Fenrir's Binding: The Queen and The Barbarian

Chapter Three: Wounds

Fenrir's Binding: The Queen And The Barbarian

By evolution-500

Genres: Romance/Angst

Feedback: Always welcome

WARNING: This story contains violence, coarse language and mature themes. Reader discretion is advised.

Disclaimer: Killer Instinct" is a property belonging to Rareware and Microsoft while "The Boys" is a property by Garth Ennis and Dynamite Comics. I do not own these characters.

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Chapter Three: Wounds

"To live is to suffer, to survive is to find some meaning in the suffering."

- Friedrich Nietzsche

Once they were back inside, Maeve was guided to the bed.

"There you go," the man said as he cautiously lowered her down. Once she was seated, the man frowned at the sight of her bleeding sides. "I'll need to clean and dress the wounds. You are lucky to still be alive."

Turning around, he set aside his large sword as he searched the shelves and brought over some bandages along with some potted plants, a bowl and some utensils.

"Is that...garlic?" Maeve asked as she winced at the smell.

"Dah," the man replied as he grounded it up into the bowl, making an ointment. "It stings, but it can help with infection."

He then started to mix with a knob-like instrument. "I'm going to need you to lower your dress so I can put the ointment on."

Maeve blushed as she complied, placing an arm over her breasts to conceal herself as she looked away in embarrassment, focusing on a nearby wall.

"No funny business, alright? I don't want you copping a feel of my tits!" She said heatedly.

The man said nothing, yet she sensed him rolling his eyes dismissively as he went about his work, wiping the cuts with a wet rag cloth.

As he wiped away the blood from her sides, Maeve was suddenly struck with realization.

"So," Maeve spoke slowly and uncertainly, drawing his attention, "that-that...thing...it was...real?"

She sensed the man frowning. "As real as you or I...unfortunately," came the ominous response.

"And I...I...hit it?"

"Dah. That you have."

Maeve looked down at her fist in wonder.

It was real...

As her thoughts lingered on her encounter, Maeve suddenly thought of the old man and those faceless winged creatures, then shuddered.

"You know, last night I dreamt that I had been rescued- well...captured-"

"By a faceless winged being," the man said without looking up from his work, causing her to look at him with wide eyes, her skin paling. "Dah. One of Lord Nodens' night-gaunts found you in the ocean."

Maeve was deathly still as a knot formed in the pit of her stomach.

"'Night-gaunts'?" she repeated.

"Dah. That's what they are called. They are his faithful..." The man lifted his head up, his brow furrowed as he frowned. "...I'm not even sure what they are myself. Part of me wants to say 'servants', but another part of me is inclined to believe they are his 'pets', but the truth is that those creatures are just as unknowable as their master. Their nature are as obscure as he is."