Fenrir's Binding: The Queen and The Barbarian

Chapter Seven: Season Of The Serpent

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 Seven: Season of the Serpent

"The world is indeed comic, but the joke is on mankind."

- H.P. Lovecraft

Maeve let out a groan as she weakly opened her eyes and found herself lying in bed, completely covered up with blankets.

"You are awake. Thank the gods, I was getting quite worried." Turning her head, she spotted Tusk as he knelt by a fire.

"Tusk?" she said in surprise. "What-what happened?"

"You were lost," he commented, his eyes focused on an iron cauldron that hung over the fire. "It was a mistake to have taken you out so far, especially in such dire weather. You were lucky that I found you, otherwise those Dark Young would have eaten you."

Maeve shivered as she pulled the blanket closer to her.

"G-G-God, I'm freezing," her teeth chattered. It was then that Maeve suddenly became aware of a welcome aroma that made her mouth water. "What is that?"

"Stew," Tusk answered. Grabbing a bowl, he reached into the cauldron with a spoon-like utensil that appeared to be made from bone, unbothered by the heat as he made three scoops. Once he finished, the warrior then approached Maeve and handed her meal. "Here, eat this, the broth especially."

Sitting up, Maeve took the bowl and spoon, then took a hesitant sip. Surprised by the delicious flavor, the celebrity started to dig in, completely famished.

"Do you like it?" Tusk asked as he got a bowl for himself.

She nodded. "It's good. Thank you."

The barbarian grunted as he scooped up some stew for himself, pulling up a chair beside her.

"Nothing better than having a warm stew during a cold winter day," he commented as he raised a spoon and started to eat.

The two of them quietly ate in silence as they both listened to the wind howling outside, the hearth crackling with small fiery pops.

"So," Maeve began, "are you going to explain why you wanted me to grab your sword?"

Tusk stopped chewing, swallowing his food.

"It is nothing," he waved as he continued eating.

Maggie frowned, leaning forward in her seat. "Come on, Tusk. Don't bullshit me. You know something. What aren't you telling me?"

The barbarian's spoon froze, his eyes dark.

"Given everything that you have seen, everything you know now," he spoke his voice low and gruff, "...do you truly wish to know more?"

The way the question was phrased had a hint of warning, one that seemed to suggest that it was something better left alone. For a brief second, Maeve had considered pressing, if only for the sake of satisfying her curiosity, but as she recalled the dark knowledge that Tusk unveiled to her earlier, the celebrity found herself more wary.