The Throne I Left

Uh oh. Note looked pissed.

Johan smiled sheepishly as his eyes met Note’s. His arms were crossed, fists white and jaw clenched.

Right, maybe they should have told him the shopping trip had to wait.

Johan was about to start explaining when Note seemed to notice the kid in his arms. An alarmed expression quickly replaced the angry one.

“What the hell happened to you?!” Note yelled, stepping towards them.

“Uh…We got a bit sidetracked.” Johan said, realizing how bad this looked. Johan got away pretty much unscathed but all of them had some variation of bloody scratches from the thorns, and in addition to that Signe was covered in plant gunk.

“It’s fine-” Signe started.

“Why do you have a kid?” Note continued, ignoring both of them. “And who is-”

Note stopped in his tracks, his face falling. Johan quickly followed his eyes to see Astrid. And her belly.

His heart skipped a beat. Oh no.

“Wait-” Johan started, but by the time he turned back, Note was already walking away, fists clenched white at his side. “Damn it. Signe, take the kid.”

Johan quickly handed over Einar and went after Note.

Behind him he could hear Astrid asking something, but he didn’t stop to listen, leaving Signe to deal with it as he hurried after Note.

Note had disappeared straight into the woods behind the house but luckily it wasn’t too hard to catch up.

“Where are you going?!” Johan yelled when he finally saw Note amongst the trees.

“I’m going to do something good since apparently I’m the reason nobody is being born!” Note yelled without looking back. “People can’t die because of Signe, but at least they get to live! Babies are dying because of me!”

“Note-”

“No!” Note yelled, his footsteps going faster.

“I was there!” Johan burst out, feeling the anger and frustration flowing through him.

And finally. Finally! Note stopped walking.

“Hey.” Johan hissed, walking around him only to find Note staring at the ground. “Look at me. I was there.” He repeated, and Note finally looked up to meet his eyes, his face cold and dark. “I watched you get taken, I watched you get killed.”

The deep despair from years ago bubbled up inside him. If anyone was to blame it was Johan!

“None of this is your fault! I was there for the entire thing. I saw everything! And I didn’t do anything! None of it is your fault. You had to protect me. That’s why you died. So don’t blame yourself. Blame me.”

Note glared at him. Johan tensed but didn’t look away. Rough hands grabbed his collar and he was pulled closer. Their noses were close enough to touch, but still Johan refused to show any weakness.

“I did protect you.” Note snarled. “And I would do it again.”

Then he was gone. Disappearing past him before Johan even had the time to process what he had just said.

He would do it again?

Johan tok a deep breath, taking a second to calm his anger.

It didn’t work.

“What the fuck?!” Johan yelled and spun around. “Note!”

He quickly followed where Note had once again disappeared between the trees.

They had been going uphill and by the time Johan stumbled out of the woods, they had made it close to a top. Instead of more woods or a meadow, the mountain opened up into a big, open field. Further up ahead was the last peak of the mountain, but before that the ground flattened out, both the sky and the ocean in clear view over the forest as the mountain stretched on, covered in green grass and random patches of pure white snow.

The ground crunched under his feet and Johan’s eyes snapped down to see dry, brown stilks of something packed against the ground.

He frowned in confusion, then suddenly realized what it was. Wheat. It was a dead wheat field. And right in the middle of it stood Note, his back to Johan.

Johan quickly glanced around as he approached Note. What a weird place to plant wheat, it was so far from the village.

“Note.” Johan started. “I understand that you’re upset. But no matter what, you can’t change the past.”

Note didn’t say anything but Johan could see his muscles tensing.

Then Note turned around. Johan startled when he saw his eyes glowing a deep purple.

“I know, but at least I can do this.” Note said ominously.

Johan narrowed his eyes. Where was he going with this?

Suddenly black smoke appeared around the field, slowly creeping in from the edges until it covered the whole thing, floating around them almost like fog. Johan could feel the coldness on his legs as it got close.

And as quickly as it came, it disappeared. The smoke dissipated in the air and when Johan took a step forward he met resistance in the form of waist-high, bright yellow strands of wheat.

The field was turned back to life.

Johan’s eyes never left Note’s. They stood at a standstill. It was impressive, sure. But what was the point of it?

“Wow…!”

A chill went down his spine and Johan jerked around just in time to see something duck down in the wheat.

“What are you?” Johan yelled in surprise. Was there someone there?!

“A painter!” It quickly yelled back and Johan tok a step back as hands shot out over the wheat, held up like in surrender.

Johan twitched, his heart pounding in his chest. A...a painter?

When there was no more movement from the…painter, Johan quickly glanced back at Note, who looked just as shocked. Their eyes met for a second before Johan quickly looked back to the hands.

Then suddenly the painter shot to his feet. Johan froze as the very tall painter closed in at a shocking speed and he stumbled back as the guy came to a dead stop right in front of him, barely a foot of space between them and suddenly there was an arm around him.

“Don’t fall!” The painter yelled and bent down way too close to Johan’s face.

Johan leaned back. What…

“A.. painter...” Johan mumbled unintelligibly, skin crawling.

“A painter!” The guy repeated, and let go of Johan in favor of straightening his back, chin to the sky and hand to his heart.

Johan tok a big step back. Then another one.

“A painter.” Johan repeated again, feeling more stupid than Note. The painter faltered, eyes coming back from looking at the horizon to look down at Johan in confusion.

“Yes. I am a painter.”

“Ok. You are a painter.” Johan couldn’t remember the last time he felt this lost.

“Yes I am.” The guy answered, sounding pleased.

Johan stared, trying to wrap his head around the situation. Looking at him Johan would expect some kind of weirdo but wasn’t this a bit much? From his very normal clothes hung dead wheat, dirt covering his front as well as his face, like he had face-planted right into the ground more than once. And beneath all the dirt on his face Johan could just barely make out smudged, white war paint.

“What is wrong with your face?” Note piped up, stepping past Johan as he tried to gather himself.

“Oh this? Ah...” The painter faltered and awkwardly scratched his chin, then continued at a volume that was much easier on the ears. “I thought your friend would appreciate it but it seems she isn’t here. She seemed to like white so...”

That was the stupidest thing Johan had ever heard- And the worst thing was that the painter was absolutely right, Signe would appreciate it.

Johan eyed the guy closely. He didn’t seem dangerous. He knew the artistic type of people were stupid beyond fault, often mistaken as bravery by their fans. Like Frey, who had hunted down a dangerous and reclusive fossegrim just to learn how to play his fele better. Sure it worked, but in Johan’s opinion a month of camping at a waterfall just to play a slightly better rendition of the party version of the ‘March of Fate’ was a huge waste of time.

Anyway.

“Why were you spying on us?” Johan asked coldly and crossed his arms.

The guy faltered further. “I wasn’t spying…”

“Yeah? What do you call it then, research?” Johan knew this dance after growing up with Frey.

“Uhh…n-no..” He watched as the guy froze, stuttering as he tried to deny it.

“Well, what you saw was very, very…” Johan stepped closer, eyes narrowing as he stared unwaveringly at the guy, watching him shrink in on himself with each of Johan’s steps.

“-Personal.” He finished firmly, coming to a stop. “So what are we going to do about that?”

It wasn’t a question. People watching Signe kill the nøkks was one thing. Someone seeing Note revive a field of dead wheat, however, could cause problems very quickly.

“Johan, it’s going to be more suspicious if we kill him.” Note said darkly, quickly catching on and coming up to join him. “But he could ‘run away’.

“That does seem to be the best choice.” Johan agreed. “If he tells anyone it would have to be the whole village, not just him.”

Note gave him a curt nod and together they turned their eyes to the painter.

The taller man was frozen in fear, big doe eyes open as he looked panicked back and forth between them, his face looking pale through all the dirt and paint.

Johan cocked his head and without a word Note stepped back, his hand drawing the hairpin from its place and letting his hair fall down to his shoulders as the hairpin tok on a bright gold glow.

“Wait! Wait!” The painter cried out and he fell back as the glow faded away to show the pitch black blade in Note’s hands. “I didn’t see anything I swear!”

“Don’t lie.” Note tok a step forward.

“Ah! Fine! I did see it but I promise won’t tell anyone! I don’t want to die!”

Johan looked away for a second to control his face, the corners of his mouth threatening to pull up in a smile.

“Do you swear?” Johan asked emotionlessly.

“I swear!”

And with that Johan finally let out a snort, quickly followed by actual laughter as Note couldn’t hold it back anymore, his eyes disappearing at the force of his smile and he stepped out of the attack stance, putting the hairpin back in his hair.

Meanwhile the painter stared at them in confusion, the terrified expression still on his face as they laughed.

“Fine, fine, as long as you swear.” Johan forced out through the laughter. “You wanted to meet Signe right? Come on.”

Johan started walking, trying to calm himself. Note patted the painter’s shoulder as they passed.

They walked alone for a long moment before the painter spoke again.

“W-wh...Really?”

“Yeah.” Johan replied, amused, and paused to see if the guy was going to follow them. Two big eyes settled on him and for a second the painter just sat there.

And then he cheered.

Johan flinched back. Oof, he touched his ear gingerly. Hadn’t the guy learnt what an inside voice was?

The painter jumped to his feet and quickly ran over to fall in step slightly behind them.

“So you’re not going to kill me...right?” He asked cautiously, looking genuinely worried.

“Not as long as you don’t tattle.” Johan assured.

“You won’t kill me and I get to meet her. Ahh, life is great.” He sighed and clutched his cheeks, fawning at the sky.