| Club Valhalla | Prev - ToC |
The crowds along the boardwalk had ceased their aimless milling and now gathered in excited clumps around the large lagoon waiting for the early show to begin. It was the one part of Las Vegas that was more thrilling by daylight than the gaudy neon of night.
Linden's husband of three hours was looking handsome in his white jeans and polo shirt as he stood arguing with Rolf about the sailability of the two ships anchored in the mock Caribbean port. Tranum staunchly maintained that neither ship was sea-worthy, and therefore could not possibly have sailed to the new world without magical intervention, though the pirate vessel was definitely the better of the two boats; it at least had the proper type of figure carved on the prow.
Rolf kept grinning like a jack-o-lantern and shaking his head, but he refrained from actually laying any bets with his new brother-in-law about who was headed for Davey Jones' locker at 6:10 that afternoon-- after the inferior ship had blown a hole in her side. It probably didn't matter to Rolf that Her Majesty's vessel would shortly follow the pirate ship into the deep; to the male mentality, Linden figured that he who sinks last wins the game.
Linden didn't bother to hide her own anticipatory smile. She might not have the heart to tell her Viking that pirate ship he favored was scheduled to lose the up-coming battle-- and that it did so several times a day-- but she certainly enjoyed watching Tranum take in the spectacle.
She supposed that she would have to explain all about the skull and cross-bones gang and the traditional triumph of British virtue over the forces of lawless disorder; but later. It would be a difficult concept for her Viking to grasp since last he heard, the British were pretty lousy sailors and he would most likely resist the idea of them ruling the seas; until she had a book in hand to prove her point, she didn't want to miss any part of the show or his reaction to it by engaging in fruitless argument.
A ripple of thrilled voices moved through the crowd as everyone strained to see the British vessel that was finally moving into the harbor. Linden didn't bother watching the mechanical ship forging through the turgid water, she was having too much fun observing Tranum's stunned reaction to a boat that was moving without benefit of wind, unfurled sails or oars.
His first act was to snag her wrist in the usual manacle and draw her closer to his side. Linden didn't mind.
She could tell that the frock coated captain who stood under the main mast wielding an entirely unnecessary spy- glass was the cynosure of her love's attention. Linden had to admit that he did make a rather dashing figure if one went for men in uniforms.
"It is not magic sped?" Tranum asked Rolf, his gaze unblinking and wary.
Only Linden sensed his great unease. That was to be expected; she and Tranum had more or less shared the same nervous system since the night they confronted Death's greedy goddess. Their mutual psychic twitchings gave them a new, if disquieting, bond. She gave his hand a comforting squeeze while Rolf explained.
"No. There is a rail under the water-- remember the train I showed you? This ship is powered like a car. Or maybe a light bulb. We can ride in one like it over at the pyramid, if you'd like."
Tranum nodded in assent but didn't look away from the British ship's captain until a loud cry from the pirate's crows-nest alerted the scurvy knaves that British navy approached. Rum and wenches were tossed noisily aside as the Caribbean rats scuttled for the rigging with a great deal of dramatic shouting.
Tranum tensed his muscles as back and forth the insults went between the rival captains. His silvered head swiveled as he followed the verbal volley between the crews of the two vessels and he tried to understand their English invectives.
A cannon roared suddenly across the lagoon, and then there was an explosion from the pirate vessel as the barrels of gun-powder ignited in a blaze of realistic light and heat that half scorched the gaping audience.
Linden barely had time to feel the heat blast before she found herself flung to the ground with Tranum's large body shielding her from any imagined danger. The sheer white gauze of her just purchased wedding dress was bunched under her hips and collecting splinters along with her bare shoulder blades as he ground her into the wood.
Fortunately, the enthralled crowd was too busy watching the naval battle to notice her embarrassed gasping and the new runs she could feel laddering her stockings.
"It's okay, Tranum," Rolf said, kneeling beside them. He eyed his sister's face with a mixture of amusement and concern. "It is just acting-- the telling of a saga. No one out here will really get hurt."
Tranum looked suspiciously at the rest of the crowd that had remained standing. "We are just to witness the battle?"
"Right, we just watch. Uh, Tranum? I don't think Linden can breathe with you lying on top of her. She's turning red."
Tranum rolled over and let Linden up-- reluctantly. When she was upright and again able to draw breath, he tucked her protectively under his arm and returned to the railing to see what had befallen the pirate vessel.
"It did not feel like a telling, Rolf. That lightning was hot."
"Yes." Rolf grinned. "It helps the people that don't have an imagination to understand about the reality of battle." Tranum grunted and then turned to watch as the British ship began its controled descent into the deep.
"Why does it sink, Rolf?"
"Because it is more exciting this way," he answered without thought, missing Tranum's vexed frown.
"But what of the track? Is it also sinking? Why does that man stand on the deck? Does he not know that his ship has floundered?"
"Of course he knows," Rolf answered cheerfully.
"It's a tradition," Linden explained once she was able to breathe again and had her skirt more or less back in place. The stockings were a write-off. "A captain, the leader, always goes down with the ship-- That is, if he is one of the good guys."
"That is stupid," Tranum objected. "He is very near shore. He need not drown himself for our amusement. Odin won't have him if he doesn't fight. And those other men are escaping."
"Well, he wants to go down with his ship. He's disgraced and any way, he'll be back in a minute. It's just--" The rest of her explanation was lost, as Tranum dropped his arm, stepped up to the railing and vaulted over the side.
"Oh my gods and goddesses!" Linden turned to her brother and shouted above the excited babble as Tranum swam quickly for the Navy ship. "Rolf, do something!"
"Like what?" Rolf started laughing. "It looks like today is the captain's lucky day. He's going to get rescued." Instantly, there were police and hotel security guards pushing through the excited hotel guests as they raced for the docks.
"I guess it's a good thing we didn't book a room here, huh?" Rolf observed.
"Officer!" Linden grabbed the nearest uniform by the arm and swung him around. "I'm sorry! Our friend is from Denmark. He doesn't speak English--"
"Excuse me, ma'am." The guard tried to pull away, but only succeeded in dragging Linden with him as he rushed for the entrance.
"Wait!" Linden raised her voice another decibel level and pointed at the lagoon. "My husband doesn't understand! He can't speak English! He thought that the actor was drowning." The guard finally realized that she wasn't just a bystander making idle conversation. He looked sceptical of her words, but at least he was listening.
"That's your husband, ma'am?"
"Yes! We just got married today!... He's from Denmark!" she explained again. Rolf joined them.
"Let's go. Tranum's dragged the captain over to the far side of the lagoon." He switched to Danish. "I don't think anyone is hurt yet, but the pirate captain is laughing his head off and I'm worried that Tranum might clout him."
The three of them, guard in the lead, pushed through the crowd and hurried for the hotel's main entrance where Tranum and the very wet actor were sitting on an over-turned skiff and sharing a chuckle with the rest of the two crews. Tranum had apparently figured out the problem on his own and decided that it was a cause for amusement rather than head- splitting.
She and Rolf were quickly joined by Edred, Faust, Llewellyn and Borg who had been watching the spectacle from the other end of the pier and capturing the moment on video tape.
Before Linden could begin her explanations, Petr and Tabby staggered through the line of guards bring the numbers up to equal levels on both sides of the confrontation. Everyone from Club Valhalla was looking very pugnacious and protective as they glared at the Las Vegas policemen and the hotel's annoyed private guards.
"Okay," one of the older cops demanded. "Somebody want to explain what happened here?"
Linden looked quickly at her assorted belligerent friends and then sighed. She turned to the annoyed officer.
"He's from Denmark," she began.
They were snuggled up in the king-size bed-- an invention which Tranum greatly approved of-- alone for the first time that day in their comfortably air-conditioned room, replete from an enormous dinner consumed after the early presentation of Andrew Lloyd Webber's skating extravaganza and a swim in the indoor heated pool.
Linden sighed contentedly and felt her limbs beginning to relax into the perfect state for either sleep or making love; she hadn't decided which just yet. It was her wedding night, after all, but it had also been an unbelievably long and traumatizing day.
She smiled up at her husband of-- twelve whole hours!-- and rolled onto her side so she could face him fully.
"Linden." Tranum looked at her consideringly and Linden blinked once at the seriousness of his tone. It didn't go well with the casual sprawl that took up more than half of the generous bed. "When are we going to have a marriage feast?"
She grinned, thinking that he was kidding. "I think we just had one. I feel like a stuffed goose."
Tranum stared back, no hint of a smile under his mustache. Thinking that he had missed her reference, she tried to explain about the custom of force-fattening a goose before Christmas.
"I am speaking of the feast Tabby was telling us about at dinner," Tranum interrupted.
"A reception?" Linden blinked again in surprise. Tabby had been suggesting and wheedling for one during most of the meal, but Tranum hadn't said anything at the time to indicate that he wanted to have a party, so Linden had ignored her.
"Yes. Is it not appropriate?" he asked. "Or do you not wish one because we had a civil ceremony."
"No." Linden smiled reassuringly and laid a hand on his upper arm. "We can have one if you want. Would that make you feel more married?" she asked whimsically.
Her Viking frowned. "Do you not feel married, Linden?" he asked seriously. "Is this why you do not plan a celebration for us?"
Linden blinked, thinking about his question. "I haven't planned a celebration because I have been too busy," she finally answered. "Many people need an entire year to plan a reception, you know."
"Do you need an entire year?" "No," she admitted.
"Do you resist then because you do not feel enough married?" "I'm not resisting," she answered in aggravation, flopping onto her back to stare at the ceiling. "And I'm as married as I'm going to get."
"Then you feel married and wish to have a feast?" he pursued doggedly.
"If it would make you happy."
"Danish, Linden. Though, I understand your English better now." Tranum turned her chin back in his direction. "Your answer pleases me not."
"Why doesn't my answer please you?" she asked, feeling genuinely baffled and a little defensive.
"Because I think that this civil ceremony has not made you feel like a true wife."
"Do you feel like true husband?" Linden rolled back onto her side and sat up a little so that she could see Tranum's face.
"Yes." He hesitated. "But I felt this before the wedding. This ceremony had nothing to do with the way I feel. You are mine, pretty Linden, with or without this legal paper with Leif Kirstensen's name. And nothing will change that."
"And I feel the same way. This ceremony was just to... make it legal for our children and emigration... and taxes." Linden flinched at the explanation. It was as bleak and unromantic as they come. She didn't add that planning a reception seemed like an awful lot of work when they had settled for a quickie wedding in fantasyland to her cousin Leif.
"But what is good for the taxes is not necessarily good for the spirit," Tranum pointed out with great perceptivity. "I think you found no comfort in this marriage pact."
"Well..." Linden looked up at the ceiling for guidance and encountered a florid mural of leering cherubs that would have horrified Rafael. Rolf had insisted that they get a bridal suite.
The truth was, she thought, with a sigh, she didn't feel all that married. And neither did Tranum, apparently, or he wouldn't keep harping on this particular theme. The question was, what should she do about it?
"So," she began slowly, watching for his reactions. "You think a reception would help us feel more married."
Tranum opened his mouth, probably to object to the us, since it wasn't macho for a Viking to admit to any feelings, but then looked thoughtful.
"Perhaps. Linden?" He hesitated. That was rare enough to give Linden pause. Obviously he was thinking of something that was of great import and it made him nervous.
"Yes, Tranum? Please say whatever is on your mind."
"What I would truly wish for..."
"Yes?" She could feel her muscles tightening and ordered herself to relax. How bad could his request be? "I would like for Rolf to marry us again. This time with my true name."
"Rolf?" she asked with momentary blankness. "You mean in a Norse ceremony?"
"Yes." Tranum eyes were glued to her face. "A real Viking wedding. One that Selig and Odin would understand."
The Pope had no more faithful a following among his devoted flock than Odin had in his Viking, she thought with a small sigh.
Linden considered carefully. It was important to her that Tranum feel married. She doubted that a Norse ceremony would comfort her, even if they used Tranum's true name-- But then, it wasn't likely that anything would. What she needed from her Viking to feel truly married was not a religious ceremony, but rather the words of devotion and love that he would probably never think to utter.
But failing a declaration of deathless devotion, would not a promise of fidelity framed within the context of his religion be the second best offering? And could she really deny him something that was so important to him?
Linden pulled her gaze from the pink-faced Cupids over- head and turned to her love. Tranum was still sprawled on his back, but he was not at all relaxed in his posture. In fact, Linden had the suspicion that if she did not answer his question correctly she would end up flat on the satin covered mattress with a large hand planted in the middle of her chest while Tranum reasoned with her. The thought brought a small smile.
"You're willing to risk this, even after what happened at the last ceremony Rolf had?"
Her cat began to frown. His muscles bunched as he prepared to rise. Linden laid a forestalling hand on his naked chest and pressed lightly, hoping that he would obey her signal. Brute force would not keep him on his back if Tranum decided that he needed to sit up, but he usually gave in when she asked him to in order to keep their play fair.
"I'm teasing you, Love," she said gently.
"You are playing again?" he asked in relief, relaxing under her fingers. "This is no matter for merriment, Linden," he scolded, but without any heat.
"Of course it is." Her fingers went from his chest to his lips. "We are talking about a celebration. That should be merry."
Tranum mouth stopped frowning. A large hand reached out for her, pulling her down to his side. He tucked her forcibly under his arm as if he thought that would put an end to her teasing.
"So, it is decided. We shall be married by Rolf and then have a marriage feast with all your friends." Linden knew that he was not asking her. She hadn't heard a question mark anywhere in those two sentences. "Well, I don't know," she began, unable to resist a last tug at her cat's whiskers. "My friends are fine, but which of Odin's friends do we have to ask to the wedding? I mean, the last time we called on Thor we ended up with a bad storm and a dead goddess. Maybe we shouldn't invite him this time."
Tranum leaned up on his left elbow to stare down at her. After a close inspection, he decided that she was still playing and allowed himself a small smile.
"We shall invite Odin and Thor. Also Lady Freya and the goddess Var. She is the one who listens to man's vows."
"Var?"
"Yes." Her cat was staring at her intently. He obviously hadn't finished thinking yet. "Linden, would it give you comfort to have a Christian priest marry us?"
Linden blinked at her lover's offer. Given his feelings for the Christian church, it was an unbelievably generous suggestion. It was almost-- almost-- as wonderful as a declaration of love.
Linden smiled brilliantly at her husband.
"Thank-you, Love," she answered, again using the revealing endearment without thought. "But it is not necessary. Marriage by a priest will not make me feel any more lov-- married. But thank-you so much for offering. That is really sweet of you."
Her Viking was beginning to frown again, so she leaned up hurriedly to give him a kiss. Her fingers twined through his silvery hair as she pulled him closer.
"There is a tradition in America," she murmured against his lips. "A bride and her husband are suppose to make love on their wedding night. It's bad luck if they don't," she lied without compunction.
"Indeed?" Tranum's mustache caused another kind of smile as it tickled her lips. "Then this must be avoided-- whatever the sacrifice required of me."
Linden drew back two inches to focus on her Viking's laughing green eyes.
"Now who's playing?" she demanded, unable to hide the grin that went with her accusation. Her lover's smile had all the radiance of a summer's dawn in the desert and she could not resist its warmth.
"Marriage is a time of merriment, you said," he reminded her. "I am merely making merry while we bring ourselves good luck."
A hard hand slip around her neck, pulling her back into gentle contact with his mouth. Linden sighed contentedly as she closed her eyes on the leering cherubs. Everything was going to be fine, she was just sure of it.
The oak grove behind the inn was bathed in the sweet light of a golden, fall afternoon, for the fog that had threatened most of the morning had finally burned away under the persistent autumnal sun.
Linden and Tranum were once again dressed alike in robes of white, but on this occasion Tranum was wearing both Leg- Biter and his Thor amulet.
The bride felt that she looked more like a nun in her light woolen veil that reached half way down her back than the usual fairy princess that the bride tried to be, but didn't really care. She was doing this second wedding for one reason and one reason only; to please Tranum. The dress didn't matter. Nor did the lack of flowers or the new, pagan Freya rune hanging on the chain from her neck, the one set with a magical Brisingamen gem.
In the past week, Linden had discovered that only one thing truly mattered to her; and it wasn't the physical trappings that went with the wedding vows. If this rite made Tranum happy, she would gladly wear a hair shirt and bubble wrap while she married him.
Behind where they stood with heads bowed in pre-wedding meditation, Linden could hear Tabby, Petr, Edred and the three professors stomping over the fallen twigs and acorns as they took their places in the sacred circle. She wondered if Trina and Patrick had arrived yet, and decided that they must have. There was too much noise around them for just the inn's usual inhabitants. In fact, her guests sounded like a heard of elephants marching through the savannah and ripping out the trees and shrubs as they crowded into the tiny grove. It took great discipline to not sneak a peek over her shoulder and see what people were doing that made so much noise.
Once again, Rolf looked very handsome and official as the Godi, though he was also decked out in a number of amulets and daggers that had been missing from the first ceremony. Linden wondered briefly at the sudden streak of theatricality, but then shrugged the thought away. Maybe weddings were different from seasonal festival.
When Rolf was ready he looked sternly at the small congregation and called for silence. He further surprised Linden by speaking the first part of the vows in both English and Danish. It was sweet of him to think of Trina and Patrick's lack of Danish. She would thank him later.
We are gathered here in this sacred grove
To witness the joining of two who would be married.
Come foreward, my people,
And bear witness to this joyous event.
Then, in Danish only:
We call upon Allfather Odin, Freya of love.
And good friend Thor
To witness the words that are spoken here.
In the Old way do we also call
The Goddess Var, who,
As told in legend,
Hears the sacred vows of men and women.
Rolf laid a fist over his heart and counted off five heartbeats.
Bring forth Thor's hammer
To consecrate the bride and groom.
Lay this symbol of the Gods
In the Lap of each,
That they may be wed together by the hand of Var.
Rolf took the ornamental hammer offered by Petr and turned to Tranum with a wide smile:
Kneel and receive the blessing.
Before the high Gods and our people
Art thou blessed anew.
The Godi turned to his sister and repeated his instruction and blessing. He smiled benevolently at the congregation as he passed the hammer over Linden's head. With an uplifted hand that Moses might have used to part the sea, Rolf bade his sister and brother-in-law rise and then he went on in his mix of English and Danish: Tranum, if you truly desire
To marry Linden,
I ask thee to give, with all thy heart,
The blade which symbolized thy strength. Swear by thy weapon to always be at her service.
Tranum removed Leg-Biter from the sheath and turned to Linden sword in hand. Behind her, she was dimly aware of a gasp and murmur but couldn't imagine who was shocked at seeing Leg-Biter. By now the weapon was old news. Nor did she spend long pondering the anomaly after her Viking looked down into her eyes and began his vow in accented English.
My most beloved, beautiful Linden,
Accept the oath of love which I offer thee.
Linden's heart began to pound. Did he mean what he was saying to her? Was it only the form of the ceremony, or had he chosen this as the appropriate time and place to tell her of his love?
I vow this weapon, as I vow my soul,
To be ever at they service.
Like this blade my heart is strong,
Like this steel my love will endure.
Accept it, my chosen one,
For all which is mine will now be thine.
Linden accepted Leg-Biter with a hand that trembled. As Rolf had instructed, she touched the hilt to her forehead for the count of three heartbeats. It was perhaps a little quicker than the normal beat, but her heart had gone suddenly crazy as it tried to escape the confines of her chest.
Linden handed Leg-Biter back to Tranum, making sure that she did not drop the heavy sword, and said the words that Rolf had given her; words that meant a great deal more now that she had heard the vow that preceded them. Unable to resist, she added a small phrase to the beginning and end of the vow.
My most beloved, brave Tranum,
I accept this oath, sworn on thy weapon.
Thou knowest what is my heart
As I know now what is in thine.
Thank you, beloved.
Tranum's gaze quickened as he heard her added words and she could see his hands clench as he resisted the urge to pull her into his arms.
Rolf had to clear his throat to regain the bridal couple's attention, as Tranum and Linden were content to spend the next several moments gazing into each other's eyes.
It was a touching moment, but Rolf was a showman and he knew that the moment would be lost on his audience if he didn't hasten things along. He switched back to Danish.
Linden, if you truly desire to marry Tranum,
I ask thee to give, with all thy heart,
The jewel of beauty which thou werest,
In symbol of our Lady's great magic and power.
Swear thy jewel to him, always to be at his service.
As Linden removed the heavy chain from her neck, she was aware of Professor Faust's carrying whisper repeating her vows in English. She had again a momentary urge to turn about and see what their guests were doing, but it died when she looked up into her Viking's anxious green gaze. He was waiting with a barely restrained impatience to hear her own vows. She extended her pendant with a loving smile.
My most beloved Tranum,
Accept the oath of love which I offer thee.
I vow this jewel, as I vow my soul,
Ever to be at thy side and service.
Like its beauty will my heart be strong,
Like its value my love will endure.
Accept it, my chosen one,
For all which is mine will now be thine.
Tranum took the rune and touched it to his forehead for the count of three heartbeats, then carefully hung the pendant around her throat, pulling her veil and hair back into place. His cat eyes were glowing softly as he spoke again.
My most beloved Linden,
I accept this oath, sworn on thy jewel.
Thou knowest now what is in my heart
As I know what is in thine.
I also thank thee, beloved.
Rolf again cleared his throat and spoke English in a clear, and unnecessarily loud voice that startled Linden because it would have reached all the way to the jetty on a windy day and she could see no need for the shouting:
Thou who are to be husband and wife,
Listen to what I say now.
Whatever each of thee may do in future years,
Wherever thou may wander in this land
Or on these seas,
Know full well that thou shalt do all
For the good of our people,
For thy family, thy children and thy kin,
And to be worthy each of the other.
Tabby brought a second pillow to the altar and offered it to the Godi. She was also dressed in a white tunic and acting as the closest thing to a bridesmaid that the ceremony had. Linden hoped that she was satisfied with the limited roll; Tabby had originally wanted to wear something in a pastel organdy with a hoop-skirt and a lot of ruffles, and was not happy with the simple costumes they had chosen.
Rolf graciously accepted the offering and then turned to Linden with the ornamental key. He used Danish this time.
If thou would be mistress of this household
And all therein, honored for thy wisdom
In the councils of our people,
And an equal partner to thy husband,
I bid thee take this key as a symbol of a new life. Linden plucked the key from Rolf's grasp and fastened the large charm to the special clasp on her chain next to the Freya rune. In the old days, a heavier chain would have been worn around her waist as she became wife and chatelaine, but she had not cared for the symbolism of links on her body and Rolf had obligingly changed the ceremony to suit her.
As the keys are given to thee,
Thou dost take over thy new household.
Be wise in all thou doest.
Linden and Rolf shared a brief ironical glance before he turned to Tranum. This advice that went with the key was part of the ceremony, but they both knew that the admonition should have been sent the other way around. Rolf went on again in English. With this rite thou gainest a treasure of great value,
Care for her, Tranum, and protect her always.
For there is none who is her equal.
Rolf lifted his arms heavenward and his long sleeves fell back from his muscular arms.
Above thee is the sun,
Below thee is the earth.
Remember always, like the sun should thy love be constant,
Like the earth should thy love be firm.
Possess one another, yet be understanding.
Have patience like the sun and earth,
For the many storms of life shall come and go.
And greatest of all, be free always in giving your love to each other.
He paused for the count of five heartbeats and then turned to his sister.
Linden, doest thou desire to have this man
As thy husband, forsaking all others?
"I do," she answered firmly, suddenly wanting the ceremony to be over so that she could speak freely to her husband. It was high time he told her straight out that he was in love with her!
Rolf asked the same questions of Tranum and received the same reply, if somewhat more emphatically than Linden had answered. Tranum also wanted the ceremony to be over so that he could steal a few moments alone with his bride, and he didn't bother to hide his growing impatience with Rolf's theatrical pauses.
Then, in symbol of thy joining, one with the other,
Seal this troth with a kiss.
Tranum needed no further bidding. As Linden melted into his arms, she heard her brother go on politely with the remainder of the ceremony.
Before those gathered here and before the high Gods,
Thou art man and wife, and henceforth shall be as one.
Rolf poured mead into two drinking horns and cleared his throat pointedly. With great reluctance, Tranum released his bride and accepted the horn. Linden hands were less than firm as she took her own portion of mead and gulped it hurriedly.
In the name of out people, and our Gods,
May thou knowest only the best of fortune,
And thy lives be one of joy and prosperity.
We drink to thy honor.
Rolf took a generous swallow from his own horn and then set it on the altar. Linden and Tranum did the same after sampling the sweet brew from each other's cups.
This rite is ended.
May our Gods be with us always!
Tranum took Linden's hand and turned her to face their guests. Linden looked out in puzzlement at the bewildering array of people before her. One strange man was actually wielding a giant video camera with a large microphone attached to a boom. Beyond him were a sea of unknown faces.
And beyond the sea was a white van with a large logo painted on the side. She could see only the First to letters of the sign, but didn't need to read beyond them; the K-T-E were a dead give away.
"Rolf!" She whirled around to face her brother. "How could you!"
"Danish, Linden," Tranum commanded also turning to face his brother-in-law. He was smiling.
"Now, Linden," Rolf began with a wide smile at the camera. "You believe in supporting public television. And this documentary is great publicity! Think about it. We could become the alternative wedding chapel of California. People will flock here to be married."
"Rolf." Linden made an effort to lower her voice and continued to speak in Danish. Behind her, the unknown guests were beginning to mill around on the grassy knoll where the picnic tables were laid out with an autumnal feast. "People will not flock here for Norse weddings. People-- normal people-- don't want to be married in the Odin Way."
"I don't know about that. It's a beautiful ceremony. That's why I had Faust translate. Anyway, we can do whatever ceremony they like," Rolf assured her breezily. "I can do a more traditional Wicca, Buddhist, Cherokee--"
"No, you can not," Linden informed her brother. "This was all well and good for us--"
"Did you not like the ceremony?" Tranum asked. "I thought it would please you."
"Yes, love, I did like it-- very much. It was beautiful," she reassured her husband before turning to finish lecturing her errant brother. "But that is neither here nor there. Rolf, there are laws in California, aren't there? You have to be an ordained minister, licensed by the state--"
"Which I am," he assured her.
That stopped Linden for a full two seconds.
"You are?"
"Sure. I figured that I might want to get into this as a side-line, so I registered myself last week."
"As a Norse priest?" she asked incredulously. Then: "Registered how? Rolf, have you been hacking again?"
"Nah!" Rolf grinned, ignoring her last question. "Norse would be too limiting. I'm an inter-denominational minister," he announced in clear English, before descending on the video crew from the local Public Television station. "And I can do ceremonies in Spanish, French and Latin, too."
Linden would have followed, but her husband had taken a hold of her wrist and was urging her to the far side of the grove where they could be alone.
"Where are we going?" Linden asked, as he dragged her through the brake in the trees behind the plain altar.
"I desire a moment of privacy before you begin fighting with your brother," he told her with one of his blinding smiles. "We have a Norse tradition that you must kiss bride often on her wedding day or it will bring bad luck."
"Oh, well, in that case, I can always strangle Rolf later." She slipped her arms around his waist and smiled up at him.
"I am delighted that you are again in a mood to play, my Valkyrie," he told her.
"Who's playing?" she demanded, but there was laughter in her voice.
"You are, beloved." Tranum stepped deeper into the thick oak screen and pulled her tightly against him. He said with a touch of regret: "I fear it will be some time before we are truly alone again."
"Probably. Just remember that this whole thing was your idea," she scolded. Then, hearing her words, she left off the teasing banter. "And I'm so glad you did think of it, Tranum. Perhaps it was foolish, but I badly needed to hear the words from you... That you loved me."
"And I, too, needed to say and hear the words," he confessed. "We do not often speak of love, even to our wives, but I wished to tell you of my feelings." Linden curled her fingers into Tranum's silvered hair and smiled.
"In America, we often speak about love," she told him gently. "Maybe, in time, you will feel more comfortable saying these words to me without a ceremony. They sound great in English, too." Her smile widened. "You can practice tonight when we go to bed. That will be your English lesson for the day. I'll help you with the letters so you can write it for me, too."
Tranum smiled down at his playful Valkyrie and then pulled her back into his arms. Perhaps Linden was right. American was a different place and he thought that he might take great pleasure in saying these words often.
"I love you, Linden," he whispered into her hair.
"And I love you," she whispered back into the microphone hat had found its way to the back of the sacred grove.
Fortunately for Rolf, neither one of them noticed the video recorder
that was immortalizing their words on video tape.
Club Valhalla
Copyrighted (c) 2002 Melanie Jackson
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