Faye (momofwar) wrote in saveatlantisic, @ 2019-01-29 21:34:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, *kristy, *melissa, faye, kratos |
January 29
FAYE ✦ KRATOS
DEAD WIFE/GRUMPY GOD REUNION G COMPLETE |
The question was: why hadn’t her precognition told her about this? Not that it ever told her everything anyway. But stolen away to another realm by a coin certainly seemed worth mentioning. Atlantis. She’d heard of it, but nothing could have prepared her for the room she woke up in or the strangely glowing messenger with its tale of wonders. She didn’t really have time for this. But the speech had involved a great need and Faye was nothing if not predictable when someone needed help. She’d ignored the instructions to check if anyone she knew was on a list of residents and simply stormed out into town. Jöphie flew off to do some exploring of her own, leaving Faye standing in the street with a dumbfounded expression. This world was nothing like her own. She spun in a circle, taking in everything she saw, until a strange two-wheeled beast came rushing straight for her. Something was riding its back, but it moved faster than any steed she’d ever seen. She should get out of the way, but she stubbornly pivoted to prepare for an attack, pulling her axe from her back. The notification had been met with immediate distrust, which wasn’t altogether surprising. Kratos believed this place was full of trickery, and he did not enjoy being here. If not for Atreus and his wilful decision to stay, Kratos would’ve been happy to have returned to their world. As it was, he could not leave the boy behind. Instead, he’d settled into a grumpy routine, keeping to himself and making use of the training arena and implements, all while eyeing the technology with disdain, confusion, and annoyance. But this was different. It was a very personal kind of lie this time around, and he was furious. He’d set off to the headquarters of these people to find whoever had put her name on the list, only to find the very distracting sight of an axe-wielding woman in the center of the street. A very familiar axe-wielding woman. He was aware of Jöphie circling overhead, but he could not focus on that. It’d been years now, since he’d seen the woman before him, and he felt his heart clench in his chest. The approaching vehicle made the situation a bit dangerous, and he moved swiftly, an arm around her waist as he pulled her out of the street and to his chest. “They do not appreciate threats here,” he said, unable to find other words just yet. “Though it has not stopped me from making them.” Instinct would have had Faye slamming an elbow up into the chin of whomever dared move her in such a way - and it very nearly did. But luckily, she knew the feel of her husband too well not to recognize him pressed up against her. She went from taut as a bowstring to sagging back into his bulk in an instant. Resting her head against his shoulder, she reached up to caress a hand up the side of his neck. “Are you telling me you have not been making friends?” Her voice held a soft tease. “I, for one, am truly shocked.” Kratos could’ve easily set her on her feet and let her be, to get a good look at her and to make sure she was herself, but he knew. He held her, and he knew. It was an overwhelming feeling, the sort of thing he was unaccustomed to, even after so many years alive and so many experiences. He’d spread her ashes; having her in his arms now was more than he ever thought possible. “I do not need friends,” he replied, fingers tangling in her hair as he held her where she was. “The boy’s been making far too many for my tastes. And telling them everything.” Smiling at his answer, Faye finally pulled away to sheath her axe. She had to reach up to press his face between her hands, and as always, it made her wonder if she should have made her human form taller. “If you never needed a friend, you would never have gotten to know me,” she insisted. Her eyes moved away from him, though, to search for Atreus as her hands fell away. “You make it sound like you both have been here some time. Where is he?” That pulling away gave him a close look at her face, and he could scarcely believe the sight of her. “If I remember correctly, you did not give me too much choice in that matter once you’d made your mind up,” he responded, still gruff, still Kratos, but with a noticeably softer tone that was reserved for her. “No, not long. But he has your gift of conversation,” he said. “He’s gone out exploring again, but I’m sure he will be at the home they have given us. He will have seen the message of your name as an arrival.” Kratos fell quiet a moment, then continued. “He is older than you will remember him, Faye. Sixteen.” “Sixteen? But--” Her breath caught in her throat. Atreus had been a few months from turning eleven at home. She only just started to siphon her life energy to heal his ailing body. Faye’s gaze snapped up to meet Kratos’ stare. While precognition wasn’t always clear on timelines, the premonition tied to Atreus put him as a child still, which could mean only one thing. If they hadn’t been here the last five years, they had to have been at home, living out everything that was destined to be. “Does that mean…” Her voice came out a little tight. Uncertain. “...Have you put me to rest, Kratos?” Had Kratos not known what he did about his wife and her sight, he’d have hesitated to say anything at all. As it was, he knew now that she’d predicted everything that had happened at home. There was a lot to be said about that, and those pieces that he didn’t learn until after her death, but there were more pressing concerns. “We have, yes. As you requested. Some years back,” he confirmed, pushing hair behind her ear with coarse fingers, but gentle in a way that most wouldn’t have expected of him. Her eyes closed as he answered and she leaned into the touch. It was good to know they made it through. That they were both alive and well. But it also meant he knew everything she’d kept from him all these years. “So you know everything now,” Faye murmured, opening her eyes to stare up at him. That he was touching her was at least a good sign. “How is he?” “I do. And there is much I want to ask,” he said, then ran the pad of his thumb across one of her cheeks. “I am content just to touch you at the moment, though. My questions can wait.” He’d lost two loves now; having one back seemed too good to be true. “He’s stubborn. Clever. Recklessly curious. They are going to require him to go to lessons here, I think,” he said, “which means he’ll undoubtedly tell them too many stories and make them ill with him. They’ve made him one of their warriors in training.” Faye covered his hands with her own. There seemed little reason to keep anything from him or Atreus here and now. They had done all she had foreseen and then some, apparently. But it still made her heartbeat speed up, to think of laying herself bare after all she had done to keep herself in shadow for so long. “You can ask your questions, my heart. Once I have seen our son. I worry I will not recognize him for the young man he has grown into in my absence.” She pressed forward out of his grip to press her ear to his chest. “But he sounds as if he still shines as bright as he always has and that gives me great comfort.” “I will,” he responded, and nodded to her worry. “You will recognize him. He looks more like a man, but he is still a boy inside, and he is more like you than even he was before. It is almost as though spending time alone with me has pushed him more in that direction.” That last part was almost a joke, and accompanied by almost a smile -- two things largely reserved for Faye. He adjusted his hold on her, wrapping her in his arms. “You will be proud of him. He’s good, like you.” A little beep from the silly device reminded him: “We must make one stop before I take you to our new home. Mimir is here as well, so I must collect him.” Faye huffed a laugh against his chest and then pulled back to grab a handful of his beard, lightly giving it a shake. “You cannot convince me his time with you has pushed him anywhere but exactly where he was meant to go, Kratos.” Her pointed stare was part loving wife and part knowing giant. It didn’t linger, however, because as fearless as she tended to be, she still worried his questions would lead to answers he didn’t like. The last of what he said snagged her focus anyway and her eyes went wide. “Mimir's here? Free of his tree?” There had been gaps in the prophecy that had maddened her for years. Mimir had been an obvious possibility for filling them, but she’d never seen exactly how that might play out. “Well, then.” Faye threaded one arm through Kratos’ and lifted the other. Jöphie landed on it smoothly, tucking her wings in. “I think I have a few questions of my own.” |