Olaug stepped out of the chapel, so beautiful in a pale blue bunad. She led me a few feet away from the door and straightened my train, then she kissed my cheeks and handed me a bouquet of ivory roses wrapped in lace.
“They’re from Ýdalir,” she said. “I picked them early this morning.”
“They’re perfect.” I inhaled their sweet scent. “Thank you, Olaug, this is so thoughtful.” I looked at her closely. “Are you feeling all right?”
“Better than you. I didn’t have my brain probed by Idunn.”
“You know what I mean.” In the drama of the morning I’d forgotten to ask her about my chat with the elf. “You’re not really sick, are you?”
“Oh for goodness sake, I am just fine.” Olaug shook her head. “Why would you ask Ull to call in the middle of the night? Even wrinkly goddesses need their beauty sleep.”
“I’m sorry, really. I was just so worried about you. You are my family, too, now, you know.”
“I know, my dear. And you are mine. But gods cannot fall ill. We went over this.”
“I remember.” I sighed. “That elf guy is really convincing. I was scared for you.”
“Well, you need not be. I promise you, I am the picture of health. And I always will be, so long as Idunn provides her apples and so long as my darling granddaughter-to-be does not have her messenger wake me in the middle of the night.” She took my hand gently.
“Thank you.” I squeezed her back with a smile.
“Are you ready, Kristia?”
“Yes,” I answered unhesitatingly. I was ready to be united forever with Ull Myhr. The rest I would take as it came.
Olaug smiled happily. “I always hoped this day would come. My boy does not have to be alone anymore.” She patted my cheek fondly, and I felt a lump rising in my throat. She loved Ull so much.
“I’ll take good care of him, Olaug.”
“I know you will. Come. It is time.” She led me to the door and tilted her head. I nodded, and she kissed my cheek before she walked inside to take her seat.
I clutched my bouquet and waited for the music.
I ENTERED THE CHURCH
alone, ignoring the elaborate garlands strung from the pews—Inga clearly hadn’t stopped at the bagpiper—and the people who turned to stare at me. The only thing my eyes saw at the end of the short aisle was Ull, exquisite in his black bunad. Pewter buttons at the calves held red tassels, and he wore an intricate red vest topped with a coat made so beautifully it had to have been crafted by Olaug. His normally disheveled hair was styled with uncharacteristic neatness atop his head, and his brilliant white teeth peeked out from upturned lips. But it was his eyes that captivated me, drawing me forward although my legs felt too weak to walk. So pristine in clarity, bluer than any clear sky, they were crinkled from his joyful smile. I wanted to run to his side.
When I finally reached the front of the church, Ull held out his hand. As I lay my palm on his, the enthusiastic butterflies fell still. Ull’s touch sent warmth through my body, filling me with a calm I hadn’t felt all day. It pulsed through me, the absolute knowledge that this was where I was meant to be. There was no question everything we’d been through had been worth it. Fending off Elf Man; standing up to Thor; learning about Ragnarok; falling in love, despite Odin’s rules; fighting for this love, even when the universe was stacked dead against us… every moment of heartache had been worth it. Because now I stood at an altar with the god I knew I’d love from now until the ends of all the worlds. And I was about to become his wife.
I looked at my love, my own eyes echoing his happiness, and squeezed his hand in anticipation. In a matter of minutes, Ull would be my husband. We’d be bound together, our souls entwined for as long as both should live. Which, considering the whole immortal thing, was a very, very long time. And I wasn’t just tying myself to Ull—I was getting Olaug, Inga, Gunnar, Sif and Thor, too. I was minutes away from being a part of a real family.
It was what I’d wanted my entire life.
“You look beautiful, Kristia.” Ull leaned down to whisper in my ear. “That dress is just… wow.”
I beamed up at him and touched the tear at the corner of his eye. “I love you so much.”
“I love you, too,” he whispered back.
Odin stood before us, enormous in stature, made all the more impressive by his exquisite golden robes. I would have been intimidated if I wasn’t so focused on Ull’s chiseled cheekbones; the masculine line of his jaw; the feel of his skin on my hands as we prepared to pledge our lives to one another. It was overwhelming, in the best possible way.
“Marriage is an age-old contract. Once merely a legal means to an end, today it signifies so much more. Years ago, people did not marry for love. They married for strength—to strengthen family lines through the procreation of children; to strengthen providences through the alliance of families; to strengthen spirits, gaining someone to live for. The notion of a romantic love was once as foreign as I am sure my dress appears to some of you.” Odin gestured to his robes and the congregation chuckled. I snuck a look at my flatmates as they nodded. Victoria probably had heaps to say about a man dressed in a shapeless gown.
“And for a long time, I thought the notion of a romantic love would prove too foreign for my grandson. I thought the notion of
any
love was more than he could process. He is as stubborn as he is intense, and for a number of years I had resigned myself to watching him live out his days alone.
“But then you came along.” Odin’s gaze shifted to me. “You, the most foreign thing to us all, opened his eyes to a future he could not see. You opened his heart to a dream he abandoned long ago. And you opened his spirit in a way none of us dared hope for.
“In marrying Ull, you give him a life he might have imagined, but never once expected. And in doing so, you give me the greatest blessing I could ask for: my grandson’s happiness. I am, eternally, in your debt.”
Odin reached for my hand and pressed it gently against his lips. “Thank you, Kristia,” he whispered, before straightening his back and adjusting his sleeves. From the heat on my face, my blush must have crept all the way to the roots of my hair. But Ull just gave me his rakish half-smile, looking at me with eyes the color of a cloudless sky, and making me feel like we were the only two people in the room. My embarrassment faded with the squeeze of his hand, and I steadied myself as Odin asked us to repeat after him.
“I, Kristia, take thee, Ull, for my lawfully wedded husband.” My voice cracked over the last word.
Husband
. I drew a shaky breath and pushed forward. If I stopped to think about how overwhelmingly happy I was, I’d never make it through the rest of the ceremony. “To have and to hold, from this day forward. For better. For worse.” The lump in my throat rose. “For richer. For poorer.” My eyes filled with moisture. “In sickness and in health. As long as we both shall live.”
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
.