I bring another Serfetta fic, with a hint of Anja.
I forgot to upload this a while ago, for someone who randomly messaged me asking for another one. I am super sorry. Here take this as tidings!
"Brrrr. It am colders thans the winters in Stockholm" Serveta pulled her jacket tighter and proceeded to walk to the house of Anja Wartooth. Over the years the Dethklok mothers have been spending quite a deal of time with one another. Molly and Rose would sometimes visit Stella and they would shop and go have themselves spa weekends. But Anja and Serveta would like to go out and have some fun with each other. They wouldn't do a lot,granted. They were so different. Anja spent most of her life following her church's restrictions and Serveta spent most of hers breaking every restriction possible. But they got along with each other more than with any of the other moms.
"Knocks knocks" Serveta slowly opened the door and peered in. Anja was at a small table reading. Serveta noted that it didn't look like a Bible, which made her smile just a little.
"Sos wat da plans today?" She asked once she was fully in the warm house and closing the door. Anja contemplated ideas but shrugged in the end. She really didn't know what to do. She was kept inside so long she didn't really know what to expect once she went outside.
"Wells I thinks we coulds gos walks arounds da towns. Dos some lights shoppins, maybes eats ats dat little cafes. Dens we hits the farmers markets for da wines and dinners. Hows dats? Serveta smiled at her silent friend. Its been a while since she could even talk to a friend with out having accusations made about her sleeping with their husband and now she is going out on the town one. She was grateful when Anja nodded and went to go get ready. She returned seconds later with the scarf she got when the mothers all went to visit their sons during the Christmas season.
"Oh, Anja." Serveta smiled.
Anja was trying a little everyday to come out of the strict shell she has been in most her life.
"Hows bouts wes haves yours hair down, huh." Serveta walked over to her and guided her to the small table. Anja was a little pensive but she allowed Serveta to remove her hood. A cascade of long chestnut brown hair streamed down Anjas back. Serveta couldn't remember the last time she saw such long hair. It was longer than all of Dethklok's hair combined.
"Anja yours hair. Its so pretties." Serveta stroked a few strands I her hand adoring the soft texture. The colour was a little dull and she had a ton of split ends, but it was so soft. Serveta went to retrieve her purse and brought out a hair brush she always carried with her. She sat behind Anja and brushed through the tangles. Anja was stiff. She couldn't remember the last time she brushed her own hair. It was probably before she met Aslaug and joined his church.
"Is may needs to cuts da splits ends. Nots too much." Serveta surveyed the hair. The split ends were pretty bad, the ends of Anja's looked frayed. The announcement gave Anja an idea. She stood from her chair and left the room. Serveta was confused, maybe Anja didn't want to cut her hair. In some religions it was deemed offensive. But she was surprised when Anja arrived moment later carrying a old photo. It wasn't even in a frame and it was torn at the edges. She handed it to the other woman.
"Is dis?" Serveta asked shocked. Anja just nodded.. She didn't even make eye contact. She knew that what was on the photograph was hard to believe.
"Yous looks... so differents." What Serveta really wanted to say was old. The photo was of a much younger Anja. Her hair was still long but it was neat and it was shiny. The young woman in the picture smiled and shined brightly in a white blouse and a long floral skirt.
"I sees. Comes Anja, sit" Serveta motioned to the chair before her. Anja obeyed abut continued to looked down in fear of judging eyes.
"The times was stressfuls for yous. But he cants keeps yous down." Serveta began parting some hair.
"Gets rid ofs da stresses and yous will be lookin's younger in noes time"
Anja heard a few snips and tensed. She tried to cut her own hair once after she met Aslaug, but faced a consequence afterwards. Serveta felt her tense and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder.
"God wonts be da angries for a few inches of hair"
She went back to cutting hair, and she ignored the shaking of Anjas shoulders as she wept