Several days past.
On the first day, Faye had taken pure water and clothe to his bedside. In the rush to stabilize the god, she had not washed away the grime and filth that covered him from head to toe. She hated the idea of touching him. It seemed wrong to offer a god such intimate care while her kind had been slaughtered by the likes of him. More than that, Faye felt uneasy being so close to a god, especially one that she knew was capable of great violence.
Faye reached out and slowly molded her palm over his shoulder. The stranger flinched as their skin touched. He was still feverish. She hoped the fever would not take him to Hel too soon.
"I have questions," Faye muttered, soaking the clothe in the water basin and squeezing it out. A knot balled up in her chest and she steeled herself with grit teeth. She brought the clothe to his arm and pressed it to his pale skin. He stiffened underneath her touch and his brow knit together. Faye could feel the muscles in his shoulder tense but thankfully, he remained unconscious.
Faye continued to work, all the while cursing herself for placing herself in the wolf's jaws. This was all new territory for her. For the later part of her life, all she had known how to do was run from gods. Or at the very least, elude them.
For a time, she slid into the shadows and like a ghost she haunted Asgard. Faye made a name for herself in those days as she tended to the sick and weak prisoners of the Aesir, and passed them all the food she could smuggle.
They called her Laufey the Just.
It maddened and enraged Odin that she had undermined his cruelty. He had sent his son, Thor, after her. Faye managed to elude the witless oaf, but it did get her in the habit of running away from gods. Not tending to them as they lay dying.
Faye squeezed the clothe hard, and roughly scrubbed the man's chest. Perhaps this stranger was an agent sent from Odin to do what Thor could not. The thought made her stomach twist. And here he was, in her bed, receiving her care, all for him to wake up and wrap his hands around her throat.
It would befit the Allfather to send such an agent to appeal to her good-hearted nature. Faye whispered prayers for Tyr's guidance as she washed the dirt and blood away.
As the days bled into each other, Faye had nearly gotten used to the god taking up space in her home.
Every day she would check his bandages and change the wrappings. While his other wounds were on the mend, the ones around his wrists and forearms were steady to heal. In fact, they didn't seem to heal at all. Faye did her best to keep them wrapped with healing salves but deep down she had a feeling that those markings weren't entirely of this world. They looked like the links of chains had burned themselves into his skin.
She stiffened, her blood running cold.
Faye looked back at her rug for a moment, where underneath the blades lay hidden.
"What kind of man would do that to himself?"
He's not a man , Faye reminded herself. Gods are capable of all manner of cruelty. That at least, she knew for certain.
In the night, the stranger would talk as he slumbered. Faye knew all the languages in the nine realms, and yet this one escaped her. Faye knew that she would have to work around the language barrier if she had any hope of getting answers from the stranger. So Faye listened, seeing if she could attune herself to the foreign tongue.
" Calliope ," he would call. Faye was certain it was a name. He said something about being sorry. But it was all still muddy for Faye. This one would certainly take more time.
Sometimes when he grew especially restless, Faye would listen patiently at his bedside.
"Who do you dream about?" She whispered, "Who is Lysandra?"
There were some hard nights where he would jerk violently and cry out. It was maddening for Faye. Though she did not want to wake him and put herself in his rage-fueled path, she also did not want him to open his wounds again.
He's no use dead , she told herself.
"Sh sh sh," Faye tried to soothe, but he continued to thrash. By the dim light of her hearth which had died down to glowing embers, she could see his face contorted in pain.
Faye's jaw tighten and placed a palm to his forehead, trying to steady him.
"Be still, god's-blood." But her words had no effect. Whatever his agitation was, he wasn't going to calm easily.
She wasn't sure from what pit of memories it sprang, but a song found its way to Faye's lips. At first, it was awkward footing as she remembered the tune.
Still, the god was restless. Already blood blossomed through the bandages on his side. Dammit. Faye continued to sing. It was all she had left to do, other than tying him down.
It was a low, whispered song. She was sure that it was a lullaby that she'd heard as a child, one that managed to soothe her when she had nightmares.
Admittedly, Faye felt a bit foolish for singing a child's lullaby to a god. But it didn't matter, she wasn't even sure if he could hear her. But as she sang, the man softened under her palm. His contorted face relaxed some. She could feel the muscles in his body loosen as he fell still once again. Faye had begun to rub her thumb along his forehead absentmindedly.
At last, he calmed. Faye stole her hand away and backed off the god. She gripped her hand in a tight fist, trying to squeeze away the memory of his skin. Faye thought about how she touched him. There had been tenderness, the kind undeserving for a god. She hadn't meant to do that.
She was about to go back to sleep on her rug when a hoarse voice cracked the darkness.
"What have I become? " the stranger murmured. Faye spun around. He had sounded so lucid, and she had understood him perfectly. Yet, his eyes remained closed. His expression was pained.
"What have I become?" he repeated.
Her feelings about the god became more and more muddied. It was hard to be angry at someone whom she had grown so familiar with, even if it was wholly one sided. He could still spring awake at any moment and turn on her, without any knowledge that she had been the one to bring him back from death's grip.
She was still unsure how this god would be connected to her future. No more visions had come to her and his restless murmurings offered no insight. Her lack of clarity coupled with long hours had her growing evermore impatient for answers.
The days seems to be growing longer, even though dusk approached sooner with the coming winter. Faye grew restless with boredom and impatience as the days dragged on. So, she filled the empty hours with menial tasks as she watched over him. She got in the bad habit of humoring one-sided conversations.
One day after she had returned from hunting, she came through her door and announced, "I've caught us venison, Fárbauti."
She had come up with the name which meant 'he who strikes dangerous blows.' It was fitting. And she was tired of calling him a stranger. It had been little more than a week and he had slept in her bed, shared her hearth, and even eaten her food (or whatever broth she could slip past his lips). By any normal standards, he was not a stranger anymore.
She slung the carcass from her shoulder and let it land heavy on her table. Faye brushed a strand of auburn hair from her face with a heavy sigh.
"No grumbles for me today, eh?"
He did not stir.
"Fárbauti?"
A brief panic came over her as she noticed his chest did not move.
"No no no no. Shit!" Faye threw down her bow and quiver and rushed to his bedside. She waited for a moment, holding her breath. His entire body was unnaturally still. She reached out, putting both hands on his shoulders and shook him gently.
She had spent too long hunting. Had the fever taken him in that time? Faye thought he was getting better, already his wounds were fixing to heal well. She was sure he would wake soon, not succumb to his injuries.
" Fárbauti !" Faye shook him again, harder, but he was like a stone. She put her fingers to his neck and found a slow, lazy pulse.
There was one tried and true method that she hadn't tried yet. Faye winced, and she drew her hand back.
"Please don't be angry," she prayed.
She struck him hard across the face.
Eyes like molten gold snapped open.
Faye's heart leapt up in her throat.
Fuck.
Fárbauti gripped her wrist hard, his eyes burning into her own. Her mind spun. Words tumbled out of her mouth.
" Friend, " she said. The man growled and said something back, but she couldn't understand.
"I am not your enemy-" she barely got the last word out when his other hand came to grip her throat. She tried to say the word for friend again but Fárbauti gripped tighter and choked the words from her. Faye clawed at his hand and her lungs burned for air.
There would be a time for reasoning later.
Faye brought her free hand down to his jaw in a quick jab. He grunted and released her. Faye stumbled back, coughing. Fárbauti rose from the bed and winced in pain. He gripped his side and found her bandages there.
"Friend!" Faye croaked and pointed at her chest. "Friend! You stupid idiot!"
What if he wouldn't back down? What if he gave her no choice?
The axe was at still his bedside where she had left it.
Stupid! She scolded herself.
His gaze followed hers to the axe. With a low-burning snarl, he hefted the axe in his grip.
"You are no friend of mine," He said. Fárbauti advanced her.
Message received.
Faye recalled the axe to her hand. An unseen force stole the axe from the god's hand, and it flew through the air in an arc toward Faye. She caught it midair. She ground her teeth, her warrior-spirit burning hard in her gut. The god looked from his hand to the axe that was now clear across the room in Faye's grip. His golden eyes narrowed.
"Come and get it, beast," she growled.
Fárbauti roared and barreled across the room toward her. Before Faye could raise the axe, Fárbauti rammed into her, his shoulder connecting with her ribcage. Air escaped her lungs and Faye gasped.
He threw her against the wall, knocking the axe from her hand. Faye's skull slammed back against the wall. She could taste blood in her mouth.
He pounded his fists into her ribs. She managed to block a few punches, but some met their mark. Pain exploded inside her with every blow.
Fárbauti reeled back, and with another wild roar he brought his fist down. Faye dodged the punch and drove her knee into his abdomen. Right into his wounds. He grunted in pain and drew back, gripping his side and panting. Faye called the axe back to her hand.
"Don't make me kill you," she warned.
The god panted for a moment and spit blood. There was a small breath between them.
As if he realized that she would not be so easily smashed as the stag had been.
"Come on!" Faye roared.
He faked a step to his left and Faye, in her haste, threw the Leviathan. The axe went spiraling to the left and Fárbauti attacked from the right, bringing down blow after blow with renewed fury. Faye blocked his arm and landed three hard punches to his abdomen. She knew if she kept aiming there, he would eventually weaken.
The god faltered with a cry of pain and Faye landed one more hard jab to his throat. The god stumbled back, gasping for breath like a fish.
Faye inhaled slowly and approached him, wiping blood from her lip. She drove a devastating kick to his knee, bringing him down to the floor as he coughed and sputtered. She slid to the floor and wrapped her arms around his neck, bear-hugging the air from his lungs. He drove himself back and buried her beneath him but Faye held tight. She wrapped her legs around him and hooked her ankles at his chest to keep him from kicking her off.
" Friend ," Faye snarled through grit teeth. Fárbauti elbowed her hard in the ribs and she heard a sickening crack. Still, she held on through the pain.
Struggling harder, and more desperately, Fárbauti reached back and grabbed a fistful of her auburn hair. Faye yelped as he tore a good chunk of her hair out. She dug her teeth into his arm until she tasted blood.
She only had to hold on a bit longer. His breaths were growing more labored. Faye could feel the strength draining from him with every struggle, each one becoming less ferocious than the last.
Finally, Fárbauti fell limp on top of her. Faye was still panting and holding tight.
Let go.
She had to tear herself away to keep from killing him. Faye heaved his massive body off her and regained her breath.
Faye planted one last kick into his back.
"Stupid god," she hissed.