Mortal's Choice

His Mortal

The house was dark and rather quiet. Fenrir had walked around it a few times and then it started to rain so he went back inside appeased that everything seemed to be in order out there. No one was lurking about, and the scents were normal. So were they in the house. Over the past few days he realized he was starting to get defensive about the house, and checking if there were intruders. Or even people she knew coming on to the property. Clearly he was starting to get territorial, another sign that he was healing.

Not that he need to worry about unwanted visitors, she seemed a bit more reclusive and she seemed to be worried about this Max. He didn't know who Max was, but she was clearly worried about him. Fenrir wasn't sure he liked it, who was this man? Probably enemy, couldn't trust people as far as you could throw them. That was clearly his outlook. While she waited to hear from him, she was teaching him to write. Though it was in her language, but that was a start he guessed. How was a mortal supposed to teach him how to write in the language of the gods?

A few times now he felt this pull in his head. Like someone was trying to reach him mentally, and the coolness of it told him it wasn't a friend. The sword also burned in his mouth, no doubt in reaction to Surt searching for it. Which to mortals apparently looked like what they called a tongue ring. He moved through the house and to her room. She was sleeping on her side curled up and he realized from about day one that she was a really heavy sleeper.

He moved in and walked over to her side of the bed and stared down at her before leaning over her and placing a hand on either side and just stared at her. He did this because he was figuring her out. Reading the energy and aura around her and when she slept was when she was the most revealing with it. Like awake she was just to guarded. That and he wasn't tired and just liked watching her sleep he guessed. The windows in her room faced out the back, and one was cracked open so he could easily hear if someone or thing came on the property.

He would sleep for a few hours at a time here and there. He'd had enough sleep to last him a life time at the moment. When he did, he either laid on the floor in here or next to her. She had asked if he was using the guest room and he just shrugged. She asked if he was sleeping, and he just shrugged. She liked to ask a lot of questions about him and if he was okay, or needed something. It was odd at first, he figured she was trying to do something so that he'd have to owe her more than he did at the moment. But clearly she didn't seem to be doing that. He also had a feeling that admitting he was watching her sleep and staying in her room would probably piss her off. So he tended to get up and leave before she was even awake.

There was a strong spirit in this mortal woman. He hoped it was enough when the rest came. He was living in a lie if he didn't think someone wasn't going to find him eventually. Truth be told he was shocked that no other gods had noticed he wasn't still imprisoned. From what he was seeing of this world everything was different. For all he knew they had stopped visiting this world a long time ago. But he was thinking as he looked at her trying to figure out what drove her or others for that matter.

It wasn't like he had a ton of time out of captivity. He'd been raised like some house pet. The gods had known the danger he and his siblings were, and figured keeping them at bay was best. He'd ended up a leashed dog at Odin's side until he just kept growing. Started to become violent with the change to his body and power, growing into what he was. A hybrid, part god part giant and he'd killed a good number that came at him. Or got in his way. He'd needed to feed with the rate in which his body was growing and the gods feared he'd devour the world. That it would trigger Ragnarok.

All because someone scribbled on a stupid tree, he was denied a life. It had been hell to feel his starved body scream for substance to grow. It hurt, and so had the thirst. The air he had left his lungs and he'd laid in that tomb knowing he wasn't leaving it ever. At least that was what it had felt like until he heard the scraping of that sword as she pulled it out. She broke the seal and he'd been released, but he wasn't free yet. Still a prisoner, he wanted to know the price he had to pay to live like she did.

She was sleeping right now, and watching her he envied her greatly. It looked like she had no worries, that she could sleep when she pleased. Her voice wasn't stripped from her, nor her freedoms. She could do whatever she wanted too. His jealousy of that was curbed a bit by the fact she was being kind enough to teach him things the gods never would have. He was an animal, and until being forced into this form was exactly how he lived for the most part. How could you not when treated as such?

He eyed her thinking, mortals were odd creatures. Flitting about with their short lives. Yet they seemed to enjoy it, enjoy the time with their family and mates. He wondered what that was like, or just being around another person that wanted you around. What the freedom of being with them was like because you wanted too. Curious he reached up and touched some of her hair.

It was really soft, smooth with an almost silky feel to it. He hadn't touched her before while sleeping, but curiosity got the better of him. He leaned down and inhaled just her scent that soft peach. He liked it couldn't remember anyone else that smelled that way. which was good. They'd probably have ruined the scent for him. He tipped his head thinking a bit more, he wasn't exactly sure how to repay the debt he owed her of freeing him. But he wasn't in a rush to do it either he found suddenly. The longer he was with this mortal, the more he saw her as his mortal. He didn't have anyone else in this world.

He couldn't make her stay in this house though. He'd have to give like the other day when they went out. If he didn't, it was clear she was going to get vindictive with him. Not a shock he knew what it was like to be kept somewhere. He just didn't want to go in the outside world. He was going to have to if he was planning on staying around her, and he needed a place. He had no home. She opened up his tomb and he found he liked her, so she was stuck with him. He wasn't going out of his way to make friends, didn't want them, didn't need them. He had his siblings and now Tamara. He was strong enough now that as a mortal she couldn't do much, but he'd still watch her. Liking didn't mean trusting.

He smoothed her hair again enjoying the feel, her skin was soft too and he studied her some more. He could make a blood bond with her. She couldn't very well run away from him then. Not that she was going to get far if she did. He'd out run her or over power her at any turn. He felt a rather darker feeling there at the thought of her running from him, or forcing him out. He wasn't going to allow such a thing, This mortal he was forming a dependency on.

She shifted a bit moving more on her back and he continued to watch her. He needed to mark his mortal, and a blood bond sounded good. Very easy to do, pretty painless too. He touched her face then and she frowned in her sleep. He lowered his hand to the bed and tipped his head slightly. Maybe he should do more than that, place his mark on her even more. Make sure the rest knew to whom she belonged. He knew that plenty of gods did that to mortals they decided they wanted or cared for. Marked them in more ways than one, and the idea was kind of exciting.

There was a sudden sharp buzz and ring on the nightstand. He looked that way, she made an odd sound and he looked back down at her. Her phone was going off and it increased in volume. She seemed to be waking up for it, clearly not that deep in sleep. He'd seen her sleep through a phone call or two. She did open her eyes and he was just watching her and the expressions that passed over her face. The moment that she opened her eyes, she cried out and was fast to bring up a hand to hit him. He caught her wrist though and forced it back down to the bed with a dark quiet growl.

"Fenrir? What the hell are you doing?" She demanded and clearly her heart was beating fast. She sounded almost out of breath. He just watched her though, his gaze moving over her face to her mouth and lower for a moment just thinking.

"Would you get off of me? What is wrong with you!" She demanded, he wasn't really on her. He was over her though. He had come up on the bed at some point not really realizing it. He straddled her hips with a knee on either side. His one hand was braced near her head and the other still held her wrist down firmly. He shook his head at her. No, he wasn't going to move he was contemplating a few things and was still watching her. How long had it been since he got something he wanted?

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