And Then I Wrote Marvel

What About My Ears? (Thor x elf!Reader)

You hid among the Midgardians because you didn't want to go back. Returning to Alfheim was out of the question, unless you didn't mind nightmares. It had been a year, but you could remember their faces as clearly as ever, both the attackers and your family.

You blended in fairly well, all things considering. You were taller than the average person, and your ears pointier, but you passed as human.

An inhumanly attractive human, if that made sense.

Everywhere you went, you couldn't help but notice that people stared at you. Some eyes remained fixated on your face, and some lingered on...less desirable places. All the attention was rather new to you; you'd been kind of a runt back in Alfheim. You'd decided that you didn't really like it.

There were many things that you did like about Midgard, one of them being the new natural landmarks that you could explore. Many of them differed so much from the forests of your native realm, and it was nice to be able to go out and find peace without being reminded of what had driven you away in the first place.

It was a blustery day today, but you didn't mind. It wasn't stopping you from sitting atop the tallest rock you could find and meditating. The way that the wind blew your hair around helped your concentration while you sat on your rock. It also distracted people from looking at your ears too much. That was the real giveaway that you weren't of this realm.

The wind distracted you from an approaching intruder. He climbed up to sit behind you, back facing you, and asked you quietly, "Do you mind if I'm here? I can leave if you want."

You were jarred out of your state of peaceful apathy and into the violent real world. That ended your period of meditation. "It's alright," you responded tersely. "I can go." You stood up without looking at him and began to make your way down.

"I didn't mean to make you feel like you had to leave. By all means, the rock is completely yours," he tried to apologize.

You turned to get a good look at this man with a strangely familiar accent, ready to make a comment about how there was no going back, but you recognized those blonde locks and piercing blue eyes on the spot. No. How could he have found you? You had fled from all that, hoping to forget and be forgotten.

Thor, Prince of Asgard.

You ran in the direction of your bicycle. You couldn't afford a car, so a bicycle was the next best option. There was a plus side; riding it had a similar effect to meditating on these rocks.

Elves are usually graceful in everything they do. You usually were able to stick to that, but the wind blew your loose hair into your face, and your tripped on a stone that you couldn't see. You shouted a few choice expletives on your way down.

Footsteps slowed behind you, and ceased. You struggled to get up and keep running, but he stopped you. "Why do you run?" he asked.

"Because I know who you are and why you came here," you retorted. "I would like you to know that I am not interested."

"What are you talking about?" he chuckled, moving to help you to your feet.

You shrank back, screaming, "Don't touch me!"

He flinched, bringing his hands up in surrender. "All right!" he conceded. "Just tell me what you think I'm doing here. I promise, I have no idea who you are."

"You're Thor, heir to the throne of Asgard," you began. "You've likely been sent to take me back home. I'm not going with you, so you can just tell Heimdall to take you right back to your palace."

"Madam, I assure you, I am here of my own accord. I haven't been sent here to retrieve anyone," he tried to convince you. "I just happened to notice your ears, and I was curious as to what an elf is doing on Midgard."

"What about my ears?" you attempted to switch tactics. Maybe playing dumb would work better for an escape plan. You almost reached to tuck some hair behind your ear, but you realized that that would have been extremely stupid; it would have blown whatever cover you were trying to make for yourself.

"Miss, please don't make this any harder than it needs to be," he pleaded. He offered you his hand once again. "Why did you leave Alfheim?"

You begrudgingly took his hand, and hoisted yourself up. "I left because of the war."

"The war is over now, but I'm guessing you knew that. I suppose the real question is why didn't you go back?"

"Because I have nothing left to return to," you said honestly. "Nothing but bad memories."

Thor took your arm and began to walk you back to the parking lot, where your trusty bike was waiting for you. "I can see why you left, and why you've chosen this place to stay, as well. Of all of the places I've seen on Midgard, the Colorado National Monument has been my favorite."

"It's peaceful, and it's by a fairly small town. You're the first person to bother me," you pointed out, just a hint of bitterness in your voice.

"I'm rather glad that I did. I'm sure that you're pleasant to be with once this barrier you've built has been broken," he reparteed.

"Ask any of the remaining elves--I'm not someone you would exactly describe as 'pleasant'. People liked me, but it wasn't because I was overly kind," you hinted.

"That's all right. I know many people like that, and I seem to get along with them well enough," he shrugged.

"If you say so," you said, stopping at your bike.

"Lady..."

"(Y/N)."

"(Y/N). Lady (Y/N), stay in contact with me, will you? I know it is difficult to become accustomed to all of the strange Midgardian traditions, and if you are in need of assistance, I believe that I can provide it," he offered, hitting a series of digits down on a piece of paper. "This number is direct communication to me through what they call a 'cell phone'."

"As soon as I figure out how to use one, and acquire one for myself, I will contact you," you promised. "But for now, good day, Prince Thor." Without a word, you ride your bike away.