If He be Worthy [MCU/Thor]

Eight weeks had passed since Thor's confrontation with Loki, and while the God of Thunder maintained his rigorous routine under Odin's watchful eye, those closest to him noticed a shift in his demeanor. Sif and the Warriors Three observed Thor from a distance as he trained, their concern growing with each passing day. They believed he was brooding, lost in thought over the conflict with Loki, and chose to give him space, respecting his need to process the turmoil within. Now, seated in deep meditation, Thor's imposing figure was still, save for the faint glow of the Naudiz rune etched upon his chest. The rune burned with an intensity and a weight that would have proved tortuous to any lesser being. Yet Thor bore its weight without faltering, his expression one of quiet determination. 

Thor's daily regimen was as punishing as ever, a testament to his godly endurance. Each morning, he raced through the streets of Asgard at speeds that blurred the line between mortal and divine, his footsteps shaking the ground beneath him. He sparred with Asgard's finest warriors, his strikes sending shockwaves through the training grounds, yet his mind seemed elsewhere, his focus distant.

His long, unruly hair was pulled back into a warrior's knot, his beard just as untamed, giving him the look of a man who had been forged in the wilds rather than the halls of Asgard. Around him, the air hummed with the soft whispers and admiring laughter of Asgardian maidens, their eyes wide with awe and curiosity. Thor's morning training had turned into something of an event, drawing bigger crowds with each passing day. Dressed only in simple breeches, his muscular frame was on full display, every scar and sinew a testament to years of unyielding discipline. His powerful build and the intense focus that seemed to radiate from him held the attention of everyone who gathered to watch.

There was a time when Thor might have basked in the attention, flashing a grin at the maidens and perhaps even seeking the company of one or two who caught his eye. He would have reveled in their admiration, enjoying the pleasures they offered without a second thought. But those days felt distant now. His mind was weighed down by the threats looming on the horizon, the dangers that demanded he grow stronger, faster, and more resilient. There was no space for distractions, no time for indulgence. Every ounce of his energy was poured into his training, into pushing himself beyond his limits. The future was uncertain, and Thor knew he had to be ready—no matter the cost.

Thor's focus remained inward. He reflected on the untapped potential of his lightning abilities. His clash with Loki had revealed a new possibility: a fleeting burst of lightning that acted as a sensory web, briefly revealing the trickster's location. This sparked an idea, could he refine this power into a subtle, continuous current, imperceptible to all but himself? Such a low-level discharge could serve as an unseen sentinel, extending his awareness far beyond the reach of sight and sound.

The soft clink of armor interrupted his thoughts. A palace guard approached, his steps measured and respectful. Startled from his meditation, Thor turned to the guard, who bowed deeply, his voice a blend of reverence and urgency. "My prince, the queen has awakened." Thor's breath caught in his chest, a surge of relief and anticipation flooding through him. Without a word, he rose to his feet, his heart pounding as he prepared to see her at last.

Frigga had lain in a healing-induced coma since Laufey's attack, her stillness a stark contrast to the vibrant warmth she had always brought to Asgard's halls. For weeks, Thor had missed her counsel, her strength, and the way her presence alone could soothe even the deepest of his troubles. The palace had felt colder without her light, and he had often found himself standing at her chamber door, hoping for a sign of her recovery. Now, as he moved swiftly toward her room throwing on a shirt on the way, he hoped she was feeling well.

As he approached the grand doors, Odin stepped into his path, his one eye piercing and solemn. The All-Father's presence was as commanding as always, yet there was a rare softness in his gaze, a hint of vulnerability that Thor seldom saw.

"Thor," Odin began, his voice low and measured, "before you see her, there is something you must know. I have told Frigga of your discovery of the truths you now know about our past deceptions as your parents." He paused, his expression heavy with the weight of unspoken regrets. "She understands the burden this knowledge has placed upon you, and she wishes to speak with you openly, as she always has." Thor just nodded before moving into the room.

The room was bathed in soft, golden light, and there she was, Frigga, sitting upright in her bed, her face pale but radiant with the same grace and strength that had always defined her. Her eyes met his, and in that moment, Thor felt the weight of the past weeks, the lies, and the battles melt away. She was alive, and for now, that was enough.

"Mother," Thor said softly, crossing the room in long strides to embrace her. Frigga's arms wrapped around him with surprising strength, and for a moment, he was a child again, seeking comfort in her embrace.

"My son," she replied, pulling back to study his face. Her keen eyes took in the changes in him – the bigger muscles, the wild length of his hair and beard, the intense focus that had replaced his old carefree demeanor. "You look... different."

Thor settled into the chair beside her bed, his posture instinctively straightening as it always did in her presence, a quiet acknowledgment of the respect and love he held for her. "Much has changed, Mother," he began, his voice heavy with the weight of what he had seen. "The visions I've seen..." His words trailed off, the enormity of the future pressing down on him like a storm he couldn't outrun.

"Your father told me," Frigga said gently, her voice a soothing balm to his unease. "About Ragnarök. About the fate of our realm. About... mine." Her hand reached for his, her fingers wrapping around his with a reassuring squeeze. "But my son, you cannot carry these burdens alone. I've heard how you've been isolating yourself, spending every moment training, studying, pushing yourself to the edge."

Thor shifted uncomfortably, his broad shoulders tensing. "There's so much to prepare for, Mother. The threats that are coming—they're unlike anything we've faced. I can't afford to be unprepared."

"And you believe you must face them all by yourself?" Frigga's voice carried a hint of motherly reproach, her tone soft but firm. "The Thor I know would never have the patience to sit and study runes all day. That Thor was always so certain his hammer could smash through any problem." Her eyes sparkled with a mix of fondness and gentle teasing.

"Mother," Thor protested, a faint flush creeping into his cheeks, "that was at least hundreds of years ago."

Frigga chuckled softly, but her expression soon grew more serious. She studied him for a moment, her gaze piercing yet tender. "Thor, there's something else on your mind. I can see it in your eyes. What troubles you so deeply?"

Thor hesitated, his jaw tightening as he wrestled with his thoughts. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and tinged with frustration. "Why did you lie to Loki, Mother? Why did you let him believe he was your son by blood, when he was not? And why did you and Father never tell us about Hela? About where Asgard's wealth and power truly came from? All these secrets... they've only brought pain. How could you keep such things from us?"

Frigga's expression softened, but she did not flinch from his questions. She took a deep breath, her hands folding neatly in her lap. "Thor, those decisions were not made lightly. As for Loki... I never lied to him about being my son. He is my son, in every way that matters. Blood does not define family, Thor. Love does. And I loved him—I love him still—as deeply as I love you. But I understand now that keeping his true parentage from him was a mistake. We thought we were protecting him, shielding him from the pain of his origins. Instead, we only made him feel more isolated, more different. For that, I carry regret."

Thor's eyes searched hers, the anger in his voice giving way to confusion. "And Hela? Why were we never told about her? About the darkness in Asgard's past? We grew up believing in the glory of our realm, only to find out it was built on conquest and bloodshed."

Frigga sighed, her gaze drifting to the window, where the golden spires of Asgard gleamed in the sunlight. "Thor, when I met your father, he was a different man than the one who had raised Hela. He had already begun to change, to turn away from the path of conquest and tyranny. But it was not an easy transformation. When we married, he kept that part of his past from me—buried deep, as if it had never happened. I knew nothing of Hela. She was not my daughter, and he never spoke of her. I only knew the man he was trying to become."

She paused, her voice softening as she recalled the early days of their union. "I like to think I helped him find peace. I mellowed him, calmed the bloodlust that once drove him. Together, we built a new Asgard—one of light and wisdom, not of war and fear. But now... now I see that he never truly let go of his past. He hid it from me, from you, from everyone. He thought he could bury it forever, but the truth always finds its way to the surface."

Thor's brow furrowed, his voice tinged with both frustration and understanding. "So he lied to you, too. He let us all believe in a version of Asgard that wasn't real."

Frigga nodded, her expression a mix of sorrow and resolve. "Yes, he did. And while I cannot deny the good he brought to Asgard, nor the love we shared, I cannot forgive him for keeping this from us. He should have trusted me. He should have trusted you. Secrets like these... they fester. They destroy. And now, we must face the consequences of his silence."

Thor stepped closer, his voice steady but heavy with emotion. "We'll face it together, Mother. But you're right—he's not off the hook for this. Not by a long measure."

Frigga's gaze returned to the horizon, her eyes reflecting the golden light of Asgard. "No, he is not. But perhaps, in the end, this truth will force us all to grow. To be better than the lies we were told."

Thor looked at her, his expression a mix of frustration and longing. "I just wish things were simpler. I wish I didn't have to question everything I thought I knew."

Frigga smiled softly, her hand giving his arm a gentle squeeze. "I know, my son. But the truth, no matter how painful, is always better than a comforting lie. And now that you know it, you have the power to shape a better future—for Asgard, and for yourself."

Thor exhaled deeply, some of the tension leaving his body. "I just hope I'm strong enough to carry it, Mother."

Frigga's smile widened, her eyes filled with pride. "You are stronger than you know, Thor. And you do not have to carry it alone. Let your people in. Let your friends in. And let me help you, as I always have."

Thor nodded slowly, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Thank you, Mother. I... I needed to hear that."

Frigga's laughter filled the room, light and melodic, a sound that felt like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. "That's what I'm here for, my son. Always."

Her expression grew more serious, the warmth in her eyes tempered by a thoughtful intensity. "Though I must say, your dedication to learning the runes has surprised many. Even Loki would have—" She stopped herself abruptly, noticing the flicker of pain that crossed Thor's face at the mention of his brother's name. Her voice softened, but she did not shy away from the topic. "I know it's difficult, my son. But you cannot let his absence—or his choices—define your path."

Thor's gaze dropped to his hands, clenched tightly in his lap. "I keep thinking Loki would learn them faster," he admitted quietly, his voice tinged with both frustration and longing. "He always was the clever one. The one who could unravel any mystery, solve any puzzle. I feel like I'm stumbling in the dark, trying to grasp something that comes so naturally to him."

Frigga's lips curved into a knowing smile, her eyes glimmering with the wisdom of centuries. "Ah, but the runes aren't about cleverness, Thor. They're about understanding. And Loki's brilliant mind might actually work against him in this." She leaned forward slightly, her tone gentle but firm. "The runes are not a puzzle to be solved or a weapon to be wielded. They are a reflection of the soul, a language of the heart as much as the mind."

Thor looked up, his brow furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"The runes respond to who we are, not just what we know," Frigga explained, her voice carrying the weight of ancient knowledge. "Your openness, your willingness to change and grow—these qualities serve you well in this pursuit. Loki's brilliance is undeniable, but his refusal to confront his own pain, his own truth, creates a barrier between him and the deeper wisdom of the runes. You, on the other hand, are learning to listen, to feel, to connect. That is why you are making progress, even if it feels slow."

Thor absorbed her words, a flicker of understanding dawning in his eyes. But Frigga wasn't finished. She reached out, placing a hand on his arm, her touch grounding him. "However, you mustn't let your fear of the future isolate you from your people. A king needs more than just power and knowledge; he needs connection, community, love. You cannot protect Asgard from Ragnarök alone, no matter how strong you become. And you cannot lead if you shut yourself away from those who would stand beside you."

Thor stood abruptly, pacing the room with restless energy. "How can I think of such things when I've seen our realm burn? When I know what's coming? "

Frigga's expression softened, her gaze following him as he moved. "All the more reason to embrace life, my son," she insisted gently. "The strongest warriors I know are those who fight not just for duty, but for love. For family. For their people." She paused, her tone shifting to one of gentle reproach. "But tell me, have you even told your friends of what you know? Do they know of your visions, or are you determined to be such a martyr that only you shall carry this pain?"

Thor stopped pacing, his shoulders tensing. "They don't need to know," he said quietly, his voice heavy with the weight of his burden. "Why should I burden them with what I've seen? They have their own duties, their own lives to live."

Frigga's lips pressed into a thin line, her tone firm but not unkind. "They have stood by you through every battle, every trial. Do you truly believe they would turn away from you now? Or do you think so little of their loyalty that you would shut them out?"

Thor shifted uncomfortably, his shoulders tensing. "It's not that I doubt their loyalty, Mother. It's that... I don't want them to carry this weight. I don't want them to live with the knowledge of what's coming. It's my burden to bear, not theirs."

Frigga leaned forward, her gaze piercing. "And yet, by keeping this to yourself, you rob them of the chance to stand beside you, to fight alongside you as they always have. You think you're protecting them, but you're only isolating yourself. A king cannot lead alone, Thor. A king needs his people—his friends, his family—just as much as they need him."

Thor exhaled deeply, some of the tension leaving his body. "You make it sound so simple."

Frigga smiled warmly, her hand giving his arm a reassuring squeeze. "It is not simple, my son. But it is necessary. And when you are ready, you will know what to do." She paused, her eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. "Now, on a lighter note... when am I going to get a grandbaby? Your constant training has half the maidens in Asgard swooning. Would it kill you to at least acknowledge their existence?"

"Mother!" Thor's scandalized tone made her laugh, the sound light and melodic, a rare moment of levity in the heavy conversation.

"I'm just saying, a little balance wouldn't hurt," she teased, her eyes sparkling. "Being prepared doesn't mean you have to stop living. And I would very much like to bounce a little one on my knee before Ragnarök comes crashing down on us."

Thor groaned, running a hand over his face. "You're impossible, you know that?"

Frigga's smile softened, her eyes filled with love. "And you're stubborn, just like your father. But Thor, whatever comes, know that I am proud of the man you're becoming. You carry so much on your shoulders, but you don't have to carry it alone. Let your people in. Let love in. And maybe, just maybe, consider giving your mother a grandchild someday."

Thor sighed, shaking his head, but a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. "I'll... think about it."

Frigga's laughter filled the room once more, a sound that felt like sunlight breaking through storm clouds. "That's all I ask, my son. That's all I ask."

Thor returned to her bedside, taking her hand once more. "I've missed your counsel, Mother. More than you know."

They sat together in comfortable silence, mother and son, while outside the palace windows, life in Asgard continued its eternal dance, golden and bright against the cosmic darkness beyond.