They were a work of art.
Tony took a deep breath, staring at the cuffs that were placed on the workbench before him. They weren't ordinary handcuffs as they had used them at the slave ships; no, they were a web of delicate, black and green metal threads, looking stable and at the same time ornate, fascinating. He stretched the chain between his hands before fastening it first on one part of the cuff, then the other, and mending the chain links so no matter how hard he pulled, they wouldn't come apart again.
With a smile that was equally relieved (because he was finally done with crafting these horrible things) and bitter (because crafting them was necessary), he unlocked them with the small, black key and set it down on the workbench. Then, he slipped the cuffs on and closed them tightly, but not tight enough to cut into his wrists, before experimentally trying to rip the chain apart or slipping out of them again. It didn't work. Of course it didn't, he had made them, after all.
The doors to the workshop opened and Tony turned around with a smile, raising a hand to wave at Loki, but the short chain of the cuffs stopped him.
"Hey there", he greeted, trying to seem nonchalant. "How'd the council meeting go?"
"What are you doing?", the prince asked, completely ignoring his question. His gaze was fixed on the cuffs and, okay, that did have to look weird.
"Call it a field test", Tony answered, shrugging. "For Freyja, it's gotta look like you were actually going to hand me over, right? So there'll be chains. And I'd rather make my own ones than having to go in the standard issue." He shrugged again, trying to make it look less tense than he actually was (while he was probably fidgeting like some kid). He'd learned to act in these past few months, but he wasn't half as comfortable with this as he'd like to let on and Loki knew him. Raising his cuffed hands, he added almost shyly: "I used your colour scheme." Although he knew that that wasn't a bad thing, he kept his gaze fixed at his wrists instead of Loki's expression.
The mage's hands wrapped around Tony's carefully and he felt a small tingle where they touched. Doing his best to ignore that, the engineer forced himself to smile – which wasn't actually all that difficult with Loki in front of him.
"They do look wonderful", the god admitted, albeit hesitantly. "But I..."
"I built in a failsafe as well", Tony cut him off. "So in case things go south, I'll be able to open them. Only in emergencies, of course."
Finally, Loki smiled a real smile as he replied: "A wonderful idea. I honestly do not trust Freyja to keep our bargain, should she catch on with what is happening."
"Me neither", the inventor agreed. "So, if you'd unlock them, please?" He nodded towards the key. "The failsafe is a one-time thing, I'll have to remake the chain if I use it now. And don't give me that look, I know it works, I constructed it, I really don't have to try it out."
"I trust you to know what you are doing", Loki assured while reaching for the small key and turning it over in his hands.
"Honey, I always know what I'm doing", Tony retorted smugly. The god arched an eyebrow in a way of answering and Tony elbowed him in the ribs. "Watch those non-verbal responses. I've got a badass martial arts teacher." Loki huffed and turned the key over in the first lock, his other hand wrapped around Tony's to keep him steady.
The engineer's gaze dropped to their hands as he took notice of the contrast between them – his own skin, having gotten a bit of its old tan back and covered in smudges of oil and ash, and Loki's pale, soft fingers, working magic and paper scrolls rather than hammers and forges.
In the past almost-month, those casual touches had become normality. He was too close to Loki to deny that any longer; nights spent awake on the balcony or in the gardens when Tony did everything to not go to bed because he just knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep soundly – neither of them would talk about the reasons for it, but Loki would willingly stay awake with him.
When he did go to sleep and was jerked awake by a nightmare that made him scream loud enough to wake the prince as well, Loki would be at his side as fast as the distance between their rooms allowed (Tony really needed to ask how he could be heard through that wall sometime). They spent their days in the workshop, the library, the gardens or the castle, reading or working or learning languages or... well, living up to Loki's title as the Trickster. There was always something to do.
They exchanged stories and memories, on Tony's side tentative and careful with those from his old life, as he had come to call it, but he was learning to speak about it without breaking down or being depressed for the whole day afterwards. He was improving. One day, he promised himself, when this whole Freyja-mess is over, I'm going to ask Loki to let me go home. Even if it was just for a visit. He only needed to muster up the courage to do it.
He did, however, never take Loki up on the offer to sleep in the god's bed. That was a level of intimate that he wasn't ready to step up to yet, even if there maybe was a bit more than gratefulness in what he felt for Loki. He tended to avoid those thoughts as much as possible, there was nothing good coming from them.
It wasn't like Tony couldn't see the way the prince looked at him, the way he acted around him. That wasn't just carefulness around a slightly crazed slave – Loki wasn't walking on eggshells around him, no. He was more friendly, more forthcoming, more caring than somebody would be with a normal friend, no matter how precious. But Loki didn't press him. If he knew that Tony had noticed, he never brought it up, he didn't pose uncomfortable questions, he didn't coerce him into anything. There was never anything beyond the comforting hugs at night and, very rarely, the soft kisses onto his forehead when he managed to stun Loki with something, be it knowledge or an idea like in the evening when he had apparently inspired Loki to... to do whatever he did to not let the coronation happen. He still hadn't learned what exactly he planned, he just hoped that it would work.
"Are you still with me?", Loki asked and Tony jumped, noticing that his wrists were free and he was still holding on to Loki's hand.
Pulling it back, he nodded affirmatively. "Sure am." He took the cuffs from Loki and set them down onto the table with a soft clank, the key down next to it, and decided that they should talk about something that wasn't Freyja and the nearing coronation. Tomorrow, the ceremony would take place. Tomorrow. He trusted Loki, he really did, but the thought still made him shiver and had caused more than one nightmare in the past month. I'm gonna be fine. If he kept thinking that, it would become true, right? "You said something about cutting my hair?", he offered as a change of topic.
Loki obviously noticed, Tony hadn't been exactly subtle after all, but he didn't comment on it. Instead, he smiled and nodded, glanced at the cuffs for a last time, and then replied: "Of course." For a moment, he seemed like he wanted to add something and Tony saw his hand twitch upwards by his side, but then, the god just brushed his own black hair back before he turned around and motioned for the engineer to follow him.
Halfway to Loki's room, they heard Thor's voice echoing down the hallway. The mage grabbed Tony by the sleeve and pulled him into the first door that he saw, not caring about what was behind it (luckily, it seemed to be an empty storage room), and snapped it shut behind them. Muffled by the tall golden door, they could hear Thor's loud, deep talking passing them by.
"I cannot stand his trice-damned gloating anymore", Loki hissed with his back against the door. "There is nothing else he talks about. Never before have I seen him this arrogant, and I've known him for over a thousand years and he has never been modest. This is unbearable!" Tony sighed. He didn't meet Thor as often as Loki did, but he had, more often than not, accompanied Loki to his dinners with Thor and his friends. Neither a full mouth nor Loki's continuous eye-rolls had stopped Thor from telling the others over and over again what he was going to do once he was king. It wasn't even anything extraordinary. It was just incredibly annoying.
"I know what you mean", he muttered. What he didn't say was that he would probably have more than a little fun seeing Thor... well, not becoming king. The elder prince's continuous, boisterous attitude was getting on his nerves and it would probably do him good to get a damper put upon that awfully good mood of his. Not that Tony would get any malicious glee out of that in any way, no.
Well, in his defence, he was pretty much living with the trickster god. There was bound to be an influence on him, wasn't there?
"Think they're gone now?", he asked once the voices out in the hallway had faded. Loki hesitated, but nodded shortly after, muttering something about how he couldn't sense Thor's energy anywhere nearby as he quietly opened the door again. Indeed, the corridor was empty now, and he could hear Loki sigh in a mixture of annoyance and relief before they continued their way.
The prince stayed quiet, but before they reached the royal wing of the castle, three warriors found themselves stumbling because their shoelaces were, all of sudden, miraculously tied together, one fountain splashed water all over a room full of nobles and two chattering ladies burst into shrieks when the jewellery in their hair turned into very much alive frogs which hopped away with indignant croaking. Tony just smiled to himself. Loki had his very own ways of releasing frustration. And apparently, they did work, for by the time they arrived, the prince was smiling again.
"Shall we get to work then?", he asked, opening the door to his room, and Tony entered with a nod. When he had first seen these rooms just over a month ago, he had been almost crazy with dread and apprehension of what was going to happen. He had feared Loki, feared that he was like those before him or even worse, feared that one wrong word would destroy every pretence of friendliness that this god held upright so far.
Now, there was no hesitation when he entered the chamber and moved towards the bathroom while Loki picked up a pair of scissors before following him. Tony looked around curiously – he'd never seen more of Loki's rooms than the ante-chamber with the desk, books and armchairs and the smaller room with the bed and even more scrolls and bookshelves. It was like a mini-library, really. The bathroom wasn't all that different from Tony's, just a bit larger and with more bottles and ointments. How did Loki even use all of those?
The inventor turned around to look at Loki, who was just closing the door behind himself, and then glanced back at the large tub. A grin spread on his face when he imagined Loki in steaming-hot water, massaging some lotion into his hair, his pale face and chest flushed with the heat as – no, no, Tony, wrong train of thought, that's not where this was supposed to go, he interrupted himself.
In lack of a better option, he sat down cross-legged on the floor and listened to Loki rummaging through a drawer, watching the god's reflection in the mirror before him. After some moments, he produced an ornate, silver comb and turned towards Tony, meeting his eyes in their reflection and giving him a soft smile. The engineer returned it and watched as Loki knelt down behind him. Gently, he began to work out knots and tousled strands, carding his fingers through Tony's hair (more than was probably strictly necessary, but it wasn't like he was complaining) all the while.
After some minutes, Tony closed his eyes and leaned back into Loki's touch, completely submitting himself to the mage's ministrations which continued to a point where Loki wouldn't be able to find a single hair out of place even if he tried.
Admittedly, Tony hadn't expected to get his hair cut by Loki himself. He was grateful for it, though – he didn't really trust other people with pointy objects around him yet. It still set him on edge. Loki was, like for so many other things, the exception. He was probably pretty much the only person whom he would let wield a pair of shiny, sharp scissors near his face without panicking.
In a quiet voice, because he felt like everything else would break the peaceful atmosphere, he answered Loki's questions about how he wanted the haircut and closed his eyes once again when they lapsed back into silence, the only sound being the snapping of the scissors and their calm breathing. Tony kept his eyes closed during the whole process which made his other senses all the more attentive. He felt the cut hairs brushing his skin when they fell down to the ground, felt every time Loki's fingers brushed against his neck, heard every movement of the scissors and was hyper-aware of the silence when it stopped.
For a minute or two, he felt the prince's hands running through his hair, removing loose ones and smoothing out Tony's tousled hair, snapping another strand now and then. After a while, those little corrections ceased and he just kept up the gentle touches, not breaking the silence. It made Tony sleepy and at some point, he leaned back against Loki's chest, still not opening his eyes.
The prince's movements stilled for a moment and Tony tensed minutely, afraid that he would somehow object to the change in posture, but then the god just shifted a bit behind Tony's back, adjusting more comfortably, and returned to his careful ministrations. At some point, one of his hands came to rest on Tony's shoulder and both of them just enjoyed the peace and the quiet of the moment.
His mind told Tony disconcertingly vehement that there wouldn't be any moments like this one in quite some time.
But they had thought of everything, hadn't they? There was a nice, wonderful hole in Loki's and Freyja's verbal contract, Loki was there to stp in in case something went wrong, and if both of those didn't work out, his cuffs still had a failsafe. Also, Loki had trained him to defend himself. That didn't mean he would be able to stand his ground against immortals, but he'd have the element of surprise which could mean a lot. There was nothing that could go wrong.
"Are you alright?", Loki asked quietly, right next to Tony's ear.
Tony jumped and opened his eyes. His own reflection stared back at him and he felt his breath catch in his throat when he saw it. His hair hadn't been that long before, but now, it was back to its unruly, tousled curls, a look that he had pulled off for years back on Earth. It was like gazing into a mirror that allowed him to see his own past – except that there was still the scar on his cheek, thin and white, a reactor in his chest, and he was wearing Asgardian clothing and leaning back against Loki's chest in an alien bathroom.
"Yeah," he answered, a little belatedly, "I'm fine." He took a closer look at himself in the mirror, still getting used to the change. "Thank you," he muttered quietly.
Loki tightened his grip on the inventor's shoulder in response and then slowly got up, leaving it to Tony to follow in his own time. With a regretful sigh, the engineer pushed himself up from the floor and tousled his hair with his hands, causing a few last stray hairs to flutter away from him. Only then he remembered that the cut hair was all over his tunic anyway and brushed his shoulders off as good as he could at the moment. Well, he'd bath later, anyway.
"Well then," he said with an exhale, "two more days. You got something to do today?"
"There is a coronation forthcoming and you ask me whether I have something to do?", Loki huffed. "Of course I do. But I can think of much more entertaining ways to spend my time." He smirked mischievously. "And I am quite adept at avoiding my duties, so..." An innocent shrug was followed by a gesture towards the door. "The day is ours."
Going to bed that night came with a horrible feeling of finality. Tony knew that Loki had taken care everything, that he had planned and plotted and prepared, and if something went wrong, Tony hadn't been exactly idle either, and still...
Still, he was turning around in bed to stare at the sky outside because sleep just wouldn't come to him. He was nervous, anxious, and no amount of reassuring thoughts would turn that off. There was nothing that sounded more wonderful than sleep right now; the afternoon had been filled with sparring, Loki making him go through everything they'd practised over and over again, and Tony hadn't been this exhausted in a long time. Nonetheless, his mind wouldn't settle down.
With a sigh, he slipped out from under the covers and padded over to the window on his bare feet, leaning his forehead against the glass and watching as his breath fogged the view of Asgard's golden glow below. The streets were still buzzing with activity. Apparently, he wasn't the only insomniac tonight. An incoming coronation of a god would do that to a city.
Tony turned around and strolled over to the desk standing at one of the walls. By now, a handful of books lined the originally empty shelf and there were some actual paper scrolls on the tabletop, so, in a lack of something better to do, the inventor lighted the two candles on the desk and started to read the scrolls, muttering (or, more precisely, stuttering) Norse syllables under his breath while he tried to grasp the meaning of what the text tried to tell him. Probably something like you're too dumb to get this anyway, why are you even still trying? He couldn't concentrate, the runes were swimming over the paper and he forgot what he had just read as soon as he moved on to the next word.
He needed sleep, he really did, but it wasn't going to come anytime soon if he couldn't calm his mind. Even the training with Loki had only partly succeeded in doing that. So how would he get his mind off things like coronations and Freyja and failing failsafes and possible risks so he could get at least some rest?
Well. There was one offer that did probably still stand...
Tony, no, he berated himself. Definitely not. Just out of protest, he returned to the bed and curled up on his side.
He didn't need help falling asleep. He wasn't scared to fall asleep because it would mean that the next day would be there faster. He wasn't scared of Freyja. He wasn't scared of the five hundred thousand things that could go wrong. He wasn't going to go over to Loki like some child scared by a nightmare. He was above things like that. Just like he wasn't scared.
"Fuck," he muttered against the mattress. With something akin to defeat, he sat up, threw the blanket to the side and left his room quietly. It was almost eerily quiet and the quiet sound of his own feet on the marble floor only intensified the atmosphere of a child sneaking to his parents' bedroom after a nightmare. The thought made him feel so silly that he stood in front of Loki's door another three minutes, his feet seemingly turning to ice as he contemplated whether he was really going to go in there or just turn around and leave again.
Eventually, he heaved an irritated sigh. It wasn't too hard to enter a damn room, was it?
With probably more determination than would have been necessary, he pushed the heavy golden door open and slipped inside, surprised when he found the room alight with a soft, light green glow. Loki was laying on his back on the bed, one arm pillowed behind his head and the hand of the other one lazily moving in the air above him like a conductor's, just that there were no musicians he was directing, but a small group of glowing green figures. That's the Asgardian equivalent for cinema, then, Tony thought in the split-second that it took for the prince to notice him and the magical light-show to vanish as Loki's arm dropped onto his chest.
"Hey," Tony greeted with a small half-wave and just stood in the doorframe for a moment, self-consciously fiddling with his sleeves and avoiding Loki's gaze. Staring at the sky outside, he muttered: "So, you said that... I mean, it would be possible to..." He sighed, exasperated with himself, and settled for: "I couldn't sleep."
"I see," Loki replied carefully, moving to get up. He gestured towards his desk and suggested: "We could..."
"No," the inventor interrupted, shaking his head. "I don't want to stay awake tonight. I'm completely exhausted and I really just wanna go to sleep, but... maybe not..." Not alone. He shrugged. "I mean, if you're okay with it, I'd just..."
With a small smile, but thankfully without any word, Loki lifted the blanket a little, putting an end to the engineer's stammering, and Tony nodded. With a few steps, he was at the prince's bedside and slipped under the covers, keeping about an arm's length of distance between them. There was the quiet rustle of fabric when Loki settled in, laying on his side to face Tony, but not trying to get closer or speaking up. Not pressuring. Not expecting him to do anything.
Tony closed his eyes and focussed on breathing regularly. Shit. Why had he thought that this would be a good idea? He was acting like a terrified little child, he was humiliating himself, this might be the most embarrassing thing he'd done since he'd come here. Get a grip on yourself, you're a grown-up, Tony, he scolded himself. He couldn't leave now, he ought to just calm down, sleep, forget about this in the morning and hope that Loki wouldn't laugh at him openly.
"Breathe," the prince's voice cut through the heavy silence in the room.
"I am breathing," Tony muttered, but he had to admit that he had barely noticed that he had gone completely tense, his hands clenched into fists, his eyes squeezed shut and knees pulled up halfway to his chest.
"I would rather call that hyperventilating," Loki replied drily, but without malice in his tone.
"Don't be smart with me. You're a Viking god, you're not even supposed to know words like that," the engineer grumbled, opening his eyes to meet the slightly amused gaze directed at him. "And I see what you did there." Talking helped, even if he was only rambling, and Loki knew him well enough by now to remember that. Closing his eyes in defeat, he muttered: "Could you just tell me to relax and that I'll be okay and don't have to worry? Because I tried it myself, but maybe you'll be more convincing." He'd just hope that he'd miraculously forget this before morning came.
"You will be fine," the mage immediately responded and Tony wanted to laugh at himself for the way he relaxed as soon as Loki's hand curled around his clenched fist. "We have covered all the eventualities, have we not? There is no need for you to worry. You will be fine, I promise."
Tony blinked up at him tentatively taking a deep breath, and nodded with a barely audible "'kay then." That was as close to calm as he would get tonight. With his heart pounding in his chest, he turned his back towards Loki. He could practically feel the upcoming question in the air, so he quickly ordered, "Sh. No. Don't talk", while he shuffled backwards on the mattress.
After a moment, Loki understood and carefully wrapped an arm around the inventor's waist. Tony willed himself not to tense up; after all, he had initiated this, he knew that Loki didn't have any bad intentions, he could get out of here at any given time. With those thoughts in mind, he squirmed until he felt the prince's chest against his back and closed his eyes again, settling in with the warmth behind him and a mixture of contentment and oh god, please don't let him feel my pulse right now.
Despite that, he was asleep in a matter of minutes.
What woke him up wasn't even a nightmare, but Loki trying to push him off his chest without waking him up. Tony blinked tiredly, confused by the fact that it was still dark and Loki wanted to get up. Why would he want to get up at such ungodly hours? With stubborn, sleepy attachment, he fisted his hands in the prince's silk pyjama and buried his nose in the crook of Loki's neck, closing his eyes with the firm resolution of continuing to sleep.
A quiet chuckle sent vibrations through the god's ribcage and he quietly asked: "Are you awake?" Tony made an inarticulate sound and tried to clasp his hand over Loki's mouth. Why wouldn't he just go back to sleep? Something warm was pressed to his temple – lips? – and the mage carefully pulled the inventor's hands off his pyjamas. "Sleep a little longer, dear," he whispered and slipped out from under the covers.
Tony rolled over onto his other side, basking in the residual warmth for just a little longer as he pulled the blanket up to his ears, curling up around a pillow. He found that it was no suitable substitute for Loki.
Blinking, he slowly came to awareness. Wait. Loki's quiet footsteps moved around in the other room as Tony sat up groggily. Who am I, where am I, and why this early? Slowly, he shook his head and ran a hand through his hair. He felt surprisingly well-rested, having slept through the night without interruption. Then, he remembered why he had come here in the first place. It was Coronation Day.
Now that he had started thinking about that, he wouldn't be able to fall asleep again anyway. One part of him was glad that it was finally time and he could get all of this over with, but another part of him was terrified and kept trying to calculate the fastest way to the Bifröst by foot. That plan ended as soon as he was standing face-to-face with Heimdall, but whatever.
With a head-shake, he swung his legs off of the bed and got up, rubbing his eyes and trying to force himself into awareness. He'd need all of his composure today if he didn't want to screw things up. He shuffled towards the room where Loki kept his armours and clothing, rapped his knuckles against the doorframe and called out: "Mornin'. I'm going to my room to get changed and everything."
"I shall come for you when it is time to depart," came Loki's response from behind the door and Tony could tell by his choice of words that he was starting to adjust to the princely role he would have to be in today. No swearing, no light jokes, no casual language. Prince Loki was going to see Thor (not) become king, not the sassy, pranks-playing, warm-hearted person that Tony was used to.
"Right, you do that," Tony replied, just to say something, and turned around to leave for his own chamber after a short hesitation. A glance out of the window told him that the sun was only barely peeking over the horizon. "What the hell is up with these early risers? I mean, why would I get up this early out of my own free will, that's ludicrous," he grumbled to himself. "It's not like you could have a coronation in the evening, no, it's gotta be before midday so everybody has to get up early and shit. Look, my respect for our future king is so big, I don't even need sleep anymore. Jeez."
He bathed, figuring that he had gotten up early enough for that, and used the hot water to help his tense muscles relax once more. It's gonna be fine felt hollow and over-used by now, but there was nothing else he could really reassure himself with. He dressed up in Loki's colours, wearing one of the green tunics with the golden embroidery, and when the prince knocked on his door, Tony was freshly shaven, washed and as ready as he would ever be. Also, the sun was up now, which was definitely an improvement.
"Hey there," he greeted, pulling the door open, "let's... wow." Loki, standing with a small grin in front of his door, was wearing his full armour, complete with layers of black leather, gold, greens and an honest-to-god cape. He'd been wearing a similar outfit back when he had bought Tony on the market, but this was even more ceremonial, more impressive. The helmet (right, Horny Helmet had been what Tony had first dubbed him – he could definitely see why) was tugged under his arm.
Realizing that he had spend a probably inappropriately long time just staring Loki up and down, the engineer cleared his throat and asked: "Right. Looking impressive there, Dasher. So, we're gonna hit the workshop now?" He raised his hands to indicate that they still had to fetch the cuffs.
"Of course," Loki replied with a nod. "We still have about half an hour before we need to be at the throne room." He laid a hand onto Tony's upper arm and a second later, they appeared in the workshop.
"Thanks, Mr Potter," the inventor said, "but warn me next time before apparating, will you?" Admittedly, it wasn't half as bad as the first time around; he had gotten used to the sensation because it was Loki's usual method of transportation if he was in a hurry or just didn't feel like walking. It seemed that the god had long since given up hope to understand Tony's pop culture references since he only raised an eyebrow, but didn't bother asking.
The engineer didn't really feel like explaining either as he stepped up to the workbench where the artfully crafted handcuffs waited for him. He picked them up, turning them over in his hands, taking a last glance at the barely visible flaw in the chain – his failsafe, his last resort – before he turned to Loki and held the cuffs out, swallowing thickly.
"Well then," he said hoarsely. "Let's get on with the game."
Loki nodded slowly, set the helmet down on a table and approached Tony, taking one of the inventor's hands in his and snapping the cuff shut around his first wrist, then the second one. Then, he just stared at their joined hands, Tony mimicking the action. His heart was pounding with nervousness, fear, apprehension, but also something... else.
He raised his head at the same time that Loki did and their eyes met. Just when Tony was about to gather the courage to say something, the god began: "Anthony, please remember that everything I say in front of Freyja serves the purpose of convincing her that you are not as important as... as you are. She..."
"I know, I know," Tony interrupted, squeezing the prince's hands. "We'll be fine. I know you've got a role to play."
Loki nodded with a smile. "And you..."
"Shht, quit talking, you're gonna make me even more nervous," the inventor cut him off, shaking his head. "I know we can do this, I know, you..." He tried a smile and at least partly succeeded. "You promised, after all."
There was something between them in that moment, something fragile and hesitant. Something that Tony was afraid would shatter if he did the wrong thing right now. Something in the way Loki looked at him, his eyes sincere and holding the promise of it will be okay and so much more.
For once, just for that moment, Tony didn't think twice, didn't question his own actions, didn't restrain himself with morals and profound ideas and his own protests. He stepped forward, just following what his feelings dictated, even closer into the mage's space. He didn't even try to ignore his heart fluttering up into his throat as he got onto his tiptoes and pressed his lips against Loki's in a determined kiss, born out of the intimacy of the moment that the god's comfort had created, out of the feeling that this might be the last chance in a long time to do this, out of the desperate need to have more than just Loki's hands around his.
For a moment, the prince tensed in surprise and Tony almost prayed, don't tell me I misread everything in the past month, but then, Loki practically melted into the kiss with a soft sigh, leaning down and letting go of Tony's hands so he could move his own to the inventor's neck to pull him closer. It left Tony, with his wrists cuffed, to clutch at the front of the armour, but in its very own way, this was still perfect. He felt warm, safe, and at the same time he was excited because up until now, he had vehemently tried to ban every thought related to this. Now, he just basked in the feeling it brought. It was perfect.
Well, it was, until Loki suddenly shoved him away and choked out: "Stop. Don't, Anthony." Tony stared at him with wide eyes, panic starting to build. I fucked this up, shit, I just misread everything and now I made it awkward and he... "You don't have to do this." The inventor blinked, trying to catch up with Loki. The prince was staring at him, cheeks flushed and eyes bright, but an expression on his face that looked like he was about to cry. But I don't kiss that badly, do I? "There is no... payment I want from you, I would protect you no matter what, I do not expect you to..."
"Oh," Tony uttered when he understood what this was about. "No, I didn't... that's not what I meant, Loki, dammit. No way. I didn't do that because I thought you wouldn't protect me otherwise or something if you didn't get compensation for it." He raised his cuffed hands in a gesture of reassurance while he was talking. "God, no. I did that because I wanted to." He nodded as if to confirm it to himself. "I don't take you as a person who would demand that sort of payment for a favour. I really just wanted to."
Loki was silent for another moment, the tension slowly bleeding out of his body, vanishing together with the mortified expression on his face. Quietly, almost disbelievingly careful, he asked: "But why would you..." His voice trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished.
Tony would like to be able to name the exact moment that had caused him to fall for Loki. Maybe, on some sub-conscious level, it had been from the very beginning – when he had realized that Loki treated him as a person, not another piece of furniture. Maybe it had been the afternoon in Vanaheim (before the Freyja-disaster), just riding alongside the prince and exchanging knowledge and theories, working his mind again. Maybe it had been Loki's fierce determination to keep him alive even when Tony himself had given it up already, the nights in the workshop and the look in Loki's eyes when he had seen the new reactor. Maybe it had been the morning when he had brought Loki breakfast and seen the mage dishevelled from sleep, adorably unguarded. Maybe it were the hours spent in the library, on the sparring grounds, in the gardens, on the balcony, out in the fields with the horses. Maybe it had been the last night, when he had learned, albeit slowly and hesitantly, to accept Loki's offer of comfort on a new level. He couldn't tell, but it probably wasn't that important, was it?
"Because I wanted to," he repeated. "It wasn't any sort of payment or assurance that you'd stick t what we said, I trust you to do that anyway. But I felt like I... well, I felt like it and I assumed that you'd like it, too, so I just..." He shrugged, staring at a table, partly uncomfortable because of the turn that the situation had taken, but also partly relieved because it felt like a huge weight had been taken from his shoulders. Maybe this is what coming out of the closet comes like, he thought to himself with a wry little twist to his mouth. "Could we just... talk about this sometime that is not now?"
"I see," Loki replied slowly. "Of course." He paused. "Would you want to try again, then?"
Tony glanced up at him, a smile forming on his lips that only widened when he saw the expression mirrored on the prince's face. He stepped closer again and held on to the lapels of Loki's coat as he tilted his head upwards. This time, his lips were met halfway through the motion and Loki was subtly taking control, leaning forward a little more than during the first time, his hands on the engineer's waist to pull him a little bit closer, adding a tease of tongue along Tony's lips. He was leading, but not demanding, always leaving room for the inventor to protest. Which he didn't, just for the record. Not at all.
When they parted, both slightly out of breath, Loki was smiling softly and Tony found himself mirroring the expression.
"We should," he gestured towards the door and cleared his throat, "we should probably be going, I guess. Talking – later." Loki nodded affirmatively and reached around Tony to snatch the key from the table. The inventor watched as it vanished into Loki's handy little pocket dimension and then, the god stepped back, breathed in and out deeply and schooled his features into an impassive, regal expression.
"Well then," he said, smoothing a strand of hair back and pulling the helmet on, "I suppose it is time."
"Indeed," Tony confirmed in a gravely voice, just to see Loki break character and chuckle for a second. He ran his hands through his hair, smoothed his tunic out and straightened up. Now, he was going to trick a goddess, and he better be good for that.
He followed Loki with a feeling of contentment and confidence that hadn't been there before, and he had to try really hard to suppress his smile. It wouldn't be very convincing if he, a slave about to be sold, would be grinning like some goofy idiot on his way there. No, not really. He had to get out of I kissed a god-mood and into I'm about to be sold out completely against my will-mood. It wasn't as easy as he had thought it would be.
They entered a small antechamber, probably something like the backstage of the throne room. A fire was casting dancing shadows onto the wall and Thor was walking up the hallway. A last time, Loki turned around and pressed a quick kiss to Tony's forehead, telling him to wait there, before he slipped out to his elder brother. Tony shuffled a little bit so he could see the two without stepping out of the shadows.
Loki walked up to Thor and the two came to stand next to each other, silent for a moment. After some seconds, the younger god turned and asked: "Nervous, brother?"
"Have you ever," Thor laughed, "known me to be nervous?"
"Well," the mage replied innocently, "there was the time in Nornheim..."
"That was not nervous, brother, that was the rage of battle," Thor quickly interrupted. Tony smirked to himself, just as Loki muttered a slightly ironic "Ah, I see." The thunderer continued: "How else have I fought my way through a hundred warriors and brought us out alive?"
Loki frowned and Tony briefly attempted to cross his arms before he remembered his cuffs. He settled for clenching his fists as Loki replied: "As I recall, I was the one who concealed us in smoke so we could escape."
Thor laughed, agreeing heartily: "Oh, yes. Some do battle, others just do tricks." The inventor, safely hidden behind the golden curtains, gritted his teeth. During meals with Thor and his little fellowship, he had already noticed how the elder brother kept taking credits for Loki's actions – albeit not having been present for the battles and situations that the blond's stories described, Tony had always been more open to hearing Loki's version of them.
The servant, who had stepped up to Thor with a goblet with some drink of sorts, chuckled at the blond god's depreciating comment and Tony almost (but not really) felt sorry for the guy when Loki's icy glare turned towards him. There was a distinct movement of the mage's wrist and Tony had to bite his lip to suppress a giggle when he saw the servant's eyes go wide as saucer plates, staring down into the goblet, until he dropped it with a yelp. Three small, poisonous-looking snakes sidled away over the marble floor.
Loki didn't bother with stifling his laughter, while Thor complained in an exasperated tone: "Loki." It seemed to amuse the trickster even further. "Well, that was just a waste of good wine."
With wide, innocent green eyes, his younger brother responded: "Oh, just a bit of fun." His gaze locked on the servant again. "Right, my friend?" With another flick of his wrist, the snakes disappeared, and the man poorly faked a laugh (he really looked more terrified than amused) before he bent down to pick up the tray and goblet. Loki and Thor exchanged fleeting glances and both snickered with the familiarity of persons who had known each other's antics for centuries.
Thor's silver helmet was handed to him and Tony saw Loki glance down on it, then up at Thor, before the younger god commented: "Oh. Nice feathers."
"You don't really want to start this again, do you, cow?", Thor responded with a victorious grin.
"I was being sincere!", Loki defended himself.
"You are incapable of sincerity," the elder god immediately shot back. Tony winced behind the curtain.
"Am I?", the mage asked, turning towards his brother.
"Yes," came the reply, without a second of hesitation.
This time, Loki took a moment before he answered: "I have looked forward to this day as long as you have." Tony grimaced. One point for Thor there, actually. "You are my brother and my friend – and sometimes, I am envious..." The inventor cringed. Heartfelt brotherly talk – if Thor would only get how much truth was behind Loki's words. "...but never doubt I love you." The younger god's voice had died down to a whisper and Tony wondered if this was some sort of apology in advance for whatever he had plotted to prevent the coronation.
Thor was silent for a moment, an open smile spreading on his face, before he clasped his hand around his younger brother's neck and replied: "Thank you."
"Now give us a kiss," Loki demanded, breaking the atmosphere that had been building between the two.
"Oh, stop it," Thor laughed and they both turned towards the exit again, grins slowly fading as they breathed in and out deeply. "Now, it is time, isn't it?"
"Go ahead," the mage said, gesturing towards the entrance. When his elder brother didn't move, he urged: "Off with you, this is your big day. I will be there in a minute."
Loki waited until Thor nodded, flashed another grin and was climbing the stairs; then, he turned towards Tony and gave him a small, reassuring smile. The inventor returned it and after a moment, Loki breathed in deeply and followed his brother, cape billowing behind him. He's totally been practising that. Tony watched him go and listened to the crowd cheering outside. He could hear some sort of dialogue between Thor and another person, presumably Odin, that abruptly stopped after a minute. It didn't feel quite right, especially since the chattering and talking in the hall had died down, and Tony cocked his head to catch every sound that came from the throne room.
After some seconds, he heard Odin say, "Frost Giants" in a grave, dark voice. It was followed by some more seconds of silence before turmoil broke out in the hall.
Tony contemplated stepping out into the room, but there would probably be chaos right now. Loki had told him to stay here – and maybe, these 'Frost Giants' were part of the mage's plan? He had to trust him on this. If Freyja was somewhere down there in the crowd, she'd have a really hard time reaching him up here, anyway.
In the same second he thought that, a sugary-sweet female voice right fucking next to his ear drawled: "Anthony, darling-dear, it's time to go."