Atreus knew his mother wouldn't want them to mourn the anniversary of her death one year on. He wanted to be strong for his father as well, and try to make it a happy occasion.

He'd been eagerly preparing to surprise his father. He wrote ideas in the back of his journal whenever possible. He wanted to make the day truly special. His father could be grumpy and distant, but Atreus knew underneath the hardened surface was a father who deeply cared for him.

Admittedly, Atreus was concerned he would never make a real connection with him. That he'd never have a close relationship with his father the way he did with his mother. But after everything they'd been through, Atreus knew in his heart everything would be okay. He didn't have to worry anymore.

He felt liberated in a sense now that he understood more about himself. The journey to Jötunheimr was long and hard, but it brought them closer together as father and son. Their bond strengthened in a way Atreus never would've imagined. He refused to let them drift apart again.

Kratos wasn't his mother by any means, but he was a man – a god – Atreus looked up to. He found himself yearning for his father's approval, and maybe one day… see a smile on his face. He could dream.

Atreus carefully got out of bed at the crack of dawn, mindful not to wake his father. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and tiptoed outside. He wasted no time in gathering wood for the fire to start breakfast.

He went foraging the day before, and found wild berries to put in the oatmeal he was planning to cook over the fire in a large pot. Atreus didn't let the cold deter him, starting a fire with ease the way his mother taught him.

A short time passed before Atreus deemed their breakfast ready. He took two bowls out, scooping the warm oats into each one with a big spoon. He blew on it carefully.

"Boy!"

Atreus smiled to himself, happy his father had woken up just in time.

"Coming, father!"

He rushed inside with the two bowls in hand, careful not to spill the steaming contents.

His father was sitting on the edge of the bed, resting his elbows on his knees. He looked towards the door when his son entered, furrowing his brow.

Atreus was all smiles though. "Good morning, father!" he chirped, presenting the bowl to him.

"You made breakfast?" he sounded mildly surprised. It made Atreus feel like he accomplished something special.

"Mmhmm," he hummed.

His father took the bowl and spoon almost hesitantly, frowning down at the mixture.

"I hope you like it," Atreus sat down beside his father on the bed, his feet dangling over the edge, unable to touch the floor like his father's.

"It was mother's favourite," he smiled a little, digging his spoon in. They used to pick the berries together, she taught him which ones were not poisonous.

Kratos grunted, doing the same. Atreus could tell he was pleased.

His father almost had his own language. Honestly, the boy laughed about it occasionally. Kratos had a series of grunts he managed to decipher over time. It was cute, not that he'd d ever say it out loud.

He covered his hand over his mouth as he spoke up, his mouth full of food. "What do you want to do today?" he asked.

Kratos side glanced at the boy before looking back at his breakfast, "I do not know."

Atreus thought quietly to himself, his eyes lighting up when something came to mind. "I know!" he exclaimed, "How about I teach you how to read?" Atreus faltered when he saw the unamused look on his father's face.

"Orrr… We could go for a walk?" Atreus gasped, "I can show you where mother and I used to go- it was our special place."

This piqued his father's interest, "Special place?"

Atreus nodded earnestly. He hadn't been there since her death, and he thought today would be the perfect time to take Kratos there.

"Yeah," he said softly, smiling sadly at the sudden memories.

His father gave him a simple nod, and they ate the rest of their breakfast in quiet reflection. Kratos had a second bowl - so Atreus knew he liked it.

Once their hunger was sated, Atreus equipped his bow and arrow, never leaving the house without it.

They began their walk with Atreus leading the way and Kratos followed silently. His son knew he wasn't much for idle conversation.

"Do you ever dream about mother?" he asked, breaking the comfortable silence. He jumped up to touch a low branch of a passing tree.

"No."

"Oh," Atreus wasn't all that surprised. "I do," he told him, "It's like she's visiting me sometimes."

"They are merely dreams, boy."

The boy fell silent. They felt more than dreams, but he knew his father didn't want to hear it. They continued walking for some time before they neared their destination.

"Just beyond those trees up ahead!" Atreus explained, pointing in the direction. He rushed on ahead, excited to see the open field looked like after such a long time. In all honesty, Atreus didn't think he could have set foot here again without his father by his side. He needed his support.

It was just as beautiful as he remembered though. The grass was lively and green, and a variety of colourful wildflowers bloomed in abundance. It was very similar to where Freya's turtle friend laid, but better in Atreus' opinion - because he had such fond memories here.

Kratos took in the nature scenery, noticing view over the cliffs edge. "Mother called this place Witches Fall," he told him as he began picking flowers, mindful not to damage the fragile petals.

"What did you do here?"

Atreus huffed out a laugh, "I'll show you,"

He found a soft patch of grass to sit down on, patting the space beside him.

Kratos remained standing, arms crossed over his chest.

Atreus looked up at him expectantly, fidgeting with the small delicate flowers in his lap.

His father yielded after a moment, sitting beside his son on the grass.

The boy smiled, leaning back to lie down. "Sometimes we came here at night to stargaze," he confessed, watching the clouds move across the blue sky.

He couldn't tell if his father was interested or not. He peeked up at him, seeing his father looking forward, brow furrowed.

"Aren't you going to lie down with me?" he asked, the tension in his father's shoulders evident.

It took another moment before Kratos put Leviathan aside and laid on his back with a soft groan. Atreus propped himself up on his elbows, looking down at his father. Kratos' eyes slid shut, most likely listening to the birds singing in the distance.

Atreus picked up one of the tiny flowers he'd collected, reaching over his father.

Kratos' hand shot out and grabbed Atreus' small wrist without even looking, making Atreus laugh gently. It probably wasn't the reaction he was expecting.

"Relax," Atrues asked, "Please?"

He felt his father's grip loosen, letting go of his wrist reluctantly. Atreus heartbeat quickened, feeling a loving warmth wash over him. He touched the course hair of Kratos' beard cautiously, getting a low rumble out of his father's chest.

Atreus hadn't heard that sound before. He couldn't tell if it was a warning or otherwise.

He swallowed his nerves down and touched his father's dense beard again. When Kratos didn't move he took it as a sign he could continue, smiling down at the perpetual frown on his face.

Atreus sat up and got to work, poking the sturdy stem into his father's beard. He spent a good amount of time decorating his father's facial hair in a range of small daisies and other kinds.

Kratos let his son - maybe because it was keeping him quiet and preoccupied. But once he finished Atreus noticed the gentle rise and fall of his chest, taken aback to realize Kratos had fallen asleep.

"Father?" he called quietly.

Silence answered him.

Atreus didn't see reason to wake him. He busied himself with a flower crown. He knew it was kind of goofy, but it was fun when he was with mother. He never stopped learning from her.

When he was putting the final touches on the crown, he heard something other than the gentle sound of his father breathing. It was a call for help, but not one Kratos would hear. Atreus heard it in his head.

He got to his feet and looked around, trying to figure out where it was coming from. There was a whimper in the trees. Atreus cautiously moved to where the sound came from, his hand on the grip of his blade to be safe.