#whitefeather79

A Cup of Good Cheer

Kristoff straightened up in his chair, pressed ‘enter’ a few more times on his computer to make himself look busy. He looked at the time; god, how was it only 10:21am. He slumped back down, leaning his elbows on his desk to keep himself from slithering completely out of his chair. His eyelids were slowly closing when he felt a nudge on his shoulder.

“Late night last night?”

Kristoff jerked upright, eyes meeting those of his new girlfriend. Anna worked in the next department over, and after months of shy flirtations in the break room and awkward yet exhilarating subway rides (where Kristoff always tried to remain a respectful distance but Anna always ended up grabbing his arm or falling into his chest as the subway jolted to a stop), they had finally taken the next step last night. And many more steps after that. Repeatedly.

“I mean, I apologize for keeping you up so late.” Anna managed to simultaneously blush and wink, and it was one more endearing quality of hers that Kristoff couldn’t resist.

“It was, uh, definitely worth it.” He ran a hand through his hair, and the heat he was feeling in his cheeks he was certain wasn’t as endearing as the pink of Anna’s.

“Well,” Anna leaned in conspiratorially, and at that proximity Kristoff got a good whiff of the sweet and woody notes of bergamot and orange blossom, “I heard Eric’s got the special eggnog going at his desk.” He could smell the peppermint on her breath, and he chuckled as he wondered how many candy canes she had gone through already that morning.

“Normally I would, but it’s ten in the morning?” Kristoff rubbed his eyes and yawned for good measure, but Anna wasn’t having any of it.

“Oh come on, Kristoff. Just a little?” She rubbed circles in his back and Kristoff knew he didn’t have a chance.

“Alright, feisty-pants. Let’s go.”

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“...and I said to him, you know I’m right, so why don’t you just take the deal?” Loud laughter echoed through the hall as they neared Eric’s desk.

“Ugh,” Anna groaned, “it’s Hans.” She slipped her hand into the crook of Kristoff’s elbow. They rounded the corner and sure enough, the entire Sales department was gathered around Eric’s desk. Eric was spiking everyone’s eggnog stealthily.

“Well would you look who it is.” Everyone’s heads turned, as Hans regarded the newcomers with a very practiced poker face.

“Hi everyone!” Anna gave a small wave. “Hans.” She nodded noncommittally in his direction. Eric took out two plastic cups, filled them with eggnog, looked left and right, then added a dash of rum from a bottle wrapped in a brown paper bag.

Kristoff picked up his cup, and the smell of the rum definitely opened his eyes.

“Oh I know, Bjorgman, it’s not quite what you’re used to. It’s Appleton, very rare. My father secured some from the estate itself.” Hans sipped from his cup, his eyes narrowing as he watched Kristoff.

Kristoff met his look, took a good swig from his cup.

Hans smiled.

“You know, I had high hopes for Christmas this year,” His voice boomed, as if he were standing on a stage, “Had a ring and everything. But I guess it wasn’t meant to be.” He bowed his head, looked at Anna from the corner of his eye. The other salespeople around them shifted uncomfortably.

Anna rolled her eyes. “Oh give me a break, Hans!” She huffed, her cheeks reddening.

“What! I’m just stating facts! Nothing everyone doesn’t know already.” He gestured vaguely.

Anna shot him a death glare.

“Come on, buddy, there’s no need for this.” Kristoff tried to play mediator, but inside he was fuming.

“Stay out of this, lackey.” Hans’ voice dripped with derision, “I mean, seriously, what exactly do you do here? Fetch coffee for people?” Hans’ lackeys tittered.

Kristoff could feel his head was about to explode, and involuntarily his body propelled him forward with fists clenched. But suddenly he felt something being shoved at him.

“Hold my drink.”

And Anna, all one hundred and five pounds of her, went hurtling at the prone and shocked figure of her ex-boyfriend.

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Anna closed the door of the office of the vice-president behind her. Kristoff, who had been sitting on a chair just outside the office, stood to meet her.

“Well? What happened? Are you okay?” Kristoff held her arms, peering into her downcast face.

“So, um,” Anna tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, “The VP gave me a stern talking-to,” she chuckled, “But she knows Hans is a bit of dick, so she just told me to stay away from him.”

“Whew! That’s great! I was afraid you’d get suspended or something.”

“Naaah,” Anna scoffed, “Although I told her Hans was looking for blood.”

“That’s for sure! You should’ve heard him after they took you away. He wants a restraining order.” Kristoff almost said it with pride.

Anna laughed. “It’s okay. She said she would take care of Hans.” Anna smiled, taking both of Kristoff’s hands in hers. “Now what do you say we break for lunch and get some real drinks?” She winked.

It was December in the year 1776. Valley Forge, Pennsylvania colony, who like the other twelve colonies, had declared its independence from Great Britain only five months earlier, thanks to the Declaration of Independence that was written by Thomas Jefferson. Here, in a lone log cabin deep in the woods lived a young woman of twenty-three. Her name was Anna Agnarrsdotter, a Norwegian immigrant’s daughter who lived alone. She had a unique ability to heal and she was close friends with an ancient Delaware Indian medicine woman whom she called Grandmother Redbird. Anna hated the townspeople for they had let the upstart Danish prince, Hans Westergard, seduce then murder her older sister Elsa at the stake, claiming she was a witch (which she wasn’t). Anna was also a Tory, who thought of the American Revolution as nothing more than a fool’s rebellion. Yes, her life was lonely but it was simple and the only council she had to keep was her own.

Kristoff Bjorgman, a young man of twenty-six, was a soldier in the colonial militia under the orders of General George Washington. He was the son of Norwegian immigrants but he felt sympathetic to the patriots who fought for their freedom from English tyranny. General Washington had crossed the Delaware River from New Jersey and they were told to make camp for the winter in Valley Forge, Pennsylvania. Lack of warm clothing and food and even less medicines were making the colonial militia look like a ragtag team of rogues. The little group of soldiers, led by Charles Weselton, a second in command to General Washington, had been ambushed by the Red Coats. Muskets were fired. Cannons primed and fired. Bayonets stabbed into the flesh of Patriot and Red Coat alike. Kristoff had fought valiantly, like his Viking ancestors, only to be severely wounded by a bayonet’s blade and flogged. He was left for dead while all of his comrades did not survive the skirmish.

Days passed. Kristoff lay there in the snow and grass, clutching a blood soaked kerchief to his right side. He had to get help. A small musket ball had lodged itself into his left thigh. Weaker by the cold and loss of blood, he crawled to a creek to get water. He needed to find General Washington before he died. He was able to sink his large hands into the creek and gulp down a little water before vomiting, retching violently from pain, lack of sleep and lack of food and water. He lay on his back, a gentle snow now falling. Alone, weak, cold and hurting; all these things had hit Kristoff like a battle axe wielded by his enemy. Yes, all of Valley Forge would be training for what was to come, since the Battles of Lexington and Concord had proven, while brave, the colonial militia needed further training if they were going to beat General Cornwallis and his Red Coats. The black veil of nothingness crept into his body. Kristoff wasn’t sure if he should welcome its icy grip. Widowed, losing his family since childhood, his farm; had made this Norseman sympathetic to the colonials cause in their fight for freedom. Although now, all he wanted was to close his eyes forever.

Anna, even though it was winter and two weeks til Christmas, needed fresh meat to eat. Having no man had meant she needed to do all of her chores alone. She had her arrow notched into her bow (a gift from Grandmother Redbird’s late husband Walking Stick) and had come across a bloody scene at the creek. Ten colonial soldiers: all dead. Fighting the urge to retch at the stench of death, she gingerly stepped over each man but tripped over the last one. She sat on her knees and looked at the young man she’d tripped over. He looked Norse, not English or Celtic. He had been badly wounded. Even pale and scruffy from the two weeks worth of dark golden blond stubble caressing his cheeks, chin and upper lip, he looked handsome (in a rugged, manly way). His long blond hair was shaggy and loose from his ribbon. His clothes were tattered and torn.

(Such a waste of a perfect specimen of Norwegian manhood) she thought as she studied him: broad shouldered, muscular build with large arms and legs (those that could kill a man bare handed), large hands and feet, flat bellied (but not like a Greek god) and having proud Nordic features, he looked like a Viking. Anna then noticed something. This man was breathing…but barely. (I don’t believe in this rebellion. Why couldn’t the colonials leave well enough alone) she thought. (Still, this man is alive. Should I come to his aid? Should I just leave him here to die). Something about this man had called out to her very soul. She couldn’t place what but the Christian part of her had told her to help him. She set her bow and arrow down and carefully got him to his feet. He was barely conscious. She bent to retrieve her weapons. “Come,” she said quietly. “Walk with me.” His vision was blurry. He saw a little red and green with pale ivory, next to him. Using all of his remaining strength, he walked with her. She didn’t know how’d they make it to her cabin but they did. Once inside, she latched the door and had him lie down. He collapsed onto her bed. She went to her bookcase by the fireplace and retrieved her baskets of medicinal herbs and other surgical supplies. Lighting candles and boiling water in a kettle over the fire, Anna used the large knife that was sheathed to his belt to remove his tattered, bloodied clothing. Soon, he was completely nude. She’d never seen a nude man before. He was a perfect specimen of Norseman and very long and thick where it mattered. Blushing and trying to avert her eyes, Anna covered Kristoff’s manhood with a long square of red cloth and examined his injuries. Rolling up the sleeves of her dress, she got the hot kettle and some clean cloths.

She’d made some willowbark tea and used it as an antiseptic as she quickly bathed his wounds. She got her needles and poker red hot and set to work. She worked quickly but efficiently as she cleaned and sutured the bayonet wounds, ensuring that they were tightly stitched closed. She took some time with the musket ball wounds, ensuring that no metal fragments remained. This, too, was sutured quickly. She applied poultices of herbs on clean squares of cloth over his stitches and tied the bandages securely. She washed her hands and took a bar of lavender scented soap, a bowl of warm water, toweling cloths and she gently bathed him, shaved his face and washed his hair. Once he was clean and freshly shaved, she carefully brushed his clean hair until it pooled about his shoulders in liquid golden sunshine, admiring his nudity (even though it wasn’t the thing proper young ladies did). She moved him gingerly as she removed the soiled bed linens and replaced them. Soon, he was laying there, out of it. She’d managed to get a little chicken broth and willowbark tea into him. Anna went behind the dressing screen. She quickly stripped herself bare, bathed and washed her hair, then donned a night shift. She then sat in a chair by her bed and watched, keeping vigil over him overnight.

This happened for the good part of a week. Anna had ran cool wet cloths over Kristoff’s haters l heated skin when fevers wracked his body. She added quilts when he had chills. She fed him broth and tea, changed his poultices and checked his sutures. Whenever he thrashed about, they’d open and she’d have to fix then. She kept him clean and had helped him use the chamber pot. Grandmother Redbird had come to visit by the end of the fifth day. Anna looked tired and worried. The iron gray sky was thick with the promise of snow and the air was frigidly cold. She wondered how he’d survived out there all alone. Anna looked at the ancient Delaware woman. “Grandmother,” Anna said. “I cannot heal him. I did everything that I knew to do and he has yet to open his eyes.” Grandmother Redbird walked to the bed, her long white braids trailing the dirt floor. She leaned over the bed, looking at Kristoff. A glowing crystal hung on a thin leather cord around his thick, muscled neck. “He has strong medicine. Do you see this crystal,” Redbird asked. Anna nodded, fascinated with the glowing yellow crystal etched with runes. “He will live.” The crystal was calling to Anna. She soon stood by the bed.

Redbird set to work. Anna held the abalone shell that had a very powerful mixture of white sage, sweetgrass and other herbs. Using a turtle shell rattle and an eagle feather, Redbird chanted over Kristoff. His labored breathing soon turned calm. “He will be fine. You did well, my child,” Grandmother said. “Thank you, Grandmother. I feel as if I know him but I’ve never met him before I’d rescued him,” Anna wondered aloud. “The spirits hold all of life’s mysteries. Perhaps in another life you have known him. Spirits that belong together will seek each other out through the passages of time. Someday, you will realize that connection.” Anna nodded. After they shared a meal of fresh venison stew, Grandmother took her leave. A blizzard had hit soon after. Anna looked out at the wind and snow, wondering if perhaps she and this beautiful stranger, tall and fair, had known each other before.

Kristoff’s eyelids fluttered and his eyes slowly opened, letting his vision regain its focus. He saw an elderly Native American woman standing over him, waving a sweetly scented braid of grass that had been lit ablaze but now smoking over him. He then noticed a young lady beside her, white and Nordic like he was. To him, this young lady was beautiful beyond compare. Her long strawberry blonde hair was more strawberry than blonde and styled into twin pigtail braids. She had cute freckles liberally sprinkled across her cheeks and the bridge of her small nose. He wondered if she had more. She was petite and curvy. She wore a shawl over her green dress and held a smoking abalone shell. What really got to him was that there was something about her that seemed familiar but he’d never met her before, had he? “Where…where am I,” Kristoff asked, his voice groggy and uneven. “Relax, good sir,” Anna said. “You were injured. Grandmother Redbird and I are trying to make you well again.” “Who are you?” “I am Anna Hilda Agnarrsdotter. You are?” “Kristoffer Eirik Bjorgman. I’m a soldier under the command of General George Washington.” (A colonial soldier. I knew it. He’s a Norseman though. I’ll figure this out) she thought.

Grandmother Redbird completed her ritual over Kristoff. “Relax, my son,” Grandmother said. “You are in excellent hands. Anna has learned from me how to enhance her gift of healing. I will check on you again soon.” Grandmother Redbird took her pouch and shell, then left. “How bad was I injured,” Kristoff asked after he and Anna were alone again. “Enough that you would ascend on the road to Asgard without my help,” Anna said, cleaning her suturing needle and knife. They looked at each other. “Have we met before,” Kristoff asked. “I seem to know you. How, I can’t say.” “Because we are both Norwegian. Our people are scarce here yet you seem familiar to me, too,” Anna replied. Blushing, they looked away. She finished her task and went to him. She made sure that he was comfortable. “You need to rest. First, I’ll give you some beef broth and some bread to eat. You can drink willowbark tea. I’ll be close if you need anything.” “I’m forever in your debt.” She smiled. He blushed. She soon handed him a bowl of beef broth and a good portion of freshly baked bread. He graciously accepted these and had eaten it quickly: he was very hungry.

Anna gave Kristoff a second helping. “Are you starving,” she asked. “Yes. Our rations are poor. Our clothing and weapons inadequate,” he said. She sat at the edge of the bed. “Then why fight this stupid war? Why do the colonials feel that they have to bite the hand that feeds them?” He looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Are you a Tory?” “No. I don’t side with the English king. Still, I feel that this is nothing more than a silly rebellion, not a revolution. The people get all of their needs from England, so why form their own nation?” “Because the King of England, according to my colonial friends, is a tyrant trying to tax the people so much, like squeezing blood from a turnip. I help because they need it. A new nation sounds exciting.” “Well, I still think it’s a fool’s errand.” “You are entitled to your opinion.” They looked at each other. “Rest now,” Anna said, handing Kristoff a cup of willowbark tea. She added chamomile to it so he’d sleep. He drank it all, then fell asleep. She took the teacup, put it into the dry sink, then made a sleeping pallet of furs and quilts. She went behind the dressing screen and undressed. She didn’t know that he watched.

Kristoff blushed feverishly as he tried to sleep but seeing Anna’s nude form behind the slats of the dressing screen proved to be too much of a temptation. She was petite but curvy where she needed to be: the perfect specimen of Norse womanhood. Upon seeing her, he had some very vivid dreams of her, the crystal around his neck glowing warm and bright. He closed his eyes as she stepped out in a white linen night shift, her hair loose about her shoulders and down her back like living fire. She went to her makeshift bed and slept, her dreams filled with her Norseman.

Weeks passed. Kristoff grew restless by having Anna tend to his every need. He had lost a lot of blood from his wounds and needed to regain his strength so he could return to General Washington’s camp but he couldn’t do that laying in a bed like an invalid. He was a man and a colonial soldier for Pete’s sake! He got up, relieved that she had made him a pair of braies, some new breeches, wool stockings, a shirt, vest and a wool undercoat to go with his newly mended militia jacket. She also made him a pair of Sami styled upturned moccasins to wear (he had a lot of holes in his old shoes). Donning the braies, he got up and hobbled around the cabin. Anna had come in with a bundle of firewood. She set the bundle down. “Kristoffer Eirik Bjorgman,” she said sternly. “What are you doing?! You need to rest!” She went to him, placing herself in front of him, facing him. “I can’t lie down in bed any longer! I’m tired of being useless! I need to get stronger so I can resume my post,” Kristoff said. She tried to push him with her hands on his chest but he towered over her and he was strong but she managed. “Why do men have to be so muleheaded? Pride isn’t going to make you well, you know!” They fell backwards. He landed on the bed on his back. She landed right on top of him. They looked at each other. His crystal glowed very brightly at her nearness. She felt fluttery and so did he. “You’re right,” he’d finally admonished. “I guess I do need rest.” “This is awkward. You’re gorgeous. Wait, what,” she said. They blushed. She quickly got off of him and he laid down normally. She covered him warmly.

Anna looked at Kristoff. She knew that he hated feeling helpless (he had an independent streak like she did) but she only had his best interest in mind. “Kristoff,” Anna said. “I’m sorry I’d snapped at you. I can only imagine how hard this is for you.” “Anna,” Kristoff said. “It’s fine. You’re only trying to help me. I’m sorry I snapped at you.” They smiled. She sat on the bed and saw the crystal glowing brightly. “Your crystal. How did you find a glowing one?” He fingered it, the smooth crystal warm against his skin. “This crystal was given to me by my grandfather when I was a boy. He said it was blessed or cursed, depending on how you understood it, by the trolls. One of our ancestors, a Viking, had married a Sami reindeer herder’s daughter. She bestowed the crystal upon him on the day their handfasting began. It would draw you to your soulmate. I kept it but haven’t found my soulmate yet. I thought I did but my wife died not even a month into the marriage.” “That’s very interesting. I hope that the legend comes true for you.” She got up and went to her sleeping pallet. “Anna, you don’t have to lay there. I can,” Kristoff offered. “It’s fine. You’re injured,” Anna said. They both blushed. “We can share the bed. It’s big enough.” “We’re not husband and wife.” Kristoff had an idea. He got up and found some rope and a quilt. He tied the rope to nails and the bed canopy. He draped the folded quilt over the rope. “A barrier. I’ll stay on one side and you’ll stay on the other.” She got up. “Perfect,” she said. She went to change. He laid there, soon asleep. She crawled into bed. She peeked under the quilt, watching him sleep. The crystal glowed brightly, making her wonder if he was “the one” for her and she was “the one” for him. Sleep eventually consumed her; the best sleep she’d had in quite some time.

Months passed. Kristoff was healing quite nicely. He had also regained his strength. To repay Anna for her kindness, he made the necessary repairs to her cabin (weather permitting) and had gone hunting for her (even though she was perfectly capable of doing this herself, mind you). The crystal kept glowing brightly and it warmed even more when they were close. Yes, they bickered but it was more like playful banter. To thank him, she gave him a muzzleloader, flint, black powder, balls and a horse. It was now the Ides of March. Anna and Kristoff had just finished a meal of roasted venison (hunted by Kristoff), carrots, potatoes and fresh bread. She even made chocolate krumkakes, which were her favorite and had a jug of mjod (which she’d made) when there was a knock on the door. “Were you expecting anyone,” Kristoff asked. “Grandmother never knocks. She coughs politely when she visits,” Anna said. She went to the window. Four British soldiers were outside. “Kristoff! Hide in the loft! Red Coats,” Anna whispered harshly. He got up and went up the ladder and into the loft, muzzleloader primed and ready.

Anna hid a knife in her garter and a knife in her bodice. She went to the door and opened it cautiously. Four men (shorter and stouter than Kristoff) stood there. The leader (she assumed) spoke. “Good evening,” he said, his English accent like one of high breeding. “Forgive the intrusion. I am Sergeant Aldous Wellington. My men and I are caught in this snowstorm.” It was snowing hard outside. “I see,” Anna warily. “What may I do?” “We would be obliged if you could offer us shelter for the night?” There was no way that Anna would allow these men into her home but she was also trying to protect Kristoff. Yes, she disagreed with the Revolutionary War going on but she’d grown to deeply care for Kristoff and if these soldiers found him, her Kristoff would be a dead man. She thought carefully. “I am a recent widow. My husband, Mr. Borg, had been killed this past summer during a skirmish. I do not feel comfortable with you all in my home,” she said. “However, you may bunk in my barn and leave upon first light.” “We are obliged, Mrs. Borg,” Sergeant Wellington said. “Have you any food?” “I do.” She went to the table and gave them the leftovers. Sergeant Wellington took the leftovers and with his men, went to the barn. Kristoff remained in the loft. Anna remained awake, neither of them trusting the Red Coats.

The next morning, the snow subsided. Sergeant Wellington and his men went into the cabin and, under orders of the King, as Wellington put it, ransacked Anna’s cabin, taking her food and some of her medicinal herbs. For revenge, Anna had put yellow jasmine into their tea, which would kill them. Luckily, none of them had availed themselves to her body, although one soldier kept looking lustily at her (Kristoff kept the muzzleloader aimed at that one soldier). Once the Red Coats had left and Anna had made sure that they had walked far enough along, she walked to the ladder leading up to the loft. She looked up. Kristoff looked down. “The soldiers are gone. You can come down,” she said. He slung the muzzleloader onto his back and climbed down the ladder. She then made them some porridge, crispbread with cheese, fruit preserves (she grew lignonberries from seeds she’d sent away for from Norway) and had fried some bacon. They sat down and ate their breakfast. He looked at her.

“With the Red Coats in the vicinity of Valley Forge, I must go back to the camps lest General Washington has me hanged for desertion,” he said. She knew that this day would eventually come. At first, she only had wanted to heal him then send him on his way to fight this silly rebellion (as she saw it). Somewhere along the way, though, Anna had come to care deeply for Kristoff. (Am I in love with him? I have only known him a brief time but I feel as if I’d known him for years and yes, I love him. Will I see him again? I hope so) she thought. At first, he only wanted to get well and return to his fellow soldiers. Somewhere along the way, though, Kristoff had come to care deeply for Anna. (I love her dearly. I’m grateful for her help. We’ve only recently met but I feel as if we’ve known each other forever. I hope to see him again) he thought. “I know that you must leave but I wish that you could stay with me,” she said through veiled lashes. They got up and went to each other. He took her hands in his. “Kristoff,” Anna said. “I know that we’ve only recently met but I feel that we’ve known each other longer. I love you and it may be possible that, with you going to fight, you might not return. If this is so,…uh…would you spend the night…with me? In my bed, doing things that lovers would do?” She blushed feverishly. The crystal around his neck glowed brightly, its warmth hot, mirroring the blush on his face.

“Anna,” Kristoff said, rubbing the backs of her hands with his thumbs. He blushed and looked down, then into her blue eyes. “I feel as if we’ve known each other for years rather than only a short while. I love you and if the gods see fit, I will come back to you. The only way I’d not come back to you is if I’m making the journey to Valhalla. I…uh…would love to lay in love with you.” She smiled, lost in his brown eyes. He smiled back. She inched closer so that her body was pressed intimately close to his body. She stood on tiptoe. He bent low. Their lips met in a kiss. Soon, his arms snaked around her and her arms were wrapped around him as their kiss deepened, tongues touching. Clothes soon were removed and strewn across the rugs on the dirt floor, hair let loose from their ties. He picked her up and carried her the short distance to the bed. He gently laid her down and got on top of her, never breaking their kiss. The rest of the day had given way to night as, amidst soft moans of bliss, quiet groans of delight and whispers of love, fervently spoken, Anna and Kristoff explored each other’s bare bodies, no secrets between them. When he rose over her and their two bodies became one, her maidenhead and his virtue now gone, the crystal glowed as bright as the sun and it became very warm as they moved in unison. She clung to him as he filled her, their love like a blossoming rose. This continued until they drifted to the stars together in slumber.

The next day, Anna had woken up alone. She sat up, covering herself and felt the side of the bed that he had laid on. It was still warm, indicating that he hadn’t been gone long. A note and two purple crocuses laid on his pillow. She read the note, he professing his love for her and that he’d return (he was better at showing rather than telling), tears in her eyes. A warmth laid on the valley between her breasts. She looked down. He had placed the crystal around her neck. She placed the crystal between her thumb and forefinger of her right hand. He had told her in the note that the crystal would protect her. She lifted it to her lips and kissed it. She felt him there with her, her body remembering his body and their love for one another. This gave her the strength to carry on.

Kristoff had returned to the encampment. He had found General Washington and told him what had happened. Kristoff would not be charged with desertion and had taken his place amongst the colonial militia. Anna had given Kristoff some valuable things: a kit with medicinal plants, a muzzleloader, powder, flints, small musket balls, a couple changes of clothing which she’d made for him, new shoes and one of her horses. He took very good care of her gifts. When he’d bed down for the night, vivid memories of feeling her body against his body and of their love for one another, kept him awake. He, even though he no longer wore the crystal, had sensed Anna there with him. He wondered of the connection and recalled his paternal grandfather (who’d given him the crystal) telling him that the crystal has been blessed by trolls so it held mystical, unexplained powers. He was still happy that he’d given her the crystal for safekeeping. He hoped to go back to her soon.

Months passed. Anna had not been feeling like herself lately. Her weeps (as Grandmother Redbird had called a period) had never arrived. Grandmother Redbird had confirmed what Anna had known in her heart: she was carrying Kristoff’s child in her womb. She’d never felt this connection before and the crystal felt safe and secure to her, as if Kristoff were there. She took comfort in knowing, if anything would happen to him, heaven forbid, that a piece of him would live on through her. As her belly grew heavy with his child, Anna kept hope that the war would end soon and Kristoff would come home to them. She now spent her days preparing herself for the time when her pregnancy would render chores difficult: making medicinal herbs and remedies, loading firewood, gathering fruits and vegetables from her garden, hunting, hauling fresh water from the creek and the Delaware River and knitting. She made rare trips into town fully shawled and cloaked (trying not to draw unnecessary attention). On December 25, 1777 (just after midnight the morning of), with the help of Grandmother Redbird and two other Delaware women, Anna had given birth to an 8 lb. 4 oz. 22 in. long baby boy with a shock of blond hair and strong Nordic features. Looking at her son was like looking at a miniature version of Kristoff (father and son looked THAT MUCH alike). The moment her newborn boy was placed in her arms, Anna felt the crystal glow bright and warm. “I’ll name you Eirik Kristoffer Bjorgman. I love you, my son,” she said softly. The newborn looked at her with dark eyes that would turn brown. “Mamma hopes that your Pappa will be here soon. Mamma misses Pappa and Mamma knows you do, too. I wish your Pappa could have been here to see you being born.” The newborn looked at her and she let him nurse, hoping that Kristoff was okay, missing him more.

As the soldiers fought General Cornwallis’s red coats, Kristoff had felt pain and joy, wondering how and what Anna was doing. (I hope to go home to my love, soon) he thought as he fired his muzzleloader. (When I return to Valley Forge, I’m going to have Anna as my wife). Kristoff had fought bravely, earning kudos from General Washington. However the victory, all Kristoff wanted was to go home to his beloved Anna.

Eirik grew like a long summer day. Anna saw that her son looked more and more like his father every day. She wondered if Kristoff was okay and if he missed her as much as she’d missed him. (When he comes back from this silly rebellion, I will make him my husband) she thought. Anna had told Eirik stories that Kristoff had shared with her, the crystal always glowing bright and warm whenever she told her son the stories. After tucking him snugly into his little wooden cradle (she had gone into town to purchase it…or rather trade a healing poultice for the cradle), Anna climbed into her bed. Once she’d fallen asleep, she’d he’d a very vivid dream: so vivid, it felt as if she were there. She’d seen herself and Kristoff as lovers in different times and places from the dawn of time, to Vikings, to Rome, to the Mayflower, to the days of William Wallace to even Salem and the witch trials (which explained her aversion to fire and why Hans did evil things to her and to Elsa that led to Elsa’s death). Every lifetime, that crystal, all glowing and warm, was there. (That explains the crystal then! Kristoff is my soul mate. That’s why we’re together. We’ve been together in previous lives and that’s how we know each other) she thought as she sat up, the crystal warm and brightly glowing. She lifted the crystal, etched in runes, to her lips and kissed it, feeling as if he were there, too. (Please come home safe to me and to our son Eirik. We miss you) she thought, hoping he’d feel that, too.

One night, after a battle in Georgia, near the town of Savannah, Kristoff had bedded down for the night. So far, the colonial militia was proving victorious over the Red Coats. He’d felt bouts of loneliness and sensed that, even though he no longer wore the crystal, Anna was with him, which made fighting these battles bearable. As he folded his arms above his head and looked at the canvas ceiling of his tent, he thought of the connection he had with Anna. He had noticed that the crystal glowed hotter and brighter whenever they were together. He also pondered how he had seemed to know her but hadn’t met her until she’d rescued him from death. He closed his eyes, recalling a time in Northern Norway….

“Sit with me, grandson,” Mordr Bjorgman said, patting the space beside him as he watched over his reindeer herd. Kristoff sat beside him, holding an intricately carved wooden reindeer. He held the crystal in a small rabbit pelt. “Grandpappa,” Kristoff said. “What’s this glowing thing you are holding?” Mordr smiled. “This is a crystal. It glows because it had blessed by trolls. The runes that are etched on the crystal had been there since our Viking ancestor Johan had found it years ago,” Mordr said. “What kind of powers does it have,” Kristoff asked, in awe over the small gem. “Take off your mittens.” Kristoff did. Mordr placed the crystal in the child’s hands. “It’s warm, Grandpappa.” “Yes. It warms upon the touch. The trolls had told the Viking that the one who wears the crystal will be linked to their true love; be it here in this life, a previous life or a future life.” Kristoff stared at the crystal in utter fascination. “Does the legend work, Grandpappa?” “I don’t know. However, I’m giving this to you. Take good care of it. Perhaps it will reveal its secrets to you.” Kristoff handed the crystal back to Mordr and put his mittens back on. The elderly reindeer herder placed the crystal around Kristoff’s neck and they resumed watching over the herd….

Kristoff’s dreams turned to very vivid flashbacks; to the point that they felt real. He’d seen himself and Anna in various time frames: the Greek empire, ancient Egypt, the Viking days, Tudor England, the days of the Highland rebellion, up to the Salem witch trials. (The crystal’s legend is true! That’s how I know Anna! We’ve been together in various past lives! She’s my one true love) he thought, opening his eyes, moving his long blond hair out of his face and sitting up. He had to tell her but he had to wait, lest he be hanged for desertion. He hoped that this war would end soon so he could go back to Valley Forge and claim his bride.

Years passed. It was now October, 1781. The Revolutionary War was now over. General Cornwallis had finally surrendered in Yorktown, Virginia, the battle being over a month long. Kristoff was happy that the war was over. He would forever bear the scars a soldier would bear in the midst of war: the killing of men, the hard life, hunger, losing fellow soldiers, injuries. He had been stabbed deeply in the left thigh with a bayonet blade. The cut was deep and it did get infected. The good news was that he could keep his leg since gangrene didn’t set in. The bad news was that besides a ghastly looking scar, he’d forever walk with a limp, needing a crutch to walk with. He got onto the back of his horse carefully and made the journey back to Valley Forge, Pennsylvania…to Anna…to home. He hoped that she would still have him: battle scarred and not whole. He didn’t stop to make camp much, the need to be with his soulmate too great a need to ignore. He trudged onward, despite pain.

Anna was out in the vegetable garden, picking pumpkins so she could can, bake pies, bake breads and carve a couple with Eirik for Halloween. Eirik was in the barn, playing with the barn kittens (they were born three months ago). The crystal was glowing very bright and it was warm. She did feel pains in her left thigh, more so recently. She wondered if Kristoff was okay. Eirik would be four years old on Christmas Day. He knew about Kristoff and he wondered if he’d ever get to meet him. Anna had reassured Eirik that the day would come. She’d since moved her bed up into the loft and had made Eirik a bedroom with dressing screens. So far, it worked. She also rarely took him to town, for fear of him being ostracized as being bastard born. Anna wasn’t ashamed of her son but the townspeople might feel differently. The fine hairs on the nape of her neck prickled, her senses telling her that someone was near. She looked. No one there.

Kristoff had finally returned to Valley Forge. He was at the clearing leading to the cabin. Anna’s cabin was hidden in the forest and it looked the same. He caught a glimpse of her. She looked truly beautiful. Her strawberry blonde hair was plaited into twin pigtail braids and her dress was a deep blue. She wore his crystal still and had a basket and a pair of snips, snipping herbs and medicinal plants to use for healing. He dismounted and limped over to her. She looked up. The biggest smile lit up her face and she dropped her basket. She hitched her skirts and ran to him, crying tears of joy. Ignoring the pain in his leg, he ran to her, crying tears of joy. She jumped into his strong arms and they sank to the ground; hugging, kissing and crying, his blond hair loose about his shoulders since his ribbon came undone, his tricorn hat on the ground. “Kristoff,” Anna cried happily. “I’m so happy that you came back! I’ve missed you so!” “Anna,” Kristoff said happily. “I’ve missed you so much! We’ll never part again.” “We never did part. Our spirits have always found each other. We’ve been together in many a past life,” she said. “Yes. The crystal is our link. We’re destined to forever be together,” he said. They broke apart and went to the garden. “There’s someone that you must meet, Kristoff.” His curiosity was piqued. “Who, Anna?” She smiled. “Eirik, come here please?” Eirik came out of the barn.

Kristoff’s eyes widened in surprise when he saw the three and a half year old boy there. (That boy looks just like me. Could it be) he wondered. She’d read his thoughts. “He was born on Christmas morning in 1777. He was conceived our last night together when you took me to bed with you. His name is Eirik Kristoffer Bjorgman,” she explained. Tears streamed down his cheeks and he knelt down. Eirik saw Kristoff. He ran to him, little arms outstretched. “Pappa,” he said excitedly, going into Kristoff’s embrace. “Pappa! It’s good to see you. Mamma knew that you’d come home to us.” Kristoff hugged his son tightly, crying. “Eirik, my son. It’s good to finally get to see you! I’ve missed you and Mamma. I love you both,” he said. Anna sank down and hugged her boys, the reunion tearful but happy.

Hours later, after baths, a hot meal and talking about what had happened, Kristoff and Anna laid in their bed with entwined limbs, exhausted from reacquainting themselves with each other carnally, showing their intense love for one another. “We will go into town and marry in the morning,” Kristoff said. “Yes. We will marry although I feel married to you anyway,” Anna said. “I agree. Our should are eternally tied.” She rested her left cheek against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart as he lovingly stroked her back. “Your silly rebellion paid off,” she teased. “Yes. Thanks to the revolution, our son can grow up free and proud,” he said. They smiled, their souls content to be together, finding each other at every turn of life. They married in the church the next day with Grandmother Redbird and Eirik as witnesses. It was perfect and the crystal glowed bright in the chapel.

They’d built a beautiful life together in that cabin in the woods. Together, Anna and Kristoff welcomed three more children: two daughters, Laila Maria (born July 14, 1782) and Astrid Ingrid (born September 1, 1786) and one more son, Mordr Harek (born April 25, 1784). Their children flourished and eventually, Anna and Kristoff became grandparents, evoking old legends and weaving new ones. To support themselves and to make the cabin larger, Kristoff had farmed and built furniture. Anna made medicines from herbs and plants and the townspeople had allowed her to be a healer and midwife. Life was perfect, Anna and Kristoff forever basking in the deep, eternal love they had for one another.

On New Year’s Eve, 1808; Kristoff, having fallen ill to consumption earlier that autumn, had died peacefully in Anna’s arms. Having lost the ability to speak, the crystal conveyed his love for her and the promise that they’d find each other in the next life. He was fifty-eight. Anna, not being able to live without her beloved, succumbed to a broken heart. She was found by Kristoff’s grave on January 5, 1809. She was fifty-five. The crystal was given to Eirik for safekeeping…waiting for Anna’s soul to reunite with Kristoff’s soul in another time…another place…forever devoted to each other.