NOTE - As always, thanks to my faithful reviewers the phoenixandthedragon4ever, Esha Napoleon, Moriarty-assbutt, and thank you to those who favourited and followed my stories. Ditto to those who sent me the PM's - it means so much. Infinite Lokis for everyone!
19. Science and Magic
Sif and Natasha rode through the mountains, negotiating narrow turrets and heavy outcroppings of rock on horseback. After many hours they began to descend at last, and the trees grew thicker. Natasha felt herself relax; with more cover she could feel out hiding spots should they need one. She shouted this to Sif, who merely humphed in response. "I would dearly love a good battle," the warrior replied. "All this riding without thumping an opponent on his fat head is making me soft!"
As the trees merged overhead and formed a dark wood around them, Natasha checked her map. "Is this the Enchanted Forest?"
"Aye. Never have I visited before, although I dearly longed to as a child." Sif looked about. "'Tis said the trees are filled with whispers at night and even the stones harbour spirits."
Loki mewed as if to agree, and Natasha felt a bubble of laughter. "Are those the nymphs and dryads you told me about before?"
He licked her finger. Sif turned in her saddle with astonishment. "Did you just talk to the beast?"
"Well, yes. It's really Loki, you know."
"All the more reason not to talk to him. Have you heard the story of how he stole my golden hair?"
"I did," Natasha replied, "but I must add your dark hair is really pretty. By which I mean it's far more warlike and violent than a golden mane."
Sif grinned and prodded her with the hilt of her sword in a friendly fashion. They fell silent, and Natasha concentrated on the road. Her arm hurt with each jostle in the saddle, and she recoursed to the old ways drilled into her in the Red Room. Separate yourself from the pain. Don't allow it to rule you. You are above it all. Feel nothing.
Her recent weeks spent at Loki's side had burned most of those defenses. He had peeled them back one by one to find her heart and let her live again, to be emotional. To kiss, make love, vow her devotion - all of that was new. Unthinkably dangerous things, and there was a time she would have run away rather than allow anyone into her head. Now she had allowed him entrance and there was no turning back, but in the meantime she had to reach that untouchable place again so she could complete the journey and not be defeated by the searing, constant pain in her wrist.
The two horses rounded a path, and Sif held up one hand. "I sense hoofbeats," she announced. "One horse, ridden by an amateur. Female, I should think. Frightened. Nothing for us to fear, but we had best be on highest guard in case anyone follows her."
Natasha nodded and gripped her sword. The tightening of her muscles made her hiss with pain; the cat twitched his nose and perked both ears.
Sif got down from her horse in one easy movement. "Just in case I have to cut her off at the knees," she explained.
Far away, a bird called, followed by another. Something slunk by in the underbrush far away; Natasha caught the sound and turned in the saddle. "Here they come," Sif breathed.
A horse galloped crabwise into the clearing. Jane was just barely clinging on, her face filled with panic. She let out a shrill scream as the stallion reared; Sif darted forward and caught the reins to calm the beast. "One of the Asgard mounts!" she shouted. "What the devil are you doing on its back? You could be pulverized under its hooves or, worse, let it throw a shoe or break a foreleg." She frowned and added, "How did you arrive in front of us, in any case? You were still in Asgard, ere I left."
Jane fell out of the saddle, covered her face with both hands, and shuddered. "I studied the maps Thor gave me and found a system of passages within time itself to take me quickly into your path. Natasha – I must speak with you."
"What is it, Jane?" Cautiously Natasha dismounted, bringing the Loki cat with her.
"It's Odin," Jane said in a low voice. "He has forbidden our marriage – mine and Thor's. I'm not enough of a warrior according to him – don't have the ability to fight for Asgard - and so I cannot be a bride of the crown prince."
"And so you want us to teach you, is that it? Is that why you have stolen one of the finest mounts in the stable, galloped off, and interrupted our quest?" Sif's magnificent eyes flashed. "If the All-Father has stated his word, you must simply accept it as fate. Believe me, I of all the Aesir know the truth of that."
Jane wheeled on the lady knight. "You know what? I don't believe I was talking to you. And by the way, Natasha, I was fine on Midgard! I had my job, I'd broken things off with Thor, but Nooo, he was the one who had to come along and insist we go to Asgard, start a life together here, and now it's all gone to shit because I don't know how to wave a tin sword around."
"Stop your sniveling and find some dignity!" Sif was outraged. "Return to your realm and learn to conduct yourself before contemplating a return to Asgard. By the gods, I am tired of women who think on nothing more than men and babies."
Jane's jaw dropped, and she bounded forward to stab one finger into Sif's breastplate. "I am a scientist! I hold fifty-seven patents and two lifetime professorships. The last thing I want to do is talk about men and babies. However, I have fallen in love with Thor now, and God knows I will fight for him!" Her glance flicked Sif up and down. "Do you speak to me like this because you had your chance with him and it failed miserably?"
Sif drew in her breath and smacked Jane across the face. Jane recoiled and drove her fist into Sif's jaw. The next instant the two of them were rolling on the ground, tearing each other's hair and screaming, "Bitch! Slut! Whore! Strumpet!" amongst other insults.
"Stop it!" Natasha yelled. The two paid no attention and continued shouting. She took a step towards them, and as she did the world seemed to tilt underneath her. Look at that, she thought strangely, the sky is turning upside-down. Her arm burned, and the weight of it pressed her down until she found herself looking at the moss on the ground.
Then, blackness.
Slit of light, smell of dust. Natasha awoke looking into a single, staring eye. The scene was familiar, and as she sat with a groan she backed away from the broken doll on the concrete ground. Somehow, she was back in the fractal maze, the one she had escaped with twenty prisoners during the Clerkenwell Syndicate case.
Natasha propped her head between her knees. Even though her arm hurt as though it had been on fire and someone had put out the flames with a shovel, at least she knew who she was. All she had to do was find her way to the outer room.
She got up and cursed. The maze had changed – now the room she was in had no windows. There was no door. She was inside a concrete cube, and there was no escape.
After ejaculating a long string of curse words, Natasha felt in her clothes for a weapon. She still wore Asgardian gear, and beyond the several small daggers on her thighs she had no gun or explosive disks.
Natasha looked around the cube. Except for the doll and a few Sears old catalogues dated from the seventies advertising polyester pantsuits, it was empty. She cursed again and began to search for a weak spot she could dig through with her largest knife.
There was a chipped spot on the wall that seemed the most likely. She stabbed her dagger into the concrete, but her arm was too sore to lever any strength into it. Whistling with pain, Natasha rolled up her sleeve; the skin was so swollen the sleeve was too tight to pull up. With her knife she split the seam, biting her lip to stop from screaming as she did so.
The runic marks were swollen. Cautiously she touched one mark. At that she couldn't help crying out; the pain was so intense she nearly fainted.
"Natasha!" The shout came from far away, but she recognized the voice.
"Loki?" With her good arm she pounded the wall. "Loki! I'm here! Can you find me?"
"I am coming…" He sounded very far away.
"Loki!" she screamed again, but the concrete walls seemed to swallow her voice.
A long time passed. Natasha lay on the ground to favour her wrist. She felt hot, but at the same time she shook with chills. Fireworks danced in her head, and she started to babble to herself: "Hypodermics. Engineered. Changed. Morphed. Barely human. Assassin. Perfect killing machine. Rose. Rose. Where are you? Rose!" Her old apartment in Stark Tower flashed in front of her eyes with its bare walls and empty shelves. The box of old photographs spilled across the carpet, and she dreamed she searched frantically through the images.
Natasha in geisha dress. Agent Romanoff ready for a masquerade. Dancing a tango. In a business suit, with heels and white shirt. In a slim gown.
"Natasha," she moaned. "Natasha. Who is she?"
"I know exactly who you are - you are my heart's own love," Loki said. His voice was on the other side of the wall. "Move back, darling - I am coming in to bring you back to me."
She heard a loud thump, and a network of cracks appeared on the wall. Loki's hand, complete with his armour and vambraces, shot through and cleared a space; eventually he leaned into the room panting and with a triumphant smile on his face.
It faded when he saw her. Loki clawed his way inside and carefully picked her up in his arms, cradling her head next to his shoulder. "Do not worry, Natasha," he vowed. "I will take care of you. Now, close your eyes – we shall return to the Enchanted Forest. Are you prepared?"
She nodded and her eyelids closed.
Natasha felt a swirling around her, as though she floated in a whirlpool. When it stopped, she heard a voice by her ear.
"I think she hears me," Jane said. "Have you got those bandages ready?"
"Yes. I found some of the leaves you described and have the water boiling over the fire." Sif's voice, sounding unusually gentle.
Natasha raised her head. "Hey," she said. "What's going on?"
"Hey! Good to have you back." Jane knelt next to her. "You fainted."
"Your arm has swollen to twice its size. I am worried about you, Natasha." Sif held out a cup filled with a steaming liquid and brought it to her lips. "Have a sip – I can promise it will taste quite dreadful, but it will do you some good."
"We'll need more than tea." Jane and Sif exchanged a significant look. "I may need to try and operate to lance some of the infection under the skin."
Natasha let her head fall back. "Oh, crap. Shit. Fuck. Okay, do what you've got to do."
Sif held up a bottle filled with a yellow, evil-looking liquid. "You can have a few snorts of this if you like to numb some of the pain. Be careful – it is quite strong."
"Oh, I can handle it. This mother's milk won't get me drunk, but I'll definitely have a shot." She tipped the flask to her lips and swallowed; it made lighter fluid seem like lemonade.
"It's true," Jane added brightly. "I've seen her in action – she's a martini machine." As the warrior tipped the bottle to her own lips she added, "And don't drink all of that, Sif – I'm going to need a shot myself after this surgery."
"Fair enough." Sif corked the bottle and put it on the ground by her sword.
"Where is Loki?" Natasha looked around.
"He is right here," a masculine voice said behind her. "Give me your other hand, darling, and squeeze as tightly as you like." She felt Loki's cool fingers slide into her fist, his lips on her hair.
Jane held up a knife, glowing red from the fire. "Okay, this arm isn't going operate on itself. Are you ready?"
"Do it." Natasha squeezed her eyes shut.
When the knife first sliced into her skin, she arched back and let loose a stream of profanity in Russian followed by a long series of curses worthy of a pirate.
"I'm so sorry!" Jane cried. "Just hang on. I'm going to cut under …"
"No need for the play-by-play," Natasha gasped.
"I have to agree." Loki covered her free hand with kisses. "Stay with me, my love, my wife. You have the soul of a hero and the courage of a champion."
"Do you need another knife, Lady Jane?" Sif asked.
"No, thanks – I think I'm good…" Jane's voice trailed away, and the burning in Natasha's wrist stopped. "Okay, I think that should do it. More water, if you could, Sif. Awesome, thanks."
Natasha gripped the front of Loki's shirt with her good fist. "Get me vodka now," she hissed.
He smiled, one dimple popping into his cheek, and handed her a chilled bottle. "Here 'tis."
She lifted the alcohol to her mouth and chugged for a few seconds. When she finished taking care of Natasha's arm, Jane held out her hand. "I could use a drink of that."
"I would not mind a taste myself." Sif peered curiously at the clear liquid.
"I would not mind either, but I might lose my control." Carefully, Loki leaned over and kissed Natasha's forehead. "Time for me to get back into my furry skin, my love." He disappeared, and the cat padded to her and curled up in the crook of her neck.
Natasha raised her sore wrist. The swelling seemed to have gone down, and the arm was covered with a neat bandage. "Not bad," Sif remarked to Jane.
"Thanks! You were pretty good yourself."
"So, you two are all friendly now. What's up with that?" Natasha asked. "A second ago you were rolling on the ground tearing each other's hair out. And – a catfight? Really?"
Jane reached for the vodka, took another long swig, and handed it back to Sif. "You know, once you operate together on a friend with a dagger and some unknown leaves in hot water as the only available anaesthetic, any argument you might have between you kind of takes a backseat."
"Not to mention you have a decent bunch of fives, Lady Jane," Sif added. "Your fist has won my respect this night."
