Loki has always identified himself as a master strategist. For centuries, Loki has sat on the right hand of Tyr, plotting strategies for battle, rostering the front lines to some of Asgard's most defiant and powerful wars. He has trained alongside the best warriors in Asgard and managed multiple times to save the best warriors, including his false brother, because of his own planning. He knew enemies. He studied them as he studied his magic. He could get into their minds and see exactly what the other side would be looking at. If there was anything that could remotely grant his likeness to the Aesir, it was his knack for planning battle. Though they may not realize it, the lives of a good majority of Asgard's most elite forces have been saved due to his careful plotting.
However, Loki also is knowledgeable of himself. He's lived with his own mind for centuries. He knows when he's wrong and where he's miscalculated. He is not perfect by any means, and he would be the first to admit that to himself, if not anyone else, especially when something falls by the wayside so severely as it has in the past couple of hours.
He has now been leveled twice by the giant green monster the Avengers affectionately call the "Hulk." He could count each broken rib within his body that was straining to heal itself, using every amount of energy he could muster. He could feel his nose realigning itself. Preservation is an immortal's first defense mechanism, and it was tiring him. His blood was rushing to fix the bruises that occurred all along his rib cage, legs, and face. He has suffered worse in battle, but being caught off guard was the most embarrassing.
His voice was heard in his head. Loki's constant internal struggle has become nearly secondary at this point.
It was her fault…
The mortals' poor excuse for torture was only a distraction he managed to block as he healed himself. He needed sleep – though it is not as necessary for him as it is for mortals, he had not slept in at least a month. It wasn't remotely healthy. The noise in his head wasn't exactly helping either.
She's the reason you have not succeeded yet.
You're wrong. She's going to be the reason for my success. Just you wait.
His body strained to pull force the tendrils of magic that snuck through the cracks of what attempted to stifle it.
Foolish, sentimental, child…
You know nothing of what it means to rule.
And neither do you, fallen Prince.
He shoved the voice out of his head. He needed to think. He needed to be present. No more miscalculations.
Where he lacked in magic, his mind made up for it, recalculating his next move as they pressed pointless question after pointless question, reiterated with jolts of electricity that hardly even bothered him. He knew the mortals thought by capturing him that they were winning. When in fact, they have only made their fates worse. The Chitauri grew restless. Thanos' grip on Loki's reigns tightened and he needed an out.
Perhaps he had been far too guarded.
Perhaps they needed to know their fate should he fail.
It took him several hours but he had managed to figure out the precise timing of when the guards would make their rounds to check on him. It was ridiculous – as if they could stop him should he make an attempt to escape. He sought to exercise such a strength to prove how dimwitted their security measures are.
He sought out the weakest link – the one who flitted away the moment he cast his gaze to him. He could tell who was most afraid and those would be easier to manipulate.
A couple well-placed threats and the guard was entering the chamber to give him food and Loki took the second's notice to multiply, ordering one of the guards to stop the cameras or he would snap the guard's neck. When they did, he killed him anyway, tossing him aside.
Too easy.
He took the mortals down within the small room that resided over his cell, each a dagger in their back. It was foolish of them to think he couldn't have seen them through the window of sorts.
When finished, he posed the guard who unleashed him up and cast a cloaking spell, making it appear as if he had never left his cell. It would be easy for him to fool them this way – if there was a physical body attached to the spell.
He cloaked the pile of bodies from the observation room, pushing over one so he could sit down and lean back in one of the chairs He'd wait for the show to begin.
He hadn't felt more alive in days – the chaos of it all made his blood pound in his ears.
All he needed to do now was wait for Jane Foster and they would be on their way. He was a patient man.
He knew she would come. Mortals would do anything to save another life, even those they did not know. It especially included Jane Foster. Intelligent woman she may be, but she would always be a mortal. She was charming like that.
Just as Jane was arguing with him, he was busy setting other things into motion. His soldiers had silently infiltrated the craft as he beckoned them to – it kept the Avengers and all of the others busy.
So, here they were. Loki had her restrained against him, preventing her from screaming or making a scene. He had let go of all illusions to brace himself for the coming fight.
This room was silent, save for Jane's labored breathing against his hand and the thud of the body who had just fallen over off of the bench, Mjolnir holding him in place. Thor would come soon enough to retrieve it – and possibly even him - and he would be right here waiting with his beloved.
"I am truly sorry, dear Jane," He said, weaving a spell to keep her hands behind her back so he might free up his hands to retrieve his daggers as they waited. He thought for a moment Jane would just cry and keep quiet, but no – she saw the small pile of the dead guards and began screaming. He rolled his eyes, stopping her voice before it deafened him. She made a choked noise and panicked – realizing she was mute once again.
"I know you had only the best of intentions, but it would seem I have you and all of your friends fooled. I do hope you had a lovely fuck with Thor but it is time to depart," he went on.
She gave him a black stare and he chuckled, cleaning his daggers.
"Was it really that awful you cannot say anything of it?" He asked, aghast, his hand rising to his throat in mock horror. "Was he that disappointing?" He pressed, moving forward to get closer to her hunched over form as she glared up at him. Perhaps… "Or did it not happen at all?"
It was then that she stomped on his foot, mouthing a "fuck you" before leaning on the wall with her tied hands bracing her body.
"Don't tempt me with a good time."
He gave her a wink before turning his attention back to the situation at hand. He was hearing heavy footsteps approaching and Mjolnir hummed. Just what he wanted.
He gave her a grin as the door opened quickly, revealing an angered Thor. Loki could see the lightning in his eyes just before his vision went blurry as Thor punched Loki in the face, landing him against the wall.
Loki laughed, rubbing his face. "You're back. Just in time."
Mjolnir broke through the glass of the cage as nothing is able to stop it from returning to Thor's hand. Due to the intrusion, the door below the cage opened and sent the dead guard down through the air – it was clear this cage had not been built for him, but rather, for the green monster.
He had little time to think before Thor lifted Mjolnir, about to crush his chest before Loki rolled out of the way. A clone appeared behind Thor, wielding one of the daggers he had cleaned off earlier and plunged it through Thor's armor. He knew it wouldn't harm him deeply but it would leave him distracted long enough for Loki to make way with Jane into the aircraft that had arrived for them.
Jane rushed to Thor's side, looking as though she were about to cry, but Loki moved quickly, pulling Jane along with him. She rebelled, twisting in his grip, but he pulled her closer regardless. She hit his chest and he deflected her abuses easily such that he could maneuver them away and out of the bottom of the ship. She was not at all pleased, her choked squeals were not at all music to his ears, but he had to do what he must, he told himself repeatedly.
"Shush, Jane. Accept your fate," He said, shaking her shoulders to get her to calm herself. He couldn't transport them if she was squirming like so, and surely Thor would be after them in a couple seconds and it would be mere moments for him to be taken down once again.
He was growing wary – his magic was nearly depleted and he still hadn't left the ship with Jane in tow. He doubted his idea for a short moment – it would be easily to leave the struggling mortal behind but he would no longer have leverage he required to remain unharmed and untouched by SHIELD and their weapons.
"Hold still, Jane," He insisted, holding her close to him, restraining her arms after she seemed to calm during his reverie. With one of the last efforts of his reserves, he cast them up to the upper floors, where he knew he could meet the ship instead of magicking them onto it.
She nearly stumbled on top of him upon landing on the top deck.
He was met almost instantly with guns cocked at him and Jane who would be the only reason they were not shooting. Regardless of the fact that bullets wouldn't injure him, they'd injure Jane.
He calculated his next move – he was surrounded. They would not shoot as long as Jane was in his possession, and no one could bother him.
He then grinned. "Good evening, gentleman. I request audience with your leader, Fury. We have a couple of things to discuss and then I'll be on my way. Let Thor know if tries anything again his lady will die."
When they didn't move, he moved his hand to Jane's neck and tightened.
"Now!"
Jane struggled in Loki's resilient grip as his hand moved to her neck. She froze – feeling it tighten. It was that moment that her voice returned – perhaps Loki wanted her to cry for help? But she didn't. She bit back her cries, remaining brave in the face of death.
"Loki, stop this," Jane pleaded, feeling his fingers tighten around her neck. "Please."
He didn't seem to listen to her.
"Loki!" It was Thor. He had come up followed by Fury and Tony. Tears raced down her cheek as Loki's hand tightened around her neck.
Thor had Mjolnir ready to launch at his brother.
"Just do it, Thor. Stop Loki. He's not going to listen to—" She choked as her air was cut off suddenly. Her vision was swimming.
"I knew I'd regret allowing you to speak," Loki hissed, annoyed. "What will it be, Thor? Your Jane or my escape? Come now, I do not think she has much time."
Jane knew this would be how it would end – she was foolish to believe that this would be any different. That he wouldn't harm her. That this wasn't his ploy all along…
"Loki, don't do this," Jane could hear Thor pleading. "You're not this cruel."
"Am I not?" Loki hissed back.
"Alright, I think we're done here," Jane heard Tony's voice and then, a blast from behind before they were falling. Loki's grip released as the both of them tumbled forward. But Loki was too fast. She heard Thor crying out and she thought for a moment maybe she had been killed.
But there was no such luck.
She felt a hand grip her ankle and the world began to spin around them with a faint, familiar smell of ozone. The pushing and pulling was nauseating – she hadn't an idea of what was happening until she heard foul, screeching noises surrounding her that were inhuman.
She moved to hoist herself onto all fours, her body almost immediately expelling the little amount of food she's had the past couple of days onto the slick and cold ground beneath her.
She warily looked up, trying to make sense of what had just happened. Loki's grip was still on her ankle. She cried out and kicked his face to get him away. He winced at the sudden contact, but it clearly did him little harm. He moved to stand up, grabbing her forearm and shoving her in one motion to another side of whatever room they were in, casting her effectively out of the way.
"How could you do this?" She screamed, still feeling nauseous from whatever Loki did to get them onto this hellhole of a ship. The aliens all paid little attention to her as they were more focused on something else. Loki was weak, it seemed, though he was equally efficient in barking commands in another tongue that the Chitauri creatures were capable of understanding.
She seemed to be in the command room, with a giant, digitalized screen in place of a window. The engines bellowed beneath them, indicating something was about to happen.
They were facing the helicarrier. Jane's adrenaline caused her mind to go into overdrive – what could they possibly be doing?
She crawled her way toward where Loki stood, his arms crossed.
They had found the primary engine and were preparing to strike when Loki felt a small hand on his arm.
"No!" She screamed at him, crying hysterically. "Please, don't."
He paused for a moment as the rest of the Chitauri on the ship only turned to look at the women but ignored her, waiting for his instruction.
He smiled.
"Poor little Jane," He said, taking a strand of hair that was in her face and tucked it behind her ear. "When will you realize? You cannot save everyone. This is how war works…" He said, and then turned back to the Chitauri and nodded. Within one blow by several other ships, the primary engine stopped and the helicarrier was on a steady descent downwards.
Jane screamed.
When Loki couldn't stand to hear her screams any more, he turned to her, wrapped the hysterical, shaking girl into his arms who attempted to fight him tooth and nail. Her hand managed to work its way up to his face to claw at him, but he held her against him, wrapping her arms around her body so she would not hurt herself and whispered a spell of sedation that made her fall slack into his arms.
He picked her up and placed her somewhere comfortable, using his cape as her makeshift comfort and he fell next to her, instructing the Chitauri to take them to Europe – Paris, to be exact. It was the first European country, as history would repeat, to fall to his rule so thus he made a point to own property on it. It was a quaint castle of sorts – a historical chateau that charmed him.
He remained where he was, guarding Jane as the hours ticked by. The Chitauri knew who Jane was. They did not like her as their master has likely articulated to them. Their master, of course, not being Loki himself.
The Chitauri were Thanos' personal spies on Loki and it was becoming evident and frightening.
But Loki did what he must – he needed to win. He couldn't risk whatever lay on the other side of losing.
So, as long as Loki was conscious and awake, they would not lay a hand on her. It was a battle to stay awake, to be sure. He was exhausted. His body had been fighting to keep him agile and ready to fight for hours, after Thor had repeatedly barraged him with assaults after his body was just over the giant green monster that managed to level him in a way he had not been for months.
He was used to Thor's abuse by now, however. He was a predictable fighter. He knew what needed to happen and when in order to maintain his stasis.
Still, he had not slept in weeks. He was growing weary and weak. His body was struggling to heal itself and soon he would likely force himself into draining what little magic he had left to stay hale and whole. It was a miracle he could even get Jane onto this ship.
He leaned his head against the wall, trying to stay awake, every so often looking to Jane's restless form. Randomly, she would stir and start to wake and he would reapply the spell, much to his chagrin. He didn't need her panicking or yelling at him on a ship such as this. Not with the Chitauri passing them with death glares.
It wasn't a pleasant ride.
However, France was a beautiful country. It reminded him very much of Vanaheim in a way, with all of its luscious greenery and farms. They were a very proud people while still satisfied with living a simple life. They accepted their defeat, as they have numerous times throughout history, because they knew they would not be able to keep their culture if they had not. He quite liked that aspect about them. Now that he no longer would have to worry so much about the United States, he might as well enjoy his time elsewhere.
When they arrived, Loki gathered Jane into his arms, the small girl unconsciously resting her head against his chest. If she were awake, she would be incredibly dissatisfied. He didn't imagine the next couple of days being at all pleasant, but luckily he would be busy enough to keep away from a potentially very angry girl.
He settled her into one of the guest bedrooms. He had already had his servants of sorts pick out clothing for her – they would have gone here within a couple of weeks had he not been picked up by the Hulk. He didn't think things would escalate as quickly as they did, but he was grateful that he was a thorough planner.
He knew, in the back of his mind, that this wouldn't last. But he was also Loki – he was always effective in ignoring the unpleasant parts of truths to sate him in the present time. It was his best weakness.