#saethryth

[deathsfavouritesims]

Unlike Theohild, whose head was always filled with daydreams, and Weynild, who was disinterested in her mother’s accompanying life advice, Saethryth is happy to sit with Faustina and weave for hours on end. 

[deathsfavouritesims]

Faustina and Weyland returned at the beginning of the Blodmonath. The winter chill had already begun to set in, yet they came back earlier than planned, after receiving word from Aethelric that Weyland’s long-suffering aunt Saewara had died. They buried her with her husband and son, as well as her distaff and jewelled rings. 

“You must settle your cousin Juthwara,” Faustina murmured to her husband as they stepped away from the burial mound. 

“Can she not live with us? We are her family.”

“Of course she can,” Faustina said. “But I think it is time that she has her own family. She has been caring for her mother for many years now.”

Weyland pursed his lips. “Is there a man she... favours?”

“I believe so. Beornwulf, one of your gesiths.”

“Alright. Once she is recovered from the loss of her mother, I’ll arrange it.”

[deathsfavouritesims]

A late summer fever arrived not long after Faustina and Weyland had left. In their hall, three houseslaves, as well as Saethryth, were taken ill. 

For once, Aethelric was taking his responsibilities seriously, but as the fever settled over the village, he could feel the strain of his own inexperience. And mostly, he was terrified for his little sister. 

Theohild did her best to help by rearranging household tasks and tending to the sick. However, her main contribution was an appeal to the gods, in particular, the god Tiw, whom she asked tearfully not to take Saethryth. Eventually, a bargain was struck and Saethryth opened clear eyes after several days of delirium. Soon after, the fever passed entirely. 

Aethelric was so relieved that Theohild did not have the courage to tell him what she had bargained away for the health of their dear sister and the rest of their people. 

[deathsfavouritesims]

Saethryth and Raedfrid spent the first half of the summer lugging buckets and barrels of sand to pile in front of the hall, to the annoyance of everyone who walks past and now gets it in their shoes. Faustina rolls her eyes and mumbles about Weyland getting even more soft on the children in his old age by allowing such foolishness, but they both smile at the shrieks of laughter as Saethryth and Raedfrid enjoy the fruits of their labour.