Thor, p.1
Thor, page 1
Thor, the Movie © 2011 MVL Film Finance LLC. Marvel, Thor, all character names and their distinctive likenesses: TM & © 2011 Marvel Entertainment, LLC and its subsidiaries. www.marvel.com. All Rights Reserved.
Published by Marvel Press, an imprint of Disney Book Group. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher. For information address Marvel Press, 114 Fifth Avenue, New York, New York 10011-5690.
ISBN 978-1-4231-6036-6
Table of Contents
Prologue
The Allfather's Fear
A Growing Chill
The Power of Three
Photos from the Film
A Stranger's Arrival
Finding Answers
Epilogue
Guide to Asgard and More
PROLOGUE
THEY’VE ALWAYS ASKED QUESTIONS—this race called man, on this planet called Earth. Passionately longing to know how they are connected to the heavens. In ages past, they looked to us as gods, for indeed so many times we saved them from calamity. We tried to show them how their world was but one of the Nine Realms of the cosmos, linked to all others by the branches of Yggdrasil…the World Tree. Nine Realms in a universe of wonder, beauty, and terror which they barely comprehended.
But for all their thirst for knowledge, they let our knowledge, they let our lessons, fall into myth and dream.
The mighty Thor. Where did he—the one whom the humans call the God of Thunder—come from? He came from us, the proudest warriors the worlds have ever seen. He came from this—the greatest realm the universe has ever known.
Thor came from…Asgard.
And these are his tales.…
THE ALLFATHER’S FEAR
Odin Allfather did not act without thought. Now, as the sun shone over Asgard and the buildings were illuminated by its rays, gleaming like gold, he thought long and hard. At the realm’s edge, the darkness of the cosmos spread out like a calm sea. Asgard was at peace, and all was ready for the momentous events to come.
Standing in his chambers, Odin stared out at the realm he had ruled for so many years. Despite the beauty before him, his mind was troubled and his expression drawn with worry and tension.
As Allfather, Odin had battled great beasts, invaded foreign realms, destroyed strong enemies, and kept the realm of Asgard safe and peaceful.
He had lost his brothers and father to war. For thousands upon thousands of years, he had carried the burden of his crown alone. It had wearied him at times, energized him at others. When he had married his wife, Frigga, the burden had lifted as she was a strong partner and had a helpful ear. And with the birth of his first son, Thor, Odin had felt hopeful that one day he would be able to pass along his crown to a worthy successor and find the peace he so rightly deserved.
Now that day had finally come. For today, Thor would become king.
Yet Odin did not feel a sense of relief.
With a deep sigh, he turned from the wide doorway that led out to his chamber balcony. Behind him the two giant statues of his fallen brothers that stood outside the palace framed his tired body, dwarfing him, while at the same time hinting at his great might and heritage. He was not yet dressed for the evening but still in the golden robes that would soon be exchanged for his ceremonial gear. But his hair was combed and his face freshly shaved. Odin’s shoulder-length hair was no longer the rich brown of his youth, but the gray suited him and he still had the bearing of a great warrior and powerful leader.
Queen Frigga sat at her vanity, putting on her jewelry. In the reflection, she saw her husband turn and come back into the center of the room. His blue eyes were dark with worry, and she felt a now long-familiar rush of love. She had married a warrior but knew him as so much more than that. He did not rule lightly. Everything he had done and everything he would do was the result of great reflection. He had seen the results of battles that had not been thought out and had lost too many warriors to unnecessary violence. And so she knew that he had thought long and hard about this day.
While some argued that Thor should have assumed the throne years ago, Odin had seen the benefit in waiting. He wanted his son to follow in his footsteps and the footsteps of his father before him—to keep Asgard safe and free of war. Yet Thor was not his father. He was impulsive and hotheaded. He still had much to learn about the value of patience. Alas, Odin had no more time left to teach. He was growing weaker by the day. Soon, he would need to enter the Odinsleep, during which he would be unable to rule, his body in a state of suspended animation while he used the powerful Odinforce to rejuvenate.
Feeling his wife’s gaze on him, Odin looked up and smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling. She continued to amaze him. Her beauty was beyond compare, and while servants rushed about in preparation below, she sat calmly, her back straight and her head high. Now, more than ever, he needed her strength.
“Do you think he’s ready?” Odin asked, his voice deep with emotion.
She looked at him and nodded slowly. “Thor has his father’s wisdom,” she said, knowing that was what he needed to hear. But Odin’s expression remained worried so she added, “He won’t be alone. Loki will be at his side to give him counsel.”
Standing up, she approached her husband. Loki, their youngest son, was a source of tension between them. Odin had always favored Thor because Thor was a warrior, just like himself, but Loki was not, and so his youngest formed a closer bond with Queen Frigga. But in a way, that had been a good balance. Loki was Thor’s opposite—quiet, thoughtful, and content to stay in the shadows. She hoped that Odin would see the benefit of having the brothers side-by-side.
He reached out a hand, about to caress her cheek. But he stopped suddenly.
Odin’s hand was shaking. The Allfather stood staring at it with fierce concentration, as though willing it to stop. “If we only had more time,” Odin said when his hand finally stopped shaking. “I can fight it a little longer.…”
Frigga held up a hand. “No! You’ve put it off too long!” she said harshly. Then her expression softened. “I worry for you.”
Odin cocked his head, a playful smile tugging at his lips. “I’ve destroyed demons and monsters, devastated whole worlds, laid waste to mighty kingdoms, and still you worry for me?”
“Always,” Frigga answered truthfully. She knew what he was capable of, but she still feared that Thor’s new role would be Odin’s undoing.
But she didn’t have to worry. Her words had reassured her husband as they always did, and now, for better or worse, he was ready to pass on the throne to his eldest son.
A short while later, a horn sounded throughout the palace. Inside the throne room, Asgardians had gathered to bid farewell to their current king and welcome their new king. Ceremonial banners fluttered from the high ceilings while attendants handed out golden goblets full of sweet drinks to the beautifully dressed guests. There was a festive air to the room as people chatted softly to each other and waited with eager anticipation for the arrival of the royal family.
At the front of the room, Thor’s best friends and fellow warriors, Volstagg, Fandral, Hogun, and the Lady Sif, stood at attention while members of the palace guard lined up in formation. Then Frigga entered the room and walked down the long aisle, Loki by her side. Her hair cascaded over her shoulders and down her back in ringlets that matched her golden gown. In honor of the event, Loki wore his horned helmet and signature green cape. When they had made their way to the front of the room, another horn sounded and the guards stepped aside. There was an audible gasp.
Odin sat atop his golden throne. On his head he wore a large helmet and in his hand he gripped the mighty spear Gungnir.
Looking out over the room, Odin sighed deeply. Even after ruling for tens of thousands of years, it felt like only a day ago that his father had crowned him in a ceremony similar to this one. He wondered now if his father had had the same doubts he was having about Thor. Did he regret having to step aside for the younger generation to take over? Odin thought. Was I as impulsive then as Thor is now? Does that mean that he, too, will grow into a wise king in time?
Odin’s thoughts were interrupted by another gasp from the crowd. Then the room erupted in applause. The mighty Thor had arrived.
Thor raised Mjolnir, the hammer that only he could lift, high over his head and soaked in the adoration. It was as if he had harnessed the powers of the storm to make his entrance all the more spectacular. His body was covered in battle armor with large metal disks on the front chest plate. His winged helmet sat on his head, and his long red cape flowed behind him. While moments ago, everyone had believed Odin to be the most powerful ruler they would ever have, the appearance of Thor made them believe otherwise. Standing there, he looked every inch a king.
When the cheering faded, Thor finally strode up the long aisle, a smug smile on his face. Clearly the concerns of his father did not trouble Thor. He felt more than ready to rule Asgard. He had watched his father do it for years, and he thought it was time for a fresh start. He had proven himself to be one of the finest warriors the realm had ever seen. Now he would prove himself to be one of its finest kings.
As Odin watched his son walk toward him, the gravity of the situation hit the Allfather hard. Thor had grown into a fine young man. And now, Odin’s brash and oftentimes irresponsible son was about to take the throne as the new ruler of Asgard. Yet Odin could still vividly remember when Thor was just a boy, lea
Odin smiled now, thinking back on that day. Learning to be king would be like learning to ride a horse. Thor wouldn’t like having to go slowly and he would fall a few times, but his difficulties would serve to teach him some valuable lessons. Or so Odin hoped. He could only be grateful that the realm was at peace and had been for a long time. There was no doubt Thor was a good warrior—but a warrior king? That was another story. That was something he had yet to learn.
Finally, Thor arrived in front of his father. He nodded at his mother and brother and friends and then kneeled, bowed his head, and waited. A hush fell over the crowd as they, too, waited.
“A new day has come for a new king to wield his own weapon,” Odin began, his deep voice echoing through the room. “Today, I entrust you with the sacred throne of Asgard. Responsibility, duty, honor. They are essential to every soldier and every king.” As the Allfather spoke, Thor raised his eyes. Odin willed the words to impact his son, to get through to him. For after this day, he would be on his own.
Odin continued, speaking the words that had been spoken to him so many years before. He was at the very end of his speech when he felt it—a chill that cut through the room and caused people to shiver uncertainly. Odin’s heart began to race. He had felt this chill before—on Jotunheim. Asgard had waged a long and fierce war with the Ice Realm. But a truce had been made years ago. There was no reason for Odin to think Jotuns would be in Asgard. Still…
Shaking off the feeling of dread, Odin continued. He was just about to say the final words that would make Thor king when the banners hanging from the ceiling suddenly iced over.
There was no denying it. “Frost Giants,” Odin whispered.
Before Odin could stop him, Thor raced out of the room, his red cape flying behind him and Mjolnir clutched in his hand.
Turning, Odin ordered the guards to be on alert and then followed the chill out of the room. He had a very good idea about what the Frost Giants were after—the Casket of Ancient Winters. The Casket enabled anyone who held it to create a never-ending winter. Laufey, the Jotun king, had wanted to use the Casket to turn all the realms into frozen ice lands that he could rule. Years earlier, Odin had taken the Casket in order to insure it would never be misused. For the safety of all Nine Realms, he had it placed in the Vault. The large, cavernous space was deep below the palace and housed the realm’s greatest threats. Although it was guarded at all times, someone must have gotten in.
When he arrived at the Vault, his assumptions were proven true. He found Thor staring at the remains of a great battle. Two Asgardian sentries lay on the floor, frozen solid. Towering above them stood the Destroyer, Odin’s deadliest weapon. This menacing creature was nothing but armor filled with mystical Odinforce. When a threat to Odin or Asgard was felt, the Destroyer would awaken and the Odinforce would burn bright, laying waste to anyone or anything that got in its way.
Now, the Destroyer held the Casket of Ancient Winters in its hands.
Thor turned, and his eyes met his father’s. While Odin’s eyes were troubled and resigned, Thor’s blazed with unabashed fury. This was an act of war! While up above, a roomful of the most important people in the Nine Realms had been celebrating, the Vault had been broken into and two sentries killed. All of Asgard could be at risk. Something had to be done.
Odin watched as various emotions played over his son’s face. He knew Thor was angry and that he wanted revenge. A part of him wanted that, too. If Laufey had sent the Frost Giants, it meant that he no longer valued the truce. On the other hand, if Laufey hadn’t sent them and the rogue Jotuns had acted on their own, then Odin might be starting an unnecessary war by retaliating.
“The Jotuns must pay for what they’ve done!” Thor shouted, interrupting his father’s thoughts.
The king shook his head sadly. He had hoped Thor would think rationally about the consequences. “I have a truce with Laufey,” Odin reminded Thor. “What action would you take?”
Thor puffed out his chest. He knew exactly what he would do. “March into Jotunheim as you once did and teach them a lesson.”
“The Casket of Ancient Winters belonged to the Jotuns. They believe it’s their birthright,” Odin said, his voice heavy.
The two men stood facing each other, one old, one young, both determined. Odin would not let Thor travel to Jotunheim. It would solve nothing and most certainly send the realms into war. This was not the time for it. Thor had not yet been named king, and Odin was too old to face a lengthy battle.
The room seemed to fill with tension. The Casket, safely back on its pedestal, glowed with an unnatural blue light, casting shadows over the men’s faces. Finally, Thor had had enough. His father was too old and too set in his ways. This very action was why he should have been named king long ago. He said as much and watched his father’s eyes grow sad.
Odin forbade him from going to Jotunheim and saw Thor’s eyes harden. Turning on his heels, the mighty Thor left the Vault, defeated by his own father.
Odin felt his limbs begin to shake. He was uneasy and unsure about Agsard’s future and about his own health—and that frightened him.
Since their fight the night before, Odin had not seen his eldest son. He had heard his muffled shouts in the banquet hall as Thor told friends what had happened, but Odin had heard nothing since. Frigga had tried to assure him that Thor’s temper would ease and this would blow over, but Odin knew better.
Just then, a guard rushed over to him and told him news of Thor’s journey into Jotunheim. Odin felt a deep well of fury rise up within him. Thor had deliberately disobeyed his orders.
“Tell the barn master to have Sleipnir saddled and my battle gear readied immediately,” he ordered the guard. It looked like Odin would be making one more trip to the icy realm of Jotunheim.
Moments later, Odin raced across the Rainbow Bridge astride his eight-legged steed. Odin was right to worry. Thor—along with Loki, the Warriors Three, and Lady Sif—had broken the truce and entered Jotunheim, thereby endangering them all.
The wind whipped Odin’s face, but he didn’t notice. His anger had been replaced by fear. Jotunheim was nothing but an icy wasteland now. Its surface cracked and broke apart constantly, leaving less and less of the realm. And the Frost Giants were fierce warriors with the ability to create weapons made of ice that were as sharp as the finest Asgardian blades. He did not want to think about what Thor and his band of five would be going through right now. He urged his horse to go faster.
Odin felt the familiar sense of his body being tugged and pulled out of proportion and then a sudden rush as all his molecules came crashing back together. A moment later there was a great ripping sound and a hole opened up in front of him. Beyond it he could make out the white ice of Jotunheim—and Thor. His son and the other warriors were completely surrounded by Frost Giants!
Landing, Sleipnir reared up, his powerful front legs pawing the air. Odin’s arrival stopped everyone in their tracks, giving him the chance to race over to Laufey. Pulling aside the Jotun king, he whispered, “You and I can stop this before there’s further bloodshed.”
Laufey stared at the Asgardian king with hate burning in his eyes. His blue skin was aged and wrinkled, but there was still pride in his stance. He shook his head. “Your boy sought this out,” Laufey replied. “He’ll get what he came for—war and death.”
The Jotun king signaled to his giants, and they began to move forward. Looking over at his son, Odin saw that he looked beaten and worn, as did the others. One of the warriors had a gaping shoulder wound and another had a blackened, frostbitten arm. They did not stand a chance against the giants, not even with the king’s added strength.
Sighing, he knew what must be done. Odin raised his mighty spear Gungnir high over his head and slammed it down into the ice. The massive impact knocked back the advancing Frost Giants and caused the ice to break and crack. Odin then quickly called upon the Bifrost. Another hole ripped the sky, and before Laufey or the other Frost Giants could react, Odin pulled himself and the other Asgardians up and out of Jotunheim.
