The Skabelse

Suit Yourself

Rowan had quickly taken a liking to Torvi, and in the past few hours she had learned much about her and Starke. It was only a day's ride from the High Palace and resided in a harsh northern land. They greatly relied on hunting to feed their women and did not let a single kill go to waste as they would use every inch of it for food, clothing, weapons and tools. Girls as young as four were taught how to hunt and clean their kills, and by the age of eleven most were avid and skilled hunters.

Rowan grew fascinated with not only Torvi but the small caravan of the Starke women with each moment that passed. Not only for the knowledge and stories they shared but because the majority had strange markings as their skin just as Bjorn had. She had never seen or even heard of a tattoo before she met the Roriks.

Torvi's had an intricate design from her chest all the way up to her jaw, covering her throat in intricate patterns and symbols.

"Did it hurt?" Rowan had asked, eyeing the dark ink.

Torvi chuckled and leaned back in her chair as the Gladeswomen and Starkewomen chattered before dinner. "Aye. I wouldn't recommend getting one if you have a low pain tolerance."

Rowan had shot her a grin, "Can't be too bad," she teased, thinking about the previous weeks. If I can get through Lucian's torture a simple tattoo should be child's play. She had always thought of herself as a strong Gladeswoman and would welcome the pain brought on in a spar or battle. Whenever she or Darsa needed sutures they would even see who could go the longest without flinching from the bite of the needle.

"What say you about obtaining one?" Torvi asked with a glimmer of mischief in her eye, "I would consider it an honor if you would allow me to give you a tattoo."

Rowan let the idea bounce around in her head for a moment and pursed her full lips. She wondered if her mother would approve of it. Shrugging her shoulders, she nodded her head, "I think it would be enthralling to get one. Will you do it for me once all of this is over?" she had asked. If she were to get one, she wanted it to be a reminder of their victory over the Brotherhood as well as this chapter in her life. In the past month and a half, she knew had changed in many ways. No longer was she the naïve girl who hated men that left the Glade with forty-nine other Sisters. Her morals and principles had been chipped away as if by a sculptor with a hammer and chisel. Every man was no longer considered her enemy and every woman was no longer considered a friend. She had both gained and lost people she cared about and had been hurt in ways she could have never imagined in such a short amount of time.

Torvi smiled and gave a quick nod before she decided it was time for dinner.

Together the women walked to the main dining hall, passing by Rollo and his men who were devouring legs of mutton on their way out of the kitchen. They gave the women hungry looks that could not be satisfied with mere food and went on their way to figure out their sleeping arrangements within the palace.

"I really do abhor them. They make them Roriks look like angels," Meliana muttered, giving one last deadly glance over her shoulder at the Bluegardes.

Queen Lana placed a soft hand on the small of her back to usher her forward. "We must forget of their past actions and focus on the future until we can return home. Only then can we dwell on them," She detested the Bluegardes just as much as Meliana but knew that unity was needed to overcome the Brotherhood and as queen she must set a good example for her Sisters to follow.

The women continued walking through the immaculate corridors until they came upon the dining hall, which had now gained another table for the increased amount of guests.