He'd never seen anyone like him before, not in this portion of the forest. Hel, he rarely saw anyone since he'd been banished by Odin half a decade ago, and though his ears had perked up at the sound of her footsteps and labored breathing, his attention had been secured when he caught sight of her hair. Bright, fiery red. Just like his. His mouth parted as he watched her turn, then turn again, her brow pulled tight in frustration as she cursed and leaned against one the thicker tree trunks and ran both hands through her hair. Loki shifted near imperceptibly in the bushes he'd been lurking in once he'd caught the scent of a human entering his home, crouching deep enough in the bushes that even his horns were hidden, enough space in the shrubbery that he could stare out at her and hear what she was saying.

"God dammit, could he have given me any worse directions? Honestly, son of a bitch." She swore as she squinted over to the left of her. She didn't want to go that way. He didn't want her to go that way. She seemed to think the same, and so turned her gaze to what was behind her. Yes. She could go there and he could still follow. It would be better off that way honestly, there were more places for him to hide, to gather information about her. It could even be fun, and he'd been lacking that for some time. His lips curled into a grin.

Her hair flew around her as she turned on her heel and walked off, and Loki gave it a half a moment's thought, a minor reconsideration, before he decided to follow her. His feet were silent, bare, on the ground, stepping with familiar feet around the fallen branches and twigs that would've given his spot away. Not that she would've heard him over her mutterings to herself. She cursed a man named Clint for giving her shoddy directions, and Loki wished he could praise him. He'd never have seen this beauty if not for that man, though if he was to go off of what she was saying he was leading her in the entirely wrong direction. Good. The deeper into the forest she was, the less likely it would be she got out and away from him. Loki felt himself stirring at the idea of what would happen when she retired for the evening, exhausted and spent and deep within his forest. That all but made her his responsibility as far as he thought. And if she kept going the way she was currently? Well, he liked that idea very much.

He'd been so caught up in his own thoughts, particularly pleasing ones of her bent over and him buried deep inside her, that he barely noticed she'd stopped and was turning to try and find him. He froze and disappeared from his spot, his heart thudding hard in his chest. How had she done that? Of the few who wandered into his domain, none were able to tell when he followed them. He made damn certain of it. And now? She stared right where he had been standing not all that long ago, completely unaware of his presence as far as he knew. He hoped. Perched above where she was standing he watched as she kept her eyes on trained on the same spot he'd been before shaking her head.

"Idiot. Nothing there, just your imagination." She muttered to herself, her voice husky and furious at the same time, cheeks ruddy in her own, supposedly private, embarrassment.

Did she often talk to herself, he wondered? Curious how he seemed to attract the less than wholly stable ones, yet he grinned all the same. All the hidden bits and piece, the fragments kept out of sight, all of it came out when they were stuck without an exit. His last visitor had not lasted long enough for his taste, and he'd been devoid of any and all other contact since then. Bloody territory lines.

He snapped out of his head again to watch her as she started moving. He'd really been there by himself for far too long if he was so prone to losing himself in his thoughts, yet perhaps with her there that would be fixed. He hoped. Licking his lips, he stretched himself over the limb to watch her disappear into the bushes, slick, bare skin moving along the thick tree limb as the red head found no discernable path in front of her, getting herself more and more lost. Loki slid down from his treetop to follow after her on foot once more, even more careful than before to keep from being seen. He wanted things to be perfect for when she did catch sight of him, but more than that he wanted her deeper in the forest so that if she ran, as so many had done in the past, she wouldn't escape his territory. More than once he shifted the shrubbery or a few plants out of the way so that she could take a clearer path, but it wasn't one that would see her through to the edge of the forest as it seemed she was trying to get to.

"Clint-if I ever make it out of here again," she was swearing, stopping for what must've been the tenth time in that hour to pull her long skirt free from the thorns she'd gotten it stuck on. It ripped, the slit long enough to make her snarl in her anger, more beast than lady, before she tore off a good portion of the fabric. Her shoes, like what had been the hem of her skirt, were muddied, and she tied the fabric around her midsection, as though anticipating needing it later. Resourceful. He admired that. As he followed her through the day he found himself making up stories about where she came from, what she was doing in his forest to begin with. Not many were keen to be found here, thinking it cursed, or haunted, or something of that ilk he assumed. Those few who returned were sure to have stories, and that was saying nothing of the many more whom never saw the edge of the forest after entering. But this fiery woman? Perhaps she came from the ancient training and proving grounds of the Valkyries, having landed on Midgard to complete a quest to prove her worth to the fighting maidens, or else she came from some outlandish society where women provided the backbone, the strength and stability of the people. Had she been plainer he might have thought she'd been hewn from a boulder and had been spelled to learn to walk and speak.

Or perhaps it was because she, as he, was kissed by fire, possessed by a spirit far beyond her understanding-beyond even his-that fueled her and burned those who dared to get too close. As Loki wished to. There was little better to do than set himself on fire, and he would enjoy the fire and heat all the more if so long as it came from her.

He watched her forage for berries as the afternoon passed on, her lips and fingertips stained a deep red as the sweet juice dribbled down her chin until she wiped it on the back of her arm. He longed to trace the stains with his tongue, to have her writhing beneath his touch and attention as he trailed the juice further down her body, devouring her whole the way she had begun to do the same to his mind. A deer stopped in a clearing just before her and, sneaking a look from behind a tree trunk, he watched as she swiftly removed a dagger from a pouch along her waist and threw it with enough skill to make even Tyr jealous. Though the kill was by no means clean, the knife embedding itself in the doe's neck so that it spasmed and fell in a kicking, bloody mess, she was fearless as she moved closer and deftly twisted its neck, the snap that followed hitting Loki as a blow to the gut.

Resolute, too, then. He liked that. It whetted his appetite as he watched her undo the band of fabric from around her waist and use it to tie up the quickly skinned animal, keeping it high enough out of reach for any other animal that might come to take her next meal. With two pieces of flint she also kept in her pouch, she started a fire on gathered branches and twigs, small enough to keep her warm and cook her meat without attracting attention. She must have been a nomad, then, to be so well versed in the killing of animals and self-preservation skills just demonstrated to him, and he wondered of her homeland. What sort of place would be idiotic enough to lose such an asset?

That he considered her of such high worth ought to have been testimony enough. The longer he was banished to this wood, forced to serve as mischievous spirit to the wayward idiots thick enough to get caught here, the more he found he hated the Midgardians.

He could never hate fire, however it came to him.

She ate and he felt his hunger grow, not for anything physical, but for her. He wished to consume her, to feel the weight of her in his arms, to know that she would never leave his side until Hel claimed her for herself. Even then perhaps he would strike a bargain with his daughter for this woman's soul. The ice of Helheim was worth struggling through if it meant he could keep her as his own.

The sun had begun to set, the light already growing dim enough as it filtered through the thick tree tops that the shadows of the woman's small fire became necessary so Loki could see the planes of her face, could watch it burn in her blue eyes and set her hair alight all the more. Again he felt himself stirring at the sight of her, his mouth going dry at the idea of appearing before her and demanding she service him, but having seen what she could do perhaps his usual mode of conquest was not the best of plans. He hung back, reclining in the shadows of the tall tree just to the left of her encampment, watching as she took to making plans for the evening. Without shame, she undid the lacings of her plain dress and squirmed out from under the fabric, balling it and placing it under her head. His eyes went wide to see the plain black fabric of her underthings, her breasts pressed up and near spilling out of her top, shapely legs covered in the same fabric that clung to every inch of her skin. His mouth watered to see her stretch, limber as a cat getting ready for its nap, and he leaned forward as her mouth opened in a soft, squeak of a moan that shot a bolt of arousal between his legs. Damn her for being so tempting. Her eyes closed, the exhaustion of her hike finally forcing her eyes to close and her breathing to slow. The crackle of the fire was soothing enough to send her to sleep and familiar and friendly enough to Loki that it willingly hid the sound of his descent from the tree onto the ground, the trickster god all but crawling closer to examine her further. Upon removing her dress she'd removed the belt she carried with her, and he couldn't help but rummage through it, his back to her as his attention was captured and held by his own ceaseless curiosity. For a woman who carried very little, he wondered what she did consider worthy enough of keeping. A few coins of foreign origin clinked gently in the leather pouch and he stilled at the noise, straining his ears to hear whether or not she would stir at the sound. Her breathing remained even, her body kept still, and the fire continued to whisper its lullabies to keep her deep in her sleep. He relaxed. His fingers found diamonds next, pulling them out to examine them by the firelight. They looked as though they'd been pried from their original holdings, the scratch marks on the sides too faint for a mortal to detect, but the truth of it brought a grin to his lips. So she was a thief, then. A trader if nothing else, eager to pawn off her wares and make her coins multiply. He could admire that.

He hadn't realized that the knife had been missing from the pouch until he felt it press up tight against his throat and his body went stiff as his cock had been moments ago at seeing her undress. For as friendly as the flames could be, it was just as treacherous, having hidden the noise of her awakening from him until she'd pressed her front to his back and the silver of the dagger was digging into his skin. Only real silver could do that.

"There's not many people who can sneak up on me," he said, the bobbing of his adams apple forcing the blade to make a leaf-thin incision. If she pressed hard enough, as hard as she had when she'd skinned the deer, she might even harm him.

"How did you find me?" Her voice was a low rasp, and from the corner of his eye he caught sight of her hair spilling onto his. He tried not to smirk.

"Of all the questions you seek to have answered, you choose that?" He couldn't help the laugh that spilled from his lips, and he watched the world spin around him rather than have any sort of concept of its movement as she flipped him to his back and straddled him. Oh, this was new. He'd heard Thor speak of this, of how Sif liked him on his back and being the doting husband he was unwilling to deny her anything, but never had he expected it to be so . . . enticing. He hardened against her near instantly, yet though she flushed her gaze narrowed, flicking up to his horns, then back down to his eyes.

"If you're keeping me here then stop it. Right now."

"I believe one could argue that it is you keeping me beneath you," he said, voice lilting with the reminder. Not that he wished her to move, unless it was to slide onto his cock and ride him as she might a horse.

He needed to get his mind back on track, getting nowhere with their current discussion. "I have been keeping an eye on you since you stepped into my domain."

"Are you a huldu?" She asked, pressing her knife a little harder to his neck, watching with lidded eyes as the blood beaded on the blade.

His lips pulled back in a grin, showing off teeth sharp enough to make her shudder. The friction and movement was delicious against his hot, too-sensitive skin, and he surged up against the blade. She relaxed it, and he caught her wrist in hand and pulled it away. "If so this is a poor way to show me respect, is it not? Ought I to punish you?"

Her full lips twisted in a sneer, and she removed herself from atop him. "You'd have done it already if you'd wanted to. Have done it the moment I stuck the blade to your throat. You're powerless, whatever, whoever you are." She wiped the blood from the knife onto her underthings before collecting her pouch and its belongings.

He gritted his teeth. A nobody, was he? His left hand shot out towards the fire and it surged upwards, the scent of sulfur hitting the air as the flame haired woman twisted to the side to stare at the pillar of fire. Her eyes blew wide as her pupils dilated at the sight, and when it finally calmed back down her gaze turned to Loki. She swallowed, watching as he rose to his feet with a wide, all knowing smirk.

"Who are you?" She asked, and this time her voice was as reverent as it ought to have been. Perhaps he'd scared her too much, but he thrived on how her heart pumped the faster for it, how her hands had began to tremble though she fisted them in the fabric of her under garments.

"I ought to ask you the same, and how you made your way into my forest," he said, voice dropping to a purr, bare feet silent as he began to pad around her. He walked through the fire simply to watch her face contort in disbelief and amazement, watched as the air left her lungs in a rush of noise. "Natalia."

Ah, a strong name, as fiery as she was. He repeated it, tasted it on his tongue, and stopped in front of her to give her his own as was fair. "I go by many. Lie-Smith, Silvertongue. Wolf father, and Laufeyson. Loki." With each name he watched her face contort, watched the realization dawn as swiftly as the sun would rise in the morning, watched her already fair skin go pale and her eyes go wide with shock. Natalia's knees seemed to buckle, as though she prepared herself to bend the knee, but thought better of it and remained standing. A bold move. Most were already begging for their lives then, though she seemed to have realized something was different about him. Rightly so.

"So, you aren't going to kill me." She said, phrasing what ought to have been a question as a statement as she kept her voice light and finally averting her eyes. He didn't like that as much as he thought he might, though, and reached forward to tip her head back up. A fire spirit should bow to no one.

"You seem certain," he countered. "I'm a changeable man."

"Aren't all men?" She asked without hesitation. "And you wouldn't have gone through the hassle of tracking me down unless you needed me for something. Tell me what it is?"

His back straightened, raising him to his full height. Her neck had to crane upwards in order to continue to meet his gaze, and when he pressed on, closer to her, he watched the color rise in her cheeks. "Do you often ask for answers from deities more powerful than you, little mortal?" He asked, voice colored with his amusement. He reached out to take a handful of hair and brought it to his nose. She smelled of the forest, and of something more floral, of a world perhaps he'd known in another life, and it made his heart ache. He wanted to make her smell like him.

"Only when I have something to offer them."

His eyes flicked upwards to stare into hers, amazed that she was strong enough to hold his gaze. Curious beast she was, incensing him further as he watched her drop the knife to the ground, and use the same hand to reach upwards. She had to stretch to reach his horns, running her fingers lightly over the curves of it, and he watched as her lips parted, breathing thin as she stroked each, then traced her fingers downwards. He let her, her curiosity fascinating to watch. No one had ever given him a second look as she was, all too eager to escape his attentions. She was proving herself to be all the more difficult to even consider letting go.

She caught his own red hair in her fingers, twisting the strands through her fingers without tugging at it, and dragging her nails across his scalp when she ran her hands through the entirety of his hair. He shivered, against his will, closing his eyes for a brief moment. He found hers were fixed on his lips, pupils blown wide, and without waiting for further invitation he closed the gap between them. Her back found its way to the nearest tree trunk as he devoured her whole. His tongue swept across her bottom lip, demanding entrance that she was too eager to give, and his hands palmed the fabric of her underthings, stretching them so tight they ripped in his hands and fell to the ground. All the better, he wanted her skin on his. Wanted it then, right that moment, wanted her to encompass him and never leave. She whimpered beneath him, and the sound shot straight to his gut, swift as any blow with a fist, forcing him to growl and hike her up into his arms. Her legs wrapped around his waist, Natalia a far faster learner than he would've expected, as he began to rut against her, the friction of the two of their bodies walking that fine line between what he wanted and not near enough. She breathed into his shoulder, the soft skin of her cheek pressed against his own bare shoulder. He jolted in surprise when she dug her teeth into his shoulder, groaning at the pain and surprise, and the jolt of pleasure made his cock ache all the harder.

"I want you. Now." He growled into her ear. "You're mine."

She didn't refute it, though her eyes narrowed when she pulled away to stare at him. "Tell me what you are."

Smart of her. He liked that, and he tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear before tugging on the whole lot of it, exposing her neck and forcing a shout of surprised arousal from her lips. "I told you. I'm a god."

She was certain to have a response to that, but he cut it off by lowering her to the ground hard enough to knock it from her lungs and lips. He undid his trousers with practiced hands, stepping out of the thin, time-worn clothing and grinning when he caught sight of her eyes fixed on his proud-standing cock, shivering as he saw desire and-yes, even fear-flash in them.

"Do you like what you see?" He asked, eyes hooded as he sucked on his bottom lip, his fingers itching to rip off the rest of her scrapped fabric.

He hadn't anticipated her to smirk and raise herself on her elbows. "Certainly, it's impressive. I've still seen bigger."

Blood pounded in his ears as the rest of his body stiffened in front of her, trying to detect the lie in her words and at the same time not caring whether she was telling the truth or not-it'd worked. Incensed, he dropped almost immediately to his knees and ripped what remained of her underthings off, tossing them onto the fire to serve as extra kindling. She wouldn't be needing them any time soon, or ever if he had his way.

"You seek to anger me, Natalia?" He demanded, kissing his way up her thighs, biting at the soft, supple flesh as he got closer to her sex. He could already smell the arousal dampening the red curls between her legs, the combination of smell and sight setting his blood burning. In due time, he promised himself, grinning as he heard her keen with wanting when he intentionally avoided the heat between her legs, licking at the crease of her hip bones, nipping at the bottom of her rib, and taking each breast into his mouth as the head of his cock pressed right up against her core. She tried to wrap her legs around his waist once more, to coax him into her, but he caught her by the inner thigh and repositioned them so that they were instead slung over his shoulders, nearly bending her in two. Her eyes grew wide at that, her mouth parting as she tried to suck in enough air to ensure her mind was working properly.

"What was that," he slowly inched the head of his cock in and Norns he wanted to take her right then and there. "About bigger?"

"L-oh-."

"Yes?" He asked, pulling away. It was killing him near as much as it was her, though the thrill of her back arching and her pupils blowing wide was at least entertaining to watch. He tightened his grip on her ankles all the more as he lined the head of his cock back up with her entrance, giving her an inch or so before pulling back out. She whined. Her nails scratched at the ground, ripping up grass and dirt and her hair was a mess of flames behind her head. Her hips bucked up towards his, desperate to try and get closer. He pulled back. She dug her heels into his shoulder blades and he twisted his head to the side to bite on the tender skin of her left calf. She whined, arched again.

"Beg me."

"Loki-."

"Yes?" He drew out the final sound, more of a snake's hiss than a word, but she ate it up, shivering beneath his grip even as her teeth clenched together.

"Fuck me. Get inside me, dammit all. If you really are a god-."

One of his hands came down on the back of her thigh, making her shriek. The noise echoed through the small clearing they'd taken to, cut only by the crackling of the ever growing fire. "I am." He said with eyes narrowed. "I'm telling you that you. Must. Beg me. Or you'll not get another inch-."

"Loki. Please my lord," her voice broke. "Please. I'm begging you. I need you inside of me. My king." She was laying it on thick now, but he loved it. He shuddered from the attention, the ideas that her words were giving him. Natalia on her knees beneath him, atop him, underneath him. His hand carded in her hair and he tugged her upwards to crash his lips onto hers, nearly folding her into two as he shoved into her in one swift shove. Her lips opened in a wordless gasp for breath, and he watched as her eyes near rolled back into her head as he bottomed out inside her. She was so warm and tight and perfect around him, as though she'd been made for him, as though she'd had none other but him. The idea spurned him on further, waiting until she took a shuddering breath to pull out of her then slowly push himself back inside. Ahh, much better.

"You may say you've seen bigger but I will ruin every," he thrust back into her. Hard. "Other. Man. For you." He punctuated every word with another thrust, her breasts bouncing with the movement. Her back arched and she screamed as her hips rocked up into his. She tightened her legs around his shoulders, and he couldn't think of a better place to be than between her thighs.

For all his centuries of practice, all his experience, he felt himself nearing his end embarrassingly fast. No. He would not let it finish so quickly, not when she was still moaning and wanton and spread out beneath him like his own personal bedmate. One of his hands snaked between her legs and rubbed her clit, jerking his hips upwards so that he hit the back of her sweet cunt. Her shrieks turned to groans as her cheeks went red, and he watched as her chest began to rise and fall faster.

"Natalia, I want you to come for me," he growled, his teeth gritting hard as he fought off his own swiftly approaching orgasm. Not yet. Not yet, dammit.

"I c-I can't," she stuttered. "Just can't-Not, oh god-."

"Yes, Natalia, you. Can." He pressed harder on her clit. "Now come for me. Dammit Natalia, come for me."

Her back bowed again and he felt her tighten around him as her hands reached out and caught him by the arms on either side of her head, eyes blinking back furious tears. Her nails dug into his skin, and the pain was enough to drive him right over the edge. He came right afterwards, his hips pressed flush against hers as he emptied himself with another shout, vision going white around the edges as he watched her face contort with the pleasure. He hadn't felt so good in decades-centuries even, perhaps. His hips stuttered as he rode out the aftershocks of his climax, his come already dripping from between her legs before he even pulled out from her. Slowly, he situated her legs around his waist and pulled her into his arms as he laid down on his side, holding her tight to him. In the firelight their hair looked identical, the red tangling as he kissed her languidly, taking his time to memorize her mouth and the scent of her, the musk that came with coupling, as well as something that was far more familiar. Him. He grinned.

"Was that satisfactory?" He murmured in her ear.

She snorted something that sounded as though she couldn't believe he was even asking that, and soon after she fell asleep in his arms. He watched the flames until he did the same.

When he dreamed he was back on Asgard, the shining citadel filled to the brim with courtiers, well wishers from distant realms, each of them with a flagon of mead or Vanaheim's fine wine, and a bitter claim for his attention. Not that he could make an excuse to not give it to them, and so smiled politely, watching as their eyes rolled from his horns to his eyes. Ever unable to discern him from his differences, why would he expect different?

Freya was boring him, going on and on about how Sigyn was requesting her attention and aid in some stupid manner or so when his eyes caught something else. A flash of red, a lithe form taking a seat far down the table from him. Blue eyes, accentuated by the blue fabric of Asgardian creation wrapped around her small frame, her hair piled atop her head. Sif was trying for her attention, pawing at her bared shoulder, but Natalia's eyes never left Loki's. His lips spread into a full grin, even as he watched Sif get to her knees beside the woman to try and entice her attention, stroking the side of her face. Lovingly, even. He'd never seen the lady act in such a manner, though with Natalia he supposed many things were possible.

"My lord Loki, are you even listening to me?" Freya asked, running a hand through his hair, her nails playing on his scalp just the way he liked. Funny how she could never master it in the bedroom yet outside of it, with his attention diverted and unwilling to yield to anything else, she managed.

"Yes, of course I am," he assured her, the corner of Natalia's lips turning upwards as she watched him carry on hsi conversation, doing her very best to do the same. The color had begun to rise in her cheeks, though he very much doubted it was from something Sif had said. The others were courting her, seducing her, trying to get her to pay attention to them and Loki, truth-breaker and son of giants, was the only one she deemed worthy for it. The thought emboldened him, set him burning with desire for her, and he did everything in his power to keep from continuing on conversations. He was curt, kept his voice stiff when another mindless courtier would enter into his conversation so that they understood that he was not in the mood to speak, yet they kept going. Bastards. Would he never get a moment's rest from them?

Natalia, too, was bombarded with attention and affection, from able-bodied Thor, to Tyr, the pair of them boasting in loud, obnoxious tones of the kills they've made, the battles they'd fought in, or else to Frigga, who as queen was all too deserving of Natalia's undivided attention. She didn't give it, and only the lack of repercussion-mixed with her presence in the realm, of course-told Loki he was dreaming. None the less, it didn't stop him from enjoying the idea that he, alone, was the only one she deemed worthy of paying attention to. Thor went so far as to press his lips to hers, breaking eye contact between them for the briefest of moments, yet when she was released from the thunderer's grip there wasn't a stain of blush on her cheeks, and her gaze was challenging, if nothing else, as she stared back at Loki, daring him to do better.

Though he rose to make good on her challenge he got swept up in the commotion of the feast, for whatever reason they were celebrating, and he didn't catch sight of her until later. She was leaning back on the table, another maiden across her lap, nuzzling into Natalia's neck as though she were a cat who'd found a friend. Natalia's fingers were wrapped in the woman's red hair, causing Loki to start. He knew not who this was, knowing only Natalia to have such a vivid shade of hair.

Two sets of blue eyes met his when the woman on Natalia's lap turned out to be herself, and Loki's jealous rage disappeared as quickly as it had manifested. The woman seated reached out to take his hand and pull him closer, telling him there waS no better place to be-.

He woke up to Natalia sliding down atop him, her eyes fluttering in her ecstasy, one of her hands grasping her own breast. It was not yet sunup, the fire having reduced itself to embers as Natalia began to ride him as one might a valued, battle-versed steed: hard and without mercy. He shouted in surprise as she lifted herself up onto her haunches, then slammed herself back down, his cock filling her up just as it had before. It was perfect, and once more their coupling didn't last long. Loki was eager to prove his prowess this time, yet after Natalia had finished three times prior to his own one orgasm he wished her to have more. He promised her that he'd ruin every other man, and that was one promise he very much intended to keep. He spilled into her just as she was leaning down against him onto his chest, her breasts pillowing on his hardened chest as he wrapped her tightly and bit her neck until it purpled, a mark on her flesh for who he was, and who she belonged to.

When he woke once more the sun had filtered in past the tree line, and he rubbed his eyes to try and force himself to wake up. At least the sun was warm on his skin, contrasting with the cool grass beside him-.

He sat up in a fervor, his eyes wide as he looked around. The dress that Natalia had been wearing was gone, as was the pouch that had held all of her belongings. His heart plummeted, noticing that the fire had long gone out, leaving nothing but smoking cinders behind, no longer capable of feeding the fire and so left behind to blow away in the wind. Useless. He felt his terror at being alone choke him once more, felt his fingertips dig into the ground in his anguish and anger at her for leaving him. How dare she? Did she not understand that he needed her, as much as he needed to have her? It wasn't a matter of simply interest any longer, and as he forced himself to his feet he considered a plan to try and find her and keep her. For good.

"Oh. Morning to you, too."

The voice had him spinning, as Natalia flung the deer meat from the last night, along with a jug of water he hadn't even realized she'd had before, to where she'd set up the remains of his trousers, using them as a makeshift table to work on. With ease, she lit the fire once more, having gathered more wood to kindle the flames, and as she got to work making their breakfast he simply watched her.

"You know, for being a god you certainly are lazy," she murmured, almost half to herself if not for the way her attention flickered to him, and she grinned.

He crossed over to her and caught her around the arm, tugging her upwards so he could seize the back of her head and kiss her furiously. "Don't ever leave me," he growled, only when she pulled away to breathe. Her eyes were filled with tears as she struggled to regain her breath, as they had been the last night, and a single one passed down her cheek after she blinked rapidly, wiping it away furiously.

His chest expanded, and for a moment he wasn't certain he was even in his own body, looking out around the tops of the forest, where he'd been permitted and where he hadn't. Those boundaries disappeared. He grinned, and kissed Natalia again. There was something, it seemed, to be said about those with flames for hair and what happened when they were together.

A/N: For the amazing Alison, who wanted a Ginger!Nat and Loki fic, involving Myth!Loki. I did all that I could to make him seem less composed than usual MCU Loki, and I hope it came off well enough! Thanks for reading and I hope you liked it!

Unbeta'd. Big time. Sorry about that.