Lindorm Princess

Chapter 1

I watched a pale sliver of moonlight creep through the thick woolen curtains, as I tossed and turned. The straw tick mattress was lumpy under my back, and the duck feathers of the duvet poked my skin, leaving white lines of scratches. 

No matter how I tried, I couldn't seem to get comfortable. I was too hot under the blanket, and cautiously poked a leg out. It was no use- the air was too cold for me to get comfortable. Grey Mis, the cat yowled as I accidentally kicked her, slipping my foot back under the covers. I mumbled an apology, but she slipped between the door crack into the hallway.

Daylight would come soon enough- far too soon. The sun had barely set. Such were the days in summer: long, lazy, yet full of work to be done. Far would head to the fields in just a few short hours.

I shifted again and willed sleep to come. It felt as though I had barely closed my eyes when the roosters crowed their morning alarm. I grumbled and kept my eyes closed. Mor would come and get me after their second call and I didn't intend on leaving my bed a second sooner.

Soon enough I heard the door slam from across the courtyard as the roosters screeched again- the sound of Far leaving for the fields. Time to get up and start on the never-ending chores. Our farmhouse was made to shelter at least eight children, with its two separate L-shaped buildings, but Mor and Far had only been blessed with one child- me. Far was still bitter that I was born a woman. He said I forced him to pay for more field hands.

We sometimes relied on the good graces of our neighbors to fix a leaky roof or patch up a cracked wall- but Far was too proud to hire a local boy- or five to help us. He would only hire two to help him in the fields. This meant that each day, Mor and I struggled with the lion's share of housework, mending, and ensuring the animals were tended to.

I rose from the scratchy bed, my linen shift already clinging to my sweaty body. I only had two sets of underclothes though, and I wanted to save my cleaner shift for the evening after a hard day. I attended to my toilette, washing my face and hands in the flat clay bowl, catching the glimpse of my plain face in the waters reflection. I scowled at my dishwater blond hair, and round face.

Mor rapped on the door.

"Lise? It's time to wake up now."

"I'm already up," I called, tying the ribbons over my garters, and slipping my feet into the practical leather shoes. Every day seemed like endless ties and knots in my skirts and clothing- tying every morning and untying every night. The same routine, every single day. My poor hands were rough and scaled from the farmwork, and I was certainly no beauty.

My calves and thighs were thick and strong, and my waist slim but sturdy like a tree, I lamented as I tied my stays. I yanked the strings a bit tighter, wishing it would whittle my figure down just a tad- and immediately released them.

I was not a fancy lady. I needed my lungs to breathe deeply as I ran after our fowl, and enough slack in my stays to be able to bend and milk the cow. After tying the pockets and petticoats in place, I tucked the neckerchief into the stays. The sun reddened my skin and made it shed, if I wasn't careful. As hot as the neckerchief and the jacket were in midday, I would rather endure the heat over spoiling my complexion further. The apron was the last element. I had sewn five different aprons, because I always soiled them before laundry day, by wiping my dirty hands all over them.

Periodically, Mor would remind me that my youth would be fleeting, and it would be best for me to marry soon. My youth was the only advantage I had, because I was so plain. I dreamt of waking up with my hair turned to a glossy brown or silvery blond. Even a tinge of red would have been preferred- anything to distract from my boring, sallow face.