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‘THANOS!’ Thor shouts the name into the night. Lightning screams and sparks around him. Thunder shouts with him. Around him, the sparse bushes ruffle in the wind and birds take flight, screeching fear and indignation.
Then thunder dies. Silence reigns. Above his head, the stars twinkle peaceably on.
He is not where Thanos is. He knows it in his heart. It was too easy, too simple. The wind slows and vanishes, and the desert night leaves him cold. His body shakes. He clenches his hand on the handle of his weapon and sucks in a breath.
Stormbreaker can create a bridge but not unless Thor knows where to go. Jane - dear Jane, with her tears for Erik and Darcy, avoiding his gaze and not asking for his comfort - had suggested the Tesseract. Follow it to Thanos just as Loki had once followed it to Earth. However, she had struggled to build what she saw in her mind’s eye. Shuri, still a child and now perhaps a Queen in mourning, had thought of a way, so she and Jane had worked.
And at the first sign of a path, Thor had leapt in, determined to end this, to find their enemy.
It was too much to think that they might succeed in this first hunt. Thanos can hide himself from the searching of the desperate survivors. He has all the stones. Half the universe is dead. (And yet Thor still lives, condemned for his failure.)
Now Thor is in a silent desert, unsure if he should stay and search or return to Midgard as quickly as he can.
‘Oh shit,’ comes a woman’s voice, behind him.
He whirls, Stormbreaker at the ready.
She is armed, with a sword nearly as long as her leg, which is no mean feat for she is also tall. Not quite so tall as Thor, but not far off. She stands as though until a moment ago she was poised for battle. Now the sword in her hand is awkwardly beside her, point dipping to the ground.
Thor’s heart leaps. She is not known to him, but surely… to look at her, surely she must be Asgardian. With that armour it can be nothing else. They might not all be gone. He might not be-
It is only his centuries of training that keep him from dropping his weapon and rushing to her, weeping for what is lost.
Slowly, carefully, he relaxes a little. If she wished to attack, she probably would not have announced her arrival so openly, nor would she have let her blade fall. He allows himself to lower Stormbreaker and let out a breath as he studies her.
Her armour is lightweight - more leather than metal and with a deep blue cloak. Her long, fair hair is braided for battle. Something about her feels familiar. In the darkness he can’t quite make the details of her face, however. She’s not one of his refugees, of that he’s near certain, but who-?
Perhaps one more surviving Valkyrie, he speculates. Or maybe the only surviving Valkyrie. He does not know Brunnhilde’s fate. His heart clenches painfully in his chest.
‘Hello,’ he says cautiously. ‘I am Thor, son of Odin.’ The image of his father in his mind only further tightens the pain in his chest. For there to be another survivor, any other survivor is all he can hope for. ‘Are you of Asgard?’
The woman watches him for a few moments. He still can’t make out her face, can’t guess what she is thinking.
‘Yes. Sort of,’ she says at last, making his heart jump with hope. Then she reaches to pull absently at the braids in her hair. ‘Sorry, um, your… majesty?’ She sounds young, younger than he’d expected. Not even an adult, he thinks, although very close. ‘The situation is complicated. I think- Well, I’m hunting food for dinner. You should come.’
‘The last Titan Thanos has murdered half the people in all the realms. I have no time for a hunt,’ says Thor. ‘Please, Lady, I need your strength. Our people are damaged.’
‘Oh,’ she says. ‘Right. Well. That’s… not good. I think I know someone who can help defeat him.’ His mouth drops open. She can’t possibly- ‘I’m not doing anything without dinner though. So. Hunting. There’s a watering hole a couple of miles that way.’ She points. ‘Coming?’ She sets off in a run.
Thor follows. He itches with irritation. They have not the time. He must get back to Earth. But for one more of his people? For someone who might help? He must persuade her. He needs her. Follow her he must, and hope that Jane, and Shuri, the those left of the Avengers bide their time and do not fret in his continued absence.
‘How did you travel here?’ she asks when he catches her. She must think he is still constrained by the Bifrost. His stomach lurches. Must he tell her? Must he be the one to explain? (But then, it is his fault, and his family’s legacy, so who else could it be?)
‘Stormbreaker acts as a bridge between worlds,’ he says, gesturing to his axe as he does. Later the tale of Hela must come out, but not yet, not while they run across the landscape in search of food. She must have a chance to grieve. ‘Midgardian scientists made a map. They hoped to lead me to Thanos but I fear I was drawn off course somehow. Do you know of any items with extreme magical power nearby?’
‘Midgard?’ she asks.
He nods. ‘Yes. Their technology is not as we left it, many years ago. I had help from two of their most prominent scientists.’ He hesitates for a moment, for he is unsure if the throne passes automatically to Shuri or not, so the correct title is not known to him. ‘Queen Shuri and…’ He hesitates again, for a different reason. ‘Dr Jane Foster.’
‘Oh,’ she says. ‘Er. Friends… of yours?’ He glances at her. ‘Just kinda strange, King of Asgard, ending up on Midgard,’ she says, and perhaps she is not incorrect.
‘Shuri’s brother helped lead the fight,’ he says quietly. ‘Jane is- was- I met her a while ago.’ His throat is suddenly dry from their race, and it is a relief to see the watering hole, surrounded by several large beasts, and be forced to silence.
They creep forward. The woman - who it has just occurred to Thor has failed to tell him her name nor anything about herself - keeps shooting speculative glances at him. If she is worried he cannot hunt, then her fears are to be assuaged.
Closer, he realises the beasts are even larger than he first thought. They’re twice his height and built like the bison he has seen in North America. Prey animals, probably, but their hooves are enormous and their horns look sharp. He has a hundred questions: their strengths and weaknesses, where she plans to attack, are they at least abundant enough to make the hunt permissible, and not least, who is his hunting partner? None of those are set to be answered though, not while they must silently approach.
His companion taps his arm, then counts down from three, and then they go.
~*~
The fight is both easy and difficult at once. By himself and in good health, he could fell the beast quickly. With an unknown partner - one who is fast and strong and dangerous, but unpolished and unpredictable - and with his body tired and weak from days with no food or rest, it is harder. The horns scratch across his skin, leaving a bloody gouge, and he curses and chops off the beast’s head and then they’re done.
Still grumbling to himself, he tears the edge of his cape and begins to tie it around his wound. The woman appears and begins to assist.
‘My thanks,’ he says, and then swears again because it hurts to tie so tightly, even if it’s better for the wound that she does so.
‘You-’ she begins, then stops.
‘What?’ he asks.
‘Nothing, I- well- nothing.’
‘What is it?’ He is amused despite himself. Close up to her, even in the dim light, he can see she is as young as he suspected - she surely cannot have reached her majority - and embarrassed.
‘You swear a lot,’ she mumbles. She coughs. ‘For a king.’
He barks out a laugh. ‘I should like to see anyone get gored by a horn that size and not have a few choice things to say,’ he says. ‘Though my parents- they came down very strongly on the subject when I was a boy, I must admit. Not suitable for a king. Hard to keep up those habits in battle though.’ He can still picture their disapproval as if it were yesterday. He’d give anything to feel that again.
‘Sorry, about…’ She trails off and gestures to his arm, which she’s bandaged competently.
‘You’ve not had much experience in battle?’ he guesses. She shakes her head. ‘You’re good. You could be better. Don’t be so elaborate, it’s dangerous. Move where and when you need to. And if you’re fighting with others, make sure you have a plan, even if it’s a simple one.’
‘Yeah, uh, thanks,’ she says. She tugs at her braids. ‘I am really sorry.’
‘A little more practice and you’ll soon be brilliant,’ he adds encouragingly, for she will be.
At that she smiles. It’s a wide smile, and seems genuine. ‘I’d like more practice,’ she says.
They both turn to look at the beast.
‘Can we carry it, do you think?’ she says. ‘I’d rather take the whole thing than leave the rest to waste.’
‘Wait, I thought you wished for food?’ he says, frowning. ‘Where must we carry it?’
‘There’s, uh, someone you need to meet. She can help you with Thanos.’
Again, Thor’s stomach leaps. It’s impossible, surely, but-
But up close, there’s something familiar in this woman’s eyes. She’s looking over his left ear, determined. She’s embarrassed again. She’s lying.
Hope crumbles and for a second he feels a flash of anger. That she dares-
He forces down his sudden fury. There’s something, some reason she wishes him to stay. A trap? Or does she need his help? Whatever it is, she is still one of his people, so help her - or stop her - he must. He forces himself to keep his voice even. ‘All right,’ he says, ‘but it cannot be for too long. My friends will be worrying.’
‘I think she’ll know why you went off course,’ she replies, and that feels like the truth, leaving Thor only more confused. ‘I don’t. I’m not really very good at theoretical magic.’
‘At least tell me your name?’ he asks.
She huffs in a breath. ‘Sorry, I forgot,’ she says, absurdly. ‘I’m Astrid. Please will you come?’
~*~
The site where she wishes to take the beast is five miles away, back where they came from. Not an impossible journey, but Thor doesn’t relish making it while carrying a creature many times bigger than them both, not when his legs and arms are near shaking with exhaustion. He points out to Astrid that carrion-eating creatures will find the rest so it will none of it be wasted, and they each take a leg (still heavy, with enough meat for a party of at least five on each if he’s any judge).
Their destination turns out to be a campsite of sorts. It’s beside an oasis in the desert and surrounded by a forcefield. Astrid uses a button from her pockets to create a doorway and ushers him in. As he crosses the threshold, he feels the magic ripple over his skin and tenses instinctively. This field is strong, stronger than should be needed. He is not sure if he should proceed.
But then the doorway closes behind him and he’s inside. If this is a trap, he’ll have to work to escape it.
Peeking out from under the trees is an awkward, lumpy metal ship, the kind that’s built in space and then adapted (usually poorly, by its fifth owner trying to save funds) to land planet-side. Though it’s parked, the lights remain on, suggesting it is being lived in. There’s also a couple of simple, temporary gazebos, covering tables of scientific equipment and odds and ends, and a tiny craft that seats only two bobbing in the breeze, moored to the larger ship. There’s something hauntingly familiar about the way it’s set up that tugs at Thor’s heart.
All the same, he rubs his thumb over the handle of Stormbreaker. There is some trickery at work, some lies being told. Astrid is hiding something. He must be ready.
‘Hold on a sec,’ says Astrid, her voice relaxed. She grins at him, and he starts. In the light from the camp he can now see bright blue eyes that are so shockingly familiar he makes a silent plea that he’s found another hidden sister. For all that another secret might shatter him, it would be worth it for just one companion.
Astrid, blissfully unaware of where his thoughts linger, finds some sturdy rope amongst the tables, ties it around the hoof of her leg and throws it over a tree branch. She then winches the meat above her head and takes the other leg from Thor, and doesn’t seem to notice that despite his thoughts, he’s half ready for a fight. Instead her movements are smooth and uncomplicated, and she hums as she ties the knot of the second leg. Almost involuntarily, Thor finds himself calming. She’s told a lie, but nothing about her feels like an enemy.
‘I’d better prep dinner,’ she says. ‘She’s gonna do her nut when she sees how much we brought.’ She then turns to the ship and hollers, ‘MOM. I FOUND A GUEST. IT’S URGENT.’ Thor winces at the volume right beside his ear. ‘Oops,’ she says, with a cartoonish grimace. ‘Sorry.’
‘What do you mean “guest”? And what do you mean “urgent”? This planet is uninhabited. You can’t just find guests. That doesn’t- oh my god.’
The instant she speaks Thor is frozen in place, staring at the door to the ship, his heart pounding in panic and fear and elation and- Then she’s standing there and staring back at him, mouth dropped slightly. Her eyes pass rapidly over him in much the same way his do her.
Jane.
She’s older. “Mom”, said Astrid, so of course she is. Her face has lines he doesn’t remember seeing. Her hair is threaded with grey. Her curves have filled out. She’s beautiful. The most beautiful woman in the galaxy, he thinks. He’s not sure he has the right to, not any more, not since-
But Astrid is very familiar. He swallows, but his throat is completely dry. He should not dare presume. Hope blooms unbidden, however, and he can do nothing to quash it.
Jane steps forward and so does he, near running until he’s barely a foot from her, when he pulls himself to an abrupt stop. He cannot assume she wants-
She reaches up and touches his hair and he leans into her hand and shuts his eyes.
‘For a second there I thought you’d had a dodgy haircut and arrived early just to complain about it,’ she says, and there’s warmth in her voice, familiar in a way that runs right through him. He opens his eyes to drink in her smile. ‘But nope. You’ve travelled a lot further than that, haven’t you?’
She makes to take her hand away but impulsively he grabs it and holds it to his face. He doesn’t want her to ever let go.
Her eyes widen. ‘Oh sh-’ She cuts herself off. ‘I knew from the hair it must have been close to Thanos. You grew it out as quickly as you could, after all,’ she adds, with more laughter in her eyes which he loves. It’s taking every ounce of willpower not to take her in his arms. ‘But you’re not just from near then, are you? You’re from back when things were really bad.’
Thor nods, and feels Jane’s hand tighten slightly. ‘How did you get here?’ she asks.
It takes Thor a moment to try and work out what to say. In that time, Astrid reappears at their side.
‘He says you and someone called Shuri made a thing to help find Thanos,’ she says. Suddenly Thor wonders how he could ever have missed that she’s his. The eyes. The smile. The toss of her head with pride at her victory. The obviousness of her attempt to lie. His arm twitches. He wants to reach for her. ‘I uh, thought that meant you could probably figure out why and like… send him back. Since that seemed important. But if you’re just going to stand there I’m going to bed.’
Jane steps back from Thor with a soft laugh and he is at once cold, bereft. But she takes his hand and squeezes it, perhaps guessing how lost he truly is.
‘Is Shuri from Wakanda?’ Astrid asks. ‘That name sounds like she is.’
‘Yes, that’s Ramonda’s great-somethingth-grandma. I met her when she was sixteen.’ Jane smiles, a little sadly. ‘She was one of the smartest people I ever knew. Ramonda’s a family name,’ she explains to Thor, as though that matters. Instead he can’t suppress the shock that ripples through him because he cannot possibly miss what this means. Jane’s hand in his anchors him, squeezes gently.
‘Huh,’ said Astrid, somehow seeming unaware of the sheer size of what has happened. ‘Mortal lives move fast. I remember when Ramonda was a baby. Now she’s almost as old-looking as you.’
‘You-’ says Thor, because his voice is only just starting to work again. It comes out strangled, not even a word.
‘Watch it!’ says Jane warningly to Astrid.
‘Looking old is a compliment!’ huffs Astrid, blowing through her teeth and rolling her eyes. Jane raises her eyebrows and Astrid sighs. ‘Sorry, Mom!’ she says.
Come on,’ says Jane. ‘Let’s make some dinner.’ She turns to Thor. ‘You’ve probably had a stressful week.’
‘Dad can cook though, right? Not you?’ says Astrid. Then, ‘Oh-’ she covers her mouth. ‘Um. Is it OK if he knows the future?’ she asks Jane, in almost a stage whisper that Thor would laugh if he didn’t suddenly feel so full of everything.
Jane’s lip twitches. ‘I think he’d probably worked it out, darling,’ she says drily. She reaches over and tugs one of Astrid’s braids gently. ‘You didn’t get this from me. And if you insult my cooking again you’re on camp cleanup at the end of this trip. Now go and get whatever you hunted prepped and- what did you hunt? That’s enough for an army!’ She’s spotted the meat hanging from the tree branches for the first time.
‘They’re the most common prey animal on the planet!’ insists Astrid. ‘I’ll freeze some of it and dry the rest of it and we’ll still be good for when Dad gets here. Actual Dad. Not baby-Dad.’
‘Go and prep the meat,’ orders Jane, gesturing vaguely, then running a hand through her hair. As Astrid heads off, she turns back to Thor and her face and voice soften again. ‘Take a minute if you need one, motek. You look like you do.’ He gestures helplessly at her because it’s too much, and there’s a sudden panic in his heart that his very presence will destroy this future. She reaches up and pulls him down to her, wrapping her arms around his neck and slowly petting his hair. ‘Just breathe, love,’ she says. He does. She smells the same as she always does, and for a moment he nearly weeps. But she’s mumbling nonsense reassurance into his ears and it’s like no time at all has passed.
‘I’m sorry,’ he says at last, into her shoulder.
‘For what? Showing up in my yard looking like a lost puppy?’
‘For everything,’ he replies, trying to ignore the way his voice threatens to crack.
‘Oh shit, wait, we were broken up at that point, weren’t we?’ And he chokes out a laugh because it’s both wonderful and absurd that she didn’t even remember when sometimes it’s all he can think of. ‘Well in case you couldn’t tell from the six foot viking who calls us “mom” and “dad”, we worked it out.’
He laughs again. He loves her still. He moves back from their embrace to study her face again. The same wide, brown eyes look up at him. The same beautiful smile. He could look at her all day, at this age or any other.
Jane is never one to stand still, however, and all too quickly she pulls out of his arms, picks up a notebook from one of the tables of her things, and ushers him over to where Astrid is working on hacking off a portion of the meat. ‘Can you go help?’ she asks under her breath. ‘She’s still not had much practice with campcraft.’ She reaches for a chair to put next to the fire and sits herself in it, with her notebook. ‘I’ll have a few questions, but I need to figure out what to do.’
Thor goes. His whole body suddenly feels almost numb, empty, exhausted. All at once reality seems to catch up with him. The battles. The deaths. A tortuous wait. A journey. And now a future. A future he must preserve, at all costs. There is no Asgard, but there is this. His very presence is a risk. He must return home and somehow not change this. (Though he is not sure he deserves-)
He trips, stumbles, and Astrid is at his arm holding him up. Jane appears a moment later, taking his other arm.
‘Are you OK, Dad?’ asks Astrid. Her face is suddenly pale.
He opens his mouth and once again can’t find the words. ‘I’m- a little tired,’ he manages at last.
‘When did you last eat?’ demands Jane. She pushes him towards the chair.
‘On board the Guardians’ ship,’ he says. It’s been days. He doesn’t want to admit that detail. ‘I’m all right. I will be.’ He sits anyway. He doesn’t have the strength to refuse, certainly not under the pressure of Astrid’s direction.
Astrid is watching him now, twisting her hands together. He suddenly feels old and frail and worries he’s failed her.
Jane touches Astrid’s arm. ‘Darling, don’t worry,’ she says. ‘Your dad puts on a brave face a lot, but war - true war - isn’t all about the glamour and the glory of his stories. It’s being tired and hungry and fighting on regardless, and when it’s over there’s- time is needed.’
‘I… guess,’ mutters Astrid. She scowls. ‘I’m gonna go sort dinner.’ Then she’s back to her meat, eyes down.
Jane pulls a packet of candy from her pocket and hands it to Thor. ‘Eat these. Back in a sec,’ she says.
Still numb, Thor tears open the packaging and eats. The sharpness and the sugar surprise him. It somehow seems unlikely that he could taste anything, and yet there it is, on his tongue, unchanged. He is still alive.
He watches Astrid work. She’s skinning the meat now, and his stomach growls. Her eyes are down as she works, but she glances up to look at him, meets his gaze, and then drops her head again. His weakness has unsettled her. He remembers that same feeling on seeing Odin return from a difficult battle for the first time. Until that moment, his father had seemed unbeatable, immovable, immortal. After, he’d been tired and injured and in pain, and Thor had for the first time been afraid. He is sorry that Astrid has seen him like this, but it would have happened eventually.
Jane returns with bread, cheese and meat, and a large bottle of ale. She hands Thor the drink and begins to quickly slice the entire loaf in half down the centre, then fill it with the cheese and meat.
‘So you’re going to have to correct me if I’m wrong because it’s been a couple of centuries,’ she says as she works, ‘but I think we were trying to use the Tesseract to build a doorway directly to Thanos. And if I remember rightly, you jumped in the second there was any trace of anything, despite literally everyone in the room shouting at you to not do that.’
‘That… is largely correct,’ says Thor. Something in her disapproval warms him. He’s missed her.
‘From what I remember, you came back pretty quickly and we all yelled at you,’ says Jane. She then frowns to herself and worries at her lip. ‘I’m going to check my archives and see what I have from the early twenty-first century. I don’t delete much so I’ll have something, it’s just a question of where. But anyway, I think me and Shuri figured out it hadn’t worked because we’d just used what we learned from the attack on New York, and hadn’t taken into account the interactions between all the stones being in the gauntlet. If this is the effect of the Time Stone pushing you off course in time instead of space, combined with the research I’m doing now pulling you here, then…’ she trails off and for a moment stops her work on his food. Thor shifts and that’s fortunately enough to interrupt her from her thoughts. ‘Oh! Sorry! Here you go!’ She hands him the sandwich.
Thor eats, cautiously at first, for his stomach is still twisted into knots, but as the weight of the food begins to settle he realises how hungry he is. Jane has found another chair and now sits beside him. With one hand she has pulled up a hologram where she flips quickly through written information - and out of the corner of his eye Thor sees references to the Infinity Stones. Her second hand she rests against his arm, thumb gently stroking. He’s never been more glad to not be wearing his full sleeves. She’s warm and soft and so familiar.
For a time, they do not speak. Astrid works first on their dinner, until she leaves a pot atop the fire and turns to the rest of the meat. She is careful as she cuts it into smaller pieces - some hung to dry and others carefully wrapped and boxed into cooling containers. As she works, she shoots uncertain glances at Thor. He does his best to smile reassuringly, though can hardly hope that is enough. He finishes his snack quickly, feels a little steadier, a little more solid. Beside him Jane continues her reading, pausing occasionally to make a note. Eventually Astrid joins them, carefully cleaning and inspecting her knife, and asking Thor to check it when she’s done. There’s the tiniest speck of blood where the blade meets the handle and he lets her know gently. She scowls and sighs and stomps off back to the ship muttering about getting a better brush.
Worried, Thor glanced to Jane, who laughs. ‘You’re always so fussy about cleaning tools, it drives her mad,’ she says. ‘One day she’ll pass the test, I’m sure.’
‘I didn’t want to upset her,’ he says. He thinks of the fear he’s brought her, just by being tired. He didn’t want to bring that, either.
‘You didn’t, not really,’ says Jane. ‘She hears all your stories of adventures and battles and fun and she wants to be just like you. She knows she’s got to work her ass off to get there, so she likes you pushing her, she just sulks in the moment. She’s still basically a teenager. Despite being, you know, a couple of hundred years old. I still struggle with the age thing,’ she adds almost apologetically. ‘I still think in Midgard years.’
Thor feels his heart leap again. Jane is somehow here and alive. ‘I love you,’ he blurts out.
‘I love you too,’ she says quietly, squeezing his arm. ‘Are you sure you’re OK?’
‘I did not think I would ever be OK again,’ says Thor flatly. ‘I am sorry Jane, I’m not much of a companion. My head- my heart- all of this is- And my magic is near drained from the battles.’
‘And yet you still jumped into the first wormhole you saw to try to go fight Thanos,’ says Jane clearly unimpressed. ‘Don’t think I won’t pick a centuries-old fight with you about your lack of self-preservation being even worse than I realised at the time.’
‘Perhaps when I have eaten and slept?’ suggests Thor hopefully, and she laughs and leans on his shoulder.
‘I’ll wait until the version of you that’s my husband arrives and do it then,’ she says fondly. ‘He should be well-rested, and after the Council of Worlds, an argument and some make-up sex will be the most exciting thing he’s done all week.’ Thor reaches for her instinctively, putting his arm around her to hold her against him and making their rickety, folding chairs rock under the movement. Jane turns her face to his and presses her lips very deliberately to his. ‘It’ll be all right, motek, I promise.’
Thor, struggling to contain just how much a kiss and the way she speaks of their relationship mean to him, leans his forehead against hers. ‘I made a terrible mistake,’ he says.
‘Just the one?’ says Jane, teasing him once more.
His laugh is hollow. ‘So many. With you. With Thanos. Even with Asgard and my family.’
She runs her hand through his beard. ‘Well don’t remind me of the ones about me or that’ll be the second centuries old argument you cause,’ she says, with a quirk of her lips. ‘The rest… that’s battle stories. Everyone screws up fighting every now and again. Things get better. I’ve watched too much sci-fi to be completely comfortable telling you the details though.’ She turns to kiss his temple. ‘Just try not to lose hope.’
‘With you beside me, that even seems possible,’ he says. ‘You’re wonderful.’
‘Flirt,’ she says fondly.
He sighs, almost happily, and looks up to the stars. The fire crackles on in front of them. ‘Do you remember that first night?’ he asks softly.
‘Even after all this time,’ says Jane. She leans back in her chair and pulls him with her so that they may both look upwards. ‘Different constellations here,’ she adds. ‘Still beautiful.’
He looks to her once more and agrees very deliberately, and she laughs and once more accuses him of flirting. He does not deny it at all.
~*~
Astrid returns, presents her knife for a new inspection and grins when he can find no fault. Then together they eat. The meat is unfamiliar but not completely strange, and Astrid has done well with the stew she has made, which Thor tells her, at first hesitantly, but on seeing her broad smile he feels some confidence in his words. He does his best to remind himself that just because she is his daughter she is not so different from anyone else: a compliment is unlikely to be rejected.
After they’ve eaten, some steadiness has returned to both his feet and his heart, and he rises to help Astrid scrub the bowls clean. Jane is back to her holograms and her work. If asked, she would help, but Thor sees no reason to disturb her.
‘Are you staying out here to sleep with Mom?’ asks Astrid as they finish putting everything away.
Thor’s throat catches and he coughs and splutters.
‘Oh god, what, no I did not mean- DAD. I meant that she sleeps outside, and before we left, you told me to look after her, so I’ve been outside with her. But if you’re out here then I’m going in the ship. I want my bed. Ugh you’re the worst, stop laughing at me.’
For all he is trying not to laugh at her words and the look of disgust she gives him, Thor has no answer. He is a guest. He is not of this time. He is not Jane’s husband, not yet.
‘Yeah, he can squish onto my bed,’ says Jane without any concern or hesitation. ‘You’re welcome to stay up too if you want to see the stars.’
‘No thank you,’ says Astrid, with a another wrinkle of her nose. ‘I’m going to have a bed all to myself in there! I might go in now. I promised Stigr I’d call.’
‘Not a word about the time travel thing!’ orders Jane. ‘No mention of your dad at all.’ Astrid grumbles but agrees and heads back to the ship. Jane turns back to Thor. ‘I’m assuming it won’t rain if we sleep out?’
‘Not for another few months,’ he says. The wind runs through his fingers as he feels for it, just to be certain, but there’s no water lying heavily in wait.
‘I love deserts,’ says Jane happily, and he can’t help but return her smile.
He expects Jane to linger at her work, reading, writing or even building well into the night. Instead she takes him into the ship for them to wash, and find clothes for sleeping (to his horror, the waistline of his future self's clothes is slightly loose). Then immediately she has him help her assemble a bed. The mattress floats on a cushion of air, to Thor’s private amusement. Unnecessary floating is a technological phase many realms go through. It is, however, stable enough for the two of them, which is proven quickly enough when Jane gets in and tugs his hand for him to join her.
In the bed, she settles him in her arms, and cradles his head into her neck and shoulder. It is at once dizzyingly dreamlike and the safest, most real place he has ever been. He’d been wondering if he’d ever dare sleep again, with all that haunts him, but with Jane holding him, it seems like he might.
He almost laughs. ‘Astrid thinks I am the one protecting you,’ he mutters into Jane’s collarbone.
She wriggles against him and kisses his hairline, and he thinks he can feel her smiling. ‘She worries about me because I’m still mostly human,’ she says. ‘I don’t think she’s ever even considered worrying about you before. Rest, love, and we’ll sort things out tomorrow.’
He tightens his grip without thinking. He’s not sure he wants anything sorted out, as she put it, for that surely means sending him back.
~*~
Dawn wakes him. Reality lurches back into his mind. He’s teetering on the edge of a cliff, unable to gain a steady foothold in the face of all that’s happened.
Beside him, Jane lies awake, reading through her holograms again. Her eyes are bright and absorbed in her work. She usually sleeps more than him, but he hasn’t properly rested since before he fought Surtur for the first time, so he’s been out all night. Despite all that’s happened, he remembers nothing of his dreams, and despite the knife-edge upon which his heart and mind barely balance, there is something solid and warm and better in the beauty of the morning.
His movements call Jane’s attention to him and she smiles. ‘Good morning!’
For a second, he lets himself forget, and he wraps his arms around her and kisses her. Jane curls her fingers over his hair and then lets out a short laugh, just a puff of breath over his mouth. ‘Sorry, forgot you’re a bit bald,’ she says against his lips, and before he can respond she kisses him again. Demanding, pressed against him almost immediately, electrifying his whole body, cutting through a fog of hazy memories made into fantasies that have almost stopped feeling real. Under his hands she’s at once familiar and different, a little softer than he remembers, but she still fits against him like she always did.
Then he realises something else that’s different, under his fingers, and he stills. He hadn’t noticed yesterday, too bone-tired to see what was right before his eyes, despite his own magic now making it beyond obvious.
‘You’re...?’
‘Oh! Yes! Another one. Number three. Astrid has a sister already. Solveig. If you’re still here this evening you might meet her. We’re not sure if this one’s a boy or a girl yet. I thought with your fertility magic you’d’ve noticed yesterday?’
Thor splays his hand over her belly very carefully. Three children. He wants to meet Solveig. He wants to meet them all. He wants to stay here, in this desert, for as long as we can.
There’s a noise from the ship and Jane sits up. Astrid appears, squinting at them both. Her hair’s still braided but her sleep has thoroughly mussed it. ‘Breakfast?’ she asks in a grunt.
‘Breakfast what?’ says Jane.
Astrid thinks for a moment. ‘Breakfast please?’ she offers.
Snorting softly, Jane gets up, throwing another log and some dry leaves upon the almost burned out fire to rekindle it. ‘You can sleep in a bit longer if you want,’ she says.
Astrid glances at Thor, almost hopefully. He flounders. He always thought he’d know how to be a father, but he doesn’t know Astrid at all. All he’s done is made her fear for him.
‘Oh god, if you two want to go and spar, you had better do it several miles away,’ says Jane. ‘I have some very sensitive equipment here!’
‘But Mom-’
‘No buts. This forcefield is strong and this planet is uninhabited. I’ll be fine.’
‘Yeah, but you’ve got a- a- Thing.’ She glances significantly at Thor. ‘If someone comes to find it-’
‘You can stay here and be still, or you can go out there and punch each other. No alternative. And if you’re staying here you’ll have to keep each other entertained because I need to build a time machine.’
‘Let’s go for an hour or two,’ suggests Thor, since Astrid clearly wishes to. ‘Your… mother is one of the strongest people I know. She will be safe.’ If there were a true and present danger, he does not believe he would have let himself be absent, nor split their family, not if Jane has some object of value. He also suspects Jane will appreciate some time to her work. For all that he wishes not to lose a second with her, he recognises that the sheer fact of that means he will be constantly distracting her.
He’s none too sure he should be fighting, for all he feels better, but Astrid is buoyed by his suggestion, so they eat, clean up the camp, and then Jane goes to her work and he and his daughter pack water and food and take a five mile run to where it’s safe to fight.
‘Do you fight with magic?’ he asks her, trying to mask his uncertainty, for this is a question whose answer he should know.
She grins, and there’s a glint in her eyes that he recognises. ‘I can control the energy of stars,’ she says.
That feels appropriate. Thor rubs the back of his head. He has not much hair left to lose, he supposes, but he hopes Astrid has enough control that it does not come to that.
‘Show me,’ he says.
She surveys the land about them, settles on a distant tree and lets loose a roaring, screaming, burning flare of white-blue plasma that tears across the land. He watches it arc and listens to it scream and for a moment he’s back on Nidavellir and nearly screams himself.
Then it vanishes. He sucks in a breath, rubs his thumb over Stormbreaker and looks. The tree is no more. The path to it is scorched, covered in a mass of freshly made glass. He kneels to run his fingers over the curving branches of the crystal. ‘This feels familiar,’ he remarks, with a smile.
‘Mom’s got a collection,’ she says. ‘Fulgurite, she calls it. You made her a heart one once.’ She wrinkles her nose. ‘I made Stigr one shaped like a-’ Here she pauses to delicately move her hands in a representation of an obscene gesture that she doesn’t quite dare finish.
Thor stands back up, suppressing a smile. ‘Forgive me, Daughter, but I suspect I should disapprove. You are most definitely not old enough to know such things!’
‘You completely approved,’ she insists. She’s lying again. It’s funny how he knows. ‘I mean, it takes a lot of magical control to do that, like I said. To other you.’
He snorts softly. ‘Well done,’ he says, with some sarcasm. ‘All right, now show me how you fight without magic.’
The night before he saw her hunt, so he knows something of what to expect. She’s still elaborate. Now he knows who she is, he knows better why. He has just enough self-awareness for that, after all. She will not prove herself showing off before she’s ready, though, so he corrects her stances and form relentlessly, insisting she be quicker, tighter and more precise in her movements. His father, Tyr, Heimdall - they all did the same for him.
To train someone to fight is not unfamiliar: he’s done it enough with the young soldiers on Asgard. It’s hard to forget who she is, to forget that he doesn’t know how he’s already been training her, and that he doesn’t yet know how to be her father. However Jane said he is exacting and Astrid seems to expect that. He is glad of that. He has always planned to be less strict and more informal than his own father was, but if she wishes to fight - to risk her life and others in battle - then she must be as good as she possibly can be.
~*~
They return a few hours later. Thor takes a dip in the oasis to wash the sand and dust from his body, while Astrid vanishes into the ship to clean herself. Jane is deep in her work and emerges, blinking and frowning, only when he brings her water and insists she drinks. The forcefield provides protection from the hot desert sun, but she should not neglect herself.
‘How are you feeling?’ she asks. ‘I wasn’t sure if you should fight, even just training. But you looked better. And I know you like to do things rather than just sit around.’
‘I don’t mind sitting around with you,’ he says, for all that she is probably right that the action has helped. Astrid seems content with him, not nervous or fearful as she was the day before. Jane has had time to progress her work. He almost has his feet steady in this reality, at least for now. ‘How have your morning’s efforts gone?’
‘So, uh, you should know that I may have, uh, borrowed the Time Stone. For some research. It’s on the ship. Which is probably why you’re here.’ Thor’s mouth drops slightly. ‘The universe has changed. After the Thanos stuff was resolved, we- representatives from Earth and Asgard and a few other places got together to argue that we needed better controls and research to stop this from-’
‘Jane you must stop telling me things!’ he interrupts at last. ‘I’m sorry, but this future depends on so many things. The more I know, the higher the risk.’
She huffs out a breath. ‘Yeah, I know, sorry! We’ll figure something out! The point is, I’m not building a time machine from first principles. I’m just trying to point it to the right place. So it’ll probably be done within a day. You’re still going to meet Solveig and you know, yourself though, because they’ll be here in a few hours.’
‘Oh. Him.’ Thor considers this. ‘I have grown back my hair, haven’t I?’
~*~
He’s going grey.
Thor approves of aging in general as a sign of wisdom and strength. He’s not sure he approves of it in this specific circumstance. His older self also eyes him up and down with no small hint of suspicion.
Solveig, like Astrid, is beautiful, with blonde hair and blue eyes. Something in the shape of her face is very much Jane however, and Thor’s heart melts immediately. She’s his daughter. He has two daughters, and a third child on the way and he doesn’t know how his older self contains the sheer joy.
Solveig’s still a child, and she regards him with large, confused eyes as she greets her mother with a hug. ‘Why are there two?’ she asks Jane.
Jane smooths Solveig’s hair. ‘Time travel,’ she says. ‘Mommy’s research may have accidentally pulled him off course on one of his adventures.’
‘Huh,’ says Solveig. ‘I met Nova Prime! I gave them my drawing of Daddy.’
‘I’m sure they were very happy with that gift,’ says Jane with a straight face. ‘Astrid, can you go show your sister where she’s sleeping, please?’
Astrid is showing the other Thor - her father - the meal she and Thor have been preparing. She appears to suppress a sigh: she must know Jane’s getting rid of them both for a time. The older Thor tweaks her nose and kisses her head.
‘I’m not a baby!’ she says, with a scowl, but she bounds up to Solveig and picks her up. Solveig immediately yells to be released and begins to fight for her freedom. Thor watches them, at once fond and alarmed. He misses Loki like a constant ache, but he’s no longer sure if siblings are meant to fight like they did. Jane and his counterpart let their daughters, still shouting, go without a second look, however, so they are unworried.
‘I hope you’re growing that back in,’ says the older Thor immediately.
‘It’s been five days,’ growls Thor.
‘Oh.’ He frowns. ‘The search for Thanos?’
Thor nods.
‘How much longer are you here?’
‘Jane says tomorrow.’
‘Probably,’ says Jane. ‘I’m finishing a few bits and then testing.’ She approaches her husband and wraps her arms around him and kisses him. Thor is instantly - absurdly - jealous. He wants her to kiss him. ‘How was the Council of Worlds?’
The older Thor frowns and eyes his younger self. ‘Safer to say nothing.’
Jane sighs. ‘I mean, he knows what the kids are called. I doubt the knowledge that you’ve attended a bunch of boring meetings is going to be what kills this future. At this point I’m not really sure what to do.’
‘You don’t remember any of this?’ asks Thor.
His older self rests his chin on the top of Jane’s head and seems to consider the situation carefully. ‘I… don’t, not at all.’
‘Yeah, but is that because it hasn’t happened yet?’ says Jane. She pokes him and moves away until she’s standing between the two of them. She’s still holding his hand. Thor itches to take her other one. ‘Is it safer to tell him more things so we don’t risk the future? It doesn’t feel like a great idea, but my main reference point is sci-fi which can’t be accurate.’
The older Thor frowns. ‘I don’t think, “Jane, I’ve been to the future and we have to rekindle our relationship,” would be my most convincing romantic endeavour,’ he says.
‘I’d recommend, “Jane, I’ve been to the future, I brought you some books”,’ says Jane. Both Thors open their mouths. ‘I know, I know, I’ve watched movies too! Fine. Let’s be sensible.’
‘I had a thought,’ says Thor. ‘Ogräs Weed. Though I don’t know if we could manage the precision?’ He grimaces. ‘Perhaps a smaller dose, and assume I will think any memories a dream?’
‘What’s that?’ asks Jane.
‘It’ll wipe his - my - memory,’ says the older Thor.
‘Oh,’ says Jane. Her voice is suddenly small. She reaches for the younger Thor’s hand and he smiles at her. ‘You just seem-’
‘Happier now than when I arrived? No great surprise, that,’ he says. ‘But I’d rather forget this now than remember it and, by my own meddling, destroy it. The only risk is the need for the correct dose and magical control.’ He looks to himself. ‘That is not where our skill lies.’
‘I think I know someone,’ says the older Thor.
‘Oh no,’ says Jane immediately.
‘He hasn’t tried to kill me in a century,’ replies her husband reassuringly. ‘And that was all part of the plan, mostly. And I think he even likes Solveig.’
‘That’s because right now her main ambition is to take over the galaxy,’ says Jane. ‘He thinks that’s relatable. That’s not a positive sign.’
‘You’re not talking about…? But he died. I saw him- I saw-’ Thor’s heart jumps again and Jane tightens her grip on his hand.
‘Yes, well,’ the older Thor waves a hand. ‘That has never stopped him before. But if this future doesn’t materialise, he may well stay dead, so I think he’ll help.’
‘I’m- glad he’s all right,’ says Thor.
‘He’s still an absolute arse,’ says his older self.
Thor looks over at himself. ‘I shouldn’t expect anything else.’ They grin at each other.
‘Ugh,’ says Jane. ‘Asgardians.’
‘I’ll fetch my brother when we’re ready,’ says the older Thor. He kisses her forehead. ‘Don’t worry, stjarna, where his own life is in question he can be trusted.’
~*~
It’s a strange affair, eating dinner with himself and two children who expect different things of him. Solveig chatters happily of the people she met at the Council of Worlds, talking to Thor as if he is the one who has known her all her life. She has already patted his hair and declared it “spikey”, and given him a flower picked from the bushes. Thor wears it behind his ear. She is precious. Astrid talks mostly to his older self. She is asking of the Council of Worlds with a look that, to Thor, reads as duty-bound. At that he cannot help but smile. No doubt there who she takes after. But there is a sharpness to her questions that reminds him strongly of Jane, and he thinks that if she has even half the intelligence of her mother, she will be a more formidable warrior than he could ever dream of being. Jane herself is curled into her husband’s side and seems to be half-listening, half-daydreaming.
It at once breaks his heart to leave, and fills him with hope.
The question of sleeping arrangements briefly occurs to him after Astrid and Solveig have gone to bed. Jane, however, has returned to her work. The noise of her pottering behind him, the flames of the fire licking at the branches in front, and the calls of animals around combined with the warmth of a good meal in his belly do their best to lull him into a comfortable stupor. His older self certainly relaxes, idly poking the fire in between swigs of ale.
Thor watches him cautiously. He’s older, of course. Despite the grey hairs - which a suitable dye would easily remedy, although Thor supposes he must have his reasons - he’s not aged too badly. A few lines, a bit of padding around the middle: nothing unforgivable. He’s out of his armour, too. He looks content.
As if feeling the younger Thor’s gaze on him, the older looks up and quirks an eyebrow. ‘What?’
‘You’ve forgiven yourself, then?’ His voice is sharp. He feels the temperature drop.
Silence follows.
He’d meant to avoid this, to make a comment about hair dye, but anger that has lain dormant suddenly rises. He has married the woman he loves more than anything. He has beautiful, perfect, brilliant daughters. He has a future. Half the universe does not. He should have aimed for the head.
‘Not entirely. Not ever.’ His older self swallows and tosses a stick into the fire. ‘We brought them back. All of them. We killed Thanos.’
Relief rushes through him and mingles with the fury and the horror, but can't make it go away. ‘That’s not enough.’
‘Don’t think I don’t know that.’ The reply is snapped back.
A spark of lightning arcs between them and they both look to their hands.
Suddenly there’s a steady hand on his shoulder and Thor looks up to see Jane. She runs her fingers through his hair, soft but firm. Her other hand is on her husband’s shoulder and she holds both their attention in an instant. He aches to reach for her.
‘Are you all right, boys?’ she says. There’s an undertone of warning in her voice. ‘The temperature’s just dropped about twenty degrees.’
‘Sorry, love,’ says the older Thor. ‘He’s not impressed with the grey hair.’ He grins up at her from where he sits. That spark, that confidence, that easy dismissal… that’s what drove Loki to hatred, Thor suddenly realises. He’s smug.
‘Funny,’ Jane says drily. She rubs Thor’s shoulder. ‘Come on, motek, don’t think I can’t hear that thunder. Seeing you two duke it out from a distance would be kinda cool, but again with the sensitive equipment warning.’
‘I am not king, you know,’ says the older Thor suddenly. Thor blinks over at him. ‘I helped our people rebuild a new Asgard, and I stepped aside. There’s too much blood in our family’s legacy. Instead I continue to fight for Midgard, for Asgard, and for our allies. I go to the Council of Worlds not for the love of it, but to advise, to lobby for peace, to prevent the rise of others like Thanos.’
‘Is it enough?’ he asks, voice suddenly hollow.
‘Sometimes. Thanos’s victims weren’t the first to die for my failings, nor the last. I must do what I can.’
‘Thor-’ says Jane quietly, frowning.
He reaches up and takes her hand to bring it to his mouth. ‘My staunchest defender, always,’ he says gravely and kisses it.
‘It’s just- everyone,’ says Thor at last. ‘I cannot see the way.’
‘No one person can defeat him,’ says Jane. ‘You’ll get there, all of you. You’ll get there because it’s everyone. It’s too important not to. And after that you’ll keep on saving the world. It’s all right to have a few happy moments in the bits in between, you know.’
He feels himself let out a breath. Absolved, at least for now. His staunchest defender indeed.
Jane plants a kiss on the top of his head, and then does the same for the older version. ‘Now I’m going back to work,’ she says. ‘No more thunder. And if either of you are making a coffee, make enough for me!’
The older Thor reaches for a pan and a bottle of water as she goes.
‘You really should sort your hair out though,’ says Thor gruffly, into the quiet.
‘I know, I know!’ says the older Thor, pained. ‘But those moments in between, as Jane calls them, have, of late, been places like this-’ he gestures to the desert ‘- where it’s difficult to get good hair dye.’
~*~
‘I cannot believe you simply helped yourself to an Infinity Stone and in doing so nearly wiped out this reality! You’ve never let me touch the things.’
‘I can’t possibly imagine why that is,’ retorts Jane, folding her arms and staring down Loki.
‘Don’t think I’m not going to make a formal complaint,’ he says. He’s waspish and thin and entirely unchanged as he argues with Jane. Thor loves them both, and to say so is on the tip of his tongue, but Loki’s furious gaze at Jane stops him.
‘Bite me, asshole,’ says Jane. ‘Even if your sternly-worded letter-to-the-manager gets me kicked off the Order of Stone Guardians, you’ll still never be allowed to join.’
Loki opens his mouth.
‘The children are coming,’ interrupts the older Thor.
‘Ah yes, let’s pretend we’re all a big happy family,’ mutters Loki darkly.
To Thor’s incredulity, however, Loki gingerly pats Solveig on the head and accepts a picture she’s drawn of him with a ‘you’re improving, well done’ and asks if she’s old enough to own a knife yet. The answer to this turns out to be no, to Thor’s relief. Astrid is a little more circumspect, but on prompting from her father, shows Loki an image of a wolf-like creature she apparently had to kill after it attacked her a few weeks previously on another of Jane’s research trips. (‘Not bad,’ he says. ‘Don’t forget I’ll get you a spacecraft of your own when you can give your father a black eye.’)
(‘Not until she’s got her pilot's license,’ says Jane.)
(‘Really?’ says the older Thor, more at Jane than at Loki.)
But they can’t linger. Jane readies her machine. Loki touches Thor’s hand and Thor feels a questing strand of foreign magic touch his before it vanishes, and Loki begins to measure out strands of stringy green leaves from a leather pouch.
‘How long has he been here?’ asks Loki.
‘I’ve isolated a spike in my readings that corresponds to when Astrid was out hunting and found him,’ says Jane. ‘One-point-six-eight planetary rotations.’ She waves a hologram over to Loki who peers at it, then nods and looks upwards for a few moments.
‘Are you ready?’ he asks Thor. Thor feels himself recoil involuntarily, and Loki rolls his eyes. ‘I have other things to be doing,’ he says irritably.
‘I am ready, I just-’ He glances to the others: to Jane and Astrid and Solveig and thinks it will be impossibly long.
‘Better a surprise,’ says Jane tightly. She takes both of his hands in hers. ‘I love you. Look after yourself. See you in… half a second.’ She glances sideways to the older Thor with a soft smile, which is returned. Then she stands up on the tips of her toes to press her lips to Thor’s, lingering for not nearly long enough.
He turns to the girls - to his daughters - next.
‘Mommy said no pictures,’ says Solveig. ‘So I got you another present.’ It’s a smooth stone, about the size of the ball of his thumb. Thor gravely receives it. He does not think it will do harm. He hugs Solveig. She is very small and very fidgety and before long she wriggles out of his arms to her crayons.
Astrid seems to hesitate for a moment before she speaks. ‘You will be all right, won’t you?’
Thor nods to his older self. ‘The proof is right there,’ he says. He touches her cheek. ‘It will be a hard battle that awaits me, Daughter, but all battles are hard in their own way. I am not infallible, but I shall be strong because I need to be, and one day so will you. I shall look forward to meeting you soon.’
‘Me too, I guess,’ she says. She hugs him. ‘I’m sorta glad I got to meet you. If only because you taught me, like, so many new words.’
‘I did what?’ interrupts the older Thor.
Jane laughs. ‘It was always a losing battle,’ she says. ‘But Astrid, if you repeat a single one of those words within your sister’s earshot then I guarantee you that you definitely don’t know enough words to describe the trouble you’ll be in.’
‘All right, Mom,’ she says. She’s still grinning.
Loki hands Thor a glass of water, with the leaves of the Ogräs Weed crushed within it. ‘Drink it all, Brother,’ he says.
Thor looks at his little brother. Not so little. Older. Still pale and pointed and irritable, but alive and well. His older self trusts Loki. For him, it’s still a leap of faith. The fate of this reality in the balance.
‘When was the last time you tried to kill me?’ he asks, with an ironic quirk of his lips.
‘Might have been last century,’ says Loki. ‘Might have been a moment ago.’ He raises an eyebrow. ‘Are you going to drink and find out?’
‘You know I will kill you myself if this is a trick, right?’ says Jane to Loki.
‘If this is a trick, you won’t need to,’ points out the older Thor. ‘Thanos killed him.’
‘Super comforting, thanks babe,’ says Jane sarcastically.
Loki grins thinly.
‘I’m glad you’re alive, Brother,’ says Thor. ‘Jane, Astrid, Solveig, I love you all dearly.’
He drinks.
~*~
‘THOR! What the hell?’
Faces swim into view above his head. He’s lying on the floor. Jane - pale, worried, angry. Shuri - curious, fearful, haunted. Steve - absolutely furious.
‘Hello,’ he says weakly.
‘What happened?’ demands Jane. ‘Where did you go? What did you see?’
'I… got drawn off course,’ says Thor. That feels right, but he doesn’t know why. He sits up and furrows his brows. ‘How long have I been gone?’
‘Thirty-four seconds,’ says Shuri. ‘The device did not work? You did not see…?’
‘No.’ Thor rubs his forehead, but then stops. There’s a small, round stone in his hand. He stares at it. There’s something about it, something important. ‘Something pulled me off course and pushed me back here.’
‘Thor, don’t you dare pull that bullshit with me again,’ snaps Steve. ‘We’re a team. We cannot defeat him alone.’
‘I- I wanted to-’ Thor turns the stone over in his hands. It’s smooth and black. He must have picked it up somewhere.
‘Are you listening to me at all?’ demands Steve.
Thor looks up, brought back to reality by the remembrance that his pain has made him a poor team member. ‘You are right. I’m sorry. There is no excuse. We must fight him together.’
Steve does not hold his anger. He touches Thor’s shoulder. ‘Are you all right?’
Too big a question for an honest answer. Thor nods. His body is present, even if his mind feels clouded. He could not possibly have run into any trouble in thirty-four seconds, however.
‘Maybe some sort of interference?’ suggests Shuri.
‘Maybe it just doesn’t like someone jumping into it before it’s ready,’ says Jane tartly. She’s holding his arm. He looks to her hand, gripping him tightly.
‘I’m sorry,’ he says.
‘Just… don’t…’ She shakes her head. ‘I can’t lose you too.’ Then she blushes.
His heart leaps.
Something in his face must give him away, for Jane drops her hold on him as if burned. She stands, rushes back over to her work. Shuri follows, chewing absently on her thumb.
‘I’ve had an idea...’
Thor sits unmoving for a moment, the fog-filled hole in his mind already seems distant, unimportant. Instead he owes it to the Avengers - the dead and the survivors - to be strong. He owes it to Jane to avenge Erik and Darcy, for all that she would not ask it of him.
He makes to toss the small, black stone away, but some unbidden thought stays his hand. He pockets it, for later contemplation, scrambles to his feet and goes to join the others. There will soon be a fight, and he must be ready for it. They all must be.
~*~
The last rays of sun finally dip below the horizon. Far above the plains, the stars begin to glitter.
To their left, the whoops of Solveig as she falls off the tree branches and into the water and the encouraging shouts of Astrid percolate through the camp.
‘Penny for your thoughts?’ says Jane, leaning comfortably against his arm.
Thor considers the offer. ‘Honestly?’ he says. ‘I was thinking about where I might get hair dye.’
Jane snorts and elbows him. ‘Oh my god!’
‘You knew I was like this when you married me,’ he points out with a grin.
‘There I am, worrying about if you’re thinking about Thanos or Loki or your parents or our breakup or any of the other five million shit things you were going through back then!’
‘Well I’ve spent a lot of my time making my peace with those,’ says Thor. ‘Or trying, at least. I don’t spend a lot of time confronting how young I used to be and how old I am now.’
Jane laughs again and squeezes his hand. ‘Does it help if I say you’re still the prettiest man I know?’
‘Mmm… maybe a little,’ he says, with a slow grin. ‘Tell me a few times, just to be certain.’
She leans over and kisses him, though there’s a glint in her eye. ‘Thor, you are absolutely the most beautiful husband I’ve ever had.’
Thor throws her a mock pout and returns the kiss. ‘I suppose that’ll do,’ he says.
‘After three and a half centuries and two and a half children, that’s the best you’re getting!’ she retorts. ‘Speaking of, while they’re entertaining each other, did you want to go in the ship for a bit of privacy?’
He grins. ‘Always, stjarna.’
The journey has has some bumps along the path, he thinks to himself as he gets to his feet and bends to help Jane to hers, but it was a journey worth preserving with every fibre of his being.
~*~