1. Fenris took small steps, keeping close to his brother and sister. He was the oldest and he knew that Mother would expect him to look out for the others. It seemed as though they walked a mile before they were in front of the high seat where their father stood next to the one-eyed king.
The children stopped short as the king rose, but their fear faded a little when he smiled at them and put his arm over their father's shoulders. "Those are fine children you have my brother. I see your young wife has much to look forward to."
2. The brothers had spent most of the day outside, squeezing all the daylight they could out of the Jotunheim autumn. When they spotted the thralls bringing dinner dishes from the kitchen building to the main hall they ran up the walk to loiter near the door until Mother called them in. She was weaning their little sister and didn't want little boys underfoot as well.
They could hear the toddler's insistent whining and Father's voice, too quite to make out the words. "Well," Mother replied, he voice sharp with reigned-in pride and anger, "if you want my advice, you shouldn't go traveling. Your blood brother has proven himself false to others, how much will he let an oath govern him if he sees the advantage in breaking it?"
"You don't know him well enough to say that." Father spoke with little conviction despite the truth in his words.
"I know you told me you see yourself in him." Mother's response was so quiet that Fenris barely heard it, and he didn't tell Jori what he'd heard.
Fenris never caught Mother and Father arguing about it again, but Father spent that winter at home instead of traveling south. By spring both boys were showing a bit of his talent at shape shifting and Mother told them there was another sister on the way. They had a new main hall built so the girls could have their own room and Father never went traveling again.
3. It took a long time to draw up the marriage contract; his family's fame worked both for him and against him. But his mother spoke well on his behalf and finally an agreement was reached.
His mother traveled with him to the bride's home in Utgard, and his sister met them on the way, along with his foster father.
Fenris smiled and embraced the older man. "Tyr! I'm surprised to see you this far north."
"I have my own kin in Utgard too. It will be good to renew those ties while I celebrate the wedding of one of my favorite young men." He smiled, but his eyes held something of the calculating expression he would use on hnefatafl opponents. Grey almost asked what was troubling him, but he had a marriage to look forward to and put it off for another time.
4. His sons were eating meat and stalking mice on their own, soon it would be time for the pack to start moving again. Before the herds started migrating he took a few days to visit his foster father and tell him about the cubs.
While he was there the warriors among the people who fostered him recalled his childhood and remarked on how he had grown. They showed him a chain of iron and wagered he could not break it, big as he was. He laughed and let them bind him, then snapped the chain as if it were the first yarn spun by a small girl.
But surely, they said, he couldn't do the same with a steel chain. He laughed at them again, and the steel chain was broken as easily as the iron one.
Well, they said, since he has made such sort work of the iron and steel chains, surely he wouldn't mind testing his might against a little gold cord, would he? This cord was as fine and supple, and though it shone yellow like honey wine it did not smell like gold. It smelled like dwarves and their homes under the bones of mountains. Fenris knew it must be a trick.
"I snapped your iron, I snapped your steel. I will not waste my time with your 'gold'." They called him a coward and mocked him for fearing a golden ribbon, but he refused to hear them and returned to his mate and his sons.
5. She stood alone before him, her pride keeping her upright on trembling legs. She smelled of blood, of exhaustion and fear. It had been most of a year since he had seen her, which hadn't surprised him. The small, gray fluffball in her arms was a surprise, however.
"Take her. Take her and run. If my husband returns from his latest journey in time to notice anything I'll tell him I had a child and it died."
Her white hands worked at the cord that bound him as she spoke. It and her long hair both gleamed in the starlight. The loosening knot was it's own argument.
She set the cub on the ground and stepped away. "My women will tell him nothing. They are loyal to me." Her voice was steady and her eyes were shadowed. If she was crying the scent of her tears would be lost in the stronger scents of blood and sweat.
She turned and walked away, as noble as he had ever seen her, and she did not look back.
The fluffball moved in its little blanket as she shook off his former bindings and scrabbled with his paws to draw out the blade that held his muzzle open. He spat blood and nosed at the cub. Its soft gray fur reminded him of his sons. It had been washed hurriedly and still smelled like its mother, like Aesir blood.
He growled softly. He couldn't feed it. Without their mothers cubs died. He closed his jaws around the tiny neck, then swallowed quickly. The ravens would not find Sif's secret, and what she told her husband would not be a lie.
Author's Note: #5 is an alternate follow-up to "Brighter and More Baneful Than Any Golden Ring"... which is actually the backstory to a tabletop rpg character I used to play- the daughter of Fenris.
