THE DARK RAVEN

VICTORIES & CONFRONTATIONS

The bright red flag stands proudly in the centre of the living area which is filled with an eerie silence. Loki mirrors my cautious steps, an untrustworthy ally but the only one I have. Who knew this game was so tense, huh?

"We know you're here, Romanoff" I smirk. "May as well get your defeat over and done with."

"My, my, you are a bitchy one aren't you?" Natasha replies, landing in a feline crouch opposite Loki and I.

Where the hell she came from is beyond me.

"Don't I know it" I pounce forward, wrapping my hands around her throat.

She responds by bringing her knees up to meet my unprotected stomach and I stumble back, using the few seconds I have to grab my katana from their place across my back. Natasha lunges towards me with the speed of a vicious snake and I slice clumsily through the air in a rare panic, stopping my blades abruptly in a cross to block the red-headed power house. She takes a few steps back, pulling out a gun from the belt around her waist.

"That's breaking the rules" I pant.

"Pain inducing bullets. Hurt like a bitch but they're harmless" Natasha smirks.

"Shame you won't get the chance to use them" Loki says lightheartedly, appearing in a flash behind Natasha though I could swear he was stood in the doorway just a mere second ago.

God of mischief he calls himself? Quite rightly.
Natasha's head whips around in a blur, though not before Loki plunges his dagger into her upper arm, causing her to drop the gun. She gasps in shock and ducks before Loki can land another strike, rolling across the floor and landing in a cat-like crouch. Loki grabs the gun and attempts to shoot Natasha as she runs up the wall, back flipping over my arcing katana. I run after her and Loki joins, our eyes meeting in an unspoken understanding.
We have a plan.
I jump onto the edge of the sofa and launch myself over the flag to Natasha who's bolting towards it with lightning speed. Loki is speeding towards her side and as her arm stretches out for the flag, we simultaneously slam into her, knocking her down from both sides with a painful force. She kicks her leg up between my thighs and I squeak in pain, stumbling backwards into the corner of the sofa, its unforgiving, hard edge sending a jolt of pain through my lower back.
Natasha and Loki are fighting in a hand-to-hand combat now and to my horror, Loki was losing very much very fast.
I blink the water clouding my vision away, the last remnants of physical injury gathering In my bottom eyelashes and slice my katana in an arc, printing two shallow gashes across Natasha's thighs. I hope those pants weren't expensive.
On and on Loki and I battle with Natasha, attacking and defending though none of us were exceeding towards winning the flag. We counteract eachother, Loki's cunningness and my skill against Nat's ruthless demeanour.                  No wonder the black widow is so famous.
It's then I finally realise that no one would come out of this fight a winner. We'd have to race for the victory.
A glimmer of understanding passes across Natasha's wide eyes and I know she realises it too.

"Loki stay here. This game won't be won if we keep fighting" I say breathlessly.

Loki nods and sighs in relief as Natasha moves from him and we both race towards the flag, my katana clattering to the floor, red hair and brunette locks flying out behind our retreating figures. I reach my hand out for the flag and catch sight of the discarded gun on the floor between us and the target. Deciding one last little move can't hurt, I kick it towards Natasha with my left foot and she slows by a fraction as it skids past her. That's all I need.
A second later my fingers wrap around the pole of the flag, slipping slightly as their sweat meets the smooth cylinder and I lift it up.
F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s voice rings throughout the room.

"Congratulations, Adaline Nightrose and Loki Laufeyson. You are now crowned the victors of the 77th annual hunger games."

I share a cheeky smile with Loki, proud of our achievement.

Then, I pass out.

My eyes flutter open and I sit up groggily, rubbing them before realising that I
A. Magically ended up in my bed with my wounds bandaged.
And
B. Steve is sat right beside me. With cuts all over him.

"Hi there" he says, resting his chin on his clasped hands.

His white t-shirt is pulled tight against him, shoulders broad and tense as he leans forward, elbows propped up on his thighs. Those thighs.

"What happened?" I ask, pulling the covers up to my chin self-consciously.

"You passed out."

"That doesn't sound right."

"Yeah, we all figured that with you being an assassin and all it was pretty strange of you to just pass out like that" Steve frowns. "We had Banner run some tests on you."

"Without my permission?"

"For your own safety."

"And?" I prompt.

"And I'd like to know why you thought not eating after a night you barely slept before getting yourself into a very physical game with the Avengers was a good idea. Tests suggest a strong lack of sleep and nutrition."

In truth, I did have another nightmare last night, but I'm not about to tell Captain America that.

"I guess I'm still adjusting to living here that's all" I shrug. "And I forgot to eat. Easy thing to do."

"You sure that's it?" Steve asks concerned.

"Yes" I reply shortly. "Now can you please leave? I need to change."

"Sure."

Steve walks to the door but pauses, hand hovering hesitantly above the handle, fingertips brushing against the cold silver.

"Quick question though. What was all that about? You know, right before you almost killed me?" He points to the numerous cuts that pepper his face and the stitch on his forehead.

I feel a pang of guilt, mixed with the strange desire to tend to him, though his injuries had been tended to enough that my xenia wasn't needed.
I shake it away.

"You mean the flirting? It's a simple tactic of distraction, Steve. You should know that."

Steve clears his throat.

"Of course. Yeah, sorry . . ."

Awkward silence.

"You leant in" I burst out, unthinkingly.

I can feel the heat rise to the surface of my cheeks as Steve hesitates as if struggling for a response.

"The game had me all over-excited I guess. I didn't see any harm in playing along."

"Right" I whisper.

"But-"

"It's just a game, Steve" I turn my head away before he can say anything else, desperate for him to leave so I can shower and figure out how much dignity I have left after my body decided to pass out.

"I know" Steve smiles. "Also, Barton is forcing us all to watch the rest of The Hunger Games series so don't take too long."

"Noted" I respond bluntly before he leaves the room.

I collapse back onto my pillow with a sigh and stare at the plain white ceiling above.
What the fuck just happened?