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"Another pop tart, big guy? Always helps with the valley parts of those mood swings, or so I've heard." Tony says, holding out the box of sugary goodness to the god hunched opposite to him, chin resting in his hands and elbows on the tabletop, the very picture of exhausted weariness.
Listlessly, but easily convinced nonetheless, a large hand mechanically reaches inside the box and then retreats with a piece of pastry clutched between strong fingers.
"Thank you, my friend," Thor says, but doesn't bring the pop tart to his mouth, only stares dully at it like it's a foreign object of unknown use.
"Uh, so I take it the reunion with your long-lost brother didn't go too well?" Tony says, knowing it's bad manners to pry into other people's personal business but not particularly caring. It's not as if he can't have Jarvis replay the whole conversation between the two gods once Thor has left the room, should he want to.
Thor's eyes slowly drift away from the pop tart in his hand that is well on the way of being reduced to crumbs in his iron grip, and comes to rest at Tony's face.
"All in all, it went better than expected. I knew before coming here what the nature of Loki's accusations towards me would be, so it was nothing I had not already prepared myself for." The pastry breaks in two and falls out of Thor's hand, but he doesn't seem to notice. "It still saddens me, however, to see my brother reduced to… this."
Strangely, there is no accusation directed at Tony in those words, none at all that he can discern. Truth be told, he had been a bit worried when Thor came knocking without warning, requesting to see his brother, but there seemed to be no hard feelings on his part despite the situation. Not that Tony had had any say in Loki's sentence or ever wanted a would-be world conqueror living in his tower, of course, but he's still Loki's master-slash-custodian-slash-babysitter or whatever you want to call it.
"Well, to be honest with you, Point Break, this isn't my idea of fun and games either. Maybe I'm supposed to be flattered that Asgard decided to dump this little surprise gift on my doorstep, but I'm really anything but."
Thor's face is solemn, but understanding.
"I am sorry my father has caused you such trouble on behalf of my brother," he says, sounding slightly guilty, as if this whole situation is somehow a result of his doings. "However, as Loki's most grievous wrong-doings were committed against Midgard, Odin and the Council found it just that restitutions for his crimes should be paid in your realm, and unfortunately there is nothing anyone of us can do to change it."
Tony leans back, hands folded behind his head, tipping the chair so that it precariously balances his weight on only two legs. He is not in a particularly good mood, and Thor's sort-of acceptance of the whole thing doesn't sit right with him. In fact, the complacence irks him like a rusty spike sewn into his shirt, spiky end facing inwards.
"Well, didn't you guys ever get the memo about slavery being all fucked-up and wrong?" he throws out, finally losing his patience. "And I don't just mean 'Conan the Barbarian remake'-wrong but 'Conan the Barbarian wearing a pink skirt and joining the Salvation Army remake'-wrong. You guys are supposed to be the advanced race here, as opposed to us puny mortals scrambling around on the ground like confused ants, leading out our short and insignificant lives in deplorable ignorance." He jabs his thumb at Thor, daring him to explain himself.
Of course he knows it's not Thor's fault, not any more than Tony is personally responsible for the torture and imprisonment without due process that is still commonplace in various places on planet Earth, but the awkwardness of sitting here having a conversation with the brother of someone who is technically his slave is just a tad too much, so he tries to shift the focus – the blame? – to somewhere else.
The fact that Thor doesn't blame him, doesn't hold anything against him is in a way even more disturbing than his pointing an accusing finger, announcing that it's all Tony's fault, would have been. And Thor's acquiescing acceptance of his brother's punishment is hard too fathom. In that moment, he realizes that for all of Thor's eager, at times almost childish fondness for Midgardian manners and customs, the adaptation is only skin deep; there are still worlds lying between them, and not just in the physical sense.
"It is the Allfather's ruling," Thor replies sadly. "This is how Asgard's justice system works."
"Hate to burst your bubble, Flash Gordon, but the Allfather is a major dick, if he thinks sentencing his own son to slavery is anything even close to okay," Tony prods, tipping the chair a bit further back.
Thor's eyes narrow, and Tony can swear he feels the air around him grow heavy and humid, as if a thunder storm is approaching. "Be careful how you speak of my father, Man of Iron. I might be a guest in your house, but I will not tolerate further insults like that."
There is a tense silence during which Thor seems to calm himself, and the barometer pressure returns to normal levels before he continues. "I might not be happy about it, but Loki's sentence is meant to be a punishment for his grave transgressions, and surely you mortals punish criminals and wrong-doers here on Midgard as well?"
"Well, duh," Tony says, rolling his eyes. "Sure we do. We even have these special lovely resort facilities with barb wire around them where we keep those people, everything from teenagers enjoying a bit of Mary Jane to crazy mass murderers. Doesn't mean we freaking enslave them, though. We do have some standards, and this whole revenge-thing and eye-for-an-eye doesn't fly here."
"At the heart of every punishment lies a desire for vengeance, a sense of retribution on behalf of those wronged," Thor says gravely, and it makes Tony wonder when it was that Thor ever got interested in debating judicial philosophy. The Thunderer looks up from where his fingers are prodding the sad remains of the crushed pop tart lying forlorn on the table, and nails Tony with a steely, unwavering look boring right into him. "You speak as if the Aesir are morally inferior, as if you mortals never succumb to the lure of petty revenge. But tell me, when Loki was delivered to your doorstep, did you feel no personal gratification whatsoever at seeing him, the man who has so grievously wronged both you and your realm, subjugated and brought low before you?"
Okay, so that hits just a tad bit too close to home for comfort. Especially given that the god asking him that question is Loki's own brother, which makes for a level of awkwardness that far exceeds what should be maximum exposure for one single person in a month.
It's not only that, though, because Thor's simple question makes a prickle of guilt stab at his innards as he remembers his own immediate reaction, and the first few days that followed after Loki was brought here. The satisfaction at seeing the god that had pulled so much shit on Earth that it wasn't even funny kneeling at his feet, powerless and exposed… yes, there had been a heady rush surging through him like a potent mixture of adrenaline and alcohol and god knows what. Not something he can say he's proud of, looking back on it.
"And perhaps that is precisely why handing people over to those they have wronged isn't such a swell idea. Seriously, if I had been just a tad more vindictively inclined, I might very well have gutted him then and there, or at least bashed his head in with a big rubber mallet," he throws out, hoping to make Thor realize what could have been the fate of his precious little baby brother under less favourable circumstances.
"And you would have been well within your rights, as much as the fact grieves me."
Okay, not at all the answer he had been expecting. Especially not from Thor, who's the poster picture of forgiveness and gracious second chances when it comes to Loki.
And it makes Tony cringe on the inside. For all he cares, Thor should be raging, fuming, calling forth black clouds of thunder as he canalizes his wrath into a fire show of lightning splitting the sky, but nothing of the sort happens. Because having grown up in Asgard, with their pre-packaged views on concepts like justice and slavery, apparently comes with a set of value dissonance that Tony can't even begin to unravel. He realizes, then, that there is no point in continuing this discussion, no use trying to persuade Thor of his point of view.
So he decides to change the subject instead.
"Doesn't Odin realize he's kinda tempting fate here, placing an enslaved criminal in a single person's custody like this? I know Loki's got those pretty magic bracelets and all so he can't turn people into cockroaches or turn all traffic lights green at the same time anymore, but what's to keep him from sneaking off and heading for the hills?" Tony asks, cocking his head to the side.
"I mean, not that he'll get past even the first layer of security in this tower, but I doubt that Allfather almighty has any clue about artificial intelligence and motion detectors and electronic locks and all that fancy stuff that will keep Loki from getting even his pinky toe across the threshold unless I want him to. Correct me if I'm wrong, but wouldn't keeping a guy like Loki locked up in a dungeon be a lot safer option than placing him in someone's house?" Not that the Aesir seem like the epitome of logical reasoning, but there's gotta be some thought behind it all.
Thor shakes his head sadly. "They know he won't try to escape. Heimdall is keeping watch."
O-kay, so that clears it all up. Not. "And exactly who's this Heimdall?" The name does ring a bell, though it's one of those small, jingly ones rather than the kind that hangs in church towers.
"Heimdall guards the Bifrost, the rainbow bridge," Thor informs him. "However, that is not all he does. He is also the watchman of Asgard, and he sees everything in the Nine realms that he turns his eye towards. He's been given the task of keeping an extra watch on Loki, to make sure he does not escape or cause any further trouble in the human realm."
Tony can't help but smirk. "Wow, sounds like you've got quite the peeping Tom there, buddy. Who would have known that even the gods have such raging perverts roaming in their midst?" He scratches his goatee thoughtfully, thumb running across his cheek. Then he points a finger at Thor and scoots forward, an eager expression on his face. "Hey, you'd think there'd be any chance he'd be willing to lend that power to me as a reward for my active participation in carrying out Asgard's judicial rulings? I mean, there's this really hot chick with legs a mile long who lives a few blocks away, and I'd love the chance to sneak a peak when she -"
"Please, this is no laughing matter," the god interrupts him, holding up a hand for silence. "As I said, should my brother escape, it will come to Heimdall's knowledge soon enough, and there would be a scouting party sent out to find him and bring him back to Asgard for execution." The last word is spoken in a throaty whisper, as if Thor thinks that merely speaking it out loud will bring ill fortune.
And Tony isn't sure he wants to know, but he has to ask anyway, or he wouldn't be Tony.
"And exactly how would he be executed, should he try to escape?"
Thor tells him, and Tony can feel his face go at least three shades paler. These Norse gods don't mess around. And they sure as hell don't play nice either.
"So, uh, what's wrong with just chopping his head off? It sure would be a lot less, well, messy for the cleaning crew," he says, trying to sound flippant but knowing he's failing when he hears the strain in his own voice.
Thor has that sad puppy-face back on again. "It is how things are done among the Aesir; however, I do not expect you to understand Asgardian justice, my friend. Sometimes I'm not sure that I… fully understand everything of it myself." He shakes his head, as if slightly confused by his own admission.
Tony ponders this, but before he can answer it's Thor's turn to abruptly change the subject. "Friend, I am tired and weary after my travels, and the hour is growing late. If you have a bed to spare in your abode, I would be most grateful."
Sure, Tony has a spare bed alright. Heck, he even has a spare floor, if need be. Or several of them, to be exact.
"No problem, buddy, just squeeze yourself into the first room to the left down that corridor," he points over his shoulder, rather glad for the conversation to come to an end. It's been a long day.
"I thank you for your gracious hospitality," Thor says formally and inclines his head in appreciation as he makes to stand up, his bright red robe making a dramatic flutter, and Tony can't help but wonder if there's some kind of Asgardian spell or enchantment placed on those things that make them billow so heroically from even the slightest movement. If Thor's pompous flair is at all any indication of what the Aesir are like in general, he sure wouldn't put it past them. Perhaps it's their version of Earth's designer brand jeans or blingy gold teeth.
Then there's suddenly a heavy hand squeezing his shoulder, pressing him down two thirds of the distance separating his face from the tabletop, as Thor comes to a halt next to him, ever not-mindful of the strength differences between gods and mortals.
"I also wish to thank you for my brother being in good health, despite the atrocities he has committed against your world and your people. You have treated him more kindly than what could reasonably be expected, and you have my gratitude, Man of Iron."
For once in his life, Tony doesn't really have a reply to offer.
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