Entering Nidavellir, I am immediately awed at it's environment. It reminds me of the settings in some fantasy movies and shows. It is mid day here, with clear skies and sunshine. All around me appears to be a mountain range, and I'm not sure if that meant the whole realm is a mountain range or if we just happen to be visiting somebody living here, but I am conflicted between being eager to explore the realm of the Dwarves, and concerned with how much time we are taking to get prepared to head to Vanaheim. I understand however that I need equipment if I'm going to be fighting for Vanaheim. Unfortunate that I don't think I've ever fought with a weapon before. Seeing that I have no other options available at the moment, I decide to focus on my surroundings. Taking in all I could.
There is a mountain village that seems to be our destination. Tyr is leading the way, and we are walking up this stone path along a mountain side that is leading us into a village with buildings made of wood and stone. There are Dwarves out and about, among taller folk that have to be at least two feet taller than me. No in between either. Either they were short, or tall. It made me wonder if some Jotnar lived here. All of them are running errands, working, enjoying the sun, until we show up. Once our presence is known, the villagers meet us with a mixture of tentative responses. Some smile and wave, some are giving me confused looks. I had thought it was because of how I was dressed, but then the idea that they might recognize me as the new Thor popped into my head. Was my previous iterations death common knowledge? Either way, nearly all of them were looking upon us with suspicion... and fear. So much so that plenty of them headed in doors.
"What's with all the staring?" Something isn't right.
"You are Thor, God of Thunder. Unfortunately, brother, that comes with a reputation that your past self spent millennia building."
"So everywhere Thor goes... everywhere I go, I'm going to be met with fear and suspicion?" Tyr begrudgingly nods.
"It's unfortunate, but yes." I did not feel like he was telling me everything. Was Thor as bad as everybody says he was?
"Does anybody even know that he died?" I ask, and Tyr continues on without a word. Something really wasn't right with all of this. He's hiding something. "Tyr. I do not take kindly to being lied to."
"Your mother lied to you your whole life. Do you hate her?" Bastard.
"No. She-"
"Then you'll get over it." I grab Tyr by his shoulder and turn him around. "Brother, do not-" I cut him off by wrapping my hand around his throat.
"Do not toy with me. I will have my answers." Tyr clamps his hand on my wrist and I am preparing myself for a fight with a God of War. I might just be a bigger idiot than I give myself credit for. My focus is slightly taken off Tyr when I hear the whispers of the crowd in the market we were standing in. They are scared that a fight will break out between us, but more than that, they are scared that we are here to cause trouble for them. Which makes me torn between continuing my assault on my half-brother, for whatever it is the Aesir have done to these people, and stopping my actions before things get out of hand... I chose the latter. Releasing Tyr's neck, which prompts him to let go of my hand as he stares at me with bewilderment.
"I'm not lying to you. Your reputation does precede you... but in truth... the Aesir are the law in the Nine Realms. Just like any population that has held rebellions, they remember the wars. Thor died, so you have no memory of it. Maybe you dream of your old life here and there, but you don't know what we all went through." I nod my understanding. I'm still unsure if what he's telling me is the whole truth, but his explanation seems reasonable. Midgard has it's own history with war that has left a bitter taste in the mouth of humanity.
"I apologize for assaulting you. I shouldn't have lost my temper." I hear more whispers from the crowd. Most couldn't believe that we didn't come to blows. Other's couldn't understand why I was apologizing. My old self must of been such a bastard.
"Tyr, you son of a bitch! How's ya doin'?" A gruff and low voice booms from across the market, drawing my attention to my right. I see a bald Dwarf with a thick beard, wearing some pieces of armour over a mix of leathers and cloth. He's a bit filthy from the looks of it, but the most jarring thing about him is that he's got blue skin.
"I am well, Brok. I see you are hard at work as always?" The Blue Dwarf waves his hand and chuckles.
"Hard to do much work around here when you have the God of War causing a ruckus near your place of business, you one-handed cocklump." The air suddenly became so tense that I felt as if I was being strangled. My mouth hung agape at the audacity, finding myself respecting The Dwarf while also fearing for his life. It was only a moment later that Tyr laughed hardily, leaned down, and slapped Brok on the arm, who was also laughing. Like that, the tension was cut, the crowd relaxed, and the hustle and bustle of day to day life continued.
"Speaking plain as always, I see. Never change."
"Well someone's gotta tell the truth around here..." Brok pauses as his head drifts towards me. "...where did that come from?" His left blue hand raises as he aims a finger in my direction. I turn my head behind me and upward to see if he was talking about some flying creature, but found only the blue canvas of Nidavellir's sky. It dons on me that he is pointing at me, and I turn with a frown, only to find that he was now circling me.
"What in the Hel is it anyway?"
"That is my brother, Brok." The Blue Dwarf does a full rotation, before standing in front of us again. His eyes narrowing as he stares at me.
"Well fuck me! Is that Thor I'm lookin' at? You look younger than you were when you first lifted Mjolnir. Long time no see, you big idiot!" Once again, the crowd grows quiet, as the tension in the air becomes thick. Only this time, I could practically feel the dread radiating off of everybody in the market.
"Brok."
"It's fine, Tyr. He doesn't know me. The new me. The old me is dead." The silence persisted, and I could hear Tyr take a sharp breath. So that answers my earlier question. Brok, seems unfazed by this.
"Dead?" He looks troubled by this news for a moment, stroking his beard while looking between the distant mountain tops and me. "That explains a lot. You're a bit wider than your previous half. More barrel chested, and you actually look like a man instead of a pretty boy with blond hair."
"Thor was blond?" Brok nods.
"Not to mention, you've been gone for so damn long that everything's gone cock-eyed all over."
"You're not afraid of me?"
"Why the fuck would I be scared of you? I made your hammer you, idjit. Well, me and my brother that is." He made my hammer? Oh... ooooh. Now I realize just who I am talking to. My mouth hangs agape once more.
"Uh, Tyr. Is he okay?"
"It would appear that no matter which Thor you are speaking to, he is not used to being spoken to in plain terms. Your honesty is stunning him. As it does with many." Brok snorts as I finally manage to speak.
"You're Brokkr Huldra! Brother of Eitri Huldra!" I can not contain my excitement. I am meeting a legendary blacksmith after all.
"He goes by Sindri now, but you're correct."
"Where is your brother?" Tyr asks.
"Don't ask." Brok turns away from us and begins to walk towards what I can clearly see is a smithy. "Follow me."
"Earlier you said that 'everything has gone cock-eyed all over.' What does that mean?" Brok snorts again and hocks a black loogie onto the cobblestone beneath us. It is so large that I am able to have the mind to avoid stepping in it.
"Where to start?"
"Brok, we are not here for story time." Brok eyes Tyr for a moment over his shoulder, who is shooting a death glare at the blunt Dwarf, before Brok turns away, shaking his head, groaning and grumbling.
"Fine, cliff notes. As it were. The Elves, Dark and Light, are at war again, and have been for centuries. I know, the 'elegant' peoples are known for spilling each others blood, but when you were around, they would take breaks. Vanaheim has had some corruption plaguing it's lands for at least a century, barely held at bay by the Vanir. Midgard, well, look at the way your dressed. You've been their recently, I'm sure you can see how cocked up that place has gotten. Helheim seems to be having trouble keeping the dead behind it's gates, because recently Draugr have been coming out of the word work all over the place. To make matters worse, The Giants-"
"Enough." Brok stops cold in his rant. The silence remaining as we reach his smithy, and he moves around a table with some smithing implements on it.
"I guess big brother wants to be the one to tell you. Just get it over with so we can stop worrying about Ragnarok biting at our damned heels."
"We are. We intend on heading to Vanaheim after our stint here." Brok chuckles as he rubs the back of his head.
"You fuckers are lookin' to gear up, eh? S'pose I can throw a little something together."
"I don't need anything. Thor here does. As you can clearly see, he is unarmed, and unarmoured. I wish to change that." Brok nods as he turns his head towards me.
"I can do that. You look bulkier than the last Thor. A bit taller to... alright. Got it." I raised a brow.
"You got it? You aren't going to take any measurements?"
"I just did!"
"You didn't even pull out any measuring tape."
"What's measuring tape?" Oh my gods.
"Are you really just eyeballing it?"
"Never been wrong before! Now quit questioning my methods and tell me what weapon you want. And don't ask for guns! You want long range you get bows, crossbows, or throwing weapons. Maybe a magic cannon."
"Oh. Uh... I hadn't thought about it." Thinking through all the possibilities was a little overwhelming under the pressure of being on a time crunch. Though I seemed to be the only one that cared about how long we were taking to get going.
"How about an Axe? You liked those as a kid. In fact, I have a great design in mind."
"Sounds, good." I nod.
"Brok, one last thing. Thor is still coming into his powers. Think you could..."
"Say no more. I gotcha. Now, is there anything else?"
"Aye. If you have any spare weapons on hand for training it would be appreciated. I'm not going to bother to ask if you have spare armour."
"Actually, I have some pieces. Give me a second." Brok ducks under his table, and I raise a brow. The table was simple and had four legs, with no cover blocking the view from one side to the other from underneath. So when I lean down to see what he was doing under the table, I noticed that he was gone.
"What the Hell? Where'd he go?" Tyr chuckles as I stand and face him. "What?"
"Dwarven magic. They are a special folk."
"You seem fond of them. Especially, Brok." He nods.
"Brokkr Huldra will always have my respect and admiration. He speaks plain. Many, too many, do not share that quality with him." I understand where he's coming from. Deception is all too common in life.
"Here we are." Upon hearing Brok's voice, I turn to see he has returned, and is placing armour pieces on the table. There were vambraces, made of leather bindings with a metal plate that covered the outer-forearm and back of the hand. The leather was a brown colour, and the metal plate was a metallic grey. There was a shoulder pauldron, not too large, same colour as the metal on the vambrace, and a pair of greaves.
"And the weapon." Reaching down, Brok pulls from under the table what looked to be a simple battle axe. "Nothing special about this equipment, but it should work well enough for training."
"Thank you." Brok nods to me as he turns away and begins to work in his smithy.
"How long until we must return, old friend."
"If you're looking to fix the mess that's accumulated since old Thor's been gone, then I'll get this done by tomorrow afternoon." I whistle at the estimated time.
"That's fast." I remark.
"Yeah well, I was working on some stuff that I'm going to make some adjustments on. I'll even add some enchantments."
"Alright, how much do I owe you?"
"I will pay for Brok's fine work." Tyr pulls out a sack of what I assume is coins of some kind, and places it on the table. "Thank you Brok."
"You can thank me by keeping your word, God of Justice." Both men share a look that I can't discern, outside of it being a profoundly intense stare. They were having a whole conversation, and I didn't even know it.
"I will." Brok hums to himself before looking towards me. Something in his eyes has changed. He seems more judgmental as he eyes me up and down.
"Why don't ya go put that on over yonder, by the pond. Swing yer axe a bit, and try not to take anybody's head off. I need to talk to Tyr fer a moment." Given how uncomfortable I was with his stare, I agreed.
"Of course. Thank you for this." I bow my head slightly as I take my equipment and leave. I notice that a few villagers are staring at me again, but this time in bewilderment. I have no idea why they are, but it is starting to get irritating.
Once I reach the pond, I begin fumbling with the few armour pieces I was given, opting to just fasten them to my normal clothing. As I am doing that, I can pick up Tyr conversing with Brok.
"You know I don't feel good about this." Tyr states in an almost pleading manner.
"I don't care. The last time you were here, you promised to make things right. I promised I'd never make another weapon for-"
"Not so loud. We need to focus on the real threat here. Thor is-"
"Hey there!" I nearly jump out of my skin at the suddenly loud cheery voice. It didn't help that it belonged to a giant of a woman. "My name is Gudrun. What's yours?"
Gudrun is about 7'4, making her breasts about eye level for me. I can feel my cheeks warm up as I realize when looking up to meet her gaze I had lingered maybe a little too long on her chest. She has a shapely body. She is wearing a form fitting green and brown dress, with a slit up the side of the skirt to allow freedom of movement for her muscular legs. She has bracers around her forearms, and leather boots. While equipped with a quiver of arrows and a large bow on her back. Her caramel skin is smooth. She has a square jaw and a pointed chin. Her lips are full, with the top lip completely painted gold, with her bottom lip having a single gold line painted in the centre. This brings out her yellow eyes. She has strawberry blonde curls that reach down to her back, with the left side of her hair being kept in braids. She was carrying a sack in her left hand, while her right was placed on her hip. She looked to be older than me, but I wasn't sure how much older.
"Uh, hello. I'm Erik... um. Gotta ask. Were you hunting in that dress?" She nods her head vigorously.
"A lady can be pretty and dangerous at the same time. Don't you think?" She bats her eyes at me and I'm suddenly confused but extremely attracted to her.
"True. I'd say beautiful, but that's just me." She giggles at this and I can't help but find myself thrown for a loop as to where she came from or why she came up to me.
"You look like you're from Midgard. Is that right?" I nod. "Oh that's wonderful! I could tell by your attire that you had to have been from there. Not to mention you seem to be struggling with those pieces of armour. May I inspect your clothes? I'll help you put on your equipment in exchange?" What an odd request.
"Uh, sure?" The woman places her sack down on the ground and steps over to me, taking my armour from my hands. She crouches down and runs her hands along the material of my jacket, before opening it up to see the inside. She hummed to herself as she did. Her beautiful smile depicting her joy at being able to inspect my clothing.
"May I ask, why the interest in my clothing?"
"Oh, you probably think I'm nuts." Her hands move from my jacket to my pants, and get dangerously close to my crotch. "I am a leather worker, tailor, seamstress, as well as a hunter. I use every part of the animals I hunt. The way my father taught me to. In order to respect them. I also have a fascination with Midgardian fashion and style. Each realm is different in it's own way, with some similarities, but Midgard has evolved beyond the rest. The ever shifting changes to their culture is a marvel."
Her hands glide down my legs, and resting on the hem of my cargo pant leg. Then her hand goes back up and she places them in my back pockets, and smirks to herself before removing them and going for the front pockets. Her right hand found my member, which was stiffening the longer she stayed crouched in front of me, running her hands all over. She blushed, but her smirk remained as she looked up at me with a suggestive expression. The whole thing had me excited and nervous all at once.
"My apologies. Unless of course, you want me to keep going." She begins gliding her hand back and forth through the material and over my dick, making me rock solid in seconds. "Your cock would suggest you do."
"We are in public."
"We can take this somewhere private, if you wish." I have never been so flushed and confused in my life. Part of me wanted to agree and run off with her, and another was reminding me that I needed to prepare for the events in Vanaheim. A more devilish part of me wanted to take her right there.
"I'm starting to think this was your plan all along." I growl at her. She giggles.
"Mmmaybe. My you are large, in more ways than one. For a Midgardian that is... Anyway, I've never been with a Midgardian before. I'd be remiss in missing my chance to seduce you. Not that I am not truly interested in you're clothing, I'd just like to take them off of you first. Better to inspect them." While her hand continued to stroke my member through my pants, her other hand began to play with her breasts through her dress. I am overwhelmed over this sudden shift in events. I did not have sex on the mind at all today, and now I was getting a handy through my pants from a Jotnar in another realm.
"Though I've never been with a Jotnar before, I'm going to have to postpone."
"So you and I will have a rendezvous later then?" She asks as she removes her hand from my crotch and places her tits right against the imprint in my pants, rubbing her self up and down on me. I nodded vigorously, not wanting to make a mess of my clothes before training. To which she stops, and pulls away.
"I can agree to this. Would you like for me to make you clothing similar to our own?" She begins to pick up my armour pieces, and starts strapping the greaves to my legs. Remembering how Brok eyed me up for my measurements, I'm not surprised that she was able to get an accurate read from having her hands on me.
"That... would be nice. How much?" I can't believe that just happened.
"No charge, this time. Consider it an exchange. You let me inspect your clothing, and I get to make you a new set of clothes. I should point out though, that I'm not a Giant. At least not in the way you believe."
"Oh?"
"Everybody here is a Dwarf. People like me are descended from an ancient union between a Dwarf and a Jotnar." She finishes with my greaves and hands me my shoulder pauldron, before applying my vambraces.
"Oh. That's interesting. I never knew that was even a thing."
"Most Midgardians are ignorant to the realms beyond their own, and believe us to be fairy tales. Not surprising, seeing as how they are almost completely without magic these days." Finishing with my vambraces she stands, and retrieves my pauldron, before fastening it to my left shoulder.
"Well, maybe that will change some day soon." She pauses a moment to shoot me a smile, before returning to her task.
"You are a curious one, Erik of Midgard. Tell me, what is this quest of yours?" She finishes tightening the last strap of my pauldron and gives it a tug, likely to test if it was tight enough. She nods with confidence and stands upright once more, once again causing me to crane my neck to look up at her. I've never had to do that ever in my life. I don't care for it too much, but at the same time, she is an intriguing person.
"I'm to train today for a battle I am likely to be in tomorrow in Vanaheim. Their land is being corrupted, or some such thing. Now I'm looking to head to Vanaheim for the first time in order to help where I can, with a god no less."
"Oh? Which God?" Her demeanour changed slightly from bold, and engaged, to reserved, when I mentioned a god.
"The God of Justice." I try using his more positive moniker to help with her unease, but she takes a step back.
"Thor." At the worst possible moment, Tyr calls my Aesir name, and Gudrun has a look of shock, disgust, and horror on her face. "Quit fraternizing with the locals. We have to prepare."
"Don't mind him. We can talk as long as you li-"
"Ancestors forgive me... I didn't know." She seems to be talking to herself more than anything.
"Hey, it's alright. You did nothing wrong."
"Please don't punish me." She gets on her knees, fear in her eyes and hands clasped together. She bows her head to me and places her hands over her head, begging me. I wasn't even sure why.
"You can take me. Bed me as many times as you want, and I'll make you the finest clothes in all the realms! I swear! Just don't hurt me. Don't hurt my fam-"
"Whoa! Slow down Gudrun. Everything's alright. I'm not going to do anything to you, or your family. You did nothing wrong." After I say as much, she begins to raise her head, before dropping it again. I can see tears fall from her face, and it causes me great pain to see somebody so scared of me.
"Gudrun. Nobody has anything to fear of me." Finally, she finds the strength to raise her head, but she doesn't meet my eyes.
"You aren't angry that I treated you like a common man-toy? That I put my commoner hands on you without your permission?" The stark contrast to the bold, confident, and forward woman I had just met, to this weeping beggar is so jarring, and heartbreaking.
"What? No. Of course not." The look of shock on her face speaks volumes, and I can see that a crowd has gathered. Fear is evident in all of their faces. It sickens me to know that they fear us like this. Something had to have happened. Mother said that Thor was a destroyer. The Norns called me a butcher. What the fuck did we do to the Nine Realms to make them fear us like this?
"You're mercy is a blessing, Prince Thor."
"I am not a Prince. I haven't earned it." Gasps are heard and murmuring begins through the crowd. I look over to Tyr, who seems to be just as stunned, but also agitated at my actions. I give him a death glare, and offer my hand to Gudrun. She looks me in the eye, searching for something. Likely deception if I was to make a guess, before apparently seeing through me, and gaining hope in her eyes. She takes my hand, and I help her stand. When she does, she doesn't stand upright, lowering herself, almost to keep herself shorter than me.
"Stand tall, Gudrun. You are a beautiful hunter, seamstress, tailor, and leather worker. Yes?" She hesitates, but nods, before standing up straight. Clearly nervous still, despite her hoping that I'm not the same way I was.
"Thor. Now isn't the time-"
"I have a message for the Nine Realms. Spread it for me, if you wish. I'll be sure to deliver it personally soon enough." The crowd grows quiet, and I keep my hand on Gudrun's, shaking from having to speak in front of so many people. I didn't normally like speaking in public, but I had no choice in this matter. I am pretty sure she noticed.
"The God you fear, Thor Odinson, is gone. He's been gone a long time. I am Erik Torsten. Apparently, I am Thor Odinson, reborn." I don't even know how that is possible, but it seems to be the only explanation for my powers. My strength, my connection to the weather, all of it. The crowd seems just as confused as I was when Tyr first told me who I supposedly was.
"I don't know the whole story about what he was like, other than he seemed like a real asshole. I may have my moments, but I'm going to strive to be a better God then he was. I promise you that much." The villagers gathered exploded into questions and statements, some friendly, and encouraging, some nay saying, and calling me a liar. Most seem to just be wondering what exactly I meant by 'gone' and 'reborn'. It was so loud, it was disorienting.
"SILENCE!" Tyr's voice echoes through the mountains. Everybody falls quiet in response to his booming voice. "You will all show him the respect he deserves!"
"He's a killer!" One Dwarf shouts from the crowd.
"You Aesir are all the same!"
"Get out of Nidavellir!" Some of the Dwarves are getting rowdy, while others are trying to calm their neighbours, or just plane get out of dodge. I felt Gudrun's hand tighten around mine, which drew my attention to her. She was clearly scared about what was about to happen, but her hand was reaching for her bow. She met my gaze, and froze.
"Why are you reaching for your bow? We don't mean you-"
"We are here to protect you. If it weren't for us-"
"This is what we think of your protection!" I didn't see it, but something wet hit something solid, before hitting the pavement. As I turn my head to discern what it was, I see a tomato on the ground, and a red smear on Tyr's face and armour. He seethes as he draws his rather large blade, wielding it in his left hand, and begins rushing the crowd.
My body reacts on it's own. Letting go of Gudrun's hand, I charge towards the crowd myself. They are fleeing in terror, save for one young man that is frozen with fear. Just as Tyr lifts his blade to strike the boy I throw my axe. It manages to collide with Tyr's blade on the way down, while simultaneously the boy ducks his head, finally getting that instinct to take cover. The result is the blade narrowly misses cleaving him in twain, before becoming lodged into the cobblestone. When I reach them, Tyr turns to me in anger, swinging his blade in a blind rage. His anger is nothing compared to how livid I am to see him attempt to cut down an unarmed kid no older than me. So mid horizontal swing, I grab his wrist stopping his strike dead, before I drive my fist into his face and back into a fruit stand.
Most of the crowd stops yelling and running for cover, some still head in doors, while the young man I just saved falls to his knees, the shock and adrenaline leaving his body. I turn to look at Gudrun, who has an arrow knocked and ready to fire, pointed at me. I can see she is uncertain of what to do now that I see her pointing her weapon at me, before I raise my hand to her, and lower it. She understands my meaning, and withdraws her bow. Releasing the breath she was holding while trying to make a decision. I then hear Tyr stand up. I turn to look at him. He is unhappy.
"You dare!"
"What did I just finish explaining to everybody here! That wasn't just for their ears Tyr, it was for yours! It's for any that will hear it! I am there protector! There champion! I am not a butcher! Or a destroyer!" Tyr picks up his sword and storms towards me. I stand my ground, unarmed and ready to punch him again. If I had to rip that sword out his hand and drive it into his chest, I would. Consequences be damned.
He stops himself before he does or says anything stupid however, and looks around. The fog of war that was clearly in his suddenly red eyes, seems to clear, and his blue orbs return to him. He studies the crowd, the young Dwarf's mother runs up to him crying, and holds him tight. Tyr sighs, lifting his blade, and placing it on his back. There is no sheathe for the weapon, it appears to just stick to him. He let's out a sigh before shaking his head.
"I am sorry, brother. You are right."
"Don't be sorry. Be better. I mean seriously. You just charged a kid with Tyrfing you fucking lunatic." Turning back towards the crowd, I lift my hands in surrender. "I apologize for Tyr's behaviour. He won't do that again. Right?" I turn back to him expectantly, and he nods.
"Frode! What the fuck was that kid! You ain't living up to your name by doing stupid shit like that, you idjit. If it wasn't for this here new Thor, you'd have started a war with a tomato, and been cut from nape to sack."
"I'm sorry, Brok! I just-"
"I know why you're angry kid, but we ain't gettin' anywhere holding on to the past. Gotta keep moving forward. Clearly, this new guy seems to mean business when speaking on being a protector. Seeing as how the old Thor is dead, let's give this new guy a chance." The villagers grumble and murmur, a few agreeing that something good might come from trusting me, while others believed that Ragnarok would come before Thor ever turned over a new leaf.
After a few minutes, the villagers dispersed, and I demanded Tyr pay for the fruit stand we broke in our short scuffle. He grumbled about how I was the one who actually broke it.
"Relax, the both of you. I already gave the old goat Tyr's sack of coins."
"Why?" Tyr asks.
"Because, you fucking half-wit, Thor just earned his keep with me. If he keeps it up, I won't charge him for any future work. Since he's the one getting the armour and weapon, I can trust he isn't going to use it on an upset teenager. As for you, you scap-sucker, you're getting charged double if you ever come back for any work. I'm sure my brother will be obliged to do the same."
"Damn." I respond. Tyr simply takes a beat after my response to Brok's announcement, before nodding his head.
"That is justice for my actions, I suppose. I can only thank Thor for stopping me before making a terrible mistake." He raises his hand and rubs his jaw. My right hook must of packed a wallop to knock a god off his feet.
"The fact that your brother isn't in full control of his power, and can knock you of all people on your ass, is impressive! I just hope when he comes fully into his godhood, that he knows not to repeat history." With that, Brok turns away from us and heads back to his forge. "Now go train like you said you wanted to. I've got work to do."
With things quieting down, Tyr turns away and beckons for me to follow. Having retrieved my battle-axe, I hold it by my side and follow closely behind him, before turning back to look at Gudrun, who was staring at me from her shop. I'm not sure what to expect the next time I see her, but I hope that at least we can be on good terms. I would like to see what she can make.
After walking down the path we used to enter the village, Tyr leads me to a clearing where we have the space to train. Gestures for me to stop following him, which I do, and he continues on for another ten feet before turning to face me.
"Why'd we leave the village?" I asked.
"Because it would be inappropriate for us to train for battle in a place where I, an Aesir and a god, have caused turmoil."
"You know, I'm getting fed up not knowing why everybody is afraid of us. You care to explain that?" Tyr draws his blade, and stares at it for a moment, before locking eyes with me again.
"No."
"Of course not." I scoff.
"You will learn in due time. For now, just know that Thor isn't solely responsible for the reputation he has. The writings of our history on Midgard are skewed, as I've said before, but it is true that all the realms were at war with each other at one point or another. The Aesir ended up winning that war, and then had to maintain the peace we strove for. We were not kind. Thor was not kind. Things have changed, but growth is slow. Now, we are reaping what we have sown. But enough of this history lesson. We need to prepare for tomorrow." I sigh, knowing that Tyr is likely going to avoid any other questions I have, before sliding into a stance for battle. Tyr's eyebrows raise as he slides into a stance of his own, but he doesn't say anything.
"So what's the first le-"
"Fight for your life!" Tyr rushes forward, his sword in a reverse grip. I'm taken by surprise by his speed, but I weave out of the way of his first strike, causing me to question if this is training or if he was trying to kill me for real after what happened in the market. I go for a swing of my own but he deflects it and kicks me in the stomach so hard, that I can feel it. I haven't been hurt by people in years. Not like that. His kick sends me stumbling back, but I maintain my footing and prepare for Tyr's next strike.
He tries to swing down on me in a vertical arc, but side step to the right, and use my left hand to punch him. This time, he barely ducks under the blow as he sweeps my legs out from under me, causing me to crash to the dirt below me. I go to move but the point of his sword is placed against my throat, and he looks at me with a laser focus, studying me, before he smirks.
"Your stance, your movements, and even your ability to take advantage of the opening on my left when I'm finishing a strike. Did your mother train you?" Tyr's tone speaks volumes as to how pleased he was with the revelation that I was a decent fighter.
"A bit, yes. However, she hesitated more and more as I got stronger in teaching me. She mainly didn't want me to fight, so I could hide my strength and live a normal life. Much to her chagrin, I'd either end up displaying my strength by helping somebody, surviving what should have been fatal accidents, or causing weather storms so often that she would move us. I didn't know until yesterday that was because you guys were looking for me."
"I see." He seems to ponder something as he pulls his blade away, and steps back. "It appears you may be accessing your training from your past life. Your stance was too similar to how you used to fight, and for the lack of practice, too smooth. Still needs work however. Perhaps, the more you fight, the faster you'll grow in your capabilities." I stand, and as I do, he kicks me in the head, sending me to the ground.
"What the fuck was that?!"
"Don't trust that your opponent will have the same honour as you. Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst." Without responding, I kick Tyr in the dick, causing him to double over in pain, before standing up, and whacking him in the side of the head with the flat end of my axe.
"Good advice."