fossilised | I come from a land of ice and snow

Loki rose at once and strode over to clasp his brother by the forearms and then pull him into a tight embrace. He had missed Thor also, and he had received word by the mirror that both of his parents were proud of what he had accomplished, it had put him in a rare fine mood that all had been benefitting from.

"I had thought never to see you again, you have been so long on the throne. Tell me, do you feel changed for it?"

He knew that Thor was not ready yet and that he did not relish his time spent ruling, it was too much tedious negotiation and duty, and not enough fighting or pleasure. But it would be good for him to learn that all of these things - from campaigning a great war, to the irrigation of the outer farms - were important to running a kingdom successfully.

"The slaves are already doing well at training the young children, and the breeding has been a great success. We hope to send the first crop back to Asgard within the next few months, the villages will need to be ready to be bursting at the seams."

“The grain fields have been charmed to grow more quickly and the storehouses are already filling when last I left. I approved reopening both of the unclaimed villages to the West and to the South to handle any that are not immediately claimed by the chiefs not on the campaign,” Thor said, holding his brother tightly in his sheer joy to be but a prince again. He did not relish the thought of being All-Father for many more centuries. His back to back stints in position was enough of a deterrent for awhile. Now, he wanted to live large and happily while he could.

Samuel was with him, as were the twins that saw to his meals and the three fanned out to take their places. The women prepared a plate and Samuel came to stand, tall and dark skinned, beside Anthony. Anthony did his best to remain unbristled. It was Steven’s place but Steven had been given to Loki. And Samuel had likely never thought himself promoted to such a high position in Thor’s stables. Still, he was amiable enough. All of those Thor possessed were. His smile was lovely and his eyes genial, but Anthony didn’t like him on general principal.

“After I dine as your guest, my brother, I would like to see the special Midgardians you’ve penned in person and tour the rest of the grounds. I have dreamed of the day we would spend our year here. I know you wish news from home, but indulge me. I require rest from discussions of Asgard and wish instead to see your plunder!”

Loki had been considering how best to handle this when Thor arrived. His brother was not so pragmatic as he, and if he saw James then he would surely want to claim him immediately. Yet hiding the mortal from him would be near impossible, especially when the rumours of a slave with James' face had spread far beyond merely Bruce and his few helpers.

"I would happily show you, but there is something we must discuss first."

He gestured for all of the others to leave, bar Samuel and Anthony who could stay as the personal slaves of each of them, waiting until Sif and Fandral had moved completely out of earshot before he spoke again.

"You have heard, of course, that these mortals look similar to some of the slaves we already hold dear. You know that I have sent your weaker and rotten counterpart to Valhalla, but what you do not know is that one of the slaves looks like your James. He is not, he is scarcely human any longer, his mind has been fractured by the cruelty of the Midgardians he has existed with for these years. I do not want you to see him and be shocked, or feel hope that James has returned from Valhalla."

Any joviality that Thor had with him was marred immediately by the news. He’d been hoping to see and converse with the alternate Steven and while he had heard whispers of strange duplicates of many of their most beloved Midgardians, he had not quite heard about James. Thor was understandably rocked, though only Loki and Anthony could see it. Samuel had been with Thor longer than Steven but he had never been too close. His duty before his promotion had been to prepare the tack and keep the horses and the supplies for battle always at the ready. His life had been easy but also distant from the Prince and he did not know what the look in his eyes meant that had Anthony frowning as the pair cleaned up from the halted feast.

“Is he too damaged for even the healers?”

A dangerous question. Thor had grown in many ways since he had taken the throne but his personal feelings simply could not be exercised. Not with Loki and Loki alone.

“Can there be nothing done?” James had been utterly important to him and having never given him a woman to continue his line, Thor thought him lost forever. "I would lay claim to him as is my right regardless of his ability to be rehabilitated from the monsterous Midgard he was found in, Loki," Thor all be growled. "If for nothing more than his sons and daughters." His slaves, Wanda and Pietra, were very fertile and beautiful. They could house this false James' seed if there was no other way.

"The healers have been to see him, but scarring on his psyche is akin to that of the most battle damaged warriors."

Though battle fatigue was a rare thing in the culture of Asgard, it happened sometimes and usually among warriors who had been captured and tortured by the enemy, or those who had seen so many campaigns that they were no longer able to exist outside of the blood and death of battle. A sad thing whenever it happened, and usually solved by either keeping the warrior in seclusion with the healers, or sending him into a futile battle so that he may find his way to Valhalla and the rest he deserved.

"I have told Bruce that he may continue to try and piece together his mind for this first year and, if no progress should be made, then it would be kinder to let his soul rest in Hel."

He reached out and placed a hand on Thor's forearm.

"But I will not forbid you from using him to continue his line, if a way to breed him safely is found."

A year was not a long time and though Midgardians were more fragile than other species, Thor was aware of the effects of blood rages and of life lived perpetually in battle. “I will send him to Hel myself if Valhalla will not take his tortured soul,” Thor promised because he was a reasonable man who understood that death was a reward and the place of death a further reward to that. He was quiet for a moment before he set an arm around Loki’s shoulders. “But perhaps that can wait until the morning. I will let our father’s prized servant do the work he was destined for. Tell me, will you be extending the line of your Anthony as well? He would make beautiful children.”

Short, but beautiful children. Thor was mostly just being kind here. He would not have picked Anthony, not even for his loyalty or cleverness, because he did not fit the ideal image he held in his mind, as Steven did.

Pausing in his duty, Anthony wrinkled his nose in secret. The idea did not appeal to him, personally, but he would not deny Loki. He thought he would have more time before any of that needed to be discussed. Many centuries at least. He had no desire at all to lay with a woman. Even if the meas he would be given to increase potency would also remove his inhibition, he would rather lay only with Loki. His Master had been kind to him in that respect. He never offered him out and if he took any other to his furs, Anthony was never a witness.

Perhaps that was not by design and Loki just enjoyed bedsport with others in their beds instead of his, though.

And Anthony was pretty sure that the conversation was less about breeding him anyway and more a tactic to hear of Steven.

Loki had not decided yet if he wished to breed Anthony.

He knew that his slave would not last for his entire life, even a Midgardian extended by apples still lived many millennia less than their Aesir masters, and he had already become accustomed to having a personal slave. But he was extremely picky, he would need that same intelligence and spark of chaos to be satisfied, that same blend of loyalty, obedience, and familiarity that knew when to be professional and when to be affectionate. He did not know if any breeding could produce such a perfect replica.

"Should I decide to breed Anthony, I will test the idea by breeding his double and seeing how well the genes run true in his progeny."

He shrugged, before moving on to what Thor clearly wished to hear of.

"Steven has bred with many of the most beautiful and strongest of the women, and he has already managed to achieve pregnancy with four, I am certain he will have dozens of progeny before the year is out. Do you wish them to be marked?"

Some slave children, if they came from particularly good stock, were marked at birth with a small brand or tattoo so that the slave village could keep extra detailed records on them and pass those along to see if any of the breeding had run true.

"Aye, they ought to be. Their mothers might come from inferior stock but we will test the first born. Should that child be free of defect or with a defect easily remedied then all of his progeny should bear a mark. I will discuss it with him." Probably not a good idea but it was customary for a prized slave to be in the loop when it came to designing their marks.

Even Anthony had the small tattoo on the bottom of his left foot, the only offspring of one of Odin's most cherished slaves: a spoked circle, not unlike a wheel.

Not unlike that glowing mark on his double's chest either, but Anthony did not think about it. He had been given up to the village as a child and he had no real knowledge of his father and mother save from what little Bruce told him.

"Where is he? Celebrating in his cups-- Accompany me." Thor knew better than to go it alone with Steven.

It seemed that Thor had become slightly wiser when it came to his former slave. Loki rose and gestured for Anthony to go now and fetch himself an evening meal, he would not require serving for a few hours as he spent the time with his brother. His voice lowered as they walked, words for Thor's ears alone.

"I believe he has learned much while in my service, you may be able to reclaim him without lost honour if you have care to your behaviour."

It had only been during the raids that Steven's attitudes had seemed to change, perhaps he had noted some small interaction between himself and Anthony, something that would have told him how they could maintain their bond with none ever suggesting anything untoward between them.

"He is not truly mine, nor do I wish him to be."

"As a gift from you, he is precious to me," Thor said for even if he was alone with Loki, he had learned in these weeks that if he was to be allowed to have his wishes, they needed to be contained within the parameters of the throne. And being the crowned prince caused those parameters to be smaller still. As free as Thor was, he was more bound than even a slave. These tastes of kingship had done him well.

Along the way, they stopped to greet friends that had been gone from him for months and he and Loki stayed awhile to listen to stories leisurely as the Aesir warriors mopped and cleaned the central fire. This was good for the young warriors, allowing honored slaves to be treated like royalty as they replenished their stock. It was good to show humility too and the Warriors found these odd tasks to be more fun than a chore. Even scrubbing clothing could be a game.

Thor placed his bet that Steven's first born would be a boy with Fandral and then strode down to the recovery building where the slaves that had been hard at work breeding were relaxing with their meals and laughing the same way their masters had been. All immediately rose to their feet when Thor and Loki walked in, however.

Thor laughed. "Sit! Eat! Enjoy your exploits. Your work is difficult. Father and birth many healthy children. It is my blessing upon you all!"

A great cheer went up from the slaves at that benediction, many of them finding themselves wet around the eyes from such an honour. Most had never even been in the presence of the crown prince before, to have his personal blessing on their coupling was something they would tell all their peers when they returned to Asgard and it would surely be a good omen for all the births to come.

Steven was one of the ones on his feet, eyes fixed to Thor with a devotion that had not faded in the months apart, but he kept himself proper as he bowed with hand over his heart. He had learned from Anthony and from Loki, who had been a better master to him than he might have imagined.

"Steven, I gift you to my brother, I trust you will serve him well."

Steven's head snapped up, mouth slightly open.

He did not want to call his master a liar, but could it truly be? Would he be taken back by his prince's side? His heart had ached for that each day they had been apart, but he did not think it would come so soon.

"I have heard many tales, Steven. Upon Midgard, you performed the duties assigned to you in protecting Commander Loki with you life. You defeated the corrupted double of myself and have comported yourself with enviable and unmatched skill. Though I had gifted you to my brother for the entirety of this campaign to serve as his personal bodyguard, your service is no longer needed and I dare say that Samuel will be pleased to no longer have to tend to me so rigorously."

The slaves gathered laughed and raised their cups to Steven, their leader and their friend. He was well loved with the men and women gathered here. It did them well to see their leader once more raised to his proper station.

"But should the need for Loki to go once more into a battle I can not follow him to, you will serve once again as his bodyguard. For that reason, you will train Samuel properly when we return to Asgard. You are a free man, however, upon this moon until our year is complete and I will leave you to your merry making and enjoyment." Thor turned before pausing, as if forgetting something. His face was still a stoic, unreadable mask but his eyes were bright with a happy joy. "One thing more. From hence forth, all of your offspring will bear your mark as sire from this moment through one hundred generations. All will know the honour of their father. Now carry on."

Loki needed to get him out of there or he would command Steven to his tent...even if such a thing was impossible here. Only slaves not taking part in the breeding could be so used.

Steven's eyes nearly flowed over with how happy he was, straight backed and proud. He would have generations of his line that all bore a mark to prove where they came from, he would be remembered as a slave who had done an outstanding duty, and what more could he ever ask for? He put his hand to his heart and took a knee, addressing first his prince and then his former master.

"Prince Thor, I pledge that I will serve you to my all, for every day left to me, and then I hope for nothing more than to serve you in Valhalla. Prince Loki, I thank you for allowing me to serve you, and know that I will always protect you even if I have not been ordered to do so."

Loki might not be his prince, but he had definitely earned some loyalty and affection for how he had treated this and the lessons learned through observation.

Though Loki was happy to gift Steven away once more, he laid a hand on Thor's shoulder in silent warning not to go too far. "We have tarried among the breeders for too long, they have earned their rest and food, let us away and find food for ourselves. We have much left to catch up on."

With a baseline on Steven and his unborn children, on their mothers and their pedigree, it was only natural for Bruce to begin testing on Steve Rogers first. It was early in the morning, but Asgardians rarely slept, nor did those they fed their apples to, so Bruce’s arrival with his book and pen was fairly normal for the three kept in the cage. They had watched the others around them be ferried out little by little, never really being told where they were going, and while there were several more groups who had not yet been called out, Thor had decided that that he could truly wait no longer to see the double of his favourite.

So under the pretense, thin as it was, of watching Bruce conduct his experiments, Thor followed his father’s honored into the pens and towered over him as the Aesir guards came to drag Steve out of his cot.

Clint stirred as well, impossible not to when Steve kicked him accidentally in the head, and cursed up a storm before he realized what was happening. “Hey! Where are you taking him?!”

Thor smirked. “He is to be honoured with a mate.”

It hurt to see Thor, he'd been there when his friend had died to the knife of this other Loki, and to see a facsimile of him was painful. Especially because he still had the same earnest eyes and friendly smile, but he knew those things were twisted here. It took a few seconds for the words to actually sink in, the shock of seeing Thor muting them, but when they did he began to struggle.

"No! I won't be doing that, if you even try to put me in that sort of situation, you won't like the outcome."

He would throw himself on the grenade before he forced a woman like that, regardless of if she had been drugged to make her believe she wanted it.

"Get the-- get off me!!"

Thor’s laugh was mighty, enough to rumble the bars, and all of the commotion roused Tony before Clint could kick him in the ribs to wake him up. Steve’s yelling scared the older man. He had gotten to know the blond very well in their captivity and he had never known him to act like this. Even when Bruce came in to take some measurements or some scans, he’d never made these wounded animal sounds, he’d never been so desperate.

“What a fighter! That much has not changed,” Thor chuckled and followed the guards, still easily carrying Steve down the cage lined corridor. Bruce was left to close the doors, but both Tony and Clint were already attempting to rush it.

They wouldn’t get very far. If Steve was strong, Bruce was stronger.

Tony blinked rapidly at the hit to his nose, ears boxed by Bruce’s swift movements, and clung to the bars to stay upright. “Bruce—“ But he never answered. Tony had run the gamut of pleading and bargaining, but this brain washed man thought he was really helping them out.

Thor may laugh, and Steve may not be strong enough to escape from the hold of those who dragged him from the cell, but he wouldn't do what they wanted him to do. He had a strength of character that couldn't be broken and, even if they tried to drug him, he would make the ultimate sacrifice if he had to. There was no way in hell he would ever take part in this debauched and disgusting rape.

As Steve was being dragged down the corridor, suddenly the man in the next cage moved. Usually still when Loki wasn't in front of him, and certainly never listening to the endless weeks of Steve talking to him, now all of a sudden he was in motion.

He slammed into the bars and began to try and bend them again. Reinforced, yes, but his arm was vibranium, stronger than nearly every other material in the known universe. He didn't know why the distress of Rogers irritated him, distressed him, but it did.

Though he had done his very best not to look at the cage where James' ruined double was, the sound of him reacting to the distress call did have Thor stopping. He turned to look over his shoulder. He'd been briefed on James' condition. He'd been told about the way that Steven had been trying to break him out of his personal Hel for weeks now to no avail. And though Bruce had not yet started to work on him, with everything else that needed to be done, he had little hope that he could fix him. And Thor accepted that too, though the year was still young.

This, however, was remarkable.

"It seems they are linked," Thor said, moving back to look at his beloved James in the face, seeing only coldness there. "What has you upset?"

He wasn't sure if James would answer and he didn't care if he did. He might be dangerous, he might have killed or hurt Aesir, but there was little that could be done to hurt Thor.

"Would you like to come with us?" He would bring James himself. Perhaps seeing Steven be given glory through the chance to procreate would allow James to snap out of this daze.

"Buck! Bucky!" Steve's voice was cracked with hope and desperation, calling out to the man that he knew in his heart was still his best friend. He didn't know what had happened to him, how he got the arm or why he didn't remember, or even how he had survived this long, but... god, he didn't care, all that mattered was that he was here. And now, for the first time, he was actually reacting to something involving Steve.

The Soldier stared coldly into the blue eyes of one of his captors, before literally wrenching the reinforced bar from his cage and tossing it to the side so that he could stalk after Steve.

He didn't make a move to attack yet, just followed.

But if and when they tried to make him drink or eat anything, or when they presented him with a woman, the Soldier would act. He'd kill any potential mate, he'd kill any Aesir who threatened Steve. In his mixed up mind, he had decided that Steve must have been an old handler, and that Bucky had been his designation for a mission, but he had been wiped since. That must be why he felt a lingering need to protect.

Thor was pleased at how willingly James listened. He felt his heart soar. Even if James wasn't smiling, he still knew how to take orders. And that meant that he could be and would be saved. With a glad heart, Thor brought up the rear and watched from the back of the room as Steven was prepared. He liked the look on the blond's face, the hardness of it, how ready for battle he was.

The Aesir left the room once Steven was strapped down and Bruce started to prepare him. In the next room there was already a woman who had been prepared and her voice carrying through the thin walls.

No one would be prepared, however, for James' first attack, and directly aimed at Bruce. Thor was a little too surprised to do anything at the moment but Bruce could thankfully handle himself.

And Thor could handle Bruce once the berserking started.

Bruce might be able to handle the Soldier, but not with ease, and both had injuries when Thor finally subdued and calmed his father's old favourite once more. Those in charge of the breeding programs suggested that perhaps these two were not viable candidates for breeding.

Strength was a wonderful thing, after all, but both had personality issues. Who knew if James' madness would run to future generations? And Steven was so stubborn that he had half bitten through his tongue before the Soldier had even attacked. It seemed foolish to lose two Midgardians this way when there were so many others that had been viable breeding alternatives.

"We have Steven's seed," one of them said to Thor. "The true seed, we do not need to dilute it this way with the other. And James---"

Well, he was broken. Obviously.

There was a great silence from Thor, all encompassing and brooding. This felt like a loss of James all over again but he could not bring himself to send James to Hel. He could not bring himself to send Steven’s counterpart with him. He was weak in that regard. So he was silent and left in his tent, refusing to even see Loki for the moment, and Steven and James were returned to their cells.

Tony stood at the bars, shouting, when he saw Steve Rogers being half pushed and half dragged towards their cage. “Hey, hey, what happened?!” Steve was back a little too….quickly. Especially if they had expected him to play along with their program. That worried Tony. That fact that Steve’s head was down, bowed, and his feet were barely moving? That was scary.

No one said a word as Steve was tossed back into the cell, and Tony, still standing there with his broken nose, was yanked out. He wasn’t allowed to walk, he was too short for the Aesir guards, and so he snarked at the two men as he carried him back the way Steve had come, passed the Soldier who was unconscious, and into the darkness.

That left Clint to tend to Steve. He had already been tended for his tongue but that didn’t mean he was awake and so the archer stood pathetic guard over the man who had been his leader for all of ten minutes in a fight to the capture.

Anthony would be taken to the same room and they would attempt to dose him with the mixture intended for all breeding slaves. Even those who willingly went to lie with whoever they wished them to breed with, needed the mixture to increase their potency and stamina, not just their libido.

If they managed to dose him, he would be presented with a line of four women to copulate with, all of who would eagerly embrace him with a desperation that came solely from all they had been drugged with.

Steve spat blood as he came to, immediately trying to roll up to all fours, tongue feeling clumsy in his mouth even if it had been healed before he had been dragged back here. "Buck--? Bucky?!"

"Yeah man, your friend is back. They put in a new door and everything. Nice and cushy." Bucky was unconscious and put in chains but he had at least been returned. Alive. Probably. Clint wasn't in position to check on him right now. It ever.

Dude was insane.

"I'm not gonna ask what happened, Cap, but if you strong silent types have any iota of thought about chatting, I'm here, okay? Or you can just go whine at Bucky," Clint said, the last line under his breath as he rolled his eyes.

He didn't want to know about Stark yet. He hoped that he was brought back all drugged up too or with his tongue all funny. Because the alternative--

Man. This place was messed up.

Clint was about to move when there was a jostle from the next cage. Bucky was already coming too. Jesus. He was tough.

It was unlikely that Stark would be returned that way. He didn't have a bodyguard like Steve had, and he would be far less able to fight what they did to him. No serum, no nothing. Poor bastard.

For just a moment as he came around, the Soldier had an image of the blond haired man in a brown uniform with shining silver buttons. He was smiling in the memory, his arm on the Soldier's shoulder. But the memory, or dream, or whatever it was-- it faded and disappeared like smoke on the wind as he came round properly.

He was up and on his feet in only a couple of seconds later, prowling the bars before he turned to look at Steve and check him over impassively for injuries.

"I remember you," he said, voice low and cracked from disuse. Or he thinks he does, Steve was an old handler, a link to HYDRA here in this cage. Orders, safety.

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