"Let's talk about you and Jane."
Hong Fei studied Thor's profile.
"You haven't spent much time together, have you?"
Thor pulled his arm back, eyes fixed on the fire.
"No, we haven't."
After a long pause, he surprised them both with sudden clarity: "The depth of a relationship isn't measured in hours logged."
Hong Fei's smile flickered like a candle in the wind—there and gone before Thor could notice. Oblivious, the god kept speaking, voice rough with longing: "I think of her daily. Wish I could abandon every battle and fly to her side. But I can't. Love isn't my only duty."
"Hmm. That's responsibility any man should own."
"Exactly!"
Thor's fist hit his palm.
"Perhaps because our time's so scarce, the hunger between us burns brighter. When we finally meet—"
"Save the poetry for her ears, Thunderer."
Hong Fei held up a hand.
"I'm certain she'd appreciate your heartfelt declarations far more than I do."
This wasn't some cheap romance novel. At Hong Fei's interruption, Thor fell silent—but pride still radiated from him like heat from a forge. The god wore his devotion openly, never one for subtlety.
Hong Fei chose his next words carefully.
"Her current state? That's on you."
"You know?"
Thor stiffened.
A nod.
"After New York, I honored your request to watch over her. Even while handling my own affairs, I kept tabs during your absences."
"Thank you."
Thor's gratitude carried the weight of Mjolnir.
"Since returning to Asgard, I've been quelling rebellions across the Nine Realms. Only recently achieved peace—all thanks to Loki's mischief."
Hong Fei waved away the thanks.
"You must've noticed Jane's research shift. She waited for you at first. When you never came..."
"What?"
"She decided if the mountain wouldn't come to Muhammad..."
The implication hung between them.
Thor's breath caught. Emotions warred across his face before resolve hardened his features.
"No matter my father's objections, she's my chosen. I'll find a way to heal her."
Then, abruptly: "Do you know what's inside her?"
Hong Fei knew. Couldn't admit it.
"Enlighten me."
"The Aether."
Thor launched into a disjointed explanation about Dark Elves and ancient wars, his narrative jumping like stones across a river. By the time he cobbled together something resembling a coherent legend, Hong Fei realized the god knew less than he did.
As the story ended, Thor's shoulders slumped.
"My father disapproves."
Hong Fei stayed silent. Not his place to interfere with royal family drama—though Odin's stance was clear.
A future king's marriage carried political weight. His queen would rule beside him. While "status matching" sounded like outdated nonsense, sometimes practicality outweighed romance.
The math was cruel: Thor, fifteen centuries old with millennia ahead. Jane, mortal—a hundred years would be a blessing, barely a tenth of Thor's current lifespan.
Odin's words echoed: She'll never enter Asgard's halls. Some dishes simply don't belong on the table. Harsh. Ugly. True.
Jane is a mortal; living to a hundred is considered long-lived, yet that doesn't even equal one-tenth of the time Thor has already lived.
He understood Odin's perspective, but his own convictions made agreement impossible. At the same time, he couldn't fault Thor's pursuit of love. Such contradictions weren't uncommon. If pressed for advice, he might've said: Just stall. Wait until Odin's gone and you're God-King. Then do as you please.
With enough power, you could marry a hundred mortal women and no one would dare object. But voicing that outright? Unthinkable. So Hong Fei settled for a sigh.
After a long silence, Thor suddenly looked up, scanning the cabin with a faint smile.
"Didn't expect Sif to put you here."
"Oh? Why's that?"
"This used to be her place."
Hong Fei's brow lifted.
Thor chuckled.
"Long time ago, though. She didn't want to live at home back then, so she dragged me, Volstagg, Fandral, and Hogun into it. We chopped wood, trimmed planks, built it piece by piece—while she stood there pointing and bossing us around."
"You were handy with tools back then."
"Damn right. See that wall? My work."
Hong Fei glanced over. No wonder it looked slightly crooked compared to the rest—the Thunder God's craftsmanship.
"She lived here for years before moving back. Still visits sometimes."
Hong Fei gave a nod. Thor stared at him, unblinking.
"What?"
"Nothing to say?"
"About what?"
"The cabin."
"It's nice. Simple. Warm."
Thor exhaled in frustration.
"You know what I mean."
"Exactly why I won't say it."
"Fine. One more thing—Sif's like me. She treasures her sword almost as much as—"
"Enough. Bad timing, don't you think?"
Thor's smile faded. He sat quietly for a moment before standing.
"Father wants to see you. I'll come by tomorrow morning."
"Got it."
They rose. Hong Fei saw him to the door. Thor waved and took off into the sky.
Closing the door, Hong Fei doused the fire, washed up, and climbed the stairs. Pushing open the bedroom door, he caught a whisper of fresh fragrance. The bed was neatly made, snow-white linens stark against the dark wood walls.
Lying down, he turned the orange Panther God card between his fingers, Dragon Power humming through him. The card's glow had nearly faded entirely.
Morning light crept through the window frame. Hong Fei dressed, then walked out to the lakeshore.
Asgard's great lake spanned the continent, its surface mirror-still, not a ripple in sight. It stretched to the land's edge where water cascaded down like a sheer white curtain—a tablecloth with its hem trailing into the void.
Hong Fei saw many fish beneath the lake's surface; their shapes weren't so different from Earth's. As he walked the pebbled shore, his mind churned, refining plans. If you want to keep a secret, he mused, even from the god you worship most, never let it show.
This time, he'd kept his plans to himself. The execution—that could involve others. But choosing the target and making decisions? Those were his alone.
Plop. The still lake surface shuddered as a stone broke its mirror. Ripples raced outward in frantic circles.
Cold water splashed against Hong Fei's cheek, the shock of it sharpening his senses. He turned to find Sif standing there in silver armor, her greatsword strapped across her back. One hand rested behind her while the other absently tossed a stone—catch, toss, catch. When their eyes met, she snapped the pebble from midair.
"Up early?"
"Later than you, apparently."
"Naturally."
Her voice carried quiet pride despite the neutral expression. She closed the distance between them, gaze locked and unreadable—something almost predatory in it. Stopping just out of arm's reach, she demanded, "When do you leave?"
"Not sure."
"Hmm?"
"Honestly don't know. Maybe once Jane recovers. Thor can send me back then."
Sif's attention flicked to the lake.
"You worry for her?"
"No. She's Thor's. Not my place."
He shrugged.
"But I came with her. When she's healed, that's my cue."
Malekith aside, no one in the Nine Realms could purge the Aether's corruption. Hong Fei had tried—his dragon energy couldn't touch it, not at his current mastery.
Sif resumed tossing the stone.
"Can you handle a blade?"
"Passably."
"Truly?"
"I know many things. Master of none."
A laugh burst from her—sharp, surprised.
"That's meant to be humble?"
"Isn't it?"
"Then I'll make time to train you."
He turned fully now. Sif's face betrayed nothing as she added, "I won't have mediocrity wielding my steel."
Hong Fei's smile flashed.
"Then I'll take your instruction gladly."
Before she could reply, Thor's voice boomed across the clearing. The golden-haired prince stood at the cabin's threshold, waving.
"Hong! To Asgard!"
Hong Fei returned the gesture before glancing back at Sif.
"Duty calls."
She gave a single nod, cool as moonlight.
Air screamed as Hong Fei launched skyward. Thor followed, Mjolnir's arc carving thunder through the dawn. Only when their forms shrank to specks did Sif still her restless hand.
Then, with a crisp crack, the stone in her palm shattered to dust. Her fingers curled inward, slow and deliberate. Powder streamed through the gaps, caught by the wind before it could kiss the earth—scattered, gone.