Originally I tried to write an Underworld crossover, but Selene's character didn't fit my ideas – so I adapted her into a total reimagining of Sigyn (Loki's wife & Goddess of Fidelity in Mythology). This starts during Avengers and follows into The Dark World. I admit to a lot of headhopping, but apparently that's customary in trashy romance novels, so that's the standard I'm holding myself to!
A soundtrack is now linked in my profile \m/

Part 1

Loki sat slyly surveying the band of freaks assembled in the bizarre airship on which he was held hostage. His languid gaze fell beside him to a sinuous woman clad in black, with raven hair that brushed her collarbone. He studied her closely for a few moments, until she turned her porcelain pale face to him.

'You're not mortal,' he remarked coolly. He wondered why the archer he now controlled had made no mention of her.

His insight was met with stony silence, her only response an upward quirk of one graceful brow.

'What are you?' he enquired openly, disarmed with intrigue.

The woman lifted her eyes to his; an inhuman blue hue. Her plump lips parted, revealing sharp fangtips. 'Thirsty,' she spoke.

They immediately heard sharp intakes of breath from the Avengers, who tensed at her admission, clearly afraid of this thirst. She dropped her eyes, a slight smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth.

'For what?' Loki asked, needing to know of what the others were so wary.

'The blood of a god,' she purred indulgently, drawing closer and fixing him with a predatory stare. Loki felt a thrill of mingled fear and desire unexpectedly shoot through him.

'Alright, back off Sigyn.' Steve grasped her arm and tugged her away. Suddenly lightning flashed outside, sending a ripple of trepidation across Loki's face. 'What's the matter, scared of a little lightning?' Steve challenged him.

'I'm not overly fond of what follows,' the God of Mischief admitted.

She had to see him.

Loki's eyes snapped up as Sigyn approached his glass prison, his gaze appreciating the fluid grace of the vampire's movements.

'What have you come for, more questions?' he challenged icily.

Sigyn gently folded her arms and breathed, 'Just … taking your measure.' As her eyes wandered over him, her tongue traced her fangtips beneath her lips. The captive specimen sat with regal composure, his hollowed features set in an elegant scowl, with a cunning emerald glare that glinted with the energy of a coiled snake. She briefly wondered to herself from whence his well of malevolence flowed. At any rate, he would make a fine meal. Her finest.

The observation drew Loki's ire. She stood poised with feline calm, openly staring at him like a bug in a jar without any regard for his opinion. He rose to his feet, clasping his hands behind him. 'And what manner of dark creature are you?' he sneered as he drew menacingly close to the glass.

'Vampire,' she provided briskly, hoping to quell his curiosity.

'And you live on blood?'

'Mm.' She gave a nod.

'Exquisite,' he appraised with eyes roving over her. Sigyn clenched her jaw, and cursed the irony of having come to inspect him and finding herself evaluated.

'Tell me, why do you concern yourself with the fate of these mortals?' Loki chastised.

'I don't,' she conceded. 'But I can't have you invading my hunting ground and enslaving my food supply. You're stepping on a lot of toes here,' she warned.

He cocked his head in consideration, and leant closer. 'Join me and I'll provide you all the sustenance you desire,' he offered smoothly. He may have need for a queen once he had conquered the planet, Loki deduced, and truthfully there were none so worthy on Midgard as this immortal.

Sigyn fought to suppress a shiver up her spine – at the offer of blood, or the tone of his silken silver tongue, she wasn't sure. 'No thanks – I prefer free range,' she declined.

His charming expression twisted at her rejection. 'Have you no ambition?' Loki drawled in disgusted tones. 'You would sooner stand with your cattle than assume your mantle above them. Pathetic,' he spat. 'You'll dream of the power I offer when you're kneeling with all the rest.'

Sigyn shook her head calmly. 'You're mistaken. Your power will be mine soon enough,' she assured him with relish, then noted the resulting loss of colour in his face.

'What do you mean?' he hissed, disturbed by a feeling of uncertainty for a second time in this mysterious creature's company.

Her lips sealed into a smirk. She turned, and left him to ponder his fate.

'Come back!' he demanded, hammering his fist on the glass.

Banner brandished a needle. 'Say, mind if I take a sample of your blood?'

Her kin had analysed themselves to pieces already, but Sigyn indulged his curiosity and offered her forearm. 'It's not my blood,' she sniffed dryly with a shrug. Other than Coulson, the scientist had been the only one to come near her, and his openness was a welcome break from the others' wary glances. After a vial was filled the needle slid from her vein, the tiny wound closing instantly behind it.

'Thanks.'

Sigyn resumed her inspection of the sceptre, its blue glow illuminating her scowling gaze as she scrutinised its alien construction. Stark and Banner buzzed around her, exchanging technobabble as they crossed back and forth between an array of touchscreens while they worked on tracking the Tesseract's gamma signature. Their discussion turned again to speculation of Loki's intentions when Stark addressed her abruptly.

'Your vampire voodoo picked up on anything so far?'

Sigyn bristled but considered the factors at hand. Agent Romanoff had baited some information from their enemy; he intended for the Hulk to destroy their airborne headquarters from the inside. As Rogers had pointed out, Loki could not lead an army from the helicarrier. Among the secrets Sigyn was tasked with recovering by Fury – the operation of the sceptre and the location of the cube – she wondered how he planned to provoke Banner and escape unscathed.

'I'll know the answers soon enough,' she vowed.

'How many vials will you need?' queried Banner.

Sigyn flashed a fanged smile. 'Oh no,' she clarified, 'I'm doing him old-school.'

Tony threw Bruce an openly disturbed look, but the doctor's brow creased with concern. 'Are you certain the bite won't infect him?'

'He's a god, I'm sure he's impervious to a trifling curse such as mine,' she assured him.

'– Curse?' Thor entered the lab. 'On this world immortality is a curse? You've found yourself in the wrong realm, sister,' he chuckled. 'You should return to Asgard with me when this is over.'

His lack of prejudice charmed her. 'I'm not sure the Asgardians would approve of my appetite,' Sigyn pointed out.

She was not an Avenger, but a 'specialist consultant' as Coulson had put it; recruited solely for her ability to read memories in blood. Indeed, the only reason she agreed to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s request was on the proviso that she could taste the rarest of bloods: that of a Norse god. After three hundred years Sigyn had something of a predilection for sampling every sanguine cocktail that appeared on her menu. Along with her prey's memories, she would temporarily be infused with their potency. She would never be more powerful than with blood such as Loki's coursing through her veins. Her coven may frown upon her involvement in human matters but not even the elders knew the power of a god.

Her mouth watered in anticipation.

Flanked by armed soldiers, Sigyn crossed the threshold of Loki's prison. His hands were restrained behind him. His expression was smug, touched with mild curiosity as to what futile tortures they were to attempt on him. Dizzy with thirst now that he was within reach, Sigyn could make no secret of her excitement. Her chest beginning to rise and fall rapidly, she glanced at Director Fury with a gaze wild with desire.

'Do your thing,' he shrugged with an edge of distaste.

Pursing her lips with irritation, Sigyn rolled her shoulders, shrugging off her tailored velvet jacket, and pulled it down her arms behind her. She cast the garment at Fury, who caught it awkwardly. Then she lifted her chin and met Loki's stare.

'Kneel.'

'What?' scoffed the god, bemused. 'I'm asked to kneel before a blood-sucking beas–'

A swift kick to the knee from an obliging soldier dropped him before her. 'What are you doing?' he demanded, arching back from her as she crouched.

'Don't struggle, it'll only hurt,' she coaxed breathlessly, her tone tender with bloodlust, as she slid close to him.

'N-no! What is this?' he yelled, turning to Fury. The soldiers raised their weapons as he grew enraged.

Fury stated the terms. 'If you don't comply consciously we'll make you comply unconsciously.'

Before he resisted further Sigyn darted forward and seized her prey, curling her fingers into Loki's hair and pulling his head aside to expose the arteries in his neck. He cried out in horror at the sting of her teeth in his skin.

She answered with mewl of ecstasy as his essence coated her tingling tongue. His flavour was incredible, like feeding for the first time again. Soon her veins were burning with cold, godly power suffusing her form and leaking from her pores. Her body seemed to float as her strength soared beyond the constraints of gravity.

Loki caught a glimpse of her face before she was pulled off him. Her lips glistened with blood, her eyes ablaze with power and a look of pure animal satisfaction. She was monstrous. She was beautiful.

She was his enemy. And as he felt his own energy radiate from the goddess his blood had created, he was gripped by dread. But it was worse than he imagined.

'The memories,' Fury demanded of the vampire. 'What's he planning? Where is the cube?'

Bewildered, Loki gaped at Sigyn as her expression shifted. The buzzing in her mind rose to a crescendo of alien thoughts and feelings, and her eyes glazed over as she was possessed by Loki's memories. He watched her slump under the weight of another mind, dark hair spilling through pale fingers as her hands rose to clutch her temples as though they might burst.

Sigyn strained to locate Loki's plans, finding herself swept away by the stormy tides of his sorrow, loneliness, and anger. Her breath shuddered as pained voices echoed in her ears, feeling every word like a knife to her chest.

Am I cursed? … Small for a giant's offspring ... Abandoned, suffering, left to die … Just another stolen relic … I'm the monster … No matter how much you love me … I only ever wanted to be your equal! ... Is it madness? Is it?

Sigyn was vividly reminded of the family she had lost to her curse. Unageing, she had been driven away by their suspicion. From a distance she could only watch her nieces and nephews bloom and wither like her siblings before them, followed by their own children. It was a cruel blessing to be granted eternal life in a world of constant death. Her eyes winced closed as her clinical composure slipped. She had glimpsed the lost prince cowering inside the villain's armour, whose mischief had turned to malice in light of betrayal. She saw that he was driven to murder the father who had abandoned him, and forsake the father who had stolen him. He was the son of none.

She gasped to find her heart stricken by his longing, and a tear coursed down her cheek. His plans did not concern her any more.

Observing the ill effects of Sigyn's possession by his demons, an unwelcome pang resonated in Loki's chest. Frowning, he grit his teeth against the lump rising in his throat. He was no longer an orphaned runt but a conquering king and all must see it. Her tears were a violation and a mockery.

'Where's – the – cube?!' Fury shouted in exasperation.

Sigyn refocused her enquiry into Loki's blood a second time. She was drawn to his rudimentary plans for her once he'd charmed or cheated her allegiance – he would have her any way – advising his operations with her Midgardian expertise in gilded luxury, drunk on his blood. Her skin flushed at his wish to taste victory on her lips.

'I …' Her response faltered in her throat as she stared nakedly at the dark prince. She saw how far he'd come to conquer, and knew the power he wielded. He could not be stopped. Only soothed, she realised.

'Get her out of here,' the Director snapped, and a hand gripped her roughly.

Still flooded with emotion, Sigyn jerked away from the soldier's grasp. 'I'm not your puppet!' she snarled, her fists curling as an echo of Loki's rage ignited in her.

The soldiers redirected their weapons to the vampire. The mortal closest to Loki fired a series of tranquilliser darts into her. Unaffected, she yanked them out of her flesh and lunged at the soldiers.

'Contain her!' Fury commanded, backing away. Loki began wriggling furiously against his bonds.

She engaged the other soldiers, swirling between them in a flurry of deft strikes from her fists, elbows and knees. They were disposed of easily, but not before riddling her with bullets.

As the last man slumped to the floor Loki glanced around to find that Fury had swiftly slipped out of the cell, securing the two of them inside. Immobilised by pain, Sigyn sank before him, gasping. Finally pulling his wrists free, Loki regarded her calculatingly, unsure of her motives. Just yesterday she had taunted and threatened him, then today wept and fought for him. He found himself edging toward her.

'What are you doing?' she rasped as he reached out and began unhooking the lower fastenings of her corset to inspect the damage beneath.

'Healing you,' he murmured briskly, and raised a hand over her punctured stomach.

'No – don't,' she protested. At his quizzical look, a masochistic smile touched her bloodstained lips. 'It's been at least f-fifty years since I've had a good dose of perspective …' Her voice faded to a whisper. 'I'm healing, watch.'

Perspective from near-death? Loki wondered what good a brush with mortality could do for a god – only weaken them surely. 'What would you have me do?' he requested as her breathing slowed.

'… Just hold my hand …'

Her eyes fluttered closed. Her instruction was an act of sentiment, such a thing Loki now scorned. He glanced down her arm. Tentatively he touched a fingertip to her slender lifeless hand. So deadly moments ago, he found it now so delicate. She was unconscious, he bargained, and rested his fingers atop her hand. After a minute, he heard air draw into her lungs and before he could hastily retract his hand, her fingers grasped it tightly as her eyes drifted open once again.

Sigyn shuddered and groaned as bullets slowly reversed their path to re-emerge from her body and roll onto the floor with a tinkle. Her muscles, knotted with pain, relaxed as her torn flesh sealed and faded, leaving the plane of her stomach pristine.

Loki stared, transfixed by the harrowing sight of her transformation from battered corpse to bloodless beauty. Then his eyes narrowed with suspicion. 'Why did you do this?' he asked, searching her face intently.

A dry cackle rasped from her throat in marvel at the tears he had pulled out of her. All her decades had worn out her once tender heart, leaving a husk interested only in specimens she lusted to suck or fuck. But his thousand years of wonder and woe had pierced the scar tissue, and excavated some long-lost dregs of humanity still lurking in her bones like a forgotten ghost.

'I know you,' she breathed. 'I love you.'

A skilled liesmith, Loki knew deceit when it appeared. As he realised this was no trick, his brows rose in confusion. He pulled his hand from hers with a slight flick, as though it were sullied. 'Alien words from a stranger,' he sniffed, guarding himself with cynicism. 'Who are you to invade the mind of a king with such foul sorcery?' he challenged her devotion.

Sigyn pulled herself up to him, inclining her head and drawing in close until her breath brushed his throat. He stiffened, conflicted.

'His queen,' she suggested, and her tongue swept his wound, savouring the last trace of blood that had leaked from it.

His eyes rolled back and slid closed as thundering footsteps carried down the corridor.