Little Lovely Moments

God of War and all associated characters and interpretations are property of Sony Santa Monica. Kingdom Hearts and all associated characters are property of Disney and Square Enix.

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Kratos opened the door leading outside and almost startled at the sight of Jörmungandr, far larger than Kratos remembered it being—he wondered if it would ever stop growing—hovering above the bridge of Tyr's temple. It was staring down at the raised dais in the center, where Atreus, Mimir, Sora, and Lúnda stood, his son shouting in the Jotnar's language at the World Serpent.

When Kratos made his way under the dais and called the platform down, Jörmungandr replied, and perhaps simply it was the sheer proximity, but the very ground shook with its loud, guttural words. By the time he rode the platform up, the World Serpent had finished speaking, its golden eyes briefly falling on Kratos before returning to Sora.

Sora, hands covering his ears and a wide smile on his face, leaned close to Atreus. "What did he say?!" he shouted.

Atreus jerked back. "You don't have to shout." Sora sheepishly dropped his arms. "He says he had no idea that other worlds existed and finds the idea downright crazy." Atreus looked up at the serpent with a skeptical expression. "Which is weird, considering the fact that Thor sent him eons back in time during Ragnarök."

"Oh, he's time-travelled too?" Sora remarked, far too casually for even Kratos's liking.

"Long story," Atreus replied. "Or maybe not. But it's not relevant right now. Anything else you wanted to ask?"

Sora stared up at Jörmungandr. "Can…Can I ride on his head for a bit?"

That brought them all up short—even Lúnda, who'd been surreptitiously measuring Sora's furs. "You want to ride atop the World Serpent's head?" Mimir asked, utterly baffled.

Sora blushed and clasped his hands behind his head. "I want a good story to tell my friends when I get back home, sue me."

Atreus goggled at him. "And travelling to another world and fighting a Primordial Being isn't a good one?"

"Those are all things I've done before," Sora replied off-handedly, staring up at Jörmungandr. "But riding on top of a creature as large as an entire world—one that isn't trying to kill me? Now that's a story!"

Atreus tried to splutter out a reply, but in the end, he just turned back to the World Serpent and haltingly relayed Sora's request.

The massive creature leaned back with wide eyes. But after a long moment, it lowered its head level to the dais. It let out a grunt and moved its head in a 'come on' gesture.

Sora let loose a joyous shout and leapt high into the air, flipping twice before landing on top of Jörmungandr's head. "Thanks!" he said as he pat the serpent's head. The World Serpent growled out a reply, and slowly swam around the Lake of the Nine, Sora laughing the whole way.

"It's official," Mimir deadpanned. "The lad's insane."

Atreus glared mulishly at Sora. "I didn't know Jörmungandr gave rides," he grumbled.

"Obviously, you never asked," Mimir replied.

While Atreus alternated between childish jealousy and half-hearted excuses, Kratos felt a tap on his arm. He looked down to see Lúnda starting up at him with a hopeful expression. "Say, Kratos, you and Sora are friends, right?"

"So he says."

"Wonderful!" She settled into an almost coy pose. "Do you think you can convince him to let me have his weapon for a spell? Long enough to figure out what makes it tick?"

"No," Kratos immediately replied. He did not know how a Keyblade was made, but he did not doubt that Lúnda could tease out those secrets and craft her own. And the last he needed was copies of Keyblades distributed throughout their world.

"Oh, come on!" Lúnda whined. "Can't you do this one teensy favor for your favorite gal?" Kratos arched a brow down at her; on top of Lúnda not even coming close to his 'favorite gal', as she put it, the last time he'd done her a favor he'd been utterly humiliated. "Please, you wonderful slab of drool-worthy muscles?"

"Lúnda!" Atreus called out in disgust.

"Don't 'Lúnda' me!" The dwarf shouted back. "I'll sink to lows even Brok would balk at to get my hands on the weapon!"

"No, you will not," Kratos sternly replied. Lúnda flinched at his tone and looked up at him with trepidation. "Do not bother Sora about the Keyblade, Lúnda. It is beyond any weapon within the Realms and the world at large. Tampering with it could lead to unmitigated disaster, and I will not stand for it." He leaned down to stare her in the eyes. "Am I clear?"

Lúnda sighed deeply. "…Clear as crystal," she eventually grumbled. She stepped away from them and sat against the wall with a huff.

"You don't need to be so harsh, Father," Atreus said as he observed Lúnda. "Lúnda won't let anything happen."

"It's not Lúnda he's worried about, lad," Mimir said. "We all know she won't bring anyone any harm with the weapons she makes. But, as Sindri and Brok could attest with Mjolnir and Thor, she can't control what the people she hands the weapons over to do."

Atreus hummed. "I guess…" Before he could say anything else, Jörmungandr returned with Sora from their brief trip across the lake.

Sora leapt off the World Serpent with enviable ease, landing with a spring in his step. He waved enthusiastically at the giant snake. "That was fun! Let's do it again sometime!" Jörmungandr huffed and sank beneath the lake.

Sora turned to them all with a wide smile. "You guys know anything else we can do?" He frowned when he caught sight of Lúnda. "Hey, what's wrong with her?"

"She was chastised by Kratos. Rather like a child, in fact," Mimir replied.

Sora blinked. "Well, why'd you do that?"

Kratos considered his reply. He settled for the truth. "I merely told her to stop bothering you about letting her have the Keyblade to examine."

"Oh." The young man's face scrunched in confusion. "Is that all?"

"The dwarves of this realm can be very particular about crafting things, Sora," Mimir stated. "Preventing them doing so is…Well, I wouldn't quite call it abuse, but it can be seen as cruel."

Sora crossed his arms. "Well, that sounds bad, but I couldn't leave her the Keyblade even if I wanted to. If I got too far away it'd just vanish and return to me."

"You could just stay by her while she tinkers with it." Kratos levelled a stern glare at his son, who held his hands up and shrugged.

"Yeah, that sounds boring," was Sora's blunt reply. He walked over to Lúnda and crouched down beside her. "I'm sorry Lúnda, but I can't just give you the Keyblade." He jostled her shoulder. "But hey, how about this?" He reached into his pockets and pulled out some jewelry. "I've got these things—they've got all sorts of different enchantments on them. Wanna take a look?"

Lúnda tried to maintain her sorrow, but the excited light in her eyes betrayed that mercilessly. "Well, I can be persuaded," she drawled as she hurriedly took the items from his hands and stuffed them in her pockets.

Sora chucked. "Glad to hear it." He rose and turned back to the rest of them. "Hey, I saw a couple villages with people while I was riding Jörmungandr—real big ones next to the coastline. Are they friendly?"

"Yup!" Atreus said with a smile. "The biggest one is where my friend Skjöldr lives. He's cool, really come into his own since Ragnarök."

Sora nodded. "Mimir mentioned this Ragnarök thing yesterday while we were talking—what was it exactly?"

Mimir chuckled bitterly. "That's a rather long story, my friend."

Sora shrugged. "If we're walking to that village, we've got time." He arched a brow at Kratos.

"Let us make haste," he replied, gesturing for everyone to get on the platform. It had been a few weeks since he'd made an appearance in one of the mortal villages anyway.

When they reached the bridge, Sora turned to Mimir. "So, Ragnarök?"

Mimir cleared his throat. "Well, the name itself refers to the prophesized war, and end, of Asgard. A war Odin—if you'll recall him from earlier—sought to manipulate towards his own ends."

"Oh!" Sora let out a breath. "You guys had one of those crazy old men looking to manipulate fate too, huh?"

Kratos could sense the sheer interest coming off Mimir in waves. He grunted and picked the talking head out of his son's hands. "Mimir, you said you would speak of Ragnarök, so speak of it." He attached him to his belt. "Sora, please, do not distract Mimir."

"I can try," the Keyblade wielder blithely replied.

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"…And then Freyr, sadly, lost his life holding back Ragnarök so the rest of us could escape with our lives."

Sora hummed as Mimir finished the tale, staring up at the sky through the trees. "So," he said after a long moment. "That's why Sinmara wanted to kill you."

"It is," Kratos somberly replied.

Atreus took a deep breath. "I'm sure if we could just talk to her—"

"It will not work," Kratos gently cut his son off. "In the end, regardless of the reason, we did kill Surtr."

His son sighed. "It's like Freya all over again, except worse cause we were never friends." Sora let out an inquisitive grunt. "Oh yeah, you wouldn't know. See, a few years ago—"

"Hold," Kratos called out, holding up his fist and stilling all words and movement. They were very close to Skjöldr's village now, and if the mortals there had maintained their vigilance, then that would mean…

He scanned the treetops and was pleased to see Atreus already staring at the exact spot he was searching for. Sora too narrowed his eyes and hummed. "Is that a…treehouse?"

"Less a house and more a shack, I'd say," Atreus replied. At that moment, a rope dropped down to the forest floor, and a woman in a heavy cloak and a bow in hand rappelled down.

She fell to a knee before Kratos. "General," she said reverently.

Kratos could admit that a deep, ancient part of himself was pleased at the reverence the mortals showed him following Ragnarök. But that was not a part of himself he could indulge. The future Faye saw, the one she wanted him to see come true…It would not be brought about due to such base feelings.

"I've already said you need not kneel before me,"—he scanned the woman's face—"Astrid."

She rose with a soft nod. "Of course. Forgive me, General." Kratos huffed. The Aesir had really done a number on the mortals of Midgard. Not even the people of Greece were so reverent. Although, the Olympians chose favorite cities and set their citizens against each other in proxy wars, so perhaps that wasn't a fair comparison.

Astrid stretched her arm our towards her village. "Will you be gracing us with your presence?" She shifted her gaze to Atreus and Mimir expectantly, only briefly pausing at Sora, who waved.

"We shall be visiting," Kratos replied, bringing her attention back to him. "You may go and give your people notice."

"At once!" she replied with a blinding smile. As she turned and hurried away, he heard her mumble something about 'The first in weeks' and 'showing off to those snobs' and Kratos realized that he would have to make visits to the other nearby villages. He didn't completely alter his invasion plans for Ragnarök just to have the mortals kill each other in envy of his supposed favor.

Atreus let loose a low whistle. "I don't think I'll ever get used to seeing that."

"You'd better, lad," Mimir said with a chuckle. "You father's got the mortals of Midgard wrapped around his finger, but once you find all the giants and get Jotunheim back up and running again, I'm sure they'll put you on a pedestal equal to your father's." Atreus blushed stammered out a half-hearted denial.

Sora hummed and clasped his hands behind his head as they walked forward once more. "What's it like, being a god?"

"Have you not met a version of Hades and…Zeus?" Kratos asked, manage to keep a clear voice as he spoke the names of his dead uncle and father.

"Yeah, but Hades keeps trying to kill me and friends, and I only met Zeus after saving his life from the Titans and following that he was busy doing damage control." He arched a brow at Kratos. "Killing people and cleaning up messes can't be it, right?"

Mimir let loose an ugly snort. "That's about the only thing most gods get up to, lad."

"Sounds rough."

"Do you know any other gods?" Atreus asked.

Sora tilted his head to the side. "…Hercules, but he might not really count."

That brought Kratos up short. "You know Hercules as well?"

"Yeah!" Sora replied with a soft grin. "I've met a lot of people during my adventures across the worlds, but Herc's one of the ones I've grown closest too." He held his left hand over his chest. "He helped me a lot, recently. In finding out what it means to really be strong, and how to use that strength." Sora shifted his gaze over to Kratos, his unasked question obvious.

Kratos hummed, thinking of his half-brother—something he could admit he hadn't done in years. His was one of the death's he did regret. Truly, he had no quarrel with the uplifted demigod. Kratos would have easily let the man go and live another day. But in the end—be it his own insecurities egging him on, Hera's goading, or the residual energies of the evils within Pandora's Box pushing him—Hercules sought a fight with Kratos. And he died at Kratos's hands.

So, he simply answered. "I've met him." Sora didn't care for the short, clipped response, but let the matter lie as the village's walls came into view.

The gates swung open, and they were immediately met with a crowd of bowing mortals. Save for one tall young man at the front of the crowd.

"Atreus!" Skjöldr called out, either uncaring or ignorant of the disapproving and fearful stares his fellow villagers sent his way. "Long time no see!"

"Skjöldr!" Atreus called back, rushing forward, and pulling his friend into a short hug. "How've you been?"

"Been good." He turned and gestured to the village. "Village is thriving, the people are happy, and I can't find a reason to complain. Well, other than the occasional sudden appearance by our giant serpentine neighbor scaring all the fish away."

Atreus tugged at the faint wisps of blonde patchy blonde fuzz on his friend's face. "You sure you got nothing else to complain about?"

Skjöldr just laughed. "At least I can grow a beard!" Atreus scowled at that but was unable to keep the smile off his face.

Finally, Skjöldr turned to Kratos and the others. He straightened and cleared his throat. "Kratos, Mimir, it's good to see you again."

"You as well," Mimir answered for both of them.

With a smile, Skjöldr turned to Sora. "And I'm sorry, but I don't think we've met."

"We definitely haven't," Sora said with a laugh. "Name's Sora!"

"Sora," Skjöldr repeated. "Doesn't sound Aseir. Are you from Vanaheim?"

"Oh, I'm not a god. I'm, uh, mortal, like you guys," Sora replied. That started a steady murmur among the villagers, many of them looking at Sora in a new light. Skjöldr was very much an outlier among the mortals of Midgard, being able to stand beside gods without flinching. And then comes Sora, strolling in with Atreus and Kratos themselves, the gods the mortals put above the rest, without a care in the world.

"So…" Sora drawled. "What do you guys do for fun around here?"

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Atreus cocked his head to the side as he watched a bunch of village children lead Sora to the end of the docks, fishing poles and buckets in their hands. "You guys think fishing is fun?"

Skjöldr scoffed, not looking up from the letter he was reading. "What, too mundane for your godly sensibilities?" His friend nodded and closed the letter, handing it off to a man beside him. "It's good. Send it off to Anders's village with our fastest runner—want those walls built before the anniversary."

"Yes, milord!" the man said and turned on his heel.

"Milord, huh?" Atreus said as he followed Skjöldr to a rack of fishnets and the women making them.

"Hey, someone had to take charge," Skjöldr said with a huff, inspecting the nets. "Why not have it be the guy that's friend with gods, giants, and godly giants?" He frowned at the net and gently pat the eldest netmaker's shoulder. "Hilda, I thought we were moving to that new style of knot?"

"It's too time-consuming," the old woman said with a gap-toothed scowl. "My lord."

Skjöldr crossed his arms. "It's more time now, but they won't fray as quickly."

"All nets break down eventually," the woman countered. "The only difference is in how long those absurd knots take to make."

"The difference"—Skjöldr stressed—"comes in the time spent making new nets, or new weaving projects, as opposed to salvaging and repairing the broken ones on a frighteningly regular basis."

As Skjöldr and the elderly woman debated the merits of their preferred methods—with other weavers offering their opinions here-and-there—Atreus was reminded of the time he followed Odin during a 'regular' workday. Both moved and spoke with affable ease, but the difference came with the people they interacted with. The people Odin spoke to, the dwarves especially, held a steady undercurrent of fear. They knew that if they displeased Odin, they would face his wrath. The women speaking with Skjöldr, while still respectful, were much more relaxed. Atreus was certain that no one in Asgard would have been comfortable debating with Odin like this over something as mundane as netmaking, at least.

Eventually, the old woman sniffed. "Very well, my lord. We'll finish these batches and then move on to the new knot style tomorrow."

"That's all I ask," Skjöldr said with a smile. "Thanks, Hilda. Ladies." Skjöldr waved goodbye, a few of the younger women blushing under his gaze.

Atreus smirked and elbowed his friend after they'd walked a fair distance from the weavers. "I see that leadership's made you a desirable man."

Skjöldr playfully shoved him away. "Piss off. I never let it get that far anyway."

"Ah!" Atreus leaned close and draped a hand over Skjöldr's shoulders. "I take it Thrúd 's the jealous type?"

"Ha!" His friend snorted mirthlessly. "How can she feel jealous over someone she's not interested in?"

Atreus's smile shrank. "Wait, what?" When last he left the Realms, Skjöldr had been making some pretty good progress with Thrúd. She'd started laughing at his jokes, at least. He led them over to a bench, sitting them both down. "I thought things were going well between you two?"

Skjöldr sighed and slumped in his seat. "Ah, I don't know. I thought so too, but I just, I don't know, feel like she's been trying to keep me at arm's length lately. Course, that might be my fault. But is it really so unreasonable to—ugh, never mind. Relationships are so messy, you know?" He quickly shook his head. "What am I saying, of course you don't. You and Angrboda are practically textbook romance."

"Hey, we have problems!" Atreus protested—though he wondered why he was getting defensive over it.

Skjöldr took a breath, only to raggedly sigh and deflate. "Ah, forget it. I don't need to bog you down with my crap." He perked up and pat Atreus's knee. "Instead, how about you help me convince your dad to join in on the celebrations this time around!"

Atreus rolled his eyes. "Father doesn't do parties, Skjöldr."

"I'm not saying he needs to get drunk and dance the night away—though I would pay all the money in the world to see that. Just, you know, show up and be there." He jerked his head over to where Father and Mimir were speaking with a group of elderly villagers—well, Mimir was speaking. Father just nodded and shook his head where appropriate. "People know he cares for our survival and well-being, and he makes the odd appearance and offers advice for training, hunting, or architecture, but he's not really…present, you know?"

"Oh, I could tell you stories," Atreus commiserated. It took his mother dying for Father to willingly spend time alone with Atreus. Of course, now knowing of the man's past and fears, he understood why he'd been so reluctant.

Still, it sucked.

Not wanting to dwell on the rocky start to his and his father's relationship, he asked, "Have you thought about extending an invitation to the other Realms? Or heading to another to join their celebrations?"

"I've been tempted. But us mortals are still smarting over the fact that the Aesir pretty much set us up to die against all the elves and Vanir and undead during Ragnarök. I know, I know." He held up a hand to forestall Atreus's protests. "Odin was behind all that, but still. We were hurt by both sides, and the wounds are still fresh for a lot of us."

Atreus hummed. "Some forced interaction might do everyone some good."

"Maybe," Skjöldr replied. "But I can tell you we won't be the ones to extend the offer first." He frowned. "We're not going to grovel to anyone."

Atreus winced at the hard tone in his friend's voice. There were all sorts of weird political…stuff to that statement that Atreus had no desire to delve into. He'd rather fight Garm again. Well, probably not, but still.

"Sure…Maybe I can talk with Freya and—hey, is it getting darker?" As soon as he said that lightning flashed across the darkening sky, and thunder boom all around them.

Skjöldr both perked up and deflated further. "Oh, I know that sound."

A figure wreathed in blue lightning soared down from the sky. It stopped right in the middle of the village, the lightning vanishing into sparks to reveal Thrúd Thorsdottir, Valkyrie-in-training and current owner of the legendary hammer Mjolnir. She hooked the weapon onto her belt and looked around.

"Hello!" she greeted cheerfully. It said a lot of her visits across the realms that no one so much as batted an eye at her entrance, at most giving a respectful nod and brief 'Welcome' in reply. She did share a brief nod with Father and Mimir before she settled her gaze on Atreus and Skjöldr.

Atreus could practically feel the tumult of emotions that passed through her as she stared at Skjöldr, who stared back. The moment passed, however, and she quickly fixed Atreus a friendly grin. "Loki!" she called as she strode forward. "Glad to see you haven't been eaten. Again."

Atrues stood up with a groan. "That happened one time! And I wasn't eaten, just trapped in a monster's jaws."

Skjöldr still in his seat, chuckled. "From what I recall you were halfway down its throat before you had the sense to dig an arrow into its uvula and force it to puke you back out."

"Traitor!" Atreus hissed, lightly kicking his friend's shin. Skjöldr kicked back, and soon a light dust cloud had picked up in the wake of their 'battle'.

Thrúd laughed and pulled Atreus into a hug—denying him his victory. "It's good to see you," she said.

"You too," Atreus said, returning the embrace. He pulled back, a sly grin on his face as he turned to Skjöldr. But it died in the face of his friend's awkward expression. One mirrored by Thrúd.

"Hey there," the mortal man said with slight cough.

"Hey yourself," the Aesir goddess replied, tugging at her collar. Neither said anything else, just staring at each other like statues.

Atreus stared at the two with wide eyes. Wow…He would never complain to anyone about relationship troubles ever again.

Finally, Thrúd jerked her head away and looked at Atreus with fake cheer. "So, what's all this about some stranger from another land that's got your dad in a fit?"

"His name's Sora, and he's from another world, actually." Atreus rolled his eyes at her quizzical stare. "Ask Mimir, I don't want to get into it." The whole concept of other worlds still confused and, honestly, terrified, him.

"Could always ask him yourself." Skjöldr said, rising from his seat. "He's righ—Where the hell did he go?" Atreus whirled around at the alarm in his friend's voice to find the children Sora had followed to the docks. Only the children, who were staring down at the water, their fishing poles all lying on the ground beside them.

Skjöldr strode forward, Atreus and Thrúd close behind. "Ulf!" he called out. The tallest boy in the group turned around. "What's going on? Where's Sora?"

"In the lake," Ulf replied simply, turning back to the water.

"The hell do you mean—"

A massive splash of water at the end of the dock cut him off. When the water cleared, they could all see Sora bobbing in the water, a large fish held in his hands. "See!" he said to the children. "Told you guys this was faster." He noticed Atreus and the others as he dumped the fish in a bucket." Oh, hey Atreus, Skjöldr! Who's your friend?"

"Thrúd Thorsdottir," Skjöldr off-handedly replied. "What are you doing?"

"Fishing," Sora replied, before diving back under the water. Skjöldr stared blankly at the lake before turning to Ulf with a fierce look. The boy just shrugged.

Sora returned to the surface seconds later, this time with two small fish in either hand. "Careful with these—their fins are pretty boney," he said as he passed the fish into a bucket. The children all nodded as if he'd told them secrets of the universe.

"Hold on a second!" Skjöldr exclaimed before Sora could dive underwater again. "What're you—Why're you—"

"Pole and line fishing is nice, but boring," Sora replied to the unfinished questions. "Would have liked to do spear fishing—haven't done that in years—but the shoreline is too muddy for that."

Skjöldr blinked. "And diving underwater to catch fish with your bare hands is a better pastime?"

"It's the best!" Sora proclaimed. "Me and my friends used to do it all the time back on the islands."

"Islands?" Atreus repeated.

"Destiny Islands," Sora said, voice taking on a melancholic tone. "The place I grew up in." He shifted his gaze to the water, a frown creasing his face. But before anyone could say anything else, his eyes lit up. "Ooh! I think I just saw an eel!" he exclaimed as he dove down once more.

Skjöldr turned to Atreus and Thrúd with a baffled stare. "So long as he's having fun, I guess."

"Yeah," Atreus replied, unable to get the sad look on Sora's face out of his mind.

/+/+/+/+/

They ended up staying at the village for a midday meal. A lot of fish, as provided by Sora. He'd tried to cook his bounty, but the villagers wouldn't have it. He was a guest, after all.

After the meal, Skjöldr had to leave to visit another village about the celebrations for the anniversary of Ragnarök. Atreus believed it was less that and more not wanting to spend another moment awkwardly dancing around Thrúd, but he wouldn't say anything.

Now, he, his father, Mimir, and Thrúd sat in a loose circle near the rest of the food, staring at Sora as he performed all sorts of intricate flips and tricks for the children of the village.

"Seriously?" Thrúd snorted. "This is the guy you think can kill us all?"

"Looks can be deceiving, lass," Mimir said with slight reproach. "And don't forget, he did completely shut off Niflheim and Muspelheim from the World Tree."

"Yeah, but Freya said that was an accident." She leaned back waved her hand dismissively. "Sounds like it's that weapon of his that's the main concern. A weapon that he doesn't have that much control over. A weapon he probably didn't watch an expert use for all their life in the hopes of one day wielding it."

Atreus rolled his eyes. "Yes Thrúd, you've gotten very good at using Mjolnir over the years—you don't need to try to put someone else down to hype yourself up for us. Save that for Skjöldr."

She immediately blushed, her face going redder than the lone streak in her hair. "What?! Why would I do that? Why would I care what he thinks about me?" She started playing with her hair. "I mean, has he been talking about us? You have to tell me if he's been talking about us, Loki, we're friends."

At the end of her rant, Father grunted and rose to his feet. As he walked away, Mimir cried out, "Kratos, wait! Take me with you!" Alas, his pleas were ignored. He smacked his lips and nervously darted his gaze to Thrúd. "So, having relationship troubles, lass?"

"Yeah, no." She scoffed. "I don't need advice from an old, disembodied head."

Mimir huffed. "Well, this 'old, disembodied head' just so happens to be in a healthy, loving relationship with your direct superior. So, you really could do a lot worse, couldn't you?"

Thrúd made to blow him off, only to pause, and lean forward with interest. "Alright, it's like this. My mom's been getting on my case about how I'm technically the heir to the Aesir—you know, assuming Freya doesn't have a kid."

"A highly unlikely event," Mimir stated.

"Right, so my mom's started talking about my future. My…prospects."

"Ah." Mimir hummed. "Well, considering the disaster that was the last marriage I brokered, I don't think I'm the right person to talk to about that particular topic." Thrúd and Atreus winced. 'Disaster' was putting it lightly. "But what's the real problem here? The idea of marriage itself?"

"No," Thrúd immediately replied.

Atreus shifted in his seat. "So, it's the person you're going to marry then?"

"Not exactly…I mean, my mom's not pressuring me or anything. If I didn't want to at least get serious with someone, she wouldn't have brought it up.

"You mean Skjöldr?" Atreus asked. Thrúd just groaned and sunk her head in her hands. Atreus, having never understood the idea of marrying someone you didn't love for the sake of alliances, turned helplessly to Mimir.

The talking head let loose a long sigh. "Ah, lass, affairs of the heart are never easy."

"Wow, you really are the smartest man alive," Thrúd sneered.

Before Mimir could make a snide retort, Sora plopped down beside Atreus. "Hey guys! Any fish left?" He sobered at the serious look on Thrúd's face. "Oh, what's wrong?"

"You don't need to know," Thrúd said with a sigh.

"Now hold on, lass," Mimir cut in. "Sora is a wholly unaffiliated third-party. Sometimes a neutral perspective is what's needed to solve these sorts of things."

Thrúd sent Mimir a dubious look, which grew even more skeptical in the face of Sora's indulgent smile. She groaned. "Fine! There's this guy—"

"Go to him," Sora immediately said. He turned to the table. "So, these fish are free to grab, right?" They all stared at Sora in shock. "…Ok, no go on the fish."

"'Go to him'" Thrúd incredulously repeated. "You don't even know who I'm talking about!"

"Sure, but I've seen this before." Sora leaned back and clasped his hands behind his head. "You want to be with someone, but stupid things are in the way. It's against the law, it's not the right time, you lied to them, they're focused on their job, you'll die if you stay on land, someone's trying to manipulate you into becoming a monster."

"I'm sorry, what were those last things?"

"But that's not what's really matters," Sora continued past Mimir's question. He stared at Thrúd. "What matters is what you want. And if you want to be with the person you love, don't let others hold you back."

Thrúd jerked back. "Woah now, 'love'? I-I mean I like Skjöldr, but I don't know if I love him."

Sora fixed her with a sad smile. "Don't you wanna find out?" Thrúd fell silent, after which he grabbed some fish and went on his way.

/+/+/+/+/

A/N: If Sora's advice seems way too simple, bear in mind he's half-Disney.