Chapter Text
Loki, Tony was quick to realise, breathed magic. Not literally, at least Tony didn't think literally, but he used magic like others used clothing. Instinctively, constantly (unless they were nudists or something), and as successfully as Tony's tailors would like to make the public believe was actually possible with the wonder that was fashion.
It was little things mostly; a spell to keep his tea constantly hot, a wave of his hand to clean up a spill, a twitch of his eyebrows that made kitchen utensils and ingredients float all around him so he could make himself dinner or something. Little things that were there to aid him and nothing more. Little things that were innocent.
It fascinated Tony; watching the dance of onions as they tumbled lazily through the air until Loki deemed them ready to use, the flick of his wrist when he wanted something that was across the room, the way he barely even looked up whenever he did so, far too comfortable in his own skin that he most likely didn't even know he was doing it.
But oh, he was doing it alright, and the proof lay in the lines of equation after equation JARVIS gathered and pooled into Project Jade. It was all raw data for now, incomprehensible for the most part, and it needed to be sifted through and cleaned up, translated into something he and JARVIS could understand before they could even think of doing anything else with it. But it was more than they'd had in a year, ever since the failed invasion of the world, ever since Tony flew a nuke into outer space and somehow survived to live another day and get obsessed about magic.
Yinsen probably hadn't meant this when he'd told Tony to do something meaningful with his life. But magic! Magic that was real and not dumb and childish like Harry Potter or the shit that Strange did. Real magic, scary magic, magic that was as terrifying and beautiful as mother nature herself.
Tony was positively tingly with anticipation.
Thor was out for the day with Steve under his arm and both of them excited about something to do with wicked witches. Bruce would be back the next day, Tony having successfully talked him out of disappearing into some rural part of the earth and instead into doing productive things for humanity with Tony’s (considerable) money in the Californian labs of Stark Industries instead. He wasn't sure how exactly he got Bruce to come back, but there was that saying with the gift and the horse, and Tony sometimes liked to take these things as sound advice and think himself clever for it.
That, and he was pretty sure JARVIS had something to do with it.
Add in the fact that the spies were still under Mama Fury's nest, and all you got in the end was an entire tower that was Tony and Loki's only. Minus the people that actually worked somewhere in the lower floors since they weren't important, but Tony always ignored them anyway so who cared?
Right. Tony did. Because Loki was casually magicking some wicked looking knives in a lazy circle above Tony's head.
God, what he'd do for a spy or two right about now. Or a captain. Or the Hulk, yes, the Hulk sounded great right about now.
"Um. Hi?"
Loki gave him an eerily pleasant smile, one that would possibly look more at home on a dead fish's face than on Loki's. "Stark," he greeted Tony back, getting up from his seat on the kitchen stool and casually walking towards him. "Tell me, what is this... 'bet' you have with your friends?"
Oops. Busted.
"Uh, how about getting these knives out of my face and I'll tell you?"
Loki came to a stop right in front of him, separated only by the inch of space the knifes needed to turn in lazy, menacing circles. "Oh, are they bothering you? Forgive me, I hadn't noticed."
The knives didn't stop circling, and Loki didn't stop smiling.
Tony, on the other hand, was feeling very creeped out here. Plus, wow, Loki was actually pretty damn tall. Tony had known, sure, but he'd never stood so close to the guy before to realise how tall, exactly, and especially not out of his suit and platform shoes. Tony felt small next to the guy, and that was just making the dead smile on Loki's face that much creepier.
"I should, uh, go, work?" He said lamely, taking a single step back. When Loki made no (threatening) move towards him, Tony took another, and another, until he was all but out of the kitchen and in the living room. "Yeah," he said, more confident now that there was some distance between them. If Loki decided to throw those knives at him, Tony could - theoretically - dodge out of the way. Which was good to know since there was a chance JARVIS was still angry enough about the lightning thing the other day that the AI would delay the defence systems just a second later than usual to give Tony a scare.
JARVIS did things like that. He was passive aggressive that way.
That's when the wall to ceiling windows shattered, and five ninjas suddenly dropped in.
"Security breach," JARVIS said politely, slots in the walls, floor, and coffee table opening up to reveal repulsor-tech weapons of every kind imaginable Tony had dreamed up during an insomniac work marathon. "This is private property, and you are trespassing. Please exit the premises this instant."
The ninjas - and they really were ninjas, Tony thought hysterically, dressed exactly like ones - paused, looking at each other uncertainly for a moment. Then one of them - the leader, maybe? - bravely straightened up and demanded in a slightly wobbly voice, "G-Give us the cube, Stark, and you shall not be hurt."
The cube, right; the one they'd pulled right out of a dragon robot's stomach. And these ninjas were no doubt the ones that had attacked Asgard, because, for one, they looked exactly like how Thor had described them, aka ninjas.
Tony laughed.
"Oh my god," he wheezed, bent over in half, struggling to breathe. "I thought Thor was fucking with me, I thought he was exaggerating, or pulling a prank, but he was right. What on earth are you wearing, Jesus fucking Christ, that's terrible. Is that- is that a sai? What are you, Raphael? JARVIS, please tell me you're recording this, this is gold."
The ninjas gave each other uncertain looks again, looking wholly unprepared for JARVIS' security features and Tony Stark - dressed in nothing but a ratty wifebeater and sweatpants, yet no shoes - laughing at them. Then when Loki walked in, they literally did a double take, body going tense with alarm, and the leader hissed, "You."
That's when the sai-wielding ninja threw one of his three-pronged weapons at them, and all hell broke loose.
Diving behind a seat, Tony covered his head with his arms, hearing the familiar whine of repulsor technology charging to full capacity and letting loose. Somehow, Loki ended up sitting beside him, a clueless, befuddled expression on his porcelain face. He gave Tony a considering look, as if re-evaluating him somehow, and said, "Safer than you'll ever be, indeed."
It sounded like he was quoting something - the words sounded vaguely familiar, like if Tony had said it himself, once. Maybe he had, who knew, but he was currently more worried about just how much damage JARVIS was inflicting on his living room. JARVIS would take the opportunity to get rid of some of the stuff he particularly didn't like - like the afghan over the coach Pepper had bought two years ago, he absolutely loathed it. Pepper would be so pissed.
"So, are they the ones who attacked Asgard?" Tony asked, shouting a little over the sound of JARVIS proactively expressing his frustration.
Loki nodded, grimacing a little, and peered over the side of the sofa before looking back, skin a few shades paler. Tony opened his mouth to ask, but shut it again when the sound of Tony Stark designed weaponry suddenly went silent.
"Threat neutralised." JARVIS said sweetly into the eerie silence.
Loki, looking slightly nauseas, finally answered, "They were."
Tony snorted.
#
A quick head count (and only a head count - detached limbs not included) resulted in five ninjas, one of which JARVIS had grudgingly left alive for their questioning pleasure.
Loki quickly pointed out that thirty had attacked Asgard.
"Meaning that at least twenty five are out there somewhere," Tony summarised with a frown, pinching a patch of fabric that was once a mustard coloured afghan while Dummy kept a stern arm (clutching a fire extinguisher) on the remaining, unconscious, ninja. "Why exactly did they attack Asgard?"
Loki carefully made his way to the kitchen, distaste visible on his face as he avoided red stains and vaguely humanoid objects. "There are many reasons one might wish to attack Asgard; fame, power, or any of the abundance of treasure beneath the castle ground."
"So basically you've got no clue."
Loki gave him an unimpressed look.
Holding up both hands in a sign of peace, Tony followed after him into the kitchen, sitting down on one of the stools surrounding the breakfast island. "They have to have targeted a specific something," he tried, watching curiously as Loki casually returned to cooking whatever the hell he'd been cooking in the first place. "Nobody just attacks anyone for the shit of it, especially not someone tons stronger."
"We shall ask once the mortal awakens," Loki agreed, putting an end to that line of questioning.
Tony argued with himself whether or not to push it, because something didn’t seem right about this, but then Loki waved a hand and suddenly the kitchen and living room were sparkling clean again and kitchen items were floating once more, so Tony shut up.
Because magic.
#
By the time the rest of the team had heard about what had happened, the only ninja alive (which turned out to be the sai wielding one, to Tony’s greatest glee), was slowly starting to drift awake. Slowly, because it seemed like he had a concussion and wasn’t quite with them yet.
Tony picked up one of his sais, admiring the sleek weapon, and poked the tallest point into the ninja’s un-ninja-like sport shoe.
"What's your name?" He asked curiously, peering at the dark, groggy eyes that drowsily blinked at him.
The man hesitantly answered, "Toru."
Japanese, Tony noted, how stereotypically typical. "Why did you guys attack Asgard?"
Toru the sai wielding ninja took the hand Tony offered and let himself be pulled into sitting up. DUMMY whirred and raised the fire extinguisher up threateningly.
"The... I do not know how to explain it, or for what reason they may have had, but it was the Tengu that ordered us."
At Tony's raised eyebrows, the middle-aged man grimaced knowingly and nodded. "Yes," he said wearily, "Imagine our own surprise."
"What are these... Tengu he speaks off?" Loki scowled, glaring down his aristocratic nose at the ninja.
“Japanese mythology,” Tony supplied, not noticing the strange looks the rest of the team gave each other at his knowledge. “Live in forests and kidnap little boys and stuff. Quite fascinating, actually.”
Loki stared at him for a moment, looking like he couldn't believe the words that had come out of Tony’s mouth. A common expression, to be honest, so Tony wasn't really fazed by it. Mostly, Tony wanted to know more.
“I’m guessing you mean, like, actual Tengu’s, and not costumed people calling themselves that,” Tony said to their hostage curiously, bending down at the knees to be more level with Toru. “So where the hell did they come from? And did they explain what they wanted exactly?”
“From the mountains,” Toru answered, surprisingly blunt about it all. No doubt because he just wanted to get back to his presumably normal life that didn't include Tengus and wrathful AIs. “And all they said was that they needed something beneath Asgard’s golden throne. A sword. Big and gold. We wouldn’t miss it.”
Tony raised an eyebrow at that, also dimly regretting crouching the way he was now because dear god his knees weren’t spring chickens anymore, when Bruce turned to Thor and asked, “How many big and gold swords are there in the vaults?”
Thor, expression stormy, frowned down at Bruce as he replied, “Three, last that I recall.”
Helpfully, Toru provided, “It has a hilt made of interlocking daggers one can pull out to stab your foe with.”
“… Ah.” Thor replied, expression going twisted. “That one.”
Loki looked equally unnerved.
Coulson cleared his throat in the ensuing silence, eyeing Loki and Thor with that placid expression of his that hid hideous secrets and kinky kinks (Tony knew it did, okay, he just knew it). Barton shadowed his shoulder, hands still locked around his bow and arrow, though not aimed at the moment. He and Rogers still looked a bit queasy after reviewing the footage of the tape. Tony didn’t know why though. Maybe they liked Pepper’s afghan too? “And what would the purpose of this sword be, exactly?”
“A weapon,” Loki began, sharing a dark look with Thor, “But also a key.”
“One to the dungeon of a most powerful foe.” Thor agreed, him and Loki sharing a message none of the others were privy to.
And on the floor, still sprawled out and concussed, Toru nodded, expression world weary and absolutely done with this shit. “Indeed,” he agreed, “A key. The key to their Queen.”
And then conveniently passed out.
DUMMY angrily sprayed him in response.
#
The core of magic was a light purple, lilac and primrose and other fancy words for what was, again, essentially light purple.
Tony stared at it in fascination, tilting it this way and that, watching the reflective surface throw off light like a diamond.
Project JADE, gloriously open and magnificent in its wealth, grew only larger in the core’s presence.
“Sir, Colonel Rhodes is on his way down to the workshop.”
Rhodey? Rhodey!
Tony carefully placed the core in the waiting grip, the three pincer like claws gently gripping the core and lowering to be swallowed whole by his table. Project JADE equally folded itself up into a neat little folder, tucking itself safely away in the deepest, darkest pits of JARVIS’ machinations.
Behind him, the workshop doors slid open, the noiseless hiss a precursor to Rhodey’s loud, “Tony, you little shit! Come out here and face me!”
Tony grinned, delight and sheer pleasure fit to bursting as he spun around and made a beeline for his best friend, jumping gleefully into his arms and wrapping all four limbs around him like an octopus. “Honey bunch!”
Grumbling lies upon lies about Tony’s weight, Rhodey wrapped his arms under Tony’s thighs and steered him right out of the workshop and back into the elevator, which was a dirty trick because Tony was still working, thank you very much, how dare you platypus.
“Shush,” Rhodey told him dismissively, still holding him in his arms as Tony squirmed in shocked betrayal. “Food, drinks, and big boy discussions.”
Oh no.
Oh no.
Big boy discussions.
“Are you getting married?” Tony scowled, placing his hands on Rhodey’s shoulder to lean back far enough away to glare at the man. “Are you going to ask me to just stand aside and let some hussy take you from me? Who is she? Where did you meet her? What’s her bank account number?”
Rhodey rolled his eyes, rolled his eyes so hard his entire head moved with the motion, but didn’t jostle Tony the slightest as the elevator doors dinged open and spat them out into the common floor. “No, I’m not getting married, you demented child. And even if I did what makes you think I’d tell you. No, absolutely not. We’d have had to been married for a minimum of five years with two kids before I’d introduced you to her.”
Tony responded to that with a noise of sheer disgust that had three heads popping out from the kitchen.
One: Thor. Blonde hair light and fluffy and blue eyes wide in obvious joy as he shouted, “RHODES! WELL MET!”
Two: Loki. Curious but also confused at the sight of an unknown individual carrying Tony around like he weighed nothing (because he did, he watched his figure and had absolutely not put on weight, shut the fuck up, Rhodey!).
And three: Bruce. Eyes taking them in, noticing who they were, and dismissing them in one go. Completely unaffected by the image that they made.
“Brucey!” Tony cried to the retreating figure of his science bro. “Brucey, you wouldn’t betray me like this would you? You wouldn’t marry some useless person who wouldn’t be as amazing to you as I am, right? Nobody would treat you as well as I do! Bruuuuuceee!”
Thor laughed, bright and joyful, utterly amused, whereas Loki looked alarmed. Bruce just sighed a world weary sigh and nodded agreeably to Tony’s perfectly legitimate concerns. “No, Tony,” he said agreeably, “I won’t abandon you or leave you behind if I end up finding a fulfilling relationship with someone else.”
What? W…hat? No. That wasn’t what Tony meant. That wasn’t what Tony meant at all.
“And on that big boy sentence,” Rhodey swung in for the kill, “Words. You and I. About acceptable things and non-acceptable things. Feelings.” He emphasised the last with great relish and a shake, Tony clutching him with a yelp. “Feelings, Tony. Of the deep, emotional, kind.”
What was this? What had he done to deserve this? But Rhodey’s arms were iron around his bottom, holding him up and keeping him secure. Bruce’s face was amused but sincere, even as he returned to chopping up whatever he was chopping and humming agreeably to whatever Thor was telling him about.
He’d never seen those two talking actually – the Hulk made it almost impossible for Thor and Bruce to be around, because the Hulk didn’t like Thor, for whatever reason – but today they seemed at ease in each other’s presence, navigating the kitchen like they’d been doing it for years. Like they were a team.
Tony grumbled, headbutting Rhodey’s shoulder and ignoring the victorious huff Rhodey gave in return.
He had no idea what the conversation would be about, but whatever.
“As long as I get cuddles.”
Rhodey turned that around, mused on it for a while, then finally nodded. “You’ve got a deal, tin man.”
“You’re a tin man too.” Tony grumbled.
Rhodey’s laugh was only slightly mollifying.
#
James “Rhodey” Rhodes, Air Force colonel, military liaison to Stark Industries, was often ignored when standing next to Tony Stark. Many people called them ‘long term partners’ with their thoughts to business, but very little remembered the truth. The truth of a fourteen year old Tony Stark meeting the first person (and the only person) to ever stick by him come hell or high water in a tiny alcove of the MIT library.
Basically, people forgot Rhodey was a genius too.
And it hadn’t taken long for him to hear about what had happened.
Namely, Loki mentioning that he’d tried to mind-control Tony and JARVIS.
His clever mind had pieced together what he’d known about the events, told second hand to him by Tony and viewed first hand through JARVIS’ video feed. It helped that he’d known about the arc reactor to begin with, understood it in a way no other person (other than perhaps Yinsen) did, and had been there for either the creation or the continuous source of development for JARVIS’ and the baby bots’.
Meaning, he’d understood that the arc reactor had somehow protected them both. Otherwise…
Needless to say, he wasn’t too pleased about the fact that Tony had kept any of that (all of that) to himself.
“And, oh,” Rhodey murmured, the words dark and threatening in the alcove their bodies made together. “Look, the person of my ire is right here before my own eyes.”
They were sat in a loveseat (that’s what it essentially was, thank you very much), well engaged in the promised cuddles, Tony well and truly ensconced in Rhodey’s far larger (and firmer) body. Tony had a cup of deliciously cool juice Thor or Bruce had handed to him (he couldn’t remember which), straw in his mouth as he tried to ignore the feelings Rhodey kicked up in him with his dumb words.
So what if his best friend had run out on his life-long job after Agent Agent had told him the truth, needing to physically check that Tony was alright? So what if Rhodey was promising that he would have- would have done impossible things, to save Tony if Tony’s eyes had been blue?
He glanced at the rest of the room, getting jostled a little as Rhodey adjusted, saw Loki seated awkwardly on the sofa, trying to pay attention to what was happening in the kitchen but obviously having caught the menacing aura coming from Rhodey, and found himself blurting out, “Speaking of eyes.”
And that underestimated genius sparkled in those dark eyes as Rhodey put two and two together and got quantum physics.
His best friend grimaced, displeasure obvious in his face and voice as he mulled it over and finally replied, “I’m still gonna punch him in the dick.”
“Rhodey,” Tony snorted, always enjoying it when he was being the responsible one in their dynamic. “Thor would be sad.”
Grumbling, Rhodey relented, because he was friends with Thor and nobody wanted to be the guy that punched their friend’s little brother in the dick.
“Fine,” he finally conceded, wriggling around and disturbing Tony’s very comfortable perch to dig out his phone. Starkphone, latest generation – Tony nodded in grim approval. If Rhodey had had any less he would have punched him in the dick. “But I reserve the right to be the first in line if he tries anything iffy. After JARVIS, that is.”
From the phone, voice equally low and dark, “Quite reasonable, Colonel.”
“You’re both insane,” Tony snorted, giving in when Rhodey made eyes at his drink and shoving the straw at him. “Now stop scaring the baby god and say hi.”
From the corner of his eyes, Loki went stiff at having been caught, then awkwardly gave them an acknowledging nod.
“You and I,” Rhodey told the god, pointing a finger at him and then himself. “Words. Strong ones. Many of them. Soon.”
Loki, looking greatly confused and unnerved, nodded slowly.
Seemingly pleased with this, Rhodey nodded back and returned to his StarkPhone, tapping at it until the coffee table sprung up with a recording of the ninja’s that had attacked the day before.
“So with that done,” he concluded easily, stealing Tony’s straw and sucking the rest of his juice away, ignoring Tony’s angered squawk, “What’s next – oh shut up, Tones, shhh – with the ninja’s? They stole the key, right? So shouldn’t we, or at least you,” a pointed look at Loki and a head tilt at the kitchen where Thor was describing a place called Sakaar to Bruce, “Make sure the dungeon for said key is, oh, I don’t know, still closed?”
Loki’s lips pulled down at that, a thoughtful grimace as his eyes shifted away from them. Suspiciously. His eyes shifted away from them suspiciously.
Tony perked right the fuck up.
“You’ve already checked, haven’t you?”
The shifty eyes shift continued to shift.
“And the ‘most powerful foe’, the Queen, isn’t there anymore, is she?” Rhodey finished, equally perked up.
Slowly, palms out as if to calm them, Loki answered, “… No.”
Well. Shit.
#
The Queen of the Tengu, the ‘most powerful foe’ that had been locked beneath Vanaheim’s greatest temple, built millennia ago, was home to a ‘most powerful foe’ that neither gods knew anything about.
“She is said to lead nine warriors, each strong enough to fell a realm on their lonesome, and together, strong enough to destroy the realms.” Thor narrated, the coffee table now overloaded with rice and curries and five different types of meat. “None know of where she hails from, or what her goal is aside from utter destruction. It was only through Father and his Father’s great sacrifice that she was brought to justice, and imprisoned with the great key to ensure the nine realm’s survival.”
“Well that sounds horrible,” Tony noted, still snuggled fully in Rhodey’s lap and refusing to get up. He’d compromised by having a mega huge dish with a veritable mountain of food for both of them to eat out off – read: for Rhodey to eat out off and forcefully stuff bites into Tony’s very un-hungry mouth.
“So we don’t have a clue where she is or who she is besides extremely powerful,” Rhodey summarised, utterly unimpressed with the Asgardians before him. “What about these nine warriors? Where are they?”
Thor looked relieved to be able to answer confidently with a firm, “Dead. They were all felled one by one after their Queen’s entrapment.”
That was good news at least. No need to worry about nine other super powered bad guys.
“Many died,” Thor continued his story, his voice dropping to that hypnotic lilt it always took when he got into the storytelling mood. “And many more were gravely injured. Mimir, the wisest man of the nine realms, met his end during the last battle, his death mourned by the Norns themselves. Tyr, the greatest warrior of all time, sacrificed his sword hand, and now leads the war council in strategy instead-”
He was going to continue, no doubt list names after names of the people important enough to have their names memorialised in stories, but something clicked for Tony, something had him saying-
“I thought Tyr lost his hand because Fenrir bit it off or something.”
Thor bit his tongue, then swore with his bleeding tongue out while Loki stiffened beside him. “Where did you hear of that name?” The green eyed god asked far too politely while Thor winced as he tried sticking his tongue back inside his mouth.
Tony blinked at them both, then shared a look with Rhodey who frowned back at him and asked, “Did no one tell them? Y’know, of the shit written about them?”
Thor’s expression lit up with understanding. “Ah,” he realised, turning to Loki. “They have legends of us written in their tales. Some are surprisingly close to the truth of what happened, but others are quite shockingly entirely untrue. One claims you to be the cause of Baldur’s death, having given Höd an arrow made of mistletoe.”
Loki’s face spasmed, even as he defended himself with an irritated, “I wasn’t even there! Höd gave that fool the mistle toe himself!”
“Aye,” Thor snorted, “For once, I can vouch for your innocence in that regard.”
Loki rolled his eyes, but seemingly accepted the explanation for why the mortals were aware of Fenrir, whoever or whatever the hell he ended up being, and seemingly decided to bring them back to the original point. “I moved to check as soon as we confirmed of what had been taken from the vault,” he explained, waving a hand and-
Tony stared, transfixed, as green twisted like smoke to form a picture. It emulated a projector more than a hologram, the edges faded while the central area was as sharp and colourful as any 4k display.
Appearing on scene was Loki himself, standing in front of a massive, golden (naturally), double door that absolutely dwarfed him, even in the reshowing of events. Inside was an empty room with a singular aged throne, visible chains all around that had been so clearly broken.
“The king of Vanaheim, King Freyr,” a tall man, blonde hair to his waist, stepped almost out of water to stand besides the Loki in the image. He looked almost like a mix of Loki and Thor, tall and lithe like Loki, yet blonde and built like Thor. “Confirmed that this was the location where she had been kept prisoner…”
“… those chains were made by the dwarves themselves,” the king himself spoke, voice a surprising deep tenor that had Tony’s mouth go just a bit dry. “And yet now they lay broken. I was unaware Midgard could break dwarven chains, dear nephew,” Rhodey’s eyebrows show up, as did Bruce’s, “nor that they would wish to do so, to break this Queen free.”
Thor grimaced as he watched the memory play out, the scene frozen on Freyr and Loki’s back (why was the memory not from Loki’s point of view, from his own vision? How did Loki know what they looked like from the back, how tiny they looked in the grand opulence of the room that had functioned as a prison for this Tengu queen? How did Loki know exactly what Freyr looked like, tilting at the waste to loom over Loki, long blonde waves brushing against his back with the gravity of the movement?), “I take it Uncle was displeased, then.”
“Indeed,” Loki confirmed, waving a hand that dispelled the frozen image away. Tony bit his lip to stop himself from begging it back, from asking if Loki could play other memories like that, how far back could he recall, could he do other people’s memories, and if so, how?
And- why did the king of Vanaheim call Loki nephew (and Thor too, if Thor called him uncle). Why Loki though? Wasn’t Loki adopted? Maybe Loki was, like, adopted from a branch family? What the hell did Tony know about Asgardian (and now, apparently, Vanaheim-ian) family practices? Maybe they were like the Starks of Winterfell.
The door slid open, catching the room’s attention. Steve walked in, having stepped out for a moment to update Fury about the attack of the ninjas, and beamed at Thor when the god greeted him loudly. Making his way to sit next to him, Steve nodded with a polite smile at Tony, to which Tony tipped his empty juice at in return.
He caught Loki watching the interplay, clever dark eyes drinking Steve in before switching to Tony, unblinkingly staring even when they made eye contact. Tony stared back, the dim of strategizing and planning dimming to background noise as he cocked his head to the side, Loki mimicking the movement.
The slow, thin stretch of the god’s lips into a smile was… unnerving. It promised that Loki was privy to something, something Tony hadn’t intended for the man to be privy to, but what, Tony couldn’t say. There was a glow to the green eyes Tony hadn’t seen before, one that looked a shade or two unnatural, but-
-alive.
I see, said the gaze, reading the minutiae of something that Tony hadn’t yet read. Across the room, sat on different sofas, each with a man they knew as brother, a mortal stared at a god, and the god stared back.
I see you.
#
Loki Laufeyson sees Tony Stark for the first time when-