Short first chapter, mostly explaining what's going on, who's present, what everyone's wearing (might have gone a little far on that) and establishing a little canon. Things will start happening in ch.2.
Takes place after IM3, before WS and completely disregards tDW.
It was a special occasion. Very special. In fact, none of them had ever experienced anything like it. A week earlier, Thor, recently returned from Asgard, had announced them all invited to a grand feast in his royal palace. None had wanted to refuse the invitation, so when the day arrived there was a rather large group of people who had gathered in a field just outside New Mexico. They had been told to dress up, but also that there would be duels and showings of skill, so clothes should not be too impractical. There was therefore a rather wide array of different kinds of clothes.
Natasha Romanov and Clint Barton stood close together. Both had been excused from SHIELD for the occasion. He was wearing a simple suit, an easy smile and his bow and quiver across his back. She wore a short red skirt and a matching jacket. Simple silver chain necklace and earrings, perfect makeup, short hair, low heels and what could easily be mistaken for black pantyhose, but which the team knew were just the visible parts of the bodysuit she wore underneath. Also, an unknown number of number of hidden guns and knives.
Bruce Banner stood towards the periphery of the group. Holding hands, and deep in conversation, with Betty Ross. They had only gotten back in contact a couple of months earlier when Bruce had realized he finally had something like a permanent place to stay, and they were still catching up. Both of them had the appearance of people who rarely dressed up, her with her hair in a ponytail, a bare minimum of makeup, flat shoes and a simple dress, and him with an purple shirt and a tie and dress pants. Dress pants which were far stretchier than they looked, courtesy of Tony Stark's fabric innovations. Still, the pair of them betrayed a rather good sense of style.
Tony Stark and Pepper Potts stood a few steps away. She had easily cleared their schedule for the invitation. Not even the board members of Stark Industries could argue that the pair should miss out on a chance to meet the king if another world. They kept the appearance of people who dressed up all the time. Tony, not a hair out of place, wore a sharp suit, just open enough to show off the arc reactor. In his left hand he held the suitcase armour and the other arm was up for Pepper to hold. She wore her hair in perfect waves down her shoulders, stylish jewellery, dizzyingly high heels and a long, dark blue halter neck. Everything from the heels to the matching purse was very, very fireproof. With extremis only recently gotten under any semblance of control any non-fireproof clothes of hers had burn marks or worse. The pair made small talk, friendly bickering and at times they smiled at each other in a way that made those around them feel mildly uncomfortable.
At least was Steve Rogers, a few steps further down from them, polite enough to look the other way whenever those smiles appeared. Like Bruce and Betty, Steve was unused to formal wear, though he at least had a proper suit. Even having left the jacket at home and with the red and blue and star-emblazed shield strapped to his back he looked much like a fish out of water. Steve had not invited a plus one, but he did engage in a little small talk with Erik Selvig and Darcy Lewis. Talking with Eric at least, Darcy was mostly complaining about how she had not been allowed to bring her boyfriend (whom she had known for a week at most). Erik had pulled a tired old suit out of a closet somewhere and Darcy was wearing a strange skirt-top-combo which no one seemed to know if was intentional or not. The two of them were both giddy over the upcoming space trip, if for slightly different reasons.
Jane Foster, flat shoes, dress in a toned down flower pattern, stood alone, staring at the sky. If anyone noticed her chewing distractedly at her thumb, they did not mention it.
And last, but not least, and unusually out of place stood Nicholas Fury and Maria Hill. He was wearing a very formal looking trench coat and a new eye patch and she had an incredibly official suit-with-a-skirt. Both were quietly observing the rest of the group. Both were undoubtedly packing heat.
They stood like this in a loose circle while talking and waiting for their last friend to show up, getting steadily louder and more impatient as the minutes passed by.
Then there was a bright flash of light and Thor, the god of thunder, stood in front of them. With his cape and shining armour there was no reason to doubt he was really the prince of another world.