The waves crashed against the wood of the ship and fell down upon me like heavy rain. I did not mind it, I was used to the cold after the long winter we had lived through. This was nothing compared to it.

And even though the winter had been colder and darker than most winters before it, I had tried to enjoy every moment of it, despite dreading this journey that had been decided for me against my will.

Even my marriage with Noora had been a pleasant distraction. The ceremony and the feast had been lovely, gathering folk from many villages and reuniting families and loved ones.

My parents were proud. My younger sister, Tofa, was happy to gain a new friend and sister, and Noora seemed to accept her new fate with grace and dignity.
That was four months ago, and it seemed like the Gods favoured us, because she was already carrying my child.

Surprisingly, Noora had cried by the shore as I was about to leave. Her pale skin was red from tears and her white hair tousled by the harsh winds. As a good husband I had tried to comfort her and promised to be back before our child was born. But that was for the Gods to decide, not me, and we both knew it.
Noora was my mother's choice, and since I hadn't said either yes or no, my mother had accepted Noora's father's offer, and I had eventually met the young woman and asked for her hand in marriage.

It was a good arrangement for both families. Noora knew this, and I knew it too.

She had glanced a few times at Freke during her first visit, and she had asked me of our relationship. There was no need for me to lie, everyone knew how close we were and I had told her from the start that I loved the Vitki.
I wouldn't really mind if she had a lover as well. I was happy to see her relieved by those words, and apparently there was a young man, a servant, who she wanted to bring with her to our house but I didn't bother to ask more of it.

I had shared my bed with her the first three nights and after that I had gone back to Freke. Lying in their embrace I knew I was lucky to have such loving family and friends, with the lone exception of my uncle.

And here I was, trapped at sea with the man whose lust for bloodshed was notorious. Luckily the one person that would keep me sane and that mattered the most to me was here with me. Freke was a safe harbour I could count on, whatever path I stepped into.

My wolf had even promised my wife that they would keep an eye on me for her. It was a nice gesture, but something tasted bitter about his acceptance towards my wife. Was it selfish of me if I wanted him to be jealous?

When I had first told them about my parents' wishes for me to marry they had instantly accepted it. And I had yelled at them for it, annoyed that they would accept the fate to share me with someone else.

They had calmed me back then, as so many times after, telling me that they knew that they carried my heart in their hands, and that they always would. No one could take that from us.

I peered down at Freke who was curled up by my side, their almost black fur warming most parts of my legs and my fingers kept combing through it to soothe both them and me.

Still, my heart was heavy and once again I reminisced about the time when I was a young boy. A time when I had discovered new feelings for my best friend and went to ask advice from the Oracle. She had listened carefully and finally she had given me a warning. She disguised it as the tale of the God Týr and how he had lost his hand to the Giant- Wolf Fenrir.

"Have you heard of Týr, the son of Odin?" She asked, and I instantly nodded my head. He was the God of war, law and honour, and I was named after him. "Your nemesis's most notable tale is how he lost his hand to the Wolf-Giant Fenrir, son of Loki," she continued as she gazed at me through the flames of the fire, centred in her home. "The Gods decided to raise the wolf pup in Asgard. But they knew the future of young Fenrir and let him stay as a way to try and control their fate, but no one other than Týr dared to go near the wolf out of terror. As such, Týr was the only one who dared approach the wolf to feed him." She smiled at me and shivers spread through my body to this day, as the tale was very similar to my relationship to Freke.

All the other children had kept their distance from the wolf when they first arrived at our village as a young pup. I was their one and only friend, and maybe I still am. The tale continued in a gruesome way, with Fenrir growing so quickly, Odin and the other Gods decided to imprison him to keep Ragnarök from happening.

Fenrir broke every chain the gods used to keep him imprisoned. Until they sought aid from the dwarves who forged the magical Gleipnir; an unbreakable chain made from six mystical materials: the sound of a cat's footfall, the beard of a woman, the roots of a mountain, the sinews of a bear, the breath of a fish and the spittle of a bird. Gleipnir was noted to be as thin and as soft as a silk ribbon.

When the Gods returned to Fenrir with the new chain, the wolf grew suspicious due to the apparent pointlessness of being bound with something so delicate. So Fenrir decided to test their honour, by having one of the Gods put their hand in his mouth as he was bound as a show of good faith that meant there was no deceit surrounding the silk chain. If they were lying, one of the Gods would lose a hand.

Týr silently stepped up and placed his right hand within the wolf's jaws. As Fenrir thrashed and kicked, Gleipnir only grew stronger and tighter. Realising he had been tricked, Fenrir bit off Týr's hand in rage.

My hand suddenly stopped moving through the thick fur and my heart started to ache even more. "My fate is my own," I whispered to reassure myself, "we are not them."

"Who are you talking to, Nephew?" The rough voice of Brokk penetrated my eardrums and gave me an instant headache. "Are you praying to the Gods for safe passage?" He snickered, "are you afraid to be swallowed by the deep masses of grey cold water and miss the opportunity to sit by Odin's side?"

"Aren't we all?" I muttered and tried to ignore him.

"I am your father's brother," he hissed close to my ear, "I know you are married now, all grown up, but you are still a boy when it comes to battle and sword wielding. If you are lucky you will learn a few things on this trip," he continued and I suddenly felt the urge to meet his eyes, and I did so with a calmness I didn't know I had within me. "I demand some respect," he said and as a response I only shook my head.

"You will gain his respect when you have done something to deserve it," Freke answered calmly in my stead and reached for their clothes that lay hidden from the damp weather, rushing to hide their naked body from the cold after they'd shifted to their human form.

"So, we're sailing to Norðr?" I asked to change the subject. A fight onboard the narrow ship was not going to be in our favour. "What happened to not fighting the neighbours?" I said and winked at my uncle, referring to a peace treaty I had heard my father and my father in law discuss a few weeks back.

"There is a man there - he stole from me and I want my things back," he muttered and I couldn't resist a chuckle, since the similarity to his behaviour and that of a small childs was striking.

"What did he take from you?" Freke asked curiously after they were fully dressed and sat themselves down in my lap to gain some warmth.

Brokk sighed and rested his shoulder against the thick mast, the weather had calmed now and we could finally speak in a normal voice, without shouting to each other. It gave me the opportunity to openly study the man standing in front of me.

He was a berserker, strong as an ox and stubborn as one, maybe less intelligent. It was a question I would soon get answers to, I thought with a chuckle.

He was not blond like my father and me, his features were darker, but not as dark as Freke. He wore a grim expression at all times, an evil smirk on his lips. His hair braided in three thick snake tails from the top of his head and down his back. The sides of his head shaved like mine, the skin surrounding his brown eyes darkened with coal like most of us did, the big difference was his clean shaved chin.

"You might not know this, but like your father I am in charge of a small village up north," he said and grabbed a small knife from his belt, picking at the dirt under his fingernails as he spoke.

I frowned at this, the pain he must feel had to be great. To wait all these months for the ice to break and finally go after his wife and get her back, or in the worst case avenge her. "I am sorry." I said truthfully, "I did not know this."

"No one does." I peered up at him and asked him why, and the answer I got gave me chills. "Because now I am nothing, I have nothing and I did not want your father to know that. Instead, you are going to help me get it all back, and more." He chuckled as he placed the knife back in his belt. "You and your powerful Vitk, will make me the new Jarl of Hroksholt."

- Norðr - Norway.