“Did you think you could fool me, Stark? Fool the God of Lies?” The words are hissed against the curve of Tony’s ear. They are heavy with anger and betrayal, emphasized by the flexing of fingers upon the column of Tony’s throat.
The god’s hold on the mortal causes the response to be strangled. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re going on about, Reindeer Games.”
Tony’s attempt at humor is a means to deflect the cautiousness of the mortal. The sudden burst of anger is unexpected, leaving Tony with little understanding as to the cause. The accusations cause Tony to wrack his brain, desperate to find the source of the god’s anger.
“You seek to destroy me with the aid of the band of misfits you call heroes.” The words sound as if they are being ripped from the god’s tongue, the green of his eyes nearly unrecognizable by the haze of craze clouding them. There had been one time when Tony remembered the sight before him and it was directly before he was thrown through the windowpanes directly to his left.
The pressure of pale fingers upon the column of Tony’s throat increases until the genius’ vision has begun to blur. Desperation seeps into the mind of the male, causing his fingers to desperately attempt to remove the pressure to no avail.
“Loki, please,” Tony pleads, the words leaving his lips on a strangled breath as his fingers claw desperately at the back of the god’s hand. It is not possible for Tony to meet his ends in this situation. It is not possible that his life should be ended by the being he had developed feelings for, despite his better judgement. “Stop, Loki.”
The God of Mischief’s expression shifts to a sneer at the pleading of the genius. “So you can feed me lies? So you can make promises to fix the broken?” A scoff passes the lips of the god.
The words do little of relieving the genius from his confusing, from his desperate need to determine the root of the savagery. Loki, who has so desperately made changes after escaping the manipulation of his mind, can’t be promising the destruction of Tony’s life.
“I know your plans, Stark. I am aware of the purposes of our relations. It was to assure that I am not to intervene in the purposes of this SHIELD of yours. This affair of ours was to manipulate me in order to draw me into a trap. I don’t take kindly to those who are willing to destroy those they claim to hold dear.” Loki, appearing as if he is putting little effort into restraining the mortal, is still consumed by his own rage, but he has appeared to have grown tired of the conversation. The sign is a dangerous one.
“Loki, please,” Tony pleads, relieved at the slight removal of pressure from his throat. It is clear that despite Loki’s anger he is still hesitant to destroy the one being to continuously offer him affection. Without Tony, Loki has little and would be the enemy of the Midgardian people. It is not a state, Tony believes, the god is ready to return to so easily.
With Loki’s hesitation, Tony is aware that he has been presented with a slight window of time to appeal to the former prince and seek the source of his frustrations. Tony’s fingers shift from their desperate attempt to remove the restricting hand to allow the pad of his thumb to stroke soothing circles upon the underside of his lover’s wrist. Despite being pressed into this situation, Tony finds that he is incapable of turning anger upon the god.
“Lokes, I don’t know what upset you. You mentioned SHIELD, but if you paid enough attention, you would know that I ended contact with SHIELD when the threat upon our relationship was presented. The others, they’re gone too.” It’s not a fact Tony likes to think about; the Avengers had left at the first signs of a relationship between the mortal and the god.
Just like that, the pressure has returned to Tony’s throat, his back once against forced against the edge of the bar. The genius realizes quickly that his window to appease the god has disappeared.
A bark of humorless laughter leaves Loki’s lips. “Do you wonder why they’re gone, Stark? Perhaps they care little for the sight of you any longer.” The remark is snide, but it causes the genius to flinch regardless.
The God of Mischief leans forward, allowing his lips to ghost across the mortal’s ear as he speaks. “If you believe you more than a means to an end, Stark, perhaps your intelligence should have been reevaluated. You have power; power which I need. You were so ready to fall into bed with me, to gain the affection of another after the precious Ms. Potts deemed you unworthy of her affection.” Loki releases a ‘tsk’ at the conclusion of his statement.
“You no longer serve a purpose to me, Stark, and I find myself bored of your presence. And now, where is the band of misfits you once believed would save you? Ah, remember that they are gone. Living their lives and missing you very little. Thank you for what you gave me, Stark, I will be certain to use it wisely this time.”
The hand upon Tony’s throat secures tightly, completely severing the flow of oxygen. The true desperation begins then. Fingernails claw desperately upon the hand clasped around his throat. The edges of his vision begins to darken as the effects to oxygen deprivation begin to set in.
Tony can hear the echo of Jarvis’ voice flooding the room, declaring that the Avengers have gathered and have been dispatched to the tower, but the mortal is aware that they will be met with little more than his dead body.
As Tony succumbed to the lack of oxygen, he’s startled by the sight before him: it’s a reflection of himself. The true intentions of the god are now clear as he claims Tony’s identity as the mortal’s life slips from his fingers. The genius knows that few will know the true identity of the man now holding his identity, but Tony has little time to care before he slips into unconsciousness and into the waiting arms of Hel.
*********
Tony startles, nearly leaping from the expanse of his bed as he forces himself from the terrors of his dreams. His breath is coming in gasps and the beat of his heart against his chest is nearly painful.
The genius curls his fingers in his dark hair, attempting to ground himself. It’s been ages since his sleep has been plagued with such a dream and if he were not caught in the panic, he would feel guilty.
The shifting on the bed beside him has Tony desperately seeking a way to escape before his eyes flicker to rest upon the god at his side. Loki, eyes blurred from sleep and hair tangled, has been awoken by the commotion of the other’s dream and opens a single eye to survey Tony.
“Anthony,” Loki mutters, his voice thick from sleep. A hand extends forward, inviting the genius into his hold. For a brief moment, Tony hesitates, which immediately catches the god’s attention. Both eyes opening, Loki slowly processes the panic upon the mortal’s face, causing him to attempt to conceal the slight edge of hurt at the lack of trust in the face of the mortal.
Shifting to a seated position, the sheets pool in Loki’s lap as he reclines against the headboard. With little more to do, Loki’s fingers attempt to tame his wild raven hair, a habit Tony knows is to calm the god’s nerves. The movement draws Tony’s attention to the golden band upon the left hand of the god. It’s a reminder of Loki’s devotion and promise to love the mortal beside him.
Tony’s eyes remain trained upon the ring for a brief moment, allowing the thoughts to settle him, before he proceeds forward. The genius settles himself against the curve of the god’s side, his face buried in the other’s neck.
Tony’s lips lightly brush against the flesh of the god’s neck, a silent apology for his moment of questioning. The guilt will never ease when he knows that he is still plagued occasionally with such dreams. One would think that after ten years of an established love that Tony would be capable of moving on. He has moved past his fear, but there are times when the fear is able to reestablish its hold momentarily.
Tony feels Loki’s lips brush across the top of Tony’s head before he feels the god’s hand shifting to allow his fingers to twist the golden band upon the mortal’s finger. Loki’s silently offering his understanding and acceptance of the mortal’s apology, recognizing that he had plenty to make up for.
For the time being, Tony and Loki are managing, better than that when Tony is not plagued by the ghost of Loki's demons. Tony’s aware that their love exists and knows Loki would never cause him harm. He finds comfort in his husbands arms, silently wishing that Loki is aware that Tony would never truly fear him because their love for one another is enough. It’s enough to protect both of them from their demons and their fears.