A/N: Sorry this update took a while, I wrote the orginal draft and it was like 11 Word pages long and just seemed insane, so I had to find a place to split it and then construct a decent chpter 12 out of the leftovers...and now THAT'S ended up being about 5000 words, so it's a vicious cycle. BUT I LOVE IT. So glad that you guys seem to be enjoying it too! Thank you, againandagainandagain!

So without further ado, have some Loki feeeeels (^.^)

And say hello to JARVIS

And await THE MAMMOTH CHAPTER 12!

Disclaimer: Nothing mine, again, as always. Song: 30STM. My current favourite Frost Iron song. Maybe that's the reason for my insane word vomits...

Chapter 11. Stranger In A Strange Land.

Loki was stood by the window, staring out into the distance, not seeing the smooth curve of pale sand or sparkling glisten of the ocean only a few hundred feet from him, not seeing the 'S' shaped pool practically underneath his feet, not seeing the perfect patio or the perfect stretch of perfect lawn or perfect waxy palm trees dotted in carefully planned places all around Tony's perfect garden. Not that he would have been impressed anyway, the luxury and opulence of Asgard was above and beyond anything this mortal realm had to offer, and it would have pained him to think of this, his old home, his old life. Loki had learnt long ago it was easier to stop thinking, to stop remembering, to stop mourning, because in the end it just antagonized the ache inside him, and after all, what had he actually lost? His whole life had been a lie. His father had stolen him from a place of hatred and cold, taken him into his own family, but in the end none of them had been able to take away the hatred or cold from inside Loki himself. In fact, they had all of them made it worse. Thor, his brother - always stronger, more popular, more admired, more suited. Thor had professed to love Loki, but like everyone else, had never seen him as his own equal. Frigga…she had always played the doting mother, but she too had neglected to tell him of his true parentage. She hadn't been there at the moment Loki had finally felt the last shred of attachment to his adopted life leave him, but she couldn't have saved him even if she was. She couldn't have made up for Odin's words, for his expression. Nobody could, because nobody apart from Loki knew just how much rested on them, and just how much damage they would do.

Growing up, Loki had always felt the shadow over himself, separating him from Thor and his father's approval, following him everywhere he went and smothering everything he did. He was younger, smaller, weaker, quieter, inferior. He had never been interested in war, or battle, or boasting, or training – instead content to sit with a book, drinking in history, astrology, philosophy, magic. He was fascinated by the arts of alchemy and enchantments, tricks and runes, wizardry. He was a fast learner and equipped with above average intelligence, and he poured hours and hours into learning the incantations and hand sleights that gave him the abilities and powers so intricately described in his beloved books. He learnt how to create, fascinate, teleport, vanish; he learnt quickly, and in time he was the most adept sorcerer in all of Asgard. His mischievous sense of humour meant he often used his skills to play practical jokes on his family and contempories, but never ones that were truly dangerous, that truly meant any harm. Even after everything, however, everything he had learnt and everything he achieved, he still came in second place, still ranked behind Thor in his father's eyes. In the eyes that mattered. Odin was a wise and great warrior, and he didn't see magic as Loki saw it, as a beautiful, wondrous and elegant discipline – he saw it as child's play, a hobby, not fit for a grown prince, not fit for a king. Thor occasionally indulged Loki, but more often that not treated his magic as an excuse to 'get his own back' after Loki had played one of his innocent tricks on his brother, a feat which usually involved Loki becoming acquainted with a few extra bruises and a few playful insults rolling round his ears, echoing through his brain.

As they grew older, Loki's tricks became less innocent and Thor's 'responses' less playful; as Loki became increasingly bitter, tired of the injustice that was his life, tired of getting no recognition for his talents. He failed to see the glint of astonishment in Thor's eyes when he conjured something out of thin air, choosing only to hear the inevitable rebuke. He failed to see the pride in his mothers face as she watched him grow taller, leaner, cleverer, and dress in the armour that befitted their family, choosing only to compare himself to Thor – who always got the shinier, heavier, more resplendent outfits, the more lavish gifts. He failed to see the genuine smiles on some peoples faces when they greeted him, choosing only to hear the whispers of Thor's friends when he was unseated in mock-battle yet again, or when he accidentally intruded on a meeting he hadn't been invited to. He failed to see the affection in Odin's eyes, the genuine concern he held for his younger adopted son, choosing instead to only pay attention to the times Odin ignored him in favour of Thor or his council or some feast or some stupid warrior.

Maybe if he had seen them, he wouldn't have forgotten to keep looking. As the saying goes, it's the little things that count, but Loki never did. They'd been there all along, and Loki had been blind to them.

Now, staring out into this strange land, he realised that although he may have opened his eyes, he was in the wrong place, at the wrong time. And all he had for company was that insufferable oaf in the room next door, and Anthony Stark, a man more infuriating and yet intriguing than Loki liked to admit. He was curious as to what Stark actually planned to do with him, now he was here; he got the feeling this particular 'sentence' he had been given by that angry guy with the eye patch was some form of bizarre social experiment, with himself as the subject. He didn't want to believe that Tony could make the pain inside him go away, because he was scared, scared of Stark failing, scared of being beyond help, scared of realising he was indeed broken beyond repair. What hope did a mere mortal have to banish the evil inside of him? But there was something different about this particular mortal, Loki had recognised it even while under the influence of the sceptre. There was something about the billionaire that Loki identified with, even through his haze of confusion, and though he was no longer really sure what his identity really was anymore, he fancied he could recognise something similar to what it used to be in Stark. What he now hoped against hope it could be once more. However much he hated the thought of having to rely on someone, anyone, and especially a mortal enemy of his, he recognised that if anyone could help him now, it was probably Stark.

And that was another thing. Was someone your enemy because they told you they were, or because you told yourself they were? Or because the world told both of you you were?

XXXXX

Pepper had left, saying she needed space, space and a long time to think and a long sleep. Tony had let her go, after checking she really was OK, and telling her more than once it was fine for her to stay. He had seen her torn at his offer, torn between wanting to protect him and be near him and have him reassure her again and again, and feeling sick and shivery at the thought of being in the same building as the captured god of lies. Tony had recognised that Pepper, infallible and more than capable of putting up with heap upon heap of his problems and his bullshit and his issues, needed more than just a few hours to bounce back from this particular bombshell. So he had relented, put her in his car, and ordered Happy to take her to the small villa nearby, technically the 'staff villa' which the company paid for but which was really Peppers own little bolthole, arranged by Tony a few days after they'd officially split to allow Pepper to be here but without him thrust in her face 24/7. After she'd left, he'd padded through the downstairs level, briefly checking in on the rooms as he passed, seeing them spotless, shining, as perfect as when he left them. Reaching the kitchen, he opened the cupboard to find a new bottle of Scotch waiting exactly where he knew it would be, and poured himself a larger than life measure, topping up with ice from that machine thing in the fridge door and slumping down in a chair at the breakfast bar.

''What would I do without you, JARVIS'' he raised his glass ceiling wards, the ice knocking against the glass with a pleasing clink.

Sir, it was Gabrielle, as always. I merely informed her of your estimated time of arrival at the house, and she oversaw the restocking of your necessary amenities.

''To Gabrielle, then'' Tony took a satisfying swig of the intoxicating liquid, savouring it's woody yet sharp taste for a few moments before swallowing. His cleaner really was a treat. Taking a second sip, he ignored the way JARVIS had intoned 'necessary amenities'; really, his AI was becoming too sarky for it's own good, had he asked for an appraisal of his drinking habits?

Sir, may I remind you that I am awaiting further instruction on how to proceed with the processing of our guests? Our introduction was but brief and rather cursory, and I should like to know what updates to the system, if any, are required?

Tony sighed, kneading his head with his knuckles. It had really happened. Loki and Thor, demi-gods, aliens from another realm, brothers at war, were really here. Upstairs. In his house. To stay. With approval. With purpose.

''The big guy, blonde, built like a brick shithouse…that's Thor. Thor…Odinson, I guess. Norse god of thunder, heir to Asgard, newly recruited Avenger, good guy. Update all records and authorize him guest status and access to everywhere but my lab. He's not exactly…clued up on Midgard – sorry, Earth – ways, so he might need a rather gentle introduction to Stark City. Including you, Jarv. Don't go bellowing at him without warning or he's likely to try and attack you with that hammer of his, and the only victim in that fight will be my bricks and mortar''.

Duly noted, Sir, records created and currently updating for 'Thor Odinson', would you like them copied to your personal file?

''Yeah, why not. Bedtime reading wouldn't go amiss. Doubt I'll be free for many other night time activities for the near future'' Tony sighed, realising that babysitting Loki was practically going to be a full time job.

As you wish Sir. And our second guest?

''That'd be the man of the moment. Loki Odinson. No, wait. What did Thor say… 'Laufey' I think…Loki Laufeyson? No hang on, rain check the name. I'll ask him which he prefers. Just put Loki. Brother of Thor - '' oh, and how Loki would despise that, identity established via his brother Tony thought before he could stop himself, and went on guiltily ''- Asgardian - '' and hey, even that's a sticky issue '' – god of mischief, errr….formerly hostile to the Avengers initiative, and that's putting it lightly, mental issues, delicate, self destructive…soon to be reformed character. Track his movements, record his speech, keep an eye on him 24/7. Same access privileges as Thor, although for gods sake sound an alarm if he ever looks like he's too attached to something that could suffice as a weapon, whatever the hell it may be. And copy everything to my personal file again. Cheers Jarv, you're a star''.

Tony had felt weird summarising Loki, he was so much more…complex than words allowed. He also wasn't quite sure why he hadn't ordered for Loki to be detained, or put on bedroom arrest – after all, not less than 24 hours ago he was wreaking havoc in New York, intending to take over the planet and ordering a bunch of scaly subterranean alien weapon things to kill everyone and everything that moved, included Tony and his friends. Tony had a feeling Fury had intended Loki to be constrained; he had approved his rehabilitation, after all, not his freedom – but Tony never was one for following orders, and anyway Fury hadn't heard Loki, hadn't seen him directly after the sceptre broke and the ghost of the Chitauri left his body. Fury hadn't been there when Tony had listened to Thor talk of his brother, his brother whom he at least still had faith in. Between these things, Tony had begun to get a different view of Loki, and he'd realised on the plane over here that he wasn't scared of the god. If truth be told, Loki was probably more scared of Loki than Tony was.

Loki had had the Chitauri trapped in his head, and now it seemed he had all the horrors of his past in there once again. His mind was locked up, and it would take a long time for him to break out. Tony just couldn't bring himself to chain the god's body as well.

Finishing the last of his drink, Tony pushed himself up out of the stool and started for the door, before wavering – what the hell was he actually intending to do now? What was he supposed to do? Sure, it was all well and good supporting Loki's obvious need for attention, positive attention, but now the god was actually here, now he was Tony's 'problem', as such, Tony found himself completely flummoxed. He doubted Loki was the type of guy to sit and have a heart to heart chat with over dinner, and frankly, it had been so long since Tony had dealt with anything of this type or this magnitude that he was completely at a loss with how to proceed. Forcing himself to remember back to the time he was lying on the lowest floor of rock bottom, he tried to recall how exactly he'd escaped, what exactly had pulled him away from the brink of ruin. Three images swam through his head, becoming brighter and clearer as he realised what they were and what they meant.

Iron Man, and Pepper. And Yinsen, but he couldn't think about Yinsen, it still hurt too much. Besides, Yinsen was dead, and Tony wasn't about to let himself or anyone else die for Loki. He pushed his old friends face out of his mind, letting his focus rest on his workshop, his suits, and Pepper. Pepper, his guardian angel.

Smirking at the thought of Loki in connection with anything 'angelic', he began to see where this was going. Loki couldn't be Iron Man, and besides he already had a costumed persona going on. In a slightly creepy leather-and-metal-kinky-bondage type of way. Tony also doubted Loki was up to scratch with modern technology, given his reaction to Tony's arc reactor earlier.

So.

Not Iron Man.

That left Pepper. And seen as the actual Pepper was already taken, and Tony doubted she'd have agreed to interact with Loki anyway, he was going to have to become Loki's Pepper himself. The smirk returned before Tony could stop it when a set of utterly inappropriate and hilarious images ran through his mind as what that particular relationship could look like. It was soon wiped off his face when JARVIS interrupted this rather ridiculous thought tangent to inform him that Thor was currently attempting to enter Loki's room, and judging by the snarls and irregular blasts coming from both sides of the door, if Tony didn't get up there immediately and diffuse whatever 'situation' was happening then he probably wouldn't have a problem left to be dithering about.

On the other hand, he might just have an even bigger one.

Also, if you haven't already seen, I've started a set of drabbles, all Avengers based but some AU/Young Loki/Thor movie stuff, as part of the '30 Day Drabble/prompt word challenge' on tumblr...the first two shorts are now up, and I'd absolutely love any feedback/suggestions! Check my profile to find it :)