1331 - Sacrifices Must be Made
Author's note: There are some very difficult themes throughout this chapter. CWs have been placed accordingly but please mind yourself while reading them. The nature of the medieval era sets in...
The cold may have been bitter outside but the love was deeply warm inside the Chapman abode during the winter months. Lana's second pregnancy was going by as smoothly as it could and she was delighted to experience less moments of morning sickness by her second trimester. She was just as vigilant about keeping herself safe and healthy inside the home as she was during her first pregnancy and she had a brilliant companion this time.
Little Bercthun was beginning to take his first wobbly steps and his mother was there to steady him and mind his head when he inevitably fell backwards. The attention he was getting from all of the adults would make strangers think he was spoilt beyond a typical peasant's standards but soon things would change once his sister or brother would come into the world. The due date was uncertain but Lana believed her next labour would begin sometime midway through spring.
And so the mother and son would spend their winter moments huddled near the fire in their wooden home and she would listen to his babbles and slowly but surely teach him all sorts of manners and words that would help him in the future. His semi-toothed smile warmed her heart and eased any worries she had about having another babe in their family soon.
Bercthun was also beginning to share many similarities to his father in his appearance. He had the exact same light blond hair and pale blue eyes that Osuald had and even his button nose looked extremely similar to his. The only thing that he inherited from his mother was his complexion, soft and buttery smooth skin with a tone that looked a lot like freshly chopped birch wood.
The snow piled on up outside and it prevented any farming or fishing to be done during the beginning of the year. Once it began to thaw away Osuald could at least bring his horses on a quick gallop across the frozen fields and see how the nearby villages were faring. Byrhtnoth on the other hand would handle the care for the horses, brushing and cleaning their hooves inside the warmth of the stables and feeding them some dry hay.
On occasion, Byrhtnoth would also ride one of their two horses purely for nostalgia. The days when his joints didn't ache as much he would saddle up and lightly trot down the dusty paths near their home. On such days he would find himself visiting his two daughters and checking in on his grandchildren. During one of these visits in Februrary he learned that Lavina was with child once more and delighted to have another child with Bobby by the end of the year.
As the weather lightened up and the snow was all but gone Byrhtnoth also decided to fish for leisure and not survival like he did in his youth. He stood at the small pond where he taught many of his children to fish at and couldn't help but smile while he reminisced the entire time he was there. Gloria stood close by and grazed on the grass keeping the old man company.
In Lana's last term of pregnancy Osuald spent more time with Bercthun while she maneuvered around her daily chores. It started to become a growing struggle as her big belly got in the way of bending down and standing up as easy but she didn't want to shirk any of her duties of being a housewife.
Osuald witnessed Bercthun take his first independent and confident steps and exclaimed in joy at the sight, enveloping his son into a hug and praising him for his milestone. He called over Lana, who was washing their dirty linens in the basin downstairs, and she climbed upstairs to see her son excel in balance.
They sat Bercthun on the rocking horse in the same room and while he was enjoying the swinging motions Lana took a moment to thank her husband for everything. She was truly proud to see what a wonderful father he had become and was grateful with all of her heart for every effort he made to sustain their family. She embraced him lightly and relished in his scent before pulling away to see the goofiest yet most adorable smile on her husband's face.
The Chapmans continued their tradition of a game of dominoes every Sunday and halfway through April Osuald was the first to be ready for their match of logic and strategy. He sat down at the table and leaned back, stretching his legs out under the table and glancing out the window. Outside he saw Lana gathering their dried clothes and his father leading the horses back into their stable. It was a peaceful scene, two people that meant a great deal to him in the motions of their daily responsibilities. Bercthun was taking a nap upstairs and the home was silent.
He watched them outside but especially kept his eye on Lana and thought to himself, how did I get so lucky? He was deeply in awe of her beauty, even to this day, and only believed she grew to be prettier with each year. He could really see and understand the glow that pregnancy brought on women. She was radiant, healthy, gorgeous. Osuald made a deep sigh out of love and couldn't imagine how much better his life could get after they have their second child.
Just as they all sat down for their game of dominoes Lana grunted and hunched over from pain and the men stood up in shock. She waved them off, explaining it was only the first contractions as she was due to give birth in a matter of days but nothing to worry about, yet the men found it difficult to continue focusing on their game. It was only after she felt her water break all over her chair and dress that she agreed it was go time.
Byrhtnoth took the lead in delivering his next grandchild once more yet Osuald paid close attention to the birthing process nearby, helping with any supplies they required while also tending to Bercthun when he needed to distract him from Lana's painful screams. She hadn't forgotten the labour pains after last time but she hadn't missed them either.
She grew impatient once the sky began to grow dark and as she had been in labour for almost a full twelve hours Byrhtnoth instructed Osuald to go fetch her a meal and keep her strong through this physical process. He ran downstairs and made a quick helping of porridge and milk and rushed to deliver it to his wife before she could deliver their baby!
He fed her gently until she felt like she couldn't eat any more from the constant pain she endured and so he busied himself with tending to Bercthun's needs. Before they knew it Lana was doing her last pushes and Byrhnoth prepared the clean linens to handle the newborn with. The two men stood at the foot of the bed and encouraged Lana through the entire ordeal and soon they saw a baby emerge.
It screamed out a crackling cry as it took its first breaths and Lana breathed out loudly once it was out of her body. As Byrhtnoth wrapped the baby up he announced to the couple that it was a little baby boy and the young couple smiled at one another. Lana's tired face was content with the news before she curled up from a shooting pain and her expression twisted into agony.
CW: blood, difficult birth.
Osuald dropped to his knees by his wife's bedside, looking at her with wide eyes. Her labour had been painful but different last time, there were no sudden shrieks of agony after the baby was brought into the world... what could this be? Lana's throat closed up from her tensing and when she opened her eyes to look at her husband they were filled with panic.
"Something... something is wrong," she whistled as she groaned deeply. She began to clutch at her inflated belly and kick her legs in torture and the men could finally see it. Blood, lots of it, pooling underneath the young mother and soaking through the bedsheet fast.
"W-what do we do?!" shouted Osuald at his father. Byrhtnoth's eyes darted around the scene before he handed the newborn to Osuald.
"Take him, I'll begin cleaning her up and see where the bleeding is coming from."
"But-" Osuald attempted to retort as his hands shook taking his son into his arms but was interrupted by his father shouting louder,
"NOW!"
Osuald looked back at his wife but had to tend to his newborn son who was still gurgling small cries, uncomfortable to be outside of his mother's warmth. Bercthun began to grow curious and peered from the other room. His father quickly distracted him by showing how he was cleaning his new brother, talking through the process to calm himself down.
Byrhtnoth dipped linens into the warm water they had prepared and tried his best to calm Lana down while cleaning the crimson blood from her legs and attempting to find the source of the bleed. It was unstoppable, the blood that pooled was double the quantity of what Byrhtnoth could clean with his speed and soon he understood her loss was coming from inside of her, a place which he could not enter to find the source and stop.
"Oh, Watcher, please help me," Lana cried in desperation as she writhed in between the sheets and Bytrhnoth's eyes began to well up with tears. He thought for a moment if things would have been different if a midwife was hired for this moment but he had never heard of any women surviving a bleed this big after birth.
"I'm so sorry Lana," the old man whispered to her. "I... I don't think there's anything I can do to help you."
Her eyes widened as she processed this information before her lips curled into a mortifying realisation of mortality. She howled out a cry, echoing against the walls of the home, and soon Osuald ran back in with the newborn in his arms. The withering mother and the helpless grandfather stared back at him and Osuald's heart began to drop. Byrhtnoth stood up as quickly as he could and gently took the newborn from his son's arms as he quietly said,
"Lana will not survive this... spend time with her while you can."
"Why, why is this happening?" Osuald spat in disbelief.
"Watcher only knows why," replied Byrhtnoth before pursing his lips. "There is nothing we can do. I will mind your children while you say goodbye." The grandfather brought the newborn downstairs before coming back again to collect Bercthun and save the little boy from the horrific scene that was about to ensue.
Osuald stood frozen, his limbs unable to move as they gathered stiffly from shock. It was only after Byrhtnoth closed the door to the timber home that Osuald could finally look Lana in the eyes and make his way to her bedside to see her off.
CW: death, grieving.
The bed looked like a murder scene, most of it had been soaked in her vermillion blood, seeping down through the hay mattress beneath her and creating a dull dripping sound on the floorboards under the bed. Lana's skin began to grow pale from her loss and all of her remaining energy went into crying from the pain and from the knowledge that she was to pass soon. Her crying only stopped once she felt too weak to do so and her eyes fluttered trying to stay awake.
Osuald held tightly onto her cold hand, the fingertips slowly turning into a harsh blue and purple. He tried his best to stay strong in his wife's dying moments, choking back any tears and attempting to be the rock Lana needed in her last moments. But it was difficult, tears continued to well up in his eyes and he tried to sniffle them back before they fell down his cheeks. The blood had made its way to his side of the bed and he felt his pant leg grow wet but it did not matter to him, he just prayed to The Watcher to grant them a miracle and keep his wife alive.
"Osuald," Lana spoke slowly and weakly and Osuald leaned in closer as he listened. "It's alright."
"No, no it is not," croaked back Osuald, biting away the tears from pouring out.
"Shhh, listen closely," said Lana as she shook her head. "It's alright because... I have made peace with the end of my life. I am accepting my mortality, I am accepting the loving embrace of The Watcher." She blinked in slow motion and her eyes looked like they were losing any blue colour they once had.
"What if I don't want to accept your death, Lana?" responded Osuald, his voice shaking as he began to stroke her black hair from her face. "You're not meant to die yet, we were just beginning our lives together!"
"But it has to end here... I did not... decide this." It grew more difficult for her to speak so Osuald shook his head and spoke over her.
"Rest, my love, you don't have much energy left. Can I... can I hold you?"
"Please... hold me... as I... go."
Osuald moved with careful precision and folded Lana's limp body into his arms as he leaned in bed. He pressed her soft cheek against his chest and felt the icy coldness of death against him. She groaned as she got relatively comfortable in his arms and lifted a hand to try squeeze him one last time.
"I love you, Oz. I always have... I always will."
"I love you too, Lana. You will always have my heart, eternally," the tears were unbeatable, they had finally pierced through his eyelids and tapped against his love's scalp as they fell. His grip around her tightened as he battled with the reality of losing his soulmate, his one and only true love, his meaning of life, and he began to quietly sob,
"This cannot be, this cannot be, this cannot be," he repeated to himself, Lana gasping for air in his embrace. And soon she stopped breathing, her heart giving up, and he felt her weight harder than ever. Her grip loosened from his arm and her hand flopped down dramatically.
He opened his eyes and sat as still as possible. His heartbeat was pounding in his ears as he looked around himself. The blood continued to pool across the linens, the last drops of life leaving Lana's body, and he looked down to see that her hair did not stir from her breath. Lana was gone.
What soon followed was a guttural screech of suffering that erupted from Osuald's throat. Life was never fair but he could never imagine that he would be holding his wife close and feeling her die before his very eyes, so brutally, so bloody. He coughed out more sobs as he buried his face in his wife's hair, her natural smell still lingering. He drooled and slobbered as he felt his heart shatter into thousands of pieces and he felt like he sat there for years in his eternal grief.
In the farmhouse next door Byrhtnoth rocked the newborn to sleep while Bercthun fiddled with some hay sticking out of the bed in his bedroom. His son's howling cry from the other house signified that Lana had passed and the old man flinched when he heard it before pressing the baby that caused all of this mess close against his cheek. He closed his eyes and felt large droplets bolt down his cheeks and he silently cried while facing away from Bercthun.
Osuald sat there all night with his dead love, holding her and weeping. He kept asking himself why it all happened and then he began cursing out The Watcher for causing all of this to occur. He soon felt regretful for everything he whispered to The Watcher for Lana was a seriously devoted girl and he feared he stopped her chance of reaching their god's embrace.
He then rocked back and forth and asked The Watcher for forgiveness and to spare Lana's soul until he had no more words to say. His throat felt raw from the tears he shed and the words he hissed to himself and finally calmed himself, still clutching onto his wife's body. At last he opened his eyes and glanced out the window to see that dawn had broken.
It was a gloomy day, the sky was white and grey from the overcast, and he peered out across the river where the church was situated. Within the next week Lana was to be buried near his mother and fallen siblings in the graveyard across the way. None of that felt real to him even with physical proof laying before him. His grip finally weakened, his muscles cramping from how stiff he was for Watcher only knows how many hours, and he let her go.
Osuald let Lana fall gently back onto the pillow she first lay on and rose up from the blood soaked bed. He took several steps back and looked at the scene once more, the once cream bed now dripping in red. He wondered how he will ever get the stains to wash out from the furniture and floorboards but decided he will figure it all out when he got some sleep. He made his way down the ladder and into the farmhouse.
Byrhtnoth stood near the fireplace as he fixed something up to eat, stirring the large pot above the fire with a wooden spoon. Bercthun was sleeping in his bed under the bedsheet while the newborn was swaddled and lay lying on a pillow on the dining table, close to the grandfather. He felt his son's presence and turned to see him standing lost in the doorway. Osuald's clothes were randomly soaked in splotches of blood yet he didn't seem to notice or realise. His nose and eyes were flushed and swollen from hours of crying and he continued to sniffle back his grief as his father looked at him.
"She has passed, hasn't she?" was all that Byrhtnoth could ask his son. Osuald nodded back in response. He extended his arms out to his son and they met in a grim embrace and Osuald couldn't help but begin to cry again.
There was something about the comforting touch of his father's hug that made Osuald crumble once more, the pain felt new again and the scene of Lana's bloodied body appeared in his mind. He groaned in emotional pain and scrunched his fingers up to hold tightly onto his father's sweater. Byrhtnoth felt like he was comforting a little boy all over again and the men stood in sorrowful silence as the pain finally settled in.
Lana Chapman, once a Bacon, had died from an internal hemorrhage after delivering her second son at seventeen years old. May The Watcher rest her soul.
CW over.
The days that followed after Lana's passing blended together in Osuald's mind. Once he had no more tears to cry in the embrace of his father Byrhtnoth led him up to his bedroom and tucked him in to sleep for at least a few hours. Osuald didn't realise how exhausted he was from the entire ordeal until his body was enveloped in the warm softness of his blanket and he passed out immediately.
When he awoke that evening he was convinced the entire event was just a terrible nightmare and he sharply looked over to the other side of his bed. Only once he came downstairs and saw his father handling his newborn son did the dreaded feeling return and the grieving started anew. This became a common occurence, the immediate thought that it was all a conjured up situation in his slumbering mind before being brought back to reality.
CW: descriptions of a dead body, funeral, grieving.
They couldn't wait for long to clean Lana's body before alerting the local church of her passing and planning her burial; the mattress that she lay on was beginning to dry from the blood but the remaining dampness would surely begin to make her body decompose sooner than they planned.
They approached it as delicately as possible, taking things one step at a time. Byrhtnoth took the lead and directed his son to continue fetching clean water while also giving him moments to grieve in the ways he felt most comfortable. The men lifted Lana's lifeless body and lay her down onto the floorboards, beginning the cleaning by stripping her of her soiled clothes.
It felt strange for the two men to see such a youthful girl so bare on the ground, especially for Osuald who believed he would be the only one to ever see his love naked in a passionate affair, but they were only animals after all. When you were dead you were also lifeless and a lifeless body was merely a vessel, one which a soul used to inhabit. She looked so much like the Lana Osuald fell in love with years back yet she also looked like a stranger from how stiff and pale she now was.
Osuald soaked linen scraps in the soothing water that was warmed over the nearby fire and gently glid the fibres over the girl's body. The red stains revealed streaks of white beneath them and Osuald cleaned her upper half while Byrhtnoth cleaned her lower. The room was silent, only the sounds of water being manipulated in the reddened buckets and Bercthun quietly playing with the dollhouse in the bedroom over.
Lana's face stayed clean through the entire ordeal, only salty streaks remained from her tears that were barely visible to the naked eye. Osuald stopped his movements to look at her, gazing upon her with a furrowed brow and sorrowful eyes. He took a clean hand and cupped her cheek. It was even colder than the last time he touched her. Many thoughts and worries swirled in his mind as he looked at her peaceful face but all he could make out of it was I am so sorry it had to happen this way.
Once she was ready Osuald took the honour of clothing her once more. He donned the nicest undergarment and cleanest dress of hers onto her body, tricky to do with the stiffness of her limbs, but soon she was beautiful again. Byrhtnoth promised to dispose of the mattress and do his best to clean the wood surrounding the scene but that was for another time. He made his exit to give Osuald some space as it was the last time he would see his love.
He sat with her for a few hours, going from crying from deep inside of his chest to whispering to her how much he loved her. He brushed her hair and laid it out like she loved to wear it and recited several excerpts from the scripture of The Watcher, the ones he learned from her. She did not stir, she lay as he placed her, and with her stillness he finally came to realise that it was time to say goodbye.
The next day a wagon arrived to take her body away and prepare her for a funeral. The Chapman men did the honours of placing her in the shabby wooden coffin that would transport her to the graveyard and prepared for the finale. It was an intimate affair, they hadn't even invited her parents to visit the farewell of their daughter to which they would regret later on, and watched them lower her six feet under. It was finally time to move on.
CW over.
The months that followed went by in a blur for Osuald. He busied himself with the labours and responsibilities of planting their seeds for the bountiful crops to come and he worked hard in an attempt to quieten his mind. He squatted over the mounds and plants, whether it was rain or sunshine, and spent little time with his children or father, often finding himself in solitude. When he felt most alone he would erupt into tears and felt like he would never move past this burden of sorrow.
Byrhtnoth stepped up as an interim father for Bercthun and the newborn, who had not been given a name yet, and they were growing up relatively well. Bercthun tended to ask his grandfather "mama?" to which he had to shake his head and just respond "no mama... mama is gone." He knew he would be able to explain it better once he was older and simpler explanations were best in these times.
The newborn, on the other hand, became a curious case for feeding. When he was only several weeks old Byrhtnoth travelled to Lavina, who was still breastfeeding Gisla, and asked if she could step in to be an occasional wetnurse. The initial favour confused her and she asked where Lana was before being told of the deadly news. She almost collapsed in shock, falling back to sit down on a stool in her kitchen, before quickly agreeing to feed the little boy.
Lavina grew a new structure in her routine and often came to visit her childhood home only to feed Osuald's newborn and keep him healthy and growing. There would be times when Byrhtnoth would bring Bercthun and the baby boy on a trip to the Smith home but most often Lavina came by herself. She tried her best not to step on Osuald's toes but he didn't make much effort in conversing with her anyway, almost fully ignoring her when her presence was inside the home. When Lavina was not available as a wetnurse Byrhtnoth fed the baby cows milk before eventually being able to move onto solids when he was old enough.
One Sunday afternoon Osuald finally made his way downstairs. He had not been in the mood to entertain a game of dominoes since Lana's passing; it was only a grim reminder of what happened that rotten day. So each Sunday he would sleep in and lay in bed staring up at the thatched roof above him, hoping that the dull pain of heartbreak would soon subside or magically just disappear. Once dressed and downstairs he was met with Byrhtnoth, Catherine and Lavina standing in the kitchen with a surprise on the table.
A cake with multiple beeswax candles stood in wait, the little flames flickering from the sporadic air current shifting. The friends and family stood with soft smiles on their faces and waited for Osuald to say the first word. His face looked perplexed and he seemed uncomfortable so his father finally spoke up,
"It is time to celebrate your birthday, son," he began as he gently explained. "It was meant to be celebrated weeks ago but I did not want to interrupt your grieving. I felt it would be best to give you some time before doing something like this."
"Lavina and I baked this together," added Catherine as she placed a hand on the young girl's shoulder. "We thought you would like it." He did not like it, he loved it as it was one of his favourite treats in this land, but a part of him felt like he didn't deserve it. He stood there and battled the feeling to smile but was quickly interrupted.
"Come now, blow it out and make a wish." Byrhtnoth gestured to the cake and Osuald let his legs take him closer to the prize. He stood before it, the moist sponge glistening under the candle flames, and finally his lips curled into a smile. He felt overwhelmed to choose one wish, he knew some of the ones that came to his mind were far too childish.
Bring Lana back to life, let me wake up from this nightmare, let me travel back in time, all thoughts that crossed his mind. He eventually settled on a wish that felt realistic: let my heart begin to heal from this loss.
And so he blew out the flames and extinguished them with one breath. Cheers ensued behind him and he finally felt the first ounce of satisfaction he had felt in a long time. He turned to find them all standing with individually wrapped gifts and accepted them with thanks. His father gifted him a new shirt, Lavina granted him new winter clothes and Catherine handed him some new shoes she ordered from the local cobbler.
He accepted them all and extended a heartfelt thank you to them all. They all shared some cake and talked at the table, the conversations a little dry and sporadic than usual. Lavina was just delighted to hear her brother acknowledge her and hear his charming voice and believed in her heart that he would become stronger from everything he endured.
Before she left their home she promised to feed his newborn and ask Osuald about a name while she fed the baby boy. The brother and sister stood in the timber house alone, Byrtnoth and Catherine cleaning up after their short festivity in the main home, and Osuald spoke up as he sat on the newly made mattress.
"Thank you sis, for stepping up and caring for my son," he spoke bluntly with little emotion showing through his voice after Lana's passing. Regardless of his tone Lavina knew he spoke with truth and honesty. He continued,
"I know I haven't been a great father to my boys this year and I try not to let it get to me, I have enough to deal with in my mind, but thank you. Honestly."
"It has been my pleasure," answered Lavina, shifting the baby boy in her arms as he finished eating. She placed him on her shoulder and attempted to burp him. "I don't want to imagine what would have become of your son if I wasn't around. Thanks to Gisla, and another one on the way, I have plenty of milk to go around!"
Osuald breathed out a short laugh and Lavina took pride in amusing her brother. She wondered when the last time was that he laughed but shifted her mind in asking the question has been burning in her thoughts,
"Say... have you decided on a name for your son yet?" Osuald looked surprised by her question and stood up from the bed.
"Have... have we not chosen one for him yet?" Lavina shook her head in disbelief, how did her brother not know that his youngest was nameless? He coughed awkwardly and felt his cheeks burn from embarrassment and soon the pair heard the baby boy belch. Lavina swiveled him back into a horizontal position in her arms and offered for Osuald to hold him next. He accepted and stared down at his son.
It was actually the first time he had held his youngest since his birth. The guilt and shame of being an absent father rose in his core but he refused to let it take him over. His son cooed and wriggled in a feisty way but seemed content and he finally decided on a name for him.
"Wuffa..." he uttered quietly, almost waiting for a response from the baby. He looked up to his sister who stood straight with her arms behind her back as she observed.
"Wuffa, what do you think of that name? I think I heard Lana read it once in the scripture."
"I think it's a handsome name... and it sounds like it would mean something to not only you but to Lana also." She chose her words carefully and gave them meaning. Osuald looked back down at his son and said his name a couple more times. Wuffa, it seemed to suit him.
As Praaven's trees shed their leaves it was time to bring in the harvest. Byrhtnoth still looked over his grandchildren the best he could while Osuald dedicated all of his efforts into producing a good yield on their farm. With less mouths to feed he could afford not to fish these past few seasons but a part of him missed it dearly.
He spent his evenings playing and schooling his boys inside the wooden home. He had temporarily moved into the next house over while the boys were still toddlers to secure their safety during the night and made peace with Lana's resting place. He couldn't sleep the first night he lay in that bed, the air still felt cold and unnatural for him but he soon realised things were much different than what they used to be. The bedding had changed, the children were growing up and he was different too.
This wouldn't stop him from bursting into tears some mornings and nights however but he learned that every time he let himself cry in solitude was the closer he got to the end of his grieving period. His other behaviours returned to normal by the end of the year: he was able to eat full meals, he bathed after a long day's work and let himself be happy. It was a different happiness without Lana but it was happiness nonetheless.
The first snowfall began to settle across the fields and the citizens of Praaven began to wear their winter clothes. It was quite a beautiful sight and Osuald made sure to indulge in the moments where he could see the frost of his breath in the air and the feeling of the snowflakes melting against his warm face. He allowed himself to take solace in the little things.
And then it hit him: he never got around to reporting Lana's death to her parents. His stomach swirled with sudden anxiety and he knew he had to speak to his father about it. Byrhtnoth looked out the window before answering his son, weighing several things on his mind, and encouraged him to travel to their home to tell them the overdue news. He did just that and saddled up Gloria as fast as possible and whooshed through the icy air and towards the city walls.
He stopped his horse right outside the Bacon home and came to notice their doors locked and shut. It was the weekend after all, perhaps they were somewhere in town? He trotted slowly down the main streets of the city centre and looked around if he noticed any familiar faces. Eventually he spotted Alanna's dark hair and tanned skin inside one of the shops and stationed Gloria to wait for him while he handled this important business.
The building was revealed to Osuald to be a tailorshop and many folk were standing browsing various fabrics and speaking to the shop keep where they ordered their tailored fits. The man took a deep breath and approached the Bacons, unable to conceal his worried expression.
Alanna extended a hand to greet him and Grady was next to shake Osuald's hand. They exchanged some simple small talk before Osuald asked if he could speak to them privately. They slinked back to the emptiest section of the business and Osuald began to pour his heart out,
"I have come to apologise for not reporting something to you sooner, I... well, she..." The words didn't seem to fall into place, his heart raced and he felt inadequate in that moment as the parents looked at him expectedly. He finally steadied his breathing and revealed the truth.
"Lana has been welcomed into The Watcher's embrace... several months ago, in April. I am so incredibly sorry for not coming to you about this sooner, I have just been so distraught by her passing and I haven't been the same without her and I just-" his voice grew strained and louder, tears building up in his eyes again. Just weeks ago he wouldn't even be able to utter such harsh realities without uncontrollably sobbing but now it was easier to handle yet the tears still accompanied it all.
Alanna pulled the young man into a hug and pat on his back. "It is alright, Osuald, you don't need to say any more." Osuald did his best to compose himself as quickly as he could and wiped the salty droplets from his eyes as he apologised. He analysed Lana's parent's expressions and they seemed somewhat at peace with this knowledge, almost unnaturally for being told this for the first time.
"Did... did you find this out through my father?" The pieces began to fit, he prayed that Alanna and Grady weren't just some emotionless psychopaths that don't shed a tear for their daughter after hearing such news, and it seemed he was right. The married couple glanced at each other before quietly nodding.
"We crossed paths during the summer in the city and asked why we haven't heard from Lana in a while... that is when he revealed the truth. We have visited her grave and prayed for her soul, I have to thank you for putting her to rest for us." Alanna took Osuald's hands in his and looked at him with compassion as she spoke. He reminded her it was no problem and it was his responsibility and Grady spoke up,
"Lana was incredibly lucky to have you as her husband, no matter how short lived your time together was. I hope The Watcher can give you the strength and guidance to raise your mutual children even in her absence."
"I promise to you, with all of my heart, I will make it my life's goal to have a part of Lana live on through her children. Please, visit anytime you like. You will forever be a part of our family."
"We appreciate that greatly, Osuald. We will never forget it."
They shared a few more talking points together before Grady was alerted that their tailoring order was ready and the pair was preparing to head on home. Osuald wondered what he would do next, should he stay in town and run some errands or travel on home? There weren't many errands for him to complete in the city but he wasn't quite ready to head on him hence he saddled back up on Gloria and travelled to the northern gates of Praaven.
As he galloped out of the city, across the bridge and into a village he found himself outside the Mahlsberg tavern. It had been years since he indulged in an alcoholic beverage and he felt like he deserved one after the news he had to deliver, even if the news wasn't so new anymore. He dismounted, pat Gloria with praise and kept her safe near the stables to the inn around the back of the building.
He swung the large wooden doors open and was met with a gust of warm air, feeling his muscles relax after shivering from the cold outside. He heard a buzzing of voices from inside and was reminded it was the weekend, many men would be spending their evening socialising and drinking with neighbours and colleagues alike. He made his way into the main hall and was met with a familiarly unfamiliar sight.
A lady stood by the bar, casually taking a sip from her wooden mug, and paying no mind to the patrons standing next to her. Her fiery ginger hair was just as long and vibrant as it was when Osuald knew her back in their youth and their eyes finally locked. There she stood, Marissa, a girl that Osuald so briefly knew and so quickly ended a talking relationship with.
They each stood there, frozen in indecision. Should they be kind to one another? Spiteful? Did their past matter at all to them? Their stare lasted only seconds before Marissa decided to wave Osuald over to her and he happily walked to stand by her side.
"Hello, stranger," she spoke as she looked down into her cup, lightly leaning against the high table in front of her. Osuald hesitated to decide on a tone to adopt during their first meeting after almost ten years and in his indecision Marissa looked up at him, her honey brown eyes soft and non-combatant. He sighed and leaned one arm against the edge of the table.
"Hello, Marissa. I didn't expect to find you here tonight. I was just passing through and wanted a drink." Just as he said that the innkeep approached him and asked for his order to which Osuald requested a hot cider. Their conversation continued while he waited on his drink and he fiddled with his coin purse to pay the man.
"Funny, I never expected to find you here either. I won't reveal my reasons for visiting this place tonight, however." Marissa looked back down at her drink and swirled the remaining contents around in a sluggish motion. Osuald took notice of her dwindling supply and offered her another one to which she refused.
"How have you been keeping?" she finally spoke up after a brief awkward pause. Osuald scoffed,
"I feel like I should ask you that first, I don't particularly have any good news to deliver and I don't want to start our conversation on a grim note."
"I don't exactly have positive news to tell you either," shrugged Marissa. "Try me." She turned her body to face Osuald now who paid the innkeeper for his drink and took his first sip. They hadn't heard what each of them wanted to tell another just yet but there was already a comforting connection that they both were in a moment of suffering.
"Well... how do I put this politely," pondered Osuald as he gripped onto his tankard before taking a deep, shaky breath. "I married a girl called Lana just three years ago. We have two little boys at home and Lana died in labour this year while she delivered our second son... How has your life been faring?"
Marissa's eyebrows shot up in a flash, they rose so high they almost touched her hairline. She looked into his eyes as if she was trying to detect a lie for a few seconds before breathing out and anxiously chuckling.
"Osuald, I think I don't even need to try. You win the prize for the worst news between the two of us!" she jested and Osuald pursed his lips into a slightly amused smile before taking another swig of the warm cider. Marissa's face dropped finally and she spoke with a sincere tone,
"But I'm very sorry to hear that, Osuald... nobody should have to go through a tough loss like that at our age." He had forgotten, Marissa was almost the same age as Lana was. She was to turn eighteen soon also, both of them to be recognised as adults by the end of the year.
"I appreciate your condolences," he finally spoke in a low tone. "But tell me, what's been happening with you?" Marissa cleared her throat, visibly ashamed of what she was about to reveal.
"I'm sure you remember me marrying Arron, right?" Osuald nodded with a blank expression, Marissa continued. "I had his child that same year, we named him Kristoffer and he's almost five now. Not long after we began living together he revealed himself to be a very abusive man. And not just to me, but to our son as well. So, after years of tolerating his behaviour, and desperately begging the church to separate us to no avail, I ran away."
"Hmm... I guess that's not as tragic as my story, you're right about that, I win for having the worst news!" amused Osuald, giving a cheeky smile to Marissa who refused to make eye contact. "But where did you run away to? Are you safe?"
"I am safe," confirmed the girl, finally looking into her friend's eyes, "but I don't feel right giving you my location. I don't trust many people these days."
"But you trusted me enough to tell me your darkest story, right?" Osuald gestured with his hand, moving it back and forth between them two and Marissa shifted on her feet.
"Huh, I guess you're right about that, how foolish of me!" The pair laughed and each took a sip of their alcohol, Marissa finishing hers. She defeatedly placed her cup down on the wooden table and delicately wiped the corners of her pretty mouth, Osuald watching her every move. She ironed out her skirt and bowed to Osuald,
"I think it is time for me to bid you farewell," she began and showed a twinkle of regret in her eyes for uttering those words. Osuald stood up straight once he heard that and also presented to be unhappy by her words.
"But we were just beginning... to have a conversation." The way he phrased it made him experience a shooting pain in the center of his chest for he had said similar words to Lana before she died. He swallowed his emerging grief and tried his best not to show it outwardly and Marissa sighed.
"Maybe we'll see each other again, maybe we won't, but I must go now." She began to move around Osuald but he side stepped her and stood like an impenetrable force before her. She looked up at him again, this time with a mildly fearful look, her past visibly emerging in her expression.
"Will you be okay for the winter?" Osuald's caring nature never failed to show through every conversation he had, he just wanted to know that the person he once cared for, and one that shared the burden of her own personal grief, was safe. Marissa placed a hand on her chest in flattery,
"I promise to be, but why do you ask?"
"Let me bring you some produce to last you the winter. Please? If you need anything else other than food let me know too..." His voice trailed off as he fought his morals as to say what he wanted to say. He spoke up again as Marissa awaited his next move.
"I-I care for you." No matter the time apart and no matter the grief he had to go through this year he still had a soft spot for the redheaded girl he once knew. Perhaps she was a shell of who she once was but the intrigue he once had for her was still strong in his mind. Osuald felt like his caring suggestion would give him a chance to see her again.
"Alright," Marissa finally conceded, "I'll accept your charity. Kristoffer and I are taking solace in the old guardhouse that resides on the top of the northern Praaven mountains. It's near that ruined manor near the lake."
"I've ridden past there several times before, when I would go fishing there... I'm surprised I haven't spotted you around that area before." He reminisced as he tried to flicker to any memory of a bright beacon of orange in those areas but nothing came to mind.
"I know," revealed Marissa. "I've seen you gallop down on your horse through my window before." They stood there, barely a metre away from each other, and stood in disbelief. Was this exchange really happening? Was this a rekindling of an old flame the both of them thought died out many years ago? What was Osuald thinking, he hadn't buried his wife even a year ago, things still were far too fresh to let any such feeling stir in his body.
He recoiled and looked away broodingly before stepping aside to let Marissa make her exit. "I will see you sometime this winter, I promise you. I will bring you some of the best vegetables we grew this year."
"I'll be looking forward to it," replied Marissa in a semi-sultry tone. She stepped forward and continued walking towards the stable exit. "Goodbye, Osuald. It was good to see you again."
"And to you too." There she was and off she went. Once the wooden door shut behind her he breathed out the gulp of air he was holding in and stumbled back to lean his lower back against the counter behind him. He felt like a monster, a body of immature masculinity that couldn't help but indulge in a gorgeous girl. And Marissa was a very gorgeous girl at that.
He brought both hands to his face and attempted to wipe the lust and shame off of himself, biting his lip as he thought of Lana. Bloodied Lana, bloody in his arms. His breath began to quicken and he felt like he could collapse from anxiety before hearing his name be called out by a semi-familiar voice. He composed himself and looked to his right where he saw a vision of August Dodson, the husband of his older sister Linyeve.
August bore a concerned expression and asked the young brother-by-law if he was alright to which Osuald assured him he was okay. He shared that he showed up at the perfect time and helped him steady his nerves. Osuald decided to stay for one more drink with August and catch up on any news he may have missed out during his year of grieving.
The Dodsons had heard of Osuald's loss and August extended his condolences to him once more. He was somewhat tired of hearing that from people but he knew they all meant it with all of their heart. Osuald had no more news to report from this year apart from finally picking a name for his newborn while August had some very positive news to exchange.
He alerted Osuald that Linyeve was pregnant once more! She was several months into her pregnancy and revealed that the news actually came as quite a shock. Speaking man to man he shared that bedding his wife was a rare occurrence with how much grief they had gone through losing their children but even with this rarity Linyeve was expecting. Osuald asked to extend his congratulations to his sister and soon the men continued to talk about all sorts of topics, going between deep conversations and sharing phallic anecdotes.
He arrived home late that night, the stars twinkling in the night sky above him. Bercthun had been asleep in his cot when he made his way up the ladder and Osuald made sure to tuck him in before receding to his own bed for the night. The conversations he had today made a lot of emotions build up once again and as he stood by the bed and the fire a sob surprised him.
He stood and hunched from the aching grief once more and whispered an apology to The Watcher and to his deceased wife. How could he possibly look at women like that not even a year after Lana's passing? Was it his fault? Was he a despicable man only available to have a romp in the sack? Or was it merely an instinctual urge of a young male? He punished himself for these thoughts regardless of what was right or wrong and he didn't feel ready to tell his father about it all the next morning.
Before the year ended Osuald found a day when the snow wasn't falling from the sky in large quantities. As it dusted atop the existing ice he excused his absence for the early part of the day and galloped down to the Lughaven church for a special visit. He hadn't come to pay his respects to his wife since her funeral and he felt it was time to do so.
He trudged through the ankle-deep snow and came to stand at the headstone that was barely visible through the white blanket beneath him. He kneeled down, wetting his knees on the snowflakes below, and wiped away the flakes to reveal Lana's name. She was still here, unmoved, unalive.
Osuald tried to rise back to his height but the grief pulled him back down. He scrunched his body as if the air was hit out of his lungs and he sobbed. He sobbed and sobbed and asked for Lana's forgiveness. Forgiveness for not saving her from her demise and forgiveness for what had happened just days earlier. There was no response from her, not even a whistling breeze to answer his pleas and Osuald feared the worst.
Just as he thought he was condemned by The Watcher he spotted a butterfly flutter above Lana's grave but it did not rest. It flew sporadically and found its way towards the other graves, settling on a large monolith. Osuald followed it closely and watched it with bated breath, gasping at where it decided to land. It flexed its fragile wings, moving its spindly legs across Olyff's engraved name.
Perhaps Lana wasn't ready to speak to him yet, it may be too early for her soul to be powerful enough to do so. But his mother, who had passed almost fifteen years ago, sent him a message and one that represented peace and change. Osuald took note of this sign and calmed himself with a deep breath. Change was to come soon and the spirits have kindly given him this moment to realise and prepare for what's to come.
Once he dried his eyes he returned home on horseback with Gloria and decided to give her a nice brush before returning her to the indoor stable. She nickered and nodded in delight as he itched just the right spots and relished in pleasing his mighty steed. He suddenly heard someone crunching through the snow behind him and turned to see Lavina walking with her daughter Gisla.
They exchanged greetings and Osuald complimented Gisla at how quickly she had grown. She was a shy girl but she smiled at his comments before burrowing her darling little face in her mother's hair. Lavina let it be known she was here to continue to feed Wuffa while she still hadn't gone into labour and Osuald invited the two ladies inside. Lavina looked like she could pop at any moment, her apron tight around the top of her belly, but she looked healthy and happy.
The siblings found Byrhtnoth upstairs in the timber home having a chat with Bercthun. The little boy had turned two years old just several months ago and was confidently trying to converse with his grandfather but still lacked great comprehension. Byrhtnoth was delighted to see his pregnant daughter once again and guided her to Wuffa, setting Bercthun down to play with Gisla by the dollhouse.
Byrhtnoth lightly scolded his youngest daughter for venturing out in the deep cold to visit them but after being reminded of Wuffa's needs he let the topic go. He asked how she was doing with her second pregnancy and tried his best not to show his worries for her going into labour after what he saw happen to Lana. She assured the men that she is in safe hands and told them that Catherine promised to aid in her labour.
The day grew to evening faster than ever as they reached the end of the year and Lavina bid them farewell. They saw her off, watching her waddle down the snowed in path down to the bridge back to Lughaven, and went back inside to warm up. The men stood at the downstairs fireplace and agreed at how happy they were for Lavina. Osuald peered over his shoulder, glancing back at the dominoes table behind them, yet stayed silent about a passing thought.
"You want to try a game?" asked his father. Osuald gulped and thought about if he was ready for it. He lightly nodded and Byhrtnoth rubbed his calloused hands together before turning around to set up the table. Osuald steadied his lightly panicked breathing, brief fearful thoughts of what had happened earlier this year replaying in his mind, and soon he was ready to turn around and face the table too.
They sat down quietly and clicked the game pieces onto the table, keeping the conversations short. Once the sun had fully set the game was over and Osuald had survived, nothing bad had come of it and he felt one step closer to healing. Byrhtnoth praised his son, patting him on the back while remaining seated, and assured him things will get easier from here on out.
The Sunday dominoes returned to the Chapman home and winter was spent comfortably. Only a week after Lavina came to visit Bobby happily reported to the Chapman men that she delivered a healthy baby boy and they named him Alvredus. He assured them that Lavina was doing well and she was awaiting Byrhtnoth's visit for him to meet another grandchild.
"Once the snow ceases to fall I will hurry over to see the mother and the babe," promised Byrhtnoth and Bobby held him to his word.
