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Ragnarok had come to pass three days ago.
And yet, it felt like a lifetime for Thor, who was trying his best to keep his planet - or at least what was left of it - from falling apart ultimately. One couldn’t blame him, though; how was he supposed to cope with the fact that it was all gone?
He’d lived centuries, and hadn’t even reached half of his life up to this point, but gods, did he feel old. Perhaps this was one of the main reasons father had always been so insensitive and cold, he thought. Because kingship was hard, as he’d learned in the past few hours where he’d been ‘in charge’. At least, it was hard when your people were all huddled in one spaceship, barely a few hundred left. So much less people than before, but it still felt like a lot.
So many faces he recognized but couldn’t name when he crossed them on the hallways. Some almost immediately knelt or at least bowed when he passed, which felt unfamiliar, and somewhat wrong, some quickly rushed past him, some stared. Almost like they all couldn’t believe they were all living amongst a literal king.
Most of times, he couldn’t believe it as well.
That all of these people had been civilians of Asgard, normal people, simple people, really. Who’d been farmers or teachers or doctors or soldiers, who’d had spouses and children and brothers and sisters and parents and now? Now they were nobodies. Asgardians, sure, but with no one to remember them. All strangers to one another. Seeing groups of people who’d known eachother before ragnarok was rare.
Groups like their group, Thor reminded himself.
Promptly, he turned to glance over his shoulder, just to be sure that they hadn’t wandered off while he’d been sunken in his thoughts. And indeed, they hadn’t. The Valkyrie was sober for once, only swaying slightly from left to right as she reached out to Loki to ground herself, who scowled. He tried to shrug her off, but apparently, her grip was too tight, and so he gave up pretty quickly, turning back forward to embrace the solemn atmosphere once more.
Oh right, Thor had forgotten to mention that they were on a memorial service.
Well, if one could call the few withered flowers laying on the ground before the enourmous window so.
The galaxy stretched out behind the glass, stars glimmering, apart from that darkness was the only thing visible. But everytime he blinked, he saw them. Bodies, floating around senselessly, fingers stretched and arms hanging limp, mouths and eyes wide open and distant and dead.
He looked down, back to the poor ensemble of roses that had already faded to a dull brown before the ceremony had even begun.
Heimdall next to him closed his eyes as he recited a traditional Asgardian prayer, and the people mumbled along his words, some had sunken to their knees. Thor himself found that the words were caught in his throat, mind suddenly blank. But it didn’t matter, anyway. For once, nobody was paying attention to Asgard’s not-so-golden child, and he was really thankful for that.
The memorial was over sooner than he’d thought, and he didn’t even notice the Asgardians starting to leave before Val approached him from behind, slapping a hand on his shoulder. “That was depressing. I’m probably gonna get drunk and have a mental breakdown in my dorm now, you in?”
Loki glared at her. “We do not have time for that now, there are responsibilities we must fulfill.”
“First off, who’s we, I didn’t invite you”, the Valkyrie snorted, “secondly, aren’t you the god of mischief or something? How come you’re so ‘responsible’ now?”
His brother didn’t answer, but he hooked his arms in hers, uncharacteristic as it might be. “Come on.”
“Maybe you pretended to be the old man for a year too much, y’know how they say, the actor becomes the role after some time-“
“Pretty sure I’ve never heard anyone say that in my entire life-“
The two disappeared in the crowd, accompanied by their bickering, and Thor sighed. Val was right, though. Loki seemed to have had this weird sense of responsibility overcome him, and seemed more eager to help Asgard than anyone, surprisingly enough. Perhaps he wanted to make it right again, the situation he’d somehow caused, or maybe he’d just changed. Either way, Thor was proud of him.
Next to leave was Heimdall, who turned to him with his prominent golden eyes. “I shall return to the cockpit. I will be there, in case you need my assistance.”
Thor only nodded quietly. He wasn’t even sure why he was staying, to be honest. He wanted to mourn, but something inside him just couldn’t let him. Like he just didn’t accept that they were all dead, like he couldn’t recognize the ugly truth, that they weren’t coming back.
A small group of Asgardians remained, kneeling before the window, sending out prayers, or just standing there, head bowed as they mourned their fallen friends. Thor felt his heart twist at the sight. He wished they’d be able to grief properly, but the momentary held them back. Loki was right, after all; they all had a lot to do.
There were still plenty of wounded people among them, and even though Loki and Banner did a rather impressive job at helping those, they lost lives every day. Apart from that, there were other tasks they had to complete for the sake of survival; gathering resources like food and water (which was rather difficult, as it turned out, the Grandmaster only had party snacks and alcoholic beverages on board), finding places to rest, and everything hygiene related was a harsh topic as well…
The god found himself stepping closer to the windowpane, eyes now finding their way back up to the endless darkness.
You’re a destroyer, Odinson. Heimdall’s words from 2015 echoed in his head. They see you leading us to death.
And in a way, he had.
Thor felt a shift in the air as someone joined his side. He didn’t have to turn around to know who it was. Bruce didn’t speak at first, simply observing the scene in silence. When he turned to him, he caught the scientist’s sad, but also somewhat awed expression.
“What is it?” His voice sounded hoarse, and he winced, but Banner didn’t comment.
“Oh, nothing.” Eyes still glued to the window, he turned towards him. “It’s just- space is beautiful.”
Sometimes, he forgot Banner was Midgardian, despite it being incredibly obvious at times. They were so amazed by everything unfamiliar, and always seeked out to find answers to their questions, a deeper meaning behind it all. Or at least, those Midgardians he’d gotten to know over the time were like that. Including Bruce, who seemed to reach out before coming to a halt, hand hovering in front of the windowpane.
However, there was something so Asgardian in his way of behavior as well. Something he couldn’t quite place. But it was there.
“Indeed”, he found himself saying. “It truly is.”
For a while, they just stood there, enjoying the view. Well, Bruce was. Thor had gotten rather used to space throughout the time, but could see how it took his accompaniment’s breath away. Accompaniment- weren’t they friends by now? A friend from work, as he’d said a few days ago, but a lot had changed since then. Alone Banner’s presence had somehow made a difference, which was confusing, considering they barely had any actual contact with eachother, even during their avenging times.
Thor cleared his throat, stepping back. “I should probably get going. Kingship duties and all…”
His voice trailed off as he recalled the many, many things he had to do, the problems he’d have to face, the jobs he couldn’t finish. How was he supposed to handle all that? He was surprised Loki had been able to, in his time as Odin, and then felt bad for underestimating his brother like that, because chaotic as he might seem, Loki could be quite the organized person as well. But him?
Bruce finally tore his gaze from space, his dark eyes searching Thor’s. A sad smile found its way onto his face. “Thor…”
“There’s a lot going on at the moment.”
“I’m aware.”
“Well- yes, but-“
“Thor”, he repeated, softer this time. He stepped a bit closer, and suddenly, Thor was painfully aware of how often they did this kind of thing since Sakaar, this awkward approaching, gazing into each other’s eyes-kind of thing. It was definitely something new. He’d never had seen Banner as a touchy-feely kind of person. But maybe those things just changed when you spent two years on an alien planet without consciousness or awareness in any way. Or in general.
“I’m sorry it’s like this.” Bruce sighed, and Thor understood what he meant only when he gestured to the flowers laying to their feet. “I mean, you’ve lost a lot. Don’t even try to sugarcoat it.” Thor closed his mouth again because- yeah. He had a point, after all.
“Your whole fucking planet, Thor, that’s- fuck, I can’t even imagine.” Bruce shuddered. “What I’m trying to say is please, for fucks sake, take yourself a minute to mourn.”
Thor frowned. “I mourned.”
“Yeah, for like two seconds”, Banner snorted, unamused.
“Pretty sure it was more than that. Maybe five. Five sounds about right-“
“Thor”, he said for the third time, and gave him a stern look that quickly shut him up. “Please.”
He didn’t really know what to reply to that. On Asgard, you mourned, and then you moved on, or you had to, at least. He was supposed to. Even when the casualties seemed higher than he could count. He was supposed to be the symbol of strength, goddamn it. Flawless, stable, firm. But he wasn’t. Nobody really was, no matter in how much alcohol Val buried herself, no matter how stubborn Loki was, no matter how many encouraging speeches Heimdall held and how hard Banner tried to save the lives of those already as good as dead.
The only difference between them and him was that he was the king.
He was supposed to be the king, at least, and he felt like he was doing an awful job.
They see you leading us to death.
As he remained silent, Banner next to him shifted, and when he turned to the scientist again, he was surprised to find him on the ground, kneeling. “What are you doing?”
“We”, Bruce began with another look sent up him through his glasses (he had no idea how he’d found them again, but Banner had his ways, Thor assumed), “are going to mourn your people now. Properly.”
He sighed. “Banner, we’ve just discussed this, I have other things to do-“
“Fuck those things”, he interrupted, and nodded to the empty ground beside him. “Come on. Let’s do this.”
“Since when are you this annoying”, he grumbled, but finally gave in, joining him onto the ground. Bruce hummed happily, and turned to look at him expectantly after another moment of silence. “…what?”
“I’m pretty sure that’s not how this works.”
“Well, what do you want me to do”, he exclaimed, frustrated.
“I don’t know! Don’t you have a prayer or something?” Thor silenced, because of course they had prayers, but Banner was Midgardian, and wasn’t that kind of weird for him, listening to him speak about something he didn’t even understand or believe in? Then again, he was a cultural person, from what he could tell. But still…
“I- well, yes. Would it be alright if I’d-?”
Bruce nodded enthusiastically. “Go for it. Wait. Hold on.”
He shifted again, copying Thor’s posture; knees separated a bit more, back straight, hands steady on his thighs, head bowed. Thor felt something fond flutter inside of him at the gesture. “Oh, you don’t have to-“
“No, it’s fine”, Banner quickly assured him. “I want to do it right. Sorry. Please carry on.”
“You don’t even believe in all of this, do you?”
“Oh- no, not really. I guess you could say I don’t believe in anything. Well, obviously not nothing, just- not really this whole gods-stuff. You could say I believe in science. Does that- does that make sense?” Bruce stumbled through his explanation, and turned red when he caught Thor’s amused smile.
“It does”, he said, and Banner relaxed slightly, although a light shade of pink still remained on his face. He found it rather nice.
Turning back forward, Thor hummed, searching through his brain for something proper. “Are we really doing this”, he asked, just to be sure, and practically felt Bruce’s nod from next to him without having to turn to him. “Alright then.”
With those words he recited an old prayer, one his mother had taught him years ago. While speaking, he took notice of the words more than before, when he’d been a bored child that just wanted to go eat in peace without a prayer being spoken before every feast. The language had changed properly, he thought, given that there were many words even Asgardians, who were known for their ancient tongue, didn’t use nowadays.
His voice was low as he muttered, and with a look to his left he noticed that Banner had closed his eyes, seeming deeply in thought. It somehow touched him, the fact that he was that throughly open towards his culture. He’d encountered many Midgardians who’d let their beliefs and opinions get in the way of their perception of him, and it was sort of heartwarming to see how his friend wasn’t one of them.
As he went silent, Bruce looked up again, blinking rapidly. “That was a nice one.”
“You think?”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “Kinda fancy, I guess, but in a good way.”
Thor laughed, seeing how it might make that impression under others, and him as well, if he was being honest. Then, a bit bashfully, he added: “I appreciate you doing this with me. Really. It means a lot, especially when you don’t even- you know.”
“Well, I’m an atheist, yeah. I still think it’s a good gesture, though.” Bruce smiled up at him. Even when kneeling, the height difference was quite noticeable, but Thor liked it. He didn’t know why, he just found it adorable, and the urge to ruffle through his partner’s fluffy hair grew everytime he gazed down upon him.
“And, I know it kind of clashes with my beliefs, but I think it sounds nice. This Valhalla-thing. I mean, the thought that…” Banner’s breath hitched. Suddenly, he seemed tentative, more so than he’d ever seen the doctor before. After a second, he continued, voice quieter. “The thought that my mother is somewhere safe, with all of your folks, that sounds… reassuring.”
He couldn’t say he was surprised Banner’s mother had passed. Not that he’d given thought to it, but still. However, the way he said it, more soft-spoken than ever, made him come to the conclusion that there was more behind that sentence. And so he didn’t push, but showed how the topic had piqued his interest by asking: “Did she die in a battle?”
Banner let out a chuckle, low and unamused. Rather sad, if he was being honest. Perhaps even regretful. “Oh yeah. Greatest battle I’ve ever witnessed.”
Thor waited for him to elaborate, but Bruce didn’t continue, eyes glued onto the ground.
“I’m sure she’d get along well with my mother”, Thor said softly. “If she’s similar to you in any way, mother will love her. She would’ve loved you too.”
He watched in awe as the scientist ducked his head, barely concealing the furious blush burning on his face. “Oh. That’s- that’s so sweet, Thor.”
Thor was quick to turn away at the bashfully spoken words. Whatever… this was, now probably wasn’t the best time to think about it. Bruce seemed to see it the same way, because he didn’t comment any further, instead he slowly rose to his feet, dropping the borrowed Asgardian robes that went to his feet. Again- height difference. The scientist gazed out the window one last time, the swirling stardust mirrored in his dark eyes, before he extended a hand towards him.
Amused, he took it, and hid a smile when he noticed Bruce sway under his weight as he helped him up. „Oh, shut up.“
„I didn’t even say anything“, he told him and feigned outragement. They remained in that position for a moment, just standing there, hands loosely intertwined, before Thor cleared his throat and Bruce quickly pulled back.
„Uhm. Right. King… duties.“ The scientist nodded, shooting another quick glance at him over the rims of his glasses.
Thor awkwardly answered with an offhand gesture. „Precisely, yes.“
„See you later for… lunch? Or, I mean, I don’t know about the time zones here, I- it could be supper, actually-„
„We will“, Thor said, with a smile, „see eachother. Later. Whenever. You know where to find me.“
„Yeah. I do“, Bruce replied softly.
They parted ways, each of them walking off into different directions. Before turning around, however, Thor span around to get one last glance at his friend, who’s silhouette disappeared in the darkened hallway. A last shine of moonlight hit the scientist before he paused, then hesitantly went on. As if he’d felt him staring.
King duties. Right.