Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! Here's chapter II, promised after I received ten reviews. To answer a reviewer-yes, Loki is very savage. He desires Jane, but like any other charismatic leader, he's extremely patient (like Hitler, Stalin, etc; they waited to seize power). Loki did not wait to seize power of the planet, but he is waiting for Jane.
You'll see he has ulterior motives. He didn't want Jane just because she's a threat to him, being able to predict his next military advancement. But that's the reason he's operating under.
Playlist: ...no playlist for this one.
Chapter II...here we go.
Jane feels herself going crazy. It's been five days of solitary confinement. She can't go anywhere. She can't talk to anyone. Loki made good on his threat to black out the windows. She has no books, no entertainment.
Her room is fine. It's got vaulted ceilings with a beautiful chandelier. It's more of silver-chrome theme. The mattress is plush and comfortable, and her bathroom is larger than the master room at her own house in New Mexico. Her food hasn't been lacking either. Since the room is blacked out, the only way she can tell the time is by when her meals arrive.
Natasha used to bring her things, but three days ago she stopped. Probably on a mission.
And still, that gold necklace glitters mockingly.
The first night, when Natasha escorted Jane back to her room, she had talked with her. She gave her some ice for Loki's bite mark on her throat, which of course didn't help.
"Jane, what did he do to you?" Natasha had asked softly.
"I don't even know," Jane hiccupped in response, letting the tears flow freely now. "I just…don't know!"
The Black Widow doesn't press the matter, knowing perfectly well what had transpired. Loki was already making Jane his. He had tried to make Natasha his plaything when he captured her, but she was too much of a warrior. It wasn't until Clint was threatened that Natasha allowed herself to even be touched by the man. And even so, she made it perfectly clear that she was his hired mercenary, not a whore.
They had an arrangement: she would spy on foreign leaders and work for him, and he, in return, would spare Clint Barton's life.
Even so, Loki was unaware of her arrangement with SHIELD.
By the sixth day, Jane had garnered the nerve to pick up the necklace. She touched it hesitantly, sure it was going to attack or shock her. But it seemed to be harmless. It was just a gold choker with Celtic designs. Hardly threatening.
Loki had told her that she wasn't going to get her freedoms back until she put it on willingly.
She was going crazy. The solitary confinement thing was not working out. Stealing herself, she took a deep breath before fastening the choker around her neck.
There was a slight click! And other than that, it was rather anti-climactic.
She sat back down and put her head in her hands, trying to hold in the tears.
"Loki, you release her now or I swear I will wreak havoc upon you!" Thor bellows at the screen in the conference room.
"And if I sense your presence within a twenty mile radius of me, I'll just kill her."
Silence. Loki would never kill Jane, but Thor doesn't know that.
"Besides, dear brother, you have nothing to worry about. She is being treated like a goddess."
"She's innocent. You leave her be."
Loki smirks. "She's quite innocent. A lot more than you might think. I'm actually doing her a favor. Where she is now, she won't be caught in the crossfire, unless SHIELD is foolish enough to launch an attack at my headquarters."
Silence again.
Thor speaks, "Loki. I implore you. Give her to me. She means nothing to you, she's a civilian."
Loki suddenly becomes aware of the fact that Jane had acquiesced to him and put on the necklace. Time to cut the reunion short.
"That's where you're wrong, brother. She means nothing to the rest of the world, but to the only two Asgardians on all of Midgard? She is quite a valuable trophy. To you because of love, to me because having her in my possession…" he drawls the word out, knowing it's quite true now that she had put the necklace on, "means that you are beside yourself with worry…not knowing what I may or may not do to her… not knowing if I might break her so completely, like our horses in Asgard, that she becomes the ideal mount—"
"Where's your honor?!" Thor bellows, raising Mjolnir to the screen.
Loki bares his teeth at Thor. "Torn apart, the way your dear Lady Jane's was last night."
"I swear to you, Silvertongue, if you—"
"The name is no longer an insult to me, Thor. Silvertongue is what Miss Foster refers to me as…after having been acquainted with the talents of my, ah, 'silver tongue.'" He leers at his older brother, enjoying his pain. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to tend to Miss Foster. Remember, Thor—any attack on New York City, or any of the other capitals I now possess, and not only will I obliterate your Utah base—" a hum goes through the room, the other SHIELD agents clearly astounded he knew of their location—"but I will also kill your lovely lady."
Ignoring Thor's outburst, Loki disconnects from the server with a wave of his scepter.
He has a mortal scientist to tend to.
Jane hears a rustle behind her, like wind hitting the drapes, and sighs.
"I know you're there, Loki," she says.
It's been six days since she last spoke to another human being. Six days since her left her in solitary confinement, albeit a comfortable solitary confinement.
He pauses in answering her.
"Oh, I'm sorry," she says sarcastically. "You don't know how to respond when someone treats you like an equal. Let's start over. I know you're there, Silvertongue."
In a second, his hands are at the nape of her neck, sweeping her hair away to see the mark he placed on her throat. It had faded somewhat, but he had bitten hard enough six days ago that it was still evident.
"Don't touch me!" Jane flares up abruptly, feeling his slender fingers touch the fading bruise. She turns around for the first time to look at him properly.
He isn't wearing his armor, or a suit. No, he was dressed comfortably in what she assumed was Asgardian clothing, because he still looked like a prince in his black leather pants and tunic, trimmed with gold and green snakeskin.
"I just spoke with Thor," Loki says after a pause.
"Thor," Jane whispers. "How is he?"
"Well enough," Loki responds, striding over to the windows and pressing his hand to the glass. Each one he touches slowly becomes more and more translucent, until Jane can see the moon and starlight. "Concerned for your well-being," Loki adds. "I reassured him."
"Reassured him," Jane repeats, watching him warily as she crosses the room to gaze out the window. "Elaborate."
His eyes flash dangerously. "Manners, Jane. Remember your place," he says, his voice dropping an octave. "You do not have the right or authority."
"Like you have the right to take over Midgard," Jane retorts, glaring at him. She doesn't know where this sudden boldness came from.
"Yes, I do," he answers haughtily, raising his chin. "A right given to me by the gods."
"Not my gods," she flashes back. "Not any Midgardian god, Laufeyson."
"And you're wrong on both of your declarations," Loki says, eyes flashing red with anger. Literally, red. Jane stops, realizing she might have crossed the line. "Do not attempt to speak of that which you do not understand."
I understand quite well.
Loki takes a deep breath. "I'm a god of my word," he says, changing the subject. "You can now engage in conversation to other inhabitants of the Tower. Natasha is out on a mission for me. But I believe one of your old friends, Darcy Lewis is on my staff here."
"Darcy? Darcy works here?"
Loki nods. "She worked for Mr. Stark when it was called Stark Tower. However, she proved useful in what you call PR, and I decided to keep her."
"Where is she now?" Jane asks cautiously, stepping backwards as Loki takes steps closer to her.
"Seventeenth floor. She's working on my our travel plans for tomorrow."
"Our?"
Loki smirks as Jane hits the wall with her back. He slowly walks forward, even as she starts moving along the side of the wall. It's then that she realizes that she's still actually in her bedroom…with an actual bed in the room…she does not like this at all.
"Yes, Miss Foster. Tomorrow we are temporarily moving to my European capital, Paris."
"I'm—we're going to Paris?!" Could he possibly know? Could he possibly know my parents retired there?
He smiles. "I sense excitement in your tone. But yes, Paris." He sighs in frustration as she moves to put a coffee table between them. "Stop running."
"I…I'm not running."
Loki crouches and takes three quick steps forward before standing up straight and still. Jane turns and runs to the door to open it, but it's locked. She looks back at him anxiously.
He gazes lazily at her with an amused expression before beginning his predatory walk to her again. "No," he agrees. "You most definitely are not running."
She stops and flattens herself against the door frame. "Why are you doing this?" she whispers. "Why?"
He's standing in front of her, running his finger along the necklace, and further still, her collarbone.
"I believe I've told you," he says quietly. "That I desire to know what it is in you that so intoxicated Thor…so what, pray tell, is so special about you, Miss Foster?"
"Nothing," she manages, closing her eyes tight as he tilts her head to the side. "I'm not special at all."
"Mmmm," he responds. "That's a lie." He bends his head down to touch his lips to his mark on her neck again. She inhales sharply when she feels his tongue on her skin.
"So…what…do you think…is special about me, then?" she asks him, squeezing her eyes tighter as his teeth graces her throat again.
He draws away. "Your intelligence," he breaths against her neck. "Your defiance, your fire, your passion. The taste of your skin."
She raises her hands to his chest and pushes at him. "Please, Silvertongue, please stop."
"You're teasing me," he says. "Silvertongue. Do me a favor, and keep calling me that." He does stop, surprisingly. He steps back.
"What used to be an insult is quite the complement from you." She blushes slightly. "I am pleased with you, my dear Miss Foster," he says. "For…submitting to my orders." He touches his hand to the necklace and she flinches. "You would do well to remember that subservience is a quality trait that will not go unrewarded."
Jane's mind flashes through her mental dictionary. Subservience: prepared to obey others unquestioningly. Hell no.
He turns away from her. "It's eleven at night, my dear. You should rest. Tomorrow we leave at six."
"Rest? You expect me to sleep in here, after you've assaulted me in here again? After knowing that you can just magic yourself into my room uninvited?" After knowing you can walk in and watch me sleep, and I wouldn't even hear because you'd just teleport yourself in!
He glances back at her. "Yes. We have a long day tomorrow. Including a press conference when we arrive in Paris, which you will be required to attend. So yes, sleep tonight, even though I might be in the shadows watching you." He leers at her. He remembers something else she said. "And if you consider my kiss an assault, someday I might give you some real bruises to think about." An image flashes through her mind of him pinning her down on a bed. It wasn't there by her own imagination.
"Get out of my head!" she demands, closing her eyes, and falling down against the door. "You promised! You told me you wouldn't!"
"And I won't," he says immediately. "Unless you proposition me first," he adds.
"That won't happen," she says after a pause. "Never."
"So sure of that?"
He's suddenly behind her again, holding her hair up with one hand and the other around her stomach. "Still yourself," he orders her as she protests and tries to free herself. "Or I'll mark your other side." She stops moving.
His fingers run over the back of the choker, and then suddenly, she goes lax in his arms, put to sleep by his sorcery. He lifts her easily in his capable arms, and deposits her on the bed. He moves her hair again. She can't see what he can, engraved on the back of the firm choker.
Property of High Lord Loki.
Jane shakes her head as she wakes up the next morning, trying to make sense of it. There's a dull humming in the back of her mind.
"Ugh," she moans, rolling her head back and opening her eyes. She blinks. What?
She's in a plane.
Wearing a outfit. Something she wasn't wearing last night.
Loki. You SOB.
"Jane!" She looks up, surprised not to hear his voice. Instead, it's her former assistant, Darcy Lewis.
"Darce," Jane whispers. "What's going on?"
Darcy cocks her head. "Well, Lord Loki informed me that you were going to Paris with us. So, we're on a plane to Paris."
"Darcy." Jane fixes her with a firm stare. "How did I end up in this dress? Or on the plane?"
"Oh, that." Her petite friend fidgets. "Well, Lord Loki told me that he had ensorcered you to sleep a little too strongly. I changed you though, don't worry, I didn't do anything obviously, and I made sure to request that he leave the room. And, well, he carried you on board. It's about three PM."
Three PM? He knocked me out at eleven! I slept for over twelve hours?! I'm going to kill him.
"Where is he now? Loki, I mean."
Darcy gestures over her shoulder. "In his private quarters, teleconferencing with the Prime Minister of Britain. Hey," she says suddenly when Jane pulls her hair back. "How'd that happen?"
"What?" Jane freezes.
"That…that bruise on your neck. It looks like…"
Jane squeezes her eyes shut.
"It is!" Darcy gasps, eyes wide. "Is it from…" she jerks her head to the back of the plane, where Loki's private quarters were.
"Darcy, please," Jane says softly. "I'm trying to forget." She rubs her temples. "But yes. Loki..."
Darcy claps her hands together. "Holy mother, Jane! How is it that you always get the hot gods? Why can't I, for once, have a Norse god? Do you reckon there's any more brothers?"
"Wait…what?" Jane asks, staring at Darcy. "You think—you think Loki is attractive?"
Darcy rolls her eyes. "Well, yeah. A fool wouldn't. He's tall, dark, and just sexy. And he has those piercing green eyes, like Thor's blue ones, but green like…like emeralds or something. And there's something about the way he's just so…I don't know, possessive? That is a total turn-on."
"What? You must be out of your mind."
"No, no, you don't understand! A month after agreeing to work for him I was leaving the Tower and these two idiots approached me, and started trying to rape me or do something to me. Anyways, I didn't have my Taser because Lord Loki confiscated it, but I was lucky he happened to be at the penthouse and looking outside at the time. He saw what was happening and basically saved my life, saying something along the lines of, 'You do not touch what belongs to me.' I was practically wishing he'd just take me. He told me to go back into the Tower and wait for him in his Suite."
"He didn't….you didn't…"
"No, unfortunately." Darcy sighs dramatically. "I wish we would. That would have been awesome sex. I mean, can you imagine a god? Think of the thousands of years of experience!"
"I don't want to," Jane answers quickly. "He kidnapped me and killed hundreds of people, Darcy! How can you enjoy working for him?"
"How can I not? He's treated me well so far. And he's been doing a pretty good job rebuilding Manhattan. He put those Chitauri to work. I don't think he's all bad. Oh, and he gave me a Maserati. What other girl is lucky enough to get a Maserati from her boss?"
Jane huffs and turns to look out the window, seeing ocean. "So, Paris? How far does his control extend?"
Darcy takes out her notes. "Pretty much all of Europe and Eastern Europe. England is still resisting, making up excuses. But Loki's not keen on attacking them, citing the culture in London and across the UK that needs to be preserved. Africa by default, mostly, since they aren't unified enough to fight him off but he hasn't even entered Africa because they aren't a threat. He's negotiating for Russia, and that's where Natasha Romanoff went. China and Japan still think they can fight him off. Surprisingly, the Middle Eastern countries have stopped fighting each other and are now mobilizing an army together. But Lord Loki will take care of that. And North Korea is doing what North Korea does best."
"Which is?"
"Threatening nuclear warfare or just ignoring our Lord's attempts to make contact with him. Not that they have the capabilities to launch a war against him. But seriously Jane," Darcy adopts a devious glint in her eyes. "Do you think the two of you'll ever actually have sex?"
"Not in a million years," Jane answers quietly. "He told me he wouldn't force me to his bed, not until I proposition him first, and I know that will never happen."
Darcy moans. "Jaa-aane! Man. Why can't I be in your position? I'd be propositioning him right now. Mile-high club, baby. I mean, he's got a great body, most deep and beautiful eyes you've ever seen, and long slender fingers, he's probably really rough and you know—he is a god, so that has to be the best sex you'll ever get in your life. I mean, let me repeat myself, think of all the centuries of practice he's gotten! Why are you so opposed to him?"
"Yes, Jane." Jane freezes, as does Darcy, as Loki materializes in front of them. "Why are you so opposed to me?"
Darcy's eyes are wide with horror that Loki had heard her talking. She turns around nervously in her seat, but Loki wasn't paying her any attention. He was completely focused on Jane.
"Because you're killing hundreds of people and stripping their freedoms from them, Loki!" she spits out, standing up. "Is it no wonder I don't want to sleep with you?"
Loki smiles, flashing a little too much fang for her liking. "And yet, you enjoyed my ministrations on your neck."
"I did not. That was rape."
He stops smiling, and adopts a furious glint in his eye. "That was not rape," he growls angrily. "Rape is for those unskilled in the art of seduction. I do not believe in forcing myself on any unwilling woman. Do not ever call me a rapist again, Miss Foster, or I will break my code of honor show you what rape really is."
Jane narrows her eyes, searching his expression. He actually looked hurt, offended, and angry. She had actually offended him.
He turns away from her.
"I'm sorry," she says softly before she could snatch it back.
He stops walking, and for the first time, Darcy is actually completely quiet.
"I didn't mean to hurt you," Jane says. "But I…you…I felt like you were violating me."
"Stand up," he tells her, "And come stand in front of me."
Darcy glances between the two of them nervously, seeing what Jane will do. She follows his instructions warily, stopping two feet from him. He takes a step forward to close the gap, and brings his hand up to her cheek. He avoids eye contact as he tilts her head again, inspecting the skin he'd bruised with his lips. He brings his fingers to it, and depresses slightly. She winces into his other hand, the one holding her cheek as she feels a jolt of pain. Then he lets go of her.
"You're no longer marked. You don't need to be self conscious about it anymore," he says quietly. "But I can't promise it won't happen again." His eyes glitter.
Jane has tears in her eyes as she turns to a mirror mounted on the inside of the luxury plane. He's right. Her skin is white, all evidence of his lovebite gone.
Lovebite? No, just a bite.
He's incapable of love.
"Miss Lewis," Loki turns to his head PR. She gives a start.
"Yes, my lord?"
"Come into my office in five minutes. I want to be briefed on the press conferences I'm attending."
"Okay," she nods.
He turns back to his office and opens the wood door; before he closes it though, he looks at Darcy. "And I'm flattered by your comments, Miss Lewis. I'll keep that proposition in mind."
The second the door shuts, Darcy turns to Jane and says, "If that wasn't sexual tension between the two of you just now, I don't know what is."
Jane doesn't see anything of Loki for the rest of the flight. Darcy is in with him for about forty minutes, but she returns to talk with Jane after that.
Darcy tells Jane that the press will be on the tarmac when Loki arrives in Paris. She says that Loki expects Jane to be on her best behavior, and that Jane will accompany Loki to the majority of his social and press events in Europe, and a few political ones, although usually it's Darcy he brings with him on the political and diplomatic meetings.
Jane is furious at the situation. Paris, she keeps telling herself. Her parents retired there. She can escape and meet up with them, maybe. Or maybe if she just asked Loki, he'd let her visit them…
No. Because if he said no, and she went anyways, he would know exactly where she was.
She can't even tell Darcy, because even though Darcy is the same Darcy she once knew, this Darcy is loyal to Loki completely.
"I'm sorry, what?" Jane turns back to Darcy. She sighs dramatically.
"Here," she says, leaning forward to hand Jane some fabric. She doesn't register it, thinking too much about her escape.
"What's this?" she asks, feeling the champagne colored fabric.
"The dress you'll be wearing when exiting the plane," Darcy answers. "And here's your heels."
"Are you kidding me, Darcy?" Jane asks, exasperated. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?"
Darcy gives her a withering look. "You can't go out there and face the press with jeans and a blouse, even if they are from Express." She leans forward and whispers into Jane's ear. "I think Loki's metro. He's very up to date with styles and knows what looks good." Jane rolls her eyes. How the heck has Darcy managed to keep such a positive and sarcastic attitude?
Jane takes the dress and shakes it out. Darcy's right. It's stylish, but still modest. It's a V neck with capped sleeves that easily falls to her knee. She looks at the label.
Prada.
Prada? She hasn't even been in breathing distance of a Prada product. Ridiculous.
She inspects the design, unsurprised to see Celtic designs embroidered along the hem and collar. She sighs, then goes into the bathroom to get changed. Darcy had said they'll land in an hour.
"You can't be serious."
Jane stares at Loki as he emerges from his study, pointing out the window at the press that had assembled. It's only then that she realizes that they're matching—he has a champagne colored scarf with green Celtic designs. What is it with him and that pattern?
"Oh, but I am," he answers suavely.
That's a change in personality.
He extends his arm, and she hesitates. "Take my arm," he orders her.
"So, what?" she asks hostilely. "I'm to be presented as your consort?"
"You're not to be presented as anything," he answers patiently. "You'll do what you're told."
"And if I don't?" Behind her, Jane hears Darcy mutter, "Jane, just stop." But she won't
He smirks and touches the angle of her jawline. She manages not to flinch away. "Then, as you Midgardians say, we are back to square one."
He'll violate me again.
"So play nicely, Miss Foster. Besides," he adds, a light in his eye, "you wouldn't want to worry Thor, would you? Stand high and proud for him."
Jane huffs but doesn't answer. Loki knows he's got her right where he wants her.
With a deep breath, she takes his arm and steps out onto the tarmac, blinking in the bright sunlight.
She blinks furiously as the paparazzi cameras go off, the photographers held back by men in dark suits with Celtic lapel pins. It's like Secret Service.
She pauses in her step, trying to get her bearings. Loki pauses with her, then leans down and whispers in her ear, "Chin up, walk." He flexes the arm she's holding onto slightly, almost reassuringly.
As she walks, her head held high, she wonders about all the publicity. She had thought Loki would want to be a private person. But he's enjoying all the attention. He's enjoying the paparazzi following them, albeit from a respectful distance, as they walk to a black limousine.
Then she realizes it: of course he enjoys it. Paparazzi are those who follow celebrities and other important figures in pop culture. Important figures that the mainstream public worship, and hold high on a pedestal. He's intoxicated by the fame, by the attention, and he can't get enough of it. Fame and the respect of the people is what Loki's always wanted—the media is giving it to him, their new king.
It sickens her. She snaps back to reality when a man calls out, "Lord Loki, who is your lovely lady?" Cameras flash again. "Is she a goddess of Asgard?"
Jane blushes furiously and keeps her head down, but Loki frowns and says evenly, "Head up, Miss Foster." Nonetheless, he doesn't answer the question. She tries to pull her hand out of his arm, but he flexes his arm again. "Play nicely," he warns her.
"After you do," she bites back. They pause at the entrance to the car, where Loki spins her around to face him. The camera shutters go off furiously and here's a audible hum in the air as the people whispers among themselves. He brings a hand to her cheek.
"No," she says softly, furiously. "Not here, not to be documented for eternity."
He smirks at her. "I don't believe you have a choice, milady." And with that, he turns her face slightly to the car, tilting it up and throwing her off balance slightly. And he kisses her cheek, his lips lingering for a few seconds.
In those seconds, she realizes what he's done—at the angle they're standing, to the paparazzi it looks like they might be kissing. He's officially marked her as his, in the eyes of the rest of the world. Thor is probably watching this footage and having a fit.
Thor.
Thor.
She hasn't even seen or talked to him since he went back to Asgard, and here she is accepting the affections of his younger brother. What must he think of her?
Before she knows it, she's being shoved into the back of the car, Loki in after her. The door shuts, and it's just the two of them alone. The windows are darkly tinted, but as she looks out, she can see Darcy sliding into the passenger seat, her clipboard in hand.
However, this limousine has a black divider between the passengers and the driver.
In the darkness, she glowers at Loki. "What was that about?"
"Telling your dear Midgardians that no one is to take you from me."
At least he's honest.
"So I am your consort."
He narrows his eyes, eyes flashing red again. "Would you rather be my concubine?"
She shakes her head quickly.
"Then don't complain."
They are placed in the top floor of the Marriott hotel in Paris. Loki gives Jane specific guidelines—she is not to leave more than a five mile radius of the hotel, or if she is with him, no more than a one mile radius at any one time. She is to return to the hotel by ten PM. She is not to be left alone in a room with a man at any one time. She is to enjoy the city.
He actually gave her an order to "enjoy the city."
Oh, she will. Her parents live almost exactly five miles from the hotel, in a little suburb. She knows what she's doing the first day.
After the press conference, in which she practically acted as a lawn ornament, Loki informs her that the next day he is attending a summit with other European leaders to discuss economic conditions from eight AM to five PM. Tomorrow, he wants her back at the hotel by seven.
She has plenty of time to escape and visit her parents.
But she can't tell anyone. She doesn't want Loki knowing where her parents live.
Jane can hardly wait for the next morning.
Author's Note: There we go. Darcy's back and stirring up more mischief than the God of Mischief.
Read and Review! Chapter III is completed. I'll update when I get 15 more reviews for a total of 25.
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