The roar of battle was already audible as you reached the end of the street.

The tension of conflict was in the air.

It smelled of iron and rain, like a thunder storm. Now and then blue lightning danced through the sky.

You had to chuckle in amusement at the sight.

"What in Muspelheim do you find so funny about my brother's brainless rage?", Heimdall asked as he looked at the sky with a judgemental gaze. "The bloody drunk will break the roof of the great hall again if he falls out of the clouds with his fat arse."

"You are too hard on your brother, my lord.", you said softly and approached the doors.

One of the wings was already broken off its hinges. The thick wood was still half-heartedly holding itself up, but thick cracks were already running through the colourful paintings.

Curious, you peered through the man-sized hole that gaped in the wall.

Inside, the brawl was in full swing.

Warriors of Odin were massing into one unit, while the laughter of Thor filled the hall and rose up into the grey clouds from the holes in the roof.

From the sound one could hear that his tongue was already heavy. His mind must have been clouded by unholy amounts of mead.

Even his footsteps, which were usually as quiet as the wind, now made the ground shake.

With one eyebrow raised and an even more judgemental expression on his face, Heimdall let out a sound of displeasure.

"Too hard on him?", he asked in a sarcastic yet mocking manner. "Just look at that drunken piece of pig! I always speculated about it but this shows his brain is the size of a pea!"

"Your words are as kind as the winter of Helheim, my lord.", you chuckled and climbed through the hole to get to one of the soldiers, who lay flat on the floor, groaning in pain.

Heimdall watched the scenery from a safe distance.

However, he could not control his tongue and continued to shout insults and jokes about his brother into the hall.

With an amused smirk on your lips, you just shook your head and dedicated your full attention to the soldiers' wounds.

Most were simple injuries, smashed in teeth, bloody noses and black eyes.

You were no healer, your skills were limited to the injuries Erik often received from Odin's magical creatures. But you managed to take care of most of them with wet rags and a few bandages until learned healers had a chance to look at everything.

"Oh, very good, you kind bag of wet sand.", Heimdall huffed as you came back into sight. "You did your good deed. Well done. The nine reals will thank you with their undying gratitude. Now get back here!"

But you ignored him and moved on, closer to the center of the battle.

Carefully, you stepped over some flipped tables.

A soldier crashed to the ground in front of you.

Startled, you fell to the ground, but quickly regained your senses again and helped him back on his feet so that he could get out of danger.

A stool chased through the air.

It barely missed your head by the width of a hair.

Wooden splinters rained down and got caught in your hair as it smashed to pieces on a wall.

A thundering laugh made the air vibrate.

"I haven't had such fun in years!", Thor laughed and called Mjolnir to his side.

The gigantic hammer of solid metal hit one of the fighting soldiers right in the face.

Blood splashed everywhere as he crashed to the ground with a scream of shock and pain.

With your head pulled in you moved further to him.

"Where are you going, you idiot?", Heimdall asked and leaned through the hole, as if that would make you better understand him. "Your kindness will get you killed! What kind of death is that? Run over by the Allfather's weakest toys."

You gifted him a smile.

"I appreciate your concern, lord Heimdall.", you called out cheerfully. "But I'm sure my help is still needed."

He frowned with annoyance.

"I don't care for you, you brainless weakling!"

Crawling across the ground, you reached the soldier who had been hit by Thor's hammer.

His eyes were closed, he was bleeding, saliva dripped from the corners of his mouth. But his breath was still noticeable.

Relieved, you exhaled and tried to move on to the next wounded soldier.

You could not treat these injuries. The poor soul had to wait for a healer. Or a miracle, depending on how severe the injuries were.

The laughter of the thunder god was now so close that the volume made your eardrums ring.

Electricity danced across the floor and made all the hairs on your body stand on end. It felt like you were about to touch a thunderstorm with your bare hands.

A small bolt of lightning exploded into blue sparks in front of your face. Surprised, you squinted to shield your eyes. The feeling of statistics chased through your body.

Blindly you felt with one hand over the ground. Something large and rough nestled into your palm.

It felt like a stone. But it moved.

All at once everything was dead silent.

No laughter made your core tremble.

No screams made your blood freeze.

Nothing.

Not even wind could be heard.

With bated breath you dared to open one eye.

The tip of a boot appeared.

You were holding it.

Slowly, very slowly, you let your gaze wander up.

There was a leg attached to the shoe.

And to that leg was a lower body attached.

And to that lower body belonged a round torso, with a bulged stomach and an exposed, tattooed chest.

A red beard appeared, along with a pair of bright blue eyes.

Cold rage met your gaze.

"Who are you, little (Y/G)?", the god of thunder asked, his tongue heavy from the alcohol.

A panicking grin appeared on your face.

"Greetings, son of Odin.", you tried to bow your head in respect, as far as it was possible while laying on the floor.

A low growl made Thor's chest tremble.

"Let. Go."

Immediately, you pulled your hand back.

"Apologies.", you swallowed hard.

He started at you.

Then his hand reached out for your face.