The Prince's Prisoner

Avengers

Chapter Three - Avengers. Enjoy!

Loki was thrown back into the marble stairway, the rocks cracking and splitting under his strength, as he rose, a dent was left in his wake.

Aiming his sceptre towards the brightly coloured hero, he smirked, emerald eyes glistened with exhilaration and determination. The sapphire beam was ceased to shoot by the sound of an incoming aircraft. The Quinjet.

"Loki, drop the weapon and stand down"

Aria stayed tense, waiting to see Loki's reaction to Natasha's words.

Impossibly fast, Loki shoots at the Quinjet, Nastasha only missing the beam by inches. Using the distraction to his advantage, the great Captain lunges, his shield aimed right for its target. But as if only a fly, Loki flicks the shield out of his way, shooting the mighty hero off his feet.

Leaning over him, Loki sneered "Kneel"

Kicking his feet out from underneath him, their positions switch.

"Not today!" the Captain grits, before once again being knocked down.

Aria, one of the only people left on open ground, worried for the safety at the once great warrior, who seemed to have lost some his skill while being trapped in the ice.

Everyone paused, as blasted over the entire block is AC/DC's 'Shoot to Thrill'.

Aria struggles to contain her laughter, finally feeling relief as the familiar red and gold suit bursts through the sky, towards the green caped man, shooting him to the ground

Loki stumbles to his feet, watching calculatingly as Steve Rogers moves beside Iron Man.

"Make your move, Reindeer Games" Tony mocks, removing the face of his suit.

Loki does just that.

One second Aria is watching the show, and the next she is locked in a vice-grip.

"Aria" Tony shouts, stepping forward, but Loki's sceptre lightly touching her throat forces him to freeze.

"Beautiful name" Loki whispers down her ear, his breath tickling her hair.

"Don't talk to her" Tony snarled, his worrying and protective sides showing.

"You see how this is going to work now, Stark. You can't control m-" Loki's tirade was cut off by Aria kicking back, right into an area no man wishes to be injured.

Loki lets go in shock and pain, long enough for Aria to run to Tony, and away from danger.

Surprisingly calm, the Norse God raises his arms, surrendering.

Waiting on the Quinjet, Steve and Tony mutter to themselves, glancing occasionally at the cuffed God opposite.

Aria observes him, mentally noting down the way calm way he keeps his posture, his royal upbringing present, also the way his right hand fingers tap silently against his left hand. It was clear he could overhear the conversation the other men were having, meaning his hearing must be heightened. Occasionally he would smirk, as if re-living a fond memory or hearing a small joke. His eyes would focus on one point, but not in a daydreaming manner, but as if that one point held secrets unknown to others. Just as quickly as she thought it, his eyes snapped to her own, trapping her in his gaze.

'Aria'

She gasped, tearing her eyes away.

'There is nothing to be afraid of little one...yet'