Kratos' bellows were more than a match for the roar of Fafnir. While the storm of golden lightning was a problem to be avoided, the Spartan had fought a dragon before. Had dodged that same lightning before. From the crippled beast Hraezlyr, to Otr, to Reginn, to Fafnir himself. Kratos had a great deal of practice avoiding that particular danger. And that had been while also protecting Atreus. While keeping as much of the beasts' attention on himself. He had nothing to fear from that.
"Brother! Lightning! LIGHTNING!" Mimir screamed in warning as Kratos ran away from the diving dragon.
"I AM AWARE!" It was a threat, but Kratos had the battlefield awareness and experience to feel the threat. To understand the aim. He quickly slid to the side, avoiding the blast of dragon breath. Fafnir winging away to turn and make another pass.
"You claimed this Fafnir was once a dwarf!" the god exclaimed over the roaring dragon.
"Aye! Little greedy bugger!"
"Then why does he refuse to negotiate?! Can he only think as a beast now?!"
"Hard to say!" Mimir answered. "Like I say, he was a greedy bugger. Could be he's all dragon now, could be he doesn't see anything in it for him. Even if he can think, he'll struggle talkin' wi' that mouth o' his!"
"Hrm..." Kratos stared at the looming winged beast. "If that is the case, man or beast, I will force it to see reason."
"Oh bollocks, I was afraid o' that..."
Kratos grunted in acknowledgement. A dragon was a dangerous beast, but he had handled worse, larger, more ferocious. "It has only one head," he commented dismissively.
"What the bloody hell's that supposed ta mean?!"
In answer, Kratos flipped the blades in his hands before clanging them together in challenge. The flames of chaos exploding from the simple impact. Fafnir bellowed more lightning, only for the Spartan to hold firm behind his shield. As if to prove that the breath was a feeble weapon, unworthy and unable to defeat him. Fafnir recognised that challenge, and accepted it. Once again, Kratos wondered if Fafnir still had a thinking mind. Would a greedy, avaricious soul care about being goaded like this? Or maybe Fafnir saw something he desired. Brok hadn't been shy about his admiration for the Blades of Chaos either.
In either case, the dragon swooped down in a dive of such speeds that he was intent to crush Kratos with all the speed and power he was capable of. The wingbeats ceased, the beast's form straightening to give it all the velocity it could generate as it literally fell upon the bearded god.
And in the moment before the beast struck, Kratos anchored one blade in the outcrop he had previously hidden behind. Leapt over the beast, looping the chain around the equivalent of its shoulder before throwing and anchoring the other blade. With a heave, the dragon found its momentum very suddenly and forcefully arrested. A near-deafening crack as most of the force of its dive was suddenly reversed, taken directly on that shoulder. The blades came loose from that same pull, only for Kratos to whip them around the dragon's neck and begin pulling as he ran down Fafnir's back. The chains acting as reins forcefully pulling the beast's head up, forcing it to ascend, before dragging it back down as the Spartan landed. Heaving with all his might to bring the beast back down again.
And so, suddenly, the dragon that had been soaring above, seemingly untouchable, was splayed out on its back, roaring in pain.
"Correct me if Ah'm wrong, Brother. But did you just throw a bloody dragon?" Mimir sounded faint even asking the question.
The god grunted. "A question of leverage. Nothing more."
"Leverage, he says. Just how strong are you?"
Watching the dragon awkwardly roll to its feet, Kratos began walking towards it. "Strong enough to do what must be done at any given moment."
"Well, I fear we're goin' ta see that put to the test one o' these days... More than today, that is."
Fafnir rose, leaning awkwardly on three legs. His right forelimb jutted awkwardly, the dragon unwilling or unable to put any weight on it. He hissed, his maw opened, letting out a roar at close range, though only emitting sound and not deadly lightning.
"Ow," Mimir said all the same.
Kratos stood unmoved against the dragon's anger. "Yes. That hurt a great deal, I am aware." Though his words answered both head and dragon, they were only for Fafnir. Who took exception to them and lunged, attempting to bite the comparatively small god in half. Kratos' response was to simply leap over the approaching jaws and slam his shield down on the beast's head. Hard enough that Fafnir's head slammed into the canyon floor, forcing his jaws shut.
Once again, Kratos returned to standing in front of the dragon, unmoved by his rage. "Thinking or unthinking, you should realise how this ends if you continue to fight." He glared, demanding an answer. "Can you speak? Can you think?"
Fafnir snarled again, still furious. But even so, he shook his head.
So he could understand, but not speak. "Hm. Then I will speak."
"Ehh, Brother? This is really more of my bailiwick, don't you think?"
"The boy who freed you from your prison," Kratos continued. "He has been lost. I would find him. And I would have your assistance to do so. You owe him your freedom."
Fafnir sniffed disdainfully, the maw almost seeming to curl into a sneer.
"Ah think that means, 'I don't owe shit'," the head translated helpfully.
Frustrated, Kratos closed his eyes for a moment. Under the mistaken impression it was some sort of opportunity, the dragon reared back... Only to settle again when those same eyes snapped open and glared him down. Willed him to submit. "Very well. Honour, gratitude and respect do not sway you." Appealing to a greedy dwarf-cum-dragon's good nature was perhaps a fool's hope. But the god had not come unprepared to bargain. "I am told you coveted treasures before taking your current form." Pulling a pouch from his belt, he upended it and emptied it out onto the floor. Gold, jewels, precious sculptures tumbled out. "You have seen this. You have seen the blades I carry. I have travelled the realms and beyond and have gathered many such treasures. Assist me, and you may have a portion of what I have collected."
Fafnir appeared to consider. Reached out for the small pile of treasure and seeing no intent to stop him from the god, scooped it up into the claws of his more functional forelimb. Letting out what could be considered a more agreeable screech, Fafnir's head bobbed as if he were nodding. Then, turned away.
At that moment, the Blades of Chaos once again struck out, wrapped around the injured limb as Kratos pulled. Fafnir let out a roar of betrayal and pain, but as he tried to swipe at the retreating blades, he found the pain and awkwardness of the injury had lessened greatly. Enough that he could stand on it.
Kratos nodded at the dragon's suspicious gaze. "There are other dragons I can seek the aid of," he warned. "Do not attempt to cross me, or I will be far less generous."
The dragon barked, before taking off with the minor treasures Kratos had provided.
"Well," Mimir said, finally releasing a breath of tension from non-existent lungs. "A bit more forceful diplomacy than I usually prefer, but... I reckon he wouldn't have listened to anyone tryin' ta butter 'im up. Credit for the effort, an' all. Ah think that might be the most words I've heard you speak in a row. Now what? Check on what Brok and Sindri are cooking up?"
Kratos shook his head. "As I said. There are other dragons we can seek the aid of. And we shall."
"Oh bugger."
-(-)-
Atreus had been nearly alone for his entire life. Living with just his parents, then with just his father. They travelled, and on that journey they met only a handful of other people. And then, shortly after arriving in these lands, he was taken to a town, with people moving every which way going about their days. He climbed a mountain, climbed the mountain in the realm of the gods and experienced a feast. A celebration. So many people. Dozens. Gods and mortals alike. It was overwhelming, even more so when he was made the centre of attention. For all the unpleasantness of how it happened, a part of him was glad when Kratos left him spitting blood in the gymnasium. The others had their amusement at his expense and finally he was left mostly alone. In the care of Artemis and Aphrodite. The gods he actually liked.
Even if Aphrodite made him feel funny. Part of him wished she would put on clothes. Another part thought the first part was dumb and should keep its stupid opinions to itself. The second might even have been the same part that really liked when Artemis smiled at him. She didn't smile often, so he couldn't help but appreciate every time he saw it. She was so nice in her way, she deserved reasons to smile.
But yes. Crowds. He wasn't used to them then, and his experience with them didn't endear him to them at all.
"Here they come, here they come, oh my god!"
And now here he was again. The centre of attention. Or not quite.
Kratos had declared this to be a journey of training and adventure. Maybe at some point he had intended it to be such. Atreus could only guess. Because shortly after they had descended to the mortal realm again they had gone to a mortal gymnasium. A place of training. Atreus barely had time to be in awe of just how different this world was. How easy and comfortable it was. It didn't take long at all for the god of strength to wow onlookers with his incredible feats. At least, by mortal standards. First bench-pressing incredible weight. People were in awe. And he asked for a real challenge. The people running the place brought out what they claimed were stunt weights for people to show off, or make fools of themselves.
"Stunt weights?" Kratos had asked. "Then I must perform stunts with them!"
Atreus had watched his 'father' laugh boisterously under the cheers and applause as he juggled kettlebell weights meant to be a struggle for the strongest mortal men. Somehow, he found the display grotesque. The boy felt discomfort regarding showing off, revelling in superiority. That desire, that feeling, it was the cause of the worst thing Atreus had ever done. And so it was difficult to accept someone doing the same. Then again, his last time seeing Artemis, she had shown off just the same and he hadn't felt that way then. Maybe it was because it was Artemis and he liked Artemis. He couldn't dismiss the possibility. But even then, Artemis was demonstrating incredible skill and magic not just to be superior, but to be an example of how far Atreus could go. At least that was how Atreus took it.
This, though. What Kratos was doing. There was no reason to it. None at all. All of the people watching were thoroughly impressed, amazed. But what did that matter? They were only impressed because they believed Kratos was a mortal man like they were. He wasn't. He was a god. Atreus had wandered over to the bar that still carried the weight discs Kratos had so impressed with previously. He lifted it easily. With one hand, even. They were gods. Strength came with that, even for Atreus who was not at all built the same, who was so much younger, so much weaker. If he were to grab that same kettle weight, he would probably be able to lift it just as easily as Kratos was. Any god could do it.
Worse. Kratos was not simply any god. He was the god of strength. His entire nature was raw, physical power. Much like Atreus' real father had, this Kratos could likely lift and throw the entire building. The weights? They required essentially no effort to lift. It was like he was soaking in adoration for the mighty feat of putting one foot in front of the other. To any with knowledge of who Kratos really was, it was clear what was happening. The god of strength was revelling in joyous self-satisfaction, in adoration, for actions that came as easily as breathing.
Atreus didn't like it. Not just what Kratos was doing, but how it made Atreus feel. Some unpleasant mix of pity and disgust.
"Why are you doing this?" Atreus had asked when the crowds dispersed for a moment, the gymnasium staff insisting Kratos take a break 'for his own safety'.
"Ah, Atreus!" Kratos had answered, evidently having forgotten the boy was even there. "What do you mean? Ah, I apologise!" the god of strength laughed. "I have been taking all of the attention, haven't I? You should get a chance to show your stuff too!"
"No, that's not what I mean. I mean... What do you get out of this? All this stuff is impressive to them, but we're gods." He suppressed the sudden shudder of revulsion as he unintentionally echoed something he had said in a much darker context. He picked up the kettlebell. Hefted it with ease. "Of course we can do this. How is this impressive? How is it worth celebrating?"
"You answered your own question, boy!" Kratos had answered with a boisterous laugh. "It's worth celebrating because we're gods! Gods are worth celebrating! It's in our nature as beings that exist so far above mortals! They tell tales of our exploits, they build statues in our honour, they ask for our blessings, all because we stand so far above! We are the pinnacle of existence! The proud, the perfect, the example that mortal men and women attempt to adhere to! The wisdom of Athena! The beauty of Aphrodite! The skill of Artemis! The greatness of Zeus! The vigour of Poseidon! The duty of Hades! And of course," taking on a pose that showed off every cord of rippling muscle, "The power of Kratos!"
"So... You're trying to inspire people?" Atreus had asked, his voice dripping with scepticism.
"Atreus, my boy," Kratos said solemnly, laying a hand on the shoulder of his 'son'. "We live in a time of uneasy peace. The wars of gods, men, monsters, they have long passed. In truth, there is very little for we gods to do these days. Our influence on mortals has diminished over the past millennia with the dominance of the three factions. Monsters have been slain or contained. Many great evils of the world are protected by the peace no one wants to break. And so, if the only purpose we serve for now is to be an ideal, well," he took on another pose, "Then I shall be an ideal! For strength is an ideal worth striving for!"
It was strange. Atreus still wasn't sure he believed it. But for all that Kratos spoke of some things he didn't understand, he had no idea who the three factions were, it still made some amount of sense. Once again, and far from the first time, Atreus pulled from his own experiences of gods. Particularly their impact on those who worshipped them. The spirit who swore vengeance upon Thor, after being a devout worshipper of the ideal until the genuine article came calling. Tainted by personal experience or not, the stories of Freya making sacrifices to broker peace between Vanir and Aesir. And of course, the many, many stories Mimir had told of what a force for good, what an icon Tyr was to the people who worshipped him.
Gods failing to live up to their supposed ideals could bring horrors beyond imagining. But being symbols of those ideals? An image worth striving to emulate? That, he could maybe understand. Mimir himself had suggested trying to be more like Tyr. A god who lived up to his ideals to the very end.
Still, this Kratos sure did like it when people fawned over him. He could dress it up all he liked. He also just liked the attention. And so, when the show resumed, and the impressive feats stopped being quite so impressive, Kratos felt compelled to go bigger. Someone had joked about him pulling buses, whatever those were. And... Kratos had an idea.
This was how showing off for a few dozen people in a gymnasium turned to Atreus' current situation. The muscular Kratos naked save for a pair of trunks. Running down a road, pulling a vehicle people referred to as an 'eighteen wheeler'. Atreus similarly outfitted with a smaller vehicle, seemingly meant to carry people. One of those buses that had been mentioned.
It was... Embarrassing. For many reasons. Not just because he was similarly attired to Kratos. Or for the girls around his age who were paying an unexpected amount of attention to him. Or for the crowds. So many crowds. A small spectacle had so very suddenly jumped to being a very, very large spectacle. No, what was embarrassing was that for all of his prior disquiet for Kratos' self-impressed grandstanding, the boy had to admit... It did feel good to be admired. He just had to promise himself he wouldn't let it go to his head.
And so began an event that would later be known as the Father and Son Muscle Power Tour. As a mystery man and his son trekked across Europe and Asia pulling heavy vehicles with only their own raw strength. A marvel of manly might made manifest!
It seemed they were going on a journey of training and adventure after all. Just one that was unlike anything Atreus would have imagined.
-(-)-
The house was not what it once was. She knew that.
Eigh hundred years. Eight hundred years had passed since any manner of light and joy had passed from their realm forever. Now, it was exactly what the mortals feared it would be when they finally, inevitably arrived here. It had not been a home of good cheer and honest familial bonds even before then, but it was more than this. Duty. Diligence. These were words that dominated the nature of the house. Doctrine handed down from the one who ruled it. Those under him working to meet his lofty expectations, no matter how ill-equipped they might have been.
And then... Suddenly the one thing that brought joy and light to this dismal place... Was snuffed out forever. And with it, so too fled the principled man the ruler had been. Replaced with a pale imitation. A creature of spite. Of vile hatred and resentment. Lashing out for his growing irrelevance, caused by the very beings that stole the joy from his life. He had been a difficult man to serve back then, no matter her own relation to him. But now? She served, mostly out of respect for the man he had once been. Because much as it pained her, she had no respect for what he had become.
"A new god, they say," he scoffed. Vicious and snide. "A new member of the pantheon. Of the 'family'. How surprising that they would even care to notice anything happening beyond the peak of their mountain. The fools."
"They offered invitation," the lady by his side spoke in her gentle, ethereal voice. "For you to meet him at least the once."
"Pah. Of course they did. As the bats and crows make a mockery of us, they do nothing. But I am obligated to attend their whims for the most pointless of events. A son of the brute Kratos. A more meaningless existence for a god I could scarcely imagine."
"Even so," she spoke up, and immediately wished she hadn't as the lord's attention fell on her. But she hadn't spoken arbitrarily. "If... If he is a new deity. Perhaps he would be sympathetic to our cause. Perhaps it would be worth making contact with him."
The lady inclined her head. "This is true. Young or not, a god is a god. Another among our allies would be worthwhile. And perhaps his attachments to Olympus might move them to action if this Atreus is so moved."
"Hm." The skeleton that had once been a dour-faced, bearded man grunted. "There are worse ways for my daughter to spend her time. Melinoé, it was your suggestion, and so you shall make the attempt to win his allegiance. Do not disappoint me."
She bowed her head low, doing everything in her power to avoid showing her true feelings. "I understand, Father."
The daughter of Hades bowed lower for only as long as was proper, before extending her spectral left arm. A portal formed, and as she stepped through, she let a hint of her true feelings show on her face, of the resolve she had not lost over the centuries.
Yes. A new god might be more sympathetic to her father's cause. But there was a chance he would also be sympathetic to hers.
-(-)-
A/N: This chapter seen very early by my generous supporters on THE GREAT FORBIDDEN P! FEAR THE P! LOVE THE P!