Varda cannot keep despair out
Varda sat in her usual spot waiting for Sigurd to come home, but tonight there was not small embroidery in her hands. Her palms were pressing into her thighs, her fingers working the fabric of her dress between them. She felt a thread come loose and began to absentmindedly pull at it before reminding herself that she did not have many dresses here and it would not do to ruin this one. Then she heard heavy steps in the corridor and she clasped her hands together, waiting for him to enter.
The door swung open and Sigurd walked through it, a wide smile on his face. He had been like this every night since she had told him, despite the dreadful things that had happened. He had told her their room was like a cocoon of happiness for him, a place where he could hide himself from the despair that lurked outside the door. But Varda hadn’t been able to keep the despair out, it had crept through the door with its long limbs to join her before she had even realised. She looked up at Sigurd and she knew he was expecting her to stand up and kiss him on the cheek as she had done in the month since she had told him she was pregnant.
She did not give him a kiss, but instead stood and turned towards the mirror. She knew she was confusing him, but she could not bear at that moment to look him in the face. She didn’t want to see the naive smile that was plastered across it. She thought she might slap it if she did.
“Varda… is something wrong?”, he asked, a twinge of worry entering his tone.
Inside her mind she was screaming at him. Of course there was something wrong, something so very wrong her whole being felt like it would collapse.
She turned towards him closing her eyes tightly so she would not have to look at him.
“Sigurd, I have lost the baby”.
Now that it was said she could open her eyes and stare at him, waiting to see what he would do. She knew in her heart how it would be, but somehow she wished it would be different now.
But it wasn’t. His face crumpled like a small child who has lost his favourite toy.
“The baby?”, he mumbled, “Our baby…”.
And then he buried his face in his hands and began to sob, his long blonde hair falling around his face. She stared at his strong, manly hands, covering his face, catching his tears. His muscular shoulders were shaking and his thick legs looked as though they would buckle.
How she hated him in that moment, watching as his arms wrapped around himself. They should have been wrapped around her waist, her small tear-stained face pressed up against his chest as he whispered comforting words in her ear. It had been her baby too.
Her baby, thinking the words made her want to retch again, and she clutched at her empty stomach desperately. A sob caught in her throat and she choked it back again. She would not cry in front of him. She would not let him see her weakness even if he was happy to flaunt his in front of her. There was plenty of time to cry later, behind closed doors when no-one would see.
She walked over to the set of drawers and briskly opened it.
“I am going to bed now Sigurd”.
She pulled out her nightgown and closed the drawer with a loud thud.
She hurriedly pulled off her gown, dropping it on the floor in her haste to clothe herself once more. It did not matter. Sigurd was not watching her tonight as he often did, out of the corner of his eye while pretending to be doing something else. She hated the way he looked at her, it made her skin crawl. If he had been a real man he would have boldly watched her, his eyes upon her naked body. And she would have enjoyed him watching. But not Sigurd, who had to peek at her with his guilty eyes.
She stood in front of the mirror and hastily unpinned her hair. He was watching her now, his pitiful tearstained face visible to her in the mirror. His eyes met hers, beseeching and she knew he wanted her to comfort him. But tonight, she thought angrily, she would not.
She moved over to the bed and began to pull the covers up over her. It was a chilly night, winter was fast approaching and she thought it would have been nice to lay her head on a warm, manly chest, to feel thick fingers stroking her hair, to hear a deep voice whispering to her in the dark. She pulled the blankets up firmly to her neck. Sigurd was still watching her like a puppy that has been kicked.
“Goodnight Sigurd”, she said firmly and closed her eyes.
She lay there, unable to sleep shivering with cold and sorrow as she listened to the muffled sobbing of her husband.
Ow, that hurt, reading this.
She despises him so much, which makes him afraid of her, which makes her despise him more…
My favorite part was where she was cataloging his “strong, manly hands”, “his muscular shoulders”, “his thick legs”… everything he needs to be a “real man”, and he’s using them to cry. (ooh, shades of Hilda, writing that… I think I like Varda even less now)
I wonder what would happen if she got tangled up with a guy like… say… Radomir? There’s your real man for you! She might think better of her sensitive husband then. (But I’m still rooting for Radomir and Valeriya.)
I wish Varda would mention her feelings to one of her friends, who could then tell her husband, who could then slip a few hints to Sigurd…
What a troubled pair these two are. What a shame about the baby! I do believe Varda has a slight point, though. Why wasn’t Sigurd comforting her, too? It was her baby, in her body… that has huge mental repercussions…
I’m with Sigurd here. He’s something of a wimp, but she’s rather off-putting when she’s not pregnant and happy. I think he’s scared of her, hence the guilty eyes when he tries to get a glimpse of her undressing.
He did say “Our baby”, which made me a little angry at her when she was hating him for not comforting her — about it being “her baby too”. He knows that. I would imagine poor Sigurd knows that if he had tried to comfort her, she would have shoved him away anyway.
It’s interesting to see such mixed opinions
It is very hard often for me as the writer not to take sides with one of the characters (I guess you guys have the same problems too). I had typed out a big explanation of the characters behaviour but then I realised that, that was just my opinion and you guys have your own interpretation of the story which I really love. So I’m not going to say now what the character’s are thinking and why they behave like they do because that will come out in the story (although it is so hard not to do a full character dissection right here
I should mention though… Varda doesn’t really have any friends. Not yet anyway. Cindra particularly doesn’t like her and so Lisbet isn’t too friendly with her either. Morven hangs out with these two a bit (they are all about the same age) but is pretty neutral and mostly wants to read anyway. Valeriya is lost in her own world of suffering and messiness and the Queen is a bit threatened by Varda’s strong opinions. That leaves the peasants but they don’t associate so much right now. And Varda would prefer to talk with the men but unfortunately in this world she isn’t supposed to and should be embroidering and gossiping with the women instead. So poor Varda literally doesn’t have anyone to talk to at the moment because she doesn’t want to talk to her husband.
Well I feel sorry for both of them because they have poor communication. Both want something from the other but don’t know how to get it. I think Varda is being especially snippy right now cause she lost her baby, she’s lonely, and she wants to feel secure and Sigurd isn’t very good at that right now. Sigurd on the other hand is sad too and probably would’ve comforted her if she had just let him know that’s what she was needing. They could’ve comforted each other then. I hope in the future they will be able to learn about each other and what they need. But I’m glad that all of your couples aren’t just happy or sad, but that there is a mix as well.
Ohh, resentment, not good. The scorn she’s directing towards her husband is worrying me. It won’t make a healthy relationship, and it prevents her sympathizing.
I do feel sorry for her, though! She’s lost and alone and she doesn’t even have the comfort of a baby. And she has a husband who’s slightly afraid of her even though she does wish he’d comfort her. Perhaps it’s the attention? My sister sometimes acts upset very loudly, so to speak, and grumpy, and such, until someone asks her. And then she’ll push the asker away, and say, “I’m fine, stop annoying me!” But the attention is really what she wants, to know that people care about her enough to ask, and that she can push them away and we all will still worry about her. Is it perhaps the same?
It might be too deep for the characters to express to themselves, I’m not sure. I certainly don’t normally evaluate myself thusly, at least not until I calm down.
I don’t think it’s exactly the same thing with Varda since first of all she won’t ever show she is upset in front of other people. I mean she isn’t actually being angry at Sigurd… she’s just being… nothing with him. And with Sigurd he is way to ready to show his feelings. I think Varda would just like Sigurd to step up an be the man in the relationship for once. It is a weird sort of situation.
Hehe… I always find it easy to evaluate others than myself especially when you know you have been a cow. Sometimes it is painful to admit your flaws to yourself and I think a lot of people don’t tend to analyse themselves in this way. I think most of the characters on Mhalwae would be counted in this bracket