Chapter 1. Breathing Space
It was his palace now; this small ramshackle farmhouse. From it, he reigned over New Asgard like the king he was supposed to be. Yet, this king bore the heavy twin burdens of guilt and failure that drove him to overindulge in beer and food, forcing him to pack on the pounds and become the proud owner of a huge belly. In his sleep, nightmares plagued him, causing him to wake up screaming and throwing him into a deep depression.
He was Thor Odinson, no longer the God of Thunder and Lord of the Lightning; but Thor Odinson, God of Gluttony!
Silence hung heavy in the air as he watched her walking about the room. She said not a word, but every once in a while, a tear would fall as she remembered the emotional pain he caused her five years ago. He was just starting to feel his guilt then, and she was offering her friendship and support, only to be driven away. Terrible and ugly things were said, and they hadn’t spoken to each other since. It was her decision to come and see him with the intent to mend fences and, hopefully, to start again. She hoped he felt the same. Weary of walking, she finally sat on the threadbare couch and folded herself up into a ball.
He cautiously approached her, unable to gauge her mood. He carefully sat down beside her and waited for her to speak. She looked balefully at him through one eye, never knowing whether to chew him out or just take him in her arms and forgive him. Heaving a huge sigh, she uncurled herself and got her first full look at him. Gone was the sleek black and silver armour with its red cape and, in its place, he wore an ancient pair of tan plaid pants, a pair of Crocs, a couple of shirts layered one atop the other; all covered by some sort of jacket. His beard was scruffy, and his hair looked as though it hadn’t seen a bottle of shampoo for about a fortnight to a month.
In short, the poor man was a mess. He sat on his end of the couch much as he did on that bench five years ago; big hands folded in front of him and failure written in his eyes. He bowed his great shaggy head and started to sob. That made up her mind. She slid over to him and held him as tightly as she could. He, too, remembered that awful day five years ago, smiling a little as he felt his shoulders being rubbed. He looked at her, wondering how he could hurt her the way he did; returning her embrace.
“Doc Strange told me everything,” she finally said. “I wasn’t your enemy, Thor. You could’ve told me.”
“I know, my lady, but it was all too painful to repeat. The words I said to you were those of a spoiled child who revels in the pain and misery of others. I’ll admit I was surprised he brought you hereafter that,” he explained. “If you wish, you can end our friendship, and we’ll say goodbye here.”
She shook her head as she chuckled at that notion. She leaned her forehead against his.
“If there was one lesson I learned from that first day I met you, that lesson was there’s no getting over you, Thor Odinson. I’m here to give you a second chance and hope that you and I can go further than just being friends?” she told him. “I mean if you’ll have me.”
“ Rossi, you don’t know how much I want that, but look at me! I’m fat. I eat and drink too much. I sit around and play games all day. Surely, you don’t want a mess like me who had failed everyone. Are you sure I’m the one you want?” he asked as she hugged him. “I guess I am the one you want.”
She kissed him and patted his belly. She cared not what he looked like for she wasn’t too svelte herself. She liked men with big soft bellies for it meant they had plenty of padding to squish, and Thor had more than his fair share of squish. He shook his head as he tried to dry his tears. Excusing herself, she headed for the nearest Kleenex box. She returned to his lap, box in hand, and gave him two of its contents. He blew his nose and dried his eyes, looking at her again.
“I...I don’t deserve you, Rossi,” Thor hiccupped. “I don’t deserve the friendship of anyone. I’m a fat failure.”
“You let me be the judge of that? Over these past five years, I’ve grown quite fond of you, my big beautiful Viking. Yes, you did hurt me when you drove me away that first time. Well, my dear boy, you’re not going to do that again,” she told him in no uncertain terms. “You may be fat, but you’re no failure. I read the letter you left behind, and the words I read weren’t those of a spoiled child, but those of a remorseful grown man. That’s the main reason I’m here. It’s time to give Earth back her God of Thunder. It’s time to give me back my God of Thunder.”
“I’m nobody’s God of anything,” Thor sniffled. “In my dreams, I keep seeing my parents and Loki die again and again.”
He smiled sweetly as his again filled with tears. He had forgotten she was always in his corner, much along the lines of Tony Stark. He remembered her anger toward the Avengers for his sake when he thought she had no need. Now, here he was--a mess of a man who feared failure.
“I know how to clean up messes, including messes that walk on two feet,” she said. “When was the last time you had a good bath?”
The big Asgardian shrugged. He had gotten used to his own smell during the time he was in exile. He didn’t think he stunk, but it was obvious she did. She didn’t mean it to be unkind, but showing that she cared a lot for him. He looked at her and shook his shaggy head. She stroked his temple.
“That’s okay. It’s all fine. Now, I’ve brought some nice clean clothes for you,” she said. “Now, let’s get you naked.”
Mischief now twinkled in the ice-blue eyes. Didn’t Viking men have other things to think about besides sex? Oh, yeah, there was also that little thing called war. She paled a little when she saw his partial erection. He stepped into the tub and settled in the water with a contented sigh. She slathered a washcloth with soap and started scrubbing his broad back.
“Ahhh!” he groaned. “Gods, this feels good!”
“Okay, Thor, give me your arse!” she chirped.
He rose on all fours and broke wind. She opened the window to air out the room. When she came back, she found him lying on his back; his huge stomach exposed to the air. She handed him the soap and washcloth and told him to wash his front. He pouted a little but obliged. Again, she saw his cock rising for the simple reasons that the water was still warm, and he was scrubbing it. She pronounced him clean and told him to get out of the tub. She closed the window and told him to stay put as she went to get the shampoo she had also brought with her. He had pulled the plug out of the tub and was drying himself. She turned on the shower; this time to wash his hair. She knew he didn’t like people touching it, but she needed to get it clean; he needed to have it clean. She handed him the bottle and told him to wash it.
In his room, she looked at the mattress on the floor and had a pretty good idea as to why it was there. He was soon with her, and she showed him what she had brought. She had T-shirts big enough to cover his tummy and buttonless trousers that would stretch and caress his stomach. A bear hug awarded her efforts. His old clothes were still wearable but needed washing something fierce. He dried his hair with the towel than let it dry naturally. She next turned to the mattress and considered clean sheets for it. The ones it had on now, well, words couldn’t describe the shape they were in. One thing for sure was that they needed to be changed and, knowing Thor’s penchant to go into town for his meals, she would check out the town to see if there were any linen shops. His room seemed big enough for two people, so she’d build a nest for herself close enough to Thor so he could reach out and touch her during the night. He wouldn’t be alone when he had one of his nightmares again. She suspected that he had no one to comfort him in the past, but he had someone now.
“Let’s get something to eat,” Thor said. “You look tired, Rossi.”
“I feel as though I’ve been ridden hard and put up wet,” she said as she tried to stifle a yawn.
“Would I be pushing it if I asked you if you’d like to have a snooze with me?” Thor asked.
She smiled as thoughts of laying her head down on that great belly for use as a pillow danced in her head.
“No, I don’t think you’d be pushing it,” she replied as she tried to stifle another yawn.
She flopped down on the mattress and watched as the great deity take off his clothes. He soon stood naked before her; his great belly and erection proudly showing themselves.
“WAIT...AM I HEARING YOU RIGHT? YOU NEED HIS HELP? AFTER CASTING HIM ASIDE LIKE AN OLD WHEN HE WAS GOING THROUGH HIS OWN PERSONAL HELL, YOU NEED HIS HELP? FIVE YEARS AGO, NOT A DAMN ONE OF YOU CAME OUT OF YOUR OWN PITY PARTIES TO SHOW HIM ANY SUPPORT OR FRIENDSHIP OR GIVE HIM A SHOULDER TO CRY ON. YOU CALL YOURSELVES HIS FRIENDS, BUT REAL FRIENDS DON’T ACT LIKE YOU ALL DID. HE ONLY SHOVED ME AWAY BECAUSE HE THOUGHT I WAS ONE THE SAME WAVELENGTH YOU GUYS WERE THEN ON. YOU TREATED HIM LIKE YOUR GOLDEN SLAVE OR YOUR GOLDEN LACKEY. THOR SAID IT BEST HIMSELF WHEN HE SAID: ‘NOTHING LASTS FOREVER, NOT EVEN FRIENDSHIP. NOTHING.’ WELL, HE CERTAINLY HIT THE NAIL ON THE HEAD WITH THAT ONE, IF YOU WERE EVER FRIENDS AT ALL. THE ONLY ONE WHO WAS IN HIS CORNER, BESIDES ME, WAS TONY HERE,” she roared at them. “FRIENDS, MY ASS! IF I LOOKED UP ‘FRIEND’ IN THE DICTIONARY, I WOULDN’T SEE YOUR PICTURES BESIDE IT. YOU’RE JUST COVERING YOUR OWN ASSES BECAUSE YOU DIDN’T WIN YOUR LAST BATTLE WITH THANOS.”
“Rossi, we’re protecting Midgard from him,” Thor tried to tell the irate little woman, but she was having none of it.
“THOR IS THE BEST THING TO HAPPEN TO ME SINCE JT. NOW, YOU WANT TO TAKE THAT AWAY FROM ME? WHEN ARE YOU BLOODY LOT GOING TO STOP?” she bellowed; her voice breaking.
She dropped into Thor’s chair. She had had her fill of Stark and his bunch. Cap tried to say something in the Avengers’ defence, but he got one of her deadlier glares. He closed his mouth and stepped back into his spot. He and Thor exchanged looks as she rose from the chair and left for the bedroom, slamming the door behind her.
“Let’s go,” was all Thor could say. He knew trying to reason with her when she was in this mood was night onto impossible.
“She’ll be okay, Thor,” Tony assured him.
“I’m not so sure, Brother Anthony. The last time she was this angry was five years ago,” Thor said. “I know she misses her husband. Now, she fears losing me. I hope she’s here when I get back.”
The Hulk made an attempt but was warded off. He shrugged his big green shoulders and followed his friends out. Stark thwarted all attempts to reason with the Canadian expat and herded them out the door.
“She won’t listen to any of us, so we might as well go,” he said. “Thor, did she say how long she was married to her last husband?”
“Ten years, I think,” the big Asgardian replied. “She told me he was murdered by a group of of people call the New York Mafia.”
Stark cringed. That was one group of people with whom no one should mess. The wounds from his death were still fresh, and Thor was there to help her heal.
“All we can do is get you back to her in one piece, Point Break,” he said quietly.
The minute she was gone, she started to pack. There was a bed and breakfast in town where she could clear her mind and decide on her next moves. Yes, she’d go back to him because she didn’t want to see him drink himself into the ground. He deserved a good long happy life.
Why couldn’t she give that to him? It was for the simple reason that the Avengers kept getting in the way. She could remember when he first came to Midgard as an arrogant spoiled Asgardian prince who thought humans were petty and tiny. Well, a lot of water had gone over the Falls since then, and the prince change his mind. She and her fellow humans welcomed the deity with open arms once he cut out the arrogance and snobbery. He had certainly mellowed during his time here and she, for one, was glad for the change. She now sat in the diner, picking at her food and wondering about her future.
The memory of what he said about being a good man rather than king made her smile. Thor was the polar opposite of his father--a man who, once during his numerous rages, almost beat the young Thor to death. Thor treated the people of Midgard with love, thoughtfulness--words that never were in Odin’s vocabulary. Thor learned that, if you treat people right, they’d treat you right.
Things his father never learned.
She pushed her plate aside and stared out the window, thinking of what her life would be like without the big Asgardian. God only knew that she couldn’t compete with Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. The only solution was now staring her in the face, and that was to give Thor over to the Avengers and just walk away. She spent this long without anyone; hell, what’s a little longer?
“G’day!” a voice said, making her jump. “Food’s usually pretty good here.”
“Mmmm...what?” she asked as she came out of her daydream.
“Kip Hemsworth,” the voice continued. “I was wondering if you’re okay. If ya don’t wanna talk, I’ll understand.”
Tears of relief coursed down her cheeks. Who sent this guy? Sure, he was a stranger, but she desperately needed to talk to someone. Besides, weren’t strangers friends one had yet to meet?
“Rossi Sullivan--hi,” she sniffled as she watched her small hand disappear into his giant paw.
“Mind?” he asked as he pointed to the bench opposite her.
“Park it,” was all she said before going silent.
When she got her first good look at him, her jaw dropped because she couldn’t believe what she was seeing--sandy blond hair, blue eyes that looked right into her soul and, before he sat down, 6′3″ in height. How could three men look so much alike without being related?
“I don’t know where to start,” she said.
“The beginning is always good,” he said.
She sighed as the waitress appeared.
He ordered her a grilled ham and cheese and a cuppa; for himself, steak and eggs and a beer.
She told him everything--how she left North America to become a British citizen and how her husband was murdered by the New York Mafia, cutting her last ties with that continent.
“Sorry, I must be boring you. Here I am prattling on, and you haven’t gotten a word in edgewise, she said.
“No worries,” Kip said, taking a sip from his beer. “So, what do you do in London?”
“I brought my mother’s family home, so to speak. I’m half British blood, and I have my British passport. After the 2012 Games, I started the process of becoming a British citizen. I now have a lovely little flat right above Sherlock Holmes and John Watson,” she said. “I have a job with Madame Tussauds Wax Museum.”
Kip just looked at her when she said that. Weren’t Sherlock Holmes and John Watson fictional characters? She just smiled and assured him that they were just as real as she and him were. She pulled out her tablet and went to Tumblr. There was an article about her solving the Regents Park Zoo murders and putting a huge dent in Holmes’ ego. She also dented his ego when she found the person causing all the trouble with the weather on the Westminster tube. She pulled up a picture of Holmes and Watson and showed it to him. Kip just staring at it, trying to wrap his head around the idea that pair was real.
“So, how long were you and JT married?” Kip asked before taking another bite of steak.
“”We were married fifteen years...,” he voice trailed off and she bowed her head.
‘Hemsworth, you idiot!’ Kip berated himself as he pulled her close.
“I didn’t mean to upset you,” he whispered as he pulled her close.
“It’s okay, Kip. I was just thinking about our life together, and how we were hoping to grow old together.”
“I’ll soon have to go back to Stralia, but how about we travel together to England? I can stay for a few days, and you can show me London and, maybe someday, you can come and see me?” Kip offered cheerfully.
“I’d like that, “ she murmured as she smiled at him through her tears. “So what do you do besides go searching for the perfect wave?”
“I’m a sheep rancher in the Outback,” he replied as he finished the last bit of his steak and eggs. “I’ve got one of the bigger stations.”
“You don’t run it by yourself?” she asked as she swallowed her last bit of tea.
“Nope! It’s usually just Liam and I. Liam’s my youngest brother,” Kip said.
She went white. What were the odds of two men having a brother named Liam?
All Kip knew about Chris was that he was an actor and he played a god.
Kip was constantly smiling, bless his Aussie heart. He was smiling now, and she smiled back.
“Are you alright, Rossi?” he asked now.
She nodded. Sure, she was a bit weary, but fine.
“I was thinking of Thor,” she said.
“Ah, your fella. Now, the truth comes out!” Kip teased.
“May I bring your check?” a voice cut into the conversation.
“I guess there’s no time like the present,” she said before turning the tablet on again.
She tapped the Tumblr icon and found a picture of Chris as he look in Thor: The Dark World. She swallowed once and showed the picture to Kip. Beer flew everywhere, and the rancher started coughing. She put the tablet down and slapped him between the shoulders. He held his hands up in an attempt to get her to stop. He stared at the picture, speechless, for the next few minutes.
‘I’ve come this far. I might as well go all the way,’ she thought.
She found a picture of Chris being his charming goofy Aussie self at a convention.
“Um...Kip?” she said.
“Yeah?” he said. “What have you got there?”
She handed him the tablet, and the poor man went as white as a sheet of paper. She was beginning to suspect that this was the first time he ever slapped eyes on Chris. They headed for the airport. Purchasing their tickets for Heathrow and checking their suitcases, they headed for the lounge to await their flight. She glanced at him and felt the tears come again.
“So you’re leaving him?” Kip asked.
“I’m not leaving him. I’m giving him breathing space so he can get his priorities in order. I left him a letter stating as such because I can’t compete with the Avengers--you know, Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. I’d call them Earth’s Mightiest Homewreckers, but that’s just me. All Tony Stark has to do is snap his fingers, and Thor gallops off like some obedient Golden Retriever. I’ve had it with Tony Stark and his bunch. Five years ago, his so-called friends, the Avengers, never lent him a shoulder to cry on or talk to him about the hell he was going through. That hell was the death of his parents and his brother, Loki, plus his feelings of failure. I called the Avengers out on the carpet, but he went anyway...I’m sorry!”
“Come here, Rossi,” Kip said.
“I’m sorry for dumping this all on you,” she said as she fell into his embrace.
“It’s alright. I asked,” he said as he held her.
She pulled some Kleenexes from pocket as she smiled moistly at him.
He was one of the good ones, this lad.
When she finally got her act together, he held her out at arms’ length.
“Still have feelings for him?” he asked.
“Yeah. There’s just no getting over Thor Odinson,” she said.
I woke up to the news today, and it hit me like a ton of bricks. Goodbye Chadwick Boseman. You touched so many souls. Rest in Peace, King. you are loved. ❤
This is an experiment to see if there really are as few of us as people think.You can also use this to freak out your followers who think you’re 25 or something. Yay!
He’s mellowed a lot through the years he’s been here in Midgard. From an arrogant, holier than thou, spoiled Asgardian prince who felt humans were tiny and petty, he’s come to embrace us humans and has become our guardian, protector and friend. He’s a god in a class all by himself in the fact that he walks among us and, even though he has learned a lot about life in Midgard, he still has a long way to go, and we’ll be with him every step of the way.
You’re right, you got me. Guilty as charged. We stole “Immigrant Song” from you. But guess what? You stole it, too. And as Oscar Wilde once said, “Talent borrows and genius steals.“ So we’re both guilty of the same crime. We would have used your song, but as you said in your song, “This is not the greatest song in the world.” So we moved on. You challenged me to a battle of the jams. I don’t know what that means. I don’t know what a battle of the jams is. I know what jam is. Jam on toast, I love a bit of that. A little Pearl Jam - awesome - and just general jamming. So yeah, let’s do it, whatever. My place or yours, baby.
