By the time they separated Natasha's mouth was red and swollen, her chest heaving as she looked up at Loki. The power that surged through her made her feel as though she were on cloud nine, and he hiked her up so she was sitting on the table, her legs wrapping around as he fitted himself between them, the proof of his own attraction to her power pressing hard against her center.

"I'm sorry," she breathed as he brought his lips down her jaw, biting her throat as she whispered: "God, Loki, I'm so sorry." One of her hands dug itself into the back of his jacket, knotting her fingers in it before he helped her pull it off. He let it fall to the floor, groaning as he bit her collar.

"I know. I know," he murmured against her skin, hips rubbing up against hers. She whimpered, feeling her skin practically shoot off sparks wherever he touched it, her teeth gnawing so hard on her bottom lip that she swore she'd draw blood. She could feel him grin against her skin as he snapped his hips against her, a moan cut from her throat. She thought she might burn up in his grip, lights searing her vision as she tipped her head back, hands finding the table behind her to prop herself up on as he snapped his fingers and their clothing disappeared between them. Without preparation he sank into her and she couldn't find oxygen to breathe, lungs aching, body aching, heart heavy as she stared up at the ceiling then into his eyes as he tipped her face forward. Shifted.

Breathe.

The world came back with a ringing crash in her ears, his lips forming her name, her moans bouncing around the room as he hold her tight by the back of the neck, his forehead pressed hard against hers, breath hot against her skin as he stared into her eyes. Connected. Thrusted himself into her like the knife that etched his name into her heart. Or was that the magic convulsing within her?

Was there a difference?

She gasped and shouted, cried and broke down in his arms as she came around him, leaning forward as the magic and orgasm crashed, became one and threatened to suffocate her under the wave that was the man in her arms. He pushed back, teasing the edges until she frayed and came apart again, and again, and again. He filled her perfectly, her heart, her body, her soul, and she begged him again and again for releases that never seemed to end.

Her body still thrummed with energy after he laid her down, the objects of the spell thrown to the side, her back arched on the cold wooden table, Loki's hips losing their rhythm as he slammed into her again and again, cock buried to the hilt, their hands intertwined so tight she was amazed nothing broke. Her right wrist burned, and one of the chairs set fire beside her as she lifted her hips from the table to accept his seed as it spilled into her, eyes screwed up in pleasure.

The burning stopped moments later but the fire raged on inside her, deep in the pit of her chest, humming with the subtle energy Loki exuded. She felt it creeping against her skin even as he pulled from her, felt it in the way he looked down at her with confused, hurt eyes. She met his gaze with confusion as well. Didn't he believe her when she said sorry?

It took some time for her to come down from her high, but the thrum of energy never stopped. Would it ever? Slowly she sat up and looked for the clothing that had been so quickly removed.

"Imagine yourself dressed," he murmured from where he was standing, already clothed. As if it were that easy. She did her best, thinking back to the first gown he'd complimented her on, deep green with an emerald and onyx chestplate that pressed her breasts up as well as protected her. Her breath caught just as she looked down to see it replicated on her, the fabric the softest of silks and the plate solid beneath her fingers. Her lips twisted to a grin as she looked up at Loki, whose eyes had softened at seeing her choice.

"That's amazing," she murmured, twirling just to make sure it didn't whirl away. She just couldn't believe that it'd actually worked.

Loki made a loud noise by slamming his hand on the table, and as it startled her she jumped, her clothing disappearing as though it'd never existed. Oh, that sucked. He summoned the clothes she'd been wearing before for her to dress quickly. "It requires great concentration to keep, or manifest in a way. Now, sit down so I might teach you. Please."

How could she sit, though, when it felt like she'd been given wings to fly? She breathed deep as best she could, sitting opposite where he was sitting after she dressed. Right. She could do this, even if she felt lighter and stronger than she ever had in her life. She'd never be weak again no matter who she was up against, never be forced to wait for others to come save her. She'd been strong enough to fight before, but now? She could attack-.

"Natasha you must listen to me," Loki insisted. His hand reached out to cup the side of her face and to her surprise she lashed out, striking his down. His eyes widened at the same moment she felt her heart stop. Oh, God.

"Loki I'm so sorry," she said quickly, standing and crossing over to reach out to him. He let her, though his eyes were somber as she took his hand and pressed her lips to his, seated on the table in front of him. "I'm so sorry."

"Magic affects us all differently in turn," Loki assured her, though his voice was quiet, unsure. She could feel his energy, tentative and uncertain as it was, as he sat in front of her, not sure what to anticipate. Apologies stumbled from her lips even as she leaned closer to press her lips to his.

"You seem to be apologizing a lot," he teased when she pulled away, though she could sense he was only half kidding. She frowned, reaching out to cradle his face and seating herself on his lap as she moved. Not that he was about to complain, she was sure.

"It doesn't mean I don't mean it," she assured him with a soft voice, trying to smile, to promise him it was alright. It had to be alright, didn't it? "Look, I'm listening now, I promise." She said with a smile, leaning back onto the table, holding out her wrist so they could both see. "Okay. So these three symbols. What do they mean?"

He eyed her for half a moment, then nodded and grasped her extended arm gently, lovingly. She smiled as she leaned in to kiss his cheek, the new magic apparently making her very affectionate, before her forehead pressed to his to watch his fingers trace them all one by one.

"This one," Loki murmured as he pointed to the crooked 'H,' "This one is hagalaz." Here he gave a chuckle. "It's fitting that you received this one. Now, we don't choose these runes, they're tied to our own being, to what we represent and therefore what we will become. What we can control or will learn how to. I have gotten mine," he showed her his collection on his wrist, pressing it alongside Natasha's exposed one, "After centuries of studying."

"They don't go away, do they?" Natasha asked, forcing herself to take a breather. Woah. Fear was not acceptable. He seemed to understand though and shook his head, an easy smile on his lips. "No, don't worry, they won't disappear. They're yours forever.:

Good.

"So. Hagalaz," she ran a finger over its outline with a grin, looking up at him and catching his eye. "H. What's it mean?"

"For starters, it means change, though generally change through destruction." He caught her eye and smirked. "You cling to your past and need to make a clean break through the abolition of your obsession with what happened. It's a sign of crisis, catastrophe-."

"Geez, thanks. You know how to make a girl feel special," she muttered.

"And the disruptive, chaotic powers of nature. It's a good sign," he assured her with a kiss to her cheek. She had to restrain herself from kissing him back.

"A powerful sign. Not all destruction is bad."

She thought back to her home, the chaos and pain left in the wake of the Asgardian's chaos, the agony of seeing her home destroyed. Why didn't she tear Asgard down to the last brick, massacre their homes, then see how good destruction was?

"Natasha, you're electrocuting me." Loki's quiet voice pulled her out of her mind, the man having let go of her arm. She murmured another apology. Whoops. He was right, she did apologize a lot. He tipped her head upwards when she looked down, her cheeks flush with embarrassment at how she kept letting the heat and insistency of the magic get the better of her.

"What about this one?" She asked, pointing to the upside down 'U,' though she frowned when he stiffened beneath her. Uh-oh. "What's wrong with this one?"

"Little is wrong. At the very worst it deals with brutality, inconsistency, and obsession, but at best it promotes tenacity, strength, physical healthy, determination, healing, and endurance."

She stilled. Then what was the problem?

"It is also the rune most associated with my brother," he added. Oh. Shit. She felt him grow cold beneath her, not just physically but emotionally detaching himself ever so slightly. His magic, too, seemed to simmer just beneath the surface. She clutched his hand and kissed the back of it.

"As you said, these chose me," she murmured. "Just because your brother and I share similar traits and I was chosen to use those . . . magic properties. It doesn't mean I prefer him to you." Despite what her personal orders were, though she kicked herself for being such a brat to Thor and taking her aggression out on him. At least Loki couldn't detect a lie in her voice, eyes widening with the truth of her statement.

"I'm not cross with you," he assured her. "Simply finding it ironic. The last one, though," here he grinned, his elation bleeding into her emotion. "Thurisaz. One of mine." He traced it with a slender finger, making her shiver. Oh, good. She was terrified his brother's rune would put him off. "The control over male sexuality, betrayal." His hand tightened slightly but she ran her palm over his, easing him to relax. He did. "Compulsion, but also strength, resistance, chaos-oh yes-self-enthusiasm. Just to name a few."

"Ah, all the fun ones," she teased, watching as she took his hands to move them back to her own, fingers threading. He felt good beneath her, his power once more joining with her own, leaving her cheeks flushed and her breath rasping. How was it he made her feel like this? "Will I always be this . . . turned on?" She asked, shifting so that her back was to his front, his mouth falling on her throat, kissing his way up it slowly. She shivered beneath him.

"Just while your energy is so strong and volatile," he assured her, bringing their conjoined hand forward. He held it there, whispering for her to feel the energy as it flowed around them. Through them. She felt it through her bloodstream, from the very tips of her fingers to her scalp, to every piece of her that connected with him. It almost tickled as it rippled over her skin and she bit her lip to stop herself from giggling at the feeling. She grinned as he instructed her to focus, to try and imagine it as a ball of energy in her hand. To try and grasp the energy without grabbing at it. It was hard work, and her brow furrowed as she tried to focus without straining too hard. It would come easier as she learned, he promised her, but she would have to work at it every day. Devote at least a few hours of her morning, afternoon, and evening to it. She nodded and said that she understood.

"Even without training you'll be able to feel it, control a portion of it, but it will be dangerous. It will take a lot out of you, and it will hurt those around you if you aren't careful. So you must be."

"Of course," she murmured as she tightened her hold on his hand. Eyes closing slowly, she tried envisioning it in her head first, tried to imagine what it would feel like as he said, smell like, and her heart soared a little as she felt something heavy fall into her hand. Her eyes snapped open just in time to see the red ball fizzle, its edges blurring, before it went out completely.

She whipped around to look at Loki, who smiled and nodded. That was her!

They practiced for another few hours until Natasha was able to summon a small ball of energy into her hand, Loki assuring her that everyone had troubles with it for the first few days when she'd explained how annoyed she was that they never seemed to last. The small quirk of his lips told her this wasn't entirely true.

"I bet you had it in an hour," she muttered, glowering as he laughed and shrugged.

"I'm born with it," he told her. "It's nothing to be ashamed of Natasha. You just need to work at it until it becomes second nature. You can do that, can't you?"

She could, and she would. He left to speak with his mother, and though Nat thought everything was back to normal she wasn't sure about it. He'd said he understood that she was sorry but . . . well, they'd not talked about it. He'd not accepted or denied her apology, not since telling her to try harder (and she had! She really had.) Frustration mounting, she stepped briskly towards the gardens. Ideally the fresh air would work, would help to clear her head, and the bright sun usually worked wonders on her mood. The garden was empty, and though she'd not been back there since the day the apples were handed out, she moved easily through the walkways, reaching her fingers out to grasp at the petals of the flowers as they passed. The energy that had once flowed around her and Loki's fingertips did the same there, and she smiled to feel it ease around her, dancing between her outstretched fingers and crawling up her wrists, almost as though it was joining with the runes that still decorated them. She breathed deep and bent down to take in the sweet scent of the flower, grinning as she pulled away and tried to imagine the same ball of energy as she'd been told to before.

But no. Nothing happened. Dammit all. She swore and strode further away, winding her way through the paths, arms crossed over her chest. Why wasn't it working for her the way she thought it ought to? Failure was not something Natasha was familiar with in any sort of way, nor was it something she particularly liked. If she was honest with herself it made her skin crawl and it was with great difficulty she managed to keep from rubbing her skin off as she kept on. Her feet brought her back to the tree with the golden apples, the fruit hanging tantalizingly in front of her face as she took her place beneath it. She wrapped her fingers around its shining flesh slowly, picking it with a crack she was sure would reverberate through the entire gardens.

"Excuse me, what're you doing here?"

She nearly dropped the apple in surprise, turning around to face a guard she didn't recognize. His armor was different, darker in color than her own, covering his shoulders first before trailing down into a yellow cape, the helm tall and glinting in the sun's light. She bit her lip and hid the apple behind her back, clutching tight to the flesh.

"I'm just walking around," Natasha said, forcing her chin higher and her voice to grow stronger in her defiance. What did it matter?

"No, what are you doing here before the tree? You aren't allowed to be here." The man's eyes narrowed and Nat felt her own anger rising. What business was it of his where she was and what she was doing?

"Again, I'm walking. Can't I be by the tree? I am an Aesir. Go talk to Prince Loki if you do not believe me." She said with a slight growl in her voice. The man stepped closer, reaching a hand out.

"I'll not bother the prince with petty theft. Give it back. You're not in need of another apple for another ten years."

Ten years? She swallowed hard and tightened her hand around the fruit. "Go away. Go talk to Loki if you don't trust me." She could only hope that he'd trust her enough to play along with it, but the guard didn't seem to care about her excuses. He advanced further, hand reaching the one that was hidden. Desperate, she aimed to shove him back, her palm connecting with his hard breastplate. He grabbed her arm and was about to say something else when there was a flash of light between the two of them.

Pain. Searing pain. The light blinded her, took the breath from her lungs, the ability to smell, to even think past the pain that spread through her body.

Her back hit something solid moments later, and her already empty lungs strained against the extra exertion. The sky was dark and cloudy above her, a direct contrast to the bright sun she'd been forced to squint in before. What the hell had happened? Where were they? The world tilted around her and she squeezed her eyes shut to try and keep from throwing up from the nausea rolling around in her gut. The sound of the world around her hit her with a whirl, the sound of rushing cars like the ones that had shot through St. Petersburg, the harsh winter wind whipping her long red hair into her face, the shouts of pedestrians as they asked her if she was alright. She opened her eyes to see a pair of hands on her shoulders, one touching her temple. Accents sharp. American.

How the hell had she gotten back? Her left hand clenched tight on the golden apple, still resolute and holding beneath her grip, before she put it out of sight as she sat up with a gasp of breath. Midgard. She looked around, not recognizing the bright lights or the faces that shone on them, or how so many of those near her were wearing such strange clothing. Pants and thin shirts despite the cold and piercings all over. She'd have been shot by Ivan if she'd done that.

"Where am I?" She managed to gasp, searching between the three Midgardians in front of her, ignoring how they stared curiously from one to the other, taking in her armor and out of date clothing. The guard was nowhere to be seen, but she couldn't concentrate on where he was at that point, couldn't have cared less. He shouldn't have pushed her, shouldn't have somehow activated her magic.

Oh hell, she couldn't concentrate on that right then, either.

"Manhattan. November third," the girl said, pushing her hair behind her ear, Natasha only then realizing it was dark blue in color.

"What's the year?" She asked, her stomach dropping as she tried to hold her shaking hands out of sight, tried to hide her fear as well as the apple. No one could get to that, not before Ivan-. Ivan.

"2010," this time one of the two boys said something, Nat struggling to keep herself from staring as she took in the make up that covered his eyes. She'd been gone for nearly seventy years. She'd made it back, but Ivan couldn't have survived. It was all she could do to not scream.


A/N: Not too pleased with how this turned out, but here it is kiddos. Now, I realize that there's a ton of information about the runes available, but the info I decided to go with is from this website: runestones RuneMeaning .htm as well as runesecrets
I apologize if it's blatantly wrong, but it's what I went with. Thanks so much for understanding, and I hope you liked the chapter! Sorry it took so long to update-for whatever the reason, FF wasn't letting me edit or format the story so I waited it out a bit.