The sunlight woke him, falling in from the large window on one side of the room. Tony laid on his back while he slowly returned to consciousness, blinking and taking in his surroundings. He felt well-rested, which was the first thing to surprise him. The second was the fact that he awoke peacefully, with neither a nightmare nor an owner to wake him. Then, he noticed that he was laying in a bed, like, a real, comfortable bed, and that brought back the memories of Loki.

"Shit", he muttered and nearly face-palmed as he remembered his badly planned escape attempt and the conversation afterwards. Whatever you do, Anthony, I am never going to harm you, starve you, ...rape you or use any of the torture methods your former owners seemed to favour. Do you understand? Yes, he did, and no, he didn't. He understood the words, but still, a part of him refused to believe them, refused to put that much trust in a man he barely knew for a day.

Slowly, Tony sat up. He was still in the clothes the god had given him (sleeping naked had been a habit before he had been abducted, but his time as a slave had taught him to see it as a vulnerability and promise or not, he was not going to undress in front of Loki). When he reluctantly left the bed, he spotted a stack of clothing, sitting neatly folded on a chair beside him. On top of it laid a small note which he picked up to read the curvy, small handwriting.

Good morning,

I am afraid I have duties to attend to and since you slept so peacefully, I decided not to wake you. You looked like you needed it. (What was that supposed to mean now?) If you have not noticed before, the door on the right wall leads to your bathroom. When you are ready, there is someone waiting outside the chamber to guide you to the kitchen so you may have your first meal. I am sure they will find something to pass your time afterwards (so he was going to do some work after all, but helping in a kitchen was the most harmless task he had gotten in months) until I come for you.

Best regards,

Loki

Well, that wasn't half as bad as he had expected. No gruesome punishments, not even some scolding words. Just 'go get your breakfast and then make yourself useful'. He could deal with that. Slinging the clothes over his arm, he entered the bathroom and stopped in his tracks for a second to gape.

When he opened the door, he was greeted by the quiet murmur of running water. It came from a small quell that was probably the equivalent of a sink, judging by its height and form. Beside that, there was a toilet, water constantly flowing through it, too. What caught his eye though was the bathtub embedded in the marble floor, accentuated with gold (look who's surprised) and big enough for Tony to fit in twice. Outstretched, that is. One of the walls was a floor-to-ceiling mirror and everything else was held in black and white marble tones. All in all, it looked better than some hotel bathrooms he had seen, and Tony had a damn good taste when it came to hotels.

And he was a slave.

Shaking off his thoughts, he dropped the clothing on the floor and walked over to the tub, just to find out there were no control panels on it or anything else he could use to fill it. After circling it twice without any results, he gave up and washed himself with the lukewarm water in the sink as good as possible, shedding Loki's clothing and, after a short hesitance, folded it to take it out with him later. Then, he slipped into his own trousers (black, incredibly soft leather with laces to tie it at the front) and reached for the tunic as he caught sight of himself in the mirror wall.

Loki had been right: He had needed the sleep desperately. Even now, there were shadows under his eyes and his gaze was more resenting and closed up than he had ever seen himself. There was a scar on his cheek, starting at the cheekbone and running down until it almost reached his upper lip. His torso was marred with scars, beginning with the ones around the arc reactor and then some others, thin white lines left by whips, knifes or, in the more specific cases, claws.

He was about to pull the tunic over his head when he stopped again, frowning. Stepping closer to the glass, he took a closer look and spotted small, barely visible black lines originating from the reactor. They were thin, but not thin enough to pretend they weren't there at all. He traced one of them with a finger until he couldn't make it out anymore, then dipped a had into the water of the sink to rub it over his skin, clinging to the fragile hope that the lines would just go away. Of course, they didn't.

"Well, can't help that now", he muttered and pulled the tunic on. It was a dark red, not like Thor's cape, but fuller, richer, like wine. It covered the worrying lines and made it easier not to think about them now, although Tony was actually very aware of the problem. Palladium. Of course, Palladium didn't go well with his body, it was poisonous after all. But up until now, he had been able to ignore it because there were always more pressing problems at hand. But now? The thing keeping him alive was poisoning him, and he was sure it wouldn't stop at some black lines. It was dangerous, that much was sure. But even if he found an element that could possibly replace the Palladium, he had no way of building it into the reactor and developing anything here. He was well and truly trapped.

Even with the reactor covered, he still couldn't keep his mind from wandering there. In some way, he had missed that, a problem he had to solve with science and not reckless escape plans. It felt good to have something to busy his mind with. On his way out he looked over to the chair on which sat two more tunics and trousers – enough to wear for quite some while, and that literally over night – and he spotted a pair of boots he hadn't even noticed before. Surprised, he picked them up – they were made of soft, black leather and cut high enough to cover half of his shins, with straps and buckles to lace them with. Careful, still somewhat disbelieving, he pulled them on and noticed they were fitting perfectly, too. Loki had taken care of everything, and Tony couldn't help but dread the price he would demand for his generosity.

When he opened the door that led out to the hallway, he almost stumbled over a boy sitting on the floor. The kid scrambled to his feet hastily, hiding a book he had been reading behind his back with an expression like someone had just caught him peeping in the girls' bath.

"What's up?", Tony asked, raising an eyebrow. "You not allowed to read here?"

"We, uh... we are", the boy stuttered. "But it is, uh, considered... not... appropriate for a warrior."

With an amused smirk, the inventor looked the boy up and down. He wasn't exactly scrawny, no, actually he was pretty well-built, but he lacked the proud stance of a fighter. On top of that, he didn't look much older than seventeen. Mouthing the obvious question, he asked: "A warrior? How old are you, exactly?"

"Barely over the three-hundreds", the boy replied with a sheepish smile. "But one day, I will become a great fighter."

Tony felt his jaw drop. "Uh, sorry, I just... could... could you repeat that last bit?"

"I said I will be a –"

"No, before that. How old are you again?"

The boy's face lit up. "Ah. I am three hundred and fourteen years old. But many people tell me I already look much older." He grinned proudly. "And you? How old are you? You must be at least three thousand years old! Were you born as a slave or have you been a warrior before? Did the scar –"

"I'm thirty-nine", Tony interrupted the boy. "And I've been born free, and I'll be free again, and no, I really don't need your opinion on that, so where's the kitchen?"

The boy gaped at him. "Thirty–", he began, but Tony cut him off: "Shush, no talking. Food first, then discussions." Which is absolutely not because I'm currently trying to comprehend that you're three hundred and still look like a teen. Nope. The kid – well, sort of – nodded slowly and turned to lead. Unfortunately, he didn't stay still for long. "Then, what name do you go by?"

"Tony", the inventor replied, at least trying not to sound annoyed.

"Tony?", his companion repeated and Tony groaned.

"Alright, Anthony, for heaven's sake! What's up with you guys and nicknames? Whatever. What's your name?"

"I am Finnobarr", he replied with a wide smile.

"...Yeah. I think I'll go by Finny, but thank you", Tony muttered.

Finny stopped dead in his tracks and repeated: "Finny? You cannot do that!" Jeez, the poor kid really looked appalled.

"I think I can. Watch me", the engineer responded drily and set to move again, but a surprisingly fierce grip on his arm stopped him. "You guys have really serious issues about your names, you know that?", he sighed, slowly feeling really annoyed.

"You have no right to degrade my name like that!", Finny snapped and his grip tightened, suddenly becoming very uncomfortable. Where was the overly excited, smiling-sparkly 300-years-old teen from just three seconds ago?

Tony stayed calm anyway as he raised an eyebrow and asked: "Ah, and why is that?"

"Because no matter how low I stand as an Asgardian", the boy hissed, "you, as a slave, will always be beneath me."

Okay, not sympathetic. Jerking his arm backwards – and failing to free himself because Finny was surprisingly strong – Tony shot back: "I don't think someone living in a culture not even advanced enough to disestablish slavery can tell my about my worth, and now get your fucking fingers off me!"

"You have the audacity –"

"No, you have the audacity to threaten your prince's personal slave!", Tony interrupted and had to suppress a grin at the way Finny flinched. That had been a risky part to play and maybe it would bring him into trouble later, but apparently it worked because the boy reluctantly stepped back, his jaw and fists clenched. "I think there's some kitchen you wanted to show me?"

Finny turned away without dignifying that with an answer, but at least he started walking again, not looking if Tony would follow him, and that gave the engineer the privacy to let his shoulders slump in relief. This had been close to turn really nasty, and he really didn't want to bring himself into trouble on day two with Loki. Even if he had acted friendly so far, there was something about him that made the inventor doubt his flawless, civil facade, for example his short outburst the night before. Yes, he had calmed down pretty fast when he had noticed that Tony was straight-out scared, but he didn't seem like a person who took it well if their rules were disobeyed. He had been mild this time, but although Tony had sworn himself to never let any of his captors subjugate him, the thought of going against Loki made his skin crawl.

Before his thoughts could begin to move in circles, Finny pushed open a door and a wave of different smells rushed over them with a gush of warm air. The engineer's stomach took that as a clue to remind him that his last meal had been on the midday of day one, meaning yesterday, and he had skipped out dinner because he had been passed out cold on that gloriously fluffy bed (maybe it just seemed overly comfortable to him because he hadn't slept on a bed for months, but who was he to complain?). The sleep, uninterrupted by nightmares this time, had done him good, but now? Yes, he was hungry.

An elderly woman in a plain dress rushed towards them and greets: "Finnobarr!" She was actually using that full ridiculous name. "There you are. Abigael requires your assistance with the boar over there, go give her a hand." Then she addressed Tony who was still gaping at the kitchen – that was not anywhere near the right word to describe this. It was a damn hall with stoves and tables with people working on them, on all kinds of different food – bread, meat, vegetables, something that could be jam or marmalade, a girl was pressing out fruits to get their juices, and all of that was coated in a heavy steam, rising up from the various stoves and whatever else there was in this room. It carried a smell that made Tony's stomach growl and made him grateful for the busy noises everywhere that he hoped would keep people from hearing him. "You must be the prince's new slave", she stated and gave him a once-over. "Norns, where did he get you from?" What was that supposed to mean now? "You look like you have not eaten properly in months. Come with me, boy."

Well, she had probably no idea how right she was, the inventor thought bitterly. And boy? Really? At least she didn't take him for four thousand years or something. Apparently, the women on this planet had a serious issue with being overly motherly, because Tony didn't think he looked that helpless.

"Here, sit down", she said, pushing him down onto a wooden bench on one of the long tables in the middle of the room, right next to a gorgeous blonde kneading a ball of dough in her slender hands. Slender hands, but undoubtedly powerful. She glanced up at him and smiled. Tony gave her his brightest smile in return and winked which made her blush and look at the dough again. So even if he was skinny and much paler than he was used to, he apparently hadn't lost his touch. Very nice.

Not even a minute later, the woman who had led him inside was back with a big bowl of something that looked like porridge with various berries, but smelled much better, and handed him a wooden spoon with a smile while she encouraged him: "Eat, you really need to gain some weight. I will be sure to feed you properly." She winked like they had just exchanged a secret. "I am Marianne, by the way."

"Anthony", he replied (because he was stubborn, not stupid), taking her hand and breathing a kiss onto it. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." And if this behaviour made him feel like he was stuck in a Middle Age role play, well, it didn't matter, did it? Better than some crazy sadistic alien overlords.

Marianne snickered and commented: "Oh, a flatterer. I can see why Loki likes you."

"I'm not flattering, only telling the truth", Tony replied smoothly. It felt good to have some normal conversation again, teasing, flirting, even if it was with an old woman. It made him feel more like himself again.

She laughed quietly and then changed the topic: "When does the prince require your presence?"

The inventor shrugged as he answered: "Loki's up to some princely duties, I think. He left me a note that I should eat something and then make myself useful until he comes to pick me up."

Marianne looked thoughtful for a moment and then said: "Yes, I believe there was a council morning set for this morning." And that sounded so boring Tony was really happy that the prince hadn't made him tag along or something. "We can always use a helping hand down here. But eat first."

And that Tony did; the porridge-like purée tasted wonderful, slightly sweet because of the berries and very sating. After he had had breakfast, Marianne brought him flour and some pastry to roll out, the girl beside him wrapping different fruits in it when he passed it to her afterwards, and although Tony was clearly not a cook, it felt good to use his hands for something (he was sure he was on that several hours and it proved to be more exhausting than he would have suspected). The blonde who he worked in accord with, it turned out she was called Brenda, had a really nice way of batting her eyelashes (that or Tony was just desperate) and was easy to flatter, responding to the easiest ways of flirting.

By the time Loki showed up, there were two other girls sitting opposite from him at the table and the engineer had the best time in months. Not all of them were as easy to flatter as Brenda, and one brown-haired was a seriously tough nut to crack. So yes, Tony was having fun when Marianne tapped him on the shoulder and told him that Loki was waiting outside. Of course, he wouldn't step into the kitchen himself. Prince and everything.

"Well then, ladies, it's been fun", he said while standing up from the bench and then giving a small bow in front of the three girls still sitting at the table. They snickered and then Tony was on his way to the double doors (we really don't need to point out that they were golden, do we?) that led out into the hallway and pushed at one of them, leaning against it with his full weight to open it. When it was wide enough for him to slip through, he turned around once again because in his peripheral vision, he saw Finnobarr walking by with a basked of steaming something and he, being Tony Stark, couldn't leave this at what it was and waved at the boy, beaming, as he called over: "See you soon, Finny!" Then, he slipped out of the door and pressed his back against it to close it, fast, but not too fast to hear the "Oh, you little...!" from the other side. Worth it, he thought with a grin.

"And what was that about now?", Loki asked from the other side of the corridor where he was leaning against a wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest, an amused quirk to his lips. Ah yes, that guy was still there. He certainly didn't look pissed, but Tony wasn't sure how well he'd take it when he told him that he was making fun of Asgardian name traditions and stuff.

"Just a little bickering", he replied and was surprised by his own good mood. But this morning had been good and he wasn't going to purposefully destroy his cheerfulness. No need to make himself depressed, after all.

"White does certainly look good on you", the god commented drily and looked him up and down once.

"White?", Tony repeated. "What are you – oh." He looked at his tunic and noticed it was coated in flour, almost hiding the ruby colour. Wait. Shit. Loki had given him clothes and he'd soiled them not even halfway through the first day, this was so fucking bad... "Sorry", he muttered nervously and then immediately scolded himself. You are not going to go and apologize, you're not a slave, don't you dare forget it!

"There is no need for that", Loki just replied, still smiling. Apparently, the council meeting hadn't been that bad if it had put him into such a good mood. "We can go so you can get changed, and then I would like to show you something." The engineer exhaled slowly and nodded, uncertain if the proposal should make him feel excited or nervous. He settled for a bit of both – he really didn't know what to make of Loki so far. When the god started walking, he hurried to keep up and tried to dust some of the flour off his tunic inconspicuously, but only ended up producing a cloud around himself and muttered quiet curses under his breath. If the prince noticed, he didn't comment on it but asked instead: "Is the room to your liking?"

And there he was again, asking about Tony's well-being and seeming neither malicious nor sarcastic doing it. The inventor replied hastily: "It's great, far more than I would've expected, honestly. I, uh... thanks, I guess." He stared at the golden floor. "I just, uh..."

"Yes?", Loki asked, something that almost sounded like concern tinting his voice.

"Could..." He swallowed. "Could you show me how to operate that tub sometime? 'Cause I'm really clueless how that's supposed to function without any manuals and all." He still kept his eyes glued to the floor, expecting the god to lash out in some way, for some reason, out of some motivation Tony didn't understand, because that was always how it was. He didn't need to know what he was punished for, it just happened and he had to suck it up since complaining would make it nothing but worse.

But Loki didn't fulfil his expectations, of course not, he had promised (but what was a promise worth if it came from a person claiming to own him?) and instead replied: "Of course I will. Would you rather bathe now or this evening?" Was Loki actually asking Tony if he wants him to delay what he has planned so he can have a bath?

"I had a catlick this morning, I think that's okay for now", he answered and got an odd look from the god. "What, you don't have cats up here?"

"We do", Loki replied, his brows furrowed in confusion. Were he not a slave holder, especially not Tony's slave holder, it would maybe even have looked cute. "I still do not understand why you would have one to... where did you even get a cat?"

The engineer laughed, he couldn't help it, he pressed the back of his hand over his mouth as he walked at Loki's side snickering. This was plainly adorable, like a child new to specialist terms – only that those were simple sayings and not some scientific babble that a kid would never understand. No, this one here was a god and he was disconcerted by the use of a word like catlick. Come on, how should he not laugh at that?

Loki was staring at him with a slightly confused, curious expression and eventually Tony explained: "It's a saying on... well, where I come from. Ain't got nothing to do with cats, it just means having... well, a short wash. Best way I can explain it."

The god just muttered something about "strange creatures" while they walked up a flight of stairs and entered his wing. He opened the door that Tony had to use his full weight for with one hand (not fair) and then gestured for the inventor to go ahead since his room was farther down the corridor than his own. He told Tony to change and then wait for him in the hallway in case that he was finished faster.

A few minutes later, Tony stepped out of his room again, having gotten rid of (most of) the flour and wearing a new tunic. Loki was already standing outside, leaning against a wall, and had also changed the complicated green and golden gown full of straps and buckles and ornaments he had worn before into an outfit that was almost identical to the one Tony wore, just that it was dark green and had small, golden ornaments on the sleeves and collar.

"Shall we?", he asked with a smile. "I would like to show you the gardens."

Tony felt his eyes widen. He was going outside. Possibly a bit too enthusiastic, he nodded and hurried over to the god, trying to look not too excited. He had never really appreciated gardens and nature and all that, but after spending months in captivity and that mostly on foreign planets (not that it mattered, because he rarely got to see the outside world), he was dying to see a sun again (and not just through the window of his chamber), even if it wasn't his.

Judging by Loki's amused smile, he did seem very eager, but really didn't matter now. He was going outside! As dignified as he managed (which meant that he was hardly bouncing up and down because of excitement) he followed the god's lead. Soon they passed a pair of golden doors and a gush of fresh, but warm air hit the inventor's skin. He stopped, closing his eyes, and just took some deep breaths. The air here was not as painfully hot and dry or humid or cold as on some planets he had visited so far. When he didn't open his eyes, he could almost pretend that he was back on earth, the sun caressing his skin and the smell of flowers hanging distinctly, but not obnoxiously sweet in the air.

After about half a minute, he forced himself to open his eyes again and immediately glanced over to Loki. The prince looked thoughtful, not in an angry way, but like he had just realized something.

Of course, you idiot, you're showing weaknesses all the time, he has probably just realized how pathetic you actually are, Tony scolded himself and lowered his gaze to the ground. Loki appeared to notice his discomfort because he asked: "Shall we get going, then?" His tone was light, probably purposefully so, and held no reproach or anything even remotely resembling it. He was just too damn friendly to be real.

"Yeah", the inventor replied anyway and looked ahead. A way made of grey marble led, in between bushes and flowers, trough the garden which was so big that he couldn't make out an end. The plants were works of art, every single one trimmed to perfection. As said before, Tony was no fan of nature and especially not so in this caged form, but the sheer amount of colours and smells he had missed for so long allowed him to forget that for a while as he followed Loki. It was almost enough to create an illusion of home, and maybe it was a sign of weakness, but he would give anything for that feeling after months of being away.

Loki didn't speak a word while he led the inventor further and further into the garden. Somewhere in the distance there was the sound of water and a few minutes later, they reached a square, completely devoid of people, with a large fountain in its middle. At the edges of the place, there are stone benches and the god gestured towards one of them with a questioning look. Tony, not wanting to interrupt the peaceful silence either, nodded and walked the few steps separating him from the seating accommodation before flopping down onto it. It was definitely more decorative than comfortable, but he was sure that they had walked for at least half an hour and although that didn't really sound like much, he simply wasn't used to so much movement anymore (which was a pretty depressing fact if he came to think about it, but he really didn't want it to destroy his peaceful mood right now). Loki sat down beside him, leaving a respectful distance and the engineer closed his eyes once again.

It was some minutes later that his companion broke the quietude with a softly spoken question: "You enjoy it out here, don't you?" Warily, Tony opened his eyes and looked at him while he nodded slowly, but he refrained from saying anything. "How would you feel about accompanying me for a ride tomorrow? Thor and his friends want to go on a hunt, and as much as I loathe their stupid bantering that I'll have to endure, I think you would love Vanaheim's plains and forests."

"I... think I'd like that", the inventor replied slowly, cautiously. "But I've never actually ridden a horse before, except for some lessons I took when I was a child, and that's years ago, so I'm not sure if I'd be able to keep up with you guys..."

Loki's face lit up like a Christmas tree and he stood up from the bench with a grin as he asked: "Would you like me to teach you?"

If you start hopping up and down and squealing, then I'm leaving, Tony thought but managed to keep the thought to himself. Jeez, this guy looked like a horse-novel fangirl. Or, um, boy. Whatever.

"I think I'd break an arm", he pointed out carefully. "Or my neck. Or my everything."

"There is no need to be afraid", Loki assured, still beaming like he had just gotten his heart's wish (which was to teach a slave horseback-riding? Well, to each his own) and seeing that he had spent the morning in some council meeting that was probably just as exciting as the Stark Industries board meetings had been, maybe he was really just happy to have an opportunity to move a bit. Tony would bet his ass that Loki would look a lot more graceful than him, but well, for a trip through Vanaheim...

"Wait a second", he said, holding up a finger. "Vanaheim, you said? And you called this place Asgard? Are you actually telling me you're Loki? Like, Loki-Loki? And your brother is Thor as in god-of-thunder-Thor?"

"I thought I told you the day before", Loki answered with a confused frown. "Don't you remember?"

"Yes, but I... I didn't think..." Tony desperately tried to remember what he had read about mythology. Which wasn't very much. There was Zeus, Amor – no, wrong one. Uh, Thor, Loki, Odin... "Thor's not your brother, is he?", he asked while trying to get a grip on the name on the tip of his tongue. "Weren't you... ah, I almost got it, wait..."

"Of course Thor is my brother", the god interrupted. "We grew up together longer than I can even remember."

"But..." Tony frowned and stared at the patterns on the pavement. Loki hadn't been Odin's son, had he? But it was years ago that he had read those books, so maybe he was just mixing things up here. Changing the topic, he asked: "Hey, does that mean I'm about to ride your son?"

He still had a feeling like he really needed to remember something important about Loki and Odin.