Work Text:
When in Midgard...
Frostiron Secret Santa 2017
“Oh, Thor, hey. Yeah, uh, pretty good, it's been a while, right? What happened to your eye? What? What do you mean, your sister? How many more siblings do you have that want you dead? Yeah? And you have Bruce. Okay, uh, cool- Wait, what? What do you mean, you're bringing Asgard? As in... Asgard? Okay, and, uh, how many people is that exactly? No, I need numbers, big guy, you... Three thousand. Okay, three thousand, that's, uh, that's manageable, but -what do you mean, two days? Thor? Nuh-nuh, Thor, stay with me here! I'm a billionaire, not a -I can't just buy a country for you- no, not part of a country either! We humans have rules- Thor, are you listening? Thor?”
“Yeah? What? What could be worse than you bringing your planet on my planet? ...No. No, you're fucking kidding me. That's a no. That's a huge no. You turn your ship around and you come back when you've dropped him into space- hey, hey! Don't you play bad cell reception on me, Thor! I can see you pulling that plug right now! Thor, you space asshole!”
–
“So. Because Stark was the one who agreed to welcome New Asgardia to Earth, with all of its inhabitants-”
“That is just unfair, Nick.”
“-Thus leaving me to deal with the Council, the United Nations, the government of Norway, and riots in the streets. You want to talk about unfair?”
“Look, Thor needed our help. And he didn't exactly give us a choice so much as announce he was coming.”
“Well, I ain't giving you a choice either, Stark. You rolled out the welcome mat; you're taking responsibility.”
“How is that any of our business, Director?”
“You've all won a trip to New Asgard to keep watch on crazy alien murderers and help serve as a neutral first contact with Earth. Congratulations. You can thank your friend Iron Man when I'm out of the room.”
“Screw you, Nick.”
–
So there they were. New Asgard. New Asgardia, actually, Thor had called it. It didn't look like much, but simultaneously, it felt huge and world-changing. The Norwegian governement had granted their forgotten deities a piece of beautiful land, deep into a National Park whose name Tony would never pronounce right. There were endangered animal species, culturally relevant Saami lands that had to be kept away from, and so much snow . But Thor actually seemed very pleased when he found it.
“It's perfect,” he proclaimed.
“You didn't give us much of a heads-up, to be honest. We ordered for temporary installations for your people, but we probably won't have anything up before tomorrow night. Will you guys be alright staying in the ship tonight?”
“My people is resilient,” Thor said with confidence. “I was more concerned about our first contacts with the humans that will now be our neighbors. We need to make a good impression.”
Tony wanted to remark that maybe it was a bit late for that. Steve did open his mouth to explain that they were deep in the wild and probably should not worry about meeting with humans too much. Strange started speaking, to suggest that the Asgardians would probably seem more friendly if Loki was never to be seen again.
None of them made it so far as to give their opinion. A triumphant voice interrupted them all.
“Avengers! Welcome to New Asgardia! It is good to see you all again!”
They looked up. There at one of the doors of the ship, amidst the flow of people was slowly pouring out to come take a look outside, Loki stood with his arms crossed, cape flowing, horns high, looking all but victorious. If he felt any shame or regret to being back on Earth, or face to face with the heroes who had defeated him in his plans to take over the world, he was really, awfully good at pretending it wasn't there.
“Loki,” Steve said, doing a remarkable effort to sound polite. It didn't work, but the effort was nice. “It's good to see you helping Thor.”
“Ah-ah, but I do more than to help,” Loki said with a smile. “Thor gave me a mission.”
He disappeared, his image shivering as on a frozen screen, and there was the distinct clicking of at least three guns having their safety removed as he reappeared right next to Thor, facing them. Natasha, Clint and Sam all resisted the urge to point their weapons to his head, but Tony could see that it was not easy.
“What would that be?” Strange asked slowly.
“Oh, you're here.” Loki lost a bit of his smile. Strange won a bit of affection from them all.
“My brother Loki was always a great diplomat,” Thor said. It sounded like a joke, but the punch was on them when he patted his brother's shoulder. “He used to create the most marvelous banquets and parties for our guests, back in Asgard. Thanks to his knowledge and creativity, everybody always had fun, no matter where they were from or what we were celebrating.”
“It's amusing that our arrival here coincide with the greatest celebration on this side of the Earth,” Loki picked up. “The timing is perfect. We will use this Christmas occasion to let the humans know what pleasant neighbors we will be.”
“Banner already began to introduce the people of Asgard to the traditional concepts of the holiday. They are most excited to discover it.”
“Wait, wait,” Tony managed to interrupt, pulling himself out of his stupor. “You can't -you can't just -start mixing with the humans. Thor, I don't think you realise what you're doing. The people here are not all overjoyed to have you guys down here. Specifically your party manager who is still a war criminal.”
As he said it, his gaze accidentally locked with Loki's shiny emerald eyes. The guy was smiling at him, and it was the most unnerving thing. He should have looked murderous or at least angry or -or however you looked when you were plotting revenge. But Loki just smiled. A smile that looked sincere. Right, god of lies. It was... Not pleasant. Well, it was. He had a nice smile, honestly. A beautiful face. If you didn't know who he was. Tony would have loved for another man to look at him like that, standing tall and elegant like Loki did. But that was the thing. It wasn't just any othr man.
“It is precisely because the mortals do not trust us that we must teach them otherwise, Anthony Stark,” Loki said with a smooth voice. “I am well aware that there is much work to be done, and the sooner, the better. I was hoping, in fact, that you would be willing to lend me a hand in this task.”
“What, me?”
The god had the nerve to give a single little nod, still staring right at him. Tony stared back, vaguely aware of Thor not stepping in, which meant he agreed to this bullshit. The other Avengers looked as confused as he was. Except Natasha. She raised an eyebrow at him like well, that's an obvious choice. Sure, when you were trained to kill with a spoon, he supposed it was easier to get closer to psychopaths with no fear. Loki may look good and calm, but he was still a snake ready to strike, right?
“Look, I think we might want to wait a little before we pull something like that, Snowflake. You'll excuse me for not trusting you just yet.”
“Anthony, my friend,” Thor started, but Loki raised a calming hand.
“No, I understand completely. I know you to be the smartest man of this team,” he said. “And I know that you also have no desire at all to believe in me. Which is why I insist that you accept. We will do great things together, Mr. Stark, and I will prove to you that my intentions, now, are pure.”
He smiled. Again. Head just a little tilted, looking at him under the shadow of his brow, waiting. He looked so very confident that Tony would accept. God, what an unnerving bastard . When he turned to look at her, Natasha pointed at Loki with her chin. He looked at her in betrayal. She did it again. As for Thor, eyepatch and all, he still looked like a kicked puppy waiting for his answer. Tony hated him a little.
“I want it on the record that I am not given any choice,” he said toward the other Avengers. “I also want it said that I know this will be a disaster but I am doing what I must for the greater good. Let everyone know that when we're all dead.”
Loki bursted out laughing. In a moment, he was next to Tony, arm wrapped around his shoulders. Tony startled; the material of that armor he was wearing was shockingly soft, and he was so stupidly tall. He didn't want to give him the satisfaction, so he wrapped his arm right back around Loki's waist and squeezed, playing his game. The tall idiot didn't even flinch, like he was used to this.
“I will do something amazing, with your help. And I can tell it will be an awful lot of fun.”
“You asked for it, pal. I'll be watching you very closely,” Tony warned.
“Oh, I count on it.” Loki smiled at him.
–
He expected the worst, and somehow, he was still baffled with what he got.
They were invited to stay into the ship. It was not of great comfort, but it felt like they should probably not complain after the weeks of space travel the Asgardians had gone through. They were assigned tiny rooms made to house four people at a time in two bunker beds. Tony was assigned the top bed facing Loki's. Underneath, Bucky was a silent, but reassuring presence. A nameless Asgardian occupied the last bed. It was hard to get a feeling of what sort of character he was; he was on the night crew, as Loki explained when Tony inquired.
Started within the hour of the arrival, the New Asgard was slowly coming to look like something. Women with complicated hairstyles and fancy dresses and big viking men alike worked night and day at cutting down trees and building up walls. As far as Tony could see, they were relentlessly putting together some kind of longhouse, maybe a hall. Their work was chaotic at best, unorganized, and doomed to fail in the outsider's eye; but somehow, they never got past the quota of trees they were allowed to chop down, and the one lonely hall was taking form.
Loki explained on the first day that he wanted humans to come forward and meet them, and that the New Asgard would have no borders other than the walls around each bed. Thor agreed in the background; and while Tony soon discovered the Asgardian people to be very opiniated, it appeared everybody was following along with their prince's decision.
“We suffered great losses, Anthony,” Thor said grimly when Tony asked if they shouldn't maybe ask for the people's opinion. “Our people need to feel that they are in strong, capable hands.”
“Don't you think they deserve a choice? To rest and settle down, before throwing parties?”
“We have to heal. Waiting will not help in that.”
Tony was not sure about that. He also was really, really not sure about inviting fragile, soft little humans near the space vikings, and being blamed for the consequences. But then again, he had agreed to help, and no matter how badly this could go, he would do his best to make it work out. There really was nothing else to do. Literally. Nothing. Life was unfair.
As for Loki himself, well. He wasn't sure what he had expected. The battle of New York had been five years ago already; it made sense, maybe, that Loki was not the man he had been back then. Tony wasn't, after all. But villains were not supposed to change, grow, evolve. Not physically, not mentally. And Loki... Had done both? Sure, his look had changed. He was just generally less spiky and greasy and angsty. His hair looked soft. His clothes were soft. His face was smiling, with less sneer and threat than back then. But that didn't make him more trustworthy, did it? Just harder to remember how much wrong he had done, all that time ago.
As for his behaviour, it was, of course, hard to judge. Loki then had been, again, spiky. He had been leering, sneering, threatening. He had looked sick and mad. It was not something hard to improve on. But still -seeing him now, smiling, speaking with the same eloquence, but in a tone much less spiteful... He looked human, this time. Or, rather, like a person, instead of a threat, a monster. It was hard to ignore that.
But he had to try. He had to watch him very carefully to be there to stop him if he had to. He had to work with him for the good of Asgard, and keep close to him for the good of Earth. He'd never enjoyed leaving it all to hope.
“So, what do you need me for, Hugo Boss?” He asked openly on day one of their cooperation.
They'd slept in the same room for the first time, and nobody had woken up dead, which was a small victory. They'd left each other only for a few minutes, to freshen up in the small water room that they shared with the next cabin. Loki had showed up with an impeccable black two-piece two-buttons suit. And his horns.
“Breakfast first, Tony Stark. Breakfast first.”
They met with the rest of Asgard, and the other Avengers, in a big sort of hall with beardy men sitting around tables, spoon-feeding little kids or drinking from big mugs. It was, Tony decided, something of a cross between a high school cafeteria and a wedding party: loud, a little intimidating, generally friendly. Thor actually ate with his people, which was probably a good PR move, but meant there were no empty seats around him. Loki and he found a nearly empty table; two women bowed their head at their prince, a man raised a fist to his heart. Loki nodded back at them. He didn't look too megalomaniac then, Tony judged.
In the center of the table was a big plate with bread rolls, a bowl filled with mysterious red fruits and bottles full of honey-colored juice. From what Tony could see, this was the standart meal for everyone. He took a piece of bread and examined it, finding it looked and smelled somewhat like baguette.
“How did you find the time to stock up on food before you left?”
“We didn't,” Loki said, biting into a fruit. Then, with a small gesture of the strawberry-like thing toward the rest of the hall, which explained nothing: “This is very important for Asgard. Feasts are a communal things. Baths must be public. We'll have to organize for a weekly market outside. That's why the celebration is important. We lost hundreds of lives recently. We need to give a sense of community back to the people.”
“That doesn't say how you got the food. You guys bath together?”
“Don't you humans?”
“Judging from that smile, you know we don't.”
Loki tilted his head, as if to admit to his guilt, which certainly was a first. Bantering with him was strange. It got Tony's heart pounding, fearing for an attack; but when nothing came, he was left staring, staring at Loki. He finished his fruit, still not caring to explain where it came from, and licked his lips. Tony noticed for the first time how thin they were, those lips. A pretty big mouth, too. Ah.
“So,” said Loki. “We have much work to do. Six days left to prepare for Christmas.”
“Can I just be the first to point out that this will be a blasphemy to Christian people everywhere?”
“The Christian stuck their noses in norse business first.”
“Won't the Asgardians be reluctant to celebrate it?”
“Gift-giving and feast-making are not exclusive activities to the mortals, Tony Stark. Trust me.”
“We established that I won't do that until you give me very good reasons to. And stop calling me by my full name. It's unnerving.”
“How am I to address you, then?”
Tony had not expected the honest question. Loki looked at him in curiosity as he suckled at his fruit. His lips did twisty little things and his pink tongue showed up briefly to pick up a lost drop of juice. And he looked at him. Tony was finding it hard to remember what he should want to say.
“Tony, perhaps?”
“We're not that close, Reindeer Games,” Tony said, and reached for the juice. His tongue felt dry.
“I'll call you what you will, if you would in return call me Loki. What about... Mister Stark?”
Oh no. No. No no no no. Don't go there, Tony. Don't go there. Nuh-uh.
“That sounds good, actually. Deal.”
“Excellent. Then, Mr. Stark, we can get to the serious business.”
For gods of Chaos and of fucking shit up, getting to serious business passed through some serious deals. As a show of his new-found good will, after breakfast, Loki gathered Thor, Bruce and Valkyrie to witness him as he made promises to Tony to hurt not a single human, nor to concoct any plan to bring harm to any human, nor to create any plans that could lead to a human being harmed.
When Tony remarked that it was all well and good, but that all of those reformulations did little to reassure him, Thor smiled fondly, and explained that the oath of a god as Loki had given it was serious business.
“If he were to betray his words, in spirit or in fact, then Loki would be severely punished by his own essence.”
“So?”
“My magic would turn against me and destroy me alive,” Loki clarified cheerfully. “Now that this is cleared up, Mr. Stark. Please take me to a shopping mall.”
–
Tony had no legitimate reasons to refuse Loki's demand. So he accepted. They took a quinjet all the way to Oslo, and from there, a more discreet cab brought them to a medium sized mall. Of course, the place was packed with normal people, doing their late Christmas shopping. Tony wanted to warn them to go away, at first, and then he wanted to shout at them to go away as he was reminded of just how much he hated physical shopping and proximity with large crowds. Loki seemed intrigued and excited. Nobody bumped into him .
“This place is ridiculous,” Loki said with a huge smile. “Is it like this everywhere?”
“It's worse in America,” Tony said, taking in the signs everywhere with slashed Os and As with little circles on top of them. “Where are we going?”
“Let's just walk around for now. I must get a feel of this ambiance.”
“I just can't decide if you're making fun of us all or if you're actually doing this seriously.”
“I assure you, I am entirely serious. What is this place? What do they sell?”
So that was how Tony ended up walking around a Norwegian mall, following an ancient god who didn't know what a newspaper kiosk was. He did his best to put aside his annoyance and his fear, trying to fulfill his part of the deal as he explained: those guys sold tea. Those guys sold kitchen appliances. Those guys sold shoes. Loki seemed intrigued about every new thing, but usually quickly nodded in understanding and moved to the next window.
“How come nobody is bumping into you?” Tony grumbled after being nearly squished by a big woman who had leaned over to look at a dress in a window without noticing him.
“You are rather small, in her defense.”
“Fuck you.”
“Oh, books!”
“Figures you'd be a nerd.”
Loki didn't act any more offended by that quip than by the previous one, advancing into the small bookshop he had discovered. A carpet of synthetic snow led to a table covered in various presents ideas: cookbooks, business books, political books, from the look of them, all in Norwegian. Loki didn't seem bothered, looking through them excitedly.
“Do Norse Gods like sushis?” Tony questioned, irritated and amused both. Sure, he wasn't setting the mall on fire, but really? This was not the world saving he had agreed to.
“I do,” Loki said. “What's this?”
“I don't read Norwegian.”
“It says, Success happens before 7.”
“Great, you read Norwegian. That's a motivational book about the benefits of waking up early.”
“That's all? In hundreds of pages?”
“Can't say. I didn't read it.”
“Where's the history section? And the fiction?”
“I can't see how this is for the benefit of Asgard.”
“That's because it's for my benefit. We still have six days.”
There was little to answer to that. Tony shoved his hands in his pockets, wondering about his life, his choices. He saw the cashier looking at them in vague confusion and waved. She smiled unsurely,
“How come nobody is staring at you?” He wondered as Loki progressed through the piles of books. “The horns are a pretty big giveaway. And you did kill a lot of people the last time you were here.”
“I'm not even here, and neither are my horns,” Loki replied lightly. “See?”
There was a small tingle in the air, something immaterial and difficult to catch up, like a subtle change of temperature or a barely there perfume: cold, snow, pine needles, something, something. Tony blinked and tried to understand, but Loki just smiled, done with using his magic. He stood unrecognisable, hair shorter and wavy, suit more humble, horns gone. He looked like himself. But, god, he looked human. He looked good .
“I see where you got the God of Lies thing.”
“Oh, are these recordings?”
Loki discovered CDs and DVDs with uncontained joy. Tony kept his eyes on him, displeased and confused both, as he looked through the summaries of dozens of movies and TV shows, ranging from Wonder Woman to Vikings to I want a dog for Christmas Charlie Brown. The true drama came, though, when an employee asked Loki if he wanted to listen to some of the CDs he was looking at. From the moment Loki had the headphones on, there was nothing else to do, and Tony felt absurdly like a teenager doomed to wait for the end of his mother's conversation with a friend.
“I'll just be around here,” he said after literally half an hour of Loki being enthralled by Norse metal bands. “Don't go anywhere without telling me, got it?”
He looked around for a present for Pepper or Happy, considering a rice-cooker and a frog-shaped speaker (this was a strange library). He had the time to start to recognise some Norwegian words on besteller books, and to start a deaf-and-mute conversation with a pretty employee who seemed to half-recognise him. Eventually, the man from the disks section came back to him, seeming somewhat alarmed.
“Unnskyld meg? Herr? Det er... Vennen din...”
They couldn't find a translator around, but Tony immediately knew where to look for the cause of the poor man's trouble. He quickly moved back toward the station, reaching into his pocket for the ring that could turn to an armor gauntlet and looking for the dead bodies already, guilt gnawing at his guts.
“Er han greit?”
Ah.
Loki stood with the headphones still on, a fist closed on his lips like he was fighting his sorrow. His bright pale eyes were shiny with tears. He was nodding slowly to the unknown music he was listening. As Tony watched, he moved a hand up to press the back button, then closed his eyes with emotions.
“Hey, Loki?” He tried after a few seconds of shock. Then, when no answer came, he carefully reached for his arm and shook. “Loki? Seriously?”
At last, the god was looking at him. Thor knew the puppy look, but Loki was worse. Tony felt the immediate urge to wrap a blanket around him and to tell him everything was going to be okay. He could see why the employee had been so worried.
“Mr. Stark, I require human money,” Loki said with a sore throat as he removed the headphones.
He didn't even think to question it, and would only much later wonder about being manipulated into paying for nonsense. He paid, with no hesitation, for the many titles Loki brought to the counter: movies, most of them Christmas classics, CDs, with no noticeable connection between them. The god discreetly dried his tears into his sleeve as he paid. It took this long for Tony to see the title that had so wrecked him emotionnally.
Yes, ladies and gentlemen. Loki of Asgard cried to the Frozen soundtrack.
He stored this information away carefully, because he honestly couldn't figure out what to do with it. Except, maybe, ensure that the guy never watched the actual movie.
–
“Okay, Snowflake. I'd say that was a worthy introduction to, uh, the Christmas spirit. So how about we go back to the ship now? I think you need some rest.”
“Wait -Mr. Stark, please. What is happening over there?”
What was happening over there was Santa Claus sitting little Norwegian kids on his knees and listening to their little Norwegian Christmas wishes. It was louder and more agitated there than anywhere in the mall, with an endless waiting line of exasperated parents and crying children, teenagers in elves outfits and fake huge presents.
“A nightmare?” Tony suggested with a shudder.
“This is the man?” Loki was not crying anymore. Maybe that had changed Tony's perspective on him, but the effect was the same: it was disturbing to see a grown man who looked like a model looking at Santa in pure amazement. “He listens to the children and give them what they want?”
Apparently, they were walking toward Santa's hellish world of fake snow and glittering trees now. Tony held to the bags of books and movies, huffing a little in concern.
“This is a man pretending to be the man. Kids say what they want to have and Santa nods and parents take notes. You're close enough to watch from here.”
“Who's the woman?”
“Uh -seeing the wings, I'm guessing a fairy.”
“And the people in green?”
“Santa's helpers.”
“Amazing. Wait for me here, please.”
“What? Where do you want to g- oh no! No no no! Loki? No!”
But his poor human reflexes and protests came much too late. Loki, within instants, had actually... shrunked. Tony would have believed he had just crouched or fallen to his knees, but there was no mistaking the sight before him: a boy, no older than eight, with mischievious little green eyes, short black hair, little round cheeks.
“Dude, we are not doing this. I'm not letting you do this.”
“I wanna see SANTA!”
“Loki, don't you dare-”
But Baby-Loki dared . He spun on his heels and ran right to Santa's throne, moving through the waiting line like an agile little snake, ignoring words of protest to make it to the front of the waiting line. Tony grimaced, standing tensed and unsure for a few seconds before rushing after him.
“S'cuze-me -apologies, sorry, sorry Ma'am, Loki come here!”
Loki was arguing with the lady who had been waiting for her turn with her baby daughters; there was no understanding what was being said, but then, the little boy actually started to tear up. This time, it was clearly a ploy; yet nobody could resist his stupid kicked kitten eyes. He was stammering and stuttering and sniffling and pointing at Tony, who didn't like the looks being thrown at him. He didn't want to be mistaken for Loki's incompetent dad, thank you very much. He wanted to apologise, but the deed was done. An elf took Loki's hand and led him up to Santa's throne. With unnervingly convincing innocence, the godling sat on the bearded actor's knee.
“This was not part of our deal, you little brat,” Tony grumbled when, finally, Loki walked back to him, and they were allowed to leave. “What was the meaning of that?”
People were still staring in disapproval. Loki took his hand in his, drying his nose into his sleeve. He didn't dare shake him off and yell, but he was starting to be all out of good will.
“I just wanted to see how it worked,” Loki said quietly.
“And? Satisfied with the dude's acting skill and synthetic fur?”
“No,” Loki said, with a little pout that looked entirely authentic, this time. Then, after a pause: “He wouldn't promise for a new helmet.”
As they walked outside to get a cab, Tony ended up noticing Kid-Loki was wearing an Avengers T-shirt. He didn't know what to make of this information.
–
With that particular experience behind them, Tony was just glad to be back in New Asgardia. Thor was busy, but he made time that evening to eat with them in a small room on the ship. The other Avengers had spent the day helping around the refugee camp, setting up the ARK reactor Tony had offered as a source of independent energy, tending to the wounded, working with them on the construction. Now they sat together in a spaceship, eating...
“What sort of meat is that, Thor?”
“Children hunted it,” the king offered. “But don't worry. I am told they are not of the protected kind.”
“Squirrels,” Loki supplied.
To the discomfort of everyone sitting around the table, the trickster god had elected to shape-shift yet again. His female appearance was actually quite similar to his usual one: tall, pale, refined. He wore a dress, now, Asgardian-style, golden and green with a high collar and delicate leather sleeves. He had very (very) obvious breasts now and his hair was colored with golden pearls, but aside from that, he still looked dangerous and elegant, very much like himself.
It made Tony's stomach do unpleasant little twists in his belly, clearly trying to feel things he didn't want to feel. This dude was a bisexual good guy's nightmare.
“You seem in a good mood, my sister,” Thor said with a fond smile. “I trust your adventure with Tony Stark went well.”
“Oh, Mr. Stark was very helpful,” Loki ensured lightly. “And I can't deny, this particular holiday seems a lot more fun than expected.”
“You're enjoying Christmas?” Clint sounded either like the squirrel meat was making him sick, or something else was.
“Mmh-mmh,” Loki agreed, waving her fork for emphasis. “It's delightful. The snow, the secrets, the anticipation, surprises, gifts. It's chaotic, it's fun. Aren't you excited, little bird?”
“Do not call me that if you don't want me to gift you an arrow through the eye.”
“Clint,” Steve interfered.
“Loki,” Thor disapproved.
Clint glared. Loki played innocent. Seconds passed.
“We Avengers usually do a gift exchange. Or -I mean, we used to,” Bruce said, with a nervous look around.
“Still a thing, big guy.”
“Is it?” Strange wondered.
“Right. So -Thor, Valkyrie... Um, Loki. If you're not too busy here, maybe we could keep the tradition going. Just a small thing, together? Everyone is assigned another person, secretly, and must get them a gift for the 24th.”
Thor immediately agreed with a big smile. Valkyrie didn't seem entirely sure, but nodded; possibly, Tony decided, in the hope of picking Natasha. There was something odd happening between them. As for Loki, no one was actually surprised when she nodded.
They tore little pieces of paper into Thor's forgotten helmet, then picked blindly, one after the other. Tony was actually relieved when he got Bucky's name, which was saying something. Loki just pocketed her paper with a simple smile. Thor hit Bruce in the back with a loud laugh, proclaiming that he would never guess what would be his present.
As the supper ended and they all went their separate ways, Tony went outside for a small emergency, not wanting to wait ten minutes for the little bathroom. When he stepped back into the ship, he was surprised to see Steve waiting for him, arms crossed, looking dead serious.
“Everything alright, Cap?”
“Actually, I wanted to talk to you for a minute. How was it? Today? With Loki?”
“Oh -hey, thanks for asking. It's been... Really weird, to be honest,” Tony replied, looking around to make sure the bastard wasn't lurking in a corner. “Done some shopping. Looked at rice-cookers. He didn't try to kill anyone. I don't know what I expected. It's been years, you know?”
It was the first time in a long while he was grateful for Steve's 'Let's Talk About Our Feelings' policy. It felt nice to be able to just say it out loud and get that nod of understanding out of the Captain.
“He's changed,” Steve agreed. “Are you still afraid of him?”
“I was never afraid of that guy,” he said quickly. “It's -I mean, I don't trust him. I'm still pissed at him. He's a bad guy. But he doesn't scare me. I just... wish I had some reasons to trust him.”
“Thor trusts him, and he's the one Loki stabbed in the back the most often. I think we probably have no better option than to go with his opinion.”
“Yeah, well. The big guy could share his references with the class, if he wants us to trust his bro. Anyway, I'm going to get some rest. You and Bucky alright? They gave you a shared bed?”
He expected either for a blush or for the confused stare he got. Satisfied, he patted at Steve's shoulder as he passed by him, moving toward his shared cabin.
–
When he woke up the next day, the world had changed.
Asgardians, it turned out, were fast workers. The big hall they were building was already nearly done, walls standing tall and proud as teenage boys worked on the structure of a roof. Inside, people worked with rakes and shovels to flatten the ground.
Oh yeah, also, the ship? Covered in Christmas lights. And every door now had a Christmas wreath on it. Happy Holidays, everyone.
When Tony made it to the dining room, guarlands hung from the ceiling. When he found his way outside, tall pine trees had grown from apparently nowhere and were now covered in ornaments.
When he found Thor and Loki, he considered whether he was stuck in a deep coma and all this was an elaborate nightmare. Thor was wearing a festive Santa hat. Loki was actually, honest-to-god-ly, wearing reindeer antlers.
They both had Christmas sweaters, but that didn't seem quite as relevant, actually.
Both brothers were looking on the progress of the hall being built, deep in conversation about space management. Thor was asking about funeral chambers, while Loki argued something about needing to gather “Volurs” first. He was the first to notice Tony gaping at them.
“Good morning, Mr. Stark. Slept well?”
“Nice antlers, Rudolph. Aren't you guys being just... a bit intense on the celebrating?”
“This is but a nice party,” Thor said. “There will be no exaggeration, I assure you. The alcohol will be shared evenly, and we do not have much of it left.”
“I actually wanted to ask for your help,” Loki continued cheerfully. “The children are unfamiliar with the celebration to come. I wanted to show them some of the movies we purchased yesterday, but I believe I will need a device to read through the encoding. Can you perhaps furnish us with one?”
“I thought you two were talking about funerals, a second ago.” Which should not be done with fake antlers and Santa hats, he did not add.
“Oh, nobody is dead. We're just discussing priorities: prisons, graveyards, schools, healing chambers. There is a lot of work to be done.”
“For now, the Great Hall will be ready in time for our first celebration,” Loki explained. “It's a good start.”
“That... Sounds like something, yes,” Tony said. “You know, if you guys need help, I can get Pepper here. Or people from Stark Industries who are used to organising and stuff. It sounds like a lot of work for just the two of you.”
He meant it. Not only was a guilty part of him wondering about whether a blond labrador full of hugs and love and a scheming little weasel were the good choice to take care of three thousand homeless aliens, but he could really feel some empathy about the responsabilities the two princes were burdened with. The Asgardians, he was coming to realise, were entirely fine with trusting their unstable royal rulers with their life. It was probably a terrifying privilege, to stand there at the top.
“We were trained for this, Mr. Stark,” Loki said softly. “But we appreciate your offer. If you would help me ensure that the people can celebrate and forget some of their sorrow, for a night -then...”
“We will both be grateful,” Thor said solemnly.
“Sure, buddy. I'm going to call for that TV, that's not a big deal.”
“Excellent,” said Loki. “Oh, and I need a throne.”
–
Do it for the children, Tony. Not for the crazy god, just for the children.
Yeah. It was always for the children. How did he always end up falling for that?
Oh, but sure , he didn't have to. In fact, Loki would not mind playing the part himself. He really didn't mind carrying on. And it was so easy for him to disguise, he didn't want it to be a bother for Tony.
Right. Like there wasn't some unwritten super-hero code about letting villains disguise as Santa. Reformed villains. Whatever.
The worst part was that Thor, and the parents, and everyone, seemed totally chill with it.
Have you been a good boy this year, Harald?
Yes, Sire Santa!
And what would make you happy this Christmas?
An axe, Sire! So I can challenge my sister to a duel to the death!
Oh, a good axe does make the difference for those, Harald. Well, Santa will take a note, and maybe, if you're good until Christmas and eat your fruits, he'll bring you a nice axe, yes? Good boy. What's your name, little one?
Siegrid, Sire! I want a battlehorse!
Ah, Santa's afraid that's a bit of a big gift. How about a battlegoat?
For the children's sake, Tony put on the big red pants, and the pillow under his big red coat, and a big fake beard. For the children's sake, Tony was ridiculous.
He sat on the throne, and promised little Eriks, Helgas and Thorgals to visit them on Christmas night. It was ten minutes later that a kind fairy in a huge poofy dress came to stand next to him, chirping about taking notes and asking little kids for their name.
Loki hadn't bothered to change sex to disguise into a fairy. He looked ridiculous, in that dress. He looked way too good, in that dress.
–
Days... Went by. Weirdly. Tony went to sleep wondering if he would wake up, and woke up wondering if was still sleeping. Two days before Christmas, the winter wonderland turned into a Norse blizzard, which covered the ship in nearly two feet of snow. It didn't stop the Asgardians from going outside with only a piece of fur around their neck, working on the hall and chasing snow rabbits.
Loki turned blue. He claimed it was due to the weather change, but Tony didn't know if he wanted to buy it. He'd seen Loki complaining that it was cold (and on that day, he had turned to a huge angora cat who'd left cat hair everywhere in the room). All he knew was that blue Loki was so chill (ha, ha) that he walked around shirtless and that it made him warm all over again.
On day one to Christmas, Steve came to see him when he was alone. And he asked how things were going with Loki, agreeing that it was hard to trust the guy, but that they should probably try. He blushed hard when Tony asked him about that shared bed with Bucky.
Great.
It felt impossible, but within a week of their arrival, the Space Vikings were deep into the Christmas spirit. They didn't mind that it was a party meant for another religion: some of them were nodding sagely to the songs about baby Jesus.
“Well, he seemed like a very reasonable sort of God,” Thor said one day. “I don't see why we can't all get along in the spirit of gift-receiving and food-eating.”
“The mistletoe had to go, though,” Loki said with a grave little nod. “It brings some bad memories.”
“Bad kisses?”
“Murders.”
“Ah.”
“We considered using some other, more innocent plant for the kissing tradition,” Thor said, “but Loki decided it might be best to forego that idea altogether.”
“Right. I can -yeah. Loki, can you walk with me for a minute?”
The god seemed taken aback by that demand. He actually looked at Thor, but Thor didn't seem to notice. Apparently remembering that he was a strong independent god who didn't need no brother, he gave a single nod and joined Tony, picking up his pace as they headed back into the ships' endless, dead hallways.
“Is there something you wished to speak of?”
“Is there something you want to start talking about?”
Loki blinked, but did not answer. He kept walking along, probably on reflex. Tony walked into their cabin, and the door slid back closed once they had both stepped inside. He turned to squint at the god.
“Well?” Loki questioned after a few seconds, raising his hands to his side in a questioning gesture.
“JARVIS?” Immediatly, the suit flew right out of its case, and locked itself all around him. He had the pleasure of seeing Loki stiffen and move back a half-step. “Okay, Mother Christmas. You made your promise not to harm humans. What's the endgame, then? You better start talking now.”
“I really do not see what this is all about,” Loki said. He looked honestly shocked and maybe a little insulted. Liar, right?
“I've seen enough of your play. Cute little kid you, sexy chick you, sexy human you, whatever, and then all of this -pretending to care for Christmas, to be so excited, prepping so much stuff. Nobody changes that much. And then, pretending to be Steve to convince me?”
“I knew I should have gone with a less obvious choice,” Loki grimaced. “But I assure you...”
“Don't try to spin the story to sound prettier.” He let the mask lift, looking at Loki in the eye, and raised a gloved hand up at him. “Tell me. Your plan.”
Loki didn't say anything for a few seconds. He looked... Well, it was hard to read his look. His jaws were hard and his eyes were still. Tony's heart beat hard as he waited. Waited to know. To understand.
Then, slowly:
“Maven, would you leave us alone for a moment?”
Tony didn't quite understand until he heard movement behind him. A baffled-looking Asgardian woman with short blond hair rose from the fourth bed of the room, bowed slightly to Loki, and moved wordlessly outside. Tony felt a wave of embarrassment. Right. Night crew.
“Now,” Loki started again, voice slow, and articulating each word slowly. “I'm afraid I will disappoint you, Tony Stark. It seems you do not know me quite as well as you think, nor as well as I hoped. There is no secret plan. My kingdom has fallen to pieces. My father is dead. My brother has grown. I am alone, with no trust and no love.”
“Am I supposed to pity you?”
“If you do, then truly I do not know you either as I thought I do,” Loki said drily, folding his arms. “I have nothing, Stark. Nothing but this opportunity. When granted it, I couldn't decide if I wanted to set it on fire or try to use it to my advantage. Surely that doesn't feel familiar to you, who called yourself a phoenix?”
Tony didn't answer, frowning. He didn't wonder much how Loki knew -it didn't feel surprising that the guy knew everything. But the comparison didn't feel like one he could understand.
“You don't go just that easily from a murderer to Santa's elf, Loki. I don't buy it. And if you do, just for your own sake, then it means you're no better than you were,” he insisted, arm still raised.
Loki just looked at him, then scoffed, with a half-smile, and shrugged. He seemed to be ready to just let it all drop. He seemed... Again. Sincere. Liar?
“I'm a being of cold and chaos. You did not quite see me at my best. If I were given a choice... Well, that Santa mythology sound much funnier than the one I grew up with. But things are what they are, yes, Stark?”
“This is it? You want me to believe you just reformed yourself?”
“Believe in whatever god you will,” Loki said with that smile, smaller and quieter and joyless. Honest. This time, honest. “If that is all, you'll have to excuse me. I have no shortage of tasks that need to be done.”
–
After that... There was nothing left to do, but to ponder Loki's strange answers. He went to bed and the god wasn't back in their cabin. On the 24th, he woke up and thought that this would be a very strange year to think back on.
When he made it to the dining room, it was entirely empty. He and Bruce put on their winter coat to head outside, and found the hall ready: a wooden house, with smoke coming out of the chimney, the roof covered in soft glistening slow and colorful guarlands hanging from the side. The inside was loud and warm, impossibly bigger than it looked from the outside. Long tables sat side by side, here and there interrupted by Christmas trees covered in fake (or where they?) icicles and ornaments of gold. Everyone was eating, and it was strange to observe, but it felt like the entire atmosphere had changed with the location, from practical and stern to excited and full of life.
Thor was sitting at the biggest table: perpendicular to all others, it welcomed the other Avengers, and Valkyrie, and Heimdall and Eir and all of those other important Asgardians they'd met. Tony was briefly reminded of the professor table in the Great Hall at Hogwarts, and half expected to find the sky instead of the ceiling when he looked up.
“I think I never saw anything so weirdly festive,” Bruce remarked quietly.
“Yeah, they're weird refugees,” Tony agreed with a weight in his stomach.
At first, he thought it was Loki, the thought of him, and his nonsense, and his pretty face and the danger around him that was keeping him tense.
Then, as he sat with Thor, and the one-eyed god of Thunder raised a mug of -yes, of course, of eggnog- right at him, and wished him a Happy Eve of Christmas, he realised it was so much more human, and normal, and him, and lame.
He'd never seen a party like this. So earnest and excited and traditional. So inviting. So beautiful. He'd organised and attented his share of celebrations in his life, but always with some disdain, some discomfort. He'd never enjoyed the party like everyone else did. He didn't feel the anticipation of family time and gifts and traditions. There was no family time at Christmas for the Stark household, when even Jarvis was busy somewhere and Tony was watching cartoons through the night, waiting for his parent's returns. Even now, even with the Avengers, he'd never really wanted to stay. He gave expensive things with no ideas in them. Then he went back to his workshop after a couple of glasses.
Those space vikings, Thor, Loki, their people -they just came in and enjoyed the celebration right away, acting like it was their own, like they were entitled to party on. Like they didn't have a thousand reasons to be sad and grim instead.
Weird refugees indeed. He sipped his eggnog and looked around the table. No Loki, of course.
–
The evening came faster than should have been possible. As the darkness fell, the impossible scene of a gigantic space ship and a wooden house lit up with a thousand lights felt like a nostalgic piece of art. The Asgardians were excited and loud, cheerfully playing in the snow and preparing for the feast. Even the Avengers were infected, hurriedly wrapping presents and teasing each other. Steve was unironically wearing an ugly sweater.
Loki's participation was immediately recognisable as one stepped into the warmth of the hall: Lordi's Hard Rock Hallelujah was blasting from some invisible speakers, followed arbitrarily by Hanukkah oh Hanukkah , Do you want to build a Snowman or Bohemian Rhapsody . Asgardian logic worked in mysterious ways. Or maybe Loki just did what he wanted.
The feast itself was impressive. No squirrel this time for sure. There were gigantic golden turkeys straight out of the oven, cranberry sauce, small breads spiced with herbs, Asgardian booze, roasted vegetables that looked like potatoes but were not. Somehow, the plates were never empty, even though there was not a waiter in sight.
Tony just sat at the main table, wondering where the food did come from. At the very least, Thor reassured him: nobody was playing Santa with the kids. Nobody would believe in him without a real show of magic, and since magic was a very distinctive thing, it would be easy to recognise a pretender. Which was good, because Tony didn't want to be there when small children would be handed their knives and swords.
Eventually, Loki showed up. Unsurprisingly, it coincided with the beginning of the end of the party. Everyone was drinking adult drinks. As the evening progressed, the younglings and the families started to leave, to another room of the (seemingly infinite) building, where a projection of Dr. Seuss' Grinch cartoon was displayed. Tony decided there was something very Loki-ish about the Grinch's slythering on the floor. Also, you know, green, and vicious, and confusing. Not quite cute, though.
When some version of A Christmas's Carol started to play, he moved back to the main hall. Alcohol was doing its thing: everyone was cheerful and singing and toasting to Baby Jesus and Thor. Thor was hugging Loki very hard, telling him he loved him very much. Loki was stabbing Thor, although he did it without much convincing, which was probably his way of saying he loved him too. Near them, Natasha and Valkyrie were having a nice chat, their cheeks tinted pink, presumably from the many empty shot glasses around them. Bruce was drinking with a pile of rock. The usual.
It made him feel nostalgic and sad and jealous.
“How about that Secret Santa, guys?” He called loud enough to get the attention of the Avengers.
“It's not Midnight yet,” Steve protested in his ugly sweater, eating little cocktail sausages and holding Bucky's hand underneath the table.
“Yes, gifts!” Thor proclaimed, and let go of his brother, mindless of the minor flesh wounds in his abdomen.
“Gifts, indeed,” Loki said, brushing his clothes with dignity like he wasn't wearing a sweater with a friendly penguin on it. “Who should begin?”
Bruce began, handing Natasha a poorly wrapped but tastily chosen oversized hoodie. The spy, deep in her alcohol, gave him a kiss thank you, patting his cheek gently and saying she missed him. Before it could get any worse, Thor gave Bruce his own gift: a massive warhammer he pulled out of absolutely nowhere. Bruce, still pink and troubled, couldn't lift it, but Thor seemed very proud of explaining that he deserved a weapon worthy of him.
It kept going that way for a while. Tony gave Bucky a Captain America hat and warm gloves with touchscreen fingers, so his left hand could be of use with a tablet. Bucky gave Strange first a weary look, then a pineapple. Strange was forced to accept. There were advantages to being a traumatized soldier. You could get away with that.
The drama really began when Strange gave his gift. It went to Loki, which couldn't end well. The god squinted, then tore through the wrapping. He dropped his gift on the floor, then, and produced two sharp, murderous looking daggers, standing up straight and wordlessly to try slashing at their magician's throat. The Asgardians that were still lingering around cheered at the fighting while Thor and Clint interfered to avoid ending Christmas with a dead body, but with the toy magic kit on the floor, things still degenerated quickly into a furious shouting match. Loki still looked sober, but it was obvious Strange had underestimated space booze. Hurtful things were said about goat horns, blue skin and shaky hands, all ending with a generally disrespectful debate about who out of them was a true sorcerer, magician, master of the mystic arts, seidrmaðr, etc, etc.
By then, the night was well advanced. It took the help of several of them to keep the fight from getting worse when they started getting worrisome feelings of déjà-vu again and again while Strange stumbled, staring at Loki's rapid shape-shifting with an offended pout. Tony and Bruce ended up having to help the Doctor to his bed and were just grateful that the big red cape closed around him like a vampire blanket so they didn't have to undress him.
When they made it back to the main hall, the party was definitely verging on finished. Most of the citizens had left; and at the table, all those who had enjoyed Asgardian alcohol were gone to sleep, either in their room or on the table. Loki had disappeared. Peter, whom Tony had forced to drink nothing but orange juice, was still looking pretty droozy.
“I'm going to sleep,” he said. “Night-night Tony. Merry Christmas.”
Tony allowed him a hug, and it was only because Peter was tired, not because he was way too cute for words, especially with the big BB-8 plushie he had received from Steve and was sleepily holding onto as he left.
Thor appeared ready to keep eating and drinking all night long. Tony left him in good hands with the few surviving Avengers. Heavy with food and wondering, he was ready to head straight to bed, but paused when he stepped outside.
There was a small crowd gathered out, underneath the biggest pine tree Tony had ever seen, which... Had definitely not been there before. It was covered in luminous gold decorations, and the Asgardians were chatting and laughing all around it, looking incredibly alive and excited, considering the time of night and the previous party. Children ran around, adults spoke cheerfully, and as Tony came closer, he started realising why. Under the heavy branches of the tree were thousands of golden-wrapped presents, complete with glittering ribbons, of all sorts and size. On each gift was a small label, and the crowd was looking for their own, exchanging packages and searching for names.
Santa? Tony wondered, dumbly. Maybe he had had one or two drinks as well.
Then, of course, he realised who was playing the part. But Loki, for some reason, was nowhere to be seen, not enjoying the glory of his action or the gratitude of his people. Children were unpacking skis, bows and arrows, wooden toy, DVDs; their parents received boots, kitchen appliances, board games, all a strange mixture of products one would have found at a shopping mall and in a museum, all bringing excited smiles and shouts to the ones who got them. Either the Asgardians were an enthusiastic people at heart, or Loki managed to track the wishes of all of them...
Tony slowly made it to the illuminated ship. Even here, the hallways were still alive with young Asgardians trying out their skateboards or their flying boots. Making it to his cabin, he opened the door carefully, half-expecting to find it empty.
But, sure, Loki was rapping. That worked too.
Tony stood there, waiting to be noticed. He didn't recognise the music (which came from an unknown device) but he didn't know anything about hip-hop, so it made sense. Loki was just lying on his bunk bed, delivering an endless flow of articulated lyrics which contained a remarkable ratio of profanity per sentence. Which, somehow, was not all that unsurprising, coming from him. Tony vaguely wondered how he had not associated Loki with rapping earlier. Talking fast and quick and insulting people. It fit him.
“Stark,” Loki said, when he finally saw him, and raised an eyebrow. “Are you drunk too?”
“I wondered when you'd give me my gift,” Tony replied, mouth a little dry.
“Ah, yes. You knew?”
He stood and his background music stopped. His penguin sweater didn't contribute much to making him look any less imposing, here in the small space, tall as he was, and beautiful.
“I guessed. I had a feeling you would cheat to pick me.”
“That's very presomptuous.”
“How did you get gifts for three thousand people?”
“I'm a resourceful man.”
Loki stood facing him quietly. He looked like he was waiting for something, waiting for Tony to act first. And Tony didn't know how he was supposed to act. He kind of wanted to get in bed and pretend today was over already.
“It was a nice party,” he said finally. “Your people looks happy.”
“Did they, now.”
“I still find it weird.”
“It?”
“You.”
“Weird.”
“Yes.”
“What sort of weird?”
“If I knew it, it wouldn't be weird, Snowflake.”
Loki smiled from the corner of his lips, and it looked real enough. Liar?
“I really want to trust you,” he said quietly. “But it seems too good to be real.”
“It does,” Loki agreed, and he took Tony by the shoulder and squeezed gently. “Shall I give you your gift?”
Tony just nodded, and closed his eyes a small instant before Loki's lips were on his. Eyes shut, it felt so very easy to fall for him, lie, truth or danger. He returned the kiss, shutting in the distance between them.