As the artificial winter of Loki's occupation of Asgard ended, the surrounding lands of gentle, rolling hills, known as the plains of Ida, soon recovered from the rime and hoarfrost that the ice giants had brought with them. Ymir and his forces had retreated back to the lands of Jotenheim to recover from their losses in support of Thor's half-brother's rebellion, taking the chill of death with them. Freed from the ice, the green meadows and golden grain-stalks of the fields around Asgard began to re-assert themselves as benefited the lands of Asgard.
It had been a week since the Avengers had defeated Loki, distracting him in his omnipotent, insane rage and hatred while they re-directed the Odin-Force from Yggdrasil back to the All-Father, raising Odin from his regenerative slumber and sending Loki's plans for the dominion of the Nine Realms crashing down in defeat. In the time since, all of the citizens of Asgard, from the highest-born prince to the lowest-born thrall, had labored mightily, repairing the damage done by the predations of Loki's allies. Halls that had been shattered were raised up high again. Great wainloads of stone had been brought from the nearby mountains to repair the walls and gates of the city.
None had worked harder in the rebuilding than Thor Odinson, the Lord of the Thunder. Few could match the son of Odin's sheer physical strength; by himself, he would hold enormous stone columns in place while craftsmen secured them and made them whole. The Asgardian craftsman were grateful for the assistance, as when Thor bent his arm to a task that required the strength of many, they could focus on skilled craftwork rather than those tasks which required brute force.
Almost as important as Thor's help was the example he set for others; if a prince of Asgard, and the mightiest warrior in the Shining Realm, did not scruple to even the most basic of labors, how could they themselves stint in the giving of their own assistance. Everywhere, warriors of Asgard set aside sword and spear and took up the hammer and lathe. The recovery of Asgard was well underway.
Thus it was that nobody begrudged them a day of rest, proclaimed by Odin himself. Long tables were removed from house and hall, and brought to the plains of Ida, where they were piled high with victuals, ale casks, and an enormous supply of mead.
Thus it was that Thor found himself on a picnic in the foothills with his boon companions, the Warriors Three, Baldur the Brave, and the Lady Sif. True to form, Volstagg was surrounded by food and drink, Fandral the Blade had brought three different Asgardian maidens as companions, and Hogun the Grim sat brooding, his dark thoughts ever his own. Baldur and Sif were deep in conversation regarding how best to guard against a re-occurence of a usurpation during the next Odin-Sleep.
Thor excused himself, desiring to walk alone for awhile in the hills. Thor Odinson blamed himself, fairly or not, for Loki's near-success; he should have looked deeper than the surface. Thor knew his brother, and knew how devious he could be, how he revelled in the misleading manipulation of others. While Thor himself knew that he was not as clever as his half-brother, that didn't mean that he was excused from exercising his mental faculties as well as his mighty thews. Not all problems could be solved with a love-tap from Mjolnir; some required understanding and compromise.
Thor hated those situations. His strength, his warrior spirit, the sheer power at his command recommended solutions of force and will, not understanding and finesse. Fortunately, he was learning, albeit slowly, from his mortal companions, especially the warrior called Captain America. Although strong for a mere mortal, Captain America's real effectiveness lay in his mind and spirit. When the rest of the Avengers were in despair at facing Hoarfin the Ice Wolf, it was the good Captain who rallied their spirits and directed their efforts, taking down the legendary monster in good order. Thor pondered; was it the mortal's lack of sheer power which had forced the development of his mental acuity, his sense of strategy and tactics, to use whatever tools at hand to bring forth victory from hopelessness? More importantly, was Thor going to be able to unlearn his instincts enough to be able to learn this new paradigm?
"Hail Thor Odinson, Prince of Asgard!" came a hail from the far side of the hill. Thor looked up from his ruminations, and saw a maiden step out from behind a tree, holding a massive tankard. As he approached, she offered him the tankard. "Would you honor me by allowing me to offer you mead? I myself had the brewing of it, from the golden bounty of my bees." The woman stood tall and slender like an ash tree, her pale blond hair loose about her face and shoulders. She was perfect of form, her breasts the size and firmness of apples, set high on her chest. Her hips swelled with a promise of a muscular softness.
