fossilised | I come from a land of ice and snow

That sinking feeling in his stomach made him so ill. His whole being churned and rolled under his ribcage as if the center of the planet was now directly at his navel. Steven had been chosen. He’d not be allowed to say goodbye. Anthony told himself it didn’t matter. Their purpose was simple and that was to do as they were told. Life had to be meaningful in other ways and did not include making long lasting friendships. Luckily, Anthony never had long lasting friendships. Or any friendships.

Save for Steven.

A moment later, it occurred to him that if this man was going to give Steven to his brother and Anthony was able to make himself worthy, he might be chosen too. And then he and Steven would occasionally see one another. Probably. Hopefully. He squared his shoulders with purpose and marched the craftman to the bathing chambers. They were clean inside, not covered in muck as the other man had suspected. The guardians did not allow anyone to make a mess and much of the younger ones had cleaning duties daily.

Each stall was simple. There were currently no unclaimed inside and so there was no one to chase out for Anthony to give this man the most proper of tours. He was keen and clever about his abilities. He explained how the system worked and how the drainage to the garden helped them grow foods with better nutrients. Maybe that was boastful, but he never minded being so.

Anthony had pride. All of his guardians would tell Loki of that if he asked. It was not a trait they tried to cultivate.

As for the bird… That required the man following Anthony back to his tiny alcove sleeping chamber. He had a pallet bed and a chest underneath and that was it. He pulled back the curtain from his space to reveal intricate designs carved into the wall. Fifteen years of work went into those carvings. He fished out the little mechanical chirping bird and handed it easily over. “If you find it enjoyable, please, my gift to you for speaking with me today, sir.”

That pride was good too, for Loki was not always well liked and any property of his must be able to hold their head high even when others were trying to cast their eyes to the ground. Though, again, only time would tell if that pride bordered on arrogance and proved him unsuitable as property in formal situations or when Loki needed to be obeyed instantly and without question.

The bird, however, was exceptional. Oh, he had seen far greater and more intricate things on sale in the free markets, but this had been created by a slave with few tools and even few material, yet it was delicate, well made, and worked on design. His lips curled upwards at the presumption of a slave offering him a gift, as though any Asgardian could not simply take this as their right. But instead of chastising him, he dipped his head in thanks and slipped it into his pocket.

"Gather what belongings you wish, I will have them bring out your papers, I am purchasing you for myself. Before I finalise the sale, I shall give you the opportunity now to ask of me anything you may wish to, and to refuse should you desire."

Even though that was highly irregular, his main issue would be with an unwilling slave. Loki loved affection, he got too much hatred, he did not need a possession that resented being owned by him.

It was strange to be given permission to ask something out of turn. Normally Anthony did what he wanted, when he wanted. Or he was forced to do it. Either way, he was never spoken to so directly.

"I accept," he said immediately. He'd get to see Steven. That was almost the only thing he cared about. "I just want to know one thing."

Because his owner would obviously want him for his intelligence and problem solving abilities. There was no need to ask what his roles would be.

"I want to know who you are and what guild you are with, sir." He sort of wanted to throw his arms over Loki right now, he was so happy. He instead just hoped his grin showed how thrilling today was for him.

Though that sort of excitement and acceptance could be faked, Loki had a lot of experience with lies and he was often exceptional at spotting when other people tried to deceive him for he was a far more accomplished manipulator than they. So he believed that Anthony was happy for his lot today, and so he would finalise the sale to buy both the slaves he had picked out.

"I am Loki Odinson, and I have no guild for I stand as second son to the All-Father, my duties are not constrained so tightly as those of a working man."

Which meant, obviously, that Steven was to be a gift for Thor and that they were both going to live in the golden palace. His gaze flicked to the wooden carving briefly, considering having it ripped out and brought, but deciding against it. Should Anthony wish to carve around his new bed, he may start a new mural.

"Go now to find my other purchase, gather all your papers, and report to the stables for a mount."

The Prince. He had been talking to the Prince as if he was just a normal Asgardian to specialized in making little puzzle games. Anthony actually blanched a little and then took a sudden knee. He felt like he was about to puke, but that would only get his head kicked in. “I’m so-- I was-- Wow—“ he got to his feet just a moment later because he was otherwise not doing as he was told, made one low bow, and ran out of his quarters.

He didn’t need a single thing under his pallet. He was going to have new clothes and new tools and maybe the next person in his bunk could use whatever he left behind.

Anthony was not that athletic, but he could run pretty fast and so he dashed straight out to the yards and to where Steven was sitting with water and a sweat drenched tunic. “It’s Prince Thor. You’re going to be Prince Thor’s. And Prince Loki picked me. Get up. We have to go. Now. Get your things and meet me in the offices so we can get our papers and I could just kiss you right now, Steven-- The Princes-- We’re going to the palace!”

Steven had been sitting with his water, half morose and half excited. He may never see Anthony again, his closest friend in the world and just like that they were separated. That hurt him, even knowing the nature of their lives and how stupid they had both been to become friends over the years. But he was also excited, he was claimed, he'd have an owner to be loyal to who would hopefully be brave and strong and good.

He looked up sharply when Anthony suddenly appeared again at top speed, his mouth falling open in abject shock. He felt cold all over, he hadn't taken a knee once and Anthony had taken the Prince down into the slave quarters. And then a moment later it sank in and it was like all his dreams had come true at once. He rose to his feet and grabbed Anthony in a tight hug, half laughing and half crying.

"Really and truly? We're staying together? We're royal property? Odin's ravens, Anthony, why didn't anyone tell us that was Prince Loki? He looks nothing like his brother at all."

Wait. No. Papers. He suddenly let go and began pulling Anthony along towards the offices, talking all the while.

"What happened down there? How did you find out? Are you okay?"

“What? No, Steven, I’m being bought to be beheaded. What do you think happened to me that I wouldn’t be all right and I swear to Odin that if you pull my arm out of it’s socket—“ Anthony huffed and puffed the whole way to the offices, finally retrieving his wrist back so that he could bend over and set his hands on his knees. He needed to catch his breath, and soundly, because this was obviously not going to be so great for either of them if they fall over dead.

The woman behind the tall desk looked over a stack of books at them. “Can I help you…”

“Prince Loki-- Needs our—“ He sort of twirled one finger in a circle in hopes that Steve would figure out what was going on here and pick up for him where he left off. Thankfully, Steve was in much better shape and he had no trouble asking for paperwork and the logs of their deeds, to be turned over to their new owners. The woman arched an eyebrow.

“The Princes never come to select their own household slaves. And certainly never ones of three knots…”

“Well then you can have a laugh later tonight, Ingrid,” Anthony said, straightening up. “Or hopefully you’ll never see us again.” He took his own book from the desk and thumbed through it, wincing a little. Too bad he couldn’t rip out pages of infractions.

Steven's book had fewer infractions, but it still contained a lot for fighting. He just couldn't let bullies go, even if those were sometimes the guards. He knew his lot, he accepted that he was lesser, but being greater than someone else meant using that strength to protect and not make sport of them like they were animals to be tortured. He wouldn't stand for that.

He grinned at Ingrid and took his book, even as she went to the door to peer out and see if she could see any evidence of the princes. The sight of the three serving staff in Loki's colours made her pale and dart back behind her books again.

"See that you don't shame us, now go!"

Steven's grin just got wider and he pulled Anthony out again, free from the main compound and out towards the stables where he could see Loki already sat astride his horse, a gorgeous sleek grey creature, with two dun horses tethered behind him. Steven took a knee at once, not that Loki seemed to notice.

"You will not ride back with me. Blond slave..." He checked the records held out to him, and then tossed a finely wrought dwarven steel dagger to Anthony by the hilt. "Steven, you are to be a gift for my brother's birthday, and so must not be seen by him until then. This dagger will provide proof of ownership to the palace guards, have them show you both to my chambers and provided with suitable clothing."

Though he took a knee only after Steve did, Anthony rose to pull the dagger out of the soil. This wasn’t a whole lot of direction and Anthony was just a little at a loss for what to do, not because he didn’t have much of a frame work, but because he was so stupidly excited that he was sure to fall off of the beaten path at this point and disgrace everyone. He’d been taught to ride at an early age, that was no problem, every first knot unclaimed could do it, but it had been awhile since he had been on a horse. Luckily, Loki had ridden off before Anthony could make his first attempt since he ended up sliding on his back foot and nearly falling under the animal’s body.

If it wasn’t for Steven, he might never have properly mounted. “Not a word,” he muttered to his friend as they took off, dagger in his boot. It proved to be instrumental to get through the gates to the inner city, though the outer city didn’t even blink at them as they rode through. Anthony had to keep his eyes down lest he get some ideas and ended up just trotting after Steven as they entered the royal sanctum and were directed to the stables.

The palace was unbelievable already and they were just in the courtyard. Anthony’s heart was almost fluttering with excitement as he slid off of his horse, properly, while one of the stable girls waited for him to hurry it up.

“We’re going to be so lost,” he told Steven as they set up the stairs through the servant’s entry way. No one made too much of a fuss despite their brown tunics, until they tried to get into the prince’s wing of the palace. The dagger wasn’t good enough then. And neither was the game of twenty questions to guards played.

Steven raised himself up to his full height to try and look more imposing, not that it worked when faced with Asgardians, and got that set to his jaw that said he was about to start arguing even if it was incredibly stupid to do so. But he didn't want to fail the very first duty they had been given, they had to find a way into the proper rooms and get the clothing that Prince Loki had ordered them to get.

What useless purchases would they prove to be if they couldn't even do that?

"You have to let us past, we were bought by Prince Loki not two hours ago and he has instructed us to come and be outfitted for his service. You're obstructing his orders, not just us."

The guard reached out and backhanded Steven firmly across the face.

"Learn your place, mortal. The prince would not buy slaves who did not know how to behave, and no word has come to expect you."

Did they really think royal guards would let in possible assassins just because they had a dagger that was of good enough quality to have possibly belonged to one of their princes?

“So… Sure. I’ll just stand around with you and wait. And if one of the princes should see us standing here as we we’re still unclaimed, that’ll work out perfect for everyone, right?” Anthony’s wit was biting. “Or better yet, put us in the dungeons. That’s going to look great for you. And so will bruising the merchandise. He’s Prince Thor’s present for his birthday. I believe Prince Loki is going to be pretty upset if he’s got to give Prince Thor something damaged. But that’s just me as a stupid, foolish mortal. What do you think, Steven?”

The guard ended up searching them in a huff, thorough and somewhat humiliating. Anthony was used to it. The guardians at the unclaimed village outside of Asgard’s walls had some very strict policies. And he’d had his full training besides. He was a little sore at the end of the search, but he was otherwise unharmed. And Steven’s cheek would heal.

At least they were allowed to stay in Loki’s chambers…even if Anthony wasn’t even remotely ready to see what Asgardian splendor could truly look like.

He nearly wept for all of the books and shoved his fingers into the waistband of his tunic. He wanted to touch everything.

Anthony wasn't the only one unprepared for this level of opulence, and not even for the amount of books. The marble surfaces inlaid with gold, the wood that had been buffed to a shine, the bed full of furs that was larger than their whole slave quarters. There were even three bathing pools, one for washing, one for hot water to soak in, and one for cold water to ease tired muscles. This was truly the chamber of royalty, and he had no idea what to do with himself.

"Anthony, I do not see a slave chamber."

He had been through the same lessons as Anthony, and they had been taught that most people who owned personal slaves had an adjoined room to their bedroom that the slave would stay in, so they could be called quickly if needed. But there was none here, Steven even opened all the doors to see, but each were filled with more luxury and decadence.

"What do you suppose will be--"

He was cut off as the door opened and one of the palace slaves came in with a tape measure and gestured to Anthony.

"You need to be fitted, correct? Prince Loki's colours are green, silver, and black; once you've been properly outfitted then you are forbidden from wearing other colours. And you are to be fitted in Prince Thor's colours, and palace colours for just this week."

"Just be mindful that I'm ticklish," Anthony said as he was told to stand up on a small tuffet of green silk trimmed in gold braiding. He lifted his arms once his tunic was removed, having no shame at all in his body. He was shorter than some men, not as thick, and his eyes were almost too large for his face and lined in thick, long lashes, but he wasn't bad to look at. He had no scars and his nails were clean. That was a sign of where he had been raised. The unclaimed slave village was known for its stock after all. There was a reason Loki had gone there first to see what it had to offer him.

The tailor was an older man with wrinkled hands and he made quick work of the tape, a magical book recording every measurement as they were ticked off. "I'll send in one of the domestic slaves to draw you each a butter milk bath. And you will need your hair trimmed," he said to Steven when it was his turn to be measured up. The tailor had to grunt and stretch to get everything perfectly. "Those in service to Prince Thor must have shorn hair for battle."

Asgardians did not usually follow that rule themselves but it was better for their slaves to have the best defenses possible. And that included not having their hair be of grabable length.

He hobbled away ten minutes later, muttering about having basic under tunics sent up within the hour, and closed the door only for that door to reopen with a slam as five women, all Midgardians, bustled in with two large tubs between them.

"In, in. Girls, get ready to scrub," the matron said in her palace colors. "Pay closer attention to the dark haired one. Prince Loki will need him upon return from his ride."

The unclaimed slave village had prepared him for many things. He had been taught to read and write in the languages of Asgard, Vanaheim, and Alfheim; he had been taught to ride, use a variety of weapons, wrestle, and recite long epics. He had also been taught how to give pleasure to both a man and a woman, for some slaves were sold primarily for bed sport, and many owners used their slave for that even if it wasn't their primary purpose.

Never having been raised on Midgard, Steven did not see a problem with this. He had been raised on Asgardian sexual morals, which was that the act was healthy and enjoyable for all to indulge in, not some sacred thing to be kept in the bounds of a marriage bed. He wondered if the buttermilk bath, such an extravagance, was because Loki would want to use Anthony tonight. Maybe him too, to make sure he was up to standard to give to his brother.

Either way, it still felt overwhelming as he sank into the huge tub and allowed the women to scrub at his skin and shave his hair off.

"Are you excited, Anthony?" He murmured to his friend, being chosen was such a big thing, but this was all so much. He was more nervous now than excited himself, the enormity of his situation just hitting him.

Sex was nothing at this point. He'd protested the phallus when he was initially given his second knot but he'd grown to enjoy it well enough. Some of the slaves enjoyed one another too but Anthony had never really been anyone's ideal partner with his mouthiness and so he was a little out of practice. Not that he would mind if Loki wanted to bed him. Actually, it would be a pretty fitting end to the day. That said, he would rather explore a little and learn everything he could about his owner. It would give him a little insight on how best to get out of some of his duties.

Loki had been right about Anthony's chaotic side. He rebelled because he enjoyed rebelling but he knew his place and wanted to be here. He just had to test his bounds.

As the women scrubbed him raw, he blinked up at Steven and the scant bit of hair he was allowed to keep. "Pretty sure I'm about to wake up at any second. This is insane," he said, which made the girls giggle and their matron clap their hands. "What? You guys were probably raised here, right? Parents were palace slaves?"

"Most of us, yes," one girl said shyly. "But I came from Vanaheim with the Lady Frigga as part of her dowry."

Anthony frowned. "You'd have to be really old--"

"You'll come to understand when you taste the apples," she said kindly. "Let me have your foot."

Steven had been much more popular among the other slaves once he had passed his gangly teenager phase and had the weaknesses of his Midgardian body healed for him, and he had often been too polite to say no so at least he was well versed with how to please both men and women. His eyes widened at the girl who was older than even his prince, and yet still a Midgardian, feeling a blossom of hope that he might follow suit and live a long life in meaningful service.

They had barely been cleaned when they were both being hauled out of the baths and dried with insistent hands, and then undertunics pulled onto both. Soft cotton of a slightly better quality than their unclaimed tunics had been. Steve was then given an all black tunic in a soft material as a palace slave, which made him look smart and his eyes extra blue. Anthony, though, was given real aurochs leather that had obviously been made immediately for the seams were still hot where they had been manipulated to be sewn. Black with green trim, along with a dagger of his own.

The matron examined them both when they were done, reaching down to force Anthony to stand taller and try to seem less short than he really was.

"Good. Prince Loki will likely not be long."

Watered wine was offered along with some fruits and nuts for a meal and then the two were left alone. Anthony was quiet. Very quiet. Steven had always been kind to him, had always taken his meals with him when he was sat alone and though he had a lot of friendly faces to spend his days with, it was Anthony he chose to spend his time with. Therefore, he knew by now what to look for when something was wrong.

"It's so tight," the shorter man said when prompted, carefully touching the fine lines of the jerkin. He looked amazing, regal despite his wild mop of hair. But he had never worn anything like this before. It had been simply brown tunics, trousers, boots and a knotted waist cord. And nothing else. Now he had on a belt and a fitted garment and knee boots--

He was just overwhelmed. He was start to swim in that feeling, turmoil bubbling beneath the surface of his amber colored eyed.

"I'm going to make him so mad," he whispered. "I make everyone so mad. I'm going to mess up and that will be it and I'll never see you again."

Steven wished that he could reassure Anthony that this wasn't going to be the case, but he couldn't, because he knew all too well just how much his friend's mouth ran away with him on occasion and how irreverent he could be with his betters. He could get away with that with the guardians of the unclaimed slave quarters, but not with one of the Princes of the realm.

"You're the most intelligent person I've ever met, Anthony, if anyone can be smart enough to work out when to say something and when not, it's you. I know it's tough, but this is an amazing opportunity for you. For us. If they kill you, I'd miss you every day for the rest of my life."

He smiled softly and reached over to touch one leather covered shoulder.

"He must have seen something in you that he wanted, or he wouldn't have bought you. Hold onto that. And if he's a cruel master, then tell me and we'll work out how to get you away from him."

"Such treasonous talk," murmured Loki as he entered the room, amused smile on his lips. "Barely in my possession for hours and already plotting your escape from bonds? Did I choose unwisely?"

Anthony stared at Steven as if he had grown two heads and was leaking purple pus. The man had been trying to reassure him and now he was going to get them both killed. His jaw was still working when Strven wisely dropped to his knees. Anthony couldn't seem to move though his eyes did lift to Loki. "There's no place for a slave to go when he isn't owned," he said, forcing out the words before he choked on them.

He wasn't scared of Loki. And he wasn't scared of death. But this was opportunity. This was something he had never had in his life and he wasn't going to let it go.

"What's more, my prince, there has never been a luckier slave than I. I will never leave you. Even if you see it fit to be cruel to me, I'm sure I've deserved it. Don't throw me away yet. Let me prove myself." Anthony should have bowed by now, but he felt himself grow bolder and more defiant with each word. "You will never regret choosing me. Never, my prince. It's my first promise to you."

He could not really promise to always do his best, but at least he was honest now.

To a point. Because sooner or later, everyone except mister perfect over there with the rubbed off on big mouth cast him out.

Loki wasn't angry, he had heard enough of the conversation to know that the words had just been ill-timed and ill thought through attempts to cheer up a friend. Interesting, that the two slaves he had picked were companions, perhaps even in mind to be consorts properly with one another, or perhaps just a deep friendship. He did not need Anthony's impassioned speech, but he listened to it with intense green eyes fixed on his new slave's face.

"A dangerous promise to make when you do not know me, what I desire of you, and you capabilities to fulfil those roles. But perhaps not so foolishly made yet, for I do not regret it to this moment."

He touched Steven on the head to indicate that he should rise.

"Such words are bordering on insanity, you would do well not to repeat them. Think on your mistakes as I show Anthony to his furs so that he knows which part of my chambers belong to him."

Loki's long fingers flicked toward Anthony in a gesture to follow. He didn't go far, only into one of his many side rooms where it was currently a sitting area with high windows and comfortable seats for entertaining guests. A brilliant flash of green light followed, transforming the room completely so that it contained a chest for clothes, another for weapons, a moderately sized pallet with furs, and low set bath, a toilet, and a workbench with some simple tools.

There had been no space for a personal slave and now there was. Anthony was not to be a craftsman or a servant called upon only occasionally. He was to be Loki's personal slave. Realization hit him hard. No newly claimed slave could hope to have worked their way up so quickly. Not even to a merchant class. And farmers never had personal slaves. But Loki ought to have had a personal slave for years. For centuries now. And yet, it was obvious that he did not.

Anthony was bordering between smugness and panic. Did he remember the proper ways to serve? Could be fight sleep to come when called? How would the other slaves take him since he now would be in command when it came to Loki's wishes? He felt his palms start to sweat as he forced himself forward to look over the tools.

"Thank you... I'm-- I'm really honored. I don't think I've ever seen..." He had to get a hold of himself. He was no sniveling brat. He was chosen to be a personal slave of a prince. He couldn't pinch himself properly thanks to the leather but he didn't want to wake up so it was all right. He straightened up as best as he could. "Prince Loki, I know you haven't told me what you're expecting of me but.... I'm really happy to be here. Are those wolf furs? Wow!"

Perhaps he should have stayed more sniveling and less entirely too excitable.

Anthony was clearly undisciplined and overwhelmed, he had a mixture of pride and ambition which had yet to level themselves out for he obviously did not know how to react or feel currently. It was to be expected, most of the royals and families close to theirs in status had personal slaves for a long time, or promoted existing slaves to the position when children came old enough to need one of their own. Steven would not be Thor's personal slave, though he of course would belong to him, his duties would be Thor's decision to make.

"You were not taught in the unclaimed slave village how to serve a master as a personal slave? Your education, it seems, was lacking. You will assume responsibility for my meals when I choose not to take them in the hall, the maintenance and cleaning of my clothes and weaponry, the maintenance and security of my chambers, you will accompany me when I travel between realms on diplomatic and warrior business to see to my needs, and you will fulfil any other order I choose to give to you."

Loki was pleased despite the behavioural issues, for Anthony had shown no sign of repugnance at his magic, only excitement and bewilderment. That was an important barrier crossed.

"I have been served by palace slaves until now. You would do well to speak with Bruce, a house slave, he has served me the most in the past decade. I will allow one week for the learning of duties and be lenient with mistakes in this time, but you and Steven will be perfect come the feast of my brother's birth celebration. That will be your first duty, to ensure that Steven is also up to standard. Now go, I wish to read, do not disturb me until evening meal."

Anthony made tiny little chicken headbobs without any back talk. He thought his training went fine, thank you, for what he remembered of it. He could fold clothing and polish armor. He could fetch meals and warm furs. The rest would need to be learned gradually through experience since he needed to figure out the way Loki wanted tasks completed rather than how his trainers assumed a master might.

He backed out of the room with Steveb behind him ubtil he could shut the doors to Loki's chamber. His forehead fell forward then and smacked the heavy wood. His eyes closed.

"My master has it backwards. You're already up to snuff. You've got to make sure I am," Anthony said to Steve. "So we have to find this Bruce." The guard that had stopped them before made sure not to look at either now as they passed in proper attire, though Anthony smirked at him. He liked being proven right.

They would end up having to ask directions of other house slaves who seemed confused by Anthony's crest and colors as they pointed them in the direction of the slave quarters. Anthony wasn't prepared for Bruce's small room, filled with books and parchment. The slaves in the palace had so much priveledge he couldn't get his mind around it... Though it still felt right to have it. Anthony leaned against the doorway and watched the man read for a moment, curls obscuring his eyes, before he knocked on the jamb. "Hey. Are you Bruce? Prince Loki sent me to get lectured by you."

Bruce enjoyed somewhat more privilege than some of the other house servants, because he had been a favourite of Odin on campaigns before his berserker blood got the better of him. It was a rare condition, but in a fight he lost all sense of friend or foe, all rationality, and became damn near unstoppable. He had to be retired from the field after he killed three Asgardian warriors by mistake, and he did not regret his move to palace house staff, for it allowed him to maintain his peace.

He glanced up, surprise lighting his face when he saw that the young man in front of him was dressed in Loki's colours. He hadn't thought that the prince would choose a personal slave now, but of course he had gone and plucked one untested and untrained properly from the village.

"Yes, that's me, come in. And you are--?"

"Oh, I'm Steven. I'm to belong to Prince Thor, but not until his birth celebration day, so I need to masquerade as a palace worker until then."

"All right. Prince Thor is easier to serve, anyway. He enjoys the hunt, as long as you can keep up, fight, polish weapons and armour, and can skin and tan furs, then you'll be fine. Prince Loki is more of a scholar, you'll need to be smart and good at thinking on your feet, because your duties will inevitably need to be adapted around his moods and activities."

Bruce finally set his book down and got up, stretching the ache in his back as he did so.

"I hope you're not fond of sleep, both princes have exceptional stamina and can sometimes go days without."

"You could try to sugar coat it a little," Anthony wrinkled his nose and the. Introduced himself and Steven before impetuously climbing up to the bottom of Bruce's bed. He was immediately taken with the older man, at the way he held himself and how easy it felt to talk to him. Anthony hadn't been exposed to many older Midgardians in his life. The guardians, sure, but they were authority figures. Trainers. They gave orders and Anthony was expected to follow them. He never saw instruction as a means to help him out actually. Perhaps that ought to have been something instilled in him when he was young but it never had been. Some spirits could not be muted or quelled. And the bright eyed nearly-twenty year old was one of those spirits.

"I know the basics. I lived in the village since I was four. And Steven can run circles around me serving. Literally. I just-- I've never been anywhere else. Does Prince Loki travel a lot? I guess he does. That makes sense. But when you say he has moods--"

Anthony leaned in. Some people had absolutely no sense of physical space. He smelled like lavender and milk and honey. Like a freshly bathed prized pig. One who didn't actually know how to be a pig.

"I learn fast. So just throw it all at me and I promise most of it will stick."

Anthony could be intense when he was passionate. Bruce was in for one hell of a day.

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you're up early... or late!

Just woke up having to pee is all. XD