First Frost (ONC 2023 Novella, MxM Paranormal)

Epilogue: Summer Snow

9 months later

If you're not from Scandinavia, you may think cool weather lingers year around. That snowflakes whirl in the air in August and frost lines windows in May. But even on these Northern latitudes, summer can be scorching and endless.

The sun hangs high in the sky even at late hours, trapping us in humid rooms unable to sleep. Because our houses are built to heat in winter rather than chill in summer. Everyone is sweaty and dust from dry streets sticks to our limbs. The whole country longs for rain to nourish fields and cool heating skin.

But on this summer day, the weather is the least of my worries. Burning sunshine or chilling frost, I wouldn't miss being by Anton's side for the world.

I squeeze his hand as we admire the brand-new bundle laying in the crib in front of us. After a night filled with labor, Sofia is finally getting some rest. Anton and I insisted that she'd get some sleep, while we watched over the baby.

Freja was born this morning before the cool morning air was replaced by pressing heat. She's named after the Norse goddess of love, fertility, war, and death. That's quite a heavy moniker to carry for such a precious sleepy creature. But yet it fits perfectly for a child born into a tangled mess of romance, betrayal, and battles against ancient beings. Somehow, we've made that mess ours, thriving among shards of what could have been.

What we actually became is better. Within the mess, we can all be ourselves, with no lies holding us back.

Anton reaches out to caress his daughter's cheek. "You think she knows who I am?" he asks, marveling at her impossibly small features. I realize he may not ever have even held a child before, as he had no older siblings or other relatives who have spawned offspring. Luckily, I got plenty of experience with my sister's couple of wildlings though.

"Perhaps..." I reply, not wanting to let him down by telling him that infants can barely recognize their own hand in front of them. Freja will know who she is soon enough.

The question is who I will be to her. Because considering that Anton and I are out to the world now, even the curious people of our small town, I will definitely be in her life. Luckily, our relationship wasn't as big of a bomb as we had imagined, most people just congratulated us and then moved on with their own lives.

I suppose children have been through worse things than being raised by three caring parents.

"You think she'll like motorcycles?" Anton wonders, keeping his focus on the important things.

"She may," I reply. "Although maybe you should wait a couple of years to give her one..."

"I'll start with a Lego one," he decides, beaming happily as Freja stirs slightly in the crib. He reached out a hand to adjust her swaddle. "But if she likes Barbies or horses or whatever, that's fine too."

All the while we talk, his gaze never wavers from his daughter, watching every twitch and listening to every squeak in adoring amazement.

***

A cold breeze chills by shorts-clad legs when we exit the hospital gates. The chill surprises me as there has been no respite from sunshine the last few weeks. Anton has on more than one occasion headed out in the middle of the night to deliver popsicles to poor Sofia, suffering worse than most in the unrelenting heat.

I look up into the sky, where streaks of gray shade the sky. There has been nothing but clear blue sky the last few weeks. "It may finally rain," I say, nudging Anton to look up.

"Great," he replies. "Then it won't be too hot for Freja once she and Sofia come home."

The plan is for him to stay in Sofia's apartment during the coming weeks, helping with nappy changes and nighttime feedings. I would help as well but I have to go back to university in Stockholm next week. But I will be around whenever I can to alleviate their parental burdens.

Walking out from underneath the ceiling covering the hospital gate, I feel a cold sting on my arm.

Looking down, I realize it's not rain. It's snow. A perfectly shaped snowflake melts on my warm skin.

Before I can say anything, the air is filled with fluffy white crystals, blowing in the wind like dandelion fluff.

Anton turns to me. "Snow?" he asks, a tone of wonder in his voice. "Summer snow? Has that ever happened before?"

Knowing meteorology, I know it has. And I also know the reason. My grandfather has told me about the summer of 1964 when he fought a magnificent beast and won.

"Not often..." I mumble, not wanting to worry Anton in his new parent bliss. This isn't his problem. It's mine. Or rather Jokul's.

Looking toward the lake in the distance, I see rumbling shapes on the horizon, disguising themselves as clouds but not escaping my keen eyes. I know Forn's there and I know I will have to fight him again.

But this time, I'm ready. I know what my powers entail and I have someone, or rather several someone's, to fight for.

I will vanquish him for Anton and Freja's sake.

The End 

Thank you to everyone who has read this story! It's been quite a special experience to write it as I've never set a story in my home country before, so translating that environment to something relatable to non-Swedes has been a challenge. 

This has also been a freeing story to write as I haven't spent much time on editing (because of the time constraints) so I've kinda just let the words flow and then pressed Publish. This may make for a messier story but perhaps also for a purer one.

As you may be able to tell from the ending, I'm leaving this story open to sequels but I can't promise anything. And if this is the end, I think we still leave Joakim and Anton on a good note. I may also try to extend this story for the Wattys but that would require quite a lot of extra scenes as this story is right above 20k right now (an extension to me means the story would still end at the same point but I would add extra scenes on the way toward that to add depth to the plot).

Once again, thanks for reading!