Author's note: Again, thanks for all the feedback and comments, they make me a happy writer! ^^
Another helping of papers has been sorted, and he stacks the filled folders into a passably neat pile on the floor next to the now empty box. Then, he merely sits there watching the folders for a little while, before his gaze inevitably drifts upwards to the window on the wall opposite.
The bright light assaulting him makes him blink a few times, but he doesn't close his eyes. Instead, his longing gaze greedily feasts upon the sight of the blue expanse before him – endless and unrestrictive, like a lucid dream.
And he knows it's as pointless and futile as all those other times that he's tried. The only thing it will result in is Jarvis' voice once more haughtily repeating that Tony's orders are for the windows and doors to remain shut.
And yet, he can't help himself.
Slowly, he gets up from his hunched position on the floor and shuffles over to the window pane, not coming to a halt until his nose is almost flat against the glass. For what time in a row he doesn't know – he has long ago lost count – his hand mechanically raises itself as if by its own volition, his fingers closing around the metal of the handle. At first, he just lets them rest there, imagining the window sliding open beneath his hand without protest, without Jarvis snapping to attention to inform him of the futility of his efforts.
After a few moments of this, he makes a little upward yank, in a desperate wish that this time, the voice will not be ringing out from its unidentifiable spot in the ceiling, though he knows better, of course.
At first, he wonders if he might be imagining things, if perhaps his confinement has addled his mind to such an extent that he's hallucinating, projecting his burning desire onto relentless reality. Because this time, the voice is silent.
He freezes in confusion, eyes darting upwards as if he can somehow see Jarvis' conspicuous absence manifested up there, but the AI makes no comment as the window slides impossibly open. The draft from the crack is a cool but sweet caress against his hand, and he shivers, though it's neither from cold nor any other form of unpleasantness.
He's about to push the window fully open so that he can feel that divine breeze against his face as well, breathe that invigorating, wonderful air deep into his lungs, but then stops himself as another idea is gaining hold in his mind. It's reckless and ill-considered, of course, and he really shouldn't, but perhaps…
It's far too tempting, and despite knowing better, he can't resist the alluring possibility unfolding before him.
He knows his way around the tower by now, after all his endless prowling, so he doesn't even need to stop to consider which will be the quickest route; he follows it automatically and immediately.
It's only a few flights of stairs to the top of the tower, and he hurries up the steps, half-running in his eager haste. There's a door on the top floor leading out to the roof, he knows. And if it was possible for him to open that window, then maybe, just maybe…
He reaches the top of the stairs in mere moments that feel like half an eternity despite their briefness. The door, for all its modest inconspicuousness, is filling his entire vision, and it is with trembling fingers that he grabs the handle, breath hitching in his throat as they push down…
… and the door slides open without protest.
The sweet rush of air washing over him is almost physical in its intensity. He hesitates, but then his feet finally bring themselves to move across the doorsill. Trembling from unidentifiable feelings, he steps out on the roof, marvelling at the sensation of the wind caressing his skin.
And he can't for the life of him remember when he last felt so alive, as if life itself has finally come seeping back into his flesh and bones, filling him with something sorely missing until now. He doesn't think of Tony, of his status as a slave, of Asgard, of the confining tower, nor of anything else.
He just stands there and breathes.
Tony is humming an off-tune melody that he suspects that nobody but him would ever recognize as Thunderstruck as he watches the screen in front of him, his fingers clacking away at the keyboard.
The de-bug of Jarvis was long overdue, and he has put it off for far too long, overburdened by too many other, more pressing concerns vying for his attention. Most of them related to the god of mischief currently living in his tower, everything topped off with a visit from that other god who also frequents this planet.
But now that things seem to be running as smoothly as they're probably going to get, he has finally managed to summon up the concentration and mental focus necessary to fix this. At least there weren't any major issues this time. A few smaller updates to the programming, but nothing extensive.
He makes a few finishing taps on the keyboard, completing the final update. The de-bugging process is as good as done; all that's left to do now is a quick reboot of Jarvis so that the changes can take effect.
A couple of clicks later, the AI shuts itself down, screen flickering as the data refreshes and reloads into the system. Restlessly, he drums his fingers against the tabletop as he waits; perhaps he's grown too dependant on his almost-sentient computer, because the short period of off-line time before the reboot is finished always makes him feel vaguely uneasy. Not that it's very likely that Hydra will decide to launch a nuclear missile at his tower or something during the few minutes the upstart takes, but still. The soft beep that follows a successful reboot is always comforting nonetheless, dissolving the unpleasant feelings of vulnerability and exposure.
"Welcome back," he says as that familiar beep tells him that Jarvis is once more on-line.
"Thank you, Mr Stark," comes the polite answer, and Tony feels his world return to normal again.
Only to have its pillars shaken as Jarvis a second later speaks again. "I should inform you that Mr Laufeyson has made it out on the roof during my shut-down."
And just why can't anything ever be easy when that infernal god of mischief is involved, he wonders as he rushes to the stairs, not bothering with the elevator.
He stands there unmoving on the spot, enjoying the wind against his skin and the little illicit taste of freedom as he inhales the fresh air. Reality seems like a distant recollection – for him, there's only here and now. And in that here and now, there's only him, the sky, the endless horizon, and the breeze ruffling his hair. The moment is so perfect, and there's really only one thing that could ruin it…
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" comes an angry voice behind him, accompanied by hasty footsteps drawing to a halt a second later.
Tony. His breath hitches in his throat, and his fists and jaws clench tightly as reality comes crashing over him like a bucket of ice water tipped over his head.
Of course, it was too good to last. Still, he hadn't thought that Tony would find out so quickly, had hoped that the moment were to last a little longer than this.
Biting his lip, he slowly turns around to face the man who is standing there with arms crossed and narrowed eyes. That he's not at all happy with his slave's doings is an understatement.
"Get back inside now!" he orders sharply with a toss of his head in the direction of the open door, voice level but something potentially dangerous brewing underneath. And Loki has no desire to challenge that brewing thing and lure it out into the open, so he obeys the command and heads back inside, hoping his little moment outside will have been worth Tony's anger. Reticence and aversion coil inside of him at the thought of once more returning to his confinement, but he's fully aware that he has no choice.
Tony follows and forcefully slams the door behind them, then walking around and coming to a halt before Loki, the air around him seeming to crackle with heat from the burning gaze that he directs at his slave.
"So, I put Jarvis off-line for a measly few minutes, and the first thing you do is to take the opportunity to fling the door open and waltz out." It's a statement rather than a question, accompanied by an accusing finger wielded not far from his face. And even though there's definitely anger in that voice, it seems like it's being overshadowed by… disappointment.
And that prickles him like a sharp needle.
Because he's been a disappointment all his life. For showing little aptitude for battle. For showing all the more for magic. For not being an embodiment of all the martial values so highly treasured and cherished in Asgard. For not being more like Thor.
And even here, he's continues to be a disappointment. He swallows, willing the unpleasant feeling away.
"I thought Jarvis had already made it perfectly clear to you that you're not supposed to open any doors or windows around here, or am I wrong?" Tony continues and then makes a pregnant pause, obviously expecting an answer.
And he has to admit, when put like that, things really don't come out sounding to his favour at all.
"No. Jarvis has informed me of this," he says quietly, knowing there is no point in trying to refute the fact. Tony has programmed Jarvis himself, after all.
"Alright then. You got anything to say in your defence as to why you thought it would be a good idea to piss all over that rule?"
And what is he supposed to reply to that? I wanted – needed – to go outside? To just get out for a little while? That sounds so needy, so pathetic. So weak. He doesn't want to appear weak, so instead he just shakes his head, a clipped 'no' all that comes out of his mouth as he feels himself deflate a little. Of course, he's disobeyed expressed orders, wilfully to boot, and will have to face the consequences, whatever they might be. He winces inwardly, trying to take comfort in the knowledge that at least Tony isn't going to physically hurt him.
Tony regards him for a few moments, as if he's excepting another answer, or for Loki to add something. But as the silence presses on, the man finally gives a slow nod.
"Okay, buddy," he says sternly. "Consider yourself in house arrest in your room for the next week."
Tony sighs as he sinks down into the couch, tension slowly draining out of his body as he forcefully rubs his hands over his face a few times. That god is going to be the end of him. If the alcohol doesn't get to him first, that is.
Just when he thinks that one issue has been resolved and everything is settling down, along comes another thing shattering the status quo. And truth be told, he had been really freaked out by the sight of Loki standing out there in the open. The god who once tried to lay the planet under his rule, who smashed up a substantial part of the city stretching out beneath him, now stood there free and unrestrained, the world suddenly unprotected from whatever ambitions might still be simmering beneath that toned-down exterior.
So what if Loki was supposedly magic-liberated and powerless; it did precious little to dampen his shock at the sight. His brain was half-expecting the god to whip out some of that magic he wasn't supposed to be having, transforming himself into a bird and flying off into the distance before Tony's very eyes, bracelet restrictors notwithstanding. And Tony would be the one responsible for a would-be world conqueror being on the loose, with intentions he could only guess at.
He leans his head against the couch cushion behind him, sighing deeply. Just a few minutes of non-surveillance, and that was all it had taken. Like an opportunity-seeking missile, Loki had honed in on the first chance presenting itself. Just like that, as if he had a special knack, a sixth sense even, for telling when exactly the time was right.
Sure Loki doesn't have his powers anymore, but that didn't stop him from giving Tony a real scarce, to say nothing of that unpleasant déjà vu feeling from that one time the two of them had faced off on the top of his tower, ending with him falling to his almost-death.
And most of all, he still remembers his promise to Thor – to make sure Loki stays safe. What if the god had somehow managed to make his getaway? What would he have told Thor? Uh, yeah, I let surveillance slip there for a little while, sorry about that.
Well, at least Loki is locked away in his room for the time being. Still, Tony needs to make sure there won't be any further incidents of the kind.
And also, get a clear answer out of the god.
Since I'm sort of expecting that Tony might not be all too popular with readers after this chapter, in his defence, he did give Loki a chance to explain himself, and Loki didn't take it simply because of pride. So naturally and unfortunately, Tony would assume the worst…
Please review. :)