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."

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Before Steven left, Anthony took him up in his arms for saying that. The other Steve had been just as assured with his position it seemed, and they likely were very similar, but this one said the things that Anthony knew to be true and in turn, it made him feel so much better. The embrace was too long. A few passing kitchen slaves notices but hurried on.

"I missed you," Anthony said, gazing up into eyes unlike any other. "I missed you a thousand times over. I can only bear being apart from you when your duties make anything else impossible but to be kept from you is nothing I want to happen again."

He dropped back onto his heels and hurried into the kitchen, all bravado and full of self importance.

"Do you think Prince Loki would be pleased to see such shoddy work?! You pack food like fools. It's a good thing he went to reclaim the two members of the kitchen staff taken from the training moon because the rest of you are worthless!"

Steven was more than happy to hold Anthony in his arms in return, squeezing him tight in muscle-bound arms. Though some of the other slaves noticed, Steven wasn't too worried; two slaves having a romance was not the scandal that a master and slave caring too much for each other was. It was just considered slightly stupid by other slaves, because either of them could be sold or given away easily.

The kitchen slaves were used to this sort of talk, though one or two rolled their eyes and made almost exaggerated motions to repack the food that they had been ordered to do so.

"He went to reclaim them because he was shamed at being unable to even stop Midgardians heathens from stealing Aesir property," that was one of the younger and newer kitchen slaves, still reeking of his own bravado from having being chosen for the palace kitchens.

The mouth on the newcomer had more people cringing than had likely been the idea. She thought herself so smart, and from the looks of her, had been snatched up just after her second knot. She’d not been in the danger zone just yet and this had been a lucrative position.

Most of her fellow workers turned away.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Anthony could snub his nose at anyone. He had picked up some of Loki’s traits, sure, but this one was entirely his own. “The cauldron scrubber? A girl who won’t live to be invited to the next big, successful raid? One who will never see what a campaign is like? Or how rustling fresh blood is dangerous and exciting…? For a no one, you sure have a lot of opinions.”

Anthony snapped his fingers and the head of kitchen staff grunted as he pulled himself from the menu preparation of the day. Technically, he didn’t answer to Anthony, he answered to Bruce as head of palace household, but Anthony was in a position of him. And knew all of this was for show too. “Aye?”

“I think this no one should be reassigned to a place I never have to see her again. She spoke ill of the prince, who led a successful raid, brought back many children and reclaimed and punished those that attempted to take from Asgard. With a mouth like that, she’ll do well spreading manure in Idun’s orchard, don’t you think?”

"Anthony, she is new--"

"And when I was new, I had my lips sewn shut for being unable to mind them. Anyone who is not working to prepare a feast for the Princes' celebratory hunt can go with her to the orchard where they can see but never taste the apples that you and I know well," Anthony said to the larger man and turned to leave. He would return for what would likely be a grand feast shortly.

While his words were harsh and mostly true, especially if she never learned to mind her tongue, it was possible for even the lowliest of house slaves to be granted the apples if the proved themselves good at their work. Idunn had a certain amount left over after all of the Aesir had been fed, and their personal slaves, and she allotted those throughout all the cities and villages of the realm for exceptional slaves to continue service.

She was not, however, an exceptional slave and she glared true venom at Anthony as she turned to argue with the head of the kitchen staff, a truly stupid thing to do as then his heart hardened to her as well. She would be sent to the orchard for the next month to spread manure and hopefully that would temper her tongue.

But it would show Anthony that gossip really had spread.

At least some proper packs would be ready for him when he did return, though it was Bruce that he ran into next. The man now washed and in clean clothes of his own, clutching a newly bound and expensive looking book in his arms. He paused in his quick steps towards his chambers to smile at Anthony, something weary behind his eyes.

"It is good to be home, hm?"

Anthony paused. It wasn’t that he had forgotten Bruce, he hadn’t. The man was his world when his world was without Loki. Romance had never happened between the two, despite Anthony’s pushing it on occasion, but that didn’t mean that it couldn’t be one sided. He loved Steven like a brother, he was his oldest and dearest friend in a life where that rarely happened. And in many ways, Bruce was a great deal like a father figure too, but it went further than that. Bruce saved his skin far too often for Anthony not to feel more than he ought to for this weary eyed, sad, resigned, but incredible Midgardian.

“You don’t look all that pleased to be back.” He needed to get to Loki’s side, but an extra minute or so to walk with Bruce back to his quarters wouldn’t matter much. And Anthony wanted to avoid looking up at Loki for a little while longer. His own emotions were frayed at the edges now that he knew what he did. “And it seems that the staff has been running their mouths… You’re going to have a lot of work to clean up before I send everyone out to the fields-- Can I even do that? I know my ranking but does that mean that I can just clean house and have new Midgardians brought in?”

Because yeah, he was really thinking of doing that.

Bruce was pleased to be back, this palace had been his home for longer than several Midgardian lifetimes, but he was tired from the ordeal of what they had been through and sad for the fate of Midgardians who didn't know what it was to have true purpose to their lives.

"No, I can do that, but you can't. If someone displeases you then you can issue punishment, but for greater infractions then you're supposed to come to me so that I can handle it."

Bruce shifted the book in his arms to show it off to Anthony, it was a history of the relationship between Midgard and Asgard, quite old and a valuable tome.

"The All-Father had this gifted to me on my return, it seems you were not the only one missed."

Anthony knew that Bruce held a fond place in the heart of the All-Father, but he also knew he was no longer attached to anyone in particular but instead managed the entire household. The responsibilities were greater but the prestige lower. And to be honest, Anthony didn’t have a head for that sort of thing. His hierarchy tended to put Loki above all else. As it should be.

He was about to argue with Bruce about responsibility when he showed off the book. Something some old and so well bound was immeasurably valuable. He blinked at the book and then at Bruce. The other man’s whole room was lined in books, floor to ceiling, but most were just bound parchment or scrolls without embellishment…they were cheap copies.

“Bruce… Of course you—” He didn’t want to be the ‘only one missed.’ The implications were terrible. Anthony still felt a little sick about it. Sure, he knew he fawned over Loki, he knew he was in love with him, but he never stepped over that line. He made sure of it. Bruce taught him well when it came to that. “You’re the most precious Midgardian in this palace. No one questions that. And this gift…it’s beautiful. And well deserved.”

"Not the most precious Midgardian to the ones who came to rescue us," Bruce said with a small smile, though he made sure to keep his voice down in case anyone should happen to come within hearing distance. "I've been back in the palace for over an hour, that means I have already heard all the gossip. You needn't fear, all think the Prince showed his temper in pique of childishness, not out of inappropriate affection."

Bruce had never judged, it's why he had helped Anthony understand how he had to behave with Loki and then pass that wisdom on to Steven after he had disgraced himself with the older prince.

"The All-Father would never have come for me, and that is something you must be prepared for one day. I am content with that decision as it was not the best use of resources to keep Asgard safe to come for us, one day you may need to understand why your master does not come."

But the book was a gift that showed that even if Odin's duty had forbidden rescue, his heart was glad for it.

Anthony’s eyes widened and he more or less decided not just to walk Bruce back to his room, but to shove him inside and close the door behind himself after he hurried in after him. He wasn’t angry, but he found the entire thing to be utterly embarrassing. He wouldn’t argue about being left one day. He had no intention of needing to be rescued again and he intended to stay with Loki until the apples ceased working and then he would retire to doing menial tasks away from Loki’s sight so that the Asgardian didn’t need to witness his quick aging and death.

What bothered him was again how easily Bruce had determined the reason for the anger…and why Loki had not bothered to put his things right for a full month after Anthony had been taken. He pinched the bridge of his nose and paced in the small spot he’d often sit in to be lectured by the older man on how to properly serve.

“You need to get it out of your mind immediately that he cares about me. The only thing we need to do is damage control on anyone thinking he was being childish,” Anthony insisted. He was deflecting, yes, but he knew Loki. His prince was not fickle and gossip cut him despite how aloof he acted. “He’s been through so much. We need to turn the gossip elsewhere.”

It would take a lot more than Anthony trying to boss him around to intimidate Bruce, he had been around for far too long and see far too much. Besides, he knew Anthony well enough now to see that he was only trying to mask the fear for his master and for someone knowing his secrets.

"I don't care how the two of you feel about each other, Prince Loki is sensible enough not to flaunt it and so I think you're safe. And you're worrying too much over gossip, there's always gossip and isn't it better for it to be about a childish rage than the potential truth?"

Childishness was, after all, something that Loki had been accused of before. It might stain his reputation a bit, but nothing like finding out he had destroyed his rooms, lived in the devastation for a month, and gone behind the All-Father's back all for the love of a slave.

Opening his mouth to give a retort, any words fell silent on his tongue as he leaned back against Bruce’s door and let his head hit it with a bang. “Stop being so wise. It’s really annoying and… And…Fine. You’re right. Always right, aren’t you?” He couldn’t help but rub a hand down his face. “I have to go back and finish getting ready. One of the imposters.. It was Loki. I’m sure of it, shapeshifted to try and fit in. And that’s a secret, Bruce. We have to find him and kill him….or… I don’t know what the prince is planning but—”

Anthony huffed and reached out to his hug his friend and advisor and teacher. It was a swifter, smaller hug than the one he gave to Steven.

“So it might be awhile until I see you again.” Or it might be never. A campaign like this was not sactioned by the All-Father after all. “Just give us a head start before you tell anyone?”

Bruce’s loyalties were hard to pin point.

To the All-Father yes, but also to the princes.

Bruce's heart was troubled by this, but he couldn't stop the two princes from being headstrong, he didn't have that sort of authority. But hunting down another version of Loki seemed foolhardy and might only lead to all-out war with these other realities that existed... something which he did not want to see.

"You should try and counsel your master against this, there is little that can be gained from pursuing retribution in this way."

But he doubted that Anthony would be able to do anything either, and so he reached out and put his hands on the younger man's shoulders in a gesture that was both warm and affectionate.

"I will give you until sundown, but then I must tell all I know to the All-Father, so do not be surprised if you are brought back before too long."

Loki would never listen to him. Not in this, not when listening to him would wound his pride in front of Thor, or in front of that young version of himself. But Anthony would have to try. He was sworn to keep Loki's well being after all.

Hurrying from the kitchen where he inspected the food to be wrapped up for extended travel between four party members, Anthony found his master in the stables, not his bedroom. That seemed almost like a shrine of his grief.

He paused at the large doors, watching Loki in profile, before he sent the stable hands away and plodded up to the prince.

They were alone for the most part.... And that was difficult for Anthony too. Propriety was never one of his strong suits when they were in public and in private it was so much harder.

"My prince... Provisions have been obtained. And I packed some of your things." So he had seen the room. He made had clear. "But I... I think we should stay here. I do not want to meet your inferior."

It had partly been seeing the state of his brother's rooms that had convinced Thor to come with him against the All-Father's orders, he knew what it was like to love a slave more than was appropriate and he owed Loki for having kept Steven and reuniting them after helping him learn how to be more circumspect. It had been humiliating enough to have Thor seeing that, but to now know that Anthony had seen the evidence of his grief was somehow more upsetting.

It felt vulnerable in a way he disliked being, and that made him sharp and eager to find retribution on something else.

"We have naught to fear from him, but I will not allow him to remain alive, poisoning my name with his foolish deeds. Let me hear no more dissent on this, Anthony."

[Fossil!!!!!]

If there was one thing that Anthony never wanted to see, it was his prince being something other than completely sure and calculating. He understood that this was about his pride, he knew it was going to end in punishment, and that there could be massive consequences. Usually, Anthony was completely up for whatever the wind brought their way, but this time, he feared for what would become of them.

Anthony was not going to hold his tongue. He marched himself in pristine tall boots towards the man staring at his horses, and reached out to take the hem of his sleeve. He’d been doing this from time to time for the last fifty or so odd years of his employment with Loki and while it was childish, and he knew that, Anthony was tactile and the connection was important to him.

Even if it was just through fabric.

“They have the backing of many poisoned worlds. Would it not be better to find a way to sever the branch rather than pluck the twigs?”

[JENIIIII... alas my last tag for today but I am here tomorrow, wait for me!]

Of course Anthony's plan was the more sound one, Loki was far from foolish and he knew that potentially waging war over a few individuals was the epitome of idiocy, but he could not back down now. Even more so because to do so would be to humble himself and say that a slave had better ideas than he.

He did not pull his sleeve from the grasp of Anthony, a sign of how much he had missed the man during their time apart, but his voice was cold and unyielding.

"Those poisoned worlds will have no way to retaliate without a sorcerer of my ability assisting them, the Bifrost cannot pierce realms in this way. If you are too cowardly to attend then you may remain and I will share Steven."

"Master--" He was given a direct order here. He should mind his tongue but Anthony could not. "The place through the Void is foreign and the rules have changed. It js possible that your counterpart is not the most powerful sorcerer in that world."

Actually, Anthony doubted he was in this world too but he would never say it. Frigga still bested him for now, but Loki was growing in his craft and skill.

"You may call me coward but I will go with you anywhere. Nothing could keep me from your side." Not even this folly.

"It is more than mere revenge."

Loki's voice lowered, speaking truth rather than bravado, though he still did not look at Anthony for admitting these sorts of things aloud, even in private, was almost anathema to him.

"Though I cannot deny the desire to see his blood run through my fingers for stealing my most precious of possessions, it is more. He will return to his brother and his father, they will mount their armies for what we did at Vanaheim, and invasion will come. War will come. The only way to stop this is to find him before he reaches his family and slaughter him, so that none will know where the threat came from, and none will be able to retaliate."

How could Anthony argue with that logic? He trusted Loki to have what was best for them all in mind and he let his arm drop, face looking more determined. "What else needs to be done before we depart?"

He was lucky that he wasn't punished for such back talk, but Anthony rarely thought in terms of fortune for his life. This had all been laid out for him and he deserved a Master like Loki. Fate and destiny had been working together to bring him the perfect Master and so Anthony felt all the things, good and bad, that occurred to him were meant to be.

And this chase across the Void to slaughter and inferior version of his Master? That was just part of it.

"I have a month of catching up with back here. Our loose ends need to be tied quickly. Steven must be dragging his feet. Or polishing armour again."

"Nothing, we need only wait for my brother and yours to arrive."

Brothers were not always blood, after all, and Steven and Anthony were close enough that they should have been allowed to hold that title for each other for a long time now. Loki raised a hand and tugged it through Anthony's short hair, some of his anger fading enough to give him a fond look.

"Go and hunt them down, be sure to make certain that there are enough of Idunn's crop in our provisions to last us all for a year of campaign."

He hoped they would not be gone for quite that long, but it was better to be prepared.

A year? That other Loki would make it back to the other Thor easily... Unless the Loki that they had met had been brother to the Thor he had seen his Prince kill. Maybe he had no where else to go now. That could indeed draw out a campaign.

Anthony briefly touched his fingertips to Loki's chest before he rushed off, the length of his hair a bit longer than was usually preferred among the Midgardians (for Asgard favoured a longer mane) caught in the wind behind him.

Whatever bushels of apples Steven was bringing, Anthony doubled it as he fell in line beside his brother and behind the crowned Prince. Thor looked majestic and amused as they headed to the stables and Anthony chances a little bit of an eyebrow waggle at Steven before they reunited with Loki.

There was much to do after that as night was falling swiftly.

He'd been on hunting campaign many times with Thor and Loki before, but this was so very different.

The fact that they had not been stopped and taken before the All-Father by now, despite their slaves openly preparing for campaign, was a strong enough suggestion that while this was not officially condoned, it was going to be allowed. Likely because of Frigga's influence, she had seen the toll this past month had taken on her youngest and she knew that keeping him from his ill-guided mission would only have a worse outcome.

So it was that they led their four horses from the stables eventually in peace, out towards the countryside that they all knew so well. Home. Peace and prosperity. This was where they belonged, but not where they were destined to stay.

Following the thread of seidr he had felt before the other him disappeared, Loki pulled them all through the Void and then hissed in frustration as his horse immediately collapsed due to the cold. Even Aesir horses, bar the magnificent Slepnir, could not withstand Jotunheim cold.

"Why would he flee here?"

"Perhaps he knew we would follow. Asgardians did not fare so well in the cold." Thor was on his feet again, ignoring the plight of the animal in favour of being angry at where they had blindly gone. "Or it is a trick to slow us."

Though no magic was needed to warm him, it would be to keep Steven and Anthony in top shape. Their horses would need an even more highly concentrated act of magic to keep them going and Thor suspected they were already too far gone to save. He was angry at that too. His charger had been a gift from his brother along with Steven all those years ago and he had cherished the beast. Not as much as he cherished Steven but he was still dismayed.

"Send out belongings into the Void to retrieve later. Let us find this imposter. I will rend him limb from limb."

Thor perhaps should not be so foolish into battle with Loki. After all, Loki knew he could best and kill Thor with luck and magic. He just had not told his brother this.

He bid Steven to cloak himself in fur and was already heading across the frozen landscape.

Loki busied himself with setting the warding spells around the two mortals, such that they would feel the cold but only as if it were a sharp winter's day in Asgard and not as a dangerous chill that could leech the life from them. He did not bother with the horses, though it was extraordinarily irritating to see such good beasts flounder, partially for conserving his own energy and partly because they were as good as dead already.

"We must proceed with caution, there are sure to be Jotnar here and no Frost Giant has ever taken kindly to seeing an Aesir on their land. It would do us no good to fall to a pointless battle there without ever seeing the imposter."

A good name, better than giving him the dignity of being called Loki.

Steven glanced at Anthony in concern, this had suddenly become much more dangerous than he imagined it might, and he could think of no reason why Loki would ever choose Jotunheim as a refuge. Surely it would be as dangerous to him as anyone else?

"I liked this a whole lot better in my armor," Tony said as they crouched in a cavern. So far, nothing had decided to eat them, which was nice, but he also was half frozen despite what Loki said. She had warded him, whatever that meant, but his bones felt thicker and heavier. He rubbed his hands together as he watched the princess pace. "We should just go to your dad."

It was the fourth time he'd suggested it but they were still here in the cave instead of in the nice, also cold palace of the King of Jotunheim. Fuck his life.

"I know you're worried about them coming back, but they won't. Listen. We've had enough to do with them. More than enough. They have their people back and didn't try to take us all. We have to cut our losses and work on finding a new home."

But he felt sorry for the princess too. She looked so young and so at a loss. They'd brought evil into their universe, and all because she wanted to help some mortals.

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