@valiancedefined
sickness prompts send me for a drabble
Figuring out how to fight without his hammer, and, most importantly, without his eye, was something totally new and challenging. Thor knew his people needed him on his peak, on the height of his senses and strength, but seeing, aiming and fighting was hard.
"Again," Valkyrie told him, getting her sword ready to beat his ass. Again.
She wasn't going any easy on him, she couldn't: they knew the importance of this, of training, of knowing how to defend themselves and others. Thor never had problems with it before, but he was currently half blind, without his weapon of choice, wincing from wounds yet to fully heal.
Swirling his spear, he readied himself again, smirking to feign confidence, "I'll beat you this time."
Valkyrie shook her head, "I've already beat you."
Thor rolled his eye, "you've never beat me twice."
She was caught off guard by his lie when he struck, using the spear as best as he could, hitting her behind her knee and causing her to fall, but she was quick to regain her balance, striking, to which he dodged, hitting her, encircling her.
But, she hit him, again, across the chest.
"I won," she declared while Thor headed to the corner of the training match, removing his vambraces.
"Congratulations," he told her, sighing, infuriated. When would he go back to his usual shape? It had been days since he lost an eye and the hammer and yet he couldn't fight properly. Was he doomed to lose forever? Were all of his skills gone with the hammer? Or, perhaps, he never had any skill to begin with.
"Hey, what's wrong?" She seemed to read his mind, "we'll keep on training and you will get better, you are already evolving," she complimented him, to which he shook his head.
"I can't focus on anything other than this," he rested a hand across his missing eye, covered by the eye patch, admitting for the first time that it hurt, and it kept him distracted, annoyed and distressed most of time.
Valkyrie turned her back and left.
Thor wondered what he had done, if he had said something wrong. Some minutes later she was back with a warm potion and a cloth, "sit down," she ordered, and he protested, "I don't need you to worry about me, I am alright."
She interrupted him, a hand on her sword when she ordered furiously again, "sit down."
Thor did as he was told, resigned. She sat closer, removing his eye patch with surprisingly familiarity, not bothered by the wound or the scar, applying the wet cloth against his face.
Thor hissed, tensing, but slowly started feeling a bit better. The pounding headache that kept him company for weeks was slowly disappearing, and he could listen to his thoughts again, "thank you," he uttered, relaxing his shoulders, "you're welcome, your Majesty," she replied.
