24. The Frostland Throne
When the silhouette of his father’s great hall appeared behind the bend of the fjord, Hakon was overcome by a feeling of unease. The wind howled like a wild creature and tore at their sails and banners as if in warning. Utgard itself, dark and menacing, lay like a sleeping dragon at the edge of the fjord. It seemed unreal that it had been less than a year since Hakon had set sail from this very beach to assassinate the King of Vanaheim. Today he’d returned, not as Bergelmir’s undesired bastard son, not even as a successful conqueror as he’d hoped, but as the beloved husband of the very king he’d been sent to kill.
Panic broke out among the few Jotnar on the beach as the Vanr longships glided ashore one by one, supported by Talvi’s seier . After the night Svanhild had killed him and Talvi had returned from the Halls of the Dead unscathed, he was more dangerous than ever, and perhaps Hakon should be afraid of him. But he wasn’t.
“Bergelmir will not be pleased to see us,” Hakon mumbled, even as he watched the few warriors who spotted them rush into the hall, terrified. His father obviously hadn’t expected them to make it through the ice. Maybe he hadn’t expected them to make the journey at all, using his message only to taunt Hakon.
“I’m counting on it.” Laughing, Talvi leapt to shore, youthful and brave and insanely powerful. “Come.” He beckoned to Hakon invitingly. “I want to meet your sister.”
Overcome by the giddiness of impending battle, Hakon followed him.
It felt strange walking up to the hall, flanked by Talvi and Gudrun, Isbani in his bear form at their heels. Hakon knew every inch of the land from the fjord to the vast mountain ranges beyond, but in Jotunheim he’d always been Bergelmir’s bastard son—looked down at and replaceable. Talvi made him feel like he’d returned as a king in his own right.
Nobody tried to stop them, and as they approached Utgard’s gates, Talvi opened the heavy wooden doors with a smooth gesture. Hakon watched the protective runes decorating the huge timber frame light up and extinguish one after one as the seier of Bergelmir’s priestesses failed.
As they entered the hall, Talvinen’s warriors in tow, the discord of the feast inside died down into a tense silence. All eyes turned toward them. At the far end of the room, seated on the magnificent Frostland Throne carved from the bones of a dragon, was Bergelmir. The king glared at them with open hatred, but for the very first time in his life, Hakon wasn’t afraid of him.
“Kill them,” Bergelmir shouted, not even bothering with feigned hospitality. “What are you standing there gawking at? Kill them all!”
But instead of attacking them, the warriors lingered indecisively, hands on the hilts of their weapons.
“Is this how you greet your future king?” From the back of the hall, Anya’s voice rang out, loud and clear. She stepped into the light of the fires uncowed, dressed in splendid robes and carrying a beautiful golden bow. She was accompanied by a few priestesses and a small retinue of warriors, and she grinned at Talvi.
Returning her smile, Talvi’s eyes sparkled with a mischief Hakon knew all too well. Had Talvi somehow managed to contact Anya? Had the two of them been planning some kind of courtly uprising?
“Silence, girl!” Bergelmir rose from his seat, reaching for his ax.
Finally, his sworn warriors—the maybe dozen men sitting closest to him, wearing his golden rings and silver bracelets—gathered around their chieftain. Stepping in front of Talvi, Hakon’s hand closed around the hilt of his sword, ready to challenge his father to a duel.
“Hakon!” Bergelmir’s lips curled into a sneer. “You’ve always been a disappointment, boy. A bastard who thought he could rise above his station. And now you come here at the side of this—this vala .” His gaze flicked to Talvi. “Do you think this cursed union will earn you the Frostland Throne?”
There was a strange quality to Bergelmir’s voice, something unsteady in his gaze Hakon hadn’t seen there before. Fear. The realization hit him like a punch to the liver. Bergelmir was afraid.
“I came here to tell you that my sister won’t marry a stinking coward like Jorulf,” Hakon said. He hadn’t yet spotted the man to whom his sister had been promised. Maybe Jorulf hadn’t arrived to claim his prize.
“Watch your tongue, boy,” Bergelmir snarled. “Do you think you have a say in this? You’re nothing but—”
Bergelmir was interrupted by a sharp cracking noise. It sounded like a snow slab breaking loose. Talvi’s seier . A whirl of frost surged past Hakon, freezing Bergelmir’s men where they stood, their mouths open in silent screams as their bodies were encased in jagged ice.
Shocked silence filled the hall.
Unable to avert his gaze, Hakon stared at the frozen warriors. Hel , Bergelmir should be afraid of Talvi’s wrath.
“No,” Hakon finally said. “You’ve got it all wrong, Father . You’re the one who no longer has anything to say regarding this matter.”
Bergelmir gaped at him, and Hakon was overcome by elation. He’d never dared to consider such a scenario, for he’d known that the very thought of defying his father was a dangerous path, and he could all too easily have dragged Anya and Gudrun into the abyss with him. But now he was free to do as he saw fit. Even better, Talvi’s protection allowed him to oppose his father without fearing for his own life over a few words of disagreement. The freedom it afforded him felt dizzying. It was as if he’d downed a horn of mead in one go.
“So that’s how it is?” Bergelmir said, disdain thick in his voice. “First you kill your brother, and then you have the nerve to come here to try to kill me and usurp the throne? You ungrateful little—” The temperature in the hall dropped tangibly and the hearth fire flickered as if even the flames were recoiling in fear. Talvi stepped to Hakon’s side.
“Offend my husband one more time, and you’ll join your warriors. I’ll gladly make sure that your entire court watches you choke to death inside the ice.” Talvi’s voice was as cold as a winter’s night, and a sliver of frost began to creep along the floor, spreading outward from Talvi’s feet. Bergelmir’s guests backed away, the remaining warriors shifting uncomfortably. No one dared to draw their weapon. Bergelmir’s sneer faltered as the frost inched closer. Scrutinizing Talvi, he seemed to choose his next words carefully. He addressed them to Hakon.
“Do you really want me dead?” Seeing Bergelmir standing before his throne, abandoned by his clan, had something unreal about it. He’d always seemed so imposing to Hakon. The most dangerous man in Jotunheim. Now, in the span of just a few minutes, he’d shrunk to an old chieftain haggling for his life, too frightened to ride into the Halls of Hel . “Haven’t I always been fair to you?” Bergelmir went on. “I took you into my hall after your mother’s death. I have raised you into a great warrior.”
“It’s your fault she’s dead!” Hakon yelled. At the thought of his mother, his vision clouded with unshed tears. “Don’t you dare pretend your betrayal of her was kindness!”
He could feel Talvi’s reassuring presence next to him, protective and grounding. Bergelmir only stared, shocked into silence, and Hakon suddenly knew what he had to do.
“You ascended the Frostland Throne by betrayal, and by betrayal your reign shall end.” Hakon’s voice was deceptively steady.
“Thrym wasn’t the rightful king!”
“And neither are you! Jotunheim has always been ruled by strength, and your strength has waned.”
Bergelmir’s frost-pale features froze in horror.
“But I’m not as disloyal as you are,” Hakon growled. “I won’t murder you in your own hall like a coward. I offer you a duel, a fair fight for the throne. You can even name a champion.”
The shrewd gleam Hakon knew all too well returned to his father’s eyes, but Hakon wouldn’t be a pawn in Bergelmir’s games any longer.
“However, if your warrior dies, you die with him.”
Utgard’s hall was dead silent, and Hakon waited.
“Or you leave.” Hakon took a step to the side, opening the way to the door for his father. “Whoever wants to accompany you is free to do so. And I’m sure one of your old friends will offer you a place by his fire. But you’ll never set foot in Jotunheim or King Talvinen’s realm again. If you do, I won’t be so polite anymore.”
Bergelmir opened his mouth, and Hakon could sense Talvi readying himself. But the king didn’t utter a sound.
And then he stepped down from the throne.
Just like that.
Hakon felt a little detached, a little dreamlike.
With a whispered command, Talvi freed the frozen warriors. Most of them collapsed to their knees, gasping and shivering.
“You may accompany your chieftain,” Talvi said. “Or you pledge your swords to your rightful king. Make sure you mean it.”
Rightful king? Gods, Talvi meant him. Hakon searched for Anya’s gaze, and she responded with a radiant smile.
Fewer warriors than Hakon would’ve expected followed Bergelmir. If his father hadn’t forfeited all the warm feelings Hakon had harbored for him by trying to hurt Talvi and Anya, Hakon would have felt sorry for him. As it was, there was only a vague sadness expanding in his chest.
Bergelmir walked past him, a look of pure hatred contorting his features. Hakon would have to make sure that his loved ones stayed safe.
“You even look like him ,” Bergelmir growled under his breath.
Who?
The hiss of an arrow made Hakon flinch. He positioned himself protectively in front of Talvi, but he needn’t have worried. Hakon stared at the arrow stuck in Bergelmir’s back. The old king stumbled, and another arrow pierced his neck. Silently, Bergelmir collapsed, blood staining his white fur collar. Disbelievingly, Hakon looked up to where Anya stood next to the throne, bow still in hand.
“I’m sorry, my king,” Anya said, eyes wide and face pale, but her voice was as steady as her hand. “I couldn’t let him live. If you knew what I know, you wouldn’t have either. You secured Vanaheim for us, and that ungrateful creature had nothing better to do than plot your death.” She walked over to him and then, gracefully, Anya sank to one knee, ignoring the corpse of their father only a few inches away from her. “If you disapprove of my actions, I’ll accept any punishment, but I couldn’t watch him plot and scheme against his own son any longer, against our best warrior.”
“Stand up,” Hakon said helplessly. He’d never punish his little sister for killing the man who’d ruled over both their lives with an iron fist. “He tried to ruin your life by forcing you into an unhappy marriage. It was your right to kill him.” Jumping to her feet, Anya pulled him into a crushing hug. Only when she was wrapped in Hakon’s embrace did she start trembling, crying softly against his shoulder. Vaguely, Hakon registered Talvi giving orders, securing the hall, and instructing men to carry Bergelmir’s corpse out. Hakon was so grateful to have him, he would’ve had no idea what to do without his wonderful husband.
Composing herself, Anya pulled away from him. “Ready?” she asked quietly.
“No.”
She smiled and wiped away her tears before turning to the assembled crowd. The Jotnar were silent, stunned by the turn of events.
“ Jotnar !” Anya called. “Bow to your new king! Kneel for Hakon Bloodaxe!”
Hakon exhaled. Then he stepped in front of the Frostland Throne, turning to face his clan.
“My father was a great warrior once. But these times have long passed.” Hakon’s voice didn’t waver. “Cowardice and intrigue have ruled in Jotunheim for far too long. But this changes tonight. We’ll have trade with Vanaheim again and rich plunder in the lands of the ?sir . The time of downfall is over!”
The warriors roared their approval, not only Talvi’s Vanir and Anya’s men, but the whole hall. Hakon would’ve never expected that the Jotnar would follow him that easily.
“All hail, Hakon Bloodaxe!” Gudrun shouted, and the men echoed her call.
Hakon waited until the cheering subsided. “And if one of you is dissatisfied with my rule, we can settle any disagreement with a duel.”
“Also remember that you’ll have to go through me first if you want to harm him,” Talvi growled, and with a swift gesture of his hand, he covered the yellowed bones of the Frostland Throne with a glittering layer of ice that made the whole chair look like it had been carved from rock crystal.
A vala weaving such a powerful seier , and a male one at that, was unheard of in Jotunheim. The Jotnar stared in wonder.
“May I?” Talvi gently touched Hakon’s brow, and he could feel the weight of a crown settling on his head. Judging by Talvi’s mischievous grin, Hakon could imagine that his husband had whisked something similar to Anya’s ice flower circlet into existence. Talvi pressed an adoring kiss to his lips before he allowed Hakon to step up to the throne.
“All hail, Hakon Bloodaxe, King of Jotunheim.”
When they finally retreated to the hurriedly redecorated chambers of the king, Hakon was dead on his feet. For hours, he’d sat on the Frostland Throne, Talvi, Anya, and Gudrun at his side, and accepted the pledges of fealty from his father’s warriors. There were new men and women in whom Hakon intended to place his trust too—his own lie as well as the warriors loyal to Gudrun and Anya—but he couldn’t reshape the powers that ruled the whole kingdom in one evening.
“How do you feel?” Talvi had been an anchoring presence during the whole evening, leaving no doubt that Hakon had his unwavering support, and no one had dared to question them.
“Tired.” Hakon sighed. “And I can’t sleep in here.”
Only now did the reality of the situation begin to sink in. These were his father’s chambers, the chambers of the king. And Bergelmir was dead.
Sending Bergelmir’s bed a judgy glance, Talvi made the whole thing vanish, replacing it with a new one. Furs, pillows, and blankets were next.
“At the mound, you said it’s difficult to procure something out of thin air,” Hakon grumbled as he took off his crown. It was a marvelous thing, shiny as if made from polished ice and glowing with a blue hue from inside.
“I said it’s difficult to fly,” Talvi retorted, grinning. “Now get in bed, King of Jotunheim.”
“I won’t be able to sleep.”
Talvi hummed, his gaze turning predatory. “Is that so?”
A shudder ran down Hakon’s spine. “Not here, you savage,” he said, aiming for stern, but sounding rather breathless instead.
“Shall I raze this blasted hall to the ground then and build you a new one?”
“Talvinen! No.”
Amusement sparkling in his eyes, Talvi circled him. “Undress. And on the bed with you. I desire to help my husband sleep.”
What was left of Hakon’s resistance melted away. Doing as Talvi told him felt comforting, and it was so easy to obey him. Hakon slipped out of his clothes and made himself comfortable on the bed. An excited thrill ran through his veins at the sheer forbiddenness of their actions. If his warriors could see him now, getting naked for a Vanir sorcerer…
Talvi sat down on the edge of the bed. He was still clad in his armor, regal and dangerous.
“Gudrun positioned guards at the doors, and I’m going to watch over you while you sleep,” Talvi promised. “But you, my king, are going to rest. You did so well today.”
“Talvi—”
“You protected your sister and put Bergelmir in his place. Your father’s warriors know very well that you’re going to be the better king.”
Hakon had thought that he could never be aroused under these circumstances, but Talvi’s praise stirred an unexpected heat in his belly.
“Relax,” Talvi purred, nudging Hakon’s thighs apart and wrapping a warm hand around his cock. “Let me take care of you.”
Eyes fluttering shut, Hakon was overwhelmed by sensation. Talvi shifted between his legs, leaning over Hakon to kiss him deeply. It didn’t take long until Talvi coated his fingers with oil and carefully pushed inside Hakon. The pressure was delicious.
“You’re king over two realms now, my adored husband.”
“Does that—” Hakon’s breath hitched. “Does that mean we have to live separately from now on? If I have to rule in Jotunheim and you—” He trailed off with a low whine.
Talvi chuckled. “I could get used to talking politics while fucking you.” His grip around Hakon’s cock tightened. “Let’s see… I suggest you put Gudrun and Anya in charge of the daily business in Utgard.” Talvi brushed against that spot inside that made Hakon see stars. “You’ll reside in Saeborg with me.” Another drag of Talvi’s fingers. Hakon moaned. “But we’re going to visit Jotunheim often to make sure the realm is secured.” The blissful sensations, along with Talvi’s smooth voice, were almost unbearable. “And as soon as my mothers return we can rule over Jotunheim together.” Changing the angle of his thrusts, Talvi made the pleasure increase tenfold. “What do you say?”
Screaming in pleasure, Hakon came all over his belly and Talvi’s hand. Talvi stopped his hand around Hakon’s cock but rocked his fingers in Hakon’s ass a few more times, dragging incoherent little noises out of him and making white dots dance in front of his vision.
“Is that a yes?”
“Sounds…amenable,” Hakon managed.
He was rewarded with a brilliant smile and a last tantalizing thrust of Talvinen’s fingers.
“Good.” Talvi cleaned his hands and the mess on Hakon’s belly before helping him to settle under the furs. “We can figure out the rest in the morning. Sleep now, dróttning. ”