The Shadow [a marvel fanfiction]

Avengers: Chapter Three

Marie was sent out for reconnaissance. According to S.H.I.E.L.D.'s files, Loki was partial to making dramatic entrances, and Stuttgart happened to be playing host to some fancy black-tie event. That was how Marie found herself slipping between extravagant shadows, listening to posh voices and snooty comments and the clink of champagne glasses while scanning the room for anything out of place among the aristocrats.

It was her first solo mission—and she felt wholly unprepared. Peoples' safety depended on her ability to find Loki before he could do any (or, much) damage. The task sat heavy on her chest and, for once, Marie was grateful she couldn't feel her shaking hands and pounding heart.

The attendees began to gather around the host, who was making a speech, and effectively cut off Marie's view of the room. Grumbling to herself, she dove into the shadow of a nearby marble column and slithered up towards the empty balcony.

Unobstructed views from a dark vantage point? Why didn't I think of that earlier?

Marie materialized in the darkness and stepped forward to peer over the railing. A growing sense of unease settled over her. Marie forced herself to breathe as she eyed the various entrances to the ballroom. She tried to convince herself she was just being paranoid. She had to stay calm and focused. There wasn't any time for her to panic—

"Are you not underdressed for the occasion?"

Marie started, disappearing and reappearing a foot away from the god.

Loki leaned against the wall, tapping his fingers against his scepter to the classical music. He wore an immaculate suit and his ever-present mischievous smile. He moved towards her and twirled the scepter in his hand.

"You are a curious thing. Agent Barton has a lot to say about you, but so little information," he sighed. "It only creates more questions."

She was completely frozen. She could feel the humming of the scepter's energy; a soft, alluring pulse that ran over her skin and slowed her racing heart. Marie clenched her fists and dug her nails into her palms to keep herself focused.

"Hand-Hand over the-the-the scepter," Marie stuttered. Loki's smile only widened.

"So much power contained in such a pathetic being. How pitiful."

Marie flinched. It was pathetic. She was pathetic. Trying to demand Loki to hand over his scepter? As if she could control the will of a god. She has been and always would be nothing.

"If you will excuse me—"

Marie's trembling hand flew out and held Loki in his place. He stared at her in mild surprise as she grit her teeth and battled herself. I get to decide my own worthlessness. Not him.

"Maybe-Maybe I am pathetic," she said slowly. "But I-I will not—I will not let you walk past me."

"I do enjoy a challenge," Loki mused.

The blow came out of nowhere.

Loki's scepter shattered her cheekbone. Marie reeled backwards and tried to project a forcefield. A long dagger sliced through her arm before she could move. Another strike to her knee forced her to the ground.

"But you, my dear, are hardly worth it."

Marie was moving through molasses. Blood dribbled onto the marble floor and her cheek ballooned with raw pain. Her arms couldn't find the strength to push herself up. She blinked slowly and watched her double-vision of Loki blur into one. The god disappeared down the staircase and screams erupted.