A/N You still have time to vote!

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

Valhalla…

Happy Hogun opened his eyes.

The place…wherever he was…it was dazzling. White pearl walls curved around him and his escort. The antechamber opened into a large room: floors made of polished marble supported carved columns of the same. Glittering vines climbed each column, laden with grapes of every color imaginable, and a few he had never considered. Somewhere he heard a fountain, and as he passed a window he glimpsed an outdoor training area. It looked like a sand pit, but the size of several football fields.

"Whoa. Whazzat?" he pointed to the sand pit and Bryn smiled.

"T'is the training ground. Shall see it soon enough I deem. Come, we must away. Thou needest raiment and victuals."

Happy glanced down. To his surprise, he was completely nude, and in great shape. Cap would be jealous of his 6-pack. His pot belly was gone, and so were his scars. Not even a drop of sweat remained…

And he was nude…

"Clothing…right…"

Bryn led Happy to an outfitter, and the man quickly dressed in breeches and a red tunic. The outfits reminded him of the things Thor and his friends wore just after landing. He decided against a cape; it seemed ostentatious. He fretted without a mirror.

"How do I look?"

Bryn smiled.

"It is well. Come. The All-Father awaits."

"All-Father?" Happy looked around again: white marble and warm sunshine surrounded him. "Where is the Queen?"

Bryn shook her head. "Queen Frigga visits not Valhalla, son of Hogun," she said with a smile. "Odin All-Father sits at the board, and waits to welcome you."

Happy frowned.

"I think there's been some mistake…"

Brynhilda gaped at him.

"A mistake," Harold repeated. "I'm not supposed to be here."

Brynhilda smiled and patted him on the arm. "I know t'is confusing, but have patience, son of Hogun. The All-Father would not send for you without reason. You proved yourself in the heat of battle, betrayed by your old lover! You saved not one, but three lives! Your weapon was on you e'en as you fell! Take heart, Hogunson! You have earned a place with the Einherjar: the right to meat and mead with King Odin until Ragnarok! You have…"

"I knows the rules, Brynhilda," Happy grouched. "If'n I'm dead, I didn't die of no battle injury, and my gun weren't in my hand. Take me back," he insisted.

Her shock was plain. "Blasphemy! I cannot! Your flesh grows cold as we speak! I have neither such seidr nor such authority." She shook her head. "Here in Valhalla we build you new flesh, such as matches your spirit! Shalt drink mead and eat meat and train in seidr and combat with Odin All-Father until Ragnarock, when all Einherjar ride forth on flaming steeds to save Asgard …"

"No," Happy insisted. "I volunteered ta save my own planet, not yours. The All-Pop has ta let me go." Happy stomped past Brynhilda, who stood slack-jawed at his audacity.

"Wait!" she wailed. "You cannot enter the All-father's presence thus! You must be announced…"

"I can announce myself, Angel-face," he grouched. "Ya might want ta make yerself scarce for this, doll. It ain't goin' ta be pretty."

Happy stomped past Brynhilda, following his nose into a banquet hall the size of the Silver Dome, and halted at the door. Long oak tables radiated out from a far-off dais, each table piled high with roasted pigs, deer, and birds, as well as fruits, dark bread, and cheese. A swarm of buxom armored women wove between half-naked muscular titans, pouring wine or beer for the men, who laughed and shouted at one another as they ate and drank their fill.

The smell of smoked meat made his eyes water; Happy had not been able to enjoy a BLT in over a year. A beer tankard sloshed near him, and the aroma made him dizzy; it was heady and thick.

At the head of the room an armored old man with one eye sat with a tankard, drinking as he received men dressed simply, as Happy was. Each man was escorted by a girl much like Brynhilda: armored and winged. Each man bowed to the oldster, who clapped them on the back like long-lost sons, and gave them a place at his table.

"Behold the Einherjar," Brynhilda said at his back. "Behold my lord and father, Odin. He waits for thee. Will you not greet him? Will you not take some refreshment? He has prepared a place for you, my brother. Come," she tugged at the stunned man's arm, "come, and let me introduce you."

Brynhilda put a steady hand on Harold Hogun's shoulder and wove through the tables of feasting warriors. Some of them raised a tankard in greeting as he passed, others shouted. Harold simply nodded, as best as he could, and followed Brynhilda's guiding hand through the crowd. He was near the dais when one hairy warrior in a bowler hat stood up, bellowing a greeting.

"HAROLD! HEY, FLUSHING!"

Harold blinked his surprise, then his face split with joy.

"Boston? Timothy Aloysius Cadwallader…Dum Dum Dugan? WHADDAYA KNOW?"

The grizzled warrior wiped his face on a spare towel and embraced the newly dead Hogun, slapping him on the back. Growing up in Flushing, Queens, Harold had idolized many of the Howling Commandos, including Tim Dugan. He had even met the man as a child, and in his 70's the man had still been imposing. Harold had told the ageing commando of his desire to box, and the oldster had shown him a few moves that had come in handy in the ring years later. Harold didn't know when the oldster had passed away, but somehow it didn't surprise him to find the WW2 veteran in Valhalla.

He certainly didn't look old. In fact, he looked great.

"Hey! You's'll never guess who finally came outta the ice! Cap'n 'Merica works with my boss now!"

"No foolin'? Is he with ya?"

"Not now. He wasn't at the party where this happened." Harold thumped his chest. "He's out on some mission, savin' the world again."

"Typical. Hey, we'll get caught up later, right? I don' want to keep ya from yer appointment with the All-Father."

Happy smiled. "Thanks, Tim. Say, that right hook you showed me has come in real handy, at times."

"Told ya it would! Off with ya now, boy!" Tim Dugan slapped the newcomer on the back again, and returned to his place at the table.

Brynhilda just smiled.

One very long walk later…

"All-Father, I present my newest shield-brother: Harold Hogun, called 'Happy' by his friends, of the Island of Manhattan, on Midgard. He guarded well those in his charge, faithfully! This day he stood between his traitorous lover and three friends, striking down the traitor to save the innocent, even as his own life ebbed away…" Brynhilda chattered on, one hand on Harold's shoulder even as the man shuffled his feet.

Odin raised a hand. "Enough, Bryn. He is no braggart, and is uncomfortable in your praise-giving." He turned to Harold and smiled paternally. "Welcome, Harold son of Hogun, now Odin-son and well done! A place at my table waits for thee. Come, take your ease now! You have sacrificed but a small gathering on Midgard to come and sup with me. Come! Pour the mead!" Odin shouted jovially.

"No, thank you." Harold said with a polite nod. "There's been some mistake, and I need to leave…"

"NONSENSE!" Odin thundered, still in high spirits. "None leave the pleasures of Valhalla until Ragnarock, when we shall sally forth to save all Aesir!"

"I'm not interested." Harold shook his head. "I have a date. My people need me to…"

"Son, your manly needs and appetite rest with your body." Odin tutted paternally. "What is left is tended to by the Valkyrie."

"Begging his majesty's' pardon, but none of these women interest me." Harold crossed his arms over his chest and looked stubborn. "And you, old man, are not my type."

"Be very careful, Harold, son of Hogun, son of Odin," Odin said quietly. The Einherjar around him gradually silenced. "Not all are granted a place at my table. You have been a friend to my son, Thor, and a friend to his friends, unto death, and proved your worth here. Your mortal battles are over, boy. Come to the board, and have peace."

"I ain't finished fighting for my planet, and you know it," Happy growled back. "We have a plan. I'm stickin' to it. If I'm dead, then I'm in the wrong hall. Send me on my way, or send me back, but I ain't stayin'."

"Are princes Thor and Loki not still in your master's halls? Do the Warriors Three not still attend them? Is not the Goddess of War still among you?"

"Far as I know, yes."

"Then Asgards' finest already fight for you," Odin's good eye had started to glow. "You need naught more."

"That ain't for you to decide, old man. It's my planet, not yours."

The entire hall fell silent. Odin considered the defiant Harold Hogun, and stroked his beard.

"I collect the Einherjar against Ragnarok. I know of your plan, lad: 'tis a foolish hope, fueled by what is left of a once-pretty face. Would you settle for toothless, dishonored rot for your own people's last battle? Let the living fight for the living. Come," he motioned to a chair next to his own, "take counsel with me. Learn from me the wisdom I earned in 4,000 years of battle. You may yet be allowed to carry a message to your friends, even as Brynhilda goes back and forth between our worlds. Come, have a drink, young Harold."

Odin motioned to Brynhilda. She pressed a full tankard into Happy Hogun's grasp, and stood by with a plate filled with bacon.

"What say you?"

"Step away, Brynhilda," Harold murmured. Her eyes widened, and she stepped back, bowing to her father.

"I say it's a damn shame Asgard has a bigot for a king. I'm not arguing over lust, old timer. I lost my heart to another, and it wasn't to you. Brynhilda an' her sisters are pretty gals, but I ain't settlin' for a bar wench when I have an appointment with a Queen! You can take your meat," he grabbed the bacon platter out of Brynhilda's hands, and threw it at the All Father, "and your beer," he tossed the tankards into Odin's face, "and shove it up your…

"ENOUGH!" Odin thundered. "THE CHOICE IS MADE!"

Odin All Father stood up from his throne, dripping from his beard, and grabbed Harold Hogun by his lapels.

"You'll take naught of mine to the Dank Queen," he growled. He tore Harold's tunic and leggings off, until he hung naked by the throat in Odin's hand. "Let your honor be your raiment, and true love," he snarled the last, "your standard! A harsh lesson, boy, and too late for you to learn it now."

Five steps across the Hall brought Odin to a precipice that reeked of smoke and sulphur. He raised Happy up to his face one more time.

"Any last words, boy?"

"Hurry up, old man," Happy snapped. "Time's a wastin'."

"As you wish," Odin growled. "To Hel with you!" He thundered.

Odin threw Happy into the Void.