Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or themes relating to the Marvel comics or movies mentioned in the following, this is a pure work of fiction xD
Note: I hope you enjoy reading this as this is my first ever fan fiction, requested by a friend. Reviews are welcome and appreciated as well :3 ~
"Never can true reconcilement grow where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep..." - John Milton, Paradise Lost
Loki sat in the Asgardian prison cell. His hands were cuffed together behind his back, his mouth still sealed shut for some inane reason. His blood boiled at the outrageous manner the scum were treating him with. Tied up and shut away in a prison? They were probably scared of what he could do if the circumstances were otherwise. He'd had plenty of time to imagine what he would do as well. Heavy footsteps echoed in the passageway before the golden bars, and upon command of a gruff voice the station guards left swiftly. Thor stepped into view, casting a large shadow into the cell and his blue eyes icy as they gazed upon his so-called brother.
"They bring you to trial in a week's time," he announced, his face stern and emotionless. All Loki could do was stare at the God. Stare at the God who had taken his throne. Stolen his life. "Why did you do it, brother?"
There he went again. Every day, he asked the same question, but of course he could never answer. One thousand reasons shot through his mind each time, none of which would satisfy Thor. The God rested his forehead against the bars, his face pinched as if in pain. Loki knew better than to believe such a ruse. Then he left, his rich crimson cape fluttering behind him. The guards returned, securing his cage once more, then stood in position besides the bars. He let his eyelids droop close, and began formulating his escape. The Chitauri had yet to come for him, and his hope withered each passing moment. He had failed them after all, so why did he still wish for their rescue? Loki let his mind wander into the recesses of his mind, and time passed him unrecognized.
There was a quake which shook the ground beneath him, and his eyes flew open. Loki saw dust fall from the stone ceiling, like a waterfall of victory as the specks touched the floor.
"Guards! We're under attack!" a voice bellowed in the distance, his watchdogs glancing nervously to him but deciding to leave as they dashed off and drew their swords. A wave of joy, but also fear, ran through him as noises of battle arose from all sides. The ringing of metal clashing against metal was a sweet melody to him, and the sounds of destruction the crescendo in the song of war. He felt the world shake, accompanied by crumbling rock and rubble. Soon the air pressure shifted, darkness flooding the cell as the warship blocked the sun. The ear shattering screeches of laser beams entered this tune, as they tore through matter like simple cloth.
A low chuckle resonated in his chest, and he looked ahead as warriors fought against the lithe Chitauri. It was a merciless massacre, the creatures slicing through the Asgardians like butter. His laughter faltered, sucked out of him in an instant. A suffocating atmosphere wrapped itself around the cell. The coldness seeped into his skin, and their leader walked silently out from behind him, facing him.
"I'm glad this amuses you, Loki of Asgard," the Other's voice a memory of a whisper. It was roughened by age and scraped against Loki's ear drums. "We have come to sort out this . . . predicament."
The battle raged on beyond the bars, the stifled gurgles of dying men paired with the sadistic laughter of the creatures.
"However," the Chitauri continued, and Loki felt his limbs grow numb with unbearable anticipation, "you did not meet your end of the bargain. The Tesseract, where is it?"
With that the Other reached for his muzzle, the tip of its fingers morphing into glinting blades. He cut through it, and it fell into his lap. Loki finally dared to look into the Other's eyes.
"I don't know," he said hoarsely, his voice untouched for far too long. The Chitauri hissed, and clamped its hand around his neck, the pointed finger tips digging into his flesh.
"Where is it?" the creature demanded once more, pushing in the blades ever so lightly and drawing drops of blood.
"No matter how many times you may ask me, the answer will be the same," Loki explained, truthfully and as confidently as he could manage. "What I can tell you though, is that my brother will know exactly where it is."
The Other hissed lowly again, and brought its face mere inches from his. Its breath was freezing and stank more than anything imaginable. "This does not redeem you, Asgardian God."
Loki felt the iciness settle into his limbs. "Then what will?"
"The eradication of these . . . protectors. They know of our existence now, and so we are at risk. Kill them, and I shall reconsider your end."
"What end might that be?" he queried, eyebrows raised.
The Other smiled, a gruesome, terrifying smile. "To send every ally our kind has made in this universe after you, with the intent to kill. A hunt, with a bitter end."
"I kill the Avengers, and this end will never come to pass?"
"Correct," the Other replied, pulling back. "I shall take you to the portal, where you will enter Earth to destroy them all."
He felt the conflict storm in his mind, but pushed any and all emotions aside when he inquired, "What about Thor?"
"He will flee to humanity soon after this battle is over, and you will no doubt encounter him on your travels."
Then the Other gestured for him to stand. The second he did so pain crashed into his temples, and his knees buckled with the agony. Sight fled from him and his scream was caught in his throat, as if he were being strangled. His head throbbed and his body ached, but it was over as quickly as it had begun. All the pain soothed away, the locks around his wrists falling in on themselves as they turned to dust. He forced his eyelids open. Loki raised his hands before him, still dazed from the onslaught. His wrists were bruised but the marks were disappearing, and the free mobility was a wonder to him. He stood in front of the portal, the vortex creating a strong wind, whipping against him and his clothes. It lead to Earth no doubt. In the distance he could see the plumes of smoke and stone thrown up into the air, fires licking up against the grandeur of Asgard with the Chitauri's warship hovering above like a sign of death.
The air by his now lowered hand grew warm, gradually getting hotter to the point where he had to pull back. The heat followed though and then the golden staff began forming its shape from the nothingness which had been there before. His fingers wrapped around the cool staff, the power of it beating into him to the rhythm of his heart.
"Do not linger, Asgardian," the Other remarked eerily behind him. "I have given you a weapon, and now-"
The armour clinked into place around his body, two curling horns extending out from his helmet. His shoulders felt the weight of the heavy cape.
"Your protection," the creature finished. "Go."
Loki did, stepping into the portal. His mind swirled as his body was ripped into atoms, racing through the vacuum of space, passing dimensions and different times.
He walked out into a city street, his armour having taken the form of a suit and his staff a cane. The adjustment took him only a few moments, and he breathed in the fresh Earth air.
"Excuse me," he stopped a young man passing. "Where am I?"
The man looked at him incredulously. "Uh, Manhattan, New York City."
A smooth smile spread on his face. "Thank you."
Loki left the worthless human being in confusion, and meandered around the throngs of people effortlessly. The staff's power had taken effect, and he felt its strength as part of himself. Being surrounded by creatures you could crush with a flick of a finger made him feel pretty good as well. His eyes kept glancing to the sky, searching for the monument. When he reached a turn, the same smile reappeared. The Stark Tower complex. It rose up from the ground like a shinning beacon of superiority. The arrogance of humans was something he always found astounding, especially when they almost matched his own.
His legs needed stretching after having been sat in a prison cell for a day or two, so he chose to walk along the pavements of Manhattan, enjoying the brisk winter breeze. This was how he would fix it all. He just had to kill them, and he would be free to experience the universe without the Chitauri hounding him.
After several minutes he reached the tower, entering the lobby. He politely made a request to have a meeting with Tony Stark, who, unbeknownst to them, was Iron Man. Inside was a lot warmer, but air conditioning kept it cool. The place was grand and expensive, new technology in every corner. Even the receptionist's computer was upgraded to thrice the quality of the most advanced computers. The Chitauri and Stark had that in common. A shared love for technology.
"I'm organizing it now, Sir," the woman updated him, the phone trapped between her ear and shoulder as she typed something on the holographic keyboard. "Mhm, yes he says it's urgent."
A smile played along Loki's lips and he winked at the women, who blushed lightly. Turning he admired the lobby.
"What was your name again, Sir?"
Loki paused for a moment, then came up with his response. "Tell Stark it's Mr Smith."
The women watched him sceptically, but relayed the information to whoever held the receiving end. Human women had their attractive qualities, and were quite fascinating, but nothing compared to a Goddess. The woman had oddly symmetrical features, light blue eyes and honey blonde hair. Her skin was the colour of cream and her figure was . . . slim. He stared as she spoke into the phone.
"Sorry Sir, but Mr Stark isn't in I'm afraid. If you leave your contact details I'll be sure to arrange a meeting-"
He held up a hand, and looked up at her underneath his lashes. "You and I both know that Stark is up there, and he's just pretending to be gone so he can avoid any business. Now, this is very important and I'm sure he would agree if he understood what importance meant. Why don't you just let me have a quick chat with him?"
She was hesitant, looking to the phone indecisively. He sighed and stepped back from the receptionist table.
"I really didn't want to do this, you know," he noted sympathetically, throwing his cane in the air and catching the bottom tip of it. Holding it out like pointing a sword he smiled to the women. "I promise this won't hurt a bit."
"What are you-"
A sapphire ball of electricity shot out from the end of it and hit the woman square in the chest. She was thrown back by the force of it, the crack of bones against the marble floor unpleasant. Loki waited for her to get back up again, nonchalantly swinging the cane around a few times. She pulled herself up, puffing a strand of hair out of her face, and straightened her dress.
"So, what floor is he on?"
"I'll take you there," she replied instantly and slightly flustered, a warm grin on her face. She clacked over to the lift, her high heels echoing against the marble flooring. Loki followed and stood behind her, entering after her when the door dinged open. He'd forgotten what it had felt like to do that. To make someone do your willing, forget what had been done to them. It was exhilarating.
"What business do you have for Mr Stark then?" she asked courteously.
"Nothing you need concern yourself with," he retorted curtly. Her finger pressed against one of the buttons, and he watched as it lit up and the doors closed once more. The lift began moving upwards, silently and gently.
"Well then, Mr Smith. What is it you do exactly?" the receptionist pressed once more.
Sighing in exasperation he turned to face her. "You don't need to fill silence with noise. Sometimes silence is better, like now for instance. So please, shut up."
She did as she was told. The poor girl was wordless the rest of the way, but the peacefulness was comforting. The lift suddenly came to a halt and the doors opened once more, revealing a splendid view. He walked out, taking in the walls of glass and floors of black marble, the area open and filled with chrome and technology.
"Sarah, I though I told you Tony isn't-" the other women stopped mid-sentence when she walked into the hallway and saw Loki. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I think she was just confused. First day on the job after all. I'm Miss Potts, Pepper, but please call me Miss Potts."
Her words were hurried and she held out her hand to him, although distracted by the blonde girl hiding in the lift. Loki took it and shook firmly.
"So, then, Mr Smith?"
"Yes?"
"I'm afraid we don't have record of anyone by that name in the database. Are you a new contractor, or?"
"I'm an old friend of Tony's." The lies slipped from his lips so easily, so believably. He saw the apprehension in her eyes, but she nodded.
"If you'll follow me, he's in his workshop," she said politely, turning and heading down the corridor. Loki followed her diligently, letting his eyes scan the area. He passed a large room, the wall to it made of glass, and saw a memory. His brief but memorable encounter with the man, at the start of his own ultimate downfall.
Miss Potts slowed down and directed him into a huge room. Then she left as swiftly as she had come, leaving him in the so-called workshop.
"I don't recall you ever being a friend," Stark announced from the other side of the room, ducking out from under a car's hood. "I mean really, people need to update me on these things."
Loki narrowed his eyes to mere slits. "Your attempt at humour is admirable, man of iron."
"What do you want, Loki?" The man wore simple clothes, his skin shinning with a sheen of sweat. Oil stained his large hands and face, and the arc reactor gleamed behind the thin fabric of his top. The veins that ran along his arms stood out prominently atop the muscles as they flexed, Stark wiping his hands uselessly with a dirty cloth. The dark smudges remained after the futile action.
"I come bearing rather dismal tidings," Loki began, ambling towards him until he stood a good few meters away. "I want you-"
"Oh, you're out of luck there," he interjected. "Sorry. I'm taken."
"Let me finish. I want you, but I want you dead."
"Didn't we sort all of this out a week ago or so? Speaking of which, why aren't you up there with the Martians or whatever you call them?" Stark's thick brows furrowed as gestured up to the ceiling with a wrench.
"Asgardians," he corrected.
"That's the one."
Loki gripped the cane tightly. "I made my escape to fulfil one purpose."
"That being my death?"
"And that of all your compatriots," he added. Stark thought for a moment then turned back to the car, shutting the hood.
"Now, you and I both know that isn't going to happen. What is going to happen is you're going to go back to the charming Asgardians, stay there and suffer the punishment for destruction of U.S. property, letting an entire army of aliens into our world and for being a general idiot. Are we on the same page here, or should I speak more slowly so it all sinks in?"
"Don't patronize me, human," Loki growled. "You are nothing without your suit. I could kill you right now and nothing would protect you."
"I'm afraid that isn't entirely correct," a voice proclaimed. He turned to face an odd metal contraption, but what it was didn't escape him. A laser.
"Jarvis, what would I do without you?"
"I hate to think about it, sir," the voice called 'Jarvis' replied.
Stark walked to stand next to the laser. "You've already alerted Pepper?"
"And contacted Director Fury."
"Ooh, looks like your stuck between a rock and hard place, Loki. Too bad. Do tell me if the evil thing works out though, won't you?" Stark made to leave. Loki felt something inside him snap. The cane cut through the air as he lifted it and the azure power burst forth from the tip, consuming the laser. It melted down into a tower of molten metal. Tony Stark faced him once again, his oily hands raised.
"Have I made my point?" he asked through clenched teeth.
"Still have those issues, don't you?" Stark dropped his arms back down to his sides. "I can probably arrange a meeting with a psychiatrist for you. Pepper kept asking me to go. Never did of course, since I'm not insane. You, on the other hand . . . Well," he waved at the recently deceased laser.
"I am not insane."
"You do realise you walked into my tower, then into my workshop, with nothing to protect you other than a cane?"
"It holds great power, and I am a God."
"Your brother is. You, though. You're just the bastard son of a frost giant."
"How dare you," Loki breathed, storming forwards and pushing the golden tip of the staff against Stark's neck. It had morphed into its original shape once more, and then the glamour was washed away. His cape fell down behind him, the armour plates taking their place on his body. The helmet was the last to form, and when the horns had curled into existence again he pushed the staff harder. Adrenaline was pumping through his veins. "How are you aware of such information?"
"I've done my research," he choked out.
Loki noticed a thin line of blood running down his neck. "I apologize, I didn't mean to hurt you, not yet anyway."
The moment he drew back Tony ran for the door. He had predicted such a reaction and was one step ahead, the staff stopping Tony as it whipped across his ankles. He crashed down the to the floor, awe-struck but quickly recovering. Loki marched forwards, about to deliver a killing blow when Stark leaped on him. The breath was knocked out of him when he hit the ground, and then a fist smashed against his cheek bone. Pain surged around his face. Loki jabbed the staff at Stark and they struggled for a moment, until he struck it against the side of Stark's face, knocking him away. Scrambling to his feet the God stood over Tony, the staff resting against the arc reactor. He started to fight, but Loki sent a pulse of electricity through the staff. The human's eyes bulged and glistened as the current cause his body to seize for a second or two.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you, man of iron."
"Please," he stifled out. "Call me Tony."
"I wonder how much power it would take to stop that contraption from functioning. I propose an experiment," Loki sneered just as he sent another wave of electricity through the staff. It pulsated into the man and his body stiffened, a groan of pain fleeing his mouth, and then a gasp of relief when he stopped the current.
"You don't have to do this," he rasped, his voice barely above a whisper and his dark eyes wide with shock.
"Oh, but I do," Loki said, leaning down slightly. "If I want my freedom, you need to die."