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Mythos	By : OmniaVanitus Category: Marvel Verse Movies > Avengers, The Views: 4041 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 1
Disclaimer: I do not own The Avengers or any of the characters thereof, but I do claim the creative liberties to this story. No money is being made from this story.

Chapter List
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Disclaimer: I do not own The Avengers or any of the characters thereof, but I do claim the creative liberties to this story.

Tony Stark stood at the entrance to the alleyway, eyeing a fat grey rat as it scurried along to the overflowing dumpsters down the way.
He knew he was in the right place, Clint and him had scoped the place out often enough and the sign hanging over the unassuming metal door, and looking far too weather-beaten for a business that had just opened up the week before, confirmed it. The Mythos Tavern.
The neighborhood itself was shoddy and rundown and what Clint had referred to as 'upper-class ghetto'. It certainly wasn't anywhere anyone would expect to find the multibillionaire nor was it someplace he wanted to be either, but he didn't have a choice. The captain's incessant nagging was just too damn annoying.
Who the fuck was he to question his ability anyway? The Capsicle couldn't even program his goddamn VCR. Who the hell even owned a VCR anymore?
It's not like it was rocket science after all. Hell, if it were then it would have been easy, but there was only so much he could do with SHIELD's very limited data anyway. Loki had only used his magic once or twice. Everything else had come through the Chitauri spear and no one really knew what the fallen god was capable of except for maybe Thor, and the blonde Asgardian had no interest whatsoever in trying to help them cut off Loki's magic.
Thor wasn't concerned, and to be honest Tony wasn't either as long as Loki played nice. But even if he didn't, Tony was certain that the Hulk would love to make another appearance and tear up some more flooring with the god's face again and that alone should be enough of a deterrent to any future world domination plots the mischief maker might have.
Tony gave his sleek Acura NSX a forlorn look before stepping into the alley, crossing his fingers that his precious car would still be waiting for him and intact when he returned.
The nondescript metal door from the alley gave way to a small, dimly lit foyer lined with dark wood paneling and worn flooring that led to yet another door. Tony wasn't sure what he'd been expecting...a bottomless pit, a dungeon, a dumping ground filled with the bloody remains of dead cats and other animals...
There was none of that though, but the ornate, heavy wooden door was rather suspicious, mostly because of the eerie, sickly green glow it seemed to be emitting than whatever possible depravity that might lay behind it.
Tony hesitated, shifting from foot to foot anxiously, before curiosity won out and he carefully grabbed hold of the curved metal handle only to jerk away with a shocked cry as a violent ripple shot up his arm. Whiskey brown eyes stared down at the flawless skin of his palm, undamaged.
Huh, that was interesting. It hadn't really hurt, but the thrum of energy, or was it magic, that had swept through him had been unexpected and unsettling.
Shaking his head and steeling himself once more, the engineer grabbed the handle again, ignoring the second wave of energy...magic...whatever...that passed through him, and opened the door.
The tavern was just as dark as the entryway, but he could easily make out the handful of tables and chairs and the tall dark god currently hunched over the bar as he quietly read from an old leather bound journal. Loki appeared to have acclimated himself to Earth's more modern fashion; gone were his crazy Asgardian leathers, replaced instead with skintight, black denim jeans and a clingy, midnight blue sweater.
But what really caught his attention was the proverbial shrine of alcohol.
Stark's eyes zeroed in immediately, taking in the floor to ceiling wall of backlit shelves filled to the brim with every type of alcohol imaginable and the beautiful crystal glasses hanging overhead, catching and reflecting the light like little magical prisms.
It had his mouth watering and before the engineer even realized it, he was sliding into place onto one of the barstools. But before he even had a chance to open his mouth and order a tumbler of fine single malt scotch, the god cut him off.
"We're closed," Loki said, not even bothering to look up from his book.
Well damn. "Is that any way to treat a valued customer?"
Loki turned a page and Tony mentally noted the neat handwritten notes and diagrams. "We're closed. Get out."
Tony sighed. "You know, for someone who's supposed to be our new magical consultant you're not very forthcoming."
"Care to elaborate, Stark?"
"It's Tony and for starters, what the fuck is up with that door?"
"I have placed a number of protective spells upon it for the benefit of my customers and myself."
"I thought I was being electrocuted."
"It is intended as a deterrent to those who would do me or my patrons harm. But even if you had truly harbored any ill will against me, it still would not have harmed you. Permanently anyway."
"What would happen?"
"Spoilers," the god said as he finally tore his eyes away from the journal, his lips curling into a mischievous grin.
Tony leaned back in his seat. "I'm impressed, Reindeer Games. You're wearing our clothes, you're quoting Dr. Who... Have you tried pizza yet? Tell me you've had pizza."
Loki snapped the journal shut with an audible snap and Tony watched with keen eyes as the god flicked his wrist and the book twisted in on itself, disappearing into thin air. The god placed his hands on the bar top, leveling the engineer with his piercing green eyes. "What do you want, Stark?"
"Tony," he corrected again, "and I want a drink. I'd also like to know why my bracelet didn't work."
"The bar is closed and as for the bracelet," the god held up a thin wrist, the simple, black braided cord still in place, "is it not still tracking my whereabouts?"
"Cut the crap, Loki. You know what I mean."
"Yes, I believe I do." Another flick of his wrist and a simmering ball of green seiðr was balanced on the tips of long fingers. "You humans are capable of many things. Marvelous things even, though few and far between, but you lack the capacity to comprehend magic. And those gifted few who are capable of seeing your world for what it is are often times shunned and ridiculed."
"So, that's a no then?"
"The only one with the ability to stem my magic," Loki spat bitterly, "is the Allfather and he has little reason to do so. Though if you are so concerned perhaps you should start a petition."
Tony nodded his head gravely, then remembered. "Don't I still owe you a drink?"
"Get out of my bar, Stark."
"Hey, do you have a signature drink," the engineer asked, completely ignoring the god's demand. "Every good bar I've ever been to, and let's face it I've been to more than a few, always has a signature drink."
Loki sighed irritably, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Tony grinned triumphantly. Gotcha. "Come on, Rock of Ages. I'd get out of your hair a lot sooner if you'd saddle us both up with a drink."
"One drink," Loki bit out, raising a bony index finger, "and you will leave."
Stark nodded his head eagerly in agreement, too curious and thirsty to be concerned with something as meaningless as self-preservation.
Loki turned to pull down one of the crystal martini glasses, setting it on the bar top in front of the engineer.
"You're not gonna make yourself one?"
"I doubt you could afford my tastes, Stark."
Tony spread his arms out wide, flashing the mischievous god with his usual cocky grin. "Billionaire," he said simply as though that explained it all.
Loki nodded as he continued to mix the engineer's drink, looking completely unfazed by the admission. "Then perhaps I'll keep you indebted for a while longer."
With that he slid the finished concoction across the bar top towards Stark.
"An appletini," he asked incredulously.
"A golden appletini," Loki corrected, pressing a hip against the bar as he folded his arms over his lean chest.
Stark hummed skeptically, pulling the martini glass closer. The drink did have a golden amber color, not too unusual for alcohol, but the glittering twist of golden apple skin that was floating in it was. Still, the multibillionaire didn't even hesitate in gulping down a large mouthful. It was crisp and sweet, almost like biting into a ripe apple, but with the added burn of vodka.
"Not bad, Reindeer Games."
"You should consider yourself privileged," Loki commented, watching as Stark quickly drained his glass. "Few mortals have ever tasted the golden apples."
Tony blinked for moment. "The golden apples?"
Loki nodded in confirmation.
The engineer's playboy grin made a brilliant appearance at that. "Does this mean I'm immortal now?"
"Hardly," the god scoffed, waving a dismissive hand. "To become a god you must eat the entire apple, not just a bit of skin and juice. Though you may, no doubt, experience some health benefits."
Tony drummed his fingers on the bar top thoughtfully, watching as the god took the now empty glass away and began cleaning it. "Are these the same ones you stole from Asgard?"
Loki's green eyes flicked up to the engineer's before drifting back down to his work. "They are," he admitted.
Stark lent forward, folding his arms on top of the bar. "Since we're on the topic then, there's something I've been wondering about."
"Enlighten me," the god said in a bored tone, his hands never pausing as they ran a rag over the now clean crystal glass, drying it.
"In Greek mythology, the Trojan War was basically started when the goddess, Eris, threw a golden apple into someone's wedding party. Was that one of your apples?"
The corner of Loki's lips quirked up as he answered smugly. "It was."
"How did she get it?"
The subtle twitch of the god's thin lips grew into an outright devious smile that slowly spread across his pale face and sent a shiver down Stark's spine. "It makes since, does it not, that after my thievery it was in my best interest to make myself scarce from Asgard. As it was, I found myself wandering your realm." Loki paused, noticing Stark's raised eyebrow. "Or did you truly think that jaunt with the Chitauri was my first visit to your little planet?"
"So you were in cahoots with Eris then?
"No, Stark. I was Eris."
"Crossdressing," Tony commented. "Nice. I bet you look stunning in high heels."
"If you only knew," the god said coyly.
Stark shook his head, trying to rid it of the sudden barrage of images featuring Loki strutting around in a pair of designer pumps. "So you started a war because, why? You weren't invited to someone's wedding?"
"Not quite," Loki corrected. "I was in 'cahoots' with Aphrodite. She wanted to cause a war." A soft chuckle escaped him then. "She was rather jealous of Helen's beauty."
"You didn't try to stop her." It was neither a question nor was it accusatory. It should have been, but it wasn't.
"No, why should I have? Paris, could just have easily picked Hera or Athena over Aphrodite."
"People died," Tony offered.
"People tend to die in every war, Stark. And what do you care," the god asked curiously. "It was so far before your time it's considered myth. Hardly of any consequence."
"Just curious," the engineer said with a careless shrug, his hand coming up to stroke over his bearded chin thoughtfully. "So the gods from the other mythologies are real then."
"As real as Thor and I."
"Where are they now?"
"Here, there...it doesn't really matter."
"You think so?"
"Calm your paranoia, Stark. Not all gods wish harm upon you mortals."
"Just you, you mean."
"Extenuating circumstances, I assure you," Loki said, his tone darkening.
"Well come on, Reindeer Games. Inquiring minds want to know."
There wasn't much warning aside from a low growl, and then Loki's hand was wrapped around Stark's throat. "You've had your drink, Stark, and I have even indulged in your inane curiosity. But now it is time for you to leave."
"You really need to work on your hospitality, Reindeer Games." Ok, maybe he shouldn't have said that out loud if the sudden flip-flop in the pit of his stomach was anything to go by.
The pale hand around his throat tightened before he was suddenly being shoved back off of his barstool. But just as Stark was about to hit the hardwood floor, the odd flutter in his stomach intensified and the world froze around him. And then, he disappeared...
...reappearing moments later outside the bar, landing hard in one of the dumpsters he had seen out in the alley.
His ears had popped at the sudden displacement, and it took the engineer longer than he cared to admit for him to realize that he was now sprawled out in a pile of garbage, too focused as he was on remembering how to breath.
Tony turned his head slightly, coming face to face with the same grey rat from early and the sound of his car alarm blaring loudly.
Well, that went better than expected.

A/N: I'm not entirely happy with this chapter, and I don't quite have a plot yet, but it at least this gives you an idea of what I have planned. Essentially any folklore or myth that corresponds with another. Examples: Dragons and Vampires...ya, that shits gonna happen. If any of you have an idea, let me know.
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Mythos