Welcome to The Desolate Kingdom Series. TDKS consist of various frostiron angst and sorrow parts (stories) that are read individually and have no relation to each other. This is the sixth part. Reviews are always welcomed.

He misses him.

It happened in a blur of emotions and Loki hasn't had time to understand to situation. He lets his tears stream down his face as the cool breeze brushed against his cheek. The flowers in his hands has started to brown after hours of grasping it tightly, yet Loki doesn't let them go.

Loki stares blankly at the many more stalks left behind by others, some of whom he knew and the others, not so much. The States held a memorial in recognition of the terrible loss of a legacy. It was sweet, but Loki wishes that they hadn't. It makes everything that happened a reality. The pain is real. The loss is real. He isn't ready for this.

Loki brushes his hand through his neatly combed hair. He kept it short but long enough that it strays below the ears. Fat drops of tears splashes onto the flowers in his hand as he does so. The first time, Tony had dragged him to the barber for this; and Loki had been nothing but displeased, ignoring Tony for almost a week after.

Loki closes his eyes and inhales deeply. He did let his hair grow out for the past weeks in hopes of having Tony yell at him again. It is impossible, of course he knows that, but maybe, just maybe this is all a prank and Tony will jump on him and tug on his hair again.

It doesn't happen and he had it trimmed before he went to get the flowers. Flowers. Flowers. A small laugh escapes his lips as he shakes the bouquet lightly in his hands. It started out as a joke, Tony always an exaggerated opinion towards flowers. But now, Loki never appears without flowers on hand. Because.

He misses him.

He misses him so much.

He misses him too much.

Call it a blessing, call it a curse. From where Loki was from, outliving mere mortals were a norm. They aren't immortal, per say, just give or take 5000 years more to live. Blessing, curse, curse, blessing. It is a gray area to reside in.

"Tony, I-" Loki cuts himself off as he grips the bouquet tighter. He can't. What good will a confession do? Speaking from experience, which Loki had plenty of, nothing could change the past.

"It's not gonna hurt."

"You lie." Loki grouched. "It's all a lie."

"I'm trying to help you."

"Well, I don't need your help!" Loki argued. "I need-"

"To accept reality." Tony interrupted. "And the truth is, Loki, that I won't live forever."

"I can find a way!"

Tony sighed and shook his head. He had been trying to prepare Loki for the worst, which could be anytime now given how he ached with every movement and breathing was becoming a chore. Loki hadn't been receptive to the thought of another beloved leaving him.

"Lo," Tony whispered. "Look at me."

Loki didn't comply immediately, stubbornly facing his back to Tony, and Tony let him. It shouldn't be easy accepting, and Loki had every right to be obstinate about the matter. But that was exactly the reason that worries Tony. Loki would crumble in his own world if no one was there to hold his hand.

Loki finally turned around to look at Tony, a tear slipped from his eyes and onto Tony's hand. "I can't lose you too."

Tony chuckled. "Hey, look at us. You're as young and stunning as the day we've met! And I look like your grandfather."

Tony hushed his partner when he tried to protest. "Listen, death doesn't mean it's the end. I've outlived my life. But you, you can always go back to Asgard. You have a long life to lead, and I'm glad to be a part of it."

"I wished there could have been another way."

"Just stay with me." Tony confessed. "Till the end. I want you to be there."

"But of course, my love."

Tony smiled. "I love it when you say that."

More tears fall from his eyes as memories of Tony flashed across his mind. He doesn't hide his despondency as the sobs become audible and unconstrained. Loki pulls his knees up and buries his face in them to muffle a bawl.

The breeze wraps itself around his body, as if to console him, to comfort him but Loki can only lean into a void. Passers-by whisper gossips and shoot him pitying glances but he isn't ashamed of himself, he isn't ashamed of his love to his mortal. And Tony taught him that is was okay to cry.

While majority of his visits end on the same melancholic note, the minority didn't. On rare days, Loki would mindlessly discuss about work in the Stark Industries, on rarer occasions, he would share exciting news that happened back at home in the Tower.

Sometimes, it is difficult to think about anything else other than Tony. Because only with him, does Loki feel free for the first time. It is ok to cry, just as it is ok to feel lost and afraid. Loki chokes on his emotions as he relives the memories. Life is unfair to take away a brilliant man.

"I thought I'd find you here."

Loki doesn't look up, instead, he bites on his quivering lower lip to muffle his cries.

"Loki, brother." Thor kneels down to wrap his arm around Loki's shoulder and squeezed him gently. "The sun has almost set. It's time to go."

"Leave me be."

"Brother." Thor sighs and stands up after giving his brother a reassuring squeeze. "We'll wait for you before we begin dinner."

Loki sits on the grass for a while longer after Thor left. Time has since passed differently around here, the days are short and the nights are long. It is something Loki can never get used to. Loki wipes his face on his sleeves and stands up with the bouquet of flowers still in his hands. His heart clenched in longing as he reads the words on the gravestone again.

Anthony Edward Stark. 1970 - 2056. Iron Man.

He gently kisses his wedding band before he turns away and heads back to the tower, just as he does everyday. He'll be back tomorrow. And the day after that; and the day after that. Maybe then, the gaping hole in his heart will start to heal.

Just as it has been since last spring, and the spring before that, Loki will always come for Tony and he will for the rest of his long life.

A/N: Reviews are always welcomed.