I apologize for the delay and for the bad puns. I think I'm starting to get a bit loopy, here at the end.

Theme song is "Mirrors" by Justin Timberlake.


Chapter 81: True Colors

"Better?" Loki asked as he came down the magnificent staircase.

"Much," Natasha pushed away from her seat at the grand table, which still held an eye-boggling array of breakfast foods. Loki waved a hand and they all disappeared. "Is everything ready?" she asked.

He nodded tersely, and held out his hand.

She took it, suppressing a smile.

As they walked up the staircase together, his eyebrows twitched. "What?" he asked, vaguely smiling himself.

"Nothing," she demurred. When he gave her a look that said clearly he would accept no such answer, she laughed. "It's just, you seem nervous."

Loki pursed his lips. "It's a very complicated spell," he replied.

She smiled at the hint of petulance in his voice. "Of course," she conceded. They had reached the alcove, and she turned to face him.

A modicum of amusement slipped into his expression as he looked down at her. He brushed the backs of his fingers across her cheek. "Are you sure?"

Natasha pushed aside a twinge of annoyance. "Yes, Loki, I'm sure," she said, looking straight into his eyes to show her sincerity.

He leaned forward and kissed her, slowly and tenderly. When he pulled away, she found herself dressed in the magic cloak and a long green silk dress. It had a daring V neckline that exposed the entirety of her ample cleavage. It reminded her, from what she could see, of the dress in the painting they had found in the Guggenheim.

For his part, he was dressed in a loose shirt that hung open to his waist, where it was caught up by a tight pair of dark green pants, which in turn were poured into knee-high black boots.

Natasha giggled, and Loki sighed. "What now?"

"We look... like something off a romance novel cover," she laughed harder.

He sighed, now definitely petulant. "The spell requires that the site of the rune must be exposed, so it was this or we both go topless," he argued. Then, in a much quieter voice, he murmured "And I like those books."

She composed herself. "All right. They're very nice outfits, I'm sorry Loki."

His smile returned, and it was her favorite: the boyish, hopeful one. "Then what are we waiting for?" He glanced upwards. "The Roof."

Natasha wondered if she would ever grow used to the sensation of leaving the Aerie's protected interior and plunging into the driving, breath-stealing Antarctic wind. Before them was a set of stairs which curved around the outside of the tower. The fur cloak kept her above freezing, but it was still quite chilly, and her newly exposed skin tingled with it.

Outside the alcove was a staircase which followed the curve of the outside of the tower. There was no railing on either side.

Loki seemed to sense her hesitation, and wrapped an arm around her. "Don't worry," he murmured close to her ear. "I won't let you fall."

She smiled a little. "Who said I was afraid?" She took his hand in hers, and began her way up the stairs. They went around the tower for a half-turn, leading to the flat, circular roof. Up here, the wind was much stronger. When she stumbled a little, Loki apologized and with a word, an invisible barrier sprung up, blocking the wind.

"Is that ok?" Natasha asked, grateful nonetheless. "You said it would take up most of your reserves, before."

"Yes, but that was when I was human," he declaimed, leading her to the center of the platform.

Natasha laughed, and this time she sounded nervous. "So, um. How does this work?" she asked quietly.

"Usually the spell is performed by a third party," Loki explained, "But we can easily do it ourselves. Here," he moved her gently so that she faced him, opposite a small figure drawn on the floor. "We stand like this, with our arms like so," he took her right hand and pressed it in the center of his chest, and then nestled his own palm between her breasts. She could feel his chest rise and fall, and the faint heartbeat beneath. His hand was warm against her skin, and his touch relaxed her.

He backed up so their arms were straight, and then put his free hand over her outstretched wrist. She mirrored the action, and looked up into his eyes. "Now what?"

Loki smiled nervously. "There is one part where you must say 'Aye,' but I'll do the rest. All that is required of you is that you... let it happen. It may feel a little alarming, but you must try not to resist the spell's effects."

She nodded. "Whenever you're ready, then."

He took a deep breath, and let it out in a sigh. Then he spoke in a language she did not understand, but the words had a rhythm of sounds that made her think of poetry. As he spoke, the space between them seemed to glow slightly, expanding to engulf them in a cocoon of light. Natasha felt the magic tingle on the surface of her skin, much more pleasantly than the cold wind.

When she heard Loki say his own name, she glanced up, surprised to hear it followed by the matronym Freyasson. He shrugged a little, as if to tell her it was his way of compromising between his various parentages - Freya, at least, he would claim as a mother. He then paused a moment, and said "Aye," with a smile. His chest below her fingertips began to glow brightly.

Repeating the last part of the spell, Loki substituted her name, "Natalia Alianovna Romanova," and then paused, lifting his eyebrows to indicate it was her turn to accept.

She licked her lips. "Aye," she agreed. Her chest felt warm, but she was unsure if it was because her chest was now glowing, too, or because of the rare, true smile that broke across Loki's face.

He spoke the last words of the spell, and Natasha began to feel a rush of energy into her chest, which started out cool but soon felt burning hot. More alarmingly, though, was the pulling feeling in her right hand, a sensation like something pulling from inside her and passing into Loki. Her breath began to quicken, as she struggled to remain calm.

"Shhh," Loki murmured, "It's only a few moments now, and it will be over." His voice seemed to come from all round her, and inside of her. She closed her eyes and tried to let go, to feel the river of energy flowing through her, out her arm into Loki, and then back again, to relish the sensation rather than fear it.

And then, suddenly, it was over. The light dissipated, and Natasha felt herself drop a few inches back to the floor, unaware they had been floating. Loki took his hand away from her chest to steady her, and she glanced down to see his rune, like a sharp-angled B, glowing in her skin. It faded slowly, leaving behind a scar of burned skin.

"That should heal shortly," he reassured.

Peeling her own hand away from his chest, Natasha saw a different symbol fade from Loki's skin. It was simpler, a single vertical line with a short, diagonal hash across it. "What's that?"

Loki looked at his own chest and smiled, tracing the already-healing lines of the rune with his finger. "That is your rune, Natasha. It's Naudiz, which means need. I wondered what it would be. It's very fitting."

With curious fingers, she traced it as well. "Why?" she asked, fascinated.

"In spells, it's used to invite destiny, to accomplish the impossible. And because I do need you, more than anything else in this universe," he told her.

She looked up into his eyes, and saw the love written clearly there. It still scared her a little, the way he felt for her, the way she felt in return. "Can I see now?" she asked.

He laughed out loud. "Impatient, are we?"

"Curious," she corrected. "Terribly curious."

Sighing heavily, he looked at the open vista around them. "Not here," he said quietly.

Natasha gave him an understanding smile, and took his hand. "Let's go inside, then," she suggested softly.

He nodded, although he still looked a little unsure. She led him back down the stairs and into the alcove, which took them to the bedroom. As soon as they entered, he waved a hand to make the windows opaque.

She laughed softly. "Loki, I can't see you if there's no light."

A little muscle in his jaw twitched, but he turned his hand over and one of the windows became translucent, still fogged with frost but lit up by the eternal sunlight. It gave just enough light that she could tell the green of the deep-pile rug beneath them from the black of the marble floor it rested on. Not much, she thought, but it would have to do.

Turning back to Loki, Natasha slid her hands up his chest and then wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him softly. She let it go on, unhurried and sensual. He was tense, and she waited for him to relax, the bunched-up muscles in his neck and shoulders smoothing out. "It's ok, Loki," she murmured against his lips. "I'm not going anywhere. Even if you look horribly ugly, I promise I will still love you."

He let out a long breath, almost a resigned sigh. "We'll see." He didn't sound very confident. He took a few steps back from her, and pulled his shirt off, tossing it onto the bed. Closing his eyes, he seemed to be concentrating hard.

His fingertips changed first, she saw, darkening into an alien cobalt blue. The color bled up his arms, spreading from the veins across his skin. Patterns of lighter skin emerged, strange designs that followed the lines of his body and accented them. At last the color reached his face, and then disappeared into his hair. When it was done, he opened his eyes, and they were a strange red-orange, without whites.

Years of training allowed Natasha to fully suppress the gasp that rose up in her throat. His appearance didn't frighten her so much as how closely resembled her dream of Kai. She pushed aside the strange notion, and focused on the here and now. He looked strange yes, but somehow... "Beautiful," she whispered.

Loki's eyebrows pressed together and upwards. "What?" he asked, hopeful and incredulous all at once.

Natasha took a step towards him, then another, closing the gap between them. "I said you're beautiful, Loki." She reached out a hand to touch him, but he jerked away.

"Don't!" he stepped back. "I'm cold, I'll freeze you." When he spoke, she could see that his teeth were small and pointed.

Natasha smoothed a hand along the fur of her cloak. "No, you won't," she reminded him. She proceeded slowly, though, giving him more than enough time to back away, but he did not. When her fingertips brushed his skin, he flinched, but only a little. She spread out her hand, pressing it against his chest, right over her rune. His skin was cool to the touch, but no more so than a human who had just come in from the cold. She highly doubted he was any colder without the magic cloak.

"See? I'm fine." She began to trail her hand over his skin, tracing the intricate markings. "Do these mean something?" she asked.

He frowned and looked down at his own skin, as if he had never really seen it before. "I don't know. I know Laufey and the others, they had marks, but I thought they were scars." His voice was a little different too, there was a strange, deep undertone to it.

She shook her head. "They don't look like scars. They're too beautiful."

"You keep saying that," he scowled, irritated.

She smiled up at him. "That's because it's true."

He could not hold her gaze, so he looked away. "Forgive me if I cannot take your word for it."

It took a long moment for Loki's words to sink in, and Natasha's lips parted slowly. "You've never seen yourself like this have you?"

Loki still did not look at her, and rubbed at the skin of his arms as if he could wipe away the blue. "I believe this is easily the longest I have worn this aspect."

"But you just changed a minute ago," she said, incredulous.

He gave her a cutting look which said precisely, his red eyes boring into hers.

"Oh Loki..." she sighed.

"Do not pity me!" he shouted, becoming more uncomfortable in his skin by the moment.

Natasha laughed. "Is that what you think?" she looked around the room, but the full length mirror that he had conjured for her the day before was conspicuously absent. "Do we have to do this again?" she asked.

"Do wha..." he began to ask, and then froze, before shaking his head. "No. No. Natasha, you cannot fix this with some mirrors and sex!" he spat.

She looked him up and down with new interest and smiled lasciviously. "Now that's not a half bad idea," she joked.

"This isn't funny, Natasha," he said in a deadly voice, and she swore the temperature in the room dropped a full ten degrees.

"No, it's not," she agreed quietly. "Summon a mirror, Loki."

"No."

"Right now. Or I will go downstairs, hop on Ulfir's back, and ride over to the South Pole station. See what they think of that," she threatened.

He stared at her for a long moment, until she finally gave up and stormed towards the alcove. She stood within, and opened her mouth, but he spoke first.

"Wait." It was very quiet, but she had been expecting it, and so she turned slowly. "Come back. Please." There was so much pain in those flame-orange eyes, she almost felt guilty.

Sighing, she crossed the floor again, slowly. When she stood at arm's reach, she stopped and crossed her arms. "A mirror, Loki. Now."

He shut his eyes, and waved a hand. The wall behind him was suddenly one long mirror, like the dance studio she remembered from long ago. It was much more than she had expected of him, but did him little good with his eyes screwed shut.

Uncrossing her arms, Natasha closed the distance between them. He seemed a little taller than usual, and she stood a little on tiptoe, burying her hands in his hair and kissing him. He gasped in surprise, but then froze, not reciprocating in the slightest.

"Loki," she murmured against his lips, pouring the whole of her seductive talent into her voice, "kiss me. Touch me. Please..."

He groaned, and then grabbed her arms roughly. For a moment she thought he would push her away, but instead he crushed his mouth against hers, kissing her like a drowning man gasps for air. She wrapped herself around him, and his hands devoured her greedily. At last she broke away, both of them short of breath. She took a step back, and he glanced at some movement behind her.

Somehow, without him knowing, she had managed to turn them around, so that he now faced the mirrored wall. The movement he had spotted was her reflection, and from there his eyes instinctively flitted to the figure beside her. He froze, and the strange creature in the mirror did as well.

Natasha moved slowly out of the way, coming to stand a little behind Loki. "See?" she asked softly, tracing the lines of his markings across his chest and down his arm. "Beautiful."

The longer he stared, the more he realized he looked nothing like the other Jotunn he had seen. There was very little of the uncultured brutishness he had come to associate with frost giants. The way he held himself, even panicked as he was, was the bearing of a prince. His hair, which remained, did much to soften his features. Without the jade armor he had seen the others wear, he looked less like an icy weapon and more like a man, albeit a blue, patterned one.

"Not what you expected?" she guessed.

"No," he breathed, reaching up to trace the lines on his face. The stories in Asgard said they were scars, carved into the Jotunn's skin at their coming-of-age. Obviously that was untrue. He wondered if he'd had them when Odin had found him as an infant. "I..." Loki swallowed. "I don't know what I was expecting..." he lied.

Natasha saw through it. She didn't know what Laufey looked like, but she did know Loki had killed him. It was not too difficult to imagine that he would have taken everything horrible and foreign he had seen in his birth father and extrapolate it out to some hideous monster. Suddenly she remembered something he had said to her...

I want to take this gorgeous illusion that you show to the world and make it match your insides... ugly and broken and covered in blood.

When had he said that? It wasn't the helicarrier... she paled when she remembered... the nightmare, of course. Loki chose this moment to stop studying his own appearance and notice her reaction.

"What?" he asked, instantly concerned. "Should I change back?"

She shook her head, and slid her arms around his waist, nuzzling her face against the cool skin of his chest. It made her think of a freshly-turned pillow on a hot summer night. "Loki, I am so sorry."

"For what?" his voice shook. He suddenly clutched her tightly to him.

"No, I'm not leaving," she laughed, although tears pricked her eyes. "I just..." she let out a long breath. "I'm so sorry for everything that's happened to you."

Loki leaned his cheek against the top of her head. He wanted to tell her something, to say that it wasn't her fault, but the words wouldn't come. When he said nothing, she pulled away to look into his eyes. "Natasha," he managed to say at last.

She kissed him, and she threw all of herself into it. Not her wiles or artifice, but her, damaged and broken, but how else could she understand? He returned the kiss whole-heartedly, and without thinking guided them the few steps towards their bed. She followed eagerly, reaching up to unclasp her cloak.

He caught her hands, stopping her. "No, leave it on. Please. I don't want to risk hurting you."

She sighed, but smiled. "Alright." Carefully, she slipped the shoulders of her dress off underneath the cloak, letting it fall to the floor.

Loki sat on the bed slowly, admiring the sight of her nearly-naked form wrapped in the cream fur. "On second thought, leave it on because it's sexy," he joked.

It took effort for her to not grin like an idiot. An idea popped into her head, and she knelt gracefully at his feet, before helping him take off his boots.

"You know me entirely too well woman, and you humor me too much," he breathed as she slid her hands up his thighs.

"I know what you want," she agreed, undoing the laces of his pants. "And I want to give it to you..." She felt his muscles tighten as she pulled the fabric away, revealing that he was already quite aroused. She smiled. In size and shape, it was pretty much the same. But the markings that graced the rest of his body were present here, too, and she trailed her fingers over them lightly.

Loki's indrawn breath hissed between his teeth, and he fell back onto his elbows as she took a firmer hold. When he opened his eyes again, he saw that she was grinning, not just in triumph, but as if something was funny. "What?" he asked, feeling self-conscious again.

Natasha licked her lips. "Do you remember, on the island, when you stole my popsicle?" Leaning down, she swiped her tongue up the length of him in a clear imitation.

His groan melted into breathless laughter. "You are incorrigible," he told her.

She looked up to meet his gaze, and slowly, deliberately wrapped her lips around him. He cursed softly in a variety of languages as she began to move, and while she didn't understand all of it, she was pretty sure she caught the words "brazen" and "delectable," in there somewhere. Very soon he wasn't able to verbalize at all, as she took her time in stoking his pleasure.

Lost in the sensation of Natasha's hot, wet mouth, Loki almost forgot himself. When he glanced at their reflection, he was almost surprised to see his skin was still azure. It irked him a little that her ploy was going exactly as planned, but only a little. It was difficult to stay angry with her while she was being so... attentive.

Eventually he collapsed into the bed completely. Natasha gave a few more flicks of her tongue for good measure, and then pulled back, standing and helping him get rid of his pants. He moved up the bed, and she crawled after him, looking every inch the predator in her fur cloak. She kissed her way up his body, arching her back so that the her exquisitely soft breasts brushed against his sensitive skin. Straddling his hips, she smoothed her hands over the lines of his chest, the movement accentuating her cleavage.

He shook his head, marveling at what he had called her finest weapon. How much more impressive it was, when she chose to use it for her own purposes.

She tilted her head to one side, and traced one of the lines on his face. "What are you thinking? You're harder to read like this, I'm not used to it yet."

"I am thinking," he said, daring to reach out and touch her, running his hands up her sides, thumbs brushing the underside of her breasts, "that you are truly magnificent."

"Like a work of art?" she appreciated the compliment.

"No, like an artist."

She leaned forward and kissed his mouth before whispering, "Does that make you my blue period?"

Loki's chuckle rumbled with the strange echo, but it was genuine. She kissed him again, and moaned as his cool hands slid down to cup her backside. Suddenly there was nothing between them, as he had vanished her panties.

"Naughty," she whispered in his ear, and then drew his earlobe between her teeth.

"Of course," he agreed, and took hold of her hips, encouraging her with his hands to move in the way he loved so much. She happily complied, drawing a moan from his lips. Eventually, though, it was not enough. He wanted her, but not like this. From where she straddled him, she could see him from almost the waist up. It made him feel uncomfortably exposed.

He turned, his hands encouraging her to lay on her back, the cloak spread out beneath her. When he moved to hover over her, she wrapped her legs around his waist eagerly, but he held back a moment. Pulling away from her kisses, he brushed a curl away from her face and tried to find the words he wanted to say.

"What is it, Loki?" she sounded concerned. "Don't you want me?"

"Like nothing else," he breathed. "I just..."

"You're still worried you'll hurt me?"

He nodded.

Natasha lifted an eyebrow. "That's rather ironic, coming from you," she pointed out. When he didn't seem relieved, she snatched up one of his hands and pressed it to her chest, where the lines of his rune had already faded to a pale pink. "I trust you Loki. More than I've trusted anyone, ever." She let her words hang in the air, let their meaning and sincerity soak into Loki and fill up all his doubt.

The feel of her, as he delved into her center, was unlike anything Loki had imagined. She was so warm, and soft, and the sound that escaped her lips was like music. Her hips lifted to draw him in deeper, her hands, encouraging, at his back. He buried his face in the crook of her shoulder, and the smell of her hair flooded his senses.

They moved slowly, as if in a dream, careful to savor each moment and sensation. Natasha remembered when they had made love under the stars, and felt that same quiet reverence in Loki's touch, his gentle kisses. He built her up slowly, until she was drowning in pleasure, lost to the current, pulled under by the strange emotion of love.

For his part, he was able finally to forget, caught up in spurring her on. When he glimpsed his hand, dark blue against her pale cream skin, it no longer startled him. Instead, he watched fascinated as goose bumps rose on her skin where his fingers passed.

In that last, crystalline moment of hitched breath and clenched fingers, there was a sense of connection between them, as if for one moment there was truly nothing between them, not even their bodies. It lasted a small eternity, ages trapped in that single moment. It left them breathless, and Loki pressed his forehead against Natasha's, while she buried her fingers in his hair.

When it was over, they lay together, limbs entwined, neither speaking. What could be said? The silence between them was full of meaning, which words would only have tainted or shattered.

Natasha shivered and reached for a nearby blanket, and only then did Loki bring back the glamourie, the blue draining from his skin. She nestled into his now-warm arms, sighing contentedly.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, still reverent.

She just smiled. "Imagine the money we'll save on air conditioning in the summer," she murmured, eliciting a chuckle from him.

They were quiet then, and just when Loki thought she had drifted off to sleep, Natasha spoke once more. "I still love you, Loki."

He kissed her forehead, his throat so tight with emotion it was difficult to speak. "I love you too," he whispered, although the words didn't come close to what he meant.

The silence of the room drifted on like the glaciers beneath them, and wrapped them up in sleep.


A/N: Your wonderful comments are about all that keep me going on this story by now. I think part of me doesn't want to finish it because then it will be OVER. And that will be sad.

But finish it, I must. At the most, this will last another two weeks, at the least, one. I just have to squeeze the last two chapters out. I must get them done soon because the movie and NaNoWriMo approach, and there will be no time and the cannon story will ruin it lol.

Lots of hugs for my wonderful followers-you are the reason I'm still going!