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Description
Despite Una’s gentle, motherly comfort, you continued to cry and cry. She carefully braided your (h/c) locks into a braid, humming a lullaby in some attempt to calm you down. “Dear (y/n),” she said softly after you had been crying for a good while. Your face looked like three long rainy days, with red eyes and red cheeks. Her old wrinkled hand cupped your cheek. “It’ll be alright...Don’t listen to their stories…”
“S-stop trying to comfort me, una...” you said irritably. “I’m just going to throw myself into the sea when they sail back anyhow..”
“No, child, don’t do such a thing.” She frowned, a chiding bite in her voice. “I was in your shoes once, I was brought here from the lands of ice snow, I am one of them.” You looked at her in disbelief. “I lived in a place where the winters were long and harsh…but in the spring everything was such a shade of green, you wouldn’t believe your own eyes if you saw it. I was but sixteen when the men from this land came. They raided us and took me and four other girls as prisoner. The other three died from various things, but I lived and married happily here.” She smiled at you softly. “Being taken is a curse, I won’t deny it, but sometimes it can be a blessing. Vikings treat their woman well, better than they do here.” You sat there speechless, looking at her with glassy eyes. Was what she said true? Or was she just trying to make you stop crying? You didn’t know, but at this point decided that crying wasn’t going to help. “My…you remind me so much of myself sometimes.” Una began to look you up and down with her nearly blind, but wise eyes. “You will be just fine when they come in the spring. I assure you, you’ll be just fine.” She heaved herself from her place, leaning on her crooked wooden cane as she looked at you. “just fine.”
The few weeks came and went. By now days have gotten longer and warmer. Flowers began to pop up here and there and the trees budded and grew new leaves. The village had scraped up a little food and some finely crafted gifts as offering but they still wanted to throw you in as well for good luck. Una looked through the different fabrics lined on a small table. She pointed at a pure, creamy white. A ginger haired woman, about forty came to you with the fabric and some kind of tape to measure you. They’d be here very soon as you were told. Over the weeks you spent cooped up in this little hut, you had calmed down and accepted your fate. You trusted Una and you knew that she had a plan.
It took a little while, but in a few hours, you had a new dress. A long sleeved, form fitting white and (f/c) trimmed gown. It was simple, but very lovely on you. By now Una had you immersed in her stories of the foreign land which she hailed. “Remember, (y/n), be brave.” The Druid healer weaved small sprigs of white and blue flowers into your hair. “You are courageous, and lovely in all ways. I promise no harm will come to you. After all, I speak they’re tongue. You know the routine here, they come and resupply they’re ships and leave. As they resupply I can speak to the man in charge, then he can take it from there.”
“What will you say, Una?” you asked, the ginger woman scowled at you a bit, holding your chin so you’d stay still while she colored your lips with a pinkish red berry juice and wax mixture.
“I’ll ask him to find you a master or husband, whichever it may be, that will treat you kindly. I shall tell him that you a special girl, one of many talents and beauties.” The ginger started lining your eyes with a thin mark of kohl, to make your eyelashes look darker. “You must trust them, show them respect. Then you shall be treated as one of they’re own.” There was a hard demanding knock on the door. Una got up and answered it, Bran stood at the door, fiddling his fingers.
“Please tell me she’s ready!” he said in a panicked rush of words. “They’re on the horizon!” Una looked back at you with a smile.
“Yes, (y/n) is ready.” After the ginger was done making up your features, you stood, looking at yourself. You looked nice, but so much different. In all that time, you became lovely. You felt lovely, too. There was an over whelming calmness inside, and deep down you knew you’d be okay.

Description
Despite Una’s gentle, motherly comfort, you continued to cry and cry. She carefully braided your (h/c) locks into a braid, humming a lullaby in some attempt to calm you down. “Dear (y/n),” she said softly after you had been crying for a good while. Your face looked like three long rainy days, with red eyes and red cheeks. Her old wrinkled hand cupped your cheek. “It’ll be alright...Don’t listen to their stories…”
“S-stop trying to comfort me, una...” you said irritably. “I’m just going to throw myself into the sea when they sail back anyhow..”
“No, child, don’t do such a thing.” She frowned, a chiding bite in her voice. “I was in your shoes once, I was brought here from the lands of ice snow, I am one of them.” You looked at her in disbelief. “I lived in a place where the winters were long and harsh…but in the spring everything was such a shade of green, you wouldn’t believe your own eyes if you saw it. I was but sixteen when the men from this land came. They raided us and took me and four other girls as prisoner. The other three died from various things, but I lived and married happily here.” She smiled at you softly. “Being taken is a curse, I won’t deny it, but sometimes it can be a blessing. Vikings treat their woman well, better than they do here.” You sat there speechless, looking at her with glassy eyes. Was what she said true? Or was she just trying to make you stop crying? You didn’t know, but at this point decided that crying wasn’t going to help. “My…you remind me so much of myself sometimes.” Una began to look you up and down with her nearly blind, but wise eyes. “You will be just fine when they come in the spring. I assure you, you’ll be just fine.” She heaved herself from her place, leaning on her crooked wooden cane as she looked at you. “just fine.”
The few weeks came and went. By now days have gotten longer and warmer. Flowers began to pop up here and there and the trees budded and grew new leaves. The village had scraped up a little food and some finely crafted gifts as offering but they still wanted to throw you in as well for good luck. Una looked through the different fabrics lined on a small table. She pointed at a pure, creamy white. A ginger haired woman, about forty came to you with the fabric and some kind of tape to measure you. They’d be here very soon as you were told. Over the weeks you spent cooped up in this little hut, you had calmed down and accepted your fate. You trusted Una and you knew that she had a plan.
It took a little while, but in a few hours, you had a new dress. A long sleeved, form fitting white and (f/c) trimmed gown. It was simple, but very lovely on you. By now Una had you immersed in her stories of the foreign land which she hailed. “Remember, (y/n), be brave.” The Druid healer weaved small sprigs of white and blue flowers into your hair. “You are courageous, and lovely in all ways. I promise no harm will come to you. After all, I speak they’re tongue. You know the routine here, they come and resupply they’re ships and leave. As they resupply I can speak to the man in charge, then he can take it from there.”
“What will you say, Una?” you asked, the ginger woman scowled at you a bit, holding your chin so you’d stay still while she colored your lips with a pinkish red berry juice and wax mixture.
“I’ll ask him to find you a master or husband, whichever it may be, that will treat you kindly. I shall tell him that you a special girl, one of many talents and beauties.” The ginger started lining your eyes with a thin mark of kohl, to make your eyelashes look darker. “You must trust them, show them respect. Then you shall be treated as one of they’re own.” There was a hard demanding knock on the door. Una got up and answered it, Bran stood at the door, fiddling his fingers.
“Please tell me she’s ready!” he said in a panicked rush of words. “They’re on the horizon!” Una looked back at you with a smile.
“Yes, (y/n) is ready.” After the ginger was done making up your features, you stood, looking at yourself. You looked nice, but so much different. In all that time, you became lovely. You felt lovely, too. There was an over whelming calmness inside, and deep down you knew you’d be okay.