9. Violence and Arrogance


The laces of her dress tied, Natasha turned to leave her room and visit Loki. As she crossed her chamber there was a loud hammer of annoyed knocks. Before she could get to the door, it burst open to reveal the god of mischief himself, brimming with bad temper. "What are you doing here?" he shouted, waving one long arm as he strode into her chambers.

Feeling her own anger rise, Natasha slammed the door shut behind him. "Let's not bellow down the hallway, shall we? I prefer to be the only one privileged enough to enjoy your little tantrums. And to answer your question I happen to be getting dressed. Shocking I know, but there it is. Once I was in my clothes, I intended to come and see you. Or would you rather have me march through the palace naked?"

Loki seized her arms in both hands. "Why didn't you get dressed in our chambers below? I can conjure any dress you like."

"Because I wanted to talk to Jane first, and also I knew if I came to your rooms in my muddy armour you would make me take a bath."

He tilted his head back in his usual arrogant manner. "Are you opposed to baths now? You were not last night."

"No, but I knew you would climb into the water with me and we wouldn't get anything else done until midnight at the very least."

His eyes battled with hers for a long moment before he started to laugh. "I cannot deny it. You have thought it all out, I see."

"And how are you out of your prison?" she asked.

A pleased look came into Loki's eyes. "I have been granted liberty within the palace grounds. My freedom, it appears, grows apace. Beware, Natasha – now I shall be able to plague you at all hours. Do you know something? I feel rather sorry for you, darling."

"Do you? I don't. Seeing you chained up even in the luxury you created for yourself went against the ways of nature – it was like watching a phoenix in a cage. I much prefer to see you within the halls of the palace where you should be, Your Royal Badness. Besides, now you have other pursuits for your very extensive energies besides ravishing my body."

His face grew astonished, amused, and lusty by turns while she spoke. It is never necessary to wonder what he thinks, she mused, his face tells me everything I want to know.

"I am indeed released, but I would argue your body remains the focus of my energies – that, and your own sparkling personality. And your lips, and your neck, and the turn of your wrists." He picked up her hand and pressed a passionate kiss on the inside of her arm. "Gods, your skin – you smell like dew and fresh linen." He released her suddenly and looked about the room. "Where is the sword I gave you?"

She pointed to where it lay on a table on an oiled linen cloth. "There. Sif told me I must polish it every night."

Loki crossed the room in several long strides, pausing only to give her a humourous glance. "You will indeed be polishing the sword every night, if I have any say in it." Her gruff guffaw echoed in the chamber, and the dimples appeared in his cheeks. "Behold an example of my swordplay." He hefted the blade in his hand and strutted towards her. With one sure stroke he cleaved the dress she had on from neck to hem, so the gown parted and hung open over her naked body.

Natasha gasped with rage and tried to hold the dress closed over her body. "Loki!" she shouted. "Would you please stop ruining my clothes? And have you any idea how long it took to get dressed in that gown?"

Her wrath only served to make him laugh harder. He dropped the sword, grasped her waist, and his mirth bubbled against her breasts and belly. When he could speak, he looked down at her. "Helping a maiden off with her attire is something I am rather good at. And by the way, I like the stockings – they are a nice touch."

"I meant to surprise you with them later," she said, "but I see you are one of those dreadful people who rip open their presents straight away. Thanks for not eviscerating me with my own sword, by the way." Under her dress she had nothing on save a pair of black stockings gartered at her thighs and silk slippers with jeweled louis heels.

"You are too luscious - I simply must have you this instant." He stripped off the remnants of her dress and tossed her onto the bed. When she landed, she crossed her legs and swung one shoe perilously from her toe.

"Do you like your handiwork?" she asked. "And please notice your tunic is still all in one piece – I do not wave a sword around the room like a buffoon."

"I do indeed like my handiwork, very much." He ripped his tunic into two pieces with one motion and cast the ruined shirt on the floor. As Loki crawled on top of her the swollen arousal in his breeches was very evident. "There, we are even. No more complaints from you, darling." As he bit into her neck and sucked on her lower lip, he added, "Did you think you had tamed me? Silly girl. You have only unleashed the beast."

"I suppose it's all my fault now…" She gasped as he bent and bit the smooth skin just above the black silk of her stocking. "Don't make me scream too loudly. Jane is right next door."

Loki paused and listened intently. Through the wall she heard Thor's low voice and Jane's light laugh, followed by a prolonged silence. "It would seem we are not the only ones engaged in swordplay, darling."

"Hmm. And you could at least take off your pants, if you insist on ripping all my dresses in half."

He held himself up on his arms and looked down at her, considering. "Maybe. Depends on whether you deserve it or no."

"Oh, I think I do." She wound her legs around his waist to dig the heels of her shoes into his back; he groaned and ran his tongue between her breasts, over her stomach to the vibrating flesh betweens her thighs. Natasha grasped the bedpost with one hand, arched up, and covered her mouth with her palm.

At once he reared up and tore her hand away from her face. "I want you to scream. I want the entire palace to know we are lovers."

"I – I – I think they already get the idea…" It was difficult to talk. She had never felt anything more delicious in her life than Loki's skin on hers, the bite of his teeth on her shoulder, her legs wound around his leather breeches, the hot rush of his breath next to her ear, his lips capturing hers, lapped with tongue against soft tongue. The passionate kiss went on and on, their tongues circling, darting, his lips nipping hers. It was frightening, it was dangerous, forbidden – overwhelmingly exciting. So much so that when he slid over the swollen bud of her sex with a mere brush of his thumb, she was so pent-up she came straight away, moaning into his mouth.

His kisses slowed, became gentler, and when she had settled down a bit, he looked into her eyes. "Ah," he said. "Now." Loki guided her hand to the flap of his breeches, and she unbuckled them as quickly as she could to rip the leather off his legs with her shoes.

"You made me wait," she hissed. "I might just punish you for that…" She let her eyes flash as she dug one heel into his thigh, raised her other leg over his shoulder. He would like the strong nature she usually repressed in bed; most men were intimidated, but Loki could match her violent tendencies with his own arrogance.

"I like the shoes," he groaned, "but they are too exciting – darling, I must fuck you this instant." Natasha responded by arching her back again, meeting him halfway as he drove his length into her with one thrust. "Gods! You are so wet, so tight, so wonderful. It is like heaven. I want to do this for hours, I want to be inside you all night long…"

"And you are so hard, you touch me right in the nicest spots, it's so delicious, I never felt anything like this, Loki…"

"Nor have I... and when you writhe like that under me, I think I might lose my mind." Panting, he moved slowly, then quickened his stroke, slowed again in exquisite torture.

Natasha escaped, making him hiss, and pressed him back on the mattress. Swinging one leg over his hips, she lowered herself onto his shaft and swiveled her hips. "Like this? Or more like this?" She changed her rhythm to undulate like a snake, holding Loki's eyes with hers. "You are my captive - I'm going to make you talk if I have to ride you all night..."

"Wait, shh – don't move." He held her hips still, eyes closed, shuddering. At length he recovered himself, breathed out and moved inside her again. "I want to make it last, darling. I want to keep making love to you, it feels too nice to stop."

His voice was like liquid caramel; it poured over her and made her tense with pleasure and draw in a quick, desperate breath. She teetered on the brink, timing it to crash when he was ready. "I mean it," she whispered. "It's like we were made for each other. The perfect fit. I don't want anyone else, ever."

He stopped moving again and looked up at her with wide eyes. "Do you truly mean that?"

"I do." She took a long, sobbing breath. "I was afraid to say it before, but I'm not any longer."

His hand slid behind her head to cradle her into a sweet kiss, and he managed to roll her underneath him again, never breaking the kiss. When his lifted his lips from hers, he said in a hushed tone, the tenderest voice she had ever heard from him, "Natasha. It is impossible for me to hold back the words any longer. You - I must tell you you hold my heart."

As they rocked together, she looked directly in his eyes. "I will slit the throat of anyone who tries to come between us," she promised.

It was too much; her confession drove him over the brink. He understood exactly what she meant to say. With a savage cry he reared up and she felt him spurt into her, hot delirious jets of fulfilled desire. At the same moment she contracted and vibrated around him, shaking with violent passion and love.


When at last they could move again, she evaded his grasp and slid out of bed. Sauntering across the room, she started to flip through the clothes hanging in her closet. Loki vaulted from the pillows to join her, looking with interest at the gowns hanging inside. "Darling, these are tragic. You need something befitting your beauty." With one stroke of his hand, the contents of her closet disappeared.

"Seriously, what is it about you and my clothes here in Asgard? That makes about twenty dresses you have now destroyed – oh." The closet filled again, with silky tunics, light leather pants, soft wool dresses in all colors, riding clothes, and severely fitted jackets.

She turned her face up to him, and his face dimpled at her. "Better? Let me think, now – perhaps this gown in black velvet. Yes, I should like to see your creamy skin and bright hair flame above the dark fabric, like a candle in the night."

Her protests were cut off as he tipped up her chin to kiss her and whisper soft words of love into her neck. "Okaaaaaay," she groaned.


In the hall, Loki held out his arm for her to hold. "You look incredibly beautiful," he said, raking her up and down with his eyes. The dress had wide bands of Scandinavian embroidery under her bust and at the hem. Severely cut to skim her figure, the neckline dipped low in a square just above her breasts; the long black sleeves stopped just at her wrists. The velvet was so soft it swished over her ankles as she walked.

"Are we going to be late for dinner?" Natasha asked.

As he opened his mouth to respond Yes, Jane's door opened. Thor and the scientist stole into the passage; Jane jumped when she saw Natasha on Loki's arm. "Oh! Hi there," she said with studied nonchalance. "We were just reading the scrolls Thor gave me earlier."

"Is that what they call it these days?" Natasha couldn't help asking. Loki immediately started to laugh.

Thor blushed, but Jane crossed her arms. "Really? You're going there? Really, girlfriend? And how was that pent-up energy you mentioned earlier, Natasha?"

Natasha nodded. "Touché."

"We are going to be in trouble," Thor cautioned. "Father does not like it when guests arrive late."

Natasha turned to her lover. "Loki? It's all you."

He threw a ball of light into the air. When it cleared, all four of them stood in front of the dining hall, just as Odin shouted for the throng to go and be seated.

Loki sat at her side; he seemed to have firmly established it as his chosen place. As she slid into her chair next to him, Natasha thought she was starting to become accustomed to Asgard; Freya blew her a kiss, Volstagg bellowed her name and lifted his cup to toast her, and even Sif nodded when Natasha caught her eye. As for the Queen, as soon as she saw the two brothers and their consorts a look of deep satisfaction came into her face.

"Where will we go tonight, darling?" Loki whispered in her ear as they were handed plates of pastries in the shapes of longboats, filled with sauces of different colors. "Your chamber? My former rooms, which you have not seen yet? Some entirely different wing of the palace?"

"Hm." Natasha considered. "If it's not too painful for you, I'd really love to get back to our little nest from last night. I still have a few presents to open as I recall."

His response was to lift her hand to his lips and kiss each fingertip in turn. "Very well. We can settle in together there for the evening as soon as I can steal you away, and I will tell you the story of the Witch in Ironwood Forest. It is a fascinating tale. Vili recounted it to me and Thor when we were boys…"

She watched him speak, his hands moving to help him express his thoughts. His face, as always, reflected each passing idea in his mind. He leaned close to her, touching her shoulder to make his point, and his face looked so young and so handsome she grinned suddenly with pure happiness. He stopped abruptly and gazed at her, open-mouthed.

"Sorry, what were you saying?" she asked.

He shook his head. "I have no idea. I was going on about something which seemed very important at the time, but when you gave me such a lovely smile just now it drove my wits clean out of my head." He kissed her hand again, and whispered, "Are you really so happy?"

She felt her eyes crinkle with joy as she nodded. "Loki, I have never been happier in all my life."


Dancing the Hringr with Loki was quite different from being whirled around by Volstagg. Each time they met in the figure of the dance he gave her a hidden caress, whispered a shocking suggestion in her ear, licked her fingertips or her neck. By the time the music finished Natasha knew she was blushing. Loki commented on it as he escorted her to the side of the room. "Your cheeks bloom like roses, my love. I doubt the gardens of the palace have anything so fair among all the orchard beds and golden fountains."

Instantly she picked up on his line of flirtation. "Cheeks and beds? For shame, sir. No wonder roses bloom when you fertilize your words so." It was too easy to fall into the rhythm of Asgardian speech; what would Clint say if he heard her now speaking like a Shakespearian maiden?

Loki's eyes lit up with another of his easy laughs. "To use a Midgard phrase, are you calling me out with bullsh-?"

His words were cut off. The door to the ballroom opened, and Heimdall entered. Instantly the musicians stopped playing, and all conversation ceased.

Sif stepped forward. "Well, brother? Why are you here – what message have you?"

Loki drew in a long breath like a death rattle. "No," he whispered, and with both arms he drew Natasha closer.

Heimdall pointed across the room to the Black Widow. "She must return to Midgard now," he stated. As soon as the words were spoken, Loki's arms wound around Natasha's waist to hold her close to his side.

The queen stepped forward, a line slicing her forehead with worry. "This very moment? Can we not finish the dance, allow her to stay until matins?"

The god shook his head. "Nay, Queen Frigga. It was very clear – she must return as she stands without tarry."

Volstagg threw the glass he held on the floor, where it shattered with a loud crash. "If she needs a champion, the Warriors Three shall stand for Lady Natasha at a moment's notice."

Sif joined him. "She proved her mettle today on the jousting fields. I would request her to return to us as soon as she is able to continue her training as a knight."

"And I stand for her as well," Thor said. "If she needs an escort, Jane and I will attend her."

"Absolutely," Jane agreed. "I need to return in any case, and now is as good a time as any."

"Heimdall," Frigga insisted, "you are to return Lady Natasha to us the instant she requests it on Midgard. One word from her, and you whisk her back to us in Asgard. Do you understand?"

The huge guard bowed. "Aye, my Queen."