1963-09-19 - Talk of the future
Summary: … in the city steeped in the past. Thor and Crystal talk of Asgard, Attilan, their feelings on the matter, and hopes.
Related: To be added
Theme Song: None
crystal thor 

Once everyone has begun to settle in for the wait, Crystal…Relaxes would be an exaggeration. But it's an unexpected moment to stop and think, when she was prepared to be swept into the fast, deep currents of politics without such a moment. And then, there's the clean, pure air of Asgard. It's a small thing, not one that would likely be noticed on Midgard. But here, away from the pollution and rot that haunts the cities of earth, the elemental seems somehow healthier, her eyes and cheeks brighter as she takes in the fresh, unspoiled air.

Silent as the others engage in their tasks, she moves toward the balcony, settling her elbows on the railing as she looks out over the city. What a strange and beautiful place this is, whatever the dangers may be revealed to be.


Thor has to speak with the others briefly, but when the voices soften to silence, the Thunderer gets his own moment to breathe. Turning about, he catches Crystal's cross to the balcony, her pensive air, and he follows her gaze out before his brow furrows in curiosity. His voice comes from just over her shoulder, soft and low in those rumbled bass tones, "This is Asgard, my Lady. Home to those believed to be gods, goddesses, heroes and villains in the stories of Midgard." Soon after, he takes that last step and stops beside her, his forearms now aiding a lean against the short wall. His glance is cast sideways, blue eyes searching her face of any hint of.. anything.

"My home."


Crystal looks over as he approaches, a small smile curving. She reaches a hand to his forearm, a quiet touch of reassurance. "And a beautiful home it is," she murmurs before she looks back out over the city. "It reminds me of my home, in some ways. Though I begin to think that everything reminds me in some way or another. The fate of an exile, always searching for what's lost."

A quiet look over her shoulder toward Amora, then her smile quirks again as she looks back to Thor. "I know she doubts my motives, but if at least someone can return home because of this, then it will be a success by my accounting. And you?" He isn't the only one searching. Whatever doubts there may be about her feelings, there is concern in her eyes when she meets his gaze. "You seem…unwontedly quiet. Is there anything I can do to help?"


Thor looks down at the hand and lays his hand (paw) over it. His is calloused from martial training, fights.. battles won (and lost), but it's no less gentle and light. He looks up again and follows her gaze out onto the Golden City, and inclines his head before answering, though he doesn't look back. "You will get yours back for your sister and your people. I've promised my aid. Though, if you do become my Queen, this would be your home." Beat. "With all that comes with it." Seeming immortality and god-hood bestowed. "Those that lie beyond the palace walls would become your people." His voice lowers and finally he looks to the side again, "And if you do not agree to be my Queen, still I will help you and your people." And there's that fear.

"Amora doubts everything that she cannot control. It is understandable. She is headstrong, which we all share. She simply shows it in the only way she knows. Her heart is right; she's never been an enemy of Asgard."

It's the question, then, that brings Thor's thoughts to the fore again. That discussion with Fandral.. and the questions he knows Mother will ask, or not ask. He takes a deep breath before letting it go once again. "Before we speak to the All-Father, and I warn you, there is a good chance that he will agree, is your heart in this? He will undoubtedly give you a task to complete to prove your worth to Asgard. You may refuse it. If you do, he will not give his approval. If he does not, I can either return with you to Midgard and continue the suit, or you will be free to follow your heart." A rumbled chuckle sounds in his throat, "The life of a princess not born to the throne is a much easier one at times."


"Oh, so you think," Crystal laughs softly at his last. It's rueful, yes, but there's still a lightness there. However duty may bind her, it would be foolish to think it does so without her allowing it to.

His question, though, meets a more sympathetic look. "Is that why you look so sad?" she asks, gentle, as she reaches a hand for his cheek. "Your highness- Thor. I'm sorry. I try to do what is right, to hide behind protocol, and it isn't fair to you. Thor. No one will make me do anything that I do not choose. My heart…"

She takes a deep breath, letting it out on a sigh. "My heart is wide. If now it rests with Erik, still, that does not mean it is full, with no room for another. I know you have offered your aid, and I know you would not go back on your word. But I would not go back on mine, either. Thor, you need…If I come to- If all of this should come to pass, then all will be well. And if we find we are not suited, then you have the time, the space you need to find what will be better for you. Please, let me give you that." She searches his features, thumb brushing against his cheekbone with a small smile. "Either you win my heart, or you win the time to prove yourself to your father and find your perfect match. You will win, Thor. One way or another."


"There are no plans to marry Loki off to cement relations with another Realm," Thor responds, but there is a great deal of amusement behind his words, however brief. "Though I maintain he looks better in dresses than I do."

Thor looks out to the city beyond before his head drops forward and back to the side once more, his gaze watching her face, her eyes. "You are doing this for you as well as your sister? Answer me this, please. Even though you love another, you would do this." He lowers his head again, and raises a hand to take hers as it scuffs against his cheek and scruff. Held lightly, he turns his head in order to place a kiss on her palm. "Thank you for giving me the chance to win you. I have little to offer," and he actually chuckles at that again. "Other than headaches, a pain in the ass brother, a Father who can be more stubborn than.. anything, and a Mother who holds all this together." And a throne. But doesn't that come with 'headaches'?

"Are you ready for all this? We meet with Father soon."


"You are a good man, Thor. Even if I didn't know it for myself, the loyalty you inspire in your friends would be proof of it. Your father may have his doubts, your brother may be…" Crystal pauses, smirking. "Well. If your brother is not mad and has yet to enslave anyone to his will, then you're ahead of our family. But you will be a good king. Even if you are not by yourself perfect, even if you would make mistakes, you have surrounded yourself with people who are strong in any place you are weak. And more importantly, you listen to them."

She gives his hand a squeeze, drawing it back down to press a kiss against the joint of his thumb. "It would be difficult not to love you, one way or another. I promise you, this is no hardship for me. And should it become one, then I also promise to tell you first." At his question, though, she laughs again. "I am ready for your father. I am given to understand it is your mother I should truly prepare for."


"Not all of them. Not all the time." Thor chuffs a soft laugh and straightens before he turns to face her directly, looking down. "I was more than a little angry at my friends for hiding the news of Loki from me. It is the first time they'd ever done that." There is concern there for his brother, and he reaches to regain her hands, to hold them. "He is not mad. Passing annoyed at times, aye. Frustrated, absolutely. But not mad. Nor has he enslaved anyone, to my knowledge. If he had, I think his pride is such that he would have mentioned it at least once."

He lifts those hands to his lips, and now he's simply got eyes for her. "Promise me you'll tell me first, either way? And I swear that I will do the same." Thor chuckles again, and shakes his head, the laugh sounding with it. "It is always awkward to be the last to know about anything. And the likely people I'd hear it from? I would much rather it be you." Amora. Fandral. Scarlett. LOKI.

"And don't worry about a thing. Mother will love you. She's been waiting for a lady to dote upon. Too many men in the palace for her taste."


"Yes, I have no doubt that some of those people would be all too pleased to rush to bring you bad news before I could deliver it myself," Crystal drawls, amused. "But it will keep us all honest, won't it?" Even in that, she sees the bright side. Her hands in his, she seems to relax a little more, letting the walls of propriety and protocol slip lower. She leans one hip against the balcony, watching him with a small smile.

"Speaking of doting, and speaking of news brought too late, I am afraid I must confess that Amora may have charged a few gowns to your account," she says, glancing down at her attire with a low laugh. "You must let me know how I can repay you. I would have waited, but the hour was short, and…she was at least very right about the state of my wardrobe in comparison to styles here."


Thor can see the tension melting away a little at a time, and this does wonders for his own confidence. Strange that the self-assured Crown Prince can feel the least bit awkward in all this, but he does. It's a careful path he treads; fighting battles, quelling uprisings is so much easier!

He's a little more in that personal space, and when the confession comes, Thor barks a laugh and takes a step out without wishing to drop the contact. "Think nothing of it." And he sounds earnest and genuine. "You look lovely in it. Regal. Every measure a princess. Amora must have looked upon you with envy even when giving you the best advice she could. This is why I believe her heart is in the right place." Raising his hand, the gesture urges something of a 'spin' so he can see the entirety of the gown and how it lies. "And perhaps you can wear such a thing when we declare victory for your Realm and you present yourself once more as its princess."


Crystal steps back far enough to execute a slow spin, the fabric floating around her just a moment longer than it should by any right of gravity. Whether that's due to the elven material or a gentle application of her own powers… "Amora was very kind," she says as she steps back to the balcony, glancing over her shoulder toward the other woman. "I gather that she leads a sometimes lonely life in her own way."

Eyes half-closed, she takes a deep breath of the fresh air from the balcony, letting it out on a sigh. "Asgard and Alfheim are…both beautiful. Everything here is so fresh, so clean. I haven't felt this well since we left Attilan."


Thor smiles again, reaching his eyes as she turns effortlessly, gracefully, allowing the billowing of the gossamer fabric to gently move. He doesn't know if it's by her magic or by the sheer movement, but he's enraptured. It really doesn't matter as it is the whole of her.

As she returns to her spot at the balcony's railings, Thor moves in a little closer, shifting his attention between the princess and the city beyond. "Should you accept me, the Nine Realms are yours. Your movement amongst the worlds will be free and open, as long as you are aware that some visits will be a little more dangerous than others. For as peaceful as Alfheim is, you do not wish to go to Jotunheim, where it is cold and hostile." he reminds gently. "But wherever you go, you will be accorded the honors of Crown Princess, and eventually Queen."


"Mmm, I remember Muspelheim," Crystal laughs low. "For all I can resist flame, still it was a bit much, even for me." Something in what he says, though, catches a moment of her attention, a glimmer of intelligence behind her eyes. "Amora had said that here in Asgard, a woman's worth is measured by her skill in magic. Granted," she smiles crookedly, the corners of her eyes crinkling, "I can see where it would be to her advantage to believe such, skilled as she is. But is it so? And…by what means would you categorize my talents? There is art to them, of a sort. But nothing that compares to what I understand of true magic. Unless it is something that goes deeper."


"Then think ice and snow for Jotunheim," is offered. Thor catches the question, and exhales in a sigh, "Of course she would say that." He's not upset at it; it simply 'is'.

"There are only a few women that can do magic to the point of notice. Mother. Amora.. and the others use it more as a regular part of life. Our healers use it to work with their tools. Our cooks. Our teachers. It simply is. I wouldn't say that one is greater than another. How can you compare the worth of a physician to one of a gardener who uses it to coax sprouts from the ground? It's more the men.. we are a Realm of warriors. Each and every once of us is raised to be able to handle a sword and to fight for Asgard should her king demand it. There are a few women who answer that call, the Vanir." And Sif.

Thor leans to place a kiss upon Crystal's forehead, "Your abilities are yours. Do not be afraid to use them in the course of your life. Mother uses her magic, Amora uses hers." Mind, he hasn't said word ONE about the fact that Loki is a magic wielder and not so much taking on the mantle of looking like a warrior.



"Yes, of course she would," Crystal laughs softly. It seems she isn't surprised or hurt about it, either. It simply…is. "That is a small relief, though. I have learned many things, including how to fight for myself. But magic is not among them. My people are scientists, more than mages. Though I think there is surely a point where the two are hard to tell apart."

She doesn't shy away from his kiss, giving his hand a gentle squeeze in time with it. "Among my people, each contributes according to their gifts. Society is rigid, yes. We may not have much freedom. But it's because we all contribute in the way we are best suited, regardless of gender or birth. To deny one's gifts is…Well. Blasphemous."


Thor laughs softly and leans his forehead against the top of her head, his voice a whisper, "My best advice. Don't spar with Sif." He's teasing, his tones are light. "But if you wish to fight with your abilities, that is something you can speak to Mother about. She is Vanir as well as Queen. She is as deadly with a blade as she is with her magic." Something that can also be said about his brother, but he does not. "In fact, thousands of years ago, she was in almost the same position you are in right now. Only, well.. with Father."

He lifts his head briefly only to reach for her hands again to bring them to his lips, kissing them. "Our Realms are not that different then." There's a pause before, "Tell me about your sister."


"Thousands of years ago," Crystal echoes, amusement rich in her voice. That, it seems, will always take a little bit of adjustment. The question of her sister brings another small smile, full of genuine affection. "Medusa is a true queen," she says warmly. "She is wise, and brave. And clever. Once when we were all young, Maximus laid out a challenge," she laughs at the memory. "To see who could sneak into the throne room and sit upon the throne. Medusa told us all it was foolish, and that we'd best not take the back stairs past our parents' rooms. Then while we were finding another route, she went exactly that one, telling them just what was going on. They caught us as we were coming into the throne room. But while they were chiding us? Medusa claimed the throne." Her smile deepens into a grin. "The throne may belong to Blackagar by right of birth, but it's by her skill that he'll hold it, without a doubt."


Thor barks a laugh at the echo and lifts her hands again to press them against his lips. "Yes, thousands. And that will be your right too. Growing old with me, instead of ahead of me." He's not going to get into how many years he has; as far as Asgard is concerned, he's still young and impulsive. (Will that every be grown out of? Probably not..)

"I ask for purely selfish reasons," is rumbled. "I fear I may not have made a good impression upon her and would hear from you as to the possibility that she would allow the suit." It is something that he is concerned with. "Is she disposed to being generous?"


Crystal's brows rise when he speaks of growing old with him, surprise clear in her features. Still, she doesn't ask after that. That…is a complication she's yet to decide how she feels about. Instead, she looks to his other question, rueful.

"Forgiving and generous are…perhaps not her best gifts," she answers honestly. "Medusa is proud, and protective of us. All of us. She will want to be seen as an equal people, not as some savages. And in all honesty, her concern is also for me. My sister would not see me unhappy. And, too, she will look for the greatest advantage. She never sees to one thing when she can see to two."


There is that sinking feeling in his chest as he stands there; he's almost certain of the All-Father's response.

"Father would approve of you. You are a Princess in your own right. You have abilities, and you are not -from- Midgard." Beyond that, his son stands to lose his heart, but that's never been a consideration to the All-Father. "You would do Asgard an honour to step up, even if he never says such a thing."

Though now, there's doubt in those blue eyes. Particularly knowing what he does know. "She will go for what makes you happiest. I saw her as she watched me. She also watched you." He doesn't know and certainly couldn't have known what happened and who had happened by after his departure. "Unless you convince her, this may be all in vain. She would have my aid without having to give her sister away."


"Leave my sister to me." Crystal has no doubts, it seems, squeezing his hands as she watches that uncertainty creep into his eyes. "We may have been apart for years, but I know her well. She watches everyone like that, for one," she laughs low. "She learned from her time with Blackagar. His gifts leave him unable to speak, and so she grew practiced in reading him in other ways. But, too…"

She trails off, glancing away for a moment, uncertain of if it's hers to share. "I think she harbors some doubt about her own arrangements. It's been years, and being Blackagar's wife and queen was never to be an easy thing. I think she wonders if it's something she should do, and if she can't spare herself, then she would spare me."


Thor looks relieved and not a little bit thankful. "It is you that needs convincing her. I could promise the Nine Realms. I could promise that you would be cared for by me and beloved for thousands of years by not only Asgard, but virtually every realm. Midgard would turn you into a goddess, complete with your own stories. They still do that, some of them who still believe in us." He bows his head over her hands, "I could promise Asgard's aid in your battles, but if your heart was not in it, she would turn me down."

There. He's laid more of the 'perks' out.. after a fashion.

He listens intently, watching Crystal and nods. "I could see a difficulty in having to live like that. I just hope she does not think that her fate will be shared by you."


"Thor," Crystal laughs at his promises, drawing his hands closer as she leans in to press a kiss to the line of his jaw. "You could promise the sun and the moon and the stars themselves, and still it would mean nothing. I don't want your realm. I have no need to become a goddess. Being a princess is burden enough, thank you, I can only imagine the pressures that come with being a goddess," she winks.

"I want love. I want adventure. I want the excitement that makes my heart stop, the rush of flying into something and trusting that either I will succeed, or it will be worth trying. I want my people to be safe, but my people…That phrase means so much more now than it ever did. Inhumans, yes. But the mutants too. The humans. I want so much more than just to live, to have a throne."


A rumble sounds from deep in Thor's throat, and he leans down to press a light kiss against her lips.. or attempts it. "My best friend is Sif. I would not dream of leaving her behind in any fight we may get into, or such. I would not leave my Queen behind either. I am not like my father. Midgard is my favorite of all of them, and a Dr. Strange seems to take insult when I tell him that I offer my protection over her. The mortals there are as much 'mine' as those of Asgard. Father doesn't understand it, but I think Mother does. Your people are mine, and my people will also be yours."


Crystal draws back ever so slightly when he leans in - not enough to avoid the kiss, but only enough to make certain it remains light. Still, despite her caution, there's a warmth to the touch. "You are kind, Thor," she breathes, fingertips brushing against his chest. "And good. Sweet." And the word unspoken as she looks up to meet his eye - simple. Can that be enough? Shouldn't it?

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