27She Is My Glory
Warnings: Explicit themes. Violence. Mention of torture.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
'Love is like war: easy to begin but hard to end.'
- Anonymous
The long, dull, gunmetal grey corridor was silent, emergency lighting the only illumination. Most of the cells were empty, desolately silent, but for one.
In one, a person lay on the cold floor, her body coiling and uncoiling with the rhythm of her sit-ups, the strong muscles of her abdomen flexing, gleaming with sweat.
She had been doing sit-ups for hours. It was the only thing which helped her escape the monotony, from one endless rhythm to another.
So she could not remember. So she would not look back.
She had been imprisoned for thirty six days, fifteen hours and nine minutes.
She supposed that a part of her acknowledged that she deserved this punishment. She had betrayed her country and her race, but…she had never had much choice.
They'd had her interrogated at first. Not Fury's doing, oh no. She knew his style well enough to know that he would have confronted her, face to face. No, this was the doing of the Council.
As if spending a few hours in the company of a war criminal had made her party to his secrets and knowledge.
They hadn't broken her. SHIELD had trained her too well, after all, and she simply withdrew into herself, into her mind where even their most aggressive drugs could not reach her. She didn't know anything anyway.
Eventually it had stopped. The bruises were fading; the cuts scabbed over and pink instead of red. And now she just waited, in this interminable, gunmetal grey hell.
In a way that was worse than the torture. Because now, left to the silence and the monotony, nothing prevented her from looking back. From remembering.
Her stomach muscles burning, Maria Hill, former agent of SHIELD, collapsed to the floor, relishing the burn of the pain. It made her feel in control.
She both hated and loved that feeling. For even as she relished this small victory over the men and women who held her captive, she burned for the release of control she had experienced at the hands of another powerful, shadowy creature.
No matter how she exhausted herself, she couldn't escape her dreams.
There came a change, one day. Maria paused in her incessant physical exercises, and looked up expectantly as footsteps, slow, measured, approached her cell.
A familiar figure appeared in front of the reinforced glass observation window, one which made what was left of her heart seize with guilt and trepidation.
Dressed in his usual, staid, suit, with one arm still bound in a sling, was Phil Coulson.
"Maria," he breathed cordially. She scrambled to stand, placing herself in front of him, a wall of glass between them.
"Phil," she muttered. "How's the shoulder?"
"Getting there," he smirked slightly. "Still hurts like a bitch."
"I'm truly sorry about that," she murmured. She looked away, remembering those moments where she thought she had fatally injured her colleague. He was lucky; the medical response team had done their jobs well. Her shot, while dangerous, had not been low enough to pierce his lungs or heart.
Oddly enough, there was no scorn or contempt in his eyes as she met them. He just smiled tightly, before glancing at his watch.
"I believe you," he sighed. "But why did you do it? Go with him?"
"I don't know," Maria replied quietly. She didn't know, not then and not now. She hated that feeling of uncertainty. "It was my own choice, it wasn't the sceptre. I never wanted him to take over the world but I…can't explain what happened."
"I understand," Coulson nodded. "He gave what you needed."
Maria flinched away at that, turning her back to him, not wanting to hear that painful truth. "I do not need him," she snarled under her breath.
"Hill!" he barked, making her turn back to him in shock. He glanced subtly to the security camera recording her every move and word, and then back to her. "We don't have much time. Probably about five minutes."
"What is this?" she asked, turning back to him coolly, folding her arms. "More tricks since the torture didn't work?"
Coulson's eyes seemed to burn at that. "I didn't condone that. Neither did the Director. That is irrelevant now, I had Agent Romanoff place an audio loop on this feed for the next few minutes. There are things we need to talk about that I'd rather the Council didn't know about."
"Does Fury know you're talking to me?" Maria's icy eyes narrowed. Coulson's own strained face was her answer.
"He's…aware, but necessarily in the dark. Only I, Agent Barton, Agent Romanoff and the Captain are fully in the loop," he explained quickly. "Now listen. The Council ordered the postponement of your…interrogation for one reason only. The medical checks they ran on you brought up something…troubling."
Maria froze, and her breath hung in her throat, desperate to exhale but unable to.
"You're pregnant. The blood tests confirmed it. About a month gone," he told her coolly. "I obviously don't need to ask you who the father is."
Maria fought back her shock and her sudden nausea, as she backed up a few paces and sat on the hard bench that served as her bed.
Her mind whirled, but through it all, one thing shone through, sickening and dark. "They want the…child," she breathed.
"They will wait and see if you survive the pregnancy. The child is only half human, after all," Coulson told her, coolly, his voice utterly matter-of-fact. "Then they will take the child and turn it into a weapon. You know what that will mean."
Maria nodded, looking away. She had read reports of child spies, taken and trained from their earliest years to be assassins, had seen the product of such training programmes herself. Natasha Romanoff had been one such child, once.
And she…would probably be executed. Quietly, secretly, her death efficient and humane yes, but she would cease to exist. Her child would never know her, once she ceased to be useful to the Council.
"They're moving you to a secure medical facility in California tomorrow night. That will be your best chance," he told her, glancing once more at his watch. "Agents Barton and Romanoff will provide the distraction but once you're out, you are on your own."
And with that he turned away. Maria did not call him back, or say any of the things she ached to say. But she thought them, as a tear slipped down her cheek.
Thank you.
Thor shifted uneasily as he stood outside his brother's prison. He had seen little of him since they had returned to Asgard with the tesseract, at his father's behest, although he had longed to see him.
To try and reach the brother he knew was still there, somewhere, beneath the pain, the anger, the black bitterness clogging Loki's torn soul. Somewhere, beneath all that, was his little brother with his magic tricks and devilish smile.
He refused to give up hope.
And something told him that Heimdall's latest news from Midgard might just be the key to that.
It made him tremble with rage just to think of it, so what it would do to Loki…
Again, he hoped.
The stone cracked and groaned as it was magically torn apart, creating the long corridor which led to Loki's prison. It was dark and cold, even to the Asgardian, but he knew his brother's Jotunn physiognomy would protect him from it.
He had always suffered little from the cold.
His grip around Mjolnir continued to tighten despite himself, as he swept down the corridor, his scarlet cloak flaring around him.
He emerged into a high, cold chamber, dark but for a few torches glowing with an eerie blue light. His eyes scanned the pervasive darkness for his brother, but he could see no trace.
"Tell me, Thor, will you ever learn not to turn your back to an open doorway?" Loki's familiar drawling, sarcastic tones almost elicited a jump from the warrior Prince, as he turned to find his brother stood behind him, pale, almost ghostly looking with his dark hair and white skin, and his black robes.
A chain was attached to his foot, which bound his magic. Loki smiled wryly at Thor's surprise. "I do not need magic to be stealthy, Odinson," he murmured silkily. "A trick you never mastered."
"Brother," Thor began, already readying himself for whatever barbs Loki would throw his way. "I have news."
"Oh really?" Loki laughed, a cold, cruel sound that made Thor's skin crawl. It was the laughter of the mad creature who now wore his brother's skin, and he longed to shake him free of its grasp. "What news? That the All-Father has thought of a better punishment for his pet than this? If he thought this would break me…he really is going both soft and senile-"
Thor could not let that insult to their father go. His hand shot out, encaging Loki's neck and tightening, pulling him close. "Do not insult our father so! If you think that Father wishes for your pain and suffering-"
"Your father, Odinson. Not mine," Loki snarled back, removing his neck from Thor's grip. "I tire of this pointless argument. Tell me your news and then leave me to my solitude. Your voice is enough to give me a headache."
Thor took a moment to regain his calm. Loki always had a way of riling his temper just so, coupled with the completely contradictory ability to soothe it as well. "Brother, Heimdall has come to me with some troubling news about the human woman you took from SHIELD, Maria Hill," he began carefully. Loki showed no outward signs of displeasure or anger, but he noticed the way the younger Prince tensed ever so slightly. "You know they imprisoned her for her betrayal?"
"I would expect nothing less of such low creatures," Loki snapped, turning away.
"Heimdall told me that they subjected her to torture to gain information on you," Thor continued, eying his brother for more signs.
"Why am I not surprised?" he chuckled darkly. "No doubt Fury found her most interesting once she broke."
"She did not break, nor did Fury order the torture," Thor interrupted, shaking his golden head. "The ruling Council of SHIELD did so. In any case, they halted the interrogation once…"
"Once what, Odinson?" Loki turned back, his green eyes blazing. Despite his attempted apathy, Loki was far more concerned than he let on. Perhaps the All-Father was correct about this Hill woman being the key to Loki's rehabilitation.
"She is with child. Yours," Thor finished quietly. Loki stiffened, seemingly turned to stone as his eyes bored into his foster brother's. Silence fell, thick and cold, between them as Loki's arms uncoiled themselves, and he drew himself up like a cobra about to strike.
"What did you say?" he snarled, quietly.
"She is with child," Thor repeated. "SHIELD plans to use the child as a weapon for their own ends, Heimdall told me."
"I see," Loki turned away, surprising Thor entirely, his emotion seemingly evaporated away like mist.
"'I see'?" Thor repeated, stunned. "Is that all you can say? Loki, she is carrying your child, and she will likely be executed once she is delivered. Will you do nothing?"
"There is not much I can do," he replied harshly. "She was but a plaything. I care little for her or her bastard."
Thor shook his head disgustedly, turning away without another word. He did not see Loki's hands curl into fists, or the power straining at its bonds within him.
When Thor returned to his chambers, he found Frigga and Odin waiting for him. He faltered at the sight of his parents, gleaming as brightly as the golden walls of his rooms.
"Thor," Frigga called gently, a motherly smile hiding the pain in her eyes. "How is he?"
"He will not help," he replied, sighing wearily as he stepped inside his room. "He cares nothing for the mortal woman. We were wrong."
Odin smiled slightly, his one eye considering his son, before looking out to the stars beyond their great Realm.
"Then you do not know your brother," he replied. "He was always loath to show his emotions, and therefore his plans, so precipitously. Even if he feels no love for the woman, you yourself told us of his possessiveness."
"And possessiveness is but one facet of that emotion," Frigga finished, stroking her son's cheek. "He will not disappoint us."
"The woman, and their child, in Loki's eyes, belong to him and him alone. He will not allow any harm to come to them," Odin continued. "That alone will break his chains and allow him to leave Asgard."
"You purposely made his chains weak so he might break them?" Thor joined his father in his vigil over the stars.
"Not weak," Odin shook his head. "I simply ensured the key was always in Loki's reach."
"But even if he…" Thor trailed off, a hard weight settling on his shoulders. "Even if he goes to their aid, what certainty do we have that he will not then simply revert?"
"The tesseract is beyond his reach," the All Father replied softly. "And we cannot know. But that is the joy, and the price, of freedom. Unpredictability."
Thor looked down, at his curled, strong fist and nodded, accepting his father's wisdom, and hoping he was right.
In his prison, Loki had sat down once Thor had left, the darkness and the silence lending themselves to his thoughts.
The news Thor had brought him raced across his head, as he closed his eyes, his legs coiled beneath him like the powerful limbs of a jaguar, his relaxed body hiding the storm building inside of him.
She was with child. His Maria was with his child.
SHIELD had hurt her, those pathetic insects had harmed her, and now they thought to use his own child against him?
He would see Helheim, and the Nine Realms, freeze over first before he allowed that. Not that he would allow his idiot of a sibling to see that. He did not require Thor's assistance in this matter. Despite his apparent apathy and contempt, he would not allow anyone, mortal, Asgardian, Chitauri, Jotunn or Other to touch what was his.
And Maria Hill was most assuredly his.
The hatred and the rage built inside of him like a black inferno, his magic prowling restlessly behind the chains of its prison, and he felt it swell, painfully so, until he thought he might explode with it.
The feeling pushed sound from his lips, and he let loose a piercing, echoing cry as magic exploded from his fingertips, like a fiery wave, obliterating the chains Odin had placed upon him, unleashing his power until he was shrouded in it, so only a great, black cloud remained in his stead.
The stone walls of his prison were torn by the force of Loki's magic, flying high into the air before falling back down.
When the fallen Prince opened his eyes, it was to the velvety sky of Asgard, his chains nowhere to be seen in the rubble of his prison. Calling his armour to him, he clothed himself in his full glory, feeling the exhilaration of his freed power wash away the tribulations of his imprisonment.
Even as the guards rushed to subdue him, he waved them aside with a contemptuous gesture, walking determinedly away from his former prison, a grim smirk on his austere face.
In the palace of Asgard, Odin heard the explosion, felt the anguished, enraged cry of his younger son, and smiled.
With all his strength, his power and his love, he hoped.
Maria resisted the urge to tap her foot in nervous anticipation as she was forcefully chained to a seat in the armoured van that would take her to California. She didn't know where, or when Coulson's intervention would come, but she made sure she was ready.
The shock of being told she was pregnant had only made her determined to escape. Before, she had accepted her punishment since she had betrayed SHIELD and put so many at risk because of her idiocy, but now…this was different.
She was protecting her child.
She had never possessed a maternal urge before. She was always so busy with work that she had never contemplated a husband, or a family of her own. She had nieces and nephews and that had been enough.
But now, to know that she had a living child growing inside of her, her baby…it changed things. There was no way in hell she would ever let SHIELD, the Council, or some crackpot scientist near her baby.
Thinking about the child invariably brought back memories of the night it was conceived. Memories Maria had spent long hours blocking out once he was taken back to Asgard and she was imprisoned.
She was surrounded by armed guards, her legs cuffed to the chair, her wrists bound together in front of her. She kept her gaze down, eyes closed, gathering all the rest she could before she would be on the run again.
It was then that she felt the most curious sensation, as if the restraints holding her were nothing more than paper chains, and she could tear them with ease. Energy suffused her, and she almost gasped from the exhilarating sensation.
It was cold…almost painfully so, but it made her blood rush in her ears. Unconsciously one finger grazed her abdomen…was it possible?
Could her child, only a month developed, be aiding her? After all, it was half-human, half Jotunn. Could she use its power even as it grew inside of her?
She dropped her finger, not meeting the suspicious eyes of her guards, and waited.
The intervention, when it came, was sudden and brutal. One moment they were driving along, the next the entire world toppled and spun over and over until the totalled truck came to a halt, the interior a disorientated mass of blood, bodies and pained groans.
Maria seized her chance, pushing away the slight pain she'd experienced momentarily as her head had connected with the headrest, hard. She pulled and the cuffs at her hands and feet gave way before her newfound strength.
One guard had recovered enough to grab his automatic rifle, raising it threateningly. "Stay where you are!" he yelled, pushing himself to his feet. Maria didn't hesitate.
Aided by her new strength, she reached for the gun even as he pulled the trigger. The bullet slammed into her palm, but it didn't even sting. She looked down to see the flattened metal fall from her bloodied palm, the skin repairing instantly.
So she was invincible now as well, was she?
Without waiting another beat, she grabbed the muzzle of the rifle, using the butt to knock the guard unconscious. A pair of arms grabbed her around the torso but she headbutted her assailant, before slipping free. Her heart racing in her ears, she picked up the barely conscious soldier and threw him through the truck doors.
Outside the road was a mess, two escort cars lying on their sides beside the totalled truck. Looking around her, she noted the arid landscape then the sea not far away, and the sprawling city.
Los Angeles.
Perfect. A city was best, so she could lose herself in the crowd until she could plan her next move. Looking behind her, she eyed the potential hiding places for Barton and Romanoff.
Smiling slightly, she nodded once, before turning away, grabbing a gun from the holster of a dead SHIELD agent, and began to run.
On their HUD, Barton and Romanoff watched with stunned expressions as Maria ran away.
They had both seen her throw the guard through the truck doors. They both looked to each other uneasily. Had they done the right thing?
Remembering Maria's farewell nod, Natasha hoped so.
Loki landed on Earth, the sky dark above him, the wind playing at the hem of his surcoat. Panting slightly from his trip through the secret pathways between Realms, he took a moment to breathe, his lip curling at the impure, tainted air of Midgard even as he did so.
He opened his eyes, already sending his mind out to search for hers, her familiar thoughts, ones he had so successfully infiltrated a month before. He wasn't sure where on Earth he was, but it seemed he was not far.
He could feel her, only ten miles away. With a predatory smile, he turned his gaze to the brightly lit city of Los Angeles.
As he made his way there, he wondered at the location. Barton had given him the locations of all SHIELD bases, operational and otherwise, but Los Angeles had not been on that list.
Had SHIELD set up a base there, in such a large and populous city? Or had they been transporting Maria to another location for the duration of the pregnancy? He could imagine that the SHIELD scientists were eager to get their hands on her and the child in her womb.
Had she escaped? He did not know what carrying a half human, half Jotunn child would do to her, what stresses it would place on her frail mortal body. He needed to find her and quickly. A brief smile flashed across his face; he'd told her she would bear his heir, after all.
After that…well, he looked forward to their reunion.
The empty, derelict house in a neighbourhood on the edge of town was not Maria's first choice of places to stay for the night, but with no money and only the clothes on her back and the gun tucked into the waistband of her jogging bottoms, she had no alternative. Besides, it was under SHIELD's radar, with no security cameras for them to hack into. She couldn't rely on Coulson, Barton, Rogers and Romanoff to bail her out of trouble again if she were recaptured.
She was glad at least that SHIELD furnished their long-term prisoners with a fleece jacket, since the light vest underneath would be no protection against the night air.
It took little effort, with her borrowed strength, to break the padlock on the doors, and slipped inside. It was quiet and dark but for the moonlight peeking through cracks and holes in the structure. Tarpaulin and building equipment littered the floors.
She decided to stay on the ground floor in case the upper floors were structurally unsound. Of course, if they were, she'd be crushed when they collapsed, but it was the lesser of two evils, and she more likely to hear any intruders.
Despite the strength coursing through her veins, she was tired, both mentally and emotionally. It had been a hard road from Coulson telling her about the pregnancy and the Council's plans for her, to the crash and her escape, and the long, arduous run to Los Angeles, ducking from cover to cover, waiting for the sound of a helicopter in pursuit, or a car engine. Any moment, she expected to feel the cold bite of a bullet through her skull or heart.
She doubted even her sudden invincibility would save her from that.
She actually felt tired enough to sleep, and sleep without dreaming. She made as good a bed as she could in the tarpaulin, made sure she had one hand on the gun in her waistband, and tried to ignore the growling of her stomach. She'd look for, or steal food, in the morning.
She closed her eyes and tried to sleep.
She should have known it was too good to be true. Of course, she couldn't go one night without dreaming about…him.
However this time felt…different. It brought to mind the times he had invaded her dreams to seduce and manipulate her.
No, this was no dream remembrance. This was the real thing.
She couldn't see him, her surroundings vague, indistinct mist, but she heard his voice, calling her.
Maria…
Maria, answer me…
She wouldn't. After the hell he'd made of her life, she wanted nothing more to do with him. Besides he was on Asgard…
But to her horror, she could feel him, drawing near, like a shadow in her mind. She struggled to wake up, so she could run, but he held her mind fast.
Where are you hiding?
Nowhere you'll find me, she thought defiantly. But he obviously heard her, because his familiar mocking, seductive chuckle filled her ears, reverberating through her body.
Do not count on it, sweetling…
She felt his touch in her mind, and she shuddered as he drew forth her memories, flashing across her inner vision like a movie on loop.
Watching as the portal was closed and Loki taken away by the Avengers. Being cuffed and taken into custody by a grim-faced Agent Romanoff.
The interrogation. The beatings. The drugs they used not only to heighten her pain but soften her resistance, but she never yielded.
The long days of monotony after the cessation of interrogation. The pain, the anger, the guilt.
Coulson, alive and well, standing before her cell. Coulson telling her she was pregnant and that she would have a chance to escape.
Telling her what they would do to her child if she didn't.
The crash. The feel of the guard's uniform once more beneath her fingers as she threw him through the truck doors.
The bullet hitting her palm. The skin healing itself once more before her eyes.
The trek to Los Angeles, the derelict house…
No, no, no…
The word echoed like a mantra in her head, as she felt Loki's mind leave hers-
She sat upright with a gasp, fighting free of the tendrils of nightmare, her body shaking and weak from the memories Loki had dragged from her subconscious, as her body remembered phantom sensations of pain and exhaustion. She was lucky she had not lost the child within the first few weeks.
Panting, she pulled her gun out, cocking it expertly in the darkness. She couldn't see, the moon long past its zenith, and the dawn approaching. She couldn't feel Loki anymore, but…
She knew he was there.
"Hello, Maria," his familiar voice, both despised and yearned for, filled Maria with dread as she twisted around in her bed of tarpaulin.
Loki.
He was stood only mere feet away, dressed in the long leather surcoat, tunic, leather trousers and boots in which she had last seen him, his long hair slicked back as usual, his viridian eyes gleaming hungrily.
However his trademark amused smile was nonexistent as he took in her dishevelled appearance, and wan face, and stepped forwards.
Maria moved. "Stay the hell away from me!" she yelled, raising her gun and taking a shot even as she knew it would simply bounce off of him, unharmed. She scrambled backwards, the tarpaulin rustling beneath her.
"Maria," he started forward, knocking the gun from her grasp as she forced herself upright. Immediately she threw a punch, clipping that annoyingly chiselled jaw. He caught her fist, using her momentum to spin her around and into his arms, holding her tightly, his strong arms wrapped around her. "Maria, calm. You do not want to harm the child."
"The child took four weeks of torture, I think they can mange a few more minutes while I kick your ass!" she hissed, struggling in his grip. He had seen the memories, he knew, and he would personally take great pleasure in hunting down and destroying those who had harmed her.
He also knew that somehow the child Maria carried had imbued her with the strength and healing capabilities of…well, not a mortal. That was the only reason the child hadn't been lost within the first few weeks of the pregnancy.
Now that healing was extended to the mother too.
He simply tightened his grip and held on as she struggled, putting forth his magic to soothe and calm her panic, making her limbs heavy, as she slowly sank further into his embrace, her weight against his body. His, so exquisitely his.
"That's it," he breathed in her arm. "Calm, Maria, my sweetling. You're safe now."
Abruptly, he doubled over, forced to release her as she elbowed him in the groin, but this time with the force of a Jotunn. She backed away while he struggled to stand upright, a groan leaving his lips.
"You arrogant bastard," she snarled. "I was safe before. Hell, I was safe and fine until you bloody showed up a month ago! I am not giving in to you again."
"I beg to differ," he hissed, his eyes now alight with anger and something far more primal. It made Maria shiver behind the toughened exterior she masked herself with, and it brought home how very much she still was his. "You belong to me, Maria Hill, and no other."
Maria laughed bitterly. "So you left me to rot in prison, at the hands of SHIELD's best interrogators. Well, being 'yours' really doesn't have much to recommend it, does it?" she snapped caustically. "Consider this my resignation."
He chuckled, as he stood tall before her, not even bothering to try and stop her flight. "That is irrelevant," he growled. "Nothing has changed."
In her heart Maria knew that all too well. Which was why she sure as hell was not going to let him take her in his arms again, let alone anything…else.
Which was obviously what Loki was planning.
"Don't even think about it," she hissed through gritted teeth. "I don't want anything to do with you. Period."
"I'm afraid you don't have a choice in the matter," he replied coolly, his voice slipping into that warning cadence she remembered well. "Especially since you now carry my child. You belong to me, and it is as simple as that."
"Stop it," she retorted, but it was weaker this time. She continued to back away, even as Loki stopped, his hands outstretched almost pleadingly, his eyes wide and haunted. "Don't even try the innocent look. It doesn't suit you."
"Why do you run from me?" he asked, in a quiet, hurt voice that made Maria both bristle and melt. God, she hated him! "I who have loved you and sought to give you everything, which by the way you did absolutely nothing to assist me in…"
"Sorry if I didn't fancy helping to enslave my own species," she snarled, regaining some of her own fire. And she ran from him because his hands were poison, his lips were poison, his words were poison. Once he came too near, her reason would be stripped from her, and her control with it.
She burned for it. She desperately searched for some way out of this situation, but she could see none. She couldn't defeat Loki, even with her newfound strength, and she couldn't go to SHIELD for help.
She was on her own.
Loki chuckled, and shook his dark head, the moonlight silvering the long locks and making Maria long to bury her hands in them once more.
"How did you find me anyway? And how did you know about the-?" she asked, desperate to hold off his assault. He cocked one fine brow superciliously, a knowing glint in his emerald eyes.
"Heimdall, the gatekeeper of Asgard informed my…Thor of the development, and he informed me. I was forced to extricate myself from the All-Father's custody to come to you," he explained, not faltering in his slow, seductive stalk towards her. "And in any case, you cannot remain here. Here, you will be hunted and isolated, your life in danger because of the mortals' bumbling excuses for medicine."
"And that's it? After everything you just waltz back into my life and carry me off into the sunset?" she scoffed, cynically.
"And you will do nothing to stop me," he continued, his voice a low murmur, caressing her skin as he drew nearer and nearer. "You want it. You want me, crave me and the pleasure I gave you during that one brief night. Except this time, you shall have it forever."
"I hate you! I want nothing to do with you!" she snapped, as he came too close, her hand shooting out to backhand him across the jaw. He stopped, winced and then eyed her darkly.
"I tire of this, Maria," he warned her angrily. "Strike me again and you may not like where that will lead us."
"I'm pregnant. I'm hormonal," she retorted. "Get used to it."
"I think not," he snarled, his hands reaching for her before she could react, and she was forced to him, his voice trickling into her ear.
"Again you fight for a control you yearn to release," he hissed, his voice a seduction all of its own, without the added temptation of his body so close to hers. Her body ached for his. "Give it to me. Let everything go, and come back to me, my Maria. My sweetling."
His lips pressed against her cheek, and she shuddered violently. She pushed away, but only stumbled back two steps, her back to him, hiding her face, her conflict. But her body trembled with the strain of the day, and she didn't try to shrug him off when his arms came around her, holding her tightly, one hand splayed over her still flat abdomen, where their child grew.
For the first time, she let herself think of it as theirs.
"You've been so strong, Maria. Let me protect you, let me care for you now," he whispered in her ear. Let me love you…
The thought flitted across Loki's brain too quickly for him to truly process it, and it slipped into the ether before he could recall it.
"To be your slave? Your mindless bed warmer? I'd rather go back to SHIELD," she scoffed weakly.
"No, never that," he retorted fiercely. "But as simply mine."
He leant down, his lips pressing against her cheek with every word. "Let me have you again. Let me in."
Maria felt the constant, seductive pressure of his kisses, and felt her will crumble. Willingly, she let him turn her head, so their lips met, his tongue meeting hers in a deep, but gentle kiss.
He turned her around fully in his arms, pulling her length against him, as their kiss turned harder, more urgent. She gripped the lapels of his surcoat as he backed her into a wall, moaning against her lips as she gasped.
"Touch me," he told her, but this time it came out more of a plea than a command. He'd berate himself for it later.
Her hands shot up to his hair, lovingly caressing it, as she arched her head back invitingly, submitting to his lustful caresses and mouth. That wonderful, intoxicating feeling of surrender made her moan into their joined mouths, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. He lifted her into his arms, pressing her body back against the hard surface behind her, her legs instinctively tangling around his waist.
His lips dropped to her neck, harshly biting the slender, pale column of flesh as she arched and writhed against him. It seemed hormones didn't only make her violent…
"Wait, not here," he gasped, pulling away from her heated, luscious mouth with a deep groan as his body objected. She met his eyes and nodded, not questioning him as he passed his hands over her body, a shiver of chilling cold rushing over her skin as he used his magic. "A glamour, so no one can recognise you," he told her in a growl. He did the same to himself, and she blinked as for one moment, his features were overlaid by another's, black replaced by blonde, green eyes by brown, chiselled features by more ordinary looking ones.
She blinked again and the illusion dissipated.
"It will not work on you, sweetling. Only you," he told her, with one final searching kiss, making her moan and reach up for him once more. He broke off, reminding himself of control. "Come."
She couldn't help but be nervous as he led her into the business district of Los Angeles, and into one of its most exclusive hotels, getting them a top notch suite with just a wave of his hand.
She kept expecting SHIELD agents to burst in through the nearest exit at any moment, sure they'd have facial recognition software going, on every communications device in America.
But they did not, and Loki's hand was tight around her own until the door to their suite closed behind them.
Then she was abruptly spun around, into his arms, and his lips fell to hers, his control at its furthest limits. She groaned and gave herself up to the exquisite feeling of his body, his hands, dominating her entirely as he tugged off her clothing, impatiently allowing her to do the same. His eyes darkened at the sight of the still fading bruises and healing cuts on her once flawless skin, and his hands gentled slightly.
"Don't!" she panted. "Don't treat me like china. Not now."
Wordlessly, he gave in, his hands and kisses returning to their previous demanding state, as he pushed her down onto the bed, lifting her thigh over his hip and pressing in. She moaned and arched at that familiar, missed feeling of fullness, his own groan as her nails flexed into his back, devoured by her lips.
Maria was stirred awake by the feel of familiar hands roaming her body, the chilling wave of magic accompanying their explorations, as she shifted and sank deeper into the horrendously comfortable bed beneath them.
"What are you doing?" she asked, softly, as he pressed a kiss to her shoulder when he saw she was awake.
"Healing the last of the bruises. I am somewhat thankful I did not enjoy such hospitality from SHIELD during my stay," he replied coolly, pressing a hungry kiss to the last.
"I think you missed one up here," Maria gestured to the livid purple mark his mouth had left on her neck, but he just grinned wickedly.
"Ah but that is one of my own making," he murmured huskily, caressing it as she arched beneath his. "That is a decidedly different matter."
"Loki," she breathed, as he gently tucked a trailing strand of her hair behind her ear. "What do we do now?"
"You cannot stay on Earth. Soon, you shall be as hunted as I am for the child growing inside of you," he replied firmly. "Asgard will grant you sanctuary, if you so wish."
"But I don't understand," she frowned. "If I go there, won't your foster father just lock you up again?"
"I rather think the All-Father has been manipulating me from the start," Loki replied, pulling her into his arms. She slumped against him comfortably, closing her eyes as he stroked her hair possessively. "He purposely left a weakness in the chains binding my power. He knew that I would be break free once I learned of your predicament. Much as I hate throwing myself on his mercy, I fear we have little choice either way."
"Perhaps he knew you were not irredeemable," Maria murmured, letting the need for more sleep pull her back under. "That there is good in you still, no matter how much you try to fight it."
Loki didn't answer, but his arms tightened around her, making her smirk victoriously. His voice in her ear, peeved and warning, almost woke her up again with laughter.
"If you're smirking at me, sweetling, I will punish you for it."
She didn't bother answering, just nuzzled deeper into her lover's arms and let sleep take her.
She supposed, drowsily, that in all reality she should have woken up and run away at the first opportunity. But even if she had…he was still the father of her child. She was stuck with him either way. May as well make the most of it.
Maria tried not to let her jaw drop as she looked around the golden chamber she been left in, when she and Loki had arrived back on Asgard. The whole Realm was beyond anything Maria could have imagined, and the amused, superior look on Loki's face hadn't been able to ruin it for her.
As for Loki's foster family…she'd already met Thor, so she was used to him as he bowed over her hand, but the All-Father and Queen Frigga were something else.
They radiated power in the same way Loki did, one ancient, wise and untouchable, the other warm, loving and gentle as the Queen had stretched out the hand of friendship to her son's lover.
After that, she had been hurried away, leaving Loki with his father and brother, surrounded by guards, and she worried that might be the last she saw of him.
She sat down heavily on the bed in the chamber, draped in emerald green damask with silver accents, both soft and rough at once beneath her palms. Directly opposite her was a wide balcony, looking out over the palace, the city and the ocean beyond to the stars.
Her eyes traced every one, immersed entirely when Frigga returned with a soft, understanding smile.
It deepened when Maria turned and respectfully asked. "Where is Loki?"
"Still with my husband and Thor," she replied gently. "They have much to discuss, especially as Loki still has many crimes to atone for."
"Will he be returned to prison?" Maria asked carefully. If he was, she'd do her damned hardest to get him out.
Frigga's smile was knowing as she eyed the woman who was literally the hope of them all. The one woman who could restrain Loki.
"I do not know," she admitted, her silken skirts shushing quietly as she sat down opposite Maria. She gestured to the flat expanse of Maria's stomach. "May I?"
She nodded, and the Queen's hand reached out, smoothing over the hard muscle. Maria gasped as she felt a flash of ice-cold chill, deep inside of her.
"Your child is a strong one," Frigga smiled. "Already her power grows."
"Her? A girl?" Maria breathed in wonder. For a moment, her hard exterior cracked and she smiled freely.
"She has two remarkable parents," the Queen told her. "I love my sons dearly, and seeing them fight so nearly broke my heart. I allowed my husband to dictate my actions even as my heart counselled me to another course. Do not do the same. Be a better mother than I."
"That's a tall order," Maria gulped, looking away.
"You do not allow Loki to dictate to you outside of your bed, do you?" Frigga asked bluntly, and although Maria was highly embarrassed, she met the Asgardian's gaze squarely. "No. He likes to think so, but he's male. Self-delusion is their prerogative."
Frigga laughed, covering her mouth with one hand. "Oh, my dear. I think my son is well in hand with you," she said, still chuckling. "There is much darkness in Loki. You must be prepared for it."
Maria thought back to their first meeting, the dreams that followed, and the events after. Oh yes, she was very much aware, and prepared as she could be.
"Prepared for what?" Loki's voice echoed from the doorway, where he leant casually, watching the two women intently. "What horror stories has she been telling you?"
Maria hid how elated the sudden appearance of Loki made her, but she still smiled welcomingly.
"None that she does not already know," Frigga said airily, rising to her feet, stopping before her son, who towered over her. "I am glad you are home."
Loki did not reach out to her, but his eyes softened visibly. With a smile, Frigga left, leaving the unlikely couple alone.
He looked towards Maria, sat on his bed, changed from her worn Earth clothing into a light Asgardian dress, her long, ebony hair loose around her shoulders. She was here, in his bed, and she would always be.
He had once said, in his folly and conceit, that the only hand by which she would die would be his own. Well, now she would live forever, because he would never harm a hair on her head. Never.
Thor and Odin had released him from his imprisonment, however he was restricted to the confines of Asgard, and his magic was still mostly bound now he was back in the palace. It would be returned to him once they were sure his redemption, as they put it, was progressing.
He had not redeemed himself fully by going to Earth to protect what was his, but he had started upon that road. As he looked at Maria, he felt the first stirrings of contentment.
Heavens above, he was going soft! With a disgusted grimace at himself, he marched over to where Maria was sat, pulling her into his arms and kissing her passionately.
She moaned and pulled him closer, eagerly, freely, offering all of herself to him. In that white dress, she almost looked the part of a sacrificial maiden on some alter of Old, and he fully intended to make the most of that illusion.
He felt the spark of power deep within her, from their child, and pushed away the urge to ponder the future.
As Maria arched beneath him, lovingly surrendering her body to him, her soft voice, "My King…" echoing in his ears, he perhaps pondered the idea that Thor had suggested.
That all the glory and the control he had ever craved was here, in Maria's arms. In a woman who was not afraid to give it up to him, and yet retained her fire and her spirit. Despite his efforts, he had not broken her.
And he never would.
He had once told her she didn't have a choice. But the truth was, neither did he.
Meeting Maria's wide, lust glazed eyes, he grinned darkly.
He was still the God of Mischief. He had a reputation to uphold, after all, but it could all go on hold for awhile. He had a sinking feeling Maria would keep him in line, and for all his possessive, domineering ways, she had a backbone of steel and the stubbornness to match his own.
It certainly would not be boring, with her at his side. And he would never let her go.
Control was a double-edged sword, and Loki was fast learning how little choice he had. He had reached out and, in taking and corrupting Maria, he had fallen himself under her control himself.
He supposed it was only ironic that the only woman to truly rule him would be a mortal.
And he couldn't really find it in him to care.
He was pulled from his ruminations by Maria's hand sharply tugging his hair, pressed beneath him as she was.
"Whatever it is, stop thinking it," she hissed breathlessly. He chuckled, and bent his head.
"Whatever you command, sweetling," he whispered before he kissed her, wiping away thought for both of them, losing himself in her entirely.
Finis
A/N: This dedicated to all my lovely reviewers from 'Within My World'. I hope you enjoyed :)