Re: Main Event
Thor was quite sure that Carol being there didn't much help matters, but who was he to argue or deny her? He would much rather she never saw this side of him, but he had to admit, having her there, stoic and resolute, was like having an anchor. Right now he didn't need an anchor, but he liked the idea that he could have one in principle.
He somehow kept from pacing in the ring, coolly waiting his opponent so they could get on with this. Or not: he watched with grumpy disgust as Hercules proceeded to strut to the ring, babbling both ancient and modern insults before stripping to nothing at all, and still demanding more attention, more delay when they should be settling down to it.
It felt as though sand lodged just beneath his skin; this was no warrior he faced, but a braggart in love with his ego and with dramatics. The Asgardians had made an artform of insults - flyting - but it was a fool who mistook a contest of arms with a contest of insults...and a greater fool who was goaded by them. People had spent the last week telling him he was a fool for doing this, but at least he would not be a fool in that way; Hercules might insist this was full of pomp and pageantry, but for him, this was a battle and nothing more.
He gave a soft snort at Carol's words, hands absently flexing as he waited for Hercules to finally decide to get on with it. "Aye," he agreed just as softly. "At the least, he shalt have no cause to question why he loses," he suggested. If Hercules kept confusing the stage with the field of battle and thought words would defend him better than armor, Thor would keep his and bless it for the advantage it was.
This had gone on long enough: stepping from his corner, Thor called over to his opponent, "Art we to fight or art we to watch thee prance about some more?"