Tony felt wonderfully drowsy, as though he had drunk the sweetest wine. He lay pressed against his new husband's side, smiling and lightly stroking his hand against the arm that was wrapped around him and holding him close.

His eyes were closed, but he could still see the soft glow of candlelight through his eyelids, the warmth of the hundreds of candles that Loki had dotted around their bedroom easing into his muscles after the long, wonderful day of their wedding. This was his first time in Loki's bed. They had been all but living together at Tony's home behind his workshop for months, but Loki had insisted on waiting until after they were married to sleep together in what would be their official residence in the palace. Asgardian tradition called for the decking of their bower with flowers, and the bed was decorated with roses and lilacs, morning glories and lily of the valley, violets and tiger lilies. They swooped in festoons from the canopy, wrapped in spirals around the wooden bedposts, and covered the headboard behind their pillows, permeating the air with a sweet scent that brought to mind the happiest days of springtime, when everything was new and fresh and filled with endless expanses of hope.

"Are you happy, my love?" Loki murmured, lifting Tony's hand that rested over his heart and kissing it.

"With all that I am," Tony responded, curling closer to him. "I love you."

"And I love you, my Anthony," he said, entwining their fingers together.

They lay together in happy silence for a long minute, but Tony's curiosity had begun to itch at the back of his mind. There was something he had always wondered, and now he wanted to find out the answer to a question he had been pondering for years.

"Loki," Tony said, propping himself up on one elbow to look at him, "why do you call me Anthony?"

"Is it not your name?" Loki said, raising an eyebrow. "Or have I married the wrong man?"

Tony laughed, resting his chin on Loki's chest, just near the scars over his heart, and said, "It is, of course, but no one calls me by it save you. To everyone else, I'm Tony."

"Do you dislike it?" Loki asked, sounding worried.

"No, no, I love it," Tony said quickly. "I just don't know how it happened."

Loki hummed, closing his eyes and asked, "Shall I tell you the story of it?"

"I get a bedtime story?" Tony asked, grinning. "I think I'd like that."

Loki opened his eyes again and ruffled his husband's hair.

"Then, my best beloved, once upon a time there was a handsome weaponsmith," he said.

"Would that be me?"

"It would."

"I already like this story."

Loki chuckled and continued, "He had the deepest brown eyes, like the depths of the woods in autumn, and a smile that could turn from gentle and loving to wickedly sinful in a moment."

Tony wiggled his eyebrows, earning another laugh.

"One day, the younger prince, who had heard of his marvelous inventions, paid the weaponsmith a visit. He expected to find a grizzled old man past his father's age because he reasoned it would have taken thousands of years to learn so much skill in his trade. To his surprise and delight, he found the man was not only brilliant, but young and possessed great beauty of face and form."

"In other words, you thought I was worthy of your bed," Tony teased, picking one of the tiger lilies and stroking it down his love's cheek.

"And wearing a great deal too many clothes into the bargain, leaving me having to imagine those stunning muscles of yours," Loki said, running his fingers over his strong back, "though you more than live up to my dreams of you."

Tony batted his eyelashes wildly, earning a sharp smack to his backside.

"And what was this paragon's name?" Tony asked.

"He was introduced to the prince as one Anthony Howardson," Loki said. "Good manners would have been to call the man just Howardson, and at first, the prince did."

"Until the prince told him one evening over dinner that the weaponsmith might call him Loki, his name, instead of his title," Tony said.

"Which of us is telling this story?" Loki said, giving him a mock-glare.

"You, but I doubt you know how much the weaponsmith's heart raced at that, nor how he needed to sip his ale to hide the flush that climbed his cheeks," Tony admitted. "Even then, so long ago, I was taken with my handsome prince."

Loki blushed a little himself, drawing Anthony closer to him.

"No, the prince did not know that, but the weaponsmith said that the prince need no longer address him by his father's name, meaning they were now intimate acquaintances," Loki said. "Not so intimate as I might have wished, but that came in its own time."

"Yes, but I never said what to call me instead," Tony said. "You lighted upon Anthony."

"I did," Loki said. "Rhodey and Pepper and even Peter all called you Tony, and it had a good, friendly, hearty tone to it when they said it, a sign of how much they valued your friendship. I considered doing the same, but I had hopes for something more besides your friendship. So I called you Anthony, knowing I would be the only one to do so and hoping for our relationship to one day be a love in which we could be fully ourselves, unafraid to be who we are or share our deepest, truest natures. I hoped to have all of you and to give all of myself to you, even in name."

Tony was silent, looking at him and feeling his heart melt within him at the tender meaning of what Loki called him. They had weathered many challenges together, separations and even the specter of death, but Tony would not have traded any of it as it meant they had come to this moment when they were at last together and had freely chosen one another with all of their shared hearts.

"Also, it sounds sinfully decadent when I moan it in our bed," Loki added, grinning.

"And I believe you shall be doing that again right soon," Tony said, putting his hands up to the prince's face and kissing him, the joy of having this man for the rest of his life almost too much for his heart to bear.

And they both lived happily ever after.