Author's note: Glad you're still enjoying the smutty bits, people; there shall be plenty more of it coming. :D
"Okay, so what about this?" Tony flicks a switch, and the monitor before them beeps, endless lines of numbers and readings flickering by on the screen.
Loki closes his eyes, trying to focus on the force field emanating from the little device on the workbench. He lifts a hand towards it, fingers slowly wiggling through the air. There is no doubt something different about it now; the transmitter doesn't give off quite the same vibe as last time they did this.
He concentrates on the faint undulations tingling on the receptors of his skin, comparing them to the ones given off by the bracelets around his wrists. After a little while of this, he opens his eyes again, turning to Tony, who is watching him with an expectant look.
"It feels a bit more akin to the field blocking my magic now," he nods. "The frequency is still not quite the same and the field itself is less dense and compact, but it's definitely more similar this time, yes."
"Really?" Tony lights up like a little child who has just been given a bottomless bag of sweets, clenching his hands into fists in delight. "That's freakin' awesome!" Triumphantly, he plonks himself down before one of the many screens, almost manically typing away on his keyboard. "I think we have a real breakthrough here! The adjustments I made to the transmitter really are having an effect on this weirdo force field. Even if the frequency still isn't correct, I can make some further modifications, like in the amplitude of the electromagnetic current and some other stuff, and we should get there eventually!"
He demonstratively presses a final key and then spins his chair. "Haha! Doctor Doom, prepare to meet your doom!" he announces dramatically to no one in particular as he revolves in his swivelling chair.
Loki watches the man's little outburst of elation with a little smile on his lips. The tests he's been sitting through are pretty dull and repetitive, but he endures the sessions for two reasons.
He gets to be of help to Tony. And he gets to be close to Tony.
Well, three reasons, actually.
He also gets to see Tony's face light up with joy.
The days pass quickly. A lot of their time together is spent working on the magic blocker in the workshop, running tests and analyzing the new modifications that Tony has made. That, and having sex, rutting like pink little bunnies, and then cuddling like Care-bears.
And if there's one thing that Tony has learnt during these last couple of weeks, it's that Loki is a vocalizer. Or a screamer, or a moaner, or whatever you want to call it. And damn, if he doesn't approve of that.
And right now, that vocalizer is sitting perched on his couch, flipping through a magazine of some sort, his back against the armrest and one leg drawn up beneath him. As if he can sense Tony's hungry stare raking over his body, he looks up from the glossy pages with a wicked smile on his face, meeting with Tony's gaze as he very discreetly, but still very pointedly, lets his legs fall open slightly in a way that looks innocently casual but is most certainly not.
Tony is about to get up from his chair and make his way over to those invitingly spread legs, but then, without warning, an ear-deafening clash of thunder cuts through the silence, followed by the pungent, acrid smell of ozone.
Only seconds later, the God of Thunder himself materializes right in the middle of Tony's living room, complete with red cape billowing from his shoulders and mighty hammer in a tight grasp. And a grin on his face that would put the Cheshire Cat to shame. Tony swallows, finding himself distinctively grateful that Thor didn't apparate in here ten minutes later, or that joyful smile would probably have turned into a grimace of abject horror instead, considering his depraved plans for the Thunderer's little brother.
"My friends," Thor booms before the blue glow from the medallion clasped in his non-Mjölnir-holding hand has even faded. "I come bearing fantastic tidings from Asgard!"
And the tidings must be fantastic indeed if Thor doesn't even wait with this announcement before having first greeted them both with his usual vise-like embraces, to say nothing of materializing directly into Tony's living room instead of outside where he can knock on the door like a normal guest. Tony holds his breath for what is coming next, and he can see Loki freezing in his spot on the couch, like a rabbit cornered by a predator, afraid to move for fear of what might happen if he does.
But Thor beams like the sun itself.
"The sentence has been changed, Loki!" Thor joyfully exclaims, eyes shining. "It has been decided that you will spend two more years as a slave in Midgard before being given your freedom back, on certain conditions and with a number of restrictions." Thor fumbles beneath his shirt and then pulls a parchment out, Tony whimsically resisting the impulse to tell the god to invest in a man-bag for the next time he's going to be transporting important documents. "However, before being allowed to return to Asgard again after those two years are over, you must find a way to make proper amends for your crimes against the human realm. The details of the ruling are all outlined here!" he says, waving the formal-looking piece of paper around.
And Tony's heart is skipping like mad in relief. So Loki will be free again, not having to spend the rest of his life as someone's freaking property. It's like a heavy stone has fallen from his chest, or rather like the Rocky Mountains, knowing that Loki will actually be allowed to have a real, proper life again.
Granted, two years isn't a very long time to make up for being responsible for the deaths of so many people, but considering how many innocent lives his own weapons have taken over the years, Tony figures he isn't really one to talk. At least the outcome of his own doings was a few billion dollars in the bank, not two years as a slave.
He has no idea how the amends deal is going to work, but they can figure that one out later on. The important thing is that the slavery part will be revoked; that's really all that matters right now. Everything else can be worked out later.
The look on Loki's face as he takes the rolled-up parchment out of Thor's hand to carefully un-scroll it and read the carefully scribbled runes makes Tony's throat constrict – it's a heart-wrenching mixture of disbelief, happiness and dawning hope.
Thor regards his little brother with overflowing benevolence, eyes moist. "The chains around your wrists will still have to stay on until you have proven yourself worthy of having them removed, but your magic will be returned to you gradually after those two years are over, as long as you abide by the stipulated conditions."
And then the Thunderer can't control his powerful emotions any longer, but reaches down and more or less lifts Loki up from the couch to cover him with his powerful arms in an all-encompassing hug filled with that famous brotherly love and concern; Tony almost winces. It sure looks painful, even though Loki isn't complaining.
"What do you say, brother?" Thor asks, voice cracking slightly. "Isn't this wonderful?"
"It is," Loki says quietly, sounding dazed, like someone just being told they've won ten million dollars on the lottery, like he can't believe this is really true. Probably, he barely can. Heck, Tony can hardly believe it either, not after having faced off with that tough-guy Odin who looked like he would rather stick his other eye out than going back on a decision already made.
"Wow, that is totally awesome," Tony says, and he really means it too. "The Mediaeval slavery deal will be off soon enough, and then there's just the tiny detail of keeping this little arrangement under SHIELD's radar, and we're all set." Considering that he's kept a shitload of stuff away from their nosy selves over the years, he should be able to pull this off as well.
Thor turns into Tony's direction, slowly and reluctantly letting go of the god clasped firmly to his chest. He looks slightly more subdued, now. "Actually, that was the next part I was about to tell you. Director Fury has already been informed of this. I was at SHIELD's headquarters only moments ago delivering the very same message to Fury before I came here."
And Tony feels something within him freeze like the goddamn Arctic. "What the hell did you just say, Thor?" he sputters, hoping he really didn't hear that shit correctly. "You've told Fury about this? Are you fucking kidding me?"
"Yes," Thor nods. "I did so on Odin's explicit orders. As the leader of your world, Fury was to be the first one to be informed about this arrangement, to make sure he would have no direct objections against Loki being let off with such a lenient sentence after his crimes against Midgard."
That's just wrong on so many levels. And just when the hell did Fury get upgraded to the position of Leader of Planet Earth? Though, the assumptions probably makes sense; it figures that a god of war coming from a Might Makes Right kind of society would naturally assume that the leader of Earth's strongest and mightiest warriors would also be the Leader of All Humanity.
And if Tony can totally picture the self-satisfied look on Fury's face at that title. And coming from a god, no less.
"Damn," he finally manages as the world around him is coming apart in broken little shards. "Fuck." How the hell is he going to get Loki out of this now?
"While I was concerned about the Director's reaction, I am glad to say that he did not voice any immediate objections after hearing my words and having read through the written message from Odin that I personally delivered to him," Thor says, crossing his arms as he draws himself up in what seems to be a subconscious gesture of authority.
"Really now. And do pray tell, what exactly did he say, then?" Tony half-yells, worry and concern swirling inside of him. "Did smoke come out of his ears? How many veins did he burst? How many pieces of furniture got thrown out the window? Huh?"
"Actually-" Thor begins, but before he gets any further, his reply is interrupted by a buzz on the intercom.
Great. Just great.
And Tony doesn't need to answer that buzz to know the one-eyed glare that will be greeting him on the screen, demanding to be let into his tower.
He turns to the dark-haired god who is still clutching the parchment in his hands as if it were a costly treasure.
There's no way he's going to let Fury take Loki away. No way in hell.
"Okay, Loki," he says, trying to sound confident. "I think you'd better go to your room and remain in there while I sort things out with Director Cyclops."
He sits there quietly on his bed, parchment still tightly clutched in his hands after having read it through at least ten times already, wanting to make sure that the words contained therein haven't morphed into something else, or that he has somehow misread them.
But he has not. The message inside is clear. Two years, and he will be given his freedom back.
Of course, there were conditions and stipulations in that parchment, too. Lots of them. And the chains would not come off for a long time after those two years, but the enchantments woven into them would be undergoing step-wise modifications, each one allowing another piece of his magic to return to him, as long as he kept proving himself trustworthy and reformed.
There is something fluttering in his stomach at the thought of once more being able to access his magic. It's one of those things that he's tried not to think about since receiving his sentence; becoming a slave was bad enough and all he was able to focus on at the time. The concept of never being allowed to use magic again was something he had shoved away into the deepest and darkest corners of his brain, as it was simply too much to deal with on top of everything else.
Two years. For someone like him who has been alive two thousands of them, it's a negligible period of time. And it will certainly be as nothing with Tony as his master.
Of course, he will also have to find some way to make amends for all the suffering he has caused in Midgard, one way or the other. But he has two years to consider that; he will think of a way to offer what recompense he can.
Though, there is a pang of unease in his stomach at the thought of Director Fury sitting out there with Tony, discussing his fate and his lessened sentence. While Thor did say that Fury did not voice any direct objections when he passed the message from Odin onto the man, that doesn't mean that he will be content or won't make trouble.
And if Fury wants to take him away from Tony and into SHIELD custody... He grimaces; he's already spent enough time as their guest after his failed invasion, and it isn't an experience he cares to revisit.
But hopefully Tony will be able to convince the man otherwise.
He sighs, looking down at the parchment again, once more rereading the carefully scribbled runes outlining the conditions.
Two years.
It's much better than what he had ever dared to hope for.
And if he's to be honest, surely a lot better than what his crimes would merit.
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