Njord’s heart sang with happiness.
“Good. But if we’re going to do that, I can’t keep you as a thrall forever. So how about you stay as my consort?”
Asgard would probably riot, but he couldn’t care less, and as Thori regarded him with suspiciously bright eyes, he knew it was the right thing to do.
“You really want me to stay? To rule at your side, even?”
“Yes,” Njord said simply. “I want to wake up with you in my arms every morning. I want to see you in my great hall, in my bed, at my side. I-I love you. Have loved you for quite some time. You’re brave and clever and noble, and I don’t want to spend another day without you.”
A tear slipped down Thori’s cheek, the sight tearing Njord’s heart to shreds.
“I love you too,” he whispered. “Norns, I do.”
Njord kissed him again, soft and slow and full of promise. Outside, he could feel the storm clouds clearing, the unseasonable tempest finally dissipating now that its cause had been resolved. When they finally broke apart, Njord became aware of a faint warmth radiating throughout the room.
“The egg,” Njord breathed, pulling Thori up with him.
They padded naked over to the fireplace to find the dragon egg where Njord had placed it, wrapped in a warm blanket and positioned directly in front of the flames. But as they approached, Njord spotted a thin crack on the egg’s surface, running from apex to base like a lightning strike frozen in crystal.
“Is that—” Thori started, voice full of wonder.
“Yes,” Njord knelt beside the egg, hardly daring to breathe. “It’s going to hatch soon.”
They found robes to wrap themselves in and stayed cuddled close to each other, kissing slowly and watching the crack slowly widen. Njord buried his nose in Thori’s hair, breathing in his scent, and sent a silent prayer of gratefulness to the Norns.
Epilogue
Njord
The black beach stretched endlessly beneath Fönn’s mighty wings, framed by the ocean to his right and the mountains to his left.
Njord leaned into the wind, holding onto the protective ridges along Fönn’s neck as she glided across the waves. Spray kissed his face, salt-sharp and clean, and below him the coastline of Vanaheim unfolded in familiar curves of jagged rocks and black sand. The midnight sun hung low on the horizon, painting everything in purple and gold.
Fönn chirped, a sound that still made his heart ache because she sounded exactly like Jökull. He followed her gaze down to the beach and laughed.
There!
A lone rider was galloping along the waterline, sand flying from the hooves of a powerful horse. Even from this height, Njord recognized that particular grace, the way Thori moved with his mount like they were one creature. The horse was a graygelding from Njord’s own stables, sturdy and swift, and Thori rode without a saddle and nothing but a simple halter.
Showing off, Njord thought with amusement.
They’d left Nóatún at dawn, Thori claiming he needed to clear his head after three days spent indoors during the storm that had battered the coast. A longship had taken Thori to shore, and Njord had given him some space before following. But then Fönn had nudged him with her snout, already eager for flight, and Njord had given in to the temptation.
Fönn was still young, barely a season old, but she’d grown with alarming speed. Her scales gleamed white and blue like Jökull’s, though the patterns were different, more like ice flowers blooming across her body. And her eyes held an intelligence that was both ancient and new.
Fönn took another sharp curve, lower this time, and Thori noticed them. He looked over his shoulder, his golden hair streaming behind him in the wind. Even at this distance, Njord could see his delighted grin.
Then Thori urged his horse faster, leaning low over the gelding’s neck.
Fleeing.
Asking to be chased.
To be hunted down.
Njord laughed.
Fönn dove, gaining even more speed and skimming so close to the surf that her wingtips nearly touched the foam, and Thori coaxed the gelding to go faster. They raced along the beach, dragon and rider in pursuit of the fleeing horseman. Fönn’s shadow flew across the sand, and her pleased rumbling vibrated through Njord’s whole body. She was playing, he realized. This was a game to her, the way it had been with Jökull when she’d chased seals through the waves or circled Njord’s longships in lazy spirals.
