She knew. So very long ago she felt. -This- is what she felt. She remembered. Remembered telling the dark haired man as they traveled, telling him that there would be three now upon their journey. She remembered his joy, her fear, the unknown preying on her mind, the continued eagerness he gave for them to be wed. The sickness, the tiredness, the desire for the strangest of foods. A ring wrought of platinum, diamond, something worthy of nobility. She remembered others knowing of his desire to wed her, others excitement at arranging their marriage, then, the nothingness that followed, a silken dress unfinished, plans upon parchment gathering dust.
Changes. No, this was not the same, yes, indeed the body still felt exhaustion, the smell of certain foods turned her gut, yet her stomach slightly swelled over the coming days, but this was different, this time carried certainty, certainty in her mind built over time by the man who refused to leave her side. The man who renounced his duty to their lord, to now relish in the role of the humble life of a farmer, simply to be with her. He sacrificed a life he once knew, a life of protecting their people to replace it with one of protecting his new found family. She did not ask him for this, nor for the union he offered. His friendship with the blacksmith being forged quickly so that he might present her with whatever wedding ring she desired. She did not ask for him to lay at her side, night after night, his calloused hand gently touching her waist day after day. She asked nothing of him, yet gave him naught but her concerns that he truly did wish her, her son, their unborn child and the life she knew. He did, with certainty, he did.
A dark, ornate, carved wooden box, lay on the small table beside their bed. So many trinkets hidden within, letters, tokens. Her first wedding ring from an ill fated marriage, the man taken from life too soon. Letters from those who once were dear to her, yes, naturally Dernfreas father, but also the fair haired foul mouthed Thorvall who was present at the birth of her son, another from a rather dark character known as Siward who she shared many close moments in friendship with. Conn, a strong, battered looking man who loved her dearly. Eoryn, a slip of a girl finding her way in life so far from home. Ramblings from her father regarding this or that. At the bottom though, beneath the many pages of words from the past, lay a simple, black stone ring and a platinum one, held upon a chain. Her son would be gifted these things when he came of age. He would know of where he came from, she would never deny him such knowledge and he would look proudly into the eyes of his new father, the man who gave far more than his heart to a woman, but to her family also, and he would never feel alone.
