AN: This chapter has been a very long time coming. Over a year, I have spent writing this one chapter because it didn't come easy like the others, but now through perseverance and sudden bouts of inspiration, here it is at last. I'm sorry that this has taken so long. If there are still any readers out there who have been following this story since 2012, I apologise, and hope that they will carry on reading, leaving comments and expressing their views, because if anything has kept me going when I couldn't move forward, it's been the reviews and the story favourites and such. So thank you dear readers. Thanks for the support and read on.

To The Thinking Woman, my beta: I hope you're out there somewhere, reading this and smiling. If you are, drop me a line.

One last thing. WARNING: PLEASE BE AWARE THAT THIS CHAPTER DESCRIBES GRAPHIC EVENTS OF A VIOLENT/SEXUAL NATURE. There is a scene which can only be described as graphic torture.

READER DISCRETION IS STRONGLY ADVISED.

TARNISHED

*Chapter Eleven: Blood-bound*

(At this hour) Lie at my mercy all mine enemies - Shakespeare

Loki stared down at the cold crystal surfaces, marvelling at their frozen beauty and admiring for a moment the simple, deceitfully innocent way they caught the light and refracted it.

For a moment he closed his eyes, breathing heavily. Across his mind flashed the image of Pepper's latest dream, the one she had made for herself, where her soul travelled through the dreamplanes of the earth to find the soul of her mate, who was thousands of miles away.

For some reason his memory decided to replay the expressions on her face over and over as she looked at her lover in the dream; he could see as though he had been in front of her the staggering amount of desolation, the desperate longing and the quiet tenderness he had witnessed in the months he'd worked undercover at their company. Furtively in the shadows Loki had watched disguised as another human man … and coveted.

Stark's good fortune…he didn't deserve it. Out of all the man's riches, Loki had taken his most precious one. Pepper was his now. But her defiance and her power had been unexpected. Loki had underestimated her, but after tonight, he wasn't sure of what it would take for her to do so again; if she even managed it .

He opened his bloodshot eyes again and stared with cold purpose at the crystals as they, too, glittered malevolently. He lowered his hand and placed the glass tumbler on the desk, his movements careful and measured, his face impassive. His decision was made. The corner of his mouth turned up slightly as he lingered on the minutiae of his plan. If only Odin could see him now: stripped of his old glory and power, and still very much a menace. A force to be reckoned with. A king yet standing, undefeated and ready to carve his own way.

King Loki would carve his path with blood and the sacrifices of lesser beings; no different to the mortal kings of old. No different to Laufey … or even Odin himself. Warmongers, both of them, for all of Odin's talk of peace and prosperity via stability and wisdom.

He curled his long fingers around the crystals and cradled them in his palms. As he turned them and the facets caught the light, they bounced off his white skin, shining liquidly like the ripples of Lake Nostos, their place of origin. Holding one each in his hands, he remained still and simply felt their surprisingly heavy weight. Then he swung both arms in an arc high over his head and brought his palms smacking together. The crystals impacted and crashed together with a high sound of tinkling broken glass. Their solid state immediately changed with the force of the impact, shattering into a million fragments as fine as sand swirling in the air. For a moment, the dust remained still in mid-air, as if frozen in time as long as time flowed, a bright coloured cloud of glitter that resembled clusters of galaxies. Then they split into numerous small clusters of powder and slithered their way across ground and wall, revolving through the air, heading towards the windows, the door, melting through the floorboards out of sight.

"Ta med mig en häxa." Bring me a witch.

Deep in the darkness of the frosty forest, unnatural lights flashed through the windows of an old manor house.

The woman lying on a bed on her back looked up at her partner, moaning with abandon in sexual ecstasy. Their pelvises rubbed frantically in a well-timed, controlled rhythm of hedonistic need.

She pounded harder and the woman screamed, hair strewn on the pillow, eyes wild, face contorted into helpless bliss. She licked her fingertips and brought her hand to where their bodies joined, rubbing with sensual expertise. Soon their rhythm faltered and the woman bucked, hips jerking spasmodically. The pleasure was intense and created white noise across the conscious level of her mind. She grinned, head thrown back, eyes closed, vocalising her pleasure in raw sounds as primal as her ancestors.

She collapsed next to her partner, heaving and blissfully satiated. After a while she turned her head and stared at the other, who was in equal parts trying to even out her breathing and sobbing from the powerful sensations her body was wracked with.

Brita grinned in satisfaction and bumped her flank closer to her, throwing a leg on top of hers. One hand curled over her breast, testing the texture difference between the skin and the puckered nipple. She mewled and rubbed her leg on her flank, too sensitive to bear the touch. Brita smiled lasciviously and inserted her middle finger into her mouth, slowly drawing it out, leaving it glistening with her saliva, and carefully traced it over her full lips, puffy and bruised with passionate kisses. Her breathing immediately evened out and she was unconscious almost immediately. The room went quiet.

Brita closed her eyes and let out a decidedly satisfied sigh. Having sex, especially the kind she'd just indulged in for the past three hours, always gave her a powerful buzz unlike almost anything else; her powers practically glowed afterwards, and she felt twice as strong, riding a torrent of endorphins. Performing magic even of the most basic nature straight after a sex marathon always left her achingly satisfied and full of herself, her beauty and strength.

Soon after she fell asleep, pleasant sparks and tingles dancing on her fingertips as she dreamed.

Outside, unsettling shadows of pure black travelled through the air like the wind, until they came to rest outside the window of the darkened bedroom. After a pause, they spread out over the entire surface of the house, like clinging vines of ivy, sprawling over the walls, stretching towards the front door, covering the roof. Then, with the barest breath of air, they slid through the cracks of the windows and the front door, creeping inside with stealth, undetected. And as they travelled inside the house, as insubstantial and incorporeal as smoke, the two women slept on in the bedroom up the stairs, oblivious.

Brita jerked upright, gasping for air through bronchi that seemed tight as needle eyes. She was covered in a cold sweat and her skin felt as though it had been abraded with sandpaper. When she could breathe somewhat normally, her rationality returned. And with it, her senses re-awakened.

The hairs on her body stood up on end, electrified. Her sixth sense sharpened and she cast it into the darkness of her surroundings, seeking the danger. There was something wrong in here, she could feel it. She turned to her left and saw the girl she'd picked up at the bar sprawled on her back, naked and fast asleep, the sheet tucked loosely around her legs.

Brita quickly got out of bed and hastily scrambled to put some clothes on her back. On the nightstand, gleaming innocently, sat her ouroboros pendant. She wrapped the long chain about her neck over and over until it sat tight. Without a backward glance, Brita exited her bedroom and went out into the landing.

Immediately, she saw what had caused her to wake up. There was a strange faint light coming from downstairs. On silent feet, she descended the stairs step by quiet step. Her feet were bare, and made little to no sound. The light's source was in the living room just to the right side of the staircase; its eerie rays flickered strangely through the wooden banister and onto the wall, casting shadows that seemed to be alive with movement. Brita tensed. Waiting for movement of any kind, she considered the situation. She was inebriated and rather occupied with other things when she and the girl had come in through the door, locked in an embrace and fumbling with buttons, zips and straps. She hadn't taken the time to lock the door and windows as she usually did, but a perfunctory protection spell hastily muttered before her lips began wandering over satiny skin should have taken care of it. Brita had never slipped like this; even of this day and age, häxor had to be very, very careful of how they conducted their lifestyle in the eyes of the public. Though witchcraft was deeply rooted in religious tradition in Sweden, her matriarchs had still been burnt at the stake or decapitated centuries past just for being what they were. Today truly wasn't so very different. And because of her history, Brita had always been careful.

Which meant that whatever was happening, whoever had done this had swept her protective spells aside and found a way inside her home.

Hearing no sounds, Brita carefully tried to peer into the living room below as much as she could without leaving her protective crouch on the stairs, craning her neck as much as possible. Her sixth sense stretched gently towards her unseen surroundings. There was no one inside the house except for herself and her guest. But the living room cried out with the unmistakeable heavy press in the air that came when strong magick was performed. Brita cautiously descended the steps once more and stopped when she was at the landing, her front door to her back. The closer she walked, the more suppressive the air became.

She doubled back towards the front door, keeping her wary senses on the living room. She pressed her palm on the walls and they immediately lit up with scores of runes, the Norse alphabet most prominent among them. When she removed her palm from the dry surface, the runes flared out of sight, completely invisible and the wall looked normal once more.

Her heart beat erratically now. Her spells had not been cast aside, because they were still intact.

Someone had found a way in without disturbing anything – not an impossible feat clearly, but one that very few could have managed. Certainly no one less practiced than Brita, and she was a powerful practitioner.

She walked back and into the living room.

There, a foreign sight greeted her stunned eyes.

Writhing round and round each other closely, glowing wraith-like things floated in mid-air. They circled constantly around a small sphere of bright blue light, no bigger than a marble, but so strong that it lit up the entire room without hardship. And the wraiths whirled close together in the air around it, over and over.

Suddenly Brita gasped and looked down towards her feet. Lifting her sole, she realised that rivulets of black-red blood were oozing from small cuts all over the surface of her foot. The floor was littered with a strange glittering dust as sharp as razors, and where her blood touched it, it glowed even more brightly. She could only stare, mute and terrified, at the pulsating blue marble of light suspended in mid-air and its whirling shadowy wraiths. Not a single thing, magical or otherwise came to her mind, so that she might protect herself. This screamed danger, danger, danger. But she was paralysed. And fascinated, too. Hungry.

When the wraiths stopped moving, Brita was ready for them. She stood stock-still as they advanced closer and closer to her. Her eyes glittered eerily. A small smirk crossed her transfixed features just before the wraiths enveloped her form completely.

This was what she had been waiting for her entire life. Limitless power all hers for the taking.

Loki was pleased.

His summoning spell had worked, bringing him a witch in remarkably little time. She would learn to accept her position, whether she wished it or not.

And by the looks of it, she did wish it.

Brita Malstrom was relatively young in terms of Midgardian age, a good practitioner of magic, and very much the useful tool Loki needed in order to subdue Pepper once and for all.

She was power-hungry; he could see it in her eyes when she looked at him, in the shrewd manner she carried herself and bent to his wishes. She understood that he was a very, very powerful man, and that there was much for her to be gained merely by being in his presence.

Whatever he asked her to do, she complied with. And this pleased him greatly. It reminded him of the brief time he spent on the throne of Odin whilst he Slept and his brother was banished to a distant land. That had been the best time of Loki's life.

She was nothing but a lowly mortal bug he could squash under his feet whenever he felt like it, but she'd do for now.

He approached her at her work bench, studying the meticulous way she crafted spells and enchantments. "How long until it is complete?"

Brita looked up from the ancient manuscripts and brewing paraphernalia strewn on the bench. Her face was haggard and the skin almost sunken with fatigue – but her eyes were a sharp contrast to it, for they glowed with an inner fire that belied her eagerness for the task she was carrying out.

"I need ingredients that will not be easy to acquire, and once I have them it will be a few days before it is ready."

Loki's gaze was cold. "You'll get whatever you need in the shortest amount of time possible. You've connections, have you not, in the realm of your practice? Use them to get me what I need."

Brita nodded, her hands trembling slightly, and she bent back towards her brew, adding a dark liquid to it carefully drip by drip. The constant use of magic of this kind was taking its toll on her. She looked crinkled and as though she'd aged fifteen years in the space of a few days, consumed as she was by the power that Loki fed her in order to amplify her abilities. Once her purpose was served, he would make sure to dispose of her properly.

"You have three days Brita. Don't disappoint me."

Loki swept out of the room leaving the witch to her work, and headed upstairs to the west bedroom. The corridor was quiet and his own footfalls barely echoed in the empty space. A sigil glowed brightly on the wooden door as he approached, then winked out of sight at his touch. He pushed the door open and walked inside.

When he saw her, his heart rate kicked up a few notches as excitement bloomed in his chest. Loki smiled.

Pepper sat on the bed inside the cold room, silent and withdrawn. One day she was in what she believed to be her own home, and the next she wakes up and she's somewhere else entirely, somewhere unfamiliar. The state of disrepair and general lack of care of the room she was in hinted at a dark story. For the first time in what she was now realising with a sinking feeling was probably weeks, she was lucid.

For the first time in a long time, she knew what was happening.

For the first time Pepper understood that she was in danger.

As she heard footsteps outside the door breaking the oppressive silence that had permeated the environment since she woke up, she tensed and her posture turned rigid in preparation of what she might face.

A tall man with pale skin and shimmering green eyes entered the room as though he owned it and everything inside, including her. The breath froze in her lungs.

He looked at her and smiled – a bloom of malicious intent on his handsome face, glittering eyes storming with hidden plans, the look of a hungry shark.

And hungry he was, as he looked at her. What he was hungry for, Pepper didn't know, but she knew it would bide ill for her. She quaked under his gaze as her body locked down and screamed at her to get away from the danger. But the second she looked into his eyes, she knew.

Whoever he was, whatever he wanted and intended to do, she was going nowhere.

"Hello Pepper."

Instinct, or a benevolent force of some kind whispered in her ear to keep quiet and to let him speak. She tightened her lips and looked at him silently, willing him to tell her what seemed inevitable.

His teeth gleamed brightly despite the cold grey light of day filtering from the filthy glass pane of the window behind the bed. "I see you are awake. You must be wondering about all this," he swept his hand indicating the mouldy stained walls of the room, "and why you're here, who I am. All in due time. Are you hungry?"

Since the second she regained her wits and realised that there was something immensely wrong in the situation she was in, wherever she was, Pepper had hardened herself in preparation for the worst. She suspected that this was her captor. It was clear to her that she was being held here against her will – wherever here was.

She wouldn't yield so much as an inch to this man. If anything was going to happen whilst she was here, it would all be against her will.

Pepper remained silent. Loki smirked and drew closer, enjoying the frisson of fear she could not fully subdue, shrinking back away from him. Loki walked until he reached her side and sat next to her on the bed. His hand reached out towards her face, brushing her hair away from her cheek. Pepper's stomach dropped at his vicinity. His gaze was intense and held shadows she did not want to see, couldn't stand their existence and that they were meant for her.

"I can see you're going to be stubborn about this. Your will is made of iron though, so it doesn't surprise me. I've admired this trait of you for a while now, you know. You are a very rare woman, Virginia Potts."

Bile rose in her throat at the déjà-vu, and for a moment she was back in that office, fear scouring her flesh as Obadiah Stane poured himself a drink less than fifteen feet away from her as she acquired the files that he'd hidden and which would put him in jail for a long time. –You, are a very rare woman. Tony doesn't know how lucky he is.-

Tony.

Something must have shifted on her face; whatever her expression was, he saw it and his own face shuttered down, a resolute glint in his eyes. "Since you will not ask that which you are dying to know, I will tell you. But where to begin…there is so much…so much to tell of this strange story that has seen us bound together in unfathomable ways."

Brita summoned Loki. Her eyes were bloodshot, her whole appearance screamed of fatigue and sickness – as though her flesh was corrupting from the inside out. But she'd done it, it was ready.

The Marking. It was by far her best piece of work. Weaving magic of this nature would have been impossible for her to do at any time before Loki walked into her life. She had much to be grateful for. Waiting in silent contemplation for her master to arrive, Brita scratched at her wrist. As if coming out of a daze, she surveyed the basement which had been her workroom, séance, and living space.

It was dark, and it reeked of burnt static and spells so powerful, (so malignant) they felt abrasive to the skin. She probably hadn't eaten in a while. She had been sleeping very little, if at all. But this was good. This was her goal.

The power he'd bestowed on her was hers. She would keep it.

The door that lead upstairs to the rest of the house creaked open, and footsteps began descending the stairs. Her face became hungry once more. She hoped he'd be pleased with her work.

The next time someone entered Pepper's room of confinement, she was ready. When the door opened, she was already on her feet and stood proud and defiant, back against the wall, eyes hooded and mouth clamped shut.

Brita paused on the threshold, leaving the door deceptively open as though ready to let its prisoner go, but neither were fools. They knew Pepper wasn't going anywhere any time soon.

Brita looked at the tall slender woman, and noticed her defiant body language – even if the slight trembling of her frame could not be hidden. She curled her lip over her teeth. Brita could tell that this woman would not bow easily to Loki, nor to herself. She liked it; it was a sign that things were going to be more interesting than she'd thought.

"Kommer hit."

The woman spoke to her, but Pepper had no idea what she said. She studied the other woman, who was taller than herself and probably heavier, although there was a malnourished, unkempt air about her, as though she was ill or not sleeping properly. Her face was haggard though Pepper guessed her to be in her early thirties, and there were purplish bags under her eyes. The thing that unsettled Pepper about this woman's appearance was the strange colour of her eyes. She had two different coloured irises, one brown, one green, and both were bloodshot.

The woman stepped imperceptibly closer and something, an inner instinct, filled Pepper with dread. She spoke again, repeating what she'd said before. Pepper's confusion must have shown on her face, because the other woman repeated herself and this time pointed a finger to an area of the floor in front of her. Instinctively, Pepper pushed her back against the wall, her muscles rigid and locked in denial.

Brita realised she was going to have to do something to make the prisoner do her bidding.

When she stretched her mouth in a grin for a split second Pepper could have sworn that a very long serpentine tongue flickered out between her large-ish teeth, and she recoiled in horror, a gasp leaving her throat. Brita cackled loudly and the very furniture inside the room seemed to vibrate with it. The bed started shaking slightly and so did the small table in the corner, their rattling against the wooden floor loud in the stillness of the room.

Brita inclined her head, her gaze fixed on Pepper, whose insides had twisted in dread at the sudden display of power, and when she spoke it was briefly again, two words.

"Serva est." She flicked her wrists slightly. Pepper felt her body lock itself down and suddenly move forward towards the woman, even though none of her limbs were moving, like a magnet being pulled forwards. Her eyes widened and she screamed. Brita's eyes flickered wide when Pepper made a sudden convulsive turn and fell down onto the floor, trying to hang on with the tips of her fingers, fighting against the force that was inexorably pulling her towards the door.

Her surprise lasted all of two seconds. Even though she'd managed to move, Pepper had not broken free of the spell and was still moving towards Brita, her fingers still scrabbling for purchase on the wooden floor. Brita cackled again – and then wrapped her cold hand around Pepper's slim ankle and tugged her out of the room.

Loki seemed disappointed, or at least he tried to look that way. Something told Pepper that he was enjoying this all very much, and of course it made sense. the harder you fought, the more it excited them. She willed herself to be strong and not cry, but she was so, so afraid. Loki paced leisurely about the room, an impish smile on his face now that she was here, and he openly looked her over. Pepper fought the urge to squirm under his gaze.

"You looking at me like that makes me feel so wicked." A pause, and then, "I like it."

"Brita, my dear assistant here, is going to help me do a spot of trouble Pepper. I have such delights in store for you. " Loki grinned, "There's so much to do. We'd better get started." He pointed to a door on the right, his manner that of a gracious host. "Shall we?" Pepper whipped her head to look at Brita, who was biting her lip in anticipation, chuckling childishly. Loki extended a hand towards Pepper and took her wrist, leading her with him.

"Where are you taking me?" Loki appeared delighted that she'd spoken when he turned to look at her. "I'm very glad you asked that Pepper, but I won't spoil the fun. It's a surprise." They made their way down a darkened stairway into what Pepper guessed to be a basement. It was poorly lit and it stank of mould, decades' worth of dust, of earth, and something else. Pepper felt dread rise when she saw a workbench where most of the light was, littered with scientific equipment and- Was that a cauldron?

Brita stood over what seemed to be her workstation, stirring liquids and handling powders of all kinds. There were strangely shaped objects inside glass jars, and a pestle and mortar containing some black powder. Everything reeked of dead matter and Pepper drew back. Loki grabbed her by the arms and forced her to remain close to him. "Let me go. What are we doing? What are you gonna do to me?"

"You've been a very bad girl Pepper. I have…shall we say abilities? – That I've been using in order to keep you as my guest. You don't believe me? Watch closely."

He opened his palm as though mimicking a flower's blooming and Pepper watched in shock as one of the jars on the table sailed through the air unaided to land on it. Loki closed his fist around what seemed to be a dead lizard – Pepper trembled in revulsion – and when he opened it the reptile looked whole again. Pepper yelled and recoiled against his chest as the lizard moved and turned its beady eyes on her as though it hadn't been a mere carcass not two seconds ago.

Loki tightened his left arm around her, smirking with superiority and unrestrained glee at her display of fear. He turned his head and rested his jaw against her temple. He inhaled the scent of her hair and his fingers gentled on her arm, stroking softly in tiny circles. His voice was low and measured. "This is my room of red delights, Pepper. And they're all for you."

Pepper wanted to curl in on herself as his breath skittered over her ear, but had nowhere to go. He was holding her very close to him, and standing directly behind her as he was, any kind of movement would have brought them closer. She didn't know if she could stand it. Her revulsion and her fear were so strong it was a wonder she was still standing.

"Let us begin Brita. Bring the needle and the ink. And I'm going to need the room to be brighter; wouldn't want to get it wrong."

The needle as it turned out, was several inches long and thick, not at all sewing-like. This was a monster of a thing. Pepper suddenly tried to make a dash for the stairs behind her but then she was immobilised in mid-air and moved across the room again just like it had happened upstairs when Brita came to her room.

Broken cries echoed around the room as she was lowered to the ground. Loki levitated a cushioned bench and halted it right underneath her. She was still in mid-air, frozen and unable to move. He moved to stand over her.

Brita increased the strength of the light directly over them until it was beam-bright.

He touched Pepper's cheek and her jaw, cold fingers resting on her throat, where her pulse hammered with terror and anticipated pain. She slowly lowered through the air until she was lying on the bench. Loki then held her fists captive and touched her wrist. A golden rope of cold metal appeared and wrapped itself around it like a coiling snake, holding her fast to the bench; the same happened with her ankles. Pepper immediately struggled and squirmed, trying to move and escape her bonds, but it was no use, they held fast. Loki smiled at her gently and shook his head.

He looked at her for a moment, and Pepper stared back helplessly as her heart strummed a crazy beat inside her chest. She wished she could pass out so she wouldn't have to deal with the situation, but her consciousness didn't comply.

His thumb moved gently across her lips and Pepper tried to turn her head away. Loki frowned and a moment later a coil slithered around her throat and she could no longer turn her head an inch. Fear made her cry out and she instinctively tried to bring her hands up to her throat to remove the restraint, but not a single part of her body could budge from its position.

"Let me go!"

"Stop it Pepper."

"Let me go!"

"I can't do that Pepper."

"Stop! Please, stop!"

"Do not make me gag you Pepper."

Brita spoke but it was a language Pepper didn't understand. Loki tilted his chin behind him where she was and nodded briefly. Next Pepper saw Brita come to stand up next to him, the instruments on a table directly by her side.

"Don't! Don't! Don't do this!"

Loki placed his hand on her head, thumb stroking her forehead soothingly. "You've left me no choice Pepper. You've tried to break free so many times that this is the only way to bind you. I hadn't planned on doing this, but you've brought this on yourself. Now you must hold still and stop fighting, like a good girl. This … will only hurt a bit, I promise."

"No! NOO!"

"You're being shockingly recalcitrant. Brita." At his unspoken command, Brita handed him the bowl with the paste she'd made and then a small dagger. Loki took them from her. He slashed a finger with the blade and let a few drops of blood fall into the bowl, mixing it with the paste.

Brita started chanting in Latin. "Tenes ea in catenae vincula ab deus qui decernet suus fatalis."

Pepper suddenly arched her back and screamed in pain. Loki took the needle and attached a small phial to one of the ends, which was loaded with some of the reddish paste. His blood sealed the magic and Brita's incantation would bind Pepper to him. With this ritual, she would belong to him. His every whim would be hers to obey. She would never escape it.

He blew on the needle's point which became bright hot as though it had been placed on an open flame. He whisked his top layer of clothing away and remained naked to the hilt. Brita took the blade and slashed his chest shallowly, collecting the blood in a small phial.

Pepper felt time slow and almost grind to a halt. She was internally screaming and screaming, wishing for this to be nothing but a dream, for someone to help her, to escape this fate—

-And that's when Loki pierced her flesh with the hot needle.

Pepper's eyes bugged out and she screamed so loud a vein in her eye burst.

Brita chanted again, and splashed red blood on her body where the needle pierced.

And Loki tattooed her flesh with an artisan's poetry, carving himself, his Mark, onto her flesh, searing it with fire and putting the magical ink inside her bloodstream.

And Pepper drowned in a world of pain. She screamed and screamed out loud, eyes unseeing, thrashing as much as the restraints allowed her. Then she started foaming at the mouth.

Brita watched it all with eyes feverish and awash with awe.

And Loki painted her still, even when Pepper suddenly went slack – her restraints disappearing as suddenly as they had come – and her head lolled to the side. When her hand dropped to the side of the padded bench she was prostrate on, rivulets of red ran down to her fingertips, where they dripped onto the floor.

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