NOTE - Thanks again to my reviewers, Esha Napoleon and thephoenixandthedragon4ever. You rock my world!
18. What Happened Among the Thorn Trees
The map in Natasha's hands showed a straight route to the Ironwood Forest through the Asgard Mountains, where she had first traveled with Jane and Thor near Alfheim and the Enchanted Forest. At the wood's boundaries lay Ironwood, a small blasted heath according to the last recorded sighting some hundred years prior.
Sleipnir moved easily, although the road quickly grew steep and rocky once they were far enough from the Palace. After a few hours Natasha sighted a crossroads not marked on the map where the road split into three parts. "Now what?" she grumbled, mainly to herself.
Loki sat up in his carrier bag and mewed. Sleipnir rolled one eye towards the cat, emitted the horse version of a Harrumph, and chose the path to the left. Natasha nodded, impressed. "All righty then, you two. Looks like I just need to hang on to the reins and watch out for turbaned ruffians." The cat looked up at her, and absentmindedly she scratched his head; his ears spread and he started to knead the bag with his claws.
There were no ruffians nor anyone else nearby. Apart from the few dwellings she saw situated in bleak farms on the side of the crags they passed through, the way was deserted. A cold wind blew through the pass, echoing with a lonely whistle. After a few more hours, even the occasional barns disappeared and Natasha felt as though she, Loki, and Sleipnir were the only ones alive.
The light began to dim, and there was a constant rumble of hunger in her belly. Probably Sleipnir needed to graze as well, she considered. Natasha shielded her eyes, looking for a green meadow and a source of water.
"Know a good resting place, Loki?" she asked. The cat mewed again, and Sleipnir picked up his pace. After a few minutes the horse reached a spot within a tangle of thorn trees, so it would be sheltered for the night. Natasha dismounted, led the steed to a small stream, and watched as he drank. She knelt upstream and dipped her hand in to taste the water; it was clear and deliciously cold.
When she turned around, wiping her mouth, there was a small bedroll ready as well as a fire and a steaming meal on a low table. "Was that your handiwork?" She scratched Loki's ears and chest, and he collapsed on his side to wave his front paws at her.
Natasha ate hungrily, picking out a few scraps to give the cat with her fingers. He ate daintily from her hand, and once they were finished the meal disappeared. "I can't tell you how awesome that talent is!" she laughed. "I could have really used you in Budapest."
Her back ached with weariness. She hadn't slept much the night before, and the day's ride knotted her muscles with travel aches. The red marks on her arm were particularly tender, and she bathed her skin in the cold water.
Groaning, she slid into the bedroll and stretched out. At once Loki crawled in with her to curl up in her belly. She thought of pitching him out, but the wind was still cold and the cat warmed her insides. Instead, she ran her hand over his fur, and his purrs vibrated under the blankets. Natasha watched the magnificent stars through the clouds and trees for a few moments, but soon they wheeled and spiraled in front of her eyes and she fell asleep in an instant.
"Allow me to look at your arm, darling." Loki sat beside her bedroll in his Aesir form, one hand extended towards her. He was dressed in riding gear, with a loose white cotton shirt and braces holding up slim suede breeches.
Natasha sat up, astonished. Sleipnir lay on his side, emitting the horse version of snores. As she watched, the steed kicked one back leg as he imagined running through pastures and hillsides.
"Is it really you?" she asked.
"I am your dreams, of course. I don't want to hurt you afresh." Carefully he took her wrist in his long fingers and stared at the runes intently. "Each person – or in this case, troll – has his or her own signature when creating a runic pattern. I just wanted to study what is on your arm."
"Do you see anything?" Natasha asked.
He shook his head. "It is curious. Although it is many centuries since I have seen Angrboda's handiwork, this does not look like something she would have created. But mayhap the years have dimmed my memory."
"No." Natasha shook her head. "I don't believe that – you remember everything."
Loki's eyes closed, and he brought the palm of her marked hand up to his lips; for several long minutes neither of them moved. Natasha studied the long shadows of his lashes shadowed on his cheeks like dark fans. At length he released her. "By the roots of Yggdrasil, Natasha, I should be bearing this curse. That this was visited upon your flesh is a torment to me – I cannot tell you how much. And when you offered to lop off your own arm without a second's delay last night, it tore me to shreds inside to see your courage."
"I don't know about that. You should have seen me trying to saddle Sleipnir this morning – I was a hot mess."
His surprised laugh rang out. "But I was there!"
"Oh, yes, of course you were." She grinned. "You know, I miss hearing your laugh."
His gaze softened. "Natasha, do not smile at me like that. I cannot answer for what I might do to you."
She let out a long breath. "It is a dream, so what is the worst that could happen?"
"I do not know, but I also do not wish to find out." Carefully he traced the three runes again. "Your arm does not look as it should. The skin is tender just here, and I am afraid there is something under the skin that will grow stronger if we cannot rid you of the runes very soon. We must do so without delay."
Her breath sucked in as he touched her; the mere brush of his fingers on the marks felt like she had been stabbed with a rusty razor. "I'll be okay," she insisted. "I just want to look at you for a moment."
Loki smiled, spread his long arms, and his face dimpled with mirth. "Here I am - behold." As she stared into his eyes, his expression grew solemn - hungry. Carefully he slid closer to her and put his arm around her waist. "Does it hurt when I touch you?"
"No, only when you brush your fingers over the runes on my skin. This feels like heaven."
He groaned and pulled her into his arms to kiss and nuzzle her neck. "I miss your sweet body beside mine more than I could ever say. My little assassin, my own heart's love, may I beg an embrace from those red lips?"
"Oh, hush." Natasha smoothed Loki's long hair back from his face and kissed him. Her stomach flipped and she saw stars as he slipped his tongue into her mouth – carefully at first and then more boldly. Instantly every nerve in her body awoke, clamoring for more.
God, he was good at it. She had never met a better kisser – 'passionate necking' she had heard it described as in an old film. Loki could have taught the couples in a drive-in a thing or two. He just seemed to love her mouth, exploring it with lips, tongue, and even his teeth.
He pulled away from her with a quick motion, eyes darting into the dark trees around them. "Did you hear that?" he whispered.
"I didn't hear anything. Just the wind."
"I thought I heard the breaking of a twig." Loki waited, on high alert, still clasping her close to his chest. At last he relaxed and smiled down into her eyes. "It must have been a fox, looking for a last tidbit ere he sleeps in his den."
Slowly they lay back together on the bedroll. "You must tell me the instant you feel anything different – any kind of pain," he whispered. She nodded, reclaimed his mouth, slid the braces off his shoulder and began to unbutton his shirt. Loki whimpered slightly in her mouth and pulled off her chemise; she felt the touch of wind, air, and his hands touching each inch of her skin.
Her heart beat wildly as he gasped and held her back for a moment to stare into her face. "Are you sure you want to…?" he asked.
She laughed into his face. "Was that really a question?"
"I suppose not... we are addicted to each other..." Loki drew her up in his arms again, pressing her to his flat, muscled chest. She knew he could feel her heart beating wildly against his, knew he felt her breath get faster as she lost control.
With hands shaking from desire they pulled off the rest of their clothes, panting into each other's open mouths. Natasha felt slick with desire, drunk with lust. Her entire being pounded as though she were already at the brink of climax. And as Loki spread her legs and mounted her, sheathed his length into her, she pulsed instantly around him. Her body had been waiting for his touch.
"Natasha!" Loki's eyes glowed in the dark, as though the mountain air caused him to take a more savage form. "You shall make me go mad, I am losing my mind for you, you spend as soon as I plunge inside you. Do you know what that does to me, darling?"
"I couldn't help it. I wanted you so badly, it's like my body needs yours all the time, and when you tickle me inside like that I lose all control."
He buried his face in her neck and bit the skin. "Now," he whispered, "let us see if you can do it again while I still regain some sanity." As he spoke, Loki slowed his tempo, pulled out to rub his erection on her soft, swollen button, growling and biting her lips as he did it.
She felt the wave build up again. As she locked her arms around his neck and propped one leg on his shoulder, and as he slipped back inside and teased every inch of her hidden pleasure garden, as she raised her hips to meet his, as their tongues met and licked each other, she felt as though she were riding a wild thing - a satyr or centaur caught in her heart and happy to be there in the net of her love.
With a strangled shout at the brink of her mouth Loki thrust wildly into her, and she screamed in answer as her core shuddered and his seed spurted in hot, passionate jets. It was beyond imagining. At last he sighed and relaxed between her thighs, kissing her again and again.
They fell asleep with him inside her, locked in the tender trap she had set only for him.
In the morning, Natasha sat up and looked around. The cat was still curled up next to her, and she scratched him under one ear. "Very nice," she whispered. The cat looked up with a smug expression, and she couldn't help gathering him into her arms to kiss his head.
"I suppose we should move on. The dream sex thing is good and all, but I'm ready for the real – ouch!" Natasha screamed and dropped Loki. Her arm was swollen and red, and the runes stood out on her skin as though they were burning wires inserted under the surface.
The cat came close, sniffed, and meowed loudly. He licked her arm, and although she jerked it away at once, the cool tongue gave some relief. "Do that again," Natasha begged. Loki lapped at the skin, and after a few minutes, the burning calmed so she could get up and dress herself. "Of course it would be my sword arm," she complained.
There was a small breakfast prepared for her, but she decided to eat on horseback since Sleipnir was stamping, impatient to be off. Natasha hurriedly tied up her pack, splashed some water on her face and arm from the stream, and prepared to mount.
As she placed one foot in the stirrup, a wild figure appeared from between the trees, making Natasha jump and drop her pack. Sif, her face dark as a thunderhead cloud, ran up and snatched Loki by the fur scruff. "Is this him?" she shouted. Not waiting for an answer, she drew her sword and held it to the cat's neck. "Man or woman? How dare you ask me such a thing, Silvertongue? What does it matter? Even if I were a hermaphrodite, I would still slit thy fleabag belly for you, and so I will do anon!"
Three things happened at once. Loki struggled and managed to sink his cat fangs into the pad of flesh at the base of Sif's thumb.
Sif dropped the cat with a curse.
And Natasha launched forward, kicked Sif under her chin with one foot while sweeping the warrior's legs out from under her with the other.
They both went down, grappling and shouting. Natasha got hold of Sif's hair and pounded the woman's face into the dirt with a good hold on the woman's arm to keep her there.
"Get off me!" Sif warned.
"I could kill you one of nineteen ways right now," Natasha promised. When Sif made an angry noise in her throat, she jerked the warrior's head back and smashed her kneecap into Sif's chin.
"By the powers of Hel, warrior, I give you my word I shall stand!" Sif shouted.
Natasha held for a moment and slowly let go of the woman's hair. She climbed to her feet and wiped a trickle of blood from her mouth, nodding to Sif to show her truce.
"Twas not ill-done," Sif admitted as she rose to stand next to Natasha. "Idunn's tits, you brought me down with the sweetest move ere I have been privileged to see! I would dearly love to learn such warfare, surely Midgardian of origin."
"It's the least I could do," Natasha admitted. "After all you taught me my sword play. Perhaps we could even merge the two, to create a new form of fighting."
"Ah!" Sif clapped her on the shoulder. "Now you speak words close to my heart." The smile faded as her face darkened. "But where is that foul vermin? I will not put up with the accusations he hurled at me. That Heimdall and I should…!"
"Oh, God," Natasha groaned. She felt as though she had spent a large part of the past few days apologizing for that ill-fated banquet. "We could go through my whole 'Loki is very sorry and it really isn't his fault if you think about it' speech, but I think you'd be bored after the first minute. I know I'm certainly boring myself."
Sif snorted, flaring her delicate nostrils. "I cannot deny this is true, but it does not take back that trickster's words. As soon as I see the animal, I will dispatch it with one slash of my sword…"
"And if you do, I shall dispatch you with one thrust of mine." Natasha stared into Sif's eyes, refusing to back down.
"Twould seem we were at an impasse."
"Sif," Natasha said in a silken voice, "how would you like to forget about murdering my betrothed and come on an adventure with me instead? I can promise you glory and something unknown thus far." The warrior looked away, but Natasha could tell she was tempted. "I could really use your sword," she added. "Look at my arm – this is what the troll bitch did to me, and now I can't hold a weapon as strongly as I'd like. But," she added in a regretful tone, "if you decide to return to the Palace instead, of course I'll understand. After all, anything could lie in wait for us as we draw closer to Ironwood, so if you prefer to sleep safely in your bed in your own room tonight under a roof and not below the stars…"
"Enough!" Sif shouted. "I take your point. I will ride with you, Natasha, and I promise not to slay Silvertongue for the sake of the friendship between us as warriors. But if Loki ever says such a thing about me again, I will not answer for the consequences."
Natasha nodded. "Fair enough." She looked around, made a "Psss psss psss!" sound, and Loki bounded out of the trees with a very dead rodent in his mouth. "Oh, no," she added. "You are so not bringing that thing onto the saddle with me."
