Otto and Lukas arrived in Thunderhill a little less than two weeks later, with Petra, Britta, and Rolf. It was close to nightfall when they returned, tired but pressing on past when they would have usually rested to make it the rest of the day. Thunderhill's walls had already been repaired from the damage Ursa Magnus had done. The group was let through the gates with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty, Otto could tell, as the warriors on guard scanned the faces of those who had made it back, and no doubt assumed the worst of the rest.
They left the reindeer down at the stables and began the walk up to the great hall. As they neared the inner gate, Hald burst through, running toward them.
"Brother!" he cried. "You've returned."
"Hald! And you've grown even bigger, haven't you?" Otto teased, same joke he'd made for years after returning home from hunting trips or raids. "You'll be as tall as a troll next time I get back."
"If you're gone so long again, I will be," Hald laughed. He wrapped both arms around Otto and hugged him tightly, clapping him on the back. Pain shot through Otto, who was still bruised though healing, but he ignored it. It was good to be home.
"Welcome back, Petra," Hald said, releasing Otto to greet the other warriors. "And Rolf, Britta, Lukas." He dropped into a more formal tone. "We honor the great quest you have made, and honor those who did not return with you, giving their lives for the greater good. There, Otto, did I do that right?"
"Close enough," said Otto. Hald chuckled and bent down to scratch Bitty, who jumped at him eagerly.
As they walked together, burghers gathered under workshop awnings and in doorways, watching the returning warriors. Some were giddy, waving and calling out, while others whispered to each other, grim questions etched on their faces. Otto knew what they wondered: Why had they come back with their ranks so thin? The warriors they had lost had been well known and respected, and both absent mages fulfilled vital roles in the burg.
But Otto saved his answers and explanations until they were sitting at the high table of the great hall, all four of his companions joining him. Werner and Sverre greeted Otto with a brotherly hug, though Werner looked at Otto's bandaged arm with worry, his embrace pointedly gentle. Supper had been finished, but servants laid out bread, smoked cod, and pickled vegetables, which Otto gratefully dug into.
King Johan and King Isak sat together in their seats at the center of the table. Johan looked older than he had before, but there was iron beneath his wrinkling skin, a resolute strength that would not leave him until his last breath did. One of his hands was a pale wooden prosthetic, lifelike enough that Otto had to do a second take to confirm it was indeed fake; the other hand was clearly maimed, but Johan could hold and lift his goblet with his remaining fingers.
"Welcome back, my son," King Johan said. He gave a brief nod to the others, but addressed Otto alone. "I trust you return to us in victory."
"I do," Otto said. "We tracked Ursa Magnus to his cave and slew him. It was an arduous journey, but our quest has been fulfilled, and Thunderhill—and all of Tegland—may thrive knowing the beast will never return."
Otto told them the tale from start to finish, including the villages at which they had stopped, the nomads they had come across, the decision to fight the trolls, the consultation with the bishop at Skullmont. In telling the battle, he was honest, telling of his own injuries and that it had been Lukas who had landed the final blow, the one who had made the difference between a noble but failed quest and bloody victory.
"We've brought the skulls of Elov, Hertha, and Peder to rest in honor," Otto said when he had finished his tale.
"May Noll welcome them to the next realm," said Isak. "We owe them greatly."
"Tomorrow, we will begin feasting," Johan said. "This is a momentous victory, the story of which will travel far across Tegland, especially once Frostwood has seen for themselves." He shook his head once, disgusted at Frostwood's skepticism. "We will prepare the mausoleum for Hertha and Peder, and a rightful resting place for Elov. I will speak with the priest of Orvar, and we will hold the rites on the third night of feasting at sunset."
"For now, you should rest, so that you may be full of vigor for tomorrow," Isak said.
"They just returned—the drinking should begin tonight!" complained Hald.
"We will send teams of warriors to the village and to Frosthill to fetch Ulf, Cori, Viggo, and Kennet," Isak continued, ignoring his youngest son. "After the feasting, however, and we will hold another feast upon their return to honor them as well."
"Thank you, fathers," Otto replied, rising. Lukas stood with him.
"I'll stay up and drink," Rolf replied to Hald, "and save sleep for the dead—honor be with them."
Britta and Petra went off their own way, Lukas following Otto up the stairs toward the nobles' rooms. Otto inhaled the familiar scent of alder and pine walls, the wool of the carpets and the scented smoke of the candles. When they arrived at his room, Otto half expected Lukas to hang back, but Lukas followed him in, shutting the door behind him.
Otto smiled at his partner's certainty, watching as Lukas briefly took in his surroundings—the fine rug, the large bed on its sturdy frame, the cream-and-teal tapestry on the wall. If Lukas thought it too much, he didn't say, instead sitting upon the bed and beginning to remove his many travel-worn layers.
"I don't know how Rolf still has energy in him," Otto said as he and Lukas stripped off their boots, side by side.
"He's never one to miss a chance to brag and drink," Lukas said, getting up to briefly wash his hands and face in the basin.
"He'll get on well with Hald, then," said Otto. It felt so right, having Lukas in here with him, his partner already making himself well at home. After Lukas was done washing, he did likewise.
"Truth be told," Otto said as he rejoined Lukas on the bed, "I most desperately want sleep right now. Half a day of it, if I can, and nothing to trouble me but dreams, with you beside me."
"Agreed," Lukas said. He folded his clothes neatly, then slipped under the covers. He smirked at Otto. "I'm not being too presumptuous, am I?" He gestured to his position in the bed.
"No, I have you right where I want you," said Otto, climbing in as well and moving in to press his body against Lukas's. The bed warmed quickly under the blankets with their shared body heat, and Otto soon drifted off to the sound of Lukas's even, calming breathing.
*~*~*
Otto woke to the twin comforts of his familiar bed, impossibly luxurious after traveling so long, and his lover beside him. He took his time coming out his drowsiness, and when he finally felt too fidgety to lay still, he awoke Lukas by pressing kisses upon his sleeping face.
They went down to the sauna soon after waking, Lukas rebuffing Otto's playful advances with the insistence he could still feel grit on too much of his body. The sauna was more empty than not, and Otto took his time with each step, until he felt every speck of grime washed away. After putting on freshly laundered clothes, another welcome change, they grabbed some cold food for breakfast, and though Otto's disciplined mind suggested he should spend his first day back getting back into sword drills, he ignored it. For one, his arm was still recovering—he would need to see another green sorcerer about it, later today. But more importantly, Lukas had suggested they return to the bedroom, and Otto was more than eager to.
As soon as the door was shut, Lukas tore into Otto's clothes with desperate frenzy. Their capes fell to the floor with a thud of the metal brooches, tunics pulled off in haste, boots and socks and trousers and undergarments falling into a pile of disarray as they stumbled toward the bed. They pushed the blankets aside, bodies pressed together, cocks hardening.
"I want to be inside you," Lukas said huskily.
"Then you'd best get warming me up," said Otto.
Lukas hopped down off the bed and rummaged in the pouches of his belt for a minute, then pulled out a small vial of rapeseed oil. Sitting back on the bed between Otto's legs, Lukas poured some onto his fingers. Otto watched hungrily, eager for Lukas's touch. Their flings on the trail had been invigorating, but he'd been hoping for this particular indulgence, only practical in their stabler, and more private, circumstances.
Otto hummed with pleasure as Lukas placed two fingers on his arsehole. Lukas placed his other hand on Otto's thigh, and Otto wrapped one hand around his own cock. Otto touched himself gently as Lukas stroked his fingers in circles, then very slowly began to press inward. Otto felt himself beginning to relax, focusing on the pleasure and forcing his hand to move slowly. He didn't want to spill himself too quickly.
Fingers pressing in farther, sending little shocks of pleasure through Otto, Lukas leaned down to pepper kisses over Otto's chest. Otto gasped as Lukas curled his fingers, and squeezed his hand around himself. Lukas slid his fingers partway out, then back in, crooking them as he went. Pleasure built within Otto rapidly, and he quit stroking himself for the moment.
"I want to feel your cock in me," Otto said. He hadn't noticed how heavily he was breathing, how alive every inch of him felt.
Lukas straightened, sitting back, and withdrew his fingers, pouring on a little more oil and then wrapping them around his phallus. He gave himself a few pumps, his erection stiff and flush, and steadied himself, poised to enter Otto.
The sensation of wonderful fullness overtook Otto as Lukas pushed himself in. Otto could feel himself opening to Lukas, yet holding him tight as a glove. As Lukas rocked his hips, Otto grabbed his own cock again, touching himself in rhythm with Lukas's motions. With each thrust, Lukas seemed to reach deeper inside him, sending tremors of increasing strength as Lukas brushed against the most sensitive spot within Otto, and Otto's erection throbbed with arousal. Otto wanted this moment to last forever, but he could barely keep himself steady, groaning as he ascended toward climax, torn desperately between wanting to come and wanting Lukas to come within him.
But Otto could only hold himself back for so long. Far too soon, he felt himself edging along the precipice of climax. Otto pumped himself hard as he watched a drop of sweat trickle down Lukas's hairline, lips parted with exertion as Lukas thrust fast and heavily.
"Oh, Lukas!" Otto cried out as he came, hot seed spurting onto his belly.
Lukas didn't slow, gasping as he worked his hips and dragged out Otto's orgasm. Just as Otto felt it might be too much, his erection starting to subside, he felt Lukas's cock twitch, and a burst of heat as Lukas came within him.
Lukas collapsed onto Otto, wrapping his arms around him. Otto kissed him deeply, the messiness of their sweat and seed be damned. They held each other for long moments, before reluctantly, Otto shifted, and Lukas pulled out his softening cock and climbed off the bed. They'd need to clean up again, and prepare for the feast.
*~*~*
The celebrations began in the late afternoon, as all of Thunderhill had heard the news by now that the warriors had returned, victorious, their exploits worthy of the legend of the century. Already, Otto heard snatches of the tale as it passed from mouth to mouth, details pulled and twisted. The fabrications ranged from slight exaggeration to absurd: The trolls numbered ten, no, a dozen; the cave was at the top of the mountain, or right outside the gates of Frostwood; Otto alone had blinded Ursa by plunging his sword into not one but both eyes; the bishop of Noll had demanded human sacrifice, but Otto had threatened to make him the sacrifice.
Again, Otto's companions were welcomed at the high table, where they'd stay until the feasting ended. Britta looked slightly downcast; she missed her nomad band, but none could know their precise path, and finding them would take many days. It seemed a little wrong to Otto that they were feasting without the nomads, who had been even more impacted by Ursa's attack than the burghers. He resolved that a special feast and ceremony for the dead would have to be held, jointly, when the bands returned for winter.
Rolf and Hald bantered happily, which made Otto grin. He still was not fond of Rolf, but the warrior had fought bravely and never wavered from the mission despite his talk. Besides, the two of them could rib each other instead of him.
Mead and wine flowed freely, the tables stacked with as much food as midsummer, perhaps more. Otto helped himself to roast haunches of reindeer meat, turnip and mutton stew with herbs, crunchy fried lichen, and rye bread stuffed with goat cheese before he began to lose track of it all. Only once the food had slowed, during a break before another round would be brought out, to tell tales and boast and toast, did Otto look for his opportunity to make his announcement.
"We are gathered here today," Johan began loudly, banging his mug upon the table in an ineffective attempt to gather order. He and Isak stood together.
"Quiet!" Isak roared, banging his mug as well. The high table hushed as Isak roared again, until all others realized and quieted as well.
"We are gathered here today," Johan repeated, "to celebrate the victory of our best Thunderhill warriors against the infamous beast Ursa Magnus." A thunderous roar of approval echoed through the hall from the gathered crowd, and Isak held up a hand for silence. "I am pleased to host my son, Otto, Prince of Thunderhill, and his brave companions, Petra, also of Thunderhill, and Lukas, Rolf, and Britta, of Alderhard based in Thunderhill. Without further ado, I will let Otto speak to you, all the sooner that we may return to feasting and celebration of these peerless warriors who have slain a legend!"
Johan and Isak sat again, and Otto rose. Looking around the room, at his family and fellow warriors, husbands and wives, elders and tots alike, he remembered Sigrid's words about the exchange of life and death. Otto had seen so much death these past several weeks, but he had preserved even more life.
"In battle against Ursa Magnus, we lost the bold warriors Hertha and Peder, and red sorcerer Elov. They fought with courage in the face of death, and I do not doubt Noll has held the gate wide open to their souls. Rites to honor them with a place of rest in our mausoleum will be held on the third night of feasting.
"Kennet, Viggo, Ulf, and Cori have not yet returned, as Kennet and Ulf were both gravely injured. We expect both to return by the autumn equinox, at which time we will feast again." That brought another cheer from the group.
"We fought not just for honor, and for dame Volha's fire burning in our hearts, but for the very life of Thunderhill. Our hilltop home, our great walls—good job repairing them, by the way—" Otto drew a few laughs and hollers from the group, "our fertile lands, our strong reindeer, but most of all, all of our people."
Otto grinned as the room cheered, even as his nerves prickled at him. He took a deep breath before continuing, with every grain of confidence he could muster.
"As your prince, it is my duty to ready myself to lead you. And as a warrior, I have long been in need of a spouse. On this festive occasion, it is my pleasure and my honor to ask for the betrothal of Lukas Matson."
Lukas rose to gasps and whistles from the crowd. Otto could see that while many were surprised, plenty of others—his fathers and mother included—instead held knowing smiles. Werner raised his eyebrows briefly, but Sverre smacked his hand and gave an approving, welcoming nod.
Otto took the golden brooch off his tunic, carefully holding his cape in place with his still-injured arm. He proffered it to Lukas, who took a half step closer and removed his own brooch.
"I have fought beside you, and I pledge to spend the rest of my days beside you, if you will have me," Otto said, pushing the brooch through Lukas's cape and tunic as best he could with one hand. The traditional words flowed through him, words he had never spoken but had wanted to for so long, first years ago and now—now he had the opportunity to say them to a warrior who had survived with him.
"I have fought beside you, and I pledge to spend the rest of my days beside you, if you will have me," echoed Lukas, pinning his own brooch to Otto. Otto released his cape, and adjusted his brooch on Lukas. The two of them turned to the kings, both of whom nodded with approval, hand in hand with each other. Isak and Johan rose.
"As King of Thunderhill, I witness and mark this betrothal of Otto and Lukas!" Johan said.
"As King of Thunderhill, I second the witness and confirm the betrothal of Otto and Lukas!" said Isak.
Otto and Lukas turned to each other again, and placing an arm around each other, kissed. Their betrothal was sealed. Eventually, Otto would have to release Lukas—to eat again, to make merry into the night, to someday soon fight again. But for now, he could fully surrender himself to his love, and the love that surrounded the two of them, here at home.