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Natasha sat, legs stretched out, on the white sand beach, watching the waves envelop the shoreline. Her bottom half was soaked, but she didn’t care. It didn’t matter anyway. Endless blue skies met with endless blue water on the horizon and she wondered if she swam out, could she reach the end? Or would she just swim forever, never really moving from that one spot? Or would she reach the end simply because she wished it?
It was maddening, really. She wasn’t used to being in one place for too long and she itched to move on. To do something. Anything. The idea that she could create her own world and simply live in it for all eternity didn’t make it any better. She had no idea what she really wanted.
“You know,” a voice spoke behind her, “you don’t have to stay here. You could at least create something a bit more… exciting.”
Natasha rolled her eyes. She knew that was the case, she just didn’t know what to do with that information. Playing God didn’t come easy to her as it did to her uninvited guest.
“It's relaxing,” she lied. It was infuriating. “Is there something you need, Loki?”
He sat down beside her. Gone was his gilded armor and that ridiculous horned helmet he’d been wearing when he met her at the gates of… whereeverthefuck she was now. He was now dressed in simple garments, a forest green tunic, and slim, black trousers that looked loose and comfy.
“I need for nothing, my dear. Nor do you. Valhalla provides.”
“Yeah, that’s what everyone’s been telling me,” she grumbled. Odin had told her, then Heimdal, then Frigga. Didn’t make this any less jarring.
“Apparently we’ve had quite the influx of Midgardians since Thor declared himself the protector of your… delicate little realm a few years ago.”
“So, this isn’t Heaven?”
“Gods, no.”
“You’re gonna have to explain this to me then.”
Loki sighed exhaustedly as if he’d given this speech a thousand times. “It’s simple, really. Every religion has its version of Valhalla and Hel. If you are a warrior who dies in battle and you worship the Norse Gods or simply believe in Asgard, you will have the opportunity to choose between Valhalla, reincarnation, or the afterlife of your chosen Midgardian religion. Those who are worthy, anyway.”
She didn’t have a religion, but she did believe in Asgard. How could she not after fighting side by side with Thor and fighting against Loki. They were both clearly something beyond human.
Natasha hummed noncommittally in response to his explanation, letting it sink in.
“You haven’t asked me about your brother,” she tried for small talk. “He’s a mess by the way. He blamed this whole… Thanos thing on himself. I’m sure losing you didn’t help either.”
Loki deflated, “he needs this time to be a mess, as you put it. Our Mother has assured me that he will heal in his own time. Besides, I deserved death… and I deserved to die protecting Thor and our people.”
“You love him,” Natasha smirked, still not looking at him, “it’s sweet.”
“Someone once told me that love is for children.”
“Yeah, well—” her voice trailed off.
After a moment, Loki rose from his seated position. “Come, your beach bores me,” he implored her, holding out a hand to help her up.
Her eyes darted between his face and the proffered hand a few times before she finally took it and allowed him to pull her to her feet.
In the time it took her to blink, she was transported to what looked like a massive, golden throne room. When she looked up, there were ornate paintings of Thor, Loki, and their family.
“This was Asgard,” he intoned proudly.
Natasha looked around and whistled. “Odin wouldn't happen to be compensating for something, would he?”
Loki outright laughed. It wasn’t as terrifying and maniacal as she assumed it would be. It was happy, amused. “Oh, so much, Darling. He was horrible, to be quite honest with you.”
“Then why is he here?” Natasha asked. Usually, bad people went to the other place.
“He is an Allfather. That alone guarantees his passage to Valhalla.”
“Get outta jail free card,” Natasha mused.
“I’m sure I have no idea what you speak of.”
“Don’t even worry about it, Reindeer Games.”
Loki rolled his eyes but continued the tour. He took her through the entire palace, from the highest tower to Odin’s vault and the wine cellars, where he insisted she try the best wine she’d ever tasted. She didn’t bother considering the fact that it would have tasted however she wanted it to taste. That would have pissed her off all over again.
“Do we sleep?” She asked when they were in the gardens, laying in a bed of sweet-smelling, yellow, and pink flowers.
“We don’t need to, but if you wish to sleep, you may do so.”
Natasha closed her eyes and imagined the best bed she’d ever slept in, her guestroom in the Wakandan palace.
“What is this place?” Loki asked, sitting up.
“Wakanda.”
Loki glanced around the room. “And I thought Asgardians lacked subtlety.”
Natasha laughed and slapped his arm. When had they become so damn… chummy? How long had she even been here? The question was a moot point as she was sure the answer would only confuse or enrage her.
“Yeah, but they’re not overcompensating,” she countered and Loki only shrugged.
After a moment he said, “Come, I’ve something else to show you.”
She blinked and they were suddenly in the middle of some frozen wasteland. Nothing but ice and rock and icy ass rocks as far as the eye could see and wind so cold it felt like a million tiny daggers were stabbing her face.
“Ok, buzzkill, what the fuck is this place?”
“The realm where I was born, Jötunheim. A frozen Hel.”
“You’re not Asgardian?” She asked curiously while conjuring herself a big furry coat like the one she used to wear back in Russia.
“Not by birth, no. Odin, after his victory over the frost giants who dwell here, found me and took me in the hopes of fostering some kind of alliance in the future,” Loki explained coolly.
“Did it work?”
“Well, no, but that was mostly my fault.”
“Why?”
Loki looked forlornly at the ice-covered ground beneath his feet. “When I found out what I was, I foolishly lashed out.”
“I see,” Natasha replied, silently considering some furry boots to complete her ensemble. “Like you lashed out in New York.”
Loki’s head jerked up to glare at her. “New York was Thanos,” he sneered.
"What?" Then her eyes widened as she came to the realization. “Loki. He had control of your mind. Like with Clint.”
“Indeed. I am quite strong when it comes to hypnotism, mind control and such but,” he paused to look wistfully into the distance. “I was no match for the Mind Stone.”
“Jesus, Loki. We knew he sent you but we didn’t know he was controlling you. Why didn’t you tell us? Why didn’t you tell Thor?” she probed, trying not to sound angry.
“I tried the entire time to break free. It was as if I was watching myself commit all these heinous acts and I—I only broke through the control once during the battle and I tried to tell Thor, but the stone regained control within mere seconds,” he defended himself.
“And after?”
“He figured it out, I suppose. He asked me about it on the ship… before Thanos found us. It was nothing but pride that prevented me from telling him sooner,” Loki explained. “The God of Mischief, seduced by a rock,” he mocked, “It is humiliating.”
“I think it’s safe to say the Infinity Stones are more than your garden-variety rock,” she remarked. “Now, can you get us outta here now? I’m freezing my tits off.”
Loki smiled warmly. “Of course.”
They were back in the garden now, among the flowers. Loki seemed fond of this place. When Natasha looked down she found her coat had once again disappeared. Leaving her clad in a flowy, white dress. Comfy, she thought as she took a seat on the ground.
“Do you think they fixed it? The snap?” she asked randomly.
“Not sure,” Loki mused, a finger to his chin. “Though, the Valkyrie did come to collect her winged horse.”
“Her what?” Natasha laughed.
“I think winged horse was quite self-explanatory. I believe your ancient Greeks called them Pegasus,” he explained.
“She keeps a winged horse here for what? Emergencies?”
“In a manner of speaking, yes,” Loki shrugged.
“If they did reverse the snap,” Natasha probed, “could we find out?”
“You could ask Heimdall. He retains the gift of Sight, even here,” Loki suggested.
Maybe she would ask, eventually. The question was, could she handle hearing that they had failed and that she’d died for nothing? That they hadn’t brought the rest of the universe back?
“I’ll talk to him later,” she sighed.
“I’m sure you have nothing to fear,” Loki assured her. “The Avengers are strong… for Midgardians anyway.”
“You just couldn’t resist tacking that on, huh?” she chuckled.
Loki’s smile evolved into a snicker. Their laughter soon faded into a companionable silence. She laid down on the soil and stared up at the most perfect blue sky she’d ever seen. Loki was quiet and she could tell he was thinking about something. They remained in that state until…
She heard the voice of another man and it caused her to tear up instantly. That amused, slightly smug voice she would know anywhere. “Well this is a sight,” the man muttered.
When she sat up to look at him—to verify that she wasn’t just losing her mind—Loki was already regarding the man with a look of palpable shock.
No.
“Agent Romanoff,” Tony said fondly, “you miss me?”