#soft thor

“Thor, my love,” he says, offering his arm to you. “Lady Natasha asked me to bring you to the queen’s garden.”

“I’d love to say goodbye to the flowers,” eyes filled with tears you try to act like a princess, not the hurt and broken girl you hide so well deep inside of your soul. “My king.”

“I-“ he sighs deeply, shaking his head. “You’re my fate, princess,” Thor smiles when you carefully place your trembling hand onto his arm. “I promise to not hurt you. I’ll be a good king for you, princess.”

“Y/N,” whispering your name you look up at the man holding your life in his hand. “You came all this way to marry a stranger, my king?”

“Heimdall, our seer told me about you,” he offers his arm, and you gladly take it to let him guide you away from your now empty room. “He said my fate lies here, in your lands.”

“Heimdall, the man with the golden helmet and the large sword?” walking alongside Thor you fall into light conversation. He easily leads you toward the garden, remembering the way. 

“He’s a good man, a strong and brave one. Heimdall saved my life more than once,” he chuckles now. “Mostly as I got into trouble and always looked for another fight when I was younger.”

“Oh,” you giggle, “Natasha had to defend me all the time for the very same reason. I loved to run around in the gardens without shoes. The other ladies didn’t like me much as I was a wild child until…”

“Until?” you stop walking when you reach the garden. You sniffle silently, shaking your head as Thor turns to you to cradle your face gently. “Tell me what happened, Y/N.”

“My father died,” tears run down your face, and you need a moment to compose yourself, “and that man pretending to be our people’s king came to our lands, wooing for my mother. I warned her, but she wouldn’t listen to me.”

“She looks lost, your mother,” Thor lowers himself to press a soft kiss to your temple. “Let’s have a look at the flowers. You could take some with you, princess.”

“I could press a few,” you look up at Thor, giddy to pick as many flowers as you can. “Thank you. It will make me happy to have something from my homeland with me. I can imagine the flowers bloom when looking at the pressed flowers.”

“Take your time,” he presses another soft kiss to your temple. “Brunnhilde will wait for you. She’s your shadow from now on, your protector. If you need anything, you can tell her so.”

He leaves you to yourself, smiling as he makes his way back. “Watch over her for me while I prepare our departure with James and Steven,” he says to Brunnhilde. “She’s soft and warm. Unlike our women.”

“Strong too, my king,” Brunnhilde quips, giving her king a knowing look. “She will be a good match, Thor. Just don’t mess with her heart. Heimdall found her for you, now try to keep her.”

“I’ll try my best,” he nods at Brunnhilde, a serious expression replacing the smile on his face, “Shieldmaiden.”

“My king,” she says. “I will watch over your chosen bride.”

“That’s all, my lady,” Natasha furrows her brow at the shieldmaiden not leaving her side. “I will bring you to the ship and protect you from now on,” Sif explains.

“I can take care of myself, lady,” the redhead quips. “I got more than a nice smile and a pretty face to offer.” 

“Shieldmaidens are warriors, strong and fierce. You are only a…maiden. In need of protection,” Sif bemoans.

Smirking darkly Natasha looks Sif up and down. “I’m not strong like you, but fast and,” she gets a dagger out from under her dress to press it to the shieldmaiden’s throat before Sif can even move her lance, “deadly.”

“My sweet fiery lady,” James walks toward Natasha. “Please, don’t shed blood before our wedding night,” he smirks.

“You…cretin!” huffing Natasha slap the wild man’s cheek hard. She grunts. “I agreed to come with you to not leave my princess alone. This has nothing to do with you!”

“She loves me dearly, Sif,” enchanted by Natasha’s fierceness James dreamily looks at her. “Just look at my fierce betrothed, she will give me strong sons to raid her homelands.”

“What? I will give you nothing but hatred,” she insists, but her heart skips a beat when James steps closer to press a soft kiss to her cheek. “Sire!”

“Enchantress, my fiery red-haired maiden, call me Bucky,” she huffs. “You’re even more beautiful when blood-lust and anger turn you into a wild beast.”

“Vulture!” Natasha storms off. She doesn’t stop nor does she spare Bucky a glance when runs after her. “Don’t you dare to get close to me, Sire.”

“Bucky, my love,” he runs after her. “I will love taming you…my wild beast.”

“My queen,” you will yourself to make a curtsy, to pay your mother respect, “I hope you will be well without me. I leave this kingdom as your daughter, and the princess of my country to find a new world and happiness.”

“My child,” the king clears his throat as your mother tries to get up from her throne. “Princess, we wish you a safe journey.” She says instead. 

“That’s all, mother?” you sniff. “You send me away to marry a man I don’t even know. I must leave my home, my family, and life and this is all I will get,” you lose your composure. “You know, you deserve to be unhappy with the man you chose while my father wasn’t even cold.”

“Princess!” the king warns. “Know your place.”

“Oh, I know my place, imposer,” you smirk as he jolts up from his throne, hand grasping for his sword. He only stops his attack as Brunnhilde points her lance at his chest.

“Daughter, I…,” your mother tries, but her voice cracks. She shakes her head, holding back all the words swirling in her mind. “I’m sorry…”

“You may have stolen my mother’s wits, and her strength. You may have stolen my homeland,” you take one step closer to the throne to look the king straight in the eyes, “but you did not steal my strength, nor did you break my will. I will go with my king, become a queen myself and return to get back the homeland belonging to me!”

You twirl around to look at Thor, taking his offered hand. “My queen, my dove.”

“Please bring me home, my king,” your mother can only watch you leave her side, holding back the tears wanting to break free. “Brunnhilde…”

“All for you, my queen,” Brunnhilde replies. “I will deliver it before we depart. Wait for me. Thor and Heimdall will provide safety for now…”

“You should read it in private, your highness,” as promised, Brunnhilde delivered a letter you wrote to your mother. “I promise to watch over your daughter. My king is a wild one, but he will be a good husband.”

“Thank you,” your mother sniffs. “The king is pleased to see my only child leave. He believes we can have a new heir. I just don’t know if I want to give him one. He’s an awful father and husband.”

“Read the letter, and have a little faith,” the shieldmaiden squeezes your mother’s hand. “She will be safe with me.”

Mother, my beloved queen,

I wish I could tell you all the things I didn’t say. Well, I can tell them to you now. 

I want to tell you that I forgive you. You didn’t have a choice. The king is an awful man and I know that he forced you to send me away.

He never wanted me to become queen one day.

I promise to return and free you off him. The man he chose to become my betrothed is a strong one. He will help me find a way back to you.

For now, we must part. Please, forgive me if I acted out on that day. The day we said goodbye.

I love you mother. I love our people and homeland. I will not look back in anger and return soon. 

Please be safe while I’m away.

Love, your Y/N.

Your mother falls to her knees, weeping as the lines of your letter begin to blur.

“My beloved daughter. What have I done?”

“That’s an impressive fleet,” you watch the Northmen prepare for their departure. The men hurriedly carry chests, and boxes on their boats, talking in Norse, laughing and chatting. “Can I ask you something, my king?”

“Of course,” Thor wraps you in a warm coat, readies you for the rough journey back to his homelands. “Go ahead.”

“Why do you speak my mother tongue so well? All of you?” he chuckles at your question. 

“We travel the lands for years, my dove,” Thor flashes you a smile, blue eyes sparkling. “I spend many days with the simple folk in your lands and the nights with the ladies. They taught us your mother tongue.”

“My king,” you gasp. “You shouldn’t talk about…” shaking your head you recall that this man is not a noble one. He’s a wild man without manners, used to talking about lust and raids, drinking, and worshipping a woman’s body.

“Forgive me, princess. I shouldn’t have mentioned other women. My heart belongs only to you from now on,” he whispers in your ear. “Did you say your goodbyes?”

“I did,” fighting the tears you regret that you didn’t hug your mother goodbye. You should’ve told her that you love her and more. Now it’s too late.

“I sent Sif to bring someone here, my love,” Thor points at someone standing further away from the boats. “She wants to see you one last time. Go to her.”

You drop the heavy coat to run toward your mother, crying as she opens her arms. Thor watches you with your mother, sighing deeply.

“She will become a good queen, Thor. Have faith in my visions,” Heimdall says. “Your chosen bride is the right one.”

“I know,” you cling to your mother, crying into her neck. “But taking her away makes me kind of sad.”

You kiss your mother’s temple, whisper your goodbyes, promising to return to her once again. “I love you, mother. Please don’t be too sad. He’s going to be a good husband.”

“My beloved daughter,” your mother cradles your face. “Be strong. Don’t make the same mistakes I made. Let him be your king but be his queen too.”

“I will,” you kiss her one last time. “Promised.”

“Y/N,” she watches you turn around to make your way back toward Thor. He immediately wraps you in the coat, smiling softly.

“You and your lady will take the karve* over there. It has a small half-deck that will shelter you and Lady Natasha from the rough sea and the weather. It will not be a comfortable journey, but I know you will be strong for me,” he says. “Sif and Brunnhilde will stay by your side for the journey.”

“You won’t stay with me?” grasping for his hand you squeeze it tightly. “My king, Thor. I don’t want to stay alone on that boat.” You nervously glance at the men entering the karve*. “Please.”

“No one will dare to touch you or your lady,” Brunnhilde stands next to you. “They know better than to get in our way. Right, Sif?”

“Right,” Sif nods at the shieldmaiden, smirking. “Any man daring to get close to my king’s bride will die.”

“You’ll be safe with Brunnhilde,” Thor kisses your cheek softly. “We will see each other again soon, my dove.”

“Please—” you throw yourself into his arms, seek his warmth, “don’t leave me alone. I-I need someone to stay with me for once. Please.”

“Thor, I can take the lead this time, brother,” a raven-haired man says. His eyes glued to you in his brother’s arms he huffs. Loki never was fond of taking a bride. He only stills his lust and moves on to the next warm body. “I see you found the maiden. Stay with her if you must.”

“Loki, I,” Thor scoops you into his arms, making you squeal. “Take the lead, brother. I will stay with my bride.” Tucked against his chest you can only lean your head against him and enjoy his warmth. “I will bring her home…”

>> Part 3

A (Vi)kings love

@deepsketchsupernaturalcowboy​, @needmorereading​, @marions-wither88

His new bride was often wakeful, he noticed. Sleep was hard to come by and when she did she was often pulled from bed at the least provocation. He’d hoped, that perhaps if he left her to sleep on her own a while. To fall deeply asleep without his snoring to wake her. Or his own tossing and turning she might feel better. Or at least sleep longer. Evidently, that was not to be.

“Just looking over some household accounts,” he said, pushing his chair back slightly and holding out his arms for you to come to him if you wanted. But you didn’t. You hovered near the door, arms wrapped around yourself against the chill.

Earlier in his life, Thor reflected, he might have been offended. But you were young. And shy. It would take time for you to be comfortable with him. After all, you’d scarcely been married two weeks. And you’d been In New Asgard just shy of a month.

“Have I made an error?” you ask, cocking your head. 

“No,” Thor said shaking his head, “Your accounting has been impeccable.”

You smile a little at the praise and Thor stands slowly, picking up his thick robe and grossing the room to drape it around you. “Come sit, with me a while,” he said, “It’s not often I have company so late.”

You nod and he puts an arm around your shoulder and leads you to a chair by the fire before bringing you a small glass of Brandy and tucking his robe around you. It was satisfying, he decided, having a wife to care for. It’s nice when he can watch some of the tension melt from your shoulders as you relax into the large chair he settled you into. Thor poured himself his own drink and took the chair across from yours, stretching his feet out ahead of him. 

“Why do you find yourself awake, My lady?” he asked. You look tired. You need rest. And he’d like to see that you got it. 

“Dreams, your majesty,” you answer quietly, looking away from him.

Thor nodded in understanding and took a sip of his drink, “I have some experience... And I’ve found talking about them helps.”

You shake your head and Thor doesn’t miss the way your hands tremble. “Y/N?” he murmurs, “Are you afraid of me?”

You shake your head again and take a careful drink of your brandy, wincing as it burns down your throat. 

Thor chuckled and got up to pat you on the back when you started to cough, “I’m sorry,” he rumbled, “I’d forgotten how... careful your brother was about your upbringing.” He didn’t want to say sheltered. Even if it was true. Sheltered didn’t sound accurate. Not for someone that spent most of her life cloistered away with ladies and tutors. Kept away from any remotely corrupting influence.

You were innocent. Mostly.

And Thor found some appeal in that. Looking into your face and seeing none of the darkness that he’d seen. It made him want to protect you. So he handed you water instead and knelt next to your chair, “Are you alright?”

You nod again, cheeks coloring, “I’m sorry.”

Thor cupped your chin in his hand and tilted in up carefully. He was always careful when he touched you. Gentle. like he was afraid to hurt you. And in his mind, he supposed he was. His hands were large. Calloused. Used to breaking. And tearing. And your skin was soft. Thin. It felt like silk. It matched the gossamer threads that made up your hair. Everything about you reminded him of a butterfly. Small. Delicate. Made to be cherished. And he felt his heart flutter. 

“Don’t be sorry,” he murmured. 

And he couldn’t help it. He lifted you into his arms carefully, chuckling when you make a soft surprised noise. You never protested. And so he tried not to push. But if he couldn’t get some brandy in your belly to warm and soothe you, perhaps he could get you back to sleep if he held you a while.

“Shhh,” he soothed, resting his cheek on your hair, “Just close your eyes, hmm? Let me keep your dreams away.”

“Your majesty-”

“Thor,” he insisted softly

“Thor,” you start again, “Do you- do you find me wanting?”

Thor paused, tilting your chin up to look into your face, “Who put that idea in my Queen’s head?” he asked. 

“I just- I- I-” you break off, cheeks burning, unable to continue, and several lights go on for Thor.

He chuckles and kisses your forehead, “Sweetheart,” he rumbles, “We’ve got no reason to hurry. And I know. You would have handed me your maidenhead and not so much as sniffled but... I should like to earn your love.”

“Y/N...”

“I am trying!” you threw over your shoulder, stilling. His fingers scratched at your scalp lightly, fingers pressing firmly against the base of your skull. Your eyes slid shut as he massaged along your shoulders before you dropped your head forwards. 

He chuckled as you did so, “feel good?” you hummed in response, “then let me do this.” You were falling asleep as he worked silently, braiding your hair gently, with sure hands and before you knew it he was tapping your shoulder. You reached back, handing him the tie and smiled as he dropped the braid over your shoulder. 

“Perhaps I should repay you for your kindness,” you said getting up and climbing into his lap, arms wrapping around his neck.

Thor hummed, large hands going immediately to your legs, hands slipping up along the outside of your thighs and under the bottom of the shorts you had pulled on that morning. “I did not do it to be repaid.”

“Oh, well, then I guess-” you pulled back, giggles bursting out as he gripped onto your thighs. “Something wrong my love?”

“You mentioned a return?” he asked, voice low.

The quiet purr sent fire flaring out through your body as he grazed your lips with his, hands slipping further, “thought you needed no repayment?”

“Then a show of your love?” he asked, pressing his lips against the column of your neck, dragging you forwards in his lap, pressing his hips upwards.

“Oh, is that all?” a little moan slipping past your lips as you felt him stirring against you. He sucked and nibbled down to your collarbone, dragging his teeth against it before moving further down.

Thor loved the way you gasped, every time he did this, the way your fingers curled in his shirt as you pressed yourself into him, hips dragging down onto his bringing him to life and hardening him further. When he had first met you there had been no doubt that you were interested and it wasn’t long before he was taking you out and courting you. 

Your laughter, your scent, the feel of your hand on his upper arm, he had become utterly smitten with you and he knew there was no turning back, nor did he want to. 

Clothes hit the floor, Thor dragged you under him, lips seeking skin, tongue flicking out to pull little gasps from your lips. It never got old, the way you offered yourself up to him. Soft and yielding as he pressed between your legs, pulling them around his waist. His name torn from your lips as he whispered against them, “precious, wonderful, so good,” he moved slowly, taking his time as he filled you, wanting to feel you wrapped securely around his cock, telling you just how good you felt. Loved slowly exploring your body with his, finding new ways to make you gasp his name, new ways that would cause you to arch into him, dragging him closer, ways that made your legs lock around him, heels digging into his lower back. “That’s it, so good for me,” he growled, you were his addiction, he couldn’t get enough of you and he wondered if he had gone mad?

Heat rose to your cheeks, you moved a hand covering your face, stifling an embarrassed chuckle. Thor tutted, pulling your hand away and pressing his lips against yours, hips never ceasing as he felt you tighten around him, growling lowly as he drove into you steadily. He loved when you writhed beneath him, begging him to go faster, the way you still shied with him even after months, the way your nails dug into his shoulders, tugged at his hair, and raked down his back. 

“Thor?” Gods, he was addicted to your small whimpers, the taste of you, all of you.

He caught your eyes with his own, watching as you bit on your bottom lip and soothing it with a swipe of his tongue, sucking it between his own and leaving a kiss there. “Y/N,” he smiled, hand catching your jaw, “ready?” you nodded, the coil in your belly tightening, snapping as he drove into you harder, faster. It always ended like this, you first with him losing his rhythm, driving into you desperate and wanting. Until he let out a loud groan, which never failed to make you shiver beneath him, burying his face in the crook of your neck and filling you. 

Thor huffed against your neck, lightheaded and satisfied. “I love you.” He grinned as you responded with giggles, the sound that always made his heart flutter. 

“I should hope so!” you said lips fluttering along his shoulder, up his neck and along his jaw. You poked his ribs when he did not move. “Thor?” He grinned against your skin, “look at me?” His lips pressed against the hollow of your neck, tongue swiping along your quickening pulse as he gently circled his hips, “no more till you look at me you fool!”

You caught his head in your hands laughing as he tried and failed to keep from looking at you. “Won’t you give me a chance to say it back?” he looked at you then, eyes soft, “you fool, haven’t I told you plenty of times?”

Thor thought of your hand in his, the way you pressed your back into him, letting him wrap you in his arms. How you curled into him in the soft light of the mornings, your laughter reserved only for him. The way you fought alongside him in battle, always confident that he had your back. And he would, always.

“I said it first,” you said scrunching your face at him. 

“Then I will always say it last,” he countered rocking his hips against yours. You shoved a hand against his face, his hand locking around your wrist, lips pressing into your palm. 

“Jerk... sexy, unfair, giant jerk.”

“A jerk you very much are in love with,” he hummed as your eyes fluttered shut. “I do believe I have won this argument.”

“Shut it.”

It wasn’t the cockerels crowing that woke you, but the dogs excitedly greeting someone.

“Whuh time issit?” you mumbled into Thor’s hair, your hand resting on his still full tummy as you spooned the sleepy Thunder God.

“Too early.”

He wasn’t wrong. Groggily you pulled yourself away, rummaging around for something to throw on so you could investigate who your visitor was.

Opening the bedroom door, you spied the Valkyrie crouched down by the settee, rubbing Geri’s tummy.

“Why?” you asked, not really awake enough to form a proper question.

“Why what?” Valkyrie responded, continuing to fuss the dog at her feet.

“Why are you here? Now? At this godforsaken time?”

“Has Thor forsaken this time in particular?”

Your glare said it all.

“I jest, sorry. Have you been online? Checked your phone? Seen or heard the news?”

“For fuck’s sake, Brunnhilde,” you said, startling the dogs and finally rousing Thor, “I’ve literally just gotten up. Because of you. When would I have done any of that? And why does it matter?”

“I’ll make the coffee, you go get Thor.”

You’d barely turned and taken a step, when you collided with the solid mass that was your lover.

“What’s wrong? Why is the Valkyrie here?” he asked, holding you to his stomach.

“Not a fucking clue.”

You weren’t exactly a morning person. Even less so after a few cocktails, and when your awakening had been rude. Not the good kind of rude, either. Thor knew, from prior experience, that waking you unexpectedly was like deciding to disturb a wasp’s nest. Nothing good would come of it and it wasn’t something you’d likely repeat in a hurry. You were a surly, venomous grump, sure to sting whatever had disturbed you.

Either Brunnhilde was more foolhardy than he thought, or something was seriously wrong.

Brunnhilde returned to find you slouched on the settee, buried in Thor’s hoodie with the hood pulled up and over, almost to the point of covering your eyes, in a vain attempt at ignoring the world. The steaming mug of caffeine placed on the table next to you was met with a snort of derision, and it was with no small amount of trepidation that Thor sat next to you, before pulling you onto his lap. Maybe whatever had brought the Valkyrie would concern only him, and you could doze off against his chest.

“Did you enjoy your pizza last night?” Brunnhilde asked, breaking the frosty silence.

“Yes,” Thor smiled at the memory. “How did you know we had pizza?”

“That’s what brought me here. I’m sorry it’s so early.”

Why would pizza have brought her here, Thor wondered. Did she need a recipe? Did she have some left over? Was she planning to open a pizza place in New Asgard?

“Someone… someone, erm, they snapped some pictures of you. The two of you. In the restaurant. They must’ve recognised you.”

“So?” Thor queried softly, hoping that you had begun to return to sleep in his arms.

“Well, they sold them to some media people. You’re, erm, trending on Twitter. I wanted to tell you before you saw for yourselves, some of the reporting is… unflattering.”

Yeah. Thor could already picture it. Being fat and in the public eye was just a magnet for the worst kind of people.

“If they’ve worked out who Y/N is, it’s not been published yet, but it’s only a matter of time,” Brunnhilde continued.

“Ah, balls,” you said, finally joining the conversation.

“Indeed. A few months back, I asked some friends to do some digging on you. Don’t be alarmed, I just wanted to be prepared for the time when it eventually emerged that you and Thor were together. I didn’t find anything to be worried about in what they found on you, but I understand that there may be things that you’d prefer to stay private. The silence of those involved can be arranged, if you wish.”

There were certainly things in your past that you weren’t exactly proud of. You probably should’ve realised that you couldn’t stay under the radar forever.

“No, it’s ok. Don’t waste your resources, or those of your friends. I’ve been alive long enough to know that if the tabloid press thinks there’s a story, they’ll dig it up somehow. Or just make one up. I’ve done what I’ve done, and that’s the end of that. Anyone commenting on my life probably has stuff they’d rather keep secret,” you answered with a sigh.

“Very well. Do you want to read the dossier?”

“No, no. I’m sure it’s very thorough and accurate. Thor, do you want to read it?”

“Anything you wish to tell me about your past, you can tell me about yourself,” he answered, running his fingers through your hair. “Whatever you have done, it’s of no consequence. You’re here now, that’s all that matters. Some youthful follies could not reverse my love for you.”

You nuzzled your face into his chest hair to hide the tears you could feel beginning to sting your eyes.

“Is that all, Brunnhilde? May we return to bed?” Thor said.

“Yes, of course. Apologies once again for disturbing you. I just wanted you to hear it from a friend before you heard it elsewhere.”

You were fast asleep again by the time Thor gently laid you back on the bed. You must’ve been warm in his hoodie, the early rays of sunshine beginning to seep into the bedroom, but he didn’t want to disturb you. His mind was all over the place, so he decided to check the news on your tablet while you were tucked into his side.

Thor’s Hammered!

King of Ass-gard

Pizza Gut - Avenger destroys pizza buffet

Thor quickly put the tablet back down. It stung to read the words they wrote about him, but even worse was what they wrote about you. They didn’t know you, why did they get to judge you, speculate about who you were and why you were with him? You were just another name on the long list of loved ones he wasn’t able to protect.

Gingerly removing himself from your side, relieved when he didn’t wake you, Thor decided to sit back on the settee, letting Loki slither over him. The snake wasn’t as helpful as his brother, but he found it calming anyway.

15 minutes later, the sound of a message being received made him jump. Unlocking his old phone, he saw it was a message from Brunnhilde.

I know you said you didn’t want to know about Y/N’s past, but I think you might find this interesting…

There were several links at the bottom of the message. Thor didn’t want to pry, he really didn’t, but he couldn’t help but be curious as to what was that important that Brunnhilde had felt the need to send him a link.

Moving as quietly as he could, he returned to the bedroom to grab the tablet, before settling back down to see what had been sent.

Typing the address was a torturous process, his fingers weren’t quite dexterous enough to easily manipulate Midgardian devices, although he was becoming more careful with them. Still, he nearly dropped the tablet when he saw where the link took him to.

It was a gallery of pictures. Pictures of you, to be exact. You weren’t naked but it was obvious that these weren’t the kind of pictures you shared with friends or family. He’d heard about these kinds of sites, adult sites they were called. The model had a different name, but it was definitely you. No doubt about it.

Pictures of you in corsets that pushed up your breasts and cinched in your waist. Pictures of you with chokers around your throat. Some pictures where you wore clothing made of a strange material that seemed to fit you like a second skin. Some more where you wore beautiful lingerie in vibrant colours, brilliant blues and vivid violets.

The pictures on the next link were a little different. Leather gloves, ball gags, handcuffs. Fishnet stockings and knee-high leather boots. Why had he never seen any of these outfits? Carefully gripping the tablet with one hand, he moved the other inside the waistband of his pants, rubbing at the head of his excited cock.

For a split second, he considered what Brunnhilde had thought of these pictures. Had she shown them to Sif? What if they’d both enjoyed them?

His cock grew harder at the thought.

And he knew he should feel a little ashamed. You hadn’t mentioned these pictures, so it probably wasn’t something you were proud of, but he couldn’t help but look, hope that others had looked, and seen just how sexy you were.

He didn’t really understand the third link. That seemed to be a niche site. You were barely visible, clad in rain gear, and wrapped in heavy duty tape to secure you to a post.

But, Brunnhilde really had saved the best until last.

Bound, gagged, blindfolded. Eyes wide in another as you looked at the woman stroking your hair as you sat tied to the chair. If he had to be king, he’d insist on having a throne, just so he could recreate that image with you. Only, in his version, you’d be wearing a lot less clothes, his face between your thighs, eating you out until the only thing keeping you upright were the ropes that held you in your place.

It was funny. He’d not really enjoyed being in chains, in a cage, when he’d encountered Surtur. But the thought of you being bound, held captive while he pleasured you in all the different ways he knew how. Now, that was something he liked the idea of.

Freeing his cock, he began to stroke in earnest, the images he’d just seen and images of what he’d like to do to you fuelling his desire. The harder he thought of them, the harder he got, and the harder he pumped his fist.

His orgasm was explosive, and Loki hissed at him angrily. Geri and Freki perked up their ears to see what the fuss was about. He knew he should move and clean himself but he was comfy, he was relaxed, he could rest here for a moment or two.

***

Evidently it was more than a moment or two when he awoke to the sound of pans clanging around in the kitchen. There’s no way you couldn’t have seen him, and there’s no way he could pretend it was anything else. He’d fallen asleep with his cock out, the evidence crusted onto his tummy.

Tucking himself back into his pants, he approached the kitchen with caution.

“Good morning, my love,” he tried.

“Good afternoon,” you corrected. “Dare I ask?” you said, looking at his gut pointedly.

Nothing good would come of lying, so he tried his best to explain the truth.

“Ah, well, what happened was, you see, Brunnhilde sent me an electronic letter with some links on my phone. So I looked at them on the tablet,” he explained.

“Brunnhilde sent you porn?”

“Yes. I mean no. I mean maybe? The links were to pictures of you.”

“Ah,” you said, understanding. “Brunnhilde’s friends found those.”

“I suppose so, yes.”

“Well, I’m glad you enjoyed them. I enjoyed doing them.”

Thor doesn’t ask for an explanation, doesn’t press you, doesn’t tell you about his fantasies. You’ll tell him when you want to, if you want to. He’ll tell you when you’re not trying to cook avocado eggs Benedict.

“I’m going to take a shower,” he mumbles before walking off to the bathroom. He’s glad that you’re not angry or upset, but he’s still embarrassed that you caught him in that position.

The shower is cold, but not cold enough to cool him down from his thoughts. Thoughts of those photos, thoughts of last night, and thoughts of what he’d like to do with you in the future. He could probably roll around on Jötunheimr and still feel too hot.

He’s quiet during brunch, but you don’t press him. You just hold his hand, silently telling him that everything will be alright.

You’d briefly checked your phone before Thor had woken up. There were so many notifications, you were afraid it might crash, and you’d put it back down again. Today was an historic day for New Asgard, you didn’t want to overshadow it by worrying about what Twitter trolls had to say about you. It keeps buzzing on the table next to you, and you continue ignoring it.

“Are you going to check that?” Thor asked. “It might be something important.”

“I don’t really want to, I’m afraid of what I might see,” you said.

“I understand, but the longer you leave it, the worse it will be. Maybe just check if there is anything from your family. You don’t want it playing on your mind throughout the day.”

Thor’s right, and so with a resigned sigh, you picked up your phone and looked at your notifications, dismissing anything that wasn’t important.

A message from Sam on Skype that read I knew you had a thing for older men, didn’t realise you liked them THAT old ;-) now I know where you are, let me know when I can visit. Ignore the haters, they’re just jealous.

There was also an entire chain of emails from your mum, without a subject. She’d never quite gotten the hang of email.

Is this you/??>????? And then a link to a news website.

It is, isn’t it.

WHy didn’t you tell us. Where you were????

Your father is looking at flights.

He’s found some cheap ones with Ryanair, we’re coming over in a fortnight. Flying to Oslo. Charlie is coming too.

He can’t find anywhere to stay in New Asgard, are there no hotels????

Answer me.

“Ah, fuck,” you said, staring at down at your phone.

“What’s the matter?” Thor asked, worried that you’d seen something critical of you.

“My family knows where I am now, they’re coming to visit,” you mumbled. “In two weeks.”

“That’s wonderful news, I can’t wait to meet them,” Thor said, kissing your hand.

“Yeah,” you said doubtfully. You loved your family, but they could be tricky at times. They were hurt, of course, by your vagueness on the subject of your whereabouts. You already knew they were going to make some unintentionally hurtful comments, either about Thor, or about Alex, or both. They were also likely to do the same about you.

“Two weeks,” Thor mused, still enthusiastic about the prospect of meeting your family. “I think that gives me sufficient time to build a place for them to stay.”

It was lovely that he was excited by the prospect, but you groaned internally. Something told you that Thor was not going to have time for much if the vote went the way you thought it would.

“I’ll tell them we can accommodate them somewhere,” you said, firing off a quick email. “Now, let’s forget about this and focus on the task at hand. Brunnhilde wanted us there no later than two, that only gives us an hour.”

***

At 2:10 you arrived at the mead hall, Thor in his full regalia, you in the dress he’d gifted you for the May Day feast. Geri and Freki loping along behind you. You went to add the one remaining cake to the long table of food, while Brunnhilde intercepted Thor.

“Is everything alright, after this morning?” she asked him.

“Yes, I think so. Y/N is strong, although her family have elected to visit. That seems to have shaken her,” Thor sighed.

“It must be hard to face someone you thought was dead, even if you love them, once you’ve been through the grieving process,” Brunnhilde noted.

“It is.” Thor knows it’s hard, he went through it enough times with Loki, but he’d do anything to have his brother back. Or his mother, father.

There are flowers everywhere. Bouquets on tables, bunting hanging from the rafters, and people everywhere with flower crowns on their heads. Thor’s pleased with how well they’ve turned out. He makes a note to thank everyone involved, as well as to the plants for blooming so abundantly for him. There was something very satisfying about growing things and tending to them, becoming one with nature.

He’s not surprised when you return with a flower crown, plus one each around the dog’s necks. He doesn’t think they’ll last long, which is why he’d made sure to cultivate flowers that wouldn’t make the dogs sick when they inevitably tried to eat them. Thor particularly likes how you look with your flower crown. He’s seen you wear one before, of course, but they really do suit you. He hopes that if he has to be king, then perhaps one day you’ll wear a different kind of crown.

“Hello, Brunnhilde. Apologies for our lateness. I didn’t grab a crown for you but if Thor doesn’t want this one, I’m sure you can have it,” you offered, holding out the wreath.

“That’s quite alright, I’m not really one for crowns,” Valkyrie answered with a small shake of her head. “I’ll leave you two to mingle, just don’t be late for the vote announcement.”

“We won’t,” Thor assured her, knowing full well that they won’t start without him. “I fear this may not be the only crown I accept today,” he continues, taking the flowers from you and placing them on his head.

“I’m sorry,” you said, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips. “I’ll support you, no matter the outcome.”

Thor knows this, and he’s glad of it. He’s still not comfortable with being in charge, quite content with his life, building things, tending to the plants, and playing with his animals. But at least he doesn’t have to do it alone. After Loki died, he was so very alone. Korg and Miek were great, but there was something missing in his life, a much closer form of companionship that he’d finally found again.

“Let us mingle, I’m sure there are many children who will be glad to pet the dogs,” Thor said, looping his arm with yours at the elbow.

*** By the time it gets to the hour of the announcement, Geri and Freki have had their bellies rubbed by seemingly every child in New Asgard, much to their delight.

A little boy had brought you a small posy of flowers, and was extra pleased when Thor held him in his strong arms and let the child place the flowers in Thor’s beard. It’s very haphazard, and a little one-sided but Thor’s pleased with the end result, when you show him in your pocket mirror.

It makes him ache desperately to have a child - well, children - of his own. He thinks about what kind of uncle Loki would’ve been.

Hopefully he wouldn’t have stabbed them.

It’s too hot in the mead hall. Thor’s been trying to drink slowly, aware that he’s drinking out of nerves more than anything.

Dutch courage, you’d called it. Allegedly, Dutch soldiers had drunk jenever before going into battle. Thor considered that a little risky. Drinking was best done after battle, being clumsy while handling a weapon didn’t strike him as the best strategy. Then again, it seemed to work fine for Brunnhilde. It didn’t really happen to him, but supposed many people got nervous before a fight.

Thor knew you had a Dutch friend, a teacher. He wondered if they might bring jenever with them if they ever came to visit?

Bruce came over, crowds of Asgardians parting easily for his bulky frame.

“Hey buddy,” he said, hugging Thor. “Are you ready?”

“About as ready as I’ll ever be,” Thor answered. A few years ago, he’d thought he was ready. Had almost been crowned king.

He never thanked Loki for royally screwing that up. It was only now, with hindsight, that he could appreciate the favour his brother had inadvertently done him.

“It’s time,” Bruce told Thor, throwing an arm around his shoulders. Thor looks back at you, but you shake your head. This is an Asgardian matter. Your place is at the back with Geri and Freki, not onstage with Asgard’s elite.

“Do you know?” Thor asked Bruce, desperately.

“No Thor. Even if I did, I couldn’t tell you,” Bruce noted. “Whatever happens, you have people that care about you. It won’t be like it was before.”

Thor joins Valkyrie, Sif and several others onstage. Bruce waves his hands, dampening down the crowd that buzzes like a hornet’s nest. Despite all the assurances, this is still a volatile situation and Bruce says a silent prayer that everything works out for the best.

“Thank you all,” Bruce addressed the crowd. “Thank you for trusting in the process and for allowing us, as outside observers, to count all of your votes. No system will be perfect, but we hope that you will all respect the outcome, whatever it may be. It took three rounds of voting for an option to gain over 50% of the vote. I’ll now hand over to Captain America, who has the results.”

Bruce steps down, stands to the right hand side of the stage as Sam steps forward. Anticipation builds around the room, like static during a storm. Sif holds hands with both Thor and Valkyrie, holding in a breath as she waits to see which of the people she cares about most will draw the short straw of heading Asgard.

She fervently hopes that the people will have chosen another option, but she doubts it. Most Asgardians fell on one side of the divide or the other - traditionalists who wanted to continue the existing royal family, and those who felt that Brunnhilde was the best leader amongst those left.

“Thank you, Bruce,” Sam said, grateful that someone the Asgardians were familiar with had addressed them first. “The result is very close, but let me assure you, it is accurate. We counted every single ballot ten times, just to ensure there was no discrepancy. With 50.8% of the vote, the people of Asgard have chosen the option of an octarchy.”

The room erupted with people cheering, complaining, or otherwise chatting with people about what it all meant. Sam waited for the commotion to die down before continuing.”

“Furthermore, the proposed solution, as outlined within the election materials is that Thor, son of Odin.” Sam paused, Thor’s full title sounding odd coming out of his mouth, but that was what the piece of paper he was holding said. “Thor, son of Odin, shall rule as king, and head of state.”

Thor paled visibly and your heart went out to him, glad that Sif was holding his hand.

“Succession will be a matter of blood, as it has always been, unless Thor shall have no issue. In that event, the people of Asgard will once again convene to decide how they wish to be governed. Brunnhilde, of the Valkyrior, shall serve as his second in command. She will rule in his absence or if he is incapacitated, if Thor does not have an heir of legal age.”

Sam shook his head. He shouldn’t have let Bucky write the speech, he should’ve known his metal-armed partner would try to stitch him up with flowery Asgardian language. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Bucky smirking, standing next to Bruce. Sam makes a mental note to put on his suit later, pick Bucky up, and drop him in the North Sea.

“The other six members of the council will be chosen as follows. Thor, son of Odin, and Brunnhilde, of the Valkyrior, shall each choose one. Two more shall be elected by the people of Asgard. The final two shall be selected at random in a lottery of all citizens who have come of age. These positions shall be reviewed every ten years, unless circumstances, or the will of the people dictate otherwise.”

The place descends into chaos, even the dogs start barking at all the noise, and it only stops when the valkyrie gets to the front of the stage and lets out an ear-piercing screech. Everyone stops what they’re doing and looks at her, wincing.

“Settle down everyone, settle down,” she shouted. “I respect this result, just as I said I would, and I pledge to serve both Asgard and its king to the best of my ability, as long as I am able to do so. I would like to thank you for your trust and patience during the time in which I served as Asgard’s caretaker. I know that not all of you were happy with the situation, but I hope I served you well. There is one among us, who I would like to nominate for inclusion on the council. However, I am aware that some of you may feel it is a conflict of interests. As many of you are aware, the Lady Sif and I are in love. She is my nomination if you will accept her.”

Raucous applause erupts. Sif is well liked, and most people are pleased to have her helping to steer Asgard’s course, even if she’s a little too eager to head into battle at times.

“Very well, I thank you all for your trust,” the valkyrie continued. “While I have the floor, there is one more thing I wish to do. I was going to do it later, but I think now is best, to declare my love in front of all those I serve.”

This time it’s Sif’s turn to go pale, as the Valkyrie sinks to her knees, turning back to Sif.

“Lady Sif,” Brunnhilde began. “I have lived long and travelled far, and there is no beauty that can compare to yours. Your love shines brighter than any star, and I am a better person for you sharing it with me. I have no title or riches to give you. This is but a small trinket, for I have already given you the greatest gift I have to give, which is my heart. I would be honoured if you would accept this ring as a token of my love, as is the custom on much of Midgard, and agree to be my wife.”

Sif is openly sobbing, and Thor’s not sure he’s ever seen her cry before. Scores more around the room wipe away tears as Sif slowly moves forward, allowing the Valkyrie to slip the ring onto her finger. Once it’s in place, Sif takes Brunnhilde’s hands and pulls her up, embracing her tightly and kissing her fiercely to a chorus of cheers.

It’s a wonderful sight, and you’re glad that there’s something for Asgard to celebrate, even if the vote didn’t go everyone’s way. Your throat goes dry as Thor nervously makes his way to the front of the stage to speak.

“Hello everyone. Apologies if I seem nervous, it has been many years since I last addressed so many,” he said, fiddling with the hem of his cloak. It’s far too hot to be wearing it, but he’d insisted that this was an important occasion and that he should dress accordingly.

“My congratulations to the Lady Sif and the Lady Brunnhilde. Theirs is an excellent union, and I wish them an eternity of happiness together.”

Thor waits until the cheering dies down before continuing.

“I, too, respect and honour the results of this vote. No man can outrun his destiny, and it seems mine will always be to rule Asgard as its king, even though I feel ill-equipped to do so. Fate apparently wills it so. I have not led Asgard well these last few years, and I apologise for that from the bottom of my heart. I have been remiss in my duties. I know that some of you do not trust that I have changed, but I give you my solemn word that I have. That I will act for the good of Asgard, and the other eight realms, as long as there is life in my breast.”

The entire room draws a collective gasp as Thor sinks to one knee. Panic sets in. This can’t be happening. Surely he’s not about to propose as well?

“I kneel before you, as your humble servant,” Thor continued, and you sighed in relief. “Too long, the people of Asgard have knelt before the throne. No more. I kneel before you all, and ask for your forgiveness. I am not the man I was, but I hope with time, that I will become someone better, someone worthy of the position that I find myself in.

“Asgard is not a place, it is a people. My father told me that, and I see now how true it is. I thank each and every one of you for trusting and believing in Asgard, in each other, when I did not trust or believe in myself. Together, you have created something strong and beautiful. I thank you for sharing it with me. You have rebuilt, you have shown incredible strength and fortitude.

“I am sorry for abandoning you. It is the most dishonourable and cowardly thing I have ever done. I asked the Valkyrie to rule in my stead, because I felt she was the best person for the job. I am truly sorry for abandoning Asgard in her hour of need. Thank you, all of you. Thank you for preserving our traditions and stories. Thank you for building a new home for us all. Thank you to everyone who has helped today. Baking delicacies, creating flower crowns, playing music. All that you do, on this day and every day, to ensure that we survive, that our culture survives, is appreciated by me.

“I hope to be able to thank you all individually, but please understand, it may take me some time. I kneel before you, as your king, humbled by the faith you still place in me. I shall work to rule as a king of the people, not above them. The throne should not be an untouchable pedestal on which I am put.

“Although I do not have a crown, I kneel before you, ready to serve Asgard, completely and unreservedly.”

“About your crown,” a voice called from the stunned crowd, as all eyes turned to look at Lorelei. She walked slowly through them, people parting for her, before she stopped in front of the stage, directly in front of Thor.

“When Hela attacked, many of us realised that Asgard was in peril. As we fled the city, some of us gathered up important artefacts. I apologise for keeping this from you, your majesty, but there never seemed to be an opportune moment…” she trailed off, reaching into a leather satchel, slung low against her hip.

Several people fainted, as with trembling hands, she pulled a crown from it.

“My-my father’s crown,” Thor mumbled, stunned.

“Yes, your majesty,” Lorelei explained. “I apologise again for keeping it secret, but you had already lost so much, I did not wish to remind you of your father. I have kept it safe, all these years. I believed that one day, you would be restored to the throne. I believed that day would be today.”

With trembling fingers, she reaches out the crown as Thor lowered his head. Tears were running down his face, into his beard, for everyone to see as he sat back up, slowly rising to his feet.

A collective sense of shock reverberated around the room, and you anxiously stroked your two dogs, who sat flanked you on either side.

“Thank you, good Lady Lorelei. This truly is an extraordinary gift. I thought I would never see this again, let alone wear it. I do wonder, now, what else was saved from Asgard, but that is a matter for another time,” Thor advised. “I have but one more matter to discuss, before it is time to feast. There is much to celebrate this day, and I hope it is one that will long be remembered.”

Thor paused, taking a moment to look around the hall. His friends, his people looking up at him. It filled him with a tiny spark of confidence that everything would work out fine this time, unlike when he had told Loki it would, all those years ago, after Asgard was destroyed.

“Like the Lady Brunnhilde, I too have someone I wish to nominate to the council. Like her, this person is one who is very dear to me,” he noted, looking across the heads of everyone to look you in the eye.

Thousands of heads turned to face you as you froze, wishing the ground would swallow you up.

“I wish to nominate the Lady Y/N. She has done so much for Asgard, though her time with us has been short so far,” Thor admitted. “As an outsider, I believe she has much knowledge and wisdom to offer us about Midgard, its people, and their customs. Her counsel is invaluable to me, and I would like to offer her a place at this table, if there are no objections.”

Deathly silence descends, everyone waiting for someone to say something.

“A wise appointment, your majesty,” Leifr spoke up, and a chorus of cheers echoed around the room.

“It is settled then,” Thor exclaimed happily. “The other four positions shall be determined in due time, but now I say it is time to eat, drink, and dance our fill. There is much to celebrate as we enter into a proud new chapter in Asgard’s history.”

Everything was a blur for several hours as you try to process exactly what’s happened. Thor being king again was something you expected, and he seems to be taking it well. His speech was genuinely moving and you could see many Asgardians visibly softening to him as he spoke.

But appointing you to be one of Asgard’s eight rulers?

No. No no no. This could not be happening. You didn’t belong here, didn’t want that kind of responsibility.

Judging by the way people keep congratulating you, it definitely is happening. You barely have an appetite, pushing your food around, eating small amounts whenever Thor prompts you to try this dish or that.

It had been a productive few hours for the other three newly instated rulers. Between them, they’d managed to hash out a plan for getting the other council members appointed. They’d even found time to draft a press release with Pepper, covering the events of the day. The world media would be taken aback. New Asgard had never released any information before. Along with the details of the election, Pepper had made sure to note that the new rulers would be willing to engage with journalists going forward to ensure transparency about what the kingdom was doing, but that they would not interact with any outlet that did not respect Asgardian privacy or engaged in hurtful gossip about them.

Apparently, the prince of another country, and his wife, had done something similar a few years prior.

You sit completely zoned out, a zombie. Utterly alone while surrounded by people. Geri and Freki lie protectively at your feet, aware that something is wrong.

Even Thor can sense that something is amiss. You’re paying no attention to him eating increasingly absurd portions. He even mentioned that he was getting full and you just nodded politely, a slightly vacant smile plastered to your face. You didn’t even try to touch his stomach, where it sat pressed up against the table.

Eventually, Sam manages to make his way over, whispering in Thor’s ear. You’re dimly aware that they’re talking about you, by the way Thor keeps glancing nervously in your direction.

“Let us go for a walk,” he said, standing up and tugging at your elbow. “Young Sam said that you look like you could do with some fresh air.”

Moving on autopilot you follow him, Geri and Freki loping along behind you. He leads you down to the beach, the sun setting in the distance as Thor gently maneuvers you into sitting down on a driftwood log.

“Are you quite alright?” Thor asked, running his fingers up your bare arms as he crouched awkwardly in front of you. “You seem distant, distracted.”

“This is all just very overwhelming,” you said, looking at your hands where they rested in your lap.

“I agree, much has happened today. We can return home, if you wish?”

“Why did you appoint me to the council?” you whispered, voice shaking. “I don’t know if I’ll still be here in ten years. What if we split up? I don’t belong here, I’m not Asgardian. I don’t want this responsibility, I’m not qualified, I don’t want to do this.”

Thor’s heart sank and he let out a sad sigh, finally sitting on the soft sand, his hefty stomach making it hard to keep his balance while he crouched. He’d done it again. He’d thought only of what he wanted and hadn’t consulted you. He’d upset you, ruining your evening.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, tipping your chin up to make you look at him. “That was thoughtless and selfish of me, I should have consulted you before announcing my plan. Today has been trying for you, and you were already anxious and upset. I’m truly sorry for burdening you further.”

“I know you didn’t mean to Thor, but I’m so scared and sad.”

“Oh my love, no. I really am such an oaf,” Thor said sadly, pulling you into the small amount of lap he had left. If he kept on like this, he was going to really struggle to hold you like this soon.

He wants to kiss your lips, to kiss away all the hurt and worry he sees in your eyes, to kiss it better like his mother used to kiss his and Loki's scrapes and grazes. But he lets you bury your face in his shoulder. All he can do is cuddle you while you cry, chest heaving against his, while he rubs little circles onto your back, mumbling apologies all the while.

“I’m so sorry. I never meant to upset you, to make you scared or anxious. I can see that I was mistaken, even though I only meant it as a good thing, as a compliment to your character and your intelligence. I truly know of no other in the whole of Asgard more capable than you, not even Brunnhilde,” Thor explained. “You are wise for one so young, and far more learned than any of us when it comes to this land we find ourselves in. Please, allow me to apologise unreservedly for the hurt I’ve caused. Allow me to make it right, allow me to pick another to serve in your place.”

You're so silent, shaking in his arms. It hurts Thor in a way he’s not felt since his father banished him. What if he's finally gone too far? What if this is the thing that pushes you away from him?

It scares him more than the thought of Thanos returning once more.

“A trial,” you said softly, as you raise your head.

“Pardon?” Thor asked.

“Until the end of the year, I will serve for a trial period. But if at the end of that time, I still don’t want to do it, then you must replace me, without any reservations.”

“Of course, of course. Are you absolutely sure?”

“No,” you admit. “But I am willing to try. I trust you. I trust you not to force me into anything I can’t handle. I’m humbled that you and your people have accepted me, and are prepared to give me this chance. I know it’s a great honour. So I will try to repay that trust that you have, I will try to serve Asgard, even if it doesn’t come easily to me.”

“No one who seeks power or has it come easily to them should ever be allowed to wield it,” Thor noted, rubbing his nose against yours. “Thank you, my love for agreeing to try this. I will honour your request should you change your mind at any point. I admit, I was scared that I had lost you, that my foolishness had driven you away.”

“You’ll have to do more than that to get rid of me,” you laughed wetly, wiping your face on the back of your hand.

“That’s good news, although I hope never to test that theory,” Thor told you, relieved. “Do you wish to return to the hall? I’m sure you could persuade me to have some more wine and sweet treats. As you can see, I am not quite at capacity,” Thor teased, moving your hands under his tunic to touch his taut tummy.

“I think I would like to head home. I’m emotionally exhausted and I just want to faceplant into your tummy and go to sleep.”

“Also an excellent plan,” Thor admitted, standing up with your still in his arms.

“I’m not too tired to walk,” you tried to insist, looking down at your bemused dogs as they trailed alongside the gentle giant carrying you.

“I know that, I just wanted to hold onto you some more.”

Thor’s going to be extra affectionate for the next little while, still reeling from the feeling of almost losing you. Now he finally has something to lose again, he’s resolutely determined not to let it happen.