Author's note: Kudos to Potkanka for inspiring this chapter. ^^

Just like when Thor was here to visit last time, Tony decides to go for home-delivery pizza –greasy, fattening, unhealthy slices of cheese, salami, cheese, meatballs, and cheese.

Perfect.

Of course, just like last time, neither of his guests apparently has much of an appetite, judging by the way they're fiddling around with the food on their plates. Well, at least Thor is making a valiant effort to be courteous and eat his fill, even if he's far from his usual gluttonous self, but Loki is barely touching his pizza, managing to look sombre and annoyed at the same time.

While Thor might have been in a bright and sunny mood when he came here, it's obvious that Loki's sullenness is starting to take its toll on him too, contagious like a bout of fleas. He wonders if Thor expected his little brother to be as beaming and cheerful as him upon hearing the news from Asgard, because in that case he's been in for some serious disappointment.

Tony's not sure what he expected Loki's reaction to be – when it all comes down to it, it's not a decision either way, and could end up swinging into any direction. Still, it's better than a straight-out no, with no chance of any pardons or paroles whatsoever on the horizon. And if Odin has warmed up to the idea of hearing Tony's opinions on the matter, well, that should count on the positive side, shouldn't it?

Unless he's been invited merely for the entertainment value – look at the Midgardian monkey with his hilariously deluded ideas of how punishment should work, now let's all point and laugh from our seats of godly High-and-Mightiness. Or, alternatively, brought to the Royal Court of Asgard just to be set straight and told in no uncertain terms that Loki's sentence has been carved in stone and don't you puny mortals dare to presume to interfere or think you know better than us.

Then again, it seems a bit overkill to bring him all the way to Asgard just to tell him that, so maybe Odin is willing to give them something, to budge a little bit, even if it's only an inch or two in their favour.

On the other hand, he doesn't feel comforted by how it took so many weeks for Odin to reach his decision. Was it really such a difficult choice to make, letting someone come over to Asgard and speak in Loki's favour? It's not as if the guy is obliged to indulge Tony in anything he says, so if merely the audience in itself brought about all this hesitance, he has to admit that it doesn't really bode well for the final outcome.

No doubt, the very same things are going through Loki's head, the way he's holed up into himself, seemingly lost in his own mulling thoughts. Suddenly, it must all seem so real, as opposed to the more distant possibility it had been during Thor's absence. And now, the equally real possibility that Odin will let his sentence stand, and Loki will remain a slave for the rest of his long life, has also edged closer.

He tries to take some comfort in the fact that Thor had seemed considerably more positive and hopeful, but given that Tony has never met Odin, he can't really judge which of the two outlooks has the most basis in reality.

He takes another big bite out of his greasy pizza slice, tearing a big chunk of crust off, and then chews loudly. The conversation around the table is going haltingly and Loki has barely spoken a full sentence since they sat down. Thor was initially performing better, but once Tony had brought up the incident with the Einherjers in the subway, Thor's face had transformed into that patented sad and wet puppy look of his and he had not seemed very conducive to further conversation.

They eat in silence for a while, then Loki picks up his empty glass of water and walks up to the sink to fill it up. Despite all the months of living in Tony's tower, he's never gotten to like anything carbonated, instead preferring plain tap water with his meals. Thor gives his brother a brief glance, and suddenly Tony is reminded of the awkward breakfast they had shared during the Thunderer's last visit and his surprise at seeing that Loki wasn't being ordered to serve them, that he'd been allowed to sit at the table and have breakfast, that he had even gotten the same food to eat as the rest of them.

Tony finds himself distinctly grateful that Thor hasn't shown any obvious such reactions this time, though he still hopes that Thor isn't interpreting the water as Loki not being allowed the fine Midgardian draught known as Coke that he and Thor are currently enjoying. A part of him is itching to make a comment on that, to explain to Thor that Loki has chosen the water himself and is free to have the brown fizzy stuff if he wants to, but he just doesn't feel up to dragging any of that crap up right now.

It's just a drink anyway.

The splash of water from the sink is almost ear-deafening in the near-silence around the kitchen table, somehow bringing even more attention to the lacklustre social interaction. A few moments later the tap is turned off and silence would have reigned once more if it hadn't been for Loki's voice breaking it.

"Tony?" he says evenly, turning his head to look at him over his shoulder. "It seems that the drain to the sink is clogged."

Wonderful.

"Alright, I'll have someone over to fix it." he says, shrugging. "Jarvis, call a plumber and have him come here tomorrow. After our departure to LaLa-Land."

"Very well, sir," comes the AI's voice, obliging as ever.

After that little exchange, Tony is about to resign himself to another silence when his gaze drifts over to Thor and halts right there.

The god's mouth is hanging half-open in what could best be described as shocked surprise and disbelief as his eyes keep darting back and forth between Loki and Tony. For a while, Tony isn't sure just what on Earth the problem is this time, but then, realization dawns.

Of course. That has to be it. Loki just called him Tony, and surely that is one of the things that a slave in Asgard would never do in a million years – calling his master by his name. And right now, Thor is probably struggling to decide whether he should be more stunned that Loki would presume to do such a thing in the first place or that Tony apparently couldn't care less.

And damn, he doesn't feel up to dealing with any of this now, but he can't just let this shit slide either. So he turns to the Thunderer, giving him his most sunny, unperturbed smile.

"Yeah, I know your people are having some difficulties getting that part into your heads, but contrary to popular Asgardian opinion, my name is 'Tony' and not 'Man of Iron'." A short pause. "Nor is it anything else."

He puts deliberate stress on the last two words, not wanting to take the word master into his mouth; it's just to fucking ugly and foul-tasting. Thor is no doubt getting the point anyway, judging by the incredulous stare. But at least he keeps quiet and merely gives a brief nod, and for that, Tony is grateful. He doesn't want to discuss any of that right now, especially not within earshot of Loki, so instead he returns to his food, and Thor follows his example.

Loki, however, does not. Instead, he merely sits there alternating between staring out the window and down on his plate, empty except for the left-over crumbs from the grand total of one pizza slices that he has consumed.

Sighing inwardly, Tony reaches out for the nearest box of pizza, still half-full, and nudges it into Loki's direction. "Come on, Loki, have another slice, will you. You have barely eaten anything," he urges the reticent god.

Loki turns his faraway stare over to him and shakes his head. "I'm not hungry," he says and then scoots his chair back, standing up. "Excuse me."

And with that, he turns and walks out the door, leaving Tony and Thor and the pizza boxes to their own devices.

Tony sighs, out loud this time, rubbing a hand over his face. Okay, so Loki most definitely is not in a good mood. A part of him wants to stay here and indulge in whatever tiny comfort the pizza can offer him while trying to ignore all this shit, but another, more insistent part wants to hurry after Loki and make sure he's doing alright, and that's the part that wins out.

"Okay, big guy, just finish your pizza and I'll be back in a minute," he says as he gets up from his chair, about to head for the door to follow Loki, but a strong hand around his arm stops him short. He turns around to face Thor, who is looking at him with a crease between his eyebrows the depth of Grand Canyon.

"Please, Man of Iron, forgive my brother for his disrespectful behaviour," the god says and damn if it isn't the closest to pleading as Tony has ever heard from him. "He means no ill, I am sure, he is merely… distressed."

And the vice-like fingers circling his arm fucking hurt, making him grimace as he tries to pull himself loose. Thor, quickly realizing what he's doing, lets his hand fall to his side, the Grand Canyon frown deepening into the Marianas Trench.

One look at that concerned puppy face is enough to tell Tony exactly what it is that Thor is worried about – that Tony's about to go off and have Loki punished for his un-slave-like behaviour that would of course have been unacceptable back where Thor comes from. And that just makes him want to scream at the skies in frustration – obviously Loki isn't the only one with a ridiculously flat learning curve in these matters.

"For fuck's sake, Thor," he shoots back, annoyed and suddenly mentally queasy. "I'm just going to talk to him, alright?"

Not bothering to wait for an answer, he stomps off, leaving Thor and the pizza boxes to their own devices.

He's standing in front of the window in the living room, looking outside, a strange mixture of feelings swirling inside of him. Thor is back, they're all going to Asgard, and there might be a tiny chance of his sentence being changed. Up until now, it had all felt so impossible, so far away, since he'd been preoccupied trying to deal with the here and now. Like a distant dream that would never come true anyway.

But now, he's about to have his future unveiled and find out whether the faint little hope flittering inside of him will ever amount to anything, or just be squashed into nothing as he's irrevocably doomed to having to spend the rest of his life as a slave.

Of course, his current circumstances hardly leave him room to complain, given the situation, but he's not entertaining any delusions that his future masters will turn out to be nearly as kind as Tony. There are so many disturbing thoughts that come with that, and in the end it had simply become too much, so he had gotten up from the table and left, desperately needing a few moments alone.

There are suddenly footfalls closing in behind him, too soft to belong to Thor.

Tony.

With that, he's suddenly hit by the realization of what he did mere moments ago – refusing Tony's insistence of another slice of pizza, instead standing up and leaving the room.

A slave directly disobeying his master – and, to make matters even worse – making him loose face by doing so right in front of a guest. Any slave on Asgard could have expected a world of pain and hurt after a stunt like that. And yet, the thought didn't even enter his mind as he refused the pizza and walked out. Not even now, as his head is clearer and Tony is standing right there behind him as a reminder, does he feel any trepidation about possible consequences to follow for his unseemly behaviour. Which should be strange, and yet it's not.

"Everything alright there?" Tony says.

"Yes," he replies, "it's fine." But even he can hear how his strained voice is belying his words.

Then Tony's hand is suddenly, unexpectedly on his shoulder, gently touching. And it's just like those times before – when he broke down crying in the workshop, and when he was terrified that Tony would hand him over to Barton after he had spilled those little balls of clay all over the living room floor – the hand is there on his shoulder, its presence soothing and comforting.

"Well, I'm sure your daddy will reconsider, or he wouldn't have bothered with all this hullabaloo in the first place, right?" Tony offers.

"Perhaps," he says, not sure how much truth there will be to Tony's words, but they are oddly comforting nevertheless. As is the hand making a reassuring little squeeze, sending off a strange tingle of something along his spine.

And he finds himself wanting to lean into that touch, to let those arms wrap around him to offer more comfort still, and perhaps even-

"Brother, are you alright?" comes a booming, yet hesitant voice, interrupting his trail of thoughts, and the moment is gone.

"I'm fine," he says curtly, crossing his arms, turning away from the man standing in the doorway. "Just leave me be, Thor."

He doesn't feel in the mood for talking to Thor right now. His mind is too occupied with the fact that he's going to Asgard and all that that heralds.

But at least, Tony will be going with him.

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