Chapter Text
Freya’s not sure when it happened.
For years, Midgard had been her prison, a constant reminder of all she had lost and was being kept from. Her sadness and regret soon turned to anger, anger she satisfied with every monster or raider she could get her hands on.
But the carnage did little to fix her past mistakes or mend her broken heart. Her rage eventually died out.
But with time, came perspective. Freya learned to accept her place in this realm, finding appreciation for its beauty, and comfort in its creatures. But even then, her heart did not beat for this realm. It beat for Vanaheim, for her brother… for her son .
But everything changed once she met them.
For all her magic and clairvoyance, Freya could have never predicted just how pivotal her meeting with the tattooed man and his child would be. Kratos and Atreus had brought many things back into her life that she thought she had lost forever. For better or for worse, she was who she was today because of them.
And that is when it happened. When she was able to deal with her past properly, and finally sever Odin's hold on her. That is when Freya stopped thinking of Midgard as her prison and began thinking of it as her home.
Normally, having such thoughts would be distracting, which once would have been dangerous to do while traveling through Midgard. But ever since Ragnarok, things had died down significantly. Hel-Walkers had been completely wiped out, courtesy of the Shield Maidens. Most Raiders had moved on to different lands, and the Draugeur and Troll population had all but dwindled out. Humans that had taken up shelter in Asgard were slowly beginning to repopulate the lands. Things had gotten so busy, that Freya had decided not to walk on the main road, opting to fly above the trees of the Wildwoods in her bird form.
Freya looked down at the ground below. Were she to fly east, she would reach Kratos's home in just under 10 minutes. It had been a while since she had seen the spartan. Ragenrok had left many scars on the remaining realms, along with many issues that needed to be addressed. It would have taken 10 years for anybody else, but with two Gods and the self-proclaimed “smartest man alive” working in tandem, it had barely taken 2.
Once some semblance of peace had been restored, Mimir had proposed that they temporarily go their separate ways, reasoning that they could do more good for the 8 realms spread out than gathered in one place. Freya had agreed and Kratos had…grunted, but Mimir took that as a yes.
So, Freya returned to Vanaheim to help Sif and the remaining Aesir and Vannir, Mimir left with Sigrun to find a proper replacement for Hræsvelgr, and Kratos returned to Midgard, overseeing the mortals and becoming something of a guardian.
After all this time, visiting Kratos wouldn’t be uncalled for. Freya still didn’t know if she was capable of forgiving Kratos for what he had done, but she was long past hating him for it.
Besides, it’s not as if he was going to visit her.
Suddenly, Freya heard a very familiar piercing scream, and the sounds of combat coming from somewhere east of her.
Raiders
Without a second thought, Freya took off in the direction of the sound. Normally, Freya wasn’t one to seek out combat without reason, but she hadn't had a good fight in a long time, and she desperately needed to blow off some steam.
Using her superior senses, Freya quickly honed in on the source of sound. She dove under through the trees and came to a small pass near a water stream. Freya landed on a nearby tree and was horrified at what she found. Over 2 dozen dead raiders were strewn about the pass. Bodies were missing limbs, blood stained the grass. And in the middle of it all stood not a beast or monster, but a man .
The man had bronze skin, dark blonde hair, and a shaved face.
He wore a simple outfit, black pants with some light metal plating, and simple robes that were lined with gold. He wasn’t dressed like a warrior or even a merchant. But his outfit did little to hide his muscular frame, or the sword strapped to the side of his belt. His hands were covered in blood, but the stranger showed no signs of injury or fatigue.
The fact that this man was most likely responsible for this massacre wasn’t what worried Freya. She had encountered many beings over the years, all capable of similar, if not greater power than what the stranger had displayed. No, what worried Freya was that there was a being capable of such power that she wasn’t familiar with. He wasn’t of any species she recognized, but there was something familiar about him.
“You know,” The man said, interrupting Freya’s thoughts “While I do not mind having an audience, it is quite rude to spy.”
Freya tilted her head in confusion. Who was the man talking to? It’s not like he left any surviv-
Then, the man looked up at the trees and looked directly at Freya. His face wore a friendly smile, but his eyes bore into her.
“Why not come down here and have a closer look?” the man said in a welcoming, almost condescending tone.
Freya was in shock. No mortal should be able to see through her transformation unless she let them. Which meant only one thing….
Freya dropped from her perch and flew down to the man. If he was what she thought he was, then she couldn’t afford to let him run wild in the woods. At least not until she figured out what he was doing here.
The man watched Freya as she returned to her normal state. His eyes widened slightly upon seeing her, though he didn’t look surprised or concerned when seeing the many weapons she had with her.
“With a form such as yours,” The man began, “Why would you ever feel the need to change?”
Freya didn’t react to his attempt at a compliment. While Freya couldn’t deny that the man was… fairly attractive, as the goddess of love, she knew the difference between chivalry and a distraction.
“You slaughtered these men,” Freya stated, looking around at the bodies he had left in his wake. She felt no sympathy for these creatures, but acting like she did was a good way to gauge the man’s character.
The stranger looked around at the corpses, almost as if he was just now seeing them. “ Men, you say? That’s being quite generous, no?”
Freya looked at the men, intently, trying to discern if he was being sincere. He looked back at her, his face open but unreadable.
The man smiled before turning around and walking to the water stream behind him. “Believe me milady, I would have been more than happy to settle things without violence, but these “men ” as you put it held no such desires.” The man stuck his hands in the water stream, washing the blood and dirt off him.
“Although,” the man said “ I did not speak their tongue. Perhaps they did wish to talk things out.”
The stranger turned to face Freya again, his smile ever present. Freya was, frankly, at a loss. Was this the same man who had just laid waste to the raiders? He seemed far too relaxed to be capable of such a thing. However, if Freya had learned anything in her long life, it is that things often aren’t what they seem.
“Why?” Freya asked the words leaving her mouth before she could register them.
“Well the large one came at me with an axe and then-”
“No,” Freya cut the man off, which he didn’t seem entirely pleased about, but remained calm, “Why are you here , in this realm?”
The man’s smile dropped a bit, and his eyes narrowed. “ This realm?” The man repeated, taking a step toward Freya. “What exactly do you mean by that?”
Freya didn’t falter, but her guard was up. “You are a God, that much is clear.” The man raised his eyebrow at this statement but didn’t deny it. “But I do not recognize you, so you can’t be a god of these lands.”
The man paused, watching Freya carefully for a few moments before smiling again, only this time it seemed genuine.
“Are all the women in these lands as perceptive as you?” the stranger said with a chuckle.
Freya remained silent, which the stranger took in stride.
“You are correct of course, I am a God,” The stranger continued, “And to answer your previous question; I have traveled to these realms in search of something.”
“And what would that be?” Freya asked neutrality.
The man’s face darkened for a moment, his smile giving way to a snarl, before shifting back to his usual smirk. “Oh, nothing for you to concern yourself with, I assure you. Just know that I am not here to cause trouble.”
Freya watched the stranger as he spoke, searching for any signs of deception. While he certainly had a cryptic way of speaking, his words seemed honest. Still, if this man were to come across one of the newly rebuilt Midgard villages in his search, things may not end well for the mortals.
“You being here is trouble enough,” Freya responded, taking a step toward the mysterious God. “Once the gods of these realms learn of your presence here, they will stop at nothing to be rid of you. It would be in your best interest to leave now while you are still able.”
The man watched Freya closely, seeming to ponder her words for a moment before speaking again. “ On any other day milady, I might just agree with you.” The man said, taking a few steps away from the goddesses. “But unfortunately…I can’t put this off any longer than I already have.”
The man smiled one last time at Freya before being enveloped in a blinding light. Freya had no choice but to avert her eyes, and when she looked back at the man, he was gone.
Freya let out a breath she wasn’t aware she was holding. She had no idea who that was, or what this meant for the 8 realms. But one thing is clear.
She needed to find Kratos.