|⚡️ (mightythor) wrote in timerift_log,|
@ 2022-05-19 14:50:00
|Entry tags:||marvel: torunn thorsdóttir, mcu: thor odinson|
This afternoon made Thor’s second visit to the Dragon’s Breath Pub in the first 48 hours of his displacement via the Time Rift. While the location was the same, this occasion found the Asgardian seated at a booth opposed to the bar. Additionally, there was a much different volume and tone. Despite the hustle and bustle of the establishment, one that Thor could only assume to be commonplace at this point, the aforementioned booth was quiet. Nearly silent. Perhaps the most obvious difference however, was the company being kept. Instead of being grilled by an inquisitive Doctor (Who?) ready to compare Thor’s Asgardian upbringing with the legends as told by Norse Mythology, Thor sat across from a fellow Asgardian. One who had only recently dropped quite a bombshell on the dimension-traveling-former-prince.
Thus, the silence. The type that probably lasted mere moments but felt like forever, growing more awkward with each passing second. Thor looked down at a half-eaten sandwich on the plate in front of him. Bacon, lettuce and tomato, with a few secret ingredients. It was quite delicious, honestly. Thor never really ate for sustenance. His Asgardian physiology allowed him to endure go long periods of time without food or drink, so whenever he partook in either it was purely for pleasure’s sake. But the silence kept him from indulging in this moment. Instead, all he could do was process. Torunn, the lovely fellow countrywoman who Thor was looking forward to sharing tales of Asgard, had a much more complex story to tell. And Thor was a part of it. A very unfortunate part. At least, her version of Thor was. And while the story she told might not have directly involved him, it didn’t stop her words from landing so close to home.
“Torunn… I don’t really know what to say. Mostly because I know nothing I can say can change what happened to you. Or change how much me being here might remind you of it.”
He was torn. Part of him felt connected to her. Not just paternally, but also the circumstances through which they both were now separated from their respective families. At the same time, her circumstances involved … him. He couldn’t blame her for hating him. He wanted to hate him. The other him. But that wouldn’t help the situation either. But one thing he could do right now was listen. And that is what he would do. And he’d wait as long as it took for her to respond. Even if it meant shutting the bar down.
“... but I am here, if that is what you desire.”