Thor x Reader

Six

Lost in thought, you chased up and down in your chamber like a wild animal in a cage.

Your eyebrows furrowed and your forehead wrinkled, you chewed on the nail of your thumb.

There was still this disgusting feeling, as if you had experienced a shock. It stuck to your goose bumps like melted plastic on your fingers and just wouldn't go away.

Again and again you tried to scratch it like a nasty mosquito bite with your fingernails, until traces showed clearly on your skin. It was as if you had lost your mind and now tried to dig through every layer of your body, skin, flesh and finally the bones until nothing was left that kept you in this world.

How much you hated having to face Odin.

This was the first time in decades that he had even acknowledged your existence. And to make matters worse, he had something you might need.

The letters and scrolls Tyr had left you were numerous but there were still a few places where it felt like details were missing. The translations all made sense, you had managed to piece everything together to form a line of events that was clearly related to Ragnarök.

And yet, it wasn't finished. It didn't fell finished.

And if your master had taught you one thing it was that what felt unfinished was unfinished.

Whether you liked it or not, this map was definitely made by your old master.

And what reason did he have to enchant a simple piece of paper if there was nothing to hide?

You knew as well as Odin that it made no sense. Unless there was really something of value.

Now it was only a matter of time before the Allfather would find a way to get the secrets.

But on the other hand, you had to be careful. It would be noticed if the map was suddenly gone. The first suspicion would always fall on you, of course, after all you had been Tyr's protégé.

Odin knew that his options were limited. That could be both an advantage and a disadvantage to you.

The Allfather needed you. Or at least the knowledge the God of War had passed on to you.

You might be able to call in some favours with the promise of deciphering the map for Odin. But you could not forget that this was not a question of trust.

Odin would never leave you alone unattended with one of his most prized possessions. He knew as well as anyone that you were a little more pragmatic than your master had been.

Tyr would never have been expected to steal or duplicate anything for his own advantage. He had always earned everything legitimately or asked for it. And if he had been rejected, he had proven his trustworthiness in order to reach his goal.

You, on the other hand, had already started stealing things that interested you in the first weeks of your training. That's why Heimdall was always very careful in your presence not to let you go behind his back.

He had been red-faced with rage when you had borrowed Gjallarhorn for the first time. He would have called it stealing but you never took anything without the intention of giving it back.

Sometimes practice just didn't work out the way theory did.

You suddenly stood rooted to the spot at the thought.

A deep breath made your chest quiver.

All of a sudden your chamber felt so cold. Almost icy.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, your eyes wandered over the wooden floorboards beneath your bed.

There were many little hiding places under your feet. Tyr must have created them before he disappeared. Perhaps at a certain point he had simply become suspicious and had prepared himself.

Now that he was gone, you were very grateful to his intuition that he had taken precautions. You didn't only use the hollows to hide secret messages from the Allfather.

Sometimes less important objects managed to earn a place under the floor as well.

Directly under the bed, for example, there was a hiding place that was so small that nothing of great value could fit under it.

At least nothing of material value. The sentimental one was debatable.

A cold shiver slowly ran down your spine as you knelt in front of the bed and let your eyes wander through the darkness.

A thin layer of dust covered the floor. It had been a long time since you had used this hiding place.

Admittedly, you had forgotten about it for a very long time. It would have been better to leave it at that.

But for some reason, something drove you to reach out and lift the floorboard far enough to see if everything was still as it should be.

Not many of the sun's rays managed to fall under the bed but one was strong enough to creep right into the gap. Soft golden sparks illuminated the shadows.

Suddenly a warm feeling spread through your chest.

Memories.

But you hesitated.

After all these centuries, why now?

Decades had passed without you thinking about it, so why did you suddenly feel the urge to check if it was still there?

Closing your eyes, you let out a deep breath.

The dust rose into the air.

For a moment it smelled musty. The hint of a cough scratched your throat.

Cursing softly, you reached into the darkness.

Your fingers closed around rough metal.

But instead of cold, it was warm with magic.

You could feel it pulsing in your palm. Regularly it throbbed. Like a heartbeat.

You cursed yourself at the thought.

Quickly you pushed the floorboard back into place and rose.

Your hand was still tightly closed around the small object. So tight that the metal almost dug into your skin.

For a moment you thought about just squeezing harder and smashing it into a thousand pieces.

But it didn't take a breath before it caused a feeling of heaviness in your chest. Everything pulled together.

All of a sudden it felt like a stone was stuck in your throat.

It had not all been bad.

Hesitantly your fingers opened.

A ring of gold appeared.