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20. Different Faces
Although Natasha wanted to get back on the road, Jane refused to allow it. "Absolutely not!" the scientist cried. "You just had surgery – well, if you can call digging into someone's arm with a knife and home-brewed alcohol 'surgery'."
Sif agreed. "As much as I would like to be back in the saddle, 'twould be best if you sleep for some hours before we attempt the quest again. Besides," she added, "Jane sorely needs a good lesson in how to ride a steed from Asgard."
"Stellar idea. That would be really helpful." Jane jumped up. "'Kay, girlfriend – grab a nap, and I'll do my best to learn how to gallop on that big camel over there." She was born away by Sif, and Natasha lay down.
As always, Loki came and curled up in the curve of her stomach. "Thanks for rescuing me," Natasha whispered. "How many more times do you think we'll pull each other out of danger?" In answer, Loki licked her chin and her nose before starting to purr loudly.
Carefully, Natasha put her good arm around him. The wrist with the runes felt better under the bandages, but she knew she wouldn't be able to fight a duel with it anytime soon. Perhaps sleep would be good, even though the sun was just starting to set in the crimson-streaked sky.
Her eyelids fluttered. "Hello, pet," someone said.
It was the Lady – the one who had visited her the night she had first found out about Anzhela's existence. The exquisite woman sat on a chair in the grass, dressed in a black tailored dress with a severe collar and a neat green ribbon tied around the high neck. "I thought it would be best if I visited you in this form to remove some of the temptation."
Natasha sat opposite her in another seat filled with soft pillows and a warm blanket. "Why worry about temptation?" she asked. "Do you think my arm was affected by us getting busy in my last dream?"
"What is 'getting busy'?" Lady Loki tilted her head to one side.
"I think you already know the answer to that." Natasha shot her a look. "And by the way, you're not exactly removing temptation, especially when you're wearing a dress that fits like a glove."
"Thank you very much, darling." Lady recrossed her legs.
"Actually, I'm really glad to see you. It's been a while – I …" She realized she had missed Lady Loki. Their time together was so short: one single uproarious, drunken night of laughter and breathless flirtation.
Lady Loki sucked in her breath and her eyes narrowed. "Ooh. Perhaps this was a mistake. I thought we could speak together, woman to woman, and I could soothe your arm with my fingertips, like so, and that would be the end of it. But you are very naughty, love, and you give me such ideas when I see you." She got up, knelt by Natasha's seat and licked her palm. Her black lipstick left a kiss mark there. "Shall I visit you like this when we are married, pretty?"
Natasha's heart stuttered. She suddenly remembered she was betrothed a man who had so many sides to his personae he could satisfy any forbidden craving, any hidden urge. "This really was a bad idea," she whispered.
Lady threw back her head with laughter. "It really was. Ah, what fun we are going to have together, my love. And think of the delicious mischief we can get up to!"
A long lock of black hair escaped to lap over Natasha's knee. She picked it up to wind around her finger, and Lady Loki captured one of her red curls in turn. "Do you love me? As the Lady, I mean?" Natasha asked. It seemed so strange and yet completely natural at the same time.
The Lady smiled, displaying the same dimples Loki had. "You are part of me forever. Look." She twisted the two strands together, red and black in a shining spiral. "Tell me, do you miss the other mask?"
"Loki?" Natasha asked. "Of course I do…"
"No. I meant the other fellow."
"Ahhhh." The Jotunn. "Absolutely. He was our first time together, you know. I'll never forget that – even though I was freaked out at the end of it. It wasn't from being intimate with a Frost Giant, by the way - that was beautiful. It was just coming to terms with you and me. You were my enemy for so long, and then you were a prisoner, and the whole concept was just so weird – that I could be starting a relationship with you of all people. But," she added, "in the end I just couldn't resist, obviously."
"And would you choose to be with that side of my nature again? To 'get busy', if I may borrow your phrase?" Lady Loki's eyes narrowed, as though she were wary of Natasha's response.
"Of course. I hope so, at least – it was very satisfying." Natasha reached out and threaded her fingers through Lady's, brought them up to her lips. "Perhaps as a wedding gift you might give me the ability to truly lie with the Jotunn - to touch you in that form and not be burned with frost – is there some magic you could work to allow it?"
"Hmmm!" The Lady considered. "Now, that is interesting. Would you truly like it? It might be dangerous…"
"Yes, it might. However, you and I were always ones for tickling the tail of the dragon," Natasha added.
A light kindled in Lady Loki's eyes, and she beckoned with one long finger. Natasha leaned over her, heard the woman whisper, "I truly cannot wait to be married to you." Their kiss was deeply passionate, the Lady's tongue moving smoothly over Natasha's. When the Russian opened her eyes at last, it was Loki himself kneeling in front of her, his eyes still closed from the embrace.
"You." Natasha cupped Loki's face, considered the miracle that was him. He was so many things at once, so dangerous and so untamed, and he was all hers.
Loki opened his eyes and smiled regretfully. "That was a stolen moment. I should not have done it."
"Wait!" Natasha brought her face closer. "Before you rush off, I want to know something. When you switch forms to another of your masks – do you think differently? Do you change here as well - inside?" She tapped his forehead.
With a surprised, wary expression he withdrew a little. "I suppose I do," he replied slowly. "No one ever asked me that before – I never even asked myself." Loki gritted his teeth and his breath hitched. Brushing his long, black hair out of the way, he bent over her to whisper in her ear, "However, one thing never changes. Lady, Jotunn, or Loki – you alone hold my heart."
He disappeared, leaving only the black lipstick on her hand. Natasha woke fully and sat up, brushing sleep from her eyes. The cat uncurled with a 'mrowr!' sound, and she tickled his belly, skritched the fur between his ears, lavished kisses on his neck.
Jane and Sif returned through the trees, laughing about something Jane's horse had done. When they saw Natasha, Jane waved and shouted something about a fire and a warm meal.
Fire? Natasha thought. Mine's already burning.
As soon as the sun turned the black to a grey in the forest, Natasha was up, packing her things. Jane shielded her eyes, groaned, and jumped up in a panic. "Are you certain you should move? Let me see…"
She reached for Natasha's arm. "I'm fine," the Russian growled. Unfulfilled desire was a snake in her belly, making her desperate to be on her way.
Sif was already by the horses, testing the saddles and polishing her bridle with one sleeve. "We ride!" she shouted. "Time to go and find the troll-bitch – by Volstagg's vast trembling bottom, my sword is ready for a taste of her foul blood!"
"Huh," Jane muttered. "'Volstagg's vast trembling bottom'. Now there's a mental image I could do without before breakfast."
"Speaking of breakfast…" Natasha picked up the three napkins that instantly appeared in the grass, each filled with a fragrant loaf. "Thanks, Loki."
Jane looked at the huge horse with trepidation, grasped her bread, and clamboured up into the saddle. There she swayed until she got her feet properly into the stirrups, and she blew out a long breath, white in the frosty air. "I can do this," she said as though to herself.
"Absolutely!" Natasha winked at her and followed Sif to the dark path. "Will we arrive today?" she called.
"By evensong at the latest." The warrior twisted in her saddle to shout back, "Rise and fall, Jane, in your stirrups as I showed you."
"The rising thing I got - I'm not so sure about the falling," Jane muttered.
The trees grew very dense around them. Jane made the horses stop twice, once to pee and again to change Natasha's dressing. The runes were still an angry red, but the incision from the impromptu surgery seemed to be healing cleanly. As the scientist wrapped a strip of the napkin left over from breakfast around the affected wrist, she nodded. "I think it looks better, but those marks are so weird. I just get the oddest feeling from them."
"You do?" Natasha climbed onto Sleipnir's back. "Loki said that a magician could sense the runes, understand what each meant."
"I'm no magician, but I do get images when I touch the marks," Jane mused. "This first one, Uruz, is a huge beast with horns so enraged the dust whirls up around it. There is violence, but I see the possibility of an unexpected change for the better. The second is Thurisaz. It is a thorn, or a giant. It represent evil and danger now, but it holds the key to a cleansing fire. And the last is Hagalaz, different from the first two. It represents Hail as well as disease. I cannot read it as well as the first two…"
"Wow." Natasha sat back and let Jane wrap the bandage over the marks. "That was pretty in-depth."
"If in-depth means complete, I agree," Sif said. "Are you certain you are not a magician?"
"I can't even do a simple card trick!" Jane tied off the square with a neat knot and grinned. "There. I'm getting better at this."
As Natasha resettled Loki in his carrier, she added, "Still, I think you've got some kind of untapped ability."
"Maybe." Jane sounded unconvinced.
Just as Sif called for a third halt, the cat sat up in the carrier. His tail swollen to thrice its size, he hissed and spat. Before Natasha could wonder at it, he disappeared and was replaced by Loki, seated between her legs on Sleipnir's neck.
"This is it, darling. We are at the Ironwood Heath and," he added with a contemptuous look at the surroundings, "a more blasted, forsaken place would be difficult to imagine."
Natasha shifted back in the saddle to give him room. "You know, you could give me a warning when you do that." Her eyes widened as a huge structure came into view in front of them – as tall as a castle, it was shaped like a tall mound and looked like someone had heaped dirt and stones there over the centuries. Two or three holes shaped like rudimentary windows could be seen, and there was a rough version of the door in its side.
"This is our destination, you say?" Sif asked Loki. He nodded, and she jumped off her horse. "Allow me to rattle the knocker of the troll."
She was about to pound on the rough door when it opened. An old woman swept a cloud of dust and old leaves out of the dwelling straight into Sif's face. "Eh, I am that sorry. Din't see naught, after t'cleanup of t'settle." She peered closer through wrinkled slits of eyes at the riders and Sif, who was prepared to launch into a violent storm of enraged shouts. "Cans't help thee, travelers? Bain't an inn, but can give thee small beer and barley loaf if t'hast a mind to it."
"Enough, old one," Sif demanded. "Your troll sister has accursed my friend, and we are here to see an end to it. Is Angrboda within? For long and sharp is the conversation I would have with her." She fingered the edge of her sword meaningfully.
Loki jumped down as well and held up his hand to assist Natasha. "Here is the maiden," he said, "and we mean to stay until the black spell is lifted."
As he spoke, the old woman focused on Natasha. "Aye, cans't figure a dark shape around thee," she muttered. "Angrboda no longer dwells here, nor has she been seen nigh on a century or more, but mighten this auld one can at least change t'curse."
Jane dismounted and chimed in eagerly. "Yes, that's what I saw! A dark shape. Those marks are nearly impossible to shift, aren't they? But they can be reversed to their opposing meanings."
"Exactly," Loki agreed. "Show her your arm, Natasha, but listen well, prune, one trick and I shall hack your head from your body."
"There's no need for all that." Natasha rolled up her sleeve and tugged at the bandage. The runes stood out in red, although the skin had begun to puff up again around them. "I'm certain we can find another way to get her to spill her guts without carving them from her belly."
The woman nodded when she saw the marks. "Aye. T'evil spreads, although t'was recent let out to swell up again like a puff adder under t'skin. 'Twill come back, look on and right soon, howsomever."
"Can you remove them?" Natasha glanced at Loki, whose brows were twitched down over his nose in concentration and simmering anger.
The woman seized the hand and grinned, showing three stumps of teeth among red, glistening gums. "Remove? No. Reverse – perhaps. What price?" she added in a hiss.
Loki held up a warning hand. "Gold, or jewels, or both – a basketful of riches if you wish."
"Fair. 'Tis accepted." She held out a hand, and with a shudder Loki touched two fingers to her palm. "Now," she continued, "hold out t'limb once more, and we shall see what we shall see…"
She waved one spotted, wrinkled hand over the runes. Natasha felt Loki's arm around her waist as the marks shimmered, turned green, and flipped over on her arm. Instantly a bolt of relief shot through her skin as the pain in her bones melted away.
"It's better!" she cried out. "Wow."
"But that was easy." Sif's white forehead wrinkled with concern.
"Too easy." Loki looked closely at the runes. "What have you done?" With a sudden motion, he struck out with one arm and seized the woman by her throat. "What have you done?" he roared.
Her features melted. They were replaced by a face Natasha remembered – the solemn, angular features of Angrboda, last seen at the betrothal dinner. She was still in the bloodied, white dress from the dinner, and her tangled hair hung long down her back, filled with twigs and mud. "The marks are reversed to Elder Futhark as you wished, Former Husband of Mine, and I will indeed have my golden payment," Angrboda declared. "However, the staves stay on the limb – and each gives the impostor wife one day of life."
Maddened, Loki threw himself forward, ready to strangle her. "No!" Natasha shouted. "Loki, back off. Just – just tell us. What do you mean by that, Angrboda? I have three days? What do I have to do?"
The woman shook Loki off and drew herself up. "You have three days, and three trials. Three days and no more. Each trial removes one stave. If they are not all gone when the last moment ticks by there is no more time for you. At that instant, impostor wife – you will have no more time and your life is forfeit to me."
Natasha raised her hand and looked at the marks. "Just to be clear - these have to be gone in three days or I die?" In answer, Angrboda nodded.
All of them except for the troll from Ironwood jumped when Loki threw back his head and emitted a long howl of anguish. In a moment, there came answering howls from the woods surrounding them.
"Wolves," Sif said. "It wanted only that."
