Peeps! An update! Rejoice! This somehow became a much longer chapter than intended, again. But hey, they kind of finally get to the gala at the end? And you can expect a scene that a number of you were potentially expecting – I mean, it was a rather obvious thing to do, so I did it. Couldn't help myself. It didn't turn out exactly the way it went it my head, but oh well.
Enjoy!
PREVIOUSLY ON ASAF: [Tony and Rhodey] sped up their eating, and Loki surreptitiously matched their speed to finish just after they stood up. With a 'later, peeps,' they were gone, back down below the earth, and Loki put his cutlery down as well, plate clean. He wiped his mouth with the provided serviette and stood. "I will retire as well," he said with a short bow, and left before anyone could think it wise to call him back. He had to plan for tonight's very unwelcome, unsafe public event.
CHAPTER 38
Before he realised where his feet had brought him, Loki found himself in the room Thor had slept in last before going back to Asgard, sentimental fool that he was. It was the prospect of the ball. It reminded him of so many banquets and subsequent dances in the court, with some dignitary or other from Vanaheimr and their daughters who wanted to dance with Thor but ended up with second best. They never knew their luck; Loki never stepped on anyone's feet or bumped his partner into the other couples twirling past.
"J.A.R.V.I.S., what does a Midgardian ball look like exactly?" He had seen many different declinations of such events, both in Midgard's own history and elsewhere in the galaxy. He could not adequately plan anything if he did not have the right information.
"If you would take out your phone, Mr Friggason, I will show you how previous Stark events have gone, as well as Miss Potts' intent for this evening's gala."
J.A.R.V.I.S. showed him everything he could ever need, from the entrance by car and a walk over a carpet that for some reason needed to be red – perhaps because it was the most ostentatious colour in existence – the banquet tables called buffet, the alcoholic drinks of great variety either brought around the room or ordered directly with the drink-maker at the bar, the socialising, the speeches, the donations, the mostly sparse dancing floor. As suspected, Midgardian galas were more events to flaunt one's wealth than anything else.
Loki had just put the phone back in his pocket when it beeped twice. He frowned and checked his skin – this was not the temperature-related beeping Tony had spoken about, then. He took the phone back out to find a message on the screen; the top read Deputy Director Coulson. 'Forgot to say at lunch, but you should refrain from talking to any of the press on the red carpet. Same goes for Stark, but I doubt he'll listen. It's up to you if you drag him inside quickly or if you let him dig his own grave. S.H.I.E.L.D. won't save him from his own stupidity, just FYI.'
"What does FYI mean?"
"For Your Information."
"Why did he not write that, then?"
"Humans and their love for initialisms, acronyms and abbreviations. I'm afraid I cannot solve that mystery, Mr Friggason."
Loki put the phone back in his pocket and sat down on the edge of the bed. There were many things he needed to consider for tonight, but his major issue, really, was magic. Almost all plans he came up with, as well as most contingencies, required at least some use of magic. And of that, he himself had none.
If he stayed close to Tony the whole night, he would of course have access to the Arc Reactor. However, if for some reason they separated, Loki only had his physical strength and prowess to count on. It was a great power to have here on Midgard, certainly, but it did not guarantee neither his nor Tony's safety. If he voiced his trepidations about tonight he was certain Tony would dismiss it out of hand. And it was not as if Loki had evidentiary arguments to throw at him; he simply had a sense of unease that would not leave him. Then again, such a thing had happened quite often when it came to such events. Rarely had anything dreadful occurred.
Still. Loki would like access to some form of magic while away from his soulmate. Besides, there was something else he wanted to try. Deputy Director Coulson had said he should go to the ball in his Jötunn skin. Loki would rather not, if he could help it. He understood the concern of him appearing as he was now, especially since he had now seen the amount of cameras such events usually attracted. Magic could solve both their problems, if he could find a source that he could use. At this point he would not mind trying one of Tony's Arc Reactors again. If he channelled it slowly enough and pretended the wild anger of it didn't taste as foul as it did, then surely…
Tony's presence suddenly moved at great speed, from underground to high in the sky and then away in an arc – he must have gone for his flight with Rhodey. This was his chance. Loki strode to the elevator and pushed the button to the workshop.
"Mr Friggason?"
"I am going to need your help, J.A.R.V.I.S.. I cannot in good conscience attend this gala without some access to magic."
"And is there a reason why you seem keen to find such a source of magic less than a minute after Sir left?"
J.A.R.V.I.S. was sharp. Loki liked that about the Artificial Intelligence, but it was rather inconvenient at times. "I—" Loki stopped himself before he uttered a lie. He might need the opportunity to lie later without Tony wondering what this was all about. Better to keep his soulmate's attention far away from him. "Without magic I feel vulnerable. I do not like people knowing that I feel vulnerable."
Two truths that in association with J.A.R.V.I.S.' question would make him assume he had just revealed why he was acting right now. In truth, Loki simply wanted to let Tony have his space, since that was obviously what he wished for, given his actions during lunch. And also, he did not want to ask for an Arc reactor, or worse. He could be refused. If he did not ask, he would not be refused. It was usually the only way to get things done – so many people had a tendency to miss the very valid reasons for Loki's undertakings.
J.A.R.V.I.S. finally let him out of the elevator, and Loki scanned the room. Though he did not understand how it could be possible, the room's chaos had grown immensely. He did not have time to search the whole place for potential Arc reactors lying about. He therefore walked straight to the closed vault.
"J.A.R.V.I.S.? Might I please borrow a magic source? Without informing Tony?" He gestured at the hidden door. "Are the Arc reactors in there?"
"They are indeed."
"I assume Tony has quite a number of them?"
"Indeed. However Sir does not like it when people touch his Arc reactors."
"Understandable. They are close to his heart. Literally. And they are now, in part, what makes up his magical core. I nonetheless wish to point out that, first and foremost, I am Tony's soulmate and therefore do not wish him any harm." Loki refrained from reminding the Artificial Intelligence that Tony and him were one, and therefore the Arc reactors were technically Loki's as well. He did not think it would be well received in this instance. "And he has shown little fear of showing me his Arc reactor himself."
"You do have a point, Mr Friggason. Even though it might seem rather superfluous at this point, may I ask you the question I postponed some time ago? What are your intentions towards Sir?"
Loki frowned. "Will you promise me that you will neither tell nor show Tony my answer to this question?"
"Certainly."
"In that case…" Loki inhaled sharply, and held his breath. This was harder than he thought. And he was not even revealing something new or surprising, nor was he saying it to the one person who should hear it the most – and yet the words were stuck in his throat. Norns, he was so pathetic. He was a prince of Asgard! He was not, like so many had said behind his back, a coward. He could tell the truth. "I—". He inhaled sharply again, heartbeat loud in his ears. "Ek elskask hann." Somehow it was easier in his native tongue. He did not doubt J.A.R.V.I.S. would be able to figure out what he meant.
"Þǫkk." Thanks. The pronunciation was not correct, but the sentiment was welcome. Thank you for sharing that. Perhaps even thank you for loving him. A small smile pulled at his face.
The door to the vault opened, and Loki quickly stepped inside before anyone could change their mind. He headed to the small locked door where he had seen some of Tony's Arc reactors the last time he had been allowed inside. He also noticed a box of a very familiar size that had definitely not been there before. He only hesitated for a fraction of a second before gingerly opening the box – as he suspected, it held the now inert sceptre. He eyed the elegantly shaped weapon for a few more moments before snapping the box shut again with finality and stepping away from it. It held a world of unpleasant memories.
Loki turned back to the location of the Arc reactors, and with a beep the small door opened. "If you would pull out the second drawer, Mr Friggason, I believe you might find what you are looking for."
The tray Loki pulled out contained three very small Arc reactors. "Sir uses these for smaller projects. I thought it might perhaps be easier to hide on your person. Of course, they do not generate as much energy as the ones you are familiar with."
Loki picked one of the miniature reactors up with two fingers, and the initial reaction was unpleasant – less potent, though similar to the one Tony had described as his older model. "Would these perhaps contain what Tony called Palladium?"
"You are correct. You are able to instantly recognise the elemental composition, then?"
"It is more the magical composition and reaction to my own that gives it away."
"In that case, the third drawer contains the Starkium Arc reactors, though these are full-sized as per Sir's current requirements."
The tray Loki pulled out only contained one such Arc reactor. He passed his finger over it, and while it was not pleasant either, it was much more bearable – if he pushed himself, he would be able to mould this raw magic into shape, despite the fact it was not currently connected to Tony's core. It had been forged by Tony – though the foul Palladium ones were as well, of course – and his current magical signature was in part fuelled by the twin of this. Loki would probably not be able to find anything better in Tony's technological collection. However…
"Is this the only reserve Arc reactor Tony currently has?" If that was what J.A.R.V.I.S. had been implying…
"Indeed."
"Tony could therefore be at risk if it were to be either damaged or drained."
"Indeed."
That explained J.A.R.V.I.S.' earlier line of inquiry. He would be trusting Loki with Tony's life – more than he already was, at any rate. There was still the top drawer that Loki had not been told to access. He knew what was in there. He could feel it. And he had very much been trying not to think about it. Now, however, he was not left with much of a choice.
He pulled the tray out before J.A.R.V.I.S. could protest or close the safe-box's door on him. It contained three things. The angry Palladium reactor and the newer, flat Arc reactor Tony had used in his magical scanning experiments. Both gave off lower energy levels than even the miniature reactors – something Loki had not noticed when he had helped Tony at the time. He wondered if their energy had been this low then, or if Tony had experimented more on them and used up most of their energy. Or perhaps their energy was not low at all, and it was only an illusion put up by the contrasting star of power that was the Mind Stone.
If he had the Mind Stone with him… He would not need to fear anything or anyone. No, that was not correct. He should never try to use the Mind Stone's own mind-bending prowess. All he needed was a source of magic that he could channel through his core. He was most probably not strong enough to handle the Mind Stone's own abilities in this state anyway. He would only use it as a power source. Just for the gala's purposes. Though he doubted J.A.R.V.I.S. would understand that if he were to explain.
Unsure of where all of J.A.R.V.I.S.' eyes were located, Loki decided to proceed with extreme caution. First, he checked that Tony was indeed still far away. He then slowly placed the palm of his hand a hair-breadth above the stone, and one of his finger just above the flat Starkium reactor, as if afraid to touch it. He let his finger drop, closed his eyes and made sure not to show the unpleasantness of the taste and sensation of the artificial magic on his face, nor the heady sensation of the stone's heat.
"What is your opinion on my compatibility with the Starkium reactors and not the Palladium ones?" Loki asked. A distraction, to keep J.A.R.V.I.S. occupied while he focused inward.
He did not want to risk using the phenomenal power of the stone quite yet, unprepared as he was. Therefore, he had to trickle the prickly magic of the reactor up his arm to scratch at his core, until he had enough for both spells to be cast simultaneously. They might not need much magic, not for such a small surface area, but controlling this raw magic so unlike Yggdrasil's easy flow… He might need more than expected. He hoped that J.A.R.V.I.S. would not be suspicious of him standing here for so long. The Artificial Intelligence was still speaking his theories, at any rate.
Now came the hardest part. Lifting his finger a mere fraction, Loki started to weave the first spell, making sure to keep his fingers utterly still as to not tip J.A.R.V.I.S. off. The transportation spell to and from his dimensional pocket had never been flashy, but it did usually come with the green-bluish glow of his magic, and he had to make certain he suppressed that to the maximum. Every pull and knot of the spell prickled his arm, the magical energy resisting him. When he arrived at the last knot he could only pray to the Norns that it worked. He did not even know if Infinity Stones naturally resisted such spells or not! In the next breath he felt the stone slip, blinked out of this space and into the unsubstantial area between dimensions that was linked to his core.
Quickly, without wasting a breath, he wove the much easier illusion spell and opened his eyes. With a quick glance he checked the visual aspects of his illusion. Not as bright a yellow glow as it should have been, but hopefully it was enough to fool J.A.R.V.I.S.. Loki quickly grabbed the flat Starkium reactor and replaced all the trays in the locker and closed it before he let the illusion spark out. He inhaled slowly so that J.A.R.V.I.S. would not realise he had been holding his breath for a very long time.
"I believe I can use this Arc Reactor sufficiently enough to protect me in case I am separated from Tony. Thank you." Loki felt the bond flare at the lie. Tony had noticed despite his current speedy loops through the sky. Hopefully he would not ask what it was all about.
Loki vacated the premises right away, in case Tony came close enough to the Tower to realise where he was exactly. With luck, Tony's current somersaults or whatever these up and down motions were, would hide Loki's speedy ascent in the elevator. In the corridor to their room, Loki stopped. Again, if Tony were to come back and decide to confront him for his lie, or for whatever other reason… Being in Thor's guest room – he did not want to think of it as still being Tony's former lover's room – would show he was in search of some privacy.
He made a beeline for the bathroom, before changing his mind and heading for the walk-in closet. Just like Tony's room-sized wardrobe, Miss Potts' contained a plethora of clothes and, most importantly, a big floor-to-ceiling mirror.
"J.A.R.V.I.S., you neither see within bathrooms nor closets, do you?"
"Bathrooms and closets are indeed private areas where no one is filmed."
"Good. I do not wish eyes on me while I attempt delicate magic." Especially since he would need to hold an Infinity Stone in the open. "Distractions are a sorcerer's archenemy," he added. It was one of his teacher's favourite phrases when he was learning magic as a youth. Now it served as the perfect excuse to be left alone.
Loki closed the door to the wardrobe and shed his clothes. He examined himself in the mirror – the hint of rib and loss of toning, as well as the faint pink scars still left by The Other's lack of hospitality. Whatever form he took, the scars would remain until they healed – either by smoothing out into fresh skin, or by lightening to the point of near invisibility. Until that happened, though, he would have to hide them. Luckily, this closet was full of clothes and jewellery of all shapes and colours, as well as powders and creams and other old-school cosmetics.
With the Arc reactor's help, Loki plucked the Mind Stone out of his dimensional pocket. The stone's power was formidable, and yet he had no doubt that this transformation would take him a very long time to achieve. To bring foreign magic into his core was one thing – to then distribute it to every single cell of his skin was quite another. He got to work.
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Tony touched down on his de-assembly balcony while Rhodey took the workshop route because he didn't want to get in an elevator with another sweaty guy. It had taken both J.A.R.V.I.S. and Rhodey to get him to stop his speedy fly-bys. Flying was the best procrastination technique out there, and procrastinate was exactly what Tony wanted to do. He didn't want to get ready for the gala. Because he didn't want to go to the gala. And yet he was going to the gala. There was really something not right with his life.
He took a much needed shower, and while he waited for his hair to go from wet to damp before he styled it, he took care of his goatee and plucked that one pesky hair from his bushy eyebrow days that had resisted all laser and electrolysis. His face looked as good as it was going to get – the light concealer didn't entirely hide the darker under-eyes and small pink scars, but whatever. He was a super-hero, not a super-model.
J.A.R.V.I.S. kindly directed him to specific shirts and suits and bow-ties, giving him some combinations that hadn't been seen in the press in at least the last year. You didn't have to be a super-model to be healthily fashion-conscious, thank you very much.
He was sitting on the end of the bed, tying the stupidly slippery fine laces of his gleaming black shoes, when another pair of shoes, these sparkly silver and high-heeled, stopped in his periphery. He followed the slim legs up to the knee-length ash grey tulle, to the sparkly ribbon at the waist, to the strapless, very-tight top that pushed the breasts together just so— But the hair that fell down on those clavicles wasn't red, or even strawberry blonde for that matter. Tony quickly rose and took a big step away from the mysterious black-haired lady.
"Who—" The question died on his lips when he looked the absolutely gorgeous woman in the eye and was sucked in by their vibrant, dark green sparkle. He blinked himself free of her gaze and looked her over once again.
Tony noticed a couple of things about the woman. Well, no, he noticed many things; the delicate, fine waves that framed her face as braids ran up the sides of her head into a half-updo; the light smoky make-up that made her gaze so penetrating; the hands with their mirror-like silver nails holding onto a black clutch at her waist; the sheer size of her, so slim but so tall, it was like her legs went on forever. But there were two things wrong about her. The stiffness of her limbs, and the one of a kind necklace that Tony very clearly remembered buying for Pepper not so long ago. And, most alarming of all, her honeyed smile was a lie.
He was used to fake smiles, and the fact that he could spot them easily wasn't what was weird. As a matter of fact, this smile was perfect – in and of itself it didn't spell 'lie' at all. The lips were quirked up just so, the eyes were crinkled and sparkling – there was a puzzled edge to them now that he kept staring – and her whole face was smiling as it should. And yet he knew – felt – with one hundred percent certainty that it was a lie. And the only time that happened…
Tony looked the woman up and down once more, his eyebrows rising as the truth settled in his gut; and the locating part of the soul bond concurred when he asked it 'where the hell is—'
"Loki?" he whispered, involuntarily stepping back once more. Loki. As a woman. It was— "No. Just— No."
The smile fell of her – his? – face so quickly, it was like Tony had dreamt it all up in the first place. The way the bond wrenched his core; it was almost like when they Morse-coded, except it was sharper, deeper. Tony's vision blurred at the edges, and it took him a second to figure out the origin. Not some hypotension or other, but tears welling up in his eyes. A quick check confirmed that it was indeed transference from Loki-who-didn't-look-like-Loki. No spilled tears yet, but her eyes shone like pearls and her lashes were clumping together in the corners. To say Tony was at a loss was as clear as the Koh-I-Noor diamond.
What on Earth was happening? How did he get himself in this frankly ridiculous situation? One; Loki was a woman. Why? Hadn't he said he never felt quite right the few times he transformed – what was the correct word? Shape-shifted? – into a female? Why was he doing it now? And wasn't he low on mana in the first place? Why waste it on something like this?
Two. Two was maybe the weirdest part of this. Tony wasn't blind – woman-Loki was drop-dead gorgeous, all slim and curvy with a hint of muscle definition in all the right places and any human model would envy her. She was frankly fucking perfect. Maybe a tad tall, but only because Tony was the one too small for her. It was like an elf-nymph-dryad and any other ethereal fae had mixed into one too-real-for-life being. Tony should be all for it. Tony should be drooling until he died of dehydration. She looked like his every wet dream come true. And yet. Just no.
He didn't get it. Why did this feel so wrong? Was it because he was just so used to Loki as a guy? Except he had no problem with the switching between Jötunn and Áss forms. And hadn't he thought Lady Fate had messed up by matching him up with a guy, or mostly-guy? Here was his soulmate as a woman. And all he felt was this overwhelming sense of wrongness. That this wasn't who Loki was supposed to be. Didn't Loki feel the same? That this wasn't who he was supposed to be?
And finally, three. He was making Loki cry again, except this time it looked more real and more painful than ever before. As a woman Loki's face looked much more expressive. Even when she wasn't showing much emotion in her features at all, still as a statue as she was, her eyes were a world of their own, showing every stab of hurt Tony's single word was causing. Though maybe only Tony could read those emotions there. He did have a front row seat, since every single wave of them was slamming into his own head, one after another like an accusation.
With one slow blink that made two perfect tears run down those razer-sharp cheekbones, all hint of any feeling at all had left her face. There was a coldness in the room, and it was hard to tell what the true cause was. Loki's closed off expression could have been it, or the sudden withdrawal of the bond – not shielding, just a sudden dimness as if someone switched off the lights – or the hint of blue that crept up Loki's face to spread all over her and made the air mist. It was probably a combination of all three, in all fairness.
And guess who was the root cause? God, Tony was sick of his clunky mouth-brain connection sometimes. Either he said too much, or not enough, but he never managed to say things the way he wanted to. "Fuck." That, at least, came out with feeling.
Tony quickly stepped up close and grabbed one of Loki's hands before she could do the expected thing and flee. The bond flared to life in full colour, and Tony got stabbed at again by the hurt he didn't quite understand, and by the mix of surprise and suspicion that was mirrored by her eyebrows.
"Just. Wait and let me explain? You know I'm not good at the whole talking thing. Just hear me out before you jump to conclusions? 'Cause I don't think you're thinking what I'm thinking."
It took Loki a long time to respond, her eyes jumping from left to right into his own pupils, as if looking closer would tell her anything different than what the bond was telling her. He wasn't lying or anything. He was just… Well, the whole problem was that he hadn't said much at all.
How to begin to explain, though. He had no idea himself what he was thinking, exactly. He just knew that, this? This was just not it. But saying that would not be helpful at all. Before he knew it Tony was pacing. At least Loki had opted not to move.
"Well?" God, her voice made shivers run down his spine, it was just the perfect mix between huskily sexy and haughtily dismissive. He should like it, it was totally his thing.
Tony faced his soulmate, now a gorgeous blue female, and the words almost died on his lips. But it still just wasn't right. "So. Uhm. What I meant was… And I mean…" He took a deep breath. Held it. Let's try again. "You're gorgeous as a woman, really, you are. If I'm gonna be honest, which, I guess I'd better be, you're totally my type right now." Loki huffed and looked away. "A tad tall," he conceded. Damn the bond. He wasn't lying! At least his soulmate seemed to accept the amendment.
"But. I mean. You don't want—" Tony flailed his arm, designating all of her. "You don't want this. You said so yourself. You said you didn't feel quite right as a female. You said you considered yourself male. Why? What made you decide to transform?"
Loki's painted lips pinched together. "You are not explaining anything. You are deflecting and trying to—"
"God damn it, dude, that's not what I'm doing! I'm trying to understand! And I'm trying to be sensitive here! What, do you want me to say that seeing you as a woman just feels totally wrong? That it doesn't make sense, and that it doesn't matter how pretty you are like this, I want to see the real you, the you you want to be? Aren't I fucked up? I'm the one wishing you were a woman from the start, and now that you are, I want you back to normal. Is that what you want to hear?"
A frightening blankness invaded the bond for the long seconds that Loki looked at him with lips parted, as if stuck mid-word. At least the cold mist had stopped evaporating from her frosted dress. That had to mean something, right? Come on, Tony just wanted some kind of reaction here, just proof he hadn't broken his soulmate once again.
And then the floodgates opened and so many emotions poured in Tony had no idea what was what. The only thing he did know was that at least there were emotions to be sensed. At least Loki wasn't grabbing him by the collar or cursing him out or crying or something. But, well. Silently stalking over to the walk-in and banging the door shut behind her… That couldn't be good, could it?
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Loki leaned against the doors, forehead against the slit where they joined seamlessly. He'd caught a glimpse of his female form, blue as the day he was born, and he didn't want to see it. See the person he could have been if he'd grown up differently.
"J.A.R.V.," came Tony's voice from somewhere on the other side of the room. "On a score from one to ten, how much of an arsehole was I just now? I feel like it was bad, but I can't pinpoint how bad?"
"Do you really want me to answer that, Sir?"
"Yeah, no, you're right, I don't." There was a pause, and a sigh. "I guess I should go check on the Mark V then. It's just a bit of soldering, right?"
"Sir, Butterfingers can take care of it, you shouldn't—"
"I need to do something, J.A.R.V.. Besides, if I fuck up my clothes, I've got loads more."
Loki only stepped away from the door when he felt Tony reach the elevator. Did Tony think he was upset? Loki frowned. Was he upset? He did not think so. It was hard to tell what he was feeling, exactly. It was all so confusing. He did not like being in this shape, and yet he had wanted Tony to like it. He had transformed for his soulmate's sake, after all.
Yes, he had been upset when he had been so blatantly rejected, almost instantly might he add. However Tony's explanation, if one could call it that, had more than made up for it in the end. Tony preferred to see him in his male form. The true reason behind that statement was still unclear. Did Tony only wish for him to be male because he knew it was what Loki himself wished? Or did Tony genuinely prefer to see his male form? Tony had not lied when he said he wanted him 'back to normal', however he had not explicitly stated why, exactly, that was.
One thing was certain, though. Tony did not want Loki to accompany him as a female, which meant Loki could go as himself. The relief alone would have been enough to calm him if indeed he had been upset right now. He certainly was not. In truth, he was glad, albeit cautious. He would not have to be female to have a chance with Tony, it would seem. Though of course he should not get his hopes up. Rejecting his female form was one thing; accepting his male form was quite another. It might take Tony years to see Loki as desirable enough to overcome his preconceptions about his own proclivities.
If Loki had learned one thing from his visits to other worlds, it was that nurture more than nature guided the matters of the heart. In places rife with repression such as Asgard, many an Áss did not know they could fall for another male, because they refused to leave the mould of society. Only free spirits realised that the physical was, in the end, inconsequential. What truly matters is the soul. And in his and Tony's case, all the more so. Their soul was literally one. They could not be less made for each other. The only thing stopping them, truly, was the lives they had led so far and the scars they bore because of it.
Loki decided to allow himself a sliver of hope; if Tony preferred him in his male form even when he had seen the female alternative, then one day he might overcome his preconceptions. After all, while it was unfortunate that Tony still believed that his thoughts of Loki were all 'nudged' by their soul bond, the fact remained that he was at least somewhat attracted to Loki when male.
Loki quickly shed the attire he had borrowed from Miss Potts' closet – it was quite a relief to get rid of his soulmate's former lover's clothes. When he asked, J.A.R.V.I.S. kindly led him to the formal clothing options that had been prepared for him. The Artificial Intelligence had not in any way commented on Loki's transformation, on the fact that he had apparently asked for a magical source to use it for something so trivial, nor on the fact that he had taken clothes that were not his to have. It was rather a relief not to be judged – not openly, at any rate. While he was glad Tony did not fully appreciate his female form, he did feel a lingering embarrassment at having been caught in such a vulnerable position; both presenting himself in a form he did not feel comfortable in and being vehemently rejected did have its sting regardless of the end result.
Loki finally faced the mirror. Shape-shifting was always easier when one could see the change and adapt to it. Though since he was going back to his initial form it should not be as hard. He could not stop his eyes from sweeping over his female shape. It was strange to see; a shape still perfectly Æsir, Vanir or human-like, but the colouring of the Jötnar. It was an aberration. Something that did not exist in this universe, except through his inability to keep his shape in check. He closed his eyes and willed the colour away.
To his surprise, his skin listened and lightened up to a creamy shade, before reverting back to blue. He shook his head; of course he would be able to change it. This was not the same as when he reverted to his Jötunn skin when he was his usual self. In those moments, more than his colouration changed – his organs followed, and he truly became Jötunn. It was shapeshifting, except it had never felt like shapeshifting. Perhaps because it was not of his own will. Perhaps because it was tinted with ice-magic when the transformations occurred. And reverting back to his own Áss shape never felt like proper shapeshifting either – it was more like a coming home to himself. This blue on his female form was a facsimile, his body telling him he did not have the energy to go around shapeshifting as he pleased. Even if he chose an animal form, his vivid, ridged Jötunn skin would probably make a reappearance too. As long as his magical core was so empty that his innate ice-magic wanted to defend him against the world, he was at risk of it interfering.
Time to get back to his own self. After a careful minute of weaving he pulled the stone out of thin air and gripped it. He concentrated on his bond with Tony to keep him grounded, and only allowed himself a trickle of the tremendous, electrifying power to flow up his arm. The hardest part, when he had his own shape again, was to banish the stone back to his pocket. Not because of a lack of magic to do so, but rather the opposite. So much power, such ancient power, such legendary power, right there in his hand. The feeling of it and the knowledge of it was intoxicating.
Maybe he should keep it after tonight.
No. No, he was playing a dangerous game here. Thanos was after the stones. He couldn't put himself, and more importantly, Tony, in the line of fire. No, let Odin take the brunt of the inevitable assault of the Mad Titan. Even though he was certainly loathe to hand an Infinity Stone over the the Allfather. Another one, that is.
He picked an outfit, and after a quick tour to the bathroom to remove the sections of make-up that clashed with his blue skin tone, he headed down to the penthouse's main floor where he could feel his soulmate's presence.
XXXxxxXXXxxxXXXxxxXXXxxxXXX
J.A.R.V.I.S. hadn't allowed the elevator to go any lower than the main floor, the bastard, so Tony had no choice but to stand mere inches from the glass and look out at the city. Or stand near the bar, keeping his hands firmly in his pockets. Or stand next to the grand piano, checking the varnish for dust. Or stand—
"Stop pacing, will you? You're making me nervous."
Tony turned away from the plant whose leaves he was fingering and looked Bruce over. "I'm making you nervous? You were already like that before I came in." Bruce had been staring at his hands while he picked at his fingernails, knee jerking up and down, brow glistening with sweat. Now one eye was twitching, too.
"Exactly! I already don't feel good about the gala—"
"That makes two of us."
"— and you're making it worse with your pacing so sit down. Please. Tony."
Tony huffed and went to sit on the opposite sofa. He crossed his legs. Crossed his arms. Bad plan, that pulled on the bespoke suit a tad too much at the shoulders. Fine. He took out his phone instead. Maybe he should check his emails. Or not, there was one with the subject 'Stark Gala' and he was definitely not going to open that. Whatever it was he didn't want to know. So, not emails. He needed some other kind of distraction—
"Thank God," he muttered when Clint walked in.
Without a word Clint went to sit next to Bruce and frowned at Tony. "What's with you?"
Sure, Tony loved to talk about himself like any other Stark, but right now, no thanks. He needed a distraction from himself. And from the bright little star at the back of his mind that told him Loki still hadn't left their room. And from the feelings that had been bombarding him and that made no sense whatsoever without proper context. What was with the relief followed by embarrassment? He was imagining strange scenarios in which those things went together, and he very much wanted not to think about it.
"You brush up nice for a hawk. You could have done something about the unibrow, though."
"I don't have a unibrow."
"Ah, so you pluck it, then?" Clint frowned some more. Proof that it was true. Clint's eyebrows were well kempt. Also, he was definitely wearing make-up. That was… what was that called again? Edging? Oh, contour, maybe?
"Is that a gala requirement?"
Now it was Tony's turn to frown as he looked at Bruce. What was he— He was touching his eyebrows. Right. "No, Brucey. You shouldn't change your eyebrows one bit. Bushy is great. It goes with the whole wild beast vibe. The girls will love it."
"Wild beast?" He looked even more worried now, and Tony felt a bit guilty.
"Do not listen to him. Tony obviously has never truly met a wild beast to make such a faulty assertion."
Well, at least teasing Clint had been a marvellous distraction indeed. Tony hadn't noticed Loki's approach at all. Which was a shame, because he must have made quite the entrance, coming down the steps looking all alien and regal.
"A tunic, huh? Where'd you get that? No, never mind, it suits you. You're a tunic person anyway, aren't you? It's what you were wearing when you… arrived on Earth."
"I'll let you know that my Asgardian armour is not a tunic, it's a fine Asgardian leather—"
"Yes, yes, I'm sure it's great," Tony cut him off with a wave, "but today you're in fine human clothes. And you look fine, by the way." He didn't know where J.A.R.V.I.S. got this kind of formal-wear from – it looked like the kind of thing you'd expect on a Star Trek set, forest green, sleeveless, with a collar and waterfall pattern of squares running down the left side in black leather. The pants looked like regular black dress pants, as did the shoes. On someone else the look wouldn't have looked gala appropriate at all, but on Loki, especially in blue… Alien prince was spelled all over him. He'd kept the same hairdo as he'd had earlier as a woman – God that was still weird, Loki definitely looked better just as he was now – and it suited him very well, the braided half-updo. And… From here it was hard to tell for sure, but… He might still be wearing that eyeshadow? "And by fine I mean fine."
"He means you look pretty," Natasha said as she sauntered in, needle-thin heels stabbing the marble and a floor-length, satiny black dress with a side slit that went high, so high up her thigh. Tony glanced over at Clint. Tss, the man wasn't even batting an eye at the way his girlfriend looked. These S.H.I.E.L.D. minions, they were no fun at all.
Bruce, on the other hand, appeared to be gaping. And blushing. And quickly looking away when Natasha sauntered over to sit on the sofa's arm next to Clint. Wait. Was Bruce— No. Way. Jose. A love triangle! Right here in his tower! Oh, this was going to be gold!
"If you're all ready," Phil said loudly from next to the elevator, "let's get this show on the road." Next to him stood Rhodey, and a very red-in-the-face Captain America was tugging on the perfectly well-fitted sleeves of his bespoke tuxedo. What was it with blushing people today? "You'll probably be disappointed, Stark, but S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't do fashionably late—"
"Since when?" said Tony with a snort.
"—so up you all get. The cars are waiting."
Everyone started to pile into the elevator, but Tony hung back next to Bruce who still looked very uncomfortable, twitchy and looking at his shoes more than anything else. The bond felt tense too, and while nothing showed in Loki's demeanour, there was no doubt he was looking forward to the gala as much as Tony was.
Tony held Bruce back by his sleeve. "We'll take the next one."
Phil frowned. "Don't be ridiculous Stark, there's enough space for everyone."
"Yes, but I need to pop down to my workshop for my emergency suit, and Bruce still hasn't seen the place so it's the perfect excuse to have him get a peek at it."
"Stark—"
"Don't worry, we won't geek out or anything. Just in and out. No science, I promise. Loki can keep an eye on the time, won't you Lokes?"
"As if! He doesn't even have a watch!" Clint said with an eye-roll.
"I am quite familiar with the notion of time without the need of mechanical contraptions."
Tony clapped his hands once. "Children! Let's stop fighting and start moving, yeah? We need that elevator so if you'd please head down now?"
"You could also come inside and we will all 'pop down' with you," Coulson said, crossing his arms.
"Ha! You'd like that! I'm not letting you just stroll into my wor—"
"Enough!" Heavy silence followed Steve's barked out word. "Deputy Director, this would be resolved so much quicker if you'd just let Tony have his way. Doctor Banner is with them. He'll make sure they don't delay."
"There's no use arguing with Tony when he gets like that," Rhodey confirmed.
"Fine." With one last glare, Phil stabbed a button and the doors closed.
The silence didn't last long. "J.A.R.V.', you could just have sent them down from the get-go."
"Where would be the fun in that, Sir?"
"You're such a bastard."
"Thank you, Sir. If I may return the compliment."
Tony tried to keep his face neutral, but the smile tugged at his face with such persistence, it would be a shame not to let it show. Damn his clever, catty boy.
The elevator came back with a loud, obnoxious little ding. The moment the doors closed on them Tony did what he'd been dying to do since his realisation earlier. He turned to Bruce.
"So, I hear you've got a thing for spider ladies?"
Bruce side-eyed him. "Are you saying you don't think Nat is pretty?"
"Oh, so it's Nat now, is it?
"Fuck off, Tony." Ha, so he'd hit the nail on the head indeed.
Tony patted him on the shoulder. "Oh, come on, can't we even tease each other between science bros?"
The doors opened onto his workshop and Bruce immediately got out. "We're not 'science bros'. We barely did any science together. It was more of a I do my thing and you do your thing kind of thing."
"You wound me! I did invite you to use my mad scientist lab. And you and I are the only one who do science here. So we're science bros by default." Bruce turned to him, arms crossed. His gaze kept flitting around, though. He couldn't keep his eyes off Tony's awesome tech – not a science bro, his arse. "You're the only one who understands me when I talk, Brucey, don't be like that."
Tony couldn't see Loki's face given that he was behind him, but the transference made it loud and clear that one eyebrow had gone way up. The stab of hurt from the bond was unexpected too, and was that a tint of jealousy? He needed to watch his words. How many times did he need to remind himself that Loki was insanely sensitive to the bullshit that came out of his mouth? Tony turned to his soulmate with a grin that probably didn't look as forced as it felt.
"Don't worry, Lo, you'll understand me when I talk soon too. You can join the science bro club when you're done with culture shock, you're clever like that. And anyway, we're already awesome magic bros, aren't we? Well, you're like a bonfire and I'm like one tiny ember when it comes to mana, but it's better than anyone else around, right? That warrants a cool title."
Blue poker face, but the bond smoothed over with a balm of warmth. "Were you not here to collect your armour?"
"Yes, fine! You're such a party-pooper."
That put a proper frown on Loki's face, and he even silently mouthed the words. Tony swallowed his smile and went to grab the suitcase that stood upright on the worktable next to Butterfingers. The bot saluted with a mournful beep when he passed, and he patted it on the hand-head before jogging to the elevator where the others waited.
The lobby was empty when they reached it, but the pavement outside was not. Phil was right outside the glass doors, and if he hadn't been such an uptight agent he would have been tapping his foot. His face translated his impatience quite well without it, though.
"That guided tour took you long enough."
"Hey, I neither guided nor toured! It was more like… an argument."
"As in, you argued at people?"
"I resent that. I choose my people to be competent enough to argue with me."
Phil was two milliseconds away from rolling his eyes, Tony could feel it. "That's enough arguing for me—"
"I never said you were one of the people I chose."
"Stark. Shut up and get in the car."
Tony eyed the four cars parked on the curb. The two on the outskirts were surrounded by four S.H.I.E.L.D. agents each, so he surmised the middle two were meant to be Avengers transport. Those black super conspicuous 'nondescript' vans. "Yeah, no way in Hell. I only have one designated driver, and that's Happy. Also, I don't like getting into other people's cars. I have a thing where I get flashbacks to either being abducted or being shot at, so I prefer to travel in cars that are Stark secure. And classy. But thanks, though."
Tony grabbed Loki by the hand and dragged him towards the side street. "Stark, get your arse back here!" Deputy Director Coulson shouted after him, and he sent a middle finger over his shoulder without a backwards glance, like cool arseholes did in every other movie. And if there was one thing Tony Stark always was, was cool. And sometimes he was an arsehole. When he wanted to be. Or when he was being an idiot. Okay, so a lot of the time actually, but he was trying to be better. Old habits die hard is all.
The limo was waiting just round the corner, and Happy stepped out to come open the door for them. "Boss," he said with a nod and a faint smile. "And… Plus one?" Bless the man for trying to act like this kind of thing happened every other weekend. Though to be fair he had witnessed a fair few things at the height of Tony's playboy days.
"This is Loki."
"He's blue."
"Don't be rude. Don't you know it's rude to comment on someone's skin colour?"
"Sorry, Boss." Now Tony kind of felt bad – that had come out much more serious than he'd wanted. Not that it wasn't a serious subject, but…
"You have commented on my skin more often than most, Tony."
Touché. "But I'm me, that's different. And besides, I'm not so much commenting as I am complimenting your skin," Tony said with an obnoxious waggle of his eyebrows in the hopes of diffusing this growingly tricky conversation. Loki snorted – mission accomplished!
Tony gestured at Loki to get in first, handed his armour to Happy and followed his soulmate in. He expected Happy to close the door, but nothing happened. He leaned forward until he could see Happy's face – spaced out with a frown. "Earth to Happy!"
"Oh. Sorry, Boss."
Once Happy was at the wheel and the car started, Tony relaxed back into his seat. This part he knew well. The drive, either chatting with Happy or listening to music while he worked on his phone, and nursing a drink. None of that today, it would seem. Happy was silent, there was no music, Tony wasn't in the mood to tweak one of his projects, and there was no need to get the party started beforehand no matter how much he ached to. He had an alien to watch out for tonight.
Still, though, Happy's silence was too silent, unusual and unnerving. And Loki was looking out the window, clearly turned away from Tony in a way that spelled 'don't talk to me', and Tony could feel the tension and nerves coming off of him in waves. He should take care of the Happy problem first. Really, he should. Really—
"Happy." Oh, good, his voice was taking the right initiative for once.
"Yes, Boss."
"You're very silent tonight. Something on your mind?" Which, really, what a question. He had a blue alien in his car, and Happy probably didn't know Loki was his soulmate. Happy would only have seen the pictures and the crazy headlines. The awkwardness was Tony's fault. He should have sent the man a text or something.
"It's just, well. I don't want to be rude or anything, but, Boss. I'm a bit confused, I mean. He… Uhm, Mister Loki, he's really, like, really your soulmate?"
Wait, what? "How do you know that?"
"Miss Pep— Miss Potts told me? I wasn't sure if she was off her rocke— Uhm, if she was mistaken. I mean, she was kind of crying and you know how that makes things hard to hear on the phone…"
"When was this?"
"Oh, a while back. She said something about you just breaking up with her."
"What? I broke up with her? Now, that's rich! She was the one who—" Tony's voice died in his throat when he felt the icy stare coming from his right. At least the car wasn't actually icing up. Progress, right? "I mean. It was a mutual thing. When certain… circumstances led to a conversation that showed things weren't working out between us the way I thought they were. Anyway. We broke up. End of story."
"So it's true, then?"
It took Tony a second to realise Happy wasn't talking about the break-up anymore. "Ah, yes, of course. Loki is my soulmate. And soulmates are a real, actual, tangible thing. With like, souls becoming one and all that. Without the instant romance crap attached, though. But yes, it's true."
Happy nodded. "I guess with the whole aliens being true too, I should have figured."
Bless him, he was so good at taking things in stride. It's what he'd always loved about the man. So pragmatic, and so unjudgmental. He'd never said a word about Tony's playboy ways, or his drinking. Okay, so maybe Happy had commented on it a couple of times, but in a very respectable way. He was a good employee, and a good man in general.
Now that the Happy problem was solved… Tony turned to Loki. Who was looking out the window again, this time even more standoffishly than before. One hand was flat on his thigh, in a way that would look natural if it wasn't actually pressing down so much on the tunic-y outfit, and the other was in his trouser pocket, fingers slowly moving within, perhaps drumming against his leg.
"Are you nervous?"
The answer was immediate. "No."
The twang that told Tony it was a blatant lie was immediate too. "I can see that." That, at least, got Loki to look at him, though he could have done without the crimson glare. "Aren't you used to balls and attention from every corner of the room, being a prince and all?"
"Does that mean I have to look forward to said attention? Besides, it won't be admiration and envy that will be aimed at me tonight."
"I wouldn't be so sure about that. You'll gather a lot of admiration because, well. You look exotic and alien. Which technically you are. People can't help themselves. And you'll get envy, all right. You're my plus one. Everyone wants to be Tony Stark's plus one, darling. You should be thrilled!" Tony said with a smirk.
"Delighted," was Loki's Jötunn-icy response.
Silence stretched again after that, and the fingers in Loki's pocket moved faster. This really wouldn't do. Tony grabbed his soulmate's wrist and pulled the hand out – he even thought for a second he saw a glint of something. If his wizard was making sparks, this really was more stressful for Loki than he'd thought. Loki was looking at him with open shock on his face, too, as if Tony holding his hand was anything new. Now that Tony could openly feel the tension thrown at him at full force by the bond, he made sure to send calming vibes back. As far as he could manage calming vibes, that was. It wasn't like he wasn't nervous himself, what with Pepper front and centre at the gala.
The car slowed down, joining the queue crawling towards the venue's entrance. "Are we here before or after the cavalry?"
J.A.R.V.I.S. was the one who answered through the car's loudspeakers. "If you are referring to the other Avengers, Sir, then they arrived a couple of minutes ago."
"Happy, you lost the race against S.H.I.E.L.D?"
"Sorry, Boss. I didn't know it was a race?"
"Whatever." The car stopped. "All right, Lokes, you'll be getting out first. Ready to be blinded by the cameras? No? Well, tough luck." The door opened, the flashes started, Tony let go of his hand and Loki growled.
So, not exactly at the gala but on the threshold. That counts, right? How many of you had predicted female-Loki to make an appearance?
Now, as for the Loki TV series that I expect everyone to have seen by now. (Caution, SPOILERS AHEAD). I need my rant. I haven't been able to vent at anyone and it's been gnawing at me. Feel free to respond in the comments with your thoughts.
I loved the series, I did, but also… The whole Loki/Sylvie thing, just no. I mean, I understand they want it to be a whole sign of self-love thing, but my goodness did it give me the heebie-jeebies. It felt like incest to me – worse than Thorki because at least then you can say 'he's adopted'. I mean, what is a variant if not in some shape or form the same person? If it isn't the same DNA that they share – I mean, alligator? – and it isn't their mind – sure they have similarities but they are definitely all very different people still – then that leaves us with the soul. That's what makes the most sense to me anyway. And so two people of the same soul, together (and I mean that in the classical sense, not in the special rules of souls I made up for my fanfic) just feels like another form of incest to me.
On another note, though, Classic Loki! Only a very short appearance, but boy did I love him! I never read any of the comics, but to me there was always something wrong with the way Loki was portrayed in the films – always failing, always coming up with plans that weren't as clever as they should be because Loki is supposed to be a genius damn it – and Classic Loki, despite his terrible wardrobe choices, just sounded exactly right to me. Like, exactly the kind of personality I'd been wanting to see all along even though I can't explain why that is. So sad he had to leave so soon.
Anyway, I'll stop here. I'm not getting into the Loki/Mobius debate, because I haven't made my mind up yet about it. (I've only ever been for FrostIron to be fair, so it's hard to wrap my head around it).
Spread the Luv!
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