Ve paused at a counter on the way to our seats. “Two jravn,” he said, passing the man behind the counter a coin.
“I’m okay,” I said quickly.
Ve looked skeptical. “Did you forget how good it tastes?”
I didn’t care to tempt fate today. “My stomach is upset already,” I said. “I’ll give it time to settle.” He understood easily enough, and I didn’t have to face the confusion I’d pushed aside as I struggled to understand how I could have survived drinking jravn. Until I figured it out, I wanted to stay as far away from the liquid as possible.
The next bar we passed was more difficult to push by, as it was overflowing with gods writing numbers on parchment and passing them to the front, each calling out different numbers ranging from one to twenty.
“I’ve got a good feeling about twenty,” a booming voice said. It was Thor, downing jravn and standing a head taller than the others. “I got an early look at them, and that one is a fighter.”
Svana stood beside him. As we passed, she gave me a funny look. It wasn’t as cynical as the first night, but more pondering. “It’ll be interesting this year,” she said as she nursed her own drink. We passed before I caught anything else.
“What was that?” I asked Ve as we finally broke through.
He started up stairs leading to our seats. “They bet on the winner.”
I looked back over my shoulder to the mass of gods all giving their guesses. “But we haven’t met them.”
“I think that’s the point of it,” Ve said. “It makes it more fun. There will be other rounds of betting after we meet them and after their first round.” He paused. “Did you want to bet?”
I shook my head quickly. “I don’t want a part of this.”
A tiny squeeze of my hand was his reply.
He pulled back a curtain to lead us to our seats. We overlooked the arena with a tarped roof to block the sun, so nothing could hinder our view of the champions as they were presented. They’d come in a line to the front, Ve had said, and we’d be close enough to see the fear in their eyes.
“I thought Vikings worshiped fighting,” Ve said. He sat in his seat and folded his feet over one another.
“We worship strength,” I corrected him. “Not pointless death.”
His voice was kind, as if he were trying to give me a reason to be okay with this. “It’s not pointless to us. It’s a sign of honor and respect.”
“And entertainment,” I added, taking my seat.
The scent of turned dirt and burning oil filled the air. Smoke clouded it, pluming from the outer ridges where iron stakes had been plunged into the ground and lit aflame. Besides the chaos near the betting booth, the rest of the gods were falling into the seats, nearly a thousand of them, filling the arena with their majestic presence. It was growing easier to not feel dwarfed around them, but something inside me still squirmed at their nearness.
Odin and Frigg sat nearby with their gazes fixed on the crowds. Odin dressed in hues of gold, from his breastplates to the beads in his beard, while Frigg was shades of silver like the moon in a full-length dress with long sleeves, delicate embroidery on the neckline, and a necklace with a single pearl. They might not sit in their usual place of glory, but they were still hard to miss.
Frigg caught my gaze and winked.
I smiled back, then faced the door as trumpet sounded.
Since my temporary grandparents had given up their seats of honor for me and Ve, we had their job of welcoming the mortals in. But even as Ve stood to welcome the other gods and ask them to take their seats, their eyes were hungrier for the mortals than for the lost goddess who had returned.
That was a relief. Their fascination with me was fading. Soon I’d be forgotten and they wouldn’t mind when I slipped out of Asgard.
Ve waited until most were in their seats. Then he spread out his arms. “It’s a good day for the Champion Games, is it not?” he asked. The crowd roared.
Ve had left his hair down for today, and it hung like a dark lion’s mane. His bronzed skin glistened in the heat, and though he was dulling his excitement for my sake, some of it still danced in his eyes. His weapons hung at his side instead of on his back—a broad sword and long-tipped knife. Their black sheaths blended in with the leathers he wore, and he looked as if he’d been born wielding them.
Ve reached a hand to guide me from my seat. I stood at his side, taking it all in. The wind pulled dirt from the arena into my eyes, but I couldn’t take them off the door that was being unbolted. The mortals could surely hear as Ve addressed everyone. “This year is special for me, as it is the first year I get to watch alongside my fiancée.” His eye gleamed when he peeked to me. I managed a grin back.
“For centuries,” he continued, “mortals have competed in the Champion Games as a sign of their devotion to us, and in return, we bless them with our favor. Each time, they impress us with their resilience, maneuvers, and grit. I’ve known of their strength, but it wasn’t until my betrothed returned to me that I saw what the Vikingsare capable of. She’s shown me what it looks like to be a survivor, how to fight for what you want, and how to get back on your feet when you get knocked down.”
I doubted I’d shown him all that in the couple of days we’d known each other, but the audience soaked it up. I kept like a silent statue at his side, counting down the moments until this could be over.
“I’m confident if Ruin was placed amongst the mortals, they wouldn’t stand a chance. Lucky for us, she is back where she belongs, and I am back where I belong. At her side.” A warm hum went through the crown at his affectionate words, and Ve allowed the moment to simmer before continuing with what they came here for. “I expect if we see the same strength of Ruin through each of the mortals here, then we are in for a grand event. With that, it is my honor to present this year’s champions!”