When the Doctor had told Rory that he was taking him and Amy to a planet named Barcelona where people had dog's noses but were still, somehow, people, Rory didn't expect golden halls and the stuff of legends.

Indeed, Rory stood in the throne room of Asgard, a place he'd once thought fictional. The ceiling disappeared far higher than Rory thought it needed to be, and everything was golden. Especially the throne. The throne was really gold.

The Doctor had made a mistake, but he swore that Asgard was cooler than Barcelona the planet anyway, because within Asgard were Norse Myths come alive.

So when the Doctor went off to investigate a small problem the Asgardian warriors were having with an unknown creature, and Amy went off with Frigga, Odin's wife, to look at some Asgardian dresses, Rory found himself alone in the throne room. With Odin.

Odin AllFather. The Norse equivalent to God. THE God. And if he wasn't a God then he certainly was King, sitting upon his golden throne as if he'd been born in it, staring down at Rory with his one eye (his one terrifying eye) while the other remained hidden behind a golden eye patch.

Rory shuffled his feet and played with the hem of his shirt. "So…" he said. There had been greetings already. Now there was awkward silence. "I saw you had a, ah, broken bridge outside your castle." That had been interesting. The bridge was rainbow, but the end had been jagged.

"My sons had a fight and destroyed it," Odin said, in his low growl of a voice that made Rory thing of lions. Angry lions. Hungry, angry lions. "Children."

Rory sighed. "Tell me about it."

Odin looked surprised but continued, "Tell me, have you ever come home to find that your son has inexplicably become your daughter?"

"No," Rory said, scratching his head. "But I have had a daughter who inexplicably became older than both me and my wife, and for some reason wanted to kill Hitler."

"Huh," Odin said. There was a pause, during which Rory wondered how long it would take for Amy and the Doctor to get back. Too long, probably. "Is your daughter still older than you?"

"Yes," Rory said. "Is your son still your daughter?"

Odin shook his head. "No. He's simply angry now, and leaving destruction in his wake."

"That sounds like my daughter," Rory said. "Well, sometimes. One time she nearly caused the end of the universe, you know. Actually, it might've been twice. I'm not sure."

Odin raised an eyebrow. "I did not believe anyone could do worse than my son, but I have been proven wrong. For this, I am thankful."

"Yeah," Rory said. Though River also always saved the universe, so, there was that. "I love her, though. You know?"

"I do," Odin said.

The silence again took over and became uncomfortable. Rory had never really discussed his life as a parent with anyone except Amy and the Doctor, and this was Odin. He wasn't sure what to make of it.

"So," Rory said, clearing his throat, "I'm, ah, gonna go explore the castle and stuff. It was nice talking to you."

"Be careful," Odin said. "And I wish you and your daughter well."

"Same," Rory said, then quickly amended, "I wish you and your son well. I hope things get, er, better."

"As do I," Odin said.

And Rory walked as fast as he could through the huge (golden, of course) doors. He needed to find Amy and the Doctor and stick with them. And hopefully he wouldn't run into Odin's wayward son.

At the very least, he now knew that myths were as strange in person as they were in the books.