#its just every scandinavian i talk to breathes a sigh of relief when they find out my nordics arent diehard pagans

[cor-norvegiae]

my hottest nordics take might be that they were children and young teenagers during the height of the viking age and consider it a distant past that is fun to reminisce on sometimes but they don’t remember it very well and they certainly don’t call themselves vikings unless it’s a joke. iceland remembers the best because of the sagas and the long tradition of baðstofulestur but as far as nordensu goes it’s their rough childhoods they dont think about much anymore

[lukin08]

Wait For Me:  Part 2

Rating: T (just on the safe side- very very minor swears)

Words: 3085

A/N: Not following the prompts for today, oh well.  I spent virtually no time researching this.  Guaranteed this is 200% historically inaccurate.  I am aware of this.  It is what it is.

Part one

The clerk pinched the bridge of his nose.  This was turning into one of those days, the line of unending passengers stretching through the building and over into the annex.  It was so much easier before the processing station had been built and he longed for a day again when passengers simply were inspected on board and either sent to quarantine or on their way.

They hadn’t expected the crowd.  Not today. Not when the ship was four days early. Not when Halvor was off hunting somewhere beyond the city, not scheduled to return until two days from now.  A lot of good the only Scandinavian speaking clerk did when he was nowhere to be found and the steamer was early.

“Papers.”  He failed to hide the weariness in his voice as he tried one last time.   He had already gone through this with several families this morning.  Each had come to a halt when the language barrier proved too great.  They all had been sent back to the detaining area, with a vague promise of tomorrow. Or more likely when Halvor decided grace the station with his presence and offer some relief to the frustrated clerks.

“…papers.”

The voice of the man across from him made the clerk look up.  His face was twisted in confusion, staring off to the side.  They had gotten farther than most of the other passengers. The man was able to respond to simple questions.  He had established his name, origin country and had produced some of the necessary documents regarding his trip.

The clerk watched intently as the man pulled open a drawstring on a leather satchel secured across his chest.  He had been clutching to it as if the contents of his entire world were held in it. He rifled through it for a few moments before visibly taking in a large breath, his massive shoulders rising and falling in sync with his breath.  Finding nothing that would help, he carefully secured the pouch.  His head rose locked eyes with the clerk as he slowly lifted his arm.  His hand came down solidly on the stack of paper sitting on the edge of the clerk’s desk.

“Papers,” he declared. His voice was strong, but the clerk could see the hints of nervousness and frustration seeping through at the edge of his voice.

He should have turned the man away by now.  But there was something about him that intrigued the clerk.  Usually he could size up a passenger, figure out their trade from the trace hints they provided.  But this man, and barely so; he’d lay down money he wasn’t a day over twenty-two, maybe twenty three.  This man was an enigma.  

They were at eye level as they stared each other down, even though the clerk’s raised desk usually made him look down slightly at the passengers.  He was dressed in tailored clothes, yet the details were simple and his solid form suggested he had seen his share of hard labor.  His English was formal, but his grasp on it was in its infancy. His mannerisms were all wrong for someone who had traveled in a first class cabin.  He looked as if he had been someone living on the fringe of society, brought in by some benevolent being to learn the ways of the proper world.

There was a loud thud on the desk as the man lifted and brought his hand down again.  “Papers,” he said with as much authority as he could muster.

The clerk shook his head. “I need different ones.”  

The man pushed the papers closer.  “No. These.  Look.”

He hated this part, hated the language barrier.  He needed the missing documents to move forward or to be able to explain what the steps were to be processed if they could not be produced.  It was so simple and all about to break down because of damn Halvor and his damn hunting trip.

“I’m sorry.  You need to go back.  Try again tomorrow.”

The man followed to where the clerk was pointing, then whipped back around shaking his head. “No.  Please.   …please wait.  My wife… She can…  She can help.”

The clerk sighed and looked at the long line of people that would most likely all be in the same situation. “I’m sorry.”

“Please!”

“There’s nothing I can-“

“Wait!  Wait, wait, wait, wait!”

There was a blur of skirts and red that only came to a screeching halt when the man reached out his arms to stop the movement.  A young woman took several large breaths to try to compose herself.  She tapped on the arm of her companion as to say thank you then looked up at the clerk with a broad smile.  “Do you know how far a lady must go around here to find the proper facilities to use?  And then you should have seen the line!  Unheard of! They really need to do something about that!”

“I take it you’re in this party as well.”

Somehow her smile got even bigger.  “Oh yes! Pleased to meet you.”  She held out her hand, her head comically obscured behind the desk as she moved closer.  The clerk couldn’t decide if her forthrightness or impeccable speech surprised him more. He gingerly reached out his hand to meet hers.

As if on cue, she turned to the man next to her – her husband, he supposed - and said something to him the clerk could not decipher.  His response was almost laughable.  Even speaking a language he could not understand, the clerk was aware of how fast the man was speaking.  His arms gestured wildly, pointing at the stack of paperwork, then to his satchel and to the back of the building from where she appeared.  

She responded equally as furiously, talking possibly even quicker.  She let him talk again, and it was apparent how much she was trying to listen to him, nodding every now and then and giving one word answers.  When she calmly placed her hand on the man’s chest, it brought him to a halt.   He looked down at her hand and back to her.  She patted his chest again then held her hand out in a gesture that suggested she would take care of things.  She spoke a few words, which he nodded in response.  When she seemed satisfied he had quieted, she addressed the clerk.

“My husband says there is missing documentation.  Would you be so kind as to let me know what we need to provide?”

“Ahh, yes.”  The clerk shuffled through the stack.  “Your boarding documents are here from Bristol, but the ones from your first passage-“

“From Grimstad.  We left from Grimstad.”  The woman smiled up at him, rocking up on her toes with a large grin on her face.  He found himself returning the smile.

“If that is where you originated, then yes I need those as well.”

“My apologies.  I was not aware we had to provide those.”

She addressed the man besides her, speaking slower this time, more deliberate as to not excite him again.  The clerk heard the familiar word “Bristol” followed by “Grimstad”, wherever that may be. The man nodded his head in understanding and watched her reach down into her bag and produce the needed documentation. Before she handed the papers over, he stopped her and spoke again.

The words were a jumble in the clerk’s head, except for one- Arendelle.  That word he knew well.  There had been a flurry of passengers arriving from that country, perhaps a year ago or slightly longer.  All of them with a look of relief to have made it that did not match the prosperity the country was known to have.

Stories had surfaced the same time as their arrival to the small port town of Halifax.  Ones of eternal winters and talking snow monsters and an oppressive fear one could not shake.  The townsfolk all wrote it off as superstitions from the old country.  The clerk remembered a particular night where Halvor regaled them at the local tavern with the tales he had been told.  A snowstorm in summer.  The snow queen.  A brave ice cutter.  A princess transformed to ice on a frozen fjord.  The whole thing was preposterous and many a laugh was had that night at the immigrants’ expense.  He didn’t believe any of it.  As far as he was aware, the country’s new queen was still in power.  These had to be backwoods fairy tales and nothing more.  Except the real fear in those travelers’ eyes was something he could never shake.  He had seen it over and over again all those months ago and it haunted him to this day.

“Excuse me.”  The clerk peered down at the woman, shaken from his thoughts.  “Yes, hi.” She gave him a little wave.  “You were a little lost there for a minute.”

The clerk cleared his throat and reached out for the papers.  He studied her as he waited.  Her hair the same color as Halvor described of the doomed princess. Eyes blue as he imagined she would have. He knew right then whenever the memory of those stories came up from the back of his mind that this girl, this woman, would now be the face for him of the beautiful, but doomed princess turned to ice.

He went to ask her if she had heard of the story, but thought better of it.  She seemed like someone eager to engage in conversation and it would only extend his day even longer.  He took the papers in his hand, but she hesitated releasing them.

“Is there a problem?”

She caught her lower lip in between her teeth for a moment before she spoke.  “My husband.  He told me he gave you Arendelle as our country of origin.”

“Yes?”

“Well…  You see…  The boarding information from Grimstad is all there.  But… but…  We have nothing else to provide for our travels.”

It hit him what her concern was and quirked an eyebrow at her.  “Was there documentation required between Arendelle and the country Grimstad is in?”

“No.  The way we… I mean the borders were open on the roads we traveled.” 

“And it was not by ship?”

“No.”

“Then I require no additional information.”

Her relief was visible as she sunk back into her husband’s chest.  The clerk watched as she tilted her head and grinned up at him, and repeated his answer in her native tongue.  He smiled back and leaned down to kiss her forehead.

“There is one more thing. Do you have any certification of your marriage?”

Both of their heads snapped up at his words.  The man remained stoic, but his arm wrapped around his wife in a protective stance.

“Is… is that required?”

“No.  But it will make the processing faster.  Without it, you may be delayed.”

“Oh, I see.  How long will…  Wait!”

The woman was down at her bag in a flash.  Her hands moved quickly searching until she found her treasure with a loud ‘aha!’ She popped back up with an emboldened look on her face.  “Found it!”

Her husband on the other hand looked confused.  He leaned down ever so, head tilted as if he was trying to read what was on the paper in her hand.  She quickly noticed and pushed the paper on the desk.  His gaze followed, squinting at the words written down.

“I thought I had left this in my trunk.  But we are in luck!”  She peered in eagerness as the clerk scanned the document.  Her impatience got the best of her as she pointed out some of the words for him.  “See here? Ekteskap?  That word is marriage.  It has the date here, the church and the location, Arendelle City here. Is there anything else you need?”

Her hand never let go of the certificate and she seemed ready to snatch it back to the safety of her bag as soon as possible.  All the information was there.  He felt for the seal as he read the names.  Kristoff Bjorgman wed to Anna Kaisdotter only several months ago.  What life altering event had made it necessary to send these newlyweds across the ocean to begin their lives together?  It was a question he often had, yet rarely was granted an answer.  

The clerk recorded the date and location in his log along with Mrs. Bjorgman’s maiden name.  He handed back the rest of the papers to her. “This seems to be all in order.”

“Does that mean we can leave today?”

“I believe we have everything.  I don’t see why not-  …oh wait. My apologies.  It has been a long day already.”

“Yes?  What is it?”

“There’s no delicate way to address this, but I am obligated to discuss the matter with you.  So let us just get through it, yes?”

The woman nodded her head.

“Many people who come through this port.  Particularly the ones from your part of the world have opted to modify their names. To make it easier.  Do you understand?”

“You’re telling us we have to change our names?”

“Not telling. Offering.  Anna is simple.  But your last name.  It could be easier pronounced as Borman.  Or your husband.  Christopher is a similar option-“

“No.”

Both the clerk and woman quickly faced the man. His eyes were closed.  He took a moment before opening them to address the clerk.

“My name is Kristoff Bjorgman.”  His voice was strong, but the clerk could tell he was struggling to keep it level. “It is what I have.  It is what I bring here.  It is the only thing.”

His wife entwined his large arm around hers.  She reached up and touched his cheek, directing his gaze to her and offered him a sweet smile.  Then she turned back to the clerk.

“There will be no changes, thank you.”

“Very well.”

After a few more formalities handed over a set of formal papers.  “These are for you.  You are free to go.  Anything from the ship you need to retrieve can be claimed in building C.  Your animal will be released from quarantine tomorrow and you will need this ticket to pick it up.  Do not lose this.  If you have no arrangements, may I suggest Province House for your stay in the city?”

“That’s it?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you!”  She reached up and grabbed the clerks hand and shook it vigorously.  “Thank you so much!”

  ------

“Where are you taking us?”

“You’ll see.  The woman at the hotel told me about this place.”

“How do you even know where you’re going?”

Kristoff’s arm went slack as Anna stopped in her tracks.  “Kristoff!  English! I told you, you have to keep at it.”

“Not tonight, love.  It’s been a long day.  I don’t understand how you have any energy right now.”

“We’re on land!  No more rocking!” Anna made a back and forth swaying motion until she moved a little too far to one side.

Kristoff reached out and grabbed her before she toppled.  “Careful!  Anna, please. You have to be more watchful. What are you going to do in a few months?  You’ll be tipping everywhere and I may not be there to catch you.”

“Yes you will.  But, I know.  I will go slower.  But I can’t tonight!  I finally don’t feel sick and it’s been weeks!  How could I not feel amazing?”  

Kristoff chuckled then leaned down to kiss the top of her head.  “Okay, then.  Take me to what it is you want to show me.”

They ended up on a ridge overlooking the harbor.  The sun was just beginning to set, basking the sky and water in brilliant shades of oranges and pinks.  Kristoff draped his arm over Anna and pulled her close.

“Our first sunset where we can finally feel free.”

“The first of many more to come.”

“You were wrong today.”

“About what?”

“About only having your name.”

Kristoff scoffed.  “That’s all I’ve ever had.”

Anna shook her head.  “Not true.”

“Oh yeah? I don’t recall bringing anything of substance with me.”

“That’s not important.  Especially not here.  But you did bring your smarts and your wit.”

“A lot of good that has done me.”

“You undersell yourself.  It’s gotten us here.  You also have Sven.”

“He doesn’t count.”

“Yes he does.  And you have me.

“Okay, that counts a little.”

Anna smacked his arm.  “Hey!”  She moved his hand down to her stomach.  “You brought your family.”

He smiled down at her.  “We brought our family.  And that’s the only thing I need.”

Kristoff pulled her close again and they watched the sun set in silence.  Anna slipped her head up to look at him.  “There is something else on your mind.  What is it?”

“Oh, I was just wondering about how you happened to have a certificate for a marriage that doesn’t exist.”

“We are married.”

“By the trolls!  Which was definitely not in whatever place that was written on that piece of paper.  What was that about?”

Anna looked back over the harbor.  “It was Kai. Before I left to find you, he gave it to me along with some other records that could be needed.  It all happened so fast, I forgot about it. Otherwise I would have told you.”

“And your name?”

“His idea.  He said he would be able to intercept anything if he saw that name at the castle before it got somewhere that could threaten us.”

Kristoff barked out a sharp laugh.  “Fitting.”

“What is it?”

“The last time I saw him, he spoke of you.  He said you were like a daughter to him.  And now, there’s a small part that makes it so.”

Anna twisted around until she was able to return Kristoff’s embrace.  “So what now?”

Kristoff let out a deep sigh.  Anna could feel him releasing all the tension he had been holding in for weeks.  “We get Sven tomorrow, figure out where we want to settle until the baby is born.  I’ll find work until spring arrives and we can decide our path then.”

They both watched as the last rays of dying light dipped under the horizon.  Anna leaned her head into Kristoff, enjoying the overwhelming feeling of safety and love in his strong embrace. “We made it, Kristoff.”

“We did.”

“Take me home.”

He dropped his arms and laced his fingers into hers, tugging at her gently for them to walk back down the path.  “Let’s go,” he said.  And they did together.