Gods and mortals

Rewards and doubts

A.N.
Let us continue on our journey.

Muspelheim, asgardian war camp...

They were made to march away from the camp. Truth to be told, the war camp wasn't so much as a camp anymore as it was a small city: complete with a castle, walls and districts. Norns, the queens somehow managed to get a river to flow through the middle of it, even if they were in a realm composed of fire and ash.

Even the simple act of terraforming this planet into a habitable one was a concept that Brogr still could not wrap his head around. Some foul seidr was at play here, it was the only logical explanation.
From now on, the stereotypical image associated with the kingdom of the now deceased Surtur would only be remembered in memory and on the pages of old, dusty history books.

But at least these changes were positive, for he could now breathe in the fresh, clean air, and not worry of having to watch his step, with the danger of the ever lurking lava pools.

As the smith walked alongside his remaining comrades, his ears only heard the large bustling of armored footsteps. It was a sight that Brogr would never forget: the one of seeing a sea of faceless individuals simply marching forward. It was of course a blatant display of asgard's power and wealth.

Naturally, not all legions would leave the newly founded cities: some would stay, and along with them their families, the new populace to inhabit the future settlements. Give or take half a century, then Muspelheim would become much like Svartalheim, Hel, Heven and Niflheim. Except here, (and Brogr was observant enough to notice) this world would become a mining one, considering the abundance of jewels and precious metals. And the Allfather was all too keen on hoarding mountains of gold to himself.

Brogr kept seeing Beigarth in his dreams... sometimes he would wake up and feel his blood coat his hands... he was still haunted by his actions.

The blacksmith kept ignoring the biggest mystery of them all though: the proposal that the two queens had yet to tell him. Even if it had been four days since he had last seen the monarchs, he was still very much shaken, still very much scared of the uncertainty that the women posed. It had gotten to the point that he half expected to have his throat slit open in the night, or to be suddenly apprehended with no prior warning and thrown into a dark, smelly cell.

They knew very much well that he was different and viewed things differently than the regular asgardian; some would say that his ideology and opinions were heretical and treasonous... but why hadn't they acted yet? Why had they seemingly spared him when the chance to kill him had been presented to them on a silver platter?

So many questions and unforeseen possibilities, it was putting the smith in a dangerous position. Once he returned home to his father, he would throw himself to work, and create weapons like any good blacksmith. Brogr would try his very best to lay low, and avoid all contact with the higher up authorities.
Maybe, by doing this the royal heirs would forget about him; he was but a simple blacksmith after all, not a mighty warrior, or a genius tactician, or an expert seidr wielder.

The future was not written in stone... there would always be a choice to determine his own fate... and he would try his best to live out his life as he always wanted, fulfilling his dreams.

Shortly later...

The inside of the bifrost was alight with people, warriors, all of them.
The trip back had amazed him as it had the first time, it had left pure wonder in his eyes, to see all of those colors and stars, the vastness of the roots of the Yggdrasil; all encompassing, and all present.

Of course, they had to move away from the entrance of the ancient machine, Heimdall was still there, activating the bridge again and again in order to bring back the vast armies.
Eyvind and Ana kept sending him hateful looks... they were still angry at him for whatever reason, but he noticed that the boy's face held the traces of jealousy, whilst the girl's held regular hate, hate that originated from blind adoration and love...