Tyr x Reader

Twenty-Nine

A gasp of surprise slipped off of Tyr's lips, mixed with a curse against his father and the expression of pain that the spear caused in his flesh.

Blood poured from the wound as metal parted skin and muscles, scratched over bones and escaped on the other side of his shoulder.

With his teeth clenched, the god of war grabbed the spear and held it tight while he let himself fall back.

Taken by surprise, Odin stumbled, too old and short to be a match to his gigantic son who was multiple eons younger than him.

It was but foolish that the king of gods assumed that he could take the one god in a fight who had mastered war, internalised it to a point where he himself was able to become it.

Cold rage burned in this golden, mechanical eyes of Tyr as he fell to the cold ground. Ice and wood crunched under the impact of his large body.

Blood splattered all over his shirt. A few sprinkles made it to his fathers pale face. He flinched as the warmth suddenly touched his cold skin.

"It shouldn't have come to this!", the Allfather pressed out between clenched teeth as he wrestled with his son for the upper hand.

How much anger was in his voice even though he had no right to. If anyone would have been entitled to this kind of frustration it would have been one of the giant kind.

One just like you.

"You just refuse to give in, don't you?", Tyr asked as his hands started to shake, struggling to keep the spear from sinking deeper into his burning flesh. "You are destined to die!"

He could feel the warmth of his own blood run down his shoulders, how it seeped into the fabric of his clothes and made them stick to his sweaty skin.

Odin sucked in a sharp breath. With all his weight he pushed against the resistance of the god of war.

Tyr's grip slipped. The blade sunk into the ground below him, nailed him to one of the branches of Yggdrasil.

A scream escaped him, both born from pain and endless frustration that he had kept locked away in his heart every since he could remember.

"So that the world can end?!", breathing heavily, the Allfather had to take a step back.

His body trembled all over. Even his hands had lost their steadiness. It was so obvious that he was but an old man. Time did not show mercy on him.

Tyr still remembered the father from his childhood, not young by no means anymore, but with hair as red as the one of Thor and with a gleam of pride in his eyes.

It had been him who had taught him how to fight. And it had also been him who had told him many times that a sharp mind was just as lethal as a blade.

Now there was only a shadow of his former self left. A man of old age with a bend back and hands that could barely keep up his weapon.

And yet.

The god of war had been overpowered by him. No matter if it was because of his ambush. He had still lost this battle.

He had to swallow hard to keep down the pain as he raised his head just enough to meet his fathers gaze with resentment.

"You know very well that the realms will return.", Tyr said in a calm manner.

He knew that this moment did not call for aggression. He was in no position to irritate Odin even more. It would only lead to worse things.

But he needed to satisfy the urge that burned in the pit of his stomach. For too many decades now he had tried to put out this fire but without success.

As he caught his breath, the Allfather inhaled deeply, closed his eyes and straightened his back. It was as if he had read his sons mind and did not want to appear laughable.

"I am Odin, king of all Aesir gods.", his old voice was suddenly so cold, almost as freezing as the thin layer of ice that covered the branches of the world tree. "I will not perish."

"It is fate."

"And I will object to it. You do not understand, you're just a boy who spends his time travelling the realms. Making friends."

"I gathered knowledge."

"To rebel against me."

"To find an alternative!", taken by his frustration, Tyr tried to sit up but had to lay back down as the spear threatened to tear open the wound wider that covered almost his entire shoulder. "I wanted you to listen to me... You could have spared the giants to object fate. You could have made them friends instead of rivals."

Odin's gaze darkened.

"And you?", he asked as he wrapped his fingers around his spear again, one by one. "You went behind my back and made them allies to your cause."

A sharp pain cut through Tyr's flesh as the blade turned inside his shoulder. Blood came gushing out, like water from a waterfall.

The warmth was the only thing that kept his mind sane in this world of cold and nothing.

His legs felt like they were paralysed. His mind kept screaming to run.

"I...", his golden eyes narrowed as he reached out to grab the spear once more in protest. "I wanted to find a way... to not lead them against you."

"Oh, I did find a way."

"Slaughter."

Odin shrugged.

"Perhaps. But remember, that is why we both are alive today. I, because there is no Ragnarök without the giants. And you, because your destiny was it to die in the very place where all the realms end."

Beads of sweat ran down Tyr's wrinkled forehead as he managed to sit up. His free hand dug into the sand that covered the ground beneath him.

"And I must thank you for at least that...", he muttered as he forced himself back to his feet, the blade still stuck in his flesh and stood up to his full height. "It gave me time to find someone... Someone whom I'd leave this universe for."

And with those words he broke the spear in two with his bare hands.