The title comes from a quote in Dune by Frank Herbert: "I must rule with eye and claw — as the hawk among lesser birds."

Funny thing about the 'mind control' was that it wasn't that controlling. It wasn't like having someone forcing his every move, but rather more like having an annoying voice in his head that would nag him to do certain things. He could resist or twist what the voice was saying to a degree, but it didn't take away his ability to reason. Or at least Clint had thought so until he heard the 'Grand Plan' being told to him in their small meeting room.

"Just to make sure, this is all that's needed up to that point? Then the massive showdown with the alien fleet at our backs would be at Stark Tower?"

Loki preened, "I believe it to be a rather fitting spot. After we are victorious we can begin to smooth out the particulars of the next stage when I have dethroned their leader."

Clint tried not to eye the map on the table in distaste. "Not to be rude, but is this the best you can come up with?" Who was he kidding? He did mean to be rude. Rude got people's attentions, it got the job done.

The temperature in the room plummeted as Loki slowly looked up from where he had been making marks on the map. For as washed out as he looked he nearly thrummed with manic energy as he started his tirade, "How dare you question my plan? You who have the lifespan of a gnat? Do you even comprehend the-"

Clint held up both hands in supplication, halting what he would bet would be an impressive hissy fit just littered with reminders of his mortality. "First thing, Boss, is it really your plan? Something tells me you're not quite invested in this if you came up with 'Operation: Kill Everything That Doesn't Kneel' by yourself. Secondly, I'm currently your operative. That means I have a vested interest in how everything plays out. You want me to help you with your objectives? I'm helping by pointing out that the means you're using to get your objectives is going to get us all dead. Well, either captured, dead or dying and wishing we were dead."

Loki shifted his gaze from the staff clutched in his hand to Clint in seeming confusion. Did he honestly think Clint would stand by and watch while they were all dragged into something as poorly thought out as this?

"You've got alien friends who are counting on you succeeding, I know. I also know you're from Space-Viking land and your kind hasn't come down from their shiny pedestals to mingle with us for ages, but this isn't how a war can be fought here anymore; you're using tactics that went out centuries ago. One giant, bloody battle will not subdue the unwashed masses and it will not assure you victory over anything. That's why in order to win you'll have people like me who are gonna point out exactly what will go wrong. At least then we can prepare for it."

Clint spread the files he had on the 'Avenger Initiative' on the table between them.

"For one thing there are too many variables that you cannot account for or accurately predict, even with basic knowledge of some of the major players. Your current plan involves pissing these people off to the point where they'd work together even if they hated each other – if only to kick your ass. It's actually a common tactic; even sports teams use it to inspire players. It's not something you generally want to hand over to your enemies on a silver platter. So if you want humanity to work with you instead of against you, it would be best to scrap that mentality from all future plans."

Time to show why he was one of the best agents S.H.I.E.L.D. has. Had.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. has no shortage of enemies, remember? Even without your glow-stick, you won't have that hard of a time gathering support. That's even discounting using their own shady tactics against them by revealing several high profile moves they've made. Moves that would turn public favor against them. While they're busy chasing shadows and being scrutinized by the people they're trying to protect it will be much easier and less costly to obtain the current goals."

He tried not to show his nervousness as he thought up what would be the most convincing arguments. The presence in the back of his head had been eerily silent throughout his explanation so far.

"I know what you're thinking, Boss. 'I'm an evil alien overlord and I don't need the support of any of these worthless insects.' If you want to rule the insects it's gonna be a lot easier if they also think that it's a good idea. All you'd need to do is prove your 'God of Mischief' moniker right by being sneaky and clever instead of smashing everything until it cries uncle."

Clint took a deep breath and looked Loki in the face unflinchingly, "Do you want glory, or do you want results?"

The desperate gleam in the god's eyes had turned into something far more sane and calculating. It was as soon as he noticed the change that Clint felt his legs buckle beneath him as the foreign presence of mind that had partially guided his movements started to completely retreat and fade.

The compulsion to obey was gone – but not the desire to work together for a common goal. Clint had seen what humanity had to offer, it was time to see if a god could do better.

"Tell me more." It was no longer a command, but a request.