For The Sake of Revenge

II~Chapter 14: The Wedding

I twirled softly in my dress, testing its airiness. It had turned out nicer than what I expected. It was gorgeous and it was almost scandalous how different it was from the typical fashion here. The neckline was wide and deep, the sleeves were see through. I think I would have been seen as a harlot if not accounting for how gorgeous and elegant the dress was. Even Millicent approved.

"You have strange ideas, Yasmeen," Millicent remarked. "But it turned out nicely."

"Thank you," I told her. "It wouldn't have been possible without you."

"It is your day," Millicent said. "Your husband will think you are beautiful regardless. You will be fine."

"Yes," I agreed. "I think so too."

*

I didn't understand a single thing that the wisewoman said out loud before the congregation. At first it was strange because I was walking alone in the middle of a large circle of people, barefoot, on the cold shores of the Øresund. But then the strange, unfamiliar ways of Ivar's people was washed away by Ivar himself. He stood there, tall and proud, in pure black, ceremonial armor and a grim face. You wouldn't think it was his wedding day. But his eyes were a different story. They were brighter than ever and they were soft, only for me. His gaze made me feel like half a world full of women didn't matter if they were not me.  But his face warned me that approaching him was unwise. The paradox was so like him.

Still, I came to him and still, his eyes received me and it may have been my imagination but I was sure his eyes were glassy. Cute. I myself felt emotional and I wasn't sure why. Was this my dream wedding? No. I always dreamed that my wedding would be in some fancy Hilton hotel, with civilized people and fine cuisine. I always imagined my husband to be some banker, with a pot belly, a friendly, if boring, disposition, and book intelligence. Not anyone good looking or outrageously outlandish. Nothing of the sort. Someone average, like me. Or so I seem to think.

Still, despite Ivar being the exact opposite of the image I had in mind of a future husband, and the messed up order in how my life proceeded, I still regretted nothing. 

And that is how I missed every single word that the wise woman said. The feel of Ivar's large, warm hand covering mine, the nearness of him, and the auspicious air of my wedding day made me unable to focus on the poor woman. Only when it was time for my verbal consent did Ivar give my hand a quick squeeze. In a daze, I hastily answered;

"I consent to this marriage."

The wise woman nodded with approval and turned to Ivar, who repeated the same words. The wisewoman handed us a cup of sweet berry mead to me first, who drank from it, leaving a carmine stain where my lips were. Ivar gently received the cup from me, turning it and smirking slightly at the stain of my lips. I was slightly embarrassed. 

"Sorry," I mouthed to him apologetically but he drank it anyways, never once letting his eyes stray from my wobbly gaze. This man was unreal. I flushed even more.

"Kiss your woman, Ivar," the wisewoman commanded. "Wrap her in the furs of your honor! Show your clansmen that she is yours to protect."

"Yaz-mien," the wisewoman turned to address me, "Accept the kiss and cloak from your husband--for good omen! Show your fidelity and your love."

No need to be told twice. Ivar elegantly tossed the furs from his shoulder over mine and brought me closer till he was able to properly bend and press an 'R'-rated kiss to my lips that had me melting like jelly into his chest. I could hear whoops around me  and raunchy words being thrown at us before Ivar pulled away and raised his fist, as though in victory. 

I suppose it was a bit of a victory. Every time we tried to solidify our marriage, some obstacle or another showed up; first it was Aela's raiding party, then it was my secrets, then it was Harald. Really, it was a bit of a victory.