Archive of Our Own

Loki had experienced many heartaches in his life.

He had been betrayed, beaten, scorned, mocked and hurt by beings across the Nine Realms and even beyond it. He was accustomed to pain and even hatred. He had lived through everything that had been thrust upon him.

But even he had never imagined this agony.

The burning of a soulmark was meant to be a time of joy. The moment when two beings met and their lives became entwined. It was a time of celebration where the union was announced and weeks were devoted to getting to know the one whom could best complete them.

Loki didn’t even realise his had occurred until he was in a crater on the floor.

The soulmark had bled through his skin, hidden by his vambraces and kept from his attention by the influence of Thanos and the Mind Stone.

He had met his other half – and promptly thrown him out a window.

And if that was not irony enough, when the Avengers had come for him and Loki had looked at Anthony Stark, he had sensed nothing. Because the Mind Stone – or perhaps even the strange device in the mortal’s chest; something had interfered.

Loki had realised with a sinking heart that his mark had forged, but Stark’s had remained dormant.

Loki had stared at the mortal whom could complete him. The man who, by all accounts, was beloved by many and with a life far grander than anything Loki could ever gift him with. He had looked at a man whom, thanks to Loki’s actions, would have no chance to know his soulmate. If he would even wish to – if he would even believe it.

(And Loki Liesmith was never believed.)

It was why Loki had made a quip. He’d seen the man quirk a smile and had felt a rush of warmth. He’d held tight to that moment; a brief spark of joy in their otherwise disastrous first meeting.

Soon after he had been muzzled. Not long later, he was arriving on Asgard.

A prison sentence had been a natural assumption; something that would last longer than his soulmate’s life. He would have been left with only a brief conversation and a lifetime to mourn – if Frigga hadn’t grasped his arm and pulled back his vambrace.

Nothing, not even Asgardian Law, would interfere in a soulmate bonding – and his mark was so incredibly new. So raw and sharp it looked like it was still burning at the edges.

It was the bitterest irony that it was that of all things, that made them ask what had happened – where he had been.

And he told them.

However, he did not admit who his soulmate was. It was not as if he expected them to believe him or to realise the truth. Frigga might have devised it was a Midgardian, but he had met hundreds of them. She would not know the mark had not formed on his other half.

Their realisation of the Mad Titan and the Infinity Stones found him locked in his rooms as they devised the best course of action. And while there, he laid in his bed and traced the mark. An ancient glyph from a magical language still incomprehensible. Something strange and different for all beings. The only mark that would match his was Stark’s.

And what were the odds of that ever occurring? Non-existent. Loki had never heard of a soulmate bonding being broken or half-initiated. It simply wasn’t done.

Of course, Infinity Stones were as old as the magic that created the marks in the first place. It was plausible that it could create the current issue.

But even were that not the case. Even if he were to explain and have Stark brought to Asgard for the bond to be reinitiated… what was the likelihood that Stark would even consent?

Loki knew it was foolish. It was why he covered the mark with his hand. It felt rough and the magic itself seemed agitated. He gritted his teeth and let seidr spring from his palm to form a simple wrap. It wound around his arm and tied itself off neatly. His vambrace would add additional protection, but whenever he was free from his armour, it would remain hidden.

A dark secret the specifics of which were known only to him.

Loki turned from his arm and stared out the open balcony doors at the sky of Asgard. His lips curved in a bitter smile.

After centuries of waiting and searching, Loki had finally found his soulmate - and the man could never know it.

It took Odin four days to decide on what to do with him and when Frigga told him the news, he could have laughed until he was hoarse.

Midgard.

They were sending him to Midgard to clean up the mess his invasion had made as well as help the mortals with future threats. Thor was to inform them of his forced involvement by Thanos so that he would be well received. While he assisted them, Odin would smooth over any lingering animosity about his reign as King and the attempted destruction of Jotunheim. Frigga, of course, did not say the latter, but Loki was well used to reading between her delicate lines. Just as he was able to understand her subtle, hopeful questions as to the nature of his soulmate.

But no matter how much he still cared for her, no matter how much he yearned to step into the warmth of her embrace and hear her words of wisdom – he was still so incredibly hurt by her. So angry at the lies he’d been fed all his life.

He barely spoke with her and made no comment about his soulmark even when she tried to ask after it and his match. She gave up in the end, not just over his bonding, but gaining any conversation that didn’t involve his sharp words and bitter statements.

Not even the pain on her face and in her voice was enough to make him take them back.

In the end, he was on Asgard for a month before Thor escorted him to Midgard. They were all still wary of him—Asgard and Midgard both—so of course, he was given monitoring bracelets to wear. They wanted to make sure he wouldn’t escape.

Where they expected him to flee, he did not know.

But then, perhaps it was not without reason that they expected him to run.

He had not known the true punishment at first, not until Thor had clasped his arm as if no gulf existed between them. He’d then declared cheerfully the words that had doomed Loki.

“The Man of Iron has offered all Avengers rooms in his vast home. He did not expect you, brother, but he has agreed to house you as well.”

And once again, Loki had almost laughed. A bitter, ironic sound that would have confused anyone who heard it.

But, oh, the Norns had to be fuelled with a truly dark humour to present him with this. Even the sound of the man’s name made the mark on his arm burn. It had always itched at him, like a wound trying to heal, but now it felt hot anew as if it still tried to kindle with its other half.

Loki gritted his teeth and yanked away from Thor. He didn’t touch his arm, he wouldn’t be so obvious, but he did glance at it. He was grateful that his vambraces once again hid the bandage. The last thing he wanted was the mortals to be curious about his mark and just who it might match.

There were many things Loki did not want to witness and the relief in Anthony Stark’s eyes as he realised that he was not Loki’s soulmate would be a torment too far.

Arriving at the tower brought with it a mixed twisting of emotions. Three of the Avengers were waiting for them on the tower’s landing bay. The building no longer bore the marks and ruins of Loki’s failed invasion, but Loki only spared it the barest glance.

His gaze had quickly located Stark. His mark burned when their eyes met, but the mortal did not seem to react.

“Welcome back,” the captain stated, stepping forward. “We’re sorry to hear about what happened to you.”

Loki tore his gaze towards the blond soldier. He wanted to curl his lip and reject the offered hand that was placed between them, but he knew any rebuffing of the mortal would do him little favours. If he was to reside on Midgard, he would need a reasonable association with the warriors he was housed with.

And, if I am to gain any camaraderie from Stark, I will need to engender loyalty and favouritism.

Loki lifted his hand, feeling the heavy weight of the braces encircling his wrists. He clasped the man’s hand and allowed the mortal to shake it. His small concession found the soldier smiling at him.

Foolish naivety.

He looked past the man to see Romanov’s bland expression and Stark’s calculating gaze. The two of them would not be so easily won.

But Loki supposed it did not matter how long it took. His sentence had no end date and that gave him as much time as he required to earn their trust and, perhaps, their acceptance.

His soulmark continued to burn with enough power that it grew difficult to keep the discomfort from his face. It seemed to be straining; desperate to connect with Stark and complete their bonding, but Loki knew a revelation of it would cause more damage than good.

The mortals were suspicious of him and Stark’s lack of bond would only increase that wariness. He also knew that to see his soulmate recoil and deny him would be a hurt too far.

He had suffered too often and too long these last years. He had no wish to add to his agony. The burning of his skin was a small price to pay for the protection of his heart.

“Well,” he drawled, letting go of the soldier’s hand. “I do believe I was once offered a drink.”

Once again, he saw Stark’s lips twitch.

“Never let it be said that Tony Stark is a bad host.”

He turned and stepped back inside his building, making an absent gesture to encourage everyone to follow him. The group did and Loki did not miss the way Romanov watched his every move. Loki’s gaze also flicked to the ceiling, sensing the many areas from which he was being watched. The man’s artificial servant had been documented in Barton’s files, but Loki doubted they had been a complete catalogue of all the creation was capable of.

“What kind of drink are we looking at Reindeer Games?”

Loki’s gaze found his soulmate’s. He now stood behind his remodelled bar. Loki skimmed the room again, noting the spot where he had been smashed against the floor had been fixed. Truly, beyond a change in furnishings, it looked as if no battle had commenced within the space.

Closing the distance, he came to stand at the opposite side of the bar. The mortal heroes bracketed him on either side while Thor lingered behind him. Loki barely noticed them; he was too intent on taking in his soulmate.

For some time, he had not imagined he would ever see the mortal again. And even in the weeks where he had waited upon Asgard, Loki had not dared think too extensively of any future conversations. He had not wished to be disappointed.

“Whatever you select shall be fine,” Loki answered.

Stark quirked his eyebrows. “That’s a tall order. I could put anything in that drink.”

“Perhaps,” Loki allowed. “But I do not believe you would be so foolish as to poison me so soon into agreeing to house me.” Stark’s eyebrows rose, so Loki continued, “Additionally your remark to your status as a ‘good host’ implies some manner of egotism. You would not give me a foul drink, if only to protect your own reputation. Therefore, I feel confident in your choice.”

“Huh,” Stark remarked. “I guess that’s a pretty good argument.” He reached under the bar and pulled out both a glass and a few different bottles. “Of course, now I kind of want to give you something horrible to prove you wrong.”

“Ah, but then why reveal the intention?”

“Lulling you into a false sense of security?”

“I am rarely lulled.”

“Yeah, I’m getting that.”

Stark started opening and pouring the various liquids. The captain made an unhappy sound.

“Chill out, Capsicle,” Stark said, not even looking at him. “I could make this one hundred percent proof and I doubt he’d even feel a tingle with his alcohol tolerance.”

“It is the middle of the day, Sir,” an artificial male voice chimed in.

Loki did not flinch over the sudden statement. He had been expecting the A.I. to make an appearance eventually.

“And it’s a special occasion with an otherworldly, not-quite-conquering guest. Also, I didn’t get out a glass for me.”

“Nay, you got out no glasses for any of us,” Thor said.

He slapped him on the back and Loki cringed. He also took his gaze off Stark to glare at the Thunderer. Thor continued to smile.

“You also speak rightly, Stark. It is a grand occasion. I have spent too long without my brother at my side and I am grateful for this new chance to fight with him and introduce him to your vast world.”

Loki pressed his lips together, fighting with the urge to make many corrections to that statement. To begin with, he wanted to deny the term of brother as despite Thor’s sentiment, he could not so easily stomach an extension of his life’s lie.

He also wanted to point out that he had been to Midgard numerous times and had even spent weeks among its people. He had found the mortals amusing and Thor’s sudden obsession with them did not negate Loki’s experiences on the realm.

But Stark was already shrugging and grabbing more glasses so Loki swallowed down his many agitations in order to let the moment remain amicable. He had done far worse during political meetings and banquets.

At those times, he had been acting for the good of Asgard. Now, he was acting for the good of himself.

His soulmate was a mere arm’s width in front of him. Loki could handle much frustration and bitterness to be able to stand and be welcomed in the man’s presence.

The concoction that Stark made him had a sweet but fruity taste. It also tingled pleasantly. He was the only one to gain that particular blend. He could have felt pleased at the special treatment, but Stark was indeed a good host as each Avenger received a drink seemingly catered to their tastes.

As they drank, Thor spoke of the last month. He had spent it touring the realms; squashing uprisings and making sure that each world was safe. Loki, having heard little of the man’s actions, had given it some attention, but most of his focus had been on trying to subtly observe Stark.

He had not managed long before the man had caught his gaze and raised his eyebrows. Loki hadn’t shied from the connection and his soulmark had flared in response. He’d yearned to speak with the man privately, to move closer - but a loud laugh from Thor had made Stark break their contact.

Loki had equally forced his gaze from Stark, feeling a brief burst of wariness and dread over what he had done. He had not wanted to rouse Romanov or JARVIS’ suspicions and staring blatantly was a recipe for trouble.

So, he had changed to watching the captain as the man discussed what had occurred on Midgard since the invasion. He’d also gone on to explain what had been done to clean up the city and clear Loki’s name. By the time everything had been relayed and their drinks concluded, Thor had clasped Loki’s arm and expressed a wish to show Loki his rooms which were, unfortunately, a part of Thor’s.

No one had protested and Loki had needed to harness his self-control to keep from doing something foolish in order to remain longer in Stark’s presence. They would be sharing a tower. He would have time to try and ease the ache of his mark and learn his soulmate.

After taking the elevator, they arrived on the large open space full of opulent furniture and furs which were befitting of his brother’s tastes. It was the first time they had truly been alone since he had been released from his rooms.

The moment the door was shut behind them, Thor wasted no time in reminding Loki why the oaf was not suited as a diplomat.

“I did not speak to them of your soulmark,” he began cheerfully. “But I plan to petition Stark to allow you-”

Loki whirled on the man. A dagger was in his hand and he brought it to rest at the Thunderer’s jugular.

“Do not breathe a word of my mark to any mortal.”

Thor blinked, unconcerned by the knife.

“But brother, it is a joyous occasion and-”

“I am not your brother,” Loki spat. “And Frigga should have known better than to plant ideas in your head.”

Thor scowled. “Mother did not ask me for assistance! I was present along with Mother and Father when your mark was revealed!”

“And you simply assumed it was a Midgardian, did you?”

Thor blinked. “Whom else could it be?”

Loki scoffed. He also removed the blade from the man’s throat but kept it in his hand.

“It was not just this realm that hosted me since my fall.”

“No,” Thor denied, shaking his head. “No, brother. I refuse to believe such beasts were your other half.”

“Oh?” Loki asked mockingly. “By why should it not be? After all, I am but a monster am I not? There is no blood shared between us, Thor. Not unless it is that with which you shed gleefully upon snowy ground.”

Thor flinched so strongly that a hint of guilt burst to life in Loki’s chest. But he forcefully ignored it.

Instead, he turned from the man. A quick observation of the room allowed him to locate two doors. He devised, based off their location, which one was the smaller. He walked towards it quickly, not heeding the call of his name. He opened the door only to slam it shut behind him.

“JARVIS,” he barked. “I believe you are capable of locking this door and barring Thor entry?”

“It has been done.”

Loki’s shoulders leeched of some of their tension. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” There was a small pause before the A.I. questioned, “Forgive me, Sir, but am I to conclude from your conversation that Odinson is not your address of choice?”

Loki felt a wave of dread. He had forgotten that, unlike his rooms which were heavily warded, the floors of the tower were not free from the sight and ears of the tower’s guardian.

There is nothing to draw the conclusion my soulmate is Stark. I shall just be more careful in future.

“You make an astute observation,” Loki replied. “Liesmith would be my preferred title.”

“Very good, Mr Liesmith.”

The small consideration put Loki in a more favourable mood as he looked over the space that he would call his own. The bed was large and the sheets plain, but the small touch of a green blanket made him smile faintly. There was a bathroom off the room which he was grateful for as he had no wish to share with Thor. There was an empty bookshelf and closet as well as two small stands on either side of his bed. Loki had brought precious little with him, but he was certain items could be sourced if he wished for them.

He walked closer to the bed and ran his hand over the soft blanket before sitting on the mattress. A large glass window took up the wall to his right. It looked out at the busy Midgardian city. He was grateful that it came with black curtains, he would not relish the light at night.

“I apologise for the intrusion of your solitude, Mr Liesmith, but I am afraid I am uncertain of a protocol to follow.”

Loki felt bemused. “I wonder why you would seek my guidance over your creator’s?”

“As it pertains to you, Mr Liesmith, I feel it wise to discuss the matter with yourself.”

“Ah,” Loki breathed, having a sinking suspicion of what the A.I. wished to discuss. “You are speaking of the conversation you overheard.”

“It was not my intention to pry, but I am tasked with monitoring all happenings in the tower.”

“I see.”

“You expressed a wish for secrecy regarding the forging of your soulbond. I am not certain of your cultural behaviours and do not wish to cause offence. It is part of my protocols to offer to assist in the finding of one’s soulmate if a member of the tower is separated from them. I am also to offer privacy if one wishes to be alone during such a time and-”

“You may cease your options,” Loki interrupted. “I am thankful for your offers. They are… kind and reflect well on you and your creator.” He could not help looking at his arm. His fingers came to touch the vambrace, remembering the raised patterns of the mark. “I would prefer your discretion in this matter. I have no other requests from you at this time.”

There was a pause.

“Very well, Mr Liesmith.”

Loki pulled away his fingers and looked back out the window again. He had thrown his soulmate through a similar window and the man’s creation had just tried to help him. It was one more irony to add to a host of mockeries that the world continued to foist upon him.

“Tell me, JARVIS,” he questioned suddenly. “How efficient are Midgardians in the soothing of burns?”

“They have many creams that are useful in minimising the effects. Would you like me to order some?”

“Why not,” Loki agreed.

He supposed it could not hurt to try and minimise the stinging of his flesh. Perhaps it would make the ache more bearable while in the mortal’s presence. Of course, he was contending with a wound crafted by a magic that was as old as the universe. The chance of a paltry Midgardian cream assisting him were as likely as him wielding Mjölnir.

Loki had remained in his room until he was summoned for dinner. He had half-expected a meal to be brought to his new chambers, but JARVIS had informed him it was customary for the Avengers to eat together.

Loki had warily left his room but Thor had not been present or waiting for him. He had been directed to a communal living space by JARVIS where the entirety of the mortal warriors resided. They were sitting around a large, circular table and Loki could not help the instinctive tension that arose at seeing the man whom housed the beast. Despite the battering being a useful sever to Thanos, he did not relish the memories of his crumpled body on the floor. However, the man was next to Stark and clearly a friend. It made it plain that he would need to overcome his discomfort eventually.

Barton was seated beside Banner with Romanov beside him. The archer met his gaze unflinchingly. He also gave a small, tight nod. Loki offered one back. It was a rather diplomatic response after everything the Mind Stone had put the archer through. Then again, the mortals all knew he had been through just as much and clearly did not hold a grudge against him.

Romanov’s gaze, he noticed, was focused on his arm rather than his face. Loki endeavoured not to react to it. He had debated his choice extensively, but he’d known appearing in his ceremonial armour would not lend to comfort among the mortals. He would need to wear his more casual clothes, if not today, then in the future.

Lowering his guard to let the wrap show indicated a casual disinterest in the mark. The warriors would have no awareness of when it had formed, merely that it existed. From Loki’s own observations he could see Rogers and Barton wore a leather wrap for a similar purpose. It indicated their own soulmarks had formed even if their other halves were not present. The rest had bare skin. It ached him intensely to know Stark’s skin was equally unmarred.

“Right, so,” Stark remarked, breaking the silence that had fallen at his arrival. “We didn’t know what you liked, so we got an assortment of pizzas.”

“Thank you for your consideration,” Loki answered, “But I will eat most things.”

Stark’s eyebrows quirked. “I’m sensing specificity isn’t a big thing for you.”

“Oh, I can be very specific,” Loki answered. “But meals are often not cooked to my tastes so one develops an acceptance of most dishes.”

“Wait, aren’t you a prince?” Barton asked. “Why the hell wouldn’t you get the food you wanted?”

Thor laughed. “Because Loki’s preferred foods are preferred by none on Asgard.”

An odd expression crossed most of the mortal’s faces over the response. Some even exchanged glances. Loki got the feeling they were discomforted by the prospect. Loki found it amusing. Food was a small thing to protest over, rather Loki had long decided it was not worth the effort of complaining. The meals on Asgard were tolerable, and sometimes, the kitchens would even produce something he truly enjoyed.

After all, what did it matter if he ate little? It was nothing more than a source of energy to fuel his body.

“Right, well, let’s see if we can do better than Asgard,” Stark said.

He also waved Loki over and he closed the distance. The seat on Stark’s right was free, but unfortunately, it placed Thor at his left and Romanov opposite him.

But you are next to Stark.

He did not know what it said that the group had chosen such a seating arrangement. Was it deliberate? Had they noticed his fixation on Stark? He was wary to draw any conclusions or refuse the chance to be near his soulmate.

Taking the empty spot, Loki took a closer look at the food. There were numerous boxes with their lids open and displaying circular bread of differing thickness and toppings. Smaller, tubular bread with butter and herbs were wrapped in silver. There were also large plastic bottles of liquids in varying colours. Once Loki was seated, they all began to pile items onto their paper plates and fill their plastic cups.

“We got a large selection,” Stark said. “So, odds are there’s something you’ll like. If pizza isn’t your thing, I’ve got more food in the fridge or-”

“I am sure the banquet you’ve provided will be ample.”

“Banquet, huh? You’ve got a real way with words.” He met the man’s sharp and perceptive gaze, feeling a shiver run down his spine. “I heard they called you a wordsmith on Asgard and JARVIS has already said you prefer Liesmith.”

Loki’s stiffened. “What else did your servant tell you?”

“Nothing,” Stark said, his voice turning firm. “We take privacy seriously on Earth. The only things that overrule it are the safety of the people in this tower. He won’t say anything unless you’ve given permission or it will save yours or someone else’s life.”

“I see,” Loki murmured. “That is useful to know.” He picked up one of the nearest slices of food, choosing one with a mixture of meat and what seemed to be vegetable. “And the reason for giving you my moniker?”

“He said you gave a preference. I like knowing what to call people.”

“And I would have thought you would call me Loki?”

“Well, you hadn’t said we were on a first name basis.”

Loki glanced at the mortal. “Does that mean I am to call you Anthony?”

The man’s nose scrunched. “I really prefer Tony.”

“If you wish it,” Loki allowed.

He went to lift the slice to his mouth but paused when he felt a touch to his wrist. The man’s touch sent an electric current through his nerves. His soulmark throbbed. He tried not to react visibly even as he met the man’s gaze.

It was concerned but nothing greater – nothing deeper. Nothing to indicate what they were.

“You do realise you don’t have to comply with everything we say, right?” Stark – no, Tony questioned. “We know you didn’t invade us deliberately or of your own freewill. If you want to give an opinion on a drink or a food or even call me Anthony, you’re allowed to voice it.”

“Your name is yours to give,” Loki replied. “I cannot ask to be called ‘Liesmith’ and then ignore your own request.”

“Okay, fair, but-”

“I shall consider your proposal,” Loki interjected firmly. “But at this point, I see no reason to argue small, inconsequential matters. When something becomes more pertinent, I will inform you.”

Tony eyed him for a long moment before slowly lowering his hand and nodding. Loki immediately missed the warmth of his touch – and yet, it only served as a reminder of the one-sided bond. He bit into the slice as a distraction, finding it surprisingly edible.

He chewed thoughtfully even as he listened to the various conversations occurring around the table. It was still only early in his association with the mortals, but the more information he could gain from them, the quicker he could immerse himself in their group with little upset.

It was an act that few on Asgard had ever condoned or truly understood especially as he preferred not to utilise it on the realm that was meant to be his home. But it was why he was the one more readily chosen for diplomatic and political endeavours. Thor could beat anything out of his path with the help of Mjölnir but Loki could mould himself to any situation and culture if given enough time to observe, charm and mimic them. He could already tell that his acceptance among the mortals would be possible if given enough time.

Yet, the bulk of them, he did not truly care about. They were a means to an end.

His gaze drifted to the man at his side who was gesturing with his hand and speaking about his favoured places to eat. Loki paid little attention to the words, choosing instead to better memorise the face of his soulmate.

His mark burned, but Loki knew that just because a few hours had passed with equanimity it would not be enough to find him revealing his soulmark. Tony had a swathe of suitors to select from and while no longer an enemy, Loki was still a monster in Aesir skin.

Perhaps it is more than just the Mind Stone that keeps Tony’s mark from appearing? Perhaps there is something far darker within me that keeps my fated from becoming mine?

Slipping his hand under the table, he hid his wrapping from sight and focused back on his pizza. He felt a gaze on him and new it was Romanov, but he did not react to her stare.

After all, she might be curious as to his mark, but Loki doubted anyone, Aesir or mortal, would anticipate a soulbond having been initiated on only one person rather than two.

While his prediction proved correct and no one divined the identity of his soulmate, it took only two weeks before Thor’s inability to stay quiet revealed certain aspects of his mark.

He had not been present for the reveal. He had been in the communal kitchen making tea and a sandwich. Loki had been selecting his choice of ingredients with a smile. Tony, and Loki supposed JARVIS, had made note of anything he was fond of and now kept the tower well stocked. Loki knew it was not just him that received such treatment, but he appreciated the sentiment regardless.

In fact, he’d appreciated much of Tony since his arrival.

The man was a fount of curiosity and often met him in the halls and communal rooms to enquire about Asgard, seidr, the greater realms - anything that crossed his mind. It allowed Loki to spend hours in his soulmate’s presence, speaking about things that few others ever cared to discuss.

But sometimes, it was not him specifically whom Tony sought. Sometimes, he was merely the first person the inventor came across.

Once, he had been walking down a hallway when Tony had exited an elevator, grabbed his arm and shown him a blueprint on a device. His eyes had been somewhat manic with deep bags underneath them. Loki had instantly wished to lead the man to a bed and insist that he rest, but over a week in the tower had allowed him to see the negative results such suggestions garnered. He had merely given an answer and been forced to watch the exhausted man walk away.

Loki much preferred the times when Tony sat with him drinking coffee; their conversations animated and Tony’s eyes bright. On days like that, his mark was the most painful, but in the man’s presence, Loki’s joy managed to eclipse even the harshest burn.

And yet, despite their obvious rapport, Loki knew he was not yet truly favoured.

He had gained no invitation to either the penthouse or the lab. Tony might enjoy speaking with him, might find him curious, but he knew many of the other Avengers, Banner specifically, were far closer and more highly regarded than him.

It was why any chance to speak with and endear himself to Tony was taken with enthusiasm.

He had just finished applying the mustard to his bread and closing the sandwich when the man of his thoughts appeared, delighting him.

“Hello Tony,” he greeted. “Do you wish to join me for a meal?”

“Yeah, sure, maybe.”

Loki frowned, seeing the man’s noticeable distraction. “Tony?”

He took a seat, only to pause, shuffle and tap his fingers on the counter.

“Look, okay, this absolutely none of my business, alright? I know that. And I usually don’t bring this stuff up to people either, but I figured it’s going to happen sooner or later and fucking Romanov had to mention it and-”

“Tony,” he interrupted. “What is it you want to know?”

Tony lifted his gaze, looking uncertain.

“Is your soulmate a mortal?”

Loki sucked in a sharp breath. It would have been audible if Tony hadn’t continued to talk.

“Romanov said she spoke to Barton and your arm was clear when you first arrived. Now you have a wrap. She doubts you would have found anyone on Asgard because Thor would have mentioned it. She thinks you met your soulmate here during the invasion and-”

“Stop,” Loki rasped. “I do not wish to continue this.”

“Look, I get that, and I’m not going to bring it up again, I swear. I just wanted to say that if that did happen and you were, I don’t know, worried about their reaction? Well, I’m here to help you find them and prove that you weren’t in your right mind. That they should give you a chance.”

A lump lodged in Loki’s throat. He felt hopeful and the stinging of his soulmark was almost a distant memory.

“A chance,” Loki whispered.

“Yeah,” Tony said insistently. “I mean, I don’t really care about the whole ‘soulmates’ thing. And more power to you for deciding to go ‘fuck that’. Honestly, I respect that choice. But I know it’s a big thing for a lot of people. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t get it, if you want it.”

Loki’s heart fell. He swore it must have been yanked from his chest the pain was so sharp and intense.

“You do not care about a soulbond?” He murmured.

Tony made a face. “Look, I get that it’s some magical mumbo jumbo and people wait their whole life for it. But, really? Not something I’ve ever really put much stock in.” He shrugged. “I just didn’t want what happened to screw up one more aspect of your life, not if I can help it.”

But, how can it work if you do not even want one?

Loki wondered bitterly if that was another reason why the bond had not formed. If Tony did not believe in or desire it, perhaps the Mind Stone had given his wish life. Loki forced a smile on his lips, but it felt lifeless.

“Thank you for the option, Tony, but I shall decline.”

“Well, the offer is on the table if you want it.”

“Thank you,” Loki said, feeling numb.

The only part of him he could still feel was the agonising burn on his forearm. He had not tried the Midgardian cream, but now he wished to slather it on his mark, hoping to minimise some of the pain.

Instead, he went through the mechanical motions of grasping more bread and ingredients. He knew the Midgardian well enough to craft him a sandwich he would enjoy. He started putting it together, keeping his gaze off the mortal.

He could hear the man fidgeting even if he did not look at him.

“Look, I’m sorry if I upset you or anything.”

Loki swallowed. Tony had no idea what his words had done. The mortal had unwittingly made his interest in Loki and their bond clear. He had been the one foolish enough to let his hopes rise with every positive interaction they had shared. Now he finally knew that his attempts were for naught.

There was no chance, no way in which to see a matching mark appear on Tony’s arm. He was forever untethered from the one whom could complete him.

“It is fine,” Loki lied. He swallowed again. “I simply prefer not to speak of it.”

“I can absolutely get that,” Tony enthused. “In fact, what do you say you hide out in the lab with me? We can lock everyone out. Just you, me, and some of the projects our magic talks have created. What do you say?”

Loki glanced up, seeing Tony’s wide, friendly and hopeful smile. His mark scorched his skin. It reminded him why agreement was futile and acceptance impossible.

But how could he refuse an interaction that he wanted?

“Yes,” he whispered. “That would be agreeable.”

“Awesome. Coffee for me, sandwiches for us.” Tony came around the counter and started setting up the machine. “Want me to make you a tea too?”

“Certainly,” Loki agreed.

His response was neutral, civil. Their whole encounter was friendly and simple, but inside, Loki felt pure agony and turmoil. His emotions blazed through him, throbbing his arm and reminding him of the mockery of fate and the implausibility of happiness.

Tony had all but rejected any manner of a bond. His few miniscule hopes of revealing his bond and initiating it with the man had shattered into shards so tiny, Loki did not even try to scoop them up.

Loki found it a truly vicious irony that after their conversation in the kitchen, Tony had started to spend increasing amounts of time with him.

The man’s friendly overture had found them in the lab for several hours. Loki had showcased his seidr and Tony had examined, scanned and questioned him about it. He had rarely found someone who admired his craft so openly and wished to understand the nuances of it. Not even the torment of what he could not possess had kept Loki from enjoying such a perfect afternoon and evening.

They had even shared dinner in the lab, discussing Tony’s findings and theories. When he’d returned to his rooms late that night, his mark had been a virtual agony of fire. He’d retreated to the bathroom and covered it with cream. Even the smallest touch of his fingers over the mark had made him hiss with pain.

But whether a true help or a mere trick of the mind, Loki had found the balm soothing.

It had become a daily routine. He would trace the angry shape of his mark as he applied the cream, thinking of Tony and picturing the same mark on the man’s tanned skin. He knew it was a foolish thing to do. There was no scenario he could conceive of where the bond would readily form. Tony had no wish for it and Loki would never breathe the truth. He did not want to hear a further rejection from his soulmate's lips.

Once the mark had been thoroughly coated by the white balm and he had exhausted himself with useless longing, Loki would reapply his wrap before venturing out into the tower.

Days and then another two weeks passed in this fashion. Loki began to see his machinations turn ever further in his favour because The Avengers had started to like him.

Barton enjoyed his sense of humour. Banner was often in Tony’s lab and Loki took pains to assist the man where possible. He also shared a similar taste in teas. They would never be true friends the way Tony and Banner were, but the man seemed to grow fond of him.

Rogers, while as annoying as Thor at times, could also be quite tolerable when he was in the training room. He could handle a physical fight unlike the other mortals and he did not deny Loki use of his seidr. Instead, he found it engaging and challenging. It had the further addition of inciting the curiosity of Tony who either stood in the corner monitoring their battle or pulled on his armour to join the fray. Whenever they finished, Rogers would clap his shoulder and smile in open camaraderie. Tony would merely start to talk, dissecting the battle and his seidr, much to Rogers’ exasperation and amusement. Loki just found his heart warming and a smile pulling at his lips.

Romanov was the most… difficult of the warriors. She did not craft true friendships and neither did he. In truth, they shared a mutual wariness that often bordered on either respect or distaste. Despite this, they were able to feign good humour and conversation easily. It was obvious that she did not dislike him. She found him intelligent and useful and that meant, to a woman who collected skillsets as much as she collected associates, he was accepted.

Loki found the situation strange, unexpected and surprisingly comfortable. If it was not for the constant burning of the mark, he could easily consider it greater than any warrior association he had experienced in the past.

But the mark did burn. There was no end to its blistering. It was becoming a constant, angry fire under his skin. It was even difficult to sleep and, on many occasions, he had lain in bed speaking with JARVIS until the A.I.’s soothing tones had allowed him to finally drift off. Even the manacles still encircling his wrists did not hinder him as much as the mark.

It wanted him to complete the bond and every second that he didn’t, the mark made its unhappiness known.

The mark was never so insistent as the first time they were called out to battle. It had seemed to be a paltry threat, and truly, the actual battle took little effort and did not need the combined forces of a team of such efficient warriors.

But with Tony in the air and prone to disappearing from sight and flying into the fray without concern for his wellbeing, Loki’s mark become pure torture. It felt as if a hot rod was searing into his flesh.

He tried to keep his focus on the fight, but once the Avengers clear proficiency found them without enemies, Loki slumped against a nearby building. He felt sweat trickling down his brow. He yanked off his vambrace without thought. He winced to find the wrap congealing to the wound. Just the sight of it seemed to hurt more and all he could think of was to minimise the intensity.

He got his dagger and sliced the material down the side. He pulled it off with gritted teeth, but hisses of pain still escaped. It felt like he was ripping off skin. When he threw it to the ground, he could see the imprint of his mark as if it had burned its shape against the fabric.

Loki had not seen the mark look so angry. While a soulmark was usually dark and made up of elegant black lines; his were outlined in angry red, a colour that radiated out from the mark. Loki breathed raggedly, hoping that airing it would slowly decrease the pain.

His gaze was so locked on the mark that he didn’t hear the approach of the others.

“Holy shit,” Barton breathed. “What the fuck is up with your mark?”

Loki’s gaze snapped up to find Barton and Rogers starting at him in shocked concern. He immediately wanted to curl his arm close to his chest, but the damage was done, as dropping from the air and onto the pavement beside Rogers was Tony.

“Shit,” Tony said, pulling up his faceplate. “This is why you’re ordering burn cream?”

“I was not aware my requests would be privy to the tower’s occupants,” Loki snapped.

“Well, no, they’re not. But I noticed the package one time with the rest of the daily shop. I asked if I’d drunkenly ordered it in the lab and-wait. No, I’m not being distracted.”

Tony stepped closer and Loki tensed, but he didn’t pull his arm away, not when it was his soulmate’s gaze examining his mark.

“I don’t see marks often, but that can’t be normal. Is yours okay?”

There was no simple way to answer such a question and Loki knew a lie would be ill-advised and unlikely to be believed.

He sighed instead.

“Leave it be, Tony.”

Tony looked appalled. “You expect me to ignore a giant fucking angry ass burn where your soulmark is?”

“Yes,” Loki said.

He pushed up from the wall. His mark was still hurting, but some of the pain had eased due to Tony’s proximity. He did feel bitterly disappointed that nothing had happened after his soulmate had seen it. He didn’t know what he had expected; a matching one to form on Tony? For the bond to establish the way it should have months ago?

At least it meant he could keep the mark uncovered without fear of something occurring. Apparently, nothing would. He was as untethered to his soulmate as ever before.

“Tony’s right.” Rogers said. “That really can’t be good, Loki.”

“If that’s happening to you, what is happening to your bonded?” Barton asked. “If they’re mortal, they must be in a fucking hospital with the amount of pain that’s delivering.”

The concern of each Avenger was touching, but they were only asking questions and stating things he did not want to think of or explain.

“I have no wish to discuss it,” Loki said crisply. “And I had believed mortals valued privacy on the nature of one’s soulmark and bonded?”

The question immediately shut the three of them up, but they didn’t look happy about it. Loki merely took the opportunity to walk away and hunt for his discarded daggers. He could feel the eyes of each warrior on his back, but Loki refused to meet their gaze.

He owed Barton and Rogers nothing. And as long as Tony was free of a matching mark, Loki was not beholden to give him an explanation either.

The curiosity and concern of the Avengers didn’t lessen. Loki often saw them glancing at his forearm, especially as Loki had taken to leaving it uncovered. It was an ugly, red and throbbing mess, but it was less pained when he kept it free of its coverings.

And he did not have to worry about anything initiating with Tony.

In fact, spending time with Tony both helped and hindered. Sometimes, his mark was a low twinge of discomfort when around the mortal. Other times it burned like fire. But nothing had turned as debilitating as the battle.

Loki dreaded a more complex fight or something injuring Tony.

He was grateful for Banner, at least. The man had not asked him any questions but he had suggested working together to create a better cream to minimise his discomfort. Loki had not expected anything to work, but he had indulged the scientist. If he was to live with the mark, he would need a better option than merely weathering its bursts of agony.

Thor however was more insufferable. He cornered Loki in one of the tower hallways which was, thankfully, free of anyone else.

“Loki, please,” he beseeched. “You must allow me to bring a royal healer to look at your mark.”

“I doubt a healer would have any greater insight than myself,” Loki grumbled, trying to move past the man.

“Then what of mother?” Thor continued, barring his path. “She knows the strings of fate and-”

“No,” Loki snapped, not willing to place her within metres of Tony.

She would know him as Loki’s bonded in an instant.

“Loki,” Thor said again. “You cannot continue to deny your mark or your bonded-”

“I am not denying-”

“Then why have we seen nothing of your bonded?!” Thor argued. “Why do you stay locked within this tower and make no venture to find the mortal whom completes you?”

Loki pressed his lips together and did not respond. Thor sighed. He also placed his hand on Loki’s shoulder.

“I know you think little of mortals, but brother, this person-”

Loki shoved off the man’s touch.

“They are not your concern, none of this is your concern. And I am not your brother.”

“Loki-”

But rather than listen to more, Loki teleported into his room and away from the conversation. He dropped down onto his bed and glared at the ceiling.

“I have taken the liberty of locking your door, Mr Liesmith.”

A small smile touched Loki’s lips.

“Thank you, JARVIS.” The A.I. didn’t respond, but Loki could sense a hesitation in the air. “Was there something more, JARVIS?”

“I would be remiss if I did not express concern for you and the noticeable pain your mark is causing you.”

Loki closed his eyes. His smile remained even if it had turned wry.

“Thank you, but your concern would be better focused elsewhere. This debilitation is outside of your parameters and protocols.”

“I believe caring for your wellbeing is within my parameters, Sir,” JARVIS retaliated, sounding unimpressed.

Loki chuckled and opened his eyes to look at the nearest camera.

“My apologies, I merely meant that an unfinished bond-”

Loki snapped his mouth shut, his eyes widening.

“Mr Liesmith does that-”

“You will not repeat those words to anyone,” Loki snapped.

He could not believe that he had let his guard down – but there had been so many evenings laying relaxed in bed and speaking with JARVIS. The A.I. was as close to a confidant as he had on the mortal realm.

“I will, of course, not repeat what I have been told, Mr Liesmith,” JARVIS insisted. “But are you to say that your bond did not fully initiate with your soulmate?”

Loki was silent for a long moment, debating what to say, but the wish to speak to someone, to reveal some of his agony and struggles found him incapable of avoidance.

“Yes,” Loki admitted painfully. “I believe the influence of the Mind Stone stopped it from occurring.” He chuckled darkly. “It was not until I lay in a crater in your master’s floor that I even realised my mark was on my skin.” He closed his eyes. “And whom it was.”

“Then your soulmate does not know that you are their other half?”

“Correct.”

“And you have not told them?”

“Why open myself to such inevitable rejection and further disappointment?”

“You cannot be sure they will reject you.”

“Can’t I?” Loki asked dryly.

“It is my understanding that the soulbond connection greatly increases the happiness of any whom experience it. I do not imagine any being would reject the chance for such contentment.”

Then perhaps you should speak with your master?

But it was a question too far, and might yet make the A.I. consider exactly who might be Loki’s match. He did not wish to tempt fate.

“I do not wish to speak more of this, JARVIS.”

The A.I. was silent for a moment before agreeing, “Very well, Mr Liesmith.”

Loki could tell the A.I. was unhappy, but it was a useful perk of speaking with a machine over a person. JARVIS would allow him his solitude whereas a mortal or Aesir would continue to harp at him until he had no choice but to either answer them or leave.

The last thing Loki wanted to do was let slip one more dangerous piece of information about why his mark burned his skin and who would be the one to complete it.

JARVIS did not ask after his soulmate again. At least, not directly. He made the occasional pointed remarks which made it clear he was willing to listen and help should Loki wish to request it of him.

Loki didn’t.

He wasn’t the only one who asked. Thor was insistent and Rogers and Barton, the only two with soulmarks, tried to offer their assistance. Once, Rogers had started to showcase his own grief about his lost soulmate. Loki had been frozen in horrified silence and had done his best to escape the conversation before the man could begin to cry.

He took to spending time in Tony’s lab.

It was not deliberate that he sought his soulmate, rather, Tony did not ask questions and he unquestioningly locked the lab doors. Loki enjoyed being able to merely read in the man’s presence or speak with him about his inventions.

Sometimes Banner was present, but his only queries were about the burn cream and in finding a means of minimising his physical pain. Loki could appreciate the sentiment and limited nature of those questions.

But his preference was when they were alone.

Now was one such time. It had been over two weeks since the revelation of his mark to the Avengers. Loki was reading a magic text and able to mostly ignore the constant throbbing on his forearm. In fact, he was so oblivious to it that when Tony spoke, he was confused.

“Isn’t that distracting?”

Loki had blinked away from his book to look at the man. Tony’s eyes were on his arm. Loki felt a jolt the way he always did to have his soulmate staring at his mark.

“Not particularly. One gets used to it.” Loki’s gaze flicked down to the mortal’s chest. “I imagine you are used to accepting discomfort.”

The man had not spoken much about his arc reactor, but Loki had seen him rub the space and repress grimaces. It was obvious such a piece of metal must ache him. Loki had more than once wished to sooth the man’s troubled brow with seidr, but he did not know how his magic would interact with his soulmate.

“Yeah,” Tony muttered. “But you can do something about yours.”

Loki frowned. “I thought you had advocated leaving my soulmate alone and continuing on my own?”

Tony’s face pinched and he grimaced and glanced away. Loki felt another traitorous burst of hope. It caused him to close his book entirely to focus more of his attention on the conversation.

“Tony?” he enquired.

“Look, I do stand by what I said. But, hell, Loki. I’d never seen you so pale like you were on the battlefield. It doesn’t take a genius to know that this is more than a minor inconvenience. This fucking burns you.”

Loki pursed his lips. He didn’t like seeing his soulmate so pained, but he had no way of easing the man’s discomfort without lying to him. That was something Loki did not want to do.

“I have weighed my options,” Loki eventually stated. “I have decided this is the best course of action.”

“Pain? Denying your soulmate? Fuck, Loki. Is it that bad to be tied to a mortal?”

Loki blinked, surprised. “Of course not. Your mortality is of no consequence to me.”

“Sir,” JARVIS said, sounding purely shocked.

Loki’s eyes widened imperceptibly.

Your.

It was the final piece that JARVIS had needed which, combined, with everything else he knew, would explain exactly who’s soulmark would match his own.

“Be silent JARVIS,” Loki immediately ordered.

Tony frowned, glancing between Loki and the nearest camera.

“What’s going on? What did I just miss?” His eyes widened. “Wait. Does JARVIS know who your soulmate is?”

“That is immaterial,” Loki growled, glaring at the nearest camera.

“No, no, no, but like I’ve looked.”

Loki’s gaze snapped to Tony. The engineer was rummaging over his desk before he eventually pulled out the wrap Loki had discarded on the battlefield. Loki’s eyes widened. He stood from the couch and stepped forward, snatching it from the mortal’s hand. It had the imprint of his mark.

“Why would you do this?” Loki hissed. “This is my mark.”

“Look, I know, okay. But, I just. Ever since I saw your mark, I haven’t been able to fucking get it out of my head. Like, I had to know who it belonged to. Why you refused it. Why you…” He clenched his fists. “Why you would go through so much pain to deny them.” He let out a heavy breath. “And it’s shit and against privacy laws but I just… I fucking looked everywhere but I can’t find a single soulmark to match yours. None.”

He swallowed and looked up at Loki.

“I even thought that you or some of the Chitauri killed them. I got really worried but I couldn’t find anything to indicate that it was the case. And you’d never spoken of them in the past tense and-”

“You should not be looking at all,” Loki said harshly.

“I know, okay?” Tony said, leaping to his feet and beginning to pace. “But it was like an itch. Like something under my skin told me to keep looking.”

He rubbed his forearm, seemingly unconsciously but Loki tracked the motion. He swallowed and before he could think, he stepped forward and caught the man’s wrist. His mark pulsed with a sharp heat, but unlike normal, the feeling was almost… comfortable.

Tony did not fight his grip and Loki pulled up the man’s hand, showcasing his unmarred tan skin.

“You will never find the mark that matches mine,” Loki whispered, the words escaping before he could think to catch them. He looked up and caught Tony’s confused gaze. “It never formed."

Tony frowned, his genius mind thinking, revising and clearly catching on the same word JARVIS had.

“No,” he whispered. “No, soulmates don’t half initiate. That isn’t a thing.”

“It is when the Mind Stone possesses one of them,” Loki whispered. “Or perhaps, it is when one is capable of defying magic.”

Loki lifted his other hand, the one with his soulmark, and brushed the spot in the centre of the man’s chest that had denied the sceptre.

Tony’s eyes were wide and shocked.

“I’m your soulmate?” he whispered, seeming to be seeking confirmation.

Loki’s lips twitched in an ironic smile that had been frequent since he’d learned he was the only half of a soulbond.

“You have no mark,” Loki said, releasing the man. “So, you are only as connected to me as you wish to be.”

He started to step back, but this time, it was Tony’s turn to grab his wrist. He froze. Tony’s hand was mere inches from his mark. It throbbed again with the same warmth from earlier. His mark remained angry around the edges as if still bristling from a burn, but the skin around it was less red.

“I told you I didn’t want you,” Tony murmured, his voice soft but noticeably stricken.

Loki dragged his gaze from where Tony was touching him to the man’s face. He was staring at Loki’s mark and the distress was plain. He lifted his free hand, moving towards Loki’s mark. Loki’s breath caught and although his heart sped up, before Tony could get close enough to touch it, Loki caught his wrist and stopped him. Tony looked at him.

“You said you do not want a soulmate.”

“I did,” Tony admitted. “I’m still not sure what I want.” He gave a faint, sardonic smile. “But I know the idea of some random mortal with your mark has been pissing me off for days.” His gaze moved back to the mark. “I know that this is bigger than science.” He swallowed. “And I know that JARVIS would never admit the times I drunkenly told him how much I wanted to meet my soulmate.”

Loki sucked in a breath and when Tony tugged his hand free, Loki let him. When he hesitated in the air over Loki’s mark, Loki held his breath – but the moment Tony’s fingertip touched his mark, Loki felt the magic surge out of him and between them.

He gasped and Tony did the same. Loki felt the same power that had burned his skin pour out of him like water from a dam. But it didn’t hurt. It hummed with a satisfaction that sent warmth radiating from his mark to every tip of his body.

Loki hadn’t realised he’d closed his eyes, but when he did, he snapped them open. He immediately looked down to Tony’s arm.

There was a mark. One that matched his in every curve and stroke. Loki reached for it and traced the pattern. The same pattern he had touched for months. Only it was not ragged, raw or imprinted on his skin. It was smooth and beautiful as it painted Tony with a mark that declared him Loki’s.

He felt a touch to his own arm only to find Tony’s fingers repeating his motions and memorising the shapes. Loki smiled, feeling an almost overwhelming happiness and relief. The mark did not burn, the mark was shared.

He had not thought it would ever be something he would experience.

“You are my soulmate,” Loki whispered, unable to contain his joy.

Tony’s gaze jerked up to meet his and he smiled; open and genuine.

“Looks like I am.”

Loki didn’t think he’d ever heard words that were sweeter or had a moment more blissful. Because finally, he had his other half.