Chapter 20 Justice #3
Njord didn’t wait to watch if Thori would follow him, but simply walked over to his bedchamber and started to prepare for sleep.
Arrogant bastard. But despite everything, Thori couldn’t help noticing how handsome Njord was as he slipped out of his tunic, the broad expanse of his back showing the scars of countless battles.
“Well?” Njord glanced over at him. “What are you waiting for?”
Heat flooded Thori’s cheeks.
“I—I’d rather keep my clothes on if I’m going to sleep on the floor.”
Njord frowned.
“Who said anything about sleeping on the floor? Silly áss. Strip and get in the bed.”
“But—”
“Thori. Now.”
His name rolling from Njord’s lips sent another confusing jolt through him, but Thori forced himself to remain defiant.
“I won’t share a bed with you like some common whore.”
Njord stepped closer, and Thori’s breath caught.
“Last time you begged me to pleasure you, remember? But that’s not what I’m asking of you. Now strip, or I’ll do it for you.”
Fuming, but unable to come up with a suitable retort, Thori removed his clothes, letting them fall in a messy heap on the floor. The cool air raised goosebumps on his skin, and he crossed his arms over his chest, suddenly feeling far too exposed.
Njord’s gaze traveled over him appraisingly, but there was something almost gentle in his expression.
“Get in the bed.”
Thori stomped over to the bed, climbing inside and pulling the dark blue sheets up to his chin. He sighed, distracted for a moment by how comfortable the mattress was and how soft the sheets were. He hurried to turn to his side, facing the wall, as soon as Njord slipped under the covers with him.
“Calm,” Njord murmured, settling right next to him, although there was more than enough room to keep a distance. “You’re simply here to sleep.”
Njord’s arm curled around Thori’s waist anyway, pulling him back against his warm chest, making Thori tense.
His naked skin felt weird against the soft fabric of Njord’s sleeping garments.
It was strange and somehow…alluring. And despite everything, Thori’s traitorous body relaxed into the embrace.
Njord was warm and solid behind him, his breathing deep and even.
He listened to the sound of the waves far below, a song that usually felt soothing, but now it filled his mind with images of the past day, every fiber of his being thrumming with tension.
And at the same time, a leaden tiredness crept up on him.
His eyes finally drifted shut.
Water rose to his chest, cold and relentless. Iron bars beneath his desperate fingers, sea-slick and impossible to bend. His lungs burned as he pressed his face against the bars at the top of the cage, gasping for the last precious breaths.
“Please,” he heard himself begging, though it was beneath an Asgardian warrior to plead. “Please, I’ll be good, I’ll obey, just don’t—”
But the water kept rising, and Njord’s voice echoed from somewhere above.
“Justice has to be served.”
Thori woke with a strangled cry, his body drenched in sweat and shaking. For a moment, he couldn’t remember where he was, could still feel the water rising around him.
“Shh, I’m here.” Njord’s voice cut through the panic, firm hands settling on Thori’s shoulders. “You dreamed. It’s all good now. You’re safe.”
Safe? What a poor joke!
“Let go of me!”
Thori tried to pull away, but Njord held him in place.
“Breathe,” he commanded, his voice taking on that authoritative tone again, like steel wrapped in silk. “Breathe with me. In and out. Slowly. That’s it.”
Gradually, Thori’s breathing steadied, though he couldn’t stop the fine tremors running through his body. As his senses cleared, he found himself plastered against Njord’s chest, the sea god’s arms cradling him.
“Tell me.”
“Tell you what?”
Thori hated how his voice cracked on the words.
“What you saw in that dream of yours. What frightened you so much?”
“I’m not frightened.”
The lie sounded hollow even to his own ears.
Njord’s hand moved to cup the back of his neck, thumb stroking soothingly over his racing pulse.
“Thori. Tell me.”
The gentleness in his voice was Thori’s undoing, forcing the pent-up fear and confusion he’d been holding back to come pouring out in a rush.
“The cage,” he whispered. “I keep seeing the cage. And you said—years ago, in Nidavellir—you said you’d see me drown. And today, watching that man—” His chest tightened, making it suddenly hard to breathe. “Is that how I’m going to die? Is that what you’re planning?”
For a horrible moment, Njord was silent. Then he pulled back just enough to look into Thori’s eyes, his expression serious but kind.
“You think I made you watch Egil’s execution to scare you?”
“Why wouldn’t you? You hate me. You have every right to hate me. I led the raid on your fortress, I—”
Overwhelmed by guilt, Thori could barely stand looking at him.
“You did.” Njord’s voice was calm, matter-of-fact. “You led warriors to my lands, and many good people died because of it. But you are nothing like Egil.”
“How am I different? I’m your enemy. I broke your laws by attacking your realm, and—”
“Egil murdered for profit,” Njord cut him off.
“He killed an innocent man and used forbidden magic to fill his pockets. But you—” He paused, as if choosing his words carefully.
“You fought for your father’s cause, misguided though it was.
A warrior and a murderer aren’t the same thing.
And even if I hate you for killing Jokull, I can see the difference. ”
Thori shuddered.
“Still, you hate me.”
Defeat settled over him, and with it came a bone-deep weariness.
But Njord kept rubbing soothing circles against his neck, the unbearable tenderness starkly at odds with his words of hatred.
“Yes. No, I—” Njord faltered. “My feelings for you are a complicated matter, but as long as you behave, as long as you don’t try to escape or cause harm to my people, you’re under my protection. No one will hurt you. Not even me.”
“But you said—”
Njord heaved a deep sigh.
“Can’t you understand? I was half mad with anger and grief back then.”
Njord’s thumb traced the line of Thori’s jaw, and Thori couldn’t help leaning into the caress.
“I wanted to hurt you as you had hurt me. Wanted to hurt you so badly. But I’m the sea. My temper has calmed. I won’t see you drowned, Thori of the thunder. That’s not your fate.”
The endearment, spoken so softly, sent warmth flooding through Thori’s chest. He wanted to believe Njord’s promises, foolish as it might be.
“Then what is my fate?” he whispered forlornly, remembering Svanhild’s words about his demise.
Njord was quiet for a long moment, his storm-grey eyes searching Thori’s face in the dim light.
“That remains to be seen,” he said. “But for now, you’re here. You’re mine. And you’re safe.”
He pulled Thori closer again, settling him back against his chest.
“Sleep now. I’ll keep the nightmares at bay.”
And despite everything, Thori felt himself relaxing into the embrace. Njord’s heartbeat was steady beneath his ear, and the sea god’s presence felt like a shield against the darkness.
Thori slept peacefully through the rest of the night.