Note: Sorry for the wait! My computer is down, so I've been doing this from the school library. Ha! Anyway, here's a brief look at what rolls through Thor's mind when he isn't drunk or in battle. Enjoy! xoxo
What he wouldn't give to touch her again. Thor curled his large hands into fists, angry that he would never be able to truly have the woman he loved. Not only were his Princely duties keeping them apart; Jane was human. He would long outlive her, even without her stepping into mortal danger every chance she got.
Desperate to clear his mind, Thor went to the training yards. He took one of the hammers, not his own but good enough, and threw it, striking it against a large target that stood at a seventy foot distance. His throw crumpled the red painted iron and steel like Styrofoam. After a few more shots like this, he felt immensely better, though he worried about repairing the training targets. He brushed off the petty thought and decided to go about the town, maybe stopping for a few pints before making his way back to the Palace.
He met Volstagg and Fandral on his travels, and they seemed to think some ale was in order. At one of the smaller pubs within the city square, Thor ordered a large tankard of the spiced drink, more than twice what Volstagg and Fandral could consume together. The barmaid set it next to the table in a huff, irritated when Volstagg only distractedly handed her a piece of silver for her work.
"Hey there, old friend," Volstagg said, stroking his beard and looking quite worried. "What has been troubling you?"
"Yes!" Fandral said, a laugh edging in his voice. "You can't expect us to carry you home after this!"
Thor refused to make eye contact with them, swirling his overlarge drink with a thick finger.
"Come now," Volstagg tried gently, moving closer to Thor. "We are only but your oldest friends. You make me consider otherwise if you cannot place your confidences in us."
Thor took a large mug and dipped it into the tankard, downing it in one.
"I must confess," he said, rubbing his stubbly golden chin. "I feel as though my heart lies in a place far outside my reach."
"Ah, the girl!" Fandral said, laughing outright this time. "The little human that—ow! What did I—ow!" Fandral moved his seat as far as he could from Volstagg's large feet and menacing glare.
"I share your sympathies, my friend," Volstagg said kindly. "But there is one here that awaits you. One that you can share a long, full life with. One that cares about you more than she'd daresay."
"My heart belongs with Jane," Thor said, weary of the argument that'd been going on since he'd met the human woman. "Sif is my sister and comrade in battle, but I can never see her as more than what she is—a friend. I'm sure she will find someone well suited to her someday."
Fandral sighed, leaning back in his chair and kicking his feet up onto the table top.
"You don't see well, do you brother?" he asked mockingly, ogling a passing maid as she walked by. "She doesn't just fancy you as a lover. She loves you. I reckon she's been dreaming about you since we were children!"
Volstagg sighed, dipping his own mug into the tankard.
"All I'm saying is to consider it."
Thor's head hurt with confusion. He had left Fandral and Volstagg in the training yards, where they were drunkenly sparring. He planned to consult his father, though he knew that he would surely gain the same answer that he'd gotten from his friends. He strode into the Great Hall, only to find it empty. Not that it was unusual, Odin had been spending more and more time in his chambers since Frigga had died. Thor decided against approaching his father in such a private setting, when he knew how much grief the All-Father was carrying.
He sighed, headed back out to town for another tankard.