Author's Note: Hey guys! Thank you all for showing the love that you have for this story! Hadn't had one I've written take off like this in a long time! Just wanted to state that in this canon, the Barrens' desert is a LOT longer than the game, to make the journey across the sands seem harrowing and desperate. Hope you enjoy this little sneak peek into the violence to come.
Shit's about to get real.
Chapter 2: Bane Of Olympus... Scourge Of Asgard
As she walked through the realm between realms, Freya couldn't help but feel numb and cold.
The only thing keeping her warm is the fury that burns within her, heated by the haunting memory that plagues her mind. Despite her will to push forward, with each step she takes, she watches helplessly as Odin, that fucking bastard, plunges Gungnir through Atreus' chest all over again. The echo of that pain crushes her heart like a deer caught in a troll's grip.
Worst of all, Freya never got the chance to tell the boy how much she valued Atreus, feeling no shame in caring for him as if he were her own.
She always found the young man to be brash but polite, reckless yet caring and noticed how deeply he loved, as sheepish as he was about it.
Always excited by the prospects of adventure, discovering new lands and creatures, but disappointed when he had to slay some of those creatures. The first thing he did when he and his father returned to Sindri's home was eagerly and frantically tell her everything they did to begin Vanaheim's return to tranquillity.
While Kratos was quick to grunt and tell her everything he'd done was nothing (which it certainly is not), Atreus could've chatted her ear off all day.
And she would've happily listened.
The dragons and predators they slaughtered through the Barrens, the Sinkholes, all the way through the jungle.
Opening up the dams to return water and life to those desolated lands.
Guiding the Seasonal Stags and capturing Nidhogg's children, all now in Ratatoskr's care and watchful eye.
As Atreus told her everything. The time he and Kratos took to rid the most dangerous territories of Vanaheim of its most dangerous predators-
He never stopped smiling at the pride and astonishment she openly showed on her face.
How could Freya not grow to love the boy?
How could his death not have crushed her the way it has?
After all, only part of her has to imagine what Kratos must be going through right now.
For her, it's like she's losing a son all over again.
All the more reason to help Kratos bring his beautiful son back, as ironic as the situation is-
Helping the man who killed her son, a son she couldn't restore to life, resurrect his own.
The difference is; she has the chance this time, even if she doesn't owe it to Kratos (or at least that's what she believes), she owes it to herself to help make this right.
After all, out of anyone in that room, she should've known something was off about Tyr.
Should've known the moment he called her Frigg.
That fucking name.
"What are you thinking, your Majesty?" Mimir's voice rips Freya from her thoughts so swiftly, that it feels like she is being torn back to Midgard. "You've been awfully quiet since we left Sindri's home."
"I know it's been lifetimes, but you know you can talk to me, right?" Freyr smiles sadly at his sister, slowly wrapping an arm around Freya's shoulder. "We both know I'm the talker and you're the warrior, here, so at least let me use my talents, yeah?"
"I... I'm sorry, I've been stuck in my thoughts."
"You have nothing to apologize for, Freya, I'm just worried about you."
"Aye, Freyr is right, your Majesty, nothing to be ashamed of," Mimir offers, softer than he normally would. "I may not have seen what happened... but I heard it... the sounds keep replaying in his head."
"Trust me, Mimir, we're in the same boat," Freya sighs, rubbing her eyes as they wait for the gateway to Alfheim to appear. "I feel... it's like... I feel empty Mimir. Seeing Atreus... die like that... I'm certain I'll never forget it. I feel like I'm trapped on Midgard all over again, helpless, and weak. I could've... I should've been able to stop it."
"You can't place all of the blame on yourself, your Majesty, the weight of that guilt will do nothing to serve you," Mimir attempts to uplift, with so much sincerity, that she's unable to ignore the head's encouragement. She wants to thank him, but she can't find the will to do so.
"You sounded a lot like Kratos, Mimir, it seems the General is rubbing off on you," Freya decides to tease instead, immediately regretting it when her thoughts turn to Kratos. She's never been afraid of him, but right now, under these circumstances-
She's afraid for him.
Afraid of what Odin has done to him by taking Atreus' life.
Fearful of how far Kratos may fall.
How much he'll change from the man he's fought so hard to become.
"How do you think brother is handling it?"
"I have to admit, I'm a little apprehensive about finding out. I'm half expecting us to walk through the next gateway and see the entire Temple of Light burning to the ground," Freya thinks back to everything Kratos told her in Vanaheim. As intense as their alliance was at the time, every time the God of War spoke of his past, she clung to every word like a lifeline. "He's certainly burnt more benevolent cities to the ground."
"Lady Freya? If I may?"
"If you must, Mimir," Freya allows, rolling her eyes as she's expecting a stupid question from the head.
"When did you learn of his past as the Ghost of Sparta?"
Oh.
That certainly wasn't the question she was expecting.
"Okay, I'm gonna' throw it out there, I'm unfamiliar with the story, but I'll assume Kratos is the Ghost of Sparta?" Freyr asks curiously. "I mean, aren't many in the Nine Realms who look that ghostly, besides maybe the Einherjar? Sparta is where you lost me."
"Oh, so you aren't familiar with the Greek Pantheon?" Freya comments sarcastically, smirking lightly.
"I mean, I did pay attention sometimes, Nao, some centuries are just hazier than others," Freya shrugs his shoulders. "I know of the Greek Gods, Zeus being the King of them, right? Mother spoke of them long ago, but I don't recall ever hearing that happened to them."
"Well," Freya clicks her tongue. "Since you asked first, Mimir, I didn't hear the tale of the Ghost of Sparta until after my marriage with Odin. He and Tyr, the real Tyr, were at odds one day. Odin wanted to begin conquering the lands of other Pantheons, wanting to absorb their magic to further Asgard's power. Tyr refused, stood his ground and told his father that he'll never be the God of War he seeks if that's what he saw him being."
"I must not have been around during this particular argument," Mimir comments, Freya ignoring it, not wanting to wonder what Mimir found himself doing during that time.
"Odin shunned Tyr and disregarded his worth, insulting him, and told his son how much he wished he was more like the Ghost of Sparta. I'd never seen Tyr so offended as Odin couldn't usually crawl under his skin, so of course, I was curious and went into Odin's study to research the legend for myself."
"And what did you find?" Mimir pushes for more.
"Well, the books Odin had on the legend were memorable, to say the least. There was, of course, more to the story as I came to learn, but the books described the Ghost of Sparta as a monster, ragefully massacring his way through Greece in a quest for vengeance and bloodlust. He was said to fear no man, God, or creature, slaying legendary beasts that haunted the lands and seas for centuries like they were nothing. He killed anything and everything until Zeus himself took it upon himself to end his reign of terror... clearly, it didn't turn out the way that creep had hoped."
"And that's describing... Kratos? The silent, calm, tactical warrior who speaks only when necessary?" Freyr questions with wide eyes.
"Aye... Kratos was a different man back then, but he was... still is, a Spartan by form, the last Spartan," Mimir informs.
"How old is he?"
"Well, the legend I read was from over a millennia ago," Freya points out.
"Your Majesty-"
"And what is a Spartan?" Freyr chuckles nervously.
"Are you kidding, Yngvi?"
"Hey, throw me a bone here while the gateway takes a suspicious amount of time to appear! Sparta is in Greece, I can guess that much-"
"Spartans were taken as children to be trained as warriors," Freya speaks before Mimir can beat her to it, catching the head off guard by her knowledge; specifically, the possibility Kratos told her. "Only the strong survived to become hardened soldiers, from what I've heard, Sparta had one of the strongest armies of Kratos' time. They were taught to be strong, intelligent and disciplined. Since Kratos was a General, I'm certain you can figure that he wasn't one to be fucked with."
"I guessed that much, Nao."
"As I was about to ask, your Majesty, shall I tell your brother the story of the Ghost of Sparta, or would you like to?"
"You'd be more familiar than I, but are you certain you can tell it without telling Kratos' secrets?" Freya asks in return. "I'm sure there are things you know that I don't."
"Aye, but I've known such things long before I met him on that mountain," Mimir sighs. "Long, long before. Perhaps you could begin, and I'll add anything... significant you may have missed."
"Mhm, I suppose I can work with that," Freya agrees reluctantly, turning back to Freyr. "Since you know of Zeus, first things first... Kratos is Zeus' son, making him a Demi-God by birth, his ascension to Godhood came much later, according to the legends, by multiple... circumstances. During a great battle, where Kratos' army was outnumbered by thousands of barbarians, he sold his soul to Ares, the Greek God of War, to ensure victory and save his home from being ravished. He went into service to Ares, who was cruel and undeserving of his power, unlike Tyr, costing Kratos his family-"
"Who was then cursed to wear the ashes of his wife and child for being tricked into taking their lives," Mimir states nonchalantly, causing the Vanir siblings to freeze.
"Excuse me?" Freya huffs, taking Mimir from her belt and holding him in front of her. "You didn't make up that, right?"
"O-oh, I didn't... you... you didn't know?" Mimir asks, shocked at the revelation. "Oh, your Majesty, I am so sorry for telling you that, you as well, Freyr."
"So... he's the Ghost of Sparta, not just because he caused so much death?"
"I'm afraid so, Freya... brother has suffered a lot more than he'd ever admit. Nightmares, the inability to end said nightmares, he was cursed in many ways before he found some distance from Greece, long before he came to these lands. Before he was able to change, took a thousand years, might I add, but better late than never."
"Gods, Kratos..." Freya pauses, thinking of how horrible it must be to wear such a thing on you, all the time. Yet, at the same time, it makes her wonder if they've faded over the millennia, faded with the good deeds committed in repentance over centuries. "As I was saying before... anyway... the Ghost of Sparta swore vengeance against Ares, opening a great box to gain the power to defeat a God. After gaining such power, he battled Ares, slaying him before the eyes of Olympus. The Gods, instead of destroying Kratos, offered him Ares' place as the God of War, which as you can guess, Kratos took."
"That's when Kratos' conquests began," Mimir adds. "Zeus grew tired of Kratos turning the tides of war to his Spartan brothers, causing chaos and destruction for... well... the fun of it, and to punish the other Gods for their lies and treachery. Zeus then tricked Kratos into putting the power of his Godhood into the Blade of Olympus, turning him into a Demi-God once again, allowing Zeus to kill his son pretty effortlessly. Stuck him through the gut with the very Blade he put his power into."
"That must be the cause of the large scar on Kratos' mid-section," Freya thinks to herself. "Why am I thinking of his stomach?"
"But... Kratos is still alive?" Freyr points out.
"Great observation, brother!" Mimir chuckles seeing the sulky look on Freyr's face. "The thing you have to know about Kratos is... everything he's done, in legend or not, remarkably always seems to be true. Brother died and crawled his way out of the Underworld so many times, it's a wonder the Gods still poked that bear. Anyway, Kratos is resurrected by the Titan, Gaia, cuts his way out of death yet again, travels and battles the Norns of his lands. Might I add, the Sisters of Fate, as they were called, had the power to travel through time itself and threatened Kratos' very existence. So, as he did back then, brother slaughtered all three of them, travelled back to when Zeus murdered him, and tried to murder Zeus in return. Athena, the Goddess of War, tried to intervene and ended up with a gut full of the Blade of Olympus."
"Holy fuck," Freyr's mouth gapes open. "He travelled through time to kill the King of the Greek Pantheon?"
"And if not for Athena he would've succeeded, aye, brother, it's true. Kratos then used that power to recruit the Titans to destroy Olympus for his ultimate vengeance. There's a reason he was once called the Bane of Olympus... while we're on the topic... if brother does destroy Odin's kingdom... I want it to be known I came up with the title 'Scourge of Asgard."
"Mimir..." Freya warns.
"I know, shutting up now."
"Kratos then waged war against Olympus, slaughtering all of the Greek Gods in battle, each God falling devastating Greece in distinct forms all the while. He burnt Olympus to the ground for what happened to his family, and Zeus' attempt on his life. After he was done-"
"Brother stabbed himself with the Blade of Olympus, to release the power of Hope, gifting it to the hands of mortals in a final defiance. Well, that wasn't his intention, per se, the act itself, at my guess, was because he simply had nothing else to fight for. No goals to further fuel his vengeance. I suppose he just... gave up after."
"I... was not aware of that part of the story, either," Freya says pointedly, thinking hard about that particular fact. Back on Vanaheim, Kratos had only said that 'the pain remained' after the destruction of Olympus, she never thought he'd make such a sacrifice, whether intended or not. "He truly refuses to die, doesn't he?"
The only person she ever saw the God of War exchanging his life for was Atreus.
Gods, he must feel so lost right now.
"Aye, I say the big grump would give Odin a run for his money, even with all the All-Fucker's repulsive forms of magic. My lady... Kratos doesn't know I'm aware of how his annihilation of Olympus ended, would it be too much for me to ask-"
"Fear not, Mimir, I won't tell Kratos how much your wagging tongue led you astray when speaking of his past," Freya assures. "As much as we've seen how infuriated he becomes when secrets are involved, I can agree it's for the best."
"I wouldn't want to piss him off at the best of times, so you know I ain't saying shit," Freyr agrees immediately, startled when the gateway suddenly appears in front of them. "For a minute there, we thought we were going to be stuck in here."
"You do have a point, Freyr, it did take a tad longer than usual, didn't it?"
Placing Mimir back on her belt, Freya's the first to walk through the gateway, finding herself familiar with her surroundings. What's got her concerned is why they ended up at the Njarta instead of the Strond. They should be close to the entrance of the Temple of Light.
More alarming, Lunda has set up her shop in this unusual spot, looking like she's on the verge of having a panic attack, a distressed expression on her face.
"Lunda, are you okay?" Freya greets, catching the dwarf off guard, nearly scaring her out of her skin.
"My Lady?!" Lunda hollers out, immediately dropping her tools at her table. "What in Hel's frosty tits as Alfheim so popular, all of a sudden? I was set up in the Temple of Light when the Einherjar sprawled in, in ridiculous numbers, may I add. I was lucky Sindri pulled me out when he did, and brought me here. He nearly looked as upset as the beefcake! What's am I missin' here?"
"Einherjar? In Alfheim?!" Mimir yells in bewildered wonder. "I wonder what they're up to."
"Can't be anything good," Freyr remarks. "Means Odin wants something... whether he's figured out Kratos' plan and is trying to intercept him. Kill him while vulnerable."
"Can't say the spiteful cunt is thinking clearly if that's the case," Mimir chuckles fearfully.
"So you've seen Kratos?" Freya immediately questions. "Where did he go?"
"Sure did, I tried to ask 'im if he needed his gear spruced up, but he charged away like a man on a mission, an infuriated one. Never seen his muscles so... veiny," Lunda comments, Mimir whispering an 'o-oh' he believes Freya doesn't hear. "Hopped on the sled and rushed away with those Gulons, tried to warn him of the hefty Einherjar patrols, but he's gone before I could say. Heard some serious commotion no more than two minutes later..."
"What's patrols is Kratos up against?" Freya presses further, beginning to feel a sickening feeling in her stomach.
"There's Einherjar out there in the hundreds, patrols of at least forty warriors, they've brought Wyverns, Gradungr. Fuck, can anyone explain to me what's so important the All-Bastard has dragons out the Barrens?! They ain't even interested in eating the baby Hafgufa, they're waiting for something. Specific prey."
"Lunda, thank you for telling us everything, and to answer your question... Tyr wasn't Tyr," Freya pauses, finding herself almost unable to speak of what has occurred, fighting the tears welling in her eyes."It was Odin, in disguise this whole time, spying on us under our very nose. He... was going to kill Brok after losing his temper and... Kratos' son attacked him before he could. He's... gone."
"Oh... Gods, that's what's got the big guy so different..." Lunda says much quieter than normal, letting the knowledge sink in. "If he's heading towards the Temple of Light... can only mean-"
"He's going after Atreus' soul, and I'm certain he can do it alone, confident he wants to do it alone, we just can't let that happen," Freya affirms, offering the woman a soft smile she happily returns. Luna and the Vanir twins suddenly turn at the sound of a sled echoing from the path to the Barrens.
The Goddess of Love is almost relieved, hoping Kratos returned to the Njarta to regroup, returned to ask her personally for help with this task.
She doesn't doubt the most important task of his existence.
Instead, she's disappointed by the sight of an empty sled, the fur of the pair of Gulon's ruffled and sandy. The sled itself has suffered minor damage, giving her the impression it capsized under the assault of Einherjar.
Maybe a dragon just swooped him off the fucking ground.
Freyr is quick to approach, speaking softly to the gulons, calming them down and gingerly brushing the sand off of them. The familiar loud screech of a dragon echoes from the path to the Barrens, prompting the Vanir God to spring onto the footboards, motioning to his sister to jump in. "C'mon, we've not a second to lose."
Freya smirks at her brother, hopping into the sled as Freyr clicks his tongue, causing the gulons to sprint forward. Freya places Mimir on the seat of the sled, unsheathing both of her swords as they quickly approach the Barrens' desert, preparing herself for the worst. When they finally reach the sand, however, they're met not with opposition, but the butchered leftovers of battles already waged.
Freyr slows, stopping for a closer look, doesn't take him long to wish he never had.
Blood and missing pieces are littered all over the sand.
Three groups of Einherjar have been completely slaughtered; most of them missing limbs, many decapitated, disposed of by their own weapons, some burnt to a crisp. Three wyverns dead, one missing its wings, its chest cavity torn open, the second missing its head. The third, impaled in the neck by a beak, what remains of the second wyvern's torn off head still attached. Even a dead gradungr lays slain, its horns torn off and jammed into its eye sockets.
"You think the Dark Elves did this?" Freyr asks. "I've heard they practically control the Barrens and Forbidden Sands now, aside from the occasional Light Elf patrol."
"Eh, I don't think so, brother. Looks to me... the Einherjar have already gotten in Kratos' way," Mimir says nervously, taking in the sight of the carnage his trusted friend has left behind. "It looks like they were trying to ambush brother at the entrance, couldn't have picked a worse day to pick a fight with him. We have to find him, your Majesty, if the carnage is coming to him... he won't get a moment to process anything in any other way than enacting violence. Well-deserved violence, may I add, but that's not the point."
"I know, Mimir... they'll only push him closer and closer to the edge, but we should find solace in knowing he's focused on a goal. As red as his vision may be," Freya pauses, staring into the distance, swearing to herself that she sees something moving behind a large rock. "He has a goal in mind, something I believe runs far deeper than the rage he's cloaking himself in. I also believe, that even after he gets Atreus back, that rage will remain and he'll want to tear down Asgard's walls himself."
"To that, my Lady, we are in agreement. Odin's realised just how fucked he is now, he'll send his entire army to kill one God because he's too much of a coward to face what he's created. Only a matter of time before he sends the Valkyries under his command... including Gna... if Kratos kills them... Odin will send Thor... maybe his daughter too. If only she was aware of what's happened to Atreus, from the way the lad's tone shifted lighter when speaking of Thrud, no doubt they were friends."
"Sending a message to Asgard would be easier said than done unless my ex-husband was involved. I don't doubt both of them would be fierce allies if we could convince them their devotion is worth troll shit," Freya hisses, still watching carefully for something to reappear from the other side of the rock. "Unfortunately, not only will we never get the chance to speak to Thorsdottir, but I'm doubtful Odin will send his granddaughter to fight a God of War. He'll save that sacrifice to save his skin."
Before they can speak further on the matter, the powerful screech of a dragon catches their attention, soaring from the darkness of the night sky and into view. Catching sight of the trio, the scaley beast begins descending towards them, caught off guard when the rock Freya was watching is suddenly propelled into its ribs. The force of the impact sends the dragon plummeting into the ground, its head dragging across the sand until it falls to a halt.
That's when Freya hears it, the familiar roar of Spartan Rage, echoing across the Barrens, her heart plunging into her stomach as the sound reverberates off of her skin.
It becomes obvious to her, at that moment, that it was Kratos she saw in the distance, playing a cat-and-mouse game with the dragon, hiding and waiting for the right time to strike; using the distraction they caused to his advantage.
Freyr ushers the gulons to the charge ahead, bringing the trio to the scene of the battle as swiftly as he can. The closer they get, the easier it is for Freya to see the God of War leap onto the beast, impaling his Blades of Chaos into the scales of the dragon's face as it ascends back into the sky. The creature, now in a frenzy, flies wildly, slamming itself into the rocky terrain in a desperate attempt to throw off the Spartan. As it soars past, the trio get the clearest view of Kratos dangling from the dragon by his chains, but only for mere moments, as the power of the beast's wings creates a whirlwind of sand.
"Well, brother seems to be enjoying his joy ride," Mimir comments with awe, quickly requesting Freya pick him up so he doesn't miss the show.
Slowly climbing closer and closer to the beast's red eye, Kratos adjusts his grip, grasping onto the chain with one hand. The God of War summons Draupnir with his free one, using Hulda's charge to plunge the spear deep into the dragon's left eye. With a scream, Kratos kicks himself away from the beast, swinging back in before kicking and lodging the spear further into the creature's skull. Summoning Draupnir a second time, the Spartan smashes the ferrule into its scales, watching with vicious, vengeful bloodshot eyes as the dragon's skull implodes on itself.
Brain matter blasts into the God of War's face as the beast's wings cease their flapping, causing it to fall to the ground like a lightning bolt. Kratos tears his Blades from the creature's scales, throwing himself from it to avoid being pulled down by the beast; the dragon's weight dragging it down at a far swifter rate. Within seconds, the Spartan, though still descending so fast his body is beginning to burn up, lags behind the dragon.
On the ground, Freya, Mimir and Freyr watch the sight helplessly, the situation only intensifying when dozens of Bifrost beams descend from the sky, bringing more Einherjar with them. With a growl, Freya furrows her brows, the mistletoe broadhead around her neck shining a brighter green as her magic heightens around her.
The bird-like screech of a wyvern brings their attention back to the sky, watching as one charges into Kratos as he begins to approach the ground. Wrapping his arms around the animal's neck, the Spartan rids the creature of its stability, throwing it off course and into a rocky cliffside, shattering it in its entirety.
The ground convulses for a moment, like an earthquake beginning to tear the lands apart before dissipating, and once again, Kratos is out of their sight, but ever so closer to the Temple of Light.
"This is going to be a long night," Freya sighs, settling Mimir back into the corner of the sled's seat, summoning a sharpening stone with magic, before going to work on her blades. Mimir, ever the observer, notices the razor-sharp edge already present on her blade, which makes him wonder...
'Maybe it's not just Atreus weighing heavily on her mind."