Warning: this chapter is where we earn the M rating. If you don't care for that, I'll mark where it begins with a line break to signify the beginning and end.
The first rumble of the castle made Natasha's hair stand on end, her hand instinctively going for her gun, only to find it wasn't there. After Odin had explained the origin of the Aether that was flooding her veins, this strange power, she'd been taken up to one of the guest rooms where she'd been waited on as though she were visiting royalty, now dressed in a satin gown of deep, burnished gold-they seemed to really have a thing for it-and though there was a breastplate that kept her torso and upper chest protected she couldn't have felt more vulnerable in the swirling skirts and the flowing fabric, and she'd often done missions wearing little to nothing but a gun. That was just it, though, she supposed as she stood up from where she and Thor had been sitting. He went tense as well, and without question the pair of them made their way towards the source, finding the tall guards mustering closer to where the Allfather stood and directed them onwards.
"What is going on?" Thor asked, frowning as he caught Odin's gaze. Natasha looked over at the yellow cloaks moving down the hall, caught the curious gaze of the one, singular woman with them with eyes like ice that held Nat's own. Nat did the quickest scan she could manage, assessing the woman to likely be Sif that Thor had ranted and raved about for so long, and she offered the woman a small, knowing smile. She certainly looked as formidable as Thor had explained, and though the warrior goddess' expression never changed at least Natasha had a face to go with the name, and she was all about pinpointing those near her.
"Nothing. It's a simple skirmish," Odin assured his son, "But they could use your assitance. It would look good for the future king of Asgard."
Ah yes, the constant reminder. Natasha was well aware of Odin's tactics, and though she may not have cared for them-especially since similar reminders were always prompted her as she'd grown up-she had to admit they did have a decent success rate. Thor nodded, looking to Natasha.
"I can fight," she said quickly. "Even if you won't give my guns back, I have knowledge in how to use a sword and knives-."
"I'll take you my dear," a soft feminine voice came from behind the pair, making Nat open her mouth to protest until she caught sight of who it was talking. Tall, regal, her hair elegantly piled atop her head and a kind smile on her face but with plenty of knowledge behind her eyes. Frigga, the queen. There was no other explanation.
"Thank you mother," Thor said with an easy smile. "Frigga, queen of Asgard, meet Lady Natasha of Midgard."
Nat chanced a hasty curtsey, and went to turn to Thor only to see him already bounding away. The bastard.
"You be safe, too," Frigga said, her eyes meeting her husband's one good one. He smiled kindly at her and cupped the side of her face, but between them there was little to no passion. Commitment, yes, and a kindred spirit yes. But love, affection, adoration? It was devoid from both of their faces, and Natasha couldn't help but wonder if it'd always been that way, or if it was only after Loki's fall from grace that the pair had suffered such hardships. It wouldn't have helped, either, that Thor was often gone, and though Odin assured his queen that she needn't bother, kissing the back of her knuckles before releasing her, Nat could still see the worry pass through Frigga's eyes, if not for her husband then for her son.
Odin left soon after that, and Frigga smiled kindly at Natasha, her own gaze as discerning and intuitive as the same one Natasha had seen staring back at her from behind four inches of solid glass, from a man she once thought to be nothing more than smoke and mirrors and daddy issues.
"Not all arranged marriages end poorly, child," Frigga said quietly, leaning over to squeeze her shoulder. "But that is a talk for a different day. You said you know how to fight?"
"Yes madam," Nat gave a quick, curt nod, her posture straightening further as she prepared herself to take orders. Frigga noticed, and smiled, moving her hand to cup Natasha's cheek, before they walked off. From the passing warriors, Frigga grabbed two shorter swords, the guards noticing but saying nothing, and passed one to Natasha.
"Excellent. Then you follow me and do exactly as I ask. Understood?"
"Yes madam." Natasha echoed, her heart thudding as the queen led her through a part of the palace she'd never been to. The quarters they stopped in were enormous, spanning from a small resting area with a small , raised pond in the center, to a balcony overseeing the bifrost and the rainbow bridge, as well as the rest of the city. There was something that was making the water rise, and as Natasha caught sight of it, Frigga stiffened further.
"They're coming," she murmured, and turned once more to Natasha, studying her very intently. "My dear you have been told about the dark elves?" She asked, her voice very soft and very quick, laying the dagger that she'd stolen from the guard on the side of the pond, her hands moving in a hurried, complicated fashion. Natasha nodded, her heart jumping into her throat as she felt something just underneath the surface tugging, pulling at whatever it was making the water ripple. Her eyes widened.
"I'm pulling them closer," she said, her mind a whirl. What the hell was Frigga still doing there with her?! "You need to-."
"I'm not going anywhere," the queen assured her, her face drawn before she closed her eyes and the air next to Natasha rippled. In a small wave of yellow light a life-size copy of the redhead stood just beside her, making Natasha jump in surprise, while her copy simply looked over. Frigga frowned, brows pulled tight, as she pressed at a couple of the features she hadn't gotten quite right, tipping the fake Natasha's chin upwards and straightening her shoulders. "It's not quite got your strength to it, but they'll never know. Now, you promised me you would listen to me and do what I say." The queen couldn't have looked more stern, and yet understanding, as Natasha opened her mouth to protest but quickly shut it again. That she had.
"Yes, I did."
"Good, then you will wait for my word if I require your help. I should not think so, no offense my dear, but it is best for them to think me in grave danger," she said with the smallest flash of regret. "You will take care of them, won't you?"
Natasha didn't need her to clarify, the way the woman's face was set, the determination in every line on her face and in the strength in her words, well, she would have been lying if she said it didn't terrify her. Absolutely. She'd seen the look too many times, in comrades before they fell, in foes who realized she had the upper hand right before they bit into the cyanide capsule hidden in their mouth or uniform. Hell, she was sure she'd given the look when Clint had caught her, his arrow pointed right at her face.
"Won't you, Natasha?" Frigga asked, reaching out to take the woman's hand in hers and squeeze. Throat seizing up Natasha nodded.
"Good girl. Now, I need you to hide for me. I know you're not used to that, but they will try and find you, and if they find you they will rip the Aether from you. As I'm sure you know if they get a hold of that there is nothing any of us can do to stop them from destroying each realm one by one, so it is imperative that you do not let them near you." The queen leaned over to press her lips to Natasha's forehead, breathing in deep, and Nat reached out to clasp her shoulder in hand and hold onto her. She'd heard so many incredible, nearly impossible things about the strength of Asgardian women from Thor, about their resilience, and it was surreal to see such a woman really existed.
"Both of my sons have told me so much about you; I was glad to have met you." Frigga kept her voice quiet, her gaze going elsewhere, towards the door.
"Come down to Midgard sometime and we'll have tea when this is all over," Natasha said, her voice even despite the shaking of her heart, before she was pushed away, Frigga not saying a word about the suggestion. Nat understood, keeping her hope up for as long as she could as she skittered through the vast interconnected rooms, silent as could be. Behind her, in the space she'd just left, she could hear the door opening and soft voices. She eventually managed to find a cupboard large enough to fit inside, and though she was loathe to do such a cowardly act she hid herself away, slamming her eyes shut and praying that this worked. Frigga's plan had to work, didn't it?
With her eyes closed, however, she was privy to what her double was seeing, and watched as the queen slashed her blade out quick as a viper's strike, catching the tall, white-faced man in front of her. She bent and moved with the dagger as though it were a part of her very being, with an elegance Natasha had seen once before on a tall, dark-haired figure. It explained the difference in fighting techniques between Thor and Loki, that was certain, and for a sliver of a moment Natasha's hope rekindled. Again, the queen lashed out, this time catching the man in front of her by the throat, the blade pressed up against him as she bent him backwards over the pond, the look on her face that of a mother lion protecting her cubs. Her attention diverted, Frigga didn't notice the darkened figure appearing through the door, its enormous strides closing the gap between the two figures, and though Natasha's doppelganger tried to call out no sound was made. One of the beast's enormous hands clenched around Frigga's throat, pulling her backwards so that its thick arm could take its hand's place, Frigga's dagger ripped from her hand and tossed out and off the balcony, far from being able to help.
Where the hell was Thor?!
Now the tall man was coming towards Natasha, his black eyes seeping into her soul, hungry, demanding, called forth by a power he believed was there.
"Do not be afraid, child," he tried to soothe when Natasha pulled away from him, backing up until her back must've hit a wall, her eyes never leaving his, sure she was showing more fear than she had her whole life to this bastard. He reached a hand out for her right wrist, and the moment his fingers touched her her sight disappeared, leaving her in the black closet. There was a shout that even she could hear from the black-eyed man, and not willing to risk Frigga's safety any longer Nat made a break for it.
She arrived just in time to watch Frigga collapse onto the ground, her body shaking and convulsing as the tips of her fingers began to go ashy and darken, her eyes following suit as she gasped and stared up at the ceiling before she went completely and totally still. Not wanting to waste time Natasha ran to her side and searched her for a wound, for anything that she could put pressure on to stop bleeding or something, but there didn't seem to be one. She put her hands to Frigga's chest and started pumping, trying to keep her heart going, but found that it still beat, albeit faintly. Thor had disappeared onto the balcony, chasing after those who had done this to his mother, and Odin came quickly into the room. His spear nearly clattered to the ground before he ran to his wife, falling to his knees at her side and passing a hand over her face.
"Cursed, but still breathing," Odin said, voice gravely and his one good eye tearing up. He might not have loved her as he once did, perhaps he never had at all, but he did care about her, and Nat was glad to see it as he hoisted his wife into his arms and carried her off towards, where Nat presumed, was the same infirmary that she'd been taken to. Thor stood in the entrance of the balcony, watching his father disappear, his face drawn and eyes wide, disbelieving. Even from where Natasha stood she could see him shaking with a potent mix of fury and sorrow, so much so that when she rose to stand beside him, taking her hand in hers and pulling him into his arms he couldn't stop it.
"My mother-."
"She's alive. Your father took her to the infirmary," Natasha promised, stroking his hair and holding him tight to her, burying her face in his neck, murmuring to him that his mother would be fine. She hoped. She barely noticed that her own cheeks were wet until Thor pulled away to tip her chin up, wiping her tears away with his calloused thumb.
"Does she suffer?"
"It doesn't look like it. Her fingers have gone dark and her eyes grey," she swallowed hard, blinking furiously as she tried to make herself stop crying. She'd hardly known the woman, and yet she'd been willing to give her life to save Natasha. Another debt she doubted she could ever pay back.
'Yes, you can.'
She'd been charged to take care of Thor, and Loki now that Nat thought about it. Frigga had been careful to instruct her to look after both of her sons, and Thor looked as if he might shatter at any moment, break apart into a thousand pieces and never be put back together again. Slowly, one of Natasha's hands stretched upwards, caught in Thor's hair, and after pulling herself up to her toes she pressed her lips gently to Thor's, feeling him tense, and then release as though he'd just had his strings cut. His body molded against hers, one of his large hands coming out to catch the back of her head as he all but devoured her where she stood. Everyone dealt with stress and grief differently, Natasha supposed as Thor's trembling stopped and he pulled away from her a moment or two later.
"We should-."
"Yes. Let's go check on her," Natasha promised, kissing his cheek and heading out the door with him. She could be the steady one for him.
Frigga was stable, but just barely, the healers told Thor and Natasha when they stepped into the now filled infirmary. The queen had been taken to a private room to heal, while the beds that had once been pure white and free now were blood-covered and filled with the bodies of the Aesir who had been injured in the attack from the dark elves, which Thor had explained to Natasha on their way, her hand clasped tight in his all the while, fingers threaded with his larger ones. As they walked steadily down the rows upon rows of soldiers, Thor murmuring his condolensces or else grabbing a fellow warrior's hands as they passed to give him strength, Natasha saw the healers breaking stones into dust over the open wounds, watched as they healed, then turned to see a limp, pale body being lifted and removed from the room. How many more were being tended to elsewhere? How many more had died because of her, because she'd found the Aether and brought it to Asgard?
Her heart sank further in the pits of her chest than she thought it ever had before. Any thought or promise of wiping her ledger clean disappeared. She'd been a fool for thinking it might've ever been possible.
Odin sat beside Frigga's bed, one of her pale hands held loosely in his, his face stoic and lips set in a tight look when he saw Thor and Natasha enter. He might not have said anything about Nat's presence, but she knew he was thinking the same thing she had been not minutes ago. Neither of them said a word to one another, Natasha there simply to ensure that Frigga was still alive and to help Thor, who'd moved to the other side of his mother. Without prompt the healers explained that she'd been taken by a curse from Malekith, that instead of killing her outright he'd begun to suck the light from her, just as the books said the dark elves would do to the universe if they got a hold of the Aether. It made sense, Natasha thought, as she watched the black branches of the dark magic move slowly from the queen's fingertips to her wrist. If she was in Malekith's position she would have done the same: made those she disliked watched those they loved suffer, without hope of doing anything else. Let their pain fester until it consumed them, then when they were weak, crush them under his boot with the rest of the nine realms-.
She took a step back, gasping for a moment, the alien power within her raging. It wanted more, it wanted to consume, and she didn't trust herself near Frigga. Excusing herself softly, she disappeared out the door and leaned against the outside wall, tipping her head backwards and screwing up her eyes against another flood of tears. It was getting worse, stronger now as it bled into her subconsciousness, and she couldn't help but despair and wonder how much more she had to take. How much more could she take?
"Natasha?" The voice was soft from the other side of her, and she turned to see that Thor had followed her out. Hastily she gulped down air and forced herself to smile.
"I'm sorry-I didn't mean to make you leave. I can see myself back to my room." It was a lie, a poor one on top of that, and Thor's tight smile told her that he saw through it without problem. Damn. She'd tried. He stepped closer and pressed his lips to hers, kissing her gently. It wasn't passionate by any means, driven and fueled by his grief at the situation that had befallen his mother, and as Natasha brought her hands to either side of his face she tried to tell him she knew. She understood, and she would take care of him as best she could. They disconnected moments later, Thor taking her by the hand and leading her back towards his room. Every so often he'd catch sight of a broken pillar or two and wince, the shock of it running through his body, and each time Nat would squeeze his hand to reassure him it wasn't his fault. He hadn't brought the dark elves to them, hadn't intentionally sought them out and brought this upon his family and people. No. He was just another victim, and how many of those had she seen in her life?
The door had barely closed behind them before Thor's lips were on hers again, begging for her help, kissing her as though he might not draw breath if he didn't. One of his hands was cemented on her hips, the other cradling the back of her head to help tip it upwards so as to get a better angle, tongue licking into her mouth as she moaned and opened up for him, nails scratching up his armor. He murmured an apology before he pulled away and started to remove the armor he'd donned for the fight, and Nat couldn't help but watch in awe. It was a work of art, almost, how the metal worked together, the way it all attaches and yet comes apart with the lightest and quickest of movements from his experienced fingers. Curious how something so simple could be so protective. It isn't long before he's in a simple shift in front of her, and now it's Natasha's turn to hurry, trying to figure out how to work the damn dress they'd put her in, her fingers sliding on the metal bustier as she tried to find the connecting points.
"Allow me."
Thor was far closer than she expected but she stilled underneath him all the same, looking up at him as he turned his gaze downward to focus on undoing the clasps that kept her covered up before him. In no time he had it off her and set it to the side, the laces of her dress undone soon after so that it slipped down past her shoulders. His eyes were glazed over as he looked her over, and with one hand she tipped his chin back up so that their lips could collide again, her hand moving between them, feeling his chest vibrate as his moan filled her up. His arms wrapped around her to pull her up, off the ground, and laid her down onto the bed, Nat pulling him along with her, kissing him as if she could spirit their grief away.
His movements were slow as he reached to the side for a small vial of what looked like oil, pulling away from her to coat his fingers and cock before slipping two fingers slowly inside of her. She gave a quiet gasp, her back arching, hand finding his clean one to hold onto tightly as his thumb found her clit and she shuddered beneath him. There was a strange slowness to his actions, a pensive look pulling his brow down despite his cock already being hard and leaking, and Nat found she didn't have the heart to ask him to speed up. He needed this release, having kept it all bottled inside the whole while, the strong, silent future king. She reached a hand out to fist his cock, moving slowly, matching the same rhythm he used inside her, and in no time she found him pulling his hand out so she could guide him to press into her. She swore the same stars that she'd seen on her way into Asgard popped before her vision now, her body going through the motions as she wound her legs around his waist to pull him in further until he filled her completely, though a little too large to fit entirely inside her. She huffed, never having had that problem before, but Thor smiled and leaned down to kiss her furrowed brow before he slid back out, each inch of him rubbing her just the right way. Natasha keened, the sound soft and almost mournful, as he set a slow rhythm between them, eyes making contact and fingers intertwined. She watched his face change, his eyes cloud over as he tried to fuck his demons away, and as the night went on his speed increased, his head burying in her shoulder as he panted against her skin. She moaned and kissed at his throat and the side of his face, murmuring his name over and over, promising him it was all okay, everything was going to turn out alright, wishing the whole while she could muster some truth behind the words, could find some way of proving that they could get through this.
She came shortly before he did, seizing around his body, the build up having been slow but therapeutic as tears stung her eyes and her words were choked down by emotion. She hadn't felt this way in years, and yet to let go of it, wrapped tight in Thor's warm, strong embrace, well, it certainly beat going to a shrink. He followed right after, the tightness and welcoming warmth of her too much for him to handle in such a state, and she felt water trickle down her shoulder, felt his body quake beneath her hands. Slowly, she turned him over onto his back and slipped off of him, pressing her lips to his salted cheeks, his nose, forehead.
"You're alright, Thor. You're safe. You can let it out," she promised against the skin of his neck, nuzzling the soft skin there. He shuddered and held her tight once more, and though he never openly sobbed she watched the tension leave his body as the minutes passed, a strange resolution setting his face after they'd laid together for some time.
"I'm going to kill Malekith, and once he is dead his hold on mother will be broken, and his claim and desire for the Aether will be gone," Thor finally resolved some hours later, his fingers absently running through Natasha's soft hair. The sun was just setting over the Asgardian horizon, the reddened sky paying homage to the blood already spilled. "But to do that I will need my brother."
Natasha's body tensed in his hold, the fingers that had absently been drawing lines over his tanned skin stopping on a dime. "You're certain?"
"By now the ways in and out of Asgard will be blocked. He, alone, will know how to track Malekith down. I will go to father first with my plan to seek out the Accursed bastard. If he refuses me, then I will seek help elsewhere." He paused, and leaned over to kiss her hair. "I am asking much of you to cooperate with him, but please, Natasha. He can help. He just needs the proper push."
Why did Nat feel as though she'd heard those words before? Still, she nodded her assent, and with few words between them they rose separately and dressed once more. There would be a funeral for the fallen warriors and citizens caught in the crossfire of the attack.
"He's going to betray us. He doesn't care for me, not since I foiled his plan," Natasha murmured, hardly daring to look up at Thor, not wanting to rain on his parade per se, but dammit it was her life on the line, too. They couldn't do much for Frigga or the world if they were both dead.
"He'll like Malekith all the less when I tell him what has happened to mother. He needn't know the extent of what happened, only that Malekith is the one who put her in such a state. His rage will consume him with a need for revenge; that is where he will be of best use to us." Thor gave a quiet sigh and shook his head before shouldering on the blue, soft cloak that she'd seen him in before. Her smile was tight as she stood on her toes to kiss his cheek. He really didn't get enough credit, thinking to use his brother in such a way. It perhaps wasn't the kindest, but tactically it made the most sense. She could only pray, or rather hope it didn't get them all killed.
A/N: Thank you so much for reading and for reviewing! You are all incredible!
Now yes, this fic WILL be Loki and Nat, but if you've ever read anything else of mine you'll know I have a really bad habit of making these three my OT3. Can't be helped, and there is a reason for it later on. Trust me?