The battlefield, once teeming with the roar of ice giants, was now eerily quiet.
The ice giants, hulking creatures of massive strength, lay scattered across the grassy field, their bodies reduced to lifeless heaps of charred flesh and broken ice.
Icarus stood amidst the devastation, his chest rising and falling with deep, controlled breaths.
His golden armor, though dented and streaked with the remains of battle, still glimmered in the cold light of Vanaheim.
He raised his bow once more, pulling it with effortless precision as his eyes scanned the darkened sky above. His fingers loosened the string, and the arrow shot into the heavens, soaring higher and higher before disappearing into the clouds.
Then, a soft, steady drizzle began to fall.
The rain was warm, almost like the touch of a forgotten summer, and it washed over the battlefield.
It splashed against the charred remains of the giants, the blood-soaked battlefield, and the stains on his own armor. The droplets shimmered in the air, cleaning the blood.
Icarus closed his eyes for a moment, letting the rain fall on his face.
A faint, satisfied smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "It's finally over," he murmured to himself, his voice barely a whisper.
Once the rain ceased, Icarus started to walk away amidst the cheers of victory from this bunch of Asgardians with his bow slung over his shoulder, planning to return home.
But just as he reached his winged unicorn, his mount, the magical beast that can travel through realms with ease and take him anywhere he wants, he felt a large, warm hand land heavily on his shoulder.
Before he could react, Thor's boisterous voice cut through the quiet like a thunderclap.
"Where do you think you're going, young Icarus?" Thor asked, his voice deep and filled with playful authority. "You won't leave without a proper after-war feast. Not on my watch."
Icarus turned to face the Asgardian god.
"I've had enough feasts to last a lifetime," He replied dryly, trying to shrug off the god's grip. "And I don't celebrate deaths, Lord Thor."
But Thor wasn't having it. "Well, you do, now." He casually pulled Icarus along, his massive strength making it impossible to break free from the friendly hold.
The sight of the mighty god dragging the prince was almost comical, and Icarus couldn't help but chuckle after failing to break free. Thor's infectious energy was as overwhelming as his strength.
"It's not every day we put down a dozen ice giants, Lad," Thor grinned, his eyes gleaming with mischievous light.. Besides, no one gets away from me before the ale is poured and the roasted meat is carved. Come, let us eat. And drink. And forget the world for a while."
Icarus gave in with a sigh, his resistance slipping away like sand through his fingers. He could feel his tense muscles relaxing as Thor dragged him toward the campfires, where the warriors had already begun to gather.
As they approached, the smell of roasted meats and warm bread filled the air. The fires were roaring, and the warriors who had fought beside Icarus were already celebrating—laughing, singing, and clinking mugs of mead in the air.
Thor gestured for Icarus to join them, pulling out a seat beside him at the large, wooden table.
"Now, sit, relax, and enjoy," Thor said, his voice softer now, a rare gentleness behind the usual thunderous bravado.
Icarus hesitated for a moment, but then, with a nod, he sat.
He looked around at the familiar faces of the warriors who had fought alongside him.
Soon, the feast began in earnest. Plates were filled with roasted boar, bread, cheese, and berries. Goblets were passed around, brimming with mead and wine.
Thor raised his mug, his eyes gleaming with pride as he looked at Icarus.
"To the victor, to the warrior, to you, my friend," he boomed, the sound of his voice carrying over the laughter of the men around them. "To Icarus."
"To Icarus," The others cheered at once, raising the mugs filled with wine or ale.
Icarus took his own mug and raised it in response. "To the gods and the warriors who fight by our side," he replied, his voice steady with a pleasant smile before chugging down the drink.
The night carried on with boisterous laughter and the crackling of the fire, where the Asgardians reveled in the aftermath of the battle.
Icarus, on the other hand, sat amidst a group of giggling ladies, all vying for his attention, offering him drinks, feeding him meat, and showering him with admiration. He seemed utterly out of his element, shy and slightly uncomfortable under the weight of their affection.
Thor, sitting nearby with a large chunk of roasted meat in one hand, watched the scene unfold with a knowing grin. He took a huge bite of meat and commented loudly enough for those who sat around him to hear, his voice full of amusement.
"Look at that shy boy," Thor said, raising his voice with a playful tone. "People don't even believe this is the same one who massacred hundreds of those ice giants without a single ounce of emotion on his face."
Icarus' face turned a light shade of pink as the women continued to fawn over him, offering more and more food and drink.
"Here, Icarus…" "C'mon, aah…" "This meat is better with roasted." "Oh, Icarus~"
He laughed nervously and tried to wave them off, but they persisted, and his discomfort only seemed to make them more determined.
Meanwhile, Eir, the healing goddess, sat off to the side with her jug of wine. She downed another large gulp, clearly irritated by the scene unfolding before her.
She grumbled to herself as she watched the scene. "Look at those shameless ladies," Eir muttered under her breath. "Swarming around Gaia's son like a bunch of bees."
Sif, sitting beside her and enjoying a hearty portion of meat, chuckled softly at the reaction. She leaned in and nudged Eir with a teasing smile.
"Someone seems quite jealous," Sif teased.
Eir rolled her eyes and scoffed, the tips of her ears flushing red. "What are you talking about? I'm not jealous," she replied dismissively. Before Sif even reacted, Eir went on saying, her voice a little too quick as if she was in too hurry to deny. "He's just a boy. How old is he, anyway?"
Sif leaned back, still grinning. "If anything, that's what makes him very special. The first bite always tastes the sweetest, after all. And I think you want it too."
Eir averted her gaze as she replied, giving more excuses. "He's Gaia's son, anyways. He belongs to the Olympians. There's no use in keeping him here."
Sif raised a brow at that, her teasing tone turning serious. "And yet, here he is. He's helping us, Asgardians who Olympians would love to go to war with, had we not signed the treaty with them, not expanding our influence into the mortal world. That says more than all the talk about sides and gods. If you ask me, it's his actions that matter."
Eir fell silent at that, her thoughts drifting as she watched Icarus from across the table. The firelight flickered across his face, illuminating the way his smile softened whenever he caught her eye.
All of a sudden, her eyes met his gaze; she saw Icarus raise his mug and, with a small nod, took another swig of wine. Her heart skipped a beat, and she quickly looked away in an instant. "Damn, that smile of his…"
Sif noticed that moment of their exchange, this time more insistently. "If you've got feelings for him, why don't you just tell him?" she whispered, a mischievous gleam in her eye. "Forget about the age and race differences. If you see an opportunity, you take it. That's the way of Asgard."
Eir's cheeks flushed, but she didn't respond immediately. She stole another glance at Icarus, who was still smiling across the table, completely unaware of her feelings.
Sif leaned in a little closer, her tone softer now as she whispered. "You don't have to wait forever, you know. There's no point in holding back. If you want him, go for it. What's a better opportunity than a drunken night?"