Last time...

"You've got a lot of nerve, kid," Someone commented. "coming to our country and telling us how we should behave."

"Really?" Hera asked with a lazy drawl, and Tony just knows they're in trouble judging by the shark like smile she gives them all. "Because from where I'm standing, my going to another country and telling you what to do is the most American thing I could have ever done. I'm fitting in already."

Tony starts coughing, having tried to laugh and snort at the same time, and guides her away from the reporters before they can recover from the burn. She looks absolutely mortified, embarrassed at what they'd called her, the things they'd suggested, and probably more than a little at how she'd responded to it all. Her face is beet red, and she's staring down at her shoes. They go through the usual checkpoints, make it into the limo he'd called ahead for, and she still hasn't said anything by the time it's all over. He's going to have to do something about this.

"Damn, Frost, I don't think they'll ever recover from a burn that severe." Tony chuckled, trying to lighten the mood. She looks up, giving a small hesitant grin, and he sighed. "If you hadn't said something, I would have, and it probably would have been a lot worse. Might have to make you my PR person."

"Please don't." Hera groaned, which started him snickering again.

"What made you think to act like that towards them?" Tony asked, out of curiosity.

"Oh, I asked Draco for advice. His dad has to deal with that sort of thing all the time, and he said his father just looks down his nose at them and treats them like they're children when they act like that." Hera admitted sheepishly. "So that's what I did…sort of. Might have gotten a bit too enthusiastic about it though."

"Maybe next time they'll rein themselves in." Tony suggested, though it was doubtful. "Alright. Let's get home. We can get settled in, get some food ordered, and figure out how to sibling for the next three months."

"Get food ordered?" Hera asked, confused. "Do you not…Well, I mean, you haven't been home in a while, but you're rich so I assumed you got people to go to the grocers for you. Did you forget?"

"Hera, I'm a twenty four year old man-child who runs a business and invents things that explode." Tony reminded her. "I don't even know how to cook."

Chapter 46

"Tony, you said a house." Hera stated, staring up at the place.

"Technically, I said home." Tony countered easily, walking ahead. "Besides, it is. Four wall. Roof. Doors. House."

"This is a manse, Tony, not a house. A mansion is not a house." Hera objected. "If it were any bigger, I'd be calling it a bloody castle."

"It's not that bad." He denied, vehemently.

"What could you possibly have that needs this much space?" She demanded, gesturing to the mansion he called a house. "A llama farm?"

Tony snickers. "Llamas? Why would I have llamas?"

"I don't know. You're rich, and rich people make weird purchases like that." Hera shrugged. "Lucius Malfoy has a flock of albino peacocks he's obscenely proud of for some odd reason."

"Cars." Tony admitted, completely unrepentant. "Really really nice very expensive cars."

"I rest my case." Hera chuckles.

"Come on, Princess. Let me show you the castle." Tony declared, with an exaggerated bow, holding out the crook of his arm for her. "You might like the workshop. The way you were talking about inventing with that kid, you might want a workshop of your own."

...

Meeting the bots had been fun. Dumm-E loved to play fetch, and was the oldest of them. Then there was U and Butterfingers, both of which followed Dumm-E's lead. Jarvis was the youngest of them, but he was also the most developed; a learning AI that sounded exactly like Tony's beloved father figure Edwin Jarvis. She had a feeling he was going to be sassy with that dry wit, and she fully planned to help him develop that sass to it's maximum BritishTM level of brilliance. He was already calling her Little Miss, despite Tony's best efforts to get the AI to call her Hera.

"Leave him be, Tony." Hera chided teasingly. "If Jarvis wants to call me Little Miss, let him."

"He's a learning AI, Hera." Tony objected. "He needs to learn."

"He is." Hera replied knowingly, causing the man to pull up short. "Don't worry, Jarvis, us Brits will stick together."

"Though I sound British, Little Miss, you are the first British person I have met." Jarvis replied.

"Don't worry. I'll teach you." Hera chirped. This slow grin started spreading across Tony's face as he listened to the conversation. "There are three major rules for being British. First, have a favorite tea. I know you can't drink it, but still. There are British people who don't like tea, and still have a favorite. It's that important."

"Is Darjeeling an acceptable choice?" Jarvis asked, and she could practically hear the amusement coming from the AI.

"It is if you can defend it." Hera replied simply. "Now. Second rule is that you must have a favorite football team. I think the Americans call it soccer here."

"I shall have to take time to consider my options." Jarvis stated. "I am uncertain whether or not I care for the sport."

"I'm not sure we can be friends anymore." Hera sighed dramatically, a hand draped over her forehead. "Which brings us to the third and most important rule of being British. Sass. How much sass do you have?"

"I assure you, Little Miss, I have an appropriate level of…sass." Jarvis replied, making Hera grin.

"Alright then, Mr. Sass, let's find me a bedroom with a connecting room for a workspace." Hera challenged. "If I'm going to help make tech more compatible with magic, the first thing I have to do is figure out how to protect you."

She'd found a room with Jarvis' help that had two walk in closets, one of which she swears is bigger than the actual room. Tony quickly went about making plans. They could set up the room that was meant to be the actual bedroom as some sort of hang out spot for when she had friends over; it really was smaller than the walk in closets. One of the walk in closets would be her workspace, while the other would be her bedroom. She'd get to work designing the room she wanted, or at least adding magical touches to it, and then ward the rooms to hell and back to make sure no one who shouldn't be in there could get in.

Tony wanted to make sure that she felt comfortable enough to be herself here, and insisted on being the one to pay for everything. She didn't feel like she was worth all that trouble, and didn't want him to feel like he had to buy her things just to get her to like him. At least now she understood what the Weasleys had meant in that regard, and it had been a little amusing to be on this side of it when explaining things to Tony. He looked mortified, but still stubbornly insistent, and so she let him have it. She could always pay for things she wanted to add later.

They were going to order in this time, something she was reluctant about, though she saw the sense in it. Those reporters were a fact of life Tony was used to dealing with. That was normal for him, and while it had slowly become more prevalent in her life, it hadn't reached a point where she just didn't think about it anymore. She'd rather avoid that while she could.

"Damn it, Tony, you don't even know if she was his!" An unknown male argued.

"Jarvis, who is that?" Hera asked quietly, knowing the AI would hear her. She'd been mapping out the space, asking Jarvis for suggestions, thrilled with the holographic renditions he made. Hermione would be so jealous.

"That is Obadiah Stane, Sir's godfather." Jarvis answered, matching her volume.

"He's going to become a problem later." Hera sighed. "Could you do something for me? Can you spy on him without getting caught? I don't want to risk you getting hurt."

"I can do that." Jarvis agreed. "Why do you want me to watch him? He seems worried about Sir."

"Because he's going to become a problem later." Hera replied firmly. "I know it's frustrating, but I can't explain how I know that yet."

"This is to protect Sir?" Jarvis asked, hesitant.

"This is to protect Tony. Yes." Hera confirmed.

"Then I will do what I can, Little Miss." Jarvis agreed. "It is fortunate, perhaps, that Obadiah Stane underestimates my capabilities. I do not think Sir was as forthcoming as he could have been in regards to what I can do."

...

"Why are you having such a problem with this?" Tony demanded, utterly flummoxed. He'd never seen his godfather like this. "She's practically the spitting image of me. If I were older, I would think she was my kid."

"Why am I having such a problem with this?" Obadiah shouted in incredulous anger. "You run off and adopt a kid without talking to me first, and you wonder why I have such a problem with this? How do you even know this kid isn't just some lookalike with absolutely no genetic tie to you? Did you even ask for a DNA test, or did you just trust the guy when he came to you with a sob story about a kid he can't take care of?"

"It's done, Obadiah. I've adopted her, and that's not going to change." Tony declared with finality.

"I still insist on a DNA test, Tony, or I won't believe she's Howard's. The board won't either." Obadiah continued.

"So that's what this is about." Tony realized. "You think she'll try to take the company. Well, at least now I know why your panties are in such a wad."

"Tony, I'm trying to think of your future." Obadiah insisted, getting frustrated now. "The company is your future. It's what Howard left for you. If he had fathered another child, he would have left something for them too, but he didn't. That tells me she isn't his, that she can't be his."

"Tony?" The hesitant and uncertain voice of Hera reached him. He turned to see her all but plastered to the doorway, the sight damn near breaking his heart with how scared she looked. "I heard yelling."

"It's okay, Hera, we were just talking." Tony replied, gently. "Have you thought about what kind of pizza you want?"

"I've never had pizza before, Tony." She reminded him with tiny smile. "I wouldn't know what to order, or a good place to even order from."

"I know all of Tony's favorite places, Little Miss." Jarvis insisted. "I'll be glad to help you go over toppings to decide what you might like."

"Thanks, Jarvis." She accepted with a nod towards the nearest sensor, before turning her attention back to Tony and Obadiah. "Would your godfather like me more if he knew I didn't need your company? He might be like those reporters who thought I was only after you for your money."

"Wow, she's blunt." Obadiah muttered, before eyeing Hera speculatively. "Okay, kid, how are you going to prove that?"

"The man Howard had agreed to help was James Potter. His father invented a line of hair care products that made him a fortune, but even before that the Potters were a wealthy family. They were all chemists mostly, or investment brokers." Hera explained, not really pulling away from the doorway much to answer him. "It's been like that for generations. So you don't have to worry that I'll try to take over the company. I have enough money on my own, and while I don't know what I want to do yet, I've got time to figure it out."

"Hera, that's something we'll talk about later, okay?" Tony put in. "I have no problem if you want to team up with me in the R&D department. The two of us could probably take over the world if we really set our minds to it."

"Or cause it to explode." She added, grinning just a touch. "Ruling the world sounds like too much bother. Think of all the paperwork we'd have to sign!"

Tony shuttered just thinking about it, causing her to grin a little wider.

Obadiah sighed. "I see I'm not going to talk you out of this. I still say you need to get a DNA test done, Tony. It'll shut the board up, at the very least."

...

"I hate to say this, but he isn't wrong." Tony sighed in frustration, after Obadiah had left. "The board won't stop till they get DNA proof that you were of Howard's blood."

"Why does it even matter to them?" Hera asked, a bit on the defensive. "Pretending that I'm not, you adopted me. Legally, that negates their petty squabbling about company shares, and whatever else has them clutching at their pearls."

"I know, but in this case, better to shut them up sooner rather than later." Tony advised. "I probably should have prepared you for something like this. I grew up a public figure, so I'm just used to it."

"So Draco was right." Hera sighed. "You're one of those people who have to put up with useless things like charity galas that are really about making rich people feel important, wining and dining other rich people out of their money and other useless crap you don't want to be doing, when you could be doing things you actually want to do, such as work on things in your workroom."

"Story of my life." Tony nodded in commiseration. "You'll have to do some of those things too, and sooner than you or I would like. You okay with that?"

"We get to have private moments like a family should though, right?" Hera asked, hesitating.

"I'll make sure of it." Tony promised. "Now, on to the quest for pizza! How do you feel about pineapple and ham?"

"You uncultured swine."

Tony cackled, and picked up the phone.

She was back in that place again, Hera realized after a moment. Normal dreams, even the lucid ones, didn't feel as real as this. The stone hallway was familiar to her, the warmth of the two suns peaking through the large windows. It felt lighter than it had last time, and she found herself following the familiar path to the library. She needed the familiar smell of old books considering the day she'd had, having proven herself via DNA testing that she was indeed the daughter of Howard Stark, much to Obadiah Stane's consternation; however, she had not expected to see Thor reading in what she affectionately thought of as her reading nook. He looked a little bit older now, but when he looked up and saw her, his eyes lit up with the boyish happiness he had always been known for.

"LADY HERA!" He called out happily, only to get shushed by the librarian, cowing sheepishly under her glare before the woman left. "Lady Hera, it has been some time! I had not thought you would return after our last encounter."

"I hadn't thought I'd run into you in the library of all places either, but here we are." Hera admitted, having long given up getting Thor to simply call her Hera, especially after he'd heard about her actual Ladyship title. Her tone was a little cold towards him, and he grimaced slightly at the sound, which caused her to ease up some. "What are you doing in here instead of in the training arenas? I didn't think you the studious sort."

"Ah, and normally you would be right. I do not see the need to waste away in dusty tomes as Loki does," Thor agreed, though he ducked his head a bit in apprehension when he saw her glaring at him due to that last comment. "but my brother has finally convinced my father that I need to spend more time learning the political aspects of what it is to be king. I do not see why this is so. Is that not why I will have advisers?"

"Thor, how does your father know when the advisers give him good advise?" Hera asked, with a tone she suspected Loki used on him, if his long suffering sigh was any indication. "You can bet your arse that Oðin doesn't simply trust their word. They are his advisers, but he is their king. He is expected to know the things they do. You will be too. All an adviser really does is give their opinion on the best course of action, using the knowledge they have. Hearing different opinions and viewpoints to your own is how a good king should make sound decisions. If you do not know the things they know, an adviser could easily take advantage of you."

"That would be treason!" Thor objected passionately.

"And how would you know what they were doing, if you did not know they were lying to you?" Hera pointed out, causing him to frown. "Do you think Oðin bases his decisions on instinct? Even if he did, how did he hone those instincts, but through knowledge and the practical application of that knowledge? Knowledge he gained by 'wasting away in dusty tomes' as you say. Or, if the stories are true, you could just hang yourself upside down in the Yggðrasil after sacrificing an eyeball."

"Aye, I could, but I was forbidden from doing so by Mother." Thor lamented.

Hera snorted in amusement. "You would rather lose an eyeball instead of cracking open a book?"

"Not true! I have found the most fascinating book just moments ago." Thor insisted, gesturing to said book. "It was not with the stack Loki set aside for me to read, but when I saw it, I could not help but be drawn to it. So far, it has everything; Adventure, a villain, a noble quest, even a gallant knight on a noble steed! I fear it is a cautionary tale, but I can not say for certain that I understand it yet. The hero is not someone I would have chosen to lead such a story."

"Really?" Hera inquired, intrigued. "Who did the author choose?"

"A young girl around your age, Lady Hera, but she is…spoiled. She cares nothing for her brother, and wishes only for the life of her dreams." Thor frowned, as he went flipping through the pages once more.

"Sounds more like you." Hera countered with a smug grin, and Thor made to object, though she held her hand up to stop him. "A young prince, spoiled, that cares nothing for his brother, and wishes for the life of his dreams; that of adventure."

"Why do you insist I do not care for Loki?" Thor pouted.

"You stood by while he got his lips sewn shut, and that was before Oðin decreed no help was to be given to him." Hera reminded him. "You allow your friends to insult him, though it is in a manner you can claim is done in teasing and friendship, even when you know he does not take it kindly and does not consider them his friends. If you asked, and demanded the truth from them, you would have to face the fact that they do not consider him anything more than your annoying little brother that they're forced to be around because they like you. Anyway, why are you so intrigued by this book if the hero is not to your standards?"

"Because she wishes her brother away, and will have to endure dangers untold and hardships unnumbered if she is to win him back." Thor replied, distracted by the book once more.

"And you will have 13 hours to run the labyrinth, or your brother will become one of us…such a pity." Hera whispered to herself, her mind lost in half forgotten memories and dreams. She knew those words. How did she know those words?

"You have read it!" Thor rejoices, once again shushed by the librarian, but this time he is too happy to be dissuaded. "Why did you not say so? Do not spoil the ending for me. I wish to read on!"

"Thor, put that book back where you found it." Hera warned, hoping he would listen to reason. "You do not understand the power words can have, and you will inevitably call upon the power of the book without realizing or caring what you have done. You may not be able to undo the damage, should you incur the wrath of the Goblin King."

"Do you speak true? This realm exists?" Thor asked, nigh ecstatic now, clearly not hearing her warning. "The book claims there is a great sword within the labyrinth. I think I should quite like to have that, as Mjölnir has not yet seen fit to grant me worthy of its use. I shall have to tell our friends of this. Surely, tis is a noble quest worthy of our efforts?"

"Thor, in that book there are only two people involved in the quest; the Wisher and the Wished Away, if we're not counting the Goblin King and his subjects." Hera cautioned again. "Please, just put the book down, and don't think about it anymore. You've no idea what you're messing with."

"Where is it? Where is it?" Thor was mumbling to himself now. Hera had a bad feeling about this, but she didn't get the chance to say anything, because Thor looked up at her and exclaimed. "I wish the goblins would come and take you away, right now!"