ELSKER: THE ELSKER SAGA *complete*

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

Chapter Fourteen 

IT WAS DARK WHEN we pulled up the tree-lined driveway of Ýdalir, crunching tires on gravel the only sound I could hear. Ull stepped out of the Range Rover, yawning in an uncharacteristic display of exhaustion. He’d been more tired than usual over the past few weeks, probably from worrying about the end-of-the-cosmos battle he was loathe to talk about. I knew he didn’t want to scare me, but my fate was so tied to his that anxiety was unavoidable. I couldn’t imagine a world without him, and I wished he would open up. If nothing else, I could be a shoulder to… well, talk on. The idea of Ull crying was ridiculous.

Ull carried our suitcases into the house, depositing mine in the guest room. I’d been hoping for some impropriety, but I knew better than to expect anything of the sort. I should have been grateful. Compared to a goddess, I was sure to be a disappointment, so the less experienced he was the better I’d look. On the other hand, Ull, in all his physical perfection, had waited an eternity to be with anyone. I seriously doubted I’d prove worth waiting for.

My thoughts were interrupted by his husky voice inviting me to join him on the terrace. I hurriedly ran a brush through my hair and raced through the living room. I didn’t want to waste another minute away from him. Outside, I skidded to a stop while my vision adjusted to the night. “Ull?”

I found him standing beneath the yew dale. He smiled expectantly, holding out one hand in welcome. I locked my eyes on his before staring at the ground. It was so familiar. A circle of candles framed the grass where he waited. They marked a path along the cobblestone walkway, rounding the English roses, leading to where I stood. Thousands of twinkling lights hung from the trees, and more candles stood in hurricane glasses along the stone wall.

It was all so carefully arranged. The lights in the trees winked down at me like the stars overhead. Looking up, I remembered another night, dancing under the stars at my high school’s homecoming dance. It had been freezing cold. My date was one of the three Mikes in our class, and he’d been a little too handsy. I’d feigned a need for the powder room and found Ardis hiding in there too. We’d run away from our dud dates, sitting on the football field in our fancy dresses and complaining about how dismal our dating prospects were in such a tiny town. Would we ever meet anyone worthy of our wonderfulness?

I looked to the row of flickering candles in glasses along the wall. My mind moved to another memory, a bonfire on the beach after exams my freshman year at UPN. My platonic lab partner with questionable breath sat next to me on a thick driftwood log, squirming anxiously until he turned to plant an unwanted kiss squarely on my lips. Thankfully I’d had a rare moment of grace, reaching to pick up a rock at just the right moment so the poor guy dove headfirst into the sand. Would my Prince Charming ever show up?

My eyes scanned the garden again, taking in the twinkling lights, the candles framing the tree, and the man standing in the middle of it all, his hand stretched out waiting for me to join him. How had my life gone from pawsy, high school boys in a one-light town to this? I took a tentative step toward Ull and looked around again. The yard was well decorated, even for Ýdalir. Could this be what I thought it was?

Everything clicked into slow motion as I realized what was happening. I made my way forward, carefully placing one foot in front of the other, sure I was going to trip over myself. I was hyper-aware of the cool, English night, the whoosh of a nearby owl taking flight, the sound of the small stones beneath my feet. I zeroed in on the glow from Ull’s brilliant eyes.

I made my way to my future, pausing breathlessly before the standing form of my real-life Nordic hero. He reached out to take both of my hands in his, the brilliant white smile never leaving his face. He squeezed my fingers. I breathed in and out, trying to commit every detail of this moment to memory.