Before reading this please be sure to have read the authors note in the chapter before this as it explains what I am doing with this story. Thank you and enjoy.
3 months before Ragnarok
Atreus remembers when the woods held life. When he was little Mother would bring him out to the outermost reach of their small plot of land to observe the flora and fauna that graced their part of the woods, woodland creatures big and small grazed off the berries and grass that grew in the shrubbery. Later he would learn that Father hunted the very same game that he and mother spotted - he probably shouldn't have been surprised - and use it for dinner that night. Little Atreus made a bit of a fit when he learned of it, the woods were beautiful when it held life so seeing it lose a little bit of that life was sad. Seeing the woods he grew up in now would have probably broken his little heart.
The woods were covered in snow, the shrubbery gone, the woodland creatures sparse, and the warm glow he grew up in turned to a cold muted blue. He heard of this when he was younger, they called it Fimbulwinter, the winter that would proceed Ragnarok. The winter was bitingly cold, the winds were fierce when they wanted to be, and the nights got even colder. If this was a sign of the incoming end of the world, he understood why people would think that. He also may have been part of the reason why it started, ironic wasn't it?
Three years ago, he and his father killed the Aesir god Baldur to stop him from reaching the realm of the giants Jotunheim. Baldurs quest was for not, as all the giants were dead and gone…except himself. Atreus, part-god, part-giant, part-mortal, son of the Greek God of War and last Giant in all the realms (except Jormungandr but he wasn't much of a conversationalist).
For the three years after defeating Baldur and discovering his heritage, Atreus trained under the guidance of his father and new friend of the family Mimir, the talking head. Together, the three of them braced for Fimbulwinter and taught Atreus everything he knew. With the somewhat-occasional help from the dwarves, Brock and Sindri Huldra, Atreus grew up to be a fine young man. At least that's what Mimir says. Atreus doesn't know many people to compare himself to, much less kids his age. But Mimir can be trusted when it comes to that area of expertise. He calls himself a "people person", someone adept with interacting with others, Atreus could see it. The same couldn't be said about his father, who Atreus could assume wasn't a people person.
His father, Kratos, often spoke matter of factly, short and concise words to get his message across. Even if that met grunting his approval or otherwise. Kratos was a man who was very direct, so direct that training under him was rather simple. Difficult, but simple. From his father he learned how to fight with his bow in a way that wasn't just shooting an arrow, from Brock he was gifted a new set of clothes, from Sindri he learned how to cast protective magic, and from Mimir he learned how to converse with people. Father didn't much care for that last one, but allowed it nonetheless.
So, there he was, grown up and ready to face the world. Whatever may come.
"Ready?" The question came out graveled and gruff, but nonetheless prepared.
Atreus looked up from his bow, finishing tightening the strings, and nodded. He was ready to face the world, right? So why was his heart beating in his ears?
Because he knew that despite the false bravado he put up, facing his mistakes was a whole other level than any enemy he ever fought. That mistake? Freya, Queen of the Valkyries and Baldurs mother. The death of her son made her distraught and full of grief, she vowed to kill his father should she have the chance. In the years since that day they have only encountered Freya a couple handful of times. Every time it was close, Freya was a tenacious fighter, she was a dangerous foe like no other, unmatched in ferocity and skill by no one other than his father.
"Let us go." His father said, as he marched towards Tyrs Temple. Atreus followed behind him, stealing himself.
They had heard from Brock and Sindri that Freya had camped herself inside the realm travel room centered in the lake that led to the nine realms. Why she was there, the dwarves couldn't guess. His father opted to leave her alone, after all if she was fixated on the Bifrost Bridge they could hunt and train in peace. But Atreus thought otherwise, it was their fault for Freya's current situation. Her grief-stricken heart was due to their meddling, even if it was self-defense. A little bit of pleading - really a lot - with the help of Mimir changed his fathers mind.
Now the three of them were off to confront Freya, to hopefully help her, but Atreus knew there would be a fight. Hopefully it wouldn't be bad…he doubted that.
"Mimir, do you know why Freya would be interested in the Bifrost Bridge?" Atreus looked to the head hanging from his fathers belt, Mimir scrunched his face in thought trying to answer his question.
"Hmm, perhaps she wants to go directly to Odin? But that would be impossible with the magic keeping her stuck here in Midgard. Same with Vanaheim. Wherever she goes she won't stay for long." Mimir answered the best he could, the smartest man alive could only guess so much.
"Right, when we went to Alfheim for the first time, she took us there but was sucked back to Midgard a few moments later." Atreus remembered the panic that overwhelmed him when the witch he only briefly knew was whisked away by Odins magic.
"Could she maybe have found a loophole?" In stories of his homeland, Father often told him of those crafty and clever enough to find ways to subvert bargains or contracts placed upon them. Or those dumb enough to not see obvious loopholes. Maybe Freya found one for herself?
"Hard to tell lad, I was never privy to whatever magic Odin casted on her. She and Odin are the only ones who would know that. But I wouldn't put it past her to find one." Atreus looked up to his father, who kept his eyes ahead of him.
They had reached the Bridge in little time, crossed it in fewer, the inside of the temple was Brock and Sindris old smithing room. He remembers the time he and his father spent here. Whether it be resting or purchasing equipment from the dwarves, this room always was active and had a soft glow to it. Now it was cold and dark, much like the woods outside his home. It saddened him.
"I can hear her beyond this door, are you ready?" Kratos turned to his son as he took a deep breath to calm himself. The hand holding his bow tightened, readying for the inevitable fight to come.
Together, the duo pushed the door open and beheld the Realm Travel room they had so often used years ago.
Much like the room before, the Realm Travel Room was dark and cold save for the center of the room. The center was where the roots of Yggdrasil came together to open a path to other realms. Once Atreus mentioned going to other realms to escape the biting cold of Fimbulwinter but they quickly learned that wasn't possible anymore. Travel between the realms was locked down, by whom Atreus had a few guesses but nothing concrete. Standing at the center was none other than Freya, Queen of the Valkyries. She was dressed in armor that looked worn and dated, but still sturdy enough to take a beating.
Freya stood over the dial that was used to select the realms, working at it in some sort of fashion. She grabbed at the roots that formed around the dial, mixing and removing what she thought was appropriate. Whatever she was doing was having an effect on the roots, they emitted a soft blue glow like they usually did when in the process of traveling realms. Atreus couldn't tell if that was good or bad.
"Freya." His father spoke, definitively and with purpose as he usually did. Freya was quick to respond.
"Come to finish me off finally?" The Queen of the Valkyries did not look away from her work, simply making alterations as she saw fit.
"My lady please, could you at least look at us?" Mimir spoke, and Kratos raised his head to face her.
Freya stopped before standing and looking at them. Her eyes sagged, the sign of staying up long nights, and her hand shook just a little. Was she obsessing over this enough to ignore her health?
"I have, and all I see are monsters." With a swift act, she unsheated her sword from her back. She was ready for a fight instantly.
"We don't have to fight, please can we just talk?" Atreus took a few steps forward, trying to alleviate the situation.
"I don't think she's willing to listen to us, lad." Mimir spoke behind him, saying the obvious. Kratos lowered him back to his belt, readying for a fight.
"You haven't spoken yet, any thoughts?" Freya turned to Kratos, the man who murdered her son.
"I do not regret my actions, if I was given the choice again I would do it. But-" His words were interrupted when the sound of the room was drowned out by the screech of metal.
"What is that?!" Atreus asked as he covered his ears, the sound reverberated across the room, making it difficult to hear.
In the center of the room, Freya rushed back to where she was tinkering with the roots of Yggdrasil. The dial above it spun with abandon, its metal contours sparked on contact with other metal parts. The Bifrost in the middle spun across the room above their heads.
"No no no!" Freya screamed but it was no use, Atreus could feel the temple physically spin under him. It started moving so fast that he was swept off his feet.
"What's going on!?" Kratos shouted, around them the Bifrost impact the walls that would normally lead to other realms but nothing could be seen through the other end.
"I can fix it!" Freya said, continuing to make her adjustments, as she wound one root to another the Bifrost stopped spinning and the screeching stopped. On their left, the portal stopped moving just in time for the air to start to pull at him.
"Whoa!" Atreus yelped as wind started to drag him from his spot, he tried to reach for anything nearby to hold him in place, but everything was out of reach.
"Atreus!" Kratos leapt for his son, grabbing onto his hand trying to hold them both onto the smooth surface.
"Agh!" Across from them Freya was hit with some of the remains of Yggdrasils roots, losing her grip as the fierce winds pulled her closer to the spot on the wall where the Bifrost impacted. She tried to grab at anything but was unfortunately pulled into the portal.
"Hold on!" Kratos tried to pull the two of them to safety, but the wind was too much. It felt like a hundred hurricanes were pulling them towards the Bifrost portal.
"Father, I'm slipping!" Atreus could feel his grip loosen, he was being pulled towards the portal as well.
Between struggling to hold them down, and holding onto Atreus, Kratos was stuck in a difficult situation. It became worse when Atreus slipped from his fingers.
"Father!" His son shouted as he was pulled from his spot. With little thought, Kratos jumped after him. He reached his hand out, trying to take hold of his son but before they could, Atreus slipped into the Bifrost Portal, he followed shortly.
The light was blinding. But just as quickly it darkened, Kratos opened his eyes. He was…in a dirty alley? Two tall buildings to his left and right rose up high, like an amphitheater. His hearing slowly adjusted, he could hear Mimir.
"Brother, are you alright!?" Kratos picked up the talking head, "Oh thank goodness, I thought I lost ya!"
"Atreus!" Kratos called out, but the boy did not respond.
"I don't see him anywhere, brother, why don't we look around?" Kratos nodded and walked forward, at the other end of the alley he could hear noises and talking. As he got closer and closer he didn't know what to believe.
Kratos stood upon the sidewalk of New York City and gazed at its magnificence, clearly he was nowhere he knew of. But in his heart he could feel it. The vestiges of magic may be old, but he recognized it.
"Impossible." Kratos muttered as he looked around, in his mind he knew what he saw, but this felt just like so long ago.
He was home.