st_ormbreaker | (no subject)

(no subject)

Thor idly throws Mjölnir up in the air with a spin, then catches it easily in one hand. He always tends to play with his hammer whenever he's feeling restless and for some reason, he feels restless now. Going home suddenly feels incredibly important, even though the only thing waiting for them there is the festival and accompanying feast for Walpurgis. The holiday might have felt important when he was much younger, the same way Yule was important to him when he was very small, but 1500 years of celebrating and feasting had drained his excitement for it. It wasn't that he didn't enjoy it (he did) -- at this point, it felt more ritual than anything else.

Still, there was something that felt important about it this time in ways it hadn't before. He couldn't help but think it was because Tony was accompanying him. None of the other Avengers had ever had the chance to visit his homeworld, and it was difficult for him not to feel excited and proud to show it all to someone.

"You will want to stay close," he says, before he lifts Mjölnir. "You do not want to fall off of it."

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In Tony's still-quite inebriated state, he gave his partner a quizzical little smile and lowered his hand, giving it a firm pat. "It's my armor, Big Guy. Nanoparticles, fresh off the press." He emphasized his point with a metallic 'SNAP' that resonated above the dull roar of the crowds.

In the next moment, his arm was bare--the armor following his directives by mere thought.

"New development, I know. Usually I had to call on the clunky suit from afar." He tossed the crowd another shining grin, still bathed in their attention.

Snap.

Thor takes a step back, and he doesn't know why. The unease he felt before threatens to consume all of him.

And he doesn't know why.

Thor doesn't say anything to Tony. He just turns on heel and stalks away, trying to make sense of it. He's sure that if he just gets away from the crowd and the sounds maybe he can figure it all out.

Fandral calls out to him as he begins to make his exit, waving for Thor to join them again. Thor attempts a smile (he's always been good at those), but continues to maneuver through the impossibly growing crowd.

Were the doors to the Grand Hall always so far away?

Tony was left in Thor's wake, drawn rudely out of his comfortable boozey state. The look on the other man's face was unreadable, and while the others in his audience were content to laugh it off as the prince being called to more drink, Tony excused himself abruptly to follow in hot pursuit.

"Hey, hey, hey." Tony reached Thor in record time with a little foot-repulsor aid, stumbling into a stride along side him when he caught up right as Thor was making his exit. "What is the rush?"

Thor turns and looks at Tony, his brows furrowed; even with Tony here by him, he can't seem to shake this mounting feeling.

"I don't know," Thor says at Tony's shirt. He's not used to not knowing, and somehow that makes all of this even worse.

"Alright." Once they came to a full stop, Tony was tilting his head and getting his best read on Thor as he could. The man seemed genuinely beside himself in...something. If he was angry, it would have been obvious. Thor didn't exactly shy away from expressing it.

"We can go it alone for a bit. Maybe it'll come to you." Offering little else but some levity, as he always did, Tony drew close and gently rapped his knuckles on the larger man's jaw. "Don't say you need to go by yourself. I'm selectively deaf."

Thor nods dumbly at Tony's suggestion. He should say something, but he doesn't know what to say. When they push through the crowd, the doors somehow seem closer than they were before, and Thor's not sure if it's because it's less oppressive now that Tony's here, or if he was simply imagining it further than it was.

He reaches for Tony's hand, and leads the way out of the hall.

Tony struggled to keep up with the Asgardian's quick pace and long legs, practically jogging along behind to avoid being dragged altogether.

"Gentle, gentle...! I want to kiss you, not...whatever material we're walking on." A little lame with the quips with the Asgardian brew coursing through his veins. He wasn't, however, slow with the stunts, using Thor's grip on him as a pivot point to jet propel himself around to the man's front.

"Can we pause?" Tony's vision carne back into view as he steadied himself with Thor as the focal point. God, he was handsome. "I...have had the best time. Full stop."

Thor stops just short of plowing right into Tony, their bodies a mere inch or two apart. He looks down at him and finds that Tony does look truly happy. He really does look like he's having a good time.

And Thor is ruining it.

Just looking at Tony is enough to steady him emotionally, and though he can't shake the disconcerting feeling, it retreats just enough for him to be able to ignore it. "I'm sorry," he says. "I don't know what's come over me. I--"

He shakes his head.

"...Too much? Not enough?" Tony ran a hand through his hair, quirking his head to one side.

"I kid, I kid. Why don't you, ah, show me your princely quarters? Take a break from the noise." Ever since becoming an Avenger, there were nights where Tony would just need a moment or several away. "It's been a long day. I'm feeling a little change in ambiance."

"Yeah," Thor agrees quietly. It would probably be best if they call it an early end to the night.

Thor leads Tony to his quarters, past well-manicured gardens and elaborate fountains. Elaborate art decorated the walls: Bur, Bor, Odin, Frigga, Hela, Loki, Thor. The war with the dark elves. His father's battle with Surtur. His father repelling the Frost Giants from Midgard, flanked by Asgardian warriors. For the first time in a very long time, Thor finds himself looking at them; for so long, they'd been in these halls that they became just another fixture, like a light or a chair. Something whose existence was acknowledged, but rarely thoroughly examined.

Before long, they hit Thor's suite of rooms; the bunch of them together are larger than Barton's entire house.

"Make yourself at home," Thor says as he gingerly sets Mjölnir down. "Washroom's there if you need it." He gestures in the direction of another door. There's several, even outside the one they entered from.

"Thanks. I don't, by the way." Tony's eyes had been rapt to their surroundings the entire walk there, but had been scarce to leave Thor's form when they got settled. He wrapped his arms around the larger man from behind, pressing his cheek against the broad expanse of his back. "May in a little bit."

As awe-inspiring as the many, royal, sights of this alien planet had been, they were a lot to take in, even for a man who thought he'd seen it all like Tony. Decompressing with a tight hold on his partner was overdue.

Thor finds his body naturally relaxing beneath the weight of Tony's arms, and whatever residual anxiety he still had inside of him was sapped clean in an instant.

Even when it feels like it might be appropriate to do so, Thor doesn't pull away from Tony's embrace. "I am glad you were able to come," he says. "I have wanted to show you my home for a long, long time, before --"

Before what? Thor can't seem to remember, so he just lets his words stop there. Inside his pocket, he can feel the ring there reminding him of what needs to do, and what he needs to say every time his leg moves and it brushes against him.

"I know that you have never liked being tethered down to anything or anyone," Thor begins. "But I am really, really happy just being with you in a way I haven't been for some time."

What did he have to be unhappy about? He can't remember that, either. But that doesn't bother him now.

"How much do you like Asgard?" he asks, finally.

"Since when have I ever said no to being tethered down?" Tony was tipsy enough to make juvenile quips but sober enough not to laugh at himself for making them, pushing up on his toes to bump the back of Thor's neck with his nose before retreating to lounge on the grand bed. He loosened his tie.

"Decor's a little humble for my tastes," He winked, "But I can't fault the people. Far cry from New Yorkers." Tony had nothing but cheeky sentiment in his heart for his home town, but the Asgardian folk were a breath of fresh air. Smiles, unpretentious appreciation for a good time, and a high tolerance for boister.

"I see where you get your good genes from. And that nerve." Hela and Frigga were utterly breathtaking and had such goddessly presence that zero part of Tony even dared to say otherwise. Odin wore his age, but damn if the man would let anyone say that to his face. "I think they like me. They didn't kill me."

Thor smiles at Tony's words. He can't help but feel relieved; though he was genuinely happy to finally bring him here, there was some part of him that was worried. Would it be too ostentatious? Too loud? Too overwhelming?

But apparently, it was fine. Better than fine. And Thor was grateful for it.

Thor sits down on the bed next to him. He looks over at Tony and is suddenly overcome with affection for the man.

"Well," he says. "How would you feel about becoming a prince of Asgard yourself?"

Tony leaned back on a palm, raising his head to gaze at the high, decorated, ceiling in thought. "Used to pretend I was. As a kid. King of my own kingdom. Robot entourage, a bed that could traverse space..."

The way Tony says it all, his childhood dreams all sound pretty romantic.

But the indirect approach wasn't working.

Thor slips his hand into his pocket and palms the ring, turning it over in his hand. Had he not been so sure of it, he might have felt the need to build up the nerve, but there's no hesitation here.

Thor places his other hand beneath Tony's chin and guides his face so he's looking over at him instead of up at the ceiling.

"I am asking you to marry me."

"Oh."

Tony blinked, slowly. "Oh. Okay."

His breath escaped him in a shuddering chuckle. It wasn't a shockingly new concept. They had been "official" for four years, and all that entailed. Their teammates had been prodding and joking over it for a good half of those years, so much so that Tony and Thor had some back-and-forths themselves. They were adults, after all.

But hearing it...

"So that would make me a prince. A literal one." He was shocked that question soared right over him.

Thor's smile widens at Tony's reaction. The ring is still in his hand, pressed tight enough against his palm that he's sure there'll be a little circle-shaped indent inside of it by the time all of this is over.

"Tony Stark. Billionaire. Inventor. Playboy. Philanthropist. Prince of Asgard. The title and all its privileges are there if you want it. Prince Anthony does have a ring to it."

"Billionaire always comes first. So we make it clear I'm not gold-digging." Tony was quick to add--his mouth moving while his brain processed.

The future aside, he reflected on how it all felt this far.

Being with Thor was...easy. Them being together as romantic partners wasn't much different from them being partners in combatting threats--there was simply some added knowledge of the Asgardian's measurements in there. Neither rolled over when the other got uppity, but neither did they brush up against each other to bicker endlessly. The one-upsmanship was still real, but regardless of who "won," they always ended up bragging to whoever would listen about the other.

Their fellow Avengers likely found that even more insufferable. The thought amused Tony.

The more he thought, the more he wanted it to last. Just like this. It wouldn't--Thor would far outlive him. But if Thor was committed to the time they had...

"...His Royal Highness Man of Iron will do."

"His Royal Highness Man of Iron it is."

It isn't until Tony says it that Thor becomes completely aware of how much happiness he's capable of feeling at once. He had always been quick to joy or anger growing up, and had little problem expressing eitherto great effect. Until recently, when his banishment forced him to consider the impact his brash anger had on those around him, he never felt to reign any of it in. He let himself feel and express those feelings without any self-consciousness or doubt. And happiness more than anything; anger could (and had!) caused problems, but happiness never did.

That joy is radiating off him now, and even if he wanted to hide his growing smile, it would have been impossible for him to do so.

Thor holds out the hand with the ring and opens it.

"It is Earth custom for one partner to give the other a ring, is it not?" Thor had done his research on the World Wide Web with Jane's assistance. "Should I put it on?"

Before he can say anything else, Thor's gaze flickers down to Tony's hand and suddenly he can't remember which hand or finger he's supposed to put it on.

Hands. The gauntlet. The wrong hands. For a second, Thor's smile falters, but then he casts that unease aside. His smile brightens as his faltering memory recovers the relevant facts.

"Left, right?"

"Right, left." Tony can't help but immediately say, his offhand manner belying an intense, mounting excitement. He presented the correct hand for Thor to do the honors.

Had he wanted this that badly all along? As he got older, the promiscuity lost its luster, he had made that obvious long ago. But settling down down...he had had dreams about it, but part of it believed it was fanciful and the relationship would be settled in a comfortable 'committed but informal' status quo.

But there anyone more fanciful than Thor?

"Ring finger, fourth from the right. My right, not yours."

Thor takes Tony's hand into his own and eventually works out what tony means (the finger next to the pinky). The ring slides onto Tony's hand easily and magically adjusts to fit his finger with an appropriate amount of snugness.

Thor had no idea how anyone on Earth managed to figure out anyone else's ring size without asking them themselves. It wasn't as if rings had tags he could examine while Tony was in the shower.

"There," he says, once it's done. "I believe it is also customary that we kiss."

And in an attempt to abide by human proposal custom, Thor leans forward to do exactly that.

Thor's face was hovering expectantly inches from Tony's own, and he didn't bother to hold back the flattered, amused little smirk that arose (since the other man's eyes were closed.)

Tony's eyes began to float closed in preparation of leaning in to meet him--and he never did, sitting back.

"Hold up."

Thor stops, then blinks at Tony.

"What?"

Tony didn't answer, keeping his gaze fixed on Thor's in an almost pleading manner. He pressed his hands down on the larger ones at his lap, swallowing thickly.

"We could stay here."