Chapter 7
“Surely you or I have done something to ensure the wrath of the gods,” Thor hands Rue her chai from across the terminal—a Starbucks has seen plenty of them. He’s smiled plenty of awkward smiles at well meaning baristas and their attempts at being enticing. Rue offers a smile, half lilt of her full baby doll lips.
She plucks the drink from his hand, “Our flight is just delayed. We’re not dying.”
Their conversation has slipped oh so naturally into Asgardian the longer they sit huddled on the floor, people all growing anxious to finally get word that their flight to America will be leaving soon. Most attendants speak in English—tourist season is among them—but the quickest way to garner unwanted attention is to speak in anything but Asgardian. Rue sounds as a native should, with the proper-yet-lived in twist to her sentences. Thor finds it embarrassing that he pauses to think of what to say; his brain buffering weirdly when asked what he’d like to order in his childhood tongue.
Funnily, he’s always the one that sticks out like a sore thumb. He’s all height and bulk compared to her sinewy muscle, yet soft curves. They make a handsome pair, even if they’re dressed for travel. She is comfortably wearing his sweater—the airport is freezing—and his chin sits cutely atop her head.
“Personally, I believe the gods have shunned me a while ago,” Thor jokes, thinking of Sochi. And moreover, his fall from grace. His comeback is off to a labored and annoying start.
“I guess I’ll just take my things and go home, then.” Thor snorts at her reply and she smiles up at him. “Skate America isn’t for a couple more days...we’re fine.”
“I’m just impatient.”
“Really, it’s one of your more amenable qualities,” she quips. In her lap sits a book she’s majorly late to reading. Gone Girl by Gillian Flynn.
“Should I be concerned by your taste in literature?” He asks, smirking.
“I haven’t gotten to the good bits yet—wait...have you read this book?”
He snorts, “I watched the movie. I don’t have time to read.”
She rolls her eyes at him, “Thor...you’ve had all the time in the world for a good book.”
“Touché.” Truly, she’s the only one who’d get away with such a remark.
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Once they arrive, the Windy City is good to them in the week they spend in town so far. They’re staying at the swankiest hotel—the Langham—that Rue has been to in a while. Frigga worked something out and rescued them and Heimdall from a Hyatt, as he said.
(It’s not...close to the Sears Center. But they’re a punctual group, and not worried about the traffic. Both Thor and Rue seem to run on the ol’ early risers sleep cycle and have woken up before 6 every day.)
Thor takes her to some of his favorite places, the art museum, the aquarium—throwing random facts at her. She doesn’t have the heart to tell him that she’s been to the Shell Aquarium at least three times. But they pet stingrays and watch some of the seasonal exhibits. It’s nice to be tourists. They have Chicago dogs while walking the streets, passing by people who are blissfully unaware of who they are. It’s a vast difference from being home. Another day they’ll have deep dish because: who goes to Chicago and doesn’t indulge in some deep dish pizza?
A walk around millennium park, bundled up to keep out the cold, they take pictures to commemorate their first venture to America as partners. Rue makes it a point to pretend she’s flicking the monument—Thor laughs as hard as she’s ever heard from him as he takes the picture.
“You know…” Rue hugs him, cheeks tinted with joy and her smile teasing, “I like the sound of your laugh.”
Thor quirks a brow just as he smirks. “Do you now…”
“I like when you’re happy, not stomping around in your skates…” she teases, because she refuses to be the first one to openly flirt. Their relationship already feels so complicated—as if she somehow has seen too much of him too soon. Logically she knows it’s knowing some of his personal demons—the conference where his shit was laid bare without his permission and she’s been trying to deal with it every since. The skater tries not to feel so guilty.
All she wanted was a window back into competition—scratch his back to get the favor returned; fill a spot for her own career fulfillment. But now she knows just how heavily Odin truly weighs over him—as the loss of any parent would—but it’s been over a year and clearly, Thor hasn’t even broached grief in a healthy way, if the way he had withdrawn was to be taken as an indication.
Despite her initial tentative instincts, she’s actually much more excited for Skate America than she can put into words. Thor’s been trying to relax himself. He buzzes with anxiety, something she wouldn’t assume he can be racked with. It’s new, considering he hasn’t performed in anything that counted towards an Olympic run...in years. It’s their first event worth a damn. It was nice to do an exhibition but she loves competing.
And because of this, they’ve found themselves hoping to win a wager.
Chicago, late Oct.—Skate America.
The trip to the competition has gone relatively smoothly—save for the delay way back in Asgard. Loki and Sif are along, as is their coach Hogun Wu. The Japanese-Asgardian is a severe man before he warms to you. And he’s only warmed to about three people. Rue is not among those people. She’d passed up the opportunity to work with him—so he sees it—and chose to stick with Frigga for the last 2 decades. Rue doesn’t regret that choice, but Hogun has been a little prickly since she’d made her choice. But he’s coached Sif for the last 5 years, and was happy to take on the new team, married couple Loki and Sif. Thor is content to ignore the newly minted pair, as they find things to do on their own. He rather enjoys just being in Rue’s company.
Sif has pushed, her smile wide but eyes mischievous. Rue likes the woman well enough, respects her ability on the ice, but they’re not really friends; friendly, but not friends. With 8 years difference in age, Rue finds that while it shouldn’t be enough to show such a marked difference in their maturities...there is nonetheless. There’s a certain air around Thor, Loki, and Sif that Rue has noticed—tension that makes her take in every interaction. Sif looks at her with something akin to what Rue can only call jealousy. The only reason the mood has lifted is because the married pair have been called to the ice.
“How do you think they’ll fair?” Rue asks Thor. She looks up at him as she folds her fingers together at the crook of his elbow. He’s been watching Loki and Sif on the ice with the rest of their group. There’s a mix of contenders and those who are simply competing to progress; the Italians, Russians, the Sokovians—winners of the last competition.
“The Twins are the favorites,” Thor shrugs, “We’re all Just skating to beat them it seems.”
The Sokovian siblings are skating monsters with many labeling them even now, with a year and a half to go before Pyeongchang.
“We can take em.” Rue says. He holds her hands in his casually, taking his eyes off their competition to simply stare at her.
“We’ve got this,” he says.
“Don’t let me fall, huh.” She teases.
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
Their group is called to warm up for the final time. They line up with the other teams near the entrance of the smoothed over ice. They wave at the adoring crowd as they’re announced and then it’s all seriousness.
Thor and Rue skate together idly, not putting too much pressure on themselves—they’ve done the skills, and they’ve landed them. They don’t want to get too obsessed. But his brother and Sif seen content to show off a little. She smirks over at them and Thor resists the urge to roll his eyes.
“What have you done to her?” Rue asks, her tone light and teasing. She doesn’t like to say she dislikes anyone...but she dislikes that woman. They’re skating backwards along the edge before doing a half turn and facing forwards again. He thoughtlessly pulls her in to sit on his knee. She smiles at him and he winks at her. It’s a moment media outlets will replay.
“Who?” He asks knowingly, playfully lifting her into a Star pose only he could manage to make look so easy.
“Smooth, Borsen.”
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They’re in 5th after their short program. They received a respectable score.
Rue feels the tension of losing gnawing at her insides. It’s always been a big—yet internal—flaw. She hates to lose. She’s been around a long time, she’s touched Olympic gold. But she can’t get into her own head at a time like this. And Thor…her larger than life partner seems cool as a cucumber. He’s spent the last few performances laughing with Loki.
“Isn’t it irritating?” She jumps at the sound of Sif’s voice. “How relaxed they are. While we...we think of every possible way things could end in disaster?”
“You and Loki are in second place,” Rue laughs dismissively. “I think you can relax a little bit.”
“You’re right,” Sif shrugs. “Fifth isn’t the end of the world either, I suppose. Though the competitions only get more important from here on out, and opponents more seasoned.” The condescension is hard to miss.
Rue narrows her eyes. “Then...I suppose this will be your best finish.”
Sif scoffs.
“Ladies,” Heimdall cuts in, “Rue, go wrangle your partner, you’ll be on the ice soon.”
The veteran huffs. She knows she shouldn’t allow such pests to annoy her, and yet...Sif annoys her. She’s usually well liked, or rather, she hasn’t cared to avoid conflict in the past. But now, in her return she finds herself wanting to do everything in her power to make sure the focus is still on the fact that she’s one hell of a talented figure skater. It’s absolutely grating that Sif doesn’t seem to care.
“Sister,” Loki greets. And Thor mushes his face away.
“What?” She asks with a snort.
“Nevermind him,” Thor all but begs, putting his body between them as he holds his hands over his brother’s mouth to muffle whatever he’s trying to say. Rue laughs and rolls her eyes, but her cheeks are burning.
“We’re on next.”
The following moments go by in a blur. She feels weightless when she closes her eyes and finally glides on the ice for the final time that night.
Upon the start of their music, she hums along. They are all graceful limbs and strong strides. They flow around one another like water. Thor is a firm presence cradling her confident daintiness that leaves very little to be desired. She is radiant. As they dance around one another, his hands feel like they’re everywhere on her—her skin flushes with a blush, and she will happily blame it on the cold.
Thor lifts her with ease. But their timing together is still shaky after certain lifts(according to Heimdall), as it isn’t long before their having to glance at one another more than they do in practice. A sequence of twists is more than enough to point it out, as she lands a few seconds before him after otherwise perfect triple lutz from them both. A moment later, a sequence of two triple toe loops followed by a double loop—hard, not impossible.
Thor clips her with a hand once they join in close quarters, a pair spin that nearly disintegrates. “ Sorry,” Thor whispers. But she can only offer a soft smile. There’s no time for apologizing; they still have hard passes to get through.
Their jumps and twists are solid, however. As they both rely heavily on skills in those areas. She’d mastered grace early. But she shines brightly in her technicality. Thor may lack in the same area but he could probably jump circles around her if he felt the need to show off. As they round the entire rink, Heimdall smiles as they land their triple salchow, triple loop lands solidly.
Thor reaches for her and they go directly into a lift. Her legs are extended while she balances her weight through the sturdy connection of their hands. She smiles down at him before he tosses her up and catches her once she twists back into his arms.
He is near dizziness from all the spinning but is exhilarated. Back on her on skates, they twirl and create patterns in the ice. She’s enjoying herself again after a spotty start. He’s close, and holding her firmly. She can feel his warmth on her face, her cheeks hurt from smiling at him so much. He beams back. Jumps always leave her giddy.
You and I, You and I.
We’re like Diamonds in the sky.
The middle and even the ending of their skate relies on his strength and ability to catch and hold her. With their triple twist lift so late, it makes the catch trickier. Rue flies easily, her lines near flawless.
Thor gathers near her. Beginning with a lift, her hands supporting herself at his hips and his hands behind her back, they spin together before she settles back on her feet into the layback. His momentum controls the spin, and they come to a stop just as the last lines of Diamonds fades into the cheers of the audience. It feels like it’s over far too soon.