Thor Odinson, God of Thunder, King of Asgard (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
pirateangelbaby) wrote2023-08-17 04:39 pm
pirateangelbaby) wrote2023-08-17 04:39 pm
Ex Marks the Spot [for rogueinladysclothing]
The summer sun is high in the sky when the little rental car turns the corner around the coast and up the narrow bridge onto the islands of Asvera. The rainbow paint on the concrete has been refreshed and augmented with something that makes it shimmer, though it's still a pale comparison to the rainbow bridge of Asgard. The driver has little room to contemplate that however, instead inching forward at a snail's pace while they stare around at the sleepy little fishing village.
There have been significant modifications made since Asgard's arrival, of course. Several of the outlying islands have been terraformed into housing, and towers of Wakandan and Asgardian design make up much of the new buildings. Handpainted signs point toward the administrative center, still based in an overhauled church, though symbols of Asgardian make have replaced all the existing iconography. It's no gleaming golden palace, and now that they've thought of it, they notice there hasn't been a single figure in armor guarding anything that looks important.
Is this the right place? It has to be, right?
The clothes on the villagers, at least, looks familiar. Fancy robes and dresses, embroidered tunics and embossed belts, though the styles are sometimes an odd mishmash with Earth dress. The hairstyles, too, are another reassurance. Few people on Earth have the time for this level of braiding for casualwear, and enough people are going about their daily trades that it's clear this isn't a special occasion, either.
It's the right place indeed. But the wrong time.
The young man at the reception desk in the admin center helpfully reveals that Thor is not currently in town. The visitor's shoulders slump, and they leave the rental car behind as they wander down the road, contemplating their next move. Wait for him to arrive, knowing that it could be hours? Even days? Leave a note, 'sorry I missed you,' and continue embodying those ships that pass in the night?
The sound of clanging metal and grunts of effort echo down the street, drawing their attention. There's little open land available in Asvera, but the Asgardians have made good use of what they have. A training ring has been established along the northern waterfront, large enough for several dozen people to run drills and skirmish with each other, separated from the main walkway by a split-rail fence. The trainees are lightly armored in leather, armed with carved wooden swords and shields, men and women and children alike. The woman at the head of the class has clearly done this a time or two; her armor is battleworn and well fitted, and her blade moves like an extension of her own arm.
Jane Foster leans against the fence to watch, the memory of Asgard in its glory fresh in her mind as she struggles to process what she's seeing now.
There have been significant modifications made since Asgard's arrival, of course. Several of the outlying islands have been terraformed into housing, and towers of Wakandan and Asgardian design make up much of the new buildings. Handpainted signs point toward the administrative center, still based in an overhauled church, though symbols of Asgardian make have replaced all the existing iconography. It's no gleaming golden palace, and now that they've thought of it, they notice there hasn't been a single figure in armor guarding anything that looks important.
Is this the right place? It has to be, right?
The clothes on the villagers, at least, looks familiar. Fancy robes and dresses, embroidered tunics and embossed belts, though the styles are sometimes an odd mishmash with Earth dress. The hairstyles, too, are another reassurance. Few people on Earth have the time for this level of braiding for casualwear, and enough people are going about their daily trades that it's clear this isn't a special occasion, either.
It's the right place indeed. But the wrong time.
The young man at the reception desk in the admin center helpfully reveals that Thor is not currently in town. The visitor's shoulders slump, and they leave the rental car behind as they wander down the road, contemplating their next move. Wait for him to arrive, knowing that it could be hours? Even days? Leave a note, 'sorry I missed you,' and continue embodying those ships that pass in the night?
The sound of clanging metal and grunts of effort echo down the street, drawing their attention. There's little open land available in Asvera, but the Asgardians have made good use of what they have. A training ring has been established along the northern waterfront, large enough for several dozen people to run drills and skirmish with each other, separated from the main walkway by a split-rail fence. The trainees are lightly armored in leather, armed with carved wooden swords and shields, men and women and children alike. The woman at the head of the class has clearly done this a time or two; her armor is battleworn and well fitted, and her blade moves like an extension of her own arm.
Jane Foster leans against the fence to watch, the memory of Asgard in its glory fresh in her mind as she struggles to process what she's seeing now.
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"It's a lot of responsibility for one person," she murmurs, her own expression nervous, "but if no one expects me to take it all on the day we marry, it should be all right with some amount of delegation and help. I can learn those things that come next as I need to, or look over a list if someone can provide it. With enough time, I'm certain I can find everyone I need who can answer my questions." Her many hundreds of questions that she'll inevitably have.
"The paperwork doesn't bother me at all, or picking up more around Asvera itself. I'll even speak to local authorities or governments as necessary. I've done such things before for my family on many occasions, and the scale of the paperwork here isn't so bad when Asvera is still growing and I've come up with processes that make sense to me." It helps that she got to take things on slowly from Thor over several months and that no one's stepped in to stop her. With all of her own knowledge and experience at play, people have mostly been very forgiving of her missteps and what they might think of as eccentricities. Her work certainly speaks enough for itself that she doesn't have to justify how and why she does things as she does for long.
But Disablot... that brings up another important matter to discuss, one that's closely bound to expectations.
"I will need help with learning the traditions I'll be expected to be head of, even if it's while I'm at your side. I've never been a religious or spiritual person, and I want to be certain I don't cause any offense. If that means I need to step aside and allow others to handle things, I'll gladly do so. All I want is for things to go well, and I'm not so proud as to suggest that means I have to be the one to do everything."
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He cannot regret that things did not play out as such, however. In the years since, he's come to recognize how unprepared he'd truly been, too eager to ascend the throne for glory's sake. He was still unprepared when Ragnarok came, but he had gone into it eyes open, and he is not the first king of Asgard to take the throne after his predecessor's death.
He's expecting Amelia to take well to the broader scope of political duties, particularly since she's so close to performing many of them anyway. Since the early days, she's been deeply involved in Asvera's functions, both in performing petty labor where needed to arranging fishing fleet maintenance. The female-led rituals, however... it's easy to see why that would make her anxious, and he gives her hand another soft kiss before returning their clasped hands to their position between them both. "Of course. You can ask the Valkyrie to teach you. I'm afraid most of the rituals in question are meant to be led by women, so I haven't learned many of the finer details myself. But know this: our traditions are not so set in stone that they cannot be changed, if the old ways no longer apply. What matters is we give respect to the spirits of the land, honor those who came before us, and cherish what we have."
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It won't matter if she's fully comfortable soon enough. She'll need to take on so much more to be queen and Allmother. She can do it, but it doesn't stop her from being scared about doing it wrong enough times that she angers their people before she finally gets it right.
She nods slowly, gripping at his hands with her own. "I'll talk to her, and anyone else who might be able to help me. I..." She sighs softly, frowning. "I don't want to change everything simply because I don't know or understand what's been done in the past. To honor who and what came before me, I need to know them. It's not entirely possible on my own, so I'll do what I must to get the help I need. I want to try rebuilding what's been lost so we can know if it's truly best to make changes or better to reach for what's gone still. It feels important to honor Asgard in that way."
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It's a complicated question with a thousand different opinions, and Thor is certain they will be grappling with it for centuries to come. But it is now that the seeds will be sown, and decisions they make now will ripple forward to those distant days, shaping the future of their people.
"Of course," he agrees again. "No tree grows tall til it roots itself in solid earth. I'll ask the school if there are any lessons we could borrow, perhaps. Our children are not born knowing how to mark the seasons either, after all." And though he means the children of Asgard as a whole, a quiet part of him can't help but picture a more intimate interpretation of our. Might they have her hair? His eyes?
He strokes the back of her hand again, an absent soothing circle, his metal hand's touch as light and gentle as the living one. "And what of your expectations?" he asks softly, raising his eye from their clasped hands to meet hers directly. "My duties to you?"
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It's a question far outside anything she's ever had reason to consider. Marriage was never meant to be hers, or so she was certain for a decade back home, and that same certainty came with her to the Nexus, to Asvera. She doesn't know what people expect of their spouses, much less what a queen should expect of her king. Her lips press into a thoughtful line as she thinks on it for the very first time, and she can think of nothing that doesn't feel as if it's asking too much. She doesn't consider herself in this way, something he knows very well, but she has to. For the sake of their relationship, she must put herself first, at least a little.
"I don't know," she admits with a sigh. "As I said, this is... something I never thought to have, and so I never cared to learn what other people do or want for their marriages. I never watched my parents like that, and I never thought to ask any of my friends - our friends - about it." Now she's left feeling like she's failing him already. She sighs again and looks down at their connected hands.
"What I do know is that I don't want to be separated from you, and for no one to force you to look for another to stand at your side while I'm still here. You hold my heart, and it's--" Dreams, this is difficult to think, much less say. "It's unfair to ask me to set aside my love and feelings for the sake of the future. We only have so much time together, and I don't want to be an afterthought even when I'm confined to our home due to age and frailty."
There's more to it than only that, and there are other thoughts attempting to form in her head, but this is the most important part of what she's feeling. Fairness isn't a thing anyone in life is guaranteed, but if she's going to play a part as large as their union requires, she wants at least some given in her direction.
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It's painful to think of that future, knowing that it will come sooner than either of them want, but the days between will be filled with such joy that he would rather embrace her now than hold himself apart in cold loneliness.
"For my part," he adds, touching his forehead to hers again, "I expect only your love, and for you to speak your mind as you will. And... that you do not resent me for my longer days, that I cannot grow old with you."
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Perhaps he doesn't know it, or know all of it, but someday he will. She'll tell him and remind him every day once she figures out how. Even if he doesn't think so, she knows how much he deserves to hear how his strong heart helps lift hers up.
"I don't want you to hold yourself back when I'm gone," she tells him, lifting a hand to rest on his cheek. "But I trust you'll not forget me, and that you'll love and care for any children we may have. If that's not to be for us, then I trust you'll care for our people the same as I have since they day I first met them."
She leans into the press of his forehead and nuzzles him gently, her smile warm if a little rueful. "I would never ask that of you. Those of Asgard are long-lived, and they need a king who is, too. They need you here to see them through the first dozen of many generations at least, and I would rather bolster you to face that than demand you follow me into the dark of death." She takes a little breath and strokes his cheek with her thumb. "I could never resent you for being who and what you are. Not as your friend, even less so as your love, and impossibly as your wife. I chose this life with you, and I know what it means for you to choose it, too. I need you to live after I'm gone, for me and everyone you've ever loved and will love."
For her. For Loki. For Frigga. For their people. For their friends. For their children. For the future they're about to make. Together.
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All of them have changed him, marked his soul in ways that can never be erased. Even if Amelia were to die tomorrow, she is a part of him now, and always will be.
"I suppose we could always build you a statue, just to be sure," he adds, a light teasing note in his voice. Yet he knows that in a hundred years from now, there might well be such a monument to his beloved, carved in stone to endure the long march of days beyond his own.
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A legacy that will long outlive her. One that will carry her memory and see that she's never forgotten. Dreams, she never expected such a thing to be guaranteed, and yet...
There will be much to discuss with her therapist in the coming months. Everything they've talked about today among it all. She hopes they have some of it unraveled by the time they finally wed, whenever that will be.
His teasing pulls her from her thoughts with a soft laugh and a flush of her cheeks. "Not one of me alone, I hope. Whatever I do here is never by my hands alone. I'd rather those I build with be honored with me, even if I'm reaching to those already gone to do so." There's surely something of Frigga's left behind that she can look to for guidance in being queen and Allmother. Maybe even some sort of recording or way to see her memories? Such magics have been mentioned in the Nexus, so maybe Asgard has similar?
One step at a time. They still have other things to work out before that becomes important.
"What else is it we should discuss before we take next steps? I know the rest of your day is free to use as you please, and I have nowhere else I want to be today. Even if we can't speak of everything, I'd gladly cover whatever we can so we don't have to wait too long before we move ahead with our plans." A beat, and her cheeks turn a darker red. "Not that I'm rushing you, I swear. I only want this-- I mean that I don't want us to wait too long for... for us to make this official."
Oh that is not better now that it's out of her mouth, but she had to try. At least she's being honest about all of this? She isn't in a hurry, but waiting too long feels a waste of the precious time they have left with one another.
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His small smile stays, but there's a sadness in his eye as he searches her face, a truth they need to speak of. Amelia has already come to learn what it would mean to be queen and Allmother, though it will need time to truly settle into her mind and heart. But Thor is not sure if she's thought what it would mean to have children with an Asgardian, not when the idea is still so new to her, when she's barely considered being a mother at all. "If we are blessed with children, you should know that you will not see them grown," he tells her, reluctance on his tongue. He does not want to think of such things, nor ruin her happiness, but denying the inevitable will only lead to greater heartbreak. How can she choose for herself, if she does not understand what will come of it?
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She huffs a small laugh as a thought occurs to her. If needs be, she'd be paying her own dowry. What a strange place her life has led her if she's to do something like that for herself.
But she doesn't speak her small realization aloud, focusing instead on his words. This is another one of her fears, though she's kept it locked further away from her heart in those few moments she allowed herself to think of children with Thor before today. It's harder to swallow than knowing the man she loves will live on long after she passes.
"I know. I've seen the children born to mixed parentage here, and I know their aging is slowed like all of Loki's children." Children who will be children long after she can't run after them or carry them any longer. Children she'll have to teach what she knows while they're still too young, if she has any hope of passing along what knowledge she has that should be retained. It hurts to know this, but acknowledging it is important.
A soft, thoughtful frown settles on her lips. "It will hurt to know I can't be there for them as they grow, but I don't want to hold myself back from trying. If we marry, I want to try. I'll... need your support, but I want to try this with you." A beat as she grips his hands gently. "But only if you'll be all right carrying on for them without me." It will be just as painful for him, if not more so, to live without her at his side, and she doesn't want to subject him to being father to their children alone for centuries if he's uncertain about taking that responsibility on.
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Hmm. He'd better speak to his brother soon, actually. If Loki feels he's been slighted by being forgotten in all this, he's liable to resort to pranks, no matter how agreeable he's been in recent years. And that besides, Thor will want him there regardless. Both because Loki may recall more of royal wedding traditions than Thor does, and simply because Thor has always dreamed of his family standing at his side at such a milestone.
What Amelia asks next is something that, like her, he's not allowed himself to think on. Hard enough to contemplate losing Amelia one day, inevitable as the tides. He's always known it deep down, but picturing his life without her, raising their children on his own... could he do it? Probably. Any such children would be a piece of her, living on with him long after her pyre burns. But Thor has also known more grief and heartbreak than he'd ever expected to know, and he remembers well how easily it can drown a man in loss's wake. How can he say now, in this moment, that he knows what those days will hold for him?
But now is not a time for answers etched in stone, nor agreements made to bind. What matters is knowing the question, and beginning the search for the answer, no matter how long it takes.
He closes his eye for a moment, taking in a breath before opening it again, leaning forward to touch his forehead against hers, warm and solid. "I don't know," he admits quietly. "I don't want to lose you at all, but I must, one day."
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She frowns softly at his words. Expected as the last are, the first are painful to be reminded of. What they haven't isn't forever, or even for very long. They have a few decades at most, time enough to fall deeply in love only to lose it when death inevitably comes for her. There's no pushing back against it. There's no battle to fight that can be won. This will happen, and they'll both suffer for it. Him far more than her, but still... still it will hurt when she nears the end of her life and she knows she's going to dream alone for the rest of eternity.
Only... she's not certain of that anymore. With all ties to her world lost, she has no idea where her mind will go when she dies. Into nothingness? Into someone else's afterlife? To Thor's? She doesn't know, and now's not the time to ask when they have much more important things to focus on.
"It will be a sad day when we lose one another, but I will be glad for every other day I've had with you." She frees a hand to rest it along his cheek, closing her eyes to fall into the comfort of being close like this. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked something like this of you. It's unfair of me, knowing how much more you'll have to carry when I'm gone. You don't have to answer now. We have plenty else to talk on before any plans are made for our lives."
Her plans to love and marry him haven't changed because of this. They have time to decide if they even want children before they try for them. This doesn't need to be settled today when so many other, more important things have been brought up.
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It's no more than he's asked her to consider, knowing what it would mean to be queen and Allmother. It's just as much that he consider what his days will be beyond her life, what it will mean to all those left behind, not just himself.
"If only my dreams would tell me of brighter days," he adds with a small smile, a gentle jest to lift the mood, though not an untruthful one. "But I suppose I will have to wait to experience them day by day as I live them, together with you. That alone will be a treasure worth cherishing."
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"I'll cherish every day with you, good or bad. The same as I have every day we've had until now." Her smile warms as she brushes her thumb across his cheek. "I don't mind not knowing what's to come. My life has always felt like it was in my hands and best experienced by living it. That hasn't changed since we fell in love. Every day is an opportunity to exist and live as best we can, and that's all I truly need in my life with you." Everything else is simply a blessing she'll take exactly as it is.
Slowly, she opens her eyes to look up at him, then gently presses her lips to his cheek. "We'll face every day together for as long as we can. While I draw breath, at your side is where I want to be."
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"Then you truly are stuck with me," he murmurs, turning his head to capture her lips with his own before she can pull away again. "Til the day you perish, or I do."