as patterns began to crawl over their hands; a lighter blue over Nebula's, a purple-violet over Loki's.

"I knew there was a reason I could not take my eyes off you," Loki said, awed. "Aside from your beauty, that is."

"Not beautiful," she tried to deny again, and he shook his head.

"See yourself through my eyes, Lady Nebula. You are grace personified, the lethal grace of a snake waiting to strike. I cannot look away." Finally, he completed the movement. Lifted her hand to his lips. She shivered a little at the chill he imparted, but it wasn't unbearable. It was - quite arousing, in fact. Her lips parted.

"Loki," she said his name at last, a thready gasp, and he sighed with pleasure, pulled lightly on her hand to draw her a little closer. Slipped a long arm around her waist and bent his head to take her lips with his own.

Note: All these races Loki thought of when wondering what Nebula was were mentioned by Lady Sif as being blue in Agents of SHIELD S01E15.