#Kratos understands that better than anyone else that sindri knows | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

grievedeeply · 4 months

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the less time, the better. pt 8.

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pairing: heimdall x gn!reader

summary: still reeling from the events of what happened on niflheim, you grapple with having heimdall by your side while surrounded by people who hate him.

notes: thank you all so much for the continued love and support on this silly little series. this is taking so long because i fluctuate in and out of my god of war obsession.. so i'm very sorry for making you all wait forever lol. tagged everyone who was tagged last time, but if you're no longer interested please let me know! thank you again and please enjoy this chapter and the canon divergences <3

your father didn't know who he was at first— heimdall. he stared at him with narrowed eyes for a few moments then turned his attention back to you, his gaze softening as soon as he did so. you could feel his presence behind you. you could tell he felt out of place, scared.. these people, this man standing in front of him was the one who killed his brother, his nephews. even if he was never particularly close to them in the first place.. they all meant something to someone, didn't they?

did he? did he mean something to anyone? if kratos killed him right then and there.. would someone back in asgard care? would his father mourn him?

he shoved the thought out of his head and kept focused on the task at hand. the man in front of him had yet to pull out a weapon, so he didn't either. instead, his eyes drifted to you, only for you to be looking at him already.

"who is this?" your father's voice rang out in the silence, echoing throughout the branches of the yggdrasil. "that's.. uh," you chuckled awkwardly, lips pressed together in a thin line as you turn your focus back to him. "let's get home first, yeah?" you changed the subject, deciding that having him sit down for this whole conversation would be better than having it here.

he only grunted, still eyeing him suspiciously.

deciding to take the initiative, you gestured for him to follow after you. he was stuck here now, at least for the time being, and you know odin would want him back. with him at sindri's.. you had a feeling that the environment would be far from a calm one. you wanted to groan at that realization. why did you have to reach out to him like that? it would've been fine if he was still there!

the gateway door opened and you walked through, the feeling of warmth washing over you as you did so. heimdall followed after you and your father came close behind, his eyes still focused on him.

this would be awkward, and this would be horrible. what kind of reasonable explanation was there for an aesir god to be here? you supposed the only thing to do was tell the truth and hope that they would understand. but would they, really? heimdall wasn't their friend. they didn't know him like you did.

they didn't see that vulnerable side of him that you saw back on niflheim. that conversation replayed over and over in your mind as you pushed the door open to sindri's house. this would be horrible, you told yourself.. but you'd get through it. you got through everything.

"y/n!" you heard atreus' voice approach you, arms immediately wrapping around you as you got inside. you chuckled, returning his hug after recovering from the impact of him running at you. "i missed you," you told him, pulling away enough to look at him. "i missed you-" he cut himself off, brows furrowing as his eyes shifted from you to heimdall, who looked incredibly uncomfortable by this entire situation.

"who's that?" he asked, looking back at you. he pulled away, tilting his head as he took in heimdall's appearance. his eyes widened as he settled on the horn on his back and he turned his head to look at you once more. "don't-" you cut him off before he could say anything else, lips pursed into a fake smile. he blinked a few times and let out a sigh.

"heimdall?" freya's voice sounded out from across the house, hands on her hips as she walked towards you. you heard your father grunt again, in frustration this time. you expected he would have more to say about this whole thing, but he seemed suspiciously silent.

"frigg," heimdall spoke up for the first time since arriving on the branches of the yggdrasil. "don't call me that," she replied without missing a beat. "what is he doing here?" she asked you. you knew she had little personal history with him.. but she surely didn't like him all the same. anyone associated with odin was horrible in her book.

"i didn't mean to.. bring him with me," you muttered. by now, the entire house surrounded you. atreus had left to go pick up mimir from your father's room, knowing that he would want to watch whatever happened. "it was an accident, really." you sighed, scratching at the back of your neck.

"an accident?" sindri said. "it should've only been one person.." he murmured. you assumed it was directly only to himself than to you or anyone else as he eyed heimdall. "can he leave?" brok's voice rang out, arms crossed over his chest. "he ain't supposed to be here," he continued after a pause, referring to your obvious plan to kill odin. you were sure he knew about that already.

you let out a breath. this had been going better than you'd expected.

"no." you heard your father say from behind you, deep baritone echoing throughout the confines of the house. "we use him."

"what?" atreus asked, brows furrowed. in his hand, mimir seemed to already know what he was suggesting.

"we keep him here. begin ragnarok under our terms. use him as leverage."

heimdall laughed, shaking his head. "if you think the allfather will come for me, you'd be sorely mistaken."

it seemed like, in your time away from asgard, he had taken some time to think about his relationship with his father. had he finally realized that he only ever wanted to use him as a tool? he had never cared for him. did he know that, now?

"he will want the horn." your father muttered, eyes narrowing at heimdall as they had done so many times before. you swore you could see something fall in his eyes at the realization that he was right. he wouldn't want his son. he would want the horn.

he fell silent, clearly unhappy. there was a part of you that wanted to rub it in his face— the fact that you were right— but the other wanted to comfort him. you pushed the thought aside, your eyes focusing in on the rest standing around you.

sindri's expression was a wary one. an aesir, in his house? you were sure he hated the thought of it, but he didn't speak up to voice his concerns about it either. brok looked like he wanted to punch heimdall then and now and freya's expression almost matched his.

freyr had been suspiciously quiet the entire time, but that silence was quickly broken. "no," he laughed, shaking his head. "his family burned me alive." he held out his arms in front of him, eyes trailing down to look at his burnt skin that had never fully healed. "sorry, but no. it's a no from me." he said after a pause.

freya seemed torn on the whole idea. you knew she had only recently mended the relationship she had with her brother, and disagreeing could put another rift between them. she pursed her lips. "if he gets me closer to killing odin, so be it." she said.

"fine," mimir spoke. "but i won't like it!" he continued after a brief pause.

you heard tyr sigh from where he stood, his eyes studying heimdall who had still yet to say anything else since your father pointed out how odin would want the horn back. "this isn't a good idea," he settled on saying, eyes shifting over you and to your father who now stood next to you.

"i say we do it," atreus chimed in, cutting him off from saying anything else.

you felt their eyes on you, all waiting for your thoughts. your gaze trailed over to him, lips pursed. would it be better here for him? could he eventually be an ally? would he ever want to be? you could only imagine the turmoil he was dealing with in his mind. his bright purple eyes met yours briefly, and you swallowed the lump that had formed in your throat.

"yeah, okay." you concluded, awkwardly looking around at everyone else. you could only hope that this was the right decision. a decision that led you and everyone else down the right path.

"that settles it, then!" brok exclaimed. "majority rules, he stays." he stated.

freyr looked uncomfortable and you felt bad for making him deal with this. you understood why he didn't want him around.. but he could help. he could, if he wanted to.

with the conversation concluded, everyone split apart, looking over their shoulder as if heimdall would attack them right then and there. you cleared your throat. the only people next to you now were him and your father.

"he's alright," you muttered. it was something you would never imagine saying when you first met him, but it was the truth. he was cocky and annoying and full of himself.. but he was alright. your thoughts drifted back to the moment you'd shared in niflheim, how he had looked at you as though you were the only person in the realms he cared about.

your father said nothing in response to you, his eyes now focused on the wall in front of him. you could only watch him walk away, your heart sinking as he did.

you couldn't help but to think you'd disappointed him.

before you could dig yourself into an even deeper hole, you turned your focus back to heimdall. he looked a little more grounded now and you had wondered what he was thinking about when the entire conversation was happening. you cleared your throat, chest feeling heavy at the entire situation.

"c'mon." you told him, gesturing for him to follow you. you led him out the front door and onto the branches of the yggdrasil again. everything felt much lighter than it did with your father.

"your father," he cut himself off, swallowing. "he is right, y'know. you were right." he murmured, gaze stuck onto the ground beneath his feet. "everything i did, i did to make him proud." he admitted with a sigh, looking up towards the endless purple above the two of you.

you had brought him to the garden on the side of the house, a place you spent a lot of time at before you ever went to asgard. "i know," you told him, turning your head to look at him. a sigh escaped your lips as you took his hand in your own.

"he wouldn't dream of coming for me." his voice fell to a whisper. "he wants.. the horn." he laughed in disbelief. "i dedicated my entire life to him and i got nothing in return. but why do i still feel.. "

"feel what?"

"guilty. for thinking this way." he replied after a pause.

"you shouldn't. you were.. manipulated, heimdall." his name fell from your lips easily, but he was always happy to hear you say it anyways. "he used you. it's what he does. he uses people." you continued. "but you're his son. it's.. not your fault, for believing that he loved you."

"he never loved me, did he?"

you pursed your lips, deciding to squeeze on his hand instead of saying anything else. in your eyes, the answer was no. odin loved power and he would do anything to get it, including using his own sons.

he shook his head. he still didn't want to believe it all, but he knew it was all true. your words had perhaps gotten through to him too well.

"hey," your voice cut him out of his thoughts and brought him back into reality. "you've got me, now." you hummed, a small smile forming on your lips as you met his eyes. there was something about your gaze that was playful, full of light. something that he needed— that he wanted.

still, he said nothing in response. with every second you spent with him you swore he let you in more. what happened to the less time, the better? you had practically lived off of that statement during your time in asgard. the less time you spent with heimdall, the better it was for you. you supposed the sentiment was still true. after all.. if he wasn't with you on niflheim, perhaps you would be here by yourself and you would never see heimdall again.

that wasn't what you wanted, was it?

it was crazy to think about how quickly your mind changed. he had wiggled his way into your thoughts first, and now he was making himself a home in your heart. a part of you still hated that.

you could only hope everyone else would get used to having him around.

"your father," he started, "he killed my family."

"i know." you replied.

"did you?" he asked.

you immediately knew what he was referring to. while you had no part in the deaths of magni or modi.. your part in baldur's was much bigger. while you didn't strike the killing blow you were certainly part of how he had gotten weak enough to get there.

"i was.. there," you told him. "i.. participated. i wasn't the one who killed him. but i was part of the reason why he died."

heimdall pursed his lips. it wasn't like your answer was surprising. he didn't even know why he cared so much. perhaps it was because baldur was younger than he was. perhaps it was because he had watched him grow up, he had grown alongside him, even. it wasn't like he was close to him. but he would be lying if he said his death didn't bother him.

maybe it bothered him so much because it meant ragnarok. it meant the end, and that scared him more than he would like to admit.

"not a day goes by where i don't think about him." you admitted. your words were truthful. you were certain you would never live a day without picturing his face in your mind. would you always feel as guilty as you do for your part in his death? the answer to it, you didn't know. but you had come to terms with that you had done all the same.

"i'm sure." he said in response, his back pressed up against the wall of sindri's house.

"i'm sorry i brought you here," you changed the topic, "i didn't mean to, really." you sighed.

"it's done now, isn't it?"

you supposed he was right. it was done now, and there was no changing the past.

"still. i'm sorry."

"if you hadn't taken me with you, do you know what i would be doing?" he asked, shifting his gaze to look at you from where he stood. you shook your head.

"i would be patrolling the wall, as i always do. and i would be thinking of you." he laughed, a smile forming on his lips. his grin looked like he was in disbelief. "i would be thinking of you, y/n. that is what i would be doing. but i don't have to do that now, because you brought me here." he breathed out.

"perhaps i should be the one thanking you." he chuckled.

you pressed your lips into a thin line. you thought back to that moment in the mess hall. it felt like forever ago, now. you had teased him, claiming he had feelings for you. t felt like he really did.

would you complain, if he did?

it would be difficult, given the fact that no one in your family was a fan of him. but if you liked him.. why would that matter? after all, your life is your own.

"sounds like you're in love with me." you decided to say, your voice taking on that same tone as it did in the mess hall. only now, it sounded more genuine. less playful and more curious.

"what if i was?" he asked in response, turning his entire body to look at you, now.

"i'd think you were lying."

"i'm not lying. i don't lie." he scoffed. "i do.. feel a certain way for you, y'know." he admitted, purple eyes meeting yours. you swore that you could get lost in them. they almost looked like the sky surrounding you now.

"do you?" you asked.

he nodded.

"i can prove it."

"oh, can you?" you laughed, rolling your eyes.

"would you like me to?" he asked, his voice matching your tone from earlier. suddenly.. this all felt much more serious.

"yeah, okay." you whispered to him.

your words were all he needed to take action. in one swift move, his hand came to rest on your hip and pulled you closer to him. his other hand caressed your cheek, and his lips pressed against yours.

you froze for a moment. 'is this really happening?' you thought to yourself, but it was— it was happening, and you liked that fact. after regaining your composure, you found yourself gripping onto the fabric of his shirt. as you ran your hand over it, you noticed a tear. sewn up now, but a tear, nonetheless.

this was the outfit that he was wearing the day he meant you. this was the shirt you cut through. the shirt that you embarrassed him in, and now the shirt he was kissing you in.

it wasn't very long, but it was enough. he pulled away with a sigh, but quickly pressed his forehead to yours, eyes opening to look at you.

"how is that for proof, hm?" he hummed. you could tell from his voice that he was trying to tease you. you rolled your eyes, shoving at him playfully.

what did this make you?

you didn't know.

maybe everything would be okay after all.

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#god of war x reader #gow x reader #god of war #gow #gow heimdall x reader #god of war heimdall x reader #heimdall x reader #heimdall gow x reader #heimdall #heimdall gow #heimdall god of war #god of war heimdall

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grievedeeply · 1 year

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the less time, the better. pt 5.

PREVIOUS | NEXT — SERIES TAGLIST / GENERAL TAGLIST

pairing: heimdall x gn!reader / familial kratos and atreus

summary: your father returns from vanaheim and you get the chance to talk to him face to face. a familiar face returns.

notes: finally kratos time!! i love writing him as a worried father it's so sweet lol. a little bit of angst this chapter.... anyway. no romance this chapter at all buuut it'll be worth it when it comes around. i hope. enjoy this part and let me know your thoughts!

your father still wasn't home yet.

you had been sitting at the large, wooden table in the center of sindri's house for what felt like years, waiting for him to return. you had nothing to occupy your mind other than thoughts of asgard and what inevitably waited for you when you returned, and the idea of it made you cringe. you could already picture heimdall's cocky smirk, his teasing tone. it was as clear as day in your head, and you hated it.

you knew that, once you returned to asgard, he would rub the fact that you left in your face. he would say you're being childish, or too cowardly. the truth was the opposite. you felt guilty for leaving your family with no answers, and it had been eating at you the entire time you had been there. you were tired of that heavy feeling on your chest, and decided to take charge of your emotions. something that heimdall didn't seem like he could do.

you could picture his expression from the day you met in your mind. he couldn't understand how he lost, so he refused to acknowledge it until weeks later. you saw how pink his cheeks were.. how out of breath he was. the mere thought of it put a smile on your lips. he deserved to be put in his place like that. it felt good.

heimdall acted differently around you than anyone else, and it was obvious. he still retained his obnoxious sense of humor, but he seemed to fluster easier when you were in the room. why was that? was he still embarrassed about losing? you shook the thought out of your mind. he had to be over that by now. it was a shock, and that was fine.. but surely, he had to be over it.

he was a stubborn person. you heard it took plenty of convincing for him to go on the mission to helheim with you, and you weren't surprised. you wished you went with someone else, anyway.

the less time you spent around him, the better it was for you.

he might not have been able to read your intentions like he was with everyone else, but he wasn't stupid. he was odin's pet, and as soon as he noticed your true intentions there was no doubt in your mind that he would report you to him. you would be dead, and heimdall would be victorious. you couldn't let him win. you wouldn't.

atreus sat across from you. you'd been noticing he'd been reaching for his neck more frequently lately— and you noted the absence of the mistletoe that had caused baldur to feel. he had kept it. he said it was a way to remember all he'd been through, but you knew it was more than that. you felt pity for baldur. you knew he did, too. even your father did. it was hard for him to feel bad for someone.

you heard him let out a sigh, and you glanced over at him with pursed lips. "what's got you down?" you decided to ask, leaning back against the uncomfortable wooden framing of the chair. out of the corner of your eye, you saw tyr in the kitchen, his eyes moving across the pages of the book his face was buried in. atreus shrugged, "i don't know." he admitted, finally turning his attention to you. you fell silent, and the house followed suit.

"i miss mom." he told you, breaking through the quiet with his words. you swallowed, "me too." you whispered into the air. you missed her more than anything in the world.

you remembered her hands, the way they used to braid your hair in your youth. you remembered her voice, and how she used to read you to sleep. she did the same to atreus, when he was born. you remembered watching him grow up with her. you were angry at the universe for taking her away so soon. she deserved more.

she was kind. brave. courageous. she was good to the realms, and they were good to her. she was the best person you ever knew. the realms needed more people like her— and she raised you to be that person. she raised atreus in that way, too. the two of you would carry her with you. you promised her that.

the sound of soft sniffing took you out of your thoughts, and you immediately stood from your seat. the floor was slippery. sindri had spent hours mopping earlier in the day, and you could only assume he was doing the same to the second level.

you sat next to your brother, taking both of his hands in yours. they were much bigger than they were years ago, when you were spreading your mother's ashes. the thought of him growing up was always something that had scared you, but he was growing into a mature, kind young man. you were proud of him.

"atreus," you muttered, running your thumbs across the back of his hands. "it's okay to cry." you told him, and all he did was nod. "i cry." you said after a moment, soft laughter escaping from your lips. "i miss her, atreus. more than anything. i always will miss her.. and that's okay." you reassured him. "you're not alone in how you feel. i promise." you squeezed his hands, and he returned the gesture with a small smile. he nodded again, clearing his throat.

"thanks." he took his hands out of yours, using his palms to wipe the tears that fell off of his cheeks. "anytime." you chuckled, a thin lipped smile on your features. you were lucky you had him as your brother.

the sound of brok hammering something from across the room was the only thing that filled your ears, until the familiar sound of the door opening rang through the house.

you looked towards the entrance, and you felt your throat tighten at the sight of your father's silhouette in the doorway. freya entered behind him, but you didn't even pay attention to her. he would be disappointed in you, but you needed to face him. you had to explain everything. he deserved that much.

his eyes softened as soon as they landed on you, and he took long, quick steps to reach you. all you could do was look up at him, and you said nothing. his eyes never left your face. it was almost like he as analyzing you for any sign of injury.

"you are home." his deep baritone spoke out, and you nodded in response. you could see how tense he was— in his shoulders, mostly. "i'm home." you tried to laugh, but nothing came out.

the last time you spoke to him was a disagreement. you left without saying a word.. and yet, he didn't seem angry. at least, not as angry as you expected him to be.

your father only stood in front of you in silence after hearing your response. he nodded, and you heard him take in a shaky breath. "i am glad." he told you, his large hands taking hold of your shoulders. you pressed your lips into a smile, enjoying the feeling of his comforting touch.

he had every right to be upset with you, and he was. you could tell by the look he held in his eyes, but he didn't show it, verbally nor physically. all he did was look down at you, looking as though he was trying to read your mind.

"i'm sorry." you said after a moment of sitting in the comfortable silence he had made. "i know." he replied, and you couldn't help but to feel like a child again— being reprimanded for making a mistake. this was more than a mistake. this was life or death.

"why did you go?" his voice cut you out of your thoughts, and you turned your gaze to him once more. "to see what odin was up to. to feel.. useful."

"you are useful." he said without missing a beat. the confidence he had in you was always something that made your chest tight and your eyes water. "i wanted.. i had to go. i know you're upset with my decision, but it was mine to make."

your father's mouth opened for a split second, then closed once more. "okay." he spoke, and you furrowed your eyebrows. "okay?" you asked, confusion evident in your tone. "it was your decision. i did not.. do not.. agree. i never will. but it was yours." he explained, and you closed your eyes, taking in his words.

he had changed so much over the years. you wondered why. was it your mother's death? the fact that his children were doing nothing but getting older? you remembered how he would be gone for days, weeks at a time in your youth. when he was around, he wasn't really there. his body was.. his mind wasn't.

now— all of him remained at your side. his emotions, thoughts, feelings.. everything was there. he didn't leave. not anymore.

"thank you." you mustered up a response, albeit a mediocre one. he said nothing in acknowledgment to your words. he didn't need to. "rest." he spoke in a whisper, gesturing to the room you had shared with atreus with a nod of his head, and you didn't have the energy to say anything else.

you turned on your heel, and with one last look at your father over your shoulder, you walked into your room. it smelled of fruits— and the smell was a welcoming one. your room in asgard could never compare.. even if this one was a pantry. it was home.

you unsheathed your sword and stared down at it for a moment, thoughts of your time behind asgard's walls flooding your mind. you took off your baldric, resting it on top of a nearby barrel, sitting your weapon down with it.

a sigh escaped your lips as you laid down on the bed. you had plenty to think about, and it was times like this where you wished you could turn off your mind.

you closed your eyes. your head hit the pillow, and you slept.

"watch your step, dear."

your eyes opened, and you found yourself surrounded by forest. the sound of running water rushed into your ears, and your gaze eventually settled on a woman— stood in front of you with a gentle smile.

your mother..

she extended a hand to you, and you took it with no hesitation. this was a memory, and yet you remained older. you were no longer a child. you were close to her height in your dream-like memory. you wished she could see you now.

she squeezed your hand, helping you up the ledge that led up the river. "today.. we fish." your mother stated, letting you walk beside her. she walked closest to the river, as all mothers do to protect their children from falling in. "why?" you asked, and she did nothing but laugh.

"you have to learn to survive." she told you, shrugging her shoulders with a smile. she was always smiling.. always positive. you returned her grin with one of her own, "okay, mama." you whispered through laughter.

you walked in silence for a few minutes, letting the sound of chirping birds and rushing water take over your thoughts, though your eyes never drifted from your mother's form next to you. she never took her hand out of yours, and she rubbed her thumb across the back of it.

"we're here." she said, leading you down and onto the shore of the river. it was relatively far away from your home, and you couldn't help but to wonder what atreus was doing. sleeping.. most likely. children tend to do that.

the dirt underneath your feet felt uncomfortable, the texture of it unwelcome against your skin. your face crinkled in disgust. you heard your mother's laughter. the sound of it was bliss. this moment.. it was, too.

she held onto your spear, and you swallowed looking at it. it looked.. complicated. your mother noticed your worried expression, and rested her hand on your shoulder, her touch reassuring. "i'll teach you everything. don't look so dour." she chuckled, making sure the spear was in working order for you. you could only watch as she did so— amazed by her skills.

"i'll teach you how to make your own." your mother told you. "this one is old. you'll need one." she said, turning her attention away from the spear and onto you. her gaze was gentle, as soft as her touch was. she stepped into the river, shivering at the cold temperature of the water before gesturing for you to join her.

you pursed your lips, and after a deep breath, you stepped in after her. you gasped at the feeling of it on your legs, and your mother laughed at the expression on your face. "you'll get used to it, someday." she told you through her chuckles.

she handed you your own spear, holding her own with her other hand. "you wonder why we're far from home?" she asked, and you nodded. "we needed a good spot.. downstream. the fish will come from this way," she pointed with her hand, "we'll be waiting." she shrugged, looking down at her feet.

you nodded. "in the meantime.." your mother muttered, taking a step towards you. "you don't need to hold it that tight." she rested her free hand on yours, releasing the tension you held in them. "adjust your positioning. you want the strength to make it quick. this way," she moved your hands to the correct spots on the spear, and hummed as she pulled away from you. "good!" she said, cheering for you though you had done nothing to deserve it.

you only rolled your eyes, and she nudged you with her elbow. "oh, here." she noticed a few fish coming downstream, and with one swift movement, she had one on the end of her spear. your mouth fell open. how did she do that? she laughed, seeing the look on your face.

"how did you do that?" you asked, and she turned her head to look at you. "many, many years of practice, my dear. you'll get there."

and you did.

memories flooded your mind, and with each one that passed you got older. you saw more fishing, heard her voice reading to you.. it was bittersweet to see her again. you closed your eyes, letting the sound of her words echo through your mind.

it fell silent, and you blinked a few times, opening your eyes.

you were in your home, and your mother laid in the bed you sat on. this was a few weeks before she died, and she began getting weaker. she was the strongest woman you ever knew— that you ever will know— but seeing her in that way.. it hurt.

"what's on your mind?"you heard her ask, and you pursed your lips. "just thinking, mama." you whispered to her, tucking her hair behind her ear with a smile. "your thoughts are loud." she muttered, leaning into your hand. "i'm sorry."

"don't be." she replied quickly, and you nodded. "what is it.. really?"

"what do i do?"

she raised an eyebrow at your question, but bit at the inside of her cheek. she knew what you meant. what would you do after she was gone?

"you will continue without me. you'll continue being that same strong, intelligent and capable child i raised. that's what you'll do." your mother said to you, resting her hand on top of yours that had sat on the bed next to her. "i don't want to do this without you." you told her, and she nodded.

"i know. but you can.. and you will." she looked into your eyes, and even her gaze looked weaker than before. "it will be hard.. for you, your brother," she paused, her eyes moving towards the door, "your father." she looked at it for a few moments, before returning her attention to you.

"you will grow. you'll make hard decisions.. and you'll have to do them without me," she paused, letting herself smile, "and without your father's opinion."

"you are your own person. you know what to do. what's best for you." she shrugged her shoulders with pursed lips, and you sighed. you said nothing in response to her words, and she lifted her hand to your cheek.

she caressed your skin with her thumb, and smiled up at you. "i love you." she whispered. "i love you too." you replied.

you felt her touch fade from your face, and you subconsciously lifted your hand to where her's was moments before. you were met with nothing, and you shot out of bed. your chest felt tight and your eyes welled with tears at the memory of her. this was the first time you had dreamt of her in a long time.. and her words stuck with you even more now than they did before.

you blinked away your tears, rubbing them away with the palms of your hands. your eyes fell on the sword that sat on the table at the end of your bed, and as you calmed your breathing down, you let yourself think of asgard.

she was telling you something. she wasn't with you physically, but she remained in your heart and soul. you let out a sigh, rubbing your forehead with your thumb and pointer finger.

you would go back to asgard. that was your decision— without her and without your father's input. you thought that was what was best.. so you would do it.

you thought of odin.. of heimdall.

you would avoid him to the best of your ability. you had to. the less time.. the better, you reminded yourself.

you let yourself lie back down, turning your head to look at the opposite side of the room. atreus was asleep in his own bed, and you smiled at the sight of him. he slept so soundly.. his mind at peace. he had a faint grin on his lips. he looked.. happy.

you would protect him, his happiness.

you would protect your father.

you had to.

you knew what you had to do. and you would do it.

you closed your eyes— and welcomed the thoughts of asgard into your mind with open arms.

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