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[FIC] Vjorn's Homecoming [FIN]

Adrian Moss

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April 16th, 2009

Reider took his kit out into the night. It was later than most of the Set were out and he didn’t feel like skating with them tonight. He looked ragged in his leathers. His sleeping bag was slung on his back, tied around the front like a giant loop. He had it open to better camouflage his other gear. His bow he used like a staff to assist him as he skated away from the Venus.

If he were to admit it to himself, the women there scared him. Not just the sworn women that surrounded Sapphire, but the dancers who looked and said things to him. They called him ‘cute’ and ‘lover’ and a few even touched him on the chest and ass which really made him jump. It caused such confusion in him, this attention and he had to wonder why. It had happened before, in school, as socials but those had always ended in disappointment and frustration. At the club, things had gotten worse.

Now though he was free again; free to be him and free to explore in the quiet alone what he was becoming. He skated down toward the Fens, back to the woods were he found shelter in this thriving city. Soon he was carrying his board along with his bow and entered the shadows cast by the woods and the moonlight. His senses were sharper now. Though he couldn’t see in the dark, he could make out more details in the shadows and night. It was god-like, but Reider thought it was cool.

He found himself a food spot and rolled out his sleeping bag, pulled out his axe and knife, and readied his bow. His quiver was full and he had some photocopied targets for his practice. Reider stuck his knife in a tree several dozen years away at the edge of the water. He then took his bow and began moving about the trees, firing at the shots. He had done it on other nights but tonight he was on edge for some inexplicable reason. As he put that last arrow into the target’s bull’s eye he put a figure to that discomfiture. It was a large, white dog of some kind across the lake at the lake’s edge. It stood there watching Reider. When it saw the boy looking at him, it raised its head and howled.

Reider decided that the wolf was a bit unnerving so he went and began pulling his arrows out of the tree. He had to dig a few out with his knife and that took some concentration. When he looked up the wolf had dived into the water and was swimming across the lake toward him. He pulled on his arrows faster.

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Vjorn had been following the scent for months now. From the frigid Nunavut through the wild lands of Manitoba, Ontario, and Quebec he had traveled until he felt his paws would fall all. The directional sense that he had been allowed to borrow form the God of the Hunt told him in which compass point the Scion lay, but not the obstacles that lay between them.

He had to cross rivers and streams in the dead of winter. He had been honked at by cars crossing bridges. He had even been shot at by some yahoos with more firepower than sense. Idiots had been out hunting deer so he had killed a doe and scared off the other members of the herd miles away. The cold had been biting and there were several mornings he had to chew the encrusted ice from between his paws.

Other wolves had howled at his passage. Surely a pack would have taken in such a noble creature as himself. He would have ruled them as the Alpha he was. No, there was no such life for him though. He had come across the Great Bridge and the back ways to come to the lands of the Son of the Hunter. He would hunt giants and the get of Fenris with this noble companion and together they would be Legend.

Vjorn had barely noted that he passed into another petty human division – this United States. All he noted was that the road ran south and south was the direction he needed to go. Miles passed beneath him. He ate a yappy dog and some chickens along the way. Three days passed before he pulled down a yearling calf on some mortal’s dairy farm. He had eaten his fill rapidly before the human came out with his dogs and his guns. Being shot stung and it was not an experience he wanted to repeat.

Finally, at the edge of his endurance, he came to a place called Boston. He crossed the river that separated the river from the place called East Boston … which was north of the city. Vjorn found that strange, but humans were strange like that. He now could tell the target was moving. He could feel it in his mind moving south then west then south again. Sensing such things meant he was finally close and that the man wasn’t traveling some greater distance away … like he had done in his first week, when they should have met.

When he had come to the lake Vjorn realized he was close – really close. The man he was seeking was south and West and Vjorn had to make a choice. He chose south because that is how he had been going for so long. He trotted along the fragile remains of what must have once been a wooded land. Now it was just a wooded screen between the black rock the humans drove their steel boxes on and the body of water. He moved along the pathways and scared a few late night running humans. What surprised him was the casual way they treated him. One even called him a ‘good boy’ and Vjorn swore the man almost reached out and touched him. Vjorn was large. Vjorn was fierce. Vjorn caused fear in humans and livestock were ever he went. Vjorn was no pet!

Vjorn had also chosen wrong. When he came around to the south he could fell the man was no longer south, or west, but was now north of him. He walked to the edge of the lake and looked around. This was crazy. This was … the Man? Across the lake a man was shooting a hand-made bow with supernatural precision. He had to be the one.

Vjorn called out with a deep, meaningful howl that only a Hunter could understand. He was a brother and a fellow warrior against the foes of the Gods. The man didn’t’ respond so Vjorn jumped into the lake and began to swim across. The Man, no, the Scion was rapidly getting his kit together and then turned on Vjorn … arrow drawn. This made no sense. Didn’t he know? Was he about to get shot by the one he had come all this way to serve?

The Scion spoke. His voice wasn’t clear and brassy, like a great sounding horn. It was timid and frightened. Vjorn couldn’t believe it. His Scion was afraid? Then the words began to soak in and their meaning became clear. Vjorn nearly drowned. His Scion was also an idiot.

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Vjorn discovered that the Scion at least leapt like the son of a God. Now that he watched him on the board with wheels, he could see some of the art that his Father was famous for. It was a large ski without the snow… which was kind of clever. He hoped this One had been its creator, but doubted it.

Vjorn picked himself up from his failed attempt to slow the boy down and took after him again. The boy was kicking away for all he was worth and the Wolf picked out what he was aiming for. It was a club, with glowing letters on it – Venus. The boy would reach the door before Vjorn could catch him, but at least he would have him close by and maybe some time apart would allow the large canine a chance to figure out what to do. Could he really be smarter than his … Master? This was unheard of.

He slowed and let the boy get away. He did need his time. Going home was not an option. Not only would he be a failure, he didn’t know the road back. Following his old trail would do him no good. That wasn’t how it worked. No, he decided, he was stuck with this Scion and this Scion would be stuck with him. The smarter partner would have to figure out what to do, and that meant him.

A female came out and looked at him. She had one of those firearms and eyed him speculatively. Vjorn sat there attentively and remembered not to growl. Maybe this female was related to the boy. Vjorn couldn’t smell him on her, so they weren’t mates. Instead he had to wait and be patient. The woman went inside and time passed. An hour later the boy came out with his axe and knife. That was interesting. Vjorn studied his stance and it wasn’t bad.

Okay, he was mentally crippled but that was not something eternal (he hoped). Vjorn could deal with this. He knew he could. He didn’t have a choice. The boy made threatening motions, which were ignored. Instead, the wolf had a plan.

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Reider threatened this creature that was harassing him for no good reason. As far as he knew he hadn’t offended this dog, or a Dog Spirit, or whatever looked after the dogs of the world. All he wanted was this hostile thing to go away. He made some threatening motions and spoke to it.

“Go away Doggie. I don’t want to have to hurt you. Now, just go away.”

The Doggie lowered its white ears and wagged its great white tail. In a smaller dog this might have been comforting, but this was somewhat intimidating as its tail wagged up a storm. It emphasized how big the dog was. Reider was beginning to think this was not a dog at all. The Amazon had told him this was his problem and he had to deal with it, but he didn’t want to kill it.

The dog got up and Reider tensed. The dog waited a moment then walked forward. Reider held his blows at the last moment. Something in the back of his mind tickled some primitive response. The beast was being friendly. It came up and liked his knife hand. It followed that up by rubbing against the pommel side of the knife. Reider lowered his guard and rubbed the dog on its head with his axe hand. He leans down and the dog licks his face. Reider pulls up and says,

“Stay right here. Let me see if I can keep you.”

Reider runs off and gets Sapphire. Of course, two of her Amazon precedes her. This creature of legend after all. Sapphire takes one look at it and puts two and two together. She rubs him on the arm and nods in the affirmative. After all, if this supernatural wolf is somehow bonded to him, all the better for them both.

“Its okay, Boy. You are coming home with me. I think I’ll call you Bob.”

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‘Bob,’ Vjorn growled out. Well, wasn’t like he called him something like Snitzel. He followed Reider into the house … house-like building that smelled of women, oils, and sweat. It had other smells as well, but he smells of Sapphire held his attention. She was different but the case for the odors was overwhelming. He would have to be on his guard. He also noted the size and armament of some of the women. This place was a war hall, of sorts and the women were akin to Valkyries. It could be worse. Two scions were more likely to draw the notice of the titanspawn and that would mean fighting. Fighting is what he had come for.

Now to work on ‘Bob’. Didn’t anyone here speak to Wolves?

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