Thor Odinson, God of Thunder, King of Asgard (
pirateangelbaby) wrote2019-06-15 09:04 am
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Even a God Can Need a Friend [Open to friends]
[OOC: This post and its threads may contain Endgame spoilers. Potential trigger warnings include depression, alcohol abuse, and suicidal thoughts. (See the bottom section of Thor's updated permissions page for more detail on relevant warnings, Thor’s triggers, and a disclaimer about his narration style.) If you intend to tag Thor and are sensitive to this kind of content, please let me know before we begin so that I can provide a safer roleplay experience for you. Individual threads on this post will not be warned for on a case by case basis.
Thor has left his current address with the remaining Avengers, Loki (
coldsong), Prometheus (
liverfree), and Sif (
lady_sif). Other close friends are welcome to visit by getting coordinates from those listed, which may be done offscreen (of the Avengers, Rocket is the most likely to be out and about in the Nexus right now) - if in doubt, please ask the relevant mun. This post is intended to provide Thor with moral support as he grapples with his mental health; each thread will be treated as though it is a different day entirely so his mood and the immediate setting may vary. I do not mind slow tags, and this post will be perpetually open for a long while, so don't worry if you can't get to it right away but still want to play.]
Above the Arctic Circle, in the far north of Norway, the village formerly known as Henningsvær sprawls out across a tiny chain of islands. Despite the approach of summer, the weather is cool and overcast, sea breezes often sweeping through the narrow streets. For those approaching by road, the small single-lane bridge leading from the mainland now boasts a hand-painted sign in Norsk and Asgardian runes welcoming visitors to Asvera, which the local humans have taken to calling New Asgard. Population: 832.
Though much of the world still feels half-empty and apocalyptic, there is little of that here. Asgard has filled the empty spaces, each house claimed and occupied, as well as several hotels that once served seasonal tourists. Fishing boats come and go from the harbor, dock workers hard at work learning to repair nets and lines, others processing the day’s catch for consumption. There is no market, no selling of goods; everything is distributed communally through the grocery on the main island, every citizen entitled to a share, every citizen expected to work to support the others, save for the children who are too young.
The village is quiet, but busy. There is always work to be done, or new skills to learn to survive in their new home. The king, however, may not be so easy to find. Here in the tiny Norwegian village, there is no golden palace to give visitors a place to start looking. Perhaps it’s best to ask for directions.
Thor has left his current address with the remaining Avengers, Loki (
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Above the Arctic Circle, in the far north of Norway, the village formerly known as Henningsvær sprawls out across a tiny chain of islands. Despite the approach of summer, the weather is cool and overcast, sea breezes often sweeping through the narrow streets. For those approaching by road, the small single-lane bridge leading from the mainland now boasts a hand-painted sign in Norsk and Asgardian runes welcoming visitors to Asvera, which the local humans have taken to calling New Asgard. Population: 832.
Though much of the world still feels half-empty and apocalyptic, there is little of that here. Asgard has filled the empty spaces, each house claimed and occupied, as well as several hotels that once served seasonal tourists. Fishing boats come and go from the harbor, dock workers hard at work learning to repair nets and lines, others processing the day’s catch for consumption. There is no market, no selling of goods; everything is distributed communally through the grocery on the main island, every citizen entitled to a share, every citizen expected to work to support the others, save for the children who are too young.
The village is quiet, but busy. There is always work to be done, or new skills to learn to survive in their new home. The king, however, may not be so easy to find. Here in the tiny Norwegian village, there is no golden palace to give visitors a place to start looking. Perhaps it’s best to ask for directions.
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Stepping out of a portal atop a hill above the city, the rogue has to take a moment to ground herself.
It was so strange to see the sea again. To look out over the horizon and know that the other side was so far that it wasn't possible to reach it with her own two feet. It takes the breath from her lungs as she stares out at the deep blue waters and breathes in the heady scent of salt and life that exist only in places like this. Turning from it feels impossible, and for a few moments the rogue allows herself to dwell on thoughts of the place that was once her home and how much this place makes her ache for that.
But she's not here for herself today. If anything, she's here for the distraction that helping others will bring. Thor has suffered as much as Steve, and that helps keep Amelia's thoughts where they need to be.
Tucking her hands into the pockets on the inside of her light cloak, the rogue makes her way down the hillside toward the center of the town. Every step feels like one closer to where she came from before running into the Nexus, and it brings an unwitting smile to her face as she watches the Asgardians at work in the market and out on the harbor. Her fingers twitch with excitement at the prospect of doing things she grew up learning and watching, and she eventually takes down the fancy braid crown she did for herself to put her hair into a more laid-back, over-the-shoulder French braid that's better suited to the work she hopes is ahead of her.
"Excuse me," she calls softly as she approaches the market. A few faces turn to her, and she finally remembers to quiet her smile into something more appropriate for the mood of the city. "I'm an acquaintance of Thor and I was told I might be able to help you all while you settle into your new home. Do you have anything you need assistance with until I find him?"
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One of the Asgardians she speaks to is a young man, maybe twenty years old by human standards, his long hair pulled back in a messy bun, and his beard trimmed close to his jawline. His clothes are almost all Earth in style, jeans and a rugged jacket, though his boots are heavily worn Asgardian leather. Like most she's seen, there's a somber sort of air around him, but he meets her eye without hesitation and looks her over. The need for extra hands is less dire than it was when they first arrived, but there's still more than enough work to go around. "I haven't seen the king today, but if he isn't at his house, he may be at the greenhouse," he tells her, slightly apologetic. "If you want to work... what's your trade? Are you any good at identifying plants? Many of the local herbs are strange to us and we don't know what they do."
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The work she's offered is as close to perfect for her as it could be in a place like this. Dreams, she can be truly useful to these people. The thought warms her smile and she nods as she takes a few steps closer to the young man who spoke. "My family's business is spice trading. If you show me the plants and herbs that are unfamiliar to you, I can identify them for you and teach anyone who has the time to hear it." She tucks her fingers into fists and clenches them tightly to keep from getting ahead of herself. "Can someone show me where these plants are? If no one has time to stay with me today, I can harvest some and bring them back to explain over a meal later. If any of them interest your people, I can return and teach as many as you'd like everything I know."
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Which mountain he means should be fairly obvious, as it rises out of the mainland just on the other side of the bridge that links it to the islands of Asvera. It is not a terribly tall or steep mountain, something that could be summitted by a dedicated hiker within an hour or two, and though it's quite rocky there is a great deal of green flourishing at its base and on its slopes.
He doesn't offer a handshake, since that's an Earth custom. Instead he bows slightly, respectfully. "My name is Vidar, son of Stian. Might I have yours, my lady?"
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"If you can," she begins after they're a bit further out from the crowd, "can you tell me what needs you're hoping to have met with the plants that grow here? I can focus my search on those that would be most useful to you today if I know ahead of time, and I can come back to look through the rest another day." Whether or not that ends up happening, Amelia already knows she'll be back. From the general look of the village, the Asgardians are still getting set up and settling into their new home, and that's something she feels confident she can help with. This is like the place her heart wishes was still home and any knowledge she can pass on to those who actually do live here is something she feels should be done.
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"Healing herbs are the highest priority, at the moment. Midgardian medicine is tailored for human bodies, not Asgardian, and Lady Eir does not know if they will be useful to us." That's not the part he is hesitant about, however, and he visibly chews on the thought for a moment before he lowers his voice, as if divulging something confidential, or shameful. "If there are herbs that treat maladies of the mind, Lady Eir wants those most of all."
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"We'll have to see what's on the mountain itself, but have you heard of the flowers called lavender or chamomile? They may have other names locally, but both are good for soothing the mind and helping to relax the body. I can't promise they'll have the effect your healer is hoping for, but many people I've met speak of feeling lighter after drinking a tea made from either."
The idea may be one given in vain, but it's worth a try. These people have been through a lot in the past few months and anything to relieve their burdens, if only for a little while, is something that shouldn't be discounted.
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“There may be some growing further down the mainland road,” he adds, looking back toward the curving path that follows the shore and winds around the mountain. “I saw purple flowers down that way before we set out.”
Once they reach the greener parts of the mainland, Vidar will stick relatively close to Amelia, calling out new plants he does not recognize for her to come identify for him. Those she deems medically - or culinarily - useful, he takes a cutting of, and wraps it in cloth before stashing it in his pack. Anything she cannot identify will likewise be sampled and stowed in a separate pack pocket for later testing.
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Once they're actually foraging for plants, Amelia points out everything she can think of. Dandelions, juniper, sage, henbane, among several others. There are still a dozen or more than Amelia doesn't know, but she takes a picture of each as Vidar collects them and assures the man that she'll investigate the names and properties of each of them once she returns to the Nexus. The library there will have everything she needs to at least find out the names and what the people of Earth use the plants for.
It takes over an hour for the rogue to exhaust everything the two of them are able to find easily. They're turning back toward the village when she suddenly stops Vidar with a word and then motions for him to follow as she steps out into the knee high grasses off one side of the road. Ahead of Amelia is a small patch of small white and yellow flowers, which she crouches down to examine once close enough. She picks a single flower from the group, rubs a white petal between her fingers long enough to destroy it, then touches her finger to her tongue to taste it. A bright smile comes over her face and she quickly turns to Vidar.
"This," she says, pointing to the flowers, "is chamomile. If there's some growing here, there's likely to be more spread throughout this field and downwind from this area. A bit more exploration of the area will be necessary to find it, but I'm confident there's at least a few more flowers hiding among the grasses."
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Though now that he is thinking of seeds, perhaps it’d be wise to stop at the greenhouse on the way into the village, to see if there are any herbs among them. The little glass-walled building is newly built, set quite near the road as it enters the main island, its panes fogged with moisture. Inside, rich dark earth blooms green with potato plants and onion greens, and beanstalks climbing chicken wire frames. More seedling crops are too young yet to be identified at a glance, just barely poking up from the soil, and in the center of it all, Thor is kneeling with his eye closed, his real hand buried in the dirt. He doesn’t seem to notice that he is no longer alone, at first.
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The greenhouse itself is a work of art unlike anything Amelia's ever encountered before. She's read about them fairly extensively, but she's never actually been inside of one, much less one that's producing so well so soon after its construction. It's an impressive sight, one that captures her attention long enough that it takes her a few extra seconds before she nods to Vidar for his assistance and steps closer to Thor.
"It's beautiful," she says softly, taking care to avoid startling him. "Not just this building, but all of it. The mountains, the town, the sea..." She exhales a soft breath and kneels beside Thor, a warm smile on her face. "You've found a wonderful place to begin again with your people."
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Blue wisps of magic pool around Thor's fingers, seeping into the dirt like water, and if Amelia is watching she may note how the seedlings flourish in response. Growing taller, spreading outward, sprouting leaves which unfurl and reach up toward the cloud-shrouded sun, revealing themselves to be rhubarb and cabbage, basil and dill. On their makeshift trellis, the bean vines crawl higher and flower buds begin to bloom, the potato plants blossoming shortly after, and the base of the onions turning a healthy, papery brown.
The soft scrape of her footstep is enough to alert Thor that he has company, and the seidr trickles to a halt as Thor turns his head to see who's there, surprise flickering in his eye when he recognizes the visitor. Her words are even moreso, and he has to take a moment to process how to respond, sitting back on his heels and absently brushing the dirt from his hands, flesh and metal alike. A smile does not come as easily to his lips, but he tries, mild homesickness stirring in his belly. "It'll do," he agrees quietly, looking past her for a moment at the village outside the glass walls, trying not to compare it to the splendor of Asgard-that-was. Trying to see the beauty that she sees, rather than the invisible loss that he does.
The movement of Thor's hands against one another has become less about cleaning off dirt and more about soothing his nerves, now, and he returns his gaze to her, although he doesn't hold eye contact as he used to. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were coming. I would've... you know." Cleaned up, maybe, although even Thor doubts he would have.
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She shakes her head when he speaks, her smile tugging wider across her face. "No need to apologize. This is a busy place and I took the chance to help as best I could." She only hopes it's as helpful as she'd like it to be.
Turning her head briefly to the door, she holds in a content sigh as she thinks over her time here. "I got to know a young man, Vidar, fairly well as I helped him identify and collect herbs and plants from the mountains the grasses around the town. He seems a good, stout young man, eager to put himself to work for the sake of all." It's noble - something she's unused to after years of selfish actions - and worthy of far more praise than Amelia can manage.
With a bit of shifting, she moves to sit on one hip with her legs out beside her. "Please, don't let me interrupt you," she says, motioning to the flourishing garden around them. "I'm happy to watch until you're done with your work. I've never seen magic like this and it's..." Dreams, it feels awkward to use the word again, but it's all that comes to mind. "It's beautiful, and beyond any words I could use to describe it."
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"He's... he's a good kid." Never mind that Vidar is only a handful of centuries younger than Thor; there are so few elders left that everyone in the village seems too young for this life. Even Thor himself is only fifteen hundred, give or take a few years. These days, he feels much older than he is. He wouldn't be surprised to find his growing hair coming in silver, one of these days. Then he'd really start to look like his father. Thor shakes himself free of that line of thought, however, and musters up a small smile. "Maybe he'll be the village alchemist, after all this."
His gaze follows her gesture to the garden, and his cheeks flush, self-conscious. "Oh, this is..." It is exactly what it looks like, of course, but thousands of years of cultural gender norms are not so easily shaken off, no matter how little sense they make at this stage. "It's fertility magic," he says instead, as if saying it out loud might make it easier. "I haven't used it this much in a long time."
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"Fertility magic?" That would explain why she's never seen or read about its like. All of her studies have focused on elemental and defensive magics - anything like what Thor is doing now is far outside anything she even realized existed. But now he's made her curious, and her curiosity is something that's hard to let go of when she feels so... at home in a place. "How does it work? Do you instruct the plants to grow? Or is it something more simple than that?"
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But not all is lost. As far as they know, there are still masters of the craft on Alfheim and Vanaheim, and once Thor can bear to venture elsewhere in Yggdrasil on his own, maybe he could find one to take on an apprentice or two. But that would require both making himself presentable and leaving his people behind, and Thor is not yet ready for that. So he just hums a little in agreement, and says nothing more on the matter.
Fortunately for them both, Amelia's line of questioning is making it more difficult for Thor to lose himself in such melancholy thoughts, at least for the moment. Aside from a pang of old grief, a loss he's come to terms with years ago, as he remembers the woman he inherited this particular talent from. "I'm not sure how to describe it," he admits, absently worrying his hands against one another. "It's... it's more instinct than learned. My mother..." His voice wavers a moment, but he presses on without pause. "She was the goddess of childbirth and the hearth, and passed on this gift to me." Particular talents passed down through bloodlines is not exactly uncommon, but certain disciplines have traditionally been thought to be more suited to one gender than the other, and promising talent sometimes ignored or suppressed in favor of keeping the status quo.
Thor has been lucky to be a god of storms as well, his raw elemental seidr as suited to bringing fertility to the land as his more feminine talents. But he has never lived it to its full potential, not before such distinctions have become so utterly pointless in favor of saving what little knowledge they have left to share. So while he is not entirely at ease with using such power openly, he's not opposed to it. Not anymore.
Amelia's naked curiosity and complete lack of laughter helps too, of course. He gives it some real thought, now, looking down at the greenery around his knees. "It's like... all life has an... energy," he begins, slow as he considers how to phrase it and certain that he's still falling short. "The younger the life, the more potential it has to grow and flourish, if nurtured properly. My seidr... provides that. Takes that potential and gives it what it needs to reach it."
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More distracting than all of that is the explanation of how it works. To unlock the future of something that's already destined or likely to occur is such an incredible power. Where Amelia can only bring death and destruction - and sometimes protection for things that already live, if she can manage the spell that day - Thor can bring life. He can take the seeds of it and make it into something more. It's incredible, and she's not certain he sees that the way she does. Her awe and wonder are written in her face, in the way her eyes widen as he speaks and her smile seems to become impossibly bright. This... this is the kind of gift people would kill for, even if they had no way to use it at the start.
"You shape the lives of everything you touch with this magic." It's not an accusation or a call to action; It's a statement of what she understands as truth. "You could save an entire people with this gift simply by helping them grow food in the worst of conditions. It's amazing."
She hesitates for a moment when she realizes how close that statement hits in their current circumstances. Without Thor's magic, this place won't be able to flourish and survive. Her cheeks turn bright pink and she looks down at her hands as embarrassment and shame come over her. Maybe she got a little too eager for her own good again.
"I'm sorry, I didn't think before I spoke. All I meant is that I think your gift is beautiful and important, and something that should be treasured." She exhales a soft breath before looking up at him with a rueful smile. "I truly hope this helps your people. You've found a good place to start fresh with them, and I think what you're doing here will give this home what it needs to thrive."
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The garden, at least, is one place he can still do something good. Something helpful. Even if it does not make up for what he has done.
Amelia's words do strike at his heart, and his metal fingers creak a little as he curls them in on themselves. You could save an entire people. But he hadn't, in the end. He sees it every day when he looks at the village, when he thinks of the empty spaces across the rest of the planet, the universe. Thor can encourage new growth, new life, plants and fish and fowl to take the spaces of that turned to dust, and healthy babies for the survivors. But he can't restore what was lost, and that is the failure that strikes him deepest of all.
He knows she didn't mean it that way, even before the apology, and he manages a smile that doesn't quite reach his eye. "Thank you. I... I hope it does too." He can't help but feel guilty for his ingratitude, the way he finds hurt in words meant to praise, his brighter mood dimmed. Just one more way he is still failing.
He shoves it down, even more loathe to ruin her youthful enthusiasm with his weakness, and forces his fists to uncurl. "If you want to watch," he says, trying to sound as though nothing is wrong, "you should know, it might affect you too. It's... not something fine-tuned."
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If it were... the rogue would have drowned long before she found the Nexus. She can't teach others to justify the ends with whatever means are necessary in the moment, but she hopes she can help lift people from their sadness. In a place this beautiful, this... perfect, there's no room for self-pity and misery. Grief will linger as long as it needs to, but that doesn't mean the rest of the heavy emotions should have a reason to take hold.
But that's a conversation to hold another time. Thor's willing to show her more of his magic and she's eager to see it and ask more questions of it. Starting with one asked completely in earnest and with an innocence of what he's alluding to. "Your magic can affect people? What does it do? Cause hair to grow faster? Encourage growth in children?"
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...she is an adult, right? He really has so little practice judging human age.
“Mm, it does do those a little,” he allows, peering at her a little more closely. Norns, she really doesn’t know what fertility magic is notorious for? Either that or this is a very creative distraction technique, and it’s working. “For a woman like yourself, it’d make you more likely to conceive. As long as you’re doing the necessary activity,” he adds quickly, before she might think he means spontaneously. “But if you don’t want to be pregnant, you shouldn’t have sex for... a week, probably?”
Well, he’s not sure which is more awkward. The crash course of the birds-and-the-bees he might have to give, or the fact that he doesn’t know enough about his seidr to know for certain.
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"N-not a problem for me," she says quickly, her face flushing a bright red. "I'm not-- I mean I don't--" Dreams she needs to stop trying to speak and just say the important part. "I've never had sex and no men have any interest in me so it's fine."
...oh dreams, that's even worse. Her shoulders tense and her eyes widen before she quickly covers her face with one hand, motioning in the direction of the plants with the others.
"Please go ahead." And cut her off from saying anything else, please. Please?
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“Good,” he says, also a little too quickly, when she tells him she doesn’t have a partner. Then realizes how that sounds, and winces at the accidental insult. “I mean, that’s fortunate. That you don’t have to... take extra steps.”
It may not have been her conscious goal to get his mind off the melancholy track it’d started to take, but mission accomplished anyway. It may always come back to him later, of course, but right now he is just as eager as she is to get back to the business of making this greenhouse truly green.
It takes him a minute or two to get his focus right, though, controlling his breathing and reaching for the deep elemental pool of energy that thrums at his core. He doesn’t close his eye this time, digging his fingers into the dirt, and letting the magic flow out of him into the earth. It’s a gentler seidr than his lightning, swirling wisps of blue magic that trickle like a quiet country brook. Thor doesn’t know the academic particulars of what he’s doing, not by a long shot, leaning on instinct to tell him how to direct the flow of energy, a formless wave that washes from one end of the greenhouse to the other and draws the delicate young plants upward and outward, replacing damp brown with lush green.
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Really, though, the awkwardness of this whole conversation will detract from any feelings that might have been hurt by offhand comments. At best she'll remember how awkward they both were when it came to talking about her (lack of a) sex life. At worst she'll remember how she dug herself a really deep whole in the conversation.
The renewed use of Thor's magic is a good distraction for both of them, though. Amelia sits quietly as the god gets settled enough to begin again, her breath catching in her chest at the sight of the first signs of blue that leave him and find their way into the earth. She can't fully describe it, but it feels like he's putting an outside energy into everything around him and letting whatever his magic touches decide how best to use it. It's powerful in a way that catches at the edge of her senses, reminding her of other subtle uses of magic that were meant to encourage the body's own healing processes without doing anything directly. She doesn't fully understand it, but it makes her curious enough to add it to her mental list of topics to read about later.
When it's done, the rogue exhales the breath she had been holding and looks around the greenhouse with a renewed smile. What would have taken weeks or months, Thor has encouraged in a matter of minutes. Everything is ready for harvesting and not a day past perfect ripeness. Even if the recently crowned king of Asgard can't see what he's done for the beautiful, impressive thing that it is, Amelia can't see it any other way.
"Thank you," she says warmly when he's settled again. "I never thought I'd see anything like this in my life, and now I want to learn more about it." If not for her own use, then to bring knowledge of it to others (maybe even Thor, someday, if he wants to know). "I thought I'd come to offer my help, but I feel like I've gotten more than I've given. A day close to the sea, a new magic to research, my knowledge from my world actually being useful..." She huffs a small laugh. "I could be content here for the rest of my life, I think."
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Where Loki’s talent has always laid in study and sophistication, Thor’s talent for magic is more a force of nature, wild and deep and powerful, but with far less fine control. Often over the centuries, he has found himself carried along with the wind and the rain and the lightning, as if he is the heart of the storm given flesh and bone, or perhaps the storm is born of him instead. In a way, fertility magic is much the same, fingers reaching into the nutrient-rich earth like roots spreading downward, full of yearning for sky and sun and rain. Little points of light like stars, blossoming and ripening, the earth’s breath of life given form.
It’s a strange feeling still, but that is not a bad thing, and Thor does not shy away from it. He lets the seidr flow until it feels right to stop, and he sits back on his heels again, feeling somewhat like he’s finished a long and challenging run. He rubs at his forehead to wipe away sweat, leaving a streak of dirt in its place, and casts a slightly self-conscious look at her to see her reaction.
Fortunately, his anxiety here is unfounded, if the wonder in her eyes is any indication. Her words of praise for Asvera come as a surprise, as well, and he envies her a little for it. What would he give to be able to look on this place and see contentment with what it is, instead of what is gone? “Your knowledge?” he prompts, though she’d mentioned helping Vidar before.
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Her smile is irrepressible as it spreads across her face. Thor may not be able to smile honestly or move forward from the grief and guilt he feels, but the rogue's spirits seem higher now than they have almost any other time they've met. Something about this place makes it impossible for her to act otherwise.
Pressing her hands to the floor next to her hips, Amelia laughs softly as she relaxes back into them. "With the right contacts and a few months' time, I could probably get some trade going through your docks as well. If not for the plants that grow wild here, then certainly for the fish that must be in the sea. This world is far more advanced than mine, but people can still be encouraged to barter and trade one good for another. At the very least, I could probably help you get the docks more organized. I didn't look closely, but any new home can use a keen eye from someone with experience to help."
Maybe she's overstepping with that last offer, but she can't help it. This place calls to everything in her blood that she's been trying to ignore since she moved into her current apartment in the Nexus. Letting go of everything that made her the woman that she was on her world has been excruciatingly difficult, and the temptation of stepping backward, even for only a short time, is something she doesn't want to resist.
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