The weight of the lifeless body in his arms does little to diminish the memory of Steve in his final hour, Mjolnir singing in his hand as he dropped blow after hefty blow on the Mad Titan, the heavy scent of ozone tracing his path across the battlefield. If Thor dies an old man, he is not sure he will ever forget the sight, nor will he ever see its like again. "Yes," he agrees, that quiet pride still in his voice. No one else will ever use the hammer to slay another foe once it's returned to its proper time, and if Steve Rogers was Mjolnir's last master, even Thor's ego is satisfied with the honor.
Valhalla could ask for no finer warrior at its table.
There is a part of Thor that was hoping that there would be a suitable Ghost to greet them when they'd arrived, or that at any moment, one might appear and revive the fallen soldier in Thor's arms. But miracles are never promised, and he has learned enough of patience that he can wait as long as it takes. Even if it never does.
Another person who knew Steve before the serum. There do seem to be a surprising lot of them, and Thor looks down at the shroud in his arms as a thought occurs. "He won't remember any of that either, will he?"
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Valhalla could ask for no finer warrior at its table.
There is a part of Thor that was hoping that there would be a suitable Ghost to greet them when they'd arrived, or that at any moment, one might appear and revive the fallen soldier in Thor's arms. But miracles are never promised, and he has learned enough of patience that he can wait as long as it takes. Even if it never does.
Another person who knew Steve before the serum. There do seem to be a surprising lot of them, and Thor looks down at the shroud in his arms as a thought occurs. "He won't remember any of that either, will he?"