The Cold has Never Bothered Me
by:
Elsbeth
|
Admin Note: Originally published on BigCloset TopShelf on Tuesday 10-15-2019 at 03:59:01 pm, this retro classic was pulled out of the closet, and re-presented for our newer readers. ~Sephrena
The Cold has Never Bothered Me
Living in the foothills of the Berkshires in Western Massachusetts, it was an easy thing to love the cold. I loved every bit of it, the snow, waking up to a crisp morning, just about everything. I loved it so much; I tended to ignore it when the weather took a turn for the worse. See, I am one of those weird people who can walk around in freezing temperatures and not be too uncomfortable.
So sure of myself, at the tender age of nine, I decided to walk home from school. My mother and father both worked, so my older brother would meet me at the bus stop. In my defense, all nine-year-old boys do stupid things sometimes.
“Taylor, aren’t you supposed to be taking the bus?” One of my classmates, Luis Newsom, asked as I caught up to him on his way home.
“Nope, it's still nice out. I’ll meet Eric at the bus stop, he’s always late anyway,” I replied as we turned off the main road heading towards his house.
“If you want, you can come over,” Luis looked up at the sky concerned.
True, the wind started to pick up, but I should be OK, “Can’t my grandma is supposed to come over tonight. Hey, how about Friday. I got Fantasy Fight for my birthday. I'll sneak it into my backpack.”
“Sweet, I'll see you tomorrow,” He waved as he took off across the fields to his house.
Turning in the other direction, I hadn’t taken more than a dozen steps before it began to snow. That was when I made a slight miscalculation, instead of going down the road. I took a shortcut through the woods. Unfortunately, I guessed where I was going, and of course, it proved to be totally wrong.
“I’m in so much trouble,” With the snow now coming down pretty hard, I had no clue if I could find my way out of the woods, much less get to the bus stop. Worse, my warm winter clothes offered no protection from the temperature, which was dropping at an alarming rate.
Putting my head down, I started walking. Stopping would be dumb. I wasn’t afraid yet, more worried that my mom would be angry with me for getting home late. When the snow and wind started to make it hard to see, I then became afraid I wouldn’t be getting home. When I felt the cold reach all the way to my bones, it was then I started to cry.
“Why are you crying?” I heard a voice call to me.
Looking up, I suddenly found myself in the center of a clearing in the forest. What was even stranger, it was not snowing anymore. It was as if I stepping inside the eye of a hurricane.
“I’m not crying,” I grumbled while rubbing the tears from my face.
The person who called out to me was a boy about my age wearing a Bunad, which consists of a white embroidered shirt, knee-length trousers, a jacket, stockings, and lots of silver accessories.
A lot of the older men dressed the same way for our winter festival. What drew me to him was not his outfit or his white hair but his eyes. So blue, I suddenly felt as if I was falling into them.
The boy laughed; I liked his laugh. Confused, I asked. “Are you here for the Winter Queen Festival?”
“I am, my mom thought it would be fun. Unfortunately, my dad is too busy with work,” As he explained, he took my hand, which almost caused me to jump.
“Oh, my dad gets pretty busy too this time of year,” The festival was pretty fun, but none of the girls wanted to talk to me about it. Usually, I would have pulled my hand back, but it felt safe.
“Well, my name Saemingr,” He said.
I thought it was a cool name, “I’m Taylor.”
“Well, nice to meet you, Taylor. Are you ok?” He looked at me with concern.
I sighed, “No, not really, I decided to walk home today, not a great plan with the snow and all.”
“What you don’t like snow,” Saemingr sounded upset, but from his grin, I could tell he was joking.
“Oh no, I love everything about the snow. Winter is my favorite time of year. It’s just I am supposed to be home, my grandmother is coming over tonight.”
“Alright then, how about I take you home,” Saemingr then began to pull me towards the forest edge. Strange, it was still not snowing around us. Suddenly, I thought it might be all a dream.
“I’ll tell you a secret. It's my favorite time of year too.”
I smiled then looked down as we were still holding hands. “How about the school, it's closer, I can call my mom from the office.”
As we walked, Saemingr told me a little about his mom Skadi. Apparently, he lived in Europe with his parents, only coming to America for the Winter Queen Festival.
“Well, here we are,” He suddenly announced.
Surprisingly, we found ourselves standing right outside the school. It seemed a lot quicker than when I walked. Secretly, I was a little disappointed.
“Am I going to see you again? “I asked.
Saemingr shrugged, “Who can say what the Norn’s have in store for us, my beautiful Taylor.”
Leaning forward, he kissed me on the cheek and then was gone. Before I could tell him I was a boy, the snow came down like a hammer, the wind almost knocking me to the ground. Opening the school door, I ran into the office.
“Taylor! Thank goodness,” Miss Hinsdale almost dropped the phone then put up one finger. “Yes, Maggie, he just walked in, thank God.”
She motioned to the phone, which I picked up, “Hello.”
“Taylor, where have you been? We were about to call the police. Eric said, you didn’t come home from school on the bus.” It was my mother, sounding really upset. I now felt bad. My walk with Saemingr started to feel more like a dream.
“I decided to walk home, and it was nice out. But it started snowing, “I tried to explain.
I could hear her sigh, “You knew the weather report, sometimes Taylor. OK, I’m happy you’re safe. Don’t move. Your dad is out looking for you, let me call him to pick you up.”
Giving the phone back to Miss Hinsdale, I took a seat. I was in so much trouble.
I never told anyone about Saemingr, not that anyone would have believed me anyway. Did I get grounded, you bet. Still, at least I didn’t miss the Winter Queen festival. At that time, I loved it, but that would change.
Go anywhere across the globe, and you will find villages and towns celebrating all sorts of yearly festivals. From The Tomato Fight festival, The Crying Baby Festival to The Frozen Dead Guy Days, each seemed to be unique to a particular location. Some of these celebrations have been going on for so long no one remembers why they started them in the first place.
Now in our quiet little town of Leesburg, we hold our Winter Queen Festival. Town historians speak of how the original settlers brought this tradition over from the old country, wherever that old country happened to be. Opinions among historians vary, but most of the town still has relatives in Scandinavia.
Now, why did our ancestors start such a festival you ask, to appease the King of Winter, of course. Back in those days on that fateful day, some lucky young girl would be dressed in beautiful marriage clothes, marched halfway up the tallest mountain in a joyful procession, shackled to a large rock, and left to freeze to death. Perhaps they should have named it, Frozen Dead Girl Days.
I even wrote an excellent seventh-grade history report on the background of the festival and the ancient tradition of human sacrifices for the good of the community. My parents grounded me for a week, even though I made an A-plus on the paper. See, the entire Larsen clan had always been very involved in the festival, and according to my parents, the research paper showed a lack of proper respect for family traditions.
Luckily for the girls in our town, when our families settled in Massachusetts, they changed the whole human sacrifice tradition. But still, having a celebration every year that started as a human sacrifice at least to me seemed sort of like celebrating the sinking of the Titanic with a boating race.
Nowadays, the Winter Queen has become an honorary title, the town’s spokesperson for various events throughout the year. Oddly enough, sometime during the early 1970s, a group of forward-thinking individuals decided that the young men in the town should be able to join in on the fun. Considering some of the attitudes of some of the men in town, starting the human sacrifice thing again seemed like a good idea too.
A few wanted to put the boys in dresses, but even with the push for equality, no one wanted to make fun of the tradition. The young men would instead wear all-white suits, and perform the same duties as the girls. In the end, although the selection was random, somehow, it was still pretty rare for a guy to be picked.
Now my feelings changed for the Winter Festival after I came home one afternoon from hockey practice. Walking into the living room, I found my cousin Nora getting ready to be the Winter Queen. Although I knew she had been annoyed about being selected, Nora looked absolutely beautiful.
See, my grandmother owned a dress shop in town, and every year the whole family would volunteer to sew any number of costumes needed for the week-long event. As the family of the intended sacrifice, sorry I mean blushing bride, Nora’s outfits needed during her reign would be our responsibility. My grandmother, this year, totally outdid herself.
At that very moment, though, I wanted to be the Queen of Winter so badly it hurt. Running from the room, after saying a couple of unflattering things which to this day, I don’t remember saying I went and cried in my room. Oh, I ended up apologizing to my cousin, but the entire thing upset me.
After that, I decided I would pretend that the festival never existed and insist on being a boy’s boy. Since boys don’t like dresses, don’t like holding hands with a certain white-haired boy, and definitely, do not want to become the Winter Queen, I started to get into trouble. For a couple of years, I made life difficult for my family and neighbors.
Of course, Mother Nature had the last laugh. At the age of twelve, as all my friends shot up in weight and height, I remained rather short. At fourteen, I still had not gotten much taller than my mother’s five foot five, unlike my Neanderthal brother Eric who broke the six-foot mark at the same age.
One of my best friends, Laura Jacobson, said I looked svelte. Eric said I looked like a girl. Of course, he hadn’t forgiven me for quitting hockey, but I had gotten tired of being checked into the boards every five minutes.
So let’s get back to the festival. Upon entering High School, my dear parents unbeknownst to me added me to the lottery of those eligible young adults who might be selected as the Queen of Winter. Not every family signed up, mainly for financial reasons, but for the most part, my parents hoped I would be selected. There was a reason for this, of course. See, unfortunately, this also happened to be the same year that our little town got savaged by the recession.
For half the year, tourists come and sleep in our quaint bed and breakfasts, eat-in our home-style restaurants, and shop along Main Street. Manheim, the largest ski resort owner in New England, had assisted with the prosperity with its second-largest resort built right outside of town.
Since their hotel was always booked, we would get the eventual overflow. Unfortunately, with the recession, people no longer had extra money to shop along Main Street, much less stay at an expensive Ski resort.
The failure of the economy directly impacted my family. For over seventy years, the Larsen family had been the proud owners of Larsen and Larsen, a construction company that my great grandfather had started with his brother after three years in the Pacific as a Seabee during World War II.
Since the Manheim family decided to build the resort some sixty years ago, our family had always been slammed with work right up to the very moment that the resort closed its doors. Although there were several other popular resorts in the area, people seemed to have less money to go on vacation.
With the lack of building and repairing, my family started to have to depend on my mother’s meager salary as a Middle School teacher. So, they didn’t ask because my selection would be good for the family business.
Now even with bad times, store closing, and families moving away to find jobs, the festival plans didn’t stop. Throughout all the wars, revolutions, depressions, and the blizzard of 76, it had always taken place. Everyone, except for me, of course, looked forward to it.
During my freshman year, the festival ended up being the smallest since the depression, but the chances of me being picked didn’t diminish. By the middle of my junior year of school, my last as an eligible candidate for the Winter Queen, I still had no idea they had been putting me into the selection.
“Taylor comes on downstairs. You won’t believe this.” My mother called from the kitchen.
Closing my Pre-calculus textbook, I made my way downstairs to find my mother with a large snow-white envelope in her hands.
“Is that what I think it is?” My stomach dropped to my feet, how could they.
Hesitantly I reached for it. Sure enough, the envelope was addressed to me, with the historical society as the return address.
“Taylor, I know you haven’t really been interested in helping us with the festival, but I always appreciated your help. Now I will say we unfairly pushed you into this, but for our family not to be in the lottery seemed unnatural. However, if you really don’t want to do this, tell me. I still have some pull with society.”
Slowly opened the envelope; on the gold and blue societies letterhead it began:
Dear Taylor Larsen
The Historical Society of Leesburg congratulates you on being selected this year’s Winter Queen.
My heart nearly stopped. As nonchalantly as possible, I showed my mother the letter. She read through it a couple of times, noting the times that I needed to be available for presentations, rehearsals, and the like.
“Well, Taylor, what do you think? You don’t have to tell me today, but you don’t have a lot of time to decide.” As she explained to me, I could tell my mom wanted to know right now.
Sitting down, everything turned a little grey. Did I want to do this, truthfully it seemed like fate, “No, mom, as you said, we Larsen’s have always been part of the festival.”
I could see the relief in her eyes as she walked up to me and gave me a warm hug — something I really hadn’t wanted in years but desperately needed right now.
“Let’s call Nora. If I remember correctly, your grandmother made several nice suites Brad Thomas wore when he was selected five years ago.”
My grandmother had passed away in my freshman year, leaving Nora her little sewing shop. For my grandmother, it had been a little extra pin money, but Nora and her new wife had turned it into a successful business.
From internet sales, Renaissance Festivals, Comic Book Conventions, and the like, she had done very well even in this economy. From the screaming, I could hear coming from the other end of the telephone. I could tell she was excited too.
The very next day, right after school, I drove my mother to Nora’s shop. Nora had suggested that my mother come back in a few hours. We would have a little showing. If all went well, and the blizzard that we were expecting hadn’t come in yet, we would all go out to dinner in celebration.
“So how did the men in the household take it?” Nora released me from a warm hug while pulling me by the hand to the back of the shop.
Since my grandmother gave the dress shop to Nora, she had extended the old Victorian home, cleaned out the basement, and built a small photo studio out back in the old carriage house. Not bad for someone who was only twenty-six and a college drop out.
My father didn’t exactly approve of my cousin's lifestyle. Well, anything about her. He had also never been comfortable with me working in the shop, but right now, we needed the money. Almost all of it went directly into my severely depleted college fund.
“Dad insisted that any suite you made for me didn’t look feminine. He wanted a manly cut, whatever heck that means.” I couldn’t help but roll my eyes.
Nora laughed and looked at my face. “When was the last time you shaved baby doll?”
“Last week maybe,” I never really had much a beard, much less a lot of body hair.
“Well, let’s take care of that. Go ahead in the back and put yourself in the shower, and use this to take off all your body hair.” Susan reached over to the counter and handed me a pink bottle.
I looked down at the bottle and nodded. To my surprise, she passed me a little white piece of cloth. “You know this is a bikini bottom?”
“Yes.” She grinned. “Do you remember how to tuck?”
OK, so I haven’t been entirely truthful. At fourteen, I started to help Nora in the shop, mostly moving things around before she and Amber got married. One afternoon after coming back from a meeting, she walked downstairs to discover me dressed in a Renaissance Costume. Not a big deal, I had modeled for her numerous times; however, this time I wore a dress.
So caught up in what I was doing, I didn’t hear her come downstairs. Preparing myself for a torrent of angry words; instead, Nora helped me fit the leather corset and bodice correctly and then did my makeup and hair. The whole works. We even have an odd assortment of photos hidden away from that day somewhere in the studio when I modeled a bunch of different outfits.
Later that evening, we sat down over dinner and talked and talked. Now you know why I considered Nora more of an older sister than a cousin. She of all people understood that this meant more to me than just dressing up as the Winter Queen. At the end of the festival, I planned on having a long talk with my parents. But, I was afraid, terrified.
Amber came downstairs as I sat on a studio chair, wearing a light pink smock while Nora began to pluck my eyebrows.
“I guess my cousin-in-law won’t be wearing a suit,” Amber grinned, then, without another word, started to help Nora with my outfit.
We didn’t have a lot of time. Thankfully beforehand, the three of us decided upon a traditional Victorian costume for the showing. Like most of the outfits I would be wearing as the Winter Queen, the colors would be in numerous shades of white.
Amber thought a black wig would look nice with my coloring, but my cousin opened a box with an expensive white wig. I had worn it once before when we did a test run with this outfit a month ago. The wig would look very real. As my super short nineteen fifties, father approved manly haircut wouldn’t be in the way.
“Taylor, I don’t know if you’re going to look like a Winter Queen.” Amber giggled. “But you’re going to look smoking hot.”
With a corset to draw in my waist, the sides of the dress came out, giving me the illusion of some lovely round hips. Breast forms under the corset gave me the illusions of a very feminine chest.
I even allowed the two of them to pierce my ears, stating I could always let them close later, maybe. I also selected a cute set of silver snowflake earrings for my first pair. The two of them brought out a beautiful pair of Victorian boots to finish the outfit. Slowly my metamorphous was complete.
Standing in front of a mirror an hour or so later, I couldn’t disagree. My cousin had always said I was too pretty for a boy. They both insisted that it took very little if any of their studio magic to bring out the girl I always knew lay hidden inside.
“You know you walk like a girl.” Amber followed me as we walked upstairs to wait for my mother.
“Hard not to do wearing a corset,” Well, not entirely accurate as Nora, and I had been working on my mannerisms for some time.
Turning the corner, I had the surprise of my life. My mother stood in the center of the front room, half an hour early, but next to her stood my dad and my brother.
“What in the hell!” My father began to yell.
“Taylor, why aren’t you in a suite?” My mother looked at Nora and Amber in confusion.
This was not going according to plan at all. After showing my mother the Victorian costume, Nora and I planned on working in tandem to get my mother’s approval on dresses. Slowly getting her to understand my feelings and hopefully help me tell my father.
Wearing the new line of Winter Costumes designed by Amber would be a great advertisement for the shop and the town. Nora had even planned on giving me a bonus, an extra modeling fee for all my hard work. I would have explained as it was going to be all in good taste. It shouldn’t matter. I was naive.
All my plans suddenly went out the window. I don’t know why I changed my mind. I could have told them it was just a joke. Something in me would have died, but I could have done it.
Again, I decided to not follow through with my plans. Like deciding not to take the bus but walk home during a blizzard, I made a slight miscalculation. I really should have known better but the way I felt in this outfit, looking like my true self. I felt compelled to explain everything. Sitting on a small chair in front of my parents, I forced them to take a seat.
“Since I was eight, no well before that really, I knew I was a girl.” I started to explain. I told them the reasons for my having problems with the Winter Festival and what it meant for me today.
Oddly enough, as I talked, it was as if no one in the room heard anything I said until my father suddenly started screaming, “Absolutely not, take that disgusting thing off right now!”
He was soon on his feet, blaming Nora, how he should have never let his son work for some dyke. My brother joined in, shouting at Amber. My mother just stood off to the side of the room, crying how could I have done this to her.
My world was ending, so I ran out of the house and, once again, into an oncoming blizzard. Where I was going, I had no idea.
Instead, I stepped into a familiar clearing and into Saemingr arms. For some reason, I was not surprised at his appearance. He held me close as I continued to cry. Moments later, I almost wanted to hit him when he started to laugh.
“It’s not funny, Saemingr,” I grumbled, resting my head on his chest.
His clothes had changed since the last time we met. Wearing jeans, a white button-up, and a blue jacket, he was underdressed for the weather as much as I was. Also, not that I would have admitted it back then, but he was handsome as ever.
I could hear the smile in his voice as he said, “Well, the last time we met, you were crying as well.”
“It’s good to see you again. I’ve missed you,” Stepping back, I wiped the tears from my eyes.
Saemingr reached up with hands and rubbed the tears from my cheek with his thumbs, “I have missed you as well, min vakre droning, so why are you crying? “
What do I say? Well, the truth, for some reason, I knew he would listen. He also wouldn’t hate me. So I started at the beginning, the very beginning. I left nothing out. It took a while, but I felt we had time. Afterward, for the first time in my life, I felt the weight of the world lift off my heart.
“So what do you want, Taylor,” Saemingr said with all seriousness.
Feeling as if what I said next would somehow change a lot of lives, I said. “I love my parents, I love my father but times have been so hard for him and my mother. Well, most of this town really and for some reason, it feels as if it's getting worse.
“Yes, but what do ‘you’ want?” He asked softly.
I looked up at his blue eyes, “I just want to be happy.”
“Well, I think I can help with that,” Grinning, he took my hand and started to lead me away towards the edge of the clearing.
Stopping, I looked at him, confused, “Really?”
Grabbing his chest as if pained, Saemingr looked at me sadly, “Ikke stol på meg dronningen min?”
I couldn’t help but giggle, “Of course, I trust you. It's just. OK, let’s go then.” Did I have a home to get back to? But for some reason, I trusted him more than anyone.
Wait, how did I understand him? But before I could ask, he took my hand and placed it under the crook of his arm and started to lead me out of the clearing.
The two of us moved through the forest like ghosts. We didn’t talk. We just enjoyed each other’s presence. The future wasn’t important right now.
“Looks like we’re here, “ He said, leading me back to my cousin’s back yard.
“I’m afraid,” I looked up at him.
Saemingr smile filled me full of warmth, “Trust me.” Leaning over, he gave me a soft kiss on the lips, “I’ll be seeing you min vakre droning.”
Blushing, my beautiful queen, I looked into his eyes and said, “Am I going to see you again, right?”
“Of course, the Norns have told me so,” And with a grin, Saemingr stepped into the woods and disappeared.
“The Norns huh,” Looking up, I noticed that the winter storm which had descended upon Leesburg has vanished just like Saemingr.
“Taylor, come inside your going to freeze to death,” I heard my mom call from the doorway.
“Wah,” I spun around confused, wasn’t she just crying?
Laughing, she pulled me into the house, “Silly, girl. I know you love the cold, but we have things to do tonight. Your dad won't admit it, but he is looking forward to the other outfits Nora and Amber made for you.”
My brother intercepted us as we made our way to the front room, “Hey sis, do you think maybe Stacy can be on your court.”
“Ah sure, why not,” Stacy, who happened to be Eric's girlfriend, had always been kind to me.
“Sweet, I’m going to give her a call,” He grinned before heading into the kitchen for some privacy.
To top the surreal experience, my dad came up to me and drew me into his arm, “If asked, I will tell everyone you are the most beautiful of our Winter Queens.”
Even if this was a dream, I leaned into his hug. My father might be a difficult man, but he had always been my daddy, “You’re just saying that because you're my dad.”
He grinned and then kissed me on my forehead, “Doesn’t make it any less true.”
Smiling, I had another thought, “I need to use the bathroom, be right back.”
As I left the room, Nora called out, “Do you need help?”
“Nope, I’m good,” Alright, I might be blonde, but I am not stupid.
A long time ago, I looked up the name Saemingr and Skadi. I didn’t believe it at the time, but now. Rushing into the bathroom, I started to well check on things. It was then I began to squee. The parts of my body that I have always hated were missing, and parts I always wanted were left in their place.
“You sure you don’t need any help,” Nora knocked on the door, obviously hearing me from the other room. OK, I might have been a little loud. Oh, I did have to pee.
Opening the door, I nodded, “Yea, I think I do. I mean, how am I supposed to?” I motioned to all the fabric under me.
“Practice,” She laughed and started to sort me out.
I learned that evening that everything changed and nothing changed. It was as if rocks were tossed into a stream, redirecting it another way, but it was still the same stream.
For example, Laura Jacobson was still one of my best friends, but we were a lot closer. Some of the guys I used to hang with, had drifted away when I quit sports anyway. Funny enough, I still played hockey when I was little, but my dad made me stop because he didn’t want his little princess hurt. Apparently, I took up dance instead.
The changes in Leesburg, well, those were wondrous. The Gungnir Company bought out the old Manheim resort earlier in the year, and its grand opening would be during the festival. The Winter Queen and her court would open the celebration, and we expected most of the town to be there to meet the new owners.
My father, on the other hand, along with my brother and the rest of the men in my family, had been working with the Company to make all of this happen. Suddenly a dying town was being brought back to life.
“Girls, if you would excuse us. I need to have a discussion with our Winter Queen,” A majestic voice interrupted a conversation I was having with the three girls in my court.
The grand opening went wonderfully, everyone looked great, and now we stood off to the side in one of the ballrooms while food and drink were being served to the guests. We had been deciding on details for the slumber party tonight, my first real one, where we would have hopefully have some fun and go over the rest of the week's schedule.
As the girls wander off, I looked up at the tall blonde woman. Dressed in a gorgeous blue dress, she was one of the most beautiful women in the room. Her eyes were just like her sons, blue as the waters in a mountain fjord.
“Your majesty,“ I stammered.
“So a pretty face and smart, good. Let's take a walk outside and let me learn a little about the woman my son hasn’t stopped talking about,” Into the winter air we went, neither of us dressed adequately but it didn’t seem to matter.
I liked Skadi; for being the Norse goddess of winter, she was very warm. Oh, trust me, I wouldn’t want to get on her wrong side, but the questions she asked were no different what another mom would ask of a girl interested in her son. And yes, I was very interested in Saemingr.
“So, what do you think, she didn’t scare you, min vakre droning?” The person who I hadn’t stopped thinking about found me, as I watched Skadi return to the side of her husband, consort wasn’t sure if there was a name for their relationship.
Alfodr Gungnir, the owner of the company who bought the resort, yes, he also goes by another name, Odin, stood surrounded by the most powerful men in the state holding court. Immediately I could see where Saemingr got his good looks.
Wasn’t Odin married to Frigga? Well yes, apparently didn’t stop him from having other children with other goddesses. Saemingr also called her mom, but she didn’t come down to Midgard too often.
“Not at all, she’s very nice,” I said as he came up and slipped his arm around me. Leaning my head against him, I looked outside as it started to snow.
“Good, so I hear you have a slumber party tonight with your friends. You wouldn’t mind if I joined you girls,” He asked, something in his voice though told me I was missing an inside joke.
“Sure, my dad would be thrilled to have a guy spend the night with us girls,” I couldn't help but chuckle. Yea, not happening.
So I was somewhat surprised when Skadi, with a bag of snacks and soda in hand, arrived at my house right before we expected our dinner to arrive. Trailing behind her with a sleeping bag in hand was a cute white-haired girl, who looked to be Saemingr’s twin.
I looked at Skadi, then back to Saemingr, yes I knew who she was, then back to her mom.
With a sigh, Skadi leaned forward, “He’s a little too much like his cousin.”
I’m sure you all know the one.
Introduced as Ingrid, Skadi explained she was only visiting for the weekend. Before she went to drop off the bags, the goddess of winter turned to Saemingr and said, “Oppfør deg.”
Ingrid quickly nodded as the room suddenly turned colder. “Ja tante, Skadi.”
With a nod to her son, daughter, whatever, and a gentle smile to me, she went off to speak to my mom. Yea, my boyfriend was going to behave tonight or else. Grabbing her by the hand, I dragged Ingrid into the living room to introduce her to the other girls.
Much later, I stood barefoot in the backyard. It had started to snow again, and later in the night would be colder, but right now, I enjoyed the feeling of the cold crisp air.
Saemingr said that he would help me with my happiness, but I understood one thing. Above all, it was also my responsibility. These wonderful changes gave me a push forward, but in the end, no matter what the Norns may have instore for us, we are indeed the masters of our destiny.
“Can't say I’m surprised to find you out here,” A familiar voice said as he slipped his arms around me.
Leaning with my head back on Saemingr, I grumbled, “You better be sure no one can see you.”
“Don’t worry. Everyone’s asleep. Want to go for a walk?” He asked.
“I’d like that.”, Turning around, I gave him a quick kiss on the lips before slipping my hand under his arm.
“You sure your not cold?” Saemingr asked.
Looking up, I couldn’t help but smile, “I’m good, as you know, the cold has never bothered me.”
Finis
Authors Note: Oh my this one has been sitting on my PC for a long time. Wrote most of it , well a while ago when we had a winter writing contest. So here it is for your enjoyment.
2019-10-15 15:59:01 -0400
Comments
I'm trying to refrain...
From the Let it go comments.
very nice
I liked it!
Thanks
It’s been on my Pc forever, I’m happy I got a chance to finish it.
Thanks for reading
Elsbeth
Is fearr Gaeilge briste, ná Béarla clíste.
Broken Irish is better than clever English.
Nice and soft
This tale went so smoothly and incredibly from the worst case senario to the best in a heartbeat.
Very nicely done.
always,
Barb
Life is a gift. Treasure it until it's time to return it.
Oklahoma born and raised cowgirl
Magic
As white as the driven snow!
Always liked Norse mythology
I always liked Norse mythology (I like mythology in general but Celtic and Norse mythology are probably my favorites), although much like Celtic mythology, it suffers from being a primarily oral tradition written down by Christians at a later date. Regardless, this was, as usual with you, a great story, albeit one that I wish was a little longer
Mythology
I do as well but unfortunately it's true. For Norse mythology, even the Codex Regius, written in the 13th Century plus the newer Poetic Edda are suspect, scholars can't really tell their authenticity. Still, fun to read.
Thanks for reading!
Is fearr Gaeilge briste, ná Béarla clíste.
Broken Irish is better than clever English.
The queen of local color strikes again.
Wonderful story!
If wishes came true?
My, what a lovely short story. Thank you so much.
Gwen
Achingly sweet
A soft, fairy tale feel but lovely little lessons. Loved it.
Lucky
She is go lucky I wish wishes worked for the rest of us. It’s a very sweet touching story it was very enjoyable.
hugs :)
Michelle SidheElf Amaianna
Wishes Coming True
I think that's why Disney is popular, but at least I have real Asgardians.
Thanks for reading
Is fearr Gaeilge briste, ná Béarla clíste.
Broken Irish is better than clever English.
Simply AMAZING!
Totally loved it.
Norse!
Afraid my Norwegian has gone rusty over the years of disuse or I'd give you a proper comment. So all I can say is Tusen Takk!
"Life is not measured by the breaths you take, but by the moments that take your breath away.”
George Carlin
Languages
Vær så god and thanks for reading :)
Is fearr Gaeilge briste, ná Béarla clíste.
Broken Irish is better than clever English.
What a sweet story.
I'm sorry I missed reading it when it first came out.
This is a great story.
It's nice to read it again. I miss you Elsbeth.
Someone is teasing me relentlessly……..
First posting a blog from Maggie Finson, and then posting a story from Elsbeth.
Two authors that I miss dearly. Gone too soon.
D. Eden
Dum Vivimus, Vivamus