a/n: So, it may or may not be the end of the world as we know it. But I feel fine, so we'll just keep trudging along! Please enjoy this chapter and leave me comments with your thoughts. (Also, anyone know where I can find toilet paper? Just sayin'.)

As always, thanks to the utterly magnificent Katie_Grey for beta reading.

Chapter 5

Tony entered the room in the quarters Loki had shown him, giving the space a quick once-over. It wasn't that different from many of the luxury hotel suites he'd stayed in for business trips (and one-night stands) over the years. There was an area off the entryway, with one step leading down to it like a small sunken living room, with a desk and chairs and bookshelves. Then there was half-wall which divided the room, and a step up led to the bedroom area with an en suite bathroom through a door there. The bathroom looked pretty normal – an exceptionally large tub, sink, toilet, et cetera. Nothing too out-of-the-ordinary. Tony felt instant relief that Asgardians had similar toilet and hygiene practices and standards. Trying to figure out how to use a commode designed for alien anatomy did not sound like a good time.

Returning back to the bedroom, Tony saw a large armoire in the corner of the room, and a smaller dresser next to it. Just for shits and giggles, Tony opened them, not surprised in the slightest when they were empty. And they would remain that way, since he brought absolutely nothing with him (excellent foresight; really, couldn't Thor have given him five minutes to pack some underwear or a damn toothbrush?).

Crossing the room, Tony dropped onto the edge of the bed with a heavy thud. He let himself fall back so he was looking up at the ceiling, his feet dangling off the bed because he was compact-sized (not "short") and all Asgardians are, apparently, graced with long limbs.

With a sigh, Tony revisited the time that had passed since being magically dropped into Asgard earlier in the day. He closed his eyes and found a smile spreading across his face. It wasn't the first smile of the day, but it was the first one he'd really noticed, and he realized he couldn't even remember how long it had been since he had genuinely felt happy.

It had been too long.

Because Thanos had come. And the Avengers fought him, but they failed. And half the universe paid for their failure. So, yeah, it was safe to say that it had been literal years since Tony had felt. . . well, much of anything, really. Or, anything positive, anyway.

Now, here he was, on an alien planet—in the past, no less—with a monumental task in front of him. Yet, somehow, Tony felt lighter than a feather.

If he'd had a more present state of mind, he might have stopped to think about that and realize just how utterly fucked up that was. Especially considering the fact that he'd spent the day with Loki.

Instead, all Tony could think about was what a beautiful place Asgard is—was. If he was honest with himself, Tony had to admit that the afternoon had actually been one of the most enjoyable times he'd had, not just in recent times but maybe ever. Definitely, like, top ten.

And Loki wasn't terrible company.

Okay, scratch that. Loki was great company. Tony was pretty sure the day wouldn't have been half as nice if he'd spent it with anyone else. There were moments, of course, when he'd had to bite his tongue or mentally psyche himself up to continue the conversation, because images of the Chitauri invasion kept coming unbidden to the front of his mind.

But then Loki would say something or would look at Tony in this way he had that was just completely disarming. Then, Tony found it easy to acknowledge that in this place and time, New York hadn't happened yet. Sure, Loki was still pretty tragic and clearly had a lot of baggage. But it was different, somehow. He wasn't quite as damaged and tainted, or broken. This Loki had some semblance of hope left. And if he could have hope, then so could Tony.

Tony readjusted himself so he was lying completely on the bed, settling back against the multitude of plush pillows. He sighed and closed his eyes. Now, when he thought of Loki, there were two images that came up, and they did not jive with each other. After spending time with this original version of Loki, some elements of invasion-Loki suddenly made a lot more—and less—sense.

When he showed up to take over Earth, Loki looked wrecked. Like he'd been to hell and back.

Looking back on it, Tony mentally kicked himself for not realizing sooner that Loki had been laying it on pretty thick – acting how a villain was probably supposed to act, trying very hard to sell the whole Bow-down-before-me schtick. That certainly fit with the mind control element, too. But now, that Loki seemed like a caricature of this one, making this younger, pre-New York Trickster seem more real.

Tony groaned, scrubbing at his face with his hands. Because Loki really did look so young. And overall, he was just so different. Not only from what Tony thought he knew, but even from what he'd expected, had he ever bothered to give the benefit of the doubt. He was witty, able to match Tony in a way no one else could. They went from bantering to sharing candid feelings in seconds and it felt effortless. Plus, he didn't even call Tony out on the multiple, dumbass slips he'd made that showed he really had no business being there.

Tony threw his arm over his face and let out a frustrated growl. Because he'd have to be an idiot to miss that, on top of everything else, his stomach did a little flip-flop from thinking about the mischief-maker. It took way too much work to force the dopey grin off his face.

"Fuck," Tony mumbled into the crook of his elbow. "Don't lose focus," he added, going full-on into a personal pep talk. He dropped his arm, letting it fall limply to his side, and stared up at the ceiling. "I know you've always been a sucker for a pretty face and a sexy body. But now is not the time to fall back into playboy mode!" Tony verbally chastised himself.

With an incredulous laugh, he added, "It's Loki, for shit's sake!" He shook his head and leaned back, closing his eyes and forcing himself to clear his head.

() * () * () * () *

Tony didn't remember falling asleep.

One minute, he was relaxing on the bed, hands folded behind his head and feeling totally comfortable. Then, his breathing had evened out and he was engulfed in the most peaceful slumber he'd had since Afghanistan.

He was roused from his sleep by someone pounding on the door. As Tony sat up, stretched, and blearily looked around the room, it took him a minute to realize where he was.

Guest quarters in the palace in Asgard.

Oh. Yeah.

The knocking became more persistent, so Tony slid off the bed and hurried over to the door. He remembered he was on an alien planet, so to be on the safe side, he readied the nanites to seal him in armor. He put one hand behind his back, already armed with a repulsor, just in case, and grabbed the door handle with the other hand.

Opening the door just a crack, Tony peered out. "Yes?" he asked the unfamiliar boy and girl standing there.

"Anth-anthony H-howardson?" the boy asked, eyeing Tony through the crack in the door.

"Yes?" Tony repeated, quirking an eyebrow in suspicion.

The girl stepped up from where she'd been lingering a few paces behind the boy, rolling her eyes at her hesitant companion. "Prince Loki has invited you to be his guest, to dine with the royal family this eve," she stated, sounding way too formal for a girl who looked like she was just barely out of her teens.

Tony opened the door a bit wider, but continued to watch the kids warily. "Okay. So, what are you doing here?"

In response, the girl nudged the boy on the shoulder. He flailed a bit in surprise and huffed at her, but then raised his hands, drawing attention to the pile of folded clothes he was holding.

"We are to help you prepare," the girl elaborated.

Tony levied a curious look at both of them before sighing and opening the door all the way. The girl – who was obviously the one in charge – didn't wait for an invitation and marched into the room. The boy followed more sedately, bowing his head and letting Tony close the door behind him.

"I am Runa," the girl called over her shoulder. She stopped by the bed and turned, pointing to the boy. "This is Aksel."

Aksel nodded curtly in Tony's general direction, keeping his eyes down, and dropped the clothing on the end of the bed.

"We have brought attire that is more suited to a feast." Runa looked Tony up and down, seeming unimpressed by the casual outfit he'd been gifted by Heimdall.

"Thanks," Tony told her off-handedly.

"Would you care to bathe first?" Runa offered, nodding toward the bathroom.

And really, that sounded delightful. So Tony shrugged and said, "Sure."

Wordlessly, Aksel made his way into the bathroom and started collecting towels and soaps. At Runa's urging, Tony followed.

"You may strip now," Runa instructed. Except it really sounded more like an order, and the authority in the girl's voice was eerily reminiscent of Pepper.

Tony pointed through the doorway, to the bedroom. "And you're just gonna wait out there, or. . . what?"

"Of course not." Runa scoffed. "We are here to help you, after all."

Tony wheeled around to face the girl. "Uh-huh. And why does that involve watching me get naked?" he asked dubiously.

"Well, that is typically how one bathes," Runa retorted, folding her arms over her chest.

In some part of his brain, Tony realized these kids were actually hundreds of years old and that they must be servants in the castle (which, honestly, brought up a whole other series of ethical concerns about just what 'servant' entailed, but that was for another time). They were likely accustomed to helping in all kinds of ways and a bath was, probably, nothing to them at all. But they still looked like teenagers and he was not about to parade around in his birthday suit in front of them.

"How about this," Tony proposed. "I'll wash myself – been doing it long enough, I think I've got it down by now – and you two can just wait in the other room to help me with the fancy duds once I'm done, okay?"

Runa and Aksel looked at each other curiously before the girl shrugged and exited the room with an exasperated sigh. Tony expected the boy to follow, so he turned to face the tub. Stroking his goatee, Tony eyed the fancy-looking spickets.

"Shall I run the water for you?" Aksel's quiet voice made Tony jump, and he flinched slightly when the boy sidled up next to him.

Tony rubbed at the back of his neck. "Everyone thinks they're smart until they try to operate someone else's bathtub – guess that goes for geniuses, too," he mused aloud.

Finally looking him the eye, Aksel chuckled and shook his head, his shaggy brown hair flopping as he did. Without waiting for a response, he leaned forward, tapped a panel on the wall, and then turned one of the faucets.

"Huh." Tony smirked at the kid. "Thanks."

Aksel nodded in acknowledgement before leaving the room. This time, Tony made sure to watch him go and shut the door behind him before removing his clothes and slipping into the tub. He washed quickly, not wanting to leave the pair waiting long. Although, he made a note to take a more relaxing soak later, because he could definitely use it and the tub appeared to have many functions that he was itching to try out (massaging jets, perhaps?).

Once out of the bath, Tony dried himself and tied the towel around his waist. He used another towel to dry his hair as he walked out of the bathroom. Runa wasted no time, grabbing Tony's wrist and dragging him over to the bed. He had to grab onto the towel to hold it at his waist, preventing the girl from pulling it away from him. When Runa crouched down and made to put Tony's pants on him, he held a hand up.

"I got it," he told her sternly, taking the pants from her. They weren't like the leather-ish leggings he'd been wearing earlier. These were looser trousers, made of linen and a deep brown color. He stepped into them and pulled them up, keeping the towel in place until he had gotten the pants completely on. He finally loosed the towel from his waist, passing it off to Runa while Aksel handed him a thin silver shirt with a shimmering sheen to it.

Tony slipped it on and rubbed the material between his fingers, admiring the fish-scale pattern and how it seemed to be both sturdy and light-weight. "What is this, Mithril?" Tony asked jokingly. When he saw the confused expressions from Aksel and Runa, he cleared his throat. "Never mind," he muttered, waving a dismissive hand and tucking the undershirt into his trousers.

Next, both teens helped him into a large chain-mail tunic with rivets, which was much heavier than the undershirt. It was more of a steel gray but complemented the pants nicely. It made a soft clinking noise when Tony moved, but it was far too light and ornamental to be any kind of metal he was familiar with – although he was fairly certain it would still hold up in a battle if necessary.

Runa nudged Tony's arms up and out of her way as she wrapped a sash-like tie around his waist. Then Aksel wrapped a cloak over Tony's shoulders, with one lapel longer than the other so it could wrap around and fasten around his neck. The cloak and sash were both a deep emerald green.

"Last thing," Runa said as she held up a pair of heavy leather boots. Tony sat on the edge of the bed and tugged the boots on. They were snug, but not uncomfortably so. The dark brown leather came up to the middle of Tony's calf and instead of laces or buckles, they were secured with straps that had holes in the ends for toggles to fit through. Tony rubbed the toggles once Aksel had finished securing them all. They felt smooth and polished but there were some divots in them, like the toggles acting as buttons were made of some kind of bone – antlers, maybe.

Boots secured, Tony stood and held his arms out to the side. "Well?" he asked his helpers. "How do I look?"

"Spectacular," a voice answered from the other side of the room. Tony's head snapped in that direction, to find Loki leaning in the doorway.

"I didn't hear you come in," Tony commented.

Loki smirked and pushed off the door frame, gracefully crossing the room with a few long strides. As he approached, Runa and Aksel both bowed their heads.

"You may take your leave," Loki told them.

"Certainly, Prince Loki," Runa replied with a quick curtsy.

"Highness," Aksel mumbled in acknowledgement, dipping even lower in a bow, before Runa tugged his sleeve and led him to the door.

"Wait," Tony called to the two. They both froze and spun around instantly. Aksel kept his head angled to the floor, as he had done the majority of the time, but Runa met Tony's eyes. "Thanks for your help," he told them with a smile.

Aksel actually looked up at that, surprise flickering across his face before he seemed to regain composure. He and Runa both nodded curtly, and then they were gone.

Tony turned back to Loki, who was watching him with interested eyes.

"What?" Tony asked, shrinking back slightly under the other man's intense gaze.

Loki looked at him a moment longer before blinking, finally breaking his stare and shaking his head in what almost seemed like a fond gesture. Before Tony could press, Loki's focus turned to the sash at Tony's waist. He swallowed harshly and nodded toward the garment. "That's tied wrong."

"Oh," was all Tony could manage in return. He looked down at the sash with a frown since he had no idea what was 'wrong' about it or how to fix it.

"May I?" Loki asked, raising an eyebrow. Tony nodded and lifted his arms so they were out of the way.

Loki stepped into Tony's space and his long fingers made quick work of undoing the tie. He repositioned it and then started tying it again. The prince had to bend down a bit to work and his hair fell forward a bit, right in front of Tony's face. Tony clenched and unclenched his fists, in the air at his sides, willing himself not to run his fingers through the dark locks which looked unfairly soft. Standing this close, Tony could smell an earthy, woodsy scent on Loki. He inhaled deeply and before he could stop himself, he blurted, "You smell nice."

Loki's fingers faltered for half a second before he caught himself. "Thank you," he muttered with a breathy chuckle as he finished tying the sash and stepped back.

"Thanks for the clothes," Tony told him. Loki merely nodded in return. "How was your meeting thing?"

"Hmm?"

"You said you had somewhere to be earlier?" Tony reminded him.

Loki's eyes widened for a second before he seemed to recover, waving his arm dismissively. "Oh, yes. That was nothing. It was fine." He sighed heavily as he looked toward the door. "Shall we?"

With a gulp, Tony nodded and followed the Trickster out into the corridor, heading for the dining hall.

() * () * () * () *

The dining hall was not quite what Tony had expected. After the Hogwarts vibe he'd gotten from the library and based on everything he'd seen thus far, he was half-anticipating a Great Hall oozing with excess. But instead of long tables and floating candles and an enchanted ceiling (which definitely was not out of the realm of possibility), he found something that looked more like it belonged in the ancient castles he'd visited in Scotland and Ireland back in his youth. The hall was huge and ornate, for certain, with high vaulted ceilings and decorative wood-carved pillars. But otherwise, it wasn't anything overly spectacular. There were countless tables of all sizes, round and square, throughout the space. People were either sitting at the tables or standing near them, drinking and laughing together while workers hurried to finish setting out plates and cutlery, filling up tankards, and placing appetizer plates at the center of each table. The largest table was, indeed, a long table at the end of the room, facing out to watch everyone else. And, unsurprisingly, that seemed to be where Loki was guiding him.

Frigga was standing at the end of the long table, talking to one of the servers, finishing up and turning just as Loki and Tony approached. "Loki," she crooned, pulling the dark-haired prince into a hug. He patted her lightly with one arm before pulling away and clearing his throat like an awkward teenager at a dance.

Then, Frigga looked at Tony and smiled. "Anthony," she greeted politely.

"Your Majesty."

The queen frowned and wrinkled her brows. "So formal," she tutted before pulling Tony into a warm hug. He grunted in surprise (and from her Asgardian strength) before chuckling and hugging her back. When she released him, she held his shoulders and looked in his eyes. "Please call me Frigga." She leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, "But 'Queen' Frigga in front of others."

"Okay," Tony replied with a smile. Frigga released him and the Hall suddenly filled with loud chatter and laughter, as Thor and his friends entered. Tony watched Thor make his way up to them, jovially poking at his companions, his booming laugh filling the Hall.

"Mother," Thor greeted, hugging Frigga tightly. She sat down once he let her go, and then Thor turned to Tony, slapping him on the back. Hard. "Howardson, excellent to see you again!" He wrapped a huge arm around Tony's shoulders and pulled him close. Tony laughed, a slight nervousness to the sound, as he inhaled the scent of heavy mead on Thor's breath. It reminded Tony of his younger days, when he'd spend hours at parties and night-clubs until he was so drunk he barely knew his own name and would then go home with the person closest to him.

"Thor, are you trying to pop his head off?" Sif teased with a cackle as she appeared on Tony's other side. Thor snorted in amusement before releasing the smaller man. Tony rubbed at his neck as he moved away from the Thunderer, stumbling into Sif.

"Sorry," Tony mumbled. But Sif merely rolled her eyes before giving him a shove away from her, only to have him crash into the back of Volstagg and stagger backwards. Unused to the heavy boots he was wearing, the engineer tripped over his own feet and fell forward. He was trying to come up with a way to catch himself when a pair of arms wrapped around his waist and righted him.

"Fucking Vikings," Tony muttered to himself. He heard a soft chuckle in his ear and turned his head, looking over his shoulder at Loki. He turned so he was facing the other man. "Thanks," Tony told him with a shrug.

"The pleasure was mine," Loki purred with a smirk. It was then that Tony realized the Trickster's hands were still on his waist, and he looked up into amused blue-green eyes. Loki didn't remove his hands, still holding Tony firmly and staring down at him, almost challengingly.

"Um." Tony suddenly felt like he was wandering the deserts of Afghanistan again and had swallowed sand. He licked his lips – not missing the way Loki's eyes followed the movement.

Suddenly, Loki's eyes widened and he froze for a second with a deer-in-the-headlights look. In the next instant, he had released Tony and backed up several paces, putting a good amount of distance between them before clasping his hands together behind his back. Tony was about to say something when he realized that a hush had fallen over the entire room. He followed the sound of footsteps, to where everyone else was watching a figure enter the Hall.

It took only half a second for Tony to register who the man was.

Odin was, actually, exactly how Tony had imagined him. He wasn't huge by any means, not like Thor, but it was obvious that he'd been a formidable warrior in his day. He had an air of authority about him and just looked downright regal. The only thing that sort of took Tony by surprise was the golden eye-patch he was wearing. It made Tony wonder what Nick Fury would look like with a gold patch and the image was more entertaining than it should have been, so Tony had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

As Odin approached, everyone dropped to a knee. Tony glanced over his shoulder to see Loki had taken a knee and had his head bowed low. Tony quickly looked away before the image of Loki on his knees could generate much of a thought process and instead followed suit, crouching on one knee.

Odin silently made his way to the table, pausing only to kiss Frigga's hand, before turning to face the Asgardians. "The feast shall commence," Odin announced, his voice booming through the hall with seemingly no effort.

As quickly as everything had come to a halt, it roared back to life. Everyone stood and started talking again as they all made their way to their respective tables. Tony had barely straightened back up when Loki was grabbing his sleeve and pulling him to a chair.

"Loki."

At the sound of his father's voice, Loki froze. He let go of Tony's arm and spun on his heel, turning to Odin. "Father," he replied with a respectful nod.

"Who might this be?" Odin asked, his one-eyed gaze falling on Tony – and it was all Tony could do not to shrink under its intensity.

"This is Anthony," Loki answered dutifully. "He is an accomplished weaponsmith."

"Oh?" Odin looked Tony up and down before focusing back on Loki. "Did something happen to one of the castle smiths?"

"No," Loki responded coolly. "But I had seen Anthony's work and invited him here, to guarantee that we have all the best craftsmen readily available."

Odin gave his youngest a curious look, furrowing his eyebrows questioningly. "It is rare for someone to impress you, Loki."

Loki nodded curtly. "Indeed."

With a click of his tongue, Odin turned to Tony. "Tell me, Anthony, are you as skilled as my son claims you to be?"

Plastering a smug grin on his face, Tony answered, "Well, I certainly think so."

Loki snorted beside him, making Tony's shit-eating grin widen all the more. Odin eyed him with scrutiny before letting out a quiet scoff and shaking his head, almost fondly. Almost.

"Now I see why," Odin told Loki. And then, the super powerful Allfather sighed and made his way over to his chair next to Frigga. Thor hurried over to sit on Odin's other side, excitedly chattering to him. Sif and the Warriors Three fell in line at the chairs on Thor's right, filling up that end of the table.

"So, was that a good thing?" Tony asked, nodding in Odin's direction.

Loki hummed thoughtfully. "He has approved of your presence, but also deemed you unworthy of further attention," he finally explained.

"Unworthy?" Tony was instantly insulted.

"Worry not," Loki chided. "The Allfather only has room for one as his focal point." He jerked his chin toward Odin, where Thor was animatedly talking and gesturing.

"It is not unusual to be cast to the side," Loki added quietly, almost to himself.

Tony looked back just in time to see the pained expression on the prince's face being wiped away with a small shake of his head. It was replaced with the cocky half-smirk that Tony was beginning to think was less about actual arrogance and more of a defense mechanism (and he should know, he'd seen the look in the mirror plenty of times).

"Come," Loki prompted as he led Tony closer to the table. Loki sat down next to Frigga. She smiled warmly at both of them and squeezed her son's shoulder affectionately.

Tony sat in the chair beside Loki, with a couple chairs remaining empty at their end. Apparently, this was the VIP section – royalty and special guests only. Thor had his four groupies, making Tony Loki's plus-one. For some reason, that caused a smile to spread across Tony's face, which he was quick to wipe off when he caught Loki eyeing him curiously. The last thing he needed was for Loki to ask what he was grinning about. Especially since Tony couldn't really explain it to himself.

Clearing his throat and sighing heavily, Tony focused his attention on the food that was being served in front of him. He was vaguely aware of Loki watching from his peripheral, but more than that, Tony didn't miss the way Odin kept glancing in his direction. Determined to keep from drawing unnecessary attention to himself, Tony followed the lead of everyone around him and started eating.

() * () * () * () *

Halfway through the meal, Tony realized that remaining inconspicuous was going to be easier said than done.

Because Asgardians? They eat a lot.

As in, way more than any regular human (like Tony) could eat on the most gluttonous Thanksgiving. And this was, apparently, just an ordinary Tuesday.

Tony had already eaten way too much. And, just like Thanksgiving, he felt like being the creepy uncle who unbuttons his pants and passes out in front of the TV. But that was, for obvious reasons, an impossibility.

Somehow, though, there was still a hearty helping of food on his plate. And nobody else seemed ready to even slow down, let alone stop.

After picking at a piece of unidentified meat (which Tony convinced himself "tastes like chicken") for several minutes, Tony finally had no choice but to tap out. He dropped his fork and leaned back in his chair with a heavy sigh.

Loki paused with his goblet halfway to his mouth and gave Tony a side-eye. "Is something the matter?" he asked, a hint of mirth in his voice.

"Huh? Oh. Nah, I'm good." Tony shrugged it off, allowing Loki to take a sip of wine. Then the inventor leaned to the side and whispered, "Just, uh, which way to the vomitorium?"

Loki snorted, obviously taking wine down the wrong pipe. He lowered the goblet carefully, spluttering to avoid spitting wine everywhere. Frigga looked over worriedly.

"Are you all right?" she asked, placing a hand on her youngest's back.

Loki coughed a bit into his fist, before shaking his head. "I'm fine," he told her. Frigga raised a brow and patted Loki's back but seemed to accept his answer, returning to her own plate. Loki then turned to Tony and levied a curious look at him, but he was also smirking, so Tony grinned back at him. Apparently, whatever he'd said was like some kind of inside joke between them now.

"Brother!" Thor's voice boomed at the same as his hands clamped down on Loki's shoulders. Immediately, Loki started squirming from his brother's grasp. In response, Thor merely slid his hands lower, wrapping his arms around the thin frame and laying his head on Loki's shoulder.

"Thor," Loki growled through gritted teeth, his face taut.

"We are going out," Thor announced in Loki's ear, grinning. "And this time, you are coming with us." In one fluid motion, Thor pulled Loki up with him, out of his seat, still clinging to him like a baby koala. Over Loki's shoulder, Thor looked at Tony. "You, too, Howardson!"

Suddenly, Tony felt hands under his arms. He looked back in time to see Fandral hauling him out of his seat, beaming at him.

Thor and his friends started dragging Tony and Loki away, calling goodbyes to Frigga and Odin before chattering amongst themselves. Loki was attempting to wriggle out of his brother's iron grip, but failing miserably at that. He was also speaking, probably trying to talk his way out of things, but that didn't seem to be accomplishing anything, either.

Tony didn't even bother trying to squirm or talk his way out of Fandral's hold. That seemed to appease the blond somewhat, at least, because Frandral walked at Tony's side with his arms draped over his shoulders. It was far more amenable than the death-grip Thor still had on Loki, arms around his neck as he shoved him along.

Hogun and Volstagg trotted ahead of them, playfully punching and teasing each other down the corridor. Tony glanced back to see Sif sauntering along behind them, a scrutinizing look on her face as her gaze darted back and forth between Tony and Loki.

"So, uh," Tony turned his attention back to Fandral. "Where exactly are we going?"

Fandral smiled and squeezed his shoulder. "To the pub, my friend!"

"I thought you guys already did that earlier," Tony couldn't help saying, raising a brow.

In response, Fandral only laughed. "After the coronation, Thor will have many responsibilities. We must take every opportunity to celebrate his remaining time as a carefree Prince."

Tony chuckled and nodded. "So, it's like a big bachelor party blowout."

Fandral glanced sideways at the engineer, thinking for a moment before throwing his head back and laughing again, heartily. "Thor!" he called, rushing forward a bit and making Tony all but run to keep up. "Anthony has made an excellent suggestion!"

"I did?" Tony asked, at the same time Loki narrowed his eyes and hissed, "You did?"

Thor spun around, releasing Loki slightly so he could look at Tony and Fandral. "What is this idea?"

"A stag night!" Frandral replied brightly.

"Did you say stag night?" Volstagg asked excitedly, wheeling around to face them.

Anything else that was said was lost as Thor and his friends prattled on, making plans. Sif watched amusedly from the rear. Finally, she rolled her eyes and held up a hand. "If it's a stag night you're after, count me out."

"You're still welcome, Sif!" Thor called. But the woman merely shook her head. She patted Thor's cheek as she walked past him.

"Try not to cause too much trouble," she called over her shoulder before disappearing around the corner.

Tony wasn't the least bit sorry to see her go.

The next several moments went by in a blur. Fandral had hold of Tony again and Thor once again was latched onto Loki, dragging both of them along the corridors, out the palace, down the streets, and eventually through the doors of a pub.

Once they were inside and at the counter, Fandral and Thor finally released their hold on their respective prisoners, focusing instead on ordering several large steins of ale.

Tony watched in awe at the sheer amount of alcohol the Asgardians were collecting and, apparently, planning on drinking. He only looked away from the bar when he realized that, amongst the throng of other patrons, he had been bodily pushed into someone else. Once again, he found himself with Loki's hands on his forearms, steadying him.

"This is becoming a habit," Loki told him.

"This wasn't actually my idea, you know," Tony insisted, gesturing at the raucous crowd around them.

Loki rolled his eyes, but didn't really look mad, so that was good at least.

The sound of shattering glass drew their attention. A brawl broke out between a couple other Space Vikings. One punched the other, sending him stumbling backward, in Tony's direction. Loki still had hold of Tony's arms and pulled him out of the way of the drunken fight.

"Shit." Tony let out a heavy breath.

"All right?" Loki asked. Tony froze, though, when he realized how close Loki's voice was to his ear, his breath hot against the nape of Tony's neck.

They had wound up in a less crowded corner of the bar, with Tony pressed flush against Loki. Tony looked up into the prince's face – terribly close, with those bright eyes shining down on him so intently.

"Why are you here?" Loki asked, almost a whisper yet somehow still able to be heard over the din of the bar.

Tony's eyes darted back and forth across Loki's face as he tried to figure out how to respond. The momentary stupor ended abruptly when Loki spun Tony around, shoving him up against the wall. Tony's breath left him a rush, still not sure what to do about the mage being so close to him. Then Loki grabbed Tony's pendant.

"Hey, don't—"

"Shh." Loki closed his eyes, brows furrowing in concentration as he rubbed his thumb back and forth across the face of the pendant.

Tony looked down, watching Loki's fingers move across the stone around his neck. He was fully aware of the fact that the pendant was somehow keeping his identity hidden from everyone else and it was also his way home. All Loki had to do was rip it from Tony's neck and disappear, which would leave Tony royally fucked. And while a part of him was worried about that, he also realized he was, ultimately, quite powerless to stop that from happening. Plus, he wasn't entirely nearly as worried as he suspected he would have been before. So, he stood still, trusting the Trickster of all people, and trying to calm his racing heart.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Loki released the pendant and stepped back, taking a shaky breath.

Tony grabbed the pendant himself, for reassurance, and quickly tucked it into his shirt. The look Loki was giving him was odd. As though he were perplexed, or maybe conflicted. There was a hint of something in his eyes, just beneath the surface. Some problem he was trying to work out.

"Tell me, Anthony," Loki began, surprisingly soft. "What is it you want?"

That hesitant look that had clouded Loki's eyes remained as his gaze tracked across Tony's face. "What are you doing here?" Loki prodded.

"I don't know," Tony finally allowed himself to admit. His voice was just barely a whisper but he was sure, somehow, that Loki heard him.

Just then, Thor found them. "You're missing all the fun!" He slurred, spilling mead on Loki's shoulder when he dragged him into yet another bear hug. "Do you know how much I appreciate you, Brother?" Thor was mumbling. Loki groaned as Thor planted a sloppy kiss on Loki's cheek.

Tony suddenly remembered the things Thor had told him before he arrived in Asgard. And he felt like he'd been slammed in the stomach with a ton of bricks and all the wind was knocked out of him. "I need some air," he heard himself all but shout before shoving past the two princes and the rest of the carousing Asgardians, until he finally made it to the door and stepped out into the cool night air.

Tony took several hurried steps away from the pub, stopping near a brick wall and putting his palms on it, leaning forward and panting to catch his breath.

"Fucking idiot," he growled to himself.

Tony had never paid much attention to Thor's origin story. He knew shit hit the fan in a major way at the coronation and that Thor had been banished to Earth, but he couldn't remember what happened, exactly. Somehow, he thought maybe Loki was responsible. For a moment, Tony had worried that he was already too late and the mission had failed before it even started. But, then, why would Thor send him back here, to this point, if that was the case? Obviously, there was more that happened but Tony couldn't, for the life of him, remember.

He thought he'd been getting sidetracked. That spending time with Loki, letting Loki charm him, had been the wrong move.

Tony had been so focused on Thor's ominous warning that "if all else fails, don't let go." But Thor had given him another message, too – one that Tony had more or less forgotten about until just now, when Thor had playfully kissed Loki in the pub. Because Thor had kissed Tony, too. Back before all this started, before he got to Asgard. That motherfucking kiss – which was, supposedly, from Loki himself.

He spent a couple seconds racking that genius mind of his for any other logical explanation for Alternate-Universe-Future-Loki telling AU-Future-Thor to plant one on Tony. Except, Thor had said it was incentive.

Hysterical laughter bubbled up. Because things were suddenly making sense. And, really, it was so damned simple. Yet, it was also insanely complicated.

Tony spun around and leaned back against the brick wall, tilting his head up to look at the sky, feeling simultaneously relieved and defeated. He snorted to himself as realization hit him. The whole reason for him being here, for this mission, was that he needed to find a way to stop Loki from going over to the Dark Side. But, contrary to his original thoughts, achieving that had nothing to do with finding a way to make Loki choose The Good Guys. . . it meant making Loki choose Tony.