Everything That Ends, Must Begin

I have dreamed such dreams.

His eyelids touch softly as he reclines, his curtainless window providing an unfettered view of Asgard, and all its beauty. In his dreams, he isn’t sitting on some glorified arm chair in a private room, he is sitting on the God-throne itself as the Lord of all Asgard. His eyelids open. He knows he couldn’t have heard a footstep, that no one would be fool enough to attempt to enter unseen into the personal chambers of the Thunder God Thor, yet there it was again. He springs forth from his seat, and the fist still catches him by surprise.
In Thor’s room there are no candles, simply the moonlight wafting in through the open window. Mjolnir sits on the nightstand next to the bed, ready to rush to his aid should he need it. The intruder wears a hood and the shadow it casts is sufficient to shield his face from Thor’s eyes in the room’s low lighting. The trick with lightning however is that it’s very bright.
The intruder launches and the room bristles with a scarcely contained fury.

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