One
‘14 Winter Olympics, Sochi
It’s one of few times in Asgard’s long history at the Winter Olympics, that a man has advanced in Men’s Singles figure skating competition. Not once, but twice , Thor Borsen has made it this far when he hasn’t been meant to. His brother Loki has come close, placing 2nd and subsequently taking silver home himself when Thor was barely qualifying. He’d put the continent on the proverbial map—fielding ridiculous questions like: If Asgard is a continent, how is it also a country? His answer had always been: Like Australia—except cold pretty much all the time .
In Vancouver four years ago, Thor won the gold—the only man skating under the Asgardian flag to ever win a gold medal in the sport. (The older brother has really come into his own as a skater. His musicality has always been something he’s struggled with, but as he’s matured, he’s been able to pack on to his technical score and it provides quite the buffer. In the media, he’s either praised or berated—some call him lazy, and others laud his athleticism.) Here in Sochi, he tries again, sitting above the rest as the top qualifier and 2013 world champion. There have been attempts, but he stands out with his fearless attack when he skates, his programs packed with jumps competitors always seem to try and either fail entirely or execute with sloppy, nearly scary technique. He is still only one of few men to tackle quadruple jumps in international competition. And every time they’re just as exhilarating to land.
This years games have gone off without a hitch for him, from the team event he so happened to anchor without so much as breaking a sweat, to now…his last day of competition with everyone expecting him to win. The gold medal is pretty much claimed, the others vying for the silver and bronze medals. But even someone as confident in their ability the way Thor is, he knows anything can happen. His coach Heimdall Petersen is confident enough, having done so much reassuring it’s set to last an entire lifetime.
But it’s almost as if the last week has gone too well. Even last year, when he’d skated the best short and free skates of his life. But at the end of the day, even with a medal around his neck, he’d still had the mother of all colds, and the most annoying and untimely plantar fasciitis he’d quietly suffered through. (It wasn't his brightest idea, and Heimdall made him promise to never do it again, but Thor was expecting something leading up to this moment.)
“You’re being paranoid,” He mumbles to himself, sitting in the locker room. He’s not too far from the warm up for the night and is taking the next few moments to pull himself together. Only a crazy person sits and waits for something awful to happen. “Just… skate.”
“And please stop talking to yourself, brother,” Loki smiles, inky black hair pushed back. He’s comfortably dressed—for him anyway. His sweater is thick, a scarf keeping out the perpetual chill from the ice. He’s on crutches, a reminder of blowing out his knee during his short the day before. Yesterday, because of his awful skate, Thor added a quad lutz and triple loop to make up the difference for the team event.
“Shouldn’t you be resting?” Thor rolls his eyes as his baby brother laughs.
“And miss your skate? No.” He shakes his head, setting the crutches aside to topple rather ungracefully onto the couch beside his fellow skater. “ Why are you hoping for disaster?”
“I’m not—“
“I can see it written all over your face…and Heimdall knows. Which is why I’m here,” Loki chuckles, watching the journey on his brother’s face. “He and mother say you looked…uncomfortable.”
Thor throws himself backward rather haphazardly before pressing his hands to his face. “I haven’t heard from Jane.”
Loki nearly chokes, guffawing. “You can’t be serious? That’s the problem… right now?”
“She’s my wife,” Thor argues rather lamely, but wirh brows pulled in and a petulant scowl. “And she knows you’ve never liked her—“
“Let’s not act as if I despise the woman.” Loki rolls his clear blue eyes, clicking his tongue at the roof of his mouth, “you know, I really resent the implication….” he gives his brother a weary glance, chuckling through it awkwardly, “I just don’t think…well, she’s not here, is she? And not only did you move to America for her, Middle-of-Nowhere, New Mexico of all places…I don’t think it would have killed her to show up for the biggest moment of your life!”
Thor watches him with a quirked brow, almost wanting to laugh. For someone who so strongly hates it being said he doesn’t like his sibling’s wife, he’s rather… vehement in his own less than gracious defense. “Yeah, well… she knows. And I’ve been here before.”
“Even Father showed up…” Loki makes a face, mouth flattening. He doesn’t hate Jane—at all, if he’s being as clear as can be. He doesn’t know the woman. And that in itself is a shame, considering Thor and Jane have been married for 2 years. And with them going on their 5th year seeing each other on and off, Thor’s entire family is feeling the rift. Odin however, does little to react to it anymore; bottling his dissatisfaction. “She’s a science teacher for chrissake. The fifth grade science fair pales in comparison.”
“That’s not helping your argument here,” Thor says flatly, “but anyways…not every part of my life has—“
“To be about being on the ice—everyone has heard that line, brother. But it’s the fuckin’ Olympics!” Loki draws in an irritated breath, “One would think she hates what you do, with how she actively avoids showing her face. She wasn’t in Vancou—“
Thor internally groans. Four years ago, he and Jane weren’t having the issues they are having now. Four years ago, he hadn’t pushed as much as he does now. The skating world hasn’t ever been as competitive as it is now, and unfortunately, his career comes first. He’d thought she understood that. And he’d hoped, prayed, begged, her to understand it now too. But she’s not here. And it came as a shock to him to find that she’s unhappier than she’s ever been. He just knows it’s time to try and fix whatever is broken between them. “I’m retiring,” Thor mutters, “after this I’m done.”
“What? Are you insane?” Loki asks, eyes bugged. Thor has at least another four years in him—he’s not even 24 yet. “Thor…”
“I’ve decided… I love my wife, and—“ a phone starts to ring, and he realizes it’s his own.
“Heimdall is going to kill you for having that right now,” Loki laughs shaking his head. “No distractions from outside the bubble, remember?”
“Do you mind?” Thor asks, answering the call and holding it to his chest.
Loki huffs and gathers his crutches, “By all means.” As he meanders out of the room he hears his brother greet his wife. He snorts, shaking his head at the coincidence. Maybe he’s unfair in how he talks about his sister-in-law but he thinks it’s total crap that she wouldn’t show support in actually bothering to make the trip. But it’s an argument he’s not going to have now —the day his brother is set to capture his second gold medal of this years games.
He makes his way out into the hall, stepping between their waiting parents and his coach.
“How is he? Nervous?” Their father Odin asks, worry wrinkling the corners of his eyes—patch over his right eye. He’s been making an effort in the last year or so. It’s not lost on the younger son.
“He’s never going to admit to being nervous,” Heimdall chuckles, though he knows his skater is always buzzing with anticipation.
“He is. And if he weren’t… then I’d be worried,” Loki shrugs, stepping between his mother and father. “Jane just called, I think he’ll be fine. You know, that romantic, sappy shit like needing to hear her voice or something.”
Frigga whacks his arm with her clutch.
Just as they prepare to turn and walk away, there’s a loud raging clatter from the locker room again. It grows louder and louder as it sounds as if the room is being torn apart. Security quickly breaks into a run down the hallway. And they come to find, that’s not good.
Present day, Valhalla Skating Club—Nastrond, Asgard.
Brunnhilde “Rue” Siegmund glides through her movements, floating on her skates as she settles back into the feeling of being on the ice. She’s coming back from a torn ACL, and is finally cleared to compete again. She switches from one blade to the next, a permanent smile etched onto her face as she glides and maneuvers around the ice with brackets, choctaws and mohawks.
Nothing compares to this; this feeling.
There’s a slight chill from the ice, but she doesn’t mind it, having been away for longer than she’d wanted. Others suggested retirement, but after a few weeks of struggling worn it, she’s decided that she’s not done yet. Her arabesque is just as lovely as ever, leg straight behind her, arms wide as she propels forward with her eyes closed for a few precious seconds.
When she was a child growing up in here Nastrond, she’d shown natural ability. Frigga had just finished her last season and bought the rundown rink with her husband, Odin. Rue’s mother Émilie was one of the first parents to get their child enrolled with them. It had costed her nearly an arm and a leg, but even now Rue knows her mother would think she's deserves to skate on smoothed ice and not a pond in their backyard.
She’s feeling nostalgic.
Her spins are elegant, never a limb out of place or a line that’s not as beautiful as can be. On the ice is where she’s at home. And rehabbing an injury for almost an entire year? She never wants to do that again. She’s just now getting over the fact that she missed the entire 2015-16 season. Asgard has hosted a handful of national events and she had been forced to miss them.
Rue’s butterfly jump into a camel spin makes her happier than the first time she’d done it years ago. She twirls as fast as she can, body curved in a layback before the spin runs its course and she’s standing upright, arms raised.
“Showing off for the kids?” She hears, a chuckle accompanying the question. Awed children and parents alike stand around watching with smiles as they forget their tasks of getting home for the evening. Rue digs her toe pick into the ice, turning to a stop and coming face to face with her coach and co owner of the gym; Frigga Lindbergh Borsen, an Asgardian who’s regarded as a legend in her own right.
“No, they’re not paying attention to me.”
“You should’ve seen the look on all of their reddened faces when I told them Rue Siegmund was helping me—and them—with their recital.” Frigga laughs, both women making their way off the ice. It won’t be long before the zamboni is out, smoothing the ice over anew. Rue grabs her skate guards, sitting on the nearest bench. “Really, thank you for staying today…”
“It wasn’t a problem, trust me,” Rue smiles easily, pulling her hair tie out of her mass of curly hair, tossing it up again a moment later after combing back some fly-aways. “I want to soak up as much time as I can.”
“I know you’re trying to get back in shape in time for regionals,” Frigga sits beside her, tucking her hands into her lap with a sigh. “And someone like you, a champion—I’d be stupid to tell you that you’re not to compete.”
Rue chuckles, having felt the shift the second it happened. “But you don’t think I should…”
“I want you to do what’s right for you,” Frigga quickly replies. A decorated Olympian—near royal blood running through her veins—from a family of prestige. “But I have something to ask of you…”
“Okay?” Rue sighs, brows pulled inward as she regards her long time coach.
“Thor is looking for a partner,” Frigga explains. “He’s been banned from singles competition.”
“Banned?” Rue asks, chin dropping. Almost disbelieving, she turns away to look at nothing in particular.
She snorts, without meaning to and opens her mouth to apologize but Frigga stops her with a soft lilting of her head. She can’t help thinking that Thor’s recent behavior is that of a child unchecked and unapologetic—used to people getting out of his way because of his name, and the line of revered athletes.
He hasn’t always been that way, she supposes. Before his career had really taken off, he was fairly annoying, bounding around with Loki, the two brothers bothering her class of older girls between lessons. (She was only a few years older, but ignored them rather easily outwardly.)They didn’t interact much now—if at all—considering he’s relocated to the US. She distinctly remembers how closed off he was around the team two years ago—people he’s skated with pretty much his entire life.
Loki is much better at reading a room and acting accordingly—years of experience charming media and friends alike. But there had been one night, she’d drank a little too much and Thor walked her back to the hotel as their group rowdily bounded to the next bar. They’d had light conversation, maybe even a laugh or two over his childhood bowlcut. The memory is fuzzy. But under his big deal aura, there’s what she remembers as little flashes of a dazzling smile and not so smooth talking.
Rue thinks back on the last time she’d even seen the younger man compete. Thor’s more than a promising athlete—a two time Olympic champion, not to mention his countless accomplishments and his placements in the world rankings. Or rather, what once was his high ranking. He should have no problem finding some wide eyed young lady to skate with. Hell, Sif Jansen is also thinking of making the switch to pairs skating. It’s fate, probably. The leggy, raven haired woman is talented if not a little too eager to talk about herself—just as commanding as Thor is and probably used to the kind of attitude Thor has if he’s anything like Loki in a work setting.
But… Sochi is a problem for someone like Sif, who hadn’t qualified along with Rue and Natasha. Rue knows she thinks Thor squandered the opportunity; she’s been told as much by the woman herself.
“What about…” She pauses, unsure of who’s name she even wants to throw our, “Natasha?” She asks instead.
Frigga sighs, “She wants to retire and settle down with her husband in New York.” Natasha Romanova has skated in Asgard for years. Rue doesn’t know the entire story, but it’s not necessarily a secret that Natasha was a trainee under one of the more brutal and secretive camps until she’d had the courage to break away from it when she was still a teen. She receives a certain amount of gentleness from the staff, and Rue has come to understand that they know more than her.
“So you’ve asked,” Rue grumbles, maybe a little bitterly at the prospect of being second choice. She's fishing for excuses to be upset. It’s better than admitting that she’s fine with knowing very little about her coach’s son and what it’s like to work with him.
No one had known at the time until after Thor had gone out and skated the worst program anyone had ever seen from him. She remembers his uncontrolled aggression; failed lutz, disastrous loops, and lazy footwork. He looked like a man whose heart had been broken as the scores were shown. Heimdall and Frigga hadn’t been able to hide their worry and disappointment. And he had been heartbroken. Rue was not prepared for the feeling of pity that washed over her upon hearing he’d learned his wife planned to divorce him, nor that he’d trashed the locker room before then. All of this before a rage filled warm up—rage that had not ebbed before he was set to perform.
Thor had continued to compete though, rather than take time off to get a handle on his personal life. No, he’d been stuck in a never ending spiral, his career and life plummeting into near nothing. He’s losing sponsors, the media coming after him left and right. Though she can’t imagine he’s helping his badboy image—not keeping up with him right now; she knows what she knows from overhearing the gossip walking around the rink. Just last month it was being reported that a shouting match led to fisticuffs with a New York entrepreneur over a parking space.
Come to think of it, being banned doesn’t seem far-fetched.
“You’re a fan favorite coming off a long layoff,” Frigga startles her out of her scattered thoughts.
Rue nods slowly, not feeling much better, “And you think, partnering with me can save face while maybe even generating some good buzz.”
“I think you two could be good together.” Frigga has been coaching enough women in her rink to see good and bad qualities in all of them. But Rue is the only woman she thinks will fit—someone she trusts won’t lose her head under the scrutiny. She just hopes they’ll get on well. “It doesn’t have to be long term. When it’s over, you’ll have the following to back you for your singles return.” Frigga adds. “I don’t think the timing could be any better. But you don’t have to say yes. Just think about it?”
“I will,” Rue swallows thickly. Frigga gives a small but warm smile as she starts to make her way back to her office. “But only for you!” Rue calls out, making her coach actually chuckle.