Chapter 1: Anger
Chapter Text
Atreus had lost consciousness. The last thing he remembered was Modi - electrocuting father and insulting his late mother. Anger burned through his entire body like scorching flames before darkness took him. He could already hear his father's stern voice - You are too brash and reckless, boy.
He opened his pale eyes, blinking as he adjusted to the dim light. His wrists were bound, and golden furniture and silk were all around him. The rope rubbed harshly against his skin as he tried to free himself - stilling when he heard an unsettling chuckle resonate within the room.
"Ah you're awake, little brother."
Atreus immediately scowled up at the man who approached him on the bed, putting on a brave face. But in truth, fear tore through his chest like rabid wolf claws. "Where's father?!" he demanded angrily.
Modi laughed, "It's nice to know you haven't lost your spunk, little one." His voice was so patronizing and creepy – it made the hairs on the back of Atreus' neck stand on end.
"I told you I'd kill your father, and I did."
Terror seeped through Atreus' bones. He didn't believe it. "No- you're lying!" he screamed, struggling against his restraints. His father couldn't be dead. He couldn't be. Atreus had just lost his mother - he couldn't bear the thought of losing his father too. Kratos was all he had left.
"He promised! He wouldn't leave me!" he shouted, feeling tears prick the corner of his eyes.
"Oh my dear boy, I would never lie about such a thing. Your father's rotting in Hel alongside your whore of a mother."
"No!" Atreus shouted, refusing to believe him.
The smile on Modi's face grew as he watched the young boy struggle. "You'll become what you took from me."
The way Modi's eyes roamed over his body filled Atreus with unease. He couldn't stifle the whimper that left his mouth at the sudden sight of his mother's blade. His captor had taken it from him, along with his bow and arrows.
"We'll be brothers- you and me," Mondi poked Atreus' chest, "I'll teach you to be the man your father couldn't."
"Shut up!" Atreus roared, his head and heart pounding.
Modi set aside his shield and weapon, making the bed dip as he straddled Atreus. The man pinned him down, almost crushing him under his weight. Modi was hard muscle.
He bent down and cut Atreus' wrists free, forcing him to hold out his hand. Atreus winced as the blade cut across his palm, feeling the blood trickle down his wrist.
Modi hummed quietly, sounding pleased with himself. He did the same to his own hand before pressing their wounds together, lacing his fingers with Atreus'.
"Now we're blood brothers," he whispered.
Disgust washed over the young boy. He mustered up the strength to break free. "No!" he screamed, "I'll never be your brother! I'll kill you like my father killed Magni!"
Atreus pounced on Modi without a second thought, pommelling the man's face with his tiny fists. He struggled to take the knife back. Modi was too strong. His captor let it happen though, laughing at his feeble attempts. It only succeeded in infuriating Atreus more.
He wanted to look Modi in the eyes as he slit his throat. Atreus was shaking he was so angry, his adrenaline skyrocketing. Modi let him land a few hits, moaning in a mix of pain and pleasure.
"Weak little half-breed," he chuckled darkly, "I'll show you what a real god can do."
The air was knocked out of Atreus' lungs with a swift hit to the stomach. He wheezed and coughed, struggling to breathe. He picked a fight he couldn't win - not without his father.
"L-Let me go!" Atreus told himself he wasn't pleading. He wanted his father to magically appear and save him from this sick creep.
"Oh no," Modi denied softly, "I can't possibly do that, but I'll do something even better."
Modi covered Atreus' body with his own in a blink of an eye, threatening to crush him all over again.
"What are you doing?!" Atreus spat, trying to muster up enough strength to push him off. Modi was too heavy though, and Atreus tired easily. What kind of warrior was he if he couldn't even defend himself?
"You want to be a man, don't you?" Modi questioned, running his large hand over the soft fur on Atreus' vest. He slid his hand under the boy's tunic to feel his warm skin, revelling in it.
Atreus froze in fear. He was young, yes - but not stupid. His heart dropped, shaking his head in disbelief. "I'll kill you…" his voice shook despite trying to sound firm. So scared his words were barely audible.
Modi laughed in the boy's face, "Even the god's indulge in carnal pleasure, little one."
Atreus squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to block everything out. "Don't touch me- don't!" he punched at Modi blindly, but it didn't deter him in the slightest. It only seemed to heighten his excitement as he tore at Atreus' clothes, leaving him naked and vulnerable.
"I'm gonna give it to you the way your mother liked it… Feel free to take notes," Modi purred in his ear, brushing his lips against the boy's cheek. Atreus tried to get away from Modi's touch.
"Shut up!" His father would never want to look at him again if he knew - he'd disown him.
Modi claimed Atreus' lips, shoving his tongue into the boy's mouth. Atreus choked, biting down until he could taste blood. He heard a moan come from the man above him. Modi's big hands moved down his thighs, lifting one of his legs.
Atreus immediately tensed when he felt a finger at his entrance. "No!" he begged, feeling fresh tears sting his eyes. "Please!"
His pride was forgotten. Atreus wasn't a man nor a god. He was a frightened child who desperately wanted his father. "Father!" he screamed, voice breaking as Modi began preparing him none too gently.
Atreus hid his face behind his tattooed hand. Did he really want his father to see him in such a way? Atreus' heart and body throbbed in pain, "Father!" he repeated, crying as another finger was added.
"You can cry for daddy all you want- but he ain't gonna heed your call," Modi groaned at Atreus' tight heat. "Take it like a man!" he snarled, his beard scratching against Atreus' hand.
Atreus fought tooth and nail until he was physically incapable of doing so. Modi's fingers never ceased, making the boy gasp in surprise when he hit something deep inside him. He was sick to his stomach, thrashing under him with newfound energy. "Stop! Get off me!"
Modi ignored his pleas. "Think I'll fit?" Atreus refused to open his eyes. He didn't want to see it, but he could feel the heavy cock between Modi's legs and it made him nauseous.
The man positioned his body as he pleased, and the world seemed to still when he pushed into him. Atreus willed himself to pass out, the pain so excruciating he prayed for death.
"C'mon- you can take it," Modi encouraged, his eyes rolling back as his thick cock disappeared inside the boy. He growled into his neck, letting Atreus adjust to his size. He moved at a steady pace to make it easier, looking down at him with a feral grin across his face.
"You were made for this- I am certain." Atreus could hear the pleasure in Modi's voice. His hands wandered over his body possessively. "Look at me," he ordered, "Or I'll fuck you next to your daddy's corpse and your mommy's ashes."
Atreus whimpered, removing his hand. His face was wet with tears and blood from the cut. The man locked eyes with him, taking special pleasure from it.
"Ugly little brat," he panted against the boy's face, picking up speed. In actuality Modi thought Atreus was incredibly beautiful. His snowy white skin and the light freckles scattered across his face. The teardrops caught in his eyelashes. The blood. The despair in his baby blue eyes. Modi was going to enjoy keeping him.
Atreus was deathly quiet as tears continued rolling down his face. It felt like an eternity. Modi became more vocal as time passed, grunting like an animal above him. When he finished inside Atreus he had never felt so hollow. By the end he had no more tears to shed, staring blankly up at the ceiling.
Modi redressed and left him there, locked away - used and broken.
It wasn't the last time Modi laid his hands on him. It happened, again and again. Atreus dishonoured his mother.. and his father, he didn't think he'd ever see his face again. He truly began to believe he was dead.
He lost track of time, hours turned into days and days turned into weeks. The only thing he could be certain of was pain, humiliation and his eventual death. Atreus had lost all hope.
He took small comfort in the books Modi brought him. He'd learned quickly to bite his tongue and do as he was told. Modi was gentler on him when he complied. He read to pass the time and pretend he was somewhere else.
He heard the door unlock and braced himself for the worst. Modi was unhinged and quick to temper. He was horrifyingly creative when it came to punishing him. Atreus figured his need for control stemmed from living in Magni's shadow. He was seen as a joke in Asgard – if Modi's drunk ramblings were anything to go by.
It wasn't a monster that opened the door though. Atreus had to do a double take to make sure his eyes weren't playing tricks.
"Father?" he whispered, tears welling in his eyes.
"Atreus!" Kratos rushed over to him.
The boy's tears broke free, jumping off the bed to meet his father half way and hug him tightly. "Father! Please! I want to go home!" he begged, gripping Kratos' clothes in an attempt to stop them from shaking.
"I will, boy- are you hurt?" he asked, his voice deep and comforting.
Atreus shook his head quickly, not wanting to stall.
He asked his father to take him home again once they reached Midgard. Kratos spoke of his mother's ashes, but Atreus persisted, begging to go home so he could recuperate. His father was unaware of what had happened, and Atreus swore to himself he'd take it to his grave.
He tried to keep a stiff upper lip for his father's sake. But he couldn't stop the tears that escaped as soon as he opened the door to their lodge. He turned to Kratos, angrily wiping them away and shoving him. His father didn't move an inch.
Atreus threw a punch at him next, but Kratos blocked it easily. "What took you so long!" he screamed. "You left me- again! You promised you wouldn't leave me! But you keep doing it! Again and again!" Atreus was on the verge of hyperventilating, screaming at the top of his lungs.
"Calm down, boy!" Kratos gripped Atreus' shoulders firmly, making eye contact. "I came as quickly as I could," he said, his tone gentler.
Mimir thought it was the perfect time to interject, telling him time between realms were distorted. What took them a few minutes was considerable longer for Atreus. The boy hiccupped, his eyes red and puffy from the onslaught of unwanted tears.
The head tried to comfort him. "You're safe now, my boy. Relax and get some rest."
"Yes," his father said, "Sleep, Atreus."
Something dangerous twisted inside the Spartan. The sight of his son so distraught was unsettling. Yes, he'd seen Atreus upset before, but this time it felt different.
Atreus wasn't hungry or tired. He skipped dinner, tossing and turning on his bed. He took comfort in the fact his father and Mimir were only an arm length away.
Modi wrapped his fingers around Atreus' member, stroking him quickly.
"S-Stop!" Atreus was embarrassed and sickened by his body's reaction. He'd experienced random erections previously, but his mother told him it was nothing to be ashamed of. It was normal for a boy his age. This didn't feel normal though.
The man behind him trapped his wrists in one hand as he violated him with the other. Atreus couldn't do anything, feeling something inside his stomach gradually build.
"Please!" He didn't know why he kept begging - Modi never stopped.
"Cum for your big brother, little lamb."
Atreus awoke with a start, shoving the large hand off his shoulder.
"Don't touch me!"
Kratos furrowed his brow, "Atreus- calm yourself!" The boy wheezed, his heart threatening to burst out of his chest. He could still feel Modi's warm breath on his face.
"I-I'm fine," he forced out, wiping his cheek.
"You are not," Kratos stated.
Atreus whimpered, rolling onto his side so his back was to his father. "It was just a dream," he told himself, and his father too.
Kratos grunted softly in response, lying back down on his bed. He didn't know how to approach the situation. His son obviously suffered, but to what extent he did not know. The emotional stress struck the Spartan with indescribable guilt.
It was quiet a part from the gust of wind outside.
Atreus blinked away his tears. He hated crying, especially in front of father. But all he seemed to do was cry since his capture. He peeked over his shoulder. "…Father?" His voice was so small and timid.
"What?" came the gruff voice in the darkness.
The soft rustle of blankets were heard as Atreus left his bed, getting into his father's one hesitantly. Mimir was on the table where Atreus had made him a bed.
"….Boy?" His father questioned, shifting to make room for his son without thinking.
"I'm cold," Atreus whispered, taking his father's hefty arm and wrapping it around himself. His back flush against his father's chest. Kratos could feel him shiver, tightening his arm protectively.
Atreus fell asleep in his father's arms, keeping Modi out of his dreams.
Chapter 2: Grief
Notes:
Thank you so much for all the positive feedback and kudos!
A special thanks to Java1 for looking over my work and inspiring me! :)
Chapter Text
It had almost been a week and Atreus was still not himself. His mood was up and down, angry one minute and upset the next. Kratos agreed to put their journey on hold, concerned the stress would bring on his son’s sickness. Atreus had hardly spoken a word since their return, and Kratos didn’t press him.
The boy did not feel well. He wanted nothing more than to forget Modi’s touch and fulfill his mother’s last wish. He sat outside on the hard ground, holding her ashes.
“I miss you…” he whispered, tears dropping onto the soft pouch.
He wanted to feel her loving arms around him once more. He wanted comfort only his mother could give. His father was trying, but showing affection wasn’t his strength. Atreus knew this. It cut him deeply to think she might have witnessed his abuse in spirit.
His bottom lip quivered, squeezing his eyes shut. “And I’m sorry…”
“Boy,”
Atreus jumped at the sudden deep voice, wiping his face and looking over his shoulder.
“Food,” Kratos put simply, waiting for his son to enter before he closed the door behind him.
Atreus carefully placed his mother’s ashes on a small stand adorned with colourful flowers and Mentha from her herb garden. She loved the smell so it reminded him of her. He took it upon himself to look after the garden when she passed. His father wasn’t interested.
“How’re you faring, little brother?” Mimir asked softly.
Atreus visibly tensed at the name, giving the head a small shrug.
“Your father can cook a hearty meal- colour me surprised.”
Mimir received a dismissive grunt from Kratos. The head wasn’t having much luck lightening the mood as of late. The atmosphere was heavy and daresay miserable.
They sat at the wooden table in silence. Atreus swirled his spoon in his bowl of stew, having very little appetite. Kratos looked off to the side where his son’s wooden figures laid on the floor untouched.
The fact Atreus was spending more time with Faye’s ashes didn’t sit well with him. He knew his son was talking to her. It wasn’t healthy nor normal in his eyes.
“You play more with your food than you do your toys.”
Atreus paused, not looking up from his bowl. “…I’m not hungry,” he mumbled, sighing softly as he slumped back in his chair.
Kratos knitted his brow in annoyance. “Eat, boy,” he ordered, his voice leaving no room for discussion. “Or do you wish to fall ill again?” Atreus was growing thinner by the day - the boy didn’t have much weight on him to begin with.
“But I’m not hungry,” Atreus repeated, picking his spoon back up nevertheless. He knew better than to argue.
The silence continued as Kratos finished his meal, the clinking of cutlery the only noise between them. Atreus couldn’t bring himself to eat much though, he couldn’t stomach it.
Kratos put his spoon down, looking at his son. “This has gone on long enough,” he told him. “What troubles you, Atreus? You have not been yourself since Asgard.”
Atreus rubbed his tired eyes, feeling an invisible weight on his chest. He was paranoid. His felt his heartbeat pick up a notch, swallowing nervously. “Nothing,” he murmured, never wanting his father to know. “I just…” Atreus looked down at his hands, “I miss her.”
It was the truth, but not the truth Kratos sought. The father knew it was more than that, but again he didn’t press the issue. He couldn’t express what Atreus needed. His son was physically unharmed, aside from the small lesion on his hand. Open wounds and broken bones Kratos could mend, emotionally pain was something else entirely.
“Can I go back outside now?” he asked, feeling closed in.
Kratos looked at him for a long moment before nodding his head stiffly. Atreus picked up the two toys off the floor to give his father the illusion he was going out to play. He left the house, feeling his father’s eyes on him.
He went around the side where he was sitting previously. He glanced back, wanting to make sure his father wasn’t watching him before he went for a walk. He didn’t have his bow and arrows, but his mother’s dagger was with him always.
He hadn’t asked his father what became of Modi. He couldn’t speak his name. He said nothing and trusted his father killed him. He could breathe again once he was out in the open. Atreus sniffled, taking the long way around to the nearby stream. He knew draugr’s were few and far between.
He felt as if he could release his thoughts out into the open – so they’d carry downstream and wash away. Atreus liked the thought of that, jumping from one rock to another before he sat down on the water’s edge.
He looked at his wooden toys, frowning at the yellow and blue carvings in each hand. He had no desire to play with them anymore. He didn’t see things the same way. If Atreus was being honest, he couldn’t even feel anything other than anger and sadness – which he already had in abundance after the death of his mother.
Atreus felt dead inside.
He abruptly stood up and hurled the two figures into the water, watching them resurface and float away. He sat back down after a moment, collecting himself. He took out his mother’s dagger and began drawing patterns in the dirt, humming the lullaby she used to sing to him.
He stopped when he caught his reflection in the blade.
”Ugly little brat.”
He leaned forward to get a better look at himself in the water’s surface, turning his head to the side to see his scars.
Every muscle in Atreus’ body ached as he was picked up off the bed and carried in a pair of large arms. He cracked open his eyes at the sound of gentle running water, greeted with the sight of a lavish golden tub. He might have found it amazing at any other place, but knowing it was his captor's filled him with a sense of apprehension.
Atreus watched Modi reach down to check the temper before he lowered them into the water. Realizing his capture was unclothed, Atreus stiffened, tensing his sticky thighs as his feet submerged under the soothing warm water.
He whimpered softly, biting his lip to stifle the sound as the water sloshed around him, making contact with his torn entrance. His captor hushed him quietly, positioning Atreus so he was sitting between his legs with his back to his chest.
Atreus’ muscles gradually began to relax despite the tension. He was beyond exhausted.
“This will sting- but only for a moment, little one.”
Modi’s soapy hand rubbed across Atreus’ back gently, the other holding his waist. The boy arched forward, struggling to get away from the touch. His muscles tightened again and he shuddered as his captor’s hand drifted further down his spine.
Feeling his captor's finger slide inside him, Atreus jolted, hissing through his clenched teeth. “…No!” He rasped, his voice leaving him. Unable to move he gave up his struggle, panting as he looked down at his tear stained face in the rippling water.
The man hushed him quietly once more. “I won’t hurt you again, little brother, you have my word.”
Modi did keep hurting Atreus though. The boy couldn’t understand why he was so gentle at times. It was confusing. Hard to decipher. It didn’t make any sense to Atreus - as if Modi was torn between being two people. One cold and sadistic, and the other remorseful. He soon came to realize what a gifted manipulator the god was however, and Atreus stomach churned, refusing to remember what came after those tender words.
It didn’t make much difference in the end. Atreus would never forgive the god for what he'd done to him, no matter how remorseful he was.
His closed his eyes for a brief moment, opening them to look at the faded cut on his tattooed hand. It was almost gone, but the memory was still agonizingly fresh.
”Now we're blood brothers.”
It repulsed him to think Modi’s blood ran in his veins. His tightened his grip on the dagger, slashing across his palm without thinking. He kept cutting in different directions, working himself into a frenzy. He just didn’t want to look at it anymore.
In a strange way Atreus’ heart began beating again. He dropped the dagger, his erratic breath visible in the winter air. He hadn’t realize what he’d done until he was cupping a pool of his own blood.
He lunged towards the water in a panic, washing the blood away. He winced at the sting, but in a way – it felt good. He felt alive.
Atreus inhaled deeply. He looked up at the vibrant colours streaking across the sky as the sun began to set. He exhaled slowly, taking a moment to clean his blade before he started walking back home.
When he reached the house Kratos was already waiting for him outside. His arms crossed over his broad chest, looking none too pleased. Atreus’ shoulders slumped as he walked towards him, preparing himself for his father’s scorn.
Kratos narrowed his eyes. “You know better than to go into the woods alone, boy.”
Atreus kept his eyes on the ground. “I know… I’m-“ he didn’t finish his sentence, shaking his head. He knew his father didn’t want an apology. “I just wanted to go for a walk,” he mumbled.
Kratos grunted, stepping aside to let his son into the house.
Atreus walked inside, turning on his heel to face his father. “I’m ready,” he said quietly. “To take mother’s ashes to Jötunheim.”
His father’s expression didn’t change. He always had a permanent scowl on his face. “So be it,” he said, “We leave at dawn.”
Atreus nodded, going to his dresser to pick up the book his mother used to read to him - about the wolves Sköll and Hati. He sat cross legged on his bed, reading it quietly.
“Your hand, boy,”
Atreus’ heart plummeted, quickly turning to see his father’s glowering face.
“Do you take me for a fool?” he growled, stepping closer.
“N-No, father,” Atreus stuttered, “Why?” he asked.
Kratos’ hand shot out and gripped his son’s wrist, in no mood for games. “My patience is wearing thin, boy.”
Atreus balled his hand into a fist tightly, trying to hide the self-inflicted wounds.
Kratos’ nostrils flared, “Show. Me. Boy.”
Atreus felt shame wash over him for the upmost time. He slowly opened his hand, allowing his father to see the damage.
His father knelt down so they were at eye level, holding Atreus’ gaze. “Why do you harm yourself?” his voice was rough, but Atreus could hear the veil of concern.
The boy yanked his hand back, hugging his book to his chest. Atreus felt the tears well in his eyes. He shook his head. His mouth refused to form words as his shoulders began to shake gently.
"Atreus...?" Kratos questioned, hesitant and quiet. He reached out, holding the side of his son’s face in one hand. His was so small.
Atreus dropped the book into his lap, wrapping his fingers around Kratos’ thick wrist. He kept shaking his head, “I’m fine,” he told him gently, forcing himself to say the words clearly – with conviction.
Chapter 3: Denial
Notes:
Thank you so much everyone! ♥ I really appreciate all your kind words and kudos. It really inspires me to keep writing (Hopefully I'm getting better! Lol). Big thank you to Java1 for being my beta reader! I hope you like it :)
Chapter Text
Atreus awoke before the sun. He’d slept in his own bed for the first time since he arrived home, resisting the urge to sneak into his father’s arms. He laid out his black tunic and fur vest, stopping when he noticed material peeking out from under his bed, a shimmer of gold catching his eye.
It was the tunic he was wearing when his father found him. Atreus knelt down to get a closer look. The garment was made of silk, a soft blue wrap around with snakes sewn and intertwined on the collar. Each long sleeve was dripped in gold. He held it in his hands, running his thumb over the material.
It was a piece of finery that was for sure, but it held nothing but horrid memories of what Modi had done after the bath, and what had happened when he tried to escape.
The boy ran into the woods, having no idea what direction to go in. But he didn’t stop, not even as the jagged stones cut the soles of his feet and his legs began to shake. He could hear his heartbeat and blood swooshing in his ears.
He slid across the dirt, horror stricken when he almost collided into an ogre. The beast was feasting on a deer. The crunch of bones and flesh repulsively loud.
Atreus fell backwards, crying out as pain shot up his backside. The sound got the ogre’s attention, and the boy feared for his life all over again.
Frightened, he squeezed his eyes shut, soundlessly begging for a quick and painless death. He knew from seeing it first-hand that ogre’s liked playing with their food. At the very least, Atreus was consoled by the thought he’d be reunited with his parents.
He waited for sour breath and sharp teeth to rip into him. But it never came. Instead, he felt the hair on his head beginning to stand on end, as if in an open field during an electrical storm. Then a deafening bang.
The boy’s eyes flew open, his ears ringing as Modi came crashing down onto the beast. He scooted backwards as lightning rained down all around him. Modi attacked it with his mace, swift and brutal with his blows. Within moments the beast collapsed with a loud thud and gargled groan, lying dead at his feet.
He stared up at the god wide-eyed. Modi looked at the boy, his expression hard and unforgiving.
“Stupid little shit! You’ll be punished for your insolence!”
That night Atreus wished he’d been eaten alive. Gripping the tunic tightly in his shaking hands Atreus attempted to rip it, taking out his knife when he couldn’t. “I hate you,” he snarled quietly, slashing at the silk until the garment was barely recognizable.
“I hate you,” he croaked again, flinging the ruined article of clothing aside as he took a deep breath to calm himself and finish dressing.
Unknowingly, he flung the garment over Mimir’s head. “Oh, little brother?” his muffled voice called.
Atreus’ muscles tensed, glaring back at the head who was facing the wall. “Don’t call me that!” he snapped, softening a moment later. He walked over to the head and removed the torn fabric. "I'm sorry, Mimir," he said quietly, letting the torn cloth fall to the wooden floor.
“Quite alright, lad,” Mimir assured as he turned the head back around so they were facing each other now that he was dressed. “I take it blue isn’t your favourite color then?” he joked mildly.
Blue was his favourite colour. It was the colour of his mother’s eyes and one of the many features she’d passed down to him. Atreus looked away, leaving the question unanswered.
“Listen, my boy,” Mimir started, gentle. “I know first hand how sadistic and cruel the fruit of Thor’s loins can be. Baldur- and his pig headed nephews tortured me for over a century after all.”
Atreus could practically see the gears turning in Mimir’s head, and it made him nervous.
“I know what they’re capable of, lad,” his voice was hushed and sympathetic, “Particularly the youngest…”
His father was outside, preparing for their journey out of earshot.
“Modi is not brave nor fit to wield Mjönir. He’s a wretched, pathetic little man,” his voice rose, taking on his cheerful sarcastic tone, “With the biggest daddy issue’s the likes of the nine realms have ever seen, if I do say so myself.”
Atreus remained quiet, but listened to his friend. He knew Modi didn’t have the best relationship with his father. Given that his captor would cradle him in his arms whilst drunk, and weep as he spoke of Thor, the obsession overshadowing Magni’s own death.
“Come now, my boy. You can confide in me… What happened?”
Atreus did not dare say a word.
“Tis better to get if off your chest than have it fester like an open wound.” Mimir stated, pushing the boy a little further, “Did he hurt you?”
He had, that much was certain, but the head wanted the boy to vocalize it. The silence was almost deafening as Mimir waited for the boy to say something.
Atreus fought the urge to run before tears began rolling down his face. He hated it. “He-” The boy tried, suddenly unable to form a sentence. “I don't-”
“It's okay, lad, take your time.”
Atreus inhaled, breathing out shakily. “No.” He tried again, “He...” It was too difficult to voice. If he spoke it out loud, then it became true. Atreus didn't want it to be. He did not want anyone to know.
It clicked for Mimir though, mindful of his choice of words. “He… took advantage of you?” The boy had not been limping, but perhaps Modi used some kind of magic to heal his injuries.
Feeling as if a powerful force had knock him back at the words, Atreus couldn't help bursting into tears. The shame and humiliation of the painful memories was far worse than he could have imagined, it felt as though it was suffocating him.
Mimir yearned for his arms in that telling moment, wanting nothing more than to comfort the poor boy.
“I think it best your fath-”
“No!” Atreus choked out before Mimir could finish, his breath quickening. “You know nothing!” he shouted, his voice shaking with desperation. “Nothing!” He couldn't bear to the thought of losing what little respect his father had for him.
Mimir’s eye softened, staying quiet as Atreus pulled himself together before Kratos returned. They continued the long and treacherous road to Jötunheim, the boy keeping himself focused, fearing his father would accuse him of being elsewhere and threaten to take him home again.
The head didn’t regale them with stories of Tyr and other gods like he usually would, making Atreus anxious. Mimir needed time to contemplate. How could he tell the Ghost of Sparta what had happened to his son without sending him into a blind rage?
He thought long and hard until nightfall.
They took refuge in a cavern, allowing the boy to rest for a while. Kratos started a fire to counteract the cold. He could tell his son had pushed himself to his limits. So it was hardly surprising when Atreus fell asleep, using his father’s muscular thigh as a pillow.
The sound of the crackling fire and occasional bird could be heard. Kratos was looking into the flames, as if in an angry trance. He was in his own head as much as the boy.
Mirmir knew he was treading on dangerous grounds.
“Have you heard of the giantess Rindr?” he asked, getting no reply from Kratos.
He took it as a sign to continue, licking his tattooed lip. “Odin took many forms to deceive Rindr, which resulted in her bearing one of his four children.”
Mimir looked towards the flames, “Their son, Váli, was conceived by… Force.”
“Why tell me this, head?”
“It’s not an uncommon practice in the family,”
Atreus stirred, mumbling something deep in his sleep. His little brow knitted.
“Their cruelty knows no bounds, brother.” The head told him quietly.
The seed was planted. Mimir saw it in Kratos’ eyes as he looked down at his son, touching his forehead to see if he had a temperature.
Chapter 4: Rage
Notes:
Thank you everyone! Your comments and kudos are the best ♥
Big thank you to Java1 and AkatsukiOfNight
Chapter Text
“What are we doing?” Atreus asked as he slung his bow over his shoulder.
“I am teaching you to fight,”
“Fight?" Atreus questioned, confused. "But I already know how to fight,”
“No- you do not,” his father said, “Not without your bow and arrow.”
The boy faltered, wondering why his father chose a time like this. “But what about-“
“Atreus,” His father interrupted, lifting up his hand to silence him.
“Hit me.”
“Again with this?” Atreus pouted, “Why now?”
“Because I am your father and you do as I say, boy,”
Atreus threw a half-hearted punch, which Kratos did not bother blocking.
“Hit me as hard as you can,” he ordered.
“But I’m not as strong as you!”
“You need not be strong to defend yourself in unarmed combat.”
The boy stared at his father.
“The temple,” Kratos told him, tapping the side of his son’s head, “The bones of the skull are weak here.”
Atreus nodded a little, listening intently.
“The eyes, nose, throat-“ Kratos jabbed the front of Atreus’ neck gently, “A powerful blow to the front can cause death by crushing the windpipe.”
The boy frowned, “…Okay, but I’m not strong enough to do that,” he mumbled, his self-consciousness taking over.
His father shook his head, “Even to induce shock and severe pain will give you the upper hand. Do not be afraid to hit a man where he is most vulnerable.”
“….The heart?”
Atreus heard Mimir snort out a laugh from behind Kratos, “Oh my dear, sweet boy.”
His father didn’t find his son’s innocence so amusing, pinching the bridge of his nose.
The boy felt his cheeks warm when he realized what he'd meant. “Oh… I get it,” Atreus mumbled, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.
They sparred for some time, his father’s anger flaring whenever Atreus made a mistake, lost his footing or did not hit hard enough. Kratos would not let him move on until he performed to his standards.
Atreus was panting by the end of it, tired.
“Better,” his father grumbled. “We will practice again at nightfall,”
The boy did not know what to think of his father’s sudden interest in his abilities - or lack of.
They continued through the dark carven to reach the other side of the mountain. There were numerous obstacles in their way. Traps involving deadly spikes being one. It frightened Atreus just looking at them, his stomach churned.
Kratos looked around, unwilling to risk his son's life.
“To the left, brother- Atreus can fit through there,” Mimir spotted an opening.
His father nodded in agreement, “I will meet you on the other side,” he told his son.
Atreus was hesitant. He didn’t want to be separated from his father. Going to the lake near their house was one thing, but being in a dark dingy cave alone was another.
“You’ll be okay?” Atreus asked quietly.
“I will be fine, boy.”
The boy mentally prepared himself as he got on all fours to crawl through the small hole. He coached himself under his breath, “You’re okay... You’re okay.” The dark tight space didn’t stop his heart from hammering in his chest though, feeling something slither past his hand.
Atreus yelped, hearing his father’s voice. “Boy?!”
“I-I’m fine,” Atreus called back, his face heating up in embarrassment. He felt better once he saw the light on the other side.
He crawled out, getting to his feet and dusting himself off. He began walking towards the trap to see if he could spot his father. That was before a pair of thick arms encompassed him.
“Thought I could hear a rat in the walls,”
Atreus' blood ran cold at the voice. His heart sank to the pit of his stomach.
“What? No kiss hello?” Modi whispered hotly against Atreus ear.
The boy shook, unable to find his voice or move. His body and mind completely shut down.
Modi chuckled behind him. “Time to go home, little one,"
It was only when he picked Atreus up that his body came back to life, kicking and screaming. Dread filled every part of the boy. The thought of going back to the source of his nightmares. To endure the pain that ate away at his very soul.
He tried to elbow Modi in the ribs, scratch his arm, but the man captured his wrists in one hand, and let his other hand wander down Atreus’ body. "I'll tie you to the bed this time- make you moan like your mother... Your daddy know you enjoy being handled like a woman?”
Atreus thrashed against Modi, “Get away from me!” he yelled. He could hear the excitement building in the man’s voice. It was sickening. “If you don’t want me to be your big brother- I can always be your daddy instead.”
It happened in the blink of an eye. - as if Jörmungandr himself slammed into them. An anchor grasped his arm as the world almost spun upside down. Kratos moved fast – the fastest Atreus had ever seen. Kratos caught Modi off guard, slamming his fist into his jaw – blood coating his father’s knuckles. The impact, and clear sound of flesh, bone and teeth made Atreus coil back.
The boy was set back on his feet, unharmed. Kratos raised his arm to shield him, signalling his son to get behind him. Atreus saw the fury in his father’s eyes, intense and endless. He rejected the use of his weapons.
Modi spat out blood, failing to block Kratos’ unforgiving punches, landing with the most sickening sounds. Modi’s pain and pleads for mercy only seemed to spur the Spartan on more.
Blood thirsty.
The moment Kratos moved in to gouge out Modi’s eyes, Atreus could not watch any further.
“No!” Modi sounded pathetic. Weak. “You kill me and all of Asgard will come crashing down on you!”
“I will kill them too.” He heard his father growl.
Atreus normally would not consider himself squeamish, but this was too much for him. He ran and hid behind a pillar, his back sliding down until he sat on the floor, hugging his knees.
The boy squeezed his eyes shut and covered his ear as Kratos forced another spine chilling scream out of Modi. The sounds penetrated through, the tearing of cloth and then flesh assaulting Atreus’ ears. Following an inhuman wail that echoed throughout the cave. That would stay with the boy until the end of his days.
The raw strength his father possessed always left Atreus in awe. Gradually, the agony that erupted from Modi’s mouth died down, and all the boy could hear was the sound of his father’s angry shouts and fists pounding solid muscle.
The strong scent of blood filled Atreus’ nose, making him sick. He built up the courage to see what his father had done. Both Kratos’ fists hit, beating mercilessly. Modi’s face was no longer though, his skull completely caved in, his neck broken and torn.
The boy had never seen his father so furious. Atreus moved towards Kratos situated over Modi’s corpse. He hesitated when he stood on something soft, hearing it squish under the weight of his small boot. He looked down, his face growing paler.
Modi’s genitals. Ripped off his body and discarded.
His father knew.
He knew.
Atreus side stepped, wiping the sole of his boot on the ground instinctively. He was nauseated, hysteria looming over him.
“Father?” Atreus’ voice was small.
Did he hate him?
“Father?” he said a little louder, shaking.
His father either did not hear or ignored him, consumed in his fury.
“….Dad,” Atreus whispered, barely audible. The word felt foreign on his tongue, but he needed him to listen. His bottom lip trembled as he reached out to touch his father’s shoulder tentatively. “That’s enough… Dad!”
His hysteria mounted and overwhelmed Atreus, leaving him to hyperventilate and sob uncontrollably. He couldn’t breathe properly. He turned his back to the gruesome scene. He needed to get out. He needed air. His palms began to sweat, his stomach flipped and knotted. He couldn’t focus.
A disgrace.
Atreus collapsed, expecting pain to burst through his head when he hit the stone floor. But large, protective arms broke his fall.
“I…” Atreus wheezed, feeling as if his throat was closing. “I can’t-”
“Breathe, boy! Breathe!” His father ordered, his strong features hardly recognizable under the blood.
He tried, gasping. His vision turned spotty.
“Atreus!” his father called, stern.
“Stay with me, boy. Focus,”
Atreus clutched at his father’s arms, trying to do as he was told.
Slowly, he began to focus and looked up at Kratos’ face. He saw him breathe in through his nose and exhale out of his mouth, wordlessly demonstrating for his son to follow. Atreus did so, watching his father carefully until their breathing was in sync.
The boy reached his arms up, silently begging to be held. He was so utterly grateful when his father answered, pulling him into his lap and holding him close. Safe.
Once Atreus was held, his breathing became better. He pressed his ear to Kratos’ chest and listened to his strong, steady heartbeat.
Atreus let his eyes shut and finally relaxed.
They stayed like that. He didn’t know how much time passed before he spoke up quietly. “I tried- I didn’t want it-“
He was hushed quietly, “I know,” his father murmured, his voice the gentlest he’d ever heard.
Atreus felt his bottom lip wobble, pulling back to look at his father’s face. He tried to wipe off Modi’s blood.
His father said nothing, but Atreus swore he could see guilt in his brown eyes. The boy slid his tattooed hand behind his father’s head, closing his eyes as he pressed their foreheads together gently.
“I-I’m alright… I promise.”
It was what his father needed to hear. Atreus didn’t want to worry him.
Kratos didn’t disown him in disgust or shame. That alone would’ve hurt more than anything Modi put him through. Atreus could feel the sorrow seeping through his father’s pores. He swallowed, voicing the words he wanted his father to hear.
“I love you…” Atreus had never uttered those words to his father.
He ducked his head back under Kratos’ chin when his father tensed, fearing he said too much. His heart dropped for a moment before he felt his father’s arms tighten around him a little more.
He didn’t say it back, but he didn’t have to.
Atreus knew he loved him too.
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