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

“No.” Tony was adamant. “They’re not trying to kill anyone right now, they’re going back. Just let them.” It wasn’t admirable to be stupid. No one’s pride here was at stake. “Stay here and help us close up whatever way they were able to get here. You’re the void specialist, aren’t you?” He hoped he was ticking off some of the boxes on the Loki List of Charms here. He needed her to listen to him and not to risk herself.

She was their protector, their way in this new reality, and they needed her.

Tony needed her too, but he wasn’t willing to say that outright. Even as she stroked his hair, he did her as well, soothing and maybe just a little desperate. If he couldn’t talk her out of this, her brother would turn his massive back on them and…that might well be that. “Just…stay here with me.”

"Come with me."

Loki made no move to actually detach herself from Tony yet, but there was tension in every line of her body that suggested just how unhappy she was at the idea of sitting and waiting for them to leave as though they were so much more powerful. It galled her, and she had a traitorous thought that her Thor would not simply sit back.

"You can get your revenge and prove yourself stronger than the wounds they have left on you."

She wouldn't force him, of course, but the fire was bright in her eyes as she urged him to think on it.

Tony's eyes lifted. He didn't want to put himself in harm's way, he liked to live and to breathe, he wanted to continue to exist, but there was something compelling about the princess that made Tony want to follow her.

He knew it was a dangerous thought. He knew that two people couldn't bring down a universe. What revenge could they realistically take?

And as that question laid unanswered, another popped up above it, drowning out the logic.

What if this was his life from now on? What if this was all he had? What if he never stopped being afraid and losing everyone?

"All right."

He couldn't believe what he was saying, but he nodded. "At least we'll have some fun before we die. Like Sheryl Crowe's bar friend."

It was an incredibly foolish plan and could lead to war across realities when both Laufey and Thor realised where their princess was, it could devastate the remaining mortals, and would probably lead to both of their deaths. Yet the chaos in Loki's soul demanded she go along with this and so she rose at once, offering her hand to Tony.

"Tell me how you wish to look and I will cast the illusion upon you, we must be slaves of no great means for they would all surely be known on sight."

She couldn't know that their plan would fail before it even began, unable to comprehend that every slave would be known. They would never pass as what they were not.

It should have occurred to Tony. He'd lived there, albeit in a cage with a blond who spent all day and night talking to the unresponsive tiger prowling the cage beside them, but he had come to figure out quickly that the Asgardian slaves shared a camaraderie. He had even remarked on it a few times.

He should have realized, too, that there had been less than two dozen slaves brought with them when they liberated their people and that, despite the groups being split up and half of them dying, that it would be easy to pick out that they were imposters. He should have been smarter. He should have thought about this more clearly.

But even a genius could be dumb sometimes.

"I've always wanted breasts," he said, feeling his old cheekiness return as Loki worked her illusion over them both.

Loki kept herself as a woman and turned Tony into one too, making them both unremarkable in the looks the slaves tended to have, in the sort of clothes that a lesser house servant might be expected to wear. She clasped his forearm when she was done, brilliant smile on her lips.

"May Yggdrasil favour our venture."

She slipped out of the hut first and towards where Thor had finished gathering the corpses and was preparing to encircle the slaves so that Loki may transport them all back to Asgard where they belonged.

"Wait! Prince Thor, please do not leave without us!"

Interestingly, though not for either Tony not Loki, it was not all of their previously mentioned mistakes that would mark them as imposters so much as their choice of gender. All of the slaves that had been brought from the training moon had been male and that was because the women, by virtue or fault of their gender, had mostly left either in the midst of pregnancy or as wet nurses and caregivers of the infants already born. Thor himself knew this for fact for he had left with the last of the women himself, leaving only two dozen slaves in Loki's care, all of whom were household slaves that both Princes had known and grown up with to attend Loki while he broke up camp, set up sterilizing supplies for the Midgardians left, and enjoyed his last few days at the end of a successful campaign before returning home.

He'd only had a small guard, Anthony his personal slave, Bruce, who headed their household as Odin All-Father's former favourite, and a few other slaves to attend to his needs and to assist him.

And none of those slave were women, let alone these two who were not wearing any symbol of station, Loki's colours, nor the purples of the great Borson household.

Thor frowned and nodded towards a gardener slave who had already put down the body of a dead slave in anticipation. "Bring them to my brother," he said, which might not clue the two in that their ruse had been discovered.

Perhaps the dungeon would be filled after all.

Of course all of the other slaves also knew these two to be imposters, they had spent the last few days with what was left of their fellows and there were no women among them. That meant these were the enemy. They were prepared to kill at once, but their prince said to take them to Prince Loki, so that was what they would do.

Loki and Tony followed meekly, she affected the pose of what she thought a slave would be in front of royalty, but it was too much. There was respect and there was complete abasement and the Aesir had never demanded the latter, even slaves had the respect due to those living the lives set out for them by higher powers.

Prince Loki raised an eyebrow at the two who had been brought before him, small smile touching his lips, and spoke deliberately in Aesir to them to see if they would understand.

"Tell me your names and positions, do not be afraid."

Four months, even with an alien language, had been enough for Tony to pick up the language. Anthony and Bruce had spoken in Aesir most of the time when not directing All-Speak at them and the Asgardian guards used Aesir exclusively. The Germanic-Scandenavian was familiar to Tony and the words had roots in them that he understood. But all that said, these particular words were too foreign for him to understand in total. They had been asked their names and reassured--

Probably.

Tony avoided the frowning face of his younger self, whose posture told him how dangerous this moment was, and looked instead to his princess.

She was Jotnar but she was learned and about to marry an Aesir. He would, hopefully wisely, allow her to speak for him.

Either that, or he would pretend he was mute.

At least Loki was fluent in Aesir, she had been since a very young age and had then trained in All-Speak later, so she understood the question being asked. But she was more observant than Tony, this was her speciality, and so she saw the curve of the other Loki's lip and the frowning face of Anthony.

"We worked in the kitchens, my prince."

She gently eased a dagger from beneath her sleeve, ready for a fight, and considered whether to push Tony out of the way or throw him a dagger of his own. This had not worked, that much was evident, but now they were both playing a dangerous game of how long this would last before it all went to pot.

"There are others who have been left, let us go and gather them for you."

"Left?" Anthony spoke in All-Speak, mostly to see what the other, mute woman would do. He wanted them both to understand, though he wasn't sure how one could speak Aesir at all. Could this be a Vanir, disguising herself as a Midgardian? That seemed like the most likely scenario.

Anthony turned and dropped to one knee in front of Loki as Thor, the others, and their dead returned.

"My prince. It is my responsibility to find these lost Midgardians." His play acting was just a little over the top, to match the potential Vanir's. "I will accept punishment after I have found them all."

Now, Tony was well aware that they had been found out. He knew himself well enough to know that the younger Tony was being a purposeful little shit.

He leaned into his princess and lightly touched her elbow. They had to go. Like now.

That Tony had leaned into her was all the opening she needed. She reached out and grabbed at his arm, teleporting them both away as fast and as desperately as she can, her heart thudding with adrenaline and fear now that she realised how utterly foolhardy her plan had been.

The journey and the landing would not be pleasant for Tony, as Loki had instinctively travelled the path the most familiar and safest for her, which meant they had landed on Jotunheim with its frozen wastes. They were far from the palace, closer to the magical centre of the realm, and Loki had no more energy left for further teleportation. She used what little she had left to touch her finger to Tony's forehead so that he would no longer freeze to death, though he would not be entirely immune to the cold.

"...you have my apology."

She did not give it often, but here it was warranted.

"I nearly got us both captured or killed for my own arrogant hubris."

For once, Tony was silent. He was too busy trying not to throw up right now, which took just about all of his focus at the moment. He felt a burning warmth in his chest and a pounding in his ears that left him lightheaded. When he caught his breath, on his hands and knees despite the ice beneath bare skin, Tony shook his head. "Shit happens."

His counterpart, however, was no longer on his knees. He was instead standing in front of Loki, his own heart pounding in his chest. That had been no Vanir. The speaker had been Loki.. He hadn't seen him in his true form but he didn't have to. Anthony had spent half a century traveling with his prince through the void and he knew the way it felt and it tasted innately.

He wasn't sure what to say. This was not the poisoned branch of Yggdrasil with its Thor protecting Midgard. This was another entirely. And yet that had been Loki... Albeit a rather crude actor. Could this version of his Prince be but a child?

Loki also knew the feel of his own magic, though it was nuanced slightly differently in a way that was to be expected from a version of himself that was not truly him. This was a Loki working with these renegade mortals, one who thought to lower himself and pretend to be a slave to infiltrate Asgard? He looked disgusted, though more at the poor acting than at anything else.

Had he done it, he would have chosen two of the slaves and tortured their life stories out of them, then slaughtered them before taking their places, much more convincing than pretending to be extras to a cabal known too well.

"We must follow," he murmured to both Thor and Anthony. "This is no longer some mere Midgardians, there are other sorcerers out there with twisted intentions."

"I will take our property to Asgard. They have suffered enough," Thor said, his voice booming despite his attempt to soften it. Many of the slaves looked relieved to hear that. "And you and I will follow." It was not usually wise for both Princes to leave the care of Asgard at once and their parents would not appreciate Thor's decision, but he couldn't help it. He enjoyed these missions with his brother. He enjoyed how cohesive it made him feel. Thor and Loki were best as a pair. He believed that whole heartedly.

Thor lifted his hammer and the slaves instinctively gathered towards him. Even Bruce, despite how he might have given the majority of his loyalty to Loki as he had cared for him for so long before Anthony was purchased.

Anthony, however, did not wish to leave his Master. Not again. He knew he was not a warrior. He would not be needed in this revenge raid, but he desperately wanted to be. His eyes stayed focused on his Master. Loki had come for him but would be leaving again so soon. It was unfair.

Loki could see that desperation and, though it was likely foolish, he felt himself swayed by it. Anthony was an important slave, more so than any slave had a right to be, though they were far more sensible than Thor had been over Steven and so nobody knew. His eyes flashed briefly at Anthony, before turning to Thor with a thoughtful nod.

"We will take only Anthony and Steven to serve us, so that we may travel light."

To campaign without any slaves was almost unheard of, and he could stretch his seidr to shield them both from whatever climate they happened to encounter once they followed the thread of seidr to wherever it led.

"We will both return and see our property cared for and our dead given their rites, we will gather supplies, and we will leave at nightfall."

"Aye." Thor obviously liked the idea of campaigning with his favoured slave. Over the last few weeks, he had been careful with Steven. They had not slept together in his bed since he had been gifted him back. Steven had instead joined Samuel and the twins in the slave quarters on the patio landing of his room. He took Sif and Fandral to his furs instead and the rumours of his over-attachment to his slave vanished. That wasn't to say that Steven was not still Thor's reason for breathing-- They spent quieter moments in private together.

Thor had become a big proponent of bathing, far away from even his other slaves' so that their gossip did not spread.

Once back on Asgard, Thor called for all of his slaves to assist with their dead. There was mourning and then a feast to celebrate their journey to Valhala, where they would await the royal family with James to serve them again in the next Realm.

Anthony dutifully followed Loki about and did as he was told without wit or retort. Those large brown eyes of his eyes stayed focused on his Prince as if he was afraid he might disappear again.

Loki was not so clingy and he barely paid attention to Anthony once they were back save to order him to go and collect all of the belongings they may need for a possibly lengthy campaign away. Though there was a small look passed between them that said silently that he would speak on this when they finally had a moment alone, that he too had missed his constant shadow.

Anthony would find that he had to take his eyes off Loki to do as he was bidden, but he would not be alone long before a large blond man in red and gold slammed into him and gathered him into the tightest of embraces.

"Anthony!" Steven sounded choked up. "I feared that I wouldn't see you again until I reached Valhalla."

Anthony wasn't prepared for Steven and hadnt really been thinking about him too much as he tried his hardest to prepare quickly so he could return to Loki's side. The force of those arms left him reeling and he held on tightly so he wouldn't immediately tip over. It was so good to see him, so good to touch him. That false Steven had been impossible, how did his older self manage to get along with him at all?

"Why do you think you would go to Valhalla," Anthony teased as he pressed his face against his neck. "You fancy yourself some sort of warrior do you?"

There were so many things Anthony wanted to say, so much he wanted to tell him.

"Help me with these. We're going on a hunt."

Anthony would just have to forget the hunt for a moment because Steven had no intention of letting him go, lifting him right off his feet and squeezing him. Tears ran down his cheeks but he had no shame in them, Aesir men were not raised to believe emotion was something to be hidden and those were traits passed on to their slaves. If tears were appropriate, then let them flow and do not be ashamed.

"I would have made sure to come to Valhalla to follow you, you fool."

Stupid man.

"You need to stop being captured, I don't know how much my heart can take. You ought to have seen Prince Loki, I have never beheld such anger before."

Anthony refused to do anything until Steven put him down. He beat roughly on his shoulder until both of his feet were on the ground. He knew that Loki had come for him, he had never been in doubt of it, though no other slave would expect their master to go to such great lengths to come to their rescue. He made something in his gut twist to hear about Loki's anger.

"I hate to have caused him pain, but he was glorious when he came. The poisoned Midgardians that had fled came back somehow with the help of Vanaheim to take all Midgardians from the training moon. We were locked apart in two buildings. One group was killed and we were forgotten, left to starve, until your counterpart came to speak with us. I tried to convince him of the wrongness of his ways, but he was stubborn. I never want to meet him again. He's only enough like you to have hurt to converse with."

Steven scrubbed his face free of tears when he finally released Anthony, before tugging him down the corridor and away from where the supplies were that they needed to start gathering for a trip with their princes.

"Do not think of them as us, they are the product of a diseased world tree and should be pitied but not conversed with. He wasn't me, I am me, a proud slave of Prince Thor, do not think of me another way."

This was the reality where things made sense, where each Midgardian had their purpose and their sense of being part of a bigger whole.

"You need bathing and shaving, you look a disgrace. We can gather supplies after, but if you go into the quartermaster's chambers looking this way then gossip will spread about Prince Loki keeping a slovenly household."

"No one gossips about Prince Loki," Anthony said, because be couldn't deny that Steven's point of view was inaccurate to his face. It would start an argument and Anthony didn't want that. He knew that not every Midgardian was happy or had a fulfilling life. Not everyone was lucky enough to work in a great household like this. Not every Master was kind either.

Bruce showed him that, showing him the horrors that some slave owners could force their property through.

Even if it was their right as owners to do it. That was the same as Loki deciding to snuff him out of he wished. There would be no trial. Loki had to right to do anything he wished to him. Anthony would gladly allow any of it but not all slaves would feel the same way.

And what about those slaves in the training village that reached their third knots? They would all be worked to death on Vanaheim or Asgard within a few years.

Or, if that wasn't too bad, what about Midgard itself? Billions of people might reside on that world as they had on the Midgard they conquered, feeling just as this Steve Barnea felt.

Anthony felt conflicted for the first time as he shifted the subject.

"But I will shave and bathe-- tell me of your time with the Prince?"

Anthony was a fool if he believed that nobody gossiped about Prince Loki, he was often the prince far more gossiped about because of his unusual and unorthodox interests and decisions. He had no idea either of the possible moral dilemma going through Anthony's mind, he was content in his lot in life and he would have been content to serve wherever he ended up, and so it didn't register with him that some may not be.

"It had been-- wonderful."

Steven had a sparkle to his eyes again, just as he had the last time he had served Thor. He couldn't say too much out in the open, but Anthony was smart and should be able to tell that he and his prince had become just as close as ever.

"None speak of impropriety now, I rarely share his furs, far less even than you are called to your master's."

Anthony had always wanted more. He wanted everything. Loki had been a lucky match because he not only tempered Anthony, but gave into him as well. One only had to look at the chamber off of Loki's with all of its gear and gadgets to know that Anthony was lucky. Why couldn't every Midgardian feel as he felt though? He poured water into a basin to soap up his face for the razor. He would have Steven shave him. The blond could scrap his skin perfectly.

"You don't look as if your master never takes you to his furs," Anthony had to point out.

Anthony knew that Steven had likely been the sole companion for Thor's furs for too much time, but the same was true of himself and Loki. Loki showed interest in no other Asgard. Anthony never had to share him.

But they were safe about it. None really came snooping into Loki's bedchambers.

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