#romantic rival

He sighed and rolled over, looking out across the field he could see out his window, Fireflies danced below the moon and wildflowers bent in the breeze. And in his mind’s eye, Thor saw a night before this one.

He was younger then. A lot younger than he is now… In a lot of ways. Life and love were a game. He didn’t know pain. Or all the ways a careless lover could cause it. And neither did you. And he hated that he was the one to show you. Even if he hadn’t meant to. Even if he had meant to return.

Vows. He’d made promises tantamount to vows. And still, you were going to allow him. And his people to stay. He felt like swine. And his heart lurched. And then lurched once more when he realized that the hammering had stopped. Quietly he slipped his feet over the side of the bed and pulled his shirt over his head. He didn’t bother with shoes. Or with picking up Stormbreaker.

He didn’t think he was going to be attacked. Actually, under hospitality law, he knew he wouldn’t be. You adhered to it too strictly. And then, of course, your people were going to follow it because you did. It was your word and, in Trebuchet’s stead, your word was law. And that was that. Even before. The last time Thor had been here, your word was followed as your father’s had been.

You may not have been the oldest son Trebuchet had wanted, but. You were the heir he had been given. And Trebuchet had embraced it. He had wanted you to succeed. He had wanted you to marry well… To carry on his line… The thought, like it always did, wriggled unpleasantly like a worm at the back of his mind and Thor cringed. He cringed harder when he hit the creaky board in the floor. Once he had known where each board was. But now he felt like an oaf, blundering into the boards meant to keep suitors in their own rooms.

By the time he made it out of the house, Thor was sure that he had awoken the entire house. He was sure he had. Because all around him, beds creaked and a few times, lights had come on, startled awake by the noise.

“Gods,” Thor hissed, rolling his eyes. And for just a moment, he just breathed. Jasmine and the smell of smoke clung heave in the air. The humidity felt like stepping into a bath chamber. But. It did help him center his mind and get away from the frustration of blundering through the halls. That done, he started across the grass, headed towards the forge where he was sure that he would find you. Perhaps sharpening a blade. Or maybe even organizing tools.

He meant to offer assistance.

What he didn’t intend to see was you sitting on a work counter with a man standing between your legs, His hair was white. And his skin was the strange bluish color of skim milk. He was beautiful. And terrifying. And he was evidently eagerly sucking a mark into your neck.

And Thor felt his face heat. It was true, you weren’t naked. But. You were going to be. And this man. Whoever he was. Was going to be the one to put you there. He wondered if you let them stay the night. Or if they had to be gone by morning. Thor had always had to be gone by morning. He couldn’t really even be in your room… But that was in the time of Trebuchet. Before you were a fallen woman.

Thor considered clearing his throat. Startling you apart. Getting that man out of your forge and putting yourself in his place. But then. Thor knew. Knew very well. That until there was an actual treaty and some legal grounding, his having a place for his people to go was tenuous at best. But that didn’t stop the sudden irrational surge of jealousy as he forced himself to turn away. To head back to his bedroom to lick his wounds.

“Gods,” he said again. He was making a hash of this. Acting like some callow youth. Acting like he hadn’t forfeited his rights to you when he’d broken his promises. His promises.

Thinking of those. The whispered words of love, had made him want to travel back in time and punch himself in the face. There was no excuse. He should have known better. Or he should have gently turned you away when you came to him. In your frothy white night gown. Creeping into his room by the light of a single candle. Your hands trembling with the thrill of doing something scandalous. The thrill of doing something out of a song.

Thor shivered at the memory.

It had been sweet. Your inexperience had made him feel… protective. He hadn’t wanted to hurt you. He hadn’t wanted… He hadn’t wanted any of this. He’d really meant to marry you. To father children with you. To greet you every evening when you came in from your forge with kisses.