6. Tickling the Tail of the Dragon


Instead of the forceful kisses Natasha expected, Loki's lips moved over hers with great gentleness. He continued to murmur something in his throat, a constant sound like a purr. It was exciting, it was delicious, it was – mmmm. Her conscious thoughts faded, and all she knew was the feel of long, black hair under her fingers, arms strong as pure silver around her waist and shoulder, soft breath on her cheek, his knowing tongue. It was as though they stood together in a bubble. Time lost all meaning – he could have been claiming her mouth for seconds or hours. Naturally she was incredibly stimulated, but beyond that the experience was almost relaxing as though the universe had at last shifted into the correct alignment, and something missing inside her had been restored.

Loki stopped, put both hands on either side of her face, and held her framed thus in silence. His green eyes were wide and startled, mouth parted with surprise; his perfect beauty broke her heart. She wanted to give him a precious gift, but the only thing she could think of was too frightening to contemplate. The words were impossible to say.

And so Natasha reached for his hand and placed it over her heart, so he could feel how it raced beneath bone and skin. His gaze never left hers; he responded by placing her hand on his chest, to sense the heartbeats there like the thunder of hooves.

She couldn't look away, and the shared moment between them seemed to reach another level - beyond lips and teeth, tears and laughter, quim and cock, Asgard and Midgard. None of that mattered. The moment almost seemed familiar, as though the shared touch had occurred between them countless times before.

Loki opened his mouth and she steeled herself. The woman who had survived the horrors of the Red Room and faced down countless adversaries was terrified of what would come next.

"My mother is on her way to find you," he stated at last in a husky voice.

"Oh," she replied, breaking the glance. Relief and disappointment flooded her veins. "And…"

"And that is all you get from me now, my girl. If I touched you further I would be lost."

Natasha nodded to show she understood, and he stepped away from her. "Queen Frigga told me we would be 'making merry' later, so I guess I have a thing to go to," she commented.

"Ah – a state banquet. You'll have to listen to several bards drone on about Odin's deeds of bravery and watch Volstagg eat his weight in venison. My sympathies."

Her lips twitched. "Thanks. Oh, and I nearly forgot - I have something for you."

The crumpled photo was still in her back pocket. Natasha dug it out and handed it to Loki, and a bright smile illuminated his face when he saw what it was. Turning with one of his quick, sudden moves, he strode to a box over the fireplace. In one motion he flipped up the cover, upended the contents onto the floor, and carefully placed her flimsy picture inside in their place.

Several bright gems cascaded onto the carpet. Natasha exclaimed, got on her knees, and picked up a huge emerald, three diamond rings, a gold watch and chain, and several unknown stones black on the outside but with rainbows glinting in their centers. Loki looked down at her and jibed, "You may keep those, since you insist on picking them up."

"I don't want your jewels." She rose to fling the flashing pile at him, and he caught the pieces in one fist. "However, I prefer the room not to be a shambles when I return to visit you later – try and keep it clean, would you?"

The dimples popped into his cheeks, and he was about to reply when Queen Frigga entered the room. Instantly his expression sobered, became formal, and he bowed slightly.

"It is time for you to be shown to your chambers," the queen said to Natasha, "but my husband and I need to speak with my son first. Lady Sif awaits you in the hall to conduct you there – I shall attend you at dinner, Lady Natasha."

"Lady Sif and a banquet! Oh dear." Loki winked at her, and she sketched him a wave before leaving the room. As she pressed her wrist against the magic seal and felt it yield, she heard him ask, "To what do I owe this pleasure, madam?"

In the hall, a figure with long, tumbling dark curls over silver armour stood with her back to the prisoner's rooms. When Natasha approached, the figure turned to reveal one of the loveliest faces the Russian had ever seen. "Lady Sif?"

The woman nodded. "I am told I must accompany you to your quarters." Her tone showed that she took no pleasure in it.

Natasha raised one eyebrow. "Indeed, I don't mean to put you out."

"Out? Why should I be 'put out'? I only have to inspect the broadswords, finish the new guards' training, tend to my horse, and design weaponry for a cavalry. Naturally, the task of taking a mortal to her dressing room supersedes all of that."

Feeling her temper slip, Natasha shot back, "I am an Avenger as well as a mortal, and I of all people understand the importance of warfare and preparation. Tell me where I am to go, and you may be on your way this instant with my thanks." Drat, she thought, I'm starting to talk like Thor again. It seemed natural inside the enormous golden palace.

Lady Sif raked her up and down with magnificent eyes like stars and said, "You must go through the library, to the right stairway, up three and down two, past the solarium and touch the panel depicting Urd's well, unto the minor passage along the courtyard of living statues, around the Maiden's Chambers, to the fifth room where you must knock twice, wait four counts, and knock thrice. Have you understood?" She smiled with vicious pleasantry.

"Through the library, to the right stairway, up three and down two, past the solarium and touch the panel depicting Urd's well, unto the minor passage along the courtyard of living statues, around the Maiden's Chambers, to the fifth room where I knock twice, wait four counts, and knock three times. Got it. See you at dinner." Natasha gave Sif a firm nod, noted a look of surprise in the warrior's starry eyes, and whisked off to find her rooms.


The bedchamber put aside for her use was even larger than the one in Loki's 'prison'. She found a host of exquisite gowns hanging in a long closet, a massive table covered with gold brushes, combs, and maquillage, and a bed so tall there was a set of steps provided by the side to climb into it. Natasha looked in the clothes in the closet, sighed, and wondered if she could possibly go down to dinner in her jeans.

A side door opened, and Jane slipped in wearing a long blue dress with a round neckline. She saw Natasha and gave her a significant look. "Hey there! Everything go okay with Loki? I couldn't believe all those things about him in your report. And by the way, you do have to change. This banquet thing is a big deal, apparently."

Huffing a quiet howl of frustration, Natasha started to flip through the gowns hanging up in the closet. Before she could choose the plainest dress available, Jane interrupted. "You're supposed to bathe first, too. There's a bathroom in there – I think they call it a water chamber. Probably the tub is ready – mine was when I came in."

"For crying out loud." Natasha whisked a green gown off a hook, threw it on the bed, and stomped to the 'water chamber' where she stopped. "Get the hell out of here! Are you kidding me?"

Jane came up behind her, wrapped an arm around Natasha's waist, and giggled. There was a huge bath shaped like a seashell sunk into the floor, filled to the brim with steaming water. A smell of lavender hung in the air, and long towels hung over what looked like heated racks. "Not so shabby now, is it, girlfriend?"


Bathed and dressed, Natasha followed Jane down the stairs to the staterooms where they were to dine. Thor waited for them at the bottom of the long, spiral staircase, his usual grin displaying his utter joy. "My ladies," he proclaimed. "This will indeed be a night to remember!"

Sif stood behind him. When she caught Natasha's eye, the warrior raised her brows and pointedly turned away.

"The All-Father wants to meet you," Thor added. He held out his arm for Jane, and Natasha followed, looking around and over her head. The hall was as large as a commuter train station, with lanterns hanging above them on long chains, casting a flickering light over the scene.

They stopped in front of Queen Frigga, who stood by her husband's side. "This is Thor's maiden friend," the queen said to Odin, indicating Jane. "And this is the mortal warrior I told you about earlier."

Odin inclined his head gravely. "I have received you both into Asgard as my honored guests. Let us go in to dine, and thence we may converse at our leisure." Thor and Jane prepared to follow, but Odin went on, "Lady Natasha, you require an escort. Volstagg!" He gestured with one arm.

A huge man with a red beard braided into sections draped over a chest as large as a barrel dropped what looked like an entire roast turkey into a trencher and wiped his hands on a proffered cloth. "Aye," he grunted.

"Take this maiden from Midgard in to dine on your arm," Odin proclaimed.

Volstagg caught sight of Natasha and his eyes lit up. "Good tidings, lass," he grinned. "Would'st need a guide throughout t'realm, Volstagg is the warrior for thee – I will slaughter nigh beast nor man what gets between us and a decent dinner. Ask any god or Aesir for leagues, eh lads?"

"Yes, if you like to know where the nearest fleabag tavern is located," Sif murmured, "or if you want your dwelling pulverized when he lets go a sneeze."

"Perhaps he could give me directions," Natasha retorted. "I'm rather good at those."

Volstagg lost the gist of the conversation and prodded Natasha with one thick finger. "Sit at my side, lass, and we shall taste the best of what Asgard has to offer. Eh?"

"Agent Romanova already has an escort," a smooth voice interrupted. Loki appeared at Natasha's elbow and offered his arm. "May I have the honor of taking you in to the banquet, Agent?"

"Why are you here?" Sif asked with a snarl. "I thought you were trussed up like a chicken in your little coop."

"Sif, always so pleasant to chat with you. However we must rush off, alas. Natasha, this way." Loki swiveled and strode towards a huge doorway at the far end of the hall, so quickly she could barely keep up.

"How on earth did you appear?" she asked.

"It seems the report you brought from Midgard was enough to win me my freedom for the evening. Like a chastised horse, the All-Father granted me a release for a few hours. I choose to spend them at your side, unless I am instructed to stand in a corner or beg under the tables with the other lapdogs for scraps." As he bit off his words with a grimace, they entered a dining hall even larger than the long hall. The table ran the length of the room, and Loki paraded her to an ornate chair made of gold, pulled it out, and sat next to her once she was settled. She could see his jaw work as he waited for the rest of the court to take their places at the immense dinner; plainly he was whipping himself into a fit of fury.

"I don't know why you are angry," she said. "This was your intention all along, wasn't it? To have me visit and show your father my report of your deeds in Midgard and to win you some measure of freedom as a result? Don't look so surprised I divined your intentions – I'm not entirely dull-witted, although I do sometimes have trouble keeping up with your moods." As he opened his mouth to retort, she calmly continued, "And before you protest that Odin is not your real father or start to spin your next scheme, consider this – the dinner tonight is probably a test."

"I should say it is definitely a test, and I refuse to submit to it." His frown deepened.

"As a matter of fact I can understand how you feel. I had my own test this afternoon." By this time, the table was filled with a glittering throng, Odin at a huge seat at the head and Frigga at his side. Next to them Thor and Jane were seated, as well as a woman who was so lovely she had to be a goddess. Sif was further down, next to Volstagg and several other warriors.

"Allow me to hazard a guess – Sif put you on your mettle?"

"Yes." Quickly she recounted the story of finding her bedchamber, which seemed to distract him somewhat. "And I know why you choose to lose your temper at an important banquet," she added.

"Oh? You actually think my anger is a deliberate choice?" Loki's head turned quickly to confront her, like a deadly serpent about to strike.

"Mm-hm." Unruffled, she took a small sip of wine from a goblet emblazoned with the figures of a lion and a unicorn. "It's too easy for you otherwise. You have to raise your own stakes and give yourself a bigger challenge so you can tickle the tail of the dragon instead of taking the game as it stands. It's what gets you off, isn't it? Straddling the line of safety and danger so you might tip either way, always just on the verge of losing your balance? I just don't see why you continue to give yourself the same hurdle to vault again and again – I would find that incredibly boring. You could test yourself in so many other ways – you probably thought of seven other schemes just now even as I speak."

"Eight, actually," Loki murmured. "And if you could stop reading my thoughts for a moment, I would appreciate it very much."

Natasha shook her head regretfully. "Can't do that, sorry. I understand your mind too well."

An ironic smile curled his thin lips. "Is this so?"

"This is indeed so. It's a fitful, hazardous place to visit, but I never did enjoy safety very much either. I'd much prefer to ride on the edge of a cliff, much as you…" She stopped with a gasp. Loki had begun to trail his fingers up her leg under the table, touching her inner thigh through the thin material of her new gown. Although no one else could see what he did under the heavy tablecloth, she felt her eyes flash with anger. "Loki, for heaven's sake! It is a state dinner and the first time I meet your parents, have you forgotten? The Queen and the bloody All-Father, for heaven's sake, and you dare to..."

"Oh, do not mind me. I am listening to every word you say, especially when you advised me to find a different dangerous pursuit – and I believe I have found one." His eyes glittered with amusement, as the hand under the long tablecloth worked its way further up to touch her cleft. "Ahhh," Loki breathed as she jumped slightly, "there she is – the one who consumes my thoughts day and night."

"Be careful with your fingers, sir. She may bite or she may tell you a story, but you never know which, do you?"

"A story!" He turned in his seat to fully face hers, and casually he lifted his goblet with his free hand to take a long draft of wine as he measured her with narrowed lids. "I should dearly love to hear what she has to say to me. I would imagine it would be a rousing tale of stars in the darkness - Natasha, what the Hel are you doing?"

She had placed her fingers on his leg under the table, lightly dragging them up to the inseam covering the evidence of his own bulging arousal. "Oh, don't mind me," she echoed in an airy tone. "I'm listening to every word you say."

At that he threw his head back with a shout of laughter, and one of Natasha's rare chuckles escaped her mouth. His humour entirely restored, he covered her hand under the table with his own and leaned dangerously close to her. "Take care, darling – any tales that particular fellow may spin will have a very warm ending."

"Perhaps she and he should have a conversation, in that case, to see who is able to tell the better story…"

Natasha stopped speaking. She realized there was silence throughout the long room, and every single face at the table was turned in her and Loki's direction. Odin wore an expression of astonishment, and Frigga dabbed her eyes with an exquisite handkerchief. Volstagg's mouth hung open. The beautiful goddess Natasha had noticed earlier laughed and toasted them with her wine glass. Jane looked astonished, and Thor had a huge smile on his face.

The god of thunder rose to his feet, grasped his glass, and held it over his head. "My friends, a toast!" he thundered. "To our guests, the lovely women of Midgard!"


NOTE - I love Sif so much: her beauty and courage are intoxicating, and I think she'd be a great friend. However, I also bet she'd be difficult to get to know at first, as Natasha finds here.