Thunderous Fate (Thor x reader) || Record of Ragnarok

**Thor Perspective** 

His body felt sluggish, as though he had been submerged in thick, unyielding mud. Blinking slowly, he forced himself upright, sitting on the edge of the bed as his mind gradually cleared from the fog that clouded it. His thoughts came in fragments, images slotting back into place.

The bath.

In the quiet warmth of it, Thor had felt a rare peace, her presence grounding him in a way nothing else had. Her eyes, full of understanding. Her touch, soothing parts of him buried beneath years of duty. Her voice had trembled with uncertainty, revealing a shared burden between them—a truth neither had been ready for. They both uncovered more than intended, the tension between duty, love, and sacrifice laid bare. When her hand reached for his, he took it without hesitation, feeling the warmth of their connection—fleeting, as it always was.

He strained to recall more.

After the bath, they had settled by the fire. He had been tending to it, the low flames licking at fresh logs. Then Y/n had wrapped her arms around him from behind, pressing her face between his shoulder blades. Thor could still feel the weight of her touch, the way her breath had warmed his skin through his tunic. She had whispered something—something tender and soft that made his heart ache in the most pleasant way.

But then...

Thor's jaw tightened as the feeling returned. Drowsiness. Thick, unnatural fatigue that had wrapped around him like a shroud, pulling him into a deep, unwelcome slumber. He hadn't thought much of it at the time, too overwhelmed by the comfort of her presence. But now, with his mind clearer, it didn't make sense.

Why would he suddenly feel so weak?

A subtle, rhythmic pulse pulled at his attention, and he glanced to his side where Mjolnir rested. The hammer hummed softly, its runes faintly glowing—a sign of unrest.

Thor narrowed his eyes, reaching for the weapon and feeling the familiar surge of power at his fingertips. The strange unease in his chest only grew stronger as Mjolnir pulsed again. 

He focused on the energy that lingered within the mark he had placed on Y/n—the one that would always allow him to sense her presence.

His heart sank when he found... nothing. A hollow void where she should have been.

His grip on Mjolnir tightened, teeth grinding as panic began to seep in.

"What have you done?" he whispered, voice rough and angry at himself for not realizing sooner.

She had used an enchantment. She'd enchanted him—to keep him asleep.

But why?

What had pushed her so far that she would go to such lengths... without him?

He shot to his feet, the earlier fatigue dissipating as adrenaline surged through his limbs. He moved to the door, chest tight with dread and confusion, when a sharp knock echoed from the other side.

He yanked it open with more force than necessary.

Captain Ragna stood on the other side, pale and solemn.

Thor's gut twisted. Whatever the captain was about to say—it was grave.

"Lord Thor," Ragna began, voice tense. "We need to speak. It's about Fjellheim."

Thor's eyes narrowed. "What happened?"

Captain Ragna hesitated. "The Allfather... invaded Fjellheim. Reports indicate Y/n fought against him... and escaped. She's gone. The entire town was decimated."