Chapter Text
Tony couldn’t help it; he laughed.
He laughed at the blood pooling into his lungs and painting the floor in crimson.
He laughed at his hopes, the silly things. He had wanted to be accepted, to be loved, by one who Howard actually cared about. What foolish notions he had! As if anything Howard adored could ever actually give a shit about him. He was everything Howard hated, and he should do well to remember that.
He laughed at his hatred for his father, which should have lessened with the truth about his parents’ death coming to light, but instead simply darkened for trying to recreate his best creation instead of caring for the family he had right in front of him.
He laughed and laughed through the blood and the coughs. It’s not like anyone could see him here anyway.
He listened to Wilson. He came as a friend, came alone. Told no one where he was going. Forbade FRIDAY from reaching out to others, because he wanted to do one thing right by Rogers. He wanted to be praised and liked. He wanted to be enough.
He laughed because he should have known that he would never be enough.
He laughed because he couldn’t die when he had attempted himself, and instead, in trying to find a life worth living, death found him.
He laughed until he couldn’t breathe any longer, and the ice froze his eyes open as the warmth faded from his body and the cold took over.
–
Aeythn opened his eyes in a familiar room, laying in front of an icy blue fire. As he tried to sit up, a deer with small bumps where antlers should be softly pressed their forehead to his in a gentle ‘bonk’, then backed up and laid down in a nest of blankets off to the side. He missed this, and he took a few moments to simply breathe without a mangled chest from the arc reactor and all the consequent surgeries. To breathe with lungs that weren’t damaged from the palladium poisoning. To exist in a body without chronic aches. To see the beauty around him instead of the dread and anguish that lurked in every corner in his mortal life. He heard the sound of fabric shifting, and turned to see his Winter Mother, smiling at him as she approached.
“Aeylly, welcome home.”
“I’m home, Mother.” Aeythn smiled at her nickname for him. He didn’t know that was something he had missed fiercely, but he felt the relief and comfort coming from it all the same. She was wearing one of her intricate dresses, as always, with a crown formed from ice resting on her bright white hair. Ribbons of ice were incorporated in almost all of her braids, as well as snowflakes and ice flowers around her crown. Her irises were one of his favorite things about her; the blues of all values forever shifting based on her emotions never failed to enchant him. Right now they were a strong, light blue, depicting her happiness at his return.
She sat beside him, and ran her fingers through his hair that came down to his hips, starting the process of setting the braids. A small burst of cold air came from beside her, and he saw the bowl of familiar beads and other hair ornaments that decorated him as Aeythn.
“I did not like watching your fragile life this time, dearest.” He couldn’t see her, but he could feel the frown in her words. Her fingers didn’t portray her sadness, keeping consistent pressure while the braids formed.
“I don’t think I liked living it, Mother. I’ve lived many fragile lives, and this one was particularly…” he trailed off, unsure of the exact word he was wanting.
“Brutal? Cruel? Lonely? Twisted?” Her anger was starting to rise and affect the air around them. He couldn’t fault her, because when he thought about his life as Tony Stark from the eyes of Aeythn, he could see how badly his human self was treated. He could also see the red edges of those memories and how they had been tainted by the corrupt magic of the witch.
“All of those, and so much more. I felt so strongly, more than I ever have as a human, and I wasn’t even able to feel much happiness. Tony Stark learned young that affection was to be fought for and that there was an ulterior motive to every action. He and I never even fully trusted our brother in all but blood, who helped us through everything life threw our way.” He was running on the line between anguished and enraged, every second forward switching between the two.
His mother started another braid then, from his temple, and he focused on the feelings of her fingers through his hair instead of past wrongs. “You know they still need you. Not those who have betrayed you in particular, but the fragile ones you adore so much. Maybe even all of us, all living things… the Mad Titan rages and destroys even as we speak, searching for more power in the corners of reality. Like you brought the two large powers of Trollehri to peace, so you must with the Titan and the End.”
He wanted to sigh and curl up in his mother’s lap for a century-long rest, but knew that she wouldn’t be saying such things unless they were relevant. “I’m staying with Rhodey and my actual precious ones, though. I refuse to accept wrongdoings done to my person or people. They are past the chances of Spring, and should they push their limits they will find Autumn draining their lives.”
“You will take care of yourself, Aeylly. They will need you functioning to be of help.”
He sat in silence for the rest of her braiding, soaking in the comfort, affection, and familiarity of his surroundings. Winter always welcomed him from his fragile lives, and it was where he learned the ways of reality, of existence. Winter gives way into Spring, and paves the path for new beginnings.
“I’ve spoken to Summer while you rested. She is not waiting for you to visit, and expects you to return to the upper world promptly instead. I wish I could hold you a little longer, dearest.” He could feel the sadness in her voice, feel it in her aura and the air around them.
“Simply visit as time allows, Mother. You are always welcome in my lands.”
“Be safe, Aeylly.”
“Be safe, Winter Mother.”
With those departing words, he called forth a torrent of air to bring him back to Siberia, where the empty armor lay. He felt his mother’s snow follow him, and left a few leaves and petals behind for her. Sure, he was returning to the nightmare, but this time he had the power to lead the dream instead of the dream leading him.
A part of him smiled at the potential destruction waiting to follow his new beginning.
The two were forever intertwined, after all.