Mjolnir's Song

Chapter Eight: The Lyre

Thor POV

I find myself on the porch more and more often. I acquire winter clothing, furs and puffy coats and even soft but sturdy pants that stand up to the frigid temperatures of Norway. The insulated clothing makes my belly look even rounder, but I find that I don't particularity hate it. The extra softness on my body keeps me warmer than I expected, a welcome benefit. 

Loki flourishes in the cold weather, their face lighting up in the snow. Evy comes out, giggling and making snow angels, throwing snowballs at me and then crying in guilt. After I give them a big squeeze, they are back to happily playing. 

I sit on the porch after a half hour of playing, feeling exhausted, wondering when I became so out of shape. I should be throwing Stormbreaker...building an igloo with Evy and Miek and Korg and Brunne...but I am just so tired. 

Korg eventually joins me, as does Evy and the rest of them. Brunne has a soft smile on her face as Evy giggles and squeals, playing with blocks on the wooden deck. I've seen a surprisingly sweet side of her around the younger headmate of Loki's, a very stark contrast to the woman who coldly drank her booze as I was tased. 

I drink a warmed lemon 'toddy', also eating warm cookies that Korg made out of boredom. It occurs to me that I've eaten the most out of anyone else, and I begin to feel shame. I am about to put my last cookie back when Brunne pushes it back onto my plate. "Eat it, Thor. Korg made an extra tray just for you, it's perfectly okay."

I bite my lip. "That's the problem, though."

Korg frowns. "I'm sorry, I won't make so many next time."

I shake my head. "No...it's not you. I just...I don't know why I eat so much."

Evy looks up from knocking over the blocks, green eyes wide. "You hungwy, you eat, bwothew."

I smile a little, and then sigh as I see how chubby I truly look in my winter clothes compared to the rest of them. For one moment, I wonder what it would be like to have Brunnhilde's body; small and thin, still muscular, not a tall and beefy man like me. 

Something stings, and I think and think until I realize...

"I hate being a man." 

I say it so quietly that I am not sure it even left the cacophony of words bouncing around my skull. 

"What was that, bro?" Korg says with his mouth full. 

I repeat myself, louder. "I...I hate being a man."

Brunnhilde looks curious. "How do you mean?"

Picking at the mittens on my hands, I eat the last cookie. "I...I don't know. I don't actually mind humans in Midgard telling me I look like a woman because of my long hair. I...I don't think I want to be King. I constantly dreamed of being a Queen but ignored it. I thought maybe...maybe it was early mind sickness. But I've been thinking...and looking in the mirror a lot..."

"You wish to be a woman, don't you?"

I frown, and shake my head. "Yes. No? I...I don't know!"

I angrily slap my chest. She gently touches my arm, and I calm down, slapping my thighs, getting up to pace around. When that takes too much energy and wears me out, I sit back down. When did I become....this?

Sighing, I shake my head. "I'm so tired now."

"You're not just tired, Thor. You're exhausted. And you're recovering." Brunnhilde says sympathetically. 

"There he is! Come on, man, you need to get out of here."

...what? 

I look around in confusion, and then it becomes horror as I realize I'm in a bar. My vision spins. I'm so clearly drunk. 

Korg lets me lean on him. There's a tightness in my stomach, and then I'm landing on the sofa at home. Home, home, home. I don't know where I've been...but I miss home so much. 

"...did he get there? He doesn't know where the spoons even go!"

"Heimdall said he was wandering around before he found the bar..."

I hold onto my blanket, tears in my eyes. "I'm drunk."

Loki sighs sadly. "Yep."

I wobble. "You...you hate me?"

Their eyes tear. "No. No, Thor. Let's just get you to bed."

I'm helped to bed, still clinging onto my blanket. Korg pulls the covers over me, and I feel myself falling asleep. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I leave bed at 1pm the next day. 

My head is so fuzzy, and I feel a crushing, overwhelming weight on my heart. I don't move from the couch, only to get snacks and eat the rest of the cookies that Korg accidentally let go stale. I dunk them in milk, not even caring. 

I go through half of the non alcoholic beer and the Caprisuns, and the taste of the non alcoholic drink soothes my cravings. 

Hours later, the withdrawals hit again. But this time, I am prepared and so are Loki and Korg. When I feel myself drop over the edge and I'm curled in a tense, angry, paranoid ball because the medicine cupboard is locked, Korg begins whistling. At first I'm annoyed, but then Korg makes a sound akin to a flute, right from his lips. I'm so amazed that I momentarily forget the fact I'm shaking and slapping my chest. 

When the shaking finally subsides, I feel strange and I feel so unsafe without my blanket wrapped around me. Evy watches cartoons, and I watch with them, starting to feel small and young again. 

My suspicions are proven right when Grey comes out, and she gives me a pillow to hug. I clutch it to my chest, and I feel my mind get even smaller. She smiles and pulls the blankets more snug around me. 

I must doze off, because I wake up to a show called Scooby-Doo. Korg seems to greatly enjoy it, laughing and chomping on popcorn. He offers me some, and I shake my head. "Are you okay, bro?"

I timidly answer, "Uh-huh."

He pats my shoulder. "You're just very quiet."

"He's always quiet these days." Loki comments, coming in and elegantly sitting down with berries. 

I hum and slowly close my eyes.