A/N: ignore typos, I'll fix in the next draft. Didn't sleep at all last night for coughing, so I'm not entirely with it at the moment lol. Love you all. A. Xxx
It had grown late enough to be early by the time we had the wyrdæ laid out in Leof's office and turfed Fréa from Ve's domain. Too late for me to do everything I wanted to do, and so I went to bed with Leof, and tossed and turned, fretting over all the people I needed to help before I finally took a back seat and handed the reins of fate to someone else. My anxiety tormented me, and exhaustion settled over me, a weariness not wholly resulting from lack of sleep, but deep enough that it clouded my awareness of exactly what made me so fearful.
Strange, I felt more hopeful of a positive outcome of our venture than I had at any point in the past, and yet I still felt scared, and tired, right down to my soul. I don't think I'd ever realised, even with my foresight, just what a weight carrying Fríge's memories, and Dunthryth's, and Darcy's, would actually be. I cared so much for so many people, across worlds, and because of that, two voices warred in my head, one asking if I would really pass responsibility for protecting them on to another, and the other reminding me that even I could burn myself out eventually, if I didn't learn to delegate.
I'm surprised Leof managed to sleep while my thoughts whirred away, keeping me awake. But he did, and I watched him until the sun went down once more, and the whirring of Milbank's shutters rising heralded the arrival of another night. Then, slipping out of bed, I went to shower and redress, and then went to make coffee, once again sticking to instant rather than fighting with ‘the beast', the coffee making monstrosity that only Leof knew the secrets of.
Once I'd suitably woken up, I petted and fed our various birds and mammals. Then I gathered up my feather cloak, and headed down to Georgie's room, knocking on her door and waiting while she shuffled around inside, pulling a hoody over her pyjamas and trying to tame the mess of her hair, which was enough to show her self-care failed more and more with each depressing day left carrying her never-developing child. I had wanted to help her for so long, and now I could finally offer her a way to have the thing she wanted most in the world.
“Sire. Lady. Your Highness... Can I help you?” she asked as she came to the door, flustered by my unexpected visit.
“I wanted to talk. To offer you some choices, actually,” I admitted. “May I come in?”
She stepped back to let me in, but her anxiety grew ever more obvious as she asked, “Have I done something wrong?”
“No! No, of course not,” I promised. “It's nothing like that. It's more... I want to fix what I caused Ragnar to do to you, and there are a couple of ways I can do that, if you wish.”
Georgie's hand stroked over her bump, and she frowned, looking down, “I thought there was no way.”
“Before, when I didn't know the extent of my magic, that was true. But it's not true now,” I admitted, perching on the battered office chair by her desk. “Just as I can fuel the growth of the child my vampire form is carrying, so too can I fuel the development of your child. She would be born a vampire, and I would have to keep aiding her development until she reaches adulthood. I can't start that process now, because I am going to need all the strength, I have for the battle that is coming. I don't want to rush her birth either, because if something goes wrong, if I end up on one of the more unlikely paths that lead to my death, an unsalvageable death, I don't want to leave a vampire baby behind, unable to grow, because that would be cruel. But after we've defeated Tiw, if we all come out the other side, then I can do that for you.”
“There's a risk you'll die?” she asked. “Does Conn... Woden... know?”
“He hears my thoughts as easily as I see what's in his heart. He knows, but he knows that is an unlikely course. There is always a chance we'll lose, but I've done all I can to give us the best chance of success,” I admitted. “But with that in mind, I can offer you another option, an option I can implement right away, right now, if you wish me to. Last night, I met a man who was turned against his will, who couldn't bring himself to bite, and was searching for the strength to either go against his own instincts and feed, or go against any sense of self-preservation and step into the sunlight, like I once did. I gave him a different option. I reversed what was done to him. I erased the vampire from him as easily as I would erase a virus or heal a would, and made him human once more. I could do that for you too. I could make you human again.”
Georgie sank slowly onto her bed, disbelief in her expression as she considered my offer. “You could do that? Truly?”
“I can, if you want me to,” I agreed. “I can undo what Ragnar did.”
Only a frown pinched Georgie's brow, and she bit her lip, studying her bedroom carpet as if it could tell her what to choose. When she spoke again, voicing her conflict, she sounded unsure, noting, “That would seem like such a simple solution, to recover what was taken. Only... I'm not that woman any more. I had no family and few friends. I lived a lonely existence, with only my child to live for. Here, despite how much it hurts every day, carrying a child I thought I'd never meet, I still see a family I want to be part of. I've seen love, and sacrifice, and I've seen people walk through hell and back for this family. It would seem like such a simple fix, to become human and have my child, but I would revert to being a single mother with no support network, struggling to get by, and I would lose what I've found here. So, I would choose the other option.
“I understand the risk you've tried to relate to me. I understand that there is a small chance that buy waiting, I might not get to meet my child at all. But if you made us human, mortal, weaker, then my child could still be taken from me in so many ways through our inherent fragility. I think I would rather put my faith in you, as queen of the gods, and as one of my Sire's. I trust you to bring us through this, then I trust you to give me my child, just as you are giving your husband his son. I would rather remain a vampire of the Newcastle Cohort, with a vampire daughter, than become human once more. But I would ask one favour.”
While not the answer I'd expected, I understood her reasoning. It had been a long time since I thought of the cohort as anything but a family I couldn't imagine being without.
“What would you ask of me?” I requested, studying her anxious expression.
“If my child decides she wishes she was human, will you grant her that? No matter what decision I make now, there will come a time when she may want to speak for herself,” Georgie explained, and I barely needed to think before nodding in agreement.
“I promise you, if she decides she wishes to live a mortal life, then I'll give her that,” I vowed.
“Then that's what I choose.” Decision made, Georgie smiled at me, a look of joy and gratitude that I'd never seen her wear before, as she added, “And thank you. Thank you for giving me what no one else could.”
“If it weren't for me, this never would've happened to you,” I pointed out. “Putting it right is the least I could do.”
“You didn't make Ragnar cruel. You did not create that monster. I don't blame you, and you shouldn't blame yourself either,” she retorted, with greater empathy that I expected.
“So people keep telling me...”
“Then maybe you should listen,” she chuckled. “If you deserved the blame you heap on yourself, you would not have a cohort that loves you so deeply, or a pack who would follow you as though you were one of them.”
“And on that note, I have the scars of another man's cruelty left to reverse, if I can do so,” I announced as I stood, turning towards the door. “And Georgie? No matter what your daughter chooses, or what you choose to do if she decides to re-join humanity, you will always be welcome here.”
“Thank you,” she said gratefully, before I escaped her room and headed down to the Security Office.
Leof was already there, along with Vili and Ve. The three brothers made the office look too small. Like Fréa and Fenn, they were all too large for the board room table and its chairs, and I realised we might need to use the dining room for out battle strategy meetings, or perhaps we could turn the dojo into our command centre, because I doubted the Security Office would take any more gods or giants. The thought was daunting, but I chuckled as Leof threw a ball of scrunched up paper at Ve's head, catching him square between the eyes, and earning a rippling burst of magic in retaliation, that threw his own notepad up into his face. Vili roled his eyes at his brother's antics, but I found myself standing in the doorway, watching, smiling, because they'd gotten back what I'd felt forced to strip from them, and that gave me some hope.
Turning towards me, Leof asked, “Are you alright, love?”
“Sure, I just wanted to let you know I'm going over to Alnford Hall, to see if I can persuade Fenn that he can be trusted with magic.” Heading towards my husband, I leaned down, kissing him with all the love I possessed. “I love you. If you need anything, call me, alright?”
He nodded, holding me close for second, and requesting, “I love you too, and do the same, alright? And be safe, Little Warrior.”
Chuckling, I promised, “I'm not intending to wage any wars or make any sacrifices tonight. I promise I'll be back well before dawn.”
“Will I get Lex and Fiona back into their wyrdæ forms while you’re out?” he asked. “And I can arrange for Ishbel to come for hers?”
Nodding, I agreed, “That would be a good idea, thank you.”
When I looked back at Vili and Ve, it was only to ask, “Are you too setting off soon?”
They both nodded too, and Vili promised, “We'll get you more allies.”
Smiling at his determination, I extracted myself from Leof's arms, and headed for the door again, finding it strange to be heading out of the house on my own, when I so rarely had the opportunity to do so. It would be nice, and at the same time, horribly unusual.
“You will be fine,” I murmured, as I snatched my helmet from my motorbike's seat and tugged it into place, then shoved my falcon feather cloak into a pannier.
Swinging myself astride my ride, I revved the engine, then turned towards the exit ramp and headed out into the night.
At least Osier was gone, and no longer capable of causing an accident. I felt sure some of his acolytes had the power to cause just as much mischief, but knowing the Warlock was gone still offered some comfort as I wound my way through the streets and headed north, towards the hall where Ábrođen was trying to piece his life back together.
Despite Leof's reassurances, I still worried about Fenn, because it would take a while for him to truly be alright. I wanted to kill Tiw, Viđarr, and Loki on his behalf, for destroying what I'd tried so hard to heal while living at his camp. They would pay, sooner or later. Tiw and Loki would both pay for the path they'd forced me to walk, and the path they'd forced me to place Fenn on. And Viđarr would pay for his decision to side with Tiw.
Thoughts of vengeance were still occupying my mind when I rolled onto Alnford's long, winding driveway, and made my way toward the house and the row of pack motorcycles parked on the loop in front of the steps up to the main building. I tagged onto the end of the line, and climbed down, leaving my helmet hanging from the handlebars as I retrieved my cloak.
“Fríge? Were we expecting you? Is everything alright?” Aethelwig asked as she joined me by my bike.
Smiling, I tried to look as though I didn’t have a care in the world, even though Leof's previous concerns had left a lingering anxiety over what I'd gone there to do. “No, you weren't. And yes, everything's fine. I just... Wanted to have a chat with Ábrođen. Is he about?”
The fact her face grew pensive didn't ease my concern, and she glanced towards the edge of the camp, where the singed and patched-up shape of Fenn's tipi had been erected, frowning as she answered, “He is, but yesterday was a bad day. He was alright while your husband was here, but during the day...” She shook her head. “I knew what to expect. I heard you scream with Woden's fear often enough. But I didn't want this for him. I didn't want those nightmares for him. I didn't want to hear him scream. And I didn't want to see the guilt in his eyes when cubs who used to run to him cower behind their parents, because they're too young to understand that their Chief didn't attack their camp by choice, but that Tiw wielded his body like a weapon.”
Looking at her feet, she admitted, “I know he'll be alright. I know it will just take time, just as it did for Woden. I know the pack needs to heal, like your cohort needed to heal that night at Requiem, when Conn lost awareness and almost attacked your head sentry. But it's hard, and I don't know how to help him or them.”
My regret at her admission brought with it a moment of clarity, which revealed what exhaustion gad hidden from me during the day. I realised what had caused my anxiety to mount, whose fear and whispered underneath my own, exacerbating it. I wished with all my heart I had some cure to offer Thel, some remedy she could give to Ábrođen. But there was no medicine for what ailed him. No medicine but time.
“You help by standing. By still being his second in command. By helping him to run the pack until he can see himself properly as their Chief once more,” I replied, taking the other woman’s hand and squeezing gently. “You help, by giving him time, by standing up for him when he is doubted, and when he doubts himself, while also hearing and standing up for your pack. And little by little, things will fall back into place. I promise. I know it doesn't always feel possible, but it's true. I know, because I've seen it happen, with Leof, with Will, with me, myself. Fenn will survive this, and so will the pack.”
Unexpectedly, Aethelwig tugged me into a tight hug, and I heard her sniffing against my shoulder as she admitted, “When he first said he'd given you the co-ordinates to our camp, I thought he'd lost his mind. When I saw how close you were getting, I was more afraid than when I thought he'd as good as handed our address to someone who wanted to see us burn. I never said anything, because it wasn't my place, and because even I could see that you made him better too, because he would've done anything to prove to you that he could be more than what Tiw had made him. And now, when all is said and done? I miss having you around. I miss knowing you're there, having his back, and helping him to see that being Fenrir is more than his curse. I miss having you paint caravans, and hunt, and chase cubs, and be as much a part of the pack as any of us. I miss feeling like I'm not alone, trying to hold everything together, even though I have a mate I adore, a Chief I love, and a pack that will always be my family.”
Her rambling tirade came to a hiccoughing end, and all I could do was hold her, because I knew how it felt to be trying to hold everything together, while not quite sure how to do so.
“I miss being around too. I adore my cohort and never want to leave it, but I miss the pack too, because you became my family too,” I admitted. “The one place that no longer feels like home, is the one place I have to fight to reconquer. I'm sorry for everything that's happened, Thel. I'm sorry that your pack is involved. I wish I could make everything right.”
Swiping at her teary eyes with her palms, Aethelwig forced a watery smile. “You don't need to be sorry. I enjoy seeing your guilt as much as I enjoy seeing Fenn's. You didn't create Tiw. Tiw forced your hand, and you have nothing to be sorry for. Me, on the other hand, I'm really sorry for breaking down on you. I swear I'm not usually a weepy female.”
“I know that,” I promised. “But you've had a lot put on your shoulders. I don't mind. Honestly, rather than letting it build up, if you ever been to talk or rant, you can just call me, you know.”
“Thank you,” Thel offered, then laughed, adding, “I'm sure the hormones don't help. You know, Cáf and I were trying for cubs the whole time you were living with us, to no avail. Then as soon as everything went absolutely tits up, wham, pregnancy induced emotional rollercoaster.”
A grin broke across my face, and I tugged Thel into another hug. “Fenn said he thought you were trying. Congratulations! I'm so pleased for you and Cáfgar! Your cub can grow up with our children as well!”
“As well?” Thel requested. “How many more pregnant vampires are there in your cohort? You opening the first ever vampire maternity hospital?”
“Well, there's Georgie, but she's not who I meant,” I replied, hesitating, and thinking about the demi-goddess currently staying under our roof and trying not to scowl. “But that is not my story to share. It'll all be revealed in time. I promise.”
“Curiouser and curiouser,” Thel observed. “As a goddess, did you always speak in riddles?”
A burst of laughter escaped me and I shrugged slightly. “It depended who was listening, but in this case, it simply isn't my prophecy to tell, except to say that I already wrote it into the mythology I gave to earth. Only now I sound even more cryptic.”
Thel laughed too, some of her tension easing as she began walking towards Fenn's tipi. “Come on, Mystic Meg, maybe you can give the Chief some riddles to occupy his mind.”
When we reached the closed door of Fenn's tipi, Thel called his name. When no answer was forthcoming, she frowned and pushed her way inside, and deciding there was nothing else for it, I followed. And what I discovered within seemed every bit as heart-breaking as the ghastly charcoal drawings that still decorated the wall of the Sire's suite. Ábrođen sat in the centre of chaos, his eyes downcast in a way that said he hadn't wanted anyone to witness his outpouring of pain. Around him, the smashed remnants of his guitars lay mangled next to cracked and broken panpipes and a bodhran that had come off worse against Fenn's fists. Drying blood smeared Ábrođen's bruised knuckles, and I felt tears burn my eyes at the sight of him among the debris.
“Why?” Thel asked before she could swallow down the question.
“Because he doesn't think he'll ever truly enjoy music again,” I answered, guessing the truth, and saw Fenn flinch when he realised that I was there too. He curled up on himself even more, ashamed, even as I murmured, “Or maybe because he doesn't think he deserves to enjoy it.”
Picking my way through the wood, strings, and vellum that littered the floor, I went to Fenn, sinking onto my knees before him, my magic reaching out to coil around each splintered fragment, broken string, and the torn drum skin. As I'd practised so many times before, I let my energy explore the cellular structure of each bit of debris, then reconstructed Ábrođen's instruments one by one, a series of complex jigsaw puzzles, put together so skilfully that it seemed the damage had never occurred in the first place. Then I picked up his favourite guitar, and pressed in into his arms.
“I know it doesn't feel like it now, but I promise that you will find joy in the things you used to love, and you deserve to enjoy them. You will find peace amongst familiar things, and what seems dark and all-consuming now, will gradually leave a little less of a stain on your soul, until one day you realise that what happened to you no longer has any control over you. I know this for a fact, Ábrođen. So, I'm asking you to trust me.”
When Fenn finally lifted his emerald eyes to look at me, he admitted, “Some moments I can. Some moments, I remember what you said when you brought me home, that I have to trust you, and that I can be alright. But other times...” He shook his head, looking away again as he murmured, “Other times, it's hard to believe. I dreamt I was back there, and when I woke up, I was neither man, nor wolf, but a bit of both, and that hurts so much. Even cubs don't find themselves so... mangled. I'm defective. I'm broken.”
Cupping his cheeks, I forced him to look at me as I promised, “You're not defective. You're not broken. You're a little battered, and worse for wear, yes, but not in any way than can't heal. I mean, if we want defective, you're talking to the woman who carried her unborn child for a millennium, unaware she could've given him life. You talking to the woman whose own empathic ability has led to her curling up on the floor with her hands over her ears, on more than one occasion. Hel, I had to use my dead husband's echo to shield my mind, because I have never managed to be anything other than overwhelmed by my own gifts. If we are defective because our supernatural gifts sometimes glitch, then Leof and I are defective too. As is every vampire who doesn't like biting, or who accidentally trips over something in the dark. So is every wolf who fails to catch their prey during a hunt. Sometimes shit happens, Ábrođen, but that doesn't mean you are anything less than you were.
“Can you remember what Leof said, when you first got back? That some days your nightmares would feel more real than reality. That's what this is, Fenn. Your mind and body are treating your nightmares as if they are a continuation of what happened to you. But it's not true. You aren't there. You aren't broken or defeated. And day by day, you will get past this.”
He fell silent, but not because he believed me. I suspected he just didn't have the energy to fight me, and when he stood, replacing his guitar on its stand, and flopped face down on his bed, I guessed he was telling me to fuck off. There were days, back when Conn first evicted me from Milbank, that I'd done much the same thing. But Ábrođen had never taken the hint, and I didn't intend to either.
Nodding to Thel, I silently let her know we'd be ok. She could look after the pack, and I would try to put her Chief back together again, as he had done for me, so many times. Going to his bed, a place I had intended to actively avoid, I sent a silent plea for understanding to Leof, then perched beside my dejected wolf.
“Go away,” he mumbled.
“No,” I answered, stubborn. “I'm returning a favour.”
He was silent for a moment, then stated, “I'm sorry I got you out of that coma. And I'm sorry for saying you couldn't just sit around listening to Sinead O'Connor sing about how nothing compares. I'm sorry for trying to force you to function. Now can you please just leave me to wallow, here. It's soul-destroying enough without you witnessing it.”
“You are not sorry for any of those things, Ábrođen, and while I'm guessing it's not how you meant it, telling me that you feel you should've left me in a coma is just shy of Conn telling me that I should've stayed dead...”
I felt his emotional flinch at that, and he tensed, even as he insisted, “That isn't how I meant it. I just...don't want you seeing me like this.”
“I know. Just like I didn't want anyone to see the mess I was after Osier's potion, or after pulling Leof back, or after Leof and Tanya, or after Elsie got in my head and handed me to Osgar on a slab, quite literally,” I admitted. “I know you don't want me to see. The problem is, that whether I'm here or not, I still see everything that is and everything that will be. And it doesn't change how I see you, Ábrođen. You are still my strong, brave, caring, reprobate, and no matter what you see in yourself, I still love you. That's true, despite everything that has been done to you, because of it even, because it's a testament to who you are that you're even here, arguing with me, rather than rocking back and forth in a corner somewhere.”
“I can do that,” he muttered.
“I have done it,” I retorted. “Many, many times. I've tried to slip into madness. I've tried to curl up and block out the world. But that isn't me. And it isn't you either.”
Reaching tentatively out, I brushed my fingers through his tousled black hair, hoping to offer some measure of comfort. He didn't react, and I suspected he still hoped I'd get bored and leave him alone. But I wasn't willing to do that, and even when my phone buzzed, telling me I had a message, I didn't stop stroking Ábrođen's hair. It wasn't like I didn't know what message Leof had sent me, even without reading it for myself; the simple ‘it's ok, love', granted me the freedom to lie down next to Fenn, curling my body around his, and just holding him as he gradually resigned himself to my intervention. He finally turned towards me, and although he didn't speak, his arms slid around my waist, needing to feel close to someone when he no longer knew how to be close to his pack, or even to who he'd been.
“I shouldn't need this,” he said at last. “I can't expect this. It wouldn't be fair on your husband for me to rely on you.”
“He understands more than you're giving him credit for, Ábrođen,” I answered, hoping he believed me. “How many times did someone say that Leof's unwillingness to rely on me was a mistake, because I was the one person who could help? I’m not the only person who can help you, but I am a person who can help, and he understands that more now than he did when he was the one needing to be pieced back together. I'm here, and we're ok. Leof is ok. And eventually, you'll realise that he's here for you too.
“I know why you might want to avoid going to him with how you're feeling, because you still blame yourself for what was done to him, but he doesn't see you as his murderer, Fenn. Not anymore. He sees you as a friend, who has shared some of what he experienced, and he is more than willing to help you too. If you want to visit Milbank and go around in the dojo with him to let off steam, he'll do that. If you wake from a nightmare, not sure what's real, you can phone him and he'll listen, because he gets it, and he has the clarity of someone who's been through that rough transition but came out the other side. And when you're struggling to feel safe, or to see yourself and worthy, then I am happy to be your shelter, or to remind you what I see in you, which is so much more than Tiw ever allowed you to believe.”
“I don't deserve how you see me. I don't deserve his forgiveness,” Ábrođen mumbled, closing his eyes. “In truth... I don't deserve to be here, home, alive. I deserve Valhalla.”
Tears blurred my vision, and I tried to blink them away as my heart broke for the man in my arms. “That's not true, Ábrođen. It's no truer than when Leof felt he wasn't good enough for me. It's no truer than the many times I've felt I deserved my pain for the mistakes I've made. You don't deserve Valhalla. No one does.
“As for my opinion of you, you didn't always have that, wolf. But you earned it. You earned it when you let me see who you truly are. And you don't get to decide whether my opinion is deserved or not, because it's my esteem to bestow or not. Leof's forgiveness is the same. Only he gets to decide whether or not to grant that, and he grants it, because he understands exactly where you're coming from, and exactly why you've done the things you've done, and he respects that.
“None of us are perfect. We've all killed, and lost, and made mistakes, and had everything we are chipped away at. But the chips aren't a testament to our failures, love. They are a testament to resilience, and to a difficult journey undertaken for those who rely on us.
“Not so long ago, I saw you stand at Yggdrasil, beside us, and for the first time in your life, you didn't balk at the name ‘Fenrir'. I saw a divine wolf, the great-wolf, with runes glinting in his fur and so much strength, so much potential, so much more than the role Tiw and Loki would force on you. In that moment, you were so nearly everything I knew you could be. You can get that back. Just as Conn learned to be Woden once more. You earned your place beside us, as a leader, as a warrior, as a god. I wish I could make you see what I see, but the only way you'll see is if you trust me enough to keep going, keep trying, and one day, without even knowing how it happened, you'll look at yourself and realise that who you are is OK, better than OK, and you'll be content in your own skin again.”
Fenn's palm cupped my cheek, his thumb stroking over my cheekbone as he studied me. “How does anyone ever justify seeking to subdue you? You are so much more than this or any world deserves.”
I laughed at that, and wanted to argue, but as I was demanding that he trust me, I could hardly declare myself unwilling to trust him, so I ignored my need to refute his claim. Instead, I rested my head on his chest, inhaling the pine and forest scent of him, and for a time, we just lay like that, side by side, as comfortable with each other as we had been when we were together. Leof was my home, my safe place, where I belonged. He always would be. But Ábrođen was my... home away from home... And the part of me that remained his felt content to lie there.
“I love you, Ábrođen,” I murmured, even as my mind screamed a promise to Leof, that he was the only husband I wanted, and the only man I'd willingly allow to have me.
“I love you too, Wiđercorra,” Fenn promised in response, even as the echo of Leof's love for me flared in my heart.
I knew that would always be the case, for both me and Fenn. Even years down the line, if we won the war, when we both had spouses to adore above all else, and when we both had families, and lives that had finally found some degree of peace, even then, part of me would belong to Fenn, and part of him would belong to me. We would all live with that, because there was nothing to be done about it, and because, for a time, Abrođen and I needed to be the ones holding each other together.
When he finally spoke again, he asked, “Did you want something, by the way? Or did you just come to check up on me?”
Sighting, I admitted, “I need to ask a favour, but you aren't going to like it.”
“That sounds ominous,” he noted, frowning at me, his brow creased in concern and his green eyes serious.
“What I'll point out, is that Leof didn't agree when I asked this of him either, but I was right to ask, and he needed to allow it, and you need to trust me too...” I murmured, and I felt Ábrođen tense, guessing where my request was heading.
“I don't want it; that much power. I can't even control my body shifting from man to wolf anymore. Please don't ask me to wield that much magic,” he pleaded, his horror at the idea clear in his wide eyes and the rough edge to his voice.
Meshing my fingers with his, I promised, “But you were always meant to wield it, Abrođen. It is part of you. Yes, it's part you've been denied access too, just as I was as Dunthryth, but it's still part of you. You will control it, because it's yours to control.”
“But I used it to kill members of my pack,” he breathed, his guilt winding into me. “There are cubs who already cower from me. There are people who look at me, and see what I did to their families. If I have that magic, they're going to be even more aware of the monster in me.”
“There's no monster in you,” I promised, frowning. “And Ábrođen, you can't regain their trust and confidence if you don't trust and have confidence in yourself. If you are afraid of what you could do, they will fear it too. You need to show them that you can be everything you're meant to be, and that it will help you defend them. I know it's not an easy thing to do, to face the pack as someone who...” I winced, looking away. “As someone who rained fire and brimstone down on them. But your pack are good people, and they are willing to move past their fear. They did for a vampire they had no reason to trust, who took her anger out on them because she was carrying too much grief to bear. They will do it for a Chief they love too, a Chief who didn't hurt them through choice, or in a blind rage, but who was used, forced, by the real villain. Tiw did this, not you, and your people accept that.”
Looking back at him, I added, “Can you remember when I threatened to challenge Conn for control of the cohort? I didn't do that because I wanted to. I did it, because I needed him to step up and lead. I needed him to say he could be what he once was, even if he didn't believe it, because saying it was the first step towards believing it. I needed him to play a role, to stand before his cohort and lead them as the Sire he always had been, and to defend them with every gift he had access too, including his magic. By standing, by fulfilling that role, like an actor playing a part, he rediscovered that he was more than an actor playing a part. He rediscovered who he truly is. And you know what? A cohort that had started to doubt him regained their faith in him. The rift healed.
“Now I need you to do the same. I need you to play this part, to pretend to be the great-wolf, even if you don't believe it, until you learn how to be him again. And when your people see you doing what needs to be done, using the inherent strength inside you to fight for them, they will have your back. They will follow your lead. And they won't fear you anymore.”
“How can you know that?” he asked, the force of his own denial blinding him to my own gifts. But in truth, it wasn't my sight that made me so sure.
“Do you think I don't understand what you just said, that some of your pack look at you and see only what Tiw forced you to do to their families?” I asked. “After Leof died, that first time we met up to form an alliance and I just couldn't go through with it... All I could see then was my husband's killer. I've been where some of your pack now are. Then I learned the truth of who you are, and your pack can rediscover that as well. But only if you let them see.
“You took a leap of faith letting me in. I took a leap of faith in coming to your pack with an open mind rather than with the hate I'd let rule me before. You need to take another leap of faith now, and trust your people to do the same. Then you can all begin to heal.
“Please,” I begged, a little desperately. “Accept the gifts you've been given, because then you will be strong enough to defend yourself and your pack, because you have a responsibility to be at your strongest, for those people, to make sure they are shielded from further suffering.”
Scrutinising me, his brows pinched, Ábrođen noted, “To often, you only had responsibility to keep you moving forward. But I don't know if I'm strong enough.”
“I never knew either, but what other option was there?” I requested, my tone gentle. “If you don't have magic, and your people are attacked again by Loki, Tiw, Viđarr, or Berith, or the remnants of the Bloodied Hand, if you fail to defend the pack because you refused to accept a part of yourself that would give you skills and weapons comparable to those wielded by you enemies, will you honestly be able to accept it? Will you be able to hold your head up and say that refusing your magic was still the best option? Are you really willing to risk not having the weapons at your disposal that might help save your people?”
“But what if I lash out unintentionally?” he breathed. “If I can't even control wolfing, how do you know no one with interrupt a nightmare and come off worse against my magic?”
“I know, because you would never hurt one of your people without being forced. I know, because I trust you completely. And you can control wolfing; I saw you do it, the day we brought you back,” I insisted, then fell silent as I let him digest both my reasoning and my request.
When he wilted, I hated the defeat in his expression, and yet I felt relieved too, because it meant he'd let me do as I wished, despite his uncertainty and fear. He would agree, just as Leof had once done.
After what seemed like an age, Fenn finally nodded. “Alright, Wiđercorra. Alright; unbind it.”
I squeezed his hands, my fingers meshing with his as my own power flared, reaching for him, even as swirling patterns glittered over my hands. The moment it seeped into him, Fenn inhaled sharply, green eyes flaring to gold in an instinctive reaction that made me hyper-aware of the fact we were still lying side by side, bodies touching, and I realised I should've sat up, put distance between us first, especially when Ábrođen's gaze slid to my lips. His body reacted to me as automatically as mine had often reacted to him, and I felt grateful for the protection offered by the layers of leather and denim that lay between us.
Ignoring the current of desire that I couldn’t answer, I tried instead to focus on locating the block I'd placed when we first pulled Fenn from Valhalla. Erasing my enchantment took no time at all, but as the last loop of wriggling magic peeled away from the spark in Fenn's heart, his own magic flared, unbidden, flowing through him with heat, and a primal wildness that came from his wolf side. It pushed back against my own invading essence, then tangled with it, the thrum of Ábrođen's life force merging with mine in a way only Woden's had ever done before. It wasn't intentional. Leof had never managed to contain the power of his magic bursting free, and neither could Fenn. Raw instinct had his soul reach for mine, while sparks twirled around us, a rain of glittering lights which extinguished as quickly as they appeared.
Swirling patterns wound up Ábrođen's arms too, from fingertips to biceps, and the names we'd given Fenrir in our legends glowed brightly, emblazoned amongst the shimmering knot work; Fenrisúlfr, Vánagandr, Hróđvitnir, and Wearg. His eyes shone too, a true molten gold, and I had to admit, he was breath-taking. He'd said once that he called to me, because there was something of Ésageard in him, and right then, that had never been truer. But I couldn't answer that call. Not ever.
Closing my own eyes, I tried to reel in my awareness of Ábrođen, shutting off the flow of my own magic in the hope that I could defuse some of the tingling heat that was threatening to draw a moan from me.
“Come run with me?” I asked, needing to get away from the bed, but wanting to be close enough to ensure Abrođen was alright.
He nodded, pulling away from me and sitting up, both of us ignoring how much that separation hurt, because we couldn't do anything else. Then I slid from the bed, and went to retrieve my feather cloak from where I'd dropped while fixing Fenn's instruments.
“Wulf,” I commanded as I swung it around my shoulders. Leof's magic coiled around me in response, rearranging my body into the shape of a russet-furred wolf, and I comforted myself with the understanding that my husband knew my loyalty lay with him. It always would. And one day, Fenn's heart would belong to someone else as well.
Once I shifted, Ábrođen morphed into his grey and black wolf, with his familiar bandit mask and strong lupine body, and the transition seemed effortless. Then, when he came towards me, rubbing his head under mine, I knew that we'd always have this as well; a bond that could never be erased, and that was OK too.
