Horseback-riding was awful. At least for the first two hours where Tony kept falling or almost falling from this beast underneath him that was just fucking huge. He didn't even get up its back without help and that was so damn embarrassing...

But when he slowly began to get a grip on how he had to move with the horse (and thank god(s) it only had four legs, because apparently, the eight-legged one did actually exist), he got almost close to admitting that it was actually fun. Sort of. Mostly it was just that he wasn't condemned to sitting around in a room all day but could move around pretty much freely and, judging by Loki's enthusiasm and all the little smiles and praises, Tony seemed to do really good.

They only stopped when the sun started to set. Tony fell from the horse more than he dismounted and it was really hard to decline Loki's offer to support him on the way back to the palace, but his pride (and the part of him that was still extremely uncomfortable with physical contact) just couldn't let him take the opportunity. He was an adult, he could walk just fine by himself.

"I will dine with Thor and his friends tonight", Loki told him as they passed the gates. "Would you like to join us?"

The inventor hesitated for a second, considering the offer – because it was an offer, not an order, right? He had a right to decide the way he wanted – before he replied: "Sounds good to me, but I think you'll need to show me how this bathtub works. I don't think I'm in shape for any dinner right now." Because he was sweaty as hell and definitely smelling like horse.

"Of course", came the reply and when they were back in Loki's wing, the first thing the god did was lead him into the bathroom and kneel down beside the tub. He looked up once to ensure the inventor was watching, then he swiped a hand over the marble and with a golden flicker, a control panel appeared.

Golden, of course, was Tony's first thought, the second following immediately: Holy shit, is that a holographic display? With a touch sensor? Do they actually have computers here?! Crouching down beside Loki, he asked: "How does that work?"

The prince, apparently surprised by his curiosity, looked at him thoughtfully for a second before answering: "Magic. It is difficult to explain to someone not familiar with its ways, but if you are interested, I promise to tell you something about it later."

"Sounds awesome", Tony agreed while he tried to not think too hard about the fact that he had just agreed to learn something about magic which he didn't believe in. But well, he'd seen a lot of things he didn't believe in these past few months, so maybe he shouldn't condemn the idea right from the start. He could always do that later. "How much time do I have?", he asked.

"We will meet up with the others in about an hour from now", Loki replied as he stood up. "I will clean myself as well. Should I pick you up from here when it's time?"

"Alright, let's do that", the engineer said distractedly while sitting in front of the control panel and examining the buttons. He thought he heard Loki chuckle as he left the room, but that could have been his imagination.

Had he really underestimated these Asgardians so much? Yes, Loki called it magic, but this was definitely some sort of computer. Tony tapped one of the buttons that were annotated with little symbols. It seemed to mean hot water, or at least he guessed it did, and as it was pushed there was indeed water running from little openings at the side of the tub, filling it up quickly.

For a few seconds, the inventor watched in fascination, then he stepped back to pull off his boots and the other clothes. Being out of the sticky tunic felt like heaven, although it confronted him with the image of himself in the mirror again, with the small black lines running over his chest like a net. He stared at it for a few seconds and briefly wondered if it was going to kill him – or, to pose the question in the right way, when it was going to kill him. He had known about the effects of palladium on the human body when he had installed the reactor in Afghanistan, but back then he had assumed that it would be just a temporary fix which he could replace later. Well, no luck with that.

He willed himself to turn away and walk down the steps leading into the tub. The water was warm and felt somehow soft, like a caress, and made him wonder when he'd last had a proper bath instead of cold, brief showers. It seemed far too long ago.

Water had made him nervous for a long time, and under the cold spray of the slave ship he had had more than one panic attack – being drowned was still one of the least pleasurable deaths he could imagine – that unsettled him for days afterwards, but this here was nothing like the greasy, icy water in the cave. It was warm, steaming even, and he had all the time in the world (alright, an hour, but that was more than enough) to get accommodated to it in a pace he could choose himself. After sweating on top of a horse for hours, it was wonderful to be able to get rid of dirt and whatever else stuck to him now. As a wonderful side effect, it helped him to forget his worries for a while, as cliché as it might sound. The warmth and the way the water flowed around him smoothly was perfect to make him close his eyes and just forget, relax, something he had not done in a time that felt like eternity.

After a while, Tony started to dwell in memories. They destroyed his peaceful moment as they brought up the same painful questions over and over again.

Is anyone still searching for me?

Did anyone find out what happened?

Is Obie – Obadiah – now what he wanted to be? The owner of Stark Industries? He is bound to have been caught by someone, right? Things like these don't just pass by unnoticed... right?!

What happened to Pepper? Rhodey? Happy?

...Does anyone even miss me?

True, he had been an annoying manchild during most of his time, and looking back at it – it seemed so far away now – some of it was really embarrassing. But it was who he was, and these people had accepted him like that. To think that he should have vanished out of their minds hurt, just thinking about it was horrifying.

Tony shook his head and exhaled a trembling breath, then breathed in deeply and submerged into the steaming water. He didn't stay under for too long, though, since it was still triggering yet more unpleasant memories. Instead, he randomly chose one of the small bottles standing on the edge of the tub and screwed the cab off to sniff at its contents. It smelled sort of herbal and he just hoped that it was some kind of shampoo and rubbed it into his hair. Well, it did produce a lot of bubbles, so he was probably right.

After washing himself properly and lounging around a little more, Tony forced himself out of the comfortable warmth of the bath. It was probably time for him to get ready for the dinner where he would, no doubt, be serving Loki. Seeing that it was pretty much the first time he got a task fit for a slave from Loki, he supposed that he could behave for the evening. To get into the god's good graces, of course, not because he liked being here far more than he should. No.

But, really, it would be nothing but dumb to give up his comfortable position here so fast, right? It didn't mean he had to like it, had to like Loki, but he could use the guy's friendliness, maybe just for a little while. Only until he found a chance to escape, of course. Up until then, he could play nice. Yup.

Tony, you're in so much trouble.

Sighing, he dried himself with a towel (or what he thought was a towel) and pulled on a fresh set of the clothes he had been given. Red tunic, black leather pants, boots. Alright then, ready for dinner.

Apparently, he had got some pretty good timing because not even two minutes later, there was a knock on the door of the chamber. A slave holder who knocks on his servant's door. I'm never going to understand this guy. Tony opened the door and was greeted by the sight of Loki obviously just coming from the bath, too; his black curls were still slightly damp and freshly combed back.

He looked the inventor up and down once and then asked, smiling: "Well, shall we?"

"We shall", Tony replied with a grin and followed while Loki led him through the golden hallways (god, there was no way he could escape from here – he had a good sense of orientation, but all of this looked just the fucking same! He'd just walk in circles over and over again) until they stopped in front of another large set of doors. Loki turned around briefly to explain: "We will dine in Thor's chambers tonight." Then, he pushed the door open without any noticeable strain (and these things were damn heavy) to reveal something that was probably the Asgardian equivalent of a living room, just larger and (surprise!) more golden. In the middle of it was a huge table where prince Goldilocks was already seated with his buddies, including the dark-haired woman with the short name.

"Brother!", Thor boomed and raised his mug, sending part of its contents splashing over the rim and onto the robe (or tunic or shirt, whatever) of the red-bearded one which earned him an elbow to the ribs. "You are moody today, Volstagg", the blonde remarked and got a snort in reply.

"No, I am soaked in your beer", the guy shot back sullenly and gulped down the contents of his own mug.

The woman leaned back in her seat with crossed arms and an eye-roll that said, more distinctly than words ever could, Grow up, you morons. The exchange had Tony snickering quietly and Loki threw him a questioning look, but never heard a word of explanation since there was an arm around his shoulders at the next moment.

"Loki, my dearest prince", the second blondie drawled with a shit-eating grin on his face, "how about you and me, just –"

"No", Loki interrupted. "I am still not taking you to bed. Try again later, please." With that, he shrugged Fandral's arm off and made his way to the table.

Tony gave the kind of awkward snorting laughter that happened when you were trying really hard not to laugh and it still happened. Fandral looked at him, grinning, and shrugged while saying: "He is no fun, is he?"

"Just how long are you doing this already?", the engineer asked while following Loki to the table.

"Oh, it might already be a century or two", the warrior replied lightly. Loki turned around and added: "Yes, around that. You are a persistent pest, aren't you."

Fandral showed a look of mock-hurt and held a hand to his heart. "Why do you ridicule my attempts to gain your everlasting affection so, my dearest prince?"

"Because you already have the everlasting affection of about every court lady. Something about that just makes me feel like your wooing is not quite serious", Loki deadpanned.

"All of them are mere distractions from you, my prince", Fandral retorted without missing a beat.

"How much should I wager that you tell this to every single one of them?", the mage responded.

Tony chimed in: "Do you have that kind of discussion, uhm... frequently?" He couldn't help but grin at the banter between the two that seemed like they had exchanged all their arguments a thousand times already.

"Yes", Loki replied immediately, while, in the exact same second, Fandral said: "No."

Tony just raised his eyebrows and grinned, clasping his hands together behind his back because he was unsure of what to do with himself. He would play nice, he decided. He needed to gain Loki's trust to escape and that would be easier if he acted like it was expected from a slave.

"Are you going to sit down sometime today?", Loki asked with a pointed look to the chair beside him.

Well, maybe the expectations were a bit different from what he had thought. Loki seemed like a person who was always in for a surprise. Perhaps, in another situation and possibly even another life, Tony would have liked him. He couldn't like him now, of course, for the obvious reasons... Although he had treated him nothing but good so far, but still. Liking him would be wrong, extremely wrong.

Shaking his head to get rid of his whirling thoughts, he seated himself on the chair next to Loki and revelled in the feeling to sit at a real table again, not on the floor on his knees or somewhere in a secluded chamber. It was something small, yes; he wouldn't have wasted a second thought to sitting at a table just a year ago, but now it made him feel... equal. It was incredibly relieving.

He eyed the table that was full of various kinds of food, some of them familiar, others looking completely foreign. Unsure if there was some proper etiquette, he glanced over at Loki who had just piled some purple fruits onto his plate and then returned his look with a small smile and a gesture towards the food.

"I am not going to serve you, Anthony", he said with a hint of amusement, although he didn't look malicious or even mocking. "Go on, eat."

Tony nodded, made a movement to reach out and hesitated again. "So, um, is there anything I need to be careful with? Like, I don't know, something I need to mind because I might insult someone's mother if I hold my spoon the wrong way?"

The mage blinked a few times and then broke into a quiet laugh, not loud and boisterous like Thor's that sounded from the other side of the table, but full of mirth nonetheless. Grinning, he replied: "No, there is nothing I can think of that you would need to mind. Since you did not grow up here, nobody expects you to know all our customs. I shall tell you if there is something wrong."

Nodding again, Tony grabbed one of the fruits (resembling peaches, but bigger and... well, purple) that he had seen Loki eating with his bare hands and followed the god's example. The strong, sweet taste of it practically exploded on his tongue and he coughed, fighting the urge to spit it out again. Instead, he swallowed it down and reached for a slice of warm bread, taking a large bite and soothing the ache in his mouth.

Of course, that didn't go by unnoticed and he felt himself pierced by Loki's quizzical look. The inventor smiled, slightly embarrassed, and tried to explain: "Sorry, I'm... uh... just not used to it anymore, I guess. I mean, that kind of... strong food. The most tasteful stuff I ate in the past... eight months?... was the bread yesterday, apart from that, most of it didn't really taste like anything much. So I was kinda surprised because that... thing", he gestured towards the purple fruit, "was so extremely sweet."

There was a flash of something in the prince's eyes, too fleeting for Tony to read, and then he turned back towards the table with a slow nod and reached across the table to get his hands on a deeply yellow fruit, telling Tony to try that one instead.

The rest of the dinner went by without anything remarkable (except maybe for a dialogue between Loki and Fandral that went along the lines of "If you throw me one more of your leering looks, Fandral, I am going to rip your eyeballs out and have them served to me for breakfast tomorrow", to which Fandral replied that then, he would have at least one part of him inside of Loki. Tony kinda liked the guy – his taste of humour was extremely refreshing).

He fell asleep fast that evening.

He breathes in, but there is only water filling his lungs, not the oxygen they are screaming for. Hands are holding him down and pressing him under water, the surface seeming to be miles and miles away.

As he resurfaces, it's not in a cave, but in a room full of cages filled with miserable... creatures, because the term people stopped applying to these beings a long time ago. None of them move, no-one does even seem to be appalled by what is happening right in front of them.

Just a second before his face gets pressed into the cold, greasy water again, Tony catches a glimpse of someone with tousled, strawberry-blond hair in one of the cages, her eyes resting on him impassively. She looks worn-out, tired, but most of all, absolutely uncaring. Tony has to admit that he would rather see her screaming, thrashing out, maybe even crying, but not like this. Not this... empty.

"Pepper!", he cries out, half of the word getting drowned with dirty, cold water again. His hands are useless, tied together behind his back and his struggles completely in vain. When he feels like he has drowned twice already, he is dragged back up so he can breathe in the air – but it's hot, almost burning his lungs and he can't really get any air in because he is still coughing up water, choking on what is still stuck in his throat. As soon as he can somehow breathe again, he rasps out: "Pepper!"

"Anthony!" That's wrong, she never calls him that. He doesn't have the time to dwell on that, though, because there are hands pulling on him, on his clothes, tearing and hurting.

"Pep", he forces out, trying to fight the hands and arms and... other body parts he doesn't want to think about. For a split-second, he is aware that this must be a dream because there are no actual bodies attached to them. He knows they're there, sure, but he can't see them, he just feels them pulling.

The moment of clearness is gone not soon after and he is yelling for Pepper again. He's not sure why since she is caged and doesn't even seem to notice him, but it's the only thing he feels able to do.

That is, until the pulling and tearing stops and he is kneeling right in front of her cage, looking up since it's dangling from the ceiling, and she asks with a bored expression: "Would that be all, Mr Stark?"

That would be all, Ms Potts.

His eyes widen – she doesn't care. She's just as impassive as she looks. She's –

– awake, he was awake and he was still screaming her name, his face wet with sweat and tears and dirty cave water – no, no, he was fine, he was in a room in a bed and he was...

"Are you with me, Anthony?"

"Fuck!" With a yelp, he bolted upright and stared at his bedside and the dark silhouette sitting there. It took him a moment until he recognized Loki and let out the breath that had been stuck in his throat, only now becoming aware of the hand on his shoulder and the fact that Loki was kneeling on the mattress beside him with wide, concerned eyes. What the hell was Loki doing in his bed? Tony's first instinct was to flinch away, but even with the nightmare still lingering he had enough self-control not to do so. Instead, he wiped his face clean (or as clean as the bed sheet allowed) and muttered indistinctly: "What're you doin' here, anyway?"

"You have been screaming", the god stated matter-of-factly and Tony winced. Great. There were a few beats of silence and he stared at his hands, still shaking slightly, curled around the sheet, until Loki asked: "Who is Pepper?"

The question was startling and there dozens of answers tumbled into Tony's mind at once. Assistant. Organiser. Pepper. Listener. A shoulder to cry on – even when I didn't actually meant to. Life-saver. Sister. Just Pepper.

Would that be all, Mr Stark?

He felt his eyes water again and pressed his palms against them, angry about this lack of self-control. He'd never cried in these past few months – screamed, raged, sometimes fell low enough to beg, but no crying – and now a simple question was enough? A personal question, yes; maybe that was the point. Being treated like a person rather than an object that was to be shaped and controlled.

With remarkable effort to keep his voice levelled, he answered: "She was a... very close friend of mine. Before I got... well." He exhaled a shuddering breath in another attempt to keep his tears at bay, still with his hands pressed over his eyes. "I think I had a crush on her, but she was pretty adamant about keeping everything professional, so..." God, he was stammering, this was so damn embarrassing. "We got along great, but now I don't even know if she's alive or if he decided she's too much of a threat to –" At the end of the sentence, his voice broke and slipped upwards at least an octave, announcing the sob that followed suit.

There was some rustling on the sheets beside him, then Loki somehow sneaked his arms around the inventor's frame and pulled him into a tight hug without saying a word. For a second, Tony tensed and somewhere a voice piped up, telling him that he totally shouldn't be allowing this, that he should be screaming and fighting against it, but there was another feeling, too.

He had fought for months, struggled and bitten and kicked and snapped, and he didn't regret one second of it. But maybe he was finally allowed to be weak for once.

oOo

Sooo... I'm through with my pre-written chapters, so you get a say now: Would you like to read something from Loki's perspective, too?