With Bailey and Byron safely ensconced within their makeshift carrier, the five of us headed toward the Hall of The Gods. Gruldia reached up and took my hand in hers, holding it to her cheek. Her long ears wiggled happily.

Freyr looked over at us and smiled. “You make her happy, Son. Good man,” he said.

“You do, Ivor. You treat me like a person and not just a fucktoy, or just a Cleric. I’m not used to it,” she said softly.

“That’s because you are a person, Gruldia. A sweet, kind and loving person, as far as I can tell. I will never understand people who treat women as simply objects,” I said, shaking my head.

“Shall I tell him, Gruldia?” Freyr asked the diminutive Goblin. Gruldia nodded sadly, caressing her cheek with my hand.

“Son, In Goblin society, women have no rights. At all. Period. If a son were to impregnate his mother, he could. It would be frowned upon, but not illegal. If a man took a liking to another man’s daughter, he could buy her. Or trade for her. Or, if the father didn’t want her, he could just take her.

“Gruldia here was nearly sixty before she decided to become a Cleric. I want you to let that sink in. Sixty years of being treated as an object. As a broodmare. I want you to think about the absolute worst that you have heard of on Earth, and imagine it going on for sixty years. Goblins are fertile from the time they are ten til their death. Most males live to be around five hundred. Females, about twice that. She is about middle-aged. Much like you. I am not trying to scare you off from your chosen path, but I do want you to be fully informed of what you’re going to find. Wounded doesn’t even begin to cover it,” he explained.

I stopped in the hallway and knelt beside my Goblin. “Is that true, Gruldia? Everything he said?” I asked softly. Gruldia looked down and nodded sadly. I let her hand go, and she wrapped her arms around her midsection, turning to leave.

I caught her and wrapped my arms around her, and held my Goblin tightly. “I will treat you with the respect and kindness you deserved for your whole life. For however long we may be together, if you’ll have me,” I said softly into her ear.

Her breath caught in her throat, and she began to cry. She clung to me as if I were the only thing tethering her to the world. “I’ll have you, Ivor. As long as we can.” she said between sobs. She wept for a few more minutes, and was halted by Frey’s gentle hand on her shoulder.

“Trust me. He will do what he says, Gruldia. Now dry your eyes. We have gods to confer with. And I think yours might be eager to see you,” he said with a smile.

Gruldia nodded and wiped her face off, and took my hand again. We headed down the hall, and via several twists and turns, we eventually arrived at the Hall of The Gods. I reached into my pocket and removed my house key, but before I could touch it to the lock, Freyr stopped me.

“Allow me. We need a larger area than your house,” he said.

I stepped back and watched as his hand phased through the door, and heard some clicks. He removed his hand, and pushed the door open.

On the other side of the door was a lush green field of grass, dotted here and there with the occasional tree. I could hear birds in the distance, and I smelled the fresh spring rain that had fallen the night before. If I strained my ears, I could also hear the steady mewling of the sea. Gruldia looked into the doorway with awe, and I could hear her whisper “Wow”.

I took a deep breath of the air, and stepped inside, leading my impressed companion by the hand. “Asgard, Sir?” I asked.

Freyr shook his head. “Vígríðr, Son. As Ragnarök is not yet near, I felt this to be a good place for your first meeting of many. Objections?” he explained.

“Seriously? You decided to meet with the other gods of the Council in the same place where the final battle occurs?” I asked, receiving a nod. “Talk about a subtle flair for the dramatic,” I mumbled.

“Final battle? What are you talking about?” asked Gruldia.

“In my mythology, we are standing on the field whereupon my gods will do battle with Surtr and the fire giants of Muspellheim, and the frost giants of Niflheim. The Norse always had an eye for theatrics,” I explained.

“Huh. You guys are strange,” she said. Freyr and I shrugged at each other, and we walked on, seeing a table in the distance.

As we neared it, I began to notice tiny creatures zipping this way and that, setting objects on the table. I took a closer look, and realized it was food and drink. I could identify several items, most likely from my plane, but many were absolutely alien to me.

As we arrived at the table, several of the creatures stopped in front of us, then whisked off to somewhere else. We each took a seat and waited. Presently, those same creatures returned with food and drink. Freyr was presented with a mug of strong beer, and a plate piled high with cooked vegetables, grains and generous slices of cooked meat of some sort. It smelled like beef.

Gruldia was given a flask of what looked like red juice, and a bowl of a hearty stew of some sorts. She looked like she could cry. “It’s the same stew the village women made when I was sick. We may not have had any rights, but we were the only ones allowed to tend to the sick and wounded,” she said quietly.

I was presented with a pitcher of fresh lemonade, a plate of lobster meat, and a perfectly cooked and seasoned well-marbled steak with a good-sized loaf of bread. “Well. They certainly have me to rights…” I murmured.

I looked from Freyr to Gruldia, and smiled. As I closed my eyes, inhaling the various scents, I heard a rustling, and when I opened them, there were over a hundred fifty other deities seated at the long table, all looking at the three of us.

I waved nervously. They didn’t budge. “Well hello there, everyone. I’m Ivor Freyrsson. I’m sure you already know Freyr, and this is Gruldia Blood-Letter. I also have with me my two companions, Bailey and Byron, as well. Who do I have the pleasure of meeting?” I said.

All but one of the deities sat back, regarding their food. That one was staring at Gruldia. “And what are you doing here, female?” he asked imperiously. He looked like someone had taken a cane toad, mixed it with a Komodo dragon and anthropomorphized it. The appearance was altogether disturbing.

“Um, Freyr invited me, Sire,” she said, not looking up from her food.

“Did he, now? Such an affront will not go unnoticed. You are being watched, Freyr,” he said.

“I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t speak to either of them like that, Sir,” I said quietly, cutting into my steak.

The buzz of activity halted.

“You address a god, creature. You will show some respect!” he boomed.

“I am addressing a petty tyrant, is what I’m doing.” I leaned my elbow on the table, pointing my fork at the incensed deity. “I may be the newest Council member, but I absolutely refuse to tolerate an asshole. I don’t care if that asshole is a god or a mortal. Speak to them like that again, and I’ll take issue,” I said, dipping a hunk of bread into the rich juices of my steak.

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Freyr, who had kept his eyes locked onto the irritated deity throughout the exchange, spoke up. “What my child says is correct. I’ve known him his whole life, and he will fight you. Even though you may strike him down with a single blow -and I guarantee you that he knows this- he will not back down. He will stand and fight for the ones he loves. There are four of us that he loves at this table,” he said forcefully. “Do you truly wish to continue, Xendarr?” he quietly added.

Xendarr harrumphed and sat himself down, muttering about ‘insolent mortals’. He refocused on his meal, a haunch of some unknown animal.

The quiet activity resumed just as suddenly as it had stopped.

“So, Ivor. I understand you have met a neighbor?” asked a silken feminine voice. I looked over, seeing a roughly female version of Xemu. She looked like a shaved bear, and was wearing a simple robe adorned with gilded piping.

“You must be Xemu’s goddess. Yes, ma’am. Daktu’un apparently lives somewhere along a line from my home system to what we call M31. I am excited about the prospect of having friends out in the wider universe,” I said with a smile.

“Excellent, Ivor. I am glad you feel that way. I am Grithal. While Daktu’un is not my charge, I think he will be a fantastic friend for you and your species to have. My child, Xemu, seems a little apprehensive about Humanity. Is it true that you are nearly four hundred of our years old?”

“That is correct. I gave the Council a rough estimation of our timekeeping methods while we were in session. I am younger than most and older than some. I am looking forward to serving the Council for as long as I am capable,” I said.

“Hopefully it won’t be much longer,” groused Xendarr.

“Oh, do be quiet, you overgrown toad. Ivor here was simply the first to stand up for his mate, unlike the rest of your children. Don’t act so surprised. You also voted to select a Human. Don’t be upset just because he and his species aren't as pliable as you had hoped,” Grithal shot back.

“Forgive him, he just had his hopes dashed. Apparently, he was wanting another species to lay claim to,” said a feline deity, who I assumed was Daktu’un’s.

Xendarr sat back, his arms crossed in front of his chest, looking for all the world like a petulant toddler.

“He’s fine. I expect some level of friction from at least one of your number. If he is the extent of that friction, then I shall call it welcome. Just remember what Freyr said, Xendarr. I am not afraid to die. Especially in defense of my loved ones. I would, however, much rather be on at least neutral terms with you, if it is possible,” I said levelly.

The jaguar deity looked at me appraisingly and nodded. “I am Tervan. Daktu’un is my charge. You impressed him with your knowledge of the signal. How did you come to that knowledge?” he inquired.

“Yes. Do tell us how you knew state secrets, and then just divulged them before an audience of unknown creatures, mortal,” Xendarr sniped.

“State secrets? You would be mistaken, Sir. Humanity has looked toward the stars since time immemorial. We hunger for the journey, as we are explorers by our nature. And hunters. We have publicized our reaching out towards our interstellar neighbors since we began to do so,” I explained.

Xendarr looked a little irritated at the information, and huffed. Tervan continued with, “It pleases me that you are not completely warlike, unlike some my people have come in contact with.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that, Tervan. Humanity has been fighting amongst themselves since we were swinging through the trees. If there is one thing we do better than exploring, it’s fighting,” I said.

“I think there’s one thing you at least absolutely excel at…” Gruldia muttered.

I turned red, choking on my lemonade. I coughed and hacked while the other gods laughed at my predicament, Xendarr included.

“She’s got you there, Son!” Freyr guffawed. He pounded on my back, helping me to dislodge the last of the drink.

Thoroughly embarrassed, I looked among the throng of chuckling deities, and busied myself with the lobster. “Oh, look. More delicious lobster…” I muttered, and stuffed some in my mouth. Byron stuck his nose out of the carrier, and I passed him a piece of steak. Bailey emerged a second later, tapping on the leather, and I handed him a piece, too. For good measure, I tore off a hunk of bread, and handed that to them, as well. They pinged me messages of thanks and delight.

The ice well and truly broken, I was peppered with questions from the remaining deities, ranging from general background on Humanity, to current political climates, to our state of technology. Thankfully I had brought my phone, and was able to show examples of what we had. During the lengthy conversation, Byron and Bailey slipped out of their pouch, and explored the table, getting snuggles and pets from Freyr and Gruldia.

“Interesting. How was a creature with such limited technology and experience able to devise a plan to rid my people of a plague?” asked a disembodied voice.

“Uh. Hello? I hear you, but I cannot see you,” I spoke aloud into the air.

“My apologies, but you would be unable to comprehend me, were I to take a form on this plane,” it said.

“Oh. Are you the deity of the idea I helped with their little parasite issue?” I asked.

“Yes. What do you mean, idea? You could perceive my offspring?” it asked.

“Well, yes. It had no real definitive shape, but there were sparks of randomness within it that caused me to think. Some things I’d see would remind me of clouds the day after a storm, or the sea at sunset. Things like that,” I said as I shrugged.

“Interesting. You Humans interest me. I shall have to look further into this matter. Thank you, Ivor.” it said.

“You’re quite welcome. I am glad I could help,” I said as I stretched, causing several vertebrae to shift in my spine.

“Does anyone else have anything they’d like to ask or say to my Child?” Freyr prompted.

Xendarr spoke up, “Yes. At the beginning of this meeting you spoke harshly to me. You even threatened me! Me! A literal god.” He seethed, breathing heavily. “What do you think you could do to a god, mortal?” he asked with a sneer.

I skewered a piece of surprisingly still-warm lobster, and savored the taste while I thought. “You know,” I said, swallowing. “I’m not completely sure, Xendarr. But we Humans are adaptable, curious, creative, and above all else, persistent. Once we have set our sights on something, we tend to pursue it until it yields to us or we die. For instance,” I said and wiped my lips on a napkin. “I’ve been watching you this entire time. Your every move. Your every expression. The way you look sidelong at me when you think I’m not paying any attention. The way you paled when Freyr here said something about me fighting for the ones I love. And the fact that there are four of them here.” I fixed the greenish-gray deity with a flat stare. “That notion terrifies you. I don’t know why, but if you truly wish to make a scene, I’ll figure it out quick, fast and in a hurry, then use it against you with the full force of forty years of pent up rage.” Xendarr swallowed. “Now, I’ll ask you the same question my father did. Do you truly wish to continue, Xendarr?” I asked in a low tone.

Freyr looked from me to the god, then lay his hand on my shoulder. “Son. I think enough has been said on this matter. Hasn’t it, Xendarr?” he asked.

“Y-yes. Quite enough.” Xendarr sighed and muttered “Can’t believe I’m saying this.” He took a breath and closed his eyes. “Ivor Freyrsson. I have acted rashly. Please forgive me.” He looked at me calmly and with sincerity.

Several sets of eyes were on me as I stood from my seat, and walked over to the god. “You want my forgiveness, Xendarr?” He nodded even as he recoiled slightly. I extended a hand to him.

“What…what is this supposed to mean? Freyr! Control your child!” Xendarr bellowed.

Freyr laughed, saying, “Stick your hand out, Xendarr. You’ll see. Nothing bad will happen.”

Xendarr slowly extended his hand, and I took it, shaking it with a smile. “Forgiven, Xendarr. Please. All I ask is that you treat us with respect. Even if you don’t respect us, pretend. I’ll know, but I will also see that you are trying to preserve the peace. And that, to me, is worth it. I don’t want a repeat of this. I’d much rather laugh with you than see others cry over you,” I said, and returned to my seat.

Xendarr looked at his hand, then at our end of the table. “Is he always like this?” he asked.

“Yes, Xendarr. He is. He is sincere, and truly wants peace. If he has to bend a bit, he will, but don’t mistake his pliability for weakness. He has the core of a star within him. Treat him well, and he will help you and your children grow. Treat him poorly, however, and he will go supernova on your ass,” Freyr said steadily.

“Yes, well. I don’t think there’s a reason for that, now. I feel he has proven himself quite well. Yes. I do believe we have all the information we will need for a while.” Xendarr stated.

I continued to shovel steak and lobster in my mouth, the confrontation with the Goblin deity being a little much.

The gods left one by one, leaving the five of us sitting there. I was still eating my lobster when I saw a shadow pass over me.