Chapter 35
Thirty-Five
Bjorn
Bjorn woke with her draped across his chest the next morning, and he could not believe his luck. She was here with him. Still. They hadn’t talked about whether or not that meant she was staying for good, but even the gift of her memory would keep him going for ages to come.
Astrid was light incarnate, and she glowed when he touched her. Just as he had hoped she would. He would never forget the way she’d come alive in his arms and how much he had wanted to devour her whole. And then he had.
She’d let him touch her. Him. A man who had blood on his hands and who drifted in nightmares every evening.
He knew what he had done. He knew that there were so many ghosts haunting his steps, telling him that he wasn’t good enough for any of what he had been gifted.
And yet... She still allowed him to touch her.
She still graced the halls of this haunted home, and he wanted to do more.
Bjorn was not sure which god had looked down upon him kindly and thought he deserved this, but he still wasn’t sure that god had thought it through. He didn’t deserve this, and someday soon, he was certain it would all be ripped away.
So he was going to enjoy every single moment that he could.
He didn’t sleep while she did, instead taking in the beauty of her eyelashes that dusted her cheeks.
She slept so soundly with his arms around her, and he knew she didn’t always sleep like this.
He had seen her sleeping in the forest. She’d twitched and moved often, startled by any sound that came upon them.
He’d even seen a squirrel wake her so forcefully that she’d gasped as she’d sat up.
But lying on him? She slept like she didn’t have a care in the world. Astrid had no idea what a gift she was to him, especially after all the darkness that had found him for such a long time.
Eventually, though, he knew it was time to get up. The wisps were back to that horrid blinking, usually a sign that they were trying to turn on and mimic the sun that was above the mountain.
He’d forgotten what it was like to sleep here.
Years in the labyrinth had worn away at those memories too, but now he could almost remember the scent of fresh coffee in the air that his father had loved to brew.
Dag used to travel for months to get a store of it, dragging Bjorn along with him to see all the trolls who were more animal than man still.
Sighing, he shook his head to clear those memories away. He did not have to travel with his father any longer. This home might’ve been full of all those haunting memories, but he did not need to linger in them.
“Bright one,” he murmured, nuzzling his face into the silky strands of her hair. “We have to get up.”
Astrid groaned, tucking her face against his neck.
The sound made it seem like he’d asked her to move mountains, when all he needed was for her to get up so he could feed her.
There had to be something to eat in the kitchen.
Someone must have known that... Well, he supposed no one would have stocked it because no one had known he was returning.
He’d have to go get food. Which was fine, he supposed.
He slid out from underneath Astrid, arranging her body on the bed so he could leave without waking her.
After all, they’d been busy last night. He’d done enough to her that would tire any person out, and she’d been trying her very best to keep up with him.
The poor woman hadn’t realized just how creative he was.
And he was quite proud of that.
Bjorn pulled on his pants in the other room, not wanting his movement to wake her, and then headed out the front door.
If he was lucky, the market would already be set up, but not with many people.
Crowds were still difficult for him, as evidenced yesterday.
He’d been alone in a cell for such a long time, having all those bodies surrounding him felt like he was supposed to be fighting. Even though he knew he wasn’t.
But the moment he opened the door, he realized he had worried about nothing. Because there were already people walking up the path toward his new home.
He leaned against the door and waited there, watching as a green-bodied troll shouldered his way past the few brambles that had fallen in front of the path.
Gunnar’s hair was a wild mane around his head, tangled with curls that Bjorn didn’t remember being there.
He’d always been a handsome young man, but now he was even more so.
And then Astrid’s sister trailed along behind him, stoically allowing Gunnar to touch her with his hand on her back even though Bjorn could see how much she didn’t want him to.
Rose had a lot of work to do, he knew. That poor woman had been through far more than any of them would ever know.
He remembered her in the labyrinth. She had always been a shell of a woman, barely there no matter how many times she’d been given to others.
Even those men who had gotten her had whispered about how she was a hollow creature.
Behind them were Ragnar and Maia, the two of them fitting far better than he had expected.
He’d only seen them together a few times, and now he could see why they were well suited.
They were both muscular. Capable. They moved with the confidence of people who knew their bodies well and knew their own limits.
He would have been impressed if he hadn’t also noticed their arms were laden with food.
He waited until they were within earshot before calling out, “That’s quite a lot in your arms there, Ragnar. You sure you can carry that much?”
His lavender-skinned friend snorted. “I’d like to see you try.”
“I’ve carried more than that for miles on end. When was the last time you carried something heavy, healer?” He headed out to help, taking as much of the food as he could in his own arms and splitting the difference of weight.
Bjorn might have added a few more items to his own armload, just in case Ragnar had forgotten how strong he really was.
Maia snorted. “Considering how thin you are, Bjorn, I think you might need a few weeks of eating right before you get into a wrestling match with Ragnar.”
“Careful, fire hair.” Bjorn remembered the nickname from when he had last seen them together, although he wasn’t certain he should call her such a personal nickname.
He did so, though, to see Ragnar’s cheeks darken with disapproval.
“You might end up in the wrestling match, and I don’t think you’ll hold up against a troll. ”
With a hiss of sound, Ragnar wrapped his arm around his troll wife and tugged her against his side. “Don’t talk about wrestling with my wife.”
“Not while you’re here. Understood.” He heaved the food a little higher and headed into his home.
Depositing the food took only a few moments, and then he made his way into the bedroom to wake Astrid. She was already up though, sliding the spider silk dress over her arms like she had been born for it, and he...
Fuck, she was so beautiful.
Walking up behind her, he helped get the dress on until the hem kissed the floor and then framed her hips in his hands. He pressed against her, holding tightly to the woman he was so enamored with, and pressed a long kiss to her shoulder. “We have visitors.”
“I heard them,” she replied with a soft laugh. Turning in his arms, she blocked the kiss he would have given her with her hand. “And I heard you flirting.”
“Flirting?”
“Joking about wrestling with another woman?” He didn’t think she was entirely serious, although there was a spark of jealousy in her eyes that he had never seen before.
Bjorn nipped at her fingers. “It is hard for me to look at anyone else beyond the sight of your stunning beauty, bright one. I teased my oldest friend, saying what I knew would make him angry. But my eyes never strayed from you, nor did my heart ever skip a beat for another. You are without a doubt my guiding star. I would follow you through any darkness, Astrid. I would be a fool indeed to look anywhere else.”
The anger in her gaze turned molten. He could feel her using her power to see if he was being honest, and he wondered if she could tell if someone was lying. No wonder the lords of her kingdom had wanted to use her as much as they could. Her power was legendary.
Then she sighed and rolled her eyes. “Fine. As long as you aren’t looking at anyone else seriously.”
“Why would I? I have perfection right in front of me.” He leaned back, staring down at her body in that silk dress and marveling at her beauty. It was hard to not look like a dopey, love-sick moron, but by all the gods. She was remarkable.
“Bjorn, enough,” she said with a soft laugh. “You said we have visitors?”
“Your sister, my friends Gunnar and Ragnar, and Ragnar’s troll wife, Maia,” he replied. “They came with food and, I assume, for some other reasons.”
“You didn’t ask?”
“Why would I?” He shrugged. “They aren’t going to stay long.”
“Why would they not?”
“They brought food. We have it now. They can leave.” He frowned when she gasped at him like he’d said the sky was falling. “What?”
“They are guests, Bjorn! If they want to visit us, which they likely do, then we are going to let them visit. They can stay as long as they wish, and we will cater to them as is required. Good hosting is a talent I see you do not possess.”
Hosting?
Why would he ever be good at hosting people?
Frowning, he trailed after her as she headed out into the main room.
He was surprised to see that she was correct.
Both couples were still in the main living area waiting for them, although Rose and Maia appeared to be picking things up.
He didn’t like them doing that. If they were guests, as Astrid claimed, then they shouldn’t be working.
Slowly, he leaned over and grabbed a moth-eaten pillow from Rose’s hands. She froze like a deer in the sights of a hunter, staring at him with her pulse visibly thudding in her neck.
“You do not have to clean while you are here,” he said gently, placing the pillow back onto the couch. “This house has been in disrepair for many, many years. A few more hours won’t hurt it.”
But then Maia’s voice caught his attention, and it made everyone in the room freeze. “My god, she really does look like the princess.”
More silence followed that declaration, and Maia’s face turned a lovely shade of bright red as she realized what she had just said.
She probably shouldn’t have blurted that out, considering it was something that all of them knew, and it was likely something that made both Astrid and Rose uncomfortable.
Both of them looked remarkably like the princess, although perhaps Astrid looked more like that horrible woman. His bright one seemed to blink a few times, and then finally said very magnanimously, “It’s a good thing I don’t act like her.”
That seemed to ease the tension in the room. Ragnar scoffed at her words. “The kingdom wouldn’t survive that. The princess’s ego isn’t big enough for the rest of us to exist around. Let alone two of her.”
Then Gunnar pointed at Bjorn and said, “You should come with us. We thought you might want a tour of how things have changed since you were here last time, and it’ll be easier with two of us. No one will bother you like they have been. I heard your welcome was a little overwhelming.”
He didn’t want to leave his home. Part of that was the safety this cavern gave him, and the other part was that Astrid had yet to settle in.
He wanted to be the one here to help her.
To assist her. To show her the entire house and tell her stories about how he’d lived here as a boy and how easy it had been to get in trouble with his father insisting that he be perfect in everything that he did.
But Astrid looked him over and then grinned. “You should go. It might be good for you to reacquaint yourself with the city.”
Or it might make him worse. He feared that.
A soft touch of her magic stroked through his body, and suddenly he felt that anxiety lessen.
It was like all she had to do was yank on it a little harder than the other emotions, and that was enough for it to calm down.
Instead, he was able to feel the excitement that burned within him at the thought.
She hadn’t made him excited, it had always been there.
He just hadn’t been able to feel it through the anxiety that made everything so much harder.
“What will you do?” he asked, as though no one else was in the room with them.
She gestured to the other two women. “I assume they are here to help us make this ancient room a home. We’ll get things situated here.”
“That doesn’t seem fair. I shouldn’t be out adventuring while you’re here working.”
He didn’t like the idea of all three women cleaning the house while he and his oldest friends were out doing nothing. That was his role. He was supposed to take care of her. He was supposed to make her life easier, and right now, it felt like he was doing anything but.
Ragnar looped an arm around his shoulder and leaned down.
“They want to see that you two are settled and comfortable. This home is a tomb, Bjorn. It has been years since your father died. It’s not fit for anyone to live in.
Let us help you feel better about being back in Trollveggen, and let the women turn this bucket of dust into a home again. It’ll make them feel better.”
Bjorn eyed all the women, trying to make sure that was the truth. Astrid nodded a few times, Rose didn’t make eye contact with him, and Maia made shooing gestures with her hands. So he supposed it must’ve been all right.
Sighing, he headed over to Astrid and cupped the back of her neck. Gently, always so gentle, he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Do not do anything that makes you regret coming here. I just got you to my home, bright one. I refuse to lose you because you didn’t enjoy cleaning.”
She laughed. “Bjorn, I’ll be all right.” But then she paused and really looked at him, her magic pushing that anxiety down even farther. “Take care of yourself too.”
He planned on it. Because if he didn’t, then he wouldn’t get to return to this home with her.