The longhouse echoed with laughter, the crackling of the hearth, and the clinking of ale-filled mugs as the people gathered to celebrate the marriage of Einar and Avitue. The scent of roasting meat filled the air, mingling with the scent of flowers. Enough had been ordered and placed everywhere to fill two carts. No one doubted that today would be remembered for generations.

Standing tall at the head of the hall, Einar watched as his bride approached. Avitue had changed, draped in her ceremonial dress of pale linen and furs. She walked gracefully through the throng of cheering villagers. Her hair, braided with ribbons and charms, shimmered in the firelight. Einar could feel the weight of the moment settle on him as their eyes met.

Inside him was a feeling he had never allowed himself to experience. Yet there it was. Roaring like one of the many bonfires set up outside.

Odin… did you know this would happen? Did you set this in motion?

The ritual began. Einar took the sword, its blade gleaming in the dim light, and knelt before Avitue. With steady hands, he presented it to her. “This blade is my pledge,” he said, his voice strong but quiet, “to protect you and our future.”

Avitue smiled softly, taking the sword. In return, she handed him an iron key, an ancient symbol passed down through generations. “And this is my trust,” she whispered, “that I will safeguard our home and hearth.”

As they exchanged these sacred tokens, the longhouse erupted into cheers. Reinn stepped forward, a ceremonial Thor’s hammer cradled in his arms. With reverence, he placed it in Avitue’s lap. “May Thor bless your union with strength and many heirs,” he intoned solemnly, raising his hands to the heavens.

The couple’s fingers intertwined as they were handed a drinking horn filled with honey-sweet mead. Together, they drank, sealing their vows with the nectar of the gods. The crowd cheered louder, the roar of voices shaking the very beams of the longhouse.

As people cheered and shouted, Einar felt a hand on his shoulder and turned, seeing Hrein, a genuine smile upon his face.

“I’m proud to call you my son.”

Nodding, he pulled the large warrior close and let him embrace his daughter, hearing a few sniffs as Avitue winked at him and motioned for him to come close.

Laughing, he soon found himself in a bear hug, the crowd roaring in laughter and cheers.

***

“We thought you’d never let us have our fun,” Thorodd said as the other men nodded in agreement.

“Don’t blame me, blame the rituals,” Einar protested as the pack tried to get him to move faster as he started taking off his top.

Outside the longhouse, under the fading light of the sun, the people prepared for the games. Torches lined the edge of the village’s gathering field, casting flickering light on the stones and targets laid out for the contests.

First came the test of strength—a stone-lifting contest. Einar, being the groom, was expected to set the standard. He strode forward as the villagers cleared a path for him, all eyes fixed on his muscular form.

“Don’t make us look bad!” shouted Skardi, earning a fit of laughter from everyone gathered in the field.

A massive stone, nearly the size of a man’s torso, lay at his feet. He planted his hands firmly on its rough surface and, with a deep breath, hoisted the stone up with a roar that sent waves of excitement through the crowd.

He held it above his chest for a few heartbeats before letting it fall back to the earth with a satisfying thud. Cheers erupted around him, and several others stepped forward to try and match his feat.

Young and old, men and women, they all moved to the stone and each attempted to lift it. While it wasn’t the smallest one there, the fact that he had started with one of the latter ones made it evident how quickly the contest would go.

Soon only a few shield maidens and those who fought were left, with three larger stones to go.

Each one was almost a third the size and when it came down to the last one, only Hrein, Thorodd, Skardi and Einar were left.

“I swear he’s going to make us look bad.”

Thorodd laughed at the giant who moved toward the stone, now shaped like a small cross and easily the size of a teen.

“Yeah, because he’s Einar. The chosen one of the gods.”

Straining and grunting, Skardi managed to wrap his arms around the stone. Using his powerful legs, he lifted it off the ground, trembling for a moment before letting it fall, roaring right after.

“I’m out,” Hrein muttered, waving and shaking his head. “I’m to old for this shit.”

Thorodd smirked and nodded, motioning to the stone.

“I’ll pass too.”

Sighing, Einar gave both men a gesture with his hands, causing the crowd to laugh at this moment.

“You’re lucky it's my wedding night,” he whispered as he moved to where Skardi was.

“I yield to Skardi!”

Raising the arm of his warrior, the crowd cheered and laughed when Einar was picked up off his feet and shaken like a rag doll by the victor.

“I’m not petty, I’ll take a win over you even if you give it to me!”

Next came the archery contest. Wooden targets were set up in the distance, and the best archers in the village were invited to compete.

Avitue, known for her own skill with the bow, stepped forward, much to the delight of the crowd. She took aim with steady hands, loosing an arrow that struck dead center on the target. The villagers cheered her name as she returned to Einar’s side, a smile of pride lighting her face.

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“Am i going to win?” she asked, as she leaned against his naked torso.

“No… but trust me, you’ll win later tonight.”

She laughed, and as the others took their turn, it became evident how the contest was going to go.

Soon, only she and three warriors remained. Hogni, Geir, and one of the shield maidens went head to head until finally, it was down to just Hogni and the red-headed maiden.

“If I win, perhaps I’ll let you score tonight.”

Einar and Avitue laughed as Hogni’s shot went wide and the crowd roared.

The bride moved and raised the hand of the shield maiden, the crowd chanting ‘Drifa’ a few times.

Moving as one, Einar and Avitue walked hand in hand, following the crowd which had multiple rings going at once.

The final contest, a wrestling match, brought forth the strongest warriors in the village. Men clashed in the open field, grappling and twisting in the dirt, each trying to best the other.

Einar, refrained from participating, waving the men away who called him to come.

Instead, he stood next to Avitue, content in the knowledge that the night was about more than strength alone.

When the final victor was announced and the last contest came to a close, Reinn blew on a horn, calling for silence.

He raised his hands once more, chanting words in the old tongue that invoked the favor of the gods. “Til árs ok friðar,” he shouted, and the crowd repeated, their voices rising in a unified blessing. “To a good year and peace!”

The people lined up and moved quickly to stand before Einar and Avitue, offering them blessings and words of encouragement. Many were playful in their teasing, nudging Einar and reminding him of the importance of producing heirs. In contrast, others sang a quick songs of their ancestors, invoking the protection of the gods on the couple’s behalf.

The ale continued to flow as the night wore on, and the mood became joyful. Villagers danced around the fires, their shadows flickering from the seeming magical light.

Einar and Avitue were swept into the dance, their hands clasped as they twirled among their people. The villagers shouted their names into the night, a chorus echoing across the night sky.

As the stars began to illuminate the heavens, the time came for the bride to be led to the bed chamber.

The older women of the village surrounded Avitue, preparing her for the sacred night ahead. Einar, meanwhile, was met by the men, who offered him more cups of ale and hearty slaps on the back.

Ignoring the look that he was getting from Hrein, Einar smiled as Valgard stood before him.

“Enjoy each moment with her my son. Know that what I have watched you two play with for all these years is special. Never let it–”

“Stop!”

A silence fell over all the men as Guat stumbled into the crowd.

“Stop! I need to say something!”

Some of the warriors began to move, scowls forming and Einar moved quickly.

“Wait. What is it? What is wrong Guat?”

“You’re an asshole!” his childhood friend shouted, slurring his words and stumbling to the side as his cup spilled ale. “You stole her from me! She was mine and then you–”

“Guat Hagisson do not finish that sentence!”

Reinn’s voice boomed across the Longhouse and all eyes turned to the man who looked ready to kill his own son.

“Do not dishonor this moment in my town or I swear to you, I will ban you from here.”

“You wouldn’t! I’m your son! He’s just some cunt! You would choose him over–”

The sound of a fist hitting a jaw cut off the flow of words, and Guat fell to the ground. Osvif massaged his fist as he glared down at the one he had called a friend.

“Forgive me… but damn I always wanted to do that.”

“Einar… I’m–”

“It’s okay,” the groom said, cutting off the Lendmann. “Don’t apologize. I do not hold this against you or our town. Obviously, there are still some who are wounded inside, and we both know that alcohol has never been a strong point for him.”

Reinn studied Einar’s face, cocking his head to the side.

“I… I am grateful. I shall handle this. Forgive me for not being here for what comes next.”

Nodding, he had Osvif assist him as he dragged his unconscious son out. After the trio were gone, it took a moment for the room to recover.

“You were saying something?” Einar asked, getting Valgard’s attention.

“He was!” Skardi shouted. “He wants you to have fun tonight, not get raw, and give him a lot of grandchildren!”

Laughter came from all but Hrein, who glared at Skardi.

“Basically, yes. But remember, she is your shield, and you are her sword. You reminded me of this with Thora. For that, I am always here.”

Hugging Valgard, he nodded and allowed the other men to come get their turns.

Each one said things that would have made most sailors blush and yet he took it all in stride, knowing it was their custom.

A bell rang and an older woman entered the hall.

Giving a slight bow, Einar moved to where she was, ignoring the cheers and howls that came from behind.

“She is ready, I hope you are prepared.”

Laughing, he nodded.

“I hope so, too.”

He realized his hands were shaking as they approached the house that was surrounded by at least fifty people, all singing songs of blessings. Each one smiled at him as he drew closer.

Near the door stood nine women, all outfitted for battle, each one with their faces painted, yet all of them had a smile that was easily seen in the torches.

“She is waiting for you,” Samansa said. “Prove to her you are worthy.”

Laughter came from them all and he shook his head.

Pulling back the rugs that covered the door, he could see the flickering candles, a trail of thorn-petals leading to a doorway behind a wall.

“Should I come armed?”

Laughter came from behind the curtain, and Avitue stepped into the open doorway. Only a thin cloth covered her toned body.

“You better have a sword for this fight but if you don’t hurry up and get over here, I might end up sticking you.”

Grinning, Einar moved faster than he remembered, taking her into his arms and filling his nose with her scent.

Her fingers attacked the cords that bound his collar closed, almost ripping them off as he fought to free his arms from the confines of the shirt. In moments, it was ripped off his head and Einar watched as his wife studied his physique.

Slowly her finger traced the tattoo on his chest, smiling as each time it moved, his skin reacted slightly, his breathing growing deeper.

“You have been working out, too, it appears. Perhaps the rumors I have heard of your exploits aren’t all false,” she teased as she approached, pressing herself against him.

Her hand snaked along his back, following the line of formed muscles until it found his braid. She grabbed hold and kept his head in place.

His blue eyes and her green ones were locked on each other, neither blinking as both grinned.

She whispered in his ear, her tone huskier than usual, “Perhaps you could help me with my outfit.”

Unable to nod, Einar simply reached forward, pulling on the two strings that kept the front of the outfit together, letting the simple knot become undone, the sheer material falling to the floor in a pile.

His eyes had seen many naked bodies in his life and yet none had invoked the desire he felt in this moment. Beyond the simple hormones and desires that many might feel at seeing a woman as beautiful as Avitue. Inside was a passion that yearned for her in ways he knew was always impossible in his other life.

In his mind, something Odin had said the day he had been summoned from his world burst forth.

“I can give you the power to live a new life and find peace and joy you’ve never known.”

The truth of those words now came true. Something Einar had never imagined stood before him.

Love.