Chapter Text
Started screaming: "Is there someone out there?"
Please, help me!
Come get me!
-Alan Walker, K-391, & Emelie Hollow "Lily"
"I'm sorry, what?" Tony looks up from the hologram in his hands to Thor, eyebrows lifted; his voice pitched with disbelief. The frustration and surprise spinning through him add to the high mixture of emotions clear and readily displayed across the words to easily be read. Thor fidgets, his expression morphing into that of someone who would love to be anywhere but here.
His lips thin tightly and it looks like it takes him a great deal of effort to split them apart. "It's not by my choice." Thor says a moment later, his voice is strangely defensive when there's no reason for it to be.
"Obviously." Tony agrees, tone dry. Honestly he'd be surprised if it was. He releases the hologram into Jarvis's systems and turns to look at the Asgardian properly. Thor is leaning against another one of the desks in the room, arms folded across his chest and flexing his right hand's fingers in and out. The agitation is stark.
Tony presses his lips together lightly.
Thor isn't a person who usually lets his unhappy emotions play this widely with his expressions and stance, usually if he is upset, it isn't this...visible. This is more pressing than Thor's revealing—despite the very small and limited amount of information Tony has learned. Thor tilts his head back slightly and his fists clench, the anxious flexing finally quelled.
"Your presence has been demanded on Asgard." Thor repeats and Tony mentally backtracks at his words.
Thor entered his workshop close to ten minutes ago—but was quiet, unusual, but not alien. Tony hadn't thought on it much; over the last five years Tony's known him, he's come to know that Thor is sometimes a seclusive creature. He'll seek out company but doesn't actually want interaction. Tony respects it. He can still talk to him—Thor is still listening—but the contributes the Asgardian makes are brief. Often, in these instances Thor can be seen with one of Steve's sketchbooks in hand, drawing restlessly.
This time was different.
Thor was silent, and though he didn't have any bound paper, he wasn't empty handed. Instead, he was carrying a small satchel on his shoulder. The bag currently rests on the desk Thor is leaning against, but hasn't made any further movement than that.
Thor had remained silent until Tony started poking at his moody stiff silence until Thor had blurted the sentence out. Tony has no reasoning as to a why, who, or what. He's more surprised than he cares to admit about this.
Up to this point, neither Tony or any of the rest of the team have been to Thor's home planet. Honestly, the only information they really have on it is Norse Mythology books (which are, according to Thor: 'the largest collection of fraud on Midgard') and Thor's brief words and art work. It isn't much. Thor does not speak of it. Ever.
Tony stares at his teammate for a long few seconds, but Thor does not look any closer to continuing than he does adopting an elephant. Tony leans back slightly on his stool. "We didn't get arrested, did we?"
He's not certain what they would have to do to get summoned to Asgard like this, but prison seems like a good bet. Ah, nuts, Pepper's going to be furious—scratch that Coulson's going to take their heads and mount them on a wall. The recently elected director of S.H.I.E.L.D. has worked tooth and nail to get them out of the mess Steve made with the Helicarriers. Now that they're back to answering from S.H.I.E.L.D., the U.N. has backed off their case and Coulson has threatened them with few words on what will happen should another disaster like that arise again.
Thor looks mildly surprised, as if the thought honestly hadn't occurred to him before now. Tony bites at wash of mild relief as it hits him; just because they aren't getting arrested doesn't necessary mean something of an equal calamity didn't happen.
"No," Thor assures, but the amusement Tony is expecting is absent. Tony allows the skepticism to show on his face. At it, Thor sighs and with what looks like effort peels himself away from the desk. He grabs the bag and flips the top open revealing thick embroidery of something that looks close to a golden organ pipes spread out in a tight circle. It takes Tony a little longer than he cares to admit for him to realize it's Asgard's crest.
Thor pulls out a letter wrapped with a thin brown strand of leather. It's yellowing, but Tony doubts it's from age. Thor sets the bag back down then drags himself across the room to hold it out to Tony. The distaste directed at the paper from the Asgardian is unprecedented.
Tony flicks his gaze up to Thor's blank face before taking the paper. It's thicker than he's used to and has the texture of a paint canvas. He slides the string off and flips it open. In a thick, almost unreadable scrawl is his name: Anthony Edward Stark followed by a greeting he doesn't understand.
He has no idea when they learned his full name. Secrets aren't kept between the team, so Thor knows it (he can't recall when he shared it nor the context, but he knows that Thor does know it because he is as aware of the prince's), but how the Asgardians learned it is beyond him. He's not certain he wants to find out, admittedly.
Tony forces his eyes to move beyond the unsettling text to the following paragraphs:
We welcome your presence in our great city for the celebration of one-hundred and seventy five years of peace between the Nine. A celebration to be noted in the history books as a record unknown to us all. We would deeply appreciate your presence in Serenity.
No weapons will be allowed and we encourage you to pack accordingly, however, for the week long celebration. We happily invite you to bring your own token of jubilance. May we continue to prosper with the reign of our good and just king, Odin. Long live the king! May peace prosper!
There's no signature, but rather wax sealed with some sort of strange bird symbol. Tony glances up at Thor, confused. Unless he's been granted immortality along with a large part of the population and none of them noticed, he's fairly certain Asgardians can't tell time.
"...It's been five." He states tonelessly, flicking the letter up so Thor has context to it.
Barely.
It's barely been five; closer to four and eleven (maybe) months since the Attack on New York. That is not over a hundred—it's not even fifty. They had a day of mourning for the lost a year after the attack, but beyond that there has been little recognition that the date has passed.
It is not over a hundred.
Thor's lips stretch into something that's supposed to be happy, but it's bitter. "On Earth, yes," he agrees. Tony stares at him until Thor elaborates: "Time passes at different speeds depending on where you stand in the Nine. The amount fluctuates; most often it's faster here than Asgard, but that changed around the time I first arrived on Earth. By the end of this year, Earth's rotation will once again surpass Asgard for the next hundred years."
That is...confusing. Tony hadn't really thought about time for Asgardians before, but he's less surprised than he thinks is proper. Admittedly, after hearing Thor's scarce tales from his home planet he's long since decided that their motto is something along the lines of this: "if we can make it complicated—we will."
Tony flicks his gaze down to the invitation again then looks up at the blond. "Okay." He agrees.
Wait.
One hundred and seventy five?
Thor makes lapses of a few months to his planet once a year, but since the Hydra incident, he's spent most of it here. Tony had no idea he was losing decades. That's insane. Why would he spend so much time here knowing that such time was slipping between his fingers on his home planet?
Tony presses his lips together, deciding better than to prod at the moment and flicks his gaze back to the paper, looking for Thor's dramatic declaration through the scribbles. He doesn't find anything. There isn't anything even remotely hinting at "demanded".
"This looks like an invitation to me, not a command." Tony says and rests the piece of paper on his desk then looks up for an explanation.
Thor pinches the bridge of his nose; agitated and low on patience. "It's not." He promises.
"I think you should teach me Asgardian English, then;" Tony counters folding his arms across his chest. His wedding ring digs into his bicep, but he can't bring himself to focus on it.
His teammate runs a hand through his recently cut hair and his fingers flex in anxiety again. "My father cannot outright demand your presence, it would be humiliating to my Realm for you to have to be forced there. The team is one of the reasons this was even possible and we can't ignore that." The words, well praising, do not leave Thor's lips jubilantly.
Tony feels a frown begin to clasp the edges of his mouth.
"But?" He presses.
"It's been demanded all the same." Thor explains and swings his hands in agitation before slamming a finger down on the beginning of the letter where Tony's full name is. "They've listed your full name; you are required to come."
Since when?
Asgardian's list full names when they mean that?
He has very little idea of Asgardian customs, but this one seems a little weird.
Tony glances back at the letter, strangely offended. They went to all the work to learn his full name to threaten him? That was rude.
Tony stares at his teammate. Yes, they have been demanded to come, but honestly? It doesn't sound as terrible as Thor seems to be presenting it as. They just have to go to Asgard for a few hours, pop in to say "hi" and then leave? How bad can it get? Someone doesn't return their wave? Thor is one of the most decent people he knows and, sans his brother, the rest of Asgard can't be much different. The whole "it takes a village to raise a child" thing.
Tony leans back against the rim of the desk and resists the urge to pick up one of the various tools on his desk and fiddle with it. "Why don't you want us to go?" If they aren't going to be arrested and he has doubts they'll be in any life-stopping danger at a party, he has no idea the reasoning behind Thor's aversion to this.
Thor opens his mouth to blurt something, then bites his tongue and says instead: "It's not that."
Doubtful.
Tony lifts an eyebrow.
"It's not." Thor insists.
He releases a breath through his nose. "Then what is?"
Thor hisses through his teeth. Tony has rarely seen him this anxious. It's almost unnerving. The distress seems to roll off him in violent waves, and it doesn't recede.
"Thor." Tony pushes.
Thor reels slightly and runs another hand through his scalp. "It's just that—I do not want to go."
Tony feels his eyes widen with surprise. Thor is ninety-three percent an extrovert (and the remaining seven is a killer on his introversion days) and jumps at a chance to spend time with people. He rarely misses an opportunity to do so. What is so different from this? Shouldn't he be excited? One hundred and seventy five years is an achievement.
"What? Why?" Tony asks.
Thor's expression looks strangely helpless for a moment, reminding Tony abruptly that despite his Asgardian years, he's only in his twenties. "It is nothing I wish to discuss."
"It's something I want to." Tony counters and Thor's teeth latch together forcing him to realize it's a lost cause. If Thor decides he's not going to speak on something, nothing save an unstoppable force is going to take it from him. Tony bites at his tongue.
Thor glances back at the bag on the desk and gives an infinitesimal sigh. "I need to deliver the rest of those." He probably would have been happier after being told all his puppies (which he doesn't have) all gave up the ghost.
Thor moves across the room and grabs the satchel grasping the handle to lift it. "Thank you for your time, Tony, I am sorry for any inconvenience this may cause you. Be prepared to leave before sunset tonight."
Whoa. Okay, wait.
Tonight?
That's much sooner than he was expecting. A week notice would have been nice—or even maybe a two day one. Sunset? That's in...maybe four hours. How long did the card say they were staying? A week? Who celebrates something for a week? The most Tony can last is a few hours before he's bored out of his mind.
Tony's mind snaps back into the present at footsteps. Thor moves towards the door, but his hand stills then hovers over the knob at Tony's called, but blurted question: "Are you allowed to bring Jane?"
Tony can't see his expression, but doesn't imagine it's pleasant judging from the tone. "No. The All-Father does not approve of her. The only people I am permitted to bring with me is the five of you."
Oh. But Thor loves Jane. That's rude. Tony flicks his gaze up from the letter to ask some more questions, but when his gaze settles upwards, Thor is gone.
000o000
It's roughly six hours later when Tony walks into the communal room, luggage in hand. He'd spent the last hour or so calling the board, Pepper, and Coulson to let them know where they'll be for the next few days(?). After that was one of the most frantic packing jobs he's done to date. How people can normally wait until an hour before hand is beyond him. He much prefers being over prepared than not certain that he got everything—which to be frank, he still doesn't know. What are you supposed to bring to a leave-your-planet-getaway? Especially when said getaway is a celebration/party?
Thor never talks about Asgard.
Tony doesn't know what would be acceptable. He doesn't know if it would be rude to wear a specific color in front of royalty, if doing a gesture can get you thrown in prison—small little details that he likes to be aware of.
Tony drops his bag onto the floor with the rest of his teams then looks up. Because of the summer months, the sun is perched happily in the late afternoon sky making it appear to be around noon despite the late hour. It doesn't look like seven in the night.
Steve is sitting on one of the couches cross legged, sketchbook on his legs. He's obviously been here for awhile which—overachiever—is probably why his fingers are so dark with pencil smears. Natasha is standing next to Clint, both of them conversing quietly. Bruce is a few feet from the two, looking out of place and unsure as he repeatedly fiddles with his blue tie. Thor is absent—and Tony can't say he's awfully surprised at this fact.
Tony hasn't seen any of the team until now, but there was a brief conversation over text between the five of them discussing this (save Thor). They're all as uncertain about it as he is. He wasn't expecting this to happen; like at all, they weren't required to join in Loki's trial, so why would they have to be in attendance for a stupid party? Does it honestly matter this much to the Asgardians that they're present? Thor seems like he's being dragged through rose bushes with bare feet.
"Bruce," Natasha says suddenly and Tony flicks his gaze to the man in question. The redhead's voice was soft, but since it's above the previous silence it's akin to yelling. Bruce whips his head up to her, query in his expression. Natasha lifts her hands up and gestures to her neck making a slight fidgeting motion with them, "Stop touching it."
Bruce's hands still on the cloth as if he's been caught with a redhanded with a murder weapon. "Ah," he says, then bites his tongue, "it looks stupid."
"You look fine." Tony assures. If a little weird. Bruce is one for polos, but he rarely dons a two-piece suit unless it's required or he's been roped into it. The dark gray fabric easily blends together, but because it's Bruce wearing it...it's just weird. Frankly, though, he's not sure if any of them don't feel awkward. They're all dressed formally, but it isn't to the (sometimes) ludicrous standards Thor returns with—really, who needs that much armor?
Bruce offers a huff in response.
Clint lightly nudges the scientist with his elbow, "It's only for a few days" He reminds. A few long Asgardian days of trying not to feel like an idiot and failing anyway. Whoo. Thrilling. Tony's jumping for joy in the prospect of this. He bites on his tongue to hold back his rousing show of pessimism.
Steve turns on the couch, opening his mouth to say something, but never gets a chance. Instead, Thor enters the room dressed in his usual battle propaganda and his hair swept back and combed. Compared to the spiky mess he's been modeling recently, it looks odd. Clean.
Thor pauses, gaining their stares. He rocks on his feet, fidgeting uncomfortably, "Are you prepared to leave?" He asks. He sounds admittedly hopeful that they aren't. Tony's lips thin with this realization.
He has never seen Thor more reluctant to do anything, honestly, if Tony didn't know better he'd say his teammate was being dragged off to his execution. What is wrong?
"Yeah, I think so." Steve assures, then tilts his head slightly, apparently spotting the same thing that Tony has and shares a quick glance with him. "...Are you?"
Thor blinks, pauses as if re-focusing to the present and then turns to look at the super soldier. He looks exhausted, worn through and beyond ready for the day to end so he can climb under a pile of blankets and not move for several hours. Instead of admitting this, Thor simply clenches his fists next to his side and inclines his head. "Yes, of course."
Really? Because it doesn't really look like that. All evidence points contrary. Nonetheless.
Thor closes his eyes and release a breath before moving forward, "Come, Heimdall is waiting." Heimdall—he actually knows that name. He's a glorified butler or some sort of gatekeeping-watcher-man from what Tony's managed to put together.
He's long since learned to stop trusting Norse mythology since Agent Hill walked up to Thor and demanded to know if he was married to at least three different women. It had, unfortunately, been in the cafeteria and Thor had snorted the water he was drinking up his nose and stared at the agent in all seriousness asking what the names of his wives were. He'd spent the next ten minutes debunking any myths she told him off, laughing to the point he couldn't breathe (no, the goddess of the dead actually exist, no his father did not trade his eye for wisdom, his mother have the gift of prophecy or he himself married). So yeah, Tony's long since accepted that the person who wrote down the myths was probably drunk.
Tony shifts forward with the rest of his team and takes his pack from off the ground, swinging it across his shoulders and pats down his pocket to make sure his phone is still present before trekking after Thor. The Asgardian leads them up the stairs and to the landing pad where the Quinjet usually parked is absent (maintenance, they recently went on a mission to disassemble a HYDRA base and their canons got a few good shots in). The stone was white when the tower was first finished, but has been burned, charred, and branded from the Bifrost and the Quinjet. No amount of scrubbing is going to remove it; it used to bother him, but after so much time with it present, he'd doesn't think he could stand if it went missing.
Thor comes to a halt towards the outer edge of the burn mark from the Bifrost and the rest of them scramble into the remaining space. "You are all prepared for a week?" Thor questions. Tony makes a hum of agreement and the rest of the team makes noises of assurance.
Thor nods and digs his fingernails into his palms before flipping his head up towards the sky, "Good. Heimdall, open the Bifrost!"
The ground is ripped from his feet and his stomach lurches, the urge to fall forward claiming him for half a second before he's torn upwards through the sky. A quiet noise is lost in his throat at the high speed colors swirling past him. He's seen the Bifrost deliver and take Thor dozens of times, but it's different in person. Faster. Brighter. Louder. Honestly, it's deafening, blistering into his ears like the phosphorescent is attempting to burn his earlobes shut. Worlds blur past his vision, open space half a step behind, but it's impossible to focus on anything.
The journey itself doesn't last more than thirty seconds tops, but it feels like milliseconds and years simultaneously.
Tony's feet hit the ground and he stumbles forward, barely managing to regain his footing before he slams flat onto his face. Neither of the rest of his teammates fair much better than himself other than Thor. He lands with perfect ease like a ballerina landing a leap. It's ridiculous and Tony quietly envies his grace.
The room they've stumbled into is large, circular with a golden ceiling and walls make out of gears. It looks like some sort rich clocktower, sans a clock. Behind a large dais in the center is the glistening golden city in the distance, a palace clearly visible overreaching the smaller buildings, save the floating ones (floating), but to connect to the clocktower a large brightly colored bridge stretching between the two pieces of land.
It's impressive.
And big.
Very big.
"Welcome home, my prince." Tony flicks his gaze back to the dais, startled at the sudden deep voice. He'd missed it his first glance, but there's a man perched on the top of the stairs, gripping the hilt of a sword covered in panoply that could rival Thor's. A stupid, frankly ridiculously viking-like hat is present on the top of his head and wow suddenly Loki's goat horns seem fashionable. Okay, not to self: Asgard does not have hat fashion sense.
"Thank you Heimdall," Thor address curtly and turns to glance back at them. Tony forces his footing to settle and quietly begs the lurching in his stomach to stop. Heimdall turns his gaze from Thor to them and Tony suddenly feels largely uncomfortable. Heimdall's deep yellow eyes seem to dig through his soul parsing through what remains there and is displeased with what he finds. It makes him want to put his arms in front of his chest defensively, but he's pretty certain it wouldn't help anything.
"Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Clint Barton, Bruce Banner, Natasha Romanov, welcome to Asgard." Heimdall says and gives a slight dip of his head of respect and turns his head towards the doorway. Apparently, whatever test they were undergoing they passed. Tony wants to say something in return, but he's not exactly sure what would be acceptable.
Instead he settles for a small, awkward wave as they scramble after Thor.
The Asgardian prince slips from the clocktower-thing to the glittery bridge. Thor stops abruptly, causing the rest of them to scramble over the edges of their shoes to not smack into his back, a man appearing to materialize out of seemingly nowhere. He's taller than Thor by a good few inches, bulky, and covered in light armor with a bow and arrow strapped across his chest. Fiery red hair is tucked back, a thin shade of facial hair covering around his lips and mouth.
Natasha's hand goes to her hip where a small dagger is hidden in the frays of her dress, but Steve lifts a slight hand to halt her. This isn't their turf, they can't determine what needs to be leaped at and what does not here. They are fish attempting to swim up a tree. It's unpleasant.
The man's hand is resting on his hip and he raises a thick red eyebrow towards Thor. "You're late."
"Sorry," Thor stumbles out, "preparations took longer than I expected." No, he was stalling so he wouldn't have to come back here for reasons that they are still oblivious to. Thor turns back to them, looking strangely desperate, "Avengers, this is Ullr; he is the captain of my guard."
Thor has a guard?
He's prince, Tony, you idiot, what else were you expecting?
...Not that?
"Ullr, this is the Avengers."
Captain Ullr's eyebrows lift slightly and he tilts his head, gaze sweeping across them. His lip curls slightly. "Yes, I assumed so." The way he states it says his opinion of them clearly, which is nothing along the realms of impressed. Disgust or them somehow being lesser would be more accurate.
Tony flicks his gaze to the right as he sees another figure move and sees three others waiting next to five horses. One of the three is leading a deep gray horse forward with a thick, wild black mane is braided in a few areas.
The man comes to a halt with the reins outstretched to Thor, who takes them without reluctance, resting a hand against the horses muzzle. "Victory has been restless with your presence lacking, my prince." The man says.
Thor smiles faintly, "Thank you, Tolk."
"Should we be on our way then?" Captain Ullr asks, gesturing towards the horses and the palace awaiting in the distance. "Your father is waiting."
If Tony hadn't known Thor as well as he does, he would have missed the shoulder slump completely. As it is, he notes it and narrows his eyes slightly.
"I think I would prefer to walk," Thor says and glances back at them once more. "This is their first time in Asgard; there is much to see."
Captain Ullr's eyes narrow slightly, but he nods, "Indeed."
Thor mimics the head movement, but Tony sees slightly relief in his stance. Thor adjusts the grip on his horse's reins before leading them forward into the city.
The first thing that Tony really processes about Asgard is that it's bright—towering tips of twinkling gold shower everything, causing the light from the two suns to reflect and make it brighter. No area appears to be somber, but graced in beauty and craftsmanship unknown to Earth. The buildings in the city are simply breathtaking, and it sort of feels like they've taken a step back in time to Greece.
It's amazing.
Tony does, however, feel immediately awkward compared to the other people among them. They're all dressed in formal attire: elaborate dresses, weird but fancy tunics, and capes. Capes are everywhere. Tony has never been fond of capes, his version is wrapping a blanket around his shoulders and walking around somewhere, so he doesn't understand the fashion trend. There are people that he can see are natives by their hair and clothing style, but there are also others that he knows have to have come from somewhere else.
It's sort of like stepping into Lord of the Rings, but in Asgard. Dwarves are wondering around, laughing and violently speaking in a dialect that Tony can't understand. There are elves and other weird-looking people wandering around. He's fairly certain that he spotted someone growing horns like Maleficent and though he's surprised, it just adds to the overwhelming need to gawk at everything.
Asgard is much different than he was expecting.
More advanced.
For some reason he'd sort of been expecting to walk onto Asgard there to be random huts in a large valley with rainbow bridges linking between things and unicorns running around as women fly pegasus' and men run around shouting and throw things. Instead, it's a beautiful world, for certain, (towering mountain ranges in the distance and the stars in the distance are breathtaking) but it's much more...science based.
Tony presses his lips together tightly and keeps up with Thor's rapid pace, attempting to not lose the Asgardian. His team seems to be just as amazed and struggling to not stop and stare as he is. Thor moves rapidly through the city, his presence—along with his guard—seem to part the sea of people with ease. Some of them toss out greetings in a language that Tony can't place, or give respective small bows.
It's a stark reminder that despite how...normal and citizen-like Thor is on Earth, he is, in fact, the crown prince of another world. And not one looked down upon, at that.
They reach the palace in about thirty minutes and Tony is immediately graced with the realization as they step into the courtyard that the golden building is much bigger in person than it looked from a distance. Not to say that it looked miniature from afar—quite the contrary—but still, it's large. Perfectly sculpted without a single scratch on it, smooth metal rising up towards the sky. It's breathtaking, just like the rest of the city.
And Thor happily stares out at their messy, dirty buildings with awe.
This is very different from Earth.
Admittedly, he's not quite certain how he feels about this.
The courtyard isn't empty. People are rushing here and there carrying things from once place to another, most of them in a similar colored wardrobe (red, cream, gold and sometimes deep green). A type of uniform, maybe?
Thor hands his horses' reins to the youngest man in his guard—Tolk, was it?—and he quickly slips off to the northern part of the expansive courtyard where Tony can see a towering stable in the distance. Towards their left is a large fence that looks like it could be from a horror movie. Twisted, thorny plants sculpt up the metal and blossom a grayish-brown flower that could be a cross between a daisy and a rose. Frankly, Tony thinks they're rather ugly. The wall takes up a large part of the further part of the courtyard and extends for some time. Off to their right is training grounds where men are being yelled at and swinging weapons around that are buzzing.
Buzzing.
Electricity?
It doesn't quite look like that. Magic, then?
"I apologize," Thor says and looks back at them, his lips thinned and expression a carefully constructed mask. Tony flicks his gaze up with surprise at the sound of his voice; thus far in their great journey across Asgard, he hasn't said much. Just greetings back to those who spoke to him and a few quick words with Captain Ullr. His voice sounds tight, "we don't have time for the questions I know you must have. Perhaps later."
They better have time for later.
Tony wants to take everything that's floating around them and tear it apart to see how it works, internalize the technology then move onto the next object. This is amazing.
"Mmm, yes," Captain Ullr says, "we best remove these...Avengers from our party. You have much to attend to, my prince. You're...ah, what do we call it? Vacation time? Yes, it hasn't exactly put a dent in your duties."
Thor's fists clench.
Tony's stomach squirms uncomfortably. He never really thought about what Thor was giving up to help them. It didn't seem important. Thor never spoke about it—but that doesn't mean that's an adequate excuse, Thor is his teammate, if he's giving something up like this (crown prince, his mind reminds, crown prince) to help them whack Dr. Doom over the head every other Thursday or whatever other idiot decided that they needed to smack down Manhattan that week they should have known.
He shares an anxious glance with Bruce, quietly relieved he doesn't appear to be the only one unsettled here.
Why didn't Thor say anything?
"I would like to help them find their rooms—" Thor starts to explain, but his words are hesitant and sound strangely jumbled, as if he's not certain what he's saying will be well received. It's not a habit that Tony's seen him use much. Thor's baritone is usually confidant and laced with laughter; this is devoid of such characteristics.
"Prince Thor," Captain Ullr sighs, "please, the King is waiting for us."
Thor's chin tilts up slightly, a turbulence of emotions crossing over his features before he appears to slump with defeat. He releases a breath and turns to look at them, "Yes, you are right; forgive me, Avengers."
'Avengers'?
Really?
They're at that now?
Tony can't remember the last time that that Thor referred to them as that. Years, probably, if ever. They've always just been "friends" or something else along those lines. Nothing this formal. Ever. Why would he, they're...friends. Just, apparently not here. Tony can't say this leaves him with the most happy butterfly feelings.
Thor turns and waves them after him, moving towards the entrance of the palace. Tony rocks on his feet for a second, suddenly wary, but moves after his teammate. Thor leads them into the palace to a grand entry hall that is working pretty hard to make stone show a reflection from the cleanliness.
They take a few steps into the building before a young man walks towards them, expression collected, calm. "Greetings, my lord," he says, but Thor appears to wind tighter at his presence. How far can he go before he snaps altogether? What is it about Asgard that makes him so anxious? "Your mother sends her apologies that she couldn't be here to see your return."
"Yes," Thor murmurs, but his voice is barely above a quiet sigh. He turns back to them, his gaze flicking briefly to Ullr once more before grasping Steve's—who is the closest—shoulder, "this is Akeh, he can show you to your accommodations, I'll try to stop by later."
Natasha's shaking her head, and Tony turns to her for an explanation. "No; we can wait, Thor. Do you have to visit your father alone?"
Thor gives a shake of his head, but his gaze is tinted with confusion.
"Good," Natasha says, "can we join you, then?"
Thor's stance visibly releases strain at the suggestion, and he appears to leap onto it with both hands and refuse to let go, even as Captain Ullr makes a noise in the back of his throat that can't be anything but disapproval.
"Yes," Thor agrees, "yes, you can." He releases Steve's shoulder and sweeps his gaze across them, appearing to gather himself. He nods once to himself before waving a hand for them to follow, "Come, we shouldn't keep my father waiting."