I don't own Loki or the Avengers, but YOU guys seem to like what I do with them. I have gotten no less than 18 reviews since last Wednesday, which makes me feel so awesome. I was stuck on a difficult scene and you guys gave me the inspiration I needed to finish it!
The theme song for this chapter is "Love is Blindness" by U2. It has a nice dreamy quality to it that fits much of this chapter.
I have gotten mixed reviews from my betas on this chapter. It seems like if you're not familiar with Hans Christian Anderson's "The Snow Queen" it's a little confusing, so you might want to look it up first.
Chapter 30: Dreams of the Past
They were driven directly to a jet, which Clint would fly back to New York. They all strapped in, and by the time they were in the air, Natasha had fallen fast asleep.
"How does she do that?" Loki wondered aloud, chafing at the uncomfortable harness.
Steve chuckled. "It's an old military habit. You learn to sleep whenever you can, wherever you can. I knew a field medic once, said he knew he was the real deal when he fell asleep on a pile of gravel and found it really comfy." He yawned. "I might do the same, to be honest."
Loki nodded, but inwardly groaned. That left Clint for company on the long ride back, since there was no way he could fall asleep like Steve and Natasha. After half an hour of silence, he sighed heavily, unbuckled his harness, and made his way up into the cockpit. Clint glanced at him warily as he sat in the copilot's seat.
"They're asleep," he explained, and they fell into a silence which was not entirely uncomfortable.
"I heard what you said," Clint said after a while.
"Hm?" Loki had been lost in thought.
"To Natasha. About SHIELD not valuing her," he explained.
Loki looked at him sidelong, wondering just how much of the conversation he had overheard.
"You're right, you know," Clint added. "The problem is, she doesn't see it that way. I never could convince her that she could be so much more than just someone's tool." He sighed.
Loki thought about that for a while. "Maybe she doesn't want to be something more," he mused.
Clint frowned at him, but listened.
"If you're just a tool, then you're not entirely responsible for your actions. Sure, you were the one to deliver the blow, but whoever gave the order is responsible, too."
"Natasha is more than willing to take responsibility for her actions-" Clint started, but Loki flapped a hand at him.
"No, you miss my meaning. Would you say that Natasha enjoys her work?"
He laughed. "Definitely."
Loki nodded. "And where she works, what she is, that is a good thing. But if she were to step outside of that, stop being someone's tool and act on her own motivations, then what? How would you define a woman who seduces and kills, not for her country or peace or even money, but just because she enjoys it?"
Clint swallowed. "The Black Widow."
He chuckled. "Precisely. As long as someone else spins the web, she is free to spring the trap without facing any consequences."
There was another long pause as Clint digested this information. They were now over the Atlantic Ocean, the dark mass of it spreading out beneath them as far as the eye could see. A few scattered clouds drifted past them, like shapeless ghosts. It was a moonless night, and Loki studied the stars, wondering which was Asgard.
"You know why I think you're such a creepy fuck?" Clint said suddenly, interrupting Loki's reverie.
He smiled. "Why?"
Clint scowled. "Because you get people. You understand people like I never will. And you use it, not to help them, like Dr. Bryardie, but just for shits and giggles."
Loki gave him an amused look. "I think that you understand people better than you give yourself credit for," he complimented him. With this, he stood and made his way to the back. He chose a seat on the side opposite Natasha, where he could watch her sleep.
When Natasha made it back to her apartment, she was too exhausted to do anything more than fall into bed. She had slept on the flight, but it wasn't what you would call deep, restful sleep. She had dreamed that she wandered alone in a vast, winter wasteland, but could not shake the feeling that she was being watched. She felt vulnerable, a black and red target against that expanse of white. So when she finally made it back to her own bed, she hoped to get a few hours of quality rest before she had to get up and face the strange tangle of her life.
She did not get what she wanted. She dreamed again that she was in the white expanse of snow, but this time she was not alone. She was riding a caribou, who ran swiftly over the land, the wind biting the skin of her face. She was small, bundled up in a warm fur coat, and she kept her eyes trained on the horizon, waiting to see something, she knew not what. Slowly, a thin spike became visible far away, widening until she could see that it was a tall, thin castle made of ice. As soon as she recognized it, she was suddenly at the door.
Natasha remembered. She looked down to find the pink ballet slippers on her feet. She knew this story, had danced it long ago, in what seemed like another life. The Snow Queen. She pirouetted and leaped through the frozen halls of the palace, searching, searching. At last she came to a mighty hall, lined with pillars shaped like icicles. In the middle sat a small child, shivering and miserable as he played with a top made of ice.
"Kai!" she called, and the boy turned. She frowned. The boy in the dance was supposed to have brown hair and eyes. This one had black hair and green eyes.
"Gerda," he said, surprised, just as he should.
She rushed to the boy, hugging him, and felt that his skin was freezing.
"I'm so cold, Gerda," he said sadly.
She pulled away, but she could not remember what she was supposed to say. All of the lines had fled from her mind. Anna would be so angry! She glanced down at her hands, and they were covered with blood. So were her clothes. Nor were they the warm fur coat she had worn a moment before, but a magnificent dress, made of layer after layer of white dagged fabric, so thin and transparent that every gust of wind made it shift, looking like drifts of falling snow. She was not Gerda. She was the Snow Queen, and she was covered in blood.
She looked back to the little boy, and saw that the blood was his, that it was gushing from him in hot torrents. "Here," she said softly, pressing her hands to the wound in his chest. "You must make it stop. Use the cold. If you make it cold enough you won't feel anything at all."
Dazed, Kai placed his hands over the wound, too. They began to turn blue, all his skin did, the color spreading up his arms and onto his face. As it reached his eyes, they turned red, the angry red-orange of a burning flame, and she heard a piercing scream...
Natasha sat up in bed, breathing hard. In contrast to her dream, the room around her was sunlit and cheery. She cursed softly and flopped back on her bed. She lay there a moment, staring at the ceiling and thinking of the dream.
The Snow Queen had been her first leading role in ballet, when she played the role of Gerda. At the time, it had seemed her greatest achievement. By the time she had played the Snow Queen herself, she had already earned a better reputation as an assassin than as a dancer. It was clear to her on waking that the little boy, Kai, was Loki, although what the dream meant she hadn't the faintest idea.
She sighed and got up, going to the bathroom to find the supplies to dye her hair. As much as she would like to spite Loki by keeping it blonde, she didn't like it either. It made her remember too much.
She watched as the red dye swirled around the drain of the shower. Too many times it had not been dye, and this too made her remember.
Your ledger is dripping, it's gushing red... You pretend to be separate, to have your own code, something that makes up for the horrors. But they are part of you. And they will never go away.
She wondered, now, how much Loki had been speaking from experience. As she dried her hair, she made a decision. She needed to know more about Loki. She couldn't ask him, or even her, because he would assume that her curiosity indicated a different kind of interest. Which left just one person.
At the end of the week, she got her chance.
"Thor, could I speak to you a moment?"
Thor stopped in his tracks, turning to see who had called him. "Ah, Lady Romanov," he smiled at her. She stood in the doorway of an office room.
"Just Natasha is fine," she smiled kindly.
Thor shrugged a little. "Loki mentioned that you do not like to have your given name used..."
She looked down and back up, trying to suppress a smile. "That's with Loki," she said by way of explanation.
"Ah," Thor nodded. "What is it that you wish to speak of?"
"Actually, I wanted to ask you some questions about Loki. Are you busy?" she asked.
He shook his head, smiling. "Jane and Darcy do not arrive for another three hours, and I have been searching for something to make them pass more quickly."
"Have a seat," she gestured into her office. She rarely used it, and there were almost no personal effects to be found, just a few framed photographs on the wall, landscapes and florals, which Clint had hung himself 'so the place didn't look so damn spartan,' as he put it.
He sat in one of the modern leather chairs, and she took the other. "What is it you wish to know about my... er, sibling?" he asked.
"It's about his past," she clarified. "He mentioned some things, and didn't seem to want to elaborate."
Thor looked thoughtful. "Perhaps you should ask her? She's often more willing to discuss such things with me."
Natasha shook her head. "It's just... I don't want him to know I asked. He'll think it means I'm interested in him."
He raised his eyebrows. "Are you not?" he teased.
She laughed. "Not in that way, no."
He gave her a look that suggested he did not quite believe her, but did not press the issue. "Was there a specific part of his past you wanted to know about? The tale in its entirety would take many days to tell."
Natasha nodded. "He said that he had been married, twice. That his first wife had betrayed him, and the second one petitioned for divorce."
Thor looked melancholy. "Aye. Both tales are sad in the telling, I'm afraid."
She frowned. "Some of the things he said were a little concerning. I think I would feel better working with him if I knew the whole story." There was more to it than that, but she wouldn't say.
He sighed, and shook his head. "I am not sure that he would like me telling you this, but I know that you are not the kind to gossip idly. I trust in your discretion." He sat back in his chair and stared up at the ceiling, remembering.
"When he first married, it was in secret. Angerboda was a witch of some talent, but unknown by the court of Asgard. I believe they were much in love, or that at least that he was. I cannot guess as to her, I met her only twice and she seemed a formidable woman to say the least. When my father learned of it, he sent out his spies to see if they could learn her origins. By this time she had already given Loki a daughter, Hela, and he was perhaps the happiest I had ever seen him. But the child had begun to show signs of dangerous power, and Odin was concerned. It occurs to me now that, knowing Loki's true parentage, he worried what his offspring might be capable of.
"It was discovered that Angerboda was in fact Jotunn, and had disguised herself with magic. She had also hidden from him two other offspring, Fenrir, who she had turned into a wolf, and Jormungandr, who had changed to a snake. The sons she had kept for her own uses, giving him only their daughter. Odin shared this information with Loki, mostly out of concern as to what had been done with his sons.
"But Loki was outraged, and horrified to find that she was not Aesir, as he thought himself to be. He said..." here he trailed off, shaking his head. "He said many things to her that I imagine he now regrets, concerning her race. She was cast out, and his daughter Hela was sent to rule Hel, where the court of Asgard would be safe from her. He made no attempt to find his sons."
Natasha stared at the wall, thinking. If Loki had cast out his love, Angerboda, because she was a vile Frost Giant... only to later find that he, too, was of Jotunheim... "That... that's awful."
Thor nodded. "It is the worst of ironies."
She shook her head. "What about Sigyn? He made it sound as if... there were some problems..."
He shifted uneasily in his seat, and this made her worry more.
"Tell me the truth, Thor. Did he abuse her?"
Thor frowned. "Abuse?"
"Did he..." she found it suddenly hard to ask the question. "Did he beat her?"
He looked surprised, but only a little. "He hit her, yes. Once. But it was enough for her to plead release to Odin."
Natasha closed her eyes, her worst fears confirmed.
"In all fairness, I am not certain I would not have done the same in his place," he commiserated.
Her eyes shot open, scowling at him. "Don't give me that bullshit that she had it coming?" Really, he couldn't be that sexist.
"No. But she provoked him a-purpose. She had done so many times before, in the hopes of freeing herself from him. She had told lies, spreading wide the rumor that he beat her every night, although those closest to him knew it was not true, and she had no marks to prove it. He has a habit of..." Here Thor trailed off, regarding her dubiously.
"Thor, I'm not a maiden damsel," she said with an eyebrow lifted. "You're not going to shock me."
He smiled a little. "Loki has a taste for the sharper pleasures. More than a few young maids have been scared off by it, but there were always others who were drawn to it, like a moth to a flame. There was never a one who came begging her dowry from Odin."
Natasha tilted her head. "Begging her dowry?"
"If a man of Asgard takes a woman against her will, he is subject to severe punishment. If he is a commoner, he is beaten. Noblemen must make a public apology, much to their shame, and both high- and low-born are required to pay gold for the girl's dowry. We protect the virtue of our sisters and daughters, it does not happen often," he said proudly.
Natasha looked less than impressed. It all sounded rather barbaric to her. "What did Sigyn do?" she asked instead.
He sighed. "Many things, in total. But what the final straw was, I cannot say. He admitted to me later that he had been tired and drunk at the time. 'She begged me a boon,' he told me, 'and I could no longer deny it of her.' He regretted it much, although he was happy to be free of her."
She frowned. "Why didn't he ask for a divorce then? If such a thing is allowed."
He nodded. "It would have been as easy as asking for him. She had many lovers, and kept none of them a secret. But he would not dishonor her in such a way, even as she treated him. I also think he kept her a little out of spite."
She scoffed. "That sounds like him. And there were no others after that?"
Thor laughed, loud and long. "Odin's beard, no. There were many women, who came and went like the changing of the seasons, and often as quickly. But nothing serious. There have been some who have sought to woo him, but none have gained more than a broken heart for it, I'm afraid."
She nodded, remembering the nickname he had earned-Loki the Heartless.
Thor studied her as she thought. "Are you certain your interest in him lies not in this area? He won't come courting, but I suspect it would please him well to take you to bed," he teased.
She laughed. "What? A lowly mortal such as me?" she joked.
He looked somewhat less amused, and turned a little nostalgic. "I think mayhap my brother loves this realm almost as well as I. There were times when he would leave Asgard, and wander through Midgard, for years at a time, even. He told me once that it was only here that he truly felt like a god. Who can say how many mortal women fell for the charm of his silver tongue?"
Natasha was surprised. "Thank you, Thor."
He smiled. "Then you shall be more comfortable working in his company?" he asked.
She laughed. "Yes and no. Loki can be rather... persistent in his attentions."
He sighed and passed a hand over his face. "Strange to tell, but I know what you mean." He stood, "Well, I wish you the best of luck whatever you choose," he said, and took his leave.
She frowned. What was that supposed to mean?
A/N: A lot of the reviews came from a very thoughtful new guest who has left me a note every couple chapters—I want to say thank you to them.
I hope this chapter answered any questions about Loki's history. Most of it is head canon, but there are roots in the mythology and the comic universe. I figure Loki has probably had a number of human lovers in his time, since in the comics he has at least one human daughter, Tessa Black, and he makes it sound like it's not an uncommon thing. Being a measly human woman myself, I admit I find the idea appealing lol.
I'm still unsure about how much of Natasha's history to reveal—I'm not as familiar with her, except from the movie. I've been doing some research though, and there's a LOT of stuff to work with… I'll have to decide which elements I want to use… *rubs hands together*
Coming up on Wednesday, the return of Jane and Darcy, as well as some fun with Loki and Natasha in Chapter 31: Good Graces
