It’s Complicated | Self Para
The special hunt in the Queen’s Forest was concluded. Laufey was impressed. The winner had not been a warrior or a huntsman as she’d expected, but a fisherman who had, as he put it, simply applied the principles of his trade. Herd beasts were not so different from schools of fish in his eyes, so he had had little trouble waiting for the right wild villrein to cross his path.
It made her think a great deal, as she walked away from the crowd of spectators and competitors towards the castle. Tactics from one area of life could be applied to many scenarios. Her experience on the battle field often helped her greatly when holding court and passing laws that saw heavy opposition. Court life was a battle field in its own right, and though it required somewhat different techniques, there was an overlap in tactics. If only her personal life were as easy to navigate.
She dismissed her entourage save for her chamberlain outside the door to the Royal Suites, where she and her family lived. Since Thrymr would not be able to attend this Beltane festival, she would take it to him in the form of news and stories of the day.
It was incredibly warm inside Thrymr’s room. Heavy curtains were shut and nailed into the walls around the windows to block out the chill. The fire was blazing, lighting most of the room single-handedly. Thrymr was propped up on a pile of pillows in bed, and covered by what seemed like the pelts of a whole herd of villrein. At the sight of her, he stirred, turning over a hand so his palm was towards her. He can’t even lift a finger, Laufey thought, and her throat swelled painfully at the realization. Seating herself on the side of his bed and slipping a hand into his, her heart sank further at the heat of his skin. He’d never felt this feverish before. It almost hurt her to touch him, and she was already beginning to sweat a little at the heat of his room.
“Whenever I see you,” Thrymr said, his voice a hoarse whisper so unlike the strong baritone it had once been, “you look as if you’ve already attended my funeral.”
Laufey tried to smile, but it didn’t feel much like she succeeded. “I cannot help it, darling. Each time I see you, I’m reminded of all we will lose when you finally leave us unworthy folk and take your long-awaited place in Valhalla.” Her hand gripped his more tightly, heedless of the sweat on both their palms. “I wish to keep you here, selfish as that is. And our daughter wants to see you walk again. It...” She would not cry now. No. It wouldn’t happen. “It hurts me to see you here and think of all that I have done to bring this upon you.”
The forgiveness in his eyes felt searing and cruel against her guilty heart. “You cannot help what you are anymore than I can help what I am,” he said, thumb rubbing her knuckles gently. “I only wish I could see the joyous faces of our people during this festival. Thyra’s told me it’s beautiful, even with the snow. All the flowers... so many flowers, she said...” A rasping cough shuddered through his body, and instinct drove Laufey to grip his hand yet tighter. When it subsided, Thrymr blinked blearily at her, the ghost of a smile on his lips. “You held your hunt today, did you not? Tell me of it. I heard the cheers from here.”
No tears, Laufey thought as water sprang into her eyes. She straightened and nodded, beaming as brightly as she could. To tell her dear friend and husband of the adventure would be the best distraction.
Leaving Thrymr’s chamber so he could sleep felt like her heart was being pulled from her. Her love for him differed from her love for Farbauti, but she did not think it any less special or meaningful. And seeing her husband so reduced and... shrunken... made her want to sob. My fault... my fault... all my fault.... She locked the door of her study behind her and her chamberlain, who by this point was looking most concerned. “Your majesty, the Hersir’s Joust will start in an hour. We should see to that tax bill as quickly as possible before hand, lest you be late for—”
But Laufey wasn’t listening. Her hand was sorting through papers on her desk, feeling for the crude envelope that had arrived that morning with its clearly intoxicated scrawl inside. Such letters to the Queen were common and often thrown out, but this bore the generic seal of the army, and it’s contents were far more intriguing than any other inebriated tirade she’d received.
“Damn the tax bill,” she said, cutting him short. “There’s more pressing matters to attend to.” A knock at the door drew her eye and made the chamberlain jump. At her nod, he unlocked the door and opened it, allowing Farbauti and another to enter. The chamberlain babbled in surprise at the sight of the Hersir and his favored Forungi Jarnsaxa, but Laufey simply felt cold expectation. Thrymr’s rapid decline and her visit had fueled a steely resolve in her. All she needed was one little piece of information.
“So,” she said, addressing the mighty warriors and again interrupting her startled chamberlain. “Is it true? Is there any validity to these claims?”
Neither Farbauti nor Jarnsaxa needed to speak. The nod of his head and the grin on her face said everything. Laufey’s expression hardened even as her heart soared in elation. “Then go. Take less than ten. Do as we discussed.”
