Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Avengers or Thor intellectual property or characters, which all belong to Marvel. This work of fanfiction is intended to be transformational commentary on the original and purely for enjoyment. No profit is being made from this work.


Pairing: Loki/Natasha and some Natasha/Clint

A/N: I have officially become an Avengers fan. Of course I couldn't resist the scent of a new fandom emerging. ^-^ I too have given in to the Loki/Hiddleston craze. I enjoy Loki's character for his complexities and desire for equality in the face of sibling favoritism. He reminds me of Severus Snape a bit, to be honest. Sometimes I draw parallels between Loki and Thor and Snape and James. ...I'm such a nerd, I don't even...

Thank you for taking the time to read my story!


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Prologue

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"No, Loki."

The aching disappointment and pity in the eyes of the All-Father were more than he could bear; the pained child who had tried to destroy an entire civilization in exchange for his father's appraisal. He had suspected it was futile to justify the madness of his actions, nevertheless an appeal had left his mouth before he could stop it.

He was but a means to an end; a political intent born from the whim of Odin the King of Asgard, who believed he could raise a ghastly Frost Giant as his own and someday unite Jotunheim and Asgard. All along, the god of Mischief and lies himself, had been a lie. And even as a Jotun, he was still unwanted, abandoned by his real father because of his slights and left to die. Ultimately, he belonged nowhere.

There was nothing else to live for.

Ignoring Thor's cries, Loki released his tenuous hold on the golden spear, Gungnir, his inherited weapon during his brief ascension to the Throne of Asgard. In the fleeting moment of his fall before the wrench of the menacing celestial maelstrom claimed him, he took one final look at the aged Odin who was once his 'father' and to the one he loved, his 'brother.'

He wondered if he would even be mourned...

In time, they would forget...

Farewell.

Calmly, Loki turned away to meet his fate; his body hurled rapidly toward the unknown darkness at the center of the spiraling wormhole caused by the devastating destruction of the Bifrost. His eyes stared bravely forward until he was violently swept away by swirling tendrils of stardust and plunged into nothingness.

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The negative space was terrifyingly accurate as had been described to him as a child. He had, admittedly, traveled deeper into the realms of nihility than he'd initially intended. Like a black abyss, the distinct absence of light... of warmth... chills ran down his spine but only silence and shadow dwelt. It was a wonder any creature managed to survive in such a lifeless realm.

In Asgard, little was known about these lands. Loki had only ever heard whispers; Whispers of creatures most terrible that some dared not even name. Those deemed the unworthy had been banished to the darkest and most desolate crevices of Yggdrasil. He'd often imagined what secrets these negative realms held, longing to expose them. As children, he and Thor dreamed of conquering them, becoming legends; The exalted ones, the ones who had slain the monsters of glutton and wrath!

But Loki was not the noble gladiator his younger self had dreamed of. He was, in fact, one of the monsters.

Perhaps this is where I belong, Loki had once thought, wandering through the lost lands, searching for what he craved; seeking his revenge. He was met with scorn, with creatures that knew of power and fear beyond the Asgardians' wildest imaginations. Word of Loki's downfall had traveled swiftly throughout the realms. It was a story that haunted him throughout his travels. A great prince. Son of the All-Father. Fallen.

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Earth's inhabitants were nothing but sniveling rodents, procreating to the point of overpopulation, constructing and maintaining political systems that only served to destroy themselves and the world they lived in. With every reinvention, humans deluded themselves into thinking that their faiths, logic, or science would successfully uncover the mysteries of life and the universe. They seemed doomed to repeat these foolish ambitions.

The first explorations of Midgard had been those among the Asgardian voyagers centuries ago. Many had remained fond of the fledgling civilization of Earth and visited the planet periodically; some even going so far as to take up residence there. Why that was, Loki couldn't fathom. As a child, he'd periodically read accounts from the written journals and records of these explorers and always found a common pattern of ignorance, oppression and violence that greeted Asgardian travelers in their interactions with humans.

Perhaps it had been because the humans knew not of magic and hailed the Aesir visitors as gods and goddesses.

At an early age, Loki had taken up the practice of sorcery. Growing in the shadow of his mighty brother, he'd always found himself second best. Loki'd never been exceptionally skilled at physical combat like Thor and most of the Aesir, but he'd found that he possessed a natural affinity to command great magical forces. Unfortunately, he had never received the recognition and respect that he'd expected, and certainly deserved. Loki had always hoped to somehow use these powers to become a most powerful god of Asgard, and to show Thor what he was capable of.

Ceasing his inner tirade, Loki sighed heavily.

Fury had been correct; the Tesseract could present its user with unlimited power; it would answer to Loki. Then, and only then, would he have what he needed to prove his worth to all those who doubted him. A mortal had once tried to master the vessel decades previous, seeking the power of the gods. From what Loki had read in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s hacked databases about the man called, the 'Red Skull', he had been on the right path, yet had failed the simplest of tests.

Failure was not an option for Loki, not anymore.

He straightened almost instantly, watching in Thor's hand, Mjölnir crawling with electricity. Loki swung his scepter just in time to block his three more blasts in his direction, striking Thor hard in the chest. Thor's fist then collided with Loki's jaw, knocking him off balance. Their fight came to a standstill when the thunder god cornered Loki on the scaffold of Stark Tower, trapping him against the wall, holding him in place. Loki glared defiantly at his brother, though inside he felt his heart tearing apart to be facing him like a common enemy.

"Look around you, Loki!" Thor yelled, gesturing down at the city that was now engulfed in bedlam. "Do you think this chaos will end with your rule?"

Turning his gaze down towards the smoldering buildings, structures collapsing into rubble, taking in the havoc that the Chitauri were wreaking on the humans, their panicked forms scurrying for shelter, he felt a pang of regret. He looked up into the imploring, pleading eyes of the god of Thunder.

"It's too late," Loki said, despair coloring his tone. "You can't stop it. No one can."

Thor shook his head.

"We can, Loki," he insisted, voice full of hope. "Together."

Together.

Like they had so many times in the past; side by side in battle. But how could he? If he were returned to Asgard, the Council would be sure to give the harshest of punishments for his crimes. Seeking out the Other, promising the Tesseract in exchange for an army to conquer Earth, all to spite Thor for living in his shadow. He had even gone that extra step by placing Eric Selvig under his control. Attempted genocide, the near-destruction of New York City... these were no petty charges and sanctioned a lifetime banishment to Niflheim, or worse.

Loki summoned his energy, and a small blade materialized into the palm of his hand. Before his conscience could quash his decision, he swiftly plunged the metal into Thor's side, though his second of hesitation saw that the blade only pierced the surface. Despite that, Thor released him and dropped to one knee, gasping in pain.

"Sentiment," Loki muttered, quietly berating himself for his moment of weakness.

He had come too far to let anything stop him now.

Timing his leap, Loki managed to land on the back of a passing Chitauri aircraft, adrenaline humming in his veins. He turned back to the Tower, a sense of relief washing over him as he observed his brother rise to his feet and simply toss Loki's blade aside. The wound would prove to be of little hindrance to Thor. Though he smothered it with his determination to claim the respect and admiration he yearned.

Loki might've been able to face warriors in the sparring ring, battle Jotnar and Jotunn, or defeat the countless hordes of Midgardian soldiers, but even he could not defeat 'Earth's Mightiest Heroes' with their Jormungandr-stalwart of a monster, their man of iron, the man with eyes like a hawk, the woman with the sharp mind and agile body, and their captain. Not indefinitely, but he was beginning to feel depleted in power and ability.

Most unfortunately, sometime during the tumultuous battle he had lost hold of his scepter.

Loki sped through the air, dodging bullets and debris. Out of the corner of his eye, he easily spied Barton's arrow streaking toward him and caught it, smirking. But in the next second, a mechanism clicked and the arrow exploded, catapulting Loki off the aircraft and back onto the top of Stark Tower along with Agent Romanov, or better known by her moniker, 'The Black Widow'.

He growled angrily. How did he, the god of Mischief, become so mocked? How did someone of far more superiority, both intelligently and cunningly, be bested by a group of freakish humans? It was all wrong; so very, very wrong. He was about to attack the redhead when he was charged by the Hulk, both crashing through windows, landing in Stark's common room.

"ENOUGH! I am a GOD you dull creature and I will not be bullied by— !"

The next thing he knew, he'd been snagged by one ankle in a crushing-tight grip being brutally, violently thrashed about like a rag doll and then on the ground with the wind knocked out of him.

Loki lay there in possibly the most pain he'd ever experienced, breath leaving him in a low wheeze as the oafish creature marched back the way he had come, muttering "puny god" and rejoining the battle. Allowing his magic to heal some of his wounds, which seemed like many agonizing hours later, he was finally able to move his limbs.

Loki craned his neck to look up at the sky above Stark Tower, seeing Chitauri still pouring through the portal. His gaze followed the beam of light that connected the portal to the Tesseract. He slowly sat himself up, hoping to find that Eric Selvig had retrieved the scepter when he'd dropped it, however, he found it not in the hands of Selvig, but in the hands of one Agent Romanov.

"Damn it," he whispered.

Loki could hear her speaking through her earpiece: "Guys, I can close the portal. I can close it." Though unable to make out the other end of the conversation, something she was told must have been terrible news, because her normally inscrutable eyes grew wide, and for a split second, Loki thought he detected fear within them.

"What is it? What did they say?" Selvig asked, voicing the Trickster's exact thoughts.

"A nuke is set to destroy the city," she answered breathlessly. "Stark's going to try and put it through the portal."

Selvig, clearly scandalized, held his composure and nodded.

Loki glanced around, searching for Stark's distinct crimson and gold armor. It took him a moment, but he finally spotted the Metal man, flying directly toward their position, guiding a giant missile with his body. Stark drew nearer to the Tower, and at the last second was able to shift the missile upward, toward the open portal. Loki held his breath as Iron Man sped into the portal. Sighs of relief followed from Romanov and Selvig.

A moment later the light of an explosion was visible from the other side of the portal and all around the city, the devastating sounds of the Chitauri falling lifeless could be heard. However, he knew that they needed to close the portal before the baleful rift from the explosion poured through, but Romanov seemed to be stalling in hopes that Stark would return through it. Loki thought for sure they would run out of time.

However, in one fluid movement she stepped forward, and with calm resolve, pushed the tip of the scepter into the blue core of the Tesseract, disrupting it and causing the portal to close. Romanov looked up and smirked as a single small figure fell through the portal just before it closed.

Loki shifted his body slowly, his armor weighing him down, only to come face-to-barrel with Agent Romanov's cocked gun. He continued to smile as she radioed the rest of the team, informing that she had him in custody.

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Loki was experiencing a plethora of different emotions as he was marched, bound and gagged, into a clearing in Central Park by Thor, surrounded by the proud faces of the Avengers.

He took advantage of that short time to study them all, commit them to memory, for what purpose, he had only an inkling of for now.

Of them all, only a few stood out to him. Bruce Banner had been the one to actually take him down. His frightening strength, when in his other form, was not something Loki wished to ever be on the receiving end of again; he could still feel the bruises from the beast's attack. Tony Stark, for all his childish arrogance, had made the sacrifice play to save the world. The Man of Metal had earned a grudging respect from Loki.

Finally, Natasha Romanov caught his eye. He watched her turn to Clint Barton and whisper something in his ear. Hawkeye smirked, not taking his eyes off Loki.

They were now eye to eye, and only then did he notice how small this deadly woman was; thin, yet statuesque, she had the heightened mystery of a Vanir goddess. He scowled under his gag. Very few could manage to effectively sneak up on Loki and best him at his own game, but one of those few was this fascinating, human woman. The irony of it was not lost on him. Loki had underestimated Agent Romanov's ability.

Further observance was interrupted by Thor, who was now offering him one end of the device designed to transport them back to Asgard, using the power of the Tesseract.

Asgard. The only home he had ever known was now lost to him. Although his true nature was that of a Frost Giant, he couldn't imagine ever building a life for himself among his 'own kind' in the Realm of Jotunheim. They were strangers to him. Their customs, their beliefs, their ways, all alien as he would be to them. He was Jotun purely by blood, but ideal Asgardian to the core. He had Odin the All-Father to blame for that.

With an odious glower at his elder brother, Loki reached out and took hold of the device. Thor activated it and they were swallowed up by a bright flash of blue light.

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A/N: Review, please! Thank you!