“Time is a wish for the foolish,” Grandfather said, “and the one thing there is never enough of.”
I knew how to fight, but love? The Barcas didn’t teach their warriors how to do that. He turned and walked out, leaving me to deal with the letter’s contents.
Nanna
Gladsheim—the Asgard Gods’ Meeting Hall
The news traveled swiftly, and before I could adjust to the missive, I found myself quickly dressed in a long, flowing blue robe with intricate indigo knot work, while ladies-in-waiting, who’d snuck a peek at me, rapidly adorned my long hair with flowers and a silver crown embellished with gems. Conversation churned around me, but I couldn’t speak.
Today I was to marry.
I balled up my fist, and my nails bit into my palm. My reflection was not one I wished to see. My chest tightened as when word of a siege came from the walls to the city’s center, and it was time to do battle. It felt like death’s calling. Without a sword to protect me, I could only sacrifice myself for the greater good, and hope that by sealing this fate, I could indeed help my people.
In my mind’s eye, I thought of my mother, and wished only to hear her voice. When I was afraid, as a child, she would bend down on her knee, look me in the eye, and say, “No matter what, all will be well. Just believe.”
I huffed, sweat beaded on my brow, and my heart thundered like a team of galloping horses. I swayed slightly on my feet.
“Just believe, Nanna, just believe,” I said, and moved away toward the grand hall, where Baldr stood, waiting.
My breath hitched seeing him. He practically shone like a bright light.
“I know that you are there, but your light is blinding,” I said. A smile crossed my lips, and a bit of misplaced joy sprinkled upon me. The strangeness of ambivalence goaded me on. I neither knew what I wanted, nor if it was him.
He placed my hand in his. “It is only because I am exceedingly happy.”
I gulped, then nodded.
“You need not be nervous. This is to keep you safe.”
“Safe, from what?”
“I know this is overwhelming, and if we had time to make things happen naturally before sharing vows, I would have.”
“Why?” The more he spoke, the more I realized that this situation was akin to a swine painted to look pretty. I thought I had more time to figure this all out before a ceremony would begin. It was the only thought that circled. “I’m not sure I can go through with this.”
“I ask you to trust me, Nanna. I am honorable in my intent.”
His words rang true. From all of our time together in the realm of dreams, he’d never done anything to hurt me. In fact, our time together had been magical. I remembered walks along the shore, and laughter, much laughter.
“I trust you,” I said, and despite my angst, I took his hand.
With all of the primping and prepping done, we proceeded back to Odin’s hall, where the High Council met. All the thirteen gods and goddesses were present, and had I been in my right mind, I might have tried to learn who they all were. I only recognized Odin, and Baldr’s mother, Freyja.
Each step seemed heavier as if shackles rested around my ankles. My stomach churned. Panic. A shiver raced through my body.
The room was filled with deities, and they all stared at me like I was a mosquito, a nuisance even. I had the strange feeling that I was neither liked nor wanted by anyone in the room, except for Baldr, who held me tight as if I might fly away.
My throat began to constrict; my heart began to thrash against my ribs. Panic ran fingernails along my limbs, and fear gave chase.
In my head, I focused on my mother’s words of faith and belief. They became my mantra, and I could only hope that they would give me the strength to go through with this. My mind knew what I had to do, but my heart wished to escape, to run away from what could only bring me pain. Love could be its own two-edged sword. Hadn’t I seen that between my mother and father? She’d suffered so much because she loved him. But his first love had been Carthage, and not her.
Baldr wrapped his arm around my waist and pulled me to his side. Maybe he’d noticed the slight tremble in my hand, the nervousness in my fingertips.
I understood now. It was to be a show of partnership, of his claiming me as his; the gods’ agreement to the union meant little to nothing. Unlike in my society, where such touching was frowned upon, especially before marriage; here it seemed as if such a public display of affection was readily accepted.
“They’re watching. You should smile,” he whispered in my ear.
My ears began to ring, and my lungs refused to work. Air neither came in, nor went out in the short gulps I took. The room started to spin, and my knees buckled.
The sound of the gods’ gasps echoed throughout the chamber as I collapsed to the immaculate golden floor, and then their voices broke through my confusion.
“She is simply too weak for this life,” Odin exploded. Waves of anger wafted off him and jabbed me like a sea urchin.
“Give your poor son a chance,” Thor said. “Each of us have taken delights with those in other realms.”
“Since when do we discuss our dalliances?” Freyja asked. “We need not speak of those things of the past, but should instead focus on what we should do with this union.”
“Baldr,” Odin said, “Take her away and let her rest. Maybe once she has her wits about her, she will be willing to start the ceremony that announces your betrothal.”
“I thought we’d skip right along to the wedding
