More fun for Shiro in Asgard

[x-sanfuaiyaa.livejournal.com]

Set about a week after his arrival, Shiro proves himself to the Norns and earns his title. Urd and Skuld argue over who gets to dress him, and Belldandy resolves the fight.


The final troll keeled over, impaled by its own spear. The ground was littered with the dead bodies of the beasts, their spilled blood seeping into the earth. Sunfire stood, surveying the scene. It had been a difficult battle, much more so than he’d expected, but he had come out victorious. And the treasure which he sought lay a few feet away from him.

His first mission was meant to prove himself before he could officially be named the Champion of Fate. The Norns sent him to retrieve an old tome that had been missing for centuries and had only recently been discovered in the possession of a nomadic group of trolls. It had taken Sunfire nearly a week to track them down and formulate a plan of attack, and now that he’d won, all that was left was to return the book to the Norns.

And Urd. Especially Urd.

Book in hand, Sunfire took to the skies and headed back to the giant tree (which he could still see even from many miles away).

“Welcome back,” Belldandy greeted warmly, bowing as Shiro (Sunfire now, since that inspired more fear than Shiro Yoshida could) landed. “We saw your battle. You were magnificent.”

Sunfire bowed in return. “It wasn’t a big deal,” he responded humbly. “They were not particularly intelligent, even if they are strong.”

“Most mortals wouldn’t have stood a chance against them,” Urd said, wearing her usual smirk. Sunfire’s legs felt like jelly, and he struggled to stand upright and maintain proper blood flow. “And as we cannot leave Yggdrasil, we owe you one.”

“It is just my duty,” Sunfire stammered. “All part of the job description, ne?”

“That’s what we like to hear.”

“And now that we have accepted you,” Skuld said, rubbing her hands together eagerly, “We need to mark you as Ours. And more importantly, you need clothing that identifies you as such.”

Sunfire looked down at what he was wearing: the same t-shirt, shorts, and cap he’d been wearing for the past week since arriving in Asgard from the baseball game. Hardly worthy of a divine warrior. He nodded at Skuld. “Where can I find proper clothing?”

“Let us worry about that.”

But Sunfire worried about the look on Skuld’s face; she looked a bit to excited about this. Magical energy crackled between her fingers. Her grin widening, she flung her hands out, palms up. “There.” A mirror appeared in front of him, and he gasped.

“I look like Yuna . . .” Boots, a loin-cloth made of tiger fur, a tiger fur breastplate, shoulder guards with horns, big tiger fur gloves with claws, and a helmet with two huge horns sticking out. “I think this dress sphere is a dud.”

Belldandy giggled, Skuld pouted, and Urd burst out laughing. “Skuld, you idiot! His enemies will spend more time staring at his bare skin than being afraid. Although, it is quite flattering, Sunfire . . .” He blushed at that, and Belldandy giggled some more because she could see it travel down his body, which made him blush all the more.

“Oh yeah? Well, let’s see you come up with something better!” Skuld demanded.

“Fine. Voila!” Urd snapped her fingers, and Berserker-Sunfire transformed. She’d dressed him in a tight spandex-like bodysuit. It was red with white lines running vertically from his torso to his neck and shoulders. “And the piece de resistance . . .” She snapped her fingers again, and a red X-shaped mask with big black goggles at the eye holes appeared in her hands. It looked like a giant bug. “There,” she said smugly, satisfied. “Sunfire’s costume.”

“Anoo, how about something a little less . . . etto, bulgy?” he asked. The material was skin-tight and revealed everything. And by everything, he meant everything. Hands held to cover his crotch, he smiled meekly.

Urd sighed. “But it looks so good! You’ll have the Valkyries falling head over heels.”

“Yeah, in laughter,” Skuld snorted derisively. “Please. He might as well walk around in the nude.”

“Oh yeah? Well, at least this is better than wearing a half dozen dead cats and horns!”

“It’s the latest berserker style!”

“Idiot!”

“Dimwit!”

“Please stop!” implored Belldandy with a sad look on her face. “Do not fight. It is not becoming.” Her sister looked away ashamed. “Let us try this for our champion.” She waved her wands, chanting in some language Sunfire had never heard before. He felt warm, and saw that Urd’s costume for him was melting away and being replaced by a long silver robe, sky blue cloak with a large silver clasp to hold it in place, matching blue fingerless gloves, and silver-trimmed leather boots. Urd and Skuld both whistled in admiration.

“That looks great, big sister!” Skuld praised.

Urd nodded. “Not too bad, Bell. He looks very regal.”

He felt it, too. He’d never seen fabric like this before; it was the most comfortable thing he’d ever worn.

“Now to initiate you.” The three goddesses approached him, outstretched hands aglow. Urd traced her finger below Shiro’s right eye, leaving a blue mark. “For the past.”

Skuld followed suit, touching underneath his left eye. “For the future.” An identical mark appeared there, too.

Belldandy smiled as she touched the middle of his forehead. It wasn’t a happy smile, though, but one of . . . triumph? “And for the present.” As a third mark appeared, Sunfire felt a warm feeling of utter power flow through his body, making him happier and more internally peaceful than he has ever felt before. “Welcome to Yggdrasil, Champion Sunfire.”






Set approximately a month later, Sunfire takes a stroll through Asgard City after a mission and gets into a fight with some drunken men. He hands their asses to them and proceeds to blow up the tavern. No one should argue with a half-fire demon.



Sunfire, Champion of the Norns, Defender of Fate, Emissary of Destiny to the Aesir, Vanir, and other deities, was damn tired. Flying all the way from Yggdrasil to the All-Father’s palace, demanding an audience with Odin on behalf of his Ladies, and delivering the message he was assigned weren’t such easy tasks. Especially when Odin had ignored Sunfire until he was ready to blow the place up, All-Father be damned.

But the god had eventually listened, and Sunfire was free to return to the Norns. But just as he was ready to take off from the palace gates, he noticed the city beyond. A city meat non-divine people, and that meant food. Not that Belldandy fed him poorly; far from it, actually, as she lived up to the manga character’s reputation. But after months of living on an American diet, there was only so much fish and rice he could eat before wanting a thick bloody steak. Or better yet, lamb like what Ms. Dane had made that one time. Carnivorous much?

Keeping his drool in check, Sunfire decided to take a little detour and explore the city. He knew that flying would draw unwanted attention (his garish robes would do enough of that), so he walked. The dirty roads were lined with shops, taverns, and inns, and packed with leather-clad men and women, pushing and shoving each other violently to make their ways. For not the first time in his life, he hated being short.

He eventually reached a tavern that looked decent and entered. He ignored all the looks from the drunken patrons, the barkeep, and the tavern wenches, and took a seat at a small empty table near the door. It took a few moments before anyone moved to serve him. This did not bode well.

As he waited for his stew to arrive, he took a good look at everyone in the tavern. Twice Sunfire’s size, dressed in leathers and furs, armed from head to toe with swords, clubs, maces, hammers, and/or axes. But he was far from intimidated. Size and strength meant nothing to a heavenly warrior. Smirking, he thanked the wench who brought him his meal.

He ate in peace, still paying no heed to the staring Norsemen. That is, until one of them got up from his seat and drunkenly made his way to Sunfire. He slammed his tankard of ale down on the table to get his attention, and Sunfire looked up. He glared at him for a few seconds before returning to his food.

“Listen, you,” the big man said, his breath reeking of alcohol. “I don’t know who you think you are, dressing up in those funny clothes, but this isn’t a place for little boys. So you’d better get up and leave.”

“Nah, he shouldn’t leave.” Another man approached the two and leaned heavily on the other Norseman’s shoulder, obviously drunk himself. “Maybe for a little bit o’ gold he could, y’know, entertain us. Eh?” He winked at the other man.

“I suggest you go back and drink your ale before I do something unbecoming,” Sunfire said softly and calmly. His eyes burned with power, as if to emphasize his point.

“Why, you insolent little . . .” The second man reached out to grab Sunfire, but he was too slow. In one swift motion, the Norns’ Champion got to his feet and dodged the outstretched hand. Moving quickly, he flew around the table and punched the man in the gut. Sunfire may have been small, but he was superior to all of them.

The man doubled over, braking commands to his mates at the large round table behind him. They want a brawl? Idiots. They were all too drunk to fight properly, but even if they’d been sober and at peak condition, Sunfire knew that they’d have no chance against him. Not a single punch or kick hit him as he wove through the tangle of Norsemen trying to attack him.

Soon enough he was behind them, and tapping into his reserves (which had grown quite large since he first came to Asgard), he released a powerful wave of solar flare, slamming them through the wall and leaving a rather big hole. Now one would assume that after a display of such power, people would be running to the hills. But no. Now everyone else in the tavern wanted a piece of Sunfire for themselves.

He ducked the swipe of an axe meant to take off his head, and delivered an uppercut to offender. That was followed by a hammer smashing a chair only a few feet away from him. The man wielding that soon found out how uncomfortable it is to be kicked in the face and the stomach. Next came a burly redhead with a short sword that melted with one plasma burst.

Dodging another axe-wielding maniac, Sunfire came to a realization: this wouldn’t end until every warrior in Asgard had a chance to attack him. Sighing, he did the only thing he could do.

Explode.

In a few short second, the tavern was reduced to rubble. Everyone who had been anywhere near it lay injured from either the burning plasma or exploding wreckage. Content with what he did, he walked up to the bodies of the first two men and took their purses. Handing them to the barkeep, who’d had enough sense to grab his wenches and retreat when Sunfire first used his powers, he said: “This should cover my stew and the tables and chairs that I broke. Feel free to take gold from the rest of these pathetic excuses for warriors to cover the cost of your tavern.” The barkeep nodded in acceptance, shaking in fire, and muttered the words “fire demon” under his breath.

“Tell that to those fools when they wake up,” Sunfire commanded. “Tell them that crossing the half-fire demon Champion of the Norns was the most idiotic thing they will ever do.”

As he flew away, he smiled to himself. Half-fire demon, eh? The Norns had wanted him to gain a reputation, and what better way to do that than claim that he was demonic?

He couldn’t wait to tell Urd.