"There's rosemary; that's for remembrance. Pray you, love, remember. And there is pansies; that's for thoughts. I would give you some violets but they withered all when my father died. They say he made a good end. And there's forget-me-nots; pray yo...
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NOTICING THYRA FLAUNTING the jewelled necklace she had been given from the boy across the field, Greta continued fiddling with the small needle in her nimble fingers. She had become a master in the art of sewing, courtesy of the teachings from Sigrid, the wife of Earl Ragnar the Fearless. The young woman herself had been flooded with many marriage proposals however the Earl had declined all of them, stating his own daughter should marry first. Now that Thyra was to wed in the morning, Greta was quite afraid that she would follow suit rather quickly.
Thyra was eager to marry, to bear children and play the role of a dutiful Danish wife. Not one person could convince her otherwise. Her brother, at least a decade older, dubbed "Young" Ragnar, had not even married yet. Ragnar was a man who liked to sow his wild oats and marriage was the furthest from his mind as he travelled to Ireland to conquer and make a name for himself just as his father had once done. He would miss his only sisters wedding however it did not deter Thyra from holding it off, something Greta would not have minded.
Greta, on the other hand, did not mind the duties of a wife such as keeping the house, mending the fabrics, tending the animals and even caring for the children of the village. She preferred the times she spent swimming in the deep clear waters, the moments she held a book in her hands and the fun she felt when teasing Uhtred and Brida about their feelings for one another.
"Brida, not that way. Take the goat outside." Sigrid spoke as Brida, another Saxon girl Ragnar had taken from Bebbanburg as a slave years ago, walked through the barn they were decorating with a goat buried in her arms.
Brida chuckled to herself. She was a rule breaker, she pushed boundaries, but she was a good woman and an excellent fighter despite Ragnar's many pleas for her to settle and marry. "Next time, I promise."
"Mother, Greta, look." Thyra whispered, flaunting the necklace once more before them.
"It's beautiful. It really is. I can't believe I'm losing you already." Sigrid muttered sadly as she stopped halfway up the ladder to the second platform.
Greta smiled back at the girl she had become to know as 'sister' as Thyra said, "I will be living across the field."
"And if he doesn't treat you well, you come right back across that field." her mother stated.
Greta often wondered what her life would be if she had never been taken from her life in Bebbanburg. Her mother had died months shortly after childbirth from infection while her father was a baker and provided very little for his daughter. She had become close with a boy named Osbert, the second son of Lord Uhtred of Bebbanburg, as they were around the same age, give or take a couple of years. She spent much time with him and was there to witness his second baptism as Uhtred, son of Uhtred, when his elder half-brother, the original Uhtred, had been beheaded by Earl Ragnar during a raid on the beach.
