Goodbye, Good Friend

This is a flash piece drafted as part of a prequel adventure with my co-author as she participates in a writing challenge and we work on our shared universe. The flash pieces posted here are part of rough draft scenes that may make it into our future novels or may just be used to help flush out our shared universe.

Here are the shorts we've written so far for the prequel, in chronological order:

• Birthright
• Ice Queen
• Brother's Keeper
• Final Hour
• Forsaken
• Goodbye, Good Friend (this story)
• Inheritance
• A Winter's Bargain
• Death Finds All
• Homecoming
• Reconnection
• The Hour of the Wolf

Hotel Fen, the first published book of the series, follows after this point.

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Hodr’s hands fisted in the blood stained black fur of the companion he’d hald for a little over ten years. The large dog had been rescued by his mother and given to hem in the hopes of bringing him out of his shell after everything with Alfheim and losing his eyes. In some ways, Garmr had done that for him.

The gift, the friend had given him someone to put his heart into after losing his wife. A wife people still told him had been a spell from his mission with the fae. That she hadn’t existed, when he knew in his bones she had. But Garmr had offered someone who had wormed their way into his heart, opening him up again, at least a little.

A crux of that though, is that it also meant that his heart was broken again as he rested with his companion, his friend, his Garmr. The fur had grown a little cold, the breath had stilled in the beast almost an hour ago. Hodr had sat with Garmr in his final hours, whispering lovingly to him, telling him that it was okay to rest now even as Hodr didn’t actually want to let him go.

“It’s time to let him go, my son.” Gentle hands rested on Hodr’s shoulders, the tone in the voice light, gentle as his mother tried to get him to stand. “We can have a servant or guard bury him for you.”

Shifting out of her touch, Hodr shook his head. “No. He deserves a good send off first.” Even without eyes, tears wet his cheeks as he lifted his head. A hand stroked through the soft fur, taking in his friend the only way he knew how now. “I want to send him off well.”

His mother gave a sigh, but she took a step back. “Alright. Do you want help?”

Could he use the help, probably. But that stubborn streak in him drew him to shake his head. “No. I need to do it. Alone.” He listened as his mother’s footsteps retreated without another word and she headed back into the palace. It wasn’t that he was trying to cut her out, though she’d been among the most vocal for him to stop talking about the blond from Alfheim because it did him no good to continue to hold onto someone who clearly wasn’t real.

But also, Garmr had been his. His friend, his companion, his responsibility. So sending the boy off should also be his. So finally pulling away, he moved stiffly to the stock they had for pyres and started to create a small pyre. It took him a while, not minding that the sun started to set because he couldn’t see it at all.

The way he knew the sun had started to set was because the air around him had started to grow colder. Though the cold never bothered him, so he kept working until he was satisfied with the pyre before he carefully lifted Garmr onto it. “There’s a good boy.” His hand stroked down Garmr’s fur one last time as he gave a slow breath. It was the last time he’d be with him.

“You were the best companion I could have asked for these last ten years, Garmr, and I hope that you are at peace now in your old age. May you go to the otherlands and stretch and be near puppy again, my good friend.” His head dipped to rest against Garmr’s fur. “You were exactly who I needed in the absence of my wife, a wonderful friend who knew exactly when I was hurting and when I was ready to go out with you so you could run.”

With a slow breath, he moved back a step and in his mind pictured Fehu, for fire. “May you find her in the other realm, may you bring her the hope and healing that you have gifted me these years, my friend.” His hand rose and he traced Fehu in the air in front of him before his fingers pointed to the wood.

Flames engulfed the pyre quickly. He couldn’t see it, but he could feel that while there were flames, they were chilled. Though in his minds eye he could almost see the magic burn as if the fire he’d summoned were hot all the same. It’s not a surprise to him that the fire is cold instead of hot, and because of that he risked stroking that fur one last time.

“If you see her on that other plane, tell her that I love her still. That I miss her with all of my heart. That she still is my heart.” Flames licked along his skin but didn’t touch him, but after a moment he pulled back slowly. “May you two wait for me on the other side, and know that I’ll find a way home when I can. Keep her safe, show her how to open her heart again like you did mine, Garmr.”

His head bowed a little and he settled a hand against his heart. “I love you both. Never forget it. Garmr. Geiravor, my heart. I haven’t forgotten, and I haven’t forgiven.”

Stepping back from the pyre, he listened to the wood creak and crackle under the icey flame before he took his leave and headed inside, knowing that once the flame had done its job it would go out on its own. His hand still pressed to his heart, he slipped quietly through the palace hallways and to his room to curl up in bed. Alone once more.