KRATOS
The forest grew still and the uneasy silence stretched out between Faye and Kratos. Battered and bloody, Faye was looking between Kratos and the frost axe. Something between betrayal and surprise crossed her face.
"That was…" she searched for the words, clearly still stunned that he was able to command her axe. Kratos stalked forward to Faye and stopped just as he came to tower over her.
"That was reckless." He glowered.
"Unexpected is what I was going to say," Her voice was ragged. "But I knew you would come." She kept her wary eyes on the axe as she tucked the reaver's dagger into her belt.
Distantly, Kratos was aware of the approach of horses. He didn't care. If there were more reavers he would deal with them. Right now he wanted to shake sense into Faye until her skull rattled with reason. He wasn't sure what he would have done if she had gotten herself killed. How would he find his blades then? She said she had hidden them with magic, they could have been lost to him forever. He couldn't let them go yet. Part of him still clung to their power, and the sense of wholeness he felt when they were held in his grip. He hated the way they made him feel but all the same he craved it.
"You are not dying until you fulfill your part of the bargain," Kratos reminded Faye.
"Is that all?" Faye pressed. Kratos ignored her.
He shifted his attention to the approaching horses. Readying himself for an attack, Kratos could feel the power of the axe coursing through him. Like an invisible tether that connected from the handle through his hand, arm, and straight to his heart. Except the riders were not reavers, but the very family Faye had helped to escape. Kratos was bewildered as to why they would return when freedom was in reach.
The riders slowed as they neared Kratos and Faye. One of the young girls strode forward.
"You're alive!" she said to Faye, "I made them come back for you. But it looks like you didn't need our help."
"You should have kept riding," Kratos grumbled, lowering the axe to his side. The family regarded Kratos for a moment, looking between him and Faye. A look of equal shock and intrigue. As if Kratos didn't need reminding how much of an outsider he was.
"We have to give my son a proper burial. His ashes should mix with his ancestors," the old man said to Kratos. The god gave a bitter nod.
He could understand that sentiment at least, but the rest of it? The senseless sacrifice, the recklessness, the useless heroics. Kratos looked to Faye. She was recovering from the fight. She inhaled deep and spat a wad of blood, catching her breath.
This family wasn't anything to her, so why did it matter whether they lived or not? If only to live another day and fall into the clutches of some other threat. That's all humanity was. Just an endless crucible of violence. It was the natural order of things.
"We can't possibly repay the debt we owe you but please come back to our camp, we can't offer much but we have gold," said the mother of the girls.
"We have no need for gold," said Kratos, he stepped back but Faye held out her arm to stop him.
"Resources then? Please allow us this honor," said the old man. Faye raised a brow at Kratos, an impish smile on her lips. It was infuriating.
"Who are we to deny them?" she said to Kratos with a shrug. "We accept the offer."
The family seemed pleased enough. The mother and grandfather swung down from their horses and searched for the body of their kin. They bundled him in canvas and secured the funeral shroud with ropes for the journey. Faye helped where she could, wincing through the pain as they heaved the body onto the canvas. When they were ready, the family guided their horses around and led the way south.
Kratos trudged beside Faye, thoroughly unamused.
"You test my patience." His voice was thick with a layer of rage.
She had used him, made him fight for her like he was her dog. Like Ares had done. It stuck a raw nerve in Kratos that brought back waves of memories that did not wish to remember.
"As it stands we will not have enough food to last the winter, do you want to starve?" Faye countered.
His jaw tightened. She was right. The logistics of living through the winter would require more supplies than what Faye had. It was late in the season and animals were growing scarce as the cold set in. They had enough for a couple months before they'd have to cut rations significantly. That'd buy some time but it would just be a slow death. Kratos had seen first hand what starvation would do to desperate troops. It was a grim and ugly fate.
Given different circumstances, Kratos might have even been relieved a little. If he hadn't just been made to fight a battle that wasn't his. It wasn't just Faye's blatant disregard for her own safety that enraged Kratos. But it was the casual way she had just assumed that he would fight for her. Without cause, without reason. He did not want to be someone's soldier. But Faye had all the leverage. She had his blades. Maybe if he were a stronger man he could leave them behind and be glad to be rid of them.
But he wasn't the man he wanted to be. Wasn't even a man at all. God of War. Ghost of Sparta. Oathbreaker.
Wife-killer, his mind echoed. Child Slayer.
Athena's words came to him again.
You'llnever change what you are.
Her terrible benediction reverberated through him. He repeated her words over and over again as he trailed behind Faye toward the family's camp. The hunter would not find what she was looking for when she searched his eyes. Even his ashen skin felt like a thin facade to his true nature.
A monster, Athena's voice said.
It was always there lurking beneath the surface, waiting for any excuse to show its face. Kratos hadn't killed another human since he left Greece. He had tried to avoid it at all costs by avoiding confrontation when he could. But when it was unavoidable - Kratos knew when to exercise restraint. He didn't want to awaken that dark thing inside him again. It was that resistance that stopped him from killing the hunter when he had the chance. But today Faye had given him no other choice. They would have killed her or at worst make her suffer horrible indignities that Kratos wouldn't wish on his worst of enemies.
I had no choice. But Kratos knew better than to lie to himself. No matter how he justified his action, he had still felt that familiar pulse of bloodlust. Whatever greater powers were at work, fate or destiny, they always found a way to awaken the monster inside him.
FAYE
Farbauti had grown despondent as the family led the way back to their camp. It was a meager settlement nestled in the bones of an abandoned Jotunn marketplace. Though, the humans wouldn't recognize it as such. There was no one left but Faye to have a living memory of places like this. A hundred years ago before Odin's desolation this market would have been teeming with all matter of merchants and tradespeople from across the nine realms. Selling their wares to gods and giants alike. It was a monument of unity and harmony among the different cultures. It made Faye's heart ache to see it now in such disrepair.
The massive stone pillars that held the ceiling aloft were covered in vines and moss as nature reclaimed the structure. The promenade rippled in a broken, uneven path with overgrowth of tree roots beneath. And the indoor plaza where the bazaar had once been now served as little more than a hideout for reavers at times or convenient dens for the various creatures of the forest.
There was a large roaring fire at the center of the plaza and around it were the other members of the clan. Tents were scattered across the space in clumps around smaller fires. It warmed Faye some to see the structure put to use again with tradespeople once again under its cavernous stone roof.
"There used to be more of us. Years of famine, pox, and vagabonds have taken their toll," The girl said to Faye. She swung down from her horse and introduced herself.
"My name is Frida." She gave Faye the warmest smile she could muster through the swelling in her jaw.
"Frida," Faye repeated. She was just at the edge of womanhood with a bright spark in her eye that reminded Faye of herself when she was young.
The family was greeted by their relieved kin. So many smiles and equally as many tears. They began settling inside the safety provided by the ruined marketplace and preparations began for the body.
"My deepest sorrows for your father's passing," Faye said and watched as they took his shrouded body from the horse. Frida cast a long look at the body as it made its procession through the camp.
"You and your companion should join us tonight for the funeral," Frida suggested.
"Tell me about him," Faye spoke, watching as Frida's mother tucked wild flowers into the bindings of the shroud. The girl should be thinking about her father's life, not dwelling on his gruesome death.
"He was a good man. An even better father. He left no regrets in this life," Frida said. Her pale green eyes had become glassy with tears. Faye put a hand on Frida's shoulder and offered her a comforting smile.
"Then I am proud to celebrate his life with you and your family tonight," Faye said.
Frida thanked Faye for her sentiments before joining her family for the funeral preparations. Faye was surprised to see Kratos joining a band of clansmen to chop birch wood for the pyre. The clansmen seemed glad for the help especially since Kratos could carry a far heavier load of timber than the rest of them. But still, they kept a wide berth around the god.
Faye approached a tall, distinguished looking woman with brittle white hair. Her dark apron was embroidered with intricate designs and decorated with many brooches and colorful beads. All indications that this woman was the elder of the clan. The elder regarded Faye with a respectful nod as she approached.
"You have done a great service to our clan today," she said, her voice willowy and thin. "I am Revna."
Faye returned the gesture of respect to the elder, dipping her head to the woman.
"Well met. I am Faye and my disgruntled companion over there is Farbauti." Faye winced, a bad step rattling her injuries.
"Please, rest," Revna said and invited Faye to join her by the fire. Faye was more than happy to oblige. It was nearing dusk and the days events had worn her thin. She eased herself down on a bench beside Revna, the ache in her body reaching through to her bones.
"What brings your people so far north?" Faye had thought merchants kept to the south.
"We make our living as trappers. But animals grow more scarce every year since the Devastation," Revna explained. The elder's eyes glossed over as lost in the memory.
"Do you remember?" Faye asked hesitantly. Many humans who sided with the Jotunnar met their end during the Devastation. Thor and his sons, Magni and Modi, made sure to exact punishment on the families of the traitors to ensure Aesir supremacy. A warning to not betray the Aesir again. Faye didn't want to dredge up old wounds but she was curious what the humans remember of those days.
Revna chuckled and pat Faye's leg.
"I am old but not that old," She said. "But I remember my father's stories. They were dark days when gods walked the earth and brought destruction with them."
And they walk the land still, Faye thought as her eyes found Farbauti. He was helping the clansmen construct the funeral pyre.
"You should be more wary of these woods," Faye said, turning her thoughts elsewhere. "Just as your people have grown desperate so have the reavers."
"We were moving south when one of our own went missing. Svend. We suspected the worst but we wanted to find a body to perform rites," Revna gave a heavy sigh. "Instead we lost another."
Faye's memory flashed with images of the felled traveler she and Kratos found weeks ago.
"I have seen him," Faye said, her tone turning grim. "We could not burn him but I have performed the funerary rite. His soul will find rest in the halls of his ancestors." Revna pressed her eyes closed in reverence for the dead.
"Thank you." she said and took hold of Faye's hand. Faye wondered what stories Revna had heard from her father. Perhaps she heard stories of the last Jotnar warrior who wielded an axe of frost.
"Stay the night. Let us fill your bellies with hot food and mead, and your hearts with merriment," Revna said, rising from the bench. "It's the least we can do."
The funeral began at dusk just as the sun began to dip below the horizon. The sky bled orange and red. The long mournful drone of a horn marked the beginning of the ritual. Faye learned that Frida's father was named Erik. As the clan gathered close around the pyre Faye listened to the low murmur of his name and tales of his deeds. Faye stood among the bereaved while Kratos remained at the edges of the crowd, preferring to keep his distance. He still refused to speak to Faye. She thought she had caught his glance once or twice but those moments passed so quickly that Faye convinced herself she had imagined them.
Revna stood at the head of the crowd and spoke solemn words to her people.
"This pyre will burn for two of our fallen." Her voice rallied strength among the mourning. As she spoke their names, the people echoed the sacred prayer.
"Erik son of Ulfric!" Revna called.
"Lo, there do I see my mother," The people responded. Their voices were strong, commanding the attention of the ancestors to witness the sacrifice of the dead.
"Svend son of Lief!"
"Lo, there do I see my father." They spoke in unison and Faye mixed her voice with theirs. She thought of all her fallen, the ones whose pyres she lit aflame and the ones she left on the field of battle. Their faces were a blur and the pain weighed so heavy on her soul.
"Lo, there do they call to me," Revna finished, her voice falling to a hush.
"Lo, there do they call to me," The people repeated. Faye said the words and felt them echo through the great void in her chest. It was a grief she would never fully relieve herself of.
With the invocation to the ancestors made, a torch was passed to Revna. She kept repeating the words of the prayer as she lowered the torch to the wood. Fire latched onto the birch and Revna shrunk back while the families of the lost stepped forward. Those who knew the dead spoke as the flames licked at Erik's body. Frida and her people had many kind words to say about the man who had died protecting his family.
"My father will not be forgotten," Frida said. "His memory will live on through me, my sister, and our children, and our children's children. Until we meet again." Frida stood tall in her grief, tears running down her cheeks as she spoke but she did not falter.
It was common belief that one experienced death twice - once when their soul shuffled off the mortal coil and a second time when their memory faded from the world. Faye had no more sisters, no more brothers, no family, no one who would keep her people alive in memory. Hrothga would pass. Sigrid might have vague remembrances of the hunter who would visit once every moon. But there would be no one left who remembered Laufey the Just.
When there were no more words, there was song, and when the flames had taken Erik's spirit to the hall of his forefathers Frida's mother, Inge, gathered his ashes. She collected them in a leather pouch that she would carry with them to their journey home to be spread at his final resting place. As the moon rose high over the encampment, music helped to raise the spirits of the mourning.
"Let the mead to flow," Revna bade the crowd, "Rid your hearts of their heavy burden tonight."
The people gathered around the fire, roasting meats and serving overfull pints of alcohol. There was dancing, laughing, tall tales of myth and legend. Even with a day so full of death there was still joy to be found. A few bashful clansmen asked Faye to dance and she regrettably declined. She enjoyed dancing and would have happily indulged them had her bones not creaked with every step. Faye found Farbauti sitting hunched on a log at the edge of the revelry. The firelight danced over his pale form, embers reflecting in his eyes. She took up a heavy jug of mead and two pints.
"None of the girls will ask you to dance with such an angry face, Farbauti." Face sat back beside Kratos and poured herself a drink. He ignored her and continued watching the festivities. Faye placed the jug of mead on the stone floor beside her and allowed herself to recline.
"You could enjoy yourself, you know. Although, I fear if you were to stop scowling you might crumble." She said, earning a smoldering side-glance from Kratos. She took a few gulps of mead, allowing the sweet alcohol to burn down her throat and set her chest on fire. She winced. It was strong, like she swallowed a hot coal.
"Sweet ancestors in Valhalla, this'll put down a troll." She wheezed but took another sip.
"You could have been killed," Kratos said. He didn't even grace her with his stony glare as he said it.
"This again?" Faye sighed. "I didn't think you were so concerned."
"You know why."
Faye threw a leg over the log so she could sit facing Kratos square-on.
"What do the blades mean to you Farbauti? More than this?"
She gestured with her cup to the merriment around them.
"More than your life."
"More than theirs?" Faye nodded to Frida and Kratos turned his attention. Frida danced with a young man, his long braided hair like golden straw. All the pain that Faye had seen on Frida's face was converted into celebration. Their faces were flushed and eyes brimming with laughter.
"These girls get another chance to live a long life. They will tell their children of this day and they will remember there is goodness in the world." Faye took another long swig of mead, reveling in the heat that pooled in her belly. It helped to ease the pain that ached in every joint.
"Hm." Kratos replied, looking down at his folded hands.
"Do you drink?" she asked.
"I do."
Faye slapped the log with a broad smile.
"Finally something that we agree on," she said and poured him a heavy tankard. "This might actually bring a little color to your face."
"You will need far more than that," Kratos said with a nod to the jug at Faye's feet. The barest glimpse amusement played on his lips, hiding under the thick dark beard of his. Faye cracked her mug against his.
"Cheers, then," Faye said and they drank. Faye pulled away and wheezed a coughing breath, like fire in her throat. Any more of this and she would become a dragon. Kratos drew back from the mug slowly, savoring the mead as he swallowed. He raised his brow.
"θεοί παραπάνω," he said and blew out a long breath. She didn't recognize the words but it sounded like approval.
They spent a long time drinking, watching the festivities. Once in a while a reveler would pass by and fill their never-ending jug of mead. Faye never thought she'd be sharing a drink with a god. Her ancestors would turn in their graves at the thought. As the night went on the people grew more rowdy, friendly brawls and tests of might were starting to erupt. As if they could dance and beat the grief from their bodies. If only it were so easy.
It was Kratos who finally broke the silence between them.
"The witch is not your kin?"
Faye was surprised that he had been the one to initiate a conversation. Sweet ancestors, Faye thought, was he drunk?
"Not by blood. She is a dear old friend that offers me wisdom from time to time," Faye spoke from the lip of her mug, nursing the last of her mead. "What is it, Farbauti? Wondering why a woman is living in the woods all on her own?"
"I am."
"Did you consider that I hate the stink of men?" She hid her impish smile in her mead then glanced around. No one had come by in some time to refill their cups. She'd need more alcohol if she was going to be entertaining a conversation with Kratos.
Faye stood up to refill their jug and the fire in her belly spilled over down the length of her legs to her feet. She wobbled with awkward steps.
Gods, she realized, am I drunk?
"You are avoiding the answer," he said. Faye cocked her head, swirling the remnants of her mead in her cup.
"What is it you like to say? 'It is none of your concern.'"
"You have made it my concern as I am now both hunter and guardian," Kratos said, his tone shifting. Faye's demeanor soured. They had been having a decent enough time, why did he have to ruin it?
"I would have managed," she said, returning to the log. Standing made her head dizzy and the ground swirl beneath her.
"I would sooner strike you between the eyes with an arrow than have left you with the reavers," He said. Faye nodded to the family who was alive and dancing rather than lying dead in a field.
"But you would leave them?"
He considered her for a moment before choosing his words.
"There are some miseries you must close your heart to," Kratos said. Faye waved him off.
"I don't want your grains of wisdom," she said.
"You cannot save everyone," he continued.
"I can try."
She couldn't just shut herself off from the world and sufferings of others. She couldn't understand how anyone could. The world was full of suffering but there was happiness too. Yes, her grief was unbearable sometimes but without immense pain she would not appreciate immense joy. This life was worth more than the sum of its miseries.
"You would die for them?" Kratos asked.
"If that's what it takes."
"If that's what you want," Kratos said, rough voice turning grim. Faye looked down as she searched for the words. She lost herself in the moving shadows cast against the stone floor.
"My family. My entire clan was slaughtered by rivals in a pointless territory skirmish," Faye said. It was true enough. "I wish there had been someone to come rescue them."
Kratos cast her an empathetic look.
"You look like you want to say something so say it." Faye said.
"What you did will not bring your people back," he said.
"Don't attempt to educate me about loss, god. What do you know?" Even as she spat the words at him, he never lost that look of understanding.
"Enough."
"Who did you lose?" Faye pressed.
"Everyone," Kratos said.
Faye looked away. So Farbauti had experienced a great loss just as she had. Then why didn't he understand? Had he shut himself off so completely that he had not a single grain of empathy left? Grief affected people differently, Faye knew as much. She thought about what he had said about closing the heart. Only someone in terrible pain could do such things.
"I can't change what happened to my people," Faye said, "It's not about that."
"Then what is the point?"
"The point is to bring some semblance of justice to this gods-forsaken world," Faye said. "So no one else has to suffer as much as I have."
"To be human is to suffer."
"Then what does that make you?" Faye snapped. They were both so consumed with arguing that neither of them noticed the clan member approach them until he spoke.
"If I may interrupt," he said, hesitant to get between the two. Both Kratos and Faye whirled on the man, shooting daggers through their eyes. The man cleared his throat awkwardly. "Revna would like a word with you."
Faye slammed her mug down and stood, all too eager to leave the conversation. The man looked back and forth between her and Kratos.
"Both of you," he clarified.
Kratos reluctantly joined Faye to the elder's tent. It was large and comfortable. There were many luxurious looking furs and braziers giving the room a soft amber glow. Revna stood leaning on her knuckles against a table with various maps spread over it. Her face was wrinkled, perplexed by whatever occupied her attention.
"I have a proposition for you both," she said, tracing a thin finger along the parchment.
"I decline," Kratos snapped. Both Revna and Faye shot him a withering glance. He looked like he might turn to walk away but Faye held a tight grip on his arm.
"Don't be rude," Faye scolded. The muscles in Kratos' jaw worked as he glowered down at her. "Apologies for my companion, Revna."
Revna gestured for Faye and Kratos to approach and pointed to her map.
"My scouts reported that reavers have overtaken the main road south."
"You need an escort," Kratos surmised, cutting past pleasantries. Faye pieced it together for herself.
"Is that why you insisted we remain? To wait for the return of your forward scouts?" Faye asked.
"I apologize for the deception. But we are in great need," Revna admitted. Kratos must have seen through the ruse the moment he arrived. It would explain the abject annoyance.
"I promise there would be ample compensation for your troubles," Revna said, desperation rising in her tone. Faye spoke up before Kratos could further insult the elder.
"What kind of compensation?"
"We don't have much as far as gold but - furs, resources, that much is negotiable. Our only way back would be to cut through the valley but it gets us too close to the reavers."
Kratos leaned over to peer at the map and his golden eyes worked it over.
"Could you not take to the mountain?" He pressed his finger to a thin sliver of a mountain pass.
"Only if we wish to join our ancestors sooner than expected."
"The valley is too open," Faye begrudgingly agreed with Kratos as she considered the map. "The mountain may be our only option."
Kratos tensed at'our'.
"You accept?" Revna asked, visibly lifting with hope. Kratos leveled a glare at Faye as if to say: Don't be stupid.
"We accept," Faye said, enlisting them both to the task. She sensed Kratos seething beside her and she was sure she'd never hear the end of it once they left the tent.
"Thank you." Revna's shoulders eased their tension and relief softened her features. They'd leave in two days time.
KRATOS
Faye began stalking off toward an unoccupied wing of the abandoned structure with the frost axe in one hand and a bedroll in the other. Kratos moved to catch up to her.
"Are you completely mad?" His rage was beginning to slip its leash with the hunter. Faye spun and walked backward, leading with confidence down a crumbling hall.
"You can't expect me to leave them helpless. And you heard her: 'ample compensation'. Words I like to hear. We need the resources."
She faced down the corridor, taking confident twists and turns like she knew where she was going.
"This is beyond resources," Kratos fumed. "What are you trying to prove? You can barely swing the axe and now you are testing the limits of our bargain."
The corridor opened up into a domed room bolstered with high stone arches. It was secluded from the noise of the camp. Faye tossed the bedroll and axe to the floor then planted her hands on her hips.
"The deal was that I return the blades by spring and that's exactly what I intend to do. Between now and then is your business."
As if he had any other choice.
"You have made your business mine."
The hunter threw her hands up.
"Then help me!" she demanded. "What do you have to lose? Besides your pride. Can't possibly be your humanity."
"You make easy judgements for one so quick to prove themselves a hero," he knew the words would hurt after what she had told him by the fire.
"They deserve a life without fear, don't they? If you had a family would you not want their safety?"
Kratos lost his sense and the words slipped out.
"I had a family." Why was he telling her this? Faye snapped her mouth shut, her whole demeanor changing in an instant.
"What happened to them?" she asked. Her voice was low, barely a whisper as if she was afraid of what she would hear. Kratos knew he'd let the hunter get under his skin and he had said too much. Faye stepped closer and searched his face.
"Who is Lysandra and Calliope?"
Kratos shook his head. He didn't owe her his past, those ghosts were his alone to haunt him and no one else's. Faye placed a hand on his shoulder.
"Tell me," she pleaded softly. For a brief moment, Kratos considered telling her everything. It was a thought eased with hours of drinking and it passed as soon as it came. That story would only confirm the hunter's suspicions about the gods and he'd never get his blades back. Kratos backed away, releasing himself from Faye's scrutinizing gaze.
"They're gone," he said. What was he even doing here? His feet carried him down the corridor. He couldn't spend another minute in this place.
"Where are you going?" Faye called after him.
"Do not follow me," Kratos snarled.
The activity of the camp was dying down. The roaring fires had dwindled to low embers. There wasn't anyone to question his absence when most of the clan had retreated to their tents for coupling or to sleep off the alcohol. Kratos wasn't sure where he wanted to be right now. Just...away. Somewhere where he could be alone to exercise his rage.
Kratos disappeared into the trees and didn't look back.
FAYE
Leading down a dubious set of stairs were the remains of a bathhouse. She had awoken from a restless sleep with her head pounding like an entire garrison of dwarves was inside her skull. Thankfully she was able to get a change of clothes and fresh bandage for her ribs from the traders. She reeked of death. The blood had dried in her current roughspun clothes and crusted to her skin and hair. She knew there must be a bathhouse or some kind of natural spring left in the marketplace where rich merchants could afford to rest between travels. She untangled her hair from the coil of braids and picked out the leaves, sticks, and clumps of dirt that had accumulated. If only the traders had soap or scented oils as well.
Faye stripped off her clothes and tattered bandages and waded into the pool. The water was frigid but it didn't bother Faye much, she even found it comforting. It shocked her back into her body when she was stuck in her head. Dawn broke through the thick cover of clouds and Farbauti had still not returned.
She had gone too far with her insults last night and she stewed over all the ones she had said before. Faye replayed them in her mind as she sank in the water. Using the names Farbauti had murmured in his sleep against him. Throwing jabs and taunts about loss and ancestors and the afterlife, not knowing the hurt she must have inflicted.
Faye submerged fully in the water and curled into herself. She sank to the bottom where there was nothing but the frigid darkness around her and the thrum of her heart. Besides Tyr, Faye had never expressed compassion for a god before. She used to think of them as void of emotions, just heartless monsters who only sought chaos and destruction. Perhaps that was true for some, but not all.
Kratos had proven her prejudices wrong more than once. He was not some mindless bloodthirsty creature. She even agreed with what he said: to be human was to suffer. Pain, regret, suffering - they were all part of what separated the gods from the mortals. It was what made Kratos different. He was still unpleasant, unfriendly, and Faye didn't enjoy his company. Faye found it relieving to think that Kratos was just as flawed and ill-tempered as any other human would be. It made him seem more like a man than a god.
Faye rose to the surface of the pool, coming to terms that she had misunderstood so much about him. It was a wrong that she had to make right.
KRATOS
Kratos' footsteps echoed as he entered the chamber. It looked to be the remains of an old bath house before falling into disrepair. But the bath itself was still functional. A natural spring poured from the sculpted maw of a wolf into the pool. The stone steps leading down disappeared into the inky black water as the depth increased. Only Faye's head to her collar were visible, the rest was a vague mirage as if she were made of smoke. Faye watched his approach from the far corner of the pool. There was a surety in her intense icy gaze. She reminded Kratos of the sirens, creatures whose beauty drew many seafarers to the depth.
Kratos tossed the bundle of armor at the edge of the water. It clattered in a heap. Faye's attention flicked from the bundle to Kratos.
"I thought you left." Faye swam to the edge and Kratos turned with his back to her. Water splashed as she reached out of the pool and turned the bundle over. "What's all this?"
"We will leave today," Kratos said, "And return within the fortnight."
And after, he wouldn't spend any more time dealing with matters that need not involve him. A fortnight was more than enough time to escort the clan to their homestead and return. Like any company of soldiers Kratos had commanded, they would follow his lead or be left behind. It would be his way or none at all.
"You could use a bath, Farbauti," Faye said from the water's edge. Kratos shot her a look over his shoulder. Golden eyes coasted along her exposed collar, tracing the runic tattoos along her freckled skin. Her cheeks flushed a rosy color. Kratos tore his eyes away.
Was she taunting him? He didn't understand what cruel satisfaction she drew from toying with him.
"You stink of god-kin," she explained. "Any smart creature will sniff you out."
Kratos ignored her and nudged the bundle beside him with his boot.
"Put this on, you will need it." He didn't want to spend any more time playing childish games with her. The water sloshed gently as she moved. He could hear the shuffle of leather over metal as Faye inspected the bundle from the edge of the pool.
"Where did you find this?"
Kratos noted the subtle surprise in her voice as she discovered her own armor. The water shifted as Faye rose from the bath and snatched up her clothes. He kept his back turned as she dressed.
"Snooping around my house, were you? Find everything you were looking for?" Her voice dripped with anger.
"Would I be here if I had?" he countered. He returned to the homestead with the intention of finding his blades and moving on from this land. Instead he found Faye's long-unused armor in a trunk locked under her bed. It was old and weathered, but it would have to do if they were to make the journey south. He didn't want to burden himself with worrying about her safety every step of the way.
"When we return, our bargain ends and you return the blades to me," Kratos said. "Those are my terms."
Faye fell silent behind him as his words struck her. Then a hand gripped his shoulder and spun him around.
"That wasn't part of our deal."
"Neither was this."
"And if I don't accept?" Faye crossed her arms, stepping closer. Kratos gestured up the stairs where the rest of the clan was preparing to depart.
"You won't risk them."
He knew what she was doing, that she was attempting to change what she could not. There wasn't any use in Kratos trying to be anything other than what he was. Whatever goodness, whatever humanity, was left in him died long before he stepped foot on these shores.
Resigned, Faye took to her belongings. She returned and offered Kratos the roll of bindings for her ribs.
"Help me with this." Faye's oceanic eyes lingered on Kratos and for a moment he was afraid of drowning in her gaze. By 'this' he realized that she meant dressing her injury.
He took the roll of fresh wrapping in hesitant hands. She turned away from him, lifting her tunic. He saw the faint shadow of her breast as she turned away. He swallowed over the lump that grew in his throat, suddenly finding it hard to breath. As a soldier and general, Kratos had dressed many wounds before on the battlefield, worse ones than mere broken ribs. This was no different.
Faye had the body of a warrior, trained for endurance of battle and bearing an abundance of scars. Signs that she had escaped death more than once. His eyes followed the hard muscles of her abdomen, a sculpted 'V' shape that disappeared into her trousers.
"Go on," Faye urged. Kratos returned to his senses and focused on the task. He unfurled the roll of linen and braced the tail in one hand against her side. When skin met skin, Faye gave a sharp inhale. Kratos froze.
"Are you in pain?" He was not concerned about the pain itself. A warrior could endure pain. He was more occupied with the risk of her injury worsening and putting her life in danger. Ribs were tricky, fragile things. So close to all the vital organs they were meant to protect- the heart, the liver, the lungs.
"No. Continue." Faye said, clearing her throat.
Each time Kratos passed the linen from hand to hand around Faye's ribcage, he sensed her tense further. He found himself distracted by the tattoos down the center of her spine. A tangle of geometric designs etched across her ivory skin. They were old, the blue-black ink blurring with age, and they would have been painful. From what she had told him, Kratos knew the hunter had endured far worse. He remembered receiving his own tattoo but nothing was more painful than the ashes of his wife and daughter ingrained into his very skin.
"Do not think I am unaware of your meddling. I did not come to these lands to live as a man," Kratos said as he worked.
Faye didn't spare him her gaze and part of him was grateful for it. Kratos wrapped the linen upward until he reached just below Faye's chest then passed the linen to her to wrap herself.
She could try to punish him with her silent loathing but he would not be beholden to her wishes once this was over. Kratos didn't know exactly where he would go or what he would do once they returned. But he knew that he wouldn't remain in these lands any longer than he had to.
When Kratos secured the bindings, Faye handed Kratos her chainmail shirt.
"Are all the gods the same?" She spoke as he guided her arms into holes and pulled it over her head. "Selfish and unpleasant?"
He didn't give her the satisfaction of a response. She passed Kratos her studded leather vest and pulled her wet hair over her shoulder. Kratos found another set of runes etched behind her ear that trailed down her neck.
"Do not pretend to be so righteous." Kratos tugged harder than he should on the lacing, eliciting a hiss from Faye's lips. "I saw your face when you killed him. Did you like the way it felt when you killed him?"
She grew still when he said that. He saw her face when she took the killing blow, the gratification in her bloodied smile. In battle there was control and then there was indulgence. He knew both all too well. Faye turned snatched her leather gauntlets from Kratos' hands.
"I enjoy killing monsters, yes." Faye said as she laced the gauntlets up her forearms. "Is it a crime without consequence. Meanwhile, you gods think you can go wherever you want. Do what you please with no heed to the price."
He didn't want to give in to her provocations but she continued to weaken his resolve strike after strike. Kratos shoved Faye's belt into her chest.
"You have no idea what I have paid," He rumbled.
In an unexpected moment of contact, Faye reached up and caught his hand at her sternum. He felt the gentle drum of her heartbeat against the palm of his hand.
"Then tell me." Her Aegean gaze threatened him again. Kratos pulled away sharply.
"You would not understand."
"Then help me to understand," Faye said, securing the belt around her waist."You were a soldier, yes?"
"I was a general," Kratos ground out.
"You had a family. A goddess wife, a daughter?" Faye spoke. Kratos' brow drew together.
"They were human," Kratos' voice broke over the words. Kratos' mind flashed with images of Lysandra and Calliope. The well of endless rage inside washed away when he spoke of them. So sudden and terrible was the grief he felt that he thought the earth would open beneath him and drag Kratos to the depths of Tartarus. Faye blinked.
"Human…?" she repeated. Pain etched his features.
"As I once was but am no longer." Kratos' head fell in shame. "As I can never be again."
Faye looked like she wanted to say something that could comfort Kratos. Faye said nothing and he was relieved she didn't. He didn't want her pity.
"There is much you do not know," Kratos said, "Think about that before you make your judgements."
He left Faye where she stood to try and pick up the broken pieces of him and resurrect a man from them.
But Kratos knew better. There wasn't a soul in him left to save.