Chapter Text
Loki
Loki heaved a big sigh and fought the desire to roll his eyes. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t known this was coming. The moment Thor had been named heir, he had been immediately relegated to being the spare. That meant that, politically, he could only be useful as a bargaining chip. He was an errant scarf flapping in the wind, only of worth if he could be tied to another. He supposed he had had a good few years up until now, when they had been searching to find where Loki would be strategically placed.
Loki had never known such freedom as he had in the last decade. Odin’s watchful eye had been pointed unerringly at Thor. Loki’s brother had the spotlight he had always desired so much, and he had regretted it just as much. Loki had to hide his smirk at the memory of his perfect older brother sweating under the pressure, while Loki had spent his time wandering the realms and studying in his room.
Loki’s magic had never been stronger. He hadn’t known what he was truly capable of until he had finally had the time to really push himself. He had discovered an entirely new state of being. His focus on shapeshifting had started with simple changes of hair color, nose, etc until finally, he was able to fully change his sex, his gender even. She had still been Loki, still felt like herself, but somehow entirely new at the same time. It had been an absolute revelation. Magical in every sense of the word.
Sure, as he progressed in his shapeshifting abilities, turning into a wolf or hawk was more difficult and certainly flashier, but Loki found himself more often than not, shapeshifting into his female form for fun, for relaxation, just because he could.
“Loki, are you listening?” Odin’s sharp voice cut through Loki’s musings.
“Of course, father,” Loki responded automatically.
“So you agree?” Odin asked, his voice making it clear he did not believe Loki for a second.
“I might need to hear the question one more time, just to be sure I understand.”
Odin smacked his hand on the table. “Can you please take this seriously?”
Loki grimaced at that, he was not the one who struggled to take life seriously, quite the contrary.
“You’ve been granted endless leeway the last several years, larking about with your magic nonsense. Your mother thought the time would do you good, allow you to get it out of your system so you could do your duty. But all I’ve seen is that you’ve lost what little sense you had in the process.”
Loki’s face was stone. Odin’s words didn’t make a mark that anyone could tell. Loki’s insides were cold and shaky, his heart clenched with hurt, but his face was as cold as winter.
“What are you looking for agreement on, All-father?” Loki asked in a voice that did not waver.
“See? Is that so hard?” Odin growled. “The match is with Anthony Stark. He is the adopted brother of Prince Steve of Alfheim. You are of a similar age, and Alfheim has risen in status in the last decades, they say that it may be due to Prince Anthony’s strategies. He seems to understand what a second prince should be spending his time on.”
Loki already loathed the man. He could see exactly how this alliance would go, being paired with a man that he would be measured against for the rest of his life. As if growing up with the embodiment of the Asgardian ideal wasn’t bad enough, he’d be married to the ideal of the second son. He’d never escape it. A part of Loki wanted to run. Just flee to the wilds of Vanaheim or the mines of Nidavelir. To cease being Loki Odinson and give up on everything. But the challenge in Odin’s eye, and the sorrow in Frigga’s held his feet, for now.
“It sounds like a mutually beneficial match, I agree.”
“That’s not what I needed you to agree on, boy, the match is happening whether you like it or not,” Odin snapped.
“Of course,” Loki murmured.
“What I require you to agree to is presenting yourself as a true Asgardian prince. That means leaving behind this magic nonsense you’ve been frittering away your time with. You will be in leathers, training and strategizing. You will certainly not be wearing skirts and embarrassing yourself or your family any longer.”
Loki’s blood turned to ice. While he had made no secret of his magic training, he hadn’t known that Odin knew about the shape changing. Loki knew he’d never approve, so he had kept that confined to his rooms or other worlds. Had Odin been sending Huginn or Muninn after him? He’d been so careful, sure he could detect them if that were the case.
Loki’s life truly was over. With no magic, what did he really have to live for? He really had been reduced to little more than a pawn in the game of Asgardian politics. But if Odin found out about the shape changing, he could find Loki wherever he ran. There was truly no escape.
“As the All-father commands,” Loki replied tonelessly. Sealing his fate.
Anthony
Tony was in the groove, the hammer came down at the perfect angle, the red metal stretched exactly like it should. Tony was lost in the sweet music of clanging metal and the hiss of water evaporating as he cooled things down.
“Tony,” a wheedling voice came through behind him.
Tony’s blow glanced off the metal and Tony cursed.
“Don’t you Tony me, Steve.”
“It was mostly your idea,” Steve continued.
“Yeah, to set up an alliance with Asgard. You know paper, ink, trade agreements, boring shit. Not marriage.”
“It’s how they do things.”
“Well you can thank them for their interest, that’s not how we will be doing things.”
“This can’t possibly be all that surprising. Even before we took you in, as the heir of the second most powerful family on Alfheim, you likely would have married for political gain.”
“Yeah, to an elf, not some knuckle-dragging Asgardian. I would have been able to stay home, have my friends and family, been mostly myself.”
“You know you would have never been allowed this.”
Tony heaved a sigh; he hated when Steve was right.
“I know.”
“Your father never allowed-“
“I know.”
“You’ve only been given leniency-“
“I know! I get it! It’s a stupid dream and it was always going to be temporary.”
“It’s just not done, Tony. Metal working is for the dwarves. The Asgardians are warriors and us elves are scholars. That’s how it is.”
“I’m pretty smart too, you know. Not just a pretty face.”
Steve laughed. “Oh, I know. Fortunately, I’ve heard Prince Loki is rather smart too.”
“Smart for an Asgardian, maybe,” Tony muttered.
He could just see it now. Asking after his dear husband's day and getting told about this kill and that battle. Trying to share with him the book Anthony just read and seeing the subject matter go straight over the, he assumed blonde, lunk’s head. All while Tony had to give up the thing he loved most.
But he knew he couldn’t say no. Far from helping diplomatic relations, that would put them squarely in Asgard’s crosshairs. And as much as Anthony felt that Alfheim had some backwards thinking, for all that they claimed to be learned, he would never do anything to harm his country, and especially not his adopted brother. Scholars picking fights with warriors never ended well, no matter how many books on battle strategies they read.
So Tony dropped the sword he was working on and dropped the hammer. He walked over to Steve and put a reassuring hand on his brother’s shoulder. Steve’s smile didn’t quite meet his blue eyes. They still looked a bit sad. Tony knew Steve wanted him to be happy, but some things were just out of their control.