thor odinson isn't wearing his mother's drapes (thundering) wrote in valloic, @ 2021-03-08 20:49:00 |
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Thor could still hear the beep from the notification that had revealed Valkyrie's departure from this universe. It continued ringing in his ears, as he found the mead he had bought from Ásynja Meadery and proceeded to drink his whole stash of it. Probably not the wisest decision, but he didn't feel like being wise that day. He had never gotten the chance to speak to her, to find out what had been bothering her after the engagement party. Thor had been ready to put his silly crush aside and fix their friendship, but he never got the opportunity, as she was ripped away and sent back to what he hoped was their home universe. Any other option seemed terrible. Too many drinks later, he found himself with his last bottle of mead - only partially filled at this point - clutched in his hand as he stumbled his way in the direction of Darcy's RV. She had always been a bright spot in his life and he had hoped for her fingers to run through his hair, while she assured him this wouldn't be the last time he would see Valkyrie. But his eyes caught sight of the lights on in Fandral's cottage as he meandered by, causing him to pause. It only took a second for him to change gears. A few heavy footed steps later, he pounded on the solid door of the cottage. "Fandral, I see your lights! Open up 'fore I take this door down!" Valkyrie’s disappearance notification was not the first that Fandral had received since his arrival, but it was the first to actually leave him with an emptier feeling than he was used to. She’d come and gone twice now since he’d been here -- and both times, he was not sure where she was going back to, or if she’d even remember him if she came back a third time. He hated the thought of that, especially after getting the opportunity to get to know her better this second time. He was normally one full of cheer and laughter, but right now there was a feeling of bitterness and the quiet of his cottage seemed the perfect place to be right now. At least until the banging at the door. When Thor’s voice roared through the wood, he felt a sad smile pull at his lips before he pushed himself from the chair he’d been sitting in near the fire, making his way to it to unbolt and open it. “Patience still is not your virtue after all of these years, is it?” He was at least somewhat amused by it and sauntered away from the door with a quiet, sad chuckle as he retreated back into the space. Pushing away from where he was leaning heavily against the door frame, he followed Fandral inside. Fandral...one of his longest friends and one so very dead in their world. Would Vallo send him away too at some point? Thor hoped not. If he felt this much sorrow for Valkyrie, what untold sadness would explode at Fandral being sent back? Or Loki? Leaving those thoughts behind, he sat heavily on the couch near Fandral’s armchair. “Who has time for patience when any one of us can be gone in a second?” He offered the bottle of mead to Fandral with an outstretched arm, before leaning back onto the couch and letting his head rest on the back of it. Arms spread wide on either side of him and legs sprawled out in front, he closed his eyes. “I used to think we were the masters of our own fates. Not so much anymore.” Of course he could tell that Thor had been at the mead for a while by this point, so he took what was offered and brought it to his lips for a healthy pull. Of course, a healthy pull for him meant draining close to half of what remained in the bottle, but that was all right. If they needed more, he had bottles of his own. “You make an excellent point,” he agreed before moving to sit on the couch as well, slumping a little into the soft cushions, bottle between his legs as he stared into the fire for a moment. “We are masters of it up to a certain point. Back home it felt easier to call ourselves masters, able to decide whether to fight or not, I suppose. It felt as if the decisions we made determined who lived and who died.” Fandral paused there, eyes shifting down as he looked to the bottle. He did not regret his actions -- only that he’d never truly had the chance to say goodbye to anyone. “Here it is different though.” Obviously. “The magic of this place, it takes away some of that free will, does it not?” “I thought for a moment, that maybe this place might be a second chance to live life, continue to repair my relationship with my brother, continue on and maybe be happy?” Thor explained, wistfully. His face twisted and he opened his eyes, turning his head ever so slightly to look to where Fandral sat now. “But no, it’s just a cruel experiment that whoever in charge has come up with. Let’s see what these people from all walks of life do when we give and take away their friendships, their families.” Was Thor spiraling a bit? Maybe. But he never really got any help for all of the mental health issues he had been suffering from since Thanos. He put a bandaid on it and hoped for the best and suffered when that didn’t work out. Snorting, his demeanor shifted as he reached over and cupped the back of Fandral’s head. Bringing their heads together, he said, “You know I despise when I don’t have control over something, especially something as big as my own life. Forgive my mood?” He didn’t wait for an answer, just released Fandral and stood somewhat shakily. “Where’s your mead? We should be celebrating Valkyrie! Not mourning her. Let’s banish this mood!” Unfortunately, Fandral had not been around for the things that had caused Thor’s mental health issues in the first place, so he was not as used to handling them as he would have liked. In fact, he had no real idea how to at all, though he wished that he did; the mention of his own mead would help, at least, right? Celebrations were always better than grief. His hand came down to give Thor’s thigh a squeeze when their heads came together and he chuckled softly, nudging his shoulder. “I will always forgive your moods, Thor.” But then the other man was standing and Fandral’s eyes followed him, amused, before he drained the rest of the bottle and stood as well. Setting the now empty bottle down on the table beside the couch, he crossed the room over to a space near his bedroom and grabbed a couple more bottles, using his teeth to uncork them rather unceremoniously. “I will always prefer a celebration over not, though perhaps she will return.” Fandral handed him one of the bottles, feigned a ‘cheers’ sort of motion, and then drank from the one left in his hand. “At least we are both still here.” Darcy had been a great help, to get him to a point where he didn’t do anything too stupid to harm himself. She and Valkyrie had both gotten him to a place where he could at least live with himself, but he had refused any more help beyond that. It had been too much to deal with, at first, and then as time passed, he was reluctant to revisit the past. So there were some holdovers from those days, especially the way he coped with loss. Because this was a loss, no matter what Valkyrie went back to. And Thor was simply choosing not to deal with that. It was no fault of Fandral’s that he didn’t know how to deal with that. Who could? Taking hold of the bottle offered to him, he mimicked the cheer before throwing back a hearty gulp. It was smooth, in the way good mead was, but it was too much at once and Thor found himself a bit lightheaded at the end of it. Throwing an arm around Fandral’s shoulders, still swaying, he asked, “You do know you’re not allowed to go back, yes?” It would not be the first time Thor had avoided dealing with things in a healthy manner and he suspected it wouldn’t be the last. But whatever kept him smiling and laughing was something Fandral could do his best to help with. Besides, it would help him distract him from his own darker thoughts on the comings and goings of people. His arm went around Thor’s waist to steady him, but he smirked and turned his head to look over at him, an eyebrow raised. “I would make light and say ‘is that so? And what’re you going to do about it?’, but worry not, I do not have any intention of going anywhere.” Of course, intention meant nothing in a place like this. He could be here one day and gone the next and have no say in the matter. The only thing was he’d be going to a world where he was no longer amongst the living. Thor knew that whether or not it was something Fandral wanted, that neither of them had any control over it. But making light of it, saying their intentions, it allowed Thor to briefly believe that all would be okay for the moment. Matching the smirk, Thor rubbed his free hand over Fandral’s newly shorn hair and said, “Good. Even if you did deprive us of your golden locks.” For hundreds of years, Fandral’s hair hadn’t changed and to cut and dye it...well, it was a look. Thor still didn’t know how to feel about it. Stepping away from the hold the other Asgardian had on him, he walked unsteadily around the room, picking up this and that as he drank from his bottle. “You’re settling well here, my friend. Have you given long term thoughts to what you’ll do here?” A chuckle escaped him as the other man’s hand ran over his hair, though he leaned into the touch just a little. It had always been a weak spot for him -- having his hair played with -- and that would never change. “You do know hair grows back, do you not?” he asked, amused, before taking another drink from the bottle in his hand. “Though I quite like the darker look.” That gave him the opportunity to admire his reflection in the mirror nearby, using a hand to adjust his hair and scratch at the darker scruff on his face. It would be easier to maintain if he had magical abilities like Loki, but no. “I have not thought on it much. I did join one of the patrol teams, as it seemed a waste to do nothing, but otherwise I have spent my time wooing those few who will have me and drinking Torunn’s mead.” Torunn. That was a strange subject for Thor to consider, even after these weeks of getting to know the younger Asgardian. It had surprised him to find a daughter from another universe around when he had arrived, but it hadn’t been a bad surprise at all. He still felt awkward around her though, not knowing what she wanted him to be to her. But that didn’t stop him from seeking her out at events and stopping by her meadery. It wasn’t just for the drink that he went. “It does not grow quickly enough, you eyesore,” Thor teased, as came up behind Fandral and pinched his face. “Though I’m sure you have no lack of admirers, still.” Another swig and then a slap to Fandral’s ass, he moved away to sit down again on the couch. “I saw that you joined a team. I still find that it’s not enough to pass the time. There’s only so much I can drink, even if my actions speak otherwise.” “I believe you mean sight for sore eyes.” That smirk pulled at his lips again and he gave Thor a playful wink before taking another swig from the bottle, just as the other’s hand gave his backside a slap. Good thing he was a pro at not letting something like that ruin his attempts to drink. “You tease.” But he followed the other man back to the couch and sank down into it again, perhaps a little closer to him than before, legs sprawled a bit and his free arm draped along the back. He was sure if someone else saw them, the couch would look positively tiny just for the fact that they were both on it at the same time. “Truly, it helps, but I do not know what else I would find myself doing here.” Fandral glanced over at Thor for a moment before looking back down at the bottle. In fact, a lot of the time he just felt useless here, but how could he express that? Barking a laugh out at Fandral’s sheer refusal to be considered anything but beautiful, Thor put his drink down and pulled a pillow onto his lap. It looked ridiculously small, squeezed in his arms, but most things did. “I know what you mean. We had a duty on Asgard. To protect, to rule. Even in New Asgard, we had to find a way to make sure our traditions survived. Here though? It is without purpose, being here. Everything is settled and there is no culture to preserve. Asgard was its people and now there are only four of us here.” What could four of them do, without direction? Live their lives, sure, but in a meaningful way? Thor wasn’t exactly sure how that was possible. Bumping his knee to Fandral’s, he said, “I know how you feel, being listless. Perhaps a purpose will fall in our laps soon?” He wasn’t sure if that would be the case or not. Their strength and abilities were useful when the forest and city came under attack, but otherwise it felt as if they had no reason to be here other than to… well, just be. “I do not know,” he confessed at the knee bump, his voice a little quieter. It was clear that Fandral was not his usual cheery sort, despite trying to put on a smile for Thor. “There does not seem to be much need for...powerless Asgardians here. It is a big city with its own protections and peoples with abilities.” All he had going for him were his looks and his strength, which by comparison to some were still unimpressive. “I considered teaching swordsmanship, but I do not know that there is a need for that here, either.” After a moment, Fandral breathed out a slow, quiet sigh before bringing the bottle back to his lips, pulling from it for several seconds. The mead always hit strong, though he had not eaten in recent hours, so the lightheaded feeling was hitting him harder than usual now. It was hard to go from having the glory of Asgard shining down on them to feeling like your place in the world was in question. As fuzzy as Thor’s senses were in that moment, he could still clearly see that Fandral wasn’t as cheerful as the facade he liked to put on. A true king would have been able to find the right words to put Fandral at ease. But there was a reason Thor had stepped down as ruler, he did not have those words for him now. “I hear you, I feel the same as you do with being burdened with no sense of purpose. But I will do my best to ease that for you, for us. I have no idea how, but I will find a way.” Taking the bottle out of Fandral’s hand and placing it next to his on the table, he turned to press in close to Fandral. He gripped one of the other man’s hands in his own and then heaved him up and off the couch. “Come on now, I know one way to put troubled thoughts out of your mind.” Fandral trusted the other man’s word more than anyone else’s; he had known him for centuries by this point and would follow Thor quite literally to the end of the Nine Realms if he could. Not that it was an option any longer, but the sentiment was still there. “You are a good man, Thor, and you would have made a great King.” His words were hushed when he spoke, but he meant them as he looked at him, before letting out a laugh. One more of embarrassment than actual amusement. When he pulled him from the couch, he did not fight him (as if he ever would), and stumbled slightly over one foot before catching himself. Fandral stepped forward then and brought a hand up to Thor’s face, cupping the side of it and bringing his head closer so that their foreheads could rest together. There were things he could say with the mead swimming around in his system, but instead he stayed quiet and just let the moment settle around him. |