A Lot In Common : Loki x Natasha

It would have been a small wedding, but the man who was getting married was none other than the heir to the throne. Odin and Freya had commisioned a brand new ballroom for the celebration, and it was nothing short of extraordinary. Thor had spent the last six hours pacing nervously in his chambers. Loki was there, comforting his brother as he steeled himself for his new life as a husband. Loki had suggested that the wedding be celebrated Midgardian style, for it would make Thor's new husband feel more at home. Their parents had been furious at first, because not only was Thor marrying a human, his betrothed wasn't even a maiden. But when Steve came to meet them, his respectful manner and courteous shyness won them over. That was when Thor brought up Loki's idea, and they accepted it without second thought. The wedding was this evening, and Thor had to shower six times in as many hours to get rid of the nervous sweat covering his body. Loki was to be one of the best men. Since there was no bride, there would be two: Steve's and Thor's. Loki hadn't spent much time around Tony, apart from the whole trying to kill him bit. But he swallowed his anxiety so he could make it the best day possible for his brother. After Thor emerged from his latest wash, Loki pulled him aside onto a balcony attached to his chambers.

"Thor. I know you may never forgive me for the deeds I carried out on Midgard-"

"Brother, if I didn't forgive you, why would you be my greatest man?" Thor interrupted. Loki's eyes flashed briefly with something too complex for Thor to grasp.

"I just want you to know that my guilt knows no bounds. If you would like to shun me after the celebration-" Thor opened his mouth to ubject, but Loki placed his finger on the blond god's mouth. "Then I would not blame you. But I need you to know that I love you more than anyone could love a brother, for you are my best friend. We have been through much, together as brothers and warriors and apart as enemies. Part of me wishes for us to be boys again, unoccupied by war or hatred or even love. Part of me wishes you never fell in love. But the remaining half sees you with Steve and knows you have everything you deserve in him, and him in you. I do not want to burden your relationship with a brother who tried to slaughter your husband, and I will be taking some time alone after tonight." Loki paused, his heart in peices. "And you simply cannot wear that tie. It's too... garish. I'll go get you another." He walked swiftly away from his brother, leaving him to wonder what could possibly be garish about a black tie. As soon as Loki had gotten out of Thor's sight, he dissapeared with a loud crack, materialising in the bathroom ajoining his chambers. He leaned against the basin and splashed cold water over his raven-colored hair. He sobbed silently, lamenting on his own faults. He meant what he said to Thor, but he hadn't stated the whole truth: not only did he love his brother, he was in love with him. His sleek body was wracked by his cries as he sunk to the floor. But Thor would not, could not, ever know. There were other things he had kept from his brother, even in the knowledge that Thor told him everything. Thor didn't know that Loki was still a virgin. He didn't know how scared Loki was when he found out about his origins. He didn't know that Loki never had nightmares as a child, but had only claimed to so he could cuddle with Thor. Thor didn't know that he now his nights were clamed by unbearable nightmares, waking up every night withought fail, terribly cold and miserable, needing to feel the warm body of his brother next to him. He didn't know that Loki felt ice gathering on his face in the morning. He never knew the depth of feelings Loki had when he looked at Thor: love for the man's personality, pain at his own actions, pride at the strength of his heart and body, and lastly, overwhelmingly, worry that he might get his heart broken. Loki composed himself and straightened the black tie he wore, realizing that he needed to produce another one for Thor. He despaired for a moment, but then he conjuired one with a flick of his wrist. He gave it to a passing chambermaid and directed her to give it to Thor. He resolved to leave his emotions behind with Thor's wedding. This was his brother's night. And Loki would leave the next morning, journeying with no specific destination. This is Thor's night.

~~

Loki performed his wedding duties diligently, standing beside his brother and his brother's fiance. He did not allow himself the pleasure of emotions, just stood still and watch the two muscular, blond men exchange vows and rings. When the ceremony was over, the service flowed seamlessly into the reception, where the husbands cut the massive wedding cake. Loki didn't pay attention to anything, just focused on the numbness. He watched the beautiful men feed eachother, their smiles filling the whole room. His stomach turned, and he grabbed a champagne flute off of a passing tray. He was on his third when a slice of cake was thrust into his line of vision. He looked up and saw Steve gazing at him tentatively, as if he wasn't sure whether to shake his hand or run screaming. Loki took the cake and nodded at his new brother-in-law. When Steve didn't walk away, he took a bite to appease him. He saw Thor coming over, and he ducked into the crowd of mingling Midgardians and walked towards where the young waiters and waitresses were setting up the banquet. He wondered breifly why the cake had preceeded the feast. He loved the way the banquet room looked during celebations: gold fabric everywhere, exquisite goblets encrusted in rubies and emeralds, the high ceiling catching the last bit of the sun's rays. He grabbed a chair and pulled it towards the corner, setting the slice of wedding cake on a random surface. He felt as though he had swallowed a blazing coal, and the smooth white cake tasted sickly sweet. He was hungry, but he needed something to match his mood: bitter and sour. He eyed a large tureen filled with his favorite Midgardian delicacy: pickles. He snatched the tureen and sat in the corner, gazing into the vat of neon green liquids. He didn't notice the woman walking towards him until she reached her hand into the container. Loki looked up to see Natasha Romanoff, the redhead who had fought agaainst him. She was dressed in a modest, yet form-fitting, scarlet dress.

"Been looking all over for these. They were on the table a minute ago." Natasha grabbed another chair and set it next to Loki. "I love pickles." She grabbed a pickle and began to chomp on it. Loki could smell the alchohol on her breath even over the odour of the pickles. He watched as she ate the pickle and raised an eyebrow.

"Are you intoxicated, Miss Natasha?" Loki asked softly. She rolled her eyes and reached for another pickle.

"Can't stand weddings. They're so long." Loki grabbed a pickle.

"You're lucky we did it the Midgardian way. The traditional royal wedding here takes days." Natasha began to respond, but choked on a bit of pickle. Loki thumped her back as the coughing died down. There was something about her that just oozed with sex appeal, even to a man as heartbroken and war weary as Loki. Even choking, she moved in a very sensual manner. Loki cracked a smile at her. "I don't think we've been introduced properly. I'm Loki Odinson." He decided he should probably use his traditional name around the courts, so as not to offend anyone. Natasha crunched away at her pickle.

"Congrats on the wedding," she mumbled through a mouthful of pickle, cheeks puffed out to the side.

"You are really intoxicated." This time it was a statement rather than a suggestion. Natasha giggled.

"'Course I am. I hate weddings."

"No. You hate this one." Loki could tell that she had never gotten this hammered.

"Yup. Guilty. I didn't even want to come."

"So why did you?"

"Why did you? I can see you got a thing for Mr. Thunder." Loki drew back, looking at the floor.

"Is it that apparent?"

"Nope. But we're in the same boat."

"How so? I do not understand."

"Steve chose Thor over me. How do you think it feels when your boyfriend leaves you for another man?"

"At least he kew how you felt."

"That's true. But if he knew my feelings for him, and ended it, that's worse."

"In a way. But this has kept me from falling in love again."

"How long have you loved him?"

"Since we were boys, and he got injuired when I pushed him down a flight of stairs."

"That's rough, seeing him married to another."

"I won't have to see it for long. I shall embark in the morning."

"For where?"

"Anywhere but here." Loki summoned waiter carrying a bottle of white wine. He took the wine and shooed the waiter away.

"That bad, huh?"

"I look at him and I feel everything that I did wrong. When you Avengers gathered, that was my second time attempting to overthrow Midgard." Natasha tilted her head to one side, clearly interested. "I'm going to have to start from the beginning, aren't I?" Natasha nodded, grabbing yet another pickle as Loki chugged the wine. "I had a happy childhood. Thor and I were inseperable, at least that's how it felt to me. He had other friends, Sif and the Warriors Three. They allowed my accompaniment because Thor wanted it. Maybe he was just too gentle to send me away. I told him everything. But my childhood was a lie." Loki threw a pickle at a passing waitress for effect. She mumbled something about what she'd do to him if he wasn't a prince. "I'm not like them. They're muscular and tan and warm. My structure is composed of ice, and theirs of sun. My true form is a tall blue frost giant. A Jotun." Loki spat pickle juice at the ground. They sat in silence for a minute, pickles crunching. "Odin found me as an infant and bewitched me to look like them. He brought me up as his son, him and Freya. We always knew there would only be one to take the throne, but life was happy. Ingnorance is bliss, as your adage goes. I found my true form by accident, shortly after Thor was named heir." Loki paused, his throat closing momentarily. He swiftly drank another large mouthful of wine. "I was devastated. I confronted Odin. But he had other troubles. Thor's arrogance, for one. He was banished to your United American States to learn humility, as I raged silently. Everyone missed him, nobody noticed me. I wanted revenge, so I followed him and, er, caused some mischief. That's my trait, you know....
"Then, although Loki and Odin offered to accept me back as though nothing had happened, I could not bear the truth of my identity. There's a rainbow bridge thet runs between our worlds, and many others too, and it crumbled my my own doing. I was about to fall, holding on to Thor for my life, when I saw his eyes. Pity. I...cannot...stand....pity." Loki drank the last of the wine, and threw the bottle at the ground, startling a young girl looking for the toilet chambers. "I wanted to die, anything but his pity. Anything but living as a Jotun." Loki paused and grabbed another bottle of wine off a nearby table. Natasha was enthralled by his story, a half eaten pickle grasped in her hand, forgotten.  Unfortunately for everyone, I'm not killed so easily. I fell for what felt like aeons, and all I could feel was the cold and the hunger and the pain, and oh, the thirst.
"I came to be in another dimension, one of monsters and rocks and darkness. They fed from my jealousy. They told me I would reign, if I only brought them one little thing. I agreed foolishly. But the little thing was more significant than they made it out to be. The tessaract. So much power in one little blue square." Loki's eyes flared greedily. "When I realised its potential fortraveling throughout time, I wanted it for myself. But the monsters corrupted me. When I was on Midgard, fighting for the tessaract, I changed my mind. Instead of bringing it to them, I planned to use it to prevent Odin from sheltering me in the first place. I would never know Thor, never know the pain of betrayal, but there I would be the golden boy. I would finally get to be Thor's equal. But I underestimated you and your fellow warriors. The strength, courage, loyalty, and love. I failed, and nobody will ever forgive me. Not even myself. I want to run away, and maybe they'd forget." Loki could tell that Natasha was speechless. She gazed at Loki as he gazed at the saccharine gold hues above him. There were noises, of course, as guests gradually seated themselves at the tables, but Loki didn't care. He had finally told everything. He startled when she spoke.

"Take me with you." She looked at him so earnestly. His story about loss and betrayal had brought back a flurry of images from her life, mostly the painful ones. She could see the raw grief in her heart reflected in his deep green eyes. She looked into the emerald-colored pools, and leaned in closely. Loki grabbed her gently by the neck and brought their lips together. Neither of them cared about the taste of pickles and alcohol. Natasha was enveloped in his arms. Loki could feel something tir inside of him, something deeply buried and as forgotten as the vat of pickles now spilled on the floor. Something that felt faintly like....happiness.