The Tale of Two Coulsons

2.

Chapter Two:

Within hours, our temporary base was assembled, with guards posted around the perimeter. At the centre the 0-8-4 was lodged into the ground, while various machines and scanners investigated what exactly it was. While my dad oversaw the scientists, I delved into research, having some sort of idea what the object of unknown origin could be.

When I was younger, my father took me to a conference in Copenhagen - which turned out to be extremely dull, I have to say. Despite that, I took a liking to the country and looked into its history and more importantly, the myths and legends of old.

Yggdrasil, the Tree of Life.

Odin Borson, the Allfather of Asgard and his wife, Frigga.

Loki, the Trickster God of Mischief, Lies and Storytelling, and his brother, Thor the God of Thunder.

But what struck my memory was the weapon that Thor wielded. Mjolnir.

A hammer.

I grabbed my book, which held a detailed depiction of the legendary weapon and made my way to the centre of the base. Despite the numerous warnings to not get too close, I crouched next to it, studying the runes and etchings on the metal, which matched my drawing perfectly, and only solidified my theory.

I stood up, ready to report my discovery to my father when I heard the sound of punches and grunts of pain, presumably from the punch.

A few moments later, a tall and muscular blonde man came running around the corner. He was halted in his path by one of the strongest and burliest men we had onsite, but the stranger smiled, undeterred. I stared in shock as the pair wrestled, and after a few suspenseful moments, the blonde intruder emerged from the fight victorious.

He made his way over to the centre of the base - coincidentally where I was still standing - and paused at the sight of me.

"I do not wish to fight a maiden."

Silently, I stepped back, allowing him access. I noted the accent was almost British, or perhaps Australian, and he spoke formally, regally. To have been called a 'maiden' was certainly a new experience for me, though not an entirely unpleasant one. He grinned and stepped forward confidently. I watched, intrigued. The compound waited with baited breath as he grasped the handle of the hammer.

He pulled.

Nothing happened.

The look of distress and grief, the pain he seemed to feel was proof enough. Combined with his ability to defeat the most highly trained agents in the world with minimal effort and his face - he had to be a God to have that jawline.

He screamed to the night sky as he fell to his knees in sorrow. The rain seemed to fall at a faster pace as he sobbed. The legend was true; the sky rained when the God of Thunder cried, which also explained the sudden stormy weather on such a clear night.

I watched with sympathy as he was detained into custody. My dad appeared at the doorway, beckoning me to come inside. "Are you alright? Did he hurt you?" He asked, looking me over for evidence of injury.

"No, he said he didn't want to fight a maiden." I repeated the strange words.

A brief look of confusion passed over my dad's face at the old-fashioned term, but he didn't break his stride. "I'm going to interrogate him. Care to join?"

I shrugged, not having any pressing tasks to attend to. "Sure. I have a few theories I need to test anyway."

Dad lifted an eyebrow but said nothing.