28Within My World
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Warnings: Dark, explicit themes and violence
Pairing: Loki/Maria
The first time he saw her, it was a mere glancing look as he strode with Barton towards the blacked out vehicle known as a SUV.
She was a classic specimen of her kind. Weak, pathetic, docile as Barton muttered something about needing the vehicle when they passed her. Passably attractive, he supposed, with her lean physique, olive skin and quick brown eyes.
He dismissed her from his mind as he lowered himself into the bed of the truck, holding his sceptre in readiness. These mortals were dull, predictable, but he would be thrice damned if he wasn't prepared for every eventuality.
And he was right to be so.
As he heard Fury's voice over the radio communications device, his head snapped to watch her, as Barton pulled his gun from his holster.
Her speed impressed him. As soon as Barton had let off a shot, she had dropped into a roll and gained cover, drawing her own weapon to retaliate.
He watched her as Barton drove away, her gun raised, furious dark eyes watching him escape, slender form splayed like a hunting cat.
She was stubborn, he would give her that, and fearless. Where other mortals might have feared to pursue, she did so without concern, her determination and quick reflexes impressing him anew.
As the tunnel collapsed around them, he refrained from using the power of the sceptre. He stayed his hand.
As he watched her, jaw clenched in determination, eyes blazing with controlled, icy fury, he smiled.
Perhaps this little mortal might be worth pursuing, if only for the qualities she was displaying.
She might be useful to him.
As he saw the ceiling of the tunnel collapse on top of her SUV, he sent out a wave of his magic, cushioning her from the worst of the rock fall, smiling in satisfaction as they escaped the destruction.
Oh, yes, she was alive and he decided their next meeting would be very different indeed.
He learned her name from Barton. Maria Hill.
Agent Maria Hill of SHIELD.
Fury's right-hand woman, and an accomplished spy and warrior in her own right. Nothing to rival the so-called Avengers but worthy of his attention. He despised weak women, and Maria Hill was certainly not weak, if Barton's intelligence was accurate.
He would enjoy breaking her to his will slowly. He would not use the sceptre, oh no…her conversion would be long, and pleasurable to them both, and when he ruled the Earth, she would be among his most prized and loyal servants.
Loki knew well how thin the lines between anger, hate and lust could be, the need for control, the need to be controlled. In that, she would be no different from her race, except he would allow her a little autonomy. It would be far more fun that way.
The former Prince's lips quirked, as he settled down in his little corner of the underground tunnels Barton had secured, closed his eyes and called on his power.
The blue crystal embedded in his sceptre glowed, as Loki's magic sought out the mind of a mortal woman, far away and unconscious of the danger she was now in.
He found her, lying curled up like a cat in an uncomfortable looking chair, in a corner of the SHIELD helicarrier. Her long hair, a shade of ebony only slightly lighter than his own, was escaping from her strict, regulation bun, her lithe body coiled up and in on itself.
She looked exhausted.
The dark shadows under her closed eyes and the paleness lurking under her olive skin, making her look drawn and unwell.
He would change that. Or rather, he would change the reason for that.
With a smile, Loki gently but firmly, pushed his way into her mind.
Maria stirred fitfully, her mind instinctively sensing something was wrong.
She possessed no…superhuman powers, she was just good at her job. It was her job to know when something was wrong.
Like in that garage, beneath the compound, just before Barton turned on her. She had realised it, a split second before she heard the director's voice over the radio, and heard Barton go for his gun.
A part of her wishing she didn't have to wake up, not after the two days she'd had, she forced her eyes open.
And struggled to hold in her gasp.
No longer was she in the SHIELD helicarrier, curled up in that awful chair, but lying on a bed, in an ornate room she dimly remembered from a mission years before, when she had just joined SHIELD and been granted field operative status.
"I must say that SHIELD possesses impeccable taste when it chooses locations for reconnaissance missions," a smooth, unfamiliar voice murmured seductively somewhere to the right of her.
Maria's head snapped in the direction of the voice, and found it. And she felt fear flood her body, even as she ensured it did not show on her face.
Loki.
He smiled, a wide, wolfish smile that only made the unease in her body flare up, every instinct in her body telling her to fight.
"I see you remember me," he drawled, pushing away from his perch by the doorframe.
"You made quite an impression," Maria replied cautiously. "Literally."
He just chuckled as he approached her, and she tensed, ready to strike. He laughed when he saw her battle-ready body, tautening before his eyes. Oh yes, he had picked well with her. A real challenge, and an even sweeter victory at its culmination.
But she did not strike. Not yet.
"Where am I?" she demanded coolly, with hauteur to match his own.
"I would have thought that obvious, woman," he replied, equally as cool. "Or are you truly as dull as the rest of your pathetic race?"
"In the hotel room where I stayed during my first assignment for SHIELD when I was given field clearance," Maria didn't dare look away from the man stalking towards her, with all the grace of a hunting cat.
Gone was his armoured riding coat and boots. The sceptre was nowhere to be seen. Instead, he wore Earth attire, black trousers and a dark green shirt, far too tight and fitted for Maria's sanity.
She felt him smirk, but her own grew as she remembered the flaw. "But I also know that during that assignment, the hotel was destroyed by some rogue elements I had been tasked to hunt down. So I cannot be here…"
"Go on," Loki replied, gesturing imperiously for her to continue. Maria eyed him narrowly, disliking his attitude but unable and unsure what to do. The situation was out of her control for now, and she needed to gather as much intel as she could, in order to assess the situation.
"Since I know this hotel room now longer exists, that means I am most likely in some kind of subconscious construct, designed by you to entrap me and keep me confined," she finished, freezing stock still as he reached her. A pleased, appreciative smile softened his austere features as he reached out a hand to touch her cheek.
"I knew you were not as dim as the rest of your race," he murmured, lowly.
Maria struck.
She grabbed his hand and attempted to twist it around, rising onto her knees, distantly feeling something like silk sliding over her legs as she moved.
A moment later, she found her pinned painfully, to the headboard behind her, Loki looming over her with a tight, predatory smile. Gone was his geniality, his façade, and she glimpsed the same malevolence she saw when he had marched past her in that garage.
A moment later, she realised he wasn't even pinning her. Her hands were stuck fast to the carved wooden board as if by magic.
He chuckled mirthlessly as she glanced to her wrist, and then back to him, her eyes sparking with defiance.
"Oh no, my dear," he told her, throatily. "You will not touch me, until you beg me to allow it."
Which would be never, Maria was sure of that.
He laughed openly this time, as if he could read her thoughts and they just amused him. This time when he touched her cheek, she was powerless to prevent him.
"I assure you, Maria," he growled, leaning in closer as she stayed as still as she could as he moved in, his heated breath washing over her face, her lips as she watched and waited for his endgame. His mouth, his tongue, curled around her name, caressing the prim syllables and stretching them out, into something sensual, seductive. With a surge of horror, she felt the unease she had felt since she had opened her eyes transmute and well into a palpable pooling of heat, deep in her stomach, at the base of her spine. "The day will come, soon, when you will beg that boon of me, and I will be most happy to indulge you in it."
"I will not tell you anything," she hissed at him. As fast as a snake, his hand, those elegant, pale fingers, snared her chin, holding her immobile. If she struggled too much, she would break her jaw, she was certain of it.
"Oh my sweetling," he chuckled, "As you so astutely deduced, we are in your mind. I used your memories to construct this place. I am in control here, and if I so wished, I could drain every speck of information from your weak little mind, and you could do nothing to stop me. I am in control here."
"It's my mind," she hissed back. "And SHIELD agents are trained to handle this sort of thing. You may have control for now, but I will find a way to shut you out."
The God simply smiled and shook his head ruefully, his anger and menace fading as he released her chin.
"Oh, Maria, Maria, Maria," he murmured, purposefully caressing her name once more as he repeated it. "Your bravado is commendable and expected. I have nothing to fear from you, little mortal, and if you please me, if you obey me, you shall have nothing to fear from me."
"But let me make something clear," he continued, raising his hand and Maria felt herself jerked upwards, held in the air, as he gazed up at her. She fought back her fear and her anger, watching him narrowly as he raised one hand.
She was powerless, paralysed to do anything to stop him.
"Your mind is mine to command," he murmured, as he pressed his hand to the flat, hard surface of her sternum and drew it down, gliding it over emerald silk and heated skin. "I can manipulate you as I please, here in your mind. And soon, I will control your body…"
His hand slipped down over her stomach, pausing to press his palm into her, hitching her breath. She gritted her teeth, and resolved to look straight ahead, trying her hardest to block out his proximity, his hand, his effortless control of her body.
Abruptly, she felt his hand on her chin, forcing her to look at him, and she saw his clothes had changed into unfamiliar armour, tarnished gold, a green cloak flaring from his shoulders, an elaborate, golden, pronged helmet covering his ebony hair and guarding his flawless face.
"Just see what I can do to you," he murmured, as she was lowered until her feet touched the bed covers, and with a surge of horror, she felt the silk sheathing her body disappear.
But she was unable to cover herself as he stared at her, his eyes travelling over her naked body, lithe, toned, no excess body fat to be found. She felt his gaze like a heated brand, possessive, unyielding, superior.
She had no control, she could do nothing even as she fought hard to do something, anything, and when he raised evergreen eyes to hers, she saw that truth reflected in them.
"You powerless against me, Maria," he hissed, stepping close, fear clenching in her stomach, her hands longing to curl into fists but she was still paralysed. "I can kill you, hurt you, claim you as my own and there is not a thing you can do about it."
Maria wanted to shudder, but couldn't. His voice, saying those horrible, evil things…
She had been trained to resist interrogation, even torture and psychic invasion, but this…was beyond anything SHIELD could have taught her. She was helpless.
His gaze once again fell to her body, as his armour brushed against her bare breasts, and she snatched in a breath, her body reacting to the cool metal, stimulating her every cell.
She would not give in to this.
But Loki's eyes were amused, as he traced a thumb against her lips, and Maria breathed freer as she felt some control return to her limbs. "You are beautiful, for a human," he murmured. His thumb slipped into her mouth for a moment, and she bit down on it, but he didn't even flinch, just gazed at her until she released him reluctantly. "And defiant. But you, like your people, will bow to me."
"The Avengers will stop you," she hissed back. "We will stop you."
"I love your fire," he chuckled. "It will make this more fun."
"You would take me by force?" Maria raised one brow in mocking imitation of him, but it only deepened his smile. "Why don't you just use your sceptre on me?"
"Oh, I can assure you," he grinned, leaning in again so she was surrounded, completely and utterly surrounded, by him. "I will not need force. No, Maria Hill you will belong to me and you will be aware of it, entirely in possession of your mind, when you bow and give yourself to me."
"You can go to hell," she snapped. His smile didn't lessen, but his gaze seemed to turn inward, as if seeing something she could not see.
"It seems our time together tonight is at an end," he whispered. "When you wake, you will remember every detail of this conversation but you will not tell anyone of it."
Maria didn't answer, just eyed him coldly, as he chuckled, his laugh echoing around her, even as she felt herself yanked away from him-
"Hill! Hill! Do you copy?" Fury's irate, grating tones in her ear awoke Maria from her nap in a moment, almost making her topple off the chair. Hastily, she touched the earpiece.
"I copy, Sir."
"About time," he replied coldly. "Come to the bridge. Captain Rogers is on en route."
"Yes, sir," she replied, tapping the earpiece once to sever the connection. As she stood, her joints aching from the way she had slept so badly, she smoothed her hair back into its regulation bun and checked her gun was in her holster.
Then memories of her dream, of him, filtered back and feelings of heat and humiliation washed over her.
The way he had manipulated her, the way he had played around with her mind so callously….
Told her she would be his.
Maria's fists clenched, and she yearned for something to shoot. Or punch, she wasn't fussy. A certain dark-haired, arrogant, psychotic Prince would do very well.
Refusing to think further on it, she turned about smartly and left the room, unaware of the shadowy figure watching her with a satisfied smile.
Loki did not return to Agent Hill's dreams for another day. His metaphysical confrontation with the Other had unsettled him, as the price of failure was indelibly imprinted on his mind, even as he felt sure he would not lose.
He couldn't lose, not to the paltry efforts of the humans. And he had other pressing matters to attend to than one mortal woman, no matter how desirable.
But now, as he was being brought in by the Avengers and his brother, a surprising but not unanticipated arrival, he smiled to himself. He had not spoken since Thor, the Iron Man and the soldier had finished their little spat in the mountains and had returned him to his seat in the Quinjet.
Now…until he arrived on the SHIELD helicarrier, his time was at his leisure. He smiled, and reached out with his power, searching for the familiar mind of Maria Hill.
Maria was stood on the bridge, at her station, monitoring the various readouts and screens when the jet radioed in to inform the helicarrier of their slightly delayed return to base.
So they'd got him. Loki.
True to his word, Maria had been unable to speak a word about his violation of her dreams, but even if she had…Coulson and Fury would have been unlikely to believe her, would have most likely brushed it off as fear or nerves.
That she couldn't handle her job after the destruction of the compound.
Maria's hand tightened around one edge of the screen she was perusing, and for the first time in her career, her mind drifted as a familiar presence weighed heavily on her.
Loki.
She closed her eyes.
"Miss me?" his tone was cocky, assured as she opened her eyes to find him standing before her, dressed in casual Earth attire, and the sight of him looking so normal, so mortal, unnerved her.
"You wish," she snapped, moving towards him, eying him in case he tried to paralyse her again. "What do you want this time?"
"I believe I have my next point to make," he smiled, seductively, as Maria's heart raced. She stopped, frozen but not this time by Loki's hand, until he reached out and pulled her into him. He was so much taller than her, so she was forced to arch her neck back to look up at him. "You know I can command your mind, but it is not just your mind that I want. Your body is mine as well."
"Well, aren't you a regular romantic?" Maria snapped, sarcastically. Loki simply laughed, his hand curving around her waist, pressing against her lower back.
"You are fortunate, Maria," he murmured, bending his head so his lips were at her ear. "If another spoke to me the way you do, I would not hesitate to wipe their useless life from existence. As it is, you are rather amusing. For all your fire, your words are futile."
Maria stayed tense, even when his hand began to trace intricate patterns on her back, through dark green silk. What was it with him and green?
He chuckled, and the sound sent shudders down her spine. "I must say, you look ravishing in green," he growled.
"I prefer red," she replied curtly, hoping to annoy him but he just raised his head, looking amused.
"Liar," he retorted, and damn him, he was right. She did prefer green to red, but she wasn't about to admit that. Not to him.
On principle.
"You're wrong, you know," she told him coolly. He simply cocked his head to the side, eying her amusedly. "About owning my body. You can do whatever the hell you like to me in my mind, and hell I might enjoy it, but that doesn't mean you own my body."
"So you admit you find me attractive?" he asked, with a cruel smile. Maria snorted.
"I'd have to be blind. You're handsome enough," she replied. "But I'm a SHIELD agent. My head rules my body, not the other way around."
"Commendable philosophy," he whispered in her ear, his lips caressing the curve gently. "But I think you will find it possesses one major flaw."
"And what's that?" she asked, uneasily, suddenly wondering if she was wrong. He raised his head, meeting her eyes, dark emerald to wide-eyed light blue.
He said nothing, just bent his head and kissed her. Maria floundered, surprised by the suddenness of his actions, her metaphysical body in alt as hard, sensually austere lips caressed hers, warming her through.
She tried, she really did, but when he slipped his tongue past her lips, a moan welled up in her throat and escaped without her conscious permission. His hands tightened around her waist, pulling her into him, hard against his body.
Her hands rose to touch him, to discover if that silky mane felt as luscious as it looked, when he suddenly broke the kiss, grabbing her wrists in a grip of iron. At first, she thought he was angry, but he just shook his head mockingly.
"Now, now Maria," he whispered the words against her aching lips. "I told you I would only allow you to touch me when you begged me. Are you begging?"
Maria blinked, then glared at him, her answer very much written in her eyes. Loki just laughed, before his eyes flashed and his jaw hardened.
Abruptly, Maria found herself spun around, both of her wrists clasped in one of his hands, held in front of her. A moment later his hand left her wrists but they were clasped together as if by an invisible rope.
Unconsciously, her breath hitched and her heart raced.
Loki's laugh was pure, wicked sin in her ear as she fought to retake control. She was vulnerable like this, her hands pinned and she was sure her feet would be too if she moved them an inch.
Her legs could be no weapon, unfortunately. Her only recourse was to wait him out, and try and stay in control. He couldn't keep her here forever.
His hands slid from her wrists and up her body, spreading heat in their wake, skilful fingers caressing and possessively pressing against her skin through heated silk, one lingering on her waist, the other gliding up to her neck, pressing his thumb and forefinger to the veins and arteries either side of her neck.
Controlling. He could stop her pulse, if he so chose.
Maria didn't expect it to feel so…arousing.
And he knew it, it seemed. He smiled against her hair, pressing a kiss against the soft waves.
"You feel it, don't you? The way I have you now, utterly at my mercy, helpless. I could kill you now, or kiss you until you beg for my touch. And you know I would succeed."
Maria sucked in a breath, as his hand slid down from her neck and over the silken rise of her breast, harshly caressing it and rolling the hard peak against his palm. His lips pressed against her cheekbone.
"But I am a merciful God," he chuckled. "The time for that is near, but not quite here yet. For now, I will demonstrate how much I own you already, your mind and through it, your body."
She felt his hand, the one on her waist, slide down, curving against the slight swell of her abdomen and down further, until he curled his fingers over the apex of her thighs. The feel of those long fingers, stroking, smoothing over the damp silk felt incredible, as pleasure spiked and flowed through Maria's veins.
His own voice when he pressed his mouth close to her ear again, was laboured and husky with lust. "You humans, you crave control and yet when it is taken from you, you rejoice. Your body welcomes the release, the loss of your precious control even as you fight to retain it."
The motion of his fingers was maddening, and he wasn't even touching bare skin yet. An aching, pulsating void had opened inside of Maria, and she was burning in her own skin.
He continued, merciless in his pursuit of her surrender, as his lips possessively marked her neck. "Do you not see what I am offering you? Surrender, sweet, mindless, intoxicating surrender. Maria, I can set you free from all of it, from Fury, from SHIELD, from the pathetic, moronic mortals who would doubt you because of your gender, who see their world only as the provenance of men, even from your own restrictive morality…"
Maria lost the battle with her body, and let out a strangled moan as his teeth bit down on the curve of her neck, and his fingers only caressed harder between her thighs. He soothed the ache with his tongue, as she tilted her head to the side, mindless with pleasure and vulnerability, aware only of his hard palm against her now swollen breast, his fingers ruthlessly teasing pleasure from her body, and the seductive lips chipping away at her control.
"Control is an illusion, Maria," he whispered. "And nothing is sweeter than the truth."
Abruptly, his hand left her breast and tangled in her hair, pulling it hard so pain mingled with pleasure as her head was yanked back, to meet his eyes, gleaming like polished emeralds, heated, lustful but knowing. Powerful. In control.
She was in his control.
"Maria Hill, Agent of SHIELD," he hissed, malevolently as his fingers left her aching body and slid beneath the silk of her skirt. "You are mine."
A single finger slid deep into her body at the same time as he claimed her mouth, rapaciously, without pause or consent, his tongue thrusting deep into her mouth in time with his finger.
She cried out as pleasure built and exploded behind her eyes-
"Agent Hill?" Coulson's concerned, surprisingly gentle voice filtered through her fogged mind, and snapped her free of Loki's insidious hold. "Are you alright?"
Inwardly shuddering, Maria realised that her hand was still holding the edge of the screen in a death grip, and she was shaking.
Her entire body had filled with heat, and her legs felt ready to fold. A pulsating ache spread from the apex of her thighs, and outwards, to the every extremities of her body.
Damn him. Damn Loki.
"What is it, Coulson?" she barked, drawing herself up and forcing her body into abeyance. The concern in her colleague's eyes faded to cool professionalism, and he nodded.
"They've landed. They're bringing Loki down to the detention level now. Fury wants a word with him, if you want to listen in," he explained, before turning away and leaving the bridge. Maria hesitated, before sighing and allowing her hands to glide across the screen, bringing up one of the cameras in the cell they'd designed for Doctor Banner, should his alter ego make an appearance, but would now have to do for Loki.
It wouldn't hold him for long, that she was certain of. She didn't know his plan, but he wanted to be here, she was sure of it.
And there was nothing she could do. She couldn't even say his name to anyone, let alone tell anyone of her suspicions, or her dreams.
He was utterly in control, and he knew it.
And her body was exhilarated by it.
Loki smiled as he was shut into the cage, knowing it would not be long until he was free again.
And if he was not mistaken, she was nearby. He could feel her as if she was standing right next to him.
Her training was coming along nicely. Soon, she would be running to him, her Master, and he would gladly give her shelter. His most prized, most cherished possession.
So when he turned to face Fury, the mortal all but brimming with smug condescension, his smile only widened.
He knew she was watching.
Oh how he looked forward to their next meeting…
She knew he knew she was watching him.
"It's an impressive cage…" he murmured. "Not built, I think, for me."
She had felt such a loss of control when he had held her in his arms, bound by his magic, prey to his body.
"Oh, I've heard…" he drawled, his smile charming yet predatory as he looked to the cameras. Straight at her. "A mindless beast makes play he's still a man."
That voice, those hands, on her body, in her mind…controlled.
Already she felt the pull, the compulsion and her body tautened with desire. Her mind fogged.
"How desperate are you? You call on such lost creatures to defend you?" he sneered, contemptuously.
She was very desperate. Her body was beyond her control, her mind fighting to be free but he held it in his thrall. What had he done to her?
"Oooh," he chuckled. "It burns you to have come so close…"
Oh, yes she was burning.
"To have the tesseract, to have power. Unlimited power. And for what?" His eyes rose to hers, through the camera lens, where she stood on the bridge. She was frozen, paralysed, helpless. "A warm light for all mankind to share. And then to be reminded of what real power is."
She barely heard Fury's parting shot, as he turned aside and walked away, but her eyes remained riveted on the figure stood, so confident, so defiant in their cage, looking up at the camera.
Looking up at her.
Maria had never lost control. Not physically, and certainly not mentally. She was tough, she was practical and rigid in her mindset.
She had a duty to do, and loyalties to fulfil.
But the arrival of Loki had turned her life on its head. No, not even him.
The tesseract.
The tesseract had changed everything, and it meant she'd had to do things, say things at Fury's command that she did not agree with.
But she was a loyal, obedient agent of this covert network. It was ingrained in her psyche to do so.
So maybe Loki had a point after all.
But he…Loki had torn away all the long years of disciplined, ingrained self-control, showing her how flimsy her illusions were. And he had done it with ease.
And now he was here.
She knew what Fury had planned for him, if he did not cooperate with them, or succumb to Natasha's talents. And she would have to watch, to analyse, to interpret his words and search for deeper meaning.
She did not know if she could do it.
Under her breath, she hissed. "Damn you, Loki. Damn you."
The bridge was a morass of chaos, as it tilted alarmingly and SHIELD operatives went flying. Maria clung to her station, forcing herself to stay upright.
An alert came. The Hulk and Thor were in the lower hangar bay.
"We need full evac on the lower hangar bay," Fury told her, and she turned briskly, marching away, glad to have something to distract her and help her mind focus.
She gestured to one of the SHIELD security team, hurrying towards the stairs when she saw a cylindrical, metallic black object roll across the floor towards her.
Instinct kicked in even as her eyes widened and her mind processed what it was. "Grenade!" she cried out, throwing herself sideways as it exploded. She collided with another SHIELD agent, falling over the gantry and onto the floor below, landing heavily, her skin splitting across her forehead.
"So we meet again, Agent Hill," a familiar voice murmured. Maria spun, her body ready to attack, her mind alert, focussed as it hadn't been since his arrival, and Loki watched her with some amusement, clothed in his leather surcoat and light armour.
The same attire he wore in his cell.
"Loki," she hissed. "I don't know what you're playing at, but stop this game right now!"
"Oooh, so feisty," he chuckled, taking one step towards her, caressing her cheek with one finger. "As it is, sweetling, you are currently unconscious from that grenade. So I have you until your body awakens."
"I assume this is you?" she snapped caustically, taking a step back. To her surprise, she heard a twig snap beneath her boot, and looked down not only to see her body clothed in her SHIELD uniform, but to see they stood in a forest, tall evergreens stretching their long bodies into the dark sky above. "We know you planned to unleash the Hulk."
"At last the penny has dropped," he folded his arms, eying her amusedly. "Agent Romanoff performed her part rather well, I must say. She almost had me for a moment, but her little intervention, coupled with Stark and Banner investigating my little hint about SHIELD's intentions towards the tesseract, and Captain Rogers' own curiosity…well, this was child's play."
Maria glared at him, longing for a gun in her hand. His gaze turned from amused to intent, as he stepped towards her, stalking her back. Unknowingly, she moved back as he moved forwards.
"You know, I was rather lonely in my cell," he murmured seductively. "A pity you did not join me, sweetling."
"I had far better things to do, like save the world from psychotic idiots like you!" she snapped. He simply chuckled.
"You're angry with me, aren't you darling?" he grinned. "Oh dear. I did warn you, I did show you how easily your kind can be manipulated, used. You need to be ruled."
That last was spoken directly into her ear, and she fought and failed to hide her shudder at his velvet voice, dripping its poison into her mind.
When she opened her eyes, he stood, looming over her, not touching, not threatening yet Maria had never felt so vulnerable in her life. He was as unavoidable and inexorable as death.
"Why have you contacted me like this again?" she asked, voice quieter than the wind now.
"To show you one last thing, my dearest Maria," he murmured. "So, if I were you, my little doe, I would run before I get bored and start chasing you."
Maria stared at him, eyes wide. Run? Chase her? Little doe?
"Who the hell do you think you are!" she demanded, lashing out with her fist. It collided with his chin, and while it felt like punching a stone wall, he still eyed her cruelly.
"You will pay for that, when I get my hands on you," he growled, still standing his ground. "Now run."
"No," she hissed, even though the compulsion had started to burn inside of her. "I won't play your games."
"Oh, this isn't the game," he smiled now, and somehow that smile was deadlier, more terrifying than his anger. "This is just the warm-up. So run, while you still can, because when I catch you, I will not let you go, Agent Hill."
Finally, the compulsion won out over stubbornness, and she ran, hearing his jeering laughter follow her, as trees flitted past, and dead wood cracked beneath her boots.
"Hill!"
A familiar voice interrupted her flight, even when she felt Loki behind her, chasing her triumphantly certain of his victory.
Director Fury.
"Hill!"
She stopped and turned, to see the God enter the clearing she was stood in, and she just folded her arms in mocking imitation of him, as he slowed and stalked nearer, eyes anticipatory, filled with fiery lust.
She could feel her mind returning to consciousness, and she felt her own little victory well within her. "You lose, Asgardian," she called, before he reached her. He just laughed and shook his head, triumph of his own turning his features bestial.
"Oh no, my little mortal," he chuckled cruelly. "You have won this battle, but the war is mine. You are mine. And soon I will prove it beyond doubt. You, body, mind and soul, belong to me."
His words echoed in her head even as consciousness returned-
And Maria sat bolt upright, her head pounding, warm stickiness flowing down one side of her face.
Blood. Her blood.
She looked up to see Fury fighting two men in SHIELD gear, and saw a third approach from behind.
The move was instinctive. She raised her gun and fired.
Together, she and Fury covered the exits from the bridge, ensuring no hostiles made it through.
"They're not getting through her, so what-?" Fury snarled, just as there came a massive explosion, blowing an entire bank of computers and killing several personnel. They looked up and saw Barton, aiming at another of the computers, and firing his arrows with deadly accuracy. Fury let off two shots at him and he retreated.
Then Maria saw the screens go dark, and the cameras fail.
The detention level. Loki.
She heard his voice in her head, seductive, commanding. Come to me now, Maria. It is time.
Slowly she rose from her crouch, her gun still held in her hand, and even as Fury called her back, as SHIELD agents tried to follow, the hostiles held them back while they let her go.
And she didn't know what she was going to do. Kill him or…
She didn't know, and fear mingled with longing in her blood, swamping her bitter hatred of him, of what he had turned her into.
She rushed towards the detention level, towards Loki's cell, entering in through a second doorway to find him beside the cell controls, Thor now imprisoned within it, watching him beadily.
To her horror, she saw Coulson holding a gun on Loki, one of the monstrous ones from the armoury, newly developed after the Puente Antiguo incident, and raised her own, moving into position behind Loki.
Staring at him, at his back, as Coulson's eyes remained on Loki, not giving her position away, she felt something shift within her, and she made her decision.
Loki felt her come, and smiled inwardly. His little mortal was here, and now she would prove herself that she belonged to him.
He heard the hammer on her gun depress, heard the creak of the trigger as she pulled it back….
And Coulson collapsed to the ground, a blossoming bullet wound in his shoulder.
"NO!" Thor yelled, as Maria lowered her gun, shock making her tremble, fear and disgust making her nauseous. The Loki in front of her trembled and wavered, disappearing into nothingness as the real Loki stepped from the shadows behind Coulson, bearing the Sceptre.
"Well done, sweetling," he called, holding his hand out to her. "I knew you would not disappoint me."
Maria glanced up to him, mouth agape, eyes wide with unshed tears. She had never looked more vulnerable, more lost and never in Loki's opinion, had she looked lovelier.
Wordlessly, she took his hand, and he pulled her close, his grip transferring to her hair as his mouth swooped down, kissing her hard and possessively.
Her terror assuaged, Maria kissed back, although she did not touch him. The pleasure, sweet, honeyed, spread through her veins, thawing the iciness of the shock from shooting Coulson.
Loki raised his head with a bestial groan, and glanced towards his brother, imprisoned in the cell, eying them both with a mixture of pity and anger in his stormy blue eyes.
"You see, brother," Loki crowed triumphantly. "See how mortals long to be controlled. She is mine, mind, body and soul."
He released Maria, and went back towards the cell controls, lifting the cap on the release button with relish.
He opened the chute beneath the cell, smiling down as the wind whipped back his surcoat, his raven hair flying. His finger hovered over the release button, his eyes triumphantly fixed on Thor's.
Then he pressed it, and his brother fell.
Maria barely took notice, except for the man on the floor, bleeding heavily.
"I'm so sorry, Phil," she breathed, staring down at him helplessly. His eyes glimmered, and he tried to speak, but blood dripped from his mouth.
Loki heard her pathetic plea for forgiveness from the man she had just shot and betrayed, and sighed. He would have to break her of that.
He moved away from the console and held out his hand to her commandingly. "Maria, come," he called. She hesitated only a moment, her eyes wavering on Coulson, before she turned and came to his side. To reinforce the revelation of her identity, her true loyalty, he bent his head and kissed her passionately, making her moan, but she did not reach for him.
She had learned that lesson at least.
"Come, sweetling," he breathed against her lips, bruised, swollen. His. "We have much to do."
But as they turned away, Coulson's weak but determined voice filtered across the room. "You're going to lose," he told Loki quietly. The pair stopped, and Maria stared down at her friend and colleague, her chest filled with pain as her Master, her Lord, simply scoffed.
"Am I?" he asked scornfully.
"It's in your nature," Coulson replied, quietly. Dignified even as his blood drained from him.
"Your heroes are scattered, your flying fortress falls from the sky, one of your most trusted agents now belongs to me," Loki prowled back towards the fallen agent. "Where is my disadvantage?"
"You lack conviction," Coulson strained, coughing. As in a daze, as new light entered his dulling eyes when they met hers, and his hand moved towards the trigger on the prototype. "And I won't let you take her."
Loki's face hardened, as he turned towards the mortal fully, arrogance blinding him to the threat. "I don't think I'm-"
Maria reacted on instinct, throwing herself in front of Loki as the weapon discharged. She was dimly aware of Coulson's horrified, pained eyes, then just agony as burning waves knocked her back, into Loki, taking him with her.
They flew back through the opposite wall, landing hard on the metal gantry beyond and Maria falling aside limply.
A moment later, the pain truly hit, and not even all her SHIELD training, her years of discipline, her natural stubbornness and desire to avoid looking weak could stop her crying out, tears escaping from the corners of her eyelids.
Her body burned, agony wracking every cell and darkness plucked at the corners of her vision.
Loki recovered from the blast, and glanced sideways to find his mortal, wounded fatally, her torso burned, the flesh melted and distorted, utterly destroyed in some places so her ribs and internal organs showed.
Apart from her initial anguished cry, she made no sign, her tears silent, her pain too great for sound. Her breath was shallow, her life ebbing as he looked down at her, and considered her.
She had proved useful, indeed, beyond his wildest imaginings. She was a valued possession. His most cherished.
And he was not bored of her yet.
Silently, he knelt down beside her body, writhing in mute agony and placed his palm on her ruined torso. She hissed, her eyes flinching shut, and then she relaxed as the blue crystal in the Sceptre glowed, and his magic reformed muscles and bone, weaved new skin and repaired cellular damage.
Her devotion impressed him, for he had felt the full pain of the weapon for one moment before his superior body healed, and to have thrown herself before him, to save him, misguided an action as it was. She had proven herself.
She deserved his mercy, his mortal. Besides, he was not finished with her, and he had not given her permission to die. If she was to die, it would be by his hand and no other's, not even her own.
Oh yes, Maria Hill would live as long as he commanded her to. Once he possessed the power of the tesseract, she would join him in eternity, the only one of her disgusting kind to do so, and so she would be his forever.
For all his unsentimental contempt for humanity, the thought made him smile as he lifted her effortlessly into his arms, her body still in shock from the wound and the healing, and carried her out of the corridor.
And out to the landing pad where a stolen Quinjet awaited them. He felt the Helicarrier level out, and knew that Stark and the soldier must have succeeded in fixing the engine.
No matter. He would enjoy destroying them at his leisure once the Chitauri came through.
It would be soon.
The thought raised his lips into an animalistic smile of anticipation, as he cradled the mortal in his arms, held to his chest.
Once inside, he placed her on the floor, lying between his legs, her back to his chest. She started awake, her lungs gulping in air as her mind struggled to remember all that had occurred.
He stroked her dishevelled hair soothingly, petting her. "Hush, sweetling," he murmured, as she relaxed against him. "You are safe now."
He felt her fall back into slumber, and let his body relax slightly. Oh, he looked forward to the night to come with relish.
Maria started awake, a ghostly memory of pain and melted flesh making her nauseous as she sat bolt upright, then forced herself to calm.
Regaining her calm, she looked around her. She was in a plush penthouse bedroom, one large wall of glass overlooking the city of New York outside.
She knew this room. She had seen it on numerous schematics Agent Romanoff had purloined during her tenure as assistant to Stark. Stark Tower.
But why…?
A memory returned, of Stark and Banner debating how Loki could reopen a portal with the tesseract, how he would need a self-sustained energy source to do so and avoid the portal collapsing like it did at SHIELD.
The arc reactor.
Of course. Excitement rose in her breast, until she remembered.
She had betrayed SHIELD, she had shot Coulson. She hadn't attempted to stop Loki when he disposed of his brother.
What had she done?
What you needed to do…you belong to him now. You belonged to him the moment you shot Coulson.
She clutched at the silken bed sheets, then frowned. She had thrown herself in front of the prototype Destroyer gun. She should be dead.
Loki had healed her. Why?
Then she realised she was naked beneath the sheet. Hastily, she looped the sheet around her, tying it between her breasts like a toga, since her uniform seemed to have disappeared.
A familiar voice broke through her confusion, chuckling seductively. "Forgive me, my dear," he murmured, standing beside the window, in the shadows, watching her with glittering eyes. "I took the liberty of disposing of that awful, restrictive uniform. It was beyond repair anyway."
"I suppose I should thank you for healing me," she began carefully. He simply smiled and turned his back, as if knowing she wouldn't attempt anything while his back was turned.
"You belong to me, Maria Hill," he growled, his back blocking out his reflection. Maria stood from the bed, the folds of the sheet falling around her lithe figure. "I did not give you permission to die. If anyone will kill you, it will be by my hand, and my hand alone."
The words that she did not belong to anyone hung on the very tip of her tongue, but she did not speak. Her actions belied her words.
She moved to stand beside him, staring out at the city of New York, soon to be a battleground.
"There is a storm coming, Maria," he breathed huskily. "And you and I will be riding the wave together."
"I don't suppose I have a choice now, do I?" she muttered. She sensed his swift, amused smile.
"No. You don't," he replied simply, before grabbing her and slamming her against the glass.
"Why did you heal me?" she demanded, even as her head pounded from the impact, and her entire body ached. "I'm human. You think we're insects to stamp on with your boot."
He chuckled, brushing back a lock of wavy hair. "No, no, no my sweetling," he told her, leaning in to whisper in her ear. "You are no ordinary mortal. I chose you, and you will join me in my glorious rule."
Maria mentally rolled her eyes at the egotistical sentence, but she frowned. "Are you trying to tell me you fell in love with me?" she asked. A moment later, she regretted it.
He grabbed a chunk of hair, pulling her neck back at an excruciating angle. "Love," he scoffed huskily. "What an insipid sentiment. No, Maria Hill, I saved you because you belong to me. It is that simple."
His grip gentled, and she was allowed to meet his eyes once more. He caressed her hair, and she fought to ignore how good his touch felt even after that punishing grip. "Incidentally, you will never wear your hair in such restrictive styles again, is that understood?" he asked, quietly, his voice dark, low. Gritting her teeth, Maria just nodded. One dark brow arched, and she sighed.
"Yes, my King," she breathed. His eyes gleamed with desire, as he leaned in, brushing her lips.
"Now, I think it's time I claimed what is mine," he growled, just before he kissed her, deeply, passionately. Maria kept her hands at her sides, but clung to him with her mouth, meeting his animalistic ferocity with her own pain and anger at the way he had monumentally screwed up her life.
By the time he lifted his head, she was heated through, simmering and urgent. And willing to beg.
"Please, my King, let me touch you," she breathed, her lips still against his. His smile was triumphant as he pressed her back against the glass window. He nodded his assent, and she reached her hands up to his hair, slick, darker than any black she had seen before. He groaned unrestrainedly against her mouth, before thrusting his tongue deep inside it, and she moaned, writhing against him as his hands slid further down her body, hauling her tightly against him even as he pressed her against the cool glass wall.
Suddenly he hitched her leg up to his hip, rough leather and metal pressing against her sensitive inner thigh, and then he thrust into her, and she groaned at the feeling of fullness as he settled within her.
She met his eyes, both panting, both luxuriating in the pleasure of each other's bodies, one constant in Maria's ever-decaying world. She felt a surge of fear as his emerald eyes narrowed cruelly, and it only added to the spicy thrill of desire rushing through her veins, a mixture of ice and fire that was invigorating.
Abruptly, she felt the window at her back disappear, and would have fallen back were it not for her iron grip on Loki's leather clad shoulders, or his bruising hold on her knee and waist. Her heel teetered over the edge, the wind plucking at the sheet still draped around her body, her hair flying in the rush of air. Cold rushed up her back, as he tightened his grip and leaned forward, bending her back and into the air.
She met his eyes and knew this was about control again. He had control here, over her, over her life. If he so chose, he could release her and she would fall.
He had control.
And for the first time, she relished the release, as she clung to him when he thrust into her again, still holding her knee up by his waist, his body sliding deep into hers, her nails digging into the cloth at his back. She dared to press a kiss to his exposed neck for one moment, before resting her head on his chest and letting him do what he would with her, releasing control to him entirely.
It washed away her pain, her fear, her anger; the bitterness of betrayal, of guilt of murder. It made her irrevocably his.
"Loki, please," she breathed, when the slow movement of their intercourse did nothing to sate her, only drive her need higher, as she leaned her head back to meet his eyes, on fire, alive with power, with madness and with lust.
He chuckled. "Quite right," he breathed hoarsely, bending in to kiss her. "There are far too many prying eyes, and the sight of you so deliciously undone, so utterly mine is for your King's eyes alone."
The wall of glass reappeared, and Maria found herself lifted into his arms entirely. He carried her over to the bed, laying her upon it, slipping from her and grinning amusedly at her sigh of disappointment. Using his magic, he rid himself of his garments, and then knelt on the bed between her splayed legs.
Holding her eyes, he reached out and untucked the sheet from between her breasts, unfolding it to reveal her in all her fragile, mortal beauty.
But not for much longer. Once Earth was his, she would join him.
She raised her hands to him, welcoming, pleading with a surrender that enthused him with need, with heat and fire and life he had not felt since before the revelation of his true birth.
He went to her and covered, slipping back into the warm haven of her body as she cried out, her body arching beneath his as he laved her skin with his tongue, marking as he would, until he reached her lips.
He pulled her hair, holding her head in place, as she was forced to look up at him unblinkingly, his mouth suspended torturously over hers, the rhythm of his hips enough to keep her on the edge of release, but not enough to tip her over it.
"You are mine, Maria Hill," he growled. "I will never let you go. Tell me, who is your master?"
"You," she gasped, as he rolled his hips into hers as reward.
"Your King?"
"You!" she cried out, arching her body and pressing it up into his. He chuckled hoarsely, feeling his own control teetering. She was a sly one, and that was what made this fun.
Oh, it had been worth every inch of effort exerted to make her his. The final piece of the puzzle of his revenge, and his victory over SHIELD.
"Good girl," he murmured, brushing her lips with his, feeling her nails press into his shoulder blades almost savagely. He liked her fierceness, even in surrender. So he gave her what she needed, what he needed, and thrust into her one last time, ending her agony and giving her the release she sought. He followed, holding himself above her as he did so, enjoying the waves of heat that lapped against his muscles and his mind, lifted from the burden of success for once.
He looked down at her, stroking a dark curl from her face, as she watched him warily. He leaned in and kissed her swollen, bitten lips tenderly, pleased when she returned it a moment later.
"Tomorrow, we will rise," he told her quietly. "And then you will bear my heir, and none shall stop us, sweetling."
"I don't get a choice in this, do I?" she asked coolly, despite the way she arched beneath him once more, as she felt him harden inside her once more, and her tired body already awoke, eagerly needing more.
"No," he growled, bending his head. "And you love it."
Maria did not, could not, demur as he kissed her heatedly, passion already reigniting between them.
On the roof, Erik Selvig worked through the night, untiring, uncaring that his face was covered in stubble, his shirt soiled and untucked, his body needing food and rest. He worked for his Master and King.
And below, as the first rays of dawn broke out over New York, and the Avengers rose to fight, Maria Hill loved her King and Master, giving him the one thing he truly needed, beyond a kingdom or a throne.
Control.