"You will make me a missile," the bald man said.
"No," was her answer, and the acted accordingly.
It was a long time coming, Tony should have known that.
Life doesn't measure a great deal of "good" without having it's due sooner or later, as in "bad", she thought with her head underwater, consciousness slowly slipping away from her.
It was fine. She didn't want to be awake anyway. It only meant more pain and suffering, and she had enough of that for now.
But before she could loose herself to the darkness, her head was ripped out from the liquid with such a power that she was sure one-two handfuls of her hair will remain in her tormentor's hand by the end of the session.
The arc-reactor in her chest ached painfully as she glared into Raza's grinning face.
"Will you do it?" he asked with a thick accent.
She spat the water into his eyes coloured rosy from the blood.
"Fuck you."
Having found herself once again submerged, she figured that this might have not been the right answer.
They were unoriginal and repetitive, and they planned to continue on with it until she gave in. Except when they let her rest, alone thankfully, save for her monsters. Usually after they had beaten her into half oblivion.
At least Yinsen won't have to endure it any longer. The man was brave as well as foolish; and he was the one who paid the price for her stubbornness.
At least he had been reunited with his family. Or so he believed he will be. Tony didn't even have that solace.
She remembered her father's sneers all too well when reminded that instead of a son, he has her. And though Mother was there, she couldn't or wouldn't dare to do anything when the "five minutes" - as Aunt Peggy called it - was upon Howard.
At least she was good to her. Tony was always more than happy to go on a vacation with her, and cherished every moment of it.
And then there is the fact that she believed in the gods of an entirely different Parthenon. Gods she had proof of existing, unlike the God of Christians.
She coughed up water she accidentally swallowed, trying to ignore the sound of Raza tapping his fingers against his knee rhythmically.
"What about now?"
"Let me think about it," she said, playing at being thoughtful for a second, "No."
The feeling of her face breaking the surface of the water was slowly becoming familiar.
"One last chance," the man said, warning in his tone. She laughed; did he truly think that it'd intimidate her?
She was walking around with metal shrapnels in her chance, threatening to enter her heart were the magnet to be pulled out, threatening to end her at any moment.
"Or what? You'll kill me? And say good-bye to your missile in the same breath?"
Not like she'd ever their... Requiest. That's what happens when the woman first-hand experiences the terror and pain the weapons designed by her create.
Just how many children had her life's work orphaned or worse? How many innocents had to suffer more than she does now, because of war between two powers, and her supplying them with the weapons necessary?
Even if one was without her consent or knowledge.
A guard hit her across the jaw, hard, so hard that it seemed as if the whole ground had started shaking.
As soon as her ear finished ringing, she realised it was not entirely her imagination. The cave did shake, dust falling from the top.
It didn't matter, one day or another, this whole ordeal will end before the day is done.
Raza shouted something she couldn't comprehend, and two men immediately exited the small torture chamber before running back inside as if the hounds of Hell were on their heels.
And actually, they were, as it turned out. The two overgrown wolf-looking beasts tore the door down, as if it hadn't been made from eight-inch thick steel, followed by their mistress a moment later, smoke, heat and the light of fire entering behind her through the whole. She stood a good head taller than the tallest man in the room, and the long leather jacket adorned with primitave, though beautiful, metal ornaments made her easily looking somehow the most dangerous as well.
Or perhaps it was the two furious beasts next to her.
Raza smiled and said something Tony did understand, for she had heard him say it before.
The cave was filled by the sound of the machine guns.
If there were dogs who could look bored and bemused, those were these two as the bullets slammed into an unseen force-field, then fell harmlessly onto the ground.
The black haired woman sighed, straightening to her full height.
"Are you quite finished?" she asked as she held out her hand, then lifted it higher, the bullets following her movement. Like a puppet does the puppeteer's. The men glared in shock, and satisfaction sparkled in the green eyes.
"Release her and I might find it in myself to let you live."
Someone behind Tony's back shouted something, which, judging from her expression turning from gleeful to cold, did not win her liking.
"Freya," she said in a sweet tone, stepping forward and laying a hand on the bigger creature's head, "Can you believe what he just said? What do you think, what should our response be?"
The dog bared her teeth in a snarl. The woman scratched her behind the ear.
"I like your plan. Do proceed with it."
Tony did not see the beast move, only the hig-pitched scream and growling. Then she was suddenly being pulled backwards, and she saw the silver gleam of a knife, sharp enough to cut her throat with ease.
After a flash of green, the grip of the hand which held her by the shoulder eased up and Raza slumped to the ground like a bag of potatoes.
The second-in-command immediately fell onto his knees, apparently begging.
"I don't want your money," the woman said, distasteful, "See, you hurt somebody rather dear to me. I've come to burn this rat's whole to the ground."
The ominous presence in the room grew, unsettling the dogs even more. She sighed.
"By the way, I lied," she said, turning back to the man before waving at the hounds, "Do as you please."
It didn't take three whole minutes, or so it seemed to the engineer. Tony gave a stupid laugh as she looked around in the blood-bathed room; so much destruction in so little time..
"What has been done can't be undone," the woman said to nobody in particular, "Learn that well. Although I guess there is no point now."
She turned and stood, dressed in black leather, green cape and crimson blood, watching her and waiting until finally the hysterical laughter finally died out."Are you all right?"
Because such was the goddess Loki. Goddess of Lies, Trickery and Chaos, sometimes a warrior, sometimes a friend, sometimes more than that.
And sometimes something like a mother. And Tony liked her for it.
"Do I look like I'm okay?" she asked, sniffing, because apparently she had started crying sometime ago. Stress, or whatever the doctors say can do that.
"No," Loki said simply, with a strange look in her eyes, patting the other hound's head, while probably questioning her mental sanity.
Tony knows she would if it had been the other way around.
"Where the Hell have you been?"
"I've been delayed. By a troll, an angry brother and a winged horse."
"A winged horse?" she asked with a small hiccup. Loki feigned not to notice.
"Yes. Frightening when angered. Even more so when it's a shieldmaiden turned by the backlash of a spell. Even if she brought it upon herself all alone." Tony showed away Freya's head from herself as she attempted to lick her.
"Sif?"
"Who else? And Heimdall wouldn't inform me about it until I didn't returned his dearest niece to her original form."
"That asshole."
"Couldn't have said it better myself," Loki answered her alt voice slowly morphing into baritone.
"You know I don't like it when you're a man," Tony pouted, which was answered by a laugh in turn, as the hair receded from the deity's shoulder, as if it was being drawn into the skull, until it barely reached the lower part of her... His neck. It was never easy to tell which one was Loki.
"Dearest, I know, though I do not see why does gender matter to you so much. However as I was introduced to Mr. Potts as a mortal man, let's not shock him to death by my true appearance. He's stressed out enough as it is. Digesting the fact that I'm a stuff of myths and legends will be enough for him now as it is," he pulled her up gently, "Now, let's get you home, you damsel in distress."
"Home," she murmured, bearing with being called "damsel" for the time being. She'll get back at this god of her's later, "Is there such a thing?"
"You just have to look for it at the right place."
"Is there such a place?"
"You'll have to ask Mr. Potts and the Lady Rhodes about this," Loki said, his fingers caressing her tortured scalp, easing the pain with magic, possibly. She was too tired to care. "Now, sleep."
"Don't tell me what to do."
He chuckled.
"I wouldn't dream of it. Frey, Freya. Come."
It took Tony a few moment's to process that soft sounds wrapped themselves around them, coming from Loki.
It was a melody, foreign to her ears, but welcome nonetheless. Then she realised that the god was, in fact, singing; it was too long ago since she heard anybody sing, least of all a lullaby from another planet, which sounded a whole symphony in this cave of shadows and silence.
So she let sleep embrace her.
This time however, there were no nightmares.
Based on this gifset - post/96477702023/genderbend-frostiron-au-while
Frey and Freya are not the actual gods. Loki just named the dogs after them, to mock them.
And this happens when I'm bored in school.
