Nine Realms: Gods and Warrior Hearts

Chapter 7

The morning after drinking...

A loud banging on the door made Ard jump out of bed, grabbing the two daggers from underneath his pillow, ready to fight. An automatic reaction after years and years of training. He heard the front door open and familiar steps coming towards his bed chamber. As a female entered, Ard lowered his weapons.

"Do you always have to sleep half naked?" she said as she glanced disapprovingly at his bare upper body, nipped past him and dumped a pile of fresh clothes on the chair at his desk.

"Frigg... what are you doing here so early? And anyway, what's wrong with me sleeping in my undergarments?" Ard stretched and yawned.

The goddess used to be one of his Amms and raised him as if he was her own son by blood. Frigg hadn't aged much since, only a few fine lines around her bright brown eyes gave away the thousands of years she'd been dwelling in this realm, her dark skin still plumb and glowing. She would still bring him his freshly laundered uniforms to his rooms and sometimes leave biscuits and little cakes on his desk. Frigg knew he was a grown up god, self-sufficient and very much capable of looking after himself but she loved the feeling of taking care of him.

"It's eight in the morning my boy...and just imagine you were under attack...waking up like the source created you would certainly make you look like a fool and not like a warrior to be taken seriously. Unless your enemy was young, female and easily wooed - then you might have a slight advantage." She winked at Ard.

"I didn't think it was that late, I need to hurry." Ard quickly put on a pair of dark brown trousers, boots and a white tunic.

All that wine last night had given him a restful night of sleep without vivid dreams and endless pondering over a million questions. It was just what he needed. The past few days had been rather eventful and drinking was a way for the gods to calm their restless minds. Alcohol didn't have the same effect on their bodies as it had on mortals. Their metabolism was way more efficient, which meant that drunkenness was very short lived and without any nasty side effects.

Frigg was watching him.

"What is the matter Ard?"

"I have a few important things to take care of today."

She knew that look in his eyes. He was preparing himself mentally for a difficult task ahead.

"Thank you" he said, kissed her on the cheek and walked out of the room.

"Where are you off to?"

"To see my father."

And with that he was gone.

*******

Ard made his way up to the highest hall in the centre of Valhalla, the residence of his father - Wodran. He couldn't remember the last time he was here, it was that long ago. Before he moved into the north wing, his home was with Frigg. She insisted on him living in her private residence down in the dale after he grew too old to have an Amm in Valhalla. For the few years in between youth and maturity, Ard stayed with her. When it was time to for him to take his place in the cavalry she convinced Asereth to let her come back and work as house keeper for the North Wing. Even though this kind of work was beneath her status she begged the leader of the Elders to let her stay close to Ard and he eventually agreed.

The young god climbed up the gigantic golden spiral stair case located in the centre, thousands of steps leading all the way up to the highest point. He could have taken the shorter route and flown up to the rooftop with Eldri but he was craving the nostalgia of this place. The distant memories of him and his brothers as children running up and down the steps and getting told off by their Amms. Times of carefree happiness centuries ago.

Wodran's hall was glorious. Gold, gold and more gold as far as the eye could see, ceilings painted with impressive scenes of eras gone by. But no soul to be seen. The first guards were stationed at the gates that lead to the private chambers of the king's residence. Ard expected them to give him problems but they let him pass without questions. Neither of the other guards that he encountered along the corridors questioned his right of being there. No one stopped him. Then he stood in front of Wodran's bedroom. What a pathetic place for a ruler to spend the entirety of their reign. He knocked and the door was opened promptly to his surprise. Two servants gestured for him to enter. Again, no questions asked. This was going too well, it was far too easy to see his father, Ard thought. Nothing in comparison to the last time when he tried to enter this part of Valhalla. Back then he was denied entrance at the bottom of the golden staircase and Ard almost ended up punching the guards. But not today.

Still without a word, the servants led him through several smaller chambers and then there he was. His father sitting on his throne, next to his bed. Pathetic. This throne was smaller than the one in the big reception hall but fit for a king nonetheless.

"Father" Ard said and bowed his head barely noticeable. He looked at his father and saw an old man. What happened to him? Gods age, but very slowly and only up to the point they called the wise age. Wodran, who was one of the original gods, had almost reached his wise age. His hair was white already, it had been for the past 200 years. He shouldn't have changed that much, but there he was, looking gaunt and weak and almost...mortal.

"What happened to you father?"

"On your knees! You are facing the king of Asgaard, the king of the gods!" a mean looking servant on Wodran's left commanded. He was one of three in total, all gods that Ard had never seen before. Wodran just stared expressionless.

"I will do no such thing! He might be king, but he is also my father." It would have been too easy, Ard thought.

Wodran raised his hand to stop the argument in its tracks.

"Welcome Ard. I haven't seen you in a long time. I thought you would come soon, but I didn't realise how soon."

"What made you think I'd come? You've done your best to stop me from visiting."

"It's in your nature to question, to fight for justice. And I know that you feel a big injustice was done to that girl."

"So you know?!"

"Of course I do, I'm the king of Asgaard. I knew a golden maiden was coming."

"How could you allow for her to be killed? She was a gift from the source itself!"

"There are things you don't understand Ard."

Suddenly Wodran's voice had changed. His eyes drifted off, staring past Ard and fixing to something in the distance.

"You are king! You know it was destined!

"Do not question the decisions of the Norns and do not question my decisions or you will pay the price." Wodran's words were threatening and cold.

"But we were children of the fates too! Mother would have never..."

"Enough!" Wodran roared and the marble floor was vibrating. "Never mention that weak female ever again" his father said with a single tear rolling down his face, his hands shaking and clutching the arms of his throne. The servants stepped closer to him.

Ard didn't comprehend. What was happening? Admittedly Wodran had never been a nurturing father but this...

"Leave." Again, it was the mean looking black haired servant who spoke.

"father you can't..."

"Leave or I will call the guards."

In his mind Ard had already figured out which guards to take out first before throwing that snarky servant asshole out of the window and sending him on a nice 2000 feet fall that would certainly shatter his immortal bones into a million tiny pieces. It would take ages for him to heal and cause a great deal of discomfort. Perhaps he should throw his useless father too. He knew how the guards operated, it would be too easy. And anyway, Ard was stronger than most other gods, which gave him an unfair advantage. Not that it would matter.

As tempting as it was, there was no point in causing a carnage, especially one that involved the king. The Elders wouldn't like it. The Norns wouldn't like it. So Ard turned around and left, but not without "accidentally" throwing one of his daggers over his shoulder, missing the ear of his favourite servant by a hair's breadth. And that was that.