Relics

Tony, Loki, and Thor wait until the sound of the footsteps fades in the distance. Then they hear the screeching of rusty, unoiled hinges followed by the clang of a heavy door falling shut.

The Avengers, Nick Fury, and his SHIELD operatives have left the bunker, taking a very angry looking Jane Foster with them.

“Gone,” Thor states after listening closely for a few moments. “We're alone.”

“At last,” Loki says, taking a tiny box from apparently out of nowhere, just like the pencil-roll-thingy before, and uncases a blue-black berry. He looks at it with a thoughtful smile. “A remarkable treasure from Haragon. Very useful, and very rare, especially since Sif went on her little berserker jaunt and more or less flattened the place.”

“That kind of thing seems to be quite the fad with you people,” Tony says, wondering where Haragon was, and what precisely happened there. And who is Sif? Then he watches as the god crushes the berry between his fingers.

Loki walks towards the exit and uses the dark juice to paint a rune on the door. “Children’s toys,” he murmurs while doing so.

“Thor, what is Loki doing?”

“My brother is establishing a temporary protective ward. Now everybody who listens in on our conversation, be it in person or via one of your electronic devices, will think that we are discussing the playthings we had when we were little.”

“Very cute,” Tony says. ”There seems to be no end to his mumbo-jumbo from outer space.”

Slowly, very, very slowly, Loki turns around and looks at Tony Stark. He is sporting the same manic grin Tony remembers from their encounter at Stark Tower in Midtown Manhattan. His posture is just as threatening as he comes closer with measured, confident strides, and a cold, cruel gleam in his eyes.

Tony swallows. Do. Not. Panic. Now, he keeps telling himself (while his mind turns into an endless loop of I’m in a cave, I’m in a cave, I’m in a cave...) (I'm in a cave with Loki).

Thor huffs. “Oh, get off it, brother. You promised to cooperate, so stop teasing my friend.” Then he addresses his Midgardian comrade-in-arms with a reassuring smile. “Please do not worry, Anthony. We do not mean to do you harm.”

The god of mischief shrugs, and changes his countenance into a less disconcerting expression. “Just a bit of fun to ease the tension, Thor. I’m sure Tony understands this.”

“You come in peace, huh?” Tony tries to quip but somehow it sounds lame, even to himself. You complete jerk, I nearly went into cardiac arrest again. And did you just call me Tony? Should I worry?

“It's time to talk business now, don't you think?” Loki is inspecting the table and the chairs. Judging from the expression on his face, he is far from satisfied with the state of the furniture.

He is probably making up a list of complaints, Tony thinks. I hope I'm going to be around when Fury gets his copy. Then he looks directly into Loki's face. The god is watching Tony keenly. Thor, who still has Mjolnir in his hand, is at his side, and is also looking at his shield brother.

“I take it then,” Tony says slowly, understanding dawning, “that this thing is not a toy.”

“Define toy,” Loki challenges him with a snigger. “I remember a time when I successfully knocked out Thor with a hobbyhorse."

“Brother, this is not the time for your witticisms,” Thor tells him. He appears not to be overly fond of this particular childhood memory.

“Oh, well,” Loki says, obviously disgusted by his brother’s straightforward attitude. “It's a weapon, Tony.”

“A weapon?” Tony asks in disbelieve. “But you said, and I quote, it only gives sweet dreams.”

“I may have been a little creative in my description,” Loki admits without blushing or showing any other sign of embarrassment.

“My brother did not lie,” Thor adds. “It does give dreams.”

“But not of the sweet kind?”

“Too sweet, possibly.” says Loki.

“Doesn't sound so bad,” Tony tells the brothers. “Is there a way to chose the dreams? Like, three supermodels and a magnum bottle of champagne? On a beach?”

Loki looks at him in disbelieve and turns to his brother. “Damn it, Thor. Didn't you say this one was intelligent?”

This earns him a chagrined look from Tony, who is not used to having his intelligence judged by Thor and commented upon by Loki. This kind of thing, the engineer muses, should not be encouraged at all.

“I wouldn't give the object to my worst enemy,” Thor says much to Tony's surprise.

“Huh?”

“Thor is right, Tony.” Loki is looking serious now. “These things are known as Mime's Curse on Asgard.”

“But the way you said it made it sound like a good thing, Loki. A fun thing.” Tony is still not sure where this is going. ”I guess your toy could be quite useful for helping to relax after a stressful day. Just take it in your hand, magic-zap yourself to wherever you wanna be, and do what you’d like to do.”

“Precisely, Tony,” says Loki, rolling his eyes like a teenage girl. “Imagine never ending dreams of whatever the dreamer longs to have, and misses in their life. And all this without any effort, strain or resistance to overcome. Just imagine everything you ever wanted coming true whenever you touch this thing and close your eyes.”

There is a long pause after this statement.

“Oh,” Tony says after a while.

Loki nods. “People have been known to take potions to enhance their sleep into an endless slumber. Some have even been found dead from want of food and drink. Others have just lost their minds after a while.”

“Potions? Like, drugs? Sleeping pills? Massive downers?”

Loki nods again.

“So this thing is highly addictive.”

“Yes, Tony.” Loki frowns. “Now imagine you hand this over to an enemy, someone whose power you crave, and whose realm you want to rule. Or giving it to someone you just want to have out of your way. You don't even have to go for the kill.”

“Sounds like the perfect crime, Rudolph, and somehow I find the idea of you handling this thing right now disturbing, to say the least.”

“My brother gave me his solemn word not to try anything during his stay on Midgard,” Thor intervenes.

“And isn’t he known to be quite the trustworthy one.” Tony can see Loki thinking now. “Listen, Lokes, I really want you to remember that SHIELD is going to claim the ownership of this object on behalf of the U.S. Government. There is no way you can keep it, let alone remove it from this planet.”

The look Loki gives him can only be described as amused. “And what makes you think that I want to take Mime’s Curse with me? It is dangerous, and a burden. Besides, the way I see it SHIELD is the perfect choice for a guardian of this very complex and potentially destructive magic relic because they are known to be so trustworthy.”

“Yeah, no,” Tony says, puzzled. “I say they would not be my first choice, but better than you anyway.”

“That was sarcasm, my friend,” Thor tells him, and Tony watches as he nudges his brother in a way that can only be interpreted as the Asgardian version of a high five.

Naturally, this does not lift Tony’s spirits at all. To make matters worse, Loki has stepped much closer to him than he likes again, and Tony really starts to have issues with the Asgardian concept of personal space. Sooner or later we need to talk about this, he thinks. The god looks down at him, and Tony can smell the leather of his armour now. It's too close to their encounter at Tony's penthouse in Midtown Manhattan for comfort. The engineer clears his throat. “Could you please not do that? Like, stepping on my toes? You are making me feel quite uncomfortable.”

“Perhaps we should all sit down and talk this over without ruffle or excitement.” Loki points at the chairs, and Thor gives his affirmative.

A couple of minutes later, Tony only wonders how precisely Loki has managed to take the seat at the head of the table with Thor flanking him to the right and Tony at his left. The billionaire is looking morosely at the God of Thunder in front of him, wondering why this kind of stuff insists on happening to him all the time. To crown it all, the padding of the chair he has chosen seems to be mouldy and rather damp, and things are already happening to the seat of Tony’s trousers.

Inflammation of the bladder? Not a huge fan, Tony thinks. Shifting uncomfortably, he looks with envy at the brothers who seem completely unperturbed. Perhaps I should ask Thor for a pair of those Asgardian leather pants for my next birthday. They seem to be quite the thing. And I would probably be the only guy on earth to own alien leather pants as worn by the gods. Yeah, eat that, Justin Hammer.

Loki has put his pencil roll down and gives Mime’s Curse, which is still floating around and somehow seems to be always gravitating towards him, a playful love tap with his index finger. “Tony, as much as I dislike interrupting your musings,” he says, ”but I think we have agreed to talk business for now?”

“What?” Tony asks surprised and not for the first time in his life. He hopes that Loki doesn’t notice how startled he his, because the last thing he needs is the God of Mischief going all Pepper on him for letting his mind drift.

Loki gives him an annoyingly indulgent smile. “Very well. You know, Tony, what keeps me wondering is how surprised you were when the weregild I paid came up in our pleasant conversation.”

“Well, it’s the first time I heard about it, and it is considered an outdated concept around here. Like a relic from the freaking Stone Age.”

"Is that so?" Loki's voice is dripping with irony. “Oh my, and still you were the most expensive item on my list.”

“Now look...” Tony hesitates. What? “What the fuck?”

Thor nods. “Weregild is paid according to the social rank of the victim, my friend.”

“I gave 12 bars of Vibranium for the harm I caused you, have you not been told of this?” Loki asks. “When my brother made his remarkable appearance at the negotiation table, you were certainly not counted among the chickens.”

Tony just gapes at Loki. “You mean you paid 12 fucking bars of Vibranium for assaulting me?”

“Well, yes.” Loki shrugs. ”I thought the sum to be a bit excessive, too. But it was the first time Thor conducted peace talks on his own, so it was only to be expected.”

“I handed it all over to Nick Fury and the members of the World Security Council who accompanied him, so they could give it to the victims of my brother’s onset, or to their surviving families.” Thor frowns, and he is looking seriously worried. “Do you mean to say they never mentioned this to you? They did not pay you?”

“I’m totally stunned,” says Tony.

The God of Thunder is looking absolutely horrified by now. “But they told me they had a mandate from the respective governments of the victims to act on their behalf. I trusted them.”

“They surely didn’t tell me. And I’m also sure they didn’t give me the Vibranium. I would remember that.”

12 bars of what is possibly the most precious metal known on earth belong legally to Tony, and someone is trying to steal it from him. It's what Captain America's shield is made of, and even Tony has a hard time to lay his hands on Vibranium. It is so rare, there isn't even a market for it. Not an official (read: legal) one, though. “Heck, I earned the stuff,” he blurts out before he can help himself. “Fury and the World Security Council can go and get their own asses thrown out of the window if they want some.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry that your elected leaders are such thoroughly greedy frauds,” Loki says with an unpleasant tinge of satisfaction in his voice. It sounds a bit like told-you-so, and Tony tries to ignore it. “Shall I call Nick Fury in now, and ask him to take Mime's Curse away?”

Tony leans back on his chair, crosses his arms in front of his chest, and looks at Loki. This goes so much against the grain for him, he can't even start to describe it. But he needs time to think and consider the options. Also, it probably won't hurt to hear Loki out, and perhaps Thor has something constructive to say, too.

There is also the simple fact that there is really not much Tony can do now that he is stuck on his own with the Asgardians in this bloody subterranean bunker. If they decide to strike out at him, he is as good as done because with all those severely enforced doors and concrete walls around, Tony's armour is hopelessly out of reach. So stalling seems to be the best option at the moment. Stalling and thinking, finding solutions. Yeah, Tony thinks, I'm good at that.

He gives Loki his best million-dollar-smile. “Okay, Reindeer Games, let's give it a try: I guess there’s room for negotiations after all. Convince me.”