Chapter 2—HOW THEY MET

A man was sitting in the Great Hall of his keep upon a wood-carved throne, which had carvings of Celtic designs of unity, wolves, and dragons. The throne was placed before a massive wooden looking table which had just been cleared from the food that he had for dinner. But he was still enjoying his mead that was in his hands.

He had just leaned back against his chair when a great big flash brightened the huge room of light. It lasted about a minute and was chased afterwards by the sound of thunder that shook the keep.

Once it was clear enough for the man to look, he saw a woman lying upon his table like a sacrificial lamb before a god. She was stretched out at five foot seven with broad shoulders and wide hips along with a set of strong looking legs and a good-sized arm with the small hands of a child.

He glanced up towards her face and noticed that she was about twenty-three years of age. The woman had long brown-red hair with copper highlights. She was wearing a sapphire dress with gold Celtic designs around the neck. As well at the end of the sleeves and the bottom of the dress. Along with a white silk looking dress, underneath it.

Then the man noticed a metal band upon the woman's right upper arm. It had a Celtic looking hammer and a lightning bolt, in the background.

The man said, "Child of Thor" under his breath.

The bands that the women wore upon the right arms were family bands. They wear to show off which family that they belong to. He then glanced over to the left arm and sighed in pleasure. There was none shown there, and that the woman was not claimed by any man.

Lyra was starting to wake up and notice she was no longer lying on a bed. She wondered if she had fallen off her bed again because she had felt a hard surface on our back. Like she was lying upon the wooden floor.

She let out a loud moan and her eyes had flicked open; it was when she had noticed that she was no longer in her bedroom. She then looked to the right of her and saw a man, who happened to be standing close to her.

Unlike most women, Lyra ended up letting out a small squeak and tried to scoot away, towards the edge of the table. But the man seemed to have other plans. He reached out and grabbed her with one of his arms around her waist. Keeping her from falling and hurting herself.

The man grumbled, which sounded like a growl to Lyra, "Lay still, or you'll hurt yourself."

Lyra sat still. She had noticed that his voice had a deep sounding voice. Making her believe that he sounded almost like a wolf that was able to sound like a human.

She then glanced over to him and saw a man, who was a large man, who looked like he was built for war. He wore a dark brown almost black, leather kilt with a matching vest upon his upper form.

The whole look showed off his strong broad shoulders, thick arms, and legs. But he seemed to be bit thin around the waist. He had brown-red hair. With golden streaks highlights that came down, just past his shoulder blades. He also had a little of hair coming from his face. His eyes were what had gotten to Lyra. He had ice blue eyes with accents of sapphire specs within them. Which made her believe that he had a haunted look within them. To her, she had finally understood what most women would call a God, for he was very handsome.

"Where am I?" she asked the man before her.

He seemed lost with her question before he had answered her. She found out that she was at his home. In a place called the Island of Man, which kind of shocked Lyra because she does not remember a place called that. Not even from her time in her high school or her college courses that she was taking.

Her head was still foggy from waking up in a strange place. She could not see anything around her, except knowing that was too many men in the room.

She then glanced down at herself and saw that she was no longer wearing her lingerie. But what looked like a medieval looking sapphire dress. Along with a silk under dress beneath it.

Then she found the silver band upon her right arm. It looked to be about three and a half inches wide. She brought her arm up to where she could see it and saw Thor's hammer and a lightning bolt in the background.

The man spoke again, "What is your name, Child of Thor?"

Lyra glanced over at him and thought, 'He thinks that I am Thor's daughter?'

She gave him her first name and then thought, 'With that being on my arm. It would be hard to disclaim such a thing like that while people will believe that I am Thor's daughter.'

"Welcome, Lyra, to my stronghold; my name is Varg Drake, but please call me Varg." When she did not answer him, he went on to say, "Your travels must have troubled you. You shall need a healer." He then glanced around the room until he saw an older man, whom he had called out to, "Grandfather, check Lyra."

"Yes, Varg," answered a raspy voice. He was an aging man with a long gray beard and hair. He wore forest green robes that matched his eyes and walked up next to the chair that Varg had been sitting on.

Varg spoke again, "This is Carriage, my grandfather. He is the healer to my people and my most trusted advisor. Grandfather, this is Lyra, Child of Thor, who is a Thunder God to my father's people."

The older man gave a small chuckle, with a heart-warming smile upon his lips. He spoke, "Come, Lyra, Child of Thor. Let us get you to a hut of your own, and let me heal you. Varg, help the young lady off your table and get her up on her feet."

Varg, who still had one of his arms around Lyra's back, helped her to the edge of the table. Near to where he was standing and then placed his other arm under her knees and picked her up off of the table. He was then able to carry her.

Carriage chuckled, amused. "I guess that would work too."

Lyra could not believe how strong this man was, for he was able to pick her up, while men from 2003 could hardly pick her up. She hated that she was heavy.

A doctor had yelled at her, whenever she saw him. Stating that she should lose weight or die. Lyra was glad that she would not be able to see that doctor ever again. For she seemed to have found herself in a place that she could hardly call, a dream.

The reason she cannot lose weight is because of her PCOS problem. Something that she was born with and there is no cure. The foods that Lyra would call; in the modern age, had made it even harder for her to even lose one pound.

Carriage started walking towards the back of the Great Hall. Where the hierarchy of men and women would have walked through. Following the hallway to the door that led to the outside.

Varg followed Carriage through a lane of Huts that were behind the Great Hall. Until he noticed that he was being led to a Hut that was nearest to his own. But the Hut was much smaller, and he had wondered why his grandfather would want to put Lyra near him. Then a thought came to him that maybe his grandfather was planning for him to marry the woman.

He needed to talk to his grandfather. Before the old man had planned even more of his future. Or he would lose his choice to plan his own.

Carriage had stopped walking; once he had reached a wooden door that was next door to Varg's own Hut. The Druid had then opened the door to where everyone could see inside. The room was big enough for one person. With a built-in bed that was up against a wall, with logs tied together and hay laid within it. A mattress, which poked out from under animal skins. Lyra knew about historical stuff and animal skins used for blankets. During most of the earlier years of the human races.

As she was still within the man's arms. Lyra had noticed that he had strong muscles, as well as a strong firm back. From what her arms could tell her about the man.

After a moment's pause, Varg carried Lyra to the bed and laid her down. She could feel the straw bales under the pellet skins. The fur told her that they had come from Highlander cattle. Her grandparents had owned a few hundred and other animals on the land.

She knew then that she was within Scotland. But Lyra had no idea where; just going on the fact that the Highlander cattle were the only clue for her to go on. Carriage shooed Varg away from them and the bed. To where the healer was able to get a close enough look of the woman, who was sitting up on the bed.

The Druid looked into the woman's eyes, pinched her skin, and then turned towards the lord of the tribe. "This woman is suffering from shock and should have one of my healing teas, along with a hot bath."

The Druid looked at the woman again. "She also needs a good night's sleep. I would also recommend for one of the dogs. They can keep watch over her. She looks like she could use a good friend. Plus, her being unclaimed, it would be harder for the men to stay away from her."

"Grandfather," growled out Varg, "what do you have planned?"

Even with Lyra's fogged up mind. She knew enough of her history to know that any woman who is unclaimed meant that they are not married. It was a known fact that men of the time; would either, fight for the woman's hand. Like gladiators, who would fight to live, or they would try to get the woman another way. She was so hoping that was a way that she would not have to see any violence.

Carriage sighed. The aging man sounded almost exhausted from his long years of wisdom. "Don't growl at me Varg, but as for my idea. Just tell the people that Thor had sent his daughter for you to marry, and she had just shown up a little ahead of time. Where the two of you will be able to decide for the wedding in three days. Which would also give the two of you time; to get to know each other. Before the wedding of course," the old Druid spoke with a smile on his face, and his eyes shone with happiness and mirth.

Lyra moved far away from the two men. Leaned against the wall, where the other side of the bed would have been. And wrapped her arms around herself. She was afraid of what they were talking about, for she was not used to such language around her.

She saw the joyful look, upon the older man, within the room. Not only that, but she did not understand the man well enough to know. That he wanted her to marry his grandson to protect her from other men within the village. She had thought that there would be no way; of any Lord, would want to marry her.

Not when she was a wide and a bulky person. Not when the guys from her high school or college, have ever laid their eyes towards her. Lyra knew that they were drooling over people like her friend, Charlie, who was thin and had a model-like figure with daily outfits that went with such a figure.

Lyra then glanced up; at the corner of her eyes and saw that he was looking at her like no other guy has ever done before. Lyra was then hit with a thought, which nearly made her dizzy from the experience. If the Norse God of Thunder had sent her there for this man to marry. The conclusion that was brought to her was that she had no cause to argue when she had no one to fight for her back home.

While Lyra was debating within her mind. Varg was studying her, noticing her shyly glancing his way. This caused his heart to flutter. He did not know why; he saw that she was more than shocked. But confused as to why she was there and why they were talking about him claiming her to be his wife to be.

As he studied her some more. He saw that she looked more like his father's people than she did with his mother's people. Except for her nose. Her nose looked like of an Erie Pixy and her ears look like that of an Eire maiden. Even her eyes and hair looked like she belonged to Land of Eire, not even close to his father's Thunder God.

Varg asked Lyra, as he was trying to get some answers from her, "Who was your mother? Was she a Viking or from Eire?"

Lyra had to think about her answer. Her mother's family line was from Ireland and Scotland. While her father was from Norway and Sweden area. It was hard for Lyra to explain this; for they were known by another name during that time, then it hit her. He had asked about Eire; she remembered T-shirts with the name Eire on them, with the Irish flag.

It was then that it hit her. Ireland was Eire. This would explain why Varg would talk that way that he did. He was born within the area and would think the way that he was talking. Then she remembered him talking about Vikings. And knew that it was because of her father's family. Lyra was only glad that she had taken some history classes; for she was able to understand what was being said. She did not have to ask questions to drive the men mad. Women were not well known for their brains; during the ages, and Lyra had hated that about the human-race.

"My mother was from Eire." Which was where her ancestors were from. Long before one of them had found their way to America, just after the Independence had been signed.

"Which part of Eire?" asked Carriage. He wanted to know, to see if he was somewhat related to the woman before him.

Lyra had a dumb look on her face. She thought about the things that she had heard about her family tree. It had taken a moment for the light to go off in her head. She answered the Druid, "My family is from the northeast part of Eire." Her family were part of the McDonald clan.

Varg glanced over to his grandfather with a questioning look upon his face, which brought Carriage to answer, "My family is from the Midwest of Eire. Nowhere close to where her family lived."

"Good," answered the strong man in the room. "Good to know that I would not be marrying into my mother's family. My father's beliefs were that new blood coming into the family; is better than old blood. Just like we have done with our animals."

Lyra knew about animals. Her grandparents had a ranch of their own and heard things from her grandfather. Of what to do and what not to do about the animals that they raised. But to be compared to one that was another thing altogether. Which brought an angry glare upon her eyes which Varg had noticed.

"Don't worry, lassie. There is no way I will ever compare you to an animal. Because you are worth much more than anything else that I have ever owned. You see. Women are the only things in life that could ever give their men heirs and through those heirs. A part of the bloodlines could live forever. So, in a sense, I live forever because of that heir."

Lyra shivered. Realizing for the first time since she was dropped into the past that her free will is no longer hers to control. But the one that she would have to call husband in three days’ time.

"You must know from where I have come from. I was able to say yes or no about my well-being," spoke Lyra with heat in her words and in her eyes, which spoke of his future death.

Varg laughed off what he saw and said, "Well, I am going to tell you this, lassie. You will have free will ruling beside me once we are married, but you will have no free rein over me."

He walked closer to her where he could see her eyes, which seemed to pop out as he stepped even closer to her. "I will be straight forward, my dear. If I want to have you in my bed, that is where you will be." He stopped once he realized how dangerous it could be for her but still went on to say, "Other than that, you will have a say within the lands that I rule. Outside that, I have no say so of the goings-on in other lands for others rule. They are all different."

Lyra closed her eyes. Inside, she knew that he was right, as the words seem to hit her hard, and she replied, "I understand."

"Good." Then, he turned and started walking towards the Hut's door, calling out, "Take good care of her for me grandfather. I will send a servant to help with her bath, and other the things that she may need for the night."

Carriage spoke, "As you wish, grandson."

Then, the door opened and closed while the two people heard boots upon the stone walkway as they moved away from the Hut. It was when Lyra opened her eyes and looked at the older man before her that she saw he had a sad look upon his face.

"What now?" asked Lyra. Her voice sounded almost hollow.

Carriage sighed. "Now, we wait on the servant who will get us some hot water for your tea and bath. Which you will drink and soak. Then, you will get ready for your bed, and you will sleep the rest of the night away. In the morning, the servant will come in and help you get ready, and you will join us for breakfast." With a deep breath, he asked, "Any questions?"

Lyra glanced into the Druid’s eyes so she could see what he was thinking as she asked, "Yes. What year am I in?"

The man before her nearly fell off the edge of the bed that he had been sitting on when the woman before him had asked him such a question. He answered, "You are in what the Monks at the local church would call 836, the year of the Lord."

"Interesting," gasped out the young woman.

Lyra groaned inwardly and hit her head against the wall. It started to hurt, not realizing it was solid enough to hurt. She realized then that she just missed the first known attack. That the Vikings had with Scotland by thirty years. She was about 1,167 years into the past; from her own time.

She had read and watched movies about time travel. Not only that, but she had traveled through both, time and space. Because she was living in Deer Park, Washington in the United States of America. Then she had found herself in an unknown part of Scotland, in the year 836. How was she going to live, knowing that she could never go back home?

Carriage had noticed the woman's skin had gotten paler from the statement that he had made. "From the looks of things, it sounds like the answer to that I had given you was not the one that you wanted to hear?"

"No, it wasn't."

"Why was that?"

"You're not going to believe me. Even I am having a hard time believing it myself." She gave the older man a look, the kind that made him scared for her. "But it seems that Thor has taken me far and away from my home. I am from over a thousand years into the future and I have no way of going back there; even if I wanted to." As she said this, a few tears had leaked from eyes. "I miss what family I have left," stated Lyra.

Carriage groaned. He was not happy about what he had heard. And then, he asked, "Is Thor even your father?"

Lyra laughed dryly. It sounded way too hollow. "I don't even remember who my father was, but I know that his family was once of Vikings. So I may or may not be related to Thor." She then looked away from the elder man with a longing look in her eyes. "So I just don't really know."

Carriage saw that the woman before him was losing her self-control. She was nearing the edge of despair. He then pulled out his leather bag from his side and opened it, to find what he was looking for. He usually carries herbs and other things that would help other people's illnesses. Furthermore, he found some things that he is going to put into her tea. Passionflower, chamomile flower, lavender, catnip, rosemary, peppermint, spearmint, licorice root, and stevia.

He also fished out a bowl, molded and then ground all the ingredients together. He was waiting for the hot water be put into a cup; for her tea, and maybe some in the bath as well. He glanced up and saw that Lyra was looking at what he was doing. He noticed that she was interested in what he was putting together.

"From the way that you are watching me, you have not seen something like this before, have you?"

Lyra gave a small smile. She became shy as she has been found out by her spying skills that she was seeing the man do before her. "Sadly no, but I have read about people doing something like that." She glanced away, trying to hide the redness of her cheeks as she went on to say, "I have not seen it with my own eyes before."

"Do you even know what I have put into the bowl?” asked the Druid, who seemed to sound skeptical of the knowledge that he was getting from the lady before him.

With a small smile upon her lips, she answered, "Just the chamomile flower and the lavender. Which I know that it helps with the calming of the stomach and the lavender helps to calm down the person. Sadly, that is all that I know first-hand."

Carriage gave an awarding smile. "Well, that is something to start with." He gave her a pet upon her arm. "I will help you understand more in the future. Since you will be stuck here for an awfully long time; if you are willing to learn more that is?"

With a heartwarming smile, Lyra answered, "I would like that very much, Carriage."

After a few minutes had passed, a servant woman came in with some hot water and a cup. Carriage put a couple of spoonfuls of his mixture into the cup and then sent the rest of it into the bath water.

Once everything was set up. He left the room and called out for one of the dogs. Which he had suggested from earlier that evening to guard Lyra. Then he made his way back to the Great Hall.

As Lyra drank her tea. While she waited for the servant to be done with the bath. She brought one of her hands up to her arm to rub for warmth. It was when she felt something upon her fingers. Something that she had never felt upon her person; she then pulled her hand away, for her to see her fingers. Once her eyes were focused enough to see. She saw black sand looking substance, along with some glitter along with it.

A few words had escaped her lips as she looked at the black glittered sand and whispered ever so softly, "Stardust."

It was then that it had finally hit Lyra Luhr. She knew then that she had really traveled through time and space, to be where she was. The shock alone seemed to tire her out. But knew from experience that once her head had hit the bed, she would be wide awake. She just hoped that the hot bath would help her even further. Lyra then drank the rest of her tea, took her bath and then went to bed. She was able to find her inner darkness, for the second time that night.