fossilised | I come from a land of ice and snow

Steve was still adjusting to being awake in a whole new century, the war behind him and everyone he knew was either dead or extremely old. It was a strange new place, that was for damn sure, and he didn't know whether to trust Nick Fury or the strange people he had assembled. But that didn't matter right now, trust could come after, right now the world was under threat and he was here to help out.

He frowned when the newcomer just strode onto the bridge and began talking loudly and insistently, shaking a bemused Bruce's hand who also murmured that the pleasure was all his before going back to his calculations.

"Tony Stark, right?"

He looked a little like Howard, and he definitely had Howard's way of talking, like he was full of enough energy for three people.

"I'm Steve Rogers, and thank you for getting that video capture for us of the alien invaders. I think they must be using some kind of cloaking software, they might have found footage of us both and are trying to mimic us to fit in."

Steve Rogers. Tony wasn’t impressed. He looked the blond up and down, sizing him up as surely his dad had done way back when before his old man decided to get himself in the family way and slipped his hands into his pockets. He only shook hands with people who were awesome. So far, he hadn’t seen enough of Steve to decide if he was awesome. That sword wielding version was pretty cool, though. He wondered absently if Steve could really jump that high.

“I might say that you’re right,” Tony said, leaning back on his heels slightly, “but why did they pull video data of me from a few years ago?” More like a few decades but he didn’t have to give up his age entirely. Didn’t matter if it was public record. “I haven’t been that baby faced or whisker free in some time.”

“And Stark is always on the news or in the media,” Widow spoke up, turning in her chair to watch the boys discuss their big mission. None of this was really helping her get her friend back, though. There was no sign of him on any of those ships. And that crazy, emaciated man that came through the portal? He wasn’t in the footage either. “We need to handle this as a coincidence. We need to find Loki.”

Thor nodded, standing as well. He’d nearly had him in Germany before he disappeared, yanked through another portal like SHIELD’s footage showed. It was about that same time that Barton and Selvig had also disappeared. “I will discover their meaning. The design is vaguely Asgardian.”

The redhead frowned. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“You have little trust,” Thor shot back. “This is not my doing.”

Tony winced a little. “You have to admit…you show up in Germany and a few hours later, Viking Longships show up? That’s pretty weird.”

"I'll go with him."

Steve didn't like the way that everyone was already at each other's throats, it made him long for the Howling Commandos and Bucky, the way that they always had each other's backs and worked as a unit. It felt like this team wanted to get at a fight, and the whole mission was as fragile as a house of cards.

"We can watch out for each other, and two sets of eyes are better than one."

And maybe it would help Widow relax to have someone from the Earth team batting on this one. She really didn't seem to trust anyone. He glanced over at Dr. Banner who looked so unassuming and even slightly timid.

"Dr. Banner, Tony, you should both stay here and keep analysing the footage that we have so far."

“Right, send the guy that doesn’t fly,” Tony said with an eyeroll before he motioned with his head for Banner to follow him. He couldn’t be too mad. Working with Bruce was a little like a dream come true. It wasn’t every day you got to meet a reclusive genius scientist after all.

That left Steve to get a lift from Thor, and that was not as comfortable as a jet might be, but it still got the job done. Thor landed with enough force that would have ruined the deck of any Midgardian ship, but it took the shock of his weight and velocity without any issue. Thor stood, setting Rogers down right in the middle of a group of very startled, and some very familiar, looking faces. All of them immediately took a knee and Thor frowned.

“What is this? Who is your commander?!"

One or two of them glanced at each other in mild confusion, why would they be asked that question? It had been Thor himself who gave command of this fleet, and all of them were too startled to see what should be obvious. This Thor was older, at least by a little, not their current All-Father at all.

None needed to answer, for Loki felt the hum of Mjolnir's magic and appeared on deck as Thor finished speaking. He saw what the others did not, a wary frown appearing at his brow as he strode forward.

"Well met, Thor. It seems we have slipped far on Yggdrasil's branches indeed, you are not who I expected to find on this raid."

As an aside, which no one but perhaps Steven heard if he didn’t immediately stride out to try to defend his new prince against his old, Anthony couldn’t help but whisper: “This is an amazing day. I take back any disappointment I expressed,” he hummed, blinking at a less shinily attired Steven with hair that was parted to the side and fell to just above his ears lifted a shield. Two Stevens, he thought to himself. This one obviously was still Thor’s. That might be a problem…

But it wasn’t for him to say. He just stood where he was, one elbow on the banister, and watched the crazy goings on…right until Thor lifted his hammer towards his brother. That sent Anthony running, regardless.

“I should have known this would be your doing. Midgard is under my protection. I know not the enchantment you have over our warriors, but you will cease this need to conquer and return home with me at once! We thought you dead, Loki. Stop this immediately.”

Loki knew that he had felt something out of the ordinary as they neared Midgard, it seemed they had somehow fallen through a rip between the different realities of Yggdrasil and emerged on the wrong branch. A different version of their reality, apparently one where Thor saw him as an antagonist. Interesting.

He raised an eyebrow, but he made no move to draw a weapon of his own yet.

"Do not act the fool, I am not the Loki that you believe me to be. I see the differences in you so plainly that you may as well not even share the face of my brother, do you not see the differences yourself, or has Mjolnir blinded you to truth in favour of violence as ever?"

He held up a hand to stop Anthony from interfering too soon, though the new Steven saw him and looked contemplative and surprised.

"We have come by mistake, a rip in the Void."

Thor had been through too much in these last years. He measured time in years by the handful but in the last five, he’d been granted the throne, stripped of house and name, made mortal, regained his footing and his legacy, fallen in love and lost his brother. That wasn’t even to speak of the destruction of the Bifrost, or Jotunheim-- Thor shifted in his stance, still wary, but ignoring at all others.

“I find it difficult to trust you when you have admitted to coming here to raid that which I protect. You bring war and destruction to all you touch. Midgard has never offered you harm, brother. Whom are you working for? Whom sent you here?” Thor made a few wary steps forward, voice lowered. “If you are in trouble, we will find a way to help you,” he said, eyes glued to Loki’s. He’d never finished mourning for his loss, even stuck upon Asgard as he was trying to fix some of the damage he caused.

The hand not holding Mjolnir was left stretched out and flat.

Placating. Anthony didn’t trust it, standing just at his master’s right with Steven gripping the large sword to his own right, eyes trained on both Thor and himself. He looked so lost, his old friend. Especially seeing a mirror of what might have been with his other self at Thor’s right.

Thor just looked mostly sad. And lonely. This might not be his true brother, it might be a trick. But he wanted to help just the same.

There was that word again, protection. It was ludicrous, for all the realms on the branches of Yggdrasil were under Asgard's protection, even those which it detested and saw as enemies were still under their eventual protection, why did Thor need to clarify it so often?

"I am in no trouble, you still think me to be the Loki that I have already told you that I am not."

He already did not care for this Thor or this reality. Why would Thor speak of raids in so disparaging a way, as if his Asgard did not go out to test their might and mettle as they should? Why did he see his own brother as an enemy, enough to stand between him and Midgard?

"We seek only our own Midgard to replenish our breeding stock, we seek no war."

One could not have war with mortals, that was ludicrous. War implied that the other side posed some kind of threat.

"Anthony, Steven, fetch chairs and food, we shall clearly be speaking of this longer than anticipated. Clear the deck, these talks are for Thor and I alone."

Several of those words left Steve Rogers feeling very unwell. He watched his other self and the much younger Stark leave to do as they were told and the others, those looking more like Loki and Thor, left the bridge as well. But him? He stayed. There was all sorts of buzzing going on in his earpiece just before it muted, which made Steve nervous too. He touched his helmet at the ear to see if he could shake the sound loose, but no. They were just working on one way transmissions now.

Evidently they weren’t buying Thor’s little show.

Anthony and Steven returned with two chairs, each finer than the last, and the blond put two and two together. He wasn’t being considered an equal here. This replenish the stock… That was going to be a big issue.

“Thor, I don’t think it’s a good idea to have a talk here,” he said, turning to the larger man still beside him.

Thor seemed torn. “Agreed,” he said, finally. “You should let these people go, Loki, all of them, and return from whence you came. Do not test me in this.”

Steve could have done without the male posturing. In his experience, it just made people even more hot headed. “Your….slaves…can stay here with us. People can’t be property,” he added. And maybe he shouldn’t have. There was shock on his mirrored face.

Loki laughed even as he saw the shock spread on the faces of Steven and Anthony. This was a truly ludicrous reality that he had found himself in, and he was almost tempted to investigate it properly rather than find a way back to his Midgard to replenish stock as he had been sent to do.

"Tell me, Steven, what other purpose do you believe Midgardians have? Look at your world, your people, they are as short-lived and weak as mayflies. I can see the stench of pollution on your world, I can see the bleaching of your plants, I can feel the lack of balance in seidr."

He turned to look at Anthony, eyebrows raised.

"Do you wish to remain here in freedom, Anthony? Should you want to walk away from me into this 'better life' of freedom that you have been offered, I shall not stop you."

Better to nip in the bud now that the slaves were slaves against their will. The first generations may struggle, but only because they knew no better.

It was a test, it was in name only, but Anthony almost panicked. “Don’t send me away.” It was not just because this was the only life he knew, but because he loved his life. Perhaps if Loki asked one of the kitchen fodder, or those that toiled all day in large gangs on a field for a massive farm or a mine, there might be a different response (and Loki surely knew this), but he had asked one that loved him, that appreciated what he had, and who was loyal.

And Rogers saw that anxious look on Stark’s face and scowled. “He’s afraid to say anything else,” he offered as the reason why Stark would not only look that way, but say what he had. It wasn’t a no. It was something more and that was what really stuck with him. “Freedom might be hard, it certainly doesn’t guarantee a better life, but you get to pick where that life goes.” He was still an idealist. And considering how he was raised, and the poverty he lived through, that he was still so positive spoke volumes. “And I think anyone that tasted freedom would understand that. I’m sure where youre from, not everyone is treated the same either. You might be more technologically advanced than we are, but we have a bigger heart and we will defend ourselves…and the people you keep in chains. We can’t let you hurt anyone.”

Though he was about to speak up without being permitted, Anthony found he had no choice. “You’re wrong. You have no idea what you’re talking about. My life has more meaning now than before my prince claimed me. Maybe you should see what it’s like.” A steely gaze lifted to Loki. “Midgard is Midgard. It doesn’t matter what branch we dip from, does it? I want to get home. And these people need your help as surely as the one we were headed to.”

Oh, how tempted he was.

This whole branch of Yggdrasil felt wrong to him, and surely it would to Anthony too who would have picked up a small sense of seidr from his time with Loki. It was out of balance, a place where Asgard did not understand their true sovereignty and all of the other realms suffered for it. Midgardians who truly believed themselves better as free were sad. Even those who toiled in the kitchens understood that this was their place as mandated by the universe.

But he should go to his Midgard. This one was protected by Thor and, possibly, by his Asgard as well. Though it was a sorry affair if he stood in defence of the freedom of mortals. No, his duty was to help here, and then return with news of this rotten branch that should be pruned from the Tree.

"Go to my cabin, Anthony, and find the mirror on my stand. Take it to the warriors and instruct them to look upon it and see the truth."

He felt most would not fight against even an alternate Thor, not unless they could see that their All-Father still gave his blessing to this raid. Which Thor surely would.

"Thor, you must leave my ship. I wish you no ill, for you are blood of my brother, but I am here on authority of the All-Father and will not be spurned."

Anthony did not want to leave the bridge. Steven could protect Loki, but that didn’t mean that he wanted to leave. He didn’t like the face on that impostor. He felt like the other Steven was about to do something drastic. But he still did as he was told. He had Fandral and Sif and the other leaders watch the mirror as Thor All-Father listened to the bizarre tale that Anthony told, asked if he was being tricked, and then said immediately that this Midgard needed their help. How could they let the Realm languish? It was their duty to set it right. He then requested to have Anthony bring the mirror up to the bridge so he could see himself face to face.

Anthony once more did as directed and arrived at the deck with the mirror in his arms help outward. Thor All-Father looked at himself, at his Steven in his shining golden armour, and the other Steven…who looked scrappy and ready to fight. That interested him greatly. “I wish to hear, from my own lips, the state of Midgard.”

Thor Odinson trashed his cloak angrily. “This is my Realm to protect. You must leave. Midgard is a free Realm and none shall harm it!”

“We wish the same things,” Thor All-Father said with a deep and grave voice. He ought to have been there for this… Loki could handle himself but he felt cheated just the same. “Commander Loki. You have my permission and the backing of all warriors in your command to help this Midgard as you see fit.” He was pretty sure that Loki understood that he meant for him to carry out conquest and capture. He could not look weak in front of another version of himself, surely. “And when you are home again, there will be a feast in honour of your righteous and kind service to the people of this poor Realm that you have been delivered to. Fill the pens.”

"Thor!" The darkly dressed Steven almost roared and the Thor beside him lifted his hammer to call forth a storm.

A smile lit Loki's face and for once there was no hesitation as he placed a hand to his heart in obedience. This was chaos being allowed to run loose, but in a direction that would benefit them all. Ignoring the storm called by this foolish and obviously weaker version of Thor, Loki turned and made the Casket appear in his arms, voice calling loudly to his troops.

"Fill the pens!"

He was unafraid to show his blue skin now. Asgard had come to be told, but they understood that his lineage was Aesir, much as Thor's lineage was Aesir despite his Valkyrie blood. He had been raised their prince, and his power was harnessed for Asgard, they would accept the defects of his birth.

Ice shot out in all directions in deadly spears, mostly aiming toward the Thor that stood upon their deck. He would not be taken, he was Aesir even if a bastardised one, he must be slaughtered. He would see to that and allow his slaves, his warriors, to pour over the sides of his fleet and attack.

The ship's dipped sharply, stopping perhaps two stories above the ground so that warriors of every race could jump over the side and land just behind the native people of this planet who had been watching but now scurried away. Some would make it. Some would be a catch and release. Some would die if they resisted too much. The rest would be brought to the ship where they would be sorted and their fares finally sealed. Those that were the most lucky, the children, would likely find placement and grow up loving their masters. In a way, both Anthony and Steven envied these children. There was no set of people luckier than they and being so pure of stock, they would be cherished and loved in return.

On the bridge of the main ship, however, there was chaos. Thor brought down lightning, which Rogers was able to deflect, and though it was directed towards Loki, Steven was there to protect him. The sword he carried was no common steel and it reflected back much of the energy and grounded the rest. Rogers found himself falling with a ringing in his ears only to jump back up again. It left time for Loki to complete his blast and given how shocked Thor looked, the cold hit him directly in the chest. The Aesir growled a scream, fingers balled into fists, and used his strength to break the ice from his armor.

"Back up," Rogers was yelling, to who knew who, and though Anthony wasn't much of r a fighter, he was just as strong as Captain America thanks to his special breakfast and threw a heavy chair at the shielded man, watching it break on his back.

"Anthony!" Loki called, deliberately using the tongue of Xandar which many others had not bothered to learn. But he loved languages and found that Anthony did also, his quick mind enjoying the challenge. "The technology of this world. Disrupt it, kill it, strip it, and take whatever you wish for examination. Go now!"

He did not believe that little rolling chariots with weapons, or things like that flying armour could ever bring them any trouble. He could see already that the Midgardians were falling like a field of wheat before the scythe. A confirmation that the Aesir way was the best way. But they needed to systematically destroy this world, for it was rotten, and the destruction of their technology played into that.

Loki himself focused on Thor, drawing ever more energy from the Casket to fuel his magic, his strength. He attacked viciously, relying on Steven for vanguard support in this endeavour. Thor was strong, of course, even if he was a bastardised version of the Crown Prince, and Loki would feel some small satisfaction to be able to say that he had bested Thor in combat at least once.

Though Anthony did not wish to leave Loki’s side, he knew that it was important to get below deck to nullify the technology of this tiny, backwards, and plainly wrong world. The Asgardian technology he had at his beck and call was nothing like this Realm had ever seen but he had learned to use it on many worlds where Loki had let his mind expand beyond plumbing and little metal birds. He manipulated the runes and crystals with expert precision and though the Midgardians had flying weapons, one by one in a radius extending from the center ship, they fell.

And that included the flying metal armor and the pilot that was supposed to be hard at work with Bruce Banner on analysis but couldn’t help but get worked up once the hellicarrier started to fall from the sky. Without knowing the contents of that suit, Anthony spoke to the nearest warriors to the fallen object and requested that they bring back that treasure in Loki’s name. It was an easy acquisition.

And so too was Steven’s double, once Thor finally fell. The dwarven forged blade in Steven’s hand was the only sort of metal that could pierce the prince’s skin and though it hurt him terribly to do it, when he saw an opening caused by Loki’s relentless onslaught, he took it. The blow would not be the defeat of Thor Odinson, however. That honor would be Loki’s once Thor was brought to his knees, stunned and mouth agape as he gazed up at his brother.

A part of Loki did not wish to deal the death blow. Despite their many differences, his Thor remained one of the most important people in his life, and loved dearly. But he knew that this was no Thor that should be countenanced to live, this Thor saw weakness and did not seek to protect it in the right way, did not seek to correct it. Killing him now was a mercy, it would send him to Valhalla. He knew that his brother would not have hesitated to kill another Loki should the situations be different.

A dagger of dwarven steel was used to slice through his throat to make the death quick and as painless, as honourable, as possible. He would allow him the full dignified nature of an Aesir death, even if he did not deserve one for his actions in life. He had warriors wrap the body, which he would sail when the time came.

Midgard was falling easily, surely this was confirmation to all the slaves they held that theirs was the right way. Steven's other self was below decks, a man caught with bow and arrows had been taken, a red-headed woman who fought like an Amazon, and yet there was no sign of another Anthony. He did not know that even now he was trapped and immobile inside the suit that had been taken by his Anthony.

It was almost pathetic how fast Midgard fell, barely a day and he could already recline, their hulls bursting with new stock to return.

Despite Thor’s relatively simple fall and the speed in which the pens were filled, sorted of the weak and impaired, and filled again with more suitable candidates, Midgard had one more ace up her sleeve. With Anthony on the surface with Bruce, walking through pens of adults looking for those that might be worth taking with them, word of a green monster using vehicles as weapons reached Loki and Steven up on the bridge of the main deck. Steven was quiet. Sword still in hand and face somewhat bloodied, he intercepted the news from the messenger and brought it to Loki personally.

“My Prince, it seems as if we have woken a Midgardian demon in our efforts. We have finished with the Eastern hemisphere culling and have left the cities to lay in fallow but just beneath us, something is raging. Only one warrior caught sight of the demon and lived enough to send word of it before he too perished. I would like to confront this demon and lay him to rest,” Steven requested. “With your permission and blessing.”

Down below, there was a roar. Anthony looked up just in time to see a hulking green being charging down the corridor of buildings to where he and Bruce were standing between rows of caged Midgardians. “I’ve seen a lot of things,” Anthony said, blinking, “but that’s—“

He was not slow, but that said, he wasn’t as well versed in dodging as some. One piece of domed glass and metal with four wheels throws in his direction was enough to make his incessant chatter stop for the moment as he was sandwiched between the street and the object that demon had thrown at him.

If Steven had ever doubted that love between Loki and Anthony, just because it was not seen often, he might have that doubt smashed now. As soon as Loki saw that Anthony had become trapped by the beast, sandwiched between metal and concrete, he surged forwards with a strength and ferocity that outstripped all his previous actions. He created illusions to distract the beast as he teleported his Anthony away, safe to the deck of the flagship of his fleet.

Only then did he return to battle, alongside Steven who was already bleeding and hurting, to battle the creature. Yet nothing they did seemed to harm it. This demon was stronger than a Fire Giant, more resilient than a bilgesnipe.

"To the ships!"

Loki made a decision, this beast would be better hunted with a dedicated party, one which Thor himself would lead when he no longer sat the throne. Their role was to raid, to gather stock, and they had achieved that admirably.

"Let this creature rip apart what remains of Midgard, it is a gift to our All-Father for when he may hunt again."

Later, once Steven had time to come down from his battle high and blood lust, he would come to realize how precious Anthony was to Loki. And later still, he’d be privileged to see Loki nursing Anthony back to health again in private. It would do much to bolster his faith in how he might one day be Thor All-Father’s again, and how he could learn to temper them both. For now, however, he saw to the Midgardian warriors that he had been sent to command, counting the dead, the wounded, and giving a speech about how great their rewards would be for the services done for their betters.

The retreat was even considered a good omen, for the creature was unique in the universe, they felt, and their All-Father, once he was an Odinson again, ought to be allowed the glory of fighting it. Even Sif, who was not at all a fan of Loki’s, came to him on the bridge of the main ship to take the knee and offer him praise and her sword in all future endeavors. He had proven himself a staunch leader and with the Casket, a powerful foe. She and all aboard were honored to have Loki lead their first culling to this strange Realm and she would sing his praises in tales at feasts for centuries to come.

Little that might do for Loki at the moment, however, with Bruce below deck caring for Anthony. He was stable for the moment, but even stability could slip away. Midgardians were not like the Aesir and though bolstered by Idun’s apples, they were not at all resilient.

All totally, Fandral said to Loki’s left as they took their ships far enough upwards that the creature could not leap upon them, they had culled twenty thousand good specimens. “Will we be headed to the training grounds?” The little moon was well known for it’s singular use….breaking and train and breeding those captured. It would be time to rest for the year or so it might take, but Loki would have to give the order.

This was Loki's moment of glory and he felt it keenly. To have even Sif publicly take a knee before him was beyond what he could have hoped for, and yet he could not find the true gladness to take in this moment for his Anthony could slip from him. He was not Thor, who had replaced James with Steven and would no doubt do the same once Steven slipped from him, Loki's slave was unique and irreplaceable.

"Moor the fleet within the opening to the Void, there are changes to be made."

This was the moment where he cemented many loyalties, proving himself capable of compassion and wisdom. Though few would ever suspect that his orders were born only from the selfish need to make certain that Anthony lived.

"Transfer all those who have been injured in this culling to my ship, and all those to be trained to the others. We shall show our property, and those who fight in even the meanest positions, that their worth to us does not go unnoticed. I will take them back to Asgard proper for healing, you may take the rest to the training grounds. I, and perhaps my brother, shall join you before long."

Fandral bowed in acknowledgement of the order.

"Lady Sif shall have command in my absence."

There were many who had been injured. Most were their own slaves, but some Aesir warriors had taken hurt. He mostly wanted to get Anthony to the healing halls and command that they save him, for their magic would do far more than what Bruce could manage.

When Anthony woke up, it would be to the brilliant lights of the Healing Hall and he would wince and turn to push his face back into his pillow. Did Valhalla have to be so bright? He expected it to be loud, but lit only by fire as warriors celebrated and feasted in perpetual evening. Instead, here he was, being blinded. That seemed unfair. Was this Hel, then? He’d been killed in battle, he was sure of it, so why wasn’t he worthy of being sent to Valhalla to await Loki?

That was unfair.

He was about to complain when he realized he was not alone. Loki did not sit directly at his bedside, for that would give too much away, but he instead was speaking with one of the injured warriors who had pledged their allegiance and sword to him now that she had recovered, something she would not have been able to if Loki had not sent the injured back to Asgard.

“My prince…?” Anthony hadn’t meant to call out, but he wanted to see the other from more than just the back. “My prince…are you all right…? Did we complete the mission…?”

Though Thor had offered the feast in Loki's honour, for he had surely earned it, Loki had asked for it to be delayed until all who had participated had returned from the training grounds. Again, a request that seemed wise and kind, but was truthfully selfish for he wanted more people there to sing his praises and remember that the time had come where Loki had taken his glory.

Hearing Anthony's voice made him wish to spin and hurry over, but he did not. He finished accepting the warrior's pledge before he turned and walked over, a man to his slave, nothing more. Though the smile at his lips was fond.

"We have completed the most successful raid in many long years, our praises have been sung in the feasting halls already. You must hurry and heal, for there is much to do and we are both in high demand."

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