Fenrir by K. Sterling
5
“Whatsissss…?” Stellan slurred and moaned as he was snatched from a really strange dream about Fritjof and a giant glass of glögg. Everything swung around him and his stomach rolled. He grunted as he fell against something then began to bounce. He tried to put his hands out to steady himself but they were tied together and it was hard to open his eyes. The lids were so heavy and Stellan’s eyes rolled as he tried to see and focus.
“Go back to sleep, lad. You’re not supposed to be awake yet,” Fritjof murmured softly and Stellan hummed as he closed his eyes.
“Wait… Why are you…?” He got his head up and wrenched his eyes open as much as he could and frowned at Fritjof's back and trousers. Stellan wiggled and twisted and a large hand fell on his back, pinning him.
“You’ll want to save your strength,” Fritjof warned as the cabin door was thrown open. He skipped down the steps and Stellan bounced as he hung over Fritjof’s shoulder.
“Stop! What are you—?” Stellan grunted as he was dropped onto something hard and cold. He got his eyes opened and blinked up at the stars. His breath plumed and swirled in the frigid air and Stellan gave his head a hard shake to clear it. He squirmed so he could get his bound hands under him but he was rolled onto his back and Fritjof winced down at him apologetically.
“Now, you’re going to want to scream and flip around like a fish back here but that’s just going to tire you out. No one’s going to hear you. At least, not anyone that’s going to help you. Do yourself a favor and save your strength,” he repeated as he tightened a strap across Stellan’s chest, tying him down, then gave it a friendly pat. He disappeared just before Stellan heard the truck’s door open and close and the engine start.
“Is this a joke?” Stellan called as the truck rolled forward and turned. “Fritjof?”
But there was no answer as they picked up speed. Fritjof drove away from the coast and across the field and Stellan swore. His head snapped from side to side as the truck was swallowed by trees. Fritjof found a crude trail through the forest and Stellan’s heart raced as the truck crawled over tree roots and rocks. There was another eerie howl but it was much closer and Stellan struggled against the strap and tugged and turned his wrists frantically.
“Turn around!” Stellan whispered in a loud hiss. “Take us back!” He begged then muffled a shriek when the truck came to a stop in a clearing. The moon was large and low overhead and Stellan cursed under his breath when he recognized his duffle bags and backpack in the truck’s bed, next to him. The truck’s door opened and Stellan heard boots hit the forest floor and twigs snapped before Fritjof reached into the truck and loosened the strap. Stellan wiggled and writhed but he was easily lifted and thrown over Fritjof’s shoulder. “You can’t do this!” He screamed in a loud whisper but Fritjof shushed soothingly and a rifle swung casually at his side as he carried Stellan.
“This is our way and it’s my duty to see this done, as head of our clan,” he explained softly.
“Are you seriously…!” Stellan whispered back then swallowed a yelp as he was dropped onto the ground. He grunted at the sharp ache in his left hip and shoulder and Fritjof sighed heavily as he squatted next to him.
“This is the part where I wake you up and tell you this isn’t personal but it feels very personal this time. You’re a bright young man and it’s a shame to have to do this.” He gave Stellan’s cheek a gentle pat then reached behind him and retrieved a large hunting knife. “Normally, I don’t mean this but I do wish you luck and I hope this helps,” Fritjof said and left the knife between his feet, not too far from Stellan’s hands. He rose and backed several steps before he paused and lowered so he could leave the gun. “Just a little extra luck this time. It would be nice if you were the one to kill the great beast,” he said with a tap to his brow.
“Fritjof, no! Don’t leave me out here!” Stellan pleaded as hard but as quietly as he could. Fritjof didn’t listen or seem to care as he stood and backed toward his truck. “I swear, I’ll shoot you if you leave me!” Stellan whispered and heard a soft chuckle as Fritjof got in the truck and started it. “Fritjof! I don’t care what it takes, I’ll kill you if you leave me up here!” Stellan called a little louder but the truck’s headlights spread around the clearing as it turned and made its way back to the trail. “Fritjof!”
Stellan listened and prayed he’d come back and say it was all a joke but the sound of the truck faded and was replaced by the haunting silence of the forest. There were no scurrying things or owls hooting as the night held its breath. A gust of ice-cold wind rolled through the trees and ruffled Stellan’s flannel pajama pants, waking him up and spurring him into motion. He rolled to the knife and got it in his hands and stuck the handle between his knees so he could saw at the rope around his wrists.
Fritjof had left Stellan at the mouth of a large cave but all he could see was endless dark as he peered inside. He was surrounded by trees but Stellan could see the truck’s lights as it turned and drove deeper into the forest. Stellan looked back and wondered how far it was to Jötunndal. If he was lucky, he’d beat Fritjof and Stellan would be waiting when he got back from whatever he was doing in the woods. Stellan remembered that his bags were in the back of the truck and vowed he’d get Fritjof. Especially if he dumped Stellan’s bags somewhere wet or difficult to get to.
“You’re getting a negative review on TripAdvisor, that’s for sure,” he muttered then cheered under his breath when the ropes loosened enough for him to get his hands free. He grabbed the knife and lunged for the rifle. He raised it to see if there were directions on the stock then glanced at the cave when he heard the faint snap of a twig. Large red eyes glowed in the darkness and Stellan gulped loudly as he backed away. “Fritjof! Please!” He whimpered and looked around for something he could hide in or stand on but there was nothing but trees and those giant red eyes. “I’m so sorry! I would never disturb you!” He said as he hugged the rifle and the knife against his chest. “Fuck!” Stellan squeaked when a massive black paw stepped into the moonlight, followed by another and a giant head.
It was a great black wolf but it was larger than an elephant. It stepped into the clearing and Stellan’s head barely reached its shoulder. Its fur was as dark as midnight but there were glints of blue and green as it prowled closer. Great dripping fangs pulled into a fearsome snarl and the ground vibrated from its rumbling growl.
“Do you plan to shoot me with that, boy?” The wolf asked and Stellan was frozen with awe and terror.
“You can talk!” He mouthed and leaned a little closer, unable to understand how Fenrir could be real or that a creature could be so large. One of its fangs was as long as Stellan’s hand.
“Yes. How’s your aim?” The beast taunted and Stellan gasped when he remembered the gun and the knife and tossed them away.
“No! I’d never!” He swore and held out his hands as the wolf drew closer and sniffed at the air. “Please don’t!” Stellan begged then swallowed hard. “Are you really…Fenrir?” He asked and the growl became a loud tremor Stellan could feel under his feet.
“I am. Are you really my next meal?” The wolf asked and snorted as if he was disappointed before he advanced and opened his jaws wide.
“Stop!” Stellan screamed and the monster’s teeth grazed his arm as he leapt out of the way. Stellan rolled and crawled as he searched the ground around him and found a long, thick branch. He got to his feet as the wolf circled around and Stellan recalled that he was supposed to make himself as tall and large as he could. He rose on his toes and waved the stick over his head. “Go away! I don’t want to hurt you!” He said and Fenrir’s head swung back as he laughed. It was a high, shrieking howl that made Stellan’s blood run cold.
“You think you can scare me?” He asked and his front paws came off the ground and Fenrir rose and straightened as he rushed at Stellan. Stellan almost fainted as his head tipped back, back, back so he could see Fenrir’s head but the beast towered over him. The wolf opened its mouth as it dove and Stellan swung the branch as hard as he could. There was a loud yelp as the branch connected with the wolf’s jowls and Stellan’s arm throbbed at the impact. Fenrir staggered and crashed onto his side and Stellan tossed the branch away.
“No! Don’t be hurt!” Stellan cried and edged closer to see if he’d killed Fenrir. Stellan certainly didn’t want to be eaten but finding the mythological wolf had been his and his father’s dream. This would have been the most amazing thing to ever happen to Stellan if he wasn’t about to die. His hand shook as his arm stretched but Stellan couldn’t help himself; he had to touch Fenrir. The pads of Stellan’s fingers floated over the beast’s giant snout and traced a velvety ear. Stellan was captivated until a large red eye snapped open. Fenrir snarled and sprang and Stellan screamed as he stumbled and tripped out of reach. “Please!” Stellan cried and pushed his hand at the wolf, offering his wrist. “Take it and spare my life,” he begged and covered his eyes with his other arm. The moment stretched and Stellan finally peeked over his elbow. The wolf’s snarl was frozen as his burning red eyes devoured Stellan. “Take it!” Stellan whispered loudly as his heartbeat thundered in his ears and slammed against his ribs. There was a flaring of the giant nostrils as Fenrir prowled closer and Stellan swallowed a whimper. He extended his arm again and held it as still as he could but his body trembled hard as Stellan waited.
“Why would you offer me that?” The beast growled and it was a large, deep sound that seemed to come from everywhere and from within the massive, ancient being. Stellan swallowed loudly and struggled to gather his careening thoughts.
“You took Týr’s hand because he deceived you...” Stellan started then pulled in a shuddering, watery breath and sniffed hard as his nose ran. “He deceived you and you were sent here and I thought you might forgive me if I gave you my hand,” he explained quickly.
“You think your hand will appease me, boy?” Fenrir asked and tossed his snout into Stellan’s chest, knocking him back and onto his ass.
“Please! I don’t want to die! I’ll do anything!” He cried as he scrambled back. There was another hard, rumbling laugh that shook the forest around them.
“What could you possibly have to offer me? You’re smaller than the jötunn women and as strong as a child.”
“I’ve lasted longer than anyone else and I could have killed you with the rifle but I didn’t,” Stellan pointed out and there was another laugh.
“You wouldn’t be bartering for your life if you would have killed me when you had the chance,” Fenrir countered but Stellan shook his head.
“I’ve spent so long wishing you were real. How could I kill a legend and a dream?” He said, then took another fortifying breath and slowly stretched his arm. He was shaking but Fenrir held still as Stellan touched one of his fangs then delicately trailed his fingers along his snout.
“This is no dream, boy. You should be more careful.”
“I should be,” Stellan agreed but he was mesmerized as his fingers brushed through the soft fur around Fenrir’s jowl. “But you’re not as scary as the monster that left me out here, I’m realizing,” he said and there was a contemptuous snort from Fenrir.
“Some monsters walk on four legs while others hide in cottages and tend gardens,” the wolf said and Stellan nodded.
“I was stupid to trust him. He even told me he was fattening me up for the slaughter,” he said but tamped down his rage and swore he’d find a way to make Fritjof pay. “I’ll give you anything you want. I’ll do anything if you let me live,” he vowed heavily. Fenrir swung his head, tossing Stellan’s hand away and he began to pace.
“What could you possibly have to offer me? Aside from a full belly,” he added and there was another low rumble as he licked his lips and watched Stellan. Stellan cast about for anything from TheEdda and wider mythology that might be helpful but the only thing he could comprehend was the massive creature before him.
“Well… I can…” Stellan sniffed bravely and pulled his shoulders back. “You’re a little like a god and gods had priests and priestesses who served them, right?” He attempted awkwardly, hoping the flattery would help. Fenrir snorted hard and tossed his head at Stellan.
“What can you do for me?” He asked again. “The hand of a boy isn’t going to do anything but whet my appetite and you can’t hunt and feed me better than I can feed myself,” he observed.
“Right…” Stellan stalled as he tried to imagine what a giant wolf could possibly need. “I can help with…your other needs. I swear, I can be useful to you,” he said and Fenrir’s red eyes pinned Stellan.
“What use? I need food and shelter. I have that,” he barked back.
“Give me a chance and I’ll show you. You’ve let me live this long. What do you have to lose?” Stellan argued and earned a surprised snort from Fenrir.
“You have amused me,” he conceded and gave Stellan a shove. “Get inside the cave,” he ordered and Stellan felt a rush of relief and hope.
“You’re not going to kill me?”
“Not at the moment. I’m not particularly hungry and I want to see what you’re going to do next,” Fenrir said with a swing of his head. “In the cave.”
“Ok!” Stellan squeaked and leaned as he tiptoed closer for a better look.
“Get in there before I change my mind,” the beast repeated gruffly so Stellan took a deep breath before he stumbled into the mouth of the cavern and was swallowed by darkness.