Title: Miracles From Realms Beyond
Fandom: Marvel (movie 'verse)
Author: Batsutousai
Beta: Shara Lunison
Rating: M
Pairings: Tony Stark/Loki Odinson(Laufeyson)
Warnings: bullying, mentions of rape, child abuse, alcohol abuse, allusions to prostitution (Tony Stark style)
Summary: Five times Loki saved Tony and the one time he couldn't.

Disclaim Her: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Marvel. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

A/N: I've never done a however-many-times-someone-did-whatever fic before, but I had the urge to take a crack at one of the prompts that came through the FrostIron tumblr and this is the form it took. We'll see how this goes.

Uhm, so Loki might seem a little out of character in this, but most of this fic takes place pre-Thor, and all the angst that grew from that film. This Loki is a Trickster, someone who loves to have fun and enjoys watching people suffer at his hands, yes, but he doesn't form his tricks solely to see someone suffer. Not yet. (He's more chaotic neutral, as opposed to the chaotic evil he leans towards by the end of Thor and the entirety of The Avengers.)

Also, suggestions for a tissue box? I'm not particularly kind to Tony in this, and the ending is particularly angsty, considering it falls at the end of Thor.

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-1-
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Loki couldn't really say what called him to Midgard. It hadn't been his name breathed in prayer – it had been centuries since the last fool to seek the Trickster's 'favour' – nor in curse; it hadn't been the promise of a prank well-played, or even one that might catch his eye; it wasn't a lie spoken over-well, though it was true that what he found was a liar.

Less what, Loki admitted, and more who. He had appeared, invisible and silent, in a darkened room where a boy was curled into a tight space, bruises darkening his arms and tears sparkling down his cheeks from the sharp slash of light through the half-closed blinds. The crying was silent and done with an air of fear, dark eyes glancing towards the closed door of the room, as if expecting someone to come in and–

The door slammed open and four older boys swaggered in. The hiding boy pressed a hand over his mouth, further silencing his whispered breaths, and used his other hand to rub his sleeve over his damp face.

"Hey, Stark! We know you're in here!" the boy at the lead called, looking around the room with the air of one well-practised in this game. His followers laughed behind him.

Loki looked these boys over and saw similarities to his brother and the Warriors Three, who had once made sport of tormenting a young Loki before the darker prince found a spell to turn them all into toads and spent a week carrying them around as his pets, hiding a grin whenever someone asked after one of the four.

The young boy swallowed and set his face, then pushed out of his hiding place, body language carefully trained to bravado, and Loki applauded him even as the four brutes' smiles widened. "I'm sorry, did you need something? Or is this just your daily attempt to try feeling superior to me?" he taunted, looking for all the world as if he hadn't just been muffling his sobs in a dark room.

Loki saw himself in this boy, saw his childhood in the way the four brutes surrounded the boy.

Loki had always had a soft spot for dark haired children with intelligence in their eyes and lies on their tongues.

"Perhaps," Loki said as his illusions fell away, "you might reconsider your intentions, lest you see them returned upon your heads two-fold."

The bullies all jumped, looking to the adult with horror for but a moment before they fled in a pack.

"I don't need your help!" the young boy shouted, hands clenched like he should like to hit Loki for putting an end to what was sure to be a most painful beating. "I had them!"

"Of course you did," Loki agreed, moving to the boy's side and kneeling before him. "And I am certain they would have left in but a few more moments, had I left them to you, but I do think they would have been laughing more than you."

The boy pressed his lips together, caught, but unwilling to admit his failings. And this, too, Loki loved him for. "Who're you? I've never seen you before, and I know everyone."

"Surely not," Loki replied, amused. "There are far too many humans for one so young as yourself to know them all."

"All of them in this school, stupid," the boy returned with irritation. "And how'd you get in here, anyway? I checked, you know." I always check, lay unspoken between them, because only a fool would think to find the safety to cry in a room that was already occupied; a fool, or one who had no fear of showing weakness.

"I am a god," Loki replied evenly. "I need no doors nor windows to enter a room."

The boy narrowed his eyes. "You don't look like a god," he insisted.

"And how do gods appear, then?"

"They–" The boy's brows furrowed, uncertain, and Loki suppressed a smile. "They're larger-than-life," the boy decided after a breath.

"And how does one appear larger-than-life?" Loki wondered. "Does one, perhaps, glow?" A twitch of his fingers allowed a golden glow to appear around his body and the boy stumbled back, eyes wide. "Or are they as tall as two men atop one another?" Another twitch of his fingers saw him growing twice his normal size, remaining crouched so he might still fit in the room.

"Wow," the boy breathed, and there was wonder in his eyes as he stepped back towards Loki, not fear. "Teach me to do that."

"I cannot," Loki replied as his magic leaked away, returning him to normal. And there was honest apology in his words, for he very much didn't wish to see this boy come to further harm when Loki might have seen him safe.

"Is this some sort of cosmic rule?" the boy asked, sounding more resigned than upset, and Loki's heart broke for him.

"Less a rule and more a question of capability," Loki said. He touched a hand to the boy's cheek, making a note of his flinch and hurting for him; no child should fear the touch of another. Green lit the boy as Loki's magic soothed his bruises and sores.

The boy's eyes widened and he held out his arm to watch in disbelief as a dark bruise shifted colours and paled away. He looked at Loki, awe in his eyes, and whispered, "Are you really a god?"

"I am."

The boy stared at him for another long moment before tears filled his eyes. Loki drew him into his arms and the boy cried, his gasps and quiet sobs loud in Loki's ear.

And Loki knew, without question, that he would remain at this boy's side until he could protect himself from those bullies, royal duties be damned.

-1-

Three days later, the boy – Tony Stark, Loki had learned his name to be – hunted down his long-time bullies and smiled as his newest inventions – a small box that let out a light current to shock anyone who touched it or anything connected to it, and another box worn around his wrist to negate the effects of the first box on himself – sent the four running.

"Loki, it worked!" Tony laughed, running up to the god and hugging him around the waist.

"I said it would, did I not?" Loki returned fondly, brushing his hand through the other's dark hair.

Tony grinned up at him. "Thank you," he said, adoring and so wonderful.

Loki unwrapped Tony's arms from his waist so he might kneel before the boy. He touched gentle fingers to Tony's cheek, pleased when he didn't flinch, and smiled sadly back. "I must leave, now," he said, and it wasn't a surprise, because Tony had known that Loki couldn't stay, that Loki had other people he needed to return to, but Tony's expression fell, all the same, and Loki felt terrible.

"Will you come back?" Tony whispered, grabbing the hand on his cheek and holding it there, as if he might be able to keep Loki from leaving with just his tiny hands. And Loki, far too fond of this mortal boy, thought Tony might just be able to.

"Yes," Loki replied, the smooth lie slipping off his tongue without a thought. Because mortal lives were short, and for all that he adored this boy, he doubted he would ever see Tony again, would ever again appear in this realm during Tony's lifetime.

"Okay," Tony replied, smiling so bright, and Loki's heart hurt.

But Loki smiled back and pressed a kiss to Tony's forehead. "Make me proud," he whispered and Tony's smile widened, turned just a little mischievous, and Loki's magic filled him with a spell to travel the branches of Yggdrasil to home. It seemed only right that the last he would see of that little boy would be mischief.

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-2-
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Loki hadn't meant to come out in Midgard, had been aiming for Niflhel, to visit his daughter, but when he'd reached the path that branched that way, he'd been repelled by what he recognised to be Hela's magic, straight through to Midgard. He grumbled a bit at his youngest as he climbed to his feet and brushed down his tunic, as if it wasn't spelled against dirt.

The ground thrummed with a heavy beat, just audible at the edges of Loki's hearing, and he frowned in that direction with a great deal of dislike. He would have turned away, walked the opposite direction, but there was something familiar with the music, something not quite forgotten that tugged at his heart in a way that little did. Grasping for that memory, Loki moved towards the music.

He was led to a club, the beat from the music shaking the pavement beneath his feet. And Loki wanted to turn away, wanted to leave, but it was still there, that tug, and so he twitched his fingers to change his clothing into something more acceptable for this venue – he knew better than to think his illusions would stand up against the close quarters he would soon be suffering – and strode past the unseeing door guard into the building.

He followed the familiar sensation to the bar, where among the laughing mortals was a slumped form, a bottle held tight in callused fingers. Dark eyes peeked out from under a mop of unkempt hair, looking Loki up and down once before the human straightened and slipped on a seductive smile. "Well," the human rumbled, "hello there, sexy."

"Tony," Loki breathed, recognising the human and the brush of forgotten memory at once.

Confusion flickered across Tony's face while Loki took a chance to look what had once been a lonely boy over. And he saw...a lonely boy, still. A lonely boy who was suffering from something Loki couldn't think to understand, couldn't hope to heal – not this time, not with his meagre tricks.

Tony shook the confusion away, forced his seductive smile back in place. "I always hated awkward introductions. No," he interrupted when Loki opened his mouth, "I don't really care what your name is, and I'm too drunk to remember it, anyway. You lookin' for a good time? 'S the only reason people come to me." His eyes trailed up and down Loki's body again, dark with lust. "I won't turn you down."

Loki felt like his heart was breaking all over again; his little Tony, his sweet liar with mischief in his eyes and an intelligence to rival Loki's own, was drinking his brilliance away and selling himself to the first pretty face to approach him. Loki wanted to go back in time and push Tony on a different path, wanted to show him how best to use his gifts.

But Loki couldn't play in time and wants. He could take Tony home, though, and get him sober, clean him up, find out what had gone wrong to push him to this.

So Loki curled his lips and stepped just the littlest bit closer. "Lead on, gorgeous," he murmured, and Tony laughed, deep and just a little too dark.

Tony threw a couple bills on the bar and waved absently at the barkeep as he led the way from the club. He grabbed at Loki's bum once they were out on the street, and Loki allowed it because it meant Tony didn't stop the god from wrapping his arm around his shoulders, keeping him upright and letting green sparks of magic dance along his back and shoulders, discovering all the damage Tony had done.

The verdict wasn't good: Tony had clearly been partaking of alcohol for some time, as his liver was showing some deterioration, as was his mind; exhaustion was a bright warning in every line of his body, and depression was a heavy blackness in the back of his mind, some from the alcohol, some from something else that Loki couldn't quite grasp.

Loki waited until Tony had led them up to a small flat on the edges of his college grounds and pushed the door open before weaving his sleep spell, because Tony needed it, needed it more than anything else at the moment. Tony dropped where he stood, into Loki's firm grip, and the god picked him up gently to carry him to his bed.

The flat was a mess of strewn papers, rancid clothing, mouldy take-out boxes, and beer bottles. Loki grimaced at everything as he passed by with his burden and knew he'd be cleaning while Tony slept. "What has happened to you?" he whispered to the dark head cradled on his shoulder.

There was no response, of course, being as deeply asleep as Tony was, and Loki sighed.

Tony's bed was probably the only clean thing in the entire flat, which Loki appreciated, even if it made him a little sad, especially when he recognised the bin full of spent condoms to one side. Once Tony was in bed, that bin was the first thing Loki saw to.

Loki spent the next five hours cleaning, his magic seeing to the sanitising while he did the physical work. Tony slept through everything peacefully. When the flat was completely clean, Loki dropped onto the couch and motioned for the television to turn on; he had no intention in leaving his mortal while Tony clearly needed him, and the television was the most interesting thing in the flat, especially as he was over a decade behind on Midgardian culture.

Nearly three hours later, Loki understood the heavy depression that darkened the back of Tony's mind: "Funeral preparations continue for Howard and Maria Stark, who are survived by soon-to-be MIT graduate, Anthony Stark. Sources inside Stark Industries say Stark Junior has had little to do with the preparations, choosing to instead focus on his schooling so he might better fill his genius father's shoes. Memo–"

"Turn it off," Tony called from the bedroom doorway.

Loki waved the television off and turned to look at the mortal, who was looking around his spotless flat with a glimmer of confusion. "Tony," he called.

The human's eyes caught on the god on his couch, darkened with distrust for a moment before confusion and a spark of recognition soothed it away. "Do I...know you...?"

"It has been a great many years since last we conversed," Loki replied, pushing himself to his feet. When Tony's eyes didn't show his recollection, Loki explained, "I am Loki."

Recognition flared, then, and Tony's eyes widened. "Loki?" he asked, and he was again that lonely little boy who'd craved recognition, craved a friend more than anything. "You're–" But then his eyes darkened with anger and distrust. "You're a liar," he spat.

"I am the God of Lies," Loki returned, unperturbed.

Tony let out a broken laugh. "There is no God," he returned.

"If you mean that foolish notion about the single god and his mortal son, yes, there is no 'God'. But I am not that god, Tony."

Tony pointed a shaking finger at Loki. "I was seven, and you had some sort of tech that made green sparkles and–"

"Vanished bruises without a trace?" Loki finished for him drily, used to the denial of humans. "And how did I vanish in front of you, then? Or grow so large?"

"Seven," Tony insisted, as if that explained everything.

Loki sighed and, with a twirl of his fingers, was standing directly in front of Tony.

Tony immediately back-pedalled and promptly landed on his arse in the doorway of his bedroom. He stared up at Loki for a long moment before saying, "That was–"

"Magic," Loki interrupted. "I use none of your machines, know of them only what you showed me. You would know this."

The denial in Tony's eyes was fading, but there was no friendship there, only anger, and Tony climbed to his feet and snapped, "If you're a god, then where the fuck have you been? Where were you when Dad fucking disowned me for a week? Where were you three years ago when that fucking cunt had her way with me? Where were you, three weeks ago, when that drunk bastard killed my parents? Where have you been?" And Tony was screaming by the end, still so angry, but also so very broken, so very lonely.

Loki wanted to hug Tony, to comfort him as he had when the mortal was but a boy, but the lines of Tony's anger said that wouldn't be welcome, wouldn't be allowed, so he remained where he was standing and said, "I was needed elsewhere."

"Neede–" Tony let out an angry scream and darted forward to beat his fists against Loki's chest. "Fuck you! Fuck! You! I hate sanctimonious assholes! You think you can just walk right back into my life!? You think I'm going to smile at you and say–"

"If you persist in acting as an unruly child, I will treat you as one," Loki warned, his patience running thin; he didn't need to explain himself to the mortal.

"Then do it!" Tony screamed in his face. "Hit me! Remind me how fucking useless and stupid I–"

Tony's voice choked off with a strangled sound as Loki wrapped him in a hug, grip tight enough to keep the mortal from pushing free, but gentle enough to keep from hurting him. Tony struggled for a moment, shoving at Loki and kicking his ankle once, but Loki held firm until the mortal slumped against him, breathing sobs against Loki's throat and clenching his fingers in the Midgardian-style shirt like he was afraid Loki would leave him again.

"You're neither useless nor stupid," Loki murmured against Tony's hair, and the mortal shook his head in denial. "Hush," Loki ordered and Tony subsided, burying his face further against his throat. "I would never care to spend but a second with someone at all without use or brains, and you have plenty enough of both. When you're not drinking yourself stupid."

Tony let out a sobbed laugh.

"I am sorry that I have left you to suffer," Loki continued, honestly pained for Tony's trials, "but I could not have changed that, and I had thought you better prepared, more capable of finding play-mates."

"Would you have left?" Tony whispered, so quiet a human would not have heard. "If you'd known– If you somehow found out I wouldn't be okay?"

Loki's heart hurt and he closed his eyes, wishing he had a better answer, but unwilling to lie. "Yes, I would still have left." Tony shoved at him, trying to get free, but Loki held tight. "It is not my place to guide you through life, Tony," Loki insisted, hard and unbending, and Tony stilled. "I should have wished to remain, to see you happy and at peace, but even gods have rules, and those that see them obeyed." He pressed a kiss against the top of Tony's unkempt hair. "I was punished for even those few days, and while I would suffer a thousand more like them to have seen you more at peace than you now are, I would not see you harmed for my meddling." He leaned back and freed one arm from around Tony to bring his chin up and met his eyes. "Do you understand?"

Tony's dark eyes were rimmed with red, dark with years alone with demons he was ill-equipped to face alone, and glittering with tears of anger and upset. But he nodded and there was understanding in his eyes, comprehension of all that Loki was and wasn't saying, and there was a reason Loki was so fond of this boy.

And then Tony was ducking Loki's grip on his chin and curling again against Loki's chest, whispering, "How long are you staying?" like he was afraid of the answer.

"As long as you need me," Loki promised, because he couldn't leave his mortal so broken, couldn't think to return and find Tony again at the bottom of a bottle and a slow spiral of destruction; Thor had been allowed to check in on his odd, favoured mortals; Loki would have this, would stay with Tony until he could hold himself up again.

"But–"

"As long as you need me," Loki said again, refusing Tony's attempt at protection.

Tony shook in his arms, gratitude and tears, and Loki held him and found them food and listened when Tony spoke, telling Loki everything that had happened, all the breaks that had sent Tony to the pit Loki had found him in. Helped him through a detox and walked him to his classes, waiting outside the classroom while Tony focussed again on completing school. He was never far, and Tony slowly healed under his gentle smile and inclination towards mischief.

-2-

Loki went to the funeral with Tony, a solid comfort at his back that no one in the procession of guests offering their empty condolences seemed to notice. Loki spotted every lie, every hint of unspoken plot against the young ruler of Stark Industries and made notes, intending to leave them for Tony when he left to return to Asgard and his father's disapproval. And he would be returning soon, he knew, because Tony was better, was steady on his feet and not looking longingly towards the bars and clubs around his campus. He probably hadn't needed Loki to come with him to the funeral, in all truth, but Loki had wanted to, had needed this glimpse into Tony's future so he could try to protect his mortal while he was stuck on Asgard for another decade.

"Are you leaving now?" Tony asked as they left the graveyard, his hands stuffed deeply in his pockets.

"I should," Loki replied evenly.

Indecision warred in Tony's eyes for a moment before he chanced a glance at Loki and asked, "Stay one more night?"

Loki looked over at him, read the heat in his gaze, the way Tony leaned just the slightest towards him, like the mortal wanted contact, but was afraid he would be denied. "Certainly," Loki agreed and Tony smiled, even as he kept his distance, uncertain and afraid.

It fell to Loki to initiate the kiss Tony couldn't, waiting until the door of the mortal's flat had closed behind them before pressing Tony back against it and devouring his mouth. Tony moaned against him, hands fluttering against Loki's sides for a moment before they settled under his jacket, clenching at Loki's shirt.

Loki manoeuvred them into the bedroom and onto the bed, losing their jackets and shoes on the way. Shirts were removed between heated kisses, fingers trailing over exposed skin as layers fell away. Loki smirked at each gasped moan he pulled from Tony, trailing bites and kisses down his throat and chest as his fingers worked at Tony's trousers and Tony's own hands fisted uselessly in Loki's hair.

A twitch of his fingers saw Loki's trousers discarded at the same time as Tony finally managed to slither out of his own and the mortal groaned to see the god naked. "You can't be real," he insisted.

"But I am," Loki whispered, forcefully moving Tony until the mortal was in the perfect position to fuck him. "You won't hurt me," Loki soothed to Tony's concerned frown.

And Tony still frowned, still tried to take it slow, but Loki wouldn't have it and forced him in to the hilt as soon as Tony had breached him. Tony groaned at the sensation, grabbing for Loki's hips to steady himself. "That can't not–"

"Shut up," Loki ordered, pressing his heels in the centre of Tony's lower back in an attempt to urge him on, because he didn't mind being filled by his mortal, found nothing to complain about, seeing him raised above him, pupils blown with lust and bright with pleasure, but there were better things than laying there and staring, and there had truly been no pain at the forceful entry. A faint burn, perhaps, but it had already been soothed away by his magic and the innate healing of all Æsir.

Tony pressed on, at last, trusting Loki and eyes glinting with a determination that Loki didn't understand until the little mortal brushed his prostate and Loki gasped at the blinding flash of pleasure. Tony's eyes brightened, then, sharp with accomplishment, and he did it again, and again, and Loki groaned and shifted under him, cold pleasure pooling low in his belly.

Tony took Loki in hand, his calluses catching in just the right places, and Loki liked it a little rough, liked the drag of pain playing counter to the constant flare of pleasure.

Loki let go, clenching harder than really necessary, just so he could watch – through a haze of wordless pleasure – as his mortal came undone above him, gasping curses and flexing one hand against Loki's hips hard enough to bruise a human.

And then Tony lost it, his head nearly flinging off at the neck, and he was still cursing, but Loki's name was like a promise whispered between 'fuck' and 'shit', and Loki drank him in, held the memory close to his heart to sustain him if he was again held apart for a decade.

Tony slept against Loki that night, curled into Loki's protective embrace without a hint of night terrors to wake him for even a second.

When Tony finally woke, stretching pleasantly next to the god, Loki brushed a hand along his cheek in a mirror from their last parting. Tony smiled at him, so very sad, but understanding in a way that he hadn't ten years before. "Will you come back?" the mortal asked, a lonely child filled with hope and fear in his eyes, hidden behind ten years pain and a well of love that was aimed at the other male in his bed.

"Yes," Loki breathed, and it wasn't a lie to soothe a lonely child, but a promise he intended to keep, no matter Odin's call. "When you need me, I swear." And then he pulled Tony into a kiss full of promise and protection. A silent spell to warn him when Tony was in trouble, when he needed Loki there right then.

"Good-bye," Tony whispered when they parted.

Loki smiled and kissed his forehead, another reminder of their last parting, then pulled away and climbed off the bed. A twitch of his fingers had his clothing – Asgardian style, as he hadn't worn in over a week – forming around him and Tony grinned, delighted and plotting, and Loki wondered if his mortal might have created some machine or another that would form clothing onto a human by the next time they met.

A breath and the pathways through Yggdrasil formed around him, Tony gone from sight. Loki made his way to Niflhel, still interested in seeing his daughter, and now intending to thank her for the push, because he'd never have gone to see Tony without it, and he shuddered to think what state his mortal would have been in then.

Loki also had the urge to punch one Howard Stark in the face. Somehow, he didn't think Hela would stop him.

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-3-
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Odin hadn't forced Loki to remain in Asgard, had allowed him his favoured mortal, and Loki spent much of his time between his duties as Second Prince on Midgard, keeping a close eye on Tony. He never showed himself, preferring the sort of 'guardian angel' feeling. He would occasionally leave behind a slew of pranks, and when Tony caught wind of them he would laugh and look inexplicably fond; the confused looks on the faces of those who passed on the word were almost better than the spark of pleasure in Tony's eyes and the chaos that was left behind.

Sometimes, when Tony slept poorly and without a lover for the night, Loki would press kisses against his lips and work spells for peace and relaxation into his dreams.

Tony never asked for Loki to show himself, though he seemed all too aware that Loki was there. Until the time he did.

Tony was working on a pile of paperwork his PA had shoved under his nose when Loki appeared at his shoulder, free from his duties for a couple days.

"Miss Potts," Tony called and the PA looked up. Tony held out his empty coffee mug and smiled. "Please?"

"Yes, Mr Stark," she replied and left with the mug.

Tony pulled something out of a drawer and held it up behind him. When Loki didn't take it right away, surprised, Tony commented, "I can feel your magic."

Loki chuckled, warm and low, and a tenseness smoothed out of Tony's shoulders as the god took the folder. Instead of looking it over right away, Loki leaned forward and kissed his mortal, a gift which Tony fully reciprocated.

They pulled apart at the sound of the PA's heels outside the office and Loki settled in to read the folder.

It wasn't good news: Word of a coup d'état had filtered up through the channels to someone who had Tony's ear in the darker matters of his empire. The evidence was minimal and names were more guesswork than anything else. Tony couldn't fire anyone without proof, and neither he nor any of his moles could get anything further. Tony needed someone who could get into secret meetings or listen in on various plans without being seen.

Tony needed Loki.

Loki pressed a kiss against Tony's forehead, magically banishing the folder back into the drawer it had been pulled from, and Tony's lips curled with a smile into his cup, trust in his eyes.

Loki spent his two days stalking the men Tony had tagged, spent a day back in Asgard, then managed to talk his way out of a couple duties and spent four more days in Midgard to gather the evidence Tony needed.

It would have gone better if the group hadn't sent an assassin after Tony. Loki was just leaving all the evidence in Tony's desk when the spell he'd cast on the mortal screamed at him, and Loki immediately teleported to Tony's side. A masked man stood before Tony and his driver, both of whom bore signs of battle, blood tainting their suits. The driver seemed worse off, listing slightly even as he held his ground in front of Tony, and Loki appreciated that even as he turned cold eyes on the would-be killer.

"I need him alive!" Tony called.

"Wha–?" the driver said, blinking in confusion.

Loki scowled, but reigned in the spell of murder he'd nearly cast, twisting it to one of binding, and uncaring if it fit a little too tightly around the masked man, who fell over.

"Wha–?" the driver said again and listed a little too far to one side.

"Loki!" Tony shouted as he tried to catch the larger human, but Loki was already there, helping Tony lower his driver to the ground, his magic soothing over the skin of both humans.

Tony leaned against Loki as the cuts on both himself and his driver closed, as if they'd never been. "Thank you," Tony whispered against Loki's throat and the god pressed a kiss against his mortal's hair.

"Who's this, then?" the driver asked Tony, eyeing Loki as if uncertain what to think of him. Given his sudden appearance and Asgardian dress, Loki didn't much blame him.

"This is my guardian angel," Tony quipped, grinning and so obviously at ease in Loki's company.

Loki glanced up as he heard sirens in the distance, moving rapidly closer, then looked over the two mortals. "Your civilian protection force is arriving," he warned. Then, brushing a hand against Tony's cheek, he murmured, "I cannot stay, Tony."

"I know," Tony murmured back, pressing a light kiss to Loki's lips before pulling back, shifting his weight so he wouldn't go sprawling when Loki vanished.

Loki didn't go far, remaining in sight of his mortal. A short string of spells had their attacker knocked out and the bindings gone, making it appear more as though the two humans had managed him on their own. Another spell had wiped his memories of Loki's intervention.

Loki remained out of sight until Tony had been left at his home, the door safely locked behind him.

"Sir–" the accented voice in the ceiling called as Loki dropped his illusions, but Tony had already sensed Loki and was burrowing against the god before JARVIS had finished cutting itself off.

"JARVIS, Loki," Tony said as he started pulling against Loki's jacket, aiming for the bedroom, "Loki, JARVIS."

"Pleasure," Loki murmured, smiling for his mortal, and Tony grinned back.

"Of course, Sir," JARVIS replied and spoke not a word further as god and human fell into Tony's large bed together, clothing falling all around or vanishing into nothing.

Once sated and curled up in Loki's arms in the centre of the bed, Tony asked, "Why do you only watch?"

Loki's lips thinned, his fingers trailing along Tony's back. "My father – my king – allowed me to keep watch only if I kept from interfering."

Tony tensed. "Today. Did that count–?"

"Yes," Loki admitted, and the Allfather's magic burned against his heart, calling him home, but he'd wanted his moment with Tony, because he couldn't say when he'd see him again.

Tony curled closer, taking a deep breath against Loki's chest. "How long before you leave?"

"I should already have done so."

Tony choked out a laugh and looked up at him, eyes bright with pain and amusement. "You stayed for a booty call? Really?"

Loki chuckled. "In your way of speech, yes."

Tony laughed outright, burying his face back against Loki's chest and Loki curled around him, as though intending to forever keep his mortal shielded by his own body.

They remained that way for some minutes before Tony gently knocked his head against the underside of Loki's chin. "Best to go before the old man gets any more furious."

"I should be pleased to see him wait," Loki muttered and Tony chuckled, "but you are correct." He pulled away enough to press a kiss to Tony's lips, getting a little sidetracked in pulling away by Tony's tongue pressing into his mouth. When he finally got out of the bed, he motioned his clothing back in place, then leaned over and pressed a kiss to Tony's forehead. "If you have need of me, I will come," he promised. And it was backwards, their roles switched, but Loki needed the promise as much as Tony.

"Just don't get too much in trouble on my behalf," Tony replied, concern in his eyes.

"I have done far worse than saving a mortal's life," Loki replied drily and left to the sound of Tony's laughter ringing in his ears.

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-4-
§

He was held to Asgard for some years for his transgression, but Odin kept him busy with duties that were to Loki's preference, and the younger prince kept himself entertained by tormenting the Council and nobles when Odin ran out of things for Loki to do. And Loki contented himself with the sense of ease his spell gave him, the certainty that Tony was okay, was living the way any other mortal would, for all that Anthony Stark could never be as 'any other mortal'.

It was so many years after, when Loki's imprisonment was nearly over, when the spell flashed sudden and painful in Loki's mind. Danger! it screamed, Death!

Loki's hands jerked with the vase he'd been setting for a prank and it went shattering to the ground, catching the eyes of everyone who had not noticed him in the hall, cloaked in illusions as he'd been.

"Brother?" Thor said, stepping forward with concern in his eyes.

Loki reached for his brother and Thor caught his hand, supported him against the wave of nausea. "Father," he gasped past the pain. And was this what Tony was feeling that very moment? This echo of terrible pain? Loki needed to get to him, needed to protect him, because Tony was mortal, so fragile, and Loki–

"My son, what has you so unwell?" the Allfather asked, coming down from his throne as Thor and Loki approached, the elder supporting the younger.

"I need to go to Midgard," Loki said, and if it came out like a plea, he didn't care, because Tony needed him, was in so much pain, and Loki– Loki–

Odin cupped Loki's jaw, and by the way his single eye widened, Loki knew he, too, could feel the echo of pain. He nodded his assent, but tightened his grip before Loki could leave, could teleport to the Bifröst Terminal to go the proper way, since the entire court would know he was leaving. "Don't interfere," Odin warned.

"I won't," Loki replied and they both knew it was a lie, because if Tony was dying, Loki would do all in his power to see him live, would break every law to see his mortal survive. What care had the God of Lies for laws?

Odin's expression tightened, but he let Loki go, giving him permission as much as he ever could. So Loki teleported away, stood unhappily while Heimdall opened the Bifröst, travelled the Æsir way even though his own was faster.

As soon as Loki landed, he cast spells to track his mortal and frowned to find him at such a distance, so far from this country that was his home. But Loki didn't question it, only wrapped illusions around himself and cast a teleportation spell to bring him to Tony's side.

Tony was laying on a dirty table while a man leaned over him, reaching through a hole in Tony's chest. And Loki would have attacked this man, but he recognised the Midgardian medical implements, took note of the armed guards with guns trained on the man. He stepped closer and touched his fingers to the back of Tony's head, where no one could see the sparkle of green magic as he tried to discover what was wrong, what he could do to help.

Not much, evidently. There were tiny bits of something – various metal compounds Loki recognised from Tony's workshop – pressed in his chest. The man hovering over Tony was getting out what he could with a magnet, moving with the practised air of someone who had performed this surgery many times. And if Loki's magic eased the surgery, shifted a couple of little bits that were in dangerous territory so they did less damage in coming free, no one would know otherwise.

When the surgeon finished up, leaving a magnet inside Tony to keep still any further bits of metal – and there were still some, Loki knew, bits so small that Loki could have removed them, but Odin would have called it unneeded interfering, because Tony would survive like this, for a time – it quickly became clear to Loki that both the surgeon and Tony were prisoners of the people with guns. Loki wanted to take Tony away, just teleport them to safety and his doctors with their stronger equipment that could maybe finish the job this man's weak magnet couldn't–

But Loki couldn't interfere, couldn't teleport Tony away when there would be no explanation for his sudden freedom. Couldn't face Tony when the mortal eventually discovered that Loki had left another mortal behind, one that had saved Tony's own life.

For all that Loki couldn't whisk Tony away, he could stay, a soothing presence with flickers of green magic burning away infection and speeding along healing of minor internal damage.

Tony woke with a gasp, one hand reaching up, and Loki caught it and pressed his lips to Tony's palm. "Loki," Tony breathed, relief bright in his dark eyes.

Loki stayed with Tony for the next few months, keeping an eye on his health and watching as Tony befriended the mortal surgeon and created his own plans for escape, as Loki had known he would. And when Yinsen explained that a stronger magnet would do more harm than good, that no magnet would ever be able to catch every piece of shrapnel, Tony looked to make himself a new power source for the magnet. "My new heart," he whispered to Loki in the darkness, after Yinsen had fallen asleep against the table.

And Loki held his hand over it, comforted by the steady hum against his mortal's chest, and murmured, "It suits you."

When Tony's machine was finally done, the night before they were to use it against the Ten Rings, Tony curled against Loki on his hard bed and said, "You shouldn't be here."

"I wouldn't leave you," Loki whispered back, one hand held over Tony's mechanical heart as if to check it was still there.

"I know." Tony smiled against Loki's lips as he pressed a kiss against them. "But you're a prince, right? You have duties at home."

"You're more important," Loki insisted.

Tony muffled a laugh against Loki's shoulder. "Says the god to the mortal," he replied.

And that hurt, because it was true, because Loki shouldn't care. Because, one day, Tony was going to die and there would be nothing Loki could do to stop it. "You would dare to deny a god his pleasures?" Loki mock-snarled to cover the ache in his chest.

"Never," Tony promised. And then, much more serious, with the air of one who'd long grown up, said, "You still need to go home. Listen to big daddy and be a good little prince."

Loki breathed out a laugh. "You know me so poorly that you would call me a 'good prince'?" he asked and Tony buried a laugh against Loki's shoulder, his whole body shaking with mirth and nerves.

"I would see you safely away from here," Loki told him once Tony had calmed down. "When you are safe again with your people, with those who would not leave you to rot in a cave with a slow murder circling your heart–" he pressed his hand more tightly against the circle of light between them, and Tony reached up to hold his own hand over Loki's, "–I will return home. And if Father lengthens my sentence for these months, I will sit again, twiddling my thumbs and driving the court to irritation with me, as is my way."

"And you'll come back?" Tony breathed.

"Don't I always?"

Tony smiled against his lips and it was slow and comfortable, safe together in that silence before the storm.

Storm it did, the next day. And Tony mourned Yinsen as he stumbled through the desert, Loki's cool presence at his side keeping him on when he might have dropped to his knees in exhaustion.

True to his word, once Tony's human friend stepped out from the helicopter to meet him, Loki pressed a kiss to Tony's forehead and returned to Asgard.

§
-5-
§

The spell was a constant burn of danger now, in the back of Loki's mind, and with the coronation plans moving along steadily, it was no wonder that Loki didn't notice it strengthening until he was already in Tony's home, walking in on his mortal gasping in pain as he replaced the cartridge for his metal heart.

"Tony!" he called, hurrying to the mortal's side.

"Loki," Tony breathed, relaxing against Loki's solid support as the god reached him, green sparkling at his fingertips. "Palladium poisoning," he explained even as Loki's magic discovered the damage. "I'm dying."

"No," Loki snarled, directing his magic to burn the poison from Tony's veins. "I will not stand by and watch you die–"

"What choice do you have?!" Tony shouted, shoving at Loki and taking two steps back and away. He pulled up his shirt and watched as the creeping black lines faded away. "I'm mortal, you idiot," he added, gentler. "I'm going to die."

"Not yet," Loki insisted. "Not now." Not when I'm so close to the throne, so close to making my own rules and finding a way to save you, to keep you for eternity. "There must be something, some other element–"

"I've tried them all," Tony replied, and he looked so defeated, for all that the lines of pain were eased around his eyes and mouth.

"Mix them," Loki said, "like with magic; if you cannot find one spell for the job, use two. Or three."

Tony looked up at him, a spark of hope, of intelligence, in the brown eyes. "Yeah?"

"Yes," Loki hissed.

Tony took a deep breath, then nodded. "JARVIS?"

"I am ever at your service, Sir," the ceiling replied.

Tony smiled and stepped back into Loki's grasp, turning to lean back against the god. "Periodic table, please. Let's see what magic I can make."

"Certainly," JARVIS agreed, and Loki wondered if artificial intelligences could feel relief, for this one certainly managed to modulate its voice to show it.

Loki spent the day with Tony while the mortal played with his variation on magic, mixing elements in ways that were, frankly, boggling to Loki. But he adored his mortal for his mind and felt no more pathetic for his lack of understanding; Tony had his science as Loki had his magic, and while their paths crossed, they were both too immersed in their specialties to ever fully follow the other into theirs.

Loki allowed Tony to pull him into the mortal's bed that night, and Tony drew out the sex, grinning at his own fitness, because he'd spent months in a slowly declining body.

"One of these days," Tony said as they curled together, sated, "I'll get the chance to save you."

"Will you, indeed?" Loki returned, teasing. And if his plans came together right, if all fell into place as perfectly as he was envisioning, he thought Tony would most certainly have the chance.

"Yeah. Just you watch." Tony grinned at him, so bright and alive.

And Loki thought, The Norns must certainly be smiling down on me. This is a good omen.

He left Tony the next morning with a kiss to his forehead and a whispered spell to slow the poison, so Tony would have more time to search. "I don't think you'll need it," he added, "but I can't say when I'll again find time to visit. Things are busy, in Asgard, and I would see you safe."

"I know," Tony replied. Then, as the magic gathered for Loki's teleportation, blurted out, "I love you!"

Loki didn't have the chance to respond, but he thought Tony knew, decided he would tell him when next they met and Loki brought Tony home as his consort. And he returned home with a smile and a light step.

§
-1-
§

Loki lay under Mjölnir, defeated for the moment, but still victorious. Jötunheim would soon be destroyed, and he'd saved Odin's life, could surely ask a boon for his good deeds. Maybe he wouldn't have the throne, but he could still have Tony. He would still have Tony.

"Look at you," he called, "the mighty Thor. With all your strength; what good does it do you now?"

Thor was looking around, then he motioned and Loki was suddenly free. What–?

Thor smashed Mjölnir into the bridge. Was he seriously going to–? Thor struck the bridge again.

"Stop! What are you doing?!" Loki shouted, getting to his feet. Thor couldn't, honestly, be willing to see himself suffer his mortal's loss for Jötun.

Thor hit the bridge again, the crack along it growing wider.

"If you destroy the bridge, you'll never see her again!" Loki shouted, tried to get Thor to see. Because Loki didn't need the Bifröst to see Tony, but he would need it to bring Tony to Asgard, to introduce him as his consort. Without the bridge–

Loki grabbed up Gungnir, started towards Thor, because Tony was more important, was too important. Because Tony was dying and Loki needed to save him. Because Tony was Loki's and he wanted him to live forever, at Loki's side. Because Tony, Tony, Tony... Everything was Tony, because Loki was Jötun and would never – could never have the throne – but he could have Tony, could have that one good thing. He deserved that much, didn't he?

But then the bridge was gone, and Loki's hopes with it. And when he asked Odin's approval, when he tried for even one chance of happiness here, Odin only said, "No, Loki." And that was as much a denial of Loki's happiness as anything. And if Loki couldn't have his Tony, couldn't have acceptance, could have nothing, then he would be nothing.

And he let go.

-0-

-0-0-0-

A/N: Oh, Merlin, what have I done? I need... I need a tissue, I think. And some chocolate. And...and... WHY DOES FROSTIRON ALWAYS LEAVE ME WITH ALL THE FEELS?! MAKE IT STOP! MAKE THEM STOP!
Jeebus, Loki.

You people want a sequel, I know you. You're gonna want something happy.
Maybe. We'll see.
SEQUEL FINISHED AND POSTED. It's titled Away From the Sun. Go, read. Be less tearful. (Sort of.)

~Bats ^.^x

..