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Oh shit, I thought getting nervous, I probably should have taken Thorsten up on his offer of royal guards. So far, the titans who gawked at me still kept a good distance from me and didn’t go out of their way to speak to me. Panic rose as I stupidly tried to hide my face as if I didn’t stand out here because of my size. Just then two titan men dressed in black tunics approached us. Oh crap! I thought trying to figure out how I was going to get out of this situation, when the two men kneeled.
“Your Royal Highness Prince Ivar!”
“Prince?” I exclaimed as I turned to face the yellow haired titan.
“Please get off your knees before causing a scene.” He scratched his head almost as if he was embarrassed.
I then recognized the two men as they stood on their feet, I was so used to seeing them in uniform, not dressed in plain clothes. They were Thorsten’s guards. “You’re Thorsten’s men!”
“Sorry, Your Highness. Our king tasked us with watching you.” One of them spoke up. “We were supposed to maintain a low profile but, once we noticed prince Ivar, we had to make ourselves known!”
“You’re one of Thorsten’s brothers.” I said knowing Thorsten would be relieved to know that another sibling has lived.
“Yes, and I noticed you from the vid of my father’s funeral that I was unfortunately unable to make it to.” He sighed. “You speak our language surprisingly well for a dwarf.”
“Well, I’m a human, not a dwarf.”
“A what now?” he looked confused. “No matter.” He shook his head. “Thank the gods I found someone from the palace. Mikkel is terribly paranoid about being assassinated on the way home and no amount of me telling him to get his shit together is getting through to that thick noggin of his that Falka is dead and the war is over. He’ll be relieved to see royal guards that’s for certain.”
The royal guards quickly summoned one of the sleek vehicles bearing the royal crest to pick us up. I climbed inside with Prince Ivar and we picked up Mikkel from a café not too far away. Mikkel was rail thin with lanky limbs, his face all sharp angles. He sat rigidly, eyes darting around as if expecting an attack at any moment. The poor guy was clearly rattled, even with the guards assuring him of their protection.
"So, Mikkel was it?" I asked gently. "I don’t know how to ask this, but what number are you among the siblings? I’ve never met such a huge family before."
Mikkel gave a jerky nod, wringing his hands. "I'm number seven, and Ivar is number four." His voice was reedy, words tumbling out in a rush.
"Big family," I commented just to keep the conversation going, but I could tell it was difficult for him. "I'm Kal, Thorsten's mate. King Falka is dead. No need to worry now."
"If only it were that simple," Mikkel sighed. His eyes were haunted, like he'd seen hell and barely made it back. "Even with Falka gone, I still see his forces in every shadow."
Ivar placed a comforting hand on Mikkel's shoulder. "You're safe now, brother. We're going home."
Mikkel gave a weak smile at that. I could see the strong bond between the two siblings. And I understood Mikkel's trauma all too well, having endured my own in the past. Sometimes the ghosts lingered long after the danger passed.
We soon arrived at the palace gates and I led the two princes inside. Word of their arrival spread swiftly, and we were met by an influx of wide-eyed servants overjoyed to see more of the royal children return unharmed.
Within moments, Thorsten and the others poured into the grand hall, their faces lighting up. Thorsten embraced Ivar fiercely, relief etched in every line of his body. Even the normally reserved Radorgirn had tears glistening as he hugged Mikkel, who finally relaxed in his big brother's arms.
Queen Mother Fjorgyn openly wept at the sight. "Thank the gods, two more of my babies have come safely home!"
After the initial tearful reunions, Thorsten announced he would send word to Skadi to call off the search for Ivar and Mikkel.Fjorgyn insisted the two princes get checked over by physicians and have baths and meals prepared to help poor Mikkel recover from his trauma.
Despite everything he'd endured, Ivar still shared an easy smile and playful humor. He nudged Thorsten with a wicked grin. "We all thought you died centuries ago, little brother! Yet here you are, still kicking with a pretty consort on your arm. You always were resilient."
Thorsten laughed heartily. "What can I say? I'm hard to kill. But come, let me introduce you to my children once you've settled in."
I stood back, letting the reunited family have their moment. Seeing more broken pieces come together was, I don’t know, exhilarating, and I was loving every new member of Thorsten’s family. Each day here kept getting better and better.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
THORSTEN
Radorgirn stood before me, resplendent in his raiment befitting the high king. The past months of rest and recovery had restored much of his old vigor. At his right side stood his wife Liv, gazing up at Radorgirn with barely concealed longing in her velvet-soft eyes. I had to suppress a smirk at the sight. I’m sure she was relieved to see her husband’s return to the throne, almost as relieved and Kal and I. I had no desire to go through any more politics of who should succeed me. Naturally she wanted her eldest son Ragnar to take the crown and yet, depending on how my sons performed in their growing lives here, many would look to them as acceptable rulers and that would have causedinfighting within the court that I didn’t want to escalate to the point of having to do something extreme to stop.
I wanted my sons to grow up as princes and enjoy the luxuries of such a life without suffering the consequences, and I was lucky enough to be the last born, which meant that without the title of King, we were all free to do just that.
Our mother flanked Radorgirn's left, dabbing at her tears with a square of lace. Her joy at having most of her flock home was palpable. Eldgrim and Stieg looked on beside Skadi and Astrid who kept elbowing each other, struggling and failing to maintain proper decorum even as Helga threatened to flay them alive if they ruined the ceremony. Ivar and Mikkel exchanged wistful smiles. Last week, we had gotten word from Bestla, Eir, and Thrym. They were off adventuring in some ancient Aesir temple said to have survived Ragnarok when news of the war broke out. It took months for them to reach the surface, and by the time they did, they heard that our mother was heading to Ljósálfar. But by the time they reached the country, mother was already gone and our father’s funeral had already come and gone.
Now they were on their way home and as far as I was concerned my duty as King was at an end. At long last, the final pieces of my world had clicked back into place.
