Bride of the Wolf King

Chapter 4

Brynhilda frowned but followed as Esbjorn turned. 

The trees around her groaned in an unseen wind, their branches rattling together like dried bones. She shivered and clung to Esbjorn's side, threading her fingers through the fur on his leg.

He glanced down at her and chuckled. "I can't move with you holding me. I suppose I could, but it would be a nasty drag through the brambles for you."

"Oh," she released him and smoothed her skirts. "Sorry."

She followed him back through the woods, staying as close as she dared to his massive paws.

At last they came through the tree line to see a grassy mound of earth. Brynhilda paused to examine the hill and realized that it was an sod house, like the kind her ancestors used to live in. She had seen them depicted on the castle tapestries. 

The building was long and narrow, built down into the ground with earth heaped up around the sides and up onto the roof. 

She was too tired to remark on the rugged beauty of the hall, but followed the large creature to the entrance. Just as she wondered how he would fit inside, he crouched, shifting and contorting. Brynhilda backed away, horrified as he convulsed once and shrank down to the size of a regular wolf, his head coming up to her shoulder.

"You could do that the whole time?" she asked, "why didn't you shift smaller earlier so I could hold onto you while we walked?"

He shrugged and nosed through the ancient wooden door. "The Lamia are not the only things that would like to eat you down here. They would not challenge me in my full state. Besides, I am much more handsome that way, wouldn't you say? More impressive, to be sure."

Brynhilda laughed wearily, her eyes already drooping as the warmth of the building seeped into her cold, aching bones. A spread of pelts, animal or monster she didn't dare contemplate, lay on one of the raised decks around the central firepit. Before Esbjorn could say otherwise, she collapsed into the warm embrace of fur. 

"Goodnight, Esbjorn. Thank you for saving my life," she said with a sigh. "And for not eating me."

"I may just eat you in the morning when I'm hungry," he said, settling down in the fur beside her.

Normally, she would have protested to a companion in her sleeping space, but she was too exhausted. Besides, it would be good to have a hungry wolf guardian watching over her in case the Lamia decided they wanted a midnight snack.

"No you won't," Brynhilda yawned, already drifting off to sleep. "You're just a friendly puppy. Besides, isn't it your duty to look out for me?"

"Aye, little one," he nuzzled her hair and licked her temple gently. With a sigh that was somehow full of a sorrow she didn't understand, Esbjorn rested his head on her shoulder, his warmth soaking into her.

Her dreams were filled with skeletal trees, a dark king, and warm, strong arms wrapped around her, a voice whispering "I truly am sorry, Kherasta min."

***

Brynhilda would have happily stayed in her cocoon of furs forever, Esbjorn's warm side pressed to hers, but the grumbling of her stomach was too loud to ignore.  A princess's stomach should never grumble. 

Traitor, Brynhilda scolded her belly as she rubbed at her eyes and rolled over. She peeked out through bleary lids in time to see Esbjorn shuddering and jerking beside her, like he had when he had shifted down from his larger form the night before.

"Ah," he reached his black paws out in front of him as his back curved in a bow, stretching, "you're up."

"Do you have any food?" Brynhilda asked eagerly as she looked around the long sod house.