Thanks so much to nightmareofcat, Moriarty-assbutt, Esha Napoleon, and thephoenixandthedragon4ever for your comments and reviews. A round of Loki-tinis for all! *clink*
16. The Witch of Ironwood Forest
"Why are you still here?" Loki refused to look at her.
Natasha wouldn't let emotion tinge her voice. She knew it would be best if she spoke to him in a monotone, as she often did on a case confronting an emotional mark. "Rant and threaten all you want, but you will not chase me away." She was about to add something else when there was a footstep behind her.
"Lady Natasha!" Frigga came into the room, her beautiful face filled with relief. "I was afraid you might be…"
"Dead? And by my hand? Slain by a monster, is that it?" Loki confronted the queen, his eyes reddened with sorrow.
Odin came into the room as well to stand by his wife. Great, Natasha thought, that's all we need. "Our concern is for you as well, Loki. We offer our forgiveness that you ruined your own betrothal banquet this evening."
"Excuse me, All-Father Odin." Natasha leapt to her feet. "Loki did not ruin anything. That was done for him by Angrboda, in case you have forgotten. And do you blame him? I would be spitting nails myself. Good thing I didn't have a gun in my hand, or that banquet hall would have been used for some serious target practice."
Loki gave an ironic crack of laughter and flung one hand out towards Natasha. "And this is the bride I hoped to secure! This courageous girl, who looked upon the troll-woman of Ironwood with such bravery, who saw me spew such insane and angry hatred - yet she still springs to my defense even now. Her soul, pure as that of a knight, I hoped to cleave to mine throughout the ages before it was snatched from me this night at the very moment of taking."
"I will still marry you, Loki," Natasha said levelly. "I don't give a single shit about the curse – we can live like brother and sister for all I care. I'll sleep in separate rooms and we can write, read, play Hnefatafl together - maybe pick up a case from SHIELD as well."
His eyes softened, and he reached for her hand. As his fingers touched her skin, Natasha couldn't help hissing with pain; the marks on her wrist glowed briefly like live coals at the merest brush of his fingertips.
"Nay. It will not work. How can I of all the gods in Asgard keep my hands to myself next to you?" Loki retreated, and his face was very pale. "And how can I ask that of you as well?"
"Let me see the marks," Frigga insisted. She reached for Natasha's arm and studied it. "Uruz, for lust. Thurisaz, danger and betrayal, also evil and torment. Hagalaz, suffering disease and disaster. They are all Merkstave – and all are bound to flesh and the bone beneath it. Alas, Angrboda thought long and hard about halting all physical interaction between you and my son."
Despite his anger, a flicker of interest and forlorn hope appeared in Loki's eyes. "Can you reverse the Merkstave to Elder Futhark?"
"What does that mean?" Natasha held her breath as Frigga gently touched the three red marks.
"The runes are now Merkstave or engraved backwards, giving them untold power for evil. If I could reverse them again, their meanings will change to the positive forms of freedom, erotic will, and testing – a trial." She concentrated, and Natasha cried out as Frigga's hand hovered over her arm. The pain in her wrist was nasty – a disgusting feeling, as though an infection boiled under the red marks.
After a long silence, Frigga shook her head and let go. "Nay, I can do nothing to sway their curse. Angrboda worked her will too strongly – I fear the runes must stay as they are."
Natasha felt her own anger explode, and she slammed her affected fist palm up on a nearby table. "Well, just cut the fucking thing off here and now with your sword and be done with it!" she cried.
"No!" Loki surged forward. "No, I will not allow it. You will not disfigure yourself for me… Natasha, I will slaughter my former wife for all of this. It has nothing to do with you. Please, will you forgive me?"
"There is nothing to forgive. We are in this together, Loki."
"But my behaviour in the banquet – Father," he added, turning to Odin. "You saw. All was well for one brief heartbeat. You and I were so close to achieving an alliance – I meant to embrace you after your speech, to end the bad blood between us. It was to be a new beginning, a Karongar."
"What is Karongar?" Natasha whispered.
"The opposite of Ragnorak," Frigga said. One tear ran down her cheek, and she stepped forward to embrace her son. "We did recognize all those emotions and futures for you, Loki, and we rejoiced on it. To have it all stolen away at the moment of giving would enrage anyone, let alone ... Do not be sorry. I see now your betrothed is right, and you hold no fault in this."
"I still think it would be easiest if someone just lopped off my arm. I have another one," Natasha insisted. "I'll do it myself if no one steps forward."
Frigga shook her head. "Nay. As I said, the curse is now sunk to your very bones. Your entire body bears the mark of Angrboda's evil."
Odin swiped one hand over his face and sat suddenly in a cushioned chair. "This is indeed a tangle. What is to be done?"
"It seems we have two choices, neither very attractive. Either Natasha marries me to live her life in enforced solitude as a nun, or she returns to Midgard on her own. I cannot have her within my sight if she is not to be mine." Loki spoke with great certainty; Natasha knew when he used that tone there was no changing his mind. "We simply have to choose the lesser of two evils."
"I refuse to accept it," she countered. "You yourself taught me to widen my possibilities, not to narrow them. It is how you win at Hnefatafl, am I right?"
"This is not a game." His voice grew colder. Obviously he had decided to shut her out, for her own good perhaps; Natasha suspected it was his perverted way of being noble. "And perhaps you do not understand I no longer desire you, Mortal. It is time for you to leave me and Asgard, to return to your own realm."
"Oh, stop it already with the insults you do not really mean," Natasha said tiredly. "I have neither the time or inclination for them, nor do you. It is imperative to look at this from a different angle, to take it to a whole new level. No, do not interrupt me again, Loki, or you'll just get me really pissed off. The game can lead us to another possibility. There must be another option. Someone mentioned Ironwood just now. Is that where Angrboda lives?"
"She is one of the troll-sisters who came from there. As far as anyone knows, the wood is deserted." Odin shook his head. "I am afraid Loki is correct, and there is nothing to be done."
"No." Loki looked up, a slight glimmer of hope in his eyes. "There is a witch in Ironwood Forest, the last surviving sister of the troll clan. Do you remember I told you the tale about her a few weeks ago, Natasha? Do you think there is a chance she could be found?"
"Yeah. Yeah, I do," she agreed. "I bet she's still there. In any case, I'm not going to lie about here any longer moaning on about fate and bad luck. I've got a couple of things on my agenda: One, get the hell out of this dress, and Two, saddle up and head out to Ironwood."
"This seems completely far-fetched! And when you arrive? What then?" Odin asked.
"I don't know - I'm making this up as I go along. I'll just take my ass into that forest wherever the fuck it may be, begging your Majesties' pardon, and I'll find Angrboda's sorority sister. Then I'll do whatever I have to in order to get the bitch to talk to me. I'm pretty good at that."
"Natasha!" Loki's face flushed with excitement, and he knelt in front of her. "You are a hero, a goddess of wisdom and bravery. And I of all people can attest that you are, indeed, 'pretty good at that'."
She gazed down at him and let her lips spread slightly. "It would really help if you came along and showed me the way. I'll go alone if I must, but to have you with me would be huge. We work well together, Mischief."
At the sound of the pet name he rose swiftly to move away from her. "I cannot," he murmured. "You and I among the trees – 'twould be a disaster in the making."
Natasha glanced at Frigga and Odin, somewhat embarrassed. "There has to be a way," she insisted.
The silence surged back as they concentrated. Odin's one eye closed. Best not be going into that sleep thing now, All-Father, she thought. Frigga went to the shelves, as though to search the volumes there for inspiration. Loki tapped one finger against his lips. Natasha thought of chilled vodka and how she could really use a tall drink.
"What is that music?" Odin asked suddenly. "So soft and so sad. It makes me think of my sorrow years ago when Fenrir was slain."
"I think you mean the little orchestra of mice in the other room. Loki made them for me as a present."
At Natasha's words, Loki looked up with a gleam in his eyes. "Mice!" he cried. "Of course. I can go with you, darling, although it will mean a bit of juggling on your part. You will need to saddle and ride Sleipnir, but my son will carry you faithfully – and me with you. The three of us will go together on your quest, to set out for adventure and destroy the marks on your wrist."
The bitter, ironic tone and sharp anger in his voice had disappeared. His laugh rang out in the room, and Natasha smiled. "Now you sound like the Loki I know. But what is your idea?"
Slyly, Loki darted a glance at his mother. "You shall attend her upon her departure, mother, for I shall not be able to."
"What do you mean?" Natasha cried.
Loki disappeared. With an exclamation, Frigga grasped her husband's arm.
"Ah," Natasha said. "Now I see. Very clever."
The god of mischief was gone. In his place sat a small black cat with green eyes, watching her with an intent expression.
Slowly she bent down and extended one hand. The cat came forward, sniffed her fingers, and rubbed his head against her arm. Immediately he began to purr loudly and jumped onto her lap.
"All righty then!" Natasha rose, clutching the Loki-cat in her arms. "I'm not having a runic seizure or anything. In fact, nothing happened to my arm, so - yeah. Looks like we have a winner."
"There is no pain when you touch the animal?" Odin asked.
"No," Natasha responded shortly. The animal indeed! "Mama Frigga, I will need some sort of carrier satchel so I can take Loki here with me when I ride out on Sleipnir. Can you hook me up with something like that?"
A triumphant light of battle filled the queen's eyes. "Indeed I can," she said. "As Loki said, this is an adventure – I think the bards will be telling this tale for years to come when it is done. Excelsior, Natasha! May your path be righteous and clear, and may your aim be swift and true."
"Preach," Natasha muttered. The cat's purrs grew louder, and he stretched up to lick her chin.
