|Ben Sorenson (agoodman) wrote in doorslogs,|
@ 2014-01-26 11:32:00
|Entry tags:||door: marvel comics, thor|
What: An attack
Where: Asgard and Vanaheim
He was standing on the edge of his balcony, between two columns, staring out at Asgard when the air curved and split, Huginn emerging with an almost lazy flap of his wings. His weight was familiar now as he settled upon Thor's shoulder, head turning right, then left as if looking for his brother, Muninn (who, like Huginn, had been sent far to watch the realms in ways that Thor could not). He was still afield as the raven's head bowed, small feathers rustling against his ear and Thor went still, expecting Huginn's head to dip to his breast in repose, but it was communion instead.
Images filtered through bird' view, fire, ships, invaders. There was a startled flap of wings and the muted thud of Mjolnir's handle into his waiting palm as Thor turned, all thoughts of home, of Asgard, and of returning to Ben's world gone for the moment. There was no fight on this; they were as one, like he and Mjolnir. The guards were summoned, the warriors called for, and he was waiting at the end of the Bifrost when it began to light with more than just his presence.
He was the first to set foot on Vanaheim, the sky spitting with light at the Asgardian's arrival. It split further with lightning called from the heavens to an upraised Mjolnir as Thor aimed for the largest gathering of invaders. What followed could barely be called a battle. The Marauders were far more interested in gathering their loot and leaving than fighting as the small village that they had chosen to pillage smoldered. Small craft rose into the sky to meet with a larger ship offworld as those that remained fought only to return to their own ships. Small pockets of light erupted as energy weapons fired, the sky cleaved again, and Thor led them onward with the dull thud of Mjolnir against flesh and the sharp crack of bones breaking.
It took longer than expected to round up the stragglers, those that had been too greedy and wanted more, those that had refused to give up their loot, those that were simply unlucky enough to be caught by spear or hammer or fist. Metal went around their throats and wrists and some were tied by rope, others linked together by chain, but all were flanked by Asgard's warriors. And when the fires were put out and all the remained was to go home, Thor knew they would be back. Not to this settlement, where the Vanir huddled close, some stained with soot, others with tears, others yet with blood, but they would return and Asgard would follow.
The sky lit again, rainbow light carving and arching down to take them home. Njord would care for his people and when the Marauders struck again, Asgard would be waiting. And as he was the first to the battle, he was the last to return to Asgard as light began to swell over the horizon to catch the prisoners and their escorts on the way to the dungeons. Mjolnir hummed within his fist. It had not been battle enough to work her into a true fury and it left them both with an odd anticipation, as if the dam had only temporarily been cracked instead of bursting wide open.
He would not cross like this. Not yet. They shared plenty and would share much more, but Ben was not an outlet for battlelust and he would not use the other man as if he was. Instead he returned to his rooms, armor clattering to the floor in a line behind him as he stripped himself of it. There would be other ways. He could wait. He would wait.