Prologue
Outside, the wind howled
For the better part of the last hour, a storm had taken its fury upon the abbey and unleashed it ill temper without mercy. The abbey, a monstrous construct of stone and brick had housed generations of the nobility residing within. Lightning snapped in the distance, thunder rumbled in synch with it and lit the inside of the library at the abbey, white and stark against the golden glow of the fire lit within.
The fury of the elements was still there, but it was fading.
Odin Borson sat within, contemplating the fact that even his constant reading of the arcane lore of ancient civilizations was no longer enough to keep him from the stubborn case of ennui that had over taken him.
His attention was only taken by the bleak and dismal weather that was hitting his lands outside and the quiet thumping of his dog, Fenrir’s tail upon his carpets. The crackling of the fire was a gentle thrum of sound behind him and he was listening quietly to the tapping rain and the whistling wind.
He was sure the storm wouldn’t let up for another few hours and surely, soon enough, he would be joined in this room, by his dutiful wife.
His sons, the eldest, Halvor was on his tour of the Continent with his young tutor and taken his youngest, Hodor, with him on the expedition.
Odin Borson, Earl of the land of Asgard, was surprised by how quiet his halls now were. He had only his wife and Fenrir as company as most of his staff avoided him as much as they could.
Beside him, on the floor, Fenrir whined and Odin lowered the book he had in his hand to give him a look.
“The problem is too much reading rather than a lack of it, I believe” he told him “mayhap it is time that we hunted again, aye?”
Fenrir was eager to that and thumped his tail once more on the carpets to give his accordance with his idea.
“Unfortunately” Odin stood from his chair and went to get some brandy “there is nothing of interest to hunt in these woods, since the cold months are coming. I guess we will just have to make do”
He poured himself some of the drink and saw Fenrir looking up in curiosity.
“Nay, friend” he said “this is not for you. your wisdom, I will take, however”
He came back to rest in his previously occupied chair and sat with a heavy sigh to look out the window again.
“I must find a way to entertain myself or I will end up at a grisly little character in a gothic novel” he told Fenrir “do you agree?”
Fenrir’s ear twitched and Odin suspected he had even less interest in those sorts of books than the lost himself.
“I can imagine myself walking through the halls, moaning and groaning as though I was a ghost” he told him “haunting the pretty heroines as they explore my palace”
Once more, Fenrir deemed his words unworthy and closed his eyes.
Odin glanced at his bookshelves, realizing they didn’t interest him either.
He truly hoped this sensation would pass him and soon. Otherwise it will have settled deep into his bones. He took another sip of brandy and watched the rain pelt the glass of his window again.
Fenrir stirred and raised his head. He didn’t look at Odin this time, his gaze was on the window, outside.
“Are you bothered by the storm?” Odin asked “Don’t be, you’ve seen worse”
As had Odin, since this dog was nearly as old as he was – in his own canine years.
Fenrir ignored him
He heaved a leisurely effort and stood, motionless, for a few seconds. Then he padded to the window to look out.
Odin frowned at his alert air and realized that someone was approaching the Asgard Abbey.
In the middle of the night.
In the worst storm of the season.
“Impossible” Odin said “No one comes here without an invitation from me”
He stood, too, going to stand by Fenrir and surely, upon the next flash of lightning, he saw lightened on the pathway to his house, a carriage rushing towards his home. The sound of its approach followed not seconds after and Odin realized that someone truly had the unmitigated gall to approach him at his home at this hour, without an invite.
“Bloody damn hell” Odin grasped his glass a little bit tighter “whoever it is will no doubt wish to have a bed in my home for the night, Fenrir.”
Fenrir was focused on the approaching carriage.
“But Heimdall will turn him away, I am sure” Odin took another sip from his drink.
Heimdall was one of his most trusted staff members and had been here almost as long as Odin had been. He knew how to handle unwanted guests better than most.
He knew that the Asgard nobles were inhospitable in the best of days.
It did not make well for a social life.
Fenrir began to rumble. It was not his welcoming growl, either, more like a question about who dared to come here at this hour and why. One that Odin shared, too.
Outside, the carriage came to a halt.
Hooves danced upon the ancient stones of his home and voices called out from down below.
A couchman shouted demands for help with the horses and another voice yelled louder.
“Move yer arse!” a very, very familiar voice spoke “The Lordship needs to be woken.”
Odin stilled.
He knew that voice.
Fenrir’s ears perked and he looked out of the window as, in the darkness, lit by the flashes above, a cloaked figure ran through the doors and into the home.
Reluctantly, Odin placed his drink aside and strode to the door, Fenrir at his heels.
Down below, the scene of chaos the carriage brought was slowly being tackled and Odin went to receive his guest.
The ‘guest’ had on a many caped great coat and upon seeing him down in the first floor lobby, Odin couldn’t hold back a groan.
Thrym looked every bit the ragged man he’d been when Odin last saw him.
His silver and grey flecked hair was damp, his mustache, which was always proudly groomed was now a mess and his eyes looked tired.
He was shaking out his great coat when he gazed upon Odin and bowed his head in respect
“Lord Asgard”
“Aye” Odin descended the stairs, Fenrir by him
He kept him calm with a hand on his broad head but Thrym still eyed him warily.
Good, Odin thought.
Thrym had a nasty habit of plucking other people’s possessions without warning.
“Do tell me” Odin’s voice was quiet, but not lacking authority “what brings you here, to my home, at this hour, uninvited?”
Thrym looked regretful to what he was about to say, but he held his coat in his hands and looked at him.
“My lord” he spoke, his voice shaking with sadness “Balder was killed abroad”
Odin froze.
His eyes widened for a moment before he looked upon this man again, as though in disbelief at what he was saying.
“I beg your pardon?” he asked
“Balder” Thrym said “was on an expedition close to Jotunhiem. He and his men were ambushed and killed. We do not know why or who did it, but I fear I, myself, saw his body.”
Odin’s chest hurt as he looked at this man.
Grief was deep inside him but he was not to show it.
Not here, not anywhere.
Most certainly not before his wife, who would only hurt him with her indifference and relief.
“I see” Odin said “and what of …”
“His brother, I do not know” Thrym’s face was depressed “no one had seen him these past seven years”
“Is he alive?” Odin asked
“No news of his death has reached us so we assume he is” Thrym told him “my lord, my condolences …”
“Aye,” Odin cut in sternly, then looked at Heimdall “see that he gets good rooms and hot food before he rests. Take care of the others as well”
“Aye, my lord” Heimdall replied
“Good, man” Odin turned back to Thrym “Now pardon me, I have to get to bed, the hour is late, as it is”
“Of course” Thrym said, his gaze uncertain “I am sorry I bring bad news”
“It is all well” Odin told him, turning back “Fenrir, come”
Fenrir’s claws clicked on the floor as he followed him, his tail wagging.
Odin gave no indication of what he felt, not to his dog, not to his staff and not to his wife when she asked him why he was so late in joining her in bed.
“No reason, dear” Odin pulled his covers up “fare well in your sleep”
She muttered something unintelligible and gave him her back, falling asleep in minutes.
Odin stayed awake, his thoughts racing with each other, wrapping around one another as he went from past to present, to a future where he was lacking a son on his deathbed.
Or two, if he was precise.
Thor and Balder, his sons, borne by the woman he’d loved so long ago, born within minutes of each other, identical miracles Odin had held only once in his life before they were taken by chance and circumstance.
Odin closed his eyes then, to realize the catch in his throat and the single tear that slipped from his eye as he gave a shaky breath.
Balder, his beautiful son, was dead.
***
~Seven Years Ago~
“It is highly unlikely that the Lord of Seidr is still untouched” Thrym said “But under your circumstances, I’m certain that you will find yourself able to overlook that situation”
Balder looked at this guardian impassively. His reaction to the news about his future spouse having dishonored himself already was virtually undetectable, a mere tightening of his fingers around his wine cup.
Yet, as a bastard son, who’d been obliged to make his way in the world himself, with his sword and intellect, he’d found it easy to control what emotions he exhibited. He’d become so skilled that many thought he didn’t feel them.
Thrym was included in those people.
“You say he is an heir?” Balder concentrated on the most important aspect of this “he holds lands?”
“Aye”
“Then he will be a suitable spouse”
Thrym was right. As long as the man wasn’t carrying, he didn’t mind overlooking the lack of honor. Especially if it meant he would gain lands of his own.
Lands of his own. The words shimmered before him like a promise.
A place where he would belong; a place where he was not someone’s bastard nor a stain on someone’s reputation. He would find a place where he was not just tolerated or consider temporarily useful because of his kill with a sword. He wanted to live in a place where he had a right to sit in front of his own hearth and fire.
Balder was twenty eight years old. He knew that he would likely never be granted this opportunity again. He had long since learnt to seize whatever chance fate threw his way. This philosophy had helped him a great deal in the past and he knew it would help in the future, too.
“He is now the sole master of the Isle of Seidr” Thrym sipped his wine from his ornately carved silver cup and looked at Balder over the rim “His father, Sir Laufey, a knight much like you, favored travel in intellectual pursuits over anything that had to do over ruling his Isle. Unfortunately, word reached me recently about his demise. He was murdered while on a voyage in Spain”
“There are no other heirs?”
“Nay” Thrym said “Two years ago, Helblindi, Laufey’s elder son broke his neck in a foolish tournament. Loki, the second born, is the only one left. He inherits the manor”
“So as Sir Helblindi’s liege, you have wardship over Loki” Balder said “he will wed to whomever you choose”
“That remains to be seen” Thrym smirked, just a little bit
Balder realized he was concealing a smile. As someone who possessed a naturally serious and restrained temperament, he was not one to show much mirth. He rarely, if ever, responded to jests and japes that had many laughing uproariously.
Not that he minded, his unsmiling countenance complimented his reputation as a ruthless man very nicely. And as a knight, it was a dangerous world for him to go through. Having his own men be wary around him granted him the authority that made him one of the finest knights in the lands.
Balder had been raised by his mother alongside his wayward brother, until the age of eight. During that time, Odin, their father, had been a frequent visitor to his home. They were not allowed to live in the city where Odin did, but he made it a point to visit them every week and give them the care and love they needed.
But when they turned eight, his mother went ill.
There had been a fiercely cruel time for him and his brother, who was a few minutes younger to him. He would never forget his rage nor his fear as he watched his mother get weaker and weaker until, what they all feared happened.
She passed not a week and a half after she took ill and Balder along with his twin brother, Thor, were taken back to the city with their father, to live with him on Asgard abbey.
Odin’s wife, Lady Gaia, beautiful, cold and proud, had no option but to take the boys and tolerate this situation. She was understanding but had not gone out of her way to welcome the two twin brothers into her home.
It made them both deeply aware of their status as outsiders. They missed the contemplative, welcoming environment of their mother’s household immediately. And because of it they both poured themselves into their training, turning their energies to lance and sword. They practiced endlessly for years in their quest for satisfaction.
When they didn’t study, they sought out the solitude Odin’s large library offered them. There, they read anything the librarian, Brother Skurge, had deemed them worthy enough to read.
By the time they were seventeen, they had studied a wide range of subjects. Where Balder stuck to treatsies and mathematics, Thor had turned to further widening his skills with weapons. Balder pondered the theories of Aristotle about the four elements and Thor lunged upon his sparring with anything he could hold.
Balder’s knowledge had little practical use but his training was good enough that he was taken as a knight very quickly. Many powerful men, including Odin himself, had seen promise in him and saw considerable use for a man who knew how to hunt thieves and the like.
Balder was good – Thor was better.
And it was the very first time that the two, on their eighteenth birthday, decided to use their skills to carve out lucrative careers for the two of them.
No one knew that it was Thor, not Balder, who raced upon horses and caught thieves mid run. No one knew that Balder planned and Thor was the predator.
The business of snaring outlaws paid them very well and both of them were adept at it. He was never truly enamored with it, but it was a means to gain them both a good enough living. He could not, however, satisfy the smoldering desire he had for lands of his own.
He wanted to have his own fields, his lands, Thor lived for adventure.
For Thor, it was easy, for Balder, only his liege lord, Odin, could grant him the manor he so desperately craved.
Four days before the last time Balder saw Thor, he was invited to meet with Thrym and was told that whatever he wanted to gain was at his fingertips.
And he sat there, now, at this hour, learning that it was about to be fulfilled. He was about to gain a spouse with a blemished reputation, but vast lands. It was a small price to pay and Balder knew that in this life, nothing came without paying a little bit, at least.
“How old is he?” Balder asked
“Eighteen” Thrym said “I believe”
“And still unwed?” Balder asked “Jotuns wed early, do they not?”
“Some do not wish to” Thrym said “but families find it easier to have their bære wed off as soon as they reach maturity. Jotunhiem has been plagued with many, many people who wish to take them and use them for their gain. Loki was no different and fell prey to one of the vassals, who are vying for his land”
Balder frowned “He seduced him?”
“From what I hear,” Thrym said “Sir Byleistr, a knight from his neighboring isle, virtually kidnapped him and held him at Helheimr manor for four days”
“Did he force him to accept him as a husband?”
“Aye, Loki, however, refused”
Balder raised a brow at that. That was news. He was not surprised by the tale, there were such for years, ever since bære existed. They were hunted and kidnapped for sport. Usually, they always wed their captors for the sake of honor, very few had the temerity to refuse marriage after having lost their virginity and reputation to a knight or lord.
“He’s very unusual” Balder said
“Aye,” Thrym said “and he’s very unusual.”
“How so?” Balder asked “is he ill formed?”
“Nay, but will that be a problem?” Thrym asked
“No, only his lands interest me” Balder gazed at the fire in the hearth
“I thought as much”
“I merely wish to know a little bit more” Balder justified
Thrym moved his hand a little dismissive gesture, the gold and red embroidery on his sleeve gleamed in the fire light.
“As I said, there are some who do not wish to wed and Loki is one of them” he told Balder “he only agreed now because he knows he must”
“For the sake of his holdings?” Balder asked
“Aye” Thrym said “the Isle of Seidr is a ripe, plump bird, all for the plucking. It needs protection. He writes about the other problems he has had with Sir Byleistr, who, in addition to the kidnapping has begun to harass his shipments as of late. He and his band of men steal or destroy the goods he sends to London.”
“So he needs a husband who can defend his manor and you wish to have an isle that is profitable to you” Balder surmised
“The isle itself is not large” Thrym said “they produce enough wool and crops to form a steady stream to the cities but that is not the true source of wealth”
He turned from his spot by the fire and went to an embroidered bag he’d placed on his desk.
“This is the true secret of Seidr’s wealth”
He tossed the bag to Balder, who caught it. The scent of herbs and flowers wafted from it and he pulled out a small, silver vial. Even without lifting the stopper, he could smell the lush, rich and complex aroma that came from it.
“Perfumes?” he asked
“Nay” Thrym smiled “Potions. For our dear Loki is considered a master sorcerer. He blends them together for all sorts of things. They sell out within minutes whenever they are brought to town.”
“I see” Balder said “tis an island of flowers and herbs and he makes potions from them”
“He does” Thrym sat back down
“I have no knowledge about gardens and herbs, how am I to help him?”
“You guard the lands, that is all” Thrym smiled “you are quick to learn in any case, you will do well”
“I protect the lands and he brings in the money” Balder said “all in all, not a bad bargain”
“Mayhap” Thrym grinned “there is competition”
Balder frowned “Who?”
“Sir Byleistr” Thrym said “he wants that land as well and I think he will try to kidnap him once more”
Balder hummed “Then I will give him no chance to. When do we wed?”
“As soon as you agree to it” Thrym told him “my only question is what will you do with your home and brother?”
“Thor will come with me, of course” Balder said “and the home holds no meaning, it was never mine”
“I see” Thrym chuckled “well, be off, then. Give your brother the news as well as your father and depart as soon as you can. Lord Loki will likely be waiting”
“Of course” Balder smiled and got to his feet “I assure you this match will go well”
“I wouldn’t have asked you if I already didn’t know”
And just like that, the chivalrous hero of the lands got himself the home he always craved for and a place for him to call his own.
~Present Day~
The fog has coalesced around the abbey and Odin felt The next day become colder than he thought possible.
The reality of Balder’s death was hard on his head, so much so that he couldn’t lift his fork to eat the next morning at the breakfast table. Nothing seemed to matter to him that day. Not Gaia’s talking, not his clothing, it didn’t matter than his cravat wasn’t the best today or that his linen shirt was ruffled more than usual.
He felt empty inside, hollow and gone.
A spasm of pain went through his body and he stifled a groan before he abruptly stood from the breakfast table, startling Gaia, who was unused to him moving so quickly.
“Beg pardon” he said “there is something I must do”
Odin didn’t hear what she said, but the urge to leave the house was strong in him. His footsteps were sure and even though he knew he would be unwelcome, he took his carriage and his horse and rode through the city to the one house that was close enough for him and too far at the same time.
There was darkness and brooding within him now and he went through what words he would recite when he got to his destination.
Odin had not visited this home in over six months, his drastic and sudden visit would no doubt spark confusion, but he didn’t care.
He owed this.
The clattering of his carriage penetrated the thick fog that had taken over the country today. There were few people on the roads and save for a few who were still looking for their ways home after a drunk night spent in the city.
Or a passionate one.
He remembered when he was similar to the ghostly shapes walking through the fog.
He remembered how one such night was the reason he had two sons before he was ready to marry. Clothes ruffled, cravat undone, he’d walked from the home of Lady Frigga to his own many, many times before he was wed off.
She, however, remained unwed and strong till the end of her life.
Leaving behind two, beautiful sons that Odin had raised the best he could. He had tried, that was his fault, according to Balder not enough. He’d always had reasons not to visit when they turned nineteen and took the house where he was going.
They’d waited many, many nights for him to have dinner with them as they had been promised. The invitations were plenty in the beginning but few and far in between months later and completely stopped a year after.
There had been cool, frozen conversations between him and Balder a few times and a few meetings after he’d been told he was going to wed.
He’d asked after Thor, who had refused to accept the fact that the only family member he cared for, was leaving and left Balder saddened when he vanished for days before his journey to Seidr.
Balder had hoped Thor would be at his ceremony but they hadn’t met after.
Thor returned two weeks after to rent debt and an empty home where he likely dwelled till now.
Odin hadn’t gone to meet him in years.
And Thor had made no effort either.
In the fact that Odin was a failed father, they both agreed.
Odin opened the window to inhale the familiar scent of the orchids that grew around this area. This part of the country side was rich with the aroma and he was bombarded with the memories he’d created when he played with his two boys, in these very paths, for hours before he had to go home.
It stirred the depths of his sadness, the loss of losing not only Frigga, but Balder.
It caved his chest in and he felt his eyes water once more as he looked out the window, realizing the cruelty.
Balder was dead.
That was something he didn’t think he would ever have to face.
The house was a small cottage, enough for two and that was it.
The city was not far from here, but the air was so much cleaner. Though Odin had a house in the city, he preferred the clean air when the Seasons were hushed in winter.
Other than the odd ball they had to attend, they were content in their little home, far from the loud city.
The cottage was made of grey stone and Odin frowned when he saw, not Thor, but three young children playing outside in the yard.
For a moment, he wondered if Thor had wed and bred without telling him but that thought came to a halt when he saw their father, who was rolling around in the fog and chill with his children as they tried to catch one another.
Their faces were flushed when exertion and all four of them looked up when his expensive carriage stopped by.
The children were sent inside to warm up and the father approached them, a frown upon his brow when Odin descended from the carriage to look at the man.
“Good sir” Odin tipped his hat to him “Do you think you could assist me?”
“Of course, my lord” the man said “what do you need?”
Odin looked at the house, taken aback by this situation, his recited words swirled in head a moment before clarity hit him.
“I was just wondering how long you lived here” Odin asked “See, the last time I was here, my – friend lived here.”
“We’ve been here for five years, sir” the man said “it was long empty before.”
“Really?” Odin huffed, disappointment filling his spirit “Oh.”
“Is everything alright, my lord?” the man asked
Odin looked at him, then smiled “Aye, thank you for your help, I will be on my way”
The father nodded “Good luck in your search”
Odin raised a hand to him and went back to the carriage, telling them to take him home.
He closed the door and sighed softly, not knowing what to do with his disappointment. It was deep inside him, fixed in his blood and he knew that the last time he saw Thor was truly the last time he would ever see him again.
***
Moonlight suited him.
Cloaked in the silver light that illuminated the meadow, the unwanted son of Earl Asgard looked as mysterious and as dangerous as a legend come to life.
The silvery light that came from a full moon cast upon the tall grass within the meadow, making it appear as though it was a watery surface which moved with the wind.
He stood in the middle of it, alone, looking up at the moon.
This meadow was his bed for the night and he, one used to the skies as his ceiling, had no problem.
Meadows offered him solace, a place to hide as he hunted. Tonight, no hunt was on. He’d finished it in the evening, been paid the amount for it and shoved the bandit he’d been told to go after into the arms of the officers.
He’d gotten paid, thanked and escorted away.
No one truly trusted a soldier of fortune after all.
No one trusted one who was the fallen brother of one of the greatest Knights in the histories.
A knight who was now the leader of a profitable Isle, far from the lands. A knight who made his father proud and made news whenever he destroyed yet another enemy or pushed back a threat that many couldn’t.
Balder the Brave, Balder the Light, they had called him.
And what a man he was. He was not interested in the money oriented, greedy, grasping brother he’d left behind.
He was above him in every way.
No brother would stoop as low despite the bond they shared. Thor knew he had never been good enough, starting, doubtless, from the moment he chose the blade to the book. He felt the difference between them, in the way Balder always handled the financial matters and always gave Thor just a little bit less than he, himself, took.
It was just enough to leave that niggling sense of wondering in Thor and just enough for it to be ignored. For it would have been petty of Thor to ask him for such a small sum when they would be celebrating a victory.
What truly broke their bond was Balder’s marriage.
Thor had been told in no uncertain terms that Balder expected him to move with him to the Isle. They would have lands of their own and a place to call home.
Thor, who had always wanted to live a free life, away from anyone who judged him, had been ecstatic until Balder revealed that he would be one of his soldiers.
He would have the honor of working under the man he’d worked with for so long.
They had brought down legions of bandits, killers and thieves for years. Balder had never been able to catch them as Thor had. He had never been able to track them or locate them the way Thor did.
He would be honored.
Honored
To work for someone he had always been equal to? Thor had been stunned, he didn’t really know how to take that news.
Balder would command him, control him and likely judge him, knowing how much he hated being confined?
That had been the end for Thor.
Their argument had escalated, Thor had left and when he’d returned, Balder was gone.
He’d assumed he would eventually return but nearly eight years had passed, he’d heard nothing.
True, that he was far from where any news of Balder would circulate, but still. Logically, he knew that his brother would not have a way to contact him.
Emotionally, he still wanted him, Balder, his twin, his other half to be reunited with him. He’d been feeling strangely empty and alone these past months.
Thor Odinson had stopped feeling the sense of loneliness he carried with him. It was his only company on this night.
He exhaled and lay down, feeling comfortable, here, under the open skies, with his cloak as his pillow and his coat upon him.
Both of them were old and musty, but he wouldn’t change them for the world.
They were his partners in all these years, in all his ventures and in all his quests.
This coat and cloak has been with him for a long time.
Thor looked like the vagabond everyone called him. Though he kept his grooming as best he could, he’d let his hair and beard grow over the last years.
He’d tied it in braids to keep it groomed and inoffensive but he’d learnt that it wasn’t his hair that made him so.
His own father and brother left him, how could he not expect the same from people who didn’t even know him?
Thor sighed and studied the skies, watching the stars twinkle and shine up above.
His mother told him they were promises, sworn prayers she’d set for him and Balder in the skies. He used to believe that he could touch them and get what he wanted, a desire so secret and deep that he denied it even now. She’d said that one night, he would reach out to point to a star and it would fall for him, giving him what he craved.
He has wanted a home, much like Balder did.
He’d wanted a place to belong and when the world rejected him, he made places wherever he went.
Every night, as a child, Thor had reached out and pointed at a star, thinking he could make it shoot down and grant his wish. It never did and eventually, he’d stopped the childish act.
But tonight, as he stared up at the starry sky and the beautiful moon so bright, Thor couldn’t resist.
He hadn’t done it in years but Thor reached out and picked a star, placing his finger before it so it vanished from his sight, then pulled back.
It was still there.
Thor sighed, turned on his side and closed his eyes as he lay with the earth and grass around him.
It didn’t take him long to find sleep beneath the stars.
He was asleep in minutes and thus missed that up above, high in the night skies and so far from him, the star he’d picked shot across the skies and vanished into the distance.
***
The stables were warm in the morning, which was a blessing and one of the reasons why Thor chose them.
He had money enough for either him or his horse. He wasn’t a cruel man to leave his noble steed in the cold like that.
And with the help and loyalty he’d been given by this animal, there was no way he would put his own comfort before his.
That, and he was sure that if his horse was left in the cold all night, Thor would pay for it. For a horse, Sleipnir had a very emphatic personality.
He knocked on the door of the stables so the stable hand was alerted of his presence.
“Good morning” he said “I’m here to collect”
Thor extended the ticket he’d been given and the body nodded to a stall at the back. He could hear the whinny that Sleipnir gave and walked over to him.
“Greetings” Thor smiled “did you miss me?”
Sleipnir didn’t seem very satisfied with his timing, but nevertheless, he walked out when Thor took him from the stall.
“You have to pay for the food he ate” the stable hand told Thor
“Pardon?” Thor stopped “that was included in the payment I made last night”
“Not when he ate the food the others had, too” the stable hand looked unimpressed “he snuck out of his stall and devoured everything he could”
Thor looked at Sleipnir, who looked rather sated and realized the boy was not lying.
Sleipnir was perfectly capable of doing that.
So, with a sigh, Thor took what little remained in his pocket and handed it to the boy, who all but snatched it from him in a huff.
He didn’t mind, his attention was on Sleipnir, who nuzzled against his shoulder, eager to get out and go to another adventure.
They went through the markets so that Thor could see if there was a bargain for him or not. The town was small but he’d seen kindness in it last night and he hoped he’d get some for himself.
He had a reserve of money that he didn’t want to touch so he would go hungry this morning without the kindness.
He’d had a home before, but lost it when he couldn’t get payments the way he did with Balder. However, he kept something much more valuable to him.
Said something was still walking behind him and Thor turned and rolled his eyes
“Sleipnir!” he snapped “get here, brat!”
Behind him, nosing his way through a cart of fresh, crisp green apples, his noble steed, a fat, chubby round white and grey spotted horse, tossed his head back.
“Have you not eaten enough?” Thor asked “Look at you!”
Sleipnir left out an offended snort and trudged his way over to him, tail twitching angrily.
“Bloody hell, you’re a child” Thor complained, taking a hold of the horse’s chin when he reached him “You ate everything, how can you be hungry?”
Sleipnir whinnied and avoided eye contact, making Thor release him
“Typical” he said, taking a hold of the rope tied loosely around the fat horse’s neck “now come. We are going hunting”
The town was alive and soon enough, Thor did find the promised kindness in the form of a family, who’d seen him last night.
They were wonderfully giving and made a broth and bread for him when he passed. He’s caught a thief here in the town and they were inclined to thank him. Thor, unwilling to use his reserved money, accepted the thank you and gave the children some trinkets he’d been carrying around to sell.
They seemed happy and Thor’s conscious felt easy after taking their meal from them. He wasn’t full by any means, but the biting hunger had faded and he could take Sleipnir and head off once more.
Once he reached the open plains, Thor breathed easier. This was something he and Balder always disagreed on. He preferred to own lands, make his mark in the world while Thor viewed all lands as his. The world was not meant to be marked, he wanted to explore.
Or at least, that’s what he told himself.
He knew that society would never accept the bastard son of an earl. He was a stain before he was born but unlike Balder he was given no chance to improve his life, so he told himself that he like this openness, this freedom.
He didn’t have anything else.
Thor also told himself that the only person who was kind to him was that family, when in reality, more than one woman had been clear about wanting him to stay with them.
He could have, he’d done it in the past, but the feeling of belonging to a family and sitting at a breakfast table with them was a comfort that he himself had wanted.
Even if it was fake and temporary, he’d had it.
He didn’t wish to admit it so he left that town behind and made his way to another, walking with Sleipnir.
He rarely rode his rode, firstly, because Sleipnir was carrying his belongings and secondly because he rarely let him.
Sleipnir was more his partner, his confidant than he was his horse and Thor respected that. In return, Sleipnir gave him the company and companionship Thor didn’t have.
The stoned and wild grass beneath their feet was quiet and other than occasionally eating the grass he walked on, Sleipnir was not inclined to do much. He nudged Thor every now and then when Thor walked too fast for him but stayed obedient otherwise.
A few people passed them on their way out. They didn’t interact save for giving Sleipnir odd looks.
He didn’t blame them, no one had ever seen a horse this chubby. They all had lean looking steeds.
They stopped a few hours later to have a rest, but saw the next town on the horizon. Sleipnir flopped down as ungracefully as possible, laying on his side with his legs sticking out while Thor sat against him. Once he felt Thor’s weight, Sleipnir curled his legs by him and caught his breath, too.
They both were tired.
“So” Thor looked at him as he dug into his bag “oats or chestnuts?”
Sleipnir grunted and nosed his shoulder till Thor dug out the treats and gave him the chestnuts he had with him.
They weren’t warm but he was sure Sleipnir wouldn’t mind with the way he gobbled them up.
He looked to the city again and hoped that he could find a bed and board for the night. The skies were nice to sleep under but Thor wanted the comfort of a soft bedding and realized he might have to dig into his savings after all.
So, with a sigh and a groan, Thor stood after a while and took Sleipnir with him to get him a stable and himself a room in a tavern.
And wondered, perhaps if change was coming for him.