KINGDOM COME ↝ Thor Odinson | 1

↳ EPILOGUE

          NOT ONCE HAD Olympia Amodei considered that the path she had so desperately sought would be one of gold and lightning — not once in her hunt for memories, her old life, a purpose for the future, had she expected the answers to lie within a marriage to the God of Thunder, roots in an otherworldly kingdom and family drama straight out of an Asgardian reality show. Yet the twists and turns that her life had taken, with the risk of bruises and tears, had been utterly worth it and the slow process of finding herself had been fulfilling, even if difficult. She missed her family on Earth, too, especially when FaceTiming Darcy wasn't really an option and Erik's letters had undoubtedly gotten lost somewhere in space, but even with the flaws and hardships it came with, the new page she had turned wasn't as tarnished as it could have been.

          It had all been terrifying at first, but days spent meeting people from the kingdom, learning Asgardian etiquette with Frigga — she supposed Thor feeling out of place on Earth was justified now — and nights with her soulmate whether it was him guiding her to another hidden gem of a place somewhere in the realm or pushing their own boundaries within the confines of their bedroom, wasn't half-bad. It had taken some getting used to, and the idea of being queen one day still seemed almost like a joke, but she had even taken up training with Sif and the Warriors Three. As an Asgardian, she had powers to be unlocked; mighty strength, and as worthy of Mjölnir, she had her own weapon to be molded. She didn't see herself as a warrior just yet, but the thought wasn't so hard to swallow, anymore.

          Cross-legged, Olympia sat on the bed she had grown to share with Thor with a book resting in the nook between her thighs — the first night in their sole chamber had been something of awkward, with Olympia missing home and trying her best to settle in, so Thor had kindly taken the couch-like seat under the tall window while the Amodei had prayed for sleep in the outrageously large bed. The next night, however, as Thor had collected his pillows onto the loveseat once more, she had called out shyly and offered him a place next to her — she was positive she'd never forget the way his face had lit up, only to be painted with concern that she had dismantled immediately. Now, she could hardly imagine sleeping without his warm, large body offering her comfort and safety in the dark of the night.

          Right now, though, she was all alone in the silent room with her eyes repetitively scanning the cursive, almost messy scribbles on the yellowing pages. She had been cleaning up Loki's room, putting his memory to rest when Thor had so requested, proving unable to complete the task himself, when she had stumbled upon a hidden notebook, one that she wouldn't have pried any further in, had she not come across her mother's name on the front page. Delia Amodei, her journal being the only concrete thing left of her after her escape to Midgard, now exposed to Olympia along with the deepest, darkest corners of Delia's mind unloaded onto the fragile pages.

          Olympia couldn't deny that she was the slightest bit on edge when it came to finding out who her mother had really been — whether she was someone to blame for how her life had turned out or someone to praise for giving her a second chance. Nonetheless, she had rushed back to her and Thor's room with the journal in her nervous grasp, and for the past hours, she had been reading through the same story more than she cared to admit.