Thor: He is Worthy

Chapter 1: Father and Son  

  What does it mean to be worthy? What does it mean to be mighty? What does it mean to be a god or a king?

    Thor Odinson sat at the overlook of Asgard, staring out at the Rainbow Bridge and the cosmos below. A boy, of 12, already strong and bearing the title: "God of Thunder."

    "What ails you, my son?" a voice, deep and wise came from behind Thor's shoulder. It was his father, the All-Father Odin. The old man stepped beside the seated Thor, his long gray hair and beard swaying in the golden breeze.

    "I'm overwhelmed, father." He gestured with one hand at the emptiness below, reflecting the other nine realms through the mystic waters. "All of this, will one day be mine? But how am I to be ready for such a task? Would I even be worthy in a hundred years?"

    Odin chuckled and sat down beside his son. "Aye, I can understand your terror at such a prospect. In some ways, you'll never be ready. I certainly still feel overwhelmed. However, it will come to you at the right time. It may not feel like it, but it will . . . and you will grow from it. Trust me, my son."

    Thor nodded, not meeting his father's one-eyed gaze.

    A raven flew down, landing on the All-Father's shoulder as the two watched visions of Earth, blur through the waters below as men fought each other and built civilizations.

    Odin's eye then widened and he grinned widely. "I thought of an idea!"

    Thor stared.

    "I shall have the dwarves craft you the finest of hammers. One that shall harness your powers to greater heights and help you become the finest of gods."

    Thor smirked. "Will it then let me become worthy?"

    "Nae, quite the opposite. Only when you are worthy shall you be able to wield this hammer."

    "But what does it mean? What does it mean to be worthy?"

    "I'm afraid that is for you to find out, my son."

Chapter 2: Mjolnir

10 Years Later . . .

    Prepared before the gods on a platter was the silver hammer with a short leather grip. The dwarves knelt before Odin, laying the hammer down.

    "It has been made just as you requested, All-Father," said Eitri, the greatest forge master of the Dwarves. "Only when one is truly worthy may they hold the hammer, the definition, according to your wishes. Its name--Mjolnir"

    "You have done well, Eitri," Odin replied. "I can feel its raw energy. It will make a fine weapon for my son when he is able to wield it."

    Thor grinned cockily, dropping his axe, Jarnbjorn. "When you say, father? Don't you mean now? I have slain countless foes, the Vikings of Midgard have bathed me with their praises and worship, they hail all of us Aesir as the greatest!" Thor jabbed a finger for effect as lightning cracked the sky. Several of the other gods applauded and shouted in cheer.

    Odin merely snorted. "Yet you still fail what it means to be worthy." He gestured toward the hammer. "Grip it if you must. But know that you will be embarrassed before all the gods. But let it be a lesson to you to be more humble!"

    Thor rolled his shoulders, not loosening his smile as he strode toward the hammer. He bent down, gripping it, and pulled. Nothing. Thor's face paled. He tugged harder, then harder. He gripped with both hands, trying to wrench the hammer up, his veins pulsing on his biceps. After a moment, he stepped away, panting.

    "I-I do not understand," Thor stuttered. "I have grown so strong. I haven't faced any foe too great. Why should a hammer such as this be impossible for me to lift? How can I fight with a weapon that is too heavy?"

    Odin laughed. "You poor fool. It is not so difficult to pick up because of its heft, but because you . . . are . . . not . . . worthy."

    Thor stepped aside, dismayed and embarrassed. He could hear his brother, Loki, chuckling from the side.

    "You have done well, Eitri," Odin said. "From here on out, you shall be known as the King of the Dwarves!"

    Eitri's eyes widened and swept a quick bow. "I thank you, All-Father. You are far too gracious."

    "Nonsense! For you have crafted the greatest weapon of all--Mjolnir!"

Chapter 3: Honor is What You Make it

 20 Years Later . . .

   Thor snarled as Jarnbjorn tore jagged cuts through Anglo-Saxons. His fellow Vikings slithered into villages, ransacking homes and pillaging their goods. Thor himself bashed into a home and found a woman, terrified staring up at him. Wiping blood from his eyes, Thor got a better look at the pale woman. Dirt plastered her skin, but still, she was beautiful. Oh, how he had craved for a woman. He could convince any of the Norse women with him here today to lie with him, but he wanted something different.

    Thor took one step forward, then halted as she squealed and stumbled on her belly for a knife. She picked it up and turned it over toward him.

    No, he thought. This is not what it means to be worthy. To take a woman against her will? He then thought of all the women he had slept with, of those he could remember. Had those been just? Those with the mortals? They only took him because he was a god. But, that was all. They didn't love him and perhaps they were even terrified of him. Oh All-Father, how could I be so dense?

    Thor sighed and turned around. "Hide yourself, woman." He spoke in the Anglo-Saxon tongue. "I won't let them hurt you." He exited outside and let the door shut behind him. He cringed as he watched a Viking slam his axe into a man's back and laugh viciously as he ran past. 

    No, this is all wrong. This is not fighting honorably. This is slaughter. All-Father! How could I be such a fool?!

    "Stop!" Thor yelled. As his voice boomed, thunder roared above and the clouds darkened. The clangor of weapons silenced and the Vikings slowly made their way to their god.

    "What's the matter, Thor?" Bjorn asked, the leader of the Viking band. "We have only just landed in England. It's far too soon to rest."

    "No. There will be no more of this. It's over."

    "Over? What do you mean over?"

    "I mean it's time for you all to sail back home. Don't worry, I will see to it that the tides remain calm. It will not be arduous."

    Bjorn spat, raising his bloody axe. "Oh no, you don't get to decide that."

    Thor's blue eyes flicked toward him, a flash of lightning reflecting off them. "I do. This was wrong. This will not bring glory. It's senseless murder. It is not worthy of you or me."

    Bjorn laughed hysterically. "I have seen you slay many men and women since I was a boy. Yet now, you say it is wrong? Senseless? You've always taken what you've wanted, Thor. Why stop now? You're the bloody god of thunder! How can you choose to not wet your axe?!"

    "There are circumstances where battles are necessary or just. I see that now. My father tried to teach me for years, but I was too foolish. I thought if I could become victorious over as many enemies as possible I would be worthy . . . but I was wrong."

    Bjorn spat. "What are you rambling on about? You know." Bjorn hefted his axe onto his shoulder. "Fight be Thor Odinson. I challenge you to a duel. You've grown soft. Maybe I'll attain those godly powers of yours by severing your head!"

    Thor trembled. Bjorn was a friend, yet . . . to deny him a duel? It would be wrong. The disrespect and dishonor. Is it worthy to be dishonorable? Thor asked himself. No. Thor lowered his axe from his shoulder and nodded.

    "Very well, Bjorn. I accept your challenge."

    Bjorn smiled.

    The circle was drawn and the two warriors stood several paces away from each other as others surrounded them. Thor held his long-handled axe with one hand, awaiting Bjorn to pounce. They were given the go-ahead to begin and Bjorn made the first move, charging forward with his wooden shield.

    Thor swung, shattering Bjorn's shield with a single blow. Moments after, Bjorn's axe came slicing down in an arc. Catching the handle with his left hand, Thor slammed his head against Bjorn's and twisted the weapon from his grip. Caught up in the moment, Thor took Bjorn's axe and slit his throat open.

    The Viking collapsed, gripping his bloody throat with one hand and his other aimlessly trying to reach toward Thor. The god gave him what he wanted, tossing him down his axe. Bjorn gripped the axe and moments later, he faded.

    "I will see you in Valhalla, my friend." The others then cheered, patting Thor heavily on the back. Thor snarled, "Get going! We are leaving tonight." Quitely the rest of them faded.

    Thor stared down at Bjorn's corpse as rain poured down from above, forming the tears his eyes could not. Did I do right? Was that worthy? It was honorable, surely? Therefore, worthy? 

    A light shone from the corner of Thor's eye and he saw a rider on a white-winged horse coming down. A Valkyrie. The Valkyrie was Krista, garbed in silver armor with long silverish blonde hair. 

    "Thor Odinson, yet another slain by your hands," she said.

    "Do not belittle me. I took no joy in slaying him. He was a friend."

    "I am always honored to bring a soul into Valhalla, but he could have spent many more days of glory on Midgard. So why then, Thor Odinson, did you slay a friend if you took no joy in it?"

    "He challenged me to a duel. It would be dishonorable to him to refuse. Now one day, I will be able to drink mead with him in the halls of Valhalla. No?"

    "Only if you yourself reach an honorable death. But Thor Odinson, do not let yourself be ruled by the laws of men or gods. What is written, is not always what is right."

    Thor eyed her curiously. "What do you mean?"

    She shrugged. "You are the god of thunder, Thor. Someday to be the All-Father. Laws will be written by you one day. Would it not be prudent to come up with your own values? To decide what you deem right or just--"

    "Or worthy," he finished.

    She frowned then shrugged. "Or worthy," she agreed.

    "You have given me much to consider, Krista. I have learned much this day."

    After that, Thor took the Norse back to their home and returned to Asgard. He considered entering the armory to attempt to retrieve Mjolnir but decided otherwise. He knew, he still knew that he was not yet worthy.

Chapter 4: He is Worthy

100 Years Later . . .

    Thor sat, staring down at the waters beneath the Rainbow Bridge took sight of multiple different realms. However, something particular caught his eye. Jormungand.

    "What on bloody Asgard is Loki's son up to now?!" Thor clutched his axe and ran to the Rainbow Bridge. At the end, his old friend, Heimdall.

    "Prince Thor," Heimdall said. "Where are you wanting to go today? Back to Midgard, I presume?"

    "Sadly no. The Midgard Serpent is in Jotunheim tearing apart villages."

    "Jormungand? Jotunheim?" Heimdall gave a painful smile. "Why in All-Father's name would you go? Are you making certain he doesn't spread havoc into the other realms?"

    Thor felt hurt by his friend's carelessness. "What? No. I mean, yes, I do want to stop him from hurting more of the realms, but I must save Jotunheim too!"

    "It's just Jotunehim, Prince Thor. There is more than enough time to rally together the other Aesir. Go and warn--"

    "No!" Thor clenched Heimdall's golden cloak. "I will go now! And I will stop Jormungand . . . or die trying!"

    Heimdall glared fiercely but nodded. He turned, using his sword, Hofund to teleport Thor to Jotunheim.

    Thor landed in the snowy wilderness, his red cape flapping in the winds. Ahead, he could see the massive serpent rising with his jaws spread open in cruel delight.

    "Curse you brother, for I know it was you who released your son on this world." Thor dashed across the snowfields, large pillars of snow plowing aside as he ran forward at superhuman speed. As he neared the serpent, he propelled himself into the air, raising his axe high.

    "Ah, Thor!" Jormungand hissed, turning his head slowly toward the thunder god. "How unfortunate to see you again."

    Before Thor's axe could reach the serpent, its tail came swimming upward, bashing into Thor's ribs. The god flew downward, his axe flinging from his hands, as he fell he fired a bolt of lightning from his palm. The lightning split in two as it neared the serpent, missing it entirely. Ah, Hel! My precision is always so terrible! Thor slammed into the snow, feeling a heaving pain in his side where the beast had hit him. Moments later, the tail swatted against his chest, pushing him deeper into the ground creating a crater.

    Jormungand cackled as he turned his yellow eyes closer to Thor. "Oh my, oh how the mighty have fallen. But you're not mighty . . . you never have been. You're just the pompous arrogant son of the All-Father!" The serpent pulled his head back, a gurgling sound raging in the back of his throat as he prepared to snap his jaws down at Thor.

    "Y-You're wrong," Thor mumbled. His palm twitched, lightning surging throughout him. I am more than that." The skies rumbled, turning black as lightning streaked above. Jormungand only gave a slight pause above. "I am the god of thunder! I am Thor!!!" The serpent lurched, nearing Thor's body in seconds. "And I! AM WORTHY!!!!"

    Mjolnir flung into Thor's palm a rage of lightning flashed into the beast's mouth. Jormungand flinched backward in pain and terror. Thor flew upward as lightning raged all around him.

    "Come beast! Let me show you just exactly, who I am!"