A/N: I'm glad no one minds my angst, lol. I should have labeled this H/C. I'm listening to "Battle Scars" by Lupe Fiasco.

Third Installment: Best Left Unsaid

"Have you thought about naming yourself?"

She looked up from her careful picking of the bell-shaped flowers that grew up the trunks of trees. "Naming myself?" she repeated, both surprised and confused. "I'm the Aether. That is my name."

"Nope. That's what you are. I'm a human, you're the Aether."

Tony Stark was such a strange, unpredictable, wonderful man. She genuinely loved him. She loved him because he loved Loki, and precious little made her beloved happy. He hadn't smiled even once until Stark came to this forest. To their cabin. To their lives. Hopefully to stay, this time. She shrugged, carefully clipping leaves and blossoms off the vine.

"I've never thought about it. I always had too much to do."

"Well, now I'm here, princess. That means you've got more time. So. What d'you want me to call you?"

Frowning, she concentrated. She'd never had a name. Never even wanted one. "I . . . I don't know. What would you name me?"

He pursed his lips. "That's a good question. Tell you what, let's both think on it. Hm?"

She beamed him a grin. "Okay!"

He snorted softly, leaning down and brushing her face with callused fingers. The fingers of a craftsman. An inventor. A warrior. "That's a good girl. Now, tell me what I can do."

Looking around, she considered. "You could gather wood for kindling. If we're having meat, I need to build a fire in the pit by the pond. We don't cook meat in the cabin. Loki doesn't like the smell." She did. She loved all smells, because it was so maddeningly wonderful to be able to smell.

There was only one smell in all existence she didn't like.

"All right-y then. Don't wander off too far now, princess."

She laughed silently. "I'm ever so much older than you, Tony. I'm older than your entire world."

He tapped her right on the nose. "I only see a little girl. Now do as I say."

Still laughing, she went back to gathering the bell-shaped flowers. They were a surprisingly rich orange in color, and they had a thick nectar that, when crushed up with the flowers, made a sticky balm that soothed Loki's pain.

"Aether," Tony said after a moment, holding a few thick twigs, "what's it been like for you and him?"

Nibbling at her lower lip, her brow furrowed in thought. "It's been easy for me. I don't need food, water, sleep, air, or shelter. I don't have any physical needs, so I could be fine anywhere. Top of a mountain, bottom of an ocean."

There was a hesitation. "And for Loki?"

Her hands fell still into her lap. "Much harder," she admitted. "He couldn't even move. He would scream and scream until his voice died and his throat bled." She closed her eyes. "When I extracted Mad Titan's seiðr from his body . . . his heart stopped. His lungs went silent. I had to breathe for him. For days."

Tony's silence was heavy. When she turned to look up at him, he was staring across the forest with peculiarly vacant eyes. Then he swallowed thickly. "What do you mean by that?"

She picked another flower, movements slow and deliberate. "I poured energy into him. I made his lungs imitate the action of breathing so oxygen would continue to channel into his blood and his brain. But it was unnatural, so even that hurt him . . ." She was not accustomed to feeling pain or grief, but she relished them.

Because in spite of how horrible it had been, she had prevailed. She'd saved her beloved Loki.

He was damaged, but Tony was here now. He could help her.

"Tell me more," Tony commanded softly, still not looking at her. "Tell me what Thanos did to him."

She shook her head. "I don't know. Loki blocked all of that from me. From the moment he truly regained consciousness, he sealed it tightly away."

Tony made a vexed sound. "What happened after you purged that asshole's seiðr from Loki?"

Her thoughts wandered back to that time. "I had hoped he would start to recover his own. But that golden energy inside him . . . I could not purge it. It doesn't belong inside him, but it won't leave. It is poisoning him."

"Why is that so bad?" Tony asked. "I mean, it's all magic, so why does it matter?"

She gave him a pointed look. "Does a deer's blood belong in your body?"

"No," he said with a slightly rueful smile. Then, "Can he still use magic?"

"Only a very little. And he doesn't say so, but I know it causes him pain when he does. It hurts him to channel that gold energy." She felt heat rise behind her eyes. "I hate it. I would destroy it if I could. I would tear it out of him and crush it between my hands until it screamed and writhed and died!"

o0o

It was sheer force of will that kept Tony from recoiling from the Aether as her eyes went black. No more whites, irises, or pupils. Just liquid black, a glowing light that reflected none back. Okay, best to remember she really ain't a little girl. "I'd help," he muttered.

The black settled as she flashed him a grin best described as cheeky. "I'd let you."

He snorted. "What do you mean when you say he's damaged?"

She shook her head. "Inside. He's . . . damaged."

"But what do you mean?"

She gave him a look best described as helpless. "It's as if . . . as if something's missing. Mad Titan damaged him. More than his body. His mind. What used to make him . . . himself. It's damaged." She spread her hands and shrugged, looking for all the world like a lost child.

Tony remembered something Thor had said. Months ago. Something Hel had told him. That Loki may never use magic again. He felt a shudder run up his spine and wondered if that was the reason his lover couldn't regenerate his . . . Seiðr. The word felt foreign in his mind and on his tongue.

"Tell me more."

She shrugged again. "After I extracted Mad Titan's filth, I removed the crystal rod. The wound didn't heal for a month. And the wounds on his body, it took them a month or longer to heal, too. I built that cabin during the times Loki wasn't delirious or entire body writhing in pa—"

"Aether."

Tony jumped to hear Loki's voice.

Aether did not, but her eyes swirled more black than red, though it was different than her fury. She looked . . .

Sad.

"I asked you to hunt for us." His voice wasn't hard, but it was frozen. Slivers of ice, carving into flesh softly. Quietly.

"Loki—" Tony began.

Loki silenced him with a look, eyes glacial.

Aether stood up, leaving her basket of flowers where it was. "I'll be right back," she said. She looked at Tony's hands. "I'll need more wood than that, Tony." In moments, she had disappeared into the dense foliage of the forest.

Tony turned to face Loki. "Don't be mad at her."

"I'm not."

"And don't get mad at me," Tony said, trying not to sound defensive.

Loki met his eyes, his gaze even, betraying nothing. "I should refrain from being angry with you when you pry information you did not receive from me out of another?"

Tony grimaced inwardly. I'd really rather hoped you never found out . . . "I didn't pry. We want to help you."

The god held his gaze for long, painful seconds. The more time passed, the more Tony found himself wishing Loki would get mad. That he'd yell or threaten bodily harm. That his eyes would burn with the heat of his rage. That he'd look torn between forgiveness and homicide. Any of that, all of that would be better than this. This expression. Those glassy, empty eyes. That frozen, closed face. The posture that wasn't rigid with anger nor relaxed with the promise of approaching good humor.

This was . . .

This was . . .

Nothing.

Finally, with an abruptness that left Tony feeling slightly sucker-punched, Loki turned away and walked toward the cabin. "She's right," he said. "You will need more wood than that."

Tony almost threw the sticks down on the ground and ran after Loki. He wanted to crush his lover to him, to kiss his frozen mouth until it melted, until Loki was putty in his hands, moaning. Something warned him to stay away from the green-eyed god. Closing his eyes for a second, he swallowed thickly.

Where was his Loki? The charmingly demented god who'd thrown him out of a window? The sarcastic and arrogant god who considered humans so beneath him but tolerated Tony with wicked smirks? The one whose voice was silky and sexy as fucking hell and dangerous as a natural disaster capable of destroying a whole fucking planet? Where was the anger, the pride, the wicked delight, the evil smirk, the smug superiority?

He's damaged. Aether's words ran around and around in his head. Oh, Loki. What did that fucking asshole do to you?

o0o

The Aether came back before Stark did, carrying an enormous deer over her shoulder. The sight was comical, for her body was that of an eight-year-old child. The corpse probably outweighed her by one hundred pounds or more, and she carried it as though it had all the mass of a dead sparrow. Her eyes sought him at once, finding him sitting near the pond with his legs crossed. He smiled as she neared.

"Keep the hide in one piece," he said gently. "I think we'll need another blanket or two for our human visitor."

The Aether seemed unhappy at his words, and after a moment he realized what must have troubled her. Visitor. He'd said it without thinking. Without contemplation, he'd relegated the human to visitor, as though he were not staying permanently. Is that what I unconsciously desire? Or was it a conscious desire? After a second, he set it aside for thought later. At the moment, he didn't have the strength to send Stark anywhere, let alone to a sealed place like the Nine Realms.

"Are you not allowing him to stay with us?" the Aether asked the question.

Propping an elbow on his knee, Loki closed his eyes and rubbed his temple. "I don't know, dearest. We'll talk about it later."

Small arms wrapped around his neck, cradling his head against a child's body. "You're tired," she said, "and weakened by reopening the gate. We don't need to decide anything right now."

A plea to leave things as they were. He sighed and wrapped one arm around her in a brief embrace. "You ought to start preparing that animal." Then he idly wondered if Stark would even be hungry. He'd deliberately awakened the man in the middle of Earth's night.

The Aether was halfway through butchering her kill when Stark reappeared, carrying a pile of wood cleverly stacked to keep its shape in his arms. Like the Aether, his eyes immediately sought Loki. Though his pace was measured and his expression casual, Loki could see what the man tried to keep out of his eyes. Sadness. Sympathy. Pain for the one he loved and could not help.

It was the absolute last thing Loki wanted to have directed at him. He felt helpless rage bubbling up inside him. That idle pity only reminded the god of his own crippled, damaged state. His complete and utter inability to heal himself. Yes, there was still magic in his veins. Strong, powerful magic. But it was not his, so it caused him terrible pain to use it and left him weakened to a debilitating degree.

If I put his eyes out, would I no longer have to suffer seeing his pity? It was a passing thought on the heels of a surprisingly strong compulsion to do just that. But it faded quickly. Stark would still feel it, so it would change nothing.

His mind screamed, I don't want you here, even as his body leaned toward Stark when the human set his bundle down and sat beside Loki. The movement was so obvious it prompted Stark to wrap an around around his shoulders and position himself so Loki could rest fully against his chest. He buried his nose in Loki's hair.

"Do you forgive me?" he whispered.

In spite of himself, Loki snorted softly. "No."

There was no conviction in his voice. He turned his face into Stark's neck and softly inhaled his scent. It was mild but masculine, a warm undertone beneath the pine-scented soap he used. Pleasant. Soothing. He sucked in a faint breath at the love pouring off Stark in palpable waves. This idiot wanted so desperately to help the one he even more desperately loved.

Truly, no one had ever so effectively disarmed the god of mischief. He closed his eyes, feeling helpless in the face of such naked emotion.

"I hope you like venison, Tony," the Aether piped up.

"You betcha, princess," Stark replied. "You need any help with that?"

"You know how to butcher animals for consumption?" Loki murmured.

The arm around his shoulder squeezed as if in warning. "Of course I do. Whaddaya think I am, some sort of helpless rich guy's kid who can't even dress himself?"

"You can't," Loki said, smiling in genuine mirth. "Your AI always dresses you."

"Hey, Jarvis only puts my Iron Man suits on. I do the rest myself."

"I don't need help," the Aether said. "You should just stay where you are."

As soon as she said it, Loki felt irritation flare. He forced it to subside. He would not allow his emotions to just run rampant all over the place.

But Stark surprised him, "Nah, I can't do nothing while a little kid works. Too much of a gentleman."

Loki straightened to allow Stark to move to her side. When the Aether handed him a knife, he wielded it with skill and competence.

"This is a pretty nice spot," the man said, idly looking around. "Where do you get your water from?"

"There's a stream," the Aether said, pointing west, "that runs right down out of the mountains. I get it from there."

"Hm. And you just eat vegetables from your garden most times?"

"That and eggs. There are these wild birds, I harvest their unfertilized eggs. Loki calls them grouse."

"They are every bit as edible as the domesticated chickens humans raise," Loki commented, watching with half-lidded eyes.

"And I hunt every so often," the Aether continued, beaming Loki a smile, "but not often. Loki doesn't like meat much."

"What?" Stark exclaimed, giving him a wide-eyed look of incredulity. "You're from Asgard. I thought all Asgardian warriors loved meat!"

Loki smirked faintly at his lover. "The operative word in that sentence was warrior. I am a mage."

"Oh come on," Stark said with a little frown. "You're one of the most badass warriors I have ever met. You just fight with magic, not swords."

For some reason, those words poured down into Loki's soul like balm. His smile was mellow and . . . "You needn't preface your statement with one of the most, Anthony."

And Stark's grin was just a little bit wicked. "You're right. The most badass. Period."

Loki chuckled softly, picking up the clay tea mug he'd set aside earlier. The liquid's flavor was dark and bitter, but it helped with the pain.

The two of them continued with easy, comfortable dialogue. While they included Loki with their body language, neither spoke to him directly but seldom. A peace he had not felt since coming here pervaded Loki's being. This was what he needed. A quiet atmosphere where they both went about things normally.

Perhaps bringing Stark here would work, after all.

o0o

By sundown, Tony had enjoyed a tasty meal and had a deer hide on its way to tanning. Some of the shock of all this had settled, and he realized how exhausted he was. Aether was the first to stir. Rising, she moved to Loki's side and hugged him.

"I'll be back in the morning with more water," she said. With a grin to Tony, "Good night. I'm glad you're here."

He returned her smile. "Me too, princess."

When she was gone, Tony watched Loki in silence for long moments. His lover hadn't said a word in probably over an hour, but he looked relatively peaceful. And very, very tired. Clapping his hands on his thighs, he pushed himself upright.

"Dunno about you, but I'm beat."

Loki glanced up at him, eyes mellow. "The bed isn't large," he said, voice quiet and content-sounding, "but there's plenty of room on the floor."

Chuckling, Tony grabbed Loki's arms and gently hauled him up. "Like hell. I'm gonna sleep wrapped around you, babe."

Loki's lips twitched in obvious displeasure, but he said nothing about the endearment. The bedroom was a tiny affair with a bed. An actual mattress on a wooden frame. Raising an eyebrow in surprise, Tony decided to ask Aether about it tomorrow. Right now, he wanted sleep. He pulled his shirt off, kicked off his boots, and flopped down. He made sure to take up a lot of room, so Loki would have no choice but to curl up to him.

With nothing more than a look of what Tony could best describe as annoyed amusement, Loki toed off his own boots and removed the beautiful leather tunic. He didn't take off his shirt, though. With deliberate movements, he climbed over Tony to lay down between him and the wall. He let his head come to rest on Tony's shoulder, draping an arm across his waist.

His fingers trailed over Tony's chest. "I have your Arc reactor, still. Would you be able to use it as a power source for other technology?"

Tony blinked. "You still have it? How the hell? I thought it was back home somewhere!"

"It was and still is in my Astral pocket," Loki explained in patient tones.

"But . . ."

The god let out a soft chuckle. "I thought I explained it wasn't a place. I can access it from anywhere. Anywhere at all."

"Fuck. I'm not even going to pretend I understand. Okay. Sure, I could use it for a power source for just about anything. Why'd you keep it?"

A pause. "I'm not sure. It seemed wrong to discard something so . . . ingenious."

Tony kissed his forehead. "You bet your sweet ass it would have been wrong. Probably my best invention. Ever."

"Hm," Loki hummed. "We'll talk more about it in the morning."

"Sounds good," Tony murmured, already dozing off. He shifted just a little to pull Loki more fully into his arms.

And for the first time in four months, he fell into peaceful sleep.