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Thor did not expect to meet Tyr alone.
That was what made it worse.
Had Tris been there, Thor could have behaved.
He would have smiled. He would have been civil. He would have kept his eyes off the placement of Tyr’s hand, ignored whatever private look might have passed between them, and reminded himself that he no longer had any claim on her.
He had become very good at pretending.
But Tris was not there.
And when Thor stepped into one of the quieter training halls of the Asgardian palace late in the afternoon, he found Tyr alone at the weapons rack.
For one brief second, neither man spoke.
Tyr looked much the way Thor remembered him.
Tall, though not quite Thor’s height. Broad through the shoulders with the build of a man who had spent centuries using a sword rather than posing with one. His hair was a dark, sun-warmed blond, slightly too long around his ears, his features rugged rather than princely—the sort of face that looked more natural covered in dust after battle than dressed for court.
Thor had always thought Tyr looked like a man carved out of some rougher part of Asgard.
Garrett Hedlund handsome, Midgard might have called it.
Thor currently found every part of his face irritating.
Tyr was tightening a leather strap around his wrist.
He glanced up.
“Thor.”
“Tyr.”
That was all.
Thor should have continued walking.
He had come to retrieve Mjolnir from where he had left it after sparring with Sif that morning.
There was no need for conversation.
He crossed the room.
Tyr returned his attention to his wrist guard.
Thor picked up Mjolnir.
Silence.
He turned toward the door.
Three steps.
Then—
“I hear you have been spending time in Vanaheim.”
Thor stopped.
His eyes closed briefly.
That had come out far more casually in his head.
Behind him, the room remained silent.
Thor turned.
Tyr was watching him now.
There was no confusion in his expression.
Of course not.
The entire Nine Realms probably knew by now.
Royal gossip traveled faster than the Bifrost.
“I have,” Tyr said.
Thor nodded once.
“Good.”
Tyr’s eyebrow lifted slightly.
Thor immediately disliked that.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You made a face.”
“I did not.”
“You did.”
Tyr looked faintly amused.
Thor’s grip tightened around Mjolnir.
He remembered suddenly why he had enjoyed Tyr’s company in the past.
The man was difficult to provoke.
Which made trying extraordinarily tempting.
Thor leaned Mjolnir against his shoulder.
“How is Vanaheim?”
“Still there.”
Thor gave him a flat look.
Tyr’s mouth twitched.
“Beautiful.”
“I know.”
“I assumed you would.”
Another silence.
Thor tried again.
“And the royal family?”
“Well.”
“Leif?”
“Still insufferable.”
Thor nearly smiled.
“Good.”
Tyr looked at him for a long moment.
Then—
“Are you going to ask?”
Thor’s expression immediately hardened.
“Ask what?”
Tyr stared.
Thor stared back.
Neither moved.
Finally Tyr sighed.
“Very well.”
He turned back toward the weapons rack.
Thor lasted perhaps four seconds.
“How long?”
Tyr stopped.
There.
Thor hated himself.
Tyr slowly looked over his shoulder.
“How long what?”
Thor’s jaw flexed.
“You know what.”
“I probably do.”
“Then don’t make me say it.”
That earned him an actual smile.
Thor pointed Mjolnir at him.
“This is not amusing.”
“I didn’t say it was.”
“You are smiling.”
“Because I have known you several centuries and have never seen you work this hard to avoid asking a simple question.”
Thor lowered the hammer.
“I am not avoiding anything.”
“Then ask.”
Thor stared at him.
Tyr waited.
Thor looked toward the ceiling as though Odin himself might intervene.
Nothing.
Typical.
He looked back.
“How long have you and Tris been seeing each other?”
Tyr’s expression became more restrained.
“A few months.”
Thor felt something unpleasant settle beneath his ribs.
He had expected that answer.
It still bothered him.
“A few.”
“Yes.”
“How many is a few?”
Tyr’s eyebrows rose.
Thor scowled.
“I am making conversation.”
“No, you are conducting reconnaissance.”
“I do not conduct reconnaissance.”
“I know. Usually you send Loki.”
Thor almost laughed.
He refused.
“Three months,” Tyr said.
Thor went quiet.
Three months.
Tris had been with someone else for three months.
Not merely gone to a feast with him.
Not allowed some lord to escort her through court.
Dating him.
Choosing him.
Thor looked down at Mjolnir.
He had no right to feel what he felt.
That knowledge had never once stopped a feeling from existing.
Tyr studied him.
“Does she know you’re asking?”
Thor looked offended.
“She is not here.”
“I noticed.”
“Then obviously not.”
“I meant—”
“I know what you meant.”
Tyr folded his arms.
“You realize I am not asking your permission.”
Thor’s eyes snapped toward him.
“You do not require it.”
“Good.”
“I never said you did.”
“No.”
“But you wanted to.”
Thor stared.
Tyr remained perfectly calm.
Thor began to understand why Tris might like him.
That realization made him dislike Tyr much more efficiently.
“You have become irritating.”
“I have always been irritating.”
“Not like this.”
“Perhaps you never had cause to notice.”
Thor walked toward him.
Not threateningly.
Mostly.
Tyr stayed where he was.
Thor stopped several feet away.
“Do you care for her?”
The humor vanished from Tyr’s face.
That answer mattered.
Thor could see it before Tyr spoke.
“Yes.”
The word landed heavily.
Thor looked away.
Tyr continued.
“I would not be seeing her if I didn’t.”
Thor let out a humorless laugh.
“Many men would.”
“I am not many men.”
“No.”
That was unfortunately true.
Tyr was honorable.
Loyal.
Patient.
Capable.
He was also very difficult to kill, which Thor briefly considered an unfortunate character trait.
“How much?” Thor asked.
Tyr frowned.
“How much what?”
“How much do you care for her?”
Tyr watched him.
“Enough.”
“That is not an answer.”
“It is the only one you need.”
Thor’s eyes narrowed.
Tyr’s voice remained level.
“You are not her father.”
“I am well aware.”
“You are not her brother.”
“I know that.”
“And you are not—”
Tyr stopped himself.
Thor’s face changed.
“Not what?”
Tyr’s jaw shifted.
“Nothing.”
“Finish it.”
“Thor.”
“Finish.”
Tyr met his eyes.
“You are not her betrothed anymore.”
Silence.
The words did not offend Thor.
That would have been easier.
They simply hurt.
Tyr seemed to realize it immediately.
Thor looked away.
“That is correct.”
For several seconds, neither man spoke.
Then Tyr said, more quietly, “I was not trying to be cruel.”
“I know.”
Thor moved toward one of the stone benches lining the hall and sat.
Mjolnir rested between his boots.
Tyr watched him.
Thor rubbed a hand over his beard.
“She ended it.”
Tyr said nothing.
“She was the one who left.”
“I know.”
Thor looked up sharply.
“Of course you do.”
Tyr’s expression didn’t change.
“She told me.”
Thor’s entire body went still.
“How much?”
Tyr considered the question carefully.
“Enough.”
Thor hated that word.
“What does that mean?”
“It means she did not tell me things that belonged only to the two of you.”
Something in Thor eased.
Slightly.
Tyr leaned back against the weapons table.
“But I know why she left.”
Thor’s mouth tightened.
“She believed it was necessary.”
“She believed many things.”
“She believed she was protecting you.”
Thor laughed once.
It held no humor.
“She was very successful.”
Tyr looked down.
Thor stared at the hammer between his hands.
“She saved me from a great deal of danger by making me miserable for several decades.”
“Tactically impressive.”
Thor looked up.
For one second—
They both smiled.
Then Thor shook his head.
“I loved her.”
Tyr’s expression changed slightly.
Thor realized what he had said.
Past tense.
He looked away again.
“I know.”
Thor’s gaze returned to him.
“How?”
Tyr almost seemed surprised by the question.
“Everyone knows.”
That irritated Thor more than it should have.
“Apparently my private affairs are realm-wide entertainment.”
“You were engaged to a princess of Vanaheim.”
“We were discreet.”
Tyr stared at him.
Thor frowned.
“We were occasionally discreet.”
“You once broke the southern balcony railing at a feast because someone asked Tris to dance.”
“He was touching her waist.”
“He was dancing.”
“Poorly.”
Tyr laughed.
Thor glared.
“This is precisely why I did not want to speak with you.”
“You started the conversation.”
“I regret it.”
“I assumed you might.”
Thor leaned back.
For a moment, neither man spoke.
Then he said, “Does she love you?”
Tyr went very still.
Thor immediately regretted asking.
But he did not take it back.
Tyr looked toward the open archway leading out toward the palace terraces.
“No.”
Thor’s eyes lifted.
The relief came too quickly.
Too obviously.
He despised himself for it.
Tyr saw.
Of course he saw.
“But,” Tyr added.
Thor’s jaw tightened again.
“There is a but?”
“There is usually a but.”
Thor made a frustrated sound.
Tyr almost smiled.
“She doesn’t love me,” he said. “Not yet.”
Thor hated the last two words.
Tyr continued before he could interrupt.
“And I have not asked her to.”
Thor frowned.
“She has had enough people deciding how she should feel.”
That quieted him.
Tyr looked down at his hands.
“I like being with her.”
Thor listened despite himself.
“She makes me laugh. Usually at my expense.”
“That sounds like her.”
“She argues about everything.”
“Everything.”
“She has strong opinions about things no sane person would have an opinion about.”
“Do not mention palace architecture.”
“I made that mistake.”
Thor actually smiled.
Tyr shook his head.
“Two hours.”
“You got off lightly.”
“She brought drawings.”
Thor laughed.
The sound surprised both of them.
It faded.
And Thor realized that for the first time since entering the room, they were speaking about Tris without circling each other like rival animals.
Tyr’s expression softened.
“She is easy to care for.”
Thor looked at him.
“No.”
Tyr paused.
Thor looked toward the sunlight streaming through the archway.
“She isn’t.”
Tyr waited.
Thor’s voice quieted.
“She is difficult. Proud. She will convince herself she knows what is best for everyone and then carry the consequences alone rather than admit she may have been wrong.”
Tyr listened.
“When she is angry, she becomes very quiet. Which is far worse than when she shouts.”
Tyr nodded slowly.
“When she cannot sleep, she walks.”
Another nod.
“She hates being asked if she is frightened.”
Tyr’s expression changed.
Thor glanced toward him.
“Ask if she wants you with her instead.”
Tyr went still.
Thor suddenly became aware of what he was doing.
He looked down.
Giving another man instructions on how to love Tris.
Wonderful.
Tyr said quietly, “Thank you.”
Thor grimaced.
“Do not thank me.”
“I mean it.”
“I know. That makes it worse.”
Tyr smiled.
Thor rose.
He should leave.
Before he said anything else.
Before Tyr became someone he could not comfortably hate.
Thor picked up Mjolnir.
Then Tyr spoke.
“She still wears your necklace.”
Thor stopped.
He didn’t turn around.
His throat tightened.
Tyr continued.
“The gold Vanir chain.”
Thor knew exactly which one.
He had given it to Tris during the second century of their relationship.
A thin gold chain bearing a tiny Asgardian rune he had chosen himself.
Protection.
Home.
It had been meant to mean both.
Thor turned slowly.
“She wears it?”
“Frequently.”
Thor’s face was impossible to read.
Tyr did not look angry.
That somehow mattered.
“And that doesn’t bother you?”
Tyr shrugged.
“It belonged to her before I did.”
Thor’s eyebrows lifted.
“That is an unusual way to phrase it.”
“You know what I mean.”
Thor did.
Tyr folded his arms.
“I am not competing with three hundred years.”
Thor stared at him.
“Very wise.”
“I thought so.”
“Because you would lose.”
The words slipped out.
Tyr’s eyebrows rose.
Thor closed his eyes.
“That sounded worse aloud.”
“Much.”
“I apologize.”
“No, you don’t.”
“No.”
Tyr laughed softly.
Then became serious.
“I know she loved you.”
Thor’s eyes moved toward his.
“I also know some part of her probably always will.”
That should have felt like victory.
It didn’t.
It felt like grief.
Tyr continued.
“I am not threatened by what came before me.”
Thor studied him.
“You should be.”
Tyr smiled faintly.
“Perhaps.”
Then his expression steadied.
“But I am here now.”
There it was.
Not a challenge.
Not arrogance.
Just fact.
Thor looked at him for a long time.
And for the first time, he truly understood what bothered him about Tyr.
It wasn’t that Tyr was unworthy of Tris.
It was exactly the opposite.
Thor could have hated an arrogant man.
He could have mocked a coward.
He could have dismissed some vain prince seeking proximity to the princess of Vanaheim.
But Tyr—
Tyr seemed to understand her.
Not as Thor did.
No one could.
Three centuries left marks.
But enough.
Enough to know when not to push.
Enough to respect what came before him.
Enough not to ask Tris to carve pieces of Thor out of herself simply so another man could feel secure.
Thor hated him for being good.
And respected him for the same reason.
“How serious do you intend to become?” Thor asked.
Tyr exhaled.
“You really are interrogating me.”
“I have accepted that now.”
Tyr thought for a moment.
“I don’t know.”
Thor frowned.
“That is a poor answer.”
“It is an honest one.”
He rested his hands against the table behind him.
“We are new. I have no intention of deciding her future after three months simply because we enjoy each other’s company.”
Thor considered that.
“Reasonable.”
“Painful for you to say?”
“Excruciating.”
Tyr grinned.
Thor looked toward the doorway.
Then back.
“Do not hurt her.”
Tyr’s amusement disappeared.
“I won’t.”
“You cannot promise that.”
“No.”
Thor appreciated the correction.
Tyr continued.
“But I will never do it carelessly.”
That answer—
Thor believed.
He nodded.
Once.
Then began walking away.
“Thor.”
He stopped at the doorway.
Tyr was watching him.
“For what it is worth…”
Thor waited.
“I don’t think she stopped loving you because she started seeing me.”
Thor’s jaw tightened.
“Tyr.”
“I thought you should know.”
“I already do.”
Tyr nodded.
Thor turned away.
He made it halfway down the corridor before Tyr called after him again.
“And Thor?”
Thor looked over his shoulder.
Tyr’s face had regained some of that infuriating amusement.
“She talks about your hair.”
Thor frowned.
“What?”
“Apparently it used to be better.”
Thor stared.
Tyr’s mouth curved.
Thor slowly lifted Mjolnir.
“Careful.”
Tyr laughed.
Thor turned away.
And, against every instinct he had entered that training hall with—
he smiled.
Only slightly.
He still didn’t like Tyr dating Tris.
He suspected he never would.
But as Thor walked back through the palace, one uncomfortable truth settled into place.
If Tris was going to choose someone after him—
Thor could think of far worse men than Tyr.
Unfortunately.
That made the entire situation considerably harder to hate.
