Game Changer

Hours later, Loki still hadn't found Tony. Not that he was actively looking for him. He'd just been weaving through the palace, then through Ombos in the hopes of stumbling into him. If he had been searching the passing faces for a familiar goatee, well, that was just habit.

By the time Loki had returned to the palace and to his rooms, it was closer to morning than night, those semi-sweet hours before dawn. Loki's eyes were shadowed, his shoulders slumped but his face tight as he peeled off his boots and jacket. He looked exhausted, disheartened, and more than a little worried.

Seth smiled when Loki finally noticed his presence and stilled, one arm still in the sleeve of his jacket. Seth could see the scowl forming, and he held up his hands in a gesture of peace. "I am only here to apologize," he said, brows tilted in a plea. "I misread the nature of your attachment to the human. I should not have pushed so."

Loki pulled off his jacket the rest of the way and tossed it to the floor. "You should not have pushed so regardless of Tony," he said, jaw clenched.

Seth nodded and dipped his head, abashed. Something inside him thrilled at the sight of Loki angry, at the fire in his startlingly green eyes. He'd always loved Loki like that, fierce and bristling, like some wild creature of legend. It was hard to bite back a smile when Loki was glaring at him so very beautifully.

"Forgive me," Seth said, clasping his hands behind his back. "You are a difficult temptation to resist."

Loki scoffed as his eyes flit up and down, looking him over. "Perhaps you should try harder," he muttered. "So where is Anthony?"

Seth blinked, affected a look of surprised puzzlement. "Why ask me?" he replied, perhaps too innocently.

"I think you know why."

Now Seth affected a look of hurt. "Do you distrust me so very much?"

"In a word, yes."

Now there was real hurt under the affectation. The contempt in Loki's words stung even as the flare of his temper thrilled. Seth dared an approach, slowly, a step for each reply. His hands stayed clasped behind him in a non-threatening but superior manner.

"My dear," Seth said. "I would not harm one you love. Whatever you may think of me, whatever my past foolishness, I have always loved you, in my way. I wish you to be happy."

Something uncertain softened the edge of Loki's glare. Seth resisted the urge to touch the planes of his face, hardened and sharpened now with age.

"That still doesn't answer my question, Seth."

Seth sighed heavily and turned away, putting a strategic amount of distance between them. "Yes, about that," he replied. "You fought for him so strongly, that I thought it best you not know. At least not yet."

Loki straightened at that, and this time he was the one approaching. "What do you mean?"

They were of a height, with Seth a hair or two taller at the most, so that, when he turned, he was staring into those angry green eyes that fascinated him so. He'd thought once of plucking them out when Loki had riled his temper to its greatest heights centuries ago, if only to keep them from provoking him so.

"I mean that, perhaps, you should ask Bast."

Green eyes narrowed, sharpened, studied. "Just spit it out, my lord."

"I mean," Seth said sweetly, "that he is in her bed even now."

Loki showed no reaction, merely stared and stared.

Seth knew he had to be careful here. He cleared his throat and continued, "Did you two quarrel? Because he seemed rather upset when he ran into her arms earlier. I thought he'd be back by now, but clearly he means to spend the night."

Green eyes flamed, and a muscle twitched in Loki's jaw. "I don't believe you."

Seth leaned forward so that their faces were inches apart. "Then by all means, go see for yourself."

Loki's stare trailed to his lips then back up to his eyes, and there was something dark there, hidden under the anger. Before he could think about how badly he longed to touch him, Loki surged forward and pressed lips to lips himself.

Seth quickly overcame his shock and pulled the younger god against his body, his very blood singing in victory when Loki let him deepen the kiss. Loki's frosty lips tasted like home. Cold hands traced the lines of his torso and squeezed him through his loincloth.

Seth snared his hands on Loki's long hair, pulled back long enough to laugh against Loki's lips. "All these years," he breathed. "I knew you'd come back to me."

Loki smiled back and swallowed his laughter before Seth could see the sadness in his eyes.

For someone who could afford the finest silk sheets, Tony seemed to wake up on dirt and stone an awful lot.

He groaned through a bruised throat which sent pain through his bruised head as he sat up on his bruised knees. The quality of the sand and dirt was familiar under his palms, tasted familiar on his tongue, and then the air felt stale and close and Tony couldn't find air couldn't breathe couldn't breathe he couldn't couldn't –

Half an hour later, Tony sat huddled in the corner of his cell, shaky, sweaty, and drained as he slipped from the clutches of a panic attack.

This was a different dungeon in a different desert, he reminded himself. He'd gotten out of that other place.

Just to make sure, he peeked down his shirt to see his arc reactor, polished and pristine and very much not the one he'd made in Afghanistan. Tony let out a shuddery sob at that and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes.

He was in Deshret, he told himself. Knocked about by Loki's ex, and – Loki.

Oh, shit, Loki. He was alone, and Seth was -

The scrape of metal on stone startled Tony out of a second panic attack. He dropped his hands into his lap and looked up to see Bast in the now-open doorway. She was cowled and the shadows hid much of her face, but Tony recognized her long fingers and the pretty bend of her lips. Those lips were pressed thin in worry or fear.

"Tony," she whispered. "'Tis I."

"Hey, Bast," he choked back warily. "You gonna get me out of here?"

Bast smiled thinly. "Of course."

"Where's Loki?"

Bast hesitated. "With the pharaoh," she answered. She gestured for him to come through the door.

"No, wait." Tony gestured for her to stop. As much as he wanted to get the hell out of here, there was something he needed to do first. "Before we go, is there any way you could get me in contact with Horus?"

Bast pushed back her cowl to look at him more easily, and the shadows lightened over her furrowed brows. "I imagine so, but why do you need to?"

Tony drew a deep breath and squared his jaw. "Because I'm going to need help to kick Seth's ass."

Bast's eyebrows rose. "Oh, Tony. He hasn't told you, has he?"

Tony sighed in frustration, anxious to leave, anxious to make Seth hurt. "Who hasn't told me what?" he grit out.

"Loki's been in contact with Horus since the day you arrived."

Seth's hands and lips left burning trails on Loki's skin. His tunic was in a tangled mess on the floor alongside his boots, his jacket, and Seth's crown and collar. Loki's heart thudded in his chest and in his ears, and Seth laughed through lips at Loki's pulse-point, taking it as a symptom of Loki's need. It wasn't, Loki knew; Seth's touch and taste and weight brought back sickening memories, but each time Loki shivered, he covered it with a breathy sigh, and Seth was none the wiser.

When Seth reached down the front of his trousers, Loki reached down the back of them, slid out a thin dagger and struck. With a startled shout, Seth recoiled in time to get a slash across his chest instead of his throat. Loki cursed and slashed, but Seth caught his wrist as he tried to strike again. Seth squeezed, and Loki cried out, the bones of his wrist giving way with an audible crunch, the dagger slipping from nerveless fingers.

Seth continued to squeeze, and Loki's fragile mortal form all but screamed in agony. Loki only let a choked whimper escape, clenching his teeth hard enough to make them crack.

"You dare," Seth growled, his face and neck flushing red with rage. There was something fierce and wild and terrifying about the way his eyes flashed, the way his jaw seemed to tremble under bared teeth.

With his free hand, he backhanded Loki, hard enough for Loki to taste blood. Then Seth had a hand on Loki's jaw, an inch away from choking him. Loki clawed at Seth's hand, his nails leaving small, bloody welts that did nothing to break Seth's grip.

"Let me go," he snapped. He kicked and bucked as best he could with Seth's weight on top of him.

"You treacherous little slag," Seth snarled, pulling Loki's face closer and shaking him, his fingers leaving bruises on top of bruises. "I thought we – I thought you -"

But then Seth was relaxing his grip and squinting at Loki's throat. He grabbed hold of Loki's face and turned him towards the light to get a better look. Loki let him, staring back defiantly.

"What is this?"

Loki knew he was looking at his bruises, the obvious finger-shaped marks on his throat. "Do you not remember leaving those, my lord?" he grated out.

Seth turned Loki's face back towards him. "Those should have long healed by now."

Loki laughed. "See?" he said with a crooked, dizzy smile. "You still have no idea what he means to me, do you?"

Seth squinted at him for a long moment, then another, obviously not understanding. And then his gold eyes widened, and his grip on Loki's face tightened painfully. "You're mortal," he said, voice menacingly soft, and Loki watched fascinated, amused and wary as his face darkened in rage, a dangerous, mindless rage usually saved for Apophis and mentionings of Osiris.

"That's why your magic – you godsdamned fool," Seth growled, and he stood and threw Loki away from him, hard enough for Loki to smack into the wall, jarring his shoulder and rattling his head. Loki grunted with the impact and pushed himself to his feet, laughing wetly through the drip, drip of blood down the side of his face.

"Guards!" Seth roared at the doors.

"It rankles, doesn't it?" Loki sneered. "Knowing that I chose a human over you." Seth bristled, clenched his fists, and the wind whistled outside as a storm brewed overhead. "Osiris at least chose another god."

Seth was upon him before he could finish that sentence, hand in a tight, bruising grip on Loki's throat, cutting off words, laughter, and breathing. Loki's teeth clicked together as his head jarred against the wall.

"Do not toy with me, Liesmith," Seth growled, gold eyes wild but wet with tears.

Loki clawed at steel-strong fingers, pulled them loose enough to sneer, "Then do not toy with me. Where is he?"

"Dead by now. I gave Bast the order to have him killed."

Loki felt his blood run cold. "Liar," he said in a small voice. He had to be lying. He had to.

Seth answered with a sneering smile. He turned to the door again and shouted, "Guards!" His brow furrowed, and he growled in frustration.

Loki chuckled softly, and Seth narrowed a glare at him. "It's taking them an awfully long time, isn't it?" he asked sweetly.

Seth's eyes widened. "What did you do?"

Loki smiled as the world exploded.

Or rather, the doors seemed to, bursting from their hinges in a blaze of heat and light. Loki screwed his eyes shut against the blast, but dark splotches still dotted his eyes when he opened them. He laughed through the vise of Seth's grip.

There in the ruined door-frame stood Iron Man, his armored hand still smoking and aimed now at Seth. Beside him stood a handsome young god with golden skin and blue eyes – or rather, one blue eye. An angry whorling scar took the place of the second, gruesome and bared to the world.

"Hello, Uncle," said the one-eyed god knuckles white around a golden spear.

Loki could feel Seth bristle.

"Horus."