NOVEMBERLAND: the little shieldmaiden

22

It was the day of the celebration. I felt the same way each year, emptiness and loneliness. But it was always a nice celebration, and it made me cherish my father. I had lost a best friend, but he was still with me. He was one of the only reasons I was doing what I was doing, I wanted to make him proud. 

Earlier I had trained, but it was not for long. I had to prep myself, I could no longer put on a simple dress and do my hair as easy as possible. Alongside Helka there were three other maids helping me look nice. They scrubbed my body and used scented oils. My hair was braided back partially, and the rest of it hang down. Inbetween my hair small braids peaked through the thickness of my hair too. Around my eyes, they lined a slight line of kohl which was supposed to make them stand out. My dress was something else. It was in a colour called dark seafoam, and Viorica said it was like my eyes, only darker. It had fine embroidery around the waist, the shoulders and the arms. Small colourful jewels were placed in between the embroidery, and it made the dress sparkle when it caught the light. Helka wondered if I wanted to wear the belt, but I would not. I was not the shieldmaiden, I should not bear it if I was not. Viorica knew this, and she had made a simple belt with sapphire detailing, showing off the colour of Lynrike. It made my waist slimmer, although I believed the corset did a well enough job. 

The final touches were made, and there was only one thing left. My tiara, a simple silver tiara. It was nothing big, only a silver piece that stretched upwards from both sides meeting at a top in the middle. Underneath the tip a small sapphire was placed. It was not heavy at all, but you could feel it. 

When I was done getting ready I had some time for myself. I decided to write a runic letter to Father. 

Dear Father, 

I miss you, but I think you know that. Today it is six years since you reached Valhalla. It is not that long, but it feels like a lifetime for me. I'm doing everything I can to make you proud Father. You give me strength, and you will always do. Your death was wrong, but as you would say it may be because of what the gods have in store for me. I will do my best Father, I will fight, and I will stand my ground. I will live for both you and me, and I will make the name Esbjørnsdatter known over all kingdoms. Saga is my given name by you, and I will honour it. 

I miss you Father, din datter Saga.

I lighted the letter on fire right after that, hoping that it would reach Valhalla. The loss of him grew inside my body. I pictured his cold body again. I never knew what had happened to him, but I was only ten. It would be too much for a ten-year-old to know. Maybe nobody knew, maybe he was just riding, and then he just stopped. A tear ran down my cheek, and I quickly wiped it away. The kohl would be ruined. 

A knock on my chamber door made me come out of the thought about Father. I wiped my face gently again, as I welcomed the person in. It was Tyr, he was wearing the clothes of Fjella. A muted blue jacked with silver detailings. 

"Are you ready?" he asked and closed the door behind me.

"Yes, and you?" I asked and moved the candle I had lit the letter in from the window onto a desk. 

"Yes, Viorica is waiting at her chamber to talk to you before it all starts."

"Okay, will you follow me there?" I asked and smiled gently at him. We had prepared him for what to come the last few days. And he had talked to Alva a few times, just to make it not so weird at the celebration. It was expected a lot from him.

"You look astonishing Saga," he said as we got closer to Viorica's chambers were only Escans could hear us. 

"Thank you, you look well to in your colours," I said and looked up at him. His hair was groomed, kind off. The blond hair was still messy, but it looked better than this morning.