As Queen Íssla had done at the wedding feast when she bestowed the gift ofmir glirupon Elfi, Luna fluttered her long, slender fingers like softly falling flakes of snow, bathing Njáll in brilliant, lustrous light.
“I grant you theLjósálfarmagic ofSkógahjarta—the Heart of the Forest.” She placed a glowing hand upon Njáll’s chest, gazing up at him with sparkling emerald eyes. “Should you ever be wounded, seek refuge in the woods, where this verdantLjósálfarmagic will heal you.”
Rising up on booted toes, she pressed a kiss to his stunned lips. “And now thatLjósálfarmagic flows in your lupine blood, you may come with me toÁlfheimfor tonight’s winter solstice feast.” She wrapped her arms around his thick neck, the flowing sleeves of her deep green gown fluttering over his black wolfskin cloak. “And we can build a moonstone cottage in theÍsilskógaForest which Queen Íssla has offered us as a wedding gift.”
Njáll’s dark eyes widened in awe as realization dawned. “You will wed me?”
When she nodded, he swept her up in his sinewy arms and swirled her with joy. Setting her gently down upon the snow, he swooped down and claimed a fierce, feral kiss. As if remembering they were among others—including theLjósálfarqueen—he recovered, released Luna from his passionate embrace, and rumbled with deep laughter. “Thank all the gods, you finally said yes.” He kissed her pearlescent hand. “Luna, I cannot wait to make you my wife. And I vow to spend the rest of my life devoted only to you.”
Still clutching Luna’s hand, Njáll bowed before the queen. “My queen, I am eternally grateful for the generous wedding gift.” He straightened and smiled at Luna. “We shall bevery happy together, living in a forest ofÁlfheim.”
Queen Íssla positively glowed. “It is my pleasure. And I shall bring you there when we cross the crystal bridge.Ísilskóga—the Moonlit Forest—borders theÍsilwenSpring, whose curative waters Luna often wields through her magic ofnen glir.”
Deep green scales ofhisfrostdragonarmor shimmering with icy silver, Lugh gallantly offered his elbow to theLjósálfarqueen. “Allow me to escort you, Queen Íssla. We’ll crosslaForêt du Loupand travel toÁlfheimfrom the portal of the waterfall cave.”
Arm in arm, flanked by royal guards, Lugh and the queen led them all through the dense forest toward the Mermaid Cove.
* * * *
Sunlight danced on the waves of the Elandrian Sea, its vivid turquoise a vibrant bluish green. Atop a towering cliff in the distance, a white castle with turrets and towers glistened like crystal. “There isMiralir—Lyre of the Sea,made of shimmering moonstone. The castle I bequeathed to Elfi and Njörd.” Íssla pointed to the magnificent ivory fortress as she spoke to Skadi and Skjöld. “And this is your moonstone cottage.”
Atop the opalescent walls of the small white abode, a high peaked silver metal roof glinted in the last rays of the setting sun beneath a canopy of lush green trees. On either side of the pearlized grey ashwood entrance door, dark green vines with moonflowers in bloom climbed an intricately woven white trellis. Retrieving an ornate silver key from the frosteddragonscaleleather belt at her waist, the queen unlocked the curved front door and ushered them inside.
“There is no furniture yet,” Íssla explained, leading them into a large room with glass windows shaped like half-moons which offered a glorious view of Lyrian Lake. And there—along the eastern shore—was a small cluster of magnificent trees, laden with frosted starfruit.
At the spectacular sight of the incandescent trees and sparkling fruit, Skadi’s eyes widened with surprised delight.
“Though the kitchen is small, there are carved moonstone shelves to hold plenty of supplies.” Íssla gestured to the adjoiningkitchen, which was more of a graceful curved nook off the central area than a separate chamber. “And there are four sleeping quarters, two on each side of the long corridor.” She pointed down the hall that extended from the spacious, light-filled room where they all now stood.
Skadi squeezed Skjöld’s hand, her pale blue eyes shining like the aquamarine gem in the wedding ring on her slender finger. “This is beautiful. I will love living here.”
“Come, everyone. Luna and Lugh have a splendid feast prepared,” the queen said cheerfully, handing Skadi the key to their new home with a gracious, generous smile. “Let’s follow them to their seaside cottage. It’s not far.”
* * * *
They feasted onfrostfinsnapper andglimmerfishfrom the Elandrian Sea, dark green kale streaked with silver, and roasted golden carrots with glazed honey and crushedmoonhazelnuts. Seated in carved chairs of pale wood tufted with dark green silk around a matching oval table, they drank earthy golden wine made from lusciousLjósálfargrapes.
“The nourishing food and cleansing water ofÁlfheimwill restore—or even enhance—your magic,” Luna said to Njáll as he wolfed down the tenderfrostfinsnapper. She beamed at Íssla. “I am truly grateful that our generous queen has offered us theÍsilskógaForest where we can build our home.” She leaned against Njáll’s brawny arm and smiled teasingly at her olderbroðir. “Now Lugh must find a bride to live in this cottage with him.”
Lugh chuckled and raised his silver goblet. “To Elfi and Njörd, Skadi and Skjöld, and Luna and Njáll. May you always be as joyous as this wondrousJólinÁlfheim.”
While he savored the rich, fruity flavor of the mellow golden wine, Skjöld cast his appreciative gaze over Lugh and Luna’s lovely dwelling. Near a table topped with a bouquet of plump white roses, a moon-shaped window opened onto a small lake shelteredby dense, dark trees. Behind the moonstone cottage, illuminated in silvery glow, two serene white swans floated on the moonlit lake.
Skadi leaned over to kiss his cheek and whispered in his ear. “I would love our home to look like this. Simple, yet elegant. Surrounded by the beauty of nature.” She sighed with pleasure. “Just divine.”
Luna rose from her carved chair and returned with a flaky golden pie, which she placed in the center of the table. “I learned this from yourMaman.” Affection laced her warm, velvety voice. “Une tarte aux mirabelles,”Luna announced with pride. “Like the wild plum tarts of thePays de Caux…” Her dark green eyes sparkled in the warm, beeswax glow of the candles. “But made with the golden plums ofÁlfheim.”
A ripple of laughter flowed from Elfi. “I remember you madeune tarte aux mirabelleswhen Njörd and I visited this past summer.” She inhaled the sweet, appetizing scent. “Rich, decadent, and delicious.”
Luna placed a platter of small cakes topped with honey, fruit, and nuts. “Oatcakes with snowberries, moondrops, and silver beechnuts.” Luna smiled at her rapt guests. “And this…” she added, excitement dancing in her eyes as she looked at Elfi, “…is the frosted starfruit I promised to serve you on the winter solstice.”
From the kitchen, she brought a small crystal bowl for each guest—filled with shimmering silver fruit, swirled in enticing, icy cream. “It has a delicate mint flavor like no other.” She watched with bated breath as everyone scooped a spoonful and slid the frosted starfruit into their smiling mouths.
And beamed with proud delight at the murmur of appreciative hums.
After everyone had sampled thetarte aux mirabellesand cakes topped with honey and fruit, Skjöld noticed Njáll speaking quietly with Lugh near the window overlooking the moonlit lake. Lugh nodded, disappeared down the hall, and returned a few moments later. He handed something shiny to Njáll, who secured it in the leather pouch at his waist.
Crossing the polished ashwood floor, Lugh addressed the guests, who were preparing to depart. “Njáll would like to see theÍsilskógaForest once more before we return toChâteau Blanc.”
