Loki loved London, of course.
The city stretched out before him was nothing like New York, yet it was similar enough that the god had enjoyed immensely looking for the differences in the sights and sounds, contrasting the two cities. London carried an energy, a depth that he hadn't found in New York's rhythm, this enigmatic place, the hustle about the town, the foggy skies and cold rain of late November, and the hints of color that popped up as the city prepared for the upcoming festivities for a seasons of festivities that Tony had told him about. (Supposedly there had been a god born of man who had died and many Midgardians still celebrated his birth? It was all so esoterically strange to Loki.)
And now on the continued slow progression up into the sky high above the River Thames, Loki stood at the windows, one hand resting on the railing as he looked as far as the eye could see. The sun would set soon, marking the end of their first week in this strange city, and Loki looked out to see the landmarks he could recognize from his reading. Big Ben. Westminster. Buckingham, which supposedly was a palace and Tony had forbidden him from visiting despite its historic significance, in light of the fact that the monarch of this nation resided within its walls. Even further he thought he could make out the top of the obelisk that had its twins in New York and another Midgardian city.
This contraption that Tony had rented out for the evening, the gigantic ferris wheel that rotated on the southern bank of the river, moved slow enough for Loki to observe quietly the sights of the city from a pale glass pod, and Loki let himself smile despite it all. Tony bumped his shoulder and Loki glanced over to find the mortal handing him a glass filled with scotch. The god smiled, sniffing first the aroma before taking a sip. Apparently, renting out the entirety of the London Eye without ordering beverages or meals delivered as well was far above and beyond a courtesy that the British were capable of, and when Tony and Loki arrived for their exclusive rental, there had been several bottles of the finest and glassware awaiting them.
"Must we return to New York soon?" Loki asked, as he leaned his forehead against the cool glass to look down at the river, where the tides were slowly rolling in.
"Afraid so, Cupcake. I need to stop by my London R&D office for a few days, but after that we should probably head back," Tony snorted, "probably before Fury sends Nat to collect us. You like it here? Better than New York?"
Loki shrugged, before he took a sip of his scotch.
"Huh." Tony smiled, "Wasn't expecting that."Which, Loki smirked, was the understatement of the hour. London had been nothing like Loki expected. From the first moment when he and Tony had arrived, the air chillier than New York and a private car waiting to whisk the pair away from Tony's private jet (which, if Bruce were to be believed, Tony's private jet was unlike anything that ordinary mortals experienced when traveling such distances, both in comfort and speed), to arriving at the hotel penthouse—where Loki finally learned what the number of stars Tony willingly slept under meant—Loki had seen more of this part of Midgard in a few days than he'd seen from the windows of Tony's tower in four months.
And Tony had relished the opportunity to venture out. He'd taken Loki to restaurants, on an official first date (as Tony described the concept, but it seemed silly to Loki, all things considered), and escorted the god from historical site to site when he wasn't holed up working on the HERB Jam with Foster.
It wasn't that Tony was any less recognizable in London; no, it seemed that there were more cameras here than in New York, and Loki had caught sight of their photos in at least three publications since their arrival, but the difference was in how the population of this city treated him. In New York, countless times Loki had seen or heard of Tony being trailed by the media, or Tony would return from a brisk walk looking hounded, and out of breath as though he'd sprinted to escape. Romanova had mentioned that New Yorkers felt particularly brash about asking for Stark's autograph, really the autograph of any of the Avengers. Which alone was a strange concept, because why would a Midgardian without magic desire the signed name of any of its heroes? For what purpose could it be used? Loki's inquiries on the internet had labeled such things collectors items, and Loki had briefly wondered if the Collector collected signatures for any nefarious purpose, but he couldn't think of any.
But in London, the people let Tony be. Sure, the cameras followed him, and he was fairly certain that there was at least one image of he and Tony holding hands as they strolled the grounds of Hyde Park, but the staff at the high-end establishments were more than willing to isolate the pair, protecting them from the cameras and providing privacy of a sort Loki wasn't sure Tony experienced as frequently in New York. After even a few days in London, Loki had noticed how much more relaxed Tony was, how much calmer he slept at night.
Maybe it wasn't that he preferred London, but rather that he preferred Tony in London, less tense without his normal obligations, and seemingly alleviated of some of his concerns.
A few minutes later, Loki clarified: "It's not perhaps that I like it better than New York, but rather that I've been permitted to experience more of this place. I've kept to the tower in New York, mostly. And the city treats you differently, more like a famous eccentric that has stopped by rather than their own personal public property."
Tony hummed, and Loki knew that sound, knew it meant the mortal was thinking of something, but he couldn't bring himself to worry about it now. Soon it would be dark, and Loki wanted to see the city lights, see how London looked as night fell, as this planet rotated away from the light (and what a strange concept for someone who had grown up on Asgard). He was recovering, he supposed, if the sight of stars and night sky, even away from the bright flames of the bonfire a few weeks ago, had ceased to frighten him.
It hadn't been entirely enjoyable, of course.
Meeting the woman that Thor had befriended and her colleagues had been, at best, unpleasant. Loki closed his eyes briefly, trying to remember the indignant look upon her face when Tony caught her arm before she could slap Loki, while her assistant in the background had pulled out her phone and began hooting, "Fight, fight, fight! Awwww come on Stark, don't ruin the fun!"
And Foster had turned to Loki and spat in his face instead, shouting at him: "That's for New York!"
And Tony, amazing Tony, had laughed, and said, "Jane, he threw me out my own window and I'm fairly certain that we might be dating now. So careful, sweetheart, you can't have all of the Norse gods!"
Tony's arm came around his waist and Loki put his arm across his shoulders, relaxing into the touch as Tony leaned his head on Loki's shoulder. Outside the curved windows, the sun slipped lower across the sky, a bright orange ball that dragged downward and bathed the city in warm light.
Later, when Foster had calmed down and Tony had gotten her to read his report about the portal over New York, she had shuffled from foot to foot and apologized for spitting on him. Loki had inclined his head in the barest of nods, which the infuriating woman had taken as a sign that she was forgiven and free to demand information from Loki.
"Did Thor, um, mention me at all?" she had asked, and Loki remembered blinking like a lost hound, unsure which way to follow the hunt.
"Uh, Jane, maybe we should-" Tony interrupted.
"Because he said he would return, but it's been years."
"I've not spoken on civil terms with Thor since before he managed to get himself banished to this realm, Ms. Foster," Loki hissed. "I wouldn't presume to know what his intentions are now."
"Oh," she sighed, "not even after New York? I mean, he's your brother, right? I know you guys had some sort of issues before, and Thor's friends thought you might have snapped or something, when they arrived in New Mexico, but-"
Loki gaped at her like she'd undertaken to confound him further, as Tony quickly caught his hand and squeezed, almost painfully, rooting the god in place. He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing occurred, and he tried again, but was equally confounded. As though she thought he would be able to even think about what Thor's plans were, when he stood beaten and muzzled and had not slept in years, as though he couldn't comprehend what level of stupidity this mortal possessed to believe those to be important questions, and if that was the case, for what reason had Stark dragged him out here, to this forsaken city on Midgard, if she was so stupid as to pine over that muscle-bound idiot for years, what help could she possibly offer on the HERB Jam?
"He was banished on Midgard for four whole days. Days! Over two years ago!" Loki snapped, and turned his wild gaze to Tony, "Is this normal on Midgard? This… this… infatuation with the unknown, with that which has been only available in so temporary a timeframe? Is it because your lives are so short?"
"Well, we talked a lot in those four days," Jane defended. "And besides, didn't he come back for a few days later on to talk with SHIELD, aren't you still on probation with Asgard? That's what Erik said."
Loki blanched, and Tony put a cautious hand on his shoulder, the mortal's eyes scanning Loki's face and fingers for any signs of blue.
"Jane, uh, maybe you and Darcy should go get us some lunch? We're at a good stopping point, right? Right." Tony said, as he pulled out his wallet and whipped out a black card towards Darcy. "Here kid. Get lost, come back at least an hour from now."
"Yes sir, Mister Stark, sir! Come on Jane, we're not wanted, and we have Tony Stark's Visa Black. How quickly can we get to Mayfair?" Darcy, ever quick on the uptake, had begun dragging Jane out the door, but the scientist apparently was not to be dissuaded.
"What? Why? I'm just trying to understand. He obviously came back again after New York, is there a reason he hasn't returned since then?" Jane demanded.
"Yes," Tony had uncharacteristically snapped, "The bifrost is broken. So Thor only gets sent down for emergencies, and guess who decides what emergencies are? All-Daddy Odin. So I suppose meeting up with his Earth-bound lover is not on the Asgard list of approved emergencies. Sorry, sweetheart."
Jane rolled her eyes at Tony, and pulled her hand out of Darcy's grip. "That's not what I asked. Besides, we were hardly lovers, I mean."
"Yet!" cackled Darcy, before she began chanting something as she pulled Jane again towards the door, the song involving Thor and Jane sitting in a tree for some unknown reason.
"My sincere apologies, Miss Foster," Loki managed, as the words of Darcy's song wafted into his consciousness and his words ceased to fail him, "I had no idea the level of your affections even after all this time. Perhaps when communications between the realms are restored, we will discuss with Director Fury the political implications of seeing to an arranged marriage with the heir to Asgard's throne, as clearly you are willing to make that sacrifice for your realm."
"What!" she had exclaimed, and Loki took pleasure in the dark cackle from her friend Darcy. But Tony had seen the whole thing, and Loki wasn't sure he liked the dark glint in the mortal's eye, as though Loki had accidentally revealed too much about his life on Asgard, as though Loki had said something that Tony wouldn't release until he understood the point, and had dissected it and reassembled it in a way that the mortal could comprehend, or at least live with.
After the troublesome Foster and her sidekick had left with Tony's credit card, Loki had snarled and shoved over a chair and one of the smaller bookshelves, before he sank down on the ratty couch that Darcy convinced Loki and Tony to drag downstairs on the second day after their arrival. And Tony, he had decided the best way to calm Loki's temper was to straddle Loki's lap and kiss the god, his tongue rough and demanding as Loki tried valiantly to resist in a fit of temper, until he relaxed and sighed and clung to the mortal, his hands fisting in the material of Tony's t-shirt, and kissed him back just as forcefully.
It had become apparent very quickly to Loki, that Tony enjoyed reminding him that he was on Midgard, perhaps a bit more often than was strictly necessary, but Loki wasn't one to complain. Not about that, at least.
And most surprising of all, meeting Foster's colleague, the man Loki had used to open the portal for the Chitauri, hadn't been all that terrible. Erik Selvig had arrived on the third day, entering the workshop like a frightened horse as he looked first to where Tony and Foster had situated themselves around the mini HERB Finder backpack before he scanned the room and found Loki sitting on the couch with his StarkTab.
Before Foster or Tony could acknowledge the man, Darcy had called out "Erik!" from across the room, and then added, "Put your pants back on!" and Loki had looked down, underneath the desk between himself and Selvig, to discover that indeed, the mortal had removed his trousers (but thankfully had retained his undergarments).
That, Loki thought, made everything that followed slightly easier to accept.
Selvig had waved off Darcy and Foster's admonishments to replace his trousers, insisting that it helped him to think as he briefly shook Tony's hand (and Tony's eyebrows literally could not go any higher, Loki was amused to note), before the scientist had dragged a chair over to where Loki sat, and demanded to know whether SHIELD knew about The Other and Thanos.
That got Tony's attention, unfortunately, but Loki was still relieved and a bit proud that he didn't dissolve into his Jotun form despite how startled he was by the man's question.
"Doctor Selvig, I-" Loki had hesitated. He hadn't thought that his fears bled through the connection. Had they done so for Barton, or was that connection different, because Loki had used the scepter rather than established it from such a terrible distance (and under more terrifying circumstances)?
"Erik," the scientist corrected, "You were in my head for almost a year, it seems inappropriate to address me formally. Besides, I'm trying to not have an existential crisis here, considering you and Thor were stories in my childhood. I'm not entirely sure this is actually happening, to be honest."
Loki grimaced, "I assure you, this is real. Though many of the stories here on Midgard are not truthful."
Selvig only chuckled, "Sounds like a conversation to be had over pints. But you have told SHIELD, yes? About Thanos?"
"Yes," Tony chimed in, as he came to sit on the arm of the sofa beside Loki, his feet perched on the cushions, "and we're dealing with it, Doctor Selvig. That's partly why we're here, working with Jane on the HERB Jam."
Selvig nodded, then twisted his hands in a nervous gesture. "Good. Good. I don't think I want to know why you fear him, just knowing that you… uh… a God fears him is enough for me. But I had to know. I had to know."
"Selv-," Loki grimaced, "Erik, what else did you see, during our, ah, connection?"
The man grinned, his teeth showing and almost feral, and Loki felt unnerved, as though more of himself from New York had bled through the connection to Selvig than intended.
"I knew you were afraid. I knew you didn't want to win, that you kept pushing at SHIELD, at the Avengers, looking to remove their weaknesses before it was important. I knew you were trying to do something—something else—so you overlooked my design failures, the ones that let Black Widow shut it down with the scepter."
Then the doctor looked up at Foster, and surprise registered in his eyes, and his scowl bled away into a gentle befuddlement.
"I also know that there are certain, ah, aspects of my personality that are not mine up here," Selvig continued, tapping his forehead, "Anger that is not mine. Memories about hunts with Thor, about his friends saying unkind things, things that are not mine to remember. But I'll keep them safe, I won't tell. I understand, you know."
Loki swallowed carefully. "When Asgard returns my seidr, I can help to examine those pathways and restore your own responses. Remove what lingering connection now presently ails you."
Foster looked surprised, and Loki realized she was carrying a pair of trousers for Selvig. The man smiled sheepishly as he looked down again, to realize he was not wearing trousers, and for the second time in ten minutes, repeated "Thanks Jane. But it helps me think, not to have trousers on."
And Loki had sighed, as Selvig stood and wandered away. It was clear that the mortal had been deeply affected by his time under Loki's control, and it was another point of regret, another moment where Loki wondered if it would have been better had he refused, had he let Thanos direct him like a puppet on strings and accepted the coward's death after. But then he'd never have met Tony, never lived. Never let himself understand or accept what this world had tried to show him, again and again.
"You enjoying the view, Snowflake? Because it's sorta better if your eyes are open." Tony said, as the mortal planted a gentle kiss on Loki's jaw, and Loki let his eyes fall open. The Eye had reached the bottom of the circumference again and was on another upward stride; this close, the waves of the Thames were visible, rough and windblown by the cold air outside of the pod.
"My apologies, I am distracted," Loki murmured.
"Oh?" Tony grinned, wagging his eyebrows. "Anything I can help with?"
Loki grinned back, "You already have."