Chapter 10: THE WEDDING

Lyra Luhr was in her hut, along with five women that were in the Great Hall. Two were giving her a bath while the other three were making her a set of dresses for her to wear that night. She was watching the three women closely. Lyra had no clue that women of the age were able to get many things done before the deadline. Even without the aid of technology. None of her history teachers or television programs. Have ever explained in detail of what people were capable of doing.

Lyra was being washed in a tub of hot water. While one woman was scrubbing her hair, and another poured more water upon her body. She felt like a spoiled princess, from the brutal pampering she was receiving. Her whole body felt sore, she could not remember a time when she felt this way. Then a thought came to her, it was when she had first started to ride a horse. Lyra had felt every muscle and bone hurt for days after.

She sighed in contempt when she noticed that the two women had walked away from her. They had started helping the other three with the dress. This caused Lyra to look at the dress closely and noticed that they were using animal hides to make the dress.

She asked in a surprised voice, “Why are you using the hides?”

One of the women, who seemed to be in charge, stated, “It is the most natural thing. A woman must present herself to her husband as a natural gift.” When the woman saw the lost look in Lyra’s eyes, the woman groaned, “You are lost? It must because you’re Thor’s daughter.” The woman glared at Lyra. “We believe in all things of the earth to bring life to our people. As such, men treat the earth like they would with a woman.”

Another went on from there, a younger one. “Just like us: we give men children, and the earth gives them food.”

The first woman spoke again as she was finishing her portion of the dress. “Men also provide the woman warmth, like the sun.” Lyra could see that she was a few years older than her, but she had passion behind her words. “Men hunt, like the moon. They war against each other, like the stars!” It was then when that Lyra knew this woman to be a captured slave from another culture, the type that still believed that the sky was more than just what it was.

Lyra asked in a gasp, “Roman?”

The woman laughed. “Close, Greek. My name is Celeste; I was a daughter of a merchant.”

Lyra glanced at the woman known as Celeste and got a good look at her. She had long, curly black hair that came down to her lower back. Her eyes looked velvet in what light that Lyra could see. Celeste’s waist was as thin as a starving model’s, and she had long, flowing tanned legs. Even her fingers were thin and long.

“Why are you doing here?” asked Lyra.

The velvet-eyed woman sighed. “My father was trading in the area called Wessex. Somewhere south of here. Varg was with another Barbarian leader when they took my father’s ship.” She took a deep breath. “I was traveling with him to meet my betrothed. They wanted my father to trade with them instead. They were holding me until they were happy with the arrangements.” Lyra saw that Celeste was incredibly sad. “Needless to say, that was last summer. I only get to see my father about every three months or so.”

The second woman spoke again, “Celeste, stop making this day even harder on Lyra!”

This caused the woman from the future to ask, “What about you? Where were you from?”

Celeste answered, “Her name is Ruth, and she’s from Wessex. After a war party, they found her at five springs old.” The woman known as Ruth gave Celeste a glare as the Greek woman went on. “She has been living with one of the families ever since and has been spoken for by one of the young warriors.”

“At least I will be wed myself!”

Lyra saw that Ruth had dirty blond hair and brown eyes; she may be young, but she was not beautiful—not while she had a bad attitude against other people.

“ENOUGH, Ruth,” yelled out a woman who had been giving Lyra a glare since the Great Hall. Something told Lyra to keep an eye on her.

“Why, Berra?” called out Ruth, who looked like she wanted to get into a fight.

Berra had a Viking build with thick arms and legs and curves to match. She had red-brown hair and hearted brown eyes. She was built for war, if Lyra had to guess.

“Because I said so,” growled out Berra.

Ruth became whiny. “Is it because you have always wanted Varg but became a chicken when you found out about his other form?”

Lyra was never so glad to be in a tub in her life until that moment. She really did not want to hear that another woman wanted her soon-to-be husband. But remembered that she was the only one that did not run away from him. After a few minutes had passed, everyone had glanced over towards Lyra.

“Oops,” sassed the Wessex known woman.

The one of the two that had been quiet now spoke up. “I think the two of you should leave.” She indicated to Ruth and Berra. “The lady has enough to deal with than your persistent bickering.” The two women got up from what they were doing and left the hut. Lyra hoped that they were not going back to the Great Hall. “Sorry, Lady. They do this each time that they’re together.”

Lyra just gave a small smile for her answer. The three remaining women went back to work. While lying back in her tub, Lyra noticed that all the women of the ancient world believe to be near to nature as possible. The way to living and dying. Even the act of marriage was an act of nature. It was as close to the Native American beliefs that it was borderline scary to Lyra. She enjoyed the fact that she did not have to put any makeup on or need to look glamorous for the pictures.

When Lyra was young, she envisioned her wedding to be a lot more than what was provided that day. She wanted her mother to be there, along with her friends; to share it with. She also had wanted to have photos, something to remember the day; nothing was invented yet.

One of the women had helped her out of the tub and helped to get dressed into the furs that had happened been busy with. The dress had ended up being one of the most comfortable things that Lyra had ever worn. It felt like an extra skin upon her body and warm.

The leather was tanned in color, while the fur was red/brown color, like autumn. It would take Lyra a while to get used to something like that. She had never worn anything like it before. The dress covered her neck, and it flowed down to her ankles. Her sleeves came down and covered half of her hands, the dress showed little curves.

Celeste saw the look that Lyra was giving to her dress and spoke up, “The men around here do not really care about how a woman looks if she is his. Vikings have simple ways of living. They do not have a problem with looks. But they really care about is the family that had come from or who was not a part of that said family.”

Lyra thought back about what she had found out about the surrounding men. It was far different from her time in 2003. It was just way too simple to think about. All the men from her time cared about was how a woman looked and acted and what their beliefs were. She really had no chance to be with anyone of her time. They only cared about whether a woman was thin with curves and had hardly a brain to use.

The longer that Lyra stayed in 836 A.D., the more she realized that there were more benefits for her to stay. There were no taxes to pay. No reason to hold a job, to make ends meet for the family. No worries about college or to make the grade. Things in 836 seemed to be much better.

There was a downside to the fantasy that Lyra had found her in. It was the fact that knowing that in some years within the future. There will be illnesses that would lead to many people's deaths. It was just something that she was not looking forward to. But hoped that it would not happen for the time that she was upon the Earth.

Once the women had seen that everything was ready for the wedding, they had left the bride alone. She was left alone within her own hut. Lyra let out a great big sigh. She had envisioned that her mother would be there for her but seeing that was not going to happen. She felt her eyes begin to sting, from the unshed tears that threatened to come down.

She knew that her mother might not have come to any wedding. Jane Luhr really hated leaving the house. Unless she had to go to work or other necessary shopping that was needed for the house. The young woman was heartbroken for her mother; she had no one else in her life, besides for Fred the dog.

Lyra sat down upon her bed, for the last time. She knew that it would no longer be her hut after the marriage. She was thinking back upon some Bible verses that may help calm down her nerves for the upcoming event. She was about to start a new chapter in her life, a life that was unlike what she had pictured for herself.

Lyra was starting to feel the butterfly effect within her lower part of her body. It was enough to make her feel nearly weightless. She was glad that she was sitting down. She feared that she may have fallen onto the ground. Because of the lightheadedness that she was experiencing.

“This must be some dream,” whispered Lyra, knowing that no one would hear her through the hut.

A knock sounded upon her door, and then a voice followed a moment after, “Lyra, are you ready?”

The young woman sighed; she knew that voice well. “I am, Father.”

The door opened, and the Norse God came walking in the hut, facing the woman who he had brought through time, “It’s time.”

Lyra closed her eyes for a moment before standing upon her own feet, walking towards the larger-than-life man. The two of them had shared a hug, before leaving the hut behind. Thor lifted his arm up and wrapped it around Lyra’s right arm.

While walking through the village. Lyra felt like they were moving towards the Great Hall, in a slow motion. She wondered if the world was simply moving just as slow. She glanced over the area. Where other people were still working. And saw that they seemed to be working faster than what was humanly possible. Her lungs started her to hurt from the whole thing. Until they walked through the front door of the massive building.

Lyra looked around and noticed that everyone was sitting in what looks like to be benches. The type that people could use to sit around a table lined up on each side of the building. Where all the people were facing towards the front, where the throne was placed. The chairs upon the platform of the throne were pushed towards the back wall. Making room for the wedding and the Druid overseeing the whole thing. The tables were also pushed up against the walls.

Lyra took a change and glanced towards her husband-to-be. And saw that he was also in bucked skinned and fur clothes. Which consist of pants and a shirt. She almost mistook him as a white man in Native American clothing. Thor had given a tug upon Lyra’s arm, to let her know that it was time. He started the walk, for the two of them, guiding her towards her fate. It was when she came up with one Bible verse that may help her walk down the aisle.

‘My heart is moved by a noble theme as I recite my verses to my king;

my tongue is the pen of a skillful writer.’

This caused Lyra to want to educate Varg Drake about the Bible, she feared that it may never happen. She may try later when things were good between them. After their marriage had truly started.

‘You are the most handsome of men;

grace flows from your lips Therefore, God has blessed you forever.’

She was looking at him, after remembering that verse. She believed that Varg was handsome. He had muscles and the way he had protected her from the loch monster, it made her feel so good to be around him. She sighed inwardly; she knew that most women from her time would not believe him handsome. But the way he took the time to make sure that she was alright. It made him the most beautiful man alive.

While she had slept next to him, she felt like nothing that she had ever felt before. Varg had made her believe that the instant had taken place years ago, not moments ago. He was warm in all things living and caring. Lyra could tell from his actions that he cares for her; his actions have loud volumes.

‘Mighty warrior, strap your sword at your side.

In your majesty and splendor—

in your splendor ride triumphantly in the cause of truth, humility, and justice.’

It was then that Lyra noticed a sword at Varg’s left hip. She knew that he was a warrior and that he could not live without a weapon at his side. She knew her history well enough to know that it was safer for a man to have a weapon at their sides. Even at a wedding, it was a custom for the man to do so, to protect the woman from danger. Lyra remembered that from history that men would use a wedding to as a diversion to cause wars.

‘May your right hand show your awe-inspiring acts.

Your arrows pierce the hearts of the king’s enemies;

the peoples fall under you.’

She knew from the act of him saving her. He ordered them to throw the arrows upon the monster that had her, even though he was not telling them in human form. Varg still did everything that he could to do what it takes to make her feel safe.

‘Your throne, God, is forever and ever;

the scepter of Your kingdom is a scepter of justice.

You love righteousness and hate wickedness;

therefore God, your God, has anointed you with the oil of joy more than your companions.’

Lyra believed that the one true God had given Varg his rightful place: as King of his people. For he seemed blessed. He seemed to be a part of what is right with life, and he would fight against the evil that he was able to do.

‘Myrrh, aloes, and cassia perfume all your garments;

from ivory palaces harps brings you joy.

Kings’ daughters are among your honored women;

the queen adorned with gold from Ophir, stands at your right hand.’

Lyra smiled within; even without the riches to show or the grand palaces, he knew his people well. She glanced around the Great Hall, while still making her way to Varg. Every one of his people would always be there for him.

‘Listen, daughter, pay attention and consider:

forget your people and your father’s house, and the king will desire your beauty.’

After remembering those bits of words, she tried to fight the blush that was making its way upon her face. She knew that she had to forget her family and friends; they were many years away from where she is breathing. She could tell that Varg wanted her; otherwise, they would not be getting married.

‘Bow down to him, for he is your lord.

The daughter of Tyre, the wealthy people, will seek your favor with gifts.’

Lyra hated that she would have to bow down to a man, she was a daughter of Thor and people would have to come find her. They will try to be her friend or was it known as allegiance, during the era that she found herself in.

‘In her chamber, the royal daughter is all glorious, her clothing embroidered with gold.

In colorful garments, she is led to the king;

after her, the virgins, her companions, are brought to you.

They are led in with gladness and rejoicing;

they enter the king’s palace.’

All of that was not true for Lyra Luhr, but what was happening to her. She could never picture it anything different. She could not picture it with anyone else, within her life; other than the man before her.

‘Your sons will succeed your ancestors;

you will make them princes throughout the land.

I will cause your name to be remembered for all generations;

therefore, the peoples will praise you forever and ever.’

Lyra smiled as she remembered the ending of Psalm 45, for it seemed fitting for the event, their wedding. She found herself stopping at the end of the alias. Standing next to Thor, while they were facing Carriage and Varg; before them. She had to wait until the men talk it over. She had believed that the marriage of the past was nothing more than a business agreement. The historians had only found this practice in royal weddings.

Carriage stood before them in his charcoal gray robes. The Druid said in a loud clear voice, “We are gathered here on this night to witness this occasion that we all had thought that will never happen.” Many of the people within the building had laughed at what Carriage had said. The Druid went on to say, “Who here is giving this lady away?”

Thor spoke up. “I am.” He then turned towards Lyra and gave her a smile and a kiss upon her cheek before he handed her over to Varg, who reached out and used his right hand to hold onto her right as Thor stepped aside and stood a few feet away from the wedding platform and watched as the wedding went on.

Carriage went on to say, “As mother Earth, father Sun, and sister Moon holds witness, we shall continue. We ask for the blessings of the north, south, east, and west. We ask permission from the elements of earth, fire, water, and air.”

He pulled out a thick strip of leather, from his leather bag that he had been carrying around. Waving a hand towards his Grandson, he continued, “Before us, we have Varg Drake. A great warrior leader that we for our people.” Carriage then waved another hand towards the woman before him. “We also have Lyra Luhr, daughter to the God of Thunder.”

With both of his hands still in the air, he asked, “Will anyone who holds witness declare any different?” When no one had spoken up except with a few coughs from the crowd, he went on to say, “As this man and this woman hold hands…” He grabbed their hands and wrapped the leather strap around their wrists. “Taispeáin do nasc ó do chraiceann.”

Lyra looked down towards their joined hands and saw something that was not there before. Instead of the leather, she saw three different colors of ribbons alighted from their skins. One of them was gold, which was the foundation of their wedding. She was surprised because gold meant God. The next one was a midnight shade of blue; it stood for the groom and what he was bringing into the marriage. The last one was a pure shade of white; it stood for the bride and her purity that she was giving to her husband.

Carriage gave Lyra a surprised look on his face. “You are united under all that have witnessed this day.” He brought his hand up for all to see. “These two are now married. You may exchange armbands with one another.”

The ribbons that were upon their hands had glowed once more. Before fading away within their skins and were able to move their hands, once more. Varg had reached towards his sword and moved something. Which happened to be lying upon the handle of the weapon, where an armband was hidden. Lyra was able to see it and saw the emblem of a howling wolf with dragon wings on each side of the wolf. He then placed the band around her wrist and pushed it up her arm. Where it was visible for all to see that she was Varg’s wife.

When it was time for Lyra to give Varg an armband for him to wear. She glanced towards her father with a worried look on her face. Thor gave a wicked smile and stepped forward, he handed her one, to give to her husband. She found the band had an image of a woman with lightning surrounding her. Lyra believed that it was her, with lightning around her. Because of her Father being the Thunder God.