|Ben Sorenson (agoodman) wrote in doorslogs,|
@ 2013-02-04 01:25:00
|Entry tags:||door: marvel comics, thor|
What: Thinky thoughts.
Warnings/Rating: A lot of Thor thoughts.
On Midgard, Thor helped where he could. For all that he was a creature of fire and heat, it was not something that he knew how to bestow. Rain, the storm, lightning and thunder he could all give and these mortals were different from the people of a millennia ago. Not just in their cars and their PDAs, their skyrises and their love of all things electric. Once long halls had been built for the cold winter nights, fire and food shared over them, conversations that formed communities. Those days were long gone but he can't help but think that if they had them now, it would have been easier on them during those electricity free nights.
Growth, however, was required. Asgard had left Midgard so that they could grow into whatever they wished to be, all with the promise that they would return if ever their help was needed. More and more he was learning that Midgard, as much as he loved her and her people, wasn't his home.
It was time to return to Asgard. With him he took the sign from Tony that he hadn't understood until Ben explained it to him. Something was lost from one person and found by another. It did not explain why Tony had given it to him, but Thor did not make a habit of turning down gifts. He placed it in the most appropriate spot he could think of, in Loki's old room, the air inside still burnt cold and making his nostrils tingle. Lost and found.
He called for the usual council meeting to hear on the important matters of Asgard to meet two days hence. They were still as boring as they ever were, but now he understood their importance and why he must attend.
It did not make them any easier to bear.
Huginn and Muninn followed him to the weapons vault. Once they had followed his father, now they went where he desired them. If no orders were given, they followed, watching with ink black eyes. All the relics of other civilizations were safe inside, the Tesseract, Loki's staff, dozens of other items all safely housed here. All except for the Casket. Thor did not mourn it, but he did consider whether it might be prudent to increase the wards on this place, especially with the Destroyer gone.
He'd add that to the list of things to attend to. Tucking Mjolnir into his belt, he returned to the Citadel proper, nodding and saying hello to most everyone. A few he stopped to exchange more intricate pleasantries with, a brief word of thanks, a promise to see someone that night at dinner.
It was an hour later when he finally made it back to his own quarters. In the time since he'd been released from Loki's prison, he hadn't looked at the gift his brother left him, nor the note, but it was there, sitting on his bedside table where he had left it. Holding the globe carefully with the scrap of green velvet it had come wrapped in, he held it up, looked at it as the light of Asgard came through ice and ruby.
At first he had considered that maybe one wasn't supposed to free the ruby at all, but after seeing his brother on that Christmas Eve, or the not-brother, the other version of Loki, he knew that the ruby was a prize. That was the Loki that had bejeweled himself, added stones and jewels until he glittered more than the frozen planet around him. Or maybe the ruby was meant to stay inside the ice forever, admired within it's icy shell. For all the times he thought himself sure, he would consider it again and change his mind once more until the item and his own indecision rankled. If Loki meant the thing to drive him mad, he would surely get what he wanted.
Leaving the cloth wrapped around it, he took out the note. The satchet of herbs he carried with him, even though he did not know all that they might do. One day he would ask and maybe, if Loki was willing, he might get an answer.
The parchment was no longer stiff, but soft with his frequent readings. Thor read it again as he crossed to the table which served as both desk and long table for when he was having a private feast. Picking up another piece of parchment, he began to write out his own notes.
And in the line, there shall be a weak link, a prince of fire and ice. Ice, yes. Fire?
On the wrong paths and in the wrong vestments he shall walk, and, the path being the walker, he shall lose his home, and his birthright will be separated from him for not knowing his soul. Birthright, Jotunheim. Not knowing is because father did not tell him where he had been born.
Behind him will go ruin, and before, his children will devour what is to come. Fenris, Jörmungandr, Ragnarök. Loki leaves a place in ruin, but this was not always true.
In the dark places between the planets will he find the only ease he shall know, Is this true? Thor does not wish this to be true for Loki and as much as he wanted to see his brother happy on Asgard, he wished more for him to simply be content.
and he shall be the greatest of the line and the worst, a destroyer of more than kingdoms or of realms, but of all things. Again, Ragnarök. This was already known.
Salvation shall lie only in sacrifice beyond the measure. Here there was no note written, only the steady drop of ink on the piece of parchment and the final question (Why?) left unanswered. Thor knew what it meant, that it would require a greater sacrifice than life, than even the hammer at his side. It would require all. The thought left him chilled, even as he knew that he would not balk in the face of destruction and sacrifice. If he must give all, then it would be done.
Leaving both parchment pieces on the table, he walked up the stairs to stretch his legs and look out over Asgard. Leaning one shoulder against a tall column, a slow light rain began. It wasn't the fierce thunder and lightning that he could bring, but something far more gentle and meant to nourish.
In the back of his mind, a low, tranquil hum was hidden beneath the plink of raindrops and Mjolnir's quiet song.