I wrote this concluding chapter months ago, but my entire writing folder disappeared from my laptop.

Perhaps you can imagine my rage. I finally found the time to rewrite it, and I also offer my humble apologies for making you wait for so long.

There's no excuse.

As for what Angrboda says about babies, it's all true even if they're cute and snuggly and stuff.

29 – The Key

Natasha hesitated at the end of the path, reluctant to take the final step into the Bronx. The days with Svaðilfari had been subtle, hushed – a stolen moment of peace. She felt an ache in her ribs, sharp as the time she had been shot in Buenos Aires. "Okay, Romanoff," she muttered. "Time to rescue Barton from the cat and find out what the hell is going on in Asgard."

The final paving stone of the path wobbled underfoot. She was used to it by this time, as well as the fuzzy feeling accompanying the change between worlds. Mind made up, Natasha stepped forward into velvet, icy darkness. Probably it was the middle of the night at the Botanical Gardens.

She pulled out her phone and tapped the screen, but it didn't work. "Dumb overgrown Chiclet. Really?" She had charged up the thing before she left and packed a battery booster since Alfheim (and Asgard, for that matter) had a serious lack of outlets. There was no reason not to be able to access the flashlight app. Ahead in the darkness a group of lights wavered. Natasha narrowed her eyes and saw they were moving in her direction at the rate of 18 mph. She twisted to duck behind a flowered hedge, but it was no longer there.

The room was empty – in fact, it wasn't a room at all. Natasha stood in some rock-lined cavern in the utter dark, facing an oncoming group of… candles? Since when did New York guards carry candles?

One quick look showed her there was no return to Alfheim. The way behind her was just as stark and black.

Knees bent, Natasha felt her body go into autopilot. Her widow's line was ready in her belt, prepared to wrap around an attacker's neck. She shook her boot so the blade in the left heel shot out. Natasha couldn't help grinning as her moves followed like a smooth succession of dominos. Alfheim was peace and magic, but she was born for this.

The points of light flashed, and she heard a smothered gasp. "You…"

It was the voice she never wanted to hear again. "What the fuck?" Rage like a scorpion's sting seared her throat as the useless phone slipped through her fingers. "What kind of stupid trick…"

Another light flared up to reveal the blue skin and coiled snakes of hair around his pale, strong neck. Loki stood in the passage, flanked by a garrison of Jotnar soldiers. "Drain every drop of my blood later if you must, but if you ever felt anything for me at all, come with me now."

Natasha strode forward, itching to punch his handsome face. "You don't have the right to look at me, let alone talk…"

"Angrboda is dying."

The second interruption made her freeze. "What?"

"She lies in childbirth, this very moment, and has grave need of my magic. And I need you to help her. Natasha," Loki added. "Natasha."

A woman lay above them in the dark tower, screaming with agony. "Oh, hell with it," Natasha swore. "Show me."


Loki had spent countless hours longing for his firebird to return, but none of his fantasies included a child-birthing bed. He and Natasha stood next to Boda's pale form as the queen twisted in pain, shouted, and doubled up again with some unknown rigors inside her.

"How often is she doing this?" Natasha snapped the question at one of the midwives.

"The times increase at a rapid pace." The midwife's red gaze flickered over Natasha's body with contempt. "Your Midgard knowledge has no bearing here in the royal birthing bed."

"Treat the agent with respect," Loki growled, "or I'll have your skull as goblet for my gløgg this very night."

"Fuck respect. Where are the damn scrolls?" Without looking at him, Natasha flung out one arm, reaching for the magic she knew he had stolen.

There was no time for his usual injured innocents, the flow of silver from his tongue. In silence Loki handed her an armful of parchment, and Natasha dumped them on the bed, right beside the pillows where Boda still writhed in pain. "Okay. I can see a flash here, and – oh, yes. This one." Quickly she selected a few rolls and held them up. "Give me your hand, Loki."

Their fingers intertwined, but the magic was gone. The situation was so desperate – his wife and children in the balance – for once in his life, Loki felt no desire or lust within him. "Come on," Natasha urged. "Find the threads of the…I don't know, seed or whatever it's called."

On the bed, Boda suddenly stopped in the middle of a howl and flopped back on the mattress. Her mouth still open, a long breath expelled with the rattle of a draugr slaughtered in the hunt. "No!" Loki shouted.

"No," Natasha echoed. "Angrboda, hang on. No no no. We are not doing this today. Not today." She leaned forward, framed Boda's face, and fastened her mouth to the Queen's. Before Loki could move, Natasha blew into Boda's lungs and pressed on her chest.

"What quackery is this?" The head midwife looked appalled. "Ignorant aliens do not have the right to touch the Queen…!"

"Make one move towards them and I'll carve each limb from your trunk while you watch." Loki waved at the group of horrified courtiers. "All of you, clear out and leave the queen to me."

"Majesty…"

"Now!" He felt his head would split open with the force of his fury.

Muttering, the midwife moved to the door. Dimly Loki heard it creak open. In front of him Angrboda was sliding through his fingers, and with her his children. And the throne.

"Natasha." The lilting voice brought him out of his stupor. Loki looked up and saw Amora, graceful and lovely as always, come into the room. She was followed by her bedmate, the other golden-haired Aesir. Sif. Apparently they had settled their quarrel.

None of it made any difference to him. "Get out," he spat. "My wife is dying, maybe dead." At his words, Sif's lip curled.

"She will certainly die if I do not help you." Amora ignored him and reached the other side of the bed. "However, if she does and takes the life in her womb with her, the force connecting the nine realms will expire. I will not let this happen. For some reason, your children hold the key to the force that holds the limbs of the sacred tree in place."

Loki didn't know what he said in return. Never had he experienced such anger, such hatred. Amora's face seemed to swim like a beautiful vision in front of his eyes, and he wanted to strike her. He knew he screamed curses and threats with no way of stopping himself.

"Just shut the fuck up."

Natasha's calm words made him stop. He panted as he looked at Angrboda in her arms, both of them bathed in firelight from the immense hearth. "What?"

She ignored him. "Amora, anything you can give me would be a big help. This asshole and I already tried our little magic party trick, and it didn't work. What now?"

"It will work, but you are doing it wrong. Like the Norns, you must plaee yourselves in the correct positions."

"Positions," Loki scoffed. "None of this makes any sense." He bit his tongue when Natasha plucked a knife from one sleeve and, with a lithe twist, held it to his neck.

"One more word, and your skull is going to be my beer glass at the bar tonight. We're going to do what Amora tells us to the letter, and the last thing I need is your lip. Got it?"

Her eyes were very direct, very steady. He had forgotten their green depths, clear as water in a Jotnar pool during the springs. "Yes, Firebird," he murmured. "Got it."

"Get behind her," Amora stated. "No, not her," she added as he slipped behind Natasha, so close the red curls brushed his chest. "Get on the bed and sit behind Angrboda so you support the queen. Natasha, on my mark you will straddle the queen's legs and face your lover, so Angrboda is between you."

Natasha caught his eye and jerked her neck at the bed. With a frown Loki crawled onto the rumpled furs and wedged himself between Boda's slumping form and the ornate marble of the headboard. Amora barked out a word, and Natasha joined him where he held the body of his wife.

Everything clicked into place when Natasha settled herself. The magic they had sought sparked, and Loki felt it caress the cheeks, the neck, the belly of the queen between them.

"Good." Amora pursed her lips and let out a breath. "Now I just need the correct words, but…"

"That's on me. Hold up the damn scrolls." Natasha waited as Amora thrust the bundle into her arms, and she nodded. "Oh, yes, it's on fire. Do you see it, Loki? It's so bright!"

The corresponding runes crawled like living coals on the page, hurting his eyes with the seidr. "I see it," he panted. "Give me your hand."

Instead she caught Boda's palm and held it up. He understood and pressed his thumb to the flesh so the queen's fingers were sandwiched between them. Did he imagine it, or was there a twitch of life?

"Tell her." Amora still stood by the bed. Next to her Sif waited. They were very alike, two golden Valkyries filled with strength and warlust.

"You are my center." Loki felt the words ripped from his heart as they passed through Boda to caress Natasha.

"Tell him," Amora directed. "Now, Natasha."

The fiery little warrior mumbled something, but he knew – yes, he knew. He felt her fierce intelligence, the determined independence of the woman he loved. Between them, Angrboda stirred, and the movement made both of his hearts leap.

"It's working," Amora whispered. "Natasha, get ready."

"Oh, my God." Natasha shook her head. "Do I have to…"

"Stay while the queen gives birth?" Amora nodded. "I'm so sorry, but yes. You do."

Carefully Loki extended his touch so he lapped the wrists of his wife and his lover. "I'll stay as well," he vowed.


When he awoke in his own chamber, Loki blinked. For a moment he couldn't recall what had happened. Reality rushed over him like thawing ice, and he bellowed for an attendant.

"Majesty," the girl whispered as she appeared with his furs and the heavy links Jotnar rulers wore around their necks.

Loki ignored the clothes. "My wife," he demanded.

The attendant's expression cleared. "The queen sleeps. And, if I may say so, the children sleep as well. Three of them, Majesty. Such a thing has never happened in Jotunheim before. The people wait for you to speak to them, and…"

Impatiently Loki waved her away and jumped up to dress himself. He strode to the hall, pushed away several courtiers who jumped up and gabbled congratulations, and went to the queen's chamber. "Out," he said as soon as he saw the midwife bent over the bed.

"Ah, it's my charming husband." Angrboda's whisper was a thread of her usual mockery.

Loki fell on the bed and clutched her heavy, comforting weight closely and burrowing into the warmth of her neck. "It's my prickly wife."

"Your hungry wife. Get me some food." She pushed him off with her fists and, when he had slid to the edge of the furs, her sharp heels at the small of his back. "Go on. Lots of cheese, and some of the biscuits I like, and wine."

"No wine." Amora entered the room carrying a bowl covered with a towel. "No biscuits either, although I suppose you may have bread and milk."

"Yuck. Swill."

Loki forgot to be amused. A terrible thought seared him, and he rounded on Amora. "Natasha. Has she gone? By the Norns, I'll kill the first guard who lets her return to her world without my permission."

Angrboda heaved up on the pillows, wincing. "Have you learned nothing? Your lover wants freedom more than anything else. You can offer her chains of gold and flame-gems, the crown itself if you wish, and she'll refuse them all just to come and go as she pleases."

He slumped on the edge of the bed and examined his nails. "You are harsh, Boda. But. Yes. In truth I – it is where I went wrong, right from the beginning. I stole the thing she valued most before we ever knew each other."

"Humph." Amora leaned against the wall and crossed her arms. "This is a confession I hardly expected from you."

The door opened again, and Loki felt as though his hearts would choke him. Was it Natasha coming to say goodbye? However, an unknown female appeared in the room: an Aesir with long, black hair. He frowned. Perhaps he knew her, although he really didn't care.

"Sif!" Amora darted forward. "What – did someone spill a bucket of ink on your head?"

Lady Sif lifted her chin. "Last night I promised the gods all the gold of my hair if they spared the queen's life. It appears they heard my prayer."

"You-" Amora sprang at her and pulled Sif close. The enchantress's hands ran down Sif's back. "So brave. I don't deserve you. And I - ooh. I like the black hair." She bit her lip and twisted a long strand around one knuckle.

Angrboda laughed. "Tumble each other in your furs, not in my room. I still wait for the cheese and ale you promised me."

"Bread and milk," Amora insisted. She stepped away from Sif and grinned. "I don't suppose anyone has remembered there are three new lives in this godforsaken tower?"

"Ugh. Babies. Which means lots and lots of drool, piss, and shit." Angrboda pulled a face. "Thank heavens we have wet-nurses, husband, or I might go mad."


Natasha found the room without much trouble. It called to her blood and bones, offering a way back to Asgard and, with a little help from Thor, to Manhattan and Liho. Under her touch the stones of the wall yielded their secret: a hidden passage between Jotunheim and the golden realm.

She found the lintel and pressed the carving of the dragon. With a harsh grating sound, the stones slid back to reveal the dark passage.

"It was how I first found you."

Of course he knew what she planned. Natasha turned to see Loki in full blue-and-fur of his Jotnar form, eyes red with passion. "I'm going whether you say so or not," she declared.

"Natasha." Loki held out a box. "This is for you. This box contains the scroll you held when you first came to me."

Composing her face to hide all traces of surprise, Natasha took the tiny casket. It was beautifully made, and the star on the top hid its opening. Carefully she slid back the sides to reveal the parchment within.

"I have added a few lines of runic script – something for you and me. Not for anyone else."

Natasha closed the box and held it in her fist. "What is this?"

"Freedom. You can travel here if you wish. Amora showed me her latest creation – a tree connecting all the realms. I've given you the key to travel between them, if you ever wish."

She didn't move. "All the realms?"

"Yes. Including…" His voice dropped. "Including Alfheim."

Tipping her head back, she watched him carefully. "I'm fucking Svaðilfari, just so you know. And I don't intend to stop."

The red eyes closed. "I know. You can use it to visit him."

"Is that what you want?"

His lips peeled back to reveal the white, even teeth as he grasped her arms and yanked her flush with his bare chest. "No, it is not what I want, as you know very well. I want you in my bed this night and every night, but I have learned… I have learned if I grasp a firebird, I will get burned. Better she comes to me of her own free will."

Her lips twitched, and something like relief gleamed in his eyes. "I liked the skiing," Natasha admitted.

Loki grinned, a depraved smile of lust. "I enjoyed that too, little bird."

She wasn't about to give in, not after all he had done to her. Still, Loki had offered a part of himself he probably never even knew existed. Natasha cupped his chin, pulled him down, and slotted her mouth to his. His lips parted and she felt the heady, intoxicating sweep of his tongue on hers. She allowed him a few moments of breathless, licking pleasure before she pushed him away. "You have a family to take care of," Natasha said. His face darkened, and she waved the box under his nose. "However, when the time is right I'll see if your runic spells do what you say they do."

"I was always a bright student when it came to inscriptions." His whisper, broken and filled with tears, rustled among her curls.

"Good." Natasha broke free and backed into the dark space. She was curious to see how the path worked. Loki, ringed with the stern stones like a portrait, raised one hand in farewell.

The spell was safe within her grasp inside the little box he had given her. Resolutely Natasha faced the darkness to begin the long trip back to another world.

End


Thanks again for your patience and for reading. As I've said before, you bring the magic.