Chapter Text
It took half a year to rebuild the Bifrost, or at least a Bifrost, to take them to Asgard and back.
A week for a new arc reactor. Another to realize that the pathway Loki had cut had 'healed' while it was unused. Two weeks to try to replicate whatever Loki had done and figure out they couldn't, but also realize that the original Bifrost had left a permanent scar on the fabric of the universe. Two more weeks to move everything to New Mexico.
Tony, Bruce, and Jane wrote papers on the subject of wormholes, which were laughed at by the so-called serious academic society. The one exception was the NASA, who wanted in, which in turn meant lots and lots of red tape and supervision.
That got them nicely tied up, and then, to boot, the common public found out; talk shows got added to the delays. Because apparently the world thought that Jane and Tony creating a interstellar wormhole travel just to see their boyfriends was 'so romantic' — never mind that, by this point, they were so frustrated that their main motivation was to prove they could do it against all odds and laws of physics.
Cue three months of working with NASA engineers and experts to rebuild the portal and stabilize it, of more papers that were still not taken seriously, of S.H.I.E.L.D. hovering anxiously nearby, guns ready in case anything unexpected came through. Fast-forward another month of calibrating, testing, and Tony lobbying to be the first to jump in.
When Tony finally hopped over and came back with a dark-skinned golden-eyed dude built like a boulder and dressed in golden armor, well.
That sure shut up all the academics that had called the Stargate Project a 'pipedream', didn't it?
Asgard's Royal Bouncer called himself Heimdall, and Tony hated him instantly.
It wasn't just that the dude was physically imposing, more serious than a cancerous pancreas, as immutably stoic as the face of a cliff, and prone to staring at people without blinking, giving them the impression that they were naked and Heimdall knew all their dirty secrets. Nor was it what Tony remembered from what Loki had told him about the guy.
It was the way the asshole had told Tony to go back from whence he'd come, because mortals weren't welcome in Asgard.
Tony, by virtue of having inherited a multimillion dollar corporation when he was still in grad school, had ample experience with being talked down to and underestimated, so he had simply smiled winningly and invited the Douchekeeper over instead. As he put it, since there was no Bifrost, there was no gate to guard; therefore it wasn't like Heimdall would be skipping work by coming over for tea.
Tall, Black and Stoic accepted, and there they were, having coffee and snacks, and trading gossip.
Thor was all right, as they had all trusted he'd be, but hadn't been able to come over because there was no Bifrost. The only man able to travel without it, Loki, hadn't come over because his sentence, aside from being disowned, was to rebuild the Bifrost. Without magic, apparently, because then there would be nothing stopping him from simply skywalking — yes, that's how Heimdall called it, though he didn't understand why the mortals all laughed incredulously when he said it — and leaving Asgard stranded again.
Rebuilding a magical rainbow bridge with no magic. No wonder Loki was taking forever in coming back. And, of course, Odin wasn't gonna give Loki his magic back to make it happen faster, because that's how Odin rolls.
Then Bruce had a brilliant idea.
Three days later, Bruce, Tony, and Jane walked into Asgard, dressed to the nines and loaded with PowerPoint presentations.
Heimdall himself escorted them to the castle. People pointed at the arrogant mortals and clutched their pearls, but said mortals were too busy gaping at the spires — so tall they could only be defying gravity by magic — and at the fact that Asgard was a discworld to complain.
They met Thor on the way to see Odin, and he would have jumped on them with all the excited love of a golden retriever if Jane hadn't sent him a Look that said, quite eloquently, shut up, this is serious business. So, he toned the excitement down a bit, keeping to an exchange of soulful gazes with Jane, and an arm-clasp with Bruce and Tony.
Loki was nowhere to be seen, but Tony had waited almost six months, he could wait a few more hours. They did get to meet Frigga, however, who was beautiful and poised, and who managed to disguise her mild distaste for mortals — or anything non-Aesir, Tony couldn't tell which — with a smile. Tony only noticed because it was the exact same smile he'd seen Loki use when he had to play nice with people he thought were beneath his notice (like journalists, politicians, and telemarketers).
When they finally got to see Odin, he looked down at them from way up on the throne and asked Heimdall why he'd let Thor's chattel track mud all over the Throne Room, though not in so many words.
Tony bristled magnificently, clenching his fists so hard his nails cut into his palms, and only Bruce nudging him with his elbow stopped him from making an acid quip right back at the smug bastard. He checked with Thor, and, would you lookie that, even the Crown Prince looked annoyed.
Jane was unaffected. She was sadly too used to being looked down upon by old men with inflated senses of self-importance who thought they knew everything — thought that she was cute for trying to play at being like them, like a child wearing his or her parents' shoes — for this to be much different. She was the one to take the stand, while Bruce and Tony set up the presentation for her.
She took no prisoners. By the end of her speech about exactly how easily her team could rebuild the Bifrost, no one doubted that Asgard should hire them. And, just in case, she made it abundantly clear that she'd have no qualms travelling to another realm and offering them a semi-monopoly on instantaneous intergalactic travel.
Even Bruce and Tony were inclined to believe her, though they knew for certain she was just bluffing because none of them had any idea where other wormhole terminals might be on Earth, and so they couldn't open them.
"Damn," Bruce murmured to Tony, "now I know how she got funding for her Einstein-Rosen bridge research." A theory that was so tenuous in proof, at that point in time, that she might as well have been asking for funds to research waterproof teabags.
Tony nodded, watching her calmly answer Odin's questions or those of anyone who wanted to pose them. "Forget Loki," he breathed, "I'm gonna ask her to marry me. We can have threesomes with you — for science, of course."
Bruce snorted, knowing it for the joke it was. "'For science' is not a battle cry, Tony."
"It totally is, Dr. Jekyll, so shut you whoremouth," Tony grinned back. Then, all of a sudden, he leaned over to whisper "Science intensifies," in his ear, and reached down to grope Bruce's ass. Point made, he pulled away and winked salaciously, before joining Foster in negotiating terms with Odin.
Shaking his head, Bruce followed him. He made sure not to look into any reflective surfaces, so as not to confirm his theory that he'd gone magenta.
Earth had little need for money, so they traded Odin access to Asgard's schools and libraries, a cartful of children's toys, and the latest thrall of the castle: Loki.
The mortals learned that, when Loki's guards got tired of dealing with his smart mouth and cutting quips, they stowed the depowered ex-prince into a box in the dungeons, with the criminals and war prisoners, rather than in the slave quarters. Apparently, they'd only made that mistake once; Loki had incited a revolt within three hours, armed with foolish notions of all people being created equal, freedom of speech, rights to private property, etc..
Tony was so proud.
Until he got to actually see Loki.
"They put you in solitary confinement?! I'm gonna castrate Odin with a rusty spoon!"
Loki, standing poised and perfectly indifferent, in the way that meant he secretly was going weak at the knees and wanted to curl into a tight ball, tilted his head and rested a faintly trembling hand on the weird laser-honeycomb screen that separated him from the world. There was a huge-ass ornate cuff around the wrist, matching the one on his other hand, and the collar around his neck.
Fighting the urge to break something, Tony walked up and laid his hand over Loki's. The screen felt weird — not like glass, but not like wire-mesh either, and it buzzed, like it was woven from angry bees. He couldn't feel Loki's warmth through it.
The assholes had put Loki in solitary — in solitary! — with his mind still a broken jigsaw puzzle with missing pieces. And dammit, he should have known Asgard wouldn't believe that mental illness was a thing that existed, that the mind could be injured as easily as the body! That bitter taste at the back of his throat when he and Loki had parted ways had been an omen, and he should have seen it.
Should have held on tight to Loki, and never let him go.
"Are you real, this time?" Loki asked softly, and there was more weakness in his voice than when he'd had been fresh from Thanos's mindfuckery.
"I'm real, Sir President." Tony managed a weak smile. "We have a saying on Earth, about mountains and prophets."
Loki's mouth wobbled a bit, caught between a smile and a grimace, flickering from one to the other. "Oh, Tony," he breathed, pressing his forehead to the screen, "how I've missed you."
"Mm, of course you did," the not-so-mere mortal replied, smiling blindingly. "How could you not? I mean, have you seen me?" He wanted to ooze through the screen and gather around Loki, embracing him and drawing him into his body, like an amoeba.
Loki chuckled wetly, his eyes closing, though Tony couldn't tell if it was from relief or to try to keep back tears. "Indeed. One wonders how I've managed to exist without your shining presence all this time."
Ouch. Tony swallowed hard. "Well, wonder no more. Jane, Bruce and I are gonna rebuild the Bifrost, and Odin couldn't afford us. So he offered the next best thing." He caught Loki peering at him and held his gaze. "A thrall. Tall, powerful, sassy, legs that go on forever; just how I like them."
Loki looked down, ashamed. "I fear you were shortchanged, my dear." He bit his lip, pulled his hands away from the screen, balling one briefly into a fist. The cuff caught the light, looking incongruously pretty. "Odin took from me my power, along with my name and my title."
"I couldn't care less about your title," Tony said brashly, and then added gently, "Sorry, Babe. As for your name, I figured you hate being known as 'Odin's son', so I didn't ask for that either." He shrugged, hoping desperately Loki really would forgive the oversight. For all he knew, Loki still had hope in his heart of being welcomed by Odin telling him he was proud of being Loki's dad. "I got your powers, though; he's gonna make it so only I can take off your jewelry." He gestured at the cuffs.
Loki smiled weakly, subconsciously hiding his hands behind his back. "Did you bargain for my immortality, as well?"
What?
"What." Tony's eyes widened. Fuck. Fuck, fuck — fuck it sideways with a baseball bat. "Oh, my God. No. I didn't even ask." His face crumpled, and he looked away to hide it. "Maybe I can get it in. Oh, my God. No wonder the asshole was smirking." He hit himself on the forehead with the heel of his hand. "Stupid! Downright fucking idiotic!"
"Don't beat yourself up so much," Loki's soft voice interrupted his oh-fuck-no train of thought. "I can get it back later. Just get me out of here so I can hold you."
'As if I could stop,' Tony thought, hating himself for underestimating Odin. He'd thought he tricked him so neatly... But no. Odin, the wily bastard, had tens of thousands of years out-tricking people. Tony had forgotten that, and he'd paid for that oversight with Loki's godhood. He took a deep breath. Loki was still waiting for an answer. Right. He exhaled. "You're not actually mine quite yet. I just wanted to be the one to tell you the news." He peered up at Loki, and then looked at both sides of the corridor before pressing his lips to the golden force-field. "I'll be right back," he promised.
Loki touched the spot Tony had kissed and brushed his fingers over his lips, transferring it. "Take your time. I'll wait right here," he joked, looking genuinely happy, and took a step away.
Tony grinned. "I'll be back before you know it, so don't get too cozy," he warned, and left.
The second he was out of sight and earshot of anyone, he leaned against the wall and slid down, pressing his face into his knees. He stayed in that position until he could breathe without choking, and then he stood, dusted himself, and went to look for his fellow goats.
Apparently, Odin didn't believe in doing payment up-front, or even half and half, because he decreed he would only give them Loki when the Bifrost was completed.
They'd been letting Loki out of his cell just to work on repairing the Bifrost, but now that they had the 'mortal sorcerers' doing that job, Loki was stuck in his hi-tech shoebox. There was no reason Tony couldn't be allowed inside, but, since the more time he spent repairing the rainbow bridge, the sooner he'd earn Loki's freedom, he only went there to sleep or to ask for advice.
Bruce visited, too, generally to keep Loki company during meals, and so did Jane and Thor. One day, when a sudden electromagnetic storm made it impossible to work , Tony sweet-talked the royal cook into making the closest thing to pizza as possible, and they all piled into Loki's cell to eat it.
A month of this, and Loki already looked extremely improved. He put on some much needed weight, and his color was better. He still slept fitfully, whenever he wasn't woken by his own nightmares, but he slept at least.
By the end of that month, to the amazement of Asgard, and to Tony's immense private satisfaction at making Odin swallow his superiority complex, the Bifrost was up and running again. The Observatory was not a pretty sight — it looked quite mangled, as they had tacitly agreed that function, not beauty, was the priority — but it the Bifrost worked like a dream.
Loki was led to the Observatory dressed in plain clothes and chains, looking like he'd come straight from a bondage wet dream. The chains connecting the collar and cuffs were apparently the same that Loki had been forced to wear whenever he was out of his cell, and they were ridiculously hot on him.
It put Tony in the very uncomfortable position of being simultaneously mildly aroused and sick to his stomach. How could Odin have ordered such a travesty upon a man he'd claimed as son? How dared he not only cut Loki off from his magic, but also from moving freely, leaving him both powerless and restrained in so hostile an environment?
But for all of Tony's outrage, when Loki met his apprehensive gaze — and seriously, Tony was this close to wringing his hands — Loki was smiling, looking perfectly serene. He didn't even look strained, like he was putting on a front of casualness so as not to give the asses who hated him the satisfaction of seeing him in distress. He simply grinned and sent them a little wave, completely out of place among the engraved manacles, thick chains, and armored guards escorting him.
Tony couldn't help it, he grinned back, shaking his head ruefully. 'You look great,' he mouthed at Loki, giving him two thumbs up.
Loki winked and mouthed back, 'I'm always great,' which made Tony want to run the three meters that separated them, pull him into a headlock, and ruffle his perfectly combed hair.
Odin chose that moment to make his entrance, accompanied by Frigga. Thor came in after them, all prepped to leave for Midgard, and stood by Jane.
"Farewell, my son," Odin said ceremoniously, clasping Thor around the back of his neck. He turned to Jane. "And you, Jane Foster. Already stories are being told of the woman who defied destiny and rent the stars asunder looking for her prince." He nodded, and rested his hand on her shoulder. "May you make my son a happy man while you live."
Yeah, that was Odin alright, sneaking in a low blow about Jane's mortality. Despite the fact that it'd been her research, her discoveries, he work, her drive that had enabled Asgard's only long-distance method of transportation to be rebuilt, he still looked down on her.
Thor twitched, a hand making a fist by his side, but said nothing.
Tony was bristling. He wanted to ask if his story was going to be told too, or if sundering the stars looking for a lowly thrall was too unglamorous. But Bruce stepped on his toes, and he flinched, remembering where he was. So close, Loki almost in his grasp; he wasn't about to waste all the effort with one careless potshot.
Odin moved to Tony, and the whole room held its collective breath. "Man of Iron." He offered a pebble to Tony. "As per our bargain, the thrall Loki No-Father is now your possession."
Tony's eyes flickered to Loki as he took the small stone. The ex-prince's cheeks had pinkened slightly, visible even though he was facing slightly downwards. His eyes glittered defiantly at Odin from the shadows his hair cast over his face.
"Thanks," Tony said flippantly, the sound of blood rushing in his ears too loud for him to think of a clever quip. He peered down at the stone, and saw it was engraved, and that the carvings matched the ones on Loki's manacles and collar. He swallowed. As he walked over to Loki, he couldn't help but notice some of the guards glaring at him.
What the heck was their beef?
One of them had a hand possessively on Loki's shoulder, another in the crook of his arm. Tony cleared his throat pointedly, and they pulled back slightly, puffing like angry bulls. As he leaned over to touch the key to Loki's manacles, the guard on the left growled, low enough for it not to carry. "Should you mistreat him..." he trailed off ominously, his jaw tight.
Loki rolled his eyes, definitely amused.
Tony blinked. Huh, he was getting the shovel talk from the guards holding Loki down — no, comforting him, he understood now. "I wasn't planning to," he whispered, and the key clacking on the metal of the cuffs. Sections began turning like gears, pulling back on themselves until the manacles clattered to the floor.
The guards stood back, surprised at this sudden turn of events — Tony deduced they weren't the same guards who had turned a blind eye every time Bruce told him he needed sleep, and he decided to spend the night spooning Loki — and let him do the same to the collar.
As soon as Loki was free, he thanked the guard on his left with a pat to his hand, gave a small nod to the one on his right, and took a tentative step towards Tony. He glanced at Odin out the corner of his eye and, smiling sardonically, bent his head and bowed. "Greetings, Master," he said, mockingly humble, voice carrying.
Tony's brain helpfully took the words out of context and offered another, more enticing situation in which they might be used, and he flushed slightly. After floundering for a moment, he cupped Loki's face and brushed his cheek with a thumb. "Right back atcha, Pet."
Their eyes met, and they struggled not to burst out laughing.
When they got themselves under control, Tony tossed the key on the pile of chains, showing everyone exactly what he thought of the whole bondage thing, and returned to the lineup, Loki trailing behind him with his head held high.
Bruce was chatting with Frigga, a basket in his hand. Tony didn't catch what they were talking about, because, as soon as they saw him and Loki returning, they shut up and parted.
Thor had been accosted by his friends — the ones Loki didn't like, if the sneer on his face was anything to go by — and they were now exchanging tearful goodbyes and promises to visit. Or promises to call upon each other should a chance for glorious battle present itself, Tony wasn't too clear if there was any difference to Asgardians. At any rate, they scattered when Tony and Loki joined them.
"Heimdall," Odin said, looking suddenly his age as he held tightly onto the spear, "open the Bifrost."
Heimdall obeyed, and one by one they stepped into the portal, finally going home.
They were at the airport, Tony's jet waiting to take Loki and him to Malibu for a well-deserved vacation.
Thor and Jane were going to stay in New Mexico, so Jane could continue working on her Einstein-Rosen Bridge research. The Aesir prince had helpfully brought along texts on the subject, and he was looking forward to translating them for his lady.
Bruce had been going to stay with them, but changed his mind at the last second — the soulful looks exchanged by the couple helped swayed him — and decided to seek out his old flame, Betty Ross, before returning to saving the third world countries, one pandemic at a time.
Loki was still getting used to his weaker body, but didn't seem — or at least didn't want to admit it — upset about his newfound mortality. As far as baggage went, he didn't have much on him — as he had accumulated a lot of clothing on Earth, which Tony had had transferred to Malibu — just his medals, decorations and gifts, aside from the basket Frigga had handed to Bruce.
She had told him it was a gift for Loki, and to give it to him when they were alone. Loki hadn't let it out of his sight for even a second, carrying it around whenever they left the house Tony had rented for Bruce, Jane and himself while they were working on the portal device.
He still had it even now, on his lap over the seatbelt's closure. His hands were holding it like it was full of eggs, gingerly and preciously.
Tony finished yelling his goodbyes out the jet's door and closed it behind himself. He went back inside, half-tempted to plop down on Loki's lap, only he wouldn't let go of that damned basket. Sighing, he went over to the mini-bar, got a can of Coke, and sat down next to Loki.
They took off without problem. As soon as the sign turned off, Tony undid the seatbelt, leaned towards Loki, and began whispering filthily about aaaaaalll the things he was going to do to his new 'slave' — the term was so ridiculous, applied to Loki, that it still made him giggle — when they got home.
Loki licked his lips and, for the first time since coming over the Rainbow Brigde, put the basket on the floor. "Why wait, Master?" he asked, pulling Tony onto his lap.
When they were done re-christening the jet, Tony's curiosity got the better of him. The second Loki went to the bathroom to clean up, he tiptoed to the basket and peered inside.
Three apples-shaped keepsakes, made of solid gold, met his sight. Textbook-diagram symmetrical and perfectly shaped. Simply flawless. He grabbed one, and blinked at how light it was. It couldn't… Could it be? Sure enough, when he pressed a his finger into a spot, it bruised under the pressure, like any normal apple would. Apparently, everything was golden is Asgard, even the fruit.
Shrugging, he closed the lid and returned to his seat, wondering what was so special about gold-skin apples that Loki had guarded them so jealously.
Must be an Asgardian thing. Some delicacy? Was Loki planning on making apple pie?
Suddenly hungry, he fetched some snacks, put on a movie, and sat back.
Moments later, Loki joined him, dressed again.
Grinning, squashing the slight guilt he felt for having gone through Loki's stuff, Tony put an arm around his neck and kissed his temple. What Loki didn't know, wouldn't hurt him. Besides, they had better things to do than discuss tiny invasions of privacy — like get Loki's pants off.
THE END