Page 51 of The Magic of Vanaheim
Håkon looked at him, a little dazed, a little flushed. “Where are they?” he asked almost inaudibly.
Talvi’s heart beat faster with excitement. This was the first time Håkon had dared to ask him something important. Leaning in a little closer still, Talvi brought his lips right to Håkon’s ear. These secrets were meant for his husband alone.
“They vanished without a trace on the night of the raid.”
“How?”
“I’m sure they’ve fended off a powerful magical attack. And after Gunnlaug showed up in your retinue, I’m more convinced than ever that the priestesses had a hand in this.”
Uttering a small, disbelieving sound, Håkon rested his head against Talvi’s shoulder. Talvi couldn’t resist planting soft kisses on the crown of his head.
“There are vast spaces behind the fabric of the worlds. Avalacan lose her path if she travels the more perilous roads. But she can always return—”
Håkon kissed him sloppily. He tasted sweet like mead and the honey-glazed roast he’d eaten, and Talvi put a grounding hand on the back of his neck.
“I’ve had my bedchamber prepared for you,” Astrid said from somewhere behind Talvi. Her speech was already a little slurred,but she still managed to sound salacious. “Do you want to retire there?”
Talvi ignored her teasing.
“What do you think, Håkon? Do you want to celebrate some more, or would you prefer to go to bed?”
“I—” Håkon tensed, obviously unsure what answer was expected from him, and Talvi’s heart broke a little.
“Just tell me what you want. Be honest with me.”
Blinking slowly, Håkon pondered his words. He suddenly looked exhausted, and Talvi vowed to himself that he would be even more attentive to Håkon’s needs when they were staying at their chieftains’ halls.
“You don’t want to celebrate some more? These are your friends—”
Turning to Astrid, Talvi nodded. “Yes, we’d like to retreat now.”
He pulled Håkon up and over to the closed-off area at the back of the hall where the lords’ rooms were located. His husband followed him as if entranced, probably because of the mead and because Talvi let him in on his secrets so openly.
Talvi was used to being offered the chieftain’s bedroom on his journeys, but Håkon seemed a little disconcerted about entering Astrid’s private chambers.
“Don’t worry,dróttning. As their ruler, it’s only right they offer you the best place in the hall to sleep.”
He helped Håkon undress and kissed him languidly for long minutes. Håkon reciprocated the kiss more and more weakly, eyes drifting shut and eventually falling asleep under Talvi’s gentle touches.
Talvi watched him for a long time after; observing his serene features and the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest.
The most perfect being in all the Nine Worlds.
fourteen
The Dead King
?åkon
Summer in Vanaheim was beautiful. Håkon marveled at the rich green landscapes, the golden fields, and the prospering villages. After the night at the boatbuilder’s hall—the night Talvinen told him about his mothers—they traveled along the fjords and through the forests from farmstead to farmstead in the never fading light of the midnight sun. Riding out on patrol had always been Håkon’s favorite time of the year, for it gave him the opportunity to spend time away from the oppressive gloom of his father’s hall. Exploring Vanaheim with Talvinen by his side was even more exhilarating.
Only a small retinue accompanied them, and Håkon was relieved that Talvinen had ordered Frekegar to stay behind. However, Håkon hadn’t dared to ask if Gudrun could ride with them. After talking about his mothers’ fate so openly, Håkon thought maybe Talvinen would’ve granted his request. He liked to play the unassuming fool after all. But as Håkon had learned the hard way, Talvinen was cunning, way too perceptive for a man his age. He already must’ve figured that Gudrun was dearto Håkon and, shared secrets or not, Håkon wouldn’t dare put her in any more danger by reinforcing this suspicion. Breathing deeply, Håkon savored the smell of dry earth and wildflowers. Guiding his horse along the narrow path through a light forest of oak, ash, and beech, he followed their retinue of the dozen warriors and shieldmaidens that formed Talvinen’sliðfor the journey. To his surprise, theVanirwarriors treated him with respect and even camaraderie, like Talvinen had promised. Even Thyra, the guard he had fought against on his first day in Saeborg, was almost friendly to him. Håkon couldn’t wrap his head around it. Catching up to the group at an easy gallop, Talvinen steered his gray steed next to Håkon.
“There’s a farm and small hamlet at the edge of this forest. How about we settle down early today? The land around is sacred, saturated with theseiðrconnecting the worlds, and there are circles of standing stones and ancient burial mounds hidden nearby. Would you like to see them?”
In his entire life, Håkon had never been asked what he wanted. Talvinen asked all the time; where he wanted to go and what he wanted to see, if he was tired or hungry, or if he felt comfortable. What he thought about this or that, or what he preferred. It was overwhelming, probably a trap. But it felt so good.
“Are your ancient kings buried there?” Håkon asked, putting off having to answer Talvinen’s question for a moment longer.