Page 9

The feast was torture, although a different kind of torture than Hakon had expected. He sat next to Talvinen on a throne-like seat, as if he was indeed his royal consort and not a captured assassin. It was excruciating to wait for the beginning of whatever punishment Talvinen had planned for him, but the damned Vanr seemed to have endless patience while Hakon got more tense by the second.

Illuminated by hundreds of candles and warmed by a roaring fire in the center, the Great Hall of the citadel was bustling with guests. But although mead and ale were flowing freely, and the air was filled with music, the mood was dimmed. Hakon could imagine that the Vanir didn’t appreciate having one of their despised enemies in their midst, sitting next to their ruler, no less.

Plates of lavish food were served, and the smell made Hakon hungry and nauseated at the same time. To an outsider, he might look impassive, the epitome of the proud warrior uncaring of his fate, but his true feelings were a different story. How he wished his disregard for death was more than just a brave facade. But there was still a part of him that wouldn’t keep quiet, a part that wanted things he couldn’t quite describe, a fulfilling life before the honor of the cold Halls of the Dead.

“Would you like some reindeer?”

Already plating up the best pieces of the meat, Talvinen filled Hakon’s plate with vegetables and bread next.

“I—yes, reindeer is fine.”

Hakon eyed the offered food warily. It was an honor to be served first and by the prince regent no less, one he would never receive at his father’s court. But why he was treated like this was beyond him. Talvinen wouldn’t go to such lengths to feed him poison, would he? Would the Vanir consider it amusing to see him die a dishonorable death in front of a cheering audience?

“Hakon,” Talvinen nudged his shoulder. “Are you with me?”

Blinking, Hakon snapped out of his thoughts. “Sure.”

He hadn’t missed anything Talvinen had said to him over the noise of the feast, had he? But his husband continued to look at him expectantly and seemed to be waiting for an answer. On the battlefield, such a slip could easily have cost his life. If he wanted to survive, Hakon had to pay attention.

“Isn’t the mead to your liking?” Talvinen repeated after several seconds of silence. He seemed rather amused than annoyed, but his indulgence with Hakon could end at any time.

The cup of mead Talvinen had filled for him was still untouched. If only Hakon had known the rules of the game they were playing. But he didn’t understand the boy, and he wasn’t going to get drunk while trying to figure out what the Vanr was plotting.

“I’m not in the mood for drinking.”

Talvinen pointedly looked at Hakon’s plate. “And not hungry either after the day you’ve had?”

“Not particularly.”

It was a blatant lie. He was hungry, and the food Talvinen had served him looked good enough to offer to a king, but he couldn’t bring himself to eat. It wasn’t even the fear of being poisoned but the uncertainty that paralyzed him. Was this a trap or a test? Was he expected to dig in to show his fearlessness or was he expected to refuse to prove his wits?

“I see,” Talvinen said thoughtfully, taking a deep swig from his jeweled mead cup before offering it to Hakon. “How about we share?”

Pushing the cup into Hakon’s hand, Talvinen snatched a piece of meat from Hakon’s plate and started to chew. No poison then, unless—Hakon pushed the doubts away. He downed the mead in one go.

“See. That wasn’t so bad.”

Picking up a piece of bread, Hakon began to eat. He could feel Talvinen’s eyes on him. His husband watched him eat with a pleased expression, snatching a few bites from their shared plate now and then.

“What’s your favorite food?” Talvinen asked around a mouthful of stew.

“What?”

“Your favorite food. What do you like to eat?”

“I eat,” Hakon said gruffly.

“Oh, come on, mighty warrior. You must have some preferences.”

“Why would you want to know, anyway? Are you going to serve me my favorite every day?”

Talvinen only smiled that weird smile he often directed at Hakon. If Hakon hadn’t known better, he’d call it fond.

“Try me,” the boy implored.

“Honey cake. But your cooks will hardly know the right recipe. It’s all about the spices.”

“Maybe I can find someone who knows how to prepare it.”

Hakon’s heart started to beat faster. Gudrun. He needed to convince Talvinen that she would make a valuable addition to his household.

“I doubt that. I have heard the food in Vanaheim is tasteless. Even the old handmaid sent to accompany my sister could do a better job than your cooks.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see a soft smile spreading over Talvinen’s face.

“The old handmaid in your company, I see. What was her name again?”

“She’s called Gudrun,” Hakon said haltingly. “And she served my sister for many years.”

Although he feared to put Gudrun in even greater danger by showing any interest in her, Hakon needed to seize this opportunity.

“Shall I have her prepare your food?”

He didn’t have to pretend to be less than eager about the prospect. Having his food made by Gudrun would be a special kind of punishment. But it couldn’t be helped if he wanted to ensure Gudrun’s relative safety. Hakon shrugged.

“Wouldn’t go amiss to have a taste of home in this place.”

Cringing at his own words, Hakon looked up at his husband. What a stupid mistake to make. How could he hope that whining about homesickness would bring him any favors? But Talvinen didn’t seem to care.

“Very well. Gudrun should prepare your food then. She can attend to you, too, if that’s what you wish.”

“I’m not in need of a handmaiden,” Hakon growled, taken aback.

“Maybe not, but seeing a friendly face could be comforting.”

“I’m not in need of comfort, either.”

Talvinen chuckled. “Everyone needs some comfort once in a while. And I won’t deny my husband a confidant.”

The boy spoke as if he really intended to keep Hakon by his side, whatever twisted reasons he might have for it.

“How generous of you,” Hakon retorted, bitterness creeping yet again into his voice.

“I’m not your enemy.” Talvinen scrutinized him with such a piercing gaze as if his whole world revolved around Hakon. The thought made heat rise to Hakon’s face.

“Aren’t you?” Hakon scoffed.

“I’m not. Do you remember when we last met during the battle of Saeborg?”

“Darkly.”

The encounter had haunted his dreams for months afterward. The way the young warrior, who he hadn’t yet known was Talvinen, had offered him a place at his side with the cocky self-assurance of youth. The way he’d promised to fulfill his every wish as if Hakon were a person worthy of aspirations, had shaken him to the core.

‘You can join me if you ever decide to forsake your dishonorable king. I can give you everything you’ve ever wanted; glory, treasure, and recognition.’

The memory alone had a strange, fluttery feeling twisting in his stomach. Maybe the food had been poisoned after all.

“I understand that my word doesn’t mean much to you, but I need you to know that your life in Vanaheim doesn’t have to be miserable.”

“As long as I follow a few rules, I guess,” Hakon growled. Now they were getting to the heart of the matter, and although Hakon was quite sure he wouldn’t like what Talvinen wanted from him, it would be a relief to finally know what was expected from him.

“Well, I could do without your attempts to murder me, but don’t worry, I don’t expect you to make any promises you can’t keep. And I’m more than capable of taking care of myself.”

“Are you telling me you want nothing from me then?”

For a second Hakon thought he’d finally earned a punch in the face for his insolence. But instead, Talvinen kept looking at him as if he wanted to devour him. What in Hel’s name? Hakon’s clothes suddenly felt too tight.

“You have no idea, do you? How desirable you are. You’re brave and cunning and so gorgeous. The things I want from you—” Leaning close, Talvinen almost joined their lips again. His proximity made the elation of battle sing through Hakon’s veins. “We’ll have to consummate the marriage tonight and maybe bless a ritual at some point, which I’m very much looking forward to. But other than that, I want nothing from you that isn’t given willingly.”

Consummate the marriage? How?

“What are you talking about?” Hakon blurted.

He couldn’t mean—unless they—Oh. Oh! By Freyja’s tits.

Face heating, Hakon recoiled. He hadn’t expected the Vanir to take the marriage between men quite so far, but why was he surprised? He should’ve known better.

“Don’t worry,” Talvinen soothed as if he was talking to a spooked horse. “Let’s see, why don’t we leave this dull feast and get the rituals over with? I promise I won’t hurt you.”

Hakon lifted his chin, unwilling to let Talvinen see his insecurity.

“Fine with me,” he said through gritted teeth.

He followed Talvinen back to his chambers in a state of feverish confusion. Completing the wedding rites would be the worst ordeal of the day, and Hakon’s inexperience didn’t make it any better.

The royal quarters lay silent and dark, butTalvinen ignited the candles and had a merry fire crackling in the hearth with a languid wave of his hand.

Hakon watched him as he kicked off his boots carelessly and shed his tunic again. Bracing himself, Hakon stepped closer. This could be worse, he told himself. At least Talvinen wasn’t hideous. Hakon’s gaze followed the smattering of hair on Talvinen’s chest to where it thickened below his navel and disappeared in a dark trail under his belt. Where other warriors were built like mighty oaks, Talvinen was like a birch, tall, lean, and elegant, but strong nonetheless. Hakon could imagine that he was popular with the maidens.

Realizing he’d been staring, Hakon raised his eyes to find Talvinen regarding him with a predatory gaze.

“You can touch me if you want,” Talvinen offered with an inviting gesture.

Hakon’s fingertips tingled with the desire to comply.

“What would be the point of that?”

“Pleasure,” Talvinen said earnestly. “This is about duty to you, I know, but I want you to enjoy yourself. If you tell me what you like, I can make this so good for you.”

“What I like?” Hakon echoed. Although he understood the dialect of the Vanir well enough, it felt like Talvinen was speaking a completely foreign language most of the time, with half of the meaning lost in translation.

“When you lie with a lover, what do you enjoy?”

“I—” Hakon faltered. He couldn’t very well tell Talvinen that he didn’t have a clue because whenever people started to get undressed, he left. “You know what… why do you even care? We have a marriage to consummate.”

Fiddling with the brooches fastening Anya’s gown, Hakon let the silky robe slip down his shoulders. He kicked off his boots next, so he stood bare-chested in front of Talvinen, the light fabric of the wedding gown only held in place by the belt around his waist.

Talvinen regarded the interlaced tattoos covering Hakon’s chest and spiraling across his arms and shoulders with open wonder.

“Stupid Jotunn ,” Talvinen mumbled, but he sounded fond. “I care because of you. I want my husband to be happy.”

Lies and flattery, Hakon couldn’t afford to fall for that.

“Am I allowed to touch you?”

Yet again, Hakon had to doubt Talvinen’s sanity. He was a vala , a king in all but name. He had to know about the magic-repelling tattoos of the Jotnar . He had to know what danger they posed to any being possessing the gift of seier . If Talvinen was in his right mind, he should order Hakon to put on a shirt that covered his arms and chest and get down on his hands and knees. But, of course, the boy had to play dumb.

“Be my guest,” Hakon said, throat feeling too dry.

Would the tattoos hurt or even kill a vala ? Hakon had once seen a berserker on the battlefield fighting a witch. He had pressed the woman against his bare chest in a bear hug, making her shriek as if she’d been engulfed in flames. She must have died that day, although Hakon couldn’t tell if it was because of the magic-eating touch of the tattoos or by steel.

Talvinen was his husband now. Should Hakon tell him it wasn’t safe to touch the tattoos? Murdering him like this wasn’t worthy of a warrior, but—

“Wait!”

Hakon caught Talvinen’s hand before he could reach him; it felt warm to the touch, callused like a swordsman’s.

“Yes?”

Curling his fingers around Hakon’s in return, Talvinen didn’t push to break his grasp.

“You can’t do this. It’s dangerous.”

“Are we talking about your tattoos?”

“You should know what they do to a being of seier . How are you even alive, oblivious as you are?”

“Beings of seier ? Is that what Bergelmir told you we are?”

“Of course. You’re Vanir . Sorcerers. You teach magic even to your men.”

Chuckling, Talvinen leaned in closer. “Male sorcerers. Scandalous.”

“It’s a woman’s business,” Hakon grumbled, embarrassed even by the thought. Sex and sorcery were inextricably entwined, and a man, a warrior, shouldn’t allow his body to be used and filled like a woman’s. But it was precisely this humiliation that awaited him.

As Talvinen stepped forward, he had to back away to prevent him from making physical contact, but after only a few steps, Hakon bumped against a wall. He was trapped. A shiver of excitement ran down his spine. For a few breaths he managed to stop the descent of Talvinen’s hand, but the angle was all wrong. He couldn’t hold him at a distance for long if he didn’t want to outright attack him.

Talvinen pushed his palm flat against Hakon’s chest, making them both gasp. Hakon’s skin prickled, gooseflesh spreading across his arms.

“See, I’m no hedge witch. Your little protection spell is no match for my power.”

Covering Talvinen’s hand with both of his, Hakon leaned into the touch on pure instinct.

“You have a mighty spirit trapped in this ink,” Talvinen whispered reverently into the space between them. “How did you acquire it?”

“It’s not a spell and I’m not a vala ,” Hakon hurried to say. “I hunted and killed a white bear on a sacred quest.”

Talvinen’s eyes shone with curiosity.

“A heroic act, indeed.” Pressing his body against Hakon’s more firmly, Talvinen pinned him against the wall. Hakon let it happen, unexpected heat gathering in his belly. “You realize that most pay a witch to catch a spirit for them.”

Snapping his eyes open—he hadn’t even noticed when they had started closing—Hakon tried to focus on the conversation.

“That would be an act of dishonor. You can’t buy such a deed.”

“You have no idea what services people pay volur for, dróttning ,” Talvinen said; as if he were the older among them and knew all the workings of the worlds. To Hakon’s surprise, he didn’t sound condescending. “You have no idea how many highborns use seier as a shortcut to increase their power.”

“Not among the Jotnar ,” Hakon argued weakly, although he knew very well how wrong his words were.

“You’re a bad liar, Hakon Bloodaxe. I like it. Can I kiss you?”

“Y–yes.”

The sweet words and soft touches had Hakon almost drunk. He feared what Talvinen could do to him, and he craved it. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to lull his enemy into a sense of security, he reasoned.

Closing the gap between them slowly, Talvinen gave him time to change his mind, to turn away, before he joined their lips in the sweetest of kisses. This time Hakon opened readily, eager to allow Talvinen to lick into his mouth and nibble at his bottom lip. Talvinen’s hand sneaked up to cradle Hakon’s neck, and Hakon felt himself relax in response, head tilting back to rest in Talvinen’s grip. He could stay like this forever, lost in the mesmerizing feeling of Talvinen’s tongue gently caressing his. When Talvinen retreated after what felt like an eternity, Hakon gasped for air. It seemed like he’d forgotten how to breathe for a moment.

“What do you enjoy?”

The question pulled him out of his comfortable little cocoon of pleasant sensations, reality crashing down on him like a wave of icy seawater. They were here to complete the marriage rites, and Talvinen demanded an answer Hakon had no idea how to give without embarrassing himself beyond redemption.

“Just get it over with,” Hakon growled and tried to pull away, but Talvinen wouldn’t let him, instead pinning him down with his body weight. If Hakon didn’t want to start a fistfight, he had to stay where he was.

“Fine, let me put it another way. When I take you to bed now, what do you need? And what do I have to avoid so you can feel safe?”

“I’m not a maiden! I can handle this.”

Something like anger sparked in Talvinen’s eyes.

“Gods, you’re so stubborn! I know you can handle this, but you don’t have to. In fact, you won’t.”

“What?”

Gripping Hakon’s wrist, Talvinen pulled him towards the huge bed. Too stunned to resist, Hakon stumbled after him.

“Hold still,” Talvinen ordered, turning to face him.

Hakon froze as Talvinen started opening the belt, unfastening Hakon’s gown with skillful movements. To Hakon’s mortification, a simmering heat pooled in his belly. It was stupid and dangerous, but the way Talvinen told him what to do was exhilarating. It should make him feel angry, lacking, but instead, Hakon almost enjoyed it. The expensive fabric slipped to the floor, pooling around Hakon’s ankles and leaving him standing naked in front of his husband. The sheer intensity Talvinen regarded him with had a new wave of heat crawl over Hakon’s skin, making his cock twitch. What in Hel’s name?

“On the bed. Lie on your side. Face away from me.”

Hakon shuddered. Scrambling to get on the bed, he was almost relieved. This he could do. He could follow orders. He could endure pain and humiliation. If it meant fulfilling his duty and protecting Anya, it would be worth it.

The bed dipped, and he could feel Talvinen’s warm body settling against his back. Hakon tensed.

“Relax. Lean against me.”

Talvinen’s arm curled around his waist, his warm hand resting on Hakon’s belly.

“Are you comfortable?”

“It doesn’t matter if—”

“Yes or no?” Talvinen interrupted him, a sharpness to his tone Hakon hadn’t heard before.

“Yes.”

It wasn’t even a lie.

“Good boy,” Talvinen purred, pulling Hakon back to rest even more cozily against his chest and entangling their legs. “There you go. You’re doing so well. Now close your eyes and breathe.”

Taking a shuddering breath, Hakon felt himself melting into the warmth of the body behind him. Talvinen caressed his chest and flanks in a soothing rhythm. Hakon could fall asleep like that.

“You will tell me if you dislike something,” Talvinen said. “This is an order; I won’t discuss it.”

Hakon’s first impulse was to consent. He wished it could be easy like this. If he’d lived in the days of old, he would’ve pledged his allegiance to a just and powerful king, one of the kind of Erling Dragonslayer. It would’ve been so easy to follow the orders of a fair leader. When Talvinen talked to him like this, Hakon longed to trust him. But he couldn’t let himself be fooled. The days of Erling were long gone, and Hakon was bound by blood to a king who had nothing else in mind but to increase his own power.

“Don’t be daft, boy,” Hakon growled. “You are going to fuck me. I won’t pretend to like it, but I won’t complain either.”

The soft exhale of Talvinen’s breath tickled his neck.

“You don’t know me at all. Yet. I wasn’t planning to fuck you. Not that I wouldn’t love to have you spread out under me, writhing in pleasure on my cock, begging for more.”

A sudden image filled Hakon’s mind. He saw himself on his back, pillowed on silken sheets and spreading his legs like a woman for Talvinen to kneel in between. Hot excitement flooded through his veins.

Groaning, Hakon covered his eyes as if he could block the unbidden fantasy this way. Still, he was painfully hard. Nearly jumping out of his skin in surprise when Talvinen gently closed his hand around Hakon’s throbbing cock, he choked on a moan.

“That’s much better. Now spread these beautiful legs for me a little wider.”

Hakon obeyed, hands fisting the sheets.

With soft, measured strokes, Talvinen began pumping his cock. It was a stark contrast to all the times Hakon had taken himself in hand like this. Getting off had been a necessity. A warrior’s body needed relief once in a while, just as it needed food and sleep; a vaguely pleasurable chore, like sharpening a blade. This was something entirely different.

“You’re being so good for me. Looking at you is like looking at broken ice sparkling in the sun. Breathtaking. Entrancing. So gorgeous,” Talvinen breathed into his ear.

Hakon had always prided himself on not being one to fall for sweet talk. But Talvinen’s praise only fanned the fire burning in his veins. Gasping, Hakon struggled to stay still. The simple touch alone was almost more than he could take. Holding onto the pillows for dear life, he stopped himself from reaching down and covering Talvinen’s hand with his own, with some difficulty.

“Would it help you if I tied your hands the next time?” Talvinen asked.

He was a dangerous one, way too perceptive. Talvinen’s left arm snaked under Hakon’s body, and before Hakon could gather his wits, Talvinen grabbed his wrists and pressed them against Hakon’s chest. It wasn’t that he couldn’t have broken free of the grip if he’d put his mind to it. But Talvinen’s clasp was a welcome resistance he could lean against. It only added to Hakon’s pleasure. And even better, it allowed him to savor the moment, pretending he had no choice. Which, of course, was true on some level. They had to consummate their marriage. But, at the same time, Hakon was sure that if he begged Talvinen to stop, he would. The boy was a softhearted fool like that. The notion was ridiculous, but oddly… nice.

“Wh—what makes you think there will be a next time?” Hakon panted to distract himself from his wild thoughts.

“Why don’t you let me take care of you first and deny you liked it later?”

An indignant sound escaped Hakon’s lips. He pressed his face into the pillow, eyes squeezed shut.

“Hakon?”

He didn’t have the capacity to answer, the rising pleasure almost too much to handle. Talvinen’s strokes slowed and faltered.

“ Hel , I can’t—”

“Don’t stop!” Hakon blurted.

“Come again?”

“It’s our duty. We have to—”

“Shove your duty up Bergelmir’s ass! I rule in Vanaheim and I won’t make you suffer.”

By the gods, why did the boy have to say it out loud? Why did he have to give Hakon a way out? This honorable attitude made him desire his husband even more. And as if to prove Hakon’s depravity, his cock twitched in Talvinen’s grip, wetness appearing at his tip. Of course, the boy noticed, brows furrowing adorably.

“What shall I do with you, dróttning ? You’re giving me quite mixed signals.”

Groaning in frustration—because why couldn’t Talvinen just get it over with?—Hakon turned his head as far as he could and smashed their lips together in a sloppy kiss. They needed to consummate this blasted marriage if Hakon wanted to make sure Anya stayed safe and, for the first time in his life, his body had decided he wanted this.

“ Hel ,” Talvinen growled against his mouth, but thankfully started his movements again.

The touch was so delicious that it took mere seconds before Hakon was moaning again; the sound thankfully swallowed to some degree by Talvinen’s lips. Back arching, Hakon felt white-hot pleasure building from the base of his spine.

“Just like that,” Talvinen purred, abandoning ravishing Hakon’s mouth for a second. “So good. So beautiful.”

Writhing in Talvinen’s arms, Hakon was engulfed by pleasure. The exquisite feeling drowned everything out, all doubts and insecurities gone. Stars exploding behind his closed eyelids, Hakon came with a strangled wail.

He must’ve lost a few seconds because when his vision cleared again, he was on his back, Talvinen hovering above him. A few curls of his ink-black hair had fallen into his face, and his eyes seemed to glow in the dim light, lending him an ethereal appearance. It was as if he was a king of old who had risen from his burial mound to walk among the mortals again.

Talvinen leaned down to kiss him deeply, and Hakon could feel the hot, hard length of his cock pressed against his thigh. Shuddering, Hakon tried to focus. They weren’t done yet. Allowing Hakon a little pleasure before he was going to be used had been courteous of his husband, but nothing more.

Breaking the kiss and pulling back a little, Talvinen regarded him with shining eyes.

“Are you all right?”

What was that supposed to mean?

“I’m good,” Hakon croaked. It was true. Still feeling almost drunk from the pleasure, his body hadn’t realized yet that he was going to be fucked soon. He should fear neither humiliation nor pain, anyway.

Talvinen smiled at him.

“Do you mind?” He took Hakon’s wrists in one hand again, placing them firmly above Hakon’s head. “You look so beautiful spread out for me, but just say a word and I’ll release you.”

Being trapped and held down sent a fresh jolt of excitement through Hakon’s veins. This was way too close to his darkest fantasies. He had tried to block out these abominable images for years, too ashamed to even entertain them in the privacy of his cot, but they were still vivid in his mind. Hakon had to bite back a moan.

“I don’t mind,” he managed with some difficulty.

Talvinen kissed him again.

“Good. You can change your mind, though. I won’t be mad.”

“You talk too much. Get it over with already.”

“So impatient. Can you hold still for me?” Talvinen emphasized his words by pressing down on Hakon’s wrists more firmly before releasing him.

“Sure,” Hakon rasped, although being told to hold still didn’t bode well. That could only mean pain awaited him.

“Good.”

Talvinen caressed Hakon’s arms and chest before his hands settled on the insides of Hakon’s thighs, pulling them firmly apart. Hakon felt vulnerable and exposed, but at the same time, his body thrummed with excitement. How could his husband stand to look at him like this? Hakon closed his eyes.

“Hmm, you’re a mess,” Talvinen purred.

And why did he sound as if he’d slipped down Hakon’s body, his face almost level with his groin?

“So, how about I help you clean up a bit?”

Huh?

Hakon nearly jumped out of his skin as his husband licked a broad stripe from his hipbone to his navel, cleaning away the mess of Hakon’s come just like he’d promised. Of course, Hakon knew men found it pleasurable to have a woman take their cock in her mouth. He had seen whores do it on occasion, and he wouldn’t have been surprised if Talvinen had shoved his cock down Hakon’s throat for his own pleasure. But why would his husband humble himself by doing this to Hakon?

Continuing his gentle ministrations, Talvinen mouthed at Hakon’s cock, sucking the come from the tip. An undignified whine slipped past Hakon’s lips at the sensation. This was indecent. Forbidden.

It felt so good.

“Are you enjoying this?” Talvinen asked, mischief lacing his words.

“It’s hmmm —it’s bearable,” Hakon managed, his voice sounding uncharacteristically breathy.

Daring to glimpse at his husband, he found Talvinen smirking at him. He looked utterly wicked, his lips red and glistening, his curls tousled. A deity of sex and magic.

“I’ll take that as a win for now. Tell me if it gets too much.”

Letting himself fall back into the pillows, Hakon stared up at the canopy of the bed. It was better than looking at Talvinen.

“I’m not a maiden. I won’t be overstrained by your little bedroom spell,” Hakon grumbled.

He felt Talvinen’s laughter vibrating against his body, sending a pleasant shudder right to his cock.

“Good to know.”

And with that, Talvinen leaned back down and continued to drive Hakon insane. He didn’t stop when Hakon was clean, but kept on licking Hakon's cock and belly. Digging his fingers into the flesh of Hakon’s thighs, he applied pressure here and massaged there, making Hakon’s limbs turn liquid. Talvinen took his time, and when he started applying a sweet-smelling oil to Hakon’s skin while simultaneously caressing Hakon’s cock with his mouth as if he was really enjoying it, Hakon was hard again.

When Talvinen had touched him the first time that night, it had felt urgent. A quick relief. Not exactly like the times Hakon had touched himself, but not completely different either. What Talvinen was doing to him now was in a different world. Hakon whined, mindless with lust. He could feel the oil trickle down between his legs, warm and slick and so pleasurable . Even during the dance of battle, he’d never felt so good, so alive .

The pad of Talvinen’s thumb slipped between Hakon’s cheeks, right down to caress his—

Flinching, Hakon’s whole body tensed. Right, they were here to—

“Shhh, I won’t breach you. But the outer rim is sensitive, too. It can be nice to just be touched there. Do you like it?”

It should be mortifying to have a virtual stranger touching the most intimate part of his body. But the reality was shockingly different. The feeling of Talvinen’s thumb drawing lazy circles around his hole was intoxicating. Maybe he had bewitched Hakon into surrendering his body, but at this moment, Hakon didn’t find it in himself to care. Whining low in his throat, he must’ve nodded his consent. But he was so overwhelmed with mind-numbing pleasure that he wasn’t sure whether his body still obeyed him. Talvinen drew out the exquisite torture until Hakon thought he’d burst into a thousand fragments like the bow of a warship splintering on the cliffs if he wouldn’t be allowed to come, and soon.

“Please,” he might have whimpered, although the Jotnar did not beg.

Mouth retreating from Hakon’s cock with an obscene sound, Talvinen regarded him with dark glee.

“Anything you want,” he whispered, voice sounding as wrecked as Hakon felt.

He crawled back up, covering Hakon’s body, his warmth welcome and exhilarating. Talvinen offered him his open palm, but through the haze of lust, Hakon wasn’t sure what to do with it.

“Lick.”

The word was spoken softly, but it was an order, nonetheless. And it was so easy to follow those. Hakon didn’t hesitate to wet his husband’s palm and fingers with his tongue.

“Yeah, just a bit more. You’re doing so well.”

Reveling in the praise, Hakon doubled his efforts, but all too soon Talvinen retreated his hand. However, Hakon’s disappointment was short-lived when Talvinen pulled down his own breeches and took them both in hand. The sensation of another man’s cock against his own, sheathed by Talvinen’s firm, slick grasp, had Hakon arching his back in pleasure. He barely managed to keep his hands above his head, trying to stay still even as his body shook with lust.

“You’re gorgeous in battle, but even prettier like this, panting and shaking under me. Come for me, my beloved husband.”

Considering what they were doing, Talvinen sounded way too coherent. But Hakon noted with some satisfaction that his husband was shaking, too.

“Come for me,” Talvinen chanted, his grip around their cocks tightening and hips rocking forward. “Come for me.”

Hakon could feel Talvinen’s body locking up, his cock convulsing against Hakon’s and the first splays of hot cum splattering across Hakon’s chest. Gasping, Hakon followed him over the edge, his whole body shaking in ecstasy.

Talvinen collapsed on top of him, pressing soft kisses behind Hakon’s ear.

“Can you feel my seed all over you? How it mingles with yours?” Talvinen whispered reverently. “This shall consummate our marriage, marking you as mine and me as yours.”

How Hakon wished these promises would be more than empty words. The way Talvinen cuddled him and spread kisses all over his face almost made him believe in this dream for a while. But all too soon, he sensed Talvinen’s breathing change as he prepared to get up.

“As nice as this is—” Talvinen mumbled and rose to a kneeling position. “I’ll be right back.”

Right. The marriage was consummated, the rituals fulfilled, so of course Talvinen had no interest in him beyond that. Hakon forced himself to his feet, although his legs were trembling, barely able to support his weight. Better to die standing when Talvinen decided to get rid of him.

Using a sheet, he swiped the mess on his belly away and stumbled towards the door. Was there a chamber where he was supposed to sleep? Would he be dragged back to the dungeons? Or would Talvinen strike him down where he stood?

He made it as far as the door before he nearly collided with Talvinen. As he recoiled, Hakon almost lost his balance on the marble floor.

Talvinen had put on a fine silken robe decorated with runes and magical symbols, but hadn’t bothered to close it. In stark contrast to his regal appearance, he balanced a tray of food and a collection of towels as if he were a thrall attending to Hakon.

“Where are you headed?”

“I—” Hakon fumbled for words. “Where am I to sleep?”

Talvinen regarded him with a puzzled expression.

“In bed? With me?” The boy’s face fell. “As long as you don’t want to have a guest room prepared.”

“Your bed?” Hakon must’ve misheard. Allowing him to stay the night would mean treating him like an actual spouse.

“Wait a minute, what were you thinking?”

“You have your marriage,” Hakon pointed out, unsure where this discussion was going. “You can get rid of me now.”

Talvinen’s features softened. “Get back to bed, my husband.”

Hakon obeyed. He could feel the exhaustion catching up with him, his body drained from fighting and fucking. Although he tried to hide his weakened state from Talvinen, he was sure the boy needed only one look at him to figure out that Hakon was easy prey.

“Lie on your back. I’ll clean you up.”

“I can do so myself,” Hakon said. He suspected Talvinen wouldn’t listen to his claims, but the need to show strength was too deeply ingrained in him. If he’d shown such weakness at his father’s court, he’d be dead. So why did Talvinen bother with him? The Vanr was neither stupid nor powerless. He must have a plan Hakon couldn’t figure out yet.

“Shhh, you don’t have to. Let me tend to you just tonight.”

So he allowed Talvinen to clean him. Almost dozing off because of the gentle touches, Hakon didn’t find it in himself to care. Not tonight. Once satisfied with his work, Talvinen covered him with a blanket.

“You can sleep soon. But drink some water first, and I want you to have a few more bites. Here.”

Drinking greedily from the offered cup, Hakon only now realized how thirsty he was. Talvinen procured a plate with a sweet-smelling cake next. He scooped the food up with his bare hands and brought it to Hakon’s lips. Hakon froze.

“It’s customary to feed your spouse on the wedding night,” Talvinen said when he noticed Hakon’s hesitation. “It symbolizes that I’ll be looking after you. I’ll make sure you’re always cared for and protected.”

Why? Why did the boy have to say these things?

“I don’t need—” Hakon started, but bit his lips. Why should he lie? Whether he liked it or not, he needed Talvinen’s protection. He’d die the moment he lost it.

Hakon took a careful bite.

The cake tasted delicious. Like at the feast, Hakon was sure he was fed the best food the Vanir had to offer, and he reveled in his husband’s gentle care almost against his will.

“Thank you,” Hakon mumbled between bites.

Talvinen smiled at him. “You’re welcome.”

When he finally was satisfied, Talvinen cleaned their hands and Hakon’s face of the sticky remains of the dish and ordered him to lie down. Hakon did what he was told without hesitation.

“Do you mind if I hold you?”

“What?”

“Come here, try it. Rest your head on my chest.”

Hakon obeyed as if in a trance. He was tired, and beginning to feel cold. So why shouldn’t he share the warmth with his husband?

He drifted off to Talvinen’s even breathing and to the soft feeling of his skin against Hakon’s. It was stupid, but in the Vanr’s embrace, he felt safe.