Chapter Text
Disclaimer: I do not own or claim to own any of the characters used or referenced to in this piece of non-profit fan-fiction. I am merely using them for my entertainment (and hopefully the entertainment of others).
“You think to run from me when you knowest mine name to be Odinson?!”
So, today hadn’t been one of his best...
“You may think that beguiled suit of enchanted armour impervious to mine strength...”
It’d started out as a fairly normal Tuesday; he’d finally balanced an equation that had Bruce close to ‘Hulking’ out, Bucky had joined the team for breakfast, hell, he’d even attempted to talk to someone besides Steve or Sam and Clint was visiting which always lightened the mood. Then the assembly alarm had rang and Friday fired up the various tech they’d need to haul-ass all the way to Gutulia National Park in fucking Norway...
“... but I can assure thee, knight, that not even the Jotnar of Jotunhiem can withstand the might of Thor!”
Which, of course, wasn’t a bad thing; he had it on good authority that Spring time in that part of the world was a beautiful thing to witness and, until the Enchantress had reared her bunny-boiler head, it had been a smooth, arc-reactor enhanced flight with some awesome views...
“Have at thee!”
However, getting sent through a worm-hole into the past, his armoured body smashing into a table loaded to the brim with food and fancy gold-trinkets, not so awesome... Especially since that table happened to be resting before a throne coated with animal pelts, ivory and an extremely pissed off Thunder God who looked as though he’d been plucked right out of Victoria’s Secret’s Viking Edition...
“Thor! For fuck’s sake! Will you put down the axe and listen to me?”
Tony had barely enough time to blink, let alone think straight as the man who was a younger, longer-haired version of his friend snarled, brushed the food-stuffs that’d dared to touch his neo-classic armour off, stood and grabbed the biggest, shiniest axe the inventor had ever seen. Then, not so much as making a demand or threat, the blonde alpha had roared, the tranquil Spring sky swirling instantaneously with a maelstrom the likes of which the omega had never seen before.
If the sudden screaming and fleeing by the local Renaissance-fair yokels was anything to go by, their tunics, long skirts, braided hair and beards whipping in the yowling winds, they hadn’t either...
“You darest to address me in such a familiar manner you wretch?!”
And now, here he was, tearing through the dense forest, his lithe frame only dodging the multiple lightning strikes thanks to his operational systems being able to map the weather patterns churning the sky. Admittedly not having any satellites to hook up with wasn’t helping but he would gladly accept Steve’s ‘I told you so’ when he found a way back home; if he hadn’t spent all of those training sessions sparring with Thor in his suit then he’d probably be a Tony shaped hole in the tree-line by now...
“Wretch or not, we need to talk, alright? Aren’t you even remotely interested as to why I dropped out of the sky and ruined your lunch?” he called through his external speakers as he narrowly avoided the massive axe which somehow boomeranged back towards him.
“Ugh! And what the hell is with this flying health hazard anyway? You send Mjolnir to the cleaner’s or something?”
This, apparently, hadn’t been the best thing to say as, with a roar which seemed to shake the sky, Thor launched himself at the suit and knocked them both into the forest; their bodies tumbled in a mass of limbs, metal and a crimson cape until, somehow prying himself free, the Asgardian leapt to his feet.
Still fighting the dizziness that’d plagued him from the moment Amora had cast him through the vortex she’d, in all likeliness, created for herself to use (he may have, possibly, maybe gotten in her way to prevent whatever it was she’d been trying to accomplish), Tony struggled not to vomit as he wrenched himself to a halt.
He didn’t even manage to stand before, to his mounting horror, he was slammed back into the ground on his back, his visuals displaying the snarling face of a muddied and enraged Thor: “this language that you speak sounds odd to me and, whilst I must commend which ever dwarf crafted your strange armour I will tell you plainly” he growled, a meaty hand clenching at the suit’s neck-joints. “You will answer every question I give thee and you will answer in honesty or my wrath shall fall upon you; doust you understand?”
Huffing, Tony mumbled an annoyed “you bet-cha, blondie” before he was hoisted up by the scowling warrior who crossed his arms across his broad, woodland-smudged chest and glowered, the storm sub-siding slightly.
“From where do you hail?”
“Earth... err, I mean... Midgard... I...”
“You lie!” the blonde roared, a bout of thunder crashing, his right hand raising to call the axe back to it with a snarl.
“No! No, no, no... here, look, see?” Tony stammered, his face-plate snapping up to reveal startled amber eyes. “No other realm has omegas, right? I remember you telling me that once...”
The alpha blinked, his startled blue eyes narrowing whilst his arm lowered... along with his jaw.
“You’re an omega...” he said slowly, that keen gaze following every line and curve of the armour as Tony straightened his stance and let out a breath of relief; it wasn’t as though he couldn’t defend himself but he figured having to uni-beam the guy who could get him back to the present the fastest wasn’t the best idea.
“Yeah, so, now we’ve got that cleared up, let’s get to the specifics... Hi, I’m Tony... and I probably shouldn’t say too much because of the whole space-time-continuum thing... ugh... if only Bruce was here, he’d... hey, you okay there?” he paused, his eyes widening when he realised the Asgardian had entered his personal space.
“You’re an omega” the blonde repeated, his nostrils flaring slightly. “Long have I wanted to experience an omega... you have been sent by Balder? Fandral perhaps?”
“Um... I...”
“Ah, it matters not; shed this protective cocoon and kneel before me... I wish to see my gift before sampling it” the smug looking male declared haughtily, his smirk positively wolfish as Tony struggled to process exactly what had just been said to him. It took exactly 5.3 seconds before his face-plate snapped back and he took a defensive stance, his repulsors whirring dangerously much to the annoyance of the man whose quirked brow and frown made him look all the more petulant.
‘You’re not dealing with your Thor, Tony’ he reminded himself. ‘Remember what a douche has when you fought him and Steve? Well... meet douche-bag version 2.0’ he thought, his arms rising to display the glowing discs to his opponent.
“Okay Thor, I didn’t want to do this but it looks like you’re not leaving me much choice” he stated firmly whilst the alpha muttered something the Allspeak wouldn’t interpret. “So, looks like I’m gonna have to beat some sense into that thick head of yours and Jane can thank me later, alright?”
He really should have flown away when he had the chance...