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Chapter Text

He stared out into the light brush of snow, glaringly bright on the ground just outside the darkness in their cabin. He was getting tired of sitting around with nothing to do except listen to trees being chopped in half and Mimir's silence. He didn't want to be alone with his thoughts for any longer. Atreus fumbled with his fingers and huffed.

"I'm going hunting, I'll be out a while."

"Are you now?" He could hear his father's axe hack easily through a tree he'd felled. He'd been at it for a while. Fimbulwinter was rolling in, and with it came a sheer need for an ungodly amount of firewood.

"Yeah," Atreus pulled his bow from beneath his bed. "I think I'll be alright by myself."

"You're going alone?" Kratos stopped to meet Atreus's gaze. "You think you're ready for that?"

His father's words nicked at him and he paused.

"You're not planning on being out long are you?" Mimir asked from his spot on the work table, "The days are getting shorter lad."

"I know. I know, I'll be okay." He dug beneath the furs on his bed to grab for his knife, "if it makes you feel better, Father, I'll bring Mimir with me."

"What?" Mimir's eyebrows rose comically.

Kratos dug his axe into a log. "Are you bothering the head again, boy?"

"What? No," Atreus sputtered, "Mimir likes me! Right?"

Mimir laughed as Atreus looked back to his father, "Aye lad, a bit of company won't hurt either of us, I'm sure. And with an aim like yours, we won't be gone long at all."

His father gave him a warning look and waved him off, "Be back before night— and if you find trouble, you come home. Understood?"

"Yeah," Atreus muttered. He was secretly hoping for something or someone to burst from the underbrush. He just wanted something exciting to do, all they'd been doing the last few months was hide out in their cabin. He was tired of it.

"Understood."

~ᛃ~

When he finally found deer tracks he had to stop himself from letting out a whoop. The forest was growing quiet these months as the snow rolled in unexpectedly. Animals were scarce and people even scarcer. His mind wandered to Baldur, to the winter and Freya and Ragnarök—

"Aye brother, you alright?"

"Yeah-" he swiped at his face. It burned from the cold but luckily the winds this far into the forest were less aggressive. "Yeah I'm okay, Mimir."

Atreus pulled his bow over his head and stalked quickly in the tracks' direction. The deep silence of the forest was crushing and strange. The only noise beside crunching snow and his own breaths was the wind through the trees.

"Hey Mimir, do you think Ragnarök really is coming?"

The head hummed from his spot at Atreus' side, "So that's what's been on your mind, brother. I’m afraid I do. Snow isn't supposed to fall this long into the year. What moon is this?"

"Haustmánuðr,” Atreus huffed. “I think, anyway.”

Mimir scoffed, “Spring and autumn should have passed by now.”

Atreus grunted low in his throat and crept up to a jagged outcropping of rock. Finally, his deer was in sight. He could hear it’s thick breaths and the flap of its ears as it shook itself.

"Oh! Did you find one lad?" The head hissed. "Aim true."

He nocked an arrow and narrowed his eyes. He took a breath and waited for his hand to still.

"Möðir vísa mir," he mumbled the words under his breath.

His grip faltered as the ground shifted, shooting off on its own. It still met the deer's neck and sent it tumbling to the ground.

He looked to the sky, it was darkening with heavy storm clouds. He picked himself up with a new urgency. He was not in the mood to get caught in a thunder-snow.

Atreus took care of the deer quickly before standing over it, unsure of how to get it back home. He hadn't thought this far ahead and the sun was starting to sink lower in the sky. He gripped the deer's back legs and only got it a few feet back before dropping it.

"I think I'll need Father for this," he huffed.

The ground shook again and sent him to the dirt.

"Aye lad, be careful!"

Atreus pushed himself up and looked around quickly. Birds were taking off from their perches in the trees, heading past him. The shaking had to have been from the way he came. Light flashed across the sky and a clap of thunder shook the forest around him.

“No…” his eyes were stuck on the sky. On the lightning jumping between clouds that had formed much too quickly. “No, no, no-“

"Atreus?"

"Shh," he pulled his knife free and set back the way he came, as quickly and quietly as he could. Again, the path was empty, except for the tracks he'd left behind.

This can't be happening yet. It can't.

The ground rumbled with a new ferocity but he was too far to hear a fight. Atreus broke out into a sprint, running back through the Wildwoods. If it weren’t for the storm looming overhead, the adrenaline pushing him forward would have made him break into a mad grin. He had missed the rush of a battle.

Atreus was swept off his feet by a strike to his side. The boy went tumbling through the snow until he collided with a tree. He could hear Mimir saying something but he couldn't make it out past the ringing in his ears.

There was a man in hunting furs before him, but he didn't seem to be just a human. No, his armor glinting beneath was dwarven. His eyes widened as he recognized the familiar gleam of Asgardian steel.

“Aye, you must be the child,” he grunted.

Atreus pushed himself up and pulled his bow free from the snow. The god just laughed at him.

“Ooh, how scary. The little ás has a bow.”

“lad!” Mimir hissed, “That's Váli, Odin’s son.”

Atreus scowled, “What does Odin want?”

Váli stalked closer and the boy pushed himself back past the tree he'd splintered. Atreus’ eyes darted back to the woods. Sure he could run, be he doubted he could outrun a god twice his size. If he screamed, would his father hear him?

“Oh I think you know, boy, what I have come to do.”

Váli unsheathed his blade and leapt for him. Atreus rolled and popped back up. He nocked an arrow and stuck the god but he pulled it free. There was no blood on its tip as Váli tossed it aside. The god lunged toward him and Atreus barely managed a dodge.Anger grabbed at his throat and Atreus yelped as red bolts of electricity jumped over his arms. It couldn't have been from the bow that had leapt from his hands. It wasn't hot enough. The Æsir before him snarled.

“What a pathetic little god. Is this all you can do? Party tricks?”

Atreus panicked and scrambled for his bow. He nocked two arrows as quick as he could, glittering blue energy lit up their tips but Váli had gotten closer. He ripped the boy’s bow from his hands and whacked him across the face with it. The metal dragon tip left a gash on Atreus’ brow that pulsed white hot in his vision.

He stumbled back but before he could recover, there was a blade stuck awkwardly into his gut. Mimir yelped as Váli yanked his blade out and the boy tumbled down with it.

“I think I should leave you for the wolves,” Váli laughed, “they are quite common in these woods aren't they?”

Váli sent a swift kick into Atreus’ side, flipping him onto his back. The boy was quaking but not from the snow. He’d never been hit like this before. He’d been choked and thrown around but his father was always there before anything could really happen.

But this time Kratos was very, very far away.

When Baldur had stabbed him it had left his whole arm useless but this? The gash in his stomach left him twitching in the snow while a vengeful god stood over him.

“They must be hungry,” the god squatted to smile down at him.

“Fuck you…” Atreus growled.

The other god feigned a grimace as he bent to grab the boy. “If you cooperate, Loki, Odin might let you live.”

What?

Atreus scrambled back, fear taking over, as he reached for a stray arrow. It almost slipped from his grip as he was hoisted over Váli shoulder. The god grunted against Atreus’ kicking, but the boy stopped as he shifted him. Being jostled was enough to send pain arcing through his side.

“Ah, hello there Mimir. Long time no see?”

“Piss off,” The head growled, “whatever Odin wants-- the boy, he doesn't have it.”

Váli shrugged, earning another yelp from the boy.

“I thought you were the wisest man alive?”

Atreus hissed through his teeth and adjusted himself. He flipped his arrow around in his hand and shoved it through the back of the god’s throat. With a howl he dropped Atreus, who landed hard on his side. He growled and kicked Váli leg as hard as he could, sending him to the snow as well. While Vali floundered, Atreus kicked himself up and snatched up his bow and as many discarded arrows as he could. He sucked in a breath and tried to ignore his lightheadedness as he glared down at the other god. He wasn't worth killing, so he marched as far into the woods as he could before he collapsed.

~ᛗ~

Kratos eyed the sky wearily before looking to the god standing before him. The lightning still crackling around the clearing made him sneer.

“You must be Kratos, God of War, yes?"

"Who I am is none of your concern," he growled. "What do you want?"

"I just came to see what I was up against."

Kratos was careful to not let his eyes dodge to where he'd last see his son walk off to. Hadn't Atreus dreamt of this? This was nothing like how the boy explained it. The strange man before him frowned beneath his starkly red beard. This had to be Thor. The thought made him feel tired, he was in no mood for another adventure.

"Leave my home," he lodged his axe back into the log. "I have nothing you wish to see."

Thor dug into his cloak and pulled a book out from within it. A little leather bound journal with a gold hand print upon it. He tossed it to the ground.

Kratos stepped closer, nostrils flaring, "Where did you find that?”

Like Baldur, Kratos didn't seem to intimidate this god in the slightest. The old drunk had the gall to smile at him.

"Answer me!" He refused to let this Æsir god run him around in circles.

“The boy, he’s your son isn’t he?”

Kratos eyed him with thinly veiled fury. He took a step forward and the other god stepped back.

“My brother came for Laufey, but it turns out you were hiding someone much more important than her.”

“And like your brother, you will die,” Kratos hissed.

Thor let out a rumble of a laugh as he reached for his hammer, “He's a cute kid. Too bad his face is so fucked up--”

Kratos pushed himself forward before Thor could pull Mjölnir from it’s holster. He grappled the other god and slammed him against the singed dirt.

“Where is he, where have you hidden him?”

Thor smiled through the blood in his teeth, “Does it matter? The little runts dead wherever he is.”

The smile left the god’s face as sparks leapt up Kratos’ arms. He was certain in that moment that he would rip this man in two for even looking at his son.

Somehow, Thor managed to push the other flaming god off of him but he did not miss the shield that smashed into his face, or the haymaker that came after it.

“Laufey? You stuck your dick in that woman?” Thor laughed. “I thought you Greeks had some standards?”

The blow he struck with Mjölnir only sent Kratos back. It was nothing compared to the fear biting at his chest. The anger. He’d let Faye down again. He’d left Atreus alone again.

If the last little gift Faye has given me is dead...

He screamed as he threw himself at Thor. The thicker god was surprisingly nimble as he slid out of the way.

“And you gave her a child? A sick little thing that shouldn’t have lived? A Jötunn and a god aren’t meant to mix, you know.”

Thor aimed high with his hammer and stuck Kratos upside the head. It threw him off long enough for Thor to kick him back.

“I think we did the kid a favor—“

Kratos grabbed him by his throat and threw him into the felled stone guarding their home. It cracked even more beneath the force.

“You know nothing of my son.”

“I know what I need to, now,” the god groaned, “Asgard has killed the Trickster. Ragnarok has ended.”

Chapter Text

Atreus popped his head up out of the snow drift he'd be caught under. A cough bubbled out of him and with it came the blood that had dried in his throat.

“Mimir?” he croaked. Hours had passed by the looks of it. The moon was high up in the clouded sky. Luckly the storm had ended, leaving the woods cascaded with nothing more than a gentle breeze. “Mimir?”

“Aye lad, you’re squashing me.”

“Oh!”

Atreus eased himself onto his feet and dusted himself off. He dug his boot into the crimson stained snow as he pulled aside his coat. There was a tear in his tunic that was crusted to his stomach. Like where he’d been stabbed by Baldur, his skin had healed on its own into a knotted scar. Despite that, he still felt like Hel. 

Atreus pushed himself on weak legs back toward his home. It was strange that Vali had not followed him.

“You alright, m’son?”

“Yeah,” He wheezed, “yeah but I’m not sure my father is.”

The lightning from before danced over his fingers and caught his attention. Was he finally getting his god powers? The healing? The magic? The voices?  He realized suddenly that the woods were empty. He couldn't feel or hear a thing. That god had almost killed him— should have killed him, so what had Thor done to his father? He knew he should have looked through his mother’s books for a way to fix that protection stave.

He stopped when he finally reached the clearing around their little home. It was empty and his mother’s axe was still in its place, stabbed into a sliced open stump. The snow had melted and the dirt beneath was scorched. 

"Brother?" Mimir hissed from his belt strap, "something doesn't feel right."

"Yeah..."

There were two sets of massive tracks beside his own—his fathers and Thor’s no doubt— leading from the stump toward the path to Týr's temple.

"Why is this happening?" Atreus hissed. The silence returned and a feeling of dread had washed over him. The newfound eeriness of the forest did nothing but escalate it. 

Mimir hummed as Atreus let out a warbling breath. He was waiting for something to happen as he stared out into the snow. There was no way Thor had come so soon, his visions always felt so far away. 

Yet here he was in the woods that reeked of rain and wildfire. 

He forced his wobbling legs to carry him into his home and rummaged through the supplies they had. His father hadn't taken any of it, he had to have left in a rush.

"Aye, Atreus what are you doing, son?"

"Father's in trouble," he hissed as he snatched up some dried venison from their last hunt. "I've gotta go find him—"

"What are you going on about?"

Atreus shook his head out and checked the shelves: his father's blades were still there. 

"Thor was here," he breathed, "he— I can't just sit here alone while my father is out there defenseless, Mimir! All he has is his knife!"

"Oh, oh Atreus, I'm sure your father will be fine— Thor shouldn't be an issue for him and you're in no state to travel m’son.”

But Atreus was already outside trying to dislodge his father's axe from the stump it was wedged into. Its blade froze the tree's bark and allowed him to snap it off.

"Are you listening to me lad? I'm more worried about you!”

The boy grunted as he pushed himself under the debris from his father's first fight with Baldur. Kratos had cleared some of it but not all and whatever fight had happened only made it worse.

"You're really not gonna take no for an answer are you?"

"Nope," Atreus tightened his grip on the axe as he slid into the ravine. The path to Týr's temple was a good few hours of walking and nightfall had already arrived. He would have to stop along the way. 

His leg gave out when he landed and pain soared down it from the scar in his side. How was he supposed to do this on his own? Sure he had Mimir, but Mimir was just a head. The realization made him pause. He was alone again. Atreus didn't realize he was shaking until he tried to rub away the discomfort in his chest. 

"Brother? It's not too late to turn back."

His father was out there somewhere in Midgard and he had to follow. He was alone, but this was his chance to prove himself.

Atreus wiped his face on his sleeve and gritted his teeth. He let out an angry breath, "No, Mimir. I can do this."

By the time he'd reached the light elf gate, the moon was low in the sky and he was rightly exhausted. Carrying the leviathan around with his hands was proving tiresome and jumping around with a poorly healed stab wound did nothing to help. Tomorrow would be a mess, but for now he plopped himself down beside the gate and sat Mimir beside him.

"You're not cold lad?"

Atreus dusted snow off his furs, "Now that I think about it, not really."

"Huh," the head laughed, "I guess you're finally growing into that frost giant heritage."

"Mother was a frost giant?"

"Well, why else would she have a frost axe? I'm sure with her own power she could make that thing hit hard." 

"So... I'm a frost giant." 

His mind wandered back to Thor. Thor and his slaughter of the Jötnar.

"Do you think Thor knows that?" He couldn't help the bitterness and fear in his voice. 

"Well, I don't know why he would, lad."

Atreus hummed. 

"Do you have any stories about her— my mother, I mean?"

 ~ᛃ~

“Atreus? Do you remember that story I told you?”

He leaned back against his mother’s arms, expectant. He hadn’t seen such a smile on her face in quite some time. 

“The one about Loki? The little giant?” Her voice was quiet and mischievous. 

He could hear his father grunt from his place by the fire. If Atreus squinted hard enough, he could swear there was a smile on his face. 

“Well,” Faye huffed as she played with her son’s hand, “he was a great warrior—“

Atreus watched his father hack at the little piece of wood in his hand. It was chaotic but intentional. His gaze darted to the floor as Kratos rose his head to look at his wife. She was still prattling on about Jötnar and Æsir and the like, but for some reason Atreus didn’t quite care to listen. 

He seemed to get lost in his head a lot these days. Faye didn’t say much of it, she would just smile and ask him if she was saying too much or too little.

“—And the god Baldur, lunges for him!”

Her free hand grabbed at his ear and he laughed, pulling him back into the present, or what felt like the present. His smile for once was met by the one his father tried to hide. 

“The brave little giant gets swept off his feet, but alas. Baldur’s spell is broken!”

"By what?” His voice didn’t sound right in his ears. 

“Who’s to say,” Faye shrugs, “I wasn’t there to see it!”

“But you know everything!” Atreus wined, “how can you not know what breaks the spell! And how can it be broken if he’s still invincible?”

Her blue eyes lit up as she quirked her eyebrows, “the stories of the gods are strange, are they not?”

She laughed as he threw up his hands. 

“No one is invincible,” his father rumbled, “the gods are no exception, boy.” The tone of his words were oddly playful. “And do not expect them to be.”

“Right,” Atreus huffed. 

“Now, now, now! Where was I in that story?”

“Loki breaks the spell?”

Faye gasps, “yes! Yes. The two gods break into a ferocious fight!”

“But I thought Loki was a giant?“

His mother shushed him, “he’s both—“

“You can do that?”

“Yes, my son, you can be both. Now— Loki, a master archer delivers a blow that knocks Baldur off his feet—“

Again something pulled at his attention and the smile on his face fell. It was a voice this time. Faye paused her story as Atreus slid himself out of her arms and off her bed. Everything in him screamed not to move, but he did so anyway.

“Atreus?” His father asked.

The boy barely spared him a glance and stepped around the hand that snaked to grab him. He pushed himself toward the door and when he opened it, the wind and the snow rushed in and quenched the light within his home. When Atreus turned to ask for his mother, he found the cabin empty. 

“Mom?” He pulled aside the furs on her bed. Nothing. Even his father was gone with no sign of ever having been there. 

“Father!” He hated the way his voice cracked in fear, “Father please!”

Atreus was alone again.

The breaths in his lungs hitched. None of this was right.

He darted out of his home and stumbled to his knees in the snow. 

“Loki?”

The voice from before was back. Taunting him. 

“That’s your name, isn’t it boy?”

He reached for his knife, his bow, anything and found that he was in nothing but his tunic and trousers. Even the mottled old wrap he wore around his middle was gone. 

“You’ve grown to be quite the hassle, little giant.”

The name held none of the love from his mother’s mouth. It was all spite and cruelty. Atreus felt the ground beneath him crack and groan as he stood.

“Don't call me that!” he howled as he packed snow into his hand.

He waited for someone to pass through the eye of the storm, but nothing came closer. Atreus’ breaths were started to catch in his throat. 

“Thor please! He is just a child!”

Freya?  He squinted but still, he could see nothing through the icy wind whipping around him.

"I would like to see you raise your blade against me, Frigg-"

Someone pushed him to the snow and his eyes shot open.

Atreus didn't know what was happening at first. His chest was spasming from a blow that never really hit him. He was crying and choking on air.

"Aye brother, breathe— what's got you so jittered boy?"

He gulped down a breath that did nothing to help him, so he wheezed down another and another until he could somewhat talk again. "Where am I?"

Mimir gave him a rather nervous look before his eyes darted away. Atreus followed his gaze up to the serene elf statues. 

"Oh." Atreus gasped and had to stop a flurry of coughs building in his chest. It did nothing but make his heart pound even faster against his throat. 

"Atreus!" Mimir scolded, "didn't I tell you to breathe lad?"

The boy nodded and leaned back against the cold dirt beneath him. He could barely feel it. He wasn't sure if he was shivering from the cold or the fear building up in his chest. Nothing but a nightmare. No man, no storm, no darkness. Regardless, he was shaking by the time he got his lungs working right and proper again. 

"Are you gonna be alright, lad? You were having a fit.”

Atreus nodded and pulled himself up. He didn't feel awake till then and there, until he could feel the dirt beneath his fingers.

“I-- I thought I was home,” he whispered. 

“I see that. D’you need a moment?”

Atreus eyed the clearing for draugr, for anything. He hadn't felt like that in a very long time. Had a dream set that off? Nothing but a dream? The thought made him feel childish and he couldn't help the angry flush that came to his face. Maybe-

No. Atreus shook his head and pushed his thoughts away. He had more to worry about than silly dreams. He quickly grabbed Mimir and tied him to his belt. Luckily, the throbbing pain in his side had stopped. He hadn't even noticed.

"Is this okay?"

"I'd nod but I don't have a neck, lad.”

The smallest smile came to the boy's face. His eyes settled on the axe and it immediately fell. He sighed, hauled the massive thing off the ground, and set back out for Tyr’s temple. His head still felt foggy as it replayed the same image of his nightmare over and over. Could he even call it that?

He was so lost beneath the thoughts bellowing in his mind that he couldn't hear the story Mimir had started. That was, until he tumbled down a step that was a bit steeper than he'd expected. He howled as the axe went skidding across the stone. 

" Dammit," Atreus growled and ran his hands over his face to try and wake himself up. None of that had been real anyway he needed to just get up and get moving. 

"Atreus?"

"I'm fine, this dumb rock just… got in my way."

Mimir hummed to himself as Atreus pushed himself onto his knees. He recognized this place. He’d been here almost a year ago and had since then found ways to avoid it. However, his axe had spun its way into the center of these ruins. The humans and hel-walkers were long gone, but his axe had attracted a new threat. A tatzelwurm was inspecting it with it's odd snout. A revenant was not far behind it.

Close your heart to it.

He had to close his eyes and suck in a breath. He could still feel the way his father had held him. How childish and small and scared he’d felt. He could still remember the weight of his knife in his hand.

Atreus shook himself. He needed to focus on now. He stood and drew an arrow as quiet as he could. He took a breath and released. He caught the tatzelwurm in the neck but the revenant screeched as she saw him. His victory was short-lived. 

Atreus sighed and narrowed his eyes. He always hated fighting these things.   

Their poison was easy enough to dodge, but they were fast and constantly delivered unexpected blows. This revenant however, was dispatched quickly with an arrow through her mask. What it hit? He wasn't sure, all that mattered was that she fell. 

"Aye, fast and efficient," Mimir huffed. "Wonderful." 

Atreus stood over the Leviathan. He wanted his father here to berate him. To tell him to put the blade down and never touch it again, but Kratos' voice was nowhere to be found but in his head.

Chapter Text

She took in a breath, huffed it out and sucked in another. The runestones in her palm were warm with magic as she passed them between her hands. When she tossed them to the floor, she frowned.

"Berkana,” Freya huffed as she shifted, “reversed. And Ehwaz.... reversed .”

She eyed the last right facing rune with distrust.

“Raidho,” she sighed.

She juggled the runes in her hand, “so somethings coming then, trouble?”

Freya stood to pace. The paint along her stave was wearing thin from how often now she spent her days like this. She’d been weary of dusting off her runestones but the woods had been upsetting her lately. The grasses screamed of Thor’s return and the trees of something worse.

“Give me a name at least,” she hissed as she dragged her fingers over the stones. They crackled with Vanir magic. “A name is all I ask.”

When they settled upon the stave, she kneeled and narrowed her eyes. Written plane across the wood: ᚨᛏᚱᛖᚢᛋ

She faltered, at a complete loss of words.

“Atreus?” she asked no one. This could not be what the runes had meant. “Atreus!”

She shoved the runes aside. They’d never wronged her before but now she was very inclined not to believe them. She had been dreading another encounter with Kratos and his son. Atreus had done nothing to wrong her but his father? She could no longer stand his presence and did her best to avoid him.

But if something was to happen to the boy-- or worse yet, if he were about to do something irreparable...

Freya eyed her scattered runes. Tempted to test them again.

“What has happened?”

She tossed a single rune from her palm, not expecting a coherent answer. Kunaz the stone spat back at her. Loss.

Freya’s hand went to her mouth. That could mean anything . 

Silence settled once more over her home. Somehow, the fire billowing in the corner did nothing to warm her as she stared at her door. Something felt very wrong to her suddenly. 

She rushed to her door and peaked out just far enough for her face to fit through. She sighed deep in her throat. At the far end of the path leading from her door to her well, someone landed with a small thump. It would have been too dark for her to see had Atreus’ bowstring not glowed with the brilliance of the bifrost. He seemed well enough as he approached the more well lit center of the cave.

“Let's never do that again,” the boy’s hiss echoed in the vast space, reaching her easily. Freya shifted and slid out from behind her door.

“Agreed .”

She stopped. Mimir was with him, but not Kratos? 

Freya watched intently as he crept over to her lift as she herself made small steps to meet him. She wanted to warn him, but of what? What words could she say that would not turn him on him? Her runes lay heavy in her mind.

The words she wished for missed their chance. Regardless of the noise, Atreus had already started the lift. The boy seemed nervous, passing his knife between his fingers. Before he could turn and meet her gaze, she slunk back and watched him lower out of her sight.

The released the breath she'd been holding and slumped. She was Freya, queen of the Vanir, leader of the Valkyries, a warrior . So why now did she cower before nothing more than a child?

~ᛜ~

When he finally reached Brok’s shop, Atreus fell back against the temple door. Rowing himself and Mimir there had been more work than he had expected.

Brok came shuffling into view, hands on his hips and scrutiny in his gaze, “I've got another favor to ask ya, old man- oh .”

“Oh?” Atreus huffed, out of breath.

Brok waved him off and walked back to his work table as Atreus trudged closer.

"Sindri! Lookie who it is."

"Ah Atreus!" Sindri peaked around from his grindstone, "how've you been?"

The dwarves always managed to bring a smile to his lips, "Awful .”

Brok looked him over with a frown, "Aren't you cold, you little fart?"

He could hear Mimir grumble from his belt. 

"I think I'll be alright. Did my father come through here yesterday?"

Sindri stopped what he was doing and came closer, "I was wondering why something didn't look right. Did he take off without you?"

"So he was here!"

Brok was scratching at his beard, "Well, not here. We ran into him while he was out someplace... don't remember where though, but the big oaf looked like he was in a hurry, barely stopped to say hi."

"Really?" Atreus gnawed on his lip. Something was starting to flare up in his chest, it was familiar but he couldn't quite name it. 

"He didn't tell you he was leaving?" Sindri looked rather concerned as he crossed his arms. 

"And he just left you with the head?" Brok was frowning even deeper now as he walked off toward their furnace. 

"Aye! I have a name!"

Atreus had to hold the work table to keep himself standing upright. "You're certain you don't remember where he was headed? It's kind of important.”

"Ah, I'm not sure who else would have seen him beside the world serpent," Sindri said, " however , I'm not sure how you're gonna ask him—"

"I can speak snake," Atreus and Mimir butted in unison.

"Alright ," he drawled, "the kid can speak some old dead language. That's normal."

Atreus snorted, "He's a pretty nice snake once you get to know him."

"The kid's been sneaking out at night to go talk to 'im. It might not wake your father, but Jörmangandr is a rather loud talker."

"You knew, Mimir?"

Brok came back from where he'd been digging around and handed over a blue stone. It was light and warm in Atreus's palm. 

"You're giving me a travel stone?"

"Course I am, your big old dad probably took the other one." 

He hadn't thought about that.

“And don't pretend I don't see your mama's axe there, kid. Let me take a look at what you've done to ‘er.”

Sindri was startled as Atreus lifted the axe, wobbly in his hands and gave it to Brok, somehow the dwarf hadn't noticed it dangling from his hand. 

"You have anything to carry this from kid?" Brok narrowed his gaze to look the blade over. He frowned at the forever stained wood of it's shaft. "It's a bit heavy for ya innit?"

"I don't, actually. Couldn't find one."

"Hmph, you might be here awhile kid." Brok eyed Atreus’ furs. “Why don't you go down to the water, wash yourself up, and we’ll get you some new gear. You're getting blood all over your quiver.”

Sindri finally noticed the red still caking the boy’s tunic and yelped. Rather bravely, in Atreus’ eyes, the dwarf came around and hurriedly pushed him toward the temple entrance, “ please tell me that isn't someone else's.”

“You'd rather it be Atreus’?” Mimir squawked.

Sindri startled and quickly let go. “Oh, heavens no-- ah, just get it off will you? Please?” he huffed as he shooed the boy out of the temple.

“You're a fuckin’ mess, you know that?”

“Oh quiet you,” Sindri hissed. “That couldn't be healthy.”