Thor’s gaze swung over the crowd as he though of how to continue his story next. Through the sea of smiling faces, he spotted a particular goddess he’d admired from afar for quite some time. Lady Idunna had long been a woman he had kept his eye on and held secret affections for. For someone like Thor—and this was truly saying something—to say that a woman made him nervous was extremely out of character, but that was precisely how Lady Idunna made him feel. He thought she had an unfathomable beauty and the few times he’d tried to gain the courage to speak with her, his cowardice won and he sought attentions elsewhere. As he shot the woman a crooked grin, he wondered if tonight he would feel brave enough to speak to her…or he would at least have enough ale to fool himself into thinking he was brave enough.
“So there is was, this gargantuan, foul beast, with its great, jagged horns and thick scaly horns, staring me down like it had just found its next meal,” Thor continued, leaning forward a bit as he spoke animatedly. “The rest of the hunting party circled us, but it was not enough to sway the beast’s attention on me. Of course, we all fought bravely, but ultimately the beast was no match for the might of me or my hammer.” Cheers erupted all around and Thor grinned brightly.
“I managed to keep the horns and skull intact during the fray and the royal taxidermists say it should be ready for display in my quarters within the week. Perhaps some of you ladies will be lucky enough to view it one day,” he added, shooting a quick wink to the crowd, which was met with a chorus of feminine giggles and chuckles. “Of course, I am most certain that there no more fearsome a beast in the nine realms. My Warriors Three, Lady Sif, my brother, Freyr, and myself are quite lucky to have all emerged with not so much as a scratch—a true test to our might.” The cheers of the crowd crested like a rising wave. The crowned prince of Asgard, and all the realms, felt his spirits soaring and he beamed with joy.
“Cheers for Thor!” Fandral shouted, raising his flagon of ale high into the air and soon the crowd followed his lead and their beverages were lifted. The crowd also followed Fandral as he tipped his drink back too an awaiting mouth. Thor lifted his own drink in thanks and took a long sip with the crowd.
The more Freyja listened to Thor, the harder it was for her to bring the smile to her lips or curbing her increasingly terrible mood. She had already been unceremoniously jostled around a few times by those seeking to gain a closer peek at Thor or those who did not recognize who she was.
I am not nearly drunk enough for this, she thought bitterly as she tipped her goblet back to drain it, only to refill it with a twist of her fingers once it had left her lips. What finally brought her simmering anger to a boil was what Thor said last and the toast that followed. She followed with the motions, though did not drink and instead used the silence among the crowd to her benefit.
“And thanks to Freyja, who you’ve seemed to have forgotten also accompanied you all on this hunt and made sure you did not get your skulls crushed like acorns as the bilgesnipe nearly took out the whole forest.” Her voice seemed to cut across the great room and a near hush fell upon it. Her accent was different than the Asgardians—something else they liked to jest her about—the vowels were long, certain syllables abrupt, and overall more lilting and sing-song. The crowd was quick to lower their drinks and part so that they could allow her a better view of Thor, who was watching her with a scowl. She met his gaze fearlessly, fingers clutching at the goblet in her hand tightly. “But I am long past thinking that you would deign to mention me in your stories.”
Vanaheim houses far more deadly creatures than your bilgesnipe. And if the creatures don’t kill you, the bandits and raiders will. You would know this if you cared to learn about the realms that you may rule one day. No, all you care for is battle, hunting, women, ale, and your
bloody hammer.”
“Mind your tongue, Freyja,” Thor finally stood, hands clenched into fists at his sides. Freya could hear Freyr in her ear, feel his hand on her arm as he tried to calm her. She shook him off roughly, nearly snarling as she strode toward Thor.
“One day, you may come to regret speaking when you should listen and forgetting what should be committed to memory.” There was so much more she wished to say, to tell everyone how she truly felt about Asgard and people that inhabited the realm, but her rational side won out. She could also feel the gaze of Odin on her back, as if imploring to continue and face his consequences. While she normally would not back down from a butting of heads, she knew this was not a battle that would end well.
“Enjoy the rest of your evening, Prince Thor,” she finished through her teeth, giving him one last look before draining her goblet of mead and tossing it to the side with a loud clatter and clang. Freyja swept from the room with a glimmer of her gold jewelry and the hiss of her silken gown skirting the marbled floors. She was intent on getting as far away from the feast as quickly as possible.
[Hopefully this was okay. I feel like I may have gotten a bit carried away.]