fossilised | I come from a land of ice and snow

Over the next two hours, James gave both Anthony and Steven the tour. Steven would need to find a place to sleep in the slave quarters across the private courtyard and Anthony would have to understand a few things about the brothers. Like how it was perfectly acceptable to make demands of Thor in Loki's name. "It is always best to favour the younger brother when it comes to demands and queries. Thor would (and has) moved mountains for Loki. I've spent my childhood with them. Loki can be cruel if he doesn't get his way and Thor is more forgiving."

Not once was there a Prince thrown in there. James spoke familiarly of them. But having spent almost seven hundred years with the brothers, he was privy to a great deal of insider information and a comfort level that few matched. Some slaves had served longer than he had but very few personal slaves had. The apples would give him another hundred years or so. But no more than that. He would start to age rapidly before Thor's next millennial. It was sad to think he might never see him take the throne.

He just hoped to die in battle first so he could wait to serve his prince in.Valhalla.

Anthony was impressed but as the sun was nearly at the mid day level, he excused himself with a lingering embrace for Steve.

He had to get back to Loki. James would tell Steven that he was surprised his friend had the itch already-- that call to serve. "He's like... So arrogant. I would never peg him for a good slave. But he's loyal. You can't fault that. Now we have a lot to do for the party. You can help Adriela with changing the furs and stoking the fire. We need to get these chambers clean."

Steven didn't know the truth about the apples yet, and he might be saddened when he learned that James would be gone before another century was out. But James wasn't that sad, he knew he had lived a good long time and knowing when he might go helped him to know when he had to start looking for someone to recommend to Thor to replace him once he was gone.

He trusted his master to send him into a battle that he couldn't possibly win before his time was over, to give him the honour of dying as the warrior he had lived as. And when that happened, he would dive into the fight with a full heart and take as many of them with him as possible, as befit a personal slave to the future king.

Anthony had arrived at the stables only a few minutes before Loki and Thor arrived back together, and he earned an approving nod from his master for not only remembering his instructions but following them in an exemplary fashion.

"I have need to bathe before the feasting begins, my brother, and I am sure you wish to inspect your slave more. Anthony shall keep me company in my bath, and we shall both come to the feast relaxed and ready to celebrate."

Thor hugged his brother fiercely in thanks for his gifts. The horse had ridden well, perfectly spirited and capable of not only carrying him tirelessly, but also inclined to head through rough terrain without balking. Thor was beyond pleased. He wasn't sure if he enjoyed the slave better, for he was a fine specimen and a capable fighter, or the steed better and told Loki he liked them both equally and would remember this boon well.

Anthony made sure to reign and stable the horse his master rode for the grooms to take over and then hurried to follow Loki back to his chambers. He had made sure to stop by the kitchen on the way down to the stables and there was a spread of fish and cheese for Loki to nibble at if he chose while he prepared himself.

"How was your ride, my prince?" He asked for he could never stay silent for too long. And Loki seemed in a good mood.

"Pleasant, though we saw no game to hunt, it was a good test of the stallion's mettle, a test passed."

Loki strode through the palace corridors to his own chambers, long legs eating up the distance easily and assuming that Anthony would keep up even if his slave, with much shorter legs, needed to jog in order to keep pace.

"But my muscles are now sore and I wish the heat of a bath and the warmth of a body to couple with."

He intended for that to be Anthony, it saved the trouble of going to seek out another who might share his company in the bathtub.

He'd had the training but not much opportunity to use it. The moment he had been of age, he and all of the others in his age group had been exposed to those sorts of skills. And, of course, they were encouraged to practice with one another. No harm could come of it. In order for slaves to breed, their masters would have to gift them with fertility. And the more desensitized they were with sex, the less they would attempt to use it for leverage or as a weapon. Rape was unheard of in the village. Respect and consent was ground into their being. Most Asgardians preferred consent from their slaves as well. Rape was for conquest. Midgardians were not much of a conquest when they were already slaves.

"Shall I call for someone in particular to assist or will you allow me the honor?" Anthony found himself unsure, however, which option he wanted. Loki was his prince and his master and Anthony would gladly share his furs. But it had been a long time for him. He rarely found interested partners despite his good looks. And he was far too interested in himself to pursue anyone.

After chores and training, Anthony preferred to build than to couple as his way of relieving stress.

He didn't know if he remembered how to be properly pleasing but he would try.

That did not sound enthusiastic, despite the formal and loyal way it was said. Anthony made it sound like he would join Loki in his bath if he ordered him to, but he would not be desirous of such an outcome. Loki did not wish an unwilling partner, he did not enjoy rape even as a means of conquest, there were far more intelligent ways to break an enemy and subjugate them.

"Should you not wish to join me in my bath, you may find another to take your place."

Slightly frosty answer given, for he was quick to see a snub even where there wasn't one, Loki turned into his chambers and walked direct to the bathtubs which were already full of water so hot that steam rose off it in a perfumed cloud. The palace servants knew that both princes enjoyed a bath after a ride, even if it had not been a particularly strenuous one.

Having been Loki's slave for but a week, Anthony could not see the danger sign of Loki's sudden chill. It at least kept him from second guessing himself, though. He immediately moved to follow Loki, a knot in the lower part of his stomach, just above his groin, forming. It was a warmth he hadn't experienced in a long time, a sort of tingle, and he knew immediately that it was desire.

"It was more a question of wondering if you would prefer someone else," Anthony said, quickly, moving to collect Loki's clothing if he decided to strip the conventional way or if he would just use magic. Anthony found both to be appealing to watch, for different reasons. "I have wanted...."

No. That was a bad phrase. It was a phrase that his trainers and guardians had tried their best to teach him to never use. But Anthony was stubborn. Why was it bad to have wants? One's master came first but losing one's self in the process would make it pointless to have slaves. Asgardians could craft golems if they only wanted runners and fetchers.

"I've wanted to you ask me to warm your furs since you claimed me."

Perhaps want was not a term that slaves were encouraged to use, but in this instance it was exactly the right thing to say. It wasn't formal, it wasn't trite, and it convinced Loki that Anthony had been telling the truth. It melted the ice and made him smile once more, the sultry smirk of a predator who had just been given permission by his prey to take what he wanted.

"Then you had best divest yourself of clothing and get into the water, my Anthony."

Loki chose to use magic to send his clothing away rather than leave it on a pile on the floor, or waste time having Anthony tidy it away before they could get to the far more pleasurable pasttimes he had in mind for the rest of that morning. Loki's body was all lean muscle and creamy white skin, long legs stepping into the heated water with a small sigh of contentment.

"Hurry, Anthony, I do not wish to have to give the same order twice."

He wasted no time. Though the leather jerkin of his rank happened to take him quite a while at first to get used to, now he could remove it with ease. He did his best to have it off to the side but as much as one man didn't care to have piles, Anthony didn't care. He was last off with his boots and made a splash into the water. His skin was tanned from outdoor work and his body well defined and taken care of. The trainers had pushed them to maintain themselves for looks as well as skills mattered in being chosen and they ought to do what they could with what they could.

As such, Anthony had powerful leg muscles and a strong core. His arms were not too thick, his belly wasn't soft, and though his hands were not calloused, as he touched Loki's skin with reverence, head bowed and fingers lingering at his navel, they were rough around the edges from working them on his projects.

The steam from the water did nothing to relax one particular muscle and though he wanted to plunge right for where desire struck men, Anthony took his time getting to know the long lines of Loki's body as his lips and tongue worshiped his skin.

He had never seen his master with another and he had no asked Bruce how Loki laid with his appetites so ubtil Anthony knew his role, he did not make an aggressive nor a passive move.

Loki had enjoyed the bodies of many over his life. Usually slaves, though occasionally he had taken a fellow Asgardian to his furs, but he was not as widely experienced as his brother who often had people vying to be chosen to be taken to his furs. He was far more private about his conquests, but no less voracious in his appetites when the opportunity presented itself.

It was well that Anthony waited for Loki to show his appetites, for he had never been passive when it came to bed sport. He preferred to take charge and could be quite rough with those he chose to take. Though he allowed Anthony to kiss and touch at his skin, his own hands delved straight between his slave's legs to touch his growing erection and stroke along its length.

His head bowed to rest at the curve of Anthony's neck, smelling the unique scent on his skin, before he bit down hard enough to leave a mark.

Though some slaves relished pain, Anthony had never thought of himself as one of them. They never lasted too long at the village anyway. As soon as it was marked that they enjoyed a rougher ride in the furs by the guardians, they were often snatched up by warriors who needed such slaves to follow them on compaigns or by the palace who would then conscript them to service warriors without the means to keep a slave themselves.

There was no denying that Anthony's erection twitched when Loki marked him, however, but perhaps that was due mostly to the way it made him feel to be finally owned, to be owned by someone of great stature, and to know he would be cared for and cultivated than the physical pain of it. He did offer s little gasp, however; and he let his head fall back submissively to expose his throat for more marks in kind.

His hips moved freely in the water and he pumped himself against Loki's palm. Hopefully his master wouldn't be offended by his enthusiasm.

Hardly offended by enthusiasm for his ministrations, for what man of any species did not want to be made to feel as though they were an expert in the means of pleasuring a partner, Loki pulled Anthony easily up onto his lap. His strength was that of something far more than a mortal, and to manipulate Anthony's body was the work of nothing at all.

His hands slipped back to cup Anthony's buttocks as he ground up and against him, eyes dark with lust until suddenly they sparked an intense green and Anthony would feel phantom hands stroking all over his body, slicking over sensitive areas from his head to his toes.

Magic was a useful thing.

Magic was a wonderful thing. Anthony had been taught to never expect pleasure and he had no real frame of reference for sorcery. The healing hall at the village staffed a few novices but healing magic was far different from the sort Loki was capable of using. It was incredible.

Anthony could just hold on for the ride as Loki moved him, or caused a sensation in him that caused him to move. It was not hardly unusual for Anthony to lose himself in what he was doing but he had done well to always ensure that he was paying attention to Loki at all times.

Now, however, he was finding that the be impossible. At least, that was until he felt Loki enter him for the first time. It was like the phallus all over again at first, hard and unyielding.

But oh. Oh, Loki knew how to use it.

Loki had enjoyed a few responsive partners, but he had nver had anything quite like Anthony, the man gasped and moaned as though he were an untested maiden. It spurred Loki to greatr efforts when he was not recoiled from as he used magic, too many of his partners feared and distrusted the arts and, other than Amora or Sigyn, would not dream of allowing him to use it in bed sport. Magic, however, was a part of him in the same way his hands or his skin were parts of him, and to be denied its use always felt like being trapped. Anthony may be a slave, but he accepted and even embraced these parts of Loki and he always preferred when his partners in bed would leave satisfied enough to tell others that he could tumble in the furs as well as any other.

After he finally reached his climax buried deep inside Anthony, he relaxed back in the hot water and let the steam wash away the final tension in his body. He felt his lips curl up like a cat with the cream, well satisfied with his slave so far. And, in being satisfied, inclined to be generous with it.

"Today the week of your learning has expired, and I am well pleased with you, I plan to keep you. You may ask of me a gift to celebrate this new agreement and, if it is an agreeable request, I shall grant it."

With the coupling finished, Anthony was aware of the statutes and limits were of the time he was allowed to recover. He had come hard, just after Loki, perhaps triggered by his master, and there was a mess floating on the surface of the water. Duty told him to skim the top and climb out of the water so that Loki could finish his bath, but he allowed himself perhaps two moments too long to feel the start of Loki's erection softening within him. It was comfortable that it should happen with those words of promise. Anthony didn't really think that fate would be so cruel as to send him back to the village twice, but the comfort was there to know it would not be done.

"Uh, well," Anthony said, using the conversation as motivation to clean up and allow his master to bathe, leaving the bath to dry up the areas around the tub and lay out a towel for Loki, "I would like to get something from the Free Markets when you allow me to travel there with you." That had been reward from several days before for a job well done.

He crouched to pick his clothing up.

"You've provided the tools but I'd like materials. I don't know what exactly. I don't know everything that could be out there. But some metal would be appreciated. I've been thinking of a way to make it easier for you to communicate with me should we ever been too distant for me to hear your voice naturally-- I saw someone on Vanaheim use a hand held communicator like on the chariots."

He did not know if his slave were truly intelligent and inventive enough to create things beyond irrigation systems and toys, but he was certainly willing to let him try. It would be a real boon to his status as well if he had a particularly clever slave, though he would then have to fend off offers to buy his property.

"Very well, that is a reasonable request. We shall visit the Free Markets tomorrow, when the celebrations are done, and you may have five gold coins to spend as you will."

He would let Anthony choose his materials, he should be able to get a fair amount for that if he retained sense during bargaining. Loki could likely get a lower price simply because of his status, but he wished to see what Anthony would choose to buy and how he fared at dealing with the often clever and manipulative vendors in the marketplace.

"Make sure you wear a clean tunic for the feast this evening."

Five gold coins was almost too much for Anthony to wrap his mind around. He had no idea how much he was worth either, he had never asked nor had known his price. He would have to ask Bruce about the worth of materials. He wanted to make his money extend as much as possible now that it was his. Who knew when he would get back again?

Brushing his own tunic clean, Anthony prepared himself and then his master for the feast. On the other side of the princely wing, however, Thor was doing no such thing. He sat in repose with James instead, not speaking about anything in particular. The Warriors Three had told him off about heading to the Great Hall. The Lady Sif was still on campaign and might not make it back for his feast at all.

Even Loki had departed.

"Do you have insight on the festivities? Will there be a brawl?" Thor was honing his weapons himself as they sat in the courtyard under the sun. The rest of the slaves were off busy with the party as well. All save for Steven, whom he had yet to place. And honestly, he'd forgotten at the moment.

James loved his life. He had been in service to the prince since he had been almost a baby, he had grown up learning how best to please him, and now they were as close to friends as a slave and master could be. He would never forget that instead of leaving him for dead after he had charged the enemy to save his master, as was his duty, that Thor had personally carried him all the way back to Asgard and had the healers give him the best dwarven steel arm they could manufacture. It was his pride and joy, it's why all his uniforms were now only made with one sleeve, to show off the shining metal.

He reclined next to his master, idly sharpening one of his own knives as well.

"Of course there will be a brawl, and likely demonstrations of blade and hammer as well. I saw sixteen boar carried into the kitchen yesterday afternoon, and twenty casks of Alfheim mead. Loki will probably start a flyting contest at some point as well."

It would be a good day, but not one marked with any intense celebration, it was not a monumental birth year.

"Have you thought of where to place Steven, Thor? I was impressed, he's rough in technique but there's promise there. If you don't have a special place for him, I'd like to have him as a guard and warrior."

Truthfully, Thor hadn't thought much at all about Steven, fine specimen as he was, fine fighter that he was, Thor had trouble seeing any slave beyond James. His others were strong and beautiful, quick and quiet at their duties, but he barely thought of them either save when he found the need to have a toss in the middle of the night and did not feel like sending James off to fetch one of his other partners. And even that was rare. He spent much of his time in sporting pursuits and there was not much time to seek the comfort of another's touch.

And he had James. He'd bonded to his slave early in life, as many children do with their first personal slave, but Thor tended to be too passionate and too blind to reality. Luckily, James knew his place and Odin did not need to remove him from his son's service prior to the end of the span of apples.

And really, a shame it was that Midgardians had such a limited ability with them. They always stopped working eventually and nature would eventually reclaim them.

Luckily, James had several hundred years left before he needed to worry about a successor.

Thor gave his favoured a glance and then laughed. "Am I so much work that you need a personal slave yourself?" It was just a tease. "You maybe have him, of course. You will train him as you have all of the elite slave guard if that is your wish. He is rough indeed but you will shape him well."

James was what all people wanted from their personal slaves. Loyal, fierce, strong, intelligent, but always knowing his place and never overstepping the mark. He knew his own worth but he didn't inflate it, and his devotion to Thor was absolute. He chuckled when Thor jested about giving him his own personal slave, returning the knife he had been sharpening to a loop at his belt.

"Thank you, it will take time to see if he has what it takes, but I believe he could be something special. Maybe even a worthy successor to me when my time comes."

He knew that Thor didn't like to think of the mortality of people that he loved, and he had never lost a slave before, so it would perhaps come as a shock the first time. Like a child losing their first pet.

"Now come, you cannot keep everyone waiting today, they won't be able to start the celebrations without you and you're wasting the day with a slave instead of your family. Let me get your formal dress and get you ready."

James said it too often of late. He made remarks about his mortality every few months as if trying to prepare him. Thor disliked it enough that he reached out and gripped the metal arm. James was strong but Thor's very nature was strength and the slave had no hope of fighting him. Not that James ever would. From his spot across the courtyard, seated in the slave quarters he would share with all of Thor's slaves save James, Steven watched Thor pull the Midgardian back into his arms and nuzzle the back of his neck.

"Enough of that. I will travel to Valhalla myself to bring you back to my service if you are foolish enough to leave it. And I will be greatly unhappy with you then."

He did not let James go, pressing himself forward instead.

"Have Steven prepare my garb and allow me a little more time to waste with my slave."

It felt good to be loved so much, to be so appreciated by his master, and James let himself be manhandled into Thor's arms pliantly. But he did not drop the subject, even though he had been told to. It hadn't been a particularly vehement order, and James knew that Odin would want him to nip this sort of denial in the bud if he could.

"When my time comes, and if I am fortunate enough to die a warrior's death and enter Valhalla, then I will wait there until I can serve you again in the future. But you will find another slave and live on, my prince."

He raised his flesh arm, since his metal one was preoccupied now, and gestured towards where he knew Steven was watching.

"Steven, fetch Thor's feastday clothing and lay it out in his chambers ready for him. Now."

"Enough talking." Thor did not shy from the truth, and death need not be forever nor something incapable of being enjoyed nor inglorious. Thor would just miss his slave. But that was nothing to think of now either. And James was considerate about his inappropriate comment too. Thor knew he was a bit too chivalrous towards his slave and that he needed to be much more careful with his words--

And he would. Next time.

As the tall blond, his brother's gift, came across the courtyard to head through the spiral hall to the bedroom, Thor released James and they both followed the young slave upstairs only for James to find himself on his stomach a moment later, weapons belt still in place, trousers still on, while Thor rutted up against him. His weight was superiority great on the smaller Midgardian but he kept much of it on his knees and his elbow as he reached around James' waist to shove a hand down those trousers. It was how children rutted, clothing on in case they were caught doing something they shouldn't, though Thor had ever right to use James as he saw fit. It was also how warriors might enjoy an afternoon while waiting for battle, ready to fight at the sound of a horn.

Thor just liked the initial tussle. He liked the roughness. And he liked it when James was pleasured. His slave was loud. It struck more than one chord in Thor.

And loud he was.

James, like all of those before him, had been trained to make sure that he could fulfil any of his master's wishes. But he had never found a tumble in the furs to be an arduous duty, his pleasure sounding out loudly enough for all to hear from even the rooms across the halls. He was not so submissive a lover, there was no need for him to be when his master could manhandle him with the ease of a babe, rutting back against him and struggling to try and turn around to rip clothes away and pleasure Thor in return.

Ultimately, though, he existed for Thor's pleasure, whether that was rutting until he reached his completion, or something else. He would never deny his prince anything, heart full of pride and love even as he collapsed back, satiated and spent.

"That-- my prince, is truly not getting ready for your feast," he teased, grin on his face.

"And ready I should be getting. What a lazy slave you are to rest in repose instead of preparing me!" Thor sported a hefty erection as he left James to recline upon his furs. He would need his energy for the feast and would not spend himself until he was in his cups. Perhaps that would be with Sif or his Warriors. Perhaps with James. Thor might be a great strategist but he did not plan his own pleasure.

He gestured for Steven, who had laid out his clothing and was currently waiting patiently for further instruction, to bring the bathing bowl. Thor would leave the bathing proper for later. He had barely worked up a sweat anyway.

"You will train exclusively with James," Thor told his newest slave as he sponged him off and dried him after. "He is already training Samuel and you will join him. Other than what I require of you, you are James'."

Steven might not understand that particular honour yet, but Bruce had eluded to it. James was the third most important slave in Asgard after Odin's and Frigga's personal slaves. And perhaps he held as much sway as they did.

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appointments look like they might run right up towards game time stupid delays ):

Alas!!! Have a fun night at least!

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