Chapter Text
“What’s it like?” Tony asked into the silence of the lab. Tony didn’t often work in silence, but Loki didn’t enjoy his music—Asgardian taste left a lot to be desired—and Tony had given in to Loki’s requests. He didn’t look directly at Loki, trying to pretend that he didn’t actually care about the question. “Not having a soulmate?”
Loki looked up from where he was enchanting… something. The green glow around his fingers faded away. Tony examined the object. It looked like a small spade, the sort of thing that might be used in a balcony garden.
Loki had a corner of Tony’s workshop just for him. He claimed that the vibes of the workshop were good for enchantments. Not that he’d used those words; no, there had been a great deal more esoteric terminology thrown around. Tony hadn’t cared much about the specifics; he’d just cleared out a corner and let Loki do his thing.
He doubted the workshop was actually all that conducive to enchantments. Loki just wanted a place to retreat to that was not New Asgard. Tony was nominally ’supervision’—which certain people seemed to think Loki required—was more than willing to kick Thor out when he showed up, and let Loki do whatever he wanted as long as he didn’t interfere with his own projects. Somewhere like the sanctum might fit Loki better—where they had actual spell rooms—but Stephen and Loki still didn’t exactly get along, even now.
Tony thought they were both divas, but knew better than to say as much to either of them.
“I’ve never thought about it,” Loki said honestly. “Neither Asgard nor Jotunheim have the phenomenon. In fact, of all the nine realms, it is a very Midgardian problem.”
Problem. Yeah, that was a good word for it.
The thing was… everyone had a soulmate.
Theoretically.
Probably.
Maybe.
It was hard to be sure, was the thing, because things didn’t always match.
Sure, there were some lucky few who had undeniable connections—the red string of fate, as it was called, was considered the ultimate soulmate identifying measure, simply because it was so completely unmistakable—but for most everyone else it got… complicated.
Because not everyone, not even soulmates, had the same soulmate identifying measure.
There were dozens of different identifying measures: clocks counting down on wrists until the moment of meeting, birthmark tattoos that symbolized your soulmate, an inability to see in color until meeting your soulmate, a rip in reality that caused a soulmate’s lost items to find you, the first words your soulmate said to you, the last words a soulmate said to you, sharing the pain your soulmate went through, your soulmate’s name written somewhere on your skin, the list went on and on.
Tony had read the literature. It was fascinating, to some degree, frustrating to another.
Because when one person had a non-explicit symbol on their wrist and their supposed soulmate had a set of words that had yet to be spoken… well, were they really soulmates?
Tony didn’t know. It was impossible to know.
Tony wasn’t entirely sure it should matter. Who needed a soulmate anyways? Love was love, wasn’t it? Why should it matter if the person was or was not your soulmate if you loved them?
Sure, some literature claimed that there was no more fulfilling relationship than that of two (or more) soulmates, but that was bullshit.
Not that he was bitter or anything.
“Does all go well for Miss Potts and her purported soulmate?” Loki asked, gaze scrutinizing.
Tony glared at Loki. He hated being so easily seen through. He sighed, letting go of the frustration that Loki didn’t deserve. “Yeah. They already have a wedding date set and everything.”
It hadn’t even been six months.
Tony had a hard time understanding how Pepper, practical to her core, had agreed to marry someone she couldn’t truly be sure was her soulmate after nothing more than a few months. But Pepper had seen the pepper blossom inked on Johnson’s wrist and had ‘felt a connection’ that she claimed was ‘undeniable’.
Tony probably shouldn’t have laughed—Pepper certainly hadn’t appreciated it—but he’d just been so… baffled.
Because what was a flower on another man’s wrist when Tony and Pepper… when they loved each other. When they’d chosen each other.
Johnson hadn’t said the words inked down Pepper’s spine, but Pepper was so sure that the words would eventually be said. She didn’t want to miss this opportunity.
The moment was etched into him.
The ring clinked against the granite of the counter between them. The diamond sparkled tauntingly in the kitchen lights. “I’m sorry, Tony.”
Agony. This was agony. “Please, Pepper. You don’t… you can’t even be sure it’s him. You’re going to throw away everything we’ve built because of a flower on his wrist?”
Pepper didn’t quite meet his eyes. “You’re right; I don’t know,” Pepper admitted. “But… But I feel it, Tony. I have to give this a try.”
Years together and it had been over just like that.
Tony was trying not to be resentful. He wanted Pepper to be happy, and if John Johnson—and what sort of parents named their kid John Johnson?—somehow did that for her then… Then Tony would be happy for her.
He just… didn’t understand it.
It didn’t help that he was… lonely.
He’d thought Pepper was it for him. They’d both determined a long time ago that they weren’t soulmates. Tony had thought it didn’t matter to her. It hadn’t to him. They’d chosen each other. That had always been so much more important to him than fate that no one really understood.
He knew that a relationship wasn’t a sign of a fulfilled life, that people could be perfectly happy without one. But…
That didn’t mean he didn’t want one.
“Do you wish to meet your own soulmate?” Loki asked.
Tony pursed his lips. Because it was never that simple. But… “Yes,” he admitted. “I… I mean, I’m hard to put up with, Loki. But I don’t want someone who puts up with me. I want someone…”
The words twisted in his chest guiltily.
“You think a soulmate will love you without such reservations,” Loki inferred.
“Maybe, maybe not, but there’s a higher likelihood they’d actually give me a chance,” Tony said wryly. “But then, that means finding my soulmate.”
“What is your soulmate identifying measure?” Loki asked with absent curiosity.
Tony narrowed his eyes at him. Because Loki didn’t do absent curiosity. He only used that tone when he was trying to hide investment. Tony just couldn’t imagine what there was to be invested about.
He dismissed it and focused on Loki’s question. “I’ve got no clue.” He waved a hand at himself. “Nothing easily identifiable.” He had no marks on his skin, had no strange dreams or sensations, had no experiences that fell outside of ‘normal’ parameters.
He remembered, with some pain, the girl when he was nineteen, Lily Anna, who had shown up with his name tattooed on her wrist. Nothing had happened on Tony’s side to indicate that she was the one, but he’d been so sure it was a matter of time before his soulmate identifying measure triggered. It never had, of course. The tattoo artist who had inked Tony’s name onto Lily Anna’s wrist had come clean two months later. Of course, he’d done it by going straight to the tabloids. Tony had had the pleasure of learning he’d been lied to right alongside the rest of the country.
It had been a humiliating and painful experience.
Lily Anna had shrugged it off and told him it had been good while it lasted before swanning off satisfied with her moment of fame and glory.
It hadn’t been the only time someone had come with some sort of mark that ‘identified’ them as a match. Some way or another they’d always been proved false.
Since Tony had no clue what his own soulmate identifying measure was… well, he’d never had proof either way.
Sometimes Tony wondered if any of them had actually been his soulmate, if Tony had lost them because of lies or rumors or… But… He’d never had any sort of interaction on his side that indicated anyone as his soulmate, and he didn’t know what his identifying measure was, but surely, surely… But it didn’t matter.
“How fascinating,” Loki said. There was a strange note in his voice. His eyes narrowed in contemplation. “Asgard may not have the soulmate phenomenon, but I am a master of spell creation. I could likely help you find your soulmate,” he said.
Tony blinked. “What?”
“It would not be hard,” Loki said. “If you have a soulmate, which I have been told that all Midgardians do, then it will have left some sort of mark on your soul, even if not on your physical person. It should not be hard to find a matching mark on someone else’s.”
Tony stared. He wasn’t sure what to do with that. He tried to take in the implications of the offer. “Maybe don’t tell anyone else that,” Tony said. “You’d get rich quick, but you’d also never have a moment’s peace again in your life. Almost everyone would want to cheat to find their soulmate.”
Loki scoffed. “As though I would offer such a thing to the general populace.” He paused. “Though, I shall perhaps keep that in mind should New Asgard need funding,” he mused. “I shall be New Asgard’s savior once again.”
Tony snorted, but didn’t say anything about Loki’s status of ‘savior of Asgard’. Thor and Loki had very different accounts of what had happened during their fight against Hela. Bruce’s account disagreed with both. “If New Asgard needs funding, I think there are better options available.”
Loki shrugged. “Perhaps.”
Tony examined Loki. The offer… It felt too good to be true. “Can you really find my soulmate?” he asked. His gut twisted tightly. Did he want to know who his soulmate was? Soulmates weren’t a guarantee; he knew that. Did he want to put himself in that position?
He’d thought about meeting his soulmate before. Who hadn’t? He’d thought he’d met his soulmate more than once, Lily Anna had just been the first—it was a pain that never stopped hurting, no matter how many times it had happened.
But over the years he’d started wondering if he actually had one. Sure, he wasn’t the only person out there who had no discernible soulmate identifying measure until they actually met their soulmate. But he’d… He’d wondered.
If anyone out there didn’t have a soulmate, would it really surprise him to find out that it was him? Even if he did have a soulmate out there… what were the chances that they’d actually want anything to do with Tony?
It was just… he was getting older. Some part of him couldn’t help but think that he was running out of time to meet them.
He hadn’t cared, not for the longest time. He’d thought that what he had with Pepper was just as good as, if not better, than a soulmate. They’d chosen each other, hadn’t they?
Didn’t that matter?
Not enough, it’d turned out.
Because Pepper had chosen her maybe-soulmate and… and Tony was left in the cold.
Loki sniffed in offense, pulling Tony from his musings and back to their conversation. “Of course I can find your soulmate. Would I have suggested otherwise if I couldn’t?” Loki crossed his arms over his chest. “What sort of question is that?”
Tony rolled his eyes at the dramatics. “A realistic one,” he said. “You’re the one who said you’d never done it before.”
“It would not be difficult,” Loki said, still radiating mild offense.
Loki probably had a good measure over whether it was really possible. When he wasn’t in competition with Stephen he normally gave a fairly honest accounting of his abilities.
When he and Stephen were in competition with each other, well, then all bets were off.
The idiots.
Tony considered the offer. Desire fought against fear.
Did he want to know? There were so many ways for it go wrong. He could discover that he truly didn’t have a soulmate. Or perhaps that he did but that his soulmate didn’t want to even give him a chance. Or perhaps that they were already in a relationship, in which case Tony wasn’t sure he’d want them to give him a chance. He certainly didn’t want to ruin someone else’s chance at happiness because he selfishly wanted to know.
Loki moved closer, brow furrowed in confused curiosity. “I was under the impression that meeting one’s soulmate was considered amongst the ‘happiest moments’ in a Midgardian’s life,” he said. “You don’t seem to agree.”
Tony shrugged. “It’s not actually a guarantee of anything,” he said. “Imagine how much it would suck to meet your soulmate, the person who is supposedly your best match, and they tell you that they have no interest in you as a person. Or that you disgust them. Or that…”
“Would not most Midgardians consider themselves lucky to be matched with you?” Loki asked, somewhat bemused. “I was under the impression that you are ‘a catch’ as you Midgardians say.”
“Loved or hated,” Tony admitted. “Not many people fall in between the two. And it’d be just my luck to be matched with someone who falls into the ‘hate’ category.”
Loki looked like he understood that all too well. “Ah, yes. I can see how that would be… disappointing.” He shrugged. “The offer remains.”
Tony looked away, because… Because some part of him wanted it. Sure, it could go wrong, but Tony had never exactly let that stop him before.
And he didn’t actually believe that a soulmate was a guarantee.
Life didn’t work like that.
But it was a chance. Tony had always liked taking chances.
“You know what, yes.” Tony steeled himself. “Yes, I want help finding my soulmate.”
Loki’s eyes gleamed. Tony had learned shortly into his friendship with Loki that he enjoyed creating things as much as Tony did. Even if Loki preferred a more mystical creation than Tony. “Excellent. Give me a week. It would probably not be wise for me to perform a brand new spell without some refinement. It would be quite unfortunate to rip your soul into pieces.”
Somehow, the warning didn’t even surprise him. It was probably only half a genuine warning and half Loki trying to unnerve him. “Yes, let’s avoid that,” he said dryly.
Loki hummed. “Do you think Strange would banish me from the sanctum if I were to steal a few books? I’m sure your Midgardian libraries have useful information, given this is a Midgardian phenomenon.”
“If you’re stealing books, then Wong is going to banish you. Stephen says that Wong is a little rabid about protecting the books.” And Wong wasn’t exactly impressed by Loki.
Tony honestly wasn’t sure who Wong was impressed by.
It occurred to Tony that Stephen and his order might already have a spell like the one that Loki was offering to create.
Not that Tony was about to ask Stephen.
He couldn’t imagine that Stephen would be impressed by Tony’s desire to cheat to meet his soulmate. He’d once heard Stephen tell Wong that soulmates were nothing more than an unexplained phenomenon and that he refused to let the possibility of his soulmate influence his choices.
And sure, Tony agreed to some point. He’d never let his lack of a soulmate relationship with Pepper define whether he loved her, and he wasn’t going to let the existence of a soulmate identifying measure determine whether he loved someone else.
But sue him, some part of him had bought into society’s idea that a soulmate meant potential, meant a chance, meant this could work.
And was it so bad that Tony wanted a chance?
Loki’s nose wrinkled, considering the threat that was Wong. “Master Wong is a worthy adversary,” he acknowledge finally. "Far more so than Strange.”
Tony snorted. “You know, there’s this phenomenon called ‘pulling pigtails’ that should really be reserved to third graders, but that fits you and Stephen remarkably well.”
Loki eyed him warily. “What does swine have anything to do with Strange and I?”
“Pulling pigtails, it’s normally used to describe when a kid has a crush on someone and only knows how to show it by harassing them in order to get attention. Entirely immature, but…”
Loki spluttered. “I do not have a crush on that… that… farce of a magic user.” He paused consideringly. “Though I could hardly blame him if he were to be poorly attempting to gain my attention. I am a prince of Asgard and a magic user of superior talent,” he mused. His eyes glinted with sudden mischief. “I shall have to let him down gently.”
Stephen was probably going to murder Tony for having put the thought in Loki’s head, because no way was Loki going to let it go.
Oh well. Stephen could deal with it.
Loki would probably find himself falling through portals in the near future.
“Right,” Tony said. “I’m sure you’ll be very gentle with his feelings.”
Loki’s smile was benevolent. Which was a warning sign of its own. “Oh, most certainly.” He turned back to the spade thing on the desk in his corner of the lab. “Now, I need to finish enchanting this cyphe.”
Tony considered asking what exactly a ‘cyphe’ was. But he’d learned fairly early on that it was better to have plausible deniability about what Loki was up to. He really wasn’t sure why anyone thought he was adequate supervision, anyways.
He turned back to the prototype for a space bound solar array that he was designing and picked up his soldering iron again.
It was hard to concentrate, the knowledge that—if Loki was as successful as he thought he’d be—Tony would be meeting this soulmate a week from now.
He steeled himself. This could go wrong in so many ways.
…but what if it didn’t?
What if he had a chance?
-
Stephen was scowling when Tony showed up at the sanctum. “Pigtails?” he asked, before Tony had even shut the door behind him. “You told Loki that I had a crush on him!?”
Tony grinned. “I don’t know that I so much told him that. It’s more I implied that the way you two harass each other could be easily mistaken as the mutual pulling of pigtails.”
Stephen glared. “I assure you, I very much do not harbor any such feelings for Loki.”
Tony shrugged. “I’m just telling you what it looks like.” If the words came out a little gleeful, well, it was fun to get a rise out of Stephen. Though, if he were honest, he could see the Loki and Stephen being… something together. Maybe not lovers, but friends? They’d probably be a pretty unstoppable force if they would stop antagonizing each other.
He wasn’t holding his breath on that happening any time soon, though.
It’d take some sort of miracle.
“Please desist in saying such things,” Stephen grouched. “And most certainly don’t continue saying such things to Loki. It is entirely irritating to listen to him suggest that I require a ‘gentle let down’.”
Yeah, that could only have resulted in one reaction. “How long did you let him fall through your portals this time?”
“He deserved it,” Stephen defended. “I’ll show him being ‘let down’.”
Tony fought down a smile. “Right, absolutely no pigtail pulling going on.”
Stephen’s eyes narrowed. “Do you want me to drop you through a portal?” Stephen asked, tone dangerously pleasant in a way that wasn’t pleasant at all.
Tony laughed, not at all threatened. “You like me too much for that.”
Stephen scowled at him, but given that Tony didn’t fall through a portal, Tony took that to mean that he was right.
Probably best not to push, though. “So, I’ve got a few more ideas about our little project.”
It was more Stephen’s project than Tony’s but Tony had sort of invited himself along when Stephen had told him about it; Stephen seemed pleased to have Tony join him, so Tony was counting it as both of theirs.
Tony still didn’t know how Stephen had gotten Wong to tell him about the ‘Book of Vishanti’—and it sounded a bit OP if Tony were asked—but Stephen was determined to find it and the ‘Gap Junction’ that it was said to be in.
Tony was only so-so on the whole book bit—it was more Stephen’s thing than his, even if he was a little intrigued, just mildly, of course—but the space between universes? Sign Tony up. That was some fascinating shit.
So he and Stephen were working together to find it.
“Deli?” Stephen asked. “We can talk on the way there.”
Tony nodded. Stephen’s clothes shifted between one step and the next until he was wearing casual street wear, the cloak around Stephen’s neck as a scarf. Tony had one time seen it pose as a handkerchief and it had definitely weighed the same as an average handkerchief. Which had entirely flabbergasted Tony, because how had it suddenly had less mass?
Someday, Tony was going to get Stephen to give him a better answer than ‘magic’ when he asked how the cloak managed it.
Stephen wasn’t as funny as he thought he was.
Tony held open the door for Stephen before falling into step with him on the sidewalk. “So, remind me how sling rings work again,” he asked.
He could see Stephen catch onto his train of thought immediately. “Sling rings can enable travel between multiverses, but that’s highly advanced and highly frowned upon. All my research on multiversal travel indicates that it has to be carefully handled to avoid an incursion.”
“Do I want to know?”
Stephen obviously knew that the answer was yes—Tony always wanted to know—because he answered easily. “Two universes colliding, the best case scenario is one universe is obliterated, most often both are.”
“All right, avoiding that,” Tony muttered, shuddering a little. They didn’t save their universe from a decimation just to accidentally trigger an apocalypse.
Stephen continued his earlier line of thought. “When it comes to sling rings, opening a portal to a place within our own dimension is the most common usage. As you’ve seen me do countless times. The next level is dimensional travel; this is primarily dimensions directly connected to our own. Actually managing to open a portal to a separate universe is another step all together. And not one I’m in a hurry to try.”
Tony hummed. “I’m not thinking a portal through the multiverse, but for an instant the ring would have to field a space between universe, right? If the space between universe has a specific energy signature…”
“Then if we had that energy signature, we could, conceivably, have the energy signature of the gap junction,” Stephen finished. “Enabling us to find it.”
“Of course, we’d have to find that signal without actually opening a portal between the multiverse,” Tony said. “But we can—”
“—Start by running regular scans on the sling ring,” Stephen continued. “Then scans when it’s opening basic portals, then inter-dimensional portals. We can try to—”
“Extrapolate from there without going so far as to open a multiversal portal,” Tony finished. “Exactly.” He grinned at Stephen. Working with Stephen felt electrifying.
Stephen smiled back, expression warm and eyes bright. “It’s a good theory,” Stephen said. “It may not work—”
“—but we’ll get something out of it,” Tony said with utmost certainty.
They continued discussing possibilities as they made their way down the street to the deli. Their shoulders knocked into each other as Tony shifted a little to allow a woman with a stroller to pass them more easily.
Stephen beat him to the door to the deli, pressing his hand to the small of Tony’s back to guide him in as he opened the door. Tony rolled his eyes. Stephen was still under the false impression that chivalry wasn’t dead.
Tony bought them both a sandwich and they made their way to a free table near the back corner window.
“We’ll need to remember to grab something for Wong before we leave,” Stephen said. “He gets offended if I go to the deli and don’t get him something.”
“How much would he hate us if we got him a pastrami sandwich?” Tony asked. “Instead of his tuna melt?”
“He’d stop stocking Stark Raving Hazelnuts for you,” Stephen said easily. “You know the only reason we have that is because you come over so often.”
“It’s good!”
“It’s chalky,” Stephen shot back immediately, as though Tony hadn’t seen him eat it happily before. Sure, Stephen might like Hunka Hulk of Burning Fudge more, but he was a lying liar when he said he didn’t like Stark Raving Hazelnuts.
Tony decided he’d be the mature one here and not respond to what was obvious provocation.
“So,” Tony said as he took a bite of sandwich—turkey, bacon, avocado with the best honey mustard he’d ever had. “How are things going in the wizarding world these days?”
Stephen rolled his eyes as he always did. “Going well.” Stephen started on the most recent gossip from Kamar Taj—Tony was rooting for Maia and Jer to finally get together, despite having never met either of them—adding the dryly scathing commentary that belied his fondness for the fellow members of his order.
“And you?” Stephen asked when he finished. “How are you doing?” he paused. “I heard… I heard Miss Potts set a wedding date.”
Tony looked away. “Doing good,” he said, trying not to react, before giving up on that. It was Stephen, who in a matter of months, had become one of Tony’s best friends. They’d known each other a year now and Tony… well, he didn’t really try to hide things from Stephen, now.
Stephen always seemed to know, anyways. He understood Tony in a way no one ever really had. Rhodey had the benefit of years, but Stephen… Well.
“Tony?” Stephen pressed.
“I haven’t congratulated her,” Tony admitted. “I mean, she told me that he’d asked her to marry him, and I just… froze. She met him less than six months ago. We ended our engagement five months ago. And she’s already engaged again. I’m… I’m not ready to congratulate her, and I know that’s hurting her. But…”
She had been his friend long before she’d been anything else. He wanted to be happy for her. But it still stung.
“I get it,” Stephen said. “Christine and I have been broken up for years, but when she told me two months ago that she thought she’d met her soulmate?” Stephen shrugged. “It still felt a little like a gut punch.”
Tony examined him. “Are you still in love with her?” he asked.
Stephen pursed his lips. “It’s more… nostalgia.”
Tony nodded. It’d be nice to to get to a point where he looked back at him and Pepper with nostalgia instead of… this. “And now you and Loki…”
“I will drop you through a portal,” Stephen warned. “Loki is not my type, thank you very much.”
“What is your type?” Tony asked. “I mean, if Christine is any indication, you like them brilliant, a little fierce, willing to call you on your bullshit.”
Stephen frowned down at his sandwich. “You’re not wrong.” He looked up at Tony; there was a strange look in his eyes. Longing, Tony thought, longing and… something else. “I want… I want someone who will understand me. I want someone who won’t flinch away from me and everything that comes along with my life. I want…” Stephen stopped, tongue flicking out to wet his lips in a surprisingly nervous tic. “Well, I’m not giving up hope yet.”
Tony nodded. His mind went to Loki’s offer to help him find his soulmate. “Waiting for your soulmate?” he asked.
Stephen looked away, a flicker of pain in his eyes. “You know that’s not a guarantee,” he said quietly.
“Yeah.” Tony looked out the window, watching people pass them by. “Do you know your soulmate identifying measure?” Tony asked.
A huff escaped Stephen. “Skin scribing. My parents made me wear long sleeves all growing up to hide the mess my soulmate left behind.”
Tony laughed. He imagined that could get irritating. His own soulmate would have been doomed. Tony had written all over his arms growing up, partially because it was an easy way to make note of ideas at inconvenient times and partially to spite Howard who wanted Tony to be press perfect to maintain the Stark image. “Did you try to write back?” he asked.
“Of course,” Stephen said. “No luck. I assume they have a different soulmate identifying measure.”
Tony nodded, unsurprised. Most people did, after all.
“Do you know yours?” Stephen asked.
Tony shook his head. “No.” His thoughts flickered back to Loki’s offer. “I’m hoping that… soon.” His fingers tapped against the tabletop, betraying his nerves.
Stephen stared at him for a long moment, biting his lip in a way that meant he was deep in thought. “You want to meet your soulmate?” he asked, tone strangely tentative.
Tony shrugged noncommittally.
Stephen just nodded as though that was an answer.
“Anyways,” Tony said, changing the subject. “We’ve got some tests to run.”
Stephen stood. “Let’s get Wong his sandwich and then head back,” he said. “I have a few books I want to take a quick look at and then…” His eyes glinted with excitement.
Tony met Stephen’s smile with his own.
They were absolutely going to find this gap junction and Stephen’s magic book.