Agent A: Displaced

You Will Call Me Master

The throbbing in her head dragged her out of what felt like an impossibly deep, dreamless sleep. She opened her eyes to find herself laid on top of an unfamiliar double bed. Her heart leapt and panic overrode her training as she tried to scramble off it.

A hot, sour wave of nausea hit her, forcing her back down onto the mattress, heart pounding in her chest. When it had subsided she took in her surroundings. Full length windows showed her the view of myriad skyscrapers that was unmistakably Manhattan but the room was bare, devoid of personality, like a minimalist hotel.

She found the door unlocked and slowly edged out of it into the dull grey hallway. One end of the corridor was dark, so she turned and headed in the opposite direction.

It opened out into an open plan living room and kitchen.

"Finally. You're awake." Loki was sat on a huge throne-like white chair positioned in the corner of two walls of full-length glass, watching her closely.

"Why did you bring me here?" She asked, finding it harder to get enough air into her lungs.

"I think you will be very useful to me, Little One."

"Don't call me that," she shot back.

"I will call you what I please," He rose slowly, hands gripping the arms of the ridiculous chair. He towered over her, looking down into her eyes as he lifted her chin.

His gaze flickered over the throbbing cut on her forehead and he reached out, sending a cold jolt through her skull. His long fingers came away smeared in blood.

"It's sightly inconvenient I can't heal this, you're in danger of getting blood on the carpet."

"Oh, I can fix it. Do you have a first aid kit?"

He gestured behind her, to a silent SHIELD agent who stood guard at the door. He soon returned with a familiar green and white medical box. Loki showed her into a bathroom tucked behind the vast kitchen and hovered in the doorway as she gently wiped the blood away with an antiseptic wipe.

As she pressed the gauze to her head to stem the bleeding, she noticed Loki's eyes roving down her body.

"Loki..." her voice was low and filled with warning.

"You will call me Master or you will not speak at all," he growled.

Then it's going to be very quiet around here, she thought. As she tried to squeeze past him out of the room he grabbed her, thrusting her into the doorframe. "Did you hear me?" He growled.

She glared back at him.

He shook her like a ragdoll, making her head throb. "I asked you a question."

"Yes. I heard you."

"Yes what?"

Was he really going to make her say it, she wondered, holding out a little bit longer.

Evidently out of patience, he dragged her out into the corridor and back towards the room she'd woken up in. She tried to pull her arm away, but his grip was unshakable.

"Perhaps a few days in chains will help loosen your tongue." He produced a set of manacles, held together with a thick metal bar, which he proceeded to jam onto her wrists.

"Hey, stop. You can't do this," she struggled against the heavy restraints as he secured them to the headboard with a thick length of chain.

She continued to protest, eliciting a sigh and roll of his eyes from her captor. He conjured a long length of cloth from nowhere and twisted it in his hands before gagging her with it. Filled with fury and indignation she tried to push the gag out of her mouth but he had secured it tightly behind her head before she had the chance.

He pushed her firmly down onto the bed and walked away. He looked back over his shoulder as he reached the doorway, a lusty smirk across his lips.