As far as Loki was concerned, Thor could keep the damn throne. Whatever desire he'd had for it had vanished after the first day of it, finding it far too constricting and stifling as he heard appeal after appeal for assistance, and it wasn't that he wasn't able or happy to give it but by the Norns he longed for the freedom of being a second in line prince, of having little to no responsibilities, of the chaos that he'd been able to create. Now? Now he couldn't wait to get away from the duties and expectancies of being king, of being Odin.

It came with one or two perks, he supposed, one of them being that if he wanted to be wholly alone he could be. He'd taken advantage of it as soon as he had a spare moment, heading into the infirmary to check on Frigga. After he'd transferred Odin's remaining life force into her decaying body he'd watched as the sickness began to abate, and within hours she'd gotten back to breathing steadily, even giving a quiet groan of pain that evening. Loki hadn't known a noise to sound so sweet, and as he bid the other healers to leave so he could take a seat at her side, still wearing Odin's skin. He nearly wept when she opened her eyes.

"Odin?" She rasped, looking around at the empty infirmary. Once he was certain that all the others had gone his disguise shimmered and fell away, sitting before her in his own skin. She blinked rapidly, trying to sit up as her frown deepened.

"Loki, what happened?" She asked, coughing loudly, her throat dry.

He summoned a goblet of water and offered it to her. His heart ached to see her awake and better than he could've expected. Whole. Alive. He waited until she set the goblet down to start in on his explanation, quickly crafting up a lie, never having been very good with the truth. "He was mad with grief after he thought you had died and went to battle with Malekith-."

"Loki." Her gaze narrowed, always good at telling when he was lying. His words died in his throat, the well concocted story falling flat as he abandoned it and gave a quiet sigh, folding his hands in his lap and staring down at them, unwilling to bring himself to look at her.

"I killed him. My own death was feigned upon Svartalfaheim when I was assisting the lady Natasha and Thor in tracking Malekith down. That monster is also dead. Odin had plans to wait until the elves attacked Asgard once more, but Thor took the fight to them instead. He is currently on Midgard, regaining his strength from battling the dark elves' last member of the Akursed. I have ensured he is safe," he said quickly, knowing she would care more about her son's well being than whether they had won or not. She was a true mother. The queen kept her silence as he recounted the full story about the Aether choosing him, about Natasha's own resilience to it and how, even when the crisis grew to be too much for her she persisted.

About how, once Odin learned of Thor disobeying his direct orders, the Allfather had entertained the idea of simply unleashing the Bifrost upon Svartalfheim, whether or not the others were still on the realm. Loki had learned it from his adopted father's memories, hardly able to believe that such cruelty and malice lived in the heart of the old man. So much for the man who Loki grew up with claiming to love his family above all others.

And still Frigga said nothing, even when Loki had talked himself hoarse and she passed him the still mostly full goblet of water to wet his mouth. "I'm sorry. I did not intend on staying and ruling, not for long," he insisted, returning the drink to her. She didn't take it, and he faltered. Of course she wouldn't want it. He was the monster who'd killed her husband, had tried to kill Thor and enslave an entire planet. Who'd murdered both fathers he'd had, paternal and adopted. Without another word he stood and left the goblet on the table beside her bed, back stiffening.

"I will be away then. I suppose you ought to tell Thor what happened." He said, voice stiff. He'd never get to see Natasha again, he supposed, or anyone else, never cause more mostly harmless mayhem once Thor knew he lived. And Thanos would be after him the moment he heard of Loki's deception-.

Frigga's hand shot out to catch Loki by the wrist and tugged him into her arms, squeezing him as tight as she could until he was certain his chest might collapse from being squeezed so tight. Not that he could ever complain, and his eyes welled with tears. Dammit all he would not cry.

"You saved me," she said, voice muffled against his chest. "You gave Thor something to fight for, and you fought valiantly along with him. I only wish Odin could have been proud instead of blind. He was a fool, my son, but he would have been proud. " She promised him, clinging tighter. Norns. He swallowed thickly as he held fast to her, trying not to crush her in his grip, but he was simply so grateful to have her back with him, to hear her tell him that she was proud.

A few minutes later and she pulled away, giving him a serious look. "You cannot stay though, my love," she said, brow creasing. "Thor will know-you cannot stay as the Allfather. I'm sorry-."

He waved his hand, clearing his throat to try and even out his voice. "I do not want it. The throne. Thor, the great idiot, was right. It does not suit me." He said with a bitter laugh. He hated admitting when the oaf was right. "Odin will fall into the Sleep, from using far too much seidr to save you, and from then he will pass on. Will that be agreeable? None will know that I am alive, mother. None can know. I risk bringing harm to Asgard and you if they think I am possibly hiding here, if word ever does escape that I am alive."

Frigga nodded and squeezed his hand. "Very well. But don't you dare stay away for too long." She said, suddenly serious again. "I mean it, Loki. I will find you and force you to return to me."

He allowed himself to smile, brought his lips to the back of her hands. "You'll sick Heimdall on me, won't you?" He asked, a twinkle in his eye. She snorted and hit his arm gently.

"I'm still your mother," she said sternly.

"Of course, my queen," Loki said, and in another moment he took Odin's form once more. "Now, rest my darling. i will send the healers to continue caring for you."

Frigga smiled and kissed his cheek before he headed out. He couldn't help but smile, a weight lifting from his shoulders though he had to act far more exhausted than he'd felt in some time. He had to give the people what they needed, and Frigga would be just that.

Thor had come back two weeks after the attack on London, for good this time he assured the other Avengers, his spirits muted despite it being good news. His father had, it turned out, been able to assist in bringing Frigga back to life, but at the cost of his own. Though Thor had been offered the throne, he passed it up, and Frigga, along with the help of two other goddesses Natasha was unfamiliar with, had taken over the position as reigning monarch. A little feminine wisdom, Natasha thought, would do the place some good. Perhaps they might find peace as Thor sought to help defend Midgard.

He'd moved into the tower at Stark's request, and though she and Thor had taken to sleeping together every night, Natasha every so often needed some time to herself. As a spy she wasn't used to being with someone as often as Thor seemed to like, and though he was all too understanding of it, she just needed time to breathe on occasion.

The punching bag suffered because of it tonight, Natasha's fists pounding as quick as her heart. Her knuckles ached and her arms burned, but it was worth it for the quickness of breath, the heat in her cheeks, the sweat pouring down her face.

"Trouble sleeping?"

Her fist stopped on the target, her eyes widening with the realization and recognition of the voice. She bit her bottom lip, took a deep breath, and turned around. The bastard couldn't have looked any more smug, hands clasped behind him, green eyes slitted in pure pleasure, black hair slicked back away from his face as he stared at her.

"Did you miss me, Agent Romanov?"

She turned to glower at him. "You were dead," she deadpanned though her heart, if anything, sped up. "I saw it happen."

"Yet here I stand."

Yes, there the bastard stood, until her fist connected with his face and sent him stumbling backwards, groaning with surprise and pain. Natasha's hand burned and she wouldn't have been surprised if her hand would be bruised and swollen the next day. None of it mattered as she closed the gap between him and swallowed whatever he might've said, kissing him so hard she might as well tried to suck the soul from his body.

His hands were on her body moments later, hot and cold, tugging at the tank top until it ripped in two and fell to the floor, her sports bra following suit while her own fingers worked at the clasp of his armor, undoing the many buckles and pieces that had carefully been fitted together as quickly as she could. She'd gotten rather good at undoing the Asgardian's armor, and was grateful that it finally came in handy as she shoved his coat off of him and his black, leather tunic after it. He'd dropped her pants to the ground by the time she'd finished unlacing his, and without question she sank to her knees and smirked up at him, taking his already hard cock out and swallowing it down. It was worth it for the look of shock on his face, the way his eyes nearly popped from his skull before he groaned shamelessly and tipped his head back. One of his hands carded through her hair, taking a fistfull of her red curls as she bobbed her head quickly, swirling her tongue around the head, taking him entirely into her mouth until her nose brushed against the thatch of black curls at the base. She held him in her throat for a moment as her hands fondled his balls, delighting in the soft gasps and mewls of amazed pleasure as her throat tightened around him and she hummed in happiness, making Loki mutter in a slavic-based language, something about her mouth being heaven. Already wet between her thighs, she bobbed her head a couple more times before removing her mouth with a slick, filthy pop and leaned back to toss her sweatpants to the floor. The mat beneath her provided enough comfort as Loki lined up above her, hiking her legs up so that they bent at the knee over his shoulders, and all too soon slid into her. She groaned, head tipping and back arching as he filled her entirely, feeling her already wet core contract around him as he pulled out, as though she was trying to keep him inside her for eternity. It wouldn't have been a bad idea, she had to admit. As long as Thor was, Loki was thick, and she whimpered when he angled his hips downwards just far enough that the head of his cock brushed right against her g-spot. Nimble fingers pressed to her clit and rubbed furiously, bringing her to a first, stunning orgasm that had her crashing and tightening around him so quickly it was a miracle she didn't wake the others with how loud she'd started to scream.

They cycled through a plethora of positions, Loki allowing Natasha to ride him with his hands on her full breasts, massaging them and playing with her nipples as she swiveled her hips in time, before flipping her onto all fours and rutting into her until she screamed his name into the mat, begging him to go faster. Always he let her come, denying her nothing, though he took his sweet time with his own, slowing down only when he neared the brink and had to take a pause, take a breath and steady himself. He wetted two fingers and pressed them slowly into her asshole as he took her from behind, stretching her out there, even bringing his tongue to slick her up enough so he could press himself into her inch by inch. She swore she saw the Bifrost in front of her once more, her whole body numb with pleasure, and as he eased himself in, then down so he could turn her on her side, she felt him take one last, slow, shuddering breath of control before he let go. Every scream that was wrung from her already exhausted lungs echoed between them, and his teeth sank into her throat as he finally came once more after she did, whimpering as he filled her up, the warmth between her legs burning as though her body was trying to commemorate it.

Between gasped breaths and stolen, furiously quick kisses, they managed to say their own sort of goodbyes, Loki's in the form of one last mark on her inner thigh, Natasha's in the way she clawed his back and drew blood, hoping he'd let the marks scar as they did for few other men who could make her scream the way he did.

She smiled as she returned to her own room, Thor still passed out in his own and none the wiser. A small part of her felt guilty, and yet . . . She called to Jarvis to wipe the footage of the past few hours, the sun having started to rise over the horizon, repeating the override command that she'd swiped from Tony when she was still Natalie Rushman. Only after he'd confirmed it she asked him to pull up the latest cases, asking him to bring up anything strange and magical. Mischievous. She had a trickster to track down.

A/N: Well, that's all folks! I hope you enjoyed this crazy ride, I know I did! Thanks so much for reading and reviewing, you are all amazing, amazing people!