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“We’ll have you eating and looking like a jötunn in no time!” He promised. Stellan’s lips cocked at the corner as he crossed his arms over his chest.
“That’ll be some kind of magic because I’ve always been wiry and so was dad, no matter how much we ate,” he warned but Fritjof waved it off.
“We’ll fatten you up! The nights are already cold so there’s a fur on the bed and extra quilts in the trunk until you’ve put on your winter weight,” he said with a wink then gave Stellan a quick salute. “I’ve got to get back to my chores but you holler if you need anything,” he said then took himself off.
“Holler? I can’t think of anything I could possibly need,” Stellan said then went to unpack so he could do a little exploring.
3
“They lodged the sword in the beast’s mouth and his saliva and tears poured from it and became the river Ván,” Fritjof said with deep awe and Stellan nodded along as if he hadn’t heard and read a hundred variations of the same story. It was different, hearing it from a man who was big enough to be a frost giant while sitting at the base of a mountain where the mythical wolf was rumored to roam. The bonfire leapt and licked at the frigid night around them but Stellan was toasty in his sweater and mittens. He was hugging his fourth mug of Fritjof’s delicious pilsner and Stellan had been captivated for hours. “There, they cast the giant wolf, and he is to remain until Ragnarok.”
“They believed his tears and saliva made the fjords and he’s been imprisoned on that mountain,” Stellan breathed as he stared at the peak through the bonfire’s flames. A loud howl echoed through the night and Stellan gasped and became alert as the hairs on his neck and arms stood. “What was that?” He asked and Fritjof chuckled as he sipped from his stein.
“There’s only one wolf I know of around here,” he said.
“And it’s the same wolf one of my ancestors was supposedly sacrificed to?” Stellan confirmed and Fritjof nodded.
“It’s always been Fenrir. The first Jötunnsens were descendants of the jötunn who were left here to keep the monster confined to the woods. They began leaving sacrifices to Fenrir to keep him from destroying their homes and eating the men.”
“And look at how we’ve thrived and flourished!” Gustav said sarcastically and laughed as he raised his stein. He was Fritjof’s brother-in-law and married to Ulla, a strapping woman with bright orange braids and glowing blue eyes, like Fritjof and Gustav. Stellan encountered more Jötunnsens after he unpacked and went for a walk around the little settlement and the shore. They were all welcoming and gregarious like Fritjof but Stellan could barely tell them apart; all the Jötunnsens were tall, broad and pale with fiery orange hair and glowing cornflower blue eyes. In fact, the only way Stellan could tell the women from the men was their long orange braids and the lack of facial hair. Fritjof and the other men all had big bushy mustaches and beards. Stellan felt like a child compared to the two large men sitting across from him but they were generous and easy-going and treated Stellan like he was a hell of a lot older and wiser than he truly was. They were so impressed by Stellan’s education and how well-traveled he was; they spent hours interrogating him about his research and the various countries he’d visited.
“I’m glad you’ve managed to keep the outside world from ruining this place,” Stellan stated as he slid from his bench and went to fill his mug. There was an actual tap in the barrel and Stellan could almost believe he’d gone back in time and to another realm. He didn’t feel like he was still in the present or on the same planet. The Hjørundfjord and Jötunndal looked like something from a fairytale and Stellan hadn’t seen a television since he landed in Sæbø. “This feels like a dream,” he told them and Gustav and Fritjof raised their beers in agreement as Stellan dropped back onto the bench across from them.
“We’ll see how you like it once the charm’s worn off,” Gustav said. And for just a second, Stellan thought there was a hard edge to it as Gustav glanced at Fritjof.
“If he lasts that long! I’ll toss him to the wolf as soon as he’s got a little more meat on his bones,” Fritjof laughed as he slapped the table and Stellan giggled into his mug.
“Good luck. I hope Fenrir’s on a diet. I’ll be a string bean forever like my dad,” he predicted. Gustav grunted into his stein and threw Fritjof a hard look.
“No. You’d make a sorry meal for a monster and you’ve got a life waiting for you back home, I’m sure,” Gustav said and Stellan grimaced at his beer.
“Not really. I’m almost done with my dissertation but I don’t think I want to teach. I love the research but most of this is about my dad. It was our dream to do this together,” he explained. Gustav’s mug slammed on the table and beer splashed onto his hand as he stood.
“You should have let it go when he died. You were a fool to come here by yourself,” he told Stellan and Fritjof waved dismissively as Gustav stormed off.
“We’ll make sure no harm comes to you!” He said and waved at Ulla. “Bring us some cake!” He called and Stellan ate until he was nearly sick. He fell into bed with a full belly and a smile on his face but Gustav’s words lingered. Stellan wasn’t sure what he’d done to rub Gustav the wrong way but he’d see what he could do to win him over.
4
It was the perfect morning to go exploring. Stellan felt invigorated as the crisp sea air bit at his cheeks and whipped at his hair while he marched along the shore. He stopped now and then so he could peer through the mist but the rest of the world was gone. It had been swallowed by a heavy fog that had descended upon the fjord. Jötunndal truly felt like its own realm and a million miles away from civilization. Stellan filled his lungs with the icy breeze as it came off the water and they burned and his nose stung.
“Amazing!” He whispered and hopped over a large rock and paused when he heard voices as he approached a small cape. Stellan recognized Gustav’s barking laugh but there was that hard edge to it again. Stellan heard Fritjof and ducked behind the massive, moss-covered boulders so he wouldn’t interrupt them and make it awkward.
“You don’t have to do it this time,” Gustav ground out and Stellan heard a chuckle.
“It’s always been our way and it’s not your place to tell me how to run Jötunndal, is it? I’m head of this family and this town,” Fritjof reminded Gustav in his usually brisk but cheerful way.
“But it doesn’t have to be this way!” Gustav argued and there were sounds of pushing and a struggle.
“You’re welcome to pack your things and go someplace else if you don’t like it,” Fritjof said and Gustav snorted.
“And leave my wife and everything I have?”
“She understands her place and our ways.”
“Ulla’s afraid of you and stays for her sister,” Gustav spat back and Fritjof laughed softly.
“As I said, Ulla understands. You can do as you’re told and stay out of my way or you can leave,” he said and there was a muttered string of curses as Gustav left. Stellan was shocked to hear the two men fighting and even more surprised that Fritjof could be so abrupt and dismissive with Gustav. It wasn’t like Fritjof to be anything but generous and kind so Stellan backed away and headed in the other direction.
