He scratches at his beard thoughtfully with his free hand, mulling that over. "Mine's that way, too. It means thunder, which I'm sure doesn't come as a surprise." Did his name shape him, or was it fate? That's something more like Loki would ponder, and Thor isn't terribly good at drawing conclusions about it, so he doesn't actively think on it for long. "I could name them what I hope they'll be, when they're grown. Or... what I'd like them to be for me, maybe."

There was a time that Thor had thought softness in a warrior was a thing to be pitied at best, but he knows better now. He still struggles with his own self-image, trying to embrace who he is - who he can be - instead of conforming to what Odin had wanted, but a lifetime of such is not easily forgotten. And he has his legacy to think of - will Asgard's scholars some day look back on him and call him King Thor the Gentle, and mean it unkindly?

Yet he would rather be known as a man who loved his people too much rather than not at all, and anything they might someday use to insult his memory can be no worse than anything else he's already shouldered blame for.

"Maybe Huggan and Miskunn," he muses out loud. "Comfort and Mercy."