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samsexualdeancurious · 4 years

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Many Dark Places | Chapter Six (Finale)

Pairing: Thor x Reader (Eventual)

Words: 1,239

Warnings: hurt!Reader, trauma/PTSD, references/flashbacks to past torture, emotional and physical hurt/comfort, past and attempted kidnapping, Thor being a darling.

Summary: When cleaning up a camp of dark magicians near the new Asgard, Thor stumbles upon Y/N - the daughter of an Asgardian nobleman, who disappeared before Thor first traveled to Midgard in 2011.

A/N: I started writing this fic pre-Endgame and, as such, it exists in a strange world where they didn't make new Asgard on Earth and also maybe Thanos didn't win? Idk. (Loki's still dead, though. Sorry.)

Betaed by @samsgoddess and @the-soulofdevil

Header by me

Check out Thor's scent

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Three Years Later...

The chanting is low and otherworldly in the dark night. Your naked body is covered in goosebumps. The ropes binding you spread eagle between the trees are rough against the healing sores on your wrists and ankles. The torches each of your captors hold glow an ugly green color, blindingly bright in the darkness. You flinch away from the light, squeezing your eyes shut and turning your face to the side.

One of them, a young man with his face partly shadowed by his hood, steps forward with a bowl of some kind of liquid - you don’t know what it is and you probably don’t want to. He dips two fingers into the liquid and begins drawing on your body, staring in the center of your chest and working outward until unfamiliar symbols cover your body at regular intervals. You squint at them, squirming when the drying liquid makes your skin itch.

The chanting is building and the man returns to the circle of shadowy figures that surround you. The torches flare and you close your eyes again, pulling at the ropes despite the way it chafes. You do your best to pull your thoughts away from what’s going on around you, searching for that safe, happy place within yourself. It’s been so long since you’ve been home in real life, though, that the memories began to fade a long time ago.

When the chanting reaches a peak, pain rips through your body. Fiery, indescribable pain that starts in the symbols on your skin but works deeper. It feels like the symbols are being seared into your bones and a blood-curdling scream is pulled from your throat. Tears leak from your eyes, salty when they reach your open lips. You twist helplessly in your bonds, every inch of you fighting for freedom-

“Y/N!”

Your eyes snap open as you inhale sharply, hands flailing in the dim light of the room. There, hovering above you with those beautiful eyes, wide and worried, is Thor.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “Just a dream.”

A soft sob breaks free and Thor quickly bundles you into his arms, a stream of soothing words filling the air. You cling to him, letting the fear that still lingers spill down your cheeks. He rubs your back and rocks you gently.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur when the tears finally stop.

“You don’t need to apologize, lítit álpt,” Thor replies, kissing the top of your head. “You haven’t had one that bad in a while.”

You nod, resting your cheek against his chest and gazing across the room at the soft glow of the dying fire in the hearth. They finished the palace about a month before your wedding and the whole place still has that new home feeling. It’s smaller than the older palace, at Thor’s insistence, and there’s significantly less gold but you love it. The craftsmen put a lot of work into making a home fit for a king and they succeeded. Just the hearth alone is beautiful, intricate designs carved into the dark wood. A painting of Thor’s family - Odin, Frigga, himself, and Loki - hangs above it. You’ve found Thor gazing longingly at it many a time. You know how he feels.

It’s still a little disconcerting, being in the King’s quarters, even though this bed has also been yours for months. You have your own quarters but you’ve never used them for anything but dressing. You even bathe in Thor’s quarters most days. He doesn’t mind - he reminds you on a regular basis that what his is yours and he likes having you here. You remind him that even though it's been three years since that first night in his tent, you still can't reach your back and would appreciate his help. Thor's help is usually accompanied by kisses, playful water fights, and something more if you can get him out of enough clothes. He doesn't mind.

You close your eyes, seeing the ghost of the fire against the inside of your eyelids, and relax into Thor’s hands rubbing soothingly over your arms and back.

“Do you know what prompted it?” Thor asks, shifting to lean against the headboard and pulling you into his lap. Once you’re settled against him once more, he tugs the blankets up to cover you both and brushes your hair off your forehead.

“No. I don’t think it was anything in particular. It was the green one again. That one's always random.”

Thor nuzzles the top of your head, sighing softly. “All right. Will you be able to sleep again?”

You shrug. “Maybe.”

Thor’s fingers are running gently through your hair, sending pleasing shivers through your scalp and helping you relax more. Your hair is getting long now, you notice in an attempt to think about something other than your dream. You had decided to let it grow but lately you’ve been missing the ease of a shaved head and might just cut it all off again - Thor has even offered to do it for you. While it was traumatizing when the dark magicians first did it, Verdandi and you both agree that cutting it on your own terms might actually be healing.

“Do your best for me,” Thor is saying, scratching his nails lightly across your scalp and smiling at your pleased shiver. “Please?”

Just then, a sleepy cry can be heard from the adjoining nursery. Thor groans dramatically, looking proud of himself when you can’t help but giggle at his theatrics.

“I’ll be right back.” He kisses you softly. “Stay here.”

“Not going anywhere,” you say, more to yourself than to anyone else as you watch your husband cross the room.

He disappears into the nursery and you hear the low rumble of his voice, muffled until he returns. Your daughter looks minuscule in his arms. She’s still fussing, squirming against his chest and kicking at the blanket wrapped loosely around her.

“Shh, elska,” he says, bouncing her as he walks. “Móðir is right here. See? There she is.”

He sits on the edge of the bed and turns her so she can see you. She’s not looking, little face still scrunched up as she musters a fresh wail. You smile, warmed from the inside out at the sight of your husband doing his best to soothe your newborn’s cries. He doesn’t have the equipment to give her what she needs, though, and he sighs when he realizes there’s nothing he himself can do to please her at the moment.

“She’s just hungry. Come here, Frigga.” You reach for your baby and Thor hands her over. Frigga settles a bit once she’s in your arms, calming completely once you remove your nightshirt to present her with a nipple to nurse at. You used to be uncomfortable with even the idea of this, let alone doing it in front of Thor but now you love feeding Frigga. The gentle warmth of your daughter’s small body against your breast, the sweet smell of baby and milk, and the expression of pure joy Thor wears when he watches you are always enough to soothe your anxieties.

“I love you,” Thor murmurs, reaching out to brush his fingertips over Frigga’s soft blonde curls and then your cheek. His eyes are tender, that same blue that rescued you from the dark of a wagon - it feels like it’s been so much longer than a couple of years. “My beautiful girls.”

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Translations:

- little swan (f) - lítit álpt - mother (f) - móðir

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Team Forever: @mrswhozeewhatsis @manawhaat @laughing-at-the-darkness @tumbler-tidbits @imsuperawkward @books-and-icecream @emoryhemsworth

Team MDP:

#many dark places #thor x reader #my writing #marvel #mcu

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