His workshop looks exactly as he remembers it. A half-welded piece of armour intended for his new suit is still lying on the workbench, and the tools from the box that he accidentally knocked over the last time he was in here but never got around to cleaning up are still littering the floor.
Loki has changed nothing in here. There are no weird Asgardian ornamentations or altered colour schemes. It's all like it's supposed to be. The only part of his tower that has truly felt like home since his return here.
Of course, his suits are gone. But he already had expected that, so it doesn't really count.
He remains standing on the spot for a little while, breathing in the familiar smells of motor oil and welded metal. His mood is already lifting, despite how he hasn't actually done anything productive yet.
Not even Loki's voice behind him does much to ruin his high spirits.
"Keep in mind that Jarvis will be monitoring everything you do in here. You are not allowed to work on anything else than the arc reactor for now," he says, walking around so he can face Tony. The god looks so terribly out of place in his fantasy medieval outfit surrounded by all the high-end tech in here, but Tony can keep from laughing.
"Got it," he acknowledges with a nod.
"If you lack anything needed to build the reactor, you may tell Jarvis and he will convey it to me." Loki picks up a circuit board lying on the workbench with two fingers and lifts it up to study it with laser-like concentration. Then, with a minute tensing of his hand, he snaps the little piece in half, his eyes going up to meet with Tony's. "I should think I don't need to tell you the consequences of you trying any form of… sabotage or the like," he intones, voice calm as if he were talking about taking his Chihuahua for a walk in the park.
Just you wait, buddy.
"Wouldn't dream of it," Tony says. "I'm a smart guy, not suicidal, okay?"
Loki makes no reply to that, but the look in his eyes is hard, as if he doesn't trust Tony one bit. Well, in that case, the god shouldn't have let him in here in the first place.
"Are there any further supplies or materials you need to get started?" Loki eventually asks. "Or is your workshop well-enough equipped?"
"I'm good for now, I think."
"Very well. I will remain in the tower for a couple of more hours today, so you have that time to begin your work," Loki says, his fingers playing with the broken circuit board pieces. "And while I am in no particular hurry to have the reactor finished, I still don't expect you to be dawdling in here, Stark. Use your time productively."
Yeah, he definitely plans to do that.
"Don't worry. I'm a hard worker, once I get started."
"I will leave you to it, then." With that, the god turns to leave and heads for the door.
"Uh, Loki?" Tony says. "One question, if you will?"
Loki stops, but he only turns around halfway, as if he suspects that whatever Tony is going to ask isn't going to be worth the bother.
He takes a deep breath. "Okay, one thing I've been meaning to ask you – why did you pick my tower as your personal residence on Earth? It's not an official building or anything, or even situated in the capital of the good old US of America. Why haven't you had, I don't know, like a palace or something built? Or taken over one already in existence?" He makes a semi-apologetic hand gesture. "Alright, so we don't have any real palaces here in America, but there are lots of countries that do. I mean, I know my tower is awesome and all, but it doesn't have the whole gold-and-spires thing going for it. Heck, it doesn't even have a moot. I figured you already got the crown and the throne and the sceptre, so why not a real palace too, as would befit a king?" He finally stops to catch his breath, watching Loki's face intently, but the god doesn't seem like he's particularly irritated by the barrage of questions, though.
"Your tower suited my needs," Loki replies simply. "It is the most secure building in all of Midgard, which I am sure that you – as Jarvis' designer – are well aware of, even if it's not very… aesthetically pleasing. But such concerns are of little importance for the moment."
"Security reasons, huh?" Yeah, that figures, considering that there is surely no one on this planet running a higher risk of an assassination attempt than Loki. Though, how do you even assassinate a god?
"So you're planning to camp out here for your remaining time in office, then?"
Loki snorts. "Hardly. I will eventually have a proper palace built in Midgard that will, as you put it, befit a king. But as of now, I have many more pressing issues to deal with than comforts and luxury."
"Yeah, speaking of which, don't kings normally have servants and other helpful people running around? Someone to shine their shoes and pour them beer and stuff?"
"Someone skilled in magic needs no personal attendants," Loki says haughtily, drawing himself up a little. "However, I have taken many humans into my direct employment to fill other practical and administrative functions that a king needs support with in order to efficiently rule his realm. Still, none of those functions include tending to my garments or serving me drinks."
Direct employment. He wonders if those poor souls on Loki's payroll – if they get paid at all – are all mind-controlled zombies, or otherwise got pressured into it.
He has to ask.
"You used the sceptre on them, didn't you?"
At that, Loki gives a broad smile, the amusement going all the way up to his eyes. "No, Stark. As hard as you might find it to believe, it has not been difficult to recruit volunteers willing to enter my service." He leans back against the workbench, looking as arrogant as ever. "Which is as it should be. Serving the king is an honour, and only the best are worthy. Why should people not clamour for the privilege inherent in such a position? There is no mind-control necessary for that."
Traitors. But there are always opportunists willing to take advantage of any situation, aren't there?
He crosses his arms, not wanting to think about those of his fellow humans who are – at least according to the crazy son of a bitch lazily lounging in front of him – fawning for the great honour of aiding the enemy after he just attacked their planet and killed countless of people. As if they've already forgotten everything, or never cared in the first place.
Then again, maybe he isn't one to talk, given the first-class opportunist he used to be himself not that many years ago, thriving on chaos and destruction.
"Then what about those two SHIELD guys you used to keep around? Given their baby-blues, they didn't look very much like volunteers to me." He realizes that he hasn't seen them since they dropped him off here and he hasn't spared their fate even a thought until now.
Loki merely shrugs, as if that's not important. Which it of course isn't, to him. "Ah, those two. Yes, I urgently needed a couple of helpers to handle a few things after my victory in New York, so that was the easiest way. But I have since gotten rid of them. I no longer had any need for them."
"You killed them, you mean." His words are spoken calmly enough, but there is still anger simmering beneath at how callously Loki is speaking about those agents that he clearly murdered in cold blood.
Loki even has the gall to look amused. "No. I released them from their trance and let them go, once their services were no longer needed. A king does not needlessly kill his subjects without a good reason."
Tony blinks, not having expected that. Then again, it's the god of lies and deceit speaking here, so maybe he's just making shit up. Maybe he killed those guys anyway, despite what he's claiming. Not that Tony will ever know if they're happily back home – if they still got one – playing with their kids or rotting in some back alley.
"So why haven't you turned humanity into droves of mind-controlled zombies yet?" he asks instead, silently praying that's not Loki's long-term plan. Not that he's been outside to observe for himself if the eye colour of the general populace has changed lately, but the people he's seen on TV have all looked like what Tony assumes their normal selves look like. Not even the prime ministers and presidents occasionally flickering by seemed to be under any undue influence.
Does Loki really expect to be able to keep humanity in check without his glow-stick?
Apparently, he's said something funny again, because Loki gives a little snicker. "You think that is how I intend to rule Midgard?" he snorts, shaking his head. "What is the point of that? What kind of king would have to mind-control his subjects to be assured of their fealty?" He stands up, walking a slow circle around Tony. "No. Midgard will willingly bow beneath my rule and acknowledge me as its rightful king. I will have loyalty and obedience and faithfulness because my subjects will freely offer it, not by means of cheating."
"But by taking it by force?" He's probably tripping on dangerous territory here, but if Loki is going to bitch-slap him for it again, so be it.
Loki's voice is lower now, as he stops behind Tony to half-speak, half-whisper into his ear. And Tony really wishes the god would stop doing that, because it's really fucking creepy.
"That's how all kingdoms are taken, Stark. Or made. As for the rest, it will follow eventually."
Maybe he shouldn't push it, but Loki hasn't flown off the handle yet, so he might as well. "And how do you expect to win the favour of a people whose world you've ripped apart, whose families you've killed? People who no longer have anywhere to live or any means of providing for themselves after the Chitauri destroyed their cities? How are you going to fix that, Loki?" he asks, not moving an inch, despite the unease crawling up his skin at having the god standing so close behind him.
"Oh, I'm in no hurry," Loki says, walking around to face Tony again. "You forget, you humans are short-lived, whereas I will live for thousands of years yet. Perhaps those alive today will always harbour resentment in their hearts, despite what silver lies their mouths are speaking, wishing for the old world order to return. However, in a few generations' time," – he sweeps out with his hand to indicate nothing in particular – "this will be normal. Your children will know me as their rightful ruler from the day they are born. They will learn to worship their king and teach their own children to do the same. Those who are still longing for the days of old will be seen as nothing but deluded nostalgics. Eventually, all of humanity will accept their natural state and be grateful for their strong and powerful leader. I have time. I have patience. And one day, Midgard's true loyalty will be mine."
Fuck, Loki is sounding like one of those deluded sect leaders. And it's ironic, the way he's claiming to find it distasteful to use the brainwash stick to control people, but has no qualms influencing them in more subtle ways, so that future generations will be indoctrinated from birth to properly fawn over His Royal Alien Greatness.
"And until that happens, you're going to be camping in here?" Yeah, there go his hopes of ever getting his tower back. Not that he was ever counting on it, but still.
"I will stay for as long as is necessary," Loki says with a nonchalant shrug. Then, as if he can read in Tony's face what he's thinking – and he probably can – he continues. "However, do not think that you will ever have your tower back. Like I said, you are mine and in my service now, and I intend to keep you, Stark."
Ugh. Not even that crazy art critic he had brought home some five years ago from a vernissage had been that possessive, even if he had barely managed to get her out of the door the next morning and had to go to court afterwards to get a restraining order.
Well, there's no arguing with a lunatic, he supposes. Unfortunately, it seems like he won't be getting a courtly restraining order this time around, though.
"Will there be anything else, Stark?" Loki says with a hint of impatience. "Or do you have all the information needed to begin your work on the arc reactor?"
He's got everything alright.
"I'll manage," he says, feeling a sudden urge to have Loki get out of there so he can finally be alone in his own workshop.
"Good. Then there is nothing keeping you from getting started." Green eyes are boring into him like needles, sharp and pointed. "And, again, keep in mind that Jarvis will be monitoring you at all times."
Yeah, getting spied on by his own creation. Lovely.
"I'll remember that."
And then, Loki is gone, having teleported away. Tony draws a heavy sigh of relief. As shitty as the circumstances are, at least he's here in his workshop, the best position he's been in since those goddamn Chitauri descended from their hole in the sky. But he doesn't linger too long on the feeling; he has work to do, after all.
Building the reactor will be easy, but adding some sort of discreet up-grade, and doing it unnoticed too, will be a lot harder.
But he has time to figure it out.
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