“What was that?”
Thori’s lips curved into a self-deprecating smile.
“Who needs a warrior who doesn’t conquer? Who needs a prince who keeps losing battles?”
“But that isn’t true,” Njord said, surprising himself with the gentleness of his words. “You’re the pride of theÆsir. Their most fabled golden thunder god.”
Thori chuckled a mirthless laugh.
“Am I?”
You are, Njord wanted to assure him.A fabulous warrior. Most precious.
But something was wrong with Thori’s claims. They rang both true and false, as if Thori believed what he was saying and was lying to Njord at the same time. Confused and intrigued, Njord leaned closer.
“Are you trying to tell me that your kin has forsaken you?”
For a long moment, Thori didn’t answer, but simply stared through the window out at the ocean with unseeing eyes.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if they have.”
Njord pressed the cup of mead into Thori’s hand. And if he covered Thori’s fingers with his own, who was to judge?
“Odin is a petty bastard. He might do many things if he deems them clever. But your mother isn’t like that. Frigga wouldn’t just abandon you.”
Hastily, Thori took the offered cup and hid behind his mead, drinking in deep gulps.
“I don’t know what to believe anymore,” he said miserably, and Njord shuffled a little closer to place a reassuring hand on the small of his back.
Did Thori really believe what he was saying? Or was he hoping to lull Njord into thinking that he couldn’t hope for help from Asgard before fleeing at the right moment?
“Why did your father send you to raid Nóatún in the first place?”
Thori sighed, looking anywhere but at Njord.
“I wanted to prove myself. And he delivered an opportunity. I didn’t think of the consequences.”
“You were still young.”
Was he now making excuses for Odinsson? But at some point, he had started rubbing small circles against Thori’s back, and now he couldn’t stop.
“I was a fool.”
“Because you agreed to the raid, or because you weren’t victorious?”
“I—”
“You’re right, you know? The raid was foolish, and many good people died because of it. Did you know that Jökull was my best friend for many years after I returned from Asgard?”
“What do you mean by ‘returned from Asgard’?” Thori’s voice sounded off, strangled somehow, and Njord felt a disbelieving laugh rise in his chest. By the waves, what had Frigga and Odin been thinking?
“They didn’t tell you? Not even your mother?”
“Tell me what?”
“I spent most of my youth there.”
He could see the cogs in Thori’s pretty head turning.
