It's taken me years, but hey, look, I finally finished it! Sorry about the wait... I'll turn things over to the God of Thunder now.

(Uh, all previous disclaimers apply... you know, Thor and Coulson and everyone aren't mine, etc.)

Thor would readily admit that he hadn't known the Son of Cole very well; he had encountered him only briefly, and much of that first encounter was… well, Thor was hardly proud of his behavior. In retrospect, he saw his error. He had been playing the spoiled child, denied for the first time that which he felt was rightfully his, and in this, he had been not so different from Loki; they had exchanged roles along the way, Thor rising above his own pride and arrogance, and Loki descending into madness.

He would have made a poor king, the Thor who had last come to Midguard, his heart full of hatred, lusting for war; he who thought himself above all else, he who sought to rule without understanding the truth of the position he would hold. He was a changed man, after the events in New Mexico, now quite content to remain prince for as long as he was able.

Loki's mischief-making on Earth had seen to it that he was much closer to the throne than he might have liked, but there was little to be done about it now. And now things had become even more complicated.

He was no stranger to fighting alongside comrades in arms; he had done it alongside Loki and Sif and the Warriors Three for quite some time before his fateful detour to Jotenheim. This war on Loki and his Chitauri had been scarcely different, except that his companions were a great deal… well, stranger than he was accustomed to. And to be sure, he was accustomed to strange companions.

He had been so determined to bring Loki to justice, to stop his scheming before it was too late; it never even occurred to him that he might not be the only one with that goal. It had never occurred to him that he might find allies on this world with powers that rivaled his own. He had been shown the error of his ways very quickly, and very painfully, reminded with a single ineffectual hammer-blow that he and Loki were not the only extraordinary beings presently on Midguard. And even those beings who were not really extraordinary, the SHIELD agents who had paid for their service with their lives, they were as deserving of the title of 'hero' as any of the so-called Avengers.

Especially the Son of Coul, whom Thor had only known for a spare few days, but he had also made certain that Thor's human friends had been well looked-after, saw to it that Jane was safe when Loki returned, and he might not have known very much about Phil Coulson, but he knew that he had been a good man. Better than most, better than some of the humans who now surrounded him at the eating establishment the metal man had wished to visit. Thor had decided upon his first bite of the 'shawarma' that he must bring the Warriors Three here; Volstagg would be in Valhalla. Thor had been devouring his meal, as only an Asguardian could, to the astonished looks of his new comrades for the past half-hour. By now, they had lost interest in his mammoth appetite, and all conversation had ceased.

Suddenly, Agent Romanoff held up her glass and began tapping a fork against it. It didn't quite make the right sort of clinking noise, and human toasts, he discovered, were far shorter and less boisterous than he was accustomed to.

It was perhaps not the tribute to a fallen hero he would have liked. But none of them were in the spirit, nor in physical shape, at present for a proper Asguardian farewell. So Thor supposed this quiet meal, and a glass that didn't make the right noise, and Agent Romanoff's simple, quiet words would have to do.

He would raise a proper glass when he returned home. He would tell his friends stories of the Son of Cole and his bravery, of the bravery and might of all of Earth's defenders, great and small; how they stood stalwart by his side and together, they fought off the might of Loki's armies and saved the whole of the world.

He could do that much, at least, for his fallen friend. He would make him into a good and proper story.

A tale worth the telling.

And that's the end. Thanks to all those who stuck with me (and again, sorry for the wait).