|Ben Sorenson (agoodman) wrote in doorslogs,|
@ 2013-05-03 16:41:00
|Entry tags:||door: marvel comics, thor|
Who: Benji -> Thor
What: Thor, what are you doing over there on Asgard?
Warnings/Rating: No none
In all their time together, there were very few conflicts between Benji and Thor. All that Ben had done, all that he would do, it solidified them as one. Whatever disagreements they had never lasted long, but since Justine had returned home, there had been a change in the mortal man that Thor did not know how to adjust to. Ben was quieter, more reclusive, yet he seemed to want companionship far more keenly even as he retreated further into himself and it left Thor feeling as muddled as Benji did. He didn't know what to do to help the other man but when Benji pushed him towards home, seemingly wanting to reside in the back of Thor's mind for a while, Thor went.
If he needed the distraction, Thor could provide that. He could bring order to chaos.
Now, if only he could return the Bifrost. It remained broken, the edges shattered above the edge of the asteroid that was Asgard. He had been through the histories, the old dusty tomes that were better suited to Loki or even his father than to him. Yet, they were strewn across the table that he used as his desk, worn pages shifting slightly in the wind, some of them already opened and left there, spines splayed wide. Any lover of books would likely hate how he treated them, but he left them where he needed them.
Even the oldest tomes had mentions of the Bifrost, but few referenced how it had been created, only that it existed after Odin had hung the realms on Yggdrasil. Had his father been there, Thor would have asked him, but without his presence he went to the Court Librarian to ask for older tomes, ones that he never would have asked for normally. They were old, dry scripts, preserved by seiðr so the words would not be lost.
It wasn't until he found a mention of the Cube, the Tesseract that two and two began to form in his mind. It acted as a doorway, a gateway between two ends of space and it had been found and brought to the weapons vault on Asgard shortly after the realms had been hung by Odin. That it wasn't mentioned previously in their texts only strengthened his suspicion, but the how continued to escape him. When he asked the librarian, she only gave a small, sad shake of her head. No, the knowledge was not transmitted by written word nor by speech; it was not sung about, nor whispered in their halls.
The only thing she could give him was a book, the pages turning brown along the edge. Would it have what he needed? The day was waning as he returned to his quarters, the thick book in his grasp. He waved off the servants that asked him if he needed for anything (he did not). They meant well, he knew that, but what he needed was a solution for the problem that had been his since the Bifrost had been destroyed.
The large book in his grasp was set down on a space barely large enough for it between other piles of equally old books and opened. Whatever it was, whatever the contents described was beyond him. The only words he could recognize within the script (old, but certainly seiðr enhanced) were Bifrost and Gungnir. He would need a seiðkona to decipher the language for him.
Or a seiðmenn. There was only one of those that he knew, only one that had risked the taboo that came with it.