A/N: I just survived the most exhausting vacation in my life. It's hard to save stray kittens while your friedns behave like children...

Anyway, thank you for reviews and most of all, thank you for putting up with my terrible (non-existing) update schedule. Please bear with me a bit longer.

Summary: It's all about power. The power of patience, of ice, of the trust that survives. The power of words.

Chapter X—Vain, Blood-thirsty Creatures

Monster (noun): An inhumanly cruel or wicked person.

"Did you find him?"

Thor shook his head. "Perhaps."

"Perhaps?" Sif brought her hands to her hips.

"Aye. I thought I heard some noise coming from his room, but he didn't answer when I called."

"He's Loki."

Thor frowned. She'd said it as if his name explained everything—and perhaps it did. When had that happened?

Was he truly as blind as his brother claimed?

"Father said he'd agreed to come."

"He'd agreed to things before," Volstagg remarked.

Thor frowned. He was just considering whether he should say something or not when his gaze landed on Fandrall approaching from the end of the corridor. Jane and Stark were half a step behind him.

"No sign of our missing Prince?" Fandrall said.

"I think he is in his rooms."

"Is he not supposed to be there?" Stark asked, coming to stand next to Fandrall. A frown found its way onto his face.

"We are to have a war meeting with the council," Thor said. Had Stark now known that? Would Loki not have told him?

Stark's frown deepened. That couldn't be a good sign; was something amiss between him and Loki?

"And you think he's in his room?"

Thor nodded.

"Good. I need to talk to him."

So there was something wrong. Perhaps it would be for the best if Loki found a woman instead of Stark, the way a prince was supposed to, and it wouldn't be quite so shameful, but Stark seemed to make Loki happy. Most of the time, at least.

"I don't know what is happening between you two, but if you hurt him, I swear I'll—"

"End up with your balls forced down your throat, among other things, because that's what Loki will do to you if you hurt me. Somebody show me the way?"

Had nobody ever taught respectful behaviour to this man?

"Mind your—" He noticed Jane's stare and clicked his mouth shut. "Follow me."

Stark hmphed, causing Thor's scowl to deepen. Who did the mortal think he was?

But then Jane touched his arm, and he began leading the way. How? How could this be what was best for his little brother? Was a mortal with a big mouth and loose moral truly worth more to him than Asgard's honour and glory? More than the comrades Loki had fought with for a millennium?

He glanced to the right, catching glimpse of Stark's determined frown.

How?

~*oO*o*Oo*~

His fists fell down onto the wood.

"Loki?"

Whatever the reason the god was hiding—there was something wrong. And the idea of not trying to help Loki when he needed support wasn't one that would cross Tony's mind. Not now.

"Is everything okay?"

No answer.

Thor pushed past him to the door and banged on it.

"Brother!"

More silence. Thor shook his blond head. "Mayhap he isn't here."

It was possible, true, but as far as Tony knew, Loki could keep the door to his chambers closed if he so desired. What sense would it make to let people into the rooms but keep them out of the bedroom if he wasn't in there? This wasn't an act of logic; it had to be guided by emotions, and strong emotions at that.

Not a good sign.

"Lo?" He managed to push Thor away and press a hand against the door. "I know you're here, okay? Can you let me in, please?"

There was another moment of silence, and then a strained replay.

"Go away."

"Brother—"

Tony threw a glare the Thunderer's way. "Hush."

"Don't tell me to—"

"Shut up, Thor," Loki snapped. Something wasn't quite right with his voice. "Get lost, all three of you."

Something cold coiled in Tony's stomach. What was he supposed to say? Loki used to come looking for his presence, not shun him. And then, suddenly, it had all turned upside down, and Tony hadn't even done anything to cause it.

If he'd done nothing wrong, how could he fix it?

Jane squeezed his shoulder. "Good luck," she whispered, and Tony offered her a small, sad smile. It was good to have her here, to have somebody who could drag Thor away. To have somebody who was human, too.

He waited until the two of them disappeared from his sight, then slid down and settled with his back to the wall.

"Talk to me, babe."

"What part of 'get lost' don't you understand?"

"The unspoken part. What's wrong?"

Was he only imagining it, or was cold emanating from the door?

"I don't want to talk."

"Can you let me in?"

"You don't understand!"

Tony's insides clenched at that tone because he knew it. He'd heard it before, the desperation, the hopelessness.

"I don't want to share this. It wasn't supposed to be yours! It's supposed to be mine and mine alone, but you've already—why isn't there anything… Why do you…"

The words faded to nothing—or drowned in tears. Tony was seriously beginning to hate that door separating them.

"You don't have to talk. Just let me in. Please, snowflake. I only want to help."

He didn't get an answer this time. Sighing, he let his head fall backwards against the wall. Loki would have to get out of the room eventually. Sadly, Tony would probably have to move sooner. He couldn't physically outlast Loki (it wasn't his fault he couldn't go without food or the bathroom the whole day), but he could hope his stubbornness would be enough.

By the time anything happened, Tony had shifted about 77.8 times, and even that couldn't stop his butt and back from aching. The floor was cold, the walls equally so, and the door—

Was that water trickling out from under the door?

He opened his mouth, but Loki chose that exact moment to speak.

"Why weren't you repulsed?"

"Hm?" Tony raised his head automatically even though he could still only see the door. "By what?"

"Me. My skin."

"The Jotun skin, you mean?"

A grumpy hum confirmed it.

"Because you don't look half bad when you're blue. Because I have no prejudice against frost giants. You're still you, no matter what you look like."

Silence settled over them again. Which was better than outright complaints, right? (Kind of. Maybe.)

"Come in," Loki suddenly said.

Tony's eyebrows arched, but he climbed to his feet and pushed the door in. Well, tried to; it felt as if something was hindering the movement of the wood, creating too much resistance for Tony's strength to be enough. He tried again, and this time the door gave in—although it might have had something to do with the fact that Loki must have pulled it. He was standing in the perfect position for that, hand still on the handle.

"Hey," Tony managed, his eyes drinking in the irregular splotches of pale on Loki's blue skin. One of the god's eyes was green, the other crimson; both were somewhat puffy from crying. His hair was a mess. Patches of ice lay all over the floor, some already melting, and there was a thin layer of enveloping the ornate coffee table (which was probably called something else entirely).

Loki pulled him into the room by the sleeve and shut the door. The moment they were secured inside, he slumped against the wall, sliding to the floor.

"What's going on?"

Loki shrugged.

"Lo? What were you doing?"

Green eyes narrowed. "It doesn't matter anymore. It didn't work."

"Well." Tony stepped past one of the icy spots and nudged an overturned marble bowl with his toes. "If you were trying to create ice, I'd say it worked."

Loki snorted. "I thought perhaps this would be something that would feel untouched by you. I was wrong. Of course I was wrong. You've seen me this way before. You accepted me this way…" His gaze sank to his hands. "Why do you think you didn't get hurt when you touched me on Svartalfheim?"

"What do you think?"

Loki shrugged. "I tried to find some information on Jotnar. There isn't much available. I already knew they can create and manipulate ice at will. They don't seem to need much sunlight, and it makes sense that they aren't overly fond of high temperatures. I can tell you their average size, but this bit of information is perfectly useless. There was nothing about their habits, their mating, what they eat, nothing about… this." He pointed at the markings on his face. "I don't even know how much Odin's spell has changed me. There might be parts of me that differ from the frost giants, parts that aren't… I'm neither a Jotun nor an Áss."

"Do you have to be?" Tony moved closer. "I know it doesn't do wonders for your sense of belonging, but as far as I'm concerned, you're Loki. And that's enough. One of a kind, babe."

The corner of Loki's mouth twitched weakly.

"So you were trying out your powers?"

A nod. "I never managed to change at will before."

"Progress. That's good. And you made ice. That's pretty impressive."

"I merely froze the water." A pause. "I'm tired, Tony. I know I'm not supposed to be talking to you right now. I said I wouldn't. I know I don't have to, that I can do this on my own, but…" Loki closed his eyes. "Is it so wrong to choose weakness sometimes?"

Swallowing, Tony squatted down in front of the god.

"You want to hear what I think? Why you didn't hurt me?" He shifted a bit, finding balance. "It's because you didn't want to. I think it's the intention that counts."

Loki's eyes fluttered open. "I wasn't aiming to hurt you the first time you touched this form."

"But you were scared of me then," Tony said quietly. "Everybody aims to hurt in self-defence…" Slowly, he raised his hand. Loki's eyes widened just a bit, and then Tony's knuckles brushed against midnight blue skin. Cold sipped into his fingers, sharp and uncomfortable, but not burning. Not hurting.

Loki sucked in a quick breath.

"It doesn't…" he whispered, coughed, and tried again. "It doesn't burn?"

"No." Unlike that first time, blue didn't start retreating immediately. It only retreated slowly, bit by bit. Perhaps it had to do with Loki's emotional state, perhaps with the milder temperatures. Either way, it was disappearing. Tony brought his other hand to Loki's face as well, cupped his cheeks, and found Loki's lips with his own.

Their breaths mixed when they parted. Loki's eyes fluttered open, viridian once more.

"See?" Tony held up his palms. "No frostbite."

Loki nodded. He slumped forward, head falling onto Tony's shoulder. The inventor wrapped his arms around him.

"Being tired doesn't make you weak," he said. "And maybe I'm your weakness, but that doesn't make you weak, either."

"You're going to die." The god's voice was flat. "And if I don't learn to live on my own, I'll fall apart."

"And how is pushing me away while I'm still alive any different? We'd both suffer, and I'm not willing to risk losing you again. Apparently, it's a mere coincidence you're alive. I'm not inclined to watch you kill yourself again, understand? Cutting me out of your life won't fix anything. You said I was the centre of your life right now, right? If you rip that away, everything will fall apart. So why don't you put yourself into the centre right next to me? Do the things you like, do them on your own if you want to, just…

"You tried to explore your Jotun powers today, yeah? That seems like a good start. I know you don't like your heritage, but if you manage to accept that, you can accept yourself better, and then you might not need me to hold everything up anymore."

When had he swallowed all that new age wisdom? It seemed logical, though. If Loki were happy with himself, if his happiness were not dependant on Tony, he could find that joy inside him again even if Tony wasn't there anymore.

Loki just nodded into his shoulder and yawned. At least, it sounded like a yawn. Probably was, too; freezing half of the floor didn't seem like the easiest thing to do with no practice, even if he'd had water to begin with.

"Why don't you get some rest and we can talk more later, hm?"

Loki hummed something unintelligible but didn't object when Tony walked him to the bed or curled up next to him.

~*oO*o*Oo*~

The banging on the door came all too soon. Loki groaned in annoyance; the sound got muffled by Tony's tunic. Whoever it was, they should go away and stop bothering them. Even though he felt guilty about it, he was enjoying having Tony wrapped all around him, the familiar scent filling his nostrils, and he was still exhausted from his earlier attempts at creating ice.

"Loki!"

Marvellous. What had Sif lost here?

"Go away," he muttered under his breath.

"We've caught Malekith's spy. The Allfather demands your presence."

He sat up abruptly. "You caught a spy? Where?"

"He was trying to get into the vault."

Hm.

"And where is he now?"

"In the dungeons."

They would be interrogating him, no doubts…

"Thank you," he said dismissively, hoping Sif would leave him be. He should have known luck was not on his side.

"You skipped the meeting."

"What is it to you?" he barked. Tony placed a hand on his bicep. It was somewhat soothing, but not nearly enough. The world spun around when he stood up. He'd meant to offer Tony a hand but ended up catching the man's shoulder for support instead.

"I doubt the Allfather was pleased," Sif said just as Tony asked, "Are you okay?"

"Leave," he said shortly—she could not disobey a direct command—and shrugged in response to Tony's question.

The man sighed. "Why am I even asking…?"

They drank some water before they left. Loki'd made sure his hair was in place and his skin entirely the Aesir pink it was supposed to be. If he held his chin high enough, perhaps he could convince himself he really felt as confident as he looked.

He'd been to the dungeons before, so he paid little mind to his surroundings (only enough to be ready in the face of danger), but Tony kept turning his head, eyebrows raised high.

"I thought it'd be darker here. More… dungeon like. You know, cold, and dripping, and bony fingers clutching the bars."

"Even a golden cage is still a cage."

"Point made."

The prisoner, who, even to Loki's eyes, looked the same as all the other Dark Elves, was tied to a chair in one of the bright-lit cells. Fortunately, only three people were gathered around him (her?). Unfortunately, these people were Odin, Thor, and Tyr, and if Loki believed it would do him any good, he's pray to the Norns, or Yggdrasil, or any other higher power there was, to give him energy and patience to survive the encounter.

"Brother."

Loki clenched his fists. Did Thor have to keep calling him there? Was the oaf so convinced Loki always rebuked him out of spite that he never considered the reason may lie in the pain deep behind Loki's breastbone?

"Has he talked?" he asked, ignoring Thor.

All three men shook their heads.

"He would, had he been given to me," Tyr grumbled.

"There is no time," Odin replied. Judging by the tone, it wasn't the first time he'd said the same thing. It was understandable as well; Malekith could attack any time now, and the Aesir were all but defenceless against the Dark Elves. The Allfather couldn't afford to waste any time—and Loki wasn't present to simply nod and agree.

He resisted the impulse to cross his arms over his chest and took a couple deep breaths instead.

"What do you want me to do?"

Odin stepped closer and lowered his voice. "Force your way into his mind. Can you do that?"

Could he do it? Perhaps, but he would certainly leave a mess, possibly render the Elf insane and useless. If he succeeded, would it be an efficient way to save time and deliver results? No doubt.

He nodded.

"Excellent."

Loki swallowed. He could feel his heart hammering in his chest and Tony's presence a few steps away, and he could almost feel the hook pulling at his mind and hands clawing at his flesh and methodically breaking away his ribs…

No. He was stronger than that. Yet as he made to step forward, Odin's hand fell onto his shoulder.

"I know I ask much of you, son. Will you do it?"

As if he had a real choice. If he said no, Asgard would suffer, and while Loki didn't particularly care about the Aesir, Tony was here, too, and would stay on Asgard as long as Loki would; sending him home would be the best, but Loki was too selfish for that. He could pretend to be well without Tony's presence when the man was but a few corridors away. If he put entire dimensions between them…

Refusing the Allfather now would be a coward's move. Loki could stand to be a coward in Asgard's eyes—but not in his own. He was already so much weaker than he wanted to be, entirely too dependent on somebody else. He couldn't say no now.

"I will."

"You'll what?" Tony spoke. When Loki turned his way, he saw a deep frown on his beloved's face.

"Nothing dangerous." Tony would try to stop him if he knew. Perhaps Loki should stop himself… He clenched his fists. Yes, Tony would stop him, but Loki had to do it. (He didn't want to.) "Don't worry." (The knot in his throat refused to dissolve.)

"Loki, what are you planning?"

He sent Tony a sour smile. "What do you think I'm planning?"

Tony shook his head. "Don't. Don't go there."

Ignoring the words (surely Tony was cursing in his mind now), he strode into the cell.

"I need information," he told the Dark Elf. "And I'm going to take it." One way or another. Taking one last deep breath (to calm his heart, calm his racing heart), he tore away the Elf's mask, and pressed a hand to his forehead.

"Try not to scream too loud," he said and closed his eyes.

~oO*o*Oo*~

Interfering with other people's minds had never been Loki's forte. He'd been able to install a stray thought, or steal a titbit of information that was swirling right on the surface, but anything else was too dangerous. He hadn't known how to proceed, nor had he been willing to risk destroying somebody's mind in the process.

Then his mind had been torn to pieces and patched back together and unravelled again. He still hadn't tried it on anyone (wouldn't—shouldn't ever), but he'd done his best to observe the process despite being on the receiving end.

It was still his worst nightmare. Dreaming of rape might send him out of Tony's bed in the morning, but having his mind ripped apart made him wake up screaming, covered in cold sweat, and unable to close his eyes for days.

Now, he was about to force his way into somebody else's mind. He truly was a monster.

Tony would condemn him for that.

And perhaps… Perhaps it wasn't just about what Tony thought of him. Perhaps that was just the easier reason to cling to. Loki didn't want to be a monster. His birth made that impossible, and he shouldn't feel bad because monsters didn't do that, so it was convenient that Tony should be his conscience.

The only problem was… He'd tried so hard to see what made Frost Giants monsters. Surely if the Aesir were the civilised folk, there must be something they did differently than the Jotnar. He'd searched he war records for anything—and came away empty handed. There were stories about the Jotnar eating each other and their enemies, but no such thing was mentioned in the scrolls. They fought and killed their enemies, they protected their homes, they even burnt their dead—how were they so different from the Aesir?

Tony had said monsters never questioned their actions. Perhaps, for a short while, Loki had thought he didn't have to, either, because the things he'd done were what monsters did… But the questions had come later. Not necessary the right kind of questions, but there had been questions.

If that set him aside from what Tony said were monsters, if the Jotnar didn't differ from the Aesir in habits so much as in appearance and fighting abilities, if maybe, just maybe, there was a slight chance Loki could choose whether or not he was really a monster (like Thanos. Thanos had been a monster)—

Then he did not want to be one.

If he wasn't a monster, could his behaviour be his choice entirely (his fault only)? Not the result of some predisposition, not something that made no difference at all because he'd never had a chance—

Nevertheless, he still needed to get the information. Whatever he did, it would be immoral. He could dig through the Elf's mind. Or he could squeeze his own thoughts into the prisoner's mind. Horrible thoughts, but at least he wouldn't be boring into somebody's mind, and the experience would bring up bad memories in either case…

He squared his shoulders and thought of Thanos.

~*oO*o*Oo*~

Tony stood at the back of the room, hands clasped behind his back. A long table with chairs on either side connected him with the other side of the room where Odin, Thor, and Loki were seated. He recognised Tyr, Fandrall, and Sif, as well, but his attention was on Loki, who was pale as death and sporting dark circles under his eyes. Tony was pretty sure he'd seen him shivering before.

He hadn't got the chance to ask about what had happened in the dungeons yet; Loki's expression had turned to stone, and the Dark Elf suddenly started screaming loud enough that Tony'd wanted to cover his ears. It turned to sobbing and begging and information being given freely. Through it all, Loki didn't say a single word, and he was sitting silently now, too, staring at the table in front of him with deep wrinkles between his eyebrows.

Tony was trying to follow the conversation—if it could be defined as conversation. People were raising their voices and swinging their arms, and Tony was sure mugs would be flying around if they were close enough for the Aesir to grab. This was supposed to be a council? Then again, he'd seen politicians scrolling though 9gag in the middle of an assembly…

What he had managed to gather, though, was that the Elves were planning an attack just before dawn, that their ships could turn invisible, and Asgard was all but defenceless. It was still unclear where Loki came into the mix or why he was so important, but now wasn't the time to ask. The shouting had grown louder, causing the vein on Tony's forehead to throb, and he wasn't even involved in the argument or saving his own world (he'd done enough of that in the past, thank you very much). He heard Loki's name spoken a couple times, and if he caught it right, somebody mentioned the Tesseract. Nevertheless, Tony lacked information and that just wouldn't do. He was just about to step forward and sew the hole in his knowledge when Loki's voice snapped through the room.

"Enough!" His fist slammed against the table and he stood up. "You desire to know if we can win? Then ask yourself that. Ask yourself why you want fight this war."

The chair rattled when he pushed it further away and started pacing like a lion in a cage. One of the council members opened his mouth, words already forming on his tongue, but then the Trickster's green eyes narrowed in a glare.

"Be quiet," he hissed. "You're like a group of boys arguing over a ball. It is all a game to you, all about who gets to score the goal."

Seemed like a pretty accurate description. Tony could practically see a bunch of Thors fighting each other for the honour of striking against the Dark Elves first. Never mind that the Elves could just slaughter the Thors in the meantime... And why was he even imagining a world with more than one Thor? Ugh.

"I know you don't want me here." Loki clasped his hands behind his back and continued pacing up and down, his movements slow and precise. "You probably think you don't need me. Not you, the great warriors of Asgard. Why would you need an ergi to help you? Oh, please," he snapped when murmur swept through the group. "I hear the things you whisper behind my back. But let me tell you something. You are not almighty, you are not invincible, you are not strong. You are weak! Pathetic! Vulnerable, and breakable, and this close"—he held his forefinger and thumb about an inch apart—"to being broken! Flies waiting to be squashed, ants to be stepped on and forever forgotten. You are nothing to the universe!

"You say war is unavoidable. Wrong. This battle is unavoidable, fighting when they attack is unavoidable, but you don't want to stop there. Oh, no! You would travel to their world and destroy every last one of them and tear the planet apart even after it had already died. You don't fight to protect your home, to keep your families, you loved ones safe, or because fighting till your last dying breath is the only way you might ever see the sun rise again or dream of peace again. None of you ever fight because of that. Instead, you desire war for the sake of war. You crave battle and dream of songs composed about your victories so that the number of lives your swords tore out would forever remain carved in the collective consciousness and you would be crowned heroes. You want to remind the Dark Elves of 'their place' and dub them monsters once more! You are vain, blood-thirsty creatures, unaware how big of a privilege it is to lead a life where honour is still something more than an empty concept of ages long gone!"

Something dangerous flashed through Loki's eyes. It made Tony want to run away screaming and pull Loki close at the same time. Whatever the Trickster had done in the dungeons, it had stirred something dark inside him.

"There is nothing glorious about slaughter, about pain and rotting flesh, no odes to be sung about the gallons of blood you spit out in agony, nothing reasonable when the value of acts of kindness so meagre they would have been overlooked any other day surpasses the capacity for gratefulness, and no fairness in how cruelly such acts are punished!

"You want to destroy the Dark Elves forever? You cannot! You cannot, for they will fight, not to conquer, as they do now, but to survive! Asgard will be the one to burn! It can, and it will, unless you fight for it! Not for honour and glory, but in any way you can, so that Valaskjáf and Hlidskjaf may stand another day, another hour if it comes to that! If you want to win, you will fight for whatever you have left, for everything and everyone you hold dear, for the ones you have yet to love in the days to come, and you will keep fighting when you feel you have nothing left to stand for! If your honour gets trampled and you are no longer capable of anything save biting like a dog—then, by the Nine, you shall bite!"

Loki's chest was heaving, eyes dark and wild, and Tony remembered, after a long time, why the god was to be feared.

"I am to secure us victory in this combat, yet nobody would consider placing me in front of an army to lead it. Well, I do not desire an army. I am not asking you to fight for me, nor am I asking you to fight with me. I am not asking anything at all. I'm telling you: if you can't muster the humility to listen, then you better stay out of my way. There are things on this piece of rock I desire to protect, and I will not see them go down in flames. But if you can pull your heads out of your asses"—and Tony was unreasonably proud to hear Loki use phrases so typical for Earth and even more for the speech he'd just delivered—"and perhaps even find a sliver of heart somewhere inside of you, then you can win this fight and Asgard shall stand in her glory."

For a moment, there was silence.

And then the room burst with voices.

A/N: Thanks for putting up with me. You get a jar of Nutella if you review? Maybe?

Stay awesome.

~shades