Author's note: In answer to "Guest", yes, there is indeed a French translation in the works for this story, and I've given permission for it, so it's all good... ^^
Today's sky is even bluer than yesterday, though it comes with fewer but larger clouds this time. In the distance, five dark specks, birds of some kind, move in perfect synchronism against the vast blueness, free and unfettered.
And he sits here, where he can do nothing but envy those little specks, no matter how small and insignificant they might be, as they take off towards the horizon.
Suddenly, there are the sounds of footsteps incoming, and Loki doesn't need to turn his head to know who they belong to. He does anyway, though, his eyes trailing the man as he comes to a halt somewhere to Loki's left. And he fervently wishes that Tony would go away, as the sight of him merely serves as another reminder of Loki's own undesirable but unchangeable predicament.
"Hey, so what are you doing, Bambi?" Tony asks casually, though it's plain obvious that Loki isn't doing a thing. Undeterred, the man takes a step closer, leaning an arm against the wall as he pretends to curiously inspect the view the window offers, as if it is something novel and exciting he is seeing for the first time.
"Nice view of the city, isn't it?" comes the superfluous comment, and Loki can feel a sting of irritation that he quickly pushes back down. It's one of the last things he would like to hear at this point, being patently unable to go outside, being stuck in here because there's no way Tony would ever take the risk of letting him set as much as a single foot into the city he once tried to conquer. Especially not after his little unauthorized venturing-out-on-the-roof escapade.
"It is," he replies with as little emotion as possible, as if they are merely discussing the weather or a bland painting or something of equally low importance.
"Uh-huh," Tony offers absent-mindedly, seemingly busy gazing at something indiscernible in the distance that requires his full concentration. Then the man draws himself up and lets his gaze drift back to Loki, intently studying his face.
"How would you like the chance to see it from the outside?"
The question is as unexpected as it is perplexing, and he looks at Tony in puzzlement, resolutely trying to quench the desperate, impossible flutter of hope suddenly welling up in his chest. Because surely there is no way that Tony would let him out, not after everything that has transpired. No, it can't be…
As if he can read the bewildered expression on Loki's face, Tony gives a nonchalant shrug. "Thought a change of scenery might do you good. It looks like you could need it," he says as if it's the most natural thing in the world.
Immediately, his danger detection radar goes off, alerting him that something must be off, there is something missing that Tony hasn't told him yet.
"And what is… expected from me in return for this favour?" The guarded question slips out of his mouth despite his knowing that it's not his place to ask any such. But he just has to find the missing piece of the puzzle, because surely it can't be this simple, it's making no sense…
"Just one thing – behave yourself out there. Or you're going to find yourself permanently grounded for the duration." Not waiting for Loki to reply, Tony digs into his pocket and picks out some sort of metal contraption, throwing it over to Loki, who catches it more out of reflex than anything else.
It looks like a bracelet, made out of polished steel, with a clasp at the ends to fasten it. He turns it around in his hand, the smooth metal almost silky against his palm, and then looks up at Tony, eyebrows knitted in confusion.
"Just got finished putting it together," Tony says as he snags the bracelet back from Loki's hand, holding it up against the light as if it is a precious treasure and not a simple band of steel. "This thing has a tracker in it, which will monitor your position and tell me exactly where your Asgardian ass is situated at any given moment."
He flips out yet another device from his pocket, this time one that Loki recognizes as one of those cell phones so ubiquitous among the humans. The man taps at the front with a fingernail. "I merely need to look at this screen to know exactly where you are." He waves a hand at the little chains encircling Loki's wrists. "Works pretty much like the flashy tracking jewellery you're already wearing, only difference being that this one is firmly based on technology instead of fancy magic."
With that, Tony hands him the bracelet back and Loki accepts it into his hands once more, letting his fingers roam over the surface as he studies the thing intently, trying to work out if there is anything more to it than what Tony is letting on. He can sense the magic humming in his chainlets when he makes an effort to, but Tony's contraption feels just as dead and unresponsive as any other piece of un-tampered-with metal would. There shouldn't be any adverse affects on him from putting it on, he surmises.
"I'm not letting you out the house without this, buddy," Tony says, obviously having noticed Loki's apprehensive examination of the bracelet, "so I suggest you just put it on."
Without a word, Loki clasps the bracelet shut around his wrist. The little buckle smartly clicks into place, leaving a smooth band circling his skin, seam invisible. He sure hopes Tony has a way of unclasping this contraption, because the buckle won't budge as he discreetly picks his fingers at it, testing its strength. Having another restraint placed on him like this is reminiscent of the fetters placed on an animal to keep it from running away, but what's another chain when he's already wearing two of them around his wrists?
And he can at least appreciate the fact that it's a bracelet and not a collar.
"You won't get it open," Tony says, interrupting Loki's little reverie. "Takes special tools to do that, and I'm not lending them to you, just so you know."
Realizing that he's still attempting to pry the thing off, Loki abruptly stops what he's doing, folding his hands neatly into his lap, trying to get used to the feeling of the extra weight clamped around his wrist.
Tony makes a beckoning motion at him. "Come on, then, Bambi, let's go." He walks out the room without turning around to see if Loki is coming, and Loki follows suit, heart skipping in his chest and body feeling unusually light, like he's floating.
They ride the elevator down without either of them speaking a word, though any attempts at conversation would have been severely hampered by the heavy music blaring from the speakers.
At the clothes stand at the door, Tony makes a halt, grabbing a black cap from a hanger and then rummages around in the chest of drawers next to it. Having found what he was looking for, he slams the drawer shut with his knee as he stands up with a pair of dark glasses clasped in his grip, unceremoniously shoving the stuff into Loki's hands.
"Put these on," he orders as he grabs similar attire for himself, pushing a pair of tainted glasses up onto the bridge of his nose and dons a cap with letters and numbers than mean nothing to Loki. "Can't have anyone recognizing you out there. Even though I'm sure people were busier staring at your horns than at your face during your last visit, and nobody would expect to see you roaming around New York again after being dragged back to Asgard in chains, I'm not taking any chances." He taps at the glass hiding his eyes from view. "You'll be surprised just how effective these are at repelling attention. Really comes in handy when you're a billionaire superhero wanting to take an incognito stroll around the block."
While he would have preferred not having to look at the world through a barrier of dark glass, now that he is amazingly enough allowed outside, he's not about to look a gift horse in the mouth, so he says nothing, merely puts the shades on. The world takes on a dim hue, but it's not nearly as bad as he had expected.
"Alright, Reindeer Games, final rundown of instructions – you stay close at all times, don't get out of my sight, and don't do anything stupid, lewd or lascivious. Capiche, comprende, verstanden?"
Loki looks at him, eyebrows furrowed.
"Got it?" Tony clarifies.
Loki nods. "I will comply with your restrictions," he says, trying to not sound as ridiculously eager as he's feeling, but well aware he's failing when he hears his own voice.
"Okay, then. You better not make me regret this, or you're going to as well," Tony says no-nonsense-ly before finally opening the door to the glorious world outside, stepping out, Loki at his heels.
And it's like all his senses have suddenly been magically heightened, making him acutely aware of every little thing around him. As if he's been living in a box until now, with muted colours and dulled sounds, only to finally be let out in the real world with its genuine, untainted perceptions.
The gravel crunches softly under his feet and he inhales deeply as a gust of chilled air caresses his face, as wonderful as cold water for a man dying of thirst. The plethora of sounds around him is almost overwhelming – screeching traffic, bustling people, a barking dog – but an oh-so welcome change from the pressing silence that has constituted most of his stay in the dungeons as well as Tony's tower.
It's amazing how vitalizing merely being out in the open again can be, unrestrained by walls pressing in on him. Like he's actually living instead of merely existing. Even though his momentary freedom is only an illusion, it's as good as he's going to get, and he will take what he is offered.
There's a strange, unidentified feeling stirring in him as he follows Tony down the street, taking in, breathing in, his surroundings. But he's not sure he can quite identify it, so he ignores it for now.
The park is modest by Asgardian standards, of course, but it is of no matter. It's beautiful and soothing all the same. Back home, he would often seek solace and privacy out in nature, where he could practice his magic undisturbed, away from the usual disapproving, critical stares. Though things are of course still a far cry from what they used to be like, his mood is far better than it has ever been since the unfortunate day he got so soundly pummelled into the ground by that green beast and all that transpired afterwards.
The only thing marring the moment is the never-ending talking of the man strolling next to him, chattering away as if his life depended upon the absence of silence. But it is of little importance, as long as he can enjoy these precious moments free from his usual confinement, Tony can talk as much as he wants to, as far as he's concerned.
The words barely register anyway, as his mind is occupied elsewhere. On the sky, the wind, the trees, the ground beneath his feet. All things he had once taken for granted, never realizing just how much he would end up treasuring them. The odd feeling from before is still oscillating somewhere deep inside him, and he isn't quite sure what to make of it. It's not something he immediately recognizes nor can relate to.
Tony is undeterred by the silence meeting his long monologues, though. He keeps on talking, about his projects and boring board meetings, about girls he's dated and the food you can apparently buy in a place called "Buns and Burgers". He talks about attending a concert with something going by the name of "Whitesnake" and the time he encountered a couple doing dirty deeds just in that spot over there to his left. Loki doesn't think he has ever met someone who loves the sound of his own voice as much as Tony. Even Thor is more modest in that regard and at least occasionally knows how and when to keep quiet.
It isn't until the sun is starting to set, painting the horizon with a dashing display of red and orange and pink, that Tony says it is time for them to head back home.
And it isn't until then that Loki realizes what that odd feeling is that's been stirring inside of him during the entire walk. But maybe it's not so strange it took so long for him to recognize it, because he hasn't felt real gratitude for anything in a very long time.
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