Word Count: 1,112

Thor had visited Midgard ages before being banished. When he was barely weaned off the milk of his mother Odin All-Father had brought him to the world of mortals. He had walked him from land to land, showing him the disparity of humans and their ilk. From what he could see Thor could only make one conclusion, that the mortals that lived on Midgard were spineless cowards who stabbed kin and shield brother in the back at a moments notice. He was disgusted with them all. The entire race.

He tugged on Odin All-Father's hand after a decade of mortal years, 'My lord Father, must we linger here? This plane is foul, much like Jotunheim I would imagine."

Odin had looked down at him then, and Thor had never felt so insignificant, "Foul? Nay, my son. This world is not, and nor will it ever be foul. You are too quick to judge." A pat on his head made him look away from his father's single eye, shame coloring his cheeks. "This world is only beginning to flourish, when once it was under threat of the Jotun race now it is its own. Midgard will prosper, this I have seen."

"Aye, All-Father." Thor kept his gaze on the ground from there on, walking a step behind his father as they continued their trek across the newly awakened world.

When they finally left a century of mortal years had past and Thor was yet convinced that Midgard was any different then Jotunheim. He had not seen anything to change his mind, no act of courage from any of the worms that inhabited the young world. As if sensing his hesitance to believe in his words Odin stopped Thor a mere step from the light of the Bifrost. "My son, I know that you do not believe me. But I am right, and you shall see this. Mark my words."

Thor had merely nodded, wanting to return to the warmth of his mother and the side of his brother. While he and Odin had traveled an ache had developed in his chest, an ache that he recognized as the pain of missing a loved one. "I mark them, my Lord Father; and I shall take them to heart." His father had smiled down at him then, his one eye warm as he grabbed his shoulder; showing Thor respect far above his station as a child. To have Odin All-Father perform such a gesture, it was unheard of unless the god was talking to one of the other kings that ruled a part of Yggdrasil. Thor had felt so proud then, his heart had weighed nothing as the power of his father's respect carried him high.

Perhaps it was that high that prompted him to sneak off to Midgard not a mortal millennia later; he was taller, stronger, and the mortal world had had enough time to prosper.

Or so he thought.

What greeted Thor was destruction; it was shield brother against shield brother, a war that raged with no clear side. It was a massacre, killing just for the sake of death. It was terrifying to Thor, that such puny creatures could harbor so much chaos within them. He scanned the horizon for a bit of good; a mere speck would of calmed his mind. But no such good existed in his eyes, everywhere he looked blood ran freely and loyalty and honor was thrown aside.

Disgusting. Foul. Odin All-Father had been wrong. So very wrong.

"My Lord Father, I have looked upon Midgard once more, and have yet to see the light that you saw a mortal millennia ago. What is it that you foresaw? What gave you such hope?"

He had not expected an answer to his question, he had never thought that his father was watching over him even in Midgard. But an answer is what he received; a splitting ache in his head as a vision was shoved into his mind. Only becoming clear when a mite more power was exerted by his father.

There was a boy and a girl, two Midgard children. The girl was hesitant, her gaze swinging widely as her legs shook in fear. This one was not brave, but the other. The other stood up straight. He grinned with the spirit of mischief and trickery, his smile showed a glint of kindness. He reached out a hand to the girl, calmly talking to her, brown eyes radiating peace and security. The girl took a delicate step, not seeming to trust the boy, and then it happened.

The ice under her broke. (and why hadn't Thor noticed the ice before? Was his want of evidence of human kindness so overpowering that he forgot his years of training? That he overlooked the basic skill of looking at the terrain? Yes, it was.)

She fell only a centimeter for the boy acted quickly, lightening fast he swung his staff out and caught the girl. Using his weight and natural momentum he switched their places and fell into the water.

Thor held his breath, waiting for the brave little hero to rise, to break through the water. But he never did, the Midgardian boy had given up his life for the girl. He had laid down his life for kin, like a true warrior. This is what his father had seen, these small acts done by the common folk of Midgard. The heroes in making.

As the vision dissipated Thor took a breath and willed his head to stop pounding, when the ache was under control he turned his gaze heaven ward. Sure that his father was still listening, "I concede my Lord Father. I was wrong to doubt your wisdom, Midgard has more than filth. It has warriors in waiting, it has life." Thor knew the moment that his father understood his words, for in that instant the pain in his head left.

The sight of the brown haired boy's sacrifice would stay with Thor for years. It had cemented itself into his brain and refused to be moved, so when he returned to Midgard after beating his brother's army he recognized the white haired lad that drifted in and out of the Man of Iron's home.

For while his appearance had changed his grin had not, it was still filled with mischief and trickery and his softer smile showed an even greater amount of kindness. This was the same boy from years ago, he had been granted a true hero's death. He had been given the means to fight forever, to live in glorious combat, to protect those that could not save themselves.

To be a Guardian.