With his gaze as grim as death, Tyr walked the hallways of the great lodge. His posture was as calm and relaxed as always, but just below the surface burned a kind of fire that he himself had thought was long gone.

All of a sudden he felt the wish, no, the urge, to rage war upon Asgard and every single one and thing that came in his way.

It had been long ever since he had felt blood on his hands. His mind didn't even remember how it was to take a life no more.

But his body did not forget. And it would never forget since it had been born for this one and only thing.

War.

His hands flinched at the memory. Strength rushed through his athletic arms, made his slender fingers curl.

If he wanted to he could kill a man his bare hands.

His body thirsted for blood. But for the longest time his mind had refused to kill without reason.

And now?

Now he could no longer deny that there was a reason to kill, truly. One single reason. But, oh, how much it made him think that war was appropriate.

It kind of scared him to admit that he wouldn't have a problem with killing a few, not in your name, Tyr was no fool, he knew you would never appreciate that.

However, for you?

Perhaps.

How he hated that your mere existence made him overthrow all his long worked out principles.

And yet.

He did not complain. It was but a part of him. His purest desires to love and care for you. And he would dwell in it. No matter the cost. No sacrifice would be big enough.

All of a sudden a figure crossed the corner of his vision. It did not need him a second glance to know who it was. And it only fuelled his anger further.

"Allfather.", how strangely calm his voice was as he changed his direction to approach the man that he called father out of simple politeness.

However, Odin did not react to his sons call. Instead he just kept walking. Strangely enough, it seemed like he truly ignored him.

Or avoided him.

But what was the difference?

Either way, he did not wish to exchange words.

"Very well then.", Tyr said to himself and picked up one of the many jugs that were scattered all over the long tables. "I called out for you!"

With full force he threw the wooden jug right at the Allfather. He did not aim for him though, so it missed just by the width of a hand, and shattered against the wall behind the old god.

Startled, perhaps even surprised that after all the years the god of war had chosen violence over diplomacy, the Allfather stopped in his tracks and stared at the wall.

Suddenly the great lodge fell silent. It was the heavy kind, pressed and tense. All eyes were on Tyr. Yet he could not have cared less. There was nothing that he valued about the opinions of other gods about him.

What he wanted was a serious talk with his father.

Slowly, the golden liquid of mead dripped down the wooden panels of the walls. The smell of honey was in the air, mixed with sweat and disgust.

Odin visibly swallowed. Then he turned his head to look at his son with a narrowed eye.

"It's been a while since you've gotten angry with me, Tyr.", he said with a smile, so obviously fake yet a disgusting attempt to make amends.

He wanted to get away without any effort. Just as always.

But Tyr refused to let him get off so easily. Not when it came to this matter. Not when he had to fear the price that would be paid for his recklessness.

With his teeth clenched he stared his father down for a moment. Then his golden eyes fell shut and he took a deep breath to calm himself.

"Not here.", the god of war said in a relaxed but firm voice that made clear that this was not up for debate. "To your study."

It was a demand.

And Odin hesitated.

That small, so unimportant gesture made Tyr feel a certain kind of suspicion.

The Allfather loved his study. He would be down in that cave for days at a time, sometimes even weeks, months, if his madness came over him once more.

So why did he seem to refuse now?

"Oh.", Tyr breathed with his eyebrows raised as he was no fool at all. "So I have to go there."

Without waiting for a response, a plead to wait or anything than could have bought Odin some time, the god of war pushed past his father in a harsh manner to walk down the corridor that led straight to the study.

He expected residence.

But nothing came.

It was strange to see Odin so unmoved about something. He clearly had something to hide and yet he did not try harder to keep it hidden.

A dark thought crossed Tyr's mind.

Perhaps he had something to hide. But not anymore. Maybe he was too late already. Possibly you were already beyond his reach.

Whatever it was, all of these possibilities, realistic or not, managed to make his heart race.

All of a sudden his feet refused to walk on. His legs froze.

"Tyr.", the Allfather called out to him, both unmoved and uninterested what could happen next. "You've lied to me before. I never trusted you again after that even though I am your father. Now think about those who don't have such a close bond with you. Think about the consequences of your lies."

All the hairs in the back of Tyr's neck stood up straight all at once. A layer of goosebumps grew on his arms, only to send a shiver down his spine that was so cold that he felt like the blood froze in his veins.

How right the Allfather was. How right and yet so wrong.

It made him sick to his stomach to admit it. But in the end it was a fact that needed to be accepted.

"No lies.", it slipped off Tyr's lips. "I never lied to you, my Helchild..."