New Chapter! Enjoy my lovelies!
As the days progressed, Tony became bored enough to burst. He assessed the layout of the prison for what felt like the thousandth time, but it was always the same three walls with an extra one that was barred. If only he wasn't so curious and stupid enough to want to stay and figure the place out. Now, without his Iron Man suit, he was left defenseless and like a, well, tiresome human being. He was so much more awesome with the red and gold shining metal around his gallant form.
The only thing he could think of was when the guards opened the cage to pass him his breakfast, lunch, and supper of stale brown bread and soup. On a luckier occasion, he'd have a good piece of meat along with it, even if it was slightly overcooked, chewy and likely days old.
As he received his meals, he'd gauge the strength of the knights, the exit or even the length it would take for him to escape. He was confident in his abilities in breaking out, hello he was a genius! However, the mere thought of going up against the burly guard men would leave him feeling hollow. Perhaps before he was so carelessly left in the cage, left to weaken, he would have considered clashing with the assholes.
The way it turned out, however, he was caught between a rock and a hard place. He could attempt running away, with the chance of getting killed or executed later on in the process. Or, somehow manage to escape, but then getting trapped in the land of "What-The-Hell-Is-This-Place" without his suit, then dying anyway. Or as a last option, getting out, find his Iron Man suit, maybe find a hot woman or man to fuck, eat whatever his stomach could hold, and somehow find a way back to Earth to kill that motherfucker Loki.
The last one may be a bit of a long stroke, he liked to be optimistic.
And as he dwelled in his bleak, depressing, feeble thoughts, the sound of the bars opening was unheard, and it came to a surprise when a hand clamped down on his shoulder, jerking him out of his hating judgements.
He shifted his lowered eyes, covered by his drooping eyelids, up to the newcomer that had appeared in his cell. It seemed as if the man before him was higher class, not like the lowly guards from his cell, but more like one of the king's own personal posy people.
"My Grace wishes to see you know." The man said emotionlessly. Tony frowned and considered whether or not to be difficult. This could mean life or death, and he didn't know if he should take the chance.
"Why should I? What does he want me for?" He asked, crossing his arms defiantly. The knight looked surprised for just a second, before composing his features and grabbing Tony by the upper arm, hauling him to his feet. Tony stumbled up with the movement, protest at the end of his tongue.
"You will not ask questions." The man growled.
Guess I wouldn't have had a choice anyway. Should have known, they did throw me in a fucking prison for simply showing up.
He was tugged out of the room, his arms forcefully held behind his back, twisted painfully. He fumbled with his steps, cheeks clouding in embarrassment as the other's standing guard laughed at his expanses. He didn't stop himself from glaring at them, his eyes narrowed menacingly, despite his position. One of them noticed this and punched him hard in the gut, causing Tony to cough and lean over as much as possible in the sturdy hold. The taste of metal was deep in his throat and he grimaced. Another bout of laughter passed through the gathered men, and Tony was relieved once they walked (more like tumbled and struggled) through the heavy stone door.
He was walked through the same part of the castle he came in from. The desire for a mirror was overwhelming; he could feel his greasy hair flopping over his eyes (it having grown out), and the dirt sticking to his skin. With the sunlight shining through, he could finally see himself, though his arms were trapped behind his back so he couldn't take a glance at his hands. But with a look at his white and black costume, he knew he must be as grimy as he felt. The white was stained to almost the colour of the black, it was shredded at a couple places he must have caught against a rock, or even tinkered with out of boredom. If he tilted his chin just enough (without the guard violently wrenching his hair to have him looking straight), he could see the top of his chest and a nipple peeking out through the ripped fabric.
If he weren't so dirty, he would have used his state of dishevelment somehow against Jaime. However, he was sure he didn't look as appealing as he once did, and definitely not compared to his billionaire days.
He was taken, once again, inside the throne room, where the court was waiting for him. The king and his queen were perched on the stone chairs (is everything made out of stone and steel here?), the high born seated lower, but closer than the regular people of the crowd. From the corner of his eye, he saw Jaime standing proudly beside the king's chair, white cloak bellowing behind him. His gaze was evidently on Tony while he was dragged into the room. The billionaire wanted to express his anger from the mocking smirk that came over the blonde's face as he saw him.
Bran was also there, though more hidden. He rolled his eyes when he saw him trudged behind a group of females whispering gossip to each other, their dresses covering most of the small boy. The only way he was actually noticeable to Tony was that he didn't want to be hidden. He was jumping around and sneaking around the gathered lace. They were probably afraid Tony would influence the kid to… what? Beat up the giant holding him up? Ya, that was the best plan ever.
As he was walked slowly into the room, conversation slowly stopped until the last voice went out when he reached the dais. The king stared down his fat nose, eyes apprehensive. They roamed over his frail body, his hollow cheeks and (likely) sleep exhausted black bags to wave away the knight aggressively clasping his arms.
Once the man let go, Tony dragged his sore limbs in front of him, looking critically at his pale skin, grime covering every white surface, and made a face, trying worthlessly to wipe off some of the filth. A cough interrupted his actions, but Tony, too pissed to fucking care anymore, ignored the warning.
He just had to be himself, didn't he?
A kick to the back of the knee jerked his head to look straight up at the king, a gasp weakly pressed through his chapped lips. He twisted sideways to glare menacingly at the amused guard, who lifted his hand as if he was warning him, if he didn't listen, he would be getting more than a mere kick. Tony spun back quickly, frown still gracing his face, to face the big man once again. Protest and insults were plainly said through his eyes. He didn't know whether to count himself lucky that the king was to stupid to notice any of these hostile signs.
"Man!" He began, to be immediately interrupted.
"Tony, my name is Tony." More whispers crossed the crowd at his "rude" declaration. Jaime was smiling though, Tony could very well be his daily entertainment.
"Do not interject Craven! I should have your head speared on a stake, hung atop the walls, but I was convinced to be… forgiving." He waited, waving in a gesture to let Tony know it was okay to talk. Now that he had a cue, Tony was more than happy to not ask anything.
He was fucking pissed. And a livid Tony meant a rebellious Tony.
When he didn't respond in turn, simply crossing his arms defiantly, the king sighed, as if he knew that would happen, deciding to let the action go for once.
"Dear Bran has spoken with you. He had come up with some valid arguments. Other people have also spoken for your side. Explaining the lack of things you did wrong. Your disruptive talk could have gotten you dead in no time, but because the way you saved Bran, I am interested in you, and that metal armor. Your insults to me could be ignored, if you would come with me, to King's Landing, and build me these… suits you make."
Tony had no idea what to say, his mouth was gaping open and his mind absolutely blank. This was the last thing he'd thought the man would say. King's Landing… was that the real royal place. Was that where Jaime lived? Fuck, he didn't get to seduce the asshole! How was he going to get awesome sex now…
He was just stupid, hell ya he was going if he could somehow have a better way to gain the Kingslayer's charm and trust, well, enough for him to desire fucking him (and not be afraid of the whole guy guy thing. But, he did sex it up with his sister…)
Usually that would turn him off, but hell the guy was to die for.
And now, Tony seriously doubted his sanity. He was going to base a decision on his own libido? To have sex? Was he this desperate? This sick? Sad?
"When do we go?"
Oh Shit! It's getting somewhere :P Hope ya'll fave and review!
