A/N: So, I'm a little off my two-week goal, but only by a day. Sorry. I'm going to try to keep up this bi-weekly updating schedule; it seems to be working out pretty well.
On another note, I seem to have lost the ability to write decent smut. No idea what happened to it; hopefully I'll find it soon. Until then, you have my apologies.
I hope you enjoy the new chapter!
Tony huffed, squinting at his arc reactor. There was something off about it. Something not quite right. He rubbed at his chest around where all the scarring was, feeling uncomfortable. "Hey, J, nothing came back on the other tests you ran?"
"No, Sir. You appear to be in perfect health."
"What didn't we do? Is there something else we can do?" Maybe he was just imagining it.
"Perhaps a blood test, sir?"
But it couldn't hurt to be certain. "Yeah, let's do a blood test." Tony pricked his finger and gave Jarvis a sample.
He was about to sit down and try to focus on his project, although he had a feeling he was more likely to do nothing and fret, when Jarvis suddenly announced. "Sir, Master Loki is upstairs."
Just like that, all his worries vanished, and he was on his feet. "I'll ask you about the results later; I've got a date." He took the elevator upstairs and walked out with a broad grin on his face, whistling an AC/DC tune. "You could have at least called," he teased, rounding the corner- only to stop dead.
Loki was standing there alright, outfitted in all his Asgardian leather and metal, but he wasn't sitting at the bar getting himself a drink or casually reclined on the couch. He was just standing there, in the middle of the kitchen, staring at his trembling hands.
HIs hands which were covered in blood.
Tony lurched forward, everything but Loki's wellbeing going out the window. "Loki! Are you okay? What happened?"
Loki took a stumbling step back from him, almost falling, and Tony stopped in his tracks, his arms still extended to help steady or maybe catch the god if he were to collapse.
He pulled them back timidly, trying to look less threatening. "Loki? Are you hurt? Can you look at me?"
Ever so slowly, Loki lifted his head, and Tony had to fight not to take a step back himself. There was a manic look in his eyes, a murderous look that Tony had never before seen on his friend. Those green eyes were filled with insanity and rage and pain. So much pain.
On the one hand, it was easy to tell that Tony really shouldn't get any closer to him as he was. On the other, he wanted nothing more than to run over to the god and pull him into his arms and just. . . make him stop hurting. If he could have had anything in the world at that moment, if he had found some kind of fucking genie and gotten to ask for anything, it would have been that. Take away his pain. "Loki?"
Like it generally seemed to, talking to him helped. Loki blinked, rather lethargically, a few times and the manic look faded. "Anthony," he breathed. It wasn't a question, just sheer, utter relief.
Tony figured that meant it was safe, and he closed the distance between them in a few steps. "Are you hurt?"
Loki didn't seem to understand the question at first, brow furrowing in confusion, and then he suddenly seemed to remember the blood. "Oh. No. It's. . . it's not mine."
Okay. He wasn't sure that answer should make him as utterly giddy and relieved as it did, but Tony wasn't about to worry about his moral compass at the moment. "You want to sit? You look kind of. . . dizzy." Out of it. Like you're about to faint. And seconds ago you kind of looked like you were going to rip my heart out. Which, judging by the copious amounts of blood, you might have already done to somebody else. "You want to tell me who's blood it is?" he asked as he got Loki seated, making sure it was phrased lightly as a question, not a demand.
At the moment, Tony was a little worried that he'd gone off on his father. Despite the absolute fucking asshole Odin All-Daddy was, Tony didn't think Loki could handle killing him. He admitted that he wasn't perfect, but Tony could tell that even though Loki knew logically that some of the things he did were wrong, he still wanted to please him. He still wanted Odin's love. It was heartbreaking, although Tony tried not to think about it too often, since it led to other thoughts about a drunk inventor who made spectacular weapons that were used to kill innocent people in order to live up to the legacy of a dead man who had never loved him.
The inquiry seemed to jolt Loki back to reality though, because a moment later he magicked away the whole mess. He looked at Tony for a long moment, unreadable thoughts moving behind those intense green eyes. Then he leaned forward and kissed him.
Tony was thrown off guard by the action at first, though he recovered quickly and returned the kiss. There was something different about this though. Sometimes Loki liked it fast and hard, other times he would go so excruciatingly slow that Tony would want to scream, taking his time to pull the engineer apart at the seams. This was neither. This was. . . urgency, and, beyond that, desperation. That opinion was further confirmed as Loki magicked away their clothes without even pausing in the kiss, using Tony's squawk of surprise to slip his tongue into the shorter man's mouth.
Loki pushed Tony back on the couch without breaking the kiss, laying himself out on top of him. One of his hands wormed its way between their bodies, and Tony gasped as he wrapped his long fingers around his cock, stroking him quickly to full hardness. He pulled back to let Tony breathe only to suck a mark into his neck. Tony combed his hands through Loki's hair, worry for the god battling for attention in his arousal fogged mind.
A slender finger pushed inside of him, making Tony moan and swear as Loki returned to his mouth. He prepared him quickly but thoroughly, so much raw emotion in his actions that Tony felt like he was drowning in unspoken words. When he sheathed himself fully several minutes later, utterly silent as he panted against Tony's neck, Tony wrapped his arms around the god and layered open mouthed kisses to his neck and shoulder where he could reach.
The desperation and urgency came back as Loki fucked into him, along with hint of mania deep in his green eyes, but as Loki moved into him, Tony's arousal had reached such heights that Tony could barely register it. Even though he tried to hold on to fleeting thoughts, worries and concerns, soon everything narrowed down to the pulsing waves of pleasure coming from the point where he and Loki joined together.
Tony came first, his orgasm crashing over him like a wave as he cried out to the heavens, but Loki didn't even pause, moving into him even harder it seemed until, finally, his hips stuttered and he came with a muffled groan, falling down on top of Tony. The pair of them simply laid there, naked on the couch, until Loki suddenly shifted.
"Anthony. . . do you think I am a good person?" he whispered softly into the hollow of Tony's neck, the question catching him just as off guard as the sudden sex had.
"Yes. But I also think that good is pretty relative," Tony responded after a moment.
"I've killed people, you know," he commented, sounding almost off hand.
"I. . . figured, yeah." It wasn't something Tony thought about all that often, but it would have surprised him more to learn that Loki hadn't. "So have I."
"I'm not referring to self-defense, Anthony. I've murdered people. Assassinated them, even."
There was a brief pause, and Tony thought back to those in the Ten Rings, the men who had run only to find a bullet in their backs. He thought about the hundreds, thousands of innocents whose lives his weapons stole. "So have I," he repeated.
Loki didn't argue, but he took a breath before his next words. "I've tortured people too."
That one made Tony pause, the memory of water rushing into his lungs making his arms tighten around the god lying on his chest. "For fun?" he finally asked.
Loki seemed to consider for a moment. "No," there was a brief hesitation before his response was followed by, "but there are some I could take pleasure in torturing."
And Tony understood that too. "Yeah," he agreed with a mirthless laugh. He thought for another moment. "Maybe we're not good people, Lokes, but we're not bad either. Maybe we're just. . . human." He paused and then added, "No offense."
Loki laughed softly, his breath raising goose bumps on Tony's naked flesh. "Perhaps." Then he leaned up and kissed Tony's forehead, causing Tony to blink rather stupidly, feeling his brain come to a screeching halt. "You're a good man, Anthony," Loki whispered. "A better one than I deserve."
Tony frowned, but before he could protest, Loki pressed their lips gently together. As he closed his eyes with a muffled moan, the weight of the god suddenly vanished, and Tony snapped his eyes open with a frown.
Loki was gone.
(0)-(0)-(0)-(0)-(0)
"I don't understand why we haven't just killed him."
"Because that is not what was requested of us."
"Look at him! If anyone has ever deserved to die, it's him, and I've killed people for a lot less."
"Oh, believe me, I am very much aware. I've had more than a few of your marks come through here reeking of your foul stench."
"My stench? Sis, you should let a healer check you out if you can smell me but not this place. It reeks of rotting flesh down here."
"This place, as you so kindly put it, is my home, and you ought to take care how you speak of it."
"Your home." Snort. "More like your exile. We all know that you'd rather be just about anywhere but here."
"At least I have a place I can call home."
"I'd rather live in a black hole than this festering dump."
"That could be arranged."
A roll of shimmering green and gold went through the middle of the dungeon chambers, and Loki materialised in the room.
Chained to a stone wall opposite the door behind Loki was Frey, naked and gagged, standing on cut bare feet with his arms held by black cuffs made of enchanted steel. He glared daggers at Loki as he arrived.
Loki ignored him, choosing instead to focus on the two jailors who looked like they were about ready to rip out one another's throats.
On his right stood a small, petite, beautiful woman who bore more the shape of a girl. Her skin was smooth, and the left side was incredibly pale, almost unnaturally so; her hair was black, utterly devoid of all color save for a small portion on her left side that was white as snow. Her left eye was a sharp, bright green, like a single emerald star. The right side of her face, however, and right hand as well, was a dark, deep, Jotun blue, the color of the endless sea. Her black hair was swept in front of her face and mostly covered it and her single, pure red eye, the color of Muspelheim coal. She wore a brown fur tunic and black leather pants with black boots that came up nearly to her knees. Despite being over a head shorter than everyone else in the room and having the features of a fey-like child, both her eyes glowed with wisdom and knowledge of the ages.
The man on the left was utterly different. He was tall, the same height as Loki, but extremely thin and lanky. His hair was spiked up and was a light green color, and he wore a ripped white tank-top of Midgardian wear and equally torn, faded jeans with no shoes. His skin looked normal, but when viewed under a certain light it almost seemed to take on a slightly green, scaly nature. His amber eyes were the unblinking eyes of a snake.
Both turned sharply to look at Loki as he arrived in the dungeons.
The woman immediately rushed into Loki's arms, and he embraced her, bending down press a kiss atop her head. "Hel," he greeted her softly before giving a nod to the man who had snorted and gone back to leaning against the cavern wall. "Jormi."
The Midgard Serpent, as he had long been called, gave a smirk at his father's acknowledgment and a slight nod. "Could you tell her that it smells down here? She doesn't seem to believe me."
Loki smirked as Hel pulled back to glare at her brother with her mismatched eyes. "Sometimes I wonder how you managed to survive your childhood together," he mused jestingly.
As one, the twins responded with, "Fenrir."
Loki smiled and turned to face his youngest.
Fenrir was standing behind them, clothed entirely in black, with a massive cloak that helped him conceal himself in the shadows. His fairly short, scruffy hair was as black as his sister's, but his eyes were a stormy gray color and his skin tone was darker than the rest of theirs. He was taller than the other occupants of the room, including Loki, but not lanky like Jormungand. A black hilted blade was strapped at his waist, and his gloved hand rested on it casually. "Father," he greeted Loki respectfully.
"Fenrir. I trust everything went well?"
"Aside from these two trying to bait one another into biting their respective heads off."
Jormi looked smug while Hel smiled a bit sheepishly, walking over and looping her arm through Fenrir's, their vast size difference making Loki smile fondly.
"Sorry, Fen. He always brings out the worst in me. Come on; let me show you around."
Fenrir paused before allowing her to turn him around towards the door, arching an eyebrow at Loki.
He waved them off. "We'll be fine. Go ahead."
The pair of them left.
Loki cast a brief questioning look at Jormi, who shrugged and removed himself to a far corner, but remained in the room.
He wasn't sure whether to be amused or touched by the fact that they didn't seem to be willing to leave him alone with Frey.
With a snap of his fingers, the gag disappeared, and Frey coughed. "I don't know what you think you've accomplished by this. When your father hears of it-"
"Father isn't going to hear of this," Loki cut him off smoothly. "You're not going to tell him a thing."
Frey scoffed. "You think you can threaten me? You and your band of miscreants- you realise that they are one bad step away from Odin simply ending all their lives? You're lucky he let them live past childhood in the first place."
Loki's eyes flashed, but Frey kept talking.
"He'll kill them all. Or, at least the snake here. The girl he'll probably hand over to one of the minor gods as a concubine of some kind. If she's lucky. With her features, maybe he'll just give her to the troops at large. They can always use a hole to fuck."
Loki walked forward and picked Frey up with a hand around his throat, slamming him back into the wall. "Do not speak of my daughter that way," he hissed before releasing him and taking a few steps back to prevent him from simply killing the slimey bastard.
Frey coughed and laughed. "Oh, we haven't even gotten to the best part yet. Odin loves wolves. What do you think he'll do with your little pup? Now that he's all grown, he might not be quite to his tastes anymore, but I'd imagine that he'll-" Frey suddenly cut off, hacking violently.
Loki turned and watched him curiously as he continued to cough and hack, making retching sounds and eventually throwing up blood.
Jormi suddenly stalked out of the shadows and grabbed Frey's chin, forcing his head up to look into unblinking eyes that were glowing acid green. "Leave. Fenrir. Alone." Jormi stood there for a moment longer, and then promptly released him, his eyes fading back to normal. He walked past Loki towards the door. "Holler if you need something," he called over his shoulder as he left.
Loki watched his son go with a mostly blank expression before turning back to Frey.
He spat out a mouthful of blood. "Is that the best you can do?"
Loki didn't respond right away, and when he did speak, it wasn't to answer the question."You should know something," he said softly as he conjured up a knife from the netherspace. "The only reason you are not dead is because of a conversation I had with. . . a friend earlier. He's too good for me, you see, and I'd rather not dirty my hands further with your blood." He traced a line down Frey's arm, pushing hard enough to draw blood. "But I can't very well have you telling my father of this either, so I came to a compromise with myself." Loki pulled the knife back. "Right now, I cannot alter your mind or memories because of your seid, but if you become injured enough, tired enough, malnourished enough, your seid will wear itself down keeping you alive. Once that point is reached, I will change your memories, and it will be like these days, or perhaps weeks, never happened." He smiled sharply. "In the meantime, however, I don't quite see why I can't have a bit of fun."
"And how will you explain my absence?" Frey asked, but Loki could see sweat break out on his brow.
Loki assumed an innocent expression. "Why would I need to explain it? The last I knew, you had assumed the duties of negotiator from me and given Thor and I leave to take a brief vacation from the coronation trail. He and his friends are currently off enjoying that vacation, given by a letter written in your hand. I decided to use it to visit my daughter, behavior that is quite common for me. I know nothing of your disappearance."
"Heimdall," he breathed as a last resort.
Loki snorted. "I and all my children learned how to hide ourselves from him eons ago. Indeed, all of Helheim is masked with a cloaking spell." Loki held the knife directly above Frey's chest. "Any other objections?"
"Don't do this. I'm your uncle."
Loki's eyes were cold, not a hint of mercy could be found in them. "And I was your nephew."
Frey screamed.
A/N: I love Loki's kids.
I already sort of knew I did, and I'd always been planning on including them a bit, but as soon as I started writing them I completely fell in love. I don't want to detract from the main Loki/Tony of this story, so right now I'm considering writing a companion piece focusing on Loki's kids, mainly Fenrir. We'll see. It sounds like so much fun to me right now, but it might go away. What do you guys think?
