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peiskos-and-apricity · 2 months ago

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Fated to Fall ~ Sindri x GN Reader [Pt 10]

An: Totally meant to post this a while ago and just forgot whoops ^-^;

Tw: none

Chapter Selection

Previous Chapter

Thankfully the walk was short and enemies were sparse and easy, though you do take note of the tense air. The looks on their faces aren't ones you can read well so you didn't try to speculate too much over what the two might be talking about. It very clearly wasn't your business and they made that even clearer with the distance they kept. Eventually, the three of you do finally make it back to the gateway, a sight you were surprised to be relieved by.

“Alright. Shall we?” Sindri invites the two of you and you can tell he's as ready to return as you are. You can imagine he is quite tired after the night the three of you have had and for that you could not blame him. With a shine the gateway opened, the three of you stepping through.

“I hate coming home empty-handed” Atreus complained aloud and you were maybe a bit thankful to be involved in the conversation again.

“After Tyr was such a failure, I just wanted to-”

“Now hang on, little Jötunn. Tyr might not be everything you expected, but a failure? You saved him from a terrible fate. That's not nothing” Sindri tried to comfort the downtrodden boy, something you would say he was actually doing quite well with at the moment.

“And hey, maybe he'll still be some help to us yet” you admire the optimism, but even you knew that the likelihood of that was very rare. Tyr seemed less than half the god he had been.

“Maybe…” Atreus’ voice waivers.

“But father's not gonna go along with this forever. He's probably got our next hiding place all picked out” he is fully convinced of the words he speaks after having clearly already accepted this as an option. Knowing Kratos you couldn't find a reason to doubt it yourself. He'd seemed adamant about secluding the four of you in that forest for as long as he possibly could. You wouldn't be surprised if he was looking to keep up such a streak.

“Well, let's not make it worse by getting caught” Sindri, seeming to know better than to deny such a possible reality, instead chooses to change the subject.

“When we get there, I'll cover our tracks at the gateway and slip around back. And you two just act natural. But…quickly” Sindri's plan is straightforward, though you can't help but see the gaping hole that requires the both of them to lie straight to Kratos’ face.

“Foolproof” you mutter, Sindri's head whipping around to look at you, face tightened at your tone.

“Well if you have a better idea then please, I'm all ears” he implors you but you simply sigh, head slightly shaking.

“I’m only suggesting that the next time you two run off to some other highly dangerous and reckless mission, maybe you should have some plan for how you are going to get away with it” he lets out a barking laugh at your words.

“Well you can talk to him about that. Mister ‘runs better on chaos’ over here seems to think planning is a waste of his precious time” he retorts, both of you turning an eye to Atreus. The boy simply waves the both of you off with a slight crinkle of his nose before stepping foot into the portal. Despite Sindri’s ask of hastiness, the boy takes his time on a leisurely stroll towards the front door. You can only imagine his nerves at the thought of lying to his father again, so you decide it best to leave him to it. Instead you take a seat at the edge of the roots right next to the portal as you feel it much more natural than following Atreus inside.

“And uh…what are you doing?” Sindri asks as he busies himself with quickly covering his tracks. You give a glance before turning back to start shaving away at wood once more.

“Acting natural” you answer as you easily spin the sharpened blade in your hands, soon angling it to where you need it most.

“Right, right…” he answers almost absentmindedly as he focuses on his work. Though you do catch him continuing to glance over at you.

“Is there something you wished to say?” You ask, not turning from the work in your hands. The question causes him to jump a little, perhaps surprised that you had even noticed.

“No! No, nothing at all!” He tries to assure you, though it is a rather poor attempt; and one he gives up quickly at that.

“You just seem…” he starts, though he's reluctant to finish. You stop your carving and fully turn back to him, held slightly tilted at his curious behavior.

“Seem what?” You push him a bit. You regret doing so immediately when his eyes swiftly turn away from yours again.

“Nothing, nothing- I should get going! Wouldn't want anyone getting suspicious!” he finishes the gateway, walking off quicker than you could question him again. The interaction sits heavily on you, a strange twisting in your stomach sending waves of confusion through your system. What could he have been talking about? You had a suspicion of many things. Maybe your cloak was old and worn enough that the flecks of your power shined through, or perhaps your little stagger had still not fallen from his mind. It shouldn't really matter to you. It was the opinion of a near stranger after all, what could it possibly mean to you? Still, no amount of convincing got rid of the strange feeling that began to bubble. So in some attempt to distract yourself you return to looking natural, even if his words threw you off quite a bit. It isn't a moment later before the front door opens again and a voice calls out.

“Y/n!” Atreus’ voice is easily recognizable. You turn your head, catching both him and Kratos at the door.

“Food's ready!” He calls before turning back to Kratos. You nod and easily pack your things once again and head your way back inside. The smell of fresh food flows even to the other side of the door and you imagine if it's anything like your last here, that you would be happy to eat. Anything to break the three winter's long deficit of flavor.

“Is this sausage?” Tyr speaks at the table as you make your way forward.

“Uh…sure, why not” Brok answers him not so convincingly. It seems everyone's already found their place so you pull up a chair and take your spot where you can. Perhaps a little unfortunate for you, it's beside Kratos. You do your best to hide the way your body wishes to fall into the seat, your weight held in your white-knuckled grip as you take your seat without too much of a grimace. It's one of the very few times you don't mind that he outright ignores your entrance. You begin to eat.

“I remember food tasting better” You nearly spit out your first bite at Tyr’s words, eyes blown wide at the side-ways comment. Brok doesn't seem to have nearly as much restraint when he spits out his bite directly into Sindri's face. You cringe a little at that, knowing that couldn't have been at all pleasant, let alone for someone with Sindri's…quirks.

“I suppose you'd like to try cookin’ for this lot” Brok nearly growls the words at him, taking high offense to the old god’s complaint.

“I accept!” Tyr almost enthusiastically agrees, dropping his spoon in his bowl with a splash that manages to come back on both you and Sindri.

“...what?” Brok seems almost confused at the answer, though you hardly pay any attention to that as you're wiping away the steaming liquid from your face. You finish doing so just in time to see Atreus reach behind Sindri to grab something from next to him. The action was something you'd find rather innocuous if it weren't for the way Sindris eyebrows creased and his lips tightened to a line. It's then that he locks eyes with you, his posture straightening quickly as he fails to hide his discomfort. You offer him an unused cloth from close by, considering his was covered in Brok's spit and spilled food. His eyes widen at this, but he takes the cloth willingly, using it to wipe his face down. It is rather unfortunate, then, that in his haste to remove the grime he manages to drop the cloth in the food. You can practically feel the irritation building under his skin as he glared down at his now soiled food.

“Atreus, Y/n, we were planning our next move” Kratos, either oblivious to any of the situations transpiring in front of him or just simply not caring, address the both of you.

“Oh. So…where we going?” The boy questions with about as much enthusiasm as you'd expect after having his little late-night adventure. He is tired, almost obviously so, and is definitely not excited to be heading back into hiding.

“Alfheim, home of the elves” You raise an eyebrow at those words. Surely he couldn't be planning on moving to Alfheim of all places?

“Alfheim? You hate Alfheim! Why would we move there?” The boy is about as confused as you are. Worse yet is that even Kratos seems thrown for a loop.

“Move there? No. We are seeking information” Kratos clarifies, though that only startles you more. What could have convinced him to possibly go further along with Atreus’ plan? You were almost positive with how irritable he's been recently that he was more than ready to tell the boy that you've all done enough and it was time to find a new place to stay.

“The shrine of Gróa, young one. Your father tells me you found it there” Tyr leans in, maybe a little too close for your comfort. But then again you can't imagine sitting at the small table was easy on him.

“Gróa? The knowledge keeper?” Atreus questions, not entirely following along for a moment.

“Ohh, maybe there's a secret there I can unlock!” the idea clicks and you have to admit, it's not the worst possible move for you all to make.

“Aye. Who better than the seer who saw everything?” Mimir pipes in and once again you're inclined to agree. You are sure there must be many more to discover with their own secret messages. But if any of them could reveal the truth about what was to come, it would be hers.

“I wasn't sure you um…” Atreus tries to stretch his luck. You lock eyes with the boy just in time to shut him up. You swear that he just had a knack for ruining any of the small wins he ever got with Mr. Grumbles.

“Nevermind. That's great, Alfheim!” Of course this would be one of the few times he ever listened to you.

“Hey, don't go forgettin’ this what'll get you there” Brok tosses a stone high and right towards Kratos. He catches it, though you're more drawn to the sudden sound of the table being slammed, your attention drawn to a not so happy Sindri.

“You know what?” He saids as all eyes fell on him, an airy and forced laugh poorly covering his clear frustration.

“I'm gonna build a bigger table” he announces, looking at all of you before presumably leaving to do just that. You think of quietly following him for a moment, but decide that you would much rather finish your food first. You needed the energy after all.

The table speaks of how this plan came to be, along with a few other tangents that you aren't too interested in listening to. It isn't long before Kratos finishes his food and leaves his chair to prepare for the mission. Tyr follows soon after, obviously not quite liking the food, and Atreus shovels the food in his mouth as quick as he can to catch up with his father, leaving just you and Brok at the table as he scarfed down Sindri's share.

“So, you fixin’ to leave with ‘em?” He asks, his eyes fixated to his food bowl. You give no response for a moment as you consider the idea. It would be nice to see Alfheim after so long, though you do imagine Fimbulwinter might have destroyed some of its beauty.

“Why do you ask? Do you need help with something?” You decide to question him. Perhaps if he had something for you to do you wouldn't mind staying here too much.

“Well I was guessin’ you wasn’t, considerin’ y’ain't got no good rest last night” The implications of his words take a moment for you to notice, though once you do you finally manage to look him in the eye.

“You know about last night?” You ask in a hushed tone and he looks entirely unamused.

“Course I do. Them’s two ain't exactly subtle” you manage to crack a smile at that, nodding along in agreement. A short silence casts over the two of you but he doesn't allow it to last long.

“So, you stayin’?” He asks again. His persistence on the question leaves you wondering if there might be more behind it. Your eyes must show it with how quickly he turns back down to his food.

“I…” you start, still not entirely sure if you really want to let Kratos win and stay where he wants you. Before you can come to a clear answer a loud clank in the distance catches your attention. Your eyes are drawn immediately to the workshop where Sindri was now throwing around all the items he was using without much care, his lips moving in mumbled inaudible words. When he begins to turn your direction you very swiftly look back down to your food. In the end, the dull achiness of your body is the last push you need to make your decision.

“I think I'll stay” you finally answer and though he doesn't ever like to show it, you can tell the answer relieved him somehow.

“Good” is all he says as he finishes his food and leaves the table. It isn't long before they all begin to head out. Kratos and Atreus go first, a quick wave in their direction tells them that you weren't going. Though Tyr, the last to follow behind the group, is the one who asks why.

“You aren't joining us?” He questions beside you. You turn to meet his gaze before shaking your head.

“No, I've had enough adventure for the time being” you answer him, though for some reason that doesn't usher him out of your business.

“Are you sure? There aren't very many chances to head to Alfheim these days. From what I've heard, at least” he pushes and that does seem to sway you a little. You had quite a fondness for Alfheim-

“Alright, alright! Ain't got time for hangin’ around now, they're waitin’!” Brok yells from across the room and it seems like that's enough to get Tyr moving again, perhaps even a little startled by the intrusion on your conversation.

“It seems I've overstayed my welcome. I will see you all soon…hopefully” he mutters the last word to himself and once his back is turned you can't help but send a questioning look Brok’s way. One that he pointedly ignores by the look of it. Soon enough their voices fade out and you finally finish your meal. You clean your bowl before deciding to finally find out what Brok is up to. However, upon turning around you see no trace of the blue bastard that had put it in your mind to stay. Figures. Instead, all you hear is Sindri’s frustrated mumblings just under the sound of clanking and cutting. By the looks of it, he really did hop right to making a new table.

You decide it better not to just work through that frustration himself. In the meantime, you set to cleaning up the mess that the group had brought around in just one meal. You soon get to Sindri's bowl of food, having been eaten by Brok and left at the table. You frown a little at that, sending yet another glance in the grumbling golden-plated dwarf's direction. You take the bowl and clean it before putting it away. Eventually, you decide it's good enough, and instead find a spot to sit and pass the time with a bit of carving. It's only a few moments into this that you realize how truly and utterly exhausted your body has become. Your eyes, almost painful in their dryness, beg for you to close them. And your hands, as much as you will them to cut, seem almost reluctant to listen to you. Despite your resistance and unwillingness to simply allow it, sleep manages to take hold of you and you fall into the dark abyss of dreams.

Sindri allows his mind to become fully consumed by his work. His hands moved clumsily at first, irritation guiding them more than any practiced ease, but eventually it all melts into pure concentration and focus. His problems pour away as time ticks ever farther out of memory. This was his home, his sanctuary, a place where he could forget his every ailment and allow his spirit to bleed and infuse with every piece of wood and metal that met his hands. A master at his craft, a genius at his given field, there was practically nothing that could break this perfect, quiet, ethereal-

“When’re ya gonna learn not to waste good food?” Brok’s far-too-close-for-comfort voice shatters his focus immediately. He just about jumps away, his hammer dropping from his hands only to be quickly saved from the inevitable loud clank by none other than the irritant himself. Sindri quickly regains his composure and oh boy does broken focus set him ablaze.

“What are you-!”

“Hey- hey! Shut your damn yap! Finally got that fucker sleepin’” Brok uncharacteristically shushes him, which has Sindri blinking at him as if he'd grown a second head.

“What in all the nine realms are you talking about?!” Sindri near demands, voice lowered to a normal volume this time. Brok points a thumb to his side and when Sindri leans over the counter he sees you passed out on the chair they still have sitting out there. Sindri doesn't really get a good look before Brok quickly catches his attention again.

“Now’re you gonna eat this? ‘Cause I'm gonna if y’ain't, I am” Sindri looked at what Brok could possibly be talking about, only to see that a maybe not so fresh bowl had been sat down on the workbench. His bowl, as seen by the name etched on the side.

“How many times do I have to tell you not to touch my bowl- This joke isn't even funny-!”

“Hush yer damn mouth ya fuckin’ yapper!” Brok hushed him again, his eyes glancing to your sleeping form for a moment before turning back with a relieved sigh.

“All’s I did was pour another bowl for you. But if y'ain't gonna eat the fuckin' food, I will” Brok’s clarification quickly turned his indignation back into confusion, eyebrows knitting and arms unfolding.

“Oh…” Sindri speaks softly, regretting his harsh tone even if only a little.

“Did you clean the bowl?” He asks and Brok seems to consider something before he lets out a huff.

“Sure did. Cleaned it extra for the prince in need. Made sure to leave it far away from his royal highnesses work too. All perfect for you, your majesty-”

“Alright alright, you can stop now” Sindri waves his hands to stop Brok's sarcastic whining. With very clear hesitancy he goes to finally eat from the bowl. The taste of the food nearly doubles his already deep hunger, so the next few bites are without any pause whatsoever. Brok seems a little agitated, likely because he didn't get a third portion of food this morning, but he doesn't seem too bothered when he enters the shop. It's silent for a long moment as, to Sindri's complete and utter bewilderment, Brok sets up his work as quiet as a mouse.

“What’re you gawkin’ at. Look ‘bout ready to lose your damn jaw” Brok breaks the silence as he continues his quiet collecting of tools and resources.

“Since when did you start caring about anyone's beauty sleep” Sindri prods, a bit of contempt shown in the uncommon treatment. Brok simply waves a dismissive hand in his direction, never once even glancing at him.

“S’none’a yer business” is the only answer he gives, only further irritating Sindri.

“Okay, no, this is getting a little far past being able to ignore” Sindri sets down his food, arms crossed again and eyes staring directly at his brother. Brok, a little taken aback by his sudden hostility, finally looks up from the task at hand.

“How do you two know each other?” The question comes with an accusation this time, something Brok simply rolls his eyes at, though there is a sudden tightness in his features.

“I'd done already told you, I met ‘em half dead fightin’ Draugr, the fuck else you want from me” his tone is rougher, or at least much less flippant than it was just a few moments ago. Sindri can sniff the bullshit of that answer about a million miles away now.

“And?” Sindri continues to prod, Brok huffing at the microscope Sindri had just placed on him.

“And the fuck what” Brok snaps at him a little, eyebrows drawing downward in a way that dared him to keep going down this path. Sindri obliged.

“And what else! We both know this behavior isn't exactly all that common with you. What, were the two of you like, a thing-?”

“Of course the fuck not!” Brok swiftly shuts down that line of thinking, his nose upturned at the very idea of it.

“Then what is it!” Sindri once again pushes at him, digging for an answer. For a moment he's almost sure Brok is about to lay into him, quietness be damned, but he deflated just as suddenly, a loud sigh removing all the tension in his face in favor of a slightly defeated look. Brok turns his back to him, hands absentmindedly placing things where they need to be; or maybe just placing them wherever he feels like. There's a long silence that more than doubles the sudden dread building in Sindri's chest. He wonders if perhaps he did finally push too far this time, that this really was something personal he shouldn't go digging around in. It almost startles him when Brok begins to speak again.

“They’re lost” he finally admits, his tone suddenly entirely unreadable. Sindri's tense posture loosened at his words, curiosity biting at his very being as he leaned ever closer. Brok's words could mean a million things, though not very many seemed all that great to hear.

“What do you mean?” Sindri's voice is much softer now, no longer needing to poke and prod to get an answer, though he is still clearly irritated. Another short bout of silence passes before Brok answers again.

“They're driftin’ through without a damn clue’a what's up’er down, can't get a grip without tearing something apart. Don't got nothin’ left to guide ‘em. Lost in every meanin’ of the word” Brok's words are quiet, almost like he's mumbling them to himself. Sindri is left a little stunned by his openness, the description more disheartening than he could have predicted. Still though, it does little to explain his behavior. The two of them have met hundreds, if not thousands of lost souls over the years. All on their own paths of pain and destruction, all with their own problems and issues that they needed help with. What was so special about you?

The question lingered with him for a long moment, echoing through his mind. Even though the sentiment of the question rang true, it still struck him negatively. He couldn't quite understand why you seemed so different. You stuck out, catching his attention practically since the beginning. Your connections dug into the roots of everyone he held close, wedging your way into every aspect of his life before he even knew who you were. And what was stranger yet was that you just felt so damn familiar. As if he should already know you; as if he did. It felt almost as if his mind had been wiped of your existence, but the presence of you still lingered. A reminder in your eyes; the ghost of deja vu written in your face. He wondered if Brok felt the same. If that was why he ever cared enough to get to know so much about you.

“So you've taken it upon yourself to ‘guide’ them then” his words come out perhaps a bit more harsh than he meant them. The mix of this strange feeling along with his brother's even weirder behavior has thrown him for a bit of a loop, if he were being honest.

“Hel no. I ain't what they need and we both knows it. I'm only doin’ for them what I've done for you your whole fuckin’ life” his voice is strained, a slight bit of animosity hidden in his breath as he finishes up and heads out of the shop. Sindri blubbers for a moment, the implication seeming not so kind.

“And what's that” he sneers at him, not even attempting to hide the annoyance Broks words brought him.

“Make sure you sons’a bitches don't work yourselves damn near to death” he speaks over his shoulder before heading out the front door, leaving no room for Sindri to speak back, though it isn't like Sindri even makes the attempt. After all, this isn't the first time Brok has ever made such a comment. Still though, it does manage to squirm its way under his skin. With all motivation zapped right out of him after such a tense conversation Sindri only finds the energy to finish his food. But it's hard to still himself for long as a heavy feeling lays itself in his chest. So he tries to distract himself with something else; a task he finds quite difficult when he realizes the house is almost entirely clean already. A miracle, considering the way they all had been eating. It isn't long before he realizes that it simply can't be that clean after such a meal, his eyes not too long after drawing towards the likely culprit that lay sleeping only a few steps away.

He finds that he almost can't help but study you for a moment, Brok's words ringing in his mind over and over again. He can't manage to hide the slight frown that falls on his face at the thoughts, though he soon manages to tear his eyes away long enough to clear his mind just a bit. He tried to put thoughts of you aside for now and found it a bit concerning when that took a little more effort than it should. He knows then that he should probably go get some air. So he packs a few things away before putting on his warmest hat and heading out to get some more wood for the table.

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#fated to fall #god of war #gowr #gow sindri #gow x reader #god of war sindri #gow sindri x reader #gow atreus & reader #gow atreus #gow kratos & reader #gow kratos #gow tyr #gow brok #gow brok & reader #gow #god of war ragnarök

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