Chapter 32 Halvar
Halvar
Freija slid off the horse and wobbled.
I moved to stabilize her, but her hand shot out. “I’m fine. I just need to move about a bit.”
Withholding a grunt, I stepped back, granting her some space. “Well, why don’t you build us a fire while I hunt down supper.”
“Supper?”
“You aren’t hungry?”
“No, I am. Food would be good, even at this hour.”
I unsheathed the bow and arrow from where it was strapped across the horse’s packs. “Well, unless you want to eat Gylli here…”
She gasped, her hand flying to her chest.
I thought as much. “Have you ever built a fire before?”
Her head tilted to one side and she glared at me. “Of course I have.”
“Just asking.”
“Go find us some food, then, and I will have a flame underway by the time you return.”
I gave her a grunt of appreciation and strode for the woods with the bow and arrow.
It wasn’t my preferred weapon, but it was necessary when hunting small game.
Especially considering my size. I made it two steps into the woods before a thought stopped me in my tracks.
Spinning back to the woman who was bent over the soil, clearing a spot for the fire, I asked, “Do you have your blade on you?”
Her gaze flicked to mine. Those marbled eyes filled with determination. “I never go anywhere without it.”
“Good.”
With that I traipsed into the woods to find our meal.
Hare captured and skinned, I made my way back to the clearing where I’d left Freija. Hopefully, she was all right. We hadn’t come across any other travelers since leaving Egersund, which wasn’t wholly surprising, but one could never be sure what, or who, lurked in the woods, especially at night.
As the trees thinned, the trill of a feminine voice met my ears.
“What do you think I should do, Gylli?”
Is she talking to the horse?
I leaned against a nearby birch and peered into the camp.
Freija sat, legs crossed, beside a small fire, while the horse munched on some grass where it had been tied up.
“He’s as stoic as a rock, but…” She nestled her head in her hands. “Oh, I don’t know.”
My heart lurched, and I swallowed hard. Was she talking about me?
She looked back up at the horse and tucked a strand of that beautiful copper hair behind her ear.
At this rate she’d need to braid it to stop it from becoming unruly on our journey.
But part of me longed for her to keep it down.
There was something about it that mesmerized me, begged me to sweep my hands through it.
“My gaze drifts to him whenever he enters a room, whether I want it to or not.”
Fuck. It was the same for me. Whenever she was close, my body seemed to turn toward her like a moth to a flame or a dragonfly to water.
I cleared my throat, and her head whipped in my direction, eyes wide.
The sight had me smirking. “Talking to animals, princess?”
She leaned forward and busied herself with the fire, poking a stick at the logs. “Someone’s got to listen to my musings.”
Little did she know that I’d listen to her for a lifetime. But I shouldn’t, couldn’t go down that path. It would only lead to despair.
I shook off the heady sensation that had settled over me and strode into the clearing with my catch. “I hope you don’t mind rabbit.”
“At this point I’d eat snails.”
“They’re a delicacy on the continent, you know?”
She chuckled. “Perhaps another reason I shouldn’t venture too far from the mountain.”
“Something we can agree on.”
Her eyes rolled as a smile appeared.
Ancestors, she could bring me to my knees with that smile.
We settled into a companionable silence, me cooking the meal while she removed the packs and saddle from the horse and unpacked the few blankets I’d grabbed from our camp outside Vigdis’s cottage.
Our supper was on the light side, but it would suffice until we got to the next village where we could stock up on bread and perhaps find an inn for the night.
Moonlight trickled through the forest, casting our little camp under a blanket of darkness save for the glow from our fire. A cool and gentle breeze stoked the embers, and smoke drifted up and over the tree canopy.
Once we’d eaten, Freija sat on her blanket, just out of reach, her cloak gripped tightly around her body. Her hand trembled, and I let out a grunt of displeasure.
“Come here.” I motioned to my spot.
“That’s… I-I’m fine here.”
She most definitely was not. She’d started shivering moments ago, and I wasn’t going to let her freeze. I tapped the space once again.
Rolling her eyes, she moved and settled in beside me, bringing her faint smell of lavender and something new with her. I wrapped my arm and cloak around her, tucking her against my side. She felt like she belonged there.
“Tell me about your time in the north,” she said, her gaze locked on the dancing flames in front of us.
“It was cold.”
She snorted and peered out of the corner of her eyes. “Everyone knows that part of Norway is basically Arctic tundra.”
She wasn’t wrong. “What would you like to hear about? The precious white foxes that would lope around the snowdrifts, the incredible glaciers that sit atop our mountains, or the threats of battle?”
Her eyes grew wide at the temptation of knowledge. It was something I admired about her. She always wanted to learn more, glean as much information as she could about any and all subjects.
“Those foxes sound precious.”
“We soldiers come across a lot of different animals during our travels.” Some more harrowing and dangerous than others. Some, unfortunately, in human form, intent on destroying the nature we fae were supposed to protect.
“Have you always enjoyed being in our armed forces?” she asked.
Enjoyed wasn’t a good description. “I was destined to serve.”
“Your father served too.”
“He did.” Until he didn’t.
“Is that where you learned your”—she waved her hand between us, accidentally brushing against my chest and sending a zing of energy through my body—“violence.”
“I learned a great deal from both of my parents. Combat and security from my father, strength from my mother.” My body tensed. I hadn’t spoken of them in a very long time, but something about Freija brought down the walls I’d so carefully erected around myself.
My left thumb absentmindedly stroked her shoulder. She didn’t shy away from it. Or perhaps she hadn’t noticed?
A flush of pink filled her cheeks that certainly wasn’t from the fire. No. She’d noticed.
I tucked her closer, giving in to the swirling desire to have her against my body. She snuggled in, turning and setting her legs across my lap while leaning against my chest.
“Warm enough?” I asked.
She nodded. “Yes, thank you.”
That light-pink tinge remained and worry about her being cold subsided.
“Is this the farthest from the mountain you’ve journeyed?” I asked.
“By myself, yes,” she replied. “Nora and I traveled a bit more when we were younger, but as I got older and took on more responsibilities as heir, those journeys came to a stop. Though, in hindsight, my sister and I never truly traveled that far.”
Her body slumped, her shoulders curved in.
I furrowed my brow. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s nothing.”
It most certainly was not. Something, some thought, had turned her mood and soured her mind. “Princess?”
“It’s just…” she sighed. “I have a duty to the mountain and we lost two soldiers today and if I hadn’t taken so long to compile my report, maybe…”
Regret. It was regret that had seeped in.
“Your sense of duty is admirable,” I said.
Her lips tilted at one corner. “As is yours. One doesn’t serve as Head Guard for centuries without it.”
I shrugged. “It is, perhaps, something we have in common.”
“I don’t think many could understand what I’ve been through. Those pressures that were placed on me at such a young age.”
“Tell me about it.”
Her gaze returned to the fire. “From my studies to the way I handled myself in front of a crowd, everything was scrutinized. I was never outright asked or told to achieve, but the sentiment was always there. Father and Mother would beam whenever I did something right. But when something was off—a test failed or a speech fumbled—those smiles were always sadder, more hesitant, like perhaps I wasn’t the right person to be heir. ”
She sighed, but continued, “It was the same with the Council or the general populace of the mountain. The same pride or hesitation. I know a lot of that was some time ago, but… it left a mark. One I’ve worked on removing for decades but can’t seem to erase.”
I tugged her in tighter and tilted her face to mine. “Those moments can linger and fester. It’s understandable. I feel similarly in my role, especially trying to live up to my father’s reputation, while also balancing the grief of soldier casualties.”
She gasped. “I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have… There is no comparing—”
“What you have experienced isn’t of lesser value. You aren’t of lesser value because what you did didn’t have the perfect outcome.”
“You sound like Vigdis.”
“And what did she say?”
“That I shouldn’t strive for perfection, but aim for excellence instead.”
I nodded. “That sounds alarmingly similar to something my mother told me.”
“Your mother?”
“You and I are quite alike, princess. I too was known to take on more pressure than my shoulders could bear when I first rose in the ranks within the Fjell Fae army. Those deaths, both of my troops and of the enemy, are often unavoidable and sometimes out of my control. There is only so much I can do as General. I can give orders, I can make plans and strategies, but I cannot always prevent casualties.”
“You’re right,” she sighed. “We do both know that pressure.”
I swept her hair off her forehead and trailed my fingers gently across the ridge of her jaw. “We cannot let them define who we are, though.”
She leaned into my touch, her eyelashes fluttering. Those lips were right there. If I tilted my head down ever so slightly, I could taste her again.
My heart hammered in my chest as she opened her eyes, her hooded gaze meeting mine. Heat swirled between us in our cocoon of cloaks and blankets. She reached out, hand trembling slightly, and brushed her fingers across my cheek. Fuck, her touch would be my undoing.
“Princess,” I growled softly.
If I could take all of the weight from her shoulders without hurting her, I would.
I’d vanquish any naysayers, kill in her name, do whatever she needed me to do, so that she might find a grain of peace.
Even though I shouldn’t have, I couldn’t help the feelings that crept in whenever I was near her.
I trailed my hand down past her elbow and wrapped my arms around her.
She gasped as our chests met, and her hands clutched the material at my shoulders.
That same tingling sensation I’d felt when we first kissed, zipped through me once more, and begged me to kiss her again.
I shouldn’t kiss her again, but there was no one around to catch me, no Mikkel to walk in on us, no one to dismiss or kill me for touching what was forbidden. And based on the way her pulse hummed and her eyes filled with warmth, Freija wanted this too.
Fuck it.
Cupping her cheek again, I tilted my head toward those beautiful rose-colored lips—
Something whistled through the air from our right, and I didn’t think twice before throwing my body over Freija, flattening her against the ground.
She yelped as a thud sounded from our left where something had buried itself into a tree trunk.
I glanced up. An arrow.
“You fool!” someone yelled. “You missed him.”
We were under attack.