Thor still slept two days after coming back. The venom had been pulled from his body, and his wounds had been tended to, and yet he still slept on without any sign of changing. Natasha hardly left his side, nor did Loki even though he was acting king in his brother's absence. He did whatever he could to try and heal Thor's injuries, spending hours looking after the elder, brushing his hair from his face and murmuring prayers, spells, whatever he seemed to be able to think of in his spare time. Yet Thor did not wake. Nat struggled to keep busy as well, keeping company and updating those who would come to visit-Steve, Tony, Sif and the Warriors Three, Frigga-and doing what she could to keep her mind from the possibility, even from the inevitability-.

No. She wouldn't allow herself to focus on that when her mind would wander down those dark pathways of thought, and oh, they came all too often. They'd all lost so much already, the Norns had ripped so much from her and from everyone else so far, they couldn't take much more.

Could they?

Her head snapped up from where she'd been dozing, the constant nightmare plaguing her that Thor had died when she was watching over him, that there was nothing she could do to stop it, stole her breath from her lungs until she was gasping. Loki's gaze caught hers from where he was working over his brother, rubbing different potions over his arms and wounds, hoping they would revitalize his body enough to wake it.

"Bad dreams again?" He murmured. They both suffered from them, and she was grateful, then more than ever, to have him at her side for all of this. She nodded, air finally making its way back to her brain so that she could try and regulate her heart's beating once more. Loki turned his gaze back to his brother, his pale, scarred hands working over the bronze skin with surprising gentleness. The scars were from fighting off Odin's two ravens, who'd attacked him the moment he'd stood up to Odin, distracting him quickly enough so that the Einherjar could bind his arms behind his back and gag him to silence his cries against what the Allfather had planned. Loki had explained that, upon realizing that there was little chance of Thor coming back unscathed from his time on Midgard he'd devised a plan to wipe out the Brotherhood, and his eldest, in the same fell blow, and Loki had refused to comply with it. The multitude of times spent attempting to contact with Natasha was Loki's way of trying to explain to her that she needed to get away, as Odin saw it as his chance to be rid of her, too. She'd long been a thorn in his side and so her demise would have been the proverbial icing on the cake.

He'd never anticipated Fenrir, an old friend of Loki's and a wolf shapechanger, to come to his friend's rescue, the trickster having summoned those who he could to stay within Asgard in secret. Trust never had been Loki's strongest suit, Nat had known, but she couldn't have been more grateful for it. Odin had branded Loki a traitor, and as soon as his cry went up Fenrir had attacked, slicing off the hand that had commanded the ravens to attack before fighting off the soldiers. Loki himself had finished off the Allfather he'd told her their first night back on Asgard, curled up in her embrace and sobbing into her arms. For the hell that Odin had put him through, for what he had planned, the death weighed heavily on Loki's shoulders and she could see it coming into play even now as he bent over his eldest brother, saw it drag his brow until she thought he might not smile again. Her heart ached for him even then, watching as he bowed his head and muttered under his breath, eyes closed and Thor's body glowing a faint green hue, the one she'd come to familiarize with Loki's magic.

"Is there hope for him?" She asked, voice quiet as she rose from her seat and poured a cup of wine for herself, and one for Loki.

He pursed his lips as he took it, straightening and surveying the almost peaceful figure beneath him, Thor's brow free of worry and pain, his lips quirked up almost as though he was smiling at a private joke that neither Loki or Natasha could ever hope to understand. She took one of his enormous hands in her free one, rubbing the back of it with her thumb, watching as the scars spanned up his arms and his side from where Jormungandr, the once enormous world serpent, had sunk his fangs into Thor's skin during their fight.

"It is difficult to say," Loki said at long last, having wet his lips and throat with the wine first. "The venom is deadly but I think I removed it in time. Now it's simply a question of whether or not the Norns will let him live, and if they attempt to call him to Valhalla whether or not he'll fight against it." Loki's mouth curled, almost against his will, and he swallowed his own private joke down with more wine, though Nat could only guess at what it meant. She couldn't imagine Thor giving up so easily, either. Certainly he'd fought for the right to rest, fought for his place in the great mead hall known as their heaven, but to leave them like this? To leave his brother and mother? To leave her?

She couldn't imagine anything less like Thor.

She pressed her lips to Thor's still bruised knuckles before setting his hand down at his side. "Do you wish to talk about-."

"I really do not." Loki pulled away from his brother's side, lips pursed tight as he set his goblet on the bedside table. He hardly looked at her.

"Loki it might do you some good to speak about what-."

"Natasha, let it rest," Loki finally spat, his patience wearing thinner than usual as he turned away. From the very corner of the room she watched Fenrir, who'd taken up guarding his new king, stand and follow after Loki as he swept from the room. Natasha deflated in his absence, collapsing back into her seat and tipping the goblet of wine back so far that it was a miracle she didn't choke by how quickly it filled her throat, the bite of it making her head swim and her eyes water. She was lucky to have him at all, she knew, from what had happened between he and Odin and the other guards, and she was grateful for his intelligence in keeping his friends and allies close, all too grateful that her husband had survived. But this man who kept her out? Who refused to speak with her when it was so obvious they were both in need of comfort? She didn't know him, she wasn't sure she wanted to if she was frank with herself, the wine making her bitter thoughts ever clearer. How were they to present a unified force against those who would still harm them, against Thanos, if he couldn't be honest with her or talk with her the way they once had?

Her eyes turned to Thor and once more she leaned forward to grab his hand, squeezing it, and brushing her cheek against his skin. For as much as Loki tried to deny it, as much as Natasha didn't want to admit that she needed anyone, his presence was sorely missed by the both of them, not only as their companion but in every sense of the word but they were better as three, rather than simply two.

Out of habit she brushed her hands against her cheeks, expecting them to be wet, only to find them dry. She'd cried so much the last couple days that it seemed she'd dried up completely.

The soft knock at the door had her sitting upright in no time, softening her face so that when Frigga entered she was able to smile kindly at her mother in law. "My queen," she murmured, dipping her head as she rose from her chair. Frigga shook her head and drew closer, kissing Nat on both cheeks before taking a seat.

"I wanted to see how he was doing is all, there's no need for formality," she promised Natasha with an easy going smile as she stroked her son's hair, summoning a small bowl of water with a cloth to wipe away the sweat that had been beading on his forehead. "There is no change in his state?"

"Unfortunately not," Natasha said with a soft sigh, trying to will her limbs to go lax, willing the wine to loosen her body. When was the last time she'd eaten? "I'm afraid, Frigga."

The queen's blue eyes, soft and sympathetic and everything Natasha had ever hated being shown, connected with her own. She didn't say something for a moment, which only made Natasha's heart leap into her throat as she tried not to think about what that would mean. Silence was rarely good, but from the queen, whom Natasha had thought might at least have some reassuring words, some story of when Odin or the boys had been in worse situations, said nothing? She felt, more than anything, that her fear was shared, and it only deepened the chill that pervaded her veins. Throat tightening, she closed her eyes tight and forced herself to breathe deep, to hold it for as long as she dared before releasing it once more to try and calm herself.

Neither said a word for some time, even as the servants came to bring more wine and food, which Natasha refused. She couldn't eat, opting instead to drink further, sure she wouldn't be able to stomach any actual substance. Frigga, too, picked away at what was offered her, her eyes flitting back and forth from Thor to Natasha.

"You love them both, do you not?" She murmured.

"I do, my queen," Natasha said without missing a beat. "I really do." How could she not? Thor had made Asgard feel as a home, and Loki had opened himself to her and allowed her to do the same.

"Then go be with Loki, my dear. I can take care of my son, but it is Loki who needs you now. Needs your attention wholly. It is attention that I cannot give him, and only yours that he craves right now," the queen said, her voice soft though the corners of her mouth were turned up in a sort of sad smile. Nat held her gaze for what felt like an eternity, trying to convey just how much it meant to her to have her there, that even in the midst of all this madness, the changes that had happened since Midgard had been-since they'd gotten back, since Odin had gone insane and tried to imprison the man he considered his son-that she still had Frigga on her side was more than she could've ever hoped for. And so she swallowed thickly and thanked her with a quiet voice, dipping her head and standing slowly to make her way out of the room, squeezing her queen's shoulder in passing before moving towards the small study she'd once trained with Loki. She hoped to find him there, certain that if there was anywhere he'd go to escape the truth of what was happening around him it would be there, and certain enough Fenrir was guarding just outside the room. He dipped his head in acknowledgement when she moved closer, allowing her entrance without question though he first waited for her to make a small incision in her palm to prove that she was, indeed, human. She could understand the paranoia and the small cut healed up quickly enough, Nat having been keen to start learning how to use her magic once more. Frigga had taught her as quickly as she could while Loki had ruled the kingdom, the two women having been looking forward to something, anything, to keep their mind off of reality.

He had his back to her, and didn't bother turning to face her when she entered, closing the door quietly before padding over towards him. He'd taken a place on one of the couches they'd brought in after getting tired of constantly fucking on the table as their time spent studying magic seemed to so often lead, and so without another word she sat down beside him and leaned over onto his shoulder. Half a minute passed, a full minute, then he wrapped his arm around her and allowed her to lean into him, turning his body so that she was lying on his chest and not his shoulder. They didn't speak, Natasha letting the thrum of Loki's heart fill her own with hope, grateful for the consistent beat and the familiarity of his body, and though she ached to have Thor in her arms or to be in his she could settle for this for the moment. She'd grieved as far as she could, but Frigga was right. Loki was missing his brother, was missing the man that had once been known as his father, and while she'd been on-when she'd been gone she hadn't been able to see him through the ordeal as she had through the first.

"I love you," she finally murmured, tipping her head up to look at him. His heart stuttered in his chest and she smiled to hear it, to find the confirmation of his affection, before he pressed his lips to hers in a soft, warm kiss, pulling her wholly into his arms. He filled her with his pain, his affection laced with the agony of being the survivor, the guilt of not having taken the same pains that his brother had welling up and spilling out of him and into her, a familiar poison to Natasha who'd experienced the same when she'd been taken from her own home and brought to live in Asgard. She'd gotten through it, though, and as she wrapped her arms around Loki, twisting so that she could lay down on her back and pull him atop her, she knew he would, too. They could make it through this, and when Thor woke up-because he had to, dammit all-they would all three work through this hardship. She knew it.

"I'm here for you, you know," she whispered against his lips when they pulled away for breath, her voice thick and hand coming up to cup the side of his face. "I love you."

His face split into a grin, too painful to find words for, and his responding kiss told her he knew, that he always had, and would always feel the same. It was all she could ask for from him and all she would ever want.

Two more days passed before Thor opened his eyes.

Natasha and Loki were in the middle of a meeting between a few mutants of both the Brotherhood and some of Xavier's, both of which had sustained losses and were now conflicting between what they wished to do to make plans for the future. There were few options, Nat was sorry to say, and most seemed to rest on which realm they preferred to live on: Vanaheim or Asgard being the more prevalent of options, though the former's technology was nothing like what they'd been used to. Were they all to stay on Asgard, though, there would need to be a specific amount of forest leveled to make way for the new housing, they would need to figure out the logistics of feeding all the new inhabitants when Asgard's storehouses were already growing sparse. It was a headache and a half, so when the messenger came running into the room Nat's heart fell into her stomach, expecting only more ill news.

"The king-the king has awakened." The man said, his eyes bright, panting between every other word as he looked to Loki and Natasha. Barely a moment later and both were on their feet, Natasha excusing them as Loki already raced out of the room, Nat soon hot on his heels.

Thor looked up when they entered, sitting back on his forearms, and the grin that he gave the pair of them was enough to cleave Natasha's heart in two, Loki lurching forward to take his brother's hand in his and Nat pressing her lips hard to his own, not caring that they were dry and chapped, only that he was warm beneath her and he responded without a second thought.

She had to pull back seconds later to afford him air, laughing so hard she started crying as she pressed her hands where Loki held onto his brother's. She felt lighter than she had in months, though she'd only been through the ringer for the last few weeks.

"How're you feeling?" She asked, though it felt like a stupid question the moment it'd come out her lips. He'd just woken up from a four day coma, how did she expect him to feel?

"Tired," he admitted. "But well. I know I ought not to waste my breath saying it but-"

"Then keep quiet," she half teased, bringing a smile and a laugh from both Thor and Loki that seemed too light, too fragile to survive in their world.

"But," Thor pressed. "Don't worry about me. Hard as it may be to believe, but I've had worse."

Loki actually snorted and Nat nearly lost it at how his face lit up to see his brother again, the heavy bags under his eyes looking miraculously smaller, as though he hadn't been waking every couple hours in a cold sweat, trembling. "Don't flatter yourself," he cut, though his words couldn't have held less venom. "You know the only reason you ever come out remotely unscathed, or even alive, is because I'm at your side."

Thor turned his hand to clasp Loki's tight, storm blue meeting tired green. "I know, and you've done it again."

Nat turned away to allow them both privacy, doing her very best to pull it together herself as she moved from Thor's side to pour him a goblet of water and press it into his other hand. He drained it in half an instant. Frigga's entrance not long after provided yet another distraction, and her eyes filled with tears the moment she caught sight of her boys One hand raised to cover her mouth and when Loki beckoned her forward, Thor sitting even further up, she broke down into joy filled sobs, hugging them both tight to her though they had to do the majority of the supporting.

"I'm fine, mother," Nat could hear Thor saying, his words muffled against her shoulder. "I promise."

"Promises, promises," she gasped, releasing him to look him in the face. "You're not fine until I say you are, which means you are going to go some time without fighting, my king."

"But-."

"No. You will listen to me."

He paused. "Yes mother."

Though she was loathe to leave Thor's side, Nat eventually excused herself, needing to return to the small council they'd called before, and unable to keep herself from grinning so wide her cheeks hurt. The others convened once more when she called them that evening, Xavier's face understanding when she pardoned her and Loki's sudden absence. Erik didn't seem so certain, his eyes watching Natasha's face as she took her place back at the head of the table, food and refreshments brought to them.

"So the king is alive and well?" Erik asked, sitting back in his seat, not touching his food. Wanda seemed to do the same, picking at the roast and looking up over at the empty seat where Nat imagined Pietro would've sat. The man had revealed wounds far greater than originally anticipated, and he'd not been able to pull through. The memory forced Natasha to take it back a notch. Tact, she had to remember, was far more important than her own happiness.

"Yes, thankfully," Natasha said, dipping her head as she took her seat and folded her hands in front of her. "He is on the mend, and if you would all like to wait until he is well enough to visit with you all himself I would understand."

Xavier shook his head. "You and he are in confidence, and I will take your word to stand for his as well. As long as that is agreeable, Erik?"

The white-haired man nodded, and there was a similar assent that passed around the table. The conversation picked up as though there hadn't been a break in it, Xavier certain that moving to Vanaheim would be preferable, at least until they could figure out a more permanent home for the displaced Midgardians, but Erik was adamant about staying. Natasha imagined that he wished to keep an eye on the royals, and she couldn't blame him at all for the paranoia. Like the rest of them he'd lost a home, lost family, Nat having found out that Pietro was his son and Wanda his daughter, lost friends most likely in the other mutants who were lost in the fight and the destruction of Midgard that followed. She looked around to Emma, to the woman named Jean Grey, Logan, Kitty, to Mystique and Anna Marie, wishing she could read their minds to tell what they thought was the best for them. Wishing she had better news for them, better options for them to choose from aside from staying where their conquerors lived, or on a new, unknown realm.

"Do we know who did this?" Wanda asked from the side, tipping her head up as she looked to Natasha, pushing the dark curls from her face.

"Aside from the skrull, who died upon the fracturing of the earth, no," Natasha admitted. "Though we're looking in to who it could be. Thor, Steve, and Sif's state as Berserkers were brought on by a staff, unearthed by an uncertain source. Sif and Steve have both confirmed that they were drawn to it," Nat said, having asked them soon after they'd gotten back and gotten rest. They'd needed all the information that they could get, and though there wasn't much they seemed to remember due to the trance (though it was enough to make Steve's face grow pale upon seeing Tony, and Sif to stiffen and her eyes to widen in horror,) the lead up until that moment seemed to be in crystal clarity. "From there we can only guess at who it could be. There is a man named Thanos. A titan, as far as I have been led to believe," Natasha barely hid a shudder at the memory of the way the man's hands had held her tight at her wedding, how his words and his voice had haunted her dreams and nightmares alike. "He hinted at himself being behind it."

"But we're not certain?" Xavier asked.

"No, there's been no solid confirmation." Natasha said with a soft sigh. "Only minor hints."

"And where do we go from there?" Jean asked, leaning forward, her hands folded in front of her with her brow knitted tight.

"I'm not going to force you to fight, if that is your question," Natasha said. "We'll raise a militia, but it will be comprised of Asgard's warriors and whoever else wishes to volunteer."

There was a snort that came from Logan, who was digging into the wooden table with one of his claws. His eyes met Nat's when she looked over and the corner of his mouth tilted upwards. "Those bastards just took my home. It might've been shitty, but it was home. You bet your ass I'll volunteer."

There was a hum of approval that went around, and Nat looked at them all in turn, gratefulness rising up within her. She couldn't have asked any more of them, and of course she could understand the need for revenge, especially when Wanda's bloodshot eyes met hers for half a second before she stood to leave. "I'll find permanent housing for those that wish to stay and fight, then. The normal humans will be given the same option, though if Asgard is to be used as a training ground then it will be suggested that they leave for Vanaheim. It would be safest. If Thanos, or whoever is behind this, discovers that Asgard is preparing to defend itself or even attack, then those who cannot defend themselves would be better off elsewhere."

They agreed to that, and Natasha left it at that, needing to confer with the Queen and with her husband and Thor, now that he was awake. She didn't imagine having an issue with it, and thanked them all for their time before those around her headed out. Only when the door had closed, each of them gone, did she fully relax, dipping her head over to rest it on the table, taking solace in the cool, wooden surface against her forehead.

Thor called Nat to his bedside one evening, after Loki had retired for the evening, Thor still on bedrest as his body struggled to manifest the same strength it had had before. Sif and Steve had similarly been weakened upon coming out of their berserker states, and Natasha could only assume that the extra fighting he'd put himself through to dispose of Jormungandr and the skrull had taken far more toll on his body. She sat beside him in bed, one of his arms wrapping around her arms as he positioned her against his chest.

"I have been considering what had happened on Midgard," he murmured. "What I did to you when I was not myself. Sif and Steve both tell me that they, too, remember the evening that you and Tony found us on Midgard, and I-."

She shook her head and pressed a finger to his lips, watching how his eyes crinkled in confusion. He still looked so tired, so worn, as though this weighed heavily on his conscious. She hoped to ease it. "It was not your fault. You were not to blame for what happened."

"It is dreadful, and quite frankly . . . You did not conceive?" He asked, looking confused.

Ah, this. Nat shook her head, turning her gaze down to where her hands rested on her lap now. After everything else had been taken care of, she'd pulled a healer aside to ask about it, to discover why her body hadn't been going through the same changes it had not too long ago. If she'd been with child before, and if Thor hadn't taken the necessary precautions as they once had when they were consensually coupling, it was expected of her body to have conceived. Yet, her belly remained flat, her womb empty. She took a deep breath. "They said I am unable. That without more magical assistance I will not be able to have them. The damage inflicted from the last time I was with child was far too great, and wasn't cared for in time for it to repair itself correctly," she said, finally chancing a glance up to him. She wasn't too certain what to expect, if she was honest, but guilt? Guilt was not one of the emotions she thought he would hold. She reached up to cup his face.

"This isn't your fault."

"If I'd been there to help you before-if I'd not been caught up in what my father had asked me to, so eager to please him and prove to him that I was still the best warrior of Asgard, if I wasn't so eager to prove to you-."

"Thor," she soothed. "Enough. You are not to blame for this anymore than Loki is. This is how the world works, and if the Norns have decided that I am not to have children at this moment, well, then I am not about to argue with it." She offered him a small smile. "Besides, I would not want to bring a child up in this environment, not without some semblance of certainty of what will happen. This way I can be mother to all, not focus my attention and affection on one. I think that's needed far more than another mouth to feed."

He was silent as he considered her words, but leaned forward shortly after to press his lips firmly to hers. "You are wise, my dear," he said quietly. "Loki and I are lucky to share your affection, let alone deserve it."

"Yes, you are," she said with a playful smile, resting her head on his chest. He didn't contest it.

As Thor regained his strength, as he began to assume the duties promised to him since birth with Loki at his side, Natasha could see the realm begin to heal itself as well. Soon as he could stand he and Loki made the rounds on those who were still injured, suffering from lost limbs, or even the psychological aftereffects of the war, offering each of them their thanks, condolences, and offers to assist in whichever ways they might be able to. Bruce Banner was among the Asgardian healers, Tony with them and another woman named Jane, and Thor clasped them each on the back to thank them for their service not only to Asgard, but to him and in fighting against the skrull. He was determined to make amends for what had happened, what he'd done but also what he'd brought along with his incursion on Midgard, and those who he talked to were receptive as he acknowledged their sacrifices. Nat smiled to see the both of them coming into themselves, rising to the roles they were expected to fulfil since they were children, Nat more than happy to take a step back away from all the attention. The realms needed a united, kingly and brotherly front, and now that the two were united, their bonds stronger than ever, she could only help the message would resound through the realms. They have have taken a blow, Midgard may have fallen, and they might have been licking their wounds, but they would rise once more she knew. They had to.

A/N: Well, end part two. I hope you enjoyed this beast-It was quite literally a labor of love, and while I'm sad to see the end of this part I am excited for the second part. It will be called "Speak of Grace" and while I'm not certain when it'll be up, I hope you'll keep up with the third, and final, installment of this.

Thank you all so much for the comments, for the support, everything. They're all incredible, and I appreciate every single one. You're the best I could've ever asked for. Thanks again!