Ever since his birth, his father had told him stories of the gods, teaching him to respect them. He would tell him of Odin’s travels around the world, with the company of the wolves Geri and Freki when the world was still young. He told him how Ask and Embla, from which all humans sprang, learned from the wolves how to cooperate in the hunt and to care after their kin. He told him of how Odin sacrificed one of his eyes at Mímir’s well in order to obtain wisdom, of Tyr, the god of victory and single combat and heroic glory, who lost his arm to the wolf Fenrir, so that the beast could be bound by the gods, of Skadi, the goddess of bowhunting, winter and mountains, and Loki, who ended up being bound until the day when he will face Heimdallr and they will end up slaying each other. He told him of the Valkyries, the maiden amazons that chose the dead in the battlefields and brought them to Odin’s halls in Valhalla, to stay there until they were called to aid the gods in battle on the Ragnarök. His father also taught him about the Norns, Wyrd, Skuld and Verdandi, that arrived when a child was born to determine her fate, which none, be it man or god, could escape.
He listened carefully to these tales, and lived his life by the gods’ example. For even they could be lonely, seeking comfort in the company of wolves, and he learned to treasure the company of his childhood friends, as they were raised together to become strong warriors, to protect and take care of each other as wolves look after their own. He learned the meaning of sacrifice, and the importance of seeking knowledge, as “wisdom is a poor man’s strength in a strange place”. He would spend hours on end watching the shipwrights work, learning about the making of weapons as well as their use, weaknesses and strengths, and even watching the bards, while his friends were busy throwing the javelin, sparing and swimming, calling him to join them and teasing him whenever he was caught practicing with the bow.
“Where is the honor of killing from afar?” they would ask, but he never paid them any mind. He figured that if Skadi, the shining bride of the gods, was fond of the bow, then it must have its worth, and one day, they would see his point.
So it was that at the age of twenty he had become a fine warrior, though far from the strongest among his people, armed with knowledge rivaled by few in their village, and his counsel was heeded in times of conflict due to his reputation as a brilliant strategist. And when the threat of the enemy drew too near to their land, his father the Law Giver, counted on him to lead the longships safely through the cold, misty sea into foreign shores to ambush their foes and make battle. He had sailed away with the calm that had earned even the most skeptical man’s trust, his confidence fueled by the presence of his lifelong friends at his side, off to meet their fate.
Their trust in his guidance was enough to appease his mind, their support making him feel ready for the most vicious fight. They had shared laughter and angry yells with one another like true brothers, played and spared in the snow, sat by the fire to listen to their fathers’ tales at night, mastered the sword, axe, spear and seax, hunted wild boars and fought countless battles together. He had shared the same table as those men, gathering around it to drink and hear them brag about battles and talk about women, happy to simply hear them with a smile. They had lived a good life, with no regrets and unafraid, embracing each moment whole-heartedly, so that, when their fate finally presented itself to them, they would accept it without hesitation.
When their longships arrived unexpectedly at pebbled shores, they descended ruthlessly upon their enemies like Thor’s mighty hammer, crushing them before they could even think of raiding their homes.
Long fingers gripped the bow tightly. Njördr glanced upon the battlefield with fierce resolve. In a well-practiced move, he quickly grabbed an arrow, loading it onto the bow and releasing before his enemy could even raise his blade. He happened to be an outstanding archer.
With a choked cry, he fell on his knees, dieing. Ári gave the man a split-second glance, not having noticed the approaching threat, before reengaging in the heated combat against the bulky warrior. A quick assessment of his eyes told him his bow would be useless at the narrowing range. Shouldering the weapon and finally unsheathing his sword, he joined his friends in their close-range fight.
From the corners of his eyes he could see Björg give him a quick smirk that he unceremoniously ignored, connecting his ancient family blade against another enemy’s. To his left, he heard a dying shout that sounded remarkably like one of their friends. Before he could even think of turning, three enemies came rushing at him, and he readied himself. Further back, among the trees, a shock of ethereal blue caught his sight and his eyes automatically froze on the vision. Her complexion was fair as snow and she bore a glistening silver armor upon her torso, shoulders covered by a heavy winter cloak made of fur. By her left side there was a massive wolf, and they both stood silently, her eyes deeply focused on him.
Njördr frowned. Skadi? What was she doing there? Everyone kept on fighting, undisturbed by the uncommon sight amidst such a bloody battlefield. Why was he the only one able to notice her?
Gracefully she mounted the wolf, eyes full of purpose, and he understood at last; her right hand, deceptively fragile looking, emerging beneath her mantle with a beautiful sword grasped firmly in it as she rode towards him behind his enemies. Gripping his sword firmly, he gave one last look to see a worn out Ári standing defiantly by his right, Björg joining them on his left with an equally unwavering look, and, in the same way they had lived, they moved together to make their stand.
“Lo, there do I see my Father,” he said aloud, after ducking beneath the blade and cutting the man’s head.
”Lo, there do I see my Mother, and my Sisters and my Brothers,” Ári continued, embedding his blade on the other man’s torso and quickly pulling it out just as Njördr blocked a blow meant for his neck.
”Lo, there do I see the line of my people back to the beginning,” Björg went on as Ári turned and cut his enemy’s side even as the man jumped back and away. They charged on together as more enemies crowded around them.
”They do bid me to take my place among them in the Halls of Valhalla, where the Brave may live forever,” Njördr finished with his brothers.
As soon as the man’s body hit the ground, a few more appeared and they kept on fighting, back to back as Björg got a little away to deal with the largest men. Even in the heat of the fight his eyes curiously searched for the blue strands whenever they got the slightest break. Where had she gone?
He heard a gagging sound behind him and felt the cold air as the warmth left his back. Turning back with lightning speed, he was just in time to see Ári’s knees hit the ground, a deep wound on his shoulder, and tumble lifelessly to the side. The other axe was already falling back heavily, placing itself deeply in his momentarily unprotected side.
Njörðr choked on his own blood as it poured out of his mouth, arms not staying their very last blow, even as his ears heard Björg roar in fury. His sword kept the momentum of his body when he turned, rising with his arm slightly to shoulder height, cleanly taking his enemy’s head off.
He felt his remaining friend, the last one of them, making his way back towards them, but it did not matter. From the corners of his green eyes he watched his friend’s prone form, still and lifeless.
‘May you live forever, my friend...’
He choked and vomited blood, his vision failing, a blurry blue shade in front of him before all went black. His lips curled in the faintest smile.
Fate has to catch up some day.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Disclaimer: I don't own Sailor Moon.
A.N.: according to my sources:
Skadi - ("Harm") Daughter of the Jotun-Giant with winter, mountains, skiing and bowhunting. She brings the snow which insures a good harvest and she leads the Wild Hunt. The wolf and poisonous snake are sacred to her.
Njörðr ("Stiller-of-storms") Vana-God of seafaring. The Vanir were associated with fertility, wisdom and the ability to see the future. He controls wind, stills sea and fire, and lives in Noatun ("Boat Town"). He was briefly married to Giantess Skadi who picked him for his beautiful feet, by mistake, thinking he was Balder. Njördr and Skadi could not agree on where to live. She didn't like his home, and he didn't like hers, so they split up.
Gunnr - ("Battle") A Valkyrie who rode a wolf. ;)
