All Things Considered, This Was Unexpected

So You Are A King?

Stark thought for a long time. The silence was eating at him. It made Tony self-conscious, and he squirmed a little. He was upset. The words hurt. The way Loki said the question felt like a personal barb. Tony had a feeling the bastard did it on purpose. People already knew--know about his past. It was safe to say there wasn't a person who didn't. Tony thought if he exposed this part of him, then Loki might feel inclined to do the same, to share a personal experience-a tragic one.

An-eye-for-an-eye type situation.

"Early in my life, my father ran a weapons company. He created things that destroyed vitality--other people, homes, and lives. And once upon a time, it was my turn to inherit such a life. I was young, arrogant, and conceited,"

Loki scoffed as if nothing much about him had changed.

"Trust me. I was a much different kind of asshole back then. Nothing like how I was is what I want to be again. Anyway, I got the company, hence Stark Industries. I created things to kill. My weapons sold for billions. Rockets, missiles, guns. All my designs, all my configurations. All of it, intentionally. They called me The Merchant of Death, catchy, isn't it? I would say I'm responsible for hundreds of thousands of deaths. If not more." Tony was slumped over in his chair when he brought his story to a close. He looked tired, haunted.

"So, what made you go from an arms dealer to a man who makes clean energy worldwide? There had to be something that transpired for you to have changed from being a secondhand mass murderer to a 'superhero'"

"Christ. You don't pull punches, do you? Your words wound me," Tony said as he placed his hand over the arc reactor and feigned ache. "But, uh, that was two questions when it was supposed to be my turn, Maleficent."

"Maleficent?"

"And there's another," Tony shook his head, pretending to be disappointed.

"Okay, lemme think." Stark mumbled, "You're a god. And Thor said you were the God of Mischief, but you're more like a God of Malice. What's up with that? Who gave you the false title of mischief 'cause the glare you're giving doesn't seem all that mischievous to me. It's more deadly."

Loki hated this. Really.

"I've never been quick to admit such a thing, but I am not evil. I never was," Loki pointedly looked away as he breathed that last part. I was always the God of Mischief, the path the Norns chose for me never worked out in my favor, and it never will. And just like all beings-I simply had a misstep."

Loki looked as miserable as he felt.

"A misstep?" Anthony's tone was flat. His stare was too.

"Maybe two," Loki smirked despite feeling like absolute shit.

"Okay, I didn't really get what I wanted out of that, but whatever, your turn. Question 2."

"Are you a prince of this realm?" That was Loki's question, and he asked it earnestly. What made it funny was Tony could tell he was dead-ass.

"What!" Tony laughed loudly. He felt tears corner his eyes.

Loki did not like being laughed at, and it showed, "You truly are a child."

"Wheew, that was funny, man. No, I am not a prince."

"So you are a king?"

Tony chuckled, "No, dude, I know you were here on Earth lately but did you do your research?

Loki cocked an eyebrow.

"Okay, I guess you weren't gonna get quizzed on Earth and its inhabitants. I don't blame you," Tony mused. "Uh, no, not a prince. Even I know my ego wouldn't be able to handle that. Certain places here don't have monarchies anymore, especially America."

Loki took thought for a moment.

"Surely you know you can be. You have the wealth. You have one of the most ingenus minds this horrid place has to offer."

"What is it with you and your want to rule?" Tony almost yelled.

And unbelievably an hour and a half of talking later, Loki dismissed him telling 'Anthony' that he needed rest.

Tony was so fucking screwed.