Author's note: Happy New Year, everyone! May you all have an awesome 2013! :D
As the Christmas and New Year holidays are about over for me now, updates will probably slow down a little bit as compared to these last couple of weeks. However, I'm hoping I should still be able to update this story twice a week at least. :)
The next time he runs into Loki is in the library. The god is flopped down into one of the brown leather armchairs, nose deep into a book, one foot drawn up under him. He seems fully immersed in the thing, which looks like it weighs at least a couple of pounds. More like a brick than an actual book.
Tony doesn't come here very often. The books lining the shelves here are pretty old, many of them classics that everyone claims to have read but no one really has (including Tony), while his personal preferences rather involve the latest developments in science and technology. The idea of ploughing through Macbeth or Ulysses until his eyes are bleeding never held much appeal to him.
He leans against the door frame, watching the little scene before him. Loki is too engrossed in whatever it is he's reading to notice that he has an audience, idly flipping a page every now and then. It doesn't seem to be one of the Eddas this time, though, and Tony can't help but feel a sting of curiosity. What would a Norse god of mischief be reading, really? Especially one as arrogant as Loki who would probably find anything written by a puny human unworthy of his notice.
Perhaps he should just leave Loki to his own devices and continue on to where he was heading – his DVD player and the coach where he was planning on plonking himself down to watch a movie.
But, as usual, curiosity gets the better of him and instead of turning around to leave, he unfurls himself from the door frame and saunters nonchalantly into the room, as if he has a planned errand in here and didn't make a detour just because Loki happened to be around.
He sits down in the armchair opposite to the one Loki is currently occupying, making a show of stretching his limbs and yawning contentedly before settling himself into a comfortable position. The brown leather creaks as he adjusts his body, as if it is protesting the unwelcome intrusion.
Loki doesn't look up but Tony can tell that the god has stopped reading.
"I see you have found something of interest in my humble library. Do pray tell, what human book title is it this time that has managed to catch a god's attention?" The question comes out more mocking and condescending than he had intended, but whatever. "101 Ways to Subjugate the Human Race? How to Become a Ruler of Earth in Ten Quick Steps?"
Loki tenses, but the look he gives Tony is blank. "Crime and Punishment," he answers simply, folding the book cover so that the title becomes visible.
Crime and Punishment, huh? Not a book that has ever been on Tony's reading list. It's one of those heavy-ass Russian classics, but that's about the extent of his knowledge. Though he thinks it has something to do with a murder, and Siberia and the Gulags. Or maybe that was some other book that he hasn't read either.
"Fascinating subject, huh?" he can't help but comment. "I venture that our human justice system differs quite a lot from the way that justice is dispensed in Asgard, doesn't it?"
"It does," Loki agrees blandly, not seeming like he has any inclination to discuss the subject further.
Tony doesn't suffer from the same hang-ups, though. "Gotta give it to you guys, you really have creative ways of administrating justice, though in some regards a bit… quaint." He taps his finger against his chin as in contemplation before continuing. "So do people often get sentenced to slavery over in Asgard? Like, I don't know, for trying to overthrow the Allfather and that kind of stuff?"
"It's been known to happen."
"Uh-huh. Though I bet you're the first one to be sentenced to become a slave of a mortal Midgardian."
"I am not familiar with any other such cases," comes the terse reply.
"So you're a pioneer then, Reindeer Games, breaking new ground and all. But that's alright, everyone's gotta go down in the history books for something."
The comment doesn't provoke a response, so he decides to go at it again. He's not really sure where he's taking this, but it's hard to pass up the opportunity to watch Loki squirm in his seat, like a cornered rabbit unable to escape. Or perhaps a viper would be a more appropriate comparison, one that Tony is prodding with a stick for the sheer amusement of it.
It's not like Tony ever claimed to be a graceful winner, and sometimes you just got to rub it in a little. Especially when the loser is Loki.
"Seeing as how institutionalized slavery has been forbidden in the civilized parts of the world for quite some time, I'm kind of curious how this whole slave business works in practice. What is it that slaves are expected to do, really? Because frankly, I can't see all that many uses for you," Tony says, his comment making Loki shrink back a little.
The look the god gives him is suspicious, as if he is trying to find some hidden motive in Tony's prodding. "They do what their masters decide that they'll do," he finally says, warily.
"And what would that usually entail on Asgard?"
"Any work that needs to be done in a normal household. Kitchen chores, taking care of the cattle, cleaning, serving at the table, preparing meals, and… other things."
"Such as?"
Loki shifts in his seat. "Serving as bed slaves."
Bed slaves? As in…? Now it's Tony who is shifting in his seat. He sincerely regrets ever asking. Quickly, he looks for something else to say that will steer the conversation onto a more comfortable track. Anything at all.
You were about to go watch a DVD before you somehow strayed in here, his brain helpfully supplies.
Yeah, that will do.
"Seriously, that book looks helluva tedious. Why don't I show you a more interesting kind of cultural entertainment that this planet has to offer? You've ever watched a movie, Rudolph?"
No, Loki has never watched a movie before in his long life, and frankly he doesn't have any desire to be exposed to such dull human entertainment.
He would have liked to turn down Tony's proposal, but his danger radar and self-preservation instinct both tell him that it's probably a better option to agree. Suggestions made to slaves are usually nothing but veiled commands, after all. And a pleased Tony is better than a displeased one, especially if Loki is the one responsible for the displeasing part. So he follows Tony into the living room without complaint, three steps behind.
The screen hanging on the far wall is big, covering a substantial part of it. Tony nods in its general direction and proudly says something containing the words brand new and inches and dollars, but it doesn't mean much to Loki. For all he cares, it's a flat screen on a wall, so he only listens with one ear to Tony's prattling.
Having finished his little monologue, Tony squats down on the floor and starts rummaging through piles of flat, box-like things, mumbling to himself what sounds like disapproving comments for every box in his hand that goes back onto the floor again. Loki remains standing, eyeing him at a safe distance. He supposes the boxes with pictures on them are movies, though Tony seems to have a hard time deciding.
After a few minutes of this, Tony looks up.
"Have a seat, will you? It's kind of distracting, having you towering over there like a misplaced flagpole."
There's a couch behind him, but it's not that big and probably wouldn't seat more than four people squeezed in. He hesitates for a few seconds, not sure what's expected. In Asgard, slaves are never seated at the same level as their masters, or other free people. If there aren't any lower benches or chairs around, slaves will kneel on the ground, anything else would be above their station. True, Tony did have him sit at the same table as him during mealtime, but it's impossible for even a slave to eat from a table while sitting on the floor. A coach somehow seems different. He eyes the piece of furniture, but in lack of other guidelines, he sits down on the floor instead.
Besides, the more distance he keeps between himself Tony, the better. For various reasons.
"Coach not good enough for you?"
Okay, so it would seem he picked the wrong alternative.
"The floor is fine," he says, but the disapproving look on Tony's face is not difficult to interpret, so he scoots backwards and hoists his ass up onto the couch, obeying the unspoken order.
The couch is actually rather comfortable.
Apparently satisfied, Tony turns his attention back to his previous activities. "So what kind of movies do you prefer, Bambi? Horror, action, drama… " He shuffles a few of the boxes around in his hands, eyeing each critically before turning it down and placing it next to its already discarded comrades on the ground. "No, wait, I know!" He points a knowing finger at Loki. "You're the romantic comedy type of guy, right?"
He isn't sure if he's supposed to deign that question with an answer, so he just replies that he has no particular preferences. Not like Tony won't pick whatever he likes anyway, regardless of Loki's input.
"You're not helping me out here at all, Reindeer Games," Tony chides him, having obviously preferred another answer.
Loki says nothing, just frowns slightly at yet another one of those silly Midgardian insults. Frankly, he is growing rather tired of them, though it goes deeper than mere annoyance. Tony has already taken Loki's freedom, followed by the clothes that were his last connection to Asgard, and to top it off, the man won't even grant Loki the use of his real name. Like he's not even entitled to such simple acknowledgements anymore, like Tony has given his darndest to take everything away from him, including even his own name. Which is about all he has left, save his life, which doesn't really count as it technically belongs to Tony now.
The man is more perceptive than Loki gives him credit for, though.
"Don't like it when I call you 'Reindeer Games', Bambi?" Tony places a hand over his heart, pretending shocked insult. "And here I took such care to think it up just for you." He smacks his lips in feigned sadness, shaking his head.
The usual mockery. Loki tells himself that he will not let it get to him. Maybe it's a game Tony is playing, trying to provoke Loki to anger and then punish his slave for acting out of turn.
And Tony clearly is about to up it, as another one of those shit-eating grins comes over the man's lips.
"But if you don't like it, I'm sure we can arrange another deal. I'll address you with your name – Larry or Lenny or whatever it is, I've forgotten – if you'll address me as 'Master'." The look he gives Loki is smug. "How about it?"
Loki winces inwardly. Sure, if Tony were to order him, he wouldn't have a choice, but addressing a mortal with such a title is more than humiliating for a god. Although, to be honest, he's surprised that Tony hasn't insisted on it already – it's the normal title of address that a slave in Asgard would use, after all. Still, his mouth feels like it's full of ashes merely thinking about speaking such a deferent word to Tony.
Tony watches Loki for a little while, and then shrugs as he turns away. "Well, I suppose no deal then, Reindeer Games."
The man continues to rummage through the piles in silence, as Loki merely watches dully. Then, Tony suddenly raises a hand in triumph, showcasing his pick.
"Here we go – the perfect movie for the night!" He holds the box out to Loki so he can read the title.
Reindeer Games.
The look on his face must be amusing since Tony chuckles while he puts the disc into the player, then plops himself down on the couch next to Loki.
The movie is every bit as stupid and insipid as expected.
Still, it's infinitely better than the alternative of being tortured to death in the dungeons back in Asgard.
Yes, 'Reindeer Games' is apparently a movie. And no, I've never watched it.
Please review. :)