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The library remained their favorite room in the house. Perfect lighting, floor pillows and soft blankets, built-in bookcases that stretched from floor to vaulted ceiling. Her books had arrived from Washington not long before, and they had been sorting and organizing. His growing collection fit nicely in with hers; she’d had to physically drag him out of more than one used bookstore in the French Quarter.
Loki fanned experimentally through the book in his hands, then held it up for her inspection.
“Top shelf,” she confirmed, “unless you want to read it.”
He returned to flipping pages. “It looks involved,” he said. “Are you sure you’re not going to need it for reference?”
“If I need that book for anything,” came the reply, “Stark can fire me right now. It’s from Biology 110, and don’t ask me why I still have it. Same goes for the one by your foot.”
Picking them both up, he put them carefully next to the large stack already on a middle shelf. “I think that will cover it, then. Ready?”
She laughed a little as he knelt and she climbed nimbly to his shoulders. “You know, I’m pretty sure there’s a ladder in here for a reason.”
“Fickle things, ladders,” he answered, pulling himself to his feet with one hand while steadying her with the other. “They shift. They break. They’d let you fall without a second thought, whereas I’ll do no such thing. Or at the very least, we’ll go down together.” They both glanced over as he nonchalantly shoved the rungs to the other end of the shelves. “Besides,” he went on with a grin. “It’s miles away.”
“‘Thou lift me, and I lift thee,’” she mused, taking the first book from his hand.
Loki laughed softly. “Norns, I can just see it. Me, perched carefully on your shoulders to see over the crowds,” he replied. “There’s a picture for your history books.”
She gave a sharp, not unpleasant tug to his hair. “Quit. You know what I mean.”
“Sorry,” he said, gently squeezing her shin as he gave her another volume with his free hand. “Old habit. It’s just that… after that dream the other night…” he shrugged without thinking, sending her a little off balance and nearly getting The Works of Josephus dropped on his head as a result. She recovered with a clumsy grace, and he caught the book on its way down and handed it back to her with a thoughtful look on his face. “I’m not used to this kind of vulnerability. It’s been ages since I’ve felt so clothed and so naked all at the same time, and I’m not overfond of it. I mean, usually it’s either one or very much the other. Never both at once.”
“They’re not mutually exclusive.”
“Maybe not to you,” he told her, handing off a botany textbook. “But our household was a little different, as you might recall. We were sons of a king; there were certain expectations. Emotional intimacy? Love? Absolutely not. There’s too much risk. Sentiment in any form is a dangerous thing for princes to cart around, not to mention the fact that it produces bastards at an alarming rate when left unchecked. But there were always other options. Dalliances at the feasts. Stolen moments in alcoves. A romp in the sheets, provided you're gone by morning. A tussle or two in the stables. All part of the game, and I played it well.” He twitched his lip. “And frequently.”
He felt her laugh. “Tumbles in the library? A quick grope between the stacks, as it were?”
“Absolutely not,” he replied, scandalized. “That’s holy ground, woman.” He picked up the next volume. “Although,” he went on slowly, “now that I think of it…”
“Uh oh.”
“Gods,” he breathed as the idea coalesced further. “The world tree. Can you imagine? Cradled below Vanaheim’s rings, the fires of Muspelheim bathing your skin as I make love with you by the light of a thousand stars?” He stood for a moment, thumb stroking absently across her shin and the book forgotten in his hand. “Gods, little one. It would be beyond perfect. Transcendent.”
“Well, I don’t know that I’ve ever been described that-”
“Shut up,” he said kindly, eyes blissfully closed. “Just shut up and let it happen.”
She laughed gently as she teased the book from his hand and tucked it into place.
The goofy smile was still on his face and they were halfway through the second group of books when the phone rang. Loki’s hand went automatically to his pocket before he realized the noise was coming from the laptop they’d left open in the corner. Not bothering to let her down, he worked his way over to the desk and silenced the music, then tapped the key to answer.
“Hello?” came a familiar voice through the speakers, and Loki glanced down.
“Captain Rogers,” he said. “Good to see you.”
Rogers craned his neck upward as though he were trying to look through a window, and Loki could only imagine the picture he saw. “Am I interrupting anything?”
“Just some redecorating, and occasionally hilarious bonding,” Aeslin piped up from his shoulders as Loki tilted back the screen to allow her to come in camera range. “What’s up?”
“I saw that you were logged in, and things are kind of quiet down here, so I thought I’d give you a call.” The feed jostled for a moment, and Rogers turned to someone off screen. There was a muffled voice, and then Rogers came back on. “Also Clint wants to know when we’re playing Pictionary again. He says… hold on, what?” He looked away, and the screen whirled briefly to show Clint’s face.
“I said I ain’t putting you and Rogers on the same team anymore because it’s ridiculous. Completely and utterly ridiculous to have you two being all artsy and fangirling at each other about colored pencils while we’re trying to play a game, but damn if I’m not stacking the deck and selling what comes out of it next time. Somebody’s got to pay rent around here, and that rose window was golden, woman.”
Aeslin laughed as she braced on Loki’s upturned hands and climbed down carefully from her perch on his shoulders. “I’ll grab drinks,” Loki told her with a grin. “This might be a while.”
He was back in moments; Aeslin was in the office chair but left it as he approached. Loki gave her half a grin and dropped into the chair, and she draped herself over his lap, legs over one arm of the seat. “When did that happen?” she asked, and Loki realized she was continuing a conversation he’d missed.
“About a month ago,” Rogers replied, running a hand through his hair. “He’s moved the whole operation down to DC, as far as I can tell; the building in New York just has a skeleton crew now. I think Stark offered to buy it, but I didn’t hear anything specific. Clint thinks we’re just going to let out space during tax season and call it a write-off, but really, I don’t think anyone knows what’s going on. As per usual.” He linked his hands behind his head and leaned back a little. “I can’t believe you sold your house less than two months before I was going to need it.”
“On your pay?” Aeslin chuckled. “You couldn’t afford my house, Steve.”
Clint’s head popped back into view. “Even with his senior discount?”
“Especially with his senior discount.”
“Anyway,” Steve said thoughtfully. “How does a kid like you just flat out buy a house like that, and in a neighborhood like that? I never understood it.”
She took a long swallow of her drink and thumped down the bottle with a slight grin. “It’s called settlement money,” she said, not even batting an eye. “Quite a lot of it, in fact.”
Rogers blinked, then Loki heard the legs of his chair hit the ground as he scrubbed a hand across his jaw with a sheepish look. “Well, I’m a jerk.”
A soft smile. “Only sometimes, but you’re one of the few people I know who can get away with it.”
He rolled his eyes at her, still a little embarrassed, and Loki could tell he was scrambling to change the subject.
“So,” Rogers said after a moment, “I met a guy.”
“Congratulations,” Loki told him.
Another brief, hushed consultation with Barton. “No,” Rogers said after a moment. “I mean, as Stark would say, thanks for the upvote, but I’m still pretty taken.” He leaned back again. “Great guy, though. He’s a therapist. Works for the VA helping people transition back from wartime. I’ve sat in on a couple of his meetings. He seems to be really good people; he’s already fitting right in around here. If you ever make it back out this way, I think you’d get along well.”
“Where’d you meet him?”
A shrug. “Out on a run.”
“Apparently,” broke in Clint, “he met him several times on a run. You should hear it from Sam’s side. Guy’s got a knack for stories; I shot beer out my nose. Twice.”
“And did you hit your target?” Aeslin asked with a giggle, clearly unable to help herself.
Clint grinned. “Every damn time.” His face grew serious. “Don’t stay away too long, kid,” he said after a moment. “We miss you out here. Getting stitched up just isn’t the same.”
“Pictionary,” she said. “This weekend. We’ll test drive the screens Tony’s been tweaking when he’s supposed to be at meetings. Make sure Nat knows.”
She was met with answering grins from both men. “Will do,” Steve said. “Take care of yourselves. Both of you.”
Loki smiled a little. “We will. Thank you, Captain.”
“You are allowed to call me Steve, you know.”
“And I will,” Loki answered with a shrug. “Eventually.”