I bet this will give you all a Halloween fright... an actual update from me. :O

My deepest apologies... life upheavals tend to make updating difficult. They were good upheavals, but still... wow. I never thought the gap would run this long. As an apology, accept three chapters from me?

And as I am now one uni degree up and one job down, I think I'll finally have enough time to devote myself to this again. Yay! And a thousand thanks to those still reading 3

Also, fair warning: FrostIron ahead.

Enjoy!


Well, at least they survived. Sure, they were escaping on the back of a meat-eating firebreather, but they'd escaped – that was the important thing.

And, to top it all off, they'd actually gotten what they'd came for, and no one had even died in the attempt. They'd managed to fight off goblins and wizards alike on a half-blind dragon, who was currently showing its heroics by flying quickly with a burden that looked altogether too large on its back.

The downside, of course, was that it was a dragon and therefore unsteerable. It sped across the sky at a panicked pace, clearly keen on nothing besides putting as much distance between itself and its prison as possible. Still, dragon adrenaline (or whatever it was) could only sustain it for so long. Tony watched as the forest beneath them began to grow larger. The dragon, whether from fatigue or by choice, was rapidly losing height. But Tony guessed fatigue, for the dragon seemed none too happy as it roared and snapped at the air, its teeth coming altogether too close to Thor's head.

"That's our station, guys," Tony said through the comlink. "Time to disembark."

"And how to you suppose we do that?" Clint roared. He was clinging to one of the spikes of the dragon's tail and did not look very pleased.

"How comfortable are you with skydiving?"

It wasn't Tony's first choice, but he didn't really see another option. He would have preferred to just coast in and pick them off one by one, but the dragon had made it painfully clear that it did not like the sound of Tony's repulsors. Toward the beginning of their flight, Tony had casually flown a little close to the dragon's flank – with a piercing shriek the dragon rolled away from the noise – but its roar was drowned by the chorus of screams that echoed from its back.

So no flying too close, then.

So what choice did that leave? Tony didn't particularly want to be the only thing standing between the Avengers and a splatter on the ground, but he didn't see any other options. Besides, if something went terribly wrong somehow – he really hoped it didn't – Thor could probably do some saving with his hammer, or maybe Loki would deign to use his mysterious magic and save their asses. The wizards could probably do something as well, but they hadn't offered much brilliant advice. Harry was silent, Hermione looked close to fainting, and Ron was busy swearing at the top his voice. Not very helpful, in other words.

So that left base jumping. As the dragon continued to drop and the ground came closer, everyone grudgingly agreed with the plan. The dragon could still see somewhat, and it could most definitely breathe fire. No one wanted to be on or around the dragon once it could move around properly.

Steve, in his typical lead-by-example role, jumped first. Tony caught him easily and dropped him at the edge of the forest. He looked rather green, but otherwise okay. So long as Bruce wasn't the one looking green, Tony wasn't concerned.

One by one the Avengers and wizards dropped. His left repulsor was flaring up a little – it had taken a hit on the last little barrage in Gringotts – but it wasn't like suit malfunctions were new to him. He knew how to manage. Everyone landed safely – everyone except for the gods. Thor refused any help of Tony's and coasted down himself with his hammer. Loki simply grinned and disappeared in a flash of green light, but Tony did not see him reappear.

Whatever. They'd find him later. He landed with the rest, but turned to watch the dragon come in for a landing on a flat plane, far from the edge of the forest where they stood. It dunked its head in the stream immediately, but was soon distracted by a flare of green light.

Tony didn't need JARVIS's confirmation to know it was Loki. He had no idea what the god was up to this time – he was so far out that not even the zoom could bring him into close focus. Whatever he was doing, however, was not to the dragon's liking. An earsplitting roar pierced the air, and a gout of fire billowed around where Loki had been standing – but, as was becoming custom for him, the god suddenly reappared within the knot of Avengers as though he'd been standing there the whole time.

Tony studiously ignored him and turned back to the dragon. It was waving its head from side to side, probably wondering where the hell its tormentor had gone. Then, with another bellowing roar, it spread its wings and took to the sky. Thankfully it flew in the opposite direction as the Avengers, and soon it was over the horizon and out of sight.

"Mind explaining what the hell you did there?" Tony asked as Hermione started doling out dittany for everyone who'd gotten burned by the cursed treasure.

"It may rest easy on your conscience to allow a disabled dragon to roam free," Loki said condescendingly, "but I do not share that view."

Tony looked from the god, to the horizon where the dragon had disappeared, then back at the god. Well, that explained the self-satisfied grin.

"What are you, a dragon veterinarian? You gave it its sight back?" Tony said incredulously. Another surprise. Now Harry's magic, Tony could understand. Say a spell, get a blast of magic. Simple. There also seemed to be pretty definite barriers to what they could and could not do. Loki, clearly, did not have those limitations. And part of that freedom apparently included the ability to heal a dragon's eyes when situation called – without getting burned to a crisp in the process.

Loki just grinned wider. "Did you not hear me clearly, Stark?" He said, his tone questioning Tony's intelligence. "Or is there another way my sentence could be construed?"

"Is 'yes' that hard of an answer to give?" Tony retorted.

"Evidently, or I would have given it." Loki replied.

Their conversation was interrupted by Natasha marching between them. "Quit flirting, you two. We need to figure out the next step here."

Tony realized belatedly that the rest of the group had been carrying on a conversation without them. Tony tore his gaze away from the god and quickly followed the small assassin back to the middle of the group.

There wasn't much of a conversation. The whole deal was who was to go to the jet to take it back, and who was to beam directly back to the mansion. Tony was firmly in the 'mansion' group – he'd had his fill of action for the day, and was itching to get to work on improvements on the runes. Sure, they'd held their own, but Tony was not one for mere competence. If it was going to be made by Tony Stark, then it was going to be the best damn thing the world had. Anything less just didn't cut it. And these runes, clearly, did not cut it.

"Do you think the dragon will be okay, though?" Hermione said worriedly as everyone paired up for Apparition.

"It's a dragon, Hermione. It can take care of itself," Ron said. "It's us you need to worry about."

"Us? Why?"

"Well, I don't know how to break this to you, but they might have noticed we broke into Gringotts."

For some reason, the wizards found this statement enormously funny, and burst out laughing. The Avengers joined in, though Tony wasn't sure whether they were laughing with them, or at them. But, as was becoming custom with the wizards, Harry soon broke up the good time with one of his 'episodes' – dropping Natasha's arm, Harry fell to his knees, clutching his scar. Though he made no sound, he was clearly in incredible pain. Everyone took a step forward to help, but Hermione shook her head sadly. "There's nothing you can do," She said.

Tony glanced sideways at Loki. The god was already looking at him.

"This is not an injury, Stark," Loki said before Tony could utter a single word. "Or rather, not an injury of the flesh. There is no relief for pain inflicted within the mind" He said, his tone turning bitter at the end.

"Well, there's a scar," Tony pointed out.

"Inflicted with a curse, not a sword," Loki said. "There is a difference when healing comes into play."

So blind, hacked-up dragons were within his boundaries to heal, but apparently not curses. How interesting. Maybe it gave an explanation as to why he'd been so helpless after his run-in with Voldy... or maybe he just couldn't heal himself for whatever reason. More questions to ask once they were back on safe ground.

Steve hefted his shield and cocked his gun, causing both Tony and Loki to turn, but he paid no attention to either of them. "We should have Apparated when we had the chance," Steve said uneasily. "I have a bad feeling about this."

"They were the ones laughing, not us," Clint said.

Finally, it was over, and Harry shakily assumed a sitting position. His expression was grave, all signs of good humor gone. "He knows," The wizard said, his voice cracked.

"He knows?" Steve repeated worriedly.

"He knows who you are. He's going to try to find you."

"He knows? What do you mean he knows?" Clint cried out. "You mean to tell me that Voldemort –"

"NO!" Chorused the wizards, but the damage was done. With a series of sharp cracks, 8 hooded figures appeared and surrounded the forest's edge.

Immediately jets of light filled the air, four speeding right towards Tony. A pair of quick repulsor blasts deflected two, but the rest got past his guard and hit him squarely on the chest. He watched on his viewscreen as the last of his runic protection flickered and died.

The battle hadn't even officially started and he was out of magical protection. How typical.

He quickly glanced around, his repulsors primed and ready for another onslaught. Harry, in his vulnerable position, had been Stunned, but everyone else seemed all right.

"Put your wands up!" One of the Death Eaters called confidently, smirking – clearly he had no idea what he was up against. "We've got you surrounded and don't care who we –"

Natasha shot him first.

These wizards were hardly the well-trained, militant sort Tony was used to – one shot of a gun and they panicked, scattering and wildly shooting off spells. Tony revised his opinion of them as he watched them dissolve – they seemed much too inept to be Death Eaters. Considering how they had been summoned, maybe these were the Snatchers Harry had spoken of – the random evil folk who roamed about, finding people who said You-Know-Who's name in exchange for coin. So basically wands-for-hire, not strategically-placed Death Eaters ready to catch the thieves from Gringotts.

Then again, the Death Eaters probably hadn't expected the thieves to be so stupid as to say Voldy's name.

Still, though their initial barrage had been Stunners, their panic had broadened their spell horizons. Multicolored beams of light now arched about the clearing, some gouging deep furrows in the ground, others spraying gouts of flame. But JARVIS did not report a single green laser in the fray. So though they could still burn to death or get hacked in half, at least they wouldn't die in one shot.

Although, considering the options, immediate death actually sounded preferable.

But these were a bunch of hired hands against trained assassins. This battle, they wouldn't lose.

In the time it took for Tony to dispatch a single Snatcher, Natasha and Clint had felled two more and Thor was in the process of smashing another into the ground with his hammer. Bruce, his Hulk unneeded, was watching with interest from behind a tree. Steve was trading shots with an absolute brute of a man, Hermione was dueling with another, and Loki was… well, being Loki. He was fighting with a Snatcher, but 'fighting' was in the loosest sense of the word. Rather, the man was throwing spell after spell at the god of mischief, whereas Loki was simply absorbing the spells with his scepter, taunting the man with every spell he blocked.

Well, Voldy had wiped the floor with Loki last time. Clearly he needed a little practice dealing with the wizard's particular brand of magic. And, judging by his lack of injuries and the furiousness of his attacker, he was getting better. About time – he was a god, for crying out loud. What was the point of being a deity if you couldn't even defend yourself against a mortal sorcerer?

As Tony angled himself to rid Hermione of her Snatcher, things started to turn south. With a strangled yell, Tony looked up to see Clint engulfed in smoke. One of the fiery bolts of light had hit him on the back - it had consumed the back of his vest in seconds, and was quickly spreading.

Tony took to the air to help, but Thor was closer. Confidently grabbing the flaming archer, the thunder god hoisted him over his head and headed for the ravine. Since he couldn't play hero, Tony settled for enjoying the show as he deflected two bolts headed for Clint and his savior.

Thor unceremoniously dumped the archer in the creek, pushing the spluttering Clint back down to make sure all the fire was out. Steve appeared out of nowhere and cried out, pointing at Thor's arm – a small ember had caught on his sleeve. Tony was rather looking forward to watching the good Captain shove Thor into the stream – but the god waved away Steve's concern and casually patted the flame out.

So apparently gods were fireproof too. Huh. Who knew.

"Stark!" The cry came from nowhere, just as the bolt did. A cold, ripping sensation slashed across his chest, along with the sound of screeching metal. His HUD flickered and went dark as he landed unsteadily on the ground. He was felt strangely dizzy, unfocused.

It was the damn mansion all over again… how often would he say it? This time, at least, his arc reactor was still functioning, but that didn't mean he couldn't die by various other means.

Then his conscious train of thought vanished as the agony hit. White-hot pain lanced down his side, tracing from his ribs to his hip. He fell to his knees as blood painted his suit a brighter red.

He was aware of Steve on one side and Bruce on the other, saying something he could not hear. He looked up, to tell them to get the hell out of the line of fire – and he saw Loki behind the Snatcher, his scepter glowing green. With a brutal slash of his scepter, the spell-happy man met a bloody end.

"He couldn't have done that earlier?" Tony muttered. His mind felt foggy and clouded. Big surprise. With difficulty, he looked up at Steve and said, "Mind getting a wizard to patch me up?"

"That won't be necessary." Loki had appeared at his side, having apparently shouldered Bruce out of the way. He already had his hand around Tony's arm, but Steve caught the god before he could pull Tony up. His expression was full of distrust.

The world was staring to warp a little around the edges for Tony, but Loki's expression was so different than normal that even he noticed. "Calmly, Soldier," The god said, his expression serious, without at trace of his characteristic grin. "I mean him no harm."

Steve looked conflicted – but he did not drop his arm. In his pain-muddled state, Tony decided Steve needed a little nudge. Raising his arm, he knocked Steve's arm away from Loki's. "It's fine, buddy," Tony managed to say. "If he was going to kill me, why would he do it now? Not nearly enough glory."

Steve hesitated, then gave a cautious nod – that was more than enough for Loki, who swooped down and hauled Tony to his feet in a single motion. More blood dripped to the grass as Tony swayed. Loki then wrapped his arm securely around the blood-smeared suit, and the world was suddenly enveloped in emerald green light. Though he could not see, he distinctly heard Natasha hissing, "How thickheaded are you? If he'd wanted to kill him, he would have just let him die, idiot!" But then a fierce wind picked up, drowning out her words. A pity – Natasha snapping at anyone was always a good listen, but to hear her chewing out the Captain was just priceless.

The emerald glow disappeared as suddenly as it had come, and they were standing in a stretch of unfamiliar forest, filled with trees but entirely empty of Avengers and wizards.

Tony was going to make a snarky comment, but his body had other ideas and he toppled to the ground instead. Frustrated, he rearranged himself in a slightly more noble manner, feeling disgruntled. Here he was, bleeding to death from some stupid spell because he'd been distracted by Clint and Thor the fireproof wonder. And here was Loki, coming to the rescue once again. There was so much wrong with that picture.

Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was aware of the fact that he might be dying, but he couldn't make himself get too worked up over that fact. Maybe that, in and of itself, was extremely worrying, but Tony just didn't – or couldn't – care.

He peered at the god of mischief. Shock helped knock him back to his senses slightly – instead of vengeful or spiteful or evil, Loki looked… worried.

He watched as the god approached him, scepter in hand. The golden rod was still dripping blood as he lowered it towards Tony. "I don't think that's sanitary," Tony mused as the god kneeled beside him.

"Best speak when your senses are about you," Loki advised. "Now is not that time." His voice, however, was too strained to sound sarcastic.

Before Tony could consider the implications – or consider anything, for that matter – Loki placed his scepter underneath the damaged chestpiece of Tony's armor.

"That's fine where it is, thanks," Tony said, but Loki paid him no mind. With an almighty heave and a flash of green, the left half of his chestpiece went flying into the air, landing with a thud somewhere out of Tony's eyeline.

Tony let his head drop back onto the ground. "That was a prototype," He sighed.

"Would you prefer me preserve the prototype or your life?" Loki questioned as he delicately placed one hand on the still-bleeding gash. Tony flinched as his cool hand touched his skin. "Both would be preferable," he answered.

"It is too late for your 'prototype,' but I will see what I can do for your life," Loki said. Green light flared around his hands as he spoke, and Tony jolted as energy surged through his body. He wanted to yell as he felt a horrible itching sensation run down his side, mingling with the pain as it traced the line of the wound – then, just as suddenly as it had come, it was gone. He lay panting on the ground, feeling as though he'd just gotten a turn in the electric chair.

Well, that had been unpleasant, but at least he wasn't dead – yet, anyway. Tony quickly sat up and looked down at his bare skin – a thin red line marked where the gaping wound had been. That was all. No blood, no injury, just a scar and a ripped shirt.

Oh, and ruined armor, but he could live with that.

"Surprised?" Loki asked wryly, watching Tony's reaction.

Tony hastily stood. A little dizziness, a little weakness, that was all. Again, Tony was left wondering what exactly the god was capable of.

"Surprised? Of course," Tony said. "I thought I owed you the life-debts, not the other way around."

"You simply now owe me another," Loki said with a shrug.

Tony waved a hand dismissively. He still didn't know why the god was keeping track - or why the god was saving lives in the first place. "Put it on my tab."

"Already marked." Loki gestured grandly at the empty forest around them. "Shall we return to our eagerly awaiting audience?"

"Let them gossip a little longer. Some questions first." Tony looked Loki square in the eye, then asked a single word. "Why?"

"Specifics, Stark," Loki chided him. "Or you will not receive the answer you seek."

"Fine," Tony snapped. "Why all… this?" He gestured to the lack of Avengers around them. "Bruce is a doctor. The wound wasn't all that deep anyway. Why did you bother?"

"Because I did not trust them to do it." Loki spat the words through clenched teeth, as though he was embarrassed or ashamed of the answer.

Tony snorted. "I think Bruce would care more about saving my life than you. What–"

"You know not of what you speak." Loki cut him off, his eyes glinting an unholy green. Tony took a step back. Yes, the god had just saved his life, but the look on his face made Tony think he was pondering taking it away again.

Loki abruptly moved forward, closing the space between them. "Stark, I tire of your denial. You place so much confidence in a lie, you do not see the truth standing before you."

Tony frowned. Another riddle-filled answer. What a surprise. "Is it really that hard to talk normally?" Tony demanded.

Loki ignored him. "Stark. That evening, in the workshop –"

Tony took a big step back, his repulsors flaring automatically. "You really want to bring that up?" Tony said, the challenge clear in his voice. He still wasn't over that, and wouldn't be over it until there was a nice reckoning with Loki. Yes, he definitely wanted to fight with the god, but it didn't seem like such a great time.

But Loki followed fearlessly, ignoring his glowing repulsors. He approached, standing so close their chests were nearly touching. "You intrigued me," Loki said. "From the beginning. Humans seldom intrigue me, short-lived and vapid as they are. But you… you were interesting."

Tony listened silently, unsure where the god was going. "As a god who deals in mischief, I am used to taking what I want. The spell was simply designed to muddle your thoughts for but a moment, for me to take what I wished without you attempting to kill me." He smiled wryly. "What I did not expect was your reaction."

Tony couldn't make himself move away; but it didn't feel like a spell this time. "Let me make it clear for you, Stark," the god breathed in his ear, closing the distance between them. Tony's breath caught as he felt a cold hand against the bare skin of his chest. As Loki slowly traced down the line of his wound, he whispered, "My spell made you let me. It did not make you like it."

Before Tony could reply, the world was suddenly enveloped once more in a whirl of emerald green – a blink later and the Avengers were standing before them.

"I told you everything was fine," Natasha said in a bored tone as Steve and Bruce plied Tony with questions. "Fine, I'm fine," Tony said, waving them off, feeling quite distracted. "Loki wanted to do some magic healing voodoo and needed space to work." He looked down to see why they were still fussing – his shirt had been ripped wide open, clearly showing the thin line that was all that was left of the gash – but all he saw was the plain, unbroken blue of his tee.

So Loki had turned seamstress and stitched up his shirt too. Huh. So that's what he'd been doing. Not exactly what he'd thought…

"You need time to think it through, Stark," came a whisper from behind him. "I shall give it to you." Tony whirled, but couldn't see where the voice was coming from. Loki was standing several feet away, but the voice had sounded right in his ear.

Loki unflinchingly met Tony's eyes, but his gaze was taunting. Again the whisper came. "Try to consider it objectively, won't you?" Tony could hear the challenge clear in his voice.

"Objectively, my ass," Tony muttered.

"What, Tony?" Steve said.

Right. There were people around him. He tried to ignore the infuriating god.

Hermione abruptly shoved through the cluster of people around Tony. "You're okay?" When he nodded, she grabbed his arm. "We'll explain everything on the way. We need to go."

Tandem-Apparating again. Tony still didn't like it. Ron was all for leaving the jet, but leaving the vehicle at the scene of the crime didn't seem like such a great idea, so they quickly piled on after making sure there were no stowaways. Their original idea of splitting up wasn't so favorable after being attacked – safety in numbers and such. Sure, numbers hadn't stopped Tony from getting cleaved open, but he supposed the theory was still sound. As they sped towards the mansion, Natasha and Clint threw up every barrier and shield the jet had. Harry hadn't said a word, but Tony wasn't stupid. The 'vision', or whatever it was Harry had, clearly hadn't been good.

Everyone was tense and ill at ease, but they made it to the mansion unscathed. Tony awkwardly climbed out of the jet – after losing half of his armor, his suit had, not surprisingly, started acting up. And then of course his runes were absolutely blasted to smithereens. They'd served their purpose, but now it was time for Runes: Mark II.

But first, meeting time. In the kitchen once again (Thor was starving) it was time to discuss the next step.


Next chapter will be up in about 2 minutes :)

Also, I had to reference Thor being fireproof - in the Avengers, when something huge and fiery blows up during the final battle, Steve and Natasha cower behind the shield while Thor just shields his eyes slightly like the sweltering huge fiery explosion is just a little too bright for him. Had to mention it.