§ § § - - October 7, 2009
Anastasia was this time napping in Leslie's old room when Roarke took Christian and Leslie to the time-travel room for their second excursions. "Go ahead and summarize for each other, as you did yesterday," he prompted.
Christian chuckled. "I remember the day when I horrified my sister by accidentally misnaming our original ancestor. I was twelve, and as I recall, I created quite the little stir. I think you'll enjoy this, my Rose. What do you have for me?"
"I know it sounds mundane," she said, "but you're going to accompany me and Mom and the twins on a major grocery-shopping trip. You'll learn a little more about the way Michael tried to dictate our lives even when he wasn't actually with us, and about the way the twins and I tended to interact...and there's a surprise for you at checkout, so try to be patient. I was twelve too, and it was in the Susanville Safeway—that's a grocery-store chain. We might all look familiar because it wasn't too long after the four of us had that family portrait done together."
Roarke chuckled at Christian's slightly dubious look. "Leslie has a special reason for presenting you with this memory," he assured the prince. "If you're both ready, you can begin now." He gestured to the two doors, and this time Christian and Leslie paused only long enough for a quick kiss before both disappearing through them.
§ § § -July 30, 1970
Leslie instantly recognized herself to be in the royal dining room, which apparently hadn't changed in some four decades at least. A quick scan around the table revealed the entire royal family as it had existed at the time: King Arnulf I, known as Ulf within the family; Queen Susanna; the future Arnulf II, sitting beside his brand-new wife, Kristina; Carl Johan, aged twenty; seventeen-year-old Anna-Laura; and twelve-year-old Christian.
She was quite surprised at sight of Carl Johan; he was handsome in a more rugged way than Christian, with a lean face that currently sported the shadow of an impending beard and a long Roman nose. He had the same cleanly sculpted jaw and the same straight, glossy chestnut-brown hair, but his build was a bit more muscular; she could see the faint bulges of biceps under Carl Johan's sweater sleeves. Wonder where he got those? she mused. She supposed it must have to do with all the landscaping he did around the castle; it was little wonder he was considered the family "looker" at this point in their history.
Her gaze shifted to Christian, who was already showing signs of the stunning good looks he'd soon acquire; he already had that elegant aquiline nose, and the grin he flashed at his older brother was a near-perfect replica of its current self. They were listening to Anna-Laura—a pretty teenager with long, poker-straight dark hair that perfectly fit the fashion of the day—explaining with great relish the research she was doing in preparation for applying to a national historical commission dedicated to preserving all structures and artifacts older than about a century.
Arnulf at 22 was a compact young man who resembled Carl Johan and Christian to some degree, but without their burgeoning attractiveness; Leslie could see that he looked more like his father than his mother. His hair was severely tidy, and his thin lips seemed to lend him a permanent look of disapproval. Kristina, a year older than her husband, seemed ill at ease; Leslie couldn't remember the date of their wedding, but it couldn't have been very long ago, judging from Kristina's furtive glances in the direction of the king and queen and her nervous silence. She alone sported a head of moonlight-blonde hair, parted in the middle and long and straight like Anna-Laura's. Kristina fielded a smiling glance from Queen Susanna and turned peony-pink.
Susanna, aged fifty-three here, was elegant and still lovely, though a bit older than Leslie remembered her being when Roarke had called her and Ulf out of their afterlives to speak with Christian a few years before. Her glossy straight hair, the chestnut color she had passed down to her younger three children, was shot through with silver strands. Of all her children, Leslie realized, it was Christian who resembled her most; he had her nose, her mouth, and the same facial shape. Only his chin and his hazel eyes were bequests from his father, to whom Leslie's gaze now shifted; at nearly fifty-five, Ulf possessed a strong, stern face decorated with a meticulously groomed mustache and a small pointed beard that Leslie thought was called a "Van Dyke". It was an old-fashioned style, but it suited Ulf somehow. She compared him and his firstborn son as she slowly circled the table to take a chair that had been pulled partway out from under the table on the side where Christian sat. She was very surprised to see that Ulf's features were actually classical in nature, and for the first time thought she could imagine what Queen Susanna might have seen in him. He was in fact more attractive than Arnulf, whose only redeeming feature seemed to be the mahogany-brown hair Ulf had passed on to him.
"I'm sure you'll get onto the commission, Anna-Laura," Susanna eventually said with that serene smile Leslie remembered from Roarke's meeting. "In fact, I think you've done far more research than you really needed to do."
"I meant to do it that way, Mother," Anna-Laura explained, tossing her head to get some of her hair back over her shoulder. She was a younger version of Susanna, except for the same hazel eyes Christian had. "The more knowledge I bombard them with, the more they'll have to realize they just can't afford to do without me."
Her older brothers laughed at that. "Trying to make yourself indispensable?" offered Carl Johan. "I knew you loved history, but I had no idea how deep it really went."
"I'm surprised," Anna-Laura said with a grin. "You know it's always been my favorite subject in school. If I can make some kind of career, or at least a difference, through my historical studies, the way you're trying to do with your horticultural ones, I'll be thrilled. It would be a dream come true. And I think, if I do make it onto that commission, I'll suggest we start right at the beginning of our history, with Magnus Ormssvärd and his deeds. I've always thought there should have been some sort of marker commemorating the Founders' Swim, even if we're not sure exactly where he and his men landed. And Father, have you ever really looked at the stone that marks his grave? You can hardly find it in the grass unless the cemetery lawn has just been mowed, and a lot of the runes are wearing smooth. It's a wonder anyone can still read them. Don't you think we should do something about that?"
Ulf, busy eating, cast his daughter an indulgent glance. "If you think it's important, Anna-Laura, then by all means see to it that something's done."
"You should concentrate on the grave marker first," remarked Christian, sticking a fork into a spear of broccoli so large it looked like a miniature tree. "After all, like you said, nobody knows exactly where Ormsskägg landed—" He registered the huge-eyed look of aghast horror on his sister's face, realized what he'd said and snickered sheepishly. "Sorry, I meant Ormssvärd..."
Leslie wasn't sure whether it was in response to Christian's mistake or Anna-Laura's over-the-top expression of horror; but whatever the cause, it was enough to make the entire family burst into laughter, including Ulf and Arnulf. She herself started laughing as well, realizing at last that this was in fact the origin of Christian's constant twitting of Anna-Laura by deliberately twisting Magnus Ormssvärd's Viking surname.
Anna-Laura was still gaping at Christian in offended shock. "Why on earth did you call him that?" she cried. "Fate take you, Christian, how disrespectful!"
"It was an accident!" Christian protested, rolling his eyes. "You act like he's a notch below the gods or something. He's been dead at least eight hundred years, so I don't think he's going to care if I call him Ormssvärd or Ormsskägg or Ormsspekk, for that matter."
"Christian Carl Tobias!" Anna-Laura screeched while everyone else broke down laughing. Christian just grinned; Leslie slumped in her chair with mirth, now realizing why Anna-Laura always took such exception to Christian's teasing about Ormssvärd. She should consider herself lucky he stuck with "Ormsskägg", she thought, watching her husband's twelve-year-old self start sawing his broccoli into separate parts with his knife. After all, "Ormsspekk" is a lot worse! When Christian started to laugh too, Leslie took in the wide-open amusement on the faces of Ulf and Arnulf, and got the feeling this was one of the few times Christian had ever managed to elicit any reaction from them that wasn't negative. He must really cherish this memory, she thought, still giggling. No wonder—I would too!
"All right, all right now," a laughing Susanna said finally, "I think we've had enough fun at Anna-Laura's expense."
"She doesn't have to take old Magnus quite that seriously, though," Ulf remarked, shaking his head and still grinning. It seemed to transform him and Leslie could suddenly see a bit closer resemblance between him and Christian. "In the end, even our first ancestor was just a human being. As for you, boy, now that you've provided the evening's entertainment, this might be a good time to go on to some other subject."
"Too bad," Carl Johan remarked, grinning. "That's the best laugh I've had in months."
"I had no idea he was as clever as that," said Arnulf, eyeing Christian with surprised interest. "That was actually pretty funny, Christian." He took in the dirty glare Anna-Laura favored him with and shook his head. "Stop taking it so personally, lill'syster. I don't think I could blame him if he started calling him Ormsskägg on purpose, if you're going to react like that." He leaned over to kiss Kristina's cheek. "You see there, we're not so stuffy and formal as you were afraid we are. Relax, Kristina min, and join in the conversation."
"Yeah," Christian said, "it's not like you have to sit here and have every meal with old Ormsskägg himself." Anna-Laura half stood up in her chair.
"Keep it up, Christian," she threatened, raising a fist.
"I probably will," Christian teased, smirking. "You look hilarious when you get mad." Carl Johan snorted with amusement again; Anna-Laura growled something Leslie couldn't make out, but it must have carried quite a stigma, for her parents, brothers and sister-in-law stared at her in amazement.
"Anna-Laura, let's not carry this too far," Susanna said. "That's enough, Christian. As your father said, let's talk of something else." But when the subject was duly changed, Leslie noticed her wink at Christian, whose wide grin was the last thing Leslie saw before the dining room and everything therein dissolved like dust around her and a door appeared a few feet away. Snickering to herself, she arose to let herself through it; Christian, she saw, had not yet returned from his experience with her memory, and she settled into a chair to wait, looking forward to hearing his comments on it.