It had been a pretty strange day, admittedly. First they’d had a (surprisingly friendly) chat with Death, then a bunch of galactic criminals (anti-heroes maybe? Who knows) arrive with even more reasons to kill Thanos, then one of the little bastards (a raccoon, apparently) breaks into Tony’s workshop with the help of a sentient tree and starts trying to steal shit. Plus the King of Wakanda came to stay, bringing more vibranium than Tony had ever had before in an attempt to help against Thanos. He was being pretty stingey with it and all of Tony’s work was being overseen by the teenage Wakandan Princess via video call, but still.
Apparently Steve had spilled the evil overlord beans to T’Challa and he’d dropped everything to come help. What a guy.
And yet Tony was still surprised when he entered the communal living space/bar to find Loki sitting at the bar, head on the surface and surrounded with empty bottles of what looked like Tony’s expensive alcohol.
“Uh.” He said intelligently, still standing on the doorway. Loki slowly raised his head and stared at him, looking surprisingly alert for someone who had apparently drunk six bottles of- oh shit, that was Balkan vodka. “You… you okay there buddy? I’m pretty sure that’s the hardest drink I have and if you were human you’d be dead by now.”
Loki snorted, rubbing a hand over his eyes.
“I know, I asked your sentient building. Worry not, Stark. It will take a lot more than that to kill me, my alcohol tolerance is much higher than a human’s.” He sounded a little slurred but that could have been due to a mix of intoxication and exhaustion.
“That’s good. I guess. Care if I join you?”
Loki shrugged, hooking his foot around the bar stool next to him and pulling it out. He was being surprisingly hospitable, Tony thought as he approached and hopped up onto the stall.
“Apocalypse getting you down?” He joked, leaning over the bar to grab a bottle of scotch.
Loki’s lips twitched slightly at the corners as he placed a finger on the rim of his glass and lazily spun it around.
“Believe it or not, this is not my first time facing imminent death.” He murmured, watching the glass go round and round.
“Yeah? Sounds fun.” Tony replied, offering his scotch. Loki wasn’t the only one who could be hospitable. The demigod’s eyes flicked over and he caught the glass before pushing it towards Tony. “Thor’s told us a little about your uh, brushes. How many you at now, three?”
Loki snorted, a corner of his mouth flicking up in what could have been a smile.
“If we count the last few years, yes. If we go back further I am way into the hundreds.”
Unfortunately Tony had just taken a sip of scotch and the statement made him almost spit take. He coughed, thumping his chest a few times before clearing his throat.
“Wow. You’ve beaten my record, congrats.” He coughed again, taking a drink. “Any of those involve a horse?”
Loki levelled him with a stare that, if possible, Tony knew would have killed him.
“Yep, totally didn’t believe that myth for a second.” Tony mumbled into his glass.
There was a few moments of surprisingly companionable silence before he gave into the burning curiosity that had been niggling at him since their encounter with Death. Instead of blurting out a dumbass question outright, however, he decided to wheedle his way in instead.
“Hell of a day, huh.” He sighed, resting his chin on a palm. Loki hummed next to him, eyes unfocused as he stared ahead. Tony looked over at him, actually studying the man- Demigod, alien, superbeing, whatever- next to him.
It was the first time they’d been in close proximity since Loki had infiltrated the tower and thrown him through the window, and Tony wasn’t quite sure how to feel about that. On one hand, seeing images of the god’s crazed expressions, pale-blue eyes and cagey posture from the invasion still caught him feeling anxious. On the other hand…
Loki didn’t look at all like that any more. Everything, from his mannerisms to his appearance, even the way he spoke was different. Less like he had an 18th century stick up his ass and more like he’d fallen out of a casual sitcom based in Victorian times. He looked healthier, less sickly and feral than he had six years ago. Now he just looked… tired.
Maybe there was truth to his story about Thanos’s coercion, Tony thought.
Loki caught him staring and turned his head, raising an eyebrow questioningly.
“What?” He asked flatly, not sounding at all impressed.
Tony thought for a moment before deciding fuck it, he was probably going to die soon anyway. What was one more question?
“Y’know what, I’m not gonna lie. I am really curious about your, uh. Little chat with Death.”
Loki’s green eyes narrowed and Tony suddenly felt the urge to melt into the floor. Now that was rare.
“What of it?”
“Eh, I’m a curious guy and it sounded very hush-hush. Very secretive. And I am nothing if not a nosy bastard.” Tony tipped his glass, draining it and setting it down on the counter.
“You sound rather proud of that fact.” Loki did the same, turning in his chair a little to face him. “Why do you want to know of a private matter?”
Raising his hands a little, Tony shrugged.
“Figured we’re probably gonna end up dead anyway. What’s a few secrets between friends?”
“I don’t think that’s how the saying is meant to be used.” Loki murmured, settling his cheek on his fist as he leaned against the bar. His eyes found the reflective surface and his face pulled into a frown, watching the condensation from the glass he’d been holding roll onto the counter. “If you must know. I was asking after.” He stopped short, as if interrupted.
Tony waited for him to continue, suddenly feeling antsy.
“I was asking after my children.” The man’s voice was little more than a murmur but Tony heard it clear as day.
“Your- your what? You have kids?” He said incredulously, straightening up a little.
“You were so quick to believe the myth about the horse before. Is it so difficult to believe I have offspring if they are not monstrous?” Loki didn’t sound mad, far from it. He sounded defeated.
Tony stared at him for a few seconds.
“What happened to them?” He asked quietly, watching Loki’s green eyes flick to him.
“They died. A long time ago.” He wasn’t saying everything but Tony decided not to push for once. He instead watched as Loki placed a finger in the condensation on the countertop, the water crystallising before turning into ice. “They were my everything. And I lost them.”
Tony watched as a strand of green magic snaked from Loki’s hand onto the counter before running across the surface, down the side and across the floor. Loki’s head turned to watch it and Tony copied, eyes widening as an image flickered up from the ground as clear as one of his own holograms.
It was of two boys, one he guessed to be around ten years old, the other a few years younger. The image started to move, the boys shuffling their feet and looking chastised before the younger one grinned widely and jumped on the elder, almost pushing him to the floor.
“What were their names?” Tony asked, his voice sounding oddly raw. A few years ago he probably wouldn’t have cared about another person’s kids, about their stories. But after Harley during the whole Mandarin fiasco, and then Peter…
Tony didn’t know what he’d do if he lost Peter.
“Narfi and Vali. Narfi was the elder one.” A sad smile took place on Loki’s face as he looked at the image, now repeating itself like a video on a loop. “There are few tales of our kind that your world got right, but I believe that they documented my son’s demise correctly.”
Tony stared at the images, trying to remember the details of the myths he’d read up on. He’d gone through a metric fuck tonne back when Loki was attacking them but so much had happened since then. What was there? The horse, which was apparently fake, the goddess of Hel who was apparently actually his estranged sister (who the hell was documenting these?), the wolf, the snake- and the boys. The only kids Tony could remember reading about who were fully human shaped. What had happened to them again?
With sudden clarity it came back to him. Not all the details, he was too drunk for that, but there was something about shapeshifting and entrails and some really nasty fucking stuff.
“There- there was a wolf involved?” He tried, running a hand over his hair. “And a rock?”
Loki slowly nodded, not taking his hand away from the counter.
“Odin wanted to punish me after an indiscretion, I don’t remember which one now. It was so long ago.” He murmured. “He decided that the only way to drive the lesson home was to take away what mattered to me the most.
“I was summoned to a cave under a waterfall in Asgard. It was where I took my sons to practice magic, a sacred place to us.” He continued quietly, staring through the image rather than at it. It had frozen at the point where the younger boy- Vali- pounced on his brother, almost knocking him over. “I was restrained as soon as I set foot inside, and I knew something was amiss. Then I saw he had my sons, held on the opposite side of the cave.
“Odin announced my crimes, and my punishment. He transformed Vali into a rabid wolf and sicced him on his brother. I was forced to watch as he tore him apart.”
The image faded as Loki removed his hand from the counter top, reaching over the bar and grabbing a random bottle.
“… Shit.” Tony said quietly, having no idea what to say. What can you say to a story like that? “I’m sorry. Man, that’s… that’s something.”
A small huff came from Loki and he flicked the cap off of his new bottle, bringing it to his lips.
“Indeed.” He replied, closing his eyes. “Thor wonders why I stopped viewing Odin as my father. He believes that I cut ties with him when I discovered my true heritage, but it was long before that.” A sad smile graced his features. “My brother… he is a good man, but he doesn’t always see what is in front of him.”
Tony nodded, toying with the empty glass in his hands. Loki was obviously so pained by what had happened but spoke so casually of such a horrible loss.
“Wait, so… Death is looking after your kids for you?” He picked up, looking up quizzically.
Loki nodded.
“As soon as I was free after it happened, I summoned Death and pleaded with them. I begged, tried to bargain, offered to do their bidding for eternity if they could help me. They...” He paused for a moment before continuing. “They told me I didn’t have to beg or offer servitude. All I have to do is die and I will see them again.”
Tony stared at him.
“Okay- not to sound insensitive, but couldn’t you just...” His hands twitched around for a moment before miming stabbing himself in the chest. “Y’know?”
Loki shook his head, watching him from the corner of his eye.
“The one condition. My death has to come by the fate’s design. I cannot knowingly encourage it or invite it. That is the one rule.” He replied, as if he’d had the conversation with himself a thousand times. “Death was right- the Sisters of Fate are formidable entities. Even I am not foolish enough to interfere with their work, and Death has had to receive more than enough unplanned souls recently.”
Nodding slowly, Tony leaned over to place his glass behind the bar to clear up later.
“There’s something different about you,” Loki mused, still watching him. “Humans do age so rapidly but it’s something else. You seem to have gained empathy.”
Tony snorted, standing up and stretching.
“Yeah, well. Surprising the difference six years makes.”
“It’s only been six years?” Loki whispered, seemingly to himself. “I’ve known centuries to feel shorter.”
Tony looked at him, at the seemingly exhausted man in front of him. The man who had apparently lost everything, who supposedly was looking forward to death but refused to die, purely to be reunited with his kids.
“I guess we’ve just got more in common this time around.” He shrugged, trying to sound casual. He hadn’t formally introduced Peter to Loki, the kid had gone back to school after summer break recently and according to Pepper, it was important. Maybe they’d get along.
“Maybe so.” Was the reply, as Loki drained the last of his drink and placed the bottle with the others. “Hold onto that, Stark. Whatever it may be.”
Tony nodded sincerely.
“I will.” He turned to leave, suddenly feeling exhausted, when Loki’s voice stopped him in his tracks.
“Make no mistake, Anthony Stark. If it would bring my children back to me I would raze this world to the ground, and there would be nothing you could do to stop me this time.” His dark eyes met Tony’s and the human could tell that every word he spoke was truthful. “I trust you understand.”
Nodding, Tony stepped forward.
“Trust me. I do.”