Author's note: Well, looks like their stay in Asgard hasn't been all that great so far… let's see if things will go better for them in this chapter or not!
He is relived when Thor finally returns, and for more reasons than one. Tony's little fan club reluctantly but seamlessly slips away to resume their duties as to not be seen slacking off now that their prince is back. Loki only spares his brother a quick glance and then looks away, mouth drawn into a thin line.
After one look at Loki, Tony decides not to mention the Arnulf incident, much as he's tempted to. The god has been humiliated enough as it already is without having his brother find out about it as well; at least Tony can offer him that small dignity. If Loki wants Thor to know, he will tell him; it's not up to Tony to make that decision for him. But at least now the Royal Prince is back, so any similar incidents brewing can quickly be averted with some princely authority to back it all up.
"Nature's calling, big fellow," Tony says as the blond god comes striding over. "Care to show me to the men's room or the nearest ditch or whatever it is you guys use here?" Not the most charming way to greet someone, perhaps, but Thor hasn't been away for that many hours.
"Of course," Thor nods. "The nearest facilities are just down one of the corridors, but I should have shown you the way to them before I took my leave. My apologies for this omission."
Tony stands up and then turns to Loki who is busy looking into an entirely different direction than him and Thor. "Maybe it's best if you came along as well," he says. "Not sure it's a good idea to leave you alone here with this crowd."
Loki gives him a brief look, but then shakes his head. "I will be fine. I'd rather just wait for you here," he says, then looks away again.
Tony is not entirely sure as to the wisdom of that, so he glances at Thor for guidance, but the blond god merely shrugs. "You are an honoured guest here, Man of Iron. No one will dare to harm Loki while he is here in my chambers, provided that he behaves as expected."
A part of Tony wants to protest, but his bladder is not really amenable to long discussions in its current state, so he relents, since both Loki and Thor seem fine with it.
Though, his bladder is not the main reason, because right now, the last thing he wants is to order Loki to do something that goes against the god's own expressed wishes, to actually make use of the rights afforded to him as a master. Yes, he could order Loki to obey and go with them, acting just like any Asgardian master, but having received a first-hand demonstration of how slaves are treated here, it suddenly feels more important to him than ever before not to buy into any of that crap and to grant Loki at least that small amount of freedom. It's not up to him to make decisions for Loki that the god is fully capable of making himself.
And besides, it will just be a few minutes anyway.
"Alright, lead the way, then, big guy," he says with a nod to Thor.
After having taken care of business and the two of them are making their way back a couple of minutes later, Tony reflects that he is probably the only living human who can lay claim to having taken a piss together with a god. And to be honest, he doesn't compare all that unfavourably, taking Thor's divine status into account.
As they are only a few steps from the doorway leading back to the common room, the noise of a sudden commotion reaches them, followed by the unmistakable sound of flesh hitting flesh.
Uh-oh.
Tony doesn't doubt for even a second that whatever is going on in there, Loki is somehow involved. And why was he stupid enough to leave the god alone, even if it was just for a few quick minutes? He should have known better than that.
Rushing in, Thor on his heels, he is greeted with the, perhaps not entirely unexpected, sight of Loki sprawling on the ground and clutching his cheek, and it doesn't take a genius to figure out that there is a bruise forming beneath that hand.
And towering above the god stands the hulking form of Fjalar, his viciously imposing appearance somewhat diminished by the fact that he is currently in the state of being as dripping wet as a soaked puppy.
Tony bites his lower lip, trying to push down the panic welling up inside of him; he can unfortunately puzzle together what just transpired here before anyone speaks even a word of clarification.
Of course, Fjalar is quick to inform him anyway, as he whirls around to face Tony, his expression a contorted mask of offended outrage that anyone has dared to cause offence to His Magnificent Arrogant Conceitedness. He points an accusing, gloved finger at Tony, as if all this is somehow his fault.
"Your slave threw beer in my face, Man of Iron," Fjalar seethes through clenched teeth, slowly and pointedly enunciating the words as were they indignities in themselves, the outstretched finger trembling with anger and indignation.
"Yeah, and I'm sure you didn't do anything at all to provoke him, right?" Tony shoots back, before almost tripping over from being shoved to the side as Thor pushes past him.
"Please, Fjalar, still your rage. I'm sure we can settle this somehow," the god booms, sounding as regal as ever. Fjalar, however, looks unimpressed, and instead turns his attention back to Tony as if Thor isn't important.
The man draws himself up, crossing his arms in a show of authority. "True, I did speak my peace to this slave, but slaves should be able to suffer a few harsh words in silence. But instead, this wretched creature responded by throwing beer at me, and I demand that you, as his master, have him punished for assaulting a free man."
More like assaulting a full-of-himself arrogant jerk, but Tony isn't going to argue that particular point right now.
"Alright, alright." Tony holds his hands up in a placating gesture, making a momentous effort to be as affable as he can, though he'd rather just clock Fjalar in the face for being a major dick. But he controls himself; no use making this spiral out of control anymore than it already has and jeopardize Loki's position any further. "I'll have him sent to bed without supper, okay?"
Fjalar's eyes narrow to furious slits. "Do not make light out of this, mortal," he hisses, and Tony is glad he isn't standing closer to the fuming Aesir or he would have been nearly as wet as Fjalar from being sprayed with spittle. "Your slave has committed a serious crime and should be punished accordingly!"
And Tony gets that sinking feeling again, like he's taking a morning stroll across a field of quicksand. Being stripped down from 'Man of Iron' to 'mortal' doesn't exactly signify an improvement of the situation; this guy must be pretty damned well pissed if he thinks nothing of addressing Thor's 'honoured guest' in such a condescending way.
Before Tony has the chance to offer a retort, however, Fjalar resolutely reaches down to unhitch the whip hanging at his belt, and, having crossed the distance between them with two decisive steps, shoves the ugly thing into Tony's hands.
And the sinking feeling in Tony's stomach turns into a free fall. This can't be happening…
Fjalar calmly takes a few steps back, seemingly more composed as he regards Tony with hard, unforgiving eyes. "As I said, he assaulted a free man. This is the only appropriate punishment for such a grievous wrong-doing." He gestures towards the coiling leather in Tony's hands, a disgustingly expectant look on his face.
Really, what sick fuck walks around carrying a whip at his belt anyway?
"And it looks like you assaulted him in turn, so I'd say that evens things out," Tony says through clenched teeth as he nods at Loki, who is still sprawled on the floor, and the angry red bruise now visible on his cheek as the hand covering it has been removed.
"Are you refusing to carry out your responsibilities as his master?" Fjalar asks, indignation making his skin colour turn from an ugly sallow to a flaming red.
"Sorry, buddy," he says, trying to sound flippant, though not really succeeding, "but I'm not really into the whole SM thing. Sure I've experimented a bit, but-"
Fjalar ignores his comment, voice hard and dangerous as sharpened steel. "Fifty lashes. Or I will take this matter to court."
No fucking way. Tony glances to his side, hoping to rally some support. Okay, Thunder Boy, where are you? Some of that brotherly concern would really be appreciated right now.
As if on cue, Thor speaks up yet again, but his voice is less booming this time and more pleading as he tries to reason with Fjalar. "I understand your grievances, and I profusely apologize that you should have to suffer such indignities under my roof, but surely there must be some other way to recompense for this slight?"
"No," comes the decisive reply, almost before Thor's last words have left his lips. "Like I said, I will have the punishment carried out as specified, or I will take this to court."
"Please, Fjalar, let amends be made some other way," Thor tries again, pain evident on his face. "I can offer you-"
"I have spoken my peace, Thor. This matter is of no concern of yours; this is solely for me and Man of Iron to settle between us. And if you should try to interfere again, I will demand an additional ten lashes as recompense," Fjalar interrupts him. "And now, it is up to Man of Iron which way he prefers to do this, if we settle this here or in court," he continues haughtily, as if either way is just fine with him.
And then there is silence. Fjalar waits, and Thor looks devastated. Loki's face is hidden in shadows and whatever emotions are playing themselves out there are concealed from view. Tony hesitantly lets his gaze wander between the three of them, not sure what has just transpired.
So he looks to Thor, who's fallen uncharacteristically silent. "Okay, I think now would be the time to invoke your princely authority, Point Break," he prods, not seriously believing that Thor is going to stand for this shit.
As Thor turns back to Tony, his face is drawn and haggard, hue several shades paler. If he'd clenched his jaws any tighter, he'd be in need of a really good dentist.
"You will have to go ahead and carry out the demanded punishment."
Say what?
"Uh, Thor, think you could repeat that, because I'm sure you didn't actually mean that I should re-enact the Passion of the Christ on your brother here?"
Thor looks like he's debating whether to throw a huge crying fit or pulverize something with his bare hands, but in the end, he settles for neither. "Fjalar is right," he says quietly, averting his gaze from Tony. "If a slave assaults a free man, that man has the right to demand punishment. If the master should not agree to it, the victim is entitled to seek restitution in court, where an appropriate punishment will be decided. It will then not be carried out by the master but instead by someone appointed by the court." Thor's trembling hand clenches into a fist, and he looks at Tony with an almost pleading look in his face. "Loki would no doubt be sentenced to a whipping for this and he can't take that kind of punishment in his mortal body from someone with the strength of an Aesir. If he should have any chance of making it through, it has to be you carrying it out, Man of Iron."
"He's your brother," Tony snaps, suddenly overcome by disgust and revulsion for how things are done here. "And you, good sir, are a prince. How about you lay down some of that royal authority and tell Ivan Vanko here just where he can shove that fucking whip of his?"
"My hands are tied," Thor replies, sounding more weary and worn than Tony has ever heard him before. "Not even a prince stands above the decisions of the court. Such are the rules of Asgard."
And with that, it is as if the whole matter is settled; no one utters another word. Fjalar looks eager and expectant, Thor like he's going to be sick but holds it in nevertheless. And Loki…
For a brief moment, Tony's eyes meet with the god's, and the mixture of emotions he sees there hits him like a fist in the stomach, a gut-churning blend of resignation, dread, despair, and a million other things he doesn't even want to think about.
Then the god averts his gaze, and Tony can see a hand trembling, ever so slightly.
And he just can't believe this is happening. Not even on the first day when Loki came to his tower would he have even dreamt of doing anything like this, as much as the god had incensed him back then. And now, with all the water and whatnot that has passed under the bridge since, it's even more unimaginable.
He can't do this, he just fucking can't…
But he doesn't have a choice, does he?
Oh noes!
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