Chapter Text
Taking the long way through the palace he heads towards his uncle’s study. At this time of night, he should be in his chambers relaxing but his uncle’s more often than not found reading over some treaty or registration at his desk.
As he crosses through the gardens and past the library he contemplates his meeting with Stark. It had gone better than he expected, he had only gone to be sure that the mortal had successfully defeated and endured this latest threat. Also, if he wanted to see the mortal and converse some more with the curious mortal that is neither here nor there. But what he had stumbled upon was Stark badly injured and fresh from battle, his foolish stubbornness not allowing for a moments peace. But not to worry, a little bit of magic and the mortal was as good as new and prepared for his inevitable next battle.
He catches a few glances from maids performing their last tasks of the day and soldiers standing guard at their posts but they merely nodded their heads with murmured greetings. Most knew not to bother him unless he asked for assistance, he much preferred their deference to the Aesir’s ever-suspicious gaze.
His uncle had requested his presence earlier in the day but he had stayed longer than planned at the mortal’s residence. Well, it wasn't like his uncle wasn't use to his turbulent schedule.
He cuts through the orchid and finds the large oak door to the study creaked open slightly, but thinking nothing of it he glides past.
“Sorry I’m late I-“
“… Loki, I was expecting you earlier.” Frey winces, his whole manner going taut in shock. He stands rather abruptly, clearly in the middle of something.
“Terribly sorry, I did not mean to interrupt…”
Just as he is about to backpedal out of this awkwardness he catches sight of his uncle’s guest, a jotun female guest.
Just the sight of that jewel-toned blue is enough to freeze every motor function in his body. His first thought is that his uncle is in danger, but he looks more apprehensive than angered. His second thought… leaves him more than a little uneasy.
She is everything yet nothing of what he pictured. She’s perched close to Frey, seated closer than politeness would normally dictate. Smaller in her frame than others he had encountered, she resembles more his stature than the guards who greeted them in Laufey’s court. Apart from that, she is the picture of a classical jotun, her hair is long and black, almost reaching the bottom of her chair, and her ruby red eyes glisten in the firelight.
As he is not so subtly taking her in he notices the markings covering her skin, swirling across her features and flowing around her chest and arms. He distantly wonders if they are similar to his own or are they are unique to each Jotun.
Another thing that takes him by surprise is the way she is garbed, similar to the way many Vanir women dress, long dresses draped in layers of flowing fabric. Yet hers is more practical, cinched at the waist with tight leggings underneath.
All of this takes less than a few seconds to process, during which everyone cautiously eyes the others.
“I should leave the two of you alone…” She says hesitantly, carefully eyeing the two of them.
“No, Gerðr stay,” he asks, hand reaching for her to stay, “Please.”
“… No need to leave on my account.” Loki haltingly addresses, it seems he’s intruding and his uncle clearly wants her here.
At her wary expression he musters up some courage, “You must be the woman my uncle is so… enamoured with.”
Gerðr raises a sceptical brow at him, “You’ve mentioned me?” she mutters to Frey, her attention still solely focused on Loki.
“I may have mentioned you once or twice, love.”
“Only good things I assure you.” A grin he’s certain looks painful stretched across his face.
“… Of course.”
He’s not sure who’s warier of the other, him or her. They both have reason to fear the other but with Frey in the mix, there is a level of peace they both unconsciously agree to.
An awkward silence descends on the room, a silence that Frey somehow doesn't seem to share.
“This is wonderful,” he announces as he wraps an arm around the woman. “I can finally introduce the two of you officially.”
Both of their faces paint a picture of instant distress but she recovers more quickly and forces her face into a somewhat inviting smile. Though he can detect a glint of hopefulness in her eyes, perhaps she doesn't want to upset Frey by being on bad terms with his nephew or more than likely she doesn't want to play nice with the man that attacked her realm and thinks she can get this over with quickly.
Loki already knows this is going to get more awkward by the end of the night.
She settles her shoulders and motions for Frey to begin and he does so quickly before anyone can change their minds. Maybe his uncle is not so unaware as he thought.
“Loki this is Gerðr, my beloved.” He turns to her as if she had hung the stars, “Gerðr this is Loki, my favourite nephew.” He has two of his favourite people in one room, of course, he looks happy.
Loki snorts at Gerðr’s dismayed expression, “You shouldn't have favourites with family, my dear.”
Frey merely rolls his eyes, “Clearly you haven't met Thor during hunting season,” he mumbles.
“It is an honour to meet you, Prince Loki. Your uncle has told me much about you.” She says, stepping out of Frey’s embrace.
“Not many would call it an honour, my lady, especially those hailing from your realm.” He says, voice softer than before. He finds it hard to look her in the eye so he looks to his uncle for help.
“I explained some things to her, Loki,” he states.
An ice-cold shiver runs down his back, “Exactly what have you told her, dearest uncle?”
Frey winces at his icy tone, “You know I would not share anything personal without your consent, Loki. I merely divulged that you were not yourself and that you had a rather heavy hand guiding you to such lengths.”
“It was still by my hand.”
“Yes, it was,” Gerðr says, her voice brokering no argument.
Loki swallows hard as he hangs his head, but Gerðr lifts it with a gentle touch. He doesn't know what shocks him more, that she is willing to touch him or that it doesn't burn. Maybe because he is also Jotun, but he is not currently in that form right now-
“It is pleasing to hear that you admit to your misdeeds, young Prince. But I would very much like to hear the tale from your mouth.”
“The mouth of a trickster?”
“I’ve always found those tales more engaging than the warriors repeated stories of battle. At least yours proves to be intriguing.” She smirks, “And your uncle will keep you truthful if nothing else.”
You would not want to disappoint him by deceiving me, you seem to have few male relatives to cling to right now.
That distressing thought drifts through his mind in a cold wind. Ah, so the Jotun’s do possess their own form of magic. Good to know.
“Gerðr…”
“No, she’s right,” he states, at least Frey had found someone with intelligence this time. “Well played,” he whispers.
She smiles a little more warmly this time, “Thank you, your highness.”
“Shall we sit?” Frey asks, gesturing a seat to Loki as he pulls Gerðr’s chair out for her.
He repeats some of what he told his uncle, his visit to Jotunheim with Thor, the revelation he found there, his conversation with Odin and the inevitable end of his short reign. Throughout it she sits silently, taking everything in without comment or judgement. That is not to say she doesn't look shocked at his jotun revelation or at the steps that lead up to the Bifrost attack.
Once his tale of betrayal, murder and chaos ends they sit once again in silence. Frey looks once more angered at the actions of Odin, Loki sits uncomfortably as he glances at Gerðr for any reaction but all he see’s is contemplation.
Finally, she breaks the silence.
“You are Jotun.”
He clears his throat, “Yes.”
“A Jotun who Odin raised with his Heir, a prince of the realms.”
“That title is a little strenuous at the moment but, yes.”
Gerðr still looked like she’s having trouble digesting all of it.
“This may be uncomfortable for you, but may I see?”
At Loki’s uncomprehending expression Frey quickly cuts in.
“I don’t think that is necessary. You believe that he is Jotun, my love. What use would showing you further prove?”
“It is one thing to believe, it is another to see.” She quickly adds, “I know that you speak the truth, but it would truly confirm it for me to see proof.”
Frey gestures to his arm, eyes softer than he’s ever seen them. “It is up to you Loki.”
At Loki’s continued silence he motions at him. “Perhaps just a hand, you need not change completely if you are not ready.”
“Of course, I would not ask for such a thing so lightly.” She assures him, a frown marring her features.
It is the first time since touching the casket that he had shifted himself into that form. It was not under the best of circumstances and residual wariness rises to the front again.
“The first time it happened was with another Jotun’s touch, the second with the casket. I’m unsure if I could do so without help. The enchantment the All-Father cast is strong, I…”
Wordlessly Gerðr holds out a hand, an offering stretched between them. For him to take… or not. It was up to him.
Can he trust her? Frey does but his mind is clouded by sentiment, his view is tainted. But he has told her enough that this could harm him no further. Though emotionally it’s opening a whole new can of worms.
He stills his shaking as best he can and slowly reaches for her hand. As soon as the tip of his finger touches her palm a slow and steady blue begins climbing his hand. He tries to pull away in shock as he feels his magic answer the call instinctively, a coldness that feels refreshing and yet immense in its intensity. But Gerðr lightly holds his hand, softly rubbing her thumb over his pulse point. The motion is lost on him with his focus entirely took up by the sight as his Jotun skin is put on display for others.
His breathing gets difficult as his eyes are glued to his hand, the blue now crawling to his forearm.
“That’s enough,” he rasps.
Gerðr reluctantly releases her hold and Loki quickly snatches his hand back. He cradles it close to his body, hand clenching as if trying to shake pins and needles from his skin.
As he glances up, trying to gain some control he sees both of their attention is still on him. Frey with a sympathetic look and Gerd looks like she’s trying to solve a riddle and is growing frustrated fast.
“Satisfied?” He asks sardonically.
Frey pipes up, noting that Gerðr’s gaze is still locked onto Loki’s arm. “Yes, thank you, Loki.”
He nudges her lightly and her eyes instantly lock onto him. “I… thank you for the demonstration, Your Highness.”
With a sigh, Loki nods at her stilted thanks.
“…. So, you’re probably wondering why Gerðr is blessing us with her presence.”
He gets a sardonic look in response. “To visit you?”
“Well, yes.” His eyes straying to hers once more.
“I came for the council meeting, the alignment of the Nine Realms is soon upon us and we are all being called upon to discuss its… complications.” She clarifies, glaring playfully at Frey.
Loki immediately jumps upon the subject change, glad to breeze by those matters. “The convergence is approaching? How long do we have?"
“A couple of months actually,” Frey voices with a grimace.
“So soon?”
“We would normally plan further in advance but recent, circumstances, caused a delay in precedence.”
Loki clenches his jaw, angry and irritated at himself vying for attention.
Gerðr notices his displeasure. “I’m here as a representative for Jotunheim.” She waves a hand dismissively. “But Alfheim, as you know, holds a wealth of knowledge and there are many here who have experienced it before. Few can sense it and fewer still are those who are able to perceive it.”
“Yes, I recall there are a few among the elves who have previous experience with the event. Queen Aelsa will be sending along a few who have more knowledge for the meeting.” Frey recalls.
Gerðr nods solemnly, “After the last one, we need to be better prepared.”
“Bor barely won that battle.” Frey recounts, frowning in contemplation.
“That’s not how the bards tell it,” Loki smirks, catching his uncle’s amused glance.
“Of course not, the truth is rarely exciting enough for the masses.” Gerðr rolls her eyes.
“You should know that Frigga will be attending the council meeting in Odin’s stead.”
Loki frowns and mulishly nods. “I thought as much. No doubt something else holds his attention? Perhaps Thor has slaughtered another game or he’s found another trinket to store among his relics.”
Frey lets go a deep sigh, “On a lighter note, your aunt will also be attending.”
Loki grimaces, “It will be nice to see Aunt Freya again, I guess.”
“Yes, she has missed you greatly.” Frey teases, knowing how Freya and Loki tend to butt heads. They are sometimes much too similar, headstrong, calculating and argumentative to say the least.
Gerd cuts in with a non to welcome comment.
“One forgets how many people in your family hold seats of power among the realms, young prince,” Gerðr mentions, her gaze at once curious and weary. “You hold a majority if I’m not mistaken.”
Loki’s eyes narrow as he mentally calculates and comes up short, Asgard, Vanaheim, Alfheim, Helheim… oh.
… Jotunheim.
Loki tenses as Frey tries once again to settle the sudden tenseness permeating the room.
Frey and Gerðr start a conversation purely through eye contact, a display of the stereotypical loving couple who no longer need to vocalise their conversation. After a few moments of eye-rolling, crinkles sprouting from the corners of their eyes and a sigh or two, their conversation concludes.
Gerd waves him off, “Merely making an observation, darling.”
Frey arches a brow but lets it go.
Watching them interact like this he can see how close Gerðr and Frey have become. To think he had never had an inkling that his uncle kept such a large part of his life from him. She is without a doubt someone special, to have captured his heart so.
He has to admit that his uncle looks happy. He hasn't seen him like this in a long time. A smile has been a permanent fixture across his uncles face whenever he even glances at this woman.
He will make the necessary polite social niceties for her, his uncle deserves that from him at least.
But, today had been a long day and he is far surpassing the polite manners that Frigga had instilled in him since he could take etiquette lessons.
He makes his apologies and farewells to them both. Gerðr graciously bids him goodnight and rolls her eyes in amusement when Frey stands to walk him to the door, in a non too subtle manner.
“So?” Frey whispers.
Loki rolls his eyes like Gerðr and musters up a smile. “I like her.”
Frey beams at him and claps him on the shoulder. “I knew you would. You two will get along well, I know it.”
Loki’s smile tightens, he tries not to taint his uncle’s happiness. He may be able to hold a conversation with the woman but becoming close with her seems far out of the realm of possibilities.
Before Loki can scoot out the door, Frey once more envelopes him in a hug that he can’t help but lean into. His uncle is not normally this touch heavy, but near-death experiences tend to bring out his protective nature. Not that he isn't taking advantage of the reassuring comfort his uncle is offering.
“Good night, nephew” he mumbles, holding him close.
Loki merely snorts and claps him on the back, “Goodnight, uncle.”
Frey ruffles Loki’s hair before he lets him escape, “Goodnight, Loki.”
~~~***~~~
Frey heaves a huge sigh into the silence. “Well, that went slightly better than expected.”
“What were you expecting?” she asks, brow arched sardonically.
“… Just the usual chaos and light stabbing.”
“I can’t tell if you're being serious.”
“That’s probably for the best,” he smirks, reaching to top up their glasses.
“How fare’s Vanaheim's raids?” Switching the topic non too subtly, nodding her thanks as he passes her another glass.
“They have started to settle, you know Freya likes to keep a firm hand.”
“I hear the Thunderer has gotten involved now.”
“You know Thor, he can smell the scent of battle five realms away. It is no surprise he is involving himself,” Frey muses. “At least this time his brand of peacekeeping is working in our favour.”
“I hear whispers that battle is no longer where his heart lays,” Gerðr smirks.
At Frey’s disbelieving brow, she adds. “Midgard holds an even brighter allure for him now.”
“Midgard?”
At Gerðr’s pointed stare, he grasps her meaning, “Oh.” He rolls his eyes, “It is hardly the first time this has happened with him. Nor I suspect will it be the last.”
“Of course not, a realm of mortals hardly inspires lasting love.” She admits, “But this time it’s different, apparently he seems more even-tempered. Her influence will be a boon to us all.”
Frey purses his lips as he raises a glass. “Then here’s to the happy couple, may her patience everlasting and his temper vanquished.”
Gerðr huffs at his antics but raises a glass anyway.
Then a sullen silence, reflecting on Loki’s wayward and destructive habits and then lead to Frey talking about Frigga.
“It still shocks me that Frigga could hide this from me and Freya.”
“It was a time of war, it would be much easier to hide in the chaos of such things.”
“Still, she’s my sister…”
Frey stands and leans against the mantlepiece staring with wariness into the flames. They both take a moment of silence to digest everything.
“Did Odin know?”
“I’ve learnt to lean on the side of caution and say yes, Grimnir knows a lot of things. But what specifically are you asking?”
She stares at him with an unbridled fury he has never seen before. “Did the All-Father know who Loki was when he took him?”
Frey’s expression immediately shutters, a blank slate where once there was resignation. “Who he was?”
“You need not pretend, my love. We both saw the lines upon his arm, we both know what they represent.”
Frey slowly blinks, and his shoulders drop. “I don’t know, but it would not surprise me if he did.”
In a move even he had trouble tracking the fire extinguishes and frost crawls up the stones and ashes.
“He lords his authority over us like he has any right. His warmongering, pillaging and theft can be seen throughout the realms and the outer reaches. He takes our power, he takes our freedom and now he has taken our prince and turned him against us.”
“Gerd…”
“He has gone too far.”
“He went too far millennia ago,”
“And now he shall finally pay for his crimes.”
Frey narrows his eyes, “How do you plan to do that? Many have tried, many have failed.”
Gerd merely lifts a brow.
“No, you will not involve him in this. After all that he has gone through you cannot ask this of him.”
Gerd looks a little repentant at that. “I will not ask it of him, but he deserves to know.”
~~~***~~~
A few days later…
Loki enters his guest suite in Frey’s palace and finds Amora rummaging through his books. It’s a common sight with them, rifling through each other’s texts and sharing their collective knowledge. They each have their own expertise but since they were only children they had studied together and kept such learned habits well into adulthood. She had even helped him tutor his own children when they were young, Amora was particularly talented in mind magics and poisons, whereas Loki likes to focus on illusions and refine his telekinesis to perfection.
“Any news on Hela’s front?” He asks, stealing a book from her careless grasp.
“I was reading that.”
“And now you’re conversing with me,” he teases, taking a seat beside her on the floor. “I’m much more interesting.”
“Debatable,” Amora smirks.
“So?”
“Patience is a virtue, darling.”
“And I have plenty to spare, just not on this issue, so…”
Amora rolls her eyes, “No, nothing new to report. But it won’t be long, you know how determined your daughter is.”
Loki smiles fondly.
Amora cautiously voices a thought that had been bugging her, “Since the Convergence is known for opening gateways… have you given thought to the Titan exploiting it?”
Loki nods, having had a similar thought. “I had, I have a few ideas regarding that front but I’d like to run them through with Freya. She would be the best person to go to with this…”
It is an event normally only concerning the nine Realms but one can’t be too careful with a being known for such aspirations and cunning. If there was a way, the Titan would no doubt find it. Having no intel at the moment to go off, making safeguards in case of emergency would be the proper procedure.
“True, she has the best head for strategy in your family.”
“Don’t let Frey hear you say that,” he smirks.
She huffs, “If he hasn't figured that out by now I do worry for him.”
Loki gets up to put back to book Amora stole, and then starts looking for another. He’s flipping through tomes, murmuring to himself.
“Have I lost your attention so quickly?” her tone unimpressed.
“Hmm? Just a moment…”
“What are you looking for?” Loki smirks and finally finds the book off a high shelf.
“Just an old copy of something.” Amora comes up behind him and slouches over his shoulders, “Quite below your level don't you think?”
“It’s not for me.” He dismisses and shakes her off, putting it on his desk and snatching up his quill. Amora squints at him, her brow furrowing as she ponders.
Suddenly her eyes light up in familiar mischief. “A present for your new pet?”
Loki glares at her before continuing his writing. “It’s nothing, besides letting him know of the coming convergence would be ideal. Stark has allies and the reach to be able to find out quickly and subtly.”
Amora smirks and rolls her eyes, “I take it Jor and Merlin are both extremely busy to not fulfil such a heavy task.”
Loki just glares at her again opening his mouth to retort. “As a matter of fact-“
There’s a knock at the door cutting off Loki’s comment. Amora chuckles as Loki orders them to come in.
“Your highness, the delegation from Vanaheim has arrived.”
~~~***~~~
Group chat - The Cool Kids Table
Tony: Avengers Assemble!
Clint: Wtf? What happened now?
Steve: What’s wrong? Also, what does wtf mean?
Nat: Where?
Clint: What the fuck
Tony: Language! You don’t want to hurt Cap’s precious ears now do you?
Steve: *Rolling eyes emoji*
Clint: Who the hell taught Steve emojis?!
Nat: Did someone leave coffee grinds in the sink again?
Tony: Yes but that’s not what this is about. Also Clint you’re a heathen!
Clint: *Rolling eyes emoji*
Tony: Remember who makes those special exploding arrows you love so much Bird Brain.
Clint: I’m sorry and I love you. *Cutesy emoji*
Steve: … So is this important because I’ve paused my jog for this.
Tony: How dare you, what I say is always important Cap!
Steve: I’m just saying the last time you called an assemble it was just to show us Butterfingers catching a ball.
Tony: Hey! He was proud of that!
Clint: … was pretty adorable.
Nat: Steve has a point, is this another pointless assemble?
Tony: … I hate you all. Alright, listen up losers! Your attendance is needed at a Stark Gala next week.
Clint: No way! You can’t make me do another :(
Nat: Again? This is the third one this month.
Tony: Tough shit, if I have to suffer I’m taking you all down with me.
Clint: You sick bastard!
Steve: Guys language! And of course, I’ll be there Tony, Miss Potts and I happened to be discussing it yesterday.
Tony: You have Pepper’s number?
Steve: She called me, said she wanted my input.
Tony: wtf?
Nat: Probably knew you’d be helpless.
Clint: Makes sense.
Bruce: … I have other plans.
Clint: Finally, where you been dude?
Bruce: Working, unlike some people.
Tony: Oh no you don't Brucey! I know your schedule and your free as a bird.
Bruce: … something came up
Tony: Filthy liar, you’re coming even if I have to drag you.
Bruce: Damn you
~~~***~~~
It’s late evening in Stark Tower and dusk had settled on the skyline of the city that never sleeps. On the Team level, we find two avengers fighting it out in a battle for worthiness.
“Wow, you suck at this.”
“Shut it!” Clint yells, eyes firmly on the screen. His cart falling of a magical rainbow bridge for the fifth time in one minute.
“For a spy, you’d think you would have better dexterity.” Bruce comments, secretly loving seeing his teammate losing control of his anger for a change.
“How dare you, my balance and agility are perfect.” His eyes suddenly go huge, “Oh dear god no!”
“Sorry Clint,” he says softly, his eyes scrunching up in suppressed laughter.
“You bastard!” A blue shell knocks him off course and Bruce flies past him to the finish line.
“It had to be done,” his tone solemn.
“I will never forget this,” he promises.
“Forget what?” Tony asks, waltzing onto the team level. Having just come home from a meeting for SI, he tosses off his jacket and rolls his sleeves up, parking himself on the couch.
“A betrayal of the worst kind,” Clint pouts.
Bruce rolls his eyes and turns to Tony, “I beat him at Mario Kart.”
“Again?”
“This game sucks anyway!” he broods, throwing the controller onto the couch, he gets up to head to the bar.
Bruce shakes his head at Clint’s antics, “He only says that when he loses.”
Tony chuckles, “Does he ever win?”
“I heard that!”
“You were meant to! Get me one while you're thieving off me.”
Turning towards Tony with a hesitant look, “So… heard anything from Loki lately?”
“What? No how are you? How’s your day been?”
Clint returns with a bottle and some glasses, Bruce shakes his head but Tony takes a glass. “How’s your day been? Run into any would be-conquerors at your meetings?”
Tony narrows his eyes at Clint, “You’d be surprised, it’s like a dark council with those old money oil bastards.”
Clint perches on the arm facing the rest of them, “So, have you?”
Tony sighs and takes a big gulp. “Tasha fill you in on the Mandarin business?”
“Yeah, I’m the one who put her on it. You all got through it okay though?”
His eyes go a little wide at that admission, oddly touched at Clint’s worried tone. “Yeah, all good though Pep’s a little shaky still.”
“It’s understandable,” Bruce nods.
Clint narrows his eyes a little, “So, what does Nat not know?”
Tony averts his gaze from both of them, stretching out until he’s facing the ceiling. “Well…”
Tony regales them with his last meeting with Loki, finding him with Harley and his meeting shortly after in the penthouse.
“… You made a deal with the devil, you dumbass.” Clint mutters, downing the rest of his glass.
Tony rolls his eyes, “Relax, I have everything under control.”
“That’s usually when everything sets on fire.” Bruce snorts, remembering last week when Tony nearly set his lab aflame.
Tony narrows his eyes at Bruce playfully and tosses a pillow in his direction.
“Have you clued in Steve to any of this yet?”
“The boy scout knows nothing and it is staying that way.” He warns with a finger pointed in Tweety’s direction, Clint snorts at his threatening look.
“Don’t you think he deserves to know? He’s part of the team too you know.”
He huffs and waves his glass, “He would go running to Fury and you know it. Plus he can’t lie to save his life.”
“Pretty sure kids can lie better than, Cap.” He laughs, clinking his glass with Tony.
Bruce looks pointedly at the spy in the room. “Both Clint and Natasha know and don’t they work for him?” His tone exasperated.
“Yeah… but I trust their self-preservation more than Rogers acting ability.”
“Thanks,” Clint huffs.
“What do you mean?”
“If word got out that Clint wasn't solidly on the ‘We hate Loki train’ Shield would be all over him like a bad rash. God knows what kinda therapy and testing they’d put him through.” He shivers just thinking about it. “No one wants that, and Tasha’s on Tweety’s side so I trust them not to blab so long as it benefits them. Until it no longer becomes convenient… that’s when we’re in trouble with the pirate.”
Bruce looks hesitatingly at Clint who’s staring into his glass. “Is that true?”
“… Unfortunately.”
“So, want another round?” he asks pointing toward the console.
“It’s a bit mean asking him to lose again so soon,” Bruce teases.
“Oh, you two are on!”
~~~***~~~
Four more rounds of Mario Kart and several rounds of drinks later Tony decides now is the best time for an all-nighter.
“Jarvis take me to the lab,” he asks, sauntering into the elevator.
“I take it it’s pointless to say your time is better spent resting?”
“You would be right.”
Jarvis sighs and sends his inventor towards his man cave.
“Butterfingers, you found another ball!” Taking it from his claws and throwing it towards things that are less likely to take damage. “Where the hell did find that? I thought I hid them all?’
“Butterfingers has his ways, sir.”
“… alright keep your secrets.”
Just as he’s about to pull up another update he catches a green flash out of the corner of his eye.
“What was that?”
“I’ve taken the liberty of scanning it,” he assures “nothing harmful detected.”
Tony eyes it warily as he slowly moves toward it, “It’s a book.”
“Yes, an early presentation of the written word, normally found in a library.”
He rolls his eyes, “You’re sass is getting out of control.”
“I’ll make a note.”
“You do that,” he smirks, silently proud. “Were my eyes deceiving me or did it appear in a green flash?”
“You are correct sir,” Jarvis pulls up footage of it appearing, and lo and behold it just pops in like magic.
“Perhaps a gift from your new friend?”
Tony squints at the term, “I wouldn’t… never mind.” Shoving caution to the wind he picks up the card attached to the front, written with an elegant hand.
One has to understand the basics before comprehending the whole. - L
He flips it over and finds another message,
If you find portals popping up around Midgard during the next few months, resist the urge to go through them lest you be spit out into Muspelheim.
“Muspelheim?”
“The realm of the fire giants and often described as a land of perpetual flame.”
He purses his lips, “… I’ll try to resist.”
“I’m sure Miss Potts would be proud, sir.”
Already feeling his curiosity spiking he picks up the book, he grunts a little finding it a lot heavier than expected. It looks like it’s ancient with a weathered leather front and a gold trim throughout. It appears to be in Latin, maybe. A language long dead no doubt.
“Well, looks like our plans just changed Jay.”
“I shall begin scanning and copying the text, where would you like it stored?”
“Offline Jay, on the personal files.” No way was he chancing Shield getting their grubby hands on this. “Call it, project Mischief.” A smirk pulling at his lips as he sets out the first page.
“… wait, did he say portals?!”