A banquet for gods. Atreus never thought he would see the day he'd attend such a thing. Even after he found out he himself was a god, his experiences of other gods had been horrific at best.

Magni, an eager murderer.

Modi, coward, but even with all of the ill-feelings the russet-bearded son of Thor brought about being due to Atreus' own actions... For all the guilt, Modi was a grotesque person. Even to this day, the guilt and shame wasn't for killing him, it was for why.

Baldur. Mad and vengeful. He was a product of poor decisions. Atreus couldn't even imagine what Baldur might have been if he weren't saddled with the torture of numbness. But he was what he was.

Freya. The source of the poor decisions. Made out of love, but that was proof that gods hurt with love as much as they did with hate. Not to mention she was the reason Atreus was even here in this place so far from home. She intended for him to die. Vengeance. Vengeance vengeance vengeance.

Which brought him to Father. Kratos the admitted slaughterer of gods. Killed his own father and lived with regrets. At the least, he passed those regrets to Atreus, and tried to push him toward a better path.

But was there a better path for gods? Even Artemis, the currently nicest god he had met, had warned him of how her family were quick to develop petty grudges. He had almost fallen afoul of one immediately upon arriving.

And now he stood in a great open banquet hall filled with more than a dozen gods and several times that of mortals. The favoured of the Greek pantheon. Most of them beautiful people. Muscular, shiny men. Curvaceous and/or muscular and equally shiny women. A smattering of old people. Bald, wrinkled, bearded, arguing in flowery language. Musicians and performers plying their trades for the amusement of the attending gods. Just how long had they been preparing to receive him, Atreus wondered?

"Surprised to see mortals up here?" Artemis asked, finding her way to standing behind him as he looked out over the hall. Kratos, this world's Kratos had his arm slung over the newest god on Olympus. Making the appearance of the proud father.

"Not really," Atreus answered. "I guess they're dead and this is where the people who really impress end up?" Kind of like Valhalla.

"Ha! No, not at all!" Kratos refuted the idea quickly. "The dead who worship go to only one place. The Underworld, Uncle Hades' Realm of the Dead. He's a miserable and miserly sort. A soul escapes the Realm of the Dead over his dead body."

"Of course he's a skeleton nowadays, so an argument could be made," the goddess of the hunt mused aloud. "But no. The honoured dead go to the fields of Elysium, where they may fight, feast and fornicate until the end of days. These mortals are those favoured by certain gods and permitted to dwell here in service to Olympus. They still live, and are kept alive in perpetuity via nectar and the occasional taste of ambrosia."

"If Hades is that jealous, wouldn't that mean he'd be mad at people living way longer than they should?"

Kratos laughed. "Of course! But he has enemies far closer to home for him to worry about those we enjoy up here! Though I imagine if any of these people were to die, I wager Uncle Hades would be eager to vent his frustrations on them!"

The god of strength laughed loudly as he said it, not noticing or caring as some of the closer mortals overheard and flinched. It was a small thing, but Atreus could see, hear and feel the greater fear that they kept concealed. He looked to Artemis and she inclined her head. Yes, they were essentially trapped here in eternal service. If they died, their afterlife would be filled with torment.

He didn't get the sense that any of them were eager to meet their end otherwise. But it was a fear that hung over their heads, and reminding them of that was a casual cruelty that this Kratos didn't care in the slightest for inflicting.

"So is Callisto like that?" he asked the green-haired goddess.

"More or less. She's a nymph so part divine and naturally long-lived regardless."

"Oh, did you bring her?" Kratos asked with sudden excitement.

"No."

The answer was short, in content and tone. The goddess scowling at the muscular god. There was context here that Atreus was clearly missing.

"A shame," Ares cut in, joining the conversation with a leg of lamb in one hand, barely cooked. "I'm sure Father would have liked to see her again." He smiled at the furious expression of his half-sister, swiftly moving on after poking the proverbial bear. "So, Nephew, I think I'd quite like to hear some tales of your life until now. From my dear half-sister, we hear you are in fact quite capable with that bow and some manners of magic. Not to mention confidence in a battle to the death."

"Come now, Ares," Aprhodite sashayed her way into the conversation. "Must it always be matters of violence with you? I'm more curious how he came to us from the lands of the Norse pantheon, escorted by one of their valkyrie, no less! They do take a liking to young warriors, they say!"

For a moment Atreus wondered how she knew that, then remembered Hermes had been up here and probably told him. Not to mention he could see the flighty god flitting about the hall having snippets of conversation wherever he went.

"I don't know how much there is to say," he answered. Being the centre of attention was still a learning experience for him. Not to mention this was a conversation for which he would have to navigate his own half-truths.

"Nonsense, young man!" Zeus boomed, picking up the young god by the collar and pulling him from the crowd, carrying him to a platform, and not so gently pushing the mortal orator speaking there to the floor. "Ladies, gentlemen, mortal and divine, we feast in celebration of another young god's joining of our family! Atreus, son of Kratos! And now it is time to hear his legend in his own words!"

"Wait, what?"

The confused and worried look meant nothing to the chief god of the Olympians. "Tell us the tale of your upbringing, young Atreus! Let us hear in your own words the legend of how you came into your divinity and found your way to us!"

"I don't know if it's that interesting."

"Come on, Attie!" the laid back and barely clothed Dionysus prodded loudly. "You're in for a rough time as a god without a healthy appetite for self-aggrandisement! Not often you get to talk yourself up in front of all of Olympus!"

"That's a lie, that's all you lot do up here," Artemis corrected.

"Fair, but it's not every day you can do that and have people listen!"

"Go on, lad!" Kratos shouted. "Do your father proud!"

Atreus sighed. He imagined the last thing his father would be proud of would be someone talking about how great they were. Or talking to alternate versions of people he killed. Or... Talking in general, really. He wasn't a big fan.

Still, if Atreus wanted time, resources, room to manoeuvre, the chance to find out exactly how he got here and how he could get home, it was best for him to play along. "Well, I don't know a lot about how I was born." He looked around to see the musicians had changed from festive sounding music to something more appropriate mood music. "The man who raised me said he was from Sparta. I don't know if that's where I was born. But my first memories were in Midgard. He and his wife raised me out in the wilderness."

"Midgard?" Athena echoed, perplexed.

"Hush, let the little godling speak," Aphrodite chided.

"We were alone out there," Atreus continued. "I didn't know it, but mother had set up a protection stave around our woods so no one would bother us. To protect us. But then, she died, and it went with her. Her dying wish was to have her ashes scattered from the highest peak in the realms. Father thought I wasn't ready. But with our protections gone, people were coming. Strong warriors who, I guess, they wanted to find me. Father fought them off, but we couldn't stay still, so we began our journey. It was hard. We fought a lot of battles and Father was right. I wasn't ready."

"Don't leave us in suspense! Tell us of some of them!" Ares cajoled.

"I mean, I don't know what would be good. There were a lot, and really fighting a bunch of trolls and ogres got kinda samey after a while. Oh, but I guess the first time we fought an ogre was something. It slammed open a big stone door while Father was trying to open it. It tried to bite my head off–" The music picked up and Atreus found himself caught in its pace. "Father's arm punched out at the last moment, letting it get caught between the ogre's jaws but missing the fangs. Then while it was stuck, I stabbed it in the eye!"

"Ha! Wonderful! My son, undaunted in the face of danger!" Kratos cheered while... Flexing.

"Come on, you can do better than that." Artemis spoke with folded arms and a smirk. "You really don't know what tale to tell? You seemed certain of the right answer last night."

"Sister?" a new voice asked.

"Ah, Apollo!" Zeus greeted yet another of his sons. "Young Atreus is regaling us with the tale of his origins. It seems your sister knows he's holding something back."

"Is that so?"

The new face was unreadable. Like he was being very careful to appear neutral. His sun-coloured eyes however, burned with an unsettling intensity. Maybe that was normal for him. It was impossible for Atreus to tell.

"Well, there was the time we fought a dragon."

"What?" Three voices at once. Zeus in disbelief. Ares in glee. Apollo in doubt.

"We were climbing a mountain, thinking it was the highest peak. The dwarves had mined out the inside so they had built elevators inside that could take us up faster. But on the way up, we found a warning about 'Hraezlyr'. We didn't know what it was until it attacked the elevator while we were riding it. We tried to fight it off but it was huge and angry. I couldn't even do anything as Father knocked the elevator off its pulley to slam us into the monster. It was hurt enough that it ran away, but it ran away in the direction we needed to go, so we followed it."

Kratos remained enthusiastic. "Chasing a monster, refusing to let a battle remain unfinished!"

"Must not have been a notable dragon." Apollo mused.

"It wasn't," Atreus agreed immediately, not at all shy about it. "It had been living inside the mountain for so long it was disfigured, it couldn't even fly anymore. Didn't really change that it could have eaten a hundred of us and not been full. Anyway, we got outside the cave to find the dragon had found new prey. A friend we had made on our journey. We couldn't leave him to that. So Father jumped on the dragon's back and climbed into its mouth, chopping with his axe, while I made sure our friend was okay. Father kept it busy, using the wound on its head to hurt it more. Then we used a crane to force it onto a spike of crystal that exploded when struck by lightning. It went into Hraezlyr's neck and since it was a dragon that breathed lightning it, uh..."

As he trailed off, the musicians decided to finish for him with an oddly pleasant explosion of noise. They really were good.

"My my! Minor dragon or not," Poseidon declared, "That is quite the impressive feat!"

"Do you have any proof of this boast?" Apollo asked mildly. "Surely you took a trophy from such a legendary battle."

Artemis smiled at her brother. "His bow."

"Uh, well I don't know if it's proof," Atreus hedged. "But after it was over, our friend did this as gratitude." He unshouldered his bow that he barely even realised he was carrying anymore it was such habit. Nocking an arrow, he drew it back, the shaft instantly igniting with golden lightning.

"I checked," Artemis said with a smirk. "It's draconic alright. Used it to kill the boar. Would you like to cast more doubts over the story, brother?"

"Wouldn't dream of it, sister."

"After everything, we finally found a way to Jotunheim, and scattered Mother's ashes from the highest peak in the realms. It was only in the moments before then that Father told me the truth. After everything we had been through, I had proven that I was ready. But a while after we returned home, one of the enemies we made came back for revenge and... I don't know what happened. I woke up looking up at Odin and one of the valkyries. From there, you all pretty much know what happened."

"Hm," Dionysus hummed, draining his goblet of wine. "I'd give it a four out of ten. Bonus points for the content, that's a hell of a story fighting a dragon so young! But you need to work on your telling, Attie!" Dropping his hand on the boy's shoulder, he offered a winning smile. "Don't you worry. Uncle Dio's gonna get you up to snuff!"

"I have a wonderful idea!" Aphrodite exclaimed, bouncing in a distracting manner. "We must have father and son in the gymnasium!"

"What?" Atreus asked, having absolutely no idea what that meant.

"A wonderful idea indeed!" Whatever it meant, it had Kratos immediately removing his clothing as he strode toward his supposed son. "A match! Bonds between men can never be forged faster than in combat! A good, healthy spar is just what this situation calls for! Come, Atreus! You will show me the kind of man my son shall be, and I shall show you the kind of man your real father is! The man who raised you has gotten quite the headstart! I must do whatever I can to catch up!"

"I still don't– Ah!"

Before the boy knew it, he was being carried into another room, or rather another space as it was in fact open to the elements. A large open area dominated the space, covered in sand.

"Servants, the oils for our young Atreus!" Zeus ordered.

"The what?"

Artemis pulled him along. "I'll do it." Taking him to a quieter corner of the space as the other gods and goddesses began to gossip over the show they were about to have, Artemis shot Atreus an understanding look. "Not familiar?" she asked. "Arrogance and self-importance like I said. I bet only a couple of them even realised you said you were raised outside of our customs. Probably thought it more amusing if they didn't tell you as well."

"Okay, then what's happening?" he asked, some of his frustrations leaking through.

"You're going to engage in pankration with Kratos," she informed him. "No holds barred fighting. No weapons and bare. Clothes off."

"Wait, I have to fight–? No, wait, I have to be naked?!"

"Keep your undergarments on if you like. Hey, Kratos!" she shouted over to where the musclebound god was getting a fresh coating of oil of his own. "Put your dick away!"

"I– Hey!" Atreus complained as his tunic was pulled over his head. "I don't even know what's happening anymore."

"It's all one big show," the goddess of the hunt told him as she continued helping him strip before applying a coating of oil. "You're the entertainment. I don't know if Kratos is doing his best or if he's just using you as another ego boost. That loud and overbearing thing over there is my father and he has left me more than a little biassed on the subject. You're perhaps starting to see why I prefer to enjoy my time alone in the forest?"

Atreus tried not to blush as a beautiful woman coated his body with oil. Even if she did so with a scowl and while bitching about her parentage, it was still far closer to the fairer sex than he had ever been before. "So what do I do?"

"Fight him, I suppose," Artemis shrugged. "If he's doing his best, he's communicating in the only way he knows how. So you should meet him halfway. If he's being the typical god, you shouldn't insult him by refusing because he'll hold a grudge for a century at least."

"It's starting to feel like everything leads to some kind of grudge."

"Good. You're catching on quick." She sighed, giving him a commiserating look. "How about this. If it all gets too much, I wouldn't mind too much if you came to hang out with Callisto and I. So long as you pull your own weight and keep your eyes and hands to yourself, that is."

"Atreus, are you ready?!" Kratos boomed, leaping upward and slamming down into the sand of the ring. "Today our fists shall meet for the first time!"

That sounded like it would end badly for Atreus' fists. But they probably wouldn't let him die right after meeting him, right? No, he was thinking about this wrong. It might have been with his father's help, but Atreus had fought gods before. Magni and Modi. And Baldur. He could do this. Father hadn't let him sit idle after they had finished their journey. He had learned. He wasn't helpless.

The boy stepped into the ring with far less flair than his opponent. Taking the stance his father had taught him. One that, surprisingly, this Kratos also took. Oh, this was probably what his father had been teaching him back then. Whatever this pankration fighting method was. Arms up, turned just off to the side from his opponent. The burly man smiled at the sight and closed quickly, throwing out a testing punch. But even that test shook the air around Atreus' head, the boy having slipped away from it.

He puffed a breath. Father taught him. The power of a strike only mattered if it hit. He dipped lower and punched upward–

Kratos darted back. "Hey! No groin shots!"

Atreus blinked. "Is that bad? Father told me not to ignore obvious weak points."

Ares about doubled over laughing. "The man who raised you was wise, Atreus!" the god of war praised as he wiped a tear from his eye. "But the rules of pankration forbid assaults on the genitals and gouging the eyes, nose and mouth. Anything else is entirely fair."

"Oh." The boy turned back to his 'father'. "Sorry."

"Well I can forgive this indiscretion made in ignorance," Kratos offered. "Seriously though, no hitting the junk."

"Okay."

Once again they squared off. The god of strength came in with heavy strikes, any of which would have sent Atreus flying if they had actually landed. The boy didn't know whether he was going easy on him, but he capitalised on it regardless. After all, don't ignore obvious weak points. Though he hesitated a fraction of an instant to not aim at the low hanging fruit, instead hammering several punches into Kratos' midsection to very little effect.

"Haha, not bad, not bad!" Kratos exclaimed, grabbing an offending arm and wrenching it to bring the boy down into a submission hold.

Only to be surprised when that boy somewhat turned it around. Obviously not putting the much larger and stronger god into a worthwhile hold, but certainly escaping the trap. Then swinging himself around for a rear choke that would have been far more effective if Atreus had his bow.

From there, to the audience, it seemed to be exactly what they expected to see. Atreus clambering over the god of strength, only to be quickly removed and thrown forcefully down into the sand, kicked away and rolled to his feet. Then attacking again and the process seeming to broadly repeat. Rough-housing. That was what it looked like. A father and son bonding for the first time over combat, just like Kratos had wanted.

What they didn't see, or rather what most of them didn't see, was the escalation in effort from both sides. Kratos holding back less. Atreus struggling to keep up and overcome. Less and less and less restraint over the course of minutes. It wasn't Kratos trying to gauge his supposed son's strength. Atreus could tell. On some level, it was exactly what Artemis was afraid of. Kratos wasn't trying to push his son. He was making sure Atreus wouldn't humiliate him.

For whatever could be said of this Kratos' strength, it couldn't be said of his fighting ability. Over and over again, vaguely similar movements, with vaguely similar responses. The only reason Atreus failed to meaningfully capitalise was down to their different size and raw power. This Kratos, far from the war-forged god his real father was, was instead a self-impressed egotist who never had to try. Didn't know what it was like to struggle or need to out-think or out-manoeuvre his opponent. All he ever had to do was put in his full effort and he would overcome with sheer brute force. He was the god of strength, and so strength was his first, last and only option. Maybe it was because it was just his nature, or maybe Atreus had hit the nail on the head believing the alternate of his father never needed to struggle as his real father clearly had. His comments on Atreus' story before made more sense in that context.

And so as he was continually bested in terms of agility and skill, Kratos held less of his strength back. The punches and kicks came faster and stronger until they kicked up a whirlwind of sand with every swing. His last throw broke Atreus ribs and the following kick left the boy coughing up blood.

Atreus didn't attack again. He knew what he had to do. He knew what Kratos really wanted. "I yield."

The musclebound god's expression that had gradually been turning toward a stormy frown, suddenly brightened to a jovial smile. "Haha! A valiant effort, son! But your old man is the strongest there is!"

"Yeah, I get that now..."

"Come! We shall return to the feast!" Kratos declared, not waiting at all to return to the banquet hall, unbothered by the state he left his son in.

Of course, Atreus didn't immediately follow. He didn't know if he would be able to follow.

"Atreus, are you alright?" Artemis asked, wearing a disquieted frown.

The half giant let out a racking cough, spewing blood on the sand. "In a while, will be."

"Sit up, little godling," another female voice insisted, putting a cup up to his lips and tipping it. "Drink up."

His lips parted, tasting a delicate and sweet flavour coating his tongue before it slipped down his throat. "What... What is that?" he rasped, feeling his injuries lessen. Or at least he felt them less.

"Ambrosia, darling," Aphrodite said with a light tone and indulgent smile. "One can never ask for a better pick-me-up." Sadness entered her eyes. "I'm sorry he isn't what you hoped, little godling. Kratos is who he is. Not all that bright and he only values one thing."

"Himself," Artemis muttered.

"I would say strength, but your answer isn't entirely wrong either. He only loves himself. And while I have no problem at all with a little self-love–"

"No kidding."

"–You would have more luck getting a snail to tapdance than getting any love from him." The nudist pink-haired goddess of love leaned close to whisper, close enough that things were brushing him in places. "Your undivided filial love for your foster parents can remain our little secret," she assured him, winking as she leaned away again.

"How do you–" Atreus mumbled through his blush.

"I'm Aphrodite, little godling! All love is my domain!"

-(-)-

A/N: This chapter seen super early by my generous supporters on THE GREAT FORBIDDEN P! FEAR THE P! LOVE THE P!