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RATED M - STEAMY ADULT CONTENT FOLLOWS

WRITERS’ NOTE

This fic is compiled from an RP. Please excuse any choppiness or flow concerns that may arise because of this.

Also, please note this is entirely AU. Canon ships have been eliminated in most cases, and some timelines and canon stories have been changed for our story purposes and general amusement. Characters alive in the MCU may be dead in this universe and vice versa. Loosely, this RP occurs after Civil War, Spider-Man Homecoming and Ragnarok. Willingly suspend your disbelief and enjoy

~ Lucy and BG Blogger

Castle Grounds, Kingdom of Winderfell, Realm of Soleil

A hundred centuries ago, the ancestors of the people of Wilderfell had fled to the Primordial Forest to flee persecution. The western kingdoms had found their religion to be a threat and had made it their mission to wipe them all from the surface of Soleil. And so, Boaz the Elder Maudit had led those who followed the faith to the forest, where they could live in peace beneath the canopy of the trees.

Since then, the kingdom had grown and the trees had as well. Now, they were so tall that they nearly completely blocked the suns’ light even at the height of dual afternoon. There in the shadows, the villages prospered, the believers visited the temples and the son of Maudit the Elder continued to rule. Now, however, the overseeing of the kingdom was done from the confines of the grand Black Castle.

The largest palace of any on Soleil, it was located on an island at the center of a great lake. With the trees reaching overhead, the water appeared a deep shade of purple under the light of Soleil’s five-moon cluster. And there on the surface of the lake could be seen the fleeting glimpse of what might have been the reflection of a comet.

It was not a comet though. Comets remain in their rightful place in the firmament. They do not come crashing through the atmosphere and then hit every tree branch on the way down. And they certainly do not splash into the lake and soak the fine silver nightgown of a certain princess who was sitting there on its shore rather than slumbering in her chambers as she was meant to be.

“Pegeen’s Bonnet!” she cursed, jumping to her feet. It was only then that she realized what had happened. Something, or someone, had fallen into the lake.

Thor Odinson had not been above the water in time to hear the woman on the shore curse at his sudden appearance. Coming to the surface, he bobbed in the water, blond hair sticking to his forehead and along the side of his neck as the sight of the girl came into view.

“Greetings!” He called happily from the water before swimming a distance where he could stand. Thor rose to his feet and stood proudly, his red cape sticking to his back and dripping heavily into the water. He didn’t mind, and neither did his ego.

“I am Thor, son of Odin, King of Asgard, and I appear–” he took a step forward in the water and his foot went into something of a hole, causing him to stumble forward and lose his balance.

Thor splashed into the shallows of the lake and stood again.

“–I appear to have happened upon your realm in error. There is no need for alarm, though,” he finished as he made his way out of the lake, standing on its shore a few feet away from her and wrung out his long blond hair.

Once his hair was a little drier, he held out his hand to the right of him to call Mjolnir to him. “Do not stir. I will be on my way shortly.”

He held his smile as he waited, but nothing happened. Thor cleared his throat and looked to the right.

“Just a moment.”

His smile fell and he looked to the girl, hand still out expectedly. “Why is your realm without sound except for that of my voice? Mjolnir, my hammer, gives me no sign that it draws near.”

Elodie’s entire reason for being outside was to escape her troubles and the dark confines of her room. In all her most impossible daydreams, she could not have imagined a distraction quite like the one that popped out of her lake.

She looked on at him in stunned silence as he emerged from the water, declared himself king and then nearly fell on his face. Her expression became no less bewildered as he assured her that he would soon be leaving. In fact, she could not tear her eyes from his handsome if not somewhat outlandish form until he held out his hand. Then, she became all too curious to see what this so-called King was waiting for.

“I am not certain what you mean…” she began, taking a step back. Then, she added uncertainly, “…Asgardian. Here on Winderfell hammers do not speak to anyone, even to…kings.”

Thor chuckled good naturedly. “You misunderstand, lady of the lake. Mjolnir does not speak, but when I call to it, it often–”

He cut himself off when he heard not the sound of his hammer breaking through the trunks of trees and whistling in the wind but the sound of men telling him to stay where he stood. One dozen tall thin men wearing leather armor and silver capes were upon them. “HALT!” the guard captain called. “BY ORDER OF THE KING OF WINDERFELL, HALT INTRUDER!”

“He is not an intruder…” Elodie said. “He is an Asgardian king who fell from the sky and is waiting for his hammer to say hello to him.”

The captain of the guard shot a cautious glance at his second in command. “Your forgiveness, Highness, but the King will decide who is and who is not an intruder. Come, Stranger. King Cepheus will hear your tale one way or another. Heed our command and there need not be any bloodshed this evening.”

“Bloodshed!” Thor cackled and nodded in their direction. “That is good. As if you dare threaten the King of Asgard. You are no match for–”

He looked to his hand again, this time impatiently. When he realized that he was not indeed going to be reunited with the hammer and was effectively defenseless in front of these armed men, Thor became visibly friendly again.

“Let us go to your King!” He said jovially and threw his arms out to the side.

“I would be pleased to make the acquaintance of the leader of your realm,” he said with a grin, taking wet, sopping steps toward the men.

“He and I can share our tales of conquest and glory over your finest ale!”

“Ale,” the commander of the guard said. “Of course…” though there was a clear sound of doubt in his voice. Deep down, he was certain this to be a madman from one of the other kingdoms who would find himself working in the factory before the evening had finished. But that was up to the king.

“This way,” he said sharply.

One of the guards poked at him with a spear as if to tell him to go.

“I am no animal to be prodded,” Thor protested with a face that read gross disbelief as he looked him over.

“You needn’t be rude,” Elodie hissed at him. “He is going.”

“M'lady,” the guard said, ducking his head a bit.

“My apologies,” she said, her hair dripping much like Thor’s as they both walked toward the castle.

“Either you are a king as you say or a lunatic,” Elodie began.

“Whichever the case, if you are going willingly you should not be prodded so. I do hope you are in fact Thor of Asgard for I have heard he is a great hero and–”

“Your Highnessss,” came a hiss of a voice among the guards. From them emerged a man clad in black robes, his hair white and his skin the same shade. “I could not help but overhear…” he said “…you musssst not fraternize with sssstrangers. What will your father and mother think?”

Elodie’s demeanor changed entirely but whether it was due to the threat or the presence of the enrobed man it was not clear. “Good luck to you, Perhaps King of Asgard.”

“Come child,” the man cooed. “I will ssseeee you back to your room.”

“No!” she said abruptly quickening her pace. “Forsythe will see me safely there.”

“But–” the hooded man protested, reaching for her arm.

“My father may require your counsel as to what to do with our visitor,” she said. “Forsythe, come.”

And with that one of the guards stepped out of the ranks, leaving Thor walking beside the robed man who was now glaring at him. “Asgard hassssss been obliterated. We sssssssaw it. You will not deceive my king and I with your lies. It will be my pleassssure to rip the truth from your flesh for my ssssssire.”

What a strange little man, Thor thought, unconcerned with his threats. The blond reached out and clapped the freakish man on his shoulder, grinning down at him.

"Asgard has indeed been left in ruins,” he said with a nod. “It pleases me that your senses are still among you given your age! I’ll have you know that no son of Odin would let Asgard fall entirely. Did you not witness the large metallic craft that brought my people safely from the ruins while you watched the skies?”

Thor removed his hand. “The truth you will ‘rip’ from me will expose just that. Though I am certain your king appreciates your loyalty. It will not go unnoted. He and I will speak of this interaction merrily once you have realized who I am and why you should not be threatening me,” he finished with a wink.

“We ssssaw no such thing,” the snakey man said, ducking his shoulder to try and escape the grasp of the dripping wet man. “It issss no threat…but a promisssse…”

Before more could be said, they were passing through the rear gates of the castle. On the wall were large stained glass lamps that seemed to glow with a warm, ethereal light that could have perhaps been electric but did not seem to be bright enough to rival the sort on Earth. The guards ushered Thor through to the throne room where the king sat upon a great silver throne.

As Thor entered the grand room, he looked pleased at what he saw. If he had to fall into some ridiculous realm, at least it was one that was beautiful and fair and full of buildings and women of the same descriptors. The pleasure registered on his face as he entered, not taking a knee before him but instead gesturing around him as he spoke, turning slightly as he did.

King Cepheus was very much the model of Winderfellian form, although he was one of the older men of the realm. He stood above 6 feet and had skin as pale as moonlight due to the limited sunlight that made its way to the kingdom. His eyes were pale blue, almost colorless, and his features were sharp and angled.

He turned his stark blue eyes upon the men who entered as the guards took to a knee and the hooded gentleman prostrated himself before the man.

“Sssssire…thissss ssssstranger was caught fraternizing with the princessssss by the lake. He has done nothing but sssssspin lies about his originsssss, claiming to be of Assssgard.”

He was poised to continue when the King boomed, “Silence Melchior.”

Steepling his fingers, the king looked to the stranger. “I would prefer to hear your tale formed with your own tongue, assuming you have the gift of speech.”

“I have indeed the tongue with which to confirm that I am the mighty Thor of Asgard!” He proclaimed triumphantly, raising his fist above his head as if he held his hammer.

“And I have happened upon your world after saving what was left of mine. It was not in my intention to fall from the metallic steed upon which I rode onto your planet and into the lake surrounding your palace, but I am here nonetheless and would prefer not being deemed a liar.”

He dropped his hand from above him and instead held both of them out to the side of his body. “Is this not how you anticipate the God of Thunder to appear? Have I disappointed your fantasies?” He teased, giving an expectant look.

The King looked on stoically as Thor began to proclaim his identity with the sort of bravado one would expect from Asgardians who fancied themselves gods. Soleil was far beyond the sphere of the nine realms that Odin had once presided over, but that did not mean that news of he and his sons had not traveled there.

“You have disappointed no one,” Cepheus said. “Merely surprised. We hope you will not find insult in the reception you have received. Our kingdom has been through many trials of late and We fear it has put everyone on edge, not least of which our closest advisor Brother Melchior…”

He cast his blue eyes upon the man, “…who may rise and give you the apology you are owed.”

Thor looked pleased when it was clear that at the very least this King had his wits about him. He gave an understanding nod when the King apologized for the way he was welcomed and explained his reasoning.

“I understand your concern and think nothing of it,” he said genuinely now that he did not think he had to fight to keep his name. “I assume others of such prestige enter your grand palace free from the waters of your lake, he joked, looking down at his clothes. "It is reasonable.”

“But…Sssssire…” Melchior said, looking incredulous as he rose to his feet and dusted himself off.

“Have you been so long from your studies that you no longer recognize the signatories of an Asgardian displayed there before your eyes on what is clearly a fine mythril breastplate? You have erred and embarrassed the crown…but as it was not Our mistake, should you expect Us to give the apology?”

“No, Ssssire,” Melchior frowned. He turned to Thor and stiffly said. “I apologize, Thor ssssson of Odin. If I have offended it was only out of concern that you meant my beloved Princessss harm.”

“I accept,” the King of Asgard said with a shit eating grin before turning back to the King.

“There,” the king declared. “That was not so difficult, was it? You may leave us now, Melchior, and take the guards with you.”

“Yes Ssssssire,” Melchior bowed before they made their way.

“Now, then,” Cepheus said. “You are in the presence of King Cepheus, Sovereign of Winderfell on the Ream of Soleil. If it please you, Thor, Son of Odin, you may have lodging here until you can be reunited with your people. The finest guest quarters can be prepared for you, and we will see that you are well fed and comfortable for the evening. Then, tomorrow, we can have a proper banquet in your honor to welcome you here to our fair kingdom.”

“You are much more accommodating than your loyal advisor led me to believe, King Cepheus. Your hospitality is appreciated. I was concerned after the fall of Asgard I would yet see another land as fine, but I have been proven wrong,” he complimented the king, figuring it was the least he could do.

The King smiled broadly when the Asgardian king complimented him on his kingdom. “Having heard of the beauty of your realm, We are honored by your praise. And our deepest condolences for the loss of your home…if We can aid your people at this time in any way, We would be pleased to.”

Cepheus suddenly realized that perhaps having Asgard settle on Soleil could be a boon for him. They were known to be legendary warriors. Perhaps they could help him see to his enemies. Befriending this king could mean establishing a happy alliance for the future.

“Allow me to take my leave. Plummeting from the stars does more than just tire the body…” Or if Thor was being honest, he’d say that he wished to go snoop about the castle and try to catch the princess before she retired for the night.

“Of course,” he proclaimed. “A page shall escort you.” He clapped his hands and waited for him to arrive. “Take King Thor of Asgard to the royal guest quarters and see that food is brought. And that he has whatever he might desire…”

With what could have been a smile, he added, “With the exception of my fair maiden daughter, of course.” Chuckling, he bid Thor good night and the nervous page showed him the way through the grand palace.

It was as if this man knew what was on Thor’s mind as he stated that he could have anything he wanted outside of his daughter. Thor laughed good naturedly as if to say that such a thought was out of the question then.

“'til the morrow, King Cepheus,” Thor still wore the same smile as he was escorted out of the grand throne room and throughout the sprawling palace. His eyes had been peeled the entire time he was walking, though he kept his head forward as not to cause any assumptions that he had been peering in places his eyes didn’t belong or looking for something that he was not supposed to have.

Or someone, as it were.

When they reached the regal guest suite, the page bid him good evening. Thor opened the door, where the princess sat there still in her wet nightgown, perched on the edge of the bed with her knees just slightly parted.

“King and not madman, then?” she asked with a wry smile.

“Had you only believed me before we’d have a canopy of stars instead of stone as well as the privacy of moonlight,” Thor replied with a crooked smile in her direction.

Elodie pouted out her lip a little as if this news disappointed. “This is true,” she said, “But…perhaps you will linger more than one night so that when next we meet it can be in the setting we were deprived of.”

“At the same time, there is something to be said for soft beds and sturdy walls, is there not? Surely such things can be even more useful than stars and moonlight, albeit not as beautiful.”

“Do you still believe me to be a hero worthy of lore even after I came crashing down into your kingdom like a madman indeed and got you…” he motioned at her nightgown with a smirk. “All wet?”

The comment on the state of her clothing and perhaps of her nether regions prompted the princess to smirk. “If anything, I am intrigued by your bold entrance. I have never seen another like it.”

Her legs parted more, and she added, “And I have never seen another man quite like you.”

“Besides,” she said, “Being wet is only a temporary inconvenience that can be quickly remedied. Or…slowly remedied until dawn, even. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Thor wasn’t sure he’d ever seen a woman as forward as this one, and he hadn’t even learned her name. The women of Asgard had always been so coy and shy around him, even when he made it known that he was clearly interested. To see this woman so blatant in her desires only made Thor grow in his. He temporarily forgot about the niceties of the King and the strangeness of the day and the safety of Banner and found himself glad that he’d fallen into this world.

With each inch that her thighs parted, Thor stepped closer to her until he was right upon her. Elodie’s pulse quickened as he approached, but her calm demeanor did not leave her.

Touching her chin with his thumb, Thor gently guided Elodie to stand, peering down into her eyes. She slowly rose, hands at her side though she longed to reach for him. Make him wait, she thought, at least for a breath or two.

With a wave of his hand, Thor rid his torso of the armor that robed him, leaving him standing there bare chested before her.

“W can remedy one instance of this cursed wetness quickly,” he said in a husky tone, sliding his arm around Elodie’s waist. He pulled her against him and shifted his hand to hold her by one of her thighs, using the other hand to remove the wet gown she wore.

He discarded the sopping garment at the foot of the bed. Elodie could feel the cool air licking her skin that was both sorts of damp. The wet nightgown was gone from her and she made no effort to hide any part of her from his sight or his touch.

“The other we can see to until your frail form gives in,” he said as he dipped his head down to kiss roughly at her neck and collar bones.

“And test these sturdy walls you speak of,” the blond added through a breathy, low laugh against her skin as he pressed her up to the cool wall.

Her eyes closed, head tilting to the side to give him free reign over whatever part of her flesh he wished to explore. “My frame…” she panted, her hands coming to run through his long hair, “…is much sturdier than it appears, even in the face of…”

Turning her head, she whispered against the lobe of his ear, “…the god of thunder.” The words said, she captured the fleshy part of his ear between her soft lips and suckled, brushing the skin with the tip of her tongue.

“The walls may be a bigger concern,” she said as she found herself flush against one. “Though I cannot think of a more enticing way to test the foundations of the castle…”

Thor used his powerful body to keep her pressed against the stony wall, his hands free to roam her waist, her hips, her breasts, her thighs, anywhere they could reach as she appealed to his ego and called him the god of thunder in that whispered way.

A low moan sounded against her skin as she did, and he smiled against her flesh as he said, “I fear the walls are not what will be quivering before this god of thunder,” but the words barely got out before an intake of breath seemed to suck them right back in when her fingers slipped beneath his waistband.

“Quiver, will I?” she gasped, arching her back into his touch, clearly coaxing his touch to her pert tits. “…would that not make you the God of–” she gasped as his hand found its way to a particularly sensitive spot. “–wind and not–” but she could not finish her thought, perhaps not quivering but panting too hard to complete the syllables.

Reaching down, she brushed her fingers over the front of his breeches.

And without waiting for an invitation, the bold maiden snaked her hand behind the fastening and plunged it downward, seeking out the very steel she spoke of.

“She waits for nothing,” he whispered through a pleased, near drunken smile, allowing himself the freedom of slipping his pants down just enough to where he could guide himself out of her hands and to a much warmer place.

When he commented on her unwillingness to wait, she gave a lusty smirk, “He expects a woman to be patient? Clearly, he has never had the pleasure of a princess before.”

And it seemed he did not wish to test her patience further. One of Thor’s hands cradled the back of Elodie’s neck as he wasted no time and slid inside of her. She wrapped yet strong thighs around his waist and sunk her fingertips into his shoulder blades as he began to thrust.

Immediately, he began to build a rather swift and firm rhythm. Remembering how this had been forbidden just moments ago only seemed to make his movements seem that much more eager.

To try and quiet herself, Elodie buried her face against Thor’s neck, but moans were still audible as he brought her closer and closer to her breaking point. Finally and explosively, she climaxed around him, her now quivering body begging his to join hers in bliss.

Thor had once been the type to believe that he wanted a woman who might submit to him and his desires, not one that might take her desires into her own hands. It was exhilarating to say the least, and with every reaction that he got from her, he found himself growing impossibly excited.

She held onto him with ferocity, and it was good that she had as he did not hold anything back when fucking her, every muscle of his body going to work for him. Feeling her try to keep herself quiet and breathing against his skin was enough to push him over the edge, and once she had cum, he was short to follow after with a groan that was not shy or quiet by any means, although he found himself wishing that it had been; a knock came at the door at that very moment along with an announcement that the food the King had promised had been delivered.

Thor held up a finger to his lips, breath labored as he set her back down on the floor. He flattened his hair out a bit and with another wave of his hand was dressed as if nothing had happened. He went to the door and cracked it open just enough to accept the offering and thank the man who’d brought it.

Shutting the door again, he turned around and let out a breathy laugh.

“That could have been…unfortunate,” he commented as he brought the tray of food over to one of the tables in the room. He returned to her with a large lavender berry and popped it between her lips. Elodie captured Thor’s fingers in her mouth and sucked them for a moment before she pulled back and took to eating the proffered fruit.

“But I still consider myself quite the lucky King.”

“Surely that was worth the threat of execution should I have been found in your chambers,” she teased. She didn’t think her father would go so far as to try and kill the King of Asgard over such a thing, but it was fun to tease.

She slipped past him and went to the bed, reclining on it rather shamelessly. Laying on her side with her head propped up by her hand, she nodded toward the food.

“Enjoy the taste of whatever our cooks have prepared for you…”

Rolling onto her back, she stretched her arms overhead and said casually, “And then perhaps I will in turn take a taste of the Son of Odin…unless our near discovery has made you afraid to keep me within these walls”

“My death has been threatened for less,” Thor said with a smile and a shrug when she quipped about the sin they had just committed.

“And I would have died with greater bliss than anything Valhalla could promise me,” he added with a wink in her direction.

“Nothing makes Thor shy away,” he said with a delighted grin as he approached the bed again, reaching out his hand for her to pull her to him again.

“Although I’m not sure you have any room left between your lips with all of that filth on your tongue…”

He rolled onto his back and pulled her down with him, however, releasing her hand and instead tucking his own hand under his head, eyes closing.

“But, come, let us find out.”

WRITERS’ NOTE

This fic is compiled from an RP. Please excuse any choppiness or flow concerns that may arise because of this.

Also, please note this is entirely AU. Canon ships have been eliminated in most cases, and some timelines and canon stories have been changed for our story purposes and general amusement. Characters alive in the MCU may be dead in this universe and vice versa. Loosely, this RP occurs after Civil War, Spider-Man Homecoming and Ragnarok. Willingly suspend your disbelief and enjoy

~ Lucy and BG Blogger

-1-

  The Island of Solace, Kingdom of Eldorai, Realm of Soleil

The two suns of the blue planet Soleil were both high in the sky. The elder red sun’s warm hues were tempered by the golden rays of the newer and more energetic sun, and together the blazing orbs in the sky illuminated the shoreline of Eldorai. Unlike the beaches of Earth, the sands here were composed of pale blue glass that shimmered and danced as brightly as the warm blue waters that lapped against its shores did. It was here that Paloma Nuage strolled the way she often did in the dual afternoon, enjoying the way the warmth heated her freckled skin. Behind her, two great dog-like beasts padded, though their hulking paws made no sound, as these dogs were not composed of flesh and bone.

They were made of swirling black shadow.

As usual, the dogs were distracted. The glassy pink crabs that scuttled back and forth across the beach put both in a state of excitement. Their nubby tails shook to and fro, and their eyes darted back and forth like two spectators at some sporting event ever tracking the ball. The day was like any other for Paloma and her pets.

Until it wasn’t.

Render was the first to sense that something was not right. The larger of the dogs suddenly growled, turning its blood red gaze toward the sky. Paloma stopped and turned to see what the trouble was, assuming that the silly creature had gotten too close to a scuttling crab and received a well-earned pinch in return.

“You silly poor–” she began but then stopped short, following his gaze to the sky. “What is it, Boy?” she asked.

Paloma turned her hand into a sort of visor for her brow, trying to see if anything threatening was visible in the cloudless sky. “There’s nothing,” she said as if trying to convince herself. “You odd little–”

It was then that Sheagra began to share her brother’s fears, abandoning her nosing at a large lavender shell to join in with the growls. Although always later to react, the female was much more protective of her mistress, and so it was that the beast barreled toward Paloma, flinging the woman over her broad back as she darted toward one of the craggy seacliffs.

“It’s probably just a lunabird confused at the hour!” Paloma protested. “Stop, Girl!”

But Sheagra paid no mind.

She continued to charge along the glassy beach until she reached a crevasse in the cliffside large enough to conceal herself, her flailing mistress and her trailing brother. Once within the crevasse, the two creatures blocked the entry, both snarling and showing their shadowy teeth. And it was only then that the silver metal of a ruined Asgardian space ship began to rain down, shattering the glass beads of the beach into smaller slivers and bringing the first of the travelers that would change Soleil forever to its surface.

A traveler by the name of Bruce Banner.

Biochemistry. Nuclear physics. Gamma radiation. These profoundly intricate scientific studies, ones that oft consumed the waking hours of Bruce Banner, were far easier for the scientist to grasp, to get ahold of than his own state of mind had become in the last few years.

Science–what had once been such a comfort to the doctor now posed an ever-present threat to him, one that he could somehow keep at bay until his heart rate began to pick up and his blood began to race, signifying an impending transformation should he be unable to get his breathing under control.

And the deep breathing exercises he had attempted to master could never quite stop his emotions from getting the better of him.

He had gotten more skilled at it, of course, and learned how to use his monumental mistake to his advantage when necessary. But moments like this, hurtling through the sky in a deteriorating hunk of metal heading for some colorful surface he could not make sense of–these unanticipated moments of panic wiped out years of coping mechanisms and allowed instinctual responses to take over.

Breathing hard and labored, Bruce gripped onto the side of what was left of his quarters in the ship, clinging to one of the walls as if the harder he squeezed onto the metal bar, the easier it would be to calm himself. That did nothing to stop the onslaught of panic and disorientation. The sound of air whistling through the holes in this forsaken section of the ship soon became replaced by a thundering in his ears so loud that not even Thor himself could have commanded it.

Dizzy, Bruce was forced to release his grip on the wall and go clamoring to the floor where his fists balled against it, one lifting up and slamming down onto it again as dread and fear for his life turned into confusion. The fog taking over his mind was often the last thing he remembered in these moments, and he had no choice but to surrender to what he knew was coming.

By the time the piece of the Asgardian ship ran explosively aground, inside there was no longer a mild-mannered doctor inside it. In his place, there raged a half-dressed beast whose roar of fury could be heard long before the metal that housed him was ripped apart from the inside.

With a piece of the ruined ship twice his size in one fist, the Hulk emerged from the ship, standing at full height as he flung what had kept him trapped many yards ahead of him. It was only when he looked at where he’d sent the silver flying that his eyes were able to take in the strange surroundings and the creatures that the metal had fallen just shy of.

There was another roar of a sound as he picked up the remains of the metal and hurled it toward the trio, following the path toward the break in the rock wall with large footsteps that shook the ground beneath him.

Paloma gave a cry of surprise when the ruins of what she could only assume was a spacecraft or a satellite crashed down. Her loyal pets growled more ferociously, causing her to reach a shaky hand out to the shadowy scruff of Render’s neck. “Easy…there could be a survivor and-”

She peeked through the crevasse in time to see a…hulking green beast reduce what was left of his silvery wreckage transport into nothing but shards. “Never mind,” she said, crouching down with terror as the metal was lobbed in their direction.

As the beast came barreling toward them, apparently in hopes of turning them into scraps as well, Paloma cried, “Defend!” to her pets.

Instantly, the two growling shadows leapt out of crevasse. Both hunkered down, hindquarters splayed, front paws flat against the glassy sand. They barked in warning, the sound coming out as aggressive booms. Each bark seemed to increase the size of the dogs until they were level with the waist of the great green man.

The sound of the dogs booming in his direction did nothing to slow the Hulk down, teeth gritted as he barreled toward them with the intent of getting them out of his way as quickly as he could. One of his massive hands came out to do just that with the two dogs in from of him, sweeping his arm across to fling one of them from his path. He could hear the voice of what sounded like a girl as he did, but her pleas for him to stop did nothing to inspire inaction. If anything, it only gave him another target to deal with in a moment.

“Halt and no harm will come to you!” she called to the man, just peeking her head out from the crevasse. “We could be friends? Maybe?”

Unsure this strange green creature had ever met a friend he did not want to eat or crush, Paloma quickly made a decision. She leaned out further from her hidey-hole and focused her gaze on the sizable shadow the green alien had cast along the glass beach. Suddenly, the flat black silhouette emerged from the ground, taking on a life of its own.

“Please stop!” she called at him before she turned the Hulk’s own shadow against him. The giant black mass wrapped its flickery arms around the Hulk’s charging legs much like a child would a parent it was trying to keep from leaving the home bound for battle. The shadow man drug his feet against the sand in hopes of trying to slow the approaching beast down.

Hulk turned around, bending at the waist to see what had dared touch him when he was confronted with, well, himself, essentially. Having something that size facing him down only fueled his survival instincts which in turn made his heavy brow crease and his jaw clench as another frustrated noise came out of him. He did his best to turn around and grab hold of the thing, but before he could, he found himself flat on his back.

“I really don’t mean you harm!” she said as the Hulk’s shadow managed to pull him off his feet. “Sorry!” she cheeped. “Please don’t get back up…”

And as if to discourage him from doing so, the shadow dogs stepped forward and showed their teeth as the shadow hulk held on for dear life, ready to wrestle further.

Ignoring the voice of the desperate girl trying to reason with him, the great green beast reached down to try and pull the shadow version of himself off, only to have the creature lift up his own massive arm to block the movement. When it did, the Hulk had been in motion toward the other being which caused a collision with its fist and his own head. This incapacitated the massive green beast and sent him back against the ground, only this time totally unconscious.

Paloma winced when the green visitor collided with its shadow fist as if she had somehow felt it. Her dogs stopped barking and cocked their heads. Sheagra turned to look at her, making a series of confused yelps that prompted her to say, “No, he does not seem to be very bright…poor thing.”

Before she could go and investigate, the green thing was changing before her eyes, shrinking and growing paler until he was no bigger a man than her father had been.

“Well…” she said, surveying him. “That is…not what I expected to happen.” She approached the naked body hesitantly and bent down, giving it a little tap with her finger.

Sheagra growled a little in protest. “Oh hush. You worry too much. He’s asleep…” Looking to the Hulk’s shadow that was towering over the two of them scratching its head, she said, “If you wouldn’t mind…I think he would be much more comfortable in a bed.”

Hours later, Bruce Banner laid in just such a bed. The blanket covering him was impossibly soft and rippled with the sleeping movements of his body.

Outside, the young sun had set, leaving the landscape bathed in blood red light. The illumination reflected off of mirrors around the windows positioned to reflect at long green ivy vines that grew inside of the simply furnished room. Orchid-like flowers blossomed on the scrolling tendrils and they gave off a bright glow that illuminated the room like lanterns.

Bruce’s unmentionables were covered by a long skirt made out of the same sort of material that dressed the bed, only in a rich shade of copper rather than pale ivory. Paloma wore one to match with a form fitting blouse with a ruffled collar covering her chest where Bruce’s was bare.

Paloma sat watching carefully for any sign that the man might be waking, and when he seemed to be she rose to her feet and came to crouch beside the bed.

“Good halfnight, Traveler,” she said. “You are safe…and I would most appreciate being the same. If you could stay peach and not go green, I would be much obliged.”

Bruce wasn’t sure how long he had been sleeping when unconsciousness left him, and it took a moment for him to open his eyes. He had been enjoying the comfort of the bed until he remembered that he had not been sleeping and should not be in a bed.

No, the last thing he had been doing was heading to his new room on the ship, and then having that room go plummeting from the sky. This realization startled him fully awake and he opened his eyes finally, afraid to look around and see where he was. Or worse, what he might have done.

His worst fears were confirmed when he sat up in a strange place and looked down to see that he was not wearing a shirt. Peering under the blanket, he realized that he had been dressed in something else that was not his, either. Bruce’s eyes closed again; not to sleep this time but instead in dread and shame.

He hadn’t noticed the girl at his bedside until she had crouched beside it and began speaking, and when he heard her say ‘go green,’ he let out a soft sigh and forced himself to open his eyes again.

Bruce pulled the blanket up further around him and held it tightly in his fists. He took in the sight of the red head asking him to remain as he was for her safety, which prompted him to meekly ask before even trying to find out who she was or where he was, “…did I hurt you?

Paloma wasn’t sure if the man in the bed would understand her language or if he could understand language at all. He didn’t seem to when he had been green, but there was much different about him in that moment. Already, she was planning how she might try to communicate with the peach version of the man in hopes of bringing out his greener side. She really had no evidence that he would be safer in peach form, but at least he was smaller.

To her relief, the peach version could speak. "Oh no,” she said kindly. “The only one hurt was you.” She gestured to his forehead. “You ran headfirst into your shadow’s fist.”

Although she frowned with sympathy, Bruce felt relieved at this news. That was the best possible outcome in these situations, and he was often not so fortunate. The explanation of how Bruce had hit his head brought a dull ache of pain to life. He reached his hand up to touch it, and when he did, she explained that he had run into 'his shadow’s’ fist.

Confusion read on Bruce’s face as he lifted his gaze to where she was pointing. The large shadow was sitting in the corner of the room with her two dogs contentedly in his lap.

Paloma followed his gaze and reached out a hesitant hand to touch his arm. “It is a friend. No reason to be afraid. I can send it away, even, if you promise to be peach.”

Despite her assurances, Bruce was startled a little and pushed back on the bed, feeling his heart rate begin to pick up.

Not again. Not now.

“Are you in any pain?”

Bruce closed his eyes and took a few very deep breaths in succession. Though his head did hurt, he shook it to signify that he was fine, eyes still closed.

“I am called Paloma. What are you called, Traveler?”

Careful to only look at his hostess when he opened his eyes this time, he repeated her name and gave a soft, uncertain smile. “Paloma.”

The way he pronounced her name caused the redhead to grin. Paloma had not heard anyone say it aloud in such a long time. She almost asked him to do it again, but thought he might think her odd. Or odder than he probably already found her now that he had discovered her entertaining his shadow while he slept.

“Dr. Banner,” he said as he released the blanket and tried to relax himself. “Bruce.”

“Doctor Banner Bruce,” she pronounced carefully.

“Bruce,” he shook his head as if to correct himself. “Call me Bruce.”

"Bruce,” Paloma echoed, trying out the name. “That is faster to say. And a fine name.”

“Where… what is this place?“

Wondering if he had even actually come here the way he believed as he hardly trusted himself or his memory, he asked, "How did I get here?”

“You are on the Isle of Eldorai on the Realm of Soleil.”

Bruce nodded, even though he had never heard of the place before. That wasn’t new; he had found himself in strange places before and managed to make it out alive. If everyone here was as kind as her, there was no reason to get upset or afraid.

Paloma continued on to tell the tale of his arrival, her voice coming in an excited sort of breathlessness as if she was reliving every exciting moment, “You…fell from the sky. From space, I think. You had some metal with you but you threw at me. I left it where it was if you need it.”

“After you threw it, I made friends with your shadow and tried to calm you down. You gave Render and Sheagra quite a fright and they were barking loud enough to wake the Beyond. I think they only upset you more, though. And then…” She pantomimed him running into the fist.

She got to her feet and went to a basin, retrieving a damp rag. “Would you like me to send off the green you’s shadow?”

“"I can’t make any promises,” he confessed in a soft voice “It…can stay.” It was better if he had something to stop him rather than to get worked up and hurt the kind girl who was taking care of him.

Bruce turned his mind to how he had come to find himself in this unfamiliar world as Paloma saw to her work at the basin. The part about the metal and the sky did make him think that he had indeed come from the ship, which prompted him to ask, “Was there anyone else with me? A blond man, maybe?”

Turning to glance over her shoulder with her hands still in the basin, Paloma shook her head, “No, you were alone. Well, unless the blonde man can become very small…or turn into metal? Otherwise, I think only you made it to my shore.”

Paloma lifted a cloth out of the basin and rang it out. She approached the bed, placing one knee on it. “May I?” she asked gesturing toward his head. “It is soaked in Peaceberry water. It should ease the pain.”

“Thank you,” he said with a tight smile, giving her the go ahead.

Paloma crawled onto the bed more and placed the cool rag against Bruce’s forehead. She sat right in front of him in the space between his legs, leaning close so she could press the soft cloth flat against his skin.

In her new position, Bruce was able to get a good look at her face for the first time and noticed that she was not only kind, but quite pretty as well with large blue-green eyes and a heart-shaped mouth. This thought made him shyly cast his gaze away from her while she dabbed at his skin.

“There,” she said finally with satisfaction and sat back. It was only once she had sat back again that he let himself look at her once more.

“That did help,” he said with an easier, more comfortable smile than before.

“Excellent,” Paloma was thrilled to hear that her remedy had been effective It had always worked for her bumps and scrapes, but she had no idea if it could help an alien. She was relieved to hear that it had, wanting her guest to feel comfortable. Who knew how long he would need to stay there?

“I find that interesting…what did you call it? It’s a…berry with analgesic properties?”

“Peaceberry,” she replied. “Anklejesus?” she repeated. “I am not sure what the meaning of this word is. Our healers have long used it to take away pain. My nurse taught me how to prepare it when I was small. I liked to put it on Papa’s bruises when he would come home from the battlefield.”

  “You’ll be good as new in no time.” She slipped off of the bed and returned with a spiny looking piece of fruit. “In case you are parched and hungry.” She passed the strange thing to him and a slight sloshing sound of liquid could be heard within.

Even more interesting to Bruce than an ‘anklejesus berry’ was the fruit that she brought over to him. His brow furrowed as he took it from her and examined it. “What do you call this?” He asked curiously, moving it by his ear to hear the liquid inside of it.

“Jubub,” Paloma said simply “Do you not have it on your home world?”

As he shook his head and examined the fruit, Paloma could not help but ask “Where were you trying to go when you fell out of the sky, Bruce?”

Bruce moved the strange thing down into his lap and fiddled with it as he tried to come up with an explanation for both himself and her. “I don’t exactly know…I mean, I was leaving Asgard,” he said matter of factly as if everyone was aware.

Paloma’s eyes flashed with recognition when he mentioned Asgard. “I have heard of your world! It is one of the nine realms. Our court mystic taught me the names and locations of all of them in the sky.”

“We were moving its residents to safety,” Bruce continued “And… I have to assume the ship malfunctioned and we did not make it very far.”

That was the best answer he could give. It was either that or Loki’s doing, and he couldn’t be pressed with the thought of so many people in danger and him unable to do anything.

“Who is the blonde man?” Paloma asked in a softer tone. There was a risk the question might upset him, but she could not temper her curiosity.

“Thor, he…” Bruce sighed, trying not to get flustered as he realized he was really alone in this place.

“The King of Asgard. He was on that ship with me. If he made it down here, too, I might be able to figure out what happened and get us back on track. I’m just… apparently alone and at a loss without any further knowledge,” he said the last words breathily and rubbed at his temple with one hand.

Paloma frowned a little. “I’m sorry that I did not see your king, Bruce. Soleil is a large realm, though. There is hope he and the rest of your people landed elsewhere.” How he would ever find them, she had no clue.

That would have to wait, though. For the time being, she could see to his immediate needs. She moved and sat next to him on the bed, putting her back against the headboard.

The thought of Thor being his king earned the woman a laugh. “I’m not really from there. I–the guy you met, he was helping Thor. It–” he waved off what he was saying.

“It doesn’t really matter, does it? I’m here now,” he said with a long glance around the strange room, eyes lingering on the shadows in the corner for only a brief second.

“Your story is important,” she told him. “To me, it is. But you needn’t tell it now for you are correct…you are here now. Safe. And you may stay as long as you need to. I am glad for the company.”

Paloma gestured toward the fruit in his lap. “I can show you how to drink from and eat it…”

Bruce nodded and handed it over to her, his curious eyes watching intently, genuinely intrigued by the thing.

Never taking his eyes off of the fruit, he asked, “Do you live here alone?” He was hoping she’d say yes, but not for any malicious reason; quite the opposite, actually.

For the first time since he had awoken, Paloma’s smile vanished. She looked forlornly at the fruit and shook her head. “I am alone.” Forcing herself not to become as dark as the day was becoming outside with the red sun setting, she looked over at Bruce, “With the exception of my pets, of course.”

Bruce thought to himself that his hostess seemed too kind to have to be alone if she didn’t want to be. He almost felt the need to apologize, but he wasn’t sure what for.

Her confession made, Paloma took the fruit and carefully broke off one of the long spines. “Now, you just go like this.” She inverted the spike and drove it into the dimple that had been created with is removal. A hole appeared in the fruit. “Drink from there,” she told him. “And when it is empty, the shell will cleave, and you can eat the flesh.”

Bruce took the bizarre piece of fruit and turned it up so that he could drink from it. The man hadn’t realized how thirsty he had been until he began to drink it, and it wasn’t long until he had drained its contents.

Finally, unable to resist, Paloma asked, “You said…the guy I met…are you referring to you green? Or…is it…not you? I hope it is not rude to ask. Everyone I have ever met has only managed to be one person at a time, not two. And certainly not one green and one peach. Your species is not familiar to me.”

Bruce let the fruit sit in the cradle of his hands in his lap again and looked down at it as she finished her question, unsure of how to answer.

“It isn’t rude. I’d have questions, too. But, uh… There is no species,” he explained quietly. “I’m the only one like this.”

Bruce looked over at her, trying to figure out how to satisfy her curiosity without giving her more information than she’d asked for.

“Speaking technically, he is me, but…”

He shrugged slowly. “We are not the same. He comes and…I go. Most of the time, without my say so.”

Picking absently at the fruit, he added with a sad smile, “Rarely can I control him. He’s mostly a burden.” Glancing up at her, he finished quietly, “A dangerous one. My biggest mistake.”

Paloma was relieved that Bruce did not think her question was rude. She had been taught to tread cautiously with strangers, as even the slightest of offense could lead to calamity. While she doubted that offending her guest could cause something as serious as a war, she did not want to risk him not liking her, or worse, just leaving.

She listened with wide eyes as he explained that he was the only one who turned green from his world. It made sense that he referred to that side of him as someone else. Paloma could tell that the green half of him was a source of shame, and judging by the question that he had asked when he first arrived, she guessed he had hurt people without meaning to in the past.

“You are one of a kind,” she said gently with a genuine smile. “I am as well…as far as I know.”

The more Paloma she talked, the more Bruce found he liked her. They’d only just met and under bizarre circumstances, but even with her having met his less flattering self before him, she didn’t seem to be afraid and instead thought him to just be unique. The smile he wore when he agreed, “I think you are,” said that he really did think she was the only one of her kind in his own way–in relation to how she thought of Bruce Banner.

Paloma’s attention shifted to the shadowy creatures in the corner of her room. As if sensing her gaze, Render rose to his feet and yawned. He gave a low groan and then snuffed the air. Crossing the bedroom, he hopped up on the foot of the bed.

“He won’t hurt you,” she promised as the dog proceeded to sniff Bruce’s feet through the blanket. “He just wants to know what you are.”

Bruce did not relax even as she assured him everything was fine, but he did calm his muscles a bit once the dog determined him to be okay and rested his head on his foot. He wanted to sit up and try to pet him like she did to say that he was friendly, but he still was a bit off-put by its appearance.

Leaning down, she patted his head, “Bruce is a friend,” she told the dog who promptly flopped down on the bed and put his chin on Bruce’s foot.

“What is a mistake?” she asked, the word having been echoing in her mind. “This is not a word I know.”

“A mistake,” he repeated.

“You know… Something you do that you don’t mean to do. I mean to say, I created him by accident. And now I’ve got to deal with what I’ve done.”

His eyes had moved to the large shadow in the corner as he said those words darkly. With something of a breathy laugh, he said, “but you don’t seem to mind. And I’m not sure how I feel about the fact that you don’t. It’s…nice, but it probably isn’t a good idea.”

“A mistake is an error that you regret, ” Paloma said, summarizing his explanation.

“We do not have a word for this. I was always taught that you must accept your errors and learn from them. Regret is a waste of energy.” Quickly she added, “But I know all cultures are different. Even here on Soleil.”

Bruce looked back down at the fruit as she spoke. It wasn’t as easy as that for him, he thought, but he did not intend to say so. He didn’t intend to go into all of that; she didn’t need to hear his life story or what he wished he could have done different. Paloma didn’t need to know that his mistake had cost many people their lives in the long run. It wasn’t her issue to listen to.

With the unfamiliar word explained, Paloma processed the rest of what he had said. “People where you are from mind that you become green?”

“My friends…they actively try to keep me in situations where I won’t freak out.”

Paloma smiled. The expression that he used was unfamiliar to her, but she could guess his meaning. They helped him to remain calm, as apparently that was the key to helping him stay peach rather than green.

She thought the situation for a moment and said, “I suppose if I did not have my shadow friends it might have been frightening to see you that way. But I do, so no I do not mind that you become him. If it troubles you, though, then I am sorry you find yourself living with your…mistake, as you called it.”

“Life is peaceful here,” she said. “Maybe this will be a good place for you.” Of course, she did not want to get her hopes up that he would stay, but it gave her something to hold onto. Perhaps for at least a little bit of time she would not have to be alone.

Bruce was unsure of how to respond. Surely, he couldn’t stay on this strange world forever; he didn’t know the first thing about it or of her for that matter. But in the same vein, he couldn’t go back to Earth. On Earth, he was just destruction and pain; even when he helped out a city, he did not do so without civilian casualties and destruction of property in his wake. Maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad idea to consider it. After all, it couldn’t be worse than where Thor had found him before.

Reaching out, Paloma picked up the fruit. “You should eat the jubjub before it begins to leak. It is very sticky and it will soon be too dark for us to go and bathe in the sea.”

“Right,“ he mumbled with a nod as he looked down at it, pulling off a piece and popping it into his mouth.

As he chewed, he turned his head back to her. With fruit still in his mouth, he said, "You said I could stay… do you mind if I crash out for a little bit?”

“Of course you may stay….but do not crash, please. You might be hurt.” Paloma said, holding up a hand as if she thought he was going to jump into the sky and then fall onto the ground.

Bruce took another bite, chuckling at her confusion “Just need to…” he motioned at himself absently. “Sleep it off a little more, I think.”

“Oh! Sleep. Of course.” Paloma jumped off the bed and whistled for Render to vacate his spot.

Reaching down, she took the cloth off of his head and set it back into the basin. “A pleasant rest to you, Bruce. I will be right here if you require anything before First Dawn.”

“Thank you, Paloma,” he said softly as he got himself into a lying position again. He watched her from where he lay as she told him she’d be right there if he needed something.

He closed his eyes and pulled the blanket up around him. “I think your…” he yawned through a sleepy smile, “big shadow friend will keep an eye…on me…”

Favourite POC characters:

↳ Tyreese Williams, The Walking Dead