My 13th fic for the 100 SSSS-fic challenge, inspired by the word Misfortune.
"Hey, Fish-guy!"
Fish-guy stopped at his captain's call, looked over his shoulder, smiling. Waved towards her and she hurried her steps.
"No walking away alone. There are still beasts out there."
"I was only gonna take a piss."
"Rules are rules. They're there for your safety."
She followed him. He made sure she looked away as he took care of his business, then he called for her, told her he was ready to head back. She put an arm around his shoulders.
"You see, Fish-guy, this world is dangerous."
"I know, Sigrun, my parents are seafarers."
"You know, that explains so much!"
Fish-guy laughed. Sigrun patted his back.
"So what do your parents think about you joining the trollhunters instead of their division?"
"I think they're happy. They say it's much safer on land."
Sigrun nodded. Fish-guy continued talking about his family, sometimes interrupted by his captain, and then they were back inside the cabin where their division currently resided. Hunting trolls was a full time job and they had made sure to put up cabins out in the woods so they didn't have to retreat all the way back to Dalsnes after every day.
The cabins was sturdy, safe from any troll that tried to break them down. Mages from Iceland's academy had put extra protection spells around them to make them even safer and they sent scouts out every other month to check on the cabins so no trolls managed to get inside.
Fish-guy settled down by the table, started talking with a couple of his friends. Before joining the army he only had a couple friends, and had never really found himself enjoying their company. But in the army he felt right at home. He was certain it was partly thanks to the captain.
She smiled towards him before getting back into discussion with the other captain that resided in the same building.
"Yo, Jørgen! What are you dreaming about?"
Fish-guy shook his head and returned to the table. He had been given five cards and the game was on. The old-timers called the game poker, Jörgen mostly called it "A way for my so called friends to steal my money". He had never been particulary good at it. No poker-face, his father had explained when he complained about it. "Just stay away from gambling and you'll be fine." But gambling was a large part of being in the army, since there was little else they could entertain themselves with.
"What are we betting today?"
"Next week's foodstamps. Think you got a chance?"
"I don't know, going without food a whole week..."
"Come on, Jørgen, don't be such a bore!"
Fish-guy laughed.
"Okay, I'm in."
The game started, but they had barely finished the first round when the guard came inside.
"BEAST APPROACHING!"
The two captains looked at each other, Sigrun got up a little bit faster. That meant her division would take care of it. She looked at her men and Jørgen put the cards down on the table, grabbed his knife and hurried after her, hurried out together with the others.
A scout would easily have shot it, but they didn't have any scouts in the cabin. Their mission was running between the cabins and Dalsnes, getting messages to where they needed, as well as scout the forest before the hunting-season started, so the hunters would know where to go once it was time. Scouts needed to be sneaky, and therefore often recieved extra training in shooting, whereas hunters needed to be prepared to get into fist-fights with giants. Their training reflected that.
Everyone got ready. Since the guard had called for them they knew it would be a big attack, and not just some vermin beasts. The cats took care of those. They lined up in groups of five, waited.
Two mooses came through the trees. Behind them a couple of deers. Sigrun pulled out her knife and everyone else followed her direction. She leaned down, ready to sprint towards the animals as soon as she knew they were her targets.
And off she went. Everyone followed, quickly adopting to how the beasts ran, what orders their captain shouted. Sigrun had exceptionally good eyesight, which was why she was their captain. Closer up the rest could see it as well. The tiny worm-like things inside the beasts' eyes.
They attacked. The beasts attacked back, lowering their horns and pushing them into anyone who came too close. Fish-guy ended up on the back of one of the deers, thanking whatever god was willing to listen that there was still a bit of sunlight out. He sank his knife into its skull and it fell over, he tumbled off and took a couple of his team mates down. Meanwhile Sigrun grabbed the beastmoose around its neck, pulled it down to the ground, but was kicked off by the other moose. Before the first moose could get up five people from their division jumped ontop off it.
Fish-guy and Sigrun came up on their feet again, Sigrun holding a hand over her chest. Broken ribs, probably, Fish-guy thought as he prepared to help with the other moose. It was heading towards the cabin and he gestured for the quickest to follow him, Sigrun joining the hunt. One of them threw a rope towards the moose, managed to catch one of its antlers. Everyone grabbed the rope, pulled at it. The beast tried to fight them, but ended up in the ground. Fish-guy and Sigrun held the rope together with Reidar, another of the hunters. Reidar was strong like ten bears and enjoyed a good fight now and then, especially against trolls. Rumor said Reidar had battled three giants one time, all by himself, and gotten out of the fight unharmed. Fish-guy didn't believe the rumours.
Gunhild and Eivor grabbed the legs, making the beast unable to kick or get back up and Trygve drew his knife, lodged it into the beast's skull. The beast screamed, its skin seemed to boild. Trygve grabbed the beast's head, held it down, Gunhild and Eivor took a firmer grip around the legs and Reidar threw himself over the moose. Trygve's voice sounded in their ears as they waited for the moose to stop moving.
"I'm so sorry. It'll be better now, you'll be free. Isn't this... isn't this better?"
Trygve always felt sorry for the beasts. And then the moose stopped moving. Jørgen went to Trygve's side, put a hand on his shoulder. Trygve let go of the moose, got up and looked at Jørgen.
"The mages will release them now, right? Guide them to the afterlife?"
"Of course, don't worry. Next time you meet moosey he's gonna be all better and he's gonna recognise you as the one who saved him. It'll be nice."
Trygve smiled. The army gathered themselves again, sun slowly setting by the horizon. There was only one more month left on the hunting season, then they'll be back home, gathering their strenght for next summer. All of them got back to the cabin today, and once the came inside celebrations were in order. Not every hunt was as successful as this one had been.
One more week of hunting. Jørgen leaned back against the cabin wall. Their division was free today, meaning they had to clean the cabin and cook the meals. Right now he had a break, but he knew the others would call him back inside soon enough.
He needed to take a leak. He looked towards the cabin, not seeing anyone, but figured he should still move away a bit. He took an extra look, called inside the cabin and then hurried out towards the trees. He wouldn't go far, just so that they couldn't see him pulling out his wiener.
He stopped by a tree, let out a sigh of relief when the pee exited his body. He had needed this. He pulled off a leaf from the closest bush, dried himself off and was getting ready to head back when he heard something.
"Hello? Anyone there?"
The other division wasn't supposed to be back yet, not for another couple of hours. By sunset they had said. He didn't remember seeing anyone else leave the cabin either. He took a few steps towards the sound.
"Hello? Who's there?"
He heard sounds. Not human sounds, and he stopped, gulped. A face peeked out through the bush infront of him and he looked at the eyes.
Worm-like things.
His hands shivered when he saw the brown muzzle, the black, round eyes and the large teeth. The beast looked at him, opened its mouth and roared. Jørgen turned his back towards it, started sprinting. If the guard saw the beast help would come.
He knew he couldn't outrun it. Back in the opening he stopped, called out to the cabin, hoped someone would hear him. He waved, then grabbed his knife, turned back towards the forest. The beast exited. The sunlight hitting it made it pull back, but it could feel Jørgen's smell and it excited it, drove it mad.
It charged. Jørgen tried to push the knife into its skull, but the bear's paw hit the knife out of his hand. It flew away, hid beneath a bush, and Jørgen had to parry the beast with his hand. The teeth bit down, blood trickled down his arm, the bones in his hand crunching in the beast's mouth. The claws in his side, ripping out a piece of his flesh and he screamed, bit down. Another hit from the other claw. His rips broke, his lungs got penetrated. He gasped for air, but only blood filled them. His arms fell down, and the bear leaned down, sunk its teeth into his throat. Pulled him back into the forest.
Jørgen's vision was fading, his breathing stopped, his heart stopped. His brain closed down.
The bear would eat that night.
Sigrun was the first one to rush into the forest. Reidar grabbed her around the waist, held her back. She fought him, tried to get out of his grip. She would show that bear.
"You can't take it alone."
"I'm not alone, I'm accompanied by the rage of a hundred men!"
Reidar didn't believe her, didn't let her go. The rest of the group caught up with them and Reidar led the way, still with Sigrun in his grip. She flailed, screamed, tried to bite him, but he didn't even flinch. She tried ordering him, as she was the captain and should not be treated that way, but that didn't work either. He didn't let her go until they caught up with the beast. Blood covered its face and they surrounded it, carefully watched its every movement.
Sigrun started the attack.
"This is for Fish-guy!"
Her knife wasn't effective enough, the bear easily swatted her away. Reidar attacked together with Gunhild and Eivor, caught one of the bear's paws as the other two lodged their knives into the bear's throat. It flinched, backed away. Its claws ripped at Reidar's side, but Reidar held on to the paw. Sigrun attacked again, and then an axe came flying, landed into the bear's skull. It stopped, looked around, and then fell down. Everyone released the bear and looked around.
Trygvar. Sigrun waved towards him and he hurried up to them, fell to his knees next to the bear. Carefully patted its head. Sigrun put a hand on his shoulder and pulled the axe out of the bears head, handing it back to Trygvar.
"Thanks for helping us."
"Why does it always have to be so much death?"
"Well, it was either him or us. I'm happy about the outcome."
She looked at the blood spread out around the bear's muzzle. The others looked at her and she let out a sigh.
"Let's go back. The mages will take care of it in the morning."
"What about Jørgen?"
Sigrun looked confused for a moment, then realised they meant Fish-guy. Jørgen. Sadly she wouldn't get a chance to call him by his real name.
"The gods have probably already called for him. He died fighting for them, and for their people."
She looked at the sky, pulled Trygve up at his feet and started walking back towards the cabin. She'd have to find Jørgen's parents when she got back to town after hunting season was over.
Everyone was at the funeral. Sigrun had told Jørgen's parent and while they looked sad she knew they took some comfort in the fact that he was at Valhall now. They would all meet him again when they got there as well.
Reidar pushed the boat into the sea, and Jørgen's father let the first arrow fly. They watched in silence as the boat floated out into the sea, caught on fire and then got swallowed by the waves. There was no corpse on the boat, but it gave all of them some comfort knowing they had done the best they could to honor their traditions, the gods and Jørgen's memory.
They walked together back to the Dalsnes Hall where a feast was waiting. Mead and meat for everyone. In honor of Jørgen's memory, but also to celebrate that the hunting season was over. Apart for Jørgen, everyone had gotten out of the hunting season alive. Sure, lots of wounded hunters, a few wounded scouts, but only one death. That was better than most years.
Sigrun looked out over her hunters, proud to be able to call herself their captain. She scratched herself on the upper arm, before going back to the meal infront of her.
