Chapter Text
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The clothes were red.
They were the Ceremonial red of Tony’s Family and Company, which was what he was used to and what made this all a little bit easier for him with it's familiarity, but the scattered gold on it’s neck, sleeves and hemline that were Asgard sigils were what made him so nervous.
Tony ran his fingers over it, staring as it was draped over his bed for him to wear. It was longer than most clothes that he wore, almost like a dress, and he supposed that that was the point. It was a marriage after all, he needed to look his ‘best’.
He barely noticed when the servant left the strings on his back untied, didn’t even look up when he heard the door open and close, but he did jerk in surprise when he felt rougher hands clutch at his arms.
“I hate these kind of ceremonies,” He murmured softly, wincing when Howard’s fingers tighten the strings on his back for him, clasping and pulling until he could hardly breathe.
“Well the clothes suit you.” Tony closed his eyes, feeling hot tears of hatred burn behind the lids.
“Don’t,” He said sharply, pulling away when Howard was done and pushing the rest of the robe down over his bare legs, “Don’t try and make this sound better on your own conscience just because - "
“Don’t start this again, Anthony,” Howard sighed, rubbing at his forehead but at least he wasn’t shouting back. At least he wasn’t screaming in Tony’s face like he had the first time Tony'd heard about this.
The first time that Tony had heard about his own marriage.
“We’ve discussed this all far too many times already, and I would really rather you just get ready now, instead of working yourself up again.”
Tony’s chest rose as he struggled to hold back the anger in him but he let it go eventually, because why argue now? This could likely be the last time he'd ever see his father again, and while he hated him right now, he knew he’d regret leaving him like this.
“Well it’s not fair,” He said instead, ignoring how childish he sounded because why shouldn’t he be allowed to act out about this. His fingers continued to run over the silk of his clothes, but they tightened when he remembered what they meant, ”None of this is fair! Just because I have this - 'gene' or something, it doesn’t mean people can just exploit that and -“
“That is not what is happening here.” Howard interrupted him firmly, looking over the bed at the rest of the accessories that the servant had laid out already for them, “I’ve explained that to you.”
“Yeah, and it ends up sounding a lot more like exploiting each time you say it,” Tony turned away from him, reaching for the hairbrush on the bedside table, but his hand strayed past it and he opted for the comb instead.
He felt pressed like a doll already but he’d be damned if he went out looking rumpled and as worn out as he felt, “You’ve told me. All my life you’ve told me. You’ve said to hide this part of myself, to never let anyone use it against me and now you’re the one who's using it against me. And whenever I try to argue about it you turn it all back onto me instead. Like it's all my fault I was born this way,”
The comb caught on the knots in his hair when he yanked down, but when Howard tried to take it from him he refused to let go, “And it’s not fair.”
“Nothing's fair in life, Anthony, you should know that by now,” Howard grabbed the hairbrush when Tony still refused to let go of the comb, and he raked it down over Tony’s hair, smoothing it from where it had risen in his sleep,
“But as a carrier, and as my son, you know how important it is that you do this. With this gene, you can't reproduce unless you're with another male, and with the politics of our country, you know I’d rather not let the company - "
“You’d rather, what about - ow,” Tony pulled away when Howard pressed down harder than necessary on his head, and he took the brush from him to take over.
“There's more at stake here than just your pride Anthony,” Howard glared at him, and Tony sat on the edge of the bed, brushing his hair as he looked down at his lap, “Having an heir is one of the most important things you can do for the company and for me, and with you having been born a Carrier, of all things, it’s almost impossible for you to manage even that,”
Tony closed his eyes at Howard’s bitter disappointment and turned his face away.
“When Nick mentioned his father - Jack’s - archive on inter-dimensional worlds, of course I joined in with all the research. And now, not only have we made contact with them on numerous occasions, but - "
“But we’ve all agreed on a pact, to keep both worlds allied,” Tony finished for him, his voice low and flat, “I know this, you bragged about it constantly to me, I just didn’t think that it’d affect me in the long run.”
“Don’t be dense, Anthony, of course it’d affect you. It affects everyone in one way or another, and this is one of the better circumstances, believe me - "
“How,” Tony stood, letting the brush fall and bounce at his feet on the floor, “is this better?” He ignored Howard’s second sigh at his outburst and continued even when he knew he shouldn’t, “You’re marrying me off Dad! Sending me away like some kind of- ” He cut himself off, running his hands over his face to try and calm himself down, “I didn’t even get a say in any of this, all because you need a precious heir for your company to continue on, like I can’t do that for you!”
“Of course you can, but for how long? I need - "
“You need?” Tony huffed out a bitter-sounding laugh and ducked away when Howard reached for him, “You don’t even care about me at all, do you.”
“Of course I care,” Howard spat out, and the door behind him opened but he didn’t even seem to notice, “You think that I, what, would have just sent you off like this without telling them to at least wait for a few months? I had to know if Thor was true to his word. That he wasn’t lying when he told me that he wasn’t some abusive thug, and that he’d treat you like a person and not a ‘mortal’ or whatever it is they say. I had to check it all out, to make sure that you’d be safe there.”
“Yeah, well thanks a lot,” Tony rolled his eyes, glaring for all that it was worth, “Big help it’ll all be when something happens to me anyway and you’ll be here, on Earth and at home, where you can’t help me!” Tony almost punched him after that, right then and there, but a hand on Howard’s shoulder startled them both. Maria shook her head at Tony’s clenched fist but instead of relaxing, he spun on his heel and walked to the corner of the room.
He sat on the bench-like chair there, uncaring if the clothes that he was wearing creased or wrinkled from his position, and he put his face in his hands. The murmured conversation behind him started off a little heated, but eventually simmered down, and the door clicked shut when Howard stormed out.
“I don’t need a pep talk,” Tony muttered into his hands when he heard Maria come closer.
“Well, that’s good, because I’m not planning on giving you one,” She prod him in the side until he shuffled away and she could sit on the chair as well, sharing it with him and worrying the hairbrush’s handle between her hands, “I heard you both shouting.”
“Dad was shouting, I was talking,” Tony argued, lifting his head from his hands to glare at her when she snorted, “Did Jarvis hear?”
“No,” She glanced once at the door, “Jarvis is in charge of packing for you. He’s convinced you’ll forget something if you do it yourself.”
Tony smiled to himself and he looked up at the mirror in front of him, “I’m gonna miss him,” He murmured only to then jerk back when he felt Maria’s hands on his head, ”Don’t, I can do it myself, ” He said when Maria tugged on his hair with the brush in her hands.
“I know you can. But I want to,” She ignored the rest of his protests and proceeded to carefully and tenderly brush his hair for him, tilting his head for her whenever she needed to, “This may be the last time I ever get to do this for my son so I’d rather I have at least one last go at it.”
And maybe it was because of the slight quiver she had in her voice when she said this, or maybe it was the shaking in her hands when she turned his face, but whatever it was that she’d done, Tony sat up at her words and turned to her; looking into her eyes to see them shining with tears.
He choked, “Mom,” And she hugged him, wrapping her arms around him tight and letting the hairbrush clatter to the floor for a second time today, “Mom, it’s okay.”
But it wasn't. It really wasn't. He was leaving and he was never going to see her again.
Howard, he might, because he’d still be doing research and signing documents, but his own mother? There wasn't any chance of that and he felt sick with how much he was going to miss her.
Maria sniffed, composing herself to quick to be natural and she bent to lift the brush again but Tony kicked it away.
“Leave it, it’s fine. I don’t need it,” She nodded and lightly tapped the top of his head before standing and heading over toward the bed. She reached for the golden headband that had been placed there, to be worn like a crown, and Tony stood when she approached him again but she didn't put it on for him like he expected.
She set it on the table beside them instead and sniffed again, wiping at her eyes, “Your father will be back in a few moments,” She said and he ground his teeth, ready to complain, but she spoke over him before he could, “He’s calming himself down and discussing transport and the like with the other servants, while I’m here with you. But there’s something he needs to do apparently.”
Tony sighed, looking down at the table instead of at his mother, because he knew she’d start crying again soon and if she did, he would too, “Will you be there?” He asked.
“Where?” She took one of his hands into both of hers, “At the wedding? No, I’m - I’m not allowed.”
“No, I know that, I know,” Tony did look at her then and she was crying. He struggled to compose himself when he saw that, just like she'd done only a few moments ago, “I mean, when I leave. Will you be there to say goodbye?”
“Of course I will,” She whispered, curling a finger around a strand of his hair until it bounced up around his eyebrows, “I wouldn’t miss that.”
Tony smiled, genuinely now and this time Maria returned it immediately, “I’ll try to make them let you visit, Mom,” He told her, just as a knock at the door sounded, “I mean they’d have to, sometime, wouldn’t they? You’re my mother,” She smiled at him again, placing a hand on his stomach.
“Maybe when a grandchild is born, I can.” She said and despite it almost physically hurting for him to, Tony tried to nod.
“Yeah. Maybe then.” He forced out, his chest tightening.
The door opened when they didn't answer and Howard stepped back into the room, looking at them both when they turned to him, “Ready?”
Maria nodded, slipping her hand off of Tony’s stomach and walking toward the door. When it shut, silence fell over the room and Tony's hands twitched against the folds of his clothes.
“Mom said you needed to do something,” He said, sitting back down on the chair and staring up at his own reflection. Howard crossed the room to stand behind him and he placed both hands on Tony’s shoulders.
“Give me your wrist,” He said and with a blank face, Tony complied, lifting his arm to let Howard grab it by the elbow and twist it around until he could see his inner wrist, “This might hurt a bit.”
Tony blinked, looking up at him only to twitch at the sharp sting he felt just below his vein. Howard released his arm and he rubbed at the abused skin, staring down at it.
“That was a sensor." Howard explained, "If you, at any point, are in such distress that it affects you physically it will pick up the change in mood. And I will do my best to come to you as soon as I can to see what it is that has happened to you.”
Tony swallowed, meeting Howard's eyes in the mirror, “What if you’re too late?” He asked quietly, pressing two fingers to where the sensor must be hidden inside him.
Howard bent his head at the neck to press a kiss to the top of his head, “No one is going to kill you, Anthony,” He said, his mustache ruffling as he chuckled, “They need you.”
“Story of my life,” Tony muttered which just made Howard smile even more.
"Yes."
It was either now or never he guessed then, as he needed to ask, “If I have this baby, Dad. If I go through with this all, and let that guy fuck me, and use the Carrier gene and everything,” He stopped himself before he rambled and took in a deep breath to slow down, “And then … it turns out to not be a male. Then what?”
Howard pulled away from him, lifting the golden band from the table, “Then you stay there,” He said, clasping the band around Tony’s head until the white pearls on it’s edge dangled over his forehead, “Until you do have one.”
.
Jarvis didn't say anything to him as he left. He just handed him keys to the locks on his bags and offered him a hug. Tony let himself melt into it, let Jarvis hold him like he was five again and like he was just crying from falling over and scraping his knee, and not from anything like this.
When he pulled away, Jarvis's eyes were dry and clear but that alone was telling and he couldn't bring himself to even say the word 'goodbye', but Jarvis nodded like he knew as he gestured that he sit in the car.
The scenery was the same as it was the last time Tony had made this journey, but he stared out the window all the same, the keys held tight in his hands until they cut into his palms. This wasn't the first time he was going to Asgard, and it certainly wasn't the first time he was going dressed in something red.
Ever since Odin had dubbed their family honor and had told them that this was symbolized in this colour, Howard had had dozens of things made in the same shade of red for them to all wear during visits.
But despite his previous visits, Tony's heart thrummed in his throat as the trees raced by, because while he'd been in Asgard before he had only ever met Heimdall and no one else. This time he would be meeting the entire court. He'd meet the royal family for the first time and would meet the man who' was going to be his - his husband, and that alone made him queasy.
Jarvis was sitting beside him and he reached down somewhere for a paper bag which he promptly passed over to let him vomit into. Tony took it but he knew nothing would really come up, though he smiled his gratitude for it all the same.
He received a light pat on his knee in response and he dropped his head onto Jarvis' shoulder, craving his contact so badly that he wanted to stop the car and just sit there while Jarvis rubbed patterns into his arms.
This was not how he wanted his life to go; leaving everything he'd ever loved behind while he lived on an entirely different world than his, only returning once in a while at the request of his father if the company needed him. And then, he supposed, once Howard died as well. Maybe then he'd have a lot more freedom with his life. That was, if Thor let him.
He scowls to himself. Fuck what Thor thinks, he knows nothing about the guy and honestly doesn't want to find out, and if Thor does restrict him Tony will just find another way around. It's what he does. Rules are there for Tony Stark to twist and manipulate until he can get past them and no one can catch him breaking them because they're fixed by the time they check.
Tony's eyes are close to sliding shut when the car rolls to a stop and two doors open on either side. He moans, rubbing his eye and sits up, flicking one of the pearls out of his face with a sigh, "Do I have to wear this?" He asks Jarvis, pointing to the band.
"I'd assume so, Tony, if they thought it prudent to send it down," Is the answer and Tony sighs, flicking one of the pearls until Jarvis lays a hand on his fingers to stop him, "Come on, your parents are waiting."
Tony carefully steps out of the car, hating that the robes cling to him in this heat, but he's used to this type of clothing; tunic-like, though longer than the others he has. Nick Fury meets them at the cordoned off area, in his black suit and tie like always and he actually spares Tony a greeting today and doesn't ignore him like he's usually known to.
Howard and Fury chat away, discussing whatever crap they need to and Tony sits on the hood of one of the cars, staring up at the sky he's about to be shot into in about half an hour. It all seems so surreal to him that he doesn't even bother arguing even more, because it's happening. Six months of a build-up and of fights and threats and press scandals, and he's still here and still stuck on the end of his father's leash.
If only he could manage to unclasp the wedge of disappointment around his collar, he could maybe get on with his own life and stop letting his father guilt trip him constantly over every decision he ever makes. But, it's too late for anything now. This is happening.
"Gum?" Tony looks up when the hood of the car shakes as someone else sits down on it and takes the sweet offered, "You look like you need something to clench your teeth around."
Tony grimaces and rolls his shoulders back, turning to face the blond man that's decided to sit with him, "Clint Barton," He introduces himself as, and Tony takes his hand and opens his mouth to introduce himself as well when, "And you're Tony Stark, the genius prodigy. And, I heard, about to get married to an alien."
"They're not aliens," Tony says around the gum in his mouth, watching Howard out of the corner of his eye. Maria still sits in the car she'd come in, watching her husband just as her son does, "They're supposed Gods, though I don't believe that either."
"Well whatever they are, congratulations," It sounds dry even to him, and Tony guesses that this Clint guy probably knows that this marriage isn't exactly something that Tony wants, "Hope your father knows what he's doing."
"So do I," Tony sighs, reaching into the small bag he's brought for his sunglasses and he slips them on, "What do you know about Asgard?"
"Not much, and definitely not things you'd like to know," Clint answers, and then asks a question of his own, "How old are you anyway?"
"How old do I look?" Tony counters with a smirk, and he's rewarded with a laugh
"I wouldn't," Clint grins, blowing out a bubble in his gum and popping it with his finger.
"I'm twenty-one," Tony then answers, blowing a bubble of his own, "Twenty-two in a few days."
"Happy Birthday for then, seeing as I'm not likely to see you again," Clint kicks himself off of the hood and pats Tony on the arm as he leaves, "Nice clothes," Is the last thing he says before taking out his gum and sticking it on the S of the Stark symbol on the car's roof.
And Tony's just about to call after him when Howard shouts out his name, and when he looks up about six other people are staring at him. He guesses it's time.
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