This was it...the last sleep. He had a good life. Had made a better life for his village and his people. He expected to see his dragon and his wife again.
He found himself in a warm place that pulsed occasionally. There was an odd drumming sound that comforted him, along with the occasional humming.
He could stay there forever, it was so peaceful. Then he felt something push against his body. It was not so comforting. In fact it felt unpleasant. That pushing got worse, and the only real indication things had not gone as he had assumed was the sound of an infant wailing their lungs out.
It took him several moments to register he was that infant, and that instead of being sent to the afterlife he had been reborn.
Hiccup Haddock was not happy about this, at all.
For the next several months he had to deal with the indignity of being breast fed, and slowly learning his new predicament.
At least the language was identical to what he was already used to. His father though... he felt more distant than Stoick ever had, if that was possible.
The newly named Atreus, which didn't sound the least bit viking like and only made his suspicions of his father's origins not being from these lands stronger, cataloged everything. Even as his body was being wracked with a mysterious sickness.
For years, Atreus kept track of the little things.
His mother seemed to hold a mysterious power, and he made a point to read the few books she had in the home. He had picked up the familiar language of his people very quickly, and he had always been a bright lad. His mother certainly didn't mind and even brought back new books for him to read, when they weren't out hunting and gathering.
His father... Kratos was many things, but empathetic was not one of them. Atreus had seen it before...vikings who just got so battle-hardened that the idea of empathy had more or less died, leaving only loyalty and duty behind. They were often the most ferocious, most dangerous of vikings to face because it took a miracle for them to be put down.
Hiccup, when he became chief, had always taken this into consideration and made a point to let them know that he was not going to force them to socialize. He would let them live their lives in peace and interact with the village on their own terms.
While most of them had looked askance at him growing up as a nuisance, they had at least respected him as a chief and fellow warrior...even if they were some of the least pleased about the new 'pets' the village had acquired after he killed the Red Death.
After a while they at least acknowledged his bond with Toothless as a bond of blood brothers, and had reluctantly tolerated the dragon's almost permanent presence with their leader.
Kratos felt worn and tired...like old leather stretched too thin and hanging on by the thinnest of margins. It was clear he had seen and experienced far too much. His skin was unnaturally pale, and there was a hardness in his eyes that would have terrified Atreus to the core if he hadn't also seen the quiet protection of his father towards him.
Kratos was not an easy person to get along with, and he had accepted that fact long ago.
And then that tentative truce between them came crashing down. Not because of his unusual sickness, of which he could find no reason for beyond the fact that it seemed to revolve around an unknown power he had noticed...but because his mother Faye died.
Kratos went from silent and pensive to something closer to a stone statue that moved and occasionally spoke.
Atreus did his best to stay silent, openly grieving the loss of his mother. He was a bit surprised that Kratos instructed him to follow as they would hunt for their dinner, but did not argue. It was the first time Kratos had gone out of his way to interact with him at all. He still kicked himself for grabbing his mother's dagger like that...he knew better than anyone how hot metal could get when it was in a fire for too long.
An almost indescribable rage came over him after killing the troll...he reigned himself in.
He knew all too well what could happen when someone acted rashly, and something told him Kratos would not appreciate it. A cold, calculating look passed by his father's face, but there wasn't a hint of approval.
It made him feel more alone than ever. He missed his old village, his new mother. More than anything he missed Toothless.
And then it happened. No one had ever visited their home before, and something told Atreus this was someone he did not want to meet under any circumstances.
He hid in the crawl space as he was ordered, calling upon his experiences as Hiccup to stay calm. Even though he was terrified out of his mind from the sounds of a rather nasty fight outside, the sound of that strange man who accosted their home so soon after his mother's death was above him, he retained as much of his senses as he could.
Through the limited light, Atreus' eyes sharpened...it was a last gift from Toothless... the heart of a Dragon. It was an extremely rare gift, only to be given to the most trusted and beloved partners.
Surprisingly it had followed him into his new life, which he was grateful for it as it gave him certain...abilities.
Though his throat was unused to the activity, he was able to map out the small storage space enough to note there was an oddly shaped package hidden inside. Possibly the real reason Kratos had strictly forbidden him from ever looking or going inside.
He stretched out his senses, as he felt confident that the battle outside would hide what he was doing. Anything to distract him from the possibility of the stranger winning.
His nose smelled metal, but it was old. Very old. There were strange oils, and the distinct scent of his new father on the metal. His instincts told him that this was a weapon...not one that would ever be suited to him. It felt like war, death, fire, rage, chaos...all manner of things that he wanted nothing to do with.
When Kratos pulled back the rug, Atreus caught sight of something else odd.
Strange symbols were on the wrapped box...he couldn't really make them out, but he did recognize at least one. And it wasn't the familiar runes he had grown up with.
He had only seen it once, mostly from some traders from a distant land he had heard the barest of rumors about. They had spoken of a soldier who had been betrayed by their native god of war, and had taken his place in revenge.
It had been so long that Atreus couldn't rightly remember what the soldier's name was, just that he had been a terrifying berserker that wiped out any enemy in his path. Considering how rarely those particular traders had come to the village, he really didn't know much about the man at all.
Atreus could only feel cold shock as his father announced they would be leaving home to fulfill mother's last wish.
Somehow he knew instinctively this journey would not be an easy one.
Kratos had never spent much time around his son. Too many painful memories, and the ever present rage that needed to be tempered before he could trust himself around his progeny.
However with Faye's death, distance was no longer an option.
Atreus was...different. The boy was quiet, thoughtful, and had a rare degree of intelligence. Unlike Kratos, he thought his actions through before acting, and his eyes saw far more than he let on.
Atreus was taken aback by the draugr, but there was something about the way the boy fought. His eyes instinctively scanned the area, as if looking for something. There was a slight disappointment, one Kratos doubted the boy even realized was there, when he failed to locate it.
If Kratos had to put it into words, it was as if his son was trying to locate an unspoken support to help him fight. He had seen it many times before in his homeland, particularly in the service of Ares.
Men who bonded so strongly that they became closer than blood itself, to the point they did not even need words to subconsciously account for the other's presence in the thickest of battles. An unspoken bond that even the gods would be unable to fully break.
Kratos wondered who it was his son was looking for. While the boy had been close to Faye, this did not feel like the bond of a mother and child.
The two made their way to the mountain. Atreus doing his best to support his father, though it was painfully obvious neither of them knew how to act around the other. His son gave him a silent, distant support while never really attempting to bond with him. Kratos, too tired and used to being alone, could not find a good way to interact with his son after all the failures he had made in his life. It was...difficult.
The expression on his son's face after taking a life is painful, to say the least. The boy is too young, too innocent. Kratos has killed so many he can no longer remember what it was like to feel anything after killing a man.
The moment passes, and they head forward.
Kratos continues to observe his son...and noticed that Atreus would make odd crooning sounds occasionally.
Atreus' ears would twitch slightly, as if to catch the sound again, his eyes looking for something that was missing.
He had to wonder if it was something he had inherited from Faye, or if it was his own blood coming into play.
As they sat down for their meal, Atreus perked up for a moment. He became silent, as he looked towards one of the nearby bushes. He made the odd crooning sound again, and Kratos observed as his son caught every little movement with his eyes. They seemed to almost glow in the limited fire he would permit.
Kratos watched as his son slowly drew his bow...and fired into the bushes with limited warning. There was the sound of an animal's last breath.
He walks over to where his son fired the arrow...imagine his surprise that Atreus had killed a rabbit without seeing it, let alone any real sign one was there.
He brought the rabbit back. The kill wasn't as clean as normal, but the fact that Atreus had killed the rabbit without looking was more than enough to offset it.
"How did you know it was there?"
"I could see it...except with my ears."
"Those sounds you make...you use them to see?"
Atreus nodded slowly.
"The sound bounces back, and I see the outline."
Kratos blinked. That was an unusual gift, but considering his son couldn't have seen the rabbit with his eyes, it made some sense.
From then on he kept an eye on his son whenever he crooned. Atreus showed an even better range now that his father unspoken approval of the practice.
"Boy...how far can you 'see' with your ears?" asked Kratos.
"I think I could get more range if I was louder, but that would also alert anything in the area."
Kratos eyed where they were. He could not sense any enemies present.
"Boy. Show me how far your range is with that trick of yours," said Kratos.
Atreus looked at his father in surprise. If this had been Stoick, he would have told him to keep the trick quiet.
So, taking a deep breath Atreus let out the loudest call he could think of without damaging his throat. The sound was tremendous, almost on par with what Toothless could produce. It was as if the sound amplified the moment it hit the air. For a moment, nothing happened, then Atreus perked up.
"There's at least ten draugr in that direction, four deer that way, and an opening that way," said Atreus with confidence.
Kratos found a tree of sufficient height and strength and climbed it for a moment. He found Atreus was correct. The deer were spooked from the noise, the draugr were searching around for the source, and there was a cave opening across a gulley where a man was trying (and failing) to push an animal across a bridge. He looked rather cross with the animal and looking around for the source of the sound.
He came down with surprising speed and Atreus looked at him expectantly.
"Boy. If you notice anything else with that trick of yours, alert me immediately," he said.
The two made their way past the draugr, and Atreus managed to take down the smallest deer which added to their supplies.
Thirty minutes later they came across the man and beast Kratos had spotted.
Atreus didn't know why, but he knew the beast was worried about the ravens in a tree nearby. So naturally he told his father, who threw his ax at the tree in question, scattering the birds.
While the dwarf Brok looked at his father's ax, Atreus was looking at the man's wares. He immediately gravitated towards a shield that looked about right for his size. The swords were all too large for him, and he had never been very good at using them.
Besides, he didn't think his father would be impressed with him trying to regain the lost muscle memory needed to wield a sword, when he was already proficient with a bow.
Kratos noticed his son's eyes lingering a bit too long on the shields. They were acceptable, at best.
"The shields. How much are they?" asked Kratos.
"These pieces of shit?" said Brok. "They're just something I made out of boredom."
Kratos looked at his son. An unspoken question passed between them.
"Can I look at them?" asked Atreus.
"Knock yourself out, you little shit," said Brok dismissively.
Atreus looked at the shields with a rather professional eye. He had been a blacksmith in his past life, so he knew quality. Most of the shields Brok had were good, but not to his standard. If his father was willing to let him pick one out, he wanted something that would suit him.
He was about to give up and accept a lesser shield when he spotted it.
"What's this?" asked Atreus. It looked close to his own work, but there were a few flaws.
"That? That's some piece of shit mess my brother made before he left," said Brok. "Stupid thing never did work."
It took Atreus a few seconds to figure out why. Some of the mechanisms were in the wrong place, likely having been jarred by the dwarf's rough handling, and there were a few that were a tad too big.
Without even thinking twice about it, Atreus picked the shield up and held it on his alternate hand, as his dominate was used to fire his arrows. It had the right weight to it and with a bit of adjustment it would suit him perfectly.
Kratos could tell his son had picked his shield.
"How much?" asked Kratos.
"Twenty hack silver...the thing's useless," said Brok.
"Fifteen," said Kratos.
"You trying to bleed me dry you bastard? I won't go less than seventeen," said Brok.
Atreus, while the two were arguing over price managed to locate the gears and items he would need to do a quick repair of the shield.
"Hey Brok, can I borrow these for a moment?" asked Atreus. Kratos had already settled on the shield.
"Go ahead you little shit. That's mostly my brother's crap anyway," said Brok.
Atreus went to work and within five minutes the shield was fixed and good as new. Brok had a mildly surprised look on his face seeing how easily the kid had fixed the shield and how familiar he was with the tools of a forge.
But not as surprised as seeing the shield suddenly open up and shoot a weapon out at the draugr that showed up, causing it to trip and hit it's head so hard on the rock that it split open.
He wasn't the only one surprised. Kratos eyed his son's new shield with a calculating expression.
Seeing his son easily deflect a draugr's attack with his new shield made Kratos pleased. At least his son hadn't picked the item on a whim.