fourletterwordsstartingwithl:philosopherking1887:philosopherking1887:shorthairedsif:we believe it, t
fourletterwordsstartingwithl:philosopherking1887:philosopherking1887:shorthairedsif:we believe it, thorThor was almost offended at the idea that Odin would think his sorrow and frustration were for the mortal woman with whom he had spent all of three days – not for the brother, the comrade, the friend he had known for a thousand years, who had died and come back changed.“Do you not spare a thought for him?” Thor asked quietly. He was prepared for Odin to ask whom he meant. Your son, he would answer harshly. Your son, whom you could not bury when he died, so you buried him alive instead. Out of sight, out of mind.But Odin did not ask. “I must ration my thoughts of him, or I would have no thoughts to spare for anything else. Would that I were not a king, so that I might have time enough to be a grieving father.”“I am glad, then, that I am not a king,” Thor replied.“Not yet,” said Odin – a sad, gentle echo of the words he had once spoken in anger. A warning, still. Rein in your heart, he warned. Rule and be ruled neither by rage nor by love.Thor had learned not to be ruled by rage. But if this – his father’s apparent callousness and indifference, the weight of grief he bore secretly and alone – was what it meant not to let oneself be ruled by love, it was a lesson that Thor did not think he wanted to learn.(If you liked that, you may also enjoy reading my other fic, posted as Philosopher_King on AO3.)❤︎❤︎❤︎ -- source link