This is a work of speculative fanfiction. No profit was made nor intended to be made. All rights to Twilight and it's subsequent sequels belong to Stephanie Meyer and Little Brown Publishing company. I make no claim of ownership to these rights or any intellectual property of Ms. Meyers.

AN: Imprinting is something that is often looked at in the Twilight fandom as a romantic fixture. Something mythic and fairytale perfect. I have a far different opinion about it and decided to write about the ways that it can go wrong and what would have to be done to make it right. I hope you enjoy this.

Fate's Middle Finger: Shrapnel

Prologue

Marit was sitting at her table the day it all went so wrong. She was helping her two children make bird feeders for the cardinals that flew through the village in summertime. Ingrid and Magnus were convinced that the birds would love the seeds so much that they would want to stay and then they would be their pets. She was in the middle of explaining to them that birds needed to fly and that it was cruel to keep them in cages, when her husband and mate walked into the kitchen. One look in his eyes told her that her life was about to change and she almost begged him not to speak to her. If he did not speak than nothing could change. It was a child's type of wish, like hiding behind one's hands because you don't want to see what's in front of you. It doesn't make it go away.

Gunnar looked at her with a coldness that he had never directed her way before. Then he reached out to the torque around her neck and calmly took it off. That torque was her rank, her place in the pack. It was the visual symbol that she was the Jarl's mate, the bolverk, the alpha's left hand. As important to the pack at the beta. She had worn it ever since they had married ten years ago. He tucked it into his belt and stood stiffly, letting his eyes rove over the tops of his childrens' heads, before settling back on his wife.

"I have found the one I am supposed to be with and can no longer have you by my side Marit. You need to pack your things and take the children with you. I will not have anything here to upset her." Gunnar's face was impassive, like the stone that made up the hall in which they lived.

Marit at first couldn't understand what was happening. This was not her husband, her mate. Gunnar was a warm man, his booming laugh could make anyone happy. He adored his children, he loved her, valued her, respected her. He would never coldly ignore Ingrid and Magnus as they tried to get his attention. She had no idea who this man was in front of her, but he wasn't her Gunnar.

"You've imprinted, haven't you?" It was less of a question than it was a statement. It was the only thing Marit knew of that could do this. But it wasn't the Fenrir's way to repudiate a mate for an imprint, especially if there were children involved.

He nodded. "Dagmar will be expecting to move her things in here by tomorrow. I need to have everything ready for her."

Marit stood up and made Gunnar look her in the eye. "Gunnar, we're married, we have children, doesn't she realize this? I've always known this could happen, why can she not be your friend? If necessary I'm prepared to welcome her into our family as my sister-wife. It doesn't need to be this way!"

He just stepped around her and said "She does not want that. She does not want to share and as my imprint, her happiness is my first concern."

Ingrid and Magnus were only six years old, but they could see the tears in their mother's eyes, they could see the way their father acted like he couldn't see them. They knew something was wrong but they had no idea what. Magnus clung to his mother's leg. His father had never ignored him like this and it made him feel small, like he might not exist anymore. So he held onto his mother's leg and let her be his world, as all mothers are for their children when they are young.

Ingrid walked over to her father and tried to get his attention. She was the older twin, the one who was a bit more daring. Her father would tug on her red hair and call her 'Little Fire' when he came home to them. He was just upset, she knew she could set him right again. She always did. It broke her small heart when he picked her up without really looking at her and handed her back to her mother. It is so easy to wound children. Wound them fast enough or deep enough and it stays for life.

"Dagonet will be here to help you." With that, Gunnar walked out of the kitchen and it would be four years before his children would see him again.

At first Marit looked out the way he had left like she was breaking in half, confusion all over her face. She had woken up a happily married woman with a husband who loved her and loved their two children. Now she was cast aside like so much hearth ash. This could not be happening to her! Then she heard Magnus's whimper and felt Ingrid clutch at her arms. Marit put the two children in front of her and made sure they were looking at her.

"You listen to me. That man was NOT your father. Your father would never ignore you or treat you that way. You father loved you more than anything in this world. That man is NOT him. Your father died today and that is just what's been left behind. Never forget that. He loved you and that isn't him."

They never did forget that. Not when Dagonet, their father's beta, helped them pack... flabbergasted that his alpha would do something like this. Not when they were removed to the northern edge of Gunnar's territory into a log cabin. Not when Dagonet offered to challenge their father for the right to allow them to stay. Their mother merely said no, brushed her fingers over her pack tattoo and told Dagonet that she would leave the way she came, with her dignity. And they certainly didn't forget it four years later when Dagonet came to collect them from the empty cabin to take them back.

Somethings you don't forget and you don't forgive and they settle deep inside you like an oozing wound. The sad part is that if it's been part of you for long enough, the pain just becomes normal and you forget that it is in fact pain, that it hurts. It's just life.