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[shockput]

The days are gone when the Old Norsemen proclaimed him and Loki gods, claimed Valhalla for their warriors and sailed forth to the seas. Heimdall keeps vigil, but the life of mortals is but the blink of an eye to an Aesir. Their bones litter the earth, their stories fade.

Fondness grows anew after New Mexico, rooted firm after New York. In nine hundred years the world has changed so quickly and so much that he stands by Heimdall, asking that he describe what has become of those who once called upon the might of Asgard. There is potential, and soon Midgard will come to know the higher forms of war that are commonplace in the cosmos, and see that it is not merely Loki who wields mischief.

Sometimes, Heimdall says they call to their old gods. Thor has no desire to claim the obeisance of mortals without fully earning it — as everything now that lives must be earned. They respect him because he protects them, and when they call out —

There is a flash of bright, blinding light. The ground shakes on his landing. The invaders stop, and the rain beats down harder on them, only them. The sky over the villagers and the warriors they have with them is clear.

'I have come,' he says, calmly, 'to accept your surrender. Leave now and no harm will come to you. Fight, and you will most assuredly die.'

[amazones]

Diana's horse is forced into a sudden halt at the strange appearance, lifting on his hind legs at the surprise, though she's skilled enough that she manages not to fall off of it. Others near her aren't so lucky, but no one seems to be harmed, and she looks around briefly to make sure they're all alright before her attention turns back to the man facing away from them.

Suddenly there's no rain, not for them in any case. She looks up at the clear sky above, utterly speechless. She's seen power before, of course, and it's not disbelief that settles in her head. Just the shock of the situation rendering her still.

So she waits, instead. Her grip on her sword is tight, but she would rather not use it at all. She too had tried for words with these people, but they would not listen; but now, they recognize the God, and they know to be afraid. Some, she notes, start to pull back, but she sees a few still that may just be stupid enough to still charge forward out of stubbornness and spite. She's ready to fight them if she has to, but she hopes they will take the others' lead and retreat too.

[shockput]

They know to be afraid. Fear never conquers greed, or thirst, and soon the air rings with the thunder of battle. Thor is in the midst of it — the rain pounds on them. Mortals. Petty, and savage, though he knows better now, this is not the best of them.

Thunder dies down, the clouds pass, and they are picking through the field looking for survivors. Blood clogs the air, the tang of it strong in his nostrils, faint splatters on the armour. Nothing on the cape, still richly red, moving across.

'Hail, warrior,' he says to her, with a nod. 'Though they may return, it is our victory this day.'

[amazones]

Petty and savage indeed, yet Diana wouldn't have put it past some of them to be just mad enough to think that they could take on the power that's just been presented to them. Even Diana is in awe, though it is a brief thing, and by the time the men leave and they're left on their own, she looks as calm and composed as ever.

The people around her roar victoriously at Thor's words, and Diana herself smiles, a mix of accomplishment that isn't truly her own, and relief at seeing this battle reach an end. She steps forward, sheathing her sword, her shield kept tight to her side, almost like it's a part of her arm.

"Only because of you," she says, not a shred of ill will that he interfered. She's glad for it, even, for the blood that they did not need to spill. "And for that, you have my thanks. I am Diana of Themyscira."

She watches him quietly then, curious to see if he recognizes the name.