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“You know where he is.”
Thor looked up from the open refrigerator door, confirming that Tony Stark was addressing him. He just looked at Tony over the open door, and, while he knew exactly what the Iron one was asking, he quirked his head in seeming puzzlement.
“Your brother. You’re connected to him by Odin’s invisible tether--the dog collar he put around Loki’s neck. You know where he goes when he sees our son.”
Thor closed his eyes briefly, giving up on the hunt for cold, sharp cheese and pickles. He sighed and closed the door.
Tony continued. “I know you’re probably sworn to secrecy--but--”
“I am not sworn to secrecy, Stark. But it should be my brother’s right to tell you.”
“That’s kinda what I wanted to talk about.” After a gesture, Tony crossed to the countertop island in the middle of the expansive kitchen, sat himself on one of the stools. Thor, after watching him carefully for a moment, turned to the other side of the counter and, leaning over, rested his elbows on it, meeting Tony’s eyes again.
This time, Thor gestured: Continue.
“It’s been a month. He comes, he … well--he does that voodoo that he do so well, and then he disappears. For days. He’s not stirring up shit. He’s not even picking fights with Clint. Or you, for that matter. He just … goes.”
“To see the child,” Thor supplied.
“Wherever he’s keeping him. And no intention of bringing him here--or bringing me to him,” Tony completed.
“No.”
“Why?”
Thor closed his eyes--rubbed one palm over his face tiredly. He looked back up at Stark, resting his chin in his hand.
“Did you not wonder why my brother didn’t come to you for the child’s name until it--Fray--was almost eight months old?”
“He’s a dick?”
Thor chuckled. “There is that,” he admitted. “But it’s more than that, at least in this case.”
Tony made an impatient beckoning gesture with his fingers. “Okay--hit me, big guy.”
“My brother’s other children--” Thor looked up worriedly. “You know about his other children, do you not?”
“Yes--from reading, anyway. Not from Loki. He wouldn’t tell me fuck-all if my life depended on it. Thank God for Edith Hamilton.” Thor puzzled a little at the slight smile that appeared on Tony’s face.
“Loki’s other children were the spawn of--other immortals, you understand this?”
“Well, yes, though--some of it is--some of it has to be made up, doesn’t it? A horse? A … a fucking snake?”
Thor made an impatient noise. “Yes, well--things are different in Asgard.”
Tony chuckled. “That has to be the understatement of the epoch.” He looked at Thor for a long, silent moment. “So--snakes. Horses. The occasional human-shaped child. All immortal.”
“Yes. All conceived with immortals.”
Tony blinked, sobered. “Mine … is different.”
Thor gave a small, sympathetic smile. “Yes.”
Thor paused while Tony exhaled slowly, pondering.
“How does he know?”
“He knows. Despite showing some signs of his Jotunn heritage, Fray Starkson is already aging almost normally--similar to mortals. Similar to you.”
“‘Almost?’”
“Not quite as fast. But fast. Human. … Mostly human.”
“So--”
“So, Loki has a mortal child. Almost mortal, anyway. It’s unclear how long Fray will live, but his lifespan likely won’t be much longer than yours--and he’ll be fragile, like a mortal. Able to be hurt. More than us.”
Tony’s face tightened. After a moment, he spoke again, but merely to say “oh.”
“Whatever the stories might say--whatever my father wants others to believe--my brother loves his children. He loved them. All of them.”
An echo. “Oh.”
“You asked why it took him almost eight months to see you--to name Fray. It look him that long to understand the boy’s true nature--and to decide to keep him anyway.”
“...Oh.” Tony flinched at his own lack of eloquence. He picked up a discarded spoon from the marble countertop, tossed it into the island’s vegetable sink with a clank.
Thor folded his arms over themselves on the counter’s edge and looked off toward a window.
Finally, Stark spoke again. “Is he angry? Is he ... is he sad?”
“He is … resigned. After all, you are mortal as well. If all goes as hoped, you will help raise your son through your lifespan, Fray will eventually have children of his own--Loki may live to see generations of his mortal descendants live and thrive.”
“That’s … yeah. I guess I … I just assumed.” He paused. “We--he let me … I’m sorry to put this pretty picture in your head, but … we kind of tried to make a two-point-oh. I thought.”
Thor rolled his eyes. “I know where my brother is at all times, Tony--your nocturnal activities don’t shock me.” He thought for a moment, ignoring Tony’s half-hearted objection to the limits of “nocturnal.” “He is at peace with this outcome--now. I think he agreed to name his son after another Aesir to--well, for good fortune, perhaps. A true immortal with almost the same name as Freyr would … normally, this would not be done.”
“Normally, huh? … No, I guess not. Things could get complicated after--uh--a few hundred millennia.”
Thor snorted. “Indeed.” He glanced over behind Tony, at a figure that had just appeared in the doorway.
Tony continued, unaware. “So, Thor--is he ever going to let me meet him?”
Thor didn't pull his eyes from the other figure. “Yes, I’m sure of it.”
“When?”
Thor nodded over behind Tony. “Now, perhaps.”
Tony turned and saw what Thor had already seen--his tall, dark-haired brother with a bundle pressed up to his shoulder, both hands supporting it gently as it squirmed.
As Thor stepped away from the counter toward the door at the other end of the kitchen, he heard Tony begin, “How did you--”
“The ‘collar’ goes both ways. When my brother speaks of me--how do you say it? My ears flame.”
Tony snorted. “Burned. They burned.”
“Yes.”
Thor turned back and watched his brother as he slowly made his escape.
“He told you.” Loki shot an accusing glance at Thor’s retreating form.
“Yes.” Tony approached Thor’s brother slowly, carefully--as if approaching a wild creature. “I’m … I’m so sorry.”
Loki’s retort was sharp. “Why?”
“Because--because he’s not what you wanted.”
“You assume too much, Stark.”
Right before Thor left the room, he watched Loki draw the child from his shoulder, shift the infant's body in his arms, and hand him--present him--to Tony. “He is what I wanted.” Tony reached for the babe. “He's mine. ... And yours.”
With that, Thor gave them their solitude.
