fossilised | I come from a land of ice and snow

That response was idiotic and painful. Thor was genuinely taken aback and he blinked at Steven for a moment, trying to decide the proper course of action. To approach Steven, to touch him, or to dismiss him outright? To give him what he wanted? No. Thor stood his ground, his hands free of skin he had come to love the feel of and the servant that had never been anything other than utterly perfect.

“It is my desire to be able to see you. Daily, if possible.” It would hurt. It would be a testament to his strength to be able to resist, right? And maybe, once he had managed to do so long enough, he could take Steven back. “I will not lose you to the field or to battle that I do not lead. Do not request this of me.”

He finally did touch Steven’s cheek. How could one slave make his resolve falter so easily?

“I would give you anything, my Steven. And that is the heart of the problem. Do you not see it when all others do?”

He didn't see it, but he was no fool. Having it spelled out for him that way made his mouth fall open in genuine shock. He had never considered his master gaining feelings for him, for he had never considered it a possibility that an Aesir might love a slave beyond the station he had been granted.

"I am being dismissed because you--" He couldn't even bring himself to say it, shaking his head in defiance. "Do not do this. If I serve you well and you are happy with that service, then do not send me away. You can abstain from using me for bed sport, you can appoint another your personal slave, but do not dismiss me entirely."

It didn't seem fair.

But then, much of life was unfair. Especially when Anthony doted over his master and was clearly doted on in return, why were they not seen as equally unacceptable?

“I must distance you from this and I must distance myself from you.” Thor hated every moment of this, hand moving to Steven’s neck, thumbs pressing up under his jawline to force the blond to lift his tearing eyes upward. He could feel how hurt he was, and wondered if that was Steven’s hurt, his own, or a combination of the two. Maybe they amplified each other. Maybe this was all just a phase that he would come to be able to withstand.

Thor lowered his forehead to Steven’s. If anyone saw them now, that would be the end. This was entirely too intimate for the two to share.

“Can you not simply accept my wishes? Must you argue now when you have never done so before? When this feeling passes, I will request your return to my service. Until then, I can not have it. It would undermine the throne. Go and find my brother. Request that he come to me or if he is reposing, return here and fetch me. Do this now while I still have the strength to allow you to go from me.”

Steven's eyes as they met his master's were truly heartbroken. Never one to be able to hide his emotions, now they were writ so clear that he might as well have shouted to all of Asgard how much he hurt. To be sent away from his master no matter the reason, no matter the lack of disgrace, may well kill him.

But he said not a word.

He only leaned into the touch for a second and then pulled away with a ragged inhale, the quiet sound of a man breaking. He turned, back straight, and walked out of the rooms that had come to be home to him. Away from the master that he adored. His voice was monotone and his motions jerky as he bowed to Prince Loki and bid him to attend the temporary All-Father.

Curious as to the obvious distress of the slave, Loki did indeed leave his chambers at once in search of his brother.

Normally, Anthony would have pulled himself out of bed and scampered off after Loki, but today, the look on Steven’s face caused him to hang back. He dressed and let himself get feeling back in his legs from the exhausting evening he’d had before he stopped just short of the taller Midgardian. “You look like you’re about to throw up. Do you want to sit?”

Anthony wasn’t good at this. He wasn’t good at all trying to be sympathetic, but Steven did his best when he was at his lowest and so he wanted to return the favor as best he could. He lightly touched one bracered forearm and tugged at him to sit on the sette at the bottom of Loki’s bed while Loki found himself having to duck or throw a shield up at the mess of the room that Thor was making.

Very few pieces of furniture were left undamaged. Loki wasn’t the only one with a destructive temper.

Seeing his brother, though, left Thor dismissing Mjolnir to sit down on what had once been a chair, heavy, defeated. “You must take on Steven. I can not give him to another.”

Steven did not want to sit and speak with Anthony, his heart too sore to explain what had happened. And, like his friend before him, he did not want to disgrace his prince by explaining. He would have to lie and say he had been dismissed for other reasons, he would have to bear the disgrace that came from it. But for now he would be silent, only waving off Anthony's concerns and murmuring about needing to visit the palace tailor.

He needed clothes in green and black.

Loki did not need to ask why, he may only have been back a few days but he had seen all he needed to in order to reach the same conclusions as the Warriors Three and Lady Sif. Though he had not seen a problem in it, only in Thor's inability to hide it properly from those around him. Now it had come to a head this way.

"He will not work well for me, nor will I be a good master to him. He does not have loyalty to me, he does not have the intelligence I need of a slave. What you are asking is that I keep him so that you may use and see him."

“Aye,” Thor agreed. “verily.” There was nothing he could ever hide from his brother, and if Loki hardly had to make an effort to see his heart, than Thor knew he had no way to be untrue. He was a terrible liar anyway, even in farce, and he did not care to use anything but truth when facing the world. “He can not stay in my service if I am to continue with my desire.” He knew the moment it left his mouth that he should have never given Loki the chance to know verbally how right he had been with his guess. “I can not send him to anyone else. I care not if he works for you. You need do nothing more than give him a space.”

But as he spoke, he knew it would not work for long. Stealing away in the middle of the night to see Steven would just fuel the fire being thrown about in court under breaths. Odin had only been awake for a few days, but it was likely he knew already.

Thor pressed a large hand to his face.

“I know of other options. He could return to train the unclaimed. He could be gifted to one of our brothers on Vanaheim. I could send him to Midgard in advance of a raiding party… But I do not wish for any of them. I love him, Loki. I am cursed for it, but I do.”

Love was a dangerous thing, it was a knife that could cut just as easily the wielder as it could the intended recipient. For Thor to think himself in love with his Midgardian, it was a truly shocking thing. He did not know whether to believe it true, for this could be the result of grief for James, who he truly did believe he loved.

"Should I keep him, you may not visit him to take to your furs. You are the All-Father, Thor, and will be again one day, this must not ruin you and take Asgard with it. You are strong enough to conquer yourself for duty."

He did not always believe Thor would be suitable for the throne, in many ways he was not, but he could not stand aside and let his brother topple Asgard. For if their crown prince loved a slave, the scandal and shame of it would rock them all, undermine the very foundation of all they had built.

"I will keep him, but if I believe you are not exorcising this passion, I will have him sent away. Should you learn to control yourself, you may take him back."

Thor nodded. Nothing Loki said was unwise and his anger was inward, not outward. Having this hang over his head would not kill him and he would not let a slave allow him to cause ruin to the kingdom. At least he and Loki both agreed to that, no matter how hurt Thor felt himself to be.

"I do not want this infliction, brother. I do not want to be tied to a mortal in any way. It would dissolve who I am and who I am forced to become and I can not-- But Steven is innocent in all of this. I believe I have already harmed him enough by sending him from my sight. He is like family to your slave, is he not? He will find happiness serving you."

But Thor knew that would only be true after a long while. Midgardians were fickle, or so he thought. They imprinted easily on their masters and loved them, but they could imprint again and love another if need be. Aesir, Vanir and those like them, however? Their feelings lasted eternities.

And this was a new feeling. Easily put aside.

"I ask that if you choose to dismiss him, you will give him an easy life," Thor insisted. "The fault is mine, Loki. Is that understood?" Only Thor could be so noble.

Idiotic Thor. Stupidly loyal, generous, noble Thor. Loki would never be so selfless if this had been his dilemma. He would have weighed what meant more to him, Asgard or his slave, and then pursued that without caring what happened to the other. To leave Steven in reach of Thor, in sight of him, was a recipe for disaster.

"I will take Steven and Anthony to Midgard. You may sanction me, as All-Father, to begin a new raid. It will take him from your presence, from temptation, and we will diversify the stock at the same time."

Perhaps the few months that such a campaign would last would be what they needed. Loki to distance himself from the disaster in Jotunheim and prove himself on Asgard once more, and Thor to forget Steven and find other pursuits to occupy his time.

Taken aback, Thor frowned. "You would go without me?" But the reasoning was sound. Loki needed a win and Thor needed to be out of sight of Steven for at least a generation of Midgardian natural life. A raid upon Midgard and the initial training of impliable slaves would take forty years or so. Steven would grow away from him and be a different man than he who had left. Thor would be able to have him again, bed him again if he wanted, and enjoy him without feeling this crushing need for him. There would be others in the meantime. They would both forget--

He held u a hand before Loki could argue or offer counsel.

"No. You are correct. You will take Fandral and the Lady Sif as your captains along with their armies. That will leave the bulk of our forces upon Asgard if needed and Heimdall can recall all of you should we need more warriors for any reason. Bring back the best Midgard has to offer, my brother. I shall speak with the Great Council and begin preparations. I will expect the raiding ship to be ready by tomorrow evening. I know it is not much time to gather what is needed but.... I shall miss you while you are gone. But I will have sport of my own to tell you tales of when you return."

In this moment, Thor made a decision worthy of rule and Loki looked on him with more approval than he had before. He crossed to the broken table and bent to collect a silver tray from the splintered ruins, a sheen of green light enveloped it for a few seconds before he handed it over to his brother, using his other hand to cup the back of Thor's neck affectionately.

"You may use this to speak with me even between realms. I will enchant a mirror of my own, and you may speak with me so that neither of our hearts grow too sore with another separation so soon after reuniting."

Though, of course, it went without saying that he would not allow Thor to speak to Steven.

"Now I must prepare, you have given me little enough time to do it."

"I know you have done much more with far less time in some of your schemes," Thor said, clutching the tray so that it nearly bent in his grasp. He embraced his brother fully then before he stepped away and watched Loki go. Thor waited for nearly an hour before he called his slaves back to him to clean up the mess and named Samuel temporary personal slave until he could travel to the unclaimed village and choose another, younger, moldable Midgardian to take over. There was no talk of Steven. No questions asked or gossip to be had. Thor adored his slaves, appreciated them, and the meal he had prepared for them for when their labours were over proved as much.

When Loki returned, he would find Anthony waiting for him, questioning the way that no other slave would dare. "I've sent him off to get some rubes and tunics made in your colors," he said, arms crossed over Loki's symbol on his chest. He tilted his head ever so slightly. Loki always seemed to like it when he looked up at him through his eyelashes like that. "I've pretty much put two and two together, but Steven's not saying a word and I'm not going to insult you, my prince, by saying anything out loud. I just... I kind of think we don't really need him, though."

There was Anthony's jealousy peeking out again.

"Maybe he could teach me to defend myself or fight a little better but...." Anthony frowned. "I want to be enough for you. Tell me how I can make it so that I am." He loved Steven....but he loved Loki far more.

"Do not act the fool, it doesn't become you."

Loki's words were chiding, though not harsh. He understood Anthony's jealousy for he had it in himself for many things also, but he knew that his property possessed far more intelligence than to think that he would have taken on Steven because Anthony did not fulfil everything that Loki needed.

"I have taken him as obligation to my brother on a loan only, for we shall be travelling to Midgard upon the morrow to raid for new stock, and Thor cannot accompany us while sitting as All-Father. He wishes for me to take Steven as my own until we return for he fusses ridiculously over my safety."

A lie that would save face for both Thor and Steven, and which would give the moping slave hope that he would return to his true master one day. Loki needed him to have that hope, even if it proved false, or getting anything approaching actual work out of him would be near impossible.

"He will be mine in name alone, fear not that any comes to supplant your place."

Anthony had known all of this, and he could even tell that Loki was lying because he himself had seen many, many couplings between Steven and Thor while Loki was away and he had seen many, many kisses passed between the two. He knew that Thor was in love with Steven the same way Steven loved Thor...and the same way too that Anthony loved Loki. But Loki had never kissed him, never drank his lips in, and so Anthony did need that verbal assurance that Steven was just to act as bodyguard and be returned to Thor.

One day.

"He's just a better catch than I am," Anthony said, arms moving to his side. "I mean, if you like dumb meatheads with too many ideals and no capacity for mischief." Anthony grinned and bent to kiss the hem of Loki's tunic in thanks and in apology before he stepped back and set his hands on his hips. "I've never gotten to boss him around before. So a trip to Midgard? Really? Should I pack the usual or is this an extended stay, enchanted trunk and all of your books sort of visit?"

He could be excited now that he knew his place with Loki was secure. Serving his Prince was all he needed in this life.

Loki did not need to kiss Anthony to understand the depth of his own feeling. He would be lost without his slave, but he was far too selfish, self aware, and intelligent to jeopardise all he had for the sake of an illicit romance. Anthony would understand and feel his worth in other ways, becoming the most trusted and constant of Loki's companions without ever overstepping the mark into unacceptable territory.

It was a balance that Thor failed to maintain.

"We shall need enough for an extended campaign, six months to a year. Weapons, armour, clothing, and books. Run now to the kitchens and have them prepare the salted meats and enchanted casks for fresh food, then find Steven and any other running slaves without current task. Send some to the shipyard to have the fleet readied, others to the generals of the armies. We sail in the morning, this night will be a busy one. Go, Anthony. Run."

When your master told you to run, you ran. Asgard was filled with new activity and the whispers were off of Thor All-Father and onto the idea of the new. It would be some time before any of the new blood was ready for ownership and the unclaimed Village would have to be expanded to hold the vast majority of the culled. Sorcerers would need to be prepared to find good genetic matches between existing slaves and new slaves. Compliance and beauty would be bred into the new stock and in sixty or seventy years, a century at most, the status quo would resume. There were many Advisors who spent the evening at the shipyard and roaming the courtyards recounting the tale of the first culling they took part in. The atmosphere around the kingdom, despite Odin's and Frigga's absence, was jovial.

Come the following evening, Thor made himself known in full armour, shining like the sun though it had long since hidden. Heimdall had arrived to gift Loki with the ability to guide their ship and those chosen for the task were already on board and looking out at those that would bid them a safe and successful journey.

Loki and his two slaves were joined by a regal looking crowned Prince, whose eyes did not stay to Steven, stood just behind the shorter Anthony.

"Bring me home someone strong and beautiful," Thor said, hand clasping Loki's forearm. "And someone clever for yourself." The Aesir on board hit their weapons against their shields and called their captain and commander onto the deck so that they could shove off. Only when Thor was away enough that his gaze might not be registered did he finally gaze upon his heartbroken lover.

And, selfishly, he hoped that Steven looked upon him too. Fondly. And without hate. He wished for understanding.

As the ship broke free from the ground, Thor lifted his hand. All of Asgard cheered that night with him and all would wait for Loki's return as well, already guessing the sorts of wonders that will be brought to them when next they saw the ship.

Steven could not hate his master... former master.

He had gone through the night as if in a dream, performing his duties swiftly and obediently but without passion. He wore Loki's colours and they startled him each time he passed a reflective surface, the green making his skin crawl. It was not the younger prince's fault; Steven did not hate Loki, he was even fond of him partially because of how much his master loved his brother. But he was not Thor, and that made him an undesirable master.

He watched his prince fade away as the boat began to sail into the Void, even the amazing sight of the branches of Yggdrasil laid out before him not garnering much more than a passing glance.

Anthony stood in pride of place at Loki's right shoulder as he commanded the fleet away from Asgard, his battle regalia shining and perfect. He glanced down, words soft. "Take Steven and advise him of his future, he must not look so sorrowful or talk will begin. My slave for long or not, I will not have it said that my property despises working for me."

Hand over his heart, Anthony bowed and glanced back at Steven. It took a moment to get his attention since he was still watching the little ball of darkness fade from them. He ended up having to tug at the familiar tunic. The black with green trim was one he often wore in summers or lazy days with Loki inside the library. He knew that Steven longed to feel the red, feel the burnished gold, against his skin.

And perhaps he would again. If Loki didn't harm him for moping around. "With me."

Below deck, Loki had sprawling chambers for a vessel of this size, three rooms strung together. His things were not yet unpacked and so Anthony used this as pretense for a discussion with his oldest friend.

"The tale Loki is telling is that Thor gifted you to him for this mission. It is evidently not unheard of. Oft times he would gift Loki James whenever Thor felt he was in need of protection. Our Master," he paused then because he did not like the word 'our' to describe Loki, "will return you to Prince Thor if his brother proves he can withstand temptation. This is temporary. Stop looking so heart sick. The crew already talks about the Prince's.... Uh. There's no other way to describe it, Steven. They think the crowned prince has an illness. His fixation on you might cost him everything. So this is just a little trip to keep that from happening. Stop being so charming and likable. You can learn a little something from me. No one likes me at the palace. Except you. Which is your problem again, see?"

He didn't include Bruce for a reason. He was still hurt by the rejection, even if it had simply been words.

"Besides. I've been reading up on how these raids go. You're going to have a lot of reaponsibility with initial breeding. You're beautiful and strong and Loki will likely name you to the task. So cheer up and shape up and you'll be back to wearing reds in a few years."

Even though Steven would likely never be loyal to Loki properly, except as the beloved brother of his true master, he could not help a twinge of grateful respect for the lie told. It was convincing and, best of all, it turned what could have been great shame for Thor and himself into honour and nobility, into self sacrifice in the name of protecting someone dear to the crown prince.

He knew, of course, that he was here to stop Thor pining for him. And he knew that this was how it had to be, he wanted to serve his master and he didn't want to ruin things, and so he would bear this. He would take this on as though this had been the task actually given to him, standing up straighter.

"I will protect Prince Loki to my last breath, then. He will not come to harm under my guard and watch."

Steven didn't think about how this might usurp a little of Anthony's position or make him jealous. Personal slave he might be, but Anthony wasn't the warrior of the pair of them, surely he would see that protection rights should go to Steven.

"I will sire as many new babes as he wants me to, and I will return to my master with honour."

Treasonous talk, especially as Loki was his master now. To say otherwise was such an insult.

The pair of them were idiots. Anthony stared at Steven as if he had grown two heads and one was mustached and shouting obscenities in a long dead language. Since he could, and since he was angry at Steven for the liberties he was taking and the disrespect he was showing to Prince Loki, Anthony grabbed hold of Steven’s tunic and hauled him down. “Listen to me carefully here or you’re going to find yourself abandoned on Midgard no matter how many pretty blond and blue eyed babies you produce for Asgard. Loki is your master. Loki is the one you will devote yourself entirely to. Anything he wishes, you’re going to do. You’re going to learn to anticipate everything he wants…. You’re going to be perfect or you’ll dishonor him. I can’t have that, do you understand me?”

He refrained from boxing the blond’s ears, though he really wanted to.

“And I’m the Prince’s primary. I know you’ve gotten used to ruling your little clan and I know Thor’s shown you favor that’s gotten him in more trouble than he ought to be in right now, and you and I both know that we love each other intensely, Steven, but I come first. Understand? I come first and you take direction only from me.”

He was nipping this traitorous talk in the bud. Now.

The last thing that Steven expected was for Anthony to try to go toe-to-toe with him physically, not when they both knew that he was by far the better warrior of the pair of them. Instinct almost had him tossing Anthony off, but affection held him still and made him listen to what his friend had to say.

He half bristled in return, because he would never be Loki's, not truly. He was Prince Thor's in his heart and he always would be, even if he were forced to wear another's colours and call another master verbally. He scowled up at Anthony.

"I know that you come first, and I'll take direction from you, but surely even you can see that I'm a better choice of bodyguard than you."

Perhaps his time with Thor had given him just a touch of arrogance.

“What do I care if you go marching off into battle? You just have to watch yourself, Steven. What how you speak and what how you treat our Master. Prince Thor is our Master’s brother and current All-Father…and that is all. Are you following me? Loki will and must always come first. And if you can’t at least figure out how to pretend that you love him, there’s going to be a huge problem here.” Anthony had no interest in battle. He liked souping up the aerial chariots and he liked designing weaponry, but he wasn’t much of a user of the technology he came up with. It was all for Loki’s glory anyway.

He didn’t want to go prematurely to Valhalla. Those few nights with the bandits where he surely thought he would die in disgrace left him clinging ever more tightly to life. Steven’s prowess didn’t affect him…mostly because he knew that Loki did not need a bodyguard. He was formidable, especially now that he possessed the casket.

Anthony had seen what he had been able to do and he didn’t fear for him in the slightest.

“Take a vow of silence if you need it, Steven. Because the next time you say that Thor is your master, I’ll have your lips sewn shut.” Anthony gave him a little shove, which didn’t do much, and then pointed at the chests. “All of Prince Loki’s books are in order. They’re to go on the shelves in the same order they’re laid out in the trunk. Don’t open any of them. He hates fingerprints on the pages.”

The very strange thing here was that he believed every word that Anthony said, and yet he knew his friend still loved him dearly. He would sew up his lips and still want to stand by his side all at once, and all because of Loki. He would need to be careful - not because he was scared of the threat, but because he didn't want to bring more dishonour down on Thor by not behaving as a proper slave should.

"Odin's ravens, Anthony," he murmured, immediately heading over to open up the first chest and see the stacks of books inside the carefully enchanted interior. This would take hours!

He took out the first ones and carefully put them onto the low shelves running around the cabin, each with a small lip to keep anything on them from falling off should the ship begin to rock.

"So tell me what I need to know about serving our master."

As discussing Loki was by far one of Anthony’s favorite pastimes, he found himself absolutely falling into his long-term discussion of what Loki did not like. He figured that would give Steven a good base for how to deal with Thor’s brother. It was not going to be easy, since Steven was used to a lot of personal freedom in public…and though Anthony had a lot of personal freedom in private, he wasn’t sure how that would work now that there would be an audience.

As they put things away, Anthony’s words became less heartfelt, less frequent. It could simply be that he was running out of Don’ts for Steve, but it was just as likely that he was starting to worry again about how his life with change now that Steven was in it. The blond always found a way to garner the most favor and sure, Loki liked the clever and the cunning….but he also liked being worshiped.

And Steven would be better at that.

Anthony left the main chamber and found the single room where he and Steven would sleep. It was a matchbox, two pairs of bunks sunken into the wall on either side of the door. “Reminds me a little of the village,” Anthony said as he fingered the fine fabric curtain that could be drawn across the coffin-like space where he would sleep. It was their only privacy. He chose the lower bunk on the right hand side, sitting on the fine mattress with his head ducked so he wouldn’t hit his head. He couldn’t straighten up on the sleep shelf so Steven would feel even more claustrophobic, surely.

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