Greetings. Jiro here to Re-write Ragnarok Fenrirsson. Instead of updating it after a whopping 2 years, I decided to take it down and re-write it in my longer, much more detailed writing style. I hope you enjoy this more than before, and appreciate everything. Thanks for all of the love and support, Jiro 'The Ghetto Shaman' Uchiha
You truly thought that you knew what transpired in the days of old, during the times of the Vikings? I find that amusing, because you are sorely mistaken. Do you believe the Eddas written and compiled by Snorri Sturlson, a Cross-bearer? Would you believe me if I told you of how King Tutankhamen wrote the legends of the Shinto Gods? Of course not. Please, be seated and relax as I tell you what Truly transpired, starting Nine Hundred and Eighty-Seven years after the death of the might Ymir.
Lo was there cold. A biting cold so powerful that white rain fell every day until it was up to a man's waist. And no matter how powerful this cold was, man went out in this biting white rain that you now call Snow, and he strode long distances to reach rivers that were frozen. And, exhausted from his trek to the river, Man pushed farther, using Axe and Spear to chip at the frozen rivers. And he chipped and chipped, his body burning in the freezing cold as he pulled large blocks of ice from these frozen rivers.
And, if Man was still alive by this point, he would make the long, hard trek back to his home with the ice. And this trek killed many a man from what you now call Hypothermia, known only back then as the Cold Death. And if Man was strong enough to return to his home with this Ice, his family would shower him with affection as they used the ice to cook, bathe, and to drink. However, due to how hard the ice was to retrieve, many opted out of bathing, it being said that you could smell families from miles away, these people finding nourishment more necessary than hygiene.
However, lack of hygiene caused people to become infected and die, making this time very depressing for all. And those who ended their own suffering when their husbands and fathers and sons never returned from the frozen lakes. And Lo were there men with powers of the supernatural and arcane. These men, powerful and envied, were known as Magisters. And these men prayed and chanted to the gods, and summoned power they never would have dreamed of to bestow them with warmth and wealth. This became common knowledge, and people, freezing and desperate, gathered, asking these Magisters to share their blessings with them.
But sadly, that did not happen. Magisters became either too tired to assist, or selfish, craving everything for themselves. And the poor few Magisters who did assist the poor and freezing over-exerted themselves, dieing from using too much magick. This caused the normal, powerless people to grow angry and retaliate, hunting the Magisters like weakened deer. These men were thrust upon them a choice. Use thy magicks to harm the innocent, or submit to their will?
This became too difficult a choice for some, who ended their own misery. This, coupled with the Magisters who were struck down by humans and those who over-exerted themselves to the point of death, caused the Magister race to become nearly extinct, accounting for the modern civilization's lack of magick. But, this story is not about these men. No, infact It's about so much more
And Lo was there an Island, one island overgrown with Heather, known as Lyngvi, and upon this island was Fenrir, the Fen-Dweller, the Fame-Wolf, the Monster of the river Van. He laid upon his side, a sword stuck in his jaws, keeping them open as saliva ran from his mouth at abnormal rate, creating the River Van, or the River of Hope. Fenrir laid still, his body bound by the legendary Gleipnir, a binding made from the sound of a cat's footfall, a woman's beard, a bear's sinew, a fish's breath, a bird's spittle and the roots of a mountain. This magickal, slender ribbon kept the massive wolf bound, as it had for centuries.
And from Gleipnir hung a cord known as Gelgja, a cord that was inserted into a large stone known as Gjoll, and the gods that bound Fenrir slammed Gjoll into the ground with a great rock known as Thviti. However, during the great Fimbulvintr, it was said that Fenrir's bindings would be broken, something that the wolf always looked forward to.
And Lo was there a magickal place, a cave to be specific, known as Gnipahellir, or Gnipa Cave. And in this cave was Garmr, a bloodstained hound that watched over Hel, both the realm and the goddess. And the great monster hound shook, breaking his bindings into pieces, racing from the cave as he howled loudly, the sound of his howl being heard throughout the nine realms.
And as Garmr howled, Gleipnir loosened, and Fenrir shook as he stood upright, snapping the magickal fetter as he bit down and broke the sword that was in his mouth, his energy renewed as he ran from the island, along the path of saliva he left. Fenrir's monstrous footfalls caused mountains to shake as he barreled through the nine realms, reaching Midgard, the wolf having no concept of time.
And he barreled through his realm, which seemed small to him, the wolf trampling though frozen forests and ice covered villages, his time limited. He knew he had little time, the gods likely on his tail as he moved. He was so old he had no idea of his true age, which is likely thousands of years old. And the might Fame-Wolf knew, that if he had even a score of years, that would be much more than he anticipated.
And with irony in his mind, he made it to a village known as Forfid Von, or the village of hope, which was build parallel to the river that flowed from Fenrir's jaws. And unlike the snow covered wastelands he charged through earlier, this village was calm and peace. Small cabins made of wood instead of stone lined the village streets, a small market along the main road closed for the day, the wolf's eyes looking about the whole village. And he stopped, his eyes locked onto an oddly large temple made of stone in the center of the village.
Atop the entrance to this large temple was a stone carving of a wolf's head. Infact, taking another look around the town, every home had some form of wolf related emblem or talisman on it, ranging from simple wolf carvings and runes to the pelts of fallen wolves, the cause of the wolf's death likely natural from their grayed muzzles. And the wolf found the whole ideal of a village based around wolves odd and absurd. Then, he blinked, his ears perking up as he realized something.
The village, a small peaceful thing that had wolf related things about it, was known as Forfid Von, which mean the Village Of Hope. Von, the second word the village's name, comes from Van, the name of the river he drooled while fettered with that accursed blade in his jaws. The village, from it's name and heavy wolf relation, seemed to worship him
He was extremely surprised that he could fit in the temple, walking about with room to spare. He expected to find a whole village's populace inside, huddled around a fire for warmth, but instead, he found the exact opposite. Looking about the walls of the temple, he stopped and sat, glancing upwards, noticing that large runes covered the roof of the temple. Before reading, Fenrir wondered how many humans lost their lives trying to create this temple and carve the huge runes atop it.
The runes were expertly carved, and they read: 'The great Wolf is All, and Man is None. To Wolf, Man gives Woman, For Man has nothing else to give Wolf. Lead Man against Giant, for Victory during The End. God is not God, and Gods are not Gods. Wolf above All, Woman is Gift. Pure, New, Empty, Yours.'
Fenrir read the runic inscription multiple times, finding it quite odd that the runes were done in such detail, each massive rune containing wolves' heads and the names of the men who chiseled these roof runes from the stone. Fenrir was impressed, his eyes glancing down to the center of the temple, noticing a small poll, only about ten feet in height, noticing that there was something tied to the pole. His eyes narrowed.
He saw a woman, one whose beauty did not go unnoticed by the wolf. She was tied to the pole in the cold temple, left, as if the villagers expecting him to come. How many women perished in this fashion? Tied to a pole by the ankles and wrists with nothing but a mere thin sheet of fabric around her lean waist. What kind of village ties up woman expecting Godlike wolves to appear and take the women? He wondered, questioning the sanity of the Village's leaders.
He laid down to properly look at the woman, his large head likely the same as she was. Her bosom, an exposed pasture of milky white, exposed flesh, was slightly covered by her long, shaggy black hair, Fenrir's sharp vision noticing her cold, erect nipples through her hair. Her hair, something Fenrir kept looking to, covered her shinning Hazel eyes, her eyes containing an emotion that the Wolf couldn't read. He found it odd, but continued to watch her.
Fenrir had never had any actual contact with humans, only seeing them from the forest when he was with his mother, a giantess that made Fenrir shudder. Her breath, which Fenrir saw and smelt, her breath smelling of fresh water, her breath shallow and ragged, Fenrir exhaling as her eyes locked onto him like a hawk. I may be my Father's son, but I am not skilled in those crafty Magicks that the Gods boast of so openly. He thought, standing and moving closer to her. He circled the pole she was tied to, curling his massive body to cover the woman, her breath evening as he felt her freezing cold skin.
He noticed that she began to speak, and she spoke in a language that Fenrir didn't recognize, her vocalization coming in quick, fast paced bursts. The wolf grunted, silencing her as he exhaled through his nose. Using one of his few magickal skills, Telepathy, the wolf spoke to her, not wanting to open his jaws and scare her. I hope this works, The only language I know is the one the gods speak. He thought to himself, hoping that she understood him so that he could learn more of her situation.
What is the problem, human? He asked her, her mouth flying about, speaking faster than before, her mind barely forming thoughts that he could read. I am the Great Wolf's offering Her mind said, Fenrir exhaling through his jaws to silence her as he thought about what that meant. Humans put an emphasis on Virginity, so I can assume that the village would assume that virgins would appease the gods more. He thought, glancing to the entrance. Does the village want me to kill this virgin to appease some ritual of theirs? He wondered, looking to her.
When he turned his head all the way to her, he noticed something he scolded himself for missing beforehand, the scent of fresh blood.His nostrils flared, the Wolf noticing that he could also faintly smell pheromones. These pheromones were unfamiliar to him by scent, but their purpose was clear by their scent. They were Pheromones that indicated Estrus, or Heat. He inhaled her scent one more, his pupils dilating at the scent, his lions stirring as he lifted his head.
Her breathing became even more ragged as Fenrir's nose pressed against her chest, his tongue lapping at her chest, the girl moaning as he breasts moved up with his tongue, bouncing back down. The scent was enticing, as he had once heard his father tell him it should be. Why would these humans want me to kill her? He wondered, his tongue moving from her face as he stopped to think. I will not kill this human. I will mate with her. He thought, his dominant, instinctual mindset taking over.
The villagers arrived next morning to discover the woman asleep laying against Fenrir, the Wolf's face complacent as he slept. The villagers dropped to their knees as they began to praise Fenrir, the sound waking him up. He looked to them lazily, exhaling sharply to quiet them. Tell me, how many woman have died as my sacrifices? He asked, and an elderly woman came up. "None O Mighty Wolf, she was the first. We knew you would be released during the Fimbulvintr, and prepared her for you." she said, the wolf narrowing his eyes.
And who chose for her to be the sacrifice? He asked, the elderly woman recoiling. "She was taken against her family's wishes, but, she will be returned to her home safely." she said, and Fenrir frowned, the expression on his jaws making the villagers take a step back. No. She is mine. I will have her for myself. She will live with me. He said, his instinctual dominance rearing it's head. The elderly woman nodded in agreement, the wolf calming down. And what is this woman's name? He asked, and the Elderly woman exhaled.
"Her name is Ylfa Hildasdottir, she is the daughter of the village Meat Trader and his wife.'" she said, the wolf nodding. You may take her to her family's home, but she will be returned to me within nine days. He said, the elderly woman nodding nine times as Ylfa was slowly removed from the being against the Wolf's side, the Wolf exhaling as he watched the villagers depart. I must use all of my power to protect this woman. He thought to himself, laying his head back down and falling asleep.
And Lo did nine months pass, Ylfa spending most of her time bedridden, her stomach swollen to the point where the village doctor thought the child might literally burst from her stomach. After the nine days with her family, Fenrir and Ylfa were accepted as the new village leaders, everyone agreeing that nothing was better for the village then to be led by their God and his chosen woman. Fenrir smiled as he looked across the temple to where Ylfa was giving birth, the wet-nurse telling her to give the first push, coming one step closer to birthing their God's child.
She screamed in pain, her nether regions distended beyond an inhuman amount, Fenrir himself grimacing at the pain she must be in. Unable to hand her his hand like most fathers, and unlike his, he thought, the Wolf moved closer, using quiet groans and growls he used to try and sooth Ylfa. You can do this Elska. He said to her, her face changing to a smile before she screamed even louder, her belly having been distended beyond normal, the wolf worrying about both his Wife and child.
The wet-nurse's gaze vaulted to look at Ylfa's bright red, sweat coated face. "Push My Lady, the Head is out!" she called, the Wolf seeing a large hairy object exiting his Wife's nether regions, the sight intriguing him as she screamed and pushed, more and more of the child exiting her womb as she became exhausted, falling back near unconscious.
STAY AWAKE ELSKA! Fenrir boomed telepathically, the woman vaulting back to life as her Husband, and God, spoke to her in a loud, commanding voice, the woman shouting louder then ever before, loud enough to make the entire Village hesitate in shock as she turned purple, her screams silenced as she fell back onto her sweat soaked bedding, panting harder then ever before, barely able to keep conscious. Her eyesight faded as she fell unconscious, her awareness fading. Fenrir frowned as he stood, fearing for his Wife's health, his footsteps slowing as he heard the cries of a newborn child. However, these weren't human cries, they were loud, gravelly shouts from something that was more than human.
The nursemaid held the massive, two and a half foot long child, who was heavy enough that she could barely hold him up, falling to a sitting position with the behemoth child. She was quite perplexed at the child appearance. So much so, that she remained silent as she looked at the large child, who was coated in a thin reddish-brown fur, or was it hair? Regardless, the child had teeth, another oddity, his four canine teeth much larger than normal human teeth. The nursemaid turned, doing her best to present the child to Fenrir. "The Child is a Boy My Lord." she stated, her head bowed in respect. Fenrir's massive jaws stretched into the largest, most frightening proud smile a father Wolf could manage.
Care for him, and give him to Ylfa when she awakens. He commanded, walking from the temple and village as the woman nodded in response. Fenrir looked to the sky, feeling the cold breeze on his fur, inhaling as he bowed his head. I will protect my son. I will protect my wife. This will not be the end for my family. He thought, throwing his head back and releasing a massive, thunderous howl that shook the village and reached Asgaard, making all of the gods hesitate as they heard it.
Once awakened, Ylfa took the massive child from the wet-nurse, who was named Dis Vonsdottir, a name that made Ylfa smile. She cradled the child as best she could, exposing one of her breasts as the behemoth latched on and began suckling like a newborn wolf cub. Fenrir walked back in at that time, laying down next to Ylfa. He is beautiful, Elska. Fenrir said, his eyes filled with fatherly pride as she opened her mouth, her voice strained badly as she spoke
"He is breathtaking." she said, smiling as she coughed threw the rasp in her voice. "What should we name him?" she asked, and Fenrir blinked, realizing that he had never actually named something. Not even the river that flowed from his jaws, which he learned from a passing squirrel. The child was large, powerful, and wolf-like. He smiled, this was his son. "His name..." Fenrir said, his voice baritone as he spoke aloud, making everyone freeze. "His name shall be Ragnarok Fenrirsson." he declared, the villagers looking in the direction of the temple and praying to the Wolf-God, praying for the health and well being of his son.
Fenrir's lips spread in a great smile as he looked to the sky. Hati… Skoll… you have a new brother. He thought, thinking about his two other sons, looking down to Ragnarok. He felt proud as he looked to this new, untainted lifeform, his jaws spreading as he unleashed another great howl. My time away from my sister's realm is limited. But, Ragnarok's will not be. This, I will make sure of. He thought, his eyes steeled and lips in a frown as he remained adamant.
Dis laughed as she stood outside of the temple. "Ragnarok Fenrirsson. Death of the Gods and Son of the Fen Dweller" she said, chuckling as she walked about. "However, My Lord was very smart in picking that name, as in Forfid Von's dialect of Norse, his name means God Killing Son of Fenrir." she said, chuckling as she looked back to the temple, nodding as she decided to do everything in her power to keep that child safe. I will face down Odin himself to protect this child. She said, hearing a loud shout from the child, making her chuckle.
Hope you enjoy lol. It took me a little bit to write this, and I finished it July 8th, but it'll go up after chapters two and three are done XD. But, I do hope you like this version more then the first version, which was only 1.2K words long, which I considered a long chapter 2 years ago lol. Thank you for viewing and I hope you look forward to more. Thanks for all of your love and support, Jiro 'The Ghetto Shaman' Uchiha, One Twisted Fuck Inc.
AN: Elska is Icelandic for Love