More reactions like this, and maybe Thor will be quicker to lose the lingering awkwardness over breaking from traditional Asgardian gender roles. He’s spent the vast majority of his life as fulfillment of the male ideal, strong and powerful and skilled with magics used for war, not homemaking and husbandry. But as a child, he’d been less concerned about what people thought of him, and there were times in his youth when he’d had reason to use his other magics in times of need. Hallowing land in times of drought, or blessing herds of goats and cattle. Or delivering babies, a handful of times.

Much of the teasing had come from his peers, mostly fellow warriors. Nearly all of them are gone now, and for those that do remain, the Valkyrie stands as an unquestioned example for the people to look up to, despite being a woman. After that, maybe a king with seidr more suited for hearth and home might not be scorned so much.

Either way, Prometheus’ enthusiastic response does little to lessen the blush on his cheeks, even as it lightens his spirit. “It’s not exactly something I’m known for these days,” he mutters into his drink, but he still looks pleased not to be teased about it. “My mother, she was the goddess of motherhood, among other things. I inherited it from her. Though the storm helps too, when it comes to drought and the like.” Six short years is not enough time to fully banish the grief of losing her, but at least it’s an older grief, one he has plenty of practice handling.

If there’s one thing that Thor does not hold in question, it’s Prometheus’ ability to make friends. “You’d find no shortage of open doors here,” he assures his friend, thinking on all those that the titan had helped shelter during those first harrowing weeks after... well, after. “I should introduce you to Korg sometime,” Thor says out loud, before he can follow that train of thought too closely. “He’s the friendly type, very easy-going, though he has been having a bit of trouble with low ceilings with these Midgardian houses.”