F E N R I R

The runestone was pocketed, if Fen wished for him to hang onto it then Iapyx would do just that. The words and promises were nice, but for now that was all they were - neither knew how the end would truly play out. They’d both been deceived by Gods before, and rarely did this world ever give its heroes a deserving end. Iapyx said nothing of this though, looking ahead wasn’t his strength, he preferred instead to enjoy the moment. They were both here after lifetimes apart, at any moment that could change. Iapyx could be sent back to Tartarus, or Fen to Gods knew where. The direwolf’s destiny was his own, but Iapyx was just a man adjacent to a legend. To greatness. “I hope you’re right,” Iapyx said as he stepped in towards the other, his hands slid against the other’s chest as he felt the steady thrum of the original’s heart beneath his palms. “we’ve only just found each other. I’m not ready to lose you again.”

-

Fenrir’s arms came to wrap around the manticore’s waist, pulling him flush against him as the other spoke. While death and murder was their favorite past time, there was another thing that he enjoyed doing with Iapyx. Even when he’d been an incubus, it’d been difficult for Fenrir to hold back when the other would need to absorb a soul to continue on. He wouldn’t have to follow after and murder them, instead remaining by the manticore’s side for eternity. “I could be right, but I would rather have the possibility of returning to you if I ever need to leave.” He put his hand on the other’s jaw, smiling now, “You could never lose me, hjarta. And I plan to show that in front of all the gods, too,” Fenrir claimed the other’s mouth with his own in a biting kiss, pushing the manticore back against a fallen stone, where he planned to have his way with him.

The rock was pretty, it felt alive also. Magical. Though Iapyx lacked the sense to know the breadth of the power that it lay within, if it was like a candle in the night then maybe there was some truth to what Fen was saying. Maybe it would be enough to draw the direwolf back to him when the end came at last. Still, it was not what Iapyx had asked. The manticore held it between his thumb and forefinger up to the light and watched as the sun refracted off the precious metals that had been pounded into the stone. He pictured Fen working over it, hammering into the stone with a hammer, it was a nice thought. “With Odin vanquished, will his seat in Valhalla not be left empty?” Iapyx questioned, if there was anywhere that Fen belonged it was there. Though Iapyx liked the idea that he’d be chosen over paradise. “A spirit with no body anchored to me forever- is that really what you want?”

-

Fenrir had infused his blood into the metal, and the runes within it were as ancient as he was. That was a story for another day, however, old magic that he would teach Dante as well, since Fenrir could only act out the magic, and it could be powered by the genasi’s magic. “Perhaps, but I am meant to die by his son’s hand. And the world starts anew, perhaps with Baldur at the helm. But for now, my body should remain here when I return. It shouldn’t go with me. Assuming I can return here, I should be able to inherit the form that was...well, given to me by Odin and Artemis.”

Iapyx was quite pleased with himself, this felt like the beginning of an answer for the man he loved more than life itself. “Is that the only reason why you brought me here?” Iapyx asked, curious. He took a step back from Fen as his dark eyes scanned the ruin they sat in the middle of. There was a feeling of nostalgia here, not for Artemis or her warriors who’d inevitably been the ones to kill him - but for what the ancient world had once meant to him. He was a part of it, though a small piece, he was still a piece. “It’s quite romantic.” Iapyx said simply as he looked over his shoulder from a pillar he’d been admiring, to the man who’d brought him here. “You’ll find a way. You’re the greatest man I’ve ever met.” 

-

Fenrir turned when Iapyx took a step back, and he gave a small smile as he looked the manticore over. While they always had their own space in Dante’s home, it was nothing like this. Where it was just them and nature, and an unspoken promise that had been from so many centuries prior. “I told you that I’d always find my way back to you. And I had – I ad a plan. For Ragnarök. When I’m killed, my body will die, but my spirit will run free. Whether that’s through the Ironwood, or perhaps Niflheim once more, I should have an anchor. And I want that to be you.” He held out his hand, a runed rock within his palm. Bits of metal with more runes were pounded into the stone as well, “I don’t know if it will work, but it is a possibility.”

“I thought I might find you here.” Dante greeted as he entered the forge he’d had constructed for Fenrir near the rear of his property. The original shifter deserved some manner of privacy, and this afforded him as much so he could attend to the craft he was so fond of. There was little that heat and force could do to metal that Dante could not do himself with magic, but it pleased his ancestor to keep to the old ways. There was something to be learned here too, Dante knew this. “The other genasi and I called Thanatos, he answered.” The earth genasi wasn’t one for wasting his words or mincing pleasantries, though keen interest trained his eyes towards whatever it was that Hakon was working now. “I asked him how to find your mother, and he told me I should be looking for Eggþér.” @hakonxlykos​

-

Fenrir hit the iron once more, the sparks flying off in different directions now before he heard Dante’s voice ring out above the sound of fire and metal. His task had nearly been finished, and while he’d already gotten the hang of making new and improved horseshoes, Dante now had a collection of axes and swords that he could do as he pleased with. “Dante,” he greeted, a smile on his face as he set the blade in the water, the steam coming off of it in waves. He looked at the other, frowning slightly at the danger it could’ve put Dante in, before his attention was pulled once more. “You asked about her?” Fenrir set the sword down, picking up his shirt and pulling it on now after using it to wipe some of the coal off of his face, “So to find Angrboða, he told you to look for the one who guards her wolves.” It was fitting, perhaps, but he put his hand on Dante’s forearm, gripping it tightly, “I’m in your debt, drengr. You have given me more than I deserve.”

ptolemasroar​:​

Both hands rest, palms down, on the counter behind her. They were talking about starting a war. About being the start of one. And not just a mortal war, but a war against and of the gods. There would be massive casualties on both sides. The thought has Ptolema wishing Selene was there. She would know what to say, what to do. “I’m with you both on this, whatever you decide. But think long and hard about what these decisions will lead us down.” She faces the original phoenix. “Especially you, Petrichor. This will lead to a lot of death. More than just what the destruction of the Veil caused. When the gods fight, they are not the only ones to die.”

She sighs, “As for genasi, Corinth is crawling with them. It won’t be hard to find one willing to help.” She pauses. “Not Dante. Our nephews have been through enough at our hands.” She thinks of Anders and the promise she made. “Have either of you spoken with them?”

@petrichorxathanasios​

-

“You’ve died before, brother.” Petrichor commented, “I would think that you would be used to it by now.” He would not let anything happen to Fenrir, over a thousand years they had been apart and now that he was back on this plain there was nothing that would separate the siblings again. “Your norns foresaw your death, but they said nothing of us.” He looked to Ptolema now, “Whatever happens we will stand at your side. Víðarr be damned.” 

“I’m not afraid of bloodshed, I’ll help those who deserve it, and those who stand in our way will have fire to answer to.” The phoenix said simply, he still considered himself above killing, but when it came to his family there was little that he would not do now. “Valkyrie might be inclined to help, she’s powerful enough too.” Petrichor added, though how willing the woman would be to participate was another question entirely. “I healed Anders when he came to the city, but I have not seen him since. Why?” Petrichor could not help but ask but there was something further. “I need to tell you both something. Selene, she’s back. Gabriel and Penelope resurrected her from Elysium, he told me that she’s staying with her now.”

-

“Death is definitely no stranger,” he murmured, meeting Petrichor’s gaze. When Ptolema spoke, he did not take his gaze away from his brother’s face. The phoenix would be reborn even if he met his death, but there was the greater risk of leaving this world and life behind when he had just began to build it. “That’s true – you have your own fates, Ptolema, too. But I know that I will do my best to keep you both safe before I can take down the gods.” 

Fenrir hummed, thinking of Valkyrie. She was his dear friend, but her involvement was not written. Not for the side of the dead, but for the side of Odin, perhaps. After all, the warriors she had led to Valhalla would meet their end with him – and he didn’t want to include Valkyrie among them. “Her fate might be written with Odin’s, Petrichor. Going against it would be – less than ideal. Especially for someone like her, no matter the hand Loki had in bringing her here.” He looked up at the mention of Dante and Anders, and he knew the truth behind the pointed question, “Anders is a vampire. I could smell the death on him when he comes to visit Dante.” Fenrir then turned his attention to Petrichor, his heart skipping a beat in his chest, “How is that possible?”

There was a familiarity, a divine presence to Hakon that took partially shifted Kit, entirely by surprise. The pain of shifting was pushed back, no longer his primary focus as gentle words from the stranger coaxed his ill-fated mind. His body felt exhausted, he just wanted to submit to the change and let the wolf takeover – but with the strangers commanding presence, he tried fighting back. His mangled and bloodied body, although mid shift, began to return to normal. Slowly. Tearing his gaze away from his audience to the ground, closing his eyes tight as he repeated the mantra Erik taught him in his head; as he didn’t think he could possibly get a coherent word out in his state. Swallowing down the wolf and the guttural growls that had previously taken over him. The beast put down for the time being. But now, as his body shifted back to normal, his body quaking and wounds closed from where bones had previously jutted - he felt embarrassed and pathetic in this strangers company. “I-” his voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “I’m sorry, that – that doesn’t usually happen.” 

-

Hakon bent down to Kit’s level, meeting the other’s gaze. It had been a while since he’d watched a werewolf go through the transformation, and the way their bones broke and the pain they felt – it was unnatural, but the curse was there to stay. To be a shifter meant it was part of your anatomy, but for the werewolf – it was magic imbued into their blood, and the pain was what was necessary. “Interesting. Were you bitten, or was this in your family?” He asked finally, curious if the wolf knew anything about his history. “My name is Hakon. What is yours?”

Though meddling magic has kept them apart for far too long, he would recognize Fenrir anywhere. He is older now, they both are, no longer the children who used to run around the forests of Jötunheimr. Though Hel remains in her domain, eventually she will join them as well on the field of battle, when Ragnarok has fallen upon this realm — then they shall all be reunited, and usher the world into a new dawn, one free of the gods. “The sight of your true form would cause this world to tremble. They do not know what good fortune they find themselves in.” He speaks as if there hasn’t been millenniums between them, the smile that sits upon his face rare as it is genuine. “One day soon, brother. Then everyone will see, and even Odin shall fall to his knees.” ( @hakonxlykos​ )

Gods. There are so many of them in this world. His mother’s Muslim faith in contrast with the Greek heritage the Lykos stem from, and Norse even further back than that. So many things he had been taught, and yet, it never quite felt real. Not until now. “Why would they do that?” He’s no longer in disbelief, but still curious. What would cause the gods to expel him from the afterlife, back into this world? The idea of being cared for feels foreign, his relationship with his family long since soured when Cihangir refused to conform to what they wanted — that Hakon would offer it so easily seems unreal. “You know Aydin as well?” 

“Killing isn’t always the only answer, Fenrir. You know that. If someone dares to harm those you care about, then that is their mistake, but you don’t need to do the same to them.” Those who wished harm on others certainly deserved comeuppance, but death was not one of those things. That was something that Scylla would never suggest as an option. There had been far too much death in the world for them to cause some of their own. Nevertheless, she looked down at the body that had been given to her. “I suppose my body was too decomposed. I’m sure I could have made it so it was not, but this was the body that Penelope and Gabriel found for me.” She brushed a stray piece of hair out of her face. “Did you know that incubus was to be married to our brother?”

Would that it was so easy, but the manticore was made of worry and fears that had never touched him before. Nightmares, the dark. Every time he closed his eyes he was back there, Typhon would never let him forget that his soul was for the pit. Someday, inevitable, he would be forced to return there. Fen made him feel safe, they were  constellation drawn together by the Gods themselves. And forced apart in the same fashion. Iapyx’s curious gaze watched and waited as Fen reached for one of Artemis’ broken pillars, when nothing happened the manticore felt himself release a breath that he did not realize he’d been holding. “I’m sorry.” He said instead, coming up behind the man Iapyx folded his arms around him and rested his chin on Fen’s shoulder. “Is there no one else that could help you reach him- your mother?”

-

Fenrir was silent, even as he felt the manticore wrap his arms around him. His arm came up automatically, resting above the other’s warm skin and keeping it in place. His thoughts were running wild, and he had little to go off of at the moment. After all, the old magic that the world had was gone – though perhaps with Dante’s channeling abilities, they could find a way together. “Angrboda...I haven’t tried to contact her. I have not heard from her, either. I don’t know what the gods did with her. And after Loki – I just don’t know. Maybe there is a way. Dante has learned the old ways, and maybe he can figure out something to connect me to her. I will ask him.”

The assurance was nice, Iapyx didn’t need Fen’s protection but he would accept it just the same. They had already been here once though, as an incubus Iapyx had not known what was awaiting him on the other side… And now that he’d seen it he would be sure to never venture so close to his own death again. “I’ll take you up on that.” Iapyx said instead, “you’ve always carried such a heavy burden.” The manticore liked to think that he lessened that weight some, their first meeting had captured the end of a long history of heroics and conquest. Battles and hunts that Fen had shared with his siblings. Iapyx offered… Something else. Peace maybe, and a place where the man behind the wolf could instead be just a man. “No one ever said your path was easy,” but Fen’s siblings had forgiven him, and now they were together again. “at least you won’t be alone. Whatever the outcome.” 

-

Fenrir managed a smile, though he hadn’t seen it as a burden. Not yet, at least. It was just how life was, and while he missed the ancient days of fighting with axes and using ravens to carry messages, this world did have its benefits. “Don’t worry about that, at least for now.” They crested the hill, now overlooking the ruins of the temple that had been situated up top. A temple to Artemis. “I feel...” he hesitated, placing his hand against one of the crumbled pillars, “...nothing.” Pulling his hand away, Fenrir furrowed his eyebrows, like his idea had failed, essentially. Perhaps he had been wrong – this was not his world. “I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to reach Loki outside of going back to Norway.”

Hurt. Iapyx shook his head. “I don’t think it’s possible to hurt anymore.” The manticore left, he was numb to all forms of torture. The Erinyes had seen to that, Typhon too. “But losing you-” Iapyx tried to find the words to articulate what he wished to convey but felt himself floundering and coming up short. “I don’t know if I could handle it.” Who would he be if he did not have Fen beside him? The original shifter was the stuff of legends, a man made of myth and destiny, but to Iapyx he was so much more than whatever his Norns had in store for him. He was the sun when it rose over the ocean, the scent of petrichor across the earth after it rained. “I hope she’s right.” Iapyx said instead, but he would not hold his breath for hopes and dreams. 

-

To hear Iapyx breathe such hope was surprising, to say the least. He knew the manticore was having to adjust to life as he was, but he also knew what Iapyx usually thought. Fenrir placed his hand against the other’s cheek, “I know you’ve already known suffering, but there is nothing I wouldn’t do to protect you, even from my own choices,” he murmured, finally dropping his hand to continue up the mountain. “Come. We can see if there is something worth waiting for at the top.” He turned away, walking up the path again. “My siblings have forgiven me – to an extent. Not sure what else they expect from me, but they want to help.”

“Oh.” He nodded. “Okay that’s good then.” Gold was good, the driver would live to drive another day. That was nice for him. The road to this ancient site that Fen spoke of was nowhere near, this must have been the old way though Iapyx couldn’t say it seemed in the least bit familiar to him. He was pretty sure he hadn’t been here before, but it was hard to tell. So much had changed. The manticore’s brow furrowed at the mention of Ragnarök. “Are you so quick to rush off to your death?” Iapyx questioned, his gaze had fallen to the path before him as he put one foot in front of the other. They’d only just found each other again, this world only made sense because Fen was here with him. Without the shifter… Iapyx didn’t know what he’d do. But if Ragnarök was real then the dire wolf’s death had to be as well. The manticore wouldn’t argue with him, or make any attempt to stop him, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. Dark eyes found Fen’s once more as they walked, “Always to eager for the next fight, it’s always the next battle with you.” The words were light, playful. Even if it spelled Fen’s doom it was one of the things that Iapyx loved about him. The manticore knew  a curse when he met one, he’d been scorned already by a God. Loving a man who was doomed to be his own destruction was no different.

-

The card was golden in color, so it had to be gold, right? Fenrir didn’t question it. Either way, he knew what Iapyx meant. They’d only just been reunited, drawn back together by fate. He truly believed in it, and while death was perhaps not the outcome he wanted immediately, he knew it had to happen in order to spit in the face of the gods. “No, I’m not,” he answered the question anyway, looking at Iapyx as they slowed to a halt. “My sister seems to think there is a way to avoid my fate. Yet this is what put Odin in the spot he is in, now. Trying to avoid his destiny. If my death allows me to break my prison, then I will. But I would not see you hurt because of it,” he murmured.

“You mean the driver doesn’t intend to wait for us?” Iapyx questioned, his gaze turned from Fen towards the man behind the wheel in the front seat. This arrangement didn’t really suit the manticore, what if he wanted to leave wherever they were going? How were they supposed to get back? “Now you’re just telling me what I want to hear.” Iapyx breezed, and it was working. Fen’s touch brought his attention back to the present and thoughts of impaling the man behind the wheel now behind him through the back of his seat fell out of Iapyx’s head. The manticore liked the thought of a blade of his own, magic or no they were very useful. Outside of the car his gaze traveled up the path, “Is it very far?” Iapyx asked, were it not for Fen the might have worried that they’d get lost, but he trusted him. More than anyone, with his life even. 

-

“No, we’ll get another if we need to. Don’t worry – Dante has given me his gold to get us from one place to another.” His nephew took good care of him, and Fenrir only hoped that his ability to teach him the old ways was more than enough of payment. Looking at Iapyx, Fenrir gripped the axe in his other hand as they began to walk. “No, not really. But I haven’t been in centuries. So I guess we’ll see if it has changed. For one, there is a much larger road. I feel like people make this pilgrimage without even knowing what used to be at the top.” He looked at the manticore once more, a smile on his lips, “This is where Artemis promised me that I would get both afterlives. I was thinking that now it could hold some weight for Ragnarök.”

“She’s still alive. Did it work?” Micah had to ask because the last thing he wanted was to cut the bitch’s head off and then see her pop up again because whatever brought her back before decided to do so again. “Her and her friends all have it coming. Every rift who had a hand in bringing down the veil. She’s just the only one with a history of dying.” Micah offered, Ptolema’s promise to her dead sister didn’t mean anything to him. He’d felt Scylla die, and yeah it was sad. Everyone saw what happened too, and that was pretty fucked up, but Medusa and her friends killed his boyfriend. There’d be hell to pay. 

-

“Of course it worked. But when Perseus died, the head on the shield crumbled to dust. Whatever magic is in play must be Athena’s, it was her curse that turned Medusa into what she was – or is, I guess.” Fenrir busied himself with his coffee, dumping sugar into the black liquid. “Scylla has returned, though. I don’t know if she would like the idea of you going against her will.”

“I had hoped you would be. We still found each other though. Didn’t we?” In the end, she would be brought back to all of them. Selene hadn’t intended to be, but she felt like she was the glue that kept Ptolema, Petrichor and Hakon together. It had been more of an ordeal after Fenrir’s passing, but she had always known they would be together again. In life or death. She had hoped that would have been the case when she passed that she would be there with her brother, but it was never good to think on the past. Looking upon the future of their lives was the best thing they could do. “How has it been for you since you’ve been back? I hope well?”