|Ben Sorenson (agoodman) wrote in rooms,|
@ 2015-09-04 11:33:00
|Entry tags:||!marvel comics, *narrative, thor|
What: King... again
This coronation was not like the one before. The hall was not full of cheering people, guards lining the path to Hliðskjálf, Huginn and Muninn on either of the extended arms (they were present though, both of them in flight over the heads of the Einherjar that had come to retrieve him from the farm that had been his home for the past few months). His brother, his mother, his father were not there, his friends were not present, and now, unlike then, he was presented with Gungnir.
It felt different in his hands than it had before.
It was not a triumphant return to the city as it had been when he allowed himself to think of the day when he might. One guard on either side of him, Mjolnir suspended from his hip and banging against his thigh with every step. The people stopped to look at him, others staring, some with an untrusting curl in their lip or with distaste in their eyes.
This was their last resort. The line of Odin must remain on the throne of Asgard and with everyone else gone, there was no one else they could turn to. It did not mean they trusted him anymore than they had in those first few days after Loki's wish had been made. Everywhere he was accompanied by guards - was this what Loki had felt?
There was barely enough time to contemplate or even enjoy the return of his armor before he was thrust once more into being King. The Vault had to be checked on (the Tesseract was missing, with only a note in its place), the councils had to be attended, the chiefs had to be listened to, the Einherjar needed training, the defenses needed to be reviewed, Vanaheim and Nidavellir both had diplomatic envoys waiting to visit Asgard. Gone were the peaceful days of working with his hands - and as soon as he could, a full two days into being King once more, Thor went to find the Norns, those old women of wisdom and riddles in the hope of finding an answer he might understand.