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Loki had been following the mortal for a number of days. Of the original team that faced him in New York, only Tony Stark remained. After all his careful maneuvering to form that Norns be-damned team, he silently fumed, they fell apart seemingly the moment his back was turned. And what was left? A broken man and the smoking ruin of all Loki's plans for defense against Thanos' arrival.
And the mortal was broken, make no mistake of that. He put on a good show--as he'd always done-- but Loki could see the cracks in the emptiness o his eyes when his facial muscles pulled into the approximation of a smile, in the way his shoulders slumped when he was alone, in the way he moved, the way his hand subconsciously came up to touch fingertips to the center of his chest and skim across, in the very way the mortal breathed, Loki could see it. How did the Midgardians put it? Oh yes, "birds of a feather"? Or perhaps, "takes one to know one"?
Needless to say, this, combined with the utter failure of the Avengers team, did not endear him to Loki at present. But Loki had learned his lesson on acting rashly. So, he watched.
He watched, from a distance and invisible to the eye, as Stark went about day to day. It was nothing terribly interesting; he worked on leg braces to help his lame friend walk again; at the direction of his fiery lady-friend he attended press conferences and interviews--dutifully reading off note cards-- and worked to control the damage the whole "Civil War" had done to his company; he drank. Loki often got the feeling of watching a beaten and bloodied dog limping wounded. Still. There was some look in Stark's eye, just every once in a while....
Nothing really changed over the next few weeks as Loki continued to observe Stark and plot how to fix this mess. The press conferences still happened, Stark completed the leg braces, his company's stock gradually went back up with the release of the new StarkWatch. However, more and more, Loki could see something shift in the engineer and knew that soon, something would give.
It happened during a rain storm.
Stark stood on the roof of the newly re-renamed Stark Tower as the rain poured down, clad in his fitted black-on-black suit. The only spot of color was his blood red tie.
The rain was forcing the gelled spikes flat and lightning flashed and thunder roared around the mortal who stood in the maelstrom as if he were the epicenter.
Loki stood invisible once more, facing the mortal from across the roof in the shelter of the door. He watched as the mortal, eyes shut, tipped his head back. His hands slowly raised from his sides, palms turned outward in a seeming orison.
Lightning flashed and Loki's breath caught as the man in front of him was transformed into an elemental creature of storms and chaos in the all-too-brief moment the world was washed in white and silver. As deafening thunder cracked, Stark exhaled deeply and dropped his hands. Loki watched his eyes slide open, still turned skywards.
His eyes flashed as he lowered his head and looked straight at where Loki stood.
"If you're here to kill me, Reindeer Games, I'd suggest you reconsider."
The turrets raised and rows upon rows of weapons centered right on Loki. "Impressive," he raised an eyebrow while he dropped his invisibility. "However did you know?" He asked lightly as he strolled forwards with his hands in the pockets of the long coat he wore over his own three-piece suit.
"Please," Stark scoffed, "as if I wouldn't have increased my security measures."
"In light of recent events?" Loki fished, tone still light.
"Among other things," was Stark's response.
Loki stopper a few feet in front of him, impervious to the rain falling on the other as his own magic shielded him from the downpour. There was silence between the two as they took the measure of the other after so long a time since their last meeting.
"Look. At. Us," Stark nearly hummed. "Two fallen princes standing in the rain. I feel like there should be a joke here somewhere."
A corner of Loki's mouth twitched up involuntarily into a mirthless smirk. "The Norns are certainly laughing."
Stark's lips mimicked his before he turned a rather unwise quarter turn away from Loki to look out over the city. "Time was," he began, "I could send an entire crowd to the floor with a gesture and they would love it. I could command silence without a single word.
"I ruled this world and they didn't even notice."
Stark was smoldering at the end, his hands clasped behind his back. Loki glanced sideways at him as he too turned towards the city. "What an ego you have," he murmured.
Stark tilted his head. "Hm, you know, that was Their line whenever--well, whenever, really. But is it really ego if I have video evidence proving I'm right? Nevertheless, that's not why you're here. You're here because Thanos."
Loki flinched at the name falling unexpectedly from the mortal's lips. He bit back the confused flood of questions that wanted to stutter their way out of his mouth. "How do you know that name?" He grated out dangerously.
"Oh I know a lot of things I'm not supposed to know," Stark said airily. He continued as Loki suppressed the urge to draw a dagger and end his miserable existence, "But what concerns you," he paused, " is how your little dream team fell apart. That was the plan, right? Take that rag tag group of individuals , get them together in one place, unite them against a common foe, have them bond. Instant recipe for a super secret boy band; incidentally, Fury had the same idea. Except you had one specific enemy in mind when you made the plan."
"Yes," Loki drawled with a sarcastic lilt that gradually gave way to fury, "so much good it did, when I came back and lo, the team," he sneered, "had splintered over- what was the excuse?- philosophical differences. And just in time for the Mad Titan to start making his move!"
"Perhaps you should have kept a better eye on your project instead of playing 'possum," Stark suggested before he was levered off his feet by way of Loki's hand on his neck. "Wow," he choked out, "this looks incredibly familiar. Too bad the windows are a floor down, eh Lokes?"
Loki snarled but was blasted back by a repulsor strike to the chest before he could say anything.
"I'll thank you not to lay hand on me if you want this alliance to work; I'm rather over the whole 'team punching bag' thing." Stark staggered as he regained his balance and rubbed his throat while his gauntleted left hand stayed steady on Loki's center mass and the turret guns made readying sounds.
"And just why would I ally with you?" Loki snarled.
"You're here. And you haven't killed me. Instead you've been stalking me for weeks--months. You're here," he repeated, "and you're talking to me." Stark stood straight and dropped his right hand. A moment later the left followed.
"And you think yourself valuable?" Loki straightened as well, tugging his vest back into place crisply.
Stark smirked. "I was known as the Merchant of Death for a reason. I built my first suit in a cave with scraps, hooked up to a car battery. My weapons could, with the press of one button, level an entire mountain range. I created a murder-bot that tried to end the world without even trying-- though granted, I can't take sole credit for that little piece of work."
"And yet," Loki pointed out, "all you seem to have been doing the past few years has been chasing your own tail."
Stark nodded. "True. Very true. I'll admit: I got a bit distracted. I forgot just who I was. Forgot the essential truth that I'm no hero."
"And just who are you?"
"I'm Tony Fucking Stark, the Merchant of Death, and I think it's about time I reclaim my throne and make people remember that."