The lie sounded hollow even to his own ears.
Njord’s hand moved to cup the back of his neck, thumb stroking soothingly over his racing pulse.
“Thori. Tell me.”
The gentleness in his voice was Thori’s undoing, forcing the pent-up fear and confusion he’d been holding back to come pouring out in a rush.
“The cage,” he whispered. “I keep seeing the cage. And you said—years ago, in Nidavellir—you said you’d see me drown. And today, watching that man—” His chest tightened, making it suddenly hard to breathe. “Is that how I’m going to die? Is that what you’re planning?”
For a horrible moment, Njord was silent. Then he pulled back just enough to look into Thori’s eyes, his expression serious but kind.
“You think I made you watch Egil’s execution to scare you?”
“Why wouldn’t you? You hate me. You have every right to hate me. I led the raid on your fortress, I—”
Overwhelmed by guilt, Thori could barely stand looking at him.
“You did.” Njord’s voice was calm, matter-of-fact. “You led warriors to my lands, and many good people died because of it. But you are nothing like Egil.”
“How am I different? I’m your enemy. I broke your laws by attacking your realm, and—”
“Egil murdered for profit,” Njord cut him off. “He killed an innocent man and used forbidden magic to fill his pockets. But you—” He paused, as if choosing his words carefully. “You fought for your father’s cause, misguided though it was. A warrior and a murderer aren’t the same thing. And even if I hate you for killing Jökull, I can see the difference.”
Thori shuddered.
“Still, you hate me.”
Defeat settled over him, and with it came a bone-deep weariness.
But Njord kept rubbing soothing circles against his neck, the unbearable tenderness starkly at odds with his words of hatred.
“Yes. No, I—” Njord faltered. “My feelings for you are a complicated matter, but as long as you behave, as long as you don’t try to escape or cause harm to my people, you’re under my protection. No one will hurt you. Not even me.”
“But you said—”
Njord heaved a deep sigh.
“Can’t you understand? I was half mad with anger and grief back then.”
Njord’s thumb traced the line of Thori’s jaw, and Thori couldn’t help leaning into the caress.
“I wanted to hurt you as you had hurt me. Wanted to hurt you so badly. But I’m the sea. My temper has calmed. I won’t see you drowned, Thori of the thunder. That’s not your fate.”
The endearment, spoken so softly, sent warmth flooding through Thori’s chest. Hewantedto believe Njord’s promises, foolish as it might be.
“Then what is my fate?” he whispered forlornly, remembering Svanhild’s words about his demise.
Njord was quiet for a long moment, his storm-grey eyes searching Thori’s face in the dim light.
“That remains to be seen,” he said. “But for now, you’re here. You’re mine. And you’re safe.”
He pulled Thori closer again, settling him back against his chest.
“Sleep now. I’ll keep the nightmares at bay.”
And despite everything, Thori felt himself relaxing into the embrace. Njord’s heartbeat was steady beneath his ear, and the sea god’s presence felt like a shield against the darkness.
Thori slept peacefully through the rest of the night.
