A Writer's Transmigration into the world of fantasy-Chapter 80: Qin Wei’s past life memory (Part-4)

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?"

Eir took a deep breath, her gaze still lingering on Icarus. The idea of acting on her feelings was terrifying, but the truth was, she hadn’t felt anything like this in centuries.

Perhaps Sif was right—perhaps now was the time. Maybe she shouldn’t wait for the perfect moment. Maybe this was it.

The night stretched on, and the revelry around the campfire began to wind down.

Most of the Asgardians, having drunk their fill of wine and eaten their weight in roasted meats, had fallen into a state of blissful drunkenness, their laughter and singing tapering off into sleepy murmurs.

The fire flickered low, casting long shadows over the tired faces of the warriors sprawled across the ground.

Even Icarus, usually so composed, looked a bit unsteady on his feet as he staggered slightly, his movements slow and wobbly.

He stretched his arms above his head, yawning deeply, before turning to bid farewell to the few still awake, his speech slightly slurred.

However, just as he began to walk away from the table, a voice rang out behind him.

"Icarus," Eir called softly, her tone holding a hint of urgency. "Could we speak in private?"

Icarus paused, a lazy grin spreading across his face. "Sure." His eyes gleamed with curiosity as he turned back toward her, sensing the shift in the air.

The remaining revelers cast a few curious glances at the two, smelling something suspicious going on between those two.

Without a word, Icarus followed Eir as she led him away from the campfire, stepping into the cool night air.

The quiet of the forest wrapped around them, leaving behind the distant sounds of the drunken celebrations.

They walked a little further, until the campfire’s light was but a faint glow behind them.

Once they were far enough, Eir stopped and sat down on a grassy slope, turning to face Icarus. She patted the seat beside her.

As he sat down and lay beside her, staring at the bright starry night sky, she spoke, her voice more serious now. "What are your plans after this? What will you do once your work here is done?"

Icarus tilted his head, considering the question for a moment. "I don’t know," he said honestly, his voice still a bit slurred from the wine. "Perhaps, I will return to the mortal world someday. The Midgard realm’s Earth... I have no interest in staying on Mount Olympus. It’s not where I belong. Of course, they have no interest in letting me stay there, because I’m not an immortal like them."

Eir stayed silent for a moment, her brow furrowing as she processed his words.