Tony wasn't sure how long he stayed with Fandral. It was so easy to strike a conversation with him – always bordering on (but never quite reaching) flirting, all of it without making it uncomfortable. Fandral was the sort of person he would have liked back on earth.
Both of them winced when the door to Fandral's room burst open and Loki entered, his jaw clenched and looking like some furious raven-haired deity of fury. The conversation with Meanie-with-an-Eyepatch must have been great, then.
"This", he hissed, "is not the kitchen, Anthony." He did his best to murder Fandral with his glare.
"I was just having breakfast!", the engineer defended himself, exchanging a helpless look with the blond while he raised his hands in a soothing gesture.
"With Fandral", Loki snapped. "Which part of kitchen did you not understand?"
"Jesus Christ, Loki, turn it down a notch", Tony responded. "It's not like he's done anything evil or something like that. What's bitten you all of sudden? You weren't that grumpy earlier today, were you?"
"Well, earlier today I didn't have to deal with father's endless tirades and the spineless chickenheart that is Freyja Skadisdottir. Now if you don't mind, I would like you to get up and end this pointless discussion because I had enough of those today!" The prince's voice had risen towards the end of the sentence until he was almost yelling.
"Got the memo, you're pissed", the inventor assured, hands held up in a placating gesture, and set his mug down to stand up from the armchair. "No need to worry though. I don't just jump anybody who seems vaguely likeable", he added, using the words Loki had spoken before (purposefully leaving out the "I am not Fandral"-bit, because even he had that bit of manners). The god undoubtedly noticed and his lips twitched up into a short smile before he gestured for him to come out impatiently while he was already turning around and leaving the room again.
At the doorstep, Tony turned around once again and gave Fandral a slightly helpless-slash-apologetic look. The swordsman just winked at him with a cheeky grin and Tony rolled his eyes. Not helping there, blondie.
Loki practically slammed the door shut, but as soon as it was closed, his shoulders slumped and he leaned against the wall with a heavy sigh. In a low, scornful voice he mumbled: "Oh, how I despise this."
"Okay, okay, I'm sorry, I just got lost in this fucking huge labyrinth of a castle and he bumped into me and invited me over, alright?", the engineer said defensively. "It's not like we did anything, and I had no idea it would upset you so much or I wouldn't have..."
"It's not you, Anthony", the prince interrupted. Oh. That was... more relieving than it should be, actually. "Not completely", he added with a glance towards Fandral's door like that was going to deter the blond from ever abducting Loki's slave again, then continued in a deep voice that was an obvious parody of his father's: "You need to act the way your status requires, Loki. You cannot do that, Loki. Don't you see how Thor did that, Loki. Why can you not be more like Thor, Loki. Why can you not be Thor, Loki."
"I guess dads tend to be like that", Tony mused, drawing Loki's gaze towards him. He shrugged in an attempt at nonchalance and wanted to hide his hands in his pockets, only to find that the leather trousers didn't have any so he ended up tugging at the hem of his tunic. "My father was similar", he elaborated. "I mean, I don't have any older siblings, so there's that, but... I still managed to disappoint him all the time. Whatever I did, it was never enough." He cleared his throat. "Not that it helps now. But, well, I..." He had no idea what to say. Why had he brought that up in the first place? Stupid idea, Tony. "I know what it feels like." The prince was silent and it made Tony feel like he needed to say something more. "Usually working helps me", he offered. "So we could go down to the lab and I could tell you some more stuff or we go outside and you show me some... magic?" When did he end up as Loki's therapist, desperately trying to make him feel more comfortable? Maybe it was because the image of a distressed, upset Loki set him on edge. Loki was calmer than this. He was controlled. A little conversation with his father shouldn't have that sort of effect on him, right?
Except it did, and Tony knew exactly how that felt like, so putting his mind to something else might be just the right thing to do.
The god seemed to consider that for a moment, then he declared: "I think I have a better idea on how to release some tension." Dammit, Fandral, this wouldn't have sounded this wrong before!, Tony thought while desperately trying to keep a straight face. "I wanted to teach you something since the... incident, anyway."
"Yeah? I'm all ears", Tony said. "Hit me."
And Loki did.
No, really. He did. Literally. He took Tony to something that was apparently the Asgardian equivalent for a gym, just outside and bathed in sunlight, and began to systematically teach him to defend himself, starting slowly with some basic movements, some of which the engineer already knew, moving on to more complicated and stressful tricks, which were always fair, but always effective. And then, he tested him. For hours. Until Tony couldn't move anymore and then some longer.
"I'm serious", the inventor forced out, crouched in the sand where Loki had tripped him some moments before. He was gasping for air and drenched with sweat and the prince was absolutely merciless. "I can't... go any further. I'm done."
"You can still talk", Loki stated coldly. "So stand up."
"But I..."
"Stand. Up!"
For a second, Tony froze, startled by the ice in the god's voice. Then, he swallowed thickly and tried to take a deep breath, but he was still wheezing irregularly. His muscles burned and screamed in protest as he forced himself to stand on trembling legs and rubbed a hand over his face, just to grimace afterwards when it came back slick with sweat. He was surprised that he could stand at all and it probably wouldn't need more than a gush of wind to make him collapse again. He was done. There was no way Loki could be missing that.
Taking a deep breath, Tony raised his arms into the position the prince had shown him before. It felt like they were made of lead, as well as his legs as he moved them into a defensive stance. He couldn't go any further. He physically couldn't. He was so done. They had been going for hours.
"Christ, Loki, I'm mortal, there's only so much I can...", he tried again but was cut off another time.
"And still, I cannot help but notice how you are still able to speak", the mage stated indifferently, brushing an errand strand back behind his ear and easily falling into the stance as well. "It's your turn to start." Okay then. Tony let his gaze wander down Loki's body, more to buy some time to catch his breath than actually looking for weaknesses, because one of the first things he'd understood was that while Loki might look relaxed, he was always ready to counter any sort of attack in a split-second. There was just no way to get past his defences in a fair way.
Yeah, you got that one right. Not in a fair way. Remembering a book he had read ages ago, Tony asked: "Did you know the sparrow flies south for the winter?"
Loki frowned in confusion, his hands dropping a bit from where he had been holding them up as he replied: "That has hardly anything to do with –"
Instead of using some complicated and extremely straining technique, Tony hit the prince square on the jaw. His hand felt like he had just punched a solid rock afterwards, but Loki took about half a step back, looking utterly betrayed for a moment before he accused: "That was not fair."
The inventor rocked back on his heels (he had to try a little too hard not to keel over to make it look nonchalant, but he found that for the state of exhaustion he was in, he did a pretty good job) and responded with a cheeky grin: "Firstly, you never told me to fight fair. Secondly, the only thing I did was to point something out that I learned while..." Reading children's books. "...uh, researching. Next time you drop by on Earth, look up Skulduggery Pleasant."
"I... hardly see which part of skulduggery is all that pleasant, but if you say so." Loki's previous coldness had turned into a barely contained smirk that made the corners of his mouth hitch upwards. Then, he took a step towards Tony and the engineer stumbled backwards, raising both hands in front of him.
"Loki, seriously, I'm done. Stop. Give me another minute and I'm literally going to collapse, I'm –"
"I was not attacking you, Anthony."
"Oh." He cleared his throat. "Sorry, but I was still sort of in defence mode. It's what, I dunno, three hours? Of this do to you." He gestured around the sand arena thing they were in, one of several that were mercilessly being shone on by the sun.
"Yes, that is what it is supposed to do", Loki remarked drily, and then, on a more serious note: "I will not see you defenceless again." Oh. That was... that actually made sense, if Loki was even half as protective about his things as Fandral had hinted at. He hadn't actually said anything before, had just dragged Tony out here and started to go through the basics of self-defence with him. And then into less basic and more murderous things. For several hours. In a very practical way.
"O-kay", the engineer said slowly. "So, am I allowed to collapse now? Because I really, really feel like it. I don't really have the palladium out of my system yet – although I guess I've sweated out a lot of it by now. Ugh. Jesus, I feel so disgusting. I'm sticky as hell and..."
"Stop it", Loki laughed, waving a hand to shut the inventor up. "I have, as you would say, 'got the memo'. I would say you can go to your room to clean and change, but judging from past experiences, you would either get lost and starve in some dark corner of the caste – or get picked up by Fandral again. Or collapse halfway there."
"Got it, weak pathetic mortal", Tony grumbled. "Your teleporting thing might come in handy right now."
Loki's reaction surprised him: The god practically winced and his eyes darted around as if he feared that anyone had heard Tony, then he said almost too quiet to catch: "I do not usually make use of my skills when there are too many... warriors around." Again, an almost haunted glance to his surroundings, but the nearest Asgardians were way too far away to possibly hear them, especially as focussed as they were on wrestling each other to the ground. "People do not take magic too well on Asgard."
The comment made Tony think. On the first day he had met Loki, the god had teleported them across two different realms – but then, only Thor and the Warriors Three (plus Sif) were there to witness it. From what he'd picked up so far, Loki's weapon of choice was magic and since he usually fought alongside those five, they were probably well aware of it and he was comfortable using it around them. But if Asgard didn't take it so well – or the warriors specifically because Marianne had not at all seemed deterred by it – then it made sense for him to not use his abilities all that freely. This did seem like a Viking culture and they were all about axes, hammers and shit. The mage with his lean body, the dark hair and the pale skin didn't seem to fit in sometimes, and apparently, his skillset didn't sit too well with the others, so apparently Loki was very self-conscious about his magic.
Which was, frankly, something Tony really didn't understand. No matter how big your axe was, if your enemy could turn invisible or teleport or fancy stuff like that, it wasn't going to help you in the least.
"Well, it's not like I need to understand these... people", he muttered as non-committally as possible, but judging by the prince's raised eyebrows, he knew exactly that Tony had meant to say idiots.
"I could, of course, always carry you", he offered with a crooked smile.
"No way. I'm not that out of it – okay, so maybe I am, but gimme a minute's rest and I'm up and running again", Tony protested and, as if to prove his point, flopped down into the sand. This long-sleeved tunic was going to be the end of him. Who wore long-sleeved clothing for physical exercise anyway?! That was ridiculous. He probably looked like an asthmatic tomato in a sandbox (thank you very much, brain, but I didn't actually need that image)."I'm definitely able to get back to my room now", he decided and used his arms to push himself upright again. He was going to take the longest bath in history and possibly drown because he really felt like falling asleep now that the adrenaline that had come with Oh god, I think Loki is trying to kill me with self-defence had worn off. Okay, short bath then. And bed afterwards.
The prince walked him back inside, away from this giant courtyard, and as soon as nobody was around anymore, he grasped Tony's arm. It sent a fresh jolt of adrenaline through the engineer and he looked up at Loki in surprise, but then the world around him dissipated into a swirl of colours and he was glad that his face was still flushed from exertion because otherwise, his embarrassed blush would have been visible. Of course the god would wait until no-one was watching when he utilized his powers, he had just explained that after all.
Fandral had seriously ruined his way to look at these things.
But even without Fandral's input he maybe would have noticed that Loki's hand rested on his arm for longer than was actually necessary when they stood in his room again, the mage declaring: "I shall have a little training session of my own now – and I think I might invite Fandral to join me."
"We were just having breakfast!", Tony exclaimed, and okay, judging by Loki's teasing little smirk, that had probably come out more defensive than it should have.
"I did not insinuate that anything else has happened", the god still pointed out, although it had already been said more than distinctly by the look he had thrown the inventor before.
"Yeah, well, you... yeah." So eloquent, Tony. So articulate. A masterpiece of a sentence, really. "I'll just shut up and take a bath now."
"Do enjoy yourself." That would not have sounded wrong before Fandral. Loki's hand dropped from his arm now as the prince nodded and headed for the door. Before he opened it, he turned around and added: "And I hope you won't be too sore tomorrow", screw you, Fandral, you're ruining my life, that was not a damn innuendo, "since I plan on continuing our exercises on a daily basis from now on."
"Are you actively trying to kill me?", the inventor lamented with a long-suffering look.
The mage completely ignored the non-seriousness of that question as he answered: "No, I am actively trying to keep you from getting killed." He was out of the door before Tony could think of a good response. Perhaps there was no good answer to something like that.
In an attempt to bring himself to think of something else, he headed for the bathroom and (with no small amount of childish giddiness) used the magical/computer-y controls to fill the tub with steaming hot water. As much as he would love a cold shower under circumstances like this, he a) didn't have a shower and b) wouldn't want to test his reaction to icy water in his face just yet even if he could.
Besides, getting out of his sweaty clothes and washing sand and sweat and dirt off himself did wonders for Tony's aching muscles and there was the distinct advantage of the water in Asgardian bathtubs apparently never getting cold. When he finally mustered the energy to move and soap himself up with the herbal-smelling... call it shower gel, in lack of a better word, hours could have passed and he decided to slip into the (ridiculously soft and comfortable) pyjama thing before flopping down onto the bed face-first. It made him grunt in pain because it also meant that he landed squarely on the reactor, but he was quick to roll over and curl up on his side, damp hair wetting the covers as exhaustion lulled him into a shallow sleep, always bordering on but never quite drifting into complete unconsciousness.
Therefore, the soft knock on the door was the only thing needed to get him to sit up, running a hand through his hair. It was dry already so he must have been laying here for quite some time and it was probably standing into every direction. Well, it wasn't like he needed to dress up to go to sleep, he figured as he called out: "Yeah?" It sounded more drowsy than he had expected and he rubbed his eyes tiredly. A quick glance out of the window told him that the sun was about to set, painting everything in a soft orange that got caught in small, fluffy clouds, making them look like cotton balls that someone had spilled their orange juice on.
Okay, brain, you're definitely too tired for metaphors right now, please stop it. That's like the worst description of clouds I've ever encountered and I wrote a lot of really crappy poems back in high school.
Thankfully, Loki chose that moment to open the door. He didn't fully enter though, but leaned against the door to keep it from closing again while he balanced a tray with several bowls on his hands. With a small smile, he asked: "Would you like to have dinner on the balcony? This looks like it might become a truly wonderful sunset."
"I – sure thing, yeah. On my way." He was in his pyjamas (dark red silk pyjamas, and no-one try to tell him now that Loki wasn't absolutely spoiling him here because that sure as hell wasn't slave standard), half-asleep and had a bedhead and the sun hadn't even gone down yet. What could possibly go wrong?
Ha.
The prince watched him with a glint of fond... something in his eyes as Tony practically crawled out of bed and padded towards him, one hand still rubbing his eyes. Meeting Loki's gaze with a look as challenging as he could manage, he asked: "See something you like?" He blamed it on his still fuzzy brain that he hadn't noticed how that would sound before he said it. Brain-to-mouth-filter, goddammit.
Loki's smile only grew, showing a glint of white teeth now, as he answered: "You look adorable like this."
"Excuse me?", Tony protested, doing his best to sound appalled rather than tired. "I am a grown man and I refuse to be entitled as adorable", he stated, crossing his arms and passing Loki who was still holding the door open, grinning even wider now.
"I think that is open for discussion", the mage decided. "For one, I think..."
"Lalala, can't hear you!", Tony sing-songed with his hands over his ears. "I'm rude and insolent and complicated and too cheeky for my own good, but I'm definitely not adorable. Not even with a bedhead. Seriously, you're the first to call my bedhead adorable. Other people go for incredibly sexy or dishevelled or something, and then there's you and suddenly I'm adorable. We gotta work on that, I mean, like seriously, no-one calls me adorable." And then he noticed that he had said 'incredibly sexy' before and now it sounded like he wanted to say the god just that, which he didn't because he was not flirting with Loki.
Now he was blushing. Oh god, Tony, could you make this worse somehow? This is, like, giving all the wrong signals, you idiot. If you want to flirt, then go for Brenda in the kitchen, not Loki, for heaven's sake! The prince just regarded him with a grin that was so utterly self-content and mirthful that Tony only half-heartedly fought his own smile while they walked down the hallway. He could blame it on being tired later on.
As it turned out, Loki's living room had a really huge balcony attached to it that looked out on the rainbow bridge and the sun setting at the... the... the literal edge of the world. The thought made him chuckle and as a response to the prince's questioning gaze, he explained shortly: "Where I come from", and yes, he chose to use four words to describe it instead of just saying home, "people used to believe the world was a disc for a pretty long time. Which won't seem all that silly to you since you're, well, living on a disc, but our planet is round, elliptic, to be exact. They used to burn people who tried to prove it some centuries ago. And now I'm standing on a disc and I bet you're about to tell you that your sun revolves around the... uh, planet, in lack of a better word, and not the other way 'round. Well, take that one, Galileo." Grinning, he flopped down onto the surprisingly comfortable bench that stood right at the wall, drinking in the sight stretched before him. "This really is beautiful", he admitted, now much more quiet than before.
"Isn't it", Loki just said and handed him a bowl of – good god, was that chilli? Not quite, of course, as vegetables and stuff were pretty different on Asgard, but it tasted similar, the concept seemed to be the same – before he sat down next to him, close, but not too close for comfort.
They ate in silence, watching as the sun slowly vanished over the edge of the world, together with the masses of water flowing down (and how the hell did that work?) into empty space. It didn't take very long, but it was a fascinating to see the colours shifting and casting light onto the endlessly flowing water. No matter how wonderful that was to watch, however, Tony caught himself glancing at Loki several times. The god was staring into empty space with a thoughtful expression, not seeming like he was really watching the sunset. He was stirring the contents of his bowl with his spoon absent-mindedly, but didn't make a move to actually eat anything.
When the last rays of light had disappeared, Tony had eaten up and Loki still hadn't moved, the inventor asked cautiously: "Is something bothering you?"
Green eyes focussed on him as Loki turned his head to the side and answered: "No." It was said so perfectly calm and without any apparent reaction, so that it couldn't be anything but a lie; it was far too smooth to be true. Tony only raised an eyebrow, prompting, but not forcing the prince to go on. For a moment, he held his gaze, then the mage let his head drop back against the wall and said: "Thor is going to be coronated in a month from now. Odin told me today." Got a name for Mean Eyepatch Daddy now, Tony mused. Everything else would inevitably become awkward someday. He still didn't say anything and after a few moments, Loki continued himself, his voice an angry hiss: "I just don't understand! I love my brother, I really do, but he is in no way fit to be a king! He would start a war at any time and enjoy it instead of negotiating, he has no idea about how to properly seal contracts and bargains and he has no patience at all. He is not ready for this, not even in the slightest, and it is ridiculous to assume that he would take this task well. What does he have?" A bitter laugh passed his lips. "The support of Asgard's people, yes. They will stand by him and cheer as he leads them into their demise. I cannot believe that father is doing this. Ageing must have had quite the effect on him."
What could you reply to something like that? Tony had honestly no idea, but still, Loki kept talking.
"It is... I..." He took a deep breath and stared at the stars above him before continuing quietly: "I admit that sometimes, I envy Thor. No matter what he does, to father, it is always right. His mistakes, when Odin even acknowledges them as such, are always forgiveable. All his deeds are great and heroic, and when I accomplish the same or even more, it is written off as unfair and cheated because I use magic." The god balled his fists in his lap. "None of those oafs is able to best me in a fight and they still find ways to claim that I am weaker than them, and if any of their skulls held the intelligence of a rat, Asgard would be a much more sophisticated place. But all they think about is food, mead and bashing each other's heads in." That was probably the royal equivalent to I am surrounded by idiots. Tony tried to recall what he had learned about Thor so far. He seemed sympathetic enough, but while he certainly wasn't stupid, he didn't seem to be the type to over-think his moods before acting on them. Clearly not the best qualification for ruling an intergalactic kingdom. "May the people be ever so foolish, I love Asgard and I would hate to see her fall apart under Thor's inapt rule."
Tony wondered how many people saw that part of Loki. The part that was looking at the stars and wondering why he wasn't good enough for his father if his brother was. The part that wanted to impress Odin and didn't understand how his brother was any better than him. It made Tony ask himself if his life would have been different with a sibling. Would Howard have preferred him or his elder/ younger brother? Or sister? Would Jarvis have a favourite? Somehow, that idea scared him far more than being neglected by Howard. That, he was used to. But what if his sibling would've been like him, just without the bad habits? Without the alcohol, the women, the drugs, the never-ending insolence, but still a genius. Yeah, that would've been Howard Stark's dream child.
Swallowing harshly, he asked: "Isn't there a way to talk some sense into your father? From what I got, it's not the first-born who has to be king, but the one who's the most capable, right? So is it maybe... I dunno, if you can't convince your dad to make you king – because I know neither Thor nor you as good as your father probably does, but from what I saw so far, you're suited a lot better for the job – then at least delay the event? Give Thor some time to get more mature, and... it's probably nothing compared to actually being king, but you could be sort of his right hand?"
"Anthony, I do not want to be king", Loki sighed. "I want to protect Asgard. If it meant taking the throne, I would do it, but that is not my goal. I would be content with aiding Thor if I could be sure he would listen to me, but with that temper of his... he would lead us all into our demise."
"Whoa, that's really pretty gravely here, Lokes", he interjected. "I mean, he won't end the world or something. I'm sure there's something we – I mean, you can do to prevent that from happening. You still got a month and maybe something happens that has the coronation... postponed for a while. Something interrupting the preparations or the ceremony itself so you've got a little while longer to either take care that Thor's ready or you figure something else out that helps you... protect Asgard."
Loki stared at him for a long moment and Tony started to think that maybe he had gone too far with proposing sabotage during a coronation, but suddenly, the mage broke out into a grin and took the engineer's face into his hands, thumbs laying at his ears while the other fingers were splayed over his neck and the back of his head. He felt his cheeks burn bright red and was about to object when Loki declared: "Anthony Edward Stark, you truly are a genius." Then, he leaned forward – and pressed a short kiss onto Tony's forehead before he stood up and rushed inside.
The inventor remained seated on the bench and exhaled with a shudder, clasping his hands together in his lap to prevent himself from touching the spot Loki had kissed or worse, pressing his hands onto his rapidly pounding heart like some woman out of a bad movie.
I am so screwed.