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batsutousaiTitle: Never Gonna Touch the Ground
Fandom: Marvel (movie 'verse)
Author: Batsutousai
Beta: Runic
Rating: Mature
Pairings: Tony Stark/Loki
Warnings: AU – fantasy setting, dragon!Loki, class and race discrimination
Summary: An interesting sounding side-quest brings a new member into an unlikely party of adventurers, and unveils a city's general dislike of the shadows for what it really is: Discrimination of anyone whose job it is to work from the shadows.
Disclaim Her: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Marvel. The Dungeons & Dragons and Pathfinder worlds belong to their creators. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
A/N: My D&D/Pathfinder character has a dragon thing, and it's kind of taken over our current game. My DM asked me a couple dragon questions, and while looking up answers, I thought, 'You know, wouldn't it be cool if Loki was a dragon?' Which then followed, of course, a need to roll a character sheet for dragon!Loki. (I like rolling sheets, shut up.) Runic, when I told her, suggested I roll up the rest of the Avengers. (And Dr Strange, because we have a Strange thing, Runic and I.)
Fast forward to a few nights later, while I was coughing up my left lung and failing to sleep, my brain started providing me with a plot. For a fic.
I am not even a little bit sorry.
Things to know: As a general rule, I'm using the D&D rules and info, since that's my homebase, as it were, but Runic did talk me into using a Pathfinder-specific class for Phil.
Pretty much everyone is human. Loki's a dragon, clearly, and Bruce is half hill-giant. And the familiars are...well... Our boys are a bit special.
Some spells and magical items have been slightly repurposed to fit my whims but, as a general rule, everything is treated as it should be based on the descriptions in the books I got them in.
The fic does change point of view from one scene to the next. It might get a bit confusing, but it was a nice way to sort of explain backstories and delve into the different classes. I mean, half the fun of RPing is jumping into a new character and learning how best to use their skills.
They were, quite possibly, the most unlikely team of adventurers out there. Or, well, that's how Clint liked to put it, but Natasha knew for a fact that there were odder groups out there. (Just last week, they'd seen three rogues and a bard travelling with a paladin, not a one of them human or anything like the same race; at least their team was mostly human, different classes aside.)
It had started out as just Natasha and Clint, travelling together in their sneaky way, taking on whatever work they could find and running from the consequences.
Eventually, as these things go, they came to a point where they needed a spellcaster of some sort. (And a healer wouldn't be remiss, either, but they could always continue to make do with potions.) As luck would have it, the famous weaponsmith, Tony Stark, was in town and looking for an adventure. He even had a friend who happened to be a cleric with him, Bruce Banner.
In truth, Bruce wasn't a cleric. Or, well, he hadn't started out as a cleric. Which wasn't to say that he wasn't a fine healer when necessary, just that, sometimes, he went into a barbarian rage in the middle of a fight, and they had to wait a little bit for him to calm down before he could see to any wounds.
Well, Natasha figured, there was nothing wrong with having someone along with them who could deal out some serious damage. And, next to Tony – with his homunculus familiar, his apparent need to float everywhere, and his refusal to enjoy a full-night's sleep – Bruce was, actually, quite normal.
They came across Phil and Steve not even a week after Tony and Bruce joined up. Tony was enthralled by Phil's mechanical weapons – guns, he called them; Clint had a bet going with himself about how long it would be until Tony started building his own – and Steve seemed to appreciate having someone else around who would rush enemies with him, rather than standing back and taking careful aim.
Stephen they discovered in the next town. Or, well, it would be more exact to say that Tony's homunculus found Stephen's felldrake while the party was arguing about continuing together or splitting up. The two familiars were immediate friends – "Kind of hard not to be, when you've got to deal with those two," Clint had muttered, jerking his thumb Stephen and Tony, who were so alike, Phil had once suggested they were twins separated at birth.
Stephen had come with a quest from a patron of his, and it appeared their large group was just what the sorcerer needed. They debated fees, Clint made a crack about how he and Natasha would have been so much better off if they'd found Stephen before Tony and Bruce – the sorcerer specialised in healing and protective magic – and then set off after a night's sleep.
It took about half an hour for Tony and Stephen to find something to argue about, and that had characterised their relationship since. If it wasn't about the differences in their spellcasting – Tony was a wizard, Stephen a sorcerer – it was about spell preferences. Or Tony having a familiar that was, technically, not alive. Or whether it was better to float or fly, as opposed to walking. Or whether the gods existed or not – Tony had once told a paladin he didn't believe in the gods, and Stephen worshiped a group of gods who none of the rest of them had heard of before. Or–
Actually, in truth, there wasn't much they didn't fight about.
Most of the party ignored them when they got into one of their spats, but Steve just could not put up with the fighting. It was even odds whether he would step in to stop them, or they would just huff and decide to ignore each other for the rest of the day, first. (Clint and Natasha occasionally made bets on the outcome, while Phil just looked amused and Bruce tried to pretend he didn't know any of them.)
"If nothing else," Phil told Bruce one evening, while Steve was yelling at the two arcane spellcasters, as they set up camp, "at least it provides some entertainment. And it's not like they've ever come to blows."
"It's distracting," Bruce complained in return. "And blows or no, they're loud enough that it hardly matters if they're cursing each other stupid, anyone who wants to attack us can hear us coming plenty early enough to set up a trap, and we'd never know until we were in the middle of it."
"Should we be insulted?" Clint whispered to Natasha; as a scout, it was his job to keep an eye out for danger ahead or behind, something that Natasha had started helping with more as the group grew.
Natasha rolled her eyes. "Be proud; Bruce clearly doesn't realise how valuable we are. That means we're doing our job."
"Your job," Clint insisted. "You're the sneaky one."
Natasha didn't think that deserved a response.
Tony dropped onto the boulder Natasha was sitting on, draping an arm around her shoulders as though he didn't know perfectly well how much she liked her personal space, and how quickly she could draw one of her many daggers and have it pressed against the hollow of his throat. Natasha was resigned to him any more, however, and didn't even bother flinching, which was probably why he always did it. "Stephen's setting up the alarm spell," he told them. "How much longer until we're to the main show, Monkey-Boy?"
Clint rolled his eyes at the name Tony had started calling him the first time he'd gone swinging through the trees to get around the quicksand they'd come upon, then pulled out the map the city mayor had given him when they'd agreed to look into the....whatever it was that had been terrorising the area. (Complaints were about anything from a band of bandits, to a couple werewolves, to a giant, to a dragon. Fourteen other adventuring parties had already vanished in an attempt to find the problem over the past several years, and they probably would have passed it over, themselves, if the reward hadn't been so impressive. They'd already spent most of the day avoiding illusionary attempts to distract them or frighten them away, and Natasha sort of wondered how many of the missing parties had just got lost and left in shame.)
Clint spread the map out across his knees, tilted so he could use the light of the fire to see it, and considered it for a moment before saying, "We should come across it sometime tomorrow afternoon, assuming we leave at our usual time and the mountain isn't too steep."
"We'll all have to get a good night's sleep, then," Steve said, settling in next to Bruce. He shot a look at Tony in lieu of saying who he meant out loud. As if they didn't all know who he was talking about.
Tony rolled his eyes and dropped his head onto Natasha's shoulder. "I sleep so much better when I've a warm body–"
"Not on your life," Natasha informed him drily, but she didn't pull away; the flirting was normal. And if he was flirting with her, he wasn't seeing how quickly he could make one of the other males blush.
Tony's homunculus hopped up into his lap, making a chittering sound. Tony pulled away from Natasha to cup the creature between his hands, bringing it up to his eye level and cooing at it in response.
"Have I mentioned recently how much I hate that you people have your own language," Clint muttered as he put the map away.
"Yes, 'us people'," Stephen said as he tucked his legs up under him, floating a good three feet off the ground. (Natasha sometimes wondered if the floating thing wasn't related to being an arcane spellcaster, honestly, though she'd never met another person who floated around as much as Stephen or Tony.) His felldrake settled underneath him, curling up as though to sleep, but keeping one eye cracked. "Some of us don't need to speak in nonsense to our familiars." He gave Tony a superior look.
As if making his master's point, the felldrake rumbled something in Draconic.
Tony narrowed his eyes at the other familiar and rumbled something back which made Stephen's own eyes narrow.
"If you two are going to start another fight, could you at least speak in a language the rest of us understand?" Phil requested absently as he ran a cloth over the barrel of his pistol.
"It's not my fault you people are uncultured," Tony said, eyes glinting in the light of the fire. As an afterthought, he added, "No offence, Brucey."
Bruce, who was half-hill giant, just rolled his eyes and said something in... Natasha was never sure whether he was speaking Giant or Orc; they sounded too alike, to her, and she'd seen evidence that he spoke both fluently.
"No, we are not going to start trading insults between languages again," Steve snapped before Tony could respond in one of the billion languages he knew. (Natasha was convinced he collected them. Phil seemed to think he knew so many because so many races bought his weapons, which seemed likely, but he always showed a certain amount of glee when he realised someone couldn't understand him.) "Anthony, stop trying to start things."
Tony grimaced at the use of his full name, but wisely returned his attention to his homunculus, murmuring and cooing nonsense to the noises it made.
Everyone else took that as a sign that they should pull out their evening rations – Clint's attempt to shoot a buck before they stopped hadn't quite worked out, and none of them had had any luck spotting edible vegetation, so dry rations it was. As they finished eating, they slowly peeled away from the fire to set up their bedrolls.
"Do we want to set a watch?" Clint asked of Phil as Natasha attempted to clear a space just behind the boulder she'd been sitting on; as the only woman in the party, she always got the spot closest to the fire, if she wanted it, and she always took it.
Phil looked towards where Stephen was leaning over his folded legs with some salted meat for his familiar. "Will you be insulted if I say yes?"
Stephen shrugged. "Given how many illusions we have had to face today and how close we are to our goal, I would rather err on the side of caution." Then he looked to Tony, as though expecting a snarky comment, and he wasn't the only one.
Tony, though, simply nodded, a frown creasing his brow. "Having at least one person alert in case of an attack wouldn't be a bad idea. Phil, you good to share the watch tonight?"
"Certainly," Phil agreed from his bedroll. "Am I watching for four, or two hours?"
"Tony, you need real sleep," Steve insisted, leaning forward, over the fire. "We can split the watch into four–"
"And have three of you running on only six hours sleep?" Tony demanded, his frown darkening. "You agreed, everyone needs to be at their best. I can function just fine on two hours of sleep, and Phil's the least likely to suffer from getting only six hours. It makes sense for us to do things this way–"
"There is no sense in you depriving yourself of sle–"
"Steve," Stephen cut in, "Tony's right. This is the best way."
Steve just sort of blinked a bit dumbly, completely thrown by Stephen backing Tony. The rest of the party wasn't much better, and it didn't help that the two arcane spellcasters shared the sort of look of understanding that only Clint and Natasha usually traded.
As they all settled in for the night, Tony sending his homunculus out to watch the perimeter while he settled in with his back to the fire, Natasha wondered what secret Stephen knew that none of the rest of them had yet figured out.
Loki hadn't started out wanting to hurt anyone. When he'd finally got free from the gold dragon family that had raised him, he'd gone in hunt of a clan of giants willing to share space with him, as the group nearest his family's cave system had done. The first two places he'd found had been too close to an older dragon's territory, the third had been too far removed from any sort of smaller creatures' dwelling to keep him amused. The fourth had seemed perfect, at first, but then that upstart white dragon had moved in at the peak, ignoring Loki's claim, and bribed the giants into harassing him.
Like his last mountain abode, this place had seemed perfect for him. The mountain was warm enough that no self-respecting white dragon would think it viable, and the only giant in the area was an elderly – if slightly nasty – hill giant, who wanted as much to do with Loki, as Loki wanted to do with him. The nearest smaller creatures' dwelling was within a day's flight, and large enough that no one made note of new arrivals, which meant Loki could come and go as he pleased, with no one the wiser.
The first ten years had been lovely, and Loki had finally started to relax. He made some friends in the city, joined a guild, and learned the ways of the beguiler, which was just his sort of practise. He even went on a couple of adventures; as long as they remained within three day's flight of his home, he was happy to lend assistance to the small people in exchange for treasure and companionship.
His third adventure away from home had been a little farther away than he was comfortable with, and when it turned out to be an ancient black dragon they'd been sent after, Loki had turned tail and fled, leaving his party to the wills of the older dragon. When the small people in the city found out what he'd done, they spoke horrible curses and threats at him, ran him out of the city walls, and told him to not bother coming back.
Loki had returned to his cave in shame and wallowed. He'd just begun considering it might be a good idea to just move on, when the hill giant finally gave up the ghost. A party of adventurers from the city came out to loot his belongings, and a part of Loki that he'd never realised existed came out in its full glory to scare them away.
Reports of a dragon caught the attention of party after party, and after the first violent fight that left Loki wounded and snarling over the dead bodies, he started weaving illusions of other creatures to distract the adventurers or send them off course. Sending the illusions and other inhabitants of his territory to attack anyone who didn't allow themselves to be led astray was the next step, with himself being the last defence.
Most parties were small, and made up of mostly humans, with the occasional elf or halfling. Five had been the largest party previously – two years ago – and the only one to have made it all the way to Loki since he'd started employing his illusions tactic.
The current party, by comparison, was massive. Six small people – humans or half-elves, from a distance – one not-so-small person – a half-orc or half-giant, likely – and a small, wingless lizard of some sort. Two of them were careful in the same way that Loki had been taught, one had an air about him that was very much akin to Loki's adopted family, another more like Loki, and one had an object that let him see through Loki's illusions as though they were never even there. It had taken them a couple hours to realise there were illusions, but once they'd cottoned on, they didn't let themselves be led astray again.
They'd rested for the night, then set out early in the morning, after breaking their camp down with the easy efficiency of long-time adventurers. Loki had sent a few creatures at them, trying to wear them down, and watched with interest as they showed their varied talents: Two spellcasters – he'd figured them for their lack of armour and similar refusal to stay on the ground – the two careful ones, one that used a weapon Loki had never seen before, and the last two were fighters, though the larger one had some magic, as Loki had seen him healing the other fighter after they took down a troll Loki had ordered after them.
Still, they moved at a steady pace, and it was finally left to Loki to destroy them, though he wasn't completely certain he could. (And if that didn't terrify him, he didn't know what would.)
He met them as a human, illusioned with wounds, so as to beg their compassion. He hadn't sent any illusions to them today, so he hoped to catch the one spellcaster unawares.
The male careful one reached him first, always just a little ahead of the others, and he paused upon seeing Loki, eyes going wide, before he called back over the ridge that separated the party, "Stephen! Bruce! There's someone wounded up here!"
The one who saw through Loki's illusions appeared first, eyes sharp with concern. "One of the previous parties?" he asked, only just loud enough for Loki to hear him, as he started forward, very lightly letting himself down to actually walk on the stone of Loki's cave entrance.
Just before they would be in range for Loki to use his breath weapon on them, the larger one and the wingless lizard – a felldrake, cousin to dragons – came into sight. The felldrake immediately snarled, "No! He is wrong! Master, he is wrong!"
The one who always saw grabbed the careful one's arm and put his free hand up to the amulet at his throat. Before he could activate it, Loki transformed back into his dragon shape, snarling at them threateningly as the two humans stumbled backwards, out of range of his tail. The careful one's eyes had gone wide with terror, but the one who saw and the larger fighter both looked almost...calm.
The rest of the party finally topped the ridge. Of them, only the one with the odd weapon and the other spellcaster seemed unaffected by the terror that was Loki's true form; the others and the male careful one ducked back down the ridge, hissing for the four remaining to come down with them.
"Well," the newer spellcaster said, floating closer to Loki and looking up at him with a wide grin, "aren't you just the most gorgeous creature."
Loki's snarl died in his throat and he blinked down at the human, thrown. That was...not the usual response to his presence. And he certainly never expected to hear it with such honesty.
"Tony," the one who saw cautioned as the floating one moved even closer, rising up in the air so he was closer to Loki's eyes. And his mouth, Loki couldn't help but recognise. It wouldn't take much to bite this human for his carelessness.
"I'm fine," the floating human called back, smiling at Loki. "I'm Tony Stark. What's your name?"
Loki blinked at the human, an odd sensation bubbling in his stomach and up his throat, until it escaped as a loud laugh.
The human – Tony – looked back to his companions on the ground and asked, "How does one verbalise laughter as a name?"
"You realise you're insane," the larger one commented with a sort of resigned fondness that spoke of a long companionship.
Tony was grinning when he looked back at Loki. "Seriously. I will settle for calling you Gorgeous, if you don't stop me. Which, given, I probably will anyway, but– Hey, what kind of dragon are you? Because I'm pretty sure there weren't any particularly gorgeous dragons in the books at the academy. Though, given, pictures in books couldn't possibly do you just–"
"I am Loki," Loki finally said, realising he would need to interrupt the human if he was going to get a chance to talk. Though, there was something to be said for the diarrhoea of compliments.
Tony's grin got impossibly wider. "Hello, Loki. Seriously, I'm going to die of curiosity, here. What type of dragon are you?"
"Oh, what a shame that would be," the one who saw said as he floated up to join Tony, keeping just a little behind his fellow spellcaster, wary, but clearly willing to take a chance, since Tony still lived.
"What would Steve say if he could hear you?" Tony said, falsifying a horrified expression as he looked back at the other.
"Absolutely nothing; we're speaking Draconic," the one who saw returned drily, then he looked at Loki and sketched a bow. "Greetings, Loki. I am Stephen Strange. My familiar, Wong, says you are a dragon found usually in the Inner Planes, though he was uncertain as to exactly what type."
Loki looked towards the felldrake, assuming it was the one Stephen meant, and nodded. "I am a crystal dragon."
"No need to ask how you got that name," Tony murmured, floating a little bit closer before Stephen grabbed the back of his cloak, stopping him.
"For once in your life, Tony, learn some restraint," Stephen ordered.
Tony turned an incredulous look over his shoulder. "Did you, honestly, just tell me to choose safety over fun? Me?"
Stephen apparently decided to ignore Tony, for he turned next to Loki and said, "I know that was an illusion, before, but are you wounded at all?"
Loki stared at him for a long moment, disbelieving. "I would have seen you dead, and you ask after my health?"
"You have clearly never met one of those obnoxiously good people who like to make up for their asshole remarks by healing any wound they come across before," Tony commented.
"I'm sorry," Stephen said with a smile that was all sharp edges, "did you want me to stop offering to heal you, then? I mean, I can always just make a point to help everyone else and leave you to Bruce, if you really–"
"You realise you're an asshole."
"What's that saying? Pot, kettle?"
"I have never considered myself as anything less than a fun-loving asshole."
Loki closed his eyes against their argument and transformed himself back into his human shape, leaving them high in the air. The larger one – half-giant, Loki could now see – the one with the odd weapon, and the felldrake took that as a sign that they could approach, and the other three finally peeked over the ridge, braver without Loki's frightful presence keeping them back.
"May I assume you understand Common?" the one with the odd weapon asked as they got into speaking range.
"You may," Loki agreed, tilting his head curiously.
"Excellent. May I ask why you threatened us?"
"This is his lair," the felldrake growled.
"Wong says this is Loki's home," Stephen translated as he and Tony returned to ground level, though neither quite touched their feet to the ground.
The one with the odd weapon allowed that with a shrug, but it was the half-giant that said, "Fair enough. But, then, were you the one to cause all those illusions? Or do you know who it was? Because, dragon or no, we're here for a reason."
Loki frowned. "You have not come to hunt me? To thieve from me?"
"Only if I can make you my personal treasure," Tony said.
Stephen and the other human shot Tony disbelieving looks, but the half-giant just sort of shook his head and explained to Loki, "The illusions have been scaring the city people and confusing visitors. The city mayor keeps sending people out here to find out what's going on, but most parties don't come back, and those that do bring conflicting reports of what is causing all the trouble. We're supposed to find out what the problem is and, if we can, solve it."
Loki stared at the half-giant, searching for any hint of untruth and finding none. Still, "And if I am the cause of the disturbances?"
"Please stop?" the human fighter requested, having finally joined them with the two careful ones. To the one with the odd weapon, he quietly asked, "What have we missed?"
"This is Loki, a crystal dragon. He's gorgeous, I don't know why you three ran," Tony said before the one with the odd weapon could speak.
"This is his cave," the one with the odd weapon said, eyeing Tony like he would very much enjoy using his weapon on the other human in some way. "He's been protecting it."
"He thought we were here to hunt him down. To steal his hoard," Stephen added with a frown.
"Not completely unreasonable," the female said with a careless shrug. "If the mayor realised there was a dragon living out here, he'd be sending out for every adventuring party capable and willing to kill a dragon, just so he could fill the city's treasury."
Loki immediately jerked away from them, rage and terror igniting his blood in equal measures.
"Great. Good. Thanks, Natasha," the half-giant said.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I miss the sending about lying to the dragon about the reality of the situation? Clint and I have seen this before a dozen times: Build a city on land that's difficult to farm on, take away most or all of their herding chances for a couple seasons, send in some summer storms to wreck the supply ships, and then tell them they've got a dragon living nearby. Dragon is hardly the most digestible of meats, but it'll feed you. And the skin and horns and treasure will go a long way to getting more provisions sent."
"I'll raze their city to the ground!" Loki snarled, backing up a bit more so he had room to transform.
"Whoa, wait!" Warm hands gripped Loki's upper arms and he opened his eyes to Tony's wide brown gaze. "Loki, Gorgeous, hold on a minute. They don't know you're here. Okay? The only people who know you're up here is us, and we're not going to go around telling them. Right?" The last was aimed over his shoulder, at the rest of his party, an edge to his voice that made Loki relax, even as a part of him was trying to find the falsity in his words.
"We've got to tell them something," the human fighter pointed out quietly.
"And just because we tell them it's handled, that doesn't mean no one will come up here," the male careful one added.
"But will that really matter if the city's recovered?" Stephen asked, bringing his legs up to fold under himself so he was sitting in mid-air. It was the oddest thing Loki had ever seen a human do, and that helped him to calm down almost as much as the warm contact with another creature did. "I mean, plenty of cities have dragons living on their doorstep; where I grew up was on the edge of two different dragons' territory, and we were at peace with both of them."
"It depends on whether or not the city will get more out of having a dragon as its ally, or keeping their area dragon-free," the one with the odd weapon mused. "As a general rule, a city prefers to ally themselves with a dragon, because there aren't a lot of people willing to take one on. But there are always cities – or city rulers – with bad experiences that refuse to even consider an alliance. I have no idea how this city will react to the news."
"We agree we won't tell any of them about Loki, though, right?" Tony demanded.
"Absolutely," the one with the odd weapon agreed. "We can come up with some other story."
The human fighter let out a vaguely distressed sound. "Phil, lying."
"Steve, saving a life," the one with the odd weapon countered. "Bruce can hit you with silence if you really can't stand the idea."
"How hard would it be to make that silence permanent?" Tony muttered in Draconic. Stephen let out a huff of laughter, while the other humans and half-giant ignored him.
Loki took a breath, determined that he really had nothing to lose by trusting this party, and offered, "It need not, necessarily, be a lie. I am not entirely unknown to the city, though they believe me a human." He grimaced. "A coward, at that; I am unwelcome within the walls."
"That sounds like a story," the male careful one muttered.
"A disgraced sorcerer hiding in the mountains. It's not outside the realm of possibilities," the female commented.
"Beguiler," Loki corrected, because those in the city who remembered him would know the difference. Aasterinian knew, they'd spat his class in his face as they threw him out.
Tony frowned in confusion and turned to look at the rest of the party, finally letting Loki go, leaving a chill to mark his absence. "Okay, translation."
"Think of him like a rogue crossed with a sorcerer," the female said, shrugging. "Ninjas are probably better liked than beguilers."
"And people hate you," Tony said with a faint chuckle, while comprehension dawned for other members of the party. To Loki, Tony said, "You going to harp on me about my familiar?"
Loki blinked, uncertain what that had to do with anything. "I am unaware of what your familiar is."
Tony glanced back towards the party, letting out a high whistle. Everyone froze, then the male careful one let out a curse, preceding the appearance of a dark grey creature, which flew over to Tony and dropped into his outstretched hands. Loki recognised it as an homunculus just before Tony said, "This is my familiar, Jarvis." Then he made an odd cooing noise at the homunculus.
Communication, Loki realised as Jarvis turned to look at him, the two beady eyes almost lost in the rolls of its skin. It chittered at him, and Tony translated, "He says hello. Also, that you are really kind of terrifying when you go big, so could you please not do that again."
Loki blinked, uncertain if the homunculus had actually said that, and not sure it mattered. "Greetings, Jarvis." Tony cooed at it, apparently translating Loki's words, and the dragon couldn't help but ask, "If Jarvis is your homunculus, do you not have a telepathic bond with it?"
Tony's eyes glinted with mischief and Jarvis held one misshapen finger to its mouth. "You might be surprised at how few people actually know that," he murmured in Draconic.
Loki got the sense that there was a lot more to Tony than it first appeared.
All Loki had to do, was decide how interested he was in finding out how much more.
Part Two | Part Three
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Date: 7/11/13 05:03 (UTC)