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fig-newtons-official · 2 years

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Somewhere In America Final

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Summoning: @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @youbloodymadgenius @hashimily

It’s finally done!!! I genuinely loved writing this series and I am going to have to blend these two universes again in the future.

———————————————————————

Shadow nodded as imperceptibly as he could at Freya’s quiet command to wait until she signaled him to run. He hastily returned to the brothers, his heart pounding as he prepared himself to have to run or fight for his life.

Hvisterk’s face was a mask as his eyes followed Shadow. Meanwhile, Ivar was scowling at the grass in front of him, occasionally glancing up at Wednesday’s misty, unearthly form. His jaw was clenched, as if he were using all of his strength to keep from speaking out of turn. He was most likely growing antsy.

Wednesday eyeballed everyone, his face revealing nothing as he stated, “We may as well get this over with. I can tell that the decay is taking its toll on the sons of Ragnar, and what a sorrowful sight it is.”

As Hvitserk helped his brother up to his feet, Shadow couldn’t help but notice that red rings had formed around his eyes and that his irises were growing cloudy, like Ivar’s. Soon he’d be coughing up maggots like his brother. Like Laura.

In turn, Ivar looked grotesque as his blue eyes gleamed from bloated, grey skin. He reeked of decay. When his lip curled in exertion, Shadow shuddered a bit when he saw that the dead man’s gums had turned black. Ivar didn’t have much longer before the rot consumed what was left of his body.

Shadow thought that he should have felt relieved that his captor was growing weak, but he just felt sick. Something was wrong here. Something was missing. They were being used. They were being tricked, they had to be. Where were the other dead men? There had to be more. Why was it that only Hvitserk and Ivar that had come for him? How could Valhalla just disappear? It didn’t add up. Nothing did.

Something was missing…

Once Ivar was standing, Hvitserk turned to Shadow, his eyes widened slightly. He was unsure, as well. At least he’d offer Shadow a merciful death if Freya couldn’t get him away from Ivar in time.

Ivar suddenly spoke with a chilling, forced calm, “Where are the rest of my brothers?” He slowly craned his neck to glower at Wednesday.

So Hvitserk’s desperate words from moments ago had gotten to him after all. But would it be enough?

Wednesday’s brows crinkled in confusion, “M’boy, they’re wandering this world in the same state as you are. You got to the prize first. Now you get to bring everyone home.”

Ivar’s scowl deepened, his eyes darkening, making him look even less human, “Ubbe was an even better hunter than both Hvisterk and I combined. My strength was always in strategy; it’s hard to become a good hunter when you can’t walk unassisted. So I ask you now, Allfather: how did we possibly beat him to the traitorous son of Odin?”

Wednesday mouth formed a tight line as he contemplated Ivar’s accusatory words. Eventually, he let out a sorrowful sigh, “I didn’t want to tell you this, for I feared that it would hinder your progress. But since you insist, I must regrettably inform you that Ubbe has already succumbed to the decay. Sigurd followed soon after. Bjorn is close as well.”

Ivar snapped, “You’re lying.”

Wednesday bowed his head in a pantomime of grief, “I wish I was. He was a good man, and a good warrior. He would’ve served us well in Ragnarok.”

Abruptly, Ivar lurched forward as more night crawlers wriggled in his lungs. The sound he made was gutteral and sickening, causing Shadow’s stomach to turn violently. Freya clapped a hand over her mouth, her face turning into an odd green hue. Hvitserk darted forward and held his brother by the shoulders just in time to keep the dead Viking from pitching onto the ground.

Ivar turned his head and wretched right in Wednesday’s direction. The bundle of maggots that flew onto the ground seemed just as distressed as Shadow and Freya were as they squirmed frantically on the ground. Wednesday watched the disgusting creatures wriggle about with no expression.

Unexpectedly, Ivar began to laugh. The laughter was cruel, his smile edged with malice as he met Wednesday’s eyes. He looked like the devil in the flesh. Hvitserk hurriedly said something to him in Norse. It sounded like he was warning his brother, but either Ivar didn’t appear to hear it or he didn’t care.

His furious, cloudy blue eyes locked with Shadow’s. The dead man’s grin widened into an animalistic snarl as his rage grew.

Ivar growled, “We’ve been played for fools.”

Shadow swallowed and stared grimly at Wednesday, “This was all for him. The only ones missing from Valhalla are you two.”

Ivar threw his head back and laughed again. Hvitserk’s face slowly morphed into a bewildered scowl. Freya turned and screeched so loudly that Shadow was certain that her fury would echo for miles, “GRIMNIR!”

Wednesday’s eyes closed, his head hanging in defeat. For a moment, the shadows flickered, as if Wednesday we’re going to fade into the wind like he was nothing but smoke.

Hvitserk held Ivar back as the other dead man suddenly tried to lunge in Wednesday’s direction. Ivar quaked with rage as he shouted, “I prayed to you! My whole life! I worshipped you! I did everything in my life for you! To prove that I was worthy of you! And you did this to me?! To us?!”

Hvitserk struggled to keep Ivar in place as he choked out, “Ivar, please! You can’t-”

“What was going to happen after we did this?” Ivar roared as he fought to get past his brother, “Were you just going to leave us here as you go free and whole again? Just let the worms and the flies eat us from the inside out?!”

Wednesday offered Ivar a nasty smile, “Now, now, Boneless. You know full well that you would have done the same had you been in my position. As you just declared to everyone within earshot, you did worship me, after all. You learned your ways from the stories about me that your mother recited to you before she put you to sleep. You’re cunning and ruthless because of me. You’re famous because of me.”

Ivar cackled bitterly, his fight stopping for a moment as he retorted, “And now we’ll die together, Allfather.”

He spat the term ‘Allfather’ like a curse, followed by another bitter cackle. He patted Hvitserk on the shoulder affectionately and let himself fall to ground, gazing up at the dusk with that sardonic, hateful mockery of a smile still crossing his lips.

Hvitserk’s eyes went desperately to Freya, “We can still go back, right? Can we get back to Valhalla before…” He put a hand to his heart. Shadow tried not to imagine the sensation of wriggling worms in his heart. He failed and shuddered, also hoping that Freya had an answer. He tried not to let his mind wander about how Laura would have experienced the same horrors within her own dead body.

She let out a shaky breath as she breathed, “I’ll try. I’ll try my damndest to make this right.”

Shadow blurted out, “Backstage. Can we get to Valhalla by going backstage?”

She shrugged helplessly, “I’m not sure. I haven’t tried in millennia. I have been tied up with trying to move on. Getting my research out there.” She looked Shadow dead in the eye as she continued grimly, “It’s as you said, Shadow, America is no place for gods.”

Shadow shook his head quickly, “We have to try. I went somewhere once before, it might’ve been Valhalla, but I’m not certain. I don’t know Asgard. Hell, it’s a miracle that I even know what Asgard is. I can tell Ivar doesn’t have much time left. We have to try something.”

Shadow glanced at Wednesday. The old man was uncharacteristically silent, giving Shadow the forlorn look of defeat. This had been his last hope of returning. Despite everything that had happened, Shadow still didn’t know how he felt about losing Wednesday again. All he knew for sure was that he wanted to get him and the dead men where they belonged, which was far away from him.

Shadow’s eyes flitted back to Freya’s as he huffed out, “We have to try.”

Freya nodded towards the World Tree and began to stroll towards it, her lips pressed into a tight, stressed line. Shadow did something he never thought he would do and offered a hand to help Ivar up. Ivar raised an eye brow, equally surprised by this gesture. He smirked wryly at Shadow and allowed the big man to pull him up.

When Ivar was steadily on his crutches, they followed Freya together. Meanwhile, Wednesday clicked his tongue and ruefully said to no one in particular, “I’ll just stay here, I suppose.”

Ivar’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond. He kept moving forward. Hvisterk spared a hostile glance over his shoulder at the old, dying god. Shadow didn’t want to look back. Not ever again.

As they approached, he watched Freya raise her long, elegant index finger to her mouth and bite down. She turned to the tree and began to trace ruins with her bleeding finger, her lips moving quickly with no sound coming out. Her eyes were burning with concentration.

“How did you know?” Ivar inquired quietly, his voice tinged in bitterness. “How did you know that he was playing us?”

“Maybe in your time, Wednesday was a god worth worshipping. Nowadays, he’s been reduced to little more than a con man.” Shadow replied ruefully. “Stunts like these are just kind of his thing.”

Hvitserk gave him a strange look, “Yet you still don’t want to let him go.”

Was it that obvious? Hvitserk may have been goofy, but he definitely was perceptive. Shadow conceded with a slow nod.

“Don’t ask me why. I can’t explain it myself.” He whispered.

Though none of them could see it, the corners of Wednesday’s lips quirked slightly, so subtly that most people would miss the change in expression. Even fewer would be unable to interpret what it meant.

Freya walked towards the World Tree and was promptly swallowed by its bark. Shadow was far past the point of questioning these things and followed her, finding himself under a blanket of stars. Stars that normally could only be seen from the most remote places on Earth.

“We must be quick.” Freya announced.

No one questioned her. They followed her wordlessly. In the distance, Shadow could see the strange metal spider that he and Wednesday had encountered during one of the instances that they’d gone Backstage together. He dared not go near it. From the corner of his eye, he noticed Hvitserk glancing at the mechanical spider curiously.

He uttered to the dead man, “Trust me. You don’t want to know what that is.”

———————————————————————

They wandered until they found a strange door sitting, not connected to anything. It was the shape of a teardrop, carved with the image of a great tree. It’s handle looked like the hilt of a decorative sword.

By this point, Shadow’s migraine had come back with a vengeance. He was nauseous and his left eye was throbbing as if it had just been punched.

Freya guided them through the door, her eyes searching Shadow in concern. He’d definitely been back there for too long.

The door lead to the largest dining room that Shadow had ever seen. Rows of sturdy, long oak tables stretched as far as the eye could see, covered in food that looked absolutely heavenly. There room was filled with loud conversation amongst the warriors seated at the table, who ranged from ancient to more modern. Shadow spied what appeared to be some soldiers wearing what appeared to be uniforms from the first World War laughing with Vikings as if they were old friends. A Zimbabwean soldier spilled mead on himself and the Samurai seated next to him. The Samurai merely playfully clapped his friend on the arm and the pair pretended to argue as they cleaned it up. The hall appeared to be endless, bathed in the golden glow of warm candle light. A Great Hall indeed.

Freya quietly explained, “Since the Viking age ended, we’ve had to outsource. This Hall is now shared by any warrior that is willing and capable of defend the world in the final battle for the world, regardless if they are Viking or otherwise.”

Shadow turned to face her and was instantly stunned. She stood even taller now, her eyes and hair glowing bright gold, her angular face seemingly sculpted from the finest marble. Yet at the same time, he saw a great falcon whose wings stretched across the room as well as a large, proud boar with golden whiskers. All of these images of the incredible goddess flowed together as one.

Ivar’s crutches thudded behind them both, one of them purposefully tapping against Shadow’s calf. Thankfully, he was careful to avoid using the pointy end in his pursuit to be a nuisance.

Ivar snidely said, “Yes, it’s lovely to be back, truly. But alas, I’m still feeling rather dead.”

Hvitserk followed behind him and nodded gravely, “I also don’t feel any different.”

The each incarnation of the goddess rolled her eyes, then waved her hand towards the tables, “Drink the mead. Outside, if you please. Otherwise, you are cleaning it up.”

As Hvitserk walked past to grab one of what appeared to be thousands of bottles of mead for himself and his brother, Shadow heard him whisper, “Clean what up?”

To which, Ivar made a face and shrugged a shoulder.

Shadow thought about telling them what happens when the Dead have rot expelled from their bodies, but the a devious part of him decided that it would be more fitting to allow them be surprised. Let them be the ones on the ground feeling like shit, for once.

As the pair stalked out, Shadow and Freya stood by the door, gazing quietly at the warriors feasting and joking together. They stood so quietly that it was uncomfortable.

Shadow finally thought of something to break the silence, recalling something she had said to Wednesday, “So, you… you’re a researcher?”

She seemed equally relieved to have that silence be broken. “Yes. Yes, I am. I am looking into the tumor suppressor, PTEN and the possibility of reactivating it as a form of cancer treatment. It’s coming along.”

Naturally, Shadow wasn’t familiar with her field of study, so all he could contribute to the conversation was, “Wow. That’s… that’s great. Wow. Where are you doing this?”

The boar, falcon, and woman replied, “University of Michigan at Ann Arbor.”

“Oh wow.” Shadow cringed internally, realizing that he was saying ‘wow’ far too much. “I mean, that’s a nice school. That’s really good.”

“Yes, I like it.”

The door suddenly swung open again and smacked against the wall. Hvisterk stumbled in, his skin, hair and eyes lit from within by a healthy glow. Shadow hasn’t realized how young her was until he was the dead man free of the rot that had plagued him. I’m addition with looking like a baby, Hvitserk looked troubled, wiping water from his eyes with a finger.

Shadow already knew what unpleasantness Hvitserk had just endured to get his liveliness back, but was about to ask the young Viking what had happened anyway when Ivar appeared in the doorway behind his brother and snarled, “Worms. Out of every orifice!”

Shadow grimaced, not wanting to imagine what that had been like. However, at the same time, he couldn’t feel too bad for the man that had been entirely too eager to kill him.

The incarnations of Freya all appeared to smirk at the same time, “That would be why I told you to go outside.”

Ivar shook his head and huffed in response. He looked like he wanted to keep arguing, but had thought better of it. He also looked young. Young and pretty in a way that was completely incongruous with the bitter, violent man that lay under the skin.

A golden wing waved gently between Shadow and the pair of Vikings. She announced, “Time to say your goodbyes, gentlemen. Shadow needs to go back home.”

Hvisterk immediately flung himself towards Shadow and pulled the larger man into a hearty embrace. Shadow reciprocated, whispering into Hvitserk’s ear, “Thanks for not letting your brother kill me.”

Hvitserk clapped Shadow on the back and chuckled, “No problem.”

He then unexpectedly kissed Shadow on the cheek and sauntered off. And did he just wink?

Shadow looked at Ivar in confusion. The only comment Ivar had on his brother’s surprising show of affection was, “I have no intentions of kissing you.”

“Good.”

“I suppose I should thank you for getting us back here. You have my sincerest gratitude.” Ivar spoke as if offering Shadow anything other than biting sarcasm was the hardest thing in the world for him to do.

Shadow nodded deeply.

“That being said, I should possibly also apologize for wanting to torture you to death. So… I’m sorry. I guess.”

This was one of the worst apologies that Shadow had ever heard, but truthfully, he was surprised that he even got one.

He put a hand on Ivar’s shoulder gently and said, “All is forgiven.”

Ivar nodded once, his intense blue eyes scanning Shadow’s face.

Shadow patted the Viking in the shoulder once as he continued, “Ivar, I hope I never see you again.”

Ivar’s familiar mocking grin spread across his face as he laughed and pivoted to join his brethren.

Now, all that was left was for Shadow to return home and find some way to sell that house that felt so empty. It was time to move on.

#and yes Wednesday is still sitting there to this day lol #he’s just chilling #American gods #Vikings #american gods x vikings #shadow moon #ivar the boneless #hvisterk whiteshirt

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