Chapter 181: 181 - welcome party
181
~Damon’s POV
The palace loomed tall and familiar as the palanquin finally drew into the gates, its carved wooden frame creaking faintly after the long journey back. The sun had dipped low, spilling its last fire across the courtyard stones, and the air carried that quiet stillness that only comes just before nightfall.
The palanquin stopped, and the guards stepped forward to set it carefully down. I rose first, my boots striking the stone. Then, without thinking, I turned and extended my hand toward her. She hesitated only a heartbeat, then placed her palm in mine.
Her hand was small, soft, and the faint tremble in her fingers made my chest tighten. Slowly, I helped her down, steadying her with more care than I should have.
"Careful," I murmured, though she hardly needed the warning.
She looked up at me then, her eyes catching the glow of the palace torches being lit, and for an instant, the world around us, the guards, the servants, the bustle of evening, faded away.
I cleared my throat and forced myself to release her hand, though my skin still burned from the contact.
"Come," I said quietly. "I’ll walk you back."
She nodded, her smile soft, and we moved together across the courtyard. The cool night air brushed against us, carrying with it the faint scent of the gardens beyond. My steps slowed without me realizing it, just to keep pace with her, to make the walk last a little longer.
When we reached her chamber doors, I stopped. She turned toward me, her hands clasped in front of her now, her face lowered, but her eyes lifting once, meeting mine.
"Thank you," she said softly.
"For what?" I asked, my voice rougher than I meant.
"For today."
Her words struck deep. I only nodded, afraid that if I said more, I might betray the storm building in my chest.
I gave a small bow and stepped back, forcing myself to turn. My own chamber was down the corridor, and I had almost reached it when a sound caught my ear: voices.
At first faint, then sharper.
Kael’s. Rowan’s.
And then, another. Deeper. Older. A voice that froze me where I stood.
I narrowed my eyes and followed the sound, my boots quiet against the polished stone floor. The voices came from the hall near the council chamber.
I moved faster, a strange unease curling in my gut.
As I neared, I caught sight of them, Kael, Rowan, standing tense, their bodies angled defensively. And opposite them, cloaked in the heavy folds of travel-stained garments, stood a man I had not seen in years.
My breath stilled.
Fridolf.
Our uncle.
"Uncle..."
The word slipped out before I could stop it, low and steady.
Fridolf turned, and for the first time in years, his eyes met mine. A faint smile curved his lips, warm, grounded, and so achingly familiar it made the years between us collapse in an instant.
I stepped forward, not rushing, not faltering, but with the firm stride of a man who had waited too long. When we clasped forearms, the strength in his grip was unchanged. Then, almost against my own instincts, I pulled him closer into a brief, solid embrace, nothing extravagant, but heavy with meaning.
"It’s been too long," I said, my voice rough, the words sharpened by all the years of silence. "Where have you been, Uncle? Do you have any idea how much your absence has cost us? You left after we took the throne and walked away, just like that."
Fridolf gave a low chuckle, the sound rumbling like it had when we were boys at his side. He pulled back slightly, his hands steady on my shoulders. "I know, lad. I know. I’ve missed you all more than you can imagine."
Kael stood just behind me, jaw tight, his eyes fixed on Fridolf with that rare flicker of emotion he never let anyone else see. Rowan’s chest rose and fell faster than usual, his fists clenching once before he finally allowed himself a sharp nod in greeting. None of us broke down, none of us spilled over with words, but the air itself was thick with the weight of what had been lost and what was suddenly returned.
I studied Fridolf. Older, yes. Weathered, marked by years of hard miles. But unbroken. Solid. The same anchor he had always been. And gods, how we had needed that anchor. He was a true one. He helped us when we killed our father, giving us tactics on how to escape from that monster, and after we got hold of the throne, he vanished.
"We thought you were dead," I said flatly. The words were less confession than accusation.
His smile dimmed, but his gaze never wavered. "I know. And perhaps I should have been. The road I walked was not one a man comes back from easily. But I endured. And now, I am here."
I gave a short nod, not trusting myself to say more. My throat burned, but I kept my composure.
"Then it’s enough," I muttered finally, gripping his forearm again, this time tighter. "You’re here now. That’s all that matters."
Fridolf’s hand came down against my back, firm and grounding, just as he used to when I was a boy.
"We need to throw you a welcome party," Kael yelled out, and we all supported him.
The great hall was lit with fire, shadows dancing across the carved beams overhead. The scent of roasted boar and spiced venison filled the air, mingling with the thick sweetness of mead already spilling into mugs faster than the servants could carry the barrels.
It wasn’t long before the hall roared with life. Warriors slammed their tankards together, their laughter booming against the stone walls. Songs rose, old songs, war songs, the kind that made the blood run hot and the heart beat faster.
Fridolf, of course, took to it as though he had never been gone a day. He stood at the center of it all, tankard in one hand, his arm already draped around a pretty serving maid with dark hair and laughing eyes. She giggled as he spun her into the crude rhythm of the pipes and drums, and soon another young woman joined them, drawn by his booming laugh and the careless charm that seemed to spill from him as easily as the wine he drank.
Kael smirked into his cup, shaking his head. "Some things never change."
Rowan chuckled low, though his eyes softened as he watched. "Ohhh. The man hasn’t lost his taste for women or drink."
The music grew louder, feet stomping against the floor as the women whirled in their dresses. Fridolf caught another by the waist, lifting her into the air as she squealed, then setting her down with a flourish that sent the hall into cheers.