stopmjolnirtime | Appointments/Voicemail

"My mother would tell us tales- lessons I know them to be now, but at the time they were legends to us. About how even the most lowly of creatures had it's place, had it's purpose, and had even then the right to strive for more." Not the same as a game of naming, but in the garden of his mother names had power as did the act of naming them. He'd never thought much of it; but to hear a little more of Jane's childhood, to hear of her father? Warms him in no small way.

His own boots he keeps on for once the boar is finished he must slide out to cool the embers and cut away great slabs of roast pork- the skin crisp and the meat juicy, for them to share. He cannot cook much but this? This he knows well.

Air thick with the drippings of pork and the warmth of fresh bread, of the flowers that lingered still- it is not so much reminiscent of Asgard's gardens nor New Mexico but something wholly new. Something of theirs to share.

Jane too thought on their location as she looked around again, this time paying closer attention to each detail and wishing she had a camera so she could take photos instead of trying to commit it all to memory. It occurred to her that had they tried to build a life on one of their home planets, they would have met many obstacles. But here, together in a strange land, the setting was perfect. Neither had duties or obligations weighing them down or preventing them from being completely open with one another. And when the stars came out, they would be new ones for the two of them to explore together. All this passed through her mind as she munched on her bread and cheese, and took another sip of water.

"Did you spend a lot of time with your mom when you were growing up?"

"What time I did not spend with her I spent with tutors, or my younger brother." They had spent much of their time learning how to govern, how to rule. Now and then their father had taken time to speak with them. Teach them. Tell them tales of their history, of their people; as they grew older such visits became less and less as the work of protecting the nine realms grew. Then there was the Odinsleep which took him from all of Asgard- He'd learned to cherish what time he had with his father.

He shakes such thoughts from his mind as he cuts a thin slice of the pork for Jane, serving her a plate. There is no sauce for the meat for he has no skill in sauces, but the skin is crisp and the flesh moist.

"Oh yeah, I can just imagine what kind of trouble you and Loki used to get into." She wanted stories and lots of them. Being an only child, she wanted to hear what it was like to have a built-in companion.

She watches as he slices the pig. She can tell that he has done it before and feels confident in his carving skills. With one bite of what he gives her she groans with appreciation. It needed no sauce - brimming with natural juices, the flavor practically explodes on her tongue. There's a smokiness to it as well from being cooked over an open fire. It's as if he took her memories of roasting hot dogs over the fire with her dad, and made it gourmet.

"Oh my god, this is amazing. Can we do this every week?"

"I do not think there is boar enough for that to be viable." But- she's pleased. That's all he would ask. Perhaps on special occasions- and they could have the picnic every week. He could try roasting smaller, more plentiful game if she desires. Which she might. And he'd be happy to share what little he knows of cookery with her.

Oh she's more than pleased. If she weren't so conscious of how she looked in her revealing dress she would have completely pigged out on the cooked pig. At his statement she pouts for a few seconds.

"I suppose if we had it all the time it wouldn't be as special." She took another bite and looked at the baked dish he'd made.

"Remind me what's in the, uh... overexposed casserole?"

"Potatoes and goat cheese. It did not go well." But it wasn't completely burnt. Just- singed? Extra crispy. He reaches over with a fork to lift the burnt crust off- the potatoes and cheese still gooey and baked underneath.

Not a complete failure.

Perhaps next tim I shall leave the baked goods to you, and instead focus upon the roasts."

Underneath the top layer the rest looked fine and smelled even better.

"I think we can just scrape off the top and eat the rest? I bet it's delicious."

Next time. She liked that idea. Also the mental image of them working together to prepare a meal was positively domestic in the best way. It reminded her of the morning after he'd arrived in New Mexico, when he'd helped her make breakfast for Eric and Darcy.

"I don't know if I can do much better, but I'll give it a try."

"I am certain you would manage far better than I. This...I did not manage the proper temperature and I forgot it while it was in the oven."

With some kind of reminder it ought to go well. He'd been preoccupied with the boar. And with finding things Jane would like to drink.

"You did well for a first time. Wait, was it your first time?" Always assuming, she was. She was trying to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"Being a good cook, like all things worth being good at, takes practice. I promise I will always be around and hungry, just so you can get lots of practice." She grinned and touched his cheek softly, then scooped out a healthy portion of the potatoes - from the bottom of the dish.

"So what does mead taste like, exactly? I've never had it before."

"I know how to roast game- that is the extent of my skill in the kitchen." He offers with a somewhat sheepish grin. It wasn't a skill a King and a Warrior needed. Besides. Volstagg ever tended to their hearth while on quests, managing what was and what was not wise to eat while they traveled. He did not do much on his own, did Thor, not in quests.

The Lady Carter, while she was yet here, did speak often of what made a good mate in the Midgardian sense. Tidy, loyal, and domestic seemed to be her suggestions aside from honorable means. He has worked at tidy, Loyalty is as simple as breathing, but cookery? Is not his skilset. Not yet.

"Sweet honey and spices, with a crisp hint of apple."

"Give yourself some credit! You did all of this, not just the pig." She takes a bite of the gooey cheesy potatoes and is happy to find them perfectly cooked and delicious. She nods and points to them with her fork, then gives him a thumbs up.

Jane's ideas of what make a good mate tend to stray far from the traditional. Having grown up with just her father around, they shared the duties around the house and not along the usual gender roles. She didn't care who cooked and who cleaned, as long as the jobs got done. The most important thing to her about Thor, and about being with him, is that she feels safe. She trusts him. She respects him. The rest is just details.

"That sounds delicious. Would you pour me some?"

He pours as requested, a glass for her and a glass for himself, glad for the taste of the familiar. Not that all Midgardian food is so strange but there is much he misses of his home while in this place. The technology is primitive, his skills diminished, his comrades lost. But he has these small shreds of comfort.

He has Jane.

He has an understanding with his younger brother. And that? That is worth all the more. He tucks his arm around Jane's shoulders to drop a kiss to her hair, thoroughly contented.

Her hands occupied with food and drink, she has to set down her glass at his embrace. She leans her head into him and looks up at the affectionate kiss. She feels as close to heaven as she wants to get while still alive.

She scoops up the potatoes again with her fork and holds it up for him solely so that he can keep his arm around her. He deserves to taste his own handiwork. A string of cheese finds its way onto the edge of his bottom lip and she can't resist kissing it off with a grin.

Words have been rendered unnecessary. Everything he needs to know he can see in her eyes and her smile, and feel in the way she snuggles against his side and places small kisses on his cheek and neck between bites of dinner. Only when her plate is empty does she put it down with a contented sigh and pick up her glass of mead. It seemed too sweet to not save for dessert.

"To us," she says and holds up the glass for a toast.

He has not been fed by another since he was but a child, but he leans down all the same as it was mentioned to him as a romantic gesture made by those in a relationship. Tis strange to him but he accepts it in the spirit given, careful not to end with strings of cheese in his beard.

Between the potatoes and the kiss he is most pleased not only with the flavor, but with the company. Dinner is a pleasant and quiet ordeal, filled with soft words and gestures of affection. Kisses are plentiful and that? That leaves his heart light.

Glass to glass he nods his agreement with the toast, sipping the mead lightly.

The mead was delicious and warmed her from the inside out in that way only alcohol can. Her cheeks warmed and she didn't know if it was solely from the drink or perhaps the food or mostly from the constant attention she received from Thor. She relished the feel of his eyes on her face, his arm around her back, his lips against hers.

It grew dark and stars began to twinkle in the sky. Long since finished with her meal she had only to set down her glass out of the way before lying down in their little fort, her head sticking out so the view of the sky was unobstructed. She held out her hand in a silent invitation to join her, by her side, as she hoped he would always be. Dessert, if planned, could wait for later.

He could ask for little more than this. A warm meal, a warm heart, and fine company. Throughout dinner speak and dine and lavish one another with attention- but once the sun sets? He covers what food there is left and stretches out next to her, tapping the gift. With the sun gone she might truly see the stars.

And he did so love Jane when she wondered at the stars.

She grinned and nodded, but stayed lying on her back for the time being.

"I want to show you the constellations I've discovered first." She moved closer and wormed her way under his arm, to lay her head on his shoulder. She scanned the sky for the brightest star, the one she used as her reference point. From there it was a few inches to the left and...

"Do you see that group of stars there?" She pointed. "The four in a wide rectangle, and the small ones just below it? I call that 'the big hammer' because it reminds me of Mjolnir. And if you go just below it and to the right... there's a similar grouping but smaller. That's the small hammer." Just like the big and little dippers at home.

"These are unlike any stars in any realm I have ever seen." But already she has named them. Mapped them. Found order in the chaos of this place and that has him tucking her close with fond affection. So clever his Lady. So quick. To instead sort out the disarray of her mind and make points of reference when given none. This is the mind he has come to love so dearly in so humble a woman.

"I am flattered you thought of me." He has led many in battle in the course of his long life. Many more still in quests and adventures. But to guide a mind seeking knowledge? It warms him in no small way.

"Really?" She had known they weren't the same as Earth's, but to hear they were unlike any of the other realms was disconcerting. That meant they were far beyond any place either of them was familiar with. Truly uncharted territory.

She turned her head and looked at him. Silly man. Of course she thought of him. She thought about him all the time, and especially when looking at the stars, because for years looking at the night sky was the closest she could get to him. She kissed his cheek and went back to pointing at the sky.

"From there, go up and to the right a bit. That cluster there I call the Frida cluster. It reminds me of the beautiful braid of her hair, and I think that lighter spot might be a supernova." Now it was time to pull out the telescope and take a closer look at that spot. It was the first thing she'd thought of up on seeing the gift.

She rolled over onto her stomach and pulled the scope out of the box, setting it up on its tripod. It took her a few minutes to get the focus and aim where she wanted, but when it came into view...

"Incredible," she whispered. Usually you couldn't see this kind of thing without an ultra high-powered scope. "It's a nebula."

"Truly." He Fears they are beyond the sight of even Heimdall now. Otherwise efforts would have been made months ago. Years ago. But there have been no attempts at rescue that any have noticed, only attempts at escape. And now? Now they are all of them lost to this world and it's shifts, it's minders and it's forgotten natives.

It weighs heavily upon an otherwise pleasant evening for him to think of this- his eyes turn back up to the stars to mind Jane's voice. That she named a cluster of stars after his mother's braid warms his heart as much as it causes him to ache. As soon as his brother is settled, they must do something. Frigga cannot be permitted to die.

He wouldn't allow it. Knowing now what he would need, finding a way to remember once he is home? That is of the most import.

"You did not expect this?" He shifts to accommodate her, arm still tucked around her waist to keep her close, keep her warm.

"Not at all. On Earth, nebulae are so distant they can only be seen with a telescope much more powerful than this one." She moved the scope slightly, up to a brightly shining spot at the apex of Frigga's braid. She gasped again, and this time she moved over and insisted that he look for himself.

"It's a planet with at least two moons. Do you see those shadows, the spots moving across it? That's how you can tell."

He has never looked to the stars as anything but a path between realms- but what he has ever taken for granted she looks at with such wonder it is impossible to not feel it as well. Worlds with more than one moon, with more than one sun he has seen many a time- but like this, laid next to her, tucked close and all but breathing in her joy? He feels a wonder in him that he hasn't held since he was a child.

"Remarkable."

She gleans almost as much joy from his reaction as she does from her own experience. She places a soft kiss on his cheek while he is looking through the scope.

"I almost forgot to show you the Odin cluster. It's a really big constellation, complete with his eye patch." It has had several fiery red stars, which she found fitting considering his anger at her presence on Asgard.

"It's at the far left, near the horizon. where he can look over everything else in the sky and keep it in line."

When offered he peers up and- it does resemble his father. Patch, temperament and all. That she saw it so readily and marks it in so few words is remarkable. He maps these stars, their position relative to the hammer she spoke of and the braid of his mother. "What of Darcy? Is there aught you have named of her?"

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