fossilised | I come from a land of ice and snow

Watered wine was offered along with some fruits and nuts for a meal and then the two were left alone. Anthony was quiet. Very quiet. Steven had always been kind to him, had always taken his meals with him when he was sat alone and though he had a lot of friendly faces to spend his days with, it was Anthony he chose to spend his time with. Therefore, he knew by now what to look for when something was wrong.

"It's so tight," the shorter man said when prompted, carefully touching the fine lines of the jerkin. He looked amazing, regal despite his wild mop of hair. But he had never worn anything like this before. It had been simply brown tunics, trousers, boots and a knotted waist cord. And nothing else. Now he had on a belt and a fitted garment and knee boots--

He was just overwhelmed. He was start to swim in that feeling, turmoil bubbling beneath the surface of his amber colored eyed.

"I'm going to make him so mad," he whispered. "I make everyone so mad. I'm going to mess up and that will be it and I'll never see you again."

Steven wished that he could reassure Anthony that this wasn't going to be the case, but he couldn't, because he knew all too well just how much his friend's mouth ran away with him on occasion and how irreverent he could be with his betters. He could get away with that with the guardians of the unclaimed slave quarters, but not with one of the Princes of the realm.

"You're the most intelligent person I've ever met, Anthony, if anyone can be smart enough to work out when to say something and when not, it's you. I know it's tough, but this is an amazing opportunity for you. For us. If they kill you, I'd miss you every day for the rest of my life."

He smiled softly and reached over to touch one leather covered shoulder.

"He must have seen something in you that he wanted, or he wouldn't have bought you. Hold onto that. And if he's a cruel master, then tell me and we'll work out how to get you away from him."

"Such treasonous talk," murmured Loki as he entered the room, amused smile on his lips. "Barely in my possession for hours and already plotting your escape from bonds? Did I choose unwisely?"

Anthony stared at Steven as if he had grown two heads and was leaking purple pus. The man had been trying to reassure him and now he was going to get them both killed. His jaw was still working when Strven wisely dropped to his knees. Anthony couldn't seem to move though his eyes did lift to Loki. "There's no place for a slave to go when he isn't owned," he said, forcing out the words before he choked on them.

He wasn't scared of Loki. And he wasn't scared of death. But this was opportunity. This was something he had never had in his life and he wasn't going to let it go.

"What's more, my prince, there has never been a luckier slave than I. I will never leave you. Even if you see it fit to be cruel to me, I'm sure I've deserved it. Don't throw me away yet. Let me prove myself." Anthony should have bowed by now, but he felt himself grow bolder and more defiant with each word. "You will never regret choosing me. Never, my prince. It's my first promise to you."

He could not really promise to always do his best, but at least he was honest now.

To a point. Because sooner or later, everyone except mister perfect over there with the rubbed off on big mouth cast him out.

Loki wasn't angry, he had heard enough of the conversation to know that the words had just been ill-timed and ill thought through attempts to cheer up a friend. Interesting, that the two slaves he had picked were companions, perhaps even in mind to be consorts properly with one another, or perhaps just a deep friendship. He did not need Anthony's impassioned speech, but he listened to it with intense green eyes fixed on his new slave's face.

"A dangerous promise to make when you do not know me, what I desire of you, and you capabilities to fulfil those roles. But perhaps not so foolishly made yet, for I do not regret it to this moment."

He touched Steven on the head to indicate that he should rise.

"Such words are bordering on insanity, you would do well not to repeat them. Think on your mistakes as I show Anthony to his furs so that he knows which part of my chambers belong to him."

Loki's long fingers flicked toward Anthony in a gesture to follow. He didn't go far, only into one of his many side rooms where it was currently a sitting area with high windows and comfortable seats for entertaining guests. A brilliant flash of green light followed, transforming the room completely so that it contained a chest for clothes, another for weapons, a moderately sized pallet with furs, and low set bath, a toilet, and a workbench with some simple tools.

There had been no space for a personal slave and now there was. Anthony was not to be a craftsman or a servant called upon only occasionally. He was to be Loki's personal slave. Realization hit him hard. No newly claimed slave could hope to have worked their way up so quickly. Not even to a merchant class. And farmers never had personal slaves. But Loki ought to have had a personal slave for years. For centuries now. And yet, it was obvious that he did not.

Anthony was bordering between smugness and panic. Did he remember the proper ways to serve? Could be fight sleep to come when called? How would the other slaves take him since he now would be in command when it came to Loki's wishes? He felt his palms start to sweat as he forced himself forward to look over the tools.

"Thank you... I'm-- I'm really honored. I don't think I've ever seen..." He had to get a hold of himself. He was no sniveling brat. He was chosen to be a personal slave of a prince. He couldn't pinch himself properly thanks to the leather but he didn't want to wake up so it was all right. He straightened up as best as he could. "Prince Loki, I know you haven't told me what you're expecting of me but.... I'm really happy to be here. Are those wolf furs? Wow!"

Perhaps he should have stayed more sniveling and less entirely too excitable.

Anthony was clearly undisciplined and overwhelmed, he had a mixture of pride and ambition which had yet to level themselves out for he obviously did not know how to react or feel currently. It was to be expected, most of the royals and families close to theirs in status had personal slaves for a long time, or promoted existing slaves to the position when children came old enough to need one of their own. Steven would not be Thor's personal slave, though he of course would belong to him, his duties would be Thor's decision to make.

"You were not taught in the unclaimed slave village how to serve a master as a personal slave? Your education, it seems, was lacking. You will assume responsibility for my meals when I choose not to take them in the hall, the maintenance and cleaning of my clothes and weaponry, the maintenance and security of my chambers, you will accompany me when I travel between realms on diplomatic and warrior business to see to my needs, and you will fulfil any other order I choose to give to you."

Loki was pleased despite the behavioural issues, for Anthony had shown no sign of repugnance at his magic, only excitement and bewilderment. That was an important barrier crossed.

"I have been served by palace slaves until now. You would do well to speak with Bruce, a house slave, he has served me the most in the past decade. I will allow one week for the learning of duties and be lenient with mistakes in this time, but you and Steven will be perfect come the feast of my brother's birth celebration. That will be your first duty, to ensure that Steven is also up to standard. Now go, I wish to read, do not disturb me until evening meal."

Anthony made tiny little chicken headbobs without any back talk. He thought his training went fine, thank you, for what he remembered of it. He could fold clothing and polish armor. He could fetch meals and warm furs. The rest would need to be learned gradually through experience since he needed to figure out the way Loki wanted tasks completed rather than how his trainers assumed a master might.

He backed out of the room with Steveb behind him ubtil he could shut the doors to Loki's chamber. His forehead fell forward then and smacked the heavy wood. His eyes closed.

"My master has it backwards. You're already up to snuff. You've got to make sure I am," Anthony said to Steve. "So we have to find this Bruce." The guard that had stopped them before made sure not to look at either now as they passed in proper attire, though Anthony smirked at him. He liked being proven right.

They would end up having to ask directions of other house slaves who seemed confused by Anthony's crest and colors as they pointed them in the direction of the slave quarters. Anthony wasn't prepared for Bruce's small room, filled with books and parchment. The slaves in the palace had so much priveledge he couldn't get his mind around it... Though it still felt right to have it. Anthony leaned against the doorway and watched the man read for a moment, curls obscuring his eyes, before he knocked on the jamb. "Hey. Are you Bruce? Prince Loki sent me to get lectured by you."

Bruce enjoyed somewhat more privilege than some of the other house servants, because he had been a favourite of Odin on campaigns before his berserker blood got the better of him. It was a rare condition, but in a fight he lost all sense of friend or foe, all rationality, and became damn near unstoppable. He had to be retired from the field after he killed three Asgardian warriors by mistake, and he did not regret his move to palace house staff, for it allowed him to maintain his peace.

He glanced up, surprise lighting his face when he saw that the young man in front of him was dressed in Loki's colours. He hadn't thought that the prince would choose a personal slave now, but of course he had gone and plucked one untested and untrained properly from the village.

"Yes, that's me, come in. And you are--?"

"Oh, I'm Steven. I'm to belong to Prince Thor, but not until his birth celebration day, so I need to masquerade as a palace worker until then."

"All right. Prince Thor is easier to serve, anyway. He enjoys the hunt, as long as you can keep up, fight, polish weapons and armour, and can skin and tan furs, then you'll be fine. Prince Loki is more of a scholar, you'll need to be smart and good at thinking on your feet, because your duties will inevitably need to be adapted around his moods and activities."

Bruce finally set his book down and got up, stretching the ache in his back as he did so.

"I hope you're not fond of sleep, both princes have exceptional stamina and can sometimes go days without."

"You could try to sugar coat it a little," Anthony wrinkled his nose and the. Introduced himself and Steven before impetuously climbing up to the bottom of Bruce's bed. He was immediately taken with the older man, at the way he held himself and how easy it felt to talk to him. Anthony hadn't been exposed to many older Midgardians in his life. The guardians, sure, but they were authority figures. Trainers. They gave orders and Anthony was expected to follow them. He never saw instruction as a means to help him out actually. Perhaps that ought to have been something instilled in him when he was young but it never had been. Some spirits could not be muted or quelled. And the bright eyed nearly-twenty year old was one of those spirits.

"I know the basics. I lived in the village since I was four. And Steven can run circles around me serving. Literally. I just-- I've never been anywhere else. Does Prince Loki travel a lot? I guess he does. That makes sense. But when you say he has moods--"

Anthony leaned in. Some people had absolutely no sense of physical space. He smelled like lavender and milk and honey. Like a freshly bathed prized pig. One who didn't actually know how to be a pig.

"I learn fast. So just throw it all at me and I promise most of it will stick."

Anthony could be intense when he was passionate. Bruce was in for one hell of a day.

Lucky for both Steven and Anthony, Bruce was an exceptionally intelligent man with a calm manner and a way of explaining things that made it easy to grasp. He had been a royal slave for many years, well before both were born, and this palace felt as much like his home as it did his place of work. He had a quiet pride about him, he loved his work and his masters, and rarely had cause to wish for a different life.

"The first task both of you need to do is familiarise yourself with the palace. Every corridor, every room, every back staircase. You need to know the fastest route from any location to any other location, because if your master calls for you or sends you on a task, that needs to be completed quickly."

He could go through finer points of serving, or what things to never ever touch in Loki's rooms, at a later point since he assumed that he had until Thor's birth celebration to bring them up to scratch.

"The most important one for you to master tonight, Anthony, is the kitchens to the library, or the kitchens to Prince Loki's chambers, because he is often too engrossed in his own studies to join the feast hall for a formal meal. You'll need to anticipate when he should eat and make sure there is food available that's still hot and appetising. How proficient are you at horseback riding and melee combat, you'll need both of those to be Loki's slave."

Bruce couldn't tell whether Anthony would be a good fit for Loki yet, but he could already tell that Steven would be perfect for Thor. He radiated goodness and honesty and eagerness, Thor would undoubtedly love him.

No one undoubtedly loved Anthony. It wasn't that he hated hard work, he just wanted to choose his hard work. That had been easier at the unclaimed village, he was realizing now. Loki would not be easy. Learning to anticipate the needs of others when he himself could become so engrossed in a task that he forgot to go to the gathering hall for food at the appropriate times. He'd often gone hungry. Maybe he could use that to his advantage, though Asgardians had a different immune system and constitution to Midgardians. He could likely go for days without a meal. But would he want to?

Anthony blanched at the thought of horseback, but not at the thought of combat. Battle could be fun. He thought about it often enough because he had always assumed that he would join the foot soldiers instead of the toilets if he was forced to leave the villi age without a master or without being wanted by the large land owners that bought slaves by the cart full to harvest and dispose of when their working capabilities were used up.

"Kitchen to the library and his chambers. Got it. Shit. You know I promised he would never regret picking me. Do you think you can show us where the kitchens are from here? And can I borrow some parchment? I'll make a map."

He wouldn't draw it. He'd just mark down the turns and the approximate amount of steps. His mind was mathematically inclined thankfully.

That was a really stupid promise to make, because no slave could ever be so good that there would never be a regret. Even more so, Loki was an unpredictable element that no other in the palace quite was, he shunned routine and he pushed the boundaries more than any other. Bruce looked a little taken aback, but he just nodded.

"Prince Loki is given to practical jokes and tricks, some of which earn him punishment from the All-Father. You'll need to learn the balance between loyalty to your master, and loyalty to the All-Father. His temper can be legendary, but his generosity to those who treat him well can also be heard whispered of."

Bruce actually had a soft spot for Loki. He could see how the second son felt inferior sometimes, and that his tricks were not often malicious in nature. Sometimes they were, and increasingly so as he grew older, but not always.

"He travels more than Prince Thor and does not always require the Bifrost to do it, so you had better become comfortable with magic very quickly. Sometimes he takes female form, do not comment on it, his magic just allows him to be in whatever form he finds more pleasing that day. Questions?"

This was all delivered as he began to lead them through the corridors towards the kitchens. The palace was a labyrinth, literal miles of corridors and ornate rooms, but Bruce knew them all intimately after so long here.

"I saw him clear away an entire room with the sweep of his hand. Is he a very powerful sorcerer then?" Anthony was sheltered. Anyone in the slave village was. They had little opportunity to visit with true Asgardians and when they did, it was to impress them in hopes of being chosen. Most of the slaves were often just chosen by other slaves, which was a harder sell since beauty or impulse buys (like Anthony thought he was) didn't happen all that often.

Steven kept pace behind them but Anthony boldly walked next to the older slave as if he belonged there. He'd slept through the lessons about pacing one's self evidently to allow the older and wiser to lead the way. He spoke with animated gestures, constantly asking what this or that did or what this or that room was.

Curious. Perhaps to a fault.

"Bruce," he asked, out of turn as they headed down some stairs towards the kitchens. "Did you know my father? He worked in Odin's service. His name was Howard."

He always wondered why he was given up. Most masters kept the children of their favored slaves. Anthony had no idea that his parents did not die of old age. They didn't know that Odin planned to keep him until his Ravens went whispering about his future.

Favoured slave he might have been, but that didn't mean that Bruce was privy to all the secrets of the All-Father's life. He vaguely remembered Howard, but he hadn't even realised that the man had fathered a son, and he had been on Alfheim when he had died and so he hadn't even known the circumstances of his death.

"I met him a few times, but we worked in very different areas of the All-Father's service. I'm not sure there are many people around who might have met him, but from what I remember he was a talented innovator and often worked with the dwarves when they came on specific projects."

Coming to a halt outside the kitchens, Bruce leaned in and lowered his voice a little.

"This is the entrance for slaves or servants collecting meals for the immediate royal family only, come in through here and you'll be served immediately. There's another entrance down the corridor for everyone else who needs meals."

Anthony was a little disappointed. He'd always wanted to meet someone that knew his dad. It was really interesting to learn that he had been an inventor and liaison to dwarves, though. He'd never met a dwarf but Loki might be the most powerful sorcerer in the realm and their travels could take them to all the realms eventually. He was excited. Painfully so.

"What sorts of foods does my master like? Is he picky? What keeps warm the best? How do I make sure he eats? Oh Odin's beard, this jerkin is so tight!" Anthony had too many questions but Bruce proved himself to be kind and patient and Anthony looked at him like a puppy, eyes almost too big for his face.

He gripped Bruce's hand after all of his questions had been answered and tugged him in the direction he assumed the library was. Slaves in black tunics walked passed them, heads tilted curiously at Bruce as he enterained a young slave. That wasn't too strange. He had been mentor to many of them.

"What color ink does Prince Loki write in? Does he need to be reminded about sleep as well? What do I do if he tricks someone important but it's harmless and funny? Am I allowed to laugh?"

Bruce was the best person to mentor anyone, even someone as excitable and headstrong as Anthony. Steven, good student as always, was absorbing all this knowledge without asking too much on top and just trailing the both of them. He made sure to smile at all the other slaves, he was a natural genial person who liked to make friends and if this was to be his home then he wanted to be friends with everyone here.

Anthony got all his questions answered and more - Loki preferred fish, he liked spiced foods, would always take wine over mead, and he probably shouldn't laugh because that would be taken as an offence by most anyone. By the time Bruce delivered Anthony back to Loki's chambers and took Steven off to the barracks where all palace slaves slept, he had been taught much.

Loki was sat inside his chambers when Anthony entered, a book open in front of him and a piece of metal writhing on the table as though as malleable as a snake, green light pulsing in the dim room now that the sun had set and no lights had been lit. He did not even look around when the door opened.

"That's amazing."

In two words, Anthony had managed to put every little criticism in his book, written by instructors and guardians, in the truest of lights. He did not kneel and wait to be called upon. He did not use the time to familiarize himself with the room or with the Prince. He just moved right up to the desk to lean over the edge and peer at the project Loki was engrossed in. And what was more, his words didn't stop. Anthony liked to speak. And Loki preferred his quiet.

"Bruce was very insightful. I know my way to the kitchens and the library now." He was proud of that. Boastful. He was looking for praise, or perhaps he just liked to hear his own accomplishments spoken out loud. "Are you doing metal working or magic? Or both? It's beautiful."

In truth, Loki did not mind not being knelt to when they were alone in his chambers, it was an unnecessary affectation that would slow everything down. But if Anthony failed to give proper respect outside of these chambers, Loki would be singularly humiliated and the slave's life would be forfeit before the day was out. But what caused a frown to mar his brow was the way Anthony spoke to him as though they were friends on an equal footing.

The green light disappeared around the metal, leaving it in a twisted and unnatural shape, and engulfed Anthony instead. He would feel the sharp pain of having his lips sewn with magical thread - a significantly lighter pain than if it had been real thread, there was no blood and no permanent damage.

"We are not childhood friends, Anthony," said Loki in a deceptively quiet voice, clear warning an undertone. "We are not equal, and you do not have the right to question me on any of my activities. I do not plan to be a cruel owner, but never doubt that I am your owner and you may not treat me in so casual a manner. Your spirit is interesting, but be wary that spirit does not become arrogance. Have the intelligence to know your place."

Pain didn’t bother Anthony. No one spared him the rod when he was doing something incorrectly. He even assumed that Loki would punish him if he stepped out of line. He just didn’t expect to be reprimanded already. Or cruelly. The words bit at him more than the magical thread meant to keep his mouth shut. He’d never had a childhood friend, Steven aside, who didn’t count because he was friends with everyone, and so Anthony hadn’t realized he was being so familiar.

It was a huge blow to his ego and prompted a moment of defiance, just a moment, a warring behind his eyes, before he knelt and bowed his head. It was a good thing no one else was here to see this. His instructors would likely tisk and whisper that they knew he was no good and ill suited for this life. He’d ruin his chances just as soon as he had them.

The defiance in his soul shifted instead to desire to prove those people wrong. He let this humiliation teach him that it couldn’t happen again. Not with the prince.

He wasn’t sure how to apologize with his mouth magically clamped shut, so he sat back on his heels and just waited, shoulders slumping. He was making a mess of everything. No wonder Odin gave him away as a child.

Loki did not have many friends either. He had his brother, who was the one he could be sure among his peers who loved him truly, and a quiet but solid friendship with Sigyn. But no others. Amora was a wildfire like him, they could not be true friends because they always looked out for their own interests, and nobody else cared enough about him. They fawned over him if they were of low enough status, making out to be friends to gain favour, but they whispered behind his back and reviled magic.

He may have understood Anthony, but that understanding would have to come in time. He was also a very proud creature who knew his own worth and place in the world, and it would take much time to bring him around to the idea of a friendship with what amounted to property just as much as his books were his property.

"I do not require such obeisance as others may demand, but when we are outside these chambers you must show the proper respect. I will not be shamed by your behaviour, and you will not survive my displeasure in that regard. Some questions may be permitted, I enjoy your enthusiasm, but you must learn what is appropriate."

He flicked his fingers and the invisible thread disappeared once more, leaving Anthony's lips free.

"Are these things understood?"

He had been much more lenient than others would be, and he watched Anthony's face for resentment that he had been punished at all, for that would be deadly in a slave. Nobody could do anything with property that did not understand its place.

Resentment? No. Just sheer and unabashed anger turned inwards at himself. He had never had to try for any of this and that scared him now that he wasn’t equipped to be a good servant. Not that he really wanted to be, of course, but he had to work his way up. There was no one better for this experience than Loki and so Anthony needed to step up his game. Bruce had warned him. Fifteen years of instructions at the unclaimed village had warned him. He needed to do something about his stubbornness, quickly, or he would find himself toiling for the dwarves in ways different from his father.

The sharp snap of pain from his lips caused Anthony to lift his fingers towards them before he nodded. Nodding, however, wasn’t going to cut it this time and he immediately followed that up with a: “yes, my Prince,” perhaps two beats off in his timing. He hoped it didn’t show too badly.

Keeping his mouth shut would be a slight problem, but Anthony was tenacious and he would get what he wanted. Hopefully without getting him killed in the process.

Anthony lifted dark eyes to just watch Loki at his elbow but did not attempt to rise.

"I have never had a personal slave before," said Loki, voice soft as he moved from the chair he had been working on to another, more comfortable chair, long legs crossing over one another as he reclined back. "I never wanted the effort, and most slaves are boring. Far better to have my tasks completed by already trained palace property. You had intelligence and a spark of personality, these were the traits that caused me to choose you, but you must know when to temper them."

He knew that he could provide a good life for his slave, even an enjoyable one, but it would take wisdom to learn when certain things were appropriate. He did not yet know if Anthony possessed that wisdom.

"I told you that I would hold leniency for the week until Thor's birth celebration, and I hold true to that. No more will be spoken of this. Rise. Run to the kitchens and the stables, I wish to ride through the night and both food and mounts must be prepared for us both."

Okay. Yes. Anthony took the warning, took the instruction, and took the order as they were intended…to guide and to lay out what might be expected of him. Loki’s admission that he had never taken a personal servant wasn’t new information for Anthony. He’d figured that out already. And that meant that they would be dealing with this together, finding a way to coexist. It put a little more strain on Anthony, but also took some of the burden off because he didn’t have to follow in anyone’s footsteps and he could never be compared to another either.

Save for Bruce, maybe. Anthony decided to spend all of his free time with the other man to learn what he could. It would be perfect. He could just feel it.

“Of course, my prince,” Anthony said, putting a hand to his chest as he had seen others do, bowing, and stepping twice backwards before he turned to leave. He was a little frantic to the kitchen staff, mostly because he couldn’t tell them exactly what he wanted, but instead said he needed food for a full night’s ride, packed away and easy to transport. “For Prince Loki!” he spat at when he was more or less ignored. That got them going. He found himself laden with two baskets of carefully wrapped food and wine that he would pack away into saddle bags at the stable. He even assisted the groom in preparing Loki’s horse…mostly so he could ask for a shorter mount.

He didn’t want to look foolish climbing on it later.

There weren't many shorter mounts, these were the palace stables and so all the stock was of excellent quality. Asgardian mounts were large anyway, not that Anthony would ever have seen the smaller and meeker Midgardian equivalent, and so the horse he ended up with was a large roan mare who pawed the ground impatiently as she was saddled and bridled, the saddlebags being laid across her rump so that Loki's horse remained unencumbered for riding.

By the time these preparations were made, Loki had appeared in the stables dressed in a cloak with his usual leather clothing beneath, and swung himself up into the saddle as though he had been doing as much since he had been born. Which he very nearly had.

"Come along, Anthony, we must be away quickly, we have a long journey and little time to do it in."

He ignored the stablehand who knelt to him, and simply spurred his horse away, relying on Anthony to follow.

At seventeen hands high, the roan mare was probably the shortest of all of the mounts on offer and so Anthony was pretty happy to select that one instead of the twenty-one handers like Loki’s robust, beautiful and sleek steed. He ended up using a paige for a hand up, or rather a shoulder as Anthony climbed up onto his knee and then his shoulder to jump into the saddle. The horse, who likely thought the antics of the slave were amusing, whinnied before she took off after the other horse at a trot.

Anthony didn’t need to do much to ride. The horse knew her place and Anthony was loose as he watched the fine form of his master from just ahead of him. The outline in the late afternoon sun made Anthony smile.

He couldn’t help but be proud of his new lot in life. There was just a little bit of a hiccup but now? Now he had wind in his hair. They would cross out of the gates, not towards the Bifrost but back towards the village. He hoped everyone would see him as they passed.

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you're up early... or late!

Just woke up having to pee is all. XD

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