Out of Wendela

Chapter one of "Out of the Mountain" Sigrid leaves home for Asirven

Sigrid gave a slight yelp of pain as her lady’s maid, Neva tugged too sharply on her hair. “Sorry, miss,” Neva squeaked, Sigrid shook her head in response.

            “Neva, it’s just Sigrid.”

Neva gave her a tentative look, “ yes, Sigrid.”

            Sigrid gave her a brilliant smile as Neva finished braiding her hair into an intricate knot at the back of her head.

            Sigrid fingered the thin, pale blue fabric of her dress as she stood up and began the trek to the throne room, the gossamer fabric swaying as she walked. She noticed a couple of young courtiers giving her appreciative looks as she passed, and blushed. It wasn’t that she was particularly pretty, at least, not in her own head. Her hair was the only predominantly special thing about her. It was white and silver and when let loose fell well past her waist, other than this she was almost exactly like everyone else, only with more rounded features that she absolutely despised.

            She shook these thoughts from her mind, instead focusing on the light tapping noise of her shoes upon the stone floors; the sound made louder through the reverberations of the cold rock walls, which were interspersed with lights, tapestries and paintings, until she reached the impossible large doors of the throne room. As soon as she entered her adoptive father waved the courtiers to leave the room. Sigrid frowned as he did this, curiosity steadily growing. “You called Papa?” she questioned.

            Her father grimaced at the term of endearment he was normally delighted to hear. A feeling of dread began to fill her as she saw his expression. “What’s wrong?” she asked, brows furrowed.

            “Sigrid, as you know we have been at war for many years; both your parents passed because of this,” a look of sorrow flashed on both their faces before he moved on. “We have tried for peace many times but each has failed. It as become clear that there is only one way for peace to happen- a marriage to unite our countries.”

            “Yes but what-“ Sigrid began.

            “Sigrid, the king of Asirven only has sons.” Her father said with a pained look.

            A moment of confusion passed before realization dawned on Sigrid. They only had princes. None of her brothers could do this for her. The thought of marrying an Asirvenian prince repulsed her, but then she thought of her parents, her family, those with husbands, brothers, fathers, sons at war-and Sigrid was determined that no one else would suffer for her choices, she would not be the wink link. Sigrid had always been helpless to do anything. She would do this, no matter how awful an arranged marriage with one of them would be.

            Sigrid straighten herself and forced herself not to cry, she looked her father in the eye and nodded. ”When?”

            “You must leave immediately, I cannot come with you, but Berwyn and Ambrose shall accompany you. It will take three days to travel to the capitol, and you will marry seven days after that.”

            Sigrid nodded, fighting back her tears once more. “So this is goodbye.” She said, doing her best to keep her voice steady.

            Her father seemed to draw some strength , “So it is, though not forever.” He reminded her, and she was somewhat comforted. He stood up from his throune and walked down the stairs as Sigrid rushed forward to meet her father of 15 years, and uncle of three.

            “Goodbye,” she whispered into his jacked, muffled by the rough cloth.

            “Goodbye my dear.” They both sttod there for a few seconds, when Sigrid nodded, turned and walked out of the room repeating the phrase ‘not forever’ again and again in her head, taking no note of her location until she stepped into her rooms again, a multitude of servants bustling around her, packing her things.

            Neva grabbed her hand and took her into her bedroom, chattering on about the things that needed to be done as she helped her into her travel clothes and stepped out again. Sigrid sat numbly watching the maids packing everything, her mind wandering and stopped at the subject of the prince she was to marry, and hoping she wasn’t to become their future queen, she never did very well with politics and she panicked at the thought of having to deal with the subject the rest of her life. Sigrid grabbed Neva’s hand as she walked passed and started to ask before Neva shushed her.

            “You are to marry the King’s second born, Lukaas my lady. His brother, the crown prince Henrik, is already married.” Neva said before walking away.

            Sigrid nodded to herself before sitting back down. She gave a small sigh as she silently hoped none of the rumors of the Asirvenians were true. How awful would it be if they truly ate the weak! Sigrid panicked slightly looking down at herself before assuring herself that they would not eat the prince’s wife, or ruin their chance at peace, or would they? But what of prince Lukaas, was he kind? Was he handsome? Sigrid glanced at her books and hoped he liked to read too-did Asirvenians read?

            Sigrid got up and put her magic books in a box, she was not leaving without them. She had learned much about the art of magical healing through them after the death of bother her parents. Sigrid hoped prince Lukaas was didn’t hate magic like she was told so many of his people did.

            She was startled out of her thoughts and was surprised to see her seven brothers standing outside when she opened it, all slightly flushed and out of breath from running. They filed in (oldest to youngest out of habit). Peder, Ambrose, Wilhelm, Egil, Berwyn, Galahad and Odair all like ducks in a row.

            “We came as soon as we heard!” Berwyn, the most outspoken of them all, nicknamed ‘Bear’ blurted as soon as he stepped in, looking very distraught.

            “I’m sorry you must do this Sigrid,” Peder said. As future king he was trained to look calm in every situation, but allowed himself to show just how upset he was just then. “If there is ever anything we can do- just- just let us know.”

            Sigrid nodded as Ambrose stepped forward and gave her a hug and said in an outburst so rare for the politician “I’m sorry! If I had done more- revised the agreements or compromised mo-“

            “No, no Ambrose this is not your fault. It was not you who broke the treaties; therefore it is not your fault.” Ambrose stepped back, his eyes clouding in despair, “ I am more than willing to do this if it means peace, “ Sigrid paused and gave a small smile. “At least this way I am finally doing something for my country.”

            Her brothers looked as if they were about to say something but Sigrid shook her head, silently pleading for them to stop.

Peder nodded, stepped forward and placed his hand on her shoulder in an uncharacteristically affectionate manner, and said in a voice laced with vehemence, “Know this dear Sigrid, if the prince Lukaas ever hurts you, I will hunt him to the ends of the earth to exact my revenge.” A look of steely resolve passed his face as he turned away and walked out of the room, his younger brothers looking at each other, making an unspoken pact that they would all do so.

“Let us go Berwyn, Sigrid, we will meet you in the courtyard in one-quarter hour.” Ambrose said, attempting his typical mischievous grin. Bear looked at Sigrid for affirmation before trailing after their older brother, abnormally quiet.

“Sig, remember, you will be a princess there also, so don’t let them push you around. Always remember, stand tall; no matter how alone you feel, you never will be.” Odair, ever intuitive, instructed, giving her a meaningful look before embracing her and stepping back.

Wilhelm nodded, “Father always said, ‘being brave is not about being unafraid, but facing what you are afraid of,’” he tried to grumble his words to keep his appearance a strong military leader (even if Sigrid knew he was a big softy on the inside), before hugging her and taking his place beside Odair, looking massive next to the smallish 14 year old.

“Use what we taught you- if you don’t have a sword a kitchen knife will always work in a pinch!” Egil grinned, making Sigrid laugh, always lighthearted about life.

Galahad shot Egil a glare, ever serious, “strategy is important, dear brother.” This of course only made Sigrid laugh harder; her brothers could always lift her spirits.

“I will keep all your advice in mind,” she grabbed Galahad’s hand “I will write, if I can.” Galahad smiled and gave her a hug, although he was not normally a “touchy-feely” person. Egil followed his example and the brothers regarded her again before offering to assist carrying her things to the courtyard, which Sigrid promptly accepted. They filed out, Sigrid struggling to keep up with her brothers even though she was not burdened with luggage.

Sigrid slowed down as they passed a particular painting hanging just above the front entrance. The artist had flawlessly depicted her perfect mish-mash family just one year after her parents (including the king’s brother, Lars) had passed. The king took her and her two brothers, Wilhelm and Berwyn in. It was perfect, everyone was happy and together. The queen hadn’t died yet. Sigrid shook that morose thought out of her head as she studied her borthers’ faces again. She and Berwyn had not been quiet old enough to understand what had happened to their parents, but they both remembered how Will never smiled in that first year after they had passed, they first time was the day of that portrait, when the king and queen announced that another royal child would be coming in a few months. Will had called the king Papa for the first time that day too. Sigrid smiled at the memory she held dear to her heart and walked on, remembering how the Queen Winifred had cried with happiness at the word. She continued walking out past the carved oak doors that were the entrance to the palace and into the courtyard.

As she passed the precipice another memory passed into her mind, barely eight months after the family portrait was painted. Winifred had passed after going into premature labor, though her twin boys lived. Sigrid remembered how the entire nation mourned, how Peder, Ambrose and Will had all mad a pact that day,  to never let anyone else get hurt, least of all Galahad and Odair. They had never really thought of anything befalling her though, she thought. She had always given a self-sufficient air even at a young age, always joining the boys in training. Sigrid was never very interested in the boys of court so they had nothing to worry about in that area either.

Sigrid stilled as the carriages they would be traveling in came into view, the cool morning air making her shiver. Sigrid glanced around, noticing the small convoy of people who would escort her into Asirven territory before leaving her and Neva behind once the wedding was over. She stood silently as everything was loaded, wishing that all this was a nightmare, but knowing it was all too real. Neva suddenly grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze before leading her to the carriage. Sigrid was too numb to do otherwise, just wanting to sit down when she felt a pair of arms wrap around her.

“Good luck Sig,” Peder said.

Sigrid wrapped her arms around him, holding on as if for dear life, willing him to make it better. He let go all too soon before guiding her to her carriage where Neva, Ambrose and Berwyn were already waiting. Sigrid climbed in and her brothers gathered outside so say their final goodbyes before the door was shut. She faintly heard the coachman click his tongue and felt the carriage jostle into motion, lurching forward with a start, and watched the palace grounds outside fade away as the forest swallowed their group, now trudging along in darkness.