Author's Note: *I do not own anything recognizable as belonging to Marvel.* The standard warnings apply. That being said, while this does function within the existing canon stories of The Avengers and eventually Thor/Thor 2, it is an independent story. I hope I do justice to the characters and I do appreciate critique and reviews. I will tell you now so I don't get bombarded about it later- THIS WILL NOT RECEIVE REGULAR UPDATES! I will be waiting to add too much more until Thor 2 comes out in November, so I'm afraid that if you find you do like it you will have to wait for gratification. Enjoy!
Dr. Adrienne Emelia Hawthorne scowled in disgust at the people moving about the hall of the museum she was standing in. It made no sense to her to host a fundraiser for a hospital in a museum, but she could admit that it was a beautiful building. The granite walls and white marble floors were a stunning backdrop for the wealth of colorful silks and jewels adorning the guests- members of the elite, the rich and powerful. Off in some corner a string quartet played, and any other night she would have surrendered to the calming effect of the music. Great columns reached to the floor of the gallery that ran all the way around the second floor of the hall. If you cared to look, you would find stained glass windows depicting great thrones from centuries past set into the walls off the main hall. At the back of the hall was a massive marble staircase that wound up to the gallery to both the left and right. Adrienne had tried to hide in its shadow earlier in the night, but she was pulled back out onto the floor to mingle. Presently she was back in the shadow of the staircase, partially hidden in a corner.
She did not attend this soirée willingly, no matter how much she enjoyed having an occasion to get dressed up. If Matthew and Sarah, partners and financial directors of her charity, hadn't directly threatened her with forced vacation time outside of Mali, she would not be suffering the foolish men who kept attempting to flirt with her. For some reason they seemed to have it in their heads that she was available for the taking, and that their money somehow made them a great catch. She had fallen for that routine once before, but never would again. Her scowl deepened as she took a swig of her champagne, all the while wishing it was something stronger. She spent the entirety of these stupid events fending off would-be suitors even as she tried to persuade them to donate their money to her work. It was despicable how low these men thought she was.
She knew perfectly well that for many of these people, this was no more than an event at which to see and be seen- both in fashion and in a vain attempt to make people think they were charitable. It was all a show; one she detested. Glancing to the right, she saw Dr. Heinrich Schäfer ambling up next to her. He was the guest speaker and an old friend. The man was aging, but he still had that spark of life about him- the one that had saved her- that was difficult to ignore.
"Your displeasure begins to show on your face. Don't hate them too much, my dear. They do not understand their own stupidity." His English was very good, accented though it was. She smirked as he handed her a flask he had hidden in his jacket. She poured the amber liquid into her now empty champagne flute before returning it. The liquid was fire down her throat- good Scottish whiskey. Adrienne glanced over at him. At 5'10" he would have normally stood a good deal taller than her- a few inches at least. Tonight, the added height from her massive shoes, made them nearly matched.
"I know. Sometimes the ones who are truly generous and kind make up for the others, but you know how very much I dislike these events. There are too many people, and too many false smiles. I would rather be home with my kids."
"I know, and you will be soon. Sarah has them?" Adrienne nodded. Matthew had accompanied her to Germany while Sarah remained in Mali to watch the kids and keep the hospital running smoothly. "I'm going to be giving my speech in a half hour, then you can slip away. It will be our secret." She genuinely smiled at him and laughed at his conspiratorial grin. He had been a mentor to her at one point in her life; an indispensable and very necessary helping hand when life had decided to kick her ass. She knew she could never repay him for all of his kindness toward her and her kids.
"Tell Petra I said hello, and that I will visit her next time I am in Germany. Alec and Julianne send their love. They miss you both." They both knew it would be a long time before that happened, but he nodded anyway and gave her messages for the children before he strode back into the crowd, leaving her alone in her corner once again.
Loki looked down upon the people in the hall below with utter disdain. Look at them all. They've no idea how pitiable they are. He caught sight of his target in a corner on the far side of the hall. Dr. Schäfer was speaking to a woman who stood half in the shadows, as though she tried to hide. What he could see of her told him she looked nearly as miserable as Loki himself felt. Oh yes, some part of him was gleeful at the chaos he was about to stir up, but another part truly hated these people his once-brother fought so hard to protect. Loki sneered at that thought. Soon Thor would be in as much pain as he, and then his once-brother would begin to understand just the tip of the betrayal he and the Allfather had played.
Loki was distracted from his dark thoughts as he heard part of what the man was saying. His senses were far better than those of these tiny Midgardians, making his position on the gallery overlooking the hall an advantage. He smirked. Just 30 more minutes, he thought gleefully. Loki was distracted again, this time by the woman. She had smiled at something Dr. Schäfer had said, Loki didn't know what, so caught up was he in thoughts of his plans. Her following peal of laughter rose above the din of the hall and sent a disturbing rush of blood to his groin.
She was already rather pretty, he was forced to admit. For a Midgardian, at least. But this smile, so open, so obviously joyful, it made her quite near to stunningly beautiful. This observation more than a little unnerved the God of Mischief, almost as much as the increasing discomfort of his trousers. He inspected her more closely. The woman cut a fine figure in the black gown she wore, the material hugging her curves in all the right places, and flowing to the ground in a soft cascade of satin. Her hair was a strange color he had never seen before. It seemed to be comprised diverse strands of the lightest of blondes, richest of reds, and darkest of blacks. It was piled atop her head in some sort of plait. He could tell that there was quite a lot of it, but wondered just how far down her back it fell. It was a bit unusual when so many of these so-called "modern women" cut it all off. Her features, so unlike those on any Midgardian he had ever seen, made him wonder if this woman was not from another realm- Álfheimr perhaps- or mayhap one of her ancestors was. Her high cheekbones and arched brows certainly spoke to that of the light elves, as did her blemish-less alabaster skin that was very near as pale as his own, but not so pallid, he thought. Her eyes were almond shaped, though he could not tell the color from where he stood. They glinted with an intelligence and keen sense of observation as they darted about the hall that he saw in so very few mortals.
It disturbed Loki to think he might find this woman so beautiful, particularly if she was one of these lowly mortals. He tried to shake off the unnerving and unexpected feelings as he forced his gaze back to his target, who was presently meandering back into the throng of people in the hall, leaving the woman alone in the corner. He shook his head. She was of no importance to his plans, and thus of no importance at all.
Loki was once again distracted from his task a few minutes later by the woman, who was presently moving out of her corner in the shadow of the staircase, seemingly to get away from the men who had accosted her there. He moved around the gallery to the balcony overlooking the staircase. She ascended the curving marble with all the fury and grace of the Valkyries flying over a battlefield. Her gown swirled about her legs and blew back behind her- mysteriously reminding him of black ink flowing through water- as it revealed a slit on the left side that had been hidden when she stood still. Now though, it exposed every exquisite inch of skin and well defined muscle on her left leg.
Loki could do nothing but stare in stunned silence. He numbly realized he was acting like a fresh-faced youth gazing at a woman for the first time, but he could not take his eyes off of her. She reached the gallery at the top of the stairs and froze before him, a startled expression on her face. She was beautiful before, but up close, she was a vision of perfection and power. He realized then that she was not as tall as she had appeared next to Dr. Schäfer, for her shoes easily added 3 or 4 inches to her height. She could impale me with those shoes, he thought morosely. They looked deadly, sporting tiny little straps that held them to her feet and heels thin as the blades of his knives she could topple off of any moment.
Her eyes, which were lined in kohl and covered in some kind of coppery sparkles, ensnared him and held him firmly rooted to the spot. Set widely in her heart-shaped face, they were the most alluring design- like the sun or a star had been captured within each one and was surrounded by blue sky. So wide and expressive, they drew him in until he thought he might drown in their depths. He balked. This was not how a prince, no, a king should behave! She must have some magic she is using to put these thoughts in my head, he thought desperately, and was suddenly furious. Someone has discovered my plans! Well, you won't stop me just yet, whoever you are, he thought as a devilish grin snaked its way across his lips.
Adrienne had had enough! Another guy had just crept into her corner in an effort to get her to go home with him. She didn't know what it was about her that drew them like moths to a flame, but she wasn't going to stand for it any more tonight. She made for the staircase leading up to the gallery above. It will be quiet up there, she thought. It's not like I'm really hiding. I'll be back down before Heinrich's speech. She shrugged as she started to ascend the stairs, being careful to not step on the front of her dress. She glanced up as she reached the landing and froze. Standing there was the most beautiful Adonis of a man she had ever seen. He wore a tuxedo of an older cut, almost Victorian, which fit him to absolute perfection, highlighting the long, powerful muscle beneath. He was remarkably tall and lean, not at all bulky, but the muscle and power were shown in the way he held his body, filling out his suit with startling ease.
She took him in, working her way up from his expensive leather shoes. It was obvious the man was rich by the fine clothes he wore, but his green silk scarf embroidered in fine gold thread, and gold walking stick with a massive blue gem would have driven home the point anyway. His hands were slim and delicate, with the long fingers of a pianist, but he held them in such a way as to make it obvious they concealed just as much power as the rest of him. It practically rolled off him in waves. He was, she mused, a man out of another time.
His face was, of course, remarkably fair, almost to the point where she would call him beautiful. He had high cheekbones that could have been cut from the same marble as the floor, and dark brows that arched both harshly and gracefully over the most exquisite and curiously colored eyes she had ever seen. They were of such a shade that she continuously wondered if they were blue or green. His hair was a lush black that fell to his collar and curled away from it. Adrienne had the urge to run her fingers through it to see if it was really as soft as it looked. Too bad he's got it gelled back from his face, she thought rather suddenly, then admonished herself for the thought. This was just the sort of man she had been trying to avoid all night. But he's nothing like those idiots, is he Adrienne, the darker part of her mind whispered. No he wasn't, he was dangerous, but she was not about to admit it.
She shivered involuntarily. This man stirred up a heat inside her that no man had touched in a very long time. She felt like there were little flames running all over her body beneath over-sensitive flesh. She was quite sure if he had come on to her like so many of the other men this evening had, she would have welcomed his advances instead of scorning them. A suspiciously quiet part of her mind reminded her why she didn't like men like him- gorgeous men who knew a single twist of their beautiful mouths could fell a woman across a room; men with too much arrogance and ego- but she could not look away.
It took her a moment, but after she recovered from her shock, she wondered why he hadn't moved. It was then that she realized those beautiful eyes were doing exactly the same thing to her she had been doing to him, and he was still looking. His heated gaze made her feel as though she was being undressed with nothing but his eyes roving over her body. It wasn't an entirely unpleasant feeling.
Adrienne knew the moment he recovered from whatever had held him so still, and she was afraid of the predatory glint she saw in his eyes, suddenly as sharp as cut sapphires. She started to take a step back down the stairs before she remembered her dress and nearly lost her footing as the heel of her shoe was caught in the satin. She gripped the banister as he drew near to her, completely invading her personal space and trapping her against the balcony above the stairs.
"You may tell whoever sent you, little one, that they are too late to stop my plans for this night." His words sent a chill down her spine for reasons Adrienne could not consciously articulate. His voice was like velvet, but the threat implicit in his words swiftly squashed her burgeoning attraction for the man, replacing it with fear and anger, and the anger was rapidly becoming dominant. She had no idea who this man was, but he was clearly an arrogant and egotistical fool, touched repeatedly, she thought, with the crazy stick. Adrienne had had enough for one night; that's why she was headed up-stairs in the first place, she remembered. She didn't have to listen to this shit from another stupid rich boy.
Adrienne smacked him hard across his beautiful face then shoved him away from her, a little concerned when he only took two small steps back, a look of complete and utter shock on his face. Bet you've never had that happen, have you, she thought smugly. Adrienne pulled herself up to her full height, squaring her shoulders and taking advantage of every extra centimeter her shoes gave her. She still had to crane her neck to look him in the eye as she stepped forward, now invading his personal space. This guy is a freaking giant, she thought wondrously.
"I don't know who you are, and I don't know who you seem to think I am, but I do hope you enjoy the rest of my party, albeit as far from me as you can possibly find yourself," she said to him, letting equal parts steel and syrupy sugar leak into her voice. "I would however give you a piece of advice for attending events in the future. Next time, don't make it a point to insult and threaten the host. You may find you are no longer welcome." She sauntered past him with as much grace and dignity as she could muster, knowing all the while her words were not what she should have said, but she was beyond caring. So help her God, if he followed her she would not be responsible for her actions.
Loki was absolutely floored. In all of his centuries of life he had not encountered this reaction from a woman. He'd been struck by the Lady Sif, but she was a warrior and he knew he deserved her ire. This was wholly different. He briefly wondered if he had mistaken her purpose here tonight, then discarded the idea. It still took him a minute to recover enough of his wits to go after her. Loki schooled his features into something resembling remorse, though it was difficult as it was not an emotion he was naturally inclined towards. He grabbed her wrist forcing her to stop. Her skin was as soft as it looked and rather cool to the touch. Another shot of desire wormed its way to his groin, momentarily throwing him off balance. She turned so fast he almost didn't catch her other hand before she slapped him again. He smiled a small smile that barely touched his lips as she struggled to get away from him.
"Release me," she hissed.
"Are you going to attempt to strike me again?" he purred. Fury flared in the depths of her eyes and she struggled a little more before he pulled her flush against his body, twisting one arm behind her back to hold her still, pressing her curves into him with the added pressure of his cane angled across her back. A hint of her subtle perfume wafted past his nose and he almost released her as he reveled in the sweet smell. This one was going to be a problem.
For a moment, Loki thought she had conceded control, but that thought rapidly left him as the wicked spike of her shoe connected with his left instep. This time he did release her as he hissed in pain, but only long enough for her to take a few steps back. He still had a firm grip around her left wrist.
"While I admire your spirit, that, my dear, was not wise." Even as she fought him and caused him pain, Loki found this woman to be far too arousing for his peace of mind, not that he had that much to begin with.
Adrienne nearly growled. She was beyond pissed off. This man had gone far further than any other; this could probably be called assault. She wondered why she didn't scream for help, but part of her, a part she wanted very strongly to kick into silence, wanted to show him she was strong enough to take care of herself. She knew from experience that no matter what they said, men did not like strong, independent women.
She knew he was aroused, had no doubts what had pressed against her belly when he pulled her close. She wondered how far he would go, and it was to her endless mortification that despite these thoughts and his behavior, Adrienne was also very aroused, almost painfully so. Unlike him though, she had no intention of giving in to her desire. It warred with her sense of self-preservation, particularly at his foreboding words.
"I don't give a damn what you admire," she hissed back at him. "Release me, before I call security to throw you out." She stood as tall and imperious as she could considering he was at least four inches taller than her, and that was in her massive heels.
"You should. I can make your life very miserable. Or, I could make it very short. I'm sure S.H.I.E.L.D. won't miss you if you get caught by your target so easily." To her surprise he did release her, despite what she belatedly realized was a threat to either torture or kill her. She massaged her wrist where she knew a bruise would form. It was probably a small miracle it wasn't broken.
"You are batshit crazy, you know that? I have no idea what the hell you think is going on here, but I think you need to find your way back to whatever psych ward you came from." He laughed at her! He actually laughed at her. "What the hell are you laughing at?" she fumed.
"Tell me, out of idle curiosity, what is your cover? Who are you pretending to be?" She just stared at him. There was no way this gorgeous, super-model of a man was so far gone as to think she was some sort of spy. She groaned and took a few steps backwards, running her hand across her forehead.
"That's just my luck isn't it? You really can pick 'em, Adri," she muttered to herself.
"You do feign ignorance well," he drawled, seemingly bored.
"That might be because I'm not feigning anything," she bit back venomously. "Who the hell are you?" Adrienne demanded, completely exasperated. She took a few more steps backward toward the gallery railing, totally forgetting about the back of her dress and having to catch herself on the rail when she tripped.
"Ha! As if you didn't know. Well, little one, if you insist on this charade, I'll play along. I do love games." He took a step toward her and bowed in a mockery of regality that spoke to ingrained training on how to do it right. "I am Loki, formerly of Asgard." Now it was her turn to laugh. She knew it infuriated him, but the expression of self-righteous indignation on his face just made her laugh harder.
"You must truly be out of your mind if you think I'd believe that." She wiped tears of mirth off her cheeks, careful not to smudge her eyeliner and mascara. "Thank you for the laugh though."
"Why, foolish mortal, might that be?" That question brought on a fresh wave of laughter. Adrienne finally brought herself under control after he took a few steps closer to her, raising his walking stick. He might be crazy, but in her book that just made him more dangerous.
"As a child, I too was quite fond of the myths of the Gods and the nine realms, but that is what they are, stories. Hell, I read them to my children as bedtime stories, but I have not believed in them for many years." Now she saw a hint of amusement in his gaze. Amusement and something she could not identify. He drew near and leaned against the railing a few feet away from her, and this time she didn't move away, crazy as that made her.
"Who are you?" He asked simply, that same unidentifiable emotion rolling around in his gaze as he searched her face. For what, she didn't know. Adrienne shrugged and held out her hand after a moment.
"Dr. Adrienne Hawthorne- surgeon, charity worker, and apparently attractor of crazy men." He stared at her hand a moment before taking it and raising it to his lips, a challenge in his gaze. She held it, but pulled her hand back quickly after he released it. Now that she wasn't being manhandled, she found his hands to be soft and warm. She enjoyed them touching her way too much for the sake of comfort or propriety. Who's going to see you Adrienne? "Are you going to tell me who you really are?" He gave her that smirk again.
"I already have."
Adrienne rolled her eyes to the ceiling in a confusing, but amusing, gesture. Or so Loki thought. Adrienne. Such a beautiful name, and with such a meaning, he thought idly. I wonder if you will live up to it. He had be loath to release her, but had to admit to himself it was wise to do so, if also a little selfish. Her touch did too many things to him, made him feel as though he was losing control. The simple fact that she made him feel at all was enough to bother him. At the same time, though he knew he could deter anyone who came at her call, he wanted her all to himself.
Loki was amused by her statement. She claimed not to believe in these "stories," and yet here she stood, talking to a god. The irony was not lost on him, but he did once again question the existence of intelligence in this realm. He was curious about what she had said about children- her children. He filed that away for later contemplation and use.
"You believe I lie about my identity," he responded, a mischievous smirk playing at the corners of his lips. She rolled her eyes to the ceiling again. What is it she seeks up there? he wondered.
"I believe, if that is who you believe you are, you really do need a referral to a psych ward, and really? I'm not that kind of doctor." The corner of her mouth lifted in the smallest of smiles as she glanced at him. He was slightly amused at her reference, and the thought of displaying his power to her brought a small answering smile to his face, but decided that would spoil the events of the evening, and he could not afford to have them interrupted. The Titan would certainly not be pleased if the Teseract could not maintain a stable bridge as the Chitauri came to Midgard. Besides, he was quite enjoying this game. He shrugged a shoulder in a motion that could only be described as elegant.
"Perhaps, or perhaps I merely do not yet wish my identity to be revealed." He let her mull that over, wondering if she saw the hint of truth manipulating the statement, then he continued on a different trail of conversation. "You mentioned this was your party," he hedged. He knew perfectly well who was hosting this event, so he was curious why he couldn't read a lie in her previous statement. She startled and grimaced. Perhaps she knows I have caught her in a lie. Loki did not expect her words nor the clear ring of truth they had.
"You could say that. My friend, Dr. Heinrich Schäfer, is hosting the event. He's the guest speaker as well, but the fundraiser is for my charity." She crossed her arms and scowled down at the people in the hall below. To him, she looked proud and displayed as much regality as he might expect from his mother, or perhaps his aunt, Frejya, both queens of great realms. Even in her displeasure she displayed power and courage. He did not know how to respond to her words however.
"I take it you do not enjoy these events." She rolled her eyes. Clearly it was a motion she did often, though he still could not fathom its meaning.
"Ha! I appreciate the funds and the small number of people who actually care about the work we do in Mali, but most of these people, as I'm sure you are well aware," she looked at him pointedly, "are not here because they care. They seem to be under the… misguided impression that women who run charities are so desperate for money they'll go home with any rich boy with a checkbook." She raised her brows at him sardonically and he had the uncomfortable impression she was referring to the incident a few minutes before. For some reason, that bothered him more than he thought it should. He didn't like the idea that she associated him with the mortal men who had accosted her earlier in the evening. He was sure she was a spy, if not for S.H.I.E.L.D., then for one of his immortal enemies, for she certainly had magic aplenty. Loki could not however hear even a hint of a lie in her words- not even one of omission. He began to internally panic, scouring the hall for any hint of Asgard or S.H.I.E.L.D. and found none. It was difficult to believe his judgment had erred so far, but he could find no reasonable alternative; he was mistaken about this woman's identity. Grasping at anything he could, Loki asked about the only connection he was positive about- she knew his target.
"You are acquainted with our host and speaker. His speech will be soon, will it not?" There was that smile again. It transformed her face and drove-out all ability for him to form coherent thought as another pang of desire knifed its way through him to his groin. Loki frowned and tried to brush it away, a sinking feeling growing in the pit of his stomach. He had no idea how anyone could have known he would be here tonight since he himself did not know until today, but this had to be the connection that eluded him.
"Yes, Heinrich and I are old friends. His company is a partner in the hospital and the single largest financial contributor. Sometimes I think tonight, hosting this in Germany was a ploy for him to get me to visit. These days I only leave Mali when I have no other choice. He and Petra miss us, I know." Loki was surprised by both her words and the curious wondering look she gave him. "I don't know why I'm telling you all this. Especially not after what happened earlier. It's so strange." She looked at him a moment longer then glanced away, a blush coloring her cheeks. He wondered if she wasn't as calm and collected as she appeared on the outside, but decided that while it pleased a part of his brain that didn't deserve acknowledgment, it was as it should be. He was after all a God. His hand twitched up to touch her again before he realized what he was doing and wrenched his gaze away from her. Before he could take his leave however, she turned to face him fully and inclined her head.
"As much as I thank you for taking my mind off the people down there, I must return. Heinrich will be giving his speech soon, and it would be bad form for the guest of honor to miss it." She smiled slightly and turned toward the stairs leaving him looking after her in confusion. "Enjoy the rest of your night, whoever you are," she said before descending the stairs, the smile in her voice easily heard.
"Beware that you may live in interesting times," he whispered, paraphrasing the old mortal saying, and it was as much a promise as a lament. Either she didn't hear or she chose not to since she kept walking. "Who are you, Adrienne?" Loki asked himself as he turned back to look down on the hall. For one second, just one, he almost regretted the chaos he was about to stir up. He didn't want to see the fear in her eyes when she looked upon him, its creator. The walking stick in his hands grew painfully hot, the Titan's fury seeping into his mind, pushing everything else aside. His gaze hardened on his target at the podium below him. He was Loki, rightful king of Asgard, and he had an eyeball to retrieve.
Adrienne had no way of knowing what had started out as a miserable night at a fundraiser in Stuttgart, Germany was about to become very interesting, and that the chance meeting she just had would shape the events of her future for a long time to come.