Author's note: In reply to a couple of questions asked in the reviews:
- Nope, Tony had no idea that Loki was in Vanaheim before he saw him there…
- Most people in Vanaheim have only a little magic, so it's easier and quicker for them to let slaves do the work than use their own meagre magic powers. None of the free people there have any interest in getting rid of slavery, though – the more layers beneath you, the higher in the relative social hierarchy you stand…
They left Vanaheim in the evening, and it's even later in the evening here in Midgard, the circadian rhythms of the two realms fairly close but not entirely in synch. Loki wonders where Stark will have him sleep. He eyes the plush carpet of the living room, hoping he will be allowed on it during the night. Stark did let him sleep on the carpet in the guest chambers back in Vanaheim, but of course that wasn't his carpet. Maybe he'll feel differently about it here in his own penthouse.
As if hearing his thoughts, Stark closes his book with a dull thud. Magic of the Ancients. He has set his disembodied servant – Jarvis, he called him – on the task of analyzing the texts, so they're still not of any use to the man, but he's nevertheless unable to keep his hands off them.
"I think it's about bedtime for you. You look like you're about to keel over."
Loki makes no reply to that, but while he's happy to be allowed some sleep – his body as well as his mind feels utterly exhausted, despite the fact that he has not performed any labour worth the name for several days – he's not happy about Stark's comment. He doesn't want his new master to think that he is weak and easily fatigued.
"Come on. I'll show you where you'll be sleeping."
So he won't be sleeping in the living room then. As he gets up to follow Stark, he can't help but give the lush carpet one last longing look. The man leads him down one corridor and then another, and then they're standing in front of a door that Stark pushes open.
"This is your room. Now try not to get into any trouble and I'll see you in the morning, alright?"
With that, Stark is gone. Tentatively, Loki takes a step inside, feeling along the nearest wall for the switch that should be around somewhere. His fingers find a protruding square and he presses it.
The room lights up at his touch, flooding the space with light. The first thing he sees is a bed lining one of the walls. His breath hitches a little but then he frowns. He had not expected that and wonders if it's alright for him to use it. Stark had said that this was his room, which of course only means that this is where he'll be sleeping and spending his time if Stark wants him out of the way, but still. It should mean that he's allowed to utilize what's in here, right?
Besides, he's not a slave belonging to a faceless castle staff anymore, two interchangeable and replaceable hands among many, no, he's private property now. And masters often treat slaves serving in their homes better than the overseers treat the slaves working the premises of their employers. Unlike the overseers, the masters have paid good money for the slaves under their command. Well, not that Stark has paid anything for him – he just came along with the rest of the deal – but the point is still the same. It's not unheard of that slaves in private households are allowed to sleep in a cot or even in a bed, even if it's not the usual arrangement.
And perhaps Stark considers it a potentially useful tool to ensure Loki's good behaviour, to give him privileges that can of course be revoked anytime if he doesn't behave according to expectations.
He eyes the bed longingly, then decides to risk it. Come what may tomorrow, at least he will have had the glorious luxury of sleeping in a real bed for one night.
He wakes up in the morning feeling fairly well-rested. A thoughtless, irresponsible part of him wants to remain in the wonderful bed beneath the covers and just savour the amazing feeling of getting to luxuriate in all this warmth and softness.
But he knows better than that. Even if Stark has thankfully not awoken him yet – and what a disaster that would have been, a master having to wake his own slave – he should be up and running before the man wakes up, ready to serve. Reluctantly, he pulls the cover aside and gets out of the bed, then spends a minute arranging the bedding properly. Just in case Stark should come in here today, the carefully made bed will serve as a testament to Loki's neatness as opposed to making him look tardy.
Then he goes into the attached bathroom, grateful that Stark has seen fit to grant him the use of such luxuries. Of course, there is no courtyard and no real outside attached to Stark's penthouse, so there's really no other option than for him to wash inside, but still.
There's a sink, a toilet, and a shower. He steps into the latter and turns the water on. It's an ingenious Midgardian invention, one he's used several times during his previous stay here, so he knows how to operate it. The warm water splashing down on him from above feels wonderful.
Having dried himself off and dressed, he walks back into the living room. Stark is not in here, which he is grateful for, since it means he will not have to explain himself as to why he thought it was a good idea to sleep longer than his master. Looking around, he wonders if he should start cleaning so he won't look idle when Stark arrives, but he doesn't know where the supplies for that are kept and besides he wants to wait for Stark to come around to give him his orders for the day. It might seem presumptuous of him otherwise, as if he knows better than his master what tasks need to be done.
So instead, he simply stands there staring out of the huge windows offering him a magnificent view of the city below. There are no signs left of the destruction he once brought upon it, and he's glad for that.
Some time later, Stark enters, his arrival heralded by soft footfalls echoing in the corridor.
"Good morning, Master," Loki says, inclining his head respectfully.
"Morning," Stark replies. He comes to a halt in the middle of the room where he studies Loki for a few seconds. "Well, at least you don't look worse than yesterday," comes the final verdict.
He has no response to that.
"I'm heading out. Got some stuff to take care of after that long visit to Fairyland."
Loki remains silent. It's no business of his where Stark is going. But he does hope that the man will provide him with some form of instructions for the day before leaving. He can't read Stark's mind and trying to do so will most likely not end well at all.
"So, before I leave I just want to give you a little reminder." He points at the big screen in the corner. "Take a look. Jarvis?"
Just like that, the screen is turned on. It shows the corridor leading to his room. After a couple of seconds of nothing but what looks like a still image, he and Stark come walking into view. Footage from yesterday evening, then. The screen freezes as they've made it half-across and Stark turns towards Loki.
"See that, Loki? Whatever you do here, Jarvis will be watching you. Now, I'm not going to be using him to peek on you in the shower or whatever, but if you get up to any shit in here, I will find out. And you don't want that. Do we understand each other?"
He nods, swallowing. There will be no way of hiding any ill doings from Stark. Firmly, he resolves not to do anything that Stark might not approve of.
"So, any questions before I go?"
"What… tasks do you wish for me to perform during your absence?" Surely Stark doesn't expect him to figure that out on his own? If so, he will be an even harder master to please than Loki previously thought.
"Tasks? Oh, right. Yeah, I'll figure something out for you to do later, but I don't have the time for that right now. So your task for today is one thing – behave." He crosses his arms, as if daring Loki to challenge this wholly needless instruction. "I'm usually not here a whole lot, but if Jarvis tells you to do or not do something when I'm not around, you obey him like you would obey me. Clear?"
"Yes, Master." So perhaps it will not be entirely unlike Vanaheim then, with an overseer hovering above him. He wonders if Jarvis is planning to lord him around a lot in Stark's absence.
"Good. See ya later, then."
"Goodbye, Master."
He had been hoping for Stark so say something about breakfast, but then recalls that he's the only slave here so the man may not have any appropriate food for him in his stocks. Someone of Stark's wealth is bound to eat well, of course, and definitely not of the kind of food one might consider giving to a mere slave. He hopes that Stark is considering stocking up, though. Hopefully today, or Loki will have to resign himself to going without food for the entire day.
Stark has already turned his back to walk out, but then seems to reconsider.
"Oh, by the way, if you get hungry, just help yourself to the stuff in the refrigerator or cupboards or wherever."
He feels a wave of relief washing over him. At least he'll get to eat something today.
"And… which foods am I allowed?"
Stark shrugs. "Just take whatever. I don't eat at home that often so there's not going to be that much to choose from." Loki's face must have given his reaction away, because Stark follows up his words with an exasperated sigh and crosses his arms. "Alright, care to tell me what the problem is?"
"I'm not… supposed to eat the same food as you."
"Says who?"
He gapes stupidly for a few seconds. It's such an obvious notion that he's not sure how to answer the question.
"Look, Loki, I thought we went over this yesterday. If I tell you to do something, you do it." Stark is getting irritated again, and Loki hunches in on himself. "I'm not going to be making any changes in the items on my grocery lists just because you're here, so you eat what I eat. Or don't eat, your choice."
"I understand," he says meekly.
But he really doesn't. Is this another test? He's still trying to figure it out several minutes after Stark has left. But he realizes that in the end there's only one way to find out – eat some of the food from Stark's stocks – Jarvis will watch him do it – and see what Stark's reaction will be once he gets back home. At least then Loki will know where he truly stands on the issue.
He gingerly opens the door to the refrigerator, peering inside. Stark was right, there's not a whole lot of food in here, but there's plenty enough for him. He looks at each item – some of them are easily recognizable, apples, eggs, and the like. Others are stored in colourful little boxes with words on them no doubt describing their contents, and he tries to recall the alphabet he once learned.
He was unable to write in the Midgardian alphabet when Stark wanted him to, but reading a foreign script is always easier than writing in it. It goes slowly, but it's gradually coming back to him as he's turning the containers around in his hands, trying to decipher their markings. A couple he's not able to figure out no matter how much he tries, but he finds one smallish plastic container whose contents he eventually manages to decode as something called chocolate pudding. He has no idea what chocolate is, and the Allspeak offers no translation for that word so it must be a uniquely Midgardian ingredient, but he remembers sometimes being given rice pudding to eat back in Vanaheim, a bland, tasteless concoction that stuck to his gums like glue. This might be something similar and hence appropriate for someone of his station him to eat.
Satisfied with his line of reasoning, he peels off the metallic lid. The contents staring back at him are a muddy brown instead of dirty-ish soggy white and look highly unappetizing, more like cow dung than food. He finds a spoon in a drawer and scoops up a mouthful, hoping it won't be as disgusting as it looks.
The sugary flavours that explode on his tongue are a shock and he almost chokes on the little morsel, wholly unprepared for its sweetness. It's the most delicious dish he's eaten in a very long time. And so he gobbles it all up, unable to stop himself. Having scooped out the last spoonful, he sticks down his finger into the container to scrape off the remnants sticking to the insides and then licks it off.
He remains in his sugary bliss for a few seconds but then realizes with dawning horror that such a delicacy could not possibly have been meant for him, no matter what Stark had said earlier. A bolt of misery pierces him as he ponders his grave mistake. Jarvis will of course have seen him, so Stark will find out about what he has done. Or maybe he already has, if Jarvis has been quick enough to already convey this information to him.
But he will have to confess his mistake to Stark regardless, even if the man already knows. Confessing after Jarvis has informed Stark is still better than not confessing at all.
When Stark returns it's late in the evening, and Loki is still undecided on how to best address the issue as to arouse as little of his wrath as possible. But it turns out he doesn't need to make a decision as the man offers him an opening right away.
"Why the long face? You look like your goldfish just died."
He takes a deep breath. "I ate your… chocolate pudding," he manages, glad his voice comes out loud and clear enough so he won't have to repeat this incrimination.
Stark looks up from the phone in his hands and then down again. "Yeah well, good for you. I do hope you ate something else as well, 'cause you're looking mighty thin to me."
"N-no, no, I didn't," he stammers, confused about Stark's non sequitur reply.
"And why is that?" Stark is no longer looking at his phone and that is not a good sign.
"I thought you… would be mad about me eating the pudding, so I didn't want to take any more of your food." His reply comes out sounding more like a question than a statement, as if trying to ascertain that he has Stark's approval of his line of reasoning. Which he senses he doesn't have at all right now, for reasons he can't understand.
"Sheesh." Stark has put the phone down, now, and is busy rubbing his face into his hands. Then he stalks over to the couch and throws himself down on it with a loud sigh. "I can't believe we actually have to go over this again. Get over here." He snaps his fingers, as if calling for a dog. "Now."
The voice brokers absolutely no argument whatsoever and Loki obeys, kneeling down in front of Stark, tense like a drawn bowstring.
Stark leans down over him, uncomfortably close and it's all Loki can do not to flinch. "I thought you were a smart one, but it seems I might have been wrong about that, so let's repeat this again. What did I tell you about the food before I left?"
"That I could take some of it if I was hungry?"
"Yeah. And did I tell you there were any restrictions on what stuff you could take?"
"No, Master," he all but whispers to the hands in his lap.
"Then what's the problem? Do you think I'm going to give you orders and then expect you not to follow them? Are you even listening to a single fucking word I'm saying to you?" Stark's voice is like a whip. And now that he's putting it that way, Loki seems recalcitrant and stupid, unable to follow even the simplest of orders.
Stark is angry with him. Already on his first full day here Loki has managed to mess up, and now, Stark is mad.
He's started to tremble, and what's much worse, he can feels tears of helplessness and powerlessness starting to well up into his eyes. He has no idea how to act here, everything he does turns out wrong. "I'm sorry," he manages, voice breaking pathetically.
Stark exhales, voice somehow softer, now. "Sheesh, stop it, Loki. It's… fine. It's just some food." He pauses for a long moment, and then makes a crooked grimace. "Though right now I kinda feel like I've gotten stuck with a puppy that can't look after itself. And there's no Animal Rescue League to hand it over to."
Loki looks at him in confusion, not sure what Stark is talking about. He has no idea what an Animal Rescue League is.
"Alright, tell you what we're going to do to salvage this mess," Stark continues, pointing at him. "You're going to go into the kitchen, get a plate and put a decent dinner on it. Then you're going back here to show it to me for approval. If I don't like it, you go back and put some more stuff onto it. Clear?"
End note: Seems like Tony might be starting to realize that he's kind of gotten in over his head bringing Loki back with him… so will things get worse? Or better? Stay tuned to find out! :D