Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
He watched his máni from afar.
It took every ounce of self-control not to interrupt Viggo and his daughter, when they filled in the time lost, due to her mother's own secret plans.
Egil was furious for the time stolen from him as well. He could have, should have known his máni from childhood. He should have been there to steal the first blush on her cheeks, the first kiss from her lips, the first words of love from her heart.
He should have been her first everything.
He was not angry with her, but with her husband and mother. Those two had brought torment and pain into his love's life, and it was something he could not accept. Doubting he would ever be able to torture his máni's mother if she was still alive, but Jarl?
He would die. His actions were cruel enough for even the bloðorn to be performed. Egil and his beast would relish in opening his back, cutting his ribs open and pulling his lungs out, dropping them to hang above his shoulders like the bloody eagle he was.
His pack rarely performed any punishments used in the human world, but even their beasts would call for the blood of their enemies from time to time. It made it hard not to succumb to the ways of their inner nature.
Most of their punishments were mimications from what the Gods had to endure. If given a false testimony, a hand would be ripped out the same way Tyr lost his hand to Fenrir. If hunger for power and knowledge consumes someone, they lose an eye the same way Odin sacrificed his right eye for a sip of wisdom and knowledge from Mimir. And if such a cruel act as destroying your pack would occur, the guilty one would be forcefully fed his own flesh from toes up. Just as Jörmungandr circled the World with his own tail between his teeth.
Maybe the woman had good intentions when taking her daughter away from the pack. Perhaps she was so afraid of something, that she doubted the pack would be able to help her. Maybe she was desperate.
The Jarl on the other hand, had nothing but cruel intentions. It was clear to everyone who lived close to their town, that Jarl Gunnarson was an evil man, a devilish man.
His twisted mind saw no wrong in taking a girl barely the age of sixteen as his bride, when he was already almost three times her age. He saw no wrong in beating, kicking, humiliating and raping a woman he was supposed to treat as a respected wife, like she was nothing but a slave from one of his raids.
They were the cause of Iona's pain, The nightmares Viggo told Egil she had every night. She was in pain, but she was strong.
So strong. She showed no signs of being broken, even though he knew on some level she was, despite the horrors the Jarl must have inflicted upon her. She healed quickly, and Egil made himself a mental reminder to reward the witch later on for saving his love.
She moved with grace, with fierceness and determination. Her moves were well thought and swifth.
The pull was strong, he felt it every day when gazing towards her from behind the trees, and even she felt it, for she turned around and met his eyes. Everything froze for that single moment.
She smiled, shyly. Her eyes were still weary, but her lips were lifted just the tiniest bit, in a genuine smile. Her attention on him had been noticed my her father as well, who did not seem pleased.
"Wait one moment, my dear," Viggo spoke to his daughter with a displeased grunt, before making his way with heavy steps towards his Alpha.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
Five, long steps, was all it took and he was standing infront of Egil. Arms crossed and a scowl on his face. Muscles tight and covered in runes, stories about their kind, the beasts he had slain.
"What can I do for you Alpha?" he asked with tight lips and furrowed brows. "Surely you are not here for her just yet?"
Egil was impatient, and did not care for the speech his "in-law" was about to give. "I am not here to tell her anything just yet," he roared. Cursing internally for the lost patience, he took few deep breaths before speaking again. "The pull is very strong, and I needed to see her. But I will hold my word, Viggo. I do not want her to repeat her mother's mistake and run from us."
Or from me, he thought.
Releasing the nerves, fear and anxiety with a heavy sigh, Viggo loosened his lips in to a small smile of his own. "That is good. But, Alpha, I do not think it is wise for you to show yourself around her before her beast is ready," both men turned to look at the said woman, both with a look of their own in their eyes. "It will only confuse her," Viggo continued, feeling relaxed after Egil's confession. He did not want for his daughter to get scared and shut everyone out.
"Yes, I know," the Alpha almost whined in annoyance. He glanced in the direction of his máni, again. She was staring at him, with wide, curious baby blue eyes. "How is she doing?"
"As to be expected," Viggo turned to stare at his daughter, thoughts swirling in his mind. "The bonding helped, she said she could feel, and even recognize her beast now."
Egil could only nod.
"But until she gets stronger and performs her first shift, she will not be able to identify your meaning to her fully," Viggo continued.
The Alpha knew this. Until her first shift, she would only have small hints of the bond that they shared. But he also knew that he could make her shift so much easier, if he was there by her side. With a heavy, regretful sigh, he gazed at Viggo again.
"Keep my máni safe, old man," and turned away. Each step felt heavier than the last.
Viggo returned to his child, and they spent rest of the day walking around. Iona told all there was to tell about her childhood, from her first words to her first time using a sword. She had a lovely childhood, Viggo gathered that much.
Reluctantly, she also shared what it was like to be the wife of Hall Gunnarson.
''At first, he was gentle and kind. Almost to the point of too much. Treated me well, kept his word about respecting my privacy. I performed my duties as a wife the very first night, despite my request to wait on the matter. He said that 'This is how it is done, my girl, do not make your husband upset,' so I laid still, not making a single sound. I suppose he was just waiting for me to lay down my guard,'' her words were barely a whisper.
''Did he, when did he first lay a hand on you?'' Viggo asked. He did not want to hear about it, but his beast was clawing towards the surface and he needed to know.
''A year or so in to our marriage. First, it was just few slaps here and there if I misbehaved. Then he began punching me if I refused to lay with him, but he did not go any further. Kicks came after that, he would kick me when I was already down. Then, one night he was drunk and already in a bad mood. He wanted to lay with me, I refused. I-,''
''Shh my child. You do not need to continue,'' the father said and pulled his daughter in to his embrace. Silent sobs escaped her lips, small tears flowed down her cheeks, escaping her eyes even though she tried to fight it. Her fingers reached for her father's tunic and glutched it with everything she had, in fear of going back there where she was not safe, free.
They stayed that way for a while, until the night began to reach them. Picking his daughter up, he helped her back to his log-build home. She was a tall one, and had muscle, he thought all the while carrying her.
Clearly she had enjoyed fighting back when she lived in the town. He would need to start her training soon, teach her to use her beast as well as weapons humans rarely used. They preferred bows, axes and swords. He would teach her how to fight with daggers, fists, feet and head. She would have to become one with her beast, think as one and fight as one.
She would bleed, cry and grunt. But it would all be worth it, for they would get their revenge together.
