Oathkeeper

Chapter 67: Skin Changing

Ilizabeth squatted over the trench with both feet flat on the ground as she held her breath. It had recently been soiled in, and although a pile of dirt was always thrown over it, it reeked a rather offensive stench. Chamber pots, it was another thing she could add to her list of simple things to appreciate when she arrived back home. She hated using the latrines. She hated having her bare bottom out in the cold, and having to use a folded leaf sheet to wipe. The entire process was something she quickly deemed foul and unlady-like.

Ilizabeth released the fabric of her long coat before grabbing the shovel to toss the dirt on top. She spun in a complete circle on her toes, circling for a bucket to wash her hands in with no luck. Soap and water. Another thing to add to her list. She retreated to the pathway, trying her best to shut out the thought of each and every germ residing on her hands while she walked back to Jon's hut. There were two latrines built along the path, and the closest was still somewhat of a walk from home.

Once the unnerving restroom situation idled in her mind, she refocused her attention to her clothing. Ilizabeth practically bounced as she trudged through the snow in her new hefty fur coat and pants. The freefolk may have jested about her fancy warm castle forged clothing, but their overcoats were practically impenetrable. For the first time in days, she truly did not feel an ounce of cold anywhere except her face which remained exposed to the freezing temperature. It was always more manageable in the daytime anyways, and the sun had been radiating its warmth over the village for a few hours now.

Just as she began to think of how kind Lady Shyra was for making her clothing so swiftly, she saw the woman approaching her with Mundy, Joramun, and Sharma. The children were the first to notice Ilizabeth as they quickly grew attached to her in just a few short days. It all started with their obsession with her bright blonde hair, then it was her family, then it was her castle and anything else that stood apart from their expectations about those born south of the wall.

Ilizabeths gaze inevitably lingered on from the children, now stopping at Mundy. It was clear Mundy was uninterested in crossing paths with the princess as Ilizabeth watched her try to pull her mother and siblings in the other direction, but it was too late.

"Ilizabeth!" They shouted simultaneously before taking off.

The snow they kicked up in their trail fell into small piles as they rushed towards her with their arms spread wide. A wide smile grew on Ilizabeths face as she knelt down to embrace them. Because they were still children, they were still relatively small. But the "giant" gene Tormund proclaims to have, hasn't seemed to skip a single one of his offspring. Sharma and Joramun were pretty solid sized children who hit Ilizabeth like a rock against a pile of snow.

"Hello you two," Ilizabeth laughed while trying to catch her balance.

"Are you coming to supper again tonight?" Sharma asked, looking underneath her wavy copper bangs.

"As long as I am invited, I shall never stop coming back for more of your mothers delicious stew," She grinned.

"Will you tell us that story again? The one where we live inside the eye of Macumber the giant," Joramun waved his arms around, flashing his missing teeth as he smiled.

"Of course,"

By the time Ilizabeth rose back to her feet she stood in front of Mundy and her mother. The young girl still towered over both women as she looked out beyond the lands, slouching in disinterest. Shyra carried a woven basket full of mixed foods; carrots, apples, and potatoes, on one hip and a few folded fur cloths in her other hand. She smiled warmly as she approached Ilizabeth slightly panting.

"Hello Ilizabeth,"

"Hello Shyra, Mundy," Ilizabeth smiled.

"Hi," Mundy said plainly.