It's finally done! It's only been like a freaking month… I am so horribly awful and I apologize profusely for the wait! I was having mad problems… but it's finally done! PLEASE NOTE that I have altered the very end of the previous chapter. It was mainly some dialogue I decided I hated and more than likely it will make no difference to anyone but me, but it is what it is.

So here it is, finally something not so horrible… something hopeful… some relief from all dem awful feels… before I bludgeon you with more feels...

And I suppose I should warn you, this chapter is mostly sex. In case you weren't already aware… ;) Enjoy ma lovelies...

For so long he had imagined this – her touch in a true and unadulterated form. Without fear. Without panic. Without a pane of glass between them. In all that time, it had been enough to cocoon her in his illusions, to find her embrace only for a moment before his end, to know her kiss only through a void of non-existence. It was enough. Until her arms looped around his neck. Until her touch set his every nerve on fire. Until he felt the subtle press, soft but insistent, of her lips to his.

Nothing could have prepared him for it. And nothing would ever compare.

He wanted this – with all of his heart. To have her. To keep her. To love her. But in so short a time he'd seen her suffer and starve and nearly die because of him. He'd seen her injured and violated when he should have protected her. He had seen her cry for him; mourning and grief he didn't deserve after he'd knowingly abandoned her. I promised you so much, darling. Promises he'd failed to keep. Why would you have me, after all of this? "After everything I've put you through," he began quietly. "Everything you've suffered at my expense-"

"After everything that's happened – we deserve tonight. For us."

His mind, in a second, compiled an enormity of implications. Us? In ordinary context, only some mundane method of cohesion. But it established an entity. Lives bound together by something much stronger than words. Us? Surely she hadn't meant it that way. "For us?" Her kiss left him breathless once more, drawing a long sigh from his chest – barely conscious relief.

"For us."

He stared at her, unblinking for longer that it should have been possible. She took him by the wrist, her lithe fingers gliding over flesh only recently healed as she drew him closer. Surely he was only dreaming? Surely I will wake up and find that I'm still alone in a cell. "Are you sure?" he asked breathlessly, searching her eyes for the panic that had forced his restraint for so long.

"Yes." She pressed his hand into the crook of her neck, sighing, shivering where his cool palm met the warm skin of her throat. Still aided by her hold, his fingers followed the curve of her collarbone, trailing slowly across the part of her chest that her shirt had always exposed. But then he moved further, her grip still insistent and urging when his hand met the towel still clinging to her curves. His thumb traced the edge, the soft fibers folding under his fingertip, though he stilled when he came to the small tuck in the fabric, the point where it folded into itself and ultimately protected her naked form. Naomi's hand was still clamped around his wrist, her knuckles whitening, her eyes pleading the longer she watched him. Waited for him.

Surely I'm only dreaming.

His finger slid between the fabric and her skin, pulling just slightly until the towel finally unfurled and pooled on the floor around her feet. She shivered, her breath catching somewhere in her chest when the cool air met her bare skin. But she didn't shy away. She pressed closer and her cheek met his in an almost-kiss to the root of his jaw. Loki felt her sigh, felt her relish that simple contact, while his mind was still too far drowned. It almost escaped his notice when her hands slipped under his shirt. "Can I see you?"

Her voice was barely there, whispered against his cheek, a query dotted with kisses across his temple. He parted with her only a moment to lift the tunic over his head, but her hands wasted little time in their return. He'd always been long and lean with a build neither Asgardian nor Jotun. But she admired him all the same. Her fingertips ghosted over the subtle tone. And she smiled in her not so subtle perusal.

Her hair, still slightly damp, tickled his stomach while her lips trailed across his chest, warming the skin everywhere she touched. She found tiny scars, little reminders he had long forgotten about, while she worked her way up again. She briefly lingered against his collarbone before nipping at his jaw. Then her hands suddenly dragged him to where she could capture his lips again. And she tugged desperately, entangling her tongue with his and pulling the very breath from his lungs. He was bracing her hips, feeling almost dizzy, lost in the way she clung to him.

In spite of her size and her slight frame, her weight had him stumbling when she pressed closer. When the back of his legs hit the edge of his bed, meeting the mattress with only a shadow of his usual grace, she straddled his lap. And all the while, they never parted, their lips still caught in a dire embrace. But the need for air abruptly took precedence. She leaned away only slightly, her grip moving to his shoulders, both breathing hotly into the space between them.

"Wow," he sighed, his mind still reeling, spinning. Loki glanced up at her, admiring the flush in her cheeks, the way her chest heaved. Her tongue dabbed at her pink lips, savoring the taste and the slightest swell, before she opened her eyes. Their ordinary caramel brown color had darkened to near black and half-lidded they were stunning. But his gaze drifted, finally taking in her completely unclothed form. He had seen her before, but he was more than certain she barely recalled exposing herself as she had. She was beautiful now, healed and healthy. And his to admire.

"Touch me," she said, her breath finally steadying.

Loki smiled, glancing up at her again. "That hasn't gone so well for us in the past, darling," he joked quietly. For a moment his mind drifted back. It hadn't been real. For so long, it couldn't be real. And he had only imagined this: soft skin so forgiving beneath his loosening grip, goose bumps smoothing where his hands explored. Her back arched as one of his hands began tracing her spine, his fingers caressing every protruding notch. Massaging small circles, he reveled in the way she responded. Every touch forced a sharp inhale, breath repeatedly broken.

He leaned forward, lips brushing her neck and remembering all the times he had tried in the past. And he waited for it – for the fear that would steal her away. Her heart was pounding as it had before the panic overtook her, but she sighed with pleasure, her mind still with him. He felt the blood rush beneath his touch. It was a tiny throb at the crook of her neck that faded as he moved down to her shoulder and her collarbone. He peppered her chest with kisses, but he slowed moving lower. He just barely brushed his lips to the peak of her breast when he heard her gasp, heard her whine – a sound so completely sublime. And her reaction even more so, with her neck arched, her teeth digging into her bottom lip and her eyes pinched shut. So wonderfully affected by such subtle sensations.

Pulling her flush against him, Loki half turned and laid her among the sheets and furs. And lingering over her, he could do little more than admire at first. Her mildly paled skin in the low light. Her auburn hair against dark green sheets. And her curves, her hourglass figure, stilled his every wandering thought. Beautiful. She smiled, her gaze drifting elsewhere when a nervous flush warmed her cheeks. But he held her chin, held her eyes, and then he kissed her. Wordless reassurance. And a privilege he thought he'd never know.

Beginning with her neck, his hand traveled over her shoulder and down the arm he'd healed, before he twined their fingers together. Loki brought her hand to his lips, their stares meeting again as he kissed her knuckles. He caught her other wandering hand before joining them above her head and he was more than careful not to restrain her, seeing her eyes widen at the state of vulnerability he imposed. He arranged her hands carefully among the folds in the sheets and her mess of curly hair, noting with a second glance the way they fisted, clutching nervously at the fabric. "Naomi? You're all right?" For a moment she was quiet, her eyes unfocused, her mind elsewhere. His hand had settled on her shoulder, a touch he questioned in that moment until she leaned into it, breath catching but then steadying again. "You're all right, love?" Finally she nodded with her prior eagerness returned. And then he continued.

Watching him with eyes blown wide, his fingertips learned every inch of her. His hands worked over her every contour, following the curve of her breast, down the slope of her belly and around her hips in a mind numbing once over. And then he began again at her chest. It was a soft plane of unmarred flesh, more beautiful now than he had ever imagined it through his doppelganger's eyes. His lips were gentle at first, before he marked her – just once to know that he could – to know she was his. So that she might know.

She tensed when he made his way over the curve of her breast. And this time his mouth covered the sensitive peak, his tongue flitting against it until he heard her gasp, felt her writhe, knew her hands knotted in her hair to keep from forcing him away. Or forcing him further. She was panting quietly when he finally moved lower, pecking the underside of her breast before the cool tip of his nose went to nuzzling her belly. His hands, on either side, traced her ribs. The healed breaks made themselves known to his touch, but in reaching a tender spot low on her side she squirmed to escape him with a sound he'd never known of her before. When she stopped, he brought his thumb over it again and she nearly snorted in a vain attempt to hide an adorable giggle. "Ticklish, darling?"

Naomi seemed pathetically worried by such a simple observation. Not that her worry was misplaced. Dropping his weight against her legs, he attacked, his fingers drumming across her side while she helplessly convulsed underneath him, rendered breathless with hysterical laughter. When he finally stopped, her eyes watered, diluting the menace in her stare. But regardless of the revenge she'd be more than likely plotting, he savored the ache in his cheeks, from a smile he hadn't worn in a long, long time.

Shifting onto his knees from where he'd been sitting between her legs, his hands resumed their course, following the pronounced bone of her hip, up her thigh to where her knee was bent. He lightly kissed the roughened skin and his hand ran the final length of her leg before he paused to run a finger over her toes. Head to toe, the whole of her, his.

His lips barely brushed hers, teasing her when he leaned over her again. Her back arched in an attempt to bring him closer, before she tensed, lips parted in waiting as his fingers traced tiny circles on her inner thigh. "You're all right, love?" She shook, every muscle pulled taught, awaiting that inevitable touch. "Tell me you want this." She gravitated toward his touch, but his caution was seeded so deep that it wasn't enough. He wouldn't harm her again. Never again. "I need to hear it." He kissed her cheek while his more intimate caress slowly disappeared.

"Loki." He kissed her and she breathed a tiny whine while his touch raked over and over the crest of her hip – close. But not close enough. "Loki, I want this," she rushed, kissing him anywhere she could reach. "I'm okay, I promise." Her next iteration was broken when his touch returned, and her breath turned harsh against his lips, her forehead scrunching tighter as he relieved the unsettling ache. His other hand was splayed into her hair, tangling among the tendrils as hers did. Surely this is only a dream.

But she was here. With white knuckles, she tugged at the sheet above her head while her hips twisted, her whole body beckoning him closer. His fingers were swirling runic symbols, gradually losing rhythm every time she whispered his name, a sigh of pleasure in the wake of his every touch. Surely. Surely he'd find himself alone the moment his mind caught up. "Loki – please."

She sighed, in either relief or disappointment, when his touch disappeared. But Loki gently nipped her jaw before he laid himself between her legs, adjusting her thighs over his shoulders. Her eyes were wide, more than likely mirroring his own. Nerves rattled him up and down, not visibly, but he felt his hands shake. His gaze lifted when her hand reached for his. A soft touch. Delicate fingers. Reassurance. Trust. She smiled and he saw the same weary anticipation heavy upon her too. "Please," she exhaled quietly.

He began with a kiss, something soft, something tender. Before he found what she needed and acquiesced to a wordless request. His silver tongue had her jerking and twisting until he braced her hips to the bed, an arm slung across her waist. Words half uttered passed her lips as her grip tightened and she tugged on his hair, but her taste, like a poison, left him numb. He could feel a pressure building, her muscles twitching, and her pulse pounding where he held her hand. She barely breathed, the sounds harsh when she did. So close. Her heels dug into his back. Her back arched from the bed. Almost. "Stop! Stop! Stop!"

Loki freed her, his head jerking up instantly. "Are you all right? Did I hurt you?" He sat up, her legs sliding off of his shoulders when he crawled over her again. Her face was flushed a furious red and she was barely supported by her shaking elbows. "Did I hurt you?" he asked again.

Naomi shook her head, before she looped her arms around his neck to sit herself up. "But I don't want it to end like this. Not like this," she said. Her eyes traveled over him, settling lower, and then her fingers met the edge of his trousers. He leaned into her touch, her name falling softly from his lips. She fought with the ties before his sei∂r swept the last of his clothes away. The last of so many obstacles removed. His hands shook when he lowered her to the mattress again. This can't possibly be real. Surely I'm dreaming. Surely.He angled his hips, subtly adjusting until he was poised at her center.

His mind whirled without his consent. His head fell to her shoulder, taking long drags of her subtle fragrance while his heart raced in his chest. He took a long calming breath, but it shook. He was completely and utterly terrified. But more than certain in the end they sought. After all you've done for me. I owe you everything – anything I can give you.Naomi. Her hands cradled his face, bringing his eyes to meet hers. "This is real?"

"Yes." She dragged him closer, lips softly melding with his and breathing a litany of reassurance against him. "Yes. Yes. Yes."

Loki took her hands, fighting to keep his grip loose. And he brought them just above her shoulders, steadying himself before he pushed forward. Their breath hitched between them, open mouths lingering just shy of contact. His eyes were shut so tight as he pressed in one painstaking inch at a time, his every thought screaming of restraint, savoring every second surrounded by her. And he didn't breathe until their hips met. This is real. This is real. Dreams made real. Horrors undone. And he reveled in it – this feeling of completeness. To be made whole. To know her inside and out. To be utterly one with her after all this time. His. Mine.

His hips slowly rocked, Naomi responding in turn. And he gave himself to her completely, reveling in the slick pressure, the warm friction that meant she was his. He moaned into her neck at the grip of her body, the taut muscles stretching around him as he quickened his gait. "Loki – Loki please." His name broke on her lips, words interspersed with small sounds – moans and whimpers that tugged at his heart. Her body bowed flush against his, her every curve conforming to his bare chest. Her inner muscles clenched, tightening rhythmically.

"Naomi." Her name fell from his lips over and over – a plea, a prayer. Loki was determined to see her through, possessed with an insatiable need to love her with everything he had, even at the expense of his will and sanity. "Please, darling." Muscles tightly coiled finally snapped and the air was rushing in and out of her lungs as she peaked. They shared a shattered cry as Loki finally let his control slip. He dropped to his elbows, eyes misting over, both of them lost in the onslaught of sensation when his hips made one last push that buried him so impossibly deep.

When he finally found the strength to open his eyes again, she was smiling, blissfully content, her face pleasantly flushed. My beautiful mortal. My beautiful Naomi. His to have and to keep – to love – no matter what. No matter what.

Naomi reached up with shaking hands, wiping the wetness from his cheeks – tears that had managed escape. "You're not supposed to cry," she said, her voice shredded with emotion, her own eyes wet.

Loki crowded her into the mattress, pressing closer to kiss her again, tugging slowly and lingering on even the tiniest caress. He collapsed beside her, keeping her close, maintaining their embrace. Mine. Mine to love. Mine to protect. Always. She curled into him, slowly drifting off and beckoning him to follow. And sleep came with ease this time. She was safe. And finally, as near to him as she could ever be.

...

When the night began, Loki assumed it would be short, but he found himself awake again only a few hours into the night. And he thanked the norns that it wasn't a dream. Naomi was there. Still there. She slept, now half covered with sheets, for the heavier furs had drifted to the foot of the bed. The paper-thin curtain surrounding the bed, previously parted and pulled to the posts, blurred the room around them, quieting the space to a beautiful silence. The only sound was Naomi, breathing softly beside him. But he still found himself wondering if this could possibly be real.

He touched her, barely his fingertips against the warm skin of her back, and it was true and treasured contact. Real as it would ever be. He connected the freckles dotting her shoulders, still learning, finding things he hadn't seen before. His finger followed the dip in her spine, where softly lit skin gave way to shadow. She shifted, only slightly, when his arm came over her side, brushing that ticklish spot. His hand mapped the new curves, felt the steady rise and fall of her chest and the way with which it's hypnotic rhythm forced his pulse to slow. Even in sleep, she called to him.

For centuries he'd existed in a fog – a confused existence – a place where he'd lived without purpose, but after all that time, she had emerged from the haze. Like something long forgotten was suddenly made clear to him. A feeling he'd ignored. An emotion he'd denied. Sentiment.

Once merely a fool's indulgence and now something he could never live without. Not without her. Not after everything that's happened.

More than a year ago, when he was tossed into a dungeon, he was content in his madness to spend the rest of his life caged and alone. It was easier. Simpler. But he could no longer imagine a day without her. He remembered what he had done. He remembered all that had led him here. He remembered injustice and torment – an unsettling need for revenge. But he remembered Naomi. And everything else fell silent. She was the answer, a balm to his every ache. And in spite of the judgments he had passed on himself, she weaseled her way into his heart. And he would do anything to keep her there. Forever.

No matter what it takes, no matter what I have to do, we will stay together.

And not even the almighty Allfather would keep them apart.

She stirred, adjusting under the covers before she turned onto her back, once more surrounding herself with his embrace. Her eyes blinked sleepily in the dark, her mind still lingering between awake and asleep. But she reached for him, her hand meeting his cheek, pulling him closer for a kiss. The knuckles of her other hand moved leisurely up and down his chest and for a moment he thought she had fallen asleep again, her lips momentarily stilling against his. But she half turned again, her leg wrapping around his slender waist, their hips meeting beneath the sheets. And she nestled closer, her brown eyes glistening up at him, consciousness clear in them now. "I love you, Loki."

In spite of his inherent cold, the whole of him warmed, something leeching out from his very core. Something he, in all of his long-lived years, could never explain. It was a connection, something intangible, something unseen. Stronger than sei∂r and solely theirs. Something he would fight to define for the rest of his life. But at its very heart, in its simplest form, it would hold them together to the very ends of his realm and hers.

"I love you, Naomi."

And there you have it! Dis chapter gave me happy feels… I hope you all enjoyed it. After this there will be one more full length chapter and I think an epilogue as well. And hopefully there will be no more acts of god preventing me from completing the rest of this in a timely fashion. Thanks so much for reading! And thank you so much for your patience! XOXOXO