Fenrir by K. Sterling

6

“Sorry!” Stellan whispered when he tripped into the wolf for the third time. “I can’t see a thing!” He confessed and earned a bored snort from Fenrir. The floor of the cave was uneven and Stellan’s foot caught on things he hoped were twigs and branches.

“You’ll probably be wanting a fire,” the wolf muttered. Stellan winced and shrugged bravely.

“I don’t want to be any trouble but I also don’t want to freeze to death while I’m sleeping. You might as well eat me while I’m hot,” he joked, then hoped Fenrir had a sense of humor. “You might enjoy the warmth. I could keep a fire going in here,” he said, assuming that would appeal to a wolf. Fire and food attracted wolves to men and caused them to evolve into dogs.

“I know how to make a fire.”

“Oh! Great…” Stellan said as he squinted around them. They’d reached what felt like a wide bend and it smelled strongly of Fenrir. It wasn’t an unpleasant smell, like dog and moss and other green things.

“You can make one here but you don’t need to worry about freezing. You’ll sleep with me. I can’t have you sneaking away to set a trap or go back for that rifle,” Fenrir declared and Stellan nodded quickly.

“That’ll work,” he replied shakily. The only way Stellan could escape was if he could get away and make it back to Jötunndal but there was no telling what Fritjof would do. It didn’t seem likely that he’d order Gustav to bring the boat around and take Stellan back to Sæbø. Survival was his sole focus at the moment but revenge wasn’t far behind on Stellan’s agenda so earning the wolf’s trust and favor seemed like a good tactic all around. “I’m pretty handy at cooking on a campfire! I bet it’s been a while since you’ve had cooked food,” he guessed cheerfully. Stellan was terrible in the kitchen but he was competent enough to impress a giant dog, he hoped.

“About a millennium, I’d say,” Fenrir replied dryly but Stellan gasped and latched onto the idea.

“That’s a start! I can tidy this place up and cook!” He suggested and Fenrir growled dubiously.

“It would take all the hours of the day and a fire as big as this cave for you to prepare enough food to satisfy me. Feed yourself and toss whatever you don’t finish my way. If you last that long,” he mused but Stellan wouldn’t let that dent his optimism. Wrath was a hell of a motivator. Gay wrath would make Stellan invincible. He wouldn’t rest until Fritjof got what he had coming to him.

“Don’t underestimate me! When do we eat?” Stellan asked and the wolf chuckled.

“You do have a lot of nerve, boy. I’ll give you that,” he said and lowered. “Let’s go.”

“Go?” Stellan asked but he hurried forward, both enthralled and terrified at the thought of mounting the giant creature.

“Get on. We’re going hunting,” Fenrir declared and his head swung impatiently.

“Awesome,” Stellan whispered and drew closer on shaking legs. He paused when he was close enough to push his hands into Fenrir’s fur and spread them wide. He sent them over Fenrir’s back and sifted through the warm tufts and gasped at the heat and silkiness. He was so powerful and large but his fur mesmerized Stellan as he rubbed his cheek against the wolf’s side.

“Get up, boy!” Fenrir growled and Stellan jumped.

“Sorry,” he said and rose on his toes so he could swing his leg and slide it over Fenrir’s back. Stellan had to hop and winced as he reached for a handful of hair. “Sorry!” He whispered as he pulled himself up. “I hope that didn’t hurt,” he said and smothered a shriek as Fenrir shook beneath him on a laugh.

“You won’t hurt me. Hold on tight,” he said and Stellan grabbed fistfuls of fur as Fenrir rose.

“Are you sure?” He asked as he hugged Fenrir’s sides with his knees and held onto as much fur as he could.

“I can barely feel you,” Fenrir said, then lunged out of the cave and at the trees. The forest whipped past them and became a blur as Fenrir picked up speed. Stellan ducked and buried his face in Fenrir’s neck. The wind stung his ears and hands as they rushed through the woods and raced up the mountainside.

“We’re here,” the wolf announced as he crouched and allowed Stellan to slide off his back. They were near the edge of a pool and Stellan was enchanted as he peeked through the trees and went to explore the shore. Fenrir’s teeth snatched the back of Stellan’s hoodie, halting him. “Stay!” He ordered in a low growl and Stellan nodded and pressed himself against a tree. “I’ll catch you if you try to run and I’ll have my meal for the night,” the wolf warned.

“I won’t!” Stellan promised and swallowed the knot in his throat. “Honestly, I think I’m safer here with you than in Jötunndal and I’m not in a hurry to go back to my old life. And I’m never going to get a better research opportunity than this,” he said flippantly and the wolf’s eyes narrowed.

“I don’t understand half of that but you might be right about the jötunn. They aren’t to be trusted,” he said and Stellan’s lips twisted.

“Fritjof is a snake but I know who your father was so I’m not letting my guard down around you either,” he stated as his hand cut through the air. Fenrir’s head pulled back before he laughed.

“You’re very clever and you’re amusing. Now, be quiet and wait. Don’t make another sound until I tell you.”

“Got it!” Stellan whispered then bit down on his lips and held up his thumbs when Fenrir snarled at him.

Fenrir lowered and kept one eye on Stellan and the other on the pool. Stellan sat and hugged his knees and enjoyed the stars as he leaned against the tree. The night grew silent around them and Stellan let the smells of the forest, the soft wafting of the breeze and the moon lull him until his eyes became heavy. Then, as if Stellan had dreamt it, a large stag appeared and regally pranced to the edge of the pool. The stag was unaware of the giant wolf and lapped at the water as if the pond belonged to him. Fenrir silently rose and slid Stellan a warning glance before he crouched and dove through the trees at the pool.

As fast as a lightning strike, it was over before Stellan could close his eyes and cover them with his hands. He heard the stag cry and Fenrir’s barks and snarls as the sound of flesh tearing and bones breaking echoed through the forest. There was nothing left but smeared blood and bits of fur and hooves when Stellan finally pried his hands away from his face and looked. Stellan held onto the tree as he stood and opened his mouth to ask if they could go back to the cave but Fenrir’s low warning rumble stopped him. Stellan nodded jerkily and Fenrir launched and disappeared into the woods. He reappeared a moment later and galloped across the pool with a rabbit between his teeth. The wolf dropped the rabbit at Stellan’s feet and offered him a faint nod.

“You did well, boy. Get on and we’ll collect some wood for a fire,” Fenrir said and lowered in front of Stellan again.

“Thanks. I used to go camping with my dad all the time but we weren’t hunters. I’ve never been able to do it,” he said as he scooped up the rabbit. It was still warm and Stellan whispered an apology as he hugged it and climbed on the wolf’s back.

“It?”

“Kill. I’m not a vegetarian but I’ve never had a desire to kill an animal,” Stellan explained. This time, Fenrir strolled through the woods and stopped whenever Stellan spotted a good stick for his fire.

“Is that why you wouldn’t use the weapons the jötunn left?” Fenrir asked and Stellan hummed.

“And I’ve never liked guns. They scare me, and I’ve been looking for you my whole life. How could I kill a dream?” He said and softened his voice so there was a hint of awe. Fenrir wasn’t technically a god but he was close enough and gods liked to be awed and adored. And it wasn’t entirely an act. Stellan was truly in awe of Fenrir and it had always been his dream to get as close to the source of the myth as he could. He came to Jötunndal because of his family’s connection to the local lore but that lore was one of the few and earliest known Fenrir sightings.

“You aren’t like most men. Your name suits you,” the wolf said when they reached the cave and he crouched so Stellan could slide off his back.

“Does it?”

“Yes. You’re peaceful and calm. You think instead of panicking and fleeing, like most men. Like a rabbit,” Fenrir said and Stellan brightened. He had the rabbit tucked under one arm and the beginnings of a decent fire under the other. His odds were improving by the moment.

“Thank you. You’re just as fearsome and wise as I imagined. I’ve got to find some really dry wood or grass so I can start this fire,” he murmured as he looked around the cleaning.

“I have matches,” Fenrir said and Stellan’s brows pulled together.

“Really? Where did you get them?”

“That’s none of your business. Get what you need and get in the cave,” Fenrir ordered.