Hi God of War family!
Thank you so much for your patience during the hiatus. It was a little longer than expected but I took some time to do some reworking of ideas that I've had and I'm really exciting to share them with you all. I think this is my longest chapter to date and you all deserve it after the long wait.
As always, you're all the best and I'm so excited to get the next chapters up!
DM me anytime on me if you ever have questions, comments, or concerns. Or just pop by if you want my unhinged 3am thoughts. I love your feedback and it truly means so much to me.
Stay safe out there everyone.
xoxo Howler
Metánoia - μετάνοια
1. (n.) The journey of changing one's mind, heart, self, or way of life
2. (v.) The act of reforming; becoming new
FAYE BEFORE
Faye kept her watch to the shadows beyond the Jotunn's camp. She sat back on her heels with Leviathan laid across her lap. Leviathan hummed uneasily in her grip and Faye wondered if the Undir's cursed magic had an effect on the weapon too. The Undir pressed against Faye's senses and she could feel it closing in around her like a tight fist. Their campfire offered some comfort but it did little against the unsettling chill that had burrowed into her bones.
Her mind was still crowded with Yrsa's plan of telling the Drowned Maidens their most sacred secret. While she was painfully aware it was their only option left, everything in Faye reeled at the idea. She didn't know what lay beyond that downward spiraling path but every step closer made her blood turn to ice in her veins. A shadow grew behind her, a familiar figure rising from beside the fire.
"You should try to rest," Faye murmured to the shadow. Frode wheeled his arm around as he came to Faye's side. He winced as he worked out a knot of tension from his shoulder.
"Nah, can't sleep down here. Feels like I'm being watched," he said.
"I feel it too."
Frode took a deep breath and let it out slowly like he was sinking underwater and letting every last bit of air in his lungs.
"Let's talk," he said.
Faye stiffened and glanced up. His verdant gaze was bloodshot with heavy bags weighing under his eyes. She wondered what terrors kept him awake and what horrible visions he saw between the shadows.
"Go on then." Faye knew he'd want to talk about what she'd said back at the longhouse. She groped for the right words but she couldn't think of anything to say that would fix it. Frode sank down in a huff beside her, elbows resting on his knees.
"I'm thinking." Frode pressed his thumb into a deep knotted scar on the inside of his palm.
Faye noticed the nervous habit whenever he was working through a scramble of thoughts he couldn't quite string together. Usually she'd see this when they'd be sussing out tactics like working their way around Asgardian forces, how to free their prisoners, or tend to those that they could not release. It stung to think that she was so inaccessible, that getting close to her was a battle in itself.
Seeming to gather his thoughts, Frode took a sudden sharp breath and spoke.
"What I said wasn't fair to you and I'm sorry," Frode said. Faye's brow pulled together. She ought to be the one apologizing to him. He registered the confusion drawn over her face and cleared his throat.
"Y'know. About you having nothing to lose. I know it's different for you," Frode said and the way he said different didn't sit well with Faye one bit.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Frode gave her a hard look.
"You know what I mean. You see things differently. Closeness is weakness. Love is distraction."
Faye felt a pang of guilt and looked away from him, shame tying her in knots. It made her feel as if she was somehow defective. It seemed to come so easy to the rest of them, the casual way they could be close. Maybe Faye was just that - different . Even as Faye wished for the closeness there was always a part of her that resisted. She had kept herself at a distance, detached. She didn't know why she was like that. Maybe she'd been alone for so long that she didn't know how else to be.
"You don't know how I feel," Faye said slowly, as if by speaking slower she could contain her rising anger. Frode fumbled around with his words.
"I meant no offense. Shit . I'm doing this all wrong, aren't I?" Frode said with a brittle laugh.
"Yeah," Faye bobbed her head, "You're doing a pretty shit job."
"It's just - I'm trying to make things right between us."
"Why bother if I'm so different ?"
"Because you're my friend , Laufey" Frode cut in, "Just because we're different doesn't mean we can't be friends." Faye swung her attention to him.
"Friends," she repeated. She didn't think the word would bite as much as it did.
"Aye." Frode nodded with a tired look.
Her breath closed over the tightness in her throat. She didn't understand him. After all she'd said, all she'd done to push them away, he considered her a friend?
"What I mean to say is: I'm not going anywhere. None of us are," Frode continued, "I won't let you scare me away."
Faye stilled. This was something new and fragile that she didn't want to break. She tightened her grip on the Leviathan, wringing the handle. The silence stretched between them for some time until Frode spoke again.
"You ever think about what you'll do when this is over?" he asked.
"When what is over?"
"The mission. The war. When it's all over."
Faye shook her head. He was either delirious or hopelessly naive.
"You know it will never be over. Not as long as Odin and his loyalists live."
"But haven't you thought about it?"
"Have you?" Faye deflected. It didn't take long for Frode to answer, his mind clearly made up.
"I'm going to build Hana and I a home where our children can grow without ever knowing war. And, Norns-willing, I'll die fat and happy."
He said it with such surety and Faye could feel it emanating from him. She could feel the warmth of the rolling golden meadows at the foothills of Jotunheim's tallest peak. In the summer, the birch leaves turned a shimmering green and the breeze carried the scent of honey. The weight on her chest seemed to ease a little, the spell of the Undir broken. But that all seemed so impossibly far away now. Faye wasn't sure if any of them would see home again.
"What would you be if not a soldier?" Frode pressed. "You've had centuries to think about it, there must be something."
Faye clenched her jaw until it hurt. She had no answer. What else could she be? This is everything she'd ever known since she was a child. She had been too young to remember the faces of her family before they were slaughtered in the crossfire between Aesir and Vanir. Too young to be pushed out into the unforgiving world - alone. Faye had learned to survive on her own for a long, long time. She had to keep herself shielded, even if it meant shielding herself from the good things as well as the bad.
"Do you want nothing else? A home? A family? A life without constant bloodshed?" he pressed. Faye hated to see the disappointment in his face but she stilled her tongue.
There was so much he didn't understand, so much she didn't have the language to say. He was right, she wanted all of those things. But she never allowed herself to imagine the kind of future she might have beyond the war, too afraid to lose it all.
"None of that matters unless we succeed," Faye said.
"Of course it matters," Frode hissed, "If it doesn't matter then what in Ymir's name are we fighting for?"
Faye's grip on the Leviathan was white-knuckled. She knew she was screwing this up. She was taking this chance that Frode was giving her and squandering it.
"What do you want from me, Frode?"
"I don't know why, but you're always running." He sighed, throwing his hands. "What are you so afraid of?"
In a single question he'd made her feel like a child again. Devastated, lost, and in search of comfort. Just how she had been when she'd found Tyr all those years ago.
"I-" Faye broke off.
There was so much that she couldn't put into words, as if saying it outloud would make it real and she'd have to face it. She was afraid that she would fail them all. Afraid that if she got too attached then she would finally feel that thing she'd always been chasing only to have it ripped away. Maybe that comfort had been all around her this whole time but she had been too afraid to reach out and pull it close - afraid that it would all turn to ash in her embrace.
"When all you know is war, peace feels too much like surrender," Faye's voice trembled, "And love too much like chains." The words were agony.
Frode's face twisted in a pained grimace, thumb digging into his palm.
"I know what Yrsa's asked of you," he said quietly.
"So, have you come to contribute your thoughts on the matter?" Faye asked, voice hollow.
"You can't let her do it."
Faye took a breath, swallowed hard, and opened her senses to Frode. A tidal wave of his overwhelming desperation rolled over her. It was frantic and wild, as if it were an animal writhing in a trap between them. Faye choked down on her bitterness.
"I haven't agreed to anything-"
"See reason, Laufey. She'd sacrifice everything for you . You know that, don't you?"
"You say it like she already has."
Frode shook his head.
"It is not my place to say."
Faye tightened her jaw.
"Well if you have a better idea then, please, you have my eager ear," she invited cruelly.
"We'll think of something!" he said, voice quavering, "I promise you it will all be for nothing if we betray Jotunheim. I am begging you."
"Frode-"
"Swear it," he pleaded, "Please. I need you to swear it."
Faye didn't know if there was another way, or what other payment they could offer to the Maidens for safe passage through the Undir. But she knew he was right. Even if it meant finding Tyr, even if it meant a momentary advantage in this ongoing war. If they gave up Jotunheim then all hope would truly be lost.
"I swear," she said. For a moment, a bit of light returned to Frode's eyes, a slight crinkle at the corners of the vast green.
"Frode?" It was Hana. Faye's shot to her feet and turned her attention to the poet. She hadn't even noticed her soft approach.
"You should be resting," Frode said quickly, recovering himself. "What's wrong?"
Hana looked between them looking much paler than usual and Faye could sense a sharp pang of fear in her.
Faye's attention darted to the fire but Yrsa's familiar, looming figure was nowhere to be found. The Asgardian, Salka, was gone. Pallets empty. Satchels untouched. And Yrsa's warhammer still leaned against the jagged stone wall. Faye's heartbeat galloped. She reached out with her senses like a hand probing the dark, searching for Yrsa's embrace but she only felt the Undir closing in even tighter. Faye's voice shook when she spoke, gripped with cold horror.
"Where is Yrsa?"
FAYE NOW
It was a grey and clouded afternoon with the chill of winter biting at the heels of the rushing winds. Faye crouched at the mossy riverbank with the Wildwoods at her back and the mist-cloaked mountains looming ahead. Faye had that long-familiar, doomed sense of the unknown as their path towered ahead. She'd felt this before a long, long time ago in the deep and in the dark.
It's happening again .
No, it's different this time. It had to be.
She had to focus on what she could control. It was the only way to rein in that weighty disquiet inside herself. Faye plunged her tattooed hands into the icy waters to check their fishing baskets. With luck, they'd be able to replenish their food stores before they made the ascent. Faye frowned as she inspected the contents: two salmon and an eel wriggling inside. They were small and barely enough to keep a belly full. Faye gathered the fish with a troubled, exhausted sigh. It seemed that luck wouldn't be working in her favor.
Kratos was waist-high in the river's rushing current. He'd been standing like that for some time, still as stone, as he watched his net beneath the inky surface. Faye studied the tallness of him and the hard swell of muscle across the broad expanse of his shoulders. Faye unconsciously followed the crimson tattoo circling him til it came to a jagged point across his eye. His face, though deep in focus, was serene. She would have been tempted to say he was handsome.
"Anything?" she called softly over the water, careful not to startle the fish. Kratos half-turned and his usual scowl returned as the spell of calm was broken. Faye felt a little bad for disturbing him.
Kratos grunted and hauled his net to the water's edge. He tossed his catch upon the rocky bank where a handful of fish flopped around inside. She and Kratos wore matching dour expressions. Faye crossed her arms and chewed on her thumbnail, calculating their logistics.
"At this rate we will make it over the mountain by spring," she said.
"It would seem so," Kratos said. " Embros gremós ke píso réma," he rumbled to himself. His voice carried a rich timbre when he spoke in his native tongue.
Faye recognized a couple of the words. Kratos had been hesitant but she was able to coax simple words out of him like rock, forest, deer, camp. It was hardly an education but she'd take what she could get. Faye tilted her head, thinking.
Gremós, cliff. Réma, river.
"Yes," Faye agreed slowly, "The cliff is ahead and the river is behind." It was an odd thing for him to say.
"You understood?" He snapped his attention to her, suspicion heavy in his tone. Faye shrugged.
"I told you before that I'm good with languages."
"You understated your abilities," he grumbled warily, as if she'd tricked him.
"Perhaps you underestimated me, Farbauti."
"I, mistakenly, took you at your word," Kratos corrected her. "And that is not what that means."
"Oh?"
Kratos looked as if he was mentally kicking himself for provoking Faye's relentless curiosity. Faye rolled her eyes. He guarded his words as a dragon guards its hoard.
"Nevermind," Faye muttered. She went back to cleaning and storing their catch, silently brooding. Kratos watched her, tight-lipped, and then:
"The phrase does not literally mean that the cliff is ahead and the river is behind," he said, a bit begrudgingly.
Caught off guard by the unforced explanation, Faye stilled. She didn't say anything - nervous she might push him too far.
"It means that one is caught between equally bad choices," Kratos continued, "As we are now."
"Embros gremós ke píso réma," Faye rolled the words over her tongue again and savored the foreign syllables. Faye was fascinated by Hellenike , she was drawn to its rhythm and the way it flowed and lilted. Even the most mundane of words sounded like poetry. Kratos was still watching her with that skeptical expression.
"How do you do that?"
"Do what?"
Kratos crossed his arms, annoyed.
"How is it that you understand a language you have never heard before?"
"I just do. Why does a bird fly and a fish swim?" Faye shrugged. Judging by his stern expression Kratos was clearly unsatisfied with that answer so Faye continued. "I suppose it's like a puzzle for me. If I learn enough words then I can put the pieces together and feel my way around new ones."
"I do not understand how one completes a puzzle that they do not have all of the pieces to."
"I guess, mostly," she said, knowing he would resent that answer. Ever the pragmatist, he wasn't the kind to lean on guesswork and certainly not luck.
"... guess ?" he repeated like the word left a bitter taste in his mouth.
"I am very good at making guesses and I like solving puzzles. It keeps the mind busy."
"Or," Kratos countered, "You have neglected to inform me that you have encountered another Hellene before."
Faye narrowed her eyes.
"If they all look like you then I'm sure that I would have remembered."
"Hm," he grunted, busying himself with storing their catch, "I was not always this way."
Faye looked more closely at his ghostly skin. She didn't think that his complexion had anything to do with his godhood till now. She had a friend that was blue, afterall. But the realization reminded again that he had once been human.
"What do Hellenes look like then?"
Kratos bristled at the question.
"If you tell me then I promise to alert you if I ever see one," she teased.
"Does your gift also allow you to see people that you have never encountered before as well?"
Faye chewed the inside of her cheek to conceal a smile. She didn't miss that he had called her ability a 'gift', rather than a 'skill' or something less complimentary. He chose his words carefully so she knew it was not by mistake or coincidence. If that was his small way of offering praise, then she'd take it.
"I have a very active imagination, I assure you," Faye said. Kratos thought for a moment and she could see that whatever memories Kratos was sifting through had brought some sadness to his eyes.
"Most have complexions warmed and deepened by the sun. Dark hair and eyes like freshly tilled earth or polished amber." Kratos spoke with profound sorrow as if he was describing someone who had been very dear to him. Maybe his wife and child.
"You can be surprisingly descriptive when you want to be," Faye muttered. Hellenes were not so hard to imagine. Many Jotunns even had similar features. "So Hellada is a warm place with lots of sun, I take it."
Kratos swallowed, expression darkening, then nodded.
"Yes," was all he said, leaving no room for elaboration. It was maddening. Faye pictured Kratos with deep chestnut toned skin in a realm far different than Midgard. It made her mind itch to think about what happened to make him this way and what had changed him from a mortal into a god. She'd never heard of any such thing happening in the nine realms but perhaps the magic in Hellada was different. Yet no matter the realm, no matter the breed of corrupt magic - the price for immortality would have been steep.
You have no idea what I have paid , he'd said that night in the ruins. She wondered if the death of his wife and daughter had been a punishment. Or payment. Faye didn't want to think that he would be capable of something so heinous. She didn't want to think that her worst suspicions had been true all along. It was like Hrothga had said: those chains were put there for a reason.
Faye's chest tightened with the grim thought. Looking at Kratos, she reached out with her senses and she could feel that he was guarding something cold inside of him. Some people were more open than others. Then there were those, like Kratos, who were closed off from her completely. It was frustrating, yes, but maybe if he opened up to her then she could understand him better. Faye continued her work, her mind disquieted.
" Pyrrhus are rare," Kratos said. Faye's thoughts were so tangled together that she didn't understand at first. Then he'd gestured to her hair. She ran her hand along the auburn braid hanging over her shoulder.
" Pyrrhus, " she repeated. "It means...flame-colored." It made her wonder about how Kratos saw her. What did those golden eyes see? Then she thought about those periodic glances she'd catch from him now and again. Faye's cheeks heated.
"Your accent is getting better," He commented and hauled his basket of fish over his shoulder. "You…appreciate languages," he said. He didn't phrase it as a question but she knew he was curious about her voracity.
"Someone very important to me helped teach me languages," she said, "I guess I've always kind of had a knack for it."
"I take it you did not need their instruction very long, swift learner as you are."
"Quite the contrary. I had so much more to learn from him before I lost him."
Kratos looked at her thoughtfully, those golden eyes searching her face.
"He would be proud."
A bitter smile pulled at Faye's lips.
"Thank you," she said.
"There is nothing to be thankful for."
Their conversation died down on that somber note and Faye trailed behind as Kratos led the way back. Faye was pleased to be making some progress with Kratos but the more she learned, the more questions she had. There remained that more unsettled part of herself that reserved its doubts about the god.
What if he is the kind you kill and not the kind you save? It questioned incessantly.
When they returned, other hunters and gatherers from the clan returned as well with similarly minuscule catches. Hungry hands were quick to take their share of rations. Kratos and Faye had to settle a few arguments over whose share was larger or smaller. The simple fact of it was that they were all small portions.
It's happening again. It's happening again.
It became a chant that was clawed at the edge of every thought. Faye could sense the people's desperation growing as their days grew long with fewer and fewer resources to share amongst themselves. And time was only growing shorter until the first snow.
KRATOS
Avoiding sleep, Kratos filled the last hours of his watch by checking traps he and Faye had laid. The growing cold signaled the wildlife to begin to hibernate and large game had become more elusive. The forest had fallen quiet as if it too was beginning to slip into a long slumber. With the icy embrace of winter sweeping in, Kratos' breath came in puffs of white clouds. The wind moaned through the towering trees and shook the leaves loose from their branches.
Daybreak was just at the edge of the horizon when Kratos began circling back toward camp with a decent catch of rabbits swung over his shoulder. Something was off in the air. There was an odd rhythmic sound permeating the morning stillness. Metal scraping tree-bark and huffing breaths of effort. Closer, Kratos caught the sight of white-blonde hair amongst the tangle of branches and the flash of a blade in the dawning light. He let loose a heavy sigh and approached the small clearing of trees. Reidun did not mark his approach but continued slashing wildly at a tree already scored deep from her blade.
"You should not be here unaccompanied, girl," he said as a way of greeting. She was doing drills of a sort but her movements were amateur and clumsy. When Kratos did not leave she cut him a harsh glare.
"I want to be alone," she said between panting breaths. That much was obvious and he had half a mind to leave her be, or at the very least guard her out of sight. But there was a persistent feeling in Kratos' chest that made him stay. He recognized that seething, unhinged darkness in her expression.
"It is not safe to be here alone," Kratos insisted, scanning the trees. There was something unsettling as he listened to the stillness of the forest.
"It's not safe anywhere ," she grunted as she struck at the tree again. Sweat beaded down her pale brow and she swiped it away with the back of her hand. Kratos scowled when he saw that her hands were a mess of cuts and blisters. If she held the blade correctly she wouldn't be accidentally cutting herself.
"Come, I will escort you back to camp," he tried coaxing her.
"Leave me be." She lunged at the tree, striking with chaotic blows. Her footing was all off, making her stance fragile. She was quick but against a real opponent she would be felled with one, well-aimed strike.
"It was not a request."
Reidun wrenched the dagger from the tree bark, pulling with all her weight to lodge it free. She held it stiffly at her side with shaking hands.
"I can't go back," Reidun said with her back turned to him, "I can't stand to look at them." Kratos kept his eyes on the knife in her trembling grip. It was like watching a wounded animal squirm and writhe in a trap, desperate to free itself. She couldn't go on like this. He eased the rabbits off his shoulder and placed them gently on the ground, careful not to make sudden movements or make too much noise.
"Why?" He asked as he stepped closer.
"Grandad. Mother. Frida. They all act like nothing happened. As if he wasn't killed right in front of us-" Reidun let out a shaky breath, unable to finish her sentence. She howled in fury and charged at the tree again but Kratos caught her wrist.
"Let go!" she snarled as she pounded her fist into his chest.
"Be still," he scolded her as she struggled. Kratos held firm as she tried to jerk free. Careful not to hurt her, and snatched the knife from her hand. Kratos released her and she stumbled back, her breathing turned wild and erratic. She tried lunging for the knife again but Kratos stepped out of her reach to inspect the weapon.
"Give it back!"
"Compose yourself," he snapped. Reidun, realizing this was a fight she would not win, backed down. He looked the knife over thoughtfully and took his time to allow the girl to calm. He glanced between her and the weapon but the vicious gleam in her eyes was unrelenting.
"This is a fine weapon. Forged by a master smith," he noted, turning the knife over in his hands. Reidun seemed intrigued by that. Seeing that she had calmed, Kratos leaned to her level and placed the flat of the knife on his finger where the blade met the grip. They watched as the knife wavered then stilled as it found equilibrium.
"See? It is perfectly balanced." Kratos twirled the knife to demonstrate, weaving it in between in his fingers. Reidun's eyes went wide as if he had shown her a magic trick. He flipped it over in his hands then offered it back to the girl. "But the blade is dull," he said, "It will need to be sharpened before it is a proper weapon."
She took the knife in both hands, looking more inconsolable now.
"I remember when he made this," she sniffled, her voice raw with emotion. "He said that I could have it when I was older. When I was ready."
Where Kratos had once only seen viciousness and rage, now he saw Reidun's grief more clearly. It had been a long long time ago, but he remembered what it felt like to be helpless. Kratos had only been a boy when Deimos was taken from him. He hadn't been able to forgive himself and that pain had defined him.
"If I had been stronger-" Reidun whispered in a sob. Looking at this child who was so young but had experienced so much misery, all he could see was a kindred agony. He briefly wondered if this was what Faye had meant when she spoke of seeing with wide-open eyes.
"You are a child. You are not responsible for the cruelty of this world," Kratos said. "Neither you nor your family are at fault for anything that happened. Do you understand?"
She nodded, lip quivering.
"I just want to feel safe again."
He'd told Faye once that it was best not to get involved and now he found himself entrenched in the matters of these mortals. He knew what his heart told him to do, that persistent urge inside him to be better than what the gods had made him to be. At the very least it would be one step toward correcting a lifetime of mistakes.
"If you are ready," Kratos pulled a slow breath, heart aching, "Then I will teach you to use this weapon."
He spoke despite the lonely, miserable thing inside him that would rather close itself off to the world. In the absence of his sorrow came a nauseating fear. If he was capable of being gentle, of being kind, then it meant that he always could have been. Why couldn't Lysandra and Calliope have been enough for him to set aside his warmongering ways? They should have been enough . That gnawing, poisonous voice lurked at the edge of his mind.
Pretend to be everything you are not. Protector. Teacher. Friend, It hissed. You cannot change.
"I'm ready," Reidun said. She took a deep breath, gathering her composure. There was some strength to her now as she straightened and wiped her face. Kratos held close to that ache in his heart, the part of himself that remembered what it was like to be human. He maneuvered the knife in Reidun's hands to adjust her grip.
"You can start by holding it correctly."
FAYE
Dawn broke and when Kratos didn't return, Faye went searching. If there was one thing she knew about the god was that he kept to his patterns.
With sharpened focus, Faye opened her hand as if to call the Leviathan to her grip. Faye recognized the feeling of her axe and wherever it was - she knew the god would not be far. But this was different. There was another will besides Leviathan that pulled her focus. It was warm and familiar and Faye felt the insistent tug of it from within her chest. As Faye reached out she felt that other presence reaching back too. Two hands feeling through the dark, searching for each other. She knew what this was, who it was. She'd felt him .
Faye was sure that she hadn't been able to sense him before, not like this. What changed? She followed that feeling from where it emanated within the forest like the steady beat of a heart. When she'd found him she was surprised to find that he wasn't alone.
Kratos and Reidun were circling each other in a small clearing. Reidun held the knife in a reverse grip with her fists guarding her face. Kratos paced around her, fists up and hard eyes set on Reidun. Faye wasn't sure what she was watching at first until the girl sprang from her position toward Kratos. She swung the blade in a wide, sweeping strike aimed for Kratos' abdomen. He pivoted smoothly, face creased in focus, and Reidun's blade met nothing but air. Kratos kicked out his boot and Reidun tripped, tumbling head over feet into the earth. She landed with a sharp gasp as the air punched from her lungs. Kratos stalked over her, looking down on her with his arms crossed.
"Correct your footing," Kratos commented dryly. He leaned and offered his hand to Reidun.
"You're so much faster than me," she wheezed and took his hand.
"Speed is a product of proficiency," Kratos said and hauled her upright. "Give it time and practice."
"Yes, sir."
"Now," he took his position and put his guard up again, "Again."
This was something she'd never seen in Kratos before. It was selfless, freely given, and, as far as Faye knew, not promised through any oath or bargain. It reminded her of a time long ago when Tyr had taught her how to fight. Like Kratos, Tyr had been firm but patient and nurturing. After Tyr Faye thought that there were no more gods capable of kindness.
That incessant voice, the one constantly doubting the god's character, was quiet for once. Seeing him with Reidun, Faye could see now what had changed in Kratos. She could feel it in him like a candle surrounded by endless night. It was hope . A smile found its way to Faye's face. It was an odd thing to smile when so much seemed to be going like shit.
Faye left them be and returned to her duties at camp. She was making rounds on the camp's perimeter when Kratos finally caught up to her. He walked beside her silently for a bit looking his usual grim self but Faye could still sense that warmth radiating from him.
"You were gone longer than usual," she said.
"Hm," he grunted.
"How is the girl?" She might as well not waste either of their time. He seemed surprised that she knew but not entirely shocked or bothered by it.
"Better it seems," he said. "It will take time."
Faye nodded approvingly.
"You can be good at it, you know," she said. Kratos gave her a puzzled glance.
"Good at what?"
"Helping people." She'd meant it as a compliment but he looked away, as if ashamed by what she'd said. She wanted Kratos to know that he was doing a good thing. Maybe he wasn't used to doing very many good things.
"After my family - I didn't know what to do with my pain as a child. No one showed me how, not until I was older." Faye knew from Reidun's perspective how much it meant to have someone be that person for her.
"The one you mentioned before?"
Faye nodded. She liked talking to him like this but it was becoming more difficult the more they got to know each other. And Faye didn't want to lie to Kratos, it didn't feel right. So instead she chose her words carefully without divulging her more sacred secrets. She knew the god had secrets of his own and his reasons for keeping them. Faye could understand that.
"He was a warrior of the other tribe, but he fought for peace between our people."
Kratos took a moment to process that information.
"An enemy," he clarified, confusion written in his stern features. Faye had the sense that the former general thought in very black and white terms - one was either friend or foe.
"Sometimes the only difference between an enemy and a friend is time and circumstance," she said, lingering on that for a moment. "Something he'd taught me."
"What made him different from the others of his kind?"
"He wanted to understand my people. And even though I hated him at first, I wanted to understand him too," she said. Faye had been a young woman when they first met. 'Met' being the kinder, more euphemistic word to describe it. She'd tried to kill him on sight. He was far more skilled and experienced than Faye had been at that age. She didn't understand why he didn't just kill her. She thought she just wanted him dead but what she really wanted was to know why the Aesir slaughtered so many Jotunns. She'd needed some way to make sense of it all and he helped show her the way.
"He was like a father to me," Faye added.
"I take it he did not succeed in brokering a peace between your people," Kratos said.
"Well, I would not be here if he had," she said.
"Why are you here, Kynigos?"
"I should be asking you that." she deflected with a smirk but Kratos didn't take the bait.
"With your skills and this weapon," Kratos hefted Leviathan, "You could seek revenge for your fallen."
Faye remembered a time when she was willing to sacrifice everything for revenge. She had been so young and so full of hate and fury that she could barely sleep or eat. She'd been sharpened by a singular focus and it had driven her to hunt Tyr down. She wanted someone to blame, someone to hurt for all the things that she and her people had suffered. And who better than the god of war himself? Faye was so enraged that Tyr didn't just kill her and she thought surely he was mocking her. Pitiful little Jotunn, he must have thought, a stain to wipe clean from the realms. Just like the other Aesir saw her. But Tyr hadn't been the monster she wanted him to be.
That was her answer.
"I refuse to become the monster they wanted me to be," Faye said. Kratos halted. He was staring off, lost in his own thoughts. Faye tried reaching out to him with her senses again but his walls had so suddenly come back down again.
"We are all monsters in war," he said. His expression darkened with a brutality she'd only seen in him when he was embattled, "The only way you survive is to become what others fear."
Faye turned, confused, realizing that he was actually angry . Deep amber eyes glinted, his rage becoming a living thing tangible in the air between them. She could feel it radiating off him like a blazing fire.
"There are other ways to survive, Kratos."
"Only if you are a coward," he snapped.
Faye bit back a number of ugly things she wanted to say. He was trying to make a fight, trying to antagonize her to lash out. Why did he want her as his enemy? But Faye knew. As long as she was his enemy then she couldn't be his friend or anything else. Faye remembered feeling like she had to shut everything off and turn everyone away because it was the only way to feel safe. A closed heart does not feel pain, true, but it feels neither peace nor happiness either.
"I can't say I know how you feel, Kratos, but I think I understand more than you think."
"Is that so?" he growled. She couldn't blame his rage. To him she was just a puny mortal, her life a whisper compared to his. At least for mortals their pain died when they did. What did she know about the burden of an immortal, heavy heart?
"When all you know is war then peace feels like surrender. I get it. I've been there," she said.
"Something he taught you?"
"No, actually. Made that one up myself," Faye straightened, "Call me a coward but I saw myself going down a path where I knew I would have lost myself to my rage. Revenge is a hollow desire and I'm sure I would have grown tired of it long before it killed me."
Faye couldn't sense what was going on behind those eyes but what she saw in his face looked like heartbreak and maybe that was why he was so enraged. She'd struck a chord somewhere in there and she wished she knew how to help. But she couldn't do anything unless he met her halfway. Faye softened, as hard as it was. He could be a real prick when he wanted to be.
Faye stepped closer to him and he seemed visibly shaken. He stiffened as she came within a breath of him, like just being close to her was enough to set him off.
"I get that you're trying to piss me off but it's not going to work," she said calmly, "I just want to talk to you, that's all."
"Then talk."
"My people had a saying: The one who walks their own path, walks alone. I used to think that it meant that I was physically isolated by my path but I think it means that you're the only one capable of changing your fate."
"And this is your path? Endangering yourself and others on ill-advised adventures trying to be a hero?"
Faye stood her ground even as he was continuing to try to get a rise out of her. He was taking something internal out on her. She had to guess that whatever he was really angry at had little to do with her at all.
"It's the path that I chose. Whoever you were in Hellada isn't who you have to be now," she instinctively reached out and touched his shoulder. "You are free to choose another path, Kratos."
Something changed in him when she'd said that. She could feel a spark of that warmth again, a tiny flicker of hope even as he seemed so lost. He was looking at her with the intensity of the sun burning in those golden eyes. In an uncharacteristic moment of contact he took her hand from his shoulder. His skin burned with unnatural heat as he held onto her like she was the only thing keeping him from being swept away in the current.
"I do not know how else to be," he said. It sounded like an admission, more to himself than to Faye.
"It's okay," she said, remembering exactly what it was like to feel like that. He was like her - different.
Faye's thoughts were cut short by a jarring shiver through the air, a ripple echoing outwards from the direction of the clan encampment. The dissonant energy alerted Faye's senses and alarm bells were sent ringing across her mind. She swung around, the hairs on her arms and neck prickling.
Without question, Kratos readied Leviathan in his grip.
"Something's wrong." Faye's heartbeat was pounding hard against her sternum. Frost curled up the edge of Leviathan's blade as Kratos waited for her direction. She could feel that strange heat radiating from him as they shifted toward battle-readiness.
Faye focused her senses. There was shouting, the shuffle of feet, an exchange of blows. A severity settled in her composure, shoulders tense, eyes sharpened. She took off at a full sprint with Kratos following close at her heels.
Faye's attention raked the forest for signs of threats, beasts or otherwise. With her feet pounding the sodden earth, Faye listened to the faint whisper of the trees.
" Hunger ," they warned. Hunger.
Adrenaline spiked in Faye's bloodstream, sharpening her focus with cold surety. A large number of clans folk had formed a mob and Faye could parcel out words from the roar of voices.
"Rotten filth!" some shouted. "Whoreson!"
The people had circled around some brawlers. The shouting and jeering was at a fever pitch and Faye's senses flooded with white-hot rage of the frenzied mob. Then she saw it - a rope fashioned into a noose hanging from the branch of a nearby tree.
The people at the outer edge of the crowd noticed Faye and Kratos' approach and dispersed. Kratos didn't need to push his way through the crowd. The clansfolk already afforded him a wide enough berth as it was. It was an instinctual kind of fear, like how all things are born to fear the unknown. Most people fear things that they do not understand.
Faye rushed close behind Kratos as he carved a path through. Two large men that Faye recognized as Sten and Hallr were beating on another man. Faye didn't know this man, but she could parcel out from the shouting that he was named Ivar. Ivar's frame was lean with hunger, his face thin and made of sharp angles. Kratos put his body between the two men and Ivar.
"What is the meaning of this?" Kratos boomed.
The shouting fell to a hush, their excitement replaced with fear. The smart ones were scattering back to their tents with the day's entertainment dispersed.
"Get out of here!" Faye barked at the ones lingering at the fringes of the dwindling mob. She was grabbing people by the collars of their tunics and shoving out of the way. Faye could stand the glaring looks and the curses hurled at her but she wouldn't have them making a show of this.
Hallr and Sten snarled at Kratos as if he'd come between wolves and their next meal. Hallr and Sten paced around, panting hard with manic breaths. Sten drew his arm across his forehead to wipe a trail of blood and sweat.
"This doesn't concern you, freak ," Sten sneered. Faye didn't need to feel Kratos to know that he was seething. He glowered down at the man.
"Explain yourselves," Kratos demanded.
"That worthless dog is a thief," Sten pointed at Ivar.
Faye slipped between them to Ivar and knelt to inspect his wounds. His face was a mottled mess of bruises and swelling, cut and bleeding in some places. He flinched away from her at first, unsure of her intentions.
"It's okay." Faye sheathed her dagger and held up her hands as if she were calming a skittish horse. "Tell me what happened."
Ivar was shaking, lips trembling, barely able to speak.
"Ivar is serving a sentence to my family. My father mercifully chose labor rather than the end of a rope," Hallr spoke up, raising his voice so others would hear. "And how did this snake repay his generosity? By taking what didn't belong to him!" Hallr spit. He spoke more to the shrinking crowd than to Faye and Kratos, attempting to stir up a mob again.
Faye turned over her shoulder, a snarl on her lips.
"And just what are you accusing this man of taking that it should cost him his life?" she growled. There was a proper way to dispense punishment for crimes, but this was just cruelty for its own sake.
"He was supposed to be storing a supply of venison but we found him running off with it for himself."
"It wasn't me!" Ivar bleated. "I swear!"
"You lying sack of shit!" Sten advanced a step to get at Ivar but Kratos blocked his path.
"Stand. Down," Kratos rumbled as he came to tower over Sten and Hallr. Faye could hear that rage inside the god pulling against its leash. The two men's restraint was thinning as it was. She watched their hands tighten to fists, veins in their necks pulsing, pupils dilating. They wouldn't be held off each other for long.
Faye turned to Ivar and snaked her hand up his arm, gripping his by the elbow. She fixed her gaze on Ivar's wide brown eyes and opened up that well inside her. That power residing within rushed through her veins like a warm current.
"Tell me what happened," she said, opening her senses to Ivar. She shuddered with the surge of his emotions as they flooded her. He was terrified, confused, desperate, and humiliated. She felt his feelings were as strong as if they were her own. The pain was overwhelming. She winced, eyes stinging with tears.
"Speak quickly." She wouldn't be able to hold onto it for long.
"I left this morning to forage." He sounded dazed as he recalled the memory. "I heard something in the forest. I was scared. I dropped my basket and ran."
"What did you see?" Faye gripped his arm tight as if she could squeeze the answer from him. Her head felt as if it was going to split. Ivar shook his head, tears clearing tracks down his bloodied face.
"I didn't see anything," he whimpered, "When I returned the larder was empty."
Faye felt his fear entwined with complete sincerity. He was telling the truth or what he truly believed was the truth.
"Did you speak to anyone? Can anyone vouch for your absence?" Faye pressed. Ivar's face fell and he shook his head and Faye's heart sank with his.
"They were all asleep when I left," he said, defeated. The odds were stacked against his story and I didn't leave Faye many avenues to pursue. But he was telling the truth. That, at least, she knew that for certain. She put a hand on his shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze.
"I believe you," Faye reassured him. Ivar let loose a shaky breath, clutching Faye. She could feel a tentative relief settling over him, easing some of his pain.
"Thank you, thank you ," he sobbed quietly. Faye let him go with a sharp breath. The connection severed and the flood of emotions staunched. Faye's feelings were once again her own. She flexed her hand, recovering herself.
She stood and turned to the men. Kratos was watching her intently. He looked between her and Ivar, his jaw tight. His expression was an equal mix of concern and confusion.
"There will be no beating. No hanging," Faye snarled at the men, "Not until I've looked into the matter."
"The sentence has already been given," Hallr said. Faye stepped into his space, startling him back as step.
"On whose authority?" she fumed, biting back her impulse to pummel him into the mud. They wanted someone to blame, someone to pile the weight of their misfortunes on. The only thing that would sate their rage would be someone dancing at the end of that noose regardless of guilt or innocence.
"Revna's," Hallr answered indignantly. Faye's lip twitched, her mind racing and her heartbeat thundering in her ears. She turned her back on the two men and took close counsel with Kratos, keeping her voice low.
"I want this man unharmed," she said, shivering with rage. "Bind him if you must but keep the others away. I will have words with Revna."
Faye could see the muscles in his jaw working. He knew something was going on that she hadn't told him about. Shit , as if he needed another reason not to trust her. She'd deal with it later. She swallowed hard.
"I'll explain later. Just…Please." Faye knew she was asking too much of him again and that this went beyond the terms of their bargain.
"You had better," he said, "Go."
Faye tore back the fur hanging over the entrance of Revna's tent.
"Revna," Faye demanded the old woman's attention. The elder had her back to Faye as she poured over a pile of maps and manifest logs spread across a table. She seemed unbothered by Faye's intrusion.
"You wanted to speak with me?" she ran a thin finger down the length of a parchment with a hard squint. Her aloof demeanor set Faye's nerves on fire. Faye stormed around the table to face Revna, planting both fists on the table to brace her wrath.
"Since when is petty thievery a death sentence?"
"Dire circumstances, dire consequences," Revna did not look up from her work. "We cannot afford thieves in our midst as we cross the mountain."
"I promised that I would get your people home unharmed , did I not?"
Revna pursed her lips.
"You did."
"Then allow me to conduct a proper investigation before you hang a man for a crime he didn't commit," Faye seethed.
"What for?"
Faye pounded the table hard with her fist, drawing Revna's eyes up from her parchments. She looked tired and Faye could feel the exhaustion pulling through her gaze.
" What for !?" she roared, "Do you often murder your people on mere suspicion alone?"
Revna squeezed her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose as if the matter was nothing more than a pesky headache for her.
"This journey has worn thin on their spirits and my people have grown restless. Starving dogs serve no master," Revna said coldly. Faye dizzied with fury, hot blood swirling her vision.
"So you would kill him for sport?"
"That's the thing about dogs. Sometimes you have to give them something to sink their teeth into."
The table creaked under Faye's fists.
"You're no different from the very monsters that you're running from," she snarled.
"I must do what is best for all of my people," Revna said, "Not just the useless drunks."
"And does a shepherd abandon one of their flock when it is lost?!" Faye was shouting, sure that anyone across camp could hear her, "Where is the justice in that?!"
"Tell my people that when they begin to starve on that mountain," Revna said, "You can't fill a belly with honor and justice."
"Killing him won't recover the supplies. If you allow me to investigate, I will deliver your thief. It was most likely an animal that's taken the food back to its den for wintering."
"The order has already been given. If I retract then how will my people hold any faith in my authority?" Revna questioned. "Whose guidance will they turn to when the really hard decisions must be made? Yours?"
You know nothing about hard decisions , Faye wanted to roar.
"So it's politics then?" Faye spat. How many of her own people were subject to pointless slaughter for politics ? She pushed away from the table, nearly knocking it over. "I'm not in the business of working for murders, Revna."
"You gave me your word." The old woman's eyes screwed to slits. Faye came around the table with her finger in Revna's face.
"I gave you my word that I would get everyone home. Even the 'useless drunks'," Faye said, every word laced with venom. But she couldn't leave it there. "I have lived a very, very long time and I have never once met a single being that was useless. Perhaps if you and your people had shown the man a single scrap of kindness he wouldn't have turned to his vices."
Revna looked Faye over, confusion written in her wrinkled features. Faye realized that the way she had spoken was unbefitting for someone who only looked to be in her late-thirties.
"Give me a day. Or I will have to reconsider our arrangement," Faye said with fire in her throat.
"Is that a threat?"
"I don't make threats, Revna. I make promises." Faye gathered her composure and leaned close. "How desperate do you think your people will become when they're stranded on that mountain with nothing but creatures far hungrier than you are?"
Revna's jaw worked, a withered finger tapped the parchments. But Faye felt the elder relent.
"You have until daybreak tomorrow." Revna dismissed Faye with a wave of her hand. Faye's lip twitched in a snarl.
"So be it."