So now Thor is home, and Tony and Clint are already bearing the roles of honored warrior-diplomats for this strategic defense interplanetary conference. Loki's there, too, acting just as weird as ever and Tony notices he feels generally off-beat to Asgard's steady drum. But the real oddball is the king himself, who – given how much Tony's heard of Odin's wrath, his dislike of mortals, and the recent loss of his queen – is as cold and calculating as any businessman with whom Tony's had to deal.

Title: Dance a Little Dance

Chapter Three: How Not To Piss Off A God-King

Word Count: 4,631

[Total Word Count: 17,527 ]

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe

Pairing: Eventual FrostIron/IronFrost, if we can get there in one piece.

Warning: Language, violence, technical malfunctions

Spoilers: Incorporates everything in the main storyline up to the ending of "Thor: The Dark World". Also, Tony still has the shrapnel, electromagnet and arc reactor in his chest.

Author: Kisnau

Date: Wednesday, February 11, 2015

Miscellaneous Notes: I wrote all of this back in January, but have been staggering the updates. Haven't written anything new for this fic, yet. Part of that is due to me getting a concussion, so – under doctor's orders – I've been trying to take it easy on both the physical and mental activities, but I figured a few days before Valentine's was a good time to post this. :3

Hopefully I'll be able to write more, soon! In the meantime, please do enjoy this chapter~

: : : : : : :

Soon – but not soon enough, as Tony's thinking of Pepper on her way over to rant at him and take over responsibility for Stark Industries yet again – the three of them are standing atop the Tower, suited up and ready to go with their bags. Tony figures he might as well go for the whole Asgard experience, so he's got just his briefcase suit on, and some T-shirts, a pair of jeans and 'Earth necessities' in the bag. The packing is mostly due to Jarvis' recommendations and Steve, who's still seeming a bit leery about the whole situation. But Tony trusts Thor, and he knows conferences. He doesn't think this will take more than a few days unless some serious shit goes down, so the Armani ensemble he's wearing under the suit should suffice to make a good impression.

Clint's packing light, too. There are a few things Tony'd packed, himself – like a Stark tablet and the portable arc-reactor-powered energy source he can use to charge it, in addition to a back-up reactor for his chest, just in case. Alien homeworld or no, Tony's pretty sure Asgard's electricity isn't regulated enough to supply delicate Earth-made devices with their needed juice (he's seen Thor in action, after all), and Tony's never done well disconnected from technology for very long. It'll also be an excellent chance to test the multi-world communicators he'd been toying with. Pepper's got one, and if it works Tony will be telling her, himself, that he's safely landed in Asgard.

More importantly, as Thor raises his hammer towards the sky and calls for Heimdall, Tony wonders why Loki let his brother think he was dead. Sure, it seemed it was a while ago, but that's no excuse for Thor's guilt-stricken face about not telling them Loki was dead. Thor had been grieving. But what had possessed Loki to come back? The two times Tony saw him in Malibu, Loki hadn't seemed desperate. In fact, he'd seemed anything but.

Had Loki really been on vacation? If he was a fugitive, knowing he was just barely escaping Asgardian (and Earth) justice, wouldn't he have been in hiding? Or had Loki known Tony was in Malibu, and chosen that place specifically on the off-chance he'd run into Tony? But why would Loki do something like that? Why would Loki want to run into him? Why had Loki stayed perfectly calm, in that coffee shop, fully aware it was Iron Man who was walking up to him? Tony knew Clint had said something about Loki pulling information from his head. Had Loki pulled that information? Did he have a rough idea of the backgrounds of the Avengers – at least, as much as Clint knew? The thought was disturbing.

Tony's musings were cut short as the Bifrost opened around them, and they were sucked into the tunnel of space. He was thankful for the armor around him as they encountered turbulence and Clint clutched to Thor's muscled arm like it was a lifeline. Who knows, maybe it was. What happened if someone fell out of the Bifrost between planets, anyway?

His suit's sensors were going crazy as they recorded the energy waves around him, the screen scrambling from static and overload of energy. Unexpectedly, the electricity surged into the arc reactor from the suit, seeking an outlet for the overload and Tony felt his chest tighten as the arc reactor's energy swelled beyond safe levels. This wasn't the 400% he'd gotten when Thor tried his hammer on him. This was 1000%, all around him - it hurt – it ached, and he shook involuntarily as the extra electricity sang along his nerves like an electrocution as some of it leaked out of the arc reactor. Thor noticed the shaking before Clint did, and Tony tried to wave him off, but then they were landing and Tony stumbled forward onto solid ground as the suit buckled from the sudden absence of power, the blindingly bright HUD screen flickering before going black. He had the time to think oh, shit, fuck, I should've quadrupled instead of tripled the layers of failsafes and surge protectors before his momentum took him forward after the initial landing. The knees in the suit wouldn't bend, and Tony flinched as the floor hit him straight-on, thankful for the armor even as it left a good dent in the floor of whatever magnificent gateway they'd just entered.

"Tony?! Hey, man, what's – " Clint.

"Man of Iron?" Thor.

But lying face-down in a blacked-out suit wasn't really his style, so:

"Uh. Little help here? Technical malfunction." Tony could have sworn a lilting, arrogant voice chuckled in his ear. It didn't come from anyone behind him, more from… the floor?

Performance issues?

That voice was a little too familiar.

Tony cursed his unresponsive suit and wondered, not for the first time, if it all was just Loki screwing with him for the hell of it. Then, there were hands on him – probably Thor's – pulling him and his dead weight of armor up with surprising strength.

: : :

The suit wouldn't boot back up, and Tony loudly protested Thor just ripping it off him, piece by piece. The arc reactor was doing fine, oddly enough, and Tony was suspicious as to why. It had been overloaded with too much electricity, so it shouldn't be running, much less acting normally. It should've shorted out; not that Tony was complaining. Since the suit wouldn't connect with the power source, though, Tony had to guess that the connections between the suit and the reactor had been severed. Maybe it had even saved his life. Regardless, once they had him standing – courtesy of Thor's steadying hand on one of his shoulders – Tony told Clint about the small release hatch hidden in the back of the suit's left calf. What was within was for emergencies only, as it was a special tool that would enable him to manually extract himself from his suit in the event the suit lost all power. The release wasn't electronic, either, so it couldn't be compromised. Once they're somewhere less exposed than the gateway of the Bifrost, Tony will tell Clint to get it out so he can get out of this nonfunctioning suit.

Someone – he can't exactly see through the lifeless black screen of his HUD – mentions that it does no good to block the entrance to the Bifrost like this, but Tony just rolls his eyes and says it'll literally take a minute. They're not supposed to meet with Odin until tomorrow, anyway. The suit is unwieldy without power, and that'll take about a day to fix if he can find the shorted circuits and repair them before hooking up his extra reactor to test how it runs. After Tony tells Clint to click the manual release on the faceplate and it slides up into the top of the helmet like it's supposed to, Tony feels a stare. Tony looks up, and locks eyes with the Keeper – Heim-something, Tony thinks it was. Whoever he is, the man is tall and imposing. He is stone-faced, and his eyes are pale yellow, seeming to almost be glowing with the energy of the Bifrost itself. It's beyond unnerving, but Tony's never been very good at keeping his mouth shut, anyway.

"Those're some eyes you've got, uh." His sentence gets cuts off as the man stares unemotionally at him – wait, he is a man, right? Not some weird carved-stone-given-life kind-of gatekeeper? Not that there's anything wrong with that…

"Man of Iron." Thor asks, firmly driving the conversation away from Tony's awkwardness, and Tony looks at him. "What do you require of us?" Thor is serious when he asks.

After trying to lighten the mood by asking for a good scotch, Tony sighs. He admits that it's going to take a minute to manually detach the suit from around him, and afterwards it'll take some time to recalibrate it all. Theoretically, it should all go back into its dormant briefcase-form, but if the circuits are fried then Tony knows he's screwed. Still, he's not ready to give up on his own handiwork that easily. Tony tells Thor point-blank that he'll need a place to work, and Thor smiles. Thor admits they had given Clint and Tony their own rooms in the palace, and that Tony's was one of the few that leads to a separate, hidden room. Clint immediately whines about the unfairness of this, and Thor casts him an amused look, asking if Clint would prefer the Iron Man technology get poked over by the maids that will clean their rooms, without Tony's permission. Tony huffs a chuckle, at that, and is steadily trying to ignore the claustrophobia trying to set in from being trapped in his own suit.

They get underway soon enough, Clint hanging off Thor's back like a monkey so he doesn't fly off and one of Tony's armored shoulders held in Thor's firm grip. Thor's other hand rises above their heads with Mjolnir, and they take off for the palace with a predictable peal of thunder (seriously, Asgard, points for great sound effects). The Bifrost sparkles beneath them, and Tony can at least move his head to see the glittering expanse as it shoots by.

: : :

They fly through the window in Tony's room, first, and Thor goes to the vanity in the opposite corner, upon which various baubles sit with what looks like a good layer of dust. He picks one of these up. It is a crystal hexagon at the bottom, the sections leading to a fine point at the top. It is no more than three inches tall, maybe. Thor smiles as he lifts it, showing it to them, and strides two steps to the side. He sweeps a curtain aside from the wall, and neatly slots the point of the crystal into a suspiciously hexagon-shaped carving in the stone.

How predictable, Tony thinks dryly as part of the wall shimmers into nonexistence, but shakes it off as Thor turns to pick him up and carry him through the doorway. Clint follows, and Tony notices that this 'hidden room' is really nothing more than a barren closet. The walls are a lazy, natural white, and there is only one table – too small to serve as a worktable – and a stool off to the side. There are no windows, but the ceiling seems to glow with a clear yellow light that reminds Tony of candles or the old kind of lightbulbs. Thor sets him down facing the door they just came through, and Tony's eyes widen as he notices the crystal from the other side of the wall is in the exact same position, only inside the room, now. Thor laughs as Clint sets to work unhooking Tony's right shoulder from the armor, and explains.

"A security measure, Man of Iron. The crystal senses when someone passes through the doorway and shifts to the proper side. You cannot be locked in, or locked out, against your will." Tony stares at him.

"Well, wasn't that thoughtful of the makers of this place." Thor smiles.

"I will tell my father we have arrived, and that you, my friends, shall meet with him on the morrow, as planned. I wish you luck in repairing your suit. Eye of Hawk, when your assistance is no longer required, there will be someone waiting outside to show you to your room." Thor nods to them, then turns and leaves. After a few minutes, Clint's wrangled Tony's backpack containing his change of clothes and supplies off of him. Then, Clint is following Tony's directions exactly in order to retrieve the emergency tool in the back of the suit's left calf. Soon enough, Tony's right arm is free and he sighs in relief as it falls to the stone floor with a loud clang. It's not broken, of course; the metal alloy is too tough to get a dent just from gravity. The mechanism for the arm kicks in as Clint and Tony watch it on the floor. The metal separates the wrist from the rest of the arm, and said arm scuttles in towards the center from both ends until it is only a metal ring resembling a red roll of duct tape, with the layers neatly pressed together inside. The gauntlet twirls its fingers into the scale-like things its made up of, a small ball resembling a fist without fingers all that remains when all the layers have reverted to their dormant state.

Clint looks up from the floor and asks if Tony needs any more help. Tony can see he's dying to explore the castle – probably find some nests, while he's at it, too. Besides, Tony's not exactly proud of the way his tech failed so spectacularly on the way over here, and he'd prefer to nurse his pride in private. So he holds out his free hand out for the emergency tool, and waves Clint off to his waiting manservant.

"Nah, I've got this." Clint shrugs and leaves, and Tony is left alone to a long night of manually removing his armor.

: : :

It really only takes a couple hours for Tony to finish, and he collapses in a heap next to the few parts he'd not yet attached to the bigger briefcase puzzle. Once in their dormant state, the parts fit together exceptionally well, electricity shorted out or no. He'd camped out on the floor to avoid any possible falls from unwieldy equipment, and removed the helmet, neck plating, chest plate and the other arm, first. He'd discarded the Armani jacket over top of the table, trying to avoid wrinkling it. Pepper would want him to make a good impression, after all. He laid the collared shirt and tie over top of it, and pulled on one of his T-shirts from his backpack instead. Next, he'd set to getting the legs of the armor off, including his shoes. Upon finally freeing his feet, Tony wriggled his toes in their socks and discarded the matching Armani pants, as well, favoring a relaxed fit pair of jeans. His mind was wound too tight from the careful work it'd taken to remove everything. Sure, some of his other suits were designed to come off easier, but this one was more portable and Tony honestly hadn't thought that the Bifrost would mess up his electronics, when it'd handled Mjolnir all right. It was a miscalculation that he'd have to remember for the future.

Tony wanders out of his room and notices it's dark outside. He hadn't thought it was that late, but maybe the days in Asgard are shorter than the ones on Earth. The halls are high and in the light of the torches Tony can see the glimmer of gold. Having never been in want of money, it doesn't appeal to him in the way it might a poorer man. Still, it is very nice to look at and Tony walks with his neck craned back until he trips over something soft lying in the walkway. He nearly falls, but catches himself in time and looks around as one of the shadows moves, rising.

It's Loki, a book in one hand and looking concerned but princely in what must be his royal clothes. Tony notices a scuff mark on the bottom edge of his cloak and guesses that's what he'd tripped over. Tony steps back from Loki's outstretched hand and polite apology. Tony's face is hard and he doesn't answer. He remembers the last time they saw each other. Still he sees a flicker of confusion on Loki's face, before it's masked by a pleasant smile.

"Tony Starkson. I had heard from my brother that you had arrived safely. I'm glad." There's a niggling edge of doubt poking at Tony, and he frowns a little, but focuses on the conversation, instead.

"Yeah. That Bifrost is one hell of a roller coaster ride." Loki's face is neutral enough that Tony knows he has no idea what he's talking about, and that makes him feel a vicious little stab of superiority. Riding it, he continues, almost snapping. "So, what're you doing back here? Some Big Bad hovering over your shoulder, so you run crying home? Pretty risky considering Odin threw you into a cell, last time." Loki's eyes shutter themselves, and his smile is suddenly much more congenial and aloof.

"I trust my father's judgments." Loki recites faithfully, as though he's long practiced this. "What he did, he did for the good of Asgard."

"And faking your death in front of Thor, was that for 'the good of Asgard', too?" Tony shoots back at him, blatantly interrupting the bullshit. Loki pauses, and eyes him searchingly for a moment, but no other emotion touches his face.

"It was necessary." He enunciates carefully, eyes flicking over Tony's face. "I was weakened from my long imprisonment, and Thor was hardly subtle in our escape. Other eyes were watching. I needed those eyes to see me dead." It sounds simple. Too simple. It still doesn't explain why Loki had been on Earth. Why he'd looked so comfortable, in that coffee shop. Why he'd been masquerading as a woman in a club; experimenting. Why would Loki run back to Earth, of all places? Surely 'those eyes' – if they had anything to do with the Chitauri and the attempted invasion, back in 2012 – would still be on Earth, seeking out another weakness. Instead of asking the question he wants to know, though, Tony opts for a better one.

"Why'd you wait two years to come back?" Tony knows it hasn't been two years since he last saw Loki. If anything, it's been the better part of a year since their little accidental tryst. But to Thor, it has been two years. And Tony knows Thor's no diplomat, and isn't good at lying, but surely Loki could've trusted someone. Loki smiles, and Tony can see the lie a mile away, so he cuts him off as Loki goes to answer.

"There were – "

"And why'd you pick Earth? Or were the other planets' clubs just not up to snuff?" The look Loki gives him is one of pure bafflement, and for a moment Tony thinks he's misstepped. Maybe that night didn't happen, after all. There's no record of it, anyway. Maybe it was just his fucked-up imagination and too much liquor –

"Starkson." There's the chink of metal against stone and Tony turns. Expecting the inevitable but not wanting it to be true – no, yep, there are two guards. Maybe picking a fight with one of Odin's sons in the middle of a hallway hadn't been such a good idea. Tony glances to Loki for help, but the damn Trickster's vanished. The guards don't look all that intimidating, though, and maybe that's a good thing. Tony sums up his bravado – painfully aware he's in only a T-shirt, jeans and socks – and shoots them a cocksure smile.

"What can I do for you, boys?" The guards are unaffected, but nod towards him in respect.

"The All-Father requests your presence for a private audience." Tony's brows and curiosity peak; the latter is the only thing keeping him from giving a snide retort.

"Well, who am I to keep him waiting?" The guards nod again. Upon reflecting, it's probably not a good idea to piss off the King of Asgard while in his kingdom – much as Tony would like to see Odin's face turn red. He has to wonder if Odin would look more like Santa or Howard, at that point.

"Please follow us, Sir Starkson." They turn back the way they'd come, and start off at a good pace. Tony follows them more leisurely, taking his time to drink in the sights of the palace as they pass through its many halls and lit torches.

: : :

Tony's expecting to be led to the throne room, but the room the guards shoo him into is more a private meeting chamber than the echoing halls he'd expected. Odin is sitting in a chair almost as regal as his throne; and if not, at least made in the same vein. The king gives him a slight inclination of his head in respect, and gestures to a chair only marginally less ornate than his own.

"Starkson." Tony doesn't bother correcting him – hey, it's better than 'Howardson', anyway – and plops into the indicated chair, humoring him.

"Odin." They size each other up, for a moment, until Odin breaks the silence, his voice only just pleasant.

"I see you are no longer wearing your armor. It is reparable? Thor had mentioned an unforeseen complication, on your journey over the Bifrost." Tony gives his most socially lubricated smile.

"Nothing to worry about. I built it, I'll fix it. It's what I do." Tony offers, civilly. Odin's one eye is still watching him, assessing.

"You fix things, on Midgard?" Tony shrugs, reclining into his chair, arms folding behind his head; the picture of relaxed confidence.

"Build new things, mostly. Tinker with older ones." Odin watches him, and Tony feels a shiver through his heart, like the king is seeing more than he lets on.

"Your history is of iron and smoke." Odin states in a vague voice, and Tony calmly meets his eye. But Odin's looking past him – not in the creepy way of a moment before, but well and truly past him, away from the present. Odin continues, before Tony can think to stop him. "Fire and pain. You lost – "

"Is there a point to this meeting, Odin All-Pappy, or can I go now?" Tony starts in a sharp, warning tone and Odin's eye refocuses on him. The creases at the corner of that eye crinkle, although Odin doesn't smile.

"I have the power to return something that was taken from you, Tony Starkson." Tony stops short, and frowns at Odin. He still thinks on his feet, though, and doesn't miss a beat.

"You don't have anything I want." Tony states, flatly, waving a dismissive hand towards Odin and trying to reroute the conversation even as his mind falls upon a million possibilities.

Howard.

No, Maria.

Yinsen.

His heart, free of shrapnel and whole.

Not Obadiah. Obadiah as he used to be, however…

No. Still, no. This is fucked up in so many ways.

Now, Odin does smile behind his beard, almost like he knows what Tony's thinking.

Well, damn, maybe he does. Tony puts on his best poker smile.

"Nothing I want." Tony insists, telling himself the past should stay in the past.

"I will not resurrect one of your dead, Tony Starkson." Odin states in what is almost an amused tone, and Tony feels his heart sink as Odin ignores Tony's attempts to shush his own id. "For that, you would need to venture to Helheim, and ask such of its Queen. No." Odin's eye glitters, and he points at Tony's chest. Tony doesn't need to look down to know it's the arc reactor he indicates.

"I can make you whole again. Return your portable glowing sphere to being the energy marvel it was always meant to be, not merely that which keeps you alive." Tony lifts his head, chin up, and square-on frowns at Odin.

"You can't. I've tried. The doctors opened me up and couldn't operate—"

"I do not refer to external healing methods, Tony Starkson." Odin interrupts him softly, and Tony opens his mouth to protest when Odin holds up a hand, palm up, and a golden apple, hale and whole and shimmering with more light than any fruit has a right to hold appears floating in the air above Odin's crooked fingers. Tony's stunned into silence. When Thor and Loki had first appeared, he did basic research on Norse legends, and now some of it comes back to him, in Jarvis' posh, clinical tone.

The golden apples of Idunn.

"Yes." Odin offers quietly. The apple spins slowly above Odin's palm and Tony can't help but watch it. "I offer you a bite, Tony Starkson; only a bite, but such is more than enough to repair the damage to your heart. It is a greater boon than any mere mortal deserves." With a wave of Odin's hand, the apple and its light disappears and Tony finds himself blinking spots out of his eyes. When his vision refocuses, he knows the smile on Odin's face has pulled into a smug smirk beneath that snow-white beard. "Still, I offer it to you." And Tony can't help but think, in a mafia tone of voice, I'm gonna make you an offer you can't refuse. "You have proven yourself in battle alongside my son, were willing to sacrifice yourself to destroy the Chitauri fleet, and are one of the most tenacious mortals I have observed in my long vigil watching over the Nine Realms."

"Thanks." Tony blurts, still over-thinking.

"This is more than any god hath given a mortal." And Tony frowns a little at the inherent superiority in that statement. He's almost wanting to refuse, on principle, at this blatant attempt at manipulation, or bribery, or whatever-it-is, but Odin merely stares at him. "What say you, Tony Starkson, of Midgard?" Tony hesitates, and then outright smirks in realization.

"I say, what do you want in return?" Odin's brows rise, and Tony knows he's got him. Probably playing on humanity's inherent greed, there – Odin thinking Tony would agree without reading the fine print. Tony's smirk grows sharp, with teeth. "C'mon, I wasn't born yesterday. If you're gonna give out state secrets like that, it must mean you want something pretty big in return. What is it? My arc reactor, once it's 'useless'? Got something you need to power, here in Asgard?" Odin's beginning to look offended, and suddenly the king stands, his hands fisted at his sides.

"Your impudence, young mortal, will be your downfall." Odin booms, his one eye burning furiously at Tony, who's a little taken aback by the sudden mood-shift. Maybe this is where Loki gets it? "You must face three trials of my devising, and should you succeed, a bite of one of Idunn's apples will be your reward, along with an honorary title as a warrior of Asgard. For what more, could you dare ask?" Tony stares at the incensed king, and after a beat, he stands, as well, hands spread to the side in a show of peace.

"I don't need your title." Tony lifts one hand to his own chest, drawing it into a fist and pointing a thumb back at himself. "I fight for Earth, not Asgard. We're allies, Odin; you're not better than us just because you guys live longer and are harder to kill." Odin's lip starts to curl, but Tony's face is serious, as he extends that same hand, for a handshake. "Instead of fluffing my ego up, I say give me the bite and start treating us humans like we're your equal allies, instead of our ancestors who worshipped you as gods. We've come a long way since then, All-Pappy, and you're not the only god out there, anymore."

Odin doesn't look down at his hand, just stares at him, his mouth a thin, stubborn line, his jaw set.

Tony smiles, wryly.

"What do you think? Treat us like any of your other allies, and I'll go through your tests." Odin lifts his chin in a minutely haughty manner that reminds Tony of Loki, but reaches out to shake his hand, anyway. Odin's grip is crushing, but Tony does his best to meet it. There are teeth behind each of their tight-lipped smiles.

"Allies, then, Tony Starkson."

"You bet your fancy spear we are."