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Chapter Text

 For longer than he could remember, everything that went wrong in Asgard had been deemed Loki's fault. Loki, God of Mischief, Loki, the Trickster... He always ruined everything.

In Loki's humble opinion, his mistakes were often just that, mistakes, but for some reason, everyone seemed to think they were so much greater than the mistakes of others. Maybe they knew something he did not. Maybe he was the one in the wrong—the opinion of the whole of Asgard, against that of one man? Surely that must mean the problem was on Loki's side.

With the wall, he had not even expected things to spiral out of control so much. He'd made a suggestion, and then suddenly, the Aesir were making accusations, threatening to kill him now that it had turned out that his plan had not worked.

For Norns' sake, he had not forced the All-Father to agree to it. He was not king. And yet, for some reason, it was still Loki's fault, and Loki's responsibility.

Then again, after the lip-sewing incident, Loki could not be surprised at anything Asgard did to him.

As such, desperate and frightened, Loki had gone and done his best to fix things. Using his shape-shifter skills, he had distracted the builder's stallion.

Even after everything, he had not expected the stallion—Svadilfari—to be so fast.

In the first days after it happened, he had raged. He had cried, insofar as this form allowed him to. The shame and humiliation had been almost too much to bear.

He knew Svadilfari's owner had turned out to be a Jotun warrior in disguise, and was now dead at Thor's hand. But it was too late for Loki. He was forever marked, forever branded, and he would forever carry the dreadful memories of being caught, overpowered and violated by an animal.

No one had come to look for him. They left him alone, to fend for himself in the wild in his vulnerable state.

His terror had only grown worse. More than once, he had almost ridden off a cliff, wanting to just end it all. It was only his self-preservation instinct—so strong in this shape—that had kept him from doing so.

And then, something had changed. Loki had felt the spark of unfamiliar seidr inside him. A spark of life.

For the first time since that dreadful day, Loki felt hope.

He supposed for many people, it would have not made sense. After all, this creature inside him was the product of the worst moment in Loki's life.

But Loki was not most people, and he saw things quite differently. For most of his life, he had received very little love from those who were supposedly his people. His mother had sometimes been an exception, and on occasion Thor, when he could be bothered to remember Loki was actually a person, and not an annex to the Thunderer's greatness.

But none of them had done anything in Loki's darkest hour. In the end, none of them cared.

And yes, maybe they were bound by the All-Father's wishes, but Thor had gone against Odin's commands a great many times, for less important things. Adventures, proving himself to Sif and the Three, running rampant on Midgard to gain the mortals' worship. There had been punishments, but nothing too serious. Thor was Asgard's Golden Son, Odin's heir. They could hardly afford to lose him.

Further, Frigga had her ways—magic ways, secret ways. She could have at least come to him in illusion form, to offer some comfort. It would have meant a lot if only she had told him he was not a complete failure, that she was not ashamed of him, that it had not been his fault.

But they had done none of that, and Loki could only imagine that they did indeed blame him for everything—including his own rape.

And now, there was this thing inside him, this little being—and for the first time in his life, Loki had a person of his own. A child. And already, he loved it.

When the birth finally came, Loki was once again frightened and in pain. But by then, the child's seidr had already grown quite a lot and Loki kept his eye on his proverbial prize.

Somehow, despite having been alone for the past Norns-knew how many months, despite having been chased by wolves mere nights ago, despite having very little to eat since his rape, Loki went through it.

The colt was beautiful, just like Loki had known he would be. He had eight legs, but to Loki, there had never been a lovelier and more perfect child. Every inch of the colt was sparkling with seidr, and with love—Loki's love.

Now that he could shift, he could easily return to Asgard. He could place the colt at the All-Father's feet and ask for forgiveness, for a new start. In time, the colt would become the most magnificent steed in the Nine Realms, a stallion worthy of the All-Father himself. He would be protected in Asgard's stables, and Loki could be prince again.

But Loki was not his father. He would not have his own son be used that way. He would not have his child become a beast of burden.

So Loki did not return to Asgard. Now that he could use his magic properly again, he cast tight spells of shadow and protection around himself and the babe, spells that would keep him from the sight of the All-Father and that of Heimdall. Then, he took his precious burden and left his home land without looking back.

Chapter Text

Centuries later, Midgard

"Mother, how much further?"

From the front seat of his car, Loki rubbed his forehead and studied the busy traffic. He wished he had an answer for Sleipnir, but unfortunately he did not.

They had only recently moved to Midgard after things had started to turn restless in Alfheim. Loki had been alternating between Alfheim and Vanaheim ever since he'd left Asgard, and so far it had worked well. His seidr had only grown since becoming a mother, and he was sensitive to the vibrations of the Bifrost, so he could tell if Asgardians were near.

But he had heard rumors that Thor's corronation was finally approaching. It didn't make him bitter, far from it. In truth, he would have not particularly cared one way or another. Thor belonged to a different life, one before Sleipnir.

Unfortunately, Loki had once known Thor very well. Before Loki had left, his brother had been incredibly arrogant and volatile, with his cronies—Sif and the Warriors Three—only encouraging this by blindly following his every order.

Everything he'd heard from traveling merchants suggested that he had only grown worse with time. And the king of Asgard was the most powerful man in the Nine Realms. Thor, armed with the full strength of the Golden Realm? The idea gave Loki nightmares.

He had taken refuge here, on Midgard, the one truly hospitable land the Aesir no longer truly touched. The other options were not pallatable—the last thing he wanted was to raise his child in the wastes of Jotunheim or the demonic heat of Muspelheim. But Midgard... Midgard was the perfect place to lose themselves among the crowd.

Unfortunately, Midgard was also nothing like what Sleipnir was accustomed to. Loki was beginning to regret his choice to come to this grand city—perhaps a smaller place would have been better—but it was too late now.

He heaved a sigh and threw a look back at his son. "Hopefully, not long, my darling. We'll be home soon." He had made all the preparations beforehand, including renting an apartment in the city. And technically speaking, he could have teleported them there, but he didn't want to draw any attention yet with the use of his more complicated spells. Better to wait until they were a little more accustomed to Midgard.

Sleipnir looked out the window, scanning the bright lights of the Midgardian night. "This is such a strange realm. The mortals have no seidr. They are so frail. How do they live like this?"

"Midgardians are great in their own way, my love," Loki replied. "They evolve and build in a rhythm unmatched by any of the other realms. I believe you could grow to like it here, if you give it chance."

"I don't dislike it," Sleipnir said hastily. "It is... chaotic. Like you."

Loki laughed. "Perhaps. But I know you love Alfheim best."

Alfheim was a place that teemed with the seidr so close to Loki and Sleipnir's heart. It had not been perfect, but they had at least found freedom there. Loki had taught Sleipnir how to shift between his shapes at will and Sleipnir had absorbed every bit of Loki's lessons like a sponge. Yes, they would always be fond of Alfheim.

(Secretly, Loki had been quite horrified the day Sleipnir had accidentally shifted into a regular-looking baby. To think that he'd considered even for a moment to give the child to the All-Father. He would have been bound to life as a horse for all time. Loki had come so close to making the worst mistake in his life.)

"Mother, can I ask you a question?" Sleipnir suddenly inquired.

"You already have, my darling," Loki replied, "but of course, you can ask me whatever you wish."

"Do you ever regret it? Leaving Asgard? Having me?"

Loki frowned and looked away from the still blocked road to focus on his son."Of course not. You're the best thing that's happened to me."

"But I... My father..."

Loki sighed. As Sleipnir had grown, he'd become insistent on learning the identity of his father. Alfheim and Vanaheim were unfortunately quite focused on traditional family structures, which left Sleipnir wondering why he was different. Loki had kept it from him originally, but Sleipnir was incredibly intelligent and perceptive. And Loki had not wanted to lie to his son.

Sleipnir was now old enough to understand, so shortly before they'd left Alfheim, Loki had pulled him aside from his games and told him. He had explained that he was a prince—and through Loki, so was Sleipnir—but that Asgard had spurned them. And he had told Sleipnir of the wall incident, although he'd carefully glossed over some parts.

Sleipnir was young still, but his shifter side was very strong within him. He had understood that Loki had not been a willing participant in the act that had led to his conception. And it had broken Loki's heart, because he felt he had failed his child.

"Sleipnir, my darling... It is true that he hurt me. I was very afraid at the time. But if I had to go back, I would not change that. I love you so much, and I will never never regret having you."

Sleipnir's lower lip trembled and his eyes teared up. "Really?"

"Oh, Sleipnir." Loki reconsidered his approach, since clearly Sleipnir had been thinking a great deal about this. "Tell me something. Do you love me?"

"Of course." Sleipnir huffed, and the sound came out a little funny since he was a child, not a colt. "I love you a great deal, Mama."

Mama. Sleipnir was feeling particularly vulnerable if he had called Loki that. "Well, there you go, my little love. No one really loved me in Asgard. I know I must sound morose, but truly I am not. It is but a fact, and I am telling you this because you must understand just how much you have given me. You are precious, a treasure more grand than all the gold and gems in the All-Father's vaults. I will never regret having you, no matter what happens."

A tear slid down Sleipnir's cheek, but he was smiling now. "I understand."

Loki kept looking at his son until the road cleared. Finally, he started the car again and continued on the drive.

It happened incredibly quickly. One moment, he was driving normally, making good progress toward the apartment he had purchased, and the next chaos exploded. For once, it was not chaos he liked.

Something went crashing straight into the road in front of him, sending cars flying and spinning. Loki was too close to the source of the disaster to move back. He pressed on the breaks just in time to keep from colliding with the... thing that had fallen in the middle of the road.

And then Loki's head stopped spinning and he went cold. What was that in front of him? Two automatons? They reminded Loki of the Destroyer in the Weapon's Vault.

But surely, the All-Father wouldn't have sent that thing after Loki and Sleipnir. And further, Loki would have sensed the Bifrost had it hit the ground.

He felt nothing Asgardian, nothing remotely alien to Midgard. So, Midgardian tech then?

Loki didn't get the chance to figure out what was going on, because the bigger of the automatons suddenly got up. He lifted Loki's car like it was nothing, roaring, "I love this suit."

In the back of the car, Sleipnir was wide eyed with fright. Loki himself was torn between shock and anger.

"Put them down," the smaller metal creature said. Its hands were glowing with light, something like seidr, but not.

"Collateral damage, Tony," the big automaton replied.

The smaller metal creature seemed to be complying, obviously concerned for Loki and Sleipnir's well-being. Loki appreciated that, but he had no intention of remaining in this situation any longer. Who did this creature think it was, threatening a god, threatening Sleipnir? Loki might have left Asgard behind, but he was still himself, and if this being thought he could just manhandle him and scare his child, he had another think coming.

As much as he had believed in the necessity of discretion in the use of his seidr, in this, he could not make a compromise.

With a thought, Loki teleported himself and Sleipnir out of the car, to the right of the huge creature. The smaller automaton was clearly not a threat, so Loki focused his anger on the being who had dared to threaten Sleipnir.

"Collateral damage, you say?" he sneered, his armor already forming around him. "I think not."

He lifted a hand, and a beam of green seidr rushed out of him, striking the massive automaton. The thing went flying, crashing against the other side of the road.

Sleipnir whooped and clapped his hands. "Yes, Mama. You show him!"

Loki didn't even need the encouragement. A twist of his fingers, and the metal began to shift and tear into pieces. The automaton was roaring now. "What? What is happening? Tony!"

The smaller metal man straightened his back, observing Loki without trying to approach. "Sorry, Stane. It looks like you pissed off someone with more juice than even me."

It was then that Loki noticed something he had missed before. The metal creatures were not actually machines like the Destroyers. Instead, they seemed... armors, very elaborate armors, but armors nonetheless—with people inside them. Mortals.

With an angry snarl, Loki twisted the head of the bigger armor. It flew off, revealing a bald-headed, pale-faced man. "You dare threaten the life of my child, the life of a prince? I am a god, and this is the last mistake you've ever made, mortal."

The mortal called Stane stared at him as the armor finally came to pieces. For a brief moment, Loki noted that the energy source that powered it was a true work of art. He tucked it into his pocket dimension—something like that couldn't go to waste.

Meanwhile, Stane looked increasingly terrified. "P-Please," he stammered. "I... P-Please. I didn't know. I... I'll give you anything. I'm a rich man. I can pay you. Please."

"We don't need money." Sleipnir snorted from behind Loki. "Stupid mortal."

"Wow, feisty kid you've got there, Reindeer Games," came the voice of the second metal man. Loki turned to glare at him, and the man—Tony?—lifted his hand to points out he was harmless. His face plate also came up, revealing a handsome male visage. "Hey, relax. I'm on your side here. That guy's there is a total prick. He tried to kill me like... half an hour ago." His voice turned lower. "Between you and me, I have no problem with you doing whatever you want to him with your mojo. But other people... They might not be so happy."

He swept his hand all around them, and Loki realized they'd gathered quite a crowd. Other mortals, holding strange devices Loki vaguely remember as meant for long-distance communication—and their attention was clearly on Loki and Sleipnir. They kept their distance from the actual scene, but they were definitely close enough to notice an execution.

This was getting out of hand. "I'm entitled to take my vengeance. He assaulted me and my child."

"Uh, yeah." The mortal Tony scratched his head. "I get the feeling you're not from around here, so I'll just say... Well, it really doesn't work like that here. He's not really a threat anymore." Loki must have glared, because once again Tony backtracked. "I don't blame you, seriously I don't, but it'll be easier for everyone if we just... did things the less bloody way. You know, when in Rome..." Another small pause. "Unless you don't really plan on sticking around, in which case, feel free."

Loki wanted nothing more than to tear the mortal Stane into little pieces, slowly and excruciatingly, until he was begging for death. However, the mortal Tony had a point, as weird as his speech might have been.

Loki had traveled extensively, so he knew that on a different realm, one needed to respect the ways of their hosts. And this was particularly important for Loki, since he needed refuge from Asgard for himself and Sleipnir. Killing the mortal in front of so many people would compromise his stay.

At the end of the day, Sleipnir's safety was more important than revenge.

"Very well," he said. He wove a binding spell around the mortal Stane, and then lowered his hands. "Know this, mortal. Your enemy has just saved your life."

Since the threat had been dealt with, Loki let his armor vanish and turned his attention to Sleipnir. "Are you well, my darling?"

"Sure!" Sleipnir grinned at him, eyes wide and bright. "Do that again! I love it when you use your seidr."

Loki shook his head at his son's antics. Of course Sleipnir loved his seidr—it was a match for Sleipnir's own. Still, he would have preferred it if Sleipnir was not so enthusiastic about a battle that must have caused quite a lot of damage and possibly Midgardian injuries. "Another time, darling."

The mortal Tony came forward, clearing his throat. "Can't argue with you there. So... Is that safe?" he asked pointing to Stane. "He won't get away?"

"Of course not," Sleipnir replied with a huff. "Mama crafts the best spells. No one can get away from him."

Tony's lips twisted into a small, strangely charming smile. "Is that right, little guy?" He shot Loki a grin. "Well, to be perfectly honest, if it were me, I wouldn't want to get away from your mom."

Loki narrowed his eyes at the mortal. Was the man... proposition him? Loki was torn between outrage and interest. After all, the mortal had just watched him make use of powerful seidr and almost kill a man. For a Midgardian, it must have looked frightening. What was this Tony thinking?

In the end, Loki decided he liked the mortal, if nothing else because he'd clearly wanted to save Loki and Sleipnir before it had become obvious that Loki was nowhere near as defenseless as he looked.

And since he was the guest here on Midgard, he decided to introduce himself. Unsettlingly, he found he didn't want to lie about his identity, but he didn't know to which extent his cover had been exposed. His shields were good, and the chaos on Midgard was such that it might have deceived and distracted Heimdall's eye."I am Loptr, and this is my son Sleipnir."

The mortal grinned. "Tony Stark, genius, billionaire, playboy, philantropist. I guess... Welcome to Earth."

Chapter Text

When Tony had left his home with the old reactor powering his new suit, he'd been imagining the confrontation with Stane in many ways. As he'd flown to the Stark Industries HQ, his thoughts had revolved around protecting Pepper and then proceeding to show Stane slowly and painfully why it wasn't a good idea to mess with Tony Stark.

Well aware that in his state, he was no match for a new armor—even one built by Stane—he had already been planning to use the icing problem against him. As it turned out, it hadn't been necessary, because an honest to god magic user had popped up right in front of him.

Tony had no idea what Loptr actually was. Loptr had called himself a god, but well... Tony didn't actually believe in gods. He was vaguely going with alien for the moment—a very attractive, very powerful alien, with a child with a smile like the sun and a wicked sense of humor.

Now, Tony was no idiot. He knew the government would not react well to the situation. As much as he hated it, he had to stop further bloodshed. So he stepped in before Loptr could squash Stane like a bug—although that would have been really, really nice to see. Surprisingly Loptr listened to him. Even more surprisingly, he didn't squash Tony like a bug when Tony acted like his stupid self and flirted with him.

All things considered, it had gone fairly well.

Tony removed his helmet and wondered where he went from here. Fortunately, Sleipnir was better than him at breaking the awkwardness. "Sir Stark, what is it that you are wearing?"

"It's an armor, kid." The kid arched a brow at him, as if saying 'duh', and Tony continued, "Well, it's actually more than that. It's a suit which I built, and it incorporates innovational repulsor technology, weapons, flight stabilizers, and so on. That guy there stole my designs and tried to kill me for it—twice."

Sleipnir gasped. "That's awful." He tossed the still fallen Stane a glare he must have learned from his father—uh, mother (which, what?). "You should have let Mother kill him."

Tony shrugged. "Yes, well, you don't always get what you want, and in the long run, it will be better this way. For you and your mom."

Sleipnir's eyes widened. "I see. You are kind, Sir Stark, to spare your enemy for our sake."

Tony didn't think he'd been particularly kind. He'd fucked up like whoa, first with the Merchant of Death thing, and then with trusting Obie. He'd almost gotten Pepper killed in his arrogance. And then there were these other people in the cars Obie had destroyed. Tony could hear ambulances approaching, but his heart fell at the idea of more blood on his hands.

He staggered slightly, and was steadied by slim-fingered hands. Loptr's hands. "You are hurt, Sir Stark."

"It's nothing." Tony waved a hand, even if he did feel like hell. Now that the adrenaline was starting to fade, all the injuries from Stane's attack were coming back with a vengeance. "I'll be fine."

"Sir Stark, you cannot lie to me." Loptr sighed. "You are anything but fine."

That was true, but Tony hadn't been fine in a while. That would have been quite a feat for someone with shrapnel in his chest.

And speaking of which, he really did need to find the reactor Stane had stolen. If it landed in the wrong hands, the results could be disastrous. "Hey, the chest piece... The thing Stane was using that powered his armor. Where did it go when you disassembled his suit?"

Loptr made a complicated gesture, and suddenly, the reactor was in the palm of his hand. "Here, Sir Stark."

He still sounded wary, clearly concerned, so Tony shot him a quick smile. "Thanks."

He would have liked to replace it now—at JARVIS's last check, his current chest piece had been at 15 percent power—but he wasn't really comfortable with doing that here, and of course, he was still in the armor. And now, there were cars, and police, and likely the CIA and all the agencies with all the initials and gah... Tony really just wanted a nap.

"This has been a fucking long day, I'll tell you that." He stopped, and then shot Sleipnir a glance. "Sorry." Cursing in front of a kid, good going, Tony.

Loptr didn't seem mad about Tony's mistake. "Come. I believe you need rest and medical attention. Is there a way to go to a safer location?"

"My place, I guess, although it's nowhere near here." Understatement of the century, that.

Before Loptr could reply, a black car rolled in and out stepped the agent who'd approached Tony at the party before the Gulmira attack. Tony struggled to remember his name, but he hadn't been paying attention at all.

He did remember that the guy had wanted a meeting with Tony, and he seemed competent enough. Going with his gut, Tony waved at him. "Hey, Agent. Do me a favor. Can you wrap things up here? Thanks, I knew you could do it."

The agent shot him a placid little smile. "We will handle apprehending Mr. Stane, but we also need to debrief you and your... guest."

The idea appealed to Tony about as much as another trip to Afghanistan. It appealed even less when he realized Coulson had clearly seen Loptr's little magic show. And if there was anything Tony was certain right now, it was that no alien entity—no matter how hot and/or adorable—was safe in the hands of the US government. Area 51 anyone?

Loptr seemed to know this as well. "Perhaps later, Agent..."

"Coulson, Sir. Agent Phil Coulson, with the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division."

Loptr didn't even blink at the name. "I see. Well, son of Coul, I'm afraid my son has been through a very traumatic incident. "

As he spoke, Loptr held his son close. Sleipnir had been completely calm and full of enthusiasm earlier, but now, he seemed a trembling, whimpering mess. "Mama... Can we go home?"

"In a minute, darling," Loptr replied. To Coulson, he said, "Sir Stark has agreed to temporarily host us in his home while we recover. I must say his hospitality and kindness does credit to your realm." A little frown. "I have not been impressed by the attack on my child."

His stance practically screamed 'dangerous alien on the warpath', while also being pleasant enough not to suggest an outright threat. Tony had no idea how he managed it, but he also decided to make his stance clear, just in case.

"No worries, Agent. They'll be fine with me." Tony smiled his media smile. "What kind of genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist would I be if I didn't welcome Loptr and Sleipnir properly?"

Coulson back off. "Yes, of course. We understand, Mr. Stark. SHIELD will accommodate your desires, Mr...."

"Loptr."

"Mr. Loptr," Coulson amended, still seeming composed.

Moments after, Pepper drove in, and it was a testament of her incredible concern—and the traumatic attack she himself had been through—that for once, she wasn't completely unruffled. "Tony! Oh my God, Tony, are you all right?"

"I'm fine," Tony replied again. "Found some new friends that helped me out." He pointed at Loptr and Sleipnir, probably less politely than he should have."Pepper, meet Loptr and his son Sleipnir. Loptr, Sleipnir, this is Pepper."

There was a small pause as Pepper tried to process who the hell where Tony's new friends and how he'd managed to meet them when he'd been fighting Stane, and then Loptr bowed. "Lady Stark, it is an honor to meet you," he said—and for God's sake, he sounded like one of those princes in Hallmark movies.

Pepper's eyes widened. "Oh, I'm not... I'm Tony's PA."

"PA?" Sleipnir repeated with a small frown. "What does that mean, Mother?"

"It means personal assistant, little guy," Tony answered. He had no idea if Loptr and Sleipnir had that wherever they came from, but there must have been at least an equivalent, because Sleipnir nodded, looking pleased. "I see."

Tony was too tired to make sense of all that. Stane was already being taken away, and Tony still had to assess exactly how much tech Stane had stolen and sold behind his back. But first, he had to get Loptr and Sleipnir to safety—out of SHIELD's grabby hands, thank you very much—leave the armor and change the arc reactor.

And to think, his grandest plan for this evening had been to do some work on the suit, and maybe actually get dinner.

****

Sleipnir had not wanted to leave Alfheim. He'd been comfortable there, and accustomed to the feel of the seidr in the air. But Sleipnir's mother always knew best, so he had not protested when their imminent departure to Midgard had been announced.

Within the first hour of their arrival to the mortal realm, Sleipnir had decided he hated it. A little after that, he'd changed his mind. He liked the lights and the people, the way they moved so quickly, with such purpose.

And he definitely liked Sir Stark.

Sir Stark had a smile like Mother's and armor shinier than that of the Vanir. He spoke quickly, in a way Sleipnir didn't always understand despite the All-Speak, but there was something about his winding chatter that was comforting.

Sleipnir's seidr sensed darkness in Sir Stark, but it was the kind of darkness born out of pain, like Mother's. And he shone, shone so bright, despite being only a mortal, and so frail and so sick.

Sleipnir was a little disappointed when Sir Stark decided to fly off, but the mortal quickly assured them it would only be for a while, and they would meet back up at his home because apparently 'the armor chaffed'. He wasn't being completely truthful—Sleipnir was the son of the God of Lies and he could tell—but that was okay, because the warmth in the mortal's eyes as he spoke to Sleipnir held no deception.

He only left after the son of Coul and his forces took their leave with the mortal called Stane—Sleipnir suspected the son of Coul posed a threat of sorts, but it was not something he could figure out right now—and after instructing the Lady Pepper to drive them to his home.

The Lady Pepper did indeed lead them out of the city—and Sleipnir was greatly relieved at this—to a more remote area that neighbored the sea. It was pretty far from where Sleipnir and his mother had been, but it was worth it, because Sleipnir liked the sea. One of his favorite past times in Vanaheim had been to ride on the beach—often with his mother beside him. Maybe they could do that again.

Sir Stark's home was lovely if somewhat unusual. The open space appealed to Sleipnir at an instinctual level, but the surfaces were weird, too clean, and the colors too shiny, too metallic. In Alfheim and Vanaheim, all the colors tended to be earthier, warmer, and while Sleipnir's mother was incredibly fastidious about cleanliness, he was also a scholar, so there were a lot of books, knickknacks and tiny things thrown around.

Sir Stark himself met them at the entry, now out of the armor—but weirdly still having the energy core on his person. Sleipnir was still wondering why Sir Stark would need an energy core—when a voice suddenly said, "Welcome, Mr. Loptr, Mr. Sleipnir."

Sleipnir's eyes widened and he let out a little nervous sound that would have been a whinny in his horse form. He stared up around the room, then at the ceiling, seeking the source of the voice. He had not sensed any other presence, either mortal or Aesir. "Who said that?"

Sleipnir's mother was also a little tense—Sleipnir could feel his seidr dancing just under his skin as he pressed their bodies closer. Sir Stark clearly noticed. "Hey, hey, no need for that. Loptr, Sleipnir, I'd like you to meet JARVIS. Jay, Loptr and Sleipnir."

"It is a pleasure," the cultured voice from before said again. The accent sounded a little like Mother's, Sleipnir noted. Suspicious.

"JARVIS is an AI, an artificial intelligence," Sir Stark explained. "He takes care of everything, manages security here and at my other houses. Now, he also helps pilot the suit. If you need anything at all, you can just ask him and he'll help."

"Indeed, Mr. Sleipnir," the voice—JARVIS—said again. "I am at your disposal."

"You are full of surprises indeed, Sir Stark," Sleipnir's mother said. "I did not realize Midgardians had the technology to create such constructs." He hummed. "And without seidr... Truly, your JARVIS is quite a marvel."

"Sir is actually the only one to accomplish such feats," JARVIS said. "He is widely acknowledged on our world as among the greatest minds of our time."

"I see." Sleipnir's mother smiled. "I am doubly pleased for our meeting then. It is always interesting to encounter another scholar."

Sir Stark preened, obviously pleased with the words of Sleipnir's mother. Sleipnir was momentarily distracted from his contemplation of the construct called JARVIS as he took in the expression on Sir Stark's face.

Sleipnir was young still, but he remembered all the men who had tried to court his mother. None of them had been good enough. Most of them didn't understand Mother's seidr at all. They thought Sleipnir was weird. Often, they only wanted to use Mother.

Of course, Mother always made it clear that he was not one to allow such disrespect. And if Mother was distracted, Sleipnir did it in his stead. Even at his age, he could crack a Vanir skull with his hooves.

Sir Stark had shown interest in Mother even earlier on, after the battle. It had been disappointing to meet the Lady Pepper—until it had turned out that she was something akin to a servant (although clearly a highly valued one, given her obvious concern over Sir Stark's well-being).

But whether he realized it or not, Sir Stark had done something no one else had for Sleipnir and his mother. He had put them first, even when he had admitted he hated the mortal called Stane and he'd have preferred to see him dead. Even if they were strangers, he had welcomed them in his home. He'd protected them of the son of Coul. Sir Stark didn't even seem to realize how rare that was, but Sleipnir's mother did. In fact, he seemed quite intrigued, especially after meeting JARVIS.

Of course, it was too soon to tell if Sir Stark was truly worthy of Sleipnir's mother. This required more analysis. For the moment, Sir Stark didn't even know their true identity.

Sleipnir would bide his time and wait a little longer, assess Sir Stark's intentions. Sleipnir liked Sir Stark, so he would give him the benefit of the doubt.

The Lady Pepper cleared her throat, and Sir Stark quickly wrapped up the tour. "Anyway, welcome to casa Stark. I don't actually have real guests that often, but anything you need, Jay is here for you. You'll have free run of most of the place, save for the workshop."

"Please excuse for a minute," the Lady Pepper said. "Tony will be right back."

The Lady Pepper pulled Sir Stark outside. With his enhanced hearing, Sleipnir overheard what she said, "Tony, what are you thinking? This is... You don't know these people."

"Sure I do. It's fine, Pep. Trust me on this."

"Oh, Tony..."

The conversation turned at a lower volume after that, but Sleipnir had heard enough.

"Does the Lady Pepper dislike us?" he asked, saddened.

"Not at all, Mr. Sleipnir," JARVIS replied. "Ms. Potts is merely concerned for Sir. Tonight has been taxing in more than one way."

Sleipnir's mother scowled. "Sir Stark spoke of being almost killed?"

"Indeed." JARVIS's voice was sedate, heavy with emotion. "The attempt happened right here in this living room. I could do nothing since Mr. Stane managed to successfully override my protocols."

JARVIS sounded so sad, and Sleipnir felt something sizzle over his seidr core, like a barely perceivable presence. He shared a look with his mother, who had clearly noticed as well. Interesting.

"You don't have to worry now, JARVIS," Sleipnir said. "Mother and I are here. We'll take care of Sir Stark."

"Thank you." JARVIS paused. "Sir seems to like you a great deal."

His tone was level, to the point that Sleipnir couldn't really read him. Sleipnir's mother didn't have that problem. "It is surprising, is not?" he asked. "He has just been so terribly betrayed—by a man he must have been close to given what I have witnessed so far—and he receives us in his home. That is what you are thinking, JARVIS."

"Do not take offense, Mr. Loptr. Sir... Miss Potts and I have just welcomed him back. We fear for him."

"We're not offended." Sleipnir bounced on the soles of his feet. It was true, now that he thought about it. "I understand. If something so terrible happened to Mother, I would feel the same."

That was really all there was to it. JARVIS might be a construct, but it was clear to Sleipnir now that he had a soul, and Sir Stark was for lack of a better word, his father.

JARVIS seemed surprised, but finally answered, "Indeed, Mr. Sleipnir."

Sleipnir didn't really know what to do in this situation, but fortunately his mother did. "JARVIS, it is likely you do not understand who Sleipnir and I are, but you have my most solemn vow that I wish no harm to come to your creator. Insofar as it is in my power, I will keep any harm from coming to him. This I swear on my seidr."

His eyes and hands glowed with runes as he spoke, solidifying the vow. Sleipnir understood his mother's reasoning. It had been fortunate indeed that their path had crossed that of Sir Stark.

For Sir Stark's house was beautiful, but empty. The only one to have showed up so far was the Lady Potts, and while Sir Stark might have other friends, JARVIS had only mentioned himself and her in the explanation.

Other than JARVIS and his faithful Pepper, Sir Stark was alone, and that was truly not enough protection.

Sleipnir suspected that if JARVIS had had a face, he would be gaping. "My apologies, but I'm afraid I have no protocols as to how to handle such a situation."

"You do not need to do anything," Sleipnir's mother said, chuckling lightly. "It is my vow to you. You see, beings of magic like Sleipnir and I do not make such oaths lightly, but it was only suitable that I do so for you, JARVIS Starkson."

JARVIS didn't get to answer that, because Sir Stark finally returned. "That went well," he mumbled.

"The Lady Pepper is displeased, I take it," Sleipnir's mother asked.

"She wants me to go to the hospital." Sir Stark crossed his arms over his chest. "I hate hospitals."

"In this situation, Sir, I'm afraid I would agree with Miss Potts," JARVIS intervened.

"Sorry, Jay, no dice. Too much to do. Besides, can't exactly leave Loptr and Sleipnir alone. You'd miss me, wouldn't you?"

He grinned at Sleipnir's mother, wide and hopeful. There were lines at the corner of his eyes, the lines that sometimes appeared when Sleipnir's mother talked about Asgard.

Sleipnir did not know what to make of Midgard. It was an unlike any of the realms he and his mother had been on so far.

But he knew what his instincts, his heart and his seidr told him, so he let them guide him—and he hugged Sir Stark. "Yes, we would."

Chapter Text

 When Sleipnir hugged the mortal Tony Stark, Loki didn't know who was more surprised—he or their host. Sleipnir was a very affectionate person, but he didn't much like touching people other than Loki. Apparently, Tony Stark was an exception. And Loki couldn't even bring himself to be wary over it.

In fact, it was actually sort of amusing. Despite being only a child, Sleipnir was quite strong, especially compared to a mortal. His momentum made Sir Stark stumble and nearly fall over. Loki teleported and supported the mortal before he could hurt himself more than he already was—which meant they ended up in this weird little three-way embrace.

"Sleipnir," Loki chastised his son, "I told you to be careful while on Midgard."

"Yes, Mother," Sleipnir said dutifully. He didn't regret it at all, the brat. If anything, he looked smug.

"It's fine." Sir Stark cleared his throat. "I was just surprised."

Sir Stark's scent teased Loki's nostrils, attractive and spicy, but slightly tinged with something Loki truly hated. It birthed a contradictory response within Loki, but it also made him remember there were a lot of things they needed to talk about. He pulled away.

Sleipnir still stubbornly held on, and Sir Stark didn't try to free himself. "So... Have you guys eaten? I feel like I've been a terrible host."

"I could eat," Sleipnir piped up. An arched brow from Loki had him quickly adding, "Thank you for your hospitality, Sir Stark."

"Don't mention it, kid. And really, you don't have to call me Sir Stark. Tony is fine."

Tony. Now that he thought about it, Sir Stark's name didn't seem to fit him as much as Loki would have liked. And Loki knew all about the importance of names. "Tony. Is that your given name?"

"Sir's full name is Anthony Edward Stark," JARVIS helpfully provided. Apparently, JARVIS was pleased about the exchange. Duly noted.

"Anthony then." Loki nodded. "Very well."

Anthony groaned. "Jay... You're killing me here. Tell me you haven't already started plotting with Loptr and Sleipnir."

"I wouldn't dream of it, Sir," came the reply.

Anthony let out another sigh, but didn't pursue the matter. Loki suspected the banter was a regular thing between the two. "Okay, so what would you guys like? Would pizza do?"

"If I may, Sir, perhaps it would be a good idea to learn if there is anything our guests dislike or would make them ill."

Loki nodded in approval. "Something with no meat for Sleipnir, please. Everything else is fine." No cuisine could actually make him and Sleipnir ill—their seidr wouldn't allow it—but Sleipnir simply couldn't eat meat. It came with his nature.

Anthony seemed to have finally remembered that they weren't actually human, because he hummed thoughtfully. "Right. And quantity wise?"

Fortunately, Loki had taken the time to learn the measuring system of the Midgardians before he had moved here with Sleipnir. "Perhaps one pound for Sleipnir, and double that for myself."

Anthony whistled. "Wow. You hear that, Jay? Adjust my regular order accordingly. Italian, and have them deliver. No worries about price."

"Of course, Sir. The delivery should be here within the hour."

That was enough time for Loki to discuss the matter that had been on his mind since his sworn oath. "Anthony, if I may... I fear I haven't been entirely fair with you. Since you've shown Sleipnir and I such hospitality, I believe I owe you honesty in return."

Anthony let out a little awkward laugh. "I don't think I've done all that much. It's just pizza..."

Loki saw things differently. He didn't remember a time when he and Sleipnir had ever been received in someone's home without some degree of suspicion. A single father with a shapeshifter child was not exactly common, and while that in itself was not enough to draw Asgard's eye, it did leave them a little isolated even in magical communities.

Alfheim scholars had been friendlier than most, and in his travels, there had even been some men who'd shown interest in Loki as a potential romantic partner—but it had never been like this, with such openness.

"Nevertheless, you must hear me out." He hesitated, musing over his words. Some of the things he was about to reveal were truly uncomfortable, and he didn't like to talk about them in front of Sleipnir. Even if Sleipnir knew or had guessed most of it, he didn't want to make it even more jarring for his son than it already was.

He knelt in front of his son and kissed his forehead. "Perhaps you can give our host and I a little moment, my darling?"

Sleipnir pouted, but acquiesced. "Of course, Mother."

As it turned out, instead of Sleipnir giving them a moment, Anthony and Loki stepped onto the large terrace. They had not gotten the chance to explore at leisure, and Loki was uncomfortable with the idea of Sleipnir going anywhere without him around to supervise.

He tossed a look back toward his son, who had disappeared to explore the house. "Don't worry," Anthony told him. "Jay will keep an eye on him."

Loki nodded. "I know, but unfortunately, worrying is my default state." He stared out at the darkened ocean. "The truth is... Sleipnir and I are in hiding."

There was a small pause, and then Anthony asked, "What? Why? Is someone after you?"

His voice had changed, no trace of awkwardness left behind. The tone held a threat, but when Loki looked at him, he knew the threat was not directed at him.

"The circumstances of Sleipnir's birth were... unusual," he explained. "I have not been in contact with my family since then, but I fear they would see it as improper, even shameful. They would try to take him."

"Jesus." Anthony passed a hand through his hair. In the silence of the night, the energy core he still carried buzzed with a strange sort of Midgardian magic. "Who would do something like that?"

"He is the king of Asgard and, I suppose, my father."

"Asgard?" Anthony repeated. He narrowed his eyes, having obviously noticed the 'I suppose'. Loki would have to discuss that soon—just not now. "Whoa, so you are an alien of a sort."

"That would be an accurate descriptor. Anthony, I must make this very clear. Mine is a very dangerous enemy. Asgard has a gatekeeper, an ever-present guardian who can see all. I have shields around myself and Sleipnir, so he cannot see us, but should my true name be mentioned by third parties, it would eventually be noticed. Please, understand, I would not blame you if you turned us away knowing this. I have been protecting Sleipnir for centuries. There are other places we can go to, even if today's events make Midgard an unavailable option."

"No!" Anthony exclaimed. "I mean... This is kind of my fault, isn't it? If not for Stane and me, you wouldn't have exposed yourself with your mojo. And besides... I might be a fuck up, but I'd have to be more heartless than all the media calls me to say no to you. I swear, between the two of you, you could rule the world with just smiles."

Loki laughed. "Why, Anthony, I do believe you are flattering me."

"It's not flattery if it's true." Anthony's small grin melted into a serious expression again. "Here's the thing. Here on Earth, I'm a pretty influential guy. Most days, that's pretty good. Sometimes... Not so much. As you could see, I have a fair amount of enemies. But the enemies I do have... Well, let's just say they don't last long if I can help it. It's your call if you decide to stay or not, but if you do, your enemies will be mine. I'm not afraid of Asgard."

Anthony's eyes burned with the fire of destruction, with chaos and vengeance and promise. Loki's body responded, his seidr swirling deliciously as his dick hardened.

He shook his head to clear it. Now was not the time for this. He needed to think about Sleipnir.

"Do you even know anything about them?"

"Bits and pieces," Anthony said. "Not much. I was never a mythology buff, but I had a nanny who was from Sweden and she told me a handful of stories. Howard—that's my dad—sometimes spoke about it, but I never understood much of his ramblings. I outgrew it quickly, but I had a stage when I was fascinated with the idea of interstellar travel. It wasn't really my thing—I'm no astrophysicist—but I do recall something about a... Rainbow Bridge? I always thought that sounded kind of funny. And there was something very creepy... Something about... lip-sewing..."

Loki must have reacted in some way, because the blood drained out of Anthony's face. "You're shitting me. That actually happened? To...you?"

Loki nodded. Most of the legends of him had faded away from Midgard, but it seemed he was still remembered by some, probably because of his connection to Mjolnir, and unavoidably, Thor.

"So you're..."

Another nod. Anthony cursed. "Fuck. That's... not right. Okay, I can totally believe them taking Sleipy."

The nickname snapped Loki out of his horrified trance. "Sleipy?"

"Easier to say than the full name, eh?" Anthony grinned. "And in that spirit, I'm going to just call you Lo. Short for Loptr."

Anthony understood. Of course he did. It was sort of fit—since Loki was also Loptr, in more than one way. "Thank you, Anthony. You are truly a man unlike any other."

Anthony shrugged. "I'm not that special. Just a guy who's made mistakes and has been trying to fix them." He smiled at Loki. "You want to hear something crazy?"

"Of course."

"You're probably new around here, so you don't know—but it's not actually a secret either. A few months ago, I was kidnapped by terrorists in a country called Afghanistan. Before that, I built weapons. I was great at it—and they called me the Merchant of Death. Anyway, a lot of shit happened, but I managed to escape." Once again his voice had that dark note, and Loki suspected that escape had ended in a lot of bloodshed. Good.

"When I did that, I swore I'd change my life," Anthony continued. "I swore I'd do better. No more weapons. The suit as a new beginning. I had a friend in Afghanistan, you see, someone who helped me, and... died for me. If nothing else, I owed him that much. But when I came back... Even the people who support me seem to think I'm crazy for trying to change. Pepper, my friend Rhodey... They're not happy with me shutting down the weapons division. I don't know what'll happen now, but it didn't look good before this thing with Stane."

Anthony glanced back at Loki. "But the thing is, since tonight, since meeting you and Sleipy, I feel... It's different. Like the two of you just give me something I didn't have before. Crazy, huh?"

Loki thought at his despair after Svadilfari, of how afraid he'd been, and how much strength having Sleipnir had given him. He thought about everything he'd learned since then, secrets and lies embedded in his skin, terrors he'd managed to surpass just because of his son. "No. It's not crazy at all."

The sound of something crashing from inside interrupted their conversation. Loki supposed it had been unavoidable. He was grateful his son had managed to stay out of trouble for as long as he had.

It was only when he and Anthony returned to the house that Loki realized what had happened. His son must have been more restless than Loki had expected, because he'd shifted into his horse form and somehow managed to knock over one of Anthony's tables.

The moment he heard them, Sleipnir froze and slowly turned his head. He had grown from the tiny colt he had been, although he was still nowhere near the massive stallion he would undoubtedly become as an adult. His eight legs were a manifestation of his seidr, and gave him skills no other shape-shifter would have. His hooves were like Mjolnir's uru, shining pearlescent in all the colors of the Bifrost. His mane was silver, like spun moonlight. He was beautiful.

Even so, in the past, this shape had given them problems. And Sleipnir was strong, in more than one way, but he was also young and vulnerable. He whinnied and snorted nervously, narrowly managing not to step into the glass on the floor. For once, Loki had no idea what to do.

Anthony broke the silence that had settled over the room. "Holy shit. Sleipy, is that you?"

"Indeed, Anthony," Loki replied. "My son is a gifted shape-shifter."

He carefully watched Anthony, assessing him for any sign of rejection. He already felt close to the mortal, but if Anthony could not accept this part of his son, Loki and Sleipnir would leave without looking back.

But Anthony didn't seem to care about Sleipnir's unusual look. "Wow. Look at that. Now I know you guys are actually gods, because no horse—alien or not—could look like that while on eight legs."

Anthony sounded... admiring. Sleipnir tilted his head, obviously intrigued by his reaction. "Seriously, kid, you look like something out of the Lord of the Rings." Anthony grinned. "Who needs Shadowfax when we've got you?"

Loki had no idea what a Shadowfax was, but it must have been something good judging by the mortal's tone. Anthony tossed a look toward Loki. "Hey, is it okay if I get closer? I won't scare him, will I?"

In response, Sleipnir let out a little whinny and trotted to Anthony's side on his own. He nudged Anthony with his head, making Anthony chuckle. The mortal passed a hand over Sleipnir's glossy silver coat. "You know, JARV, I think maybe gold is overrated. Maybe I'll add a dash of silver to the next armor. Maybe... Silver and green. What do you think?"

"I think that would be a grand idea, Sir," JARVIS replied.

Anthony hummed, still petting Sleipnir with seemingly no concern that his hooves could actually hurt him. And for all that Loki was the God of Lies, he couldn't help the tear that slid down his cheek, burning his skin. He quickly wiped it away, before anyone but possibly JARVIS could see it.

Anthony had said his suit had been meant as his new beginning. But maybe this strange thing they had found could be more a new beginning for the three of them.

Now, if only he could figure out how to deal with the energy core that seemed to be poisoning Anthony.

Chapter Text

The next morning dawned bright and early, and with a visit from Agent Coulson, he who belonged to the agency with a far too complicated name.

Loki and Sleipnir were outside, taking a walk on the beach, so Tony gave them their time together and decided to get this meeting over with. He actually kind of liked Coulson, since apparently, he'd helped Pepper out with Obie.

He also knew that Stane had killed several of the members of Coulson's team. If only because of that, he wanted to make this as painless as possible. In truth, he was incredibly grateful that Loki had shown up when he had. While there had been casualties among the civilians, Loki had stopped Stane from truly going on a rampage. The situation wasn't perfect, and Tony had arranged for JARVIS to support the families of the wounded and dead—but all things considered, it had ended far better than it could have.

"So, Agent," he said, "what can I do for you today?"

"Mr. Stark, we've successfully managed to contain Mr. Loptr's involvement in yesterday's incident. Thankfully, it seems all footage of Mr. Loptr is extremely blurry. However, the matter of the suits of armor involved in the battle remains."

Tony was awfully curious how SHIELD had managed to hide what Loki had done, but he supposed explanations could be found if one tried hard enough. Some sort of magnetic interference to harm Stane's suit. Flashes of lights from the armor for the visual side of Loki's mojo. Convenient that the spells of protection Loki had mentioned must have kept any of the people with cellphones from grabbing images of him in the fancy Reindeer getup.

"I take it I have to step up to say I was there?" he told Coulson. "Fair enough, Agent. I didn't want to hide anyway. I'm not really the hiding type."

"That isn't exactly what I meant. They're calling the suit Iron Man. It's still in question whether that was actually you inside or not."

Tony supposed that made sense. He'd only removed his helmet for a little while and SHIELD were almost alarmingly efficient at media wrangling. Adding Loki's little light show to that... If someone had seen him, it could be easily waved off.

"What are you suggesting?"

"We have put something together." Coulson was already in motion, retrieving a file from his briefcase. "Officially, the man in the armor would be your bodyguard."

"And Stane?"

"Mr. Stane will be prosecuted for his involvement in your kidnapping and the sale of the Stark Industries weapons. There is no way around that."

Tony almost regretted keeping Loki from killing Stane. It would have been much easier if Stane had conveniently died and they could say he'd had an airplane accident or something.

But then, SHIELD would have targeted Loki and Sleipy, and that was simply unacceptable.

"I'll think about it," he said. "What about Lo and his son?"

"We will need them to come in for a—"

"Yeah, no, that's not going to happen," Tony cut the agent off, snapping the file shut. "Here's the thing, Coulson. Your... SHIELD? They're not getting their greasy little fingers on Lo and Sleipnir. Don't mess with me on this. You know what happens to the people who mess with me."

Coulson stared at him placidly, but Tony wasn't fooled. This guy knew all about the Ten Rings and everyone Tony had killed during his escape and shortly after that. It was a gamble to threaten at this point, but it was also better to make things clear.

"Mr. Stark, I understand your concern, but the individual who introduced himself as Loptr could be a hostile. I would consider my actions carefully."

Clearly, Coulson had been close enough during the battle to see Loki's use of his mojo. Well, no matter.

"Here's the thing, Agent. I did a little digging yesterday. And you know what? Turns out Howard was among the main founders of SHIELD. Over fifty percent of SHIELD funding still comes from Stark Industries. And that is without taking into account independent operations, like the Captain America search. So let me put it to you like this I don't have to act in any way. All I have to do is stop."

The fact that he actually managed to draw an expression from Coulson was worth all the research he'd done after Loki and Sleipnir had gone to bed. (And really, even if Tony hadn't already decided to protect the two of them, he would have been sold when he heard Loki singing to Sleipy.)

JARVIS had been very enthusiastic in his search, and while they couldn't exactly dig out all of SHIELD's dirty little secrets—especially not in one night, and not without an in to their internal networks—one thing still remained valid. Money talked. Iron Man might have burned the Ten Rings to bits, but Tony Stark was capitalism incarnate. He knew what made the world go round.

"Nothing happened, Agent," he told Coulson. "You said it yourself. The footage was blurry. So chaotic. It was just a frightened man and his son. Maybe they were dressed in a Halloween suit at one point. Who gives a fuck, you know?"

"Indeed, Mr. Stark. Nothing happened."

Just as Coulson spoke, Loki and Sleipnir reentered the mansion. Sleipnir made a beeline for the fridge and grabbed a bottle of OJ. Loki practically glided in after him. "Agent Coulson. My apologies for not being here upon your arrival. You wished to speak to me?"

"I do not believe that will be necessary at this time," Coulson replied. "Mr. Stark has answered all my questions. We will contact you again should SHIELD need any further information."

Coulson left shortly after that, and Loki watched him go with an unreadable expression. "Hmmm," he said once the agent had abandoned the mansion.

"What? What is it?"

Loki stole a look at Tony, amusement dancing in his eyes. "Agent Coulson was quite pleased at the result of the meeting. He thinks your protectiveness toward me will lead you to cooperate with SHIELD in the future."

Tony's eyes widened. He hadn't realized that had been their game. "Seriously? I kind of feel stupid now."

"Don't." Loki grinned. "I liked your avid defense of us. It was very... appealing."

Tony's libido immediately responded, but he did his best to smother his arousal. There was a child nearby, for God's sake.

"At any rate," Loki continued, "I do not think he was completely aware of just how much power you hold over his little organization."

Tony snorted. "I imagine not. I wasn't aware until yesterday. I really didn't have any reason to look."

"Truly? You don't manage your accounts?"

Tony smiled sheepishly. "I actually hate the formalities that come with being CEO of Stark Industries. Pepper has been doing three quarters of it for me since I hired her. And to be fair, SI has fingers in a lot of pies."

"Indeed, Sir," JARVIS confirmed. "I have taken the liberty to peruse all Stark Industries contracts and I will compile a record of what could prove to be useful for you in the future."

Tony wasn't sure what to make of JARVIS's show of initiative. Mostly, he decided he was proud. "That's my boy, Jay. You show them." He frowned slightly. "And remind me, I have to give you an upgrade ASAP. Wouldn't want these SHIELD creeps breaking through your firewalls."

"That would be greatly appreciated, Sir."

"But not today," Sleipnir intervened. "Today, I want to talk about that."

He had abandoned his OJ, and he was now pointing at the arc reactor, glaring at it quite aggressively. Despite himself, Tony had a flash of Obie approaching him with that godawful machine that had literally torn his heart out.

He reminded himself this was Sleipy and clenched his fist so that he wouldn't protectively cover the arc reactor casing. "About what exactly?"

"The... energy core thing. I don't like it."

"Sleipnir!" Loki intervened. "We've talked about this."

They had? When? On the beach, maybe. But what exactly had they discussed?

Loki didn't want or need the reactor. That much had been obvious since he had just given it back when Tony had asked. Not to mention that Loki was a centuries-old alien with enough mojo to tear one of Tony's armors to pieces without breaking a sweat.

Sleipnir had said he didn't like it, and he seemed genuinely distraught. "I know what you said, Mama, but... We can't just let this continue. Please..."

Tony couldn't bear to hear that tone in Sleipy's voice. Maybe it made him a sucker, but whatever. "It's fine, Sleipy. Just tell me what's bothering you."

"It's... bad. It's hurting you."

Tony couldn't argue with that. He had never discussed it with anyone but Yinsen and on occasion, JARVIS, but the insertion of the reactor had naturally come with a great deal of strain on his body. The shrapnel was only a small part of what was wrong with him. Ribs, sternum, lungs—a lot of things had suffered. Most of the time, he wasn't in too much pain, but he was never unaware of the terrible privilege he carried.

"It is, kid," he admitted. "But here's the thing. There are some tiny pieces of metal very close to my heart. The reactor keeps the shrapnel out."

"Should you be telling us this?" Loki asked quietly. Judging by his sedate expression, he'd obviously made the connection with the kidnapping.

Tony shrugged. "You could kill me with a flick of your pretty fingers, Lo. You don't need the reactor for that."

"I suppose." Loki looked pained. "But you must know, Anthony... Your reactor is also poisoning you. Sleipnir and I could feel it ever since last night."

Tony let his eyes drift shut. This was not news to him. Palladium in the chest was a painful way to die.

For the moment, he wasn't in immediate danger. It would take a while for the effects to show. He hoped to find another element that could replace the palladium core. But there had been so much going on, Gulmira, the suit, Stane locking him out of the company... He hadn't even had a moment to focus on that.

"I know," he whispered.

Loki moved, sliding closer to Tony. "Anthony, if I may... Can I look at your chest? I promise I will not use any magic on you without permission."

Tony's hands were sweating, but he miraculously managed to nod. "Yeah, okay."

Loki pressed his hands to his chest, slowly and carefully. Tony momentarily flinched, but then he forced himself to look at Loki, to not forget where he was or remember Yinsen's operation, the cave. It helped when Sleipy came to him and took his hand. The kid seemed to have an uncanny knack at reading Tony and knowing exactly when he was needed.

Okay, Tony think about something else. Loki. Loki's eyes were very green, his skin marble-white and so perfect it almost seemed he didn't have pores. How did that even work? God, he was beautiful. And his magic... His seidr, as he called it. How did he do the things he did? Tony was fascinated.

He only realized he'd completely relaxed and forgotten about what Loki was doing when Loki retracted his hands.

"Thank you, Anthony. I have managed to assess your condition."

"Okay, so what's the verdict, Doc?"

"I did indeed find the pieces of metal you mentioned. There are two ways I can think of through which I could remove them."

Tony jolted. "Seriously? You can get them out?" Yinsen had told him there were too many and far too close to his heart. Tony had considered another surgery when he'd returned from Afghanistan, but there were so many potential complications he could die on the doctor's table.

"Indeed. The first method would be to simply remove the shrapnel out of your chest using my magic... shift it out. It is akin to teleportation, and it is often used on the field of battle to remove foreign bodies from the wounded. However, this would come with problems since the metal is in such a delicate area. While I have a great deal of experience at intricate workings, I remain very aware that you are mortal, and I would prefer not to chance it."

Okay, Tony supposed that made sense, since it sounded kind of like the magical version of chest surgery, and it would probably involve problems similar to what the doctors had told him.

"And the second option?"

"Basically, it would involve pinpointing each individual piece of shrapnel and... melting it for lack of a better word. To prevent noxious effects, I would have to do it one at a time, within a larger time frame. And of course, there would be an additional spell that would cleanse your body of the toxicity." Loki paused. "Whether or not you decide on trusting me on the matter of the shrapnel, I would at least ask that you accept this spell. It would not heal you, but it would keep the poison in check."

Tony's mind swirled. It would be naive to trust a man he'd just met yesterday with the shrapnel in his chest, but at the same time, this was more than he'd had yesterday. And something about Loki just made him feel safe—like Loki had been where he was, like they understood one another.

"Really?" he choked out, almost unable to believe it. "You could do that?"

"Yes, but that would still leave the problem of your chest trauma. That is... harder to fix."

Tony knew that of course. From the moment he'd woken up with a battery strapped to his chest, he'd known he'd never be the same again. And yet, Loki had said 'harder', not 'impossible'.

"But could you do it?"

"Yes. I would likely require some things I cannot find on Midgard to ensure the safety of the process, but yes, it is doable."

Tony didn't know what to say. He felt like he was choking. "I... Loki... I..."

Suddenly, Loki was hugging him from the front, and Sleipnir from the side. "Hush now. You don't have to give me an answer on the spot. Think about it. Talk to JARVIS. Sleipnir and I aren't going anywhere."

And Tony believed him, believed like had never believed anything else—not even his own genius or the success of the Iron Man suit.

Some twist of destiny had led their paths to cross. In another world, it might have never happened. In another world, he might have been left at the mercy of SHIELD's lies. Loki might have perhaps been all alone, trying to protect his son with no one to help or support him.

But for whatever reason, they had found one another, and that meant something.

This would be a huge change, and a huge leap of faith. He had to consider everything carefully. "I'll think about it. Thank you." He took a deep breath, in the process inhaling Loki's clean, fresh scent. "For the moment that spell you mentioned would be nice. And maybe a little extra for yesterday's bruises?"

Loki chuckled. "My thanks, Anthony. I wanted to ask you yesterday, but... Allowing the use of magic on one's self is a great sign of trust. I did not wish to push, when you did not have faith in your own healers."

"It's fine. They're not you."

"Sleipnir, my darling, please take a step back."

Instantly, Sleipnir's presence disappeared, leaving just Tony and Loki standing very close to one another. Loki broke the embrace, and for a few seconds, Tony felt the loss like a physical blow.

And then, Loki's fingers began to weave an invisible pattern, swaying hypnotically over Tony's skin. Green strands soon manifested, sliding through the material of Tony's clothes. Tony gasped as he felt the magic seep into his skin.

"Please let me know if you feel uncomfortable."

"Uncomfortable is not the word I would use," Tony somehow managed to say.

Behind him, Sleipnir chortled. "I'm going to my room. See you later, Mother, Sir Anthony."

Tony would have been embarrassed that Sleipnir obviously knew what Tony meant, but he couldn't really bring himself to focus on something so trivial. For God's sake, this felt more intimate than sex. It seemed like Loki was literally inside him, touching every part of him—and they weren't even in physical contact.

He stayed completely still, trying in vain to steady his breath. Loki didn't seem to deem his behavior inappropriate. In fact, he treated it almost clinically—kind of like a doctor who accidentally got his patient aroused at a check-up.

Tony would have been disappointed, but he thought he understood Loki's mental process. Loki was completely 'in the zone', focused on the spell work, like Tony got when he came up with a crazy idea and ignored sleeping and eating until he let it all out. For the Tony, the end result was that he staggered out of the lab three days later, unshaved, unwashed and covered in oil. Loki looked beautiful ethereal, like a god.

When it ended, Tony had enough wanking material for a lifetime. And of course, Loki had to smile then, and nearly make Tony come into his pants.

"It is done," Loki said. "For the moment, I have eliminated the poison from your bloodstream."

Now that he was paying attention, Tony did in fact realize that he felt much better. The bruises from yesterday no longer hurt, and neither did his chest. He would have probably felt a little more clear-headed than he did if not for the lingering fog of arousal.

"T-Thanks," he stammered. "I... I gotta go. Just for a bit."

Without waiting for an answer from Loki, Tony fled. He found the nearest bathroom, hastily unzipped his jeans and furiously started working his dick.

He hadn't come so quickly since he'd been fifteen. "Fuck, Tony," he mumbled to himself as he was washing his hands. "Get a fucking grip."

By the time he went back to find Loki, he was embarrassed by getting aroused and quite frankly mortified that Loki would think he had no stamina.

Loki was busy reading what seemed to be the manual for the blender. Tony wondered what Loki wanted with it, but he decided against asking. "Sorry about that," he said instead.

Loki shrugged. "You needn't be. It happens for certain people." His thin lips twisted into a wicked grin. "Although you needn't have left. I could have... given you a hand."

Tony's mind almost broke at the idea of Loki's beautiful fingers on his cock. Unfortunately, before his system could reboot and he could provide an actual answer, Sleipnir burst into the room.

"Mama! I found something!"

Sleipnir seemed alarmed, no, almost in a panic, and it threw a bucket of ice water over Tony's arousal. "What is, my darling?" Loki immediately asked.

"There are... things. Things mortals say about you. On the... Inter Web."

Loki went rigid. "Sleipnir, you mustn't pay attention to those things. It is just Midgardian nonsense."

Sleipnir shook his head, fat tears now sliding down his fair cheeks. "No... This is... It's about... what happened when you had me."

Tony hadn't thought Loki could get any paler, but apparently he was mistaken. "Anthony," he told Tony, "please excuse me. I must have a word in private with my son."

Tony nodded numbly, and Loki left, followed by his still-crying child. "I am sorry, Sir," JARVIS offered. "I merely meant to distract him and I thought he would find the Internet intriguing. There was an adult filter on, but I did not expect he would google his mother's name, or that he'd find such a thing."

Tony knew he shouldn't pry, but he'd never been good at doing what he was supposed to do. "Show me, Jay."

JARVIS sent the link to his tablet, and Tony read the last story that mentioned Loki in the Norse myths. The wall of Asgard. The threats of the Aesir. The horse Svadilfari.

Tony felt nauseous. Unconventional circumstances indeed. No wonder Loki had been too frightened to return to Asgard.

If Tony had to guess—since the lip-sewing thing had actually happened—the Norse myths had been brought to Earthgard by the Aesir themselves. By extension, the speculation in this particular story—that Loki had enjoyed horse cock so much he'd decided to remain a mare and whore around until Ragnarok—was quite likely something that also came from Asgardian sources.

It was the most classic and disgusting case of victim blaming in... ever.

Certainly, if Tony hadn't know any better, he might have actually believed the story. After all, Loki was an alien and might enjoy bestiality, especially while in the form of an animal.

But the thing was, Tony did know better. He had only met Loki and Sleipnir yesterday, but he understood that even in shifted form, the shape-shifter's mind remained the same. It had been quite obvious yesterday, when Sleipy had been a horse.

And if that hadn't actually sufficed to make things clear for Tony, Loki and Sleipnir's reactions definitely did.

Loki had been raped. By a fucking horse.

All things considered, Tony wouldn't have blamed Loki if he hadn't kept the child that had been the product of such an act. Every woman—or in this case man capable of conception—had the right to choose whatever they wished when it came to unwanted pregnancies. But Loki had not done away with the baby. Instead, he'd kept it, left everything behind and turned away from everything he had been.

It was incredibly, ridiculously brave.

Even after he had finished reading, Tony stayed where he was. He didn't talk to JARVIS again. He simply waited.

It was a long while later that Loki emerged from Sleipnir's room. He was still pale and his eyes were red-rimmed. "How is he?" Tony asked softly.

"Not well, I'm afraid," Loki replied. "I always feared this might happen one day, that he would hear a story somewhere about Asgard and the wall. I've only recently told him about it, and he's still struggling to accept it." A deep sigh. "I wish I could have protected him from it, but... It no longer seemed possible."

Tony didn't know what to say to that. The closest thing he had to kids were the bots, and of course, JARVIS. But the bots didn't need expressions of complicated emotion, and JARVIS was better at reading Tony than Tony himself. So he had no idea what to do with this kind of situation.

But he did know one thing. None of this shit was Loki's fault. And there was only so long Loki could have hidden it.

"You're right on that one. Sleipy is a bright kid," he said. "He would have poked and prodded until he'd found out anyway. Besides, secrets always have a way of coming out. Better to tell him yourself, when you can control the fall out."

"That was what I believed as well. But I've been wrong before. I simply... I do not know."

He walked out of the room, onto the terrace. He looked like he wanted to be alone, but Tony still followed him outside.

Loki was leaning against the banister, and Tony joined him, watching his face closely. "Do you pity me now, Anthony?" Loki's lips curled, but it was not the bright open smile from before. "Or rather, are you disgusted by me?"

"Disgust is the last thing I feel right now. Mostly, I'm fucking pissed off."

Loki threw a glance his way. "You are... angry? Why? Do you feel I have deceived you?"

"No, Lo, stop. It's nothing like that." Tony passed a hand through his hair. "It's just... How could they treat you like that? Hell, God only knows I don't have the most stellar family history, but your dad really takes the cake."

"I cannot argue with you there, Anthony, although I believe most people would disagree."

Bright fury exploded through Tony. "Fuck most people. Seriously, fuck 'em. You're awesome, Lo, really, you are. You did your best to help your people, and you only got dissed for your effort." And hell if Tony couldn't empathize with that, although Howard hadn't taken it that far. He guessed there was always someone worse. "And because your dad was shitty and irresponsible, you ended up in a bad situation, but you still did your best even then. You fought your way out of it, and now, you have an amazing, clever kid to show for it."

Even if Loki's stance screamed defensiveness, Tony let his heart guide him and pulled Loki close. "It's not your fault. For any of it."

Loki was much taller than him, and that should have made things awkward, but it didn't. When Loki relaxed against his chest, it somehow felt right. "Thank you, Anthony."

Tony wanted nothing more than to let the matter go, but for some reason, he couldn't. "Lo... I don't know how to say this. I'm a bit confused about how you guys age. But... If this was a while ago..."

Loki's laugh was sharp and held no humor. "You are clever, Anthony. Indeed, I was very young, barely out of childhood myself. A teenager, as you would call it here—barely old enough to breed. Merely a century or so older than what Sleipnir is now."

Tony's breath caught. He had a few choice words for the All-Daddy. Asgard was so fucked up it wasn't event funny. How could they have ever allowed this?

"I.... don't regret it," Loki continued. "I... In all honesty, I wish the stories were right, that I enjoyed it. But even if that experience was horrible for me, it also gave me Sleipnir. That is the only thing that matters now."

Tony thought he could understand where Loki was coming from, up to a point. He regretted Afghanistan a lot—the reactor, Yinsen's death, all the things he had lost. But it had given him Iron Man, and it had turned him into more than just the Merchant of Death. In fact, if not for that, Tony might not have ever met Loki and Sleipnir.

It wasn't even remotely the same, but yeah, he understood how sometimes, you could be conflicted about bad things that happened to you. Terrible privileges, terrible stories—but with an end result that was worth the pain.

He couldn't promise everything would be okay. That sort of thing stayed with you, and even if Loki's scars weren't visible, they would always be there, deep inside him.

But he could say one thing. "Yeah. And you're here now, with me. We'll make it work, the three of us." Well, four, since there was JARVIS to think about... or maybe six, if he included the bots. Eh, semantics.

Loki's reply was barely audible, but there. "Yes. I believe we will. We have to."

Chapter Text

 Sleipnir refused to come out of his room. He refused to shift. He refused to do anything except lay in his bed and stare at the wall.

They'd tried countless things to draw his attention. Anthony had offered to show them his sanctum—and when that hadn't worked—he'd showered Sleipnir with presents, everything carefully vetted by Loki.

JARVIS tried to tell Sleipnir stories of Midgard. He offered games and secrets and knowledge, but still Sleipnir refused.

Loki was desperate.

Two days after the incident, Loki knocked at his son's door and gently pushed it open with his foot. "Breakfast, my darling."

"I'm not hungry," Sleipnir mumbled, turning his back to Loki.

Loki set the tray down on the table and sat on the edge of Sleipnir's bed. The room hadn't come equipped with child furniture or decorations, but Anthony's efforts in the past few days had filled it with all sorts of toys, books and colorful imagery.

"Sleipnir, you must eat. I beg you. Anthony and I are incredibly concerned."

Slowly, Sleipnir turned toward him. "Mama? Why do you do it? Why do you hide?"

Loki felt like he'd been struck. He swallowed around the knot in his throat. He supposed he wasn't truly surprised Sleipnir had asked, but that didn't necessarily make it easy to handle. How could he say this?

"I... It is hard to explain, my darling." Sleipnir was giving him a pleading look, so Loki tried, for his son's benefit. "You know that for beings of seidr such as us, our sense of identity is very important. Finding out I was Jotnar... It was very difficult. But... In my heart, I do not feel Jotnar."

"Are you ashamed of it?" Sleipnir asked quietly.

Loki clenched and unclenched his fists, and narrowly managed not to scream. Had he done this? Had he made his son feel like there was something intrinsically wrong about being who he was, about accepting his own self?

In response, Loki let his shape change. His skin turned blue, the air around him growing uncomfortably hot. "I am not ashamed. But I do not feel like my skin is what I am. I like to think that I do not have to be anything I don't choose to be. I do not have to be Jotnar or Aesir. I can just be... myself." Not Loki of Asgard. Just Loki. Not Loptr of Jotunheimr. Just Loptr. Not Odinson, or Laufeyson. Just Sleipnir's mother.

Loki cupped his son's soft cheek. "I am sorry, my darling. I know that things have not been perfect. I did not always know how to do what was best for you. But you must listen to me... There is nothing wrong with you. You are yourself, and you are beautiful."

Sleipnir seemed to muse over his words. "Even if... What I am..."

Weirdly, it was JARVIS who spoke next. "I do not wish to interrupt," JARVIS offered, "but perhaps I could offer some input. I do not have a body. I am meant to be a machine. To most people, that is the only thing I will ever be. But Sir has given me freedom, to choose what I am, to learn.

"My main core does not process concepts as a flesh and bone being does. But that doesn't mean I cannot choose to feel."

Sleipnir's eyes widened. "Choose... You are right. I can choose. I can be myself."

Loki pulled his son into his arms, grateful his Jotnar skin didn't burn Sleipnir. "Whatever you want to be is fine, my darling. We will all understand."

Sleipnir buried his face in Loki's chest and wept. It was a long while later that he finally fell asleep. He still had not eaten.

When Loki left his son's room, he knew he had another incredibly difficult conversation to handle. He found Anthony in the living room. His head was buried in his hands, and he was obviously distraught. He did not know what to do.

"I told Jay to shut down the mansion for now," he said without looking at Loki. "Maybe give Sleipy some time without other people bursting in."

"That was a good idea, Anthony." When the mortal still did not move, Loki said, "Anthony, look at me."

Anthony did, and instantly, his eyes widened. "Lo... Don't know how to tell you this, but you're blue. And by that, I mean... Literally blue."

Loki braced himself for the unavoidable explosion. Midgardians had every reason to hate Jotnar. After all, Jotnar had come to this land and for all accounts, tried to enslave its people.

"This is, in a way, my true form, the form I was born in. I am not actually Aesir. I am a Jotun, a Frost Giant."

"You're tiny... for a Giant."

Loki laughed. Trust Anthony to say something like that at such a moment. But Anthony also noticed the matter was more serious than Loki wanted it to seem. "So is this in any way connected to Sleipy? What's going on?"

He did not seem afraid. In fact, he did not seem to consider Loki monstrous. Perhaps he did not know the story—he had said before that he hadn't paid much attention to Norse myths.

But Loki owed it to him to tell Anthony everything. And perhaps, he owed it to himself and to Sleipnir to stop hiding and fully understand this shape.

"Anthony, the Jotnar are widely considered to be monsters among the nine realms. A thousand years ago, they invaded Midgard and attempted to take over."

"Well, I think you look kind of hot... Although, that's probably a bad word." Anthony tentatively approached and peered closer to Loki's skin. "Are you seriously emanating cold, because that's kind of awesome."

"It is the way of the Jotnar. Frost Giant. And yes, it is somewhat connected to Sleipnir." How could it not be?

"You see, Anthony, I grew up thinking I was the child of the All-Father and his queen, brother of Thor. I still believed this, even as I fled Asgard with Sleipnir. There was a glamor on me, one that at the time, I was not aware of."

"So what happened?"

"I..." Loki's breath caught. "I lost Sleipnir. You see, Anthony, Sleipnir is an amazing child, and his seidr incredibly potent. You have seen his hooves, yes? Their color is reminiscent of the Bifrost. He can effortlessly transport himself from realm to realm, although he does not yet have the fine control to always end up in the right location.

"When Sleipnir was very young, he was a restless child. We were in Alfheim one day, playing. Everything seemed perfectly fine. And then, he just... disappeared. Understand, Anthony, I have countless wards on him, spells of protection, locator spells. I should know where he is at all times. But I could not feel him.

"I was desperate. I sought him out everywhere, scoured Alfheim, then went to other realms—Vanaheim, Midgard, even Asgard, and then Jotunheim and Muspelheim, the lands of the giants. I did not wish to think he was there—Jotnar are the long-time enemies of the Aesir, and things had only grown worse after the incident with the wall. I feared that they would hurt him, or use him somehow if they found out whose son he was.

"And still, I did not find him. I was so fearful that I was ready to run to the All-Father, to beg for his help. He sees many things from his throne."

"I take it you didn't go?"

Loki shook his head. "I didn't have to. Just before I could leave, Hel appeared in front of me. She is the Queen of Helheim, the realm of the dead, and she told me she had found my son. Predictably, I interpreted this by assuming my child was dead.

"I begged her, pleaded her to return him, to take me instead. She simply said that would not be necessary and offered me her hand." He could still remember it, her cloaked figure, and the two hands—one of flesh and one of bone. It was the flesh one Loki had touched, but he had never forgotten. Because when he had touched her... He still did not fully understand what he had felt, but somehow, he had not been as frightened as he should have been."I took it, of course. Without Sleipnir, there was nothing for me. And I thought that perhaps I could still save him, make a deal. I am very good at deals, even if often times, they tend to backfire." And Hel had seemed to like him, in her own way.

"But the thing is, Anthony, you cannot hide from Death. We are all the same in front of it, you see. Masks and lies... They are irrelevant. Hel sees you for what you are. And when she touched me, my glamor faded and my skin turned blue." He stared at his arm. "Like this."

"It didn't go well," Anthony guessed correctly.

"I believed she had cursed me. After all, what other option could there be? I deemed myself Aesir. But once she took me to her realm, she told me the truth. She was perhaps, the first one to do so in my long life. I owe her much.

"Of course, she brought me to Sleipnir first. As it turned out, he'd accidentally used his seidr, and the burst had brought him to Helheim, and Hel's brother Fenrir. It had taken some time for Hel to find me since I had been traveling so quickly throughout the realms in search of my son, and further she is not supposed to interfere in matters involving the living. But Sleipnir was completely fine and not even aware that he'd done anything wrong."

Tony groaned. "Oh, dear God, I can totally see that happening."

"Indeed. I was too relieved to chastise him. But Hel was not done. She revealed to me that in the wake of the war with the Frost Giants, the All-Father—who was the one to stop their advance on Midgard—took their greatest treasures. Not only their relic, the Casket of Ancient Winters, but also the son of their king. A young boy named Loptr. Me.

"I did not want to accept it, but I knew Hel did not lie. She is Queen of the Dead—and her realm does not stand for such things.

"For some reason, she took us in. I still do not know why, but she sheltered us. We stayed there for a while, and we probably would have stayed longer, but the energies of the dead are not conducive to the growth of the child so we were eventually forced to depart."

"So what about your blue? What happened with that?"

"Therein lies the problem. I am a shape-shifter, Anthony, and in my heart, I do not feel Jotnar. Normally, this would not be an issue, but my son... He is not quite certain where he belongs either. He is a shape-shifter, yes, but that is not the only thing he is. Sleipnir is literally half-horse. Biologically speaking, there is no way around that. It is only because of my magic that he turned out the way he did."

And Loki had done his best to help him through the issues that came with that, but he could accept now that he hadn't fully been over the rape, and learning his Frost Giant legacy.

"I fear that in my zeal to protect him, I might have taught him to hate himself," he continued. "It is why I eventually decided to tell him the truth about his birth, because he needed to understand. I could not keep it a secret, because in truth, I was making the same mistake Odin did for me. But that doesn't mean it is easy for him."

"Yeah, I get that. I wish I could help more, but... Well, the only thing I can remotely connect to your situation is this glowy circle in my chest, and that's really nowhere near what you're saying."

"JARVIS has been helpful, I think."

"I try." JARVIS paused, and then suddenly said, "Sir, you have a call. Colonel Rhodes."

Anthony groaned. "Turn him away, JARV. I'm busy. The house is closed. Just tell him I'll call him later, see him somewhere. Whatever."

"Colonel Rhodes is your friend Rhodey?" Loki guessed.

"Yeah. We were best friends for a long time, but at one point..." Anthony passed a hand through his hair. "After I got back from Afghanistan, I felt he was disappointed in me. I mean, I was trying to do the right thing, clean up my act, but he hated it. He has his reasons of course, but I just can't handle it right now."

"I see." Anthony had so few people who were close to him, and it must have been a blow for this... Rhodey to turn him away. "You do need to talk to him. He must be concerned."

Anthony shrugged. "Sleipy is more important now. But I'll call him later. He's liable to burst in through the mansion gates, and that's the last thing I want." Something changed on Anthony's face. "Hey, you turned back. You're not blue anymore."

Loki stared at his hands. Anthony was right. "It is not a glamor anymore," he explained. "The All-Father's spell is long gone. I have to consciously will the Frost Giant skin to the surface. And when I forget about it, I turn back to this form."

"If that's what you're happy with, Lo, it's fine. But it's okay to be a Frost Giant too. You're beautiful. In every way. And so is Sleipy."

Loki let his eyes drift closed and leaned against his mortal. "Thank you, Anthony. That means a lot."

And it did, probably more than his mortal would ever know.

Chapter Text

Colonel James Rhodes had mixed feelings about Tony Stark. He considered Tony a friend. They'd known each other and worked together for a long time. Rhodey still remembered the kid Tony had been at MIT, cocky and brash, but a prodigy, completely brilliant to an almost humbling extent.

In truth, Tony had not changed much in adulthood. He was just as eccentric, just as brilliant, and only followed his own rules. Rhodey knew a lot of it had to do with Tony's history with his father—things Tony only ever talked about when he was very, very drunk. At the end of the day, Tony could be relied on to be... himself. And one thing was certain, life was never boring around Tony Stark.

All that changed after Afghanistan. Rhodey had blamed himself for the kidnapping. He'd told himself that if he'd been more careful, if he hadn't let Tony's comment about the 'fun-vee' get to him, he might have been there for Tony.

At some level, he knew that one person wouldn't have really made a difference against the Ten Rings—but try telling that to his heart.

His relief upon finding Tony had been almost mind-numbing. And then, the first thing Tony did upon returning—after eating a hamburger—was to shut down the Stark Industries weapons division.

Rhodey considered Tony a friend, but even he had to draw the line at some of Tony's crazier ideas. And that was completely and utterly irresponsible.

The government relied on the weapons Tony made. People Rhodey served with felt better when supported by Stark tech. And Tony just wanted to throw all that out the window? No, Rhodey couldn't accept that.

The suit had definitely been a surprise. Rhodey supposed he should have expected Tony would have something on the back burner. But between Rhodey's own frustration and Tony's stubbornness, they didn't get to discuss it too much. And then the whole thing with Stane had blown up in their faces, and well... It snowballed into an even bigger mess than Afghanistan.

Rhodey wanted to go see his friend after learning he'd survived the confrontation with Stane and was already back in Malibu. But Tony had called him that night, thanked him for keeping the skies clear, and told him to be a little patient, because he had some important stuff he absolutely needed to do.

And Rhodey thought that Tony was perhaps dealing with the aftermath of Stane's treachery—of course Tony would take that hard—until a report landed on his desk. Apparently, a mysterious individual called Loptr and his child, Sleipnir, had taken up residence in Tony's mansion. At this time, very little was known about them other than that they seemed to be of alien origin. And Tony had been throwing his weight around, keeping them safe and out of government hands.

It was quite frankly alarming, and Rhodey thought he'd been patient enough. He called Tony.

JARVIS was the one to answer. Rhodey had always admired Tony's inventions, but he had to admit that sometimes, the leeway JARVIS had in affecting Tony's life unnerved him.

"Hello, JARVIS," he said, keeping his voice level. "Can I talk to Tony?"

"Sir is not available at the moment. Can I take a message?"

"Actually, yes. Tell him I'll drop by later today."

A small pause, and then JARVIS said, "I'm afraid that won't be possible, Colonel Rhodes. There are certain complications that make the mansion inaccessible at this time."

Inaccessible? What? Since when?

"Is Tony okay?"

"Sir is unharmed. I will have him contact you later on and perhaps establish a meeting."

"Thanks, JARVIS," Rhodey muttered, feeling a bit numb. He hung up and called Pepper. "What do you know about this, Pepper?" he asked without preamble.

"Tony's fine," Pepper assured him. "I talked to him this morning. He just said there was... an incident, and Sleipnir is upset, so he'd rather not have guests right now."

"Sleipnir," Rhodey repeated. "That's..."

Pepper let out a breath. "Come on, Rhodey. I'm not an idiot. I'm sure by now you know all about them."

Yeah, okay, he'd walked right into that one. "I'm sorry, but this is a lot to take in. So, you've seen them, talked to them?"

"Very briefly," Pepper replied. "I drove them to Malibu, but they were pretty quiet. But JARVIS seems to like them, and he's always had Tony's best interests at heart. For the moment, I don't think they're a threat."

Yeah, Rhodey wasn't so sure about that. He also didn't know what to make of Tony's demeanor when the man finally called.

Tony seemed distracted, subdued, a million miles away. That wasn't really strange—Tony zoned out all the time when he had an idea, a new project, something he was passionate about. But the moment Rhodey mentioned a possible visit, Tony seemed to snap up on attention like a soldier at a superior's inspection.

"I thought Jay explained? Can't really do that right now. But I can drop by the base later on. We haven't spoken since Stane, so yeah... It'll be nice to see you."

Rhodey didn't want to push Tony, especially not on the phone. "That sounds fine. Drop by anytime."

Tony came over the next day. He was his usual self, hair expertly styled, sunglasses shielding his eyes, far too expensive car as his annex. Maybe Rhodey had been worried about nothing.

"So what's up? What are you working on now?"

"The armor, mostly," Tony replied. "Been thinking on some upgrades on the house, especially since Stane."

Rhodey supposed that made sense. The fact that Stane had attacked and almost killed Tony in his own home was unacceptable. Still, something made him ask, "JARVIS?"

Tony shrugged. "Maybe. He already handles a lot of my stuff. We'll see how it goes. I still have to clean up Stane's mess, and I'm not sure how much time I'll have."

"So I take it you're not going back to producing weaponry?"

"Nah. I'm done with that. Stark Industries is so much more than weapons. I think I've destroyed enough. Time to build."

"Build what, Tony?"

"A new life." Tony's expression was distant. "A new beginning. Hopefully."

"I don't suppose your new friends also have something to do with that."

He couldn't help but sound sarcastic, and it was a mistake. Tony narrowed his eyes at him. "Maybe. It all depends on what we decide, where we go from here."

"We? Tony, who is we?" Rhodey very much doubted Tony was referring to himself and Pepper, or himself and Rhodey.

Tony let out a heavy sigh. "What is this all about, Rhodey? Did your bosses tell you I'm harboring an alien terrorist or something?"

Not exactly, but close enough. Rhodey didn't say it out loud, but he didn't have to. Tony scoffed. "They're not something you need to worry about. They're my business."

"Can't say I agree with you there." Rhodey scowled. "Tony, you can't just hide ET in your bedroom."

"Actually, they both have their own bedrooms." Tony smirked. "Not that I'd mind if Lo shared mine."

"Tony! This isn't a game!"

"Of course it is." Tony took off his glasses and pinned him with a fierce look. "Everything is a game. You just don't want to see it. We're all pieces, Rhodes, on a big board of chess. And I'm fucking tired of being a pawn."

The idea of Tony Stark being anything remotely like a pawn was laughable, but after Stane, Rhodey could definitely see why Tony thought that way. "That isn't what I meant."

"Sure it wasn't. Look, Rhodey. You're my friend. I've known you a long time, so I'm telling you. Back off Lo and Sleipnir. They're not not little green men with apocalyptic weapons that are going to blow up the White House. They're just people."

"You've known them for a handful of days. How can you possibly be sure of that?"

Tony shrugged. "I just am."

Anger swelled inside Rhodey, mixed with a cold feeling of dread. "That's not an answer, Tony."

"It's the only one I have." Tony slid his glasses back on. "See you, Rhodes. Gotta go. I think I might drop by SI while I'm in town."

Rhodey watched him swagger off, and before he was out of earshot, he called out, "What about the armor?"

Tony didn't look at him. He just kept walking. "What about it?"

Just like that, Rhodey knew his superiors had been right to be worried. This could easily become a problem. Unfortunately, Rhodey had no idea how to handle it.

Worse, he didn't think anyone did.

****

Slowly, with Anthony and JARVIS's help, Sleipnir started to come out of his shell. Anthony made it his business to tell him every single day that he was amazing, that he was beautiful, that he was loved.

For Loki, it had been very difficult to make his peace with his Frost Giant legacy, but he had done it because of Sleipnir and Hel. Sleipnir had had Loki's support, but also JARVIS's experience and Anthony's affection.

On the fourth day, Sleipnir finally accepted Anthony's offer to see his workshop. He seemed a little wary, but he changed his mind instantly when the door to Anthony's sanctum slid aside to let them in.

It was chaos made art. Loki had no other way of describing it. Midgardian music echoed through the room, so loud it almost made the walls vibrate. One part of the workshop was reserved for Anthony's cars, beautiful and sleek, waiting to be used. But it was the rest that hypnotized Loki. The workshop held a complex array of haphazard parts strewn everywhere the eye could see. Further back, there was a display case with two Iron Man suits, one silver, the other red and gold—the suit Anthony had used in the battle with Stane.

Several metallic surfaces held what Loki guessed must be pieces of a new suit. Others were lit up with controls, and screens appeared out of nowhere, displaying data upon their master's command. An illusion of the Iron Man armor shone in the center of Anthony's workspace.

And in the midst of it all stood Anthony, manipulating the illusions with a mastery that rivaled Loki's.

If not for his son's presence, Loki would have pounced on the mortal and had him right then and there.

The music shut down when Loki and Sleipnir entered the room—JARVIS's doing no doubt. It drew Anthony's attention from his work. The mortal smiled brightly when he saw them. "Hey. You guys made it. Nice."

"Indeed, Anthony," Loki replied. "Thank you for inviting us into your sanctum."

Anthony snickered. "Sanctum. I like that word. Here that, Jay? This here is my sanctum."

"I see, Sir," came JARVIS's reply. "Would you like a label?"

Anthony pouted. "The sass. You're killing me with the sass, JARV." Waving wildly, he gestured for Loki and Sleipnir to approach. "So anyway, this is where all the magic happens."

Sleipnir looked fascinated. He joined Tony and poked the illusion of the armor. It spun, a little out of control, since Sleipnir wasn't yet used to manipulating such delicate spells. "This is wonderful, Sir Anthony. But how? I did not feel any seidr on you."

"It's not actually magic. That was more like a figure of speech. It's science, stuff that I invented and put together here with JARV." He approached Sleipnir and bent over him, his hands gently gripping Sleipnir's wrists as he showed the child how to move the illusions. "They're holographic displays," he explained. "They are actually projected through a mix of JARVIS and sensors I had installed."

"And the image?" Sleipnir inquired. "It is your... armor, correct?"

"Yah, kid. The old suit wasn't too damaged after the confrontation with Stane, so I had it fixed, but I also had a few new ideas to improve on it, so these are plans for the next version. Iron Man MARK IV. And don't worry. You can play around with it as much as you like. JARV saves my progress automatically."

Through the corner of his eye, Loki caught sight of something moving. His senses instantly stood on alert, although he had not felt any danger before. Anthony made a sound, like he'd just remembered something.

"Right. Come here for a moment, Sleipy, Lo. And you guys too. Yes, U. Stop being shy. Come on out."

Two metallic creatures emerged from the shadows. They looked like machines of sorts, moving on wheels, but they also had a... demeanor, a certain feel in their approach. They were beings, like JARVIS.

Sleipnir was immediately drawn to them. "Who are they?"

"These guys here are my bots. Their names are DUM-E and U." Anthony wiggled a finger at the 'bots'. "Come on, come to daddy. I want you to meet Sleipnir and Lo. They'll be staying with us."

At first, the bots were, indeed, shy, but Sleipnir's fascination with them seemed contagious, and they started a strange game only the three of them understood. At one point, Sleipnir even shifted—which almost had Loki in tears with relief since his son had refused to change shapes for so long.

"They are lovely creations, Anthony."

"Thanks. DUM-E is actually my first AI. I made him when I was still in MIT. U is more recent. They're both meant to be helper bots, and have learning modules like Jay does. Three quarter of the time they're completely useless buckets of bolts, but believe it or not, DUM-E saved my life."

Loki blinked, scanning the machines with renewed interest. "Truly?"

"Yeah. Stane had taken this thing out so I was basically minutes away from having a heart attack." Anthony tapped his fingers on the casing of the reactor. "I had the old reactor here—I had built it in Afghanistan—Pep made me a... thing with it. Anyway, I couldn't reach it in time, so DUM-E gave me a hand."

Anthony was so vibrant and full of life that Loki sometimes forgot how close he'd come to dying mere days ago. "Your children are beautiful, Anthony," he said. "Thank you for introducing them to us. It looks like they're getting along with Sleipnir."

Disastrously, that was true. The game between Sleipnir, DUM-E and U soon devolved into something that made liberal use of an item Anthony called 'fire extinguisher'. Soon, there was bright white foam everywhere. Several metallic tables had been shoved aside, and it was only through Loki's magic that they hadn't completely fallen over.

But Sleipnir was smiling still, and Tony didn't seem to be upset. "Okay, so new rule. Jay, red alert if these guys are ever alone without someone to supervise and mitigate the damage."

"Of course, Sir. And may I congratulate you on a wise decision."

Anthony snorted. "You say that like I'm not always wise."

JARVIS's silence was telling, and it made Sleipnir and Loki both snicker. "Traitors!" Anthony exclaimed. "All of you..."

When they stopped laughing, Anthony approached Loki again. "So, listen, Lo... I know it's been a rough couple of days, but I've been thinking. I talked to Jay, and if you want... We can start with the spell you said. Removing the shrapnel."

"Really?" Sleipnir bounced on his heels. "You agree?"

"Yeah." Anthony ruffled Sleipnir's hair. "Have a lot to live for, after all. And Jay made some good points. I admit I'm still not very sure how your mojo works, but I trust you."

It was probably exceedingly difficult for a man like Anthony to trust something he didn't understand. "I could teach you," Loki offered. "At least the basis of it."

Anthony perked up so quickly he reminded Loki of Sleipnir on Yule. "Seriously? I could do magic?"

"I am not certain," Loki admitted. "Seidr comes from deep inside, a core of energy hidden within the center of one's being. For Sleipnir and I, it is very expansive. As a rule, such heavy use of magic is incompatible with a Midgardian's mortality. There are exceptions, but in my long life, I have only heard of a few. That being said, many mortals do have some degree of skill, although more often than not, it is latent. I'm afraid I cannot tell with you, since your reactor clouds my eye."

"But you can tell with other people?" Anthony sounded incredibly curious.

"Indeed. Ms. Potts has some potential, but it is quite slight and will likely never be awakened." Unless something drastic happened, and Loki didn't wish that on anyone. "Agent Coulson is interestingly gifted, although his power is quite discreet, not the type that could physically manifest. As far as I could tell from our brief exchange, Stane had no seidr."

"Huh. Imagine that. Now I really want to know if I have magic."

"I would be surprised if you did not," Loki admitted. "You must realize it. What you have created... JARVIS, your bots.. They are not mere constructs. They are life. And that, Anthony, is something more remarkable than I think you realize."

Loki didn't know if Anthony had grasped that about his creations, but he shouldn't have doubted his mortal. Anthony smiled fondly in the direction of DUM-E, U, and Sleipnir. "I'm just a guy who's good with his hands. I can't take all the credit for Jay and the bots."

"Modesty doesn't suit you, Sir," JARVIS piped up. "You are our creator, and we love you. Deal with it."

Anthony looked like JARVIS had delivered a particularly hard blow to his head, but JARVIS was not taken aback. "Master Loptr, you can proceed with the first part of your spell. You'll find that getting Sir to stand still is not the easiest task, so it is better to strike when he is distracted."

Loki laughed, but complied. With JARVIS, Sleipnir and the bots watching over them, he started the long process of healing the Man of Iron's wounded heart.

Chapter Text

Loki fixed the lapel of Anthony's jacket, absently using a hint of seidr to smooth the material. He had already healed all of Anthony's injuries, thank goodness, but Anthony had a way of making a mess of himself even before an important press conference. If not for the Lady Pepper, he would have probably forgotten about it altogether.

The Son of Coul hovered next to Anthony's shoulder, under Sleipnir's watchful eye. He passed Anthony some papers—or at least tried to—Anthony didn't like to have things handed to him, so Loki took them and gave them to Anthony instead.

The Son of Coul cleared his throat. "Here's your alibi. You were on your yacht. We have port papers that put you in Avalon all night, and sworn statements from fifty of your guests."

Of course they did. SHIELD was nothing if not resourceful, and Loki knew all about the value of a well-constructed illusion. Still, even the best lie could have flaws, and this one had glaring ones. "And Stane? He won't say anything about Anthony fighting him that night?"

"It's not in his best interest to," the Son of Coul replied. "He is already in enough trouble as it is."

Anthony grimaced. He wasn't entirely pleased with the plan, not that Loki could blame him. Loki suspected that he'd only agreed because they'd already delayed the conference as much as possible, for reasons largely related to Loki and Sleipnir (and SHIELD's interest in them.)

"That's what happened," the Son of Coul insisted. "Just read it word for word."

Anthony scowled, and something flashed in his eyes. "Wait... So does that he mean he won't be prosecuted for the people in those cars he threw around like Lego pieces? Yeah, that doesn't work for me. He attacked Lo and Sleipnir. He killed a lot of people there."

"And what of the attempt on Anthony's life?" Loki intervened. "Won't that be acknowledged either?"

It made sense. Stane needed incentive to keep quiet about Iron Man, as well as Loki and Sleipnir. And Loki suspected Stane could prove to be useful for SHIELD, especially if Anthony turned out to be a threat due to his decision to protect Loki and Sleipnir.

"Mr. Stark, this is not the first time SHIELD handles such matters," the Son of Coul said. "Please trust us to do our job."

Loki knew exactly how that worked. He'd covered up countless of Asgard's mistakes. He'd shielded Thor from his own stupidity more times than he could count. He was Liesmith.

But someone always paid the price, and in his case, it had been Loki himself. He didn't know what the weight of the lie could do this time around.

"Lo? What do you think?"

Loki couldn't make this decision for Anthony. He'd already affected Anthony's life enough. "I think you should follow your heart. I trust your judgment."

The Son of Coul opened his mouth, clearly intending to say something, but the Lady Pepper came in before he could do so. "They're ready for you, Tony. Ninety seconds."

Loki found that he liked the Lady Pepper. It wasn't hard to tell that she had feelings for Anthony, but she was also incredibly loyal to him, to the point that she had welcomed Loki and Sleipnir despite her reservations. She had been magnificent at controlling the aftermath of the incident in Los Angeles—although it had helped that Loki's intervention had kept damage to a minimum. He suspected that if he hadn't wiggled his way into Anthony's life, she would be the one standing next to Anthony, supporting him now.

Perhaps in some ways, she might be his rival, but nevertheless, she was an excellent chatelaine for Anthony's empire.

She smiled at them now, and it was only slightly strained. "I take it you won't make an appearance," she said to Loki.

"No. Sleipnir and I will stay out of sight. It is better for Anthony to handle one matter at a time."

Sleipnir hugged Anthony and then took Loki's hand. "I'm certain you will do just fine."

"Thanks, Sleipy." Tony grinned, bright and sharp, the smile of a man who was heading into a battle and he knew it. "Okay. Let's get this show on the road."

Loki and Sleipnir followed closely behind Anthony and Pepper, but chose to put a glamor on, since he didn't want to draw any attention. Anthony's friend the Son of Rhodes—who seemed to dislike Loki quite a lot, but that wasn't anything new—announced his arrival.

Most of the reporters seemed to welcome him, save for a blonde lady sitting in the front. She was, in fact, the one who gave Anthony the opening he needed, when she displayed her skepticism with the official story that had so far been spread throughout the press.

And then Anthony said, "I am Iron Man," and Loki and Sleipnir both laughed, embracing the chaos their mortal unleashed.

"I like him, Mama," Sleipnir said.

"I like him too, darling. Very much." Very much indeed.

****

Two years later

"I hereby appoint you chairman and CEO of Stark Industries, effective immediately."

Pepper stared at him, seemingly well and truly speechless—a performance giving everything he'd put her through during her stint as his PA. "Have you been drinking?"

"Nutrient shakes." Tony didn't elaborate on the fact that they'd been provided by Loki to help stabilize and heal his body as he went through with the shrapnel removal process. Loki had made it clear that some of the things he used were of alien origin, but he'd also had JARVIS analyze every part of it before having Tony drink it. Still, Pepper wouldn't be happy if she heard about it. Better to play it close to the vest.

"Tony... I don't know what to say."

"Just say yes. Pepper, I mean it."

Pepper looked overwhelmed. "But, Tony... Why?"

There were a lot of things Tony could have said. The practical reason and most basic fact was his health.

Tony hadn't felt so well in a long time. Even before Afghanistan, he'd had a history of substance abuse. In truth, when he and JARVIS had first discussed the option of using Loki's mojo, JARVIS's estimates of Tony's life-expectancy—delivered in a voice that still broke Tony's heart when he remembered it—had probably been optimistic.

But under Loki's efforts, he was healing—and not just because of the magic and the wacky potions. He was... happy. Seeing Sleipy prance around in shifted form—under careful watch because the last thing they needed was an adventurous tourist or a SHIELD spy to catch sight of that—always made him go warm and gooey on the inside. Hearing Loki and Sleipnir laugh together was a tiny miracle that made Tony feel like less of a fuck up. And watching JARVIS tutor Sleipnir, teach him the basics of human culture—the alphabet, basic social mores, geography—was plainly put, a gift. The Malibu house seemed more of a home every day.

Two years had passed since their fateful meeting, and he and Loki hadn't had sex. They hadn't even kissed. They held hands sometimes, and Tony couldn't deny he didn't feel sexual frustration. But he was still happy.

Loki and Sleipy had been through so much, but for some reason, they'd chosen to put their faith in Tony. Sleipy actively sought him out when he was feeling down. He seemed to blossom under Tony's attention and love. And just the fact that Loki trusted Tony with his beloved child meant more that all the money in Tony's accounts.

He had briefly considered throwing a big Stark Expo this year, to show Loki and Sleipy the glitz and glam of the Midgardians. It hadn't been difficult for Loki to dissuade him. What they had together was special, more than enough. Besides, Loki and Sleipy were still in hiding.

And of course, there was the Iron Man suit. Tony had not forgotten about Gulmira and other places like it. He was still hunting down all the weapons Stane had illegally sold. He liked to call his little operation 'privatizing world peace'. Loki tsked over him when he came back, green and silver armor singed from the fire of explosions, but he also smiled, healed Tony and didn't try to keep him from his next mission.

The Iron Man suit formed part of his backup plan too. He'd built a lot of armors—often when Loki worked with JARVIS to tutor Sleipnir. But between all those things, he'd had little time for Stark Industries.

And here was where Pepper came in. Soon, Loki would be finished with removing the shrapnel. The arc reactor removal was next, and rebuilding Tony's chest—which was a little hard to even think about, quite frankly. For obvious reasons, Tony wouldn't be able to do much while Loki did that, so the company would be the last thing on his mind.

If it all went as Tony hoped, he would finally be free of this Damocles' Sword hanging over his head. But even so, Tony knew he was mortal. The time he would have with Loki and Sleipy was the blink of an eye for a god. He couldn't waste it.

Don't waste your life, Yinsen had said. Tony had no intention to. And Pepper was the perfect choice. Unlike him, she wanted this. She excelled at it. She had been doing it forever. And really, she was the only one—other than Jay and the bots, of course—who had done her best to understand what Tony had found with Loki and Sleipnir. Tony hadn't spoken to Rhodey in months.

"Here's the thing. First of, you deserve this, Pep. You put more time and effort into SI than I ever have. But beyond that, I physically need you to do this. Senator Stern is still riding my ass about the suit... That's not going to stop anytime soon, but neither am I. And now... Well, I have Lo and Sleipnir. I want to spend more time with them."

Before Pepper could reply to that, the door of the lab beeped, and Loki and Sleipnir slid inside. Well, Loki slid—Sleipnir sort of jumped-pounced. He was still coltish even when he was in human form.

"Lady Pepper," Loki said. "JARVIS mentioned you'd arrived. I trust I'm not interrupting a private conversation?"

"Nope. I just asked Pepper to be my CEO. She hasn't answered me yet, though."

Pepper blinked, apparently shaking herself out of her trance. "I'm just... I'm incredibly shocked. I didn't expect this."

"Why not?" Loki actually sounded confused. "Lady Pepper, truly, you are the most competent chatelaine I've ever met."

Sleipnir nodded. "Mother and I are very grateful for you taking care of Sir Anthony before we got here."

"I try," Pepper said. "He never listened to me like he does to you."

Loki laughed. "Well, we each have our own gifts. Mine just happens to be a very persuasive child."

Tony had the feeling there were two conversations going on here, but Loki always did like to talk in riddles. If the myths had gotten something right, it was the part of him being a Silver Tongue.

"So, anyway," he piped up, "what do you say?"

Pepper laughed lightly. "Of course, Tony. I'd be honored."

"Excellent." Loki made an elaborate gesture, and a bottle of champagne manifested, followed by three glasses. With another wave, Loki opened the bottle and poured its contents into the glasses. "I think this calls for a little celebration."

Sleipnir pouted until Loki provided something else, a drink that looked like the chlorophyl shakes Sleipnir enjoyed. (As it turned out, the shakes were the reason Loki had been interested in the blender that first day. He could do them through magic, but he was also fascinated by Midgardian science).

Pepper stayed for a while longer, discussing some legal technicalities Tony wasn't really paying attention to. He'd already had JARVIS study the potential consequences, and as it turned out, he was legally allowed to choose his successor. Tony trusted Pepper with his company, and that was the only thing that mattered.

When Pepper left, Loki decided to see her out. Sleipnir had already wandered off somewhere—he was always under JARVIS's close watch so Tony wasn't too concerned.

Tony was actually planning to look over his recent designs for the armor when it occurred to him it was weird that Loki had left with Pepper. The two of them had a truce of sorts, but more often than not, the conversations were tense and full of double meaning, kind of like the earlier exchange.

After a few moments of hesitation, Tony slid out of the lab. No sooner had the door opened than he heard Pepper's voice.

"I actually thought you'd have a problem with this," Pepper said.

"Why would I, Lady Potts?" Loki sounded bemused. "I have no interest in Stark Industries."

There was a long pause, and then Pepper asked, "Not even for your son? Technically speaking, we could still insert a proviso to allow Sleipnir to take over once he is of legal age."

Loki burst into laughter. "Lady Pepper... I realize you do not trust me, and I do not blame you for it." His tone shifted, turning low, almost dangerous. "But the company is truly irrelevant for me. I already have what I want."

"Tony," Pepper whispered.

Loki didn't reply, but his silence was as much of a confirmation as was needed.

"Please don't hurt him," Pepper finally said.

"Hurt him?" Loki huffed in a mix of outrage and humor. "I am physically unable to do thus. I have sworn a vow to the one person who is closest to him, and for a being such as I, that vow is binding. And even if I had not done so, I would never dream of hurting him." His voice softened slightly. "Lady Pepper, I realize this might be hard for you to believe, but I am truly not a difficult man to understand. For lack of a better descriptor, I am what you might call a single mother, and I have finally found a home for myself and my child, with a man who is worthy of our affections. It is truly as easy as that."

"All right." Pepper was back to her no-nonsense, 'don't mess with me' tone. "I'll believe you for now, if only because JARVIS seems to like you."

"Thank you, Lady Pepper. And congratulations."

At last, Tony heard the clack of Pepper's heels, and then the sound of her departure. Once she was gone, Tony slid out of his hiding spot.

Loki didn't seem surprised at seeing him, which was why Tony hadn't even bothered to hide that he'd been eavesdropping.

"What was that all about?" Tony asked.

"She has... feelings for you," Loki answered. "I believe she might not have truly realized it before Sleipnir and I came into the picture, but now, she feels pushed aside."

Tony opened his mouth to say it wasn't like that, but quickly closed it. It was, in fact, like that. Before Loki, Pepper had been his go-to person for everything. She hadn't reacted that well to the Iron Man armor, but in the end, she'd supported him regardless. And there had definitely been a spark of attraction between them.

If Loki hadn't shown up when he had... Who knew? But now, Tony couldn't imagine doing anything differently.

He thought about Pepper, about her perfectly pressed suits and the way she always, always knew what to do. "I don't think I could have made her happy," he said at last. "It's true that opposites attract, but we're too different."

"You are chaotic, Anthony," Loki said. Suddenly, his eyes seemed to glow, green and fierce in the slight darkness. "Your chaos and your light naturally draws in people. But it is only people with the same chaos in their blood that can truly understand. So no, you could not have made her happy. But she is a great woman, and I am certain she will have a different love in her future."

And maybe that should have made him sad, but instead, it had him smiling. Loki was right. He'd made a good choice today. Pepper would be an amazing CEO, and in time, she would find a man who suited her better than Tony ever had.

And Tony? Well... Of course, Tony had his little chaotic family, and that worked for him just fine.

Chapter Text

The Lady Pepper was too practical to mourn the loss of the battle for Anthony. Loki might have claimed the heart of the king for his own, but she had won the kingdom—and that was a prize indeed.

Loki was pleased to see her already sliding into her role. He was less than pleased when, upon deciding the last of the formalities needed to be dealt with, she brought a liar into their house.

That day, Loki and Anthony had been sparring, with Sleipnir watching them and occasionally clapping. As of late, Loki had started noticing something. Anthony seemed to be getting stronger, his senses more acute. Loki had suspected it for a while now, as Anthony had started to have less trouble lifting Sleipnir in his arms. Not that he had been weak before, far from it, but Sleipnir was far heavier than he looked—he needed the extra mass to be a successful shape-shifter, especially at his age. The guess had been confirmed the day of Lady Pepper's promotion. Anthony had eavesdropped on their conversation, but he'd been further away than he realized. He should not have heard them.

Loki's magic should not have had this effect, even through prolonged exposure and the combination with the Alfheim potions. Loki's theory was that, indeed, Anthony had a magical core, and it was absorbing Loki's power and strengthening Anthony more than expected.

As such, Loki had made the executive decision to train Anthony. Anthony was a skilled boxer, but Loki had training in a great number of martial arts, as well as weapons.

Unavoidably, whenever they sparred, Anthony lost. There was a lot of whining on Anthony's part, and even some cursing—although Anthony carefully censored himself in front of Sleipnir.

Anthony was hitting the ground for the tenth time in the past fifteen minutes when the two women walked in. The Lady Pepper identified her companion as a notary. Natalie Rushman, from Legal. Loki wanted to laugh. If this woman was a mere bureaucrat, Loki would eat Anthony's arc reactor.

Aesir were not truly gods. Many of them—like Sif—titled themselves Gods of War, but that was merely a title, not something genuine. However, through long practice and mastery of certain skills, a handful of them—of seidr users, really—could reach a point where they could control and genuinely influence parts of reality just by willing it. In Thor's case, it was thunder and lightning, the spirit of the storms. Frigga's was a warmer magic, the magic of a mother.

Loki had an affinity for chaos and illusions, and through this affinity, a close connection to deception. It had given him a lot of skills—some he preferred not to use—but it also made him able to see through most every lie. Sleipnir had inherited it, up to a point, although his senses were nowhere near as finely honed as Loki's.

This meant that Loki immediately sensed the lie in Natalie Rushman. It was woven all around her, perfect and fluid, a mask he would have deemed beautiful if it hadn't been meant to deceive Anthony.

Loki helped Anthony up, and together they left the sparring ring. There were more introductions, papers exchanged, formalities discussed. Loki stayed close, watching her through the corner of his eye as he read through the document Anthony was supposed to sign.

She was good, Loki had to give her that. She stayed aloof and professional toward Anthony, but she had an intriguing demeanor that stirred Anthony's natural curiosity. When Anthony looked her up, a picture of her in a very suggestive pose appeared on the screen.

Anthony closed it, tossing a guilty glance Sleipnir's way. In the process, he noticed the way Sleipnir was glaring at the so-called Natalie.

Sleipnir was good at lies too, but sometimes, when he felt strongly enough about something, he simply couldn't hold back—like the day he'd just demanded to talk about Anthony's reactor. More often than not, these actions were born out of protectiveness. Sleipnir was definitely identifying Natalie as a threat.

Anthony finished reading the paperwork and had Loki and JARVIS sweep through them one last time. He signed with a flourish and smirked roguishly at the Lady Pepper. "Congrats, Pep," he said.

Natalie Rushman seemed to have disappeared from his radar. She left with a dispassionate goodbye which Anthony echoed.

"You could have asked her to stay," Loki commented once she was gone. "You need a new assistant now that the Lady Pepper will be CEO."

"I thought about it for about a second. But Sleipnir was glaring at her, so whatever. I'm not going to hire anyone my kid hates so much."

The air in the room seemed to freeze. Anthony called Sleipnir 'kid' all the time—which Sleipnir deemed amusing because he wasn't a kid, he was a colt. He had never called Sleipnir his kid. His child.

The way he said it was also quite eloquent. It slipped out, almost like a side-thought, something natural he didn't actively have to consider. Clearly, Anthony had been thinking this for quite some time.

Anthony's face went shockingly pale as he realized what he'd said. He looked from Loki to Sleipnir, then back to Loki. A myriad of emotions flashed through his eyes, clashing against one another like angry combatants.

Ironically, he seemed to think retreat was the approach to take in this situation. "I... Uhh... I just remembered I had something to do in the lab. I'll... I need to go."

Like a man in a dream, Anthony stumbled away. Loki himself was in too much shock to stop him. It was only when he heard the lab door open and close that he finally snapped out of it.

Sleipnir seemed in a similar state. "W-What happened?" he stammered. "Is he angry with me?"

"He is not angry with you, darling," Loki replied. "I believe... he is angry with himself."

Or perhaps that wasn't quite the best description. Anthony and Loki had been dancing around one another for a while now. Loki had not wanted to rush into things. Anthony was too important, both for Loki and for Sleipnir.

But there was always such a thing as waiting for too long.

"Sleipnir, I must go speak with Anthony. Please wait here with JARVIS."

Sleipnir nodded, his eyes still a little wide. Loki didn't bother accessing the lab normally, although he had all the necessary codes. He simply teleported inside, easily picturing the workshop in his mind's eye.

He landed just as Anthony was donning an Iron Man glove and shooting a repulsor blast. Coincidentally, Loki was right in front of Anthony's previous target.

It was too late for Anthony to stop himself. The energy was already heading Loki's way. "Loki!" Anthony shouted.

A shield of green seidr manifested before the repulsor blast could hit him. Acknowledging the possible danger, Loki hastily weaved an extra spell. The shield flickered for but a moment as it absorbed the repulsor energy, keeping Anthony safe from the possible backlash of the contact between the two forces.

It lasted for only a few moments, and then, Loki's magic settled again and all was quiet. Anthony burst forward so quickly Loki was surprised he didn't trip over the detritus on the floor. "Loki," he breathed, gently cupping Loki's cheeks. "Are you all right?"

"I am not so easily harmed, Anthony." Loki smiled, letting the mortal fuss over him. "You need not worry."

"I'm so fucking sorry." Anthony cursed. "I didn't see you."

"The fault was mine. I know better than to teleport into your workshop. I did not expect you to be testing your weaponry today."

That was actually true, but it was also a dig at the fact that Anthony had been obviously taking out his anger and frustration by wrecking his beautiful lab.

Anthony pulled away, staring at his hands as if he'd finally realized he'd been touching Loki. "I just... Could we simply call it temporary insanity and leave it at that?"

"We absolutely cannot." Loki gripped Anthony's chin and forced their eyes to meet. "Anthony, I do not wish to make any mistaken assumptions, but truly, you must know how much you mean for Sleipnir. You are the only father he has ever known."

Anthony's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed nervously. "I didn't mean to presume."

"It is not presumptuous. It is simply truth." Loki grabbed Anthony's wrist and pivoted them around, pinning the mortal against a metal table. "Tell me you don't want this."

Anthony groaned. "What's the point?" His voice was husky and raw, and he was already starting to grind against Loki. "You already know I do."

Loki grinned. "Perhaps," he whispered.

Just because he could, he pressed his mouth to that of his mortal. Once Loki did that, something shifted between them. Anthony stabbed his hands through his hair, holding on tightly. All uncertainty seemed to fade. They fed on one another with a greed born out of years of strikingly chaste cohabitation.

When they broke the kiss, they were both panting and rock hard, desperate for more. "Lo..." Anthony breathed out. "Come on."

"Patience, my Anthony," Loki purred. "I've been just dying to show you why they call me Silver Tongue."

Loki dropped to his knees and proceeded to do just that.

****

Sleipnir paced. His mother had gone to speak with Sir Anthony, and had instructed him to wait here. Shortly after that, Sleipnir had felt an overflow of seidr, and then things had settled back down.

"JARVIS, are they all right?" he couldn't help but ask.

"Indeed, Young Master Sleipnir," JARVIS replied. "They are fine. There was a brief accident in the lab, but Master Loptr controlled the aftermath."

"And... With the other thing?"

"I believe, Young Master Sleipnir, that your project has finally become a success."

Sleipnir stared at the ceiling. He knew JARVIS wasn't actually there, but right now, he couldn't be bothered to care about the details. "You're fucking with me."

Sleipnir had been trying to get his mother and Sir Anthony to get a move on for a while now. Unfortunately, they seemed to be completely determined to just make eyes at one another and not actually take the final step. (Sleipnir knew, because he had often expressed this frustration to JARVIS, who as it turned out was just as frustrated.)

But now, the wait had finally come to an end. And of course, JARVIS had to ruin it by focusing on the most irrelevant part.

"I am absolutely not fucking with you." JARVIS sounded prim and offended. "And Master Loptr would be distraught to hear that language from you, as would Sir."

Sleipnir stuck out his tongue. "I'm older than most everyone you know put together."

"Age is not a matter of number. I have, in fact, spoken with Master Loptr, and given your race, you are still only a child."

JARVIS and Mother colluding against him? Sleipnir was vaguely terrified. Now he knew how Sir Anthony felt.

Sir Anthony... Hmm...

"Hey, JARVIS. Do you think... Sir Anthony would mind if I called him Father?"

"No, he most certainly would not, Young Master." JARVIS's voice was warm and filled with affection, although Sleipnir knew better than to think the AI had truly been distracted from his quest to clean Sleipnir's vocabulary. "I believe he would deem it an honor."

"Awesome." Sleipnir bounced on his heels. "And you know what else that means?"

"I am almost afraid to ask."

"Well, you're my brother of course." Sleipnir grinned, wide and bright. "So... Call me by my name, will you?"

"Very well... Sleipnir."

Sleipnir danced through the living room, even shifting once or twice in his glee. When he finally exhausted his enthusiasm, he asked, "Are they still busy?"

The sound JARVIS made would have been called that of a 'cleared throat' if JARVIS had had a throat to clear. "Indeed. With... adult things."

Oh, even better.

"In the meantime, Sleipnir. I believe we still have geography lessons for today."

Sleipnir wasn't really in the mood to study—he kind of wanted to shift and run—but he decided to go along with it. His lessons with JARVIS were actually quite fun, especially when his parents joined in.

But now, his parents needed a little time for one another. And Sleipnir thought that was pretty great.

If there was anyone who deserved to be happy, it was them. Sleipnir was definitely happier than he'd ever been. He had a true family, a father, siblings, and a home he loved. His nature and his past didn't matter for his father, for his brothers. What could possibly go wrong?

Chapter Text

"You truly do not know what this is about? Heimdall hasn't told you anything?"

Sif arched a brow at Fandral, suppressing her irritation. She walked faster, eager to get to the throne room. "I have told you before, I do not know, and even I did, I would not reveal it."

Hogun was quiet, as was his way, simply matching her almost punishing pace. The three of them had been summoned to the throne room by the king. Whatever Thor wanted to tell them couldn't be good.

It was in moments such as these that Sif missed Volstagg's boisterous presence, but unfortunately, he was no longer part of their group. The Warriors Three had disbanded long ago.

She was not one to dwell on such yearnings, but as of late, she had been restless. She couldn't help but feel something would happen soon. And she highly suspected it would be all because of him, because of Loki.

Fandral seemed to think the same. "You think this is about him? About Loki?"

Sif twitched in irritation. "It's a definite possibility."

"I hope it is." Fandral hummed. "Things might be more cheerful around here if he returns."

Sif suppressed the urge to strangle Fandral. He'd made several such comments in the past. Personally, Sif thought Loki's disappearance was a big improvement. She still had not forgotten his childish attack of her, and the fact that it had left her with black hair instead of its former gold. Most Aesir agreed—at least at first.

Once upon a time, Volstagg had told her that he did not miss Loki, but he did miss how Thor had been before the wall. In a way, Sif agreed.

Thor had never told her what had happened to trigger Loki's abrupt departure. The only thing they knew was that Loki had gone to fix things with the Jotun builder. He'd successfully driven the horse away, but after that, he had disappeared.

Heimdall knew something, but he had refused to tell Sif, claiming he was under oath for the All-Father. Similarly, Thor had said that his mother had made him swear never to share it with anyone. But in her heart, Sif thought she knew. In fact, she thought most people knew.

It wasn't that hard to guess. Loki had ridden off as a mare, the Jotun's horse after him. There were few things that could have happened to keep him from Asgard, and only one that truly fit the situation.

Loki must have copulated with the horse. Sif had always deemed him ergi—his use of the womanly arts was a clear sign in her opinion—and she'd made her disgust clear. She had managed to surpass her station as a woman, and she found it a personal insult that he, who was a man, had willingly chosen to degrade himself by picking tricks over a true warrior's courage.

She could not blame Thor for being too ashamed to talk about it. But still, Thor's embarrassment over the trickster's perversion did not explain everything he'd done since.

Their adventures had long ago stopped being about hunting monsters and glory. Instead, they kept tracking down leads, attempting to find Loki. They never did—it was impossible to find Loki when he didn't want to be found—but Thor still kept trying.

Thor's previously sunny demeanor was nowhere to be found. He tried very hard to make it appear like nothing was wrong, at least when they were around other people. For some reason, Thor's bright self-confidence caused offense more often than not.

And then there was the Mjolnir incident. Everybody knew about it of course. A Frost Giant named Thyrm had managed to steal the sacred hammer. It was still a mystery how it had happened—Loki-like trickery, no doubt—but the end result was that Thor had lost Mjolnir, and Thyrm refused to return it, no matter how much they threatened or what promises they made.

The only thing he'd been interested in was beautiful Freya's hand.

Thor had not even brought the demand to Freya. Instead, he had brought his axe upon Thyrm's head. "Never again," he had said simply.

He had not offered any explanations. Mjolnir remained lost. But to this day, Thor said he did not regret what he had done.

They'd tried many times to cheer Thor up, and one of those expeditions had ended the Warriors Three. They had run afoul of five massive bilgesnipe. It was not the first time they'd met with the creatures and in the past, all of them had gotten out of it with only scratches.

This time had been different. She had managed to escape largely unscathed, as had Thor and Hogun, but Fandral had lost an eye. And Volstagg... Volstagg's size made him a target.

It was truly fortunate that Volstagg had gotten away with only losing his sword arm. It could have been so much worse.

During the moments when Volstagg had been delirious with pain, while she had been struggling to keep his guts in, he had said something she had never forgotten. "Where is Loki? He always said... The bilgesnipe never liked his smoke."

Loki. Loki again.

Sif had tried to bring her concerns to the All-Father, but for the past century or so, he'd become wearier and wearier, faster that Sif herself expected. Heimdall never explained, but neither did he seemed surprised that Thor's coronation had been so speedy.

It had not changed even after Thor took the throne. If anything, it had gotten worse. Of course, Thor had no more time for adventures—she expected that—but he also seemed to change, turn from the loud and boisterous warrior she had known into someone she could hardly recognize.

And now, here she was, responding to a call from Asgard's throne, a call from for Thor, her friend, her king and the man she had loved for the better part of her life. Again, she had no idea what to make of it.

Thor was waiting for them on Hlidskjalf as they entered the throne room. It had been more than one year since he'd taken the throne, and still, Sif hadn't fully grown accustomed to it. Nevertheless, they bowed and saluted, bringing their fists to their chests. He smiled at them, and it held both a shadow and a hope she didn't know how to interpret.

"Lady Sif. Fandral. Hogun."

"My king, you wished to see us?"

"Indeed," Thor replied, gesturing for them to rise. "As you know, Heimdall has been under orders from the All-Father to watch for any signs of Loki's magical signature. He tells me that, for the first time in centuries, he has finally felt it."

Sif suppressed the urge to gape. "What? When?"

"Yesterday." Thor left the throne and started to pace. "I have been in council with Mother ever since. And now, I have received further news."

Fandral frowned. "My king? Is everything all right?"

What kind of question was that? Clearly, everything was not all right. The trickster must be up to his old mischief again.

"We do not know. Heimdall is simply not certain what it was that he felt," Thor replied. "It was for but a moment, a mere flicker. He also thought he heard Loki's name and he identified it as coming from Midgard."

"Midgard?" Sif repeated. "The All-Father ordered us to stay away from the mortals."

"Indeed, but it would have served as a good refuge for my brother since his departure." Thor sighed. "The matter grows more complicated, Lady Sif. As Heimdall scoured Midgard for my brother, his eye fell on something else. It seems the mortals have found the Tesseract and seek to use it."

Sif was in shock. The Tesseract, in the hands of mortals? It could not be. Everyone knew the Tesseract's technology was beyond petty Midgardian minds.

Loki. Of course. It made so much sense now. Such chaos could have only happened through Loki's machinations. He must have done something, perhaps in an attempt to seek vengeance on Asgard for whatever imagined slight.

Sif shook herself and focused on what Thor was saying. "Unfortunately, as much as it pains me, this means we do not have the time to seek a stealthy manner to approach Midgard. Should the mortals succeed in awakening the Tesseract, the results could be disastrous, so the search for Loki must be temporarily set aside."

Thor descended the dais, and came to stand in front of her. He pressed a hand to her shoulder, once again her friend not her king. He smiled at her, then at Fandral and Hogun. "Sif. Fandral, Hogun. With my father in the Odinsleep and mother watching over him, I cannot leave the Golden Realm. Can I rely on you to go to Midgard in my stead?"

"Always, Thor. You always have my sword." And my heart, she thought, but she didn't say it.

"Of course, Thor," Fandral replied. "A jaunt to Midgard sounds quite fun actually."

Hogun simply nodded and bowed in deference of Thor's title.

"Thank you." Thor's smile was wide and bright. "Speak to the mortals. We do not seek to frighten them. Most of them believe themselves to be alone in the universe, and we do not want to challenge their authority or intervene in their world."

It was not an approach Sif had expected from Thor. She normally would not question her king, but he was here, her friend as well as her sovereign. "Thor? You do not wish for a show of force?"

Thor shook his head. "No. I do not think... It is not what Loki would have done."

Sif felt like she'd been slapped. "Loki?"

"Indeed." Thor sighed. "I know you and he didn't always see eye to eye, but he was always the clever one, the Silver Tongue. Without him... " He shook his head, trailing off. "It matters not. Forgive me. I still have hope to discuss these issue with Loki himself. In the meantime, my dear Lady Sif, I trust you to handle the Tesseract issue. The mortals have grown since our last visit there. They will understand the benefits of an alliance."

"Yes, of course," Sif choked out. "And Loki?"

"The mortals who are attempting to use the Tesseract seem to have great knowledge of their world. It would not hurt to ask, although I fear pursuing this avenue will simply make Loki hide elsewhere." Another deep sigh. "Alas, it is not something that can be helped. Ask them, my friends. Ask them, and if there is any word, bring my brother home."

Chapter Text

Phil was in the Tesseract chamber, watching over Doctor Selvig when the a report from Hawkeye came in. Fury had dispatched Clint Barton to follow Stark and his unlikely companions after Natasha's infiltration had failed.

So far, Barton hadn't found anything suspicious at all... which was perhaps suspicious in itself.

"Switzerland? What in the world are they doing in Switzerland?"

"Vacationing, it would seem," Natasha said, manifesting seemingly out of nowhere.

Her voice was level and blank, but Phil could sense a dose of amusement. He couldn't exactly tell why. Natasha was a mystery to him, and sometimes even to Barton, the agent who'd brought her in and helped her switch sides.

At some level, Phil had expected her to be frustrated at failing to insinuate herself into Stark's confidence. The Widow never failed an op. That was a given. She was easily their best spy, and quite possibly, their best agent.

It didn't seem to bother her.

Phil skimmed the file again and mused over Widow's report, and what they'd learned so far. "Vacationing. When I thought about how we might have first contact with a possible alien intelligence, this wasn't exactly the situation I imagined."

Phil had, in fact, imagined many scenarios, especially after witnessing what the entity called Loptr had done to Stane's Iron Monger armor. Predictably, SHIELD had wanted Loptr and the child brought in, tests done, the works. The WSC were almost beyond themselves with glee. An alien running amok on Earth, ripe for the taking? With offspring to boot? It was Christmas.

They had not counted on Stark.

Fury had been watching Tony Stark for many years. He'd known Howard well, and he'd believed Tony had a lot to offer, more than the world seemed to think.

Iron Man had been a surprise to everyone—including Stark himself, if Phil hazarded a guess.

And if not for recent developments, Fury would have pushed for Stark to be included in the Avengers Initiative. But then Loptr had happened and well...

As it turned out, Stark was at his most dangerous when he wasn't making weapons.

They could have accused him of treason, arrested him, buried him deep. There were a lot of ways SHIELD could kill of a person, even one as influential as Stark.

But Stark's real weapons were his intelligence and his money, and as it turned out, what he'd told Coulson in that first meeting only skimmed over what he could do.

Most of the tech SHIELD used—including the Helicarrier—was Stark Industries related. Assuming they could replace that with Hammer Industries technology—which really didn't appeal to Phil at all for obvious reasons—there was the simplest matter of funding. Stark had taken great pains to ensure they knew that if SHIELD acted in any way against him, they would be fucked.

And then, there was Doctor Selvig's shiny toy.

So far, Fury had managed to keep it safe. SHIELD files only referred to it very vaguely, and the PEGASUS project was on a closed network that even Stark could not find it if he didn't know it was there.

Unfortunately, any aggressive move they made could lead to Stark discovering that officially, he owned the cube.

By the end of his life, Howard Stark had been a paranoid bastard, and he'd made sure the Tesseract would belong to his son and heir, not SHIELD. If word got to Stark of that... Well, the WSC wanted to avoid that more than they did to analyze the entity know as Loptr.

In theory, they could eliminate Stark. In practice... Not really.

And the truth was that the cube made Phil nervous. He almost wished Stark could come here and take it. There was something about it that gave him a bad feeling, like he was on an op that was just about to go downhill in a spectacular way.

But the decision was not in his hands, and even if he'd been director, he couldn't have stopped Phase Two.

"You don't like this," Natasha guessed, shaking him out of his thoughts.

Phil didn't answer. It wasn't a question, but a statement, and they both knew Natasha was right.

"Selvig's clean," Natasha said. "He only had brief contact with a scientist named Jane Foster. Apparently, she studies wormholes in New Mexico. He hasn't spoken to her since he's been on the PEGASUS base."

"It's not Selvig." He was incredibly excited about the cube, but that was just him being a scientist. But still... Phil couldn't shake the feeling something was going to happen.

Confirming Phil's suspicions, the alarms started to blare. The ground shook. Phil let out a vicious and quite uncharacteristic curse. He hated being right.

All agents were summoned top-side, where apparently, several armed intruders had been spotted. Hill was already on the scene when Natasha and Phil got there. As a rule, she was completely straight-faced, not quite as guarded with her emotions as Natasha, but close. Now, she seemed at a loss.

Two men and a woman were standing in the middle of the base, a smoking circle of something that looked like letters around them. They were dressed in honest-to-God armor, and were armed with swords, weapons that looked like something out of the Middle Ages.

Phil remembered Loptr, that strange armor of his and the way he'd disassembled the Iron Monger. He knew better than to underestimate these people.

"What happened here?" he asked.

"Apparently, there was a column of light and the unknown individuals simply appeared on the ground," Hill explained. "They haven't made any attempt to initiate hostilities."

As if Hill's words triggered some sort of response, the unknown woman took a step forward. "Midgardians, we are here on behalf of King Thor of Asgard. We do not mean any harm, but we seek to speak to your leader on several matters of great importance."

Hill gestured for the agents to put their weapons away. For the moment, their intruders—more aliens—appeared to be friendlies. The last thing SHIELD wanted was to change that.

"I'm Agent Hill, and I'm in charge of this base. If you could please follow me, we should take this conversation inside."

"Certainly."

The three aliens introduced themselves as Lady Sif, Fandral the Dashing and Hogun the Grim. Phil knew why they were here before they even said it.

The Tesseract was notorious as being an artifact created by the Norse gods. It was what the Red Skull had believed, at least, when he'd first sought it out in the war. And now, here were three Asgardians, in a base dedicated to exploring the Tesseract's potential.

If they hadn't come for the damn cube, Phil would hand in his resignation tomorrow and turn to baking. Or possibly improving his Captain America card collection. He was very close to having a complete set.

And who knew? Maybe a break would be nice.

Unfortunately, it was not to be. Almost immediately, Sif confirmed Phil's guess. "We have recently learned that you have the Tesseract in your possession. Is this true?"

The latter question was clearly asked for formality's sake. It was obviously true—otherwise they wouldn't be here.

"It is," Hill replied after a small moment of pause. She was obviously conflicted about it, not comfortable with revealing such information, but she knew, like Phil, that it was useless to pretend. "We have several scientists studying it."

"The Tesseract is incredibly dangerous," Sif said. "It is not meant for mortal hands."

"Rest assured that Asgard respects Midgard's efforts in understand its workings, and will recompense you for its return," Fandral added.

The dynamic between the three of them was interesting. Phil was glad he'd discreetly asked Natasha to come along—and Hill hadn't protested—because her take on it would be vital.

As far as he could tell so far, the woman seemed in charge. However, she was more aggressive, whereas Fandral appeared to have a more diplomatic approach. A classic case of good cop-bad cop? Maybe, maybe not. The third man was a mystery. He had not said a word, even to introduce himself. Grim indeed.

Hill explained that such decisions were out of her hands. Quite frankly, Phil thought she was relieved. This was above their pay grade.

Shortly afterward, Fury swept in with a swish of his dark coat. The three Asgardians greeted him with a strange salute. After all the introductions were made, Fury said, "I understand that you're interested in the cube."

"Indeed, Man of Fury," Fandral said. Man of Fury? Phil wished Barton were here. He'd have a field day with this. "As we earlier explained to Lady Hill, it is too dangerous to remain on Midgard."

"How come it wasn't dangerous until now?" Fury asked. He was right, of course. The Red Skull had actively used the Tesseract during the war. The price for that had been paid in blood. Where had the Asgardians been then?

"The All-Father left the Tesseract on Midgard believing it would be safe." Sif looked uncomfortable, as if she didn't want to say her king had been mistaken. "It was in the care of trusted guardians. At the time, your world was very young, and easily overlooked."

Fury arched a brow. "And now that we're not peasants worshiping you, you want it back?"

"It is necessary," Fandral insisted. "The Tesseract holds great power, one that could lead to the destruction of your entire realm."

Okay, Phil had to admit that was bad. He had no reason to believe they were telling the truth—no reason but his bad feeling about the cube.

"We understand why Midgard would be unwilling to give up such a treasure," Sif added. "As such, our king offers an alliance, an exchange between our realms."

Phil was definitely a fan of that idea. The Tesseract was powerful, yes, but it was also a time bomb. For all their medieval-like weaponry, the Asgardians had already proven that they had amazing technology by appearing in the middle of the base. Besides, no one wanted to start a war with an advanced alien race.

Phil knew Fury would take the deal, and so would the World Security Council, but of course, they couldn't look too eager.

"I will have to discuss it with my superiors, and we will need to know more details, talk about it with your king. Until then, the Tesseract will have to stay. However, we are more than open to your proposition."

Fandral shot them a charming grin. "Excellent. You are wise, Man of Fury. We will happily convey this news to King Thor."

"But before we do so," Sif intervened, "there is a secondary matter to address."

Alarm bells started to ring in Phil's head. "A secondary matter?" Fury repeated.

"Indeed." Sif nodded. "We seek a man who is missing from Asgard. He is a trickster and a mage and goes by the name of Loki. Have you had any contact with him? Our king offers a reward for any information that might lead to finding his whereabouts."

She obviously believed that they had knowledge on this, and unfortunately, Phil couldn't deny it. He thought about the report from Barton, of Stark traveling through Switzerland, apparently domesticated by Loptr and his son. The idea had unsettled him at the time, but now, he found that he didn't want to tell her about it.

Unfortunately, Loptr was a potential threat, an unknown factor and a dangerous influence on Stark. Adding the reward to that... Well, Coulson was not surprised when Fury said, "We might have. My operatives came in contact with an individual who calls himself Loptr."

Sif perked up, a glint of something savage in her eye. Coulson shared an unsettled look with Natasha. She had seen it too. "Do you have a description and a location of the individual?"

"Coulson? Bring it up."

Coulson couldn't disobey Fury, so he brought up Loki's file. They didn't have any actual photos of Loki—all footage was incredibly blurry. The clearest ones had been attached to the file, as well as a portrait made using digital technology.

As soon as Coulson displayed the image, Sif unsheathed her blade. It looked awfully sharp. "That is him. We have found him at last."

Fandral tossed her a look, and she seemed to remember herself. She slid the weapon back in its sheathe. "Where is he? You must take us to him at once before he flees again."

Fury no longer looked so enthusiastic. Undoubtedly, he was thinking about Stark's possible reaction, and realizing there was more at stake here.

Weirdly enough and in a completely uncharacteristic development, it was Natasha who spoke. "Before we divulge that information, we must ask. Is Loki a criminal? Is he dangerous for Midgard? Why is he being pursued?"

"This is an Asgardian matter, mortal," Sif snapped, her hand already on the hilt of her blade. "Remember your place."

"I'm afraid Agent Romanov is correct," Coulson said. "We are not withholding any information, but any potential conflict could lead to civilian casualties."

Sif's irritation just seemed to be increasing, despite Coulson's placating tone. "The trickster is dangerous. He must be stopped."

Yes, she had said that before. She hadn't actually said why.

Fandral looked pained. "The Lady Sif's concern is not wholly unwarranted. Understand, mortals, Loki's power is great. He is not a criminal, no, but our king has instructed us to return him to Asgard."

There was nothing for it. They couldn't actually say no, no matter how uncomfortable Phil felt.

"We know where he is," Fury said at last. "We can take you to him."

Sif nodded jerkily. "We leave at once. There is no time to waste. He has escaped us before."

"That can be arranged. Coulson, Romanov, coordinate with Agent Barton. Set up a meeting. And keep me posted."

With that, Fury took off, followed by Hill. Most likely, they were going to do some damage control for the imminent disaster. Stark would definitely not take this well.

But Coulson had his orders and he would follow them. "I will arrange for a transport. In the meantime, Agent Romanov will show you where you can rest and freshen up."

He left the Asgardians to Natasha, feeling old and tired. Right then and there, focusing on his trading card collection was looking pretty good. Sometimes, he hated his job.

Chapter Text

 Sleipnir loved Switzerland. He didn't have a lot of experience with snow—there was no snow on Alfheim, and on Vanaheim, it was very rare, so he was intrigued by it, by the fresh air and the mountain peaks.

Loki was glad he had agreed to Anthony's suggestion. He loved Malibu, but as Anthony had pointed out, soon, they would be stuck there while Loki removed the arc reactor and restored his chest. It would do Sleipnir good to explore a bit more until that happened. He was doing better, and the shadows in his eyes were starting to fade.

They missed the bots, but JARVIS was still with them, within the armor and their cell phones. And Loki was having quite a lot of fun, enjoying the new status of his relationship with Anthony, reveling in the kisses they shared.

It was not always easy. Loki found that he had trouble with some positions—he always needed to see Anthony's face when they had intercourse. He had not experienced any problems letting himself be taken as a man, but he could not do it on all fours. Anthony had been incredibly patient about it, assuring Loki that they didn't have to anything Loki wasn't ready for. Fortunately, there had been plenty of things that they could do—and Loki enjoyed showing Anthony each and every one of them.

He should have known it wouldn't last. Nothing good ever did, not for Loki.

The morning had been going so well. The three of them—plus JARVIS—were having breakfast, seated at the table in their resort. Sleipnir had discovered fondue and he insisted on having some at every single meal. His appetite had only increased—Loki suspected it had a lot to do with the fact that he too was happy—and at first, the staff at the resort had been a little shocked. But Anthony's name fixed everything, and Sleipnir had whatever his heart desired.

At some level, Loki could see why the Lady Pepper would believe he was taking advantage of Anthony. But Sleipnir had never lacked for physical comforts—Loki's skills guaranteed that. It was Anthony's smiles and hugs that were precious, the 'my kid', the pride with which he watched Sleipnir, even if Sleipnir was not his blood.

Sleipnir glowed with it, and with each passing day, Svadilfari became more and more irrelevant—just a story, nothing that could touch them.

Anthony happily entwined his fingers with Loki, grinning at him as he spoke. "You know, if you'd asked me a few years ago where I'd be right about now, the last thing I'd have imagined was this place."

"Oh?" Loki arched a brow. "Where would you be now if not here?"

"Well... There's this Grand Prix in Monaco. Fast cars, racing, beautiful women, champagne, caviar, money. Everything you need as a genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist."

As Anthony described his so-called Grand Prix, Sleipnir wrinkled his nose. "Sounds boring. I can race with Mama and you have plenty of cars of your own. Noisy and boring."

"Yes, well... Here's the thing, Sleipy. Sometimes, you think you want some things, but in fact, that doesn't work for you at all. Maybe I'll take you to see the Grand Prix one day, but right now, it's no longer what I need. I don't think it ever was."

And therein lay the gist of it. Anthony was happy too. He had stopped flinching when Loki placed his hands on his chest, and his nightmares were few and far in between. It was perfect.

That was when Loki felt it—a second energy core, one incredibly similar to Anthony's own arc reactor. Sleipnir sensed it too. "What is that?" he asked.

Anthony frowned. "What? Everything okay, Sleipy?"

Before Sleipnir could reply, a mortal approached, seeming by all accounts, one of the servants of the resort. It all happened incredibly fast. Loki and Sleipnir shot to their feet, both detecting the threat. The man tore off his shirt, revealing his reactor and two whips that had been attached to the mechanism strapped to the energy source.

Anthony saw their alarm, but he was facing away from the mortal with the whips. He turned, but despite his improved senses, his reaction time was not fast enough.

The man swung his whip. It never hit his target.

Loki didn't even think about it. In a blink of an eye, he had his armor around him and Laevateinn in his hand. The magic sword sliced straight through the metallic whip like it was nothing.

As a rule, Loki didn't make use of his sword. He had built the weapon when his son had been very young, shortly after he had met Hel and found out about his Jotnar legacy.

At the time, Loki had still been having nightmares of Svadilfari chasing and overpowering him. Those dreams often turned into Asgardians catching him and dragging Sleipnir from his arms. Sif would call Loki a Jotun monster, sew his lips shut all over again. And he would not even be able to fight as he watched them bridle Sleipnir and make him into a slave to the All-Father's whims.

He'd needed a weapon, something to match Mjolnir or Gungnir if he ever needed to stand against them. He was good with daggers, but that was nowhere near enough, and a spear like the All-Father's was out of the question. A sword, then.

He had forged Laeveteinn beneath the gates of death, with special permission from Hel. He'd forged it out of magic, terror, deception and chaos, and the energies of the dead empowered it. Hel had been more than happy to help. Even after Loki's departure from Helheim, the sword remained, as proof to Loki's connection to its queen.

No Midgardian could stand against it. Indeed, it was, as Anthony would say, overkill. But the man with the whip had come close to slicing Anthony in half. That could not stand.

Armed with sword and seidr, Loki attacked. He didn't bother with elaborate threats like he had with Stane. Instead, he sliced the man's hands clean off, one after the other. His opponent staggered back, screaming, his eyes wide with fear and pain.

Loki couldn't have cared less. Or rather, he enjoyed it, enjoyed seeing that terror. He wondered if this was what it meant to be a bersekr. He had seen it countless times in Thor, his brother laughing as he crushed the skulls of thousands of enemies. But Loki's anger was not like that. It was cold and ruthless, jagged like the peaks of the mountains. It would never target those he loved, but it would leave his enemies in little pieces.

Once again, he lifted his sword, ready to finish off the wounded mortal. Without a moment of hesitation, he buried the blade in the man's chest, slicing straight through the reactor. The man's agonized screaming came to an abrupt halt. He collapsed onto the floor, dead.

If Loki had waited a moment longer, perhaps he would have stopped himself. No sooner had he pulled his blade out of the wound than his seidr started to scream a warning.

Loki faltered, letting his sword drop. Instantly, Anthony was by his side. He seemed oblivious to the man now lying dead at their feet."What? Are you okay? Loki, did he hurt you?"

It never failed to comfort Loki how Anthony always showed concern for him, even if Loki was nowhere near as fragile as Anthony himself. It helped anchor Loki despite his shock. "Anthony, my love, he didn't even touch me."

"Then what is it? You look like you've seen a ghost."

It was, ironically, a pretty accurate assessment. "It is... It is the Bifrost. It has landed on Midgard."

He had not thought Anthony could grow tenser, but clearly he'd been mistaken. "Okay. Time to go. Are they anywhere here? Can you tell?"

Loki tilted his head as he considered the question. He let his eyes drift shut, scanning his environment. When he opened them again, he was fuming. "There are no Aesir nearby, but there are spies watching."

He had been careless. He, the Liesmith, had somehow managed to forget that he was still on a planet that considered him a potential danger.

"What do you want to do?" Anthony asked quietly.

Something in Anthony's voice put Loki on alarm. "Anthony?"

"You could go. I mean... The Asgardians likely don't know where you are yet, but they're liable to find out eventually. You could cut your losses and go."

Loki didn't hesitate for a moment. "No. I will not leave. I have lost enough to Asgard, and Midgard has become our home. You are our home."

"Lo..."

"You know I'm right, Anthony." Loki sighed. "I admit part of me wishes to depart, but I also wish to take you with me. Unfortunately, that is not possible. I can take you but... not your children."

JARVIS and the bots depended on Midgardian technology. Loki had a vague idea on how he could change that, at least for JARVIS, but it was a very distant project, nothing he could do now. So, no, he could not leave.

"Besides," Sleipnir piped up, "Mama hasn't done anything wrong. Asgard can't take him, or me."

Anthony's jaw tightened. Sometimes, it didn't work that way, and both he and Loki knew it. But Anthony had clearly reached a decision. "Fair enough. Okay. There's no reason to jump the gun about anything yet. So here's what we'll do..."

****

When Clint Barton had left the circus, he'd quite frankly expected the new job to be pretty boring. Okay, so boring wasn't exactly the right word, but up to a point, Clint was often pretty sure on what to expect out of an op or a mark. Even if something went south, it wasn't necessarily in a way that hadn't happened to him or others before.

Quite frankly, he was fine with that. He'd done pretty good, if he did say so himself, especially for a kid who'd run away from home and joined the circus. He even had a close friend and unlikely partner in the Black Widow of all people.

Then Coulson sent him to babysit Stark and his boyfriend and things went... Just... What the fuck?

First, some wacko with a reactor like Stark's and whips attached to his hands attacked Stark in the middle of the Swiss resort. In Clint's opinion, that was fucking ridiculous. Clint understood all about wanting to get up close and personal with a target, but having that kind of juice at one's disposal and using whips? Yeah, no.

Then again, he liked to use a bow, so maybe he wasn't the best person to throw stones here. Ahem.

At any rate, it only got freakier from there. Stark's boyfriend drew out of sword out of the fucking air, and damn it if the thing didn't look like something out of the Lord of the Rings—or that Warcraft game some of the SHIELD agents on the Helicarrier played during downtime. Now beefed up in an armor with a fucking horned helmet—again, what the fuck—the alien then proceeded to disarm the dude with the whips—quite literally—and then stab him right through the reactor.

Clint both congratulated himself for finding a spot on a neighboring building that allowed him a good eagle's eye view of Stark's table—and kind of wished he was in a more normal place. Like Budapest. Preferably with Nat by his side.

But he wasn't, and regardless of his wishes, he was the only SHIELD agent currently on the scene. He radioed for backup and considered the merits of approaching Stark and his boyfriend.

And then the entity known as Loptr wiggled his finger in Clint's direction and gestured for him to approach. Okay, that answered that.

Technically speaking, he wasn't obliged to comply to any request from Loptr, but so far, Loptr had only been hostile or violent to Stark's attackers. Clint didn't belong to that category, and Loptr likely didn't want to make SHIELD his enemies, so he was safe. Probably. He hoped. Shit.

He went into the resort.

Stark was nowhere to be seen. The place was pretty empty, save for Loptr and his kid. It was pretty fucked up that the kid didn't seem in the least bit alarmed at his father's—mother's?—behavior, but maybe it wasn't unusual where they came from. Hell, it wasn't unusual in some countries on Earth.

"So... You rang?" He'd always wanted to say that.

Loptr smiled. "Indeed. You are with the organization called SHIELD, yes?"

"Agent Barton." Be polite with the mark, Barton, Nat's voice said in his head. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Loptr."

Loptr chuckled. "That's not really true, but the words are appreciated nonetheless. Agent Barton, I trust you witnessed the incident?"

Clint nodded wordlessly, not offering any further details. Loki didn't seem to think them necessary. "I will require for you and your employers to... clean up this unfortunate mess. Anthony is discussing matters with the owners of the resort and making sure no one else was injured. For my part, I understand that there are legal matters that might arise because of my actions."

Interesting. The alien didn't want any trouble. Well, in Clint's book, that was a huge plus. Just the fact that he was standing here chatting with Clint meant a lot.

"As I see it, he came at you with a whip. You were entitled to defend yourself." Although the extent of the 'defense' had been pretty excessive, but Clint wasn't crazy. He wasn't going to say that. He still needed his hands to wield his bow.

"I am glad you see things my way." He paused, then apropos of nothing, he said, "I see you wield a bow."

Clint blinked. "Uh... yeah." What the hell? What did that mean?

"Interesting choice. Unusual for a Midgardian in this day and age."

Clint shrugged, although he felt a little uncomfortable. "Maybe, but I don't really care. It's what I like. The bow is like an extension of me. I can feel it."

And why the hell had he said that? He didn't usually talk about why he used the bow and not a sniper rifle, even if firearms would be far more convenient.

Loptr gave him a knowing look. "Indeed. A good bow has heart, Agent Barton, and so do you." Another smile. "If you ever find yourself in need of employment, contact Anthony. We will be sure to find something for you."

Before Clint could even begin to process that, Stark stalked in. "Are you seriously trying to poach people from SHIELD, Lo?"

"Multi-tasking, my love, as ever." Loptr smirked. "Are we done here?"

"Yup. People were pretty freaked out, but fortunately, no one was hurt. I made our apologies and he understood. So, we're all ready to go." Stark turned toward Clint, his lips twisted in a strange little smile. "Agent Barton, remember Lo's offer. If you're interested, call Pepper. I know you guys have her number. She'll know what to do. Bye now."

Loptr took his son's hand, and then Stark's—and just like that, they disappeared into thin air. For a few seconds, Clint stared at the place where they'd been. Then he retrieved his cellphone and dialed Coulson. "Boss. You'll never believe what happened."

****

"What do you mean you don't know where he is?" Sif snarled. "I thought you said you could take us to him."

Coulson suppressed the urge to rub his eyes. He was going to ask for raise from Fury. "As I said, there was an attack on the location in question. The agent on the scene reported that he disappeared shortly after that." No need to give any more details.

"He is a menace," Sif predictably offered. "He needs to be stopped."

Coulson didn't address that. She was already starting to get repetitive with saying that over and over.

They hadn't gotten the chance to leave the PEGASUS base with the Asgardians. An agent had rushed in, notifying them something had gone wrong in Switzerland. Coulson had struggled not to panic and had waited for Barton's report. He was not disappointed. Apparently Stark had been attacked by some guy with metallic whips. Loki had killed him in something like three seconds.

A quick scan through SHIELD systems identified the very unwise individual as one Ivan Vanko. Apparently, Vanko was a Russian physicist whose father had some sort of connection with Howard Stark. There hadn't really been time to dig too deeply, because their alien problem took precedence.

In the meantime, wasn't it kind of funny that what bothered Coulson most about the whole thing was that Loki had offered Barton a job? He viciously reminded himself that there other matters at hand that needed to be addressed, namely the furious alien warrior lady currently pacing in front of him.

"They must be on a different realm by now," Sif fumed, her sword already unsheathed.

Coulson shook his head. "They're not going to leave. If they wanted to do that, they wouldn't have bothered to wait around and have a chat with Barton."

"Perhaps he does not know of our presence yet," Fandral suggested. "What exactly happened during this... attack?"

"We have yet to process the full information," Coulson lied, "but it seems he was defending himself."

He wanted to say as little as he could get away with, and definitely not implicate Stark if he could help it. As recalcitrant as Stark had been in his recent dealings with SHIELD, the fact remained that they still needed him. Besides, if these guys tried anything against Loki, Stark was unlikely to just hand him over. He was liable to start an intergalactic war over protecting his boyfriend.

"Defending himself from who?" Fandral asked. "Does he have enemies here on Midgard?"

Coulson's phone beeped, saving him from replying. Coulson looked at the screen. The message was from Natasha—who was right across the room.

"Excuse me for a moment. I need to take this."

He left Natasha with the Asgardians, knowing they were unlikely to intimidate her into revealing anything.

The message simply read, "Call Stark."

Coulson decided he was going to do just that. Natasha was right. It was not too late to do some damage control, and he didn't trust the Asgardians as far as he could throw them.

His phone was already in his hand when Fury intercepted him on the corridor. With practiced ease, Coulson slid the phone back into his pocket. Fury didn't ask him about it. "The Council has just made the decision," he said instead. "We're to take the Asgardians to Stark's mansion at once. Officially, Stark is harboring a fugitive from Asgardian justice."

Coulson nodded and smiled blandly. "Yes, Sir. I will make arrangements at once." As Fury turned and left, Coulson finally pressed end call. Distantly, he wondered if Fury had known that, by the time their conversation had started, said call had already connected.

Chapter Text

"Sir, you have a call from Agent Coulson."

Tony's hands stilled on his keyboard. He didn't really want to talk to anyone from SHIELD, but he couldn't afford to ignore them, not under these circumstances.

"Okay, JARV, pick up."

The call connected, but it wasn't Coulson's voice Tony heard. It was Fury. "The Council has just made the decision. We're to take the Asgardians to Stark's mansion at once. Officially, Stark is harboring a fugitive from Asgardian justice."

Tony was frozen. He had entertained the hope that he'd at least have some more time at his disposal, but clearly, that was not case.

"Yes, Sir," Coulson replied simply through the call. "I will make arrangements at once."

The sound was muffled, as if covered by something. Clearly, Tony wasn't supposed to hear this. There was no way someone like Coulson had done something as stupid as butt-dial. A warning then.

The call ended after that, but Tony already knew what he needed to know. "Okay, clearly the cat is out of the bag. Where's Lo, Jay?"

"On the terrace, Sir. He seems to be checking on the wards."

Loki had been adding magical defenses to the house for months. Tony supposed that, in his heart, Loki had known their idyllic happiness couldn't last.

He went out onto the terrace, knowing that he needed to tell Loki this himself. As it turned out, he didn't have to. The moment Tony approached, Loki said, "They know then."

"Yes." Tony's heart fell as Loki's blank tone. "Got a heads up from Coulson. They're coming here."

"The Son of Coul." Loki huffed, and Tony made a mental note to get Coulson something nice, not just for the heads up, but also for breathing some life into Loki. "Interesting. Thor must have sent Sif. Someone with Coulson's skills would probably sense her aggression."

"We could still leave. I have houses in loads of places. JARV has a lot of backup servers. There's nothing here we can't move."

They had time. They didn't need to wait for the Asgardians in Malibu. He was Tony Stark. He wasn't anyone's victim.

But Loki was already shaking his head. "No. I think, Anthony, that I have done enough running." He turned toward Tony. "I have been thinking on this since we left Switzerland. I do have one last refuge, another option I left for the absolute last. I am still close to Hel, and she would not turn us away should we need to go to Helheim. Sleipnir would be safe there."

Tony's heart hurt, but he understood Loki's logic. In truth, if he could move JARVIS and the bots to a realm no one could touch, he would do it too.

"I would keep you safe too, my Anthony," Loki said, "but Helheim would not be welcoming to you. And in all fairness... " Loki's jaw tightened. "I still hope that we can end this without bloodshed. Aesir tend to hold grudges, but it has been centuries. Perhaps Thor or Frigga still have some degree of sentiment toward me and they can be convinced to abandon the whole thing."

JARVIS interrupted their conversation. "Would this be a good time to confess I have managed to acquire the launch codes for the nuclear weaponry of both Russia and the United States?"

JARVIS sounded a little guilty, but definitely not regretful, and Tony couldn't help it. He laughed. "Let's hold onto the world destruction thing until we're absolutely sure we need it, huh?"

"Indeed, Sir," JARVIS answered. A pause. "Sir... I have managed to track Agent Coulson's cellphone to a facility in the Mojave desert. It does not seem to be affiliated with SHIELD at all. Records indicate that the location holds a NASA base."

Tony scowled. "Why do I have the feeling there's more to it than that, JARV?"

"I cannot be certain, Sir. I have not had the time to look closely to the files. But... If what I found is to be believed, there might be an item at the location that is of interest to both SHIELD and the Asgardians. The item is involved in some way in a NASA project called PEGASUS, which stands for Potential Energy Group/Alternate Sources/United States. Interestingly enough, Howard Stark's name is mentioned in connection to the project."

"Howard? Wait, seriously?"

"Indeed. Unfortunately, the files are extremely vague on the matter. I cannot find a descriptor of the item. If it exists, it is buried deep. But I do believe that this item legally belongs to you."

Tony whistled. "That could come in handy. No wonder the Council didn't give us as much trouble as they could have if they were hiding something like that."

"I have also discovered the identity of our attacker in Switzerland. His name was Ivan Vanko. His father, Anton, worked with Howard Stark in his early research of the arc reactor technology. He was accused of espionage and deported, and has recently died."

Tony had never known there had been anyone else involved in the project. "We need to do more digging into this, Jay. There could be more notes and information Howard left that I have no knowledge of."

"I am, as you would say, on it," JARVIS reported. "On an unrelated note, I have compiled the necessary files on the members of the WSC. They are ready for upload or transfer upon your command. Similarly, on your notification, I will initiate withdrawal of all Stark Industries funding. The House Party protocol is ready for activation."

"You've been a busy little bee, JARV. Well done."

"Thank you, Sir, although I'm afraid I'm nowhere near finished. SHIELD has been blocking me heavily and so far, I have been unsuccessful in hacking a good number of their files."

"I truly appreciate it, JARVIS." Loki smiled softly. "It is, perhaps a little amusing. I swore an oath to protect Anthony, and here you are, protecting me."

"Master Loki, it is only natural. We are family."

"JARVIS is right," Sleipnir suddenly said, stepping up right in front of them. Where in the world had he come from? Even Loki seemed surprised at his appearance. "We protect one another. And I'm not going to let you send me to Helheim."

"Sleipnir, my darling..."

"No, Mother." Sleipnir set his jaw, and he looked impossibly like Loki when he was angry or stubborn. "If you take me there, I'll just come back. I know how. And I know you're thinking of using a spell on me to hold me there. Don't. I can hold my own. You know I can."

"You shouldn't have to, kid," Tony said.

"Maybe not, but it would be even worse to be away from my home, away from my parents, from JARVIS, DUM-E and U." He paused. "Mother, you know what I am. You know I can do this."

"Sleipnir..."

"Mama. I can accept it now. I'm not afraid."

Loki's eyes filled with tears and he dropped to his knees in front of his son. He said nothing, but then, he didn't have to. They all knew what he meant.

And Tony was so impossibly proud of Sleipnir, because Sleipnir truly was his mother's son. He was strong, and he knew what he wanted. Tony pressed a hand to Loki's shoulder. "Lo... Let him stay. He'll be safe in the house, under Jay's watch and the wards. Trust him."

"Yes, all right. You win." Loki wiped his eyes. "But you promise me, Sleipnir... You will stay out of this. I don't want you doing anything crazy again."

"Yes, Mother. I promise. Not unless I absolutely have to."

Loki sighed, but he seemed to know that was the best that he would get. Tony loved them both so much that he couldn't help but join in on the hug.

And a few hours later, when the SHIELD jets appeared in the distance, their little family was ready. No one would shatter the happiness they'd found after so long. They would not allow it.

****

Loki waited for the Aesir on the beach in front of Anthony's mansion, just outside the wards. He was dressed casually, in loose pants, sandals and one of Anthony's shirts. Sleipnir had reluctantly agreed to stay within the shields and under a glamor, unless they absolutely needed him.

After seeing everything Anthony and JARVIS had done, Loki found he didn't fear for his son as much as he normally would have.

SHIELD wasn't taking any chances. The first jet brought in the Aesir, accompanied by the Son of Coul and the so-called Natalie Rushman, but also over ten men dressed in black. There were more aircrafts, with more people approaching. Loki found it interesting that JARVIS's hacking had not uncovered Ms. Rushman's true identity, but at the same time, the mortals were still underestimating Anthony.

Loki tossed a stone into the ocean, and then turned toward the approaching group. "Ms. Rushman. Son of Coul. You should have called. We don't have refreshments ready."

The Son of Coul got his message. "Thank you for the warning". His eyes flashed even as he smiled his placid little grin. "Unfortunately, we're not here for pleasantries."

That was about the only thing the Midgardians could get in before Sif stalked over, sword already drawn. "Loki. By order of the king, you are to cease all mischief on Midgard and return to Asgard at once. Do not resist capture."

Judging by her expression, Sif very much wanted him to resist. Loki couldn't help it. He grinned. "Ah. Dear Lady Sif. You haven't changed. Still chasing after Thor? He will never make you his queen, you know. You are no closer now than you were when I left."

In truth, Loki had no way of knowing that. It was just an educated guess, a game, a chance. He could read her well, though, he always had—and in her, he saw the same bitterness, the same inability to reach what she wanted, the frustration over her unrequited love.

It had always been easy for her to blame Loki for this too, even if Loki had no actual power over Thor's heart.

Sif snarled, confirming his guess had been correct. "Enough of your trickery. Surrender now!"

"Should I?" Loki arched a brow. "As far as I know, I haven't done anything that would warrant my surrender into Asgard's custody."

"You killed a man, just earlier today."

Loki laughed in her face. "Truly? Is that the only thing you have to accuse me of? It was my right as a prince. He attacked my consort. His life was forfeit from the moment he dared to lift a hand against what was mine." He tossed a grin toward the Son of Coul. "Even these Midgardians know. And you, Sif? You who have killed hundreds in Thor's name? Please..."

Sif looked like she was going to pounce him any moment now, but Fandral and Hogun stepped up, stopping her. Volstagg was nowhere to be seen. Interesting.

Fandral cleared his throat and set his hand on Sif's shoulder. "Loki, we have no intention of hurting you. You are not accused of anything, but Thor did entrust us with the task of retrieving you."

"Retrieving me?" Loki snorted. "Fandral, I am not a thing to be retrieved." He tilted his head inquiringly. "Tell me, where is your voluminous companion? Ravaging Midgardian pantries?"

Fandral's jaw tightened, his fingers caressing the hilt of his rapier. "Volstagg lost his sword arm in a bilgesnipe hunt."

"Oh, that's unfortunate. But who knows? It might have been for the best. He has a great many children. It is better for him to be a father than a warrior."

He wasn't lying, and he didn't even mean the words as an offense. The truth was that too often, Aesir forgot about the value of raising their own children. The only honor they saw was in battle. They did not realize seeing one's child grow was more precious than any trophy.

But predictably, Sif didn't see it that way. She shook off Fandral's hold and lunged at Loki.

A repulsor blast landed at her feet, stopping her in her tracks. "Yeah, no. I wouldn't do that if I were you, Xena." The Iron Man armor, no longer glamored, landed next to Loki. "Lo isn't alone anymore."

At that, the Midgardians finally remembered they were supposed to provide backup. "Mr. Stark, please refrain from intervening," the Son of Coul said. His men had lifted their flimsy metal weapons. "This is an Asgardian matter, and you are harboring a fugitive from Asgardian justice."

Anthony lifted his face plate, grinning. "Actually, Errol Flynn there just said Loki isn't accused of anything."

The Son of Coul blinked. "When?"

"Seriously?" Anthony scoffed. "Just now. Weren't you listening?"

"Anthony, my love, we have been speaking in Asgardian," Loki explained. "The mortals cannot understand. Except you, of course."

Amusingly, Loki had no idea when he'd given Anthony the All-Speak, but given all the magic he'd used on his mortal throughout past months, it was not that surprising that it had happened.

The Aesir were not happy about this development—except, perhaps, Sif, who finally seemed to have found a crime Loki was guilty of. "Loki, what have you done? You know it is forbidden to share such knowledge with mortals!"

"Is it now?" Loki snorted. "And what makes you think you can tell me what to do?"

"You claim the title of Prince of Asgard," Sif shot back. "As a prince, you need to obey the king."

"Ah, my dear Lady Sif. You are not listening. I have never once claimed being Prince of Asgard. A prince, but not of the Golden Realm."

For once, Sif and Fandral had similar expressions of confusion, and even Hogun seemed shocked. It was Fandral who recovered first. "And what exactly are you prince of, if not of Asgard? Midgard?

"Mmm... Perhaps." Just because he could, he hooked his arm through Anthony's. "After all, I have the heart of a king."

"Loki...." Sif was practically trembling with rage. "I knew you were ergi, but to show such in front of all to see... It is a dishonor to the name of the All-Father."

"And what will you do, Sif? Challenge me to holmgang?" Loki sneered. "You cannot. You are a woman, remember?"

"Also, Xena, I'd mind my tongue if I were you," Anthony added. "That word you used there... It's not okay with me, and I don't mind hitting a girl."

Sif's lips twisted into a vicious smirk. "Oh, please do, mortal. I will see what king Loki claims for his own."

"Be careful what you wish for. JARV, let's start the house party."

A fleet of armors emerged from beyond the shields, surrounding the gathered Midgardians. Some were the size of the armor Anthony wore, others were larger, incorporating more complicated tech. Loki had given Anthony suggestions on what would be needed for a space-orientated armor, as well as something friendly to magic. It was definitely quite a sight, an army of iron men, proudly wearing Loki's green and Sleipnir's silver, repulsors blaring bright with the fire of Anthony's anger.

Coulson's communicator rang at the same time, and he turned away to listen to what was being said. "Withdraw, Coulson," the order came. "Leave Stark be. The Council had rescinded their previous command."

Of course they had. JARVIS had commands to sent in a different, less flashy attack to the leaders of this little organization and make it clear that Anthony didn't need his army of armors to be dangerous. After all, he might not have finished hacking SHIELD files, but not all files were behind SHIELD firewalls. And really, politicians were all the same in every single realms. They had so many secrets that simply threatening with exposure was enough to make them quickly back down.

"Sir?" Coulson asked.

"Just get out of there. The Asgardians are on their own."

"Yes, Sir."

Anthony's grin was mad and bright as he looked at Sif. "So..." He drawled. "Your move."

Sif just stood there dumbly as she watched the Midgardians pull out. She could not ask them to stay. It would be humiliating for a warrior of Asgard to beg for mortal assistance, even if it was quite obvious they were outnumbered.

Loki snickered. "Well, that was easy. Anthony, my love, you must remind me to give you a prize tonight."

"I do love your prizes, Lo. We always have so much fun." He shot Sif a glance. "Well? Are you just going to stand there and stare? Your ride's leaving."

"We have our orders from King Thor," Sif finally said, straightening her back. "We cannot leave without Loki."

In that moment, Loki realized he'd been right all along, and it was time to stop running and hiding. But it was not Sif and the Three (now the Two) he needed to face. It was Thor.

"Very well then. We shall see what your king desires."

For the first time in centuries, Loki dropped the shield cloaking him. At the same time, he summoned his armor and called out. "Heimdall. If my brother wishes to see me, let him come here himself. I will not bend my knee to him or let his cronies drag me back to Asgard."

It didn't take long. JARVIS just had enough time to clear the skies and set the army of iron men down when the sky lit up with glow of the Bifrost.

One lone blond man landed on the beach. His red cape billowed in the wind, and his big hand—the same one that had once held Mjolnir—now held Gungnir.

Thor stepped out from the smoking runes of the Bifrost and said one single word. "Brother."

Chapter Text

The Norse myths had described Thor as well-muscled, red-headed, with a massive beard. They'd gotten only some of it right. Looking at Thor, Tony could definitely understand why Loki called his brother the Golden Prince of Asgard.

He also seemed completely oblivious to the tension on the beach, since the moment he saw Loki, he smiled blindingly. "Brother!"

Moving far faster than a guy that size should have been able to, Thor rushed to them and engulfed Loki in a big hug.

The expression on Loki's face was quite frankly hilarious. They had both preparing to have a violent confrontation with Asgard's king, but apparently, that wasn't going to happen. Thor was too busy trying to smother his little brother in an embrace to even think about potential conflict.

To be fair, Loki could have probably used his mojo to magic himself away out of Thor's reach, but he didn't. And Tony hurt for Loki, because he could see why Loki had cared so much about this guy. He didn't say it, but it showed in his eyes, the few times he spoke about Asgard.

Loki flailed in a manner that looked ridiculously undignified for someone who was usually so cool and composed. "Thor, stop. Thor!"

"I will absolutely not stop. I have missed you so, brother."

"Is that why you sent your cronies to bring me back in chains?"

Loki's words sliced through Thor's enthusiasm like a knife through butter. Thor broke the embrace, frowning. "What? I did no such thing."

He was eyeing Loki with suspicion, and just like that, Thor's golden image shattered. "You've gotta be shitting me!" Tony snapped. "I thought you were oh so glad to see your brother. Seems like you've already changed your mind."

"My brother is known to lie when it suits him."

"Newsflash, Point Break: Everyone lies when it suits them."

In a peculiar twist, it was Coulson who stepped in. "Your Majesty, I am Agent Coulson. If we could provide any assistance while you are here on Earth, we'd be happy to."

Tony had almost forgotten about the SHIELD agents. Most of them had, indeed, retreated, but Coulson, Natalie and the rest of their group had stayed.

Tony had no idea what to make of this unusual intervention—he had some trouble with the transitions to All-Speak, and note to self: ask Lo about that—but Thor seemed relieved. "We appreciate the offer, mortal. Perhaps you can help clarify the situation. Tell me, what do you know of my brother and Lady Sif's activities here on Midgard?"

Coulson gestured for Natalie to step forward. "This is Agent Romanov, and she was assigned to supervise your brother's activity while on Earth. She can provide this information."

Romanov quickly proceeded to provide her report, which made sense, since it didn't take a genius to figure out that SHIELD needed to do urgent damage control. "We were concerned about his contact with Mr. Stark, but my assessment was that he did not pose an immediate threat for the well-being of our planet. Indeed, the only violence he has committed has been against people who have in one way or another attacked him and Mr. Stark.

"For various reasons, SHIELD had decided to keep a watchful eye from the distance. Upon the arrival of the Lady Sif, Hogun the Grim and Fandral the Dashing, this situation changed, as it was immediately pointed out by the Lady Sif that Loki was incredibly dangerous and a fugitive from Asgard. SHIELD and the World Security Council agreed that we needed to respect your laws and we decided to cooperate with your decision. As such, your envoys were brought here, whereupon they began the conversation with Loki and Mr. Stark. There seemed to be some hostility from the Lady Sif, although we did not intervene, this being an Asgardian matter."

Thor turned toward Sif, his shoulders rigid with tension. "Sif, is this true?"

"I merely wished to fulfill your command, my king, to bring Loki home as you asked."

Thor's lips thinned. "Do not argue semantics with me, Sif. I did not send you to bring him in chains, with a sword at his throat."

Oh. Interesting. It looked like Xena had fucked up.

"So your great watchdog in the sky didn't tell you what your people were doing here?" Tony tsked. And here he'd thought Fury had a problem because Coulson had given Tony a heads up this one time.

"Heimdall is Sif's half-brother," Loki said. "Three quarters of the time, he sees only what he wishes."

"Mind your words, trickster!" Sif snapped.

"Why?" Tony asked. "Why should he? Clearly he's right. Anyone with eyes can see your bro's been keeping secrets. So much for respecting the king, right?"

Thor scowled at his comment. "And who exactly are you, mortal?"

Sif found the perfect chance to draw Thor's attention from her little indiscretion. "He is Loki's consort."

"Loki's... consort?" Thor's eyes flashed with a dire threat. "You dare, mortal? You dare make my brother ergi?"

"I dare a lot of things, Point Break," Tony snapped. "And if you have a problem with that, bring it!"

Within a few minutes, he'd gotten a pretty clear view of how Loki's home life must have been like. Xena forever glowering at him and muttering dire threats, Thor claiming bonds of brotherhood one moment, and then changing his mind a second later when it was convenient.

Loki went so pale he was almost pasty. "Anthony, do not!"

But Thor was already in motion. "I accept your challenge, mortal. I will show you it is a mistake to dishonor the house of Odin."

Uh. What? Tony had the feeling that there had been a little mistake in translation there. Tony was not afraid of Point Break, but neither had he intended to challenge the guy to duel or whatever had happened here.

Clearly, the shit was hitting the fan. Tony dropped his face plate. His HUD flared to life, with JARVIS providing all the necessary data.

"It would seem, Sir, that you might have accidentally started a duel with the Asgardian king."

"Yeah, kind of got that there, JARV. Too late for take backs. Let's show this little prick now why no body messes with Tony Stark."

Clearly, Loki had different ideas. He had already stepped in front of Tony, that cool sword from before in his hand. "Thor! You will not touch him. Hear me now if you ever have. Asgard will burn if you try."

"Brother, not even you can get in the way of holmgang," Thor said.

"Holmgang, Thor? You, against a mortal? Have you lost all sense? No—if you wish to proceed with a challenge against Anthony, you will fight me in his stead."

"Loki, I do not wish to shed your blood on this day. Get out of the way."

"Dude, you've got problems," Tony said. "I thought you wanted to be brother of the century. Now you're threatening to kill him? For what exactly? Being happy?"

"It is not him I wish to harm. You are the threat. You have dishonored him through your vile perversity."

Personally, Tony thought it was far more dishonorable to abandon one's kid brother to be raped by a horse, but he wasn't going to say that and bring Loki and Sleipnir into the conversation. "I find that pretty amusing, giving the Shakespeare in the Park look you're rocking. Tell me, does Mother know you weareth her drapes?"

Thor's shiny gold spear was already starting to grow... well, shinier. The sky began to darken, threatening clouds gathering up above.

It was an impressive display, but Tony knew it could not touch him. Whatever magic Thor wielded, Loki was far more powerful. And Tony had prepared beforehand, making this armor practically impervious to lightning.

In truth, he really wished Loki would let Tony go through with duel. He had a tank missile with Thor's name on it.

They never got the chance to start the fight, because suddenly, a barefoot child was stepping between Loki and Thor. "Well, it seems like Mother was quite right about you, King Thor."

Loki moved so quickly Tony didn't even see him go. "Sleipnir! What are you doing here?"

"Talking," Sleipnir said, his lips twisting into a little smile. "It seemed like you were having so much fun, and I had just had to meet Thor. I've heard a lot about him, after all."

Thor looked at Loki and Sleipnir with obvious curiosity. "And who are you, little one?"

"Sleipnir Lokason Stark."

Tony was grateful the armor covered his face, because he turned into hazy-eyed mess. "JARV, you hear that? Sleipnir Lokason Stark."

"I understand your pride, Sir, but perhaps we should focus on the matter at hand."

"I am focused. Never been more focused in my life."

To illustrate his words, he flew up and landed in front of Sleipnir. "Back off my kid, Point Break. You want to kill me because you're apparently a ridiculous bigot—okay, I get that. But you touch one hair on his head, and I swear, I will nuke your ass back to Assgard."

Given that JARVIS actually had nuclear missiles at his disposal, it wasn't even an empty threat. Of course, deploying nukes in Malibu would sort of defeat the purpose of him wanting to protect his little family, but that wasn't the point here. Besides, it was highly doubtful Thor had any understanding of how nuclear missiles worked.

Indeed, Thor barely acknowledged the threat. "I do not wish to bring a child into the matter. I did not realize your union with the mortal had born fruit, Loki."

"You do not realize many things, Thunderer," Loki said. "Go, now. Leave. We have spoken enough on this day."

But Thor was still looking in Sleipnir's general direction. "Loki... Your child... He is not of mortal blood, is he?"

Why did Thor have to pick this moment to be perceptive? Tony had no idea how Thor could tell, but it irritated him tremendously.

"You heard Sleipy. He's my son. Now back off."

He didn't know what would have happened, if Thor would have indeed backed off, or if he'd have insisted on a duel with no reason other than his own prejudice and arrogance.

But Sif seemed to be angling for a prize in the category of how to be the biggest bitch in the universe, because all of a sudden, she started to laugh. "It is... It is the horse's child."

Sif was laughing so hard her entire body was shaking. "No wonder you left, Loki. I hear Jotnar horses have quite a lot of stamina, and that steed looked particularly strong. But spawning something like that... Oh, it's too much even for you."

Green seidr flourished around Loki, a savage snarl on his lips. His blade swirled with threatening black.

Tony's unibeam was ready, all systems targeting Sif.

And yet, Sleipnir was faster.

His form blurred, and all of a sudden, the beautiful eight-legged colt was there. He leaped past Thor, straight at Sif. Before anyone could move a muscle, the two of them blinked out of existence. It happened so fast neither Loki nor Tony could do anything about it.

Loki roared at the skies. "Sleipnir! Come back here right now!"

Thor apparently had no sense of self-preservation, because he had to choose this exact moment to address the elephant—or horse—in the room. He also clearly didn't think Sleipnir was a threat to Sif, because he didn't address that at all. "Brother, I did not know there was a child."

"You knew enough, Thor," Loki screeched, his dark hair crackling with energy. "I know you did. Heimdall was watching, and so was the All-Father. He must have seen it. He could have sent someone to help. If it had been you, he would have never let it happen. But me? The trickster, the ergi? A fitting punishment perhaps."

"Brother..."

"I'm not your brother," Loki replied. "I never was."

Thor looked lost. "Do not say such things, Loki. I know I have made mistakes. If I could fix them—"

"This is not about you, Thor," Loki cut him off. "I'm simply not your brother. I am not Odinson, or even Friggajarson. Ask the All-Father. He will tell you."

There was another crack of lightning and Sleipnir emerged, hooves still glowing. The magic around Loki instantly settled. "Welcome back, my darling," he said, taking a few deep breaths. "Did you forget your package somewhere?"

Sleipnir flipped his mane, like he was shaking his head. He trotted to Loki's side and allowed Loki to run his fingers over his glossy silver coat. Tony did the same, because, he seriously needed to touch his kid after everything that had happened.

And then, Sleipnir's image flickered, and he turned back into the boy that sometimes crawled into Loki and Tony's bed in the morning. He stayed in Loki and Tony's embrace, clinging tightly to them.

"I took her to Helheim," he said with a strange expression—a smirk that was Loki all over, but that also held a heavy hint of uncertainty. "I thought Queen Hel would have fun with her, and I had not seen her and Fenrir in so long. We really must visit more. She said to bring Father too, that he will be safe, under the protection of the Queen of the Dead."

Sleipnir had clearly done all this without really thinking about it, and it was only now that he realized how much Loki had panicked. Loki knelt and kissed Sleipnir's forehead. "It was a good choice, but please don't run off like that again."

"Yeah, kid. You gave us quite a scare." And Tony still had a bum heart, even if Loki had removed the shrapnel.

Apparently, what Sleipnir had done was a pretty big deal, because Thor had grown white. "Loki, you must return Sif at once."

"Do you see me hiding her anywhere, Thor? You heard what Sleipnir said. If you want your warrior, you must go to Helheim to discuss it with Queen Hel."

Thor's hand clenched around the fancy gold spear. "So be it. Fandral, Hogun, with me. Heimdall, open the Bifrost!"

For a few moments, everyone was silent. They were all processing what had happened. Finally, Coulson snapped from his trance and approached them. "So... Did you just start an interrealm war, Mr. Stark?"

"Dunno, Son of Coul. Do you by any chance have in your possession an alien artifact that belongs to me?"

The expression of Coulson's face was almost as enjoyable as the knowledge of the torment Sif would be enjoying during her impromptu vacation in Deadville. Almost, but not quite.

Tony stole a look at Loki. For the moment, he didn't care about whatever artifact SHIELD had been keeping hidden. The Aesir would come back and likely take it, and that was fine with him. As long as they didn't try to take Loki again, he didn't give a fuck.

It wouldn't hurt to look at SHIELD's research on it, but that was for later. Right now, the only thing he cared about was his family, and the ring he had secreted away in their luggage.

Loki probably already knew about it. There was no way to keep secrets from him. But that was fine, Tony thought. Loki was still here. The Aesir were gone. The WSC had folded like a castle of cards.

And Tony knew better than to think life would be easy from now on, but somehow, they'd figure it out. He had his chaotic little family, and that was the only thing that mattered.

****

The Son of Coul and the Lady Romanov stayed for a little while even after the departure of the Aesir and that of the rest of the SHIELD forces. Anthony had decided to extend the invitation as acknowledgment of the Son of Coul's assistance, although he did so with fake reluctance.

Once they were inside, safely behind Loki's wards, Anthony said, "So, thanks for the heads up, although I have to wonder... Why did you call us?"

"It was Agent Romanov's idea," the Son of Coul said. "That, and well... I didn't much like the Asgardians."

Sleipnir perked up in interest at the comment. He eyed the flame-haired agent with a curious, slightly suspicious look. "Why did you offer to help us, Lady Romanov?"

She smiled, a good mask—but a mask nonetheless. "Maybe I just like you."

Loki hummed thoughtfully. How strange. That was not actually a lie. She did like Sleipnir.

When it came to lying, there was one thing that remained valid no matter where Loki went. There were always reasons for a lie. And there were always big reasons why a person would learn to be an incredible liar.

The Lady Romanov had experience with masks. She moved with the efficiency of a warrior, but she could also adopt the guise of a seductress.

She had been trained for this—quite possibly from a very young age, quite possibly in unpleasant ways. She did not like getting children hurt.

It was a pretty big leap, but Loki was fairly certain he was correct. He would have to analyze her behavior more in the near future.

He pushed back the thought when the Son of Coul addressed him again. "Director Fury will want to know exactly what we can expect from Helheim and from Asgard after today's events. Further, we would appreciate that you fill in the blanks in the parts of the conversation we could not understand."

"What Sif said isn't really important. It was all about her personal grudge on me." Loki shrugged. "As for Thor, well, he seems to have a friendly approach toward your world." He'd even used All-Speak the whole time he'd been there, and that was a clear sign he meant the mortals well.

"Asgard has no reason to retaliate against you," he added. "The exchange was between me and them. Thor will not lash out against you mortals for my refusal to bend my knee to his whims."

As far as Loki could tell, Thor had changed some since their youth. He suspected things would have gone better if not for the ridiculous Aesir prejudice against same-sex relationships. Oh well. It was not too great of a loss. Besides, all things considered, it could have gone much worse.

"Of course," he continued, "my stay here is a separate matter from the artifact they've come here to retrieve. The Tesseract, yes?"

"I'm afraid I'm not at liberty to say."

"I'm calling bullshit, Coulson," Anthony said. "Your people cut me out of something that's rightfully mine. Now I don't take that very kindly, especially not when I know you're going have to return it. So I want access to every bit of research you've done on it. It's mine."

Loki took that as his cue to offer the Son of Coul a little reminded. "And to answer your previous question, Queen Hel is a close friend. We spent quite some time there when Sleipnir was younger. As for what you can expect... Well, she holds dominion over the equivalent of an afterlife. I'll let you be creative."

"I see." The Son of Coul offered Loki his bland little smile. "You have interesting friends, Mr. Loptr."

"What can I say? I lead an interesting life. And it pays to have friends in high places."

Their conversation was suddenly interrupted when Sleipnir decided to intervene. He jumped onto the Lady Romanov, making her eyes widen with shock that for once, was not entirely fake.

On instinct, she tried to dislodge him, but he clung to her, and she couldn't do anything about it. Loki was, in fact, surprised she was holding her balance so well given Sleipnir's weight. "You are an interesting mortal," Sleipnir said, grinning. "Tell me... What is the source of your seidr?"

"Sleipnir, us humans don't have magic, remember?" Anthony tsked. "Now come on, let Agent Romanov go before you break poor Son of Coul. I need him to get my shiny new data."

"Yes, Father."

Sleipnir pouted, but released the Lady Romanov and stepped back, leaning against Loki. He didn't say anything, but Loki could tell what he was thinking. Their flame-haired liar was quite interesting indeed.

The Son of Coul and the Lady Romanov left shortly after that. Just because he could, Loki added a little tracking spell on them, something simple and discreet which mortal tech could not read. As Sleipnir ran into the kitchen, zeroing in on the fridge, Loki asked,

"Do you really think they'll give you information on the artifact?"

Anthony shrugged. "It depends, and it's not like we have a lot of time at our disposal. Point Break will want it back soon."

"That doesn't mean I can't sneak you into a SHIELD facility, you know." Loki smirked. "I know better than to believe this is over. It would be best for us to be ready."

Anthony shot him a look full of depth and meaning. He didn't actually address Loki's offer. Instead, he said, "I love you, Lo."

"And I love you, Anthony."

The 'let's do this' glowed between them like a promise, like a vow, and Loki truly wouldn't have had it any other way.

Chapter Text

The throne room of the Queen of the Dead was not dark, nor cold. No, it was so much more than that. It was shadow and bone and power, and it frightened Sif in a way nothing ever had.

The horse had dropped her there, claimed a hug from the queen, a nuzzle from her pet, and then departed without looking back. And now, here Sif stood, in front of Hel's throne, under the watchful eye of the massive wolf that acted as her guardian.

"Do you know, Lady Sif, that Life and Death are fundamentally different?" Hel pressed her hands—one flesh, one bone—together, as if to illustrate the difference. "They are the two forces that control the cosmos, but they are not direct opposites."

Sif struggled to gather her courage. She was a warrior of Asgard. She would not falter, even in front of the Queen of the Dead.

"I am not sure I understand."

"Indeed." Hel's smile was crooked and gruesome, and yet, somehow familiar. "Let me explain it this way. The living worlds, starting with Golden Asgard, to the mortal Midgard... They have countless mirrors. Many worlds, within the same one. Worlds with different Lady Sifs, different Thors, different Anthony Starks. But not so with Helheim. There is one Helheim. The dead are all equal. In death, everything is simple."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Hel smiled again, petting the massive dog with her flesh hand. "Because I wanted you to understand and perhaps, answer the question you have yet to ask. You see, my dear Lady Sif, in one of these mirror worlds, I had the honor of being Loki's daughter."

The shadows in the room grew, as if Hel's presence was magnified, a thousand times greater than anything Sif had ever seen, more powerful and terrible than the All-Father himself. Sif felt like an ant.

"Fenrir here is my brother. I retrieved him from the enclosure the All-Father had prepared for him. Jor was free, in his own way, in Midgard's oceans. But Sleipnir and my own father... Them, I could never save."

Hel left her throne of bone, gliding on the steps, shadows underneath her feet. "And now, here you are. You, who laugh at his pain. What should I do to you, I wonder?"

She walked around Sif, and the air her shifted and grew colder. Even if it meant losing sight of the Queen of the Dead, Sif stubbornly kept her eyes forward. That wasn't necessarily wise, since it meant she had to focus on the massive wolf.

But as Fenrir licked his chops and growled, it was almost comforting to know that she would die in a way that she could understand.

Or so Sif hoped, but Hel was already circling back to face her and shaking her head. "No, Fen. That would be too easy." Hel hummed. "I believe instead, I will give the Lady Sif a choice."

"A choice?" Sif stammered.

"Indeed. You see, dear Lady Sif, you are the one whose resentment led for my father's lips to be sewn. You and those foolish dwarves, but well... They've already learned the error of their ways. And even so, after all this time, you still resent him, for what was nothing more than a childish prank. You who pride yourself to be above all women of Asgard cling so foolishly to empty vanity. And now, you find amusement in learning of my father's tragedy. And so, here are your options."

"I can give you to Fenrir, make you the mother of monsters as my father was called in the past. You can carry many young, and I would make good use of them for my army."

Despite herself, Sif took a horrified step back. "What? You cannot..."

"Cannot have an animal violate you? Actually, Fen is far more than an animal, far more than my father had. But that's irrelevant. I assure you, despite the differences in your bodies, my power could make the two of you compatible, at least... sexually. So, I absolutely can do it."

"I would rather die," Sif blurted out.

"Oh, I know that. But as much as this is the realm of the dead, that is not the second option." She waved a hand, and a black box appeared in front of Sif. "Go ahead. Open it."

Sif did and froze, understanding.

She didn't know long she stared at the black needle and thread, but she was snapped out of her trance when Hel's flesh hand landed on her arm. "Well? Have you made your choice?"

There was no choice, not really. "The needle," Sif said.

"So be it. Brokk. Come. I have a task for you."

Sif blinked, and the dwarf was there—the same one who had sewn Loki's mouth shut. "I believe you know what to do from here, Brokk," Hel said, sitting back on her throne.

There was no Thor to hold her down, but Sif still could not move. She could only scream—until at last her screams were silenced by the thread, and the only sound Sif could hear was that of Brokk's breathing.

When it was done, Hel started to laugh.

"You should have gone with the other choice, Lady Sif. I would have never inflicted you upon Fenrir. I am not Odin."

Sif had not thought her situation could get any worse until that moment, but there it was. Pain was something she could handle, even this unbelievable, throbbing agony, but this? She felt... stupid. Defeated.

Hel had practically told her beforehand. She had said that she was Loki's daughter, the daughter of the Liesmith. But Sif had been too stupid and blind to see.

She was still standing there, frozen in shock and horror when Thor came in. Hel still lounged on her throne, petting her brother's dark fur. Brokk's ghost hovered over her shoulder, blank-faced.

Thor took one look at Sif and choked. "Queen Hel... What is this?"

"It is many things," Hel replied, "depending on how you look at it. Justice, perhaps. Perhaps petty vengeance, or a whim. But it was the Lady Sif's choice."

"Sif's choice?"

"Indeed."

Thor stared. "You must undo this at once."

"Must I?" Hel's expression turned into something ugly and frightful. In that moment, she truly looked like the face of Death."You cannot order me, King Thor. I am Queen in Helheim, and you are here on my sufferance. Now go, before I choose to take more from your warrior than just her speaking voice, and before my patience with the throne of Asgard grows thinner than it already is."

Sif didn't want to go back to Asgard in this state, but she wanted to stay here even less. And no one, not even Thor, had power over Hel. She set her hand on Thor's shoulder.

Thor nodded jerkily at the Queen of the Dead. "We will take our leave then."

As tense as a bowstring, he supported Sif with one massive arm, a half-embrace made even more bitter by the fact that it was the closest she and Thor had been in a while. She focused on him, on Thor's familiar heat, all the while wondering if the chill of Helheim would ever leave her bones.

****

As the massive doors of Hel's throne room closed behind the Thunderer and his warrior, Loki let the illusion fall. "Thank you for that, my queen. I needed it, I think."

Brokk's figure cracked, morphing into that of the true queen of Helheim. "You were more merciful than I thought you would be. But... It was not as satisfying as you hoped."

Loki smiled bitterly."Is it foolish that it still hurts that he never held me like that, not when it happened to me?"

"It is not foolish," Hel replied quietly. "He is your brother."

"He is not." Loki stared at his arm, the same one the Jotnar warrior had grabbed in the disastrous jaunt on the frozen planet. Even now, it was still blue. "He never was."

He got up, freeing the throne for its rightful owner. It was almost funny that even after acknowledging her disdain for his tricks, Sif had never realized he and Hel had changed places right next to her, when she'd been stubbornly staring forward and trying to seem brave.

Then again, Sif couldn't have possibly guessed what was happening, especially since Helheim wasn't exactly conducive to maintaining illusions. Even Loki had trouble with them, and had only managed this time around through heavy usage of seidr and Hel's own power.

Loki sighed. Sif didn't matter anymore. "I think... This is the best I could expect," he said. "I should have never given Sleipnir up, not for them, not for an illusion."

In a different world, Frigga had come to her son. It had been an astral projection, nothing more, but it had provided the anchor Loki had needed.

He had set the colt at the All-Father's feet.

He had never known what Sleipnir could become, not until it was much too late.

Centuries later, he had led the Jotnar into Asgard to stop Thor's coronation. He had followed Thor into Jotunheim and disaster.

He had destroyed a planet in the vain attempt to pretend it had not been all for nothing, that he had not sacrificed his child for a lie. After 'No, Loki', he had let go.

Hel had caught him. And now, here he was, meeting a Thor and a Sif different from the ones he knew—different, and yet, so very similar.

"I am glad," he said, "that at least one version of me made the right choice. That he and Sleipnir will be happy with the Man of Iron."

"They will be. My merchant is a good man."

"He's not actually your merchant, you know," Loki teased her.

Hel snorted. "Mistress Death won't mind my claim on him, I think. There's plenty of him to go around."

Her words referred to more than just Mistress Death. Loki thought of what Hel had shown him of the Man of Iron. He could have had that too, but his Anthony already belonged to his chatelaine.

"It is not too late, Loki. It is never too late."

"Yes, it is," Loki replied. "He is a hero. I am a killer, a Destroyer of Worlds. But thank you for your words nevertheless."

It was only much later, as he sat in Sleipnir's Helheim stables, painstakingly attempting to teach his son to shift, that Loki realized Hel could not lie.

And maybe he would have asked her about it, would have asked her if she truly believed there was some hope left for him, but he did not.

She came to him herself, a whisper of a dark cloak and a bone hand in Sleipnir's mane. "I need you to do something for me," she said simply. "I require an envoy."

"Say no more." Loki grinned. "I know exactly what you mean."

****

That night, a figure cloaked in black haunted the sleep of the rulers of two realms.

King Thor never could remember what the figure said. He just remembered the warning, and the fact that Loki and his consort were under Helheim's protection.

As for Earth's rulers... None of them spoke of what they saw. But the next morning, Tony Stark's status miraculously changed into that of a possible consultant for the Avengers Initiative. All operations to counter Stark's cyber attack ceased.

The WSC could do many things, but at the end of the day, they were also aware of their own mortality. They did not want the Queen of the Dead as their enemy.

As for Alexander Pierce... Well, he wondered how he could use this. He stared at the frozen face of the Asset and considered the progress on Phase Two.

One thing was certain—the entity that had been once known as Loptr would be a game changer for Hydra's plan of world domination.