Prompt#312- Catch as Catch Can- Room for Improvement 2.0 - Tekia – The Avengers/Exalted

[tekia.livejournal.com]

Title: Room for Improvement 2.0
Fandom: Avengers/Exalted
Prompt: Catch as Catch Can
Warnings:
Rating: PG-13
Summary: After falling into a trap, the first order of business it to find out where you are. But, if where you are makes no sense, then what are you supposed to do? Traveling to the future is easy, just fall asleep, right? Waking up to a whole different world is harder. Luckily, Tony Stark can adapt to any environment.


This road was the bumpiest road he’d ever had the honor to ride on. No, really, it was. He held on to the side of the wagon Iron Dust had hired out as the left back wheel crashed down into another massive pot hole and sent sharp pains up his ass. Really, the worse road. Were he in his time, he’d buy the road and rip it up with his repulsors and salt the dirt under it so no living thing could ever live on it again.
No, he wouldn’t. He’d lead a villain there and ‘accidently’ destroy the road in their fight. Then they would have to rebuild it, but he would pay the workers to make sure it was as smooth as silk when they were done.
Or something.
He clutched onto the side of the wagon for his life as they traveled up the road toward the massive city that looked like it belonged in a fairy tale picture book rather than actually existing. Even from outside the city, he could see the buildings that towered over the landscape.
There were towers of stunning height. There were pagodas painted with brilliant colors. There were steeples made of stone and others of wood. It should look like a mess of constructions, but somehow, it worked.
Carefully, Tony climbed up from the back of the wagon, pulling his feet in from where had let them dangle over the lip and faced Iron Dust who was sitting quietly, clutching at his guts as they tumbled over the road.
“Tell me about the city,” Tony demanded once more.
Iron Dust looked up, blinked, and then smiled lazily. “Great Forks is one of the greatest cities in the world. They have everything from gods to slaves in numbers that astound. It’s one of the richest cities outside the Blessed Isle, and hosts the largest number of spirits and elementals outside of Yu-Shan. Everywhere you go, you bump shoulders with some type of immortal. It is there we will find a god that can help us get you home.”
Entering the city felt surreal. There were people everywhere of every color; there was a woman who had copper skin and blue hair. He thought the hair had to be natural, as her eyebrows matched. There was a man that stood head and shoulders over everybody else, his limbs obscenely long and his skin a pale green with little twigs growing out of his shoulders. If they were in a car, Tony had no doubt that his nose would be pressed to the glass window to try to take it all in.
White Song directed their driver to where ever it was they were headed while Tony gawked at the nonhumans so bluntly on display. There was a creature that was more tree than man talking with a human girl no older than ten on a doorstep. There was a dog the size of a horse lugging around a wagon not unlike their own.
There was music in the air as they turned a corner and Tony laughed at the sight of a small band playing their instruments for the pleasure of those walking around them. There were fountains gleaming in the sunlight. Their wagon had to pull to once side to let pass a procession of what looked to be priests and monks.
Everywhere there were stalls built up with canopies to display seller’s wares. Voices called out bargains, and even more sang in languages Tony had no hope of identifying.
White Song directed their wagon through the city and toward the district of craftsmen. The sounds of festivities dimmed, but never went away fully, and the sounds of heavy labor took over. There was a heavy layer of smoke over this part of the city and Tony perked up even more at the familiar scents and sounds.
“A smithy.”
White Song nodded at him. “I have a friend here that will let us stay with him while we find our next goal.”
The wagon pulled to a stop outside a well-appointed house and the doors were thrown open while they unloaded from the wagon. Two young girls exited and bowed lowly to White Song. She motioned them on and they led them up the stairs and into the house.
The house itself was dark inside. The walls were a deep purple and the floors a black marble sliced through with grey lines. Dark drapes hid the interior from the sunlight outside, and Tony felt a silence as intense as the tomb settle over them.
“Who is your friend?” He had to fight the urge to whisper his question. Before White Song could answer, the girls stopped before a door. One knocked and the other carefully opened the door and bowed them inside.
White Song strolled in. “Shadow! You remember my companion, Stars of Sorrow?”
There was a man sitting behind a massive desk, smoking. The blue grey smoke hovered over his head only a moment before the fan held by a third young girl dispersed it. This man, Tony also knew. He felt his whole body stiffen as he realized this was the dark zombie that had summoned the lightning that smelt like death.
His skin was as pale as it had been when he was a zombie, and his hair was a glossy black where it was pulled over his shoulder in a loose tie. His eyes were as dark as his hair, and piercing as they traveled from White Song to Iron Dust.
“Ah, yes, the star walker. I remember you well.”
Iron Dust bowed, his hands folded in front of him. “Prince of Death, I see you have learned to thrive in Great Forks.”
He sat forward and took one last drag off his cigarette before pressing it out in an ashtray. “No thanks to you. My lord would have been quite happy had you not interfered with our plans.”
Iron Dust smiled serenely and bowed once more. “I merely do what I must. As I always have and always will.”
“As we all do,” he said. “Who is your human companion?”
White Song turned to Tony. “This is Lost Path.” Tony let himself arch one brow at the new name, but refrained from commenting. “He is seeking his way home, as I told you last night. He is blessed by his god, and we have been hired out to protect him on his journey. Path, this is Wisp of Shadow, minion of Death.”
Tony bobbed his head in a type of greeting, but Iron Dust’s lips tightened and he shot Tony a glance out the corner of his eye makes Tony copy his pervious bow. He saw White Song’s shoulders marginally relax and Wisp of Shadow’s lips turn up at the corners. He was staring hard at Tony, studying him. There was something about looking in the man’s eyes that made Tony nervous in ways he had never been before, like he was standing on the brink of an abyss, precariously balanced where the slightest of nudges could send him spiraling down never to return.
A hand on his shoulder jerked him back into his body and Iron Dust stepped between them, blocking Wisp of Shadow out of sight. “Don’t look into his eyes,” he murmured. “He is living death, and you are only a human.”
“Exalted?”
“A Death Knight.”
Tony shuddered and forced himself to back away. “Okay.”
Iron Dust tilted his head to once side, confusion gracing his features. Oops, that’s an American word, not translatable. Tony just smiled and shook his head. “Never mind.” Iron Dust nodded and turned back to the Death Knight.
White Song was leaning heavily on the desk now, poking around at the papers littering its surface. “Will we have to provide food for ourselves, or have you…?”
He stood and snatched the papers out of her hands. “I have ordered the slaves to see to your every wish, beast woman. “ He came around the desk and herded them out of the room. “You each have a room-“
“We’ll share one room,” White Song interrupted.
“I’d like my own bed,” Tony commented, scratching his nose. White Song threw her arm out and hit him in the gut.
“And then we’ll like food. I could eat a yeddim.”
Wisp of Shadow rolled his eyes. “Of course. The slaves will obey.” He showed them to another room, a bedroom. Iron Dust entered first, headed straight for the bed, where he perched on the edge and yawned widely. White Song stood on her toes and pecked a kiss to Wisp of Shadow’s cheek.
“Thank you, old friend. We will remember this.”
“You had better.” He slanted a narrow eyed glare at Iron Dust. “I will remember this.”
Iron Dust waved a hand absently at him as he left them. Tony turned to him. “Wow, that was different. So, what did you do to him?”
Iron Dust almost chuckled. “My job.”
White Song did laugh. “He saved him from dying. Rescued him like he were a helpless babe.”
Tony grinned. “Humiliated him?”
“But of course!” She laughed again and jumped on the bed. Which, Tony was thankful to see, was an actual bed, plush and wide and everything he had been dreaming about for the last three days.
Tony joined them on the bed. “And you two are friends?”
“Yeah, we had a thing in the past, before I joined Iron Dust.”
“Ex-boyfriend?”
She shook her head and flopped back on the bed. Iron Dust leaned forward, his elbows braced on his knees and his head lowered. His hair fell forward to hide his face from view, but Tony had the impression that he was barely awake. He was almost tempted to push him back on the bed so he could sleep not sitting up. He’d done that before and it always gave him a pain in the neck.
“Not at all. We had a common goal, and worked together.” White Song’s gaze turned toward Iron Dust and softened. She reached a hand out and rested it on his back. “Iron Dust, on the other hand, will be the father of my children.”
Iron Dust’s head snapped up and, hey, he didn’t look tired at all. More irritated. “No.”
She pouted and fluttered her lashes at him. “Come on now, love. Our children will be beautiful and powerful and great.”
He shook his head. “No.”
“You’re so stubborn.” Then she grinned. “Luckily, so am I.” She nodded and turned her eyes back to Tony. “What about you? And lovers you left behind?”
Tony smiled. “Many.”
Her grin grew. “Many?”
He nodded. “Many.” He slapped his hands on his thighs and stood. “Why didn’t you tell him our real names? Or, rather, why does he know you as Star of Sorrow?”
Iron Dust shook his hair away from his face and stood as well. He walked to a table that held a basin and pitcher filled with water. “That’s what I called myself when I met him.” He shrugged. “So, to him, that’s my name.”
Tony narrowed his eyes. “Is Iron Dust your real name?”
“It is. I’m not hiding from you, and do not fear your betrayal.” He smiled at Tony over his shoulder as he poured water into the basin. “You should feel honored.”
Tony touched a hand to his arc reactor. “Oh, I do.” He turned back to White Song. “And you changed my name because?”
She snorted. “You are blessed by a god. You must be protected. Hiding your name is one way in protecting you, I’m sure you’re smart enough to know that.”
“I do! But, I thought he was your friend.”
“He betrayed all living things on Creation, of course I don’t trust him with important things.” She rolled her eyes and settled more firmly on the bed, her eyes closing. Iron Dust washed his hands and tried them on his trousers.
“We should rejoin our host.”
“I’m sleeping. Unlike you two, I didn’t get to sleep all day and night.”
He smiled fondly at her and held his hand out toward Tony. “Sleep then. I’ll send a slave for you when we eat.”
She waved them away, and Iron Dust led them back out of the room. As Tony followed him down the dark hall, he asked, “Are slaves so usual in Creation?”
Iron Dust shrugged his shoulders. “In Great Forks, they are. Yes, slavery is usual in Creation.” He paused before one of the young girls that had led them into the house. “It’s a terrible thing, but it’s too massive for us to tackle now.”
“So you do plan on doing something about it?”
He caught Tony’s eye and made a face. “If we win this war.”
And just like that, Tony was reminded that they weren’t going to win this war. He knew it in his bones. In his armor. They had spoken about a mechanical god that they were waging a war against, and Tony knew that that god had won. If he were to choose a god, that mechanical god would be his patron god.
But it was Luna that had chosen him. He forced a smile for the slave girl, but she didn’t even look at him as they walked on.
They found Wisp of Shadow standing at a window in a dining room, peering out at the street from behind the curtain. Iron Dust politely coughed to draw his attention. The dark man waved them toward the table. “Help yourself. I have business to attend until later tonight. I’ll join you for the late meal then.” He stalked out of the room, leaving Tony gazing bemusedly after him.
“What do Death Knights do aside from … death?”
Iron Dust turned toward a buffet table laden with food. “Probably the same things we all do. He has a job here to pay for this house. Makes social calls, what have you.”
Tony followed him to the table and grabbed a plate. He didn’t recognize any of the foods, but filled his plate gamely. “Doesn’t sound too great, being a Death Knight over, you know, ordinary.”
“What is ordinary? I know Dragons that have to eke out a living alone on an island far away from civilization, while slaves in Great Forks are treated like kings. I know gods that are homeless and hated, while demons are worshiped as gods. Being Exalted doesn’t make one more important than anybody else. We may be made out of stronger stuff than humans and gods, but we are still human, in a way. We still are a part of Creation, and thus we live by Creation’s rules.”
Tony nodded as they sat at the table. He picked at his food, tasting each item on his plate, deciding if he liked it or not. Trying to identify it all. “No, yeah, I get that. It’s sorta like science. Uh, like, physics. We all have to obey it, even if some of us understand it better than others. We still have to play by the rules.”
“I don’t understand what you’re referencing, but sure, sounds about right.”
“Then, what’s your job?”
Iron Dust blinked at him before answering. “I follow the orders passed down from Heaven. As a member of the brotherhood of the Maidens, I follow the chain of command and do what I have been ordered to do.”
“Taking me home. That’s an order from Heaven? From your bosses?”
Iron Dust made an expression that showed his thoughts on that. “Not really. Luna is not a part of that chain of command, but she is one of the most powerful gods in Yu-Shan.” He shrugged. “I will help her, and perhaps she’ll remember that I helped her and return the favor.”
“So that’s the way of celestial beings. Tit for tat.”
“It’s very political, Yu-Shan.”
Tony bit into a bit of bread. “Can I go there, before we go back?”
That startled a laugh out of Iron Dust. “Humans are not allowed into Yu-Shan save as slaves to the gods. And you do not want to be a slave to the gods.”
“Yeah, I don’t wanna be a slave.” Then Tony asked questions about the city and they finished their meal. Slaves came and took away the dirtied plates. After, Iron Dust offered to let Tony join him as he sought out the god that could help them.
Tony was all over that.
At first they walked aimlessly through the city and Tony turned into a tourist. His head tilted back to see the towering buildings better, he was led along by Iron Dust’s hand on his elbow. He pointed out sights that awed him, achievements in science that he hadn’t thought people in this time could achieve. Iron Dust crumbled much of his awe by admitting that many of the advancements were actually magically achieved.
They paused at many temples and Tony met many monks, priests, and spirits. He put on his charm and won over many of them in the few moments he had with each one. He flirted with a woman with blue skin and seaweed for hair. He chatted up an old matron with red eyes and black skin so wrinkled she looked like she was made of wood. He was offered sacred wine in nearly every stop they made, and unlike Iron Dust, he was quite tipsy by the time they approached a small shrine littered with sundials on its grounds.
Tony leaned heavily on Iron Dust’s shoulder as they paused at the gate to deposit a coin in the offering jar. “What god is this? Is this a time god? That’s what we’re looking for, isn’t it?”
Iron Dust bowed to the statue carved into the gate before he stepped forward to jingle the wind chime that stood in for a doorbell. Tony nearly lost his balance when he stepped out from under him, but quickly regained it with only a minute stumble.
“Of a type,” Iron Dust said. “This is the god of sundials. Maybe this is the god that will be able to help us, maybe not.”
“Have I told you lately how much I love how you always are so straight forward in your answers?”
Iron Dust gave him a small smile. “It’s always good to know you appreciate the answers to you innumerable questions.”
A young boy wearing a slave’s collar approached and opened the gate for them. They followed him through the throng of sundials and wind chimes and into the temple proper. There was a statue that would have looked right at home in a Greek temple of a man pointing toward the sky, a kilt his only clothing.
The slave and Iron Dust both paused to bow to the statue before continuing on. Tony paused before the statue and debated whether it what was less insulting to the god. Bowing and falling on his face, or not to bow at all. Just as Iron Dust disappeared around a corner, Tony decided on a salute and rushed after him. He turned the corner and crashed into Iron Dust’s back, and the man turned an amused stare back toward him.
“Behold, Iron Man, Wana, the god of sundials.” He gestured grandly toward the man, no, god, standing before them. Tony reflexively smiled and held out his hand to greet him, but Iron Dust gripped his forearm and pulled him down into a bow. Thankfully, as the liquor from before rushed to his head, Iron Dust had a firm hold on him and didn’t let him stumble.
“Greetings, human,” the god said, his voice low and steady, yet strong enough for Tony to feel the power behind it. This was the first god Tony had met in this world, the other temples either being empty or headed by priests. He looked human enough, with black hair cut short and curling over his ears, and deep set brown eyes. His skin was weathered, brown and wrinkled, and Tony was once more reminded of the Greek. He looked much how Tony expected those ancient philosophers looked.
“You are on a quest for Luna, are you not?”
Startled, Tony looked to Iron Dust, but Iron Dust didn’t look surprised at all. Maybe these gods were more godly than Thor, and had access to knowledge between them.
“We are, Lord Wana. What time spells do you know?”
“What will you pay me for my knowledge?”
Iron Dust pulled a scroll from the bag that always hung from his belt and unfurled a length of it. “I bring to you the commands of Luna.”
Tony leaned over Iron Dust’s shoulder and whispered. “What’s that?”
Iron Dust shoved him away, and Tony pouted a moment before he realized Iron Dust wasn’t going to be looking at him anytime soon, so stopped. He watched as Wana frowned and held his hand out for the scroll. Iron Dust stepped forward and placed the scroll on his extended hand with a bow. He stepped backwards toward Tony again and they waited while Wana read the scroll.
Finally, after several moments of silence, Wana lowered the scroll and gazed at the two of them dispassionately. “Why should I heed the words of Luna? She has no authority over me.”
Tony could feel the beginnings of anger pooling low in his chest at the god. Hadn’t White Song and Iron Dust both said that Luna was one of the eight great gods? Did the other gods not follow their rules, their lead? He took a calming breath and fisted his hands at his side. He wanted to go home, and this god was being a brat. He had to bite his tongue to keep silent. Iron Dust had already told him twice that it was better for his health if he didn’t mouth off to the gods they may encounter.
Iron Dust dipped his head. “The commands are mine, Lord Wana, the request yours,” he offered politely, voice demure and eyes lowered. Wana nodded, accepting his words.
“Still, if you want my knowledge, you must offer me something more.” Then Tony felt his blood turn cold as the god’s dark eyes turned to the arc reactor hidden behind his tunic. His breath hissed in between his teeth and his hand shot out to grip Iron Dust’s sleeve. His heart was pounding in his ears, and fear griped his limbs.
“He can’t have it,” Tony ground out. Iron Dust put his hand over Tony’s on his sleeve and opened his mouth to reply, but the air suddenly turned cold around them. Iron Dust’s head whipped around toward the god. Wana’s eyes blazed with anger and his lips curled over his teeth in a snarl.
“Who are you, mortal to say what I can and can’t have? Who are you, human,” he spat, “That you speak before me as if you were my equal?” He advanced on them and Iron Dust stepped between them, one hand raised to waylay the god, the other still holding Tony’s hand.
“Please, Lord Wana, he meant no harm, he knows not our ways and stumbles as he learns. Forgive him, for he has Luna’s blessing.”
Wana made a sharp gesture with his hand, eyes still boring into Tony’s. “I care not for Luna’s blessings. He’s not bathed in moonlight, now. Teach your human respect for his betters.”
Pepper used to tell him that maybe he should just not talk. Usually when he had already said something completely stupid, usually in front of a reporter or on camera. She would look at him with a look that clearly stated she doubted his genius level IQ.
Sometimes, he would agree with her, because, even as he said something he knew he shouldn’t be saying, he would still say it. That brain to mouth filter just didn’t work all the time on him. He should look into having it replaced.
“Fuck you,” he snapped. He was Tony Stark, accredited genius, head inventor of the most technologically advanced company that side of Creation, and filthy rich. Betters indeed.
And Iron Dust has already mastered Pepper’s look of disparaging distain for his witty comments. “Perhaps instead, we shall just focus on investing in a spell to rid you of your stupidity.”
“I take exception to that. I am very smart. Just foolhardy.” They both turned back to the god who had worked himself into a fit of anger. The hems of his pants and tunic flapped in a breeze that had no source and Tony couldn’t help but to take a step back. Yeah, he often couldn’t control his mouth, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew a god, even one he didn’t really believe to be a real god, could mop the floor with him and his frail human body. Then steal his arc reactor to boot. His hand crept up to cover the glow he knew was hidden by his tunic, and it was only then that he realized that Iron Dust still had a firm hold on his other hand.
“It was a mistake to come here,” he said, bowing slightly. “We shall leave your presence and never bother you again. Forgive us.”
“I will not. I demand he pay for his insolence.”
When Tony’s mouth opened Iron Dust’s short blunt nails dug into the flesh of his hand, reminding him that he had done enough damage. His jaw snapped closed with a click.
“He is my charge, accept my apologies.” Iron Dust’s voice was low and calm, steady and sure. His head was bowed only slightly, but his eyes were bright and focused sharply on the god. As close as Tony was standing to him, he could feel the tension radiating from the small frame, his muscles coiled and ready to fight or to flee. Tony’s body tensed up as well, his battle senses clicking in and he sorely wished for his armor.
“I will not.” He reached for Tony, his fingers long like talons. Tony flinched and Iron Dust moved. He moved fast enough that Tony didn’t even see him move. One second he was standing as still as a statue, the next he had slapped Wana’s hand away and moved up close to the god, nearly nose to nose. He had pushed him away forcefully with a flat palm to his chest. There was a faint yellow glow around Iron Dust’s hand, there and then gone.
The god growled and spun on his heel, stalking away from them. “I have been insulted!” he raged. “I demand ramification.”
Iron Dust bowed. “But of course. We offer our apologies.”
“It is not enough.”
Tony watched as Iron Dust’s shoulders drooped. “And what will you have from me?”
Wana gave him a sly smile. “Your service, three months.” He walked toward a seat and sat with great aplomb. “You will be my indentured servant for three months.”
Tony reached out for Iron Dust’s shoulder. “No,” he started to say, but Iron Dust turned a glare on him. It was quite startling with his eyes blazing yellow.
“Shut up,” he hissed.
Wana’s smile was wicked and Tony had a sinking feeling that this had been Wana’s plan all along. Iron Dust turned back to the god. “As you desire, Lord Wana. Three months for our pardon and your knowledge.”
“No.”
Tony felt Iron Dust stiffen. “No?” His voice was dangerously low and threatening.
“Three months to assuage my temper. For my knowledge, I require something else.” Once more, his eyes went to the arc reactor. Iron Dust shifted until he blocked Tony’s chest from view. The god’s eyes went to Iron Dust. “I want a new invention to keep track of time.”
Oh. Oh, well, Tony could do that. The whole time he’d been here, he’d never once seen a clock. He could build a clock and bam, they’d be done with the god. Except now Iron Dust had to serve Wana for three months. Guilt, something very familiar to him, twisted in his chest. He reached for Iron Dust’s belt and tugged.
“I can make that.”
Iron Dust slanted his eyes toward him. “Are you sure?”
“Positive. I can do it.”
Iron Dust studied him a moment before he nodded once, and then turned back to Wana. “Very well, we accept.” He bowed once more and began pressing Tony out of the room. “I shall return with the dawn to begin my servitude.”
Wana waved a hand at them, dismissing them, his head tilted away as if he had already forgotten them. Once they were out of the temple, Iron Dust spun on him and glared. “I should cut out your tongue. It’d save us all a world of trouble.”
Tony smiled. “I’ve heard that before.”
Iron Dust hissed and turned away, stalking down the street. Tony followed, silent. They arrived back at the house to find White Song lounging in the dining room. She took one look at Iron Dust’s face and leaped to her feet. “What happened?”
“I have been pressed into service to Lord Wana, the sundial god.”
Her eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“It doesn’t matter. It shall only be for three months. He has agreed to help us find a spell for Iron Man, but we have to build something first.”
Her eyes went from him to Tony and back. “Why are you enslaved then?”
“I told you, it doesn’t matter.” He walked out of the room and toward the stairs. Tony and White Song watched him go, silent for a moment, before she turned on him, eyes flashing angrily. “Tell me.”
“I made a mistake.” Wow did that hurt to admit. He wiped his hands on his pants and tried to walk around her. “And he took the blame. I’m sorry.” That pleasant buzz from before was long gone, leaving his head aching and his stomach feeling hollow.
White Song cursed. “This quest is turning out to be a mistake.” She stalked along after him, muttering under her breath. He had thought that perhaps she would have turned on him, scratching his eyes out and ripping him limb from limb. She gave the impression that she was quite wild.
They made it to the bedroom just as Iron Dust knelt before the window, a chalk circle drawn on the floorboards. He folded his hands before him and closed his eyes. Tony opened his mouth to speak, but White Song’s hand on his shoulder made him pause.
“He communes with his Maiden. Leave him.” She turned around and left the room, leaving Tony to stare at Iron Dust.
For a long moment, they sat in silence. Tony thought that the silence should have been at least filled with the sound of the ticking of a clock, and then he remembered that he was going to invent the clock for these people.
Instantly, his mind was awash with ideas and plans. The tools and items and materials that he was going to need flooded him, and he began making lists. His fingers began tapping out a rapid beat on his knee while his eyes stared vacantly at Iron Dust’s back.
He blinked and came back to himself and finally noticed that the chalk around Iron Dust had grown and changed. As he looked, the chalk kept moving, growing into an intricate pattern. He leaned forward and watched it form patterns and decay into different patterns as a yellow glow pulsed around the circle. He knelt on the ground, trying to investigate and suddenly Iron Dust was facing him and pressing him back with a hand on his shoulder.
“Do not break the spell.”
“What does it do?”
“Focuses my essence so I can gain the attention of my Maiden.”
“What is essence? You’ve mentioned it before.”
“Essence is…” He paused and glanced down at the chalk circle. Tony followed his gaze and felt a stab of disappointment to find that the chalk was once more stationary. Iron Dust stood gracefully and dusted off his knees. “Essence is what every living thing is made of. It is the source of life and the power of Exalted and gods alike.” He sat on the bed and rubbed his eyes.
“It’s like Chi, you focus it, and you become better at yourself.”
“I don’t know what Chi is.”
“I’m gonna go with, it’s what we call Essence.” He nodded. “Yeah, it is.” He glanced back at the circle. “Why do you glow?”
“There are two types of Essence. There’s the essence inside you, which anybody can learn to harness, and there’s the Essence that is outside of you. Only gods and Exalts have the ability to use that Essence, and when you use it, it creates an aura around you. Depending on how much you’re using, depends on how big and bright that aura is.”
“Can you teach me how to use my Essence?” Before he had joined the Avengers, Tony had begun training with Happy in boxing, and since joining the Avengers, he’s had plenty of fighting experience, but he’s never learned any martial arts, or anything that could help him mentally to become more. Iron Dust looked him up and down and Tony had to fight not to glance away. It was like he was looking inside Tony, seeing all the defects that he worked so hard to hide, all the failings and fears that he buried so deep inside they always surprised him when the resurfaced. He felt bare under that yellow gaze.
“I could. I believe you have what it takes to become great, but I don’t think Luna will like it.” He shook his head. “It matters not. I will teach you, but it will have to come after my three months indentured servitude.”
“I’m sorry about that.”
Iron Dust suddenly smirked, and Tony had the sinking feeling that he had missed something.
“Do not be.”
“You’re going to make me pay for that, aren’t you?”
“But of course.” He stood and motioned for Tony to follow. They left the room and began walking down the hall. “It is your fault I’m in this predicament. Ah, White Song, Iron Man tells me that he can build a machine that will keep time at all hours of the day and night.”
She glanced between the two men before settling her gaze on Iron Dust finally. “And?”
“And I believe he’ll need parts?”
Tony nodded. “I will, but I can make the parts I need.”
Iron Dust smiled back at him. “What luck that we’re in a black smith’s home, then.” He reached out and took White Song’s hand in his. “Won’t you ask our generous host if he may use the smithy?” She narrowed her eyes at him as if she were trying to see inside his head.
“If I must.” She turned to walk away, then paused, slanting him a glance over her shoulder. She shook her head and then continued on her way.
Tony watched her knock on Wisp of Shadow’s office door before turning to Iron Dust. “What did your Maiden say to you?”
A confused frown turned down Iron Dust’s brows. “Nothing? What makes you ask?”
“White Song said you were communing with your Maiden.” He pointed back the way they had come. “What were you doing up there?”
His brow smoothed out and a serene smile curved his lips. “That’s my secret, human. Come out to the garden, I’ll show you some techniques before dinner.”
They exited the house and Iron Dust led them far enough away from the house that the black smoke from the front street wasn’t so heavy overhead. They sat on the ground facing each other and Iron Dust reached out for Tony’s hands.
“Essence is everything. It gives life and can take life. Even the Wyld is made of Essence, untamed and disordered. It flows like blood and it is forever.” He placed his thumbs over Tony’s pulse at his wrists and pressed. “Feel your blood in your veins and think if that as your Essence.”
“Is-“
“No. Essence is the thought in your head, it is the breath in your lungs. It is everything that makes you you, not just your blood.” He rolled his eyes up, and Tony followed his gaze, seeing that faint yellow glow growing around them. “Everything outside your body is Essence, and everything inside is Essence. You can train yourself to feel it.”
They sat in silence for a long moment, Tony gazing at the smoke-like tendrils of Essence pouring off Iron Dust. The aura was a solid yellow, almost how he imagined halo’s in biblical paintings must have meant to look. The yellow surrounded his body like an outline and Tony glanced down to where they held hands, and didn’t he feel slightly foolish, holding hands in a garden like risqué lovers.
He had thought maybe the aura would have a solid feel to it, but he couldn’t feel a thing. Iron Dust scratched a nail over the skin of his wrist.
“Stop thinking. Let go of what you know, and feel.”
Tony rolled his eyes but took a deep breath and forced himself to empty his mind. Which was much harder than he had ever thought. He was used to going down to his garage and working on some project or another to block out thoughts, not idling around on his butt. He stared at Iron Dust’s yellow eyes and after a moment realized that the blacks of his eyes weren’t solid black, but held small flares of light, like dozens of stars hidden in their depths. His heart started pounding harder as he sucked in a breath.
He really wasn’t human. Those weren’t contacts that were for show. This magic stuff was suddenly quite real and in his face. His skin heated with the urge to jump to his feet, fight, or flee. Goose flesh pimpled his skin and he could feel the blood rushing through his veins.
Suddenly it was all gone and he was once more feeling foolish sitting on the slightly cool grass holding hands with someone who really was still so much of a stranger.
Iron Dust dropped his hands. “I want you to find your Essence inside you. You’ve felt mine and now know what Essence makes us.”
And, incredibly, he did. It was like a drink of cool water on a hot summer day. He hungered for another touch, perhaps something more familiar. His own Essence. Ice for his water.
Iron Dust stood and looked up at the darkening sky, Venus shining brightly against the purple sky.
“When did it get so late?” Tony asked, startled at the passage of time. The afternoon had only just begun when they had come out to the garden. He stood and bit back a groan at the crack in his knees.
“Let’s eat,” Iron Dust said instead and led the way back toward the house.
Tony dutifully followed, ignoring a new hollow feeling in his gut that said food wasn’t going to fill him up like that touch of Essence had. He scratched at the back of his neck and hurried to catch up with Iron Dust.
“Will you stay with Wana, or will you stay here?”
“The god will keep me busy, but I will have to keep in contact with the two of you.” He smirked over his shoulder at Tony. “Someone has to keep an eye on you so you don’t stuff too much of your foot into your mouth.”
Tony sighed dramatically. “I’ll have you know, back home, I’m a very amazing person and have never stuffed my foot in my mouth while there.” Which was a blatant lie, and he was sure Iron Dust knew it to be with how he rolled his eyes. Tony chuckled, feeling something settle around him. Calm.
He felt calm for the first time since arriving in this other world. He paused just outside the dining room where White Song and Wisp of Shadow were sitting at the table. Iron Dust joined them with a greeting, and Tony wondered about what was happening here, now.
These people, he was trusting with his life, his future. He didn’t know them from Adam and yet, here he was, leaning heavily upon them as if they were the Avengers. Trusting them as if they were his teammates.
He shook those thoughts away. Steve, Bruce, Clint, Natasha, and Thor were his teammates, his people. And it was to them that he was trying to return.
He sat at the table and slaves entered to serve them.
The food was a sight to behold. Exotic and spicy and flavorful, the food was vastly different from what they had been eating up to this point.
“These dishes come from my Lord’s homeland,” Wisp of Shadow said at Tony’s compliments. “When I was sent here, he gave me a ghost to remind me of home.”
“Where your loyalty lies,” Iron Dust put in around a mouthful of meat.
Wisp of Shadow made a face at Iron Dust. “It was a gift, for my labor on his behalf.”
“Or a shackle to keep you tied down.”
Wisp of Shadow slammed his fist on the table, frowning. White Song reached out and covered his fist with her small hand. “Leave it, boys. We have plans to make. Wisp has granted us permission to stay here until your service to the god is complete. He has also granted Lost Path access to his forge.”
Wisp of Shadow turned his dark eyes to Tony. “Indeed. Whatever it is you need, you may have.”
“Thank you.”
Wisp of Shadow’s eyes looked him up and down, and Tony was really getting tired of being measured like that by everybody he met. Back home, everybody knew him, respected him or feared him because of his fame and wealth or because of his status as a superhero, nobody didn’t know him and his strengths. “Will you need a slave to help you with the forging?”
Tony wrinkled his nose. “I can do it alone.”
Wisp of Shadow nodded once and went back to his meal, chatting lightly with White Song about things in the past. Reminiscing. Tony turned them out, once more letting his mind wonder off on schematics.
Then; “He said ghost.” And wasn’t that something. Iron Dust smiled at the wan look Tony was sending him. Ghosts! He had the inkling of an urge to go to the kitchen and see this ghost, almost as compelling as the urge to flee this dark, funereal house.
After they had finished eating, Wisp of Shadow offered to show Tony the forge. The four of them traveled outside through a different door than the one leading to the long garden. The smithy wasn’t unlike the one from the cave in Afghanistan, if better equipped and lit. The tools were very familiar and Tony felt something else sooth inside him. Here, he could be at home.
There were plates of armor hanging uncompleted from the walls, black and made from a material Tony wasn’t sure he was correctly identifying. He stepped up close to one and touched the cool stone.
“Is this jade?”
“It is to be a gift to a local Dragon.”
“An armor made from jade?”
The three of them all stared at him as if he were speaking English. He rapped his fingers against the stone. Finally, Wisp of Shadow said, “Humans don’t use jade, do they?”
White Song sniffed. “As if you weren’t human once upon a time.”
He grinned. “I haven’t been human longer than you haven’t been human.”
She rolled her eyes and waved at the massive oven on the opposite side of the smithy. “I see something dangerous over there.”
They followed her gaze and Iron Dust sucked in a sharp breath. “How did you get that?”
Wisp of Shadow’s grin remained firmly in place. “I stole it from a fool.”
There was a pair of gauntlets made out of some sort of golden material hanging on the wall next to the fire. They nearly glowed in the firelight and drew Tony’s eyes like a lodestone. He reached out a hand to touch them, pausing only inches away. “What material is this?”
Wisp of Shadow snorted a laugh. “This Blessed One is sheltered, is he not?”
“Those are the ones that suit gods the best,” Iron Dust murmured, eyes hot on Tony’s face as he gazed up at the gauntlets. He turned to Wisp of Shadow. “How much do you want for them?”
Wisp of Shadow’s eyes turned calculating. “Why?”
Iron Dust shrugged. “They will be better off in my possession than tainted by yours.”
“Of course,” Wisp of Shadow said, bitterness lacing his tone. “I’ll sell them for a vial of ambrosia.” White Song’s eyes widened and she gave a low whistle. She looked from Wisp of Shadow to Iron Dust.
Iron Dust considered a moment then nodded. He reached into his ever present bag and pulled out a clay jar about the size of two fingers and held it out to Wisp of Shadow. The exchange made, Wisp of Shadow turned away and waved a hand, the vial already hidden from sight. “Whatever you need, Lost Path, you may use if it’s here. Ask the slaves for whatever isn’t.”
White Song watched him leave before turning back to Iron Dust. “I don’t know what you’re planning, and I’m not sure I want to.” She shook her head. “I’ve received word that members of my pack are here. I’m going to find them and may not return until tomorrow. Don’t leave before I get back.”
Iron Dust nodded. He turned his eyes to Tony. “Make sure you are never alone with Wisp of Shadow. He plays at not caring about who you are and why we’re here, but he’s very clever. I don’t put it past him to already know everything.”
“What use of me could he have?”
Iron Dust lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Who knows the plans of the dead? Just don’t let him too close. He’s powerful and has his own agenda. As long as we keep him entertained and seem useless, he’ll let us be.” He nodded toward White Song. “Leave him his armor.”
She held out her hands, that silvery shimmer came back and there was his armor. And that soothed him unlike anything else could, seeing his armor, touching it. He hugged the helmet to his chest, and White Song rolled her eyes. “I’m off,” she said, leaving them.
Once she was gone, Iron Dust motioned toward the gauntlets. “Those are yours now. You may not be able to use them properly, but given time, you may be able to wear them.”
He was near salivating as he reached up for the gauntlets. They were much heavier than he expected them to be, and far more bulky than his own gauntlets. They were warm in his hands and seemed to pulse with an inner heat. “What material is this?”
“One of the five magical material, Orichalcum.”
“Five?”
“Jade,” he motioned toward the many pieces of armor scattered around the workshop in various states of completion. “Orichalcum, Moonsilver, Soulsteel, and Starmetal. The five magical materials.”
“How are they magical?”
“You can pour Essence into them and make of them something great.”
“Which is why you say that I can’t use these properly.”
Iron Dust nodded. “You are not an Exalt.” He looked around the workshop and nodded to himself. “I can see you think you can build this timekeeper very quickly, but I think you should take your time. We are tied here for three months, and Wana will not expect a quick production.” He fingered a hammer twice the size of his fist. “Take your time, let Wisp of Shadow think you are focusing all your creation abilities on the project.” His eyes were on the red and gold armor laying on a table where White Song had left it.
Tony nodded, following his gaze. “Yeah, I can do that.” Then he flicked his gaze around the room. While many of the tools were familiar, the things he needed for the clock weren’t absent. He was going to have to make his own gears and, in this workshop, he was going to have to work catch as catch can to make them from what he could find.
A slow burn started in his stomach and his hands itched to get to work. Iron Dust left him to it, patting his hand against his shoulder on his way out of the door. “Don’t stay in here too late. Death Knights become more active at night.”
“Ghosts?”
Iron Dust smiled over his shoulder at him. “They’re not hungry, and Wisp is our alley; they’ll leave you be.” He disappeared from the door, and Tony hugged the gauntlets to his chest.
“What does hungry mean?” He shook his whole body and firmly turned his thoughts toward the work ahead of him. Without JARVIS or his own lab, rebuilding the Iron Man armor was going to be quite the effort. He had spotted a spool of copper wire and that was the most advanced material he had seen in the shop.
Then his eyes slid to the jade, then to the golden armor in his hands.
No, first, the clock, then the armor.
He set the gauntlets next his armor and set about making molds for the gears out of the clay that had been stored next to the door. He carved the molds carefully and made the gears out of the crude iron heated over the forge fire. This was easy work and he could probably do it in his own lab with his eyes closed, and it was nice to have control over something, finally.
At some point, he heard White Song and Iron Dust return and speak quietly to each other in the doorway, but he couldn’t tear himself away from his creation.
The clock was going to smaller than a kitchen clock, and he even put for the effort to create a case to hold it, making it elaborately decorated with the same swirls and curves that he had seen Iron Dust create with his Essence and chalk. By the time he finished, it was a work of art.
He sat back and admired his creation, rubbing a hand over his overgrown beard. There was late afternoon light pouring through the windows and he bit back a yawn when he realized that he had spent the better part of twelve hours working on this case. The gears were still cooling on a table, and the faceplate of the clock was still unadorned with numbers. He was reaching for the clock’s face when White Song entered, a plate of food in her hands.
“You need to eat, human. Then sleep.” She slapped his hand away from the tools and placed the plate of bread and stew before him. His stomach grumbled loudly at the fragrant smells wafting up from the plate. “Iron Dust would kill me if I let you waste away while he was gone.”
Tony rubbed his nose and reached for the spoon. “Is this a specialty of Great Forks? Stew and bread?”
She arched a brow and sat on the table, picking up a random tool to inspect. “I should expect is cheap and easy to make, thus a stable everywhere.”
Tony pretended to think about that as he chewed at the juicy meat. “Sure, I can get behind that idea."
As he ate, White Song inspected his work, holding the casing up to the fading light and tipping it first one direction then another. “It’s beautiful,” she commented. “You’re an artist.”
“Not really. Steve is an artist. I just make what I see.”
Her eyes flicked to the armor, the helmet sitting up as if it were watching them from its place of honor on top. “You made that? Where did you see that?”
He turned in his seat to gaze fondly at the armor. “Now that, I made that to please myself. There’s no art in that, just pure genius.”
She snorted a laugh and shook her head. “You’re not short on modesty, are you? Don’t answer that, I already know.” She jumped off the table. “Come, you will sleep now and then play nice with our host in the morning before he leaves on a mission up north.”
“He’s leaving?”
“For a while. Iron Dust will return with the morn as well to see Wisp off. You can show him your amazing progress then.” She curved a hand under his arm and forced him to his feet with her unusual super strength. Tony allowed himself to be herded back into the house and into the room they were meant to be sharing.
The bed called to Tony like a siren and he feel into it face first. He hummed, please, as he cuddled a pillow to his face. “Ah, soft bed, how I love thee.” He heard White Song move about the room for a moment before he felt her weight settle against his side, the bed dipping under her weight. Sleep began tugging him down, but he forced his eyes open, forced his mouth to move.
“I’ve seen Iron Dust use Essence, but never you. What does your Essence look like?”
She snorted again. “Iron Dust trusts you too much.” She curled onto her side. “Silver, like the moon and just as elusive as a moon on water. Sleep now.”