The Benevolent Warrior (Fandral Fanfiction #1)

[3] The Golden Hall

Hey lovelies, little author's note here. All the media and images I use do not belong to me unless otherwise stated (just thought I'd clear that up) and obviously Fandral isn't mine or any of the other characters or worlds/plots that are Marvel's! :)
Peace!

Valhalla was the afterlife he had dreamed of since he was a boy. Golden halls full of bountiful feasts and beautiful women. And all of eternity to devour them. When he set foot in the grand hall, he felt a rush of relief when he saw neither Thor nor Sif -they were safe. For now.
He practically leapt forward at the sight of Odin.
"My King!" he exclaimed, dropping onto one knee. He kept his eyes low, his relief suddenly evaporated by the swelling sense of shame that festered in his heart. "My King, I... I have failed. I have failed you. I have failed Asgard."
Odin shook his head and gestured for the soldier to rise. "Come, Fandral. You died valiantly as a warrior of Asgard. Your regrets should be none."
Fandral rose slowly. "But Thor-"
"My son will defeat Hela and Ragnarok will destroy what is left of the city." Odin saw the horror on the warrior's face and softened his own features for his benefit. "Asgard, my friend, is not a place, it is a people."
Fandral nodded. There was no contest. He believed in the All-Father's words with every fibre of his being, it of his ghost more accurately, but the truth remained: his respect and adoration for the King was unchallenged.
"I do not disagree, my King, but it is for our people that I lay down my life. I should like the chance to lay it down again, protecting those that are left." He said with a slight quiver in his words. There was no denying that the King did intimidate. "And I do not doubt Thor..." he added quickly.
Odin smiled. "Yes. Thor can be trusted,that I know. As can you. Your heart always had more of an influence than your head, did it not?"
Fandral muffled a chuckle. "Yes,"
With a huffed sigh, the King gave a nod. "Your reward awaits you, Fandral, when you return." He gestured to the feast and the clusters of finely dresser women.
Fandral's grin was large and beamed of gratitude and excitement. "All-Father, I can't thank you enough... I..." he gathered himself giddily as tears pricked his eyes. His weapon of choice, his old friend, Fimbuldraugr, was in his grasp once more. He gasped at the feel of it in his hand again.
Odin smiled upon him like a father did his son. He was glad.
"Go and protect our people, Fandral son of Alakor."
With a pleased smile still on his lips, Fandral stepped down from the platform on which they stood and turned to leave, sliding his blade back into its sheath.
"One moment longer, Fandral." The King's voice was an echo. It was a gentle command. Fandral returned quickly.
"Yes, All-Father?"
Odin gestured for him to approach further. "There is something I must impress upon your mind; something you have long since forgotten. Or I should say someone."
Fandral frowned gravely. "I'm afraid I do not understand?"
Odin gave a small, amused chuckle. "Of course not. For it was you who begged me to help you forget it." Remembering the audience in the room, Odin seemed to think better of making this public knowledge. Even now in Valhalla. Instead he waved Fandral aside and led him toward a golden corner of the room, where he would part with his long-kept secret.