Wow, it took me so long to update this, not even funny as to how much I've prolonged it. I'd like to thank the three people that reviewed the first chapter; bandgeeks101, Xlady-ZoZo_The-Pict-PrincessX, and milou. Kind of went through and edited it a little bit, so its hopefully a tad bit better then before. So here it is, after who knows how long. -Mandy
(Fierce and Undying Ways)
It had been years since that day. And during that time young Torne had developed into a full-grown woman, able to bare children, and graced with beauty. Many of the woman folk said she looked like her mother, blessed with blonde curls and long limbs, but had inherited too much of her father's demeanor that even the most daring of the young men in the tribe were reluctant to make her his wife. Men could handle chastisement from his woman, but they most certainly wouldn't allow her to carry the crossbow in the relationship.
" Torne, you silly girl. You have chores ta tend to," the scratchy and aged voice of her mother scolded, hitting at the mat of hay with a stick to startle her late rising daughter. "It should be a mark 'gainst the gods for a young springing' woman to be so sleepy. I'd give the breast you and yer brother suckled on for yer youth.
" I'm up," Torne groaned as the stick made contact with her ankle. Her thin hands massaged the already swelling welt, her lip curling from the pain. What she didn't want her mother to know was of her late night adventures off with a certain young member of the tribe…Gods forbid if the word reached her fathers ears. He may have aged greatly, but a walking stick serves as a versatile weapon as well.
" Good, 'cause when Lancelot returns, I want everythin' ready fer him," Torne sighed and brushed back the golden red hair that laid in long curls, covering her bare breasts and running down the middle of her back," Git dressed an' help beat out the blankets," the woman left as quickly as she could, the hurry of the day having taken over everyone in their nomadic tribe, excluding Torne.
" Yes, mother," she sighed and pulled herself from her bed. It seemed her mother was always upset with her these days. The unmarried daughter of hers seemed to become more and more stubborn about the ordeal the older she got. There were so many potential young men in the tribe and she preferred to waste her adult life wild as the untamed horses, dreaming of a venture across the world. As far as her parents were concerned, a young woman who was unwed at her age only served as a burden on her family. They would never say so, but it was true. The longer she prolonged marriage, only served to hurt her family's gain.
Silently, she slipped a stiff wool dress over her head and brushed her bony fingers through the knots in her hair before hurrying out of the opening to the hut.
" Ah young Torne," an older man nodded, caught off guard by the sudden movement. He regained his grip on a thick log and adjusted it so it was on top of the other timber. Inclining her head a bit, her eyes questioned his intentions. A fire? This early in the day? " I'm preparing' the welcoming' celebration for your brother. Tis six months after his departure fifteen years ago. Enough time for him to return to us no?" he answered her unasked question then smiled lightly and stepped shyly away, allowing her to return to her chores.
" Aye, I am happy fer it too," she grinned and walked passed him, working her way over to the outskirt's of the village were the woman were tending to the clothes and watching over their playful younglings. It didn't feel like such a long time from the time she herself had run amongst other children. Her brother always watching over her…A smile pulled itself into place at this thought. How much had that boy changed over this time? If he had changed as she had, then let the god's take credit for a strapping lad.
" Torne. Glad ta see you finally woke to help," one of the younger woman teased, handing her a rope and pointing to a wooden pole. Torne took the end and ran it through the hollowed out end, fastening the end and stepping back. Her eyes flickered up to her friend. Saamik. She had been a fellow playmate as well, and yet Torne couldn't remember a single memory of a younger Saamik like she could Lancelot.
" Ya know, Torne," Saamik smirked and pointed off toward the pack of men near by," Oden has been lookin' at you,"
" Hush, Saamik," Torne's mother hissed, trying divert the gossip from her daughter's inability to get a man to marry her.
" He has though," Saamik giggled and started handing the blankets to other woman to hang up," Young, strong, handsome," Torne ignored her, placing a stiff wool blanket on the line," You need a husband, Torne. It's our way of life. You marry to be protected, to keep the village going. I'm happy and content with Brokk," Torne never said anything, but sometimes she couldn't stand the woman here, so willing to settle with the first man who showed interest in them. Sure Oden was a fine man, but she was looking for something...something that didn't involve a life time of birthing many wild children and tending to his every desire.
"Saamik," Torne stopped," I hear Brokk, despite his broad shoulders, lacks in other areas," Torne propped the wooden stick between her legs and began to crack up.
"TORNE!" her mother shrieked in humiliation as Saamik blushed and playfully whapped her friend's ankles. The laughter calmed a bit after awhile, and the woman began to pick up their pace.
" I wonder how Lancelot turned out," her brother's name pulled her back into the loose conversation that was being maintained.
" Aye, all those years of fightin'," the younger girls giggled as Torne rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but smile as well.
" Ya are speakin' of mi brother here. There is no way the likes of him could grow into the man ya guys are thinking' of," there was a loud snicker before the rest burst out into their own laughing spells, even the older woman couldn't help themselves.
" Yuh, the little pest. He was an adorable child though," Her mother joined in, finishing on the her set of blankets, and piling them up.
" I guess we'll just have ta see won't we? If Lancelot is quite the man or if he is like his father," both Torne and her mother looked up, glaring at first, but then easing into the jest a bit. The woman remained on with their converse of children and simple daily lives. It seemed that Lancelot had drifted out of their minds for the time being, but whom could really blame them? After all it had been fifteen years since any one had really ever seen him. Torne pondered over a few possibilities, what if he really wasn't coming back? He could have turned into someone she wouldn't be able to consider her brother. Torne only had to see the look in her mother's eyes to shake the ideas away. It didn't matter what he was like, Lancelot was family, and her father's son. As her father's son, he would never break a promise. He would come riding home to them and that was that.
Names All names were Norse, since I couldn't find any Sarmatian ones. Torne is a newer one, but a female one. Oden is a male name that means rage or frenzy. Brokk is a dwarf that made Nordic god Thor's hammer. Sigrun is from a Valkyrie (Female warrior) meaning victory secret
