Note: This is inspired by, but not a perfect historical representation of any culture. I did my best.

Chapter Text

Hundreds of Years Ago...

Skalds need a lot of things to spin a good tale. The first and foremost is the ability to hold their mead.

The far too tipsy fox vaugely pointed at a line on the page. "See? Here's where the... It says Moses parted the red sea and... And..." He blinked.

I muddled my way through the hebrew, clawing what I could into a bark strip. "And now he's giving a speech... Again." I raised an eyebrow at the little red man. "You know, for someone who burnt his tongue so badly he sure talks a lot."

The tiny Jew glared at me. "This is the holy writ of god!"

I eyed him smugly over my tankard and took a sip. "Sure."

I know, I know, I was treading dangerous ground. Mixing mead with religion was a sure fire way to start a fight at the best of times. And when your drinking partner had a different creed...

Fortunately Herschel was the easygoing type, and Astrid came to my rescue shortly. The gorgeous reindeer with the silken white coat plopped down a plate of absolutely sumptuous smelling roast chicken and turnips on bread trenchers in front of us. She smiled at the fox. "I know you're feeling better Herschel, but you should eat. One needs to keep up their strength."

Another reason it was good that Herschel was so easy going and friendly was that winter had sealed him in after a hard fever had delayed his return. Now he was stuck with us pagans for a while.

He sniffed at the offered food and smiled. "Astrid you are an artist! Is that the pepper I smell?"

The reindeer smiled. "Indeed it is. You know I must place a larger order next time, the Jarl is very pleased with his new meals."

The fox shook his head. "Bah, so many people in my travels insist on piling pepper to the roof, scalding the flavor away in hot pans or using such faint whispers you can't even taste it." He took the peppered chicken leg in his paw and bit down, eyes closing as he savored the flavor. "But the way you use it... Oh it's just delightful."

She shot him a flirtatious smile. "You know, if you bought my freedom you could have that cooking in your home every night."

"Among other things." I added, winking and drawing Astrid's hoof close, running a claw sensually down her wrist.

The trader winced. Suddenly it felt like all levity had been drained from the great hall. "I'm sorry. You know I can't do that... God forgive me for even being here."

My expression fell. I felt Astrid's hoof tighten its grip and I gripped back. I bit my lip. "I know we've talked about it before, but seriously. It would work. We would even follow your God."

The merchant sighed, eyeing his dinner ruefully. "I know your intentions are good, but trust me. It wouldn't be right, for so many reasons I can't even count them."

I had to admit, my heart fell hearing that, right along with my ears and my lover's.

Foxes were not my type. In fact I wasn't sure I'd found a type other than Astrid...

But Herschel was a good man. He wasn't like those other red wool shagging Westerners. He defended his own faith, but he never mocked ours. He had plenty of gold... And he was kind.

You couldn't ask for more than that from a man.

"Why don't we just continue with the language lesson?" I said, attempting to defuse the tension.

He shook his head, but he managed a bitter smile. "A few more hours of 'language lessons' with you and I won't have any morals left. Is your uncle awake?"

I sighed and shook my head. "He's sleeping."

He shrugged. "Oh well, give him my best. Have a good night miss Astrid." He took hold of his trencher and got to his feet, somewhat unstably. "And Sigrid... I'll see you tomorrow." That said he stumbled off. "They are good women God." He muttered as he left. "Please forgive their sins."

Sometimes I regretted how sharp my ears were. I let out a sigh and started stacking up the bark strips in front of me. Hebrew was meant to be written with a pen, and I couldn't say my claw strokes were elegant, but I was getting better. Soon I'd be able to put my ballads on stone, maybe even compose a saga or two on traded paper.

Perhaps preservation of his greatness in the physical would be enough for Jarl Fair fur to grant me another arm band. I only needed... Sweet Odin, four more.

Astrid put a hoof on my shoulder. I leaned into it. Feeling its press on my cheek. Oh blessed Valhalla, to stay like this forever...

She had obligations, as did I. Our time together was always cruelly short.

The doe frowned. "I'm sorry. I know what you're going to say. I shouldn't have pressed him."

I groaned, pulling her down to the bench and nuzzling her. "Asty it's okay, it's not like we don't have other prospects. I might even be able to scrape enough together to buy your freedom myself soon." I forced a smile.

She shook her head at the obvious lie. "Five gold arm bands won't fall from the sky, and the Jarl will never let you go raiding. Your uncle is too precious."

I took her hoof in my hand and pulled it close in a promise. "We will get you out of here. I swear on my life."

She smiled. It was sad, but real. "I know you will. " She pulled her hoof away. "Keep warm. The Jarl will expect me back with his mead." That said, she turned tail and marched off, serving tray in hoof.

I watched her go, eyeing the brand burned into her neck with renewed hatred.

It wasn't fair. Astrid was a proud and capable Norsewoman, so what if she was a deer? If the by blow of a drunken raider like me got to be free why didn't she?

Of course, the answer to that was obvious. I had Uncle Ivar, that and deft harper's claws... but mostly Uncle Ivar.

I sighed and took a long draught of my mead. I wasn't going to get much more done tonight. It was unlikely I'd be called upon as Gudrun had his flute out and the whole Mead Hall was listening keenly to his musical mediocrity.

I tapped idly on the table top, drumming out the beat to a saga no one would ever tell, about the love between a stupid red wolf and a goddess with antlers.

I probably would have spent the whole night eating chicken and mumbling rhymes under my breath, but I was not three stanzas in before the door to the hall burst open.

A ruckus overtook the entire building. The village had gathered themselves against the deep winter chill, so it could only be one wolf.

Ranveig the Eagle Eyed looked like he'd just seen the dead rise up. "They're coming!" He shouted. "The Red Wools are just over the rise!"

Jarl Fair Fur slammed his axe into his table, snuffing out the inevitable panic before it began. He rose to his feet, the white muzzled warrior still tall and strong. "How many?"

Ranveig gulped. Not two days ago he'd been telling me how mad the Jarl was for posting a winter watch. "At least a hundred strong... They have traitors with them."

A hushed whisper ran through the hall at that. Even Herschel had cause to fear those that bore the cross.

My mind was a blur. The Jarl was shouting orders, but I could barely make out what he said. I got up and charged for the kitchen. I had to get to Astrid. I had to-

"Sigrid!" The Jarl called.

I froze. I had not managed to get three steps.

I turned to my lord and bowed. "Yes my Jarl?"

He gestured to me, axe in hand. "Call up Ivar Quick Claw! We shall have need of him."

He wasn't wrong. I shouted into my head. Uncle! Uncle! Wake up!

Eh? What is it? Came his voice in my head.

The Red Wools are here! In winter! Please, we need your axe."

I could feel the grin in my head and my Riastarthe surged as my body shifted, bones cracking as they grew longer and my muscles strengthened.

In moments, the legendary warrior stood before the Jarl. I watched through his eyes as he smiled. "Well then my lord, who's blood would you have me let?"

#

The Present

I failed.

I hugged my chest with tiny rabbit paws, feeling a lump form in my throat. I had failed and Ivar was gone and for some reason my mind was so muddled I could barely even remember Astrid's face, much less my own name.

The fox warrior pulled out his gun and pointed it at my head. "Get out of Judy's body. Now."

I eyed the weapon. Judith had seen plenty of them. Terrible fire spitting things that could fell great foes with ease.

I could only pray it would be enough. I took the weapon in my paws and lowered it to my forehead. "Please... Just do it."

The fox flinched. "What!?"

The others were rousing. The shield maiden (Fangmeyer was her name, I think) bolted over. "Nick, what the hell?"

The fox pulled his gun back, staring at me in horror.

I laughed, tears streaming down my face as the madness of the situation and the bubbling pool of Riastarthe within me brought me to tears. "I'm fucked. Fucked. Fucked, fucked, fucked..."

The language's catalogue of swears was pathetic. Or perhaps simply this rabbit's was. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered. I gripped at the ground, sobbing. "Dead... I'm dead!"

There was a rumble through the floor. I froze.

The giant, the elephant rose to her feet, a bizzare tentacle protruding from her face and a body so large it cast a shadow upon us from far across the mirrored hall where we rested.

I could not read its expression. It advanced on me and I pressed against the wall, cowering in terror. I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Oh odin, what nightmare is this!

I started crying again. Everything about this was wrong!

The warriors had me surrounded... But they made no moves to crowd me. The white shield maiden got low to the ground. Kneeling down and holding out a paw. "Hey... It's okay. It's Fangmeyer, remember me?"

I eyed her paw warily, keeping close to the wall. If it was a trick...

Oh, what did it matter. I sat down, defeated. "Please just kill me."

The elephant raised an eyebrow. "Okay, I feel like I missed something here."

"Don't listen to it!" Came a bellow.

The crowd turned to see the chained grey wolf glaring at me. "Get the hell out of my friend you demon!"

I met the glare, dead on. I had seen eyes like that before. They were something I could handle. I gripped on to the familiarity of the situation and forced myself to my feet. "Listen well you Red Wool fucking Westerner. I am no demon! If there's any demon here it's you!"

I started advancing on him. "Is that why I'm here? Is that your barbaric torment? Throw me into the body of a bunny with your foul magics to torment me after death?" I gave him a solid harrumph and raised my eyes above him in contempt. "I knew you Westerners were weak cowards, but I didn't know you were petty in your perversion."

To my surprise, the grey wolf blinked. "What? What are you talking about?"

"Yeah, that really does seem to be the question of the hour." The elephant began.

The white wolf started walking towards me, slowly. "Why don't we just all sit down and-"

"Shut up!" I turned on the other three and slammed my foot down, shattering through the floorboards with riastarthe infused strength.

The moment I tapped it I wanted to do more. Draw out all of my energy and tear this lot to pieces. I'd smash their skulls! Devour their flesh! I'd...

I froze. And then what? What was I even doing? Killing out of riastarthe infused rage like some aimless mad dog? Fighting for a family that I no longer had. I crumpled down on the broken wood, splinters digging into my trousers. I had no hope. No future. I was just a ghost in a strange world.

The fox walked up to me, eyeing my up and down. "So... You seem like an actual person right? Not some weird spirit thing?"

I snorted. "More or less, probably less." 'Weird spirit thing' was actually fairly apt.

Nick held up his paws, throwing on a merchant's smile. "Okay, we can work with that. First question: is Judy alive?"

I gave him an incredulous look. "Of course she is! We're bound at the soul you nitwit. What, you think I could exist if she didn't?"

He smiled. I could see the mill in his little fox head turning. I suddenly felt like I was bartering for books again. "Good, very good. Now, why are you in control of her body?"

I stared at him. "Because she's asleep? For pity's sake don't you know anything about ancestor-" I paused. Oh. Right. Westerners.

I gathered myself into a half hearted story telling pose and spoke to him as I would a child. "Ancestor spirits are the spirits of dead wolves who had powerful souls. Usually they go to Valhalla, but sometimes they come back to watch over their clan, strengthening the souls of their descendants by binding to them and empowering them with riastarthe."

He nodded. I saw the elephant take out what I can only assume was a priceless pad filled with pure white paper and start taking notes.

I grimaced at the waste, but went on. "Once a soul is bound, the only way the spirit goes away is if you kill them... Although considering the circumstances," I gestured to my ridiculous rabbit body. "It seems likely that thrice damned, soul chewed Red Wools can tear apart souls and shove them into whoever the fuck they want."

Nick nodded. "I see... Okay, so. That's interesting." He pented his fingers, kneeling down to meet me. "It just so happens that the bunny you're 'bound' to is a friend of mine. Are you saying the only reason you're controlling her is because she's asleep?"

I thought on that. "Well... Technically I could wrestle control from her even when she was awake, but it would be both a pointless struggle that she could well win and very rude." I sighed. "You know this is supposed to be an incredible, empowering thing? Having proved your worth enough to be an ancestor spirit, gaining one as a sign of your potential..."

I kicked at the pile of shattered wood. "And now it's some stupid nightmare. Thanks to you." I snapped at the wolf chained behind me... With buck teeth it looked rather ridiculous.

Nick put a paw to his chin. "Okay... So, were you the one making Judy angry?"

I narrowed my eyes. "No! Of course not you nincompoop, it's..." I bit my lip. Breathe in, breathe out, just like Ivar taught you. "Sorry, it's a side effect of the Riastarthe. Drawing upon the power of battle rage can make one's temper flare, but I admit it seems to be burning hotter than usual."

In fact, it was strange.

The riastarthe flowing into me was small, the bunny did not have much warrior's blood in her after all, but for some reason it was pooling.

I experimentally strengthened a muscle in my arm. More riastarthe flowed in instantly. In fact, more than the riastarthe I'd used.

My eyes went wide. Something was wrong with my channels. That could get, very, very bad. "Okay... We may have a problem."

"You think?" The elephant asked, narrowing her eyes. Her shield maiden companion shushed her.

The mill in Nick's head was clearly turning again. "So... is Wolford right? Is she, or you, or both of you going to be consumed by rage and start tearing the world apart?"

I thought on that. If I drew on more and more riastarthe, and my body kept filling up and up and up faster than I could burn it off...

I gulped. "Oh sweet Odin he's right." I turned to the fox, now even more panicked than before. "It's alright though! We just need to get to an herbalist and borrow a few chains. We'll be fine.... We'll be fine."

The warriors were completely lost. The first to speak up was Fangmeyer. "Uh... Why do we need an herbalist? Or chains...?"

I groaned. "Oh sweet gods of Asgard... Look, I don't know if it grows down here or if we'll have to find a trader to part with the powdered stuff, but there's an herb that can be used to burn out all your riastarthe if you start getting too testy. Sometimes after battle our warriors would take it, have a nice howl while their spouse restrained them and then guzzled some monkshood to counteract it. The hangover's hell, but we don't have a lot of options here."

The warriors exchanged a look. Francine gave me an uneasy grin. "Uh... What's the name of this plant? It wouldn't happen to be... You know, highly illegal right?"

I blinked. "What of course not? It's not some bizarre poison, I'm just talking about night howlers."