In his red-eyed glance Rowan saw frozen wastes, cities burning, pain, devastation…

She broke eye contact. No, she thought. Not so fast. She steeled her mind, gathered her strength, and looked at him again. In for a penny…His right eyebrow was cocked quizzically at her, his eyes back to their emerald hue. She took two steps to her left.

Loki took two steps to his right.

She took two steps to her right.

Loki took two steps to his left.

He was following her like a caged tiger gone mad with boredom.

"We should leave", offered Thor nervously.

"So what are your intentions here? To bore him to death?" Rowan asked Thor after they had left the cell. S.H.I.E.L.D. had let Thor take Loki back to Asgard with a promise of Asgardian justice, but this seemed more like the punishment of a sullen teenager suspended from school.

"You see he is given nothing and no one to make mischief with."

"You saw him taunting me in there. You do not think he will try and make mischief with me?"

Thor smiled. "He has not seen a woman in some time." He saw that this did not amuse Rowan and sighed. "Director Fury assured us you among all his agents could perhaps bring Loki back to reason. I believe he is right. Your mind is strong".

"I appreciate your confidence in my abilities"

Thor turned to leave. "And I appreciate the fact that there seems to be at least one other he can not drive mad."

"What happened to the guards he came in contact with?"

"They leapt off the remains of the bifrost. " Thor looked back at her before striding off. "Good day Rowan Vinter."

In Asgard, even the night was golden. God, it is beautiful here, Rowan thought, sitting in her window overlooking the Great Hall. Like fairy tales. And just as in fairy tales, there was a handsome prince, a good king, and a mad villain. She once thought fairy tales were for children, but recent events had proven that heroes could be real.

Rowan tucked herself into her sumptuous bed. Like everything in Asgard, it was the most. Everything here was almost too much for the senses. The most comfortable, the most delicious, the most beautiful. She thought of the emeralds in Loki's eyes and blinked hard. No. He killed for fun, drove people mad for laughs. People she knew. Agent Coulson -her mentor, her friend. She tucked herself between the soft (the softest!) sheets, and soon dozed off.

She woke hazily and sensed there was something not right. When her eyes finally found their focus, the first thing she saw was a shadow on the wall. A man. A tall man. Horns.

NO!

Before she could move, he was on her. Lightning fast and much too strong, he loomed above her, straddling her legs, holding her hands down. This was the Loki the Earth knew, the boots, the cape, the helmet. She looked up at him and struggled against his might even though she knew it was useless. She wouldn't let him think she was so easily conquered.

"What, no scepter? You disappoint me trickster."

He smirked. Did he do nothing else but smirk? Had he ever smiled? "You Midgard women are a feisty lot." His gaze traveled the length of her. "I like that. So much more satisfying when you finally submit." He leaned in close to the nape of her neck, and inhaled deeply, and then breathing out said, "You always submit."

He took both her wrists in his left hand as his right brushed her cheek. "So lovely", he breathed, his voice like poisoned honey in her ear. His hand moved to the strap of her pink nightgown, pushing it out of his way as his lips grazed her shoulder. There was no fighting him, for despite all of her training his strength was overpowering. She stilled and awaited his worst.

His hand continued its trail downwards. His palm reached her left breast and cupped it gently. "So soft", he murmured, as the tip of his index finger circled began to circle her nipple through the soft pink silk of her gown. It quickly grew hard in spite of herself. She didn't have to see the smirk this time – she could feel it.

On he went, his elegant hand spreading wide across her stomach, and then down to the outside of her thigh. He slowly pushed the edge of her gown up slightly, and then gripping her thigh, pulled her leg away from the other, apart, exposed.

This is it, I am not strong, I have disappointed everyone…

His long fingers traced circles on the soft flesh of her inner thigh. Her breath came in short gasps, her head turned to the side. He could have her, but not her mind. No, not her mind.

It was only when he slipped one graceful finger inside of her, so gently, so very gently, that she realized how wet she had become. She had never been so wet in her life. She looked at the handsome god above her as he raised the dripping finger to his mouth and tasted it. He looked her in the eyes. "So sweet."

She clamped her eyes shut, and when she opened them again he was gone.

A dream, just a dream she said to herself over and over. Gripping the sheets to herself, she could still feel the weight of him on her, his hands upon her. And she was still so wet.