Part of your World

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"Mimir can keep the title, this is nonsense," Angrboda groaned, palms pressed hard against her temples.

Sora snickered, twirling a paintbrush in his hands. "It's honestly not that complicated. See, Nobodies—"

"Shut up!" Angrboda shot up from her seat. "Just…shut up." She plopped down onto Atreus's lap. "My head hurts."

"Aw, there, there," Atreus said, gently rubbing her shoulders. As she cuddled up against him with a pleased hum, he looked up at the sky. The sun had gotten pretty low. "It's impressive that you got this far to begin with." Atreus himself had stopped bothering to understand when Sora started talking about how each World had its own Heart—and, implicitly, emotions and desires. He was, frankly, impressed that she lasted up until this whole 'Nobody' thing.

Sora hummed, his lips curling into a cat-like smirk. "You know, I've got a Nobody myself." Angrboda froze in Atreus's arms. Sora snickered, but his smile shrank into a genuine one. "He's finally become his own Somebody, though."

"…Nope." Angrboda shot up to her feet. "Not even going to think about touching whatever that is." She took a deep breath and smiled down at Sora. "It was lovely to meet you, and if you need any help to get back to your home, let me know. Just…don't talk about your utterly insane life." She shivered and exited her treehouse to do…anything to distract herself.

"…She's nice." Sora turned to Atreus with a smile. "You're a lucky guy."

"Don't I know it," Atreus replied. He stood up. "C'mon. We should head to Midgard."

"To do what?" Sora leaned back in his stool. "Practice more? We can do that here."

"Nah, I'm all practiced out right now," Atreus replied. "But I want to check on the wolves and see how Skjöldr's doing with the preparations for the Ragnarök celebrations." Atreus snapped his fingers. "Ah, damn! I should have asked Father and Mimir to check in with Freya on what they plan to do with Midgard to make amends."

"So…Vanaheim too?"

Atreus hummed. "…Maybe. Could be that Freya's already sent someone to the mortal villages around the Lake of the Nine, and there's no need to check." He gestured to Fenrir. "Wait over by Fenrir, I'm gonna say goodbye to Angrboda."

"Tell her I'm always available if she wants to learn more," Sora said with a grin. Atreus chuckled and walked over to Angrboda.

She was watering the vegetables in her garden. "Leaving already?" she said without looking back.

He smiled and hugged her from behind. "I'll be back soon enough."

"I'll hold you to that," she said, before twisting around and kissing him. He leaned into it, her pleased hum reverberating down to his toes. Still, she pulled back, a smirk on her lips. "Easy now. Keep that up and I won't let you leave."

"Wouldn't that be a shame." Still, Atreus did pull back, and after one quick kiss on the cheek, turned around and waved goodbye.

Sora leaned against Fenrir's chest; hands clasped behind his head. He was smiling at Atreus, and even though there was still some pain lurking in his sky-blue eyes, the sincere warmth held within easily smothered it.

"Found it in yourself to leave?" he teased. Atreus rolled his eyes, not bothering to engage.

"C'mon, Fen," he said instead, patting his giant wolf on the snout. "Take us home."

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Father and Mimir hadn't returned home since they'd been gone, but Atreus had been expecting that. After making sure the wolves were fed—honestly, they were getting a little fat. He needed to lead them on an actual hunt sometime soon—he led Sora to Skjöldr's village.

They were far less formal to greet the pair than when Father had been with them. Which was fair—the mortals positively adored Father, despite his usual icy demeanor—and they were more concerned with getting their celebrations for Ragnarök underway. And yet, Skjöldr was nowhere to be found.

"I'm afraid we're not quite sure where Lord Skjöldr is at the moment, Lord Atreus," one of the village's wise women said when he asked. "He informed us that he was going to be visiting the other villages to check on them, before visiting the grounds for the celebration. He's been gone since dawn."

"You can just call me Atreus," he automatically replied. "He didn't say when he would be back?"

"He said not to expect him until around sunset." The wise woman peered around, before leaning up and beckoning Atreus closer. He leaned down so she could whisper in his ear. "Between you and me, I think he's just snuck away to take a breather. Poor man's been running himself ragged."

"That's one way to put it," he replied. Skjöldr took a lot of pride in his position as a leader among the mortals of Midgard. But that role came with a lot of pressure from all sides. No one tried to fight him on it, thankfully—being on relatively good terms with Father helped with that regard—but everyone looked to him with either respect or admiration.

If Atreus had that many eyes on him for days on end, he'd want to escape too.

"I'll see if I can find him," he said. "Not like I'm needed much here anyway. Sora's taken over the show." The wise woman nodded, and the pair turned to face the kitchens. After Sora had heard that the villagers were planning how to contribute their portion of the feast for the celebration, Sora immediately offered his services. The villagers had initially refused, largely on account of him being a foreigner. But when he'd told them that Kratos, their adored god, liked his food, they'd been quick to change their tunes.

"Would you like me to relay a message to Sora?" the wise woman asked.

Atreus nodded after a moment. "Tell him if I'm not back by sundown to return home without me." With that said, he left the village.

He checked the celebration grounds first, though he personally thought they should just call it another village. It was certainly large enough if lacking walls and houses. Anders, one of the other village leaders, and the man in charge of the actual construction of the area, told Atreus that Skjöldr had already made the rounds to the other villages.

"Poor lad's damn near drained," Anders said with a soft chuckle. "Been doing a lot more than I could have ever dreamt at that age, if I'm being honest."

"You can say that again," Atreus replied. "I'm a god, and I don't know where he gets the energy." Anders stilled at the reminder that Atreus, for all his casual airs, was a god. Still, he shook his head and stared out towards the lake.

"I did tell him to take a break before he left." He arched a brow at Atreus. "He's not back at his home?" Atreus shook his head. "Then it would appear he's taken my advice."

"How do you mean?"

Anders cleared his throat and stepped up beside Atreus. "You see that cliffside, to the west of Tyr's Temple? Back when I was a lad, before me and my people left when everything was going to shit in these lands, there was this cave up there. You could see all of the Lake of the Nine and the surrounding lands from up there. Used to relax up there, watching the sun set before returning home after a hunt."

"You told him to head up there?"

"I did," Anders replied with a nod. "Now, when I was a lad I had a lot less of a burden upon my shoulders, but still, the principle's the shame, no?"

It was indeed. Still, Atreus said, "Skjöldr hates rock-climbing. And going that far alone?"

At that, Anders shrugged. "There's still a long stretch of beach. And no Raiders or animals go that close to the shore. Not with that massive snake curled up around the lake and mountains."

"Jörmungandr," Atreus corrected absent-mindedly. "And he does have a decent sword arm." You didn't become friendly with people like Thrúd or Father without at least learning the most effective way to decapitate a threat.

Atreus nodded at Anders. "Thanks. I'll check it out, see where he is."

"When you find him, could you tell him that us older folk aren't so far along that a lad his age can't let us handle some of the hard work?"

Atreus smiled at the older mortal. "I can tell him. Whether or not his listens…" Anders snickered, waving goodbye as Atreus shifted into a bird and flew away.

Even though he did want to find Skjöldr, Atreus took a moment to just take in the land below him. Midgard had changed since Ragnarök. As a child, isolated in the woods surrounding his home, for all the creatures that inhabited his surroundings, the world felt desolate. Stagnant. Venturing out to the Realms following his mother's death showed that they weren't much better. Odin, whether by direct force or subtle manipulation, had stifled all but what he desired. The dwarves could only make the things he wanted them to make. The Vanir were systematically cut down to not oppose him. The elves were left to their own, trapped in endless, bloody conflict. The mortals of Midgard were left confused and afraid, unable to venture out and explore their surroundings. And the Giants, well, they had decided to play the same game as Odin, for better or worse.

But look at them now. The dwarves were making things of their own again. The Vanir were slowly, but surely, regaining their lost strength. The Elves were laying down the roots for true peace. And the mortals, they had expanded like a bonfire. Villages dotted the coast and woods and boats traversed up-and-down the Lake of the Nine, following the rivers down and upstream, even reaching out into the ocean. Skjöldr had told him that he wanted to coordinate with the more seaworthy, and brave, mortals from all the villages to establish trade routes with the foreign lands.

It was a wonderful thing. Atreus always regretted that he couldn't witness it fully, not like Father or Mimir. But he had to help the remaining Giants. Bring them all together so their people could heal and join the other races to new heights.

He flew high in the sky with those thoughts in mind for a fair bit, before deciding that he'd dawdled enough, and dove closer to the ground to scan the coastline. Skjöldr wasn't anywhere on the beach, but Atreus could faintly see smoke rising from the cliff Anders pointed out.

He landed and shifted back to his normal shape in front of the cave. Skjöldr wasn't at the entrance, but the smoke filtered out from a turn just within the cave.

"Hey Skjöldr, been looking for you—woah!"

"The fuck?!"

Atreus scrambled outside the cave; hands clasped over his eyes. Nope, no way. He was just seeing things.

He removed his hands and slowly peered back into the cave.

"Don't look you fucking pervert!" Thrúd screamed, hastily putting on her clothes.

"Sorry!" Skjöldr, equally naked, squeaked out in reply.

"Not you!"

Atreus pulled back and sank against the wall. So, he wasn't seeing things. Nope, he really did see two of his best friends cuddling with each other. Naked. At least they weren't actually doing anything—though he could have gone the rest of his life without knowing that Skjöldr had a birthmark in the shape of a tree on his ass.

Several painful, awkward moments later, Thrúd stepped out from the cave. She had a scowl on her face, but it was offset by the fact that her face was as red as the streak in her hair. It would have been funny, if she didn't have Mjolnir in her hands, the legendary hammer sparking violently. "Come on," she hissed, jerking her head inside. Wordlessly, Atreus followed.

Skjöldr, equally as embarrassed and red-faced as Thrúd, looked everywhere but Atreus. The Aesir goddess roughly shoved Atreus into a sitting position opposite Skjöldr and stomped over beside the mortal. She sank down like a rock beside him, glaring at Atreus like he'd killed her favorite pet—which was honestly a distinct possibility, since he was at the very least involved in the deaths of most of her immediate family.

She only relaxed when Skjöldr, still looking at nothing in particular, slowly inched over and took her free hand in his own. And there they say in silence, the only sounds coming from the crackling fire, and wind blowing against the cave's mouth.

Atreus took it upon himself to break the ice. "So…how long has…this…been a thing?"

Thrúd and Skjöldr exchanged nervous, yet giddy, looks. "About three hours," the latter said.

"Seriously?" Atreus whistled. "Wow, you guys work fast. Took me and Angrboda months before we were that…comfortable with each other after we got together."

"Before you were that comfortable," Thrúd cut in. "Angrboda wanted to jump your bones the moment you two got together."

Atreus blinked. "How can you possible know that?"

"She's the only other girl I spend any time with, Loki," Thrúd deadpanned. "We talk about things." She leaned forward. "Which means I know all sorts of nasty little secrets, so if you even think about breathing a word about this, I'll start shouting them from all the peaks in the all the realms!"

Atreus gulped—oh, that would be bad. He might have to book it back to Jotunheim and have a long talk with Angrboda. "You, uh, you mean this current situation, or your relationship in general?"

"Both!" Thrúd spat.

Skjöldr arched a brow. "Both?"

"No!" The Aesir goddess quickly exclaimed, turning to Skjoldr with wide, guilty eyes. "Shit, I didn't mean it like that! I just—"

"I get it," Skjöldr said with a gentle laugh. "If your mom hears about this from anyone other than you, she'd gut me." He huffed. "Well, she'll probably gut me anyway."

Thrud giggled. "As if I'd let her." She leaned closer to Skjöldr, who closed the gap with a kiss. An eager kiss. A very eager kiss.

Atreus grimaced the second his saw tongue. "Guys, please."

The pair reluctantly broke apart, breathing heavily. "Please, compared to the shit you and Angrboda get up to, this is nothing," Thrúd said.

"Ah, that's just how he is," Skjöldr added. He turned to Atreus with a smirk, and deliberately pulled Thrúd onto his lap. "You know how squeamish he gets with public displays of affection."

"There's a time and a place!" Atreus defended himself. It wasn't his fault his mother and father had instilled the notion of privacy into his head from a young age!

Thrúd giggled, lips spreading into a devilish smirk. "Oh, believe me Loki, I know all about your preferred times and places." Okay, he really needed to have a talk with Angrboda.

Atreus spluttered. "Let's just move past all that!" He took a deep breath, and when he calmed down, fixed his friends with a gentle smile. "Let me take this moment to say, I'm really happy for you two." He laughed. "It's honestly been kind of frustrating, watching you dance around each other."

"We'd still be dancing if I hadn't talked to Sora," Thrúd replied.

"Yeah, I owe that guy a drink," Skjöldr said. He leaned back with a sigh, lips curling into a smile. "Thanks to him, today is probably the happiest day of my life."

"Until Loki barged in." Atreus narrowed his eyes at Thrúd, who stuck her tongue out at him and cuddled against Skjöldr.

Skjöldr nodded in agreement. "What're you doing here anyway?"

"Me and Sora stopped by your village," Atreus said. "Just to check in, you know? The other village leader, Anders, told me about how you've been so stressed lately that he told you about this cave so you could relax." He hummed. "Didn't think you were looking for that kind of 'relaxation' though?"

"Believe me, I wasn't." Skjöldr replied. "It was pure luck that Thrúd found me at the base of the cliff."

"I'm just glad I finally forced myself to talk to you," Thrúd said, leaning up and kissing his cheek. "Sora was right. Politics. Inheritances and heirships. None of that mattered. What mattered was what I wanted. With Skjöldr." Atreus couldn't help but notice that she'd left out the fact that she was an Aesir goddess, and Skjöldr was, at the end of the day, a regular mortal. That seemed like a much more pertinent obstacle than anything else.

But he wouldn't bring it up now. That was a problem the two could worry about in the future. Right now, they just needed to enjoy themselves and explore this new road they wanted to travel together.

He rose to his feet. "Well then, I'll just, uh, get out of your hair."

"Please do," Thrúd replied, toying with the hem of Skjöldr's tunic. The man himself was no better, fingers dancing along her thighs.

"So gross," Atreus said with a laugh, shifting into a bird and soaring into the air.

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Skjöldr had returned to the village right as Atreus and Sora were leaving. He'd deliberately ignored them in the cave, but even in the growing dark Atreus could see the love bites spanning his neck and collarbone. To say nothing of his slight limp and goofy, wide-eyed smile. Sora stared at him, but when neither Atreus or the man himself made a fuss, shrugged, and followed Atreus home.

Atreus had thought that after spending hours instructing the villagers on his cooking style, Sora would be tired of cooking. But his friend surprised him, eagerly setting up shop over the cooking pit and grilling up some fish he'd received as payment after cleaning up after himself.

"What are you making?" Atreus asked after he'd washed up.

Sora looked over his shoulder with a smile. "The original recipe is called 'Sea Bass en Poêlé'. But I'm substituting perch for the bass."

"En Poêlé'?" Atreus repeated. "What's that mean?" Sora stared at him. "Uh…Sora? You in there?"

The young man jolted. "Wha—sorry! Just, you pronounced that perfectly. I'm impressed."

Atreus preened at the praise. "I've always had a gift for languages."

"Lucky." Sora turned back to the meal. "Poêlé' means pan, frying pan, specifically."

Atreus hummed. "Then 'en' must mean either 'on' or 'with'."

"Yup." Sora shrugged. "There are other dishes I know how to make that are also pan-fried, but they don't have an 'en' in their name. Never really asked why. Well, I couldn't ask, really."

"Why not?"

"Little Chef's the one that wrote the dishes down."

Atreus blinked. "The rat…can write?"

"Yup," Sora replied, as if that was a completely normal thing. Which, considering the fact that the rat could cook, probably was.

"Are there any normal animals where you come from?"

"Course," Sora replied. "There's…uh…" he paused his work, head tilted up in thought. "Define normal?"

"The fact that you need me to define 'normal' is concerning," Atreus said with a laugh.

Sora joined in, before shrugging. "I don't know. There were the animals on my islands, I guess. But yeah, thinking about it, a lot of the animals I've met across the Worlds haven't exactly been 'normal'. Just on my latest adventure, Maximus, a horse, and Sven, a Reindeer, acted way too intelligently than other horses I've seen. And Pascal, a little chameleon, tripped a lady out a window to her death." Sora hummed. "Well, it would have been her death, had she not fallen to Darkness and turned into a Heartless. And I don't even want to think about what Pluto's got going on—he can just traverse through the Darkness without a care in the world. Hey, maybe that's how King Mickey learned how to open up Corridors of Darkness using his Keyblade."

"A Chameleon," Atreus said, deliberately ignoring those last sentences. "Those are those small lizards that can change their color, right?"

"Yeah. You've seen 'em?"

"A couple. Far south of these lands—pets. Don't think they were native to the area." He leaned against the table with a sigh. "I never knew there could be so many animals out there, you know? I didn't think there we so many kinds of snakes and frogs!"

"No kidding." Sora snickered. "Back on my home World, there's these handful of frogs across all the islands that, because they look so similar, people assumed they were all the same type. Wasn't until about twenty years before I was born that people realized they were all different kinds."

"Seriously?"

"Oh yeah. It caused a big stink back then. One of my schoolteachers would never shut up about it. Something about it was always on their tests." Sora sighed fondly. "Ah, food's ready." He transferred the fish to two plates, killing the fire and placing the cover over the pan.

Atreus took a second to thank Sora, and an even longer second to save the smell of the fish, before digging in.

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A/N: Angrboda tried and failed. Still, gets a cookie for the effort. Fun fact, Kratos, if he bothered, could understand everything Sora has to say better than even Mimir. He refuses partially because, again, he can't be bothered, and also to not damage his friend's ego.