by S. T. Bende
Ull reached up to cradle my face. He wiped my tears with the pad of his thumb, then leaned in to plant a kiss on my forehead.
“That part comes later,” Odin chastised, much to our guests’ amusement.
“Jeg elsker deg,” Ull whispered as he pulled away.
“I love you too,” I whispered back.
Ull pulled his shoulders back and repeated Odin’s words. They wrapped around me like a warm cocoon, enveloping me in the security of their pledge. “I, Ull, take thee, Kristia, for my lawfully wedded wife. To have and to hold, from this day forward. For better. For worse. For richer. For poorer. In sickness and in health.” His eyes misted over as he spoke the final line. “As long as we both shall live.”
My eyes spilled over at the sight of Ull’s solitary tear, and for one endless moment we stood, Ull stroking my face and me staring at the deity who had pledged his life to mine. As impossible as this day had seemed, every moment within it felt absolutely right. Ull had been my destiny all along.
As Odin said the words that bound us together, Ull’s eyes bored straight into my soul. Joy radiated from every part of his massive being. I’d never seen him like this, and I desperately wanted it to stick; happiness suited him.
Odin folded his hands and his voice dropped. “Please face me,” he commanded. A lump burrowed in my throat. Ull raised a questioning eyebrow and I gave a slight nod. I was as ready as I would ever be, but after this morning’s “procedure” I was also a smidge terrified. If this part of my transformation felt anything like the other part, our friends were in for one heck of a show.
Odin picked up an enormous hammer and began to sing. Mjölnir was magnificent in person. It was easily the size of a smallish dog or largish cat, depending on your allegiances, and it shone with a brilliance that more than hinted at its divine origin. Odin’s voice rang through the chapel, voicing the magic that would change me forever from Kristia Tostenson, mortal, to Mrs. Ull Myhr, Goddess of Winter and Protector of Asgard. Ull squeezed my fingers and I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Breathe, Kristia. It can’t possibly be worse than this morning. Just breathe. I waited, but the pain never came. Instead, I felt my brain getting warmer. The build became more intense, but it didn’t hurt. It felt like I was filling with energy, the cells of my chest buzzing frantically and bouncing off one another. The warmth created a deep peace that radiated slowly, traveling down my spine to my back, and then to my arms and legs before reaching my tingling extremities.
As the warmth came back to my head I felt so light, so full of joy and brightness, I was certain it must be noticeable. I glanced at my friends but they seemed unaware of my transformation. Only the Norse party bore recognition, their heads bowed in reverence.
Another jolt surged through my spine, drawing my shoulders back and elongating my torso. The energy traveled upward, tiny bubbles of energy popping along each vertebra until my head felt like it was filled with my favorite pink champagne. As each bubble popped, it filled my brain with a memory that wasn’t my own. I saw the creation of the worlds, born of the darkness that stretched between fiery Muspelheim to icy Nifheim. The disparate climates mixed together, lava merging with the glacial river until realms filled the darkness. I saw the birth of the races from the jotun, Ymir; the creation of the cow Audhumla, whose appetite freed the ancestors of Odin. I saw Odin fashion the earth from Ymir’s remains, and craft mortals from the trees he found by the sea. I saw Odin’s marriage to Frigga, the birth of the Æsir, and their daily meetings at the world tree, Yggdrasil.
Then my visions changed, zooming in on each scene as its bubble rose into my head. I saw Idunn creating the magical apples. Then my frame of reference tunneled through the apple to its core, so I could see the immortality formula on a molecular level. I saw Tyr, the God of War, as he led Asgard’s army into battle against the residents of Muspelheim. Then I saw him administer the fatal blow to a trio of fire giants. Bloody streaks obscured my vision as his broadsword pierced the boil-ridden flesh of his victim.
I saw a woman I knew was Freya leading a herd of flying horses, each bearing a beautiful female warrior on its back. I zeroed in on one as she dove over a human battlefield, easily wresting a fallen soldier in her arms before taking off for Odin’s hall at Valhalla. I saw the battles of a millennium—attacks by frost giants, ogres, trolls and dark elves, all in the amount of time it took Odin to finish singing his verse. As his voice reverberated on his ending note, I saw one final vision. A little blond boy climbed the back of a couch to stare out a window. Outside, Sif gave a small wave before taking Thor’s hand and walking out of sight. She wore her sword in her belt, and carried a backpack that must have contained battle provisions. The little boy pressed his palm against the glass, warm breath fogging the cold surface. His shoulders sagged and his little body started to shake. Olaug came up from behind, pulling him firmly into her lap. She held the boy while he cried, murmuring something in his ear I couldn’t make out. When he looked up, she brushed his tears away with her wrinkled fingers. Then she took his hand and led him to the kitchen, helping him onto a stool and handing him a carton of eggs. His face lit up as he attacked his task. His little tongue stuck out of the corner of his mouth, and when he finished cracking the last egg he looked at Olaug with such a proud expression, my heart tugged. She beamed back at him, kissing his forehead and dusting his nose with one floured finger. He laughed as he started to measure out the sugar, his tears now forgotten.
I blinked and the vision disappeared. But my glimpse into Asgard’s history—and Ull’s—was something I wouldn’t soon forget. Nor would I take it for granted. Ull’s world… my world… balanced on the back of a thousand battles. Our freedom depended entirely on the ability of its warriors to defend the realm. And to fight those battles, our warriors and their families had to make sacrifices of their own. It didn’t escape my notice for one moment that the security of Asgard had required that little boy to say goodbye to his mother without knowing when she might return. It broke my heart.
But my husband would never need to feel alone again. Now that I was truly his equal, I would spend every moment of the rest of my existence showing Ull exactly how much he deserved to feel loved… and giving him the security of family he’d never been able to count on.
I would do absolutely anything for that god.
My body was filled with energy when I looked up at Ull. His jubilant smile mirrored my feeling that all was right in my world. His steady hand was firm on mine, the only thing that kept me from floating into the rafters of the chapel. We turned back to Odin, who repeated the last line of his song in clear verse. With that, we heard the words that made us one.
“I now pronounce you husband and wife. Ull, you may kiss your bride.”
My eyes met Ull’s in an elated dance. We’d done it! He swept me in his arms, his hands pressing my back tightly against him. I could feel the thud of his erratic heartbeat as his breath hitched. I reached up to touch his cheek, marveling at the wedding ring nestled perfectly on my left hand. Ull raised an eyebrow. He angled his head down and stared at me in a way that set the brigade of butterflies free in my belly. His eyes said get over here.
And they were inky blue.
Ull pulled me into his chest and kissed me so soundly I forgot the people around us. Forgot the sanctity of this holy ground. Forgot that my new in-laws were watching. The only thought in my mind was this man—my husband—kissing me, claiming me, and loving me absolutely beyond reason. It was the best feeling I’d ever had, and I wanted to hold onto it forever.
“Come, my love.” Ull pulled me toward the side door of the church. The ceremony was over and our guests had retreated to the hall for cocktails and hors d’oeuvres. We’d just signed our marriage certificate and it was time to join the party.
“Where are we going?”
“You shall see.” He tugged at my hand and opened the door. A blast of cold air hit me in the face. Ull took off his coat and wrapped it around my shoulders as
he led me to the courtyard. The roses and ivy were swathed in twinkle lights, and hurricane glasses held ivory pillar candles that shimmered in the twilight.
As I stared, I realized I could hear the gentle flicker of the lit candles. The soft popping of the burning wick hummed lightly in my ears.
Whoa. That was new.
I exhaled slowly as I looked around the courtyard. “What is all of this?”
“I thought I could put Inga’s exuberance to good use. I asked her to recreate Ýdalir for us.”
“That’s really sweet. But why?”
“So I could give you a romantic dance under the stars at our wedding.” He’d remembered.
“Ull.” My cheeks felt warm. This was too much.
“Mrs. Myhr.” He held out a hand. “May I have this dance?”
“Of course.” My voice was barely more than a whisper. Ull put his hand on my waist and gently guided me around the courtyard. I rested my head on his chest as we moved slowly in the square, not caring for once whether I tripped over my own feet. I knew Ull would catch me if I fell.
“Thank you, Kristia,” he murmured.
“For what?”
“For choosing me. For agreeing to take on everything that comes with being my wife. For giving up your own life to be a part of mine.” He pulled back to look at me. “For letting me see that I do not have to be alone anymore.”
I stretched my neck as high as I could, still a foot from his face even in heels. He met me halfway, bending to kiss me fiercely. I knew people were wondering where we were. I knew it was rude to keep our guests waiting. But I easily could have stood in that freezing courtyard kissing my brand-spankin’-new husband for the rest of the evening.
Ull pulled back to examine me closely.
“What?” I was suddenly self-conscious.
“I am just wondering how you feel. Did it hurt? You were so composed.”
“You mean when Odin changed me?” He didn’t know what Idunn had done this morning, and I wasn’t about to tell him now. I took a mental inventory. “I feel fine.”
“Are you certain?”
“Well I do feel a little warm, or I did when we were inside anyway. And kind of tingly, like all of my nerves are bouncing off each other. Like those awful computer diagrams of the atom from junior high science class, you know?” He probably didn’t know. The school in Asgard had bigger fish to fry than teaching its teenagers about the particle.
“And I’m a little lightheaded. But that’s probably not related to my changing.” I reached up to twirl a lock of his hair.
“So you really feel all right?”
“I feel much better than all right.” I stretched up to kiss him again. When I pulled back he was beaming.
“I thought I was meant to live alone. And today… I have more than I ever could have imagined.”
“You’re stuck with me now,” I teased. “No take-backs.”
“No take-backs,” he agreed solemnly. He fingered my curls. “Your hair.” He smiled. “It is glowing.”
“What?” I grabbed a strand in alarm. That couldn’t be good. How was I supposed to be incognito with glowing hair?
Ull laughed. “It is not actually glowing. But look at it.”
Staring at the strands around his finger I could see what he meant. My normally dark-blonde hair had a sort of luminescence to it. It wasn’t lit up like I’d feared, but it was definitely different. Almost like the midday sun was catching it and reflecting back a golden hue much brighter than my natural color, though the only lights out here were candle and twinkle.
Ull unwrapped the strand from his finger and held it up. “It is beautiful.”
“Come on.” I grabbed his hand, not wanting to be distracted by any other changes I hadn’t yet discovered. “Our guests are waiting.”
“Let them wait,” he growled, and twirled me around the courtyard. I was amazed that I stayed upright—he really was a good leader. Or was it possible that now that I was immortal, I really was less clumsy? I’d hoped for as much during my little procedure. Oh please, please. It would be so fantastic if I not only got the world’s most perfect husband today, but I also got just a teensy bit of grace. Just a little bit—I didn’t need to be greedy.
“Now this night only needs one more thing to make it perfect.” Ull curled his fingers into a fist. He opened his hand, and a small cloud hovered just above his palm.
“What the…”
He blew lightly on his palm and the cloud floated overhead. It grew as it moved, until half the courtyard was covered with a billowy white foam. Ull tapped his finger against the air and the cloud let loose with a light flurry of perfectly-formed snowflakes that dusted the cobblestones in a light layer of white. My head swiveled up, and I closed my eyes as the flakes brushed my cheeks. When I opened them, Ull looked down at me with a soft smile.
“I thought it was time I showed you what we can do.”
“We?” It took me a moment to register the words. I was too busy staring at my own personal Norse god framed by his homemade flurry. “You mean I can do that too?”
“I am not sure. You will be able to do it, yes. Whether you are able to control it at this moment, I do not know. Would you like to try?”
“Lord, yes.” My fingers twitched. I didn’t feel any differently, but I definitely wanted to give it a go. “What do I do?”
“Focus on the quadrant of your brain where you most felt the transformation. Was there a particular spot that felt it the strongest when Odin triggered the change?”
No. But there sure as Sherlock was a spot Idunn had made particularly sore. I assumed Ull was referring to that place.
“What do I tell that spot to do?” I avoided the question.
“Channel the weather pattern you wish to effect, and draw it to your fingertips.”
I pictured Ull’s snowstorm and visualized it traveling from the still-tender spot in my brain down my neck, through my arm and to my hands. My fingertips immediately felt chilled.
“Whoa.”
“Exactly. Now bring them into a fist, starting with your pinky, and open your hand.”
I did as I was told. But instead of a fluffy white cloud hovering obediently, a sharp icicle shot from my palm like a bolt of lightning. It wrapped itself around a tiny critter scampering up the tree, freezing it in place.
“Oh my God I killed a squirrel!” My hands fell to my side as my jaw fell open. I threw my head into Ull’s chest and moaned. “I am the worst goddess ever.”
Ull’s throaty chuckle made me look up.
“It’s not funny. I. Killed. A. Squirrel.”
“He is not dead, Kristia. Watch.” Ull pointed a finger and an orange stream floated toward the animal. It thawed the frost, and the squirrel continued his ascent up the tree as if nothing had happened.
“You can make heat too?”
“Of course. We need to be able to make corrections as needed. Sometimes we will not get a weather pattern right on the first try. This is Odin’s way of making sure we can control the elements—all the elements.” Ull touched the side of my neck. I could still feel the heat on his fingertips.
“That’s amazing.” I shivered. “But I’m not doing it again until we’re somewhere no woodland critters can be harmed. I can’t have squirrel blood on my conscience.”
“Fair enough.” Ull smiled. “We can practice on our honeymoon. No squirrels where we are going.”
“Is that a clue? Somewhere with no squirrels… are we going to a desert?”
“Guess all you want, Mrs. Myhr. I will never tell. But I will dance.” Ull pulled me close and began to move. My head settled comfortably against him as he led me in a small circle beneath the twinkling lights.
I didn’t know how long we’d been outside before I heard the impatient click of heels on the courtyard. We were swaying slowly, my cheek pressed firmly against Ull’s chest, when Inga cleared her throat.
“Are you two planning to come to your own party?”
Ull laug
hed.
“We were enjoying your creation.” He gestured with one hand to the lights, the other wrapped firmly around my waist.
“I see you added your own touch.” Inga stared at the cloud, still emitting gentle puffs of snow.
“Just to show Kristia what she can look forward to. Everything you set up was perfect.”
“Yes, yes. I’m a visionary. Well if you don’t come inside soon, Thor is going to eat all of your wedding cake. And there’s a lot of cake.” She tapped her foot.
“Inga, we said simple!”
“Four tiers is simple. What? I could have gone for seven like I saw in last month’s Modern Country Wedding magazine. That one required a special infrastructure. At least your cake stands on its own. Mostly.”
“What do you say, my love?” Ull looked at me. “Are you ready to join the party?”
“Well…” I gave him a wink. “I do like cake.”
Chapter Fifteen
OUR RECEPTION WAS A wonderful blending of our friends and family. We had traditional Norwegian and contemporary American food. The Asgardians particularly liked the mini-sliders; the small burgers disappeared as Thor guiltily licked his lips. My roommates loved the Norwegian waffles we served after our meal, and everyone enjoyed the enormous chocolate cake we cut, playfully smearing the icing. When it was time to end the celebration, my friends and I ducked into the small bride’s room at the end of the church. Ardis and Inga helped me change out of my grandmother’s gown and into the sassy, ivory going-away dress Victoria had designed. It was a sleeveless lace number that hugged my curves and ended three inches above my knees. This dress had a higher neckline than my wedding gown, but dipped in a low V in the back. And its lace formed a bolder pattern, with beads generously embroidered throughout the needlework. As I stepped into the sky-high heels Victoria had chosen, I reached reflexively for something to hold before I realized I could balance on my own. Victoria zipped me into the dress and fastened the pearl clasp as she gave me one last hug.