AN: This isn't really a crossover with The Eight Days of Luke or American Gods, but it was certainly inspired by each. Probably also the product of reading large amounts of Vinland Saga in the wee hours of the morning. My viking obsessed archeology professor just added fuel to the fire by gushing over longships all semester. Blah blah, on with the show.

If Denmark had been paying attention, he might have noticed something was a bit off about that rundown little roadside bar. He might have noticed the two large ravens perched on the fence outside, and that their eyes were far more intelligent than any normal bird's. He might have stopped and thought that it was strange that someone had left a horse tied up outside (and if he had really looked closely, he might have noticed that the horse had too many legs.) A green neon sign above the door read 'Hlidskjalf,' but even that didn't stand out much in his mind. Denmark just thought was that it was kind of a weird name for a bar, but he had certainly been to bars with weirder names than that. He just wanted a beer and this was the first place he came upon, but as he walked through the front door he found himself craving mead. He hadn't had a drop of the stuff in ages, but now he couldn't get it out of his head.

The inside had the same musty old feeling that the outside had. There were a few wooden tables and chairs, and the place was empty except for a female bartender and one old man wearing a dark blue coat sitting at the bar. Denmark strolled up and took a seat next to the man.

"You serve mead here, don't you? I want a glass."

"I'll have the same," said the old man. Denmark glanced over at him. There was something incredibly familiar about the fellow. His white hair and beard were long, uncommonly so, although that in itself wasn't so terribly strange. There was a very tall walking stick, more of a staff, really, that was resting against the bar beside him that also seemed a bit out of place. It wasn't until Denmark noticed the man was missing an eye, a fact that he made no attempt to cover it with a patch or glass eye, that all the pieces suddenly fell into place.

"Good evening," the man said, and turned his remaining eye toward Denmark, who suddenly felt that he should have been kneeling. "I don't suppose that you remember me."

"Sure I do," Denmark answered, after swallowing a few times to bring himself back in control. This always seemed to happen whenever they met, although it had been centuries since they last spoke. Even Denmark found it hard to not be intimidated by someone like him. "I didn't know that you were still alive, though. It's been a long time."

"I haven't been forgotten. I live so long as I am remembered, just as you live so long as your people are still whole."

"If that's how it works then damn, you'll live forever. Who could forget you?"

Their mead had arrived by then. Denmark stared at his and waited for the man to take a drink before sampling his own. It tasted old, like the halls and the longships and the days when the world had been so much bigger.

"Many have forgotten me," the man said, breaking the silence. "More forget every year. People have no need for me these days."

The ugly truth hung in the air, and the silence turned thick and heavy. Denmark couldn't very well deny it, and suddenly found himself at a loss for words. Was he supposed to say something comforting now? He wasn't an expert on comforting people. He usually went with a brotherly punch on the arm when he felt one of his Scandinavian brothers needed some cheering up, and somehow that didn't seem like the right thing to do with a god. When he finally found the words, they were halting and awkward.

"You're still here, you know. We haven't forgotten you yet. But I gotta say, I almost didn't recognize you at first. It's the t-shirt and jeans, they threw me off." Denmark almost continued to say 'you look more like some old hippie than the chief of the gods,' but thought better of it. He remembered what the old man was like when he got angry.

"I had to change in order to continue being a part of this world," the old man said with a hint of annoyance. "How far would I get if I wore robes or chain mail? You have had to change too, I see. You exchanged your longships for those ugly metal boats."

"I had to. A country has to keep up with the rest of the world, y'know? The steel ships we've got now are stronger than anything we could have build out of wood. They're faster too, crossing the ocean is pretty easy these days."

"But they are not beautiful. They have no soul."

There was nothing he could say. Of course the modern ships couldn't compare to the old ones. They were stronger and faster, sure, but they meant so much less. They weren't alive, not like the longships had been. They had a spirit that was almost tangible. They build some with heads and eyes, so they could see and guild and keep their crew safe. They built life into them. Once they were the most advanced in the world, but now they were obsolete. Just old curiosities to the modern world. Time had left his beautiful ships behind, and it bothered him more than it should have.

Denmark took a large gulp of his mead and swallowed his bitterness along with it. Time to change the topic. He still had questions for the old man.

"You've been around this whole time, right? Then the rest of...of your kind, are they still alive? Where are your Valkyries? I mean, where have they been during all these wars?"

"They've been carrying away your bravest men, just as they always have. You probably just didn't see them in the heat of battle. They aren't easy to spot these days, if you don't know what to look for. They've had to change their form a bit as well, to fit with the new world."

Denmark wanted to ask 'Then what should I be looking for? How will I know it's them?' but the woman bartender suddenly caught his eye. She glanced up and gave him a secretive smile before returning her attention to the glass she had been cleaning. Denmark gave himself a little mental shake (how had he not noticed? She had been there the entire time!) and asked the question that had been nagging at him since he recognized the old man.

"And what about Ragnarök?"

"It will come, and if I still live, then I will fight. And if you haven't forgotten me by then, there will be a place for you by my side in that final battle." The old man's face softened a little into a smile. "Your brother nations are welcome as well, if they wish it."

"I'm sure Norway does. I think he misses the old days sometimes."

Their glasses had been empty for several minutes now, but as Denmark started to flag down the bartender to order more, the old man stood. Denmark raised an eyebrow at him.

"Are you leaving already? What's the rush?"

"I am but a humble wanderer at the moment," the man said as he picked his staff up off the bar. "And I'm not much of a wanderer if I don't keep wandering. The world is different now. There is still more for me to see."

"What, are Huginn and Muninn not doing their job?"

"Ha, did you see them outside? No, they're the same as always, but there are things they can't tell me."

"Like what?"

The old man turned back to Denmark with a small, crooked smile.

"Tell me, why do you walk among the humans? Why do you pretend to be one of them? Is there anything you get from them that can't be found in your own kind?"

He left without waiting for Denmark's answer, and by the time the country had paid for the drinks (the old bastard left him with the tab) and rushed outside, the birds, horse and man were all gone. A week later, he returned to the same place and found that the bar had vanished too. There was nothing left but some strange horse tracks in the mud and the memory of the taste of mead, lurking around his tongue like a ghost. After a while, even those faded away to nothing.

Historical and Mythological Notes:

If you haven't guess by now, yeah, the old man is Odin, the chief god in Norse mythology. He's sometimes known as the Allfather. In addition to being a war god, he's also known for being very clever. He has several different forms, one of which is that of a wanderer in a dark blue cloak with a traveler's staff.

Huginn and Muninn are the ravens outside. They fly around the world and report back to Odin about what's going on in the world. The horse is Sleipnir, Odin's eight-legged horse. The bartender was indeed a Valkyrie, which were women who carried the souls of men who died bravely in battle to Valhalla, where they would feast and generally have a great old time until Ragnarök, when they would fight alongside Odin at the end of the world. In some sources, the valkyries also served drinks and food to the men at Valhalla. Hlidskjalf was the high seat of Odin, where he could see all the worlds.

Mead is downright ancient, and might be the first fermented drink man ever created. It was very popular with the Germanic peoples, especially in places were grapes couldn't be grown to make wine. The mead halls during the Viking age in Scandinavia had a lot of cultural significance. Pretty much all the big, important social events (major feasts and whatnot) went on there. Valhalla itself is considered a mead hall (although clearly of a higher class than anything humans could throw together.)

Longships were really cool things, and very technologically advanced for their time. They used the strongest parts of the tree very efficiently to make strong, fast boats that could sail in very shallow water (perfect for getting up rivers to raid those hard-to-reach villages!) The Drekkar ships were the ones most often used for raiding, and they were the ones that usually had figureheads of dragons, snakes and so forth (partially because of the belief that it would keep sea monsters away, but also because anyone who saw one of those coming at them would be pretty damn scared.) The ships were highly valued. When a viking king would die, he would often be buried in his ship. Sometimes the king or cheifian would be placed in his ship and the whole thing would be burned (along with his other possessions and a 'willing' human sacrifice. There was also much ritual boozing at the funeral. The vikings knew how to have a good time.) Long story short, viking longships were awesome, lovely things. Really, Google the Oseberg or the Gokstad longships, they're beautiful.

Anyway, the counties seem to be in contact with various supernatural entities (England's fairies, Russia's General Winter and so forth) so I figured they'd be able to see gods as well. I'm kind of tempted to do more with this idea of countries meeting their old gods. With that in mind, any suggestions? I've been thinking of doing Zeus and Greece (reminiscing about Greece's mom?) and maybe Chernobog and Russia (dark and mysterious god is...dark and mysterious. And I was watching Fantastia last night.) Thoughts?

Reviews are loved as always.