#(which ultimately boils down to worthiness and his strange perceptions of ... ALL of that... but yeah...)

[magnusmodig]

the royal treatment / @divinityrisen / ACCEPTING !

╰┈➤ “You might have to ask yourself, however right your claim is, if you are the leader the realm needs and wants.” ( from sif! )

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 many things in thor's life which in some way , shape , form or fashion were preordained. schedules and appearances , suitors and alliances , treaties and sometimes even wars. of course , it was not in thor's nature to oft pursue the guiles of the fates. the winds DID NOT BOW to the mountainside , and neither did the rains flow down the sheer cliff's face beyond the paths of the rivulet's OWN MAKING.

but chief amongst that which was preordained was the nature of thor's very blood that flowed through his veins ; THOR'S BIRTHRIGHT. and so , as he stood at the newest precipice of asgard's history , so it was that storm sovereign found in his nature a stirring battle , and A GREAT RECKONING.

he knew better than ALL that the summons of the all - father was not a right one might FORFEIT. yet the throne forfeit the right of claim to one's own heart. this , a HARSH REALITY father had tirelessly conveyed from thor's youngest age. to hear its long shadow pass from the lips of she whom thor so greatly admired brought with it a deeply-rooted TENSION to knot his shoulders taught , and a frown form and to furrow his brow.

alas , for as much as the words were an ARROW whose wound may cut to the quick , it was the sentiment behind it that aimed true. mortals would name it thus : TOUGH LOVE. as it was from lady sif , thor considered the words for the purpose with which they were meant : as wise counsel . . .

. . . the consideration did not put thor's mind at ease. nor his own nerves as static bristled around the curl of his fingers. the flat of his palm passed idly over the palace bannister. ❝  indeed , so that may be true. ❞

a pause. cerulean gaze greyed as it fell from heavens above and dragged towards his companion , burning with question : what sort of heir was he in her eyes ?

to ask something so brazen so CANDIDLY was a battle all its own. ( not to mention an unnecessary blight upon his friend's conscience. ) and so as swiftly as the notion dared surface , so too was it swathed behind his own careful efface of his forlorn expressions , and buried beneath the dip of his gaze to somewhere just offset sif's chin.

❝  . . . i only question the wisdom of such HASTE, ❞ he admitted around the sudden stone in his throat. ❝ it was my own foolishness which opened the nine realms to the floodgates of such chaos. certainly i speak for their good in my hesitation. ❞