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"Goodbye is the hardest thing to say to someone who means the world to you, especially when goodbye isn't what you want."
✻ Morning mist dominates the Anglian Morasses of Vrowemeerle, the sun trying its hardest to claw through the thick fog. Birds wake up the wildlife with pretty songs, a symphony of caw's, and with the rooster's horrific solo, a miller's widow and her little girl awaken too. The little girl, of six years no less, crawls out of her hay-stuffed cot to get into her hand-me-down clothes. The clothes hardly fit the child, easily able to hold another girl in there.
"Had a good night's sleep, Sweetling?"
The elderly lady asks warmly, putting on a motherly smile as she prepares a healthy breakfast of boiled eggs, slices of buttered bread and as a little treat, bacon. The girl only musters a nod as she tiredly rubs her eye, hoisting herself up on a stool.
"Good, good. I will need all the help I can get. You remember what we're doing today, yes?"
The little girl brightens up instantly, "Feeding the chiggens!" She says excitedly, nearly jumping in her seat. The old lady chuckles, shaking her head as she sets the table.
"After you've eaten everything on your plate, dear. And don't give me that look, you need it all." The old lady commands,
"But Nana--"
"No, no buts, young lady." She huffs out.
"Had a good night's sleep, Sweetling?"
The elderly lady asks warmly, putting on a motherly smile as she prepares a healthy breakfast of boiled eggs, slices of buttered bread and as a little treat, bacon. The girl only musters a nod as she tiredly rubs her eye, hoisting herself up on a stool.
"Good, good. I will need all the help I can get. You remember what we're doing today, yes?"
The little girl brightens up instantly, "Feeding the chiggens!" She says excitedly, nearly jumping in her seat. The old lady chuckles, shaking her head as she sets the table.
"After you've eaten everything on your plate, dear. And don't give me that look, you need it all." The old lady commands,
"But Nana--"
"No, no buts, young lady." She huffs out.
The little girl barely catches a breath as she shovels in the last strip of bacon, showing her empty plate to the Old Lady.
"Look, Nana, it's ALL gone!", The little girl exclaims, attention already on the door. The Old Lady smiles and takes her plate, ruffling the little girl's hair.
"Oh alright.. Fetch the grain, love, and I'll meet you in the coop." She said with a gentle motherly tone, caressing the little girl's cheek before clearing the table. The little girl hops off her stool, skipping away to her boots, not even bothering with the laces as she drags the sack of grain from the porch to the coop. Bits and pieces of grain spill over the grass as the little girl makes the long trek to the coop a stone's throw away from the decrepit windmill that looms over the old lady's hovel. The girl fidgets with the primitive lock on the coop door, a simple piece of rope tied to a nail. After much annoyance the Old Lady finally appears to help her out, untying the knot with her frail hands. The little girl lets out an excited squeal as she hops into the coop, burying her hands into the sack and splaying out the grain to the 'chiggens'.
The girl sits peacefully on a bundle of hay, feeding the chickens out of her hand. The clucking of the hens and roosters slowly fail to cover up the sounds of terrified gasps and crying children from the village as dozens of thundering horse hooves roll up to the mill. The old lady raises a brow, carefully peeking out at the visitors from the door. Without turning her head, the old lady mutters to the little girl,
"Agatha... Stay where you are, and don't make a sound.." The old lady fearlessly wanders out to meet the intruders, beholding a menacing knight atop a white horse and the six riders he brought with.
"Sir Alfred Rolfe, Sheriff of Vlissinghelm and sworn bannerman to the Revain of Zuiderpoort.", to which the old lady scoffs,
"You must've taken the wrong turn, Sheriff. You're quite aways from Vlissinghelm, Sir."
From out behind the horses appears a man about the same age as the miller's widow, pointing her out and telling the knight,
"There she is, that's the one.." The old lady recognizes the man instantly as the village elder, frowning at the traitor.
"We've come for the girl, woman." Sir Alfred declares, "Where is she?"
The old lady's eyes widen, gasping in horror. "N-No. You... She's not here. Why-- Why? Why do you care about her?" The crone exclaims in desperation.
"Enough. Fetch the girl." The knight calls to the soldiers, who do not take long to get off their horses and to start the hunt.
Agatha freezes up at the sight of the soldiers dismounting. Strange men marching past her protector without any resistance. A large, scarred dog lumbering alongside one of the soldiers making their way to the house. She's not waking up. This isn't a bad dream at all, and she's all on her own. Hyperventilation ensues, a fully fledged panic attack sets in as she restlessly looks around in the mill for a place to hide. Young, she may be, but a sense of cunning had already started developing as she snuck behind a stack of flour bags by the grindstone. The loud noise is enough to deafen out her sulking, a fact which she takes great comfort in as she rests her head on her knees. Rocking back and forth as she hears soldiers rummage through the adjacent building. The men shout expletives to each other, growing more and more fierce in their search, plates are thrown and cupboards tipped over.
They seem occupied enough. Now's her shot. Her eyes are placed on the door left ajar, slowly sneaking out of hiding on her hands and knees. The coast should be clear until she hears heavy footsteps and the panting of a dog coming for the door. Like a fieldmouse she scurries back behind the cover of the flour bags, praying as hard as she can with the few prayers she knows. The door swings open, and the dog's chain can be heard rattling in the background of the grindstone.
"Smell something, boy?" The soldier pipes up as he is pulled away by the great bloodhound. After half a second's thinking, she sprints out of hiding, fueled by enough adrenaline for five grown men. The door is right there, she'll make it. She's almost there. Right as she's out the door a stranger's arm goes right into her chest, knocking the air out of her. She screams and wails as the soldier stows her over his shoulder, the girl kicking and flailing as the soldiers victoriously gather around their horses.
The knight grins to the old woman, who had been watching the scene anxiously, "Thank you for your cooperation, madam." He says before beckoning forth one of the soldiers, who throws a small purse of coins into the mud before they mount up once more.
Agatha screams and shouts as the column of soldiers canter away from the mill, the elderly woman trying her best to keep up with the horses.
"Nana! Help! NANA!!" She cries out whenever she finds time to catch her breath.
"D-Don't worry, love! I'll... I'll save you!" The elder tries her best to call out as she uselessly trudges through the mud before her knees give in.
"Nana! No! NANA help me!" Agatha wails as her sweet mother figure disappears behind a tree trunk when the soldiers make a turn.
They ride for what feels like hours, far into the night. The soldiers had talked, sung and laughed for ages about everything and nothing. The poor girl is too tired to make any attempts at escape, she merely hopes she'll be able to rest soon. She dozes off, time and time again. Her eyelids are heavy as lead.
"HALT!"
And suddenly, she is wide awake, trying to make out what is happening.
"Ah... My apologies, Ser. Enter." She hears the same voice say, and the column rides further.
She's at a camp of sorts. A dozen or so tents surrounding a large red and black tent, bigger than her old living quarters even. The rider dismounts from his horse as another soldier approaches, murmuring out a few somethings while peeking over his shoulder to the girl still on horseback. The soldier nods, turning to the girl.
"Come now, little one, the lady is expecting you." He tells her with a little smile, hoisting her down.
The Lady? Could this be the woman that left her? The woman she's so dearly wished to see? The answer has never been closer.
The soldier escorts up to the big tent, she can practically hear her heart thump as they near the entrance.
Two tall guards donning plumed hats and wielding halberds step aside for the girl as she enters the tent alone. She nervously makes her way further in, hearing the humming of a woman behind a screen. She doesn't know what to feel, all the emotions she's gone through today, it is too much for a child. The woman behind this screen caused so much pain for her. So much misery. And now she wants a talk? She's got some nerve.
The woman stops her humming, rising up from behind the screen with half-braided hair.
"You must be Agatha..! Oh, my darling. My sweet darling, look at you!" She exclaims excitedly as she makes her way out to Agatha. The woman's resemblance to Agatha catches her off-guard, and she takes a step back, asking with a quivering voice.
"M-Mother?".
The woman stops in her tracks, emitting a heartfelt aww as he places a hand on her chest, kneeling down to Agatha.
"Oh, my sweet... No.. I'm afraid not... But don't worry, we are closer still. I am Lady Godwyna, your father's sister. You may call me aunt though, such a cute thing like you. Tell you what, when we return home it will be like you have a dozen mothers and fathers!" Godwyna endearingly tells Agatha, stroking her cheek lovingly.
"Home? What do you mean?"
"What? You don't think this murky swamp is your home, do you? Nay, nay... You're practically a princess, your home is Vlissinghelm. It is a long ride, but I'll keep you safe on the way… Now, let us get you a hot bath and some food. I also brought some clothes with me from Axford that you can try on! Oh, it'll look lovely on you I'm sure. Ohh we'll have so-- Oh, here I go prattling about... Come along, we'll get you cleaned up and smiling again, yes?" Godwyna offers out her hand to Agatha, a sweet motherly smile on her face.
Agatha takes her aunt's hand, hesitantly as she's led off to a new life.
This is based on Agatha Harhold's childhood. This is purely IC information, only those within the Harhold family or people explicitly told of this would know.
