Who: Loki and Natasha What: Loki arrives home When: During the medieval plot Where: Natasha’s home Warning: Low Status: Completed Gdoc
Natalia was returning to her home and had drifted near the board to read the latest messages from the priest, but it had only served to make her more nervous. After reading them, she had checked to make sure no one saw her before adjusting the coverings over her bright red hair and moving on her way. Yes, she was clearly a noble lady, but she didn’t think that would stop some of the more excitable followers of the preacher.
As she reached her home and dismissed the single guard - the only one she could afford right now, and likely that wouldn’t last long unless her sister managed to secure the prince’s favor - her eyes drifted back the way she’d come and she nearly stumbled when, for an instant, she thought she saw a familiar face. Blinking several times, the figure was gone the next time she looked, and her heart ached - it had been nearly sixteen years since she’d seen the man she loved, and she missed him still.
With a quiet sigh, she made her way further up the path, heading for her front door.
Loki was very much not dead. He’d been conscripted off to war, and had no choice but to leave. Unfortunately, he’d been damaged on the battlefield, which delayed his return. Delayed… for a very long time. Now that he was a damaged person, physically disabled, Loki knew he was no longer worthy of the love of a woman he was quite taken with--the woman he wanted desperately to return to.
Many years ago, after his injury and being discharged from military service, Loki turned his attention to seeking ways to heal himself, to become stronger. He knew that if he was ever going to return and seek out Natasha again, he would have to become worthy. What he found in his world travels convinced him that he could return. Though years and years had gone by.
What Natasha saw was, indeed, Loki. Though, he wasn’t really ready to be seen yet. He hid in the shadows, trying to get a good look at the love of his past. On his travels back, he’d heard that there was a wedding on the horizon. If she was, indeed, planning on marrying someone else, Loki would not stand in the way--but he wanted to glimpse her one last time before saying goodbye.
Finally, he came out of the shadows, removing the magical cloak he’d used to conceal himself. He stepped up the path toward the home, hoping to catch her for a word. The breeze brought a gentle waft of her perfume, and he found himself transported back in time.
“Natasha.” He said it loud enough for her to hear, but soft enough to not be overheard.
And now she was hearing his voice! It froze her in her tracks, that remembered timbre and whisper of the name others rarely used for her, and she shivered, just a little. Fully expecting to find nothing behind her, she looked over her shoulder - then stared in amazement at a figure who stood directly where she’d walked only moments earlier.
“...Loki?” She asked just as softly, and while there was the possibility that this was some sort of witchcraft, she couldn’t help the swell of joy in her heart. Turning to him more fully, Natasha hurried to him and wrapped her arms around him to make sure he was solid and real and alive. “It is you,” she breathed softly, before pressing her lips to his.
Loki wasn’t sure what he expected out of a reunion with Natasha, but it definitely wasn’t this. He thought she was going to slap him, to yell, to turn her back on him and never forgive him for being away for so long. Still, her reaction was not unwelcome. Surprised, sure, but pleasantly so, he wrapped his arms around her and buried his nose in the scarf covering her hair.
“It’s me,” he responded, but then his lips were caught by hers in a gentle kiss. It was a kiss that nearly made his toes curl. It’d been far too long since he’d touched or been touched by someone he cared about as much as he cared about the woman in his arms.
…apparently, she wasn’t the one marrying someone else? Or she wouldn’t have kissed him this way.
She let the kiss linger for several seconds, then slowly broke it and looked up into his eyes. Tears were already spilling from her own as she lifted a hand and touched it against his pale cheek. “How? Where were you? I heard - I thought you had died,” she said, still only half believing that he was here and she wasn’t imagining all this.
Realizing just how much they were out in the open, her hand left his cheek and she caught his hands to tug him towards her home. “What happened?”
The sight of the tears twisted like a knife in Loki’s stomach. He lifted a hand to cup her cheek, running his thumb along her skin to brush one away. “I was wounded. It took me a long time to return home to you, but I…” He brought his hand around to take hold of hers.
“I heard there was to be a wedding.”
"I've missed you every day," she told him. At the comment about a wedding, she was confused for a moment, then blinked in remembrance.
"My sister, Irina. She's hoping to wed the Prince, but it isn't yet official. Is that why you returned? You thought I was the one getting married?"
Loki had never been one to be so open about his feelings. She was always much plainer--blunter--than he. Still, his actions proved what he felt, and before being conscripted to the service, Loki had told her in simple words how much he loved her. Now it was obvious in the softness of his gaze, the firm grip of his arms around her.
He didn’t respond that he missed her, too, though it was likely obvious to her. She could read him like an open book.
“Your… sister.” Loki responded. And his body visibly relaxed. “I feared that you--” But the sentence caught in his throat. His hand tightened around hers. “I was gravely injured, Natasha. I couldn’t come home to you a broken man. It took time to find myself again, and I feared it was too late.”
She savored the familiarity in his face and his hold, though so much time had passed. When he replied, she nodded, then squeezed his hand in answer. In all that time, Natasha had not loved any other, aside from their daughter - who, she realized, he wouldn’t know.
“You know that I’d want you no matter what,” she said gently, then shook her head a little. “It isn’t too late, not for us. But…there is something you need to know. When you left, I was pregnant. I didn’t find out until after I was told that you’d died,” she said softly, then smiled.
“We have a daughter, Loki.”
Loki lifted her hand, wrapped in his and pressed a kiss against it. She was here in his arms again and he could hardly believe it.
But then came the news that stopped him short. He blinked at her, his face falling into an expression torn between shock and confusion. "I beg your pardon?"
"We have a daughter," Natasha repeated, smiling faintly at his reaction. "Her name is Maxine. I've told her about you, and she always wished she could meet you someday."
And now, her daughter would have that wish fulfilled. There was no doubt in her mind that the three of them would be a family at last.
The news made Loki slightly nauseated. He had always wondered and hoped… but to be a father was a lot of pressure. Even though his heart was full of love for her, there was also so much fear. "I… I think I might need to sit down."
His arms tightened around her for a moment. He couldn't believe he had a daughter. Love made personified. It made his chest ache.
"We can sit inside my home. She isn't there right now, so you needn't feel overwhelmed just yet," she said gently, but paused outside the door to rest her head on his chest and close her eyes.
Above all, she was just happy to have him back. She knew that there was likely more to the story about how he'd stayed away for so long, but it could wait.
Loki nodded. He let her lead the way to the door, but paused to hold her in his arms for a moment. "I had forgotten how good this feels." His hand moved gently up and down her back. He paused for a long time, holding her tightly. "Take me inside and tell me more of our daughter."
Natasha smiled at his words, just glad to have him there once again, then looked up and nodded. “Alright,” she said softly, before opening the door and drawing him inside, then tugging off her cloak, as well as the shawl that hid the red of her hair.
“I can’t wait until you meet her.”
“Nor can I.” Loki’s heart was thundering at the thought of meeting his teenage daughter. He was certain to be a terrible father, but perhaps it wouldn’t be as bad as he feared. He had magic now. Perhaps that would help.
As her hair was exposed from under her shawl, Loki’s eyes were drawn to it. The red was redder than he remembered. It was even more beautiful. She was even more beautiful. He closed and locked the door behind them, and followed her into the home, tugging off his own cloak. He hung it by the door, then turned his attention back to the room.
“This place… it is just as I remembered.”
Moving to the hearth, Natasha stirred the embers a bit to relight a fire to chase away any chill, then straightened and turned to him again. “I’m glad,” she said with a smile. It was still so strange to see him standing there, as tall and handsome as she remembered, but it was precious to her as well, and she held her hands out to him.
“I hope that there are other things you remember,” she said softly as she studied his eyes. “You don’t know how happy having you here makes me.”
Loki took a few moments to take a turn of the room, eyes on everything except the woman he loved--the woman he had fought so hard to return to. Years had not taken any of her beauty. The smile she wore when she looked at him made his insides stir. He turned back to her when she held her hands out to him, and in a few long strides he took them in his own.
“I remember everything, though I fear that my memory has not served me well.” One hand lifted to the side of her face, to tuck hair behind her ear. “I remembered you were lovely, but your beauty far surpasses even my most generous thoughts.”
As he took her hands and then touched her hair Natasha blushed faintly even as she smiled at him. She couldn't help but love him.
"One thing that has changed is that we no longer have to steal time to be together." Though it had been fun back then, seeking one another out behind closed doors and in dark corners. Now, she was of course conscious of when to expect Maxine, but aside from that there were no demands on her time or attention. Stepping closer, she kissed him again, letting her lips linger this time as the kiss deepened.
A little smirk crossed Loki’s lips at that. “I’m not sure we’ll know what to do with ourselves if we no longer have to sneak about.” But then she stepped up to him and kissed him again. This time it was the kind of kiss he remembered well--the kind of kiss whose memory kept him warm on cold, lonely nights. His arms wrapped down and around her waist, drawing her into him. He’d missed this. He was a little concerned that he’d forgotten how to do this properly. But in a moment he was kissing her hungrily, having remembered what this all felt like. How to move. What to do with his hands. His tongue.
He pulled back after a moment, breathing hard, his forehead resting against hers. “I needed to return to you a whole person.” He paused for a moment, wondering how much he should say.
“Natasha.” He opened his eyes to look into hers, pulling back a little so he could focus on her face. “I found magic to make myself whole again after my injury.”
It would have been easy to become lost in the kiss, in Loki, once again as she had so many times when they were both younger. When he drew back, her eyes opened slowly to meet his, and her smile remained in place even as he spoke.
“How exactly were you injured?” She asked slowly, then blinked when he said he’d found magic. There was the initial concern, one bred more from society than her own beliefs - but then, the same people who considered magic evil also felt the same about her simply because she had red hair and had a child out of wedlock.
“What magic?”
Loki felt the urge, too. He wanted nothing more than to lose himself in her, the way they had when they were young. Only, this time they could do whatever they wanted--they were adults, they had years under their belts now. And he had power now. He was worthy of her in a way that he hadn’t been when they were sneaking off to kiss behind closed doors, hiding in bushes and around corners.
But he had to explain. He owed that to her. And so much more.
“I was stabbed on the battlefield.” It wasn’t pretty. “The wound was deep, and left me with numbness in my leg, so much pain.” He cringed slightly thinking of it. “I was… desperate. Miserable. You have no idea, Natasha.” He’d flip flopped between wanting to die and wanting to come home to her. But he couldn’t return broken. He had to become strong again.
“Regenerative magic.” He lifted a hand and uncurled his fingers, where wisps of green light flowed between them.
“I wish you had come home then,” she told him. “I would have taken care of you, helped you heal.” And she would have forsaken her family name if it had come to it, without looking back.
Her eyes left his and fell to his hand, then widened as he opened it to reveal a strange green light. She knew little of magic or anything of that nature, and while her first instinct - bred from years of the Church’s teachings - was to be afraid, this was Loki. Natasha knew she could never be afraid of him.
Both of her hands lifted and carefully cupped the one that he held up. “What can you do with this power?”
“Natasha, you know I couldn’t,” he responded. “I needed to be worthy of you. I needed for your family to approve. If I returned broken and was banished from your home, it would have killed me.” Loki wasn’t exactly liked by the community in their youth.
“Many things,” Loki responded. “I am able to heal much faster than before I learned this power. I can enchant the mind, create illusions for others. I can conjure items, store them in the nether. I can move items with the power of my mind.” He wondered if she was afraid of him now.
“But I am still me. I am still the man who loves you.”
“I would have left with you, had it come to that,” she said softly. Her eyes left his hand as he spoke, and met his once again. All of that didn’t matter, not really.
A smile bloomed on her lips, and she let go of his hands and slid her arms around him once more. “I have never stopped loving you in return,” Natasha told him softly. “I’m so glad you’re home.”