|he just regrettably forgets to exceed expectation.|
Patience was a virtue.
Or so the saying went.
A virtue that did not much agree with Thor, not by a long shot, if he were to be honest. He scrubbed a hand down his face, eyes bleary in the near dark room, feeling more the school-boy than a scholar, the little yellow desk-lamp making a brave attempt to keep the space lit. It’s a yellow desk-lamp Jane said to him- sounding somewhat sheepish in that peculiar way of hers, that always made Thor feel ridiculously fond of her, it was a manner he would have never associated with a woman so fierce and determined to change the world she lived in- when she, Darcy and Erik helped him move, holding boxes with Midgardian home essentials, cheeks reddened from the brisk walk in the cold. No one steals yellow lamps she added then, abashed and bemused at the same time, as means of explanation. Thor couldn’t help but wonder whether she had been robbed of many lamps. Jane told him that some of her lab partners had sticky fingers, Thor had a strong suspicion Darcy’s were the stickiest.
He sighed, tapping his pencil on the top of the notebook...he might have doodled a little instead of translating runes into equations. Well, maybe for three or four pages. ‘Five, tops’ as they said on Midgard. In all honesty, Thor thought it would have been much simpler of a task when he, cheerfully and with all the bounding enthusiasm he felt whenever given with an opportunity to support his friends, volunteered to help out. Faith Deveraux, and Jane before her, had asked him for some insights into the workings of the Universe and Thor, without a second thought, replied "I’d be more than happy to!”
Your ancestors called it magic...
However, sitting with Jane under starry New Mexico skies and explaining the secrets of the cosmos he knew about, scribbling down galaxies and worlds of the Yggdrasil had been considerably easier (and to tell the truth far more enjoyable) than transcribing Asgardian runes and All-Speak into their Midgardian equivalents. He was no seidrmaster after all, and even despite the fact that even the simplest everyday artefacts from his home could advance earth’s development by centuries if not whole millenia, Thor found himself lacking in adequate terminology. He knew the Asgardian wording of course, he might have not been the most attentive pupil his tutors could have wished for but his parents could scarcely afford to have the Crown Prince walk around grossly uneducated, and had a working knowledge of Aesir technology but writing it down into the convoluted equations that were Jane Foster’s first language with only the barest knowledge of Midgardian sciences under his belt, might have been an instance where Thor bit off more than he could chew. Explaining general concepts and differences in Human-Asgardian perception was something Thor could gladly and easily do, it was like history and he had always loved that and found himself remembering the tales he listened to or read, decades after. It was the only thing that managed to give him any confidence in his learning as he felt he could easily outshone when it came to the delicate inner-workings of magic, often by Loki and sometimes Hogun, though Hogun -bless him- had been too modest to brag about. The art of warfare and weaponry, that was a different story altogether. It was fair enough that they were prodded into disciplines they were both respectively good at, all their many, many differences aside, confidence -and arrogance- came chiefly from skill for both Thor and Loki. Albeit he doubted that Faith or Jane were particularly interested in the power behind Mjolnir. Jane wanted to know what else was out there and how they travelled through the beams of the Bifrost and Thor found himself at a loss for words, for how could he speak plainly about something so complicated. Then again, he also trusted that she would pick up the words that failed him, muttering to herself like she frequently did, her mind a storm.
He needed to clear his head.
New York never slept it seemed, it merely dozed in the small hours, streetlights bright as ever, looking like glowing clouds of vapour in the cold, damp mist. The frost from the night before finally starting to thaw, puddles cracking whenever Thor stepped on them, nestled warm in a winter coat and a hoodie, making him smile. It was good, it felt nice, to be out before the city became a tumult of noise and movement, thrumming with impatience and annoyance and people tried to get from one place to another, busy and frantic with their daily lives. A couple, laughing and evidently in good spirits, tumbled out of a cab and nearly collided with Thor, hasty apologies spilling out of them as Thor grinned back. He followed them with his eyes as they rushed to get out of the cold, wrapped into each other and then...he saw something else. A movement, a glimpse of silver-white hair.