Disclaimer: The characters belong to Marvel. Their elation, their grief, their anger, those all belong to us.
Natasha was the only one left after Loki had seized power. The day the trickster god claimed ownership of her world, she promised herself that she would never stop fighting until the planet was free of him.. Even if the King of her world had once been King of her heart.
Natasha groaned as she pulled out the offensive object embedded in her abdomen by its cool, metal handle, blood blossoming through her shirt as the blade slid from its sheath of muscle and bone. Still lying sprawled across throne, an amused Loki chuckled, lips drawing back in a grim approximation of a smile.
"My dear Natasha," he sang, rising from his Kingly perch, "did you really think you could kill me so easily?" He gracefully made his way down marble steps, velvet cloak billowing behind him, to his would-be assassin as she sank to her knees, blood loss making her head spin.
Pausing in front of the Black Widow and lowering himself to her current level, Loki lifted her chin with delicate fingers, gazing deep into her hazy sea-foam green eyes; eyes filled with a quiet strength that both warmed and vexed his achng heart. "Didn't I tell you, sweet Tasha? In the end.." he breathed, caressing her cheek gently with a calloused thumb.
Natasha's eyes fluttered, and she shied away from his touch, feebly fighting to remain conscious. Loki leaned closer until his lips were a hair's breadth away from her ear.
"You will always kneel."
Loki caught her as she fainted, bringing her gently to the floor and giving her one last doleful glance before silently summoning the midgardian healers he had employed in his service to tend to her.
As they carried his wilted love away on one of their strange contraptions, a gurney he believed it was called, Loki found himself lost in thought. Was it worth it, he mused, to have all the power, all the riches of a realm, if he didn't have her?
The last Avenger.
The one woman whose love had once brought him to his knees.
Loki didn't dwell on it for long. The answer was simple, and it would haunt him until the end of his days.
No.
So.. This is literally the first semi-creative thing I've written in years that wasn't for school. I'd apologize for the length, but it's a oneshot that I just wrote (un-beta'd) and finished at about 3am. I'm still a bit rusty.
I may make this a twoshot later, just to explain the events leading up to this little slice of hell. Please review and let me know what you think! It makes me all warm and fuzzy inside, and it helps me become a better writer. :]