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Chapter Text

He should have let go.

The thought had run through Loki’s mind more than a dozen times over the last few years.

When he was dangling from the bridge with nothing but Gungnir tethering him to Asgard, he should have let the void consume him - but he hadn’t, he’d held on, and now he was back where he’d started only far worse off than he’d ever been.

He knew what he was now, knew his family was a lie.

He’d been imprisoned in his room for the first year, his magic restricted and Frigga coming by every day, trying to talk to him and often leaving in tears.

It was only later, of course, that he realised the reason for the imprisonment was due to fear of him harming himself.

Not an unreasonable one, all things considered, but if he truly wanted to end his own existence, there were a myriad of ways to do it which they would not catch in time. Perhaps they recognised that, because, one way or another, they started to let him out.

He still wore bracelets on his wrists; manacles without the chains. They kept track of his seidr and monitored his whereabouts. Loki didn’t go far; the palace gardens or the library were the only two places he was willing to see.

They were also where he was less likely to run into others.

Yes, Loki should have fallen rather than condemn himself to Asgard, but he was here now and nothing could change that. Thor rarely spoke to him, Odin ignored him, the Aesir mocked and sneered at him even more openly than before.

He was a Jotun on Asgard. A prisoner in the palace.

Loki might not want to fall off the Bifrost anymore, but he certainly didn’t want to be on Asgard. The realm had stopped being his home since his skin had turned blue.

Loki didn’t hear much gossip as he avoided the servants and the court whenever he could, it was why it took almost five days before Loki learned what had happened.

Frigga was the one to tell him. He was sitting in his rooms reading a book from the library when she knocked on his door and entered. She’d learnt by now that he never gave anyone permission and if she wanted to see him, she had to ignore propriety.

He didn’t greet her when she entered, he didn’t even look away from his book. She took a seat on the other end of the settee, making sure to leave plenty of space between them.

Once, she might have tried polite small talk. Now, she cut directly to the heart of the matter.

“Thor was almost killed on Midgard,” she began. Loki couldn’t quite hold back his flinch, and it showed in a small twitch to his cheek. Frigga made no comment, continuing undaunted, “He was saved by a Midgardian warrior. His name is Anthony Stark and he was gravely injured during the battle. Thor brought him to Asgard to heal, but his injuries are vast. He has been granted permission to stay. He has also been granted permission to learn the nature of seidr.”

Loki turned to her, already knowing where this was going and furious to have been dragged into the middle of it.

Frigga’s eyes were sad and her expression tired. “The Allfather has made his decision. You will teach the mortal what he seeks.”

“And if I refuse?” Loki demanded.

Frigga shook her head. “You are still in repentance. Do not make it worse for yourself.”

Loki chuckled darkly. “Define worse?”

“Loki,” she said, her voice softly pleading. “Do not throw away this chance.”

He narrowed his eyes, because yes, it was a chance. A small sliver of one, but it was something he could manipulate. A friend of Thor’s, who the Crown Prince owed a life debt. A mortal who would die, if not from his wounds, then a few decades in the future. Someone who Odin was honour-bound to treat with respect due to his heroics in battle.

There were numerous ways that Loki could benefit from teaching the mortal.

But he just… didn’t care.

What was left for him? He had no realm, no home, no family. Word of his crimes would have spread throughout the Nine Realms. The few acquaintances he had would spurn him, and as for friends, well, Loki Liesmith had never had those.

He was an adopted Jotun; abandoned by one realm and hated by another. What could he possibly gain from teaching the Midgardian?

Seidr.

The word whispered unbidden through his mind and he glanced down at his wrists. If he was to teach a mortal, he would need greater access to his magic. It was the one thing Loki longed for, the one piece of his life that hadn’t been tainted by lies and rejection.

If he could get that back… well, it would be comforting.

“I will need to use my seidr to teach the mortal,” Loki said, looking at Frigga and gauging her reaction.

She looked relieved, and she nodded. “You will be granted greater access with the potential for more, should the mortal take to his studies.”

Loki doubted a mortal would be able to understand seidr, let alone wield it; especially if he was from the same ilk as the Warriors Three.

No, Loki doubted the man would be interested to remain beside Loki for more than a day, but… a single day with his seidr? Perhaps that would be worth whatever torment and mockery the mortal would throw at him.

A time was set to meet the mortal in an unused room in the palace. It had been cleaned and made ready for their lessons with two desks, numerous magic books that Loki had selected (most of which, he doubted they would use).

He arrived early and let out a breath of pure relief the moment he stepped through the doors.

Odin had decided that his magic would not be released entirely, only when he was in the confines of the magic room would he be given access to his seidr.

Loki felt it flood him and he closed his eyes in bliss. He then looked down at his hands and let the green magic pour out of him, dancing around him in patterns and illusions that made him give the first genuine smile in years.

It was at that moment, that he heard a soft, “Woah.”

He spun around, tensing and ready to attack, but the shorter man raised his hands in an obvious gesture of surrender.

“Sorry, sorry! Didn’t meant to sneak up on you, but I saw you enter and thought ‘hey is this my magic teacher?’ and then I saw you use magic and damn, but who can take their eyes away from that?”

Loki blinked, his surprise making him slacken from his defensive stance. “You… you are the mortal?”

It could be no other, of course, but Loki was still surprised. He was older than had Loki expected, and was short and compact; bearing none of the bulging muscles Loki had assumed. He also spoke casually and with easy. He’d complimented Loki’s magic and called it captivating.

“‘The mortal’,” he repeated, looking somewhere between annoyed and amused. “Not the ‘lauded hero’ or the ‘brave shield-brother of Prince Thor’?”

Loki scoffed. “If you are expecting awe and fawning, you will not find it here.”

Instead of being disappointed or offended, the mortal’s humour only seemed to grow.

“Really? Well, isn’t that a change. Gotta admit, magic man, I’m not exactly hating the attitude. I work better when I’m challenged.”

It was… unusual.

Loki was not used to someone accepting his brusque attitude, let alone being amused by it.

“So, do I get to know your name, Yoda?”

Loki frowned, not understanding the description, but assuming it was something Midgardian. He was surprised that someone hadn’t told the mortal who he’d be with.

“Loki,” he answered.

“Well, nice to meet you, I’m Tony.”

He held out his hand in a gesture of politeness. Loki stared down at it with surprise.

He does not know.

Loki supposed it could have been simple accident, but Loki doubted Odin would be so deliberately obtuse. He had not told Tony that his teacher was the dishonourable, imprisoned brother of Thor.

Perhaps, he didn’t want the mortal to know that the greatest magic user on Asgard was a fallen prince. Perhaps he thought they would work together better if Tony was unaware. Or maybe, he merely thought to insult Loki or remind him of his place; a Jotun with no Asgardian royal lineage: a man not worthy of introduction. Someone, who, even now, the Aesir referred to as “the dark” or “the envious” prince. They never called him by name, as if to utter it was to show favour to him and all that he had done.

Yet, the mortal was still holding out his hand, an uncertain furrow to his brow.

Slowly, Loki raised his hand and clasped the mortal’s. Tony smiled and shook his hand up and down in the common Midgardian gesture.

“Thanks for taking the time to help me out, Loki.”

Loki’s lips twitched into a parody of a smile.

Oh, you are an oblivious thing.

He wondered how long that would last.

Tony let his hand go, and his eyes were intensely focused and full of intrigue.

“So, those images you had when I came in; how does that work? Are they reflections of light? Energy manipulation? Were you using the energy in the air, or was it your own personal source? Do energy sources differ? How hard was that for you to do? Does it take much power or was that barely noticeable?”

The amount of questions were surprising, not only in how rapidly they were asked but in the nature of them. The mortal was more astute than he’d anticipated. He also seemed genuinely excited to learn.

It was almost as if he was talking to an apprentice.

But, no. That was a ludicrous thought and one that Loki rapidly dismissed. The mortal was curious now, but he would grow bored. Loki should enjoy the conversation and the use of his magic while he could. It would be gone too soon, leaving Loki alone and bound by his manacles once more.

Loki had expected the mortal to be unable to keep up with him, to lose interest when he realised magic was not something he could channel. He expected Tony Stark to be like a typical Aesir.

It became obvious that Tony Stark was anything but typical and certainly not similar to an Aesir.

He asked question after question, read the books put before him with vigour. He was disappointed he had no magical ability, but that didn’t stop his desire to know.

Loki believed, had he the time and the means, Tony would expand his own weaponry and armour to include defences against seidr while building his own technological equivalents.

Yet, time was something the mortal did not have.

Loki had not realised how long had passed in discussion and neither had the mortal. They had spoken for hours, and it wasn’t until Tony brought a hand to his chest and coughed hard enough to rattle his chest, painting his lips red that they both realised.

Loki froze mid-explanation, looking at the mortal with concern.

“Tony…”

“Sorry,” Tony gasped. He pushed from his chair and stood on shaky feet. “I need to… need to get to the healers. I didn’t realise how long…”

“You are in no condition to walk.”

Loki hesitated before coming around the desk. “I can teleport you.”

At least, Loki hoped his seidr would allow it. His magic was permitted inside the room, but nowhere else. But, if he was benefiting the mortal… surely, Odin would not stop it?

“Please,” Tony asked, his pain clear.

Loki touched his shoulder before pulling at his seidr and wrapping it around them both. There was a moment of resistance before his magic was allowed to pass and they were brought to the doors of the healing room.

Tony drew in another shaky breath that rattled his chest and he swayed for a moment before opening his eyes. It said a lot for his condition that he didn’t ask Loki any questions, he merely stumbled for the door and pushed it open.

“Eir,” he called, but the woman was already rushing to his side.

“You waited too long, Anthony,” she chastised, concern in her gaze.

He smiled painfully. “I got distracted.”

She clicked her tongue and hurried him over to a bed and placed him on top of it. Loki knew he should leave, but his curiosity found him moving forward. Eir didn’t notice, too busy yanking up Tony’s shirt and…

Loki sucked in a breath. There was a metal circle embedded in the mortal’s chest which glowed a sickly grey. Eir’s healing magic was doing it’s best, pushing into the wound and both feeding it energy and protecting the body that housed it but Loki could see it wouldn’t be enough.

The damage to his chest was severe and the item seemed to be both helping and hindering the mortal’s health.

Eir was not saving him she was merely helping him. She was keeping him alive and minimising his pain, but even that would not last forever.

The mortal was dying, it was only a matter of time.

And when Loki realised that he felt… saddened, because even though he had just met the mortal, Loki knew the man was an intellect to rival Loki’s own.

The idea of such a bright spark being snuffed before his time, it just seemed horribly unfair.

But there was nothing Loki could say or do, and although he did wish to make sure Tony would be healed, he knew it wasn’t his place. Loki forced himself to turn on his heel and leave Tony to Eir.

After all, it wouldn’t do for Tony to gain the association of the despised second prince.

Loki returned to his chambers after departing the healing rooms. He’d briefly considered returning to the magic room, to use his seidr again before it was taken from him, but Loki knew it was a pointless endeavour.

Without the mortal nearby, Odin would have restricted his manacles once more.

Without the mortal.

Once again, Loki felt another burst of fresh sadness. He had actually enjoyed himself with Tony. Such a bright mind, so free with compliments, and eager to learn. What a change that made from those he had spent time with prior to his world crumbling around him.

Now, of course, there was no one to spend time with at all.

Loki had intended to go directly to his settee and return to his previous malaise, but his gaze unerringly, drifted to his magic texts. He thought of the intelligent mortal and his enquires about illusion. Clones were far too advanced, subjects he’d had no intention of showing the man but…

I have all the time in the universe, and he has none.

Loki wandered to his shelves and started pulling out and examining more complex texts. He had to wonder if the mortal could grasp the principles if properly explained and with demonstrations.

If he even survives the day. This entire search could be for naught.

Loki abruptly dismissed his foolishness and returned the tomes to his shelf. He then went to his settee and laid down, his gaze on the ceiling even as his mind drifted back to earlier in the afternoon. But instead of remembering the usage of his seidr, the moment when the oppressive weight of restriction had lifted – Loki’s mind instead turned to the mortal.

He was a puzzle, and while the wound on his chest was far from Loki’s field, he found his mind running over what he had seen and how it seemed to afflict him.

And why after all, did a mortal have such a large mechanical device buried inside his chest?

Chapter Text

Loki spent much of the day with the mortal on his mind. He had so little to do otherwise. Review texts he had read hundreds of times? Wander places he had memorised centuries prior? He did not pick up the tomes and research either the wound or more complex spells to show the mortal, but Loki did let his mind pluck at the puzzle he presented.

When evening came, he once again had a quiet dinner alone. He thought of the mortal then too. Did he dine with Thor and his cohorts? What stories would be told about the second, traitorous prince? It was enough that he finally dismissed Tony’s condition from his mind. He went instead to his balcony, observing the torchlight far below and the people walking to and fro. He also looked at the bifrost while holding in a sigh; the place that would get him far away from Asgard – and the place he would never be allowed to go.

He turned from the view, shut his balcony doors and decided on an early night. For what did waking gift him? Hours of solitude and lethargy, broken only once by a strange, intelligent mortal. Someone whom Loki did not expect to hear from again; he would be dead in the medical wings, incapable of leaving to learn further seidr, or warned off by Thor or some other who informed him of the truth of Loki’s history. Eir, after all, had seen them together. Surely, she would not keep silent about whom taught him?

Loki had little expectation, it was why, after waking, bathing and eating his morning meal, Loki left for the gardens, planning an uninterrupted, silent walk. However, he had not even fully left the hallway branching off his room when he was met by Frigga.

He stilled, never quite ready to handle her conversations or sorrowful features, but unlike her normal tentative hope whenever they met one another, she walked towards him with purpose.

“Loki,” she greeted. He gave a small and stiff incline of his head in reply. Her expression tightened with sadness, but she held out her hand, a letter in it. “It has been requested that I give you this.”

Loki frowned. Frigga, after all, was Queen, there were very few who would ask her such a favour, or expect her to ferret conversation like an every day servant. His curiosity was sufficiently piqued that he took it.

It was merely a folded scrap of parchment, no seal or ribbon to keep the words from prying eyes. It was so un-Aesir that Loki could only think of one culprit. He flipped up the parchment.

Hey Loki,

Sorry about yesterday. Bad first impression. We still up for magic lessons? Frigga said she was the best way to get in contact with you.

You must be pretty high up to have the Queen willing to play postal service. So, I better add a ‘pretty please’ to this just in case.

So, magic at noon? What do you say?

Pretty please!

-Tony Stark

Loki didn’t realise he’d started to smile until the very end. He glanced at Frigga. She tried to mask her expression, but he still saw the relief and joy present there. His smile immediately disappeared, but he knew the damage had been done. He refolded the letter and looked away from her.

“Relay my acceptance,” he muttered. “I will see him at noon.”

He started to turn, intending to leave and regain his solitude, but Frigga spoke, giving him pause, “I heard the mortal possesses a bright mind. My few conversations have only proven it. Does he take well to seidr?”

“He will never be a practitioner,” Loki answered stiffly. “There is no natural affinity.”

“By what of runes?”

Loki’s shoulders coiled with fresh tension. Once, her suggestions would have sparked discussion and invigoration, but now they only left him bitter.

“If you have such interest, perhaps you should teach him? I am surprised they did not suggest you first. After all, it is your son whom he saved.”

Frigga flinched and Loki felt a fresh, if brief, stab of hurt.

“I would not teach him, Loki,” she said softly, her gaze sad. “It is well known to all practitioners that you are the finest mage upon Asgard.”

Loki turned away abruptly. He no longer wished to be part of the conversation.

“Then it will be my judgement alone to determine what he is capable of and will learn.”

He left without preamble but did not go to the gardens as originally intended, instead he retreated back to the sanctuary of his rooms. Frigga did not follow and he was able to close his door on further conversation.

Once alone, he closed his eyes. Their discussions always weighed heavily upon him; any time he lashed out at her and saw her pain, he felt a frustrating guilt he could never erase.

If only she would leave me alone. Then neither of us would suffer these stilted conversations.

Yet, it only reminded him of why she had visited him.

His eyes opened, his gaze turning to the note still in his hand. He flipped it open and read it again, caching on the ridiculous ‘pretty please’ that had been used. His lips threatened to twitch upwards for a second time, but he refused to let it occur. Once was enough.

Instead, he closed it and went over to his shelves, scanning the titles. It was a few hours before noon and if he had limited time to indulge in seidr then he would make the most of it.

If the mortal was curious about more complex spells, he would happily oblige.

Unlike yesterday, he was not the first to arrive. He reached the room and pushed open the door only to find the mortal flicking through one of the spell books from the previous day. Loki stilled, remaining surprised at the man’s blatant enthusiasm.

The mortal looked up, smiling instantly (not something Loki was used to receiving) before grimacing and looking sheepish (a far more common expression.)

“Hey, thanks for coming. Sorry for, erm… everything.”

“It is fine,” Loki said, still a little caught on the man’s immediate delight at his appearance. “You cannot help your… state.”

He wasn’t quite sure how to address the wound or the man’s overall health. He was certain it would be a sensitive topic and, judging by the man’s grimace and pained features, he had been right.

“Yeah.” Tony looked away. He rubbed his chest, over his shirt; near but not quite touching the strange, metal contraption. “On that, Eir said we really can’t work as long as we did before. I’m on an even stricter reporting schedule.” His lips twisted in a bitterly amused grin. “She’s worked out quicker than most that I’m bad at being told to ‘rest’.”

“Well, she has had centuries of practice dealing with belligerent warriors.”

Tony’s smile became a bit more genuine. He also met Loki’s gaze again.

“Discovered that from experience, Loki?”

“Rarely. I was not the one requiring her tender mercies. I was the one…”

Returning the foolish wounded to her care after saving them from some ridiculous venture Thor took us all on.

But the words died up on his tongue. He could still remember Fandral being taken to the healers after Jotunheim. It all hit too close to wounds not freshly healed – it also further defined how not one of them had even attempted to visit him. He knew that they were all more Thor’s friends than his, but to not visit him once? After all the centuries they had known one another? It stung in ways he had thought he would be immune to.

“Loki?”

The mortal’s voice dragged him back from his thoughts. He blinked and refocused on the room. Tony was watching him with concern. He seemed to have even stepped closer, as if to offer some type of comfort before thinking better of it.

He, a dying mortal, still had compassion and consideration for him, a virtual stranger.

“Nothing,” Loki said, his voice softer than it had been in some time. He cleared his throat and looked away. “If you wish to see seidr, I had best perform it. You focused on illusion magic yesterday, allow me to show what else they can produce.”

He flicked his wrist, crafting two mimics of himself and one of the mortal. His own images were, of course, far more detailed and had been perfected over centuries of practice. The mortal, by comparison, was drawn from memory and visual cues.

Tony’s eyes widened at their appearance. He looked at the clones of Loki first but was quick to go up to the version of himself. He started to circle it and the clone circled back, surprising him further.

“That is fucking cool,” Tony breathed. Yet, for all that he was noticeably impressed, his eyebrows had narrowed with calculation. “On first glance, this is a pretty good copy. Fool a lot of people. But close friends? No chance.”

“Of course not,” Loki agreed. “We are not well acquainted. It can only mimic as well as I can mimic.”

He had one of his clones step forward and in front of him. It placed its arms behind its back and started to speak, “But an image of myself? Why, I have spent centuries becoming a master. I have fooled my own brother more times than I can count.”

Loki’s jaw ticked over the clone’s words. He was annoyed enough that he dispersed it abruptly. Brother. How he wished that word was not so deeply-rooted even now.

Tony had been watching and he seemed briefly taken aback, as if he had not noticed it was the clone that had started talking.

“Really fucking cool,” he breathed. “God, I wish I had some of my tech. I’d be scanning the hell out of everything and comparing the difference between the clones.”

He sounded so wistful, before seeming to shake away the thought. He turned back to his own image.

“But, okay. Physical appearance, you’ve pretty much nailed. Which means your brain’s recall has to be incredible. Mannerisms, well, they’re decent, but you haven’t quite got the essence of me, have you?”

Loki felt a little miffed. “I have only met you twice.”

“Oh, hey, that was not a complaint or a put down. I’m insanely impressed. It’s more like a mental tally of what’s slightly off.” He pointed at his clone. “This is like the sketch.” He then pointed at the other clone. “That’s the masterpiece. It’s cool to see the change.”

Feeling mollified, Loki inclined his head. He also stepped a little closer, looking between the two critically, he could accept the mortal’s assessment.

“It is lacking,” he acknowledged. “But yes, it is a good example of the difference between centuries of work, and moments.”

“Both would still be amazing on the battlefield,” Tony said. “You only need that split second distraction and you’ve got all the advantage.”

Loki smiled tightly, pleased by the compliment, but it still felt too little too late. He had wanted such a praise for as long as he’d been making clones. Hearing a mortal say it now, no matter how truthfully, did not fully solve a lifetime worth of aches.

“Well, we are not on a battlefield,” he said.

He also walked past both the mortal and the clones to reach the desk. He placed down the tome he had brought and flicked through it for the passage on clones. When the mortal came close, he did not startle (he was too well trained and paranoid for that) but he did glance at him. Tony didn’t stop until they were side by side, barely a sliver between their arms as he peered down at the text.

This close, Loki could not help running his gaze over the shorter man. His features were not creased by pain (Eir would have seen to that), even his stature did not have the tension of a fatally wounded man. Rather, he remained alight with curiosity, intrigue and energy.

Such a puzzle, this man. Such a shame as well. Of all the people I could have been forced to teach, I am given one with such fascination and such limited time.

But then, Loki doubted the mortal would be here if not for the wound he had gained. For if he was healthy and free to do as he chose, why would Tony Stark the famed mortal hero, choose to spend time with him?

Loki rarely felt such pure enjoyment with another individual. He so rarely lost track of time, but once again Tony remained so thoroughly engaging that Loki could have easily spent all day discussing magic, showing the mortal clones and perfecting his copy of the mortal – but, because he was so closely monitoring Tony, because he was aware of his wound, and the nature of Eir’s healing, Loki noticed how long they had worked by Tony’s increased tension and the beads of sweat forming.

The moment he realised; he stopped talking. It caused Tony’s frown to deepen.

“Hey, what? Lokes. Why did you-”

But it became apparent the man had noticed exactly what he had: too much time had passed.

“Shit,” Tony whispered.

He touched his chest. He even grabbed his shirt, pulling it forward so he could look beneath it. He grimaced.

“That’s my cue then.” He sighed. “Just when we were getting to all the good bits.” His expression turned hopeful. “Any chance we can do it again tomorrow?”

An agreement was quick to form on Loki’s tongue, but he bit it down. The mortal was clearly in need of recuperation. Magical studies were hardly a light or easy endeavour.

“Perhaps a break would serve you better,” Loki suggested.

Tony shook his head.

“No,” he said firmly. “If you’re busy, or bored of dumbing things down for a mortal; that’s fine. But I…” His lips thinned. “I don’t want to waste a minute if I don’t have to.

The words only further highlighted how grievous the wound was. It sent a fresh spike of, not just concern, but sadness through him. The mortal was… enjoyable company. Something so rare for him to find, both before his imprisonment and during. It found him making an unexpected offer.

“What of a different meeting?” He questioned. “This may overtax you, but what of a meal in the gardens? We may converse freely and you may rest more easily.”

Tony quirked a small smile. “You really think a bunch of roses will distract me from trying to work out seidr?”

“Perhaps not,” Loki allowed, his own smile threatening to form. “But at least there you may be more inclined to sit rather than pace this room.”

Tony huffed a laugh, but for all amusement tried to shine across his features, he was rubbing his chest, pain starting to creep in.

“We’ll give it a shot. Stranger things have happened. So, palace gardens at noon?”

“Yes. Do you know the way?”

“I’m sure I’ll work it out. But I better go now or Eir will chew me out again.” He reached out, grasping Loki’s arm and squeezing softly. He smiled with the same friendly enthusiasm from when Loki had first arrived. “Thanks, Lokes. See you tomorrow.”

The mortal turned and left the room and Loki was too thrown by the touch and the smile to reply or follow. His skin still felt warm from where Tony had grasped him, and, as he stood there, another thought occurred.

I invited him to the gardens. The place I retreat to for privacy and solitude.

But Loki was unwilling to examine that thought too closely, or the way warmth was spreading to rest in his chest, fanned even further by the memory of the man’s friendly smile and his attractive face.

Chapter Text

Unfortunately, at the time of his offer, Loki did not consider how closely he was still monitored.

Once, ordering a large feast would scarcely have gained notice, now, merely requesting a second plate, found Frigga at his door.

The moment he discovered her, he scowled.

“The servants made mention that you are dining-”

“Of course,” Loki interrupted, so disgusted and furious that he had not thought ahead. “Because my every move must be monitored. As if Odin is not always aware of what I am doing. It is not as if I can hide from Heimdall any longer.”

“Loki, I merely-”

“What?” He spat. “Came to demand a full account of whom I dine with? Why I would dare involve another and-”

“Loki,” she interjected, raising her voice so unexpectedly that he fell silent. She drew in a calming breath. “Loki,” she said again, “I merely wished to make certain it was the mortal as there are foods Eir has insisted he cannot eat.”

Loki blinked. But for all that it sounded reasonable; Loki was not fully swayed.

“And whom else would I possible share a meal with? I do not have queues of associates at my door.”

Frigga met his gaze, and he could hear her unspoken words.

I am here. I am at your door. I would share a meal with you, if you only invited me.

Rather than acknowledge that expression and silent sadness, he looked away from her.

“Yes, it is him,” Loki muttered. “The servants may make whatever alterations to the menu as are deemed necessary.”

There was another heavy silence. Loki’s grip firmed on his door and he itched to close it. There were still some hours before he would meet Tony and although he did not plan to overload the mortal, he would still use their meeting to answer any questions the man had.

(Loki had already learned that he always had an abundance and that, unlike many others, they were well thought out and, on occasion, challenging to answer.)

“I will let them know,” she replied softly.

Although they fell silent, there was an obvious expectation in the air. She clearly wished to say more, and while Loki did still want to close the door and be done with it, something made him hesitate.

Or rather, it was the memory of soft brown eyes, pained and exhausted. A mortal trying to take in every moment all while knowing it would soon be taken from him. It reminded him that, nothing, not even Frigga, would be around forever.

“Say what else you have come to say,” Loki muttered. “My patience grows thin.”

“There has been a new arrival of Alfheim tea,” Frigga said, her words quick but her tone noticeably tentative. “The palace kitchens have not yet opened them. I had intended to visit this morning and examine the new blends.”

Loki felt a deep confliction. Often, they had gone together. It had been a frequent ritual that ended in them trying a new blend in her rooms. Normally, he did not care to venture outside the gardens and his rooms, but he felt a sudden yearning to see the fresh leaves. He might even be able to find a blend that he could take to the gardens and share with Tony.

“I would enjoy your company, Loki,” Frigga added, her voice achingly soft.

Loki remained frozen in place for a long moment, his indecision keeping him still, but eventually, he turned away from her. He debated it once more but finally he stepped outside his room and shut the door. He met Frigga’s carefully guarded gaze.

“Do not expect me to linger long.”

Her expression transformed, immediately brightening as she smiled. Loki couldn’t look at her. For so long, all he had seen was sadness, guilt and pain. To see her happiness caused no shortage of confliction. He was still so hurt by her, but despite everything he had tried to do, she remained his mother.

“Of course, Loki.”

Loki nodded sharply, unwilling to speak. He started to walk down the hall and she joined him, standing at his side. They didn’t talk. There was no easy flow of conversation as had once been common with them, but for the first time since his near-fall, he had not viciously and harshly forced her away.

Foolish sentiment.

But he did not change his mind and leave. He couldn’t. His mind was still too caught on a dying mortal and all the things he would never do. A single glimpse of mortality, and it had softened him just enough to let Frigga’s persistent attempts crack through his defences.

They didn’t talk much, but they didn’t need to, Loki could already tell that Frigga was delighted to merely be spending an hour in his company as they examined the teas. The servants bustled around them, giving him a cold shoulder or a glare, but Loki was well used to ignoring them.

When they finished, he returned back to his rooms with a few satchels of new blends. Frigga, seemingly aware of his wariness, didn’t try to invite him back for tea. Once alone, Loki placed the teas at his desk, feeling oddly… accepting of how the morning had unfolded. While he knew Frigga would take his brief acceptance as a chance to try and engage him further, Loki did not feel a cause for regret.

Instead, he merely shook it from his mind and focused on the meal he would soon have with Tony. He’d already instructed the servants on the blend to prepare for them and he hoped the mortal would enjoy it.

After that, it was merely a wait for noon. He felt unusually restless, pacing his room and flicking aimlessly through his tomes. It was the first time he had spent an extended social period with anyone since his fall from grace, but somehow, he doubted that was the cause of his agitated state.

It was that… well, he was spending time with the mortal in the gardens. The whole activity went against anything he had done while a known prince of Asgard. The whole excursion was out of character. And yet, with Tony, it only left him with a growing impatience to see him.

Was it because his exclusion had taken more of a toll than he’d realised? Or was it that, for once in his long life, he had found someone whom he… liked?

Ridiculous, unhelpful sentiment.

Engaging in a friendship with a dying mortal was the height of foolishness. He should never have offered to sit in the gardens sharing a meal and discussing seidr. He shouldn’t have gone hunting for a tea that might be to the man’s tastes.

It was all so incredibly ludicrous.

But rather than send a letter cancelling their engagement with an easily formed lie, Loki remained pacing his room, thinking of the meal to come. When noon finally approached, he left with sure strides for the gardens.

They had set no specific meeting place, but there were only a few ways with which to enter the gardens. Knowing the palace layout, he went for the one closet to the guest rooms for visiting dignitaries. He quickly found Tony waiting beside it.

He was leaning against the wall, fiddling with some kind of metal device. He glanced up at hearing his approach and offered an immediate and welcoming smile. It was a sight that remained pleasant, if surprising, to see.

“Hey Lokes.”

“Tony,” he greeted. “Have you waited long?”

“Nah. Only a few minutes.”

He started to slip the contraption back in his pocket but paused, seemingly noticing his curious gaze. He held it up.

“Starkphone,” he explained. “Can’t connect to anything, but most of my tech functions without internet or,” something sad crossed his face, “artificial overseeing.”

Loki didn’t understand the latter comment or the emotion behind it, but his mind had caught on the first.

“Stark, you said? Is that what mortals do now? Call their items after themselves?”

“Ha. No. But it’s my company, my design. Gets the honour of my name slapped on the side.”

He turned it over so that Loki could indeed see the mortal’s name upon it.

“Interesting,” Loki murmured. “I was not aware you were a craftsman.” He frowned, feeling a twinge of discomfort, even regret, but pushing forward regardless. “If it is technology you favour, perhaps you should request an afternoon with the smiths? They engineer and maintain Asgard’s finest creations.”

“Huh. That could be cool,” he acknowledged, slipping the Starkphone into his pocket. “But I probably don’t have the energy to learn two things at once.” He huffed a somewhat bitter laugh. “Not anymore.”

“You could stop learning seidr,” Loki offered softly.

Tony met his gaze, not seeming to react for a moment before he quirked a smile.

“Trying to get rid of me? Hate to tell you, Gandalf, but I’m far too invested to give up now.”

Relief swelled within Loki. He tried not to let it show how deeply it affected him, choosing instead to focus on the easier part.

“There is no one on this realm called Gandalf,” he started to turn into the gardens before adding, “and you’ll find, I am no more grey than I am white.”

“What? Wait. Holy-? Did you get that reference?” Loki bit down on a smile, hearing the mortal hurry to get into step with him. “Seriously? You know the Lord of the Rings? How?!”

“Thor is not the only one to have ventured to Midgard in recent years.”

“Okay, that’s blowing my mind a little. Even he doesn’t get my references most of the time. How many others books have you read? What else have you done on Earth? I’m so curious right now.”

Loki fought down a smile even as he made his way down the pathways, Tony following at his side. He led them to a bench protected from sun by the shade of its branches. Their food was already laying in wait for them, and he heard Tony pull up short. Loki paused as well, looking back at the startled mortal.

“Tony?”

“Sorry,” he said, blinking. “Wasn’t expecting to walk into a picnic.”

“I did mention a meal in the gardens.”

He shook his head, and a moment later, rubbed near his chest.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Yeah, you did. Right.” He cleared his throat. “Um. Eir said there’s only-”

“Certain things you can eat, yes. It has been taken care of.”

Tony went back to grinning again. “Are you ever caught off guard by something?”

Far too recently.

The sharp pain of his heritage made him look away. He didn’t look at his hand, but he clenched his fist, still learning how to ride the waves of such raw betrayal and hurt.

Yes, that had caught him off guard more spectacularly than anything else ever had.

“Hey.”

The soft voice pulled him from his thoughts, as did a light touch to his arm. He jerked his attention back to the mortal. Tony’s expression was gentle and apologetic. The mortal could have no idea what memory had surfaced, but despite his curious nature, he didn’t pry.

He softly squeezed Loki’s arm before suggesting, “You were wowing me with your knowledge of Lord of the Rings. Let’s crack open some sandwiches and you can tell me how different magic is from the book to reality.”

It was an easy subject change, a way to distract without having to explain what had occurred. Loki took the option with grateful eagerness. He gestured the mortal to the bench before sitting down himself. They ended up with their thighs near touching. When Loki glanced at the mortal, he found him bathed in mottled sunlight. He was a sight to behold and Loki swallowed before looking away. The last thing he needed was to be caught admiring a dying man who was only with him due to a life debt and who's only connection to Loki was by resembling a student.

It should have been simple to spend a few hours with the mortal. He should have been able to focus on instructing the man on seidr. Only, it was quickly not simple.

Tony wanted to know how he knew the Lord of the Rings. He wanted to know about his trips to Midgard and what else he’d done while there. Loki had shied away from the time during his brief, tremulous reign as King, but the rest he had answered candidly and with fond remembrance. In fact, while talking to the mortal, he was almost able to forget all that he had done and lost.

But, as they were eating and talking, Tony made a comment that reminded him of how tenuous their association still was.

“You know, it’s funny, Thor never mentioned any other Asgardian going to Earth.”

Loki’s good humour which had remained through much of the conversation, quickly dissipated. He focused on his slices of fruit.

“Didn’t he?”

“Nope. Honestly, he didn’t say much about Asgard at all. I didn’t even know until I got here that he had a brother!”

Loki refused to react. He speared a piece of fruit and ate it, chewing smoothly and without a rush. Tony, as expected, continued to talk.

“I mean, he didn’t talk much about Frigga either. It was all Odin, and battles, blahblah. I tuned a lot of it out, but I’m sure I would have remembered something about a sibling.”

Loki dared a glance at the mortal, he was frowning at a nearby tree.

“I asked a few people about him too,” Tony continued, “Seems like all he’s got is bad press. Maybe it’s like when you’ve got an uncle in prison, you just don’t talk about them.”

Loki couldn’t fully quell his cringe in time, but the mortal didn’t seem to notice. It was a small blessing as Loki found that the last thing he wanted was to be uncovered by this man. He didn’t want Tony to know the truth – to use his perceptive and shrewd nature to uncover exactly who he was and why he was avoided by all save Frigga.

And yet, it seemed he would not have such a reprieve as Tony turned to him and asked, “So, what do you think of this mysterious prince?”

His expression was open and curious. There was no sly subterfuge or knowing smiles. The man had no idea whom he was – and in a bid to keep the man at his side a little longer, Loki used a small deception, a tiny half-truth.

“I would rather not speak of the royal family, especially out of turn.”

“I wouldn’t sell you out, Lokes, promise.”

“Even so, the eyes and ears of the Allfather are vast. I would rather speak of your lessons, or even my time on your world.”

Tony looked disappointed, but, unlike his insistent questions on other topics, he seemed willing to accept Loki’s reticence. Frankly, if what Tony had implied was anything to go by, it wouldn’t even be suspicious, rather, he would be behaving as any other on Asgard: for no one wished to talk about Loki Odinson.

Not even the bastard Jotun himself.

Chapter Text

Returning to more light-hearted topics was a relief, but Loki still felt a thread of worry as they spoke.

Tony re-directed them to magic - a supposedly safe subject – but he wanted to learn about Loki’s progress as a fledgling mage. No one, save his mother, had ever cared about his lessons. Loki wanted to tell him, enjoyed mentioning his successes and even humorous failures as the mortal laughed. It prompted Tony to explain about his own craft and inventions. His expression often wistful, even a little pained, but his depictions never wavering.

But for every story they shared, Loki had to be careful, to edit his tales so that they did not pinpoint him so thoroughly as royal. Private tutors, lessons with none save his brother, Alfheim mages from other realms brought over solely for the purpose.

He could not be seen as a prince or Loki knew all would be lost.

And although he could not showcase his seidr outside the room designated for teaching, Loki was still able to paint images with his words; to captivate the mortal in a way that remained startling.

It was so unlike anything that should reasonably occur. His mere personality should send the man far from his side - but the mortal continued to laugh, to listen, to stay.

It made it too easy to forget the time.

Although they had been seated (eating and doing little to strain the mortal’s wound) when Tony gestured too broadly with his arm amid his storytelling, pain streaked across his face and he hunched, pulling his arm close to his chest.

“Tony?” He questioned, shifting toward the mortal, ready and willing to aid him.

“I’m fine,” Tony protested, but his voice was whisper soft.

“You are clearly not,” Loki replied, but kept his voice gentle.

“It’ll pass,” Tony insisted, closing his eyes and breathing shallowly.

Loki waited, watching him carefully and keeping one arm half-raised lest he need to grab the mortal or conjure seidr. His restrictions would keep him from much, but the blatant use would be enough to force Odin’s attention and, hopefully, allow him access for another quick teleport.

But, despite his preparations and worries, slowly the pained frown on Tony’s brow smoothed out. He opened his eyes again, fixing Loki with a sheepish look.

“Sorry,” he said. “Still don’t always remember I can’t do broad gestures anymore. You’d think it would stick after the first time it hurt.”

He was trying to lighten the mood, but Loki’s gaze had turned to the man’s chest. He rarely observed it, realising it would be a sensitive topic, but the man’s actions had forced his attention.

“You want to know what happened to me.”

Loki’s gaze snapped up, seeing the man’s guarded and worn features. It was a stark change from his previously happy and lighter countenance. Loki did not like it nor want to see it linger.

“I may have questions,” Loki said, “but that does not mean I have a right to ask them or that you need answer them.” He smiled faintly. “I would much prefer a topic of mutual enjoyment - just, perhaps, with less gesturing.”

Slowly, Tony smiled. It wasn’t as wide or bright as some of his previous ones, but it managed to be softer. Warmer.

“You could ask them,” he said quietly. “Not my favourite topic, but if you want your chance. This is it.”

Despite the obvious discomfort of the topic, there was something open, almost trusting in his gaze. He was looking at Loki as if he’d earned the right to pry.

Foolish sentiment.

And yet, the gesture touched Loki. So, few people trusted him with anything. Nor offered to speak to him about something so personal.

But, he does not know you are the second prince.

It cut through any burgeoning delight to bring him painfully back to reality. For he did not deserve any answers. After all, Tony hardly knew the truth about him.

“I thank you,” Loki said quietly. “I am aware of the magnitude of such an offer, but, as I said, I’d prefer a topic we would both enjoy.”

Tony eyed him, tilting his head and narrowing his eyes. Loki didn’t know how the words would be taken: would the man grow offended that he did not take the offer? Yet, somehow, it seemed he had answered right, as the earlier lightness and even fondness returned to his expression.

“What do you know? Only took me going to another planet to have someone decide, even with a free pass, they don’t want to interview me.”

Loki frowned, the comment making him wonder something he had not considered before.

“On your world,” he began, speaking cautiously, “you are someone to be admired?”

Tony snorted. “Admired? Probably not. Sure, people like Iron Man enough. But Tony Stark? He’s not so much recommended as… good for publicity.”

Loki’s frown deepened and he wanted to puzzle that out further; to understand what the man was like when not among Asgard’s golden halls and praised by all for his heroics in battle.

But where there were things that he did not wish to speak about, it was clear Tony was the same.

“If you don’t mind, I uh, would rather not talk about that.”

He was back to grimacing. He was also staring at their meal, but not seeming to see it. Loki, once again, felt a fresh bolt of sympathy and sadness. Where he might not feel at home upon Asgard, neither did Tony. He was also longing for a world that, due to his wounds, he might never see again.

“Of course,” Loki said. “What shall we discuss?”

“What about some more about you?” Tony asked. “You’re the most interesting person I’ve met so far. Did you know all anyone else wants to talk about is hunts, battles and what’s for dinner?”

Loki smiled thinly. “I see you’ve met the Warriors Three.”

“Oh God,” Tony groaned theatrically. “I might have faked a bad turn just to catch a break. Eir’s better company.”

Loki huffed a small laugh while trying not to let his bitterness show. And for a moment, he half-imagined a different scenario where he was not disgraced and where Tony was not mortal. When they escaped together and went somewhere private to discuss things more to their tastes while gently mocking Thor and his friends brainless activities.

A swell of longing took Loki by surprise.

He had thought he was past the point of wishing for a companion. He had spent the last year in solitude and now, despite so short an acquaintance, this mortal seemed to have wedged his way not only into Loki’s high regard but into making him want a friend.

Foolish, ridiculous sentiment. This is a shield-brother and friend of Thor’s.

And were that not problem enough, the man had no idea who he was. He was also mortal, and he was dying.

“Loki?” Tony asked. “You look like you went a million miles away.”

“Apologies,” Loki murmured. “My mind did wander.”

“Didn’t look like it went to a good place.”

The words were light-hearted but when he met the mortal’s gaze, he could see something open and almost welcoming. It was an expression similar to something Frigga had worn in the past when she wanted him to know she would not pry, but she would listen if he wished to speak.

But what could he say to Tony that would not paint him so thoroughly as the hated second prince?

Should I say anything at all? I am here to teach him what he seeks to know, not encourage conversation and… familiarity. Merely one wrong word and I will be a blight on his reputation. He should not be ruined by my bad name.

“It is nothing,” Loki deflected.

He looked from the mortal back at their eaten meal. He then flicked his gaze toward the sky. They had been out for some time already, and the man had already hurt himself once.

“We have been here quite some time,” he murmured. “Perhaps we should-”

“Yeah, don’t do that.”

Loki blinked and looked back at the mortal. “Pardon?”

His open expression had changed to something more closed off. “If you’ve realised you’ve just wasted time with me and want to go do more important things that’s fine. But don’t blame it on my-”

“I was not,” Loki interjected, frowning. “While I do not wish you to overtax yourself, I assure you, ‘wasting my time’ is not something I feel in the slightest.”

It was Tony’s turn to frown, he also shifted, better facing Loki and peering at him, seemingly trying to look inside his head.

“So, you don’t want to get rid of me?”

Logically, Loki knew it was the perfect opportunity to get rid of the mortal. He could lie smoothly and choose painful words that would force Tony from him. And while there would be consequences from Frigga and Odin, not to mention once again losing his seidr, Loki found it was none of those reasons that kept the words in check.

Rather, Loki found he could not hurt the mortal. Tony had done nothing to him, had in fact, given him something to look forward to. While he doubted their continued time together would be of benefit to Tony, he still wanted it.

“No,” Loki answered truthfully, “I do not. I enjoy my time with you.”

Tony smiled; it lit up his face and Loki swallowed. His heart, quite damningly, sped up at the sight.

“Then, how about we just enjoy ourselves?” Tony asked. “If we’re having fun, what else matters?”

Too many things to list.

And yet, at the core, what else did matter? Perhaps Tony, with his mortality and looming death, was merely living in the moment and taking every opportunity as it came. And really, how was he any different? A prisoner with no other person whom would talk to him, no other place to go but the palace; why should he not enjoy his time with the mortal for as long as he had it?

“You’re right,” Loki said.

Tony chuckled. He also leant a little closer and bumped their shoulders together.

“Hate to break it to you, Lokes. But I’m always right. You’ll have to get used to it.”

Loki snorted, but he was smiling. He also felt warm where the man had touched him and he could not help but note that, after their touch, Tony did not try and decrease the gap. Instead, they now sat even closer, at least one part of their body always touching.

Loki wasn’t sure if the mortal noticed it, but he did. And despite knowing it would only end badly, Loki allowed the moment and the emotion to wash over him. Tony had suggested they enjoy themselves and Loki had decided to do just that.

After their meal in the garden, the camaraderie between them seemed to grow. Although he had spent a portion of the first three days with Tony, he found that in the week to follow, the tradition didn’t end. They would spend hours together; mostly in the magic room discussing seidr and with Loki demonstrating his magic or explaining the texts.

But they would also walk through the garden, stopping at one of the many seats to speak, not just about seidr but about anything else Tony questioned: the architecture (haven’t you guys heard of other materials and colours that aren’t gold?), the tea and food that Loki had introduced him to (I never thought I would ever say a tea is as good as coffee but this stuff? It’s ridiculously good. And you got any more of those red berries?) and even other Aesir (is there a trick for sneaking around those nosy guards? You think they’d make a lot more noise with all that armour, instead, they seem to pop out of nowhere.)

When they were together, Loki could almost forget the sole reason he had met the man. They got along, he was always excited to meet with him and regretted parting. And, after seven days without incident, the truth had conveniently fell to the back of his mind.

But then, in the middle of a lesson, Tony keeled over.

He’d stood abruptly, face alight with passion and delight, only for his skin to turn grey and he fell forward. Loki caught him, his heart immediately going to his throat as he held the mortal against him.

“I will get us to the healers.”

His drew his seidr, preparing to teleport when-

“No!” Tony gasped in a breath as Loki stilled. “No. Fuck. It’ll pass. It’s not,” he pulled in a rough breath, “worth it.”

“Not worth it?” Loki demanded. “How is it not worth it? You are in pain!”

“And it will pass,” he gritted out.

Yet, for all he sounded angry and wounded, slowly, the tight grip Tony had on his arm started to loosen, colour started to return to his pallid skin. The minutes passed excruciatingly slowly and Loki’s gaze kept darting over the man’s face, ready at a moment’s notice to take the mortal to Eir - but, after almost ten minutes, Tony was able to push from his side and stand on reasonably steady feet.

He walked back to his seat and collapsed heavily onto it. Loki continued to watch him, but he was relieved that no blood painted his lips this time.

“Sorry,” Tony said. “Hoped you wouldn’t see an attack like this.”

“Attack?” Loki questioned, horrified. “Are these common?”

Tony grimaced. “We don’t have to go into this. We can go back to what we were discussing. We can-”

“Forgive me, Tony, but I am hardly going to ignore you almost collapsing onto the floor.”

Loki crossed his arms for good measure, hoping his frustration would mask the very real concern and fear that had burrowed into his breast. Despite Tony’s words about it passing, he’d been genuinely afraid it wouldn’t. He’d also been hit, rather abruptly, by the reminder that no matter how light-hearted their days had been, how adapt Tony had been at minimising and hiding his condition. The man truly was not on Asgard for a learning expedition.

How foolish you have been to forget it even momentarily.

But he had. Companionship after so long alone had clouded even his judgement.

You always did like illusions.

He winced at his own rebuke, but Tony didn’t seem to notice, his gaze had drifted to the floor. His face had also become drawn and flat. There was not even a spark of his usual good humour.

“You’re not stupid, Loki,” Tony said quietly. “You know I’m not here on vacation.”

Loki swallowed hard. He also hesitated but eventually grabbed the other chair in the room and brought it to rest beside Tony’s. He sat down.

“I have not asked about what happened to you.”

“But you’re going to now?”

“If you will tell me.”

Tony sighed. He also brought one hand to his chest, touching it gently.

“I got this before Thor showed up. That’s a long story I don’t want to get into, but it saved my life and keeps me alive. Has its downsides, but I engineered it to power my armour. But when I was fighting with the Avengers, I took a shot meant for Thor.”

He chuckled roughly.

“Probably sounds stupid, a mortal protecting a demi-god, but we needed him in that battle. I took a calculated risk to try and keep him fighting. It worked, but it fucked up my tech. I still don’t know what it did, but it corrupted it somehow. I can’t take it out to put a new one back in, and Eir can’t reverse the damage. My arc reactor and magic don’t mix. Eir said it’s a wonder something didn’t explode.”

Tony finally turned and met his gaze.

“She’s given me two more months, tops. The attacks will happen every few days. She says they’re like spasms. They’ll get worse and more frequent towards the end. When I reach that point, she’ll confine me to the healing rooms so she can stop them before they start.”

“Tony,” Loki whispered, feeling so utterly powerless.

The mortal turned away again.

“Thor brought me here to try and help. When we worked out that she couldn’t do it, I made a deal with Odin. Eir can treat me better than anyone on Earth and at least up here, no one is going to have to sit at my bedside and watch.” He shrugged. “It’s not that bad, really. I get to learn magic, get treated like a prince and, after everything I’ve done, it’s hardly the worst way I could go out.”

For the longest time, Loki didn’t know how to react. He had known the mortal was ill, had assumed himself that he was dying, but he had let the realisation lapse, he had enjoyed himself too much and now he was paying for his hubris.

He ached because he did not want Tony to die. He did not want to… lose him.

Loki didn’t know what emotion was on his face, but when Tony turned to him, his expression creased into sympathy. Sympathy. He patted Loki’s shoulder.

“Hey, don’t go getting all soft on me. Shit happens, you know? At least I can have a bit of fun before I go.” His expression changed, looking worried. “We can still keep hanging out, right? I know I’m a bit useless at times, but my mind’s still firing on all cylinders and your clone of me is still shit and-”

“Of course we can,” Loki interjected, not wanting to see any more doubt on his face. He had to clear his throat to remove the roughness but he insisted, “It would be my honour to continue to spend time with you, Tony Stark.”

Tony finally smiled. It was a shadow of his earlier beam, but it looked genuine enough. Loki’s ache only intensified because this man had only months of life and he was choosing to spend it with him.

It seemed so wholly unfair that a man as bright as a sun, a heroic shield-brother of Thor and someone so obviously good would have his life snatched away while he – Loki Liesmith, fallen prince, villain and Jotun, could expect to live for centuries more.

No, he thought, determination and anger flooding him. I will not have it.

Surely there was something that he, a trained and talented mage, could do that Eir had not thought of? Surely he could fix the wound in the mortal’s chest?

He had two months. It was not much, but Loki would make it be enough.

Chapter Text

When he left Tony for the day, Loki didn’t go directly to his rooms as was customary, instead he went to the library. He’d been there many times since the release from his chambers, but this was the first time he had gone with purpose. Before, he’d walked the familiar aisles aimlessly, unable to truly hate a place that had always been his greatest weapon and strongest comfort.

Now, it would help him anew.

He easily located the shelves on healing texts and began reading the titles. He knew Eir had extensive knowledge on the subject and he couldn't hope to best her in overall understanding, but that wasn't the purpose of his research. Tony’s wound was a twisted mix of spellwork and Midgardian metal but it hadn’t been done deliberately. The spell had been flung in battle, with the intended target of Thor. While accidental spells were always far more unstable then prepared ones; a counter curse or unravelling was merely the work of finding the right string and plucking.

Skimming the books, Loki took a few that seemed promising.

While a refresh in healing magics was necessary, he did not intend to remain researching it for long. He went to different sections, collecting almost twenty tomes dealing with wounds or curses involving objects. He wanted to focus on the nature of Tony’s device. The mortal had said that the item kept him alive, if he could mimic the device’s effects through magic, perhaps he could also stem or at least slow the damage? If his or Eir’s magic could work as a filter, keeping the harsher magics out, perhaps they could keep him alive just long enough to solve the problem entirely?

For now, he needed a way to prove the theory possible, then he could alter it to fit the mortal’s needs and the device’s nature.

He brought the selected tomes to his long-favoured table sequestered towards the back of the library and opened his first book.

He'd known that reading and note-taking would be a time-consuming process; it always was when one was researching seidr, but even so, he hadn't expect exactly how immersed he would become. He hardly noticed the time passing. He was lost to the world in a way only magic could inspire, so much so, that he didn’t even register a presence beside him until they took a seat. He startled and his head snapped up. It was Frigga. He tensed but she didn’t look at him, instead, she lifted the cover of a discarded book.

“You have never been fond of healing spells,” she remarked.

He said nothing.

“Nor are you so easily preoccupied to be unaware of my presence for a full five minutes.”

Loki cringed and Frigga finally turned to observe him.

“I can only surmise that you have learnt the true extent of Tony Stark’s injury.”

Loki looked away, staring at one of the nearby shelves.

“His condition was hardly secret,” Loki answered flatly. “Nor was I oblivious to the item in his chest. I learned of it on his first lesson.”

“When you teleported him to Eir.”

Loki gritted his teeth, freshly frustrated by how closely he was monitored.

“It was not Odin who told me,” Frigga said, as if reading his mind. “I speak with Eir every few days to hear of the mortal’s condition.”

“And what of his condition?” Loki demanded, looking back at her. “What more can you tell me of Eir’s failed attempts to reverse his injury?”

“Eir is the senior healer and the most talented on our realm-”

“A talented healer,” Loki interrupted. “Not the most talented mage.” Frigga almost seemed to smile and Loki immediately narrowed his eyes. “What?”

“It has merely been some time since I have seen you so animated, Loki.”

“Should I not be animated?” He snapped. “Or does Odin simply wish the heroic mortal to die upon his realm?”

Frigga ignored his snipe and continued to watch him closely. Eventually she said, her voice gentle, “You have become fond of this mortal, haven’t you?”

Loki’s body coiled tighter at her statement.

“And if I have?” He gritted out, not liking the feeling of being cornered and picked apart.

“It is no condemnation, Loki,” she said, gently. “I am merely grateful that you are enjoying your time with him.”

Limited time, he couldn't help thinking. Gone in a heartbeat if I cannot achieve what Eir has failed to do.

“I too have not given up hope for a cure,” Frigga continued, unaware of his thoughts, “and if I can aid in your endeavour to heal him, I would like to. Can I be of help to you tonight?”

Loki’s emotions were always turbulent around Frigga, but they only churned more at her words. It was not just the implication of his fondness for Tony and the mortal's condition, it was the harsh reminder of the past. They'd been through this a hundred times; when he’d been a boy and had gotten lost for days in the library. He’d only emerged when Frigga had found him and enquired what he studied and if she could help.

Back then, their conversations had been rife with amusement and affection. Even when he had outgrown his tutors and studies, when the Asgardian library had not so wholly immersed him, sometimes, she had still found him only to request a conversation or that he join her for a meal.

Now, their relationship was nowhere near as simple. He didn't feel comfortable with her nor the way their current circumstances mirrored the past, but he could not disregard her aid. Tony’s affliction was weighing heavily on his mind. Every hour without a solution was an hour Tony was in pain and slipping further away. He had no choice.

He did not look at her, focusing on the text in front of him, but he requested, “Tell me all you know of his wound and what Eir has done to try to save him.”

Frigga did not comment on his averted gaze; she merely started talking. Loki listened attentively, the words washing over him.

And for all that he wished it did not; Loki couldn’t help feeling calmed by her soothing, familiar voice. It had been far too long without her presence at his side, and for all that he wanted to despise her and her company, he couldn’t.

She remained his mother, and while fearful and upset about the ailing health of the mortal he was coming to care for, her presence helped in ways he would never admit, not even to himself.

Frigga had stayed for almost an hour before exhausting all she could tell him. When she’d finished, he’d instinctively tensed but she’d stood without prompting. She’d then wished him well and offered to assist again if he needed her. He’d given a stiff nod but said nothing nor looked at her.

After she'd left, he'd been forced to ponder not only what she had explained about Tony—her answers more damning than he had expected. Eir, it seemed, had been willing to try more creative and non-traditional methods than he had given her credit for—but also his mixed emotions.

Her presence had comforted him and he didn't like what that implied. But his thoughts about Tony weighed even heavier. Her explanations of his condition had only broadened the ache in his breast. He had refused to believe a solution was impossible, but now he worried that when it did come it would be too late.

When he finally packed up the tomes and left the library, he’d decided to keep his attempts from Tony. He had no wish to offer the man false hopes, but he did plan to visit Eir and discuss her treatments in person. Her seidr might be finely tuned to healing, but his could be funnelled into a variety of other spells. He also had far larger seidr stores. While she would likely be resistant to his presence, she wouldn’t be foolish enough to discard his assistance entirely. A despised and unwanted prisoner he might be, but he was still be the best chance for Tony's survival.

And as much as he wished to go directly to the healing rooms; to waste no time while Tony was suffering - he knew he would do himself no favours by waking her from slumber. So, instead, he went to his chambers and attempted to rest.

But sleep did not come easily.

His mind remained on the mortal: even at rest, his thoughts were filled with Tony. The mortal’s warmth and smiles haloed by the sun-lit garden - and then his violent coughing as he leant against him, blood staining his once grinning lips.

The latter image was what woke him, making him jerk upright in bed, his arm outstretched for a man that was not there. An instinct that was the height of foolishness because, of all the places on Asgard, his bed would be the most impossible place to find Tony.

But with such a dream on his mind, he did not try to sleep any longer. It was near enough to dawn that, while he did not feel rested, he saw no reason to waste further time in his chambers. He dressed, ate a quick meal and went to the healing rooms.

The place had been nearly empty, the torches only just being lit by the apprentices. Eir had been one of the few present so early and had been noticeably surprised by his arrival.

Unwilling to offer her the chance to send him to another healer, he had started firing questions about the spells monitoring Tony. She had eyed him for the longest time, surprise obvious in her raised eyebrows, but she had eventually gestured him into her private room. It was a spot not seen by many non-healers and inside, Loki had found a virtual pile of books; far exceeding the amount he had been referencing the previous night. She’d pointed him at the single chair opposite her desk and started to talk. It had quickly turned out that despite explaining the limitations of her current spell work to Tony and Frigga, she had not given up on him either. She was also happy to accept his assistance.

They spoke for an hour and her explanations were… bleak. But he had seen, created, and read about marvels with seidr. They would simply make Tony’s recovery a new one to be documented in tomes throughout the Nine. Tony would survive, he would see to it.

His determination also seemed to invigorate Eir anew, and he left with their mutual promise to share their research and tackle different avenues in order to cover as much ground as possible.

He had planned to go directly to the library and continue his research from the previous evening. But, on his way through the palace, he unexpectedly found the man of his thoughts walking down the same hallway.

He stilled, surprised to see him, Tony looked equally startled, but an immediate smile broke out on the mortal’s face.

“Loki, hey!” He greeted, quickly closing the distance. “Just the mage I was looking for.”

Loki blinked. “You were seeking me?” He frowned. “Is there something amiss?” His stomach twisted with disappointment as a fresh thought occurred to him. “Do we need to postpone our meeting?”

“No. I mean, I don’t think so? Guess it’s going to depend on, erm, well, you.”

Loki’s frown deepened. “I’m afraid you will need to be clearer.”

“Right.” Tony let out a breath, he then ran a hand through his hair. “I was a bit restless; you know? Shit night sleep. Anyway, I was looking for you or Frigga, mostly you but her if I couldn’t to pass on a message.”

“What message?”

“Right. Well, I just thought we could take a bit of a break from the study? Go for a walk?” He shrugged. “Maybe hang out a bit longer than usual?”

Disappointment immediately turned to delight.

“Of course,” he agreed, unwilling to miss the chance for greater time with the mortal, even if it did mean a longer break between researching. “We can go to the gardens and-”

“Actually,” Tony interrupted. “I was thinking we could go into town.”

Loki’s heart seemed to freeze; panic and the immediate desire to deflect, avoid, change his mind rearing. A thousand manipulative and coaxing solutions sprung to mind just waiting to be offered - but Loki knew he could not say them. He would not lie to Tony. The man deserved far more than his current plight provided, Loki would not add the dishonesty of a… companion to it.

“It’s just,” Tony continued, seemingly unaware of his plight, “the gardens are great and I love learning seidr, but I had… well, I just really want to get out and do something else. Look around, experience something completely different. You know?”

Loki could understand. If the oppressive weight of his mortality was weighing on him then the four walls of their magic room could feel confining. A different stimulus and means to forget would be preferable. And as much as Loki wanted to accept the offer, the rest of him knew it could not occur.

“If greater Asgard is what you seek to visit, perhaps you should go on your own. Or,” he added, disliking the mere thought but determined to push forward, “ask another. There are plenty whom-”

“I went looking for you so we could go together, Loki.”

It warmed him completely to hear that; to be chosen, to be wanted. It was something he had always sought and dreamt of in his youth; to be the chosen companion of someone he liked.

But it is all a lie.

Loki’s gaze fell, lingering on his wrists and the braces so easily dismissed as decorative jewellery but denoting him as a prisoner all the same. He did not believe he was forbidden to leave the palace, but then, he also had not tried. But even if he were allowed to leave; Tony had no idea of the person that stood at his side.

“It is a great honour to be chosen to spend a day with you,” Loki said softly. “But it would be unwise. The Warriors Three would be far greater company.” He smiled faintly. “Perhaps even the Queen, I am sure Frigga would not deny you the request if you sought her.”

“You know I don’t like Thor’s friends that much,” Tony said, puzzlement obvious in his voice. “And you’re giving me a lot of mixed signals. Is it just the going to town thing?”

Yes, he wanted to say, but he also knew it wouldn’t be entirely true. Moreover, he knew the mortal: his incessant curiosity, his incredibly sharp mind. He would turn the problem over until he had uncovered the answer.

There is no choice.

The situation he had been avoiding since he’d begun to enjoy their time together had finally come to pass.

At least if he stops associating with me, I will have every hour of every day to turn towards his wound.

It gave him enough confidence to speak, even if he still could not lift his gaze.

“It is the town,” he said softly. “But it is also your reputation.”

“Reputation doesn’t mean a lot to me,” Tony answered. “Mine’s always taken nose dives on Earth and managed to recover. Besides, it’s even less of a factor for me on Asgard.”

There was something about the way he said it that caught Loki’s ear. He frowned and finally lifted his head. Tony was watching him; still open, still with a half-smile, no longer puzzled as if his earlier confusion had cleared.

And that didn’t make sense, not unless…

“Do you know who I am?”

“Did I figure out that the rumours pointed to a specific person and then confirmed it when someone finally said the second prince’s name?”

Loki winced, and yet, no damnations followed, nor did the man walk away. In fact, he hadn’t walked away when it was clear that he had simply… known.

“How long?”

“Figured it out a few days after you said you didn’t want to talk about the royals.” Tony huffed a laugh. “Nice sidestep by the way.”

“I did not deliberately deceive you,” Loki hurried to say, desperate to be believed. “I never once lied.”

“Just kept quiet when it was obvious that I was oblivious.”

Loki winced again, but Tony still didn’t sound angry. He hadn't flung accusations or cursed him for his 'trick'. It was more than he'd ever been offered in the past and that, more than anything, made him yearn to explain.

“I thought it would be easier, at first,” Loki said. “I thought you would not remain for longer than a few hours in my company.” He swallowed. “After the first day I'd decided that if others had not told you, I would not be the one to do it either.” He glanced away. “And then, I did not want you to know.”

“Because it would mean I’d avoid you like everyone else apart from the Queen,” Tony acknowledged. Loki nodded and Tony sighed. “Look, I’ll admit, after I worked it out, I went and spoke to Frigga.” Loki’s head snapped up. Tony shrugged. “Everyone else seemed to hate your guts, she didn’t. I wanted an alternative opinion on you.”

“And what did she tell you?” Loki asked; unsure if he even wanted an answer.

“She said you’d been betrayed by people you trusted,” Tony said, something sympathetic and understanding in his gaze. “That it hurt you deeply and that, in response, you did something you would never normally condone – but an act that only half the realm disapproved of.”

Loki looked away, a fresh ache forming, not only over the words but that they had come from Frigga; one of the very people who had harmed him so irrevocably.

“She also said you’ve never been well liked, that it made the betrayal even worse. She said you’re in repentance, but don’t seem inclined to change that.” Loki heard footsteps before a hand was gently placed on his arm. “She also said I should get to know you myself rather than listen to the words of others.”

Loki finally looked back at the mortal, still finding nothing hateful or disgusted in his expression. He remained friendly, even compassionate. But the man didn’t know what he’d done, didn’t know anything beyond Frigga’s honeyed words and the hated ones from the rest of the realm.

Yet, he was still here; standing before him, touching him all while knowing he was Prince Loki.

And it left him feeling equally brave and fearful.

“And what have you decided?” Loki asked, his voice feeling and sounding raw, "What do you think after getting to know me?"

Tony grinned; the same bright, warm expression that had appeared in his dreams and lingered in his mind long after they’d parted.

“That I’d like to go into town and be shown around. Didn’t we already cover that, Lokes?”

And with such an answer; what else could Loki do, but accept?

Chapter Text

Good fortune had never favoured Loki.

It was a fact he had ample evidence to support and it was why he found Tony's continued companionship hard to accept. This was a Midgardian hero and shield brother of Thor. Yet, here they stood, shoulder to shoulder, leaving the palace and entering Asgard’s golden streets. Had there been a prudent reason, a sanctified order from Odin or even a piece of information he alone could provide, it would be plausible. But instead, Tony had decided to spend a day in public with him.

Truthfully, he’d expected them to be stopped; that Odin, Thor - someone would disapprove and intervene but the manacles hadn’t even warmed. The Einherjar at the entrance had barely glanced at him. They’d stepped into the town and despite numerous stares, Tony had remained. He’d even started to talk, to ask questions and grin the way he did when they were alone in the gardens or in the magic room. He was no different to normal and Loki… he wanted it fiercely, but it still seemed unjust.

It was why, before they had walked far, he gently grabbed the man’s arm and pulled him to the side. He led them into an alleyway, feeling his shoulders relax a fraction as the familiar shadows kept him from sight.

“Loki?”

“This is not right,” Loki insisted. “Just because you know me, it doesn’t mean that you should be seen in my company.”

“Loki, I really don’t care.”

“But, I-”

“Look,” Tony interrupted, his voice firm. “I’m dying. You get that, right? I don’t have a lot of time, and right now, you’re the person I like the most on Asgard. I’m trying to have a good few months, and I’d like to spend them hanging out with you.”

Loki’s words dried up, a sudden lump lodging in his throat. He was not one to give in easily, but would could he say? What defence did he have when Tony laid out such harsh but honest facts? If the man had chosen him; despite rumours, despite whispers, without any care for answers or explanations… why did he have to fight it?

Then, how about we just enjoy ourselves? If we’re having fun, what else matters?

Tony’s words from before flashed through his mind, and once again, he couldn’t find a reason to ignore the mortal’s suggestion. He did not want Tony to die, he would do everything in his power to stop that, but when he wasn’t researching… he could give Tony what he sought. He would be the companion Tony desired. The person who helped chase his impending pain and future away.

And, selfishly, he would relish every moment of it.

“If you insist,” Loki said quietly.

“I do.”

“Then I shall offer no further protest.”

Tony grinned. “Jeez, Loki, way to make it sound like I’m a pain to hang out with.”

“No,” Loki harshly denied. “No, it is the opposite.” He looked back at the street and the multitude of Aesir who would soon frown or sneer at his presence. “You were right earlier,” he confessed. “I am not well liked. I never have been. To have someone whom genuinely chooses me? It is beyond rare.” Loki chuckled bitterly. “I just hope that this afternoon won't tarnish your thoughts on me too greatly.”

“But you expect it to?” Loki shrugged absently, his gaze still scanning the people walking past the alley. “Loki, when was the last time you left the palace?”

“Before my sentence.”

Tony was quiet and when Loki glanced back, he seemed a little sad. Loki couldn’t deduce what had inspired it, but before he could puzzle it out more, Tony was breaking from his hold. He felt a brief spike of disappointment and hurt - but instead of pulling away entirely, Tony shifted and took his arm. He tugged him gently and Loki only resisted for a moment before allowing himself to be manoeuvred.

They re-entered the street and Loki’s gaze flickered over the people; most ignored them, some looked at him with disgust, a few more seemed startled and confused by Tony, but no one approached or condemned them. No one spat, which Loki had half expected.

Tony started speaking again; asking about the town, pointing out things, querying structures and technology. It was just like before and still so reminiscent of their lessons and conversations that, when prompted, Loki started to answer.

In response, Tony flashed him a smile; the expression as bright and blinding as ever. He knew that he should look away. He should keep scanning the populace to seek out enemies and glares - but to what point? His seidr was withheld, his reputation in ruins, and his life meaningless. The only true enjoyment came from this: the man at his side, making him feel wanted and liked. So, why should he waste a moment looking at them, when he could instead be looking at him?

Let them attack me, if they dare. Let them wound me and take their slice of flesh if they are bold. Otherwise, let them despise me from the roadside.

He had never once let their distaste rule him, and he would not let them win today. He might be the bastard traitorous Jotun, but he was still the most skilled mage on Asgard and the smartest of anyone in the court. He was Loki Liesmith and he would let nothing, not even himself ruin today.

He was the requested companion of Tony Stark and he would make sure that, for as long as he was chosen, he would keep the man smiling.

It was a long time since Loki had merely… had fun.

Their activities were slightly hindered by Tony’s condition, requiring them to take rests in quiet courtyards or sitting on small stone walls. At one point, they had even retired to a tavern for a drink and something small to eat.

Despite the interruptions, Loki couldn’t fault the day.

No one, it seemed, was willing to treat him poorly if it meant disrupting Tony. Even the food they were presented with at the tavern came speedily. Loki paid for it despite Tony offering a faint protest. He'd also offered another when Loki had purchased him a decorative scroll depicting an old fable.

“What are you doing?”

“Purchasing it for you.”

“Loki. No. Come on, it’s cool and everything but I’m not-”

“You like it. You have no gold here. Why should I not gift it to you?”

He’d exchanged gold with the merchant and held up the now rolled scroll for the mortal. Tony had continued to frown, but Loki had stared back, refusing to stand down.

Eventually and with a grumble, Tony had taken it. Loki had hidden his pleased smile as he'd directed them back towards the palace. While he would have happily spent the entire day with Tony, he had started to notice the sweat on the man’s brow. By the time they’d returned, he’d been guiding Tony with a hand on his back. They’d gone direct to the healing rooms where Eir had been waiting for them. She’d tutted with blatant disapproval.

“Awh, come on Eir. Don’t deny me a nice day.”

“A day better spent resting.”

Tony had screwed up his face in noticeable distaste before glancing at Loki. He’d even leant more fully against him, openly trusting him to take his weight.

“Good thing I’ve got Lokes on my side.”

Loki had been helpless to do anything but smile, especially when the man was still clutching the scroll tightly against his chest. Unfortunately, the moment had been lost all too soon as Eir had strode forward and separated them in order to get Tony to a bed.

Tony hadn’t fought off her touch, but before he’d been able to step away, Tony’s free hand had snagged his jacket.

“You’ll still come find me tomorrow, right?”

“Of course.”

“How about breakfast in the gardens? We can plan our day there.”

Loki had felt a burst of joy. A day implied more than just a few hours together.

“I would enjoy that.”

Tony had smiled back, but he’d only been able to admire it for a few moments before Eir had forcibly led Tony away. Loki had stayed watching until they were out of sight before leaving with a sigh.

The day truly had been wonderful; full of discussions and even laughter. Tony had managed to make the familiar, dreary streets of Asgard come alive. He’d only wanted it to continue; to take Tony to other places on the realm, perhaps even introduce him to some of his favourite pastimes. But it wasn't to be, not today, possibly not at all. It would all depend on his condition and the energy Tony had to expend.

Because, as it always did, the man’s wound reminded him of exactly what was at stake if he couldn’t find a solution. It was why he didn’t head to his rooms, instead, he went directly to the library and grabbed fresh tomes to begin his researching anew.

However, this time, he found his preferred table occupied by Frigga. She had a book open before her but, unlike him, she was not oblivious to her surroundings. She lifted her head immediately and offered a small smile.

“Loki.”

“Frigga.”

Her expression tightened minutely; something many would not notice, but he had come to expect it whenever he said her name rather than what she had once been to him.

“I heard you spent the day outside the palace.”

“Yes.”

“Did Tony enjoy it?”

“Yes.”

She watched him carefully. “And what of you?”

Loki hesitated. Normally, such a question would prompt him to snap defensively, but after such a good day, he did not wish to ruin it.

“I did,” he said quietly.

Her smile softened. “That is wonderful, Loki.”

He glanced away and quickly redirected the conversation, “Tony is with the healers now. I intend to research his wound.”

“And you wish to do so in solitude,” Frigga said softly.

Loki didn’t look at her, not until he heard the chair move. When he glanced back, he found her standing with the book in her arms. He could not read the title from his current distance, but he did not recall seeing it in either of the sections he’d been in the previous evening. He was curious as to what it was, but not enough to ask.

“I wish you success, Loki.” She started to leave, but paused when she reached him. She held his gaze and after a long moment said, “I am pleased you had a good day. I hope you will both continue to have many in the future.”

She left with a nod that he barely had a chance to return. Loki stared after her, feeling a fresh twist of emotions that he still had no wish to untangle.

Instead, he looked at the table she had used, debating his choice, but in the end, he did not select another. He sat down in the seat that would have placed him opposite her. He then opened his first book and unrolled fresh parchment. He hoped that with a few hours of uninterrupted research, he could come to Eir with fresh ideas and a new treatment to trial.

Because he, like Frigga, wanted to have many more days with Tony.

In a way, it was probably inevitable that while Frigga might support their association, others would not.

Loki hadn’t considered it overmuch, he’d been focused on his research and had only retired so as to be rested for his day with Tony. He’d arranged for food to be brought to the gardens and had left to meet the mortal. He’d spoken to no one save the servants and so, he’d been unprepared to reach their usual spot only to find Tony pacing, a veritable storm cloud above his head. Loki had stilled briefly before cautiously continuing forward.

“Tony?” He called. “Are you well?”

“Fucking peachy,” Tony growled.

Loki frowned but continued to close the distance. He’d have expected despair or frustration if Eir had given him fresh restrictions or a worsening prognosis. But, even with that ruled out, it left a multitude of possible reasons for his foul mood.

“Would you like me to leave you?” Loki questioned.

“Fuck no. Making their day is the last thing I want.”

“Ah,” Loki breathed, everything becoming clear. “Someone has advised you to stop associating with me.”

Tony rounded on him, and he was met with the full force of the man’s anger.

“Did those fuckers really think insulting you was going to change my mind? Did they even realise that half of what they said was a backhanded insult to me?”

“The Warriors Three, I presume?”

“A few others too, but yeah, you bet those fuckers were the ringleaders.”

Loki hummed. He also took a seat on the nearby bench, hoping it would encourage Tony.

“Perhaps you should sit. I know that Eir would not approve of how much energy you’re expending.”

“She also wouldn’t approve of me grabbing one of my gauntlets and punching one of them in the face.”

Loki smiled faintly, feeling a burst of fondness. “She would not, and as much as I am flattered by your willingness to do so, it would be of no benefit to you in the long run.”

Tony paused mid-step and slowly turned around. His narrowed, infuriated gaze still highlighted his displeasure but he also seemed to be searching, as if trying to find the answer to unasked questions.

“You’re talking about my reputation again,” he stated.

“In a manner of speaking,” Loki agreed. “While mine is a foregone conclusion, yours still has-”

“Absolutely no fucking bearing on this conversation,” Tony interjected, frustration filling his voice. “I told you I don’t care what they think of me.”

For once the statement annoyed rather than amused or softened him.

“You should,” Loki said, irritation beginning to enter his voice. “Reputation matters upon Asgard.”

“And what about your reputation?” Tony demanded. “Why don’t you seem to give a shit about it?”

“Because mine is irreparable,” Loki snapped. “My most recent actions are but a small dent in my otherwise tarnished status. I have ceased to care even slightly about their opinions, but you should not be so foolish.”

“Why the fuck does it matter?”

“Because these relationships will be useful to you in the future.”

“I don’t fucking have a future,” Tony shouted.

Loki jerked back, unable to help it at having such words thrown at him. Tony shut his eyes and pinched his nose. The silence weighed heavily and all Loki wanted was to reach out and touch the mortal; to draw him close and offer some kind of comfort.

“Sorry,” Tony said quietly, lowering his hand but not raising his gaze. “I get that you’re looking out for me, trying, I guess, to be helpful. But you and Thor, all of you, you’re used to looking at things in the centuries. I’ve got months.”

“A cure might yet be found,” Loki said, his voice hoarse. “No one has given up on it, Tony.”

Tony finally looked at him. There was resignation in his features, the acceptance of what was to come, but there was also something gentle. He closed the distance and finally sat down beside him.

“Lokes, I’m not holding my breath-”

“Tony-”

“But, even if by some miracle something is found, I’m not going to change my mind about my reputation.”

“But-”

“I’m Tony fucking Stark,” he said, his gaze unwavering. “I do what I want with who I want.”

The lump was back in Loki’s throat and he was the one who finally had to look away. When Tony leant their shoulders together, Loki wanted to laugh a bitter, frustrated sound. Because this man, this dying mortal was comforting him.

“You have too much heart,” Loki said quietly.

Tony gave a startled laugh. “Well, that’s a surprise. Most people say I don’t have one at all.”

Loki’s head whipped around and he had so much he wished to say, arguments he wanted to make as to what fools would dare say as much – but one look at Tony silenced him. The man seemed tired and weary and Loki knew he had put much of that on the man’s face.

Loki knew it was unwise, but he reached out and covered the man’s hand, Tony seemed startled and glanced down at it. Loki stayed watching his face.

“I do not wish to ruin your day anymore than I and others already have,” he said gently. “Tell me what we can do that would improve it.”

Tony looked up, his brown eyes difficult to read, but after a long moment, he gave a small smile.

“Breakfast. Then some magic chats, maybe later, you can take me to your top recommended Asgardian spots. Sound good?”

“A fine plan,” Loki agreed.

Tony’s smile widened and Loki matched it. He did not pull away his hand and Tony didn’t either – in fact, Loki felt that were it not for the arrival of servants with their food, they might have sat there for quite some time.

Loki felt certain he could have sat there forever.

Chapter Text

Loki was in trouble.

It had snuck up on him slowly; building for weeks but being purposely ignored as he avoided any acknowledgement of his… feelings.

He’d always been prone to illusions, denials and outright ignorance if it saved him from emotions or situations that would only hurt him. In a way, he had been doing it from the start with Tony; deliberately forgetting about the mortal’s wound until Tony’s pain gave him no choice but to acknowledge the grim truth.

Now, he had an even greater complication than merely liking the mortal and wanting to see him survive. Instead, he had come to… care for Tony. It was more than as a promising apprentice, greater than as a companion and friend. He had become infatuated with the mortal.

Infatuated.

As if the very Norns had decided his life had not been ruined enough, now, they had him falling for a mortal who was mere months from death’s door. Because despite his and Eir’s attempts, they had yet to make any progress. He had been ripping through the library and reading every text he could find, but they had yet to devise a solution.

He had only been at it for a week, and he knew it could take time, but he still felt a fissure of fear cracking through his every attempt. He worried that they would fail, and it left him ill at ease and sleeping fitfully.

But his days with Tony were wonderful; a complete opposite to how he felt at night. He’d taken the mortal to a number of his favoured spots. Choosing places that they could reach easily and with little strain to Tony’s wound.

He longed to take the man up in the longboats, knowing he would adore it, but he was too wary that even the most sedate journey would jostle and pain him.

Yet despite the limitations, each day was… glorious.

Too glorious.

For it was after one such day that he’d had his realisation. He had left the mortal in the afternoon feeling so tremendously happy. He’d felt lighter than he could remember. He’d been smiling just recalling their conversations and the way Tony had laughed and lightly shoved his shoulder. He’d felt a burst of warmth and longing and frozen in the middle of the hallway.

His eyes had widened and he’d been hit with the realisation of exactly how much he cared for Tony. He wanted him, not just as a friend and companion but as a partner, a lover. And it was a completely impossible situation.

He’d needed to swallow hard, to return to his chambers, rather than the library and merely absorb a situation he had blindly ignored. For a moment, he’d even yearned to find Frigga and speak with her as he’d done in the past when torn over the best course of action.

But he couldn’t – he wouldn’t.

And so, he had merely paced his chambers, cursing himself a thrice damn fool, and bitterly acknowledging the Norns’ latest cruel joke.

The additional irony of falling for a friend of Thor’s was not lost on him; for of course, covetous, lying Loki had to desire what his brother had already claimed as his own.

And while he did trust that Tony liked him and would hardly spurn him if he were healed, Loki was realistic enough to acknowledge that, if they could cure him, Tony would return to Midgard. He would become Thor’s shield-brother again leaving him to return to his isolated, lonely existence within the palace.

Their association was limited no matter the outcome - and there was also no guarantee that the mortal harboured anything even resembling attraction for him.

It had left him with only one conclusion: the best course of action was nothing at all. He would ignore what he felt and simply enjoy spending time with Tony. It would be nothing more and nothing less than what they already shared.

But just coming up with a resolution had not made it any easier to enforce.

Emotions couldn’t be switched off merely because he wished it. Had he that power, he could have eliminated his conflicting feelings when it came to Frigga, Thor and Odin. He also would have removed everything that came from the revelation of his heritage. All of those emotions were painful and had left him dangling from a bridge. Tony inspired much different, much better feelings, but Loki knew how quickly they could turn sour.

Even if the man didn’t reject him, if he and Eir failed…

But even contemplating that possibility left a hard knot in his stomach. He would rather be denied outright and see Tony return to Midgard healthy and with no plans to see him again than have him waste away in Asgard’s healing chambers.

So, he tried to curb his enjoyment, to act less like a starry-eyed maiden on their first courtship outing.

But everything Tony did; honest smiles, genuine praises, firm assurances he wouldn’t let anyone change his mind about their friendship, it all made Loki fall a little bit further.

And after one such perfect day, Loki made a fatal mistake.

They had spent the morning in the gardens, eating breakfast and conversing. Loki had then taken Tony to a different part of the city. He had been planning on showing him the longboats, even if he couldn’t take the man up in one, he could showcase their elegance gliding across the water.

However, they’d been distracted by the training grounds. Tony had paused, watching the Einherjar spar with one another. Loki had been disinterested, but had stood patiently beside the man, letting him observe.

“Is it just because they’re practicing that they aren’t taking those openings?” Tony had enquired.

“Openings?”

“Yeah, like the way that guy with the missing pinkie could have ducked in and taken a knee shot.”

“Ah,” Loki had breathed. “Well, in a manner of speaking. You see, such an act would be considered dishonourable.”

“Dishonourable,” Tony had repeated dubiously. “So, winning is a bad thing?”

Loki’s lips had twitched. “When you use underhand tactics, yes.”

Tony had scoffed. “Idiots. I mean, holding back in a spar because you’re having fun, sure. But even then if I’m constantly exposing my knee, I want to know about it.”

“As would I.”

Tony had flashed him a grin. “I bet you’d be taking that swipe if someone was stupid enough to leave it open around you.”

Loki had hesitated, but with Tony still watching him rather than those whom were fighting, he’d admitted, “Depending upon my opponent, yes.”

Tony, as perceptive as always, had thinned his lips. “But then you’d get a reputation for being dishonourable. Right?”

Loki had inclined his head. “Yes. Although, I already had one of those.” Tony frowned and he’d elaborated, “Seidr is dishonourable, Tony.”

Tony had blinked, looking bamboozled. “But Eir uses seidr.”

“Healing is an accepted practice. Seidr, you’ll find, is considered a useful craft when not used in battle.”

Tony had stared at him. “So you’re telling me that an army of mages who weren’t raised to hit above the belt, would wipe the floor with Asgard?”

Loki had hesitated, because to say such a thing was unheard of; it would be offensive to any Aesir, it would be to deny Asgard’s might… and yet.

“Possibly,” he’d answered quietly.

Tony had snorted. “Remind me to write a letter to Rogers before I fall off the twig: recommend Loki, the sane and badass mage for the Avengers Initiative.”

Loki had startled, staring at the man with utter incredulity.

“You… you would recommend me as a Midgardian hero?”

“Well you don’t have to agree. But it’s pretty obvious you’d be the guy I’d want on my team if shit was going down. You’d punch ‘em low, have seidr to decimate the enemy and the tactical brilliance to come out on top.”

“You know nothing of my tactics,” he’d whispered.

“I know your brain’s as good, if not better than mine. I’d have you at my back any day, Lokes.”

Loki had swallowed hard, not knowing how to react to such a gesture of trust and approval. But Tony had turned away and started asking about where they were going next, clearly no longer interested in the training grounds.

Loki had forcibly pulled his mind back to the task of directing them to the longboats. His heart had still felt twisted with emotion, but he’d done his best to focus on simply enjoying the rest of the day with Tony.

Tony, as expected, had adored the longboats and demanded to see one up close. Loki had found one of the men who maintained them and requested his personal boat be brought to them.

He’d felt momentary worry when the man had taken a few moments to react. Odin, after all, could have destroyed or confiscated it, but eventually he’d left.

A short time later, it had arrived, the sides still gleaming with his preferred shade of green. He’d smiled faintly before beginning to explain the mechanics. He’d also shown Tony the many ways he’d customised his longboat. It wasn’t just the colours but the type of wood and the etchings of runes to aid its performance.

Tony had grinned. “This is your baby.”

He’d startled, faintly worried this was some new myth he hadn’t learnt about. “Pardon?”

“Earth thing,” Tony had answered. “Your longboat is like me and my cars. You’ve worked on her, loved her and got her to peak performance.”

“Ah,” he’d murmured, beginning to understand. “I suppose so.”

Tony had stroked the side of her, looking wistful. “I’d love to go for a ride. Love to show you my cars on Earth. I think you’d like them.”

“I am sure I would.”

Looking at the mortal, Loki had felt a sharp and overwhelming yearning to close the distance, to draw the man close and… do things he shouldn’t.

Luckily, a longboat soaring overhead and coming into land had kept Tony distracted allowing him to take a shaky step back. His heart had been pounding over the near-mistake.

And even though he’d tried to keep his distance after that, Tony had never been one to stay apart. He liked to stay close, to touch. Loki had remained on edge, watching as Tony explored the longboats, doing his best to keep space between them without Tony noticing.

When they’d finished, it had been nearing noon so they’d stopped by another tavern for a quick meal and drink. It had given Tony a chance to recover and given him some time to get himself under control by sitting at the opposite side of a table. After an hour of light conversation, he’d felt reasonably prepared and relaxed for their journey back to the palace.

It also helped that Tony was having a good day; no attacks and no spasms. Despite this, the mortal was still tired. Loki had offered to walk with him to his quarters and Tony had happily agreed. They had been silent at first, merely enjoying each other’s company, but eventually Tony had broken it.

“I’m glad I convinced you to start leaving the palace with me,” Tony remarked as they turned deeper into the palace. “This place gets boring after a while.”

“I’m sorry my lessons have been so dull,” he drawled. “I will endeavour to be less of a bore.”

Tony shot him an exasperated look. “Asshole. You know I didn’t mean that.”

“Didn’t I?”

“Oh please, as if I haven’t gushed about your seidr enough.”

Loki couldn’t fully quell his smile.

“I am not sure you have. A mage might feel as if he cannot compete with longboats and market stalls.”

Tony rolled his eyes and lightly shoved him in the side. Loki allowed the touch to move him. He also let his smile grow wider. Tony was grinning too.

“I think you’re full of shit. But I’m not about to leave my mage unhappy. ‘How do I admire thee? Let me count the ways.’”

The comment, while said in a mocking tone, made Loki jolt and his eyes widen. He knew that the man had to be quoting something, but no matter how jokingly it had been said Tony had still called him his mage and Loki had so deeply liked it.

“He is full of wit, fare of skin and with tongue as sharp as blade,” Tony continued, a smirk tugging at his lips.

“Tony-” Loki tried, feeling heat creep up his cheeks.

“A mage so fine,” he said, turning with hands palm-out in a gesture full of dramatics, “the world knows no grander.”

“You shouldn’t-”

“The better to spend my time with,” he continued, his tone becoming abruptly serious. “A great guy, no matter what the idiots of this place say.”

“Tony-”

“I admire him a lot, especially for seeming to give a damn about an annoying mortal and giving him some of the best damn days he’s had in recent years.”

Loki swallowed hard, feeling overwhelmed and full of intense affection. A heady and dangerous combination with the mortal so close.

“Sorry,” Tony shrugged, grinning a little bashfully. “Not my best, but I never did have a flare for poetry or-”

It was too much. Loki didn’t realise he had moved, not until he was cutting the mortal off by cupping his cheeks and kissing him.

Tony sucked in a sharp breath and Loki tilted his head, intending to deepen it - but Tony firmly touched his chest. He also tried to step back.

Loki’s heart dropped, crashing painfully against the ground. He let him go as if burned and stepped back hastily.

“A-Apologies,” he hurried to say.

“No, it’s…” Tony stopped but wouldn’t look at him. He bit his lip, but soon continued, “It just can't be about that.”

It hurt, making him flinch at the sting, but there was still something in the wording that couldn’t quell all his battered hopes.

“That was not a denial of me,” he said quietly. Tony seemed to shift uncomfortably and Loki pressed, using the same tactic the mortal had used on him. “If it is me, if you are not attracted to me, very well, I will accept it. But please do not lie or blame something that is not-”

“I can’t give you a denial, Loki, but I can’t give you a yes either. I’m fucking dying.” Loki flinched and Tony finally met his gaze. “Relationships haven’t exactly been my top priority.”

The truth had once again been smacked against him. Reminding him that everything about this relationship was completely foolish and destined for agony… and yet…

If he was willing, I would still take the chance. I would spend every moment I could with him and I would work fervently, spend every night in the library until dawn, anything so that Eir and I could save him.

But Tony had not said he was willing, and he looked uncomfortable; his shoulders tense and his gaze averted once more.

The last thing he had ever wanted was to make Tony unhappy.

“I understand,” Loki said quietly. “And I apologise again.” He hesitated but he could not give up entirely. “If you still wish to see me, even if just for discussions on seidr, I would be pleased to spend that time with you.”

Tony lifted his head, his gaze unreadable. Loki held his breath, feeling as if he was on a precipice between agony and solace.

Please let me stay.

“Okay,” Tony said quietly.

The breath left him heavily, loud with the depths of his relief. But even though he had not been sent away, Loki still knew the damage had been done. There was no smile as they parted; Tony awkwardly said goodbye and hurriedly left for his quarters. Loki could only stare after him, feeling regretful and foolish.

For how could he fix this mistake? How could he possibly make up for what he had done?

Because Tony, a man who was already dealing with so much, now had something new to contend with. He had the unwanted affections of the one person on this golden realm whose company he had been able to enjoy. In a single moment, Loki had destroyed the mortal’s sense of comfort, and he hated himself a little bit more for that.

Chapter Text

Loki hardly functioned for the rest of the day. He kept replaying the kiss and the painful conversation afterwards; agonising over every detail and word and only managing to despise himself further.

At one point, he had even wondered if it was a ploy of Odin’s; offering him everything he could want in a companion and then snatching it away. But even he knew such a thought was ludicrous. Odin had made his punishment clear; the manacles and his entrapment on the realm. He would not add the manipulation of a mortal to it.

No, he had done this to himself, and now he needed to suffer through it.

But suffering had never been something he had done well. He screamed, he raged, he attacked and if all else failed… he broke. Jotunheim and the truth of his heritage had done the latter. His disinterest after his near fall had flowed on from that, leaving him without purpose or motivation for anything.

Tony had changed that. Tony had helped him.

And what had he given him in repayment? An unwanted advance and an awkward, ruined relationship. Yes, what a delightful friend he’d made.

And it was that internal snipe which had finally galvanised him to be useful. He’d gone to the library, refusing to wallow in his own misery any longer. He had raided the shelves with renewed vigour, focusing on any possible information that could help Tony’s condition.

He worked without stopping; staying all through the afternoon and night and only stirring when a few healers entered the library at dawn. They startled at his presence and, not wanting word to get back to Eir or Frigga, he had dragged himself from the table and returned to his rooms.

But, unfortunately, without the tomes in front of him, his mind had unerringly returned to Tony. It had only been one night since his mistake. Would the mortal even want to see him? Or would he require more time in order to face him?

Loki hoped for the former, but he was realistic enough to expect the latter.

While he wanted to go to the man’s chambers and see him, Loki knew it would be one more unwelcome gesture. So, he went to their magic room. They hadn’t arranged for a time to meet and it left Loki to wander aimlessly through the space, his fingers tracing the back of Tony’s chair.

He knew Tony might not arrive until noon, if at all, but he had agreed to continue learning magic and the last thing Loki wanted to do was miss his arrival.

But after a half hour had passed, he’d sighed and taken a seat on one of the chairs. Opening one of the many books, he’d flipping lifelessly through the pages. He knew that for every minute that Tony didn’t arrive, the likelihood of him coming at all dropped even further.

Perhaps after a night with his thoughts, he has decided a longboat engineer is a safer companion?

He closed his eyes, feeling the sting of his own thoughts. A thousand recriminations also surged forward, bringing with them a multitude of horrific outcomes that could yet befall him. The Warriors Three, after all, would not take kindly to hearing what he had done to Tony.

They would whisper further disgraces to his name, perhaps even claiming he had forced his advances on the ailing, defenceless mortal.

At least Tony would not stand for that. He almost smiled. He would don the gauntlet he spoke of and hit anyone who declared him ‘helpless’.

He also doubted Tony would ever make their situation public. He found that he… trusted Tony. Trusted him to keep his word about still learning seidr, and trusted the man to shield him from further disgrace. He did not deserve it, but Tony was a good person. Incredibly kind and filled with too much compassion and heart. He would never harm him deliberately nor let others do it.

And that is one more reason why it is so easy to fall in-

But Loki squashed the thought violently. His actions yesterday had made it clear that continuing down that road would only bring further heartache.

Refocusing on the book, Loki refreshed himself on the spells he’d planned to show Tony; delightful feats of seidr that would make the mortal laugh and ask question after question… if he arrived.

Loki glanced at the door, but there was still no sign of him.

Sighing, he stood with resignation and went to his supplies. He took out some parchment and a quill and brought them back to the table. He started making a list of things the mortal could study even without a guide at his shoulder. While he doubted that Tony would avoid him forever at least this way his insatiable curiosity would not be hindered by Loki’s mistakes.

He was a few minutes into working when the sound he’d been hoping for finally arrived: footsteps. He stilled, trying not to get his hopes up. But it was not the hurried soft feet of servants, nor the loud and firm stomps of the Einherjar.

Turning slowly, he looked at the doorway. Tony stood there, noticeably stiff and awkward, but present. Loki rose gradually, not wanting to discomfort him, but he was unable to take his gaze from the mortal.

“Tony,” he murmured. “Good morning.”

“Hey,” Tony said. He looked away, staring at the floor. “Wasn’t sure if, um, you’d be here. If we’d be doing anything today.”

“If you wish it,” Loki replied, “I would be glad to.”

“Okay,” he replied, still sounding a little stilted. He cleared his throat. “Sure. Yeah. That would be good.”

Loki pressed his lips together, hating what he had reduced them too. He’d ruined a perfectly wonderful companionship because he’d been foolish enough to let his emotions take control.

I will fix this, he vowed. I will be what I should have been from the start; his teacher. I will be distant. I will be polite. And if I am unfathomably lucky, I may once again become his friend.

“Shall I begin with clones?” he questioned, keeping his tone carefully neutral. “We can discuss the way I have adapted yours. Or, if you’d like something else, I have been considering showing you some fire spells.”

Tony finally met his gaze, and Loki tried not to react. He wanted to offer assurances about his behaviour or even suggest a postponement of their discussion for a few days – but what good would any of it do? If Tony was here, he had made his choice, reminding him of the bilgesnipe in the room would only create greater unease.

It took some time, but eventually, Tony stepped further into the room. Loki stayed where he was, his heart quickening when Tony took his previously occupied seat. He was so close. Nearer than Loki had imagined they would be for some weeks.

“Fire spells would be cool.”

Loki let out a subtle, relieved breath, but Tony didn’t seem to notice. His gaze was on Loki’s parchment notes. Loki wanted to yank them away, to hide what he’d been planning to offer but… even now, Tony deserved the choice.

“Something for you,” He explained quietly, making Tony glance up. “In case you wished to work on seidr… privately.”

“Oh,” Tony murmured. He looked back at the notes, his finger tracing one of the tome’s titles. “Thanks, but I think I still need a teacher.” His smile remained a little flat. “Hardly a master after only a few weeks, right?”

Loki wanted to accept it and say nothing more, to rejoice in having Tony back – but his conscience wouldn’t allow it.

“While that might be true, you need not have me. Frigga could always help you.”

He looked around the space, his mind overlaying it with the two of them; Frigga’s motherly ways and kind instructions as Tony tried to sit still. It was a bittersweet image, especially when compared to the rapid-fire conversations and sharp enjoyment they’d shared.

The contrast to now was staggering.

He turned back and admitted, “I just wanted to give you another option.”

Tony lifted his head, his gaze seeming to pin Loki in place. He wanted to step backwards, to deflect and get out from beneath it – but he didn’t. He stayed and hoped that Tony would find something positive and trustworthy in his countenance.

Eventually, Tony turned back to the table. He picked up the parchment only to hold it out between them.

“Again, thanks, but I don’t think I’m going to need it.”

Loki hesitated, but he took it, making sure not to touch Tony in any way.  Despite the lack of contact, his heart was racing and hope was clawing traitorously in his chest.

“If you are sure?” he murmured, needing to check one more time.

Tony shrugged and looked away. “Yeah. Of course. Whatever. Now, you said fire spells, right?”

Loki nodded. But for all that he tried to tell himself that this was the best he could hope to achieve; that awkward time together spent discussing seidr was his limit. Loki couldn’t accept it. For if they were truly in the role of master and student, if that was all Tony wanted, why hadn’t he taken Loki’s offer to seek Frigga?

Why had he decided to stay?

And while Loki knew it would only hurt in the long run, his spark of hope was growing larger. Because if Tony was still here, despite his misguided kiss, perhaps there was still a chance for friendship… or more?

Unfortunately, his hopes did not change reality.

They were tense around one another. He was wary of making another wrong move or entering the mortal’s space and having his actions misconstrued. Tony equally seemed to second-guess not only his actions but his words.

His excitement would rise and he’d smile unthinkingly, he’d step forward and then he’d falter. Loki would pretend not to notice and busy himself with something else, making sure to step back and place any book he had on the table rather than in the mortal’s hand.

It was… tiring. No doubt exacerbated by his lack of sleep and minimal food since yesterday, an act that became obvious when a spell requiring intense concentration trembled mid-air. He’d quickly corrected and ended it, but not so fast that Tony hadn’t seen.

“Loki?” he asked, immediately concerned.

“Nothing. It is nothing. We shall change to a smaller spell and-”

“That’s not nothing. You’ve never done that before, that was… that was a control issue wasn’t it? Or something that would happen if your seidr stores are low. Right?”

I have taught him too well.

“My seidr stores are perfectly adequate.”

“Then it was control,” Tony pinpointed, beginning to scowl. “It was-”

“A lapse which I will correct. This lesson can continue. In fact, I will show you an alternative for when more complex seidr is not possible. If you merely-”

“Oh, fuck this.”

Loki startled at the sudden, vehement phrase. He’d been avoiding looking at Tony, but he jerked his head up, worried that the man had finally decided to leave. But Tony was stalking towards him. Loki only had a moment to blink owlishly before Tony was grabbing his tunic and yanking him down.

He had no time to protest or react as his face was brought inches from Tony’s. A split-second later, Tony closed the last of the distance and kissed him. Loki released a small shocked noise, his hands flying up, wanting to touch but afraid to do so. Tony tried to kiss him harder, but Loki flinched away, breaking their mouths apart.

“Tony-”

“No, fuck this. I’m sick of it. Shut up and kiss me.”

Loki blinked again, but Tony was closing the space once more and Loki… he lost the ability to resist. He melted into the next kiss, cupping Tony’s cheeks and gentling the initially violent embrace to something soft and slow.

It was… glorious.

Everything he had wanted and something he had thought was impossible. Loki did not want the kiss to end, trailing after Tony, running his fingers through the mortal’s hair, groaning when Tony nipped his bottom lip.

Yet, rather than break apart naturally and slowly, the moment was shattered when Tony yanked his mouth away. He gasped; the sound rough and pained. It immediately snapped Loki’s attention back to the mortal. His touch turned supportive as Tony pressed a hand to his chest, his breath rattling.

“Tony?” He asked, fearful of the man having an attack.

Tony has his eyes shut, but he shook his head. His free hand clenched in Loki’s shirt, keeping him close. But Loki had no intention of going anywhere. He watched him keenly, awaiting the slightest wrong move and being prepared to teleport. But eventually, Tony calmed. His breathing returned to normal and he finally opened his eyes.

“Sorry,” Tony said roughly. “Fuck,” he let out a shaky breath. “This is why… why we shouldn’t do this.”

“Tony-”

“I’m counting my days. Can barely fucking kiss. Let alone…” he shut his eyes tight, “anything else.”

“Do you truly think I care?” Loki interrupted sharply. Tony didn’t look at him and Loki forcibly softened his voice. “Tony, kissing you… being intimate with you, yes, I would enjoy those things. But I enjoy you. Being with you, knowing that my affection is not one-sided. I would be happy merely to spend a day with you with nothing more between us then resting pressed together.”

Tony barked a harsh sound and for a moment, Loki thought it a cough, but soon realised it was a laugh. Tony lifted his head, his tired but soft brown gaze finding Loki’s.

“You know, I came here so people wouldn’t give a fuck about me dying. How did I manage to end up discussing a relationship when on Earth no one would ever want one?”

“The mortals are fools,” Loki said, instantly and vehemently.

He also tugged Tony closer, both a reaction to the comment about his health, but also at the idea of anyone else having Tony. In response, Tony quirked an amused smile – but all too soon it faded.

“Doesn’t change the truth though, Lokes.”

“It doesn’t change that I do not care,” Loki countered. “I know your condition and while I still maintain a hope that it will be cured, I also remain here.” He lifted a hand, lightly brushing the man’s cheek, his thumb ending up near the corner of the man’s mouth. “I ask for a chance to be with you. Clearly, you at least partly want me.”

Tony sighed. His free hand also came to Loki’s, encircling his wrist.

“Your kiss surprised me yesterday,” Tony admitted. “I kind of freaked out after, because I realised that I wanted you back.” Loki smiled, unable to help it and Tony chuckled and thumbed his wrist gently. “I was hoping to ignore it. Didn’t think it would be a good idea for either of us.” He chuckled. “But letting us act like two useless morons wasn’t doing us any favours either.”

“I am glad you decided to do something,” Loki confessed.

“Well, I couldn’t just let you be so distracted your magic started fucking up, could I?”

Loki startled; he then felt his cheeks heat a little bashfully. “Ah, well. I suppose. But I was not… distracted, per say.”

“No?” Tony asked, frowning.

Loki sighed. “I did not sleep last night, and I did not eat breakfast. I’m tired, that is all.”

Tony stared at him, looking blank before eventually letting out a heavy breath and shaking his head.

“You idiot.” But he was starting to smile. “Well, come on. We’re overdue some lunch in the gardens. You can order us something and we’ll sit down and decide how much of a disaster this is going to be and whether you want to tap out now rather than in a few weeks’ time.”

“I would not-”

“It’s not going to be pretty,” Tony interrupted, his voice firm. “If we do this… if we date-”

“Then I will be enjoying every moment with you all the more,” Loki interrupted. He also cupped Tony’s chin, gently turning his head to better see his handsome features. “I know what I am proposing, but I have not changed my mind. If you wish to court me, I would be honoured, Tony.”

Tony watched him for the longest time, seeming to be weighing up his every word, but after a long moment he smiled. He also leant forward and very gently pecked his lips.

“Okay,” he said upon pulling back, “but don’t say I didn’t warn you, babe.”

“Consider me suitably warned,” Loki replied, ducking in for another quick kiss, followed by one to his cheek. “But, you’ll find, I’m too elated to be overly bothered.”

Tony snorted. “Yeah, yeah charmer. Come on. Let’s go to the gardens.”

He gently pushed away from him, but not far enough that Loki had to lose his hold entirely. Instead, his arm came around Tony’s waist; both supportive and affectionate.

As they started walking out of the room together, Tony began to discuss the magic that Loki had been showing him. It was as it had been only two days ago; perfectly at ease, full of enthusiasm and delight, only now, Loki had the mortal in his arms.

While Loki knew that the high of this would not last forever, he saw no reason to burst it with unwelcome thoughts. Tony had agreed to court him, Tony liked him back. Everything else he would deal with in time; for now, he had uninterrupted hours with his mortal to enjoy.

Chapter Text

Bliss, that was what Loki had experienced after commencing his relationship with Tony.

The first few days had been tentative. Tony had doubted the sanity and intelligence of their courtship, offering him numerous ‘outs’ and eventually outright declaring what the future would mean for him if they continued. The bleak depictions had hurt to hear, but Loki had always been stubborn. He’d crossed his arms and informed Tony that he was not going anywhere. He’d declared that if Tony wanted them to end, he would have to do it himself and make a convincing argument for it.

The face-off had taken place in the garden. Tony had stopped their lunch to launch his latest complaint. Their half-eaten food and spells books remained on the bench beside Loki. Tony had initially stood to pace but after his words had stopped to scowl. Loki had matched the expression, but internally, he’d been worried Tony would try to convince him – or worse yet, would convince himself. Loki knew that if Tony went back on his decision, there would be little he could do to stop it.

But, after a quiet minute of glaring, Tony had eventually slumped. He’d taken a seat on the garden bench again, this time not on the opposite side of the food and books. Instead, he’d settled right beside Loki, forcing him to shift slightly down the seat to fit him. Rather than keep space between them, Tony had leant against him, all but resting against his chest. Loki’s heart had raced and he’d wrapped a tentative arm around him.

“Tony?” he’d asked.

“You win,” Tony had answered, resting his head on Loki’s shoulder. “I’m tired of fighting.”

“If you do not want-”

“I do, Lokes. I do. I’ve just been trying to warn you.” He’d chuckled lowly. “Self-sabotage. I’m known for it. Good thing you’re just as stubborn as me.”

“I am,” Loki had insisted. “And I swear to you, Tony. I have already made my choice. The Norns themselves could not make me go back on it.”

Tony had been quite for a long moment before he’d quietly asked, “Even when it means… well, when it ends?”

He hadn’t said the words, but Loki had still heard them.

In response, he’d held the man tighter. He’d also stared out at the blooming flowers rather than the mortal in his arms.

“If that is what will happen, then I will still be here. But, I promise you, Tony. Neither, Eir nor I will rest until we have trialled every possible option.”

“Doesn’t mean you’ll get anywhere.”

Loki had tensed, ready to begin a fresh argument - but Tony’s hand had found his and squeezed. He’d looked down, meeting Tony’s soft, sad gaze.

“But, hey, maybe you will. Either way, we’ll still be together for now, right?”

“Yes,” Loki had vehemently agreed.

He’d brought his free hand to Tony’s cheek, cupping it gently. Tony had smiled a little wider before tilting his head in open invitation. Loki had taken it, kissing him gently. The act had felt like a promise; sealing his decision to remain and Tony’s acceptance of his choice.

After that, Tony had offered no further protests about their relationship, nor had they discussed his condition, but it had still weighed heavily on Loki. Because, for all that their days had been wonderful, Tony had remained ill.

In fact, he’d continued to get worse, even when he’d tried to hide it.

The spasms had started to come more frequently, something that had become even more noticeable now that he’d been spending so much extended time with him.

Tony had tried to wave his concerns away, to smile in the face of it, but Loki knew it had to weigh just as heavily on him, if not more. In response, Loki had tried to distract him while they were together.

He’d shown him more magic, taken him to new places on Asgard. He’d also visited the man’s chambers when he was tired. He’d sat upon a shared chair, overlooking Asgard and telling him stories as Tony had rested against his chest before dropping into a light doze. Loki had stroked the man’s hair and clasped his hand, feeling content to remain there for hours.

But whenever they had parted for the day, Loki had devoted every moment to researching his condition. He’d worked with renewed vigour, speaking with Eir and even having Frigga pen letters to associates he had once had on Alfheim. Anything, to try and devise a solution.

It had been one such evening of research when Frigga had sought him.

He’d been in the library, his hands buried in his hair as he’d re-read a tome on healing. He and Eir had both scoured it, but he’d been hoping for some new inspiration; some tendril of thought that would inspire him to something new. It had been two hours, and he had yet to gain any success.

He’d known his best course was to seek out a new text but tiredness had been creeping up on him for days. Numerous late nights in the library, and long hours with Tony had begun to take their toll; even his physiology could not handle such a routine for extended periods

But he just couldn’t give up. It did not matter if it were only a temporary rest that would be for the better, he found it hard to accept. Every moment without a solution prolonged Tony’s spasms and the mere thought of what else it would lead to stole his breath and left him paralysed. He couldn’t let it come to pass. And so, he’d worked harder, he’d held Tony tighter. And in moments like these, he’d closed his eyes and tried to get himself back under control.

But, like his researched, he’d had little luck.

In fact, he’d long admitted that he needed to rest or he’d be useless both in his research and as a decent companion to Tony during the day. Unfortunately, he had not yet managed to move by the time that Frigga had come across him.

“Loki?” she’d asked gently.

He’d jerked and dropped his hands, glancing to the side where she’d stood with a concerned frown. A letter had been clasped in her hand and he’d immediately latched onto it.

“Someone from Alfheim?”

“Yes,” she’d agreed, holding it out.

He’d quickly read it, breathing a relieved sigh.

“Good,” he’d murmured. “They are sending some books that might assist.”

“Yes. They also asked why I asked for assistance and not yourself.”

Loki had frowned and more fully read the letter rather than skimming it, he’d soon snorted at the passage she’d meant. The questions, while not blatant, had been carefully worded both to avoid offense to the Queen and remain tactful.

“Merely inquisitions as to why I am not yet in the dungeons.”

He’d held the letter back out, almost flinching when her hand briefly brushed his own as she took it back.

“I think that unjust. They were your friends. Perhaps they-”

“Perhaps nothing,” Loki had answered brusquely. “Tolerable associates, that is how we saw each other. I was useful, now I am not.”

“Loki-”

He’d turned and glared at her. “Do you think me incapable of deducing exactly how little I meant to them? Do you think I do not know the difference between usefulness and genuine regard?”

Frigga had pursed her lips

“I think you know the difference now more than ever. I think a remarkable mortal has defined it quite plainly.”

Loki had stiffened, abruptly remembering why he had always sought her conversation in the past. She, unlike many others, knew him very well.

But before he could snap back at her, she’d grasped a nearby chair and pulled it out. He’d watched warily as she’d taken a seat, it was the same determination he had seen many times throughout his life; whatever she’d planned to say, she would not be swayed from it.

“I am not foolish Loki and the tongues of servants have never been reticent when relating to you.” Loki had gritted his teeth, but Frigga had continued, “I know you would say I have lost my right to pry, and that may be so, but I worry for you. Nothing will ever change how much I care about your happiness.”

Loki had been forced to look away. His personal life had always been wildly gossiped over by servants and courtiers alike; constantly trying to drive wedges in his relationships or making up ludicrous fallacies to make him look foolish in front of the greater populace. Whatever they had said about him, he was certain it had at least been tempered if only due to everyone’s respect for the ‘lauded shield-brother of Thor’.

“And although I am wise enough not to trust every word they say,” Frigga continued, “I do know you, Loki. You have begun courting Tony, haven’t you?”

A dozen hateful words rose to rest on his tongue: It is not your concern. You are not my mother. You lost the right to enquire about my life after you betrayed me. If I love him, it is entirely my decision, entirely my pain to bare if I cannot save him…

And yet… sitting alone in the library, with no one else to talk to or confide in about his worry, Loki had found none of those things escaping

“And if I am?” he’d whispered.

“Then you must truly love him, for you would only court someone if they held the entirety of your heart, or were well on the way to acquiring it.”

Loki had closed his eyes, unable to fight a statement so painfully accurate. When Frigga’s hand had gently come to rest on his, he’d twitched and lifted his head to look at her. Her gaze had been full of sympathy, hope and love – but there had also been a lingering fear; worry for another rejection of her touch and affection.

And he’d wanted to reject her, but instead, the walls around him had cracked that little bit further open.

“You hurt me,” he’d choked out. “You lied to me all my life.”

“And no words can ever repair that,” she’d replied, her voice thick with pain. “I will never forgive myself and I will never expect you to forgive me. But you are my son and you are hurting. I would do anything to ease that ache, even if it is just sitting beside you through the night.”

“I am not your son,” he’d countered, voice raw and choked.

“In all the ways that count you are mine,” she’d refuted firmly. “I could not love you more if I had been the one to birth you. No matter where you came from, no matter what you do, you will always be my son.”

Loki had swallowed hard. Deep inside, a part of him had trembled. No one in the Odinson family had ever been prone to outbursts of emotion beyond anger. To hear her say such things, it had ached, somehow both painful and soothing. He’d known that she’d still cared for him and hadn’t spurned him his ancestry, but hearing it so blatantly had helped him feel that little less… lost.

He’d still had to look away from her, incapable of holding her gaze without collapsing into her arms; seeking and gaining much needed comfort - but for all that her words had helped, he had not been ready to loosen all his anger and pain to welcome her so close.

But he had shifted his hand, just a little, just enough that she could grasp it a little tighter. He’d also tactfully ignored her words of motherhood to admit something else.

“Tony is unlike anyone I have ever met,” he confessed in a whisper. “Compatible in a way I’d long believed impossible.”

“You have a natural affinity.”

“Yes.”

“And you have… more?”

Loki had stared at the table, but quietly admitted, “He returns my affections… enough.”

“Enough?”

“Romance is not the dominate thing on his mind.”

“But you believe, had he enough time…?”

Loki had chuckled bleakly. “Time. The one thing he doesn’t have and the one thing we need. The one thing I can’t-”

He’d broken off, his voice choked with pain. Frigga had released a soothing sound and her hand had gone to his hair. They’d both stilled; the act one that they had not adopted since he was very young. But when he had not immediately pulled away, she’d gently stroked his hair. Closing his eyes, he’d leant minutely towards her.

“I am sorry you are faced with this, Loki,” she’d said gently.

He’d huffed another wry laugh.

“I suppose it is fitting,” he’d muttered. “Who else should I fall for but one I am destined to lose?”

“You and Eir have not given up, nor have I.”

“And what then?” Loki had demanded, a spark of frustration and anger releasing. “If not this wound, what of the next? What of his return to Midgard while I remain shackled here? Do you think I have not considered the bleakness of our future even if I can save him?”

“I know you would fight such circumstances to your last breath,” Frigga had countered, unbothered by his harsh words. “If you had believed happiness impossible, you would not have begun. If Tony chooses you, genuinely and truly, then nothing in these worlds or the next would keep you apart.”

Loki had fallen silent, for she was right. If Tony lived, if Tony still chose him, he would fight with everything he had to stay at the mortal’s side. But for that to occur, it still required healing his wound and having Tony decide their courtship was worth pursuing outside of Asgard and his limited future.

Something, Loki had already long admitted, he didn’t know for certain.

Frigga had stroked his hair again and he’d turned a little closer towards her, only to be hit by a fresh wave of pure exhaustion.

“You need rest, Loki.”

‘I cannot stop.”

“Allow me to search in your absence.”

Loki had blinked and opened his eyes. He’d glanced at Frigga, frowning.

“You have duties tomorrow.”

“I have duties here.”

Loki had smiled faintly, and she had smiled back before squeezing his hand. And although he could have argued further, he had not wanted to spend a night getting little done and being poor company for Tony in the morning.

Therefore, he had given a small nod. And while it had taken a few minutes to explain exactly where he was up to and what he was attempting to find, when he had finished, he had felt… grateful. In fact, he had almost felt… saddened to pull away from her touch and her company.

As he had left the library, the hallways quiet in the late evening, Loki had felt more accepting than he could remember being for some time. Things with Frigga had not become perfect, but he’d been willing to admit that for all that she had harmed him, he still cared for her. She remained… his mother.

And although he had not been able to promise anything, neither aloud nor to himself, Loki had still wondered if perhaps in future, he might be willing to embrace her again and, in time, even forgive her.

Tony got worse.

Despite Frigga taking on some of his late night research, meeting with him, providing the books from Alfheim and discussing alternatives, they were no closer to a solution. They had nothing and Tony was worse.

Loki tried to put on a brave face, to remain hopeful – but every day that he wrapped his arms around Tony, holding him in a supportive hold as he bent over at the waist, struggling to breathe and looking grey with pain… Loki’s hopes wavered and his fears rose.

After nearly two months of courtship, kisses, long days together… time was running out. Tony now spent his evenings in the healing rooms, a healer nearby at all times. Some days, despite Tony’s frustration, they remained indoors, he on his bed and Loki beside him, discussing magic or trading stories; him of the mischief in his youth, Tony of his friends and experiences on Midgard.

But, he could not converse for long before growing tired, or with Eir forcing him to sleep in the hopes of managing some type of repair. He hadn’t seen it, always rushed out of the room by Eir or sent away by Tony before she examined him.

But today, after a painful spasm, he had not been sent on his way.

Tony had gripped his hand during it, holding so tightly that it had almost hurt. Eir had forced Tony into rest, but even after being told, Tony had not released his hand. Once he was unconscious, Eir had glanced at him. She’d taken one look at their linked palms before stating, “It will not be pleasant.”

“I am not a fool,” He’d snapped. “I have seen many injuries. I have even seen his.”

“But, not recently.”

Loki had held her gaze unflinchingly while better taking a grip on his courted’s hand. Eir’s expression had seemed to soften. She’d given a tiny nod before returning her attention to Tony. His usual shirts had been exchanged for a simple cream tunic designed unusually in that it buttoned at the front. Eir clinically undid them and Loki sucked in a sharp breath.

The corruption of Tony’s wound was spreading, the dark grey from within the metal looked as if it was leaking out under his skin. It was spreading over his chest, making the skin look dead, almost rotted. Loki glanced away, taking a moment to compose himself before forcing his gaze back.

He tried to be clinical and look with the gaze of a mage, but one glance at Tony’s face and he couldn’t do it. His eyes pricked and he pulled Tony’s hand closer, holding it against his chest. Even in forced sleep, Tony frowned, as if the pain lingered even in sleep.

When Eir buttoned his shirt again, Loki jerked his attention back to her.

“What?” He demanded, shocked. “You spent barely a moment. You-”

“Did all that I could,” Eir said simply.

She stepped back from the bed but, instead of walking away, she came around beside him, pulling a nearby chair that had, thus far, been unused. She sat down beside him. Loki stiffened at the unusual display.

“Prince Loki,” she said quietly, “there is nothing more I can do for him.”

“But surely there is-”

She touched his arm and his mouth snapped shut, he swallowed against a harsh lump.

“All I am doing is making him as comfortable as I can, but you must understand, at this rate, it is a matter of days.”

Loki closed his eyes, a harsh sound catching in his throat, he held Tony’s hand tighter. His fingers felt the soft, slow pulse of life.

“Neither your magic or mine can heal him,” she continued quietly. “You must accept it, as he has.”

But resignation did not come to him, no, instead, he felt rage. Because it was unfair, it was cruel and Loki had not spent months knowing and falling for a man only to have him snatched away and into the arms of Valhalla simply because he was mortal.

“No,” Loki gritted out. He opened his eyes, looking first at Tony and then at Eir. “I will not.”

Loki let Tony’s hand go, gently laying it on the bed. He rose enough to lean forward and kiss the man’s forehead, he then turned from the bed. Eir was already on her feet.

“Prince Loki, you cannot-”

“I cannot, yes,” Loki agreed. “But there is one on this realm who can.” Eir’s eyes widened, but Loki brushed passed her. “Keep him alive,” Loki ordered, “and inform me if there is any change to him. I will be with the Allfather.”

Loki left with his stride determined and his fury barely leashed, because he would not lose the one that he’d chosen over petty bureaucracy and tradition. This mortal was his and Odin would not be the cause of his heartbreak again.

Chapter Text

Loki went to the Great Hall. His magic, had it not been restricted, would have been whipping around him, bleeding into his hands and from his eyes, but the manacles kept him restrained, he still felt the seidr boiling under his skin, straining to be released.

When he reached the doors, they were guarded, but open. Odin was not present, but a few courtiers and servants lingered. Everyone looked at him as he stormed inside, he felt a stirring of relief to see Frigga beside the throne, talking to a handmaiden.

“Loki,” she called, clearly startled. “What is-”

“I demand to speak to Odin.”

“He is currently-”

“I do not care if he crowning a new heir or declaring war. I will see him now.”

His order immediately inspired whispers but he was beyond caring.

“Loki-”

“Tony is with Eir,” Loki snapped, seeing her expression shift to pained understanding. It made grief rise up, and his next words were harsher, choked by sorrow, “He is… I don’t… there is no time.” He gritted his teeth, coming to a decision. “I will not wait.”

Clenching his fists, Loki did what he had never dared or cared to try before. He pooled his seidr under his skin and launched it at his manacles. Frigga let out a sound of shock and came closer in clear alarm. Loki ignored her. He stared at his hands, seeing the skin ripple, small cuts appearing first green with seidr, and then beginning to bleed. Sweat beaded at his brow and the manacles started to tighten and burn, but he ignored it.

He would make Odin show his face.

And eventually, he did.

“Loki!” Odin bellowed his name.

Loki smiled with grim satisfaction and looked up. Odin had come from an antechamber off the hall and at his side, frowning with concern, strode Thor.

“What is this?” Odin demanded, frowning heavily. “You will collapse if you continue this foolish act.”

“Not yet,” Loki panted, his hands shaking even as he lowered them back to his side. “First, I will be heard.”

“You needn’t give such displays of dramatics-”

Loki stepped forward, fresh anger burning through him.

“These are not dramatics,” he snarled. “I demand you do what you should have done three months ago.”

Odin’s frown deepened but it was Frigga who breathed the man’s name, “Tony.”

“He is with Eir,” Loki gritted out. “He is dying and you will use the Odinforce on him. You will heal him now before he dies.”

Odin remained unmoved; his face expressionless.

“The mortal’s wound resists magic. Even the Odinforce-”

“His wound is Midgardian metal,” Loki spat. “Some useless lesser mage’s spell might have corrupted it but you are the Allfather.” He stalked closer. “Do not stand in this room and lie to me, me, the only mage on this realm deemed master by the Elves. You are capable of it, and whatever your reasons to refuse, you will change them, now.”

“Father,” Thor said, sounding confused, “is this true? Does Loki speak in truth?”

Loki turned on him, unaccountably furious. “Do not accuse me of lying. Do not accuse me when I have hardly lied the most in this pitiful excuse for a family.”

He saw Frigga flinch from the corner of his eye, but Odin continued to stare at him, unchanging and unblinking.

“And why should you care if he lives or dies?” Odin questioned. “What does a simple mortal life mean to you?” Loki froze, a feeling that did not lessen as Odin stepped closer. “What is so special about this man that sees you making such demands of me?”

Loki was stiff and felt incredibly aware of how many gazes were on him, how many were witness to his outburst and to what Odin was declaring he admit. And yet, a single flash of memory; Tony pained and dying in the healing rooms, their hands linked and Eir quietly preparing him for Tony’s death.

It was enough.

“He is good,” Loki confessed. “He is a brave warrior the likes of which you praise. The kind you would see ballads sung for were he only born on your realm.” Bitterness rose up, catching in his throat. “He is not some mercurial and unwanted little prize. He is…” Loki swallowed hard. “He is…” Loki’s gaze flickered away. He looked down at his hand. The hand once blue, but now the memory overlaid by a mortal palm held tightly against his own. “He is worthy of life.” His head snapped up and he met Odin’s shrewd eye. “And you can’t take him away simply because you’ve selfishly decided he is lesser.”

“I have never claimed he was lesser.”

“Then help him,” Loki snarled. “Save him. Because…”

“Because?”

“Because he is my courted,” Loki finally said, breaking on the words. “Because you cannot take him away. You can’t ruin me again. I cannot see him die because you are so blind and arrogant to not see he has worth beyond being a pet of your golden son!”

His words echoed in the now silent hall. He breathed heavily, shaking with the emotions still rushing through him.

“He has clearly impassioned you,” Odin murmured. “So, unlike the shadow who has wandered the halls this last year.” He tilted his chin. “But the Odinforce may not be enough. Perhaps I cannot save this mortal and he is destined to die.”

“Then feed him an apple,” Loki snapped.

The gasp in the room was audible. Odin’s eyebrows rose, even Thor and Frigga seemed pale. Loki refused to back down.

“You would demand our most sacred gift for him?”

“If you will not do it,” Loki grit out, “I will give it to him myself.”

“An act of high treason,” Odin remarked, “not something I would have expected from you again, Loki.”

Loki’s jaw twitched at the reminder. After all, he’d been shackled for more reasons that just his attack on Jotunheim, although none of them had been explicitly stated. Clearly, Odin had known, or uncovered most of them.

And yet, he frankly did not care what it meant for him. It was one more delay, one more mark against his name, when all he wanted was to help Tony. And he’d honestly planned to try again, to make further demands or even outright plea if that was what it took when harsh footfalls were heard followed by, “Prince Loki.”

He looked over his shoulder, his heart dropping at seeing a healer.

“Eir calls for you, as does the mortal,” the woman sucked in a breath. “He is… is he failing and-”

Loki did not think, he forced his seidr to teleport him, and instead of the resistance he’d normally gain, he heard a sound, a sharp crack before his seidr surged outward, giving him full ability to get to the healing rooms. He appeared without any flare, merely arriving in the room that he’d left not even an hour earlier.

Tony was in bed, looking paler than usual, but he still smiled.

“Always so cool,” he said, his voice weaker than usual.

Loki sat on the chair, taking his hand and pulling it close.

“You called for me,” Loki said softly.

“Yeah,” Tony said, squeezing his hand gently. “Being a bit selfish, know you’re busy, but wanted you here.”

“With you is the only place I would choose to be.”

Tony smiled again. He also tugged gently and Loki leant across the bed, giving him a gentle kiss. It only lasted a few seconds, as he remained mindful of Tony’s condition. Tony's thumb stroked his palm.

“I know I fought you about this a few months ago.”

“Tony-”

“I just wanted to say, that was… really dumb of me. You’re the best thing I could have had happen to me, you know?”

“Tony,” he said, his voice choked.

“Just wanted to tell you. Pretty,” he sighed, his eyes closing, “pretty bad at emotions. But, last chance, right?”

“You don’t need to tell me anything you do not want to,” Loki said quietly.

“Yeah,” Tony said, opening his eyes again. “Know that. But, I… I could really fall for you, Lokes. Really, really could. You and me,” he smiled sadly, “we could have been a great thing.”

Loki swallowed hard. He brought up Tony’s hand, kissing his knuckles.

“Thanks for… for putting up with me-”

“I never put up with you,” Loki argued, his hold tightening on Tony’s hand, a tear trickling down his cheek. “You have been the greatest person to ever enter my life. I… I already have fallen for you.”

Tony blinked, surprised for a moment before smiling.

“Damn,” he quipped, “you’ve got bad taste.”

Loki laughed harshly, he also lowered his head, resting his forehead against their linked hands. The tears started to come faster, rolling down his cheeks and wetting them both.

“Hey,” Tony said gently, “don’t cry, Lokes. Come on.”

“How can I not?” he forced out. “How can I… when I… when you’re…”

“Shh,” Tony said, comforting him.

Comforting him the way he always had, even when he was dying, even when he was in pain. Loki kissed the man’s knuckles again. He also pulled one hand away, wiping his eyes and finally looking back at the mortal. Tony smiled sadly, he also tugged on his hand. Loki shifted his chair closer, sitting near the top of the bed. He used his spare hand to stroke the man’s hair. Tony closed his eyes and sighed.

“Lokes?”

“Yes?”

“I want you to do me a favour,” he said, “I wrote a letter to my best friend. I,” he stopped, catching his breath, “I want you to give it to him to… meet him. I want him to tell you about me, show you things. My cars, my bots. Want you to… see my lab.”

I want to see them with you, the words caught in the back of this throat, a desperate plea and yet, something he could never say.

“He’ll wanna meet you,” Tony continued, “JARVIS too. So, you gotta go down there for me, yeah?”

Loki didn’t want to; he wanted to rebel at the mere thought of being there; on Tony’s world, in his home without him but… he would promise his courted anything right now.

“Of course,” he whispered.

Tony re-opened his eyes and tilted back his head, smiling. From this angle, Loki could see a hint of grey at the collar of his shirt, but he ignored it to focus on Tony’s handsome face. He bent down, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

It was as they were sharing it that a nearby door was thrown open. Loki planned to ignore it, he pulled back, but only so their lips detached, he continued to hover close and smile down at Tony. He stroked his hair and part of his cheek. Tony squeezed his hand, equally ignoring whoever had entered.

“You will stand aside, Loki.”

Loki jerked and turned his head, Odin stood at the foot of the bed, Gungnir in one hand. Eir and Frigga stood to one side both looking concerned. Thor was at the other but his gaze was upon them, noticeable shock sending his eyebrows towards his hairline.

“Why would I do that?” he asked warily, gripping Tony’s hand tighter.

“You made your stance quite clear in front of half the court,” Odin stated, a hint of reproach in his voice, but something almost kind in his gaze. He walked forward to stand beside the bed.

“What do you mean?” Tony asked, confused. “What did you do in the hall?”

Loki decided not to answer that, he kept his gaze on Odin. “You will use the Odinforce?”

Odin inclined his head and Loki felt a desperate spike of hope. He bent down and kissed Tony’s forehead fiercely. He untangled his hand despite Tony’s frown and attempts to hold on.

“This may cure you,” Loki hurried to stay. “You must let him try. I may be a powerful mage, but he is King of Asgard and wields the power of the realm, and with it, he even touches Yggdrasil.”

Had he not been so ill, Loki was sure Tony would have been teeming with questions, but instead, he merely nodded and let his hand go. Loki stepped back and Frigga was quickly at his side. She touched his arm, but Loki didn’t take his eyes of Odin. Eir had come to the Allfather’s side, murmuring to him as he raised Gungnir and hovered it over Tony’s body. The power of the Odinforce began to spill from the spear, unwinding like a snake or a ribbon slowly descending to hover over Tony’s chest and wound.

Tony breathed shakily and closed his eyes. Eir’s hands came forward, glowing with her own magic. Odin’s eye was closed and he frowned with concentration as the magic worked upon the wound. Loki had to restrain himself from rushing forward or lending his own seidr. Instead, he watched the path of the magic critically, trying to interpret exactly what was happening and its efficacy.

When Tony gasped and his back arched, it took Frigga and then Thor holding him back so he didn’t rush forward.

“Let them work, Loki,” Frigga quietly urged. “They are trying to help him.”

Loki knew it, he’d asked for it, but all he wanted was to be at Tony’s side. But he didn’t fight their holds, although, he did feel ready to rip away from them at the slightest moment.

Suddenly Odin released a heavy breath, he lowered Gungnir, the Odinforce disappearing as he slumped heavily into the chair Loki had vacated. This time, they all ran forward, Frigga to Odin and him to Tony. He grasped Tony’s hand, but the man was unconscious. His breathing, at least, was even. Eir went to his shirt, ripping it open without any finesse or care for the buttons. She breathed out shakily.

“The corruption has receded. In fact…”

Loki glanced down. He quickly lifted his own hand, barely registering the unencumbered flow of seidr.

“The device is not interfering,” he murmured. “We can remove it.”

Eir shook her head. “No. The wounds within his chest still exist. The metal that the device protects him from, they are still present.”

“But the Odinforce will not hold back the spell for long,” Loki insisted, frustrated. “We need this thing out.”

“Doing so would kill him. The shards near his heart-”

“Can’t be any worse than the corruption,” Loki snapped. “You are a skilled healer. Hold them in place until we can get a replacement.”

Eir clicked her tongue, briefly glaring at him. “Healing is delicate and there are many. I cannot possibly hold back everything, and he is still recovering from his other injuries-”

“Summon more healers and-”

“This is not some ritualistic spell that a handful of mages can merely chant over-”

“Then you will need to come up with something more useful than simply-”

The sharp and sudden sound of Gungnir hitting the ground stopped them in their tracks. They both immediately turned to Odin. He was sitting straighter in his chair, Frigga’s hand on his shoulder. His expression was wry.

“You rarely speak so candidly with any other, Eir. Nor you so respectfully of another’s craft, Loki.”

“I-”

“It was not-”

He waved them both off. He also glanced at Frigga and tiredly reached for her, touching her hand. She smiled and let him go before stepping forward.

“Consider this instead,” she said. “A gift from the King and Queen to the mortal who saved not one of their sons, but two.”

A golden light shimmered over her palms before an apple of Idunn appeared. Eir sucked in a breath while Loki simply stared at it.

“It would be enough to heal him,” Eir finally said, breaking the silence. Loki reached out and took the apple, holding it in his hand. “We must wake him.”

Loki nodded, dragging his gaze from the apple to Tony. He reached down, smoothing a hand over his hair before feeling Eir’s seidr flow over him, encouraging him to awaken. He stirred immediately, his eyes blinking open and quickly finding him.

“Lokes?”

“Odin was able to halt the spell. He could not heal you, but he has a gift.” Loki brought forward the apple. Tony blinked and stared at it, the widening of his eyes clearly making it obvious he understood the significance. “They believe you deserve it for saving…” he hesitated, but finally forged forward, “two princes of Asgard.”

Tony swallowed. He also tentatively reached out, grasping the fruit.

“We must act quickly,” Eir said. “When you eat it, we will remove the item in your chest and it, and my seidr will heal all that ails you.”

“And I’ll be immortal,” Tony murmured.

“Close enough,” Loki agreed quietly.

He watched Tony, his heart once again in his throat as Tony stared at the apple; for it was one thing to want to live, another to be given the opportunity for something far longer. He didn’t know what Tony would do, but, before he could feel too much fear, Tony quirked a smile.

He glanced at him and said, “Looks like I’ll be showing you my lab after all.”

Loki let out a heaving breath of relief even as Tony brought the apple to his lips and took the first bite. Loki grinned, feeling so incredibly elated – until Eir abruptly started barking orders, demanding everyone even the Allfather get away from her patient as she shouted for more healers so that they could begin the process of saving him.

Loki knew he had to leave, and he did follow her orders but not before reaching out for one more very quick squeeze of Tony’s unoccupied hand, gaining a gentle one back before he was forced out of the room with the others.

And yet, for all that Tony was out of he sight, he trusted Eir to look after him. He also knew, for the first time since meeting him, that Tony was truly going to be okay - and he had Odin and Frigga to thank for it.

The reminder dragged his gaze from the doors blocking Tony from sight. His adopted family stood to the side, watching him. Frigga’s eyes were tearful but her smile one of joy. Thor remained blatantly confused, although, surprisingly quiet. Odin was watching him with the same, intense steady gaze from the hall.

“You let him live,” Loki murmured. “You… why would you do that?”

“I underestimated his importance,” Odin answered.

“But you gave him an apple.”

“Which you requested.”

“But why?” Loki demanded. “Why would you…” he glanced away. “You had no obligation to do so.”

“I owe a great debt that I cannot repay.”

Loki frowned. “Because he saved Thor? And… me?”

“No, Loki,” Odin said quietly. “It was not him whom I owed that debt.” Loki’s eyes widened, but Odin merely inclined his head. “Give my regards to your courted. He will dine with us in a celebratory banquet once he is recovered.”

Odin turned and with Frigga holding his arm and steadying him, they walked away. Loki watched them leave, feeling completely unprepared for what had just happened and for what Odin had just done for him.

It left him alone but for Thor. The Thunderer was still staring at him. Unaccustomed to the silence from his adopted brother, and feeling so incredibly raw, Loki crossed his arms defensively.

“What?” He demanded. “Say your peace and begone.”

“I have not seen you in some time Loki.”

“And whose fault was that,” he muttered.

“The bifrost was broken for some time. You barred all from your rooms. When I returned to aid Midgard, I gained no word that you wished to speak to me.”

Loki snorted. “As if your stubborn pride would not have had you at my door had you only wanted it.”

“You tried to kill me, Loki.”

Loki’s jaw ticked and he looked away. Slowly, he heard Thor approach. He did not move, but he tensed. When Thor touched his shoulder, he jolted and turned, finally meeting the man’s gaze. Thor smiled faintly.

“But that is in the past. If you and Stark are courted, it will be with great honour that I sit and feast with you both.”

“You can’t just dismiss everything,” Loki said harshly. “I won’t just forget everything.”

“Aye,” Thor agreed. “Nor I. But I think we can speak of it another time.” He squeezed Loki’s shoulder. “Today, you have faced much. We should sit and wait for Stark.”

“I do not need you to sit with me, I am not some fragile maiden.”

Thor snorted and rather than argue, he physically dragged him over to a chair and made him sit. Thor then took the seat beside him. A part of Loki wanted to argue about it… but he was beginning to feel so very exhausted. And for all that he did not want Thor’s comfort, it felt too similar to the past. The way they would argue, he would seethe, Thor would leave him be for weeks, even a month, and then blunder back into his rooms as if nothing had happened.

It had been different this time, longer and with Loki so certain his brother had spurned him entirely; but here the man sat, his familiar warmth along his side as he kept him company.

Closing his eyes, Loki decided that for a few minutes, he could do as Thor had said; the past and all its problems could wait a day.

They waited for an hour. Thor, unable to stay quiet, had started regaling stories of his battles upon Midgard. Loki would have been uninterested, but the man mentioned Tony. He had not had much exposure to the man’s actions as Thor’s shield-brother, but hearing the recounting now, knowing Tony would be well, allowed him to smile and even chuckle.

Although he did not add any stories of his own, or offer much more than the occasional question, the hour passed companionably enough.

But, when Eir opened the door, Loki was immediately on his feet and rushing forward. She half-smiled.

“His device has been removed and he is recovering,” Eir advised. “He is tired and will need to rest, but he can see you.”

Loki nodded and although he started to push past Eir, he did pause briefly and look back at Thor. He wasn’t quite ready to consider them brothers, but he was grateful and he displayed it in a short nod. Thor smiled, but Loki didn’t linger to see anything more.

He crossed the empty room to get to Tony’s bed. Tony’s eyes were closed, but when he got close, he opened them and held out his hand. Loki grasped it immediately and took a seat on the chair.

“Tony.”

“Hey.”

“How do you feel?”

“Honestly? About five thousand times better than I can remember feeling, which is saying something, since I feel exhausted and sore.”

Loki huffed a laugh, he also leant forward, kissing Tony’s temple and resting their heads together. Tony broke their hands apart, but only to wrap an arm around his shoulders and pull him into a half hug. Loki felt a bubble of happiness knowing that, for once, such a moment didn’t hurt Tony.

“I really hope you’re going to head back to your rooms and actually get a decent night’s sleep.”

“I would rather stay here.”

“You really don’t have to, you know. Eir says a couple of days rest and I’ll be out of here for good.” Tony shifted, making Loki pull back and better meet his gaze. “Frankly, I think you should get the sleep. Nothing holding me back now. Magic lessons, longboat rides, making out with you properly and probably convincing someone to let you come back to Earth with me. You’re going to need to be well rested, babe.”

By the end, Loki couldn’t help grinning. It was so wide, he just knew his annoying dimples would be showing, but he simply felt too happy, too excited for everything Tony was laying out. Tony quirked his eyebrows, clearly amused despite the exhaustion plain on his face.

“I take it that sounds good, Lokes?”

“Better than you could imagine.”

“Then I better kick you out so we can both get some sleep.”

“As long as I will see you again come morning.”

“Sure thing. Come bring me breakfast, we’ll make Eir scowl at us and long for the day she can kick me out of here.”

Loki shook his head but he was fighting laughter. “You are ridiculous.”

“But you’re still going to do it, right?” Tony’s eyes twinkled. “Do I need to say ‘pretty please’ again?”

This time, Loki did laugh, the sound full of affection and relief. In response, Tony’s features softened. He also tugged him down and Loki came willingly, kissing Tony and feeling the utter happiness and relief of knowing that this moment, this man was no longer temporary.

The future was finally bright and exciting as it stretched out ahead of him and he couldn’t wait to experience every moment of it.