Author's note: And so we're back to only Loki and Tony again…
As eager as Thor had been when he came here, he had seemed almost as eager to go back home again and try to convince his daddy that his little brother deserved better than spending the rest of his life as someone's property.
And frankly, Tony sort of suspects that part of it might have had something to do with Loki's behaviour. It hadn't exactly been welcoming or joyful. More like accusatory and blaming, from what he'd seen.
As tempting as it had been, he hadn't listened in on any of their private conversations, though. Sure, he had stood there for several minutes hunched over one of his monitors, debating with himself whether to tell Jarvis to bring up a live feed from the only other currently occupied room in the tower. He had been close, because Tony Stark is nothing if not a nosy bastard, but in the end he had decided not to. There was just something about the situation that had held him off.
Probably the fact that Loki is his slave, and as such not entitled to privacy or to anything whatsoever, according to Asgard's way of doing things. And perhaps that's why, in a roundabout kind of spite, he'd let the guy have his little family reunion without someone listening in on it.
Hundreds of years of family issues to work out, perfect fodder for any American talk show worth its name. And he'd rather not touch that with a ten-foot pole if he can avoid it. It's not like his own family relations were ever stellar, so he's hardly in any position to talk or offer advice to anyone else in that regard.
He looks down at the broken beta-electro-transformer, lying in pieces on the workbench in front of him where he left it after Thor unexpectedly came knocking, the only remaining reminder of his alien visitor.
Now, the god is back in Viking space land again, as quickly gone as he had come. And there are so many things that Tony had wanted to ask him, but had never gotten around to.
What am I going to do with Loki now? What it is that Asgard expects of me? What do you expect of me?
But he just couldn't bring himself to do it. It was too awkward discussing the more… personal aspects of Loki's slavery with Thor. Sure, he had no problem telling the guy exactly how fucked-up he thought Asgard's justice system was, or how much he didn't approve of this situation, but he'd still been unable to bring up all those other things.
He remembers clear as a day that teetering moment, when he had found himself face to face with a flustered and yet oddly subdued Thor, right after the god had been given admittance to the tower. The grip on his arm, slightly trembling as Thor looked at him without speaking a word, face taut and gaze burning with emotions. The unspoken question in his eyes, the unmasked fear, the worry, the flicker of uncertainty crossing his features – all could easily be read in the god's face before he had spoken even a word. And he could see the silent prayer, the unspoken plea that things would be alright, that there was no reason to worry, that everything was fine. The way Thor was desperately trying to decipher the look on Tony's own face, hoping to see none of the things he was so obviously fearing, was painful to watch and made his throat constrict.
They had stood still like that for a few heartbeats as if time had frozen, looking into each other's eyes, Thor's hand on his arm, neither of them speaking a word. Seeing Thor like that just made his heart lurch. Of course, if there had ever been the slightest shadow of a doubt in his mind why Thor was here, it was gone the moment the god stood before him. It was obvious that he knew. He knew of Loki's sentence, of his being here in the tower, of his having been made Tony's slave.
And before Thor could bring himself to ask, Tony had assured him, said the words Thor had been hoping to hear, but fearing he might not. Your brother is fine. I haven't hurt him.
Perhaps 'fine' was a lie, perhaps it wasn't the truth at all. But he had the feeling that for Thor, merely the reassurance of Loki being safe would be enough for the moment. The other things could be dealt with… later.
He had thought, then, that perhaps he could talk more with Thor about Loki, about the situation, about… everything. Perhaps he just needed someone to talk with period. Thor would be the only one he could ever breech the subject of Loki with in any way, the only person who wouldn't run screaming to SHIELD if they knew who he was harbouring in his tower.
It would have been the perfect opportunity to let some steam off, to just run his mouth off about the situation to someone who could finally listen to him vent his frustrations. Someone who might even have been able to, in some small measure, help him deal with the things that had been thrown upon him, or at least offered a few pieces of advice along the way.
But his tongue had refused to obey him. He had found neither the right moment nor the right words to say all the things he had wanted to say.
And soon after, while he was still trying to gather his thoughts into words and his concerns into sentences, Thor had announced that he was leaving with haste for Asgard.
And the moment, if there ever was one, was gone.
He's still angry at himself for that, annoyed that he didn't take the chance when he had it right there at his fingertips. Here, in his own home, had been the very person who knew Loki better than anyone, who had grown up with the now enslaved god and understood him. Someone who was familiar with Asgard's culture and reasoning and behaviour and expectations, and could guide him along the rocky and thorny road.
He could have talked to Thor, could have asked him to help him out in all his confusion and uncertainty.
But in the end, he hadn't.
Of course, Loki had had his chance as well, to talk to someone steeped in the same culture as him, someone who knew him, someone who could help him out. Who understood him in a way that Tony doesn't, and certainly never will.
But from what he had gathered from seeing the two gods together, Loki hadn't taken his offered chance either.
Nope, they had both let it slip between their fingers, the best chance either of them had had to get some outside assistance from perhaps the only person who might have been able to if not resolve things, then at least help them out a little bit on the way.
But Thor left, before any of that could happen, leaving them both stranded on square one. He curses his own stupidity. Perhaps Thor couldn't have done much to improve the situation, but he might at least have paved the way for some alleviation of all this confusion.
And now he's stuck with the same sullen, unhappy god as before, who's trying to avoid conversation and looks as mopy as a wet poodle. Not long ago, he had actually thought he might be getting somewhere with Loki. That perhaps the god was starting to come to terms a little bit with his situation, loosening up a little. But now things seem to have regressed again.
Obviously, a discontented god of mischief and worse is not boding well. Like a ticking time bomb that might be planning who knows what. It's not a pleasant thought at all.
Then again, from what he could tell, Thor's visit had only served to put Loki into an ever crappier mood, so Tony isn't sure just how much difference the thunder god could have made, even if Tony had talked to him.
And what should he have asked in the first place? So, any particular movies you think your little brother might enjoy? You think he'd like it if I bought him a hamster to play with? Did you know that he expected me to rape him?
He sighs, rubbing his palms across his face. Perhaps it's just as well that he never got around to any serious talking with Thor. Somehow, he's afraid it might eventually have come down to those unsavoury and unpleasant things – Loki's previous expectations of him, his contemplating killing himself because of what he'd thought Tony was going to do to him.
And damn, that's just something he can't see himself bringing up with Thor. But in the end, perhaps it would have been impossible to avoid.
So in that respect, he's relieved that Thor left before any truly uncomfortable and awkward questions could be asked. Even if the guy wouldn't have held anything against him or accused him in any way, he'd still rather have to sit through a ten hour long session of the theme song to Spongebob Squarepants than breech that particular topic with Thor.
But still…
Sure, Thor had said during pizza that he was heading back home, but Tony hadn't expected that it would be so soon. He'd thought he would have stayed around for a couple of days so that there'd be time to talk, not that he'd walk up to Tony and announce he was leaving now.
And he still remembers the way Thor had squeezed his shoulder, the look in his eyes, the heartfelt 'thank you for everything' that wasn't really referring to Tony's hospitality.
But in the end, he's none the wiser now than before Thor came here, except that the importance that Loki doesn't escape has been even more firmly imprinted in his brain. He's promised the thunder god that much.
Oh well, at least he can do that – it's what he's been doing all this time up until now, and has every intention to keep doing.
After Thor's visit, things are once more back to normal, everything as it was before he stopped by Tony's tower.
And Loki is sitting on his usual spot on the floor again, sorting papers and documents, the supply seemingly endless.
His focus is interrupted by the sound of footsteps incoming. They come to a halt before him at talking distance, and Loki stops what he's doing, letting the hands clutching the latest pile of papers fall down into his lap as he waits for whatever it is that Tony is about to say to him.
At first, there is only silence, and Loki just sits there staring straight ahead of him at the legs that are taking up most of his view, not looking up. He's not sure what the man is expecting him to do, really – standing up as a sign of respect as opposed to lazily lounging on the floor, or remaining where he is, his lower position appropriate for a slave before his master.
He remains sitting. There are papers in his lap he would otherwise have to move out of the way, and if Tony wants him standing up, he'd say so.
Then, Tony suddenly crouches down before him, placing himself on equal eye level with Loki. The movement takes him by surprise, because it makes little sense why Tony would want to lower himself to the same level as his slave like this instead of just talking down to him, which is the way slaves are normally spoken to.
"Well, Reindeer Games," Tony says, his fingertips softly tapping against each other as he studies Loki. "Looks like there's only you and me again."
There's a short pause, as if Tony is considering what to say next. "I talked to Thor before he left," the man continues, gaze not leaving Loki's for a second. "He told me what would happen if you should try to escape and Heimdall caught wind of it."
He's not sure if he's expected to comment on that, but since he has nothing to add, he keeps quiet. In the end, it should make little difference, if any, whether Tony is familiar with the details of that or not.
"You sure do things differently in Asgard, don't you?" Tony makes a disapproving grimace. "Quite understandably, your brother was very adamant that you should avoid that particular fate. And you really should be too, if even half of what he told me is true."
Tony shifts a little bit where he's crouching, adjusting his weight to a more comfortable position. "Anyway, I promised him I'll make sure you stay put and don't go venturing off anywhere you shouldn't." He points a finger at Loki, fixing him with an unrelenting stare. "So don't even think about doing anything stupid like that, alright? Because you'll break your poor brother's little heart if you do, and my promise as well."
And Loki's heart sinks to the floor at those words, because he realizes what they mean – Tony will never in a million years let him leave the tower now, not after this. Not that there was ever truly any question about that, but whatever tiny hope he might still have entertained has now been effectively squashed.
His head sinks and he looks down to the floor as a wave of hopelessness washes over him and his throat constricts. No, he will never get to go outside now. There's no way that Tony will risk it, not when he has promised Thor to make sure Loki won't escape. He's glad he's already sitting down; he isn't sure his knees would have been able to hold his weight up right now.
There's suddenly a finger under his chin, tilting his face up until he's looking Tony in the eyes again. He suppresses a jerk. The touch is light, not harsh or painful in any way, but the intimacy of the gesture still serves as another unwelcome reminder of his position. Had he still been free, no one would have touched him in such a way without his permission. But of course, slaves have no rights to personal space or to their own bodies and their masters are perfectly free to touch them in any way they wish.
And just like he has no say in that, he similarly has no say in whether he will ever get to go outside at all.
"All clear?" Tony's voice echoes in his ears.
And it's clear, all so perfectly, devastatingly clear.
"Yes," he answers hollowly, feeling like the air above him is trying its best to squeeze him into the ground.
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