Set Me Free
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
Warnings: Some mild sexual content and some instances of mild coarse language
Story Playlist: 'Pandora's Box' from 'Lara Croft: The Cradle of Life', 'Science and Magic' from 'Thor' and 'Can You See Jane' from 'Thor'.
A/N: Third and last of my Loki/Agent Maria Hill trilogy.
An island, five miles east of Fiji, the South West Pacific, Earth, 2022
Phil Coulson sighed as he readjusted the sunglasses shielding his eyes from the unrelenting Pacific sun. It beat down him, like a tangible throb of heat and light, enough to make his shirt stick to his back.
The tiny boat's motor whirred behind him, vibrating through the entire boat, and he idly wondered if he had done the right thing in refusing Thor's offer of a lift. Or Stark's.
On the other hand, this situation was potentially explosive enough without adding Stark and his smartass mouth to the mix.
As he neared the island, small, remote, he thought back to the reason he was doing this. The reason why, one last time, he was going out on an assignment.
One last assignment, off the books, and covert. It had to be, with the two people he was seeking currently still on SHIELD's wanted list, should they ever show their faces on Earth again.
He was worried they had, and he had to find out why.
It had been an intern who had alerted him, who had come to him and showed him a report of one of their satellites malfunctioning while sweeping the South Pacific. It was a tiny thing, a glitch really, and he had been able to pass it off as one.
Except he knew something was wrong. When he'd been a field agent, in his younger days, he had done missions in the South Pacific. And he knew there was an island five miles east of Fiji, an island, that according to the satellite, no longer existed.
Even when he checked maps, both old and new, it had mysteriously disappeared. That alone had sent the hairs on the back of his hand standing on end.
Magic. It had to be.
He had gone to Thor, on one of his many visits to Earth, and frankly asked him if Loki and Maria were still on Asgard. He knew that Loki had found and taken Maria to safety after he, Agents Barton and Romanov, and Captain Rogers had conspired to set her free. If they were back on Earth, he needed to know.
Thor had eventually consented to tell him, and now there he was, ostensibly taking a long overdue vacation in his final year of working for SHIELD, on a half-dead little motorboat, chugging towards the seemingly deserted island that he remembered from an assignment over thirty years before.
He wondered what he would find. Fury didn't know, of course, about Maria or Loki's return. There was no need to burden him with it, along with everything else. As far as Fury was concerned, Maria Hill had betrayed the USA and the entire planet, and while he did not condone torturing a pregnant woman, he had done nothing to stop it either.
As for the child…he wondered about it, her. Thor had told Maria had had a baby girl, shortly before returning to Earth, ten years ago. He should have been angry, or at least concerned, but the facts spoke for themselves really. Loki and Maria had been there ten years, and done nothing. Even for a God, that was one hell of a protracted endgame…Coulson suspected that if he was going to make a hostile move, he'd have done it by now.
The island unfolded before him, a horseshoe shaped mound of rock and sand, half covered by rainforest. The lagoon, a rippling, azure expanse of calm water, opened up, as he headed towards a jetty. He manoeuvred the boat around, tethering it to the jetty and hopping ashore.
The rainforest stood like an impenetrable barrier of coconut trees and foliage, its shady fingers stretching far over the golden sand. Looking up at the forest, spotting the slightly indentation of a track, he inhaled deeply as his fingers unconsciously grazed the puckered, pale pink scar of the bullet wound Maria had left him with, ten years before.
Time to walk into the lion's den.
He had been walking for ten minutes when he heard the sound of laughter. Childish, high-pitched, feminine. He paused, eyes searching the undergrowth, before he became aware of three sets of eyes watching him intently. He was only aware of them; he got the feeling, because they let him.
Even as small as they were, they practically emanated power like thermonuclear furnaces.
"Hey there," he called, carefully, not wanting to scare them. He had no desire to spend the rest of his days as a rabbit or worse. "It's ok. I'm looking for someone."
A little girl, not older than ten, stepped forward from the bushes, and Phil felt his breath catch. She was a small, obviously feminine, version of Loki, with long dark hair and piercing eyes, her body long and lithe like a deer's. "I'm Helena. Mum and Dad call me Hela for short. Dad says it's because I'm a little hellion," she replied boldly. "Are you looking for them?"
"For your mother," he said cautiously, mentally exhausted by that breathless litany. He wasn't sure he wanted to meet the God of Mischief again. "You're not easy to find."
Two more figures emerged from the undergrowth, and he relaxed slightly. In these two, he could see echoes of Maria, from the dark brown eyes, and lighter hair, dark brown and golden blonde. He remembered Maria's mother and sister were fair-haired.
"This is Nanna," Hela gestured to the little girl; he guessed was about eight years old with the dark hair and warm brown eyes. "And-"
"I'm Vilia," the little blonde girl interjected boldly. She couldn't be older than five, but she spoke with the fluidity and eloquence of a teenager. "But everyone just calls me 'Vee'."
"Hello Vee, Nanna," Phil smiled and nodded to each. "I'm Phil."
Hela's eyes gleamed speculatively. "The Phil Mum talks about sometimes? You saved us."
"Yes, I did," Phil replied, shocked that Maria had told her children about him, and that Loki had allowed it. "That was a long time ago now."
Hela looked like she wanted to say more, but then a soft, familiar voice called out.
"Hela? Vee? Nanna? Where are you?" Maria called, and suddenly she was there, tall and bronzed, clad entirely in white, from her bikini to her kaftan. Her hair, longer than Phil remembered it, trailed down her back in soft waves, restrained only by a pair of sunglasses. She was barefoot.
She didn't look surprised to see him. "Nice shirt, Phil," she smirked, and he rolled his eyes. "Didn't know you were into the Hawaiian look."
"I'm on vacation. I thought it looked appropriate," he replied, taking a step towards her. She laughed, before her smile gentled, turned soft and wistful.
"It's good to see you again, Phil. Wanna come inside?" she asked.
"Sure," he shrugged nonchalantly. Maria's smile deepened wryly.
"As for you three-" she turned to her daughters, eying them sternly. To Phil's surprise, they all looked down and fidgeted uncomfortably. "Your father's been looking for you. It's time for schoolwork."
"Aww, Mum!" Hela groaned.
"But-" Nanna muttered sullenly. Maria held up a finger, one fine brow rising.
"No buts. Come on, or there will be no magic lessons later, and I won't take you down to the lagoon tomorrow for swimming," she interrupted sternly. "Go on now. Be good, and you can go out and play before dinner. Ok?"
The three daughters perked up and rushed off, back into the undergrowth, as Maria turned to watch them go.
"You're a natural," Phil breathed, and Maria turned back to him with a slight flush, before turning and leading the way through the undergrowth. "You don't seem surprised to see me."
"Thor warned us you were coming," she explained. "And you wouldn't have made it through the rainforest if Loki hadn't allowed you."
Not wanting to think about that statement, or what the opposite outcome might have meant, Phil fell into step beside her, as she led him deeper into the rainforest.
"How long have you been here?" he asked.
"Ten years," she replied. "After Hela was born, we came here."
"I guess Loki's dad forgave him then?" Phil pressed. Maria's forehead wrinkled for a moment.
"Kind of," she muttered evasively. "It's a long story, and I don't know about you, but it's too hot for dramatic stories."
Phil accepted the evasion, and continued to walk beside her. "How have you managed to stay under the radar for so long?" he asked, changing the subject.
"Magic," Maria replied. "We lifted the spell for you, and Thor, but to anyone else we look entirely different. Loki said it was similar to the glamour the All-Father placed upon him when he was a baby, except less…permanent. I only look different to strangers, not to you or Thor, or the kids. Not to Loki."
"It also helps there's been no world domination attempts this time as well," Phil added, jokingly. Maria snorted.
"I wouldn't have let him get away with it," she told him firmly. Phil accepted that with a nod. As they entered a clearing, Phil blinked as his vision decided to start playing up.
One moment a little, rough shack with whitewashed walls and palm leaves for a roof stood before him, the next a large, colonial mansion stood in its place. Maria smiled when she saw his confusion.
"It's an illusion. You can see both because we dropped the illusion for you," she explained, leading him towards the house, which finally settled into the colonial mansion. She led him towards the shady veranda, where a swing seat awaited them, behind a glass and wicker coffee table. A pitcher of iced lemon water waited for them.
Maria rolled her eyes. "You're very sweet, Hela, but you still have to do your Math lesson!" she called.
"Oh MUM!" a familiar voice called, and Phil couldn't hold in the laugh that escaped him.
"You, a mom," he shook his head, as he sat down when she gestured to the seat.
"I know right. It's a 24/7 job, but someone's got to do it," she sighed, settling back into her lounger.
"Particularly when they're daughters of the God of Mischief," Phil found himself commenting lightly, and a wry light filled Maria's eyes.
"That too," she murmured, before silence fell, awkward and tense, between them. Phil looked down at his glass, feeling its chill cling to his skin in the sticky atmosphere. Maria's voice, soft, sincere, pulled him from his reverie. "I never got to say thank you, for what you did. You took a great risk for me, when I didn't deserve it."
"You didn't deserve what was happening to you," he replied firmly. Maria rolled her eyes.
"Phil, I shot you," she retorted bluntly. "Most people would have gladly done it themselves."
"Neither you, nor your daughter, deserved what you got," he repeated firmly. "And I didn't fancy what might happen if your lover ever got wind of it."
"He was pretty pissed," she admitted.
"I know. I read the autopsy reports," Phil sighed. "Can't say they didn't have it coming."
"I didn't think Thor and his father would let him do it, but apparently on Asgard, a man has the right to avenge hurts done to their women," Maria rolled her eyes. "Not that I was too sorry. They could have killed Hela."
"She's a beautiful girl. Smart too. They all are," he breathed.
"What can I say? They get that from their mother," she laughed quietly, and he smiled warmly. Anyone would think they should have been at one another's throats, or at least acting like cold enemies rather than old friends, but Phil had long forgiven Maria for shooting him. She had shot him, not to kill, but to disable so Loki wouldn't do it for her, and he was grateful for that. He didn't pretend to understand their relationship, but he was glad she was happy.
"You're really happy, aren't you?" he just clarified, and she smiled a little ruefully.
"It's been tough, but yeah. You can't just let go of millennia's worth of bitterness and resentment, and pain, in one go. We got there in the end," she shrugged. "And I'm happy now."
"I'm glad. You deserve it. I never thought you'd settle down," he took a sip of water, before settling back. "Still can't quite believe it was with a Norse God, formerly hell-bent on world domination."
Maria snickered. "I never do things by half!"
"No, you certainly don't," he replied softly, and the smile slipped from her face. She looked down, at her glass and fiddled with an ice cube.
"I suppose you want me to explain how we ended up back on Earth," she breathed.
"You got me. Still an agent at heart," Phil joked, but held her eye seriously. "I just need to know, so I can retire without worrying if I need to put in a call to Nat or Steve anytime soon."
Maria nodded. "I suppose that's fair enough," she breathed. "Well…"
Asgard, ten years before
Maria had finally begun adjusting to Asgard. The towering golden spires and winding corridors were still daunting, but she was coping.
The suspicious glares and whispers were only annoying, not hurtful. She was…used to be a SHIELD agent. She could take a few spiteful rumours.
What she was still adjusting to was the life growing inside of her, half-human, half-Jotunn, with all her strength and power. Thank God the baby's healing abilities had been given to her, temporarily, because she frequently needed them as the baby grew and became active.
She stroked the sharp curve of her belly through the ivory gown that did nothing to hide her pregnancy. Frigga had told her that, due to the Aesir's longevity, pregnancies were few and far between, and it was celebrated not hidden.
Most would not celebrate the birth of the daughter of the disgraced Prince. It was a good thing no one knew of his true heritage, other than the royal family, the Lady Sif and the Warriors Three, and although the latter two still kept their distance from Loki, they defended him and Maria to the rest of Asgard. An innocent child was not to blame for the sins of the parent.
But something was wrong, that fine starry day in Asgard, and Maria could feel it from her place on the balcony outside Loki's rooms. Like a storm building.
Odin had announced that Thor would soon be crowned King, and Maria guessed how hard it was on Loki, particularly as suspicion once again rose around him, everyone wondering if, despite his lack of magic while residing in Asgard, he would disrupt the coronation or attempt revenge.
She sighed. As much as she acknowledged the wrong of Loki's actions, past and present, she knew about trust and what the lack of it could do to someone. Someone needed to take that first step.
Loki had been on edge for days since the announcement, and it was making her nervous. Something was going to happen, and if the slamming of doors was any indication, it just had.
She waited but no one entered the room, and she sighed. Time to face the wolf, and hope he wouldn't bite.
At least not at the moment. She was feeling a bit too fragile for that sort of play.
"Loki?" she called, stepping back into their rooms. She heard a rustle of fabric, and entered the living area to find her lover laid out on one of the low-slung green sofas before the fire, staring darkly into its depths.
Wordlessly, she went to his side, offering her comfort without speaking, laying her hand on his shoulder. He gripped it in one of his own, holding it against his cheek. Loki wasn't exactly big on public displays of affection outside of the bedroom, but the tenderness in the gesture made Maria's heart pound. It always did, despite everything that had passed between them, good and bad, and it gave her hope for the future.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked softly.
"Mortals," he scoffed. "That's your solution to everything at first, is it not? Talk."
"Don't get like that with me," she snapped. "I haven't done anything."
She tried to walk away, to remove her hand but he wouldn't let it go, instead pulling her back to sit on the sofa beside him, her back nestled against his chest, one slender hand over her heavily swollen belly.
"Forgive me, sweetling. I am not myself today," he murmured in her ear, and damn it, it could make her melt every time. They sat in silence for a time, watching the flames, before he finally spoke, quiet and rough. "I asked the All-Father's permission to leave Asgard."
"What? Why?" she turned her head to look at him over her shoulder.
"You know why. My perceptive little mortal, you know very well why," he breathed, and held her to him tighter, almost so she couldn't breathe. He had come far from the broken, dark creature he had been when she first met him, but it still hovered around the edges, and it was there now when she turned her face to his, raising one hand to stroke back his hair, shorter and tamed from its once wild cut.
She did know why, and it hurt so much.
"It seems my father does not wish to relinquish his favourite pet so soon," Loki sighed, leaning his head back against the cushions, avoiding her gaze.
"You know that's not it, Loki," she told him admonishingly. "He's the reason I'm even here right now. And you know he has his reasons."
Loki closed his eyes and put her from him, not roughly but firmly, so she was left in no doubt of his feelings at her words. "Like many, you take his side."
"Loki-"
"I do not wish to discuss it further, Maria," he snapped then, standing and sweeping from the room. She'd forgotten, after the tender, protective lover had emerged from his broken soul, that he could be so commanding and cold. An icy reminder, it chilled her to the bone.
She watched him go, before standing and leaving their rooms herself.
She walked quickly through the halls of the palace, only slightly hampered by her pregnant stomach, her long ivory cloak sweeping the floor behind her as she headed towards the throne room.
It was luckily deserted when she reached it, the guard respectfully bowing as they opened the great bronze doors for her, revealing the All-Father sat at his throne, kept company only by Thor and Frigga.
"Lady Maria?" Thor called, brow furrowed in concern. "Are you well? What is your business here?"
"I believe, my son, that her business is with me," the All-Father sighed. "Leave us."
Thor left with a confused frown, but Frigga lingered with a sad, knowledgeable smile, stroking Maria's arm through the glovelet once before she left too, leaving Maria alone with the most powerful being in the Universe.
She hadn't spent much time with Loki's adopted father. He wasn't exactly the approachable type. No wonder he'd done a monumental job of screwing his son up.
"I know what you have come to say, my Lady-" the All-Father began, but Maria gathered her courage and stepped forward determinedly.
"Then let me say it, All-Father, without interruption," she cut in, eying him steadily. He faltered, clearly unused to being interrupted before he inclined his head and gestured for her to speak. Maria took a deep breath. "Look, I understand why you don't want to let Loki go, really I do, and six months ago, I'd have agreed wholeheartedly, but things are different now."
"I know what Loki has done, what he's still capable of, even without his magic, but neither he nor you can heal unless someone begins to trust," she continued. "You know why Loki can't stay here, to see Thor crowned King, to see you step down and give the throne to him, and if you do, that bitterness, that darkness inside of him is just going to get worse and worse, until one day, no one will be able to reach him. He needs to go, to leave and be somewhere where there is no suspicion, no mistrust, no hatred, no glares following him wherever he goes. He needs you to trust him, as his father and King, and give him his freedom, to become his own man away from the shadow of Asgard. And of his brother and heritage."
The All-Father did not look angered by her words, but thoughtful. "My wife told me something similar," he sighed. "But my duty as King must come before the feelings of a father. I cannot trust that Loki will not slip into his old ways away from the walls of Asgard."
"If you do not, then he will, without a doubt, slip back into his old ways," she breathed, stepping closer. "You know what he faces here, now, every day, and yeah maybe he does deserve a little bit of it for what he's done, but all it's doing is feeding the darkness inside of him, not taming it. With every word, every memory, that old resentment is only going to grow. Unless he has distance, space to grow on his own, he will never heal and you will lose your son for good this time. Loki can't be the one to make the first move, to trust first. That wound goes too deep, so you're gonna have to do it, take the first step and trust him. Show him you don't see him as a time bomb waiting to go off anymore."
The All-Father sighed. "You are wise beyond your years, Lady Maria of SHIELD. Loki has harmed you more than almost anyone on your planet, yet you fight for him. Why?"
"Because I don't want to lose him," she breathed, an ache in her stomach at the thought. She placed her hand against the swell, and felt the sudden pulse as her little girl reached for the comfort of her mother's touch outside of the womb. "We don't want to lose him."
Odin's eye softened, and he inclined his head. "I will think on it. Good day, my Lady," he murmured, and Maria took that as her cue to go. She didn't want to push it, so she turned and left with a respectful bow.
When she returned to their rooms, Loki was gone, so she lay down on their bed, needing some rest after her confrontation with the All-Father. Her eyes drooped as her baby girl stretched inside of her, and she soothingly stroked the wall of her stomach as she fell asleep.
She was awoken by the familiar touch of Loki's hand on her stomach, stroking her through her gown, making her pulse race with every glide of his elegant fingers. His lips traced the curve of her neck, and she shuddered, turning her head so her nose grazed his chin.
"Forgive me," he breathed, and she almost froze in shock.
"An apology from you? I should write this down for posterity," she joked lightly, making him groan into her neck.
"Torturing creature," he growled, his viridian eyes meeting hers as she shifted onto her back to meet them. They softened, and he traced the line of her lips almost reverently. "I know you went to the All-Father. He has given us permission to leave, to settle on Earth after the child is born. Why did you intervene?"
Maria thought long and hard about that question. But it was a simple, twisted, infinitely complicated answer, one that should not be and yet was, had been from the moment he had claimed her for his own in that darkened bedroom in Stark Tower, months before.
"Because I love you," she whispered, almost shyly and his eyes widened. "Blue skin, red eyes, inferiority complex, daddy issues and all."
He didn't reply, just stared down at her, almost in wonder. She knew he wouldn't, couldn't say it back, not yet, but his gaze gave her hope. His lips fell to hers, gentle, sweet, affirming and she clung to the contact, as their baby kicked inside of her.
She broke it off with a pained cry, as her pelvis complained at its ill treatment. "Whoa there, baby girl," she breathed. "Mum needs her kidneys you know."
Loki smiled and then a full, deep laugh tore from his lips. "I think that is her way of ensuring any embarrassing displays of affection between her parents cease," he grinned, stroking her stomach.
"With us as her parents, she's gonna be a little hellion," Maria scoffed. Loki grinned, as she shifted deeper into his arms, held tightly against his chest, the precious cargo in her womb cradled between them.
Protected, loved. Loki made a silent vow that he would never let anyone harm what was his, either his lover, or his child. Not even himself.
Phil walked away, through the rainforest, his ears still ringing from everything Maria had told him. His mind whirled, almost unable to comprehend it. He recalled Thor's explanation of Loki's presence.
That he had changed. And it seemed he had.
For a moment, Phil was compelled to turn and look back, through a clearing in the forest, back to the house, and froze when he saw the figure standing on the upstairs balcony.
A tall, dark-haired figure, slicked back and shining in the sunlight, clothed in a loose shirt and trousers, watching him go with guarded emerald eyes. Little Vilia was in his arms, one around his neck, his own holding her tenderly and protectively, as she raised a hand to wave at him.
Loki turned his head to say something to her, and she giggled, before he let her down and she ran inside. Without a word, he looked back at Coulson and inclined his head, just once.
"What does he want, Maria? I need to know, to make sure it's safe…" he had asked Maria before they parted, for probably the last time.
"Peace. He just wants peace," she had replied softly, almost sadly.
Maria's voice and words echoed in his head, as he nodded back, just once and turned away, towards the setting sun, feeling oddly at peace himself.
The past had long been laid to rest.
Maria came up behind her lover as he watched Coulson go, until he disappeared without a trace into the forest, and out of their lives forever.
She slid her hand into his, and it tightened around her fingers, squeezing slightly. He turned to look at her, his Maria, his lover and the mother of their three daughters. When Thor occasionally came to visit, he loved to joke about the fact that Loki had three daughters and no sons, but their uncle loved them to distraction.
It had been ten years since he had left Asgard, left a different man from the mad, broken, desperate creature he had been when Thor had dragged him back, gagged and chained.
He had become a father. Holding a tiny life in one's arms changed perspectives in a flash, and Hela had quickly become his most important reason for living, besides Maria. And then Nanna and Vilia in quick succession.
Or so it felt to him. Maria had told him it wouldn't feel so quick if he'd had to carry and give birth to them. His lover still had such a fierce spirit, and he loved her for it.
He had so much to thank her for, his lover, for bringing him back from the dark, for giving him a reason to shake free of the bitterness and resentment that had taken hold of him, like poison eating at his soul. She had given him a proverbial kick up the backside for thinking so little of mortals.
She had given herself to him, freely, entirely, given up everything to him, again and again, let him take control as he so needed to do, but only in their bed. It was enough, to soothe his wounded soul and heal it, slowly.
His beautiful Maria.
At that thought, he pulled her into his arms and sat down on one of the wicker chairs, sinking into its cushions as he pulled her into his kiss, sliding one hand up her bare thigh beneath the gossamer material of her kaftan. He rather liked her revealing attire, even as some part of him growled at the thought of another male seeing her thus, but the pleasure outweighed the annoyance. She was his, anyway, as she made clear every night.
Her skin glowed in the gentle orange twilight, and he inwardly thanked his father for his gift to them before they left Asgard. So Maria would continue to be his forever after.
Maria moaned in his lap, one hand in his shortened hair, curling slightly in the heat and humidity of their home. He relished the soft muscle of her thighs laid across his lap, silken skin beneath his fingers, softened by childbirth and a life of peace, and broke the kiss as her breath stuttered against his lips.
"I love you," he breathed, and she stared down at him in shock. She had never asked him to repeat her words to him, back at her, and he never had until then. It felt like a day for moving forward.
Her smile was soft, loving. "I've always known. You didn't need to tell me," she breathed affectionately.
"Perhaps not, but it was time," he replied quietly, before his gaze sharpened, taking hold of her trailing hair and holding it in his fist. True to her word, she had never worn it in a bun or any other restrictive styles since he had taken her to Asgard. "Now sweetling, kiss me."
Maria's smile turned knowing and seductive, as she bent her head to his, as the sun shed its last rays over them. "Yes, my King," she breathed before their lips met, his tongue dominating hers as it always did, but she basked in the heat and the power of her lover, knowing her own power as she gave him control, his hands possessive and lustful as they traced her body.
She always would, if that was would keep him out of the darkness, and keep him safe. It might be sick, it might be wrong after everything he had done, both to her and to others, but she loved him too much to do otherwise.
And he loved her. And their children, and the freedom of a life lived away from the shadows of his former one. No suspicion, no hatred, no contempt undeserved.
Just trust, and love and a gift freely given.
Maria's mind flashed back to that moment their eyes had first met, icy blue to vivid green, both full of contempt and anger and the desire to kill, and she smiled as Loki's lips gently bit and marked her neck, tracing marks he had left only that morning.
Truly, how far they had come.
Finis
