The Valhalla Debate

The late Mr. Sanderson's soul sat in a small wooden chair before a semi-circle of gods. He had never been what you would call a religious man of any sort. He didn't know who these gods were or why he was here, wherever here was. All he knew was that some of them seemed quite upset.

"If it wasn't a proper weapon then it obviously doesn't count," a towering goddess proclaimed. Her skin was frosty blue and she seemed to radiate cold.

"Skadi, that's just not fair," said a one-handed god in a gentle tone. It was very obvious that even while he disagreed, he was trying not to upset her. "This man fought bravely to defend himself and his home. Surely that fits the criteria perfectly."

"I don't believe that is what is under dispute here." This goddess took Mr. Sanderson's breath away, or would have if he had a body to contain breath. Her skin was flawless and radiant; her long hair was silky and luxurious. Her fine clothes clung in all the right places, and a golden necklace hung between her breasts. If he hadn't been in such a state, it would have taken all his willpower to keep his mind from drifting to her bedroom. "We all know that his actions were worthy of gaining entry to Valhalla. The only reason Odin assembled us here is because he is worried that this will make him the laughing stock of all the pantheons."

The one eyed god at the center, Odin, turned a furious eye on her. "That's enough Freya. I won't have you mock me in my own hall. You may rule in Folkvangr, but I rule in Valhalla."

She smirked at his temper, but inclined her head in appeasement, "Of course, I hadn't forgotten." She turned to the one-handed god, "Please continue, Tyr."

Tyr spoke again, "Truly he has performed perfectly in the spirit of battle. He died a courageous, warrior's death. The only dispute to his entrance is the.... Well the weapon involved."

"Cookware," Skadi declared, "is not a weapon."

Mr. Sanderson started as the memory returned to him. He had been cooking breakfast when the break in happened. The spatula had already been in his hand so when he was attacked he fought back on instinct, using it as a rather poor bludgeoned.. 

"Obviously not." Freya grinned. "That's why Odin is so concerned about admitting him. If he lets in a man who tried to fight with a spatula, no one will take his army seriously anymore. Instead of a feared force of warriors they will be a joke amongst the realms. The culinary warriors," she chuckled.

"I said that is enough! If I had known you would make a mockery of this then I would have sent for someone else."

"It is already a mockery. This isn't about upholding the rules; it's about your macho pride."

Odin's forehead creased and he glared his one eye at her. "If that's how you feel, then you may leave."

Freya stood in a huff, her pout catching the eye of all in the room, except for Skadi. She turned and sauntered out, not bothering to close the door behind her.

There was a silence after she left as Odin rubbed the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

Mr. Sanderson used the moment to speak, his voice small compared to that of the gods. "Since this is my afterlife you're discussing, do I get a say?"

"No," Skadi said firmly. Her voice reminded him of a blizzard and the way she spoke invited no argument. "It is the job of humans to live and die; it is the job of gods to manage what happens after."

"Now, now Skadi," a new voice crooned from the doorway. "I'd expect such a fearsome and accomplished warrior as you to have far more imagination."

Skadi glared frozen daggers at the newcomer. "I have plenty of imagination. This is none of your business trickster, be gone."

The man leaned casually against the door-frame, apparently unmoved by her frosty look. His hair was wild and fiery red. Unlike the other gods who were thickly muscled, this man was lean and wiry. The mischievous look in his eye was reminiscent of a fox.

He turned to a rugged man with a large beard who had not yet spoken. "You know Thor, everyone in Asgard thinks you are a fine warrior. Perhaps the finest we have to offer, excepting Skadi of course." He flashed her a grin, then continued, "If what she is saying is true though, then we should all be envious of your hammer rather than yourself. If it is the weapon that makes a person worthy, that is."

Thor shot up from his chair, lightning flashing in his eyes. "I am a great warrior! Give me a weapon or only my fists and I will strike down all opponents before me. Who calls me unworthy?"

Loki raised his hands in placation. "Certainly not I. Yet that seems to be what their proposal suggests."

Everyone in the room watched with obvious tension as Thor sucked in a breath to bellow his outrage.

Loki interjected, "If you wish to settle this with proof for all to see and know your greatness, then I have a proposal of my own."

"Do not waist our time-" began Skadi.

She was interrupted by Thor's response, "All will know the power of Thor! There is no test I cannot defeat!"

Skadi glared at him for interrupting.

Loki grinned mischievously and pushed off the door-frame, entering the room at last. "Excellent choice, son of Odin." He raised his hand before him palm up. Above it was a spark of flame and then a spatula materialized. Not just any spatula, but Mr. Sanderson's own spatula. The one he had been using in the kitchen before...

Thor grinned in triumph, "Even with this puny instrument I shall best all before me. All will know the might of the God of Thunder!"

Skadi groaned and shook her head, knowing all too well where this was going.

Tyr stared at Thor with a long suffering look. Odin stared at Loki in cold calculation. Loki stared him right back, a wicked smirk on his lips. At the center of it all sat Mr. Sanderson, forgotten amongst the god's own schemes.

Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading! I sincerely hope you enjoyed it. I read and appreciate all feedback, so leave a comment if you have a moment. And if you like the story please hit the "vote" button to help others see it. Thanks again! 🖤