It was early afternoon when they let her into the chamber. Fury had already briefed her: she was only here because she was an expert on Norse mythology. She had the best understanding of these gods.

Well, that was what they told her. The reality, she reminded herself, was probably quite different. Loki confused even the most able scholars; he was a complexity which divided them, and with every theory, there arose at least two which would contradict it.

When she found him standing there, she simply paused. She wasn't a fool, she knew he knew she was there, and a soft laugh fell from his lips.

"Is there any particular reason you feel compelled to watch me, mortal?"

Loki turned to face her, his emerald eyes glinting like chips of broken bottle glass. She did not tremble though, or even waver. She'd seen his face through cameras and windows; she was used to it. He was as imposing in person as he was on camera, and she inwardly thought he was an intrigue. A puzzle to be solved.

A wry smile curved her mouth.

"Curious thing, aren't you?" she remarked, her gaze assessing. "A tangle of intricacies. What a confused being you must be."

His brow elevated, and she felt a flicker of satisfaction at realising she had piqued his interest, even if it was only slightly.

"Go on."

"You seek approval," she said, meandering around the cage and strolling towards the glass. "You believe that conquering this realm will win you points. Respect, even. But I wonder if you even understand this world, Loki Laufeyson."

His jaw tensed at that, and he took a step forward, his eyes icy.

"You presume much, little mortal."

"Ah, so I'm right. How quaint." She laughed quietly, and looked at him, unafraid, her blue eyes sparkling with mirth. He was much taller than her, much more striking, but she knew she could walk away at any moment. Unlike the many others, Loki did not inspire fear in her.

He tilted his head, studying her. His eyes flickered; she was not one he could fathom quickly, and he listened, faintly intrigued by her.

"I know you're going to get out," she continued calmly. "You let yourself get captured. You're ten steps ahead of everyone here. I can see it. You hide it well, but your eyes are far too expressive."

Loki suddenly grinned, wide, amused.

"Are you psychoanalysing me, dear?"

So he knows about Freud, her mind thought briefly. Hmm. Interesting. Doubt they have psychotherapy on Asgard; otherwise he'd have had sessions long ago.

She raised an eyebrow. "Freud?"

His smile never faltered. "Many fascinating theories came from that man's mind."

"And you're a classic case of 'problems stemming from childhood'," she replied, somewhat sardonically. He cocked his head in acquiescence, eyes flashing only briefly.

"Well put," he said softly. "But you never answered my question, mortal."

She rolled her eyes.

"No. I have far too many of my own difficulties to even contemplate untangling yours. You're twisted and deluded; god knows what your mind's like."

Her eyes appraised him standing there. He was regal even when caged; he reeked of superiority. There was no denying he truly believed he should rule over Earth. But there was no way he could. "Seven billion people? Truly?"

"Of course." His voice was calm. "I will be your realm's king, and every single one of you shall kneel."

"Not me." She gazed at him unflinchingly. "That is not my way. I have never deferred to anyone; you will hardly change that, I think."

"Are you giving me a challenge, little mortal?" His eyes gleamed, and he took a step forward. "How tempting of you… I accept."

She smiled dryly. "You would."

She paused, measuring her next words.

"Care to tell me why you chose Midgard?"

Loki was visibly surprised by the speech that fell from her lips.

Old Norse.

He tilted his head, his green eyes calculating.

"I have never met a mortal who knows the language of Asgard," he says softly, the same vernacular rolling in his mouth. "Intriguing."

"Yes, well, believe it or not, it is actually taught here on Midgard," she replied dryly. "Not widely, but it can be learned."

"And they sent you here. To see if I can be seduced into surrender by you, the one who speaks my tongue." He smirked. "I see. Well, Ms Manning… I am afraid I shall have to disappoint you."

The fact that he knew her name did not surprise her in the least; he was a god, and a powerful one at that. He could have a thousand abilities – telepathy seemed almost a given. It did not mean she accepted it, however, and her eyes narrowed.

"Skim my mind again, and I will not hesitate to blow you sky-high."

He laughed. "My dear Eva, your bullets cannot harm me. None of your feeble mortal weapons can. Your threats are meaningless, lítteinn."

Her eyebrow lifted at that word. "Am I so little?"

"What an obvious question. Of course you are. You all are, to my kind."

"Would that be æsir, or jötnar?"

She knew she was treading a thin line; Thor had warned her not to bring the subject up. But she couldn't resist; the fact that she had called him Laufeyson instead of Odinson had rankled him, and she gained some form of twisted pleasure from it. Sure enough, his eyes darkened, and he walked forwards, menace crawling over his skin, shaping his expression.

"Have a care how you speak."

"Why?" Her shrug was elegant. "I neither know nor respect you. You are a complete stranger; it matters not to me how I address you."

His sudden smile threw her off guard. The look in his eyes was almost predatory, and Eva felt a ripple of unease slither its way down her spine. She felt as though she were about to fall straight into a trap – a trap she was all but in the dark to.

"Oh, how wrong you are." His tone was triumphant, laced with more than a little amusement. "How very wrong you are, Ms Manning. How very wrong indeed."

She took a step back, uneasy. He was playing a game which she was not privy to; it left her off-balance, blind. She stared at him, trying to guess his motives, his next move. He simply smiled.

"You will kneel. In time."

"I'm one mortal. I do not think I am that significant."

His head cocked. "Oh no. But you present a challenge, my dear; one you made it far too easy for me to accept. A chase. A game, if you will. And I fully intend to play you. In every… single… way."

His voice had dropped to a low purr, and it both unnerved her and – she realised in horror – aroused her. And judging by the smirk on his face, he knew it. Eva realised she had had enough of him. She wanted out; never mind what Fury had wanted. Enough was enough. She wouldn't crack him – at least, not yet. She forced her cheeks to cool, and fixed him with an iron stare, though her heart was thundering with apprehension.

"It will not happen. You will lose, and we will win. As we always have done."

She turned on her heel and left, almost desperate to leave the chamber. She did not see Loki's smile, or hear his murmured reply.

"Ah, but there is always a first time for everything."

Three days afterwards, and the world watched as a tall, poised being arose from the rubble of the city of New York, proudly proclaiming himself King.

The Avengers had been defeated. Any immediate resistance was all but eradicated.

Four months later, and the world had been brought to its knees.

Loki had won.

A/N: Hello! I hope you're intrigued by this, it was begging to be written. I will post the next chapter asap!

Lightning xoxo