Sorry it's been so long since I last updated. This chapter gave me grey hair! Hope you like it.

Ha! I think Morgan may have been - what is known in our household as - a 'Spooky Child'. :-/

'The Tesseract has awakened…' bit is taken directly from the movie.

The machine was finished, it could communicate with the cube whenever required and the portal could be opened long enough to send him through safely. Loki sat on a chair, the sceptre across his knee, and waited for The Other to arrive.

It was these quiet moments that Loki found difficult, when his thoughts had nowhere to go but inward. The Tesseract was corroding him like acid; it was peeling him down to his dark and bitter core. Oh, he had gone through the motions, played his part over the aeons because he knew what was expected of him but, beneath the veneer, he had concealed a decaying, rotten heart. The Tesseract had shown him the truth of who he really was.

He found the quiet moments difficult because it was then he thought of Morgan. How foolish he had been to have missed such a simple manipulation by their captors. He had fallen through an abyss, fallen so far from grace he had not thought there was anything left of him for Thanos to take except his life, but he had been wrong.

In the quiet moments, he could almost feel her fingers in his hair, her breath against his cheek; the memory twisted in his chest. He closed his eyes against it and let the soft blue glow of The Tesseract show him the way.

The Other stood before Thanos, his master, "The Tesseract has awakened. It is on a little world, a human world. They would wield its power but our ally knows its workings as they never will. He is ready to lead and our force, our Chitauri, will follow. The world will be his, the universe yours and the humans… what can they do but burn?

S.H.I.E.L.D Medical Centre, New York

"Good afternoon Doctor," Agent Coulson reached out and shook the young medic's hand, "I'm Agent Coulson, I'm here for a …"

"…a debriefing, yes I know," the doctor gave a wry smile, "she's been awake an hour or so but she's still groggy so you guys will need to wait a little longer before you can give her the third degree."

"Doctor Green, I assure you…"

Ignoring the platitudes Doctor Green got straight to the point, "Why all the sudden extra security Coulson? We've had one old guy standing guard for two days then, last night four heavily armed goons turn up."

Coulson sighed, "There's been a development. There was another… let's call it an intruder… at the research facility, in the same restricted area."

"I take it from the look on your face that this new one wasn't dead?"

"He was very much not dead, Doctor Green."

"Our mystery lady here was very lucky your response team got to her so quickly or she might still be dead. Who is she Agent?" Both men peered through the glass at the woman on the bed.

"I don't know but when I return from visiting Mister Stark I intend to find out."

Sixth century Britain

Morgan - 8 years old

Tintagel, Cornwall

Uther Pendragon pulled the curtains aside and stepped out in to the corridor; he adjusted his trousers with a self-satisfied look on his face. Merlin would be rewarded for this; the disguise was perfect and no one had been able to tell he wasn't Gorlois, not even Gorlois' wife. He smirked at the memory of their tryst. Ygraine had been worth the trouble. Oh yes, once tomorrow's battle was over he would have her anyway but it was so much better when they were willing - and she had just been very willing.

A movement in the shadows caught his eye; trained soldier that he was, he noted the size and build of his stalker and held no fear. This was just a child.

"Come in to the light," he commanded, certain of Merlin's magic disguising his face as that of the master of this hall. The little girl stepped out in to the glow from the tallow candles. The dark hair surrounding her face and the glitter of those black eyes told him without question this was Morgan, Gorlois' daughter.

"Go to bed, child," he said dismissively, finishing the adjustment of his clothes, but she did not move. He glanced up again and frowned, "Why do you stare at me so?" She was making him uncomfortable. Her face, pale as the moon, was expressionless but those piercing dark eyes disturbed him.

"You are not my father," she said quietly.

How could she possibly know? "Of course I am and you will feel my fist if you do not obey me," he barked, nervously.

"My father's blood will be on your hands Pendragon. I will not forget."

Uther Pendragon watched, aghast, as the little girl turned and disappeared back in to the shadows. He promised himself that, when he took Ygraine as his wife, he would beget a son without haste and this – this spectre - would be packed off to a convent as soon as expedient.

….

Aged 14

"My Lord," the nun bowed her head and gestured for him to sit. Uther perched uncomfortably on the bench.

"You received my missive?" she asked.

"Indeed, Sister, I did, otherwise I would not be here," he said impatiently. "Tell me what the child has done."

"May I be frank, my Lord?"

"I would prefer it."

"She is Godless. She has been resident here for six summers and in this time have seen her engage in such tricks and deceits that the Devil himself would be proud of. You may recall my previous letters?" the nun asked, pointedly. Uther avoided her stern gaze.

"Please. Tell me what has she done this time? What line has been crossed that you refuse to continue housing her?"

But the nun was persistent, "We thought you might come and remove her after her mother died."

"Sister Mary!"

"Very well then," the nun leaned forward conspiratorially, "she mended Sister Octavia's bowl."

Pendragon could not hold back the snort of disdain. Women mystified him, they clucked like hens at such trifles.

The old nun drew back from his scepticism, sniffing and pointing her nose in the air, "The bowl was a favourite, a gift from Sister Octavia's deceased brother. It smashed on the floor in to smithereens my Lord. Thousands of pieces. The child bent down and swept the pieces in to her arms. Her robes meant we could not see the magic take place but she handed Octavia her bowl back in one piece." The nun leant forward once more. "Octavia was so disturbed she dropped it again and fled."

He was no stranger to magic; Merlin was his closest advisor but Uther could not admit that to this woman. However, if Gorlois' brat had power then it needed to be nipped in the bud. His son, Arthur, would be king and he could not have the child meddling. Uther congratulated himself for having had the foresight to make plans before he left Tintagel.

"I understand your concern but fear not, Sister, for I have the answer. I have a prospective husband who is willing to…" he paused, "… overlook her shortcomings." But this will cost me, he thought. Vortigern will not take the girl without a substantial endowment. "I will remove the child from your house immediately. I thank you for your care."

…

The little girl sat at the far end of the convent library; she had her back to them and her nose buried in a large book. She did not look round but, as they entered, her words echoed through the hall, "Uther Pendragon. You can sell me to that brute, Vortigern, but do not think your sins will go unrewarded."

Sister Mary crossed herself.

Thank you to all the lovely reviewers for all your feedback, good and bad. I hope this chapter is showing some improvement.