Urda - A Squire's Story

Amma's House

It is funny, how when one sees something so often that they forget it's being there. For a decade or more now Leander had overlooked the trio of severed hagraven heads that hung at his grandmother's door. Though, now he visited with Urda their existence was remember sharp and sudden. Urda, of course, had noticed them immediately: Leander could tell by the paling of the girl's face and the way her small hands now trembled at Sweetroll's reigns.

"They are very old," he offered hastily, nodding to the grisly trophies; all bound up by their own dark hair. "This is my grandmother's house," he continued, "She used to ride with the Companions."

He hoped that Urda had heard of the Companions, and in doing so might know that his grandmother was a honourable woman by that default.

"Come. She will want to meet you."

Urda remained quietly compliant as he lifted her little body down from the saddle and placed her upon her feet. She weighed about as much as a sprig of tundra cotton. If he had any hopes of turning her into a Knight, the first thing to do would be feed her, Leander thought quietly to himself.

He entered his grandmother's house without knocking and found the old woman dosing by the fire, as ever. The interior of her house was dark and dusty. A few empty bottles of mead lined the low table before her. Leander always wanted to clean Amma's house whenever he was here. Though, in his thirty three years of life he'd never gathered the courage to try it yet. Urda's eyes remained wide and watchful; she was staring at the large war axe that was mounted above the mantle.

"Amma," Leander called softly once, but the old woman failed to rouse. So he bent down to shake her fur-clad shoulder and repeated louder, "Amma!"

The elder awoke with a grumble and a hiss, instinctively swiping out at the hand that shook her and opening her misty eyes to the room.

"Amma, it is Lejon," Leander added as he removed his palm from her shoulder.

For a moment, Amma only scowled before shouting up at him, "What are you doing here?!"

She looked him quickly over from head to toe before adding, "Have you brought me any mead?"

"No," he responded bluntly, before stepping aside and gesturing to the meek girl behind him, "I have brought you Urda."

Amma's scowl immediately lessened as she leaned around the wide frame of her grandson to catch a glimpse of the girl. Leander beckoned for Urda to come forwards, and obedient as ever, she took step toward the fireside.

"Ahhh!" exclaimed Amma as Urda's red hair became illumated in flame, "Tis a good name. From the sagas. The Three Norns. Do you know them?"

Urda shook her head, but remained silent. Amma frowned again in response.

"A woman ought to know who she is. Sit with me, and I will tell you. Urðr," Amma patted the furs upon the bench beside her in invitation, before turning her eye and shifting her tone to address Leander.

"You. Go and cut me some wood and fetch my mead. Leave us." She barked harshly, though her voice shifted again when she added to Urda, "I want to talk with my Axe Daughter."

By now, Leander was quite accustomed to his grandmother's shifting moods and scathing tongue. So he only shrugged at her demands and turned to leave to room and adhere to them.

He went to fetch her mead first, before the roads got too dark. Upon his return, Leander could still hear the gentle murmuring of the women from within the house. So he left the bottles by the front door and went to the back of the house to the chopping block.

Darkness had encroached fully by the time his grandmother's woodbox was once again full. Leander returned once again to the front door, but the women /still/ murmured. So, huffing a sigh, he doubled back to the rear of the house, lit up a fire and sat by it.