“But the gods saw how the wolf grew every day and knew that the prophecies foretold that it was destined to harm them.
Then the Aesir designed a plan...”
—Gylfaginning
“Are you sure?” We were moving as fast as we could without running, trying not to draw any attention as we made our way around to the backside of Asgard, toward the harbour.
“Positive. They told me the training wasn’t working.” Váli pointed to one of the einherjar’s ships in the distance. “They’re going to chain Fenrir up for good.”
I stopped him in his tracks, and Narvi nearly ran us over trying to keep up. “Have you seen your father?”
Váli shook his head. “Nowhere. He never leaves the house as himself now. He could be anyone, and we can’t wait.”
“What did Fenrir do?” Narvi leaned in, voice low.
“Nothing. But I told you, he’s been getting big. Real big. Loki wasn’t joking when he said there’s seidr in him. He talks. He’s stronger than any of the men. They started testing him, tying him up to see how strong he was. Nothing could hold him, and Odin doesn’t like it, not one bit. They went to the dwarves this time and commissioned something unbreakable.”
My eyes darted around, trying to think. It was just us three against an army without even Loki’s brute force to help. “Can you get us on board?”
“Come on.” Váli led us forward, toward a ship brimming with battle-ready einherjar. And next to the ship was Fenrir.
“Ymir’s breath, Váli.”
“I know.”
Fenrir was as big as a small house. Even sitting, he towered over the soldiers moving around him. Someone commanded him into the water, and he plodded in, paddling around next to the boats.
“Is he a threat?” I whispered as we approached the dock.
“Speak to him. You’ll see.” Váli led us onto the ship as they were packing on supplies; crates of bows, swords and spears were jammed between the seats of rowers. They were readying for war.
A woman stepped in front of us, blocking our way with her spear.
“They can’t be here.” She pointed to Narvi and I.
Váli grabbed the spear from her hand and threw it overboard. “Do I look like I’m negotiating with you? Sit down and remember your rank.”
She hesitated, scowling at him. And then she sat.
There were another fifty warriors on board. On either side were another two ships, loaded with more einherjar. My gut curdled.
Váli led us to the side of the ship, leaning out over the water. Below, Fenrir paddled happily in the harbour, tongue hanging from between his teeth.
Váli called down to him. “Brother! Why are you down there?”
Fenrir looked up and caught sight of Váli. His tail started to wag, splashing water everywhere.
“I’m too big for ships now!” His voice was gruff, but he spoke like a child. Then he stood and put his front paws on the side of the wood. The entire boat swayed under the extra weight. His head still came up over the side, face to face with us. “Hello, Not Mother. Hello, Narvi.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Hello Not Son. Your father sends his love.”
Fenrir whimpered. “I miss him. He came three days ago as a mouse, but I don’t speak mouse. Tell him to come again.”
Váli stroked Fenrir on the nose. “I will; I promise.”
That made him happy, and he began to pant, the hot breath all-encompassing. I blinked, trying not to be repelled by the smell of whatever he’d eaten for breakfast. “Darling, I need you to listen closely.” I stepped up, as near to his ear as I could. It perked up as I whispered. “You should run. These people want to hurt you. We can distract them. Wherever you go, your father can find you, and you’ll be safe.”
The response didn’t come right away. His ears twitched, and his nose snuffed, and finally he laughed. “You’re funny, Not Mother. They can’t hurt me. No one can. I’m stronger than everyone.”
A horn sounded, and the paddles lowered into the water, making ready to set out. Fenrir hopped down from the ship’s side, and it righted itself. With a bark and a paddle, the wolf was out in front, swimming his way towards the edge of the harbour ahead of the ships.
“What do we do now?” Narvi whispered.
Váli pushed the hair back from his face. “Nothing.” He glanced behind himself at the small army on board with us. “We’ll have to wait until we land.”
◦ ● ◦
The ship pulled up to a small dock on the island of Amsvartnir about an hour after we’d set sail. The three of us disembarked and followed the band of einherjar into the centre of the island. As we drew closer to where the others had gathered, I spotted warriors from other armies. Dozens had come from Sessrúmnir wearing Freya’s colours. At least an entire Wing of Valkyrie stood at the ready. And in the centre of it all was Fenrir, tail wagging and oblivious.
The three of us pushed our way towards the wolf. At the front of the crowd was Tyr and his most trusted warriors. Váli was no oddity there, but Tyr noticed Narvi and I. He nodded our way, expecting an answer.
Váli leaned in, keeping his voice low. “There’s no one in these realms who deserves justice more than my family. They should be here to see it carried out.”
It was frightening how believable he sounded. A little bit too much like his father.
Tyr nodded again, giving his stoic approval. When the last of the armies had gathered and settled, he stepped forward.
Fenrir bowed down, his tail wagging as if he were winding up to spring into the air. “Are we going to play again?”
“Yes.” Tyr bent to open a sack at his feet. “We have another test for you. If you’re really the strongest in the realms, you’ll be able to break this fetter. None of us can break it, but surely you can.” He pulled a long cloth from the sack, as light and airy as Vanir gossamer. Tyr held it up for the wolf to see.
Fenrir’s laugh was dark, judgmental. It seemed to echo off every surrounding surface, a howl that seeped under my skin and chilled me to my bones. And I knew. This was how it began. One small thing, and then another, and another. The strength, the laugh, the size of him. How each abnormality looked like malice until everyone around him was harbouring an uncontrollable fear of something they couldn’t understand.
“You’re joking! The last ones were steel.” The toothy smile began to fade. Slowly, Fenrir sat on his haunches, watching Tyr with narrow eyes. He leaned forward, smelling the dainty ribbon, inspecting it. “Why would you bring me cloth?”
“Watch,” Tyr said, tugging at the ribbon with all his strength. “You see that I can’t break it, and neither can any other man here.” He passed it to Váli, who pulled and ripped at it but couldn’t tear it either. He passed it to another and another until Tyr felt he’d made his point. “We can’t break it, but surely the strongest wolf in Asgard can.” He held out the cloth for Fenrir to sniff again. “What do you say?”
In that moment, Fenrir looked at me. I tried to convey my fear without giving myself away. I didn’t even dare to shake my head. And then the wolf turned back to the cloth. He sniffed it, and then each of the einherjar close enough to him. The mirth was gone. “You smell like you’re afraid. If you’re not lying, prove it. I’ll let you tie me if one of you will put your hand in my mouth. If you’re not afraid, if you’re not lying, I won’t hurt you.”
Silence fell over the crowd. No one stepped forward.
My eyes went to Váli. His fingers twitched and stretched, his body rigid. We were running out of time, but what could we do against three small armies? Even if Loki were here, it wouldn’t give us an edge against them.
“I agree to your terms,” Tyr said, stepping forward. He reached out with his sword hand. Fenrir knelt down and opened his mouth only a sliver, enough to let Tyr slip his hand between his enormous teeth.
Váli turned to look at me, panic in his eyes. I tried to think. Was there a ward or a disenchantment that might help? I could set something on fire and give Fenrir time to run, but my boys would take the fall with me. I couldn’t risk their lives, not for anyone.
The einherjar moved around us, taking the ribbon in hand. There was no time. I whispered, hoping a general disenchantment would break the binding from afar, but nothing happened. How much seidr had to be in that fetter to hold a giant wolf?
The einherjar wrapped the ribbon around Fenrir’s legs. They tied his front paws together first, then the back, all four kept close by a tether in between. When they’d finished their work, I still had no answer. Each disenchantment I’d tried had failed.
The crowd moved back, waiting for the wolf to attempt breaking free. Váli grabbed my hand and squeezed so tightly that the blood stopped flowing to my fingers. He kept his face as cold and unfeeling as stone.
Fenrir tugged at the fetter, calmly pulling his back leg away from his body as if he expected it to break like a blade of grass. The cloth didn’t budge. His eyes narrowed, and he tugged harder. Nothing. He began to thrash and tear, but it did no good. The fetter hadn’t so much as popped a thread.
Huffing and panting, Fenrir stopped and stared into Tyr’s eyes, his hand still between his teeth. The wolf clamped his mouth shut.
Tyr fell back, blood gushing from the stump of his arm. He writhed on the ground, clawing at his arm but refusing to scream. Fenrir threw his head back and swallowed the hand with a slick, sickening gulp.
Tyr’s men pulled him back, out of the reach of the wolf, who had started howling long, mournful notes.
“Finish it!” Tyr commanded.
The three factions of warriors leapt into action, swarming the wolf. The Valkyrie took to the air, their swan wings springing forth from their backs. They flew above Fenrir, dodging around him as he snapped and lunged at them. Beneath, the other armies secured the wolf’s fetter to a boulder, just one more thing to keep him in place. And Fenrir couldn’t fight them all off.
A pair of Völur had already started to heal Tyr. There would be no bringing the hand back, but they would stem the bleeding, and he would live.
“Mother, please.” Narvi pulled on my arm. “We have to help him.”
“How?” I asked. And it was a true question. Trapped between all these weapons and warriors, I’d never felt so helpless.
A deep, anguished growl rose up. The job was finished. Fenrir couldn’t move, not an inch. The more he struggled, the tighter it seemed to become.
“Brothers!” he cried. “Brothers, let me go. We have the same blood. Don’t let them do this. Not Mother, Sigyn, please. Where is father? Father! Help me!” Fenrir begged, pressing his face into the dirt, his legs straining against the ties.
I bit into my lip, tears flooding my vision, trying to keep my mouth shut. It was the worst, most horrific choice. Us or him. But I would not lose my flesh and blood to save anyone.
Tyr was back on his feet, still holding the stump of his arm. “Get the blade. Do it right, no mistakes.”
A pair of einherjar swept forward, one with an enormous, shimmering longsword in her hands. When Fenrir saw her coming, his despair turned to a snarl. “I’ll kill you, I swear it. Bite your head off! Don’t touch me. I’ll kill you, I will!”
But she didn’t care. She swung at Fenrir and when he opened his mouth to snap at her, she jammed the blade between his jaws, the tip of it digging into the roof of his mouth. The wolf’s eyes went wide, not daring to move a muscle. And she wedged the pommel into the flesh of his tongue until it was stuck in place, keeping his mouth wide open. As soon as she let it go, the blade shimmered, and a pop reverberated through the air. It was some kind of seidr, though I couldn’t tell what.
Left with only the chance to whimper, Fenrir slumped onto the ground, saliva dripping from between his teeth.
It was over. The warriors of all factions were talking amongst themselves. A cry went out, and the Valkyrie took wing, soaring back toward Asgard, a shining green flashing across the sky behind them. The rest started their way back to the ships. We didn’t have much time.
I hurried to Fenrir, staying where he could see me. I rested a hand gently on his jaw, and he whimpered. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how to free you, but we’ll find a way. We’ll get your father and get you out. I promise.”
Narvi tucked his face into the wolf’s fur, tears streaming down his face. “It’s not your fault. You trusted them.”
I looked back. Our affection was attracting attention. We needed to go before we were left to die on the island. “I’m sorry boys, but it’s time.” I looked up into Fenrir’s enormous, tear-filled eyes. “He’s coming for you.”
We left him there, curled up in a ball, alone. Walking away cut a hole in me. I wanted to have saved him, wanted to have done the right thing. And in the end, I didn’t. He’d ended up in shackles.
Was that going to be our family’s legacy?
When the ships docked at the city, a messenger was waiting. He’d been sent to fetch Tyr and bring him to Gladsheim. Hermod had returned from Helheim. There would be news of Baldur—and of Hel.