Natalia Romanova

@redxinmyledger

Loki checked the last working readout on the Statesman as he set her down as carefully as he could on the small planet. Breathable atmosphere, evidence of some previous civilisation he hoped he could scavenge. And one singular beacon, broadcasting a blip on the emergency frequency, the universal 'I'm here, please help'.

He didn't bother with the main bulkhead; instead he disengaged the cabin blast doors and jumped down onto the rocky surface via the gaping hole in the side of the aft deck. He surveyed the damage. The whole rear half of the ship was more like swiss cheese than a viable transport. Still, she'd got him this far.

He cast a mote of light that bobbed greenish in the space above his head, casting everything in a sickly glow.

He hasn’t asked or pushed for information about her, but she was more than willing to give it to him. She felt comfortable around him; safe, maybe. Then again, was one ever truly safe? Calm might have been a better word. She was less on edge than she had been in ages, and it felt good to let her guard down a bit.

“Mm. I look forward to hearing them.” She gave him a grin that was more of a smirk than anything else, and led him in the directions of the shops.

Luck seemed to be on their side. The second shop Natasha decided on carried an array of clothing; boots, legging-like pants, tunics and undershirts. Nat chose an oversized blue tunic and a pair of brown pants with deep pockets; stylish, yet functional. She found a pair of brown boots and a blue scarf to tie back her hair, as well as a couple sets of practical undergarments. Her suit would need a good washing, but the undershirt she currently had on was mostly clean and would do just fine with her new outfit.

Clint woke to the smell of coffee earlier than he usually did. He started to roll over, intending to go back to sleep when he remembered that today he and Tasha were going to decorate their home for Christmas. They'd already bought a tree the week before, leaving it undecorated so Liho and Lucky could adjust to the tree without breaking anything.

He jumped out of bed and hurried thru his morning routine before racing downstairs like it was already Christmas morning to pour himself a cup of coffee.

He held out a hand to Archer.

@redxinmyledger

Loki checked the last working readout on the Statesman as he set her down as carefully as he could on the small planet. Breathable atmosphere, evidence of some previous civilisation he hoped he could scavenge. And one singular beacon, broadcasting a blip on the emergency frequency, the universal 'I'm here, please help'.

He didn't bother with the main bulkhead; instead he disengaged the cabin blast doors and jumped down onto the rocky surface via the gaping hole in the side of the aft deck. He surveyed the damage. The whole rear half of the ship was more like swiss cheese than a viable transport. Still, she'd got him this far.

He cast a mote of light that bobbed greenish in the space above his head, casting everything in a sickly glow.

There was no denying the effect she was having on him, heat pooling and blood rushing, threatening to twitch, and if she had chosen to act on her desires in that moment he knew he would be ready, more than ready, as soon as she was.

"Do you promise?" He replied, voice cracking. Norns, he didn't know whether to be unashamedly turned on, or embarrassed that she could have such an effect on him. Still, they had business to attend to. He needed to get it together for a little longer.

The way his voice cracked almost broke her. Here he was, a literal god (more or less), pleading for her to have her way with him. It was enough to make her press her thighs together and shudder, cheeks flushing as she kept her eyes locked onto his. “I promise.”, She murmured, her own voice barely a whisper. “If you promise to make those pretty sounds you made last night.”

If she had her way, they would already be somewhere private by now; away from prying eyes, and having their way with each other. But it was fun to tease and build up the tension before getting gratification, and that’s exactly what Natasha planned to do.

@redxinmyledger

Loki checked the last working readout on the Statesman as he set her down as carefully as he could on the small planet. Breathable atmosphere, evidence of some previous civilisation he hoped he could scavenge. And one singular beacon, broadcasting a blip on the emergency frequency, the universal 'I'm here, please help'.

He didn't bother with the main bulkhead; instead he disengaged the cabin blast doors and jumped down onto the rocky surface via the gaping hole in the side of the aft deck. He surveyed the damage. The whole rear half of the ship was more like swiss cheese than a viable transport. Still, she'd got him this far.

He cast a mote of light that bobbed greenish in the space above his head, casting everything in a sickly glow.

"Even me up, is it? Beautiful symmetry." He grinned back. If she wanted to, he was more than happy with that.

He had to lean forward to catch her words, and that had left him entirely exposed to her not-quite-sneak-attack, as he felt her fingers tangle in his hairline he had only a fraction of a second to react before she tugged.

He could not prevent the gasp, the intake of breath she pulled from him. His eyes blinked closed, and stayed so a fraction too long to be a simple blink. If they hadn't been in a busy street, his knees might have folded underneath him. But there would be time for that.

Had they not been out in the open, surrounded by people, she would have kissed him; pressed her body flush against his and taken his breath away. She was strongly tempted to drag him into the nearest building and have her way with him, but they had things to do. Clothes to buy and weapons and food to gather.

“Oh, I’m a very dangerous woman, Loki.”, She purred, keeping her lips close to his ear. “In more ways than one.” She brushed her hands down his chest, licking her lips as she gazed into his eyes. “And if we weren’t in the middle of a busy street, I would push you to the ground and ride you until you couldn’t think straight. Touch every inch of you and make you scream my name.” She let her hands fall to her sides with a dramatic sigh.

Clint woke to the smell of coffee earlier than he usually did. He started to roll over, intending to go back to sleep when he remembered that today he and Tasha were going to decorate their home for Christmas. They'd already bought a tree the week before, leaving it undecorated so Liho and Lucky could adjust to the tree without breaking anything.

He jumped out of bed and hurried thru his morning routine before racing downstairs like it was already Christmas morning to pour himself a cup of coffee.

@redxinmyledger

Loki checked the last working readout on the Statesman as he set her down as carefully as he could on the small planet. Breathable atmosphere, evidence of some previous civilisation he hoped he could scavenge. And one singular beacon, broadcasting a blip on the emergency frequency, the universal 'I'm here, please help'.

He didn't bother with the main bulkhead; instead he disengaged the cabin blast doors and jumped down onto the rocky surface via the gaping hole in the side of the aft deck. He surveyed the damage. The whole rear half of the ship was more like swiss cheese than a viable transport. Still, she'd got him this far.

He cast a mote of light that bobbed greenish in the space above his head, casting everything in a sickly glow.

He followed her lead, trying to shake off the feeling of his heart in his throat, noodle cup forgotten in one hand.

"Strategic. That is kind." He took a deep breath. "Underhanded would probably be the word more often applied." Poison, misinformation. The darker side of diplomacy. Political intrigue. "I can wargame well enough, but no, leading in the field isn't for me. I'm better suited to the back line."

The idea of letting someone else, new and unknown, go diving in his memories was frankly terrifying. But if it might prove that he had not done it of his free will... It might be the difference between running, and being allowed to stay.

“We’ve both done things we wish we hadn’t. And I’m not saying that all of your decisions were influenced or controlled by Thanos. Our actions are our responsibility. But as far as the events of New York go, I’m almost positive you were doing someone else’s will and that you were not conscious of it.”

She paused and studied him for a moment, head tilted to one side as she considered her answer to his comment about Wanda. “She’s been through it, that’s for certain. Lost her parents as a child, then her brother. But she’s a strong woman. She can handle whatever’s in that head of yours.”

Hopefully. She didn’t even know what was in his head half the time, though they had only known each other for a full day. Nevertheless, she was confident in Wanda’s abilities to read minds and go into a persons head to find blocked memories. Maybe because she had allowed the woman to do it to her once or twice.

“She’s good at finding forgotten memories. Maybe a little too good.” Natasha shuddered as she remembered her first encounter with Wanda. Cold, metal bars beneath her hands. Rows and rows of young girls learning how to move gracefully, yet with purpose. And that steel table her ‘instructors’ had strapped her to so they could take away the last of her freedom to make decisions about her future. She squeezed her eyes shut and wrapped her arms around herself, trying to focus on Loki and his words instead of her horrific past.

It was strange to him that he trusted her judgement better than his own. But then, if he had been tampered with back then, who was to say there wasn't some lingering effect? And in any case, this Wanda was her friend, but a stranger to him. He would have to take so much of what was to come on faith alone.

He could tell that all of this was having an effect on her, too. This must be horribly familiar. He was more than happy to move on from it for the time being. File it away for later.

"Those marks, I retain very vividly indeed." He chuckled in a low purr, enjoying the flush on her cheeks. "I still feel your nails on me." He could picture her as she was last night too, and that was a dangerous mental image to linger on, especially in public. Norns, he wasn't that much of a schoolboy, was he?

For a moment, Natasha wondered what it would be like to live a ‘normal’ life. To run a business and meet new people every day, to be happy and carefree and so focused on her life, she wasn’t worried about the happenings around her. She wasn’t bitter about the fall of the dice that had decided her fate in the world. Her mind moved at a million miles an hour; assessing and reassessing her surroundings and every situation she found herself in. Constantly working to keep her and the people she cared about safe. No, there would be no slow life for Natasha Romanoff. And she was perfectly okay with that.

It meant the world to know that Loki trusted her judgement. She wasn’t used to people taking her at her word, and it felt nice to be trusted so thoroughly.

@redxinmyledger

Loki checked the last working readout on the Statesman as he set her down as carefully as he could on the small planet. Breathable atmosphere, evidence of some previous civilisation he hoped he could scavenge. And one singular beacon, broadcasting a blip on the emergency frequency, the universal 'I'm here, please help'.

He didn't bother with the main bulkhead; instead he disengaged the cabin blast doors and jumped down onto the rocky surface via the gaping hole in the side of the aft deck. He surveyed the damage. The whole rear half of the ship was more like swiss cheese than a viable transport. Still, she'd got him this far.

He cast a mote of light that bobbed greenish in the space above his head, casting everything in a sickly glow.

He followed her lead, trying to shake off the feeling of his heart in his throat, noodle cup forgotten in one hand.

"Strategic. That is kind." He took a deep breath. "Underhanded would probably be the word more often applied." Poison, misinformation. The darker side of diplomacy. Political intrigue. "I can wargame well enough, but no, leading in the field isn't for me. I'm better suited to the back line."

The idea of letting someone else, new and unknown, go diving in his memories was frankly terrifying. But if it might prove that he had not done it of his free will... It might be the difference between running, and being allowed to stay.

“We’ve both done things we wish we hadn’t. And I’m not saying that all of your decisions were influenced or controlled by Thanos. Our actions are our responsibility. But as far as the events of New York go, I’m almost positive you were doing someone else’s will and that you were not conscious of it.”

She paused and studied him for a moment, head tilted to one side as she considered her answer to his comment about Wanda. “She’s been through it, that’s for certain. Lost her parents as a child, then her brother. But she’s a strong woman. She can handle whatever’s in that head of yours.”

Hopefully. She didn’t even know what was in his head half the time, though they had only known each other for a full day. Nevertheless, she was confident in Wanda’s abilities to read minds and go into a persons head to find blocked memories. Maybe because she had allowed the woman to do it to her once or twice.

“She’s good at finding forgotten memories. Maybe a little too good.” Natasha shuddered as she remembered her first encounter with Wanda. Cold, metal bars beneath her hands. Rows and rows of young girls learning how to move gracefully, yet with purpose. And that steel table her ‘instructors’ had strapped her to so they could take away the last of her freedom to make decisions about her future. She squeezed her eyes shut and wrapped her arms around herself, trying to focus on Loki and his words instead of her horrific past.

Clint woke to the smell of coffee earlier than he usually did. He started to roll over, intending to go back to sleep when he remembered that today he and Tasha were going to decorate their home for Christmas. They'd already bought a tree the week before, leaving it undecorated so Liho and Lucky could adjust to the tree without breaking anything.

He jumped out of bed and hurried thru his morning routine before racing downstairs like it was already Christmas morning to pour himself a cup of coffee.

@redxinmyledger

Loki checked the last working readout on the Statesman as he set her down as carefully as he could on the small planet. Breathable atmosphere, evidence of some previous civilisation he hoped he could scavenge. And one singular beacon, broadcasting a blip on the emergency frequency, the universal 'I'm here, please help'.

He didn't bother with the main bulkhead; instead he disengaged the cabin blast doors and jumped down onto the rocky surface via the gaping hole in the side of the aft deck. He surveyed the damage. The whole rear half of the ship was more like swiss cheese than a viable transport. Still, she'd got him this far.

He cast a mote of light that bobbed greenish in the space above his head, casting everything in a sickly glow.

"That is... a plausible theory." He wasn't sure whether he wanted it to be true. If it was so he had taken the fall and the responsibility, again, for actions that had not been of his own free will. It would be easier if it were not true; Earth and Asgard thought him guilty anyway. "It would explain my... lapses in memory, if I were not encoding that which was unnecessary."

He shivered. The concept of being reduced to something even lesser, a perverse marionette, was deeply disturbing. Oh, Barton deserved to kill him twice over.

"It might also explain why my plan was so... forwardly aggressive?" Was that what it was? "Leading an army into battle is very Asgardian, but it's not playing to my strengths."

He didn't really feel like eating any more.

The more she got to know him, the more Natasha was convinced Loki had been used. He clearly had a good heart, though it had been wounded time and time again until he had learned to shut down his emotions and react in pain. It was obvious he had loved his partner and children; still did, and though his relationship with Thor was complicated, he seemed to truly want to try and make it work.

She took a bite of her noodles and gestured for him to follow her as she began to walk. She didn’t exactly have a set destination in mind, but getting active helped her think better.

“You don’t really seem like an ‘army leader’. You’re more the strategic type, in my opinion.” She hoped he wouldn’t consider her comment rude. Natasha didn’t like to beat around the bush when it came to important things, or anything, really. She was always straightforward and honest.

Well, when she was being herself. It was a whole different ballgame when she had a cover and was playing a part. She stopped walking and thought about his question. “We could see Wanda when we return to earth. She might be able to help.” If she’s still alive.

Clint woke to the smell of coffee earlier than he usually did. He started to roll over, intending to go back to sleep when he remembered that today he and Tasha were going to decorate their home for Christmas. They'd already bought a tree the week before, leaving it undecorated so Liho and Lucky could adjust to the tree without breaking anything.

He jumped out of bed and hurried thru his morning routine before racing downstairs like it was already Christmas morning to pour himself a cup of coffee.

@redxinmyledger

Loki checked the last working readout on the Statesman as he set her down as carefully as he could on the small planet. Breathable atmosphere, evidence of some previous civilisation he hoped he could scavenge. And one singular beacon, broadcasting a blip on the emergency frequency, the universal 'I'm here, please help'.

He didn't bother with the main bulkhead; instead he disengaged the cabin blast doors and jumped down onto the rocky surface via the gaping hole in the side of the aft deck. He surveyed the damage. The whole rear half of the ship was more like swiss cheese than a viable transport. Still, she'd got him this far.

He cast a mote of light that bobbed greenish in the space above his head, casting everything in a sickly glow.

"Love, care, and a protection also. Like a ring on a finger or my little box. It's a mark that you have someone waiting for you. Not really something one does to oneself." He liked the idea of doing her up in full Asgardian style, if only for the look on Thor's face when she walked in the room dressed like a goddess. If he was still alive, that is. "I'm not averse to braiding for you, if you like it done. In the City, the rules were more relaxed."

He had just accepted the bowls of noodle salad and was about to make a comment about experimental meals, when her exclamation stopped him in his tracks, and the bottom dropped out of his stomach. He had known about the power of the sceptre, of course, he'd needed to use it. But now he thought of it, aside from begging for his life at the foot of the Titan's throne, much of his time there was afflicted with the same foggy lack of memory.

She had more questions about braiding. Did certain types of braids mean different things? Were the braids worn by females different from the ones the men wore? But she tucked those away for later, instead focusing on the absolute bombshell Loki had unknowingly dropped on her.

She accepted the bowl he held out and gave herself some time to think before answering. “Yes, you did say that. But you also mentioned not really remembering anything until Banner flung you around and you hit your head. In order to get Clint free from the mind control, I had to hit him really hard on the head.” She took a bite of her food, too caught up in her thought process to notice the taste just yet.

@redxinmyledger

Loki checked the last working readout on the Statesman as he set her down as carefully as he could on the small planet. Breathable atmosphere, evidence of some previous civilisation he hoped he could scavenge. And one singular beacon, broadcasting a blip on the emergency frequency, the universal 'I'm here, please help'.

He didn't bother with the main bulkhead; instead he disengaged the cabin blast doors and jumped down onto the rocky surface via the gaping hole in the side of the aft deck. He surveyed the damage. The whole rear half of the ship was more like swiss cheese than a viable transport. Still, she'd got him this far.

He cast a mote of light that bobbed greenish in the space above his head, casting everything in a sickly glow.

"I used to do it for Angrboða. She had hair like yours, and she took it upon herself to teach me. It is, was, a cultural shorthand for her people, woodland folk. Parents braid their children's hair. Spouses braid for one another, and the unmarried wear theirs loose. And then some cut theirs short, which suggests they aren't looking for someone to braid for them. To 'make someone else's hair grow' is even an idiom for that person falling in love with you."

Perhaps that too much, but they both seemed in the spirit of sharing. "I wouldn't presume to braid yours, but I can picture you in Asgardian braids. They would not look out of place." They would suit her indeed, but he didn't wish to inadvertently imply more than she was comfortable with.

"I'm not familiar, I fear." He admitted of the question about pasta, as they slowed naturally to look at the nearest of the noodle stands. "I must have eaten at least once in the days between being sent forth from the fleet and being returned to Asgard, but I do not remember what it was. There are moments I do recall with clarity... Stuttgart for one, our conversation for another... but everything else is a blur, up to the moment Banner smashed me into Stark's floor. After that, it's all sickeningly high definition."

He hadn't admitted that to anyone before. Not even himself.

Taking the initiative, he stepped up and ordered two bowls of the noodle salad.

“Here on earth, it’s usually something girls and women do for each other; a sign of friendship or sisterhood. Or it’s simply a way to keep your hair out of your face. But I much prefer the definition you’ve just provided me with.”

She felt honored that he trusted her with something so close to his chest. “I would let you braid my hair.” The words left her mouth before she could stop them. “The meaning is different on earth, so it wouldn’t have to be something overly intimate. But I do like the idea of your hands in my hair.”

Natasha’s love language had always been physical touch. Ironic, considering her shitty past, yet it was true. She loved holding Clint’s kids when she went over to visit, and often times something as simple as one of her teammates putting their hand on her shoulder was enough to calm her nervous system. To make her feel safe.

“Noodles are amazing. They make them so many ways on earth. You can add sauces and cheese and meats…oh, and vegetables. It’s a dish with a lot of room for experimenting.”

She let him take the lead on ordering their breakfast while she mulled over his words. “Cognitive recalibration. That’s what I did to Barton to cure his mind control. Oh my gods….” What if Loki had been mind controlled? Was that even possible, considering who he was? That would certainly explain the vast difference between this side of him and the way he had been back on earth. She wouldn’t put it past Thanos to do some mind control technique on someone.

Clint woke to the smell of coffee earlier than he usually did. He started to roll over, intending to go back to sleep when he remembered that today he and Tasha were going to decorate their home for Christmas. They'd already bought a tree the week before, leaving it undecorated so Liho and Lucky could adjust to the tree without breaking anything.

He jumped out of bed and hurried thru his morning routine before racing downstairs like it was already Christmas morning to pour himself a cup of coffee.

Nat was on the verge of panicking, and that was never a good sign. She was usually able to remain calm and level headed, but Clint had been her partner for many years, and he couldn’t remember who she was.