“Sol, you in there?” he asked quietly.
“She’s here,” Gerrie answered for her.
Before she could protest, he let himself in. Solveig waited for disgust or pity to enter his eyes, but it never came. He softened with concern and came to her other side, sliding into the bed with them.
He lay on his back peering up at the ceiling. He didn’t surround her like Gerrie did but settled close enough that the heat of his body radiated off him and more of the tightness in her chest loosened.
The moisture in her eyes spilled over.
“Eons before the War of Realms, I roamed the world as a nomad. No allegiance to any crown or land or race. I travelled aimlessly through the realms, and only the gods knew what I was searching for. I sailed from continent to continent until I accidentally hit the shores of a place I had never been before. I had left Svartalfheim and was aiming for Niflheim,but a storm blew my boat to the forbidden land of Helheim.” Laeknir’s voice was distant, his eyes seeing this story Solveig had never heard before.
“I tried to leave, but as you know, King Ragnvald is not one to forgive trespassing, especially those of the living variety. He tricked me into thinking I had died. It was ... devastating. All my life I had been aiming for Valhalla, and to end up in Helheim ... Fuck. The dead are a sorry lot, but even they couldn’t stand to be near me. I used to sit on the shoreline and watch the mists cascading across the sea, trying to remember how I died, straining for a glimpse of the lands beyond.
“One day a woman came and sat beside me. She didn’t speak. Every day she came and sat beside me. I looked forward to the mornings just to see and feel her presence. One day, she took my hand in her fragile, mortal one. She told me she was from Midgard, from a poor village where it was difficult to survive without breaking some kind of law.
“That’s what landed her in Hel. She was caught stealing to help feed her family, and the merchant demanded justice. She was executed. She told me she felt every single second of dying, remembering her last breath as vividly as the unnecessary ones she took now.
“I told her about my life, and we grew to love each other. I was dead but content. I don’t know how many years or lifetimes I spent there—time works strangely in Helheim. One day, Ragnvald summoned me to his castle. He informed me that there had been a grave error. I was not, in fact, dead, and he could not suffer the living in his presence. I was banished and sent away immediately.” Laeknir was quiet for quite some time. “I never got to say goodbye to my Astrid.”
Solveig reached over and took his hand in hers. A tear rolled down his hardened cheek and into his braided beard.
“When I got back to Vanaheim, the chill of death was still in my bones. I had spent an age amongst the dead, and being alive didn’t feel real. My mind played tricks on me. I sensed her beside me as I woke, I sawher blond hair whipping around her face on the distant shore. But she wasn’t with me anymore. She was dead, and though I was alive, it was as if I had died.
“I tried to go back but I never found it again. The mists grew thick and I would lose my way. I wished for death, I hoped for it ... and I tried ... I tried to die. Ragnvald would not let me. The last time I attempted, he visited me, cursed me so I would never again reach Hel.” He closed his eyes, reliving the pain. He gripped the Halgalaz rune stone on his neck.
Solveig had always thought the rune was a reminder of the deaths he could not control as a healer, but this made sense.
“Most people would be grateful to know that whatever they did in this life, they would reach Valhalla. But it is not a comfort to me. No matter how vicious, how dishonourable I am, I will never return to Helheim. Valhalla will be an eternal torture for me. And so I choose to live, and live for as long as I can, because though Vanaheim is far from Helheim, it is much closer than Valhalla.
“I live to be deserving of Astrid, even though I can never be with her. But the pain is still unbearable at times. The nightmares still come, Solveig. I wake and forget that I am not dead. I still ... I still want to go to Hel.” He chuckled sadly and Solveig squeezed his hand. “But there are reasons to keep going, to push through and overcome the pain. You are one of my reasons, Sol. Your pain does not make you weak. The decisions you must make for your well-being do not make you dishonourable.”
All three lay there in companionable silence, Laeknir’s story touching them in different ways.
Solveig’s heart ached for him, for him wanting to die, for never having known that this big, bald, bearded witch’s heart was broken. Her heart ached for Astrid, who did not deserve to suffer in Helheim for her actions.
She’d always known that mortals were judged the harshest. They were short-sighted creatures, and their lifespans did not allow for the kind of growth needed to be welcomed in Valhalla. Ragnvald refused to make exceptions to his requirements, taking the dead for his kingdom and ruling with an iron fist.
It was a cruel form of torture to allow a living person to reside in Helheim.
Gerrie let out a long breath. “I’m sending word to the queens. I’m going to stay.”
Solveig broke free of her embrace. “You can’t, Ger. We’ve already had this discussion.”
“Solveig ...” She hesitated. “Even though this is not your fault, I can’t see ... I mean, what I’m trying to say is that—”
“You don’t think I’ll be keeping my position,” Solveig interrupted quietly. Gerrie’s silence served as confirmation.
“Your people believe in you, Solveig, but the people’s voice does not carry as much weight as it should,” Laeknir said.
“There’s still time before they make their final decision. We can still help you,” Gerrie said. “But I have to stay here to do that.”
Solveig was already shaking her head. Today had not been a good day. Not being able to exact punishment would be seen as weak. Though the prince had stepped in, it hadn’t completely covered her hesitation. Latham and Maddock would jump at the opportunity she’d presented them with.
She had to find a way to repair the damage she’d caused and knew exactly what she had to do.
“What’s wrong?” Gerrie said in alarm as Solveig slumped against her.
“I have to fight the prince.”
