Tony's first lesson as a mage's pupil had been to cleanse. It is as much ritual as it is practical. The finer art of sageing and salting. Blessing. He'd taught him the proper things to say in Old Norse to appease what ever wandering spirits may be lingering in an area.

Tony learned everything Loki threw at him, soaking it up like a knowledge starved man, without cracking too many jokes. Although his Old Norse was atrocious, thankfully the spirits prefer it more for just the acknowledgment of their existence than anything else.

He'd already begun teaching him the basics of Wicca and Druid spells. Things Tony required not to tap into magic to use.

Having him bless the area where he is going to complete the spell is a nice little test of his slowly accumulating knowledge.

Much like when Tony had trusted him with the smart phone. Pointless object as it is, it pleases Tony much to see him use it.

It should disturb him how much he enjoys pleasing the mortal man.

Watching Tony settle back behind the last of the lit candles he can't help but smile at the mortal's choice of locations. Tony rises up after a moment, spread out his arms in his trademark theatrics. "Ready for this?"

Sighing heavily he realizes there is still so very much for Tony to learn. The concentration needed to collect the magic is monumental. Almost regretting bringing Tony in on this. Almost.

"I said you could watch only if silent, Stark." He says, using Tony's surname to keep himself emotionally separated for the time.

Tony rolls his eyes and moves across the room and mutters something under his breath, the salt crunching under his sneakers. Propping himself up onto a stool quietly. His mahogany eyes reflecting the flames there, the wonder and tension so strong in their dark depths that Loki has to look away.

Gripping his scepter tight in his hand as he steps out into the center of the workshop.

One calming breath.

One small thought cast back home before he thinks of the now. The mortal behind him. The worlds he wants to keep safe. Dare he even say protect.

Sweeping his scepter out, he calls upon his magic and deeper still to the magic of the nine realms. Bringing the astrophysical Yggdrasil into the physical world. Casting and weaving a strengthening spell to it on the galactic size. It's bigger than anything he's ever tried to cast, the strain pushing down on his very soul as he binds himself to the barrier.

An ace up his sleeve for when Odin comes for his head. Not letting his mind wander on the matter at too important a moment he completes the spell. His shoulders dripping and breathes out a relieved sigh. The barrier holding strong, the bond to his soul equally so.

Slowly letting his eyes lift to Tony.

"Is it done? Are you okay? Nothing blew up this time!" The mortal clamors as he strides across the room and brings a smile to his mouth.

"Will you ever stop the use of that question? Yes, I am well and it is complete. I will monitor it," No need to tell Tony how, "But it is strong."

Tony nods as he accepts this answer freely, his eyes warm with an emotion Loki doesn't understand. Looking down and away.

"So, what will you do now?" Tony asks, his voice drawing Loki's attention back to him. Their eyes meeting across the dim lights of the workshop.

That is a much deeper question than one he is willing to contemplate. He'd avoided the thoughts like they were a vicious animal too afraid of them to linger on the ideas.

"Loki..." Tony's voice is softer now, strained.

"I know not what I will do." His honesty splits his insides open like a pike.

"Malibu is great this time of year." He can hear the soft beg there, even if Tony wouldn't admit it. There's hope and longing and it echoes the feelings in Loki's own heart.

"I have grown fond of some things about Midgard." The sea, the knowledge, Italian dressing and the sounds Tony makes when he looses all inhibitions.

"Pizza and shots?" The mortal man grins wide and knowing as he walks to the doors that lead back up and into the quarters. Loki can't help but roll his eyes a little.

"No. Your bread and sauce food is not one of the things."

"You're just pissed because I refuse to get it without the sauce."

If Tony says anything after that Loki doesn't hear his rambles, just the tone of his voice, looking around the workshop and its incredible blend between magic and science. Technology meeting archaic traditions. Alchemy.

He can stay. Even if just for a while.

He dares not call this place home, not yet, but as every day passes the idea of leaving it becomes more unpleasant to think of. The idea of leaving Tony becomes down right unbearable.

o0o0o0o0o0o

It had taken Clint days to find an appropriate spot up the road where the cliff side jutted just right, the outcropping of wind beaten Cyprus trees were gnarled with age and elements but gave him the perfect nest.

He needed the most perfect for this. He could give nothing less to the man who had showed him who he really is inside.

Loki was like a centripetal force to Clint's mind, forever drawing him in and keeping him close. His new sun.

He could end it. He could extinguish the sun forever more with the simple release of his fingers, the bow drawn tight. Four hundred pounds of pressure will move the deadly arrow through the air. Through his centripetal force.

He didn't want to shoot him through the eye now. He will aim for the heart.

Clint's arrow does not waver as it fixes on the god standing in the sun. His eyes closed, hair shifting against his shoulders with the sea breeze. The smile on his face is one of enjoyment, incredibly private.

Clint had never seen that smile.

He releases back on the bow slowly, keeping the arrow notched and at the read as he watches.

The god's incredible presence shifts to look back behind him, that private smile growing. Eyes so bright that even half a mile away he can see the green there glow.

Tony Stark walks out to the sun lit back patio with the god, his hands in his pockets and his own smile rare and unguarded as warm as the sun that heats the waves.

Lips move. Twitching with murmured words as the two men look back out over the water.

Clint watches for a long time as the two talk, their words gentle maybe even a little teasing knowing Tony's tongue, maybe even with a little love. Hands brushing against arms, shared whispers even in private just so lips can grace skin.

Loki is a god amongst men, truly changing those whose lives he's around. He doubts Loki's even aware of it. His magic and destiny shifting other pieces on the chest board of life without so much as a look or a touch.

It is why gods are not to mix with mortals.

Clint knows this now; Tony may even see it too now that he's trapped in Loki's gravity. He may be on a different path, a rut that takes him closer to the burning sun than Clint ever traveled but it's still the same.

Clint returns the arrow to his quiver and his bow over his back. Watching close. Observing from his nest much like the hawk he's called.

The walkie-talkie at his hip beeps before static fills the air, its pulsing hiss matching the waves he's hanging over.

"Barton, what's the situation with Stark?" Fury's voice comes out cracking with interference.

Clint tilts his head slowly, watching with sharp eyes as the man and god return into the mansion and out of his view, a slow smile spreading over his lips. Swinging down from the tree before retrieving the walkie at his hip.

"No situation sir. Stark is all clear."