The liquor left a strange taste on Loki's tongue and for a moment he considered spitting it out, before he decided that it would make him appear uncultured. It was still a social gathering, after all. Or, more precisely, something that was conveyed under a guise of a social gathering and Loki wasn't going to be the one to break the illusion. It was only for his benefit for it to continue for as long as it could.
He still refused the second serving, as politely as he could. Midgardian liquor might not be nearly as strong as the spirits the Æsir preferred, but it wouldn't take much in his state to get intoxicated and that would be disastrous for someone in his position. So, Loki smiled, uttered some plausibly sounding excuse and returned to staring out of the window.
He didn't recall the mortal cities being that glamorous when he had visited the realm in the past, but he couldn't say for sure if it was because it changed this much in the last half a century – which seemed to be a considerable amount of time from mortals' perspective – or if the long months in the oppressive, cloying darkness of the Sanctuary lowered his standards. It could be either, or even both at the same time.
Still, it offered quite a view and he allowed himself to just sit there and observe – the illuminated buildings, the shiny rivers of the streets between them pulsing with the headlights of the vehicles moving around, the sky above with a crescent of the Midgardian moon rolling towards the horizon – and for a moment he could even fool himself he was truly just a guest here, stopping for a moment to admire the vistas before moving on, to live the rest of their life… somewhere. Elsewhere. Somewhere far, far away. Somewhere where no one knew his name or what it meant. So, he allowed his mind to wander. As if he wasn't a prisoner and the only thing still waiting for him wasn't the death at the hands of Thanos or his children. Eventually, at least, and he wasn't foolish enough to believe the road leading to it would be any kinder than the taste he had already received. On the contrary. Now, the Mad Titan would have no use for him. The Tesseract was gone and there would be nothing Loki could use as a bargaining chip instead.
"Hey, Merlin, you still with us?"
Loki peeled his gaze from the view behind the glass. Stark was sitting in a previously unoccupied armchair in front of him, waving his hand. His hair was in more disarray than it was a moment ago and his cheeks were flushed.
"Yes. Pardon my slip of attention."
Stark waved his hand dismissively. "It's fine."
"I mean no disrespect to you," Loki said then immediately thought of six better ways to say it. "I'm just… weary."
"I can imagine. By the way, the party presence is not mandatory. You don't have to sit here if you don't want to. No one would mind if you feel like hitting the hay instead."
Loki pursed his lips and studied the mortal for a moment, trying to find the trap in his words, but he couldn't find any.
The mortal smiled knowingly, rousing a wave of anger in Loki's gut.
He swallowed it down. He couldn't let himself any insensible outbursts now, not with the tentative mercy of the mortals around him being the only thing keeping him from the wrath of Director Fury's organization. He could think of many ways his situation could be worse and was adamant to keep his current status for as long as possible. Yes, he was a prisoner, but it was better to be a pampered prisoner in a gleaming tower scratching the sky than in some dark dungeon. It was a lesson he learned centuries ago, and it was only the small bit of pride still residing somewhere in the recesses of his mind that tried claiming otherwise. He was aware, of course, that it couldn't last, he didn't know the rules of this realm, didn't know what was even asked of him yet. He would miss a step, sooner or later, because that was what always had happened…
"You're drifting off again, aren't you?" Stark sneered. "Come on, I'll show you to your room."
With that, Stark got up and beckoned Loki to follow him. Loki took in a long breath and did what he was ordered to do.
He even managed to keep his steps steady, mostly.
The others seemed enthralled by a conversation, so he felt excused from announcing his leave. Besides, that was an instinct of a prince, and he was no longer one. He wasn't a guest of honor here and making a scene of his exit wouldn't follow the proper courtesies, at least in Asgard. He had no idea how it was done here.
There were so many things he didn't know about Midgard.
Stark led him back towards the elevator, and, when they entered, pushed the button for one of the upper floors, prompting Loki to raise an eyebrow. He wasn't sure where exactly his place in the hierarchy of the Stark household was. Something between a slave – if the mortals in this region of the planet still kept slaves, which he was almost certain they did not – and a servant, he supposed. He was a hostage, after all. He didn't exactly expect to be locked up for the night – not like he would be if he found himself in a comparable situation on some other realm of the Nine – since, as far as he knew, he didn't breach the rules of the settlement with Director Fury yet, but the servants' quarters were the best he expected. Those were usually not situated on the upper floors of the abodes.
"What's the problem?" Stark asked.
Loki shook his head and swallowed a sigh. He would find soon enough. Midgard seemed to follow weird rules in many aspects of the social structure, maybe it was the same with their architecture? Perhaps that could mean the room would come with a window, unlike his cabin on the flying ship?
Loki was a big proponent of windows.
There was also a much darker thought trying to sneak its way to the foreground of his mind. There might be a reason why the lord of the manor would want the captive close to their personal quarters. Stark carried himself with an aura of a lenient and cordial man, but that too could be a ruse…
"Is there any reason you're looking at me as if I was about to bite your arm off?" Stark pushed and Loki swallowed the whine that threatened its way out of his throat and forced himself to smile. He needed to control his emotions better. He was usually good at it, but that also suffered due to his exhaustion.
"Excuse me, Mr. Stark, it's not my intent to offend you," he said placatingly
"Why the hell did we go from 'Anthony' to 'Mr. Stark' all of sudden?"
Loki gritted his teeth. He tried to make it right and placate the human with using a proper address and somehow messed it up even more instead. How could he hope to stay clear of Fury's wrath?
"It was an address your assistant used for you, was it not? I assumed that would be the preferred title for your… subordinates to use. If that's incorrect, it was not my intent to…"
"Offend me. Yeah, you keep on saying that," Stark said lightly. He was still smiling but it was a more forlorn kind of smile. "The thing is, I'm not that easy to offend."
Loki inclined his head in thanks for the dispensation Stark was granting him.
"Also, in case you didn't notice, I'm not your boss," the mortal added.
That wasn't what the title was implying, but Loki was glad this was the way the mortal's mind went.
The elevator stopped and the door slid open. The corridor behind it was dark, but the lamps lit up as they stepped out, one by one.
"So, what I'm trying to say… Just call me whatever you want. No need to go for that 'mister' bullshit, m'kay?"
Loki nodded in agreement.
Stark led him to a door a bit further down the hall, then pushed it open.
"Here, your new digs. At least for the night. Or however long you want to stay, really, seeing as SHIELD is not too keen on providing its new employees with any sort of accommodations," he added with a sneer. "But I would ask you to refrain from wrecking my shit up like your big bro did. I don't know if it needs to be said, but if it's some long-standing Asgardian tradition… I'd appreciate it if you didn't. Yeah. Anyway."
He urged Loki inside. Loki stepped in, just to stop one pace beyond the threshold. The lights in the room came on.
The room indeed had a window. Not just one, a whole wall of them, offering an even better view of the city than the communal area downstairs. It was also spacious and quite luxuriously furnished, even by the standards he was used to seeing in Asgard. The style was different, of course, but the fluffy carpet, the big bed and the sitting area by the windows suggested it was designed as a place of comfort.
"Something's wrong?" Stark asked. "I suppose it must not be much compared to the fancy sky palace, but this is the nicest guest room we have here."
"It's… fine," Loki squeezed out. "Thank you, Stark."
Stark grinned at him. "Here you go. If you need anything, just shout out, Jarvis will get it delivered. Within reason, of course."
Loki nodded.
"Great! So, good night then?"
"Good night, Stark."
Stark's grin widened, he waved at Loki and vacated the room, closing the door behind himself. Loki stayed still for a couple of heartbeats, listening, but there was no sound of a lock securing. Not that he necessarily expected it, but…
His legs trembled and he sat down on the bed, then idly ran his hand over the satin duvet. After the months in Thanos' tender care and sleeping on the bare ground of his cell, even the narrow cot on the Helicarrier was surreal to have, but this… This made no sense. At least with Thanos, he knew where he stood. The relation and the difference in power were clear. What did Stark try to achieve by this seemingly random act of kindness?
Fury's begrudging mercies Loki could understand, at least to some extent, the man thought Loki could be an asset if treated properly and Loki threaded carefully to not disperse that delusion. But Stark had no interest in keeping Loki content and comfortable. At least not one Loki could see, which was even worse.
He sighed and pulled the vial from his pocket, then weighed it in his hand. He had been taking the medicine throughout the day and it reduced the aches in his body to a background buzz, allowing him to function. He could already feel the previous dose wearing off and the familiar hurts setting back in their rightful place.
There was only one pill left.
Loki popped the lid off and let it tumble out onto his open palm, then eyed it, considering. It was a boon of a few moments of freedom from pain. He shouldn't have used it as carelessly as he did. There would be a time when he could need it more…
He sighed and brought the pill to his lips, then let it sit on his tongue for a moment before swallowing, savoring the promise of relief the bitter taste carried.
He laid back on the bed, waiting for it to start working. The mattress under his back was soft, his stomach was full, and he had clean clothes on his back. There were no chains weighting down his limbs, nor the metal bit between his teeth Proxima would make him wear when she didn't have a different use for his mouth. This was already so much more than he had hoped he could ever have again when he stumbled through the portal to Midgard. No, he'd thought there were only two possible outcomes. A quick death at the hands of mortals – or Thor, if he made it in time – if his plan succeeded, or more torment and then finally the blissful promise of oblivion at the hands of Thanos if he failed.
And yet, somehow, he was still alive.
Thanos was still out there, but without the cube or the scepter, it would take him years to reach Midgard again. And that could mean years of life for Loki.
And, if he played it right, he might even spend them comfortably.
He sighed and ran his hand through his hair. Who was he trying to fool? It wouldn't last. Any use Fury thought he could make of Loki was void. His magic was depleted after such a long time away from the source in Asgard, to the point he couldn't even heal himself and had to rely on his body's natural healing abilities, which left much to be desired. The little pool he drew from the scepter was as good as gone too.
There were cosmic rifts around Midgard that he could potentially use, but not with his resources drained so low. Even with proper nutrition, it would take his body months to replenish enough energy to try to reach and tap into them and that was time he did not have. Fury was not a patient man and Loki would be asked to prove himself useful soon. And there was no telling what would happen once Loki cannot do it.
Would they just lock him up or send him back to Asgard? Thor might not have made the best impression on the mortals, but he was a far more useful ally than Loki could ever be in his current state. Once Fury realized he made a mistake, he might try to rectify it…
Well, at least the Bifröst was still broken, it would still take some time to rebuild, and Odin wouldn't dare to tap into the dark magic so soon after he used it to send Thor to Midgard. But there was nothing stopping Fury from finding Loki some cozy cage and keeping him there until Thor showed up on Midgard again.
The drug started working, settling as a quiet buzz at the back of his head and adding fuzzy contours to the world around him, so Loki dragged himself back up.
The door on the other side of the room hid a bathroom, so he took a shower and wrapped himself in a soft bathing robe he found in the cupboard underneath the sink – he had no other clothes to change into anyway – then crawled in between the soft, fresh linens.
He pushed the swirling thoughts of worry away, one by one. He could figure it out tomorrow.
He was asleep in heartbeats.