The Trickster's Bride

Chapter Eight: Rani

So much was happening all too fast.

Not long after we got word that Njord would be visiting, Odin sent a raven to tell us of my upcoming "coronation" ceremony. And after the ceremony, we would celebrate my engagement.

I'd spent years in Vanaheim now, and I was finally meeting the two most important men in my life:The man who gave me life, and the man I would be spending my life with. Needless to say, I was reeling. I was not prepared. I suddenly felt like the 13-year-old girl gasping for air after flying with Valkyries.

Freyja and Freyr, on the other hand, were excited. As proper Aesir, they knew the strict schedule the God of the Wind and Sea was bound to. It had been quite awhile since their parents had visited. Imagine my surprise when I found out Skadi would be accompanying Njord. I wasn't sure why, since they had been separated for years.

My stepmother, the woman who wanted me exiled me to Midgard, would finally be there to look me in the eyes. Would she hate me upon sight? I had heard too many times how much I favored the Valkyrie who gave birth to me. Surely that would bring to mind the awful visual of her ex-husband in the arms of another woman. I suspected she wanted to lay eyes on me herself. Or perhaps Skadi's solitude in her mountains had brought her some clarity. After all, I had no hand in my conception.

The day of Njord and Skadi's arrival, Fanndis was like a hive of bees. The servants were scurrying around with last-minute cleaning and cooking. Freyr was doing his best to oversee the progress, while Freyja and I were attended to by the maids. As we hurried off to our rooms, we laughed at Freyr's wide-eyed face. He obviously had no idea how to run a household. Freyja joked that he needed to be the next one to get married.

I had soaked in my signature violet-scented tub as long as I could, trying to coax the tension in my muscles away. It hadn't helped much, so I abandoned it. Freyja, understanding the sticky situation that might arise between me and Skadi, had suggested that we wear similar gowns to show our friendship. "Perhaps seeing that we get along might make her soften a bit," my sister had told me. It was certainly worth a shot. I was grateful that Freyja understood her mother's cold nature.

Indeed, Freyja and I had grown as close as though we'd been full-blooded sisters. We agreed on many things, and even when we disagreed, we respected each others' opinions. We had spent our free time singing, dancing, promenading in the gardens, or exploring the beauty of Vanaheim. We knew each others' deepest secrets and desires.

Thus, when I came from the bath, Freyja was already in my room, allowing her maidservant to curl and comb her hair. "Sister!' she cried. "Hurry and dress! We want to be ready when they arrive, to appear as gracious hostesses!"

I rolled my eyes with a smile. Freya knew that appearances could mean favor being given to you in any situation. Easy for the Goddess of Beauty to say. Myself, I preferred voicing my opinion and thoughts. I felt a clear head trumped all. Together, we were a force to be reckoned with. But instead of arguing, I pulled on my gown and let Idony lace me up.

I had grown to be quite beautiful, or so my siblings told me. My hair had grown ever longer, so that it reached my now well-rounded bottom. I'd gotten taller as well, and better formed, it seemed. My limbs, once comparable to the knobbly knees of a kid goat, had smoothed out and toned. My breasts had rounded and become fuller, though not so large that I could not use my trusty bow. My waist, though not as curvy as voluptuous Freyja's, had a slight hourglass figure to it. My skin had stayed porcelain pale, though my cheeks and lips were rosy pink. My eyes, once too big for my skull, were now complementing rather than distracting. The thirteen year old girl, fresh from Midgard, had become a true Aesir beauty.

I smoothed out the skirt of the form-fitting midnight-blue gown Freyja had made for me. Hers was similarly colored, though styled differently. Her sleeves cascaded out into graceful bell-shapes, though mine hung tight to my arms and stopped just below my elbow. Her gown was trimmed with white, a nod to her proud mother's homeland. Mine was trimmed in silver, like the gleam of the sea. A simple detail that called to mind the realm of my father. The father I was to meet for the first time, today. I took some comfort in the fact that the gown resembled the one my foster mother had made so long ago.

Freyja and I were as of yet unmarried, so we were permitted to wear our hair free-flowing. Freyja had her maid style hers in curls, so that her hair swayed like golden silk with each movement. It was a very becoming look on her, as her hair framed her face, and the blue gown made her eyes shine like sapphires. She applied her own makeup, kohl and rouge to accent her magnificent beauty. Next to her, I sometimes felt as plain as a stalk of wheat.

I told Idony to braid half of my hair in my signature tri-braid. The effect was so that the braid was thick and strong, but the layers beneath it flowed without restraint. The blue gown served me a good purpose, too: it made my eyes seem more gray than green. Freyja offered me her brushes and paints, but I didn't want to wear it. I would allow my face to speak for itself.

We were finished all too soon for my liking. Freyja and I linked arms, and made our way to the courtyard, where Freyr was enjoying a drink. He smiled proudly when he saw us. He, too, was quite handsome. He was dressed in alternating grays and blues, to match our ensembles. He had washed and combed both his hair and beard, so that he looked more like a nobleman rather than a wild woodsman, as was his norm.

"Sisters, don't you look lovely," he beamed.

"Oh Freyr," I laughed, "you bathed!"

We all chuckled together, a sound I'd come to love. I would be truly sad when my time came to leave Fanndis. I felt closer to the twins than I ever had my Midgardian brothers. My sense of belonging was growing ever stronger.

We reclined under the shade of the awning, commenting on the pleasant weather. It was slowly becoming autumn, but the air was still warm and balmy. We only spoke of such dull things to quell the anxiety in our hearts. My siblings did well to hide it, but I knew them enough to see the nervous twitches in their hands and the wide-eyed anticipation.

And finally, the time came. A servant stepped outside, and we all stood to our feet.

"May I present to you," the male servant announced, "The great Njord and Skadi."

We three bowed in unison, a gesture we had never even needed to choreograph. As we rose, I laid eyes on my father for the first time.

Njord was tall and broad-shouldered, built to weather storms. He was tanned and windburned, clad in a charcoal-hued ensemble. His face was lined and serious, but there was a joyous light in his eyes. On his face, I saw my own nose, and the shape of my own mouth. His eyes, though dark, were turned up in happiness. His hair was thick and darker like Freyr's, peppered with silver. Freyr favored him more, but I could see myself, too.

I was looking at my Father. Finally, my real, true father, who gave me life. I didn't realize I was smiling, but I felt the tears come.

Then Skadi stepped into view.

Some say that Freyja is the most breathtaking Goddess in Asgard. Some say it is Sif. But I say to these people, if you have that opinion, then you have never laid eyes on Skadi.

Not only was this ice queen beautiful, but she was formidable. Clad in white furs lined with black, Skadi's skin was as pale and translucent as frozen lakes she skates on. She stood proud and defiant, like a woman who knows herself completely. Her hair was white-blonde, hanging in two thick braids on either side of her jaw. She had a beautiful angular face, with a straight fine nose and full dewy lips. But her most lovely and frightening feature was her eyes.

Skadi's eyes were elongated, lined in black, with long lashes. But the color was like a pure spring-fed pond that had iced over. And they were perfectly unreadable. I could not tell if those eyes were looking at me with hatred, disgust, pleasure, or indifference. There was a complete absence of emotion.

I realized I was staring, and averted my eyes so I didn't seem rude. Njord stepped forward and hugged his son, then Freyja, as was customary. As he approached me, I could see in his eyes that he was unsure of what to do. My heart was throbbing so hard in my chest it was making me breathless.

Njord paused before me, gazing into my face like he'd just found something he'd lost years ago. Then he took my hands and clasped them tightly. "Rani," he said, "it's so good to see you again."