I'll ask you again, Kid. You want a job?" Arvid asked as he studied the two cakes, right after they had emerged from the fridge, ready to be shipped to their intended recipients.
Harry laughed. "Thanks, Arvid," he replied honestly, feeling flattered by the compliment. He was studying his work himself, and had to admit that the two cakes had come out pretty decent. Of course, he'd probably be able to do better next time. He always did better next time. "But I'll have to stick to my plan," he added.
"You sure? Peter could still make room," Arvid teased.
Harry laughed again and shook his head. Taking out his money pouch, he stacked some drachma on the table. Curious, the Head Chef of Asgard and his staff watched as Harry folded his hands. They didn't hear Harry praying silently to his grandfather.
A fistful of coins of vanished, before the sound of the cash register sounded and the two cakes went away. Harry pouted silently at the number of coins that had been taken; he guessed Hermes charged extra for pickups in Asgard.
He took the same moment to pray to Hestia, and let her know that he was all right, but in Asgard after helping Thor yesterday. He didn't tell the whole story; that would take too long and only make her worried. He just wanted to make sure she knew that he was fine and would be home later, because Thor insisted on throwing a party.
"Ready?" the god in question asked, dragging Harry out of his prayer to Hestia.
He nodded shyly, and looked at what he was wearing. He thought he looked like a miniature Viking; Thor had even asked him to bring out Godslayer – sheathed, mind you – and attached it with a belt around his waist.
He felt out of place, all of a sudden.
"You will fit right in!" Thor told him again.
"I look like a Viking!" Harry protested.
"Precisely," Thor agreed happily and with a wide grin.
"Not even a very good Viking," the demigod said. "They didn't even have any helmets with horns."
Thor grinned, it wasn't often his young friend acted his age, and seeing him grouch was just plain funny. "That's because Viking helmets didn't have horns," the big god explained. "That's an invention from the modern day."
Harry frowned, but remained quiet. Horned helmets were cool.
"Don't worry," Thor said, gently. "Everything will be fine."
"So you've told me," Harry replied. "But I still feel out of place, dressed like this."
Thor laughed and slapped his shoulder. Gently. Gently enough that it wouldn't leave a deep bruise, merely a surface one. "We live in the cold, Harry," the god said as he guided Harry out of the kitchens, already knowing that, if he didn't, the young demigod would set up permanent camp there. "You Greeks may get away with wearing just a bedsheet, but in the North we deal with ice and snow!"
Harry pouted at his friend. "It's called a chiton," he answered.
Thor just grinned. "It's funny how much you gripe," he changed the subject with a deep laugh. "You can face draugr, Frost Giants, Necromancers, Hydras, all kinds of other beasts, and you won't bat an eye. But invite you to a party and you get nervous and testy," he laughed.
Harry pouted deeper.
Thor laughed even harder, before sobering up and looking amicably at Harry. As if realizing that Harry really wasn't doing well, he attempted to help. Not really suffering from shyness, nor having an issue with large crowds, Thor wasn't really sure how to help, yet he was determined to do so.
"Come, my young friend, let's get to the Feasting Hall. We'll be early, and I can introduce you to some people. It'll settle you if you know some people there," he offered in his usual confident manner.
Harry nodded slowly, as always willing to trust his friends.
Thor pushed open a door, and preceded Harry into the dining area.
Harry whistled aloud, impressed despite himself. The Feast Hall was the size of a concert hall, with a hundred doors circling the perimeter of it. Tiers of long tables curved around the bowl of the room, decked with gold plates and jewel-encrusted goblets.
In the center of the massive hall stood a vast tree, reaching up higher than any tree Harry had ever seen; its lowest branches must have been at least 30 meters off the ground and its canopy spread over the entire hall, scraping against the ceiling and sprouting through an opening located in the very center of the dome.
Water cascaded down its branches, falling into pools at the tree's roots; the sound of it immediately putting Harry at ease. He always did enjoy the sound of a waterfall. Through its branches, Harry could see outside, where stars twinkled despite it not being that late.
In front of the tables, in the place of honor, stood a wooden throne with a tall back. At the far end of the room was a huge roasting pit, and Harry could make out the preparations being made for tonight's feast.
"That is an impressive tree," Harry commented.
"It is the tree Læraðr," Thor said. "Two creatures live in its branches. The first is the goat Heiðrún; she eats the foliage of Læraðr, and in return gifts us with mead."
"So that is where that great mead comes from!" Harry said, familiar with the drink Thor served during maths parties held at his palace.
Thor grinned. "You found me out," he remarked playfully. "The second is the stag Eikþyrnir, it bites the limbs of the tree. From its horns cascade the water you see cascading down. The water pools at the foot of the tree, then flows underground, feeding every river in the world."
Harry whistled again, impressed. Then, when he started thinking that statement through, he wondered how that happened. Then again, he reasoned, the Greeks said that the sun and moon were the chariots of Apollo and Artie. While he'd been in Artie's chariot, and it was a very nice and comfortable chariot, it wasn't the moon.
It must be something mystical or magical that he just wasn't grasping yet and decided to just roll with it. A stag living in a tree creating the water of the world's rivers was no weirder than Artie's chariot being the entire moon.
A croak sounded from somewhere high above, and two ravens swooped in through the hole in the ceiling; they glided through the chamber as if they owned it, and perched on the back of the wooden throne, immediately taking up a place of honor.
"Father's ravens," Thor said.
"Wait, I know them!" Harry said, quickly approaching the throne, and then stopping a couple of arm-lengths away to avoid appearing as a threat. "You're… ah…" Harry frowned, thinking deeply. It had been so long since he'd heard of Odin! What were his ravens called again? "Ehm…"
"Huginn and Muninn," Thor said, grinning. "Thought and Memory, which is apt for your situation."
Harry gave his friend an angry look. "I knew that!"
Thor's grin widened. "It seemed like you didn't," he offered amicably.
The young demigod huffed in a playfully upset manner, and then turned to the two ravens. "You guys are awesome," he told them; for a moment he imagined both birds puffing out their chests.
He approached slowly, carefully studying them. The two ravens eyed him curiously. "Lord Odin sends you out for knowledge, right?" he asked, shuffling closer. "You must be really smart."
Thor remained silent, wondering what his young friend was up to, debating whether to intervene or not. "Lord Odin?" he asked, instead.
Harry frowned at him. "Because Mister Odin is great," he declared, before turning back to the two ravens. "Let's ignore him; he's trying to be funny. But he isn't."
Thor sounded a protest, but it sounded more like laughter than actual anger. The two ravens croaked again, sounding equally amused.
"You know," Harry said, slowly and gently approaching the two corvids. "I'm quite good with felines and canines," he added, thinking of Nemmy and Artie's guardian wolves and making a gross generalization. "I wonder if birds like me too."
Thor opened his mouth, yet said nothing. Harry, meanwhile, was close enough to touch Odin's ravens.
"I'm Harry," Harry said, on what he hoped was a reassuring tone, and slowly reached out with one hand as if to pet them.
"Huginn," the nearest raven croaked, making Harry freeze.
"Muninn," the other raven added.
"You guys talk!" Harry said, excitedly. "You're even better than I thought!"
"Well, it is rather implied that they talk when it's said that Huginn and Muninn report to Father," Thor said with a chuckle.
Harry ignored him in favor of staring in absolute wonder at the talking ravens. Nemmy was the smartest animal he'd met so far, and not even he could speak. Although, now that he thought about it, maybe Nemmy could learn to write using his tail or something. That'd be totally cool.
"Strange mortal," Huginn croaked, making Harry startle out of his thoughts of Nemmy with the tip of his tail in an inkwell. "Respectful, yes, but strangely unafraid."
"Raised by Greeks, this one," Muninn croaked. "Amicable, and respectful, yes."
"Good judgment, too," Huginn added. "He knows impressive creatures when he sees them."
Muninn nodded in a strangely human fashion.
Thor chuckled in the background. "How is it that you manage to win over every being you meet?" he asked his young friend. "Father's ravens are notorious."
Harry grinned. "Hestia told me to always be friendly when I meet new people, and that I should never judge someone by how they look. Maybe other people weren't nice to Huginn and Muninn, so they weren't nice in response?"
The two ravens croaked with corvid laughter.
"Or maybe you just flattered them into liking you," Thor added, narrowing his eyes at the ravens.
"Is it still flattery if it's the truth?" Harry wondered.
"The truth must be said," Huginn replied. "Never fear speaking truth."
"Especially if said truth says nice things about us," Muninn added.
Harry laughed. Thor chuckled and shook his head. "Wait until Father hears this," the Norse god said.
"Wait until I hear what, Son?" Odin's smooth voice asked from behind the large God of Thunder.
Thor grinned widely and turned to face his father. Next to the All-father stood his wife, Frigga, as well as four people Harry didn't know.
"Harry has corrupted your ravens, Father," Thor tattled.
Harry shot him a betrayed look, then turned to face Odin and tried to look innocent. "They're just awesome, that's all," he said.
Huginn alighted from the throne, glided for a few moments, then touched down on Harry's shoulder. He had to scramble a bit, Harry's shoulder wasn't very large but somehow the raven managed to find a perch regardless. "The kid has good taste, Boss," the raven croaked at Odin.
"So I see," Odin replied with amusement. "Not many see beyond their exterior. Most just see ravens, and don't look further."
Harry looked to one side, to where Huginn was perched on his shoulder. "They're talking ravens, that's just cool," he said. "So it's other people's loss."
Huginn, from Harry's shoulder, and Muninn, still on the throne, croaked something that could be construed as laughter. Odin himself had a wide smile as well, joined by his wife. The four new people all looked both amused and surprised in equal measure.
"Anyway, Harry," Thor said, drawing the demigod's attention. "I would like you to meet my lovely wife, Sif, Goddess of the Earth, the Harvest, the Crops and the Grain, and Fertility. My Lady, this is the brave young man I told you about."
Harry looked at the woman, whose hair was like spun red-gold; her features were Elvin and she was without a doubt one of the prettiest women he'd ever seen.
"Nice to meet you, Miss Sif," Harry said, politely, holding out one hand.
Sif laughed. "I see Thor's stories of bravery haven't been exaggerated," she said, clasping his forearm instead. "It is good to meet you, as well, Harry," she greeted.
"And these are my most valuable companions," Thor said, smiling widely and motioning with an expansive wave to the three men Harry didn't know.
"These are the Warriors Three," the Norse god introduced. "Valued friends and companions in many a battle. Hogun the Grim, Fandral the Dashing, and Volstagg the Svelte."
"Nice to meet you," Harry said, nodding to each in turn and clasping their hands. Then, he realized something, crossed his arms, and looked at Thor.
The God of Thunder looked surprised and wary.
"Tho-o-or?" Harry asked, dragging out the name in the same fashion he'd heard Hestia drag out his.
Sif looked amused. "Someone's in trouble," Fandral told his companions. Volstagg laughed, while Hogun looked like he wanted to be amused, but was determined not to let it show.
"Yes, Harry?" Thor asked, his tone just a tad wary.
"If you have 'valued friends and companions' who have joined you in many battles… why did I find you alone in that cave, surrounded by Frost Giants?" Harry asked.
Thor looked a tad sheepish now. "Well, you see, Harry," he said, trailing off when he didn't find a good excuse.
"Sometimes, young Friend of Asgard," Odin said, sounding and looking as amused as the others, "my son is a bit reckless. And impatient."
"Ah," Harry said, releasing his crossed arms. "Hestia says the same thing about me, sometimes." He patted Thor's arm. "Don't worry, it happens," he told his friend. "We'll just try and do better in the future, right?"
Thor look floored for a moment. Most of the others burst out laughing, while Odin and Frigga maintained highly amused faces. And Hogun's eyes squinted slightly in amusement, and the corners of his mouth twitched slightly.
"Indeed, Harry," Thor answered cheerfully, as immune to social embarrassment as always.
"My question is, how did our new young friend meet Thor, and how did he know where to find him so quickly?" Fandral asked in general.
Thor was grinning widely now as the others turned to face Harry expectantly. "Ehm…" the young demigod managed.
"Go on, Harry, tell your story," Thor encouraged.
"This is payback for just now, isn't it?" Harry asked.
"Nonsense!" Thor said with a nod of his head. "This is good practice for when you have to tell it at the Feast!"
Harry pouted at him. Thor was as immovable as the sun.
Everyone looked amused at the by-play between god and demigod.
"Fiiine," Harry finally said, dragging the sound out and making it sound like he was getting an early start on his moody-teenaged-years. "So I met Thor at a math's party," Harry started to say.
"A what party?" Sif asked, as if she hadn't heard him right.
"A math's party," Harry repeated. "My grandfather, Hermes, invited me after I helped him out with something."
"Are you finally, after thousands of years, taking your studies seriously, my son?" Odin asked, with a teasing glint in his one eye.
"Thor? Studying maths?" Volstagg asked. "I don't see it."
"I'm with him," Fandral said, motioning to Volstagg with his thumb. "Just what kind of maths are being studied at this… maths party?"
"Oh, all kinds, Mister Fandral," Harry replied politely. "Mostly non-deterministic probability, but we also do some statistical analysis and such."
"That sounds like poker," Odin said, with an amused tilt to his lips.
"Well, maths are really boring if you don't spice them up," Harry blithely continued. "So we do some pattern matching in random data sets, and the occasional wager is placed on the outcome."
"That sounds like poker and gambling," Odin announced with great amusement.
"Now that is more up Thor's alley," Sif reported with a grin and a nod.
Harry grinned, but didn't react. He liked these people, they were funny. "So, anyway, there was a math's party yesterday," he started to say before being cut off.
"You can call them poker games now, you know," Thor said.
Harry shook his head, looking shocked to his very core. "I am an impressionable young boy and I should never be around vices like poker and gambling!" he said, placing a hand on his chest and pitching his voice in an over-the-top manner.
Everyone laughed.
"Anyway, we had a party last night, and Thor didn't show," Harry started to explain the events of the party, how it wasn't unusual for a player not to show up at the last minute, but how they usually sent a message saying so. He explained his worry, going home early, abused the heck out of his probability powers to track down Thor and how he got to Iceland to rescue him.
"Hang on," Fandral said, stopping his narrative. "You went into debt with a goddess for the sake of our friend?"
"Artie's a friend of mine, and it was just a couple of cakes," Harry said. "I already baked them and sent them off before Thor showed me this room."
The tall, blonde, Asgardian warrior stepped forward and placed his hands on Harry's shoulders. "The measure of the debt is unimportant. The fact that you were willing to take this debt on, for our friend's sake, is."
"Especially to a goddess known as the immortal man-hater," Volstagg added seriously.
"Artie's not that bad," Harry defended.
"She likes him, obviously," Thor said. "And he likes her in return. But not as much as one of her Hunters, though. You should hear him go on about her Lieutenant."
Harry frowned at his friend. "You're not funny."
"I disagree, I'm very funny!" Thor bombastically replied. "And are you telling me I'm wrong?" he asked.
Harry pouted. "Miss Zoë's an awesome teacher, that's all," he muttered, looking away.
"Oh, that's so cute," Sif said, causing laughs. Frigga nodded in agreement, a wide smile on her face.
Harry beat down the urge to give a sarcastic comment. As much as he liked the Asgardians, he didn't know them that well, and they may not take it well.
"Anyway," he said instead, blithely changing the subject back to the rescue, "I snuck into the cave." The listeners were too busy listening to tease him about Zoë any further.
People started trickling in as Harry spoke, but they settled down at one of the tables and didn't bother the major gods of their pantheon.
"Well now, that is quite the tale of bravery and wit," Odin said when the young demigod finished. The others nodded, and Harry had to brace himself as some of the Warriors Three apparently had Thor's compulsion to slap him on the shoulder as a way of encouragement.
More and more people were coming in, and the roasting meat was starting to smell really good, and Harry felt his anxiety rise. He didn't know Asgard that well, didn't know its people, and he wasn't good with large groups of people anyway.
So he looked around for an excuse for some breathing room.
A couple of large wolves had poked their way in, and they were now seated not far from the roasting pit, eyeing up the meat.
"Hey, look! Wolves!" Harry said, happily.
"You boasted about felines and canines earlier, so time to prove your mettle," Thor challenged. Harry nodded happily and quickly stalked over, not noticing how the others were looking at Thor with looks that ranged from disappointment to outright hilarity.
"Throwing your young friend to Lord Odin's wolves?" Fandral asked.
"That young man came to your rescue," Volstagg said. "If he gets hurt, I will hurt you."
Odin just looked amused. "Geri and Freki may have a bit of a temper, but unless he steps really out of line they won't savage him too much."
"Husband, really?" Frigga asked.
"You are here to fix him up, right as rain," the All-father said. "Besides, better he learn the lesson here than out in the wild."
"Just watch," Thor implored, motioning to where Harry had stopped a respectful distance away from the two wolves.
While the canines were still eyeing the meat, it was obvious from the swiveling of their ears that they had detected him.
Harry slowly approached; the two wolves turned slightly to eye him up, making sure to keep their food-source in sight as well.
Harry stopped again, now that they saw him. He slowly raised his hands, palms up. "Hi, I'm Harry," he said, soothingly, taking another step closer.
The wolves did not react with obvious signs of hostility. Taking that as encouragement, Harry took another step, and raised his upturned palms, stretching out his arms.
Taking the invitation, the two predators took a step closer, and sniffed his hands. Harry grinned. "You're good wolves, aren't you?" he asked.
They stopped sniffing and eyed him for a moment. Harry took another step closer, now firmly in touching range. Or mauling distance, if the two canines were so inclined.
They didn't seem to be, anyway, and Harry slowly reached out. He made contact with the left wolf first, and scratched the scruff of its neck. Maybe it was the fact that they could smell Thor and Odin on him, or maybe the wolves really did know he meant no harm, but neither seemed to mind the touch.
He scratched them harder, remembering how that one guardian wolf of Artie's had really liked it when he played rough.
The wolf on the left wagged its tail, once, then stopped and seemed embarrassed. The other wolf seemed wolfishly amused.
"Who's a good wolf?" Harry encouraged, resuming his ministrations. The wolf on the right gave a happy pant, and then seemed as embarrassed as the first wolf had been.
"No need to be upset," Harry encouraged. "Good wolves get pets. And meat." He brought his hands together, and pulled on Hestia's domain to create a large plate of roasted meats.
The wolves suddenly didn't seem to care what Harry did and charged at the offered treat. Laughing, the demigod petting and scratched and rubbed; the two wolves just ate, panted, and wagged their tails.
"Their names are Freki and Geri," Thor suddenly said, smiling widely. "They are father's companions, and not usually predisposed to being treated like pets."
"They're really cool," Harry said. "And they're wolves, not pets, obviously. Like Artie's guardian wolves, those are neat, too." He stood up from where he had been close enough to bury his face in Freki's ruff if he'd so chosen, and gave both wolves a final pet. The wolves looked up from their food for a moment, before going back to feasting.
"I love large felines and canines," Harry said happily as he walked back with Thor. When they returned to where the other gods were, Harry found that they had taken a seat at that one table with the wooden throne, upon which Odin had taken seat.
Another thing he liked in Asgard; Odin's throne was made from wood and while it was obviously a throne, it wasn't as ostentatious as the thrones of the Greek Gods. Also, only Odin seemed to have one; the others just sat at the table on regular seats.
"Plying them with food could be considered cheating," Fandral was saying. "But then one realizes that Freki and Geri don't usually accept food from strangers."
"He has a connection," Frigga said, looking up as Thor and Harry sat at the table. "It is a rare gift to be able to create connections like this, young Harry," she said, now speaking to him directly.
Harry nodded shyly. "They're good wolves," he just said. "You just need to make friends, that's all."
Odin definitely looked amused. "First my ravens, and now my wolves," he said. "What will you suborn next?" he asked with a teasing lilt to his voice.
Harry, as always, immediately felt as if he'd done wrong. "Sorry, Lord Odin," he whispered softly.
"It is good to see that someone else recognizes them as the valued companions that they are," Odin said instead.
By now, the hall had pretty much filled to capacity, with a lot of the feasters having seen Harry and Odin's wolves.
Odin raised his hands, immediately the Feasting Hall fell silent. "My friends! Loyal warriors! Today, we feast to the rescue of my son, Thor!"
"Again!" a loud-mouth shouted, to some merriment from the surrounding people.
"That is Davy Crockett," Thor whispered to Harry. The Norse God's tone indicated that the American hero was on Thor's 'to-watch' list. "He's one of the thanes, one of the Lords of Valhalla. Thanes are also the board of directors, running Hotel Valhalla when father is unavailable."
Somehow, the god was able to whisper without annoying Odin, who had simply taken the time to let the chuckles die down while staring at Davy – who didn't look the slightest bit intimidated.
Harry grinned; he liked the man. Gods were people too, and they needed someone around to remind them of that.
"Yes, my son does find himself in trouble every now and again," Odin finally acknowledged when he saw Davy wasn't about to give in. "Thankfully, this time, he was found and rescued normally it may take days, or weeks, this time he was missing but for a scant few hours."
Odin had a gift for speaking, as the room remained silent. "This remarkable feat was due to the young warrior we are celebrating today, our guest of honor." The All-father, with an expansive wave of an arm, motioned to Harry. "Harry Potter."
Thor poked Harry in the side, causing him to jump up from his seat. Scattered laughter permeated the room while the young demigod glared at his friend, who was not at all repentant.
"I will now let him tell you the story," Odin said with a grin partially hidden by his beard.
Harry repressed the urge to meep at the sight of hundreds of people, each a gifted warrior in their own right, staring down at him.
He drew a breath, and then decided to go for broke. Since he was ten, and therefore short, he was sure that most of the people in the back would have trouble seeing him.
So he did the first thing that came into his mind, and he jumped up on the table, carefully planting his feet so he touched neither glass, goblet, plate, or cutlery.
"Good evening all," he said, politely, throwing some Shen after his voice to make it sound more loudly. "As Lord Odin so eloquently stated, I am Harry." Nervous, he started to pace the length of the table – again, missing each and every object on it.
The onlookers laughed appreciatively. "Now, I'm a friend of Thor's; a bunch of us get together once a month to practice mathematics. We all feel we need it."
Uproarious laughter filled the hall. Harry paced back the other way, and explained in broad strokes what had happened, trying to ensure that Artie and the Hunters were kept out of the spotlight. He didn't want to get them into trouble. At the same time, he did manage to explain he made a deal with a goddess to get there so quickly.
When he got to the part where he snuck into the cave, he started explaining in higher detail. Considering these were all warriors, Harry decided on giving a clean, if somewhat clinical, description of what he'd seen and experienced, and did his utmost best to keep his emotions out of it.
It made his sound both humble and way more skilled than he actually was. After all, a statement of 'that Frost Giant charged me so I threw my sword into his chest, killing him' was a lot more impressive when you left out the fact you were running on a combination of luck, panic, adrenaline, and an overcharged sword.
"That's when I passed out," Harry finished a few minutes later. "I was just glad we were able to kill that necromancer, he deserved it."
Davy Crockett, that same loudmouth from before, whooped. "To Harry!"
Harry blushed as the others took on the call and raised goblets of drink. He could do with one of those, too, he realized.
Thor pushed something into his hands. He looked down at it.
It was a drinking horn, filled with the golden liquid that was mead.
A wide grin spread on Harry's lips, and before he realized he was still on the table, in broad view of everyone, he raised the horn and drank deeply.
More cheers rose.
Now finally realizing he was making a spectacle of himself, he climbed down off the table. "Sorry, got carried away," he muttered quietly, no longer amplifying his voice.
"Well told, Harry!" Thor said, slapping his back, before standing up. The assorted warriors, who had been eagerly debating the story among themselves, fell silent again after a few pointed coughs from the Norse God of Thunder.
"Of course," the god in question said. "It would not do for such heroics to go unrewarded."
More cheers rose from the crowd, and Harry had the distinct impression that Asgardians loved to cheer and took every chance to do so. Considering each cheer was accompanied by drinking, he could start to see why. He took another sip of his own horn; the darn thing came without a stand so he couldn't put it down until it was empty.
Thor was sneaky that way.
"Considering my young friend risked his life to come to my rescue, and did so only out of friendship, without any expectation of rewards, I had to think quite deeply on what would be an appropriate gift," Thor told the crowd.
Harry could see Davy Crockett open his mouth to, no doubt, heckle the god. He was stopped by Helgi, the Hotel Manager whom Harry had met earlier.
"Harry," Thor said, drawing the demigod's attention. "I present you with this." Harry quickly finished the contents of the horn, put it down, and stood up.
Thor pulled an ornate key out of a pocket; it was made of some sort of metal, intricately decorated, and styled like an old-school key. As Harry accepted it, but before he could offer any kind of response, Thor continued.
"This key will open a room in Bilskirnir, my palace," the god explained. "This room is now yours. Know this, Harry. Wherever I am, there will always be room for you to stay, and there will always be a spot for you at my table."
Harry gaped for a moment; at once realizing what this meant.
And the implications of it.
Thor had given him a place to stay, should he ever need it. And beyond that, he'd given Harry something that the young demigod had never experienced before.
Thor wanted him around. He was renting Helios' temple, and despite how much he loved her, and how much she no doubt cared for him, Hestia had never offered him to stay with her, either. The less said about the Dursleys, the better.
But Thor. Thor wanted him to stay.
He swallowed deeply, and looked away in an effort to hide the fact that he wiped his eyes with the back of the hand clutching the key.
He then threw his arms around the bulky god and squeezed tightly. "Thank you," he whispered, quickly releasing him. Hugging Thor was interesting, to say the least. Powerful, and the air tingled across his skin.
Thor grinned and ruffled Harry's hair. "You're welcome," he said, pretending to ignore both the wiping of the eyes and the quick hug.
The gathered warriors were cheering and whooping and drinking, and Harry decided they had the right idea of it. Raising the hand still clutching the key, and whooped along with them, which, of course, only encouraged them.
He was just about to sit down, following Thor's example, when Odin got to his feet. The All-father didn't need to cough to get silence. His mere presence shut everyone up, plunging the feasting hall into complete silence.
"Earlier today," Odin said, "I went to visit the young warrior who so brazenly penetrated a cave full of Frost Giants to rescue my son. I wanted to get the measure of this valiant young warrior. Afterward, when I raised the offer of a reward, this young warrior bravely, and respectfully, declined."
The onlookers took in a deep breath, as if steeling themselves. "I, of course, believed this to be a slight." Harry could see angry nods, and some angry muttering was starting to take place. The mutters died down the instance Odin started speaking again.
"Instead, this young warrior explained, he was there only to rescue my son out of friendship. He did not expect a reward, simply because he felt that successfully rescuing my son was reward in itself," Odin said. Like the gifted orator he was, the King of Asgard had his audience shifting their emotions 180 degrees with just two sentences. "Additionally, he explained, he would gratefully accept any gift that I would so chose to give him, he merely wanted to ensure that I knew – that we all knew – that he would not expect one."
Davy Crockett took the lead in cheering again. Harry wished he had a goblet of mead so he could take another drink. That drinking horn had held a lot of liquid, and the pleasant warmth was starting to spread through his body, but he definitely wanted something to occupy his hands.
"As such," Odin said. "Considering the service he did out of no other obligation than friendship, I have decided to extend Asgard's hand and accept. From now on, let it be known that Harry Potter is a Friend of Asgard."
More cheers, more drinking for the onlookers. Harry blushed and tried to do anything he could to keep himself from twitching.
As the cheers went down, Harry could see the wide grin on Odin's face. "And, of course, as I explained to the valiant young warrior, between friends, the giving of gifts is not out of the question."
The assembled warriors laughed uproariously.
Odin made a motion with his hands, and suddenly said hands were filled with a bundle, wrapped in plain brown paper, tied together with a cord of packing string.
Muttering came from the peanut gallery at the sight of the plain paper and the cordage; apparently, this wasn't the type of gift everyone had in mind for a boy who'd rescued one of their princes.
"Thank you, Lord Odin," Harry said politely and gratefully, while simultaneously trying not to sound relieved, both that things were over and that the gift wasn't anything extravagant.
Odin looked amused again. "You may want to open the package first, young Harry," the Kind of Asgard counseled.
Harry gave him a curious look, then nodded and pulled at the bow of packing string keeping the bundle closed. The bow released easily, the string fell away, and the plain brown wrapping paper opened, still covering the bundle but now no longer tied tightly together.
It was obviously an item of clothing of some kind, and Harry pulled the paper back to study the clothes Odin had seen fit to give him.
It was a shirt of some kind, and Harry let it fall open to take a closer look. It was short-sleeved, but seemed to be long for a regular shirt and would probably come to his mid-thigh. It was close-woven of many metal rings, as supple almost as linen, cold as ice, yet seemed to be harder than steel. It shone like moonlit silver, and was studded with white gems.
Appreciative sounds spread through the audience.
"Forged and fitted by the Dwarves in the heart of Niðavellir, it is made of silversteel, called mithril by many races," Odin explained. The audience definitely appreciated that one. To Harry, who had no idea what mithril was, just nodded gratefully. It definitely was a beautiful piece of work, and chain mail definitely could come in handy. "Considering you seem prone to getting in trouble, that shirt will protect you against penetrating wounds. Of course, young men grow tall; as such, My Queen and I have spent a few hours this afternoon enchanting it so it will grow with you as you age."
"Whoa, that's awesome," Harry gasped. "Thanks, Lord Odin!" he added, barely restraining himself from giving the King of Asgard a well-deserved hug, right then and there. Instead, he managed to restrain himself to an exuberant handshake, much to Odin's amusement.
Now finally having a chance to sit down, he studied the mithril shirt. It looked very nice, and felt really light and supple. It would definitely come in handy, he thought, and starting thinking of an excuse so leave so he could try it on.
"Of course," Odin said, having returned to his throne but not yet sitting down in it, "warriors of Asgard have the aid of a Valkyrie while present here."
Harry looked up from his new mithril body armor, and stared at Odin, wondering what the crafty God of Wisdom hand in mind now.
"The Valkyries normally chose a slain warrior to bring to Valhalla, so we can resurrect them to become einherjar. That Valkyrie then becomes responsible to aid the warriors she chose, both in their training and at meals," Odin explained. Most of the audience seemed to listen with forced politeness; Harry felt a bit bad that the King of Asgard was forced to explain something like this to him.
Odin didn't seem to mind, instead his grin was widening. "So now we have a Friend of Asgard, a valiant young warrior, who sits among us and has a standing invitation to return to us at any time… and yet he has no Valkyrie to aid him."
Harry suddenly felt like he had been thrust back into the spotlight. The different women – ages ranging from teenagers to grown women – who had been bustling food and drink about were suddenly staring him.
A powerfully built girl with snow-blonde hair started to rise from where she was sitting with the other thanes; before she could come completely to her feet, another woman, this one older, simply launched herself at the first girl and tackled her.
"What's going on?" Harry wondered.
Thor was smiling widely and shouted an encouragement before turning to his young friend. "Gunilla is my daughter, captain of the Valkyries and Thane here at Hotel Valhalla," he explained. "Obviously, she was about to pull rank, but Boudicca, Queen of the Celts, apparently disagreed with that."
"Boudicca is rather violent," Odin said. "Even among Asgard."
More females, apparently all Valkyries, were gathering around where Gunilla and Boudicca were slugging it out. Harry felt like cringing and wanted to shrink in on himself. They were fighting over him? He didn't want anyone getting hurt!
He wished he knew of a way to both get out of this and to stop the brawl at the center of a growing circle of Valkyries.
Suddenly, one of them, a girl of about 16-17 years of age, slipped unnoticed out of the shouting group of Valkyries and made her way over.
"Hi, I'm Roshilde," she introduced herself, holding out one hand.
"Hi, I'm Harry," he answered politely, taking her hand and shaking it. He thought he rather liked her. She seemed calm, and the way she had just boldly come over instead of fighting it out with the others appealed to him. Oh, and she had red hair. The same kind of fire-engine red that his mother's hair was when she was in mortal form. He loved that shade.
She grinned at his casual response. "I heard you're looking for a Valkyrie?" she offered.
Thor laughed loudly enough to break up the brawl between the two Valkyries, and cause the others to look over.
"Apparently," Harry replied, ignoring everything and everybody. "Are you looking for a job?"
Roshilde laughed, a tinkling sound that Harry found fetching. "I wouldn't be here if I wasn't," she said with a wink and held out her hand.
Harry shook it. "Welcome aboard," he said, not really knowing what was protocol in these situations.
She laughed again.
"I almost had this bitch!" Boudicca shouted.
"No, you didn't," Gunilla said back, drawing herself to her full height, before looking at Roshilde. "That was a sneaky and underhanded thing to do," she said, sounding displeased.
Harry stood up; silence fell over the hall. Roshilde was his Valkyrie now, and he appreciated the way she had just come over and introduced herself, rather than resorting to violence. "Roshilde came over and introduced herself like a polite person, instead of fighting over me like a slab of beef," he said.
Next to him, Thor chortled in his napkin. "Sometimes, we can't avoid a fight," Harry went on. "But I've also found that, at other times, just having a chat works wonders." He sat down.
Gunilla didn't look all that pleased. "Sorry about her," Thor said, just loudly enough to carry but quiet enough to make it sound like he was having a private chat. "She'll come around. She's a good girl, but after 500 years, she's a bit headstrong."
"You mean, like her father?" Harry teased.
Thor laughed. "Precisely!"
Gunilla didn't look all that mollified, but she did sit down. The other Valkyries dispersed and went back to their duties. Roshilde started serving food.
"That is part of the duties of the Valkyries," Odin said, seeing how Harry looked rather unsure. "They find it a great honor on their part to serve the fallen warriors. Or, in your case, our invited friends."
As Roshilde put a large plate down in front of him, Harry looked up at her. "Thanks," he said. Just because it was her duty, and she found it an honor, didn't mean he had to be impolite about it.
"You're welcome," she replied with a grin.
Harry looked at the drinking horn; it had held at least a liter of liquid and he'd chugged it fairly quickly because he couldn't put the darn thing down until it was empty. Because he also hadn't eaten anything in a while, the alcohol was starting to set in fairly quickly now; his mind felt fuzzy and the tips of his fingers were tingling.
Therefore, the food was most welcome. If only his stomach wasn't still full of mead, anyway. He pushed himself to eat regardless, it would help cut down the alcohol.
Thor, having seen him stare at the horn for a few moments, grinned, picked it up, and held it out. "Here Roshilde, fill this up for Harry," he all but demanded.
Harry stared at him. "Fill this up for Harry, please," he said, adding emphasis.
Chuckles and giggles came from the others at the table, but Harry kept staring at Thor, who looked completely flabbergasted, as if the very concept of saying 'please' to a Valkyrie was a paradigm shift of the greatest order.
"Just because it's her duty doesn't mean you don't have to be polite," Harry said.
Thor blinked, and realized Harry wasn't about to budge on this one. He dipped his head in acknowledgement, finally. "Fill this up for Harry, please," the God of Thunder said as he handed the horn to Harry's Valkyrie.
"Of course, Lord Thor," Roshilde replied politely, before throwing a look at Harry that all-but-said she couldn't believe what he'd just done.
More chuckles and giggles.
"Roshilde, please disregard that," Frigga said, politely, before the Queen turned to Thor. "Your young friend is mortal, and he already had quite a bit to drink."
"But mother!" Thor protested. "Watching him get drunk is very funny! The amount of alcohol he can tolerate is impressive for a mortal his size!"
"He is your friend, not a toy," Frigga said sternly. "I will not have you drive him blindingly drunk."
"Too late," Odin muttered from behind his cup.
Frigga turned to him. "I'm sorry, dear Husband?"
"Nothing, dearest, nothing," Odin stated calmly.
Harry felt grateful over the intervention. Hestia would be upset enough; she had told him to limit himself to one drink – and while a drinking horn could technically be catalogued as one drink, it definitely was breaking the spirit of Hestia's request quite fiercely.
Then again, he regretted having to drink it all in one go.
Frigga, meanwhile, had stared down Thor, who was now pouting as he ate. "Fill Harry's goblet, please, Roshilde," she told the Valkyrie. "That will be your last," she told Harry on a mothering tone.
He nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Miss Frigga."
Considered the wisest person on Asgard by many, Odin included, Frigga recognized Harry's gratitude for both the goblet and the intervention, and gave him a pleased nod as a 'you're welcome'.
Roshilde was quick to obey her Queen's request and soon Harry had a nice and jewel-encrusted goblet filled with mead in front of him. It was breaking Hestia's request, he knew, but if he paced it out far enough it wouldn't be too bad.
After all, he didn't want to return home blindingly drunk; Hestia would definitely disapprove of that.
Stupid drinking horn with its massive amount of alcohol. It was definitely starting to affect him now, despite the fact that he had started eating.
"Harry? Are you alright?" Sif asked, seeing him sway slightly.
"Hm?" Harry looked up at her, suddenly having an idea. "Sure, thank you, Miss Sif!" He looked at his fork. "I was just thinking about how lucky I am to have two right hands to pick up those two forks someone put next to my plate."
Thor burst out laughing.
Harry eyed him with one eye closed, as if taking aim. "Are you two ganging up on me?"
Thor laughed louder.
"Thor! Now look what you did!" Frigga said, angrily.
"He's not that drunk!" Thor protested, before looking at Harry. "You're not that drunk!" he repeated. "Stop trying to get me in trouble. It's not funny."
Harry grinned. "Yes, it is," the demigod stated confidently.
The Warriors Three were the first to laugh; Sif joined in almost immediately. Frigga looked amused, and Odin looked like he wanted to laugh, but didn't to maintain the peace.
"And no, I'm not that drunk," Harry said, putting Frigga at ease. "I am quit tipsy, though. I wouldn't dare make a joke like that normally."
"It was a good joke," Fandral said. "And it had the added benefit of almost getting Thor in trouble."
Thor stared balefully at him. "You are not funny, either," he declared.
Harry laughed; it was good to have some payback. Conversation went around the table, but he remained mostly quiet and listened as he ate. Despite everything, there was still close to a liter worth of mead he was digesting and the more he ate the more he felt the alcohol affect him. He knew he was definitely drunk now, and that it would take a good while for his liver to burn it off.
He eyed the goblet in front of him; he hadn't touched it since he started eating. Despite him wishing for it earlier, he now felt like he would be better off waiting.
He finished his plate, and Roshilde somehow was there right after to ask him if he wanted more. Feeling quite stuffed, Harry simply asked for a nice cup of tea to help his digestion – something the Valkyrie was quite pleased to provide.
He slowly sipped his tea, letting the others talk, and took the time to relax after the stressful day and let himself settle.
Stupid drinking horn.
Now that he started to relax, no longer feeling like he had to be on eggshells to avoid some of his favorite deities from disliking him, other parts of his biology started to reassert themselves as well.
That game him an excellent excuse to put on Odin's gift, too! Gathering the mithril shirt, and the goblet of mead, he slowly got up.
"Harry?" Thor asked.
"I'll be right back. Biology break. Stupid drinking horn," he told the god.
Thor immediately smirked. "And that requires Father's gift and the goblet of mead?"
"Lord Odin gave me a really cool chainmail shirt, of course I'm going to try it on first chance I get," Harry shot back. "And I'm taking the drink because I think you wouldn't be able to resist the urge to mess around with it if I left it."
Thor laughed and agreed to that point, causing most of the others at the table to laugh as well.
Nodding respectfully to the assembled gods and warriors, Harry made his way out of the room, in search of the nearest bathroom.
Doing his business and washing his hands didn't take very long.
Eventually, he found it not that different from putting on a large shirt and he was able to admire himself in the mirror.
It really was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship, he thought. Carefully, he ran his hands over the tiny interlinked rings, feeling the strength inherent in the incredibly lightweight metal.
Unable to stop himself, he drew Godslayer.
Boss? The sword asked. Are we doing what I think we're doing?
"Just a test," he muttered to his mirror image, and pointed the sword's tip at his stomach. Then lightly jabbed.
It poked him, and he had to suppress a sudden laugh at the tickling effect, but the chainmail was undamaged. He poked harder, and felt the sword's tip poke but not penetrate. If he'd been unarmored, he definitely would have had a small wound from that one.
"This is awesome," he said.
Just make sure nobody uses a club or a hammer or something, Godslayer said. Chainmail helps against stab wounds, not blunt-force trauma.
Harry nodded and re-sheathed his sword. He put the tunic and his other clothes back on, over the mithril armor, and grabbed the goblet and took a small drink before going out and returning to the hall.
As he entered, he had to cross between several tables to return to the table in the center, where Odin and the others were seated. As he did so, he was aware that more than just a few of the einherjar were looking at him. Most of them grinned appreciatively when he caught their eyes and he grinned back, raising his goblet as he did so. Most, if not all, saluted right back.
Apparently, gaining respect with the warriors of Asgard was as easy as risking your life in an impressive battle to risk one of their major gods, and living to tell the tale about it. Or, considering the setup of Valhalla, not living to tell the tale about it.
Suddenly, he became aware of a heated conversation between two of the einherjar, a man with a French accent and the man sitting across from him, with an undeniably British accent, but one Harry couldn't place.
Just as he cross behind the French-accented man, the British man jumped up and threw himself across the table, toppling both of them to the ground.
But not before side-swiping Harry, who suddenly found himself wearing his mead instead of holding it in his goblet.
The French and British man were on the floor, the British man on top, raising a fist to smack the French man.
Harry eyed the two, then the puddle of delicious mead, then the two men again. Was it the alcohol? Was it the fact he was in Asgard where fighting was encouraged? Was it the fact that what a waste of good alcohol shot through his mind?
Whatever the cause was, Harry suddenly found himself quite annoyed with the two.
He took a step forward, and kicked the British man. The kick of an above-average ten-year-old was nothing to a grown man, but when said ten-year-old enhanced said kick with Shen… well, that was something else, wasn't it?
The British man oomph-ed and was lifted off the French-accented man, before his back hit the ground himself.
"just what, do you two think you're doing?" Harry asked, annoyance clearly sounding in his voice. The surrounding einherjar quieted immediately, eager to see what would happen next. Their suddenly silence trigger those further away to stand up to have their own look. It wasn't every day that a new Friend of Asgard was brought to Valhalla; especially not one that young.
The British-accented man started to sit up. Harry narrowed his eyes, stepped over, and planted his foot on the man's chest. Again, most trained men would be able to lift the weight of a ten-year-old. Unfortunately for the man, Harry threw more Shen at the problem, basically increasing gravity on a tiny scale.
The man let out another oomph as his back hit the ground again. "You two spilled my drink," Harry said. "Wasting good alcohol is a no-no. And I have yet to hear an apology."
The French-accented man stared at Harry with a big grin on his face. The British-accented man, still with Harry's foot somehow holding him down, looked surprised. He tried to grip Harry's ankle and heave him off, but this caused the young demigod to simply narrow his eyes and push a bit harder, both with his foot and with Shen.
The man grunted and released the ankle. "I am sorry," he ground out, not particularly sounding as if he meant it.
Harry sighed angrily, it was probably the best he could get, and lifted his foot. "Fine, you can get up," he said.
The Englishman got to his feet without any particular grace, and Harry turned to look at the second man, still on the floor.
"I was enjoying you putting him in his place," the second man said with his strange French accent. "May I apologize as well?"
Harry snorted with amusement. "Sure," he said.
"I apologize for spilling your drink. You are right, good alcohol should not be wasted," the Frenchman said. "I'm sure there are laws in France against it," he added with a grin.
Harry chuckled and held out his hand. The Frenchman, surprised, took it. Harry, rather than throwing his back into it, threw Shen into it instead, and leveraged the man to his feet.
Suddenly, an instinct warned him. He released the Frenchman's hand, took a step back, and saw the Englishman basically throw himself at him.
Harry blinked, ducked underneath the too-high grabbing motion, stuck his shoulder against the man's torso and pulled hard on one of his attacker's arms. He didn't have to throw nearly as much Shen at this particular problem as he had first thought; good execution and proper technique counted for a lot.
The Englishman's face could only be described as 'blankly astonished' when Harry executed a picture-perfect Judo throw. Once more, the Englishman landed hard on his back, releasing an 'oomph'.
"Ippon!" some loud-mouthed einherjar shouted, causing everyone to burst out laughing.
The British-accented man stayed down, looking at the ceiling, obviously trying to figure out where he went wrong. "You can stay down until you apologize for real," Harry said. "trying to attack someone way smaller than you in the back. How disgraceful."
The downed man's cheeks burned. The assorted einherjar cheered and agreed.
"That was my last drink, too," Harry said, eying his empty goblet.
"Your last drink?" the Frenchman asked.
"Miss Frigga said I could only have one more, that was my last one," Harry explained. The French einherjar winced.
"That really was not-done," he said, grabbing his own goblet off the table. "Here, take mine. Spilling it isn't drinking it."
Harry grinned appreciatively and filled his own goblet with the contents of the Frenchman's.
"I used to be quite the warrior back when I was alive," the man said while Harry poured over the mead. "Unfortunately, then I took an arrow to the knee and it never healed quite right. Fortunately, that story has kept me well-supplied with drink, if you catch my meaning."
Before Harry could reply, a voice interjected. "Is he telling the arrow to the knee story?" the downed Englishman asked from his position on the floor. "I keep telling him to show me the scar, or it didn't happen! Besides, it would have healed fine after coming to Valhalla! There is no need to keep repeating that same story!"
"I am not dropping my trousers for your perverted ogling!" the Frenchman declared to the Brit.
Harry looked down at the British man. "Are you ready to apologize yet?" he asked.
The man blew out a breath. "Fine, you're right. Sorry for spilling your drink, young man."
"And?" Harry asked, drawing out the sound and ignoring the gleeful chuckling of the Frenchman.
"And for trying to tackle you when your back was turned," the Englishman added. "Sorry for that."
Harry nodded, extended a hand, and pulled him upright. "Fine, just see that it doesn't happen again." Ignoring the Englishman, he looked at the Frenchman. "Sorry to hear about your knee. What happened, anyway?"
"Oh, some English bowman shot it out during battle," the Frenchman said, waving it off as if it were of no consequence. "Those stupid bows could shoot a lot further than we though."
"Oh," Harry said. "Battle of Agincourt?"
"You heard of it?" the Frenchman asked, sounding happy about that.
"It's a major part of history, we have to learn about it in school," the young demigod explained.
"Well now, doesn't that beat all?" the Frenchman asked. "I was in a famous battle. Never though they'd be talking about that to this day. That's good to know."
Harry grinned, happy to see that the Frenchman apparently wasn't holding a grudge. "Anyway, I have to get back. Nice talking to you."
The Frenchman raised his empty goblet before realizing it was empty, and laughed. He saluted Harry with it anyway. Harry saluted back and resumed his trek towards his seat, ignoring the einherjar shouting and cheering.
Thor clapped him on his back when he returned. "Nice work!" he congratulated.
"Excellent throw, young man. Excellent," Sif added. "You've been well-trained."
Harry blushed. "Thank you," he answered softly.
Slowly, the conversation drifted to other topics. Frigga gave him a look, a look saying that she knew exactly what had happened, and that she would be giving him a free pass on refilling his goblet, but that it better not happen again.
Frigga had very expressive looks, Harry found.
Quite a few hours later, the alcohol had settled, and he had finished a second plate of excellent food, and Harry had just finished his goblet of mead – he'd been sparing it. He didn't know how late it was, or how early, depending on your point of view, but he still knew he was suddenly dead-tired.
"Perhaps it is time for you to go to bed," Frigga said, having kept an eye on him.
"Perhaps," Harry said. "I really should go home."
"You remember that you do have a room here now," Thor said with a wink. "it may not be the best idea to travel while both tired and drunk."
"I'm not drunk," Harry protested. "Not that drunk, anyway."
Frigga eyed him, and he shrunk slightly. "Fine, no traveling home," he said.
"Roshilde can show you where your room is," Thor told him gently. "That way, you can find it in the future."
Harry turned to him, not really knowing what to say. Nor how to say it, really.
"I know you have a home, Harry," the Norse God of Thunder said. "However, I will be most put out if you don't spend at least one week every year here. See it as your vacation home."
Harry grinned; that idea sounded great! "Thanks, Thor," he said, trying to show how much it meant to him in those few words.
The god just grinned and clapped him on the back again. "Go on, get some sleep. Your Valkyrie will take care of you."
"Of course, My Lord," Roshilde said to the god, respectfully, before turning to Harry. "Shall we?"
"Sure," Harry said, standing up and following her. He was looking forward to a good rest.