Torn form Destiny

Sunlight pierced through the gaps in the forest canopy, its dazzling rays teasing my eyelids, reluctant to open from the dreamscape.

"Hmm...mhnmm..."

I groaned, my hand fumbling for something—or someone—that should have been beside me. But I found nothing, and a frown creased my brow as I drifted halfway between sleep and wakefulness.

Panic surged through me as I realized my beloved raven was nowhere to be found. Jolted awake, the remnants of drowsiness vanished, replaced by unease over my feathered companion's whereabouts.

"The raven!" I exclaimed, sitting bolt upright. "Where is he?!"

I shot up and scanned my surroundings with sharp eyes, searching for the raven who had nestled in my embrace last night. But no sign of him.

"Raven, where are you?" I called out loudly.

Cupping my hands to my ears, I strained to hear the faintest sound—perhaps the flap of wings or a familiar caw. Nothing. Not even a whisper of his presence.

Sniff, sniff.

Undeterred, I tried to use my keen nose to track him down. But again, there was nothing. The breeze must have swept his scent away.

"Damn it, when did he leave? Why can't I pick up his scent?" I grumbled in frustration.

Anxiously, I began searching the area, but I had barely taken nine steps when the clinking sound of chains stopped me in my tracks.

"Curse you, Gleipnir! You won't even let me search for my friend!"

I thrashed and pulled against the chains with all my might, muscles taut and trembling as I tried to break free. My teeth clenched, and my jaw tightened, pouring every ounce of strength into the futile effort.

"Ugh... heavy... damn it!"

But no matter how hard I tried, the enchanted chains only tightened, reminding me of their unyielding grip. I was too weak—still too weak to shatter Gleipnir.

"Tch, it's useless. I'm not strong enough to break this cursed thing."

Dragging myself back to the rocky bed I called my resting place, I sat cross-legged, head tilted back to gaze at the lazy clouds drifting across the sky.

"So... all I can do is wait," I muttered bitterly. "Boring!"

Yet, even as I waited, a strange sensation gnawed at me. An inexplicable yearning that tugged at my chest.

"Strange... what is this feeling? I just want to see him again..."

The image of my raven flashed through my mind, his sleek feathers gleaming under the sunlight. The thought made my mood even worse.

"Hurry home, you dumb bird!" I shouted, my voice echoing through the forest, carried by the gentle wind. I hoped my words would somehow reach his ears.

****

Is someone calling me?

I turned my head, feeling as though the wind had whispered my name. But the woods were silent, and I shrugged off the odd sensation, returning to my hunt.

Since slipping away from the warm embrace of the wolfish girl this morning, I had been scouring the forest for food to fill my stomach. Bugs, fruits, small prey—anything to stave off hunger.

Now, two mice lay beneath my claws. A small offering, perhaps, but I wanted to bring this fresh catch back to Fenrir as a gift.

The sun climbed higher, its rays warming my feathers. It was time to return. Hopefully, she'd appreciate my little gesture.

But as I spread my wings to take flight, a strange thought struck me.

Wait. Isn't she a wolf? Or a girl? Would she even like these mice?

The image of a beautiful girl biting into raw, bloodied meat crossed my mind. The absurdity made me hesitate.

Does she eat like a human because she looks human? Or does her appetite lean more towards her wolfish nature? I couldn't shake the curiosity.

****

An hour had passed since I woke, waiting for my raven companion. Time dragged on, each second an eternity. Frustrated, I rolled across the snow, growling softly under my breath.

"Curse you, Gleipnir!"

I glared at the chains that had bound me for years—Gleipnir, the magical fetter forged by dwarves from unknown materials. They said it could never be broken, not until my death.

For now, all I could do was stare at the sky, my heart heavy with longing. Still, there was no sign of his return.

"He's taking forever..."

I sighed deeply, my thoughts wandering to the first time the raven approached me. It was the first time any creature dared come near, and it brought a strange, unspoken warmth.

"That raven," I murmured, my tail swishing absentmindedly. "When he comes back, I'll make him my favorite pet."

Before he appeared, I had always been alone. The aura of destruction surrounding me scared away everything and everyone. But since his arrival, the solitude felt less suffocating.

"Why do I feel this way?"

I sprawled on the ground, staring at the sky. The clouds looked so carefree, unlike the turmoil inside me.

The rustling of leaves snapped me out of my reverie. My nose flared, catching a familiar scent.

"He's here!"

I sat up eagerly as the raven swooped down, two mice clutched in his talons. He landed gracefully before me.

"Finally! You're back!"

"Caw... caw," he called out, dropping the mice at my feet.

"You... you hunted for me?"

"Caw."

Though I couldn't understand his words, his intention was clear. I grabbed the mice and smiled.

"Thank you!"

My tail wagged in delight as I devoured the fresh meat, savoring its taste. Occasionally, I wiped the thick blood trailing from the corners of my mouth.

Mid-bite, I noticed the raven staring at me, his gaze unwavering.

I frowned. "Why are you looking at me like that?" I asked, still chewing. "Never seen a beautiful girl eat?"

His expression turned sour, and I narrowed my eyes.

"What's on your mind, huh?"

He didn't answer. Instead, he flapped his wings and perched on a nearby branch, observing me from above.

I pouted at his behavior. "Somehow, I feel insulted by your indifference."

A wistful smile tugged at my lips. Deep down, I wished we could understand each other better, laugh together, share our thoughts.

But I knew it was impossible. He was just a raven, and I—a feared Jotun. How could we ever bridge that gap?

"Caw... caw."

"Hey, what is it?" I turned to him as he let out a sharp caw.

Without a clear answer, he suddenly spread his wings and flew off.

"Hey, where are you going? Don't leave! Stay here, you dumb bird!"

"Tch, where is he going now? What's on his mind? How can you just leave me like that?!"

Puffing out my cheeks, I scowled at his retreating figure. No matter how much I wished otherwise, I could only watch as he disappeared into the distance.

"I'll definitely leash you one day, you stupid bird," I muttered under my breath.

*****

[PoV ???]

The grand hall always made me feel small, no matter how many times I had walked through it. Towering marble pillars and walls adorned with golden tapestries, marked with symbols of majesty and grace, surrounded me in overwhelming splendor.

Yet, all that beauty could not dispel the unease tightening in my chest as I gazed at the man I loved, sitting pensively on his magnificent throne, his face clouded with discontent.

His expression was unusually somber, so unlike his usual self. I could feel his anxiety—his aura of wisdom, usually so radiant, now dimmed, replaced by a troubled, downward gaze.

I couldn't bear to see him like this. With light steps, I approached him and wrapped my arms around his shoulders, hoping my embrace might ease his tension. I could feel the rigidity in the muscles of his face.

Leaning closer, I whispered softly into his ear, "What troubles you, my husband?"

He turned to me. His tense expression softened, sending a warm thrill through my heart. Yet, behind that tenderness, I could see the storm raging in his thoughts.

"My wife," he said gently, as though the words were a heavy burden. "It seems... someone has altered the course of fate."

I tilted my head, unsure of his meaning.

"Someone has meddled with the destiny of Fenrir, the wolf-girl we sealed away," he continued, his tone grave, the seriousness of it squeezing at my heart.

My face paled at the mention of that name. Fenrir—the being we had sealed away long ago because of her fated destruction.

What would become of this world if someone dared to interfere with Fenrir's destiny? This could bring chaos, not only to Asgard but to all realms.

"But how could this happen?" I asked, my voice trembling. "Who would dare to do something so reckless?"

"Shhh... not so loud! Someone might hear us." My husband placed a finger to his lips, cautioning me to lower my voice.

I immediately fell silent, realizing the gravity of the situation. The cosmos knew well the prophecy of destruction tied to Loki and Angrboda's children. That was why everyone feared and despised them so much.

Perhaps my husband intended to keep this news hidden to prevent panic among us, the gods.

"I don't know the full details," he sighed, "but one thing is certain—we must act swiftly before it's too late."

I nodded in agreement, even as my mind swirled with unanswered questions. "So... what is your plan, my husband?"

He exhaled deeply, as though trying to unburden himself. "I will send some gods to check on Fenrir," he explained, his voice trembling. "If there's anything unusual about her, I won't hesitate to take further action."

"Then... who will you assign to this task?" I asked, though fear gnawed at my heart over what his answer might be.

"I haven't decided yet. But I will send a few younger gods to investigate her condition."

"Why not send our child? It would be a good experience for them," I suggested, though a mother's worry still lingered in my chest.

"No. They're too young. I won't risk something happening to them."

I nodded, recognizing the truth in his words. "Perhaps you're right," I murmured.

For a moment, we sat in silence, sharing the weight of our unspoken fears. Slowly, I wrapped my arms around his shoulders once more, holding him tightly, hoping to offer him some measure of peace amidst the storm surrounding us.

"I love you, my husband," I whispered, soft and sincere.

"And I love you, my wife," he replied, his voice warm though still tinged with unease.

We shared the quiet together in the grand, empty halls of Asgard. For a fleeting moment, it felt as though the outside world was nothing but a distant shadow.

Unbeknownst to us, a black raven watched from the window. Its beady eyes gleamed with satisfaction as it listened to our conversation. With a silent, knowing smile, the bird spread its wings and soared into the blue sky, vanishing from the palace unnoticed.