Connor was captured by Thor’s somber aspect.
“The god staggered back nine steps,” he whispered, “the battle won. But he was also dying, defeated by the Serpent's venom. His great, heroic strength – strength that many thought had been inexhaustible – was gone forever. It had been the price for his victory. And knowing the fingers of death curling around him, he lifted his hammer high and drove it into a mountain, burying it deep into the earth to leave a testament of his courage. Then, succumbing at last to the Serpent's poison, the titan fell to the ground and died.”
Connor waited, watching the brooding face. “So it's strength of heart that won the battle,” he said, breaking the strange but comfortable silence. “Strength of heart. Courage.”
“Yes.” Thor nodded. “Strength of heart. Courage. Love. Honor.” He smiled narrowly. “It's only a story, a myth of my people. But truth does not change, I think.”
Silence.
Thor bent his head, somber. “It is a story that meant much to me when I was a child,” he continued, a light laugh. “And perhaps it still does. Perhaps that's why I believe each man has his own destiny with Ragnarok. A worthy death delivered to him by God only if his life, his courage, and his heart have earned it for him.”
A vague fear settled over Connor. “What's it like, living your life like that?”
Thor smiled. “It is a gray, lonely place, my friend. But any place can feel like home ... if you stay long enough.”
Silent, Connor met the resolute gaze.
Thor rose, gazing down a moment. “I will return to the tower tonight by the old riverbed.” He smiled. “It is a long ride, but I feel a need to be alone tonight... in the cold. Beneath the stars. But I will come back later tomorrow and tell Jordan a story.” He smiled. “Perhaps I will tell him the story of Jormungand and Ragnarok.”
Thor seemed to shrug off the aspect of gloom as he turned from the table, the crest of his shaggy head only slightly lower than the eight-foot ceiling. As he opened the door, Connor again found his voice.
“Hey, Thor.”
The giant turned in the doorway, waiting. Connor saw that the darkness outside was blocked out by his titanic form, overcome by the red-bearded face, the Nordic image of strength.
“You never said which Norse god it was that Jormungand killed,” Connor added, staring.
Thor hesitated, smiling faintly.
“It was Thor,” he said, smile fading beneath a suddenly somber gaze. “It was Thor that Jormungand killed.”
Vaguely disturbed by the late-night conversation with Thor, Connor walked silently into Jordan's room, uncertain of the reason for his fear or why he wanted to make sure his boy was secure and warm.
And as he bent to pull the covers higher, Connor sensed Jordan gazing up at him. Connor smiled, sitting down on the bed and laying an arm across the tiny figure. There was a moment of warm silence.
“We're friends, ain’t we?” Jordan whispered.
Connor laughed lightly, nodding. “Yeah, buddy, we're friends. We're best friends.”
Jordan stared, smiling.
“I tell you what.” Connor bent slightly closer. “When we go fishing tomorrow, we'll try and catch one of those real big trout. Then we'll clean it with our knives and cook it for supper!”
Jordan laughed. “Yeah! That would be fun!” Then he paused, adding quietly, “I always want to be with you, Daddy.”
Connor stared, shaken, not knowing what to say. It took him a moment to recover from the four-year-old's words. Then he leaned forward and spoke, “And I always want to be with you, buddy.”
Jordan stared up, serious.
“I've got a good idea,” Connor whispered. “Maybe you and me could have a secret sign? Something that just the two of us know about? How's that? Is that a good idea?”
Jordan smiled. His eyes widened.
“All right, let's do this,” Connor said, raising his hand, fingers spread to the air. “Do you think we can keep this sign as a secret?” He whispered, “It's got to be something that just you and me know about!”
Jordan laughed, raising his hand.
Gently, Connor placed their hands together. “All right, then. When I hold up my hand, it'll mean I'm always thinking about you! And when you hold up your hand, it will mean that you're always thinking about me! How do you like that for a sign?”
Jordan grinned and pressed his hand firmly against Connor's. “Yeah. I like that.”
“Okay,” Connor continued. “That's enough for right now. Because you need to go nite-nite. Then in the morning we'll go fishing, and Thor is going to come back in the afternoon and tell you a big story.”