The Rise of Hel {Loki Laufeyson} Book Two

Chapter Twenty-Six

"Morning!" I chime as I enter the kitchen, grabbing a plate and pile pancakes onto it. The syrup pours smoothly over them and for some colour, I add some freshly cut strawberries to my dish, skipping over to the couch and plopping down on it.

"This is new..." Steve says, smiling at me.

"Yeah, I haven't seen you like this since... well, ever." Tony muses, taking a seat next to me and digging in.

"New year, new me." I smile up at him, shoving a piece of pancake into my mouth and chewing happily. Grief still grips me with it's painful talons but I've decided to push past that pain and remake myself into someone people will enjoy being around instead of the mopey girl down the hall with serious identity issues.

Tony looks me over, an unamused expression on his face. "Evident." He mutters. I look back at Steve who appears impressed by how I'm holding up. Little does he know that I'm still dying inside.

"I don't mean to spoil your mood, but you have a meeting to get to, little lady." Steve announces and claps me on the back. The force sends pain shooting through my spine and I wince, groaning slightly. He pulls away. "Sorry, sometimes, I don't know my own strength..."

I shrug it off, scooping another piece of pancake into my mouth. "Whatever, it's fine."

Tony gets up, grabbing my plate. "Get dressed, Natasha is waiting."

"Natasha?"

"Yep, your new partner. Natasha Romanov, the Black Widow." Tony grins and shoos me off to my room.

***

She flicks several buttons, her face glued to the sky as we ascend farther into the clouds. I watch her as she tilts the wheel from side to side, as if she can see where she is in the fluff. Obviously, she is looking for the Helicarrier.

When she supposedly spots it, she flies toward it faster than before. My body presses into my seat, as if I can fuse myself into the fabric. My hair whips wildly in the air and my seatbelt tightens around my torso.

Soon, we land and I run off, almost tempted to kiss the ground. I'd feel less sick jumping off of a building and killing myself than flying with Natasha.

A tall woman with long, shiny brown hair pulled back into a bun approaches us, her arms folded across her chest. She wears a S.H.I.E.L.D uniform, the signature eagle crest positioned over her heart. I don't think that it's a coincidence, I feel like it's part of some kind of allegiance pledge that you are obligated to don that symbol over your heart to signify your loyalty to S.H.I.E.L.D.

Her eyes, naturally soft and kind, squint and look us over. "You're late."

I glance at Natasha in my periphery. I catch her roll her eyes and nod in my direction. "She was doing her eyeliner." She mutters, unimpressed.

"Throw me under the bus, sure." I growl and the red-headed assassin gives a small smirk.

"Whatever," The woman dismisses it. "Just... follow me."

"Yes ma'am." I start after her but Natasha pulls me back, lowering her voice.

"That's Agent Maria Hill - try not to piss her off, okay?"

I blink at her. "What's that supposed to mean?" I hiss.

"Yeah - like that. Drop the cockiness and just follow my lead. Maybe you'll survive the day." Natasha orders and walks after Agent Hill. I trail along behind her, falling into step.

***

Each prisoner comes into the room individually. The guards perform the same protocol with each of them: Handcuffs, footcuffs, muzzles and other various steps.