THE ALL-FATHER’S BURDEN
Odin spent an uneasy night and felt no better in the morning. He had not seen Thor since their argument in the Vault. There had been shouting in the banquet hall as Thor told friends what had happened, but Odin had heard nothing since. Frigga had tried to reassure him that Thor’s temper would ease and this would blow over, but Odin knew better. His son felt himself to be king already, whether the ceremony had been completed or not. He would take action. It was his nature. Odin hoped only that the action would not cause more problems than it solved.
Just then, a guard rushed over to him, and Odin’s misgivings were proved correct. Thor had taken his friends and journeyed into Jotunheim. Odin felt a deep well of fury rise up within him. Thor had deliberately disobeyed his orders. So, too, had Heimdall, who should not have let anyone pass on the Bifrost—especially not a war party going to Jotunheim.
“Tell the barn master to have Sleipnir saddled and my battle gear readied immediately,” he ordered the guard. It had been many years since Odin had seen the frozen realm of Jotunheim, but apparently his fate held yet one more trip to that realm. He hoped it would be in time to save Thor from his own foolishness.
Moments later, Odin raced across the Rainbow Bridge astride his eight-legged steed. Odin was right to worry. Thor—along with Loki, the Warriors Three, and Lady Sif—had broken the truce and entered Jotunheim, thereby endangering them all.
The wind whipped Odin’s face, but he didn’t notice. His anger had been replaced by fear. Jotunheim was nothing but an icy wasteland now. Its surface cracked and broke apart constantly, leaving less and less of the realm. And the Frost Giants were fierce warriors with the ability to create weapons made of ice that were as sharp as the finest Asgardian blades. He did not want to think about what Thor and his band of five would be going through right now. He urged his horse to go faster.
Odin felt the familiar sense of his body being tugged and pulled out of proportion and then a sudden rush as all his molecules came crashing back together. A moment later there was a great ripping sound and a hole opened up in front of him. Beyond it he could make out the white ice of Jotunheim—and Thor. His son and the other warriors were completely surrounded by Frost Giants!
Landing, Sleipnir reared up, his powerful front legs pawing the air. Odin’s arrival stopped everyone in his or her tracks, giving Odin the chance to race over to Laufey. Odin reined Sleipnir in next to the Jotun king, and said, quietly enough that only Laufey could hear, “Laufey. End this.”
“Your boy sought this out,” Laufey said. He addressed Odin with respect, but no fear. They were both kings in their own realms, and Laufey feared no one.
“You’re right. These are the actions of a boy,” Odin said. “Treat them as such. You and I can stop this before there’s further bloodshed.”
Laufey sized Odin up, seeing the All-Father aged but still powerful. Odin saw the same in his Jotun counterpart. Laufey’s blue skin was aged and wrinkled, but there was still pride in his stance—and strength. He shook his head. “We are beyond diplomacy now, All-Father,” Laufey replied. “He’ll get what he came for—war and death.” Looking over at his son, Odin saw that he looked beaten and worn, as did the others. Fandral was badly wounded in the shoulder. He staggered, barely able to keep his feet. Volstagg, too, was wounded, with a blackened, frostbitten arm. Odin also saw that Laufey had begun to form a blade of ice in his right hand. The Jotun king was not willing to forgive Thor’s offense. With two of Thor’s companions wounded and the Asgardians outnumbered, Odin knew any full-scale battle might well end badly.
He knew what must be done. Laufey made his move, raising the ice blade and striking it toward Odin—but the All-Father was prepared. He raised his mighty spear, Gungnir, high over his head and slammed it down into the ice. The massive impact knocked back the advancing Frost Giants and caused the ice to break and crack. Odin then quickly called upon the Bifrost. Another hole ripped the sky, and before Laufey or the other Frost Giants could react, Odin pulled himself and the other Asgardians up and out of Jotunheim.
They were safe for the moment. But Laufey would not forget the insult Thor had dealt him. There would be war with the Jotuns.
And now Odin would have to deal with Thor.
As soon as they arrived back in the Observatory, Odin sent Lady Sif and the Warriors Three back to the palace. Fandral and Volstagg needed healing, and what Odin had to say was to be said only to family. Turning to his elder son, he looked for any sign that Thor was sorry for what he had done. A sign that he knew his actions were those of a bold and arrogant young man not yet ready to rule. But Odin saw none, even when he told Thor he’d been wrong for going to Jotunheim, and that he had almost put an end to a peace that had lasted for years. Even then, Thor just stood there, defiant as always.
“The Jotuns must know that the new king of Asgard will not be held in contempt,” Thor said.
“That’s pride and vanity talking,” Odin said. “Have you forgotten everything I taught you? What of a warrior’s patience?”
“While you’re patient, the Nine Realms laugh at us!” Thor shouted. “You’d give speeches while Asgard falls!”
Thor’s anger stoked Odin’s temper. “You’re a vain, greedy, cruel boy,” he growled, the words hot on his tongue.
“And you are an old man and a fool!” Thor shouted back.
Odin felt a great weariness wash over him. The trip through the Bifrost had taken more energy than he had left to give, and his son’s words stabbed at him. “Yes,” he said, his voice bitter. “I was a fool to think you were ready.”
Odin did not act without thought. And he had thought through the past day’s events quite thoroughly. He knew what he had to do, even if it meant losing his son forever. Thor needed to learn to be a true king. He needed to learn compassion and humility and patience, and he couldn’t do that here in Asgard.
Thor needed to be stripped of his godly powers and sent to a realm where he would bleed and hurt like a mortal. He had to learn to put the needs of others before his own, so that he would be able to do the same for his people. There was no other choice. Thor needed to be sent to Midgard, the mortal realm whose people called it by another name: Earth.
Stepping forward, Odin went to stand in front of the panel that controlled the Bifrost. He plunged his spear into the device, and the Observatory began to hum with energy. Turning, he walked over toward his elder son as his younger looked on.
“You are unworthy of this realm,” he said, ripping a disk off Thor’s chest armor.
“Unworthy of your title…” He ripped away Thor’s cloak.
“Unworthy of the loved ones you’ve betrayed.” Odin’s voice cracked with emotion as he went on. “I hereby take from you your powers.” He held out a hand and Mjolnir flew into it.
Thor’s eyes grew wide as the reality of the situation began to hit him. But his father wasn’t finished. “In the name of my father,” Odin continued, “and of his father before…
“I cast you out!” Odin exclaimed. The Bifrost glowed strong, and in one swift move Odin pushed Thor through the portal. In moments, his son was gone from view.
Then, looking down at the hammer he still held, Odin quietly added, “Whosoever holds this hammer, if he be worthy, shall possess the power of Thor.” With the last of his strength, he flung the hammer into the portal and watched it disappear.
A violent shaking then overtook Odin. Time was running out, and there was much at stake. Would Asgard once again be at war with Jotunheim? Would Thor ever learn his lesson and find his way back home? Would father and son ever reconcile?
And, most pressing, with Thor gone and Odin sleeping, who would rule the realm?
Odin did not act without thought. But as the Odinsleep consumed him, he feared his thoughtful actions this time might mean the very end of Asgard.…