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One of the things that I got from the CON.txt procrastinator's panel (oh yeah, I definitely needed to be there) is that it's okay to post fragments.
So, congratulations everyone, you get a fragment today.
This is from "Son of Laufey", the Gabriel backstory that I've been working on -- since SPN let me play in one of my oldest fandoms (aka Norse mythology), I'm just running with it.
Gabriel is fascinated by the baby. It's tiny and fluffy, and he helped Angrboda create it, though she's done most of the work. He holds it to his chest and marvels at the soft feel of the newborn's fur and flesh.
Angrboda sighs. "I'm sorry, Loki. All that work, and for nothing."
Gabriel looks over to her, where she lies exhausted on her bed. "What do you mean?"
"It's a Wolf," Angrboda says, her tone sad.
"I know it's a Wolf. I like the Wolves."
"... You want to raise it?"
Gabriel just stares at her, his hands absently caressing the baby.
Angrboda frowns, exhaustion written on her face. "It's a Wolf, Loki. We can't keep it."
"I don't see why not."
"It's a Wolf!"
"I know that."
Angrboda shakes her head. "Think of what the neighbors would think. Think of what my family would think! I won't suckle it. Just set it out and let the crows have it."
Gabriel stiffens, and stands up. He holds the baby, all fuzz and softness, against his shoulder. "No."
Angrboda laughs weakly. "You can't keep it, Loki. Stop being foolish."
"I'll suckle it." At Angrboda's incredulous look, Gabriel lifts his chin. "I'm a shapechanger. I'm the *best* shapechanger. I can if I want to."
Angrboda's face changes to a look of pure challenge.
Gabriel glances around the room -- he doesn't think Angrboda will let him on her bed now, but there's a rug by the longfire opposite the bed, and it will do. He hops the firepit, and crouches down, laying the baby on the stiff wool.
He's in a male Vessel, but he figured out shapechanging a long time ago, watching Hrimhild and her men turn from man-shape to wolf-shape and back. So the first thing he does is melt his body down into Wolf form.
"You're still male," Angrboda mocks.
He glares up at her, then closes his eyes in concentration. This shift is harder, turning his Vessel inside out and upside down. The human soul deep inside him wriggles in alarm at the transformation until he shoves Thorolf back down into his long sleep. But he huffs out a breath as his body settles into female shape. It's exactly like when he was Svala, running out in the evenings to Hrimhild's den, for singing and camaraderie and epic amounts of fucking.
It's only a moment of concentration to wake up the body's nipples, to set the flood of milk in motion. It's like sweating deliberately. Gabriel twists his body around until he can get his muzzle against his own hip, and he licks out, stimulating the hindmost nipples until his milk lets down. Then he flops to the rug, picks the baby up by the scruff, and places the fuzzy little thing under his hip.
The baby latches on with a ferocity that Gabriel didn't expect. Its toothless mouth sucks a nipple in, and pulls and pulls until the milk flows. Gabriel sighs happily -- he remembers when he was Svala, helping Hrimhild nurse her pups -- how blessedly content that made him feel, to be part of a family again. But this pup is *his*, and he won't give him up to any Wolf-kin, not ever.
He looks up then, to see Angrboda looking at him with a surprised, considering expression.
"I didn't think you could do it..." she murmurs.
Gabriel shrugs as much as he's able in Wolf form. The baby doesn't like it, squealing as it is jostled. He turns his head back, and licks the baby's belly, soothing it.
Angrboda climbs gingerly out of her bed, wrapping the blanket over her as she stands up. She still smells of blood and fluid, and Gabriel wants to help her, to bring her water and herbs to clean with, but the baby is more important right now. Angrboda can wait, she knows her own limits, and the baby needed to be fed immediately.
"We're doing in this all wrong, my love," she laughs, as gets a bowl of water from her kitchen-board. "I'm supposed to suckle him, and you're supposed to name him."
She comes over, and kneels down next to Gabriel. He watches her, nervous, as she strokes a pale hand over his fur.
"You really did it -- this is a she-wolf you've turned yourself into," Angrboda says in distant wonder. She pets him a few times, then reaches down to pick up the baby.
She has to pull the baby off the nipple, who doesn't want to go. The baby squeaks in hungry outrage. Gabriel twists around, sitting up to look Angrboda in the face. He wants to snatch the baby back and tuck him back into place, but Angrboda's solemn look stops him.
She dips her hand into the bowl, and then scatters water over the baby. "I name you Hrotholf, son of Loki, son of Angrboda, accepted and suckled. May you live, grow strong, and be a sword against our enemies." She hesitates for a moment, then brings the baby up and kisses the fuzzy head.
"Here," she says, setting the baby back down against Gabriel's hip. "I think he's still hungry."
Gabriel nods, and nudges the baby over to a nipple. Then he looks up at Angrboda.
"I'm going to bathe. I'll be back shortly." She stands, and walks out the door. Gabriel watches her move off, then tucks his nose back down and licks Hrothulf's head. He has a family again, one he made himself. This one will be better than the one his Father made -- he'll make sure of it.
Should I use the thorn -- þ -- and eth -- ð -- when I use Norse names and words, or is it easier to read if the names are transliterated as long as I'm consistent?
So, congratulations everyone, you get a fragment today.
This is from "Son of Laufey", the Gabriel backstory that I've been working on -- since SPN let me play in one of my oldest fandoms (aka Norse mythology), I'm just running with it.
Gabriel is fascinated by the baby. It's tiny and fluffy, and he helped Angrboda create it, though she's done most of the work. He holds it to his chest and marvels at the soft feel of the newborn's fur and flesh.
Angrboda sighs. "I'm sorry, Loki. All that work, and for nothing."
Gabriel looks over to her, where she lies exhausted on her bed. "What do you mean?"
"It's a Wolf," Angrboda says, her tone sad.
"I know it's a Wolf. I like the Wolves."
"... You want to raise it?"
Gabriel just stares at her, his hands absently caressing the baby.
Angrboda frowns, exhaustion written on her face. "It's a Wolf, Loki. We can't keep it."
"I don't see why not."
"It's a Wolf!"
"I know that."
Angrboda shakes her head. "Think of what the neighbors would think. Think of what my family would think! I won't suckle it. Just set it out and let the crows have it."
Gabriel stiffens, and stands up. He holds the baby, all fuzz and softness, against his shoulder. "No."
Angrboda laughs weakly. "You can't keep it, Loki. Stop being foolish."
"I'll suckle it." At Angrboda's incredulous look, Gabriel lifts his chin. "I'm a shapechanger. I'm the *best* shapechanger. I can if I want to."
Angrboda's face changes to a look of pure challenge.
Gabriel glances around the room -- he doesn't think Angrboda will let him on her bed now, but there's a rug by the longfire opposite the bed, and it will do. He hops the firepit, and crouches down, laying the baby on the stiff wool.
He's in a male Vessel, but he figured out shapechanging a long time ago, watching Hrimhild and her men turn from man-shape to wolf-shape and back. So the first thing he does is melt his body down into Wolf form.
"You're still male," Angrboda mocks.
He glares up at her, then closes his eyes in concentration. This shift is harder, turning his Vessel inside out and upside down. The human soul deep inside him wriggles in alarm at the transformation until he shoves Thorolf back down into his long sleep. But he huffs out a breath as his body settles into female shape. It's exactly like when he was Svala, running out in the evenings to Hrimhild's den, for singing and camaraderie and epic amounts of fucking.
It's only a moment of concentration to wake up the body's nipples, to set the flood of milk in motion. It's like sweating deliberately. Gabriel twists his body around until he can get his muzzle against his own hip, and he licks out, stimulating the hindmost nipples until his milk lets down. Then he flops to the rug, picks the baby up by the scruff, and places the fuzzy little thing under his hip.
The baby latches on with a ferocity that Gabriel didn't expect. Its toothless mouth sucks a nipple in, and pulls and pulls until the milk flows. Gabriel sighs happily -- he remembers when he was Svala, helping Hrimhild nurse her pups -- how blessedly content that made him feel, to be part of a family again. But this pup is *his*, and he won't give him up to any Wolf-kin, not ever.
He looks up then, to see Angrboda looking at him with a surprised, considering expression.
"I didn't think you could do it..." she murmurs.
Gabriel shrugs as much as he's able in Wolf form. The baby doesn't like it, squealing as it is jostled. He turns his head back, and licks the baby's belly, soothing it.
Angrboda climbs gingerly out of her bed, wrapping the blanket over her as she stands up. She still smells of blood and fluid, and Gabriel wants to help her, to bring her water and herbs to clean with, but the baby is more important right now. Angrboda can wait, she knows her own limits, and the baby needed to be fed immediately.
"We're doing in this all wrong, my love," she laughs, as gets a bowl of water from her kitchen-board. "I'm supposed to suckle him, and you're supposed to name him."
She comes over, and kneels down next to Gabriel. He watches her, nervous, as she strokes a pale hand over his fur.
"You really did it -- this is a she-wolf you've turned yourself into," Angrboda says in distant wonder. She pets him a few times, then reaches down to pick up the baby.
She has to pull the baby off the nipple, who doesn't want to go. The baby squeaks in hungry outrage. Gabriel twists around, sitting up to look Angrboda in the face. He wants to snatch the baby back and tuck him back into place, but Angrboda's solemn look stops him.
She dips her hand into the bowl, and then scatters water over the baby. "I name you Hrotholf, son of Loki, son of Angrboda, accepted and suckled. May you live, grow strong, and be a sword against our enemies." She hesitates for a moment, then brings the baby up and kisses the fuzzy head.
"Here," she says, setting the baby back down against Gabriel's hip. "I think he's still hungry."
Gabriel nods, and nudges the baby over to a nipple. Then he looks up at Angrboda.
"I'm going to bathe. I'll be back shortly." She stands, and walks out the door. Gabriel watches her move off, then tucks his nose back down and licks Hrothulf's head. He has a family again, one he made himself. This one will be better than the one his Father made -- he'll make sure of it.
Should I use the thorn -- þ -- and eth -- ð -- when I use Norse names and words, or is it easier to read if the names are transliterated as long as I'm consistent?
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I'm a fan of the original Norse letters, but the Norse names have been transliterated for so long that it's not exactly jarring to see that. Most people would probably understand it better.
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The only reason to really use the thorn and the eth is that there are occasional names that have both in them at the same time -- Friðþjófr looks weird transcribed as 'Friththjofr', but 'th' in English stands for the thorn and the eth.
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And I liked this -- want to see the rest of the story!
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I think posting fragments is going to be useful, if only because it reminds me that people *are* interested in reading this story, and maybe I should finish it.
750words.com is also being really helpful in the *writing* of the story, so who knows. I'm still having fun with it.