~BRIA~
"My name is Emblyn, I'm a Watcher for the King. But I'm going to assume you have no idea what I'm talking about."
Now clean, wrapped in furs, and a hot cup of something between her hands, Bria's mind was beginning to process what had happened. Or, at least, it was trying. But her brain was having trouble putting pieces together that were so obviously from entirely different puzzles.
She went through the moment on the mountain top, when the rock began to split. She had felt drawn to it, unable to look away. Had it been some sort of portal into the past? She'd seen stranger things at college. But that was crazy — a portal? Those kinds of things didn't exist outside of movies. But then what other explanation was there? She wasn't in Oslo anymore and she certainly wasn't in the twenty-first century, either.
"What's your name?"
Looking up from the edge of the bed where she sat, Bria met Emblyn's kind face. The woman hadn't left her side once as they made their way through the Hall below and into the stone castle that connected to it. A wooden staircase at the back of the Hall led to a number of rooms, like the one Bria now found herself in. It was a bedroom that was half the size of her one in Oslo. But then rooms were probably easier to keep warm in winter if they were smaller. The logical side of her brain was trying to make sense of the world around her, as she glanced at the tapestries on the walls and the fireplace.
The bed was a decent size where it sat in the center of the room, a thick wooden frame holding up some sort of mattress. A simple wooden table sat against one wall, a stool underneath it. The fireplace, situated to face the rest of the room, was almost up to her hips. The logs sat cold inside of it, the high sun of summer peaking in through the one window.
When her eyes finally made their way back to Emblyn's, Bria realized she still hadn't answered the woman's question. Swallowing down the irrational fear that she wouldn't be able to speak, Bria's voice was soft when she opened her mouth. "Bria. My name is Bria."
The smile that grew on Emblyn's face was worth the energy it took to speak. "What a beautiful name! Strong, too. I believe it means noble."
"Uh, yeah. It does."
Turning away from her for a moment, Emblyn held a dress in her hands when she turned back. "Here, let's try this on. I suspect you'd feel more comfortable with clothes on."
Although Bria definitely would feel better if she wasn't naked and wrapped in animal skin, she eyed what Emblyn held in trepidation. The garment in question was a long dress with two thin straps. It was deep green and had intricately woven details around the neckline and bottom hem in reds and golds. It was beautiful, if Bria was being honest with herself. But she also wasn't much of a dress person.
"Why can't I wear something like what you're wearing?" She gestured to Embyln's own attire of tight trousers, long tunic, and sturdy boots.
Emblyn's hand fell a bit, the dress hanging loose in her hand, as she looked at her own clothing. She cringed noticeably, "Uh—well, because you're not a member of the Guard. Or a Watcher, like me. So you should wear something more comfortable and less practical." She paused when she saw Bria's face, arched eyebrow and all. "Practical for fighting, I mean! The dress is very practical! And it has pockets!"
Bria snorted, unable to help herself. If only Embyln knew how funny that really was. But she wasn't giving up yet. "Fine, I get it. But what about something in between?"
Embyln hesitated a moment, the dress falling even further in her hand. "I—in between?"
Smiling, a familiar spark lighting inside of her, Bria outstretched her hand, "Yes, in between. Give that to me and I'll show you."
Standing in front of the mirror, or what could be called a mirror a good three hundred years ago, Bria smoothed the dress with her hands. It now ended just above her knees, which were covered in thick legging-like material. She had cut the under-dress down too, so it was just barely visible under the tunic. A sliver of white peeking out from the deep green.
Embyln handed her two circular pins, that would hold the straps of the dress-now-tunic closed. "I must say — that was impressive. I've never seen anyone sew that quickly."
Taking the pins in hand, Bria smiled. It wasn't the best job she had ever done, hand sewing or not, but it would do. She doubted any of these people would care if her hem was a little wobbly. As she studied the pins a bit closer, she realized they were gold and had carved ruins on their faces. "What do these runes mean?"
Embyln turned from her bent position, where she was picking up stray pieces of fabric that Bria had discarded. "Oh, they're for protection, health, things like that. Most are similar in style, although the Guards have pins with the head of the king carved into them." She made a gesture at Bria's head, "Now, let's do something about that hair."
With the second pin secure, and her tunic unlikely to suddenly give anyone a show, Bria turned. "What's wrong with my hair?"
It was a silly question, really. She had braided it that morning before her hike. But falling through a magic portal, landing in the midst of a war, and taking a bath in a barrel — her hair was a mess.
Emblyn patted the bed beside her, a friendly smile on her face and some sort of wooden comb in her lap. Taking a deep breath, Bria sat down beside her, turning her back to her new friend.
Was Emblyn a friend? She didn't really know what to call her yet. But the Watcher hadn't been anything but sweet, friendly, and understanding since Bria fell into this world. She figured she should at least give Emblyn some credit. And she knew that wherever she was and however she got here, she would need a friend.
"So, there's a king here?"
The braid in her hair was undone with gentle hands, the comb then brushed through it with just as much care. "Mm, his name is Alarik. He's a good man and a good king, don't worry about him. You met him, actually. On the battlefield."
Visions of blood and bodies filled her mind for a moment before crystal blue eyes overshadowed it all. So that had been the king, huh? She had sure made a great first impression.
Emblyn continued untangling and combing through her hair. There was something about having her hair brushed and played with that had always been able to calm Bria's mind. It wasn't long before the only sounds in the room was the wind outside and their breathing. Perhaps it was the calmness of the room, or the feeling of gentle hands putting smaller braids in her hair. For whatever reason, Bria was no longer worried about speaking her mind.
"Where am I?"
The Watcher didn't respond right away. When she did, her voice was guarded. "We call this place Volheimer — the Land in the Middle. The city you were brought to is Daganold."
"And where, exactly, is Volheimer?"
"We—We don't know. This land is all there is. All there ever has been. None of our ancestors have ever found another land, not over the mountains or outside of the Fjord."
Turning, pulling her own hair out of Emblyn's hand, Bria's brows pulled tight. "What? What are you saying?"
Pursing her lips, Emblyn's hazel eyes looked away as she spoke. "Long ago, the people of Daganold and our enemies of Feirgrund were at constant war. The gods, being tired of their fighting, sent them away. To Volheimer. We've been here ever since."
Bria felt her chest constricting of air. It was like she was falling through that damn portal again. Everything around her came rushing towards her. "You—you mean there's no way for me to get home?" She sounded like a child to her own ears.
Hazel eyes looked at her with such empathy and sadness that it took all of Bria's strength to hold in the tears. "No, Bria. There isn't."
Even though it was exactly what Bria had been thinking, it still wasn't easy to hear it. Her chest clenched impossibly tighter and her stomach felt like it might revolt. Her poor mother. Her father — he'd probably be frantic by now. A search party would be sent to the Fjord for her. There was no way she could get word to them. That knowledge was far harder than being stuck in a strange world by herself.
As if sensing her guilt and panic, Emblyn laid her hands on top Bria's and squeezed. "You are not alone here, Bria. I promise you that. Whatever comes and whatever goes, I will be here. I swear on Odin."
Taking a deep breath, Bria squeezed Emblyn's hands back. Unable to find her voice, however, Bria simply nodded before turning her back to the woman, again. Having her there, even a total stranger, gave Bria a little comfort. Emblyn had already proved herself to be a nice person. Bria didn't think it would be hard for them to become fast friends.
Her shoulder got another strong squeeze before Embyln went back to her hair. Although Bria had many more questions to ask, she didn't feel like asking them anymore. Not when thoughts of her parents were flooding her mind. The silence of the room was a comfort, the warmth of the fire helping to loosen the tension in her muscles. By the time Emblyn declared her work done, Bria felt calmer again.
"There, what do you think?"
Her hair fell loose around her shoulders, except for a number of thick braids here and there. The top half of her hair was braided back, away from her face, and clipped at the base of her skull. Tiny pieces of gold acted as rubber bands to hold the hair in place and the braids together. The sun gleamed off of the precious metal when she moved. Bria didn't think her hair had ever looked so good. "Emblyn, it's beautiful. Thank you."
The two women shared a smile before a knock sounded on the door. A young woman peeked her head through the door, bowing slightly before entering fully. "Excuse the intrusion, but a meal has been prepared for you. It is downstairs."