Tony strode into the living room, his destination already in mind. He made his way over to his custom bar and reached up to grab his favorite glass, setting it down on the granite countertop. Gods know I need a drink, he thought. He bent over to get a bottle from his cooler, when he suddenly glanced up. Was it just his imagination, or did he hear something? Out of the corner of his eyes, he could have sworn he saw a pair of emerald green eyes glittering mischievously at him from across the expansive living room, but when he blinked, they were gone. He relaxed and poured himself a glass of ice-cold whiskey. Just my imagination. He grabbed his glass and walked over to his picture window, looking out over the vastness that was New York City. Tony could see the construction taking place throughout Manhattan from their extraterrestrial visit six months ago. Of course, the city forced Tony to help pay for repairs, although he pointed out that if they wanted to sue someone, they could sue the Norse God that actually destroyed it. No such luck.
He wasn't surprised that he was imagining things, considering. The briefing at SHIELD headquarters today had struck an emotion in Tony that he hadn't felt since the battle for the city six months ago. Fear. Loki had escaped from his maximum-security cell on Asgard, leaving five guards dead and an additional five injured. Despite the best efforts of multiple realms to track him, no trace had been found of the God of Mischief. Fantastic. There's a crazed, revenge-seeking supervillain on the loose in the universe. Again.
Tony stiffened suddenly, sensing a presence behind him. He heard a sinister chuckle, and a cold, sharp blade slid into place around his neck.
"Hello Stark. Remember me?" purred a dreadfully familiar voice into his ear.
"I don't know," Tony choked out. "Are you one of my many adoring fans?"
The voice growled. "Think harder if you value your life." The knife pressed deeper into Tony's throat, drawing a few ruby drops.
Tony nodded, now unable to speak.
"Good. Then you know what I am capable of. You will come with me, and will not say a word or fight, or you will suffer a long, excruciating death," hissed the voice.
Tony nodded cautiously once again, and felt the knife disappear. He released the breath he hadn't realized he was holding, and turned to face the God of Mischief. Loki smiled maliciously at him, and then shoved him forward. Tony began walking as Loki directed him to the elevator. Loki pressed the button for the 95th floor, the helipad floor.
A voice came on over one of the many hidden computers and speakers throughout Stark Tower.
"Sir, would you like me to call SHIELD for assistance?" asked JARVIS suddenly, and in a flash, Loki had his knife at Tony's throat again.
"Choose wisely, Stark," murmured Loki.
"No, Jarvis, I'm fine." Loki pressed ever so slightly with the knife, and Tony continued on with sickening understanding. "Erase all records of the past half hour, and do not alert anyone as to who was here, or where I am," Tony choked out, and the knife was removed.
Though Loki was behind him, Stark could almost see him smirking.
"Good choice."
When the elevator doors opened, Loki dragged Tony down the short hallway and out the door to the helipad. Tony stopped abruptly, in awe of the sight before him. The sleek black helicopter was the largest Tony had ever seen aside from the helicarrier, taking up most of the rooftop space. Loki growled and dragged him forward, breaking his focus. Loki hauled Tony up the steps into the back of the helicopter, and flung him to the ground. Loki grinned, and his scepter materialized in his hand in place of the knife, which Tony could see was covered in Norse runes. Loki strode over to Tony and clapped his hands to Tony's temple, and the world swirled into nothingness.
Tony awoke in a small amount of pain, noting bruises on his hips, elbows and knees, indicating that he had fallen or been thrown to the ground. He also noticed that he was missing a shirt. At least I still have my pants! he thought, thankful for some protection from the chill of the room.
"JARVIS, what happened?" No response. "JARVIS?"
Tony opened his eyes, and found himself in an unfamiliar room made of solid stone, with no doors or windows. What the hell? All of a sudden, his memory came rushing back. The threats. The kidnapping. Loki. Oh, shit. I'm in the clutches of a madman. This'll be fun. Tony, too tired to move just yet, glanced around his cell. There was a metal chair in the corner, and Tony thought he could see a table in his peripheral vision, although he couldn't tell what was on it. He tilted his head slightly, and caught sight of a pair of manacles hanging from the ceiling about 3 feet from the nearest wall. Fantastic. The only light he could see was coming from a single bright light bulb in the middle of the room. Tony felt the temperature drop further, and heard Loki's voice from behind him.
"Already awake, I see. How do you like your new, well," Loki gestured grandly around the dungeon.
Tony, disliking this feeling of vulnerability lying on the floor with his back to his captor, began to stand up. He started to roll over and was on his hands and knees when a boot slammed into his ribs, kicking him onto his back. Tony gasped in an attempt to catch his breath, and the boot appeared on his neck. He began to struggle to breathe as the boot pressed down, giving him tunnel vision.
"Where do you think you're going, Stark?"
Tony flopped over and managed to catch a fleeting glimpse of Loki's smirking face as he blacked out for a second time.
When Tony awoke again, he was strapped to the cold, metal chair he had seen earlier. This time, however, instead of immediately reacting, Tony kept his eyes shut and listened carefully for any sign of Loki. He didn't hear any breathing aside from his own, so he opened his eyes. Tony glanced around the room and, not seeing anyone, relaxed. He bent his head to examine his bonds; solid metal with no apparent opening mechanism, and too tight to squeeze out of. Ah, well. He didn't think Loki would be that careless anyways. Tony also noticed that there were armrests to the chair, but no back. Interesting. Tony leaned his head back and tried to mentally ready himself for the tortures that were sure to follow Loki's return. Tony suddenly felt a rush of cool air brush his ear, and a voice whispered, "You recover fast."
Tony jumped, and Loki laughed, materializing in front of Tony. Loki was dressed similarly to the way Tony remembered him from the fight several months ago, in his black, green and gold armor and his sparkling staff, as well as his ridiculous golden hat.
"Hey, Reindeer Games. I see you found the Glowstick of Destiny again." Loki's cool smile fell, and his jaw twitched in irritation, but he remained silent. He stared at Tony for an uncomfortably long moment, and then began circling Tony like a vulture, considering him from all angles.
"You like?" jabbed Tony after about a minute. Abruptly Loki stopped behind Tony, and Tony felt cool metal press against his back between his shoulder blades. Tony stopped moving, suddenly painfully conscious of his position as a captive. Tony winced as the blade of the scepter dragged down his spine, leaving a long cut dripping blood down the center of his back. Loki returned to the front of Tony and smiled. Tony muttered under his breath.
"Asshole"
Loki's scepter dropped to the floor with an ominous clang, and he strode forward, until his face was threateningly close to Tony's.
"What?" he growled, his cool breath slapping Tony's face.
"I said, asshole," replied Tony, smirking in spite of himself. Loki's hand flew up and coiled itself around Tony's neck and began squeezing, stopping just short of cutting off Tony's air.
"You would do well to remain quiet and respectful to your captor, given your current position," Loki hissed into Tony's ear.
"Respect? You?" asked Tony, feigning disbelief. "Why would I respect a psychotic murderer?"
Loki's free hand slid backwards, and the scepter flew into his hand. With a quick breath in Norse, Loki transformed the scepter into a sparkling diamond dagger.
"Because you are my prisoner," Loki replied, stoking the side of Tony's face with the knife almost lovingly, his hand still tight around his neck. Loki pressed forwards, and the chair tipped back, Tony's feet scrambling desperately to catch grip on the stone floor.
"Tell me, Stark, why I shouldn't kill you right now. You, the 'genius' Tony Stark, the Man of Iron, at the mercy of your worst enemy. You who…"
Tony cut Loki off. "Don't flatter yourself with the 'greatest enemy' thing. I've seen better."
Loki growled and continued. "You, who ruined my great plans for mankind. I have every power over you, why shouldn't I kill you?"
"Because I'm too lovable to straight up kill?" choked out Tony.
Loki sneered, and plunged the knife into Tony's thigh. Tony bit back a scream as Loki forced the blade deeper, twisting it agonizingly into the nerves.
"Actually, it would be a waste to kill you, Stark. You have too much heart to kill. I will simply break your will, taking revenge for every grievance your group of 'heroes' has caused. And then, you will be mine to command as I please. Imagine what I could do with the great Iron Man at my disposal," Loki whispered softly.
Tony could imagine, and it was nothing good. And his situation continued to get worse. There was nothing he could bargain with, no information to tease the god with. Loki already had what he wanted, or would soon, if Tony broke. He couldn't let that happen.
He felt the bloodied knife slide out of his leg, and as he felt the blood rushing out, Tony let out a small gasp, unable to do anything else from the shock. Loki wiped the knife on Tony's chest, and, smiling sadistically, he released Tony's throat and let the chair back down. He muttered in Norse again, and the knife transformed back into his terrible scepter. He leaned close again.
"You will break, Tony Stark. And I will enjoy every second, every blistering moment of it." Loki vanished, and Tony finally hung his head. He was screwed.