Chapter Text
Loki entered the gala, handing his invitation to the attendants at the door. It was an illusion, of course, as was his face. He was here for peaceful entertainment tonight. Although who knew how the evening might end. These affairs tended to be quite tedious on the surface, but Loki had centuries of experience finding the hidden emotions underneath: encouraging or exposing cheating spouses, relighting old grudges, and discovering who was eager to feel slighted or insulted and start new rivalries and enmities. Once he was done, this night would be remembered for years.
That it was Stark hosting the affair only made it better. The man was a remarkable enemy to have. He was creative, persistent, and perceptive. Loki kept ahead of him easily enough, but only because he had a millennium's worth of tricks and experience to draw on. Only once had he made the mistake of repeating a gambit against the man. Stark had not only evaded the trap but had almost caught Loki in turn. It was only his superior strength that let Loki escape, and he hated resorting to unplanned brute force.
Loki spotted Stark flirting with a woman near one of the bars, and resolved to avoid the man for the evening. He wanted the night to be memorable but not traceable, and if anyone could recognize a disguised Loki it would be Stark. Instead, Loki began circulating in the other half of the room, picking out potential targets, subtly directing a jealous husband's attention to where his wife flirted with a different man, flattering and encouraging another man who was just drunk enough to listen to insinuations that a rival planned to make a move against him, and more. With all the seeds he would sow this evening, at least a few should come to public words before the night was over, and perhaps to blows if he was lucky. It was an enjoyable past-time, and he made it a challenge by refraining from using any magic beyond his disguised features.
After a while, Loki made his way to a bar. One where Stark was not lingering. He ordered a drink, and glanced around as he waited. His attention was caught by a framed photo on the corner of the bar.
"Who is this?" he asked.
"It's Maria Stark," answered the bartender. "Since the party's in her honor, Mr. Stark likes to have her picture scattered around, rather than just at the central display."
"Very fitting," Loki said. Privately he wondered if the placement at the bar was deliberate. The woman he remembered would have split her time equally between the bar and the dance floor, but it was hard to put a respectful, discrete image on a dance floor.
Although from what he'd seen of Stark, the man would not be worried about subtlety. Perhaps he considered it disrespectful to lay out a giant picture of his mother for people to dance on.
Loki thought back to Maria. She might have drunk too much at parties like this, but she was nearly as good as he was at spotting couples in trouble. While he delighted in exposing fights, she was a romantic who loved to bring people together. He hadn't realized his Maria Stark was also Tony Stark's mother. Since this gala was in her honor, perhaps he would honor her by limiting himself to mischief in the form of romance, and see if he couldn't bring a few couples together. Both unexpected couples, and unexpected ways. He smiled as he took his drink and walked away, leading off his new plan by whispering to a young woman alone that he had noticed the bartender admiring her.
Several hours and many conversations later, Loki went home laughing. He had been so angry these last few years he had forgotten how much chaos could result from bringing lovers together, and how much joy could be taken from bringing joy to others.
One man stormed out with his mistress when his wife openly called him out for dancing with the other woman. A young couple snuck out to find a justice of the peace after being encouraged to disregard their disapproving parents, while another such couple had not been quite so fortunate, and got caught together by an angry father. A very vocally angry father who publicly humiliated the whole group with the scene he caused. An abusive spouse had been exposed (and discretely arrested) after knocking his wife and her dance partner down on in a fight on the dance floor. Loki had not reached his crowning goal of persuading a couple to copulate openly on the dance floor, but by the end of the evening, it was impossible to find an unoccupied private corner, and there were a great many laughs, moans, and evocative noises emanating from them.
And this was just what had come to a head in a single evening. Many more of his seeds would germinate in the coming weeks, spiking marriages, breakups, and makeups among everyone who had attended the gala. This was among the most entertaining evenings he had had since his last visit to earth, when Maria was a young woman. His duties had kept him mostly in Asgard in recent decades, before the events culminating in the Chitauri invasion. And in Asgard, people were too wary of him to allow this kind of easy success. Loki went to bed with a smile still on his lips, and for once, dreamt of happy memories.