“I have something for you!” I blurted, already pressing a hand to the concealed pendant. “Oh! NowI’msorry! What were you going to say?”
Freyr smiled. “ThatIhave something foryou.”
“You do? You first then, please!”
My mind couldn’t fathom anything Freyr might have for me, other than a replacement for my broken bowstring. What he actually had humbled me the moment he pulled it from his belt.
It was the finest ebony drinking horn I had ever seen.
“This might not be spun from gold or any forged weaponry, but I do hope you like it.” He passed the beautifully prepared horn into my hands. “I am sorry it’s so much later in the day than I’d planned. It took me a bit longer than expected to get it right.”
The finish was so incredibly smooth, I could hardly believe it was for me and not intended for another monarch or god. “It’s stunning. You made this for me?”
“Well, I didn’t birth the ram that grew it, but it is from the one I slayed.”
Much as Freyr had outdone me yesterday, he was outdoing me again in the thoughtfulness of this gift. “What I have for you seems so much less special now since I had it madeforyou. I’m not much more of a crafter than I am a hunter.”
“Nonsense,” Freyr countered. “Intent means as much as personal skill. What did those feuding friends come to learn, just as your story teaches?”
“Be careful when mounting a new steed?”
Freyr laughed. “Fair enough. But also that if you cannot craft something yourself, it is just as acceptable and sometimes more thoughtful to seek out the most talented of crafters to do so for you, for the thought remains.”
I clutched the drinking horn to my chest before carefully slotting it into a loop on my belt so my hands could be free to present my gift. “I hope so. I was nervous to present this to you and ended up wearing it myself ever since your return. But it is all my design by our best local crafters.” I reached behind my neck to untie the cord of the necklace first and then lifted it from beneath my tunic to hold it out to Freyr.
“This is…” He trailed off before finishing his exclamation, but the radiant wonder on his face said so much. His eyes even looked a bit damp, especially after reaching out and turning the front of the sword pendant with his “beginnings” rune to find the outline of my raven on the back.
I suppose it was like a signature.
And a promise.
“This is very thoughtful,” Freyr said at last, “and very beautiful. I adore it. Would you help me with it?” He reached behind his neck to lift the length of his hair.
I felt as though my hands must be noticeably shaking as I reached up to tie the cord, bringing me even nearer to my king. The scent of never-ending summer enveloped me. I had never allowed myself to believe this moment would come, seeing my design resting upon Freyr’s chest instead of staying hidden upon mine.
He lowered his hair once I was finished and caught my hands before they could retract completely. The square was a distant murmur. The alleyway was continuing to darken as the sun set. Only Freyr’s eyes gleamed in that hazy dark, and the silver of my pendant, now his.
I dared not breathe as, in perfect tandem, Freyr leaned down just as I leaned up.
We kissed, no interruption, no hesitation. He pulled my hands back around his neck to clasp them there and moved his to my waist, tugging me even closer. I was almost too astounded, too thrilled to seek more, but I would not waste this moment.
Pushing forward until Freyr was the one with his back against a wall, I probed his lips gently with my tongue, and he parted them to accept it. To pin my lord and slot my legs between his thighs was as blissful as any fever dream, envisioning this moment but never believing I could have it, not any more than finally having given him my gift.
“Ravnur! Where did that boy go?”
We snapped apart, but though our lips disconnected, for a moment, my body sank against his, and I shivered to have finally learned his taste.
Like the freshest fruits, vegetables, and herbs at the height of harvest rolled into one indefinable flavor.
Freyr stroked my cheek, and I leaned into his caress before finally stepping back just as we were discovered.
“There you are! Oh! Apologies, my lord, but Ravnur cannot possibly leave us hanging on one story after such a masterful telling. Another!”
As we were very nearly dragged back into the square, I overheard the bickering friends from earlier making amends at one of the tables.
“I should have accepted the new cart as the kind gesture you intended.”
“No, no. I should have had an actual craftsman make you a new one instead of bungling the attempt. I am rubbish with wood!”
