Music: "Heldentod" by Vogelfrey

Playing the Fringe against the Center (Midgard for Entertainment II)

A century or two later, Thor returned from his first battle in Midgard, where he had accompanied Balder as his page-boy, as was customary for adolescent future warriors. And hadn't Loki, slightly younger, been so envious when they had set out? The enthusiasm of youth …

The thunderer came back aged beyond his years, and deeply changed. Now he knew why Balder was so often brooding.

All those tales of glorious battle, of slaying worthy enemies on the battlefield, or holding a narrow strait against forces superior in numbers – those were lies, lies paid singers spun.

Three legions they had defeated and killed to the last man on the narrow strip between moor and forest. The battle had not been glorious – a miserable, cowardly casting of javelins from behind peat and sod walls, at freezing, famished soldiers weighted down by their sodden shields and cloaks in the pouring rain Thor had conjured.

Not only had the battle been inglorious, it had been brought about by trickery. For years, at Father's insistence, Balder had been scheming: playing good ally, befriending decision-makers, while behind their backs gathering tribesmen who would not pay taxes. Valuable exercise, Father had said, before dealing with the politics of the important realms.

Part of that valuable exercise was playing the fringe against the center, after a long time of having that center built up. The brothers had even been to Rome, and despite the many flaws – the constant noise and traffic jam, the miasmatic air, the cheaply built multi-storey tenement houses threatening to collapse or go up in flames any time – Thor had been impressed by the mortals' efforts to emulate civilization. The temple of the Lightning Wielder on Capitol Hill was a particularly nice touch, even though the statue looked more like Father. The mortals had of course jumbled the gods' functions over time and got the names all wrong, but it was the thought that counted.

He couldn't help it, he liked the feeble humans who still strove to make the best out of their short lives and build something greater and more durable than themselves. And yet, it all would have to fall just so that Balder could learn how to do it. The Allfather of all the realms had decided so, for the greater good. At least that was what Father and the teachers said when asked.

His and Balder's newest henchmen were a bit more down-to-earth (literally also, of course), accepting that some gods simply liked bloodshed. When Balder had refused to take the proffered heads of the fallen, they had simply nailed them to the trees. This time, Thor had managed to keep the bile down.

Loki had been waiting by the observatory. On the way to the palace, he pestered his brothers with questions about Midgard. Tales of their deeds would come later, in the hall.

„So you have been to Rome?" Loki asked.

Balder nodded.

„Have you been to the circus? I so wish I could go see the circus, but Father is too busy. You're so lucky."

„Loki." Balder drew in a deep breath. „That circus – how can I put it? It's not like the travelling jesters from Alfheim."

„I know!" Loki interjected happily. „They arrest all those who refuse to worship us and feed them to the lions."

Thor looked into his little brother's shining eyes, and wished he were a farmer's son, leading a peaceful simple life among the Realm Eternal's apple trees.