#( frigga . ) — the wisest woman of all asgard .

[magnusmodig]

╰┈➤ VI TALKS ABOUT THOR/MCU / anon / no longer accepting !

🔥 ( Thor and his relationship with Frigga )

||. Oh, man, Thor/Frigga is an interesting topic - because I feel the thor/mcu fandom tends to really characterize her one of two ways, and both are right and both are wrong.

The FIRST WAY is that "Frigga is a saint who can do no wrong, absolutely adores both of her boys and is the perfect mother" and... while I think that Frigga is certainly a perfectly loving and caring mother (and person tbh.) she very clearly had her FAVORITE son. There's a huge element of neglect towards Thor that goes overlooked in this take that I don't agree with, even if I don't subscribe to the idea that Frigga was purposefully neglectful, either.

....Which happens to be the SECOND WAY that the fandom (mostly the mcu!loki fandom, as usual) mischaracterizes Frigga, and by proxy Thor/Frigga's bond as well. In this take, they make Frigga's favoritism and doting over Loki go too far. To the point where she's passive-aggressive and borderline toxic, just because Thor isn't her precious uwu frost-baby. I am a FIRM believer that even if Loki was her favored son to hang out with, Frigga still didn't love Thor any less. It's just a very complex relationship, overall.

My personal take on Frigga is as follows:

Ultimately: Thor is her son! Her only child! And so is Loki, and I think she loved them BOTH so dearly. At the end of the day though, Thor has to spend his time with the other aesir in the family, and that's not Frigga, it's Odin. Not only that, but Frigga has more in common with Loki, so they have more to talk about in 1:1 moments together. What I think this led to was an unfortunate cycle in which she spent so much energy doting over Loki, making sure he felt seen/heard and had "some sun for himself" that she COMPLETELY neglected to see that her other son was in just as much pain as the youngest was; that while Loki is the underdog, Thor still needed his mother, and DID NOT have it all together. She was completely fooled by Thor's façade just like everyone else. And only realized how estranged they had become when it was too late, and she couldn't reach Thor anymore. (She also died before she could make it right.)

To further explain these two opposing takes, the first characterization comes (presumably) from the following:

Frigga being a very wise and clearly empathetic individual. The "glue" that keeps the family together. (a general observation due to how she interacts with her family. specifically: "[Odin] kept the truth [about you being a frost giant] from you so that you would never feel different. You are our son, Loki, and we your family. You must know that." thor (2011), and immediately accepting jane as her daughter-in-law in Thor: Dark World comes to mind. )

Frigga arguing with Odin about Thor's banishment (deleted scene.)

Frigga (attempting) to assuage Thor's anxiety pre!coronation (deleted scene)

I think this particular take is relatively accurate in characterizing Frigga's motherly nature, yes. But what it neglects to keep in mind is that:

Frigga was complicit in the lie of Loki's heritage. Her line about "Odin" not wanting Loki to feel different can also be read as her using Odin as a bit of straw-man for her own feelings. (@mischiefmodig and I have actually come to the conclusion "not wanting loki to feel different" was originally HER idea when Loki was very small. Odin is too pragmatic to come up with it. BUT when he got older, Frigga changed her mind, and Odin didn't want to tell Loki at that point because it'd cause a meltdown. Which it did.)

Frigga arguing for Thor's sake post!banishment was NOT done while Thor was aware of this development. HE IS NOT AWARE THAT THIS HAPPENED. From his perspective, she never fought for him, and more importantly: even if he did find out AFTER the fact, during his banishment, THOR DIDN'T EXPECT HER TO. In fact, Thor accepts that Frigga disowned him the second Loki lies to his face about that detail in THOR. (Re: "Mother has forbidden your return.") It makes no sense for Thor to believe this so immediately if they were close. (he WAS close to Loki, who he trusts implicitly, especially because he's family.)

While Frigga does attempt to assuage Thor's anxiety before the coronation, the key word here is ATTEMPT. She doesn't succeed. It's actually staggering how badly she misses the mark, and he continues to be largely unfocused and anxious about it. Even though Loki's scene with Thor happened before Frigga's, it was Loki who was able to say what needed to be said to calm Thor down where Frigga couldn't. ("You're my brother, and my friend [...] never doubt that I love you." / T: "How do I look?" L: "Like a king.")

The second take comes from a very loud and large portion of the loki!fandom in particular who absolutely despises Thor as a character and prefer Loki in every way. To the point where, I suppose, Thor is "an abusive brother"... Which makes no sense. It's ultimately a lot of projection. HOWEVER, I can't say it's entirely inaccurate to the favoritism displayed either. Some things I can say Frigga messed up on are as follows:

The official marvel comic (taking place between thor 2011 and avengers) in which Frigga endlessly searches for Loki and refuses to believe he's dead instead of mourning his loss with her husband and son. (Which is saying a lot, given that Thor and Odin both saw Loki attempt suicide by letting go into a black hole.) While she was right in the end, this is ... really negligent at the end of the day. (it puts SUCH a bad taste in my mouth that I refuse to consider it canon since it's not the movie's material anyways. I do think she searched for Loki, but more that she was searching for his body so they could have SOMETHING to bury.)

This scene of Frigga telling Thor that "[he] and your father cast large shadows"... Which is true and not necessarily a bad thing to say, but the line that preceded this was ultimately Thor just asking Frigga if she regrets teaching Loki her magic because of all the trouble (and war crimes) he’s committed with it…. And her answer was no —> proceeds to remind thor that he overshadowed Loki. (I don't think he took that personally or was bothered by it, but the answer isn't exactly well-timed or considerate of ... everything.)

TL;DR: Thor and Frigga aren't close. They're "close enough", but the fact that he doesn't shed tears at her funeral, (he weeps for loki THREE TIMES and is utterly enraged by Odin's death. Hers is the ONLY death thor is witness to where he does not actively react to at all.), speaks of her as if he's speaking highly of a well-esteemed stranger, has no reaction to her attempts to meet his emotional needs, responds minimally to her physical affections (mostly talking about body language, he's very stiff with her in a safe environment vs. a battle environment, as shown respectively), actively shuts her out in a time of mourning (she has to ask sif how her OWN SON is doing post!loki's death), and fully believed that she would not have fought for his right to return home —and in fact, FORBADE IT — with no questioning shows me as much, even if they do have some very soft moments together.

[starsspin-a]

im going to put this under a read more cause it’s going to be a lot of rambling

things i liked of frigg.a’s scene in endgame

frigg.a with her ladies. i would give my right arm for more of that because i got none of it in previous films. it was such a small moment and honestly not enough but i’ll take it

how she basically took one look at tho.r and figured everything out and was not surprised at all. she’s like the smartest person in these movies i stg 

frigg.a was like the only person in that fucking movie who didn’t take tho.r’s trauma or weight gain or anything else as a joke. which i have so many issues with, but also not she didn’t coddle thor and was straight with him. we love a queen

THE BEST TWO GODDAMN LIINES, I WAS FED WITH THESE

“i was raised by witches boy, i see with more than eyes. you know that.” best line, i felt seen, i felt validated. this line had the same energy as the queen who kicked m.alekith’s ass

“you’re here aren’t you? seeking council from the wisest person in asgard.” like damn fucking straight, i have been yelling this since the start. i love her

FOREHEAD TOUCHES !!!!!!

also rene looked fucking stunning and the fact she fit in the same costume that she wore 6 year previous is just !!!! 

things i was not a fan of

that little wave she does to rocket, idk why but that really bothers me, it just seems very out of character for her, and it really kinda ruins the whole moment for me

how tho.r acted when he first ran into his mother. it seemingly contradicts a deleted scene from dark world. tho.r is aware of her magic, and based on that scene and even this scene with the raised by witches line, it’s safe to bet thor is somewhat aware his mom has the gift for foresight in some capacity. bare minimum he knew that she always knew more than she let on about things about to happen. SO WHY THE HELL WAS HE SHOCKED, like pls make it make sense. 

and then in the next scene he’s talking about killing thano.s it’s the most tho.r like version of him we get but then two seconds later he’s back to whatever the weird version of tho.r we get for like the whole fucking movie. and then he tries and fails to idk tell her she’s going to die, AS IF HER NOT FIGURING OUT HE’S FROM THE FUTURE IN 3 SECONDS WAS NOT AN INDICATION THAT SHE FUCKING KNEW WHAT WAS GOING TO HAPPEN. like hello??????? there’s just TOO MANY CONTRADICTIONS IN THIS SCENE. like pick a tho.r you wanna go with pick how much he knows about frigga and her powers and STICK WITH IT. because i can’t handle this back and forth bull shit

“eat a salad.” 

they were so close, SO CLOSE. i would have overlooked that little wave and then there was this line. AND IT ALSO GOES AGAINST THE BEGINNING OF THE SCENE WHERE SHE TAKES ONE LOOK AT THOSE AND IS LIKE WHAT THE FUCK ARE ARE YOU WEARING AND WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO YOUR EYES. THAT’S ALL SHE COMMENTS ON AND THEN THERE’S THAT FUCKING LINE. like it goes against the woman we see at the start of this whole scene. i just can’t stand the constant acting in character only to do something completely out of character the next. also she just wouldn’t say that, not in the way she did and that line ruins it for me. 

tbh i felt like they couldn’t decide if they wanted to actually honor frigg.a’s character with this scene because of all the scenes and shit they cut of her from previous films and what not or if they wanted to keep the fat tho.r joke running and i just AM TIRED

[notyetneedcoffee]

Crossroads

Answer to Lexi’s 1k @the-omni-princess Challenge! Congrats!

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader; some Steve x Peggy; very Steve-centric

Warnings: ANGST and loads of it! 

Author’s note: This is my AU of Steve’s final Pym jump from End Game

____________________

The silence reminded him of the nights during the War. After the raging battle, even the animals and bugs refused to reveal their whereabouts. Although tonight he wondered if even the forest mourned Tony Stark. Steve Rogers sat alone in the middle of a glade not too far from the cabin Tony had called home. He tried to sleep, attempted to rid himself of the bone-weary exhaustion, but his mind would not shut down.

He knew everyone assumed his withdrawal, his moodiness and pain, stemmed from the battle and loss. A part of him felt immense guilt that they should be right, but they weren’t. After all these years of war on various scales, he felt the pain of loss differently. It just was a fact of life.

What spun his mind into a maelstrom of conflicted thoughts, tore his gut up with guilt, was something completely personal. Every option his highly strategical brain considered ended in pain and suffering for people he loved. Every option terrified him.  

He’d seen Peggy.  

It’d only been a moment, but seeing her young and vibrant sent his world spiraling. She wasn’t ravaged by age and Alzheimer's. As strong and lovely as the picture he carried with him, but in the flesh. Every missed opportunity and regret hit him all at once. It pulled at his heart, making him want to hold her like the awful pain of the years never happened.  

The threat of Thanos did allow him to think about it. So, it just took up residence in mind.  

Then there was the battle.  

Those once lost were back. Sam in his ear. Bucky fought his way to his side.  

He’d seen you.  

Among the chaos, with your beautiful face set in grime determination, he caught a glimpse of you battling your way through the aliens. Fierce and powerful, you looked exactly the way you had the day he’d lost you in Wakanda. All the nights of passion, the solace and trust found in one another, lit his chest. Seeing you made him fight harder, renewed his strength.  

The war was won. Friends were lost. Bodies were battered. Steve found himself holding you, but unable to do much more. Those who were lost tried to fathom being gone for so many years, to comprehend the changes to the world. You clung to him and wept. He’d missed you. He felt such relief having you in his arms. 

Guilt ate him alive.  

“You look like you’re planning all kinds of stupid.” Bucky’s voice came out of nowhere, making Steve jump.

“I’m just thinking.” Steve sighed.  

“Like I said, stupid.” Bucky sat down on the log next to him so close their thighs touched.  

Steve laughed without any humor. He felt tears push against the back of his eyes. Bucky’s arm wrapped around his shoulder. His head fell forward into his hands. He was exhausted.

“Rhodes filled me in on a few things.” Bucky squeezed his buddy’s shoulder. “Sounds rough, particularly for you and Natasha.”

“God. Nat.” Steve choked. He looked up at the stars, sniffing back reluctant tears. “I am so tired, Buck. I don’t have any fight left me. None.”

Something inside Bucky crumbled. He knew Steve meant it. That kid who got up time and time again after getting his ass beat, ready to go again because it was the right thing to do finally couldn’t. He just nodded, squeezing his friend tighter, not trusting his own voice.  

“Part of me just wants to go back to a simpler time, make different choices.” Steve whispered, hating himself a little for saying it. “Not take on the fight, not take on the pain, and just live a simple life.”

“Yeah,” Bucky cleared his tight throat. “Although even when we were kids, things weren’t so simple.”

A long silence stretched before Steve moved away a little. “Not talking about when we were kids. I mean actually going back.”

Bucky froze. No.  

Steve glanced at his friend, the hurt look staring back doubled the guilt eating away at his gut. “I saw her, Buck. Peggy.” He returned his focus to the stars. “I never stopped loving her.”

Torn between wanting to hit him and wanting to shake him, Bucky stood up. He paced, stopped, and paced some more. Steve stared at his hands in silence. Finally, Bucky stopped in front of him. His words were tight, ground out through clenched teeth. “Never mind me, or Sam, or anyone else on the team... what about Y/N? You don’t love her anymore?”

“Of course, I love her.” Steve’s face crumbled.  

“So you’re just going to abandon her?” Bucky snapped.

“She’s strong, a fighter...”

Buck cut him off. “Yeah and Carter was always such a pushover.”

Steve pushed his hands through his hair. His voice broke, cracked with pain and exhaustion. “I can’t do it anymore. Bucky, please. I can’t fight anymore battles. I don’t have it in me. I’ve given up my whole life for everyone else. Always. I just...” A sob ripped free, and he stuffed his fist in his mouth.  

“Pal,” Bucky put his hand on Steve’s head. “If anyone deserves to have a happy ending, it’s you.” Tears of his own slipped down his face. “You know I have your back, no matter what. If never seeing you again means that you’ll be able to have a happy life, then there’s no way I would hold you back. I’d hate it, but it would be worth it if I knew you were happy.”

“Buck.” Steve sniffed. “I don’t mean to...”

“Just be sure before you tell Y/N. I mean be absolutely positive.” Bucky’s face went hard. “Don’t break her heart and then change your mind. I swear I will break your neck.”

“What if I don’t know?” Steve whispered.  

“Then don’t say anything to anyone.” Bucky sighed. “If you don’t come back, then I’ll explain it.”

“I can’t ask you to do that.”

“You’re not. I’m telling you, that’s how it should go.”

“Buck,” Steve stood. They embraced, hugging tight. “Love you, punk.”

“You too, jerk.” Bucky squeezed him hard, praying to whatever powers that be that he would not have to tell everyone who loved Steve too that he would never be coming home.  

__________________________

“Don’t do anything stupid ‘til I get back” Steve tried to smile. ‘I still don’t know. Don’t say anything.’

“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” Bucky forced a smile, too. ‘Be sure, whatever you do.’

Steve stepped up on the platform. The first jump would take him to Asgard. 

Thor gave him very specific instructions on how to return the Aether. Steve chuckled when Thor told him to put the hammer down anywhere, but on a window sill would be best... less damage to the building when he called it.  

He arrived in a cavernous hall, surrounded by stone and gold. Unfamiliar scents filled the air, pleasant and rich, but he could not place them. Steve heard footsteps and ducked behind a corner. The person stopped close. He waited, silent.

“You must be a very close friend of my son’s.” A woman spoke. “Come out. I won’t raise the alarm.”

Steve cautiously stepped into the open. She was regal in every sense of the word. “Why not?”

“You are able to wield Mjolnir. It’s no small feat.” She smiled gently. “He was here earlier. The future is not going to be kind to Thor.”

He swallowed, taking a deep breath. Thor confessed to him privately he’d seen Frigga. Now seeing her for himself, Steve understood why. He didn’t even know her and he wanted to tell her everything even if he knew he couldn’t. She just radiated a calm, a peace he wanted to drown in.  

“It’s not kind to any of us.” Steve sighed. “I have to return this to Dr. Foster. I don’t want to, but I can’t risk not doing it.”

“Alright.” She smiled sadly. “Let me see what I can do to help. Follow me.”

He did, without question.  

“I don’t want to know what is going to happen, what has happened to you. It has something to do with the Infinity Stones, though doesn’t it?” Frigga glanced sideways at Steve. His jaw clenched. She slipped her hand into his elbow and grinned when his arm instinctively came up to properly escort her. “Did my son tell you anything of my power, my upbringing?”

“Thor say you’re the kindest and wisest person he’s ever known.” Steve answered. “You taught Loki much of his magic and that you see things, the truth of things.”

“That’s one way of putting it. I can follow of the strings of destiny.” She patted his bicep. “I can tell that you, like my son, stand at a crossroads. Perhaps the most important one of your life, because this one is a decision all your own. I don’t know what, but I know it’s deeply personal and profoundly painful.”

Steve stopped, staring wide eyed into her calm face.

“I find when I cannot unravel the answer, I lean on wise counsel.” Frigga led him on. “I may not be the best counsel for you. There is an Ancient One more familiar with your ways that is close to where you call home. Before you do anything else, I would seek out her.”

Steve’s mind jumped to the encounter Banner told him about with the woman who gave him the Time Stone. “Do you know her?”

“No, not personally.” Frigga smiled. “But she protects not just Midgard but all of Yggdrasil. Those of us with the ability definitely know of her.”  

They stopped before a large door ornately carved. “Give me a few moments, then come in.”

Steve waited, listening intently. Nothing but the distant sounds of the city reached his ears. Finally he pushed open the door, peering inside. Frigga stood over the sleeping form of Jane. She waved him over assuring him that the little mortal would not feel a thing, nor would she remember. He felt a little sick when he injected the Aether back into Foster.  

He stood back, staring into Frigga’s kind eyes before deciding to change his plans. Reprogramming the controls for the jump to take him to New York instead of Morag. Extending a hand, Steve took her small hand in his. “Thank you, for everything.”

“When you see my son, tell him to take care of himself.” She pulled him close and kissed his cheek. “Take care of yourself, too.”

Steve nodded, unsure how he would do it, but willing to try.  He stepped back and pressed the button.  

________________________

The jump dropped him on the roof of a building. He looked around, seeing the Chitauri battle not far away. His stomach dropped, the memories of the losses still keen. Another day when everything changed. A battle won, but the world’s innocence died. Aliens were real, and they were as bad as people ever imagined.

“It seems as if Dr. Banner was true to his word.” A calm voice spoke.

“I’ve come to return the stone to you.” Steve turned to see a small, bald woman in eastern clothing. Although nothing like the Norse Goddess, she radiated a similar calm...a powerful presence, like a monolith unmoving among the storm.  

With a wave of her hands, the green stone rose from its container and return to its home in the Eye hanging around her neck.  

“Captain,” She stared at him in a manner that left him feel exposed. “Walk with me.”

She turned, entering the building. Steve followed. Inside the temperature dropped, not uncomfortably. The dim light reflected off the well-polished wood. Cases held artifacts and books lined the shelves.  The air smelled spicy, like raw incense.

“Time is an interesting thing. It is complex.” She spoke melodically as she wove through the glass cases. “It is linear, yet not. It is set, yet holds immeasurable permutations. What is not complex is our journey through it. With every moment, every experience, we change. We incorporate all that we learn as time passes, yet if we move through time we do not unlearn what we know.”

Steve felt his brow pull together. “I suppose we are all molded by our experiences.”

She paused at an hourglass, looking at sands drop a few at a time. “I think you are looking to unlearn what time has taught you. I’m afraid you cannot dial back who you are as easily as rolling back the hands of a clock. Somethings are too powerful to unmake, some threads of who we are cannot be broken.”

“Why are you telling me this?” Steve frowned. He just wanted to rest, to have his turn to be happy.

“You are tired, Captain.” She stepped closer, arms folded behind her back. For all of the intensity, she looked upon him kindly. “We often cannot see clearly through weary eyes.”  

His eyes closed, feeling the burn of frustrated tears again. Steve ground his teeth together. “I am.” He sighed. “And I have a lot more to do before my mission is complete.”

“I would offer you safe place to rest, but I don’t think you will accept.” The edge of her mouth tipped up with a hint of a smile.

“No.” Steve took a deep breath. “I have a long way to go.”

“Very well,” she led him to a large round window where they could see the battle raging in the distance. Turning, she placed a hand on his chest over his heart. “You are a good man, Steve. Through trials and strife, you have remained true to yourself. What’s more, you have evolved. You’ve grown.” A calm smile spread across her face. “Like so many things in the universe, the more you grow, the more you realize how small you are. The more you know, the more you realize you have yet to learn. It can be burdensome, exhausting. But it can also be an exhilarating adventure if we can see it through fresh eyes.”  

Steve knew he should be contemplating her words more deeply. He knew he should heed Frigga’s words and seek this woman’s counsel. However, it just caused the pain in his head to increase. He didn’t want to consider the cryptic meaning behind this woman’s words. He wanted to fold Peggy in his arms, in a simpler place, in a simpler time, and just sleep for days.

The strange woman stared at him, making him feel like she could see straight through him to question his inner most desire without ever saying a word. A defensive urge surged, but he fought it back. Strange called her the Ancient One. Frigga said she defended the world on this plain and others. Getting defensive over her stare, especially when he carried so much doubt was foolish. 

That small smile touched her lips again. “Be well, Steve. May your path eventually lead you to happiness.”

Steve stared out the window at the battle once more, another memory rising to the surface. Out there, among the populace running for their lives, you were helping Clint after he crashed through a window. You helped him evacuate the building and fight off invaders. It was the turning point that brought you into his life. It was the day you decided to give up your job at the FBI to join the Avengers Initiative.  

Guilt twisted his insides, and he choked out “thanks” before turning to leave. He had to return the scepter to Stark Tower. He stopped when she called out his name once more.  

“At least allow me to help you get to your next destination safely." She held out one hand and formed a circle with the other. A portal opened.  

He could see the corner of the elevator banks in the lobby of Stark Tower. Steve’s mouth opened slightly. Did this woman really know what he was thinking? It was exactly where he wanted to intercept the Hydra Agents. “Thank...thank you.”

She gave him a nod, and he stepped through.

_______________________

Returning the Power Stone turned out to be thankfully uneventful. Steve hoped, as he climbed the mountainside on the Vormir, that the Soul Stone would be equally quiet. He did not see anyone. All of the intelligence proved out, no cities or even life forms to be seen.  

“I never thought I would see you again.”  

Steve brought his shield up, shooting with the other hand. The black clad figure only looked down at himself, unmoved as if the bullets passed straight through. Johann Schmidt laughed, red skulled face cracking in a grotesque mirth.  

“Captain.” He held out both hands. “You cannot kill me. I’m already in purgatory.” 

“What?” Steve didn’t relax his stance.  

“I made the mistake of trying to control a Stone and have been paying the price.” 

“You’re...” Steve swallowed past the vice grip around his throat. Clint’s words echoing in his mind about the red floating guy who made them choose. “You were here when Natasha sacrificed herself for the Soul Stone.”

“Yes. A soul for a soul.”

“I’ve brought it back.” Steve strode forward, fury growing with each step. “I want her back.”  

“Ah. Interesting.” Schmidt’s red face tilted sideways, studying him. “Her soul would have worked for you as well.”

“A soul for a soul. That’s what you said.” Steve growled. “I want her back.”

“Yes, because you are tied to her, returning the stone will release her.”  

Steve gasped.

“Though not the way you wish, I think.”

Cap tried to grab him but got a fist full of black mist. “What do you mean?”

“If you return the stone, her soul will return to your life somehow, though not in the form you knew.”

“Like, what? Reincarnation?” Steve frowned.  

“No. Yes.” Schmidt shrugged. “The souls that weave together over time touch and change over lifetimes. If you return the stone, her soul will be free to join the tapestry again.”

“How?”  

“Throw it into the abyss.” The black spectral hand pointed to the edge.

Steve approached the edge, acutely aware this was the last place Natasha was alive. His breath grew shallow. The pain of her loss stabbed his chest. He never properly mourned Nat, his sister in every way but blood. He trusted her, loved her, would never be the same without her.

Finding himself looking down into a deep chasm, the bottom obscured by black fog, Steve threw the stone. He gave a silent prayer that she would be free, would touch his life again. As the stone disappeared, a golden orange shaft of light shot skyward. Brilliant, like the burning of the setting sun over the desert. The light spread radiating heat. Then vanished.  

Steve looked down to see a solid stone floor far below in the chasm. He stepped back from the edge with a sharp intake of breath. Then it hit him. Faint, but undeniable, Steve could smell her. He closed his eyes and breathed deep. Natasha. Another breath and it was gone.

He turned around, remembering Schmidt, but didn’t see him anywhere. Perhaps it was true. Perhaps Nat’s soul was free and that somehow, someway, it would touch his again. The thought brought a little bit of warmth back.

There was only one stone left to return. Steve set the controls for New Jersey 1970.

______________________  

Returning the Tesseract was simple now that Steve knew his way around the secure sections of the Army base. He made his way through the halls towards Peggy’s office, nerves moving him forward, but having no idea what he would say. The lights inside the office were office, creating both a surge of anxiety and relief.  

Making certain no one noticed, he slipped inside. In the dim light he saw the photo of himself on the desk. Not after the procedure, but from when they’d first met. It warmed his heart that this was the version of himself she chose to remember.  

He set it back down and looked around... and froze.

He did not notice the far wall last time. It was full of framed photographs and certificates. A large photo of Peggy and her family held a place of honor in the center. Her husband was a kind looking man, her children were beautiful. They looked to be young teens in the photo.  

Another photo showed her and her daughter when she was a baby. Another of her son in his little league gear. Peggy and her husband stood beside Howard Stark and John F. Kennedy in one picture. 

Certificate and diplomas memorializing Peggy’s hard work and advancement were presented side by side with her family. She showed everyone she could fight the good fight and what she was fighting for...all on one wall of photographs. 

All the memories Peggy told him about. 

Steve found himself sliding to the floor, back against a file cabinet and hand squeezed tightly over his mouth. He wanted to scream. All her hard work, everything Peggy did for the world, and he hadn’t even considered it. She wouldn’t give up. If he showed up in 1945, she wouldn’t understand wanting to hide from the world. Even if she agreed, she would never do any of these things. 

His eyes locked closed as he fought back a sob. It was all a foolish dream. There was no going back. The Ancient One spoke the truth. He may be able to go back in time, but he can’t undo what time did to him. He was not the naive soldier Peggy knew. Steve choked. He felt battered, and bitter, far too cynical to even pretend to be that man again.  

Still, every fiber in his being screamed to hold her. The tears she shed every time he visited her in the nursing home killed him a little bit. He wanted his dance.  

Turning to the filing cabinet at his back, Steve quietly dug through the files until he found what he needed. An old address and an old date.  

_______________________

Steve reached the house just as the sun went down. The curtains were open and he could see Peggy moving back and forth from the living room to the kitchen. His palms were sweating.  A brand new 1947 Buick drove by as he crossed the street to the front steps. His heart pounded so hard he could hear it in his ears as he knocked on the door.

Peggy answered with a smile, but her eyes went huge and filled with tears. Her hand covered her mouth.  

“Hey, Doll.” Steve reached out, taking her by the elbow and stepping inside. “It’s okay.”

“St-Steve.” Peggy breathed. He nodded. Her hand came out and touched his chest, his face. Tears fell. She stepped forward and he wrapped his arms around her.  

Steve sighed, holding her closed, breathing her in. Some deep empty gash began to stitch closed. They stood there for a long time before Peggy’s curiosity grew. “How?”

“We need to talk.” Steve’s fingers traced over her back. “Can I – Can I just hold you for a minute more?”

She nodded against his chest.  

“I’m going to tell you something that’s pretty hard to believe.” Steve buried his face in her hair. “And I’m going to ask you to never tell anyone about it. Ever.”

“Steve,” She gave a tearful chuckle. “You’re back from the dead. You’ve got hard to believe covered.”

He pulled back, cupping her face in one large hand. Steve’s mouth covered hers, soft and sweet. Tentative, Peggy kissed him slowly. He found himself instantly conflicted. Relishing in the simple kiss, one he only dreamed of having, he simultaneously missed the ravenous intensity of the kisses he shared with you.  

“How? Steve? What happened?” Peggy pushed back.  

“Best we sit down.” Steve led her to the sofa. He took her hands in his.  

Steve didn’t know where to start. He’d thought about it, considered all the best options, but there still did not seem like any good options. He turned to face Peggy more directly. His brows drew together.  

“What happened after the crash?” Peggy asked.

“I was frozen... for about 70 years.” Steve stared at their joined hands.  

“What?” She breathed.

“I’m - I’ve come back from, well, a long time from now.” Steve looked into her wide eyes. “I can’t explain how. I shouldn’t even be here. I just had to...” He bit back his words, fighting to control himself.  

Peggy let out a slow breath. “That means... oh Steve. It would be a completely different world. Everyone you know. I’m so sorry.”

“No,” He shook his head. “I, um, found friends...people that became like family. But everything is so...” Steve’s face pinched, tears threatening to fall. He whispered. “I just really missed... I wanted to have that dance.”

Her hand ghosted over his face and he opened his eyes. “What happened? I’ve never seen you look so...”

Tears fell as he finished for her. “Tired. I’m tired, Peggy. I’ve fought, and fought, and I don’t think I can do it anymore. I’ve seen things, battled things, that make the Nazis look like pussycats. There’s no more clear right and wrong. There’s no more good answers.”

“Stevie.” Tears fell down her cheeks matching his. Her fingers stroked through his hair. “I’m so sorry. But if you have this ability, this technology, then can you keep these things from happening?” She watched him shake his head. “Too easy, huh? What about your friends?”

“Lost some of the best. Nat, Tony.” Steve’s face crumpled. “Tony is, was, Howard’s son.”

Peggy’s hand covered her mouth as Steve went on.

“He was brilliant, Peggy. Smarter than Howard ever imagined. He sacrificed everything. Now his little girl...”

“She has you, right?”

Shame flushed fresh over Steve. He’d never even consider Morgan. “Yeah, she has a lot of us. Every one of the Avengers will look out for her.”

“Avengers?”

“Um,” Steve frowned. “We’re a collection of highly skilled, gifted, agents of a sort. We fight the bad guys.”

“And there’s a lot of Avengers.” Peggy asked, still smoothing his hair.

“More that I would have thought possible when we first started.” Steve nodded.

Peggy held his face in her hands. “You are always the one to lay on the wire, to lead the charge. Steve, maybe you need to let your friends fight some battles, too.”

“They do...”

“Steve. Maybe you can let them fight a few without you.” Peggy’s worried expression finally registered in his tired mind. “You don’t always have to be the one leading the charge.”

He closed his eyes, resting his forehead against hers. “Always so smart. You’re going to do amazing things.”

“Don’t tell me.” Peggy placed a finger over his lips. “I want to be surprised.” He sighed. “We’re not going to meet again, are we?”

“You said you want to be surprised.” Steve whispered. His lips trailed over hers again. She pulled back before the kiss could deepen. “Never stopped lovin’ you, though.” He confessed.

“Me too.” Peggy cried. She sniffed. “I should let you know, though, there’s a very good man who wants to marry me.”

Steve sat up a little straighter, wiping his face before give her a smile. “You love him?”

“Yeah,” She wiped her own tears. “Although, I’m making him wait. There’s things I want to do first.”

He laughed. “That’s my girl.”

She laughed as well, taking his hand again. “Even though you’re out there somewhere, and I’m not going to have you in my life,” Peggy swallowed hard, “I’m so happy you’re still alive and have people who care about you.”

Steve stared at her for a long time. “Do you think I could have that dance before I go?”

____________________

You stepped up between Bucky and Sam when Bruce announced that Steve missed the return time. Sam looked confused, but the look on Bucky’s face made your heart sink. He knew something. You took his hand.  

“You came?” He asked.  

“Tried to get here in time to see him off but I was held up.” You chewed your lower lips. Pulling him away from the others, you dropped your voice. “He was really distracted, hurting, before he left.”

Bucky nodded.  

“So was I.” You squeezed his hand harder. “God, Buck, I have the worse feeling. But I don’t know what I’m thinking right now. With everything that happened, learning about what we missed, losing Vis and Nat and Tony. Feeling like shit and now finding out...ugh, I’m just losing my mind right now.” Big tears filled your eyes.

He took you by the shoulders. He did not want to say anything, not yet. Steve just missed the return time a minute ago. “Finding out what, Doll?”  

You reached into your back pocket and handed him your phone, a readout open on the screen. He looked it over carefully, twice. You cried as his eyes lifted back to you.

Wrapping you in his arms, Bucky rubbed your back. “Just breath, okay? When did you...”

“Just now. It’s why I’m late.” You held tight to his chest. “I should have done it earlier. What something happens and Steve...”

“Bucky!” Sam shouted.

You both looked up to see Steve walking toward you all from the lake. You felt Bucky take a deep breath. You let out a small sob. He placed his hand at the small of your back. “Come on.”

Sam was just pulling away from a hug when you come closer. Steve looked at you, seeing the tears in your eyes. “Buck?”

“No. She’s got news.”

“Sweetheart,” Steve pulled you closer, thumbing away a tear at the corner of your eye. You pulled him closer to kiss him. Your lips pulling at his lower lip, before your tongue slid along his, drawing a low moan from him.  He pulled you close, burying his face in your hair. He whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“What for?” You pulled back some.

“Being an idiot.” He sighed. “A tired, stupid, idiot.”  

Steve stood up straighter. “I need to tell you guys something. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and I never thought I’d say this but, I’m stepping down.”

“What the – wha?” Sam sputtered.

Steve stepped away from you and gripped Sam’s shoulder. Every bit of anguish showed in his eyes. “I can’t do it, man. Not now. These last years, these battles, just took all I had left. I’ve thought about it.” He held out his shield. “I want you to hold on to this.”

“You’re full of shit.” Sam balked.  

“No.” Steve shook his head. “You do what I do, remember? It’s you.”

Sam hefted the shield. Bucky smiled. “Doesn’t look like complete crap.”

“Piss off.” Sam laughed.

“So, what are you going to do, then?” Bucky asked Steve.

“It’s going to take a lot of work to just get things working across the world again. I’d like the Avengers to have a positive impact on the changes without having to resort to something like the accords.” Steve answered thoughtfully. “I think it’s work that would rejuvenate me. I’m tired of breaking things. I’d like to create something instead.”

“Sounds like you’ll be doing a lot of that.” Bucky’s smile spread ear to ear.  

“Buck,” You rolled your eyes him as you slipped under Steve’s arm. “Come with me.”  

You led Steve back toward the water. He held you close, voice tight. “Sweetheart, I’m really sorry. I’ve been...messed up. I should have been at your side every minute. I know I said it before, but my god, life just fell apart with you gone. Coming back, and everything is different, is such a shock. And it’s only been a few days...”

You stopped, facing him. “Steve, do you really mean you’re stepping down from missions?”

“Yeah, Sweetheart. I’ve got to.”

“Good. Me too.”  

Steve’s quizzical look caused you to pull your phone from your back pocket.  

“I didn’t make when you left out for your mission, because I was having this rerun. I didn’t think it was possible, but the test is conclusive.” You handed him the report.

Fresh tears filled Steve eyes, these washed away his pain and filled him with joy. He read the words again and again, pregnancy: positive. A bright smile met your own, he breathed out in awe. “I’m going to be a dad.”

You nodded as he swept you up in his arms and spun you around. He kissed you deeply, thoroughly. Finally, smiling against your lips, Steve said. “Love you. Thank you for being there for me, for being here for me. You and this little princess are everything to me.”

“Princess, huh?” You cuddled into him. “Already sure it’s a girl?”

“Just a hunch.” Steve kissed your hair, utterly confident in the turn he’d taken at the crossroad.

TAGS:

@rainbowkisses31 / @dsakita / @geeksareunique / @lbouvet / @buckybarneshairpullingkink / @theneuropsychwriter / @vanillabunn21 / @sammghgecko / @beautifullungs / @badassbaker / @the-omni-princess / @sebbysstangirl / @jesseswartzwelder / @unadulteratedwizardlove / @the-reading-octopus / @bangtan-serendipity / @kiki5283 / @mindtravelsx / @my-favorite-fics-and-imagines / @patzammit /@thegetawaywriter / @nova3312 / @jennmurawski13​ /  @vxidnik 

[mcusoulmateau]

hela, goddess of death

The day Hela’s soulmark appears, she is faced with a problem: Odin.

 Her youth was blissfully soulmark-free, and she had even begun to think she might be one of those lucky few to never get one. No pressure to find one person, no insistence on marriage, nothing to come between her and her blades and the battlefield. She can see what a soulmark does to Odin, how he is so anxious to track down his Frigga. (She isn’t supposed to know his mark, but she snuck a peek while he was in the Odinsleep. She’s had half a mind to find a Frigga herself and kill the bitch before she can distract Odin any more than she already has.)

 Her father’s views on soulmates are so limited. She doesn’t need to find someone out there named “Death” to be her husband and co-ruler (as if she would ever co-rule Asgard with anyone, Death or not). Why waste her eternal life looking for Death when she could become Death herself?

 Can she change Asgardian tradition? Can she convince him to throw away millennia of practice so she can rule unattached?

 If Hela is going to propose such a thing, she has to make it an enticing offer. She covers the damned mark on her wrist and starts scheming.

 -

 “Shall we spar this morning, my child?” Odin asks over breakfast. “Your blades are getting sharper each day.”

 “Yes, Father,” Hela replies, conjuring a dagger to twirl between her fingers in between bites of buttered bread.

 Odin’s eyes linger significantly on her wrist, bound with a gold-and-onyx bracelet that was not there the day before. However, he says nothing of it.

 They practice in a courtyard near the armory, a few dozen soldiers at the perimeter ready to join the fight at Odin’s command. Hugin and Munin circle overhead, no doubt whispering to the Allfather about Hela’s every move.

 “What is the most powerful object in the universe?” Hela asks, sending a knife to her father’s face.

 He deflects it with his spear. “Is this a riddle you ask, or are you hoping to add to our treasure vault a new trinket?”

 “Merely a question for the wisest man I know.”

 Odin jabs at her with his spear, forcing her to conjure a sword to parry the blow. She has only just begun to craft blades large enough for swordplay, and the act takes more energy out of her than she cares to admit.

 “‘Power’ is a slippery thing to measure.” Her sword glides along his spear with the harsh sound of metal on metal, but he counters her. “A plague may wipe out a civilization, but it cannot mine the earth for gold or power a ship from one world to the next. Does that make a simple pickaxe or lump of coal more powerful than the Skrull Flu?”

 “Now who’s telling riddles?” she asks. They start to move in a circle, weapons locked. One of the blasted birds cries.

 “My father would tell you it is the Aether. It nearly brought ruin to the nine realms and beyond.” They trade a flurry of light blows, none of them meant to cause harm. “Or perhaps it is the Eternal Flame, which could bring about the very destruction of Asgard—and you know as well as I that if Asgard falls, the other worlds will follow swiftly.”

 She wields her sword one-handed and uses the free hand (now sporting a black leather guard instead of her bracelet from breakfast) to send three daggers to her father’s ankles. He yanks his spear away from her and leaps out of the path of the flying blades.

 “And we just happen to have both of these powerful items in our possession,” Hela says dryly.

 “The Aether is not truly ours, child,” he chides, though his tone is gentle. “We have it so that nobody else may make use of it.”

 She sees her opening. She drops her sword, summons a knife in each hand, and charges him. Her dual blades catch the shaft of his spear, and they are again locked in a battle of wills.

 “Why only the Aether, though? Why is it, above the other Infinity Stones, locked away for safekeeping?”

 “The other Stones have not yet been used against Asgard as the Aether was,” Odin says, pushing down on her. Her arms start to ache, but she persists.

 “But they could be. Just imagine the terror that could be wrought on our people by the Power Stone, or the Space Stone. Are we to wait to act until after disaster befalls us?”

 He considers this, and she takes his moment of thought to raise one knife to his throat.

 “Yield,” she orders.

 The soldiers observing them tense.  Hugin and Munin hover near his shoulders, ready to attack her with claws and beaks.

 “I yield,” Odin says. And for the next several days, the whole Asgardian court agrees that their king is rather lost in thought.

 -

 Hela’s ambition outstrips her father’s, but Odin will do anything in the name of Asgardian safety. Even, it turns out, ransack planet after planet in search of the Space Stone, though it takes decades of planning and research before the first drop of blood is spilled in the name of the Stones.

 While her father locks himself in the library, coming out only to meet with advisors who might have a clue about the location of the Stones, Hela turns herself into a weapon. She studies dozens of styles and forms: the photon blades of Maveth; the primitive Midgardian shield, spear, and blade combination; the Xandarians and their Novaforce; the Jotun ice rapiers; the Kree overreliance on bioengineering; the Sakaarans’ serrated cleavers; Xartan mind games. She trains her body in swordplay and martial arts until the ground is slick with her sweat, and every muscle aches, and she does it all again the next day.

 The Asgardian court, the landed gentry, they start whispering about how unbecoming this practice is for a princess. They start wringing their hands and worrying if she or her father will ever marry and ensure succession. They make snide comments that she’d be more likely to find a soulmate if she spent her time and resources on doing something a little more ladylike than fighting.

 Hela prefers the commonfolk, who think of her as a terrifying harbinger of doom.

 This assessment echoes across the Nine Realms once the hunt for the Stones truly begins. Blades fly the moment her heel hits the planet. She can throw daggers fifty yards and still hit her target, can summon swords in both hands to fight hand-to-hand against three at once, can pull claymores from the ground to turn the very landscape into a weapon. But all this is fruitless target practice if the victims around her don’t know anything about the bloody Space Stone and where to find it.

 On their sixth sacking, Hela finally gets a worthwhile lead. She has a scientist under her boot, frantically pleading for his life. He claims he was one of the leading researchers studying the Space Stone when it was in his planet’s possession five years prior.

 “It doesn’t look like a stone anymore!” he cries. “We needed a vessel to harness its power.”

 “Then what does it look like?” she asks, growing bored.

 “How familiar are you with four-dimensional geometry? It’s more than a cube, it’s a—”

 She summons a blade from the ground beneath the man’s neck, skewering him.

 “—a tesseract,” she finishes. She stalks off in the direction of her father, leaving bloody bootprints in her path.

 -

 It is two more years of searching before the Tesseract is in her hands. Hela has expected this moment for longer than some species’ lifetimes, and yet—

 The Aether, the Tesseract, and four more to go. She is one-third of the way to becoming who she is meant to be. Her father is working with the Dwarves to build a device to wield the Stones, surely she should feel something knowing that her plan is well underway. She can stat to envision a day when she might wear her soulmark freely, no more leather wristguards or ornamented bracelets. One third, two out of six, she ought to feel more than just the eerie smoothness of the cube at her fingertips. The must be something.

 But the Stone does not satisfy.

 -

 Planets fall. The Asgardian coffers swell.

 The King and his Executioner chase rumor after rumor and leave few survivors in their wake.

 -

 On Vormir, she cannot hide who she is any longer.

 The guardian tells them that one of them must sacrifice their soulmate.

 “A steep price,” Odin muses, “and one I cannot pay. I have not met her—and if I had, I would not trade my kingdom for the Stone. My match is destined to be my Queen.”

 “That is what I suspected you would say.”

 “And if we killed you?” Hela asks archly.

 “Forgive my Executioner for her lack of manners,” Odin says.

 The guardian smiles joylessly. “Then I would be dead, and the Stones would replace me, perhaps this year, or in a thousand. But you would be no closer to what you seek.”

 “My child,” Odin says, “I cannot—will not—command you to sacrifice your soulmate and your intended. However, I will not stop you, either. This quest of ours is for the protection and advancement of Asgard; if you know your match, I will not judge you for this.”

 “Father,” she starts, her head spinning. “I—” But there are no words, no excuses, no lies.

 “You do have a mark, do you not?”

 She swallows thickly. “I do.”

 “Is it a name I know?”

 “Not exactly.”

 He looks bemused. “Is it, or is it not? Have I met your intended?”

 She wishes the planet would swallow her whole. “I have no intended.”

 “But you have a mark? Explain yourself.”

 She rolls her eyes and rips the bracelet from her wrist, baring the name beneath.

 Odin does not speak for a long time. This is a face she knows well, the face he wears when he debates whether or not to execute a criminal, to send a helpless soul to her waiting blades.

 “What are you?” he finally whispers. “What monstrosity have you become?”

 “Spare me your sanctimony, Father. I am as I was yesterday, and the day previous: your executioner.”

 “Yesterday, you were my executioner. Today, you are woman whose soul is bound inextricably to death.”

 “Truly, a perfect executioner,” she observes rather glibly. But her father is in no gaming mood.

 “If I found a man called Death, could I have him sit the throne with you? Is that what you expect of me?”

 “I expect you to let me rule, as is my right! I do not need a soulmark to validate my birthright.”

 “We must leave this place,” Odin says. “It is imperative I find my match—secure the throne and the succession—instead of going on treasure hunts.”

 She does not budge from the precipice. “You value the idea of your precious Frigga more than you do me, your daughter, your heir, your co-ruler! I am Asgard’s true queen!”

 “How many have you killed, Hela? Not in battle to protect Asgard, not as my executioner, but killed in this mad quest for Stones? Thousands, easily, if not millions. And I let myself be talked into thinking this a valiant idea. I am a fool.” He hangs his head. “And you are a monster.”

 Hela has been on a gold leash her whole life, a series of rules and expectations that she be an Asgardian princess. It is a loose leash, to be sure, one that allows for her to train her magic and to fight in battle, but she nevertheless feels the constant threat of expectation that she marry and become someone’s queen. With her soulmark finally bared, with her father not bothering to hide his disappointment and shame, the leash is cut; she is free.

 For a few brief seconds, at least.

 On the crags of Vormir, drawing from the deep magical wells of this planet, Odin begins the spell that will seal her away as long as he draws breath.

 -

 He strikes her from every record. But some rumors and whispers survive, turned from history into fantastical poetry and lore. Odin cannot execute every bard who speaks his daughter’s name, so he allows her to become a dark legend, a mysterious shadow in Asgard’s past. And for millennia, that is all she remains.

[9worldstales]

INTERESTING POINTS TO PONDER FROM INTERVIEWS 7

Interviews might not remain forever available or not be easy to find so I’ve decided to link them and transcribe the points I find of some interest so as to preserve them should the interview had to end up removed.

It’s not complete transcriptions, just the bits I think can be relevant but I wholeheartedly recommend reading the whole thing.

And of course I also comment all this because God forbid I’ll keep silent… :P

Title: EXCLUSIVE: Screenwriter Don Payne Talks Thor!

Author: Elisabeth Rappe

Published: Feb 23, 2011

BEST BITS FROM THE INTERVIEW

ABOUT THE SCRIPT FOR “THOR”

Thor has seen a lot of screenwriters come and go, and I imagine that led to some very drastic changes to the character and story. Can you talk at all about that process, and what changes were made over the course of project? (For example, I know rumors swirled very early that the Thor movie would be an origin story with his alter ego, Dr. Donald Blake!) How did the script come together? At what point in the process did you come on board, and what was your contribution?

Don Payne: First off, for the record, the final, official WGA writing credits for the film are “Story by J. Michael Straczynski and Mark Protosevich, Screenplay by Ashley Edward Miller & Zack Stentz and Don Payne.” Any other writing credits you might have seen elsewhere are either outdated or incorrect.

As far as how the script came together, J. Michael Straczynski and Mark Protosevich worked on the project before Kenneth Branagh came on board to direct. At that point, Ken and Marvel sat down and decided exactly what kind of story they wanted to tell. They took everything that had been written so far and figured out a game plan. Marvel then hired Ashley Miller and Zack Stentz, and, as I understand it, those guys worked pretty intensely on the screenplay over the course of four or five months. After they left the project, Marvel hired me, and I stayed on all the way through the end — about a year and a half total. For the first eight months, I continued to develop, rewrite, and restructure the screenplay, bringing in new characters and new scenes. I worked closely with Ken and Marvel throughout the process, and, as the cast came together, I worked with Ken and the actors during rehearsals here and in London.

Then, once production started in January 2010, I was on set writing every day, both at the studio in Manhattan Beach and on location in New Mexico, and continued to work through post-production.

I’d like to say more about how the script has evolved since the very beginning of the development process, but I don’t want to spoil anything. I hate spoilers. (Mostly because I’m weak, and I can’t resist them myself!) But I’ll be happy to talk about it all after the film comes out. What I can say is that this really has been the greatest writing experience of my life. I’ve never worked harder or been as closely involved day-to-day on a project as I have on Thor.

And as far as Thor’s alter-ego goes, as Kevin Feige has said, people looking for a Donald Blake reference might just find one.

ABOUT THOR’S JOURNEY AND FAMILY

I know you’ve worked with iconic superheroes before, was Thor more or less daunting to deal with? He’s a real anachronistic, medieval character. How do you bring that into the modern world? Is it ultimately the same as trying to make any superhero realistic and relatable?

Don Payne: Well, I think the challenges are pretty apparent. As you say, Thor’s a unique character, and it’s an unusual story we’re telling. When you’ve got something like Captain America, the premise is easier to get right away — he’s a superhero fighting Nazis in World War II. Whereas we’ve got an extra-dimensional being once worshipped as a god by the ancient Norse who’s banished to earth and stripped of his powers to learn humility, all set amidst the Shakespearean intrigue of a dysfunctional royal family. It’s not as simple to grasp.

You just have to find the things that make Thor timeless and relatable as a character. It certainly helps that he’s charismatic and likeable, albeit flawed. He’s banished for good reason, but I think people will want to go on the journey with him and root for him to find redemption — particularly with Chris Hemsworth’s performance.

I think what really makes Thor relatable are the family relationships. There’s a lot of dysfunction in the House of Odin. Thor’s got a hard-ass father and a jealous brother. But for all of Thor’s hardheaded rebelliousness, he, like Loki, is really just trying to live up to his father’s expectations and make him proud. I think people can relate to that father and son dynamic.

ABOUT SIF, THE WARRIORS THREE AND HEIMDALL

What can you tell me about the parts popular Asgardians such as Heimdall, the Warriors Three, and Sif play in the overall plot? Will we see more of them in other Marvel movies? Is there potential for a Sif spinoff, as she has enjoyed in the comics?

Don Payne: The Warriors Three and Sif are very much like they are in the comics. They’re fierce warriors who are fiercely dedicated to their friend Thor. They’ll follow him anywhere — which might not always be the wisest thing. Also, as in the comics, Heimdall is bound by duty and honor to guard his post on the Rainbow Bridge, and he’s got serious issues with anyone who tries to cross it who would endanger Asgard.

As far as seeing these characters in other movies or their own spin-off films, I think Marvel already has a full slate of projects in development, so I imagine we’ll only see them as part of the Thor franchise. But you never know. I’d ask Kevin Feige if I were you!

ON THE HUMOUR OF THE MOVIE

One element that jumped out at me in the trailer was the comedy – it felt very light and natural, not corny. (Jane reacting to Thor’s name, for example, or the coffee cup scene.) How did you strike the balance between the comedy and drama of the piece? Were there moments where you thought “Ok, this goes too far with the fish-out-of-water joke”?

Don Payne: Well, my hope is we’ve included just enough humor in the script, but no more than that. This isn’t a comedy, and that’s not what I was hired to do. It’s an action film, and, as in all action films, you need those fun moments. But you have to do it sparingly. You don’t want things to get silly.

One thing we all agreed about early on was to make sure we were careful about how we approached the fish-out-of-water moments. We didn’t want Thor to come to earth and suddenly become an idiot for comic relief. Even without his powers, he’s the same person on earth as he was in Asgard — a smart, headstrong warrior. He’s a being from an advanced race who’s used to travelling to other worlds and thinking on his feet. We didn’t want him looking at a television set and going, “What is yon magic box, with phantoms that move and speak inside it?”

Still, he’s on unfamiliar turf, and there’s some fun in that. You just have to find the right balance. You also want to have fun moments and dialogue during the action sequences, so you put those into the script. Of course, those bits are the easiest to cut in editing if you find the jokes are too much or too distracting. You can pick and choose.

ON JANE AND DARCY

I particularly liked how Jane and Darcy react to Thor’s arrival. They aren’t immediately throwing themselves at him. They think he’s hot, but likely to be crazy. I know you’re a staunch feminist, so I imagine their portrayal was important to you. Can you talk about how you approached them? It seems rare to have two girls in a single Marvel film, possibly competing for Thor’s attention. How did that play into the romance, and how did you approach the relationship between Thor and Jane? Did Natalie Portman and Kat Dennings have any input into their characters?

Don Payne: Kat did an amazing job taking the words on the page as written and making them fly. She really embodied the character of Darcy.

After the second trailer came out, I read some people mistakenly speculate that her character was created as a marketing decision to appeal to the youth audience or some such thing — as if the producers sat down and said, “Hmm… this script is good, but we need a character to appeal to the tweens! With current pop cultural references!” I promise you, that wasn’t the case at all. I came up with Darcy because we needed someone to work with Jane Foster, and the character had to have a vastly different background, personality, and world-view from Jane in order to make that relationship interesting. I decided to make her a woman, frankly, because other than Sif and Frigga, we had a very male-heavy cast of characters. I thought it might also be interesting to have someone working for Jane who both frustrated her and who Jane saw as protégé whose potential she could help fully realize.

But I also wanted Darcy to be the voice of the common man. We’ve got Asgardians and astrophysicists, so I wanted someone to say what the average moviegoer might be thinking. If someone in the audience is thinking, “What the hell is that weird, glowing thing?!” Darcy should be asking “What the hell is that weird, glowing thing?!” (That line isn’t actually in the movie, but you get the idea…)

Natalie actually helped out tremendously with the character of Jane Foster. Let’s be honest, Jane Foster in the comics has traditionally been one of the most boring characters in the Marvel Universe. In the film, she’s an astrophysicist, so that makes her more interesting right off the bat. And it doesn’t hurt that she’s played by Natalie, who brings loads of personality and charm to any character she portrays.

Originally in the script, however, Jane was more of a traditional scientist — a hardcore skeptic. But Natalie came to the first rehearsal with the idea of turning that on its end. She suggested making Jane the believer. She thought Jane could be more of a kind of “scientist as poet” — someone who thinks outside of the box, someone whose theories are considered outlandish and are frowned upon by the scientific community. But it’s the kind of thinking that leads to great discoveries. When Thor arrives, she’s willing to take a leap of faith — and she has to pay the consequences for it. Natalie’s input made the character more interesting, improved her relationship with Thor, and, in general, made the story better. And she helped make sure Jane Foster isn’t boring. So I’m grateful to her for that.

During my story meetings with Ken and Marvel, we put a lot of work into the Thor/Jane relationship, and there was much discussion about exactly how and how quickly things should progress between them. I think we succeeded in developing their romance realistically, so it doesn’t feel forced.

ABOUT HEIMDALL AND THE MCU TAKE

There has also been a lot of ugly and foolish controversy about Idris Elba being cast as Heimdall. I don’t like to justify bigotry with attention, but has the reaction surprised you and the rest of the team?

Don Payne: You’d think as a society we’d be beyond this now. The funny thing is, this film was never meant to be a straight representation of traditional Norse mythology. It’s the cinematic take on the Marvel comics take on Norse mythology. In fact, in the reality of our movie, the Norse myths are actually based on our version of the Asgardians, after they visited ancient Norway. The Norse just got some things wrong, based on their primitive understanding of their encounters. (Like, for example, worshiping the Asgardians as gods.)

The bottom line is Idris is great in the movie. I think almost all of the people who are skeptical or have issues with the casting will be convinced when they see the movie — except for all the actual racists out there. But who needs them?

MY TWO CENTS

This interview is so goddamn awesome because it’s so informative. Don Payne talked about a lot of topics and didn’t give just two lines answers but well rounded explanations. There’s so much more than the bits I’ve selected but I couldn’t really copypaste it all, though I wholeheartedly recommend you to read it.

I’d kill to get a peck at the old scripts but definitely there was a lot of work ongoing to produce the definitive one.

Anyway I love how almost all Marvel seems to know Odin is a bad father yet Odin doesn’te ven get a slap on his wrists. Really guys...

I like how he admits Thor’s journey is one of redemption... but really that’s not how you made a redemption arc...

I also find interesting how again we get a confirmation that Sif and the Warriors Three are ‘fiercely dedicated to THEIR FRIEND THOR’.

In the movie Thor says:

Thor: Why don't you tell her how you sent the Destroyer to kill our friends, to kill me?

But the truth is that those were his friends, not both’s. For the Warriors Three and Sif there was never a choice between Thor and Loki. They were Thor’s friends and to him their loyalty went.

I also like how he says he hopes they included enough humor, but no more than that as this is an action film, and, while fun moments are needed they need to have them sparingly of things get silly. How they didn’t want Thor to come to earth and suddenly become an idiot for comic relief. How they didn’t want for the jokes to end up being too distracting. I think this speaks of care for the story.

They even put care in creating Jane and Darcy. I still think they could do Jane better, but still they tried.

[fairyartlover-writes]

Fanfic: Nancy Mulligan

Hello again, dear reader. I have another Loki fic for you today, and this one was a gift for a lovely friend of mine. They have a tumblr account but their not active on it. If you wish to find them and their, frankly, fantastic stories, go ckeck out baby_novak_winchester_67 on AO3. Their currently working on a Bucky/OFC story. Go give them some love.

Anyway, thank you for reading, dear reader. I hope you enjoy! =)

Summary: I met her in what midgardians called the Second World War. I cannot remember exactly why I was there, probably attempting to escape Asgard or Odin’s grasp, but it doesn’t matter now. What mattered is that I met her

Rating: Teen and Up audience

Warnings: Major Character Death

Pairings: Loki/OFC, Loki & OC

“I met her in what midgardians called the Second World War. I cannot remember exactly why I was there, probably attempting to escape Asgard or Odin’s grasp, but it doesn’t matter now. What mattered is that I met her. She was beautiful, the most beautiful woman I have ever met. Her wild, dark hair would always fall into her face, no matter how much she tried to tame it. Her dark eyes were the kindest, and the wisest I have ever had the fortune to admire. Her face was scattered with constellations, constellations I would try to decipher every time I gazed at her. Her name was Nancy Mulligan, a name I had never heard on Asgard, but a name that fit her well.

She was a nurse in the war. They had dragged me into the hospital, brought in by a mere scratch, mistaken for a wounded civilian. I had been raving and yelling at anybody who would come near me to let me go. At one point they had strapped me onto a bed, thinking me mad. Of course, I could have broken out of those puny bonds at any time, but all thought of escaping left my mind when she came in. She was cautious as she came near, but I could not detect an ounce of fear from her, not like the rest who had tried to approach. She even smiled, and I swore she was a sorceress, for I have never felt more entranced as I was by her smile.

Hence, I feigned being a midgardian. I had to know if she was indeed a sorceress, for if she could enchant me without my knowing, then she must have been one of the most powerful magic wielders in the Realms. Each day I would spend in that ward was absolutely mind numbing except for the moments where she would come to my bedside. Each time she came she wore that same entrancing smile. I was a fool to think she was a sorceress, but I had never felt before the feeling I would get when she was near. My heart would start beating wildly; my mind would stand still, unable to form a coherent thought. I did not know what was happening to me, but I knew it was because of her. So, my foolish mind had come to the conclusion that she had put a spell on me, and she had, but not the type of spell that I had thought of.

I had already healed from the scratch the day they brought me in, but I had to find out who she was and to put an end to her scheme. I had put an illusion to trick the medical staff and I would not allow anyone but Nancy at my bedside. I would make them run, one way or another, as I am known to do. They had pegged me for a mad man but could not understand as to why I would let her near. Nancy was the only one able to examine me, and each time I would interrogate her. I did not realize until much later that my “interrogations” were confused as attempts at conversation. She seemed to like those conversations, and as time went on, I stopped pretending they were anything but. Thoughts of sorcery escaped my mind as I spent more time talking to her. She later said that she enjoyed my attempts at “interrogation” and had found them “sweet”. I had felt insulted, at first, to be called “sweet”, but I could not stay mad at her for any significant amount of time. She only had to smile and everything else seemed insignificant. As long as she smiled at me the same way she always did, then nothing else mattered.

Of course, the time came where I could no longer pretend to be injured, or midgardian. That day was wholly chaotic, even for my taste. I do not know why, but there was an influx of soldiers coming into the hospital. There were commands and shouts coming from every direction. Every doctor, nurse, and helper had their hands full. Soldiers were mad with pain, crying, demanding, begging for it all to go away. I have seen my fair share of battles, do not be mistaken, and the marks they have let on warriors. But I saw those mortals, beings I have always seen as inferior and unremarkable, with wounds that would make even the mightiest Asgardian beg for Valhalla. I saw how the doctors and the nurses tried their best to save every single one of them with the primitive technology and resources they had, I saw how they cared for their patients, I saw how they fought on when no resources where left, I saw it all. And I was amazed.

I have never been called a bleeding heart, and I have never felt sympathy for those in pain, but seeing those soldiers, with wounds not even an Asgardian would be able to survive, suffering but bearing the pain, I did what needed to be done. I broke out of the pathetic bonds they had put me in and used my seidr to heal the soldiers. Some of the wounds were too extensive even for my seidr, but I did what I could. Nobody understood what it was I was doing, but if it helped with the healing, they would not question it, for now.

Hours passed and by the end of it I could barely stand on my feet. Using that amount of seidr for as long as I did would make any lesser wielder faint, but I managed to walk back to my cot. I do not know why I did what I did, as I have said: I am not known for being a bleeding heart. But ever since entering that midgardian hospital, the way I perceived things had changed. And it was not all because of Nancy, although she was a large factor in that change.

After the crisis was handled, I was strapped once again to the bed. I could have at any time broken out of them, and they knew. But, for some reason that I am glad to have followed, I let the bonds remain. The person to approach me after the crisis was, of course, Nancy.

This was the only time that I have ever seen fear in her eyes as she talked to me. I cannot describe how wrong seeing that fear made me feel. At that moment I vowed to myself that she would never have to look upon me in that way again.

I explained everything to her. Asgard, my seidr, every question she had and more. At the end there was the longest silence I have ever had to endure, and I did not endure it well. With every second that passed, my heart grew heavier with dread. As I was waiting for an answer from her, she did the one thing I never expected. She stood up and walked away. My heart broke into pieces with every step she took.

I did not know what would happen to me after that moment and, if she was not going to be there during that time, then I found no reason to stay. That night, when every solider in the hospital was asleep, I left.

But a surprise met me as I neared the entrance. There, haloed by the warm glow of the lamps, stood Nancy, waiting. I did not know if I should run to her or away, such were the warring emotions inside me. Fortunately, I did not have to decide anything. She walked towards me and with every step she took, my broken heart mended. She finished healing it when she pressed her lips to mine.

There are different kind of kisses: passionate ones, gentle ones, playful, sorrowful. But this kiss was a kiss that heals one’s souls; that burns and soothes and makes you feel whole in ways that you never knew were possible until that kiss. This kiss only happens with the person whose seen your soul for what it is and loves it with their whole being, even if you do not.

This kiss was that, but oh so much more.

After we kissed, I could not bear the thought of departing from her, therefore I asked her to come with me to Asgard, but I knew what her answer would be. She had to stay. I knew she had her family, and her work as a nurse gave her a purpose that I knew she wouldn’t find there. I tried persuading her, but she alone was immune to my silver tongue.

Leaving someone had never hurt as much as leaving Nancy did, for I knew she was the one that I wanted to spend my life with. It pained me to leave her in the midst of a war without knowing what could happen, but I had to. Odin would have noticed my absence by then and I could not risk bringing him to Midgard. I vowed to her that I would find her and that we would spend our lives together.

With tears in her eyes and a stone in my stomach, I left.

I returned to Asgard and none but Frigga had noticed my absence. I hid my anger, as I always did, and resumed life as it was before my visit to Midgard, but nothing was the same.

Time passed and I never forgot Nancy or my promise to her. I only trusted Frigga with this secret, and I made her swear that she would not tell Odin, but I knew without the vow that she would not. It seemed like an eternity had gone by before I saw her again.

When I saw her after our time apart, she was even more beautiful than I remembered. My memories did not do her justice. The war had ended, and she had returned to her home in southern Ireland. Time had stopped when I saw her for the first time after so long apart. There was only her and she was everything that mattered. One moment she was across the street and the next she was in my arms and I have never felt such bliss as I did in that moment. She was back in my arms and I never intended to let her go.

I met her family after a month of courting, and two months after that we were married and living in a house that her brother had bought us.

The moments I shared with her in our home were the happiest I have ever had. A meal has never been grander than when I shared it with her on our second-hand table; mornings have never been brighter than when I woke up beside her; sleep has never been as inviting as it was with her in my arms.

There would be days where I had to return to Asgard as to not arouse suspicion, but I would always return to our home, to her, to Nancy. Frigga was the only one who knew of her and she would at times visit us in our home. She adored Nancy and embarrassed me with tales of my childhood. My embarrassment would fade as soon as I heard her laughs and I would join them in their laughter.

Everything was perfect, until it was not.

On the anniversary of our marriage, she revealed something that would forever change our lives. She was with child. Our child. Every moment of happiness I had ever had paled in comparison with this. We were going to be parents. There was a life growing inside her, a life that we swore to love and protect until the end. That night was one of the happiest of my life.

Every morning, she would look at herself in the mirror and search for any changes on her body. The smile on her face when the bump first appeared could rival the sun with its brightness.

She visited the doctors when it was required and nothing was wrong, not until you started kicking. As the months passed, she would always be cold. She would shiver even in front of the fireplace, buried underneath a hundred of our warmest blankets. In the last months of her pregnancy, she could not get out of bed with how the cold affected her. The doctors said that there was nothing wrong. How I enjoyed frightening them when they did nothing.

All day, she would be in bed trembling and I could do nothing. I felt helpless as my efforts to lessen her cold were in vain.

One night, she suddenly stopped. I woke up to find that she had stopped moving. She was barely breathing. For the first time in my life, I felt fear. I did not know what to do, but I knew that the help she needed was not on Midgard. I have never run as fast as I did that night with Nancy in my arms. I called for Heimdall. There was no time to use the portals. I never thought that her first visit to Asgard would be her last.

A horse was already waiting for us when we arrived. I did not spear a glance at Heimdall, not caring at the moment if he informed Odin or not. The only thing that mattered were you and Nancy. I could feel her grow colder in my arms as the horse took us to the palace. I did not dare cry or think of the possibility that she would not survive, for how could she not? She was my everything, every happy moment in my life was because of her. How could I fathom the thought of a life without her?

When the horse arrived at the gates of the palace, her lips had turned blue and I could no longer feel her breathing. I do not remember what happened next. One moment she was in my arms and the next she was on a bed with healers rushing around her. I remember being pushed to the side and starring helplessly as she did not wake up.

She did not wake up even as your screams tore through the ward. She did not wake up even as the healers stopped and stood back. Only then did I let myself cry. The unfathomable had happened.

Nancy had died.

I realized then that you would have a future without her. You would have to grow up without knowing her, without knowing her love and her utter adoration for you. All of the happiness our new future had promised had vanished in less than a moment.

It did not take long for Odin to arrive at the scene. A sheet had been placed over her body and you were asleep in my arms. I remember not caring that he was there, even as he demanded answers, even as he raged on. I remember only staring down at your sleeping blue face, emotions raging inside me, each fighting for dominance. Betrayal, sorrow, anger, joy.

Betrayal at having been lied to for the entirety of my life about my true parentage. Sorrow that I had lost my Nancy, and that your future and mine would not have her in it. Anger that I was the cause of her death. And joy, for I finally got to hold you in my arms.

I only acknowledged Odin when he threatened you. He had said that you should not have existed and that it would be a mercy to end your life. I am known for never showing my true emotions, but at that moment, with him threatening your life, the only thing I could do was rage. I do not remember if you were in my arms or not, but I unleashed all the anger I had, all the sorrow, all the betrayal. I unleashed it all on Odin and he could do nothing but stand there. And how I took joy in it. The only reason I had stopped was because you had started crying. I remember stopping cold in my words and suddenly, all the emotion left me. The only thing left inside me was the need to protect you. I would have to raise you alone, protect you from everyone who would do you harm. And at that moment, Odin was the threat and I had to protect you, my child.

I did not hesitate in grabbing you. I did the only thing my mind could process at the time. I took you and Nancy away from Asgard. I knew that it would be unlikely that I would ever return, not that I would want to or be welcomed, mind you.

Even now I do not know how I did it. I remember teleporting us near one of the portals, but I do not remember how we arrived at our home back on Midguard. The only thing I remember immediately after was feeding you while Nancy’s body laid on our bed.

I informed your mother’s family the day after our escape from Asgard. Her funeral was the following week.

I do not have any memories of the weeks following Nancy’s funeral. I only remember the overwhelming grief that surrounded me, but I do remember that you were the sole reason I made it through those weeks. I was plagued by my emotions, drowned in them, but I would be damned if I did not take care of you. You, the tiny little person who we were so eager to meet. You, one of the most precious things that I ever had the privilege to hold. You, whose mere existence made me get out of bed. You, you, you. How could I do anything but do my damn best at taking care of you? The moment I knew of your impending existence I knew I would always love and protect you, no matter what.”

The two figures sat beside the fireplace. The older of the two, the father, sat on an old armchair, across which sat an identical one that he never dared to sit on. The father did not look old, no wrinkles marred his face, but his sharp, green eyes showed his true age. In his lap, curled comfortably and listening with all the attention he could muster, was his son. The son could not have been older than six. He had his father’s dark, straight hair, but his eyes were a complete contrast to his. They were round and wide and dark, eyes which held an innocence only a child could have. His eyes showed his true age. The father had his arms around his son and only at the end of his tale did he look down at him.

“Did you know you have your mother’s eyes?” The son grew excited at the new information. His smile shown brighter than the hearth that they sat in front of, one of his front teeth missing. “And her freckles.” The father added with a smile. His son was bouncing in his lap with the information he was given. He had his mother’s eyes and freckles!

“But you do have my very straight nose and my very straight hair.” The father said. He passed one finger down the bridge of his son’s nose and tapped the end of it, eliciting a giggle from him. The father pressed a kiss to the crown of his son’s head and lingered there. His giggles quieted as he curled closer to his father, giving as much comfort as he received.

“Do you have a picture of mummy?” The son asked. The father looked down at him and smiled a small smile. He sat back and took out an old looking picture from the front pocket of his shirt. One could tell it was old from the frayed corners of the picture, but other than that it was perfectly preserved. In the picture sat a woman on a low wall. The woman had an exasperated look on her face as she reached for something the person behind the camera had. The woman was beautiful. Her round dark eyes were laughing even as her mouth was open in mid-shout, or maybe mid-laugh. A popsicle was held loosely in her outstretched hands and one could imagine that in the next second, the frozen treat had ended up on the grass. Her hair was unruly mess. The wind in that moment was doing a very fine job at blowing the hair out of her face, and into it.

She looked happy.

“Is that mummy?” The child asked with awe. She was so pretty! He didn’t notice the sad smile his father had, but he did notice the arm around him holding him tighter.

“Yes, it is. I took this picture. She had taken me to the Moors that day for a walk. Your mother had not stopped taking pictures of the sights all throughout the day. I was not happy at being ignored, so in a fit of jealousy, I took the camera from her and took photos of her instead. She was very embarrassed and not amused.” He said with a smile. “That was a happy day.” He said quietly. His son didn’t seem to hear him, his eyes solely focused on the woman in the picture. His mummy. She looked very happy. He leaned his head against his father’s chest, a finger tracing her face in the photo.

“She looks very happy.” He said. His father leaned his head on top of his. Both were looking at the picture with similar faces. They sat in silence for a few moments, the warmth of the hearth warming them in a comforting way. The son could feel his father turning his head to press a kiss on top of it. He lingered there.

“She would have loved you so much.” The father whispered into his son’s hair, hoping he couldn’t hear it. He did.

The father and son sat in front of the fireplace holding each other, staring at the picture of the laughing woman. They sat there for the rest of the night, wishing with all their being that they could be with the person in that picture.

Soon the son fell asleep against his father’s chest, his eyes slowly closing, the picture of the laughing woman the last thing his eyes see before succumbing sleep. His father knew the moment his son fell asleep but did nothing to move him. He let his son rest against him a little longer. He hugged his son tight and stared at the photo of Nancy. He rested his head against his son’s sleeping one, and passed a thumb over the picture, as if trying to feel (or remember) the softness of her skin once more.

When his arm and legs grew numb from his son’s weight, the father stood up and took his son to bed. He walked the distance from the room to his son’s bedroom, the walls all covered with pictures. Mostly of his son, some of Nancy’s family, some of him with his son or Nancy’s family. In all the pictures, the people were smiling and one could tell that the smiles were genuine.

The father tucked his son to bed, pressing one last lingering kiss to his head. His son’s only response was to snuggle closer to his felt fox. The father gently lowered himself on the edge of his son’s bed, trying to burn the image into his mind for eternity. He was shocked when he felt the tears run down his face, and once he acknowledged them, he could not stop them. No sobs racked his frame, nor wails. The tears fell silently from his face and onto his knees. He looked away from his son and stared at the wall in front of him. The tears continued to fall silently. He dug his palms into his eyes to stop them, but they only came faster. He buried his face in his hands and cried at the edge of his sleeping son’s bed.

He cried for all that was lost, not only for him but for his son. His precious son. His son that would never feel the warmth of his mother’s embrace, his son that would never feel her love or her kindness, his son that is growing up without her.

He cries for all that Nancy lost. He cries because she will never know how it feels to hear their son’s laughter, to have the most interesting and mind-boggling conversations with him, to have him in her arms. He cries because she never got to know their son.

And at last, he cries for all the things he lost. He cries for the stolen sight of seeing Nancy and their son baking in their mess of a kitchen. He cries for all the stolen lullabies that she would have sung. He cries for all the stolen kisses, laughter, smiles. He cries for all the stolen tears and fights. He cries for all the stolen moments that they could have had.

He cries.

When the tears dry up, he stays there for a moment longer. He hears his son’s gentle breathing, the rustling of the leaves outside, the crackling of the hearth in the other room and the creaking of the floorboards that he said he would fix. He stays there for a moment longer because it is only in these moments, in these sounds, that he hears her. He hears her love in his son’s breathing, he hears her voice in the leaves, he hears her laughter in the hearth, and he hears her dancing in the floorboards. He knows she in not there, but he hears her.

He hears her in everything their son does. In his laughing, in his ramblings, in his mumblings of ducks and dinosaurs. With the changing of the season, he hears her in the singing of the birds, in the whispers of the wind. He sees her dancing amidst the flowers and the grass, sees her in the face of their son, sees her in the moments between waking and sleeping.

He wishes he could hold her in his arms again, see her without thinking himself mad, but in these small moments, when everything is quiet and still, he swears he can feel her warmth by his side and he can finally remember clearly what it felt like to have her in his arms, to see the brightness of her smile.

Maybe she is there, maybe she is not, but he will treasure these moments as much as he treasures every memory of her and of his son.

He would cry in these small moments, where the world was quiet and still. He would cry for all that was lost and all that was stolen. Only then would he cry. Only then would he let himself hear her.

When the small moment ends, the father stands up from the edge of his son’s bed and walks across the hall to his own bedroom. He changes into his sleeping clothes, gets into the too big bed and closes his eyes. Before he succumbs to sleep, he feels a kiss to his cheek, but by the time the thought register in his mind, he is already sleeping.

Thank you for reading! Hope you enjoyed!

AO3: FairyArtLover

Fanfiction: WhiteLunaNight

[evien-stark]

✧I Need You✧ Chapter 96

While tensions were middling and approaching high, you thought it might be a good time for a team get-together. A little reminder that you were all in this together, no matter what challenges came for you. So you put out a small invite amongst your little family. The Avenger side and the Stark side, and luckily for you, everyone got back with a warm approval. So. With the end of December holiday out... A New Year’s party was on the docket. Almost immediately after Steve had confronted you. The quicker you could get everyone in a room laughing together, the better. It was almost a little disheartening to see how they all sort of… drifted when you and Tony weren’t directly around. 

But, after the next day, you yourself had something to make up for. And you were glad Thor hadn’t spited you by disappearing yet again. You may have deserved it, after all that- even if he had deserved it initially. But if you kept playing that game in an endless circle, who knew where the two of you might have ended up? 

He was on the deck in the freezing afternoon air, sitting on the edge. Noticeably absent, you couldn’t help but mention, as you drew your coat around you tightly and moved to sit down. “Where’s Jane?” You really had wanted to speak with her a little more. Get to know her. 

His smile was faint but fond as he turned to look at you. “It’s good to see you, Lady. Jane had to leave to attend a conference. She will be unable to attend the festivities. She asked me to send her apologies.” 

“That’s alright.” It kind of sucked, but it wasn’t the end of the world. “It’s good to see you, too. Uh… I hope you’re not mad Tony and I took off like that.” Just deciding to get this over with now. 

A small huff of laughter escaped him as he shook his head. “Not at all. Although I think I would have liked your help around here a little more than anyone else’s.” 

“They picking on you?” Teasing him a little. 

He grinned. “They would be foolish to try. No. I just thought… you built this for us, didn’t you? It would have been nice to see it through your eyes.”

You weren’t sure what he was getting at, really. It was just some living quarters. Not bare, pretty well put together- if you did say so yourself (and you did). But it wasn’t like a kingdom or anything. “I built it for us, yes- although- technically- Tony did a lot of the actual building.” As if he’d ever let you forget it. 

“As did the hands that put down the stone, I’m sure. But that’s not what I’m talking about.” He turned half aside to look at you, so you returned the gesture, sitting back a little to look at him. “How are you, Lady?” 

It would have been nice for him to expand on whatever he was trying to get at, but with the subject change you found yourself shrugging. “Just got back from a little retreat, and I already feel like I need another one. How about you?” 

“I am… managing.” You really weren’t expecting this- although only just now did you remember what he said to you on the phone a month ago, before you caught up with him. Blue bloomed forward from him and he settled his hands together. “I was given free reign- I am no longer tied to Asgard. But my heart aches every time I think of it.” 

“Are you- are you debriefing me right now?” Worried he was just giving you an update because somebody told him that’s what he was supposed to do. “Because you don’t have to do that. We don’t have to talk about- ...any of that, if you don’t want to.” Not wanting him to feel forced into sharing. 

He found another smile, raising a hand to clasp your shoulder. “I am grateful for your care, as always, Lady. But… If you wouldn’t mind…” He seemed to be having trouble saying whatever it was he wanted to say. 

Trying to suss it out was difficult, but you tried your best. “I’m here, if you wanna talk to me, Thor. I’m not going anywhere. ...even if it is freezing up here.” 

You were rewarded with a short clap of laughter. “Shall we go inside?” 

“I can make hot chocolate. And you can tell me whatever you’d like.” 

“I’d like that.” 

He offered a hand to help you to your feet, and the two of you went inside. Instead of staying in the Messhall, you took him upstairs to the penthouse. Tony was downstairs in the lab working, so you expected that would be the most private place to be. While you set some water to boil on the stove and he sat down at the table, he started off quiet. 

The last battle- the one that had brought Malekith to earth- had been a hard fought one for him. As you assumed it would be. He had told you that Loki had lost his life in trying to aid him and Jane, and you expected that’s where his sadness was coming from. Though Loki was by no means your favorite person, and you would have liked to speak with him, the fact that he was Thor’s brother and Thor’s love for him was no secret, made it that much easier to understand his grief. 

But then… 

Then he told you of Frigga. His mother. Warrior Queen. Not a woman to be trifled with. And how she had come to perish by Malekith’s malice. 

You settled your hands over his then. “Thor, I’m so sorry.” 

His eyes avoided yours, downcast, yet he bravely showed a soft smile. “I think of her- often- there is so much still I wanted to say. So much I fear I still needed her for, and now…” You remained quiet, to let him talk. But he looked up suddenly and locked eyes with you. “She would have adored you.” 

“Me?” The word popped out of your mouth before you could try to stop it. Incredulous and confused. Thor was the teammate you’d known for the least amount of time. Though it didn’t mean you liked him any less- surely not. You really did enjoy his company, and you trusted him, like you did the others. But for him to say this to you knowing it was equally true from his end? 

“You remind me of her strengths.” “Thor-” You were sure he needed to go to therapy. Very soon. Not sure why he was meshing you with his deceased mother, no disrespect meant- but… 

“-when you were yelling at your leader. Ellis. It was then I knew you had the tenacity to lead everyone.” 

“To be fair, I don’t consider him my leader.” Quickly throwing this in. Because. Come on now. “He calls me for help more often than I call him. Which is never.” 

“Because you are wise. And you know the measure of what it takes to get things done. And this team- the people you’ve brought together- they look to you for guidance.” 

“I don’t think that’s true. I think we sort of help each other out the best we can.” 

“A great leader is also very humble. So I’ve been told.” Grinning at you then. “Do you remember what I said to you that day?” 

You paused, eyes drifting as you tried to think about it. It was probably important if he was bringing it up. So you felt bad for not remembering it in total. “Something about how leaders worry about their people.” 

“It is the wisest and strongest of leaders who worry how they will heal their people after war. This was a wisdom that my mother passed to me, meant to cull the heat of blood and battle brewing inside me. Meant to help me look at everything else aside the swing of a blade. And when I spoke it then, I was sure of its truth.”  Ah, that explained it. He’d passed an idiom from his mother to you the last time the two of you had really spoken. That’s why he was thinking of her, and you, in such a capacity. 

But it still didn’t sit right with you. In fact it made you feel a little weird. If you kept turning him down about it he might get his feelings hurt and he was no doubt in a sensitive place right now. But… but. “Well- ...thanks. And- I’m sure I would have liked Frigga, too. Mn… who knows. Maybe I would have even liked Loki. Had I meant him under normal circumstances.” 

Though at this, he let out a genuine bark of laughter, and gave a hard pat to your back. “Now you’re going too far. For all I knew and loved of Loki, trust me when I say the two of you would never have gotten along.” He softened up, smile gentle. “But thank you. For your kindness.” 

                                                ---------

Unlike the last party you’d thrown in the Tower (and not thinking about it… not thinking about it…), you let your support staff help you far more. It wasn’t like everything needed a personal touch and, even though you knew it was highly unlikely another event would occur- you made a promise to yourself to not leave the building. Because you didn’t need to. No need to go out and get anything- so why go? Right? 

...it seemed like everyone else was of the same mind. Your attention was always divided or taken up by one or more people. Never alone for too long a time. It was almost a little frustrating, that everyone kept checking in on you, even though they were making great attempts to make it not appear that way. But… it was also endearing. But. Again. Frustrating. Like you couldn’t be trusted to not leave if no one was keeping an eye on you? You weren’t a child. 

However. When Nick Fury and Maria Hill came over to you- invited because… you thought it might be a good idea to maybe have them a little more on the team than off it- your attention was snapped up by someone else in a literal matter of seconds. Just about as soon as Fury said, “I need to talk to you.” 

Steve tapped your shoulder. “Hey, mind if I cut in?” 

Fury threw a dry look his way. “Crazy coincidence, don’t you think? Though other people might call it bad manners.” 

Maria sipped at her drink. “Just wanted to say hi. And thanks for the invite. It’s nice to be included in these fancy parties.” 

“You’re welcome. We’ll be sure to throw some more often. It’s better to see each other at a party than a war, I think.” Not sassing her because she really hadn’t done anything. But you did smile in just such a way at Fury. “We’ll catch up later.” 

“Sure thing.” Taking a long pointed sip of his own drink as you were whisked away. 

It was lucky that Steve had a cover that probably seemed familiar to him. Though it wasn’t really that kind of party, apparently the small little section of empty floor near the lounge had attracted a few couples shuffling their feet. Rhodey was dancing the evening away with his plus-one. Some woman by the name of Alison Green (you reminded yourself to check into her later). Big soft eyes and long brown hair. Seemed alright. Pepper had some man toting her around by the waist- though she seemed happy so you decided not to say anything about it. And even Clint and Nat were getting their steps in together. Though their murmurs clued you in to the fact that they were probably gossiping. 

There was slow but jingly music playing, a playlist that you’d curated for the evening. Just enough to pretend to dance to, as Steve took your hand in his and settled the other one just slightly above your waist. You followed suit, not wanting to be rude. But… 

“Could you have been more obvious?” 

“What’s the harm in a dance?” 

“I might as well tell Fury I quit, at this point. Or that you want me to quit. With a stunt like that, he’s going to think we’re plotting something against him. And I’d really like to not start barking up that tree.” 

Steve, wonderful man that he was, actually looked right over at Fury. Who looked right back. “You think he’s that suspicious?” 

So you stepped on his foot purposefully. “Eyes here. Really. And they let you do field work?” Teasing him but also feeling your frustrations mounting. 

Though you hadn’t hurt him in the slightest, he looked down at you with a grin. “Ouch. You don’t know a simple waltz? I didn’t grow up with a silver spoon in my mouth and I-”

“Hey neither did I. Thank you. I just think you should probably try being a little bit smoother about all this.” He had the best of intentions, of this you had no doubt. Steve had a good heart. A very big… sometimes- well certainly not stupid but… innocent? If that was the word? Naive, maybe. It was why you didn’t doubt him. Or mistrust him. But this was all becoming a little too much. 

Tony’s voice flitted in between the two of you. “I teach a class in smooth. Every Wednesday and Friday. We should hang fliers up.” Standing there at your side so suddenly, martini glass in one hand, the other in his pocket. Eyebrow popped. An appropriate look. Not to mention devilishly handsome, as he took a sip of his drink. “So. What needs smoothening? Old man need some tips?” 

Steve let go of you, rebuffed. “I was just trying to get her out of his way.” 

“She can handle herself.” Grinning a little. “She takes my classes.” Holding his drink Steve’s way, “Here, hold this.” And when Steve took it without question, Tony took your hand in his. “Thanks. Now stay there and act casual. You might just get the hang of this yet.” 

As Tony’s arm came around your waist, you smiled up Steve’s way. “Thank you for the assist. But seriously. Enjoy the party. I’m good. Don’t worry about you-know-who.” 

“I don’t think he’s read Harry Potter, honey.” Pulling you away towards the windows that faced the deck. It was nearing midnight. The fireworks would start soon. Once there he angled a look your way. “He’s really that nervous?” 

“That obvious, huh?” 

“To just about everyone in the room. This isn’t that kind of party- no offense to the drifters over there. Asking you to dance was the worst move. Might as well just have said the kitchen was on fire.” Though Tony was rambling, a little quickly, his usual go to for either a mountain of frustration or anxiety, you sensed neither from him. 

“I tried to tell him that.” Reaching up, you smoothed your hands across his chest. “What’s the matter?” 

“I’m not trying to invite more discord into our house. If Rogers can’t grasp the art of the double-face, he’s in real trouble.” His hands came to your hips, pulling you in just a couple inches more. 

You couldn’t help the light smile. “I told him that.” Made fun of him, really, about his ability to do field work. But he’d taken it in stride. “Besides… I like that he’s so honest.” 

Tony rolled his eyes. “Oh. Are we doing evaluations now? Let me throw mine in- he’s asking for trouble.” Just there you caught the hint of what he was feeling. And it wasn’t frustration. Or anxiety. It was anger. 

On your behalf. 

If there were a moment for your heart to melt… “You’re mad at him? -because of me?” 

“You know, I heard Thor thinks you’re the leader around here. I’m inclined to agree.” 

“Where did you hear that?” 

He ignored your boggling and continued. “He’s peacocking. When he needs to be little-mousing. You can handle yourself.” 

Damn it all, you couldn’t help your smile. “Yeah. I think you said that to him already.” 

“I’ll say it as many times as it needs to be said.” 

A hum escaped you, playful, as your hands shifted up, touching along the sides of his neck, drawing him down closer. “If I can handle myself… shouldn’t I be handling this? And not you? Seems like you’re doing a lot of speaking on my behalf…” Tone warm, not offended or upset in the slightest. 

“Yeah, well…” A countdown was starting behind you. People had their champagne glasses raised. “That’s my job.” 

“Oh is it now?” He was so close as some giggles escaped you. Your noses brushed. 

“Yeah. It is. I’ll tell anyone off for you. Call it returning the favor for faithful years of service.” Doing the same, he meant. Even before your entanglement. That had sort of been your job. And you were still doing it for him. Of course. Not even just news reporters or the usual ill-wisher. But… 

Anyone. Anyone who said anything poor of him. Because you loved him. And you’d protect him no matter what. 

The room lit up in cheers, and outside over the city fireworks touched the sky. “I love you.” Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him in for one of those ever-so-sweet New Year’s kisses. But, heat was not too far behind. “I could do with a little service.” 

He hummed a little laugh against your lips. “Good news, the mechanic is in. Time to sneak off?” 

“We’ve been here long enough.” 

“A record amount of time, I’d say. We deserve a reward.” 

You nipped at his lower lip, tone breathy. “Take me upstairs. I’ll give you a reward.” 

The sparks that flew off him were immediately contagious. Or was that you? Cycling into him, back into you? You didn’t really care. But it could potentially be dangerous. “Yes, ma’am.” One last lingering heated kiss while the room around you was still celebrating. And then he took you by the hand, bypassing curious eyes with a slide around one of the bookcases and down the back staircase away from the elevated lounge. 

After that it was pretty much free game to get to the elevator. 

True to your word, reward you did, after the two of you stumbled out of it, discarding clothes as you went, locked to one another in deeper and deeper kisses. In the bedroom you pushed him with an easy hand to his chest, and followed closely after. And- as promised- on your hands and knees, fireworks just finishing their grand finale, you rewarded him. A steady hand, firm grip, and wet lips. 

His hands tangled in your hair, suddenly finding it very hard to catch his breath. When he finally could, when you were done, he wasted no time in turning the tables quite literally. But you eased him up closer for a lock of lips, your arms around him, his weight just bare above you. Warm and complete. With a shaky groan, his head at your shoulder, he found his usual stamina up to par, but you kept him slow as he filled you almost to bursting. Just something about him. Always him. And that light between you. You wanted to ride it forever. So you did. At least, for as long as you could. 

A very wonderful start to a brand new year. Maybe this one would be better than the last. 

[adalheidismimisbrunnr]

A Guide to Norse Gods and Goddesses

Aesir

The collective name for the principal race of Norse gods; they who lived in Asgard, and with the All-Father Odin, ruled the lives of mortal men, the other was the Vanir.

The Aesir gods under the leadership of Odin, included:

Balder (god of beauty)

Bragi (god of eloquence)

Forseti (god of mediation)

Freyr (god of fertility, who originally was from the Vanir)

Heimdall (guardian of the bridge)

Hod (the blind god)

Loki (the trickster of the gods)

Njord (the sea god, and another ex-Vanir)

Thor (god of thunder)

Tyr (god of war)

Vili (brother to Odin)

Ve (brother to Odin)

Vidar (Odin’s son)

The goddesses included:

Freya (the fertility goddess)

Frigga (Odin’s wife)

Sif (Thor’s wife)

Idun (keeper of the apples of youth)

Vanir

In Norse mythology, the Vanir are originally a group of wild nature and fertility gods and goddesses, the sworn enemies of the warrior gods of the Aesir. They were the bringers of health, youth, fertility, luck and wealth, and masters of magic. The Vanir live in Vanaheim. The Aesir and the Vanir had been at war for a long time when they decided to make peace. To ensure this peace they traded hostages: the Vanir sent their most renowned gods, the wealthy Njord and his children Freya and Freyr. In exchange the Aesir sent Honir, a big, handsome man who they claimed was suited to rule. He was accompanied by Mimir, the wisest man of the Aesir and in return the Vanir sent their wisest man Kvasir. Honir however, was not as smart as the Aesir claimed he was and it Mimir who gave him advice. The Vanir grew suspicious of the answers Honir gave when Mimir was not around. Eventually they figured out that they had been cheated and they cut Mimir’s head off and sent it back to the Aesir. Fortunately, this betrayal did not lead to another war and all the gods of the Vanir were subsequently integrated with the Aesir. There is not much known about the Vanir of the time before the assimilation.

Valkyries

Valkyries, in Scandinavian mythology, are the warrior maidens who attended Odin, ruler of the gods. The Valkyries rode through the air in brilliant armor, directed battles, distributed death lots among the warriors, and conducted the souls of slain heroes to Valhalla, the great hall of Odin. Their leader was Brunhilde.

Brunhilde

Brunhilde (Brynhildr, Brunhilda, Brunhilde, Brünhild) was a female warrior, one of the Valkyries, and in some versions the daughter of the principal god Odin. She defies Odin and is punished by imprisonment within a ring of fire until a brave hero falls in love and rescues her. Siegfied (Sigurðr, Sigurd) breaks the spell, falls in love with her and gives her the ring, Andvarinaut. Siegfied is tricked and accused of infidelity. Eventually Brunhilde kills herself when she learns that Sigurd had betrayed her with another woman (Gudrun), not knowing he had been bewitched into doing so by Grimhild.

 Gullveig

Gullveig (“gold branch”) is the sorceress and seer who had a great love and lust for gold. She talked of nothing else when she visited the Aesir. They listened with loathing and eventually thought the world would be better off without her so they hurled her into the fire. She was burned to death but stepped from the flames unscathed. Three times she was burned, and three times she was reborn. When the Vanir learned about how the Aesir had treated Gullveig they became incensed with anger. They swore vengeance and began to prepare for war. The Aesir heard about this and moved against the Vanir. This was the first war in the world. For a long time, the battle raged to and fro, with neither side gaining much ground. Eventually the gods became weary of war and began to talk of peace. Both sides swore to live side by side in peace. Gullveig is also known under the name of Heid (“gleaming one”). She is probably the goddess Freya, who also has a great love of gold in the various myths.

The Norse Gods & Goddesses

Aegir

Aegir is the god of the sea in Norse mythology. He was both worshipped and feared by sailors, for they believed that Aegir would occasionally appear on the surface to take ships, men and cargo alike, with him to his hall at the bottom of the ocean. Sacrifices were made to appease him, particularly prisoners before setting sail. His wife is the sea goddess Ran with whom he has nine daughters (the billow maidens), who wore white robes and veils. His two faithful servants are Eldir and Fimafeng. The latter was killed by the treacherous god Loki during a banquet the gods held at Aegir’s undersea hall near the island of Hler (or Hlesey). Aegir was known for the lavish entertainment he gave to the other gods.

Baldr

Balder, son of Odin and Frigga, the god of Love and Light, is sacrificed at Midsummer by the dart of the mistletoe and is reborn at Jul (Yule). Supposedly his return will not occur until after the onslaught of the Ragnarok, which I see as a cleansing and enlightenment more than wanton, purposeless destruction. Balder’s blind brother Hodur was his slayer, whose hand was guided by the crafty Loki. He is married to the goddess of Joy, Nanna. Balder’s dreams are the beginning of the end. He dreams of his own death and shows Loki the truly evil god that he is which shows the ultimate limitations and mortality of the gods. The gods capture and punish Loki, but they cannot rescue Balder from Hel and the beautiful, passive god who embodies the qualities of mercy and love is lost to them. This is the beginning of the end, the first step towards Ragnarok begins.

There is nothing but good to be told of him. He is the best of them, and everyone sings his praises. He is so fair of face and bright that a splendor radiates from him, and there is a flower so white that it is likened to Balder’s brow; it is the whitest of all flowers. From that you can tell how beautiful his body is, and how bright his hair. He is the wisest of gods, and the sweetest-spoken, and the most merciful, but it is a characteristic of his that once he has pronounced a judgement it can never be altered. – Snorri Sturluson

Bragi

The god of eloquence and poetry, and the patron of skalds (poets) in Norse mythology. He is regarded as a son of Odin and Frigga. Runes were carved on his tongue and he inspired poetry in humans by letting them drink from the mead of poetry. Bragi is married to Idun, the goddess of eternal youth. Oaths were sworn over the Bragarfull (“Cup of Bragi”), and drinks were taken from it in honor of a dead king. Before a king ascended the throne, he drank from such a cup.

Note: Originally, Bragi did not belong the pantheon of gods. He was a poet from the 9th century, Bragi Boddason. Poets from later centuries made him a god.

Forseti

Forseti in Norse mythology, Forseti is the god of justice. He is the son of the god Balder and his mother is Nanna. He rules in the beautiful palace Glitnir with its pillars of red gold and its roof with inlaid silver, which serves as a court of justice and where all legal disputes are settled. See Myth 12 The Lay of Grimnir. Although Forseti is one of the twelve leading gods, he is not featured significantly in any of the surviving myths. He can be compared with the Teutonic god Forseti, who was worshipped on Helgoland a small Island in the North Sea.

Freya

Freya was one of the most sensual and passionate goddesses in Norse mythology. She was associated with much of the same qualities as Frigg: love, fertility and beauty. She was the sister of Freyr. Freyja (modern forms of the name include Freya, Freja, Freyia, Frøya, and Freia) is the goddess of Love and Beauty but is also a warrior goddess and one of great wisdom and magick. She and her twin brother Freyr are of a different “race” of gods known as the Vanir. Many of the tribes venerated her higher than the Aesir, calling her “the Frowe” or “The Lady.” She is known as Queen of the Valkyries, choosers of those slain in battle to bear them to Valhalla (the Norse heaven). She, therefore, is a psychopomp like Odhinn and it is said that she gets the “first pick” of the battle slain. She wears the sacred necklace Brisingamen, which she paid for by spending the night with the dwarves who wrought it from the bowels of the earth. The cat is her sacred symbol. There seems to be some confusion between herself and Frigga, Odin’s wife, as they share similar functions; but Frigga seems to be strictly of the Aesir, while Freyja is of the Vanir race. The day Friday (Frejyasdaeg) was named for her (some claim it was for Frigga).

Freyr

Freyr was the god of fertility and one of the most respected gods for the Vanir clan. Freyr was a symbol of prosperity and pleasant weather conditions. He was frequently portrayed with a large phallus. Freyr is Freyja’s twin brother. He is the horned God of fertility and has some similarities to the Celtic Cernunnos or Herne, although he is NOT the same being. He is known as King of the Alfs (elves). Both the Swedish and the English are said to be descendants of his. The Boar is his sacred symbol, which is both associated with war and with fertility. His golden boar, “Gullenbursti”, is supposed to represent the daybreak. He is also considered to be the God of Success, and is wedded to Gerda, the Jotun, for whom he had to yield up his mighty sword. At Ragnarok, he is said to fight with the horn of an elk (much more suited to his nature rather than a sword.)

Frigg

Odin’s wife, Frigg, was a paragon of beauty, love, fertility and fate. She was the mighty queen of Asgard, a venerable Norse goddess, who was gifted with the power of divination, and yet, was surrounded by an air of secrecy. She was the only goddess allowed to sit next to her husband. Frigg was a very protective mother, so she took an oath from the elements, beasts, weapons and poisons, that they would not injure her brilliant and loving son, Baldr. Her trust was betrayed by Loki, a most deceitful god. She spins the sacred Distaff of life, and is said to know the future, although she will not speak of it. Some believe that Friday was named for her instead of Freya, and there is considerable confusion as to “who does what” among the two. The Norns (Urd, Verdande, and Skuld), are the Norse equivalent of the Greek Fates. It is they who determine the oorlogs (destinies) of the Gods and of Man, and who maintain the World Tree, Yggdrasil.

 Gefion

Gefion (“giver”) is an old-Scandinavian vegetation and fertility goddess, especially connected with the plough. She was considered the patron of virgins and the bringer of good luck and prosperity. Every girl who dies a virgin will become Her servant. She is married to King Skjold or Scyld a son of Odin, and lived in Leire, Denmark, where she had a sanctuary. The Swedish kings are supposed to be her descendants. It is traditionally claimed that Gefion created the island of Zealand (“Sjaelland” in Danish) by ploughing the soil out of the central Swedish region with the help of her sons (four Swedish oxen), creating the great Swedish lakes in the process. In Copenhagen, Denmark, there is a large fountain showing Her in the process of ploughing. Gefion could be another form of Frigga who is also known under that name.

Heimdall

Heimdall, known as the ‘shiniest’ of all gods due to him having the ‘whitest skin’, was a son of Odin who sat atop the Bifrost (the rainbow bridge that connects Asgard, the world of the Æsir tribe of gods, with Midgard, the world of humanity) and remained forever on alert; guarding Asgard against attack.

In the Lay of Thrym, it is Heimdall’s idea to Dress up Thor as a woman, in order to trick Thrym, the king of the frost giants, into thinking it was Freyja. The ploy works and Thor recovers his stolen hammer Mjollnir. Heimdall was associated with the sea and was the son of nine maidens (9 waves??). In Myth 5 – The Song of Rig he calls himself Rig and travels across the land visiting several households, speaking honeyed words, winning over the woman of the household and creating the three races of men. His acute senses make him an ideal watchman for the gods. His hall is Himinbjorg (Cliffs of Heaven) which stands near the rainbow Bifrost. He owns the horn Gjall which can be heard throughout the nine worlds.

He needs less sleep than a bird and can see a hundred leagues in front of him as well by night as by day. He can hear the grass growing on the earth and the wool on sheep, and everything that makes more noise – Snorri Sturluson

Hel

Hel was the goddess of the dead and the afterlife was Hel (Holle, Hulda), and was portrayed by the Vikings as being half-dead, half alive herself. The Vikings viewed her with considerable trepidation. The Dutch, Gallic, and German barbarians viewed her with some beneficence, more of a gentler form of death and transformation. She is seen by them as Mother Holle; a being of pure Nature, being helpful in times of need, but vengeful upon those who cross her or transgress natural law.

Höðr

(Old Norse: Hǫðr [ˈhɔðr] (listen); often anglicized as Hod, Hoder, or Hodur) is a blind god and a son of Odin and Frigg in Norse mythology. Tricked and guided by Loki, he shot the mistletoe arrow which was to slay the otherwise invulnerable Baldr.

Idun

Idun ("She Who Renews") is the Norse Goddess of youth Who grows the magic apples of immortality that keep the Gods young. Her husband Bragi is God of poetry. Loki, the God of mischief and fire, was once responsible for arranging Her abduction by the giant Thajazi. Without Her apples, the Gods soon began to age, and threatened Loki until He agreed to rescue Her, which He accomplished by borrowing Frejya's falcon robe and fleeing with Idun who He had changed to a nut. Alternate spellings: Idunn, Iduna, Idhunna

Kvasir

Kvasir is referred to as the “wisest of the gods” in The Binding of Loki. It is he who comes up with the plan to fish Loki out of the water using the net he fashioned from Loki’s own design. It is not entirely clear whether Kvasir is a god. In the Mead of Poetry, he is “created” from the spittle of the gods.

Loki

Loki was a mischievous god who could shape-shift and can take up animalistic forms. He conceived a scheme to cause the death of Baldr. Upon learning that mistletoe was the only thing that could hurt Baldr, he placed a branch into the hands of the blind god, Hodr, and tricked him into throwing it at Baldr, killing him. Loki, the Trickster, challenges the structure and order of the Gods which is necessary in bringing about needed change. In the Prose Edda Snorri Sturluson writes that Loki: is handsome and fair of face but has an evil disposition and is very changeable of mood. He excelled all men in the art of cunning, and he always cheats. He was continually involving the Aesir in great difficulties and he often helped them out again by guile. Neither an Aesir or a Vanir, he is the son of two giants and yet the foster-brother of Odin. Loki embodies the ambiguous and darkening relationship between the gods and the giants. He is dynamic and unpredictable and because of that he is both the catalyst in many of the myths and the most fascinating character in the entire mythology. Without the exciting, unstable, flawed figure Loki, there would be no change in the fixed order of things, no quickening pulse, and no Ragnarok. He is responsible for a wager with a giant which puts Freyja into peril (Myth 3) but by changing both shape and sex (characteristics he has in common with Odin) he bails her out. In Myth 10 he shears Sif’s hair which is more mischievous than evil, but he makes amends in the end. In Myth 8 his deceit leads to the loss of the golden apples of youth… but he retrieves them again. He helps the Gods and gets them out of predicaments, but spawns the worst monsters ever seen on the face of the Earth: Fenrir, Jormungand, the Midgard Wyrm. His other children include the goddess Hel (Hella, Holle), and Sleipnir, Odin’s 8-legged horse. It is now generally accepted that he is not a late invention of the Norse poets, but an ancient figure descended from a common Indo-European prototype and as such, Loki’s origins are particularly complex. He has been compared to several European and other mythological figures, most notably the Trickster of Native American mythology. As the myths play out, the playful Loki gives way to a cruel predator, hostile to the gods. He not only guides the mistletoe dart that kills Balder but stands in his way on his return from Hel (the citadel of Niflheim). His accusations against the gods at Aegir’s feast (Myth 30) are vicious. He is an agent of destruction causing earthquakes. And when he breaks loose at Ragnarok, Loki reveals his true colors; he is no less evil than his three appalling children, the serpent Jormungand, the wolf Fenrir and the half-dead, half-alive Hel (Myth 7), and he leads the giants and monsters into battle against the gods and heroes.

Mani

Máni (Old Norse "moon"[1]) is the personification of the moon in Norse mythology. Máni, personified, is attested in the Poetic Edda, compiled in the 13th century from earlier traditional sources, and the Prose Edda, written in the 13th century by Snorri Sturluson. Both sources state that he is the brother of the personified sun, Sól, and the son of Mundilfari, while the Prose Edda adds that he is followed by the children Hjúki and Bil through the heavens. As a proper noun, Máni appears throughout Old Norse literature. Scholars have proposed theories about Máni's potential connection to the Northern European notion of the Man in the Moon, and a potentially otherwise unattested story regarding Máni through skaldic kennings.

Njord

Njord is the God of the wind and fertility as well as the sea and merchants at sea and therefore was invoked before setting out to sea on hunting and fishing expeditions. He is also known to have the ability to calm the waters as well as fire. Njord, one of the Vanir gods, was first married to his sister Nerthus and had two children with her, Frey and Freyja. His second wife was Skadi (Skade), a Giantess. When Skadi’s father was killed by the Aesir she was granted three “acts” of reparation one of which was to let her choose a husband from among the gods. She could pick her new husband, but the choice had to be made by looking only at the feet. She picked Njord by mistake, assuming his feet belonged to Balder. Njord and Skadi could not agree on where to live. She didn’t like his home Noatun at the Sea, and he didn’t like hers Trymheim, in the mountain with large woods and wolves, so they lived the first half of the year in Noatun and the other half in Trymheim. Njord is said to be a future survivor of Ragnarök in stanza 39 of the poetic Edda:

“In Vanaheim the wise Powers made him and gave him as hostage to the gods; at the doom of men he will come back home among the wise Vanir.”

Odin

The supreme deity of Norse mythology and the greatest among the Norse gods was Odin, the Allfather of the Æsir. He was the awe-inspiring ruler of Asgard, and most revered immortal, who was on an unrelenting quest for knowledge with his two ravens, two wolves and the Valkyries. He is the god of war and, being delightfully paradoxical, the god of poetry and magic. He is famous for sacrificing one of his eyes in order to be able to see the cosmos more clearly and his thirst for wisdom saw him hang from the World Tree, Yggdrasil, for nine days and nine nights until he was blessed with the knowledge of the runic alphabet. His unyielding nature granted him the opportunity to unlock numerous mysteries of the universe. Odin or, depending upon the dialect Woden or Wotan, was the Father of all the Gods and men. Odin is pictured either wearing a winged helm or a floppy hat, and a blue-grey cloak. He can travel to any realm within the 9 Nordic worlds. His two ravens, Huginn and Munin (Thought and Memory) fly over the world daily and return to tell him everything that has happened in Midgard. He is a God of magick, wisdom, wit, and learning. In later times, he was associated with war and bloodshed from the Viking perspective, although in earlier times, no such association was present. If anything, the wars fought by Odin exist strictly upon the Mental plane of awareness; appropriate for that of such a mentally polarized God. He is both the shaper of Wyrd and the bender of Oorlog; again, a task only possible through the power of Mental thought and impress. It is he who sacrifices an eye at the well of Mimir to gain inner wisdom, and later hangs himself upon the World Tree Yggdrasil to gain the knowledge and power of the Runes. All his actions are related to knowledge, wisdom, and the dissemination of ideas and concepts to help Mankind. Odin can make the dead speak in order to question the wisest amongst them. His hall in Asgard is Valaskjalf (“shelf of the slain”) where his throne Hlidskjalf is located. From this throne he observes all that happens in the nine worlds. He also resides in Valhalla, where the slain warriors are taken. Odin’s attributes are the spear Gungnir, which never misses its target, the ring Draupnir, from which every ninth night eight new rings appear, and his eight-footed steed Sleipnir. He is accompanied by the wolves Freki and Geri, to whom he gives his food for he himself consumes nothing but wine. Odin has only one eye, which blazes like the sun. His other eye he traded for a drink from the Well of Wisdom and gained immense knowledge. On the day of the final battle, Odin will be killed by the wolf Fenrir. Just as a point of curiosity: in no other pantheon is the head Deity also the God of Thought and Logic.  It’s interesting to note that the Norse people set such a great importance upon logic. The day Wednesday (Wodensdaeg) is named for him.

Sif

Sif is the Norse Goddess of the grain Who is a prophetess, and the beautiful golden-haired wife of Thor. Thor is the thunder God and frequent companion of Loki, as He makes the perfect patsy, being not too bright. Sif is of the elder race of Gods or Aesir. She is a swan-maiden, like the Valkyries, and can take that form. By Her first marriage to the Giant Orvandil, Sif had a son named Ullr ("the Magnificent"), Who is a God of winter and skiing. By Her second husband Thor, She had a daughter, Thrudr ("Might"), a Goddess of storm and clouds and one of the Valkyries, and two sons, Magni ("Might") and Modi ("Anger" or "The Brave"), who are destined to survive Ragnarok and inherit Mjollnir from Thor (though some say the Giantess Jarnsaxa "Iron Sword" is their mother). Sif is famous for Her very long, very golden hair. One night, Loki, who just couldn't resist a little chaos and mischief, snuck into Her chamber and chopped it all off. A sobbing and horrified Sif went straight to Her husband, Who in His rage started breaking Loki's bones, one by one, until finally He swore to make the situation right. So, Loki went to the dwarves and persuaded them to make not only a new head of magic hair for Sif from pure gold, but also a magical ship and a spear. But Loki could not resist pushing His luck, and made a wager with two other dwarves, Brokk and Sindi, daring them to make better treasures. Loki was so sure of the outcome that He had let His own head be the prize. Underestimating the dwarves' skills (or the depth of their hatred for Him), He suddenly realized with a shock that Brokk and Sindi were winning! In desperation He changed Himself into a horsefly, biting and pestering the dwarves while they worked. Despite this they managed to produce several treasures, the most famous of which was Mjollnir, Thor's Hammer. The Gods were then called to arbitrate and declared Brokk and Sindi the winners. Loki promptly disappeared. When He was tracked down, He was again given to the dwarf brothers, but this time Loki agreed, yes, they had a right to His head, but the wager had said nothing about His neck. Frustrated with this "logic," the dwarves had to content themselves with sewing His lips shut. The new head of golden hair was given to Sif, where it magically grew from Her head just as if it were natural. Her golden hair is said to represent the wheat of summer that is shorn at harvest-time.

Skadi

Skadi is the Goddess of Winter and of the Hunt. She is married to Njord, the gloomy Sea God, noted for his beautiful bare feet (which is how Skadi came to choose him for her mate.) Supposedly the bare foot is an ancient Norse symbol of fertility. The marriage wasn’t too happy, though, because she really wanted Balder for her husband. She is the goddess of Justice, Vengeance, and Righteous Anger, and is the deity who delivers the sentence upon Loki to be bound underground with a serpent dripping poison upon his face in payment for his crimes. Skadi’s character is represented in two of Hans Christian Anderson’s tales: “The Snow Queen” and “The Ice Princess.”

Sol/ Sunna

Sól is the Norse Goddess of the Sun, also known as Sunna, though some hold that Sól is the mother and Sunna Her daughter. In Norse mythology, the Sun is female while the Moon is male. When the world was created from the body of the dead giant Ymir by the triad of Odin, Vili, and Ve, the Sun, Moon and Stars were made from the gathered sparks that shot forth from Muspellsheim, the Land of Fire. Sol ("Mistress Sun"), drives the chariot of the Sun across the sky every day. Pulled by the horses Allsvinn ("Very Fast") and Arvak ("Early Rising"), the Sun-chariot is pursued by the wolf Skoll. It is said that sometimes he comes so close that he can take a bite out of the Sun, causing an eclipse. Sol's father is Mundilfari, and She is the sister of Måni, the Moon-god, and the wife of Glaur or Glen ("Shine"). As Sunna, she is a healer. At Ragnarok, the foretold "Twilight of the Gods" or end of the world, it is believed the Sun will finally be swallowed by Skoll. When the world is destroyed, a new world shall be born, a world of peace and love, and the Sun's bright daughter shall outshine Her mother.

Thor

Thor was Odin’s most widely known son. He was the protector of humanity and the powerful god of thunder who wielded a hammer named Mjöllnir. Among the Norse gods, he was known for his bravery, strength, healing powers and righteousness. Tyr is the ancient god of War and the Lawgiver of the gods. The bravest of the gods, it is Tyr who makes the binding of Fenrir possible by sacrificing his right hand. Thor, also known as the Thunderer, was a son of Fjorgyn (Jord) and Odin by some, but among many tribes Thor supplanted Odin as the favorite god. He is the protector of all Midgard, and he wields the mighty hammer Mjollnir. Thor is strength personified. His battle chariot is drawn by two goats, and his hammer Mjollnir causes the lightning that flashes across the sky. Of all the deities, Thor is the most “barbarian” of the lot; rugged, powerful, and lives by his own rules, although he is faithful to the rest of the Aesir. The day Thursday (Thorsdaeg) is sacred to him.

Tyr

Tyr also seems to be a god of justice. His name is derived from Tiw or Tiwaz an Tacticus and other Roman writers have equated this character to Mars, the receiver of human sacrifice. His day is Tuesday. Tyr was the son of Odin though he is made out to be the son of the giant Ymir. Like Odin, he has many characteristics of the earlier Germanic gods of battle. Parallels in other mythologies along with archaeological discoveries relating to a one-handed god, suggest that this character is very old and was known in Northern Europe somewhere between one and two thousand years before Snorri Sturluson included it in his Prose Edda. Similarities can be found in the one-handed Naudu in Irish mythology and in Mitra, just god of the day, of Indian mythology.

Ve

Ve is one of ancient Scandinavian gods and, together with Odin and Vili, the son of the primordial pair of giants Bor and Bestla. The three brothers created heaven and earth from the slain body of the primeval being Ymir and built the twelve realms. They also created Ask and Embla, the first pair of humans.

Vili

In Scandinavian myth, one of the primordial gods, brother of Odin and Ve. The three of them were responsible for the creation of the cosmos, as well as the first humans.

Vidar

Vidar was another son of the supreme god and Grid (a giantess), and his powers were matched only by that of Thor.

Vali

He was born a fully-grown man. Little is known about Vali, except that he is a son of Odin and his giant mistress Rind. When Balder was killed unintentionally by his twin brother Hod, Vali was born to avenge his death.

“In the west Rind will give birth to Vali. Merely one night old he will avenge the son of Odin.

He will not wash his hands, nor will he comb his hair until Balder’s murderer burns at the stake.”

[magnusmodig]

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