Author's note: Since some reviewers asked me about it, I realized I left out a very important piece of information in the previous chapter. So, for those of you who are still wondering, Loki's hair is now the same length it was in the Avengers movie. ;)
As has been the procedure lately, he takes his meal sitting in his bed, carefully eating the food on the tray nestled into his lap so that he doesn't spill on the sheets. Tony mentioned the name of the dish, but he's forgotten it already. It was a new and unknown word to him, and not something that has any equivalent in Asgard.
It doesn't taste unpleasant, though. A lot of the food here came off as strange to him at first, but it would seem that his palate has gotten used to the unusual flavours and the seemingly illogical combinations of various ingredients by now.
However, he still hasn't gotten used to the fact that Tony comes in here every time to serve him his food. Masters don't wait on their slaves, or at least they never would in Asgard. They'd send another slave or servant to handle such tasks, assuming that a sick or injured slave, lying useless in bed, would get very much to eat in the first place. Obviously, there is no one else living in Tony's household, but he still has his robots that could easily have taken care of that.
"Any good?" the man sitting to his right suddenly interrupts his thoughts, and Loki nods.
"It tastes nice," he says. "It's not similar to anything in Asgard, but it reminds me a little of the food in Jotunheim."
"You've visited Jotunheim?" Tony asks, giving him a questioning look. "Okay, so I know you were born there and all, but I thought your two realms weren't on speaking terms with each other, if what you told me the other day was anything to go by."
"Well, relations between Asgard and Jotunheim have waxed and waned over the centuries," he says with a shrug. "Most of our common history has been filled with deep animosity and hate, sometimes escalating into war, but there have been shorter periods of somewhat less strained relations. During those times, I wouldn't say it was possible for just anyone from one realm to freely visit the other, but, well, I had my magic, so I could venture into Jotunheim without too much to fear. Being a prince of Asgard, they wouldn't dare to harm me and cause a diplomatic catastrophe that would threaten the fragile peace."
He halts the flow of words, debating with himself whether he should continue or not. Tony looks at him with all the interest that could be expected from someone with an inquisitive mind getting told about a realm he's never visited and barely even heard of before, so that should be a cue for him to go on. But on the other hand, he doesn't feel particularly comfortable with the subject, preferring to leave it be.
Before he can make a decision, however, Tony fires off another question.
"But you still dared to eat their food? I mean, someone with a real grudge towards Asgard could have tried to poison you in secret or something?"
"They wouldn't poison us," he says simply. "After all, we were… invited."
"We?" Tony asks.
Loki sighs. Yeah, that old story from centuries ago.
"Yes," he admits. "Me and Thor and a convoy from Asgard. It wasn't originally…planned, though."
"Oh?" An eyebrow shoots upward. "Do tell."
"It's a long story," he says, hoping that will be enough to dissuade Tony. He doesn't feel like digging those memories up again. However, Tony reacts by leaning back in his chair, not looking daunted in the least by this prospect.
"Well, I'm not going anywhere." He gives Loki a pointed glance where he's half-sitting, half-lying in bed. "And I don't think you are either, for the time being."
Loki studies the wall ahead of him before answering. "I… fell in with some frost giants on my first visit there, led by a man named Trym. I was a lot younger and more reckless back then, and to top it off I had been drinking far too much mead, so I made a thoughtless bet I shouldn't have made." He winces at the recollection, but Tony's expectant look makes it obvious he wants to hear the rest.
"Trym had a dagger that was actually a magical artefact, imbued with very powerful and ancient magic. When he noticed my interest, he suggested a game of dice. If I won, I'd get the dagger, and if I lost, Trym would get Freyja's hand in marriage," he says, fiddling a little with the cover, the edge of it reaching up to his waist. "Freyja is a high-born Aesir lady, related to the royal family by blood," he adds as he sees Tony's questioning expression.
"Of course, I wasn't actually authorized to promise something like that, but… alcohol makes you say some stupid things, I guess."
Tony snorts. "Yeah, tell me about it. So what happened? You won the game of dice, right?"
The admission is pretty embarrassing. "Actually, I didn't. I think the dice were enchanted somehow, but I couldn't prove it." Probably if he hadn't been more sober, he would have managed, but he leaves that part out. "However, I hoped Trym wouldn't collect on a promise made in drunkenness, but he showed up in Asgard mere days later, demanding his due in front of the entire Royal Court, saying they were obliged to honour a promise made by a prince of Asgard. And if they refused, he'd bring his forces down on Asgard to claim what was his."
"Of course, Freyja was furious and absolutely refused to concede to Trym's demands." He makes a pause, remembering how the goddess' ear-splitting angry shrieks had echoed through the Royal Halls. "And Trym, on his hand, threatened with war and the whole court was in an uproar, Freyja's family calling for my blood unless I found a way to resolve the situation. But in the end, I did come up with a suggestion that was accepted after a lot of grumbling and deliberations.
"And that was?"
"I suggested a stealth attack, since Trym was a powerful foe and had a considerable army under his command, while our own available forces were not very strong at the time." Too busy fighting elsewhere. "The plan was to sneak Thor into Trym's halls armed with Mjölnir – its formidable powers would be enough to slay both Trym and his men when they least expected it."
"And how did you pull that off? I suppose you couldn't just waltz in there and hope that no one would notice?" Tony says, leaning forwards in his chair. "Thor does seem like the kind of guy that's not easy to just sneak in. Doesn't fit in a suitcase and kind of stands out in a crowd. He'd be pretty hard to miss."
Loki cocks his head. "I suggested we dress him up as Freyja and send him over to Trym's halls for the proposed marriage, and I'd follow as his bridesmaid. My idea was accepted, and in the end the plan worked as intended."
Tony stares at him, incredulity etched into his face. "So you mean that big bad manly Thor was forced to dress in drag?"
He's not familiar with the word 'drag', but he gets the gist of it nonetheless. "Well, as expected, Thor vehemently refused at first, but it was useless in the end. He had no choice but to go along with it."
The look of disbelief on Tony's face is slowly morphing into one of amusement, until a huge grin is plastered over the man's features. However, Loki has to admit that he never found the incident amusing at all; quite the opposite – it had been a very serious situation. People had been furious at him; even those who weren't on all that friendly terms with Freyja and her family had turned against him in anger.
Even the otherwise so peaceful and gentle Baldur had personally threatened to rip his entrails out – which figured, of course, as the fop had always harboured an ill hidden infatuation with the goddess. His doings had caused an outrage among the Aesir, and it hadn't been humorous in the slightest. Only his wits and his quick thinking had saved the day and his own skin.
Of course, Freyja hadn't spoken to him for decades after the incident, and Thor not for days, which in his case probably meant that he was even angrier than Freyja. No, it hadn't been amusing at all, and he'd never imagined it could be viewed as such, not until seeing Tony's reaction.
"Okay, I admit I've never seen any of your fair Aesir maidens, but I find it very doubtful that anyone of them looks even remotely like Thor," Tony snorts. "Seriously, how could anyone buy into that?"
Loki shrugs. "We put a veil over his face."
At that, Tony collapses into a heap of roaring laughter, a hand slapping against his thigh, almost falling off his chair in mirth. And even though Loki still fails to find the incident funny – it's far too intimately entwined with words like disgrace and failure and disappointment – Tony's laughter is still contagious.
There is suddenly a bubble of laughter welling up inside of him as well, demanding to be let out, and soon he finds himself laughing too. It might not be as boisterous as Tony's, but it's laughter nonetheless, and he makes no attempt to stop it as it washes over him.
The contractions of his still sore ribcage send a spasm of pain through him, but he ignores it, because he can't remember the last time he has laughed like this. A real laughter that wasn't painted with mockery or bitterness or self-depreciation.
Neither can he remember the last time someone made him laugh like this. But the feeling is pleasant, almost intoxicating, and he realizes that he never knew until now how much he's missed it, or how much he actually enjoys it.
Or, for that matter, how much he enjoys Tony's laughter.
The mental image of the Thunderer himself, the epitome of masculinity, dressed in drag is just too freaking hilarious. He hasn't laughed this much in quite some time, he surmises, as he wipes his eyes, rubbing away the moisture gathering in them with the sleeve of his shirt.
And the realization makes him wonder, with a startle, when the last time was that Loki laughed like this?
Or laughed at all since coming to his tower. The thought makes a little sting of something prickle inside of him and takes the edge of his amusement off.
He watches the god out of the corner of his eye, the joyful smile that has spread over his features turning his face from handsome to irresistible. Is this truly the first time that Loki has laughed at all since his coming here? The thought has never crossed his mind before, though he realizes it's probably the saddening truth.
And in that moment, he promises himself that even though it might be the first time since Loki's arrival in Tony's tower, it's not going to be the last.
He enjoys a laughing Loki far too much for that.
Please review. :)
This chapter came about due to a comment from myriddin who suggested the idea that Loki and Tony should have a good laugh together. And yes, they should indeed. :D
Anyway, I'm sure all those of you who know your Norse mythology 101 recognize the part with Thor going to Jotunheim dressed up as Freyja. I just decided to change what preceded it to fit the story better. After all, myths are never one-hundred percent truth anyway, or they wouldn't be considered myths in the first place... ;)