Chapter Text
It was early in the morning when the thought hit him:
How would Heimdall react to Kratos just showing up in his home, unannounced?
The somewhat intrusive thought woke Atreus up incredibly fast, heart pounding. By Bifröst, how did he manage to forget such a detail? How did he not think this through when he told his father and Mimir about Mimir’s body?! Nevermind the fact that Kratos and Heimdall would meet again, if Heimdall had to show them the way, but how would Heimdall react to the sight of the god that nearly killed him, killed his father and was a big part of the undoing of his home?
“How did I not think this through?” Atreus whispered pained to himself.
“Ahh yes, the eternal question,” came unexpectedly from the other side of the cabin, where Mimir rested. The old head wasn’t even looking his way, but was facing a book about.. Something Atreus wasn’t interested in. “Though, you’ve gotten better at it thinking before acting, so there’s at least that.”
Atreus stuck his tongue out at the old man, knowing the head couldn’t see it.
“Now tell me, laddie, what is it that troubles you at this early hour?”
With a quick glance towards his father’s still resting figure, he gathered the furs around him and sighed.
“It’s just.. my friend, the one who knows where your body is? I have no way of warning him that we’re coming and.. and I’m pretty sure he won’t like us just showing up at his doorstep. He’s.. kind of a private person.” He rested his head on his knees, his arms around his legs. Mimir made a thoughtful hum. “I see your problem, my lad.”
“I don’t want him and father to fight.”
Silence fell over the cabin.
“Then go warn him, Atreus.”
Both Atreus and Mimir jumped at the unexpected sound of Kratos’ voice coming from his bed.
“Father!”
Slowly, his father rose up, moving the furs aside to sit. The man brushed a hand over his beard. “Bring him here, then.”
Atreus just blinked at his father, not quite comprehending the words.
Kratos - with a seemingly infinite patience towards his dumbstruck son - continued. “If you bring him here, he is sufficiently warned. And then he is prepared for the journey as well.”
It sounded so simple when said in his father’s familiar rumble, and it alleviated some of Atreus’ worries. His father was pretty good at that, it turned out.
“Oh. Yeah that makes sense.”
Mimir chuckled from the other end of the cabin. “Dear lad..”
With the conundrum solved, he moved his furs aside to get out of the bed, but a gentle rumble from his father stalled him.
“Not now. When the sun rises, then you can go.”
Of course, yeah, that made sense too, not just showing up while it was still dark outside and Heimdall probably was asleep. So Atreus laid down again, but couldn’t really keep still.
A long suffering sigh came from his father’s cot. “Atreus. Sleep.”
Atreus was out of his cot at first ray of light, and more or less ready to go immediately after - until Mimir reminded him to eat breakfast; something about it being very important to start the day with a meal. Not that Atreus really paid him any attention, he was more occupied with readying himself for the trip to Heimdall’s home. His father, however, pointedly made sure Atreus ate something. The old man had crossed his arms and lifted an eyebrow before moving his gaze towards the food on the table.
With the quickest goodbye he could manage, Atreus was out and on his way pretty soon. Of course, he made sure to pet Speki and Svanna, obviously. His good girls deserved all the pets in the world. The wolves yipped happily and licked him all over his face, making him laugh.
“Yeah yeah, I’ll come back,” he promised just before leaving.
He took a quick breath in concentration and transformed himself into a kestrel - he had trained hard with Freya to manage that, for a long time. It would make it much easier to get to Heimdall’s, not to mention quicker.
Flapping his wings, he gained speed and altitude, flying through the woods he knew so well.
Even though he enjoyed all of his travelling all over the realms, these woods were special. They were his home, where his parents raised him, protected and loved him. Where he could always return to and be safe. No matter what.
Home .
He wondered what Heimdall would think of them. And then decided not to look too closely why he wanted to know that.
It didn’t take long before he was able to see the cabin Heimdall had built. He landed on a large rock and hopped down, transforming back into his usual self. Taking a few seconds to fuss with his appearance before moving closer (dumb, he knew, but couldn’t actually help himself). The mountain plateau was still in the early morning light, there was barely any wind to rustle the leaves on the trees, so Atreus was sure Heimdall would hear his steps on the ground. He could walk silently, but he wasn’t hunting, and he was pretty sure Heimdall would feel him around either way. It also served as a slight warning to the older god that he had company. But to Atreus’ surprise, the cabin door didn’t open to reveal Heimdall, so Atreus kept walking closer, hand lifted to knock on the wood. He waited a moment and knocked again when he still didn’t hear any movement.
“Heimdall?” he called.
Still no answer.
Atreus laid his hand on the doorknob, but to his surprise, it wasn’t locked but opened wide up instead.
“Heimdall? It’s me.” he called again and stuck his head inside. The cabin looked empty, no sign of the golden god.
“Hm.. I guess he wouldn’t mind that terribly if I waited for him here,” Atreus mumbled to himself while going inside. Secretly he was thrilled with the prospect of being able to look - okay, snoop - around properly without Heimdall watching over his shoulder. He barely got the opportunity to do so last time, though the thought of what happened then made him flush and a hand lifted to rub at the bite mark under his ear.
The slightly damaged tapestries on the wall were interesting and he was sure he remembered seeing one of them in Odin’s grand hall back in Asgard. One of the lesser damaged ones told the story of the creation of the realms, from the days of Ginnungagap. Muspelheim had been mostly ripped off, but Niflheim remained somewhat intact. Another one was a story Atreus didn’t recognise, and it made him wonder what Mimir could tell about it. There were so many things Atreus didn’t know, but he could always count on Mimir and his willingness to teach Atreus.
On a table near the fireplace laid a sword in its scabbard. Intrigued, Atreus went closer, because he knew the sword, if not its name; this was Heimdall’s sword. He had been hit with it enough that he very easily recognised the golden-brown scabbard. The hilt was wrapped with white-ish leather and golden strings, but when he unsheathed the sword, a golden blade revealed itself, in stunning motifs and swirls. But it couldn’t possibly be gold, that would never be able to keep up the strength of a God, nevermind one of Heimdall’s strength. He could feel the magic embedded on the blade. It was a work of art, no doubt of that, much like Ingrid, Freyr’s sword.
“Hofuð,” came Heimdall’s sudden voice behind him. Atreus jumped and threw his head around to look at Heimdall, who had appeared in the doorway.
“You gotta stop doing that!” Atreus admonished, slightly whiny. Heimdall lifted a brow in response and walked closer. “Stop what?”
“Just.. Appearing behind me, giving me a shock!”
Heimdall chuckled. “It’s not my fault you scare so easily. Or, you know, look through other people's belongings without their permission.”
Atreus blushed and looked away. Yeah, he kinda walked into that one, he really should know better. “Sorry,” he murmured. A hand fell on the back of his neck and squeezed. He leant back and soaked in the touch.
“My blade, it’s name is Hofuð. One of the best works to ever leave the smiths of Asgard,” Heimdall told, touching the hilt with his free hand. “Father gave it to me when I came of age. Told me that I deserved a blade to protect my people with.” The golden god’s voice sounded wistful and his eyes had a faraway look about them.
“Oh. My mother made my first bow for me. I named it Talon.”
The look disappeared from Heimdall’s face and got replaced with a mocking grin. “Of course you gave it a name like Talon,” he scoffed.
“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean!” Secretly, he was pleased with the golden god’s teasing tone. He hadn’t liked the look he got when he mentioned Odin.
The hand on his neck squeezed again before leaving to ruffle his hair. “Such a childish name.”
Atreus made a face at Heimdall, full of mock irritation. “So? I was a child.”
“Still is, by the way you’re sticking out your tongue at me, sunshine.”
He couldn’t help but grin at Heimdall, annoying as he was. “You like me anyway.”
The older god leaned his hip against the table, raising a perfect golden eyebrow. “Now what gave you that impression?” he joked and Atreus punched him in response, surprised that Heimdall allowed the punch to land.
Silence fell for a spell before Heimdall spoke again.
“What did I do for you to grace my home so soon after you left it?”
Soft lips and teeth marking his skin, broad hands gripping him, heat and pleasure and - ATREUS focus! He shook his head, trying to dispel the naughty memories and get back on track. His father and Mimir were waiting for them, after all. Atreus fidgeted with Hofuð’s scabbard, took a deep breath and looked up at the - stunning- face of the god above him.
“I, uhm, I told my dad and Mimir that Mimir’s body was free from that tree, so uhm.. They want you to show them the way to his body?”
The space between Heimdall’s eyebrows narrowed. “.. Me?” he dragged out the vowel in disbelief.
He bit his lip. “Ye-yeah. I mean, they don’t know it’s you know, you , but..” his voice trailed off, still worrying his lips afterwards. “Father told me you would show the way since you never told me how to get there.”
Heimdall blinked, still parsing his words, before he groaned and scrubbed a hand over his face. “So what, your father is waiting nearby or?”
What? Wouldn’t Heimdall have noticed that? Atreus shook his head, “no no, he’s still at home, I figured you wouldn’t like me just showing up here with him and being dragged away.”
A breathy laugh left the older god. “You’re not wrong there, sunshine.” Then he groaned and cursed “shit!” before moving around the cabin, grabbing stuff. Atreus let his eyes follow the man’s every move. Heimdall just was innately graceful, even when just collecting supplies.
Before long, Heimdall was finished and grabbed Hofuð, motioning with his head for Atreus to follow along.
“Let’s get moving, little disaster,” he grumbled, “and you better promise me your father won’t attack me at first sight!”
***
Heimdall absolutely cursed Atreus mentally the entire trip towards the younger god’s home. How the fuck did he agree to this? Especially since Atreus never actually asked . Was he really that desperate to keep the brat happy? Really?
Fuck him sideways.
He used the time it took for them to reach Atreus’ home to try and prepare himself. He wasn’t afraid of Kratos, no, why would he be, but.. He had a, let's say healthy respect for the Greek god. And absolutely no desire to be beaten again. Atreus chatted the whole while, not seeming to mind that Heimdall didn’t participate that much in the conversation beyond two syllable words and hums.
He found that no, the trip didn’t adequately prepare him for the low current of danger the presence of Sunshine’s father constantly sent his foresight. And from what he understood of Atreus’s chatter, they weren’t even that close, only at the edge of the stave of magic. And just like the day before, Heimdall came to a standstill at the feeling of protective magic.
“Hey sunshine?” he called to Atreus, who walked a bit ahead. The younger man looked back over his shoulder and answered, “yeah?”
“What’s with the magic?”
Atreus’ expression changed from confusion to understanding after a moment and then a slightly sad one. “My.. My mother made the protection stave, to keep us all safe, especially when she wasn’t there to protect us anymore.”
Ah, so that was the undercurrent he could feel; love for the people inhabiting the stave. He whistled impressed. The magic in the stave tried to push him away, possibly because of his blood connection to Odin. Not that it would stop him, he was too strong for that, but still..
“We had to rebuild it after Odin..” Atreus hesitated, “he destroyed it when he and Thor came looking for us.”
Heimdall steeled himself and walked over the invisible line of the stave, shaking the feeling of it off.
“No offence to your mother, it’s impressive magic, but of course it would never keep Odin out,” he huffed as he reached the younger man. Atreus just shrugged and moved on. He navigated the two of them through the woods, and Heimdall took the time to watch his fill of the place Atreus called home. Didn’t seem like much, but the woods obviously held all a little family needed to prosper. It was.. nice, he supposed. Nothing like Asgard, but still.. He could see the appeal.
Before long, a wooden gate appeared. The sight of it had Atreus almost skipping forward, and Heimdall could only chuckle when he saw why. Behind the gate, in a shelter, laid two wolves that got up and yipped happily when they caught sight of Atreus.
“Svanna! Speki!” Atreus called with such glee in his voice as the two furballs barreled at him. The force of them caused the younger man to fall on his ass, laughing loudly. “I wasn’t even gone that long, silly girls!”
Something inside of Heimdall swooped at the scene, but he refused to take a closer look at it.
Danger! Coming closer! His foresight screamed, causing him to take several steps back and his head to snap towards the direction he could feel the old god come from.
Atreus apparently felt the same presence, but obviously had a different reaction. “Father! I’m back!” the younger man called in a cheery voice. The ashen god that had gotten closer, didn’t seem to take notice of Heimdall, not that it really comforted him. He was fairly sure the old god knew exactly where he was, but chose to ignore him in favour of his son.
“Good. Then we can leave,” said Kratos in a gruff voice. Heimdall watched as Atreus got off of the ground and walked back to Heimdall, only to drag him forward.
“Father, Heimdall was the one who told me about Mimir’s body,” the little disaster (he wasn’t feeling that generous towards Atreus in that moment, not when facing the unnerving stare of his kinslayer) said in a slightly trembling voice, as if he himself wasn’t sure how Kratos would react (and wasn’t that just reassuring).
“Heimdall?” Mirmir’s screeching voice sounded, from somewhere near Kratos. Heimdall let his eyes search around for his father’s former advisor, and found him on Kratos’ hip. For a second that stunned him, until he remembered their fight, where Mimir also had shouted advice - and abuse, let’s be honest. “What in the buggering Hel are you doing around someone like him?!”
Ooooh, Heimdall wanted to answer the head. Old fucker. But with Kratos still silent, he’d rather not engage in verbal sparring with Mimir.
“Greetings, Mimir,” he answered instead, just barely concealing his sneer, and made a grandiose bow, “always pleased to see you again in such.. health.”
Atreus gripped the sleeve of his tunic in response, no doubt in admonishment.
“Arrogant fucker,” the head cursed.
“Silence, Mimir!” Kratos’ voice had the hair on his neck rise. He stood still as the old god came closer, stopping just a sword length away. He could feel the cold eyes appraise him and almost hear the disapproval in the older man’s thoughts. They were hard for him to grasp, unlike Atreus’ and Mimir’s, which left him feeling disconcerted.
“So,” Kratos said in a gravelly voice, “you found Mimir’s body?” Heimdall didn’t think Atreus noticed the way his father’s grip on the large axe tightened when he addressed Heimdall, but he saw it clear as day.
“Ah, ye-yes.” Did he just fucking stutter? He was NOT afraid of Kratos, dammit! He cleared his voice and tried again. “I try to keep a track of all Asgard fragments, especially here in Midgard. You never know when my landsmen wind up.” A quick inhale. “A part struck the tree my father stuck Mimir in as punishment, which caused the body to come free, or, mostly free, hence why I recognised the body.”
He was answered with a hum and a scoff from Mimir.
“Just walking around eh? More like causing trouble,” the head grumbled and it made Heimdall’s hackles raise.
“Like you were that much better, since you ended up in that tree, not me.”
“HA! As if Odin would ever punish his precious offspring like that.”
Heimdall barely managed to suppress a flinch. No, his father would never punish him by sticking him in a tree and leaving him alone. His father was so much more creative with his punishments. As he got older, the All-Father’s disappointment and sometimes apathy was enough, since he knew in his very bones what could happen, when his father was truly disappointed, or worse, angered. Odin knew when to praise and when to withhold it - along with so many other things.
Heimdall forced himself to think of something else. Dwelling on time in the darkest of places or beatings would do him no good.
Atreus’ presence helped centre himself again. The warmth of the hand on his sleeve seeped into him, helping him focus and shake the memories off of him.
The head had continued to mumble vitriol at him, but a firm repeat of “Silence!” from Kratos stilled the words. The look of betrayal pointed at Kratos did not escape Heimdall’s all-seeing eyes. Interesting.
“The body lies somewhere in Konunsgard, towards Thamur’s body. Unfortunately, the place is rather swarmed with einherjar and a few still loyal valkyries to hound them around,” he explained, “I decided not to stick around, killing them all would have taken a shitton of time I didn’t have at that point.” He didn’t feel like adding that the only reason he hadn’t had the time, was because he didn’t want to be far away for too long, in case of.. Atreus turning up. He wasn’t exactly proud of the reasoning. Nor did he want Atreus to think he was someone important to Heimdall, (someone precious, the most buried parts of him whispered, only for Heimdall to push them even further down) so he kept the arrogance in his voice.
Smaller hands pulled in his sleeve, forcing him to look down at Atreus’ large puppy eyes.
“You didn’t tell me his body was surrounded by enemies?!” he pouted, making Heimdall waver just a smidge.
“Sunshine, if I told you, you would’ve left for his body alone, in the middle of the night. If I didn’t feel like fighting them all, how far do you think you would’ve gotten?” he reasoned. Not to mention Atreus had been naked , at the time they talked about it. He took a second to savour that memory, of a naked Atreus in his bed, a sheen of sweat covering him, rosy cheeks… Yeah no, better not go down that rabbit hole with the boy’s father nearby.
Atreus’ pout became more pronounced before looking away, back on Kratos. “I can’t remember, how far away is Konunsgard from here?” he asked his father, who got a pensive expression on his face.
“Two days, if we leave soon. More, the longer we delay.”
***
Kratos allowed Atreus to lead their little group in the front, falling a few paces behind them, giving the two young gods some semblance of privacy. He could see the way his son looked at the Odinsson, full of coy excitement, and let the young man be.
Mimir was not pleased with the arrangements.
“So what, you’re alright with Heimdall being around your son now, huh?” the head sneered down by his hip, and Kratos huffed out a deep sound.
“Alright? No. But I’m not about to tell him who he can speak to and who he can’t. Not anymore,” he answered. Kratos didn’t hold Heimdall in high regards, not based on what he’d heard from Mimir and Freya, but.. Atreus was infatuated with the golden god, he knew Mimir saw that just as clearly as he did, but the way Heimdall behaved towards Atreus told Kratos something. It was well-hidden, very well covered up, but Kratos saw the look in the younger god’s eyes. Bifröst purple eyes filled with fondness, not the annoyance and arrogant disdain their previous meeting would have suggested. And the only reason Kratos was able to see it, was because he observed Heimdall, every miniscule detail, motion, to figure out whether the son of Odin was a threat to his own son.
There was also the matter of the fact that his son had come home, covered in marks and the slight scent of sex, trying to convince Kratos and Mimir that a friend had told him about the body. Only to then turn up with Heimdall in tow. It amused Kratos that Atreus truly was convinced his father hadn’t connected the dots on that one. It showed that no matter how old Atreus got, he still was the sweet, naive son that Faye raised.
“The brat shouldn’t be anywhere near Atreus! Or did you forget how he threatened to kill the lad?!” Mimir continued to rage, uncaring for Kratos’ lack of participation on the topic.
No, Kratos hadn’t forgotten. But he was also making an effort to be a better man, and that also meant trying to trust his son’s judgement. He didn’t want to push Atreus away by dictating his actions, who to be around and who not to. As much as it pained him, Kratos knew that some mistakes, some hurts had to happen to make way for any growth. All he could do was teach and guide.
He exhaled loud and harshly and snapped at Mimir.
“Of course I remember, Mimir! How could I ever forget?” Flexing the muscles in his hands, he tried to calm the rage inside him. “But I’d rather have Heimdall with us here instead of alone with Atreus, where I can’t protect him.” Not that Kratos’ didn’t believe that Atreus could protect himself, he could, however, Kratos was also painfully aware of the difference in skill between the young men. Heimdall had had aeons to train, to perfect his skills, to the point where the younger god was truly deadly, whereas Atreus had barely had two decades to live and train in. Kratos, however, had defeated Heimdall before, and nothing in Helheim or Hel could stop him from doing it again, should Heimdall hurt Atreus.
“Mimir, I..” he trailed off, moving a large hand to rest on Mimir’s head. “I need you.. to stop fighting him all the time. I cannot keep myself calm if the two of you are constantly butting heads.” Kratos knew that asking Mimir while touching him was somewhat manipulative, because there was no way Mimir would refuse him like this. And while he for the most part would avoid manipulating his family, he truly needed Mimir to calm down, to get his bearings back again. He understood that Heimdall’s presence brought up rather unpleasant memories, but he also knew that it would sadden Atreus to see two people he.. cared .. for fighting.
As he expected, Mimir quieted down with a huff. “Alright, brother, I’ll do my best.” Mimir promised. Pleased, Kratos let his fingers stroke the back of Mimir’s head before curling around a horn, pulling slightly. He pretended not to hear the low gasp escaping Mimir’s mouth, though it burned through him and lit a fire low in his stomach.
“Thank you.”
Kratos kept his fingers still stroking Mimir in a slow, constant rhythm, until Mimir’s breathing evened out. Only then did he let his hand fall away and yet again focussed on the two young men before him.
Atreus was smiling at whatever it was that Heimdall had said and responded in a happy manner, while Heimdall flicked Atreus’ nose and stepped away before Atreus could retaliate.
Kratos felt incredibly conflicted. Yes, Heimdall was an enemy, had threatened his son, tried to kill Kratos himself and was a bastard. But.. but his son looked at him as if he had hung the moon, smiled and visited home more often than before he started this.. Dalliance.
Because yes, Kratos had noticed when Atreus began to come home more often, had noticed the change in his demeanour. And while he didn’t know the reason at that point, he was still pleased with the change. After years of it being only Kratos, Atreus and Mimir, suddenly just being Kratos and Mimir felt lonely. His son brought some much needed light and peace into the old god’s life.
So if Heimdall kept making Atreus smile, well it was something that he could live with - for now, at least.
Mimir just couldn’t believe it! He couldn’t!
How could Kratos allow their precious son, sweet, kind Atreus to be around that! An Odinsson?! And Heimdall no less?!
What on all nine realms was the old man thinking?!
Mimir continued to stew and grumble to himself the rest of that day, very pointedly not talking to Heimdall if it could be avoided, while still trying not to aggravate Kratos with his mumblings. When they made camp that nightfall, Kratos had the young men make camp while he hunted for dinner.
They hadn’t gone far before Kratos sighed loudly.
“What is it, Mimir?”
Mimir sulked before answering. “I just don’t get why you aren’t.. Reacting more to Atreus getting close to Heimdall?”
He could hear the old god chuckle. “Who says I’m not?”
“You are?”
A scoff, then: “of course I am. Odinsson threatened Atreus’ life before. But..” Kratos paused for a spell, “Atreus wants him around. And so far, he’s tried to be cordial with us.”
Well, he supposed that was true enough. Heimdall was a mouthy little shit, but it had seemed like he had tried to hold himself back. Made some small effort, at least.
Mimir harrumphed, “I still don’t like it.”
Kratos chuckled fondly and stroked him between the horns, a quick touch that still felt burning nonetheless. “I am well aware, Mimir. And should Heimdall hurt Atreus, you get to say ‘I told you so’.”
“Oh please, as if I would do that!”
Another rumble from Kratos. “Peace, Mimir, I know. For now, Heimdall travels with us, hopefully to your body.”
Ah yes, Mimir’s body..
To be honest, Mimir never really thought he would ever see it ever again, after Kratos ‘liberated’ his head. So far, he tried to remain calm about it, but in reality, Mimir was in seven minds about the whole affair.
Find his body? Plausible.
Reattach his head to it?
Nae, Mimir didn’t have much hope for that, but the glimmer in Atreus’ eyes was difficult to ignore. (Well that, and the thought of touching Kratos instead of being touched…)
He just prayed to the Norns that they all wouldn’t end up too disappointed by the end of this trip.
On the positive side, Kratos and Mimir were finally adventuring together with Atreus again. It filled Mimir with all kinds of warm feelings, finally being with their boy again.
When they returned to the campsite, Kratos carrying a boar over his shoulder, Mimir couldn’t help the pleased warmth spreading when he saw Atreus by the fire, smiling.
“I’ve missed this, old friend,” he told Kratos in a low voice. The ashen God gave a rough hum in response, agreeing with the sentiment.