Sorry for the long wait. It's a short chapter I managed to put out. There is smut, just as a warning, but it's not too graphic or gross or anything like that. I also don't write a lot of smut, so...I hope it's decent!

Natasha stepped out of the pile of silk splashed around her ankles, her eyes never leaving Loki's, her mouth curved in a smirk that was almost patronizing.

He didn't say a word. He always told her that he could never be surprised, that he held life's deck of cards in his palms, that his aura was constantly prescient. And now, she'd done the simplest of gestures: one loose knot, one languid twist of the fingers, and she was completely exposed to him. She reveled in this shock that emanated from him in heat waves; his eyes were as big as saucers, and, honestly, he had the facial expression of someone who had been slapped.

He raised an eyebrow then, his gaze traveling from her eyes, to her shoulders, to her breasts, her torso, all the way to her feet.

Then he made direct eye contact with her, and said, "What are you doing?"

Gesturing to her body, she said, "Offering to play Scrabble."

"You have some ulterior motive," he accused, still keeping his distance from her. "You're testing me."

"If you're this reluctant, then I guess Sif was wrong," Natasha said, and bent down to retrieve her robe. She tied it back on. "Leave."

"I am reluctant because I do not know why you are doing this, or what for. I cannot trust you. You've used your feminine wiles to trick me to do things I didn't want to, and I shall not be forsaken again!"

She was very quiet for a moment. Then she raised her head and said, "I shouldn't have done this. I just wanted to see what it'd feel like if you'd…just go." She turned her back on him, and motioned towards the door. She tapped her foot and waited for the sound of the door closing.

Instead, she felt a hand rest on her hip, and lips by her ear.

"You wanted to know what it would feel like if I…" Loki whispered into her ear, sliding his arm across her stomach so that the back of her was pressed into his chest. "If I…what, exactly, I don't believe you finished your sentence," he said, and delicately nipped her earlobe.

"Aren't you worried that I'll use my feminine wiles to trick you," she deadpanned.

He trailed kisses down her soft neck, his fingers tracing over her curvy hip simultaneously. She broke away from him, curtailing his action. He was momentarily confused, but then smiled as her fingers unclasped his cloak, which then thudded to the ground. She attacked the bindings of his shirt, almost ripping the fabric in the process. Once his shirt was off, she immediately went for his pants, almost as if this was some sort of marathon that she must win.

She was moving so fast that he barely had any time to savor anything; she pressed his naked body onto the bed, and curled her fingers around him. She then lifted her robe so she could straddle him in the best way possible, but he stopped this by grabbing her wrist.

"Oh, c'mon, what now," she panted, her eyes wild in the firelight.

He sat up then, and reached out towards her. He ran a hand down her chest, until he reached the ribbon which bound the robe, and undid it. He slid his hands over her shoulders, and slipped the garment off of her, so she was in the same state of dress as him.

He wrapped an arm around her back, and pulled her close to him, so that her breasts were pressed against his chest. His fingers trailed down her spine.

He kissed her then, softly, before whispering, "This is not a race."

She swallowed hard. He was looking at her like no man had before. And that this wasn't going to be some fast fuck where she'd barely look at the person, and where it'd only last about five minutes.

"I plan," he said, kissing her neck once more, "To make you scream."

"Then do it," she said, with gritted teeth, and slid a hand down his torso.

He grinned then, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes, and laid her down gently on the bed. He pressed an open kiss to her mouth, his tongue sliding against hers briefly. He kissed her collarbone, and then sucked the heated skin, his eyes darting up to gauge her reaction. Her face was impassive, her eyes skywards. His hand cupped her breast, and his thumb brushed over her nipple. He kissed her there, then, and slowly rolled his tongue around her nipple, satisfied with the way her breathing expedited. Her heart was utterly pounding.

He nibbled and kissed down her torso, noting the goosebumps that suddenly dotted her flesh. She shifted her hips, and lightly ran her fingernails over the sheets. He pressed an open kiss to her hipbone, and raised an eyebrow at her, wondering if she understood the harbinger.

He then pressed a kiss to her inner thigh.

He felt her hands dig into his hair, tugging him upwards so that she could see him clearer.

"What are you doing," Natasha said, her eyes still on the ceiling.

"What does it look like I'm doing," Loki smirked.

"You don't have to do that," she pointed out.

"You mean that no one's ever," he bent his head, "Done this to you before?" He kissed her thigh once more, his long fingers clasping her hips.

"No," she said, her voice suddenly shaky.

He kissed her closer to the designated spot, inhaling her scent.

He made sure her eyes were on his when he kissed her most sensitive region, his tongue swiping through delicate nerves. She moaned, and gripped his hair so hard, he felt that it'd tear right out of the roots. No matter. He felt heat rush through his system as well. This was the best satisfaction, and motivated by her enticing sounds, which gave him great pleasure, he set himself to work. He vacillated between languid motions and fast motions; making mental notes of the spots she enjoyed the most. There was one particular spot that he nibbled gently, causing her to emit a sound he hadn't known possible from her.

She was shaking, her hips grinding against him, almost involuntarily.

"Loki…" her fingers gripped the sheets so tightly, her knuckles were bleached white.

She said his name. At that moment, when he looked at her, her hair matted to her neck, a thin film of sweat coating her body, he wanted to feel her against him, he wanted to feel her grip his shoulders as she came around him, moaning his name like she had done before.

She gently cupped his cheek, her thumb trailing his cheekbone. "Now."

He pressed one more kiss to her nether region, and then stalked back over her, until his face was realigned with hers once more. Her eyes were half-closed. She gripped his face, and kissed him hard. He positioned himself between her legs. Never breaking from her mouth, he buried himself inside her, causing her to gasp.

She pressed him closer to her, so that she could feel all of him. He ran a hand down her back, feeling every individual vertebrae. She shuddered as his hips ground slowly into her at first, barely moving. She bit her lip, and met his eyes; his pupils were dilated. She dug her fingernails into his back, hard, and then gritted her teeth to prevent an all-out scream as he thrust into her with unprecedented fervor. He buried his face in her neck, and she held him there by looping a quivering hand into his hair.

She murmured his name, and he held her like a child who had just found their missing toy. Through the night, their breath ran short, and their legs were entangled. They rolled over more than once, and he moaned when a particularly sharp thrust caused her eyes to roll back into her head.

She then felt a familiar sensation, one that she hadn't felt in what seemed to be an eternity. Her muscles clenched him tighter than before. His hand found hers, his fingers squeezing hers tightly. His eyebrows were knit in concentration.

She came with a loud groan, and he finished seconds after her, gasping her name once (almost inaudibly) as he did so. He collapsed on top of her heaving body, trying to regain his breath. She stroked his hair gently, as he laid his head on her chest, wrapping his arms around her body. It was a bit backwards, he knew that. That she should be the one with her head on his chest. That he should be the one holding her. But the way she was running her fingers through his hair, and the way she was gently rubbing his back, was so soothing to him that he stayed in this position, his eyelids swaying shut.

"Something's amiss," she said, her eyes roaming the area. "The air reeks of misconduct."

"I feel it as well, my lady," he said, his hand gripping his prized dagger, carved out of a dragon's bone.

She ran a finger through the dull water of the basin. "Even the water's murky and tainted. Something evil has been through here."

"But we would've known."

"Or not. Some creatures carry intrinsic magic that even we cannot detect. However, these creatures are not to be taken with a light heart. Their moral compass has been cleaved."

"My lady, you do not think…"

"If so, then the nine realms are in grave, grave danger." She brushed a stray lock of golden hair behind her pointed ear.

The horses knickered then, and kicked up their front legs.

"Hjerte, love, calm down," she said, and patted her shaking horse, whose eyes were wide open.

"We should leave," he said, a wrinkle forming in between his eyebrows.

"We can always go hunting another time," she said.

"DUCK!" he suddenly yelled. She heeded his advice, and flattened herself to the ground, missing an arrow that had been shot through the air.

He grabbed her, and they flew behind a thick tree, his dagger thrust in front of them.

"I need my bow."

"It's far too dangerous-"

She was off and running. She wrenched her bow, which had been slung over her force, and strung an arrow from her quiver into it. She heard the familiar spring sound the bow made when an arrow had just been shot, and she deftly swept to the side, just in time.

Squinting one eye shut, she estimated the general direction, and shot her own arrow off towards it.

A sharp cry followed immediately after. Her bodyguard ran into the thicket then, with her on his heels.

They brushed through stinging trees, and thorny branches, before coming to the figure sprawled on the ground, an arrow sunken into its lung.

She kicked away a clump of moss, and strode towards the attacker, not bothering to lift her dress, which was trailing along the dirt floor.

The attacker had a mottled green face, with a crisp, scarlet grid carved into its bald forehead. Its eyes were blacker than night. Its skin was sunken, and its mouth revealed jagged, broken teeth the color of mildew and mud. Its fingers were claws. It rasped, its obscenely long nails digging into the ground.

She tugged its weapons away, and handed them to her bodyguard, in case the creature was planning on doing something surreptitious.

"Who are you," she said, narrowing her eyes at the foul being.

It cackled and gurgled, blood seeping down its chin. "Frey, queen of the Elves. We meet again," it laughed. "More fit to be a peasant, if you ask me-"

Frey's bodyguard suddenly loomed over the dying creature, his dagger pressed against its neck. "No one insults my lady, especially not filth like you. If you do not tell me where you hail from, I'll slit your throat."

The creature grinned. "You'll allll die. He…" It gasped, "No…no…no one can…defeat…Him." With a sigh, it collapsed to the ground, its eyes focused on nothing.

Frey's guardian said, "Wait, I think I see something." He flipped the monster over onto its stomach. There was a very proverbial emblem painted in white on the back of its head.

"Is that…no…" Frey knelt to the ground, her hand trembling above its head. "It cannot be…my eyes must deceive me."

He wrapped an arm around her shaking form.

For there was the Valknut, the interlocking three horns which was Odin's symbol.

Author's note: I know, I know, the chapter is miserably short. I've been obscenely busy lately, and I wanted to give you guys something. I did not want to go an entire month without updating like last time.

Anyways, I feel like a fucking asshole cause I tell myself I'll update, and then, well, shit happens, and I don't. My grades are faltering, which is difficult for me, because I'm generally a good student. And my anxiety, which I keep a secret from people, is kicking back up again, which is quite annoying. Although that's been a problem for years. Anxiety is that one person who's never invited, but comes to the party anyways.

Enough about me. Not meaning to damper any moods. That's just what's been transpiring. But I'm getting better, I think. And hopefully updates will be more regular.

I've just got to, calm down, and y'know, try to live life and stuff.

Thank you, everyone, for reading my story, and reviewing. You guys are the sweetest, and your undying support makes me smile. I'm getting a bit sentimental, but ah, fuck it.

My sincere thank yous to the following reviewers:

-DarlingDeathMachine

-Anon89

-Misslucky1818

-Sunnywynd

-TwiVamp-TrekkerVendetta

-Guest

-Natasha Rushman

-Joy

Hopefully I've got everyone!

Much love,

-soirblanche