Elle nodded and took off her helmet. "Deal."
Thor picked up a piece of salmon sashimi, topped it with ginger, dipped it in soy sauce, and held it out to Elle.
She wrinkled her nose. "I thought I said no raw fish."
"No, you said you didn't want raw fish last night. Tonight is a different night."
She eyed him skeptically.
"Try it."
She scrunched up her face, leaned forward, and opened her mouth. Thor placed the fish on her tongue, and she began to chew. At first, her expression remained confused, but confusion turned to revulsion. She grabbed her napkin and spit into it before chugging down half a cup of soda.
"No. No. Nope." She waved her hands at him. "That is awful. Not tonight either. Not any night to be clear."
"It's delicious," Thor retorted. "You have to give it a chance."
"I did give it a chance, and the answer is no. It's slimy and chewy and... orange."
Thor laughed. "Orange? You don't like it because it's orange?"
"No. I don't like it because it's raw fish." She wiped her tongue on her napkin. "I'm beginning to think you are trying to starve me, Thor Odinson. First, no dinner last night, and now this."
"I offered to take you out to eat last night."
"You did. But if it had been anything like this, I would have been in the same spot, starving."
"All right. All right." Thor motioned the waitress over. "Please bring the lady a bento box with chicken teriyaki."
"Is the chicken raw?"
"No," said Thor. "It's cooked."
Elle smiled. "That I will eat."
"Tell me about yourself," Elle said.
"I thought you knew everything about me already." He laughed.
"Clearly, I don't. The books say nothing of sushi or motorcycles. I read what books say. I heard what people say. But I don't know what you say."
Thor looked at her for a moment. "Well, I come from a massive, dysfunctional, semi-intermarried family. I have five brothers, not including the ones my parents don't talk about. I grew up on Asgard. I was taught to fight. I fought. I fought more. Then it ended."
She studied him as he piled ginger and green paste on his pieces of fish before dipping them in soy sauce and popping them into his mouth. She saw his pain. His loneliness. She wondered for a moment what he had been like before Ragnarök. She assumed he would have been louder, more boisterous. Regaling people with his tales and wooing women to his bed.
"What are you thinking?"
She sipped her soda. "I wondered why you chose to stay in Helheim when you could live up here."
"Midgard is chaos. Down there is not. Humans are unpredictable, violent, and in some ways primitive. Helheim is organized. It has a hierarchy, and no matter what happens, hierarchy doesn't change. If you step out of line, you are punished. If you obey the laws, no one bothers you."
"I would have thought you'd prefer to be on Midgard, helping, trying to make order of the chaos."
"There is no making order of this place. Many have tried and failed. Until they unite and see themselves as equals and one people, there will never be peace. So, there's nothing I can do for them."
She’d never thought about that before. But then she hadn’t been in Midgard long. Yet, she couldn’t help but feel that the Asgardians could help Midgard so much. Especially the paranormal community. The werewolves and vampires, fae and demons, and every other race.
"Interesting," she finally said.
