The storm outside had quieted hours ago, but thunder still lived in him. He sat by the hearth, hands clasped, gaze fixed on the faint rise and fall of her breathing. The girl — his distraction, or perhaps his punishment. She looked so small there, wrapped in one of his furs, the soft light brushing over her face.

He hadn’t meant to frighten her. Truly. But she would have never come willingly — not to him. Not to the broken god who couldn’t save his own people.

Maybe she thought him mad. Maybe he was. Yet when he’d seen her alone again, by that same stretch of shore where the world seemed to end, something in him refused to let her vanish like the rest. He had lost enough.

Now she stirred, lashes fluttering as she woke. Thor rose from the chair, his voice low, roughened by sleepless nights.

“You are safe,” He said quietly. “No harm will come to you here.”

A pause. The fire crackled between them. His jaw clenched, unsure what she would see when her eyes found his — a savior, or a captor.

“I… found you near the cliffs. It was not safe to be out there alone.”

He didn’t mention that he’d been following her for days. Watching. Wondering why the sight of her made it easier to breathe.

Outside, rain tapped gently against the window. Inside, the god of thunder waited for her to speak.