For The Sake of Revenge

III~Chapter 10: Smoke and Mirrors

I was with Millicent, at the traders market, in the division of fabrics and spices, both of us searching for the most perfect fabric for her wedding dress. Millicent had not wanted to wear pale colors as was custom in Angleterre. Her reasoning was that she had already been married once before, and had worn a pale nun's robe. She had no need to reminesce or downplay what she had with Hvitserk by wearing a similar dress for her wedding to him. She had no worship in her heart for her dead husband, and therefore saw no need to continue with her own tradition.

"I am now wife of a viking," she explained to me. "I have no home in Northumbria. I have no family left. My way of life is no more. Hvitserk's way of life is mine now."

Truer words have not been spoken. I suppose it was a trend where freedwomen adopted and adapted to the way of life that they had been originally ensalved into. There was no other way to survive. I felt less guilty about giving up a core part of myself when I saw other women do it. Still, I know that in our hearts, sometimes, we reminisced. I reminisced. But Millicent was different, and for good reason, therefore I could not judge her for it. Even if she didn't, what right did I have to judge?

"I hear you," I gave her an assuring pat on her shoulders. What more can I say to that? We were both the same in that way.

So we both took to shopping for the darker colors, something more austere. So far we had come across a collection of satins and silks: wine reds, royal mauve, and teal. Millicent had liked all of the colors so it presented with somewhat of a dilemma for her.

"I am not so sure which one I would like for my actual wedding," she had bitten her lip. "Hvitserk tells me to buy what I want but it is quite costly."

Like me, Millicent had trouble understanding viking money. What was cheap, what was expensive, what was appropriate. We had difficulty bartering and we had difficulty making decisions on costly purchases. But the Ragnarssons were rich from their annual plunder, and the war on Aella had made them and their protectorate rich beyond belief. So money was never an issue.

In the end we had decided on deep purple fabric, with custom-made ornaments to hide the seam of the leather straps. It was more for a warrior-image. Millicent was no warrior. But Hvitserk was, and she wanted to represent him. When asked if there was something about her self that she wanted to represent in her dress her reply was that purple had always been her favourite color. She owned nothing purple but the nobility whome she served had favoured that color and she always thought it lovely. 

"Have the order sent to Jarl Hvitserk," I instructed the vendor. "Make sure it is delivered cleanly, with no frays."

"Of course, Fraue Ivar," the merchant bowed deeply. We continued on our journey to explore more items for her wedding. I had my book with me, making note of everything that she had wanted to consider later.

"Should I buy something, for the night?" she asked me quietly, clearly referencing the wedding night.

"Oh, yes, certainly," I nodded eagerly, unwittingly thinking back to my own wedding night. In the end I hadn't gotten the chance to wear my little gift for him that night. But our subsequent days together were almost like a dream. That dress certainly helped speed things up. "I had something for mine. But Hvitserk will not care anyways."

Millicent blushed, her eyes downcast, but then her hand came up and stroked her deformed cheek. I felt heart drop with sympathy. Many women here wore their scars very proudly, and they were truly fearsome to behold when they were plundering. But outside of the seasons of plunder, it was as though there was a switch on society and they were no longer paid homage to.

Millicent was neither a shield maiden nor was she saxon. She was simply a freed woman so her scar carried stigma where there was no switch on society for. So often. In public, she wore veils and facial coverings that were not out of place in this cultural metropolis that was Kattegat.