Chapter 1: Prologue
Chapter Text
She almost cut the child down as he suddenly appeared beside her, stepping out of a shadow.
“Not that way, Lady Frigg! Here, give me your hand. I will lead you safely.”
With all the gravitas a ten year old child could muster he held out his hand to her, his face set in a determined, serious frown.
“Heimdall…no, little one, Odin will be furious with you if he finds out you helped me.”
“We don’t have time to argue, Lady Frigg. Bal- Someone told the All-Father about your plan. Come!”
He grabbed her hand - he had always been such a polite child, the movement was so unexpected from him Freya couldn’t even prevent it - and tried to drag her into his room, and to the window.
Freya threw a glance behind her. She hadn’t missed the name that almost slipped out of that little honest mouth, and her heart broke for her son at the same time she felt a swell of affection for this little boy who hated lying - even by omission, he was brutally honest - trying to spare her the hurt of that revelation.
Heimdall helped her out the window - he had to stand on his tiptoes to keep her hand in his as she climbed after him, but he refused to let go - and they hurried into the quiet darkness of Gladsheim at night, illuminated only by stars, the moon - and the bright raucous islands that were the town’s many alehouses. As they hurried along, the Great Lodge suddenly came to life, lights being lit and the doors opening, but they were already a good distance away.
The little Aesir god came to a reluctant stop at the edges of Gladsheim, looking around.
“This is as far as I can help. I have to go back now.”
“Little one, no, he will-”
“I will stall the All-Father so you have more time. I…” his whole face scrunched up in displeasure. “I will lie to him.” he sounded determined, then turned to her and suddenly surged forward, hugging her waist as tight as he could.
“Please go and be happy again, Lady Frigg.”
Before she could give voice to the sob that threatened to spill from her lips, the little boy disappeared into the night.
Oh Norns, have mercy on this little boy. Keep him safe, and warm, and shelter him from all this realm’s poison. She prayed fiercely as she made her long way back home.
—
Atreus breathed in, slowly - quiet your mind, focus on your target - breathed out and let the arrow loose, feeling a swell of pride well up, because this time it would hit, and Father would be proud.
There was a sudden rush of wind and then a tall stranger stood between them and the panickedly screaming, fleeing boar, holding his arrow as casually as if he had just picked it up from the ground.
Atreus was struck. He had never seen anyone who looked like this; tall and lithe, with pale skin and dark golden hair that fell over his shoulder in a lazy fishtail braid. His eyes were a shade of swirling pink, a color he had never seen before. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought they had just met a Huldra. But all Huldra were women, Mother had explained. Still, the stranger was beautiful enough to lure anyone into the deep forests.
He was also glaring at them.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He snarled, taking a step towards them and immediately stopping when Atreus couldn’t help but take a step back to stand a little behind Father, who immediately put a guiding hand out to keep him in cover.
“Not you little one, the lumbering oaf next to you. What are you teaching your child? You’re not even hungry!”
“We were just-” Atreus tried to explain, but Father hushed him, growling lowly.
The stranger (the other stranger, since they already had one) just raised an unimpressed eyebrow - the same way Mother had sometimes.
“Use your words, Sunshine.” The stranger snapped right back, not the least intimidated.
There was a long pause before Father ground out. “It was training.”
“The entire realm is crawling with Hel-Walkers and you decide one of the few innocent creatures still alive has to die for your training?!”
He looked from Father down to Atreus, and his features softened a bit. “I know you are sorry, little one. And in the end you didn’t shoot the animal, so no harm done. I’m sure you will not repeat your mistake.” he inclined his head. “And you already are a fine bowman, regardless. The shot would have hit its mark.”
The praise made Atreus’ ears feel hot and he shifted, hoping he wasn’t blushing like some little boy.
His father made another low sound, and Atreus looked up to see the stranger sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“So that’s just how you communicate? How did your child learn to talk like a sentient being? Where is your mother, little one? I can’t believe she lets you out unsupervised with this walking lump of bad attitude.”
“She- she’s dead. That’s why-”
“Boy.” Father stopped his explanation.
“I asked him a question.” the stranger barked, his luminous eyes glaring. “Let him speak, he’s obviously the brains of your endeavour.”
Again his expression gentled as he looked back at Atreus. “I am sorry for your loss, little one.”
“We’re bringing her ashes to the peak of the highest mountain to scatter them, it’s her last wish.”
“...I understand.”
The stranger looked at them both for a long moment, then rolled his eyes, brushing his braid off his shoulder and turning halfway away.
“Well, you’re completely on the wrong track then. The path you’re taking is both perilous and much longer than it needs to be. Follow me, I will lead you to a better route.”
“We do not need your help. Nor do we want it.” Father ground out, his huge hands clenching into fists.
“I did not ask. I refuse to let you traipse around this forest, stomping out the few herbs still growing and murdering any creatures that crosses your path because you decide it should die.”
He narrowed his eyes. “Additionally, danger follows you. The faster you get out of these woods, the better for me.”
He inclined his head. “I can hide your presence from those who track you. Even from the gods.”
“And what do you want in exchange?” Father asked, looking at the stranger suspiciously.
“Maybe I am just looking forward to having someone other than squirrels around to talk to. I’m not expecting much from you in that regard, but your son has a quick mind.”
It was strange; Father would have killed anyone else who talked to him by this point. Only Mother ever dared to tease him. But for some reason he showed a patience Atreus had never seen from him before in such matters.
He also honestly didn’t expect his father to just grunt and motion Atreus forward, inclining his head in the direction of the stranger, who scoffed. “Oh how delightful. Come along then.” Without another word, he turned around and walked down a smaller, almost hidden path.
He motioned them to wait after a few minutes of silent walking, stepping off the path and retrieving a basket half full of herbs then joining them again.
“What are those, uh…”
The stranger slowed his walk to let Atreus catch up, then tilted the basket so he could see inside. He drew back immediately when the foul smell reached him.
The stranger grinned.
“This is Henbane. It has both poisonous and medicinal uses, I need it to help someone with some tooth pain. You think this is bad? It smells even worse once it’s crushed. Don’t touch it - it can give you a rash.”
He smiled down at Atreus.
“And you may call me Mardöll.”
“I’m Atreus, and my father is Kratos.”
“Boy.” came the immediate admonishment from behind them, but Mardöll just ignored it.
“Those are fine, and definitely not northern names. Yet you were clearly born here.”
“Yeah, Father is from another land, he came here years ago.”
“Mhm. It takes skill to cover such a great distance.” He leaned down a bit, but still spoke loud enough to clearly be heard.
“Are you sure he didn’t just get lost and is too proud to admit it?” Atreus couldn’t help the burst of giggles that escaped him, even as he could practically feel his father’s disgruntlement behind them.
Mardöll threw a long glance over his shoulder, his bare feet walking surely down the path.
“Well, it’s decided. I will provide you with a meal before you go on. I don’t even want to think about what you two have been considering as food these last days.”
Father said nothing, and Atreus felt the need to do the polite thing. “It’s okay, we don’t need-”
“Hush, I already said what’s going to happen. Besides, when was the last time you had a real meal?”
“You carry poisonous plants and tell us you want to feed us.” Father remarked, his voice level. It wasn’t an accusation. If Atreus didn’t know better, he’d say it was a joke.
“It’s only poisonous if you get the dosage wrong. It has many beneficial uses as well. I am planning to use it so I can get a very cantankerous bear to finally leave me alone with his toothache.”
He made a little sound of realization. “Do you have a toothache? It would explain so much.”
“I do not have a toothache.”
“So he’s always like this?” Mardöll asked Atreus, who - really liked the attention. Mardöll involved him a lot - more than Father, actually, and it felt nice to be talked to like an adult.
The eyes were still a bit strange to get used to, and they seemed to see far more than was normal, but they were also fascinating and really pretty to look at.
They approached a huge, gnarled tree, and Mardöll stopped before it.
“I’ll need to take you through separately. Who wants to go first?”
“Go where?” Atreus asked in confusion, and Mardöll reached out a hand and shoved it without any resistance into the trunk of the tree.
Atreus gaped a bit in realization, scolding himself for not having realized it sooner.
“You’re a witch! Is that an illusion?! That’s amazing!” He immediately pushed his hand forwards and through as well. There was nothing, no change of sensation at all.
“Yes, I have bent the light to make this happen. There is a barrier behind it; I will have to take you by the hand to lead you through. Inside my home you are safe from everything, I assure you.”
The last words were directed towards Father, who was mustering both the witch and the illusionary tree.
“I swear to you on my mother’s heart I will not take your son from you or hurt him in any way.” His voice was gentler than it had ever been before when addressing his father, and Atreus looked between them curiously.
Before Father could say anything, Mardöll set down the basket of Henbane and tugged something small out from his clothes and over his head - a necklace. There was a glinting crystal on a simple leather band, reflecting light that wasn’t there.
“This is the dearest thing I possess. I- I haven’t taken it off in over a decade now. Will this suffice as a pledge?”
His father held out his open hand wordlessly, and Mardöll set the amulet down in it almost gently. For a moment it looked like they were holding hands, kept separate only by the treasure between them, then Mardöll lifted his hand and reached out to Atreus.
“It may feel a bit strange when we pass through, but you don’t have to worry.”
It did feel strange, though it really wasn’t bad, as Mardöll had promised. It felt a bit like walking through a thin wall of sea water. Or something.
They emerged on fresh, green grass softly swaying in the wind and Atreus’ mouth fell open as he looked over the clearing. There was a garden, a well and a cozy looking hut with windchimes making soft music, hanging from the roof.
There was also a massive bear who lumbered to his feet with an unhappy growl as they appeared.
“Don’t even start.” Mardöll scowled, wagging a finger. “I’ve gathered what I need and will take care of you soon, but if you even look at my guest wrong, much less try to eat him, I will make it so you will have to slobber your meals for the rest of your life. Because you won’t have any teeth left.”
The bear looked askance, then settled back down with an unhappy grumble.
“Honestly, the likeness to your father is uncanny.” Mardöll sighed, letting go of his hand. “You can look around, we’ll be back right away.”
Atreus couldn’t contain his gasp of joy and shot off to investigate.
—
Kratos was mustering the trinket in his palm intently. It clearly was not a normal crystal, but he could feel no ill intent from it, or anything at all, really, except for the lingering warmth it had stored from the witch’s skin.
The witch was quarrelsome, but strangely not too irritating. Atreus clearly already liked him - his son loved far too easily and quickly; it would only lead to pain - and the way the young witch had interacted with him had been…nice to watch.
At that moment the witch stepped out from the illusion and approached him, expression serious.
Kratos hand went for his axe on instinct.
“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, put that away. I need to talk to you alone for a moment, that’s all.”
The young man came to a stop in front of him fearlessly, looking up at him with narrowed and still mesmerizing eyes.
He was much too beautiful not to be false in some way.
“I know you’re a god, Kratos. I don’t like gods, save for a very few exceptions, and I haven’t yet decided if you’re one of them. But much more importantly…you have to tell Atreus about his heritage. He has no idea, and the discrepancy between his body, mind and soul is dangerous.”
“This is none of your concern, witch.”
An elegant hand slapped his chest in reproach. “You’re an idiot. I don’t know what your deal is, and frankly I don’t particularly care as long as you don’t bring more gods to my doorstep, but if you keep being a selfish -” he broke off, exhaling sharply and took a step back.
“But yes, it’s none of my concern. If you don’t love your son enough to tell him the truth, that is your business.”
He thrust his hand out impatiently, grasping for Kratos’ with a huff of annoyance when he didn’t immediately comply.
He tried dragging him to the illusory tree, and Kratos let it happen, passing through the trick of the light and the barrier with no complaint. He stepped onto green grass, his eyes sweeping over the space quickly - much too open, not safe at all - before finding his son, who was kneeling next to a bear who had his head in his lap and was whining pitifully as Atreus petted his ears.
“You leave him alone for ten seconds and he starts befriending bears.” The witch huffed, but his previous ire was already melting away. Atreus looked up as they approached and waved, then said something to the bear that made the beast move his head off his lap with another pitiful rumbling sound.
“I will take care of this whining little babe, then you will help me cook dinner.” He announced to both of them, and disappeared into the hut with the basket of henbane.
Kratos stared as the bear immediately put his head back in Atreus’ lap, nudging him insistently for more attention, and Atreus laughed, starting up his petting again. He let his gaze travel over the clearing again, slower this time. It was a peaceful place.
But their home had been peaceful too, once.
Safety was only ever temporary.
There was clattering from inside the hut and he walked closer, entering the witch’s home and ducking his head slightly under the doorframe. Mardöll was cutting the roots of the henbane into smaller pieces, placing them into a large mortar that already contained other things Kratos didn’t care to learn about.
“Don’t worry, I won’t reveal your secret, sunshine. My opinion on the matter notwithstanding, it’s none of my business.”
Irritated pink eyes met his over the witch’s shoulder before the younger man turned back to his task.
“Your pledge.” Kratos replied simply, stepping closer, and Mardöll made a surprised little sound. “Just- just set it down somewhere, I have to clean my hands before…” his words slowed and trailed off when Kratos stepped up behind him, carefully lifting the necklace over the witch’s head and settling the crystal under the man’s tunic, over his heart, where it belonged.
Mardöll had stopped cutting, his whole body still. There was barely a breath of space between them. When the crystal rested on his skin again, covered by his clothing, he exhaled slowly.
“...thank you.” He said quietly. “It is the only thing- …nevermind. Hand me the jar with the moon carved into its stopper.”
“Mhn.” Kratos grabbed the clay jar and held it out, and Mardöll nodded towards the mortar. “About a third of what’s left in the jar. Make sure nothing gets on your hands.”
“It is dangerous?”
“No, it will just leave your skin smelling like you slept in a rosebush. I figured you wouldn’t like that.”
Roses were much preferable to blood, so Kratos did not care much. He uncorked the stopper, threw a glance inside and then shook a third of the powder into the mortar before corking the jar again and returning it to its place.
“Good. This’ll make the furry grump sleep through most of the healing. He is insufferable. Why are all the biggest beasts the greatest whiners- never mind.”
“Why are you doing this?” Kratos asked lowly, mustering the witch for any sudden movement. He sensed no foul intent, but he had to be sure. Atreus’ safety was most important.
For the first time, the rhythmic clack of the knife on wood stopped.
“Maybe…it gets lonely, sometimes. Maybe I welcome the company.” His mesmerizing eyes looked at Kratos.
“Maybe I have lost a mother I loved very much and there isn’t much I wouldn’t do to honor her.”
He inhaled deeply, his eyes closing for a second, and then rolled his shoulders, turning back to his task. The knife started moving again.
“Maybe I am simply very charitable to a monosyllabic grumpy stranger and his curious, adorable son.”
“I am not grumpy.”
Mardöll snorted inelegantly. “Never let anyone tell you you have no sense of humour.”
“You mentioned you can hide our presence from the gods.”
“Well. Not exactly hiding. It’s more like…diffusing. I can not make you disappear, but I can make it so that…no one will be able to pinpoint your location. It will be as if you’re everywhere at once.”
“That will be adequate.”
The witch huffed out a chuckle as he used the knife to toss the last bit of diced Henbane roots into the mortar and turned to Kratos. “I’m not doing this in here - the last time I couldn’t get the stench out of here for a month. I’ll have to change after this too. So why don’t you go and stare stoically at your son making friends with a bear.”
He was not following the witch’s order, but there was nothing else to do in the hut once the young man had left. He threw a last look around the space - a home, like their own had been - and exited to find Atreus sitting on the bear’s belly and vigorously scritching it to the bear’s obvious pleasure.
Mardöll had moved further away to a small bench standing in the far back of the garden, close to where the barrier started.
He looked down at the mortar in his lap and scrunched up his nose, then took a deep breath and holding it in before starting to grind the ingredients into one mixture.
It really smelled disgusting, reminding Kratos of a water bloated corpse being left out in the sun, and he could only imagine how much worse it must be up close. The witch was visibly breathing through his mouth, and looked utterly relieved when the process was apparently finished, waving a hand over the mortar, fingertips glowing purplish-blue for a moment.
Then he exhaled in relief, standing up and sniffed at his clothing, nose scrunching up again before marching over and glaring at the bear until Atreus sheepishly climbed off his belly and let the beast clamber to his feet.
“All of it. I don’t care if it tastes awful. No, I’m not adding honey. Honey is for bears who aren’t huge whining cubs about some toothache.”
The bear made a disappointed growl, but started to lick the pungent mixture from the mortar as Mardöll set it down. He finished with an unhappy growl, then blinked visibly and slowly collapsed to the side, snoring.
“Finally some peace and quiet.” The witch muttered, as Atreus knelt beside the bear worriedly.
“Oh, don’t worry, he’s just sleeping.”
He looked from Atreus up to Kratos, and back. “I need a bath. Can you keep an eye on your father for me? Keep him from getting into mischief.”
Atreus looked up at him dubiously, but turned back to Mardöll dutifully. “I’ll do my best?”
Mardöll smiled. “Good boy.” He ruffled Atreus’ hair for a second, smile growing wider at the boy’s flustered expression, and walked back into the hut.
—
Mardöll’s home was awesome, and beautiful, and fascinating - just as the witch himself. The bear was still snoring heavily as they heard Mardöll move around his hut, stepping out again after a while, carrying a bucket. He smiled at Atreus, then gave Father a little huff and went over to the well, setting down the bucket and removing a towel, a fresh set of clothes, a large sponge and a bar of soap.
“Atreus.” His father called as Mardöll turned his back on them, pulling his shirt over his head.
“Do not watch him. This is private.”
“Oh, right!” Atreus said, turning on his heel, his face feeling a little warm for some reason, and sat down next to the bear, petting him as he slept. Father turned around as well, setting down on a stone and started to clean Mother’s axe slowly.
It was the most peaceful they had been in a while, and Atreus soon found himself yawning, scooting closer to his father and leaning against his leg hesitatingly. Father stopped his rhythmic motions for a moment, then exhaled and started up again, his leg shifting just slightly in a way that was surely accidental but provided a better rest as it had before.
“Don’t get into trouble.” he murmured as his eyes closed, and the calm “I will not.” and the warm, large hand on his head was surely already a dream.
He woke with a start, blinking into the afternoon sun and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.
Father was just sitting there, not moving an inch. The axe was once again at his back.
“The witch is getting dressed.” The low voice above him said, and Atreus clambered to his feet, stretching.
“Do you think I can take a bath too?” Father just inclined his head. “Ask the witch.”
“I do have a name, and yes, of course you can, Atreus.” Mardöll’s voice rang out behind them and he looked up to see the witch approach them, absentmindedly tying his hair back.
“Maybe we can even persuade your father to wash three days old blood off himself finally.”
“Your lake is salt water.” Came the calm reply, and Mardöll sighed.
“Yes, and? I made it that way. It…makes me feel safe.” He shrugged. “I have a basin that should be big enough for you to take a warm bath, even, little one. Would you like that?”
“Really?! That would be great!” Mardöll laughed at his enthusiasm. “Yes, really. You, it can fit. Your father…maybe one leg?” He eyed Father critically. “Maybe one lower leg.”
Atreus couldn’t hold back the little giggle once again. No one but Mother had ever talked to Father like that, and somehow it was really funny.
“The well will be sufficient.”
“Sufficient, he says.” Mardöll muttered to himself, rolling his eyes, then smiled down at Atreus. “Let us see about that basin, hm?”
Atreus nodded, the prospect of a warm bath making him almost skip along as he followed Mardöll into the hut.
—
They ended up staying the night, bellies full with warm food, and Kratos saw the way Atreus was comfortably sleepy, his eyes half lidded, and he had not spoken of leaving yet. Mardöll had muttered to himself distractedly and pulled several blankets and pillows out of a large trunk, then frowned down at the floor.
“It is not that I do not trust you-”
“We will sleep outside,”
The open relief in Mardöll’s expression made Atreus pipe up immediately, nodding along.
“It’ll be super nice to sleep somewhere safe! And there’s moss close by the little brook.”
Mardöll still seemed torn between relief and guilt, so Kratos simply took the blankets from him and left the hut. He heard Atreus speak more, something reassuring no doubt, and then his son followed him out, waving over his shoulder.
His assurance had not been a simple lie to soothe the witch’s conscience, but the moss they spread their bedrolls on was uncommonly soft and thick, almost like a mattress. Magic?
It was no matter, he thought as Atreus rolled over in sleep, seeking warmth and closeness from him. Kratos carefully shifted to accommodate his son.
After several nights spent in the wilds, the quietness of the witch’s home was unfamiliar, and Kratos found it difficult to fall asleep.
The slight creaking of the door to the hut opening roused him from any light doze. He looked, careful not to move, in case the witch meant to slit their throats in sleep, but Mardöll wasn’t even paying attention to them.
He walked on silent feet across the grass, towards the shore of the small, unnatural salt water lake, and stopped, looking over the calm mirror of the water in the night. His hair was unbound again, turned silver by the moonlight.
As Kratos watched, he crouched down, slowly reaching out towards the water, resting his palm on the surface with a reverence that made the act seem more than a simple gesture.
This was private. It seemed more invasive than watching him bathe had been, and Kratos knew with a sudden clarity that this was a moment of grief, and he was intruding, no matter that Mardöll was unaware of his gaze.
He tore his eyes away, closing them, but the image of the lithe, graceful form followed him into sleep.
tbc/the end
Chapter 2: Chapter 1
Notes:
This is a gift for GenosDaSai!! Both for their wonderful comment and because it is their birthday!
The plot thickens. We continue to speedrun GOW4, some larger divergences are starting to arrive!
Some mysteries are cleared up, some more unfold, so many questions still remain...I hope you enjoy!
Chapter Text
They had left early the next morning, Mardöll leading them through his barrier once more and then pointing them down what he called ’the actual way unless you like wandering around and getting into more trouble’. He had held out a wrapped little package, rolling his eyes when Father did not immediately take it, and then handed Atreus an apple with a smile.
“Remember, little one, you are skilled, and you are clever. Both are qualities far more important than brute strength.”
Atreus nodded, looking to the side as he felt his ears grow warm again. He wasn’t entirely sure he believed the words, but it was nice that Mardöll said them nonetheless.
It stung when Father still didn’t let him carry Mother’s ashes, even when they were almost there, finally. Atreus had done his best, and still Father looked down on him.
It wasn’t fair.
Neither was the black, putrid smoke blocking their way. Even without Father’s caution, he knew better than to get too close.
“We must find another way up.” Father said coldly, and Atreus wanted to shout in frustration, especially because -
“Mardöll! If he was here, I bet he could get us past this.” But he was far behind them, down the mountain, and they had no way of reaching him.
But they were so close.
“Magic is of no use against the Black Breath, and there is no other way around it if you want to reach the peak. The All-Father made sure of that long ago.”
They both turned, and Atreus couldn’t stop himself from skipping closer to the young man standing in the snow, still barefoot. Wasn’t he cold? Why was he even here?”
“Just making sure you can actually finish your journey.” Mardöll answered the question Atreus hadn’t asked aloud. He had done that before, too, hadn’t he?
“Why wait to warn us?”
“Oh, I am so sorry, Master Kratos I had not realized I was your obedient servant.” Mardöll said with a glare, and Father only gave a noise in answer, but didn’t push further.
Mardöll pointed further up, and Atreus noticed the smoke pouring out from a face in the mountain.
“It’s a corruption of magic, and there is no way to dispel it. Only the pure light of Alfheim can push through and disperse it.”
Mardöll’s hand went to his chest, where the crystal necklace hung, then he shook his head a little, focusing on them both.
“It won’t be easy to attain. Is this goal worth it to you?”
Father took a menacing step closer, but Atreus whispered “It’s everything. Please?”
The witch exhaled, looking at them both for a long moment, then nodded. “Follow me.” Before he could fully turn back the way they had all come from, Father grabbed his arm, and the two looked at each other, both their faces unreadable to Atreus. Then Father let him go and nodded as well.
Mardöll scoffed. “Oh, so gracious of you to accept my help, Sunshine.”
“Mn.”
—
The witch led them down the mountain, keeping his stride shorter to allow Atreus to keep up without struggle. His son chattered along happily, as the witch readily answered him.
“So, did you see Sindri on your way up? What do you think of him?”
“Sindri? I didn’t meet anyone.”
“Huh, maybe he left? He’s a dwarf, he’s worked on Father’s axe - his brother did too, but they don’t talk to each other.”
“That explains it, then. Dwarves are very good at disappearing from places at a moment’s notice.”
The witch threw a glance over his shoulder and met Kratos’ eyes, then grinned. His golden teeth caught the sun for a moment, before he turned back to Atreus.
“Let me guess. Your father didn’t like this Sindri. Or his brother, for that matter.”
Atreus snickered, nodding and looked at Kratos as well, his eyes bright with laughter in a way they only seldom were when directed at him.
It was a good sight.
They stopped at the edge of the crevice that cut off the way to Tyr’s temple, and Mardöll sighed, closing his eyes for a moment.
He turned towards Atreus, crouching down. “Come here a moment, Atreus. Can I see your bow?”
Puzzled, but trustingly moving forward, his son presented his bow to the witch, who looked at it for a long moment, something hesitant in his eyes, before he turned his gaze first to Atreus, then to Kratos himself.
He reached up and tugged his treasured necklace over his head, holding the still unnaturally bright crystal, and motioned for Atreus to hold out the bow further.
“You will need this to go on. A little of the light of Alfheim is stored in this crystal. If we-”
He trailed the crystal over the string of the bow, gently, down, and up again, and when he pulled away the crystal was dull and empty, and Atreus’ bowstring glowed softly. His son’s eyes were big, his mouth half open in wonder as he held the bow this way and that, mesmerized by the shine of the string. Mardöll smiled, then pointed at a small crystal fastened in some way to the ledge they couldn’t reach. “Do you see the crystal there? Shoot it.”
Atreus looked up at him questioningly, and Kratos nodded shortly. They watched the bridge of solid light spring to life, and Mardöll strode across it confidently, his feet throwing up gentle sparks of light wherever he set them.
“It’s made by elves. Tyr’s temple was built by all the races working together, you will see many different influences.”
“Like those roots? Are they magic too?”
The witch trailed his hand over one of the large, glowing roots along their path, his face closed off, but he nodded at Atreus with a weak smile. “Yes, they are of Vanir magic.”
“Like from Vanaheim?”
“Clever little boy.”
Atreus ducked his head, pleased. “I only know a little of them. Mother said they were always at war with the Aesir. They’re the good guys, right?”
“There are no good gods, boy. I thought I taught you that.” Kratos intersected into their easy conversation seeing the way his son’s shoulders dropped as if scolded.
“Good and bad are always merely a matter of perspective, Atreus. But your father is right in one thing. You shouldn’t put your trust in any god easily. They follow their own wants and seldom pay attention to the needs of others.” His smile turned bitter as he looked down at Atreus, ruffling his hair to take any harshness out of his words.
“And there was peace, once. It was a long time ago, and it lasted for only a little while but…there was peace.”
“...what happened?”
Mardöll’s eyes turned to Kratos over Atreus’ head and locked him in place.
“It ended. As it always does, sooner or later.”
Kratos held his gaze.
—
“Father is really strong.”
“That he is.” Mardöll replied blithely to Atreus’ comment, and they both leaned forward a bit to watch Father as he turned the entire Temple around. It looked like it was hard, but not nearly so hard as to make him sweat.
“Put your back into it, Sunshine! Almost done.”
The strained, and slightly annoyed grunt that reached their ears made Atreus bite his lip to keep from laughing, especially when Mardöll nudged him lightly with a grin, then pointed back at the stone he had handed to him as they sat down. “So, as I said. You’ll need to bathe the Bifröst here in the light of Alfheim. It has enough of it left to get you there, but you won’t be able to leave until it is filled again. I’ll give your Father the travel rune once he’s done here.”
“You won’t be coming with us?”
“I…” for the first time since they met, Atreus saw Mardöll falter, his lips pressing into a thin line.
“I…might not be able to. I’m not…I shouldn’t draw attention to myself.”
“Is it dangerous for you to be out here?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. It depends on who’s looking.”
“Father can protect you from anyone who tries to get you.”
Mardöll huffed amusedly, his smile turning down.
“Fathers are always almighty in their children’s eyes, aren’t they?”
Before Atreus could say anything to that - and not sure he should, because Mardöll looked sad now - the slow movement of the Temple stopped, and they soon heard Father’s heavy footsteps coming up the stairs.
“He always walks as if the ground mortally offended him.” Mardöll huffed, but his eyes were lighter again and it wasn’t like it wasn’t true.
“I hope he didn’t hurt his back.”
Mardöll turned towards him so fast for a moment Atreus feared he would fall off the ledge they were sitting on.
“Please, little one, please ask him that. It would make my season.”
Father said he didn’t hurt his back.
–
Mardöll was mostly quiet, letting Atreus explain how the travel between realms worked, only jumping in when he faltered. When he was finished, he tilted his head to the side.
“Very good, Atreus.” He handed Father the Bifröst and then held out his hand palm up until Father offered his own, drawing a glowing purple rune onto his palm with one finger.
“This allows you to go to Alfheim. Now, I already told Atreus, but it bears repeating. Once you reach Alfheim, you won’t be able to leave until you’ve refilled the Bifröst. You will have to reach the Light to get back to Midgard.”
“You are not coming with us.” It was almost a question.
“I- I’ll try.”
But he stopped before they left the Temple. Atreus only noticed when he didn’t hear footsteps behind him, because he’d run forward, marvelling at the differences all around - even the sky looked changed.
Father stood between him and the door, half turned away, and Atreus followed his gaze, then froze in worry.
Mardöll looked terrified, rooted to the ground just at the edge of the door, looking out into Alfheim with eyes that were bright with dread.
His gaze flickered up, towards the sky, before he looked down again, and he still looked afraid, but also ashamed.
“I can’t. I- If I am found…I shouldn’t be here. I shouldn’t…I need to go.”
Atreus hated the hunted look on his face.
“It’s alright! Don’t worry, we’re not mad. You already helped so much! Right?” He looked at Father imploringly, and to his surprise, Father actually nodded.
“We can finish this ourselves. You have been helpful.”
Mardöll looked at them both for a long moment, still tense and unhappy, and then he was gone.
“He’ll be alright, right?”
“He is skilled.”
That meant yes. Atreus found himself breathing easier, even as he wondered what terrible monster could make Mardöll so fearful at even the thought of being found.
—
“So what if he’s not home? Or doesn’t notice we’re there?”
“Then we seek another way.”
“Can I keep the head if we can’t bring it back?”
“If you make sure it does not smell.”
“Awesome!”
They reached the illusionary tree, and Atreus reached forward, only to be stopped by Father.
“It could be dangerous.” He reached forward himself, his arm moving as he seemed to encounter something - the barrier most likely. For a long moment, nothing happened, and Atreus was about to suggest knocking, then Father’s other hand grabbed him suddenly and they were both yanked forward.
“I had not thought I’d see you again! …cheered too soon, I guess.” the young man said, mustering them both intently. “Have you eaten? Did you manage to break something?”
“It’s so good to see you again!” Atreus surged forward to hug Mardöll, who stiffened like a log before returning the hug with a few pats on his head.
“It is good to be seen. I think. What do you need?”
“Can you bring back a head?”
“A…what?”
Father produced Mimir’s head holding him out like a strange gift.
Heimdall blinked, then his eyes widened.
“That’s…are you insane to bring him here? Did you kill him?”
“It was his idea.”
“Do you even know who this is? The moment Odin finds out you circumvented his punishment…”
“He has information we need.”
Mardöll’s eyes trailed from the head to Father, and then down to Atreus.
“Is he serious? Are you serious?”
“If you are unable to revive him, we will find another way.”
“Of course I can, but-”
“Please?” Atreus interrupted, looking up at Mardöll with big eyes.
Mardöll visibly faltered, but then nodded with a sigh. “Take him to the bench. There’s a bucket - fill it with water from the lake. I’ll be right back.”
Atreus sat on the bench, feet swinging, the head beside him, still dead, and Father stood next to him with the full bucket.
Mardöll sighed as he approached them, a bowl in his hand.
“Why do I let you talk me into such follies?”
He looked at them both, then set the bowl down on the bench.
“The bucket.”
Father set it down on the bench and Mardöll slowly poured the contents of the bowl into it, then stirred it a few times with his hand before pulling away with a grimace and looking around. With no rag nearby, he wiped his hand on the leather of Father’s armor. Father let it happen with only a twitch of his eyebrow.
“Alright then. Dunk him - don’t let him come up even if he struggles.”
Father picked up the head and pressed it into the bucket without hesitation, then rested his other hand on the rim of it as the whole bucket started shaking and trembling. Purplish-blue light shone from the surface, then there was a sudden flash of gold.
“That’s enough, I think.”
“You think?”
“Well, I don’t exactly run around resurrecting heads for fun.”
Father lifted the head out again. Nothing happened for a long second, then Mimir sputtered and spat out a few petals.
“Well, look at that, it worked!”
“Evidently.”
Atreus scooted forward curiously, noticing Mardöll shrink back a little, his face set in an unhappy frown.
“Are you alright, Mimir?”
“I think so, lad! And since I think, I am! Splendid!”
“You did it! That was amazing, Mardöll!”
“Mardöll? Is that the witch you spoke of? Aye, brother, turn me so I can thank them properly!”
“No, don’t-”
Mimir choked on his own spit - Atreus idly wondered how choking worked when you were only a head - when Father turned him around, staring wide-eyed at Mardöll.
Then he sputtered.
“Norns’ breath, is that - Heimdall? Prince Heimdall?! I thought you were dead, lad!”
“No, his name is-”
“You lied?”
Mardöll - Heimdall? - glared at Father at the low, angry words, even as he shifted his weight to the backfoot.
“I didn’t lie. I said you can call me Mardöll. I never said that was actually my name.”
“You are a god.”
“Don’t start with that, Kratos.”
As they looked at each other with heavy, angry and hurt gazes, Mimir looked at Atreus. “Me’n my big mouth. If I’d known - lad, how is this possible? You- Freya killed you!”
Heimdall - Mardöll? - flinched as if stabbed, looking away from Father with huge eyes. “What? No! I- it was my fault, I-”
“We are leaving.” Father interrupted them both, hooking Mimir’s head back to his belt, not looking at Mar - at Heimdall.
“Atreus. Come.”
“But-”
“Now.”
“Brother, wait, really - this isn’t…”
“Silence.”
Father herded him towards the place they had emerged from the barrier from, not looking back, and not answering any of Atreus’ or Mimir’s questions or pleas. His face was like stone.
They left.
—
“It still boggles my mind to think about. Heimdall - alive! Odin, that raven fucking piece of dung lied! …I shouldn’t be surprised. I don’t know why I am surprised. After what happened to Tyr…”
“He is one of Odin’s sons?” Kratos knew the head’s incessant babbling was at least in part to distract him from the way Atreus lied pale and feverish in his arms as they returned towards where the witch - Heimdall, a god and his only hope - lived.
“Aye, brother. Second youngest, though his mothers were never allowed in Asgard.”
“Mothers?”
“Yes, don’t ask me how. Odin just appeared with the babe one day, said his name was Heimdall and he was a Prince of the Aesir. And deeply entwined with Ragnarök.”
“You said Freya killed him.”
“Well, that’s the story! The lad disappeared the same night she did, Odin returned to the Great Lodge with a bloody cloak, and called for a time of mourning for his precious son, slain by his wicked witch of a wife when the lad tried to stop her.”
The head’s voice was bitter with disgust.
“Lady Freya would never harm a child, I should have known better. Even if she was desperate, and especially not Heimdall.”
“Mn.”
“They were very close, aye. The lad had never had a mother present before, and he orbited around her every chance he got. She taught him magic, too. That must be how he passed as a witch for so long.”
Kratos said nothing, his mind awhirl with concern, with fear - but at the same time he couldn’t help but call himself a fool for not having guessed. He had known Mardöll was no mere witch, his eyes alone marked him as different, but Atreus had been so carefree around him, so happy…
And it was not like he could only name his son’s joy as a reason not to look too closely.
They arrived, finally, at the entrance to Heimdall’s home. “We are here.”
“That’s a tree, brother.”
“It is not.”
“What do- whoa!”
Kratos stepped into the illusion without hesitation, shifting his grip on Atreus carefully so he could pound against the barrier. There was no reaction.
“Heimdall! Let us in, now! Do you hear me?!” The solid water that made up the barrier heated under his fist suddenly, then grew colder than ice, but he paid the pain no mind and kept beating against the shield with as much force as he could muster without jostling Atreus.
“My son is sick! Heimdall!”
With the next pound his fist passed through the barrier as if it was nothing more than rain and he almost stumbled onto the clearing.
Before either he or the head could say anything, Heimdall was already in front of them, all his attention on the small, trembling form in Kratos’ arms.
“What has- Atreus.” Slim, pale fingers trailed over his son’s brow, the pads glowing softly, then he jerked back, looking up at Kratos.
“The discord in his soul is causing this. His two natures are fighting inside him.”
“Can you heal him?”
The god bit his lip, his eyes clouding for a moment, then he shook his head. “This is beyond my skills. Only…there is one person I know of who can help him. She’ll need…you need to go to Helheim. Find the bridgekeeper, get his heart. I can keep him stable, but you must hurry.” He rushed back to his hut, Kratops following him anxiously. Inside, he saw Heimdall hastily clear the blanket off his bed, beckoning him to lay Atreus down, already halfway turned away to grab a bowl and fill it with water from a pitcher. He sat down with the bowl and a clean rag, gently wiping the sweat from his son’s forehead, his other hand resting on his chest. After a few seconds, the hand started glowing in that purple-blue hue again, a steady, soft pulse like a heartbeat.
“He will not die. But I cannot make him better.”
Kratos felt weakness in his knees and forced himself to stay upright. Wallowing in despair would not help anything, and Atreus the least.
“I did this to him?”
“Your guilt is not important right now. Come here, show me your palm.”
Heimdall dropped the rag back into the bowl and hastily grabbed the offered hand, tracing another rune onto Kratos’ palm with a quick gesture.
“This is the travel rune to Helheim. Get the bridgekeeper’s heart. Hurry.”
“Helheim? Ach, lad, not again…brother, Helheim is a realm of never ending cold. Your axe will be useless there, and no natural or magical flame from any of the Realms can burn.”
Heimdall grabbed his hand, tugging to get his attention.
“From the Realms. But you are not from here. Is your past shame more important than your son?”
“I will need to go home.”
“Will you travel by water?”
“It is the fastest way.”
Heimdall nodded, his face unreadable. He was quiet for a moment, then took a breath.
“Come closer.”
Kratos stepped forward, then sank to one knee in front of the god who was keeping his son alive.
Heimdall leaned forward, his eyes flashing, and pressed a kiss to Kratos’ forehead. His lips were cool, and as he pulled away, a drop of seawater, cold and salty, rolled down the bridge of Kratos’ nose like a single tear.
“When you reach the water, touch your hand to it and think of where you need to go. It will speed your journey.”
He didn’t meet Kratos’ eyes, a light blush on his cheeks.
“Be quick about it.”
“I will.”
—
Kratos had readied himself to return to Heimdall’s home as he stepped back into Tyr's temple, the heart secured and the chains horribly familiar around his forearms, even after so long. He stopped when he saw Heimdall leaning against the facsimile of the World Tree, his son safely in his arms, his eyes closed. He started, straightening up when Kratos emerged, looking at him from across the room and even with this distance between them, Kratos could see the young god was exhausted. He still had a hand on Atreus’ chest, pulsing softly with magic.
“...there you are.”
He even sounded tired, and Kratos wasted no time approaching, reaching out to touch Atreus’ head carefully the moment he was close enough.
“Why are you here?”
“We need to travel to a different realm.”
Kratos mustered him. “You need not come with us.”
“Yes, I do. Vanaheim is a dangerous place, and you won’t find your way in time without me.”
“Vanaheim! Lad, are you talking about-”
“She’s the only one I know who is powerful enough to heal Atreus. She- if I stay out of sight, she never has to know I’m there at all.”
“Freya.” Kratos realized who they were talking about.
“Yes. I’m the reason the realms call her a child slayer. It’s the gravest insult I can think of to her, and she is…very good at holding grudges.” He swallowed. Kratos watched his grip on Atreus tighten nervously. Mimir made a sound of disbelief, but didn’t say anything, and Kratos mustered Heimdall intently.
“There is more. She is not the only reason you are afraid of leaving.”
“My home is the only place I am hidden completely from Odin’s gaze. I have the same enchantment I gave you, but it only makes it impossible to find me. It doesn’t keep Odin from learning I am still alive.” He went silent for a moment, then closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. The thought of even being noticed clearly terrified him, and Kratos thought back to his own father once more.
“But that doesn’t matter. You need me there, to keep Atreus safe.”
Heimdall looked up at Kratos, his anxiousness replaced with determination. “I won’t let anything happen to him.”
Kratos had seen much during his life, horrors and wonders both. But never anyone as beautiful as the young man standing before him in that moment.
“I will not let any harm come to you.”
The younger god ducked his head. “I know.”
tbc(?)
Chapter Text
After the winter cold of Midgard and the spring warmth of Alfheim, the humid summer heat of Vanaheim was much less pleasant. Stepping out of the temple was like walking into a wall of pressure, stifling and unwelcome.
Heimdall walked beside him, half a step back and took a deep breath, slightly shaky with nerves, before he straightened up, tilted his head slightly, and went still.
“The lad’s hearing is excellent, brother, no worries. He’ll find the Vanir in no time-”
“That way. There’s a settlement about an hour away.”
The walk was peaceful, barring several creatures attacking them. Heimdall kept out of the way of Kratos’ blades, Atreus held safely in his arms. He didn’t interfere, not even to call out warnings the way Mimir did. But Kratos felt his eyes on him as if it was a physical touch.
“You are very good at this, aren’t you?” He asked, stepping around the beast Kratos had finished with a decisive blow to the head, almost splitting its skull.
“Killing?”
“Keeping others safe as you fight.”
Kratos stopped for half a heartbeat before he found his footing again and kept walking.When he glanced back at Heimdall several paces later, the Aesir was concentrating on Atreus.
Soon they reached the first signs of a nearby inhabited camp. Tracks, giving way to dirt paths as they neared, which turned into actual roads soon. Then they spotted the fortifications, high, wooden walls, and a few guards patrolling them, hiding what must be the settlement behind them.
Heimdall came to a stop, swallowing hard. He obviously wrestled with fear, but as Kratos had come to expect, banished it with one look down at Atreus in his arms.
“You should go alone, at first. She’s inside, but the sight of an Aesir will only enrage them and sour your chances to get Atreus help. So, if you can, don’t mention me before you get a promise not to harm you or your companions unless attacked.”
“Mention the lad first of all, brother. Lady Freya’s much more likely to hear you out then.”
Heimdall nodded.
“Try to look…less threatening.”
“That’s like asking a shark to walk onto land and dance a jig, lad. Just…stay calm, brother.”
“I will.” He met Heimdall’s gaze for a moment. He would not let any harm come to him, this young god who had given so much, so freely, had made Atreus laugh and smile with such ease.
Was now exhausting himself and facing deep-rooted fears for his sake.
Kratos would slay any Vanir in this Realm if they dared to attack him.
He didn’t need to say any of this out loud. Heimdall’s eyes widened before he looked down, biting his lip. There was a soft flush on his cheeks.
He walked up to the large gate confidently, his arms at his sides, and came to a stop just out of range of the guards’ bows. He was mustered intently, distrustfully, but so far no one had shot at him.
“What do you want, stranger? You’re not Vanir.”
“I seek Freya. I need to talk to her.”
“And why would we even bother the Queen of the Vanir for you?”
Kratos took a deep breath, acknowledging the soft “Peace now, brother, take a breath.” with a grunt and fixed the Vanir who had spoken with his glare.
“My son is ill.”
“That’s no business-”
The guard was interrupted by a commotion inside the walls, and he looked down, his eyes going wide in surprise.
Shortly afterwards, the gate opened and a tall woman stepped out, wary, yet regal.
“I see no child with you, stranger. Who are you?”
“You are Freya?”
She tilted her head as if to say ’obviously’.
“My son, Atreus, needs your help.”
“You are not from any Realm in the North. How do you know I would be able to help, outsider?”
“Lady Freya, if I may -”
Kratos lifted the head from his belt at his words, and saw Freya’s eyes widen in surprise. Her mouth dropped open a bit before she got control over her features.
“Mimir? What - do you know who you carry with you like a fancy adornment on your belt?”
Kratos only made a low sound in reply. He was getting impatient. Atreus and Heimdall were alone, and Heimdall would have trouble defending them if anyone found them. This would, of course, not stop him. But he would endanger himself for Atreus’ sake, and that was not acceptable.
“My Lady, that’s a long story, and we really don’t have time for that just now. Please, Lady Freya, he speaks the truth. The lad is sick and you’re the only one we know of who can heal him.”
“Your assurances aren’t worth the air you waste by speaking them. Do you think I’ve forgotten it was you who brokered -”
She broke off, her sharp gaze flittering over Kratos’ shoulder to fixate on something - someone - behind him, and her whole body stiffened.
“That is not- not possible…”
Heimdall stepped next to Kratos, tense as a bowstring but meeting her gaze head on. Kratos shifted beside him, ready to act if she moved in anger.
“Lady Freya, I’m doing all I can, but he needs your skills. Please. I know you must hate me, but Atreus has never done anything to you.”
“Hate…you think I hate you?”
The look in her eyes was familiar, and it was the only reason Kratos let her step close as she moved forward as if drawn by strings. Heimdall threw him a short glance, but held still as she approached him, trusting him not to let harm come to him.
“I- because of me the All-Father…”
“I thought he killed you. I thought he killed you for daring to help me. Dear boy…my little light…”
Her hand trembled when she reached up to cup his cheek in one palm, her eyes shining with wonder and old grief.
“Look at you. How you’ve grown…” She swallowed, closing her eyes for a moment and took a deep breath as she stepped back, letting her hand sink down to Heimdall’s shoulder.
“How could I ever hate you?”
“Lady Frigg…”
His mouth opened and closed a few times with no sound coming out, then he exhaled and broke their eye contact to instead look at Kratos, who had moved his hands away from his weapons. Kratos nodded, and Heimdall relaxed somewhat, some of the tension going out of his body. More of that trust. He had done nothing to earn it, and it was like a ray of sunshine every time the Aesir showed it so easily.
Freya looked slowly from him to Kratos, then back.
“Now. The child needs healing?”
“Yes, please. We have the heart you need, I just couldn’t…I didn’t want to risk it.”
“The heart? …I see.” She looked down at Atreus, her fingers ghosting over his sweaty forehead slowly, then she inhaled, looking at Kratos.
“You know why this has happened.”
“He has reasons to be cautious, Lady Frigg-”
“Yes. I do.” Kratos interrupted Heimdall’s defense, not shying away from her accusing look.
“And will you rectify it?”
“...I will.”
“Good. Heimdall trusts you, so I will as well. For now.”
Her eyes lost the coldness as she turned back towards the Aesir, her hand resting on top of the one he had on Atreus’ chest.
“You have done very well. Come, we will fix this.”
Heimdall took a step forward without hesitation before faltering, looking back at Kratos in question.
“Go, brother, Lady Freya wouldn’t go back on her word, especially not where the lad is concerned.” Mimir piped up and Kratos made a low sound of confirmation before following along the two gods.
Freya led them through the settlement confidently, not showing hesitation or apprehension towards them, and the vanir took their cue from their queen. The gazes following them now were more curious than suspicious, and in more than one case appreciative as they saw the tall, golden form of Heimdall.
Kratos kept close to him. He carried Atreus, after all and more than that, the glances clearly made him uncomfortable.
They ended up in one of the larger houses, Freya directing Heimdall to a nearby bed as she went towards the back of the room, gathering multiple things together, her brow furrowed in concentration.
Kratos watched Heimdall sit down, exhaustion showing in the way he moved slowly and carefully. Kratos came closer and helped him rearrange Atreus on the bed while Heimdall still kept his hand on his chest. Freya approached them briskly. “You said you already have the heart? Give it to me.” Kratos looked to Heimdall for a moment, then took the heart, wrapped in stained cloth, and offered it to Freya, who took it without any hint of hesitation, unwrapping it and already moving away to a worktable. She threw a look back over her shoulder and frowned.
“Stop, Heimdall. You’re starting to give too much.”
“But Atreus-”
“He will not get worse in the few minutes this will take. But you are already drawing on more than magic.”
Kratos' sharp gaze swung from watching Freya work back to Heimdall, who was avoiding his gaze as he slowly pulled his hand back from Atreus’ chest only to cup his cheek in his palm, thumb gently stroking his cheekbone.
He met Kratos’ gaze seriously. “He’s strong. Don’t be afraid, Lady Freya will make sure he gets better.”
“I can stop this temporarily, yes, but I’m only treating the symptom. You have to get rid of the cause.”
She wasn’t looking at Kratos as she spoke, but he felt the unimpressed glare nonetheless.
“I will.”
“And you can make yourself useful in the meantime. Get some blankets, and one of the pillows. Heimdall should lie down.”
“Lady Frigg-”
“Don’t ‘Lady Frigg’ me, it will not work. You need rest, and some good food afterwards, just like the boy will. The father who has already taken much from you and is the cause of all this, can make sure both is prepared.”
Heimdall’s gaze sunk down to the floor, instinctively trying to hide the pleased flush and the shy smile from view, but it still lit up the room. Kratos found himself moving to do as Freya said without hesitation.
—
There were words, flowing into his awareness like a bubbling brook as Atreus woke slowly, feeling warm and tired and heavy.
They slowly morphed into coherency, and he recognized Father, and then Mimir. And then there was a voice he didn’t know, which confused him. For some reason, he had been sure he should hear Mardöll - Heimdall.
“- about him. Where does he live? Was he safe? Did he have a good place to rest?”
“Well, I didn’t get more than a few glimpses, my Lady, but it sure seemed like it? There was a barrier, too, so I’d say the lad’s pretty safe.”
“As the head says. He has a home, hidden in the woods.”
“You sure taught him a lot, if I may say so! Got me breathing again in no time, and no lasting harm done! Except the aftertaste of the petals he used.”
“He was always so curious…and so bright. The seidr came to him eagerly. Sometimes he had grasped something before I fully finished explaining it. So different from…it is no surprise to me that he could bring you back. Though I have no idea why he would do that.”
“Mn.”
The conversation was confusing, more so because Atreus had no idea where they were. The sounds drifting towards him were fully unknown, and he was not lying in his own bed.
It smelled like lavender and gentle roses and it reminded him of Mother so strongly he had to remind himself that she was gone so he didn’t turn around to bury his face into the pillow.
The conversation stopped, and then there was movement around him, quickly followed by a large, warm hand on his head.
“Atreus.”
“Father?” He opened his eyes, looking up into his father’s face, seeing a strange softening around his eyes before he noticed his surroundings more fully.
“Did I have another attack? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean -” He remembered all at once, trying to sit up and look more closely at Father.
“Modi! Are you hurt? Did he leave again?!”
“I am not hurt.”
“What happened? Did he run away again? It didn’t look good-”
“He will not trouble us again for a while.”
“Oh.” Atreus blinked, digesting that. “He said all these terrible things about Mother. I got so angry, and he was hurting you- I couldn’t even do anything. But I promise I’ll do better next time! I really will!”
“Atreus…”
“Ah, lad, it’s good to see you about again! It was awfully quiet with only your father around and fretting over you. Thought he would lose his beard, since he couldn’t lose his hair anymore, I really did!”
Mimir laughed, securely out of reach of Father’s wrath for now, then continued.
“Now, let me introduce-”
“I can state my own name, Mimir. Hello, Atreus. It is good to meet you at better health. My name is Freya.”
“Freya, like - like the Vanir queen?” Atreus asked, not able to take his eyes away from the tall woman sitting beside his bed. She was beautiful, almost as pretty as Heimdall, though she was much older.
“Just so, yes. But don’t worry. You and your Father brought Heimdall back to me, so you will never need to stand on formalities with me.”
Heimdall. Heimdall!
“Oh! Is he here? I could swear I heard him earlier…”
Freya’s face gentled further, her eyes filled with warmth as she turned her head to a bed close by.
“Yes, he is, but he’s sleeping right now. He did his best to bring you to me so I could help, and now he needs rest. He cares a lot for you.” Her gaze moved to Father with a weird look in her eyes for a moment, before it settled back on him and turned back into a smile.
“And so I do as well. You’re welcome here in Vanaheim, for now and always.”
Atreus nodded, still a bit confused, but it was a nice change of pace for them. Only Mar- Heimdall had been this nice before now; it made sense that someone he knew was as kind as he was.
“Can I help? Does he need anything?” The question made her smile widen even as she shook her head slightly.
“Just sleep, and later on some warm food, the same as you. You’ll both be right as rain in no time, don’t worry. Just focus on-”
“Sister dearest! I heard you’ve taken in a very large bald stray, a head and a boy? Oh, and some pretty stranger? I didn’t know we ran a shelter now - wooooah. Oh, they weren’t kidding. Hello, sweetling, where have you been all my life?”
A tall man burst into the room without announcing himself or knocking, moving like a whirlwind. He looked similar to Freya, though his hair was lighter. He was currently staring down at the bed where Freya had looked earlier - where Heimdall apparently slept.
The smile slipped from Freya’s face as quickly as a drop of rain, and she and Father stood at the same time. Father’s hand twitched, as if he wanted to grip his axe..
“Don’t even think about it, Freyr. Leave him alone.”
“Oh, come on, can you blame me? Hey, you’ve been talking about marrying me off, can I pick him? I wouldn’t mind waking up to that face for a few centuries.”
Next to Atreus, his father’s knuckles cracked as he clenched his fists, the chains wound around his arms clinking softly as the muscles tensed.
“Freyr. One more word and I will not hold Kratos back as he beats you into a pulp. Nor will I patch you up after.”
“Such cruelty towards your favorite brother, simply for appreciating beauty! You wound me, sister.” The man - Freyr - spoke teasingly, but he stepped away from the bed without much fuss.
“I give thanks every day that you are my only brother. Now show some manners, we have guests.”
“I was all ready to welcome - okay, okay, peace! I’ll contain my appreciation for this golden vision of beauty.”
Father growled.
Freyr’s eyes went from him to Heimdall, then back again. He took another step back, hands raised.
“I didn’t know there was a claim already, calm down. I’m not one to go after someone already taken.”
“He is not a trinket to be owned.” Father said lowly, not relaxing. Atreus saw Freya’s gaze soften as she looked at him, approval on her face, before she turned to Freyr, hands on her hips.
“If you wake him, I will make you sleep with the livestock.”
“What has you so protective over a pretty stranger?” Freyr asked, intrigued. He straightened, moving further away from Heimdall’s bed.
“He is…This is Heimdall.” Freya said after a moment of hesitation, and Freyr stopped mid step.
“This is - but, Odin said…”
“He lied. He…I don’t know what happened, but he lied.” She scoffed bitterly. “As he always does. I should have known-”
“How were you supposed to?” Freyr demanded, all his earlier foolishness gone. “Even if you had known for some reason, how would you have been able to find him?”
“He didn’t want to be found, he said. When we met him.” Atreus blurted out, drawing the attention of all three adults.
Freyr pointed at him triumphantly. “Listen to the kid!”
“He hid from Odin. And from you.” Father added, nodding at Atreus’ words, emboldening Atreus to elaborate further
“He thought you were angry with him…that you hated him.”
Freya’s eyes darkened with sadness, and she sank down into her seat again, nodding slowly.
“He told me. The thought that he spent all these years fearing me…that he thought he had to hide from me…”
Her face hardened. “Odin took two sons from me, and he will pay with his worthless life for that. More than that, whatever he did to Heimdall…there will be vengeance. Tenfold.”
“About that, my Lady…I am sorry to interrupt with yet more distressing news.” Mimir piped up , and Atreus startled, then looked towards a table nearby, where the head sat. He had forgotten he was there.
“What is it now?” Freyr sighed, but he moved closer to Freya and laid a hand on her shoulder. She reached up without looking and held on to it.
“We are hunted by order of Odin. By Baldr.” Father said when Mimir hesitated, and Atreus winced at the sharp sound of pain Freya made.
“My son…” she covered her mouth for a moment. “Why is he after you?”
“I do not know.”
“Not for anything good, that’s for certain.” Freyr muttered, giving a reassuring squeeze to Freya’s hand.
“We didn’t do anything! All we want is to bring Mother’s ashes to the top of the highest peak in all Realms. Heimdall helped us, but then Mimir told us the highest peak is in Jötunheim, not Midgard.”
“...and no one can reach Jötunheim.”
“Not entirely true, my Lady. I do know a way there; we were on our way actually. But there was a…complication.” Mimir’s gaze was kind, but Atreus still looked down into his lap, fingers clenching in the blanket.
“I’m sorry for getting sick again, Father.”
Father looked at him, then took a slow step closer, sitting down on the bed next to him. Atreus almost startled when his large hand, always so warm, gently cupped the side of his face.
“Your illness is not your fault. I have…I carry the responsibility for that.” He looked towards Freya and Freyr for a moment, and Freya nodded mutely, standing up. “We will leave you to it. This is a private matter.”
Freyr opened his mouth as if he wanted to complain, looked at Kratos, and shut it with an audible click, following Freya out of the room without further argument.
Atreus shifted, sitting up straight. He could tell this was going to be a serious talk, and he wanted to show his father he was ready, and would listen earnestly.
Even if his stomach twisted with nerves.
—
In hindsight, Kratos was thankful for Freya’s insistence. Working, even if the tasks were trivial, helped not to think about how frail Atreus looked, even as his breathing evened and color slowly returned to his skin as he rested.
It also made it easier not to look at Heimdall; the bruise-dark rings of exhaustion under his eyes, and his own pallor, drove home the fact that he was responsible for his son to still draw breath in the first place.
At the expense of his own wellbeing, and despite their parting beforehand. He hadn’t even hesitated once he realized it was about Atreus.
Kratos had never met a god like him before. Even Freya, though she had helped, had mostly done so because of Heimdall’s presence.
He could still feel the echo of the younger god’s lips on his forehead.
Once Freya finished, and he had nothing more to do, she sat him down and started to probe him - Mimir, always willing to hear his own voice, answered her readily.
As always, Kratos knew the moment his son was awake. The relief at the sound of his voice was enough to finally untense his shoulders, even though it didn’t last long as the loud fool swept into the room, honing in on Heimdall’s sleeping, vulnerable form like a bloodhound.
How this one could be related to Freya, he had no idea.
But that was not important now; Fates willing they’d soon turn their backs on this sweltering Realm and never have to see the Vanir god again.
Right now though, there was one matter more important than all else.
When they were alone - except for Mimir and the still sleeping Heimdall - Kratos searched for the right words.
He would do this right, he owed that to Atreus. His cowardice had brought suffering to his son, and he would never forgive himself for that. It was yet another way he had brought pain to those he called family. It seemed that was all he ever did.
“Father?”
Kratos exhaled slowly.
“I have not told you the entire truth.” Atreus blinked at him, curious but unsurprised. He had always been bright, understanding more than anyone ever thought he did. He’d often reminded Kratos of Pandora in that way; another child whose blood was on his hands.
“I am from a place far away from here, called Greece…where I ruled as the God of War.”
His son was silent, though his mouth dropped open in shock. Thoughts swirled behind his eyes.
“I am a god. And you are as well.”
“...I’m…a god?” Atreus blinked, opened his mouth and then closed it again, blinking a few more times before he looked up at Kratos.
“Was Mother a god too?”
“No, she was mortal, though that had no bearing on her strength and wisdom.” His son nodded, still grappling with the revelation of his heritage,
“Why’d you never tell me?”
“I wanted to spare you.”
“Spare…what do you mean?”
“Being a god is dangerous.”
“ I don’t understand.”
“You will.”
Atreus nodded, unconvinced. He chewed his lip for a long moment, then brightened. “So does that mean I can turn into an animal if I want? Or do other amazing things, like Heimdall?”
“I…do not know.”
“Your powers will mature and emerge as you grow, Atreus.” Suddenly sounded from the bed nearby, and they both turned to see Heimdall slowly sit up, rubbing his eyes.
“Heimdall!” Atreus exclaimed happily, making as if to scoot out of bed. Kratos held him back with a hand on his chest, ignoring his son’s pout.
“It’s good to see you awake again, lad!” Mimir spoke next, and Heimdall looked around the room before his eyes landed on Kratos’ before moving away quickly.
“Yes, I…I was quite tired.” He smiled at Atreus, getting out of bed and walking over to them. Atreus slid back immediately to make place for him, and Heimdall hesitated a moment before settling on the edge of the bed, leaving Atreus between the two of them.
“So I might be able to turn into something amazing when I’m bigger?”
“It’s not something I can say for sure. It is said that growing gods develop powers that fit them. Their powers grow to match their souls, you could say.”
“Heimdall’s been an early bloomer in that regard, little brother, most likely because of his connection to the Bifröst.”
Heimdall nodded along to Mimir’s words, and smiled gently when Atreus let out a disappointed sigh.
“It wasn’t easy to learn to control them so young. I’d not wish that on you.” He smiled, tilting his head. The smile was, as it always was when turned to Atreus, gentle and bright. Mesmerizing.
“And you already have many skills and strengths, though, little one. Your skill with the bow is quite remarkable for someone your age. Not all of that is training. Train all you want, you either have an archer’s eye or you don’t.” He nudged him lightly, his smile turning teasing. “And you definitely didn’t get your smarts from your father.”
“Aye, your talent for languages is another thing! I’ve never seen someone absorb foreign tongues the way you do, lad.”
“Being a god doesn’t mean just being able to hit things really hard.” Heimdall nodded with a glance towards Kratos and a raised eyebrow, and Mimir snorted, but didn’t comment.
Kratos, feeling much too light, just made a noncommittal sound.
They sat in comfortable silence for a moment before Heimdall raised his head, looking towards the door several seconds before a knock sounded on the wood, biting his lip nervously and shifting so he was sitting straight. A hand smoothed over his hair as if to make himself presentable.
It was foolish; as if the Aesir could be anything but beautiful.
Kratos called out a short ’Enter!’ and Freya returned, alone luckily. She carried two large bowls, still steaming, smiled reflexively at Atreus before her eyes travelled to Heimdall and her whole face softened with love as she approached them.
“It is good to see you awake, dear one. You’re surely hungry.” It wasn’t quite a question, but Heimdall nodded nonetheless, almost reflexively.
“Lady Frigg…thank you so much for-”
“Thanks are not needed, nor wanted. As if I’d ever turn my back on someone close to you; you always had a place in my heart, Heimdall. I am just glad that it isn’t one of grief any longer.”
She smiled again as she handed both bowls over, one to Atreus and one to Heimdall, before glancing at Kratos with a look that clearly said he could fetch his own meal if he was hungry.
After she sat down, turned towards Heimdall like a flower to the sun, she reached out and gently tucked a lock of hair behind his ear, making him blush.
“Would you like for me to braid it for you later?”
“That would be kind of you, Lady Frigg.”
“I am no lady to you, Heimdall. You are a god - and a man - grown and we are equals.”
“I couldn’t…you’ve always been Lady Frigg for me. Or…” he broke off, taking a bite of his meal to avoid any curious gazes.
Kratos watched the two eat in silence, same as Freya, who was thankfully not someone who needed to fill every moment with chatter. They looked at each other from time to time, Freya meeting his gaze steadily, something unspoken in her gaze that Kratos knew would be addressed later.
But not now. In this moment, they were safe, his son and Heimdall were awake and rested, and peace filled the room like a hearthfire on a cold winter night.
In this moment, Kratos was content.
tbc
Notes:
Look man I will take my "Freya was Heimdall's surrogate mom" hc with me to the grave. You can't tell me all his resentment and anger towards her wasn't because Odin manipulated him into thinking she abandoned him and probably never loved him in the first place.
I hope you liked this chapter! I would adore a comment if you did.