Part Two-

Night fell across the room. Silence grew louder, Thor's ears ringing as they adjusted. Days began to shorten. Life wasn't worth living.

The outskirts of Asgard started to become colder by day and damp by night. It was the time of year where leaves abandoned their branches for people to step upon.

Thor looked out of his window from the comfort of his bed. The cold air unsettled him as it climbed its way into the room. The curtains blew back and forth. Leaves fought to break through the gap of the open window before settling onto the floor.

He briefly considered standing up to close it, but the benefit wouldn't be worth the strain. He just wanted to lie down and fall asleep. But it's never that easy - not when your mind can't stop whirling with thoughts, so many that it becomes impossible to even close your eyes.

The voices grew louder. He couldn't ignore it. At night when all is quiet, the only thing his ears could hear was the breeze and his heart thudding under his skin.

Thor kept his eyes open. He couldn't see anything. He curled himself into a foetal position as the covers slowly slid off the bed. He stared out into oblivion, the whispers and echoes continuously speaking to him.

He felt dull. Empty. Forgotten. Nothing seemed to add up anymore. Things had changed, for reasons which Thor had yet to understand.

Almost a year passed. October was the current month. The same month in which she died.

Almost a year passed. The same month of the attack on Asgard.

Odin had limited the number of guards patrolling the grounds. To Thor, they reminded him of Jane. A constant reminder of her death.

No one looked at him the way they used to. He liked it that way, allowing him to have his own privacy when he wanted it. No one bothered him or argued.

Everyone was aware of their safety in Asgard. What was once a kingdom of beauty and peace turned into a kingdom of sorrow and pain. The people continue through their day with a weary eye, but nothing was as it used to be. The sun no longer shone.

Rumours were heard of another attack. But eventually they die away. Odin kept a strict profile of the happenings in every realm.

As a King, Odin prepared for worst-case scenarios. He kept a close eye out, fearing for another attack. But Asgard's forces were becoming stronger. Every realm knew it.

Defences had been upheld and safety procedures in place, with enough warriors to fight a thousand wars. Thor however, felt like fighting and avenging, rather than hiding behind a shield of guilt wrapped around their kingdom.

He spent the majority of his time alone, avoiding others. Ever since Jane, he kept himself private. Spending time alone was what he was known for.

The people had noticed a change in Thor's behaviour, which is why no one dared approach him.

Since her death, he had neglected any form of emotion. He didn't show or reveal it in any circumstance. He thought it was weak. All emotions were. To him they were.

Thor became so distant from normality that he lost his way. Rumours spread that the Frost Giants killed Thor, removed all the humanity inside of him and left the empty shell of his body standing.

Whenever Thor dined with his family, it never turned out as planned. Their time together used to be fun and enjoyable, but now there are no words spoken. If there were, then it was about work and training, duties and expectations. It always caused a row.

Once a week, every Thursday, Thor would take the day off and go to the tree to be with Jane. He would sit on the bench and look out at the green. He would talk to her. Say his worries, feelings, emotions. To Jane, he would reveal everything to her and no one else. Thor would recite his words, saying how much he missed her and wanted her back.

Every time, Thor remembered what Jane said, that she will always be with him. However, he hadn't felt her presence since the day after she died.

At first it never bothered him, but after a few months he began to feel lonely and unwanted. He always listened out to a response whenever he spoke to her, and always listened out for a sign, or something, when he passed through his day-to-day life. But he heard nothing.

The next morning, Thor woke up from a restless sleep. His body lifted from his bed after having jumped from fright. He took deep breaths in and out, his eyes familiarising themselves with his surroundings. He sat up and leaned against the bed board, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. Thor looked around his room to make sure he was alone. Still panting, he lowered his hand and slipped back down into his bed, staring up at the ceiling.

Eventually his heart rate lowered. Sweat clung to the bed sheets. He settled down for a moment, closing his eyes, thinking of the same dream he'd had over and over again, forever haunting him. Every night he regretted closing his eyes, only to be reminded by the same dream.

Thor woke up depressed that morning. He reopened his eyes and gradually lifted himself up. He looked ahead of him in the mirror, observing his tired, drained appearance. Unsatisfied, he pulled himself up off his bed and headed towards the bathroom to do his usual morning routine.

On entering the bathroom, beams of light flickered on at his presence. He walked in and headed to a bowl filled with water to bathe himself. When he was clean, he changed into a pair of trousers, leaving his chest bare. He walked towards the mirror and observed what he was wearing.

In his reflection, he saw a man who cared not what others thought of him. His hair was finely cut just above shoulder length. His face was broad, eyes dull and lifeless, his lips thin and pale, while his chest was toned and masculine, with arms strong enough to lift a thousand cars.

Thor looked away from the mirror, not impressed by what he saw.

He came across a dressing table with a variety of perfumes. Tucked in the corner lay a photo of a brunette woman, smiling profusely at the camera. Thor's eyes started to water. He reached out his hand and stroked the outline of her face.

He withdrew his hand, dropping it to his side. For a few moments he continued looking at the picture, then reluctantly turned away and headed to the door.