Tyr x Reader

Three

A low hum travelled through the empty Helheim as footsteps stopped in the snow.

Music was something that weighted the living joy, lightened the heart and made tears flow. People could create love and burn worlds with the sound of their voice. It was something powerful, so wonderful and strange that even the gods and all those with more power had taken a liking to it.

Irritated by the sudden softness that cut through the unforgiving winter, the stranger stopped and looked around.

Thousands of layers of fabric kept him from falling victim to the cold. A film of ice had already spread over his shoulders, he could feel his skin tightening.

And despite the discomfort, his legs would not move any further. His ears feasted on the melody dancing in the wind.

"What is that?", he asked himself as his lips turned blue from the cold. "Who..."

Enchanted by these strange sounds, sweet yet so infinitely desperate, he turned to follow what his mind did not understand but his heart desired without a doubt.

A smile made its way to his lips, the first in many, many days.

Or has it been months already?

Years, perhaps?

In the end time did not matter for he was a being of endlessness. However, whoever made these sounds, sang this calm melody, seemed to be ephemeral.

Curiosity nestled in his heart. He wanted to know the mouth, that was able to create these sounds, wanted to see into the eyes and hold the hand that belonged to the one.

A strange thing to feel, he couldn't deny it. He couldn't even say why he felt all of these things, why he had this desire nestling inside his flesh all of a sudden.

Perhaps it was the voice. Or the song that his ears refused to understand.

But he knew for certain that he needed to follow to find the source.

Snow crunched under his bare feet. Like glass, ice shattered, dug into his soles and made them bleed, barely enough to consider it a wound but enough to acknowledge its existence.

It didn't bother him. Not much bothered him unless it was important to his research, if it calmed his thirst for knowledge or truly managed to touch his heart.

The latter was more like a miracle. Thanks to his father, a man of true cruelty without boundaries, he had quickly learned to feel less and ask more.

However, every now and then he would find creatures on his journeys, small or big, powerful or just as innocent as a butterfly. It were these creatures that managed to make him want to bend down to his knees and embrace them so that they wouldn't have to endure the harshness of the realms no more.

He was at the foot of a mountain as the voice suddenly faded. His heart skipped a beat, afraid to loose this sweetness for all eternity.

But as his eyes wandered across the blanket of pure white, untouched, undisturbed, he spotted small blossoms of red.

Blood.

It wasn't a sight he hadn't seen before. He was by far not a man of innocence, especially not with a family like his, a bloodline stained with other bloodlines.

But it was still a strange sight.

Helheim was a place of death. For the dead. Not a single living being was to be found in this realm, therefore no one could bleed.

Unless there was a visitor. Just like him yet obviously so completely different.

Suddenly, another sound cut through the windy heights. It was so soft, so broken as if a small child had whispered a desperate plead to the sky.

It was such a bittersweet sound. Yet it was enough to drive his heart towards it once more.

He did not know why but his lips started to move in an attempt to copy this exact sound. He wanted to know how to sing it. He wanted to create beauty like this as well.

Yet, despite his wish and effort, he failed. Not just once, not twice but so often that it made frustration tie his throat. He pulled a face, both because of the dissatisfaction and the ice that struck his face.

His legs started to carry him closer, around the sharp rock that stretched all the way up to the greyish clouds. Snow fell down the blank stone as his hand kept running along to give him a sense of comfort, fake safety.

If this world wanted him it would devour his entire existence with all he had and leave nothing to be remembered by.

Snow cracked under his every step as he rounded half the top of the mountain and came to a stand as he found himself at the face of a view that reached further than he had ever seen.

A realm of ice and snow opened up before his eyes, wrapped in grey clouds and the chilly presence of death.

But it wasn't the small rays of light that found their way through the veil of clouds that made him stop and wonder. It wasn't even the gigantic raven that seemed to look down on everything that dared to move.

No, instead of all these things his attention was drawn to a small hideout that was hidden between stone and snow. And in all of this stone, covered under layers of snow and tortured by ice growing from the lashes sat a small, human like creature.

At the verge of death, weaker than you had ever been, more confused than you had deemed possible, you sat in the snow, bleeding.

Soft rays of sun gently stroked your shivering lips, cracked and broken due to the cold. Your tongue was unable to form a single word. But your lips managed to create a gentle sound that came from within the heart that beat for your people.

You didn't even notice the stranger as he approached, wonder written all over his face. All you did was stare into the sun, your mind foggy and your life fading.

"Who... are you?", the stranger asked.

Your eyes moved up but they did not see him. Instead, your lips created more sounds. You almost managed to create an entire song.

And at the last note you fell silence and the world went dark.