Thor Odinson, God of Thunder, King of Asgard (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
pirateangelbaby) wrote2020-06-01 07:48 pm
pirateangelbaby) wrote2020-06-01 07:48 pm
Admitting You Have a Problem
He'd been doing so well before all this. Or at least he thought he had. He'd stopped stashing ale and mead in his living room by the barrel, spent less time drinking and more time going outside and actually trying to tackle the mountain of paperwork that's been building up in the administrative center, even if he hadn't gotten very far. Sure, he'd still drank, but more out of habit than the need to do something, anything with himself. He'd started to get his life back, little by little, struggling to find a new normal and establishing a new routine.
But then Loki left, and there's been no word since.
The children are a delight to have around, and there are times when he feels it's easier to rally himself for their sake, to make sure they're fed and bathed and cared for. As have the ravens, who are growing like mischievous little weeds, both reliant on him and yet also soothing him at times when he is feeling low, hopping into his lap and insisting on being stroked and pampered.
But he is making it up as he goes along. He doesn't know what he's doing, or how much longer he'll need to pretend that he does. And now that he's paying attention, he can tell that there is something still wrong with him, because he's going through his reserves much faster now than he was a few months ago. And he doesn't want to know what will happen if he runs out.
The children are safely under Solvi's watchful eye, under the pretense of helping her around the house while she cares for her baby. Huggan and Miskunn are napping atop a bookshelf, and Thor carefully closes the door behind him as quietly as he can when he leaves. If he's fortunate, maybe he'll be back before they awaken, and they won't scold him for venturing out without them.
By now, he knows his way to the Viper's Pit well. One of the only Nexus establishments to serve drinks strong enough for gods, it's been his primary companion on his descent into his illness, and the steps he's taken to struggle back up. Thor hopes that the other Loki hasn't noticed how many of those barrels have been being shipped to Asvera; he's tried to avoid being there at the same time as the young trickster. Not because he does not want to see him, but because he knows something is not right, and Loki is far too perceptive not to realize that Thor is trying to hide how little he knows what he's doing.
He shouldn't be there now, Thor hopes. He isn't usually, this time of day. The thunderer opens the door to the tavern, and heads inside to pick up the order he'd called ahead.
But then Loki left, and there's been no word since.
The children are a delight to have around, and there are times when he feels it's easier to rally himself for their sake, to make sure they're fed and bathed and cared for. As have the ravens, who are growing like mischievous little weeds, both reliant on him and yet also soothing him at times when he is feeling low, hopping into his lap and insisting on being stroked and pampered.
But he is making it up as he goes along. He doesn't know what he's doing, or how much longer he'll need to pretend that he does. And now that he's paying attention, he can tell that there is something still wrong with him, because he's going through his reserves much faster now than he was a few months ago. And he doesn't want to know what will happen if he runs out.
The children are safely under Solvi's watchful eye, under the pretense of helping her around the house while she cares for her baby. Huggan and Miskunn are napping atop a bookshelf, and Thor carefully closes the door behind him as quietly as he can when he leaves. If he's fortunate, maybe he'll be back before they awaken, and they won't scold him for venturing out without them.
By now, he knows his way to the Viper's Pit well. One of the only Nexus establishments to serve drinks strong enough for gods, it's been his primary companion on his descent into his illness, and the steps he's taken to struggle back up. Thor hopes that the other Loki hasn't noticed how many of those barrels have been being shipped to Asvera; he's tried to avoid being there at the same time as the young trickster. Not because he does not want to see him, but because he knows something is not right, and Loki is far too perceptive not to realize that Thor is trying to hide how little he knows what he's doing.
He shouldn't be there now, Thor hopes. He isn't usually, this time of day. The thunderer opens the door to the tavern, and heads inside to pick up the order he'd called ahead.
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"Yet you would deny me the same." Maybe it's an unfair point to make, but he cannot see how it is different. Not in a way that matters to him. Sure, the demons chasing him into the bottle are not the same as the revels in the golden hall, a joyous celebration of life and death. But from what she has said, from what he knows of how insidiously this strange compulsion has snared him, even this celebratory drinking would be enough to pull him back in. One drink leads to another, and another. That is the way of things. It's never just one.
"Don't... don't misunderstand," he adds, stumbling over his words as he tries to unjumble his thoughts, untangle them from his heart. "I don't want to join them yet. Not anymore. My time will come when the Norns decree it. But it's... lonely. Being the last."
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She lifts her eyes from the table to meet his gaze, her face one of forced calm. "But being in pain isn't an excuse to hide myself in something that destroys my mind and ability to live. I did what I had to survive for a long time, and there's no shame in that. Eventually I learned to let go of that, allowed myself to change into someone who didn't need that same crutch to keep going. It was difficult and I am more for having forced my way through it."
She gestures to his discarded glass of ginger ale and tilts her head slightly. "That is my choice for a drink for celebration, because it's what I like. I'm no less for choosing this for myself rather than a more traditional drink. Maybe it's not for you, but if you know the alcohol is hurting you, it might be time to find its equivalent for yourself." It will be something he needs to do for himself, but he needs to agree to the idea in the first place before she offers that point.
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Perhaps it doesn't have to be forever. Thor already suspects that his willpower alone may not be enough. It hasn't been so far, why would it begin now? Even if he tries, it's no guarantee that it will stick.
She won't drop the matter unless he agrees, he can tell that just by looking at her. What harm will it be to humor her, at least for a little while?
He sighs, and shoves a small handful of crumbled cheese into his mouth. "Guess I should stock up on soda."
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What he says isn't exactly helpful, though, and she can't stop herself from rolling her eyes. "You should find something you want to drink to fill the space left by the alcohol," she retorts, her voice a touch more harsh than she'd like. She sighs and reaches up to touch her hairpin briefly to ground herself. "You could drink water, tea, milk, or any other number of things. Choosing what I like to appease me isn't going to help you through this. If you're not comfortable or happy with the choice, you will fail. It's as simple as that."
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It's not ale or mead, but it's not as bland as water, either. Better to have something with flavor than trying to jump straight to a tall glass of nothing, surely.
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"You've never tried it and you still want to invest in it?" A bold move, to be sure. She arches an eyebrow at him. "We should get you a set of them to find a flavor you like before you buy too much. Perhaps once your stomach is settled enough for a short walk into town?"
The only way out of this is forward, and dreams be damned, she will keep him moving until she's certain he can stand without help.
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He glances over his shoulder, towards the keg that still occupies his house, and grudgingly adds, "And we could take that to the store too."
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Amelia had been expecting Thor to fight her when she insisted they go outside, and the shock shows on her face. She blinks a few times and shakes her head to clear it. "That seems a wise choice," she says softly. This is such an unexpected thing that it takes her a moment longer to recover from that. When she finally manages to get a hold of herself, she nods. "Whenever you're ready, then. We'll head into town together to take care of all this."
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Amelia's surprise at his agreement bothers him a little, uncertain if it's because she expected him to fight a losing battle or simply because she did not think him so weak that he would give in. Contradictory, of course, but rational thought has little say in how he feels about it. He sighs and pushes crumbs around on his plate, unable to decide if he's eaten enough to make her happy, and looks down at himself. "I... should shower."
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It might be too early for jokes like that, but she'd prefer to break the tension of the last while now that the opportunity has presented itself. Getting outside into the sun will likely also help, but she hopes bringing a little levity into the current conversation can move them in the right direction before they head into town.
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He pushes back from the table and leaves her to it, vanishing into the bathroom, which really needs cleaning... ugh. It can wait. Right now he just wants to get clean, to take a moment where he's not under Amelia's gaze and try to get his head in order, and steel himself for the day ahead.