Symphony of Lies

Chapter 4 - Indecision

Impatience surged through Tony as he waited for the god to open the door. He checked his watch and groaned. It was a quarter to midnight already and he had a board meeting in the morning. He didn't usually require much sleep before the meetings, but tomorrow he would have to deal with an angry Pepper.

His mind continued to wander, so he didn't, at first, hear Loki's derisive permission to enter. The Asgardian's voice sounded a second time, clearer and more annoyed.

"Stark, do you mind,? I've played eight concerts in the last seven days and it is not the norm for me to wait for the clamouring fans while the loiter outside of my chamber. They mainly storm in of their own accord."

The sarcasm, or that's what he hoped it was, grated against Tony's pride. He wasn't a 'fan'. He didn't know quite what he was in that moment. One thing was definite though, he was not about to walk away from this.

Not as well looked after as those in the foyer, the door squealed on its hinges as Tony pushed it slowly open, not having the faintest clue what to expect.

For all I know, Loki could have some sadistic torture chamber rigged up in here.

His heartbeat seemed to quicken at the idea. It had been a while since been put in this kind of danger. No, Loki seemed to eloquent for that kind of thing.

Eyes adjusting to the candlelight, he squinted. A cello was on the floor, leaning unceremoniously on a pile of handwritten sheet god of Mischief was lying on his back on a low couch, hands gnarled into intricate knots, face contorted in concentration or irritation. Tony allowed himself the luxury of watching this fascinating being for a few seconds, before speaking.

"I'm not here for you to sign my boobs if that's what you're thinking," he joked, "anyway, I was invited, care to explain why?"

The Asgardian paused before replying, his mouth squirming into a tight line.

"Mr Stark, I am expecting an explanation as to why you took it upon yourself to attend my last three concerts, even though the programme was utterly identical on every night."

Jeez, he gets to the point much quicker than his brother.Tony loved to compare the gods, but he would never voice his observations, for fear of decapitation, or worse.

"Can't a man enjoy some lovely music now and again?"

"When the musician threw him out of a skyscraper, I would argue that he can't."

Loki was smirking, and even though the Stark Tower encounter was still a sore spot for Tony, he chuckled to himself. So, the god was funny. At least when he wasn't trying to kill you, he was funny. Loki's eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, Tony noticed. He was suddenly aware that he was standing in a room with the Norse god of Chaos and, in spite of it, enjoying a joke.

"Stark - you haven't answered my question. Why did you come back?"

Green eyes met Tony's as the god sat up and rested his shoulders against the mirrored wall. The look of piercing inquiry made Tony think that he was prying into something very private. He didn't want to look weak in front of a man who could kill him so easily, but he had to know what Loki's music was doing to him.

"I...I don't know, okay Loki. Your music, it just does something to me?"

He hadn't meant to make that a question. He hadn't meant to make it sound so ineffectual either. It made him uncomfortable to imagine the ways in which Loki could affect him. Music didn't even require magic. What else could the god do to him? The feeling of safety that Loki's smile had created was diminishing rapidly.

Loki sighed when he heard Stark's answer. He had thought that one who could defy the gods, might possibly have been able to understand his music, but no. Here was just another human who wanted to feel included. He closed his eyes, now aware of a growing headache that had arrived from the effort of concealing his presence in Midgard. Stark's gaze lingered on him, he could tell. It took effort not to return the eye contact.

"For Odin's sake, Stark, you cannot imagine the depths of my music. I find it irritating that you think you can."

"I know that it makes me feel more...alive."

The Man of Iron was tentative without his armour to protect him.

"Don't fool yourself. The music was not intended to boost your joie de vivre, any more than it was intended to make Thor sing nursery rhymes."

Stark looked wounded at this cynicism. He took a step back and shoved his hands into the pocket of his jacket, becoming more defensive.

"Your music is what I want it to be."

Rage tore at Loki.

"NO," he said forcefully, "my music belongs to me, others will only interpret it wrongly, besmirching it with hasty assumptions and fickle human stereotypes. I do not know why I share it with you Midgardians."

Loki opened his eyes to gauge Stark's reaction to this truth and was shocked to see a tear running down the human's cheek.

What was this?

Vulnerability surround the mortal, who now seemed so fragile. Indecision seized Loki. If a declaration such as that which he had just uttered could cause Stark such pain, maybe he was wrong about the human. The Man of Iron's hands were balled in frustration, though he made no move to vent his anger.

Hating himself for pushing one so valuable away, Loki turned to the wall, drawing his legs up to his chest, breathing heavily. He pressed his forehead into his knees. Darkness greeted him like an old friend.

Several long minutes slipped past without so much as a sound. Loki didn't move, the emotions coursing through his body kept him rooted to the spot.

Stark's footsteps make little sound as he exited the dressing room.