When Thor arrived at Queen Frigga's chambers, she was reading aloud from a book to Clara.
The text was written in Asgardian runes—Clara couldn't read a word of it, so she listened, eyes following the lines she couldn't decipher.
"Hey—am I interrupting?" Thor stepped in cheerfully, setting Mjolnir down on the table. "If you don't mind, I'll join you."
Frigga smiled. "Thor, when I used to read to you, you could never sit still for even a moment."
"I was young back then—always itching to run outside," Thor laughed as he took a seat opposite them. Then he greeted Clara warmly. "Hi, Clara. Settling into Asgard all right?"
"It's wonderful," Clara said earnestly. "This morning Heimdall took me to watch the sunrise—it was spectacular!"
No observation deck on Earth could compare to watching a colossal fireball rise from the horizon.
The star that served as Asgard's "sun" was several times larger than Earth's and far closer. If Asgard's atmosphere weren't so different, the realm would have been scorched to ash long ago.
"Asgard has many wonders Earth doesn't," Thor said proudly. "I'll be free for a while—perfect timing to show you around. When you get back to Earth, you can brag to your father a bit."
Even Thor knew?
Before Clara could ask anything, Odin, the All-Father, entered the room.
"Thor. Is Vanaheim stabilized?"
"Completely," Thor replied. "Nornheim and Ria as well. Had you led the campaign yourself, the war would've ended even sooner."
Odin regarded him with his remaining eye. "You flatter me as though I were bread—spread with honey whenever you need it."
"I didn't mean—" Thor scratched his head, smiling sheepishly. Praise hadn't gone quite as planned.
An open book lay on the table—stories and curiosities of Asgard.
"You enjoy books?" Odin asked Clara.
"Y-yes," she answered quickly.
"Then you may visit the Royal Archives. It contains the collected writings of all Nine Realms."
Odin meant for Clara to remain somewhere safe and quiet—but Thor heard something else entirely.
If Father could show such care to a child from Earth… then perhaps he wasn't so opposed to Earthlings after all. Which meant—Jane—
Lost in romantic hope, Thor failed to consider the difference, in Odin's eyes, between the child of a fallen ally and the lover of a troublesome son.
"The war is won," Odin said. "You should celebrate with your soldiers, not linger here listening to stories."
"Yes, Father. I'll go shortly." Thor turned to Clara. "Would you like to come? The celebration will be lively."
"No, thank you," Clara replied politely. "I prefer quiet places."
Her thoughts were already on the Royal Archives.
-----
As the night sky spread over Asgard, London basked in bright sunshine.
On this perfectly pleasant day, the woman Thor couldn't stop thinking about—Jane Foster—was on a blind date.
Her mother had issued an ultimatum: Bring home a boyfriend, or we're done.
Left with no choice, Jane agreed to dinner with a man introduced by her mother's friend.
The man, Richard, was a patient gentleman. Even after Jane stared at the menu for ten whole minutes without speaking, he showed no irritation.
"Is there something you can't let go of?" Richard asked gently, cutting straight to the point.
"Why do I have to have something?" Jane laughed lightly. "I'm fine."
"For the first ten minutes," he said calmly, "you hid behind the menu. And there are only three set meals."
From mutual friends, Richard knew Jane Foster was driven and accomplished. He'd liked her immediately—and now he was certain she carried a story, much like his own. Both of them, it seemed, had been hurt before.
His easy conversation relaxed Jane, and they spoke freely—bonding over irresponsible exes.
Then Darcy, Jane's intern, burst into the restaurant out of nowhere. She dragged over a chair, grabbed some bread, slathered it with jam, and began eating—while gleefully exposing Jane's secrets.
"I went to the lab—aka your mom's place—fully expecting you to be in pajamas, eating ice cream and thinking about that guy. But no! You showered, put on real clothes, and wow—smells amazing!"
Darcy's unstoppable chatter made Jane mortified.
"You didn't drive all this way just to embarrass me," Jane cut in quickly, before Darcy could reveal anything worse.
And indeed, Darcy hadn't. Jane's old scientific instrument had been going crazy, so Darcy brought it along. Ruining the date was just a bonus.
Jane slammed the device on the table a few times and shoved it back to Darcy. "It's nothing."
"That doesn't look like nothing," Darcy shot back. "It looks like the readings Erik used to obsess over."
She left after that, waiting in the car. After all—if Jane could still focus on a date after that, Darcy would admit defeat.
Sure enough, Jane emerged from the restaurant not long after. Richard, seeing her distraction, kindly canceled the rest of the evening. A truly considerate man.
Then—
A young British man suddenly appeared in the back seat, startling Jane half to death.
"Hello, Dr. Foster! It's an honor to work with you!" he said eagerly.
Ian, Darcy's intern, was a rookie astronomy student. Jane had already made a name for herself in the field, and to him, she was nothing short of a legend.
Darcy drove through London's winding streets—her hometown, every turn familiar. Jane kept calling Dr. Selvig, but no one answered. It was Selvig who'd claimed to have made a discovery, drawing Jane all the way from the U.S.—only to vanish.
At that very moment, over a hundred kilometers southwest of London, at Stonehenge—
Dr. Selvig suddenly stripped naked and sprinted through the ancient stones, waving a scientific instrument wildly.
Since the Battle of New York, Selvig's mind had been… unstable. He'd exhibited odd behavior before—but no one imagined it would escalate to naked sprinting at a world heritage site.
Local police quickly intervened, sending him to a care facility and attributing the incident to dementia.
The news hit television almost immediately.
After New York, Dr. Selvig was already well-known.
Now?
He was about to become famous all over again.
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