Page 67 of The Magic of Vanaheim

“On the night of our wedding, you said that it would be our duty to bless certain rituals. We could do it.”

“No,” Talvinen said.

Håkon thought his husband would be pleased by his suggestion. Instead, he seemed horrified.

“I’d make sure that neither Svanhild nor Sveinn would use the ritual to harm you,” Njord said quickly. At least one of these madVanirwas on Håkon’s side.

Facing his uncle with an angry glare, Talvinen stepped between them.

“That’s what you all want,” he hissed. “Håkon had barely settled in Saeborg, and Perhonen was already pestering me about the rites. And now Svanhild is conveniently here to conduct a fertility ritual of her own. I won’t stand for it!”

“What could it possibly be to Svanhild?” Håkon asked. “I’ve never even met her.” What was Talvinen even talking about?

“There’s a mighty spirit trapped in your ink, am I right?” Njord asked.

Sending Talvinen a confused glance, Håkon had no idea where their conversation was going. Talvinen answered him with a curt nod, confirming that they could speak openly with his uncle.

“A white bear I hunted on a quest.”

“My nephew can touch your tattoos, I assume?”

“Uncle!” For the very first time, Talvinen seemed flustered, despite the strained situation. It was endearing.

“Yes,” Håkon answered.

Njord smiled wolfishly. “If you conduct the ritual together, Talvinen will have to vanquish your bear spirit.”

“What does that mean?”

“He’ll have to defeat the white bear like you did. A deed as dangerous as your quest back then.”

“I won’t do it,” Talvinen snarled. “You have no idea,dróttning. These kinds of rituals are arduous, especially for the vessel. And it would give me immense power over you. Your guardian spirit, your fate, it would all be mine.”

Heavy silence fell between them. Håkon found it difficult to breathe. But if Håkon’s well-being was what Talvinen was worried about, he could reassure him.

“We can do it, then. It won’t change anything,” Håkon whispered.

The words hung heavy between them.

“Håkon, no.” Talvinen sounded pleading.

“I’m already yours. My body, my fate, my—heart.” Norns, why was this so hard to say? He’d tried to evade the truth for some time now. But the fates couldn’t be fooled. “It won’t change anything.”

Talvinen was suddenly on him, grabbing his neck and pulling him into a harsh kiss.

“StupidJotunn,” Talvinen snarled between biting kisses. “You can’t just say something like that.”

“It’s the truth,” Håkon mumbled when Talvinen let him breathe again.

His words elicited a resigned sigh from his husband.

“You’re impossible,” Talvinen chastised him. “Just so we’re absolutely clear about this: you’re not just asking me to fuck you in a ritual. Myseiðrwill own you. You’d be completely at my mercy.”

Cupping Talvinen’s face in his hands, Håkon leaned in until their foreheads touched. The gesture intended to reassure Talvinen as much as himself.

“Nothing new then,” Håkon said.

Talvinen uttered a frustrated noise but leaned in to kiss Håkon again. And Håkon knew he’d won.