Tyr Lends a Hand

This flash piece is a rough draft of a scene from the prequel novel of The Prophecies of Ragnarok, a Norse mythology-based new adult series I'm currently writing with Marie Sinadjan. It may or may not end up in the final version of the novel.

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

• Birthright
• Ice Queen
• Tyr Lends a Hand (this story)
• Prison Break
• Escaping Asgard
• Marriage Plans
• Brother's Keeper
• Final Hour
• Resistance and Steps
• Forsaken
• Revenge Served With Rage
• Goodbye, Good Friend
• 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.

~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~ ~~

Hodr could hear his brothers up to no good before he could get close to the courtyard. Part of him wasn’t surprised, the older brothers were always picking fights and picking on people.

“We’re happy to give you a lesson.” Tyr’s voice carried. Just before a grunt from someone. It sounded like Tyr may have pushed someone.

Thor’s chuckle was unmistakable. “Could use some beefing up. Scrawny little thing.” Another grunt sounded, his brothers laughing at something.

Hodr had half a mind to leave it alone, to slip past and not get involved directly. Maybe send one of the captains to break them up. But the vice that followed paused him in his tracks and he swore softly.

“I was just passing through to see my sister.” Fenris’ voice sounded pained and it tugged at Hodr.

Quickening his step, he stopped listening to his brothers as they took turns shoving the smaller boy between them. The pale skin of his arm wore a bruise already from the shoving, but what angered Hodr more was the bruise along Fenris’ cheek. “Leave him alone!”

The brothers glance toward Hodr, Tyr’s lips raised in a smirk. “Well if it isn’t our Princeling spare brother. Trying to be a good little boyfriend!”

Thor chuckled and while Vidar was silent, his lips quirked at the teasing. “Going to run and tell Father we’re being mean?”

Hodr snarled a little as he tried to shove Thor’s massive frame. The bulk of muscle didn’t so much as flinch. “I said leave him alone!” He tried to shove Thor again, making just enough way to get past him and launch himself at Tyr with a snarl.

Not that he made it far. Thor’s hand caught him by the back of the neck to jerk him back.

At his standing up for Fenris, the boy moved forward. “Don’t!”

Tyr’s hand struck out, the crack of bone loud in the courtyard as Fenris’ nose broke under the punch. “No one asked you, Lokison.” Tyr’s voice was low and dangerous.

However, the sound that came from Fenris wasn’t pained in the way anyone expected. It was more snarled as his body twisted and contorted, fur bursting along his skin dark and thick. The sound rumbled around them as a large black wolf now stood where the small boy has been.

When Tyr lashed out again, intending to catch the beast on his muzzle, the wolf’s jaws snapped and it was Tyr who cried out in pain. Blood sprayed hot and fast from where his hand had been and Hodr’s eyes widened at the realization that Fenris had taken his brother’s hand.

Vidar and Tyr advanced on the wolf with snarls, but even from where Thor held him in place, Hodr didn’t need to be close for what he’d been practicing with Geiravor. Ice caught Tyr and Vidar’s feet before they could close on the wolf. “Fen run!”

To his credit, he gave Hodr a look, wanting to confirm that he really wanted him to run instead of help. Hodr gave the smallest nod, knowing that while his brothers might be mad, they wouldn’t kill him. Hodr couldn’t be sure about that for Fenris now that Tyr was missing a hand.

Tyr snarled as he broke free of the ice and turned as Fenris bolted out of the courtyard and to his father, Loki’s cabin to take sanctuary. With Tyr’s hand still in his mouth.

Since he couldn’t lash out at the wolf, Tyr’s good hand connected with Hodr’s jaw and sent him tumbling. The three of them converged on Hodr, taking turns throwing punches. Hodr blocked some of them, but they were all bigger, stronger, and out for blood now. So more caught him in various places in his body than not.

One of the captain’s shouted when they finally noticed Hodr on the ground, arm up to cover his head while blows still rained down. The shout had them pause and finally, the pain stopped coming. Or well the new pain stopped coming.

Everything ached as he took a slow breath through the pain. It felt like from a distance that he heard his mother cry out for him, berating his brothers for touching him. Something from the captain telling Tyr to get to the infirmary to see to his missing hand.

Slowly though, everything went dark. The next time he woke, he was in his room, in bed. Odin was standing at the foot of his bed, looking unconcerned.

“He needs to learn to stand up for himself. You baby him.” Odin motioned at Hodr before turning to head out of the room.

Frigg gave a frustrated sound. “Three against one when he’s still learning isn’t right, Odin. He’s your son!”

Odin pointed at Hodr. “He chose that shapeshifter over his brothers. Tyr lost his hand, wife. And because they couldn’t find it in time, he can’t have it reattached. Maybe this will teach him some loyalty.”

Without waiting for her to say another word, Odin stalked out of the room. Frigg growled at his retreating back, but at the groan, Hodr couldn’t stop as he shifted, she turned and moved to his side. Her eyes were watery and she stroked his hair gently. Right now it was the only part Of him that didn’t hurt.

“Shhh, rest. I’ll see them punished. Fenris is safe with his father.” Frigg gave a soft hum and she helped him drink something bitter. “Sleep. You’ll feel better soon.”

Whatever his mother gave him was quick and darkness soon claimed him again, taking the pain with it this time.