NOTE - Many, many thanks and Loki kisses to my tireless, wonderful reviewers. Moriarty-assbutt, Esha Napoleon, and thephoenixandthedragon4ever - I can't tell you how special you are.
17. Flight
Natasha returned to the small suite of rooms she shared with Loki before their betrothal dinner, not sure of what to bring with her on her journey. She felt the material of her Black Widow outfit longingly, but at last she decided it would be silly to wear and far too bulky to pack. Instead she found a pair of slim riding pants, a shirt, and a pair of high boots made with soft kid leather. As she packed a bag with some other items – the toothbrush Loki gave her and extra underwear – the cat wound around her legs, stopping to rear up now and then to rub its head on her knees.
After she had nearly tripped for the third time, Natasha grew exasperated. "Get out from under my feet, Loki!" The cat instantly ran to a drawer in the table by their bed under the framed photo of Natasha from Midgard and pawed at the knob to open it. He turned to Natasha, mewed, and pawed again. "Yeah, yeah, I get it," she said, and opened the drawer.
The cat ducked its head inside and patted a flat box. Pulling it out, Natasha found it contained a huge emerald on an ornate golden chain. "Are you kidding me?" she asked. "I take it this is the diadem you had made for me, right? Trust me, we don't need to drag it along with us. The point is to travel light."
Loki hissed, ran to the door, ran back, gazed up at Natasha, and returned to the door. She picked up the diadem, realizing the cat wanted her to follow him. Feeling a bit like a kid following a collie on an old TV show she trailed after him. What's that? You want me to bring a priceless diadem to some unknown place in the palace? Lead the way, boy!
His tail held up like a candlestick, Loki padded through the long corridors to areas Natasha had never seen before. At last the cat stopped in front of a door and pawed at it.
"I'm on it." Natasha knocked. The door was opened by a pert maid in a uniform that fit like a glove.
"It is late," the maid snipped. "Her Ladyship is dressing for bed. Come back tomorrow."
She was just about to close the door in their faces, when a melodic voice came from one of the chambers within. "Who is it, Birghitta? See what they want."
Natasha recognized the voice at once as that of Freya, the goddess of beauty and love. Everything clicked, and she realized what Loki was trying to do. She held out the diadem in its box to the maid and said, "This is for the Goddess Freya. Could you please give it to her? And if you could just add how very sorry I am for what she had to listen to tonight, that would be just great."
"You!" Freya appeared in a diaphanous pink robe, her curls in charming disarray. "You dare disturb me after what your betrothed said to me this night, Mortal?"
"I know," Natasha replied, wedging herself closer to the door, "It was a really bad scene. This gift is for you with the compliments of Prince Loki to send his apologies - and mine as well."
The goddess took the box, opened it, and exclaimed. "Well! This is quite beautiful, but I have jewels by the case. Why should I let a little trinket melt my heart?" Freya closed the box with a snap and tossed it to her maid. Drawing herself up, she looked down her perfect nose at Natasha. "The terrible insults I received tonight I will not soon forget. Despite being the goddess of love, I highly value my honour and my family, and I am mightily tired of being accused as a whore."
The cat meowed, and Natasha nodded in understanding. "Well said, and your words do you credit just as Loki's words brought us shame. No one feels it more keenly than he does now. In his defense, however, he just had his hard-won happiness – his hope, his life, and our betrothal as well - stolen from him in a single instant. Perhaps there is no other who could understand that as well as you."
Freya seemed to soften slightly, but her tone was still sharp. "And why is he not here himself?"
"It is the enchantment. As you heard, the marks forbid him to touch me." Natasha held out her wrist, to show the runes to Freya; they had grown darker, redder, and the skin around them was puffier as though the infection under them had spread and was growing stronger. "We seek to break this dark magic from Angrboda, and if he stands next to me it is difficult for – for us both. Loki and I are very much in love," she added. It was the first time in her life she had ever admitted such a thing, but in front of Freya it almost seemed natural.
The cat jumped into her arms and buried its head in her neck, trembling with purrs. Freya raised one eyebrow. "Twould seem Puss is quite attached to your person."
"Yes, it's just what you think," Natasha said with a smile, caressing Loki's fur. "It is the only way we can be together."
The goddess of love nodded. "I see. Very well, I will accept the jewel." She hesitated, as though she would say more, but at last she merely tilted her head in dismissal and closed the door.
There was no chance in Hel she would return to the luxurious suite of rooms allotted to her. Natasha came back to the tiny prison now so beloved as home and trailed into the bedroom. She meant to sleep for a few hours and take off before dawn, to be well on her way before the Palace began to stir.
Loki's closet was filled with clothes he had given her, but she had always slept nude in his embrace at night. "Mischief," she murmured, "is there any chance you could conjure me up some pj's? I think being naked with you now would seem pretty weird."
The cat meowed, and a neatly folded square of cotton pajamas appeared on the pillow. Natasha pulled the corners of her mouth down and nodded in an appraising way. "Hm. That's handy."
Wearily she undressed, brushed her teeth, and got into the large bed. At once the cat jumped onto her pillow and curled up next to her, peeking at her with one green eye from under his tail.
"Oh, no," Natasha declared. "I never slept with an animal in my bed, and I'm not about to start now." Unceremoniously she shoved the cat onto the floor. "Go find a chair or a pillow or something."
She closed her eyes. Her wrist hurt, and the events of the day rushed back in her mind – the anger in Loki's eyes, the column of smoke, the gasps of the guests, her punch to his throat. His shouts – I am foul, ugly, unclean, a disease. Do not look at me. Go away, Natasha, leave my rooms. Do you think evil men desire to be thus? I fear myself, and hate myself. You will never understand.
She felt her lungs expand with sadness. Just despair was about to overtake her, the cat padded back, curled up beside her belly, and started to purr again. The sound was soothing, and she felt her very bones relax. Cautiously she slid one finger around Loki's ear, and the cat's purrs increased as he polished his head under her chin.
"Okaaaaay," she groaned, her head flopping back on the pillow. "You can sleep on the bed. But just this once."
Sleipnir reared and neighed when Natasha approached the horse; however, when the stallion saw the cat he quieted and allowed her to saddle him and climb on his back. She carried a simple pack with a few items, as well as the silver miniature Loki had sent to her on Midgard. Her sword hung by her side, and under her tunic she carried several daggers.
The cat rode in a carrier on the front of the saddle between her knees. Frigga had designed it beautifully so Loki was balanced evenly and able to sit up without impeding her horsemanship.
He did just that, looking out and sniffing the dawn air with interest. The cat's paws hung over the edge of the carrier like little fur loops as Natasha clicked her tongue and gave Sleipnir the signal to move out of the stables.
As the horse's hooves echoed on the long avenue leading out of Asgard, Natasha turned and looked at the Palace one last time. So much had happened to her there in such a short time, and she wondered when she would see it again.
