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They hadn’t talked about the morning when Hakon had woken up from restless dreams, drenched in sweat and so desperate for Talvi to take care of him. Talvi had seen the fear in Hakon’s eyes, still expecting the worst from him. That’s why he’d tried to lighten the mood, to say something funny, and Hakon had laughed. But now, they’d settled back into their uneasy routine, and Talvi couldn’t bring himself to broach the subject again. He knew they should talk about it, but Hakon seemed to dread it so much that Talvi just couldn’t.

At least Hakon seemed a little more comfortable being touched, often gravitating toward Talvi until their shoulders nudged or their knuckles brushed together. And when they settled down at night, Talvi only had to open his arms for Hakon to snuggle close to him. Small mercies. Watching Hakon train had become a favorite part of Talvi’s day. Today was no exception. Fondly, he watched how his husband held Thyra and three of her guards at bay to the cheers of the other warriors.

“Can’t you see how dangerous he is?”

Arngrim still wasn’t over his lost duel.

“I married the best warrior in the Nine Realms. Are you complaining?”

Uttering an angry, dismissive sound, Arngrim started to pace. “I’m serious, Talvi. Bloodaxe is going to get you killed.”

“I know my fate.”

“You don’t! Not even the Queens did.”

The mention of his mothers hurt like a stab to the gut. How could Arngrim use their absence against him? Talvi had planned to talk to Arngrim in private and dispel his concerns about Hakon. But his friend had avoided him, going out drinking in the taverns of the lower town every night. And Talvi wasn’t willing to leave Hakon alone for a whole evening to search for his petulant mentor, only to find him too drunk to talk properly.

“What are you hinting at?” Talvi hissed. “What didn’t my mothers know?”

“Their death. They could neither foresee nor prevent their own demise.” Arngrim’s eyes shone with anger and sorrow. If Talvi hadn’t been so angry himself—how could Arngrim spout such nonsense?—he would’ve felt sorry for him.

“My mothers aren’t dead! Have you forgotten who they are? Goddesses of the sea. They don’t die. They can’t.”

“Don’t be na?ve, my prince.” Grabbing him by the shoulders, Arngrim’s voice turned pleading. “Everything is fleeting. Even gods and goddesses die. Can’t you see? You’re the last ruler of Vanaheim, and if you die—”

Sensing that Hakon had stopped sparring and walked over to them, Talvi looked up. Only now did he realize their quarrel raised more attention than he’d planned. The guards had stopped their training, and everybody was watching them. Not good.

“He won’t die,” Hakon said loudly, rushing over to them. “Aren’t the Vanir the gods of old? Isn’t Talvinen the God-King of Vanaheim?”

“This is none of your business, frosty locks,” Arngrim spat.

“Isn’t he?” Hakon repeated, sword still in hand and obviously ready to go another round against Arngrim. Seeing him like that made Talvi crave to drag him to their chambers, to take his time preparing him for hours, and fuck him senseless afterward.

“Of course he is!” Arngrim stepped threateningly in front of Hakon. “And your honorless father will never conquer the second realm.”

Calmness filled Talvi’s being, just like the night of the raid. He took Hakon’s hand and nudged his husband to stay half a step behind. The temperature around them had dropped tangibly, and Talvi smelled snow.

“My mothers are alive, and the queens won’t appreciate your fretting.” His voice sounded strange to his own ears, carrying and otherworldly. He could feel Hakon shudder. “We’re Vanir . We’re the gods of old. And we do not die.”

Stumbling back a step, Arngrim’s eyes grew wide. He looked almost scared. This wasn’t what Talvi wanted. He wasn’t a ruler who wished to be feared, but he would put just about anyone in their place if it meant he could make Hakon feel safe.

“Of course, my lord,” Arngrim said, voice hollow. “I—I don’t know what came over me.”

“Very well. Hakon, would you continue the training for me? Arngrim and I need to talk.” Hoping to convey that he didn’t want to hear any complaints later, Talvi scowled at Thyra. However, after Talvi had made clear his displeasure at his husband’s treatment on his first day in Saeborg, and especially after Hakon had defeated Arngrim, the guards grudgingly paid their respects to Hakon.

“As you wish, my lord,” Hakon said, still as wary of everything Talvi did or said as if he expected a cruel test of his loyalty at every turn.

“Thank you, dróttning .” Pressing a swift kiss to Hakon’s lips for everyone to see, Talvi turned to Arngrim.

“Come.”

Arngrim trailed after him with a sour expression. Heading to the battlements, Talvi climbed a steep flight of stairs and slipped through a narrow passageway into the inner walls of the citadel. He headed to the small courtyard, where he and Arngrim used to spend their days practicing when Talvi was younger.

“What do we want here?” Arngrim asked, arms crossed in front of his chest. The golden sunlight falling through the leaves of the mighty oaks framing the courtyard made his red hair glow like flames.

“He’s the love of my life.”

“He—what?”

“It is what it is. I won’t change my mind.”

“You don’t know him, Talvi. He might act all doe-eyed and docile around you, but he’s the enemy. He’ll never truly be yours.”

“Maybe I don’t know him, but you should. Weren’t you in a similar position? Didn’t my mothers take you in and put their trust in you when you fled Nidavellir?”

Eyes wide in shock, Arngrim gaped at him.

“How dare you compare me to this Jotunn bastard? We have nothing in common! Do you even know why they call him Bloodaxe?”

“He single-handedly killed King Lofarr and most of his warriors.”

Arngrim growled.

“An act of dishonor. He slaughtered a king of Nidavellir. These men thought they were protected under the laws of hospitality, but instead, the Jotnar killed them all. And for what? To get their greedy hands on some treasure their own kind is too unskilled to make.”

That’s not how his mother, Ahti, had told the story. Before she met Vellamo and settled down to rule over Vanaheim, Ahti had been traveling the Nine Worlds; a goddess in disguise on the hunt for wisdom to gain and deeds to accomplish. When they were younger, Talvi and Rune had hung on her every word, eager to learn about each of her adventures. And Talvi had been especially obsessed with tales of the young Jotunn prince Hakon. According to his mother, Hakon’s fame wasn’t unwarranted.

“Were you there?” Talvi asked, his anger tempered by compassion for his friend.

“No, of course not. If I had been there, either I or your precious Jotunn would be dining in the Halls of Hel .”

More likely you. Talvi didn’t voice the thought.

“Ahti tells the tale of Lofarr’s demise differently.”

Something closed off in Arngrim’s face, and Talvi realized he must’ve had this argument before. Probably with Ahti herself.

“She—”

“Don’t you dare lie to me. Mother was there.” She knew. That’s why she told the story like Hakon’s saga. Talvi didn’t say that either. “You must accept him. He’s mine and I’m not letting him go.”

Arngrim was desperate by this point, Talvi could tell.

“But will he be happy here?” Arngrim made another attempt to sway Talvi’s decision. “It’s a childhood infatuation, Talvi. I know what you see in him. He’s formidable, a great warrior for sure. But he’s corrupted by Bergelmir’s influence.”

Unable to suppress laughter, Talvi shook his head. How couldn’t Arngrim see what kind of man Hakon truly was? Honorable, yet cunning in battle. And so eager to please. If only Talvi could convince Hakon that he belonged to him, he knew Hakon would be the most loyal of his warriors, then. Talvi had a feeling that even now his husband would find it difficult to betray him, even though his honor demanded to obey Bergelmir instead of Talvi. “I’ll make sure he’s happy. Can’t you see? You’re right to despise Bergelmir. But this is his ultimate defeat. His son is going to be one of ours. And who knows, if Hakon ever decides to claim his birthright, I’m more than happy to help him ascend the Frostland Throne.”

Sighing deeply, Arngrim’s shoulders rounded in defeat.

“You won’t change your mind, will you? Damn your thick head, Vanr .”

Tentatively, Talvi grasped Arngrim’s shoulder.

“No. But I need your help to keep Vanaheim safe. Can I count on you, or are you going to keep harassing my husband?”

Another long-suffering sigh.

“Fine, you madman. Have it your way. Are you going to keep your pretty bride by your side when we ride out to inspect the borders?”

Talvi grinned, relieved to feel the tension between them bleeding away.

“I can’t very well leave him here to fend for himself, can I?”

“You could put him in a cell,” Arngrim proposed, but he sounded more lighthearted now. Almost teasing. Not as if he was making a serious suggestion. “It would be the safest option.”

Talvi rolled his eyes.

“As much as I would enjoy such a scenario, I think you wouldn’t like what it would lead to.”

Arngrim’s eyes widened. “Gross!”

Fidgeting beside him, Hakon was adorably excited about accompanying him on a patrol to the borders of Vanaheim and visiting the halls of Talvi’s sworn chieftains. He looked stunning on horseback, his fair hair and skin contrasting beautifully with the black leather of his armor, and Talvi couldn’t get enough of watching him. Many citizens of Saeborg had left their homes in the early hours of the morning to show their respect and wish them a safe journey.

Talvi could scarcely wait to escape the confines of the city and head out into the wilderness. If only his mothers would return, he could spend his days devoting himself to Hakon and showing his beautiful husband all the wonders of Vanaheim. Guiding his horse next to Hakon’s, Talvi rested a hand on his husband’s thigh as they made their way through the narrow streets of Saeborg’s lower town and toward the main gate. Hakon tensed up, still unused to public displays of affection. “Ready to see more of your kingdom?”

Hakon nodded, but didn’t meet Talvi’s gaze, instead looking almost bashfully to the ground. And although the Vanir met them with affection, some even throwing flowers at their feet, Hakon seemed to expect to get dragged off his horse and lynched by the citizens of Saeborg.

“The people of Saeborg don’t blame you for the raid. They know Bergelmir was the one who ordered it.”

“Still, I am your peoples’ sworn enemy. They’d be right to loathe and fear me. Not everyone is as careless as you are.”

“You don’t have to be our enemy. My people will respect you. I’ll make sure of it.”

“You can’t force this kind of respect,” Hakon mumbled, voice so low it was barely audible.

Snatching his husband’s hand and holding on to it for everyone to see, Talvi smiled. It was moments like this that he could clearly see what kind of person Hakon was behind his carefully cultivated disguise as a fearless Jotunn general. There was so much kindness in him, so much wisdom and understanding for those not as fortunate in life as princes and mighty warriors.

“They’ll love you because I love you.” Talvi leaned over to whisper into Hakon’s ear.

Blushing fiercely, the bluish hue on his high cheekbones a beautiful match to the ice blue of his eyes, Hakon just stared at him for some long moments.

“You’re mad,” Hakon finally said, but his words were spoken low and breathless, full of wonder.

“Is that a bad thing?”

Chuckling softly, Hakon watched their joined hands as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“I haven’t decided yet.”

Talvi’s heart beat faster at the admission. The gentle smile that touched Hakon’s lips, his more relaxed posture, and his almost playful tone gave Talvi hope Hakon might one day feel at home by his side.

“So you could still be swayed?”

Hakon’s grip on Talvi’s hand tightened. “We’ll see.”

“Good enough for me.” Actually, this was more than Talvi had hoped for. Only a few weeks had passed since Hakon had come to the citadel, disguised as a princess, and already Talvi couldn’t imagine going back to a life without him. Hakon fit into his life—and his bed—seamlessly.

The first day of the summer trip was always a short ride along the fjord to Astrid’s shipyard and her hall. There, on the first evening of the journey, the master shipbuilder hosted a sumptuous feast.

Talvi rarely cared much for festivities and socializing, but with Hakon at his side, it was a different story. He loved introducing Hakon to his chieftains and friends as his husband, offering him the place of honor at his side at the feast, and serving up the best food for him personally. And he was relieved by the friendliness Astrid and her clan treated Hakon with. The hall was filled with the delicious scent of the banquet, and Thyra was reciting a frivolous poem to the laughter of the other warriors.

“Can I offer you some more mead?” Astrid asked. Her brown eyes were already a little glazed over and she was more than a little drunk.

“No, thank you,” Talvi answered, putting a hand over his cup. It wouldn’t do to start their journey tomorrow with a hangover.

“What about you, Hakon?”

“One more can’t hurt.” A little tipsy himself, Hakon looked unfairly cute. But he could obviously handle the alcohol better than Talvi. Relaxed and chatting animatedly with Astrid about the craft of boatbuilding, he was easily the most gorgeous thing Talvi had ever seen.

“That’s my man,” Astrid laughed as she filled Hakon’s cup again. “Reminds me of the summer when Ahti was too drunk to mount her horse the morning after the celebration.”

Talvi chuckled, but Hakon regarded him with a worried expression. Touching Hakon’s thigh reassuringly under the table, Talvi smiled at his husband, and Hakon mirrored his gesture by covering Talvi’s hand with his. How could this hardened warrior be so adorably soft at times?

“Mother wasn’t amused,” Talvi said with a wistful smile. These were memories from more peaceful days when their whole little family had still been together.

“Yeah, Vellamo was so miffed with her wife,” Astrid giggled.

“I saw Vellamo fight as a boy,” Hakon said carefully, always so concerned not to upset Talvi with a careless word. “A duel with a chieftain who questioned her claim to the throne, I think. She was a fierce little woman.”

“Oh, she is,” Talvi said, leaning over to Hakon. He couldn’t stop watching the play of the shadows cast by the fire on his husband’s face. “She’ll adore you. Both my mothers will.”

Hakon 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 Hakon had dared to ask him something important. Leaning in a little closer still, Talvi brought his lips right to Hakon’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, Hakon 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. A vala can lose her path if she travels the more perilous roads. But she can always return—”

Hakon 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, Hakon? Do you want to celebrate some more, or would you prefer to go to bed?”

“I—” Hakon 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, Hakon pondered his words. He suddenly looked exhausted, and Talvi vowed to himself that he would be even more attentive to Hakon’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 Hakon 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 Hakon 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 Hakon undress and kissed him languidly for long minutes. Hakon 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.