fossilised | I come from a land of ice and snow

I come from a land of ice and snow

Asgard sat atop the branches of Yggdrasil since time began, and little had changed in their society in the years since. Each Asgardian was long-lived into the millennia, their lands were fertile, their people brave and strong. They had their vassals, their allies, and their enemies. Yet even those who opposed them respected the might of the Golden Dias, and the royalty who sat upon it. Currently that was Odin Borson, though he grew weary more easily now and had begun to consider passing the throne to his eldest son.

He had been blessed with many children, but only two that he considered worthy of his lineage and status. His firstborn, Thor, strong and honourable and everything an Asgardian warrior should be. His second son, Loki, was not natural born, though none knew that but his wife. He was different, a creature of magic and mayhem, of sharp intelligence. Both were worthy, but together they would take Asgard to a new prosperity, he was certain of it.

Midgard, where the mortals dwelt, was a land raided every few centuries for stock. It was seen as a breeding ground, much like a corral for cattle. Mortals were lesser, short-lived and weak, they were fit only as slaves. The last raid had taken place when Loki had been but a baby, nearly a thousand years ago, but the mortals that had been taken had been bred and cared for so that a healthy slave population still thrived. Slaves were given a weakened mixture of Idunn's crop with their food, to extend their natural lives to at least a few centuries in order to make them worth the effort to train. They had no rights, but they were taught well that this was their natural position.

All slave children were raised in a central pen and taught the same when small, those that then displayed talent at cooking, riding, hunting, housework, artisan skills, or singing were then measured off to be specially trained for higher masters. Every five years those who could afford to buy a slave, or those of high enough status to simply demand them, came to the corral and chose. Those who were chosen were special, were envied, and those who were not ended up working the fields out in the far reaches of Asgard, the most menial of work.

Anthony and Steven had been friends since they were little and being raised in the large pens together. Both had excelled, Anthony at crafting and Steven at warrior's skills, but neither were chosen when they were five, nor ten, nor even fifteen. Now, at twenty, it was their final chance to be chosen before they would be assigned to one of the meanest farmers beyond the borders of the great capital. Steven woke Anthony as the dawn rose, mingled excitement and nerves on his face.

"Anthony! Wake up, I've got news! I heard the overseer talking to one of the passing guards, and Princes Thor and Loki are coming to the corral today."

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Thor didn’t have too much more to say since he found himself in Loki’s presence in the hallway in Jotunheim one moment and then back in the field he had been taken from the next. The Warriors Three and Sif were there, and rushed over to him the moment he had appeared again. They had just been arguing about running off to the All-Father or perhaps even Heimdall. Luckily that hadn’t happened yet.

There was a lot going on back on Vanaheim by that point, not because much time had passed since James had returned to life, but because the three people that had seen him die had all just been informed that he was indeed breathing again.

Of all of the people to be most confused, it was Tony Stark, who kept pushing his cane against various parts of Bucky’s anatomy to test if it would pass through him or not.

“Stuff like this doesn’t happen,” Tony kept saying, mostly ingoring the festivities their small foursome were experiencing.

Bucky hadn't been out of Steve's sight since he came back, the other man had even come and sat with him in the bathroom as he showered to get all of his own blood off him and dress in clean clothing. It was almost as though his poor husband thought that he might die again if he looked away for even a moment. It was... weird, knowing he had been dead, remembering Hel.

But he was grateful to be alive, and that was the biggest surprise of all. He had believed he would welcome death when it came, a release from fighting to get himself back and the pain of what had happened, but he didn't. To know that he still wanted this fight gave him hope.

He frowned and took hold of the cane when it came at his stomach again, glaring at Tony though without any real animosity behind it. "Quit it, that's real old already."

"So is you dying. Or almost dying," Tony shot right back. "I'm tired of having your blood all over me. If you weren't a super soldier I would get really worried about all of the STDs I've probably contracted." He did like Bucky again once more for good measure, however before he set aside the cane between himself and Banner. Out of all of them, Tony looked like he had seen better days.

So far, Loki hadn't shown herself again. This worried Tony. He was pretty sure that he knew how the myths went. When you went to the land of the dead to send a soul back to life, you had to give something up.

Tony more or less liked Bucky. Sometimes more. Sometimes less. But was he worth anything Loki had to spend?

Chances were that the answer was no.

He was distracted. His eyes kept moving towards the door. He expected Loki back each passing moment but she never came. It made the worry increase. He had to stop caring about people. They always disappointed him.

Nobody else seemed to be worried about Loki.

Bucky wanted to see her and thank her, as did Steve who would probably do something stupid like fall at her feet sobbing and promise that he'd be in her debt for the rest of his life. But neither of them considered that she would be anything other than okay, and the Bruce was more concerned with testing Bucky's vitals in amazement.

Lucky for Tony, it would only be another couple of hours of torment and prodding Bucky intermittently with his cane before a familiar set of green eyes and black hair peered around the doorway, smile that could only be called positively smug at her lips.

"A sight for celebration."

Tony couldn't agree more.

Though he didn't get up, it was painful for Bruce to watch him struggle and Tony had caught that look too many times today, it was written all over his face how truly glad he was to see Loki back again. They had an odd relationship considering the face she normally wore, but he had already taken back everything he thought about not caring for people anymore. His heart was bolstered and as guilt tended to show in Banner's eyes, relief and pleasure were the emotions in Tony's.

He averted his eyes after a moment as Steve stood up immediately and marched himself over to the princess.

He didn't salute but he did offer her his hand. "Ma'am, I'm forever in your debt." Not quite the cow towing Tony imaged but close enough.

It was to Tony that Loki's eyes slid to first, lighting up in pleasure and warmth at the sight of a friend, though she also had to turn her attention fairly swiftly onto Steve and his words of thanks. She took the arm offered, clasping his forearm briefly before releasing it, and nodded.

"No debt has been incurred. That a life was taken was of my own mistake, that it should be rectified is only justice and nothing more. Now please, I would speak with Tony Stark, it has been a long and unusual day."

She found herself wishing for companionship more than compliments right then, though she could not deny that the compliments were pleasant too.

"Well, gentlemen, that's my cue. A pretty lady always wins out." He probably should have phrased that differently, considering that Bucky knew he'd slept with Loki, albeit in her older seeming form. He grunted as he stood, however, using the back of Banner's chair and then his cane for support. "Don't wait up for me."

He winked at Bruce specifically before hobbling off, more than willing to offer companionship to Loki so he didn't have to watch Steve stare obsessively at Bucky as if he might return to being a lifeless corpse.

"So, Persephone, what's Death like?"

That leg would need to be sorted out, he would not last as a companion to her on Asgard if he became truly lame, though she had none of the healing arts that many other sorcerers held as their chief talent. She would have to request assistance from another, but that would come in time.

"Helheim is no more horrible than Midgard, it is a place of contentment and family for many. I know that your mortal legends have brought such negative connotations to the word for Hel, but it is simply for those who did not die in glorious battle, not those who have committed wrongs or rights."

She led him to one of the little private rooms and waited until he had got sat down, before she draped herself over his lap carelessly.

"Though it may interest you as much as I, to learn that Hel herself is a daughter of mine in some other future."

Tony wound his arms around the girl and shifted her weight upwards so she didn't put so much pressure on his bad leg. His embrace was light, for she was a child at the moment, and no matter what Bucky thought of him, he wasn't interested in children. That didn't stop him from lightly thumbing over her back, though, likely enjoying the closeness as much as she probably needed to.

It had to be an ordeal. Even if the queen of the Realm that evidently housed them all when they died (what?!) was related to the girl he held.

"I don't think I can process that," Tony said truthfully. "I like being an atheist too much. It's comforting to think that this is it and no one is messing with our fates."

Despite of everything he had seen, he refused to believe in gods and demons and afterlives.

"What did you do? Pull the I'm your mom card?"

"Father, actually."

That didn't bother her so much; though she was female most of the time, she had not ruled out the possibility that she may father children in her future. It actually seemed odd to her sometimes to remember that most people were stuck in their one form, unable to shift and change at will.

"Whether you believe or not, you will travel to Helheim or Valhalla when you die, such is the nature of all of those bound to Yggdrasil's branches."

Her form began to change, to grow and develop into that of a woman more to Tony's tastes. She was running high on adrenaline and victory, a roll in the furs would be an excellent end to the day.

"Father?" A sorceress of many talents, Tony already understood her ability to shapeshift, but for some reason it didn't occur to him that she might also swap her gender, enough that she might actually be able to father children. That was changing the basics of who she was and he couldn't help but be curious.

"How does that work?" He absolutely preferred her this way when they were close, it made him feel less of a creeper. And she was so much softer with the extra curves too. He let his touches longer. "As a bird, you shrink-- but are you actually a bird then? Or is it just illusion?"

Because the implications were marvelous.

She could be anyone with the snap of a finger, not just look like them but actually be them. Banner would salivating right now to listen to this. The implications for medicine were insane.

"It is no illusion, I become what it is that I will, but the core of myself is always me. As I am now is truth, my breasts real, my uterus capable of bearing children. So too, if I would to mimic a cow, I would gain extra stomachs and udders, or if I were to be a fish then air would no longer be my ally for breathing."

It was hard to explain, even to those who also practised with seidr, for true shapeshifters were exceedingly rare. She knew of some, for her father had provided books and tutors once he realised what she was the only one that she knew of that lived now. The illusion and magic for fighting, that was much more common.

"Should I wish it, I could mother or father children in any form."

Which was probably where the legends for creatures like Sleipnir came from. "Why do you ask, are you wishing for kin of your own?"

"That ship has already sailed to Asgard." The thought bothered him. He'd never wanted a child, not even the half dozen people that might have had his kids over the years. He never requested a paternity test, he just had legal pay them out quietly with an NDA and note giving up all parental rights.

He'd never wanted any of that to come back at him.

But now he knew there were children out there. His children. He'd been told by a gleeful Bruce Banner doppelgänger about how well the pregnancies had all gone.

His hands moved up and over those very real breasts. He buried his thoughts of the rapes in the softness of her body.

Loki did not push him, she was beginning to see where the jagged scars in his mind were and not poke at them too much. She would have children one day, hopefully sons and daughters of Asgard's throne and perhaps others to bring her joy with people she cared for. But she did not need one now, and her first child should be with her future husband anyway.

She slid her arms around his neck and bent her head to catch his lips with hers. She would provide the comfort for him, and he could provide the closeness for her that she wished for after such a strenuous and odd sort of day.

"Then do not think on such things," she murmured, soft and warm. "There is only the joy of bedsport here, nothing more."

Tony did thoroughly enjoy his bedsport with Loki, and though his leg made many positions difficult, he was ceaseless in his attempts to please her. No one ever called his a selfish lover even if he was selfish in nearly every other way.

While one Tony was enjoying his version of Loki, another was starting to lose hope. It had been a full day. His Prince should have arrived well before now to get him. To get them all.

No one had been in to see them for a full day now. That worried Anthony. Were they going to starve them? That hardly seemed fair. They had all been really well taken care of.

It was only after slumping into the corner for a moment to get away from the states of his people that he overheard someone talking about deaths.

As careful as Steve and Bruce had been, leaks of what happened to the other captives had gotten out.

Anthony was not the only one starting to worry that they were going to be locked in here and starved, forgotten about in revenge for trying to give these other mortals meaning and purpose in their lives. Several of the lower ranking or younger slaves were sobbing by now, or even talking about trying to fight their way out and return to their masters.

Bruce came to sit beside Anthony, face grave.

"Have you heard the news? One of their people massacred the other captives without mercy or proper trial, like cattle for slaughter."

That was disgraceful, even those captured as criminals were given a proper execution so that their soul might find a better future.

“The prince was right,” Anthony said, a little too shell shocked to be anything but grim and frank. “That branch of the tree that we culled was poison. These people are poisonous. What if they’ve passed that trait on to their children?” He didn’t outright accuse Bruce of anything, he would never do that, but Bruce had given the go ahead to intermingle bloodlines. All of Steve’s children could be corrupted now. And that was even before he took into consideration how Loki might be faring with such a loss.

In the grand scheme of things, those losses meant absolutely nothing. There had been deaths of warriors upon the culling of the Realm to begin with. A few others had died during the initial confinement phases. To leave others behind was an acceptable loss. Loki would not be diminished in his praise.

A few household servants meant nothing and were easily replaced.

“We are dealing with barbarians here. If they come for us, we fight. We will go to Valhalla and we will serve the royal family there.”

Bruce was inclined to believe that Anthony said the truth here, these people were genuine poison. It was clearly a problem with their blood, for all of them were just as cruel as the others, and none saw the truth for what it was. He didn't fear for the intermingled blood, he trusted in their strengths to conquer the weaknesses innate in these mortals and allow the slaves to continue on correctly.

"We must find out how the others were slaughtered so that we know who to take vengeance upon, and then we have to escape. If it comes to Valhalla then we will go with pride, but I would rather return alive and serve for many years yet on this side of the veil."

He wasn't ready to die, he still bore the colours of Odin proudly when he could and he did not want to die an ignoble death on a foreign world.

"How do you want us to get that information, Bruce? The only talk I've heard is people mentioning it in passing. There are no names. And if we had names... How would we put that to faces?" There was a look of anger on Anthony's face, but not defeat. He'd just answered his own question.

Standing up, he strode through the main room that they had mostly gathered in rather than spread out (they were slaves and were used to being near each other. To be alone was to suffer). His fist pounded on the door that they occasionally heard people speaking through.

"I demand to speak with our captors!"

There was a startled sound outside and some low talk about going to find Captain Barnes.

Anthony didn't know who that was but he wasn't going to like the answer. He'd find out soon enough, especially when the two posted outside agreed to find their leader.

Bruce wasn't certain this was a good idea, Anthony was a brash and impulsive young man still. He may have lived longer than a normal mortal life, but he had matured only in the ways that mattered for serving Loki, he was not particularly seasoned when it came to dealing with enemies. But he was, technically, the higher ranking of the two of them and so he held his peace.

Captain Barnes did not want to leave his husband.

He hadn't felt the pain of Bucky's death since that day when he fell from the train, and he hoped never to feel it again. He wanted to go first, because he knew he wouldn't survive it again, he might not have survived it this time. Bucky was his world, his heart, what kept him fighting. But he had a duty, and his husband was finally asleep (in the closet as usual) so he had to leave his rooms.

Dressed in loose cargo pants and a sweatshirt, he appeared in the doorway to the house designated as a prison for now and stood with his arms crossed and his expression forbidding.

"You wanted to see me?"

He looked so much like Steven that Anthony had to suck in a breath. He should have been on the way to see him, to be reunited with him now that he was happily back in Thor's good graces. Would he fall into the same traps without him? Would he even notice that he was gone at first? Anthony wanted to punch this look alike in his perfect teeth.

But he did not. He just sneered.

"You killed half of us." It was a matter of fact though Barnes looked a little apprehensive. He hadn't been aware that the news was spreading. "Without trial. Without indication. You denied half of us the chance to dos gloriously and be reunited with our Masters. We demand recompense for your actions. You were never mistreated and none died in our care."

Though Steve was sorry about what had happened, his expression still hardened when this odd younger version of Tony, with his lilting accent, continued on with those ludicrous lies and demands.

"Never mistreated? Thousands were raped and imprisoned, stripped from their families and homes, and sold like cattle. You-- How dare you say that."

Steve folded his arms, looking every inch the soldier now. People might think he was a pacifist sometimes, but they were wrong, he was far from it. He just fought for justice, and this was justice.

"What happened to the others was a tragedy, not an execution, but that doesn't mean that you can demand anything from us. You'll still be tried as criminals and sentenced in time."

Anthony understood rape. Rape was about power, about having one's way dominate another's wishes. That this version of his brother was touting what they did as being anywhere near what he experienced was like already being dead. He felt a cold snap against his face as his all too expressive eyes widened.

"That was not rape. We take every care we can-- we use the mead, it's strictly for procreation-- How backwards are your people?! How far astray did you wander that you call us criminals?!" This was familiar. Steve would be able to equate what he was heading to the people living in Nazi Germany.

Not all of the Germans living there were evil or criminal. This was indoctrination.

But Anthong proved himself further defiant.

"Go ahead, Steven. Hold my feet to the fire. I am responsible for everyone here. They do as I say. I'll take your punishments."

That was not Tony Stark, not outwardly at least. There was more than just age and accent to seperate them.

It was good that he was different, it made it easier for him to keep them separate in his mind and not feel the tangled emotion of these people wearing the faces of his friends. He felt almost sorry for these people, they'd been indoctrinated so hard and for so long that they really believed they were better as property.

"You think that drugging someone against their consent makes it not rape? It's a violation, Tony, it doesn't matter how it's done. If they would have said no in their right minds, then it's rape."

He folded his arms, far too tired to want to deal with this.

"I'm not about to torture you. Every single one of you will receive a fair trial and punishments that fit you personally, not piling all onto one person. As for what happened to your fellows, I truly am sorry about that."

"Are you?" Anthony was an emotional man, jaw clenching. He had no idea what he could do to convince these people not to punish those beneath him. His body felt weaker than it should, knees almost trembling. A few days or even months without the apples would not adversely effect any of them, but half a year or so would see them all likely withering away to nothing. He'd seen the denial of the infusion as punishment before and though he knew Loki would come for him before that happened, the way his knees felt now scared him.

It was actually just the start of a panic attack. Bruce was right. He was too young for this, too green and unseasoned. He had been molded to fit Loki and Loki was like no other. If he couldn't talk his way out of this, he would be stuck.

"What happened to my people? All we heard was that they were all killed. Are you bringing their killer to justice?"

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject