Legendary

Our timing could not be better. We got to the house while everybody who lived there was still upstairs getting dressed and nobody else had arrived yet. We shared a crisp high five when we walked in and discovered this. Alfred smiled at us conspiratorially. "The cake was delivered an hour ago," he told us. "And your flowers, Miss Alex, are in the library by the fireplace."

"Thank you, Alfred," we chorused, and Eira yipped agreement.

"It looks wonderful," I said, looking around as he took my wrap. As usual, there were pine boughs on the stair rails, ornamented with small blown glass balls and ribbons, with a wreath on the door. This year it was made from pine and holly, with a deep crimson velvet bow. I could smell spiced cider and bayberry candles as we moved into the library. We took the opportunity to present Alfred's cufflinks.

"Good heavens," he said, brushing them lightly with his fingers. "Thank you, Master Damian, Miss Alex. These are extraordinary."

"Just like you, Alfred," Damian said. "They're just the smallest token of our esteem for you," and we beamed at him. He looked momentarily stunned. We had a choice between the cider and mulled wine; we both chose the cider, and we quickly pressed our rings into Alfred's hand as we heard quick, light footsteps on the stairs. I smiled as my grandma walked into the library, accompanied by a man I didn't recognize. He knew me, though. He smiled and held out his arms, and all of a sudden I did know him. My grandpa, who had died when I was just starting grade school.

"Lexie, lass," he said, his dimly remembered but instantly familiar voice said as I charged over for a hug. "It's so good to see you again. You look lovely." A teasing note came into his voice. "Last time I saw you you had scabby knees and were just losing your baby teeth. Your hair was in pigtails." Damian laughed, and I let go long enough to introduce him.

"Grandpa, this is my husband, Damian Wayne. Darling, this is my grandpa, Alexander Baird." My grandpa took Damian's measure quickly but thoroughly, and I gave my grandma a hug. She admired my dress as the men chatted, and I asked how their flight had been.

"Oh, it's always nice, thanks to your family, dear," she said briskly. She looked lovely, wearing flowing bronze palazzo pants and a lacy blue sweater that set off her blonde hair beautifully. We talked a little, then my children and J thudded down the stairs. After that, the floodgates opened. Mark and Daniel and my parents came down, followed by Bruce, Martha Sr and Thomas, and guests began to arrive: Uncle Bucky came with Aunt Becca and Grandpa George, my fellow valkyries, Karen, Aslyn, and Margaret, Steve and Emma, Ann and Tony, Bruce Banner, Thor, Sif, Magni, Modi, and Torunn, Loki, Barbara and Dick, Tim and Jason, Hawkeye and Natasha. Sigurd and Torburn found Eira and started a mumbly sort of conversation. Damian and I worked the crowd, making introductions when necessary. It was wonderful to see everybody. I heard Damian thanking Modi and Magni for getting me to the healers in time. My mom and Sif got along like a house afire, having been slightly acquainted with each other the first time around. Barbara had some book ideas for me based on new releases that were coming out. I was having a great time, so much fun that I was as startled as everybody else when Alfred rang a little bell. We looked around, surprised, to see him standing by the fireplace. Oh, right. I wound my way through the guests to quickly pluck the bright red roses and calla lilies out of the vase and stand at Alfred's right hand. Damian situated himself at Alfred's left, and I quickly fastened the holly sprig to his lapel. Oops. I'd meant to do that earlier but forgot. Oh, well.

"With the family and their friends, another family, present, Miss Alex and Master Damian wished to renew their wedding vows. Almost all of us missed their second marriage, since it was a rather spur of the moment affair at the courthouse." His voice carried just a whiff of censure as he spoke over the excited murmur.

"As Theodore Parker said, 'it takes years to marry completely two hearts, even the most loving and well assorted. A happy wedlock is a falling in love. Young persons think love belongs to the brow-haired and crimson cheeked. So it does for its beginning. But the golden marriage is part of love which the bridal day knows nothing of.... Such a large and sweet fruit is marriage that is needs a long summer to ripen, and then a long winter to mellow and season it.' And so has it been with Miss Alex and Master Damian.

"I have known Master Damian since he was ten years old, newly introduced to his father, and it has been my pleasure to observe him grow into an overall wise and thoughtful man, perhaps best known for his love of animals, generosity, and sheer abilities. I made the acquaintance of Miss Alex as Master Damian was growing out of his bratty phase, and recognized from the beginning that she was quite a special young lady, one of the few people on this earth for whom he exerted himself. Charming, smart, and strong, she was his equal even then. And when they returned to the city from the institutions from which they were educated, they found in each other their ideal match, their strengths complimentary and their weakness supported by the other. In Master Damian, Miss Alex found someone who would treasure her for her excellent qualities, of which skill, compassion and a lively mind are crown jewels, as well as someone who provided unceasing love and support as an anchor. And that love and support was returned in full, as Miss Alex tempered Master Damian's... most assertive personality traits and saw within him a man I believe that not even he believed he could be. They had two lovely and gifted children together and a charmed and rich life until they were parted by death.

"And when they were reunited by the Great Return, their love was as deep and and full as it had been before. Then there was...an incident, of which nothing more needs to be said, since they have mended their estrangement, their love stronger and more encompassing for having been tested. On their wedding day, they pledged to love each other in sickness and in health, and for better or worse. The past year has tested those vows, but their eternal, enduring love for one another has prevailed. Before this company, they renew their vows of love and honor through times of triumph and despair, in health and injury, in peace and war, for the rest of their lives and thereafter." He smiled at us and handed Damian a ring. Damian took my hand, warm in mine. When we first got married, it was a little chilly from his nerves.

"Do you, Damian Wayne, pledge to love and support this woman to the best of your ability, to provide a shield from the storm and a sword in her defense, through times of bounty and privation, through everything that fate puts in your path?"

"Upon my soul," Damian said, his deep voice resonant. His eyes sparkled warmly as he slid the ring on my hand. My brows drew together; it was a lot heavier than I was used to. I did a double-take as I glanced at it; he'd given me a whole new set, engagement ring and all.

"Do you, Alixandryia Barnes, pledge to love and support this man to the best of your ability, to provide a shield from the storm and a sword in his defense--although hopefully not literally-- through times of bounty and privation, through everything that fate puts in your path?"

"With all my heart," I managed to say, my eyes filling. Damian's bright blue eyes blurred too as I slid his new band onto his finger and kissed it. He lifted his hand to my face and smoothed away a joyful tear, sniffing deeply himself.

"Victor Hugo wrote, "The future belongs far more to the heart than to the mind. Love is the one thing that can fill and fulfill eternity. The infinite calls for the inexhaustible.

Love partakes of the soul, being of the same nature. Like the soul, it is the divine spark, incorruptible, indivisible, imperishable. It is the fiery particle that dwells in us, immortal and infinite, which nothing can confine and nothing extinguish. We feel its glow in the marrow of our bones and see its brightness reaching to the depths of heaven.

Oh, love, adoration, the rapture of two spirits which know each other, two hearts which are exchanged, two looks which interpenetrate! You will come to me, will you not, this happiness! To walk together in solitude! Blessed and radiant days! I have sometimes thought that now and then moments my be detached from the lives of angels to enrich the lives of men.

God can add nothing to the happiness of those who love except to make it unending. After a lifetime of love an eternity of love is indeed an increase."

"And in that spirit, in the fullness of the love that animates the one for the other, it is my profound pleasure to ask you to seal your vows with a kiss, to acknowledge your union before this wealth of family and friends." Finally. A little laugh escaped me, and I turned my face up to Damian, like a sunflower following the sun. We shared a light kiss, then beamed at each other.

"Ladies and gentlemen, Alex and Damian."

And the room exploded with applause and laughter. I kissed Alfred's cheek and Damian gave him a hearty hug before he slipped away, then everyone came forward with congratulations and to express their surprise and delight at our unexpected ceremony. We all got a look at the new rings; Damian had chosen for me quite a glorious set; an inner and outer band for each ring, the inner being a warm rose gold and the outer a sheath of icy white gold set with diamonds. The edges of both bands were milgrained and tiny diamonds set at intervals between them, connecting them. Up at the top, below the center diamond, dainty scrollwork filled the space between the two bands. Tiny pave diamonds ran up the shank and around two small side diamonds and up the outside of the setting for the center diamond, which looked to be larger than a half carat and less than a carat. A little large, but it was exquisite. Snuggled up to the side was a thin wedding band with little winking diamonds on the top half; I could see that it was a little different but didn't want to investigate it just then. I wanted to see the inscription I was sure was there but I didn't want to discover it in a crowd.

Then the bell rang again, this time for dinner, and we all trooped upstairs to the ballroom. Off to the side was a generous dinner for each of the dogs, the bowls set on little pedestals for ease of eating, nicely arranged so that each dog had some distance from the others. For the humans, several round tables were set up, with a seating chart near the door so that we could find our places easily. Alfred, a stickler for the rules, had separated Damian and me even though we'd just renewed our vows. Oh, well. I was at a table with Uncle Steve, Dagny, Mark, Grandpa Alex, and Aslyn. I got to the table first and switched a place card quickly, placing Mark between my friends. Neither of them had met him, I didn't think. I caught Alfred's beady eye as he observed this shenanagan and smiled blandly. The others got to the table too quickly for him to do anything about it. I smiled cheerily at my tablemates. My switch put Steve and Grandpa Alex by each other, upsetting the boy-girl seating arrangement, but that was ok. They seemed to strike up an immediate camaraderie. But Grandpa diverted his attention to me.

"That was a lovely surprise," he said to me as we passed dishes around the table. "Especially since I missed your first wedding. You make a lovely bride, Lexie." As I'd expected, Grandma had given him a summary of Damian and me, but he wanted more detail to satisfy himself about the worthiness of my husband. Aslyn, across the table, was happy to share some stories from when we were teenagers, to the amusement of all. Even I laughed at them; there's no friend like an old friend. I heard Steve say to Grandpa that he'd missed all of this too, and they took to a few comparisons of their respective afterlives; Grandpa had gone to a C of E approved heaven. I barely spoke to Dagny; she and Mark spent a lot of time in conversation. I smirked. Dinner was delicious. Grandpa remarked on it.

"It was spectacular, even for Alfred," I agreed, and explained his background concisely as the waiters he'd engaged for the evening whisked away our plates. "I suspect him of having house elves." Grandpa looked a little confused, and I explained the reference.

"Ah," he said, satisfied. "I'm almost done with Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone. That must come up later."

Alfred cleared his throat, and conversation hushed. A table with our wedding cake was wheeled in and I inhaled sharply. We'd asked for pale flowers on the cake to make up for the ones that had been left off our first cake, but this was so much better. It was a four tiered cake, but small, more for the height than the amount of cake involved. White roses and laurel leaves, silvered with an edible dust, rose from a small cluster of silvered pinecones to form a U at the front of the cake. On the sides of the tiers was a scene I recognized immediately: Fisherman's Bastion at night, the dome of the castle centered in one of the arches, glowing brightly. Just to the side was placed a silhouette of a man on one knee and a woman in a long coat leaning down to him, extending her hand. She even had her hair up, managing to suggest the hairstyle I'd had the night he had proposed marriage. On the flat top of the smallest layer was our monogram, picked out in silver. My dad immediately jumped up and took a couple of pictures of it. People got up for a closer look, and Grandpa and Steve wanted to know more about the image.

"Damian had to take a business trip to Europe and I went with him. Our last stop on the trip was Budapest, and I just adored the Bastion, so we'd gone to a concert on our last night there and went back after a late dinner, which was when he asked me to marry him." I shook my head, smiling at the memory. "He's quite romantic."

"It's amazing," Grandpa said. "The things they can do with cakes these days."

"It's beautiful," Steve said. "I wonder if Emma would like to go there."

"You should," I said. "It's such a romantic city." I waited for the crowd around the cake to thin out a bit before finding my husband and taking his hand.

"So was there really a bakery accident?"

"No," he said. "But I came up with the idea and wanted to surprise you."

"Mission: accomplished," I told him. "It's stunning and so romantic." Dad herded us over so he could take pictures of us with the cake, and then the top layer was whisked away by Alfred, to be frozen so we could have it on our next anniversary (right. We'd eat it the next time we felt especially romantic) and we cut the cake (from the back, I was reluctant to mess up the front) and fed each other little bites. This was an almond and orange cake, the flavors light and complementary, the cake moist and tender. Delicious. Then Alfred shooed us away and the cake was sliced and distributed, there being a choice between the almond/orange flavor and chocolate with a caramel buttercream filling. And champagne was served, not too dry.

When everybody was finished, we went downstairs again. Damian had gotten my Dad's communicator and we chose a couple of images, one from the ceremony and one from the cake cutting that we uploaded to the little projectors we'd gotten for favors. They were made so photos could be uploaded to the whole group of them at once, so it was quick and easy to close the boxes, stick on little bows, and take them in to everybody for distribution. Then there was a present exchange; those of us who were coming back the next day for Christmas reserved the bulk of our presents for then and opened ones from friends and those who had other plans. Then we moved around, chatting, and more champagne and a table with cookies and small cakes was brought in. There were small bags in green, gold, and red, so that everybody could take some home if they wanted, and the party broke up around midnight. Eira pranced off with Torburn and Sigurd, and she sent me an image of all three dogs sleeping in a pile, nice and warm and comfortable. She makes me laugh.

At home, Damian and I celebrated our vows at length. Taking a break, he opened a bottle of demi-sec Prosecco and brought in a dish of strawberries, feeding them to me as we sat up in bed, me leaning back against him, his arms around me. "You're such a good sport about the wine," I murmured around a bite of berry. "I know you like it dry."

He kissed my temple. "I've grown to like it over the years," he said. "I like giving you what you like, anyway, and a sweeter wine is nothing. I barely notice it, anyway. What's wine compared to the banquet that is you?" He tenderly stroked his fingers over my skin. "Your mouth is more intoxicating than the finest spirit, your skin velvety and soft. Your body is a paradise I crave losing myself in. Your mind and spirit draw me closer and more enchantingly than a siren's call."

"Damn," I said after I'd luxuriated in the warmth of his words a moment. "I'm never as eloquent, my darling." He laughed a little, soft puffs of air warming the nape of my neck. "I'll have to show you how much I treasure you." And I took our glasses, putting them and the dish of strawberries on the bedside table, before pushing my hands into his thick silky hair and drawing his face down for a deep, drugging kiss before straddling him and welcoming him inside me. We pressed together, moving very little, making it last.

Fortunately, we weren't expected at the house for brunch until late morning, which meant that we got more than a few hours of sleep and had time for a fun, soapy shower together before dressing more casually and heading out. In the air, I remembered something and took off my rings. The thicker band of the engagement ring had a heart with an A on one side and a D on the other. The thin wedding band had an infinity symbol. "Petal," he said, his voice low and warm, as he examined his ring. "This is wonderful. I love it. And look, a fingerprint, so you're always with me."

"My intent was to sort of brand you as mine, but your interpretation sounds better," I said, examining my rings more carefully, noting all the detail. "This is stunning."

"Look here," he said, taking the set from me. "They embedded tiny strong magnets in two places on the shank, so they don't have to be soldered together anymore." He gently parted them. "You can wear them singly or together as you please, but the wedding band won't slip around or knock against the engagement ring now."

"That's so clever," I said. "Now that I won't be wearing gloves in the lab regularly, I'll be wearing my engagement ring. It's so beautiful, Damian."

"It's as intricate and impressive and strong and dazzling as you are, Alixzandryia," he said, and slid the joined rings on my finger again. "And this way, nobody can miss that you're mine. Once you get going, everybody's going to want you. But I have first claim." He smirked.

I laughed. "The only claim," I said, and kissed him gently. Then the car landed and we drove the short distance to the manor.

The kids, J, Bucky, Dick and Barbara, Mark, and Daniel went skiing after brunch and the joy of unwrapping packages. That left Damian and me with Bruce, his parents, my folks, the rest of my grandparents, and Aunt Becca. We insisted that Alfred sit down and join the rest of the family. He did, once he placed a reasonably-sized log of ashwood in the fireplace and arranged holly, mistletoe, and pine boughs on and around it before sprinkling it with cider and some cloves. I sat up with a big grin on my face.

"King Thor brought this last night," he told me.

"A Yule log!" I exclaimed.

"Is it important?" asked Bruce.

"It's traditional," I temporized. It was important to me. "It's used to celebrate the return of the sun--remember, these days are the shortest of the year--and provide light and heat. It's part of the general celebration, and the last little bit of the log is saved to light the next Yule log. During the rest of the year, this fragment is used to ward off misfortune like fire and lightning in the house. You should harvest it yourself or have it given to you, never buy it. Ash, which is what this log is, means protection, prosperity, and health."

"The King said that a person named Skuld sent it to you; it was harvested earlier in the year from their tree." Alfred frowned slightly. "I might not have that right."

"Oh, you do," I said absently. "This will be a piece of the World Tree, Yggdrasil, that supports the Nine Realms. We are honored."

"No shit?"

"Damian! Language," Bruce remonstrated, and Damian rolled his eyes.

I knelt in front of the fireplace and turned the log so he could see the cut end; the other one was splintered from being broken and was dry and splintery. The growth rings were fine and numerous, and Damian gave up counting after a bit. "There are hundreds of years of rings on that one branch," he said. "And you propose to burn it?"

"That's its purpose," I said, getting up and ducking into the half bath just down the hall to wash my hands as others got up to see for themselves. The Yule log must be lit with clean hands. When I got back, Alfred handed me a long match. I struck it and carefully lit the greens around the base; the log caught fire easily and I smiled again. That was a sign of good luck.

"I didn't know you were superstitious, honey," my grandma said.

"I wouldn't say that I am," I said, smiling at her. "But I know for a fact that the Norse gods exist and that they have an effect on the world around them. What I don't know is whether they still have an effect on Midgard, though they might because of the connection provided by Yggdrasil. I prefer to err on the side of caution. Besides, even if it's only a tradition now, it's a nice one."

"I like it," Bruce said unexpectedly. "It ties in with a greater tradition performed by generations, and that can continue long after we're gone. And it's a nice bright fire, warm and relaxing." That got everybody talking about traditions they remembered from their childhoods, and that took us to an early dinner, after which the party broke up. A winter storm that had threatened was boiling in, and we all wanted to get home, those of us not living in the mansion, anyway. Alfred sent us home with a heap of leftovers, a jug of spiced cider, and the top layer of our wedding cake.

As gusts of wind drove snow hard before it, we turned on the fire in the living room and cuddled on the couch. "What was Christmas like for you growing up?" I asked curiously.

"Talia and R'as" he pronounced it Ray-sh "didn't celebrate it, not any holiday, really. Once I went to live with Dad, Alfred always decked the halls, we ticked off the boxes--tree, gifts, parties, feasts--but it always kind of felt like a cover story, what we did to promote the idea that we were the idle rich, not our real life. What we did at night."

"That's kind of sad," I said, and he hugged me tighter.

"I know your family did things differently. One of the great benefits of marrying you was that celebrations, holidays started to have real meaning. The first time we helped Alfred with the tree. Wrangling the kids when they were young, telling them to go wake up Dad first." He grinned. That was a fun memory. "Remembering these things provides a context and meaning to things that otherwise were just done because they were expected. I always look forward to them because I share them with you."

"It hasn't been a lot of fun this year for the most part, I'm afraid. I've been irritated and grim, a lot."

"It's been a difficult year, Sweet pea," he said, nuzzling my hair. "And some of that was my doing. Don't apologize. You also got used to a slower pace during the winter, a certain progression of time, and this year's certainly upset that habit. And the trial is naturally upsetting. Next year will be better. I'm thinking that next year we poke around the old homestead and find ourselves a Yule log for our own home. I like the symbolism, and I think it's important for you to keep faith with traditions you've embraced. I'm kind of jealous, I think. My afterlife wasn't nearly as interesting as yours."

"Just wait til Thrimilcy," I told him, feeling good at the thought. "We'll have to go up for Asgard's celebration."

"What's that?"

"It's a fertility ritual," I said cheerfully.

"I already approve," he said, grinning, and after we finished our cider, turned off the fire and went to bed.