“We can do it then. It won’t change anything,” Håkon whispered, and when Talvi grabbed his husband, kissing him roughly, Njord turned away.
It was bad enough that he was convincing them to perform the ritual for him. He didn’t want to intrude on this intimate moment.
“Håkon, no.” Talvi sounded pleading.
“I’m already yours. My body, my fate, my… heart. It won’t change anything.”
Trying to distract himself by counting the freckles dotting Thori’s shoulders, Njord stroked absentminded circles across his thrall’s back, careful not to touch the healing wounds.
“StupidJotunn,” Talvi muttered affectionately. “You can’t just say something like that.”
“It’s the truth,” Håkon said.
His words elicited a resigned sigh from Talvi, and Njord knew they’d won.
“You’re impossible,” Talvi chastised. “Just so we’re absolutely clear about this: you’re not just asking me to fuck you in a ritual. Myseiðrwill own you. You’d be completely at my mercy.”
“Nothing new then,” Håkon said.
By the waves, the boys were precious, and Thori’s features had softened too, as if he were resting peacefully after Svanhild’s wretchedseiðrwas gone. Good. Maybe he would allow his thrall a bath in the morning to get rid of the oil, too. Then the last traces of Svanhild’s touch would be erased.
“Fine. Have it your way,” Talvi said. “But you have to promise me that you’ll tell me if it gets too much. These rituals can be overwhelming.”
“Deal.”
Looking up from where his hand rested against Thori’s neck, Njord regarded the boys with affection.
“Why don’t you make sure your thrall doesn’t succumb to his injuries and leave it to Håkon and me to deal with Svanhild?” Talvi grumbled, though his voice lacked true malice.
Njord smiled.
“Thank you. Both of you.”
twelve
Caught Up in Magic
Thori
Thori woke parched and overheated, feeling like he wanted to crawl out of his skin.
Where was he?
It was dark around him, and for a second, Thori thought he was back in his chambers in Asgard, that he had only awoken from a strange dream that had been slightly frightening and slightly arousing: strong hands holding him in place and gray eyes watching him squirm.
He was hard, feeling way too hot. Confused.
Maybe he just needed to take care of the problem and go back to sleep. Norrin wouldn’t be pleased if he soiled his sheets, because this was his bed, right? It had to be. But Thori was so hard. It almosthurt,and he couldn’t bring himself to care.
He wrapped his hand around his cock, momentarily overwhelmed by pleasure. Images flooded his mind of Norrin hovering above him, the curtain of his dark hair framing his face.
“Touch me,” Thori heard himself whisper to the figment of his imagination.
He’d never craved a warrior’s touch, never craved anyone this much. But he yearned for Norrin’s strong hands to soothe him, cooling down his overheated skin.
A soft moan escaped his lips. For a moment he felt like he could come like this and break the strange spell holding him trapped.
But his relief was short-lived; his pleasure slipping from his grasp. Suddenly he couldn’t keep up his strokes, wrenching his hand from his cock as if he’d been burned. Hissing, Thori curled up on his side. What was this?
