Petulant ✔︎

11

There was something that always made him relaxed with Gunnar. Maybe it was because he became so spent he could hardly think about anything else. Yes, Gunnar also made him very mad with his childish behavior, but he could also calm him down like no other. Irvina gave him purpose, but the man in his arms gave him excitement. The usual week they spent together was the best time of the year. But as he learned, everything good had to end.

Gunnar squirmed in his arms. His round behind brushing against his manhood. Gorm tugged him closer, his nose brushing the nape of Gunnar's neck. He planned to spend the last two days making sure that he left this place stocked so the man in his arms had less trouble. That didn't go well. He couldn't even get up without Gunnar complaining. So to ease the tension, he spent another day in the bed. Not doing anything else but cuddling. He sighed into Gunnar's ear.

Gorm had his suspicion that Gunnar wanted him to stay because he wasn't planning to leave with him. That pissed him off. He didn't get Gunnar's fear, so he rather, kept his mouth shut. Gorm didn't want to ruin the mood with pointless arguing.

A noise outside brought him out of his thoughts. His head shot up, and he looked towards the door. The window was barricaded, so his only concern was the door. He untangled himself from Gunnar, shushing him when he opened his mouth. He was still very much naked, and goosebumps appeared over his skin when he stepped out of the furs. His fingers wrapped around the axe. He tiptoed towards the door. He heard the crunching of snow and frowned.

No one except Frode and him knew where this cabin was. So either it was a stray person who accidentally found it, or it was Frode. But he would rather point the axe at the little prince than be weaponless. He stepped next to the door, pushing himself against the wooden wall. His eyes met Gunnar's, and he gestured for him to cover himself. Gunnar in return pointed at his exposed body, and Gorm rolled his eyes. The door were pushed open, and he waited with bated breath for someone to step inside. The covered figure stepped inside after a defeating silence. Bringing in cold wind and snow.

Gorm rushed forward. He grabbed the man in a headlock and pushed the sharpened axe under his throat. The male whined before a familiar voice broke the silence.

"Odin, why is your junk pushing against me!" Gorm exhaled in relief and let the man go. The male pushed his hood off, revealing a feather-like beard and braided hair. Hvitserk assessed his naked body before he turned toward Gunnar, hiding under the furs.

He shook his head, "I don't even want to know." Hvitserk walked towards the fire, outstretching his hands. "It's freezing outside." Gorm reached for his breaches and tunic to at least relieve the tension in the room. Hvitserk relaxed when he saw him wearing clothes.

"I thought this place would be much more hidden," he assessed the room, and an easy-going smile reached his lips, "Hvitserk Ragnarsson." Gunnar raised a brow at him before pointedly looking at Gorm. Gorm shrugged.

"How did you get here," he asked gruffly. Hvitserk shrugged his shoulders, "Beat up your brother. I think his name is Frode." Gorm snickered before patting Hvitserk's shoulder. Hvitserk gave him a grin looking much better than last time Gorm saw him. The last time he saw Hvitserk, they shared a mead, and then Hvitserk was puking his guts out.

His look turned somber, "King Erik is visiting." Gorm grimaced, a person who he hated more than Gunnar's childishness.

"What's wrong with that?" Gorm turned to look at Gunnar, "The last time he visited, Irvina had to buy new cooks. That fucker is always undermining anything she says."

Hvitserk nodded, "He declared his support for Frode or Gunnar if they would want to pursue the throne, quite publicly" —he sat into one of the chairs his legs wide apart— "also said some shit how as a female it's time for her to give the throne back to its rightful rulers."

Gorm clenched his hands worriedly, "What did Frode say?" Hvitserk grimaced. "Nothing, just stood there. And as you can see, people are worried, some even agree. Irvina is nervous."

"My sister ruled for nine years. Why would people of Trondheim want to replace her?" Gunnar's voice made Gorm turn.

"Most support her, but some voiced their disagreement with her rule for years. Is Halfdan with her?" He finished the question with a glance at Hvitserk.

He nodded, "Every step of the day." Then he shook his head and added, "Erik has been seen talking with Frode. Irvina thinks he will be naive enough to listen to Erik. She's worried and wants you to come back." Gorm nodded, his hands already reaching for his clothes.

"And I'm supposed to deliver a message, with or without him," Gorm gave Hvitserk a fleeting look at his words but continued to fasten his weapons.

After he pushed his fur cloak around him, he turned to Gunnar. Still hiding under the furs. "It's time for you to come home. You wanted to know what's your purpose. Come home and protect your sister!" Gunnar pursed his lips at the words.

"It might also ease a lot of people if you swear your alliance to your sister," Hvitserk added. That seemed to break Gunnar out of his thoughts, and he held Gorm's eyes. Almost as if he wanted Gorm to tell him what to do.

He sighed before nodding, "Guess it's time to come home." Gorm grinned, tension leaving his shoulders. At his wide grin, Gunnar smiled shily.

Gorm growled when Gunnar pushed the covers of his body. He turned to Hvitserk, "Turn around, or I will gauge your eyes out!" Hvitserk smirked before raising his hands in surrender and turning around.