Author's note: In response to Guest reviewer – well, I hate to be the one to inform you of this, but in Real Life, authors don't always write their stories the way you or your like 8 rage-quitting friends from tumblr would like them to, so you might as well get used to it. And no amount of anonymous whining is going to change a thing about how this story is written. If you want rushed sex, go elsewhere, because this isn't the place for it. Also, next time you feel like offering any complaints, I suggest you do so from a registered account instead of hiding behind anonymity.

On another note, just to point out something since a lot of reviewers remarked on it – no, Loki won't be needing Frey's medallion since Njord's powers are far too weak to work on the immortal races like frost giants, even if they've been made "semi-mortal". ;)

"Man of Iron?" Tony hears a semi-familiar voice behind him as he's making his way towards the exit, relived to leave the throne room behind.

He stops and turns, finding himself face to face with Frey, the man having detached himself from his peers who are still sitting on their chairs at the other end of the room, conversing with each other in muffled voices.

"I take it the amulet worked like it was supposed to?" Frey says with a little toss of his head meant to sweep some long locks of disruptive blond hair out of his face.

Right. There was that little thing too; he'd almost forgotten about it in all the excitement, but it's still resting against his chest, its touch every bit as chilly as before.

"Uh, yeah – it did," he says, reaching up to dig around at his neck for the leather string. Having made sure that he's hidden from view by a large pillar, in case the others in the room should look their way, he pulls the necklace over his head and hands it over to Frey. He can't help but feel a bit sheepish as he does so. "Though, I have to admit that at first I kinda thought that-"

"That it was the amulet trying to take control of you?" the god interrupts as he flashes a smile of perfect white. "Ah, I should have warned you about that. Magic such as this takes a moment to respond; the effects are not instantaneous." He takes the medallion from Tony's grip and nonchalantly tosses it up and down a couple of times. "And besides, I suppose the amulet is getting old and the magic is kind of fading, but not so much that it won't easily outmatch my father's lacklustre powers," he grins.

"Well, thanks a lot," Tony says. "I really appreciate it. I don't really want to think about how all this would have gone otherwise." No, he really doesn't.

Frey shrugs. "Like I said, Loki saved my life once, I'm merely repaying that debt. No thanks are necessary. " He sticks the medallion into his pocket and then gives Tony another dazzling show of teeth. "Well, then. I wish you a safe return back to Midgard, Man of Iron, and enjoy the rest of your stay here in the meantime."

And with that, Frey walks off with a confident swag, whistling softly to himself, leaving Tony with a million questions burning on his tongue.

So how did I do? What did everyone think? What did you think? How big are the chances of Loki's sentence being changed?

But he knows that he will have no choice but to wait for those answers.

Sitting around waiting has never been Tony's forte. His fingers are idly fiddling and tapping, dearly missing the little Rubik's cube he always kept around for times like this. In his mind, he pictures Fjalar's grubby hands twisting the thing back and forth in endless frustration and wonders whether the guy will ever manage to solve the puzzle. Probably when pigs fly.

For what time in a row he doesn't know, his thoughts wander back to what transpired in the throne room. He really has no idea of judging how well any of that went or how much that actually got through. But he's said what he came here to say, and without resorting to any blatant insults or disrespectful comments, so there's not really much else he could have done.

He's still hardly any wiser than when he came here regarding what the outlooks for Loki getting some lenience are. But at least Odin didn't flat out refuse his appeal, and Tony is sure that the god cares little about diplomacy when it comes to a mere mortal – had he decided then and there to turn Tony's request down, he would have said so without pretending they would first discuss things among themselves.

At least, that's what he hopes.

Again, he casts a glance at the pair of massive oaken doors at the other side of the corridor. Loki is behind them, talking to Odin and his Council about who knows what. A part of him would have liked to stay, another is glad he wasn't allowed to.

Right now, he's alone waiting. Thor had been pacing the corridor nervously at first, which he had most likely been doing while Tony was in there too, but had eventually concluded that he needed a minute to get some fresh air. And to be honest, Tony thinks Thor looked like he could seriously use it, given the unhealthy greyish pallor on his face, so very uncharacteristic of the thunder god.

He shifts, restlessly. None of the chairs he's sat on in Asgard have been very comfortable, and this one is no exception. Aesir asses must be made out of a lot sterner stuff than those of mere mortals. He finds himself sorely missing his soft and comfy couch back home. And seriously, he can't wait to sit down on it again, not least because it means he will be back home again.

Before he can reminisce any further on the joys of his living room furniture, the oaken doors creak open with a harsh, ear-splitting sound from protesting hinges that clearly haven't been oiled in centuries. And a moment later, the familiar figure that is the god of mischief steps out.

Without speaking a word, Loki makes his way over to where Tony is lounging and sits down on the chair next to his, leaning his head against the top of the backrest as he expels a soft sigh, staring out into open space like Tony isn't even there. For a long time, he doesn't say anything at all, like his conscious self has wandered off and gotten lost somewhere in the deep dark woods of his own thoughts.

Tony observes him for a little while and then whisks his hand in an up-and-down motion before the god's eyes. "Hello? Someone still in there?"

Slightly startled, Loki turns towards Tony, almost as if he's surprised to see him there.

"So what did you guys talk about in there? I suppose you and Odin didn't reminisce about joint Christmas dinners or family vacations or anything, did you?" Tony asks as Loki has yet to say anything.

For a long time, Loki doesn't offer an answer, and the silence stretches on until Tony is sure that he isn't going to get a reply. Then, the god finally speaks.

"Odin wanted to know if I have learnt anything from my punishment."

"Well, have you?"

Another silence.

As he waits, Tony tugs at a loose seam sticking out from the embroidered armrest. The cloth rips. Oops.

"I have," Loki says, then, still with that distant look on his face.

"You mean anything apart from what kind of food pizza is and what sort of movies they show on the Playboy channel?" Tony asks, overcome by the sudden need to lighten the gravity of the situation a few notches.

Loki gives the ghost of a smile at the comment, then he turns serious again.

"I know it won't change anything," comes the soft reply. "But I do realize I was wrong trying to subjugate Midgard and its people." He makes a pause, and when he speaks again, his voice is sounding as if it's coming from a thousand miles away.

"I was jealous of Thor, because he was always excelling in everything and living up to the expected standards whereas I was not. As the years went on, I grew bitter and resentful, thinking it was all his fault. And I wanted some way to prove myself so I wouldn't have to live in his shadow anymore, to show that I could be just as good as him, even outdo him." He sighs, looking down on the floor, fingers intertwined. "I should have found some other way to do that. One that didn't involve innocent people getting hurt and killed."

There is another silence following that, and as it becomes clear that Loki won't say anything more, Tony speaks up. "You know what?" he says, placing a hand on Loki's shoulder. "You're not the first person to try to take over the world, nor the first one to fail in those endeavours, but I'm quite sure you're the first would-be world conqueror to express any regret over it, so that's gotta count for something."

They sit in silence for a while longer before Tony suggests that they should make their way back; Thor can catch up with them later.

As they walk, Loki is as quiet and taciturn as he was when they first came here to Asgard, even if the quality of that silence seems different now. But Tony decides not to prod further. Knowing that Loki has indeed come to regret his actions is enough for him, whatever it was that provided him with those insights.

And if there was ever any doubt of it, it's obvious that it won't be the same god returning to his tower that was sent to him all those long months ago.

He can't help but marvel at how he's already grown accustomed to having the comforting presence that is Tony lying next to him, despite it only being the third night they're sharing the same bed. But the regular sound of his breathing feels so natural, like it's always been there.

Earlier in the evening, Thor had told them that they are going back to Midgard tomorrow, and Loki is very much looking forward to returning. It's such a sharp contrast to the last time he was about to be sent over there; at the time, he had only felt fear and trepidation of what lay ahead, but now he's feeling a heady sense of relief.

For a little while, he watches the figure who is fast asleep under the covers next to him and then scoots over the distance separating them to nuzzle up at his back. The man's skin is warm against his, and as he admires the body pressed close against his he can't help but run a hand over the arm and the chest, letting his fingers trail softly and carefully as to not awaken Tony. After a few minutes of this, his hand finds its way downwards and ghosts over the man's crotch, already half-hard from the faint touches.

Reluctantly, he pulls his hand away, realizing that he will probably wake the man if he continues, and Tony surely needs his sleep after the long, strenuous day he's been through, topped off with his audience with the Allfather. And to be honest, after the hearing before Odin and the Council, he's not really that much in the mood for such activities himself.

At that, his thoughts drift back to earlier in the day and how he had been speaking before Odin, though this time it was all so very different from the last time, when he received his sentence. Because this time he faced the Allfather with the knowledge that he was indeed guilty of the crimes he had stood accused for. The time for excuses and denial was over. In the end, the choice to invade and conquer Midgard had been his, and no one else's, and the blame was his to bear.

And so, he had offered no justifications for his crimes, no questioning of the unlawfulness of his actions, nor any denial of his guilt.

'I realize I was wrong. My actions were wrong. I regret them and the suffering they have caused.' Those were the words he had spoken as he was kneeling before the throne of Odin, whereas last time, it had been a firestorm of ugly curses and vicious insults.

Odin had said nothing, then, not for a long time. Merely watched him in silence, his single eye glowing out of the shadows enshrouding the royal throne.

'It would seem that you have indeed learnt something during your time in Midgard, then, have you not,' Odin finally concluded. It was not quite a question, but Loki nodded all the same. Yes, he had indeed learnt things. Most importantly, how one of those mortals that he had tried to enslave had found the capacity to show him compassion and kindness after all he had done to him and his planet.

But Odin didn't ask further, instead letting things lie at that as the single eye bored into him, perhaps reading all his secrets without Loki having to speak a word of them. What the Allfather was thinking, then, Loki had no idea. Odin gave none of it away. He rarely did.

Perhaps there will be no clemency for him. In the end, perhaps he will still have to spend the rest of his life without his magic and his powers, in servitude and bondage to the humans.

If so, no matter how much the prospect makes his throat constrict, he can't say it would be undeserved.

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