Betrothed - Thor Odinson x Reader

Chapter 9: Bloodshed.

Tove had married your brother a five months before your departure. Vanaheim had been peaceful, then, so your father had allowed the marriage without it being a convenient one. She had been a healer in court for a few years and her tryst with your brother wasn't a secret, as much as he wanted it to be. When it seemed to have ended, both you an Hilde had been surprised. Then, a few weeks later, your father called Bjorn for a meeting in the throne room and he left beaming. That same evening their engagement was announce. Tove's pregnancy hadn't surprised you in the slightest. When she revealed that she was in her seventh month, she smiled sheepishly, while you and Hilde giggled.

"How are you adjusting to court?" she asked, lying on your bed while her chambers were being prepared. She had dragged you out of the training room immediately after you had introduced her to a clearly confused Sif. "It's getting better." you responded, wrapping your hair in a towel before throwing an evening gown over your undergarments. You had to promise her that you'd talk as soon as you finished bathing. The training with Sif had left you damp with sweat and that wasn't any way to welcome a guest. "Tell me about him!" she sat up, massaging her belly. You smiled softly at the action. You had yet to fully realise that your brother was about to become a father, and you an aunt. "He's truly handsome," you started blushing, "and so kind. It took a while to get to know him, but I'm glad it happened."

"You must thank him for me once he comes back." Tove said, while you sat beside her. "What for?" you asked, furrowing your brow. As far as you knew, Odin had granted her request to come visit you. "In the letter Bjorn sent me he wrote that Thor had suggested I came here. I was so lonely, there. I suppose many maids thought they would take my place because they have treated me like dirt under their boots since your brother left." she explained, pouting lightly. You would have never imagined Thor could be so thoughtful. Your insides felt fluttery and a smile fought his way to your lips. You wondered if this was what those books described as falling in love and, if so, you never wished to feel any other way.

On the outskirts of Vanaheim, tensions were rising. After an evening of thorough planning and worried whispers, it almost felt like a natural progression when battle arose. The soldiers were tired and had already retired to their tents once a loud scream pierced through the early summer's air. A battle cry. Thor and Loki shared a pointed look and jumped out of their makeshift beds, the first hastily putting on his armour while the latter, who had summoned his own with seiðr, ran out. Once he was dressed, Thor summoned his hammer and followed his brother. The camp was in disarray, soldiers running towards the east. As his gaze followed them, he discovered a handful of tents had been set on fire. He sprinted in their direction, finally catching a glimpse of the monstrous creatures who had been wrecking havoc. Thor had never seen a Dark Elf before in his life and he immediately wished for this to be the first and last time he did. The tall creatures were mostly covered up by their armours, but some of them had lost pieces in combat, revealing their pale blue and scaly skin. One of them had lost his helmet and now paraded his hollow eyes and curved, slender nose. Their army didn't act as one, every soldier scattered to kill as many enemies as possible. Every single strategy had been useless, Thor realised. Odin and your father had planned for the attack to be organised and strategic, but those creatures didn't seem to be led by a commander, only by their lust for blood. Neither his nor your family members were anywhere in sight. He would have to take charge.

"Follow me!" he boomed and, as if his voice were enchanting, his army stopped engaging the enemy forces and ran towards him. Following his instinct, Thor led the men who had heard him to the centre of the camp, where there was enough space for them to get in position. As he waited for them to reach their places, he shot a look over his shoulder. Two dozens of his men were on the ground, most of them unrecognisable. Some had empty eye sockets, fresh blood pouring out of them and slipping through their lips while screaming in horror. Others and their jaws disjointed, transforming their laments into indiscernible sounds. The luckier ones had their throats slashed, only gurgling for a few moments before resting. Some of the man following him had fallen down and were now being stepped on by the disgusting creatures who ran towards Thor.

The only thought running through his mind was how to save the soldiers who still had hope to get back home. He would not even think of giving up, not when he knew they had homes, families. He thought of Bjorn's wife, of his mother, and his heart clenched in his chest. He wouldn't make an orphan out of Tove's son and he wouldn't make a widow out of her and his mother. They needed him to act, his kingdom needed him to act. Then, your image conjured up in his mind. What would become of you without your father and your brother? How would you react to the loss of his brother, your closest friend? Would you weep for him if he died leading his men? He decided there would never be a day you would be crying because of him until his dying breath. He needed to see you smile, to open your arms to welcome him once he got home. He had never even felt your lips against his, yet. He had chosen to be patient, to take his time with you, but now that he didn't know how much of that time he truly had left, he wished he had been impulsive, to have kissed your lips, your neck, all of your skin, to have held you, made you cry out his name, to have made love to you. The sudden need to do all of those things was what brought him back to reality. He would've felt guilty thinking of such things in other situations, but now that he had found a reason to fight with all his might, he only felt grateful.

"Brother!" he shouted, but didn't wait for him to appear before signalling his men to hold a defensive stance. Him and Loki were as different as they could be, but this is what they'd been trained to do all their lives. They fought together, combining their strengths and weaknesses to become lethal. They were opposites in life so they could complete each other on the battlefield. A few moments after he had been summoned, Loki appeared, floating above his head. The Dark Else had surrounded them and, after they made their move to attack, Loki conjured a wave on energy that brought them to their feet. With a shout from Thor, their men attacked them while they were down and stayed as many as possible, while he threw his hammer to the ones who had gotten up. Loki appeared and disappeared behind the ones left, slashing their throats while they were confused. In a matter of minutes, they had killed each one of the attackers. With a nod towards Loki, now at his side, Thor ran, following the shouts that led him to Bjorn, fighting alone against a hoard of Elves.

Your brother's side was injured as he avoided stepping on his companions' corpses to avoid the blows coming his way. Thor and Loki attacked some of the Elves from behind and distracted the others while allowing Bjorn to catch his breath. Only a few of them were alive when Odin and your father reached them. Despite his age and his exhaustion, your father stabbed the creature closest to Bjorn while Odin immobilised the ones left long enough to allow Loki to conjure up chains to bind them. With ragged breaths, they listened to the silence that now reigned over the camp.

They counted their losses and their enemy's. A third of their men had fallen, while another third was injured. While Loki and Odin tended to them, Thor looked through the dead Elves for their commander, finding nothing. The prisoners had admitted that their leader wasn't there, but he would not send anyone else there.

The war would continue at another time. The battle was won. Now their journey back home could commence.