So I changed the title from God of What? (sorry for any confusion) because I might have a sequel in mind and want to use the title for that I think. So I went with the title Blood Upon the Sands from a previous chapter since this story is in Egypt and it fits. Also there will be 33 chapters so with this update we are 1/3rd of the way through! Enjoy-
Chapter 11: The Buried Heart
It was only a few steps, but she still ran. Once Atreus had told her Kratos had woken up how could she not? She reached the doorway and sighed in relief. Kratos' golden eyes stared up at her as he laid in the bed. After two days laying on the table unconscious, Freya had suggested they bring in a cot for Kratos to lie on rather than the hard wood.
"How do you feel?" She asked as she stepped to his side, her hand running up his arm, lightly touching over the slowly healing wounds from Set's blade.
"Stiff," was all the spartan replied as he winced in pain striving to sit up. His legs slid over the bed's side, his strong hands gripping the frame. "Atreus summed up what happened with Ra and our room. Nothing of yours is missing?"
She shook her head. "No, they left my swords, bow, and clothes. It appeared as if they were looking for something, but did not find it."
Kratos' eyes snapped open. "The blades. They were there, someone other than Set, a partner. They knew I chased Set out into the desert, and I didn't have the blades with me. That's the only thing it could have been. Thoth said none of their magic or weapons did anything to whoever attacked Sehkmet. The axe flew to me, they must fear the blades… We need to speak to Thoth."
A terrible groan escaped Kratos as he tried to stand and swiftly fell back into his seat upon the bed. Freya's arms went to his shoulders to steady him.
"We can go get him. You sit, you aren't nearly fully recovered. Whatever that weapon was, it took a toll on your body. Atreus says he recognized it from traveling to the East. The magic however, I do not know its source," she muttered as she sat on the bench beside the bed.
Atreus was standing in the doorway silently before deciding to join the conversation. "Yeah, it's called a kris. They're not overly common there, and even then, the handle didn't look like anything I saw in my time there either."
Kratos gazed at his son. "That sword you used to kill Set, what is it?"
Atreus smirked as he shifted his weight off the door frame to stand on his own. "Oh, it's called a katana." He drew it from its sheath. The blade was even more shining and visible in its perfect form in the candlelight. "I got it way out to the East. This island of soldiers, they call it the land of the samurai. Those are the warriors that live there. Their war god gifted me this when I left, it has some type of spell forged into the steel. It's made for killing gods. Nifty, huh?"
He stepped forward and handed it to Kratos who began inspecting it. The god ran his fingers along its thin blade, noting the perfect balance and incredible level of craftsmanship in both the metal and the handle. "That creature you transformed into, you've been picking up some new tricks."
Now a snicker arose from Atreus, "Heh. Yeah well, you go to new lands, you see new animals. A wolf certainly wasn't going to be enough to stop Set."
With a heavy sigh Kratos handed the blade back to his son. "Thank you, Atreus. You…saved me that night. If it weren't for your arrival, I don't know if I could have defeated Set."
Atreus shrugged his shoulders, "He just had a lot of tricks is all. He was really big, cursed weapon, could manipulate the sand we stood on, and we were fighting on nothing but sand as far as the eye could see. Set had all of the advantages. He had his tricks, I just had more."
Kratos shook his head. "No, son. You've grown..a lot, these last few years. You've become a strong man, and a very formidable warrior. Thank you."
The young giant stood up straight now, no longer having a slacked, casual posture. With a swift nod he firmly replied, "You're welcome, father."
Freya stood now, glaring down at the Greek's bald head. "What were you thinking?"
Blinking, Kratos gazed up at her with a puzzled look.
"You told me to stay. We were in a split second moment of do or die so I listened, but you ran out there without a plan, or any idea who you were even pursuing. If Atreus hadn't been there you would be dead, right now. Why did you tell me to stay?" There was a certain level of furious vehemence in the Vanir goddess' tone.
Kratos returned the frustration with a plainly spoken statement. "You did not have your armor or weapons. We did not have time for you to go up and change. Set was fast, I had to chase him immediately. I also do not trust everyone here, I wanted you to have eyes on what transpired with Ra..which Atreus told me they didn't linger long in whisking his body away for no one to see."
The Vanir's eyes began to narrow with anger and her nostrils flared. "Kratos, when we came here you said we were doing it together. I know I didn't have my weapons, but I could have caught up. And yes, I failed in what you wanted me to do too, so sorry. I shouldn't have listened to you and chased after you. But by the time they had come and taken Ra away, Set had started his sandstorm making any chances of finding you impossible. I know I can't use my magic, but I'm not weak. I could still have helped you. And as you just said, Set had allies at that feast! What if one of them had decided to try and finish me off when I was here alone, not knowing ally from enemy? They could have come up to me with a smile and shoved a cursed blade into either of us just as easily if we were alone. I know, it isn't fully your fault, and in your own way you were trying to protect me, but I'm a warrior too. My weapons aren't as easy to hide as your spear, and my bow doesn't fly to me like your axe. I understand that, but, ugh, gods I should never have worn that dress!"
Kratos stood now, ignoring the pain to look eye to eye with the angry goddess. "Then why did you? You know we're in enemy territory, why did you wear it and shed your armor? Because of the heat? That was not my decision." He was glaring back, nostrils flared as wide as hers.
"I… I wore it because after the day we spent in our room just talking, spending time together. I… I wanted to see how you'd react to me wearing it. I wanted to see what you'd say, if you'd compliment it, or just grunt at it too! Gods… how are you this fucking dense!" The goddess turned and threw up her arms in frustration. She collapsed back onto the bench. Her anger seemingly drained as what she just admitted finally began to dawn on her.
"I.. I mean, I.." Freya stuttered, trying to think of something to say now that her head was clearing and the anger subsided, replaced by nervousness and embarrassment.
Kratos said nothing for a few breaths, just standing there, looking forward ahead at the wall. "You…wanted me, to compliment you? I said the dress looked good for the celebration."
The goddess' hands clapped to her face, as she buried her head down in them. "Kratos, I was trying to impress you. I care about what you think of me. I care for you, deeply for you. I know I'm a warrior, and I feel like you only see me as a partner in combat and friend but…I care about you..more than that."
Why do I sound like a damned child confessing feelings for a childhood crush. I am a warrior, I am a goddess, I shouldn't feel this level of embarrassment and shame confessing feelings.
Atreus' words from a few nights ago echoed in her ear. She never loved Odin, not truly. They were amicable at the start, for a short time, but clearly never love. Any of the trysts or lovers she had before that certainly never grew to a serious emotional affection. Kratos, as it turned out, was the first man she had felt any intense feelings for.
A goddess of love that hasn't felt love in my thousands of years of life, how sad…
"Freya, I…" Snapped her back to reality. She quickly glanced to the door, realizing Atreus had long since left, presumably deeming it unimportant for him to be present for this conversation. Her gaze returned back up to the god staring down at her. His mouth was slightly agape, that was a first. His lips looked as if words were just about to spring forward, but words never came.
Freya stood, her eyes never leaving the floor. "I'll…I'll go back to my room. You should lay back down, your wounds aren't ready yet for you to move around."
As she turned to move, a strong hand caught her arm. "Freya, I'm sorry, for telling you to stay behind."
Heh, I say all that, and that's what he focuses on. Well, can't say I didn't try.
She pulled her arm from his grasp slowly, and left the room.
A few hours later, Atreus found his way back into Kratos' room. His father was laying in bed, staring a hole into the ceiling.
"So, how'd it go?"
Kratos made no attempt to move, just continued glaring at the stones above his head.
"How do you think?" The spartan quietly growled in reply.
Atreus snorted as he went to sit by his father's bed side. "Well, how did…what she say..make you feel?"
His father said nothing. "I get it, you don't wanna talk to me about this kind of stuff. Do you talk to Mimir about it? I don't know… Tyr? I don't know your friends really. Do you have anyone to talk to about problems like this? "
"Freya," was all his father muttered.
"Ah, well. We can just sit in silence if you want, we don't have to talk about it. You've lived a..life. Not one I could pretend to be able to give you any amount of wisdom to. I'm surprised you couldn't tell how she felt before tonight, really. But if you want to talk about it, I'm here."
Atreus' voice was deeper, Kratos had realized after he awoke. In the heat of battle the fact slid by him, but now, it was all he could notice when his son spoke. His son was a man now, and perhaps wiser than him in more areas than one.
"I…I don't know," Kratos finally uttered after a few minutes of silence. "I loved your mother, I loved Lysandre. They were both taken from me too quickly. One by my own hand, one by fate's. I know the visions I had tried to tell me I would not be replacing them, but…"
Atreus' brow piqued. "Well when you had me, did you think you were replacing your daughter? I know you kept me at arm's length for fear of me turning out like you, but I didn't. And you didn't replace your daughter. You loved mom, you love me, and you loved them. If they were here, none of us would deny that. I know it's not quite the same, but if something happened to Angr, I'd be sad, for a very long time, but I wouldn't swear off love. I wouldn't resort to being alone for the rest of my life. We live thousands, tens of thousands of years. I know you probably don't know exactly how you feel. But there is a very proud, badass of a woman next door that just told you how much you mean to her. I think at the very least, you can go tell her that much. I'm not saying you need to be in love with her, or even return those feelings, but I know you care a lot about her. Swallow your pride dad, man up, go over there, and tell her what you feel."
The spartan said nothing as he stood up. Not a single whisper of pain escaped his lips. A strong hand found its way to Atreus' shoulder, and his son nodded in agreement and understanding as the hand slipped off and the god left the room. His left leg was incredibly sore as he limped to the room next door where Freya was. These rooms actually had a door, unlike their accommodations upstairs, so Kratos knocked. After no reply, he slowly opened the door and entered.
Freya laid on the bed, still wearing the plain robes that the house servants had probably brought for her to wear around when not in her armor. Her head was turned away from Kratos, her back to him. It was his turn to sit on the bedside bench now. The room was only lit by two candles to their right so it was hard to make out certain details, but he assumed she was awake.
They sat like that, in silence for a while. Kratos deciding what to say, and Freya laying there waiting for Kratos to make the first move.
"Have I never complimented you in the past?" Was the sentence the god chose to open with.
With a thin layer of frustration in her voice, "You have, but it was mostly just complimenting me in combat. My skills, accuracy, speed with my blade, and so on."
After another minute of silence, she continued, "Once you told me a compliment that I've never forgotten. You probably don't remember as it was years ago, just after Ragnarok. We were in Vanaheim, and I was worried for its future. You assured me, saying-"
Kratos interceded, "It would prove to be resilient, just like the ones that truly care for it. Apologies for interrupting, I just, I do remember."
Freya was quiet for a while again after that. Kratos felt, nervous, for the first time in a while. He had not been truly nervous coming to these lands, or chasing after Set. Sitting here on this bench though, he noticed his fingers were twitching. He interlocked them to stop the minor distraction.
Then, she softly spoke, "I'm not some girl with a crush that survives off compliments and praise. I just, you say so little, Kratos. Don't get me wrong, I love how you choose your words, how you don't just speak on and on, prattling lies without second thought, like Odin did. But sometimes, and I suppose this is selfish, when you speak such honest words, they hit deep. Words like that, it feels like something else entirely. It's like you see me, hear me, it's just…not something I suppose I'm truly used to."
"I have a compliment for you."
Freya turned around now, glaring at Kratos with a certain degree of venom. "Kratos, I do not need your compliment now. I just.. I bore too much, in your room then. I shouldn't have told you all of that. Let's just..forget I said anything. We're here to kill some gods, not have a petty squabble over feelings and who likes who. Gods, why does this make me feel like I'm younger than Atreus."
Kratos raised a hand, palm forward. "Please, just let me try."
Reluctantly she sighed and nodded. Settling back into her bed, this time facing the god looking into those golden, stern eyes as they shone ever so faintly in the dim candlelight. Those eyes looked around the room for a minute, as the spartan thought exactly best how to phrase what he wished to say.
He growled once, clearing his throat, and began, "Tyr once-"
"Tyr?" She cut off with heated resentment.
Kratos inhaled and closed his eyes, "May I please continue?"
The Vanir goddess sighed, retreating back into silence to let the man finish.
"Tyr told me, showed me, rather. There are these, breathing..practices that he performs. You've seen him doing them, some of the times we came upon him in other realms. When he-" Kratos mimicked the Norse god's waving, slow arms.
"Meditation?" Freya answered.
"Yes, his meditation. Tai Chi as well. He said he learned it in his journeys before his imprisonment, and that he did them everyday while in Odin's captivity to help cope. Once, I found him on my own, when you were in Vanaheim tending to local matters there. He taught me how to perform a handful of the stances. He told me that doing them for just fifteen or so minutes, everyday, would reduce stress, calm the mind, improve your life."
The goddess' brow raised with a mouth slightly agape, wishing for the god to make a point. "...Okay?"
Kratos exhaled deeply, leaning forward and rubbing his wrist. "The first night we moved into our finished home, a little over half a year from Ragnarok's end. You made us supper. You slaved away all day in the kitchen, trying to make a roasted lamb, seasoned like it was in my home. You had traded and found a supposed recipe from Greece. It tasted…well, you remember Mimir's words."
"'I'd like to go back to imprisonment in the tree again, if it means not eating this again' I believe were the kind words," Freya snorted with an air of irritation at the head's slight.
"Yes, but you attempting that…it did mean a great deal to me. That effort, and care. The following morning as I sat in my bed I tried one of Tyr's meditation poses. I've done that almost everyday since, and even sought him out to learn more."
Freya's expression was shocked and confused, but probably not for the reason Kratos intended. "You..do meditation? When? We've camped in the woods, shared a room, I feel like I would have seen it."
"I do them when you're asleep, I strive to not make a sound so as to not wake you," the god affirmed, now looking back at Freya, meeting her stare.
She sat up exasperated. "Fine, but, I don't see how that's a compliment for me? You're more stress free now? Maybe a touch more limber? Congratulations?"
Kratos once again exhaled deeply. These next few words would require him to shed a thick layer of that stoic pride he clung to. "You make me want to be a better man."
Freya's words caught in her throat. Hearing him say those words, putting what he had said together. She truly did not know what to say.
The spartan continued, "You are..a noble, kind, determined, impossibly strong, emotionally and physically, woman. Working with you, everyday..seeing everything you do. It inspires me to try what I once thought was pointless, stupid even, in order to improve myself. To be deserving of you, your friendship, and partnership."
"That…" Freya uttered as she was fighting back the small tears wishing to break out from the corners of her eyes, "that might be the best compliment I think I've ever been given."
A soft grunt came from the god's bearded mouth. "Well, I just didn't want you to kick me back out the door."
The slightest, shortest, closest thing to a smile snuck its way across Kratos' lips. It was barely visible in the low light and through his dense facial hair, but Freya caught it.