A/N:

I am so, so terribly sorry for the long wait. It was just [insert excuses here]. I promise next chapter will be up faster, and I'm really hoping this won't happen again.

I'm also looking for a beta, if anyone would be interested... You'd have my eternal gratitude.

Summary: Asgard has strange confession times. Tony wants Loki's bedroom. Loki doesn't.

Chapter V–Could Very Well Be a Lie

Separation (noun): the action or state of moving or being moved apart.

Fire.

They liked fire.

His skin didn't agree with it.

Nor did his insides.

But there was so much fire everywhere, an inferno of agony, and how, how did they manage to catch the burning of fire into a bottle so skilfully, so exactly that he would swear he could feel the tickling of flames if every sensation wasn't drowned in the pain of never-ending torture—

Perhaps if he stopped breathing, cut off the supply of oxygen, starve the flames to death—

It was worth a try.

A try.

What was a try?

Could he stop?

Would the pain stop? Could the pain stop? Was there a limit, an end, a beginning? Was it not eternity he was caught into, desolation of a void so enormous it could never be filled?

He couldn't think.

Funny, was it not? Always so careful not to push too far—did they make a mistake? At last?

Would his essence be eaten away by fire, become fire, and burn down everything and forever?

He needed to stop breathing.

Why? Why would he need…?

I forgot.

He didn't need—

Did he—

Just stop.

There was sweetness in pain, somebody had once said. This pain was rotten with sweetness, overwhelming, poisonous sweetness…

I should stop.

Stop breathing.

Stop.

Stop.

Could you stop in eternity…?

~*oO*o*Oo*~

Thor had left, and Tony's body was starting to grow very uncomfortable in the suit when the cursed door finally swung open. Rubbing his tired eyes, he shifted.

"I should have known you would be here."

He lifted his gaze to Odin's face, criss-crossed by tired lines. "Yes. You should have."

The king frowned. "There are many things you allow yourself, Man of Iron, but someday, you shall go too far."

"What can I say—I have a blatant disregard for authority." He shrugged but got to his feet nonetheless.

Something dark passed Odin's face, and for a moment, Tony feared he had really crossed the line, but then the shadow was replaced by an expression of world-weariness, and he let out a breath.

"You and Loki both."

Tony nodded. When he spoke again, his tone was much more agreeable. "Can I see him?"

"He is sleeping."

Was that a yes or a no? Because Tony was very much willing to understand everything as a yes; even a no could potentially be interpreted as a very reluctant yes in the Tony-speak.

A heavy sigh passed the monarch's lips and he turned away. "I should have known Loki would be involved in this."

That was a lot of should-have-knowns, and was it confession hour? Tony didn't have a therapist licence, and last time he checked, he and Odin weren't exactly best buddies.

"You could have just let Thor use the Bifrost." But then that creature would have probably killed him, since there would have been no Loki to save the day.

"I could have. I chose not to."

"Because you were hoping Jane would die and Thor would move on."

Odin turned again, eye meeting Tony's gaze. "I have a kingdom to think about," he said abruptly. "A kingdom that needs an heir and a future queen. Of course I forbade him to go."

Tony didn't say anything. He knew why Thor had done what he had done, and now that he wasn't seething with anger anymore, he could see how it had been a good thing for Asgard, too. Still, he wasn't prepared to play Thor's advocate just yet. Or ever. The Thunderer could speak for himself.

"I didn't think he would go to Loki right away, nor that he would manage to persuade him."

Definitely confession time. It was official, and still not making sense, except perhaps it was. As far as Tony knew, Loki's situation was a private affair; Odin couldn't really talk about to it anyone, not with his wife dead. There was Thor, but even Thor didn't seem to be informed, so that left Tony. Which was kind of sad, now that he thought about it.

"He didn't."

"I beg your pardon?"

"He didn't persuade Loki."

Odin's brow furrowed, and a spark of interest lit up his eye.

"Jane paid us a visit, told us what happened. Loki came for revenge."

"Hmm." Odin clasped his hands behind his back, made a few steps in one direction, then back again.

"Why didn't you tell him?" Tony said suddenly.

"We had an agreement."

"And agreement? About what? Not telling Loki the one person he considered family died? That was a great agreement, really. You would let Loki think his mother was still alive for years to come? And then what? When he decided to come back? When—"

When I died?

Odin regarded him in silence. "No," he said finally. "I would have told him."

Tony held back a snort. It was easy to forget who Odin was when his aura of imposingness wasn't turned on and Tony was mad.

"Why not now?"

Another pause. He saw Odin's chest lift with a heavy breath.

"You must understand, Tony Stark…" That eye bore into him. "No parent finds it simple to face their children's anger, especially when it is justified."

Tony blinked, then did it again. Odin afraid of Loki's anger? It had to be bullshit.

His eyes narrowed. "You thought he'd blame you for Frigga's death."

"He blames me for great many things. Some of his misdeeds can be traced back to me. I have done wrong, and yet I have seen him suffer for the right thing."

That… was a pretty lame excuse. Not that Tony didn't know what wanting to avoid anger was like, but there was always a line.

Coward, hung at the tip of his tongue. He pressed his lips together.

"And the funeral? He wanted to see that."

Odin's eye narrowed a bit. "As far as Asgard knows, Loki is still banished."

"What about now?"

"You are here as Thor's guest."

"And Loki? You're not throwing him out, are you? Are you?"

After a moment, Odin shook his head. The next breath felt a bit easier to take.

"Can I see him now?"

"Yes. You may go."

May go?

Right. Kings. Pff, Tony definitely had problems with authority.

"Um, thank you?"

He didn't wait for any other words that could follow. Instead, he turned and finally, finally got to open that damn door. It slid away soundlessly, forming a contrast to his steps.

Loki was sitting on the table, shirtless and slumped forward. His skin was about as pale as the towel (was that a towel?) that hung around his shoulders. Strands of hair clung to his skin, soaked with sweat. Two women were still around, the blond one—Hlin, was it?—and the stern one. They looked up when Tony entered, one a bit more surprised than the other, but said nothing. Hlin said something to Loki that was too quiet for Tony to hear, and then the two healers made their way to the door. Apparently, they were allowed to pretend he didn't exist. Fine with him. It wasn't like he craved anybody's attention here. Only, Hlin stopped just for a moment when they were face to face, gave a slight nod, and said, "Anthony Stark," but left before Tony could ask anything. How did she even know his name?

Not important. Loki mattered right now.

"Hey."

The god looked up with the most minute of smiles on his face, but tired, oh so tired. Tony let the suit open and stepped out—he hadn't wanted an audience for that, thank you very much. The less people knew what his suits could do, the better. Let Asgard think it was just a shiny armour.

Closing the distance, he came to stand between Loki's knees. Loki leaned his forehead against him.

"You okay, snowflake?"

A nod that Tony felt more than saw as he wrapped his arms around the god's back.

"Odin said you were sleeping."

"I was."

Tony nodded even though no one could see it. Silence settled around them with the elegance of a feline. Then,

"The dagger was poisoned. It felt like acid."

Oh.

Oh.

"I'm sorry. But they fixed you, didn't they?" Gently, he pushed Loki away and brushed the towel off his shoulders. The skin underneath was smooth; no sign of stab wounds or other injuries, but it could very well be a lie. The scars on Loki's face were no longer visible, yet that didn't mean they were gone.

"Yes."

" Babe?" He caressed Loki's jawline with his knuckles. "Will you let me see your scars sometime?"

"Perhaps. I… I'm so tired, Tony…"

"Okay. Can you magic us to your room?"

"I'm tired…" Loki slurred, sagging against Tony.

Huh. He would have to think of another way to get there, then. The problem was, Tony had no idea where Loki's rooms were, and he really didn't want to carry the god through the entire palace where everyone could see.

"Here." He helped Loki lie down again. "I'll go ask someone about the rooms, okay?"

The reply was too slurred to be understood, so Tony took it as an agreement and slipped out of the room—

Only to almost crash into Jane. Or Thor. Or both. They were standing right next to each other and must have been about to enter the room. Good for them that the door opened inwards…

"Oh, hey, Big Guy. Great timing. Any chance you could get us to Loki's room? And make some food appear from somewhere? I think I deserved food. Double cheese pizza. You don't have those, do you?"

"No, we do not. Come, friend Stark, I will show you to your room."

He threw a glance over his shoulder. "My room? I have a room?"

"There are rooms for guests."

"Not Loki's? Why not Loki's? Is he not allowed to leave yet?"

Thor frowned. "You are here as my guest."

"Yeah, that's what your dad said. What now, I'm not supposed to be seen around Loki?"

"Stark, people would talk if they saw you entering or leaving his rooms."

"So?" he challenged. "He's my lover."

"He is a criminal!"

Tony fixed him with a glare. "So are you. So am I."

Thor's eyes narrowed. "You take everything I say as an attack."

"Maybe because it sounds like that."

"Oh, cut it out!" Jane put a hand on Thor's biceps, and her gaze bore into Tony. "Thor, stop accusing, Tony, stop being on the defensive all the time. We should get some sleep."

Thor nodded. "You will spend the night in the guest rooms, friend Stark. Loki's situation is uncertain still."

Rolling his eyes, he nodded. He could always sneak out at night.

Or not, he thought later when he followed Thor and Jane through the corridors, armour-suitcase in his hand. There was no way he wouldn't get lost in here.

So far, he really wasn't a huge fan of Asgard.

~*oO*o*Oo*~

Loki woke up gasping, drenched in cold sweat, and fighting remnants of phantom pain gripping his body. His hand shot up to his throat and he rolled the tongue around his mouth, just to make sure it was still there…

His eyes searched for Tony, but the darkness of the room was only penetrated by gentle starlight spilling in through the windows; the familiar glow of the arc reactor was absent. Loki was back in his room, apparently having been unceremoniously dumped on top of the bed, but where was Tony? Had something happened to him? Loki needed the man, and why wasn't he here?

Breathing escalating, he climbed off the bed, ignoring the pain pulsing in his head. The soles of his boots hit the stone; whoever had brought him here didn't even care enough to take them off. It was hardly surprising.

He dragged himself to the door, pushed at it—

Nothing.

He pushed stronger, and still the door did not give in.

Was he a prisoner now? Why? He was not supposed to be in Asgard, that much was true, but it was only an agreement keeping him out, no longer banishment. Unless… Odin would twist it all again, blame him for letting the Aether fall into Malekith's hands. He had saved Thor—did that account for nothing? The same way it never had before?

Then suddenly, panic rose inside him. If he was locked in here, what had they done with Tony? If they'd hurt him… If they'd hurt his Tony…

The burst of magic stemmed from rage as much as from panic. It threw the door off the hinges but did nothing to lessen either of the feelings. He needed Tony.

Tears welled up in his eyes.

He didn't understand. Why would he cry now? What was there to cry about? He had his powers. He could find Tony and get them away from here.

Yet he found himself leaning against the wall by the doorframe, back pressed against the cold stone. His eyes only watered more when he let them wander about the room, and a knot of pain tightened in his chest. He couldn't move. He couldn't do anything.

Tony always told him to breathe.

He pressed a hand to his forehead and forced himself to suck in a breath. As long as he kept breathing, he should be fine. Purposefully, he pushed all thoughts out of his mind and slowly straightened. He tried to ignore the room, the dust that had settled over everything that had ever been precious to him.

His mother...

The sudden sound of footsteps made him snap out of the daze. His muscles tightened, senses sharpened.

His fingers twitched.

Thank you for reading. Please let me know what you thought.

~shades