The Viking's Beast

Frelsa

The wolf made his way through the town in his human form.

Every once in a while, he would turn and hide in the shadows, so he would not be seen. Humans, specially vikings did not take well to strangers in the dead of night.

The town always seemed to come alive during daylight, and the bay area would be filled with merchants from down South. The only ones brave enough to come up North. Now, the town seemed almost out of place.

There were voices, distant voices. Music, laughter, shouting and even moaning was heard from all over the town, but the streets were almost empty.

Viggo knew where the Jarl's house was, so he tried to get there as unnoticed as possible. Smells drifted into his nose, but one truly caught his attention.

Blood.

The smell was mixed in with his daughter's scent, and he growled at the thought of her being hurt so badly blood had spilled. Growl escaped from the back of his throat before he could stop himself, and his arms began to shake. Pulling his beast back, he held the very thin strings for dear life. Now would not be the time to lose control, it would not do good for anyone.

Picking up speed, he focused on his senses of smell and hearing.

"She's useless now. Throw her and the abomination away."

The voice stilled him. He knew who it belonged to, but the voice was not the cause of his stress rising. The words brought fear into his heart, and he started to prepare himself for the worse.

Finding a place in the shadows just outside the Jarl's house, he observed.

Two women, one of age and one of youth carried his daughter out of the house, and he felt his eyes starting to tear. A young boy, skinny boy, followed behind them holding a little bundle of fabric. They gently placed Viggo's daughter down on the ground, and the boy gave the bundle to the older woman.

"Oh you sweet baby boy. I am sorry we could not save you, or your mother," she said to the little bundle, and placed it down beside Iona, and placed her arm around it for protection.

"Mother, are you sure there is nothing we can do for her? She can not just die like this, out here, abandoned!"

Viggo had heard enough. Stepping out of the shadows, he made is presence known. "She will not be abandoned."

The two women and the boy turned around, scared for not realizing they were not alone. Shaking, they tried to cover Iona's body from vision.

"Who- who are you?" the younger woman dared to ask.

"I am his father, and I have come to take her away," Viggo spoke the truth. Taking large steps towards his daughter, he could still hear a faint heartbeat. A strong, but a faint one. With a growl, he demanded answers. "Now, tell me what the fuck happened!"

The boy could not stand any longer, and ran away, crying. The elderly woman took a brave step forward and gave Viggo a sympathetic frown. "Jarl Gunnarson was drunk and by accident, made my lady fall on her stomach."

Another growl escaped Viggo, and he pulled back just enough to not reveal his sharp fangs, or his glowing blue eyes. A nod was all he gave to the woman, as a signal to proceed.

"She- she knew right then and there that she would lose the child if something was not done. She demanded us to cut the baby out and worry about nothing else.

"She- oh Gods... She bled so much. I tried to get the baby out as quickly as I could, but it was too late. The baby was already dead and I could not revive it. Jarl Gunnarson got so angry at Iona for failing him, he stabbed her in the chest. Afterwards he told us to get rid of her and the chi-"

"The abomination. Yes, I heard. But she is not dead, not yet. I see her chest rising, only little but enough for me to maybe be able to save her. Do not tell the Jarl about me, tell him you buried her in to the Woods with her baby."

He sent them away after that, and gently made his way to his daughter.

"My sweet child. I am so sorry for failing you," he caressed her cheek before placing the small bundle on top of her stomach, and placed his hand under her back and knees.

With steady feet, he lifted her up so as to not cause her anymore pain, or for the bundle to fall. He will give his grandchild a burial, no matter the father.

With both his child and grandchild in his arms, he took off in a run towards his pack.

The few hours it would take to reach it seemed to last for days again. The weight of his little girl and the dead baby felt nothing compared to the weight of guilt in his chest.

He had failed her. He had failed his daughter by not finding her sooner, by not coming for her before she was forced in to a horrible marriage, by not taking him with him when he saw her across the fjord on the day of his máni's burial.

He soon reached the border of the pack territory. Wasting no time, he continued his journey until he was met with the hut of the völva.

"Gudrun!" he called for the witch. The elderly woman ran for the opening of her hut, only to see Viggo carry a young woman in his arms. "Save her!"

That was all that needed to be said, before Gudrun showed him where to place her and she began her work.

Saddened by the little bundle, she felt for the childs life, but found none. She would have tried to bring it back to life, but felt as if the child had been gone for too long already.

She did not know this girl, but from the way Viggo began to pace around her and the lifeless girl on her dining table, she assumed she meant a great deal to him.

Mixing her potions and flicking her wrists, she tried to calm the ulfhednar in her hut, down. "Is she your máni?"

Viggo scoffed. Could the old witch not see how much younger Iona was compared to him? "No. She is my daughter. My máni left me with a new born girl many years ago. I found my child later, in her teens and wed for Jarl Gunnarson. My máni, her mother died a few moons ago."

Nodding her head, the völva turned her full attention in to the task at hand.

Saving the young, red headed woman from the grasps of Hel.