Zoltraak: Ragnarok- Chapter 23 (Patreon)

Chapter 23:

Atreus

“You’ve gotta be shittin me!”

Brok’s shout was entirely too loud in the enclosed space, the blue Blacksmith stared at the middle aged woman who glared at him with all the righteous fury of a woman who was entirely accustomed to getting her way.

She’d introduced herself as Miss Drückt and she was not only a plump woman she was also rather tall, but in spite of that Atreus’ first impression was that she had a pleasant face and kind demeanor.

Then Gabel had closed the door behind them… and firmly locked it.

“I ain't going to no dance, so I don't need to get fitted for shit!”

“You are guests of Lord Orden, as such you must be made presentable.” A man, a mousey, thin, reedy man Ms Drückt’s husband Unter; with a rather large moustache nodded as he stood slightly behind her. “Now, you will cooperate and stand here so I may take your measurements.”

“I seen what yer feckin nobles wear lady, I wouldn’t be caught dead in it!” Brock declared. “Frills and lace and pants tight enough to strangle yer crotch to dea-HEY!”

For once, Brok’s short height and relatively diminutive size worked against him as the woman he’d been shouting at, without preamble and in a display of rather impressive upper body strength for anyone that wasn’t his father, knelt down and picked him up, hands under his arms like he was just a stocky child.

Fern and Stark looked startled, even Frieren’s eyes widened ever so slightly.

When Brock’s legs were uselessly kicking in the air, Sindri and Mimir started laughing their asses off. 

That made Atreus laugh too, even as Brok snarled. “I aint never hit no woman in my life but yer ass is pushin it lady!”

“UNTER!” Mrs. Drückt called for her husband, thoroughly ignoring Brok’s squirming and shouting.

Unter ran forward and very quickly and efficiently… took Brok’s measurements.

Sindri was laughing so much tears were coming out of his eyes, he was hunched over, wheezing and going slightly blue, it was a little concerning. 

When she was finished with Brok, she carried his still protesting self out the door and closed it behind him.

“I AINT WEARIN IT YA OLD BATTLE AXE!” Atreus heard him shouting through the doorway.

Mrs. Drückt had a dangerous glint in her eye, and Atreus was just close enough to catch her whispered reply. “We’ll see about that ser.”

Somehow he had his money on her.

Then she passed her eyes over the lot of them, glaring at them, daring them to give her any further trouble. “Who’s next?”

His father grunted and maybe it was a trick of the light but Atreus could have sworn there was a brief glimmer of a smirk there before he turned and stepped onto the stool.

As his father cooperated the kind, sunny demeanor returned to Mrs. Drückt who hummed a merry little tune as she ran her measurement tape and took notes, all the while her comparatively tiny husband, Unter, inspected his father’s… feet?

Why was he inspecting feet?

—

After all their measurements were taken they were released from the measuring room and Gabel escorted them to their actual rooms.

Or more specifically the Wing of the palace that would be “theirs” for the duration of their stay. 

“This is the eastern Wing.” Gabel said as he opened the large double doors, leading into what looked like an entirely new manse within the palace itself. A grand hall, a sitting area, two stairways, and rows upon rows of rooms.

The floors were polished red, the walls were marble, Atreus didn’t know so much gold could exist in one place, and as decoration. And the ceiling was so tall…

It was beautiful. 

“Oh, our things!” Fern noted and, indeed, five more servants stood by the sitting room with a collection of their traveling packs and bags. 

“Should you need anything-” Gabel bowed. “Do not hesitate to inform the Staff, you are the guests of our Lord and will be provided every courtesy for the duration of your stay.”

“Thank you.” Frieren answered before slowly marching forward towards the assorted items. “I assume you’re to help us arrange our things in our rooms?”

“Yes Milady.” a maid with Wheat blonde hair, half hidden under her maid cap answered. “I am Amalie. Myself, Nettie and Lara will also be aiding in the dance and etiquette lessons.”

“Oh yeah-” Stark sounded miserable once again. “When will that start?”

“Tomorrow, at first light.” Gabel answered immediately. “We have three months before the Ball and we will need every bit of that time I feel.” Stark groaned in response. Gabel ignored it, and addressed Frieren once again. “My lady, if there is nothing else, I beg your leave.”

Frieren nodded. “Granted.”

Gabel bowed once more and departed, the other maids and servants bowing to him as he left. 

As the doors closed, marched over, and, because the Servants insisted they be the ones to carry things, pointed out which items belonged to their respective owners and followed the servants into what would be their rooms for the next three or so months. 

As he entered his room; it was dominated by something incredible.

A window.

And he wasn’t sure that the word fit.

It was… It was massive.

It was taller than his and father’s house in Midgard, gleaming, perfectly clear glass shined with the light of the setting sun creating a sheet of fire and bathing the whole room in light. Beyond that, the glistening waters of the Roshe lake reflecting the snow capped Rohr mountains.

“Wow.”

“Beautiful isn’t it?” Amalie said.

He startled, not realizing he’d spoken aloud and blushing scarlet as the maid giggled a bit.

“I’ve always liked the view too.” She said as she placed his traveling bag at the foot of his bed. His bed that looked far too plush compared to everywhere else he’d slept on. “Out of curiosity; you are one of those we’ll be teaching how to dance yes?”

Atreus blushed again, nodding. “Yeah… Father said a Man must know how to dance as well as fight.”

“Your father is a smart man.” She chuckled, and then bowed. “I’ll leave you to get settled. Dinner will be prepared and served in little over an hour young sir.” 

Atreus nodded, offering a halting ‘Thank you’ as he remembered his manners just before she left the room. 

As she shut the door, he didn’t immediately go to arange his things or towards the bed, or even towards his father or Mimir or Stark and Fern.

He just… stood by the window, drinking in the amazing view and wishing he could fly over the glimmering lake. 

—

Dinner was a collection of roasted ducks and a mushroom… soup? Maybe a sauce? Atreus wasn’t sure what it was but it was delicious really, however they seasoned it, it was far far better than anything either he, his father, or Fern could do on the road.

If this is how they were going to eat for the next three months then… well… he could get used to this.

“Mr. Kratos?”

Fern’s voice broke the relative quiet of the dining area and more than a few eyes rounded on the girl.

His father grunted. “Yes?”

“Umm… Well… I was wondering- Why are you interested in dancing?”

Now everyone turned to look at his father, because yes, it absolutely was a valid question.

His father didn’t even seem to notice, taking another spoonful of the mushroom soup. 

“Dancing teaches control.” He said. “Control of the self, your sense of balance, your ability to read and lead or be led by your partner in the dance. It was a vital part of who we were as Spartans.”

“Back when you were mortal you mean?” Stark asked, whispered really. The Servants weren’t here right now but who knows if they were close enough to eavesdrop.

His father grunted. 

“Aye.” Mimir, who sat crosslegged at the foot of the table in lieu of no chair being able to bear his weight, nodded. “You’d be surprised to hear it, but Sparta, brother’s homeland valued all manner of physical activity, Dance included, even moreso than the other cities of his home.”

“How many types of dances could there be?” Stark asked.

It was Frieren however who answered. “Thousands.” The Elf took a heft bite out of a drumstick. “Humans change their languages, so to do they change their dances. Not just with time, but with distance too. Even in the empire, the dances and styles celebrated in the far north are very different to the ones in the southlands. Not to mention the differences between dwarves and humans, or elves when we still had a population to speak of.” She shrugged. “Now, add to all of that, realms and gods, Giants and whatever else is in Kratos’ and the others world, It would be no surprise that dances can be very varied.” 

“Oh its absolutely fascinating.” Mimir gushed. “Hundreds of thousands of cultures each with countless dances and musics that go with them, its almost its own kind of magic. To see a Master dancer at their respective choice of performance-” He let out a whoosh of air. “It’s something amazing to see. I keep forgetting that you three are so young and haven't really had a chance to experience the vastness of the many wonders the world has to offer.”

“You almost make me feel excited to learn here.” Stark chuckled nervously, before looking down at his meal. 

“If you let yerself ya just might.” Mimir encouraged with a nod. “Both of ye should give it a chance.”

“Maybe” Stark conceded and Atreus shrugged. 

Then, the boy smirked. “Honestly, I’m just looking forward to seeing Brok in the clothes Mrs. Drückt  makes for him. 

Brok, with a forkfull of food halfway to his mouth stopped and glowered at Atreus with a look so vicious the boy couldn’t stop himself from laughing if he tried. 

“Mark My words good, kid, that Hag aint gettin the better of me!”

“Ten silver says she gets him done up fancy in for the big party.” Sindri immediately slapped down ten silver on the table.

“I’ll take that bet!” Atreus snickered.

“Do you even have ten silver!” Brok sneered.

“Suckers bet; I’m in.” Mimir’s smile was ear to ear.

“Gambling is wrong!” Fern replied with much gusto. 

“By the way Fern.” Stark suddenly said in the brief silence where everyone quailed under her stern glare. “You never did actually tell us what your Badger got up to when-”

Fern suddenly shouted over whatever Stark had been saying. “Fifteen silver and the losers share of deserts for a month after!”

“Wait huh!?”

“Fuck all of you.”

(X)(X)(X)

NGL I did get a little "blocked" on this one. Couldn't really decide where to take it until I finally settled on something in my head. So, I apologize for the delay. No real excuse for it other than straight writer's block. It can happen to any of us. :(

But anyway; The next three or so chapters will involve their time here in Orden's palace and I hope to explore a bit more about Kratos' past, advance Atreus and Fern/Frieren's magical training now that they have a bit more time to stay in one place and yes, get Kratos and the Midgard crew into proper ball room dance shoes :pIf you all have any ideas of thoughts let me know.