Chapter 4 Halvar
Halvar
What the fuck? Very well? Very well?
Nothing was well about this assignment. With centuries of service and a trail of death lying in my wake, my career was turned to guarding a princess?
It certainly got me back down here to Skolvik and one step closer to being permanently stationed here instead of the North where constant reminders of my family’s past lurked around every corner.
But guarding a princess? I was a general, for ancestors’ sake.
Being given a traditionally low assignment would not allow me to show my strengths and win the King’s favor.
Perhaps I should have stayed in the North.
Buried myself in work and snow. Or headed overseas with privateers who needed a sell-sword.
Anything would be better than this. But I’d sworn an oath to protect the mountain, an oath to our King that I would forever defend the fae of the fjell.
So that is what I would do. Regardless of the hardship… or ridicule.
No, I couldn’t think like that. It was my duty to serve and protect those fae who needed it, and Freija was under threat.
She appeared to be grappling with the news in an equally shocked fashion. She wrung her pale, delicate fingers together, gnawed at the corner of one soft lip, and a few strands of that copper-colored hair had fallen from her bun as if in protest. Her knee was also bouncing again.
The King pressed his fist to his mouth and coughed like he needed to clear a rock. The force of it had him sitting down at the table with his daughter.
Freija’s unusually-colored eyes—a blend of gray and brown, like stone and soil, the same as her mother’s—darted to him. She rose to her feet and ambled across the room, fetching the King a mug of water and delivering it to him before sitting back down with a wobble.
“Thank you, my dear.”
She didn’t reply. That mind was still wrapped up in shock and something I couldn’t quite place.
Not yet at least, but with this assignment I would need to learn more about her.
It would potentially be a way to gain greater favor with the king and mount a successful petition to be permanently stationed back here in Skolvik.
I just couldn’t get too close to the princess.
The woman herself shot out of her chair, startling the rest of us. “Thank you for informing me, Father. If you don’t mind, I am going to retire for the evening.”
“Of course.” He patted her outstretched hand before she scurried past me in a faint haze of lavender and some other floral. My head followed her movements, breathing in her scent as the door bumped shut behind her, leaving me alone with the King.
My brow furrowed and I refocused on the man in the room. “Your Majesty. A word before I leave?”
He peered up at me, his rosy cheeks filling and the corners of his eyes creasing. “Certainly.”
“Are there any new details regarding the threats to your daughter?”
He shook his head. “Only what I included in my correspondence. They threatened to kidnap her when we least expected it if we didn’t give in to their ransom for gold and tools. To carve her—” He swallowed hard and clenched his fists. “All we know was in the letter.”
“Understood.”
“Will there be any problems with this new assignment? I’m sure it’s not what you had in mind when you agreed to be my Head Guard, but…”
I cleared my throat. “No, sir. There will be no problems.”
“Good. And, forgive me, I’m sure this goes without saying, but I expect no silly business between you and my daughter. That rule of soldiers not forming bonds with any prince or princess is in place to protect both parties. We cannot have our guards being distracted.”
My jaw clenched. “Of course not, sir.”
“Excellent. I also don’t want to have to dismiss or kill you.
” He chuckled like that was an off the cuff comment, but I knew better.
King Erik wouldn’t want to kill me—I was too great an asset to him and the Fjell Fae—but this was his family, and he put them first. Always.
So an untimely death wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.
Especially if his daughter’s heart was broken.
There were only two fae on this planet whose powers and strength could match or surpass my own, and King Erik of the Fjell was one of them.
He was known for raising mountains from a pebble and crushing a man’s chest in the early years of his reign when he participated in any necessary interrogations.
Not to mention, he was king. That came with a whole other set of royal powers that were bestowed by the ancestors, including the ability to stun people…
and, if rumor were true, kill someone on the spot with a powerful jolt of magic.
I gently pulled at my collar. “We would not want that sort of distraction or problem, no.”
“No.”
Not that I’d ever entertain such a notion. Love and attachment always resulted in loss. I’d seen that firsthand and wouldn’t be doing so myself. My focus would be on my work and getting re-stationed.
“And, sir, should we find the culprits and… deal with them… I’d like to discuss my permanently relocating back here in Skolvik. I think my presence here would be good for the Fjell Fae, region, and our military goals.”
His lips pinched together and his head bobbed. “We can certainly have that discussion. Once the root of this mess has been removed.”
“Thank you, sir.” That wasn’t an affirmative, but it was better than nothing. I bowed my head. “Have a good evening.”
He waved his hand in a gentle dismissal, and I strode from the room as quickly as I could.
As soon as I exited the King’s rooms and the adjoining council chambers, my commanders gathered around. Mikkel stepped up beside me, that floppy brown hair of his in need of a comb, as he rubbed his knuckles against the scar on his jaw. “That went well.”
I grumbled and tugged on the collar of my uniform.
It was too tight, the air too hot, and my thoughts too muddled.
I despised formal dinners. They were elegant forms of diplomacy and tactful placating.
With centuries of time in the Fjell Fae army and as the King’s Head Guard, I’d been to plenty.
But tonight’s festivities irked me more than the others.
Perhaps it was because of our long journey back from northern Norway, or maybe I was getting too old for this line of work?
I internally scoffed at myself. The latter was a lie. I was in the best shape of my life. At almost 700 years old, I could still keep pace with those half a millenium my junior, skewer any enemies with a flick of my wrist, and behead any creature that crossed my path with my bare hands.
And I enjoyed it.
Always had.
Always would.
Rolling my shoulders, I let out a steady sigh as I nodded to my squadron of commanders and took my leave.
They could fend for themselves the rest of the night.
I needed to get back to the barracks and out of this damned uniform before it strangled me.
The jacket was tight around my neck, the leather strap holding the gray-colored cape dug into my chest, and the trousers barely brushed the tops of my black boots.
The entire gray-and-black ensemble was required, though, and I’d do what I needed to for my job.
But I’d be visiting a seamstress as soon as I could or miraging the whole thing over myself in future.
The attire was a far cry from what we’d worn in the north—reindeer pelts and wool as white as the snowy tundra.
Necessary clothing to keep the cold at bay and blend in with the surrounding human tribes.
I loosened the top buttons and unfastened the cape, scrunching it in my hand as I strode through the tunnels to my room.
Fae of all shapes and sizes got out of my way, their whispers tickling my ears as I passed.
Down and down and down I went, the tunnel temperature never wavering thanks to our magic.
It wasn’t long before I arrived at the thick wooden door to my office and chambers. Pushing it open, I stepped inside and breathed a sigh of relief. The cape was thrown toward the bed and I closed the door, leaning against it as I took a deep breath and scanned my surroundings.
A single bed was pushed into the back corner, a small hearth in the other, and a table taking up the middle of the room was strewn with maps and figurines detailing where my legions had been stationed the last time I’d been here and how many soldiers they contained.
It was a rudimentary chamber but perfect for me.
I didn’t need things and space. I didn’t need attachments.
I needed to do my job: protect the Fjell Fae and this mountain at all costs.
And now…
Protect Freija too.
I changed into more comfortable clothes as my mind whirled through strategies for keeping her safe, while also scouring the country for the people behind the threats.
I doubted the culprits were humans. They didn’t know we secretly lived among them, calling the mountains, forests, fjords, and volcanic islands home.
So it was likely a fae or a group of fae behind the messages they had received.
No one had a vendetta against the mountain.
Veigar, King of the Fire Fae, would always be a threat with his volatile history of burning anything that disagreed with him.
But he lived far away and hadn’t left his precious Icelandic volcanoes in years.
Balder, King of the Fjord Fae, was a cunning bastard, but not nearly as much of a threat, though always worth keeping an eye on should he decide to test the peace between the four factions.
And the Forest… According to rumors, Freija and Princess Ragnhild were close friends. While we didn’t have an official alliance with the Forest Fae, their friendship held a degree of power.
So, it had to be an outside group that was unhappy with King Erik or something the Fjell may or may not have done.
I brushed my hands through my hair. It was too late to be thinking through this. I could do so tomorrow after a good night of sleep.
With a deep breath I settled on top of my bed, arm crooked behind my head, and stared up at the rocky ceiling. The color matched the gray in Freija’s eyes. Eyes that constantly recorded their surroundings.
My lips quirked into a grin.
She was a challenging little thing.
It was part of my job to quickly assess people, and at dinner I couldn’t stop watching Freija, cataloging every quirk and movement.
She was all grace and poise, even after being informed of the threats.
But if you looked closely, saw beneath the regal airs she presented to the world, you could find a woman absorbing every ounce of knowledge around her.
Every seed of information. A woman who was doing everything she could to be a step ahead.
It was a trait I admired in a soldier.
It would serve her well as Queen one day.
But for now, she was an heir who needed protecting.
She’d need training. Defensive lessons. A plan of attack should more enemies appear in Skolvik.
I’d be the best person to give her lessons.
It would keep her within eyesight, while also making practical use of our time.
But would she be receptive to that? She hadn’t seemed too pleased when I’d been assigned to her after dinner…
Well, she’d said everything was fine, but she’d hesitated.
Taken a breath and closed those stunning eyes to control her emotions in front of her father.
Been the dutiful daughter he expected her to be.
But no, considering her reaction in the king’s chambers, I wasn’t too sure she would be amenable to my ideas.
I could wait until morning. Get some rest. Let her absorb the chaotic events of this evening…
Or I could head to her rooms and discuss what needed to happen.
Make a plan. But would she be willing to start training tomorrow?
Especially after today? Or was she the kind of princess who needed coddling for a day or two before she got back to her regular life?
No.
There was only one way to find out.