Roughing It
Decades later, when all this has long slipped into the past, Tony finds himself sitting in front of a stranger he'd met earlier that day in the taproom of a rundown tavern. All the golden hues have disappeared from his reality: they have been replaced by long days on the road, the dire need for new jobs, and the knowledge that there is neither a home nor a family waiting for him now.
The tavern, which is called The Green Glade, is an odd place. It is situated in a very remote spot not even close to the main roads of Asgard. The buildings- a main house, a large barn, two stables and a mysterious shed no one except the owners are allowed to enter- are surrounded by a small forest. Only a mud road leads there.
It is a place one needs to be told about and which is not meant to be found, and the customers who frequent it seem to be the kind of people who prefer not to be found, too. Especially not by the authorities.
It is a feeling Tony can understand very well these days.
But today, he seems to have had a stroke of good luck. He'd visited his favourite mushroom patch in the morning and found a rich harvest, especially for this time of the year. So Tony, who always carries two flat baskets in his rucksack for such purposes, foraged happily while remembering the rules Maria and Ana had taught him. He cut the mushrooms at the appropriate height with a knife he'd forged himself in his father's workshop and left enough of them standing so the patch can recover. Encouraged, he proceeded further into the woods and soon had his baskets filled: one with edible mushrooms that would make a great meal and one with a much different kind of mushroom for other, more recreational purposes.
Afterwards, he called on one of the witches he's been doing business with for years and, after he'd accepted a cookie and a mug of goat milk, she was eager to buy both kinds for a good price. 'It's been a cold and wet autumn,' she muttered as she placed a handsome heap of hacksilver on the table. 'And soon, the Solstice will be upon us.'
'Yeah,' Tony said, raking in. He is not a great believer, but he knows what is expected of him. 'May the gods smile upon us for another six months,' he said automatically and the witch started to laugh.
'Good show, my lad,' she said, after having regained her composure. 'But you don't have to act like this when you're around me. I know you're not a believer, and I don't mind.'
Tony stared at her and the witch sighted.
'Now look,' she said. 'I mean it when I say I don't mind. There's no need for you to fear that I'll betray you. Right now, the only thing I care about is sending a raven to my sisters with an invitation so we can make a good meal out of this and enjoy a lovely afternoon together:'
'But...' Tony whispered.
'You go now,' the witch replied. 'Come back next week, I could use some help with the window shutters before winter comes.'
'Sure,' Tony answered and put down the mug. And, having collected his silver, he said his farewells and left, happy to have earned the means to buy a real bed for the night. On his way out, he briefly wondered why the witches always insisted on giving him some damn cookie and a mug of fucking goat milk. He's a grown man after all (although short for an Áss) and not a boy who needs to be comforted or is about to be send to bed.
Some bread and butter, Tony thought, would be great. Maybe a bit of cheese, too. Yeah. But why a cookie? I don't even like sweets that much.
But he also knew he was facing a two-hour walk if he wanted to spend the night at The Green Glade, which was a cheap and familiar place and almost some kind of home by now, and so every single bit of free sustenance was welcome.
---
After nearly an hour into his walk, it started to rain.
Of course it was starting to rain.
Am I coursed? Tony thought and wondered why this kind of stuff was always happening to him: right in the middle of a walk, far away from any kind of shelter, it's starting to rain and within minutes, Tony would be soaked to the bone and probably about to catch the worst cold in his whole life. Or so it usually feels.
The rain fell hard and felt so cold that Tony could already sense the approaching winter in it.
Just as Tony said goodbye to the idea of doing some more foraging today, he suddenly saw a man standing not far away from him and Tony could swear the fellow must have appeared out of thin air.
He was tall and ruggedly handsome with bright blue eyes, a short beard, and long blond hair. He was even more muscular than a warrior needed to be, and now he was waving a ham-sized hand at Tony.
'Hi,' the stranger shouted in a somewhat booming voice that was definitely much louder than necessary, 'hi there!'
Oh for fuck's sake, Tony thought, but then he waved back. Cautiously, of course, but naturally, he would rather not offend a guy that size who just showed up in the middle of nowhere. 'Hi,' he muttered unhappily while approaching the stranger and flashing his best fake smile.
'Hi,' the man boomed back again, also smiling. 'I'm looking for a place to stay tonight. Can you help me, please?'
'What?' Tony asked incredulously. The fellow looked anything but helpless.
'I'll buy you supper if you guide me to a tavern,' he said. 'How about it?'
The temptation was far too great for Tony to resist; the prospect of a free meal and being able to keep some of his silver instead of spending it for food tonight was overwhelming. 'Right,' he replied. 'Deal.'
'Very well,' said the stranger. 'Deal. Now where are we going?'
'Just walk with me, then.' And, while trying hard to look happy, Tony hoped he hadn't made a mistake. 'We'll be there in an hour or so.'
'You are very kind.'
'Yeah,' Tony, who was already fed up with the useless pleasantries, answered. 'Let's just go, shall we?'
'Oh, rather.' And, as the stranger picked up his surprisingly small and shabby looking bundle, the rain stopped and Tony started worrying if someone with so little luggage was really in the position of buying him the meal he'd just been promised.